Logan
The first few months after Sophie died, I’d had a bit of trouble digesting the news. My brain refused to register it, and for weeks after, I’d see Sophie everywhere. I’d be standing in line at the cafeteria and I’d hear her laugh and turn my head just in time to catch her turning a corner. I’d drop everything—tray, food, and water crashing to the floor, heads turning in my direction, people whispering, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. All that mattered was me running, running, calling out her name. But I was never fast enough. By the time I turned the corner, she was always gone, dispersing into thin air like a breeze.
It took months for it to finally sink in, for the neurons in my brain to finally relay the message to my consciousness: Sophie was dead. She was gone. She’d been alive, and now she no longer was, and all I could do was keep going, keep living, while the memory of Sophie lurked under the surface.
Except now she’d been called up again, shaken out of her slumber. I’d be talking to Delilah, watching her perfect mouth move as she spoke, and suddenly her lips would turn red, her eyes lined in that dramatic way, and I’d be talking to Sophie, and it was like old times, so perfect, and I could reach out and touch Sophie, my Sophie. She flinched when I pulled her close and tried to kiss her.
“Logan, you promised, no physical stuff unless I’m okay with it,” she said.
I blinked, and it was no longer Sophie standing before me. Right. I was with Delilah. I let go of her and squinted into the sunset, trying to clear my head. “Sorry, I—”
She was watching me with concern, which made my heart beat faster, golden heat spreading across my chest, drowning out my anxiety. That’s right, Sophie was dead, she was still gone, but I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Delilah, and she was falling in love with me. She’d stopped fighting me. She’d stopped scowling whenever I met her for lunch, and our dates no longer consisted of her trying to pick fights over the smallest things. The other day, she actually plucked a stray leaf from my hair. I’d almost died when she reached out and her fingers brushed my forehead. Yes, things were definitely looking up with Delilah. Which was why I had to get myself together. I couldn’t keep living in the past, clinging to the ghost of Sophie.
“Sorry. It doesn’t matter. I’m here with you,” I said.
Delilah smiled and twirled a lock of hair with her index finger. I blinked, and Sophie stared back at me, twirling her hair. I blinked again. No. I was with Delilah. I took a deep breath and looked around to clear my head. We’d been strolling around the campus grounds and were outside the old chapel, sharing a thermos of hot chocolate Delilah had brought with her. Stone flowerpots lined the path leading up to the chapel entrance. It was a quiet, peaceful spot, one of the oldest buildings at Draycott. Moss half covered everything. Sophie used to love this place. She’d come here and sit by the gravestones to think, running her fingers over the carvings, reading the names out—
Stop thinking of her!
It was this place, I realized. It was Draycott. Sophie was everywhere here. If I went to the Eastern Gardens, she was there, bending over to stroke the petals of a flower. If I went to the pool, she was there, tucking her hair into her swimming cap, swinging her arms ’round and ’round to warm up her muscles. She was in the library, the gymnasium, the corridors. Draycott was saturated with her. The only way I could be rid of her ghost was to leave this place.
If things went as planned, Delilah and I would be in NUS by this time next year. A whole new place just for Delilah and me. Our futures gleamed in front of me, perfect and golden.
“So I told my mom we sent in our applications on Tuesday,” I said, my voice coming out louder than I’d expected in the silence. “She said she’ll make sure the dean gets it.”
Delilah’s mouth twitched. “I’m still not used to the idea that you could just hand your application over to the dean instead of mailing it to the admissions office like everybody does.”
“Hey, that’s life. You have to use whatever advantage you have.”
Delilah sat down on a bench and tucked her feet under her. I got a flash of Sophie once more. My head felt fuzzy. Damn that Mendez. The conversation with her had really thrown me off balance.
“Any other schools your mom is affiliated with that she can get you into?” Delilah asked. At least she didn’t seem to notice I was hanging on to reality by the tips of my fingers.
“Maybe. Does it matter? NUS is a given for you and me,” I said.
Delilah gave a nervous smile. “Hah. I’m not going to count on it until I have the acceptance letter in my hands.” She took a sip of hot chocolate.
“Suit yourself, but get used to the idea,” I said, gesturing for her to pass me the thermos. I sat down next to her and leaned my head back, gazing at the sky while I took a big mouthful of the rich, molten chocolate. The side of my left leg touched Delilah’s, but she didn’t move hers away. I closed my eyes, trying to preserve this moment, this perfect moment with the girl of my dreams.
“Logan,” she sighed, and I realized I’d put my arm around her shoulders. I hadn’t meant to, but now that I had, it felt absolutely perfect. She fit into the space like she’d been made just for me. When she tried to move away, I held tight. “Logan,” she said again, and now there was a touch of panic in her voice.
“Isn’t this perfect?” I almost couldn’t recognize my own voice, it came out all high and chirpy and weird, almost like a screech. I cleared my throat. “This is great.”
“I don’t feel comfortable.”
I hated that note of fear in Dee’s voice. Why was she still so fearful of me? After all this time, couldn’t she tell how pure my intentions were? Had I not been patient enough? I hadn’t even tried kissing her again. Speaking of kisses, she was the one who first kissed me, after that magical first date. It wasn’t like she asked for my consent, so why couldn’t I put my arm around her? It was just one arm. And she was always baking for me, surely that meant she loved me. Nobody bakes for people they’re not in love with.
Only when silence fell, sudden and heavy, did I realize I’d spoken this out loud. Jesus. Delilah was staring at me wide-eyed, like a trapped deer.
“Sorry, Dee. I didn’t mean, I—”
She swallowed thickly. “No, it’s fine.” A forced smile. “You’re right, I did kiss you after our first date, and I wanted to at the time, but…”
“Not now? Why? Why not?”
“Because of the video, Logan!” she cried. She stopped herself and took a deep breath. “Look, I didn’t want to tell you this before, because I guess I’ve been fighting it for so long, and I keep telling myself this is wrong, but—” Another deep breath, this one lasting a whole eternity. Her eyes sparkled with tears when she looked at me. “I like you.”
The words were hushed, and yet I felt them searing through my entire being, blasting through my skin, my flesh, and drilling straight to the marrow of my bones. She liked me. Delilah liked me.
“What?”
“You’re right,” she continued, “no one would ever love me the way that you do. The way that I want to be loved. You know everything about me, and you accept me for who I am. How can I not like you, Logan?”
There were no words. I kept opening and closing my mouth, but nothing came out. I was a bubble. Floating, flying, zipping through the clouds. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Delilah liked me! I grabbed her arms and pulled her to me. Her mouth was so close, so kissable, just a single inch separated us, but she pulled away. What the fuck?
She put a hand against my chest. “Logan, you don’t get it, do you?”
I shook my head. No, I sure as hell did not.
“I—I’m falling in love with you,” she whispered, “and it scares me to death. I’ve never loved a guy before, not like this. And I want it to be perfect, do you understand?”
“It is. It’s totally perfect.”
“No, it’s not. How can it be perfect when you have that video over my head? When I fall in love, I want it to be pure. Nothing between us but pure, innocent love. When I kiss you again—and I will, I’ve been dreaming about it—but when we do kiss again, I want it to be like our first kiss, where all I wanted was you and there was nothing hanging over me.”
I gaped at her as her words swam through my head like a school of fish, whirling this way and that one second and dispersing the next. I could hardly fathom what she was saying. My mind was still singing with the joy of having her tell me she liked me. No, not just liked. She said she was falling in love with me. It was finally happening!
But no. It wasn’t. Something was stopping her, she said. Clarity plodded in on painfully slow legs. The video. I struggled to understand. But why? The video was safe with me, surely she saw that. But maybe she was right. The video made our relationship different. We weren’t on the same level as each other.
I nodded slowly, and Delilah visibly relaxed. Anger shot through me, sudden and surprising. Why was she so fucking worried about that video all the time? She squeaked, and that was when I realized I’d tightened my hold on her arms. I loosened my grip, but she still looked scared, and I hated that, I had to explain to her that she was safe. There was nowhere safe for Delilah except with me.
“You need to trust me, Dee, do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
But she didn’t. She looked like she wanted to run away from me. I knew then that I had no choice. I had to kill her, to stop her from running away from me. To save her. The video didn’t matter. I could delete that, no problem. It wouldn’t make a difference. All that mattered was making sure she was mine. Mine for eternity.