I love living independently in my cozy apartment. I enjoy visiting my parents, but I am quite happy living away from Emerley. I enjoy the complete anonymity of living in a city. I know all teenagers look forward to their freedom when they leave for college, but my desire to leave was much greater than that.
It makes me feel like a complete asshole, but I needed to escape the weight of this household. I love my mom beyond measure; I just wanted a break from her. My dad understoodand encouraged me to go. He was always so incredibly supportive to both of us, I wish I had realized it then and appreciated all the sacrifices he made for us. I wish he was here to support me now.
Maybe if I had stayed, things would be different. Maybe I would have seen mom’s mental health declining. Maybe I would have seen the signs my father was cheating on her. Maybe none of this would be happening. And so, my spiraling thoughts continue. I’m pretty sure I’m going to wish and maybe myself right to death.
I text Logan a couple of hours ago, and he still hasn’t responded. This is becoming a theme lately.
When he initially returned to school, we text and spoke multiple times a day. We even managed to fit in one hot, late night FaceTime call. But I have felt a shift since his last visit. Maybe it’s just my imagination, but over the last couple of weeks, he’s been distracted, and I can feel him pulling away.
When we do talk, he’s quieter. Even after all these years of being friends we still always have lots to talk about. He still asks me about my day and my mom, but something is different. I’ve asked him if everything is okay, and he just says he’s tired.
He is supposed to be moving home after exams in April, but whenever I bring it up, he changes the subject. I know he’s focused on completing assignments and studying for exams, but we have always made time for each other no matter how busy we are.
I have been preoccupied with my mom and all the estate stuff lately, so maybe he feels neglected? I don’t know.
There is a tiny voice in the back of my head that says he didn’t sign up for this. We are supposed to be starting our life together away from Emerley, and I flipped the script with my family drama.
Maybe he has met someone else who is less messy. Someone who can be there with him.
Logically, I know that’s not the case. Logan is my best friend; he loves me and would never hurt me like that. But I never dreamed my dad would cheat and hurt Mom either.
Ugh, I shake my head to clear my thoughts of problems that don’t exist. It’s fine. Everything is fine, he’s just busy. I’ll just call him to ease my mind so I can go to sleep.
I pull on one of his T-shirts with my sweats and wool socks. After tying my hair up in a scrunchy, I climb into bed.
It’s already 11:30 p.m., but he’s a night owl so I’m sure he’s still awake sketching or watching a movie. I hate to think of him all alone at our apartment. Maybe we should get a cat, so he has company.
Snuggling deep under my cozy blankets, I dial his number. The phone rings multiple times before it goes to voicemail. I don’t want to leave another message, so I try again.
The phone rings five times before it finally connects. Smiling, I put the call on speaker phone.
“Helllllo, Logan’s phone,” an unfamiliar girl’s voice sing songs over the line.
My jaw drops and eyes widen as I clench the phone in my hand.What the actual fuck?!
“Hey, give me that!” I hear Logan wrestle his phone from her while she giggles.
“Logan?” I call. I can barely hear him above the noise.
“Umm yeah. Hey, Hannah.”
I can hear a group of people chanting “shots, shots, shots” in the background. Sounds of loud music and laughter come through the phone.
“Sorry about that. I set my phone down to take my turn, and she grabbed it. What’s up?”
“I’m confused, Logan, what’s going on? Where are you and who answered your phone?”
Logan doesn’t spend much time out at bars with friends and only drinks occasionally, so this feels completely out of character.
“I’m at my place. I have no idea who she is. The hockey boys are throwing a floor party.”
“Your place? Like back at the dorm?” I question because this doesn’t make any sense.
“I thought you were staying at my apartment for the rest of the semester?”
“No, I ended up coming back here,” he sighs. “Look, can we talk later?”
“I think we should talk now. Can you go into your room?”
