Bab 5: Chapter 5: Connections

5: Connections

Logan

I sit on the edge of my truck’s hood, listening to Jimmy talk about his latest “conquest.” He waves his hands in the air, bragging about the length of his “encounter” with the hostess at Dean’s Diner.

Inwardly, I roll my eyes, not really caring. Jimmy was always like this. He loves to brag about how much he gets around. To me, it sounds like he needs to get tested. To the rest of the guys, he might as well be a god.

Amy pushes her breasts against my thigh, her top unnecessarily low, letting her cleavage spill out. She’s trying to get my attention, but I’m drawn to the image of my new lab partner strolling across the lawn, her head down, long, black hair flying behind her.

Anyra. Her name sends lightning through my body.

Amy, biting her lip, tries to climb up on the hood to sit beside me. She slips on the slick surface and falls to the ground. No one notices, and I only gaze ahead, acknowledging what happened out of the corner of my eye.

I’ve had the conversation with her. Clearly, she hasn’t gotten the message.

At first, I played along, knowing that she just wasn’t ready to give up the relationship right away. I gave her time to adjust, but that was three months ago, and she still seems to believe we’re together. She had begun to pester me when she felt me pulling away.

It seemed as though my responding to her only gave her hope. Now, I’ve settled for outright ignoring her. Cruel, I know, but I really can’t find another way. The millions of times I’ve said, “WE ARE NOT TOGETHER ANYMORE,” simply haven’t gotten inside her skull.

I should have listened to Jimmy’s warning when he discovered we had started dating. ‘Be careful. She’ll stick to you like gum to your shoe if you go that path.’ Sadly, he wasn’t wrong.

I watch as Jenna, a solitary young woman whom I doubt very few of my friends would know, runs up to Anyra and grabs her. They seem to have a tense discussion, then Anyra’s eyes flick to me.

Our eyes meet, and my heart floats. I feel her as if she is inside my mind for that brief second. We are connected. Then, her eyes leave mine, and she walks away toward the parking lot, Jenna dragging her in tow.

I see them enter a blue car, Anyra at the wheel and Jenna as the passenger. They wheel around and speed off toward the town’s center. I feel my heart sink as Anyra drives away in her car. I suddenly feel cold, like all of the warmth in the air left with her.

“Logan!” I jump and turn to see an angry Amy scowling at me.

“What?” I ask with a little too much venom in my voice.

“Didn’t you hear anything I said?” Her hands are on her hips, her face flushed red with anger.

I run a hand through my hair and inhale sharply. “No,” I say bluntly. Before she has time to repeat herself, I jump down off the hood and turn to Jimmy and the others.

“Look, guys. My mom wanted me down in the library after school today. I’ll catch you later,” I say to them.

Jimmy rolls his eyes and punches Darren in the side with an elbow. “Library,” he mocks and laughs with the rest of the guys.

My mom runs the town’s small public library and occasionally asks me to help her organize it. I suppose there aren’t too many people in the town eager to work for her. She can be a rather…how do I put it? An AGGRESSIVE woman.

“Laugh all you want,” I tell them. “At least my mom isn’t sleeping with the principal.” With that, I open my truck’s door and climb in, letting an agape Jimmy turn crimson.

‘He really should’ve known better,’ I think.

My truck roars to life as I place the key in the ignition. I feel all eight cylinders work their magic as I rev the engine, pull out of the parking lot, and head toward the library.

By the time I get there, I can see my mom’s station wagon already parked in one of the five parking spaces available, jammed parallel to the road.

Cursing to myself, I park and hop out, knowing my mother is about to be livid. I look at my watch. 3:50. I’m ten minutes late. I swear, the woman has me on a tighter leash than her beloved chihuahua she totes around with her everywhere she goes.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?” I hear a loud, raspy voice yell from the back of the library as I step inside. A second later, a stout woman with graying brown hair storms down one of the aisles, her plaid skirt swishing up a storm.

Alice, my mom, ignores her glasses, which have fallen from her nose and now swing from their long chain around her neck.

I raise my hands in surrender. “I got sidetracked with the guys. I’m sorry.”

She stalks over to me, and I can practically feel the heat of her wrath.

“Logan Jason Tyler! I told you to be here twelve minutes ago. What if you had been kidnapped!” She swats at my arm, the highest part of me she can reach. I easily tower over her by at least a foot and a half.

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to get kidnapped,” I tell her gently. She’s been worried sick over me since my father went missing over three years ago. She used to be so happy, buoyant even. Not anymore.

“You don’t know that.” Angry tears fill her eyes. I chuckle slightly and give her a hug.

“I’m here now. What do you need me to do?” I ask her, turning to a stack of books filling a rolling cart. She shakes the tears away and points to the books.

“Put those away and go through the check-in bin,” she orders, and I move to the task. “How was school?” she questions as she begins organizing another stack of books.

“It was alright. I have a lot to catch up on. There is a biology project I’m supposed to be working on, but I have to do it with my lab partner and…” my voice trails off as I stack the books.

“And?” she asks.

“And I was wondering if I could invite her over to work on it?”

My mom pauses, a book teetering in her grasp. Her pale face turns a vicious shade of red, and her head whips around to face me.

“You want to invite a girl to the house? Do I need to remind you of our agreement? No girls, girlfriends, or any of that until you are well out of school and on your way to a decent career. You can’t afford any distractions right now. You need that football scholarship, which you will only get if you keep your grades up.”

“I know, Mom. But it’s just for a project. A GROUP project. That means we’ll need to work on it after school,” I try pleading with her.

My mom looks around the small library, thinking. “Fine, but bring her here. I’ll not have any of those floozies wondering about my home.”

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