“Because you left for Florida?” he askshesitantly.
“No, becauseyouleft.”
He’s silent, and I know he’s probably trying to remember what happened thatnight.
I cross my arms over my chest, hating how vulnerable this makes me feel, but I promised myself on the bus home that I’d be honest about what happened. That I’d be brave. “We were supposed to take photos. You said you wanted a pic of the two of us, so I tagged along.” Likealways.
I held everyone’s coats while they took photos. At the time, I didn’t mind. I love the Carters, and it’s not like I’m officially part of their family. I didn’t expect to be asked to take a photo with the whole clan, but I thought Logan wanted one of the two ofus.
“The whole night you were texting someone, and then you disappeared, wandered down from where we were to make a call.” Pausing to take a breath, I turn to look him in the eye. “The photographer left while you were gone. We never took our photo. And then I heard what yousaid.”
Sad, pathetic Joey was heartbroken Logan hadn’t bothered to remember thephoto.
The space between his eyebrows tightens, but I can’t tell if he’s stillclueless.
“On the phone. I heard your conversation.I hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop, but your mom asked me to get you, and Iheard.”
His expression doesn’t change, and I groan, upset I have to say the rest out loud and annoyed I didn’t push him in the river at the time. “Iheardyou say I needed to get a life. That you were tired of dealing with me. That I exhaustedyou.”
“What are you talking about, Josephine?” He looks completely perplexed, like I’m speaking a foreign language. “I’ve never, not once, thought that, much less said that. Even when you were this tall and needed piggy back rides across waist-high grass because you were afraid of the snakes. How many summers did I carry you across Mr. Johnson’sfield?”
A reluctant smile tugs across my lips even though Logan does not look amused. “You did carryme.”
“Damn straight, I did. Every fucking time, Jojo. Every time.” He grips my shoulders. “And I’ve never complained or felt the need to. Do you knowwhy?”
I shake myhead.
“Because I love having youaround.”
At first, I don’t say anything. I can’t. Emotion chokes my throat, and I have to blink back the crazy fountain that wants to erupt from myeyeballs.
“So you weren’t talking aboutme?”
“No, dummy.” He hugs me so tightly, Ilaugh.
“So… Imisunderstood?”
“Yes.” He tilts my head up and stares back at me with such intensity, my heart catapults itself into the sand dunes. “And I hate that you thought I said that aboutyou.”
Tears stream down my face despite my best attempt to keep them back. His rough thumbs wipe themaway.
“Aww, Bitsy. You had such a shitty week and then you thought I said that? And I flaked on our holiday photos?” His eyes squeeze shut, like it’s coming back to him. “Wait. We were supposed to hang out after, but I took off… Fuck. Iamanasshole.”
I’m in his arms again, grateful I’ve said my piece and feeling foolish I misunderstood on such a huge scale, even though he was being a self-absorbed douchecanoe that night, but one thing still doesn’t makesense.
Sniffing, I tilt my head. “Who were you talkingabout?”
“Uh…What?”
“If you weren’t talking about me, who were you talkingabout?”
“Oh, um.” He lets go of me to rub the side of his neck. Awkward silence stretches between us. “Just some femaledrama.”
My eyesnarrow.
Last fall, I thought he and I had gotten closer. I thoughtmaybehe was seeing me as something more than his sidekick, but I was obviously hallucinating if he was having “femaledrama.”
I nod and take another stepaway.
