Chapter 202
**Two Day’s later**
**Logan**
“Was that your last exam?” I ask Megan when she gets in the car. She smiles and nods. “And you’re going to prom tonight?” I ask.
“Yeah, the girls are coming round to get read in an hour,” I frown and look at the clock. It’s only 1 pm.
“How long will it take to get ready?”
“Hours,” she says with a grin. “I’m kidding, it’s just so we can hang out first,” she explains. I wasn’t sure she was still going to go to prom after last night and this morning.
The sickness was so bad, I was tempted to take her to hospital, but she kept telling me it was ok, but she couldn’t even keep water down last night.
“I’m hoping my dress still fits,” she says in thought.
“Why won’t it? You’ve not put weight on,”
“My boobs are bigger,” I’d noticed that and I am not complaining.
“I’m sure it will fit,” I say, I wouldn’t know though as she won’t let me see it.
“Did you hear how much Carl had raised?” she asks. I shake my head. “Around two thousand,”
“Not bad, he could have gotten a lot more if he took me up on my offer,” I grumble.
“You enjoyed it,” she mocks. “And I know two grand is just pocket money to you, but it’ll be nice for whichever charity it’s going to go to,” she says. I scowl at her, and she laughs.
I did enjoy it, but that’s because I got to hear her sing. Watching her perform was the highlight of my night. After the reaction, she got, she should never doubt her talents again.
“If I hadn’t told you about what I earn you wouldn’t have even guessed I was rich,” I say a little offended by what she just said. I don’t flaunt my money.
“I’m only kidding,” she says and moves her hand into mine. I smile a little because I know I can’t stay mad at her.
“How do you think you did on your exam?” I change the subject. I know she’s probably done quite well. She’s smarter than she thinks. The fact I can hold a conversation with her without her saying ‘like’ every other word proves she has more brain cells than most girls her age.
“I’m hoping I did pretty good, I think talking about astronomy with you helped,” she says with a smile, “I think we should have focused on physics more,” she adds.
“I doubt that matters,”
“I think I got the question about the cars colliding wrong. I put A: Momentum increased briefly following the collision. But Melanie told me afterwards that it was D: A partially inelastic collision has occurred. I mean what good is telling me after the exam,” she asks, making me chuckle. “I should have put D that sounds correct,”
“Sometimes it’s the wording,” I say to try and comfort her. “Our brains can make us think something is right because it has similar wording to the question. What was the actual question?” I ask.
“Two cars crashed, and it basically asked which statement best describes the collision that has occurred,” she paraphrases.
“Ok, what happened with the cars?”
“They crumpled together and then spun away from each other to the opposite sides of the road,”
“Melanie is correct; if you understand kinetic energy, it’s quite straight forward,”
“I was off school when we did kinetic energy,” she says quietly. “I’ve probably failed this test,”
“No, and if you have, you can retake it,” I say looking at her briefly before concentrating on the road. “You won’t be the only person to get the question wrong,” I say.
“I hate science,” she huffs and looks out of the window. “You should have been my science teacher,”
“Why?”
“Because then you could have helped me study,”
“If I taught science I’d probably grow to hate it; I like science, I enjoyed Chemistry,”
“I like chemistry,”
“I made my own meth in high school,” I state and she looks at me with her eyes wide. “Not now, I don’t have the time,”
“Oh so if you had the time you would,” she sarcastically says.
“I only made it for parties,”
“That does not make it any better,” I laugh a little and tilt my head in thought.
“Yeah, I know, now I just grow shit,” I say, and she frowns.
“Do you?”
“Yeah I have a plant in the greenhouse,” She frowns at me. “I haven’t smoked anything since my detox,” I say to her, and she slowly nods. “The meth was a long time ago,” I clarify to her. “I haven’t done Meth in a very long time, it kind of screws you up,” I state. “Plus you can’t hide a Meth addiction,” I say.
“What’s it like?”
“What? Taking Meth?” she nods. “Like cocaine really but longer, it also depends, the first time I took it; I just had this impossible amount of energy, I didn’t sleep for two days. The comedown was horrible, that’s one of the main reasons I didn’t take it often,” I explain. I look at her as we get to a traffic light. “My go-to was Heroin or Coke. Meth made my brain overthink because of all the energy and alertness. It was good to take if I wanted to figure something out as it boosts my brain into gear,”
“I see,” I see the worry on her face.
“Megan, it’s ok, I’m just trying to be open with you about it,” I say.
“If you start smoking weed again will you go back to the harder stuff?” she asks.
“No,” I start the car as the light turns green. “Weed calms me down, mostly helps me sleep,” I explain. “I don’t get addicted to it. It’s like drinking, I can have a drink and not become dependant on it,”
“Ok,” she says and movies my hand onto her lap. “On another note, I’m either bloated or have the smallest bump ever,” she says. I glance at her stomach and frown. She’s ten weeks tomorrow by the doctors say. “I think it’s bloating,” she mutters.
“Me too,” I say, and she frowns at me. “Or not,” she yawns and lays her head back.
“I’m tired,”
“Have a nap when we get home,” I’m not surprised she’s tired. She stayed up till late, studying and then when she did get to sleep, she had a nightmare.
I don’t know what to say to her with these nightmares. They’re more to do with her and her fear of failing. I’ve reassured her countless times that she will be an amazing mother. That she couldn’t fail even if she tried to. Everything she’s does she has excels at. Every day, I tell her that she will be a perfect mother, but she doesn’t seem to want to take my compliment.
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