Still, she never talked about it. Just in case.
There had been countless times that she had been tempted to at least tell Logan. Logan was a writer. In Meagan’s belief system, that made her a bard. And she was a good one. Bards had long been considered brethren, special and sacred, druids in their own rights, with magical powers of their own kind.
And Logan didn’t even know it.
If Meagan was going to confide in anyone, it would have been her. But rather than chance the repercussions of her secret getting out too far, she remained quiet about it and figured – if it is meant to be discovered, then it will be.
She sneezed again and pulled a tissue from her pocket.
Tonight, Katelyn wanted Meagan and Logan to go to her house for a study session. Of course, it wasn’t going to happen. Not for Meagan anyway. And she needed to come up with a viable excuse before the bell rang or Katelyn would assume that she was either coming – or didn’t want to come, and that would just hurt her feelings.
“I’m having a family night,” she muttered to herself as she wiped her nose and then stuffed her books into her locker. She pulled out what she would need for fourth period. She had French with Katelyn fourth period. “That sounds good. Mom and dad want us to play board games or something,” she nodded to herself. That would work. Blame it on the parents.
“Hey!”
Meagan turned to see the very blond head of Katelyn Shanks, one of her two best friends, bobbing toward her as quickly as it could through the crowded halls. “Megs, help me! I didn’t do the homework for today! I totally spaced it!” Kate breathed as she managed to push up to Meagan’s locker. Her hazel eyes were wide and glittered with that mild form of terror a student experiences in the midst of unfinished assignments or pop quizzes.
“Here, take this,” Meagan pulled a sheet out of her three ring binder and handed it to Katelyn. “I took an extra one when she was handing them out.” She always did this, as Katelyn was in the habit of losing them or leaving them at home and Meagan knew that if their situations were reversed, Katelyn would do the same for her.
Besides, Katelyn was pretty good at French. She just wasn’t good at homework.
“So, are you coming over tonight?” Katelyn asked as she plastered the yellow hand out to the face of the locker next to Meagan’s and pulled the pen from behind her ear.
Meagan shut her locker and scrambled the combination. “I can’t,” she said. “It’s family night. My mom and dad want us to play board games. You know – Clue, Monopoly, that kind of thing.”
Katelyn looked disappointed, and, once more, Meagan was tempted to tell one of her friends the truth. But the second bell soon rang and the two girls slid into their seats and before long the teacher was talking and Meagan was saved from saying anything further at all.
*****
Logan had already missed the first two classes of the day. She’d had to threaten to call the cops again to get Taylor to put down the gun and back away from her mom. The cops had been out to their house so many times at this point, it was a regular stop for them.
And Logan’s dad had long since put most of his weapons in a safe. But he left one out, loaded, and hidden, its location known only to Logan and her mother in case someone broke in while he was gone and threatened them.
Logan could understand that. She really could.
But Taylor was not a stupid young man. Disturbed, definitely. Troubled, absolutely. But not stupid. When he set about trying to find something, he usually found it. And he’d found the gun behind the fluorescent light cover in the garage that morning.
Fortunately, he hadn’t been so far gone that he couldn’t listen to reason.
Logan was used to talking her brother down. She was the only one he ever listened to – when he listened to anyone at all. Sometimes even she couldn’t get through to him, and those were very bad days indeed.
Now, however, the morning was more or less over, Taylor was passed out on three Ativan, and all Logan could really think about was how she’d missed the first two classes of the day.
Not that she minded missing the first one all that much, but the second was one of her favorites. It was an elective, for one thing, and that alone made it worth going to most of the time. But, more importantly – Dominic Maldovan was in that class.
Well, not exactly in that class.
Her class was choir and his was advanced guitar, but they were held in the same drama department at the same time and there was nothing between them to keep her from surreptitiously glancing at him except the thick glass window of the sound room.
Logan had lived in her small town for a long time – too long, by her book. But in all of the years she’d spent there, she had only ever had a crush on one boy. And that crush, she had suffered since the fourth grade.
She remembered her first meeting with Dom as if it was yesterday. She’d been running on the torn asphalt and gravel playground, trying to escape some kid who liked tagging the girls because they were slower.
Logan had never been one to give up easily, so she had run with all of her might, and when she’d run out of space to go straight, she’d made a hard right. The kid leapt, tagging her hard in the back and knocking her off balance. She lunged forward and hit the ground at a roll, scraping up everything from her shoulders on down.
The first person in the world to be at her side on that playground was Dominic Maldovan. She had looked up, through a tilted world of blurred shock and pain, and Dominic had been there, dressed in a leather jacket, even at his age. Even in the fourth grade.
He had reached down and offered her his hand.
She’d taken it. He walked her to the nurse’s office, right up to the door, and didn’t leave until the nurse closed it between them.
It was strange, but in the years following that day, he never spoke to Logan. Not really. He would occasionally say “hi,” or nod in that rocker-like way he always did. He would smile at her, sort of lopsided and gorgeous, over his broad, leather-encased shoulder.
And she would duck her head and hide her eyes and dream at night about the young man in the black leather jacket with eyes like flinted jade and hair the color of raven’s wings.
He was the only boy she had ever crushed on; the only one she thought even remotely appealing or attractive. Maybe her standards were too high. Or maybe she had no interest in dating someone she didn’t feel was worth it, just for the sake of dating. It wasn’t her thing. She could take boys or leave them. It didn’t really matter. Life was complicated enough for her as it was.
But Dominic gave her hope. He was, to her, a glimpse of what might be if the world looked the way it would have looked if she had painted it.
If she had written its story.
It would be so beautiful – and its men would wear black leather jackets.
Of course, she wasn’t alone in her opinion of Dominic Maldovan. Practically every girl in the school had a thing for him. It was hard not to. He was so tall, he stood at least a head above most of the other boys in the school. He played guitar as if he’d been born with a pick between his thumb and forefinger. He even had a band – and they were good. But most of all, when Dominic looked at you, with those piercing green eyes of his, he really looked at you – as if he were truly seeing you there.
That was rare for boys.
And it drove Logan slightly mad. It was the stuff of dreams; it was definitely the stuff of her dreams. And she’d missed him this morning because her brother had gone ballistic. Literally.
With a heavy sigh and a heart that felt equally heavy, Logan shut her locker door and turned to peer down the empty hallway. Her mother had made excuses for her, as usual. It was nothing new, and embarrassing as it was, Logan was used to the principal simply nodding at her as she walked through the school’s front door two hours late.
The one good thing that came of it was that she could take her time sorting herself out before she went to third period. She was already late. She was already behind
. She may as well stand there and breathe and think before she was shoved head-long into what was left of another stressful high school day.
The silence in the halls was so very rare. To Logan, when she stood still and alone in the hallway between classes or after school, she felt as if she’d entered some kind of movie or book or even a dream. It was surreal to hear the echoes of the twelve hundred students who had traversed the hall only moments ago – but stare down its length and see nothing but rows and rows of lockers and a few pieces of careless trash.
It was like living in a ghost story. She expected to catch a glimpse of some student body president from the past, outlined in white transparency, with holes where his eyes had once been.
But that was just Logan. That was the way her mind worked.
It kept her sane when Taylor sent someone to the emergency room or her mother began to slur her speech or her father had one of his bad days.
Now, the silence in the hall stretched and she began to feel the guilty prodding of time at her back. She needed to get to class. But she hated third period. It was a newly required part of their curriculum – a health class – taught by the gym teacher, who was a meat head in the worst kind of way. And none of her friends were in that class with her.
“Hey Logan.”
Logan jumped and spun around at the sound of the deep voice behind her. She barely managed to keep down the yelp of surprise that threatened her lips, but the wide eyes and quickened pulse, she was helpless to stop.
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.
(Sam I Am is now available.)
Heather Killough-Walden, The Heat
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