Page 63 of C*cky Best Friend
Logan asks, “They gone?”
“Yeah,” I whisper, fingers shaking as I push my hair behind my ear, imagining his face and the frown I can hear etched into it. “How is it? Are you having fun?”
“Rehearsals are harder here.”
“Standards must be higher.”
“That’s not why.”
The pain cuts deep. “Oh.”
“So I guess you decided not to come,” he chuckles with sarcasm before he adds, “I mean, that’s pretty obvious. I’m just surprised you didn’t tell me. I had to find it out by meeting your replacement. Good times, Sam.”
Collapsing onto my bed, I stare at the ceiling. “When I realized how cutthroat things are, I just…” Closing my eyes I whisper, “It’s not the life for me, Logan. I don’t want to worry about covering up people’s secrets, or injuries that might’ve been done on purpose, or grow a thicker skin. I like my skin the way it is.”
“Are you running because of what I said?”
“I’m hoping we can be friends.” My voice cracks. “I haven’t been handling this well, Logan. You’re the person I always turn to when I need someone who will listen. Who will just…”
“…love you.”
Tears gather as I struggle to ask what’s been hurting me most, “Are you going to be able to be my friend? Is everything changed now?”
He exhales. From years of seeing him do this when he’s frustrated, I know he’s rubbing his face. “I can try. I don’t want to lose you. It feels really weird living this dream without you. We always talked about coming here, and I’m here and you’re not. It feels wrong.”
It does to me as well. “I’m sorry. I’m having an existential crisis. Especially with you gone.”
“Was it what I said about Asher? Is it because you were afraid he was going to drop you, like he did Marion?”
“I don’t think he did. What I don’t like is that I’m not sure,” I sigh, rolling into the fetal position, “People suspect it, but are letting it continue because that’s just how it is in show business? That’s not part of the dream I had, Logan. I’d rather live in the small pond and be happy.”
In the background I hear male voices calling his name.
“Look, the guys and I are going to Central Park before rehearsal since we get no days off.”
“What’s New York like?”
“Busy, just like they say it is. You go outside and there are a million people passing you, some speaking different languages, all in a hurry. Horns and sirens never stop, but you get used to that. We’ve only been here a week. I still have a lot to see.” Keeping it to myself that it doesn’t sound good to me, I listen as he continues, “Galloway has been working us so hard we haven’t time to explore. We’re beat up every night. I go to the local coffee shop, get food from bodegas, and pass out. Stuart has lofts for the performers. There are five guys staying with me.”
Wondering if Stuart told his wife, I try to smile as I say, “Five! That sounds like a lot of fun.”
“It is. I’m having a pretty good time when I’m not missing you.” My heart thuds and I bite my lip on a frown as he goes silent. We stay like this, knowing we have to hang up soon, but neither of us wanting to. Finally his friends shout at him again. “I’ll give you a call sometime.”
“No!” I bolt upright. “Logan Clark, you have to call me once a week! We have to make it a thing.”
“Sam…”
I wipe away a tear as I insist, “We have to make it a thing or you’re going to be swept up, and I’m never going to see you again.”
“The production isn’t going for long.”
“But then there will be another one. And another. You’ll fly to a different country. Then maybe five more. And you’ll forget about me, your best friend living all the way over here in boring Georgia. So we have to make it a thing. Once a week. Promise me!”
His voice is hoarse with emotion. “What day?”
“Monday. Mondays are terrible, but they won’t be if I know I’ll be talking to you.”
Logan sniffs, clears his throat, says a low, “Mondays. Promise,” and hangs up.
I stuff the pillow over my head and sob.