"So, friends, huh?"

"Yep," Logan replied, while sitting in his room with Kendall, playing video games.

"That's cool."

"So you don't think I made a mistake?"

"No, not at all."

"She'll come by to visit me. Tomorrow."

"Will you tell her what's going on?"

"Do you think I should?"

Kendall thought for a moment. "Well, no, not yet. On the other hand . . . how long do you think you can keep it a secret from her?"

"It's not like I'm keeping it a secret on purpose. I just don't want this to be over before it actually begins. But she's pretty smart, so I think she'll figure it out sooner or later. The only question is how she will deal with it."

"Well, I haven't had much interaction with her yet, but I think she'll be fine."

"I hope so . . ."

"Have things gotten any better since you've been home?"

"More or less."

Kendall nodded understandingly. "I told you before, my mom is always willing to help."

"Yes, I know. But I think we can do it on our own."

"Okay, if you say so."


Camille didn't know why she was nervous. Technically there was no reason for it, and yet she was. Even her hand trembled slightly as she pressed the doorbell. When she heard the footsteps in the house, she got even more jittery and then he stood in front of her, smiling brightly. "Hi."

"Hey," she answered and was glad that he couldn't hear the nervousness in her voice.

"Come in," Logan said calmly, waving her inside. Camille gratefully obeyed. "How are you?"

Logan shrugged. "I'm fine. Do you want me to show you around?"

"Yes, sure."

So Logan started showing Camille around the house. When they reached the upper floor, Camille was surprised that Logan just walked past two doors without any comment. She stopped. "What about these rooms?"

Logan turned around, a slight wrinkle appeared on his forehead. "These two? Oh, just my parents' home offices."

"That makes sense," Camille said. " Were they always supposed to be home offices?"

Logan suddenly looked extremely tense. "Well, originally it was just one room. And my parents had many ideas about what to do with it. But when I got my diagnosis, the most logical thing for them to do was convert that space into two offices, so they could always be there for me when I was having a bad phase."

Camille immediately noticed the odd tone in his voice. There was no reason for Logan to lie, and yet she had a strong feeling that there was something he didn't want to tell her. But why? She would have liked to ask him that question, but she didn't want to destroy things between them, so she asked, "Bad phase?"

Logan waved off. "Yeah, you know, when I'm not in the hospital, I get medication. But sometimes the meds aren't working well, or my immune system is just having a bad day, or days, that depends."

"Does this happen often?" Camille asked, now with a slightly worried tone in her voice.

"No, not often. Don't worry about that."

Unfortunately, it was too late for that, and Logan seemed to notice, because he said in a more cheerful tone, "Come on, I'll show you my room."


"Wow."

Logan looked at Camille questioningly. "Why wow?"

Camille had to laugh. "I can't tell the difference between this room and your room at the hospital."

That was almost true. Because even in Logan's room at home were tons of books. Large windows had been let into the walls, so that he had a good view of the outside. The walls were painted in a pastel green tone. In the far corner of the room was Logan's bed, the sheets looking like they had been freshly changed. There was also a desk with a laptop on the work surface and a TV on the wall opposite the bed. Next to the bed was a bedside table with a lamp on it. And everything was clean and tidy, almost clinically, not a speck of dust anywhere.

"It's a really nice room."

"Thanks," Logan mumbled. Camille looked over at him. Logan was standing at the window with his back to her. She stood next to him, trying to figure out what he was looking at so intently. But she didn't notice anything. "Are you okay?" she asked. He bit his lower lip, then turned around to her, smiling again. "Of course. Hey, you know what? My mom made lemonade earlier. Why don't we just grab some of it and go outside?"

"Sounds great."


"I love your garden. It's really beautiful."

Logan's mouth twitched. "Thanks. I'm sure my mom will be happy to hear that. The garden is . . . well, it's kind of her hobby."

And there it was again. That weird undertone in Logan's voice. But before Camille could ask, they heard voices coming from the front door.

"My parents are here," Logan said, looking glad to be able to change the subject. Shortly thereafter, Logan's parents came outside and greeted Camille warmly . . . well . . . at least Logan's father seemed happy to meet Camille. Even though Logan's mother smiled widely when Logan introduced Camille, shook Camille's hand and asked a few courtesy questions, Camille couldn't shake off the feeling that Logan's mother didn't like her.


For the rest of the summer vacation, Camille was happier than ever because she was absolutely right about Logan. He was great. They communicated with each other on a daily basis, via text messages, calls or video chats. The fragile bond that had been between them from the start became stronger and stronger over summer. It was an incredibly good feeling to talk to Logan, because he saw so many things with different eyes.

Every now and then Logan would send Camille little notes with the mail. Most of the time they were quotes he thought Camille would like, and so far, he'd always been right. The funny thing was that Logan never told her when he had sent her a note and he never asked if she had received the messages, and in return Camille never confirmed it to him. She started sending him messages as well but didn't mention it to him and Logan did the same. They didn't need to ask. Logan just knew that Camille got his messages, just like Camille knew that Logan got her messages as well.


Once again, on that one day in the last week of summer break, Camille found a note from Logan in the mailbox. She was excited to find out what kind of quote he might have chosen this time, but then stopped when she realized that it was more than just a little note this time.

Hi Camille, my parents won't be home tonight so I thought you might like to come and see me. But keep the following words in mind, the later you show up, the bigger the surprise will be.

"The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise. It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us." – Ashley Montagu


It was nine thirty in the evening when Camille pulled up her car in front of Logan's house. She picked up her cell phone and texted Logan.

I'm here.

It only took a few seconds for him to answer.

Come into the garden.

Camille got out and did what Logan told her. But as soon as she passed the garden gate, she stopped.

"Whoa . . ."

Logan must have been busy all day decorating a large part of the garden with lanterns. Their light illuminated the garden with beautiful colors. Camille was so mesmerized by this sight that she didn't even notice Logan at first. He approached her with a smile on his face. "Do you understand why you should come by this late?"

Camille had to laugh. "Yes, I understand. And it's beautiful, Logan. But . . . why?"

He smiled shyly and pointed to a porch swing, which was also surrounded by lanterns. "Would you like to sit down first?"

Camille nodded and followed Logan to the swing where she sat down next to him. For a few minutes they just sat there, enjoying the colorful lights of the lanterns and the contrasting dark night sky.

"I want to tell you something," Logan said. "But I've never done anything like this before. Maybe I should start by telling you how much I've enjoyed the past few weeks. I think you can imagine that my life is pretty boring and monotonous, but a lot has changed since I've known you. Well, no, not really, but a lot has changed for me. Every single day I feel this excitement and anticipation of hearing from you, talking to you, seeing you. It's a whole new feeling for me and it makes my simple life better, a lot better to be honest."

Camille wanted to say something back, wanted to tell him that she felt the same way, but Logan, polite as ever, asked her to let him finish. "And . . . and I know I said at the beginning that I wanted to take it slow, and that is exactly what we did. But over the past few days, I just couldn't help but wonder, imagine, what it would be like if we were more than just . . . just more."

Camille couldn't believe her ears. At that moment there were so many feelings inside her, so many thoughts and words that she just couldn't decide what to say first. That's when she remembered something Logan had said to her about three weeks ago, "If you don't know what to say, just don't say anything. There are other ways of letting people know how you feel. Words are unnecessary, gestures are not."

So, taking his advice, she put a hand on his and smiled softly. Logan looked at her, he understood her gesture, understood her smile. His fingers intertwined with hers and he began to smile as well.