Sherry Ficklin - Losing Logan

I’m not sure if it’s instinct, or rage, or the fear that he might keep getting up and keep coming after me, but I keep swinging until his face is so covered in blood that it doesn’t even look like a face anymore.

“Zoe,” Kyle coughs, rubbing his neck from where he sways on hands and knees.

“Zoe, you can stop now,” Logan says gently. I look over my shoulder, through my one good eye at The Reaper. I expect it to come for me, or Mr. Mason, or Logan, but it just vanishes.

“Huh. Looks like it wasn’t my time to go after all,” I whisper and fall, rolling off of Mr. Mason and onto my back. I blink once up at the bright white moon before everything goes dark.

As it turns out, dying feels a lot like falling asleep. There’s no pain or fear, just a quiet, accepting calm.

Or at least that’s how I remember it.

Living, however, hurts like a son of a bitch. I scratch at the hollow of my arm, where the IV is poking out of my skin. The tape itches like crazy, and that’s actually the least of my problems. The vision comes back in my right eye after a few days. Or maybe weeks. Who the hell knows? I’m on so many painkillers there’s no way to really know how much time is passing. Kyle comes in and sits with me sometimes. He’s pretty bruised up himself and I have to be careful not to make him laugh beacuse he can’t breathe on account of his broken ribs. He reads to me or shows me funny internet videos on his new phone.

Logan never leaves. He’s always there, in the corner of the room, watching me. I feel bad for him. I really thought that once he had his memory back, he’d be able to move on. Maybe that isn’t it at all. Maybe it never was. I try not to bring it up. Not even when he crawls in bed beside me at night.

The police have been in and out. Mr. Mason is still in a coma, or so they tell me. Part of me hopes he dies, part of me hopes he lives to answer for what he did. Either way, I won’t be butt hurt about it. Mom is in and out all the time, working at the hospital has its perks. She gets to see me on every break. She doesn’t make me talk about what happened, though she was there when I had to tell the cops how it went down. I leave out the part about Logan, of course. I’d like to see the outside of a hospital at some point in my life. The twins come by with flowers, Becker and Cassidy bring magazines. Even Madison and Becca come by, though I suspect only to get the gossip on what happened.

Today, Carlos has smuggled me in a burrito, which after a week of hospital food is like manna from heaven. Kyle sits in the chair beside me, reading me yet another get well card someone has sent. Who knew I’d become so popular?

“I have to ask, how did you know to come get me?” I ask softly when Carlos leaves to get me a soda.

Kyle frowns. “I was at home working on my computer, when random words started popping up on my screen.” He stops, looking away. “It was Logan, Zoe. He was saying Zoe, Tower, Now, over and over. Then help her, help her help her. I dropped everything and drove out.”

He looks up. “And you think I’m crazy.”

In the corner of the room, Logan grins. “You better let the poor guy off the hook or he’s going to have himself committed.”

I touch the side of his face with my non bandaged hand.

“You don’t sound crazy.” I take a deep breath, ignoring the pain in my chest. “Remember when you told me that you felt like Logan brought me to you, because he knew you needed me?”

He nods.

“Well, you were wrong. Logan led me to you, because he knew I needed you. I didn’t really understand why at the time, but he came to me and he told me—he told me I needed to let you in.” I feel the tear slip down my face.

Kyle smiles, kissing the tips of my fingers. “I told the police I was worried about you because we were supposed to meet up and you weren’t answering my texts. I told them I went to The Tower because I knew that sometimes you’d go up there to think.”

“Thanks for that.”

He shrugs. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Right back at you.”

I yawn and he sits back. “Okay, you need some rest. The doc is thinking about releasing you tomorrow, so no funny business.”

I grin and let his hand slip from mine. He kisses me on the forehead and leaves. As soon as he’s gone Logan takes his place. I just let my head lull to the side, staring at him. His eyes are so green today, like emeralds. I want to burn the picture of his face into my mind. I want to be able to close my eyes any time I want and be able to see those eyes perfectly in my mind.

“He’s right bruiser. You need to rest.”

I chuckle. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

He frowns.

“What?” I ask, “Too soon?”

“I thought you were going to die. You almost did, Zoe.”

A million responses go through my mind, the first of which is, would that really have been so terrible? But I don’t say it out loud, because I know what his answer will be.

And, I know the truth. The truth is, hanging there, on that bridge, I could have let go. It would have been so easy to just not fight. But I couldn’t. Something inside me, something I didn’t even know existed, wanted to cling to life, to fight for it at any cost. It was that instinct that let me pull myself up, that surge of adrenaline that let me take down Mr. Mason. I guess I can’t deny it any longer. The funny thing is that Logan saw it, even when I didn’t.

“Well, I did promise.” I say finally.

My first day back at school was like coming back from the dead. You’d have thought I was gone for three months instead of two weeks. Everyone hovers around me, alternately trying to get details on what happened and trying to play nurse. I let it go for a while, but by lunch I’ve had it. Madison is cutting my pizza into little squares so I can eat it with a fork, since my right arm is still in a sling.

“Okay, I’m hurt, but not an invalid. Knock it off.” I say grumpily. She slides the plate back to me with a pout on her lips. “Sorry Madison. This is just a little too much smothering. But I really appreciate you trying to take care of me,” I add quickly.

“Yeah, she’s a tough cookie,” Becker says, tossing a French fry at me. I can’t help but grin.

“So, the voting for Homecoming Court is today. Have you voted yet? I can do it for you if you are too hurt to check the little boxes yourself, ” Darla offers playfully.

I nod.

“Yeah, I voted for Becker and Cassidy,” I say pointing at them with my fork.

Cassidy puts her hand to her chest like I’ve just done something truly touching. Kyle leans over and whispers, “Kaylee always made everyone vote for her, no matter what.”

I sigh. Kaylee was a bitch, even being dead couldn’t elevate her to sainthood. My pity at the way she died only goes so far, and apparently, this is where that well runs dry. But I don’t say anything, I just smile warmly.

“Cassidy would make a beautiful Homecoming Queen. I know, I’ve seen the dress.”

“Which reminds me, what time do you want the limo to pick you up?” Becca asks, stabbing a bite of salad and stuffing it into her mouth.

“Limo? I thought that was a prom thing?”

She rolls her eyes, going for a piece of my cut pizza with her fork. I slide it away with a grin. “Normally, yes. But in light of everything, I’ve decided to pull out all the stops. Life is short right?”

Around the table people stare at her like she’s said something wrong. I hold up my pizza so I can take a bite.

“Right.”

In the corner booth Logan stares out the window at the people walking by.

The rest of the day goes by quickly, considering its Friday, and Homecoming. The halls are decorated in maroon and white streamers and posters plaster every wall. The dance is tonight, the game tomorrow. Kyle is a bundle of nerves.