Losing Logan

Fourteen

I’m still frozen, only now it’s literal, like having the worst case of frostbite in history. My fingers and toes are numb, my face bitter cold. I can actually see my breath in the air.

“What do you want from me?” Logan demands.

The hooded figure doesn’t answer. It just stands there, long brown robe pooling on the floor around it, hood drawn so its face is hidden in shadow. Raising a hand it points, past Logan to me.

“You can’t have her. I won’t let you touch her.”

Logan is defiant and bold, stepping toward the creature, his hands balled into fists at his side.

It shakes its head slowly.

Stepping forward, Logan throws a punch, but his fist passes through the figure. He rocks back, surprised.

“Just take me instead,” Logan pleads softly. “Leave her alone and take me.”

I lunge forward, finally able to move. I can feel the adrenaline course through my veins like acid, burning away the cold.

“No!” I reach for Logan, but he’s a ghost again and I can’t make contact with him. He turns to look at me.

“Logan, don’t you dare give yourself up to that freak.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

I back up, moving to the edge of my bed. “Please, Logan. I don’t want to lose you. Not yet. It’s not fair.”

His face falls and he turns away from me, back to The Reaper.

I back myself into the corner of my bed, reaching blindly behind me. Wrapping my fingers tightly around a metal rod I race forward, swinging at The Reaper wildly. The fireplace poker connects, dropping the creature to its knees. As I draw back for another blow it vanishes.

“That’s what I thought, you pathetic Ghost-of-Christmas-Future wanna be.” I drop the iron rod to the floor with a thud. Running to Logan I find that I still can’t touch him.

“Sorry,” I say shaking my head. “I couldn’t let him take you.”

He looks past me to the iron rod.

“How long have you had that in here?”

I shrug. “Since the cemetery.”

“Well, good thinking. And, uh, thanks for not using that on me.”

“No problem.”

Neither of us says anything else, we just sort of stand there, the discomfort growing between us. How does a passionate kiss turn into awkward silence? Like this, I suppose. I want to say something, but I can’t think of anything that doesn’t make me sound like a total freak so I clamp my mouth shut. It’s Logan who finally breaks the silence.

“I don’t want to leave you either Zoe.” His eyes grow dark, “But I will do whatever I have to do to keep that thing away from you. Even if it means moving on.”

I draw in a deep breath and nod once.

“Besides, you have a boyfriend. With a pulse.” He tries to smile but it’s lopsided and forced. “I mean, it’s kind of a minimum requirement.”

“Bruno is a great guy. But he’s not—“

“Dead?”

I look up, trying to fight back the tidal wave of emotions threatening to overtake me.

“You. He’s not you.”

Logan walks over, closing the gap between us and lays a gentle kiss on my forehead. I can almost feel it, but not quite. Whatever magic allowed him to be solid for so long was gone now. And the loss of it is almost enough to make me cry.

“Get some sleep Zoe. We will figure everything out in the morning.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Oh, you know. I’ll just hang out in the chair over there and check out some late night infomercials.”

“You mean keep watch.”

He nods, “Yes. Keep watch. But something tells me that thing won’t bother you again tonight, now that it knows you’re armed and dangerous.”

He breaks into a grin. “You are the only girl I’ve ever met who is ballsy enough to take on a ghost with a fireplace poker while in her rubber ducky pajamas.”

I shrug.

He motions for me to crawl back in bed. But my heart is still racing and I’m sure I won’t be able to sleep. I just lay there, staring at him. Maybe, I can memorize his face, every last detail. Make it perfect in my memory so that once he’s gone…

The pain is sharp and crushing, like a vice around my heart.

“Logan, stay with me.”

He tilts his head, “I’m not going anywhere.”

I bite my bottom lip and pull back my covers. “No, stay here, with me. Beside me.”

I hear the quake in my voice. “I mean, I know we can’t…I just want to sleep beside you. Just once.”

He grins and slips into bed beside me, so we are face to face. I draw the covers up but they fall right though him. I laugh dryly, not sure what I expected. He props his head up on his elbow.

“Now get some sleep, Zoe. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“You better be.”

I’m still fast asleep in Logan’s arms when my mother throws open my door.

“Zoe! Get up. You missed your alarm. You’re late for school.”

I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes. Mom is staring at me like I’m crazy.

“Are you sick?” she asks immediately, prepared to go into full on nurse mode on me.

I hold up a hand, trying not to smile because Logan is lying beside me snickering.

“No. No, I’m fine. Just overslept. I’ll get ready. Thanks.”

Mom nods warily and shuts the door. I laugh and fall back into bed.

“You know, that’s the first time I’ve ever been busted in bed with a girl, and your mom didn’t even seem to care.”

I roll my eyes. “It helps that she can’t actually see you.”

“Good point. Maybe we should sleep like this every night.”

“Fine by me,” I mutter snuggling up to him.

He slides out of bed. I sigh deeply.

“We could play hooky today. Stay here, watch infomercials, lick stuff,” I wag my eyebrows suggestively.

He chuckles. “Better not. I’d hate to be to blamed for your sudden academic decline.”

I wave him off. “Yes, I’m sure my poor grades are the absolute be all and end all of your afterlife.”

I grab my towel and head for the bathroom and a nice long shower. When I get back to my room, Logan is on my bed, looking pensive.

“So about today’s plan. I think I should go ahead and break up with Bruno. I mean, that way he’ll still have time to find another date for—“

Logan cuts me off before I can finish the thought. “Why would you break up with Bruno?”

The question surprises me, I stop rummaging around in my closet to stare at Logan, whose face is stern.

“Um. Well, I thought you…and last night we…I’m confused.”

He nods, licking his lips and staring at his feet.

“Zoe, you know we can’t be together, right? Not really. Not in any sort of way that counts.”

I almost drop my towel. Crossing the room I flop down into the chair, my knees weak.

“But, I thought we…” I shake my head. “I thought you feel the same way about me that I feel about you.”

He crosses the room, kneeling at my feet and looking up at me, his eyes glassy.

“And I do Zoe. But, as you keep pointing out, I’m dead.”

I shrug, “So? We can work around that.”

He rolls his eyes. “It’s not a lifestyle choice. I’m not short or deformed or a Ginger. I’m dead. No one can see or hear me.”

“I can.”

“I know. And I can’t tell you how grateful I am for that, but Zoe, be realistic. We can’t date. We can’t go to the movies together; I can’t take you to Homecoming. I can’t even kiss you.”

I feel the blush flood my face. “Well, sometimes you can kiss me.”

He shakes his head, “And that’s weird, right? I mean, what is that about? I’m not coming back to life, I don’t even have a body. I’m nothing but a desiccated corpse.”

I frown. “You say desiccated corpse like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is. It means, I’m not getting more alive, I’m just getting better are being dead.”

I swallow. I’d already considered everything he’s saying and disregarded it.

“I don’t care. I just don’t want to lose you.”

“But you didn’t think that through. Sure, we can hang out here, in your room, alone. And then what happens when you go off to college? Do I just haunt your dorm? And what about when you grow up, start getting older? You are going to want a life and a family and those are all things I can’t give you, I can’t even be part of that.” He pauses, steeling his resolve. His next words are like a blade through my heart. “And it’s not fair of you to ask me to watch while you sacrifice your life for some kind of half-life with me.”

The tears spill over my eyes, rolling down my cheek. “Don’t you dare tell me what I’m going to want. Don’t you dare put this on me.”

He reaches up to touch me but I push through him, walking back to the closet.

“Fine. I get it.” I say with all the venom I can muster. The words going around and around in my head are the same over and over again. He doesn’t love me enough to want to stay with me.

“Zoe, please. I need you to understand.”

I turn back, squaring my shoulders. “I get it, Logan. I do. You need to move on. We both do. Fine.”

I drop my towel. Logan spins around so quickly I’m surprised he doesn’t fall over. I dress slowly, staring daggers into his back the whole time. My phone vibrates and I check it. It’s a text from Bruno wondering where I am. I text him back quickly.

Got up late. Be there soon. See you after first period.

I toss the phone in my messenger bag and quickly brush out and blow dry my hair. Logan watches me intensely the entire time. As soon as I’m ready, looking killer in my tall brown boots and a short denim skirt with a white camisole and light blue sweater, if I do say so myself, I head for my car without bothering to say a word to Logan.

“Are you angry?” he asks as I back quickly out of the driveway.

I slam the stick into gear and peel out.

“You are a complete idiot, you know that Logan?”

He sighs. “Yeah, I’m getting that. But can you do me one favor today?”

I crack my knuckles. “What is that?”

He pauses before answering. “Just don’t… don’t kiss Bruno, okay?”

I snort. Yeah, because I’m going to let some idiotic, insecure, douche grenade tell me what to do, or for that matter, who to kiss.

“Kiss my ass, Logan. We’re doing this my way now.”

He sits back in his seat, folding his arms across his chest looking downright grumpy. Good. A little suffering is good for the soul.

I walk in late to first period, but Coach Mason doesn’t seem to care. Next to me Carson leans over.

“Everything okay?” he whispers.

I nod. Logan, in all his dickishness has decided to take up residence inside the classroom, and he’s standing next to the door, glaring at me. I’m tempted to flip him off, but instead I smile widely at Carson.

“Fine. Thanks for asking.”

After class I wait for the rest of the people to file out, taking my time packing up my stuff. When they are all gone and Coach Mason has gone back into the tiny office adjoining the classroom I walk over to where Logan is still standing, still glaring.

“You might as well go home Logan,” I tell him sharply. “I don’t really need you here.”

He huffs. “I’m going to keep watching out for you, just like I promised. Even if you don’t like it.”

“Oh really? And what are you going to do if The Reaper does show up? Yell at him until he goes away?”

“Okay, I know you’re pissed off at me but—“

“No buts Logan. If you want to figure out who killed you so you can move on or whatever, you’d be a helluva lot more helpful over at The Tower, trying to jog your memory than you will be here, stalking me.”

“What if The Reaper comes back?”

“I’ve got that handled, just like I did before. So you can really go now. You know,” I pause, watching as Bruno heads for my classroom door, “Unless you feel like sticking around while I make out with my boyfriend.”

He makes a disgusted sound and leans over, “I do love you, Zoe. And no amount of bitchiness is going to change that.” Then he vanishes.

I take a deep breath as Bruno strides into the room, grabs me around my waist, lifts me off the ground and spins me around, finally lowering me into a deep, long kiss. He’s nothing like Logan really. He’s muscled differently and he smells like grass and grease. And even as he’s kissing me, and little butterflies are fluttering around in my stomach of their own accord, I can’t help but wish he were Logan.

Heaven help me.