33: Adulting, Part 2

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"You wouldn't," Logan muttered.

"I would. If it's as sticky as you claim it to be, that bird has some serious health issues, and it's best to just remove the source of bacteria as soon as possible," I said.

"No. No way in hell am I going to cut my hair."

"You don't have to cut it. You just have to let me cut it. I cut my own hair when I was six, so I clearly know what I'm doing."

He pressed his hand to the non-poopy side of his head. "Great, Miss Know-It-All is back. You're lucky I love you, because I wouldn't put up with this shit from anyone else."

I paused. He wouldn't put up with this shit from anyone else? Not even Morgan? A smile spread across my face. That seemed promising.

"You know, on second thought, those scissors would be great, so I can stab myself with them," Logan added.

But—wait.

"What'd you say?" I asked.

"I said that I'd like to stab myself," Logan said.

"Before that."

"I expressed my displeasure with your know-it-all attitude."

"Just after that."

"For fuck's sake, Rea, I can't remember. We can't all be super geniuses like you who can remember what Timmy said to them on the playground on January sixteenth in second grade. Oh, and by the way, Timmy said that you're annoying, but I'm sure you knew that," Logan said.

If he was too chicken to say it again, then that was perfectly fine with me. It made being upset with him a much more manageable task.

"I'm getting the scissors," I said.

"You can't cut my hair if you can't find me," he said as he brushed past me.

I watched him as he headed for the front door. "Seal watchtower."

"Fuck you," he shouted, but he didn't alter his course at all.

Even after he shut the door behind him, my eyes were fixated on the trail he left behind. There wasn't a visible one, no, but it was like I could still hear his voice in my head. I barely heard two sets of footsteps creak down the stairs, and although I didn't look to see who was there, I knew who they belonged to, both logically and by sound. We really had become a close group by spending half a summer together.

"I told you that this would happen. Now you have no idea what the truth is," Brett said.

"He said he loves me accidentally." The words escaped from my mouth, but when I said them, it felt different, like I finally realized what they meant. It seemed like a very un-Logan thing to say, but there were times his true thoughts snuck out of his mouth before he could cover them with sarcasm and hostility.

Jia let out a sigh. "Reagan, honey, maybe you should make some coffee and take a break from this. It's all happening really fast."

"I think adding caffeine to my system would probably overwork my heart and kill me at this point." I kept my eyes on the front door. "I'll need a whole pot when I get back."

"Don't do it. Don't go after him," Brett said.

But I followed my heart all the way out to Paradise City, and I couldn't just abandon it when it needed me the most. My brain needed answers, my pride (though nonexistent) wanted affirmation that Morgan was no one, and my heart? My heart longed for a person for once in my life, and he seemed to be the best shot I had.

In the kitchen, just like any other home, we had a drawer filled with stuff we needed but couldn't put anywhere else. I opened it up, searched through the contents for a moment, and I grabbed the scissors and dashed out the door.

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