The Girl with the Scars

Chapter 3

When I was younger, Mother always said that a boy must wait at least a minute at the door, otherwise the girl would seem too eager. So, with this in mind I take my time getting to the door when it rings, although I don't wait exactly a minute in case Father and Mother stop me from going altogether.

I open the door and become frozen. Logan is dressed in a navy suit and matching dress pants, black dress shoes, white shirt and navy, striped tie. Because I'm medicated and less the me I was during the meeting, I finally allow myself to look at Logan properly.

His skin is slightly tan, but not like Mrs. Gomes. The hair on top of his head is dark, either black or brunette that can't be distinguished because of the bad lighting. His eyes are bright, and he has a soft smile on his lips.

"You look lovely, Kali." He holds his hand out to me. The anxiety sets in slightly as I slowly reach my hand out and place it in his.

"You look handsome, Logan." I blush slightly as he leads me down the front steps to his car. I don't know much about cars, but it is beautiful. Sleek, dark, tinted windows.

Logan opens the passenger door like a gentleman, and I sit down on soft leather. It's so comfortable.

When he gets into the car, the spacious interior grows smaller. When we leave the drive of my house and head towards, I don't know where, I crack the window open slightly to allow the fresh air to calm my nerves.

"Are you alright?" Logan asks after a few moments of silence. I keep my eyes trained on the scenery, or lack thereof, as I respond.

"I'm alright. Where are we going?" I ask before I can stop myself, what if I'm not supposed to ask. I cringe to myself, hoping that he doesn't notice.

"Just this restaurant that I love." He responds. I nod but can't trust my voice to say anything more.

The rest of the trip is silent, besides the radio which isn't loud either, set at a background volume level.

I catch myself looking at him often, wanting to see more of his jawline, of his hair that is shaved close to his scalp around the lower half of his head and faded towards the longer hair on top of his head. The top section has been styled to flow back towards his nape. I would like to imagine that it is soft when it doesn't have product in it. Maybe he'd let me touch it one day. Fat chance. The voice chimes in. I sigh internally and look out the window again.

When we pull into the parking lot of a posh restaurant, I sit up straighter in the couch of a leather car seat. I've been wanting to go here for a while. Monte Blanca has the best reviews on the internet.

When my door opens, I'm surprised. I didn't notice Logan getting out and rounding the car until he is standing there, holding his hand out to me. I take it with slightly shaking hands and step out of the car.

The valet is waiting for us as we step closer to the building. Logan hands over his keys then takes my hand in his again and leads me towards the entrance.

"Master Michaelson, how lovely to see you again. We have your table ready." The hostess beams at Logan, not acknowledging me. I've grown used to being ignored. Maybe you don't exist and that's why no one acknowledges you. I really wish the voice would shut up.

We are swiftly escorted to our table by the beautiful blonde hostess herself. Have her and Logan ever gone out?

"Here you are, Sir. I hope everything is to your liking." Another beaming smile when Logan nods. "I'll let you get comfortable before I send someone to collect drink orders." She smiles again before leaving us. The table is beautiful, romantic. It has a single lit candle in the centre, floating in a bowl of water with red and pink rose petals. The tablecloth is a very pale gold colour which I wouldn't normally like, but it suits the restaurant perfectly. Logan helps me into my chair, then sits across from me.