Sherry Ficklin - Losing Logan

“Wait, that’s it? You dumped her because you weren’t in love with her?”

He tilts his head. “Not just that. I realized I never would fall in love with her. She was a friend. But nothing more. What kind of relationship is that?”

I stare at him. He looks over warily.

“What?” he asks.

I lean my head against the seat.

“Wow. That’s the most incredibly honest thing I’ve ever heard of. I knew you were amazing, but that might actually push you over the edge into perfect territory.”

He laughs dryly. “No one’s perfect Zoe.”

“I didn’t mean perfect, perfect. I meant perfect for me,” I add quietly.

We descend upon the Captain’s Table—the nicest restaurant in town—hand in hand. He made a reservation sparing us the nearly two hour wait at the door. As we make our way to the corner table, the dim area aglow by candle light, my heart crawls into my throat. Dinner, sure. Pizza. Tacos. But this, this is downright romantic . Not what I was expecting and I’m not entirely sure I’m ready for this. Two tables over my next door neighbor and her husband are staring at me as I take a seat. Three tables behind Kyle a couple in their late 80’s or so are pointing to us and smiling in that vaguely condescending way only old people can. I scoot my chair in, folding my hands in my lap and cracking my knuckles.

“Are you alright?” Kyle asks, handing me the linen menu.

I plaster on a fake smile. This place probably cost him a month’s worth of paychecks, what kind of terrible person would I be to complain about it? One of the things I’ve always liked about the dark haired boy is his salt of the earth demeanor. Sure, his family is obscenely wealthy, sure his house is the size of a football field. But he has a job, a truck he paid for himself, and I doubt he shops anywhere fancier than the local mall. This place is so far out of my comfort zone I can feel myself about to break out into hives.

“I’ve never been here before,” I say honestly.

He grins meekly. “Yeah, I don’t come here much myself. But the food is good and Mario, the owner, comes into the shop to get his oil changed. He’s always telling me to come sometime, so I gave him a call and he got us in.”

I feel myself relax just a little.

“That’s cool.”

“Yeah. I have all the best hookups,” he says with a sarcastic laugh.

“Lucky you.”

I pick up the menu, trying not to frown at the prices. The waiter makes his way over and we order.

“So,” I fold my hands under my chin, elbows on the table. “What are your big plans for after High School?”

He takes a drink of water before answering. “College. I have scholarship offers from a few places. I’m leaning towards William & Mary.”

I tilt my head. “You want to stay that close?”

He half shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I’m keeping my options open.”

“Always a good plan.”

“What about you?”

I lean back. “I want to take a gap year. Travel, do some charity work. Then I’m off to NYU. I want to major in Anthropology and minor in Ancient Civilizations.”

“So, you want to be Tomb Raider?”

I laugh, nearly choking on my water.

“More like Indiana Jones. Less guns, more whips.”

“I think you would look great with a whip.”

I tilt my glass. “Why thank you.”

At that moment I see someone moving toward me out the corner of my eye. It’s Logan. As soon as I see him he begins frantically motioning for me to follow him.

“Sorry, I need to use the bathroom. Be right back,” I mumble, excusing myself from the table.

As soon as I’m out of earshot I mutter at Logan under my breath.

“This had better be important.”

“It is,” he assures me, following me to the bathroom.

I push open the door, thank heavens it’s a one stall, and lock the door behind me.

“Get in here,” I whisper and Logan appears beside me.

“What is it? Did you remember something?”

He shakes his head. “No, I was at your house, just sort of keeping an eye on things. But that Reaper showed up.”

“Well, lucky for me, I wasn’t there.”

“No, you don’t understand. It got out of your mom’s car. It was with her.”

I blink, trying to process his words.

“Is she alright? Did it try to…? I don’t know, reap her?”

“No. It just followed her inside. And I followed it. It went into your room and just hovered there, like it was waiting for you. I told it to leave. I even tried to grab it—“

“That was stupid. You need to stay away from it Logan, I mean it.”

“Not really the point. The point is, it said something.”

I lean against the sink. “What did it say?”

“It said, it’s Zoe .”

I go from mildly upset to completely freaked out in no time flat. I stomp around, practically slamming myself into the walls, fingers pulling at my own hair.

Why does this thing want me? Why am I so special? None of this makes any sense. Logan keeps reaching out to grab me but he can’t seem to make himself solid enough to make contact. I wave him off.

“We need to get you out of here, Zoe. Get you some place safe.”

I look over at Logan. He looks as frazzled as I feel.

“Where exactly? Where is safe Logan? I can’t hide from something that can walk through walls and make itself appear at will anywhere, any time.”

Then a really terrifying thought hits me like a kick to the stomach. Mom. It followed my mom. What if it decides that sticking close to her is the best way to get to me? What if it hurts her? I can’t even—

I blow out a deep breath, forcing the air from my lungs and purse my lips.

“It won’t try anything here, in public.”

“You don’t know that Zoe. It very well could.”

I shake my head. “Nah. If it wanted me that badly, it could have taken me any time. Whatever it wants, whatever it’s going to do, it won’t be out in the open like this.”

He rolls his eyes. “Just because you want that to be true doesn’t mean—“

I spin on him, my finger poking where his chest would be if he were solid.

“What are you doing here anyway? I thought all this was too hard for you? Didn’t you decide to bail on me?”

He steps back, an expression of real hurt flashing in his eyes.

“Zoe, I never left you. I wouldn’t do that. I just couldn’t keep pretending things could work between us. It isn’t fair to either of us, you know that.”

I poke him again.

“I don’t want your excuses. And you don’t get to bail on me like a coward and then come running to my rescue when it suits you. Just leave me alone.”

With that I open the door and walk briskly back to my seat. I can feel him following me, but I ignore him.

“We need to go, Zoe.” Logan says behind me.

I take my seat, not looking his way.

“So, a gap year. What kind of travel do you want to do?” Kyle asks, breaking off a chunk of bread and handing it to me.

“Oh, you know. Turkey. Greece. Egypt.”

“Not the safest travel destinations,” he says absently.

I nod. “True, but there’s more to life than playing it safe, don’t you think?”

“Zoe, please,” Logan begs.

Kyle smirks. “You sound like Logan.”

I almost spit my soda on him. Coughing into my napkin I manage to recover.

“What do you mean?”

Kyle looks up from his empty plate, motioning to the room around us.

“It’s this thing Logan used to say. He said, ‘If you aren’t living life like there’s no tomorrow, you’re just wasting time.’ It was one of his many philosophies. They all had the same basic theme. Get busy living or get busy dying.”

I take a long drink of the soda, wishing it was something a little stronger.