Up In Flames(33)
Author: Nicole Williams

I tried to pretend that answer didn’t cut me. I tried to pretend that his response wasn’t breaking my heart for the one millionth time. I tried so hard, I think I might have fooled him.

This time, when I moved towards the exit, he released me. That hurt worse than his words. “Well, let me know if you ever figure that out.”

As I reached for the tent flap, Cole let out a long sigh. “So this is it? You’re choosing him over me? You’re . . . . leaving me for him?”

For the first time ever, Cole sounded like a little boy. Like the little boy who’d been left behind so many times in his life. That voice stopped me in place.

“No, Cole,” I said, glancing over my shoulder. He kind of looked like a little boy right now, too. “You’re the one leaving me behind.”

Before I could change my mind, I darted out of the tent and started weaving through the crowd again. One part of me searched for Logan’s light head bouncing through the crowd, hoping I’d find him. Another part of me hoped I wouldn’t be able to find him so I could go back to Cole and work out exactly what he felt for us. What he felt for me. Had I really imagined the way he’d look at me like if I was the only thing he could ever have in life, he’d be a happy man? Or had he been that talented a bluffer? I knew the way I felt about Cole. The confusion had cleared at last and I was confident in my feelings for him.

Just when my cloud of confusion had cleared, Cole’s set in. Timing wasn’t only a factor in love, it was the creator, keeper, and executioner.

Musings of my future with Cole would have to be put on hold because a familiar back marching towards the parking lot caught my eye.

Taking in a breath, I weaved through the crowd after Logan. He was a ways off and wouldn’t hear me if I called out to him, so I just continued snaking through the never ending stream of bodies until I finally broke free of the crowd at the edge of the Festival grounds.

Logan’s rigid form was storming away, likely ready to jump in his truck, peel the heck out of here, and who knows if I’d ever see him again. From the way he’d looked at me earlier, he never wanted to see me again.

“Logan!” I yelled after him, breaking into a run. He wove through the maze of cars at a breakneck pace.

“Logan! Wait!” I yelled louder and ran faster.

He didn’t stop, slow, or pause. He just kept moving like he didn’t hear me. Like I didn’t exist anymore.

I was closing in on him and by the time he’d gotten to his truck at the edge of the parking lot, I’d reached him.

“Stop, Logan,” I said, slowing down as I approached him. “Please.”

His back was to me, but I didn’t need to see his face to know he’d heard me and wasn’t eager to see me. His entire body went stiff.

I rested my hand on the side of his arm, trying to turn him my way. He flinched like I’d just shocked him.

“Logan,” I whispered. “I’m sorry. We never meant . . . I never meant . . .” I stopped and tried to collect myself so I wouldn’t sound like a blubbering, nonsensical mess. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I never intended to . . .”

The way he wouldn’t acknowledge me now was an indication of just how badly I had hurt him.

I blew out a rush of air. “Although I knew I would when I told you. Or when you found out.”

Of course he couldn’t have “found out” in a worse way. If only I told him sooner, even if I’d taken Cole’s advice and just did it over the phone, Logan would have been saved from what he just walked in on.

He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. Logan was a statue.

“Please, Logan. Say something,” I pleaded. “Say anything.” At that point, it felt like anything he could have said to me would have been better than cool silence.

Logan spun on me and now, instead of a mix of betrayal and heartbreak, he was nothing other than enflamed. His eyes were like two black coals glaring their hatred at me.

“You want me to say something, Elle?” he said, his voice trembling. “You want me to say all the things I want to say right now? All the cruel, mean things circling around in my mind? On the very tip of my tongue?” The sinews of his neck were popping to the surface. Logan was spilling over in a way I’d never seen him anywhere close to before. “You want me to tell you how I feel, what I think about you, what I think about . . . him?” he cursed the word before a full body shiver ran down him.

All I could do was nod and try not to cry.

“Well, there’s a part of me that wants to do that, too. To say and do the things I’m feeling right now. But you know what?” His voice was lowering, although it still shook. “I’m better than that. I’m better than giving into my every emotion and my every whim. I’m better than hurting you the way you hurt me. I’m better than that.” Looking away from me, he shook his head. “At least one of us is.”

Logan’s words drove the dagger of guilt in as far as it could possibly go. I couldn’t have felt worse if I tried. The cruel words he refused to unleash on me couldn’t have made me feel like any worse of a human being.

“Now if you’ll just leave me alone already, I need to get out of here.” Twisting back around, he threw open his truck door. “Tonight didn’t go exactly according to plan.”

Watching Logan turn away from me, for what could quite possibly be the last time, brought an onslaught of emotions and memories. The first day of kindergarten when the little boy in a blue polo shirt had sat next to me and told me he’d be my friend when I couldn’t stop crying after my dad had dropped me off. The boy who’d brought me a tray of brownies, a stack of movies, and sat with me on the couch all week after I broke my leg in fifth grade. The boy who’d blushed whenever I talked to him or looked his way when we became teenagers. The same boy who made it his business to make sure all the other boys treated me right. The boy who’d slipped a promise ring on my finger months ago.

The man who was leaving me, once and for all, because I’d crushed him.

“Forgive me, Logan,” I said, starting to sob. The memories, the emotions, the night was just too much. I couldn’t hold it back any longer. “Please, forgive me.”

“Sorry, Elle,” he said, crawling into his truck. “Forgiveness isn’t something I’m up to right now.” His voice was empty, with just a hint of sadness.

His voice and his words only made me cry harder. So hard, I couldn’t take it anymore. I fell to my knees in a heap, the intensity of everything I was feeling about to tear me apart from the inside.

Logan paused before closing the truck door. I could feel his eyes on me as he sighed. “One day, Elle,” he said. “One day I’ll be able to forgive you. Just not today.”

The door slammed shut before the truck’s engine fired to life. As Logan drove away from me, I realized I hadn’t only lost one good man that night. I might have lost two.

Chapter Twelve

I kneeled in that grass field for a while. Long enough to watch the Festival grounds empty of cars and people, but not nearly as long as I felt like I could stay in that defeated position.

I think some part of me was waiting for Logan to come back and yell at me. I needed to be yelled at; my remorse wouldn’t settle for anything less. Some part of me waited in hopes Cole would come find me, hold me close, and tell me everything was going to be all right. Another part of me just was physically, emotionally, and mentally drained and couldn’t work up enough strength to lift myself up.

When enough time had passed I knew neither boy was coming, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I needed to punish myself at the same time I needed to challenge myself. There was only one way I knew to achieve both.

I didn’t care what time it was and I didn’t care how crazy it was. I just needed . . . something to plug the overwhelming emotions spilling from me into and I needed that something now.

After making my way back to my Jeep, I headed home to make a quick stopover. I was praying, hoping, crossing my fingers and my toes that Dad wouldn’t be home when I arrived. When I pulled in the driveway, I discovered that finally one thing had gone my way that day.

Dad’s car wasn’t there and the house was dark save for the desk lamp he kept on in his office. He was probably still at the Festival, or maybe he’d made a quick stop by the diner to see how Dani and Paul were holding down the fort. I didn’t know, but I didn’t let my lack of knowing make me any less thankful for small mercies.

Rushing inside, I ran straight up to my bedroom. Even though Dad was gone, he’d be home any minute and I didn’t want to be there whatever minute that was. Rifling through my closet, I tugged on my well-used hiking backpack. After a little encouragement, I managed to pull it free. I’d had the pack since I was twelve and used it a handful of times every summer. I hadn’t used it this summer yet, but was about to make up for my neglect.

I did a quick check to make sure all my essentials were still packed inside and, not wasting another second, threw it over my shoulder and rushed back downstairs. Racing into the kitchen, I snatched my water bottle out of the dishwasher and filled it up at the sink.

There it was. I was done and ready. All I needed to do was get out the door and to the trailhead and I was golden. Just as I was about to sprint out the front door, I paused. Dad would be worried sick if I just disappeared on him again overnight. He would be frantic and worried and an all-around mess.

I couldn’t do that to him again.

Grabbing the stack of sticky notes in his office, I scribbled down a quick note.

I considered adding “alone” to the “gone hiking” part, but I guessed Dad wouldn’t be any more or less comforted knowing I was hiking at night, in the woods, alone. So I kept it . . . open to interpretation.

By some other miracle, I made it out the front door, into the Jeep after heaving my pack into the passenger seat, and down the block before I caught sight of a pair of head lights rounding our street. I guessed they were Dad’s, but if I couldn’t make out his telltale classic Mustang from this distance, he couldn’t make out my Jeep.

The trailhead wasn’t all that far outside of town and I parked the Jeep less than thirty minutes after leaving town. The whole ride I’d been plagued with both Cole’s and Logan’s faces and how they’d fallen from things I’d said. From things I’d done.

Cole hadn’t outright said we were done, and I clung to the hope that he felt the same thing I did: that we had something special. Something as confusing as it was combustible, but something worth fighting for. Something worth crushing a good man I’d known for over a decade.

What if Cole didn’t want me anymore though? What if it was all about the chase for him? What if he was done with me now that he’d conquered me? What if, what if, what if?

I was suffocating in a sea of what ifs.

In a sea of the unknown that would remain that way until I had answers. But since I was at a trailhead I’d hiked dozens of times from when I was bouncing around in a pack on my mom’s back, and Cole was . . . somewhere, the unknown wouldn’t be working itself out anytime soon.