Revenge of the Girl with the Great Personality

Chapter 2: Obsession Actually

The bright spot of going to pageants nearly every weekend is also one of the most problematic: a boy. After all, most trouble usually starts with a boy. But he isn’t just any boy. No, he’s possibly the most amazing, hottest, and sweetest boy ever known to teenage kind.

Okay, this is probably the point where I should mention that I sometimes have a hard time focusing on anything whenever Logan comes up. I’m usually a pretty together person, but whenever I’m around him, I melt into this giddy, brainless, gooey lump of my former self.

Since he’s currently walking over to me, I start to focus on my breath.

Easy, tiger, you can handle this.

“There you are!” he says, and I try to keep my heart from floating out of my body when he smiles at me. “You cannot leave me alone in there. That’s cruel and unusual punishment.” He winks one of his deep green eyes at me.

I feel the heat rising in my cheeks . . . and elsewhere. “Yeah, especially the unusual part. I’m not sure, but did that one mom dress her newborn up as a cowgirl or a stripper?”

He sits down on the couch next to me. Like, right next to me. “It’s hard to tell sometimes, especially when sequined leather chaps are involved.”

I give a little laugh, all while reminding myself to keep my wits. I swear, one of these days I’m going to totally lose it and attack him. I’ll be on the cover of magazines as The Teen Terror, and  they’ll make a made-for-TV movie about me where they’ll have me hiding in the bushes and sending him lockets of my hair. (I hid in his bushes once, but that was on a dare from Benny.)

I’m pretty sure Logan knows I have a crush on him. I mean, how could he not? Pretty much every girl in school does. Except Cameron, who thinks he’s a bit too “clean cut” and “boring” (blasphemy!). And she’s supposed to be the smart one.

Logan’s talking to me like it’s no big deal, but I’m transfixed by every curve of his face, every piece of sandy blond hair on his head. I find my gaze shifting down toward his lips. Oh, those lips . . . which are in the middle of telling me some story.

Come on, Lexi. Concentrate.

I dig my fingernails into my arm.

“. . . is ridiculous, don’t you think?” Logan finishes his story and looks at me for some sort of reaction.

I stall for a few moments by pretending to look thoughtful.

What could he have said that agreeing with him would be the wrong answer? It’s not like there was any way he would say something like, “You know the criticism the Nazis get is ridiculous, don’t you think?”

He’s clearly looking for me to agree with him. So I go for broke. “Yeah.”

“Exactly.” He nods appreciatively at me.

Phew.

Logan, completely oblivious to my nerves, grabs my sleeve and gives it a playful tug. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Ugh, this silly shirt. I decide to do what I do best. Go for the Miss Self Deprecating crown.

“Thanks. I’m trying to win Most Non-Photogenic today.” I gesture down at my hideously embarrassing T-shirt, rolled up jeans, and canvas shoes. “I think there should be a special award for NO hair and makeup.” My hair is in a messy ponytail and I think at some point this morning I put on lip balm. I don’t see the point in trying to put any effort into my appearance on days like this, even though I know Logan’s going to be here. It would be futile to try to compete under these circumstances.

“That’s because you don’t need hair and makeup.” He nudges my leg with his knee. “Do you see what these girls look like when they arrive?”

I try to not read into what Logan’s saying. I’d only be torturing myself thinking that he sees me as anything but a friend. Because while I’m here with my sister, he’s here with the ultimate beauty queen.

Alyssa Davis.

A.k.a. future Miss Texas.

A.k.a. Logan’s girlfriend.

Alyssa deserves all the accolades she gets because she’s the epitome of a beauty queen: honey-colored hair with blond highlights framing her heart-shaped face. She even has these Disneyesque blue eyes that I swear actually sparkle.

It’s so not fair.

“Come on.” Logan gets up off the couch and extends his hand. “They’ll kill us if we miss the crowning.” I take his hand to stand and then he puts his arm around my shoulder. I try to steady my breath. Logan’s always been very touchy-feely with me, but I still get butterflies in my stomach. Every. Single. Time. Of course, with me Logan just rubs my back or gives me these huge hugs that lift me up. It’s always very safe, very friendly. Unfortunately.

We enter the hotel conference room and the anxiety in the room practically knocks us over. All the parents, kids, and coaches are staring up at the podium as if their lives depend on the results.

“Hey.” Logan gently nudges my arm as I’m about to sit with my mom and Mac. “You going to Josh’s party tonight?”

I shake my head. I didn’t even know that Josh was having a party. But I like Logan even more for thinking that we run in the same circles.

Luckily, I don’t have to bring him down to reality since I have a good excuse. “Can’t,” I tell him. “I have to work.”

“Too bad.” Logan seems genuinely sad. “Well . . . I guess I’ll see ya later.” He gives me another wink before he walks over to Alyssa.

So, when he said “too bad,” do we think he meant “too bad that you have to be stuck on a Saturday night in the prime of your youth to work at the mall” or “too bad because I was going to dump Alyssa and make out with you all night”?

See what I did there?

If I don’t watch it, I’ll let one tiny comment from Logan send me off into the delusional deep end. I know it’s ridiculous, but I can’t help it. I know it doesn’t really matter what he says. The fact is, he has a girlfriend.

All I need to do is look over and see his arms wrapped around Alyssa’s tiny waist as they gaze happily into each other’s eyes, and I come tumbling back to reality.