and I know I really did ruin it this time. I would give anything to take back the prank, but I can’t. It’s done, I won, and now I feel worse than ever.
Ben would be so disappointed in me right now, and that’s the worst part of all.
I try to apologize to Logan four times over the course of the week, but every time I get the strength to knock on his door I can’t bring myself to say it. I have no idea why Logan’s anger matters so much to me--I mean, it’s always been my goal to upset him, right?--but that night… I know I went too far. And it hurt more than I thought it would, hurt not only him but me . That look in his eyes, that pure fury, it’s like he knew I knew this would hurt him--and I didn’t care. He looked genuinely broken over it, and that just makes me want to crumple up and cry.
I love our rivalry. I love making him hate me. After all those years he disappeared and ignored me, after his failure to help Ben when he needed it most, Logan deserves it, and hating that bastard and having him hate me back feels good, feels right. But there is a difference between play and flat-out too much, and like a fucking idiot, I screwed it up.
So the night before my blind date, when Ruby is out with Jaden getting drinks or something, I call Logan. He answers on the fifth ring.
“Hey Logan?” I say to the silence on the other end.
“Yeah?” His voice is tired, sad.
There’s a long pause before I finally muster the strength to continue. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my eyes glistening with tears, and it’s the truth.
~
I wake up to Ruby’s snoring with a start the next morning and immediately check my watch. 11:45 a.m. Shit . I have my date in fifteen minutes.
Jumping to my feet, I throw on some clothes, shove my foot into a pair of brown country boots--it can’t really hurt to keep things interesting--and burst out the door without checking my hair or anything. I probably look like a complete mess in my old white t-shirt and black short shorts from last night, but it’s not like I care.
As soon as I get in my car, I notice Logan climbing into his coupe across from me, and I immediately tense up. A pang of regret from the other night surges back to me, and as I sit in my car, I feel my heart sink.
I really did it this time. I really ended our rivalry for good.
I tell myself I won’t engage him as I put my keys into the ignition, ducking my head down in hopes he doesn’t see me. But it doesn’t work because before I know it he rolls down his window.
“Going anywhere?” he says, and I feel relieved to hear that his voice is relatively normal. Something else is there, though, and I can feel it. Something so sad it makes me wince.
I don’t know why, but as much as I hate Logan, I hate hurting him-- really hurting him--more. I don’t think about what that means.
“As a matter of fact, I have a date to go to on. You?” I say, expecting him to give me some long-winded response about such and such Pointless Lecture by such and such Boring As Hell Professor that he just has to attend, and then I’ll drive away while he’s in the middle of another one of his Logan Tangents.
“I have a date too,” he says instead, which, I admit, surprises me a little. He puts his hand on his steering wheel, and we start to back our cars out together, side by side. “Nervous about yours?” he asks.
“Nope.” The truth is, I am kind of nervous about this date, even if I’m already well aware it is going to be a bust, but there is no way I’m going to mention that to Logan.
“Good. If he’s going out with you, I already know he’s either going to suck or you have no chance with him, so you have nothing to be nervous about.” He winks at me to the seal the deal. I respond gracefully and give him the finger,but I can’t help but feel thankful to see the usual rivalry in him return. I can tell he’s hurting, though. I know I am. Anything involving Ben hurts so freaking much. The other night I was too
Ben would be so disappointed in me right now, and that’s the worst part of all.
I try to apologize to Logan four times over the course of the week, but every time I get the strength to knock on his door I can’t bring myself to say it. I have no idea why Logan’s anger matters so much to me--I mean, it’s always been my goal to upset him, right?--but that night… I know I went too far. And it hurt more than I thought it would, hurt not only him but me . That look in his eyes, that pure fury, it’s like he knew I knew this would hurt him--and I didn’t care. He looked genuinely broken over it, and that just makes me want to crumple up and cry.
I love our rivalry. I love making him hate me. After all those years he disappeared and ignored me, after his failure to help Ben when he needed it most, Logan deserves it, and hating that bastard and having him hate me back feels good, feels right. But there is a difference between play and flat-out too much, and like a fucking idiot, I screwed it up.
So the night before my blind date, when Ruby is out with Jaden getting drinks or something, I call Logan. He answers on the fifth ring.
“Hey Logan?” I say to the silence on the other end.
“Yeah?” His voice is tired, sad.
There’s a long pause before I finally muster the strength to continue. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my eyes glistening with tears, and it’s the truth.
~
I wake up to Ruby’s snoring with a start the next morning and immediately check my watch. 11:45 a.m. Shit . I have my date in fifteen minutes.
Jumping to my feet, I throw on some clothes, shove my foot into a pair of brown country boots--it can’t really hurt to keep things interesting--and burst out the door without checking my hair or anything. I probably look like a complete mess in my old white t-shirt and black short shorts from last night, but it’s not like I care.
As soon as I get in my car, I notice Logan climbing into his coupe across from me, and I immediately tense up. A pang of regret from the other night surges back to me, and as I sit in my car, I feel my heart sink.
I really did it this time. I really ended our rivalry for good.
I tell myself I won’t engage him as I put my keys into the ignition, ducking my head down in hopes he doesn’t see me. But it doesn’t work because before I know it he rolls down his window.
“Going anywhere?” he says, and I feel relieved to hear that his voice is relatively normal. Something else is there, though, and I can feel it. Something so sad it makes me wince.
I don’t know why, but as much as I hate Logan, I hate hurting him-- really hurting him--more. I don’t think about what that means.
“As a matter of fact, I have a date to go to on. You?” I say, expecting him to give me some long-winded response about such and such Pointless Lecture by such and such Boring As Hell Professor that he just has to attend, and then I’ll drive away while he’s in the middle of another one of his Logan Tangents.
“I have a date too,” he says instead, which, I admit, surprises me a little. He puts his hand on his steering wheel, and we start to back our cars out together, side by side. “Nervous about yours?” he asks.
“Nope.” The truth is, I am kind of nervous about this date, even if I’m already well aware it is going to be a bust, but there is no way I’m going to mention that to Logan.
“Good. If he’s going out with you, I already know he’s either going to suck or you have no chance with him, so you have nothing to be nervous about.” He winks at me to the seal the deal. I respond gracefully and give him the finger,but I can’t help but feel thankful to see the usual rivalry in him return. I can tell he’s hurting, though. I know I am. Anything involving Ben hurts so freaking much. The other night I was too
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