Sequel: Just Can't Let You Go ›
Status: Completed
One More Weekend
Shane
I looked up at Logan, my entire body aching. I grimaced as I tried to sit up, but I felt hands on my shoulders making me stay down. "Don't move, just relax. Tell me who did this to you, Shane." I looked up at Logan, a mix between panic and worry was spread across his face.
"H-Her dad. I got to Lauren's -- I can't be with her anymore, you see -- and her father went into a mad rage and fists started flying," I said, looking up at the ceiling. "I remember distinctly hearing her say, 'This is what you deserve.' I don't know if she knows what happened at the party or not, but I can't see why she would have her father abuse me like this ... when I've been nothing but utmost respectful towards him and her entire family."
As I spoke, Logan's finger's moved strands of hair from my face. His touch was soothing, making the pain in my chest ease a lot. I looked up at him, his brown-eyed gaze grazing over my arms and chest -- bother of which were bare. "These bruises are horrible," I heard him whisper, his gaze moving up to my face. "Are you going to school Monday?" he asked, playing with the hem of his shirt unconsciously.
"I have to. You heard what I told your aunt. I get anything lower than a B in any class, I'm in some deep shit," I said, the pain in my stomach hurting like hell. "By the way," I said through gritted teeth, "your notes are in my car. I don't really need them." Logan nodded, gingerly brushing his fingertips over some of the bruises.
Time Elapse
Come Monday, most of my bruises had disappeared. I walked in the school, Logan at my side as we talked about our interests. "I'm a musician, mostly. I really love playing the acoustic guitar and the occasional piano. I seem to write songs in my head, then when the band gets together, we add music to it." Logan seemed rather interested in what I was saying, he almost hadn't realized I had stopped talking.
Clearing his throat he said, "I think it's great you find peace in that. Music can be a real soothing thing." I nodded, looking around the area of the school in which we were in. We were near the music department. "I would like to hear you play sometime," Logan said, grinning up at me.
"Well, I did have a song I was going to sing for -- her -- next month that I had just come up with, but I am thinking about tossing it aside seeing how I can't actually sing it without feeling pain all over -- emotional and physical." Logan bumped me lightly with a smile playing on his lips.
"You can make it about me," he said, glancing up at me with an embarrassed look in his eyes. I grinned at him, thinking I might just do that.
Wait, I am a straight 17-year-old, I thought, my mind spinning so fast.
My mind seemed to respond to that. Not anymore. You know you have feelings for Logan; you just don't want them to show. Think of how your parents would react to find out that their oldest, brightest son is gay.
As I internally argued with the logic in my head, I said goodbye to Logan, but not before I squeezed his hand lightly and heading off to my first period.
"H-Her dad. I got to Lauren's -- I can't be with her anymore, you see -- and her father went into a mad rage and fists started flying," I said, looking up at the ceiling. "I remember distinctly hearing her say, 'This is what you deserve.' I don't know if she knows what happened at the party or not, but I can't see why she would have her father abuse me like this ... when I've been nothing but utmost respectful towards him and her entire family."
As I spoke, Logan's finger's moved strands of hair from my face. His touch was soothing, making the pain in my chest ease a lot. I looked up at him, his brown-eyed gaze grazing over my arms and chest -- bother of which were bare. "These bruises are horrible," I heard him whisper, his gaze moving up to my face. "Are you going to school Monday?" he asked, playing with the hem of his shirt unconsciously.
"I have to. You heard what I told your aunt. I get anything lower than a B in any class, I'm in some deep shit," I said, the pain in my stomach hurting like hell. "By the way," I said through gritted teeth, "your notes are in my car. I don't really need them." Logan nodded, gingerly brushing his fingertips over some of the bruises.
Time Elapse
Come Monday, most of my bruises had disappeared. I walked in the school, Logan at my side as we talked about our interests. "I'm a musician, mostly. I really love playing the acoustic guitar and the occasional piano. I seem to write songs in my head, then when the band gets together, we add music to it." Logan seemed rather interested in what I was saying, he almost hadn't realized I had stopped talking.
Clearing his throat he said, "I think it's great you find peace in that. Music can be a real soothing thing." I nodded, looking around the area of the school in which we were in. We were near the music department. "I would like to hear you play sometime," Logan said, grinning up at me.
"Well, I did have a song I was going to sing for -- her -- next month that I had just come up with, but I am thinking about tossing it aside seeing how I can't actually sing it without feeling pain all over -- emotional and physical." Logan bumped me lightly with a smile playing on his lips.
"You can make it about me," he said, glancing up at me with an embarrassed look in his eyes. I grinned at him, thinking I might just do that.
Wait, I am a straight 17-year-old, I thought, my mind spinning so fast.
My mind seemed to respond to that. Not anymore. You know you have feelings for Logan; you just don't want them to show. Think of how your parents would react to find out that their oldest, brightest son is gay.
As I internally argued with the logic in my head, I said goodbye to Logan, but not before I squeezed his hand lightly and heading off to my first period.