"You wouldn't," Logan muttered.

"I would. If it's as sticky as you claim it to be, that bird has some serious health issues, and it's best to just remove the source of bacteria as soon as possible," I said.

"No. No way in hell am I going to cut my hair."

"You don't have to cut it. You just have to let me cut it. I cut my own hair when I was six, so I clearly know what I'm doing."

He pressed his hand to the non-poopy side of his head. "Great, Miss Know-It-All is back. You're lucky I love you, because I wouldn't put up with this shit from anyone else."

I paused. He wouldn't put up with this shit from anyone else? Not even Morgan? A smile spread across my face. That seemed promising.

"You know, on second thought, those scissors would be great, so I can stab myself with them," Logan added.

But—wait.

"What'd you say?" I asked.

"I said that I'd like to stab myself," Logan said.

"Before that."

"I expressed my displeasure with your know-it-all attitude."

"Just after that."

"For fuck's sake, Rea, I can't remember. We can't all be super geniuses like you who can remember what Timmy said to them on the playground on January sixteenth in second grade. Oh, and by the way, Timmy said that you're annoying, but I'm sure you knew that," Logan said.

If he was too chicken to say it again, then that was perfectly fine with me. It made being upset with him a much more manageable task.

"I'm getting the scissors," I said.

"You can't cut my hair if you can't find me," he said as he brushed past me.

I watched him as he headed for the front door. "Seal watchtower."

"Fuck you," he shouted, but he didn't alter his course at all.

Even after he shut the door behind him, my eyes were fixated on the trail he left behind. There wasn't a visible one, no, but it was like I could still hear his voice in my head. I barely heard two sets of footsteps creak down the stairs, and although I didn't look to see who was there, I knew who they belonged to, both logically and by sound. We really had become a close group by spending half a summer together.

"I told you that this would happen. Now you have no idea what the truth is," Brett said.

"He said he loves me accidentally." The words escaped from my mouth, but when I said them, it felt different, like I finally realized what they meant. It seemed like a very un-Logan thing to say, but there were times his true thoughts snuck out of his mouth before he could cover them with sarcasm and hostility.

Jia let out a sigh. "Reagan, honey, maybe you should make some coffee and take a break from this. It's all happening really fast."

"I think adding caffeine to my system would probably overwork my heart and kill me at this point." I kept my eyes on the front door. "I'll need a whole pot when I get back."

"Don't do it. Don't go after him," Brett said.

But I followed my heart all the way out to Paradise City, and I couldn't just abandon it when it needed me the most. My brain needed answers, my pride (though nonexistent) wanted affirmation that Morgan was no one, and my heart? My heart longed for a person for once in my life, and he seemed to be the best shot I had.

In the kitchen, just like any other home, we had a drawer filled with stuff we needed but couldn't put anywhere else. I opened it up, searched through the contents for a moment, and I grabbed the scissors and dashed out the door.

It had just finished raining, so the rocks were slick with moisture, and the air smelled refreshed and new like it was my first breath. The waves collapsed onto the shore then receded like nothing ever happened, and in that moment, I felt closer to the ocean than I ever had before. Those waves were like me, gentle and constant, but they also left after their brief affair with the shore, just to fade back where they belonged, the ocean.

And at the end of the day, that was where I belonged too, not in someone's arms and not in someone's heart. I just figured Logan would be okay with that.

I climbed up the ladder to the seal watchtower where we had our spitting contests, silly conversations, and secret touches. If we couldn't have this conversation on board of the Millennium Osprey, where we kissed for the first time, the tower seemed like the next best place to recall the hopeful confusion of budding feelings. Hopefully, he'd remember it as I did, with a lot of smiles, laughter, and just a dash of trouble.

"Didn't think you'd find me here," he said, almost soft enough to be a whisper. With the screeching of the gulls, I barely caught those words, and I sat down beside him just like always.

I frowned. Yes, he did.

"I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're afraid of," I replied.

"If I was actually afraid, you wouldn't have ever found me. I just don't want my hair to be ruined. Unlike you, I don't radiate natural beauty."

If natural meant covered in dirt, seawater, and whale snot, then yes, I was the most naturally beautiful person in the world.

"You could just wear a hat," I said.

He looked out to the seal population of Paradise City, which was beginning to rebound from the killer whale attack. "You just know how to fix everything, don't you?"

I could fix everything but my doubts about our relationship and insecurity of having another girl in the picture.

"I'll make this as painless as possible. Here, face me," I said.

He turned to me, and I ran my fingers through the cleaner part of his hair. A warmth radiated from him that felt like the sun on a clear day, but I had never really had that sensation from him before.

I rested my hand on his shoulder. "It'll look fine. Just trust me."

"I hate you so much," he muttered.

"I know," I said, then took the scissors and cut a couple strands of hair. The poop was just as sticky as he claimed it to be, and I grimaced in empathy.

That poor bird.

"So, what name did you decide for my whale?" I asked.

"Don't make small talk, lady. Just cut my hair."

As much as I wanted to ask if he wanted to name it Morgan, I didn't. There had to be a more tactful way to approach the problem.

I snipped away at the soiled strands, and although there wasn't much of a physical distance between us, there was an emotional distance. The uncertainty of Morgan lingered in the air between us, and although the air had just been purified with a gentle rainstorm, her presence was muddying that faster than a racecar.

Any self-respecting woman would ask about her. Not accuse, not shy away, but ask.

I frowned again. Being a self-respecting woman was much more difficult than people made it out to be.

"Swim Shady," he finally said, drawing my attention from my thoughts.

"What?"

"If you don't like that name, I'll come up with something different, but I think Swim Shady is kind of funny and a great name for a whale," Logan replied.

I smiled. "I like it."

"Okay, good. I had another one in mind, but it was ten thousand times cheesier than that one."

A clump of his hair fell to the floor of the seal watchtower.

"Cleaning this up is going to suck," I mumbled. "What other name did you have in mind?"

"I'll save that one for the next whale you get to name."

I looked down at the ground. "What are the odds I'm going to find another unidentified whale anytime soon?"

"Much better than your average human's chance, I would assume."

Well, he wasn't wrong.

There wasn't much infected hair to begin with, and even though I had cut most of it off already, he didn't look too much different than before.

I leaned back to check my work.

Maybe he looked a little lopsided. But that was fine with me. I'd either love him anyway, or it'd be what he deserved for making me feel like an idiot with Morgan.

I had to find out which one it would be. I had to.

"Logan, can I talk to you?" I asked as I continued cutting.

"I don't think I have much of a choice here. You're practically sitting on me and you have scissors," he replied.

Right.

That was all part of my plan.

"I actually have a really funny story to tell you. So you know how I went to check on Jia? Well, she was beginning to drive me crazy, so I decided to take out the trash. And when I went into your room, there was this pile of papers—" I laughed. "It's just so funny."

"I don't get the joke, but I'll laugh anyway so you don't stab me with those." He pointed to the scissors in my hand, then let out a fake laugh.

"I wasn't done. And on the top of the stack, but I didn't mean to look, but there was this letter from a girl named Morgan, and it had a bit of a romantic undertone to it." I laughed again. "But it wasn't, right?"

"Why did you read that?" He dropped the fake laugh, and I dropped my uncomfortable one.

"Because her handwriting was so pretty and irresistible, so I can only imagine she looks the same—"

"We were trying to keep those from you, so you wouldn't get your little feelings all hurt, and then you just—"

"I got that whole story from Brett, but we're not talking about everyone else. I just want to know who she is. You've never mentioned her before," I interrupted.

"Didn't peg you to be the jealous type, Rea."

"Don't make me use the scissors. Was there a romantic undertone, or did I just completely make that up?"

He didn't say anything for a moment.

"So it's not all in my head?" I asked.

"I can't believe that you don't trust me the same way I trust you—"

"Don't start with that."

"Yes, it did have a romantic undertone. But is that feeling reciprocated? It doesn't sound like you give a shit about that," Logan said.

I guess I hadn't thought about it. I just assumed—

"It's a little insulting that you think just because someone's in love with me that I'm automatically still in love with her." He stood up and smacked his head against the ceiling. "Son of a bitch."

I didn't laugh. I didn't even want to.

"And if you didn't get the message into your stupid mind, it was you that I loved," he continued.

I shook my head. "Please don't use the past tense."

"And I don't even care that I still have bird shit in my hair. I really don't want to even be around you right now," he continued and headed down the ladder.

I actually got it all out of his hair, but I didn't think he'd care to know. Something told me he needed a moment to figure out that I really meant no harm or insult. He somehow turned the whole thing back on me, and while I was partially to blame, there was nothing wrong with communication.

The one time I didn't listen to Brett. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

An ache spread throughout my body. I never really got involved with people (with good reason, apparently), and I was right back at square one.

We'd both get over this. It would just take time and a little talking through.

Jia was miserable and sick, Brett gave the worst advice, Carter expressed zero interest in humans, Darrell couldn't know that there was something between Logan and me, and Toby was not particularly great at conflict resolution, since he couldn't stop Darrell from continuing his annoying list of citations just to keep the peace in the house. I was on my own for this problem until I could talk to Nastasya and Robbie.

But did I have to be?

I took my phone out of my back pocket. Maybe he wasn't proud of me quite yet, but I had to try, because otherwise, my work would suffer. If there was one thing I prided myself on, it was the work I did to help the whales. Surely he wouldn't have changed his number without letting me know, right? I was his only daughter, after all.

All I needed was someone to listen to me, because Logan certainly didn't.

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Hi everyone! So I have an organic chemistry exam coming up, but writing this seemed way funner than studying, since I'm going to fail anyway. So here we are! Yay!! Thank you so much for reading! Hopefully I'll have the next chapter by Friday, but I actually do have to study now, so we'll see how that goes.

There were a few events that occurred in this chapter, to say the least. What do you all think? Does Logan have a right to be upset with Rea? Should Reagan have brought up her concern the way she did? What does this mean for them? And what about the ending of the chapter? Do you think now is the correct time for Reagan to reconnect with her old life?