Page 38 of Attractive Forces
I stare at their joined hands, a lump rising in my throat.
As they make their way onto the dance floor, Jennifer has a huge smile, like she’s the luckiest girl in the world.
Which she kind of is.
Does she realize how much more Logan is than what he seems? Does she fully appreciate him? Can she see past the rugby captain to who he really is underneath?
I can’t tear my eyes away as they circle together in the middle of the room, other couples joining in. One of Logan’s hands is on Jennifer’s shoulder, and the other is nestled into the small of her back.
Chloe sidles up to me as I’m standing there.
“So, are you actually planning to dance, or just be the ultimate teenage cliché and stare wistfully at the popular kids having all of the fun?”
“I don’t really dance,” I say.
“Everyone dances, Jake. Some just do it better than others.”
“Yeah, well, I’m definitely on the not-good side of that equation.”
“I’ll let you stand there and sway if you like.”
“I’m not in the mood. Sorry.”
There’s silence for a moment. The song changes into something more up-tempo.
Chloe turns to look at me. “So, I’m just trying to work out what your little obsession with Logan is all about,” she says casually.
My breath hitches. “What?”
She shrugs. “You can’t stop looking at him. I’m just trying to figure out whether you want tobehim or…”
My mouth dry, I manage to keep her gaze. “Or what?”
“Or whether you want to take Jennifer’s place andbe withhim.”
The stare she gives me is like she’s attempting an audit of my soul.
Shit. If Chloe’s picked it up, does that mean Logan has too? Is that what he was trying to tell me earlier?
Chloe’s still watching me expectantly.
“I think they must have spiked the punch if you’re coming up with theories like that,” I say eventually.
Chloe looks strangely disappointed. “Yeah, whatever, Jake.”
I look back at the dance floor, feeling almost dizzy.
I can’t do it anymore.
I need to get away.
Away from Logan and Jennifer dancing. Away from Chloe’s knowing gaze.
“I’m going to get some air,” I mutter.
I push my way through the crowd, bumping shoulders as I walk. Everyone’s laughing, talking, happy. I’m in my own little bubble of misery.
The cool air slaps me in the face as I walk out the door, but it doesn’t break my misery bubble.
