Focus - Logicality

Virgil - Heartbreak Buddies(Part 2)

Two days have passed since Patton and Logan's big fight, so today marks the third. Roman and I have already had the inevitable stop overextending yourself, you're stressed enough already conversation. I know he's right and I can't keep doing this, but I can't seem to stop trying.

Logan, who has already skipped four classes in the last three days, is a depressed, nervous wreck--I never thought I'd say that about anyone other than myself--who always looks like he's about to cry. It's pretty obvious that he hasn't been eating or sleeping, except for when I force him to eat lunch. At lunch on the first day, Patton broke his silent treatment for the first time--and only, so far--since he broke up with Logan to shout at him to shut the hell up and stop apologizing. Patton subsequently fled the cafeteria, glaring at Logan through his tears, and it took ten minutes of coaxing to get him to exit the bathroom stall and sit with Roman, Logan and I at lunch the next day. I have to check Logan's arm each morning to make sure he hasn't inflicted anymore injuries upon himself. Of the three days, since the fight, I've found a new cut on his arm each of the first two days. Today there are no new scars, but I'm trying not to get too hopeful.

Patton is a heartbroken, even-more-anxious wreck who still refuses to speak to him, but thankfully, he still has cheer practice almost every day after school, which gives him something else to focus on. He readily admitted to me over text that not only is he willing to forgive Logan for everything and feels guilty about the silent treatment, but that seeing Logan like this is killing him and he has no clue why he continues to be angry, but can't seem to stop.

The car ride to and from school is always uncomfortable. Roman tries to ignore it, but I've started taking his place as designated driver in the mornings so I have an excuse to focus on something other than the rapidly lengthening divide between Patton and Logan. They've each independently developed convoluted schedules of when to go to their lockers without seeing each other, but because they keep intersecting, they have to change them constantly.

When I finally take a deep breath and break away from my thoughts, Roman is squeezing my hand and telling a long, passionately intense story filled with theater-kid gibberish, but as soon as I meet his gaze, he stops. He sees the look in my eyes. "Is the plan again, babe?" I nod. "Don't worry, it'll be fine. I promise they won't hate you. They need this. Just pick the lock, okay? I'll do the talking if you don't want to. If you want, you can tell me what to say. We'll get through this together." I nod again, letting him slide an arm around my upper back, pulling me close to him. Despite his enormous ego and glaringly obvious lack of patience or foresight, Princey always knows what to do and say to make me feel better. Maybe it's just because he's a hopeless romantic, or maybe it's because I secretly am too. I lean into him, savoring the way my narrow hips fit against his muscular form. I almost allow my eyes to slip shut before remembering that we're in the middle of a long, narrow hallway, between a cluster of lockers and a long-abandoned supply closet. Even though the halls are nearly empty because school ended 10 minutes ago, I bite my lower lip and force myself to remain at my usual level of vigilance; there are security cameras lining the halls. Considering how nervous I am, it's not hard to stay on-guard. All I have to do is stop looking into Roman's deep, shining brown eyes.

"I texted Patton and Logan separately," I tell Princey. "They should be here any second. Hold this." I shove my backpack in his general direction and remove one of Camille's old bobby pins from the pocket of my hoodie. With my usual light touch, I pick the lock to the janitors' closet in about forty-five seconds while Roman stands guard. "Usually it only takes me 30," I mutter. "I must be losing my touch."

"Of course not, love," Roman assures me. "I'm sure it's just your nerves again."

"I guess so," I sigh, shoving the bobby pin in my pocket. "You always know what to say, Ro." I take my backpack from him and turn around. When I do, Patton is standing by his side.

"Hey, Virgil. What are we doing here?" Patton forces a smile. He's been doing it for the cheer squad since eighth grade, so it should come naturally; maybe this is different, though, because this smile is obviously fake. Just like it has been for the last 3 days. He looks a lot more tense than he was the last time I saw him, which is saying something.

"You'll see." I try to appear calm and collected, but inevitably fail. Patton is too jumpy to notice, which I'm thankful for. Roman reassures me with a small smile. I squeeze his hand tightly, watching as his face goes bright pink.

As I slip the straps of my backpack over my shoulders, something in the distance catches Patton's attention. What little color remains in his face drains in a matter of milliseconds and his eyes widen. "I should go," he manages. "Sorry guys." I turn around to see Logan approaching and sigh. This fight is getting old. I exchange glances with Roman and he nods.

"No dice, Patton." Roman announces with his usual bravado, making sure it's loud enough for Logan, about ten feet away, to hear. "You're both here for a reason."

"What might that be?" Logan asks. He doesn't even try for a pleasant tone, and his voice comes out just as broken and dejected as his normal, heartbroken pattern of speech. That alone makes me wince at the thought of the emotional hardship of the last few days. Roman somehow senses it and speaks forcefully, but still politely. Hopefully he'll stick to what I instructed him last night.

"I never thought I'd say this, but... everyone into the closet!" Roman announces cheerfully before elaborating, "Virgil has ever-so-kindly used a bobby pin to grant us access, so we mustn't get him detained by lingering in front of an open doorway that may or may not be forbidden to the student body." I roll my eyes and help him usher the other two inside, closing the door most of the way behind us. Patton doesn't like it when I pick locks, but he doesn't complain this time. For a few seconds, I let my eyes linger on the barren, dusty shelves of the long-abandoned supply closet.

"I never thought I'd be back in the closet," Roman mutters with a laugh. I scowl at him, but the dust lingering in the air of the musty air of the claustrophobic little room is making me sneeze, which ruins the effect--he and Patton think I sound like a kitten when I sneeze. It's so dark that Roman probably can't see how flustered I am, anyway. He meets my gaze, asking a silent question, but I shake my head no.

"It's okay, babe," he assures me. "I'll do the hard part--just talk to them, okay?" I nod slowly as I turn to confront Patton and Logan. "This has gone on for far too long. You're both sorry, you're both in love and you're both desperate fucking messes--no offense. But I'm the one stuck cleaning those messes up. While I'm usually more than happy to be of service, I only have so much to give. You two will play your little games forever because that's what people do when love fails, but not anymore. I'm ending this once and for all. Whether ending this means finding a compromise and agreeing to be friends or you two kissing in a dark, empty closet, you're doing it now. I don't care if it takes you all damn day. This. Is. Ending. Am I understood?" I growl. They both nod. "Good. You'll thank me for this later."

Before they can say anything else, I take Roman's hand and exit the closet. As promised, he does the hard part and shuts the door behind us, trapping the pair inside. "It's okay," Roman assures me, reading my mind again. "You did what they couldn't do themselves."