The Fire Between High & Lo
Page 6
“Plates?” I offered.
“Just a fork,” he replied.
Grabbing a fork, I jumped on the countertop beside him. He took the fork, scooped up a large piece of pie, and held it out toward me. I willingly took a bite, closed my eyes, and fell in love.
Gosh.
He was the best cook. I wasn’t certain of it, but I doubted many people could pull off a goat cheese and honey pie. Logan not only pulled it off, he gave life to it. It was creamy, fresh, totally delish.
I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, waiting for another bite, which he gave me. “Mmm,” I lightly sighed.
“Are you moaning over my pie?”
“I’m definitely moaning over your pie.”
“Open your mouth. I want to hear you do it again.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re being weird again.” He smiled. I loved that smile. So much of his life involved frowns, that whenever he smiled, I learned to cherish that moment. He scooped up a piece of the pie and hovered it by my lips. He started making plane noises, moving the spoon as if it were flying through the air. I tried my best not to laugh, but I did. Then I opened my mouth, and the plane landed. “Mmm,” I moaned.
“You are such a good moaner.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that,” I mocked him.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’d have zero dollars and zero cents,” he mocked back.
“You’re a jerk.”
“Just to be clear, if there are any guys calling you a good moaner other than me, jokingly, I’ll kill them.”
He always said he’d kill any boy who looked my way, and a big part of why my relationships never worked out probably had something to do with that fact—they were all deathly afraid of Logan Francis Silverstone. I didn’t get the fear, though. To me, he was just a big teddy bear.
“This is the best thing I’ve eaten all day. It’s so good that I want to frame the fork.”
“That good?” he smirked, a heavy amount of pride running through him.
“That good,” I said. “You should really think about going to culinary school like we talked about before. You would be amazing.”
He huffed, a slight frown finding him. “College isn’t for me.”
“It could be, though.”
“Next subject,” he said, scrunching his nose. I wouldn’t push it. I knew that the subject was a touchy one for him. He didn’t think he was smart enough to ever get into any kind of school, but that wasn’t the truth. Logan was one of the smartest people I knew. If only he saw himself the way I saw him, his life would change forever.
Stealing the fork from his grip, I scooped more into my mouth, moaning loudly, to make the conversation much lighter. He smiled again. Good. “I’m seriously so happy you brought this, Lo. I’ve actually hardly eaten all day. My mom said I needed to lose twenty pounds before I start college in the fall, because I’m in danger of the freshman thirty.”
“I thought it was the freshman fifteen?”
“Mom said since I was already overweight, that it would turn out to be even more than the average student. You know, she loves me like that.”
He dramatically rolled his eyes. “What a sweetheart.”
“I’m not supposed to eat after eight at night.”
“Luckily, it’s past four in the morning, so it’s a new day! We must eat all the pie before eight!”
I giggled, quickly covering his mouth with my hands to keep him from shouting anymore. I felt his lips lightly kiss the palms of my hands, and my heart skipped once. I pulled my hands away slowly, feeling the butterflies forming, and cleared my throat. “It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”
We did it too; we ate the whole thing. As I went to clean the fork in the sink, he grabbed my hand. “No, we can’t clean it. We have to frame it, remember?” As his hands held mine, my heart skipped twice.
Our eyes met, and he stepped closer. “And just so you know, you’re beautiful the way you are, Aly. Screw your mom’s opinion. I think you’re beautiful. Not just in the superficial ways that fade over time, but I mean in every way possible. You’re just a beautiful fucking person, so screw other people’s thoughts. You know how I feel about people.”
I nodded, knowing his motto by heart. “Fuck people, get a pet.”
“That’s right,” he smirked, releasing his hold on my hand. I missed his touch before it even left. He began yawning, which distracted me from my erratic heartbeats.
“Tired?” I asked.
“I could sleep.”
“You’ll have to be gone before my mom wakes up.”
“Aren’t I always?”
We went into my bedroom. I gave him a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that I had stolen from him a few weeks ago. After he changed, we climbed into my bed and lay side by side. I’d never slept in the same bed with a boy before, other than Logan. Sometimes, when we slept, I’d awaken with my head on his chest, and before I pulled away, I’d listen to his heartbeats. He was a heavy breather, who inhaled and exhaled through his mouth. The first time he stayed over, I didn’t sleep a wink. Yet as time went by, his sounds began to remind me of home. As it turned out, home wasn’t a certain place; home was a feeling from the ones for whom you cared most, a feeling of peace that calmed the wildfires of your soul.
“Still tired?” I asked, as we lay in the darkness, my mind still wide awake.
“Yeah, but we can talk.”
“I’ve just been wondering. You’ve never explained to me why you love documentaries so much.”
He brushed his hands through his hair before placing his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. “One summer, I stayed with my Grandpa before he died. He had this documentary on the galaxy that got me hooked on wanting to know more about…everything. I wished I remembered the name of the documentary because I’d buy it in a heartbeat. It was like black hole…or black star…” He frowned. “I don’t know. Anyway. He and I started watching more and more documentaries together; it became our thing. It was the best summer of my life.” A wave of sadness seemed to hit him as he glanced down. “After he died, I just kept up the tradition. It’s probably one of the only traditions that I’d ever had.”
“You know a lot about the stars?”
“Just a fork,” he replied.
Grabbing a fork, I jumped on the countertop beside him. He took the fork, scooped up a large piece of pie, and held it out toward me. I willingly took a bite, closed my eyes, and fell in love.
Gosh.
He was the best cook. I wasn’t certain of it, but I doubted many people could pull off a goat cheese and honey pie. Logan not only pulled it off, he gave life to it. It was creamy, fresh, totally delish.
I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, waiting for another bite, which he gave me. “Mmm,” I lightly sighed.
“Are you moaning over my pie?”
“I’m definitely moaning over your pie.”
“Open your mouth. I want to hear you do it again.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’re being weird again.” He smiled. I loved that smile. So much of his life involved frowns, that whenever he smiled, I learned to cherish that moment. He scooped up a piece of the pie and hovered it by my lips. He started making plane noises, moving the spoon as if it were flying through the air. I tried my best not to laugh, but I did. Then I opened my mouth, and the plane landed. “Mmm,” I moaned.
“You are such a good moaner.”
“If I had a dollar for every time I heard that,” I mocked him.
He narrowed his eyes. “You’d have zero dollars and zero cents,” he mocked back.
“You’re a jerk.”
“Just to be clear, if there are any guys calling you a good moaner other than me, jokingly, I’ll kill them.”
He always said he’d kill any boy who looked my way, and a big part of why my relationships never worked out probably had something to do with that fact—they were all deathly afraid of Logan Francis Silverstone. I didn’t get the fear, though. To me, he was just a big teddy bear.
“This is the best thing I’ve eaten all day. It’s so good that I want to frame the fork.”
“That good?” he smirked, a heavy amount of pride running through him.
“That good,” I said. “You should really think about going to culinary school like we talked about before. You would be amazing.”
He huffed, a slight frown finding him. “College isn’t for me.”
“It could be, though.”
“Next subject,” he said, scrunching his nose. I wouldn’t push it. I knew that the subject was a touchy one for him. He didn’t think he was smart enough to ever get into any kind of school, but that wasn’t the truth. Logan was one of the smartest people I knew. If only he saw himself the way I saw him, his life would change forever.
Stealing the fork from his grip, I scooped more into my mouth, moaning loudly, to make the conversation much lighter. He smiled again. Good. “I’m seriously so happy you brought this, Lo. I’ve actually hardly eaten all day. My mom said I needed to lose twenty pounds before I start college in the fall, because I’m in danger of the freshman thirty.”
“I thought it was the freshman fifteen?”
“Mom said since I was already overweight, that it would turn out to be even more than the average student. You know, she loves me like that.”
He dramatically rolled his eyes. “What a sweetheart.”
“I’m not supposed to eat after eight at night.”
“Luckily, it’s past four in the morning, so it’s a new day! We must eat all the pie before eight!”
I giggled, quickly covering his mouth with my hands to keep him from shouting anymore. I felt his lips lightly kiss the palms of my hands, and my heart skipped once. I pulled my hands away slowly, feeling the butterflies forming, and cleared my throat. “It’s a tough job, but someone has to do it.”
We did it too; we ate the whole thing. As I went to clean the fork in the sink, he grabbed my hand. “No, we can’t clean it. We have to frame it, remember?” As his hands held mine, my heart skipped twice.
Our eyes met, and he stepped closer. “And just so you know, you’re beautiful the way you are, Aly. Screw your mom’s opinion. I think you’re beautiful. Not just in the superficial ways that fade over time, but I mean in every way possible. You’re just a beautiful fucking person, so screw other people’s thoughts. You know how I feel about people.”
I nodded, knowing his motto by heart. “Fuck people, get a pet.”
“That’s right,” he smirked, releasing his hold on my hand. I missed his touch before it even left. He began yawning, which distracted me from my erratic heartbeats.
“Tired?” I asked.
“I could sleep.”
“You’ll have to be gone before my mom wakes up.”
“Aren’t I always?”
We went into my bedroom. I gave him a pair of sweatpants and a shirt that I had stolen from him a few weeks ago. After he changed, we climbed into my bed and lay side by side. I’d never slept in the same bed with a boy before, other than Logan. Sometimes, when we slept, I’d awaken with my head on his chest, and before I pulled away, I’d listen to his heartbeats. He was a heavy breather, who inhaled and exhaled through his mouth. The first time he stayed over, I didn’t sleep a wink. Yet as time went by, his sounds began to remind me of home. As it turned out, home wasn’t a certain place; home was a feeling from the ones for whom you cared most, a feeling of peace that calmed the wildfires of your soul.
“Still tired?” I asked, as we lay in the darkness, my mind still wide awake.
“Yeah, but we can talk.”
“I’ve just been wondering. You’ve never explained to me why you love documentaries so much.”
He brushed his hands through his hair before placing his hands behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. “One summer, I stayed with my Grandpa before he died. He had this documentary on the galaxy that got me hooked on wanting to know more about…everything. I wished I remembered the name of the documentary because I’d buy it in a heartbeat. It was like black hole…or black star…” He frowned. “I don’t know. Anyway. He and I started watching more and more documentaries together; it became our thing. It was the best summer of my life.” A wave of sadness seemed to hit him as he glanced down. “After he died, I just kept up the tradition. It’s probably one of the only traditions that I’d ever had.”
“You know a lot about the stars?”
