The Fire Between High & Lo (Elements #2)(27)

He didn’t reply as I took him in.

I noticed the twitching first, followed by his impaired coordination. He frantically scratched at his skin and kept licking his lips.

How far into the shadows did you drive tonight, Logan?

“Can I shower or somethin’? I couldn’t go home tonight.” He sniffled as he tried to widen his left eye, but it wouldn’t budge open.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Come on.”

I led him to my bathroom as he stumbled beside me. Once we made it, I shut the door behind us. I reached for a small cloth, soaking it in warm water as he sat on top of the toilet. As I started pressing it to his face, he hissed. “It’s fine,” he argued, pulling away.

“No. It’s not. You can’t open your eye.”

“But I can still see you.” His mouth hung open slightly before he went back to licking his lips. “Were you busy earlier?”

I blinked, not looking into his one open eye. I soaked the towel more. “Yeah.”

“Too busy to text?”

“Yeah, Lo. I’m sorry.” My breaths quickened as I eyed the exit. I needed a moment away.

“Hey,” he whispered, placing his finger under my chin, raising my stare to meet his one eye. “I’m okay.”

“Are you high?”

He hesitated, before laughing. “Fuck you for asking that, High. Look at my face. What do you think?”

I flinched. He never spoke to me in such a way, except for when he was almost completely down the rabbit hole. I should’ve answered his texts.

“I’m going to get some ice for your eye, okay? You can start the shower.” I stood up to leave, but he called after me.

“High?”

“Lo?”

He swallowed hard, and one tear fell from his eye which was shut. “I’m so f*cking sorry. I don’t know why I said that to you.”

I gave him a tight smile and hurried away.

My hands were shaking as I went to grab a baggie to put ice in for Logan. I’d never seen him so beaten up, or out of it before. What did your father do to you? Why was he such a monster?

“High?” I leaped at the sound of Logan’s voice behind me. Hairs stood up on my arms as I turned to see him holding something in his hand. “What’s this?”

“Oh my gosh. Logan, I wanted to talk to you about that.” I stared at the pregnancy test in his hand, one that must’ve been left behind in the bathroom earlier that afternoon.

“What do two pink lines mean?” he asked, hardly able to hold himself up and he swayed.

You’re too far gone for this talk tonight. “We should talk tomorrow,” I offered, approaching him to place my hand on his shoulder. He yanked himself away.

“No, we should talk about this now,” he said loudly.

“Lo, can you keep it down? My mom’s sleeping.”

“I don’t give a damn. Are you pregnant?”

“We shouldn’t do this tonight.”

“What’s going on?” was asked behind me. I cringed, seeing Mom walk into the kitchen wearing her robe. When her tired eyes locked with Logan’s she grew fully awake. “What are you doing here? You need to leave, now.”

“Mom, come on,” I begged, seeing the hate in her eyes.

“Jesus Christ. Can’t you see we’re h-h-having a f*cking t-t-talk?” Logan slurred.

That wasn’t helping the situation.

Mom hurried over to him, grabbing his arm. “You are trespassing. Leave before I call the cops.”

He yanked his arm away from her, stumbling backwards, hitting the fridge. “Don’t touch me. I’m talking to your daughter.”

Mom’s eyes shot over to me. “And this is exactly why we are going to have the abortion. He’s a mess.”

Logan stood up as straight as he could, his eyes wide with disgust. “Abortion? You’re having an abortion?”

My body was shaking, my eyes glassed over. “No. Wait. Mom, stop. You’re not helping.”

“You really spoke about an abortion?” Logan asked again.

“We are getting it on Thursday. I already called to set it up,” Mom said, which was a lie. I was eighteen and had the right to do what I wanted with my body, not what my mother found fit.

Logan let out a low breath. “Wow. So you were gonna do this without talking to me? You don’t think I’d be a good dad or something?”

Mom laughed sarcastically.

Again, not helping.

“That’s not what I said, Lo.”

“That is what you said! That’s what you meant!” he hollered, his eyes dull, as if the light I loved so much in him had been sucked from his entire existence.

“You’re not listening to me because you’re high, Logan.”

“Which isn’t anything new,” Mom muttered under her breath, disgust stinging her words.

“Mom, will you stop?” I begged.

“No. She’s right. I’m always high, right? That’s all you people think of me,” he said, gesturing toward Mom and me. “You and all your f*cking money in your big ass house with no f*cking struggles.” As he stumbled around, he accidentally knocked over our knife set, sending them across the floor. Both Mom and I jumped out of fright.