Page 70 of Becoming Selfish

“I guess I’m the exception to the rule.” She casually takes a sip of her latte as she continues to avoid the question.

“Well, that’s not very helpful. What am I going to write about then?”

“I don’t know. I doubt Kenny will even read our papers. You can just make something up,” she suggests, keeping her eyes averted from mine.

“Logan, are you avoiding the question?” I playfully ask.

“No,” she answers much too quickly.

“You are.”

“I’m not, I just haven’t felt passionate about something in a long time.”

“Okay. Well, then what is something that you used to feel passionate about?” I just want to get to know this girl, but man, is she making it difficult.

She waits for a moment, deciding if she’s going to appease my prying, then tells me, “I guess if I had to choose something, I would say that I was once passionate about playing basketball. But that’s not really the case anymore.”

“Well, that’s cool. Were you any good?”

“I was a high school all-American and had a full ride to play for the University of Oregon,” she casually replies.

I did not expect that. When I asked if Logan was any good, I didn’t really care either way. I just wanted to keep the conversation going. But now that I know she was a total badass, I just find her that much more attractive.

“What? How did I not know this about you?”

“No one knows. Not even Marc.”

“You’re telling me that I know something about you that Marc doesn’t?” I ask with my eyes wide. I’m about to get so fucking smug if I know something about this girl that my brother doesn’t.

“You should feel honored.”

“Oh, I do!” I tell her with way too much enthusiasm. “So, you played for Oregon, how was that?” Does she not realize how hot it is that she was a division one athlete? I know firsthand, the dedication that it takes.

“I didn’t end up going there,” she tells me, cutting off my thoughts. She pulls her gaze from mine, keeping her head down. “When my dad died in my senior year of high school, my life at home got pretty hectic, and I had to give up my scholarship. Instead, I stayed home and attended the local state school.”

“Why?” I quickly ask.

“It’s a long story.” She shakes her head, obviously not wanting to divulge.

“Okay.” Shit. I don’t want to upset her. We’ve been having such a good conversation, and I don’t want it to end because I ask the wrong questions.

“Do you miss playing?” I ask carefully.

“Sometimes, yeah. But it’s been a while since I’ve even touched a basketball. My dad was my coach growing up, so sometimes the memories tied to playing make me think of him, which can be hard.” She looks up into my eyes, seeming to feel more comfortable about opening up to me.

“How is your mom doing without him being around?” I ask, pressing my luck. She’s never mentioned anything about the rest of her family, so I’m hoping this is my opportunity to find out, but her expression goes blank. I clearly struck a nerve.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.” I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Her frozen expression softens, trying to ease my regret for asking. “Um...actually, my mom passed away last December.” She holds my gaze, attempting to gauge my reaction.

Suddenly it’s like all the pieces of the puzzle are beginning to fit together. Everything that Marc had told me about Logan having a rough few years. Her wisdom and ability to understand what I was dealing with when my birth father passed. Her independence. She’s already lived through more life, and loss, than someone should have to deal with, especially at our age.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought anything up. I didn’t mean for you to have to tell me.”

“That’s okay. You obviously didn’t know.” She gives me a slight smile as if she’s trying to make me feel better when I should be the one comforting her.

“Were you guys close?”

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