-9-

"Logan," Martha said as I was walking through the kitchen. "No funny business today. Since Brianne and Jason are leaving tomorrow, we're taking group pictures today."

I groaned.

"Don't act all exasperated! And for goodness' sake! Go comb your hair!"

I just combed my hair to the side with my fingers. She should be glad I took a shower before Xavier kept me up all night. Because of that, I wasn't in a very good mood. When I managed to go to sleep, I dreamt of caterpillars dancing to Mozart's Requiem in D Minor. It really was quite scary.

"Logan," Stacey said behind me. I turned around.

I was stunned to see that her hair was actually...brushed, I guess. I mean I'm sure she brushed it everyday anyway, but I never realized how she kept it casual until now, when it was perfectly straightened and neat. She probably had makeup on, too, because her eyes looked twice as scary today.

"Are we going to make cookies today, then?" she asked.

I looked at Martha. "Do you mind if we use your kitchen to make cookies for the kids?" I asked.

"Hmm," she said. "I'd be just fine if you shared. But wait until after the pictures. Now come on, we're taking them in front of the old shed."

We gathered out back where most people were already waiting.

"Okay!" Martha clapped. "We're going individual families first! Trust me, you'll be glad to have these. They're fun to look back on. Pamela, gather your family."

Pamela and Bob walked up, followed by Stacey, Jake, Kayla, and Kyle. Martha organized them so they looked nice, with the tall people in the back and the kids at just the right angles and whatnot.

I sat down on the grass while Martha snapped pictures of the Cass family. Xavier came and sat next to me, his sisters following a few seconds later. We all sat facing each other.

"You know, Logan," Utopia said. "There's something we need to tell you."

"Yeah," Evita pitched in. "We figured we should clear the air, because we're leaving tomorrow."

"Okay," I said.

"Carla was in love with you," Utopia whispered.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Every time we came to Martha's house she took pictures of you and then at home she made us cut them into hearts with her and then tape them to her wall. We finished the whole wall and even had to start a new one."

I stared blankly. There's no way this was a secret.

"It's even still there," Xavier said. "Mom thought it was the cutest thing but now the door is always closed."

"Um." I cleared my throat. "What else did Carla do at home? Involving me?"

"Ah, let's see." Utopia paused to think.

"She would tell us a story sometimes," Evita broke in. "She said you and her would get married one day. You would have six kids. She wanted to have more than your mom had to show how much she loved you. And you were going to have a cute two story house over there in Ohio where you live, because she could never ask you to move away from your home. Then you'd have thirty six grandchildren and live happily ever after."

The tired part of me started to take over and I felt angry. Who did Carla think she was to violate my personal space? It's probably illegal to take pictures of someone like that. I mean, I consider myself a pretty decent looking guy, but there's no way I looked awesome in every single picture. And then acting as if she owned my future.... Honestly, if she'd lived, she'd be disappointed. Why would I take a liking to someone so creepy?
I mentally slapped myself. Negative thoughts don't help anyone, I told myself for the umpteenth time. Still, when a guy was tired, he was tired.

Martha made our family go next. My parents got to sit on stools (lucky them) while Anthony, Lily, and I stood behind them, with Anna and Preston in the front. It couldn't have looked that good, because Anthony and I basically looked then same (him being a little thicker, but you know) and everyone of us had the exact same dark brown hair and brown eyes, and then there's mom. Her blond hair would stick out like a sore thumb. Speaking of which, what makes a sore thumb so noticeable, anyway? If my thumb hurt, I doubt anyone would notice.

Nevertheless, we got our picture taken. After all of the family pictures, we had to get a big group picture. It was really testing my patience. I probably had bags under my eyes, anyway, so the picture would be downgraded a smidgen.

Stacey found me when that was all over with. "Are we still on for making cookies?"

I yawned and nodded.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired."

I found the triplets. "Hey guys. Stacey had a great idea!" I tried to sound upbeat, but I know my lack of sleep was a little obvious.

"Oh really?" Utopia folded her arms.

"Yeah. You guys like making cookies, right?"

"Stacey wants to make cookies with us?" Evita's eyes sparkled.

"Yeah. Sound good?"

"Yay!"

We headed toward the house.

"Thanks," Stacey whispered. "Even though it was your idea."

"Hey, if they're gonna leave, they shouldn't leave hating you."

She gave me a wry smile. She could tell I was acting differently. I hoped I didn't sound rude or anything.

The moment we began pulling out ingredients, Anna walked in. "You're making cookies without me?" she exclaimed at the sight of me holding the bottle of vanilla extract. She'd made cookies with me enough times to be able to tell when it was happening.

"You can help," Stacey said.

Anna came right into the kitchen and began filling measuring cups with flour. That's what I always had her do.
Then, Presley walked in with Kyle and Patrick.

"Hey," Presley said, "you're making cookies."

"We already have enough people," I said.

"But I want to help," he protested.

"Does it look like there's room?" I snapped. My head was starting to hurt from the lack of sleep.

"There's always room for more help, Logan," he said. "You always tell me that."

"Yeah Loganberry," Stacey agreed, choosing the worst moment to pitch in. I glared at her.

"I kind of want to help, too," Kyle said quietly.

"See?" Presley said. "Can't we do it since the triplets are all leaving tomorrow?"

"You guys have hardly talked to them all week, and now you're suddenly interested?"

"It's okay," Anna said. "Just let them help."

I rolled me eyes and allowed the three boys to come into the kitchen.

Stacey tried to start a conversation. "So what classes do you take at school, Logan?"

"Does it really matter?"

She didn't say anything.

Soon, the kids started arguing.

"I was gonna pour the sugar in!" Patrick complained.

"No, I wanted to first!" Xavier said.

"But what about me?" Evita.

"I also want to pour in sugar." Utopia.

"But I have the sugar, so I'm gonna do it!" Patrick said.

"It's my last day!" Xavier's voice rose.

"It's my house!" Patrick was yelling at this point, and my head was pounding.

"Don't fight!" Anna tried to yell louder than boys.

"XAVIER STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO SPILL IT!"

"GIVE IT TO ME!"

"DON'T FIGHT!"

"Guys," Stacey said. "We need three cups of sugar. You'll both get a turn."

Patrick just yanked the cup of sugar from Xavier's grasp, resulting in it spilling all over the floor. He stormed out of the room just like a little kid. I stuck my tongue out at him...just like an even younger kid.

"Who wants to sweep that up?" Stacey asked.

"Maybe you should," I suggested, but it came out sounding much more mean than I'd wanted it to.

A look of hurt passed over Stacey's face. "Fine." She left the room to find a broom.

"Logan," Anna said. She looked...offended. "I thought you said we were supposed to be nice to Stacey."

I turned and left the house.

»»»»»«««««

I tried to climb the tree again. I wanted to be able to clear my mind where no one could reach me.

I made it up, a little easier than the last time. My phone slipped out of my pocket on the way up, but that was a minor problem.

I sat up there for who knows how long. I almost fell asleep, but luckily Evita's voice stimulated my ears.

"Logan?"

"What?" My head was leaning against a branch and I didn't try to look down at her.

"Stacey's wondering if you're coming back."

"She doesn't need me there."

"But we want to hang out with you because we're leaving."

"Come and find me after, okay? I'm not feeling well."

"Are you sure?" She sounded sad.

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"I guess I understand. Sometimes I stay up late looking at Carla, too."

"How did you-"

I'd started to turn to look at Evita, but then I saw Stacey standing by the open door. I couldn't be sure, but there might have been tears in her eyes.

__________________________

The update is killing my soul. This might look weird or something. Hopefully you still understand the whole thing.

But yeah. Sad chapter. I hated writing it but it's a little important. Kinda.

QOTD: What do you guys think of the "sore thumb" expression?

Omgoodness David Archuleta is cool