- Carry Your Throne; Jon Bellion - 
- Are You Bored Yet?; Wallows ft. Clairo - 
- Dollhouse; Melanie Martinez - 

Aurora Holland

"I don't know where we're going, but I'd like to be by your side," I sang to myself, the music blaring through my earbuds loudly. I know I probably sounded like a dying cow as I couldn't even hear myself, but I didn't care.

I was the only one home. My mother and father were at work, and I guess Jason was at a friend's house.

Pretty sad my twelve-year-old brother made friends on his first day of school, yet I don't have anyone I could consider my friend. Not to mention my only 'friend' was angry at me for telling her she was overthinking her little schoolgirl crush, so I really was all alone.

"If you could tell me how you're feelin', maybe we'd get through this undefeated," I continued, watching as the paintbrush bristles moved along perfectly across the paper.

My head bobbed up and down as I went along with the beat of the music, too caught up in my painting to give thought to anything else.

I was glad to finally be at home, considering today has felt like a hundred years long. The mall couldn't have gone by any slower, and now that I'm sitting alone in my bedroom I felt like I was at peace.

My eyes never left the paper, focused on the pretty colors of the sunset I was painting. It wasn't my best work, but it definitely wasn't my worst. I think the colors meshed well together, it was just the way I'd laid out the painting itself.

I pressed the wooden top to my lips, looking at the painting with my brows pushed together. I was torn between choosing a purple or a blue. My teeth gripped the end lightly as I brought the end in my mouth, contemplating. I ignored the change of song in my ears, my eyes bouncing between the two colors on my color palette.

The sudden feeling of someone touching my shoulder caused me to jump up. My earbuds got yanked out of my ears as my phone fell to the floor, my body flying out of the chair and away from whoever it was that touched me.

"Whoa, calm down." I stared at Logan in shock, my eyes jumping around in confusion. He had a small smile on his face, one of guilt from scaring me the way he had.

"What are you doing here?"

"You forgot this in my car earlier, but because I had to rush home to dinner I couldn't come right back." He held one of my shopping bags from the mall in his hand, the one that didn't touch my shoulder. "Your little brother had just gotten home I guess and just told me to come straight up. I didn't mean to scare you."

"It-it's okay," I told him, rubbing my chest where my heart was pounding in my chest.

"I tried to knock first, and even called your name a few times but you didn't hear me. Now I know why," He said as he pointed down at my abandoned phone on the floor.

"Yeah, sorry," I mumbled, crouching to grab my phone.

Logan beat me to it, however, swiftly grabbing the device in one motion. I stood up straight again as he held it out to me, along with my long-abandoned paintbrush and the shopping bag I'd left in his car.

I hadn't even noticed that I left it in his car, but it was probably because I had two shopping bags and my backpack to carry. It must've slipped from my grip as I got out and he didn't see it till he got back to his house.

Grabbing the bag and phone from his hand, I walked over and sat them on my bed. I rubbed the back of my neck, still caught off guard by the sudden interaction.

"Whoa," Logan said, causing my head to snap in his direction. He was staring at the painting I'd been working on only moments before, completely forgotten about since he showed up. "This is really good." He quickly added as he sat the paintbrush on my desk next to the piece, "I knew you were good because of what Paige said, but I didn't know you were this good."

"I'm okay," I shrugged, twirling my ring around my finger quickly.

"No, Rora, this--" He stopped, glancing at me with a quick motion to the painting. "This is amazing. Have you thought about looking into the art clubs at the school?"

"No, I couldn't do that. I can barely handle presenting in general, doing anything with art conventions or anything scares the daylights out of me." I told him quickly, denying the thought.

"I think you should think about it, you'd probably win first prize each time." He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket. It was a gray hoodie, one with the letters RHS on the front. It was a lot like the shirt I used of Carter's the night of the party. "Also, you have a good singing voice. You ever think of choir?"

"Now you're just saying stuff to say stuff," I said as I felt my cheeks heat up. I know for a fact I wasn't a good singer, so hearing him say that makes me feel like he was just trying to make me feel good about myself.

Logan rolled his eyes at my response, watching me as I sat on the side of my bed. I pulled my right leg up so my knee touched my chin, my left leg dangling off of the side of the bed.

"What about Theatre?" He then asked, continuing the conversation.

"What about it?" I asked quietly, watching him as he made his way around my room.

I've never had a boy in my room like this. I've never had someone besides Paige in my room, and even then she'd only been in this new bedroom of mine a handful of times. Even then, it was just Paige. I didn't care how it looked, whether it was messy or what she thought of it simply because it was my safe space and the one thing I felt like I could be myself without her judging me.

It's also the one thing nobody tried to change about me.

My room wasn't messy, the extent of what could be described as messy being my art table where the unfinished painting sat. Despite that, I still felt insecure as Logan took small glances around the room. He took in the vanity, which was a little further down from my art desk. Makeup had been organized perfectly along the top and in the little drawers, minus the vanilla-scented lip gloss I wear almost every day.

His eyes then bounced around, taking in the open bathroom, the open space closet, and the window on the other end of my room. He also took notice of the second desk in my room, that one being specifically for homework.

My mother hates the idea that I could get paint or charcoal all over my homework, and so when I brought this old dirty desk from my old home, she instructed my dad to get me one to keep homework separate from artwork.

He didn't walk around as he looked, making me glad he wasn't breaking my privacy too much. He just looked at what he could see from where he was standing, what was out in the open. I don't know how I'd feel if he began to rummage through my belongings as if we had been friends for years. I think I'd have a heart attack.

"I don't know why, but I wasn't imagining your room to look like this," He murmured, almost as if he was too afraid to say it.

"Why?" I asked just as quietly. I took a glance down at my left hand, seeing redness form under the silver band on my index finger. It was raw, and it hurt even more because of the fact it was beginning to heal after messing with it all day.

"I don't know, there's a lot of blue in here." He shrugged, still standing in the spot he'd been in for a while now. "I assumed it would be like pink or something."

"Why?" I asked again, not knowing how else to respond to him.

"Paige made it sound like you're a lot like her," He answered smoothly. His voice was deep, and although the words he said hurt, the tone in his voice made it hurt just a little less.

But not enough.

"She does that," I couldn't help but say. All of the feelings I'd spent so hard to shove away began to come back, a pressure building in my chest. I'd gotten so lost in the painting I'd been working on to the point where I didn't even think of Paige and hurt the way I had been before, but now that Logan was standing in the middle of my room telling me he expected to be just like Paige, it hurt.

Not that it should matter, simply because it doesn't. Paige has always answered for me and explained what I was like to people to try and get people to like me, but it always ends up being a disappointment when they find out she was lying. I'm nothing like her, and I never will be.

And that's just the sad, cold truth.

"I don't mean that as in it's a bad thing," Logan quickly said, probably noticing my sad expression.

Despite managing to always shove my feelings down, it's very obvious when I'm upset. That's what makes it so easy for people to continue making jabs at me, and why it hurts ten times more when people like Paige continue to say things knowing I'm already bothered.

I'm basically an open book when it comes to my disappointment and hurt feelings. I walk around like everything's fine but in reality, one look at me and you can tell I'm dying on the inside. I wish I could just push the feelings away so much to the point where you couldn't tell I'm upset, but that's just a hopeless thought. It'll never happen, I'm way too sensitive to not let it show on my features.

He stepped closer to me, hesitantly taking a seat in front of me on my bed. I just stared down at my lap once he sat, not knowing what to say.

I don't even know him.

"It's not a bad thing at all," He said again. "I just-- you surprised me was all."

"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing how to respond. Because of my lack of experience when talking to people, I never know how to talk to them. Especially when it comes to situations like these, where it's more serious and deep instead of just a simple conversation.

If you were to tell me a month ago that one of the most popular guys in school was going to be sitting in front of me on my bed, I'd laugh and shake my head. It wouldn't even make sense to me, and it still doesn't despite the fact that he's sitting right in front of me.

"You don't need to be sorry," He said with another shake of his head. "I just think you're cool, is what I'm trying to say I guess. It's nice that you're not another version of Paige. I mean, she's cool and I love her but I think everyone agrees we can only handle one of her."

I nodded, at a loss of words. I've been at a loss for words this entire time honestly, but now that I've said the few things I know what to say, I can't think of anymore. I just felt awkward and suddenly felt like I wanted to be anywhere but in my room.

Which is a feeling I've never felt before.

It grew silent between us, and I just assumed he was thinking of a way to leave and never talk to me again. There was a tension in the room I couldn't describe, simply because I'd never felt it before. I didn't know what to say to make the situation better, and I regretted ever saying anything at all. I shouldn't have left this bag in his car, and he wouldn't be here right now.

Like always, this was all my fault.

"You have a Nintendo Switch?" He asked after a few more moments of silence, changing the subject. I looked up in confusion to see his eyes weren't on me anymore, and he was looking at the TV stand where the Nintendo Switch games were organized perfectly on one of the shelves.

"Uh, yeah," I answered, feeling I needed to say something since I hadn't in a while.

I'm a horrible host, I know. But then again it's not like I was intending on having any company today.

"What games do you play?" He asked as he stood up. He walked over and sat in front of the TV stand, beginning to look through the red cases. I watched as he did so, feeling stunned he was still sitting here in my room.

Why hasn't he left yet?

"Just Dance, that's a fun game." He continued, seeming to be lost in the games. Surely, there was no way he wasn't that interested in my Nintendo Switch. I've seen this guy's house, he has basically anything he could want and more. A Nintendo Switch wouldn't impress him.

I stared at him in both shock and confusion, staying at my spot on the bed. He continued to move through the games, eventually ditching them and moving on to the first of many shelves full of movies. "Movie lover I see," He commented as he looked through the movies.

My cheeks burned as most of the movies I owned were romance movies, considering it's what I watch most. Since I'm at home most of the time when I'm not with Paige (as it was like this in South Dakota), I have a lot of extra time on my hands. I'm usually always caught up on homework to the point where I have nothing else to work on, which gives me lots of time to do any hobbies I want.

That means art, movies, games, and music.

I twiddled with the ring on my left index finger, blinking a few times as the tears that had begun to prick at my eyes went away. None even fell, they just disappeared as if I weren't going to cry in the first place. I watched Logan in awe as his tall frame bent over, his fingertips grazing each and every movie.

"Wanna watch one?" He asked, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I blinked a few times, my brows pushing together as I looked at him in more confusion than I had. Surely, my face was going to get stuck like this considering most of this entire interaction I'd been staring at him with a confused look on my face.

"W-what?" I couldn't help but ask, my chin leaving my knee. There was surely a slight imprint from the pattern of my jeans on the tip of my chin, but I ignored the numb feeling as I focused on the boy sitting in the middle of my room.

Logan sat back, moving his head back and forth a few times to crack his neck. He then turned to me, one hand laid back flat on the soft carpet while the other stayed between his thighs. "Wanna watch a movie?" He asked, "You have a lot to choose from, not to mention the choices on like every streaming service. Clearly you like movies or you wouldn't collect them so much, yeah?"

"Shouldn't you have like plans or something?" I couldn't help but ask, picking at the blue nail polish covering my nails.

"Why would I?" He asked.

"I don't know. You know, you're not the only one who heard things from Paige." I admitted, "I heard a lot as well."

"Oh, yeah?" He asked with a soft smile, raising an eyebrow. "Good things?"

I shrugged, "I mean nothing horrible. Otherwise, you wouldn't be sitting here right now."

"Well that can only mean good things," He said with relief, his cheeks turning a slight pink color. "Did she say things only about me... or...?" He then trailed off, probably wanting to know what Paige says about him.

Maybe he's secretly interested in her and wants to know what she said so he knows whether she likes him or not...

But then that makes me feel guilty and a little sad, considering she's into his brother.

"About you, Carter, the others you guys are friends with," I told him. My nail polish looked much more interesting than usual, and I couldn't help but stare at the healing scratches on my right hand.

"I know I should probably be surprised, but I'm not." Logan used the hand that had previously been between his thighs to rub the back of his neck.

"I just figured if you're one of those guys that everyone's friends with or wants to be friends with, you don't have time to hang out with someone like me," I told him, steering the conversation back to what I said about him having plans.

I didn't say it to get any type of compliment, because I'm used to not getting compliments. And after what I experienced with that Kaya girl in class today, then clearly I'm not going to have any different experiences at Riverway. I just wanted to be honest, as he was the one wanting to know after all.

Usually, nobody cares to hang out with me or talk to me unless it involves Paige, so to say I'm shocked he's still sitting in my room despite having already dropped my shopping bag off would be an understatement.

Of course, I'd never say any of these thoughts out loud, knowing what it's like to be called an attention whore despite never really saying what I really thought. Imagine if people had that type of leverage on me knowing how I truly feel. Just that thought alone is very overwhelming, only proving further that I need to be careful about what I tell people.

"Someone like you?" Logan asked, his brows pushing together. The smile on his face slowly faded, and I just watched in silence as he pulled himself off of the floor. He was extremely tall, even taller than usual to me since I was sitting on my bed. "What, you think you're like a loser or something?"

He hit it right on the spot, getting my thoughts perfectly. Of course, he wasn't serious about it until I didn't respond, and I watched as he made his way over to where I was sitting. He sat on the bed like he had before, mirroring my body so he was facing me completely.

No boy has ever sat on my bed before today, and this was the second time he's sat on my bed.

"Aurora you're not a loser," He said.

"You don't know that yet," I said.

"What?" He asked, seemingly shocked that I responded in the way I had.

"You don't know that. You don't know me, we just met a couple of days ago." I said, "I could be the lamest person you'd ever meet, and you don't know that yet simply because you don't know me."

"So why don't you let me get to know you, then?" He asked. "I mean, worst comes to worst, I waste my time. I mean, after all, it is my decision on whether or not I think you're a loser."

I didn't say anything, as usual. I was shocked by his words, not having ever heard anything like this before. He looked completely serious, and I didn't know how to say what I was thinking without sounding like a complete idiot.

Just as I opened my mouth to respond, I heard heavy steps coming up the stairs leading to my bedroom. "Aurora, are you home?!" The sound of my mother's voice was heard.

My eyes went wide, knowing my mother was going to kill me if she saw Logan in my bedroom. I bounced up from the bed in a flash, grabbing the boy by his wrist. He obliged without arguing, and I pushed him into the dark bathroom.

"Stay quiet," I ordered, shutting the bathroom door just as I heard sharp knocks on the door.

I straightened myself out, feeling as if I looked like a mess. Just as I reached the bedroom door it flung open toward me, my mother standing on the other side.

"I've been calling you, why didn't you answer?" She asked with a stern voice, looking at my appearance.

She was dressed up per usual, her hair in a tight high bun. She had heels on her feet, and now that I think of it I don't think I've ever seen her in any other types of shoes that weren't girly and dress-up-like.

"I was listening to music," I told her quickly. I'm not a good liar, and I know if she pushes too hard she's going to find Logan waiting in my bathroom. And if that happens, I'll be in even more trouble than I would if she were to have just caught him in the room in general.

Man, I never thought in a million years I'd be hiding an attractive boy in my bathroom. Yet here I am.

"Okay," She said, seeming to believe it. "Do you know whose car is outside?" She then asked, causing my face to drop.

Logan's car was obviously going to be outside, considering he had to drive here.

"Oh!" I quickly exclaimed, my hands beginning to feel sweaty. I spun the ring on my index finger, hoping she didn't see the gesture of anxiety. "It's our friend Logan's. He left his car here when we went to the mall earlier in Paige's car, but he rode back with his brother Carter and just said he'd get the car later since he had to get home to dinner." The lie came out quickly and smoothly, despite the fact I was a horrible liar. I hope she didn't notice, but then again the only time my mother really notices me is when I'm not out being like Paige. "I hope that's okay," I added as she hadn't said anything, afraid of her reaction.

At the mention of my perfect cousin, a small smile covered her mature face. "Of course it's okay. Do you know when he'll be by to get it?"

I stayed silent, unsure of what to say without giving it away. "I don't know, sometime tonight. Or in the morning before school."

"Okay, well he was thoughtful enough to park in front of the house so we could still park in the driveway." She motioned a hand back, putting her hands together. Her eyes then drifted behind me, landing at my art desk where the unfinished painting sat.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, she swiftly walked past me. She headed straight for the painting, her eyes nowhere except for the paper. "Is this what you were doing?" She asked, faking some interest in my painting.

"Yeah, I'm finished with homework," I told her, knowing where she was going with this. She never let me work on art unless my schoolwork was done, so I just figured I'd tell her before she had the chance to ask.

"It's ugly," She flatly spoke, my heart hammering in my chest at the words. She's never this blunt unless it's just us, not wanting to show her hate towards me whenever my brother and father were around. "I don't know why you waste your time with this when there's no potential." She picked it up, ignoring the fact that the paint was still drying. She ran her finger across the watercolor, causing it to smear in ways it wasn't meant to.

"You're ruining it," I told her. My left hand made its way to my right, my blue polished fingertips gripping the reddened skin on the top of my hand. I scratched and scratched as I watched her ruin what I spent the last few hours working on, my eye twitching slightly from the pain tingling in my hand.

"If anything I'm showing you what you're wasting your time on." She shook her head. She began to trail her hands along the perimeter of the paper, and before I could react she ripped the paper directly in half.

Tears stung in my eyes at the action, knowing this was usual. I didn't know what to say, all the confidence I'd gained to talk to her this morning had long gone out of my system.

"Maybe next time you'll learn before talking back," She said. Of course, this had to do with the arguing this morning. I knew she'd never let it go, and I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner. Usually, I'm very on point with knowing what she was going to do or say, but maybe I've been too focused on lying to her about Logan's car that I'd completely forgotten about the argument at breakfast.

Oh god.

Logan.

"It was very embarrassing the way you talked to me, Aurora, I feel I raised you better than that." She sternly spoke, beginning to walk her way to the door. "I know for a fact Paige would never talk to Murphy in this manner, you should really take some tips from her."

"I'm never going to be Paige and you know that," I spoke softly, scratching harder than before.

"I know, that's what's so disappointing." She shrugged as if what she said wasn't heart-shattering, and I watched as she rubbed her thumb and index finger to rid of any paint she'd smeared. "Your father's working late, I'm taking Jason out to dinner and a movie so we'll be back late. There's food in the kitchen."

With those last few words, the door was shut. Tears silently fell down my cheeks despite how much I tried to stop them, and I wasted no time in following after her and locking the door so she couldn't come back in. My forehead rested against the wood, my grip on the doorknob so tight that my knuckles had turned a ghostly white color.

My eyes were screwed shut, my mind running wild with thoughts. Not only was it embarrassing the way she talked to me, she flat-out compared me to Paige when Logan was in the bathroom.

Of course, she didn't know he was in there. At this point, I should've just accepted whatever punishment would've come from him being in my room so that way he wouldn't have had to witness any of this.

The sudden sound of shuffling caused me to realize Logan was in the room, and my head shot up in anxiety. I turned to see him staring at the ripped-up painting, one piece in each hand. I could barely see his face from where I stood, only seeing the right side.

From what I could see, his brows were angled in confusion and shock, his mouth tilted downwards in a frown. He stared at the ruined drawing, the wet paint mushed to look like an ugly brown color and now in two pieces instead of one the way it was supposed to be.

"You don't have to say anything," I choked out, swallowing a few tears. "About anything."

As he heard me speak, Logan looked up from the painting and toward me. His face looked sad and shocked, just like I'd expected. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, but I was so embarrassed to have him witness this.

Paige never even witnessed this, and my brother and father only got a short glimpse. It was only whenever my mother and I were alone, which was one reason I was constantly locking myself in my room or staying with Paige.

When Paige was around, this didn't happen.

"Aurora," He softly said, seeming to realize he hadn't said anything.

Just the simple mention of my name caused another tear to fall, and I squeezed my eyes shut as I looked down at my shoeless feet. I was wearing plain black socks with little red roses, a random pair I'd grabbed when I got dressed this morning.

"Please, you don't have to tell me." I whimpered after taking a few breaths, my voice shaky and what could only be described as broken.

"This is why you don't hang up any photos, right?" He continued anyway. I didn't look up, knowing I'd be unable to hold myself together if I were looking at him. I could feel him looking at me and it was already enough to let a few tears slip.

Do you know how embarrassing it would be if I just broke down crying in front of Riverway's most loved boy?

"Rory," He said. It caught me off guard that he called me the nickname, considering the only two that have ever called me that besides him were Elijah and Carter. Even then, Elijah was only calling me that because he originally introduced me as Rory thanks to Carter.

At first, I didn't like the nickname. But the more people called me Rory, the more I realized I liked it much better than Rora.

My eyes stayed on my socks, acting as if they were much more interesting than the topic at hand. It wasn't long until I saw his sneaker-covered feet in my line of vision. He was standing directly in front of me, mirroring me the way he was before my mother decided to ruin the moment.

"I'm not judging you, you know that right?" He asked softly, and I just shook my head in response.

I wanted to cry, to scream, even. But I couldn't. Not only would it be weird since Logan was in my room, I was just too hurt and embarrassed. I'd done an okay job at holding all of my thoughts in, but now that my mother added even more problems and went as far as ruining something I spent so much time on, it's like I'm on sensory overload.

"Hey," He said again after I didn't respond. I stayed in my spot, my vision blurry from the tears gathering in my waterline.

It was only when I felt something warm and large cover my aching hands that I realized I'd been scratching at my hand still. Logan's hands covered mine, a spark of electricity running through my skin where he touched.

"You're hurting yourself," He softly spoke. "It's okay, Aurora, I'm not going to hurt you."

"You don't know me," I murmured with a shake of my head, unable to get anything else out.

"I don't, but that doesn't mean I don't want to." He spoke, surprising me with his words. I looked up at him through my blurry vision, my neck craning slightly due to the height difference between us. He looked sad, but then again he was really blurry so I couldn't get a good view of his face. "Just because I witnessed something I wasn't supposed to doesn't mean I still don't want to get to know you." He added after my silence.

My mind was even more jumbled, thanks to his kind words. He wasn't saying this because Paige was around, and he wasn't saying this because she told him to. She doesn't know how bad my mother truly is, simply because I never told her. I never told anyone, not even my father. He only knows the extent of what my mother shows him, which isn't anything compared to what I actually deal with. The only outlet I've used besides my art to get my feelings out was a journal, one I hid away from everyone so nobody can secretly read it.

"Why?" I asked, blinking a few times.

"I can't tell you that, I don't have an answer." He shook his head, "I just want to, is there something wrong with that?"

I wanted to say yes, because this is me he's talking to. But I was too shaken up to say anything, so I just pulled my hands from his as I remembered he was holding onto them. I rubbed my right hand in my left, beginning to feel the pain from my scratches. I've never done it to a point where I don't realize how hard I'm going, I'm usually doing it to make me feel something.

But seeing Logan in the middle of the room, knowing he'd witnessed what he did was beyond embarrassing, and I was way past the point of feeling anything.

Logan walked away, leaving me standing in front of the bedroom door by myself. I let out a shaky breath as I squeezed my eyes shut, expecting him to leave me all alone.

But he didn't. Instead, I felt something warm and wet on my right hand, and my eyes snapped open to see a small washcloth covering my hand. Logan held my hand delicately, wiping off the blood that had escaped my cut skin. I watched his face as he did it, surprised he was doing what he was. I didn't expect it, and I didn't know how to find the words to thank him.

"Do you have bandages?" He asked, not looking at me as I spoke.

"Downstairs," I said. "Somewhere in the bathroom down there."

"I'm going to be right back, okay? I'm not going to leave I'm just going to run down and get something to clean this, okay?" He rambled slightly. He grabbed my left hand, using it to put pressure on the washcloth on top of my other hand.

I stayed silent, too overwhelmed to say anything. He gently pulled me away from the bedroom door, causing me to stand in front of my bed. I watched through blurry eyes as he left my bedroom, not bothering to shut the door after he left.

It was quiet in the room, and I took the chance to let out a choked sob I'd been holding since my mother left. My eyes were screwed shut as I took advantage of the short time alone. I didn't know when Logan was going to be back if he planned on coming back at all. For all I know he's probably getting into his car right now as we speak.

He could've easily just said the things he did to get out of here, so I could be alone and he could leave and never talk to me again. I mean, if I were him I would.

Why stay at the weird new girl's house because of some mommy issues?

My cries continued, my eyes staying shut as I wished I were anywhere but here. It was harder for my mother to be this way at the old house because there was always someone around when she was home, but from what I gathered they're both going to be working more which means more chances for her to be like this.

I don't understand why my mother feels the way she does about me. I've always done everything they've ever wanted, trying my best to be the perfect daughter.

But because I'm not Paige, that's enough reason for her.

I hadn't even realized I wasn't alone anymore until I felt strong arms wrap around my torso. I was pulled into a strong chest, a familiar scent filling my nose as I breathed. It was Logan, who had never left at all.

He pressed his cheek to the top of my head, his arms tightly holding me in a hug. I didn't hug him back at first, considering this was all new territory to me. I wasn't used to hugging anyone when I cried about things, especially considering I cry mostly when I'm alone.

Eventually, I loosened up a bit. My arms slowly wrapped around his stomach and met around his back, squeezing as if my life depended on it.

"I didn't leave," He softly spoke, as if that's what I had been crying about.

I did think he was leaving and not coming back, but that wasn't really the reason I was crying. I was crying for too many reasons to list, starting from the conversation at breakfast to the fight with Paige. Everything was overwhelming, and I think I began crying even more because Logan was here to witness it.

I cried for much longer than I wanted to, but once my cries were calm Logan finally pulled away. My arms loosened and dropped to my sides as soon as I felt him pulling away, and I avoided eye contact.

He grabbed my right hand, examining it to see it wasn't bleeding any more. It wasn't bleeding much to begin with, but the bleeding stopped to a halt as I'd been holding the washcloth on it for a while. He grabbed some bandages he found in the downstairs bathroom, gently wrapping one around my hand.

"This will prevent it from getting infected and prevent you from being able to scratch it more." He explained softly.

As soon as my hand was wrapped, I pulled away from him completely. I sat at the edge of my bed, staring down at the floor. I felt numb at this point, having gotten all my feelings out in my crying session.

Now that I'd cried it all out, I was feeling the embarrassment more than anything. Logan wasn't meant to see it, and too many thoughts were running through my mind at the possibilities of how this was going to change my life at Riverway.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked his tone still soft. He sat down next to me on the bed, leaving enough space between us so I wasn't overwhelmed.

"This is embarrassing, I'm sorry you had to witness it," I spoke, finally able to form sentences now that I was no longer crying.

"I won't tell anyone," He said, seeming to confirm my thoughts on whether he was going to say something to someone. "Does Paige know?"

"No," I answered quickly, my head snapping over to his. "Nobody does. Not even my dad."

"Your dad doesn't know about this?" He asked.

"No, and he doesn't need to. Which is why I need you to swear on your life that you'll forget about today." I quickly said. I know he already said he wasn't going to tell anyone, but I needed to be sure. I know his words don't technically mean anything, but they'll give me just the bit of assurance I need to forget about it.

"You know that's not okay, right? The way she treats you." He said, ignoring my question. "But you have my word, I won't tell anyone."

"Especially Paige," I tell him, my brows pushed together.

"Especially Paige," He repeated with a nod.

I nodded in return, feeling much better. Even if he wasn't being honest, even if he ran and told Paige right now, it's something I can worry about later on instead of right now. It was even assurance to help me clear my thoughts partially, my heartbeat calming down a little bit.

"Are you hungry?" Logan asked, causing me to look at him again.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why don't you come to my house for a bit? We had tacos tonight and I don't mean to toot my own horn but I make really good tacos." Logan told me, a small smile covering his face.

"What?" I asked, confused about how the conversation had turned so suddenly.

"I know you haven't had dinner, and I know that you're probably not wanting ramen right now. I already had dinner, but we have plenty of leftovers. We can go to my house and you can get away from here for a bit and forget about the fact that any of this happened. You wanna forget about it, right?" He asked.

I nodded, not responding.

"Okay, then let's go to my house. We'll have tacos and watch that movie I mentioned earlier. Just because you want to forget about what happened doesn't mean we have to forget about today. We can make good memories to cover the bad." He offered with a shrug, running his hand through his dark hair.

I contemplated it for a moment, before realizing it was probably going to be a really long time until anyone would be back. Feeling like I owed Logan considering he stayed when he didn't need to, I finally looked over at him with a smile on my face.

"Okay, fine."

++

This chapter was over 6000 words. Do you prefer super long chapters or medium length? I kept wanting to chop this into two, but I realized I don't want to keep prolonging chapters that could just be super long so we might get more of these!

Thoughts on Logan?

* This chapter is not edited *