Tailspin (Better Than You) (25 page)

We hurry through the crowd, dodging from one awning to the next, laughing as we run through puddles and push through people. When we finally reach the store, we’re soaking wet despite our efforts, but I’m feeling better. Happier. Suddenly all of the trivial things I had been thinking don’t seem so important.
This
Logan and I can make it work. There’s no reason we can’t.

“What does the necklace look like?” Logan asks.

“I have a picture of it on my phone.” I let go of her hand to dig the phone out of my pocket. She wanders away, browsing through the display cases. I know the picture’s here somewhere. Emily showed it to me, saying that it looked like something Mom would have liked, and later, when she wasn’t paying attention, I went through her phone and sent it to myself. I just don’t remember where I saved it.

There it is
. “Logan, I-”

“Jackson?”

I freeze, not daring to turn around or to acknowledge the fact that I recognize that voice. The name isn’t mine. Maybe, if I ignore her, I can grab Logan and we can walk out of the store. Clem will think she was mistaken. Frantically, I search the store for Logan, keeping my back to the direction of the voice. I can’t find her anywhere. It’s not crowded in here, but there’s pockets and places I can’t see behind. I start to take a step towards the direction she went off when I feel a soft hand on my arm.

“Jackson?” she says, hope in her voice. There’s nothing I can do but turn to face her and hope that Logan is far away, lost somewhere between the stands of silver and gold. She looks exactly the same, wild blonde hair and eyes so green they look like buffed jewels. There’re freckles splashed across her nose and cheeks. Have they always been there? Has she always looked so young and alive?

“It is you.” She smiles wide and pulls me into a hug. “I thought I was losing my mind. God, I haven’t seen you in…since…forever,” she ends awkwardly.

“Yeah,” I respond, trying to keep my eyes from shifting from hers. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good. Better, actually,” she says with a small smile. “No more parties and riots and stuff.”

“That’s really good, Clem.” I shift my feet. “Listen, I gotta-”

“I know it was a long time ago, but where did you go that night? At the party? You were there one minute and then you weren’t and the cops…” She trails off, holding my gaze, looking for the truth or lies or
something
.

Even if I wanted to answer, I don’t know how I would. Tell her I ran, and look like a coward? Or tell her the truth and look like the worst kind of liar? As I’m trying to come up with an excuse, an explanation, I see her. Maybe she was standing there the whole time, half hidden by a privacy screen that’s being used as an earring display, or maybe she’s just noticing me and the guilty expression I know I’m wearing tips her off.

“Jackson?” Clem calls, but I’m already pulling away from her, just noticing that her hand was on my arm this whole time. Every step I take towards Logan, she takes a step backwards, until finally turning and running for the door. I leave Clem behind in a flurry of unanswered questions and chase after Logan, plunging into the pouring rain.

It’s not hard to catch sight of her, since the sidewalks are empty now and she’s the only person running through the rain. “Logan!” I call out, catching up to her.

When I finally reach her, I grab her arm and pull her to a stop, almost falling forward as she yanks out of my grasp.

“How many were there?” she yells, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“How many what?”

“Girls,
Nathan
. How many other girls.” Is she asking how many girls I’ve been with? How many girls I’ve dated? “Or should I call you
Jackson
?” she adds, and then I understand. The proverbial light bulb is switched on. She heard everything.

“It’s not like that,” I try to tell her, but she turns and starts to walk away, through the rain, her pale pink shirt clinging to her skin. I follow close behind. “Logan, stop. It’s not like that!” I repeat, but she ignores me, trudging through puddle after puddle.
Damn it.

“You don’t have to tell me,” I hear her say. “It’s not like it matters. I just didn’t realize that there was more of me out there. It’s my own fault.”

The fucking rain is drowning out her voice, my jeans are soaking wet and heavy, and she just won’t stop walking. “Logan, dammit, just stop! Let me explain!”

She comes to an abrupt stop, forcing me to run into her back. As I straighten myself, she turns and meets my eyes, her dark hair plastered to her cheeks and neck. “Did you love her?”

Is she serious?
“Do you love Cody?” I spit out like an asshole. Before she can reply, I add, “No, I didn’t love her. She was just part of-”

“Part of the job, right? Someone you used and tossed.” She swipes a hand across her face. “Was that me? Did you feel some sort of obligation to me because I was so fucked up?”

“Jesus, Lo, you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion. You
know
it wasn’t like that with you.”

“Then why are you acting so weird around me now? Why are you acting like you don’t know how to handle this?” She gestures to the space between us. “Like it wasn’t supposed to go past
that
point?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” She stares at me, waiting for an answer that I can’t find the words to explain.

“You’re just- It’s just different. That’s all.”

She rears back, her eyes narrowed into thin slits. “That’s the
point
, Nathan. It’s supposed to be different when I’m not fucking high all of the time.”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing!” She whirls around and starts walking again. And once again, I follow. “I’m just saying that I don’t know where it puts us.”

“Why does it matter? Why can’t we just figure it out as we go?” She’s out of breath now, her words coming out in between heavy puffs of breath. I can’t tell if it’s from crying or running.

“Everything’s changed, Logan. You’ve changed and I’ve changed but we’re both still here where it all started and I don’t know where to even start figuring that out.”

Finally she stops again. I can see the car in the parking lot across the street. The rain’s let up a bit, just a steady sheet falling across a grey sky. “This isn’t where it started. I’m not high and you’re not undercover.” She pauses, lets out a deep breath. “I know everything’s changed. I just thought that it wouldn’t matter.”

It doesn’t
, I want to say, but I’d be lying. It changes everything, because I don’t know this Logan, don’t know what she needs or how to read her. Even now, as she stands in front of me with her hands on her hips and soaked through to the bone, I don’t know whether she wants me to hug her or step away. If it was the before Logan, I would step closer, wrap my arms around her and hold her tight as she fights me, because at least she was fighting. It was all I got. But now I want it to be her choice, her timing. I pushed her once and I’m not sure it helped. I can’t push her again.

“Take me home,” she says softly, defeated.

Before I can answer, she’s crossing the street, pulling on the handle of the door until it finally opens and she slips in. I jog after her, rushing into the car and holding my breath once the door is closed. The rain is now a muffled buffer, the silence between us heavier than the clouds in the sky. On the drive back, she stares out the window, her body relaxed but distant. Here, but not really
here
. Some things don’t change.

“It was stupid of me to think we could start over,” she says suddenly, just seconds away from her apartment. There’s a resolve in her voice that scares me. This is the part where she pushes me away. This is where I realize that I’m doing everything wrong again.

“What do you mean?” I ask hesitantly.

“A lot happened between us, Nathan. I don’t think we can ignore that.”

An image of Logan, surrounded by doctors and nurses and whirring machines, runs through my head, replaced suddenly by the image of her in a white dress surrounded by ash. “I don’t even know what your favorite color is,” I say, pushing the car into park. She doesn’t need to know that those images haunt me.

Logan’s lips turn up at the corners, a half smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I like yellow.”

“Right. Your room is yellow.”

“I’m surprised you noticed,” she says, smirking.

“What do you mean? It’s not like there was anything else to distract me.” She laughs and swats at my arm, the tension easing way with each musical note. “We should do this right. Go on a proper date.”

“You mean like dinner and a movie?” Her eyes sparkle with excitement.

It hits me then that she’s probably never been on a date.
I’m such an idiot
. “We can do whatever you want.”

“Surprise me,” she responds, her smile so wide it hurts
my
cheeks.

“Tomorrow night?”

“Okay.”

We stare at each other, eyes searching and wondering, maybe remembering. Slowly, I lift a hand to her cheek, run my knuckles over the damp skin. “I’ll tell you everything, if you want.”

She closes her eyes, leans into my hand. “Maybe one day.”

And then she turns and steps out of the car. Bending down into my window, she says, “By the way, I don’t love Cody. Never did,” before walking away. At the base of the stairs, she glances at me over her shoulder, sending a suggestive smile that sets my heart racing.

33

December 5, 2010

              I’m nervous. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.

              Emily helps me pick out a pair of dark jeans and a simple, black button down, saying something about how girls love a man in black. “I’m good,” she says when I walk downstairs.

              “You sure you guys will be okay?” I glance at Joshua, who’s already bunkered down on the couch watching Ferris Bueler’s Day Off. He’s a strange kid.

              “We’ll be fine,” Emily says with a smile, pushing me towards the door. “Don’t forget to bring me home a piece of chocolate cake.”

              “How could I? You’ve reminded me six times.”

              “It’s that important, okay? Oh and don’t forget your curfew.”

              Stepping outside, I laugh and turn to face her. “Curfew?”

              “Yep. No later than midnight.” Her smile is sad, maybe remembering the last time we saw Mom and Dad off on their date.

              “Do you think they would have liked her?”

              Emily glances at the floor, wipes underneath her eye. “They would have tried to protect her, just like you.”

              “But I didn’t protect her. I couldn’t.”

              “You love her, right?”

              Instead of answering, I nod. I feel vulnerable, weak and unsure in front of one of the people I’m supposed to be strong for.

              “Then that’s enough, Nathan. That will always be enough.”

              I pull her into a tight hug, ruffling her hair as I let her go. “Make sure you never lose that,” I call out as I jog towards my car.

              “What?” she yells. I can see her eyebrows furrowed in confusion from here. Or maybe I just know her well enough to know that’s what she’s doing.

              “Your faith in love.”

~~

              The restaurant I chose looks out on the water, a steakhouse noted more for its dessert than its steak. Logan sits across from me in a dark red, floor length dress. It’s simple, elegant. She looks like a model. When I told her so, her face turned the color of her dress.

              “Melissa gave it to me,” she says, shaking her head.

              “Why do you say it like it’s a bad thing?”

              “Oh, it’s not. She loves to shop.” She shrugs her shoulders. “She just can’t buy the long stuff cause she’s short. So she lives vicariously through me, I guess.”

              I smile. Girls are weird. “How do you guys know each other?”

              “Um.” She twists her hair around her hand. “She lived in my neighborhood, a long time ago. I was twelve when she moved away.”

              “You guys seem pretty close.”

              She nods. The waitress comes and takes our order. Once she’s gone, Logan says, “We were. She was…there for me.”

              It seems like there’s more to that statement, but I’m afraid to ask. I’m afraid to mention anything to do with her past because I don’t know if she can handle it. I’m worried that one wrong dredged up memory will send her back into a downward spiral,
us
back into a tailspin. The problem is that everything we had,
our
memories, were born from that spiral.

              The conversation comes to a halt, Logan gazing out at the water and me gazing at
her.
The soft lights and the moon shining through the large bay windows make it seem as if her skin is glowing, like it might burn to touch. Everything about her is irresistible but unobtainable in this moment.

              Reaching for my glass, I clear my throat and Logan jumps, as if she forgot we were sitting at this table together. The cold water fills my mouth, sends a shooting pain to the bottom of my teeth. “Is this awkward?” I ask through clenched teeth, trying to breathe through a brain freeze.

              Logan’s head see saws back and forth, one arm crossing her chest and gripping the other. “A little. It’s just kind of quiet in here.”

              “It is, isn’t it?” I glance at the crowd surrounding us- white hair and glares from glasses- and smile. “I guess this is as exciting as a Monday night gets.”

              “Do you think they can even eat steak?”

              Confused, I look back to Logan. “Why not?”

              “You know.” She shrugs. “Their dentures might fall out.”

              Holding back a laugh, I sit forward in my seat, the table between us small enough for me to be able to whisper into her ear. “Do you wanna get out of here?”