"I'm sorry, Lucy." I told her. It was the truth. I fucking hate bullies and anyone that thought it was okay to treat people like shit.

"I know, Logan. I know because you walked up and stood in front of me, shielding me from them. You started yelling at them to give it back. I didn't even know you and you were there. You were big for a freshman. I mean, you've always been big. You were bigger than both those junior boys combined. They gave it back straight away and you handed it to me. You made them apologize to me before they left. Then you made sure I was okay before you just walked away, like what you did wasn't a big deal."

"Huh." I didn't know else to say.

"You don't remember?"

I shrugged. "Sorry, Lucy...I guess I don't."

She smiled. "That night I baked you cookies and left them on your desk in homeroom the next morning."

It began to come back to me—the memory. But I don’t remember that it was Lucy.

She kept talking, "I watched you as you walked into the room and saw them sitting there. This huge smile on your face. You opened them, ate one, and gave the rest to Skinny Pete."

Now I remembered.

"Why did you do that, Logan? Give them to Skinny Pete, I mean?"

I shrugged and turned away from her.

She gripped my upper arm and forced me to face her.

"Why?" she asked again.

"Everyone knows that Skinny Pete's family were poor and he barely ate." I shrugged again.

She laughed once. "I had the biggest crush on you for like, months after that day," she said, shaking her head. "You're not such an asshole, Logan. You're one of the best guys I know. Actually, you're the best guy I know that I'm not screwing." She chuckled to herself. "One day, you're going to meet that girl that's going to make you want to be with them. And she's going to be so Goddamn lucky, I swear it."

I stayed silent. Because the thing is, I think I already have.

Lucy sighed, leaned up on her toes and kissed my cheek. "Quit smoking, Logan. I don't want to lose you, too," she said, before turning to go back inside. I grabbed her arm to stop her and pulled her to me. I held her. She held me back. I don't know how long we stood, holding on to each other, when she finally pulled away and looked up at me.

I kissed her on the top of her head. "It's the last one I'll ever have, swear it."

It was.

FIFTEEN

Logan

I woke up the next morning before everyone else and left Jake and Micky's. I got in my car and drove the short distance to my frat house.

When I got up to my room, all my shit was everywhere.

Clothes were thrown all over the place, my mattress was up against a wall. My computer and stereo system had been smashed to pieces.

What the fuck?

Adam, the president of the house walked into my room.

"You're out," he deadpanned.

"What the fuck?"

"I'm sorry, dude. I like you; you're a good guy. But I don't have any sisters. It's been decided. We had a meeting. You're out."

This had to be a fucking joke. "You're kidding right?" He had to be. "Where the hell am I going to live?"

He shrugged.

Fuck.

It was early enough that the rest of the house was still sleeping. Luckily for me, it wasn't too embarrassing.

Once I was in my car, I just sat there.

Where the fuck was I going to go?

Without me realizing it, I started taking the two-hour drive home.

I needed the stable sanity of my own house at the moment. The events of the last few days had worn me out.

I texted Jake and told him what happened. I asked him to get feelers out, see if anyone knew of anywhere I could live. If anyone had connections, it was Jake Andrews.

By the time I got home, I was beginning to feel the lack of sleep mixed with the hangover and just wanted to crash.

I went into the kitchen where Dad was sitting at the counter, eating. It was rare for him to be home on a weekend.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised.

"Thanks. Nice to see you too," I joked. I got a soda out of the fridge and sat down on the counter with him.

"You look—uh...good?" he said, a smile pulling at his lips.

"I had a rough night."

He nodded.

It was silent for a few minutes.

Then I said, "I need to talk to you-" the same time he said, "We need to talk-"

We both laughed.

"You go first," I told him.

"Have you spoken to Nathan?"

I shrugged. "Kind of. You know what's happening?"

"Your mother's been asking around for you," He eyed me, waiting for my reaction.

"Huh. That's funny. Last I checked I had no mother." I raised my eyebrows at him, waiting for him to push the issue. He wanted me to say something more. But I didn't. I had nothing more to say.

Finally, he nodded once. "So you had something to tell me."

Shit. I played it out in my head—the words I would use to tell him. But now that I was here, I felt like an idiot. So I decide to just say, "I got kicked out of the frat house."

I wanted him to yell. To tell me he was disappointed. Something. Anything. But he didn't. Instead, he just smiled, "Do I want to know why?"

I shook my head.

"So what happens now?"

I blew out a breath, "I guess I have to find somewhere else to live. I'll get a job there. I could probab-"