Seventeen

Chapter twelve: Gasoline

**I'm a little rocket, lost in the night sky, 
Trapped in the stars, where shadows softly sigh. 
I lost the boy I used to be, a fading spark, 
Now I drink to drown the echoes in the dark. 
1, 2, 3, bottles on my table for one, 
4, 5, 6, I’ll be dead before the morning sun. 
At least I had your love, a fleeting embrace, 
You loved me through my sins, in this desolate space. 
Forgot the girl I used to be, 
And soared through galaxies, wild and free. 
We ran on gasoline, igniting our dreams, 
Now our hearts are fractured, bursting at the seams.**

**The Boy I Used to Be, Flower Child**

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CHAPTER TWELVE

“What makes you think I want you, Logan? Just so you know, you aren’t as amazing as you think you are.” I found myself playing this tired game with him again, a familiar dance of sarcasm and bravado. This is the kind of thing girls like me do—girls destined to end up alone, clutching their broken dreams.

“You sure I’m not that amazing? Trust me, you’ll change your mind after what I show you.” His confidence was both infuriating and oddly charming.

Trust him? I couldn’t trust Logan with anything. Hell, I didn’t even trust myself. He tapped the screen of his phone, a proud grin stretching across his face. “Check this out, babe.”

I stared at the phone, struggling to decipher the significance of the flashing screen. It was a screenshot of the video I uploaded to YouTube, the one I’d thought was a desperate plea for validation. Underneath it, the words “This is amazing. Everybody should check it out” mocked me. My heart sank as I noticed the twelve views, a single dislike, and zero likes. This wasn’t a celebration; it was a reminder of my failures, deflating me like a balloon low on helium.

“Why are you showing me this? I already know I suck; no need to remind me.” The weight of my insecurities pressed down on me.

“Wait.” He pressed the screen again, this time playing my video. Holy shit! Over ten thousand views! And about eight hundred likes! Am I dreaming? My videos never exceeded a hundred views; this was like stumbling into a fairy tale.

“Shit.” That’s all I could manage, my voice barely a whisper amidst the whirlwind of emotions. “Thi… wow… am…”

“You don’t need to thank me,” Logan said, basking in his sense of victory. “I was just doing a favor for a friend.”

“Friend?” The word felt foreign between us. Were we really friends, or just two souls navigating the same stormy sea?

“We can be more if you like,” he added, his gaze locking onto mine, sending my heart racing.

“Thanks for making people watch my video,” I said, choosing to ignore his last comment. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. Honestly.”

“You’re welcome, Walker. But you owe me for this.”

I rolled my eyes, annoyance bubbling to the surface. “Un-freaking-believable! Did I ever ask you to use your popularity to make people notice me? Remind me if I did because I don’t remember shit.”

He straightened, the playful smile fading from his face. “Calm down, woman. I was just kidding. I didn’t know I was going to suffer the wrath of your PMS.”

“It’s more of the I Hate Logan Wilson Syndrome, but you were close enough.”

“About that—”

“Wilson!” A chubby lady in an apron stormed over, her face flushed with anger. “If you don’t serve customers right now, you’re fired!”

Logan simply smiled at her, unbothered. “You can’t fire me. I’m not even an employee here.”