I finished English and wanted to get a head start on math, since we still had about twenty minutes left before the bell rang. I’d left my textbook in my locker, so I excused myself from the table, heading to the front of the library where copies of all our texts were kept.
“If I were a math book, where would I be?” I wondered aloud as I scanned the row of books, finally finding the bright blue cover shelved incorrectly among the art history texts. My fingers had barely brushed the spine as a hand reached out and snatched it before I could get it.
“Hey, I was about to— Oh. You,” I said dryly as Pepper held the math book to her chest, a smug look on her face.
“You,” she replied, pursing her lips as she regarded me. “Talking to an invisible person again?” she asked, a satisfied smile on her face.
“Actually, I was talking to myself, wondering where the textbook I found first could be.” I braced myself for a classic Pepper retort—probably something about how I might as well be invisible because I had no friends, blah blah blah. Been there, done that, took the souvenir photo.
Pepper tilted her head toward the back of the library, where Logan was balancing his chair on its back legs, glancing up at us from underneath the brim of his cap. His eyes were suspicious as they focused on Pepper.
“You seem cozy over there with the hot weirdo,” she said, brushing her hand through her chin-length brown hair.
I narrowed my eyes, my temper flaring protectively as she eyed Logan. I wanted to fling myself in between them, to shield him from her calculating, judgmental stare.
“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” I growled, and her eyes widened as she took a step back. Pepper quickly regained her composure, though, and graced me with her trademark condescending sneer instead.
“So, aren’t you going to say something bitchy to me? No Little Miss Know-It-All comment to me about how I deserved this from Matt after—” she dropped her already low voice even more “—the whole thing where I kissed Diego?”
“No. I’m not the one who goes around judging people and making fun of them and assuming that I know everything about them,” I retorted, and Pepper sucked her teeth, gripping the edges of the math textbook more tightly.
“This isn’t the first time he’s cheated,” she said abruptly, a challenging tone to her voice as she tilted her chin up. “It’s just the first time he’s done it so publicly. But I’m not stupid.”
“I never said you were.”
“I know. You’re actually the only person who hasn’t talked shit about me.”
I blinked slowly as I stared at her.
“The very definition of ironic, don’t you think?” I asked, gesturing back and forth between us.
“Whatever,” she huffed. “Just...just know that I’m not stupid.”
“Why do you even care what I think?”
“I don’t. I just don’t want you thinking you’re better than me. You’re a loser.”
“Loser, wow.” I held my hand over my heart, pretending to hiss in pain. “Don’t hurt yourself trying to come up with snappy comebacks, Paprika, I’m not here to gloat. I can’t make you feel any worse than you make yourself feel. All I want is the math book.”
She leaned against the bookshelf and exhaled through her nose, a frown on her face.
I held my palm out and sighed.
“Can I have it or what?”
Pepper dropped it into my waiting palm but gripped the sides as I tried to walk away with it.
“What?” I shut my eyes and exhaled. At this rate I was going to get five math problems done, at most.
“I’m not stupid, Paige. I’m going to get him back good for this.”
“Why bother? Just break up with him.” I knew I should just walk away, but I couldn’t help it—the insight into her weird little mind was too intriguing.
“I have to have a boyfriend,” she explained, as if it were the most obvious statement in the world. “You don’t get it. You don’t have the friends I do.”
Normally that would be an incredibly bitchy comment, since it was about my lack of friends and, of course, the fact that it was uttered by Pepper. But instead, I didn’t take offense. Her statement was too revealing, too sad.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have the friends you have either, then,” I replied, and Pepper’s perma-scowl was back on her face.
“You don’t get it.”
“Obviously.”
I wrenched the book from her hands and returned to my friends. Sure, two were invisible and one was half-warlock, but I wouldn’t trade them for all the “cool kids” in the world.
“What was that about?” Logan asked, his eyes shifting to stare at Pepper.
“I honestly have no idea,” I said, pulling on the end of my ponytail and curling a lock of hair around my knuckle as I relayed the odd encounter.
“I don’t get what she means about how she has to have a boyfriend, though. What’s the big deal?”
“Might I remind you that you have a boyfriend? A pretty great guy, by the way,” Logan interjected.
“He’s all right,” I said flippantly, but I squeezed his hand, earning a playful scowl in reply. “But seriously, you’re my boyfriend because you’re awesome. Why stick around with someone who sucks? This isn’t a play where you’re casting for the role of ‘boyfriend.’ Find the person first and then build the role around them.”
“That’s easy for you to say because you’ve always been on the outside,” Travis said.
“I wasn’t always,” I corrected him. “And besides, why does Pepper care what I think?”
“Because you are on the outside. And because, at the end of the day, Pepper is jealous of you,” Travis said, glancing back to where Pepper and Matt had taken up residency at a table with Andie and their usual posse of sycophants. They’d probably all dress alike even if we didn’t have to wear uniforms.
“Other than my grades, which are barely a fraction higher than hers are,” I pointed out, “what could she possibly be jealous of?”
“Pepper’s whole identity is wrapped up in her image. Being the popular girl, having the good grades, having the right boyfriend.”
“So why was that my problem?”
“Because you don’t give a shit, and everyone knows it. You aren’t mired in high school drama. You know, Paige—” Travis leaned forward, whispering even though Logan, Dottie and I were the only ones who could see him “—half the school thinks you make up being crazy just to avoid dealing with people. That half thinks you’re brilliant for it.”
“And the other half?”
He leaned back. “Oh, they think you’re crazy and they’re terrified of you. Remember, you did threaten to smack Pepper. No one else can see Dottie, so of course they think you’re nuts.”
“Yeah, I always forget about that when she’s slamming doors in my face and calling me a freak.” I pursed my lips as I considered this.
The bell rang, and I watched as Pepper and Matt silently gathered their things. He grabbed her around the waist and she kissed him on the cheek, giggling as her forehead knocked against the glasses he’d started wearing after Della. When Matt turned away from her to grab his backpack, though, her smile faded to a petulant little pout.
And I thought the act I put on for my parents was exhausting.
Perspective was an amazing thing. From where I’d been sitting—usually on a lukewarm radiator in the girls’ bathroom—my situation wasn’t enviable. I’d been held back a year, stuffed with pills, and until recently, the only person who believed that I wasn’t crazy was my dead best friend. I’d felt trapped in my situation—but apparently, I was the poster child for freedom.
“What’s got you so quiet?” Logan asked, throwing his arm over my shoulder as we walked down the stairs, headed toward the front door of the
school.
“Just thinking about what Travis said—about how I have all this freedom, because I don’t care what people think.”
I sighed, yanking my hair out of its elastic, and raked my hands through it.
“The thing is, though, I’m such a fraud,” I admitted, coiling and uncoiling the black elastic band in my hands. “I’m sitting here judging Pepper in my mind, when I’m no better. I pretended not to care, but I did care. I used to want so badly for my biggest problem in life to be something dumb, like finding a date for a dance like the stupid Spring Fling, which Dottie swore up and down was the most fun thing that ever happened. So I think I just convinced myself that I didn’t care, because it was easier than being disappointed all the time. I mean, it’s not like Bellevue Kelly’s ever actually going to have fun at a dance, right? So it was easier to just shut off all those daydreams where I was normal, even though that’s what I wanted.”
Logan pulled me closer, tucking me into his side.
“You were scared, and you found a way to cope,” he said, leaning into me as we walked down the hall.
“Being numb isn’t the same as being brave, and I’m getting credit for the wrong thing.” I rubbed my face with my hands. “Ah, I don’t know. I’m probably not making any sense.”
Logan regarded me silently for a moment before nodding his head, agreeing with whatever decision he’d made.
“Come with me,” he ordered, grabbing my hand and directing me back the way we’d come, weaving against the flow of exiting students as he led me to the auditorium. He opened the door and peeked inside, looking at me with a giddy smile on his face.
“What’s up? Are you thinking of joining the Drama Club?”
“Not exactly,” he said, leading me into the darkened theater. The stage was bare, save for the backdrop of a forest at dusk for the recent production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Logan led me through the seats, stopping briefly at the lighting board to flip a few switches. Tiny lights pierced the background on the stage, slowly twinkling on and off.
“Who knew Holy Ass had such high production values?” I stared in awe at the enchanting set. Logan hit one more button, and turned a few knobs, and the faint strains of classical music filled the air.
“I don’t know what this is, but it’s pretty,” I said, resting my forearms on the front of the lighting board as I watched Logan work.
“It sounds familiar,” Logan admitted, and I cocked an eyebrow.
“Are you secretly a connoisseur of classical music?” I asked, sliding off my backpack and setting it on a nearby seat.
“No, but I’ve seen a lot of car commercials,” he said, laughing. “Nothing sells a sports car like some old dead guy banging away on a piano.”
“So, why are we in here?” I tapped my hands on the ledge, but Logan merely replied with a cryptic smile.
He stepped away from the lighting board and took my hand again, leading me up the aisle to the front of the stage.
“Logan? What’s going on?”
“Get on stage,” he said, grabbing me by my hips and effortlessly lifting me up so I was sitting on the front of the stage. I scrambled to my feet as Logan gestured for me to take a few steps back before running to the front and leaping, bracing his palm against the boards as he effortlessly vaulted his body on the stage.
Damn, that’s hot.
Logan tossed his hat to the side, running his hands through his hair in an effort to tame it before holding his right hand out to me and bowing.
“Dance with me?” he asked sweetly, tilting his head up, the twinkle lights reflecting in his warm brown eyes.
“Here?”
“Are you going to take my hand and dance with me or what?”
He wiggled his fingers at me, and I placed my hand in his outstretched palm. Logan quickly tightened his grip and spun me into him, my back hitting his chest with a thud. He held me tightly as we began to sway slowly to the music.
“You said you would never go to a school dance,” he whispered in my ear, his breath warm on my skin. “Well, you’re now dancing in a school. So technically, this is a school dance. And I think this is a lot nicer than dancing around some balloons in a gym, don’t you?”
I nodded, squeezing his hands as I snuggled back against his chest.
“Especially right now. The wrestling team is in the gym. Slow dancing to the soundtrack of their grunts might be a mood killer,” Logan said, taking my hand and spinning me once, so I faced him. Well, more like I face-planted into his chest with a thud, and I stepped back, rubbing my nose.
“Sorry, I guess I don’t have any fancy moves down,” Logan apologized, and I clasped my hands around his neck as his hands settled on my hips.
“I don’t need them.” We swayed for a bit, until the song ended—and then continued dancing without music, slowly moving around the stage.
“So, can I ask you a question?” I gave Logan a hopeful smile, and he groaned.
“Oh, no, you’re asking. That means it’s gotta be bad.” He took my hand and spun me away from him. I twirled back, landing against him with a thud again, and we both laughed.
“No way, buddy. You’re not going to distract me with these sensual, smooth dance moves.”
“But they’re the sensual-est and the smoothest. Watch this,” he teased, turning me and trying to dip me. Instead, we ended up with my back against his chest as he held my hand over my shoulder, attempting to dip me backward.
“This isn’t right,” he muttered. “It looks easier in the movies.”
I spun around and placed my hands around his neck again.
“So my question....”
“Yes, dear?” Logan asked with a resigned sigh.
“What was Travis talking about with the douchebag brigade?”
Logan bristled, and we stopped swaying for a moment.
“Please?” I asked, and Logan relented.
“They talk about the girls in school.”
“And?” I prompted, and Logan gritted his teeth.
“And they rate them on their, uh, presumed skill set. When your name came up—” Logan paused, shutting his eyes and tensing as he recalled whatever they said about me “—I couldn’t stand by quietly. I told them to stop.”
“And they listened?”
“Well, I may have driven my point home by knocking one of Vogel’s friends on his ass. Oops,” he said with a self-satisfied grin.
“Sounds like he deserved it,” I murmured, and we began swaying again.
“Oh, he did,” Logan said, kissing me on the top of my head. “There was some bullshit bro talk after, like ‘Sorry, bro, didn’t realize you guys were together.’ They stopped talking about you, but every girl they talk about is important to someone. So I just said something about learning to have respect for women and to stop talking about all the girls like that.”
“You just said?” I repeated, arching an eyebrow. “That’s all it took?”
“Well, it helps when you’re really good at blocking a punch.” Logan shrugged, spinning me again, this time more smoothly. “I mean, these guys aren’t exactly assassins, so it wasn’t hard to thwart their lame attempts at fighting. I never had a rep at a school before. I think they’re all afraid of me.” He raised his shoulders, giving me a guilty smile.
“Someone has the hot bad boy with a heart of gold image down.”
“I’m clearly better at that than I am at dancing.”
I rested my hand against his cheek.
“I can’t believe you did that,” I whispered. Logan stiffened, his face tense.
“Are you mad?”
“Mad? You took on a locker room full of guys to defend my and every other girl’s honor. I’m a second away from falling to the ground and swooning. I’m talking legit romance movie swoonage.”
/>
“It wasn’t a big deal,” he said, turning his head to kiss the palm of my hand.
“It’s a very big deal,” I replied softly. “Why are you so perfect sometimes?”
“I’m not.” Logan took my hand from where it rested against his cheek, lacing our fingers together. He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes downcast.
“I want to be worthy of you, but I’m not perfect. Paige, I’m so far from it.”
His voice was heartbreakingly sad, causing my chest to ache.
“What are you talking about? Logan, you’re the best person I’ve ever met,” I insisted, squeezing his hand. “You’re the only one who knows the real me.”
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I have to tell you something.” His voice trembled as he gripped my hands, as if he were trying to keep me rooted to my spot. As if I were going anywhere.
“So, tell me,” I said, desperation creeping into my hushed voice.
“I’m terrified you’ll hate me, even though I deserve it. But I—”
“Is this a private party?” Travis called, interrupting us with an exuberantly cheerful voice.
“Great timing, Travis,” Logan hissed, dropping his forehead to my shoulder before releasing my hands, turning to glare at our towheaded dead friend as he sauntered down the aisle, dragging along a reluctant Dottie.
“We’re interrupting them,” she loudly whispered, pulling Travis back a few feet.
“Can you give us a minute?” I asked as Travis grinned devilishly at Dottie, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“Come on, they’re always interrupting us,” Travis replied, dragging her back and wrapping his arms around her. “Payback’s a bitch.”
“So am I if you don’t give us some space, Travis,” I retorted, darting my eyes to Logan. His face was guarded—whatever he was about to tell me now locked away beneath his steely expression.
“Oh, please, like you guys aren’t going to go up to your roof and have tons of alone time all weekend,” Travis said as Dottie stared at the stage in awe.
“This is so romantic,” she cooed, clasping her hands together.