XPLR | Colby Brock

~122~

Logan leaned back in his seat and took a deep breath, then exhaled as he rubbed his stomach. "I ate way too much. Put a wig on me and I'd look pregnant," Logan said, laughing. I laughed too, and he smiled at me for that. 

"You're so much more beautiful when you aren't frowning all the time. I know you're still upset over him, but I'm sure you'll have forgotten about him by this time next week," he said. I scoffed a little bit at that. "Why do you say that? Maybe I don't want to just forget him." 

He held up his hands in mock surrender, and for some reason, that made me angry. If we're  friends, shouldn't you be taking my heartbreak seriously?

"Because, by this time next week you'll be in school, and you'll be working. Between that and commute and being poor and sleeping, there's never time for dating," Logan shrugged, sitting back and swirling the ice around his nearly empty glass. The waitress came back towards us and asked, "What did you have?"

"Dr. Pepper," he answered shortly. His smiled as charismatic and flirtatious, and it made the waitress swoon a bit. When she walked away, I cut my eyes at him and said, "No, you had water."

He tipped an imaginary hat at me and said, "That's how it's done. In case you've forgotten, I'm living in a one bedroom apartment, a pretty nice one, in Washington Heights. I work two jobs, and neither of them pay that well. Casually using someone's lack of attention and focus to get a small luxury isn't so much non-respectable, but maybe even admirable. Admirable of my street smarts, that is," he said as the waitress placed his new drink in front of him and he smiled at her. 

I rolled my eyes and looked out the window. 

"You're moody now," he said, taking a sip and putting it down on the table. "Talk to me, Rosie," he prodded as he leaned onto the table. 

"I'm just tired," I answered. He laughed. I looked up at him when he didn't follow up. "What?" 

"I'm just tired," he mocked me. "Look, that's not helping my "moodiness", you know," I said, popping a french fry in my mouth. I pushed my hair behind you ear. 

"You're scared," He said. "I'm not scared!" I answered, and I know I sounded more offended than I actually was. Can you be offended by something that's true? 

Do you have the right to be offended by something that's true, Colby?

I don't want to think about Colby right now. 

"It's okay to be scared, Rose. Everyone was scared when we first got to the city," Logan said. "You were born here," I countered, crossing my arms. "No one truly knows the city until they're on their own in it. Before I was seventeen I had my mom showing me what to do, how to take care of myself."

"I'm just scared of being alone. Like you said. I mean, my first class is January 3rd... I mean, I've spent Christmases alone for a long time, but... I don't know, I would spend it with my friend's family, Elena's family... this year Colby and I were supposed to fly back to Kansas with Sam to spend Christmas with him and his people. But we broke up, so now I'm going to be alone," I said. "It just makes me miss my mom. My dad too, a little. Because if he was still alive, even though he was an asshole, at least I'd have someone to go home to." 

Logan stared at me for a few seconds. "You can always come home with me. And don't worry, I'll tell them you're not my girlfriend before we even get there."

I wasn't sure what to think. 

That... that sounds nice. 

I was never really welcomed by Elena's family, and I never really had Christmases with my family, just my mother and my father. And when Momma died, my Christmases turned into times of grieving. Christmas break was two weeks of hell, as well. The Christmas when I was fifteen was a tough one, because my father hit me for the first time in weeks on Christmas Eve. 

The memory of that made me tear up.

"Okay," I say softly, looking down at my hands in my lap. He smiled. "It's a plan then. I'll come by your apartment around eleven a.m.. It's a good chance to show you Staten Island, the view of Manhattan is absolutely gorgeous there." 

"I'm ready to go home," I told him. He just watched me for a moment, confused, like something might be wrong. "Rose?" 

"I'm just tired. I had a long flight today. I'm tired," I repeated. "I'm tired" might become my excuse for everything. "Okay," he said, giving up. He stood, took out a few dollar bills and placed them under the salt shaker, then turned to go to the counter to pay for the meal. I reached into my purse to find my wallet, but Logan waved me off. 

"Stop it, Rose. I got it," he said, smirking at me for a moment. He paid the bill and slipped on his coat, walking away towards the door with me in tow. "You can pay for our next restaurant out. I promise it won't be expensive," he said, smiling at me. It was getting later now, and it being a Friday night, there were people every where. Headed towards Inland Manhattan for a night of partying and drinking. Logan walked around them fearlessly, walking through the streets without so much of a glance either way. I followed close behind him. His hand found mine once we walked through a particularly thick patch of people. 

I was glad he was just conscious enough to make sure I was still with him. 

When I got home, said goodbye to Logan, I collapsed in my new bed. These were the same sheets on my bed in my old apartment in LA, they still smelt like me. I held my cat plush under my arms and curled up around it. This room is tiny and cold, but it's home. 

Even if this isn't ideal, it's not LA. It's not near Elena or Colby or the memories of my father. "I'm okay here," I whispered to myself. 

Even if this isn't ideal, there's no where else I'd rather be.