Logan
"Veronica…"
"Shhhhhh. I'm almost done."
Flopping down on the bed, I watch her hunch closer to the computer screen, her head moving ever so slightly as she mutters, frantically pounding on the keys to the keyboard. The fact that she talks out loud to herself as she works was a bit of an annoying surprise earlier in the week, but a quick trip to the commissary for a set of headphones, so I could listen to music while I studied next to her, solved that minor problem pretty quickly. I also found out that she chews the tops of her pens and pencils while she studies so we had to designate some of our allotted supplies as "hers" (with chew marks) and "his" (all the ones without) with teasing of possible restitution in the form of kisses, should she wander over to my desk and steal a fresh one to chew.
The one habit I cannot abide or joke around is the fact that she's a book murderer. When she dog-eared the corner of her book before bed on Monday night, I gasped in horror that I could be paired with such a person while she just rolled her eyes at me. Now I can't help but fixate on all the bent corners in the books stacked on her desk, and I desperately want to open each page, fold the corners back, and flag them with Post-It Notes as the universe intended.
"We're going to be late."
She swivels in her chair and frowns. "We won't be late if you don't keep interrupting me. This is due tomorrow, and I don't want to be up all night working on it."
"You need to edit it anyway. Why don't you just finish then? I mean, you still have to get dressed."
Veronica glances down at her jeans and a bright green t-shirt, the V between her eyebrows deepening. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing now? It's just Wallace and Jackie, not Dean O'Dell's we're going to for dinner."
Running my hand over my brown dress shirt, I graze a piece of lint and I pick it off, tossing it on the floor. "This is our first couples thing. I thought it would be nice to dress up, that's all I'm saying."
"Logan, up until about two hours ago when I showered, I was still in yoga pants and your hoodie. This is dressed up." She turns her back to me again with a dismissive wave. "Now stop talking and let me finish this paragraph, then we can go."
I push my tongue against the inside of my cheek to try and stifle my grin. On Wednesday, I came home from a late class to find her sitting cross-legged on her chair at her desk, typing away at an assignment, the hood of my baggie grey Neptune Pirates hoodie pulled over her head. She said she had been cold, and since I had dropped it on the floor on my side of the bed near our desks, she just scooped it up and put it on for warmth. And she looked so damn cute in the massive blanket of grey fabric that I didn't have the heart to take it back. Which maybe I should have because now she seems to have confiscated it as "hers" permanently.
Throughout this week, I've tried to be on my best behaviour and not do anything too overtly annoying, but I can see my little quirks may be getting to her also. She does this thing where she goes silent and just gives me this look…like I kicked her dog or something. That was definitely the feeling I got when she found my wet towel tossed onto our bed when we got back from classes on Thursday. Which didn't help the fact that I left the toilet seat up that morning, and she felt the need to point it out to me too?
"There!" She proclaims as she turns off the monitor screen. "Done! For now, anyway."
The chair rolls back as she stands and walks over to her dresser. Opening the middle drawer, she pulls out a green and pink striped fitted hoodie and pulls it on, zipping it up partway. "See. All ready to go."
Standing, I smooth my jeans, and she comes over to meet me. When I straighten, she rises on her tip-toes and gives me a quick peck on my lips, her arms draping around my neck. Veronica's already figured out that a kiss and some affection goes a long way to smooth any minor annoyance I may have, and I'm not complaining when I wrap my arms around her waist as she grins at me.
"I hope tonight will be fun. Think they'll play board games? Maybe Twister? Ohhhhh…or poker? We haven't played poker since Lilly left for college."
When I kiss her on the nose, she wrinkles it and giggles as I pull her closer. "I'm sure it will be a fun night. Wallace is a really decent guy, and the way he talks about Jackie, I think it'll be a good evening."
"Oh? How does he talk about her?"
"Same way I talk about you. Like we're two lunk-heads who can't believe their luck to be paired with such amazing women."
Veronica's tongue darts across her lips, and her eyes sparkle with delight. Her nose brushes mine, playfully, as she hovers close to me.
"Flattery will eventually get you everywhere."
"I sure as hell am hoping…"
She cuts off my words as her lips finally press against mine, lingering, as if waiting for me. When I part my lips, her tongue immediately sweeps through to find mine. My hand wanders up to her back, and my palm spreads across, pressing her chest to mine, feeling her heartbeat firm against my ribs. Her breath hitches, but neither of us makes a move to part as warmth spreads over my body. She nips at my lower lip, and I moan. That little shot of pain at just the right moment triggers every endorphin in my body, and I find myself once again suppressing the urge to lead her into bed.
Instead, I pull away from her, and she groans, a pout passing on her red, swollen lips. It's a look I'm getting used to seeing after this week, and it brings me no end of joy to see her disappointment that we've lost that connection, for now.
"We're going to be very late if we keep this up."
"Logan, we can see their house from our window." She lets go of me to gesture towards the window on her side of the bed, and I chuckle, taking my opportunity to step out of her grasp.
"Maybe so, but unless you're suggesting we jump from said window, we still need to walk there." I give her a quick peck on the forehead, and she scowls as I step around her towards our closet.
The sliding doors squeak when I push them aside and grab my jacket and then Veronica's. She squeezes past me and grabs her black and white sneakers, heading back to the bed to sit on the edge and put them on. I get mine and bee-line to one of the dinette chair to sit down. With the kitchenette on the other side of it, we realized that our entryway is so narrow there was no way two people can do anything in it. When she rises, I grab her jacket and offer it to her with a smile, and she returns my smile and steps closer, turning around and pausing as I hold it open for her to slip into, always the right arm first, then the left. I pull the collar to her neck and kiss her cheek, watching a pink tinge rise on her skin.
"Thank you," she whispers and steps away to fetch her purse.
I did this on Monday as we hurried to get out the door for our first class. It's reminiscent of something I once saw on set in a movie my parents were making, and even at a young age, it made an impression. Now, in real life, I've adapted it for us as part of our routine together, and I can't get over how natural it feels.
"Ready to be dazzling?" she asks, grabbing her keys off her dresser.
"Always," I reply with a wink.
Veronica
"That was amazing. You guys are so lucky to have a real kitchen," I state as I waddle into the living room, happily stuffed with roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and three-bean salad. "My compliments, Chef Fennel."
Wallace claps his hands together and rubs them quickly together. "Just wait until you taste my apple pie later."
Jackie sits at the corner of the loveseat and laughs, gesturing for me to join her, and for a second, I pause, glancing at Logan, a tickle of sadness in my belly that he was being led to a folding chair across the coffee table from me. During dinner, Logan reached under the small table and rested his hand on my knee, and my heart began to race. Throughout the conversation about all of our classes, I found myself distracted by this simple touch. In the past week, I realized how much he enjoyed touching me—how his hand would find mine when we were walking, or he would linger just long enough when he handed me my coffee in the morning. My favourite, though, was how his large hand would find the small of my back when we would kiss and spread wide to press my hips towards his. When he did this, I wanted to forget all about going to classes or homework and just stay lip-locked with him for hours.
"I am pretty lucky that Wallace is a good cook," Jackie smiles, first at me and then to Wallace. "My course load was insanity this week, and if he wasn't presenting me with food, I probably would have starved."
Wallace blows her a kiss and a wink. "Gotta keep yours and baby's strength up. This is just the start of the race. We have another six months before the finish line." Shooting finger guns at Logan, he chuckles. "Another beer?"
"Sure. That'd be great. Thanks, Wallace."
Wallace turned his fingers to me and grins. "Another glass of wine, Veronica?"
"No, but thank you, Wallace. When we get home tonight, I still have the assignment to edit. Another glass of wine may not help with that process."
"Or it could help a lot." Jackie laughs. "I know how you feel, though. I have two chapters from my design class that I have to read before bed tonight."
"I love how you arranged your desks in your bedroom, Jackie. I never even thought to move ours from where they were placed." I shake my head and shrug. "The difference between someone getting advice from a magazine and someone who is in a design program."
"Thank you. The house isn't big, and it's kind of narrow because of the shipping containers, but we're making it work."
"Well, I love what you did with the baby's room. Even though it's small, it feels warm and cozy with the colours you chose." I'm only slightly jealous that Jackie managed to pull off the contemporary feeling I was going for in subdued hues of browns and beige for the baby's room, The tiny room had a beautiful white crib, rocking chair, and dresser while the walls and accents were all different shades of brown, which somehow worked even if they were a mishmash of things they found at the department store. On the wall, she had painted a grey elephant, monkey, and giraffe that I was in awe of.
"Thanks. I actually was hoping that Orwell would have placed me in the visual arts, but since that didn't happen, I'm content with the fashion design program instead." She shrugs, her eyes looking towards the ground. "Artists are chosen few and far between anyway, and with the regulations on what can and cannot be produced, I would probably end up just painting the same landscape over and over again."
"I'm sorry that you didn't get placed in your dream career." I'm hesitant in my words, choosing carefully as I go. "But you have such an amazing eye for detail that I'm sure it will translate to design. What you've done with your bedroom and the baby's room and every other room, in fact, is just incredible."
Jackie raises her head and her smile seems a little forced. "Thank you. I'm glad you like what I did with this recycled shack."
"It may not be huge, but your place is definitely bigger than our little room. You guys should come over and stick your head in and see it. It will take all of three seconds to show you around," Logan offers with a chuckle.
Returning from the kitchen, Wallace hands Logan his beer and slaps him on the shoulders. "It's not the size of the home that matters, it's what you do with it."
We all laugh as Wallace sits in the chair near Logan's and takes a quick sip of his beer.
"Well, I'm still jealous of your queen-sized bed," Logan states, taking a quick sip of his beer as well. "My six foot body is crammed into a double bed with Veronica. Most of the time, my feet are dangling off the edge halfway through the night."
"We make it work, though," I state.
"Yeah. We do." For a second, Logan's eyes lock with mine, sending shivers down my back. The best part of my day is now crawling into bed and laying in his arms. By the way his eyes light up as he stares back at me, I feel like it could be his too.
"We might as well be in a double bed since Wallace likes to sleep spread-eagle and take up most of the room," Jackie tosses out, a wry grin on her face.
Wallace just shakes his head and laughs, his palm covering part of his face. "Are we really going there? Because I will bring up the ten-thousand bottles of makeup stuff that I now have to deal with in the bathroom."
"I'm sorry I had to." Jackie laughs. "I mean, come on, let's all be honest, figuring out how to live together is not always easy. Am I right?"
"I don't know what you're talking about—" Logan takes a sip of his beer, a gleam of jackass in his eyes. "Veronica is delightful, as am I. We've had no problems adjusting whatsoever."
I can't help the snort of laughter that escapes me, and everyone joins in, laughing. "You're right, dear," I drawl, batting my eyelashes. "You leave toast crumbs on the counter, and I clean them up because they're disgusting. It works so well."
Logan presses his palm to his chest and gasps in mock indignation, and another wave of laughter rises from all of us.
"I swear, if we have a boy and I spend my entire life putting the toilet seat down, I'll be pissed," Jackie adds, and I clap my hands together, giggling.
"Yes! Oh my God, yes."
"Hey! If this was a true 50/50 partnership, you would both put the seat up for us after you're done," Wallace shoots back.
"That made no sense when you tried to use it with me the first time, Wallace, and it makes no sense now." Jackie wags her finger at him. "Veronica agrees with me. Put the damn seat down."
"I do agree." Waving my hand at Logan, I wink. "Same goes for you."
"Fine. I'll do that if you stop eating in bed. You complain about my toast crumbs, yet I find chip bits in the sheets."
I gasp as if Logan revealed one of my most intimate secrets, and I see in the way he narrows his gaze that he knows he's got me. Just like in Debate Club. But unlike the Debate Club, there are no rules.
"Yes, well, you talk in your sleep," I shoot back. "All I hear in the middle of the night is mutter, mutter, mutter."
Logan's face scrunches up, completely incredulous about what I'm saying. "No, I don't."
"Yes. You do. And it's been waking me up."
"I…" His mouth drops open, his eyes wide for a split second as if he remembers something but then shakes his head, avoiding my gaze. "I'll try to shut up." He brings his beer to his lips and takes a deep, long swig, downing almost the whole thing in one gulp, and I watch as red tinges his cheeks.
I've said too much.
Something is going on, inside Logan's head, because when he's done taking a drink, he avoids my eyes like a child, trapped with his hand in the cookie jar.
"You have anything stronger than this?" he asks, leaning towards Wallace.
"Uh, yeah. I have some tequila that Jackie's dad gave me as a gift when we had our union ceremony. It's delicious." Wallace stands, catching Jackie's eye for a split second and nodding as if communicating by telepathy. She nods back, and he smiles at Logan. "Come on, let's go sit on the back deck and give the ladies a chance to complain about us."
"Yeah," Logan mutters. "Let's go."
They stand, and I'm at a loss as to what to say. My stomach turns as guilt seizes my thoughts. What did I mention that was so bad? I mean, it was something that, in hindsight, was really personal, but why should it bother him? Unless his mutterings were about something or someone he doesn't want me to know about…
"I'm glad they left," Jackie says and puts her hand on my arm with a smile. "Now, we can have some girl time to chat."
My mind is still racing when Jackie turns her attention to me, and I force a smile, hoping she thinks I'm as enthusiastic as I am pretending to be, all the while, my brain is trying to figure out why Logan reacted the way he did.
"Yeah. Girl time would be great."
Logan
Wallace gives me a one-armed hug at the door, and I am sure I'm entirely fucked because holy shit, the steps to the house seem to move as I try and walk down. Veronica grabs my arm to help.
"Easy cowboy."
She wraps her arms around mine and guides me down as she says goodbye. It was around the fourth tequila that Jackie came and broke up Wallace and my little party to have apple pie, and it's a good thing, or I would have been sleeping in the baby crib tonight.
"Well…" I pull myself upright. Try not to be so drunk, Echolls. "That was fun."
She makes this cute little snort noise, and oh my God, she's so adorable rolling those beautiful blue eyes at me, I can barely stand it.
"Sure. Fun."
"What? I thought you liked Jackie?"
"I do! She and I had a great time. I mean, not as good as you and Wallace did, but…"
We continue on the path to the dorm, and the street lamps cast eerie shadows in the darkness.
"So, what is it then?"
"You ditched me."
"I ditched you?"
"Yes. You ditched me. To get drunk."
See. She doesn't want a loser like you. The voice in my head sounds like Aaron. It's the same voice I've been hearing every night and dreaming about when I finally fall asleep. The voice I just tried to drown with tequila.
"I...I was just being sociable."
"Pft. Yeah. Right."
She's practically dragging me down the path now as we approach the dorm.
"Hey, you're the one who was mad about me telling them you're a slob."
"For one, I was not mad. And second, I am not a slob," she hisses. "You're the slob who leaves things everywhere."
"Oh, like you're perfect." My lips are moving, and I know I should just shut up, but for some reason, my mouth isn't responding with anything other than shit. "Or is that what you want people to think? That you're perfect?"
We come to a screeching halt, and I almost fall backwards thanks to inertia as she anchors me to the spot.
"No, Logan. I don't want people to think I'm perfect. But I would appreciate it if my partner didn't ditch me to get drunk the first time we go out on a double date."
"Look, Wallace offered it to me, and I accepted."
"No. You asked Wallace for the hard stuff. And then you left me for a bottle of booze just like…"
Her eyes go wide, and for a second, I think she's going to burst into tears, but instead, her wide-eyed shock turns to anger as she narrows her gaze.
"Does your talking in your sleep have to do with Lilly?"
"No!" I pull my arm from her grasp and step back. "That's not it at all."
"Then what is it? Why did you run off when I told them about taking in your sleep?"
"I...I…" Stepping back on the path, my stomach turns.
You're nothing.
She's going to find out and leave you.
She'll never fall in love with you.
Aaron's voice vibrates in my head, and suddenly the taste of bile is in my mouth, and I turn and run for the bushes, dropping to my knees to empty the contents of my belly onto the ground. Involuntary contractions shake my body as I try and fight to stop myself. A hand comes down on my back, and I flinch, but she holds steady.
"It's okay. Just let it out."
I heave again, and nothing comes out but tears. Why the fuck did she have to be so kind to me? I can't take it. Her hand is moving in circles on top of my jacket, and I hunch, hiding my face in the darkness from her. Squeezing my eyes shut, I will my tears to stop, as I've done all the times that I've been on my knees, Aaron's belt lashing against me.
"I'm okay." The words come out in a monotone, and there's no way she can believe me.
"Let's get you home." I lurch when her hand sweeps my forehead, pushing my hair back. "It's okay. I've got you."
When she tugs at my arm, I rise in reflex. It's cold outside, but I'm sweating, and my feet seem to be moving independent of my legs, and as we walk down the path and into the building, it seems as though I'm a balloon on a string that she's pulling.
"Almost there…" she murmurs as we climb the stairs, ignoring the other students in the hall.
I stagger the rest of the way, and Veronica leans me up against the wall while she fishes her keys from her purse. When she finds them, she tosses me this pitying glance that I hope I never see again because it makes me feel even smaller than I do right now.
Pathetic.
The door clicks, and she pulls at my jacket sleeve. "Come on."
I obediently follow her inside until she stops to take off her jacket and toss it across the back of the chair. She spins her finger around in the air, and my eyes follow it.
"Turn around. Let me take your jacket."
Do as you're told.
Turning, I close my eyes against the spinning room and unzip my jacket. She peels it off of me and drops it somewhere. I hear her walk away, and I open my eyes to see her rifling through my drawers. She pulls out a fresh t-shirt and sweats and stands by the door of the bathroom.
"Brush your teeth. Get dressed and get into bed. I have to edit my assignment. I'll join you when I'm done."
The sadness and disappointment in her voice is gutting. Fuck, I'm glad that I can hide from her right now. My feet still aren't working, and I stagger towards her, taking the clothes, avoiding her stare.
"Thanks."
And with that, she just walks away, leaving me to wallow in my own stupidity behind the bathroom door.
Veronica
I sit on my hand to make it stop shaking. Usually, it was my dad who took care of the drunk, not me. Which is why I put the garbage pail on Logan's side of the bed before I sat down at my computer. I've learned from the best. At least my desk isn't right beside his side table—that one is his—so I'm able to ignore him when the bathroom door opens.
The bed frame creaks as he crawls onto the mattress from my side, probably avoiding passing too close to me, and I involuntarily tense. I keep pretending to read my essay, but I can see him in the reflection from my computer screen as he lays on top of the duvet and pulls the old cover over his body from the foot of the bed. He's noticed the bucket, and he rolls to the edge, facing away from my side and a twinge of sadness pricks at my heart. There won't be any cuddling tonight—no goodnight kiss.
"Thank you," he mutters.
"Don't barf on the duvet."
"...try not to."
I turn to find his eyes closed, his breathing is heavy already. I want to say good night, but I can't bring myself to do it. It was one thing when we all got together as teens, and he partied and drank. It's quite another now that we're adults.
Adults.
I suppress a snort. Legally we're adults, but I still feel like a kid. Or a bird. I feel like some stupid bird, just kicked out of the nest, who has to bump her head on some branches before she figures out how flying works.
The words of my essay blend together in a fuzzy clump, and I blink rapidly, trying to focus my brain on the task at hand. Forget about drunk Logan. Forget about whether my mother is back at home, doing the same thing tonight. Forget it all because right now, I need to concentrate on not failing my first assignment.
Increasing the size of the words on my screen, I'm able to keep my mind on my work, tuning out the sound of Logan's breathing behind me. In time, I work my way through my essay once, then twice, making changes until I'm happy with the product and print it. As I wait for the pages, I swivel around to check on Logan as he sleeps.
Stand and stretch. Glance at the clock. It's just after midnight, and I exhale loudly, grateful I'll get some sleep before class tomorrow.
"Hakshwnwjt."
Logan's gibberish begins again, and I shake my head.
"Or maybe no sleep."
"Mwushsd…" His body twitches, and I shake my head, walking around the bed to sit on my side.
When I reach out and touch his back, he twitches again.
"Stop! Stop!"
My hand snaps back at his yelp as I watch him twist under the blankets.
"Logan…"
"Nononononononononononono…"
I push myself closer, my hand sweeping across his forehead, wet with sweat.
"Shhhhh. Logan, you're having a nightmare. Wake up."
His eyes are still closed as his body rocks back and forth.
"Can't. Can't…."
Panic shakes me. What if I can't wake him up? What if he starts screaming? No one ever taught me what the hell to do when your partner goes crazy.
I lay down behind him, pressing myself to him as he vibrates in my arms. My head is on his pillow near his ear, my arm slung around his body, holding him close.
"Shhhhhh. It's Veronica, Logan. Listen to the sound of my voice. You're okay. You're safe."
"Ver...onica...onica."
"Yes. It's me. Please wake up. Please."
My voice is strained as I fight my own panic to try and end his.
"Okay….okay…"
Logan's words drift off, and his muscles relax against me, his breathing slowing back down. He's fallen back to sleep. Or passed out. Either way, it's for the best. As I hold him close, my mind races, replaying his words over and over again. Whatever triggered this nightmare must have been significant. Really big. Because whenever we've been together before, as friends, he's always exuded nothing but confidence.
But now I'm seeing his jackass behaviour in school in a new light. Maybe it was all an act of bravado. Maybe there's something behind the actions, something that he's hiding.
Maybe I'm wrong about the person I partnered with, and I really don't know anything about him at all.