Chapter 11!
Logan does not want to sit through another meal with his mother.
He avoided breakfast, he grabbed a granola bar and walked to the library. He didn't do anything at the library, he couldn't even bring himself to research. But it had been comforting, sitting there among shelves of books, among the blue light from library computers, even though blue light is harmful.
Probably more so at the capacity Logan was taking it in. He spends hours at computers now.
He should've researched, it would be the perfect environment. But he didn't.
He just hid amongst the bookshelves. He didn't check anything out, he never even interacted once with the librarians at the counter. He didn't need to, he knew what he was there to do.
He was there to sit in the corner of the nonfiction section, right where all the science books were.
He was there to sit there and avoid everyone.
His mother, firstly.
But also Kendall, who had been trying to call since last night.
Also Carlos, who had been trying to call since this morning.
And James, who had never tried to call.
Camille, too, who was calling and texting, but he wouldn't answer, because he had been stupid and almost broken up with her. Maybe they had broken up.
All he remembers was crying after he hung up.
She might already be in Minnesota. She texted about him, mostly, how he was feeling, and if he would talk to her, which he wouldn't. But she also texted about how her things were being shipped to her new Minneapolis apartment soon.
She will be arriving at the Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport tomorrow morning at ten thirty-six in the morning.
He would pick her up from the airport.
He couldn't avoid the effects of that disastrous phone call in the hospital forever.
He couldn't avoid his mother either, however much he wanted to.
He found himself, at seven-thirty that night, at the kitchen table, just like the night before. He sat there, waiting for her. She joined him, and they ate in silence. Just like last night.
She ruins the silence, he could live with silence, he could not live with her talking to him right now.
"Logan, we need to talk."
They would not be talking. They had tried to talk last night, which resulted in an untimely sort of psychotic episode on his part.
He knew he should have researched that, but then it would be real. He didn't need it to be real.
"We talked yesterday. That went horribly."
She doesn't have a refute, because what is she supposed to say? It went great? Because it didn't go great. It went horribly, that is the truth, and she can't argue with him when he is telling the truth.
"So we're going to try again," she reasoned.
He has tried to block the events of yesterday out of his head. Reliving them would not be the way to ensure that he'll forget.
He's starting to forget everything important. Why can't he forget what he actively tries to forget?
"So I can have another—psychotic breakdown?"
He stands up. He managed to avoid her half the day by hiding in the library. Hiding in his bedroom would be no different.
"That's not what I meant."
"What else would you mean?"
"Sit down."
She has the usual concerned look on her face. She is speaking sharply.
He sat down, after careful deliberation.
If he can get through this conversation, he'll probably never have to do it again. Over and done with.
"You realize it would be irresponsible if I let you go to college."
This conversation was not happening. Logan shook his head. This conversation was not happening.
Of course the conversation was happening. He had a breakdown yesterday entirely due to the neurological effects of his disease. Of course they had to talk about it, he reminded himself, logically.
He had to cling to logic and reasoning, yesterday he didn't have that, that's probably why she's so concerned. He can minimize her concern, he'll present all this logic and reasoning, it will reassure her.
It will reassure him, because he's right. Logic has always been on his side. He just needs to counteract whatever point she brings up.
Counteraction: "I'm responsible."
"It would be dangerous."
He hated this, he knew where this was going, it had been going thebut he pretended he didn't. "I've been there before."
Joanna sighed. "You didn't like Connecticut."
He didn't like Camille's father. He didn't like the rain.
But he loved Yale.
"I like Yale."
"I know."
She couldn't be mad at herself. This was the right thing to do. He didn't get it. He would be so upset with her.
"I'm going to go."
Even if that meant that he would have to apply for the spring semester.
"No, you aren't listening."
"I'm listening. I just disagree with you. I'm allowed to do that."
Logan pushes from the table.
"Don't leave." she reprimands him. Trying to be harsh, but she can't be.
He stands.
"I know you're upset," she says. "I'm sorry."
"You can't tell me what to do."
It sounds like such a childish remark, he's not thinking straight.
"Logan, this is for your safety. For your health."
She watched him. He looked up at her. Looked away, back at the table, with the stack of envelopes still there from yesterday.
"You're being unreasonable," he murmured.
"You're not thinking properly," she told him. "I think—"
"Of course I'm not thinking properly!" he shouted. "I was told I'm going to die two weeks ago. How am I supposed to think properly?"
He had a psychotic breakdown yesterday, how is he supposed to think properly knowing that his brain is deteriorating and it'll kill him?
"I think you should go to bed."
"I'm going." He sounded calmer. "I'll apply in the spring semester."
"No, you're not."
And then he wasn't calm, he was yelling again. "But that's not fair. This is your fault, your genetics—"
She hadn't known.
"Don't be rude to me."
"It is your fault!" he insisted. "I didn't ask for—"
He didn't finish the sentence. He tried again. He was not being logical. He had lost logic, he needed it back, he needed to win the argument.
He needed college.
"Don't take this away from me."
He was begging. Logic is gone.
"I'm sorry."
Logan shut his eyes. Trying to breathe, failing to breathe, the braces hurt, the braces reminded him of death and dying. Death and dying, that was him, it was his mother's fault for giving him the genes for this disease.
Everyone thought he was dead already. His life was slipping away.
He couldn't let college slip away, he needed college.
"No!" he exclaimed. "Sorry doesn't take this away, sorry doesn't get rid of this disease, sorry can't cure me."
Nothing can cure him.
He's going to die.
He can't do anything with his life anymore, he's stuck in Minnesota, stuck in these braces, stuck with people who think he's already gone.
"Logan—"
Everything is ruined.
Every single good thing.
He's messed up with Camille. Camille only stays with him because he's sick.
He's messed up with James. James left because he's sick.
He's messed up with Carlos. Carlos is in denial, because he's sick,
He's messed up with his mother. His mother is concerned, because he's sick.
Everything is ruined.
Everyone thought he was gone.
He didn't care.
He broke Kendall.
He cared a little bit.
He broke himself.
So he sank to the floor and cried.
His phone rings. He wakes up.
It's only eight, he shouldn't be asleep.
He's not asleep anymore.
It's Logan. Logan hasn't talked to him, hasn't talked to anyone for two weeks.
Naturally, it's immediately important, Kendall answers the call.
'Logan?"
"Airport."
Kendall has no clue what that means. All he knows is Logan has obviously been crying. Something is wrong.
Because Logan hates airports.
So, naturally, he drives to Logan's house. He keeps Logan on the phone, but he doesn't say anything else, he's just crying, and his hand might've slipped, because the call disconnects.
Kendall drives faster.
It takes only five minutes.
He is there in three.
To find Logan, inside. Sprawled on the kitchen floor, on his stomach. Crying.
He kneels down beside him.
Something is wrong.
"Hey," Kendall says. "What's—"
"Airport. I need to go to the airport."
Something is wrong, because what Logan is saying doesn't make any sense.
"Why do you need to go to the airport?"
Camille wasn't landing in Minneapolis until tomorrow morning.
"I—Yale."
Yale. Logan had always wanted to go to Yale.
"Logan—"
"Take the braces off," Logan whispers. "Take the braces off."
Kendall forgot to look there, now he can't rip his eyes away. Logan has four red sleeve-things. Two on his arms. Two on his legs. Those are the braces.
"Please," Logan begs him. He's still crying. "It hurts so much."
Kendall takes the leg braces off first. He doesn't ask questions, even though he wants to. Logan wouldn't answer them. Logan can't answer questions right now.
Without the braces, Logan can barely lift himself off the ground. Kendall pulls him up into a sitting position. Unhesitating, Logan leans against him. This is an issue, because Logan wouldn't have done this.
The hospital must have killed him.
Kendall lets Logan lean into him. They are silent together.
"I'm going to die, Kendall."
That's how the silence breaks. That's the worst.
He can't produce a comforting lie, Logan would know that he's lying. He can't say anything truthful, yes, they're all going to die, because that's not what Logan means.
Logan means he can feel the disease killing him already.
"You're alive."
This seemed like the right thing to say.
It was not. It was worse than any comforting lie or painful truth.
Logan struggles to stand up. He needs the braces, Kendall feels like an idiot for taking them off.
"Then why is everyone treating me like I'm already dead?"
This is a lie. Logan is still alive, everyone knows that. Everyone is grateful.
The only person that might not be, is James. But James has proven himself to be insane.
James isn't even that insane.
"Nobody thinks you're dead, Logan."
He can't say anything right, anything he says gets Logan more upset than he was before.
"I can't go to college!"
College is not the end of the world. Kendall wasn't going to college. Not right now, anyway.
College is the end of the world for Logan, but even then, he doesn't say what he means.
What Logan means is: I can't do anything with my life anymore, so I might as well be dead.
That could be the end of the world, actually. It feels like the end of the world.
Logan has always been destined for college. For med school after that, and then to become a famous, high ranking, best in the world, neurosurgeon.
"Right," Kendall says.
Hearing Logan scream about college makes this too real. Realer than when he was asleep all the time in the hospital bed, Kendall could blame that on drugs. He didn't have to acknowledge the disease.
But the disease was taking everything away from Logan.
It would be safer if Logan didn't go to college. He would be safer.
But he wouldn't be happy, he would be upset like this.
Kendall didn't know how to fix that.
Logan is shaking, sobbing.
Kendall can't do anything.
"I can't," Logan mutters to himself. "I—"
But his voice cracks, and he continues to cry.
There's no words for this, he can't give a speech for this.
So all he does is lay on the floor with Logan.
He waits for Logan to fall asleep. Kendall doesn't know if he can feel it as he slips the braces back on.
He stays until it's morning, and Logan won't talk to him again.
He doesn't want to go through this cycle anymore, he wishes he could say something.
He's speechless.
He's never been speechless, and now, at the worst time, he has nothing to say. Logan has nothing to say back. He follows Kendall out to the driveway. They step into their separate cars.
It's not safe for Logan to drive, if he's going to pick Camille up from the airport.
But Logan already had so much taken away from him.
Kendall is speechless as Logan drives away.
He hates this.