Have You Ever Listened To The Rain At Night?

Chapter 20

Logan's eyes widened a little as he read the various posts on the internet. His research was insightful, yet not too surprising. Now he had a clear answer to his questions . . . And yet he was still helpless. He thought for a moment, then he typed a new question into his web browser's search engine. The answers that followed made his face turn red, heat was rising up in him. "Oh my G-"

"Logan?"

He closed the laptop and quickly put it aside. He didn't want his parents to know what he was doing at the moment. He didn't answer them, but they came in anyway. Logan looked at them sullenly. He was still annoyed by their last conversation. "What's up?"

"We want to apologize," his father began, sitting down on the desk chair. "You're right, we need to stop treating you like a helpless child and start seeing you as a teenager who wants to live his life without his annoying parents constantly looking over his shoulder."

"Do you both agree on that?" Logan asked, looking at his mother suspiciously. She nodded. "Yes. And, if you want, you can stay home this weekend, as long as you agree to some conditions."

Logan hesitated for a moment. Now that his parents seemed to have come to their senses, he certainly didn't want to push their patience, but he just had to ask them. "And what about . . . Camille? Can she come over?"

Logan waited until he was sure his parents were back downstairs in the living room, then he picked up his phone and typed a message: My parents are out of town for the weekend. Would you keep me company?

He waited for several minutes, impatient and a little nervous, then . . .

I would love that.

On Saturday morning, something woke him up, but he couldn't tell what it had been. Everything was quiet. He was alone, his parents had already left on Friday afternoon. When his cell phone rang for the second time - he assumed it was the first ringing that woke him up - he flinched . . . and groaned in pain. His muscles felt like they were on fire. A searing pain made its way from his shoulders down to his back, bringing tears to Logan's eyes. He tried to sit up; every movement made him grimace. 'What is happening?' he asked himself anxiously. It wasn't a relapse, because he was familiar with that kind of feeling. This was something completely different. Panic welled up in him. He was alone, and if this was something serious . . . no one could help him. Were his parents right in their worries after all? Was he really so endangered that he couldn't even survive two or three days on his own? His cell phone rang for the third time and this time he managed to turn so that he could pick it up. Without checking who was calling him, he accepted the call.

"Good morning. I hope I didn't wake you up." Camille's cheerful voice dispelled the pain from his body for a moment.

"No, it's okay. I just didn't expect you to call at this time-" As he spoke, his eyes fell on his alarm clock, and he was startled by the display. It was already ten-thirty. He had overslept. He cursed inwardly. He hadn't showered, he hadn't eaten breakfast, and he hadn't cleaned up yet . . . However, if the pain didn't get better soon, would he actually be able to do all these things?

"So, when are you coming over?" he tried to save the mood.

"That's why I'm calling."

Logan thought he heard a slightly disgruntled sound in her voice, and his mood sank even more. "You can't come?" he asked, disappointed. He straightened up, which was a mistake, because the pain returned immediately.

"I'll come, but a little later. My parents really want us to go out for brunch with my brothers. It's okay if I come over later, right?"

"Yes, of course," Logan said, trying to keep his voice sounding normal. Which wasn't easy 'cause he felt like there were thousands of needles stuck in his back.