Weekend Friend

13.

LOGAN AND I have never been good at staying mad at each other. I suppose this has at least something to do with the fact that we were each other's main playmate as children, and being mad for an extended period of time wasn't conducive to building forts or beating the next level on the latest Super Mario Wii game.

In those days, it was usually Logan who ended whatever stalemate we were in—even when it was my fault. He wouldn't necessarily forgive me, but he'd find a way to break the ice because he was a problem-solver. He didn't stew in resentment or prioritise his pride the way I would—the way I still do, even when it's justified. But because I like to believe I learn from my mistakes, I'm the one who ends our present day stalemate.

The morning after our conversation on the beach, I borrow Mom's car and drive us to our favourite coffee shop, which is actually an aquamarine food truck on the beach. I didn't ask Logan if he wanted to come—I simply told him that he was coming. A part of me had worried he'd tell me to fuck off, but Logan's only nonnegotiable was controlling the aux cord. I could live with that.

The food truck is busier than usual, so Logan goes to stake out a picnic table while I join the queue to order. In addition to specialty coffees, the food truck offers a variety of breakfast sandwiches. I come away with two bagel sandwiches with extra avocado and two iced lattes with oat milk. We're twins, after all.

"No need to Venmo me," I say as I set the food down on the picnic table.

"Buying my forgiveness, are we?" Logan cocks a brow as he methodically peels the tinfoil away from his food.

"Am I not allowed to buy my brother breakfast?" I counter, sitting down across from him. The sunbathed bench warms the backs of my thighs.

"Not after I ditched your sorry ass on the beach last night." Logan takes a large bite.

I grimace as I peel away the tinfoil on my own bagel. The scent of freshly baked bread makes my mouth water. "I kind of deserved it."

"Not really," Logan mumbles through a mouthful before swallowing and using the back of his hand to wipe away some crumbs. "You're still hurting. I see that now."

I sit up a little straighter, hoping good posture can somehow mask my heartache. "Is this some kind of trap? Because it sounds like you're backtracking on pretty much everything you said last night."

Logan sets what remains of his bagel onto the open tinfoil in front of him and sighs. "I meant what I said, Jenny. I'm pissed that I've been kept in the dark by two of the most important people in my life. Hell, I'm sure both Mom and Dad know exactly what's going on." He pauses, twirling the paper straw of his coffee. "But my delivery could've been better. I shouldn't be lecturing you on how to handle your breakup. That's not fair."

As much as I want to bite into my bagel, I hold off so I can attempt to patch things over with Logan.

"I'm sorry for...keeping you in the dark," I bite out the words, locking a curl behind my ear. "But I wish I could just move on without having to constantly confront how my relationship with him also impacts your relationship with him. You're best friends, and I respect that. That's why I think it's important not to ask you to pick sides."

"Do you think that I would?"

It takes all of my self restraint not to scoff. Truth is, I don't don't think he would pick sides—I know in my bones that he would. I also know that he'd pick me. Part of me relishes in that knowledge, but I'm all too aware of how Logan operates. He wouldn't be picking me solely because I'm the one who's been wronged, but because I'm his sister. I'm his blood. And while there's nothing fundamentally wrong with siding with family, not in the slightest, I fear that he'd come to resent me for being the reason why he'd have a Ryley-shaped hole in his life.