Something Else Entirely

44 - Piers, planes, pizza, tents, books, kiwifruit, boomerangs and berries.

"Hi, Jet."

Logan answered on the first ring, like she had been waiting with her phone in her hands just on the off chance I would call. I loved her even more for it.

"Hey." Awkward silence.

"How's Sade?" she asked carefully, still not knowing because I stupidly hadn't called or messaged to tell her until now.

"She's good. Already laughing and bossing me around as usual," I joked and Logan chuckled on the other end of the phone, and I swear my heart skipped a few beats. "The twins are going to be okay, too. They're tiny and they'll have to be in the hospital for at least a month or two, but the doctors are saying they'll be just fine."

I could hear her sigh of relief through the speaker. "That's such good news. I'm so relieved for you all, Jet."

"Mum wants to know when you're coming by?"

God, I'm a coward. Using my mother as an excuse to see my girlfriend because I'm scared she won't forgive me for yelling at her last night.

But I could hear Logan's smile in her answer, glad that Mum was asking after her and probably also because she finally heard me calling her by her true name. "I don't want to intrude on your family, Jet."

"You would never be intruding on our family, Logan," I said, intentionally including her in that coveted group. She didn't reply, so I continued my quest of apology. "Are you doing anything now?"

"Uh . . . no, I'm not doing anything," she answered. "I'm just reading."

"Can I come by your house? I'd really like to see you."

"You could," she chuckled sweetly, and my heart swelled. "But that would be counterintuitive because I'm not there." Well, where are you then? "I'm at your house."

I grinned at myself, imagining Logan leaning up against my bedroom door on our front porch, her camera bag beside her and a book in her hands, waiting for me to get home and feeling a small wave of excitement every time she heard a diesel engine from a truck roll by our street, hoping it was me.

Logan loves me.

"Don't move. I'll be there soon," I said hurriedly, turning the key in the lock and starting my car, the loud engine echoing in the hospital parking structure. I hung up just as she started to protest against me coming home, and pulled up to my house twenty minutes later, eagerly running up the front steps of our garden, getting spiked by one of the cacti on the way because I wasn't focussing on anything but Logan standing on the porch in my favourite tie-dye dress, watching me with wide eyes and a hidden smile.

I love Logan.

I stopped one step below her, levelling myself to her height so I was looking straight into her eyes, which were already brimming with tears.

"Logan, I love you, and I am so sorry for everything that happened last night," I blurted without thinking to pace my love-fuelled word vomit to ease her into it. "I was just terrified and couldn't deal with everything that was happening. And I'm an asshole and I know I don't deserve your forgiveness for yelling at you and telling you to fuck off. But I am so in love with you, Loges, and I'm so sorry, and I'll do anything I can to make things right again. Just tell me what I need to do. Whatever it is, I'll do it, I swear."

Her cheeks tightened underneath my palms as her eyes and mouth curled southward, and for a brief second I thought she was going to cry, and that I had gone too far and she was about to back away and never have anything to do with me again. But then she roughly grabbed my shirt and pulled me into her, our lips colliding in a kiss that was a lot more than just a kiss. It was an apology and a promise, from Logan to me, and me to Logan, that no matter what abusive parents and ex-boyfriends or life-threatening illnesses and medical emergencies came our way, we would always face it together.