_OceanofPDF

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E L L A
The auditorium at the school for performing arts was huge and packed
with parents, friends, and the odd Hollywood agent looking for a diamond
in the rough. Logan looked like one of the latter in jeans and a blue polo
shirt that made his eyes look supernatural. Even in normal clothes, he stuck
out like a sore thumb.
“What?” I said as we sat with our programs.
“What, what?”
“You’re jumpy.”
“Not my usual crowd.”
“You mean regular people?”
“In what world are you regular, Estella Papillion?”
“Shush, you.” I slapped him with my program. “I can see normal from
where I am. I can talk to normal about normal problems. You’re a satellite
looking at dots and blobs.”
“Metaphorically interesting, yet objectively incorrect.”
The lights went down.
“The thing about being a satellite is you think you’re looking at the big
picture,” I whispered. “But it’s just the weather.”
“You push that analogy any further, you’re going to send it out of orbit.”
“They’re starting.” I put my fingers to his lips, and he surprised me by
pushing my hand against his mouth to kiss my middle and ring fingers.
Though I’d experienced Logan’s affection before, that touch was
different. It wasn’t a thing in itself, done to be seen, with its own beginning,
middle, and end. It was a flirtation. A promise of more. An aperitif before
the best meal you ever had.