Face Forward
Author's Note: This took a long time to write,
but only because I'm too lazy to actually finish any story once I've started
it. I wouldn't say this is my best work because, truth be told, I only wrote it
because I really liked the last line of the story. And no you can't stroll down
and look at it now. Read the story as much as you may not want to, and give me
some feedback, either by e-mail or reviews. Alright, enjoy!
* * *
Yesterday, the sun set quickly…
Night came early and twilight was nearly skipped altogether.
I knew something was happening. Though, that wasn't my first clue. I mean, I
had been noticing for a while.
Since Logan had returned they had been practically
inseparable, publicly exchanging gestures that were clearly platonic at first,
but then slowly grew more intimate. But they were so shy, so non-flamboyant
that no one would notice that they meant more; so slight that no one could tell
the difference… But I did.
I watched on as their relationship heightened, I was
practically the third member, but I never said anything. I never gave a warning
to the ones that this would affect the most; I even managed to keep the
severity of this from myself. But it's too late to delude myself now. There's
no turning my back anymore; they laid it out for me, for us.
Yesterday, I woke up early…
The nights were longer somehow, and it was still dark out. I
dressed mindlessly, like I always did because once I was distracted from sleep
there was no getting back to it.
I went downstairs to the kitchen, hoping to get something to
eat since I knew the dinning hall wasn't open yet, and heard a noise coming
from down the hall. The garage, I surmised.
I crept towards it, not at all knowing what to expect, but
then again, seeing him there didn't surprise me. Logan, loading bags as best he
could into the back of four by four. I walked straight up on him; apparently he
was too distracted to pick up my scent.
"Logan?" He jumped; I actually scared the Wolverine. He
turned around, relief suffused on his face.
"Kid, it's you," I crossed my arms over my chest, and gave
him an exasperated look. I do not appreciate being dismissed so easily.
When he went back to his work, I walked to his side and
leaned against the car, looking questionably at his task. "Logan, what are you
doing?" It had never occurred to me that he could be doing exactly what it
looked like: packing up; leaving. This was a sports utility vehicle and not a
motorcycle, after all. Plus, there were a lot of bags; Logan didn't own that
much stuff.
He turned to me, his face guilty. "That's right," He said
quietly. "I didn't tell you."
"Tell me what?" I asked innocently; the truth still seemed
murky to my new eyes. He touched my shoulder and shook his head.
"Not here. Help me with this and we'll go to my room," I
nodded and we finished the chore before heading to his sanctuary. He ushered me
in quickly and shut the door.
It smelled funny; different. I glanced around, looking for a
cause. The room was messy as all hell, his clothes thrown about on the floor: a
T-shirt, pair of jeans, and some flannels; just enough for one outfit. His bed
was unmade, the blanket and sheet crumpled at the end, but mostly hanging to
the floor.
I briefly realized that Logan was moving around me,
attempting to clean up. He chanced a glance at my face, and his seemed
guiltier.
He tossed the sheet and comforter back on the bed,
attempting to change its appearance from horribly grotesque to skill-lessly
made. He dumped his clothes in a pail on the other side of the room and came to
stand in front of me, offering me the bed. I declined.
"So," I began, noticing that he eyes had began to wander
everywhere but my face. "What haven't you told me?" He sat down—no, he dropped
down on the bed as if his knees had suddenly given out, and sighed as he ran
his hand down his face.
"Marie--" He looked up at me and sighed again. "Marie, we're
leaving," I smiled obliviously, not quite catching on. 'We?' Was he asking me
to go somewhere with him?
"What do you mean 'we're leaving?' " He sighed again,
looking to his feet.
"Me and Jean." My face went pale; I could feel it. Logan
looked at me again and reached for my hand. I pulled away.
"You and Jean," It was no secret that something had happened
between her and Scott, but I wasn't quite aware that they had split up. They
were always so civil; sitting together at breakfast, chatting as if nothing was
wrong, walking down the halls so closely that even Moses couldn't split them—
but I had to be stupid.
I knew about her and Logan; their pairing. I just never
figured out that the two couples, Logan and Jean, and Jean and Scott, were one
person short of happiness. Two couples equals four people, basic addition and I
missed it somehow.
"Marie," He stood up, a smile emerging hesitantly on his
face. "I've never felt this way before… with anyone…" He didn't mean it the way
I took it, I'm sure, but still it hurt me. "She's so— I don't know, perfect?"
Perfect, like I've never heard her described that way
before. In front of me Logan was bouncing around with all this elated energy. He
was happy, I should be happy too, for him… I wasn't.
"When I'm with her, nothing else matters. I…" Logan looked
up at a corner on the ceiling, his smile had deepened substantially. "I love
her… God, Marie," He looked back down at me, seemingly in a state of severe awe
and astonishment. "I've never said that before. But it's true…"
He moved back to the bed, lowering himself carefully, and
placed a not so steady hand on the side of his head before leaning the elbow on
his knee. I tried to look at his face for some shred of hope that this was
anything but what he was telling me it was, but it was covered, and then
something moved down his arm, distracting me from my duty.
I stared at it like the little object had grown a face and
began talking to me. It was so out of place, so odd. I didn't know how to react
to it; a tear, followed by several more. He cried for her and not me, and it
was obvious that what had never officially began between us was over. She had
been the one to 'civilize' him and for that I guess she deserved my prize.
We spoke some more, he apologize for his emotional outburst
and laughed as he sniffled. I just stood there somewhat numb.
"What about Scott?" Why did I ask that question? I could
tell he was thinking it too. "And me?"
Shit! I was nothing like Scott. I was not in a relationship
with one of the people planning on fleeing to the hills.
"I don't want to leave you, darlin'. And one of the reasons
that we are leaving is because of Scott," There goes that 'we' shit again. But
thankfully he didn't notice my little comparison to Scott.
It's funny, really. Even now, when I know I have lost all
chance of being with him, I'm still trying to keep him from finding out my
feelings. I mean, what do I have to lose? It's a coward's celebration and I'm
leading the party.
"Jean knows we're hurting him." I close my eyes and breathed
slowly.
Go. I had to go.
I told him so and he got up and threw his huge arms around
me. I could smell him and it hurt because I can smell her too.
I pulled away just before tears fell from my eyes and left,
not having the heart nor the self-deprecation to turn around and see if he was
watching me go.
Yesterday, I hit a brick wall…
I ran into Scott in the hall. He greeted me civilly and I
just stared at him, wondering if he knew. "Are you okay?" He asked.
With what…? I should have said it. The weather? My classes
in college? The fact that the people we love are leaving together?
I just nodded eagerly, a little too much so, and walked
around him. But I saw it; the tiredness in his frame. He knew something about
this.
I stayed in my room for the rest of the day and just thought
about it; Scott, in particular. Seeing him in the hall had tossed everything I
thought I knew about the unhappy couple under a microscope. I analyzed the
small details that had led me to believe that I still had a chance, a small one
if nothing else.
But, unfortunately, when you look for mistakes you usually
find them. The breakfast chats between him and Jean, so passionate, so
professional, were always one-sided, and the strolls down the hall with only a
hair's breadth of space between them were merely to keep others from hearing
their whispered words.
Yeah, it's true: love is blind… but denial is the mother of
the sightless.
Yesterday, the ground shook beneath my feet…
I heard the garage opening. It was around 2 in the morning.
I walked to my window, and saw the truck. It was the one I saw Logan with hours
earlier.
He didn't tell me he was leaving so soon. Well, I hadn't
exactly stuck around to find out. But wouldn't he at least stop by before he
left?
I ran downstairs just in time to see a brief glimpse of the
brake lights as they passed through the front gates and then quickly faded
away. They were gone.
I stood there staring at where they had been, unable to
move. It wasn't until I heard a small sniffle to my left that I realized that I
wasn't alone.
Scott was sitting on the step with a beer between his
thighs. When I looked at him he smiled sadly and held his beer out to me. I
walked to him and took it, taking a long drink as I sat down next to him.
Yesterday, I saw a man cry… And today my world ends…
~FINIS
