Logan watched in bemusement as the girl in his arms winked at him before sighing loudly and turning—in his arms, because he wasn’t letting her go—to face their assailant.
“Kylie, sweetie. If you have to ask, then either you need to retake Mrs. Harding’s Sex Ed class again, or we weren’t doing it right.” She drawled. “And let me tell you now, it definitely wasn’t option number 2.”
The other girl gasped as she finally saw the speaker’s face for the first time. “Olivia! What are you doing here?”
“You mean besides the obvious?” Amelia said mockingly, leaning comfortably into Logan’s chest. “I am still technically a student here, Kylie, even if I am only here part time. You aren’t rid of me quite yet. And that means that I am still an upperclassman, and senior cheer captain, and I still maintain all of my current positions on yearbook and student council and everywhere else until senior ball this Saturday and graduation the following Wednesday.” She clicked her tongue. “Your minions didn’t do their research. So sloppy. I know I taught you better than that.”
“But—“ Kylie looked from Amelia to Logan, honest bewilderment in her face. “I thought that you and Logan—“
“You thought wrong.” Amelia said sharply. “So back off.” She narrowed her eyes, and her tone grew cold as the black girl still hesitated. “Kylie.”
“Oh, fine.” She sneered, before sending James a smoldering look. “I’ll see you around, Logan.”
He had no idea what to say, so remained silent as she stalked away, leaving the couple alone. The final bell rang, but Logan didn’t move.
Amelia stared blankly down the empty hallway for a moment, before slipping out of his arms. “Well,” she said briskly, all hints of the sultry girl that had melted in his arms earlier completely gone. “That was fun. Thanks.”
Logan watched in stunned bemusement, thrown instantly off balance once more as she ran a hand through her ebony hair, and straightened her clothes. Hello, cold shower. Shaking his head, he finally found his voice as she picked up her book bag. “Um, sure. Anytime?”
She smirked but didn’t reply, instead turning to walk away.
“Wait just a damn fucking minute.” The sudden anger rolled through him, hot and fast, and his hand shot out to grab her wrist. “You mind telling me what the hell just happened here? I’m a little late to this party, for all that I was apparently the unwitting guest of honor!”
She rolled her eyes, adjusting the strap on her bag with a sigh. “Nice. Has anyone ever told you that you talk like a forty year old man?”
“I can’t help it. All that stupid SAT prep inundated my brain.” He defended himself automatically, before scowling. “Amelia! Dammit, I know you’re not your sister!” She whirled back to face him.
Her jaw dropped. “You do? But–how?”
He licked his lips, still tasting her, his senses still filled with the lingering traces of her perfume, the feel of her silky skin. He wanted another taste.
“You tasted like raspberries and chocolate coffee. Olivia hates coffee.”
“Oh.” She seemed deflated for a moment, before she straightened and met his gaze defiantly.
“Look, I didn’t do it for you, okay? You were merely…at the right place at the right time.”
She couldn’t help the wry, self-mocking grin at the befuddled look on his face. “Sorry to disappoint you Golden Boy, but you were a means to an end, not the end itself.” She elaborated nonchalantly, patting him on the shoulder as she eased out of his arms.
Logan had the sudden disconcerting feeling that if she could’ve reached then she would’ve patted him on the head instead. Then her words sank in.
“What?” he sputtered.
“Oh, don’t worry. It was very nice.” She assured him, knowing she was teasing but not being able to help herself. “Definitely live up to rumor and all that. It’s just that Olivia is my twin sister, and I would do anything for her. I know you guys broke up, but we have another week to go for high school. Which means that the ballots are not in for senior ball royalty yet. You know that being Queen is a life goal of hers, just like you know that the majority of the girls here are fickle and petty and would change their vote just to spite her one last time.” She shook her head. “You’re also a shoo-in for King, which means that any girl linked with you romantically is almost guaranteed a boost in votes and rating. Politicians have nothing on ruthless teenage girls on a rampage, as Hollywood has shown us.” She muttered, before looking up at him beseechingly. “Today is Monday. Friday is our last day of high school, ever. Saturday is Senior Ball, and then we graduate. Livy will be back for third period; her last college final was this morning. Surely you can pretend to be in a relationship for two more days.”
Logan frowned at her, his mind on an entirely different track. “What if I was planning on asking someone else to Senior Ball?”
“Seriously? Why would you do that, and who is left that would go with you? We live in a small town, Logan Kingston. Our graduating class is made up of the same people we went to elementary with, for crying out loud.” She threw her hands up in the air. “You know what? I’m done trying to explain this to you. Either you do it, or you don’t.” She turned away. “You better hurry up and get your books before you’re late to class. Ole’ Eagle eye is probably on a rampage.”
Shouldering her bag, she walked away without a backwards glance as Logan stared after her.