Twenty-Two
Kayla and I have gotten ready for football games at Corrine’s house countless times, but this is the first time there’s been a guy present. My camera is safe in my bag, but it still feels like Logan’s got one pointed at me from his spot at Corrine’s desk, even though he’s barely taken his eyes off her since driving us here from school.
“So, Logan,” Kayla says, sitting on Corrine’s bed across from him and fixing him with a serious look, “what—”
“Nope,” Corrine cuts her off, capping her lipstick. “We’re not doing that.”
Logan winks at Kayla. “We’ll talk later,” he whispers.
“I look forward to it,” she says, starting one of two big, messy braids. “If you’re going to be around Corrine, you must be Friend Approved.”
I look up from Corrine’s vanity mirror and say, “We’re very hard to impress.”
“Leave him alone.” Corrine shoves gently into my shoulderand goes back to applying her eyeliner. “I approve of him and that’s good enough.”
“Actually,” Logan starts, grabbing his backpack from the cream-colored floor. “While your approvalisthe only one that matters, I would like theirs.”
Kayla gives Corrine a “told you so” look.
“But, to help convince them,” Logan says, pulling a clipboard out of his bag, “I have this.”
He hands it to Corrine, and I glance over her shoulder. Not very romantic, but who am I to judge someone else’s love life? Mine is nonexistent.
“What is this?” Corrine asks. The paper attached to the clipboard has twenty or so names written in a column, all in different handwriting.
“People who approve of me dating you.”
Corrine glances between Kayla and me, her cheeks pink, then meets Logan’s gaze. “Are we dating? Officially?”
“I want to. I know you’re used to collecting signatures to start clubs, so I thought I’d collect some to start this relationship. If you want.”
“Oh dear god,” Kayla says through laughter. “I’ve seen some pretty bizarre heterosexual things, but this turned out pretty cute.”
Logan waits, desperation in his brown eyes. Corrine stands only to collapse in his lap, arms tight around his broad shoulders. She plants a kiss on his cheek and says something softly into his ear. It feels too intimate to watch, worse than any sex scene that unexpectedly popped up on TV when my mom or grandma were around.
Kayla turns away from them and says, “I want to see this list. I bet there’s at leastoneBen Dover.”
Corrine snorts against Logan’s neck and stands up, straightening her uniform. He’s blushing just as badly as she is, and it’s sweet, but it leaves a gnawing, hungry hole in my stomach.
“So, uh,” he says with a little laugh. “I look forward to the third degree from you two,” he says to Kayla and me as he stands, gathering his bag. “But I have to get to work.”
“Where do you work again?” Kayla asks, feigning thought. “Not for any specific reason, but what’s the name and address and phone number?”
“She’s joking,” Corrine says, wrapping her arm around his and guiding him to the door.
He says over his shoulder, Corrine still leading him away, “I work at Purrfect Match—”
“The cat adoption café?” Kayla squeals.
“Yeah.”
“No!”
“Yes!” he says imitating her. He pulls at his black T-shirt with a faded graphic of an angelic kitten on it. “Did you think this shirt was ironic?”
“Leave it to Corrine to find a guy with a job that’s as close to volunteer work as possible.” I smile when she winks at me. “Bye, Logan.”
“Have a good game, ladies.” He smiles and disappears down the hallway.