The Boy That Stole My Heart

CHAPTER ELEVEN

     My fruity pebbles were soggy but it was more my fault than theirs. I kept forgetting about them in favor of stealing glances at Logan who looked much cuter than any boy had a right to, wearing a pair of my shorts and t-shirt. I had thrown our clothes in the wash when we got up, fighting the perverted urge to keep his underwear  and finally forcing myself to give up the idea. The idea that he wasn't wearing any under my shorts would suffice and if things got really bad, I knew that I could dig his goodnite out of the trashcan in my room. God I felt like a pervert. I didn't know what was wrong with me but I had a very strong feeling that I was growing obsessed with him.
     "What's your problem?" he asked me and I realized that I had traded my glances out for full on stalker stare.
     I felt my cheeks heat up and went on the offensive. "What's yours nerd?"
     "I have to head in to work boys," my mom called from the kitchen doorway. "Try not to spend all day inside okay?"
     "Yes ma'am," we both called in unison and he gave me a sly smile that made my belly feel weird.
     Logan got up and rinsed his bowl, turning back to me and asked, "so Xbox? We can order pizza or something later."
     I opened my mouth to agree but then memories of yesterday flooded my head, us eating everything in sight and pounding Dr Pepper. And then I could hear him crying, saying that he wanted to go home, could feel his wet shorts against my leg as I held him
     "Or we could go work on your arm."
     His eyes lit up. "Oh, yeah! You can teach me to throw a knuckle ball!"
     "I can't throw A knuckle ball man!" I told him with a scowl. "That's like the hardest pitch in baseball. How about we work on your slider?"
     And so that's what we did and I was more convinced than ever that he was some kind of prodigy. In less than a week he had far out paced me. He had three types of pitches under his belt where I only had one.... And a half? But the truly amazing thing was his accuracy. Over and over again, the ball would slap into my glove with that satisfying thwack.
     "Hey are you okay?, Logan called to me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
     I nodded. "Yeah. I was just thinking that I am going to quit the team."
     "What!? Why?"
     To spend more time with you stupid! "Oh, well my arm is broken so I can't play anyway. They will just have me on the bench looking stupid. Maybe I'll join back up after I heal up and get my strength back."
     He didn't look like he liked that idea very much but a car pulling into the drive saved me from having to argue about it. It turned out to be my dad and we met him inside just as he had come through the door and was squirting sanitizer into his hands. I loved him for this. He never forgot. Not once.
     "Hey squirts," he called out to us, with a tired smile. Twenty four hours on call would do that to a person.
     I stepped forward and in an unusual display of affection I wrapped my arms around him hugging him tightly. I couldn't remember the last time I had and I felt his surprise before he kept into action and took full advantage of it, lifting me into the air. For the first time in a long long time I felt like his little boy again and realized that no matter what, some things would never change.
     "I love you dad," I said to him.
     He sighed as if I had lifted a thousand pounds from his shoulders. "I love you too buddy. More than anything."