‘Poor kid’, Logan thought as he made his way up to Marie’s room, balancing a steaming mug of coffee and a box of Twinkies in one hand, the books she needed for her homework in the other. It was day three after the ‘Logan is a complete moron’ incident, as he liked to call it, and he was surprised she wasn’t already climbing the walls out of boredom.

Three days ago, Marie had talked him into letting her ride his bike. All would be fine, she’d assured him, the Logan in her head knew how to ride one. He’d believed her. Until she’d landed head-first in the hedge, the bike landing on her leg and breaking it in three places.

Of course she’d refused to let him heal her, saying something about it being her own fault, yadda, yadda, yadda, and so she lay upstairs in her bed, leg in a cast. She had graciously allowed him to tend to her every need, and the guilt eating away at his insides stopped him from feeling insulted. Or whipped.

She was reading a magazine when he entered her room, Cosmo or some other chick mag, and he unceremoniously dropped the box of Twinkies on top of it.

“Hey! I’m reading here.”

He just rolled his eyes and placed the coffee on her bedside table, then put the books on her desk. “You’ll live.”

Making a sound that came as close to a growl as she could muster, she ripped open the Twinkie bag and took one out, unwrapping it. “Want one?”

“Nah, I’ll pass.” He sat in the armchair she’d put in the corner, propped his feet up on her computer chair and thumbed through her history book. “How’s ‘Ro gonna take your test? Come up here or what?”

He looked up, and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Marie held a Twinkie to her mouth, sucking the filling from it, and continued reading her magazine. At his question, she looked up and mumbled around the Twinkie, “Dunno.” Cream squeezed out at the side, and when she scooped it up with her finger and licked it off, he nearly swallowed his tongue.

Unable to tear his gaze away, he raised his arm as though looking at his watch. “Oh, this late. I, uh, I gotta run. Cyke had this thing he wanted...”

Her tongue snaked into the Twinkie, pink and glistening, and now he was sure she was grinning. Grinning in a way that no 19-year-old virgin should be able to.

“I gotta go.”

When he fled her room, the last thing he saw were her tongue, coated in sticky white cream, and a devilish smile that made her eyes light up. Fuck.

Shower. Cold shower. Yes, shower sounded good.

The END

“Logan, pleeeeeeeease!”

Logan tried to ignore her. She had been complaining the whole day and whining for the last 15 minutes and it was starting to grate on his nerves. He had to get out of there, or he’d break. “Are you sure you don’t need anything from the library?”

Marie pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “You hate me, right? You just want me to suffer.”

“No, I don’t. But I could name a couple of reasons why I’m the wrong person to ask.”

It was day five after the accident, and sometime this morning she’d got it in her head that she needed a shower. And she’d asked him to help her with it.

“But I stink. My hair’s all oily.”

“I like your hair just fine that way.” God, he’d got good at lying to her through his teeth. The last five days had been pure torture. Her friends Jubilee and Kitty had taken care of her ‘female needs’ up till now, but he knew there was no way the girls could get her and the heavy cast into the shower accident-free. So of course she’d asked him. Strong, manly him.

She continued pouting and sank lower into her pillow. “You’re a jerk.”

“Darlin’, you have no idea.” He picked up the dirty dish and glass from her nightstand, patting her head. “I’ll be right back.” She stuck her tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes. “Be good.”

When he returned ten minutes later, the bed was empty. “Marie?”

Something broke in the bathroom, and he yanked open the door. Marie sat on the toilet, her face red with exhaustion. The soap dish had fallen to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. Marie wasn’t looking at him, instead staring straight ahead. Her chin was trembling.

“Shit, Marie, why didn’t you wait for me?”

“You said no.” Now her lower lip trembled.

Shit. Fuck. Crap.

He sighed deeply and stepped over the broken soap dish, crouching in front of her. “Look, I... Don’t think I don’t want you to be nice and clean an’ all. I just...”

“It’s my skin.” Her lip trembled more.

“No! Well, yes.” She swallowed hard, and he wanted to slap himself. “But not like that.” He made her look at him. “Not like that, Marie.”

She stared at him, and then he could practically see the light go on in her head as she blushed a deep scarlet. “Oh my God, I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not.” He stood up and scratched his ear, trying to work out a way to get her in the shower without having to see her naked. Because that wouldn’t be good. At all. “Look, maybe we could... You could undress in the tub, right?”

“Um, yeah. I guess.”

“Good.” With that, he hoisted her up, sat her in the bathtub and closed the curtain. Marie shrieked and dug her fingers into his arm as he raised her, and he saw how she blushed.

“Logan! For Christ’s sake, are you trying to give me a heart attack?!”

He just rolled his eyes. “Go on. Undress, shower, and then stop your whining. Or better, stop whining before you shower.”

She grumbled behind the curtain, momentarily muffled as she pulled her shirt over her head, and then said shirt was flung at his head, her scent enveloping him like a blanket. A lesser man would have fainted.

She showered extensively, muttering expletives all the while, and then the water stopped.

“Um, Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“How exactly do you plan on getting me out of here?”

Oh dear.

The END