Logan
I paced my room like a caged animal. I was fuming. Boiling, really, thoughts bubbling and popping everywhere. How could Delilah say those things to me? Tell me it was her “fucking life,” like I didn’t know, like this wasn’t my fucking life that I was putting on hold just for her. Did she not realize how much I’d done for her? How much I’d lost? She didn’t get it, she didn’t understand just how dangerous the world was, how many predators there were, how many sickos just waiting around the corner for the right target before they pounced. She didn’t understand that I was put in this world to protect her, like those guards protecting the Mona Lisa.
How could I make her see that? How?
Pain exploded from my hand, and I realized that I’d just slammed my fist into the wall. “Shit!” I gripped my fist with my other hand and hopped around in pain. Jesus, it felt like I’d broken all of the bones in my hand. I practically bit through my lower lip as I fought the urge to shriek like a baby.
After what seemed like an eternity, the pain abated enough for me to draw in a few short breaths. I held up my trembling hand and surveyed it, prodding at it gingerly to make sure nothing was broken. The knuckles were split and bleeding, but aside from that, I was pretty sure the bones were still intact. I breathed hard. I’d lost control there. Not good, Logan. Gotta get a grip. I couldn’t afford to lose my shit, not like that. What if I’d done that in front of Delilah? It would scare her so badly, she’d never ever be able to trust me. And I couldn’t have that. I needed her to see that I was good for her.
But I couldn’t stay in my room and do nothing either. I had to—
Had to what? What else was left for me to do? Why did she keep fighting me? Fighting us? The anger simmered again, but before it could come up to another boil, I jumped up, grabbed my hoodie, and strode out of the room. It was dark outside, the air cool and pleasant. I broke into a run. It felt good to run like this, to feel the ground being pounded by my feet, miles being eaten up by my strides. My lungs were bursting, my calves burning in the best possible way, but best of all, my thoughts were finally, blessedly silent. No more whispers at the edge of my hearing, telling me I was doing everything wrong with Dee, that she would never love me back. In fact, I wasn’t even thinking about Dee at all, which was amazing. The past few weeks, life had been about Dee this and Dee that, and though I felt a bit guilty to admit it, it was refreshing to not be so hung up on her. Maybe I was getting a tiny bit obsessed, maybe I shouldn’t—
I slowed to a walk to catch my breath and stopped short, looking around me with wide eyes. Oh, shit.
I was around the corner from Dee’s house.
Come on, subconscious. Just when I was congratulating myself for taking a healthy distance from Dee. Dee, who didn’t appreciate how much I’d done for her. Dee, who would most definitely lose her shit if she found me here. How the hell did I get here, anyway? I tried to sift through the last few minutes. I’d been on such an endorphin high thanks to the sprint, I’d reached a meditative state where I wasn’t really aware of my surroundings. But my feet still carried me closer, to the back of the house, to a low fence that would be easy to climb over. But I should go.
I was very definitely about to make my way home when a light from inside the house caught my eye. I couldn’t help myself. I scaled the fence to investigate. I walked closer to the side of the house, making sure to keep away from any windows, and peeped inside. My heart was beating so fast. I’d never been in here, not like this. Someone moved into view, and I froze. It was her. My vitamin Dee. God, she was beautiful.
She was carrying a bowl of food with chopsticks and a spoon stuck in. Her mom followed behind with her own bowl. I loved everything about Dee and her mom. They didn’t bother with frills like setting the table. I watched as Dee tied her hair back so she could slurp her noodles without any strands getting in the way. I watched the way she made her mom laugh without even trying.
Then I inched away but not toward the gate. I went around the corner, and there I hit the jackpot: there was a wall trellis at the back of the house that went all the way up to the second floor. My blood roared in my ears. Surely this was an invitation. Fate was telling me I should take this chance. Climb up. Go inside. Which I shouldn’t do…
And yet, I found myself doing exactly that, praying that the wood trellis would be enough to hold my weight as I climbed up, and up. Before I knew it, I was at the top, reaching out to pull the nearest window, teeth gritted in anticipation of it creaking. It didn’t creak, which surely went to show how I was meant to climb in undetected. With a deep breath, I grabbed the windowsill and heaved myself up. I landed on a bathroom counter and clambered forward until my legs were through. My heart was beating so fast, I felt sick. What if one of them came in here and found me like this, half hanging from the window?
But neither one did, and, soon enough, I was inside Dee’s house. No, not just that. I was on the second floor, inside her bathroom. I’d never been upstairs, never been allowed, even though I clearly deserved to come up. Whenever I’d been over to her house, it was always with Dee shooting dirty looks at me and the knowledge that I had to behave a certain way so I wouldn’t scare her mom off. Always with that little voice in my head telling me to be careful, to act normal. It was like having to hold my breath. But now I was here—upstairs!—and neither of them knew about it. I was free to really observe without the fear that I was being observed. Above the thudding of my heart, I caught little snippets of her voice, her laugh. I scanned the bathroom counter, looking at the bottles of face cream and toner and other beauty products I didn’t recognize. Were they Dee’s, or her mom’s? I picked up a bottle of moisturizer and opened it. Immediately, my senses were flooded with the image of Dee. This was very definitely hers. The label read: Rose Garden. God, this was so her. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes.
Footsteps, coming up the stairs.
Everything inside me shattered. Shit, shit! I jumped as noiselessly as I could into the bathtub and hid behind the shower curtain just as the bathroom door swung open.
I didn’t dare breathe. Whoever it was came inside and turned on the tap. A second later came the sound of an electric toothbrush being used. I was dying to know if it was Dee or her mom, but I didn’t move a single muscle, just stood there with my back against the tiled wall. At least the whir of the toothbrush meant I could draw in little sips of air without the person on the other side hearing.
Please, please be done with the brushing soon. Please. But no. After she brushed her teeth, she started washing her face, lathering for what felt like hours before rinsing. Bottles were picked up, sloshed around, and put down. Cabinets were opened, various products slathered on. This was getting ridiculous. How long could someone’s nightly beauty routine possibly take?
Then a terrifying thought struck me: What if the routine included a bath?
What would I do?
The sink turned off. My thoughts cut short in my head, and I waited for the curtain to be yanked aside, for the shriek to come. But instead, the person left the bathroom. I sagged against the wall, my muscles turning into water. God, that had been way too close. I had to get out of here right now. But not without a souvenir. I slipped the bottle of moisturizer into my back pocket and climbed back out the window and down the trellis. Outside, I crept past the house and unlocked the gate. I made sure to wiggle the lock shut behind me; I didn’t want some creep to get into Delilah’s house. Then I walked briskly away, checking once or twice to make sure no one had followed me.
My heart was singing. I’d just gone up to the second floor of Dee’s house. Been in the bathroom at the same time as she was. I knew her nightly beauty routine now. Well, I supposed there was a chance it was her mom’s nightly beauty routine, which took the wind out of my sails a little. But still. Then a chill crept down my spine. They were so careless. So fucking clueless about how unsafe their house was. Look how easily I got in, without even breaking anything. I could’ve been anyone. I could’ve been a burglar, slinking into the house with a gun, rifling through their stuff while they stood, terrified, at gunpoint. The thought was unbearable. Oh, Dee. You really should be more careful.
But it was okay. I was around to protect her. I took out the moisturizer, unscrewed the bottle, and took a deep inhale. Everything would be okay, because I was here, and I was never going to leave her.