AUTHORS NOTE: R&R
Chapter Nineteen: What Happened
I woke up screaming. Not just a regular old scream, but a scream like screaming bloody murder. Tears where streaming down my face and my palms where all sweaty. And that's when I realized I was in bed, but when had I gotten in bed? I was just at the doctors with Logan. Right? Or was that part of my dream? It was my dream, or was it?
I sat up my head throbbing, and then when I looked around I found that the apartment was filled with boxes. California, I remembered, does that mean I'm not pregnant?
Suddenly, I felt sick. I threw the covers off the bed and bolted to the bathroom, where I was violently sick. Morning sickness. I was still pregnant. Thank god.
"Ace?" I heard the front door close. I stood up and grabbed my toothbrush. "Rory are you home?"
"In here," I yelled squirting toothpaste on my toothbrush and forcefully brushing my teeth.
"Ace," he said walking in "whoa, you look awful."
"Thanks," I muttered "Girls love hearing that."
"What happened?" I spit into the sink put my toothbrush away.
"I'm not sure," I murmured "I don't know what was part of my dream and what is real."
"What are you talking about?" He asked.
"I don't even know! What happened yesterday? I mean, my dream, it was so real, like it actually happened and then when I got up this morning everything was packed in boxes, meaning the California thing was real but what about the dead baby thing?"
"What? The baby died?! How?"
"So that part was a dream…" I left off.
"Wait what?"
"What?"
"Yes."
"No?"
"Huh?"
"Okay, okay, okay!" I yelled "stop this hurting my head!"
"Let's start over," he said sitting down on the side of the tub.
"Okay," I sat next to him "what happened yesterday?"
"We decided to move to California."
"That's it?" I asked.
"That's the only "important" thing," he put "important" in quotes.
"So nothing happened to the baby?"
"No," he stood up, "why are you saying that? Is there something you're not telling me?"
"No!" I didn't yell, though I felt like I was going to.
"Good."
"Is there something you're not telling me?" I blocked the exit.
"What? No!"
"Yes, there is. I know you too well, I can tell you're hiding something and I want to know what it is."
"Well, I can't tell you what it is 'cause there's nothing."
"There's got to be something," I beseeched "please, Logan, please tell me."
"Okay," he murmured sitting back down on the edge of the tub.
"You're going to tell me?"
"Nope."
"Very mature Logan."
"I try." Was he serious? Was he just going to block me out like this when so much was happening?
"Come on."
"No," he said again.
"Logan, this is childish, just tell me. You're being an ass."
"Me? I'm not the one blocking someone in a bathroom until they tell me what's going on when nothing is going on!"
"There's got to be something, I mean, you're obviously upset about something."
"Rory, can we please just let this go. When I said there was nothing I meant it. There is nothing, you're getting all worked up over something that isn't even happening."
"You swear?"
"I promise," he stood back up reaching for the door "will you let me go now?" I stepped away from the door and he walked right out. Something was up and I was determined to get to the bottom of it, no matter what.
I went to the paper, there was nothing else to do. At least nothing when Logan was still upset about the whole conflict this morning. He would most likely bombard me with questions about what had happened the second I walked into the apartment. But then again, he would have a reason to, I mean, I was a little overdramatic.
When I finally forced myself to go home, I found something a little more surprising then I'd hoped. On the kitchen counter there was a note, nothing more, just a note which read:
Ace.
I am sorry for what happened earlier, I wish I could explain my
behavior, but right now, in this note, it's not the right time. I will explain everything later, I swear. But sadly (and yes at the worst time possible) my dad is forcing me to a conference in Seattle. I will be back Wednesday.
I love you,
Logan
I woke to a sudden, persistent ringing. The phone. Fumbling for the light switch at the same time, I answered it.
"Hello?" My voice rasped into the receiver.
"Ace," he was speaking quietly, as if frightened.
"Hey," I said waking up a little "why are you calling so late?"
"I need you to come get me."
"In Seattle? Are you kidding?"
"No, I'm serious."
"Well," I started "Where are you."
"That's why I need you to come get me."
"Oh, no, Logan…" I already knew, he already knew, and he already knew I already knew. But he said it anyways.
"I'm in jail."
"Again?" I had to keep myself from getting pissed off.
"You make it sound like I've been in a lot." I didn't respond. "Ace?"
"Yeah."
"Are you going to come get me?" He waited.
"I'm… debating." I said quietly, scared of his response.
"What are you debating?" He asked quickly.
"Nevermind. What did you do anyway?"
"Speeding," he murmured.
"Logan, I can't believe this. What station? It's going to be a while I hope you know, I mean, finding a plane at this time in this little notice wont be easy via you're going to be in jail for a whole night probably." I was done. He needed to shape up, it wasn't good for the kid and I had to tell him that. "And Logan. This is it. The last straw I am telling you, first you wont tell me what's up and then you leave and now you're arrested?! Its not my job to clean up your messes. I need you to do that, because sooner then you think there's going to be a baby, that's another life to take care of, not as easy as you think."
SO WHAT DO YOU THINK? BAD, GOOD, OKAY? AND YES, I KNOW, LOGAN'S ON THE DOGHOUSE!