Too Bad For Her Own Good

Chapter 4

It's been a total of 8 minutes since Logan has left me against the wall, panting.

A total of 8 minutes that I have not moved, not even an inch.

We were close, our bodies were close and our heads were close and we were just close.

I'm still having trouble breathing, the way he left at the mention of his fighting has me a bit confused, but I understand it must be something I need to mind my own business about. Except, I've never been very good at that. Curiosity in this case will literally, brutally murder the cat.

I slide my back down the wall until I'm sitting on the cold hardwood floors. I push my head against my knees, curling up into a ball.

Why did this happen to me? I've always done the right thing, I'm not out partying or beating people up. My grades are spectacular, and I'm overall a pretty decently kind person, at least on the outside. So why, am I stuck with spending the rest of eternity with someone like Logan Chambers? Sure, maybe he's smart. But that doesn't out weigh all of the awful.

We are officially living together now. I need to head home and get my things from my bedroom. Or, head to my old home I should say. There better be two bedrooms. Although the couch does look pretty comfortable, so I'd be completely content sleeping on the new and unused leather if I meant I was away from the bipolar boy.

I pick up my pathetic little self, and shake my head, shaking off the pity I'm drowning myself in. I can't let this ruin my life, I can still fight this. People write petitions all the time, and while most of them may not be read, I need to keep optimism alive here. I could be like Swift in a Modest Proposal. Find some insanely clever way to get my point across, yeah?

I figure Logan is moping about upstairs, and instead of dwelling on the fact that he is actually in the same home as me, walking above me, I walk into our brand new kitchen. I take out some spaghetti from the fully stocked cabinet and put some water on to boil. Logan said that he'd do the cooking, but I don't think that started today. Maybe, we could just take back all those rules and not speak to each other, surviving by ourselves.

I hear obnoxiously loud steps running down the stairs, and look over to see Logan. He's changed into black gym shorts and a white t-shirt. He has on sneakers now, and some sort of tape on his hands. He must have had the change of clothes in his backpack.

"Where are you going?" I ask curiously as he moves towards the door. He can't leave after what just happened. Or didn't happen. And wasn't he the one who got all pissy about me walking out on him, because he seems to be doing a lot of that?

"None of your fucking business." Wow, someone's in a mood. I don;t push it, I could actually care less. I'm sure this is how he always is. Might as well get used to it.

Liar.

Goddamn conscious. Of course I don't care, why would I care? It's not like we're married or anything. Oh, wait.

I roll my eyes, and he scoffs continuing to walk to the door, swinging it open with an unnecessary force, and slamming it just as hard behind him.

Dramatic asshole.

Let him be that way, let's see where it gets him.

Absolutely nowhere.

...

Once Logan left, I'd explored the rest of the upstairs, realizing there was in fact 3 rooms, but two were equipped with baby things such as cribs and diapers. I won't be sleeping in there. It took all my will not to vomit all over the room. I've honestly never felt so sick to my stomach at the idea of having children.