Losing Logan

Six

I fall asleep on the way home and at some point Logan vanishes. By the time I get home it’s growing dark and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Who knew shopping could be so much work?

Carlos helps me get the bags in before skipping off to gloat about his victory on his vlog. I’m sure he is going to tell the whole world about our little adventure. As soon as it’s online I watch, but there’s only a brief mention of the day’s shopping marathon. It’s mostly about the movie he saw last week, and of course, about the latest fashion blogs. I click off my computer and heat up some left over soup for dinner. I’m curled up on the sofa when mom gets home, quickly changes, then heads off to work the graveyard shift. I fall asleep watching SyFy not long after that.

“Hey, hey,” Logan calls.

I crack one eye open and he’s sitting beside me on the couch.

“Good, you’re awake.”

I flip him off.

“What time is it?”

He glances over his shoulder, “Um…two twenty.”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he smiles.

Reluctantly I sit up and flick the TV off, shuffling to my room like a zombie.

“Whoa, where are you going?”

“Bed. You know, where you go to sleep.”

He moves in front of me to cut me off, but I’m so tired I just step right through him.

“Hey,” he protests and follows me to my room.

I shut the door on him, as if that’s going to keep him out.

As expected he slides through the door just as I fall into bed.

“Seriously? I come to bring you good news and this is how you treat me?”

I close my eyes. “You’re still here. The news can’t be that good.”

He sits on the edge of my bed and though I don’t see it. I can sort of feel it, kind of the way you can feel when someone is watching you.

“Fine.” I sit up, pulling my thick green blanket around me to ward off his chill. “What is your news?”

“I was just at Bruno’s house—“

“Stalker.”

“Anyway. He was talking about having to be at lacrosse tryouts tomorrow. They are doing it before school starts this year.”

I yawn. “This is good news how?”

“Well, they are going to be announcing who is taking my place as team captain. And I’m sure it’s going to be Bruno. The guys love him.”

I wave my hand, “Again, this matters to me because…?”

“Because he was talking to Zach about how lucky Zach is to have his girlfriend coming to support him. It’s sort of a tradition that the girls come and watch tryouts, good luck and all.”

“Really?”

He nods excitedly. “And since Bruno doesn’t have a girlfriend, if you were to happen to be there, I dunno maybe working on something for the newspaper or the student council, you do that stuff right?”

I nod.

“Well, if you were there to wish him luck, maybe stick around and congratulate him after he makes captain…”

I sigh. I’m still not following his train of thought.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll ask you out. He already likes you and—“

“Wait, all I have to do to get him to ask me out is show up at practice? Is he totally desperate?”

Logan sits back, rolling his eyes.” No Zoe. He’s a guy. We really aren’t complicated creatures. When a pretty girl shows interest, maybe drops a few compliments, we are like human putty.”

Ah I see now. “So feed his ego a little.”

“Exactly.”

I’m trying to decide how to handle this new bit of information. I eyeball the red dress hanging on my door.

“Fine. But I’m not going to giggle and bat my eyelashes like a freaking idiot.”

He lowers his chin, looking at me seriously.

“One other thing you should do.”

“What?”

“Try to go five minutes without insulting anyone, okay?”

Five minutes with no insults? That might actually kill me.

He chuckles at my reaction.

“You can do it. You do it with Carlos all the time.”

I swallow. Carlos is different. He’s like…family.

“No promises. Now get out of my bed so I can sleep.”

Logan gets up and heads for the chair.

“No, like out of my room.”

He looks back at me, his eyes sad.

“I don’t really have anywhere else to go. My parents packed up my room today. It’s just boxes now.”

And in that moment, I feel like the biggest bitch alive.

“Okay.”I say, lying back down. Then, as I watch him fold himself into my chair, I realize he’s going to spend all night there. Just like that, staring off into the dark. Reaching over I grab the tiny remote off my night stand and flick the TV on.

“What channel?”

He looks up appreciatively. “Try USA. They have decent shows usually.”

I set the remote back down, roll over so my back is to the TV and curl up in a ball, pulling the covers over my head.

The light is already streaming in my window when I finally stretch and sit up in bed. Logan is gone, but probably not for long. I’m halfway through a bowl of Cheerios by the time he reappears.

“Sleep okay?” he asks sitting beside me at the kitchen table.

I answer with my mouth full. “Yep. Thanks.”

“Good. You needed your beauty sleep.”

I frown around my spoon. “What are you trying to say?”

He holds up his hands in surrender.

“Nothing. I meant nothing. You look quite rejuvenated today. That’s all.”

He’s probably right. I didn’t have any bad dreams last night, for the first time in as long as I can remember. Though I hate to admit it, I think having him there helped. Made me feel…safe somehow. Which is stupid because, well, it’s Logan.

“What time are tryouts today?”

“Four,” he answers, eyeballing my bowl.

“Hungry?”

He cocks his head to the side. “I don’t know. I can’t tell if I’m actually hungry, or if I’m just remembering what it feels like to be hungry.”

I pick a cheerio out of the bowl and motion for him to open his mouth, which he does. I toss the tiny O and it lands right in his mouth, then flies out the back of his head and sticks to the wall behind him.

He turns to look at it and we both burst into hysterical laughter until my sides hurt and I can’t breathe.

Finally we calm ourselves and he waits in the bedroom while I shower and dress. I choose a soft yellow skirt and my new black ballet flats. Logan picks out a deep green ruffled shirt which I slide on over my yellow tank top. I carefully pull my hair back into a loose, casual braid. When I’m done, I stare at myself in the mirror.

“Wow, invasion of the body snatchers,” I murmur.

“You look great,” Logan assures me.

I have to admit, I do look pretty good. It’s not what I’m used to, but it isn’t bad either. As a matter of fact, I really like the new look. For the insane amounts of cash I dropped, I sure as hell better.

“So,” I begin hesitantly. “I was thinking maybe we should go to The Tower.”

He folds his arms across his chest, his face tightening into a scowl.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking the same thing. Maybe I can jog my memory.”

I nod. The old Apple Mountain Radio Tower is a solid half hour drive into the woods. I’ve only been once but I remember it not being terribly hard to get to. It used to be a pretty popular party spot, but a few years back some drunk kid wandered off and got attacked by a mountain lion. Since then, few people go up there. The Tower is mostly overgrown with brush now, and the old foot bridge is in tatters with lots of missing boards and stuff. I’d gone up with a volunteer group last year to put up warning signs and rope off the entrance to the bridge. Part of my community service for my college application. The Tower would be the perfect place to kill someone.

“Any idea why you might go up there?” I ask, wondering if Logan made frequent visits to the place.

He rubs the side of his face. “Well, Kaylee and I used to drive up there sometimes. You know. To be alone.”

I should have guessed.

“But when we went up together, we always took her Jeep. I didn’t want to scratch up my car,” He adds thoughtfully.

“That’s weird. You sure you never went up there alone? Or with anyone else?”

“Not that I remember. Why?”

I walk out to the garage and dig through the recycle bin. There, buried under a week’s worth of newspaper, is what I’m looking for. I pull it out and bring it inside, holding up the front page. There, in grainy black and white, is a photo of police standing around the entrance to the bridge, wrapping it with crime scene tape. And in the upper left corner, is the unmistakable hood of Logan’s new Dodge Charger, complete with the medal from last year’s Lacrosse championship hanging from his rear view mirror.

“Because they found your car at the scene. When you went missing, they used the low jack on your car to find you. I remember reading about it.”

He leans forward, examining the image. Then he shakes his head.

“I just don’t remember.”

“It’s okay,” I say, folding up the paper and stuffing it in my purse. “Let’s go have a look. Maybe something will jog your memory.”

I grab my keys off the counter and we head out to my car. As soon as the garage door opens he looks over his shoulder and almost screams.

“Wait.”

I slam on the brakes and follow his gaze. I don’t see anything but empty sidewalk behind us.

“What?”

For a second I’m afraid I’ve almost hit Brim or something terrible.

He blinks, rubs his eyes with his thumbs, then looks back again.

“I thought I saw something.”

My eyes widen. He shakes his head.

“Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“You sure?”

He nods, not looking entirely convinced. I grab my sunglasses off the console and slip them over my eyes as I drop it back in reverse and pull out. Logan doesn’t say anything the whole way up the mountain except occasionally pointing me in the right direction when I come to a fork in the road. He just rests his head against the window and stares off. I’m busy looking at him and not paying attention to the increasingly bumpy dirt road and I hit a rut, making the car jump and Logan’s head bounces off the glass with a thud.

“Ouch,” he mutters, rubbing his forehead. I slam on the breaks, reach out and try to touch him, but my hand passes right through feeling nothing but cold air where he should be.

“What are you doing?” he demands, looking at me like I’ve totally lost my mind.

“You felt that.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So? You felt that. Like, you felt it.”

His face falls into a surprised expression. “Oh, yeah I did.” He experimentally raises a clenched fist and tries to tap on the window, but just passes through it. “Weird. I wonder why.”

I pucker my mouth and resume the drive. A vague theory is forming in my head, but now is not the time to test it. A few more yards and I pull into a narrow gravel parking area and stop the car. Climbing out, I can see the bright sun directly overhead, but I can’t see The Tower. The trees are taller and fuller than I remember and I have no idea which way to go from here.

Curse my naturally poor sense of direction.

Logan steps out of the car and walks forward. “This way.”

He walks through the trees without hesitation. I however, have to push through the foliage like I’m on safari.

“Why do I never have a good machete when I need one?” I mutter, making Logan chuckle ahead of me.

Soon I can hear the rushing water of the river, though it’s still a few hundred yards before I can see it. Then, suddenly, the trees are behind us and the tall iron tower appears in the middle of the woods. There are bushes and tall grass growing along the bottom, with vines of ivy climbing up its monstrous legs. The once silver metal has corroded to a rusty patina and in places it’s covered with a living carpet of spongy looking green moss.

It’s beautiful, in a very ominous, terrifying way.

“Hold on.” I scan the area, walking toward the still taped off bridge. “In the picture, your car was…” I find the matted down grass and follow it to the recent tire tracks. “here. Why in the world would you have driven through the brush, tearing up the paint on your car, instead of just parking over in the gravel?”

I look up, but he’s staring over at the bridge. The metal cables look mostly intact and a bit rusty, but the wooden boards are old and splintered, just as I remembered.

“I have no idea,” Logan says, not looking at me.

I don’t see anything lying on the ground as I scan the area. Anything Logan might have left here was probably taken as evidence by the police.

“I’m going to climb up and see if I can spot anything from the top,” I say not waiting for a response. Pushing my way through the wild tangle of leaves and branches I find the rungs of the ladder attached to the side of the tower. I grab ahold of the ladder and cry out. A sliver of metal is poking out and it has sliced into the tender skin of my palm, causing me to jerk my hand away. I hiss, stopping to check it out.

“You alright?” Logan asks, making his way over to me.

I cuss colorfully. “I’m fine. It’s not deep.”

It just stings like a son of a bitch.

Careful to avoid the sharp protrusion I climb up the first few rungs. The ladder echoes with metallic clangs as my shoes touch the bars. I look down and see Logan staring up at me.

Right up my skirt.

“Hey,” I call, grabbing my skirt and tucking it between my legs in the back.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not looking up your skirt Zoe.”

“Whatever perv. Go check out the bridge.”

“I’m not going on the bridge,” he says folding his arms across his chest.

I glare down. “Are you kidding me? You’re already dead. What’s the worst that could possibly happen?”

He doesn’t move. I growl.

“Fine, you insecure butt clown. Just stand there and let me do all the work.”

I hear him mutter something rude and head for the bridge. As soon as I’m confident he’s not staring at my underwear I continue to climb. About halfway up, the ladder opens into an internal staircase inside the skeletal tower. I step carefully onto the diamond steel platform and grab the rail with my uncut hand. Ascending the stairs with greater confidence I make my way to the top of the tower. The metal roof is low and I wonder briefly how they used to get equipment up here at all. The last platform is bare except for the steel railing all the way around and the long rails holding the roof up. Leaning over the railing I can see for miles. Mountains hover in the distance. I can see not just the river closest to me, but far down stream where the two rivers merge.

“See anything?” Logan calls, shielding his hand with his eyes as he looks up at me.

“Nope. You?”

“Nothing.”

I turn around to head down when I feel something under my foot. I think it might be a pebble, but when I look down I see a delicate silver chain sticking out under my shoe. Reaching down I pick up the broken chain and the small silver pendant that has broken off. It’s a mangled silver leaf.

I hurry down the ladder and show the necklace to Logan.

“This was up there. Do you recognize it?”

He stares at it for a second and his face brightens, then falls.

“It’s Kaylee’s. Or it was.”

“Was?”

He snaps his fingers. “I remember now. She gave it back to me when she dumped me last week.”

I straighten, tucking it in my pocket. “Wow. Didn’t see that coming.”

He looks around. “But that happened at her house. So how did that get here?”

I shrug. “Maybe you brought it when you came?”

“And put it all the way up there?” he asks, giving me a duh stare.

“Good point.” He pulls his fingers through his hair.

“I’d forgotten about that. About her breaking up with me.”

I jerk my head towards the car and start walking.

“So, what happened?” I ask, morbidly curious. They always seemed like the perfect couple.

He stops at the car door before answering. “I accused her of cheating on me. I found something…a text on her phone. Yeah we were at her house and she went to get a snack and left her phone. Someone texted her, something about getting rid of me so they could meet up later. I confronted her and she told me…”

I’m completely curious now. “Told you what?”

He clears his throat, “She told me that she met someone who had his life together. Said she needed someone who could understand her on a more mature level. We argued and she took it off and handed it to me.”

His expression is distant as he continues.

“And I left.” He snaps his fingers, “But before I did, I hung it inside her car, from the mirror.”

“So she had it when you died?”

He sighs. “Maybe. I don’t remember anything after that.”

I nod, leaning against the car door and patting the roof. “Yeah, but you’re remembering, which is good. It means you can remember. I’m sure it’ll all start coming back now.”

He leans forward, moving through the car into the seat. “I hope you’re right.”

I open the door and climb in, sticking the key in the ignition. “It means something else too.”

He looks at me curiously.

I sigh. “It means I need to figure out a way to talk to Kaylee.”