Smile

Chapter 3: Confessions

"Alright, so confession time," I announced, taking the pizza out of the freezer. "I'm not that much of a cook."

Logan chuckled softly. "Oh, damn it. I guess I'd better go home, then," he said sarcastically, pretending to get up from his seat at the counter before sitting back down. I tried my best to hide my surprise. I'd never thought I'd hear Logan McCloud joke around. Don't get me wrong, it's not that he looked like a very serious or boring kind of guy. It was just that I'd thought maybe his sister's death had ruined his happy, joking around side - especially today. I guess I was wrong. "Who does the cooking around here if you don't?"

"Well, since my brother hasn't been allowed in the kitchen since he was thirteen when he almost burned the house down, my dad usually does. On the nights he isn't home, we just order take out or, if she knows in advance that my dad will be stuck at work 'till late, our grandmother cooks us meals we can just heat up," I explained, putting the pizza in the oven.

"What about your mom?"

"She and my dad divorced when I was, like, five." Logan had told me about his past. The least I could do was return the favor. "She now lives all the way across town with her new husband. I go see her every once in a while, but my brother hates her guts."

He frowned, and only then did it occur to me that maybe that last comment had been out of place. After all, Logan's mother wasn't even alive.

But, "Why does he hate her guts?" was the only question he asked, and he didn't seem to be sad. Well, not more than usual, that is. I took that as a good sign.

"I think he hates what she did more than her as a person, actually, but it's because she left us he was only four and I five, and doesn't even bother to call anymore. The only reason she knows about anything going on with our lives right now is because I visit her about twice a month, but I'm the one always making the first step," I explained. "And the few other ones after that as well," I added as an afterthought.

"I smell food!" Parker, my brother, announced loudly as he stepped into the kitchen. His gaze then landed on Logan and he stopped dead in his track. "Oh, I didn't know you were having someone over," he told me, pushing his dark-rimmed glasses up his nose.

"That's because I didn't tell you."

The sixteen years old dork ignored my response and turned back to Logan, who was watching the scene unfold with an amused expression on his face. "Hello, there. I'm Parker. I'm sixteen, single, straight, and allergic to feathers," he said casually (well, as casually as Parker could be) and held out his hand for Logan to shake. I resisted the urge to slap my forehead. Logan, this is my brother. I give you the permission to run out of the house and never come back.

To my surprise, Logan shook Parker's hand, seeming completely unfazed by my brother's weirdness. "I'm Logan, seventeen, single, straight, and my sister just died," he said bluntly, which threw me off a bit. I could tell Logan wasn't looking for pity. I think he was doing quite the opposite by making his sister's death seem as blunt as possible. Although, that hadn't been his strategy with me... Perhaps Logan McCloud would simply have to remain a mystery to me, after all.

Parker huffed. "Morbid," he stated before he looked at me. "I'm going back to doing my homework. Call me when pizza's ready; I'll bring some to my room," he ordered, walking out of the kitchen before I could respond.

When we heard Parker's bedroom's door close, Logan pointed in the direction my brother had just gone. "Is he always like that?"

I scrunched up my nose and nodded. "Unfortunately, the answer to that question is yes."

-/-\-

"Alright, well, thanks for dinner," Logan told me after putting his shoes on. "Even though I barely ate anything," he added, chuckling. Turns out he wasn't hungry. I'd forced him to eat a small smile, though. I had a feeling he wouldn't eat at all tonight, otherwise. "And also, thank you for getting my mind off of my problems for a while. It's really appreciated."