Sherry Ficklin - Losing Logan

“Are you crying?” He asks, his tone shocked.

I make a face. “Pfft. No. My eyeballs are sweating.”

He chuckles. “Okay, this is me. What’s up?”

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself before I speak. The emotions are washing over me so quickly I feel like I’m in an estrogen blender. What is my problem?

I rub at the corner of my eye. “I suppose I just thought…I thought I’d go all the way through high school as a nobody, you know? Like, I figured no one would ever see me, ever care what I thought or what I did. Now it’s like—“

“Everyone is watching.”

I nod. “Exactly. I went from being invisible to being the center of attention overnight. All by not actually being myself. I feel like a total fraud.”

As soon as the words are out, I feel the truth of them aching into my bones. I’m a fraud as a girlfriend, a fraud as a friend, and a fraud as a leader. I may have convinced myself I was doing it to help Logan, but deep down, I wanted to be seen. And now I am. And all I can think is how quickly I would give it all back if it meant Logan didn’t have to be dead.

I suck in a sharp gasp.

“What Zoe?”

I look up at Carlos, waiting patiently for me to spill my guts to him. But the thing is, I can’t. I can’t ever say the words that are eating away at my soul. Not out loud, to him or anyone else.

I’m in love with Logan.

I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing hysterically. Of course I’m in love with Logan. He’s the very epitome of the unattainable hero. Handsome, smart, a giant pain in the ass sure, but he’s also a really good guy. He’s perfect actually, except for the fact that he’s dead.

Oh sure. I have a perfectly great guy—one who is still breathing—and the popularity I always wanted. And what do I do? I go and fall for the dude with no pulse.

There is something so very, very wrong with me.

Inside my mind something flashes. What if Logan isn’t really haunting me? What if I’ve had some sort of a mental breakdown? It would actually be more plausible than the truth.

“I wonder.”

“What?” Carlos asks, grabbing another slice of pizza.

“I wonder if there’s some kind of support group for people who are my brand of crazy.”

Carlos winks, “Oh sugar, I doubt it.”

When Carlos leaves it’s after nine and I’m lying in bed, the covers pulled up to my chin, flat on my back and staring at the ceiling. I’m trying to think back, trying to isolate the point when I lost my mind. It’s harder than it sounds because, let’s face it, I’ve been a mess since the day my dad died. I play it over and over in my head, the funeral, seeing Logan in the coffin. Everything rolls through my brain over and over in Technicolor. My stomach is churning and my mouth is watering like I might actually throw up. And I’m so cold I’m shivering all over.

Shock.

I think I’m in shock.

Maybe I should call my mom?

As soon as the thought comes, Logan appears in my room. I feel him more than I see him. The lights are all off, the blinds are closed and the curtains drawn. I’ve even unplugged my alarm clock. It’s just darkness and a hint of shadow.

“Zoe, are you alright?”

The sound of his voice unspools a ribbon of pain inside my hollow chest. I squeeze my eyes closed. Out of nowhere my overhead light flips on. I jerk upright in bed.

Logan is standing there, his hand still hovering over the switch. He glances from it to me, his face just as surprised as I’m sure mine is.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, moving to the foot of my bed and sitting down. I curl my feet out of the way, flopping back down.

“I got accused of murdering your girlfriend today. Cut me some slack.” My voice is bitter and cold, sharper than I mean for it to be. But everything is so raw, I feel like if I don’t strike out at someone—anyone—I’ll just end up cutting myself to shreds.

“Yeah, about that. I followed the cops for a while. Sounds like you were their best lead, but when you were able to explain everything…well, let’s just say they believed you and that’s all that matters.”

“So do they have any other leads? Anything at all?”

He sits back, curling his legs under him, leaning back against the footboard.

“Not really. They are looking for the mystery guy she was seeing. But other than that, nothing. They said she was only a few weeks pregnant, so there’s no chance of recovering any DNA.”

“And even if they could, they would have to have a guy to match it to, which they don’t.”

“Exactly. So I went back to The Tower, that’s where they found her body. They think she was thrown off the top.”

I shiver, adding another layer of goosebumps to my skin.

“And they are sure she didn’t just jump?”

“I guess she’d been pretty badly beaten up first. I saw her body. In the morgue. I just—“

His voice cracks. I fight not to look at him, I don’t want to see the pain in his eyes. I have enough of my own emotional damage to deal with.

“Anyway, afterwards I went to her house, to the cemetery, the school. Anywhere I could think of.”

I swallow and it feels like hot coals going down my throat. “You went looking for her. For her ghost.”

“I didn’t find anything. Noting except that ring wraith that’s been following me. He got really close to me tonight at the cemetery, Zoe. I thought… I just had this feeling like if he touched me, I would disappear. Like he’d eat my soul. I freaked out and screamed at him. I asked him if Kaylee was gone.”

I wait, not moving. I’m completely paralyzed, even my lugs aren’t working.

“He didn’t answer, not that I could hear, but I sort of felt it. It’s hard to explain. But Kaylee isn’t here. He’s not a ghost.”

“Do you think he got to her, this Reaper?”

He hesitates. “Reaper? As in the Grim Reaper?”

Another long pause.

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I mean, he even looks like the Grim Reaper. I guess I always thought it was just nonsense.”

“Like ghosts?”

“Point made. But no, I don’t think he did anything to her. I think she just moved on the way she was supposed to.”

I roll my eyes. “If she got into heaven, I’m going to file a formal complaint.”

He chuckles. I sit up slowly, letting my bitterness cover the pain like a balm, numbing everything inside me.

“She was our best lead, Logan. What are we supposed to do now?”

He shakes his head. “When I went back to The Tower, I sort of remembered something else.”

“What?”

“I remember driving up to The Tower that night. I just wanted to be alone. Only her car was in the parking lot. I parked, opened my door, and that’s when I heard it.”

“What?”

“A struggle. I heard her screaming. I started the engine back up and drove through the trees into the clearing beside The Tower. I remember seeing her in my headlights. She was…”

“What damn it?”

“Naked. She was naked.”

“Holy shit dude.”

“I remember thinking, what is going on? Like, I thought she was running from someone. But it wasn’t fear on her face, it was surprise. She wasn’t alone. She was…”

I hold up my hand. “Ok, no details please. I’d like very much not to throw up tonight, thank you.”

“You get the idea.”

“Wait, so you saw the guy? The mystery guy?”

“Yeah, but the thing is, I can’t remember his face.”

“You think he killed you.”

“Well someone did, and I doubt it was Kaylee.”

“And then, he killed her too.”

He nods again. His face is ashen, his cheeks hollow. His eyes are rimmed in red. I reach out, not thinking, and take his hand. He feels solid under my fingers.

I sigh when the feeling of his skin finally fades away.

“It’s getting longer each time I touch you. I can feel you longer.”

He half smiles, running a finger lightly over the top of my hand. I can feel it, like someone is rubbing an ice cube on my skin.

“What do you think it means?”

He sighs heavily. “I don’t know. But I feel like, we have to figure out what happened to me, and soon. I don’t want that Reaper anywhere near you.”

I frown, “I don’t think he’s here for me, Logan.”

“No, but if he comes for me and you get caught in the crossfire…” His voice drops to a whisper. “I don’t know what I’d do if anything ever happened to you, Zoe.”

My breath hitches in my throat.

“Probably have to find a new girl to stalk,” I say, trying to break the tension. But he looks up, his eyes melting into mine. He scoots forward, our faces only inches apart. Reaching up he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, tracing his fingertips along the curve of my jaw. My heart launches into an uneven gallop because I can feel him. The pads of his fingers and the warmth of his breath are real. Or maybe I just want to feel him so desperately that my mind is playing tricks. I don’t know. Don’t care.

I just don’t want it to end.

“Zoe,” he whispers my name softly, like a plea or a prayer. His voice is thick with longing and it rolls along my skin like the breaking tide.

I can’t breathe, can’t move. It’s like the world is dying and being born all around me over and over. I should say something, do something, but I’m on fire, combusting from the inside out.

He presses his lips to mine and I’m undone. All thought and reason and logic are burned away in a ball of fire. I close my eyes, letting the world around us melt away. My body aches and throbs and all I can smell is Logan, cool and fresh like spring water, all I can feel is his mouth moving on mine, desperate and passionate. I run my hands up the back of his neck, weaving my fingers through his hair. He pulls me against him and the ache inside me grows, painful and raw. I’m burning like a star, I can feel the heat inside me, almost unbearable, and I don’t know how long I can contain it.

A cold wind whips through the room, hitting me like a bucket of ice water. I pull back, shivering and numb, grasping at air. Logan blinks, then spins, leaping to his feet. His body goes rigid and for the first time I can see why.

I can see The Reaper.

I’m still frozen, only now it’s literal, like having the worst case of frostbite in history. My fingers and toes are numb, my face bitter cold. I can actually see my breath in the air.

“What do you want from me?” Logan demands.

The hooded figure doesn’t answer. It just stands there, long brown robe pooling on the floor around it, hood drawn so its face is hidden in shadow. Raising a hand it points, past Logan to me.

“You can’t have her. I won’t let you touch her.”

Logan is defiant and bold, stepping toward the creature, his hands balled into fists at his side.

It shakes its head slowly.

Stepping forward, Logan throws a punch, but his fist passes through the figure. He rocks back, surprised.

“Just take me instead,” Logan pleads softly. “Leave her alone and take me.”

I lunge forward, finally able to move. I can feel the adrenaline course through my veins like acid, burning away the cold.

“No!” I reach for Logan, but he’s a ghost again and I can’t make contact with him. He turns to look at me.

“Logan, don’t you dare give yourself up to that freak.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

I back up, moving to the edge of my bed. “Please, Logan. I don’t want to lose you. Not yet. It’s not fair.”

His face falls and he turns away from me, back to The Reaper.

I back myself into the corner of my bed, reaching blindly behind me. Wrapping my fingers tightly around a metal rod I race forward, swinging at The Reaper wildly. The fireplace poker connects, dropping the creature to its knees. As I draw back for another blow it vanishes.

“That’s what I thought, you pathetic Ghost-of-Christmas-Future wanna be.” I drop the iron rod to the floor with a thud. Running to Logan I find that I still can’t touch him.

“Sorry,” I say shaking my head. “I couldn’t let him take you.”

He looks past me to the iron rod.

“How long have you had that in here?”

I shrug. “Since the cemetery.”

“Well, good thinking. And, uh, thanks for not using that on me.”

“No problem.”

Neither of us says anything else, we just sort of stand there, the discomfort growing between us. How does a passionate kiss turn into awkward silence? Like this, I suppose. I want to say something, but I can’t think of anything that doesn’t make me sound like a total freak so I clamp my mouth shut. It’s Logan who finally breaks the silence.