Chapter 36
LOGAN
My phone rings, snapping me out of my head.
Hours later, the sight of Alex on the floor, surrounded by the mess of ceramic, and so emotional still sears my heart.
I didn’t want to leave him, but I had to.
After I cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, I wanted to stay and make sure he was okay, but I could tell he wanted me to leave him alone.
He seemed so close to letting me in. I thought I might have been able to get through to him, but he put his walls back up as soon as Vicki told him to wipe his tears and get back to work.
I just don’t know how he could go from giving me that smile in my dorm room and melting into my arms to staring at me so coldly in front of his house.
I just wanted to help him, and he pushed me away like I was the one keeping him down.
I want to tell him that he can have me and the things he loves, too.
I want to show him how much he means to me.
That moment in the Honeycomb kitchen truly showed me how much he’s struggling.
I think Alex is very used to doing everything himself.
He doesn’t have anyone holding his hand through it all, and he’s learned to become hyper-independent as a trauma response, or whatever my psychology teacher calls it.
I almost forget that my phone has been ringing for too long for me not to answer it.
I press answer and hold the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Logan, baby. How are you?” my mom’s voice rings from the other side.
My stomach doesn’t churn the way it usually does when I hear her voice anymore. There’s still a slight flicker of insecurity, but it doesn’t shake me or make me want to hang up on her.
“I’m good. School’s getting tougher with midterms, but I’m hanging in there.”
“And everything’s okay with your knee?” she asks immediately.
I open my mouth to say yes, that it’s okay.
Even though I limp every time I walk. Even though it aches every time I sit down or go down the stairs. Even though I feel like I’m not progressing with physical therapy.
But I never tell her that.
Maybe that’s why I hate it when she asks—because I lie.
And because I want to stop talking about my injury like it’s the only thing important about me to my mom.
Just as Dave sees me as someone to help, not just a client, and how Alex sees his mom as family, not someone to care for, I don’t want to be seen as the son defined by his injury.
“Physically, yes. But Mom—I really want to stop talking about my injury.”
I’m terrified there’s going to be some kind of blowback, even though my mom wouldn’t do that.
“What are you talking about, honey? I just asked you one question about it.”
I sigh. “I know, Mom, but we have this conversation every time we talk.”
She clucks her tongue. “It’s only because I’m concerned about you. I know how wrecked you were when you got... hit, and I just—”
Her voice breaks on the other end, and I hate hearing it.
“It’s just me trying to make sure you’re doing okay with what happened.”
“Then just ask that. Ask me how I’m feeling emotionally. Yeah, I know I’m a guy and a retired football player, so I’m not really used to talking about how I feel, but you know me better than that, Mom.”
For some reason, I’m getting so emotional from being this honest with her. Maybe it’s acknowledging how much grief this injury has caused me and how desperately I want to break free from it taking over my life. Or maybe it’s just something that’s hard for me to say.
She sighs. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“I’m just really tired of this injury being everything that I am. I’m so much more than it. Yes, it still bothers me, but I don’t want it to be the only thing you think about when you talk to me.”
She’s silent on the other end for a few moments, and I wonder if I’ve upset her. I’m pretty much throwing her concern back in her face, but if I let this go on any longer, I’m going to be her injured son forever, unable to grow and blossom beyond it.
“Okay. How are you feeling about your knee, Logan?”
I sigh, and emotion bubbles up in my chest at the question.
“Sometimes it feels like it’s the only thing weighing me down, and sometimes I forget about it completely, especially when I’m around—”
I grit my teeth as emotion bubbles out of my eyes and spills from my mouth.
“Around who?”
I rub my face. “Alex. My friend Alex.”
I picture his warm smile and the steadfastness of his hands in mine, and I ache for him to be here. Life feels so much emptier without him around. I have my own life I’m trying to build, but he’s given me a new vigor for living, and it’s not the same without him to enjoy it with.
“Is Alex... special to you?”
My breath catches in my throat as I realize what my mom is asking me.
Maybe I can somehow get around telling her what else he means to me.
“Yeah. He is. He’s like my best friend right now.”
“Is he a new friend?”
“Yeah. He’s a barista at this new cafe on campus that I go to.”
My mom gasps. “You drink coffee now?”
I chuckle. “Yeah. Guess I forgot to tell you that. Are you mad?”
She laughs. “Of course not, honey. It’s addictive, just remember that.”
I scratch the back of my head. “Yeah, I’ve already figured that out.”
“Tell me about Alex.”
With some difficulty, I tell her how we met. I tell her that he’s one of the only people who’s made the past few months feel less heavy.
How he makes me feel like I can be myself. How he makes me feel like I’m more than a failure in every sense of the word. How he’s a reprieve from the world of football and has opened up so many new possibilities in my life.
“And Alex is... just a friend?”
I freeze. “What?”
“Is Alex just your friend?”
Anxiety pulses through me. My mom doesn’t even know that my feelings for Alex are romantic. I’ve never felt this way about a guy before.
This is an entirely new world to me, and my mom only knows me as the ladies’ man. As the guy who dated Mikayla for a year.
“I—no. He’s more than that...”
I grit my teeth, trying to force the truth out of myself, because why shouldn’t I throw this in while everything else is already spilling out of me?
“We’re, uh... we’re dating.”
There’s silence on the other end for a moment, and panic builds in my stomach.
“I’m happy for you, honey. Whoever it is you’re with.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. This is completely new territory for me, and the last thing I needed was for my mom to be confused or unaccepting after dealing with so much bigotry from my old teammates.
“Thank you, Mom. I’m lucky to have you as a mother.”
“Oh, honey,” she says, her voice thick with emotion.
I feel a sense of closeness that I haven’t felt with her in a while. For so long, I’ve been trying to push her away and pretend that everything’s fine.
That if I just keep my head down and don’t let anyone or anything affect me, I’ll be okay.
But I’m reveling in these moments where I can actually tell her what’s going on with me without having to brace myself for the wave of pity she used to throw my way—only to remind me of how much of my future had been ripped away from me.
Now, the future feels even more full of possibilities than it did before my injury.
“I just—we’re in a rough patch right now, and he’s not sure he can deal with me. His mom’s sick, he has a job, he’s on the newspaper, and on top of classes... he just has a lot on his plate.”
She sighs. “Baby, do you really like him? More than Mikayla?”
My chest burns. “I... I think I do, yeah.”
“Then you have to tell him, sweetheart. Put your cards on the table. That’s all you can do. And if he doesn’t want you, that doesn’t mean you’re anything less than you were before. You’re a good son—”
She goes silent for a moment, and my limbs freeze as I wait for her to continue.
“—a good man. You deserve someone who chooses you for everything that you are. Injured, successful, constellation connoisseur, recent coffee addict. All of it. If Alex doesn’t want that, then it’s his loss.
But if he does, he should want you. All the good and bad parts of you, and he should want them badly.
And remember that no matter what, you’ll be okay, honey. ”
A burning determination rises in me as my mom’s words settle deep in my chest. She raised me to be brave, to go after what I want, and to live earnestly. That part of me still exists, even after the car accident.
“Thank you, Mom. I think you’re right.”
“Go get that boy,” she says, her voice thick with endearment.
I laugh. “I will.”
I glance around my room and over at the stuffed kangaroo sitting on my bed.
Theo smiles back at me.
“I gotta go, Mom. I’ll call you again soon, okay?”
“Okay, Lo. Tell me how it goes,” she says knowingly.
“I will.”
We say our goodbyes, and I grab my bag and keyring before sprinting for the door.
I have to get to Alex. If I don’t tell him how I feel right now, I could lose him. And I refuse to let him get away.