I stared at my manuscript until my head hurt. I'd spent so much time with Logan, I'd barely written anything yet. Sure, my diary was full of retellings and inside jokes, but my manuscript was still at five pages.
I poised my fingers over the small, black letter tabs on the typewriter, but laid my hands back down as I remembered yesterday afternoon, just before the rain forced us indoors. I'd told him almost everything. No one else knew what had happened with Becca, at least, no one knew the real reason behind my disappearing act. But now, Logan had a small detail that held us closer together.
When he first arrived to Pueblo, I figured that I would be too nerdy, too boring to catch his attention. But I was wrong, clearly. He'd found me on the beach and be-friended me, even when I'd forgotten how badly I wanted a friend. And now, even though the promise of a quiet day lay ahead of me, I yearned for his company. He'd become familiar in a way. Like someone you go to, no matter what happened.
As if on cue, the doorbell rang.
"Lex!" My sister's voice carried up the stairs easily and into my room. "It's Logan!"
I stepped out of my room and stood on the landing, like I'd done so many times before I learned mom was sick. He was waiting for me in the foyer, his green tee stressed and his khaki shorts standing up and away from his tanned legs. His once dark hair was now a dark blond and several strands were still wet from his shower.
"Hey," he said, lifting a hand in a quick wave. "What's up?"
An idea hit me and I said, "Come up."
His eyebrows rose, but he climbed the stairs two at a time without any questions. I caught him checking out the second floor, his eyes resting on my parents' closed bedroom door. The walls were full of black and white photographs of us in group and individual shots. Hallway tables sat here and there with seashells perched upon the dusty glass.
I led him to my room and pointed at the plain white door.
"Welcome," I whispered shyly, before opening the door.
He stopped at the doorway and I tried to ignore the butterflies blooming in my stomach. His eyes surveyed everything. The posters of bands I once loved, my book collection, pictures of long lost friends and my family. One window let sunshine in since I tied the curtains back when I woke up, while the other remained hidden behind the yellow curtains.
"So that's where you were watching me from," he said quietly, nodding at the curtained window. I blushed.
"Not a lot of new people come to Pueblo, let alone move in next door." He took a step inside and eyed my typewriter. "Mrs. Hilly lived in your house for decades, until she had to go to a nursing home."
He nodded. "Yeah, my parents told me."
"Do you want to sit?"
He sat on my bed and watched me expectantly.
"What do you want to do?"
His smile widened. "You tell me, you invited me up here."
"Right," I said. "A movie?"
I moved across the room and began searching for the perfect movie. It wasn't long before Logan said, "This character sounds just like me."
I paused and kept my eyes on the DVDs, feigning ease. "He does?"
"Definitely." Pages fluttered as he scanned my story. "This is really good."
I randomly picked an action flick and turned around. "Really?"
"Yeah, it's pretty cool." He gave me the same look from the beach and I felt my insides turn to mush. His eyes were wrinkled with admiration. Several seconds passed before we broke our gaze.
"Thanks," I muttered, placing the movie into the player.
We were watching the movie for about ten minutes before I paused it.
"Hey," Logan teased, "it was just getting good!"
"I was thinking, you know so much about me, but I barely know anything about you."
"Alright," he twisted on my bed until he was facing me. "What do you want to know?"
"What was Toronto like?"
He smiled down at his palms on his lap. "Bright and loud, unlike Pueblo. There were usually people everywhere. Something was always going on."
"Do you miss it?"
"At first, like crazy. I had this plan that I would leave and go back as soon as I graduated high school."
I thought for a moment and bit my lower lip. "And now?"
His lips twitched up at the corners. He tucked one of the loose curls hanging by my forehead, behind my ear and said, "Not so much."
I breathed in and out heavily, my heart speeding like a runaway train. We were so close that if I leaned forward, if I moved just a few inches, we would be kissing. His eyes were trained on mine and I knew that his heart was racing too. I wanted to feel the coarse hairs on his cheeks, where he'd forgotten to shave. I wanted to dot every freckle and trace every contour of his face. The string that pulled us together was so taut that I could feel the tension in my shoulders and my back, urging me to move forward.
Elena burst into my room and the string broke, both Logan and I moving back a few inches.
"Lexy, dad said you could drive me to Monica's house," she said in a matter-of-fact tone, unaware of what she'd interrupted. She looked at me expectantly until I sighed and nodded. "Perfect, give me ten minutes."
Logan and I watched her leave, the door barely shutting behind her.
"You want me to go with you guys?" He asked, awkwardly smiling at me.
"Nah, it's far," I explained with a shrug.
He shook his head and beamed. "I'm coming."
No other moment like the one in my room happened again and just as the sun was setting, Logan and I separated with the promise of the fair tomorrow morning.