Page 51 of Attractive Forces

“I ran into Mrs. Hayward at the hardware store. She said that Kimberly drove Jennifer home after the ball, not you, because you were busy looking after a friend who was drunk.”

“Um…yeah. But Jake’s a great guy. He just had a bad night.”

He crosses his arms across his chest, fixing me with a piercing stare. “Who you choose to spend time with has consequences, Logan.”

“You’re worried I’m going to be badly influenced by my chemistry tutor?” I coat my words with disbelief, trying to get him to realize how ridiculous that sounds.

“I just want you to think through all of your decisions.”

You’d think my dad would be relieved I hadn’t spent the night with Jennifer. But now he’s gone from being worried I’m having premarital sex to worrying I’m indulging in underage drinking.

I swallow. My dad has no clue what he really should be worried about.

“I am thinking everything through, Dad,” I say.

15

Jake

So. That happened.

I kissed Logan. Well, if you want to be technically correct, he kissed me. Although I definitely, definitely kissed him back.

I’ve never kissed anyone like that before. I’ve never felt that amount of…need when kissing someone. Like I could spontaneously combust if I didn’t keep kissing him.

Yeah, I’ve veered so far from straight that I’m now a curved line. Or maybe something even cooler, like a zigzag.

But I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is the idea Logan might not be as happy as me about what happened.

Is he freaking out? Because freaked-out definitely looked like his vibe when he bolted from my room.

Was he flipping out about what we’d done? Or is it the thought of getting caught?

I’ve been focused on the wholeyay, Logan likes me backvibe and the confirmation of my own sexuality, but I suddenly realize that liking guys doesn’t fit very well with him being the rugby captain and the pastor’s son.

I check my phone relentlessly that night. But he doesn’t message me.

As I’m going to bed, I contemplate messaging him. But what can I say?

Hey, man, great tutoring session today. Especially the part where our tongues tangled with each other. You want to do that again sometime?

In the end, I don’t send any messages.

And my phone stays resolutely silent in return.

At school the next day,my stomach somersaults like I’m at a tumbling convention.

Is he going to ghost me? I can’t imagine Logan doing that. But people do weird stuff when they’re stressed, as I know so well from my dad. No matter how much you think you know someone, they can always surprise you.

I search the halls more intensely than the SETI telescope scans the universe for signs of life, but I don’t see Logan until English.

He’s already in his seat near the back of the class. I throw a glance in his direction, but his eyes stay glued to his folder.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I don’t think I hear a single word of Mrs. Anderson’s lecture on Hamlet.

I pack up slowly, keeping my head down so I don’t look at Logan as he leaves. I’d prefer to stay ignorant for a few moments longer than see Logan’s regret confirmed.