XPLR | Colby Brock

~120~

I couldn't help but look around as we went down into a subway station. Logan walked around, not paying  attention to anything or anyone around him as we walked downstairs. As if none of the people around him had a story to tell or something to them. I've lived in big cities all my life, but New York is in a league of its own. 

Logan looked over his shoulder at me as he placed my only bag, my carry on bag, on the ground. He won't let me carry anything but my purse. Turns out my luggage I put underneath the plane were lost, so that means I barely have any clothes. And I can't exactly afford to buy new ones, even though I sold my car. I should save it for my bills, Logan said, they'll be really expensive for the first few months. I'll be really poor.

He'll figure something out for my clothes, he told me. Being in New York City isn't so scary with Logan looking out for me. 

 "Why didn't we just take a taxi?" I asked quietly as he started to lead me towards a line of turnstiles. "A taxi? From Newark to Washington Heights? Listen, Rose, I know you're new to New York City, but you've gotta learn to love the subways pretty quick," he said with a chuckle. "Taxis are too expensive for how far we're going. If I could've gotten one for us, I would. Don't worry." 

I nodded to that. I looked around when I heard distant music. A woman with a violin played a pop song I didn't recognize. I stared for a moment, the musician part of me told me to stop and watch her, but Logan was already moving on. He opened his wallet and took out a yellow card, and he swiped it, went through, and handed it to me from the other side of the turnstile. "We'll get you your own later," he said. I nodded and took the card from it, following his example. 

"It's a long ride. You'll have to catch me up on everything that happened in Oregon," he said. Boy, do I have a story for you. Should I tell him about Colby? Who's going to stop me? Why should I care? Logan has seen me at my worst and Colby's worst. So I'll tell him whatever the hell I want. 

We got to the subway and he stood next to the rails and put his hands in his pockets. It's snowing. It's cold here. "I think you'll like your apartment," he said, "once you get moved into all of it." 

I looked at the ground, I didn't even hear what he said. 

I'm still thinking about Colby, and what I said to him. There's no going back now. I'm in New York, and it doesn't even feel like it. 

Colby called me the night before I left. He said he just wanted to hear from me, and that he was sorry for crashing my concert the night before. It was supposed to be a good night for me, and he ruined it. He ruins everything. 

I should've deleted his number and blocked it, ended everything before I could let it get to me and get me sad, but then again, I just couldn't. 

I didn't feel Logan looking at me, and I didn't realize how close was until I felt his arm around my shoulder. "Hey," he said, looking down at me, "what's wrong? You're in the greatest city in the world, Rosie, don't put your day off to a bad start." 

I just gave him a shy look, and I couldn't help but lean into his arm. It's freezing here. "Colby came to see an impromptu concert I had at my old high school I went to visit," I said as nonchalantly as I could. Logan paused, then gave a nervous laugh. "What?" 

"You heard me," I said simply. He laughed at that, and the arm around my shoulders gradually got more comfortable and slid down to my waist. He squeezed me one time, let go, and said, "Go on. What happened?" 

"He apologized for everything, but I think he expected me to accept it and go home with him." 

"Well, he's not following you here, is he?" Logan asked. 

"No. Why do you care?" 

"Because I don't like him. Isn't it obvious? I thought I made it so before I left Los Angeles." 

"He doesn't like you either," I said, breathing into my hands to warm them as a train pulled up. "This is ours," Logan said, taking my hand, holding my bag with the other, and pulling me onto the train. At the moment, I didn't realize why he did, but he was making sure we got on before the rest of the crowd did. It's rush hour. 

He stopped us in front of a seat and nodded down to it, telling me to sit. I did, and I couldn't help but look around the subway train and everyone in it with bewilderment. So many sights and smells. Logan stood in front of me, holding onto a rail. "You'll get used to it," he said, "now why doesn't Colby like me? Oh yeah, because he thinks I'm stealing you away from him." He smirked at me, and it was a smirk that said, he should be, because I definitely am. I wasn't even sure what was going on before I was already smiling back, and I giggled a little, "That's exactly what he thinks. He always hated you." 

Logan seemed content with himself that he made me laugh.