Page 1 of The Obsession

Part One

boy meets girl

Chapter One

Logan

Ms. Taylor gave me a smile, the kind I’d secretly dubbed the Soothing Guidance Counselor Smile. She wore it the way she wore her soft cardigan, a conscious choice made to put “problem students” like myself at ease.

“How was your summer, Logan?”

“Fine.” My summer had been spent in a haze of Netflix and scrolling through pictures of Sophie until inky night gave way to watery sunlight and my brain felt like it was about to dribble out of my ears. “It was great, actually. I got lots of rest.” My voice came out thick and slow. Maybe because I hadn’t been sleeping well and always felt like I was groping my way through a fog. Maybe because I had a permanent lump in my throat.

“That’s wonderful to hear, Logan.”

Why did she always have to say my name at the end of every sentence?

“Are you feeling prepared for the new semester, Logan?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m ready to join the team again.”

Ms. Taylor’s smile lost some wattage. “Let’s come back to lacrosse later, after our chat.”

I tried to find the familiar anger, the old gunpowder barrel of energy that would wrench me out of this murk and make me feel something. It was there, I knew it was. I could feel it lurking at the edges, reaching out for me. But I was so tired.

Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if I cared about getting back on the team. But Dad said what I really needed was to get back to sports. Get a good sweat going, thrash it out on the field, like if I could only run hard enough, I’d be able to outrun Sophie’s ghost.

“When we talked last spring, you were going through a really challenging time.”

I winced at the memory of my last session with Ms. Taylor. I’d been consumed by rage then. I’d called her a bitch and then something worse, and she’d sat there silently, looking very disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.

Ms. Taylor smiled. “Thank you, Logan. I appreciate that. How are you feeling about being back at Draycott?”

Like I was thrust into a graveyard. Ghosts everywhere. But I had to move on. Sophie would’ve wanted me to move on. “I’m fine, really. I was just kind of derailed by my classmate’s death. Made me question my own mortality or whatever.” How ridiculous to refer to the love of my life as myclassmate, like we were strangers who passed each other in the hall.

Ms. Taylor gave me a sympathetic grimace. “I understand.”

No, you fucking don’t.No one knew Sophie like I did. No one had any idea how her death had completely devastated my life. We never dated, not officially, but our love was the real deal. Nobody understood, though. “She’s leading you on,” they told me, but they didn’t know what Sophie was like when it was just us.

I tuned out the next few minutes as Ms. Taylor rambled on about how she expected great and wonderful things from me and how she’d have a chat with Coach about letting me back on the team and how I totally would be allowed back as long as I pulled my grades up and didn’t mouth off to teachers again and behaved like a good little boy.

“You’ll be fine, Logan. I believe in you. You’re a good kid,” she said, getting up. “You’re going to do great things this semester, I know it.”

Her words stayed with me as I walked back to my dorm room.Do great things.It felt more like a threat than anything. Do great things, or get suspended again, maybe even expelled. Do great things, or get rejected by every college and be a loser for the rest of your life.

I checked my phone. I had close to an hour before the assembly. The early-morning sun was painting everything a golden hue. The lush, rolling fields, the ivy wrapped around Draycott Academy’s sandstone buildings—everything shone with warmth. Another slow wave of resentment. Before Sophie died, I would’ve stood still and taken it all in. I would’ve asked her to walk with me to the rose garden to admire the dewy flowers before telling her she was more beautiful than any rose. Now, beauty was wasted on me.

I trudged back to my room and got ready for class. But by the time I put on my navy-blue blazer, gathered all my books, and messed up my hair in just the right way, I was exhausted. I walked to the common room, where Josh was finishing up his coffee. He waved at me and smiled. Was his smile just the slightest bit strained? I tried my best to smile back like I meant it.

“Hey, man! How was your summer?” he asked, giving me a one-armed hug.

“It was okay. How was yours?”

Josh started yapping about how his folks had taken him and his sister to Bordeaux for the summer. Somehow, I managed to follow him out of the dorm.

Summer was still clinging to the air with sticky stubbornness, never mind the fact that it was already September and Draycott Academy was surrounded by lush, green Northern Californian hills. All around us were excited cries like, “Omigod, did you guys hook up over the break?” and “Did you see Jenna’s new boobs?” Groups of too-cool-to-care seniors and terrified freshman chattered and shriek-giggled, and I was so done with my schoolmates. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet, but my shirt was already sticking to my back with sweat.

---