Sorry this update took so long. :/ Anyways, here it is!
Enjoy!
~
16 May 2015
46 days before...
It was morning; a few hours earlier I'd woken up from the worst night of sleep I've ever had, and Logan was still upstairs continuing his snooze fest, completely relaxed and worry free.
I, on the other hand, was not.
After a terrible night of scattered thoughts and frequent tossing and turning, my body'd finally given up and woken me around four this morning. Ever since then, I'd been trying to think of the perfect way to tell Logan about the move. And so far I'd gotten nowhere.
Right now it was nine, and I was still pondering how exactly to do it. So many factors, bad timings, and wrong attitudes could make this whole ordeal ten times more disastrous. If I was too blunt about it, just came with it outright, he could think I was indifferent and that I didn't care about how he would take it. But if I was too sensitive about it then he could think I thought he was weak. Or if he was in a bad mood and I told him, he could go into super asshole Logan. Or if he was in a good mood when I tell him, then he could quickly get out of his good mood.
So many things could go wrong!
Feeling buried with stress, I feel my head start to throb. Deciding I need to take a break from thinking, I slide off my bed and retrieve my journal's hiding place from under my mattress. I put it on my desk and sit in the swivel chair, grabbing a pen and opening it to the next empty page.
Logan was my best friend and my confidant. However, there were things I couldn't even tell Logan. Every person should have some type of private time to gather their thoughts, and my journal was it. It was my paper solitude; I told it everything, including the things I told Logan and the things I didn't.
Starting off from the last entry about how the boys had made it to the championship, I fill it in on what's been happening ever since then and ending at my dilemma. By the time I'm done, a lot of the previous tension has left me and I don't feel as scatterbrained or as stressed.
However, despite my relaxing time of writing, I still hadn't thought of a way to tell Logan.
Maybe I should just tell him when he wakes up. Or when we're eating breakfast.
Letting out a breath, I sit thinking for a few more seconds before getting out of the chair, hiding my journal back in its hiding spot, and opening the door to leave my room. I take the few steps needed to get in front of Logan's door, and after hesitating for only a second, I let myself in.
Logan has two sleeping habits: if he's cold in his sleep he curls up so his knees are at his chest and the blankets are bundled everywhere around him, but if he's not cold then he's sprawled out and usually will be at some odd angle on the bed.
It was pretty amusing to see, no matter which way he was. Right now, he was sprawled out on his stomach, his head next to the wall and his long legs hanging off the bed starting at his knee.
"Ridiculous," I mutter as I keep staring at him. The blanket was tightly wrapped around his waist and right leg multiple times, making me wonder how exactly he'd moved to get it that way.
"Logan," I say loudly, knowing he probably won't respond on the first try. He was such a heavy sleeper.
I sit in a vacant spot on the bed next to his back. "Wakey wakey, Logan." Prodding him in the face with a finger, I say it over and over again, getting louder each time.
"Wakey wakey!" I yell when I start getting impatient. I shake him harder and move so I'm facing him on the bed, maneuvering so I'm on my knees. "Logan!" I shout.
He groans loudly and turns his head the other way so his nose is touching the wall.
Grinning at his enthusiastic response, I sit on top of him, my back against the wall as my legs hang over the side of his bed. His room was so masculine; the dark blue walls went along with the stark black comforter of his bed and his dresser, desk, and wooden framing were all sleek and matching.
"Logan," I tease, a grin slipping onto my face as I see his face pull into a frown. "It's time to get up."
"No," he moans, his eyes still closed as he talks. "Leave me alone."
Ignoring his grumpiness, I cheerfully answer, "I can't do that! At least not until you get up!"
"Alayna," he mumbles, opening an eye so he can see me. "If you don't get off and leave me alone, I'll throw you in the pool."
I knew he meant it. He'd thrown me in my pool so many times before I knew he wouldn't bluff about this, especially when the reason being was because I'd disrupted his precious sleep.
Scrambling off of him, I watch as he closes his eye again. Grinning wickedly, I hold my hair back and get close to his ear, gently whispering, "Logan."
First thing I see is him shiver, goosebumps running down his back and going throughout his whole body, then a second later his head jerks up towards mine.
Gasping in pain as his head collides with mine, tears rush into my eyes as I skedaddle away from him, my hands rushing to the place where his head had hit and cupping my right eye.
"Ow, ow, ow," I repeat in pain, feeling throbs around my eye. My bottom lip trembles and a few tears slip out.
I can hear Logan next to me. "Oh, my gosh, Alayna! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to! Are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!" He grabs my arms and bends so he can look at my face while I'm hunched over. "Alayna, can I see it?" he asks softly.
My other eye can see him, and he looks stressed and anxious. To his question, I move my head up and uncover my eye.
Trying to look out of that eye is all a blurred mess, but the other one can see Logan as he looks at me. He gently touches the place around my eye with a few fingers. "Alayna, I am so sorry," he apologizes again.
"It's okay," I say, not liking the way he was looking. I try to smile. "I know you didn't mean to. I just wasn't expecting you to jump up like that."
He stiffens a little and a weird look comes onto his face, one I can't define. "I wasn't expecting you to whisper in my ear," he mumbles.
Not quite sure if I was supposed to hear that or not, my eyes quit tearing up (except of course for the swollen one) and I slide off the bed.
"Come on," I say, trying to get rid of the tense air. "You've hurt me enough today; let's go eat breakfast."
He grimaces and gets off the bed, letting his shirtless body come into view. "That's not funny, Laynes. I feel really bad."
I laugh, ignoring the pain in my eye from smiling. "Just come on."
He follows me in his shorts as I walk out of his room and down the stairs. When we enter the kitchen, we find that my parents are already here--my dad drinking coffee at the kitchen table while my mom flips pancakes. They both turn to us when we enter.
My mom immediately stops what she's doing and rushes to me looking concerned. She pushes my hair aside so she can get a better look. "Alayna, what happened to your eye? It's all red and swollen."
I try to smile, but it probably comes out looking weird. "I was trying to wake Logan up, so I sat on him and he---" I turn to look at Logan next to me, but find he's not there. Frowning, I look around until I find him by the pancake batter, mixing it with a gleeful smile on his face.
He looks up at me, looking completely entranced by the batter. "It's chocolate chip," he tells me, sounding amazed.
I roll my eyes at him, his amazement making me want to laugh. He loves my mom's chocolate chip pancakes. He's always begging her to make them. Seeing him like this, so giddy and excited like a little kid on Halloween almost makes me smile, but I stop short when I think of something.
I can't tell Logan about the move.
At least, not right now I can't. My mom was making his favorite breakfast in the world, and he was so happy. I didn't want to ruin it.
My mom seems to notice his happiness too, because she gives me a questioning look, her eyes asking when I was going to tell him.
To that question, I choose the easy choice and decide I'll tell him later.
I finish telling her the story, my dad chuckling when I get to how Logan hit my eye. After checking one last time if my eye's alright, my mom returns back to the oven, shooing Logan away when she does.
My mind now on my forgotten dilemma, I sit at the kitchen table and pour myself some orange juice. Logan sits next to me, his eyes trained on my mom as she pours more batter into the skillet.
As we sit in silence, pouring our orange juice and eating the already made bacon on the table, the perfect idea comes to me. As I stare at the bacon (which is what made me think of it), a warm feeling glows in my stomach. It was so perfect.
After my mom delivers the first batch of pancakes, my dad looks up from his phone and asks, "So, what do you two have planned for today?"
"We're going to a movie," I answer quickly before Logan can say anything. Going to the movies was part of my plan.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Logan's eyebrows rise. "We are?" he asks, finally taking his eyes off the pancakes.
I turn to face him. "Yes. We are." I turn back to my dad. "We're going to see A Night in New York."
My dad starts slathering his pancakes with butter, and I do the same. "Do you need money?" he asks.
Me having no job, I always need money. "Yes---" I answer, but I'm cut off.
"I'll pay for her," Logan butts in loudly, and when I turn to look at him he keeps his eyes straightforward at my dad. I notice a light hint of pink surfacing on his cheeks.
My dad shrugs, his eyes scanning the newspaper again. "Alright then, I'm fine with that. Now I don't have to pay for her jumbo size popcorn and mega large drink."
I grin at him, thinking of how much watching movies makes me hungry. I turn to Logan, who I find is already looking at me with his mouth barely turned upwards at the corners.
The snarky comment I'd been about to say leaves my mind, and I stare at his facial expression, trying to figure out why he was looking at me like that.
I lift my eyebrows at him, trying to ask him without talking why he was looking at me like that. In return, his eyes roam all over my face, from my eyebrows to my forehead to my cheek to my eyes. I frown.
He returns to his pancakes without a verbal or nonverbal answer, that same weird smile on his face, and after watching him for a few seconds I grab an unused spoon off the table and jab his leg with it.
~
After breakfast (and after Logan had finished eating his ninth pancake, which was the one that finally made him say he was full), we look up movie times and find a showing for A Night in New York at eleven.
We leave the kitchen to go to our rooms, and by the time 10:20 comes around, we're ready. We leave for the movies and after a short ten minute ride, we arrive. Logan gives me money for the concessions stand (which probably isn't the best idea to send me to get the food, but I wasn't going to complain). While I get the food, he gets the tickets. After ordering a jumbo size popcorn and a mega large drink, I order his usual: a small popcorn (lightly buttered), a medium Pepsi, and a box of Thin Mints that I know he'll share with me.
By the time the kid behind the counter gives me all the food, Logan's walking up to me, two tickets in his hand. He grabs his drink from me.
"Bad news," he tells me. "A Night in New York was sold out. I got us The Graveyard Trucker instead. Hope you're not mad."
I gape at him. "What?"
Without answering me, he heads to the guy taking tickets, and I grab his arm right when he gives them to the guy.
"Graveyard Trucker. Down the hallway, fourth on the left," the guy says monotonously.
Logan thanks him and walks past him, grabbing my hand as he does. He drags me past the guy and down the hallway.
I immediately put the brakes on. "I'm not seeing this," I declare, and I try to wrench away from him. He tightens his hand on mine, stopping my flight, and turns to face me.
He has a stern look on his face, but his eyes are bright, which tell me he's laughing at me.
I frown and try to get him to let go of me, but he holds it tightly so I can't get my hand out of his.
I bite my lip, a trickle of fear crawling down my neck. "I'm not seeing this," I say defiantly.
He frowns and pulls me to the side so a group of kids can get past us. We're now next to the wall, the dim lighting making it a little more secluded. He's still holding my hand.
"Laynes," he says, "It's just a movie."
"A scary movie!" I screech. I'm not good with scary movies and Logan knows that! I don't get why he picked the Graveyard Trucker when he knows it'll just scare me.
He takes a step closer to me, and I don't realize he's put a hand on my back because I'm freaking out too much.
He looks into my eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you, Alayna. If the trucker suddenly decides to jump out of the screen and come after us, I'll sacrifice myself so you can get away."
I feel my throat tighten. "You'd better," I mutter, looking away from his eyes and finding a Graveyard Trucker cutout across the hall from us. It was a huge 18-wheeler with the headlights being the only thing you could see.
Suddenly feeling chilly, I walk out from our secluded spot to the entrance of the Graveyard Trucker movie, saying, "Let's just get this over with."
I can hear his footsteps behind me as he follows me in, no doubt a grin on his face.
~
When a severed head comes flying out from the forest where a girl had just ran, I scream along with the people on the screen. I sink into Logan's side further and use his arm that's around me to cover my face. Ever since the movie'd started, I'd been frozen in the chair, my knees pulled up to my face and half of me sitting in Logan's seat. The popcorn had been discarded to the floor right after I had scrambled onto Logan's lap about halfway through the movie and it'd spilled everywhere.
Not being able to close my eyes, I instead shove my face into Logan's chest. In the movie, I can hear a chainsaw being started, and then more screams and what sounds to be multiple people running in the forest. There are shouts of different words from different people, and I press into Logan's chest further, trying to block out the noise.
In response, I feel Logan's arms come around me and pull me closer until I am sitting in his lap and only my legs are left in my original chair. Surprised, I open my eyes and look at Logan, who's not watching the movie but is instead looking at me. He has a weird look on his face, kind of like the same one he was making at breakfast this morning before I'd jabbed him with my spoon.
"Logan?" I ask curiously, right as a girl's high-pitched scream comes from behind me and I involuntarily turn to look at the movie. Forgetting what'd been happening with Logan, I gasp at the sight in front of me and turn around again, latching onto Logan's neck and closing my eyes as I do.
An hour later, the credits in the movie start rolling and the lights in the theater come on. The people around us start getting up and leaving, some of them rolling their eyes at me because I'd ruined their movie experience.
"Laynes," Logan mutters, and I immediately scramble off of him.
"Sorry," I apologize, just wanting to get through this awkwardness I was feeling. Sitting on Logan's lap had felt okay, even safe, during the movie, but now that the movie was over, thinking about it made me feel awkward and weird.
"Are you ready to go?" Logan asks, and I can see a huge grin on his face.
I frown. "Why are you smiling like that?"
He doesn't stop. "Like what?"
"That!"
"What?" He starts gathering his stuff.
"Like this!"
When he sees my face, he laughs. "I'm not doing that! You look like a gargoyle."
I huff. "You're still smiling."
He starts exiting the row and I follow him, not missing the popcorn on the floor that had spilled because of me. He looks back at me, his huge grin still going on. "What? Can I not smile?"
"Not like that," I mutter, finally exiting the movie and entering into the theater's hall. Getting my phone out of my pocket, I wait for it to turn on and check the time. 1:13.
I put my phone back in my pocket. "Hey, Logan? Are you hungry?"
I watch him shrug. "I could eat."
"Which means you're starving. And I'm hungry too, since that movie completely froze my intestines and wouldn't let me eat. Let's go to the Kooky Shack."
He stops and turns to face me, a twinkle in his eyes. "Yes. That's a perfect idea."
Part Two of my plan was in motion.
~