Page 90 of Man Flu

Chapter Twenty-six

Dickle. What is a Dickle?

LOGAN IS DICKLE15. DICKLE15 is Logan. That’s why he stopped talking to me. I’ve been sending him messages throughout the week, getting no response, and he’s been here all along. I’m not sure I’m capable of digesting this.

I’ve been sitting on the toilet seat cover for twenty-five minutes, staring at the speckles within the tiled floor. It’s creepy, right? I should be against this behavior. He joined a company to meet me. That’s borderline stalkerish—it’s something Brielle would do. I did tell him where I work, so that was my mistake. He never specified his career to me, and I never pushed the topic. I also did cancel our dates, but it was because I was scared of meeting any more creeps online, and now, here I am.

What would I be teaching Cora if I went along with this type of behavior? Granted, she may never find out, but I’m trying to teach her to avoid men like him.

Cora. It’s almost time to get her.

I step out of the bathroom and grab my clothes from the floor, finding Logan staring out the window from the bed. He hasn’t moved an inch since I went into the bathroom. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I have to go get Cora off the bus.”

“Okay, I’ll get my stuff together and head out.”

“Just wait, okay. I need more time to think. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

I dress quickly, avoiding eye contact with the perfect-looking man in my bed. That’s my problem. Perfect-looking men.

I run out of the bedroom and down the stairs, throwing my coat on and slipping into my snow boots, leaving the laces loose and hanging to the sides.

The winds are almost unbearable, and the snow is blowing sideways, directly into my face. It’s hard to see, it’s so bad. Why didn’t they close school earlier? There’s easily half a foot already.

I reach the bottom of the short hill and pull the hood of my jacket down over my face to block out some of the snow.

Somehow, by the grace of God, the bus is on time, and Cora jumps off the big step with her usual perky smile. I never should have let Logan in the house before I knew him well enough to let Cora get mixed up in this.

“How was school, kiddo?” I ask her, trying to hide the pain in my voice.

“It was boring. We couldn’t go out and play today.”

“You wouldn’t want to be outside in this for too long. Trust me,” I tell her.

As we walk closer to the house, she notices Logan’s truck in the driveway. “Logan is over?” she asks with excitement—excitement I’d rather not hear.

“He is. He had to help me with something for work,” I lie.

“So, he’s not staying again?”

“I’m not sure right now, sweetie.” This blows. I should have known something was up. Life doesn’t just happen the way it happened. He was so wrong to do what he did. It was deceitful, and I promised myself I’d never end up with someone like that again, not after what Rick did to me.

We walk inside, and Cora shakes the snow off her body and tosses her boots to the side. I follow suit, then hang everything up and place our wet boots on the doormat next to Logan’s.

“Beefcake Batman!” she shouts. She runs into the kitchen as if she knows exactly where he is.

“Miss Cora,” he says with a smile I can hear. “How was your snowy school day?”

Cora chatters more about her day in thirty-seconds to him than she did with me on the three-minute walk home. I hate that she likes him. I hate that he’s good with her. I hate that I let him into my house with Cora home, now that I know what he did.

“Can you make a snack?” Cora asks Logan.

“You may want to ask your mom first,” he tells her.

“I think you should go, and I’ll cancel your flight for tomorrow. Just do paperwork in the office until I decide what to do with you.”

Logan looks heartbroken, and I feel the same. I liked Dickle15. I knew if we met it would most likely be different. Then he stopped talking, and it proved to be a lose/lose situation.