When Kara's best friend, Maver, moves in with his brother she isn't happy about it.
Logan is nothing like Maver. He's straightforward, crude and just an overall menace. With a complicated home life, a complaint-worthy school atmosphere and Logan's a...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I furrowed my brow, focusing on the figures I was scribbling in my notebook. My eyes flickered back to the open book before me for a moment as I tried to figure out the next step in the equation. Math had always been one of my strong suits, but the longer I stared at the numbers in front of me the less sense they seemed to make. I'd been studying all day and my brain was beginning to give up on me.
My eyes drifted to the clock that hung above my desk to take in the time. It was already seven o'clock and Logan hadn't so much as texted me. Furrowing my brow I ran a hand through my loose curls. He'd said that he was going to show me just what his idea of simple was. That was what he said. And now. . .
Once more my gaze fell on the small hour hand as it waited much more patiently than I did. Logan had managed to put off seeing me so far, and I knew that if I turned and peeked from the blinds the sky would already be getting steadily darker. It was well past dinner time, so if his idea of simple had been trying an actual date that was no longer an option. Perhaps a movie?
No, he wasn't the type to go out to a movie. If anything he'd pirate it and watch it from the comforts of home. Besides, he'd never actually said we were going on a date. No, he'd said he'd show me how we could make things simple. Just what the hell did that mean?! I was dying to know. Aching to know. I had to find out soon or. . . or I was going to lose my nerve again. I was going to revert back to petty bickering with him. I knew myself well enough to know it to be true.
My hand had found my cellphone all on its own and I looked down at the screen. It was still Logan free. Slowly my fingers wrapped around it, squeezing tightly as my eyes fluttered closed. What would I do if he did call now? It was late, much too late for anything I'd dreamed of the night before. A date; that's what I'd though he'd meant by no longer complicating things. Admit we have feelings for each other and take the next step. It was the logical thing to do.
But Logan's far from logical. The thought was like a bug. Once I'd noticed it I couldn't just ignore it. Instead I focused on it, which may or may not have been pouring fuel on the spark I'd just lit. He wasn't the type of guy who cleans up nice for a date. He'd probably never been on a date in his life. No, he was Logan. He smoked. He drank. He did drugs. He had sex. Lots of sex.
I'll show you what simple means.
That's what he'd said on more than one occasion. My initial response had been to take that as meaning friends with benefits. All of the so called "simple" I'd seen resided in the heads of the girls that would leave his room the morning after a party.
I'd worried over it, and wondered over it. What would I do if that was all he wanted from me? I didn't know. I couldn't find the answer. And so I'd avoided him. I'd brooded and thought until I'd forgotten the original question. Then he'd made the first move and shown up at my school. Why had he even been there in the first place?
He'd been there when I'd come out, already sitting on the stone bench in the courtyard. I hadn't even thought to ask what he was doing there, I was so used to seeing him all over the place. We'd been spending so much time together and none of it actually planned. It had just happened that way. But Logan waiting outside of my highschool couldn't possibly be filed away under a coincidence. No, he had to have been there for me. What other reason was there?
