A Demon's Kiss (Young Adult Romance) (9 page)

“What do you think Logan looked like last year?” Izzie asked, flipping back through the yearbook to the juniors.

“Gorgeous,” I grunted, trying to put on my high heels. They’re fancy. And make my legs look leggy. But they kill.

“He’s not here.”

“Huh?” I about toppled over. But I had the shoes on at least.

“Logan. His picture’s not here.” Izzie sounded bewildered. “He doesn’t even have a ‘picture not shown.’” She flipped through the pages. “And he’s not in the football team pictures, either. He’s not in this book—anywhere.”

That was weird. But I had my shoes to worry about. Could I actually make it down the stairs in them?

Izzie went on, not having the shoe-distraction, “Don’t you think it’s weird Logan’s not in the yearbook? At all? I mean, he’s Mr. Popularity. He should be all over this thing.”

I tried to balance, and think at the same time. Not easy in high heels. “When did he start school here?”

“Oh.” Izzie was pensive. “I’m not sure. He was here last year though...wasn’t he?”

“Definitely...ur,” I squinted, thinking. “Or was he?”

Just then the doorbell rang. I froze. “I’ve got to change my shoes!” These were way too dangerous. At least for tonight. I was too spazzy. I’d probably break my neck or something.

Izzie ran to get the door. Meanwhile, I tornadoed through my closet. Too bad Summer had such enormous feet. She had gobs of shoes. Where were mine? My three. Finally, I found the shoes I wear to work. They were nice. And still kind of high, a little bit, but I could walk and not worry about breaking my neck.

“Wow,” Logan said as I came down the stairs. “You look...wow.”

I smiled, suddenly feeling shy. The way he gazed at me—it was as though he was in love. I kind of wanted to run back upstairs. But kind of wanted to stay, too.

I hugged Izzie and we said our good-byes and then Logan and I were off to the award ceremony.

The banquet was fancy. There was a seafood buffet, and I tried my hardest to eat all polite-like. I’m sure Chloe would have managed with no troubles...but I wasn’t Chloe. And I was having troubles. So, I mainly stuck with the shrimp, since it didn’t have any complicated shells.

I would have been more adventurous if it had just been Logan and me at our table. But it wasn’t. There were a bunch of jocks from school, and they were all dressed in suits and had their families with them. I felt a little intimidated. I was kind of glad Logan’s family couldn’t make it. They were in Santa Carlo, or somewhere. So it was just him and me...and the jocks and their families.

I ate through the whole long, drawn-out award ceremony. I’m not really into football. I don’t know a quarterback from a halfback, or any other kind of ‘back they have, but hearing the highlights of all the great plays they made this year was a yawn-fest. To stay awake, I ate.

But afterwards, there was dancing. Logan and I danced snuggly together, and I rested my head against his broad chest. Mmmm. It was nice. I was on a cloud. (And glad I didn’t wear my high heels.) Logan was a delicious fit for a dance partner...just like Gage.

And I couldn’t believe how nice he was—on the way over to the banquet, he told me funny stories about him and his dad. It was sweet. He obviously loved his dad a lot.

“I can’t believe how much fun I’m having,” I admitted as we swayed to the music. “I was kind of nervous to come.”

He studied me seriously. “Why?”

“I don’t know. You’re popular. Popular people are cruel, didn’t you know?” We danced a while in silence. But then I went on, “But I was nervous because of the way this all came about too—the blackmail thing.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Sorry about that. It’s just...I wanted to get to know you and you have this wall …”

I looked up at him. “A wall?”

“Yeah. And I wanted to break it down—but I could tell it was going to take about a hundred years, and I wanted to be with you now. So I found a short cut.”

“But how’d you know it would work?”

He looked at me funny. “Because I know you.”

My heart did a little flip at that—the way he said it. “What do you mean?”

Logan shook his head. “You’re not ready to hear—not yet. I’ll explain it some other time. Just know, I know you...that’s why I wanted to be with you so bad.”

What?!

What, what, what?

I was suddenly filled with mixed emotions. On the one hand, I was thrilled to hear he wanted to be with me “so bad.” But on the other, I was anxious. Incredibly anxious. I don’t like secrets. In fact, secrets give me the shakes. Why did he think he knew me so well? What was that about? And bigger question still, why wasn’t I ready to hear it?

Ugh! I wanted to talk about it. Now. This minute. But Logan shook his head. “I’ll tell you when you’re ready,” he murmured, running his fingers through my hair. “You smell so good,” he whispered, his lips brushing my neck, sending tingles through my body. “Feel so good in my arms.” He held me tighter still, making my heart flutter.

His voice was full of reverent awe. “I can’t believe you’re here with me.”

Oh! Hearing his sweet compliments, so tender and sincere, tugged at my heart, made it pitter and patter and do all kinds of crazy things.

Still, I was incredibly anxious. Anxious, anxious, anxious. Only I tried to relax, at least a little, ‘cause I was having a good time, a wonderful time. I didn’t want to mess it up. I didn’t want to get into a fight with him, trying to make him tell me something he clearly didn’t want to
. I’ll worry about it tomorrow
, I promised myself.
Tonight, I just want to enjoy being with Logan, enjoy this fairy-tale. Tomorrow I’ll be realistic. Tonight I want to be kissed.

CHAPTER 12

“I don’t feel very good,” I told Logan suddenly, backing away from him.

We were dancing, really close and snuggly, and I was having such an awesome time, I hated bringing it up. I didn’t want to spoil things. But I didn’t want to barf on him, either. I figured that might spoil things too. Only there was no denying it—though, I tried at first—I was sick. And getting sicker by the second. It had come on sort of suddenly, yet in small steps. First, I felt sort of hot, then sweaty, but now I felt woozy. Sadly, there was no doubt—I was going to throw up.

“I’m sick,” I told Logan, backing away further from him, in case I barfed. “I—I need to go.”

He reached for me, looking concerned, but then relented. “Okay,” he said, allowing the space I created, though it seemed hard for him, like he wanted to put his arms around me and coddle, which was sweet. I like coddling. I do. But right now, no. Big no. He stepped away, “I’ll get our jackets and we’ll go.”

I nodded, clutching my stomach.

“I’ll wait outside,” I told him, knowing I wouldn’t be able to face his friends, trying to smile and be polite, do all that good-bye stuff. I knew it would be a disaster. ’Cause I knew I was going to puke any minute. Any. Minute.

“I’ll walk you,” Logan said, forgetting our coats and his friends. He practically carried me out to his car. “Michaela what is it? Are you okay?”

I shook my head, pulling away from him. With my hand over my mouth, I ran to a grassy spot in front of his car and threw up. I threw up again and again. It was humiliating—but I was too sick to care. I wanted to die, felt like I was going to.

Logan helped me into his car and handed me a plastic bag he pulled from his glove box. “I keep them around,” he explained. “Chloe drinks too much at parties.”

I smiled wryly, sweating like a pig. “So you’re used to girls puking?”

“Hey, wouldn’t be a date without it,” he grinned. Then he said gently, “So where to? Your home or the hospital?”

I heaved into the bag. I felt like we should go to the hospital, but it seemed a little extreme. “Home,” I murmured.

 
As he drove, Logan kept gazing over at me, looking concerned. What a good guy, I thought nauseously. I ruin his big night, but he keeps on being sweet. Who would have thought?

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?”

I shook my head. When we got to my house, I threw up in my driveway. Logan tenderly held my hair out of my face while I did it.

“What’s going on?” Suddenly Gage was beside us, looking furious. He pulled me away from Logan. “What’s the matter with her?” His eyes were shooting daggers. “Did you get her drunk?”

Logan shook his head, eyeing Gage’s hands on me. “She’s sick.”

“Seriously,” I croaked. Gage sounded so angry, I was afraid he was going to hit Logan. I was too sick for this kind of drama. I wanted to curl up in a ball. I wanted to die. “I didn’t drink anything—I’m just—” I threw up again. On Gage’s shoes. “Geez, I’m so sorry.”

“Beth’s not home,” Gage said, ignoring what I’d just done to his shoes. He shot Logan a look. “I’m going to take her to the hospital.”

“No. I’ve got it covered.” Logan helped me back into his car. “Why don’t you go find Addison?”

I froze at that. How did Logan know about Addison?

Gage seemed taken back. “What?!”

But Logan didn’t stand around, talking. He ignored Gage, acting like he wasn’t even there. Instead, he slipped into the car and we headed for the hospital.

***

When we left the hospital, it was after midnight. “Sorry I ruined your night,” I told Logan as we climbed back into his car.

“No.
I’m
sorry I fed you shrimp,” he said.

It turned out shrimp was the culprit. Apparently, I’m slightly allergic.

We drove back to the auditorium to get our jackets. “Oh no,” Logan groaned when he saw the Toyota parked out front. “It’s Chloe.”

She got out of her car before we even parked. She ran over to Logan’s side of the window. “You’re still with her?” Chloe seemed shocked, especially when she saw who “her” was. She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re the pathetic sales-girl from Posh.” I gritted my teeth, trying to breath-in
empathy
. If the guy I was ga-ga over was with another girl, I’d be hurt and say mean things, too. Well, no, I probably wouldn’t say anything. But I’d be hurt. And
think
mean things.

“You said you had a date—but with
her
?” Chloe sneered. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Empathy,” I silently ordered. “Empathy.”

“It’s no joke,” Logan said. “Chloe, meet my girlfriend, Michaela.”

“You’ve
got
to be kidding me,” Chloe wailed. “Your
girlfriend?!
”

Logan nodded. “Chloe, I meant it. We’re over.” Then he said gently, “Listen, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Don’t do me any favors,” she snapped, then glared at me. “Goodnight—girlfriend.”

She called me some other names as she stormed off to her car. I got the feeling she wasn’t pleased.

Logan gave me a sideways glance. “Sorry about that.”

I shook my head, not knowing where I stood on the situation. “She thought she was going to go to the banquet with you,” I told him.

“Well, she shouldn’t have thought that. I didn’t invite her—I never invited her.” Logan laid his head on the steering wheel. “The guys mentioned the banquet and I guess Chloe assumed I was taking her. But last night, when I realized she thought that—I told her she was wrong—that I’d already asked someone.”

He looked up at me. “I never meant for Chloe to take us so seriously. I mean it. I didn’t. And I was always really clear with her on that.” Logan looked resigned. “I guess I should call her.”

He went into the auditorium and got our jackets. There were still people milling about, cleaning. But everyone I saw looked tired. They should leave it for tomorrow, I thought with a yawn. It’s time to hit the sheets.

I, for one, was beat. And sad. I doubted Logan still wanted to take me to the dance, take me anywhere. Sure he was being nice about the whole upchuck episode, but inside he was probably thinking, “What a loser.” I know I was. I could just imagine what Summer would say when she heard about it. And I knew she would, hear about it, I mean. It would probably be all over school by Monday.

 
When Logan came back to the car, he turned the heater to high as I was shaking. Then he looked up at me apologetically. “Sorry that Chloe-thing messed up our night.”

I blinked. The Chloe-thing messed up our night? The
Chloe thing
? Really? I had puked my guts out and made him spend the evening in the emergency room, yet he was worried the
Chloe-thing
ruined our night?