Sherry Ficklin - Losing Logan

Then it hits me.

Help isn’t coming. Even if the police got my 911, they are still fifteen minutes away, and that’s if the call even went through. This is it. I’m going to hang here while Mr. Mason kills Kyle, then comes for me. I’ll die, and Logan will be stuck here.

With a desperate push of energy I pull myself up far enough to grab the cable with my other hand, and even with the burning in my arm, I somehow get my stomach on the bridge, then one knee, then the other.

Pushing through the yellow tape I rush at Mr. Mason, knocking him to the ground. One sharp punch to the throat and he’s gasping. He swings at my face and I see too late that he has a rock in his hand. It connects with my temple, completely cutting off my vision to that eye. But I don’t fall. Another punch to the neck, this time I hear bone crack and he gasps, wheezing for air. He drops the rock and I pick it up, smashing it into the side of his face over and over.

I’m not sure if it’s instinct, or rage, or the fear that he might keep getting up and keep coming after me, but I keep swinging until his face is so covered in blood that it doesn’t even look like a face anymore.

“Zoe,” Kyle coughs, rubbing his neck from where he sways on hands and knees.

“Zoe, you can stop now,” Logan says gently. I look over my shoulder, through my one good eye at The Reaper. I expect it to come for me, or Mr. Mason, or Logan, but it just vanishes.

“Huh. Looks like it wasn’t my time to go after all,” I whisper and fall, rolling off of Mr. Mason and onto my back. I blink once up at the bright white moon before everything goes dark.

As it turns out, dying feels a lot like falling asleep. There’s no pain or fear, just a quiet, accepting calm.

Or at least that’s how I remember it.

Living, however, hurts like a son of a bitch. I scratch at the hollow of my arm, where the IV is poking out of my skin. The tape itches like crazy, and that’s actually the least of my problems. The vision comes back in my right eye after a few days. Or maybe weeks. Who the hell knows? I’m on so many painkillers there’s no way to really know how much time is passing. Kyle comes in and sits with me sometimes. He’s pretty bruised up himself and I have to be careful not to make him laugh beacuse he can’t breathe on account of his broken ribs. He reads to me or shows me funny internet videos on his new phone.

Logan never leaves. He’s always there, in the corner of the room, watching me. I feel bad for him. I really thought that once he had his memory back, he’d be able to move on. Maybe that isn’t it at all. Maybe it never was. I try not to bring it up. Not even when he crawls in bed beside me at night.

The police have been in and out. Mr. Mason is still in a coma, or so they tell me. Part of me hopes he dies, part of me hopes he lives to answer for what he did. Either way, I won’t be butt hurt about it. Mom is in and out all the time, working at the hospital has its perks. She gets to see me on every break. She doesn’t make me talk about what happened, though she was there when I had to tell the cops how it went down. I leave out the part about Logan, of course. I’d like to see the outside of a hospital at some point in my life. The twins come by with flowers, Becker and Cassidy bring magazines. Even Madison and Becca come by, though I suspect only to get the gossip on what happened.

Today, Carlos has smuggled me in a burrito, which after a week of hospital food is like manna from heaven. Kyle sits in the chair beside me, reading me yet another get well card someone has sent. Who knew I’d become so popular?

“I have to ask, how did you know to come get me?” I ask softly when Carlos leaves to get me a soda.

Kyle frowns. “I was at home working on my computer, when random words started popping up on my screen.” He stops, looking away. “It was Logan, Zoe. He was saying Zoe, Tower, Now, over and over. Then help her, help her help her. I dropped everything and drove out.”

He looks up. “And you think I’m crazy.”

In the corner of the room, Logan grins. “You better let the poor guy off the hook or he’s going to have himself committed.”

I touch the side of his face with my non bandaged hand.

“You don’t sound crazy.” I take a deep breath, ignoring the pain in my chest. “Remember when you told me that you felt like Logan brought me to you, because he knew you needed me?”

He nods.

“Well, you were wrong. Logan led me to you, because he knew I needed you. I didn’t really understand why at the time, but he came to me and he told me—he told me I needed to let you in.” I feel the tear slip down my face.

Kyle smiles, kissing the tips of my fingers. “I told the police I was worried about you because we were supposed to meet up and you weren’t answering my texts. I told them I went to The Tower because I knew that sometimes you’d go up there to think.”

“Thanks for that.”

He shrugs. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Right back at you.”

I yawn and he sits back. “Okay, you need some rest. The doc is thinking about releasing you tomorrow, so no funny business.”

I grin and let his hand slip from mine. He kisses me on the forehead and leaves. As soon as he’s gone Logan takes his place. I just let my head lull to the side, staring at him. His eyes are so green today, like emeralds. I want to burn the picture of his face into my mind. I want to be able to close my eyes any time I want and be able to see those eyes perfectly in my mind.

“He’s right bruiser. You need to rest.”

I chuckle. “I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

He frowns.

“What?” I ask, “Too soon?”

“I thought you were going to die. You almost did, Zoe.”

A million responses go through my mind, the first of which is, would that really have been so terrible? But I don’t say it out loud, because I know what his answer will be.

And, I know the truth. The truth is, hanging there, on that bridge, I could have let go. It would have been so easy to just not fight. But I couldn’t. Something inside me, something I didn’t even know existed, wanted to cling to life, to fight for it at any cost. It was that instinct that let me pull myself up, that surge of adrenaline that let me take down Mr. Mason. I guess I can’t deny it any longer. The funny thing is that Logan saw it, even when I didn’t.

“Well, I did promise.” I say finally.

* * *

My first day back at school was like coming back from the dead. You’d have thought I was gone for three months instead of two weeks. Everyone hovers around me, alternately trying to get details on what happened and trying to play nurse. I let it go for a while, but by lunch I’ve had it. Madison is cutting my pizza into little squares so I can eat it with a fork, since my right arm is still in a sling.

“Okay, I’m hurt, but not an invalid. Knock it off.” I say grumpily. She slides the plate back to me with a pout on her lips. “Sorry Madison. This is just a little too much smothering. But I really appreciate you trying to take care of me,” I add quickly.

“Yeah, she’s a tough cookie,” Becker says, tossing a French fry at me. I can’t help but grin.

“So, the voting for Homecoming Court is today. Have you voted yet? I can do it for you if you are too hurt to check the little boxes yourself, ” Darla offers playfully.

I nod.

“Yeah, I voted for Becker and Cassidy,” I say pointing at them with my fork.

Cassidy puts her hand to her chest like I’ve just done something truly touching. Kyle leans over and whispers, “Kaylee always made everyone vote for her, no matter what.”

I sigh. Kaylee was a bitch, even being dead couldn’t elevate her to sainthood. My pity at the way she died only goes so far, and apparently, this is where that well runs dry. But I don’t say anything, I just smile warmly.

“Cassidy would make a beautiful Homecoming Queen. I know, I’ve seen the dress.”

“Which reminds me, what time do you want the limo to pick you up?” Becca asks, stabbing a bite of salad and stuffing it into her mouth.

“Limo? I thought that was a prom thing?”

She rolls her eyes, going for a piece of my cut pizza with her fork. I slide it away with a grin. “Normally, yes. But in light of everything, I’ve decided to pull out all the stops. Life is short right?”

Around the table people stare at her like she’s said something wrong. I hold up my pizza so I can take a bite.

“Right.”

In the corner booth Logan stares out the window at the people walking by.

The rest of the day goes by quickly, considering its Friday, and Homecoming. The halls are decorated in maroon and white streamers and posters plaster every wall. The dance is tonight, the game tomorrow. Kyle is a bundle of nerves.

“I’m still not back to one hundred per cent,” he grumbles, rubbing his ribs gently. “And this is our toughest matchup this year.”

Reaching up on my toes I kiss him softly, pressing out foreheads together. “I know. I’m so sorry you got hurt because of me.”

He tilts my chin up. “Hey, it was worth it.”

“Even if you lose tomorrow?”

He tilts his head back and forth like he’s debating. Then he grins, “Yeah, even if.”

I smile. “Good. Because, there’s something I have to take care of before the dance tonight, is it cool if I just meet you there?”

He looks puzzled. “Yeah, that’s fine. But Madison will be very disappointed.”

I frown, “I know. But she’ll live and it’s important.”

Then, just as we are walking out of the front doors Becca comes running up to me, spinning me to face her.

“Hey Zoe, before you go, I want to show you something.”

“Okay.” I let her lead me back down the hall. “I’ll see you tonight,” I call out to Kyle, who waves goodbye.

Becca steers me toward one of the empty classrooms. Just when I’m sure something terrible is about to happen, all the girls yell, “Surprise!”

Becca claps. There’s a tiny, one person size cake on the table. It says, congratulations in pink and green frosting.

“What’s this about?”

She hugs me gently, careful to avoid the sling.

“You won Homecoming Queen, silly,” Madison says, hugging me next. Cassidy is next in line.

“We all voted for you. And so did, like everyone else.”

Wow. I’m so shocked I don’t know what to say. Looking at their happy faces I’m completely speechless.

Becca laughs, “And that’s why we decided to tell you now. Because it’s customary for The Queen to give a short speech. We figured you’d need a little advance notice to gather your thoughts.”

“I can’t even…I don’t know…thank you guys. So much.” I feel like I’m going to cry as they collapse on me, in one big, group hug.

“You deserve it,” Logan whispers over my shoulder.

I let mom snap a couple pictures of me in my dress before I run out the door. Logan slips into the car with me.

“I appreciate you wanting me to be there, Zoe, but I’d really rather sit this one out,” he says sadly.

“Oh, we aren’t going to the dance.”

He perks up in alarm. “Then where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

I drive for about fifteen minutes, pulling into the cemetery parking lot.

“What are we doing here?” he asks as I get out of the car, careful not to catch my dress in the door.

“Just come on, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

I probably look hilarious climbing the stone wall in my tight lace dress, heels in hand, but I don’t really care. I drop down on the other side, motioning for Logan to follow me. The moon is full and it sets the cemetery aglow with a soft white light. I come to a stop in a familiar part of the cemetery, not far from where Logan is buried. Kneeling in the soft grass I touch the white headstone, letting my fingers trace the name.

Thomas Parker Reed.

Beloved husband and father.

“Did I ever tell you how he died?”

Logan stands behind me, I can feel him like an extension of myself. Standing up, I close my eyes, picturing him in my mind. When I open them, The Reaper is standing between me and the headstone.

“Zoe,” Logan reaches out but I wave him off.

“No, it’s alright,” I say softly. “I was sick. Stomach flu or something. I wanted some soup, but we didn’t have any in the house. Dad was driving to the store to get some when he was hit by a drunk driver. He died and the other guy walked away without a scratch.”