Author's Note: Thanks everyone for reading, reviewing, and favoriting! You're all awesome for that! *hugs!* I hope you enjoy this next chapter! Let me know what you think. Do you like the back stories? What do you think about this new side of Logan? Do you even like this chapter? Leave a review!
Again, I do not own these actors' photos. I also don't own those fonts. I don't own/work for Cambridge or Anglia Ruskin. I don't own Coke. I don't own Boeing. I also did not invent the term YOLO, I just really like it. (Do I have to cite that? I dunno...) I don't own the wizarding world either. I also don't own any airports, especially not the Philadelphia International Airport. I'm just a loser with a computer, lots of free time, and a crazy imagination. (I should think about getting a life.)
So enjoy chapter 5! :)
Chapter 5: YOLO and All That
“Mummy, what she say?” a little girl with a dark braid down her back asks her mother.
At that, everything returns to normal. Toilets flush, women wash their hands, and chatter erupts again.
I take the sopping wet paper towel from the sink and throw it away. I quickly wash my hands and stare at my reflection again.
Okay. You are okay, I chant in my mind.
“Are you all right?” a woman asks me hesitantly from a few feet away.
I nod, finally finding my composure. “Yes, I’m okay,” I reply coolly. She nods, satisfied with the answer, and leaves the bathroom. I turn back to the mirror and fix my makeup, which has smeared again. New eyeliner. New mascara. New foundation. It’s facade for my face.
I swiftly walk through the crowd of women; luckily, this is a new group, so none of them heard my outburst...I hope. They don’t give me a second look, so I suppose not. I push through the masses, and I start running. I don’t stop until I’ve put enough distance between myself and the loo, the memories, the pain. I stop in the middle of the walkway through the gates to catch my breath.
If I just died, the pain would go away.
Oh, Merlin, SHUT UP. You’re just being ridiculous now. Ridiculous and stupid, that’s what you are. Stop.
I take a last big gulp of air and start walking around, looking for Logan. A little ways down, I find him in line at a sub shop, talking to the person behind the counter.
Three years previous...
I walk into the restaurant Liesel and I had gone to the first night I stayed with her. I take a seat at the bar and pull out my notebook and a pencil, both of which had been supplied by Kendra; quills and parchment would be way bizarre, she told me.
“What can I get you?” the waiter behind the bar asks. He has a friendly smile on his face, surrounded by light brown stubble. His hazel eyes flit between my notebook and me, and he has short, thick light brown hair.
I tap my chin thoughtfully with my pen. “Mmm...a Coke and an Italian sub.”
He smiles and nods. “You got it.” He turns and waves to someone at the door. “Hey, Logan!”
Logan runs his fingers through his dark hair and smiles. This smile seems friendly, sincere—not cocky and superior like the night I met him. I like this look on him better. He seems...pleasant.
“Hey, Rick,” he says, taking the bar stool next to me. “The usual, to-go.” He doesn’t notice or recognize me, which is fine by me. I try to write in my notebook, but I can’t help listening in on their conversation.
“Don’t you have class?” Rick the waiter asks, already scribbling the memorized order down on a notepad.
Logan nods. “That’s what the ‘to-go’ is for, Rick. C’mon!” He smiles teasingly.
Rick laughs and puts our orders in. “This is why you’re the scholarly one.”
Logan chuckles. “Hey, tell my mom that next time she calls?” He rolls his eyes. “She thinks I’m wasting my time here. Could’ve gone to Harvard, she says. Could’ve gone to med school.”
Rick shakes his head. “Making me feel bad about not going to university, eh?” He laughs good-naturedly. “Cambridge is one of the best schools in England. She should be proud.”
Logan shrugs. “Honestly, I just came here for a change of pace.”
Rick winks. “And a change of pace you got, right?”
Logan laughs. “Oh, for sure. These London girls know their way around.” He sighs happily.
Unable to hear anymore, I comment, “You are disgusting.”
The guys look at me as if I’ve materialized right before their eyes. But as quickly as this expression comes upon Logan’s face, it’s gone and replaced by that cocky smile I hate.
He snaps his fingers and points at me. “Chrissie, right?”
I raise my eyebrows. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You are such a tool.”
He frowns. “So that’s not your name?”
“Oh, mate!” Rick laughs, elbowing him in the arm.
“Seriously, ‘forgetting’ my name is just downright rude,” I say, making air quotes with my fingers.
“Fine, then, little Miss Cassie,” he says as if my name puts a bad taste in his mouth. “You think you’re oh-so better than me.”
“Oh, I know I am,” I say with a laugh.
“Burn!” Rick exclaims with a chuckle.
Logan glares at his friend then turns his attention to me, leaning over and looking me in the eye. His brown eyes startle me, and I realize that they’re this really pretty milk chocolate colour. “Why do you hate me so much?”
I turn my face away. “I don’t hate you, I just hate how you act. You’re such a pompous git, and it’s absolutely revolting.”
“So you’re completely turned off by me,” he says.
I glare at him, and he stares back with pretty, innocent eyes. “Is that all you got out of that statement?”
“Okay, slip of the tongue,” he says. “Because I am a pretentious ‘git.’ That how you say it? Git? Sounds like a cowboy saying ‘get.’” He laughs.”Git. Get. Git. Get.”
I want to smile so bad because he’s right. It does kind of sound like a cowboy. Plus, his British and Western accents are quite humorous.
“Aha! I’ve made a breakthrough!” he exclaims, noticing my struggle not to smile. He flashes his sincere smile at me. “How about we start over, okay? I can be pleasant if I want to.” He holds out his hand. “Friends?”
I frown. “I don’t think Liesel would like it.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m not going to fuck you. I’m just asking you to be my friend. It won’t kill her. Don’t even know what she’s so wound up about anyway.”
I groan. “You’re quite oblivious, do you know that?”
“What?”
“She thought you were in love with her!” I say. “The night you two first met, like, a couple months ago, it was love at first sight for her. She thought you really liked her, and you’d shag her, eventually, you know? Liesel’s a firm believer in the five date rule. Anyway, you didn’t. You two dated for two months! After every date, you just brought her up to your room, snogged with her a little, then sent her on her way. I mean, who does that?!”
“A guy who doesn’t want to hurt a girl, maybe?” he says, narrowing his eyes at me.
“Are you stupid? You totally hurt her!”
“But at least I didn’t take away something that means a lot to her.” He frowns at me. “I’m not a man whore, you know.” I stare at him, speechless. He smirks as Rick slides my Coke and sandwich onto the table. “When you speak, are you always so thorough at getting your point across?” he teases. He reaches over and steals a fry. “I’m not what she says I am. I don’t screw people over. That’s not me. I’m just here to have a little fun. YOLO and all that. At this point, I’m not settling down.”
I raise an eyebrow. “YOLO?”
“You Only Live Once,” Logan says, taking another fry. “You never heard of the term?”
I shake my head and use a Muggle phrase I’ve heard Liesel say a couple times: “I live under a rock. Sorry.”
He laughs. “Well, as your friend, I think I should change that. I also think you should give me part of your sandwich.”
I giggle and break off a fourth of the sub. “Here,” I say, holding it out to him.
He shakes his head. “No, I was just kidding!” But I can see his mouth slightly watering. Ugh, boys are such pigs.
“Just take it,” I laugh. “I don’t have a large stomach.”
He sizes me up and winks. “I can tell.” He laughs and takes the sandwich. “I’m just kidding, of course. And thanks.”
I grin. “What’re friends for?”
He takes a bite. “Mmm, I luff Ithalian suvs,” he says, his mouth full of food. I make a face, and he swallows. “They’re my favorite sandwich.”
“Me too!” I say. “Hmm...perhaps you aren’t so bad after all.”
He grins. “Told you so.” He points at my notebook. “Studying?”
“Um...yes,” I reply hesitantly. I don’t want to tell him it’s full of my lame poetry.
“Haven’t seen you around school,” he says. “Where do you go?”
Oh, shit! I don’t know any schools! I tell myself frantically. I can’t say Cambridge. That’s where he goes. Uh... Um... Oh, where’d Kendra go? Shit, she didn’t because of the baby! Um...
“Anglia Ruskin,” I reply quickly, remembering Liesel telling me about it when I first arrived.
“Yeah, obviously,” he says with a laugh. “Silly me. There are only two universities around here. Well, what are you majoring in?”
“Literature,” I blurt out.
He grins. “Very cool. Math’s my thing. Written anything worthwhile?”
I think about the poetry in the notebook. “Not really.”
“Practice makes perfect, they say,” he replies. “I bet you’re just being hard on yourself, though.”
“Yeah, probably,” I say. I smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he says with a grin. Rick places a brown paper bag on the bar, and he takes it. “Well, I’ll see you around, Cassie. Um...can I have your number?” He runs his fingers through his hair and says under his breath, “Damn, can’t remember the last time I said that.”
“Uh, sure,” I say. I go to rip a piece of paper from the notebook, but Logan stops me and hands me his phone.
“Here,” he laughs, “I think this’ll be easier.”
I laugh weakly and take the phone, which feels odd and foreign in my hands. “Um.”
He frowns. “You weren’t kidding when you said you lived under a rock.” He takes the phone back, slides up the front, and presses some buttons very quickly. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that it’s magic.
“What’s your number?” he asks.
I rack my brain, trying to remember Liesel’s landline number. She and Kendra don’t use it much; they’re always on their cell phones. “Seven, one, four, three, two, two, one.”
Logan types this in as quickly as I say it. “All right, cool. I’ll hit you up later.” He smiles and leaves the restaurant.
I walk over to the sub shop and take Logan’s hand. He turns and smiles at me. “Here you go,” he says, handing me a plastic bag. Inside the bag is a large sub neatly wrapped in white paper and a soda bottle. He grins. “A Coke and an Italian sub, your favorite. If I remember correctly, this is exactly what you got the second time we met.”
“Looks like your memory serves you well,” I reply, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks.”
“Here’s your other Italian sub, sir,” the person behind the counter says, handing Logan a bag similar to mine. “That’ll be ten pounds.”
Logan takes the bag with a smile and puts down the money. “Thanks very much,” he says, taking the receipt. We walk away, hand-in-hand. “So, uh, what gate is it? I totally forgot.”
We stop and I dig the boarding pass out of my pocket. “Gate...twenty-three.”
“Oh, right here, then,” he says, pointing to the sign above our heads. We laugh and walk into the waiting area on our right. There are too many people and not enough seats. I spot three kids sharing one seat; they’re all complaining loudly to their mother and daring to fight each other for the chair. Luckily, nothing happens between the three. Logan and I end up sitting against the window, facing the waiting area. He turns around and taps the glass, pointing at the plane connected to our gate. “See that? That’s a Boeing 777.”
“Your mum works for Boeing, right?” I say. He nods. “Makes sense,” I continue. “You’re always pointing out planes and helicopters and telling me their bloody names.”
He laughs. “I thought you said that was cool.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.”
“You know what could get me to sleep at night—”
I groan. “We’re not having sex yet! How many times do I have to bleeding tell you? I want to wait until our honeymoon.” I smile and brush my lips against his. “It’ll be extra special.”
He sighs. “Yeah, yeah, ‘special.’ Whatever. This better be worth the wait.” He frowns and crosses his arms.
I laugh. “You’ll get what you’ll get.”
“C’mon, can’t we just do it?” he asks. “YOLO and all that. We could die on this plane, and you’ll still be a virgin.”
Um, about that...
I push the thought away.
“You want to right here, right now?” I ask him, horrified. “What about the children?!”
He tries not to laugh. “Taken out of context!” he proclaims. I giggle and lean on his shoulder. He sighs and slumps down against the window. “Fine. I’ll wait.”
I smooth his dark hair. “Aww, that’s a good boy.” He scowls.
The gate attendant clears her throat and taps on the microphone. A loud squeal goes through the gate area, and everyone screams and covers their ears. She seems unaffected by this as she says, “Attention passengers! We’ll now be boarding gate twenty-three, with full service to Philadelphia International Airport.”
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