The Stories Of Them

Logan Ellison

|| Logan Ellison ||

Her dad only had three rules. 1) No boys in her room, 2) no drugs (including cigarettes), and 3) no alcohol. And right now, all three of those rules were broken. The boy was bent over the dresser, looking at the pictures. She knew that if her dad came upstairs right now, he would go ballistic. Good thing he was distracted by the football game blaring downstairs.

She could always tell him to leave, of course, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to, or even could. This boy was attractive, mind numbingly so, and she was just standing in the doorway stupidly, staring at the beautiful boy in her bedroom. He was wearing black skinny jeans, a black t shirt, and a black jacket. She was wearing big bird pajama pants and a blue camisole. So, needless to say, she felt like a complete idiot.

Her dad should have told her they would have company that Sunday, that’s what should have happened.

He cupped his large hand around his unlit cigarette and lit it, the flame making his pupils dilate and the icy blue of his irises more prominent. They flicked up and the corners of his lips turned up slightly.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” she had somehow found her voice.

“Sorry. Took the wrong turn to the bathroom.” Oh lord was his voice deep. And gravely. And sexy. Oh so sexy.

“Right well, down the hall, to the left,” she said. He stood up straight and she had to tilt her chin to see his jaw line and amused expression.

“Thanks,” he said, walking towards her. She tried to shrink into the door jam, and he stopped right in front of her, leaning down closer to her. He took the cigarette from his lips and blew the smoke to the side of her. Her stomach coiled as he cornered her and smirked, his eyes traveling down her body. He smelled like musk and cheap cologne. She relished in the smell. “Nice pajamas,” he said, winking. She blushed and he chuckled, low from his chest. He walked out of her room and down the hall, going into the bathroom without another word to her. She let out a heavy breath and looked at her dresser. She closed the door behind her and got changed into some jeans and an old Nirvana shirt. She pulled her brown hair up into a bun and fixed her glasses.

When she left her room, the boy was walking down the hall. The cigarette was gone and he looked over her outfit.

“No pajamas huh, Reece?” he asked. She blushed and hated herself for the effect he had on her, ever since sixth-fucking-grade.

He had left for some school for troubled boys after his mother died, and she figured she’d never hear from him again. And she didn’t, for three years. He didn’t come back for holidays, or summer breaks. She wasn’t disappointed, that wasn’t really the word. The thing about Logan Ellison is he’s like the ocean. He looks pretty and trusting, and then once you’re in deep enough, he pulls you under and shows you all the monsters he’s hiding deep down, all the sharks waiting to devour you whole. And if there was one thing she’d learned from being Logan Ellison’s neighbor, it was how to swim.

Their dads were on the couch, hollering at the players on the screen. she opened the fridge and bent over, searching the lower shelves.

“Dad, did you go shopping?”

“No.”

“When was the last time you went shopping?”

“A few weeks ago why?”

She sighed and shut the fridge, opening the pantry and grabbing the box of saltines from the bottom shelf. She hopped up into the counter and Logan came into the room, holding a beer bottle.

“No alcohol in this house,” her dad called. Logan huffed and started to trudge outside. “Reece, go join him!”

“What? No!” The secret to swimming was not getting in the ocean.

“Oh come on Bradshaw, I don’t bite,” Logan teased, smirking, “Unless you like that kind of thing.” She scoffed.

“Fine, but I’m having one too,” she snapped. Logan tossed a bottle to her and she caught it, frowning. She didn’t even know where he had gotten it from.

She followed him outside and sat on the hood of his car.

“You’ve grown up nicely Bradshaw,” he complimented. She almost told him he had too, but decided not to make a fool of herself in front of a boy for once. “Definitely grown into those lips of yours,” he said, almost smiling.

It was true. She had huge lips when she was little. They literally took up, like, half of her face. Not even exaggerating.

“Tell me something I didn’t know about you,” he said, and took a big drink from the beer in his hand. He held out his hand for her bottle and she handed it to him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle opener, popping the cap before handing it back to her.

“You didn’t know a lot of things about me. We weren’t exactly best friends if you don’t remember,” she said. She took a swig from the brown bottle in her hand. The beer made her relax into the situation.

“Then tell me one, Reece Bradshaw,” he said, “And I’ll tell you one.”

That had her attention. Logan Ellison was a complete mystery, to everyone. Maybe even to himself. She didn’t know. He had never let her in that far.

“Alright. Let’s see,” she said, tapping her middle fingers against the hood of his car. He took another drink of his alcohol and she bit her lip. He chuckled and she frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said and motioned for her to continue. She scrunched her nose at him and he did that almost-smile again.

“Okay, something you didn’t know about me?” she asked. He nodded. She hummed. “I had the biggest crush on you.”

“I knew that,” he hummed, “I think it was pretty obvious.”

“What? I had to have a crush on you in order to kiss you?” she asked. He laughed and she almost spit the recently downed beer all over herself. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh. And she’d known him since sixth grade.

“I guess not. But I always figured you did,” he said.

“If I needed a crush to kiss you, does that mean you needed a crush to kiss me too?” she asked, smirking at him. He chuckled, looking down.

“Ah, yes, I suppose,” he said. She smiled, taking another drink of the beer. “But that doesn’t count.”

“Fine. You want something interesting I suppose?” she asked. He nodded and she hummed, tapping her chin absently. “I was in love with you.”

He stayed silent. And the nerves in her stomach tightened more and more with each passing second.

“Was?” he said suddenly.

“Am,” she corrected. He looked at her and leaned over, catching her lips in his. They kissed for a moment before he smiled at her fondly.

“I am in love with you too.”

(Written by Kaela)