Brett had to know. He had to know about that letter, and he somehow managed to keep it a secret from me. As much as I liked to keep my language relatively clean, I couldn't help but wonder how the fuck he managed to pull that off.

I scanned it one more time to make sure I read it correctly. It was the exact same letter as the first time I went through it. I read it again, but it still didn't magically change.

I didn't even mean to read it, but when I caught a glimpse of the sweet, feminine handwriting on the paper, my eyes were drawn to it, because all my life I wanted to have nice writing like that. Morgan could have written a death note, and I still would have thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

But that was beside the point. I didn't know who this Morgan person was, but she seemed to know Logan very well.

I looked up at Brett. "Has Logan ever mentioned a Morgan before?"

Ugh. Her name ended in -gan­ ­just like ours. It disgusted me.

"Not to me, no," Brett replied. "Why?"

He stirred the pot of shit, then pretended he didn't know why it was sickening.

I shook my head. "You know why. He's got this cute letter from a girl named Morgan, and that's not me."

Logan never let me get close to him. He'd always lure me in like a fish, then throw me back out into the open ocean (and even though I liked the ocean, it was quite lonely out there). It wasn't his aloof personality, but the fact that he already had someone that he was close to.

Who else did I have besides him? No one.

Maybe I was just being dramatic. Maybe Morgan was his sister, or his cousin, or his best friend (who was either a girl he wasn't interested in or a guy with ultra-feminine handwriting). Those were three plausible other solutions that I had to consider. Out of all the possibilities, there was only one that meant I was a side bitch.

"I need to talk to Logan," I said.

"Reagan, you can't do that. You're mad about it, then he'll get defensive and lie, and you'll never find out the truth," Brett replied.

"I've taken your advice way too many times already. I'm going to talk to him. Now."

That sounded great in theory, but in practice, I wasn't confrontational enough to even ask him politely about Morgan.

"What did the letter even say? You might just be overreacting," Brett said.

I read it out loud to him, word-for-word, and he hesitated.

"Twelve years? How old were we twelve years ago?" Brett asked.

"I don't know. I mean, I'm twenty-one now, so subtract—" I trailed off. Mental math was a lot harder for me than it had to be, especially with regrouping.

"Don't hurt yourself," Brett said.

"Hold on, I have a calculator right here," the only other female voice on the island (besides Morgan's bubbly, friendly handwriting) said. Jia staggered into the room, one hand over her lower abdomen and the other typing in numbers on her phone.

"Get back to bed. What are you doing up?" I asked.

"I heard floundering, so I came to figure out what was going on. Plus, I just figured we were interrupting everyone's conversations today, right Brett?"

"I was just trying to help," Brett said.

Jia rolled her eyes. "Of course you were." She looked down at her phone, then up at me. "It's nine."

I coughed. "Nine? They've been dating since, like, fourth grade?"

"They are being accused of dating since fourth grade. We don't know all of the facts yet, Reagan," Brett said.

"Who's been dating since fourth grade?" Jia asked.

"Logan and Morgan. Try to keep up," Brett said.

"Who the fuck is Morgan?" Jia cried, then let out a whimper. "Okay, no more shouting for me. That hurts too much."

"We don't actually know, but we're hypothesizing that she's Logan's girlfriend," I said.

"Great. Who the hell cares?" Jia said.

I thought for a moment. I thought I cared, but did I really? No. I was here for one reason, and one reason only: to identify as many whales as possible. And if I wasn't that important to Logan, at least I was important to the whales.

The only problem was that it stung. It was nice being accepted for once. Really nice.

I tried to keep the disappointment off my face, and I held out my hand to Jia. "You really shouldn't be here right now. You should be resting."

She looked pale and miserable, much more miserable than I was, and dealing with her urinary tract infection or kidney stone (or whatever it was) would probably make me feel a little better about myself. At least I would mean something to her.

Jia's voice suddenly got quiet. "You care, don't you?"

Caring was only human, and even though everyone seemed to think I was something else, I wasn't. There really was no point in lying about it, so I nodded.

"I noticed you guys had gotten close over the summer, but I never suspected you liked him," Jia said.

"And he supposedly liked me too, but that doesn't seem to be true. It sounds like a middle school problem, but I don't know, maybe it's because I never had this experience in middle school," I said. "Or any other time, for that matter."

"You know what you have to do?" Jia asked.

I shook my head.

"You have to deal with this problem like an adult. Brett, get the fucking vodka. We're gonna have a great time throwing all of his shit into the ocean," Jia said.

I blinked a couple of times. "We aren't going to do any of that. Maybe I should just talk to him. I don't want any innocent sea creatures to get hurt."

That seemed like the best way to handle this, even though Brett and Jia seemed to think otherwise. I really should have stopped listening to them and their crazy ideas a while ago.

Brett handled the bottle to Jia, and she took a swig straight from it. "Suit yourself."

"And you probably shouldn't be doing that if you don't feel well."

"Alcohol kills bacteria. I'm just treating myself effectively," Jia replied.

Of course, alcohol was a diuretic and would be filtered out long before it could kill anything, so it wouldn't help either problem of the burning sensation during urination or the infection, but I just kept my mouth shut. If Logan taught me one thing, it was that miserable people didn't like science.

***

There were times that my mind made itself up. It didn't even feel like a decision needed to be made when I chose the ocean over basketball and West Virginia. Logically, telling Logan I knew about Morgan (even though she could have been anyone) would fit into that category, but it didn't feel like it at all.

One, he would know that I accidentally looked at his personal stuff. Two, he would think that I didn't trust him and that I was a horrible person, and I didn't want to disappoint him in that way. Three, it involved making accusations that I wasn't comfortable making quite yet. Maybe shutting up about it and letting it play itself out was the better option in the given situation, even if it seemed like the worst possible idea on the surface.

I sat in the dining room, and as the afternoon turned to evening, the sun traveled across the horizon, and its rays shot a glare into my eyes from the computer screen. There was nothing to do but wait for Logan, and with every passing second, the more I dreaded his return. Even if I didn't exactly mention my findings to him, would I be able to be the same as normal?

The door opened, and when I heard loud complaining enter the house, I realized I didn't have to wait any longer.

"Rea, look at this shit," Logan said, and I hesitated before looking up. He had a small stain of actual bird shit on his face, and since it was right along the hairline, I could only imagine that it was mostly in his hair.

Darrell smiled. "Do you remember when you laughed when a bird pooped on me the first day here, Reagan? I think I'm beginning to realize just why you found that humorous."

I smiled as well and let myself laugh. "It is pretty funny."

Logan didn't say anything else, but if I had to guess what he was thinking, it was probably something not very nice.

That first day really was something. Logan hated me for being such a know-it-all, and I didn't exactly appreciate his negativity and coldness. A couple months later, nothing had really changed, had it? I still knew way more than he thought I did, and he was still incredibly cold. The only thing that changed was that we learned to like those traits, but if behaviors could be learned, they could be unlearned too.

"Have fun getting that out of your hair, because I know from experience that it's practically impossible to get it all by yourself," Darrell said, then he opened the door to the room that Carter usually did his research in. "Where's Carter?"

"He's outside collecting more water samples. He kind of forgot that we live on an island, which by definition is surrounded by water," I said.

Darrell let out a breath. "The tide's about to come in, and I don't want him to get washed away or get soaked since he has the awareness of a two-year-old, so I better go get him."

"Yeah, you better go before he gets his damn feet wet," Logan muttered.

I turned away to keep myself from laughing. Damn him and his heartless, amusing self.

"Anyway, I hate to do this to you, but you have to help me get all the bird shit off me before I tell you the name I decided on for the whale," Logan said.

"I what?" I said.

"You heard Darrell. He said it's impossible by yourself, so it's obviously easier with a friend, and you, Rea, have the unfortunate privilege of being my friend."

"Your friend?"

"You can be my special friend if you help me with this," Logan said.

I let out an annoyed laugh. "Oh, no. This is not a special friend kind of duty. I'm going to need a much better title before I—"

Logan interrupted. "Mega special friend. Take it or leave it."

I took in a breath. That had to be higher than regular, boring girlfriend, right? "I'll take it."

With no running water, we were in for a fun challenge, but it could be done easily. We headed into the bathroom, and I made sure to leave the door slightly open. We had a shelf with every sort of hygiene product we absolutely needed (besides a sufficient number of tampons), and I grabbed a few antiseptic wipes to hopefully kill whatever germs lived in that bird excrement.

"Here," I said and handed him one of the wipes.

He wiped along his hairline, and when he looked at what he collected, his face twisted. "Why is it so sticky? That bird has to have some serious gastrointestinal issues."

I grimaced. "Please don't describe it. I really don't want to know about it."

He let out a sigh and continued wiping down his face, and little by little, the shit came off his skin. I wasn't sure how he planned on getting it out of his hair, and I hoped that my mega special friend status wouldn't bite me in the butt. I was willing to put up with a lot to avoid talking about the letter I saw, but the line I didn't dare to cross had to be somewhere around the point of having to be the one to do it.

If it was sticky like he claimed it to be, maybe just cutting the hair off would have made more sense.

I took in a breath. It also made sense to ask him about the letter while we were alone and he was already upset about something else.

My heartbeat rose into my throat. I had to ask him at some point. I had to know if there was someone else.

"Logan, who's—" I began, but he began to speak just as I did. I hesitated.

"Who's who?" he asked.

"I was just trying to make conversation. It's stupid anyway. What were you going to say?" I asked.

Chicken.

"Well, I know that we're not the most conventional romantic pairing there is, but I figured out what's right up our alley. I got you something," he continued.

My heartbeat ascended even further into my ears. I was trying to be mad at him, and he finally decided that he wanted to be nice for once in his life?

"What is it?" I asked.

"Well, first, I got you a name for your whale, and second, I found something that I think you should have," Logan said.

"Is it another dead seal?"

He smiled. "No. I don't think I could handle seeing another one of those, honestly. And if you don't get the shit out of my hair, you'll never find out what it actually is."

He leaned in closer to me, but I moved my head back to maintain our distance.

"I have to get it out of your hair?" I said.

"You don't have to. I won't get mad if you can't get it all," Logan said.

I blinked a couple times at him. "I'm getting the scissors."

And while you have those in your hand, ask him.

That sounded a lot like a Jia plan, but it was the best I had.

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How are you all doing today? What's happening in your lives? Thank you so much for reading. Part Two of this chapter will be coming soon!

What do you think will happen next?

So I know I already asked you guys about your thoughts on the title of my next book, which I'm pretty excited about. I have another question that I'd like to ask. I'm struggling with coming up with a good name for a male character, since I've pretty much used all the ones that I like. Do you have any suggestions?