Smile

Chapter 16: Nightmare on New Year's Eve

"I can't believe you actually got Logan to do this," Will told me. We were both sitting in Logan's kitchen, along with Gabe. The others were all in the livingroom except for Logan and Cora, who'd gone downstairs to get chips and non-alcoholic drinks (my aunt's request), and Noah, who'd canceled at the last minute to spend New Year's Eve with Savannah's family—much to Amanda's dismay.

"What—have fun?" I retorted. The last two months had obviously been tough on Logan, but I refused to believe he'd lost the ability to socialize and have fun.

"No, just... have people over."

Gabe nodded in agreement. "He's been refusing to have us hanging out at his place for weeks, now. I guess the place just reminds him too much of dark times for him to actually have fun in it."

I frowned. This was only my second time at Logan's house since we'd met, but I hadn't thought much of it. I wasn't the type to ask someone if I could come over without having been invited first, so of course I hadn't noticed much other than Logan's reluctance on being alone at his own house.

"Have you been here a lot since you two met?" Will asked me.

I shook my head. "Only once." My response didn't seem to reassure Logan's friends. "It probably doesn't mean anything, though. I bet we're all worried for no reason. Try to walk a mile in his shoes before making any assumptions."

"That's where you're wrong," Gabe argued. "We have tried to walk a mile in his shoes."

"Key word: Tried," Will supplied.

"That's why we're so worried."

I didn't budge. There wasn't anything wrong with Logan: he was coping like any normal human being would in his place. In my opinion, he seemed perfectly fine for someone who'd lost so much in so little time.

Thinking about it now, perhaps people simply refused to see the darkness in the people they loved the most.

-/~\-

It was nearing ten when Logan nudged his shoulder against mine. We were all watching a movie on the old TV in the living room (except Cora, who'd gone downstairs: She obviously didn't take her chaperone role seriously) and Logan had his left arm lazily thrown over my shoulders. I took my head off his chest, tearing my eyes from the TV screen to look at him. His hair was slightly disheveled from having a cushion thrown at his head by Will earlier. As Will had so gently pointed out, we were apparently making them 'single pringles feel bad about their loneliness and should lay low on the cute stuff'. Logan had only been resting his chin on my shoulder with his hands around my waist as he stood behind me, but we figured it would be best to respect Will's wishes.

"Wanna go to my room?" Logan whispered to me, careful to keep a respectable tone. I tensed. I hadn't thought Logan would want to do anything like that, especially with all of our friends and my aunt in the house. "Just to sleep," he hurried to specify when he saw the expression on my face. I immediately relaxed. "I'm tired."

"Don't you want to stay up until midnight?" I inquired.

He shrugged. "I'm sure one of the guys will wake us up." Not thinking of any reason to say no, I agreed. We got up as silently as we could, but Tony, who'd been sitting next to us, noticed immediately.

"Woah, woah, woah! Should I get Chloe's aunt?" he interjected, stopping us from going any further than a few steps and grabbing the attention of everyone else other than Gabe, who seemed completely absorbed by the movie.

"No, we're just going to sleep," Logan told him, though everyone else was also listening. "We'll even keep the door open, Mom."

"Oh, alright then, Honey!" Tony said in a high pitched voice. Logan rolled his eyes, grabbed my hand, and led the way to his room. It was the last one down the hall. I'd never been inside his room before, so I took in as much as I could as soon as I stepped inside. The walls were a dark shade of blue—almost gray. He had a double bed covered by a black bedspread. By the wall opposite to the door was a desk on which a school book lay open. A tall bookself stood next to the desk, filled with books and framed pictures. I stepped closer until I was infront of it and took a look at the pictures. Most of them were of a little girl with dark brown hair and blue eyes, the same as Logan's. One in particular caught my eye—the little girl, Clara, who was probably two at the time, was in her pajamas. Her long, wavy hair was down and a slightly younger but much happier Logan had an arm wrapped around her shoulders in what seemed to be a tight embrace while the other held the camera. Both of them had wrinkled noses and eyes tightly shut.