Losing Logan

Ten

Walking into school next to Bruno is like an out of body experience. From the second we hit the first step, people are waving and saying hello, not just to Bruno who is literally friends with everyone in the school, but to me as well. I’m getting looks of abject shock mixed with lust from most of the male population, and the girls are either shooting daggers with their eyes or sighing wistfully. I’m not sure which of these things makes me feel more like I’m walking naked into a gauntlet.

My first class of the day is with Coach Mason. He’s wearing his usual white shirt, buttoned almost to his neck with the sleeves rolled up around his elbows, and Dockers. I walk in just a heartbeat before the bell. He’s writing on the chalk board and when he turns and sees me, he’s momentarily confused.

“Hey Mr. Mason.” I say and scope out a seat. The front two rows are completely filled with females, including Kaylee herself. I make my way to a back seat and an empty desk next to Carson who greets me warmly.

As Bruno predicted, there was no announcement about Logan’s death, no plans for a memorial at the school, and no grief counselors. The day went like any other day, except for the part where people were actively talking to me. Okay, mostly guys, but even a few girls strike up convos with me throughout the day. It’s like going from being invisible to being a celebrity. I try to be kind, and mostly to refrain from insulting anyone, even when they say things like irreguardless and speak in annoying text acronyms, and I was like, OMG, NW. IDBY.

However , by the end of third period, I am actually trembling with the need to slap the girl in my journalism class who keeps telling me how super much she wanted to learn journalism so she can get into Fashion Week free and sit up front.

By the time the bell rings and I gather my books, Bruno and his friends Becker and Cassidy are waiting for me outside the classroom door. Becker is tall and spindly, his red hair combed so it falls over his eye. He has his arm around Cassidy, a busty short blonde girl with a smattering of freckles across her nose. The ultimate odd couple.

“Hey,” Bruno says, taking my books.

I let myself grab him with one arm and hug him gently. Logan is standing beside him, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so glad to see anyone in my life. It’s so weird how I’ve gotten so used to having him around in such a short period of time.

“How was class?” Cassidy asks me cheerfully.

“Well, I didn’t strangle anyone, so I count that as a raging success.”

She smiles warmly. “You guys getting ready to start yearbook orders?”

I nod. “Yeah, actually we are opening up for orders next week. Just working on layout so we have an estimate of how much printing is gonna cost.”

“Can’t they just estimate based on the page count from last year?” Becker asks, flicking his head to get the hair out of his eyes.

I pause, “Yeah. We will do that. But they are talking about adding a few pages. I think they want to put together some kind of memorial for Logan.”

It’s only half a lie. The memorial was my idea. It’ll give me an excuse to get pictures and talk to people about him, specifically Kaylee. A stroke of genius, if I do say so myself.

“Clever,” Logan mumbles, looking reluctantly impressed.

“May I walk you to lunch?” Bruno asks, holding out his arm as I weave mine through.

“That’d be wonderful.”

Becker tisks. “Quit being so chivalrous. You’re making the rest of us look bad, dude.”

Bruno beams as we head for the parking lot.

One of the nicest things about being a senior is off campus lunch privileges I decide, as we pile into Becker’s Rubicon. Not that our tiny town has a lot of options, but tradition dictates that at least for the first day, we eat at The Melting Pot. The pizza is to die for and it has all the charm of a 1970’s head shop.

The large round table in the very back is already full of Logan’s friends. Everyone is there. Darla, head cheerleader and the only person on the planet under the age of fifty who actually plays the harp, Katelyn and Abygail Rodgers, aka the twins, Austin Lattimer, whose mother is the town Mayor, and of course, Jesus DePalma, who is built like a NFL linebacker and has a mowhawk, earning him the moniker Mr. T. Even Becca and Madison are there, somehow having detached themselves from Kaylee’s ass for five minutes.

The only person missing is Kaylee.

“Hey guys,” Bruno says, pulling out a chair for me. “You all know Zoe, right?”

They take turns murmuring hello with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Katelyn and Abygail seem genuinely pleased to meet me officially for the first time (though we’ve shared classes for three years) and Austin and Jesus are equally kind and friendly. The lemmings couldn’t care less that I’m there and Darla looks legitimately put out. Then I remember that she and Bruno dated for a few months last year. No wonder she’s giving me scorpion eyes.

The waitress comes over and the guys proceed to order.

“Two large pepperoni with extra cheese and light sauce please,” Jesus says.

“And I need a salad,” Darla chimes in, with a few of the other girls asking for the same.

“And I need a medium deep dish with pepperoni, jalapeño, pineapple, and bacon,” I add.

The twins stare at me in abject horror. I look over at Bruno, sure I’ve committed some cardinal sin, but he’s just grinning. The waitress brings over a massive pitcher of soda and the conversation begins.

Logan has sprawled out in the booth next to us and he’s watching the group intently.

“Where’s Kaylee?” he asks suspiciously.

I look around the table. “Where’s Kaylee?”

Madison makes a show of flipping her blonde hair. “She said she had other plans. Can you believe that?”

The guys could really care less, but thankfully Darla is intrigued enough to ask a follow up. “Plans? Plans with who?”

“With whom,” Logan corrects from his booth making me want to give him a big grammar Nazi high five.

Madison shrugs, but Becca leans over and whispers conspiratorially. “I think it’s the new mystery guy she’s seeing.”

Darla clanks the ice in her cup with the straw. “Who cares?” she says bitterly.

Madison and Becca are on the Dance Committee so I decide to change the subject.

“Hey, just so you know, we picked a date and a theme for Homecoming,” I say, feigning enthusiasm. “Well, it was actually Leena’s idea. We are doing Venetian Masquerade.”

Becca swoons. “Ooo. I love that.” She turns to Madison and they immediately start planning. “We could do one of those little boats for people to take their picture in.”

“A gondola,” I say helpfully.

“Right. And we can drape a bunch of blue and black sheer fabric from the ceiling and put little white lights underneath so it looks like the night sky,” Madison taps her chin thoughtfully.

“And everyone can wear beautiful masks,” Darla says, visibly warming to the idea. Then her tone sours. “Maybe Kaylee will show up with her new guy, you know, since we won’t be able to see his face.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Madison asks meekly, like she’s unsure if something just flew over her head.

Darla smirks. “Well obviously he’s completely ugly and deformed if she’s ashamed to be seen with him. She probably pulled an Anna Nicole and she’s dating some rich old guy on life support.”

Becca makes a disgusted face and Madison laughs. Aby almost shoots soda out her nose.

“Well, whoever he is, I feel for the guy,” Austin says and the other guys nod in agreement.

“Why do you say that?” I ask.

“Let’s just say that a vicious, man eating piranha would probably make a better girlfriend.”

Bruno waves the waitress over for another pitcher. “Yeah. Logan deserves a friggin medal for putting up with her for so long.”

“Deserved,” Darla corrects, sending a ripple of tension through the group.

They all fall silent, the tension heavy in the air.

“So, do you have a date yet?” Cassidy asks me, breaking the silence.

I can actually feel the relief rush in like a cool breeze. “Yeah, actually. Bruno asked me.”

Across the table Austin leans forward, giving Bruno a very manly fist bump.

Jesus whistles. “Nicely done dude.”

Becker just rolls his eyes and mumbles. “About time, too.”

The pizzas arrive and the group breaks into discussions of lacrosse, hateful teachers, and summer vacation recaps. I just listen, trying to add a passively interested comment here and there. Logan finally stands up and moves behind me.

“Hey, I’m going to go look for Kaylee.”

I nod, looking if as in response to something Becker is saying and Logan vanishes. He’s still gone when we finish and head back to school.

No sooner am I back in school and back in class than Logan finally reappears. I shake my head just a fraction. I told him not to bug me in class.

“I know, but its Kaylee. She’s in the bathroom crying. As soon as I realized where she was, I went outside and waited for her to come out. But she still hasn’t. And I think…she was throwing up.”

My hand launches into the air.

“Yes?” Mrs. Green, my AP European teacher, asks from behind her fifties style cat-eye glasses.

“May I have a restroom pass please?”