"Logan," a firm voice spoke over me. "Wake up."
I groaned and squeezed my eyes shut. Except for the empty cavern my stomach impersonated and my bladder was full to burst, my entire body screamed for sleep, my left arm tingled, and I curled under my blanket. "Five more minutes. Or maybe fifty."
Mom's voice filled with insistence, "Logan Alexander Hightower, you get up right now!"
A sharp and cold contact struck my face. I tore my eyes open and jolted up to a seated position. A trickling sensation slid down the sides of my face and neck. A blurry version of my surroundings did nothing for my disorientation until Mom came into focus. She stood over me with an object in her hands. I ran my palms over my wet face and blinked open my eyes. "Did you throw water on me?"
I blinked again. Sure enough, Mom stood over me with an empty cup. "I was desperate." She shoved my feet off the living room sofa, not my bed, and sat down. "You wouldn't wake up."
"What happened?" I palmed the sofa myself up to catch my bearings. Living room. I slept on the sofa. Other than tired with a dull ache in my left arm, physically I was refreshed.
Mom checked her watch. "You've been out of it for almost fifteen hours."
I sat up straighter. Did she say fifteen hours? No wonder I had to piss like a racehorse. "The last thing I remember was getting my IVs taken out." I rubbed the bandage wrapped around my tender left arm.
Technically, I remembered everything that led up to that moment. In particular, the bittersweet closeness with Ellie. The whole day was bittersweet, and we ended with ambiguity. She was soft and cuddly before her nightmare ripped away our comfort. I rubbed the back of my neck. At one point, I think I tried to spoon her?
Mom smirked at me and rested one elbow on the back of the sofa. "You don't remember passing out and falling on top of Ellie?"
I did what!? Fuck, did I hurt her? I was one of the biggest guys on the team, by height and weight. My mouth dropped and I stared at Mom. "I fell on her? Is she okay? Did I squish her?" Fuck, I weighed at least a hundred pounds more than her.
Her shoulders lifted but the smirk stayed. "She seemed fine. Even helped me haul your butt in here."
Haul my butt? Ellie was stronger than she looked. "That's embarrassing." I rubbed my eyes and rested my forearms on my thighs.
"I think she'll forgive you." Mom smiled, her eyes flashing like she held back insider information, and she twitched in her seat. "You really don't remember?"
I rolled my eyes at her teasing. "Obviously not."
"She brought you home yesterday," she said. "Together we lugged you to the sofa, where she tucked a blanket around you. It was very sweet. She looked pretty tired and left shortly afterward."
I looked down at my hands. Ellie took care of me? That was a little heart-warming. And by a little, I was really fucking flattered.
Her experience explained why she had such high walls, and why she hated football players, but I had myself to blame for why she wanted nothing to do with me. What she'd been through forced my thoughts in a direction that I hadn't thought about in a long time: someone else's feelings.
"You were pretty dead to the world, kiddo." Mom's voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Your phone has been ringing all morning."
"Probably the guys giving me a hard time about passing out." I would've done the same if anyone else had hit the floor. A quick scan through my texts showed that almost every guy met Ellie yesterday and found her attractive and charming. Their evidence was written in explicit words recalling their impressions of 'Nurse Elle,' and worse, what they wanted to do with 'the trifecta.'
Fucking imbeciles. I clenched my phone. This time, I wasn't going to sit back, trust the guys used better judgment, and assume they got the message. Annoyance and anger coiled in my stomach and flushed my skin hot. Bryce blatantly ignored me again. He said he'd shut everything down after today, but he wouldn't give the game a rest without one more shot at Ellie.
As football players, we usually stuck together. We were treated differently than other kids at school, better with an elevated social status, and some protection came along with that. With my 6-5 height and muscular frame, I hadn't been in a physical fight in years. Faculty and teachers turned blind eyes to misconduct issues and offered additional tutoring if any of the guys needed it. But the preferential treatment didn't excuse the whole game bullshit.
Despite being my friends, I was done with trusting the guys to do the right thing while they did the wrong thing behind my back. I was their captain, but they didn't respect me. And it was about damned time I did something to change that.
The lone exception was Josh, and I hated that he was right.
Josh: Stop wasting time.
He was right. I wasted a lot of time and was running out of chances. Ellie had three more events, only one of which I was also at. "Next time," I mumbled and shut off my phone. The next time I saw her, I was taking my shot. And whatever happened after was entirely up to her.
I wasn't a guy who got nervous, but an uncomfortable restlessness chewed inside me while I drove down to Seaside High. My heart pounded at the idea I saw Ellie again. I was so distracted with rehearsing what I wanted to say that I was surprised I didn't get in an accident. Today's volunteer event could've been a dog competition for all I cared. I was here for one reason: Ellie. Today was our last overlapping event, my last shot. And I wasn't going to waste it.
All week, the same frenetic impatience coursed through me. I channeled it into football, pounded my team hard during practice to the point Coach asked if I needed an herbal tea break, and last night's win at Soquel was a rush. I tore up the turf like a man possessed, and I ended the game with four touchdown passes and rushed in another two. Might've been overkill, and I crashed within ten minutes of arriving home, but the satisfaction against this weird motivation to prove myself was worth the effort. It resurfaced when I thought about Ellie because I sure as fuck thought about that girl, from wondering how her week went to if she had any more nightmares. The small glimpse she showed me and what Mase said were awful. What I wanted to say to her hung obsessively in my mind all week.
Courtesy of Mom's help, I tucked Ellie's gifts under my elbow and followed the book fair signs to the Spartans' football stadium. We played three games here, but today the football field didn't look like one or a book fair but more like a neighborhood-created carnival with booths, animals, and tents. I wrinkled my nose at more animal smells and took inventory. Where would a volunteer check-in be? A bunch of large tents clustered together at one end. I didn't see any sign of Ellie, but those tents were the best place to ask.
I stepped into the closest one and came to an abrupt stop. My stomach clenched as if I braced for a punch at the girl who sorted through stacks of books. Bent over, she hummed to herself, a habit I'd teased her about. She was someone I had been looking for, who I needed to talk to, and who I owed an apology to, but she wasn't the girl I was here to see. "Chloe."
My heart stopped for one beat. Her reddish-blonde hair was longer, but pale skin, averted eyes, and fingers wrapped around books in a loving embrace were the same. Her movements stilled and her eyes widened when they met mine. "Logan," she whispered and recoiled. Her shoulder curled in, and she dropped her chin.
"Physically and emotionally, I was deceived and wrecked. My body and my character were assaulted."
I chewed on Ellie's words until I gave myself a headache but reached the assumption that she must have been bullied into silence. Physically violating her was wrong and evil in itself, but equally lasting damage could have been the guy tried to ruin her reputation, so she didn't out him.
With no stretch of my imagination, Ellie's school probably reacted to rumors the same horrible way mine had treated Chloe. Football ruled the scene at Santa Cruz, and the quarterback had a huge influence. Jake himself flexed it as a bully, although now I realized how little I knew of the whole picture.
What little Ellie had shared - in a screamed attempt to push me away - tightened my chest and boiled my blood, but my stomach filled with guilt for Chloe. On the surface, Ellie's situation sounded very close to Chloe's, and that similarity hit me hard. Now, more than ever, I was determined to apologize to Chloe, especially after what Ellie shared a few days ago.
I approached her like a frightened animal, slow and cautious. She gathered a large stack of books in her arms, clutching it to her stomach like a shield. My chest ached. She had no reason to be afraid of me. I reached to help her when a familiar, angry voice spoke up behind me.
"Fuck off, Hightower."
Right, him.
I kinda forgot about him.
I sighed at Harrison in all his angry glory. One inch shorter, trademark angry scowl, and clenched fists were front and center. The only effect his presence had on me was an urge that I rolled my eyes. I shouldn't have been surprised that he was here with Chloe, and I supposed this was some protection mode. At least he was sober? I shifted my eyes between them for a vibe check. Brody said they went on a date. Ten inches of space, Jake's fists, and Chloe's tense expression didn't read a happy new couple, but who was I to judge?
"Chloe, is this asshole bothering you?" Jake's fists clenched the shirt fabric near my shoulders. Fuck, if he only knew which girl I was here to see. Body dismemberment logistics later, Hightower. He leaned in until his face was inches from mine and narrowed his eyes at me. His breath was short and sharp as he sneered. "Or are you here for payback, bitch-boy?"
I blinked. Somehow, 'I'm here to see your sister' didn't seem like the best choice of words in this particular situation. Instead, I looked down at his white-knuckled fists. "Relax, Jake. Chloe used to go to my school. I'm one of the event volunteers and need to talk to her about what she needs."
That sounded plausible, despite Chloe's equally skeptical and curious look at me.
"What she needs," he said when she put down her books and circled her hand around his wrist. "Is for you to -"
"It's okay, Jacob. Logan is on the volunteer name sheet." She cleared her throat. "And, ahem, an old friend."
Interesting choice of words. Jake bought them, which was all that mattered. His contorted expression relaxed, his nostrils twitched, and he released me with a shove back. I regained my footing, and he gave me one more glare. After a silent nod from Chloe, he backed off. Maybe she was good for his temper, but this was an issue to sort out another day. If Ellie wanted nothing to do with me, then there was no point smoothing anything out with Jake.
I didn't care to dwell any minute longer on whatever was or wasn't between Jake and Chloe. Guilt was the only feeling that resurfaced from seeing her. Her earlier hesitation returned in both her uneasy voice and averted eyes. "Why are you here, Logan?"
"Friends, huh?" I crossed my arms over my chest and smiled at her previous choice of words. I couldn't hold back the annoyance that slipped into my voice when I asked, "Is that what we are? You'd have to acknowledge my existence for us to be friends, Chloe."
"I don't..." Chloe's eyes darted around like she expected someone other than Harrison's death glare from ten feet away to watch us. "I can't be seen talking to you."
"Is this about him?" I cocked a thumb at Harrison.
Chloe's eyes flipped in Jake's direction, but she only offered a shaky smile. "Jacob? No, we're not... Oh... I don't know." She fumbled through her words and clutched the books tighter.
I offered her a smile and folded my arms. "You don't owe me any explanation, especially when it comes to Harrison. I want you to be happy, Chloe. And if he's that for you, I'm glad you have a new start. You deserve it."
Her voice was quiet as her eyes looked at the ground between us. "Why are you here?"
"I only want two things, Chloe." I tried to sound as kind as possible to ease her discomfort, failing miserably a the panic rising beneath her lashes. "One, I hope you're happy. And two, I owe you an apology."
"I really can't talk now." Her voice shook, and her eyes darted to the exit door in an obvious hint that she wanted me to leave. "I-I can't have any drama happen today. This event is important to me."
I wasn't the one she should worry about here. "I understand." I nodded and left her and Jake to whatever they were. Chloe's relationship status wasn't my business anymore. I only wanted to say I'm sorry because apologizing is the right thing to do.
"I didn't move," her quiet voice spoke up behind me. "Stop by this week if you're serious about an apology. Alone, please."
"Will do," I promised. The tension in my shoulders relaxed. "Take care, Chloe."
"Oh, and Logan?" Her lips finally curled up into a smile. "Since you are a volunteer, you're taking tickets at the kissing booth. It's only for an hour, two girls and Caleb. But one of the girls is Jake's sister, so he might not be the best candidate for me to ask."
Before she offered any details, I didn't need further persuasion if helping meant a fast track to be around Ellie again. "Sure. Just keep Mr. Fists of Fury over here the whole time." I pointed at Jake. His expression hadn't changed, but since my internal organs and face were still in their original condition, he hadn't heard our conversation.
"Deal." She reached into her white apron and stuffed an envelope into my hands. "Put the tickets in here. You can throw them away before you leave, but everyone needs a ticket. Only one kiss per person. No exceptions, and keep the peace."
"Keep the peace," I mumbled back. She needed a bouncer. I wasn't sure how I felt about Ellie kissing other guys, charity or not, and I couldn't believe Jake was okay with it. The kissing booth was easy to find. A makeshift platform stage was set up near one of the goalposts, with three benches in the middle and on each side. A privacy curtain hung between each bench area, and sappy red hearts hung everywhere under a giant sign saying - what else - 'Kissing Booth.' A small table and stairs were on the side of the stage, where already a line had formed.
In a flash of blonde hair with dark blue and blueish-green streaks, Harper sat on the bench closest to the stairs. Caleb stood near the center bench. I returned his wave but froze at a familiar, soft laugh and the back of a dark brown head leaning forwards next to Harper.
Ellie. With Harper glued to her elbow.
Ellie's pulled-back hair showed her beautiful face. Her cheeks rounded, and her head tipped back with a laugh. She glowed, absolutely glowed, under the sunlight. From a distance, her eyes were shining at whatever Harper said. Dressed in red again, Ellie's sweater matched the stage.
An uncharacteristically fast beat pounded in my chest, my palms warmed and became damp, and my breathing hitched the closer I approached. I wasn't sure why I was nervous, why this girl got under my skin and wedged into my feelings, but if I had another chance, I wasn't going to fuck things up this time.
Twenty steps out, my phone buzzed in my pocket with a text message and snapped me out of my thoughts.
Bryce: Here.
I blinked down at my phone. Why the fuck was he here? When I mentioned I had a book drive at Seaside today, Bryce was the last guy I expected. Reading and Bryce went together like Mexican food and skinny jeans. Babysitting him was not on my agenda, but one more glance at Ellie and Harper's arm around her shoulders was enough motivation.
Me: At the kissing booth.
Me: Need you to do me a favor.
One diversion for Harper, coming up.
Bryce: Kissing booth?
Bryce: So down for that.
I rolled my eyes at the zero effort needed to convince Bryce to get here. The kissing booth line was surprisingly long, and my eyes narrowed. There were a lot of guys, and a pit burned in my stomach at any of them kissing Ellie. Clusters of girls scattered among the guys, and I chuckled at the idea of Bryce standing with a hundred tickets in hand.
There was no way I'd let him kiss Ellie, but I'd pay good money to see him kiss Harper.
Wait a minute.
That's it. You're a genius, Hightower.
I eyed the line again. A soon-to-be broke genius was still a genius. Face-punching strangers kissing Ellie wouldn't win me any points. Strangers kissing Ellie... My mouth curled up at the corners at my wicked idea. I set Chloe's envelope on the table and tucked Ellie's presents under. I'd give them to her later. Priority was the first guy in line. He was a pretty well-built, decent-looking guy, and if I remembered correctly, Seaside's tight end.
"Hey, bro." He handed me a ticket. "One of the girls, please. I'm not kissing Caleb."
"Blonde okay?" I curled my palm around his ticket. He nodded, so I waved him up to the stage. As he walked up, I made sure to add, "Only one kiss, and ask for Harper."
The guy behind him heard my conversation with the first guy. He also must've seen Ellie since he said, "Brunette," and handed me a ticket. I eyed him over. He was pretty good-looking too. That's a no for me. I pulled out my wallet. This could get pricey but was worth it. "How about I give you a dollar, and you pretend to like blondes for one kiss?" I held up a George Washington.
He leaned back and shifted his eyes from my outstretched dollar to my face. Yeah, I was serious and shook the dollar at him. He shrugged and accepted my offer. "Kiss is a kiss."
"Exactly." I smiled widely, then pointed up at the steps for the stage. "Next."