Of Painted Water (Logan Lerman Love Story)

The End, I Guess

So as you may have guessed from the chapter title, this is the last chapter of Of Painted Water. I'm pretty sure I'm going to do a sequel, but only if I get a good response from you guys. Thank you so much for the support, comments, fans, votes, and reads through the whole thing. I can't believe I'm actually posting this last chapter. This is the first story I've ever completed in my life, and I really do owe it to you guys, who stuck it out with me and urged me constantly to update. I love you guys!

******05/05/13 Update: THERE IS A SEQUEL, MY FRIENDS. IT'S ON MY PAGE. SO YEAH. GO VISIT THAT. :)**********+*

€€€€€€01/14/14 Update: Apparently people don't know how to get to the sequel, which is pretty odd because I posted it on my page. So follow these instructions very closely: at the top right of the story, you will see the cover of this book, with Logan Lerman and Taylor Swift embracing. Underneath the vote and comment numbers, you will see my little icon and name. Click on that, and it will take you to my page. On my page you just have to scroll through my stuff until you find the sequel, Life Ever After. Good luck, and just message me if you can't find it.

When I woke up, it was because mom was shaking me. I had bits and pieces of pie stuck to my face, my hair was really gross, and I felt incredibly tired. Then I remembered why I was tired.

"Has Logan left yet?" I asked her groggily, hoping the answer was no. Oh god, let it be no. If anything, I wanted to see him off at the airport. I wanted to see him one last time before he flew off to France to resume his movie star life.

"No, that's why I woke you. Be ready to leave in an hour."

I took a quick shower and washed out my hair, dressed in cut off shorts and a tank top, then bounced down stairs.

Devon, who had gotten up at around the same time I had (I think so, anyway) was sitting at the kitchen table, eating some sort of cereal. I have to say, though I know I looked like absolute crap when I woke up, it was nothing compared to Devon looked now. To make his appearance all the more attractive, he had the ugliest look on his face, like he had just smelled a combination of spoiled milk, cow poo, and his own dirty socks. Let me tell you, of all the aforementioned objects, the boys socks are by far the most potent.

On the way to the airport, Dev and I fought like little children, and my mature older brother was constantly teasing me about going to the airport to see my boyfriend off.

"Are you gonna kiss?" he made kissy faces at me, but the maniacal look in his eyes made him look like a true blue psychopath.

My mother simply rolled her eyes, too tired to deal with us. Considering I was functioning on only six or seven hours of sleep after that insane seventy two hour death rampage, I was actually keeping myself together nicely. I looked okay, I had eaten, and I hadn't killed anyone yet. Yet.

Once at the airport, it took a little while for Logan to make his way in. It had been a highly publicized departure, and the media had urged all Loganators to go to the airport in L.A. to see their favorite actor off. This made things incredibly difficult for me.

The second I stepped into the building the press was on me, and after such a calm and reporter-free summer, I was left unprepared.

Logan was running late because teenage girls had swarmed the car the movie company had sent to retrieve him. He was stuck outside, and I was stuck inside. Girls were also inside, and I got way more attention than I wanted.

These girls, who look way younger than myself, they know more street slang than I do! I have never in my life been called such insulting names. Wait, scratch that. I don't even know if the things they're saying are insulting because I've never heard these terms before.