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Chapter 8: Christmas Decorating

So, turns out I'm really not good at keeping a schedule... I'm also a big sucker for "cliché-ing" stuff, as demonstrated in this chapter.
I hope you enjoy anyway! :)
-/~\-
"So, umm... I hope you don't mind, but I asked one of your friends advice about our date," Logan admitted as he backed his truck out of my driveway. It was 5:30PM, the exact time Logan had said he'd pick me up. I was a bit surprised with the time, but decided against questioning him.

I fought back an eyeroll at his confession. "Yeah, I know. Thomas told me." I still couldn't believe Thomas. And he called himself one of my best friends? Best friends were supposed to have each other's backs!

"Did he tell you what he told me you liked to do?" Logan asked after a moment, and this time, I couldn't resist the eyeroll.

"Christmas decorating," I mumbled, gazing out the window. My friends could be so embarrassing!

Logan gave a small chuckle. "I figured he was joking, but then again my house is still bare of anything Christmas-related." I looked at him, praying that he was only demonstrating his horrible sense of humour. "So, are you up for it? It'd be way more fun decorating with you, and I promise I'll take you out for dinner afterwards."

My eyes narrowed. "Where are we going to eat?"

His eyes found mine for a split second before going back to the road. I knew many things about Logan, but one information I wasn't stalkerish enough to have was where he lived. "Wherever you want."

"McDonald's it is," I grinned.

"And you'll help me decorating?"

"And I'll help you decorating," I nodded as he made a turn into a driveway in a neighbourhood not so far from mine. The house wasn't big, but it wasn't small either. It wasn't exactly a house that would catch your attention, but then again, I would've been surprised to find out Logan's father could afford a big house, since his daughter had just died from cancer and his wife had passed away. Surely they couldn't have a lot of money.

Logan shut down the engine and got out, then turned to me. "Then you have yourself a deal, Mallark." He shut his door, and I opened mine, getting out just before Logan reached me. He frowned. "I could've opened the door for you, you know."

"Very nice of you," I aknowledged, and Logan caught me glancing at his house again.

He sighed. "It isn't much, but we just finished paying for Clara's treatments, so it's all we can afford for now. Anyway, I'm going to move out soon, and my dad is planning to find himself a place afterwards, so finding ourselves a new house isn't really necessary right now."

"You're really planning to move away after high school?" I asked. I hadn't thought he'd been serious about it.

He nodded. "This place isn't for me. Plus," he nudged me before opening the front door. "We made plans to move together, didn't we?"

"Right," I muttered, scanning my surroundings. The front door opened to a hall, the walls orned with pictures. It started with only the parents; the first picture seemed to have been taken at their wedding—the woman had blond hair and Logan's blue eyes, and the man had dark brown hair and eyes. The next picture showed the new parents with a baby I could only assume was Oliver, Logan's older brother. The following pictures showed Oliver in all of his brown hair and blue eyes glory—the perfect mixture of his parents' best physical features. Logan was pretty much a younger version of his brother, as shown in the pictures where the two young boys played together. A few pictures later came a little girl with the same features as her brothers, but the woman seemed to have disappeared. At the end of the hall, there was a recent-looking picture of Logan, Oliver and their father, their eyes holding a matching set of pain, anger and loss. It was a very bittersweet timeline.

"Don't mind the pictures," Logan spoke up, walking through the hall without glancing at the walls. I followed him until we reached the livingroom, which contained an old-looking brown couch, a lamp, and an old TV. The room itself was badly lit, the only natural light coming from a small window looking out onto the neighbors' house. Logan continued forward and reached up to a ladder I hadn't seen attached to the ceiling. As Logan unfolded it, I noticed it led to a trapdoor. An attic, most likely.

"So, where are you planning to move after high school?" I asked Logan as he started climbing the ladder wordlessly.

"Not sure yet," he called as he reached the top and looked down at me. "Stay down, I'll give you the boxes. It'll be safer." He disappeared for a few seconds, then came back into view and lowered a box as much as he could. I climbed two steps, took the box from him, went back down and placed it on the floor, by the back of the couch. "Have you thought about universities you want to apply to?"

One word came to my mind: Yale. It was more than 4 700 km away from here and they had a great psychology program. It would be perfect.

"Yeah, but... I don't know if I'd be qualified," I told Logan, not set on telling him about my dream yet. I wasn't that confident.

"What do you want to study in?"

"Psychology," was my immediate answer.

"And are those universities that you may or may not be qualified for far away from here?"

"Yes."

Logan's face came back into view and I was surprised to find him grinning. "Then I shall encourage you to apply to whatever school you've got your mind set on." He handed me a fourth box before climbing down the ladder. However, as he turned to face me, his foot missed the last step. He staggered back, and I found my face an inch away from his. I inhaled sharply, and before I could register what was happening, we were kissing. How cliché, was the first thing that came to my mind and Logan's lips found mine. A second later, I decided that I didn't care.

As I'd found myself liking Logan more and more over the past few years, my mind had found a new hobby in forming scenarios that mostly ended with us kissing. I'd imagined it happening more than a hundred different ways, but never could I have imagined the sensation of actually kissing him. Forget the butterflies—freaking eagles were flying in my stomach. My mind went blank, and it was only when Logan pulled away several seconds later that I realized what had just happened.

I'd kissed Logan.

Logan had kissed me.

We had kissed!

A small smile was forming on Logan's face as he scratched the back of his neck. "I-I'm sorry. Maybe that was a bit too forward."

"Personally, I think that was just forward enough," I said, then gulped. Maybe that had been a bit too forward.

Logan chuckled. "Well, this may not be the best time or the best circumstances, but... Will you be my girlfriend?"

At that moment, I felt like the eagles had taken over my entire body. I felt like I was flying.

I didn't know how to fly, but I found myself thinking it was easy. I didn't know it back then, but the landing wasn't nearly as great.

-/~\-

I'd say I'll be back next week with a new update, but I really don't know. I'll do my best.
- ProfessionalDork