Page 62 of Dating and Dragons

Quinn:I remember no cow poop. Only her long eyelashes

Logan:Come back over and I’ll give you a better tour of the farm

I snort-laugh. I want to launch into all my worries, but it’s bad timing if he’s with his parents. I stop pacing to text him back.

Quinn:Have fun watching tv

Logan:Are you ok? You sound off

Quinn:You can’t hear me

Logan:I don’t need to hear you. Your texts are different

My stomach flutters. He knows that?

Quinn:Just thinking about the comic fest again

I immediately realize how that must sound—that I’m thinking about him and me at the comic fest. Which I absolutely have been, particularly right before I fall asleep each night, but I don’t want to give the wrong impression.

Quinn:About running into Paige there, I mean

Logan:Hold on

I frown and sink onto my bed, staring at my phone in the hopes of making more texts come. A minute later they do.

Logan:I told my parents I had to go to the bathroom. Mom was giving me serious side-eye for texting. What happened with all of that? You never really told me

Quinn:You mean at the comic store?

Logan:I mean all of it

A tingle runs up my spine. I take a breath and then my fingers start flying over the keys. My usual short texts are replaced by paragraphs as I tell him the whole story, both what happened before with Caden and my run-in with Paige. I don’t give every single detail, but enough for him to get the full picture. Logan doesn’t reply immediately—which is fair since there’s a lot to process—but it only makes me clutch my phone tighter with nerves. Hopefully I didn’t overwhelmhim.

Logan:Give me their addresses and I’ll go have a word with them

I laugh and lean against my headboard.

Quinn:Thanks but that’s probably a bad idea

Logan:They should have thought about that before messing with you. It’s so shitty, Quinn. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of this

Quinn:I don’t want to spend my life avoiding them or being scared of them

Logan:I want to talk more but if I spend too long in the bathroom my mom is going to think I have food poisoning

I laugh again.

Quinn:No prob, I’ll text tomorrow

Logan:Come by the store. I picked up a Friday shift and I take my break at 5—tell your parents you’re getting your grandma sherbet.

There’s no denying the jittery excitement that floods me at the idea. I also can’t deny the worries that pop into my head about whether it would cross some invisible friendship line if I meet him after school. But it’s only ice cream, and it’s not like we’ll have much time together—fifteen minutes at the most.

Quinn:ok, I’ll be there

The hours on Friday can’t pass quick enough. When I finally open the door to the ice cream parlor and see Logan’s smile, I relax.

“Taking my break,” Logan calls to someone I can’t see, and comes out from behind holding two dishes of ice cream. We sit in the far corner, not that we’re hidden away given how small the space is, and I smile down at my Buckeye ice cream.

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