Page 50 of Revenge Cake

Incomprehension gripping me, I stare at him for several seconds. He has that faint side-smile. Suddenly, I’m overcome with relief. So overwhelmed I can’t even gauge its source, but I feel almost lightheaded with it. Laughter bubbles from my chest.

Logan’s smile grows. “Would you like me to list some people I’d rather hang out with than you when you have a panic attack?”

When I nod eagerly, his eyes flash in delight. He gestures a one. “Lord Voldemort.”

“Naturally.”

“Right. It should go without saying. Another would be the little girl from The Exorcist… And now that I think of it, she kind of reminds me of you when you have a panic attack. Except, you know, a lot more fun.”

I choke out a laugh at the apt comparison. Panic attacks often feel like a demonic possession.

He lifts his hand again to gesture a three. “Thanos.”

I draw a blank. I stare at him as I search my brain for whatever stupid super-villain he thinks I should understand implicitly, as if superhero lore is a national religion.

“Thanos!” he shouts, his dark brows drawn together. “From the last two Avengers movies.”

“All of those movies are the same to me.”

“Oh my god. I don’t believe this. You had a whole fucking theory about Thanos after we watched Infinity War. And you said it in your whole Leilani way too, like, ‘Even though I’ve never seen these movies before, I’m right because I’m Leilani and I know everything,’ and now you can’t even remember who Thanos is! You’re so full of shit, Girard. I’m never going to believe anything you say ever again.”

I purse my lips, fighting my smile.

“Don’t laugh, you asshole! The Avengers are some of the most important movies of the twenty-first century, if not the most.”

I nod solemnly, though I can’t hide my smile.

“They are!”

I straighten my posture, meeting his eyes squarely. “I refuse to accept your cartoon books as sacred texts just because you rule the world.”

“I don’t even know what the fuck that means.” When my smile returns, he glares at me. “You’re a dick.”

“I’m sorry to break your heart.”

“You stomped all over my heart!”

I cover my face, my shoulders shaking from laughter at his genuine distress. I’m still almost hysterical with relief, but suddenly the source of it dawns on me.

I forgot about my panic attack.

Somehow in the midst of his gentle teasing, he pulled me out of my head. I forgot about my agonizing fear that he’ll leave me. He made me laugh at myself.

I never laugh at myself.

I feel my face contort as tears trickle into my palms in rapid succession. I couldn’t stop them if I tried. Knowing there’s no way to hide it, I remove my hands from my face.

In a flash, Logan’s smiling face transforms into shock. “Hey…” he says gently, stepping closer and reaching out to touch my shoulder. I back away from him, waving him off with a hand.

“What’s wrong?”

I lower my hands, shaking my head jerkily. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking about my past.”

“Tell me about it.” His voice is gentle.

I turn away to stare out at the crashing waves, not wanting to see his face while I embarrass myself. “When I was little, I used to think I was dead. It happened all the time, and usually out of nowhere. I could be on the playground at school or sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, and suddenly I would be convinced that I was dead. I was so certain, my dad would sometimes spend hours trying to convince me otherwise. And he usually wasn’t successful. ‘You can’t be dead if I’m talking to you.’ He’d usually say something like that, but then I’d ask how he knew I wasn’t in a coffin somewhere dreaming that I was alive, and dreaming that he was talking to me. ‘Dead people don’t dream.’ ‘How do you know they don’t dream?’ ‘Your brain stops working when you die.’ ‘How do you know?’ And it would go on and on like that.”

I pause, keeping my eyes fixed on the water, feeling silly and ghoulish.

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