Chapter 17 #2
GirlWithBangs: anyone else feel like Lacedon are the perfect fit??
Hunt4Bulldogs: no wayyyyy. she’s related to the grim reaper—landon can’t date devil adjacent! he can do so much better
ForgetForever: with how picky he is, you’d think he’d be into someone who doesn’t have grown out roots and bad fashion. sorry. someone had to say it.
GirlWithBangs: I think she dresses cute ):
Hunt4Bulldogs: you can be wrong LOL
JDBobcatBabe01: It’s so weird, right?? something doesn’t add up…
I gripped my phone tighter, my thumbs moving before I realized what I was doing.
MOBobcatBabe02: Why can’t we just be happy for them?
I couldn’t even explain why I commented it. It wasn’t as if I’d been a true Lacedon shipper since their public announcement—because, to be honest, Lacey had a bit of a hard attitude to swallow—but seeing everyone join the Lacey Churchill hate train bugged me. Some of the comments were plain mean.
The rush of adrenaline that came with hitting the post button almost made me lightheaded, but it was short-lived.
I hadn’t tagged her, but would Jade be notified since she’d commented on this message thread?
Would she open it, recognize my username, and see how I defended the new couple—therefore going against her take?
I rushed to press the delete button, but at that exact second, my screen lit up with an incoming call. Logan.
My insides dipped, this time for a whole other reason.
I flung myself up out of my cozy laying position, one of my stuffed animals tumbling onto the floor.
Smoothing down my hair—which was ridiculous, since this wasn’t a videocall—I let out a single slow breath before pressing the green button.
“Hi,” I greeted in a small voice, tucking my knees closer to my chest.
Logan’s voice was equally as soft. “Hi.” Just the one word melted something inside me, chasing away the thoughts and bad feelings that’d bloomed the second I’d opened Babble. Logan was like a mood stabilizer, turning all the negativity to off. “I told myself I shouldn’t call you.”
Well, that chased away some of my warmth. “Why not?”
“If I was cool, I’d say I want to keep you missing me,” he replied. “That playing aloof is probably the route I should take.”
I shuffled down lower onto my pillows, clutching the stuffed goose to my chest. “Aloof, huh?”
“Sometimes I’m afraid if I bother you too much, you’ll get tired of me. That there are only so many phone calls before I go from fun to talk to to annoying.”
“I wouldn’t have taken you to have an anxious attachment style.”
There was a pause. “Well, that makes me sound even lamer.”
I grinned as I rolled onto my side, now staring at my closed door. “It’s okay, I think needy guys are hot.”
The phone call went silent. It wasn’t the flirtiest thing I’d ever said to him before, but maybe it was because it was after ten at night, with our voices hushed and directly in each other’s ears, that it suddenly felt more weighted. More… embarrassing.
I pressed my lips to the stuffed animal’s head, wracking my brain for a response to cut through the awkwardness. “Uh, how was your day?”
“Good.” Logan gave a slight cough. “I worked after practice. How was your day?”
Air went out of me. I couldn’t tell Logan about what had happened at cheer practice, what Jade had asked me to do.
I could just picture what his face would look like—he’d try to hide it, but the look of well, that’s a bad idea would be obvious in the way he pressed his lips together and scrunched his brow.
“Good.” The lie tasted bitter in my mouth, and I flopped onto my back. I couldn’t get comfortable. “Lowkey.”
“Your tone says otherwise.”
“My tone.” I pressed my lips together to fight a smile. “You don’t know my tones.”
“I do. Better than you think.”
I buried my nose into the stuffed animal, letting it hide my smile.
“When you’re excited, your voice goes up an octave. Or two. And you’ll talk fast—like you have to rush to get it all out of you before you explode.” Logan’s voice was tender as he recalled. “When you’re upset, your voice is lower. Slower. Like you’re thinking before you speak.”
“And you think I’m speaking lower and slower now?”
“I know you are.” Logan drew a quiet breath in and held it for a moment, as if debating. “I’d love to know why, if you want to tell me.”
His words were almost hypnotizing, soothing the unsettled feeling within me. “Jade and I…” I trailed off, because how was I supposed to finish that? We had a fight? Except not exactly. “Things are just strained.”
“Because of us?”
“No,” I answered quickly, rolling onto my side and looking out the darkened window. I couldn’t be still. “She still doesn’t know.”
Logan was quiet.
I should’ve told him about what happened at cheer practice. On one hand, I wanted to—I wanted to spill everything to him, just like always—but on the other hand, I already knew what he’d say. You shouldn’t do things just because Jade tells you to.
“Do you have anything going on Wednesday?” he asked suddenly, plucking me from my thoughts.
“Just cheer practice.” My stomach did a little flip. “And whatever you want to do.”
There was a smile in his voice when he spoke, as well as a boyish quality. “Perfect. Mark it in your calendar. Whatever Logan wants to do.”
“Are you going to keep it a secret from me again?”
“Isn’t that part of the fun?”
I looked over at my nightstand, spotting where I’d placed the fire-breathing dragon beside my phone charger. It was facing my bed, as if ready to protect me with its fire against any threat while I slept. “One of these days, I need to pick a date for us.”
“You can pick instead,” he tried to say.
But I cut him off. “No, no, it’s too late. It’s already marked in my calendar. Whatever Logan wants to do.”
“Next time,” Logan murmured in promise. “Even though it was technically your idea to get manicures.”
I looked down at my light blue nails, smirking. “Admit it, you liked it.”
Logan hadn’t chosen colored polish, of course, but I had talked him into getting a clear coat Saturday after stopping by the game store. He watched me throughout it all with a sour look on his face, but I would swear that every time I looked away, I’d catch him smiling from the corner of my eye.
“I admit nothing.” Logan chuckled, a soft sound that skated across my skin. “Want to meet at Expresso’s, then? Say, six?”
“Let’s meet at six-thirty.” That would give me time to freshen up after practice, and I wouldn’t be showing up all sweaty and frizzy. “And actually… do you want to pick me up?”
“Madison?” A knock came at my door. “Are you talking to someone in there?”
My pulse jumped in surprise, but my bedroom door remained closed. She normally never caught me—she usually was already in bed. “Just Jade!”
“Phones off.” She knocked on the door again for emphasis. “It’s almost eleven.”
“Let’s say goodnight here,” Logan murmured, cutting me off when I started to object. “I don’t want to get you in trouble. Six-thirty, Wednesday, your place. I’ll see you then?”
I didn’t want to hang up. I wanted to lie back on my pillows, stare up at the ceiling, and talk with him until we fell asleep. I wanted to listen to Logan’s voice to drown out the incessant buzz of my own. “It’s a date,” I said instead.
We hung up, leaving me alone in the silence of my room.
Jade owed me this, I decided. If I was going to ask Coach to cut me as a co-captain, I was allowed to go on another date with Logan.
I wouldn’t feel guilty about it, and I wouldn’t second-guess it.
Not when Logan was the only thing that felt right lately.
And that, alone, was a strange thought. In a Bobcat world, how could a Bulldog feel right?