Pain

What Is His Secret?

Camille

It's been a few weeks since I visited Logan at home for the first time. Surprisingly, Miss Collins agreed to our subject – but only after I was able to convince her with some good arguments. And as it turns out, Logan actually takes this project seriously. We are getting along quite well now. He is no longer so cold and dismissive and I have learned to be more relaxed around him. Actually, I've never had a hard time being relaxed with guys, but with Logan everything is different. The proof of this happened a few days ago.

We were on our way to meet a man who leads a group of anonymous alcoholics and who was willing to tell us about his experiences. On the way there, we walked along a hedge that was separated from the sidewalk and the street by a mid-high brick wall. I don't know exactly why, but I suddenly wanted to balance on this wall. And actually this wouldn't be worth mentioning, if there hadn't been the guy on the skateboard. After I had taken a few steps on the wall, this guy suddenly drove past me at such a fast pace that it got me out of balance. I was expecting to fall down and, in the worst case, possibly even suffer minor injuries when suddenly there were two arms that caught me. I looked completely surprised in Logan's face, who looked at me with a slight frown. "Everything okay?"

I nodded and for a moment I just looked into his dark eyes and wished he would hold me forever. But I realized that he was starting to feel uncomfortable, so I slowly straightened up. As soon as I stood on my own two feet again, he let go of me.

"Thank you, Logan."

He shrugged casually. "No problem."

We went on. And even though we pretended that nothing special had happened, I was sure that I would never forget this incident.

But this incident wasn't all that happened that day. We met with the man - who insisted on calling him Nick - in a beachside cafe. Nick told us about his experiences and patiently answered our questions.

"Why are there so many people who have problems with alcohol? What are the triggers for this?"

Nick remained silent for a moment and drank a few sips of his Coke before answering my question, "There are different reasons for this. Sometimes people drink because they have experienced a terrible event that they cannot cope with. People in emergency situations don't reach for the bottle because they think it eliminates their problems. They drink so that they can forget and / or displace their problems. And that happens so often at some point that they can't get away from it. I experience such cases almost every day."

Before I could ask another question, Logan suddenly got up. "I'll be right back," he muttered, and walked away. I looked after him in confusion. Nick also watched him and said quietly, "You should take good care of your friend."

I turned to him again. "Why?"

Nick tilted his head slightly to the side. "I recognize people who have a broken soul. Your friend has problems, big problems. Have you voluntarily chosen this project topic?"

I nodded.

"Was it his idea?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm ... I see." He sank into his thoughts for a moment, then he cleared his throat. "Do you have any other questions?"

I actually had a few more questions, but something told me to check if everything was okay with Logan. Nick's words worried me. I shook my head and started storing my papers in my bag. He handed me a business card. "If you still have questions, just call."

I shook his hand. "Thanks for your time."

He smiled. "You're welcome. I'm always happy when I can help."

It took me a few seconds to find Logan. He stood on the promenade and looked towards the sea.

"Is everything okay?"

He nodded slowly. I would have liked to ask him about his problems, but I knew he wouldn't answer me. As soon as I asked him something personal, he either pretended he hadn't heard me or he quickly changed the subject. I hoped that at some point he would trust me enough to tell me the truth.

Now I sit in Jo's room and tell her about that day. But unlike me, Jo doesn't seem to find this really interesting. She shrugs. "Well, this is nothing new, isn't it? Everyone knows he has problems."

"Yes, I know. I think it's just a pity that he doesn't tell me anything about himself. I mean, if I have to work with him, I can at least get to know him, can I?"

She wants to answer me, but is distracted by a text message. When she reads the text, she has to smile.

"Who is this?"

"Kendall."

I raise my eyebrows. "You two seem to get along very well with each other."

She doesn't answer me. She just keeps smiling and quickly answers the message. Then she says a little more seriously, "You know ... If Logan doesn't want to tell you anything about himself ... then you have to find out for yourself."

"What should I do? Search his room?"

"Well ... if the opportunity arises ... why not?"