No more Starbucks Mondays for me.
“I’m not hot,” Josephine replied, tugging self-consciously on the hem of her hoodie.
“Your red cheeks and sweat mustache would say otherwise,” I said, stopping my Farewell Citizens of Virginia Beach Tour to look at her completely. Nothing had changed in her appearance since our first encounter with the exception of her track pants. She must have been in the middle of practice too.
“Nice pants by the way. I love your school spirit,” I said with a smirk. I knew she hated that her participation in track mandated she wear Shepherd High clothing. Not exactly Ms. School Spirit, something about the purple and gold clashing with her love of black clothing.
“Wow. You really have a way with the ladies,” she said, wiping a hand against her upper lip.
“I do. I really do,” I said with a grin. I sat myself on a car whose hood was half crushed in. I didn’t stare too long at the hood before sitting down. The dent was about the size of a body. I didn’t want to know how the body got there, or how it disappeared.
“You are full of crap,” Josephine said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“Um. Not really. I’ve had a girlfriend for like two years now. And if I wasn’t dating Jenna, I could get some cheerleader or other willing Shepherd female to take her place. Maybe it’s arrogant of me to say that, but the truth is the truth.”
“Just because you could get some mindless girl to screw you in the back of your Ford doesn’t mean you have a way with women. It just means you happen to be good-looking, and those girls have a low self-esteem,” she replied, kicking at the dirt.
I placed my feet against the bumper and leaned my arms against my knees. “Those girls love me.”
“Oh. Wow. You don’t know a thing about love. There’s a difference between blind, stupid devotion and love.”
“I love Jenna.” There was no longer any note of amusement or teasing in my voice. It was the one truth I believed in with any longevity.
“You sure about that?”
She was back to pissing me off.
“Yeah,” I gruffed, “I’m sure about that.”
“What kind of things do you two talk about?” she asked, taking a step closer to me.
“I don’t know. Stuff. But we talk all the time.”
“What’s one thing she doesn’t like about you?”
“She loves me, Josephine. We don’t spend our time together talking about what we don’t like about each other.”
“But there are things you don’t like about her right?” she continued.
“What’s your point?” Besides finding reasons to convince me time and time again why my nickname for her wasn’t entirely undeserved.
“Truly loving someone is loving all of them. This includes all the things that drive you crazy about them. Because if you sit there and think Jenna Maples is perfect you don’t know her at all. No one is perfect. You could very well love the idea of her.”
“Am I supposed to understand anything you’re talking about? Because according to you, I can only love my girlfriend if I find her as annoying as hell. If we’re going by that I must be head over heels in love with you. I’ll break up with Jenna as soon as we get back. I just have to be with you.”
Josephine rolled her eyes. “Hilarious. I’m just saying I see it happen all the time. I spend a lot of time watching people, Logan. I see people get together all the time just because they need something from the other person, not because they really want to know them.”
“Well, that’s not how it is with me and Jenna,” I said, pushing myself off the car and walking away from Josephine.
I could hear her jogging to catch up with me. For some reason, her words really got under my skin. I didn’t like how she was always was assuming she knew everything about me and my life. I was frustrated that we seemed to be getting nowhere. What was the point of this shifting? Was it a big F U from whoever was in charge of this—a sign we wouldn’t be able to change anything? Were we just going to have to wait for it all to occur, not being able to tell a single soul?
Why didn’t I tell Jenna? I wasn’t given a rule book. As far as I knew nothing would happen if I told her with the exception of her thinking I had taken one too many hits to the head during football.
“I’m sorry, Logan,” Josephine called to me.
I kept walking. I wanted to be back in my own world, the world where I could be with my girlfriend and go on ignoring the girl behind me.
“Logan. Calm on, don’t get all pissy on me.”
I turned on her. “How would you know anything about love? I don’t see the boys lining up for you.” Though they might if the rumors of her wild sexual appetite continued.