No Strings Attached

Chapter 14

He scrunched his eyebrows at me. "Tegan, I don't understand. Tell me what's wrong."

I tried, but I couldn't. My eyes just kept darting between Logan and the elevator and back again.

His facial muscles loosened in understanding. "Oh, I see. You're afr...You don't want to go in the elevator, do you?"

I shook my head more.

He led me to a chair in the lobby. "It's alright. Elevators are stupid. That one is especially noisy."

I tried smiling at his goofiness. But nothing much would come.

"I'll walk up the stairs with you," he offered graciously. "First, I'm getting you a glass of water." He left momentarily, but soon came back with a Styrofoam cup with tap water in it. "It's the best I could do."

I took it from him. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it."

It felt good to get that off my chest. It would suck if I had a panic attack because Logan was about to go in an elevator on a date—wait, what?

We soon got up to his apartment, and Logan was right. As soon as I crossed the threshold I was bombarded with questions from his dad. Who was I? How old was I? How long did I know Logan? Why was my hair half blue?

"Dad, we really need to get started on our project," Logan interjected.

"Yes, of course," Mr. Shang said. "Go ahead."

Logan led me off away from the living room. "Sorry about him. He's really nosy. Hopefully he'll leave us alone in my room."

"Your room?" I repeated, trying not to sound shocked. I haven't even known the guy for a week and he's taking me into his bedroom?

"Yeah, it's the only quiet place in the house," he said nonchalantly.

Okay, he's either really into me or I'm totally friendzoned.

It was a total mess. Clothes were lying everywhere, his bed was unmade, food and pop were scattered randomly. I was surprised to see a living turtle in a glass case on his bookshelf. Honestly, I expected it to be dead.

"Sorry it's kind of trashy," he said self-consciously.

"You should see my room," I countered. "There are boxes everywhere." Yet it's still somehow cleaner than this...

We stood there awkwardly for what seemed like an eternity before Logan finally said, "So...how do you wanna do this?"

At first I didn't even know what he was talking about. Then I remembered why we were standing in the middle of his room. "Right, so we could start by doing a little more research," I suggested.

He nodded, and went to his computer. Before typing in the search bar, he paused. "What exactly am I supposed to look up?"

"We could start with 'poltergeist cases.' See if anyone else has experienced this."

He swiftly typed what I suggested and the first article was one from The Onion. I sighed. "Click on it anyway. Maybe it'll be a little helpful."

As it turns out, The Onion's sarcasm and satire was exactly what we needed.

"Look at this." Logan reads, "'A young boy tells the press an unbelievable account of his mother's death. Could we indeed have a poltergeist on the loose in America?

"'In Kansas City, little Tommy has been tirelessly testifying to the paranormal events occurring on October 7 in his home. His mother was on a rampage, destroying lamps and knocking over tables wherever she went. She even began to tear out the pages in some family books—one being the Bible. After an hour of CPS-worthy behavior, Tommy's mother lost consciousness. He called 9-1-1 and explained the situation, and soon the EMS filled Tommy's living room. He got to take a ride in an ambulance to the hospital, and that's where the first account of Tommy's tale was uttered.

"'We have been informed that the CoD was from a heart attack, as if she'd drank too much RedBull. Tommy insists that the monster inside his mother killed her way before she passed out, but the spirit kept her body moving.'"

"Okay, that was the worst Onion Post I have ever read!" I exclaimed.

Logan didn't seem to feel the same. In fact, he looked terrified.

"What's wrong?" I asked. He didn't answer. "Logan..."

He turned slowly away from his computer, but faced away from me. "What if I'm going to...die?" His voice cracked.

I leaned against his desk. "You won't."

He spun around quickly, and pointed to his computer. "She did! Why not me!?" He had tears in his eyes. His hand was shaking. It was weird to see such a big guy like Logan act so fragile, especially right in front of me. It wasn't just weird, though. It was also scary. If he was afraid, there sure as hell was something to be afraid of.

I looked in his dark eyes. I saw only terror. Logan was scared of dying. "Because...because that woman didn't have anyone to protect her." Oh, my God, did I just say "protect?" Logan doesn't need "protecting," he just needs help.

Although I thought my word choice was terrible, Logan didn't seem to feel the same way. His shoulders fell and he relaxed. "Thank you, Tegan. Really. You don't have to do this."

"Well, I have nothing better to do," I joked, trying to smirk.

He stood up and hugged me. It caught me insanely off guard. I did not expect that at all. But, I didn't complain. He was warm, and gave good hugs. You know the kind of hugs that you just melt into? That was a Logan hug.

He pulled away suddenly.

No, wait come back.

"Sorry," he apologized bashfully.

I nudged his arm. "Don't be sorry. That was a nice hug." Did I seriously just say that?

He laughed.

Yep...I did.

"Alright, Tegan, now what do we do, since we know that other people have experienced this before?" he asked.

"We...keep looking," I stated. "Let's try to find someone who beat a poltergeist's ass."

After an hour of searching, though, it didn't look so good for Logan. No one survived their alleged poltergeist possession.

"That's okay, though," I said with a glass-half-full attitude. "All these guys suffered in silence. You have me, and I'm sure your dad and brother will help—"

"No," he interrupted. "I don't want them involved in this. They'll freak out."

"So, I won't?" I questioned.

He shook his head. "You sass off Carrie. You're really strong. Why do you think I told you?"

"Because I'm a stubborn bitch who won't mind her own business."

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about," he exclaimed. "You're so confident about everything. It's actually really refreshing. Everyone nowadays is either so cocky you can't stand it or won't take a compliment for anything. You're the kind of girl who..." He trailed off.

"The kind of girl who, what?" I was actually really curious as to what he was going to say.

"Never mind," he insisted. "Forget I said anything."

"No, tell me."

He grinned. "There's the stubbornness."

"Sorry."

He sighed. "What I was going to say was," he looked at me in the eyes, and something changed in his expression, "you're the kind of girl..."

I just stared at him. It was getting kind of frustrating that he wouldn't finish his sentence.

He started to stand up. "For Christ's sake!" He cupped his hands on my face and kissed me.