Fluke

36: Ex Marks the Spot

I forced a smile onto my face. "You were doing fine."

"All I can say is that I didn't want to deal with this right now," he continued.

"Then when?"

"After we didn't say anything to each other, then somehow magically everything is fine, and we get back to just regular, boring us."

"Sounds great, Logan, but I don't think that's gonna work. Look, I just want to know what the deal is. Am I as important to you as I want to be?"

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you the whole story?"

I nodded. "Yeah, probably. Maybe. I don't know."

"It's really not that complicated. I asked her to be my girlfriend when we were around ten—" He was interrupted by my phone ringing. "You can answer that."

I looked down at the screen, and it was my dad. I put the phone up to my ear. "Thanks, Logan. Hello?"

"Reagan, the internet's down again, and me and your mom don't know what those damn prickly things in the ocean are called," my dad said.

I blinked a couple times. "So you called me? I can't fix the internet from here."

"What are the damn prickly things called?"

"Oh," I said with a laugh. That made a lot more sense. "I think you guys are thinking of urchins."

"Urchins, right. Thanks, Reagan. I have to go since your brothers are being urchins, but we can have a better conversation later. I love you," my dad said, and before I could ask why my brothers were urchins, he hung up. I stared at the dark screen for a moment, then looked up at Logan.

"So anyway, she and I—" Logan began, but I interrupted.

"He thinks I know enough about the ocean to be a sufficient replacement for Google." I pressed my hands to my chest. "This is the best day of my life."

"Rea," Logan said, and I hummed in response. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

I shrugged, but the smile wouldn't leave my face. "I just like being good enough."

"I seriously don't know why it surprises you every time someone tells you that." He leaned in closer to me. "And also, Morgan and I spent twelve years trying to figure each other out, and I never had the chance to figure myself out. You know exactly who you are, but you don't try to change anyone. Can you blame me for wanting that for myself?"

He pressed his lips against mine, and before we went any further, I pulled away for a second.

"Do you feel any better now that the water we're in is a little clearer?" I asked.

"Kind of," he said.

I looked over his shoulder, and there were two green things sitting on the other side of him. Our Venus flytraps? "Did you kidnap Blue and Racecar?"

"No, I won full custody of them in court, thanks to your addiction."

"What addiction?"

"Your caffeine addiction. It really makes the children miserable," Logan said, and I laughed.

It wasn't exactly how I had planned our conversation to go (and I even forgot to ask him about the name for the baby whale), but it felt casual and comfortable, and that felt much better than forcing out some I miss you speech. He and I had our own way of living, and I liked that way better than blowing a minor tiff out of proportion.

Sure, I was a bit awkward and had no idea what I was doing when it came to human relationships, but he didn't either. But as long as we liked the path we forged, what did it matter to anyone else?