Full Strength

Eight-Lillian ❤️‍🩹

          The next day, Nick's family and Logan's parents came over for lunch.

          I insisted on cooking lunch, despite Logan's boisterous protests. He even went so far as to make an attempt to chase me through the kitchen on his crutches. It was valiant, but he couldn't help much.

"I promise, it's no trouble. I've been kind of bored sitting around, so this is a nice challenge to take on," I said, kneeling on the floor to dig out a big pot.

"But this is big. Like, big. I'm having six family members over and you want to cook for all of them?" he argued, leaning against the counter to take some weight off his feet.

            "Yes. I'm serious Logan, let me do this. We have to feed them something, right?"

            He looked like he wanted to say no. "Well...we could get another pizza."

            I put my hands on my hips. "We cannot feed pizza to every person who comes over," I said in a no-nonsense tone.

           "We could," he said halfheartedly. "It's not impossible. A little weird, yeah, but not impossible."

"I'm cooking this time. Macaroni 'n' cheese and mashed potatoes," I said crisply, putting both pots on the counter. "Cookies for dessert."

Logan swung his way to the other side of the kitchen, arguing, "I'll make the cookies then. I've got to contribute somehow."

"You can't stand for more than ten seconds," I pointed out.

"Maybe I can..." He gently put his casted foot on the ground, gingerly trying to stand. We both cried out; him in pain and me in horror. He crumpled like an accordion, falling towards the floor. I immediately lunged for him, not even considering that he was two or three times my weight and a whole head taller than me. Logan didn't need to further worsen his concussion right now.

           Miraculously, the force of his weight didn't send us both to the floor. I was breathing hard, both arms right around his torso. One of his hands had caught the counter, probably helping me support him. His face was only an inch from mine, his eyes wrenched tight.

        He hadn't fallen.

        I cleared my throat, making him open his eyes. Logan relaxed slightly, still holding onto my shoulders. Breathing deep and shaking, he said, "Wow. Thanks."

         "Let's get you on your crutches," I said gently, acting as a human crutch as he slowly put himself upright. With one arm draped heavily around my shoulders, he hopped to the counter and grasped the edge. I slowly stepped back, his body weight no longer smothering me. I felt flushed in the face and out of breath, my heart still pounding wildly.

         "Sorry," he said, embarrassed.

        I waved him off. "D-don't be. It's an accident. I just don't want you hurting your head again. But...maybe let me cook?" I hated the stammer in my voice.

        "Yeah. No cooking," Logan agreed with a half-smile. I felt satisfied that he wouldn't try to pull any more stunts as I turned back to the oven.

The noodles were almost done and the potatoes already finished when Nick, Lina, and the twins arrived. Logan made introductions from his cozy spot on the couch, and I was incredibly happy to meet everyone.

        Nick was almost exactly like Logan, except crisper and not so hockey-infatuated. They had the same green eyes, brown hair, and soft dimples. The only difference was really their age and demeanor; Logan was messy and casual, while every inch of Nick screamed organized and professional. Lina was tall with straight black hair, the ends of it dyed hot pink. Her bangs were so neat and cute I almost asked her who her hairstylist was. She wore a wine red sweater and tall boots, looking sophisticated.