junkie, Grams’s second chance, the street hustler for Ricky, the pet project for Linus. I don’t have a clue who I am. Do you think normal people ever feel like us? Like we’re so busy being what everyone in our lives say we are that we never have a chance to be anything else?”
“Who are normal people?” I ask.
“Not us.”
Not us.
“Truth?” she asks.
I squeeze her fingers. “Truth.”
“I like who I am more around all of you then I ever liked myself before. Sort of like I had been trying out other people’s skin like a girl trying on clothes. The person I was before I met any of you, the person I am when I’m not around any of you feels too tight, too scratchy, too irritating. But when I hang with any of you, it’s like I can breathe.”
That’s a big statement for Abby and I’m dumbfounded as to what to say. Instead, I gently pull on her hand until she tilts her body so that we’re facing each other.
“Bigger truth?” she whispers.
“Bigger truth.”
“I really, really like who I am when I’m around you.”
I tuck her hair behind her ear and enjoy the silky strands as they fall from my fingers. For months I ignored the truth, gave what was brewing between me and Abby other labels—attraction, friendship, playing around, lust.
While Abby definitely takes my breath away every time she walks into a room, there’s always been more between us and it’s time to man up. “Abby, I’m in love with you.”
Abby
I can’t breathe.
Logan’s in love with me. With me. And he knows all my dirty secrets. Not just the slightly-coated-with-dust secrets. The real deep muddy ones. The secrets that are so crusted over that they’re cemented into my soul. He knows all of these things, but he loves me anyhow.
“People don’t love me,” I whisper. Fear me. Leave me. Hate me. Use me. But love? Grams loved me but she left me mentally a long time ago and my father...I was the closest he had to experiencing emotion.
“I do.”
My heart thunders. “Normal people don’t love me.”
Logan’s mouth twitches into a somewhat smile. “Guess it’s good I’m crazy.”
I sock him in the shoulder. “I’m serious.”
“I am, too.”
“On being crazy?”
“Yeah and on the loving you.”
I sit up. “Will you stop saying that?”
“What, that I love you?”
“Yes!” I shriek. “That.”
“Why?”
“Because what if you don’t mean it? What if you think you love me and you don’t?”
“I can’t say I have much experience in all this, but I’ve seen a lot of what love isn’t in my life and maybe that’s enough to figure out what it is.”
There’s a trembling inside me that keeps building in intensity and it’s like being on a countdown until I explode. With shaking hands, I touch Logan’s face, confirming he’s real. That this is real. His skin is warm, rough from the slight evening stubble.
“You love me?” I say, trying out the words.
“I love you.”
He loves me.
I stare at him and he only stares back. I’ve had boys touch me before, but it wasn’t because they cared. I had people tell me they’re my friends before, but it’s only because they wanted something I had. I had a mother before, and she sold me for drugs. I had a father, but I was more of a highly valued possession that he liked to admire from the other side of a glass case. I had Grams and I lost her before her body drifted away.
I don’t understand love very well and I don’t understand why someone would give it so freely.
“Stop searching for an angle, Abby. You won’t find one.”
I lace my fingers in my hair and slightly pull until there’s pain at the roots. None of this makes sense. I know how I feel for him, but for him to feel this way for me?
My forehead wrinkles as I try to solve this problem. When I open my mouth to argue with him again, Logan leans in and kisses me.
His mouth is warm, soft, just a tiny bit rough on the edges and electricity shoots through my veins. Starting my heart, waking my soul, making me warm in all the right places. Logan twists my hair around his fingers and right as I’m about to touch him, Logan pulls away and meets my gaze. “I love you.”
I incline my head to argue again and Logan once again leans in. This time he takes my lower lip into his and when he releases it, he