dedicated to Meg-loves-books on deviantart for the adorable cover she made!
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"I'm so going to murder you," I seethed through gritted teeth as we made our way down the steps of the academy entrance.
"I know."
"I'm going to kill you and chuck your body off the Empire State Building."
"I'm aware."
"I will feed you to sharks slowly, limb by limb."
"So you've said."
"I don't think you're taking my death threats seriously enough," I muttered.
The deathly tension between the two of us wasn't translating properly over to the mass surrounding us. No one had a clue that I was throwing blatant threats at Logan. Somehow, my vicious words seemed to cause girls to giggle and coo at how "adorable" we were.
It's not going to be adorable when I drop-kick this idiot off the Great Wall of China.
A tight-knit group stopped whispering as I passed them, and I realized they were the same kids that had bullied me last Friday. It was unnerving to see no hatred and contempt in the glint of their eyes. They watched me with an envious curiosity now, complete with wide gazes and hanging jaws.
"I feel like you," I said quietly. Maybe I should run away to Ontario, Canada. Ha. They'd never find me there, would they?
"She's so pretty," someone said from close by. "No wonder Logan likes her."
"She's probably the number two on the ranks!" someone shouted. "That's probably the reason why he likes her!"
"Don't you think she's really pretty?"
"Maybe I should dye my hair red."
Excuse me, Headmistress--I believe your students have been replaced by clones created by the government. They're out to destroy me and I think you need to do something about it before I die.
I repeated my thoughts to Logan but he merely scoffed at the thought that I could be potentially hunted by the American government.
"Alex, we should totally hang out!" Pepper Smithson called out, and I stiffened in horror as my imagination created a scenario where Pepper and Alex Finch were friends.
Yeah, Canada was starting to sound real tempting.
Once we crossed the gates and then headed towards the bus stop, I shuddered. "I think have to go purify myself now. That was the most horrifying experience I've gone through since James decided to have a food fight with me in the cafeteria."
"If you're looking for someone to still hate you, James is at the top of the list," suggested Logan.
"I know. He told me that himself today after lunch," I grinned. "Good ol' Mayfield--I can always count on him for anything anti-Finch. Normally, I could just turn to anyone in the entire academy, but someone just had to go and destroy the foundation of our generation, didn't they?"
A bus pulled up next to us, and I heard Logan's frustrated sigh escape his mouth. "I'm sorry, alright? I never knew what really went down between you and that red-head from second year. You can't blame me for knowing she nearly ratted you out to the press."
"You have demolished my entire reputation," I continued as the two of us boarded the bus and took our stances side-by-side next to a metal pole. "I had a thing going--the most hated girl in the entire academy. Do you know how hard it is to get that hated? Everyone knew I was a nobody so nobody investigated. Now look at me! I'm the female Logan Cross!"
"You say that like it's such a bad thing," Logan grumbled.
"It is. I have become the thing I have hated."
"Now you're just being mean."
"Trust me, that's barely touching the word 'mean' in my dictionary."
Logan should feel lucky that I hadn't unleashed the wraths of the seven circles of hell onto him when I heard what he had done. I know what you're all thinking: "Park, don't you think the fires of the Underworld are a bit much? You're a princess, shouldn't you be used to attention?"
Of course I'm used to it--when I'm actually Park Sparrow, that is. At the moment, however, as I stood on this bus donning a disguise, I was Alex Finch: an ugly wallflower in the background, insulted on upon first glance, unnoticed for the rest of the night. Now I was the damn Mona Lisa being showcased at the Louvre for every tourist passing through France to see.
That meant curiosity. I had intrigued people. They'll be wanting to know more and the last time someone ended up with more information than they should, there had been quite the explosion of trouble.
The bus pulled into its second to last stop on its route, stopping right outside Madame Lerona's Fortune-Telling shop. I pushed my way to the front and hopped off, my boots slamming onto the pavement.
"Why are we getting off here?" Logan asked as he joined my side. "Are you meeting your archaeologist father's friend again?"
"Oh, you're hilarious," I said. "I'm actually meeting someone quite important."
"Whoa, Alex Finch has friends? Who would've thought? Certainly not me because she spent the entire day chewing me out on why she doesn't have friends."
I punched Logan on the arm as the two of us continued down the sidewalks of the city. "Do you know who Elijah Bishop is?"
"Elijah Bishop, your cousin?" he asked while stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks. "I ran into him a few years back on a mission--why?"
A scowl crossed my face as I realized my cousin had known about Logan's secret life and hadn't uttered a single word to me about it, nor dropped any hint that Logan would be my bodyguard.
Logan kept nudging me in the arm but my lips were sealed as we stalked through the city--I was too busy mentally cursing my cousin into the depths of Tartarus to listen to Logan.
Finally, I turned into a crowded coffee shop called Paradise Coffee, lit by dangling golden lights that gave the interior a cozy glow. Tables were crammed with high school hooligans, academy study groups, college nappers, or regulars flipping through books. An acoustic piece was being played in the background, a song I recognized as one of Elijah's favorite tracks.
"Do you see that tall, black-haired guy with the glasses?" I said to Logan, pointing to the said boy behind the counter, who was greeting a customer with the friendliest of smiles on his lips.
"Did you really bring me here to gawk at the hot barista all the girls are in love with?" Logan groaned, shooting me an exasperated look.
Amusement shot through me. "Wow, even you know about the guy."
Logan simply rolled his eyes. "Sixty-six percent of Cross Academy's population are girls. You think I don't hear what they say every day?"
"Look at you, Gossip Girl," I snickered, making Logan grimace. "Well, put this on your blog--that Elijah behind the counter is also my cousin."
Logan glanced back to Elijah with a skeptical look. "No way. That is not the Elijah Bishop I know."
"I'm pretty sure it's him," I countered. "Unless I've been living with a total stranger for seven years. That sounds a little dangerous, don't you think?"
"What happened to the hair? He had blond streaks, didn't he?" Logan wondered, and I blinked in surprise. The last time Elijah had streaks in his midnight strands, he was seventeen, making me ten at the time. Since Logan was my age, he hadn't even reached the embarrassing tween period. Had Logan known my cousin for that long?
Funny--I had grown up with Elijah my whole life but never once did I meet Logan Cross. If Logan had met Elijah all the way back in his punk rock phase, then I surely would've met Logan then as well, since Elijah had lived with my family and the majority of my time was spent trailing Elijah around if my older brother was preoccupied.
So how come I didn't remember Logan?
"And the piercings," continued Logan, his fingers ghosting the area above his lips and around his ears. "
Elijah had been pretty punk rock back then, but when grave circumstances arose, he erased the dyed hair and removed the metal piercings in his skin to become the poster boy for mainstream hipster.
"That can't be Elijah," Logan concluded, denial written all over his face.
"The one and only," I answered, shrugging off the questions swimming in my head. "He owns the store actually. As a favor for taking care of me, I do volunteer work here."
"How do you volunteer work at a coffee shop?"
"Actually, if you take a seat, you can find out," I smiled, getting on the tip of my toes to pat his head. "Here's a hint--I don't get paid."
Before Logan could ask anymore questions, or further protest Elijah's image, I headed behind the counter and into the back, where I slipped into the bathroom. I stripped of my school uniform and into a simple attire of tight jeans and a black t-shirt tucked at the waist before tying a black apron around at my waist.
The rest of the day seemed to float on by quickly, the afternoon sunlight turning into a waning sunset behind the far off mountains. The line had thinned down until there was no file of people beside the counters. Soon, more than enough tables were empty--the students had gone home, leaving behind a select few in corners with their heads buried in books.
"I can't believe you never told me Logan Cross was in this business," I complained to Elijah, who merely beamed at me.
"It's policy, little Sparrow," Elijah said, casting Logan a quick glance. "Names are confidential information, didn't you know?"
"Oh, is that why you spend every dinner complaining about all the agents you've had to work with?" I snorted. Elijah tugged on my ponytail as he set off to clean the milk pitchers.
"You're not allowed to tell people I do that," he grumbled, though a smile slipped back onto his lips, cracking that serious façade. "Honestly, I didn't tell you because I wanted to be there when the two of you finally realized who each other were. Imagine it--two bitter enemies coming face to face and realizing that the polar opposite battlefield they fight upon is actually a common ground for two strikingly similar souls, different from the rest--"
"Elijah, please, enough with the dramatic monologue," I sighed. "This is a coffee shop, not the stage for a Shakespearean play."
"All the world's a stage, little Sparrow," he smirked. At that moment, a new customer appeared before the registers, appearing to be none other than the devil himself, hands in his slacks as he eyed the menu above us.
"I always wondered what Alex Finch did in her spare time that made it impossible for her to study, but I never imagined her working," Logan mused, smiling crookedly.
I raised an eyebrow while grinning at the excellent trap he just created for himself. "So you do have a crush on me," I said. The faintly entertained glimmer in his tawny eyes vanished and a blush crept onto his cheeks.
"W-what are you...that was just a lie!" he stuttered.
"Then why else would you be thinking about a girl you supposedly hated?"
"They were completely platonic thoughts."
"You're getting a little defensive for just platonic, aren't you?"
"I'm going to murder you."
"Hey now, I thought I was the violent one."
There was a sharp pain on the back of my head and I threw an angry look at Elijah, who was regarding the two of us with a very amused look in his inky blue eyes.
"Ever heard of being nice, little Sparrow?" Elijah said before turning to Logan, a full smile on his face as he extended a long arm over the counter. "I barely recognized you, Logan Cross--from what this girl has told me, I practically envisioned you walking in here with horns and fangs."
Logan glared at me. "Is that really how you describe me to other people?"
I pretended to seem confused. "What do you mean? Is there another accurate description of you?"
"How about an extremely handsome young man? I'm joking, by the way--with a face like yours gossiped about at XYZ, it's practically impossible to not recognize the infamous Logan Cross," Elijah cut in.
"He doesn't bat for your team, Eli," I reminded my cousin. Instead of flushing or scowling, Elijah only gave me a knowing smirk as he answered with, "Oh, I'm quite aware of which team he plays for."
Elijah turned to Logan. "Just so you know, she has numerous wigs that I know she'll use if she wants to avert you, so keep an eye out for this little devil."
"You know, you really shouldn't call your volunteers such rude names. In no way whatsoever am I as ugly as the devil," I huffed.
"Are all her wigs as ugly as this one?" Logan asked. "If so, she'll be pretty easy to track down."
"I beg your pardon, this wig is downright majestic."
Yeah, the look he gave me was definitely one of intentional murder.
"What else was I supposed to say? I can't exactly tell the future king of Cimeria that his apron looked absolutely ridiculous," Logan protested.
"Of all words to use, you picked 'majestic.' A printed, frilly apron and you call it majestic--come on, Logan, aren't you some sort of prodigy agent? Shouldn't your reactions to tough situations be second nature to you?"
"Oh, I'm sorry, I must've missed How to Properly Lie to the Prince of Cimeria About His Apron 101."
Right then, a bright flash went off from beside us and we snapped our heads towards my cousin. Elijah was holding up his phone and an impish grin was spread across his lips. "That was perfect."
"What was perfect?" Logan and I asked in unison before shooting each other irritated looks. Another flash went off and groans escaped our lips when we turned to face my cousin again.
"What in the gods' names are you doing, Elijah?" I snapped, my hand snatching out to snag his fancy little phone from his grip. As I swiped through the screen, I realized that all the recent photos were of Logan and me.
Logan leaned over and I showed him the pictures, which Logan responded to with a distasteful look. "Why are you taking candid photos of us?"
Elijah grinned. "You guys are so cute but the two of you would rather take the plunge off the Empire State Building rather than willingly take a photo with each other, so I just figured to take as many shots as I wanted before the magic disappeared."
"What magic?" I scoffed. "Do you mean the magic it must've take to make a face as ugly as this one?" I cupped Logan's chin in my hand and he brushed my hand away with a swift shove of his own.
"You're cruel, Sparrow," he frowned. "Is that any way to treat your customer?"
"You did bully me for six years straight," I retorted calmly, causing him to turn red once more. "I think it's about time I slip in a little payback."
"You punched me in the face once--isn't that enough?"
"Six years of emotional torture--I ought to punch you five more times."
"Judging from your fifty rants today, I would've believed that you enjoyed having everyone hate you."
"Such false accusations!"
"Alright, both of you, get the hell out of here before you start pouring hot coffee down each other's throats," Elijah interrupted. "And I'll take that, thank you very much," he added as he plucked his phone from my hand.
It was already ten minutes past the end of my shift. I headed into the back to grab my book bag, hastily stuffing my uniform into the depths of the bag, then headed back out. Already, Elijah was setting out two coffee cups.
We waved goodbye to my cousin before grabbing our coffee and leaving the store. My bodyguard trailed behind me as close as he could without making physical contact--it seemed neither of us wanted a repeat of this morning. There was a silence between us as we boarded a bus and the silence remained as the vehicle traveled through the city.
Strange how life was sometimes. We had spent six years in school, hating each other's guts, forty-five minutes on a city bus as neutrals, and now he stood beside me as an agent working to protect my life.
Who would've thought?
It was halfway through our walk to Elijah's house after we got off the bus that Logan decided to do something that acknowledged my existence, and he did so by wrapping his arms around me, pressing our bodies against each other as a jogger dressed in dark clothing sped past us.
"Uh, Logan?" I asked when the jogger was well out of sight yet Logan's arms were still tight around me. Logan cleared his throat and let go, though the distance between us didn't shrink.
"You have to be more careful around strangers," Logan explained, though he wouldn't look me in the eye. "What if he was an attacker? You never know with these things."
"That was Jerry," I informed him. "He's been married for five years. Elijah and I were invited to his wedding."
"You never know." Logan stepped away from me and continued on forwards, running his fingers through his hair while I let out a small laugh before following him. It took another minute or two, but we reached the dark blue mailbox on Elijah's groomed lawn.
That was when Logan asked," Give me your number."
Technically, he wasn't even asking.
"Now, Logan Cross, is that any way to ask a girl for her number?" I chided. "You have to persuade her, not demand it from her."
Logan rolled his eyes, the irises growing into a dark melted gold underneath the ever growing darkness of the sky as the sun sunk deeper behind the mountains. "What would you have me do, my lady?"
I snorted, knowing Logan wouldn't 'persuade' me. "Shouldn't it be in the file you got from XYZ?"
"Oh, that's a great idea--let's put personal information such as your phone number, address, and alias into a file that could potentially be stolen," he retorted.
"With that attitude, you're not getting anyone's number," I smirked, causing him to send me a loving glare.
When it seemed as though we had reached a stalemate, Logan declared, in a grave manner, "Fine, I'll persuade you."
Nothing could've prepared me for what came next: Logan Cross sang.
"I threw a wish in the well; don't ask me, I'll never tell; I looked to you as it fell, and now you're in my way," Logan sang loudly and...rather well, I will grudgingly admit (don't you dare tell him I ever thought so). His voice was deep, his pitch unwavering, with every note perfectly in tune.
"Oy vey," I groaned, turning to see that a couple of old ladies had paused in their jogging to watch us. Logan didn't stop there--he whipped out his phone and kept on singing. It got worse: when the chorus arrived, Logan knelt on one knee and held his device out to me.
"Hey, I just met you! And this is crazy!
But here's my number, so call me maybe!"
Never before had I seen such a big smile on the king of Cross Academy's lips.
"Give him your number!" one of the old ladies shouted.
"Come on, sweetheart, give him a break!" the other lady chimed in, and together they stood watch as I entered the digits of my number into his phone, saving my contact name as Captain Park Sparrow.
Logan beamed in glory as he stood up. The old ladies across the street whooped their approval and were even clapping rather enthusiastically before resuming their jog.
"I hate you," I moaned as I rubbed my face in an effort to remove some of the redness that was flaming on my cheeks. Why was I even blushing? All of this was just completely ridiculous.
"I know," he smiled. "You said to persuade you, though."
My eyes rolled to the back of my head as the two of us made our way across the lawn and stopped once more on the porch. My face was still pink and I didn't know if I could handle anymore of this idiot's antics.
"Turn around," I said in a demanding tone. Logan arched a dark brow but otherwise did so without a word of protest. As swiftly as I could, I punched in the code for the house and tumbled in before slamming the door shut and locking it.
There wasn't a single shout or cry or groan of some sort of anger-related emotion coming from outside. Only silence. A pang of guilt shot through me, but I shoved it down. This wasn't an act of hatred or pettiness--just being around him unnerved me. Back there, when he was singing like a total fool without a care in the world, I had almost wanted to...to...
I shivered at the old thought and trudged upstairs, trying to erase everything I just felt. When I reached my room, I threw my bag underneath my black desk and collapsed on the top of my bed. That was when I heard a faint sound playing in the distance, sounding as though someone was blasting music from outside.
I got up and went over to my window, unlocking the latch that held the two panels together to glance outside. Logan was standing underneath my window, holding up his phone as Carly Rae Jepsen's voice boomed from the small speakers.
"Who are you, John Cusack?" I called out and Logan laughed
"Come on, Sparrow, you can't keep my out forever," Logan replied, and I kept down the pleasant shiver that came when he said my name. "Please let me in?"
"Or what, you'll sing Justin Bieber next?"
Logan made a face. "Don't tempt me. Or would you like me to persuade you again?"
The grin on his face made it impossible for me to want to keep him out and before I knew it, I was heading downstairs, fighting a grin that threatened to pull my lips from end to end.
This is all absolutely ridiculous, I thought. And I kind of like it.
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Sorry for the late update! I recently started school and I've been absolutely swamped with homework and work, and then I got hit with the flu just last Sunday so I didn't have much strength to write. Thank you all for waiting!
p.s. sorry that this chapter was also long--I don't know why it is, there's just SO MUCH and I don't understand why. Nothing important even happens and it makes me mad--I had to edit this a thousand times before I was happy enough to put it up.