I woke up in the morning with an aching face. The events of the previous day came back to me and I instantly slapped my forehead.

A look at the clock told me it was past 9:00 AM, so I figured I should go get some breakfast. Except, I didn't want anyone to see my bruised face.

I got up and looked in the mirror. The bruise was even worse than it was before, and my eye just looked really, really dark. I'd been clinging to this small hope that it would somehow get less noticeable over night. Then, I remembered it was Christmas Eve. Tomorrow was Christmas, Mom's favorite day to take pictures. I just couldn't win, could I?

I scavenged through ideas before one hit me. I'd just put on a ski mask! I mean, people would know something was up, but they wouldn't see how extreme this was. I searched my drawers until I found my ski mask (which I rarely used) and slipped it over my head. The fabric hurt my face a little, but the majority of my injury wasn't visible. Besides, I could act as if I was doing some sort of twenty one pilots cosplay.

I gave myself a thumbs up in the mirror for reassurance and opened the door, ready to face the world.

Once in the kitchen, I kept my head down, not even daring to find out who was there. My plan was to toast some pop tarts and then sneak them back up to my room without drawing too much attention.

Then I heard my mom's voice among the others in the room.

"...and his coworker had to take him to the doctor! He looks just terrible." She turned and saw me come in. "Logan, honey, show Pamela your face."

I shot Mom a sideways glance, crossing my hand over my throat to signify that I wished she'd drop the topic, but to no avail. She just kept going.

"Ugh, he's got that stupid mask on. But look at the eyehole! Can't you see how terrible it is!"

"Oh my," Pamela said. "It's as black as that mask!"

"I'm just so enfuriated..."

At this point I had my pop tarts, untoasted, and was walking swiftly to my room. I caught Stacey looking at me from the corner of my eye. I couldn't read her expression.

I sat on my bed and munched on my pop tarts. A minute later I received a message on my phone that made my stomach flop.

What happened?

It was Stacey. I figured she wouldn't want to talk to me after the party the other day and just because I'm a loser in general.

I didn't want to tell her. I also didn't want to face her with this ski mask.

Me: Nothing.

Stacey: Really

Me: Yeah really

Stacey: I meant that you need to tell me what really happened.

Me: Why?

Stacey: I'm curious.

Me: And not because you care about my well being?

This time she didn't answer. Great.

I opened my group chat with Trisha and Oliver.

Me: Anyone good at decoding girl?

Trisha: I'm a girl.

Me: Yeah but can you decode them?

Trisha: Duh. What's up?

I sent a screenshot of my conversation with Stacey.

Me: She didn't answer me.

Trisha: What was she talking about?

Me: Oh...that.

Trisha: Tell meeeee.

Me: Okay I might have a black eye right now but that's not what I texted you guys for.

Trisha: WHAT?!

Me: So does she care about me or not?

Trisha: What happened?

Me: That's not the point of this conversation.

Trisha: Don't you think I'd like to know?!

Me: Judging on what you're saying now, I'd say you would very much like to know.

Trisha: So??

Me: Can you answer my question first?

And she didn't answer me either. I wondered what that meant.

Why are girls so confusing?

I sighed and flopped back down on my bed. What was I supposed to do?

Stacey was leaving the day after tomorrow. I had very little time to accomplish everything I wanted to accomplish.

Now, I could hide like a hermit all day (sounded nice) or I could go have a chat with Stacey (sounded terrifying).

I exhaled heavily and stayed on my bed for as long as possible, holding off the impending doom. Eventually, I decided I was going to have to get up and face the world, even if my face wasn't ready.

I put on some day clothes but kept my mask on. I headed downstairs, where I heard Mom having yet another argument with Anthony.

"You got the application but never turned it in? Anthony!"

"Mom, they're not even open today."

"Um, yeah they are! It's tomorrow they're closed!"

"Mom—"

"Logan!" Mom called my name, making everyone in the area turn to gaze at my masked face. Even Stacey, who was on the couch reading one of Mom's magazines. "Can you drive Anthony to WinCo to actually turn in his application?"

"Mom," Anthony broke in, "I'm perfectly capable of driving myself."

"Yeah, but Logan is more likely to actually drive to WinCo."

Anthony rolled his eyes.

I jumped at the opportunity for an excuse to leave the house. I grabbed the keys to my car, and I was halfway out the door when Pamela said, "Logan! Take Stacey! She needs something to do."

It was almost as if she kept trying to get Stacey and I together.

Stacey tried to protest. "Mom, I'm okay just sitting here and—"

"Come on! You guys need to stop being so shy. This is exactly what happened at Martha's over the summer but then you warmed up and spent each day hanging out. Just get in there and do it again."

I assumed she didn't know that Stacey and I hung out in the night, as well. Doing things like playing truth or dare, sharing secrets, kissing. I blushed at the thought.

Anthony noticed, but I threw my keys at him, hard, before he could say anything.

Then I remembered he couldn't see me blushing because I was wearing a ski mask, and he was probably about to comment on the fact that Stacey and I hadn't been hanging out. Still, I didn't need any of his comments.

"Logan," Mom chided. "That wasn't necessary."

I rolled my eyes and caught the keys as she tossed them back to me.

"Neither was the eye rolling," she said. "Are you okay today?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, feeling bad about being so moody. "I just...have a sore face."

Mom pouted. "Awe. My poor baby."

"Oooookay, let's go." I stepped outside. I'd been expecting the familiar cold to sting my face, but I was kept warm by the ski mask. Maybe everyone needs a ski mask in the winter. Then again, that might be creepy.

Anthony stepped out beside me. "Wait for Stacey," he said with a sly grin.

Stacey stepped out a minute later. Today she was wearing purple, a color I'd never seen her in. For some reason, that made me feel like everything was definitely changing. I was definitely losing her and I definitely couldn't get her back.

Then I thought, Chill, dude. It's just a shirt.

If only she knew what she did to me.

"Shall we go?" I said.

"No," said Anthony, sarcastically. "We need to stand outside in the cold for a few more minutes." He took off towards my car.

Once I'd unlocked all the doors, Anthony took the backseat. I raised my eyebrows at him and he said, "You guys need to have a little talk. I'll pretend not to listen."

Stacey awkwardly sat in the passenger seat, and Anthony got settled in and started texting again.

"Are you sure you're not just sitting back there so you can text your girlfriend?" I asked.

"Shut up," Anthony said. "And yes, I'm sure. Now, you two. Start talking."

I turned the car on and a crazy George Gershwin piece started playing. It startled me and I jumped. Anthony laughed in the backseat.

"Please stop," I said.

The car ride was full of no one but Anthony talking, and he just kept suggesting that Stacey and I talk things out.

"Anthony," I finally said. "I'm not sure talking things out with you three feet away is the best idea."

"Alright," he said, "but when I arrive from my trip inside WinCo, I expect you guys to be normal again. Elliot didn't handle the news well."

"You told him?"

"Yeah. He almost drove down here to sort crap out like he did last time. Luckily for you, I told him you'd already agreed to fix it yourself."

"Drive? Isn't he like 15?"

"Who knows."

We arrived at WinCo, and Anthony jumped out, winked at me, and continued on his way.

"Sort things out?" Stacey said once he was gone. I hadn't been expecting her to talk.

"Huh?"

"Elliot had to sort crap out last time?"

"Oh, um... He might've been working with Anthony to get me to kiss you."

Stacey furrowed her brows. "But you didn't."

"Yeah, that wasn't the plan. I was a little embarrassed that you kissed me first. Well, really embarrassed."

I tried to turn and look at her, but she was staring out the window, facing away from me.

"I was going to, you know," I said. It was kind of scary how we went from not talking to talking about kissing.

But I wasn't going to chicken out. I couldn't stop thinking about how in three days I'd have lost her. It couldn't be for good this time.

"Were you," she said. It wasn't even a question, more of a clarification.

"Yeah, I was, but you know me. Always messing up."

Stacey finally turned to look at me. I was mentally preparing myself for her to agree and lash out at me with every reason as to why I was right, that I always messed things up.

Instead, she said, "No you're not."

I locked eyes with her. "Of course I am. I've messed up before, and you don't even know. And now I've messed up big time and upset you."

Stacey looked sorry. I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. Almost too late, I noticed her hand reaching towards my face. She was trying to remove my mask.

I backed away from her instantly. "Please don't."

"What did you do?" she asked quietly, her hand dropping to her lap. Pain was evident in her eyes. I know how I say you can't tell much by looking at someone's eyes, but this time, it was so clear how she felt that I felt even worse for ruining anything at all.

Then, for some unknown reason, one of Stacey's text messages from my absence popped into my mind. I really need to talk to you, she'd said. Did that mean she just wanted to talk to me? Or she wanted to talk to me about something in particular?

"What did you need to talk to me about?" I asked.

Stacey looked taken aback. "What?"

"When you texted me. You said you really needed to talk to me. What did you mean?"

"I... Nothing."

"You're lying."

"I'll tell you if you tell me what happened to your face."

I paused and then sat back. I couldn't tell her.

But, maybe I should. She trusted me with her story of Brody, the jerk that led her on and then went to the dance with someone else.

I didn't want to be the second loop in her chain of heartbreakers. She had one and she didn't need another. I wanted to be the one to take the pain from her eyes and replace it with happiness. I felt that now more than ever.

"Stacey," I whispered, leaning closer.

She looked at me, and I saw hope join the sadness and I could tell we were both on the same page. We each leaned forward, gradually closing the distance. I was afraid to get too close, in case she decided to back away and make me look like a fool. I almost wanted her to take control, but it was high time for me to man up.

Both of us were so close, leaning over the center console, faces mere inches apart, when the back door opened and we jumped apart.

Anthony climbed in noisily and exhaled. "You guys okay now?"

I glared at him and started the ignition to head home. I glanced at Stacey and met her eyes. Some understanding passed between us.

We weren't done yet.

__________________________

Well hello.

This chapter was going to be about something else, but it got long before I got there, so that'll be next! It probably works better as two separate chapters anyway.

Sorry I took so long to update. I had school and annoying stuff like that.

Anyway, if you liked this chapter, don't forget to leave and vote and a comment! I want to know what you think!

Peace out,

~Hannah ❈