More Than Her

I let out all the air in my lungs, "I didn't call you because I thought I was in love with Mikayla."

"What?" she squeaked out, sitting up a little.

I swallowed. My heart thud against my chest. This could make or break us.

I knew I could lose her forever.

I shifted and lay on my back. My arm covered my eyes. I couldn't watch her face when I told her the reason why she had to experience all that pain. All the pain I caused.

So I told her.

I told her about ru

She stayed quiet, even when I was done speaking. I was shit scared to face her, so for minutes, we just sat there, silence filling our own little bubble.

Then she cleared her throat.

I finally moved my arm and opened one eye to look at her.

She was watching me.

I turned to my side and faced her again. "I'm sorry, Amanda."

She faced the roof. "Ethan was hit by a car." She spoke so quietly, I almost didn't hear her. "Actually, he pushed me out of the way, and got hit by a car. We were twelve. I was stupid. I didn't even look. It was raining. Just like this." Her voice was strained. She sniffed once. "That's why I'm scared of the rain. Everyone has their reasons. It may seem stupid, Logan, but to me, it's enough." Her eyes lifted to meet mine. "Do you still have feelings for her?"

I stupidly nodded.

Her face changed.

"Not like that," I said quickly. "Not in that way. I never did, Amanda. I was just stupid, and confused. But no—I never had those types of feelings for her."

A huge gust of wind caused the car to shake. She reached her hand out to grip my arm. Her eyes snapped shut. "Come here," I said, helping her move until her body was on top of mine, my arms around her. Exactly where she belonged.

Another gust of wind.

She tensed.

I held her tighter.

A pained sound escaped her.

"Am I hurting you?" I stroked her hair.

"No," she said into my chest. "You're healing me."

***

I could feel my heart thumping against my chest. She must've felt it too, because she raised her head to meet my eyes, "Your heart is going a million miles."

"Mm," I hummed in agreement. My eyes were closed. My breath was shaky. I placed a hand on the back of her head, trying to get her to resume her position.

She resisted. "Logan?" she tried to get my attention.

I glanced down at her.

"What's going on?"

I watched her—her eyes carried an intensity I'd never seen before. Truth time. "I'm nervous," I said flatly.

"Why?" She had a puzzled scowl.

"You make me nervous."

She laughed once. "How do I make you nervous?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I'm afraid that it's not enough. That what I've said and what I've done, and what I'm doing right now isn't enough. That you won't forgive me and you won't want to be with me. And you do this thing—where you shut yourself off and you don't talk to me—or anyone—for hours, or days, and I have no idea how you're feeling or what you're thinking. So yeah—I'm nervous as all hell that this is the last time I'll get to hold you. I’m afraid that we'll never be as close as we were. I'm scared that you'll want nothing at all to do with me."

She let out a long drawn out breath, her eyes glued to mine.

I waited.

Then she sighed, her forehead falling onto my chest.

"I'm sorry," she said. "You're right. It’s not enough. Not anymore."

***

I held her as the rain beat down on the car.

I held her tighter as it got worse.

I let go of her when it cleared.

And then I drove her home.

All while not saying a Goddamn word—because really—what was there left to say?

She said she couldn't be with me.

***

I'd been driving around for four hours. That's how long ago I left Jake's house. Nathan was right, what he had to tell me wasn't time sensitive. Not at all. In fact I could have waited another twenty years to hear it.

Without realizing, I found myself sitting in her driveway.

I knew I shouldn't be here. I knew that she was done with me. With us.

A woman, I assume her mom, eventually answered the door. She wore a dressing gown over her pajamas, ru

Then a slow smirk pulled on the corner of her lips. "Dimmy!" she shouted, directing her voice up the staircase. "Lucas is here."

"Uh, it's Logan actually," I tried to tell her, but she'd already moved to the bottom of the stairs. "Dimmy!" she yelled again.

I heard a door open and then heavy footsteps. I stood outside and waited.

Her mom glanced at me quickly, then back up the staircase. "Does he know what time it is?" she whispered loudly.

I didn't. I had no fucking clue what time it was. Shit.

I saw her legs first, completely bare, before I saw the rest of her. She was wearing a basketball jersey, and her glasses. Her step faltered when she saw me, but she recovered quickly.

"Hey," she said confused. Her hand came up in a small wave. She pulled the hem of her jersey down a little. "What's going on?"

I was about to speak but her mom beat me to it. "Lucas," she said, "would you like something to drink"

I rubbed my hand against my jaw, "Uh, it's Logan, actually."

"I'm fucking with you kid." Her and Amanda laughed. "I know who you are."

I'd be laughing too if I my head wasn't consumed with other thoughts. "Um, I'm okay, ma'am. Thank you." I hurriedly took off my cap before continuing. "If it's okay with you, I just need to speak to Amanda real quick. I promise I won't stay late."

She smiled at me. It was different from the smirk she gave me when I showed up. "Huh." She looked me up and down. " You're just like your father," she said.

Only I'm not. Not at all.

She left us alone and walked into what I assumed was the living room.

Amanda took a few steps forward, eyeing me as she did. "You okay?"

I swallowed. "No. Not really."

She nodded once, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs.

She let go of my hand and closed the door quietly, then paused, looking around her room awkwardly.

"Um, have a seat, I guess." She jerked her head towards the bed.

I didn't move.

She stood, leaning her back against the door, her hands behind her.

I tried to smile, but I knew it didn't follow through.

"So...what's going on, Logan?"

Amanda

"What are you doing here?" I had my back against the door, facing him.

He stood up and looked around my room, his hands in his pocket. His hair all over the place from combing his fingers through it. His eyes lingered on my bed longer than they should.

"Logan?" I tried to get his attention, but his mind was somewhere else.