More Than Her
Page 28

 Jay McLean

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 Ethan looked up when he heard me, then to Amanda he said, "We'll work something out Dim, promise." He squeezed her arm before brushing past me and into his room.
 I poured myself a coffee and stood next to her, leaning against the bench.
 She hadn't raised her eyes since I'd come in; she was still staring at the floor.
 I gently nudged her with my elbow. "You okay?"
 Her head lifted and her eyes met mine. They were red from crying. She had tears falling but she didn't bother to hide it.
 I put our coffees on the counter and pulled her into me. She didn't resist. Her face was on my chest as her arms went around me.
 "What happened?" I slowly ran my fingers through her hair. I hated seeing her like this. I hated that she was sad. I hated the she felt anything bad enough to make her cry.
 She inhaled deeply, then pulled back slightly to look up at me, those big blue eyes full of sadness.
 And it was this moment that I knew—I knew I'd do anything at all in this entire world to make sure she'd never feel sadness again.
 "I have to go home, Logan." She sniffed and wiped her nose on her arm. "I have to leave and go home."
 I tensed at her words.
 She can't leave.
 I can't let her go.
 Not again.
 "You can't leave, Amanda."
 She stared at me. Unblinking.
 A million emotions ran through me.
 "I won't let you go." I said. "Not again." It was barely a whisper.
 "Logan?" She was looking at me confused, not understanding my words.
 Valid.
 I don't truly understand them either.
 Finally, she pulled away and started to gather her stuff.
 My mind was still reeling with her news, that I wasn't focused when she said she was leaving and walked out the door.
 
 ***
 
 I was driving to campus when I saw her waiting at the bus stop. I pulled over so fast; the car behind me nearly hit me.
 "What are you doing?" I yelled out to her.
 She looked up from the ground. "Huh?"
 "Where are you going?"
 "Class," she shrugged.
 Ten minutes later pulled into a parking spot on campus. I turned the car off and faced her. She looked out the windshield, blank expression on her face.
 "What happened? I mean, why do you have to go home?"
 She faced me and shrugged. "It's nothing, Logan. Nothing we can actually do anything about."
 

 Turned out she has book club with Micky and Lucy that evening, so we planned that I'd pick her up from there after practice. She said she wasn't in the mood for socializing with anyone, so it worked out well.
 
 ***
 
 She went to her room when we got home from Micky's, shutting the door behind her.
 She didn't say anything on the drive home, and neither did I.
 I did however, offer her my hand.
 She took it.
 
 I sat on the sofa, getting some homework done when I felt Ethan sit down next to me.
 "I feel like an asshole," he said, running his hand through his hair. He looked like he'd been working out.
 "Why?" I shut my laptop and faced him.
 "For the shit I said to her yesterday. I mean, I didn't mean to say it. Not the way it came out. But it is kind of true, you know? If anyone needs to be here, it's me." He lowered his voice and looked to the hallway. I guess to make sure that Amanda couldn't hear us. "I get it—that she doesn't want to go back. And I don't even think that it's the missing out on college thing. I just—I think she doesn't want to be home—with Ma. And I think she just doesn't like to be there, with the people and the memories, I mean it happened a year and half ago, I don't—" He cut himself off before I got the chance to ask him what the hell he was talking about. "Shit," he spat. "Don't tell Dimmy I said anything. I forget sometimes that not everyone knows."
 "Knows what?" I asked, confused.
 "Nothing, man. Just—never mind." He put his leg up on the coffee table and started kneading his hip with his hand. "I can't fucking believe Ma got fired again."
 And there it was.
 "So she lost her job and that meant Amanda had to go home, and what? Work? Look after your mom?"
 "Unless a miracle happens, yeah. I guess so."
 
 ***
 
 Amanda
 
 I'd been laying in my bed, in a dark room, for who knows how long, feeling sorry for myself, when really, things could be a lot worse.
 The thing is, I just don't want to go home. I already gave up a year of my life to stay there and make sure everything was okay. I get that Ma was upset and that she lost it a little, and honestly, she had every right to.
 But it was hell.
 It wasn't just the schoolwork added with the full time work at a crappy diner, and then the coming home to a borderline alcoholic mom. It was also because somewhere between the day Dad walked out on us, and the night it happened, I lost myself. I lost who I was as a person and became something else. Someone weak, and stupid, and pathetic. Someone completely not me at all, and I don't want to be reminded of that.
 
 There was a light tap on my door before Logan popped his head in, "You decent?"
 It was too dark to see anything, "Uh huh."
 "Dammit!" I could hear the smile in his voice, and for some reason it made me happy, and so did the fact that he was in here right now.
 "What are you doing?" He moved closer to the bed.
 I sat up a little. "Sitting here feeling sorry for myself. What about you?"
 "Can you please turn a light on? Contrary to your obvious perception of my body, I'm not superhuman. I don't have night vision."
 I laughed and did what he asked.
 He stood there, bowl of ice cream in one hand, Gummy Bears in the other.
 My eyes went big as a gasp escaped my mouth, "Did you go out and get me these?"
 He nodded.
 "You didn't!"
 "I did." He smiled, that beautiful smug smile of his.
 
 He sat on my bed, and watched me scoff down the ice cream, which surprisingly made me feel better. "So I have an idea," he said.
 I put the bowl on the nightstand and gave him my full attention. "And what's that?"
 "Let's go a little crazy and beat the shit out of Ethan."
 I laughed so hard I snorted. It's my most attractive quality.
 He watched me, that panty-dropping smile of his on full display.
 The thing with Logan was that he had that power over me. His presence could make me forget all the emotions I felt before he entered a room. Because the second he's here, it's all him.
 I hated it.
 And I loved it.
 "What was that about anyway?" He mocked as he scooted closer so our legs touched. "I felt bad for the kid. I felt like yelling at him to tap out. How the fuck did you even get him to the ground?"