Love in a Small Town

I remember that he was handsome; handsome in the most extraordinary way. His nose hooked at the end, and his stubble made him look older than he was. I remember how I thought about the fact that other people probably didn't find him as handsome as I did. I watched him in class as he gave his oral presentation, all the time thinking about how much I already loved him. Logan Matthews knew I existed, but he wouldn't dare talk to me, not a chance. It's not the thrill of the chase that makes me crave the air he breathes. It's not his big ears that fit his face just right. It's the way he holds himself, the way he replies to questions, the way he laughs when he's with his friends. Someone wise once said, "If you find the one, hold him tight and never let him go." I want to let him go, but I can't, not in betrayal of that wise man. That wise man was my father, who passed away four years ago. This is not a love story, don't get yourself caught up.

Logan buzzed his beautiful black hair the summer after ninth grade. When he came back to school, I couldn't help but stare at him. I'm not usually the romantic type, but i can't tell you how many times I imagined running my fingers through that gorgeous black hair of his. When I said he wouldn't talk to me, I meant because I'm number one in my class of five hundred people. I've never been so head over heels for someone, and he won't even talk to me. Ninth grade was the hardest, of all of my high school years, but I still graduated second in my class, and then moved up to first in tenth grade. I would talk to him first, I'm not a shy person most of the time, but I had to focus on my schoolwork and becoming first. I'm a very competitive person, in case you hadn't noticed.

The first time we spoke was on a Wednesday, in tenth grade. I remember because I visit my grandmother in a nursing home, she has Alzheimer's. When my grandmother was diagnosed, I was in ninth grade, and she's been in there ever since. I've been to visit her every Wednesday from then. The Wednesday we spoke, I almost ran right into him in the nursing home. I realized I didn't want to be in a relationship with him, because I didn't want to get hurt, but I was completely and utterly in love with Logan Samuel Matthews. I was walking up to the check-in counter and I stepped on the back of his foot.

"Oh, I'm so sorry-" I started, but when I looked up I was astounded. We were standing so close I could smell his cologne, which smelled of sweet summertime. I looked up into his eyes, which were an emerald green, a strange combination with his jet black hair. "Hi..." He spoke first. His voice was low, and soothing, like the kind you hear in a commercial trying to sell mens hair gel. I laughed at my thoughts and he turned away.

"Wait, hey, I'm Cassie." I cannot believe how awkward I am, I thought to myself. He turned around, a little too slowly.

"I know who you are." Well that came as a surprise. He smiled nonchalantly and walked up to the check-in counter because it was his turn. "Lisa Mae, I am her grandson. My name is Logan Matthews?" The lady behind the desk, who was wearing scrubs with an irrationally busy print on them, clicked a few buttons on the keyboard and smiled. "Room 507, she's been expecting you." I tried to sort my thoughts quickly, before he turned around, but when he turned and his eyes pierced mine, seemingly looking straight into my soul, my mind went blank.

"I'll see you later?" He walked backwards away from me and I had the urge to follow him, but I had to see my grandmother. I replied, "Yeah, um, see you later." He smiled, but it was not the same smile that he has with his friends. It was more passionate, more wistful. His eyes lit up and he turned and walked through a door. That was the first time I spoke to Logan Matthews, and it sure as hell would not be the last.

I spent the rest of my Wednesday afternoon with Grandma Stacey, and when I got home I pulled out my school books. If Logan and I were going to hang out, I needed to go ahead and start studying for future endeavours.

He called me two days later, and I didn't know how he got my phone number, but I didn't ask. We talked on the phone for close to an hour, then he said he had to study, which is understandable. He told me about his dad, who is a raging alcoholic, his mom, who takes beatings from his alcoholic dad, and his little brother, who was living with his grandmother until she became more immobile. He told me that he enjoyed reading, and his favorite book was Eleanor and Park, a teen romance book. I told him I hadn't read it. He told me he wished that he could have a long, lasting relationship, and how he would love to hang out with me sometime soon. I told him about my mom, who had cancer but is now in remission, about my dad, who passed away four years ago in a car crash, in which he replied, "I know, I went to his funeral." I was thankful for that, but almost the entire town went to my father's funeral. He was a popular man who was taken too soon by a drunk driver. I told him about how I didn't have any siblings, and I wished I did. He said sometimes he and his brother fight, but they are really close. I told him my favorite book series was the Divergent series, and he said he hadn't read them. I told him that I would read Eleanor and Park if he would read Divergent. He agreed. I told him I would hang out with him soon.