Last Summer (14 page)

Sarcastically, Logan says, “Um, okaaay . .
.” Like I’m the crazy one who has issues.

I check my side mirrors before tearing off
the shoulder, tires squealing, leaving a trail of black,
burnt-rubber smoke behind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Logan
asks. “You’re kinda scaring the shit outta me.”

“I just . . . have a lot on my mind, okay? I
promise to get you to your parents’ house in one piece.” At least
that’s a promise I can keep.

With a heavy, extended sigh, Logan finishes
giving me directions to his home. We don’t exchange any additional
words for the remainder of the way. Not until Logan instructs me to
turn on his road.

As I slowly creep up the street, Logan leans
forward, squinting his eyes. “Yep, they’re still there. The truck’s
outside, and so is Mom’s car.”

Glancing in the same direction, I notice the
only house with a car and truck parked on the paved driveway. The
house is a modest, two-story structure, with a coffee-colored paint
job and bright pink, orange, and yellow flowers under the two front
windows. It’s one of those cookie-cutter homes, the ones people buy
so they can live the American dream and feel like they’re in a safe
neighborhood.

I pull the RAV4 to a stop on the curb. Logan
nearly leaps out of the passenger seat, but I can’t say I blame
him; he’s been caged up with a crazy, emotional girl. But more than
that, I think he’s just really excited to see his parents after six
long months.

“C’mon,” he says, gesturing for me to get
out.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so,
Logan.”

He jerks back, like I smacked him. “What?
Don’t be silly. I’m sure they’ll love to—”

“Logan, honey? Is that you?” A middle-aged
woman steps out of the front door with a shocked expression, like
she can’t believe her son has returned. Like she thought she’d
never see him again. Her shoulder-length, brown hair flutters with
the summer breeze, as does the knee-length dress she wears.

“Hey, Mom,” says Logan. “I’ve, uh . . .”—he
clears his throat—“I’ve missed you.”

She squeals. “Oh, my dear, sweet boy.” They
close the distance between them and embrace in a long, bittersweet
hug. His mom strokes his hair, and I can’t be sure, but I swear,
even from this distance, I see tears slide down her cheeks. She
murmurs more words to him. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but I’m
sure her words are filled with love. “Logan, who is that with
you?”

He collects himself, like he almost forgot
I’m here. “Oh, Mom, this is Chloe. She’s helped me get clean.
Chloe, this is my mom, Marcie.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say.

“You too, dear.” She smiles. “Why don’t you
two come inside and drink some of this lemonade I just
prepared?”

Logan glances back at me. “Chloe, you
coming?”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

Frowning, Logan cuts me off. “Don’t be like
that. C’mon.”

So much for bailing and forgetting any of
this ever happened. I lock up the RAV4 and trudge in behind Logan
and Marcie. The inside of the house is decorated in the same tan
colors as the paint on the outside, with the exception of black
accessories—candle holders, bookshelves, and even the dining room
table. Marcie has lit a couple of candles, and the aroma creates a
calming atmosphere. Which is exactly what Logan needs right now, if
he’s going to discuss borrowing five thousand dollars.

“Where’s Dad and Luke?” Logan asks as he and
I sit down in the living room.

Marcie busies herself with fixing us
lemonade. “Lucas had practice. Sally took him and her boys, so I
didn’t have to go. He should be home soon. And your father will be
home anytime now from work. They had him pulling overtime again.
He’s been doing that a lot lately. Here you are,” she says, handing
me a cold glass. She gives the other glass to Logan, who sits on
the couch across from me, and then sits down beside him. “So,
Chloe, tell me a little bit about yourself.”

Well, I definitely didn’t come here to be
interviewed.
“Um, well, I’m from Cherryview Falls, three hours
north of here. I was an honor student in high school—I just
graduated in May—and on the track team, and I’m a total movie nerd.
I haven’t decided where I’ll attend college yet, but I have a few
applications filled out.” I shrug. “That’s about it, I guess.”

“Uh-huh. I see.” Is that a disapproving look
that crosses her face? Like I’m the most boring person on the
planet, so what am I doing with her son? Interesting. “And how did
you meet Logan?”

Logan nearly chokes on his drink, but I
continue. “I found him in an old, abandoned cottage by the lake. I
felt bad for him, and I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“He must’ve needed your help quite badly,”
she says. “He wouldn’t let us help him for months.”

“Mom!”

She sighs. “Logan, honey, it’s the truth.
Your father and I love you dearly, but you are as stubborn as they
come.” She turns her attention toward me again. “We offered to send
him to a wonderful rehabilitation program, but he refused. When
there were no other options, his father kicked him out. It was the
saddest day of my life.”

“I ran into Charlie,” Logan says. “He said
you went looking for me that night.”

Marcie nods. “I stayed out for hours, but I
couldn’t find you.”

“I’m not one hundred percent better, Mom,
but I’m trying.”

She wraps one arm around Logan’s shoulders.
“It’s all that we ask for. At least you can say you tried. If this
doesn’t work out—”

“It’ll work out this time. I promise.”

Marcie contemplates this for a moment, then
says, “Okay, baby. I believe you.” Abruptly, she stands up. “I’ve
got to make a couple of phone calls, but I’ll be back shortly.
There are some chocolate chip cookies on the bar in the kitchen, if
either of you want any.” With that, she walks down the hallway, to
the back end of the house. I assume she’s calling Logan’s dad,
maybe even her friend who took Lucas to practice, to let them know
Logan’s home.

“Are you nervous?” I ask him, noticing his
leg bouncing up and down.

“A little.”

“Don’t be,” I say. “I’m sure they’ll be
happy to get you out of this mess once and for all.”

Marcie returns a little while later, looking
refreshed. “Your father is on his way home, and Lucas should be
here soon. Sally’s pulling the boys out of practice early. He
doesn’t know yet that you’re here.”

“He’s in for a big surprise,” says
Logan.

Logan, Marcie, and I chat about what our
summer has been like, how the heat is unbearable this season, and
how Logan’s family has been getting by without him present. I think
it’s good for Logan to hear that his family is still hurting with
him gone; it lets him know he’s needed. All this time, I’ve pinned
them for the type of people who don’t care what happens to their
family, who take advantage of how good life is. But I was wrong.
It’s blatantly obvious that Marcie cares very much for the
well-being of her children, and she and Logan’s dad have been
concerned from the start.

A young boy, who I can only assume is Lucas,
walks through the front door. Sally and her boys aren’t far behind
him.

“Hey, Mom, I’m home!” Lucas yells. He sees
me and stops. “Who are you?”

“I’m Chloe.”

“Oh. Are you my mom’s friend?”

“No, I’m Logan’s friend.”

His eyes light up at the mention of his
brother. “Logan?”

I nod.

As soon as he enters the living room and
sees Logan, he freezes. He takes in the sight of his long-lost
brother, like this is all a dream. A very real dream. “Logan!” he
shrieks, running over to his older brother with outstretched arms.
Logan picks him up and swings him around and around, like he weighs
nothing at all.

“I missed you, Luke. I missed you so much.”
Logan sets Lucas down, but Lucas won’t let go. His arms remain
circled around Logan’s waist. He buries his face in Logan’s shirt,
maybe embarrassed that we see him crying. Logan bends over and
whispers in Lucas’s ear. Lucas nods.

“It’s good to see you again, Logan,” says
Sally.

“Oh, thank you, Mrs. Hardy.”

“We should have a barbeque at my house this
weekend. There’s plenty of room for the boys to play,” she
says.

Marcie nods her head in agreement. “That’s
sounds lovely. I’ll be in touch. And, Sally, thank you again.”

Sally smiles at Marcie, Logan and Lucas, and
then at me before she grabs her boys and leaves.

Lucas sits down next to Logan on the couch,
snuggling up against his brother. Marcie sits on the other side,
wiping the tears from her eyes, and wraps her arms around both of
her boys. I feel like an outsider, watching this small family
reunited. But then I pinch myself, because I helped. I did this. I
brought Logan here.

A smile of satisfaction curves my lips.
Never in my life have I felt as accomplished as I do now. It’s a
good sentiment.

The doorbell rings, breaking us out of our
pensive trances. Marcie stands up and fixes her hair, then strides
to the foyer. On the other side of the door is a girl, about my
age, with long, black hair, tanned skin, and the brightest
aqua-colored eyes I’ve ever seen. Marcie welcomes her inside and
leads her to the living room. The girl eyes me for a moment, but
then her focus is intent on Logan, who looks like he’s seen a
ghost.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Hey, Logan. I’ve missed you.” She waits,
and then adds, “We’ve all missed you.”

Seconds roll by, and the room is so tense I
can puncture the air with a knife.

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” he
says. “What are you doing here?”

“Logan,” Marcie pipes up, “is that any way
to act towards Audrey? I thought things were good between you
two.”

Say what?
Okay, so my gut is right:
they have a past. Or
had
a past, I should say. I haven’t
seen this girl patrolling the streets of Sandy Shores, searching
for him.

“We were good, once upon a time, and then
she dumped me right after you guys kicked me out.”

Audrey rolls her eyes and plops down in the
recliner next to the couch. “Oh, please. I never broke up with you.
You were the one who pushed me away because you thought I couldn’t
handle your addiction. But we
never
broke up.”

Why do I have the feeling that last part was
directed at me? If what she says is true, this means Logan has had
a girlfriend the entire time we’ve been together. It means we never
really meant a thing; we were a lie.

Suddenly, I’m suffocating. The weight of the
room literally feels like it’s crashing down on my chest. The walls
are closing in. I can’t breathe. Oh, God help me, I can’t
breathe.

“So,” I begin, catching what little air I
can, “you’re his girlfriend?”

Audrey gives me a smug look. “Don’t tell me
you actually fell for him. He’s very convincing with his hugs and
kisses and empty, broken promises. He always has been. And trust
me—if there’s anyone who knows this, it’s me. But yes, for the
record, I am his girlfriend.”

I catch the last bit as I exit through the
front door, somehow making it to the sidewalk before I throw
up.

Sixteen
•
Logan

“
C
hloe! Chloe,
stop!” She’s not listening to me, though. Through a fit of tears,
she runs around to the driver’s side and jumps in. Tires squeal as
she takes off down the road and out of sight. I just stand there,
dumbfounded, wishing she would’ve believed me over Audrey, wishing
she would’ve at least
listened
to what I had to say.

Audrey and I haven’t been together for six
months now. I don’t care what she says. The girl broke up with me
because she couldn’t handle my addiction problems. Never once did I
see her looking for me. If anything, the bitch was probably
spreading rumors and lies about how I overdosed and died, left her
for another girl, or ran away from everyone and everything this
town had to offer. Why can’t anyone just tell the truth these
days?

“That’s too bad,” Audrey says behind me. “I
hope you didn’t actually have feelings for her.”

I whip around to face her, trying to keep my
rage in check. “First of all, you are
not
my fucking
girlfriend. And even if you were, you’re a shitty one. How many
times did you look for me, Audrey?” I might as well have slapped
her, but her expression morphs back into her typical, sour face.
“Tell me how many!”

She chews on her bottom lip. “Well, there
was this one time I thought about—”

“You
thought
about it, but you never
actually went through with the idea, did you?” I snort. “Like I
said,
shitty
girlfriend. Not that you were ever a good one,
anyway. You sucked at keeping our private life private, you sucked
at kissing, you sucked in bed, and you sucked because you made me
feel like a piece of shit in front of all our friends. You were
always picking on me, embarrassing me—and for what? To make you
look and feel better? Chloe isn’t any of those things; she’s twice
the person you’ll ever be.”

Audrey rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Logan.
You’re just pissed because I ruined what little affection there was
between you two, if there was any. She looked like one of those
brainiacs who only care about homework, and who stay in on weekends
because they don’t have any friends.
Please.
You could do
so
much better.”

“Chloe is better. Better than you, better
than anyone I’ve met. She may keep her nose stuck in books, but at
least that means she’s smarter than you’ll ever be. At least that
means she’ll get somewhere in life and won’t rely on her daddy’s
money.” I glare at her.

“Oh, whatever! I won’t rely on my dad’s
money my entire life. In case you were wondering—”