“Hello?” he answers after two rings.
“Hi, Mr. Needleham. It’s Logan. Logan Evans,” I say in a nervous voice. “My mom told me you wanted me to call.”
“Yes, I did. How are things going at Wallingford?”
“Fine.”
“Have you gotten into any more trouble?”
“Um…” I pause. How should I answer his question? If Paige were here, she’d tell me honestly. “I haven’t gotten into trouble with the dean again,” I finally say. I don’t think trouble with Paige and Jernigan counts.
“Good, good. That’s what I want to hear. I talked to Commander Anderson yesterday, and he said he’s pleased with how you’re doing. Said you’ve acclimated nicely since the rocky start. Great job.”
“Thank you,” I say, feeling a small pang of pride, despite my horrible afternoon.
He’s quiet for a moment, and I imagine him writing something on his notepad with a bunch of arrows pointing at it. He’s a big doodler. Every time we meet, he fills three pages of paper with notes, except those notes contain only about ten words total. The rest is squiggles and triple underlines and exclamation points.
I hear people taking in the background, like he just walked from his office into the waiting room. Or maybe from his car into a Starbucks since it’s Sunday. He always had one of their mega cups sitting on his desk when I met with him.
“I’ve talked with the commonwealth’s attorney’s office, and they’re willing to consider a plea bargain at your pretrial hearing in mid-November.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yes.” I hear a beep, then a whistling sound and someone yelling a name. Definitely Starbucks. “I’m trying for a reduction in your felony charge to a Class 1 misdemeanor. I’d like them to agree to a suspended license for a few months, a small fine, and some community service,” he says. “In addition to you graduating from Wallingford, of course.”
“Okay.” This is what we talked about before I came here. I can handle no license for a while and community service. Actually, the community service requirement might be fulfilled through my club. “So no jail?” I ask, hoping to have him put my mind at ease.
“We’ll have to see. There will be significant negotiations, but I will try everything I can to keep you out of prison.”
“Thank you.” His words aren’t exactly reassuring, but at least we’re on the same page.
“I’m coming up to Wallingford this week to meet with some of your teachers. I want to get as many good reports as I can for the prosecutor.”
“Okay,” I reply. I’ve never caused a problem in class, so hopefully this will help.
“I’ll see you then. Keep up the good work, Logan.”
“I will.”
“Oh, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“Are you getting involved in extracurricular activities?”
“Yeah, a few.”
“Good. The more the better. We want to show you’re giving it your all at Wallingford.”
“Okay.”
We say goodbye, and when I hang up, there’s an unwelcome feeling in my chest. You’d think I’d be thrilled hearing my lawyer’s happy with how I’m doing, but there’s a tightness inside me. Like my heart is heavier than usual and hanging lower than usual. I stare out the window at the mostly bare trees and the quad with only a few students returning to their dorms. The sun is setting, but it’s not one of those pretty sunsets with oranges and purples. It’s just a gray sky, getting darker and darker. That’s kind of how I feel. Today started out okay and was really promising with being able to leave campus, but it’s just been getting darker and darker as the hours wear on.
I miss home. My mom. My friends. My car. My freedom.
And, strangely, I miss that brief moment Paige and I shared before the car of cadets distracted us. It was wrong, I know, but I can’t stop thinking about what almost happened.
And the fact that she seemed totally on board with it.
CHAPTER 14
PAIGE
I can’t believe them. How could they? Poor Logan was scared out of his mind. Of course he was, he had Alex and my dad ganging up on him like sharks circling a capsized boat.
And for no reason. Logan didn’t have his hands “all over me,” like Danny said. He almost kissed me. That’s it. And even if he had done something worse, why would my dad and Alex assume I couldn’t handle things myself? I’m stronger and faster than Evans—than a lot of the guys here—and I would have no problem knocking some sense into any of them if I had to.
Equally bad, though, is I was practically begging Logan to kiss me, which adds embarrassment to my anger. I shake my head, trying to erase the memory of me drooling over his cute lips. Lieutenant commanders do not drool.
“Did you sign up for the CFA Captain Baldwin is offering this week?” my dad asks, interrupting my thoughts. We’re in the rec hall with a few other cadets who are playing air hockey. My dad lines up his pool cue. I wait for him to take his shot before answering.
“No. I’ll do it next week.”
“Paige Rachel Durant.” He lowers his cue to the floor and purses his lips. “You can’t keep pushing it off. The sooner you get it done, the sooner you’ll get your acceptance letter.” To the Navy. That’s what he’s thinking, and I know I should bring up the Air Force, but I don’t have the energy after everything else this evening.
“I know. I just want one more week of practice. Leah’s offered to help me.”
He nods. “Fine. One week. That’s it. No more excuses.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, then approach the table. It probably makes more sense to tell him about the Air Force after my CFA anyway. There’s more than enough stress with the CFA. I don’t need to add more on myself until the test is over and I know whether it’s good enough to even be considered for admission.
I take my shot. The four ball drops into the side pocket, and the three ball rolls close to the corner pocket. I tap that one in and then bank the eight ball into the opposite corner.
My dad whistles. “You’ve been practicing,” he says before starting to rack the balls.
I haven’t played in a few weeks. The real reason for my skills tonight is that I always perform better when angry, whether it’s cross-country or pool.
He holds out his hand, inviting me to break, but it’s getting late and I’d rather be alone. “Actually, Dad, I should get going. I have some homework I need to finish.”
“Of course.”
We step outside into the dark evening and head toward the parking lot.
“So I assume you’ve gotten Evans’s behavior under control?” he says as we cross the quad.
“Yes, sir.”
“You two aren’t … don’t … have anything else going on, do you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not … dating or anything are you?” Earlier today, when we talked right after the incident in the hallway, I had explained to him Logan and I almost made a mistake, but quickly came to our senses. He seemed satisfied with my answer at the time and hasn’t said anything else about it until now, two hours later.