Logan
By the time we finished our breakfast, it was time to go. Delilah mumbled something about catching the bus to get to school, but you could tell her heart wasn’t in it. We both knew I would insist on driving us to school, and her mom would tell her riding the bus was ridiculous given I had a car and was also going to Draycott. We walked out of the house with Delilah’s mom telling me I was welcome at their place anytime.
Anytime, Logan, when you get tired of boarding school food.
I laughed when Delilah jerked open the door to the car. This was something I loved about her. I knew that hidden deep beneath the thick layers of shyness, Delilah had a temper that was always bubbling, constantly on the edge of erupting. It was a privilege to know this side of her, the side she’d kept hidden so well that nobody else knew about it. Nobody but me. Months down the road, when we’d be solidly, definitely, In a Relationship, we’d surely get into some passionate fights because of her temper, and I couldn’t wait for that to happen, to have Delilah be comfortable enough to show me everything, all the raw, red edges she’d hidden for so long. But for now, I couldn’t let that spark get the better of her. She wasn’t thinking straight, what with all that happened in the past couple of weeks. It was up to me to be the rational one. If I wasn’t careful, she’d end up burning both of us down.
Sure enough, the moment we were ensconced in the cocoon of the car, Delilah jabbed a finger into my chest and hissed, “Never, ever show up at my house again, you freak.”
I won’t lie, that hurt. I knew I shouldn’t let it. People say all sorts of terrible things in the heat of the moment that they later regret, and this was obviously one of those times, but still. You freak. Freak.
It was something Mom called me. When she found my Sophie box—the strands of hair, the old sock I’d managed to steal from Sophie’s gym bag.
It stung. I’d even brought bagels. Deep breaths. I wasn’t a freak. I just had a bit of difficulty controlling my impulses. But as long as I understood that about myself, I’d be fine. Perfectly fine.
When I finally managed to shake Mom’s voice out of my head, I forced a smile. “Dee, take a deep breath.”
“Don’t tell me to take a deep breath!” she cried. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do, Logan, but whatever it is, you are not welcome at my house, okay, you asshole?”
Christ, the girl was brutal. I tried again. Love is patient. “You’re stressed out—”
“Hell yes, I’m stressed out! You know why? Because I freaking murdered my mom’s boyfriend and now it turns out you’ve recorded it and I don’t know—I don’t understand what it is you want!”
“I want you to give us a chance,” I said in calm, measured tones. Love is kind.
She looked at me like I’d grown another head. “Yes, but I don’t get it. You know what I did. You know I’m a killer. Why would you want to go out with me? Logan, look at you. You’re a real catch. You can date anyone you want.”
I wanted to shake her. I hated having to sit here and listen to her say these things, because what was she really saying? “You can date anyone you want” means “Why me?” I hated how she’d been so broken by Detective Jackson that she’d think of herself in this way. How could she believe she wasn’t worthy of me? Of anyone? But over time, I’d make her see I wasn’t out of her league. We were perfect for each other, she’d see that soon enough. I looked her straight in the eye, unflinching, and said, “I want to date you.”
She stared at me like the head I’d just grown had started licking my other head. “But why?”
“When you meet the love of your life, you know. It’s useless trying to pin any sort of logic to it. You might as well try to solve a calculus problem by chewing gum. And Dee, you need to know this about you: You’re amazing. You’re perfect. You can date just about anyone you want.”
“Logan—” She stopped herself and took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was lower, but there was a tremor in it. “You don’t know me. You can’t possibly know that you love me.”
I wanted to shake her. Why did she keep questioning it? Questioning us? She wasn’t supposed to fight this hard.
Deep breaths.
“Look, I get that it’s going to take some time for you to accept that we’re meant to be with each other. And that’s okay. We have all the time in the world. I told you, I’m willing to go at your pace”—I held my finger up when she opened her mouth to speak—“as long as it’s moving forward.”
She sat there for a while, staring at me, breathing hard. My chest tightened with guilt. This wasn’t what I wanted. The last thing I needed was for Delilah to fear me the way she feared Detective Jackson. I had to make her see I was nothing like him.
“Just spend some time with me,” I said kindly, and my heart ached because Delilah wasn’t used to kind, wasn’t used to being handled with tenderness. “You’ll see it’s really not as bad as you think.”
She didn’t answer, merely turned her head so she was looking out the window. I started the car and turned on the stereo. Her favorite song came on. She glanced at me, her forehead clearing for a split second, and I smiled, hopeful. Then she scowled and punched the Power button on the stereo.
“You probably didn’t even know about Planet Green until you stalked me,” she snapped.
She turned her back on me once more. I had to laugh. That fire inside her. Unbelievable. I was so glad Detective Jackson hadn’t managed to stamp it out of her. She was still my Delilah. When we got to school, Delilah sat sullenly and watched as kids streamed into Wheeler Hall.
“You ready?” I asked.
“They’re gonna see me coming out of your car,” she said flatly.
I waited for her to continue. When it became obvious she wasn’t going to, I said, “And?”
“They’re going to think we’re together.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
Delilah glared at me. If looks could kill, I would be flayed and chopped into at least ten different chunks before being flung to wild animals, and honestly, I could kiss her for being such a firecracker. When she finally spoke, she said the words slowly, enunciating each syllable as though I were a complete airhead. “I do not want to be in the limelight at school. Surely you can understand that, given my circumstances.”
I took her hand, ignoring the curl of her lip when our skin touched. “Our relationship will be the perfect cover. Nobody is going to be thinking of Detective Jackson.” Then, just as an incentive, I added, “Not unless you want them to.” Damn, I felt like a total asshole, bringing that up, but I had to remind her of what a huge secret I was keeping on her behalf, what a big deal it was that I’d seen what she did and loved her in spite of it. Maybe I loved her because of it as well.
She paled, her jaw tightening. “Whatever. I’m going to be late for class.”
“I’ll see you at lunch,” I said, trying not to stare at her lips, trying not to freak her out even though they were begging to be kissed.
She paused. “We don’t sit at the same table for lunch.”
I grinned. “We do now.”
I parked the car, and we headed out into the sunshine together. I walked next to her casually, the way a friend would, and I didn’t stare at her with naked adoration the way I wanted to. I walked benignly, sexlessly, and I waved bye to Delilah when we got to the lockers. Didn’t even walk her to her class, look at that self-restraint.
Then I headed to my own class and shrugged and smiled and fielded questions until the bell rang, and how could I concentrate, when the thought of Delilah was so real, so fresh?
Someone hit the back of my head with a balled-up note.
R U and Delilah a thing?
I turned around to see Josh grinning and waggling his eyebrows at me. But then I noticed how strained his smile was, and how hard he was staring at me. Josh was one of the few people who knew what happened with Sophie, how into her I was. He’d called it “an obsession,” and he was the only student who knew about my suicide attempt after Sophie died. Everyone else thought I’d just gotten really sick and had to take some time off, but Josh knew. He was the one who found me in the glade, after I took all those pills.
And now here he was, good old Josh, worrying about me again. I gave him the world’s most casual shrug and turned back to face the board. After class, I launched into a discussion about the lesson, hoping that would distract him, and it did, for a while. But when I paused for breath, Josh said, “So, about Delilah…”
“Yeah?” I said casually.
“Um, are you guys a thing?”
I shrugged. “Sort of.”
“Cool, cool.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Only, um, I didn’t want to mention it before because it—I don’t know—seemed a bit weird or whatever, but she kind of really looks like Sophie.”
“Really? I haven’t noticed.” I put on an expression of blank curiosity.
Josh frowned. “Okay.” He didn’t look entirely convinced, but luckily he had to rush off to geography, so I was spared the rest of his concerned speech.
When the bell finally rang for lunch, I stood outside Delilah’s class waiting for her. I spotted her as soon as she came out, even with her head tucked down. Seeing her sent a burst of joy rushing through my chest. Not so for Delilah; her face soured when she saw me. I tried not to let it bother me. She’d come around. I fell easily into step next to her.
“How was class?” I asked.
She gave me a look.
“I am genuinely interested in how your day went.”
Delilah looked up at the ceiling then at me and said, “It’s been terrible. Okay? And you know why it’s been terrible? Because, as it turns out, I have a stalker who wants to ruin my life.” She was near tears, her eyes shining, her voice shrill.
This was the worst part, knowing I was doing this to her, causing distress to my girl. But it’ll pass, I reminded myself. I caught her hand and led her out of the building into the bright sunshine. “Take a deep breath,” I said kindly.
She did as I said before glaring at me. “I hope you enjoyed that. You’re even controlling my breathing now.”
I sighed. “You know it’s not like that. I just want you to give us a chance. Let’s go have lunch. You’ll like my friends.”
“I like mine just fine,” she said.
She was so stubborn, she couldn’t see that I was trying to save her. Sophie was like that too. Anyone could tell she didn’t have the right friends. Sure enough, as soon as she ran into trouble with her class, her so-called friends melted away. A couple of them stuck around long enough to watch Sophie spiral into depression and frantic desperation before posting all about it on Draycott Dirt.
“Give it a chance,” I said again. I didn’t wait for a reply before taking her hand, gently but firmly, and leading her toward the cafeteria.
Noise spilled out, almost deafening, and Delilah instinctively clutched at my hand. I gave her a reassuring squeeze and said, “Just keep walking. You’ll be okay.”
Even on normal days, the cafeteria was a lot to take in—the air boiling with students yelling, babbling, laughing over some text or picture or video on their phones, and the scent thick with the smells of hot food and last night’s dinner. Delilah was so pale, I started to worry she’d burst into tears or puke or something. But I knew her. She was strong. She’d make it. Halfway there, she stumbled and would have fallen if I hadn’t caught her. The voices around us became excited murmurs, an almost physical cloud that clung to us like a sickly mist.
“Breathe,” I whispered.
She took in a shaky breath and kept going. When we neared the center table, my friends looked up and the conversation lulled to a halt.
“Hey, guys,” I said.
Their eyes moved from my face to Delilah’s to our hands, still linked tightly together. Another flash of concern from Josh. Had I been wrong about him? Did he tell everyone about my thing for Sophie? My unfortunate incident?
Moni was the first to break the silence.
“Hey,” she said, smiling. She always was the sweetheart of the group. “I’m Moni.”
“I know,” Delilah said. “You’re in Mrs. Holston’s class too.”
“That’s right! You always have the best answers. C’mon, take a seat.” Moni slid over and patted the spot next to hers. I wanted to sag with relief. I gave her a silent nod of thanks as Delilah let go of my hand and went to sit next to her.
Moni’s invitation broke the ice. The other two girls in the group leaned across the table, and soon Delilah was swallowed up in their conversation. I took my seat next to Josh.
He leaned close and lowered his voice. “So it’s official, huh?”
We glanced at Delilah, caught up in conversation with the girls, and Josh said, carefully, “She seems…cool.”
“You have no idea.”