Beneath the Surface

Logan had always been a master of two things: fitting in, and not giving a damn. At school, he wore his confidence like armor. Sarcasm, arrogance, a hint of danger—people ate it up.

But lately, something had started to shift.

Because now, he was memorizing lines after midnight. He was doodling in the margins of his notebook, not guitars or flames like usual—but stars and stupid little crosses. He blamed Emily for that.

She was in his head. Always.

Even when he didn’t want her to be.

At lunch, Eric and the guys were waiting at their usual table near the courtyard fountain. Logan slumped into his chair, tossing his tray down.

“Where’ve you been, man?” Eric asked, mouth full. “You disappeared yesterday after practice.”

“I had tutoring.”

Eric snorted. “With the saint?”

“Saint Emily,” one of the others chimed in. “Did she pray for your soul?”

Logan rolled his eyes, forcing a laugh. “She tried. I told her it was a lost cause.”

Still, something in his voice was too soft. A fraction too light.

Eric didn’t miss it.

“You spending a lot of time with her lately.”

“She’s helping me with the play.”

“Helping,” Eric repeated, smirking. “Sure.”

Logan stabbed his fries and tried not to flinch. “Back off.”

“Whoa, chill, dude. Didn’t mean anything.”

But Logan was already looking across the courtyard.

Emily was there—sitting beneath the big oak tree, alone with a sandwich in her lap and a worn-out book in her hand. She looked like she belonged in a different movie entirely. Like the world around her was moving at a different speed.

And suddenly, Logan hated how loud everything felt. How stupid..

That evening, they rehearsed again.

The school auditorium smelled like sawdust and aging curtains. The drama teacher was too tired to care, so most of the students goofed off in the wings. Logan stood center stage with Emily, the only ones actually taking the scene seriously.

“You’re late,” she said, her tone playful.

“I brought coffee.”

“You brought one coffee.”

“I didn’t say it was for you.”

She smiled anyway and took a sip. “You’re improving, you know.”

“I’m shocked.”

“I mean it, Logan. Your delivery’s more honest now.”

“Guess I’ve got a good scene partner.”

Emily blushed faintly, and that did something to him. Something he couldn’t explain..

After rehearsal, he walked her to her car.

It wasn’t planned. He just… didn’t want to go home yet.

The sky was darkening, streaked in purples and golds, and the campus was quiet except for the distant sound of the janitor locking doors.