BREN

What now?

That was the question running through my mind, teetering over two sides between running away or diving in for good. I had never expected to grab Logan like that, nor did I had the intention of pleasuring him (not that I mind). Granted, I was thinking with my emotions more than my brain, not knowing what to do once I get to that door. I wanted to stop Logan from leaving and talk, but did I planned to kiss him? It's all in the past now. What happened, happened.

And we hardly even talked. We did use our mouths, though, and oh, what a fucking irony that was.

I cursed my teenage hormones, the situation, the bathroom, and everything else that made me do it, ignoring the little voice at the back of my skull, whispering how a turn on it all was. What do people say again? Boys will be boys? I was too scared to admit when I wanted to do it again, and I blamed Logan for not stopping me. But did I want him to? That answer was pretty straightforward.

Logan never uttered a word since we went out through the door and silently walked through the corridor and museum exhibits, now illuminated by the ceiling lights after Alfie found the generator. I could see everything out in the open; the various props, mannequins, battle scenes, historical trinkets, and memorabilia were no longer hidden in the shadows. I also wondered if the others could see the shame, arousal, and excitement on my face of what I had done in that bathroom with my best friend. The split-second image horrified me more than the vectors could.

This felt more like a walk of shame after a night of a random hookup. Fortunately, the others were too busy gobbling up Aria's waffles and Yousef's coffee drinks, and they were both happy to serve the others some food that didn't come out of a can.

I shook the thoughts off my head, trying to calm my nerves and my still hammering heart. It had been a few minutes since we left the bathroom, taking our stuff back to the RV with Logan, alone.

No one was in the RV except for us.

After putting his bag in the cabinet, Logan sat on the bed, watching me, hands inside his pockets, biting his lower lip as if he wanted to say something.

Without thinking, I leaned down and placed my bag under my bunk bed, realizing I had bent over and propped my ass two inches away from Logan's knees. I immediately shot up, could feel my face reddening, but Logan merely chuckled, amused by everything.

"Shut up," I said, albeit it was too timid to be intimidating. I never liked feeling flustered so quickly like some naive lovesick puppy, something so new to me that I didn't want it as a bone in my body. I hated Logan for making me feel this way.

Logan's chuckles became a laugh—a nervous laugh. He seemed to be back to his usual self. Not that brooding mess I had to deal with the past couple of days since...well since he saw me on this same bunk bed with Peter on top of me.

I couldn't help but smile in return. Logan's laugh was intoxicating, one of those sounds you couldn't force yourself to ignore, one that came from his gut and heart, deeper and fuller to my ears. It was comforting.

"Did you always meant to do that?" Logan asked after his laughter subsided.

"Meant to do what?"

"Give me a handy?"

I tried not to get flustered even more. "Er...you didn't like it? But you said—"

"Oh, I didn't say that, and you are more than welcome to do it again, by the way. Preferably in a better, more private setting..."

"Eh. Don't push your luck."

Logan sighed. "But I just want to ask that I didn't force that on you."

"No," I said, smiling. That's awfully sweet. "You didn't force me. It should be me apologizing to you for springing that on you without warning. You're doing an excellent job of not freaking out."

"Oh, trust me. I am. A little."

"If it makes you feel better, I wanted to do it."

"Oh." Logan slowly nodded his head, looking like he was in deep thought. "Cool." Suddenly, he glanced at his pants and readjusted under the fly.

I raised my eyebrow, intrigued. "Are you seriously hard right now?"

"Hey. Give me a break, will you? It's been a while, and Miguel's magazines can only go so far in that department. So, thank you, I guess."

"Nuh-uh. Never thank me."

Logan flinched. "Did I say something wrong?"

"Thanking me like that makes me sound like I'm a prostitute, and you just paid me fifty bucks."

"But you're not."

"Oh? What am I then?" I asked, egging him on, and I didn't try to hide my amusement.

"You're...complicated."

"Ha! I bet."

"It's too early to label ourselves, right?"

I nodded. "Nor do we have the time to sprinkle all over the details."

"Well, as long as you enjoyed my company."

"And we're golden."

Logan stood up until our bodies were inches away in the cramped aisle. He looked down at me for a moment (I had to tilt my head up just to meet his eye), his brown eyes boring into me, and then he leaned down, pressing his lips on my forehead. It was a peck, gone in a split second, his puckered lips replaced with a gentle, kind smile.

"You did that before," I said.

"Did what?" He asked.

"Kissed me on the forehead. You know, back on that farm...after Albany..."

It was Logan's turn to get flustered, his cheeks turning pinkish. "Oh? You were awake?"

"Half asleep. It was...unexpected. Did you have feelings for me then?"

"No. Not then."

"Oh."

"Before that. Long before that."

"I...I see."

A pause. "And you?"

I bit my bottom lip, trying to find the right words to say. "To be honest, I'd wanted to say I like you back then, but I see you more of as a friend. You're my best friend, so I have always seen you that way. But there was a time when we first met that I had a little crush on you—if that counts—but times had changed."

"Ah."

"But now, after what we did..."

"...times have changed," Logan finished. "Uh, again?"

"Yeah. It seems I can be persuaded."

Logan leaned in and kissed me. His hands found my waist and pulled me closer, my own hands wrapped around his neck to pull him in deeper.

Logan broke the kiss, sighing. "That's, uh, very nice to hear."

"Nice?"

"Hold on. Let me just sink this in, alright?"

"Okay, idiot."

"You know, this thing between us, it doesn't excuse what I had put you through before. The things I've said and done..."

"I've already forgiven you for that."

"It doesn't change that it did happen, Bren. We can't ignore it or talk about it once and then be done. I know boys have a funny and cruel way of showing they liked someone. It eats me up inside that I can't just go up to you in school and ask you out when people expected me to be someone else. When my own father expects me to be...him."

"You're not that boy anymore."

"Still, that's no excuse to make your life a living hell. If I could turn back time, I would have stopped Natalie and everyone else. That video...I have regretted it ever since. I guess I was jealous that you and Pete, of all people, fancied each other. It feels like a betrayal that you would go for him when you know our history."

"It's more complicated than that."

"I know, and that's what gets me."

"I've been where you are now. The closet can be a stifling box for people like us."

"And you make it so easy." Logan let out a small chuckle.

"There were times when I noticed you were acting a little strange around me. Some things you say that stood out and all, even before New York."

"Damn. In that case, I'm not as smooth as I thought I was."

I rolled my eyes, smiling in return. "Please. You are not smooth with me for the past two days. You're rough around the edges. You almost gave me a splinter."

"Ha! Funny. I have my reasons, you know. This is all new to me. If you were a chick, I bet I can get you on that bed right now."

"Such eloquence," I said sarcastically, but my smile faltered. "Wait, so, you...you still like girls?"

He thought about it for a while, then said, "I don't really know what I am or who I am. I know I'm Logan Hardy, and I'm me, but beyond that point, it's a blank slate. I'm still figuring this thing out, and I find women still attractive, like sexually speaking. So..."

"The pornstars?"

Logan flushed. "Well, I'm not blind. They are hot..."

I raised my brow teasingly. "And I see that Nico and Marie have been paying extra attention to you."

His cheeks turned redder. "Look. I'm not going to do anything with them if you don't want me to. I mean...I don't plan to...Nico did preposition me with a threesome with Marie, and I haven't given them an answer."

I let out a chuckle and placed my hand on Logan's chest. "Would you relax? I'm not angry, upset, or jealous—well, maybe a little? A threesome? Are you kidding me?" I glowered at him.

"Um, is that an angry look or a jealous look?"

"Do I have to spell it out?"

"Oh. Wait, you're into that?"

"Hm, let me see? I'm a guy, a teenager, and gay. What do you think? Every guy's into that or has thought of it one way or another."

"Now, you sound like Mr. Fitz."

I laughed. I remembered Mr. Fitz, our Sex Ed teacher. "Ah. What would he say to us every class again?" I feigned ignorance when I already knew the answer. "Positive Sex Reinforcement?" Logan and I said it at the same time and chuckled.

I continued, "Logan, you do you. If you want to have a threesome with them, go for it. I'm not gonna get in the way of you exploring who you are or stifle that by being greedy, only for you to resent me later on."

"Eh? But I like you greedy."

"Is that so? Well, I can tell Nico and Marie to stay off your back then."

"Can't say I'm not turned on by the idea of you being a little possessive, being a short guy and all."

"What do you have against my height?"

Logan grinned. "Bren, you're like...fun-sized. It's cute."

"I am not that short! Statistically speaking, I am of average height, thank you, and I'm a couple of inches taller than Tom Cruise. Why am I even bothering with this? You know what, fuck you. I'm not going to talk to you anymore."

I walked out of the cabin, heading for the door when Logan dashed from my right, extending his right arm across the door frame, blocking the exit.

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said, but he was still laughing, which I couldn't take his apology seriously. "I know you are more than capable of handling me just fine."

I crossed my arms. "If you say so."

"Oh. Come on, Bren. Don't be like that. I was only teasing."

Logan titled his head slightly to the side, boring his eyes on me again like some lost, sad puppy. And was he smoldering? My stomach twisted a little, fluttering like butterflies upon release.

"Don't make fun of my height again."

"Yes, boss."

"Ever."

"Ouch. I didn't know it's a touchy subject."

"Well, now you know." To be honest, it didn't really bother me, more like how he said it. I mean, fun-sized? Who described the guy you like that way? He made me sound like I'm a Kit-Kat (not that I have anything against them since it's my favorite candy bar).

I climbed out of the RV, and I didn't even make it two steps out when I quickly noticed a slight movement to my left. I whirled around where Jun stood, leaning against the vehicle with an unreadable expression.

Logan jumped out in fright. "Holy shit! Jesus, dude! You scared me half to death! How long have you been standing there?"

"Three minutes," Jun answered nonchalantly.

I froze. "How much have you heard?"

Jun pursed his lips, hesitating.

"I won't get angry," I said to reassure him.

"The tail end. You are...together."

Logan rubbed the nape of his neck. "Ah. Well, not exactly."

"Can you keep this between us?" I asked Jun, and Logan turned to study me. "Just for today, and maybe tomorrow. Or maybe just until we get out of Harrisburg."

"Okay," Jun said without hesitation.

I turned to Logan to explain. "I need to tell Peter about this, privately. I just don't want him to hear it from someone else."

"You guys are just no strings attached, right? He doesn't have the right to be angry."

"When it comes to you...yeah, he does."

"I can tell him then," Logan said confidently.

"Do you want a broken arm? A foot? Because that's what you're gonna get."

"Ouch. Way to believe in me, Bren. I can take him."

"Logan, I know you're strong and capable, but please be serious about this. I've fought him twice, and he put up a hell of a fight."

"Fine, fine. I'll shut my mouth. For the record, I would love to rub it on his face."

"Don't be mean."

Logan ignored me. "Fight fire with fire."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "We still have to discuss you and him."

"What about?"

"You still have to apologize to him."

Logan scoffed. "Oh. Not you, too. You sound like Miguel."

"I'm serious."

"He wants to hurt you," Jun interjected. "Maybe kill you."

"It won't go that far unless you apologize and have a discussion about this, you know, like grown adults? Man to man?"

"What's the fun in that?" Logan said sarcastically, and I could feel that I'm losing him. "And besides, man to man just means a fistfight."

"Be serious."

"I am serious, Bren. I'm serious in my anger at Pete for being, well, an asshole since we were babies, and he's serious about his rage to me. Pretty simple, actually."

"There will be blood," Jun said.

Logan pointed at Jun. "See? He gets it."

I scowled at Jun. "Jun, you're not helping."

"Relax." Logan rubbed his hand on my shoulder. "I know him pretty well. Peter Gauthier is not going to do a freaking thing."

"I just want you to be careful," I said.

"I am careful. Look at it this way: He left you dry when that video of you two came out, didn't he? Tucked his tail and ran? Ignored you like a ghost? Cowards do that, Bren, and they never change. A coward is always a coward."

But he's changed, I thought. And I still hadn't figured out if Peter was the same man I've met in high school, molded by conditioning from the horrors in that military school he still refused to tell me about. But I wondered if the one with me now was his true, authentic self or another facade, waiting to be broken?

Logan turned to Jun. "What brings you here, man?" he asked, changing the subject, and I know I could not steer it back to Peter and him. Another time.

Jun pulled out Hot Topic's Wonder Woman children's backpack.

Diana's backpack.

"I was looking around the exhibits when I found this shoved halfway through a cannon. When the lights turned on, the bright red and gold colors stood out from the rest of the props," he said. He then pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "I found this inside."

I took the paper and read it, recognized the same handwriting from the cemetery. It was Miguel's. Logan leaned in to read it as well.

All alive. Soldiers took us somewhere safe? Don't know where, but I overheard downtown. Took our weapons, left no choice. Watch out for Captain Drucker. He knows the outpost has fallen but don't know it's you.

"The captain," I muttered, folding the piece of paper and put it back inside the backpack, which was mostly empty. Audrey probably transferred the content to another bag.

"We have to get them back," I added.

Logan groaned. "Aria's not gonna love this."

"It's Miguel, Logan. They took Miguel and the kids..."

"They did mention they're taking them somewhere safe."

"But how safe is downtown? All we hear are helicopters and gunfire that gets louder the closer we get to that part of town."

Jun and Logan didn't answer me for a while.

"Well, there's one way to find out," Logan said. "I guess we don't have to stay here anymore."

I nodded. "Yes. We're moving forward."

——

It's three in the afternoon, and we were just blocks away from entering the city proper. The gunfire rose into a cacophony just behind the line of mason-bricked buildings, condo complex, duplexes, and boutique shops. One-shot did not go alone and went on repeatedly in collective bursts, but an explosion far louder than bullets could follow its wake. I realized they're coming from tanks. The fighting sounded intense, bloody, frightening even for me, and my blood curdled just thinking about us in the middle of it.

As long as they kept away from us, I didn't have anything to worry about.

But they are getting closer.

"Those sound awfully close," said Peter behind the wheel of the truck. I wished I didn't turn to look at him from where I sat. When Peter looked worried, it's about time everyone panicked too—even me. Indy, seated at the back seat, was already whimpering from all the noise.

Poor puppy. Logan tried to console him by petting him by the scruff. That seemed to alleviate his agitation.

I tried to regain my composure, looking around to make sure we didn't accidentally run over a soldier or an Alpha. "As long as we don't cause any trouble..."

"Are we sure we're on the right road?" Deon asked from the truck bed. We had the window open from the rear so we could communicate with the others. Nash and Jun were silent beside him, the latter scanning the surroundings far better than I could. He had his bow and arrow already in hand.

"This is Market Street," Logan said and pointed at the city map in his hand. He scowled at Deon for even accusing him of straying them in the wrong path. "Look!" Logan pointed at the sign at the bottom of the traffic lights, labeled MARKET ST. "We're on the right route."

"But it's taking so long. I don't like being out here in the open."

And neither do I, but you don't hear me complaining. "We'll be fine," I said to Deon.

Deon didn't say anything. He moved out of the window, sitting on the side of the truck bed with Nash and Noodle.

It was a straight road ahead to our next meeting point except for a couple of easy turns; the RV drove in front of us to clear the way. Perhaps we could weather this battle between the Alphas and the military inside the church until everything died down and it was safe to proceed through downtown. It would be awful if I happened to look out the window only to find a bullet wheezing past the glass and hit me on the face.

Peter said, "I wished you had just ridden in the RV."

"You know why," I said.

"Is it 'cause I'm here?" Peter said cheekily.

I huffed and punched him gently on the shoulder. "Ass. No, not that. It's because I can fight. It wasn't fair for me to stay in there, protected by all that armor while everyone who rides here is in danger. Besides, it's getting awfully crowded in there." And if anyone tried to attack the RV, most of our best fighters are on the truck, ready to take them down.

"At least Haskell gets to drive Cora again."

"That man sure has a weird fixation with his rig."