He nodded his head once before disappearing into his room, shutting the door softly behind him. Once inside my own room, I dropped my bag onto the floor and flung myself onto the soft, queen bed.
ChapterSix
THIRTEEN YEARS AGO (AGE 12)
Concentratingon keeping my hands from shaking, I worked the small brush to paint each of my toe nails as I sat in the front lawn of our house. The bright, neon pink polish that I’d just gotten from the drugstore that morning on an errand with my mom was the perfect shade for summer. It would looksogood with my pink bathing suit, and I was already trying to figure out how I could get Adam and Logan to take me swimming at our community-shared pool.
The sun was blaring down with particular strength on this hot July day, and I could feel sweat dripping down my back through my tank top while I squinted at my toes. This summer break from school had honestly been . . . well,boring. Adam was in a collegiate-level online summer program despite the fact that he was only about to be a junior in high school. I swear, he was such a nerd. And Logan had been busy either working one of his two jobs as a busboy at a couple of restaurants in town, or working on fixing up his car.
That damned car.
He’d bought the 1970 Chevelle SS from an older man two streets over who couldn’t look after it anymore. Dad had seen it sitting on the street with a for sale sign during one of his nighttime strolls through the neighborhood and had brought Logan over to look at it, knowing he was working hard to save money to buy his own car. He’d always been good to Logan in that way. He treated him like a second son, without fail. Where Adam was bookish and brainy, Logan was street smart and good with his hands, and my dad had figured out over the years how to be the father that both of them needed.
It was important to all of us that Logan felt like a member of this family, never an outsider. Besides us, he really only had his grandmother, who’d taken him in after all of his dad’s ugly secrets had come to light.
His dad had been—to summarize it in a few words—averyangry drunk. He’d become even angrier after Logan’s mother passed away when he was only five years old, which was around the time he’d met Adam in their kindergarten class. For so many years, Logan had been living in absolute hell in that house.
After Dad sent word about my parents’ suspicions to child services, Logan had been pulled from his house and was kept away for a couple of weeks while the authorities worked to figure out what to do with him. My parents had volunteered to be his guardians, but his grandmother was blood-related and, for reasons unknown to me, was given the first opportunity at having Logan. She’d accepted, although she really didn’t have the resources to care for him either, seeing as how she was older, basically immobile, and only making an income through her social security checks. Even still, the state said it was an acceptable placement, and so Logan was dropped off at her house.
While my parents were careful to only show us kids their positivity about the outcome, I knew that they were somewhat bitter. Logan deserved more than the bare minimum, and they’d wanted to give him so much more. Luckily, Logan’s grandmother also lived in town (on the other side, but still . . .) and so he was still at our house practically every day and most weekend nights with Adam.
So, last year when Dad showed Logan the old muscle car down the road, his excitement had been super obvious, and they’d gone up to knock on the car owner’s door together. Logan paid the twenty-five hundred dollar asking price for the car, even though he was only fifteen and couldn’t actually drive it yet. My parents let him keep the car in our garage while he worked to restore it, which he’d been obsessive about all summer when he had spare time. He’d finally gotten his driver’s license last week on his sixteenth birthday, and now was even more preoccupied driving that thing all around town.
And I . . . was bored.
As if in answer to my prayers, I heard the loud rumble of the Chevelle as it rounded the corner up the street. The glossy, black frame of the car glistened brightly under the sun as Logan drove the car toward the house and turned into the driveway. I watched as he rolled the windows up before he shut off the ignition and opened the car door.
He stepped out onto the driveway, his long and lean body looking more like it should belong to a man in his twenties rather than a newly sixteen-year-old boy. He wore a white T-shirt and fitted black jeans, looking—as usual—like a classic teenage heartthrob. As he began to move toward the front door, he spotted me sitting in the grass. “Hey, Mills,” he called out, using a nickname that only he used. I couldn’t help but notice the way his brown hair blew back from underneath his backward hat as a warm gust of wind curled around him.
“Hey,” I said, nonchalantly. “When are you going to take me for a ride in that?” I asked, nodding toward the car in the driveway.
Logan paused his stride and smirked. “You want a ride in the Chevelle?” I didn’t miss the small air of haughtiness that expelled out from him.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Logan continued to smile at me. “Okay, Millie. Sure. I’m here to make some plans with Adam for tonight, but I’ll take you out soon, okay?”
I nodded. “What are you guys doing tonight?”
Logan took a subtle glance at the front door before looking back my way. He let out a quick breath before stepping into the grass, coming over to where I was sitting. “Your parents are going out of town,” he said once he reached me, keeping his voice quiet.
I’d known this already. Dad was giving a keynote presentation at a surgical conference downtown in the morning, and he and my mom had planned to spend the night at a ritzy hotel in the city. “So?”
Logan chuckled, and I felt the low sound rumble within my own belly. “So. . . we might have some people over. Nothing major, just a casual hangout.”
“Like a party?” I asked, suddenly excited. A party would be afantasticway to break this summer boredom tour.
“No no—just a few people hanging out. Nothing big at all. Your parents would kill us if they found out.”
That was true. My parents were fairly trusting—enough to leave Adam and I home alone tonight—but if they caught wind that Adam had anyone over to the house besides Logan without their prior approval, I have no doubt that he’d be totally grounded. They would probably even try grounding Logan for it. “Can I hang out, too?”
Logan narrowed his eyes. “You’re twelve. You shouldn’t be hanging out with a bunch of high schoolers.”
“Logan, I’mbored.I’m not just going to stay in my room while you guys throw a party!”
“Shhh,” he said, panicking as he glanced back over his shoulder, as if my father could hear him all the way from inside his home office. “I already told you, it’s not a party, Mills.”
“Fine, but I still want to be included. You guys have practically ignored me all summer.” I scoffed.
