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Cody approached and stood before him. Silent. Staring. Waiting. Logan paused mid-word before he continued a moment later and then finished his sentence but not the thought he desperately wanted to write down. He looked up to his twin and the hint of a smile that touched the corners of his mouth wasn’t a look he could decipher.
“Everything okay?” he asked, and Cody rocked back on his heels.
“You look… rested,” he said, and Logan looked back down to his journal. Cody took a seat next to him on the weathered brick steps that lead up to the house. They didn’t speak, a comfortable silence fell between them, though Logan imagined he could still feel the subtle prickle of the unease that lingered between them. It wasn’t as bad as it was before. Things felt less heavy, less messy, now that they had fought over it, had discussed it in a language they both understood. Yet, despite the peace, there was still much to talk about.
Logan closed his journal some time later and looked over to Cody who watched a white Honda Civic creep down the quiet neighborhood road.
“Want to talk about it?” Cody asked and Logan looked down to the battered leather book he held. Every thought, secret, concern, and emotion he’d ever had was in it and for a heartbeat he wanted to hand it to his brother, unfiltered, and let him drink in all that he’d felt.
“Yes,” he said, as he tightened his grip on the journal, “and no…” Logan groaned and rubbed his face. Frustration coiled like a hot coal in his throat.
“Is not working really bothering you that bad?” Cody asked, nearly mocked, and it earned him a glare. That wasn’t what was bothering him in the moment, it was only a small part of it, but Logan let his twin think it was.
“I feel like I’m going insane. What’s worse? Father locked me out of the system. I can’t even correspond via email about possible updates regarding Ellonson’s interrogation. Do you know anything about it?” he asked, and Cody shrugged. Logan balked.
“Logan, come on! You know I’d tell you if they’d started questioning him,” Cody laughed and clapped his brother on his back. “But, no, nothing yet but it’s only been three days,” he said, and Logan grumbled then stood. He stretched his stiff legs and back, felt a pop along his spine, relaxed, and returned the polite wave to the jogger that huffed past them on the sidewalk beyond the yard. “You know… we should go to the mall,” there was a grin in Cody’s words that Logan didn’t need to see to know was there.
“Felicity’s there isn’t she,” Logan deadpanned.
“What? No!”
“Cody, Snapchat story says otherwise.”
“Logan… you don’t even have Felicity as a friend on Snapchat,” the silence between them was impregnated and Logan remained with his back to his brother. “Do you have Gan as a friend?”
“We can take my car.”
“You do, don’t you! You checked her Snap Story too, no less!”
“I’m going to get dressed.”
“Oh, you really are something else, Logan. Gan is your friend on Snapchat? I thought you didn’t even like her. Also, I’m not sure how I feel about you adding her before Felicity. We’ve known Felicity since we were kids,” Logan tried to walk as quickly as he could to their room, which, despite the size of their home, was still shared with his brother. There was no escaping. Cody followed behind him as Logan undressed.
“It’s not that big of a deal, it’s just Snapchat,” Logan said as he pulled a hoodie from the closet.
“Logan, you literally have three people on Snap. Me, Molland, and dad… well four now because of Gan,” Cody crossed his arms and Logan felt a blush touch his ears.
Busted.
“Listen, when I sent it to her-”
“You sent it to her?”
“Cody, this isn’t High School, we’re two adults. Don’t talk to me like that,” Logan said as he pulled on a pair of jeans.
“Fine, you’re right. That’s your business, not mine. However, what is my business is your excuse for an outfit. You look homeless,” Cody raised his brows for emphasis.
“And you look like you just stepped out of a JCPenney cataloge,” Logan gave his brother a once-over and blinked at his choice in shoes. “Cody, are those white New Balances?” Logan pointed at his brother’s footwear.
“Point taken.”
Logan redressed despite, truthfully, not wanting to, but he saw his brothers point. Somethings were best left to be worn at home. He did have to admit, as he snapped his black watch in place, that he did look better and, as a result, felt a bit better. It was a simple look, white high-top Converses, khakis, a long sleeve shirt with a few buttons at the top loosened and the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. Cody donned something equally simple, a pink t-shirt, navy blue straight-legged pants, and white checker-board slip-on Vans. Mall clothes of the modern century.
“Do you want to drive?” Logan asked and held up the keys.
“Only if it’s a ’67,” Cody grinned as he took the keys from his brother. Logan rolled his eyes in good nature as he closed and locked the door to the house.
Cody killed the engine of the Shelby GT as they stopped in a parking spot. Logan ran his hands through his windswept hair as his brother began to close the convertible top.
“Shame this car is a seasonal ride,” Cody commented as he preened a bit, adjusting his hair, as Logan reached over to pull the keys out of the ignition.
“I know, but still the best money I think I’ve spent in a while,” he said then exited the vehicle. “I do sometimes wish I’d gone for the 1965 model of the Shelby, I like the boxier look, personally,” Cody got out a moment later and nodded.
“Still, you basically stole this car. Not many GT350’s go for the price you bought her at,” and Logan agreed. She had been a steal.
The mall was unusually busy for a Wednesday, Logan thought, as he and Cody picked their way through the crowd. A man bumped into his newly stitched arm and it sent him reeling with a spike of pain. He kept his composure, but it was enough to make him sweat. A few strides later and, without really thinking about it, Logan used his brother as a shield for the throng of people. Crowds didn’t typically bother him, but he still felt sore from the confrontation in the woods with Ellonson a few days back. His body still ached from the beating he’d taken and there was a persistent dull throb behind his eyes from the blow to the head he’d received.
“Felicity? Felicity!” Cody called and Logan looked up to see the two women standing in the busy concourse. Gan, he noted with concern, seemed ridged, maybe even worried about something, but he couldn’t be sure. “Hey, fancy meeting the two of you here,” and the line almost made Logan roll his eyes, as if he hadn’t planned this all himself. An alarm blared from a neighboring store, and he flinched, the sound loud and intrusive. He crossed his arms and looked back to the two women, and it was obvious that something was wrong. Felicity’s cheerful demeanor shifted to concern and the contrast made his stomach tighten. The stark feelings of Romulus surfaced in his head and tightened around his gut.
“Are you okay?” she asked the redhead as she stood up from her seat. Gan, shorter than Felicity, seemed to flounder.
“I… I just,” and Logan tightened his jaw against the nameless emotion that welled up within him.
“I’ll meet you at the restrooms,” Felicity said, and Gan nodded before she all but bolted into the crowd.
“I think this trip may have been too much for her,” Felicity said as she gathered up their things. Her brow was creased with worry, her full lips pulled down in a frown. “We were having so much fun, I… I don’t know what happened,” she watched the woman disappear and began walking in the direction Gan had gone. Cody, silently, took the bags and drinks from Felicity, who offered them up without a word. “She said she was fine coming and I thought the mall would be quieter than it is. Wednesdays are usually slow here,” and Logan agreed though he had mostly stopped listening to her speak as he watched Gan’s retreat. He picked up his pace and walked ahead of his brother and Felicity.
“She’s running,” he said, and he followed suit.
Gan was fast, faster than he could be in this kind of crowd, and a few times he lost sight of her despite his height. She left a trail of breadcrumbs in the form of cursing patrons, and he followed them like a lost child. He didn’t like any of this, the chase, the concern, and the overwhelming press of Romulus against his consciousness. He’d shifted out of anger before, yes, but was it possible to shift out of worry? That thought alone was terrifying.
Then he had her.
He placed a hand on her elbow and guided her into the coolness of a maintenance hall between two storefronts. In the haven of the dim light, she came into sharp focus. She shook, her small frame wracked with tremors, her breathing was hitched, almost painfully shallow, and he knelt before her, hand still on her arm and he met her eyes. So much of this reminded him of the incident at the pub, before Ellonson had been captured and he’d nearly set the place ablaze. Her panic attack had led to unconsciousness, and he’d felt so helpless then as he held her, tried to pull her out of her stupor, but she had been too far gone.
“Gan?” he said, his voice calm and even despite his growing concern. Her eyes met his and he felt his stomach knot with a sentiment that felt akin to bashfulness. “Can I have your hand?” and she gave it to him. He wanted to ground her, bring her back as close to the present as he could. He gently squeezed it and then took an intentional, measured, breath and counted as he exhaled. She did as he did. He could see the tension in her shoulders melt, panic began to seep out of her, no doubt because she could breathe again.
“Lo-Logan it…” she began, he shook his head, and ran his thumb over the dimple in her elbow.
“You don’t have to speak. This won’t last,” he soothed, and he repeated his breathing and she mimicked him. He was thankful for all the reading he’d done. He’s sworn that, if he could, he would help her as much as he was able. How many articles had he poured over since that day at the pub on how to help with panic attacks? He had prayed he’d never have to put into practice what he’d learned but she still hid things from him just as he hid things from her. It was mutual secrecy but, even if she wouldn’t let him in, wouldn’t let him know, he didn’t want her to feel helpless. Where he could he wanted to support her. Wanted to be someone she could lean on and, even though he didn’t dare think about the implication of these feelings, he wouldn’t let his own insecurities hinder that goal.
Her hand on his forearm almost startled him.
“How’s your head?”
“Pounding,” she said, and he stood.
“Do you need something for it?”
“No, I can’t take anything else. I’m sure it’ll get better once I’m out of here,” she confessed, and he nodded. “I feel so bad. I ruined our day out all over a silly flame charm,” her cynical laugh stabbed him, and he rubbed the ridge of her knuckles. The contact made him feel warm and he, truthfully, didn’t want to let go of her hand. He never did.
Felicity was between them a moment later, announcing her arrival with a worried phrase that was lost to him as soon as she’d said it. He didn’t want to let go of Gan, but it wasn’t his place to be selfish and he quietly excused himself.
“She okay?” Cody asked in a whisper. Logan nodded, then looked down at the hand he’d held hers with. It still felt warm with her touch.
“Yeah, I think the crowd just became too much. Her head is still bothering her,” he said then finally looked up to his brother and felt pinned in place by his blue eyes.
“Are you okay?” the implications of the question nearly choked Logan and he broke eye contact.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, and he had a feeling Cody knew he was lying too. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be fine and what made this tangle of emotions worse was the slow understanding of why he felt as he did.
“Now, would you two want to go to the park with us? Gan and I would like to break in our new Crocs,” Felicity’s words broke him out of his stupor, and he looked up to the two women as they approached.
“Sounds like a great idea,” Cody chimed, no doubt excited by the idea of spending time with Felicity.
“Better than this musty mall,” Logan agreed. The two women moved past them, arm-in-arm, and though Gan still looked shaky, she did look much better. Without thinking he and his brother fell into pace behind them, to the nearest exit, and into unfiltered daylight.
“Hey,” Cody called for his attention and motioned to hand over Gan’s Croc bag and pink drink. Logan reached for them but not before he was tagged by the cold, wet, cup of the other drink Cody held. He jumped and shrank away while Cody grinned like a possum. Gan chuckled too and Logan met her eyes as he finally took her things from Cody. “Thank you,” she mouthed, and heat flushed his cheeks when she did.
Gan would be the end of him.
