The S.P.E.

Chapter 14

The Fig Jam kiss haunted me for a week. I didn't say anything about it to Logan, to Tina, to my parents, to anyone. I was too confused about what it meant, if anything. To Logan, it was clearly a joke. He hadn't mentioned it at all, but the cavalier way he brushed the whole thing off that night, and the way he hadn't made a move on me since, was clear as day. But for me, well I thought about it pretty much every minute of every day. I considered asking Mr. WonderWharf about it but figured since he was actually interested in me, maybe it would be best if I didn't talk about my confusing sexual attraction to my best friend, another guy. Instead I just dreamed about it, daydreamed about it, and let myself be driven to distraction because it consumed my thoughts. It wasn't until I spilled coffee on the counter as I over-filled Mort's mug that I realized how unfocused I really was.

"Oh damn! Sorry, Mort." I cleaned up the spill and stopped letting myself get so wrapped up in my own head. It worked pretty well, until that evening when Logan dropped by for dinner before karaoke night, as he usually did. When I saw him, my stomach did a somersault. I felt excited and nauseated at the same time. I knew this feeling. I only ever felt this way about one other guy before. Fortunately for me, he was unattainable so that crush was able to die a silent death like it deserved. Logan.... Logan was right there. Logan was waving me over to his table to chat. Logan was my best friend. We drank together, we sang bad karaoke together, we laughed together.

'Dammit feelings, shut up!' I told myself. All those thoughts and feelings and wishes, I balled up and stuffed into a mental hole, covered the hole with a very fat man, and then gave that mental fat man orders to never move. Ever.

Then Logan smiled at me. Fat man gone. Feelings everywhere.

~

After karaoke, after switching from Cyndi Lauper to Blondie, and after the place had cleared out, Logan and I were sitting at the bar, I decided it was now or never. I was going to say something, for real. No songs, no subtle attempts. Just honesty.

The four tequila shots and the four beers were also a huge factor in this decision.

"Logan, can I talk to you about something?" I started. He looked up from his phone and gazed straight through me, as if he had forgotten that I was there this whole time.

"Louise! I'm doing it!" He slurred to me, eyes slightly unfocused and his lopsided grin foolishly smeared on his face.

"Doing what, Logan?" I was more interested in where this was going than I was in embarrassing myself. Or maybe I was chicken. Or maybe both. "Getting that pony you always dreamed of?"

"No!" He laughed and swayed on his barstool. "I'm going to get her!"

"Her who?" My stomach dropped into my shoes, but I let it fall and pretended everything was fine.

"The girl, Louise. My girl. My perfect dream girl. After all this time I've spent wooing her and romanshing....romansering...." His drunk tongue was tied into knots.

"Romancing?" I suggested.

"YES! THAT!" His face light up with his million-dollar smile. He grabbed my shoulders, perhaps to emphasize his point, perhaps to steady himself, and practically shouted in my face, despite being only about a foot away because he was leaning off stool, "She's the one, Louise. I've known if from the first time I saw her. And tonight, I'm gonna finally ask her out." He started furiously texting his "one true love."

I watched him try to formulate the perfect proposition for a date and couldn't help but chuckle to myself a little. I also decided that I was done trying, Fig Jam kiss be damned. He was happy, and I was going to let it be. I was going to swallow my feelings and just stop hoping Logan would see me as anything other than L.B.B. When someone knew you as a little kid, I figured that's how they would always see you. To him, I was a drinking buddy, the food bringer, the little kid he saved from the fire. And that's all I would be, ever. I would have to be alright with that.