Page 17 of You Were Mine

“I’ll move the date with Brandon.”

“Moving the date won’t change anything,” Logan says, his eyes fixed firmly on the TV.

I stare at him and try to figure out what he means. If moving the date won’t help, he’s not mad about Halloween. What can he possibly be upset about, though? That’s literally the only thing going on in my life right now.

“Then, you admit there’s something wrong, and it has something to do with me,” I say. “What is it?”

Slowly, Logan lowers the remote and turns to look at me. Now,allhis energy looks drained. He looks nervous, and I legitimatelycan’t remember an instance when Logan haseverbeen nervous. That worries me more than anything.

“What is it?” I repeat. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know that. The problem is that I’m not sure how you might receive what I want to tell you,” Logan says, “And the timing issobad.”

My mind immediately assumes the worst. He’s throwing me out or moving away. He’s been diagnosed with some incurable disease. He’s going to jail for insurance fraud. I have no idea what this means.

“Whatever it is, if you tell me, I can help you figure it out,” I say. “Come on. It’s clearly bothering you, so just let it out.”

“I hate Brandon’s guts.”

What? I laugh, more from nerves than anything else, but when Logan looks at me, his eyes hot and dark, I realize he’s serious. I freeze, my heart pounding rapidly in my chest, as the revelation sinks in. I grapple with the realization.

“Why would you hate Brandon? He’s a great guy,” I reply.

Logan takes a deep breath. “Because I love you,” he says, “And you likehim. And I’m so jealous that I can’t take it.”

Of fucking course. I roll my eyes. “That’s hilarious,” I say. “Very funny.”

“No, I’m being serious,” Logan says. “Iloveyou. I…really…love…you. And I’m jealous of fucking Brandon, okay?”

Logan loves me!

The words circle through my head and whirl around, but they don’t seem to gain any grasp. I’ve heard the words. Iknowthe words. Somehow, though, I don’t understand them whenhesays them. They’ve become something else, and I don’t know what to do. Or what to say.

“How long?” I finally asked.

Logan shrugs and toys with the remote in his hand. “I don’t know. A while. I haven’t exactly kept track of the days or anything like that. I thought about telling you, but I just... howdoyou feel about this?”

I am screaming internally, but I don’t even know why. Mostly, I’ve settled into some strange place between numbness and shock. “We’re still friends,” I finally say. “I just... I don’t know. I just met Brandon again, and he’s really great. And—”

“And I don’t blame you if you like him,” Logan says, tossing the remote onto the table. “Brandon seems like a decent guy. He’s certainly good enough for you, and there’s not many men I’d say that about.”

I’m overwhelmed with a surge of fondness. I nudge my shoulder against Logan’s. “Thank you,” I say.

“Yeah, well. It’s not me beingthatgreat,” Logan replies. “It’s not your fault—or Brandon’s fault—that I’ve had a crush on you for a while.”

No, but it can’t be easy to deal with.

And the strange thing is that the almost numb feeling is fading, and it’s being replaced with something else. It dawns on me all at once that I have no idea how to take Logan’s declaration of love. “I love you”keeps swirling around my head, and no matter how hard I try to think about it, I simply can’t figure out how I feel; much less how I feel about Brandon, or what to do about him.

In the days following his love confession, Logan seemed to fall back into his usual self; energetic, but not the same familiar nervous energy. I keep conversations and dates with Brandon to an absolute minimum, and Logan and I carefully avoid discussing who loves whom. Once or twice, I catch Loganlooking thoughtfully at me, and I wonder if he wants to discuss how his admission changes things between us. He probably does. I think I would want to.

Two weeks before the gala, I walk along the sidewalk and down to Brandon’s favorite coffeehouse. I should be working on my thesis, but Brandon called. Trust me, answering Brandon’s invitation to come out is far more exciting than staring at the same paper I’ve been staring at now for the last semester.

Brandon, already with our drinks, sits in our usual spot. “Hey,” he says, as I take the seat next to him.

I think of Logan.

“Hey,” I say. “How’s your day going?”

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