Smart, Sexy and Secretive (40 page)

“
Did Logan leave?” I ask
him when he finally steps back.

He shakes his head, smiles,
and points over my shoulder. Logan is leaning against the wall.
He’s not rushing toward me. Instead, he’s standing there with his
foot flat against the wall, his knee bent. He has a bouquet of
roses in his hand.

I love
you
, I sign.

He hands the flowers he’s
holding to my mom and then he signs back.
You were brilliant up there.
He
points to my dad and grins.
Just ask him.
He’ll tell you.
But then he sobers.
You did it, Em. You did it.

I know what my dad thinks.
I want to know what Logan thinks.
What did
you think you of my performance?
I bite my
lower lip.

I’ve never known what
music felt like before, and I know now. Thank you. But I already
knew you were fucking brilliant.

I run over and wrap my arms
around him.

He tips my face up. “No one
has ever done anything like that for me before.”

“
I’d do just about anything
for you.”

My mom finally gets to hug me. “You
should have seen your dad’s face the minute you started to sing. He
had no idea you had that in you. And then he realized the words
were about him. He sobbed through the whole
performance.”

“
I did not sob,” my dad
complains, his voice gruff but playful.

“
Cried?” Paul
suggests.

“
Boohooed?” Matt tosses
in.

“
Wailed like an infant?”
Sam says.

My dad huffs, but he’s not
angry. “I’m just so proud of her!” My heart expands in my chest at
his words.

Logan drops an around my shoulders.
“So am I.”

Paul yells, “I think that’s pretty
much unanimous!”

“
I’m starving,” Sam calls
out. “Can we go get a pie?” He rubs his stomach.

Dad laughs. “The pie is on
me.”

“
Better
make it
pies
,” Paul says. “You’ve obviously never seen these boys
eat.”

We start to the restaurant on foot,
since it’s only a short walk away.

My dad puts his arm around my
shoulders and walks with me. “You really surprised me tonight,” he
says softly.

“
I can tell.” I laugh. But
it’s not a funny topic, not to me.

“
I’m sorry, Em. I should
have heard you play a long time ago. I would have understood why
you have this passion for music. You’re talented.”

I wrap my arm around his waist and
lean into him. “Thanks, Dad.”

Logan and the boys have
already crossed the street, as has my mom. I stoop to tie my shoe,
and my dad stops in the middle of the road. He waits for
me.

I hear the screech of the
tires before I even see the car careening in our direction. The ice
on the street is thin and black and hard to see. The car can’t
stop. My dad stands there immobile, frozen in the headlights. The
car swerves, but it’s not enough. My dad is directly in its
path.

The scene freezes in my head, like a
film played in slow motion.

“
Dad!” I call. I run toward
him, but then I look over his shoulder, and I see the moment Logan
makes his decision. His blue eyes meet mine, and he looks directly
into my face as he steps into the path of the oncoming car and
shoves my dad to safety. My dad falls onto the concrete beside me,
and the car hits Logan directly in the knees. He flies over the
hood and rolls into the windshield. The car skids into a parked car
with a screech of its brakes and a furious turn of the wheel. Logan
falls from the hood of the car and lands on the concrete. He lies
there. I watch, paralyzed with fear as I wait for Logan to get up
and shake it off. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t move. And then I see
the blood spreading across his forehead.

I run to Logan and grab the front of
his coat. “Logan!” I scream. “Logan.”

Paul pulls me off Logan and
pushes me into Matt’s waiting arms. I fight, kicking and screaming,
until Matt restrains me with his arms wrapped tightly around me. He
won’t even let me look at Logan. I scratch and kick at him, and he
grunts when I head butt his chin.

“
Stop it,” he
breathes.

He holds me immobile, his
strong arms wrapped around me while he keeps me turned away from
the sight of Paul and Sam working on Logan. They’re giving him
mouth-to-mouth. I can hear Sam counting, and I can hear Paul as he
breathes in and out. It seems like days until the ambulance
arrives. They hoist Logan inside, and I’m left there in the street
with Matt holding my hands behind my back. Paul rides with Logan.
Another ambulance is coming. I can hear the sirens. And that’s when
I realize the second one is for my dad.

I look down. He’s
completely motionless, and my mom has his head in her lap. She’s
sobbing and rubbing his quiet face. I watch, knowing it has to be
too late for my dad. He is as still as Logan. No one was giving him
CPR, though. Not like they were with Logan. The emergency
responders load my dad in the ambulance, and I stand there. I feel
dead inside. I don’t know what to do or where to go. My mom gets in
the ambulance, and they close the doors behind her. This reminds me
so much of the time that Matt was sick, and I had to call the
ambulance for him. They let me ride with him, though. No one left
me waiting in the street not knowing what to do.

Matt and Sam drag me toward
a waiting police car. “Get in,” Matt says as he pushes my head down
like you see the police do on cop shows. He slides in behind me and
drops an arm around my shoulders pulling me into him. He looks down
at me, getting in my face. “You didn’t get hit, did you?” he
asks.

I shake my head. “It wasn’t me. It was
Logan.”

Oh my God. It was Logan.
Logan got hit by the out-of-control car. He rolled over the hood
and into windshield. Then he lay on the cold concrete, unmoving.
Pete and Sam did CPR.

“
He wasn’t breathing,” I
say. I start to shiver.

“
No, he wasn’t.” Matt’s
hand rubs absently along my shoulder.

“
Are you scared?” My voice
is quivering.

“
Terrified,” he
admits.

“
The car was going to hit
my dad.”

“
I know,” he
grunts.

“
Why did he do that?” I
gnaw on my fingernail, tearing at my flesh until I feel
pain.

“
Why does Logan do
anything?”

“
I saw the look on his
face.” Tears roll unheeded down my cheeks.

Matt tips my chin up. “What look?” he
asks.

“
I saw him make the
decision to shove him out of the way.” I can’t believe he did that.
Why would he do that?

“
Mother fucker had better
live,” Matt murmurs. “If he doesn’t, I’m going fucking kill
him.”

The police officer lets us
out at the Emergency Room doors. Matt takes one of my hands and Sam
takes the other. I wish Pete were here.
Shoot! Pete.
“Did anyone call Pete?”
I ask.

“
Pete can’t get phone
calls,” Sam reminds me.

“
You’ll have to go see
him.”

Sam nods.

My mom runs toward me when we walk
into the waiting area. She wraps me in her arms, but I shove her
back. “Where are they?”

“
They’re in the ER. They
said we can’t go back.” She wrings her hands together. “Logan
wasn’t breathing.” She looks into my eyes, her brown eyes looking
for confirmation. Of what, I don’t know.

“
Was Dad?” I
ask.

“
Was Dad what?”

“
Breathing,” I
suggest.

“
Yes, your dad was
breathing.”

The weight doesn’t lift from my chest.
Not at all.

“
But Logan…” she says. “I’m
afraid it’s not good, Emily.”

“
I’m scared,
Mom.”

Paul walks from the back of
the hospital, running his hands through his hair. He tugs on the
tips and then does it again. Matt and Sam approach him, and he
shakes his head. He doesn’t know anything.

“
Why did he do that?” Paul
cries. Then the big guy crumples into a heap on the tiles. Matt
goes down with him, wrapping his arms around him, and Sam squats
down beside them and puts his hand on Paul’s arms. Paul’s body is
wracked with sobs.

I know why he did it. He
did it for me. Did my eyes silently plead with him? Did I somehow
ask him without using my voice to save my dad? He read something in
my eyes that made him do it? Did I beg him? Is this my
fault?

Emily

“
I don’t want to be here,”
I whisper to Paul as he leads me into the church. My legs are
shaking. I’m afraid the casket will be open for everyone to view
the body, so I make sure not to look in that direction.

“
I don’t either,” he
whispers back.

“
Ditto,” Matt says from
behind us. We squeeze into the pew and slide down, making room for
Sam. Sam looks lost without Pete. It’s like he’s lost part of who
he is with his brother gone. He’s constantly looking over his
shoulder for his other half. But Pete’s not here. Pete’s still
waiting for arraignment.

Tears fill my eyes when the
preacher starts to talk about the loss of life and the tragedy of
losing a beloved brother, son, and friend. He talks about divine
will, the power of the soul, and the healing hand of faith. I’m not
feeling healed. When will that start? Soon, I hope.

It has been four days since
the accident. Four days to reflect on what could have been, what
might have been. What was. Four days to think about all the ways I
should have lived my life differently. And all the ways he could
have lived his differently, too.

My dad reaches from behind
me and squeezes my shoulder tightly. He’s more likely to touch me
now than he used to be. He’s more likely to show affection and tell
me he loves me. It’s like he realizes everything that has been
lost, and he doesn’t want to miss a day or a word or anything
important again. My mom didn’t come. She’s busy taking care of
important business, she said.

The preacher drones on, and
I tune him out until Matt takes my hand and squeezes it tightly as
the casket is carried from the building. We’re not going to the
graveside service. It’s enough that we’re paying our respects here.
We file out of the church, and I look into a wounded mother’s eyes.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I say.

“
Thank you,” she replies.
But it’s by rote. She’s dead behind the eyes, and I wonder if
she’ll ever find that piece of herself that she lost with her son.
Ricardo Santiago was driving the car that night. He was an
eighteen-year-old boy who was on his way home from the library. He
was on the street and didn’t see the black ice that turned the road
into a skating rink. He didn’t see it until he lost control of the
car. He hit Logan dead-on, and the car clipped my dad’s leg. Dad’s
on crutches with a bad sprain, but he’ll heal. Ricardo died on
impact when his car careened into a parked car.

I vaguely remember seeing
Ricardo’s mother at the hospital after the accident. I remember how
they told her about his almost-instant death there in the waiting
room. I remember thinking it could have been us, receiving that
news. Our news didn’t come until hours later. And it wasn’t
good.

“
I’m sorry for your loss,”
I say to the next person in line, and I shake his hand. Ricardo’s
entire family is here. He had three brothers and two sisters. His
father is a wealthy attorney in the city. I remember reading that
much in the paper.

Matt and Paul have been shadowing me
ever since this happened. They won’t leave my side. When I sleep,
one of them throws a blanket over me. When I wake up, one of them
reminds me to eat. When I go to the bathroom, one of them stands
outside the bathroom door.

There’s one thing I am very
certain about: my life is not complete without Logan.

Logan

There’s not a place on my
body that doesn’t hurt. I wiggle my toe and try to lift my hand,
but I can’t. I blink my eyes open and stare straight ahead. It
hurts too fucking much to look left or right. Shapes move in front
of my face, but they’re too blurry. I can’t make them out. I close
my eyes again and drift back into the darkness. I welcome it
because where there is darkness there is no pain.

Emily

Someone shakes my arm. “Em,” a soft
voice says. Then more insistently, “Emily!”

I brush the noise away like
cobwebs from my face, but it doesn’t stop.

“
Emily, wake the fuck
up.”

I blink my eyes open to
find Matt in front of me. “He’s awake,” he says. He’s
grinning.

I brush my hair back from my forehead.
“What?” I still can’t think.

“
He just moved, Em,” Matt
says. He’s nearly giddy. He pulls the blanket off me and takes my
hand, pulling me to my feet. “Go talk to him. I need to call
Paul.”