Dedication:
For everyone who was ever mean to me in High School.
Suck it.
So what if Logan was dead? I mean, it's not like
he owed me money or anything. I pause at the top
of the stairs, letting my mom move around me
and walk inside. To my left a group of girls are holding
each other and ugly crying. I try to assure myself that
the display is genuine and has nothing to do with the
swarm of reporters behind me, their cameras clicking
like insects.
"I bet not one of those girls even knew Logan," I
grumble.
"Firstly, everyone knew Logan. And secondly, quit
being such a judgy-Mc judge-sickle."
To my right, Carlos holds out his hand, which I
take and allow him to lead me inside and down the hall.
Leaning over he whispers in my ear.
"I can't believe you wore that."
I look down at my dark jeans, carefully tucked
into tall brown boots. My steel grey scarf hangs over my
light tan sweater. I'd even taken the time to throw my
long brown hair into a messy bun.
"We can't all afford to look like movie stars," I
mumble back.
Carlos, with his rich brown skin and dark hair
looks like he should be on a billboard somewhere, and
the dark fitted suit he's wearing only enhances the effect.
He's gorgeous. One of those genetically gifted boys who
could bat his eyelashes and have any girl he wanted. You
know, if he actually wanted girls. He weaves our arms
together and pulls me up to a tall pedestal with an open
book laying on it. A few people in front of us are signing
in like they are registering for a giveaway at the mall. I
shift uncomfortably.
"Relax, Zoe. It isn't a funeral. Just a viewing."
I shake my head, "That's even worse." I lower my
voice so no one else can hear, "Who would want to look
at a dead body? I mean, it's just kinda twisted, right?"
He pats my hand. "Closure, darling. It's a chance
to say goodbye."
"I said goodbye to Logan a long time ago," I say
while looking ahead at the room beyond the pedestal.
Rows of neatly assembled chairs are nearly filled with
people from our quiet little town. Some are talking, most
crying. A few are just texting or playing on their phones.
I feel my breathing pick up as a warmth spreads under
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YOU ARE READING
Losing Logan
Teen FictionNormally finding a hot guy in her bedroom wouldn’t irritate Zoe so badly, but finding her childhood friend Logan there is a big problem. Mostly because he’s dead. As the only person he can make contact with, he convinces Zoe to help him put togethe...