Chapter Twenty-Seven
LOGAN
“Logan, are you okay?”
“Mmhmm,” I mumbled as I pushed scrambled eggs around my plate.
“Are you sure?”
I glanced over at my dad and shrugged. “Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“Well, for starters, you’re never up this early in the morning unless it’s a school day.”
“Maybe I just wanted to have breakfast with my family for a change,” I said.
Rachel, who was sitting across from me at the table, beamed. “That’s really nice, Logan.” She thrust a spoonful of applesauce toward Abby’s mouth, but Abby pursed her lips and turned her head the other way in defiance.
“No,” Dad said to her while eyeing me, “that’s really suspicious.” He took one final sip of his coffee and stood from the table. “But I’m not complaining. It’s nice to see my son once in a while.” He ruffled my hair as he walked by me.
“I’m heading out now,” he said, leaning down to give Rachel a quick kiss.
“Okay. Have a good day at work, honey,” she said.
“I will.” He gave Abby a kiss on the top her head and then turned to me and said, “Have fun with Emma today.” He gave me a wink and a grin before saying goodbye to everyone and walking out the door.
I could feel my face beginning to burn. Was I blushing? No. No way. Guys don’t blush. At least, this guy doesn’t.
I lowered my head and shoveled a forkful of eggs into my mouth.
“Okay, Logan,” Rachel said as soon as my dad was gone. “Out with it.”
“Out with what?” I asked with a mouth full of food.
“Whatever’s bothering you. Something is bothering you, I can tell. What’s up?”
I shook my head. “Nothing’s ‘up’. Nothing’s bothering me.”
Rachel shook her head. “You’re lying. Come on, Logan, you know you can talk to me, right? About anything? With full stepmother-stepson confidentiality. Unless you’re in trouble, in which case I may have to tell your father.” She paused. “You’re not in trouble, are you?”
Yes, but not the kind she was thinking of.
With a sigh, I sat back in my chair and drummed my fingers against the kitchen table. “No, I’m not in trouble.”
“Does this have something to do with Emma?” She gave me a small smile. “I couldn’t help but notice you blushing when your dad mentioned her name.”
I groaned and leaned forward, burying my face in my hands. She’d caught me.
“It does have something to do with Emma!” she said, sounding mighty proud of herself. She placed a hand gently on my arm. “Logan, what’s going on?”
I dropped my hands to the table and stared blankly down at my breakfast. As much as I didn’t want to talk about it, I also did want to talk about it. But I had nobody to talk to. I couldn’t talk to Matt, for obvious reasons. I didn’t want to talk to my dad about it just yet, before I knew exactly what “it” was. I certainly couldn’t talk to any of my boneheaded friends about it either, so that kind of left Rachel as my only option.
“Emma and I kissed last night,” I confessed quietly.
Rachel gasped, bringing a hand up to her mouth. “Oh my God, are you serious? It’s about time.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “Oh, Logan. Dear, sweet, naive Logan. You do realize it was never a matter of if you and Emma would kiss, but when, right?”
I felt my breakfast food beginning to churn in my stomach. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Of course, you don’t.” Rachel chuckled as she made another attempt at feeding Abby. “So, this kiss. How did it happen?”
I suddenly felt very uncomfortable talking to her about this, but I answered anyway. “It was…we were just practicing. She’d never kissed anyone before and she was freaked out at the idea of Matt being her first. She didn’t want to embarrass herself. So, I offered to help her and I…kissed her. And then she kissed me back.”
“So, it wasn’t a real kiss, then?”
“Not the first one, no.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “The first one? There were more than one?”
I could feel my face burning again. “Yeah.” I took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Rachel, I think I might have feelings for her.”
I expected her mind to be blown by this revelation, but she didn’t even bat an eye.
“You don’t seem surprised by that,” I said.
“Because I’m not. You two have been spending time together non-stop for the past couple of weeks, it was bound to happen.” She smiled. “But I don’t understand why you seem upset about it. This is a good thing! Right?”
“Wrong.” I pushed my chair back and got up, grabbing my plate to take it over to the sink.
“Why isn’t it a good thing?”
I leaned against the counter and crossed my arms over my chest. “Where do I begin? For starters, Emma is about as interested in me as Abby is in that applesauce you’re trying to force-feed her right now.”
Rachel smirked as Abby once again snubbed her offerings—this time by pushing away the spoon with her chubby little hand. “Abby just doesn’t know what she wants. She thinks she wants the mashed bananas because that’s what I’ve been feeding her lately and she knows she likes them. But I have a feeling once she tries the applesauce, she’ll forget all about the bananas.”
I stared at her in amusement. “I’m guessing Matt’s the mashed bananas and I’m the applesauce in this scenario?”
She smiled. “All I’m saying is that just because Emma’s always been in love with Matt, that doesn’t mean she can’t develop feelings for you too. It seems like you guys have gotten really close the last couple of weeks.”
I sighed. “It doesn’t matter either way. Matt told me yesterday that he likes her and is planning on asking her out. Which means even if she said no—which would never happen—she’s off-limits. Once your best friend expresses interest in a girl, that’s it. You can never pursue her. There are rules against that kind of thing.”
Rachel frowned and shook her head. “Boys and their stupid rules. I mean, I get it. I do. But let me ask you this: is Matt in love with her?”
I shrugged. “I highly doubt it. He barely knows her.”
“Are you in love with her?”
I opened my mouth to say “no”, but no sound came out. Dammit, where’s my voice?
“That’s what I thought,” she said with a grin.
I glared at her. “You didn’t give me enough time to respond.”
Rachel gave up on the applesauce, stood and walked over to me. “Logan, if you think you may have feelings for Emma, you need to tell her.”
“That’s not going to happen,” I said, shaking my head. “Were you not listening like five seconds ago, when I explained that Matt likes her?”
“I was listening,” she said, “but—”
“But nothing.” I pushed off the counter and left the kitchen. Rachel grabbed Abby and followed me to the living room. “I’m sure these feelings don’t mean anything, anyway. What I felt last night was just hormones. I’d be having these same thoughts no matter who I’d kissed. Emma’s not my type. We have nothing in common. It would never work out between us. And…”
My voice trailed off as my eyes flickered over to the large bay window in the room that faced the street. Faced Matt’s house. Where Matt was currently standing outside. With Emma. Talking to her. Laughing with her.
And, most likely, asking her out on a date.
How lovely.
Swallowing hard, I motioned out the window and said, “Besides. I’m too late.”
Rachel followed my gaze. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned to me with a sympathetic smile and a comforting pat on the shoulder.
As much as I appreciated her trying to console me, I shrugged off her hand and said in a calm, cool voice, “Whatever. No big deal. I’m going to go take a shower. By the time I’m out, I will have forgotten all about this, anyway.”
I knew she didn’t believe me, and she shouldn’t have. Because I was lying. But what else could I do? Run out the front door and yell, “I object!” in the middle of his date proposal?
That would go over well.
I just had to suck it up and accept the fact my best friend was getting the girl. But what did I care? Maybe I did have feelings for Emma, but they were probably fleeting. Besides, I didn’t need her. I could go over to Matt’s house right now and simply tell Riley she was my girlfriend, and she’d be my girlfriend. Or I could go ask out any waitress at Rodeo Roy’s. Or call up any girl I went to school with. I could have any girl I wanted.
But I want Emma.
No, I didn’t. I forced that thought out of my head as I made my way upstairs and went straight to the bathroom, where I was going to take a hot shower and scold myself for even thinking I had feelings for Emma Dawson.
Fifteen minutes later, I emerged from the steam-filled bathroom feeling no better than I had before. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t convince myself that I was fine with Matt asking Emma out.
Because I wasn’t. Not at all.
As I threw on some clothes, my brain started concocting all these ideas of how to sabotage their relationship. How to convince Emma that I was the one she wanted, not Matt. But then my brain reminded me that sabotaging their relationship was wrong, and also the quickest way for me to lose my best friend, and destroy whatever sort of relationship Emma and I had started to form.
The devil and angel on my shoulders were so busy duking it out, I barely heard the whistling of my phone on my nightstand.
Great. Probably Emma texting me to tell me the great news. That Matt had asked her out. And that she’d accepted. And that now she and I didn’t have to hang out anymore.
With a heavy sigh, I grabbed the phone and stared at the black screen, not wanting to turn it on and read the words for myself. But it had to be done. If I didn’t read the text and respond, she’d probably come over and tell me in person. That was the last thing I wanted right now.
With my thumb, I hit the power button and swiped to unlock the screen, seeing right away that I was wrong. There was no text from Emma. Instead, the whistling had come from a notification.
Logan Reynold’s, you’ve been tagged in a video.
Intrigued, I tapped on the notification and it brought me straight to…a video from Grace?
As soon as I saw the name of it, #TruthHurts, an uneasy feeling crept into the pit of my stomach. When I saw Emma and Matt had been tagged in it as well, my blood turned cold in my veins.
What the hell was this?
Turning up the volume on my phone, I dropped onto the end of my bed and hit play on the video.
And immediately wished I hadn’t.
I saw right away the video was of me and Matt at Justin’s party yesterday. We were being filmed from behind, without our knowledge, and the microphone was picking up everything we were saying.
Everything.
“I think I’m going to ask out Emma.”
“Wait, what? Emma who?”
“The only Emma we know, you moron. Your Emma.”
“But why?”
“She’s cute. Actually, she’s kind of hot. I enjoyed playing mini golf with her the other night and it was pretty obvious she’s into me. I don’t know, I think she might be fun to hang out with. If nothing else, she might be a decent hookup.”
“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s not exactly your type.”
“Dude, my type is female, and she fits that description quite nicely.”
“Come on, let’s be real here. Dating her would be committing social suicide. Guys like you don’t date girls like Emma.”
No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening.
“What do you mean, girls like Emma?”
“She’s a nerd. She’s boring and lame.”
I stared down at my phone in horror, frozen. Unable to move. Unable to do anything but listen to myself…to my own voice, saying horrible things about Emma.
Things like, “She’s never even had a boyfriend. That alone should be a red flag.”
Or, “She’s a loser.”
And then the icing on the cake: my explanation to Matt about how I was only hanging out with Emma for selfish reasons, and because Rachel was forcing me to—not because I wanted to.
I felt sick to my stomach.
Emma was tagged in this video.
I had to get to her before she saw it.
I couldn’t let her see this.
“Fuck,” I hissed. I took off out of my room and bolted down the stairs.
“I’m heading out,” I yelled to Rachel over my shoulder as I flung open the front door…to reveal Emma standing before me on the porch.
“Hey,” I said casually, hiding my surprise. Not knowing if she’d seen the video yet, I didn’t want to jump the gun and start apologizing and explaining myself.
Her skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat, her face was flushed, and some of her hair had fallen out of her loose ponytail. She looked like she had run here, but not just from next door. She was breathing too heavily for that, and judging from her attire, and the earbuds hanging from around her neck, it appeared maybe she had been out for a jog.
If she’d been out for a jog, there was a chance she hadn’t seen the video yet.
But when our eyes met, I knew right away. She had seen it. All of it. Had listened to every last word I’d spoken about her. I could tell by the tears welled up in her eyes. The pained expression on her face.
My heart sank. My throat closed up. “Emma,” I managed to croak.
“So, I’m not Matt’s type, huh?” she said in a shaky voice. “Because I’m a ‘nerd’? Because I’m ‘boring and lame’? Because I’m a ‘loser’?”
I closed my eyes tightly, hoping when I opened them again, I’d be staring at my bedroom ceiling because this was all just a dream. A bad dream. It couldn’t be real.
But it was real. When I reopened my eyes, she was still standing there, looking angry. Hurt. Betrayed.
Dammit.
“Emma,” I tried again, keeping my voice as calm as possible. I took a step forward. She took a step back. “It’s not what you—”
“What was this, Logan?” she asked. Her voice was more high-pitched now, which meant she was about to lose her cool. “Was this whole thing some sort of a sick joke? A prank?”
I blinked. “What? No, of course not—”
“What, did you want to get my hopes up, make me think I had a chance with Matt, just so you could take it all away and humiliate me?”
Oh, God. She thought Grace and I were in on this together. She thought I had something to do with the video being posted online.
“No, not at all,” I said, taking another step toward her. “Emma, why would I do something like that?”
Her eyes widened. “Why? Because that’s what you do, Logan! That’s what you’ve always done!” She placed a hand on her forehead and stared down as she began to back up.
“Oh my God, how could I have been so stupid?” She was asking herself, not me. “How did I fall for this? How did I not realize right away what you were doing?”
“Emma, I wasn’t doing anything. This wasn’t a joke or a prank, I swear.”
Her eyes returned to mine. They were bloodshot now from holding back tears. “Oh, that’s right. You were forced to hang out with me. By Rachel. How could I forget that part?”
I swallowed, trying to dissolve the hard lump that had formed in my throat, but it was as solid as a brick and not going anywhere. “Emma,” I said, reaching out to her, “if you’d just let me explain—”
She jerked away from me. “Don’t touch me,” she said in a low voice. “And don’t explain anything, Logan. I can’t…” She stopped and shook her head. “I can’t do this right now.”
Turning on her heel, she quickly descended the front steps and started speed-walking toward her house.
No. I wasn’t going to let her walk away without hearing my defense. That wasn’t fair.
“Emma,” I said, following her across her front yard and up the porch steps. “What you heard in that video, that doesn’t—”
“Logan!” she bellowed, turning back around right in front of the door. “It’s over, okay? You got exactly what you wanted: I’m angry, I’m upset, I’m…heartbroken.” Her voice cracked. “You know, I actually thought we were becoming friends. I thought maybe…”
I watched her, eager to hear her next words. She thought maybe what? That we were becoming more?
But she didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she said, “I thought maybe you’d changed, but I’m such a fool. You’re just the same old Logan you’ve always been—not caring about anyone but yourself. Not caring how your actions affect other people. Not caring if you hurt them.”
I gaped at her. “That’s not true.”
She laughed, but there was no amusement to be found there. “Isn’t it? Logan, you lied on that compatibility test for selfish reasons, not even giving a second thought to the fact you were robbing somebody—me—of a genuine match. And then, when you found out you’d been matched up with me, you stood me up, not caring how that would make me feel. I cried all night, thinking my date didn’t show up because he saw me and wasn’t interested.” She paused for a moment. “Although, I guess I was right about that.”
That familiar knot began to form in the pit of my stomach. I remembered the night I stood her up. How effortless it was for me to just walk away. I hadn’t cared if it hurt her or not. It hadn’t even been a thought in my head.
“Emma—”
“You took me on that Ferris wheel, knowing that I was afraid of heights. That must have been really amusing for you, watching me freak out and have a panic attack. Classic Emma, huh? I’m sure it made for a great story to tell your friends.”
I furrowed my brow. “No, that’s not—”
“You got my hopes up, making me think I could actually get Matt to like me, but when it appeared that maybe he was starting to, you talked him out of it by telling him how much of a loser I am. Why? So you could rub it in my face when I realized it was never going to happen? So you could tell me to my face that I’m a loser and that nobody will ever love me?”
Did she really believe that? Did she actually think I would stoop so low as to spend nearly two weeks of my summer with her to just pretend like I was helping her get Matt?
Of course, she did. Why wouldn’t she?
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said, my voice defeated. At this point, I was wasting my breath.
She ignored my claim as she bit her lower lip. To stop it from quivering. “You stole my first kiss,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
The lump in my throat began to dissolve. “I didn’t…”
What I wanted to say was that I didn’t steal it. She let me have it. And yes, I did take it, but we shared that kiss.
“Emma,” I said softly. “You have to listen to me. What you heard on that video—”
“What I heard on that video,” she interjected, her voice eerily calm, “was proof that you’re a heartless jerk. You always have been, and you always will be.” She paused for a moment before adding, “Your mother would be so disappointed in you.”
It was like she had slapped me across the face. Punched me in the gut.
She might as well have.
I could tell she regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth, but by that point, it was too late. The damage had been done.
I stepped back and raked a hand through my hair. “Wow,” I breathed. It was the single harshest thing anyone had ever said to me. Her words cut through my chest like a dagger and stabbed me directly in the heart.
She stared at me, wide-eyed and stone-faced. Her face was expressionless, but the tears that had begun flowing down her cheeks revealed her true feelings.
She didn’t mean it, I tried to assure myself. She’s just speaking out of hurt and anger. And maybe that was true, but that didn’t stop it from completely and utterly destroying me.
Because she was probably right.
“I guess we know how we really feel about each other now,” I said coolly, willing myself not to break down in front of her.
Emma’s face crumpled as she nodded. As more tears began to flow. “Yeah,” she managed to say, “I guess so.”
Our eyes locked for a moment and despite everything, I wanted to pull her in and hold her close to me. I wanted to apologize profusely and whisper against her hair that nothing I said on that video was true; that I only said it because I had feelings for her at the time, but I just didn’t know it yet. I wanted to hold her face in my hands, brush away her tears with my thumbs and then kiss her until we both ran out of breath.
I wanted to fix what I’d broken.
But I didn’t get a chance to do any of that. Emma quickly turned, opened her front door, went inside the house, and slammed the door in my face.
I had ruined everything.