“Zoe, please. I need you to understand.”
I turn back, squaring my shoulders. “I get it, Logan. I do. You need to move on. We both do. Fine.”
I drop my towel. Logan spins around so quickly I’m surprised he doesn’t fall over. I dress slowly, staring daggers into his back the whole time. My phone vibrates and I check it. It’s a text from Bruno wondering where I am. I text him back quickly.
Got up late. Be there soon. See you after first period.
I toss the phone in my messenger bag and quickly brush out and blow dry my hair. Logan watches me intensely the entire time. As soon as I’m ready, looking killer in my tall brown boots and a short denim skirt with a white camisole and light blue sweater, if I do say so myself, I head for my car without bothering to say a word to Logan.
“Are you angry?” he asks as I back quickly out of the driveway.
I slam the stick into gear and peel out.
“You are a complete idiot, you know that Logan?”
He sighs. “Yeah, I’m getting that. But can you do me one favor today?”
I crack my knuckles. “What is that?”
He pauses before answering. “Just don’t… don’t kiss Bruno, okay?”
I snort. Yeah, because I’m going to let some idiotic, insecure, douche grenade tell me what to do, or for that matter, who to kiss.
“Kiss my ass, Logan. We’re doing this my way now.”
He sits back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest looking downright grumpy. Good. A little suffering is good for the soul.
I walk in late to first period, but Coach Mason doesn’t seem to care. Next to me Carson leans over.
“Everything okay?” he whispers.
I nod. Logan, in all his dickishness has decided to take up residence inside the classroom, and he’s standing next to the door, glaring at me. I’m tempted to flip him off, but instead I smile widely at Carson.
“Fine. Thanks for asking.”
After class I wait for the rest of the people to file out, taking my time packing up my stuff. When they are all gone and Coach Mason has gone back into the tiny office adjoining the classroom I walk over to where Logan is still standing, still glaring.
“You might as well go home Logan,” I tell him sharply. “I don’t really need you here.”
He huffs. “I’m going to keep watching out for you, just like I promised. Even if you don’t like it.”
“Oh really? And what are you going to do if The Reaper does show up? Yell at him until he goes away?”
“Okay, I know you’re pissed off at me but—“
“No buts Logan. If you want to figure out who killed you so you can move on or whatever, you’d be a helluva lot more helpful over at The Tower, trying to jog your memory than you will be here, stalking me.”
“What if The Reaper comes back?”
“I’ve got that handled, just like I did before. So you can really go now. You know,” I pause, watching as Bruno heads for my classroom door, “Unless you feel like sticking around while I make out with my boyfriend.”
He makes a disgusted sound and leans over, “I do love you, Zoe. And no amount of bitchiness is going to change that.” Then he vanishes.
I take a deep breath as Bruno strides into the room, grabs me around my waist, lifts me off the ground and spins me around, finally lowering me into a deep, long kiss. He’s nothing like Logan really. He’s muscled differently and he smells like grass and grease. And even as he’s kissing me, and little butterflies are fluttering around in my stomach of their own accord, I can’t help but wish he were Logan.
Heaven help me.
Fifteen
I don’t see Logan for the rest of the day, and by the time the last bell rings, it feels like a little piece of myself is missing. I’m hurt and angry and confused.
“Why don’t you come hang out for practice today?” Bruno begs. His brown eyes are like a puppy dog and despite the fact that all I want to do is go home, curl up, and die, something about his offer makes me smile.
I nudge Carlos who has just come up beside me.
“What do you think, Carlos? Wanna hang out and keep me company while I watch Bruno kick some ass and take some names?”
“And ogle sweaty guys in shorts? You had me at hello, Zoe.”
I chuckle and Bruno grins.
“See you out there,” he says, kissing me goodbye quickly.
I hesitate just a fraction of a second, Bruno doesn’t seem to notice but Carlos sure as hell does. As we walk outside to the bleachers to await the team, he grabs my arm, shaking me gently.
“Spill it Zoe, or god help me I’ll beat it out of you like candy out of a piñata.”
I sigh. “As per the usual, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
We take a seat on the warm metal bleachers, just one row up from the bottom. Even though the day is chilly, the sun has warmed the metal, making it surprisingly pleasant on my butt.
“I know that look. It’s love. You’re in love.”
I raise one eyebrow, “You’re kidding right? I’m freaking miserable.”
“Exactly. And a lot of things can make you miserable, but your level of miserable is only brought on by one thing. And that’s being miserably in love.”
When I don’t protest he sits back, looking pleased with himself.
“So? Spill it already. Please tell me Kyle Bruno isn’t as perfect as he seems. But know that if he’s done anything really terrible, I will break his arms for you.”
“Aww, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” I offer honestly, giving him a big bear hug.
He pats my back. “Good. Because I will. Speaking of bodily harm, I got a text from Scott. He wants to meet my parents.”
I feel my eyes widen. Just because his parents are fairly relaxed about his sexual orientation doesn’t mean they want him bringing his boyfriends home, or at least that is what Carlos told me once. Maybe things have changed. The semi-panicked expression on his face tells me otherwise. Carlos’ mom is a retired model, and his dad used to be a pro boxer. Neither of those things makes me think that a family dinner with the new guy could go anything but sideways.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
I think about it for a second.
“Okay, think casual. Go for dinner in, since any dead bodies will be better dealt with in private than public, and pick something your dad enjoys, so that he’ll be more relaxed.” I snap my fingers, “I got it. Why don’t you invite him over for pizza and to watch the title fight next weekend?”
He looks at me like I’m a genius. “That’s perfect. See? I knew you’d have some brilliant idea.”
He pauses for a second as the team takes the field. A few other people, mostly girlfriends, take to the stands, none sitting within ear shot of us.
“Your turn. Seriously Zoe, spill it. What’s going on?”
There is no possible way to explain all the weirdness so I just shake my head.
“You don’t want to talk to your best friend about it, fine. That’s up to you, but do me a favor, just don’t torch it.”
I sit back, staring at him blankly.
“Torch what?”
He jerks his head toward Bruno on the field. “That. You get things in your head and you let them spin you around, then, instead of toughing it out, you just burn it to the ground around you. You always have.”
I frown. Do I really do that?
As if seeing the question on my face, Carlos continues, “Remember last year when you got that study abroad offer? You couldn’t decide if you wanted to go because you were afraid of leaving your mom alone? So what did you do? You went out to some stupid frat party, got hammered, and let yourself get busted by your mom who grounded you into infinity and told you that you couldn’t go because you weren’t responsible enough.”