Even though the UTI medicine made me drowsy, thankfully it kicked in right away and both the burning sensation and urge to pee repeatedly both subsided. Given the birth control effectiveness warning, even though Logan had bought new condoms, we abstained all week so my lady bits healed.
Logan's coaches rode him hard in practices again during every afternoon, to the point where his giant feet dragged across the carpet by the time he climbed the three flights of stairs home. Our dinners were mostly silent while we sleepily inhaled our food, I showered while he unpacked, then packed his football bag, and we both crashed early.
After the ESPN interview, Logan's level of attention increased slightly but mine increased tenfold. Students I'd never met before came up to the information desk at the library, whispered and pointed at me within and between my classes, even took a few pictures. The interested herds on the sidewalk across the street from our apartment building increased in size and volume level, as a few reporters shouted at us, especially every morning when we left for class together.
Midterms in all our classes were scheduled for next week and Logan bore the pressure of the entire Husky Nation's hopes for an upset win over USC, so the most he and I interacted before Saturday's game was while we crammed and quizzed each other for our Anatomy class exam next Tuesday. Logan knew the material better than I did, so he more often quizzed me but assured me that review also reinforced the information in his memory.
A few times I sat back on my end of the sofa, our notes sprawled on the cushion between us, and stared in awe at Logan. Not just the adorable way he pressed the tip of his tongue into the left corner of his mouth while he concentrated, the deeper blue intensity that filled his eyes, or the small grin he wore once he got a quizzed answer correct, but his level of attention and patience.
He would make a good science teacher.
"The cells that secrete acids that dissolve bone matrix are..." his voice faded off as his eyes lifted to mine.
"Osteoclasts?" I asked with lifted eyebrows and slightly scrunched up nose.
"Are you asking or telling me, baby?" he teased and hugged his Anatomy textbook against his chest like he hid the answer.
"Telling," I answered right before a yawn stretched my jaw and mouth wide.
"Think we're ready for bed." He caught my yawn and returned it with one of his, then closed his book. Right when the cushion between us cleared, I scooted forwards and pressed my lips gently against his.
"Thank you," I murmured while I pulled back. "For... being serious about studying."
"It's important to me too," he assured me with a small grin, then we stood up together and quickly moved through our nighttime routines.
"My parents come in Saturday," a sigh left my lips as I snuggled my head into the warm, firm skin on Logan's left pectoral muscle. "I... never completely cleared the air with them, just moved away and ignored a lot of things."
"I'll be right there," he promised in a voice much deeper and raspy with sleep, so I pressed a soft kiss into his bare shoulder and rolled slightly away. Within a few slow, even breaths, sleep pulled both of us under.
Where are they!?
For the second time in two weeks, my toes tapped on the slick gray floors in SeaTac Airport's baggage claim area. The time on my phone read closer to two pm on the Saturday that my parents' flight had a scheduled noon arrival time. After two late morning tutoring appointments, Jake from my Stat Methods class and English Composition with Kade, I rushed back to the apartment parking lot and drove straight here. My tutoring session with Jake was nice because we both worked on our programming assignment even though I suspected by his impatience that he just wanted my answers and not how I'd gotten them.
After another uncomfortable and unnecessary hug from Kade once we completed his midterm paper early, he muttered quietly, "Logan's a lucky guy. Thanks Ellie."
"You're welcome," I replied and scooped up my backpack off the floor near my chair in the library's upstairs study area. "But I'm the lucky one. Sorry to rush but my parents are flying in and I need to get them. Have a good game."
My small VW Beetle weaved through I-5 South's traffic on the way to the airport, where I giggled at Logan's billboard picture. While I'd arrived two minutes before I was supposed to meet them here, the slight run from the parking garage was anticlimactic. Once I saw their two-hour delayed flight, I slouched around the airport for two hours before a text from Mom pushed a groan out of my lips.
Mom: flight finally landed.
"At this point we'll miss the game," I grumbled, crossed my arms over my chest, and leaned against the wall near the exit.
An hour ago, even though I knew Logan had taken his pre-night game nap, I texted him that we'd just seen him at the game. Eventually, a small crowd of very agitated travelers streamed into the baggage claim area, which included two familiar faces.
"Mom! Dad!" I cried out and flapped my arms frantically.
Ugh, finally.
"Ellie!" Mom brushed back a few strands of dark brown hair, which were tinted with a few more grays out of her central part, while she took quick steps towards me.
I wrapped my arms around her, buried my face in her shoulder, and took in a deep breath of her familiar perfume mixed with...
"Mom?" I craned my neck slightly back and my forehead tensed with a slight frown. "You smell like marinara sauce."
"Oh yes," she laughed quietly and pointed to a small red, circular spot near the collar of her turtleneck shirt. "I was making gravy again with Maria this morning. We drove last night after Dad's shift, stayed overnight, and flew in from San Jose."
"Red sauce," I corrected her with a smile before I released her and turned to Dad. Apprehension rolled my lower lip under but I extended my arms and we hugged stiffly.
"Ellie," he rasped out near my left ear and hugged me tightly. "You alright?"
"I'm good." After one more squeeze, I stepped back and took in the worry lines etched all over his expression, from the space between his eyebrows, around his eyes, and corners of his mouth. "What happened on your flight?"
"What didn't happen?" Mom sighed. "We boarded, then there was some engine inspection, so we deplaned, then ran across the airport and barely made our new flight. Lord knows where our luggage went but thankfully our meds are in our carry-on."
"That luggage?" One of my hands lifted and I pointed to the one conveyor belt that the crowd had lined up around. The empty belt creaked and chugged for a few rotations before the telltale sign of slammed down suitcases rang out behind the privacy flaps.
Mom and Dad hung back from the crowd while the bags were picked off one by one.
"What did you need a suitcase for if you're leaving tomorrow?" I asked as Dad grabbed a small, gray suitcase that only came up to my shin level and extended up the handle.
"Two changes of clothes, including our jerseys, plus a few things for you," Mom answered quietly.
"Me?" My eyes shifted downwards and peered at the suitcase like I had x-ray vision.
Bet it's a kitchen gadget.
Mom's dark eyes twinkled but she only grinned widely and hooked her elbow in between mine. "Let's get to the hotel and I'll show you."
"What the hell are these?" I pulled out what looked like two giant black plastic hair combs but with a grip handle on one end and five large teeth on the other from the gift bag Mom gave me.
While I'd sincerely hoped that I talked to my parents on the drive back from the airport, Dad had other plans and passed out asleep in my back seat almost as soon as I'd left the parking garage. By the dark depressions under his eyes, we left him alone. From her front passenger's seat, I randomly chatted with Mom about my classes this semester, Logan in as little detail as possible, Charlie and Wes, and my jobs.
In other words, Mom and I talked about everything except what I wanted to talk about, how I lived with Logan and the possibility I testified in Ryder's court case. Despite how I shared a deliberate lack of details about Logan, I had gushed like an idiot during that part of our conversation.
"He's... really good to me," I told her in a low voice as heat crept up into my cheeks. My eyes stayed fixed on the road but felt the weight of her gaze, so I added, "He's respectful, he does all the dishes, cooks sometimes, picks up after himself, studies, doesn't party... Mom, he walks me to my classes in the mornings and helps me with my homework."
"Sounds like things are going good," she spoke slowly, like she deliberately chose each word. "You look happy, Ellie. That's... all we want for you."
"I'm very happy." The view of the highway lanes blurred slightly when tears unexpectedly beaded over my eyes. "Mom I... I love him."
"So soon?" The surprise and doubt in her voice was obvious, so I just tucked my lower lip under my teeth and nodded slightly. By now, the heat from my cheeks flamed over my entire face and spread to my neck and chest and my hands tightened their steering wheel grip.
We fell into a somber silence after that quiet in volume but heavy in context confession, but woke up Dad when I drove through downtown Seattle. After we grabbed a couple wraps from a nearby deli, I dropped Dad off at the College Inn Hotel, a Dutch-colonial style building walking distance to campus and Husky Stadium.
Mom stayed behind in the car with me outside the hotel room, took out a small gift bag and two maroon USC jerseys out of her suitcase, and handed all their bags except her purse to Dad. While he checked in and ran their bags up to their room, Mom handed me the gift bag and gave me... I wasn't sure what they were.
"Bear claws," Mom replied with a grin, grabbed them, and demonstrated like she carved up her left thigh. "Use them for shredding meat, since you use your crock pot so much. Pot roast, pulled pork, even roast chicken."
"Umm... Like Wolverine?" I took them back from her and slipped them onto my hands. The black rubber had a weird grip but oddly I felt like a wild animal before it tore into a carcass.
Guess that's the idea.
Good thing I'm dropping off the car at the apartment because there's no way I can bring these into a game though.
"Sure." Her lips flinched into a humorless smile, then she held up a sweatshirt in a familiar shade of purple. "This too, since your old ones are getting a little ratty around the sleeves."
"Thanks." My fingers ran over the soft material. The lightweight, fitted shirt had a V-neck that ran over the shoulders to a hood and 'Washington Huskies' in gold script embroidered letters on the chest. "I love it."
Dad's frame showed up outside Mom's window, where he shook his phone outside her window and she rolled it down. The slight frown Dad wore faded as he skimmed over the screen. "Jake's team flight arrived, said we can meet him outside the visitor's entrance in an hour if we want."
"Put your jersey on, Dale." With a quick snap of her fingers, Mom tossed a maroon and gold number seven Trojans jersey at Dad. He put it on and climbed into my backseat while Mom slipped hers over her head.
"Ugggghhhh," a groan left my lips and I crossed my arms over my purple number ten jersey. "You know we're sitting right behind the Huskies' bench, right?"
"We know Sweetie but we've worn these for all Jake's games, haven't missed one yet." Mom's hand cupped gently under my chin.
Before I commented further that their superstitions were ridiculous, Dad's phone buzzed. By the smile he wore, I assumed Jake had contacted him again, which only made the silence between me and my parents since they helped me move in awkwardly painful.
How much do they communicate?
"Here we are," I announced while Mom, Dad, and I walked up to the visitor's side entrance at Husky Stadium. We rode back to the apartment, where I ran up Mom's gifts, then walked under the early evening sky.
"Such a beautiful stadium," Mom murmured in a soft voice, her eyes tracked upwards around the brick exterior, and her lips parted slightly. "No offense to Jake but this one is charming."
"Whole campus is," Dad replied gruffly. "Must be why it's so expensive."
Really? He says that like he's paying for any of it.
"Nonsense, Dale. We know Ellie's tight with her finances," Mom interjected before my mouth even opened and fixed her eyes on me. "Ellie, you said classes are going smoothly?"
"So far, yeah," I answered and slipped my inside hand around her small waist. Since she was a couple inches taller than me, my shoulder bumped into her side while we walked. "Midterms are next week but we've been studying a lot."
"We?" Dad lifted his eyebrows, which were filled with more gray than I remembered, and his hazel-brown eyes peered at me.
"Me and Logan," I replied firmly. "We have one class together but he's as serious about school as me."
"Sounds like a good fit," Mom pacified with a very noticeable, hard 'drop it' stare at Dad.
Since Dad only huffed quietly, I added, "He's a better roommate than I would've guessed and we've got a pretty domesticated schedule. We're home almost every night of the week, even after the games."
"Have you heard about the housing transfer?" Dad asked in a strained voice. By the tight clench of his jaw, I knew he was still uncomfortable with Logan as my roommate.
Probably best not to mention the UTI.
"No, but I'm fine if it doesn't happen -" I started when a tall, familiar frame appeared in our view and stole my voice.
With shuffled small steps, I detached myself from Mom's side hug and jogged over to the security fence outside the visitor's side locker room. Dad had texted Jake we'd arrived and not thirty seconds later, the door burst open and my brother stood in his 6ft4 USC Trojan glory.
"Jake!"
His dark brown eyes scanned around the parking lot, locked on mine, and he took long, quick steps in our direction. Despite the black waist-high fence barrier between us, I flung my arms around his neck and squeezed tightly. While one of his hands gripped his helmet's cage at his outer thigh, the other hugged around my lower back.
"Hey Ellie, Mom, Dad." Jake pulled back with a smile, then hugged our parents. "Glad you made it."
My brother's shoulders sat squared and relaxed as usual, a familiar lazy grin pulled across his face as he separated from Mom's hug. His eyes glimmered at me like two pools of melted dark chocolate and my lips pulled up into a smile on their own.
"Interview reactions go okay? My stories page blew up and I got asked about you more than the actual game." His deep voice spoke in an even, cool tone that suggested that hadn't bothered him. If I closed my eyes, then I wouldn't have assumed he was just about to take the field against Logan's team in front of seventy-eight thousand fans.
"Logan handled his social media reactions, which were mixed..." I admitted with a sigh and wrung one hand's fingers in the other palm. "But it feels good that we're public now, so thanks for fielding questions on it."
"I meant what I said, even if ESPN twisted my wording order so I looked like a fucking saint." One of his eyes closed in a playful wink. "Is Hightower -"
"Treating me good," I replied with a warning edge in my voice, accompanied by slightly narrowed eyes up at him because Dad's posture stiffened next to me.
To my surprise, Jake's grin softened slightly and his large hand squeezed my shoulder. "He'd better."
"And you'd better be okay with it this time." I pointed a warning index finger at him, before I was the one that grinned. "You know, from twenty hours away."
"Okay?" He echoed and slightly tilted his head backwards. Before I responded, he barked out a sharp laugh. "I told him not to give up on you, Ellie."
"I, well, you - what!?" I stared at Jake with most likely complete dumbfoundedness written on my face that those words had just come out of my formerly fist-first brother's mouth. My forehead scrunched with tension and my voice pleaded when I asked, "Say that again?
A warm chuckle preceded the sharp contrast of his hardened eye gaze down at me. "As long as you're happy, Ellie."
Again, my mouth gaped open that these words came from Jake's mouth.
Did he hit really bad turbulence on the flight up?
"Alright, so... When you see my real brother Jake, please let me know," I muttered more to myself than him, but his mouth curled up into a smirk.
"You can still console LT after we wipe their asses all over their own field," he assured me.
"Whew, that's better." One of my palms rested on my chest like I calmed my heartbeat.
Jake's dark hair flipped up slightly from an early evening breeze and he ran his free hand through it. "So Mom and Dad asked me to stay behind tonight, see you for dinner?"
"Absolutely." My head bobbed quickly. "As long as you are nice to my boyfriend."
He coughed slightly but nodded, then slipped on his burgundy helmet with the gold Trojan's logo he'd displayed on wall posters since he was seven years old. The same number splayed across his chest.
A sense of pride puffed up my chest at the sight of my brother, dressed in USC's uniform and trotted out onto the field. While Jake no doubt dreamt that he played football past college, there was no doubt from the way his eyes gleamed that he currently lived out one of his childhood dreams. When he stopped and looked over his shoulder, I only had one response.
"Good luck, Jake."
________________________________
Q: What's the strangest library one of your IHFP books has been added onto?
A: As much as the the 'Don't read' or 'Meh' lists drive a stake into my heart (hehe), gotta go with Vampire.