Page 116 of In Spades

“There aren’t many things that I have to do,” I said. “I just do what I want.”

He cut his eyes at me, then looked back at the water. A smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. “That guitar’s real nice.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, she plays real nice, too.”

“It’s yours?”

I nodded.

“You know how to play?”

I shrugged. “Used to play in college. It helped with the stress. I haven’t played in a while, but I figured you might like to give it a go.” With a grin, I added, “It helped me pick up girls. That’s why I learned how to play.”

Logan snorted in disbelief. “My sister says you look like Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds put together. Even I know that’s not a bad thing. No way you had trouble picking up girls.”

“Maybe not now, but back then? I was a lanky computer nerd with zero social skills. My body hadn’t filled out. I had the metabolism of a hummingbird. My height just made me look skinny as hell. Being a six-foot-four computer geek in baggy clothes didn’t make me much of a catch.”

I caught him trying not to laugh.

“I went to college on an academic scholarship, so I busted my ass to keep my grades up. I practically lived in the library and never set foot in a gym. On top of that, I got friend-zoned by every girl I liked. Literally all of them.” I cracked a smile. “It was brutal.”

Logan laughed and shook his head as he watched a crisp white sailboat cruise up the Neuse River.

“So, I started leaving my dorm room a little more. Started working out and put on a little weight. I saved up and got the guitar that’s sitting in your room. Music is math and art put together, so it made sense in my head. I taught myself how to play. The ladies, uh, they quite liked it.”

With a smirk, Logan quipped, “So, you’re saying we should change ourselves to make other people like us.”

I snorted. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Never be true to yourself. All those Disney movies telling you otherwise are just setting you up for failure.”

Logan grinned. “Very inspirational. You should write a children’s book.”

“Agreed,” I said, laughing as I clapped him on the shoulder. “No, that’s not what I meant, smart ass. I’m just saying it’s okay to look in the mirror and not like what you see. I didn’t make changes for the approval of others. I saw potential in myself that I wasn’t living up to and decided to get out of my own way. Sometimes circumstances limit the choices available to us, but that doesn’t mean we have to let them make our decisions for us. No one ever wandered into being a better version of themselves. You have to take control of your life instead of being a bystander in your own story.”

Logan nodded, but remained quiet. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Think you could teach me how to play? Guitar, I mean.”

“Yeah, man. I’d love to.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes as boats floated by. The weather was crisp and the current was smooth—a perfect day for sailing. Leaves rustled overhead as the wind whipped off the water.

“Must suck to have to leave this place and come to our house,” Logan muttered as he stretched his legs out.

“Nah.” I mimicked his posture. “I like going to y’all’s place.”

“Kristin hates when people come over,” he said, glancing at me. “Well, except you. I just mean she hates it when Miss Hannah Jane or Steve and Chase come by. I know it’s because we live in a trailer.”

“I grew up in a trailer.” I cut my eyes over at him. “There’s no shame in it. Good people live in all types of homes.”

Logan was quiet, so I took the chance and changed the subject—one I knew Kristin had been bugging him about.

“You ready to graduate?” I asked.

Logan scoffed. “They ain’t gonna let me graduate. I’ll probably just drop out.”

A flare of anger pulsed through my veins. He didn’t sound lazy. He sounded defeated. “Why?”

Logan shrugged. “I hate school. I’m not good at it. My teachers suck and my grades suck.”

“What are your plans after June, then?”

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