Mars (12 page)

“I’ll see you later, but not too soon.”

After exactly 75 seconds, he closes his eyes. His chest stops moving. A beep resounds in the room and Logan goes limp. The tear on his cheek stays there. I wipe it away.

“I love you,” I say.

And I know that wherever he is now, he can hear me and he’s smiling.

31

A thousand years

The funny thing about grief is that it sits in your heart like a monster, chewing on your veins and arteries. It consumes you and makes you feel hollow and empty. No matter how hard you try to chase it away, grief will run after you.

Going through the loss of my mom is something I still suffer through every day. I remember her. My memories of her are forever present in the back of my brain, reminding me that she’s not here to live with me.

Surviving losing Logan though, is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I feel like my soul was drained and he took what’s left of it away when he died.

“Logan Thomas Masterson was a great man. At the age of 18, he was taken from my family and up there. He was a son, a brother and most importantly, a friend,” says Mr. Masterson, holding a red rose in his hand and putting it on the coffin.

I clutch on Jenna’s arm tighter and cry on her shoulder. She hugs me from the side and rubs my shoulder. I can’t stop crying even though I want to.

“He is the most amazing human being I’ve ever known. I am proud to call him my son. He smiled all the time and worried more about others than himself. He was a gentleman, and he did good for others. He taught us to love,” says Jane Masterson, standing shoulders straight. She does the same thing on his coffin and there are now two bright roses.

The tears are falling on her cheeks, but she looks proud.

“Ella? Sweetie, come up here,” whispers Jane.

Ella walks shakily to where Logan’s body is, her lips are trembling and she is clearly struggling to speak.

“Logan is the best brother I could have asked for.
He always put others’ happiness before his.
He was the only person capable to make me smile no matter what. He will always be my brother and I will never, ever forget about him.” She lays down a blue rose.

No one is courageous enough to say anything, so I guess this is my turn. Jenna mutters words I cannot make out, but I think she’s trying to calm me down. She hands me two tissues and I wipe my cheeks.

I take small steps that feel like an infinity to the dark brown coffin. The flower in my hand gives me strength to say what I want to say. I look up for the first time and see everyone. Ethan, Jenna, Ryan, Logan’s family, my dad, a few teachers and several students from my school.

“There was a point in my life when I thought I would never be able to love again. There was a moment when I saw my life as nothing but misery. I used to cry myself to sleep every night, because I was heartbroken, you know?”

Ethan looks down.

“But then I met Logan. Does anyone know what he first said to me?” I chuckle, “He told me I was beautiful. I got scared, so I ran away. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him. Then time passed and we became as close as best friends. He would always make me smile and laugh effortlessly. His hugs were heaven, I swear.”

I take a deep breath. “But then we fell in love. Logan taught me how kind love truly is. How even when it brings you bad, it brings you good too. He made me see that love is the purest thing in the world and if you have it, nothing can do you harm. He made my life better. Even in times of weakness, he was brave and strong.”

“That’s why, I’d like to thank him,” I say, making a place for my flower among the roses, “for proving that angels 
can 
exist in human form.”

The amaryllis on the coffin stands out, looking different and fierce. I know that if he’s staring down, he’ll smile at me because of the irony.

There is a small applause within the crowd. I melt into Jenna’s arms because I feel like a weight has gotten off my shoulders.

He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s dead. Nothing can change that.

But for the first time in a week, I think I’m going to eventually maybe be okay.

The funeral ends when we are asked to leave so that the coffin can be lowered into the ground. Logan’s mom pulls me aside and hugs me so tight I can’t breathe.

“Thank you again,” she says through tears.

I don’t say anything.

She puts something in my hands and smiles.

“This is from Logan to you,” she says. “There are letters in there, he wrote them for you.”

“Oh God,” I say, grazing the small notebook’s features.

When I open it, there is a picture of him and me on the first page. It’s the one we took an eternity ago at the USA vs. Wales event. He is smiling while kissing my cheek and with one hand, waving a hand-made Wales flag. I am grinning and showing off my USA shirt.

I close the notebook, not because the picture hurt me, but because I want to read this later when I get home.

Hugging Logan’s mom, I feel her pat my back.

“You’re part of the family, you know that? If you ever need anything, call me.”

“I will,” I say.

She leaves. Everyone does, with time. Dad is looking at me.

“C’mon, kiddo, let’s go home.”

He puts an arm around my shoulder and we start walking toward the car.

The funny thing about being in love is that you never truly leave the person you love. They stay in your heart until the day you die. Some people forget who they’ve ever loved and some marry those people.

One thing I’m not sure of is whether I’ll ever fall in love with someone and love them the way I love Logan. I am sure that I’ll be okay, because love is about keeping promises. I am also certain that Logan is in peace, because he is no longer in pain. He stopped suffering and this is all that matters.

That was just it; the big answer to why we fall in love.

Because no matter what happens, if you have love, you’ll be alright. It is a guarantee. You trust love; you fall and you know someone will catch you.

I look up to the sky and I can’t help but smile.

I love you, 
I think, 
I’m going to be okay.

After all, love is all about acceptance.

The end.

If you want to read Logan’s notebook filled with letters to Amy, here’s an excerpt:

Prologue

Two light grocery bags in hand, she followed her Dad to the bright, white family car that caused them many troubles as they struggled to find it in the middle of snow. The girl opened the front seat door and slipped inside the car, completely oblivious to the look her father was giving her.

He sighed. “Lena?” The girl froze because he never called her by her actual name, unless he was serious about something. He always called her
Rosie.
“We talked about this. On the way here, you’d sit in front. On the way back, you’ll sit behind me.”

“Daaad! Please?” Lena pouted and widened her eyes a little. He shook his head and pointed to the backseat. He refused to give in to her, not again. Lena groaned and held out a hand to her dad. He took it and supported her waist as she moved to the backseat. She huffed and put on her seat belt.

“Happy?” she asked.

He gave her a smile. “That’s my girl.”

The car ride was silent, until her Dad put a CD in and played it. Lena grinned and sat up immediately. At the first notes of the song, she made jazz hands. Her ponytail swung as she swayed in her seat to the music.

“Love, love me do. You know, I love you. I’ll always be true,”
They both sang loudly. The Beatles had always been their favorite band, even though Lena’s mom didn’t like them much.

“I love you, Dad!” cried out the girl, her chestnut colored eyes shining in exhilaration and excitement.

Her father laughed. “You know I love you too, Rosie.”

The next seconds were a blur. Between the music, their singing and the momentary happiness; there was a truck that had passed the red light and was heading towards them. Time froze, because this was a moment that would turn the girl’s life upside down.

Lena turned just in time to see the truck inches away from colliding with the car. Her dad noticed as well, and his eyes widened. She screamed. The car lurched and Lena was thrown forward violently, the seatbelt biting into her stomach and knocking the wind out of her. The sound of her Dad calling out her name was the last thing she heard before the world faded away from her.

“
Rosie!”

I could hear a vague sound in the background.

I felt myself crying. For a long moment my upper eyelid seemed glued to the lower one, because I couldn’t open my eyes. When I finally could, they hurt from my tears.

My gaze settled on Mom’s terrified expression, and I watched as her face slowly softened with relief. She wiped the tears on my cheeks, although that didn’t stop them from falling again.

She patted my hand. “Was it a bad dream, honey?” she asked. I took deep breaths to steady myself. I nodded.

“I wish I turned earlier, so I could—I don’t know,” I whispered, watching as the invisible switch clicked in my mom’s mind.

“I wish he was here,” she said.

Me too, Mom
, I thought. 
I miss him too.
How often had I wished that he was still alive, and that I was the one who had died?

I closed my eyes again and felt myself drift away into another dream.

If you enjoyed this sample then look for
A Unique Kind of Love.