Fourteen
January woke feeling better than she had in a very long time. That was, until that old familiar sense of dread settled over her. Her time in this fantasy was nearing the end, and she’d have to get back to reality soon. “More like head to the executioner.” She cursed aloud, dragging the pillow over her face to scream into. But as she drew in a deep breath, ready to scream like a champ, the scent of Logan filled her lungs.
Normally that smell did things to her she couldn’t explain, but at the moment, it just added to her misery. She was going to have to leave this place…leave him. As much as she wished things could be different, they weren’t. She was a Thorne through-and-through. January Snow Thorne would do her daughterly duty to the monsters who called themselves her parents, and in ten years, when she walked away, she’d pretty much burn the place to the ground.
If she were a dreamer, she would imagine reuniting with Logan just a short decade from now. They could be together, unmistakably so, not just a late night secret.
But she wasn’t a dreamer, not anymore. Augusta was the dreamer of the family now, and January made a commitment to not rob her of that with the ugly truth.
Reaching for the lamp on the nightstand, January’s fingers encountered something familiar and something foreign. She turned on the light and focused on the items there on the scarred wood.
The ring she hadn’t been able to find was resting on top of a folded piece of paper. After sliding the ring on, she unfolded the paper. There in pencil was an elementary check-box note. I like you, do you like me? Check one. There were two crudely drawn boxes with YES and NO below the question. Followed by a heart and the scrawled signature of Logan.
January couldn’t help herself from laughing out loud and tearing up at the same time.
“He remembered.” She held the note to her chest like it was the most precious of documents, and it was. One of the first stories she shared with Logan about herself was how awkward she was growing up and that no boy had ever given her a love note. Not even a silly do you like me one.
Logan had so much more heart than he gave himself credit for. He really was a good person.
Even though today was a bare minimum kind of day, that note put a spring in her step and a smile on her face. January brushed her teeth, her hair, and put on clean underwear; that was it. She had no desire to be all done up for the last hours she had with Logan. He loved the over the top Domino when she was on stage, but he preferred January just as she was when they spent time together. She couldn’t argue with him; she preferred herself that way, too. After brushing her hair, she tied it up in a messy half-ponytail, half-bun, half-down—wait, that’s three halves—look. Her mother would shit a fucking brick if she saw her at a gathering with her hair like that.
Enough about her mother, leaving, and standards she could never live up to. No one except Augusta knew she would be leaving Sunday night, and she was bound to secrecy by the sister code. She wasn’t happy about it; she had made that perfectly clear, however, Gus was a speak your mind kind of gal and then let it go.
Even her parents didn’t know. January had successfully averted the answer for weeks, then the last few, she didn’t even bother texting or calling back. Speaking to her mother right now was a mouthful of glass she’d have to swallow, which she preferred to delay as long as she could.
Deciding to focus on things other than swallowing glass and talking to her mother, January took a deep, cleansing breath and went in search of the action.
Half of the Reid clan had arrived and were milling about the kitchen and back patio. Francis, Gus, and Erika were busying themselves in the kitchen. Not that much was left to do; it was more of the way they did things that had them preparing, reheating, and rearranging food.
Francis caught sight of her first. “How’s the wrist, sweetheart?” January held her ace-wrapped wrist up for inspection, flexing it to drive home her point. She’d ditched the rigid brace.
“Good as new. Almost as if it never even happened.” Dropping her hand, January strolled into the kitchen and snagged a carrot from the salad. Between crunches, she added, “See, I told you I didn’t need to go to the ER. I just needed a muscle relaxer and a wrap.”
Francis turned, grabbed January by her biceps, and pressed a kiss into her cheek. “Always better safe than sorry with my girls.” Francis’ inclusion of her as one of hers had barely settled in her brain when Erika piped up.
“Ha. We’ve gotten the “Mom” treatment for years. It’s your turn. Besides, I won ten bucks.”
With feigned outrage, January adopted a saucy stance. “How could you bet on my physical well-being?” Of course, she knew there was a betting pool. They had them on everything. She really didn’t mind. It was kind of endearing, and she was even in a few.
Gus and Erika laughed it up as they each grabbed a dish of food and headed toward the back. As soon as they were out of earshot, Francis commanded her attention. Even at a whisper, the woman was comforting and intimidating at the same time.
“January, have you decided what you’re going to do yet? That boy out there deserves this, and shoot, honey, so do you, but you’re both so twisted up, y’all are about to lose that opportunity.”
Francis’ words caused her head to snap toward the slider. There he was, the man who made her heart flutter and soaked her boy-shorts. January’s disappointment had almost crushed her when she didn’t see him milling about with the rest of the Reids at first, but instead, he was simply outside chatting up Michael and Tori.
Francis was still talking about young love and missed opportunities when January noted how Walker and Frank were eyeballing them but purposefully not getting involved the conversation. Almost like…
Gasping, she slapped her hands over her mouth.
“What in the world has gotten into you?” Francis followed her line of sight.
January felt the weight of Francis’ stare. When she averted her attention from Logan, the smirk on the older lady’s face threw her for a loop. To eliminate any doubt that Francis’ mojo was real, she spoke.
“So, did you figure it out on your own or did that dear, sweet boy tell you?”
January was dumbfounded. “How do you…I mean, did he—”
“Hush child, of course he didn’t say anything to me, but just have a look at ‘em. Anyone the great Lord gave two working eyes to can see it. That is, except that clueless duo out there.” Nodding toward Michael and Tori wasn’t needed for January to know exactly who the duo was.