Page 98 of To Love or to Lose
“Get used to it, Hart.” I unwind the shirt, realizing it’s the exact one I have been in my closet looking for. I look up at Briar with a confused expression, feeling as if she read my mind.
All she does is smile.
A little while after Winnie, Eloise, and I got to Jameson’s birthday party, Logan found us within the crowd. Soon after that, Logan and I somehow ended up alone in the kitchen to get drinks.
I’m not a partier, mostly because I spend most of my time with Winnie, and she’s under a contract with her ballet studio that prohibits dangerous activities. She didn’t want to party out of fear of getting hurt and breaking her contract, and I didn’t want to party because it wouldn’t be with Winnie.
Taking my school workload into consideration, parties have never been at the top of my priorities list.
We enter the kitchen. Logan grabs one of the red solo cups and labels it with a marker before he makes me a drink with the unopened bottles from the fridge.
“You didn’t have to open those when there are already open ones out,” I tell him, even though I’m secretly grateful he did.
Logan shrugs. “There is a one hundred percent chance people have put their mouths on the already-opened bottles, and I don’t want you to be grossed out.”
“Thank you.”
“Here.” He hands me the solo cup containing his finished product. “Now, go have fun. Please.”
I look around the party. Everyone is drinking and dancing to the loud music. People are congregating too close for my liking, and in layman’s terms, this is just so far from my scene that I have no clue what to do.
Logan walks out of the kitchen, but I quickly reach out to grab his arm.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
He turns back to face me, his arm falling from my grasp. “I’m going to find Jameson. It is his birthday, after all.”
“What did you get him?”
Logan is known in our friend group as being the best gift giver. Not only because he has the money to buy dream gifts but also because he pays attention.He’s sweet like that. He remembers things people tell him, or point out to him, and I know it makes him feel good to show that he cares.
Last year for my birthday, Logan got me a Chanel purse I had been eying for months.It was what most of my search history comprised, and I had been debating buying it for myself for quite some time.
Then, I opened it on my birthday, and when I looked up from the bag in my hands with tears welling in my eyes, Logan was grinning from ear to ear.
“He didn’t want anything super big, but I did get him this super cool painting he was talking about when we visited the gallery a few weeks ago,” he responds, not seeming overly impressed with himself. “Plus, I threw him this party.”
“You two went to the art gallery?” He never mentioned that.
“Yeah, one closer to Hartford, the painting I got him was one that was on auction there. Anyway,” Logan says. “Do you want to come with me?”
“To go find Jameson?” He has to be kidding.
“I know you don’t want to be around all of us right now, but Jameson had nothing to do with you not knowing about the party.” Logan tries to convince me.
He’s right; Jameson has done nothing wrong in this situation, and the least I can do after all our bickering is wish him a happy birthday.
I reluctantly agree. “Okay.”
“Great.” Logan makes his way through the masses of people. “The last place I saw him was out by the firepit.”
The sliding glass door has been left open, making it easier for people to get in and out of the house while also allowing for some ventilation.
“Jameson!” Logan calls out before I even see him. I see a head turn, and I know it’s him.
He’s the only one wearing the large gold sash that says, “IT’S MY BIRTHDAY.”
It’s kind of a dead giveaway, even if I didn’t already know what he looks like.
