Chapter 13 - Logan
Logan had started off her soccer career with Xavier on a high note, helping to clinch a draw against Notre Dame and the famous Tara Rourke. Ordinarily she would be on top of the world, especially since her parents had been at the game, rooting her on from the stands.
But life had a lot less color in it these days. It was hard for her to focus on anything that wasn’t soccer. She was angry at the world; her usual sunny disposition and can-do attitude replaced by bitterness and frustration over things she couldn’t control.
Her father had begun his treatments, the ones Dr. Heflin said would help battle his cancer. Chuck Lowery was usually a man with boundless energy (some would say, that’s where Logan got hers) but he had now become someone who was easily fatigued, and who needed a lot of rest.
Logan had day-dreamed in high school about her father coming to all her practices at Xavier and even all her away games, now that he was retired.
But it wasn’t possible. As much as he wanted to do those things, he just couldn’t.
And that made Logan angry. So angry that her play on the field, while still otherworldly, was filled with a fury and aggression that wasn’t customary to her. And it had been noticed by everyone, including her mother.
* * *
“Logan,” Tracy Lowery had called her daughter after watching Logan get her first red card in her entire career, in a game against Ohio State. “We need to talk.”
“If this is about the game, I don’t want to talk about it,” Logan replied. “I already got chewed out by Coach Hiddink.”
“Logan Grace Lowery,” her mother said, and suddenly Logan knew her mother meant business.
“Yes?” Logan said meekly.
“I know you’re angry about what’s happening to Daddy,” Tracy said, trying to keep her voice from cracking. “And I don’t blame you a lick. I’m angry too. Life isn’t fair and your father doesn’t deserve what’s happening to him. The good Lord has His ways, I suppose, but I struggle to understand the purpose in the pain we have right now. And I know you struggle with it too, baby. And that kills me. I’m your momma, I’m supposed to be able to fix it. But Logan, I can’t fix this. I would if I could. I would take on the cancer myself…” Tracy was crying now. “But I can’t. And I’m so sorry, sweet girl. I’m sorry that you’re angry and that you don’t know what to do with that emotion because… we aren’t used to being angry people, Logan. And that’s because of your father. What’s there to be angry about when you have a man like him in your life?”
They were both sobbing now, Logan shaking in her grief on the other end of the phone call.
“Mom,” her voice shook. “I’m so sorry. That I let you down. That I let Dad down. I don’t know how to handle any of this. I wake up every morning praying it’s all a terrible dream or some kind of misunderstanding.”
Tracy nodded, blowing her nose into a handkerchief. “I know. I feel the exact same way. I pray all the time for a miracle.”
They were both quiet for a moment.
“I promise,” Logan said. “No more red cards. I had a bad day. But it won’t happen again. Dad raised me better. You both did.”
“You make me proud,” Tracy said. “Every day, Logan. And your dad too. Maybe come by this weekend and visit?”
“For sure,” Logan said. They said their goodbyes and hung up.
Logan lie on her bed for a long while, looking at the ceiling fan whirling above her.
“I need to get out of here,” she said to herself. “I need to run.”
* * *
Logan ran every day. In practice, in games, from one class to the next. It’s what she did, there was something in her blood that constantly urged her to move forward, to go.
There was freedom in it. And she loved it, more than anything. So even at night, even after hours of practice and long days, her way of winding down was actually by moving quickly in one direction for at least an hour.
She’d thrown on some Asics and a pair of old running shorts. The evenings in Cincinnati were getting cooler, but once she started going, she knew she’d warm up.
Normally she ran alone, every now and then a teammate or a classmate would join her, which was okay. She preferred to be alone in her thoughts, listening to her feet hit the pavement, the rhythm and dance of it soothing to her ears. She wasn’t someone who ran with headphones or music blaring. She didn’t need that kind of motivation.
She just loved running for the sake of it.
That evening, she seemed to be alone in her endeavors. Which in this case, was a bummer since she would have loved to have fallen into a conversation with someone to distract her from the sadness brewing in her heart.
But oh well. She began her pace, tuning out the world around her for a while, focusing on what lay ahead. She had another home game coming up and this time she needed to make sure she was in the right head space to compete.
But a funny thing happened. As she ran she could feel someone running up beside her. In her peripheral vision a tall figure keeping her pace and then suddenly actually going past her.
This was not normal. No one could outrun Logan Lowery.
She sped up, intent on being the pack leader. It was just in her nature. Logan didn’t follow anyone.
But he (the person was definitely a he) met her pace again and ran so far in front of her that she gasped, suddenly slowing down.
She could seem him well now. He was tan, tall, and… hot. Really hot. But also annoying because… well, she didn’t like someone outrunning her. On or off the field.
“Hey, sorry,” he spoke. His voice was deep with just the hint of an accent to it. “I see you running all the time and I’m always impressed you keep up that pace. It’s most people’s sprint.”
She rolled her eyes, but she had to admit she liked the compliment. “Yeah? Well, that wasn’t even me going with all four cylinders.”
“Oh yeah?” the hot guy said, a very sexy smirk going across his lips. “You can go faster?”
For some reason him asking that question made it sound like some sort of sexual innuendo. Her face flushed.
“Can you?” she quipped back. She was looking right at him now. He was shirtless, his broad shoulders and pectorals glistening with sweat on his golden skin. He had longish dark hair that fell in his face. And his face… Well. Handsome wasn’t even the word.
He was beautiful.
“Maybe,” he replied. “If I’m motivated enough.”
They were both still slightly panting, something else that seemed really sexual at the moment. Logan was blown away by the tension with this… stranger.
“What’s your name?” Logan boldly asked, never the shy one.
“Solomon,” he said.
She waited for him to ask for hers, but he didn’t.
“I’m Logan,” she offered.
“I know,” he smiled at her again. “Logan Lowery. X’s star soccer powerhouse.”
Logan blushed. Her heart was racing. So he knew who she was.
“I don’t know about that,” Logan modestly replied. “I’m just a rookie for the most part.”
“You don’t play like one,” he said.
“You’ve seen me play?” Logan said, surprised. “Do you play?”
Solomon laughed, shaking his head. “No, definitely not. I tried when I was younger. Wasn’t for me.”
Logan stared at him. He had to be an athlete of some kind. It was imprinted all over his perfect body.
“What sport then?” she asked. “Track?”
Solomon shook his head. “Nope.”
She raised an eyebrow waiting for him to tell her but he just smirked at her, something that drove her crazy. But something that also turned her on.
“Baseball?”
“Nah.”
“Tennis?”
“Never.”
“Basketball?”
“Too short.”
But he wasn’t short. He towered above her and she was almost 5’10. She would have guessed he was close to 6’3.
“Well, tell me, Solomon,” she said his name for the first time. “Who are you?”
“I’m a judoka,” he replied, suddenly more solemn.
“Judo?” Logan said. “I didn’t know X had judo.”
Solomon looked down at his feet. “They have a judo club. My uncle sponsors it. But I compete nationally and internationally…” He seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it. Logan wondered why.
“That’s amazing,” she said, genuinely. “Where do you train?”
He looked up at her, the light back in his eyes again, a smile on his face. “At Sensei Shinji’s dojo. Its right off campus.”
They started walking as he spoke. Their bodies were close enough that their arms kept brushing against one another, making Logan almost jump at every touch.
She’d never in her life felt like this around any man.
“I’ve never met a judo champion,” she said.
“I’m not a champion yet,” he said. “But one day. I’m trying to qualify for the Rio Olympics.”
Logan’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s my dream too… I’m going to tryouts in San Diego later this year actually. I probably won’t make it this time, but my dad thinks it would be a good experience.” Even just mentioning her father made her stomach drop for a moment.
“I’ve seen you play,” Solomon said. “You have a very good chance, I’d say. It’s definitely worth going for it.”
“Maybe,” she said, staring at him for a long moment. “Do you think you’ll make it?”
Solomon smiled. “Hard to say. I’m hopeful. I’m actually trying to make the Fiji Olympic team. Fiji has never won an Olympic medal. I’d like to be the first.”
He’d never shared that with anyone other than his Uncle Gavin. And here he was, sharing it with a girl he just met.
A beautiful girl. Not just physically… Though Logan was a perfect specimen of a woman.
“You’re Fijian?” she asked. “Are your parents from there?”
Duh, she thought to herself. You sound like an idiot.
Solomon’s smile fell. “My mother was.”
Logan wasn’t sure what to say. She sensed she’d walked into a topic that he was uncomfortable with. So she slowly backed away from it.
“Well, that’s really cool,” she said. “With any luck, we’ll both be at the Olympics at the same time. It could happen.”
He smiled again, this time showing perfect teeth.
Logan had never understood when her friends would say a man made them weak in the knees.
But now she got it. She was almost buckling. And her inner thighs were shaking, just standing near him.
“It will happen,” he said, confidently, looking at her so intensely that she almost forgot to breathe.
“I like that,” she replied almost in a whisper. “It will happen.”
* * *
They walked around campus for almost an hour, not talking about anything too serious, just some flirtatious banter back and forth.
Logan didn’t know what to make of it. Most men, especially college men, frustrated her completely. They wanted to talk about parties, or drinking, or hot chicks, or the latest stupid movie starring The Rock, or any other number of inane topics that Logan could care less about.
But Solomon was so different.
There was an intensity about him, something that told her he was a deep well of a man, the kind she wanted to get to the bottom of. He was mysterious but seemingly open with her. She loved how he spoke, how he walked. He had a wide and confident gait and she wondered what it was like to see him on the mat with an opponent, using his strength to takeover the advantage.
She also wondered what it would be like to have his hands on her own body. She imagined being underneath him as he entered her, how it would feel, how he would taste on her mouth…
“Logan?”
Shit. He’d asked her a question but she’d been lost in thought. She was mortified.
“Yes, sorry?” she said, shaking out of her trance, her cheeks red.
“I was saying I should probably head back to my apartment… But was wondering if I could see you again sometime?”
She could tell he was nervous, though she didn’t know why. There was nothing she would have loved more than to see him again.
“Of course,” she said, pulling out her iPhone. “That would be great.”
He smiled again as they exchanged numbers, something else that was foreign to Logan.
She didn’t give her phone out to anyone. Who had time for men at this stage in her life anyway?
But Solomon was different.
The kind of different she felt might possibly shift the tides in what was a very tough storm in her life at that moment.
“Good to meet you, Logan Lowery,” Solomon said as he turned to walk away.
“Same, Solomon. Have a good night.”
Logan watched him leave, not being able to take her eyes off of him until his figure blended into the shadows across the way.
What just happened? she asked herself.
For a brief moment, her father’s diagnosis sat in the back of her mind.
Solomon. She’d say his name in her head over and over again all that night.