Complications
The morning after, I woke up with Logan’s arm draped over me, his breathing soft and steady. For a brief moment, everything felt perfect, like the world had finally slowed down, and I could just exist in this little bubble of warmth and safety.
But perfection doesn’t last. My thoughts crept in, uninvited, filling the quiet with questions I didn’t want to answer. What happens when the project ends? What if this is just another game for Logan, another conquest to add to his bad-boy reputation?
I shifted in bed, careful not to wake him as I slipped out from under the covers. I grabbed my clothes, my hands trembling as I dressed, and by the time Logan stirred, I was already at the door.
“Em?” he said, his voice groggy. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, his hair a mess in a way that made my chest ache.
“Hey,” I said, forcing a smile. “I should get home.”
Logan frowned, his gaze sharp despite the early hour. “You’re running again.”
“I’m not—” I stopped myself, sighing. “I just need some space, okay?”
His jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Alright. But don’t shut me out, Emma. Not after… last night.”
I left without another word, my heart heavy as I walked away.
***
Later that day, Logan found me by my locker. “We need to talk,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. He leaned against the wall, his presence commanding even in silence.
I sighed, closing my locker with a soft click. “Logan—”
“No,” he interrupted. “Listen to me for once.” He stepped closer, his hand brushing mine. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re scared this is gonna end, that I’m gonna mess it up. And maybe I will. But you mean something to me, Emma. You’re not just another girl.”
My throat tightened as his words sank in. “You can’t promise that,” I whispered.
“Yes, I can,” he said, his voice low. He pulled me into his arms, his hands steady on my back as his lips found mine. The kiss was heated, demanding, like he was trying to prove his point without words.
When we broke apart, he rested his forehead against mine. “Stop overthinking, Em. Just… let this happen.”
I nodded, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.
Meanwhile, Vanessa wasn’t done with me—not by a long shot.
She rebranded herself practically overnight, trading her short skirts and catty attitude for sweater sets and pearls. Now she was all about “wholesomeness,” cozying up to the school council and presenting herself as the perfect leader. It was calculated and infuriating.
“She’s trying to make everyone forget what she’s done,” Sarah said, glaring across the cafeteria at Vanessa, who was laughing with the new crowd she’d wormed her way into.
“She’s good at it,” I muttered, watching as people gravitated toward Vanessa’s new persona.
But this time, I wasn’t going to let her intimidate me. I wasn’t the same girl she humiliated in front of the school. If she wanted a fight, I was ready.
