I can't believe I told Dad I didn't care if he was dead.

While a small part of me was relieved I'd gotten some words off the heavy weight in my chest, the emotional respite was short lived once I'd unleashed words I hadn't meant. Embarrassed and guilty were understatements of how I'd felt as soon as the words had flown out of my mouth and only increased exponentially since then.

The more time that elapsed between our argument, the more self-preservation kicked in and I turned my attention towards my four upcoming midterms exams. I'd never been more thankful being submerged in my classwork than after my parents left. After I briefly glanced at my phone when Mom notified me they made it home, I ignored the pile of apologies intermixed with a text from Jake that tried to set up a weekly call time and responded only to Jake that I was flexible around his schedule.

Still can't figure out what decent human has taken over my brother's body but that's actually nice.

Words couldn't have expressed how thankful I was at Logan's presence this weekend, both in his unwavered support, judgmental-free listening ears, and much welcomed distractions. I also wouldn't have met Phyllis, Rosa, Richard, Mabel, Ethel, Geraldine, and Agnes. They'd all welcomed me into the aquafloat class like surrogate grandparents, even if they all assumed that I rehabilitated some kind of injury.

After my aqua float class, I felt relaxed and rejuvenated, unlike the exhausted version of Logan that came home with me that night. At 9:30pm, he inhaled a full dinner's worth of food, brushed his teeth, then crashed in bed before I'd even packed up my bag for Monday's exams. Soft snores escaped through his mouth as I tucked the blankets around him and kissed his forehead goodnight.

Logan's slight diversion of aerobics Sunday night led me straight into midterms week, near the end of my day where I happily slipped my earbuds in both ears, hit repeat on my four Stanton Lanier memorization songs, buried my nose in my books, notes, homework copies, everything related to my four classes. My Nutrition and Statistics midterms were both on Monday, Anatomy Tuesday, and Sports Nutrition on Wednesday.

At this point, my hard work all semester had paid off. My nerves were magnified and I felt slightly on edge but nothing like the campus zombies that pulled all-nighters, walked around in their pajamas, with large coffees in one hand and a messy folder of notes in the other.

Logan was on the same wavelength and our plan was that we just took our exams day by day. He had rescheduled two of his Biology exams because they overlapped with his practice times and studied for Biotransport when I remembered I'd forgotten to make his granola bars for his week. So, in a rush, I woke up at the buttcrack of dawn the next morning and made them.

"Oh shit," I mumbled, slipped my Stat Methods binder of notes off my lap, and carried it into the kitchen. While I thought I could've made the granola bars in my sleep, apparently reading my Stat notes was a bad idea because, thirty minutes later, they hadn't come out as expected.

Logan joined me in the kitchen when he heard my curse words and warmly wrapped one of his palms over my shoulder.

"I'm really sorry." I looked down at my hands, which held a tray of crumbled granola pieces that ranged from half a normal bar's size to, well, birdseed.

"It's fine, baby," Logan assured me but the negativity that swirled inside me said otherwise.

It's not fine!

I wasn't sure if almost the whole previous day's worth of studying, upcoming stress from the tests, or unchecked residual feelings from my parents' visit prompted my near-frantic response, but a small rush of panic welled up inside me. "No, it's not! You don't get it, it's like..."

Tears unexpectedly sprung into my eyes and my lower lip rolled under. Logan's eyes stretched wider the more words failed me, then he grabbed a kitchen towel, took the tray from my hands, and set it on the counter. As soon my eyes tracked his movements, I wrung one hand's fingers in the other hand.

"No, it's okay. Look." Logan pulled out a large bowl from an overhead cabinet and poured the crumbs into it. In a move like he thought I needed convincing, he grabbed a spoon out of the silverware drawer, scooped up a big lumpy pile, and spoke between chews, "I'll eat like cereal, it's good this way too."

Before I realized my feet had moved, I hugged my arms around Logan's waist. He stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into me and wrapped his arms around me. Humility flushed my cheeks warm as I breathed in his comforting scent and admitted, "It's just, you're so good with words and... you know, orgasms and stuff. This is like my way of showing I care."

"I know." My cheek bounced lightly with his cocky, chuckled response. "And I love you for that, makes me feel taken care of. I won't always say or do the right thing but we'll make it work."

I turned my face until my nose rested flush between his chest muscles, then groaned. "How about you apologize to my dad?"

"You can call him," he reminded me and rested his chin on the top of my head.

"Right..." I leaned my head back and took a slow breath of his calming scent, the faded fresh scent of his soap. "Because he listens so well."

"He might surprise you," Logan made far too many valid points here, so I frowned up at him. My look earned me a slight smile, then he added, "Why don't you write down what you want to say? Maybe it'll stop distracting you from studying."

My mouth opened in protest because I hadn't complained about the intrusive reminders that snuck in between my statistics formulas and sports nutrition definitions all day yesterday. While we'd eaten leftovers at the dinner table with our books, honestly I was relieved we'd taken the aerobics break when we had.

"Fine," I grumbled, pressed a soft kiss into the side of Logan's neck, and released him.

"Careful," he warned me as his eyes darkened slightly the longer he looked at me. "Or you'll be my next distraction."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." I stepped closer and trailed my lips upwards along the side of his neck until they stopped right under his jawline. A faint hum of warmth in my care area suggested we needed another break. The low groan that vibrated against my lips as well as the hand that now gripped my waist showed me Logan was in the same mindset.

"Academically, it probably is. Besides, write first." Logan's hand steered me around but, before I protested, smacked me gently on the ass. "And this is mine after exams are done."

At the contact, a soft squeak escaped my lips, which I pouted at him over my shoulder but sat down at the dining room table. After I pulled a piece of paper from my backpack, the blank white sheet and horizontal blue lines stared up at me while I absently pressed a pen into my cheek.

Just what I think, right?

This is... really hard. But I can do it, get the distractions out of my head.

Like Logan's -

"Nothing yet, huh?" I jumped at the sound of his deep voice in my ear, then the warmth from his torso pressed into my shoulders and upper back. Two hands caged around my blank piece of paper and Logan pressed a soft kiss onto the top of my head. "Just write like you're explaining it to me."

"Fine," I grumbled as he kissed me again then backed off and sat with his Biotransport textbook on the sofa. The first words felt painful as I wrote them and my fingers trembled slightly a few times.

Dad,

This is really hard to do. Talking to you is hard so I hope this letter helps instead.

I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it. I was just upset

My hand stopped, I rolled my lower lip under, and stared at the words I'd just written. While the first words felt painful as I wrote them, the more I wrote, the more easily my thoughts flowed until my hand struggled to keep up.

I'm sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it. I was just upset because you treat me like I'm a kid and I'm not. You act like you don't trust me, practically put me under house arrest in high school, and lash out with ridiculous accusations and assumptions.

Logan is a good guy. I love him more than I can express in words. He understands and supports me in a way I didn't realize I needed until he came back into my life. Cutting him out was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I'm not asking you to love him too but give him a chance. Give ME a chance.

I'll always be your daughter and you won't agree with my decisions but it's my life. Please let me make them. Even if you get frustrated, I want to move forwards and be happy with who I love.

Again, I'm really sorry for what I said. I want you in my life, I want you to be proud of me like you are with Jake. And someday, I hope someday you'll walk me down the aisle.

Love, Ellie.

The last two words blurred under a fresh set of tears and my mouth tugged sideways into my right cheek. I took a few raspy breaths, then reached out, crumpled the piece of paper in between both hands, then tossed it aside onto the table.

He'll never accept that.

While I discarded my written thoughts to my Dad, Logan was right when he suggested that I write down my feelings removed the mental distraction. In addition to my Stat Methods studying, early Monday morning I completed my research project for the quarter, where we found a 'real-world dataset,' applied some analysis methods from class with identical results from R and python, then summarized the results in a report.

Like our Anatomy class paper and presentation on the endocrine system, my Stat Methods project probably wasn't the most riveting topic but it filled the requirements and, most importantly, it was done. I'd taken the meal plans from my Sports Nutrition class and predicted different peak performance measures like energy level needed based on the number of days before and after their sports event. My conclusions were blatantly obvious, which I wasn't sure that my Sports Nutrition professor would've been very impressed with. Statistically, I'd chosen a survival analysis model, which we hadn't discussed yet in class at this point, so I hoped Dr. Pearce was impressed.

Plus, lazily I'm doing the same paper for two classes, so win-win.

And if I never write another statistical software program, I'm good.