Tony shook his head before leaning in to say something, his hand rubbed my arm, but I don't know what he said, because all I could see was Logan. His eyes were bloodshot as they narrowed to slits. He pushed off the counter and walked up to us. "A word?" he said lazily.
Tony turned to him, "Rude much? We're in the middle of something here."
Logan glared at him, then lifted his index finger in the air, twirling it around. "You see this?" he asked, his chin lifting.
Tony looked around the kitchen, confusion all over his face. "See what, Asshole? There's nothing."
"Exactly." Logan smirked, moving so he was in front of me. "That's all the fucks I give."
Then he lifted me over his shoulder, walked us out of the kitchen, and into his room.
Logan
"What do you want Matthews?"
I narrowed my eyes at her. "Why the fuck are you letting him touch you like that?"
I knew I'd lost it—the control I should have in this situation. But I couldn't fucking help it.
"Like what? His hand on my fucking arm!" She was pissed. "Why the fuck do you even care? You've made it clear that you don't want me. So what is this? You don't want me but no one else can have me?"
"Yes!" I yelled, before settling down. "I mean no. Fuck, Amanda. I don't know!" My hands went into my hair, clasping my fingers behind my head. I started pacing the floor, wondering how the fuck I was going to make sense of this shit.
"You don't know?!" she repeated, anger laced in her voice. "You don't fucking know!" She screamed louder. "Maybe that's the problem, Logan. Maybe that's always been the problem. You just Don’t. Fucking. Know!"
She took a deep breath in, calming herself down. "I can't believe I fucking let this happen again, what the hell is wrong with me?" She shook her head, talking to herself. "And the thing is— I forgave you. After the shit you pulled that summer I just forgave you. Like it didn't even happen. Like it didn't matter. When it fucking did. You know how much it mattered."
I just stood there, hands in pockets, because I had no words.
Nothing.
"You know when you moved in, I had no choice. I thought, fuck it. Just treat him like you would any other asshole. I would have been happy to forget about it, Logan. I would have been happy to just be friends with you, and move on. But you—you were the one that kept pushing this. Not me. And now? Now you don't know what you want."
Silence.
Followed by more silence.
Because as much as I wanted to tell her something—anything. I couldn’t.
So I didn't.
I just stood there and let myself be the pathetic fuck-up that I was.
"You know what the worst part is, Logan?" She moved so she was right in front of me.
I kept looking at the floor.
"Look at me!" she yelled.
So I did.
And the second I did, I regretted it. There was rage and anger and sadness in her eyes. But what hurt the most were her tears. Those same fucked up tears I always caused.
She took in a deep breath, making sure that I saw her. "The worst part is that you and me—we could have been amazing. We could have had it all, Logan. Everything. And you fucked it up."
Then she laughed once. That bitter fucking laugh. "I'm done, Logan." She motioned her finger between us. "You and me—we're done." She wasn't angry anymore. She wasn't bitter or even upset. She was exactly what she said she is—done.
She brushed past me and walked towards the door, stopping just before her hand reached the handle.
"Logan," she said over her shoulder, "you need to find somewhere else to live."
She wiped her face, before opening the door and leaving.
She bumped into Jake on her way out, who looked confused to see her. Then he glimpsed into my room, saw me, then looked back at her, and then me again.
He cautiously walked into my room and sat on my desk chair.
"What's up?" he said casually.
"Nothing." I threw my body backwards onto the bed and covered my eyes with my forearm.
"That didn't look like nothing to me." He cleared his throat. "What's the deal? You into her?"
"Have you been living under a fucking rock? You know I'm in to her. Don't be an asshole."
He laughed. "Dude, I just didn't want to make any assumptions. You know what happened the last time I assumed you were into someone."
I did. It was that day with Micky.
"So what's the problem?" he continued. "She doesn't want you?"
I sighed out loud and sat up so I could face him.
"She does want me, that is the problem."
His eyebrows bunched together. "I'm sorry, man. I'm a little buzzed, so you're going to have to help me out here." He shook his head slowly. "What's the problem?"
"She's too good for me, Jake. I don't fucking deserve her. Not now, and not the first time."
"The first time?"
Fuck. I forgot he didn't know. "Nothing."
Then he looked at me, and I glared back. Like we were eight and this was a stare off. He took his cap off, ran his hand through his hair, and then replaced it. "Shit. You're more than into her, huh? You're like, into her."
I nodded slowly. He was right.
"Fuck, man. I never thought I'd see the day," he said, disbelief laced in his voice.
"Like you're one to talk."
"Valid."
Then it was quiet for a while as I thought about the colossal tower of fucked-uppery I'd gotten myself into.
"Don't you think it's her decision?" Jake broke the silence.
I looked over at him. "Huh?"
"Don't you think she should be the one making that choice? Whether to be with you or not? I mean, if she wants you, then there's something there right?"
I kept staring at him, waiting for him to go on.
"Look, I know that you enjoy being this asshole or whatever, but you're a decent guy. I mean, you were there for Micky when she had that pregnancy scare, and the next day when she went to see you, you were-"
"You know about that?" I cut in.
He eyed me. "Of course I do. She didn't tell me right away, but a few months later. We don't keep secrets, Logan. Ever."
I nodded.
"All I'm saying is that you're a good guy. And maybe you can't see that. But maybe she does. And maybe that's enough, you know?"
I was about to say something but shouting coming from the living room interrupted us.
We both got up quickly and made our way out. When we got out of the hallway, it was mayhem. Someone had turned the music off and everyone was looking at the corner of the room.
We broke through the crowd to see Ethan with his forearm against some kids neck, pinning him to the wall. The kid looked familiar but I couldn't place him.
"We fucking told you not to come around here," Tristan spat, pacing behind Ethan.
The kid’s eyes narrowed. "Fuck you, Tris. You fucking faggot!"
I swear to God time stood still as people gasped. Ethan's forearm went further into his neck. Tristan just shook his head and laughed it off.
"Everybody out." Ethan's voice was flat, but dead serious.
Nobody moved.
Dylan got up from his seated position on the sofa. "You heard him, out."
This time, half the room left.
The other half just stood there, waiting for a show.
And I had no idea what the fuck was happening.