Dominic Maldovan smiled guiltily down at her. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
Logan swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump in her throat, but it was difficult; her mouth had gone dry.
“No, you – you didn’t –” Logan croaked on her words and blushed furiously. She put her hand to her chest and turned her face away, trying to clear her voice. Dominic Maldovan is talking to me, she thought. He’s alone with me, here in the hall, and he’s talking to me!
She could feel Dominic smiling beside her. It was wholly unnerving.
“You didn’t scare me,” she finally finished. She was completely unconvincing.
“Okay,” Dominic grinned. “I noticed you weren’t in class today.”
You noticed? Logan thought feverishly. He’s talking to me and he noticed I wasn’t in class? “I… I was late getting here this morning. Family issues,” she explained softly. She had no idea why she was explaining this to him. Most of her couldn’t really believe that she was alone, in the hall, talking to Maldovan in the first place.
I must be dreaming, she decided. I’ve had dreams like this before, after all.
“Oh? Is everything okay?” he asked, his brow furrowed.
“Everything’s fine,” she lied.
Dominic gazed steadily down at her. He’s seeing me, Logan thought. He’s really seeing me.
“I gotta get back to class,” he finally said, pulling the hall pass out of his back pocket and giving it a little wave in the air before shoving it back in. “Take it easy, Logan.” He nodded at her once, in that respectful, rocker-like way he always did, and then he stepped around her and headed down the long length of the hall.
Logan watched him round the corner. And then she groaned defeatedly and slumped against her shut locker. Way to blow it, Logan, she thought.
*****
Dominic rounded the corner and ducked into the men’s restroom. Once inside, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Smooth, Dom. Very, very smooth.
Moron.
He mentally kicked himself with steel-toed boots, standing there, cursing softly, until several minutes had passed and he felt a bit better.
How many years had passed? How many chances had he lost? What, exactly, was he afraid of?
She’ll turn you down, man. She’s a fucking genius. She’s creative, she’s gorgeous, she’s quiet…. You’re out of her league.
It would seem Dominic wasn’t quite done kicking himself yet after all. A plethora of unpleasant thoughts chased each other through his head. Another opportunity had come, serendipitous and perfect, and he’d let it slip through his fingers.
All because he was afraid of rejection. Just like every other sorry-ass high school kid in existence.
It hurt all the more because this was their final year together. They were seniors, with less than half a term left, and he wasn’t stupid. He knew that once Logan Wright graduated and rid herself of this sorry excuse for a town, she would be hit on by every college kid she crossed paths with. And maybe one of them would be in her league, and probably he would show her how special she was and she would smile at him.
Dominic’s hands fisted at his sides and his teeth ground together. Now all he could imagine was Logan Wright with another guy; he couldn’t get the image out of his head.
Cool it, Dom. Get control of yourself. He opened his eyes and strode to the sinks against one wall. All of the mirrors had been shattered long ago, and most of the faucets were broken. But one of the four still worked. He turned it on and caught the cold water in his hands, splashing it over his face.
A few minutes later, he dried off and left the bathroom to head back to class. He felt a little better.
He’d come to a decision.
Time was not on his side. And where Logan was concerned, he wasn’t going to waste any more of it.
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Heather Killough-Walden, The Strip
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