Chapter 19!
It has almost two months, he hasn't even noticed because he has done nothing.
Nothing that felt worth it. Just that September hospital check up, which he can't even remember, even though it wasn't so long ago.
Logan is just convinced he's semi brain dead.
He remembers the days now based on how much homework Katie gets.
Today, she asked for his help with biology homework. Which he was sure he could still help with.
It was about DNA too. And that, by far, was one of his favorite concepts.
That's only slightly ironic, considering the current state of his DNA.
But he can help. He knows he can help.
So, naturally the first step of this helping process would be to ask what her assignment is.
Her assignment is to read about the structure of DNA and take notes, so Logan readily agrees to assist for clarification purposes only, because cheating is a crime.
He does actually want to do her homework but that would be considered cheating.
Cheating is a crime. He will not be a biology homework criminal.
Katie asks for clarification on the first paragraph, asking what a nucleotide is.
He knows what a nucleotide is.
Nucleo…nuclei…nucleus…
Tide…tie…knots…rope…
Nucleus…nuclear…nuke…
Microwave.
What the hell?
He just has to think harder.
Because defining a nucleotide as a microwave rope absolutely cannot be correct.
Unless it is?
Is it?
"Micro—"
"What, Logan?"
"No, nothing."
What's wrong with him?
"Can I see the book again?"
She hands it over to him wordlessly.
He studies the book in front of him. He has to look at one of the pages.
The one on the left.
Okay.
And now he has to find the paragraph.
Paragraph.
Paragraph.
And he shakes his head.
He'll just start reading these words.
N U C L E O T I D E
They aren't even words, they're just letters. He needs to put the letters together.
NUCLEOTIDE
But these letters don't make sense yet.
That's probably not the right word.
He'll just go and find a new one.
D N A
Now he just needs to put the letters together.
DNA.
D—what does that sound like? D—D sounds like dog.
Okay.
Now N.
N sounds like…N sounds like…
No.
Good.
And A.
What does A sound like?
A….A…A….
Apple.
DNA.
DOGNOAPPLE.
DOGNOAPPLE?
That does not sound right.
"Logan?"
Who is that?
"Logan?"
It's a girl voice.
And it's not Mom, and it's not—one of his friends—and not—
"Logan? Are you okay?"
It's Katie.
It's Katie.
"Read this to me."
Katie is confused.
"What? Why?"
He insists.
She reads.
And he still doesn't get it.
It sounds too complicated.
And he didn't hear DNA—DOGNOAPPLE.
He doesn't know what the words are that she is reading. This is too hard.
He is trying not to cry, but fails, and Katie asks if he is okay, he is not, but he doesn't need her worrying about him, she's only 14, is she fourteen, he can't remember her exact birthday.
This is terrible, he knows Katie was born in the summer, there are three summer months to choose from.
He doesn't ask when her birthday is, he can't remember, it will be concerning if he asks.
So he stands up from the table, maybe she is calling after him, maybe she isn't.
Maybe he knocked into Kendall on the way out the door. Maybe he is calling after him too.
But he goes home.
He goes home, and makes his bed.
He sits there.
A nucleotide has three parts: a phosphate group, a five-carbon deoxyribose sugar, and a nitrogenous base.
He holds his head in his hands.
Katie's birthday is June 12.
He does not cry, he thinks his mother is home.
His mother is not home.
So he does cry.
————
Joanna hears Logan crying upstairs the second she walks in the door.
And the second she hears that, she is immediately upstairs.
Logan is laying in his unmade bed, crying into his pillow.
And she sits down next to him.
"Hi baby."
He doesn't lift his head up.
"Mom?"
She runs her fingers through his hair.
"Yeah baby, I'm here."
His frustrated crying tears into her heart.
"What happened?"
Logan gasps for air that he can't find. She helps him up. Immediately, he is leaning against her.
"I—I forgot."
His face is red with heat, and his eyes are shiny with tears. More fall as he shuts his eyes.
She reaches over and turns off his lamp.
"What did you forget, sweetheart?"
He lets out another sob, and she kisses his head.
"Breathe."
He gasps.
She takes a deep breath.
He copies her.
"Good job sweetheart. You're okay."
And Logan shakes his head.
"It's okay honey."
He shakes his head again. He lays back down and she lays next to him.
He cries.
She will not cry, she will help him first. She has to. That's what she has to do.
But he cries harder, and isn't breathing again. The constant modeling of deep breathing isn't working to help him.
"Baby?"
She shouldn't expect him to respond. Not by speaking.
Just more crying. And it hurts to hear it.
It hurts worse to know that he has too good of a reason to cry.
"Baby, come here, okay?"
He leans into her.
Good.
She can help him up, and they walk down the stairs.
He just needs a distraction.
He knows it, too.
"Can we look at the photo albums?"
This hurt her worse than his cries.
He hates doing that. Looking at photo albums, watching home videos—he hates that. He finds it embarrassing. Torture.
"Please?" he begs her.
And she can't refuse him. She won't.
She just kisses his head again. "Sure baby."
She maneuvers them both so they can sit on the couch.
Gives him another kiss because he's not refusing it and he needs it.
Pulls out a stack of albums. The first one, the top of the pile is one of her favorites.
She brings it back to the couch, sitting beside Logan, flipping through it.
It's her favorite because all these photos were taken in a perfect period of time.
He just looked so small in the photos.
"Who's that?" Logan asked quietly.
The picture was of Logan, and a little girl Joanna remembered that had been his friend. Bailey—she couldn't remember her last name.
They looked so small.
And Joanna says, "That's you, baby."
And Logan shook his head. "The girl."
And Joanna knows now, how badly his memory is today, because in the photo Logan was only six, and sure, twelve years is a lot of time.
But Logan knew Bailey.
"That's Bailey, honey. One of your old friends."
And Logan looks at her.
Looks at the photo.
And leans against her again.
And cries.
Joanna closes the photo album.
Tomorrow will be better.
Except how can that be true if they're both crying?