3. Logan

3

LOGAN

T he scent of burgers hit me as soon as I stepped on the third-floor landing of the library, and I couldn’t help but smile. I’d skipped eating before our tutoring session this time, hoping Josh would supply burgers like he had the last two times we’d met. I knew I shouldn’t count on it, but it smelled like my optimism had been rewarded.

My smile faded as I approached the table where Josh sat and he didn’t loft the bag of burgers at me with a big grin like he had last time, saying, “I thought maybe if I kept bringing burgers, you won’t kick me off your team.” Which I guess made me the captain of what, the nerd squad? Joke was on him, though, because I wasn’t allowed to just drop him, and even though I hadn’t wanted to take him on in the first place, I’d accidentally caught myself looking forward to our session.

We’d spent half the last session prepping for the test, during which Josh had been focused and on top of his shit. I’d figured out he grasped concepts quicker if he could relate to them visually, especially if we used examples that were pertinent to his daily life, like lacrosse. Which was also how we’d ended up spending that latter half of the session talking about lacrosse. Normally, my eyes might have glazed over at any sportsball talk. But Josh got so animated about it, I couldn’t help getting sucked in as he explained the lingo and rules. I’d asked how he’d gotten into lacrosse and he’d shrugged, saying, “You know how you’ll hear these stories about athletes who just sort of fall into a sport, their passion for it is awakened immediately, and they just start kicking ass?” I hadn’t, but I nodded like I knew what he was talking about. If chess counted as a sport, then maybe I did. He continued, “Yeah, that wasn’t me. I tried football and sucked. I tried soccer and sucked. Basketball, volleyball, wrestling.”

“You know there are other extracurriculars besides sports,” I’d pointed out.

“I got kicked off the chess team.” When I snorted, he’d scowled at me. “Lemme guess, you were captain of the chess team?”

“Only my senior year.”

“Well good for you. I forgot how to castle during my first match. But then my school decided to start up a lacrosse team. I figured why not? Like, I’d exhausted everything else and I wanted to play a sport because it was the cool thing to do, and I wanted to be cool.” Something about the way he just said it like that was endearing.

“Then your passion was awakened and you went on to kick ass?”

“Nope. I sucked that first year. I barely got any playing time, but since I felt like lacrosse was the last frontier for me?—”

“In your quest for sports and popularity.”

“Yeah. I convinced my folks to send me to a lacrosse camp in Maryland for the summer, and when I came back, I was way better.”

“And way cooler?”

“Definitely cooler, too.” Josh flashed a grin my way, sending a jolt of heat through me.

“Your passion was finally awakened.”

He’d chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I love lacrosse, but in retrospect the best thing it did for me was keep me from massive student loans. I’m not under any illusion it’ll go beyond college, but I’m grateful for all the opportunities it’s given me.”

“I’m sure the popularity was a nice perk.”

He rubbed his jaw, considering. “Yeah, but I don’t care about that much now. I dunno, it just stopped seeming so important.”

I’d grimaced internally then, because there was no way I could dislike him as much as I kept wanting to after spilling all of that so guilelessly.

Josh’s demeanor today was markedly different, though. He was hunched over his laptop at the table, cheek propped on one fist, face turned away from me as I approached. My nerves spiked the closer I got. He’d had his physics exam earlier today, and if I went by the vibes he was throwing off, he didn’t feel good about it.

“Sooooo?” I said hesitantly as I dropped my backpack on the table, way more invested in his emotional state than was warranted. I mean, yeah, I loved tutoring and helping people improve their grades, but there was usually a healthy sense of detachment in place, instead of the strong desire to give him a hug as he turned toward me, his expression glum.

“I didn’t even make a C.” Josh heaved out a giant sigh as he turned the laptop screen toward me and I squinted at it. The text came into focus at the same time I caught him breaking into a grin in my peripheral vision.

“You asshole!” I punched his arm.

“A B minus isn’t a C.” His grin was unrelenting, and I couldn’t help sharing it as I dropped into a chair next to him, shaking my head.

“Celebratory burger?” he asked.

“Absolutely.”

Josh pulled the burgers and fries from the bag, before unwrapping his and bumping it against mine. “Cheers. I can’t believe you fell for that in the first place,” he said around a bite of burger. “Must mean you really do think I’m a dumbass.”

“No.” I swiped a napkin across my lips, my tone defensive. “I just didn’t think anyone still pulled sophomoric stunts like that.”

“I’m technically a sophomore, so.”

I stared at him before breaking into a laugh. “I take it back, I do think you’re an idiot.”

He grinned again, and then polished off his burger—the guy ate like a garbage disposal—before saying, “Remember that time I said projectile motion problems made no sense to me and were the most needlessly complex bullshit?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I lied. This next section? Even worse.”

“You’ve got me for the next hour. Use me wisely.”

“Oh, I will, Whizkid.” Then he flashed a wink that made his dimple pop and I squeezed my burger so hard, sauce gushed out the sides. Fortunately, he’d already busied himself leafing through his packet of coursework.