29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

Nick

I told Logan we were going to stay in the motel room all day and that I wouldn't let him go, not only to take care of him, but also in case Hunter called. The only time I parted with him was to go to the deli down the street and grab us some food, but Logan only picked at his meatball sub while I managed to eat some of my tuna on rye.

We sat in the tub together, filled with soothing, steaming water, facing each other, but his head rested forward on my shoulder as I washed his back with soap and a washcloth.

"I think if I came out to any adult, it would've been Mrs. McKnight. Now it's too late."

"Shhh, it's okay. You loved her, and she loved you. That's what matters most."

Logan's hand slipped to my chest and rested his palm on my heart. "After Mom was killed, Dad had to identify her. Can you imagine? I never got to see her again except for that morning before school. I remember that day so clearly."

I said nothing, letting him tell his story.

"She made me a bowl of Froot Loops and some buttered toast and poured me a glass of orange juice in my favorite jelly glass with Bugs Bunny on it. During lunch that day, I punched Johnny Christian in the nose because he was being his bully self, and I was sick of it, which landed me in detention. I waited for Mom for so long, and before I could call my dad, Mrs. McKnight, who was pregnant with Hunter's sister, picked me up. I knew right then something was wrong."

I pressed a kiss to his head and continued to pour warm water over him with the washrag. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"Sometimes, I wish I could've seen her, but other times, I'm grateful I get to remember what she looked like before. That I didn't have to see her after the accident."

I wish I could do more for him other than wash him soothingly.

"I stayed with Hunter overnight, but I fucking needed Dad, my only parent, but I also understood he needed time to grieve, too. Still, I was only twelve, and I needed him. I was so confused and full of guilt. Mrs. McKnight held me as I cried for my mom for so long. Some people offer you their condolences and move on, not knowing what else to say, but Hunter's mom never shied away. It mattered."

He raised his hand and ran a finger along my nose, across my cheek, and down to my lips. "If she'd lived, I would've told her about you and how much I love you. Her death and Mom's death just show how precarious and precious life is. It could be snuffed out without a moment's notice, or it can linger, leaving suffering behind."

Even my eyes watered, and I barely knew Hunter's mom.

"Sometimes it makes me afraid of death. At the same time, I want to live life to its fullest while I still can. To not be so afraid, like coming out to our parents."

"I'll agree with whatever direction you want to go in, Logan. If you're ready to tell our parents, then let's tell them. If you want to continue to live in secret and not risk losing them, we can do that, too. I'm with you… here and now."

"We'll talk more when we come to that road."

I ran my hand through his damp hair, then wiped away a few stray tears.

The phone sounded like a shrill in the silence of the bathroom. My heart thundered in my chest as Logan scrambled out of the bath and grabbed a towel, but he didn't bother drying off as he rushed out.

"Hello?" he said.

I quickly dried off and walked into the room.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed as he listened to the other end. I sat next to him, wrapped his towel around his wet shoulders, and pulled him close to me so I could hear on the other end and be there for him. Logan leaned in closer to me to help.

"I can't believe she's gone," Hunter said on the other line, his voice cracking and so full of hurt.

"Fuck, Hunt… I'm so sorry." Logan's voice was hoarse and raw, reining in his emotions.

"We all thought she was getting better. I mean, she was less sick and getting stronger each day."

"What happened? I don't understand."

"I don't know, man. Dad walked into her room in the morning and cried out. She was barely hanging on and she died on the way to the hospital. They tried to keep her alive, but she didn't get treatment soon enough. She laid there in bed for hours… all night."

A sob escaped Hunter, and tears spilled down Logan's face.

"The doctors said she had a stroke, a pretty bad one, while she was sleeping, and that it can be caused by chemo sometimes."

"Fuck…"

"Is it bad for me to say part of me is happy she didn't suffer from prolonged cancer? It's bad, isn't it?"

"It's not bad," I blurted. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Hunter. It's never bad to wish and hope our loved ones don't suffer."

"Thanks, Nick."

"I'm going to fly out as soon as I can," Logan said.

"No, you're not."

Logan abruptly stood and paced as much as the small phone cord would allow him, still naked. I sat there and watched him, feeling helpless.

"The hell I'm not."

He growled over the phone, a sound I knew all too well when Logan was beyond frustrated.

"No, I'm going."

There was more talking from Hunter, but while I couldn't hear it, I got the gist. He wanted us to continue with the trip.

"Dammit, Hunter! I need to be there."

Back and forth he went until he deflated and sat back on the bed. "Fine, but I'm here to say I don't like this one bit. I'm only doing this for you." There was a pause, and he nodded. "Okay. Tell your family I love them and that I'm sorry. Once you have funeral arrangements ready, I'll fly out."

I leaned back into Logan to hear.

"Thanks, Logan. Trust me, there's nothing you need to do here, and I need you to finish this trip now more than ever. Both our moms would insist on it. Okay, I got to run. Bye."

"Bye."

He slammed the receiver down and fell back into the bed. I lay next to him, and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, bringing me closer.

His sigh was long and deep. "We're still on for the trip."

"I figured. Are you okay with that?"

"Hunter isn't giving me a choice. Once we've reached California in six days, I'll fly back home for the funeral."

"Uh, if you think you're going without me, you're very much mistaken."

"No, you don't need to go. You have tennis to think about. Once you get to school, you're going to be training hard."

"Nope, I'm going to be there for you, and you can't change my mind."

Logan pulled me up higher against him and kissed my head. "Thank you. I love you."

He said those words so freely now. His confidence grew more and more each day, and I was there to watch it all unfold. It was amazing.

I also itched to say those words. My feelings were also growing exponentially. Maybe too quickly. Once I was inside him, I was a goner. I was done for. Logan sucked me in, and I never wanted to go back to how things were. But I didn't feel right saying them, either. I wanted to give him one hundred percent of myself before I did, and definitely not while he grieved.

Those feelings were coming. I knew them all too well, except they were so much stronger than how I felt for Lauren, and one of many reasons why being with Logan didn't scare me.

Day 15

The next day, Logan and I agreed to drive toward Arizona. He said he was desperate for a change of scenery.

We quickly talked to our parents and then packed up the car. I drove so Logan could sleep some more. He needed it.

I kept glancing at him, unable to take my eyes off him. With his big body in the bucket seat, he was curled up on his side as much as he could. His head rested on his pillow, hair blowing in the wind.

I itched to touch him with this overwhelming need to protect him, but I didn't want to wake him up.

The drive was quiet and as desolate as the surrounding desert. I kept the music off for the same reason I didn't want to touch him. This trip wouldn't be the same as it had been from here on out. Death was good at that. It ruined all in its wake. It always left people behind, shattered.

Logan shifted in his sleep and woke up. "What time is it?"

I looked at my watch. "It's just past five thirty. We still have almost five hours to go."

He sat up and nodded as he cupped his hands over his face, lighting a cigarette.

"How do you feel?" I asked.

He huffed a humorless laugh. "Like I got hit by a sledgehammer. Is it too early for a beer?"

"Nah, I'm driving, so crack one open. There's no one and nothing for fucking miles except for some trucks."

Logan undid his seatbelt for a second, reached behind him in the backseat, and opened the cooler to grab a beer. He sat back down, buckled up, and popped the tab on the can, drinking about half of it back.

"Still cold," he said.

I wish I had wise words for him or something—anything to help him.

He took a drag, blowing the smoke out the open window, staring at the desert life.

"You know what you and I don't have?" he asked.

"What's that?"

"History. Memories. Good ones, I mean. Nothing like what I share with Hunter." He looked back at me with pain and regret in his hazel eyes. "That's all my fucking fault."

"I thought we agreed we weren't going to have regrets and focus on the here and now."

"Who else is going to have regrets? The dead? They don't care anymore. Someone's got to carry that weight. How else are we to improve if we don't have regrets?"

He had a point.

"Maybe I should've tried harder to reach you. Not everything's your fault. You don't need to carry those regrets alone."

Logan reached for my neck and gave it a squeeze before resting there, trailing his thumb up and down behind my ear. "Thanks for being there. I'm not sure what I would've done had I been alone."

"Don't thank me. I'll always be there for you, no matter what." He shouldn't have to thank me for being a decent human.

It was nearly ten at night, and it was pitch black outside, except for the stars and our headlights. The temperature had cooled down enough that we could turn on the car's fan and roll up the windows.

"Man, I wish I could see out there. I bet it's amazing," I said.

He shined a flashlight on the map. "We'll see it tomorrow. Follow Highway 64 before it turns into 180. Our camp will be on the right. We should see signs of it soon."

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the campgrounds on the southern rim of the Canyons and found our reserved spot. It took a while, being dark and all, but we got there and parked the car.

We were both exhausted by the time we pitched the tent, so we didn't bother with a fire. Instead, we snuggled into each other on our sleeping bags to keep warm as the night grew colder. Hell, Logan was my personal electric blanket.

And this was how we slept all the time now. Could I call Logan ‘Snuggles' if I snuggled into him just as much? We just had this need to touch each other at all times. It made me feel loved and wanted.

"Goodnight, Snuggles," I whispered to a quietly snoring Logan.

Yeah, I'd never stop calling him that.