Pain

The First Afternoon

Camille

The house is very different from what I imagined. It looks ... expensive. I'm surprised that a guy like Logan lives in a house like this. Yeah, I know prejudice is stupid. Still ... I wasn't prepared for that. I slowly approach the front door and ring the doorbell. I'm nervous ... this is new. Logan opens the door. He's wearing his usual - hot - black t-shirt and dark jeans. But no sunglasses. His eye looks better.

"Hi."

He doesn't answer me, but looks at me for a moment. Then he turns around and waves me inside. "Come in."

The inside of the house gives exactly the same impression as the outside. Expensive furniture and elegant colors on the walls. Logan leads me into the living room, which disappoints me a little. I would have loved to see his room. On the other hand ... Logan is known for not waiting long for girls and the fact that he doesn't take me to his room shows that he's not as bad as everyone says ... right?

"Do you want to drink something?"

"Um ..." I hesitate for a moment, and he rolls his eyes in annoyance. "I won't poison you. Coke?"

I nod and as he goes into the kitchen to get the beverages, I feel totally stupid. I wish I could think of anything interesting or cool to say, but all that comes out is, "Your eye looks better."

He nods and hands me a bottle. "Yes, my sister helped me."

"Does she do that often?"

All of a sudden, his mood changes. He looks at me angrily. "What does this mean? That I'm such a loser that I can't even take care of my own injuries?"

"No," I try to appease him, "I just wanted to know if you were close. I have two brothers. So I know that having siblings is not always easy."

His expression is unfathomable but then he sighs deeply. "Sorry, I … yes, we're very close. She is the only person who really understands me."

"What about your dad?"

He ignores my question, sits down in an armchair across from me, takes a few sips of his coke and looks at me challengingly. Okay, got it. He doesn't want to talk about it. Maybe it would be better if we just concentrate on our project. "So ... Miss Collins said everyone should make a list of suggestions ... do you have one?"

He shakes his head. "No, I don't have a list."

"Okay, no problem." I get my list out of my bag and put it on the table that stands between us. "Well, we could-"

He leans forward and puts his hand on the list. I swallow and feel a strong urge to touch his hand. He smirks slightly. If he keeps looking at me like that, I'm absolutely sure that I will not survive this day.

"You didn't let me finish. Just because I don't have a list of fifty topics doesn't mean I don't have a suggestion."

"I ... I don't have fifty topics."

His smile widens a bit. "Really? How many are there?"

"I didn't count them. I-"

His smile drives me crazy. I give up. "Twenty-five," I mutter meekly. He laughs softly. God, his laugh is ... angelic. I know Logan's not the kind of guy you would call an "angel", but his laugh ... it's to die for. I clear my throat. "So ... what's your suggestion?"

"Alcohol."

Oh, Logan …

"I don't think Miss Collins would be okay with that."

His smile disappears from his face. No, please not. Instead, a mixture of anger and sadness settles on his face. "You're just like the others, aren't you?" He says quietly, pulls his hand away and stands up. "Yes, I drink alcohol but not for fun. I drink because ... Anyway, I know the limits and the consequences. But others don't. Do you really think it's a bad idea to show such people what can happen? Okay, then we'll just take one of your ideas instead." He sits down again and crosses his arms. I'm speechless. I've never heard him talk like that before. But a part of me is also curious. If he doesn't drink for fun, why then? What is the real reason? But I'm sure that he won't give me an answer. At least not today.

"Logan, I didn't mean to offend you. You are right. This is a very good idea. I'm sorry."

He sighs. "It's okay."

Silence spreads. I think it's enough for today. I get up. "I'll email Miss Collins."

He nods.

"See you," I say and want to go to the door, but then he says, "Wait."

He takes the list out of my hand, turns it over and writes something on the back. Then he gives it back to me and suddenly there is a hint of a smile on his face again. "Bye."

After walking for a few minutes, I pause to see what Logan wrote on the back of the list:

I never give girls my number ... but you are lucky. See you next time, project partner.

L.

(Phone number)