Page 62 of Paint Eater
Jay dropped his bag and let his mom cradle him, crying into her shoulder.
All he could think was—who would Logan have whenhegot home?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LOGAN
Logan arrived home feeling as if someone had gone at his insides with an ice-cream scooper. He couldn’t feel anything, a thin thread between him and his thoughts.
“Logan?”
He closed his eyes, bracing himself, before leaving his bag in his room and going into the living room where his parents were.
“You look tired, darling. Rough trip?” his mom said.
“It was okay.”
“How was it?”
Logan struggled to think about something related to the work experience—he knew that was what his mom was asking about—but couldn’t think of anything besides Jay, Jay, Jay.
“It was good. Learnt a lot. Good to learn the dynamics of an office, and my manager was helpful.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m glad. Do you want some dinner?”
“I’m not hungry.”
His mom frowned slightly. “Well, I won’t keep you. Don’t forget you have college tomorrow, bright and early.”
“Yeah.”
Logan left, having nothing more to say, lacking the energy to fake anything else.
He shut the door of his room behind him, leaning against it as he let himself, just for a moment, feel the lonely ache inside.
**********
“Really, Logan?”
Logan blinked blearily, wincing at the light that suddenly flooded his room. “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, exactly, what the fuck? You haven’t answered your phone in days.” Nisha rounded his bed, standing where he could see her, arms crossed and looking singularly unimpressed.
Logan closed his eyes and burrowed back into the sheets. “Fuck off.”
Logan heard Nisha take a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “Logan. I say this with all the kindness in my heart.”
Logan snorted.
“But you need to get out of this damn bed.”
“That reallywaskind. Thanks, Nisha. And I’m fine. Are naps illegal now?” Logan bit out, although the effect might have been dampened by the muffling cocoon of his sheets.
“It’s seven pm, Logan.” Another deep breath. “Come on. Get up, okay? I’ll make you tea.”
“Do you even know how to make tea?”
“I’m Indian, you idiot. Iowntea. You better be out of this bed by the time I return.”
