Mixed Signals
The next day, Logan was everywhere. In class, he sat closer than usual, his knee brushing mine under the desk. He passed me notes, his scribbled jokes making me smile despite myself. Every time I thought I could ignore him, he’d catch my eye and smirk, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
But then there was Vanessa.
I saw them together after school, her arm hooked through his as they walked toward the parking lot. She was laughing at something he said, her perfectly white teeth on display. My chest tightened as I watched them, jealousy coiling hot and sharp in my stomach.
“Don’t let him get to you,” Sarah, my best friend, said, nudging me.
“I’m not,” I lied, though I couldn’t look away.
“You know how Logan is,” Sarah continued. “He’s a flirt. Don’t read into it.”
But it wasn’t just flirting. I could feel the weight of his attention when he was around me, the way his teasing felt personal, intimate.
***
By the time the final bell rang, I couldn’t take it anymore. I found him leaning against his locker, his phone in hand.
“Logan, can we talk?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.
He looked up, his smirk fading. “Sure. What’s up?”
I hesitated, my frustration bubbling over. “What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“With me,” I said, gesturing between us. “You act like you’re interested one minute, and then you’re with Vanessa the next. What do you want from me?”
Logan’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—amusement, maybe, or challenge.
“What do you think I want?” he asked, his voice low.
I clenched my fists, the heat rising in my cheeks. “I don’t know, Logan. You’re sending mixed signals, and I don’t have time to—”
I turned to walk away, but his hand shot out, catching my wrist.
“Are you jealous, Em?” he asked, his tone light but his grip firm. “Because if you are, you’d better say it.”
