Loving Logan

Present day I unlock the door to my apartment and almost jump out of my skin when my roommate opens the door for me. "Dammit, Anna! You scared me!" I say, dramatically placing a hand over my heart. "Sorry, Katie! I've been waiting for you to get here! You won't believe who just stopped by looking for you!" Who would be looking for me? Anna is literally the only friend I have on this entire campus. Unless it's the cops and I have some kind of unknown warrant out for my arrest, I have no idea who it could be. "Well? Aren't you gonna ask me?" she asks, her blue eyes wide with excitement. "Uh, okay? Who?" "Logan!" His name is like a bullet to my chest. So much so that I stumble backwards. "Katie? Are you okay?" My heart is suddenly racing. I've seen him once in the past three years and it didn't go well. As a matter of fact, he punched my chemistry partner, Bryson, in the face and told me he hated me. We haven't spoken since and that was seven months ago. "Katie?" Anna waves her hand in my face and I snap out of my trance. "W-when?" I clear my throat and attempt to sound less star struck. "When was he here?" "He just left like five minutes before you got here. I told him he could wait but-" I don't give her a chance to finish. I drop my bag to the floor and run. I have to see him. I crash through the doors that lead outside and my eyes scan over the parking lot. It's only three in the afternoon and most everyone is in class, so there's hardly any cars around. My heart drops when I see his black Challenger pulling away. I run as fast as my legs can carry me through the parking lot, but only catch his brake lights before he pulls out onto the main road. I let him get away. Again. I bend over, resting my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. This is the most physical activity I've had in months. When you're pre-med, you don't have time for exercise, or parties, or dating, or fun of any kind. I don't even have social media anymore. I thought cutting ties with the real world would help me focus on my goals, but as it turns out, I'm just an exhausted, moody, out of shape loner with no life to speak of. I stand up straight and stare in the direction that Logan left in, silently wishing he would turn around and come back. I don't even know what I'd do if he did. Seeing him would stir up all those feelings that are still lingering around my heart, refusing to let go. He must feel the same way if he's looking for me. I sit down on the curb and bury my face in my hands. I won't cry. I'm done crying over him. After all, I'm the one that ended it. I'm the one that couldn't do long distance. I'm the one who broke his heart. 5 years ago It's the first day of school and I'm frantically searching through my closet for something to wear. I went shopping with my dad a couple of weeks ago and thanks to his mid-life crisis and my lying, cheating, floozie of a mother, he was a little generous with his credit card. So how is it that nothing I pull out of my closet seems like 'first day of school' material? I finally settle on a pair of black leather leggings, a flowy white tank top and pair them with black booties. I blow dry my long blond hair, straighten it, and put on some mascara and lip gloss. I take one final look at myself in my vanity mirror. My brown eyes seem so boring. I wish they were a different color, like blue. I love blue eyes. My mom has gorgeous blue eyes, but I took after my dad. I'm still not sold on this look, but I don't have time to do anything about it. Casey should be here to pick me up any second now. I hurry down the stairs and kiss my dad on the cheek on the way out the door. "Wait, no breakfast?" he asks me. "Casey is outside waiting for me. We're going to Starbucks." "Do you need any money?" he asks, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. I sigh. He's been trying to make up for his failed marriage by buying me anything and everything I want. To any other sixteen year old girl, that would seem great, but I don't want him to think he has to buy my love. Mom just up and left him for her boss after twenty years of marriage. The last thing I want to do is make him feel like he owes me something for it. "No, dad. I still have the money grandma sent me for my birthday." "Oh, okay." He puts his wallet back in his pocket, looking a little disappointed. "Are you sure?" I wave him off and smile. "Love you, dad." "Love you, honey bear!" I hear him call after me as I'm hurrying out the door. "Cute outfit," Casey says, watching me slide into the passenger seat of her black Mustang convertible. Her parents, like mine, are loaded and she's also an only child. You would think she'd belong to the group of perfect, beautiful, sexy goddess cheerleaders that rule every high school across America. Casey is drop dead gorgeous with long, wavy light brown hair, soft green eyes and the body of a freaking super model. She's 5'10 and her legs are like a mile long. Since I'm only 5'2, I look like an umpa lumpa next to her. There's a reason that Casey Conner doesn't belong to the popular crowd. She hates them. No, loathes them. And pretty much everyone else besides me and a handful of other people she deems worthy of her presence. She is a self-proclaimed b***h, after all. We became friends on the first day of kindergarten when she pushed Kayla Woods off the monkey bars for calling me fat. Since that day, she's been glued to my side. I think she has a super hero complex or something, but I'm not complaining. With awkwardness like mine, I need all the help I can get. "Thanks! You look..." I trail off, trying to find the right words. She looks great, of course, but with those long legs, her black sun dress looks way too short. "I look like a slut. Which is exactly the look I was going for," she smirks. We drop the top and turn the music up as we drive along. When we stop at a traffic light, a truck full of jocks stops next to us. I look over to see none other than Colton Turner in the driver's seat. Colton has managed to make fun of me, injure me or completely embarrass me every day since the second grade when he moved to Summerdale. I roll my eyes, knowing he's going to have something snarky to say. Sure enough, he leans out the window and whistles. "Nice car, Casey! It would look a lot better if you didn't accessorize it with trolls." He looks at me and winks. If only I had something to throw at his enormous head right now. Casey doesn't say anything, just flips him the bird. "Anytime, anyplace," Colton replies with a smirk, his jug-head buddies in the truck with him all laughing at the insinuation. When the light turns green, he revs his unnecessarily loud engine before squealing his tires and speeding away. "He's overcompensating for a tiny p***s," Casey scoffs, driving away. "Please tell me you've never seen his p***s," I beg, looking at her in horror. She snorts. "God no! You know I hate that guy!" We pull into Starbucks and as we're walking in, I notice Colton's truck in the back corner of the parking lot. Great. We get in line to place our orders. I can already hear Colton and his band of brain-dead numb d***s laughing in the corner booth. "Don't let him get to you, Katie. One day he'll be pumping gas at Billy Bob's Stop and Shop while you're a world famous doctor curing rabies or whatever." "Rabies?" I ask as we take our drinks from the barista and walk over to a table on the opposite side of the room from Colton. "Don't you mean, cancer? Diabetes? Literally, anything else?" She sits down and gives me a bored look. "Yeah, sure, whatever, but you get my point. He's as dumb as they come. One day, nothing that happens in high school will matter. His stupid pranks and his dumb face...you'll forget all about him. You're twenty times smarter than our entire student body and you, Katie Baxter, are going places. While our friend Colton will be stuck here forever." I give her a genuine smile. She knows exactly what to say to me. Always has. My smile falls to a scowl when I hear Colton's obnoxious laugh again. "I just don't get why he's out to make my life a living hell. I mean, grow up already." I absentmindedly stir my drink with my straw and get lost in my thoughts. I look up when Casey clears her throat. I follow her eyes and when I turn around, my lungs squeeze the last bit of air out and I let out a tiny squeal. Logan Malone. If you asked Casey, she would tell you that I'm obsessed with this guy. The problem is, Logan is super weird. He doesn't talk, he doesn't have friends, he doesn't play sports, I'm even surprised to see him in Starbucks. He's hot. Like really hot. He's at least 6'3 with broad shoulders and bulging muscles like the hulk. I have no idea what he does to stay so fit. I probably don't want to know. Especially since no one really seems to know why he is the way he is or why he's so scary. He hasn't always been this way, but about three years ago, he just started completely shutting everyone out of his life. That's only led to the development of some very far off theories. I've heard he's a gang leader, a drug dealer, and my personal favorite, an alien. Everyone seems afraid of him. When he walks down the hallway at school, people clear a path like he's going to run them over. No one dares to cross him or even look at him the wrong way. But I'm not afraid of him. I go out of my way to be nice to him and make conversation, but he doesn't give me much. Usually, just a simple yes or no, or sometimes just a grunt. I won't give up. I'm going to be his friend, even if it kills me. "This is the year Logan and I become friends," I say, watching him place his order. "You say that every year," Casey deadpans, sipping her latte. "I know, but this year is different. I can feel it." I take a deep breath when I see him coming our way. His face is stoic and hard, mean even. I should be terrified of this guy, but something about him draws me in and makes me want to know him more. "Hey Logan!" I say as he walks past our table. "I like your shirt." He glances down at his shirt and then over at me. "Uh, thanks, Katie." After he's gone I turn to Casey and squeal with excitement. "He knows my name!" "He's known you since kindergarten, of course he knows your name. And I like your shirt? You seriously couldn't think of anything better to say than I like your shirt?" "Well, it was a nice shirt...." I say, my excitement deflating. "You're a hopeless stalker, you know that right?" Casey laughs. "I'm not a stalker," I say turning around to watch him get into his car. I turn back to Casey to see her smirking. "Okay, maybe I'm going a little overboard." "A little? You watch his every move! You find any reason you can to talk to him-" "And yet he acts like I don't even exist," I interrupt, slumping in my chair. I know what it sounds like. I swear I'm not really a stalker, but maybe I am slightly obsessed with befriending Logan. But who couldn't use a friend?