“Like Wednesdays,” I said.
“But with a keg,” he added, and we both laughed. “Okay, well, text me with how it’s going. And I’ll talk to you tomorrow. We have early afternoon skate, but then the evening is completely open.”
“Mine too,” I said. There was a moment of hovering when we both would typically sign off. I wanted to give a breezy “love you,” but no. I wanted to be face-to-face, ideally body-to-body, with Logan the first time I told him I loved him.
Ideally after he said it to me first!
“Okay. Night, Megan,” he said, after his own awkward pause that felt like maybe he’d been thinking the same thoughts I was.
“Night, Logan. Congrats on the win.”
After we hung up, I listened to hear if Emily was still fighting with Caleb on the phone or if it was safe to go see if she wanted to talk. I could hear her voice, so I knew she was still on the phone. It wasn’t loud like it’d been earlier, but softer, measured, and I thought that either they were making up or maybe she was trying to make her point. I couldn’t make out the words, but thought I heard pleading in the tone.
Oof.I hated that Emily might be going through a breakup right when I couldn’t wait to see Logan, having been apart for two nights now.
“I just checked and the game’s over. So, how long before things get going at Logan’s house?” Chloe asked as she and Abby came out of their room to join me in our common area.
“He just called after showering. So, give them, like, a half hour, I would guess.”
They were wearing casual clothes for them on a Saturday night, having decided to go to Logan’s party rather than the larger hockey party, or any of the other costume parties going on around campus. I suspected the presumed attendance of Connor was the reason why. I wasn’t even sure if Abby knew she was meant to be Chloe’s wingman tonight. It probably wouldn’t matter anyway; Abby was happy to let Chloe call the shots on their shared outings.
I didn’t blame her. Chloe had a knack for finding the best parties. She really did have this campus wired in just a couple of months. But I wanted to make sure Abby knew what she was getting into.
“And you know that a bunch of people from my grief study group are going to be there, right? And that the whole idea was because nobody felt like making an effort?”
Abby nodded and Chloe did a ta-da movement over her outfit of jeans, simple crew-neck sweater, and kicks. “That’s why we’re dressed down. We’re reading the room.”
I nodded. “I don’t know what hockey guys will be there. Maybe Logan’s housemates, but they’ll probably go to the costume party at the other players’ house.”
“Whatever. We can always ditch it and go somewhere else if it turns into support group or whatever,” Chloe said.
I could only laugh, hoping her insensitivity was a joke. I wasn’t quite sure.
No sooner had they left than Mallory called. Called instead of texted, which didn’t seem like a good sign.
She was in the bathroom at the school and crying because she’d overheard someone making fun of her dress, and someone else saying something about not having a mother to tell her she looked stupid.
She’d sent me a pic before she went. She’d chosen an old dress of Mom’s that was very cool and vintage and would have been killer in any place other than a Midwest freshman dance, where individuality was yet to make an appearance. I talked her down (while silently cursing out the bitches who’d hurt my sister) and assured her that she looked great and they were probably just jealous. (An explanation that always made girls feel better, even if it was most likely not true.) And also that she had originality, and that would always cause people to not “get” her.
It was true, and it seemed to help Mallory. But I couldn’t help but think that Mom would have handled it better.
For one, she wouldn’t be thousands of miles away.
After talking with Mallory, I called my dad and told him I thought things were in hand, and to wait it out until she got home. I spoke with Micah, who had just hit that “too cool to trick-or-treat” age but was lamenting his lack of candy on the night after.
When things had settled on the home front, I thought about heading over to Logan’s after all, but Emily came out from our room with a tear-stained face and in a quavery voice announced she and Caleb had broken up.
We ordered ice cream and pizza and other treats and spent the rest of the night rehashing their call with her ping-ponging between Good Riddance, Caleb and I’ll Never Love Again.
At two in the morning, we crawled into our beds. I checked my phone one last time to find a text from Logan that I’d missed an hour earlier.
I miss you. Yes, I’m very drunk, but it’s true.
I gave him a heart and kiss emoji, then the ZZZs and snuggled into a deep, junk-food-induced sleep.
When I woke up, everything had changed.
Chapter30
