One of the Guys Read online

  One of The Guys

  One Of The Guys

  By

  Dawn Doyle

  Copyright © 2015 Dawn Doyle

  This is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  This book is dedicated to my Granddad, George.

  I know you’re watching over me from your big fluffy cloud in the sky & pushing me in the right direction.

  XxXxX

  Prologue

  Let me introduce myself.

  My name is Chase.

  Chase Marie McKay to be exact, and I want to tell you my story.

  It all started in junior year of high school. Actually, it was Freshman year during a class project, but things changed a lot at the end of junior year.

  My best friend is Logan Blackwood. Yeah a guy.

  Our class project brought us together.

  However, things changed; I changed. You could say I went a little off the rails. Ok, a lot off the rails; for me anyway.

  There’s more to this story than just a teenage girl going into a stupor, so I guess I better start from somewhere near the beginning. After all, you need to know why I did what I did.

  Chapter 1

  I sat in my room, at my desk, and remembered the first time I met Logan, my BFF.

  It was freshman year of high school, and I thought he was drop-dead-gorgeous even then.

  I was really shy at the beginning of high school, ok, most of high school, and I hadn’t really spoken to anybody what with my shyness and different taste in clothes. I was more like a tomboy and always wore clothes that hid my body well.

  I wore combat style pants or jeans and different styles of T-shirt or button down shirts.

  Also, I never wore my hair out. It was either in a ponytail or a braid. Or even a pony-braid. Yeah, I liked to mix it up.

  When my hair was loose, at home, it skimmed my ass. It was long, too long, but I liked it that way. It wasn’t all one length, mind you, I didn’t look like cousin IT. I had some shorter layers cut around the sides and front to add a little texture. That was what the stylist person recommended, and I couldn’t be bothered talking about it, so I just let them do whatever as long as it stayed long and the one color.

  Anyway, we’d been in school for about two months when he asked me whether he could borrow a pen.

  “Hey Chase, can I borrow a pen please?” Logan asked.

  Nice manners I thought to myself.

  I was lost for a second when he spoke. He hadn’t said more than ‘hey’ to me since we started, and he’d sat at the table next to mine.

  Then, he smiled.

  Not a huge smile but enough to get my heart racing. I reached into my bag and got out a pen.

  “Here.” I said, passing it to him.

  “Thanks.” He took the pen and, still looking at me, he put the capped end into his mouth and pulled the lid off between his teeth.

  His beautiful, straight, white teeth.

  I looked away and got back to my work, trying to look as though I wasn’t affected at all.

  I was only fourteen, and I had just gotten my first crush.

  It was that same afternoon when in another of our classes that day, History, all of us had to pair up for a project. We were to research and put together a paper on the civil war of 1861-1865.

  The teacher picked names out at random and, to my surprise, I was paired with Logan.

  He hadn’t said anything, but the guy next to him laughed and said, “That sucks dude.”

  Did it suck to be paired with me? Am I so bad? I thought to myself. They don’t even know me.

  I tried to let it go although I wondered if what he’d said was true.

  Luckily, Logan didn’t seem to mind. All the other boys, and some girls, snickered under their breaths, and he didn’t even respond. That made me like him even more.

  We met up in the library, during lunch, and decided we would study at my house after school.

  It turned out to be fun. My Kitten, Ruffles, adored him and purred at his side the entire time he was there.

  When he left, my Dad took him home and then Logan texted me when he got there. He said he had fun studying and that I was pretty cool.

  I was so happy!

  So, after two weeks, we turned in our paper and we both got an A.

  I was sad when it was done, but Logan said it’d be cool if we hung out sometimes. He liked my music, rock of course, and my kitten.

  So we did.

  It’s not what you think. Logan never tried anything, and he never asked me out though I wished he did. We just watched TV or studied. The usual things friends did.

  We even went to his house to play basketball and video games.

  His older brother, Matt, teased Logan saying I was his girlfriend. Logan made it very clear I wasn’t.

  “She’s my friend, Matt. Guys can have girls as friends you know!”

  I just stood and watched as Matt made kissing noises at us and I felt embarrassed. Logan didn’t just stand there though. He pushed Matt hard enough to knock him on his ass.

  “Don’t embarrass Chase again, asshole!” He shouted at him. Logan was furious. He’d seen my blush.

  He was so sweet.

  Matt looked genuinely surprised as he got up. He mumbled something about Logan being a ‘fuck-face’, I think, and stormed away, glaring at me as he went.

  I really didn’t like Matt. He was a senior and, luckily, I didn’t see him around school.

  And that was how we spent our time together.

  Between his other friends and my gymnastics, we hung out just like normal friends did. He wouldn’t blow me off for the other guys, either. If we had plans, they couldn’t get him to leave me. The same with them too. If he had plans with them, I wouldn’t even think about asking him to stay with me instead.

  I often wondered, back then, why I couldn’t hang out with the other guys too. Eventually they accepted me though. It took a while, and Logan never told me why they’d suddenly changed their minds.

  My trip down memory lane was interrupted when my Mom knocked on my bedroom door.

  “Chase, Logan’s here.” She said through the wood.

  My heart hammered in my chest as I jumped from my seat.

  “Send him up.” I said as calm as I could, grabbing my Black Veil Brides T-shirt and quickly pulling it over my head.

  It hung loosely, covering my ass. I checked in the mirror.

  All hidden away, just how I liked it.

  I wasn’t ashamed of my body. In fact, I was in pretty good shape. Ten years of gymnastics had kept me strong and flexible. However, when I’d finally started to blossom, at age fifteen, I filled out almost immediately.

  I’d had no boobs.

  I’m not kidding. I even heard some guys saying I should be called ‘Holland’ because I was so flat.

  So, one day, I had no boobs and then the next… I started growing and didn’t stop for a while. I went from nothing to having an impressive set of bad girls in less than a month. Then, they continued to grow for a couple of months after.

  Logan hadn’t noticed. At least I don’t think he did. He never said anything and he never looked. I was just his friend, nothing more.

  As I stood and looked at myself in the mirror, I rounded my shoulders to hide my boobs away. They were huge.

  “Hey Chase.” Logan’s smooth, deep voice came from the doorway, sending my nerves into overdrive. His voice was so different from when we’d first met, obviously, and it was seriously sexy.

  “Hey Logan.” I said, trying to keep
as calm as I could.

  He flopped down on my bed, as usual, and picked up my pillow, placing it across his lap.

  I never understood why he did that. He even did it in his own bedroom and with the throw cushions on the sofa.

  “You know, you’re supposed to rest on a pillow, not cover yourself with it.” I snorted a laugh.

  “I know.” He said, looking slightly embarrassed. “It’s just something I do.”

  “I know. If you’re cold you could just pull my bed cover over you.”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He said, dismissing my suggestion.

  I was glad he did that with my pillow, actually. It always smelled like him when he put it back.

  “I see you’re wearing your shirt.” He smiled.

  Logan had bought it for my birthday, just before the beginning of the school year, and I had bought him an ‘Asking Alexandria’ one for his. We had the same birthday and got each other similar things. Our mutual love for the bands ensured we’d have a good supply.

  For Christmas, I was to get him ‘Black veil Brides’ and he was to get me ‘Asking Alexandria’. Different artwork though.

  I know it takes out the surprise, but that first Christmas after becoming friends, we’d gotten each other a band T-shirt and it stuck from there.

  “Yes; of course.” I said, looking down at my shirt.

  Logan smiled and unzipped his navy blue hoodie, causing me to whimper internally. He was wearing his shirt too.

  I almost complained, out loud, wanting him to take his jacket off completely when he zipped it up again.

  We were going out to watch motocross racing.

  No, it wasn’t illegal, or anything. My Dad bought me two tickets so we could go to the race.

  Even thought the weather was getting warmer, and it hardly ever got cold enough for a thick coat, there was a chill in the air and the dirt track would get us muddy from last night’s rainfall.

  Instead of wallowing in thoughts that would never be, I turned into my closet and pulled out my oversized dark red hoodie and put it on.

  “Ready?” Logan asked as I grabbed my phone and keys.

  “Yep. Let’s go dude.” I said in my best ‘bro’ voice making him laugh. After all, I was ‘one of the guys’.

  *****

  Logan drove his car the few miles to the race.

  It had been set up way ahead of schedule so that the bikers could practice. There were a few dangerous turns, and the event organizers were worried about people getting seriously hurt, or worse, because of the unusual wet weather we’d had lately.

  I didn’t mind the rain though, because it meant that when we hung out, it was indoors and there were just us. Unless we were at his house, and the other guys showed up that is.

  The bad thing, there, was that Matt would sometimes make an appearance. He was just as arrogant as ever, even after graduation and starting college.

  “Hey shortie.” He’d say to me and not in an endearing way. It didn’t matter that when I’d start to develop I’d had a growth spurt and was four inches taller within a year. I went from five-two, to just over five-six. Even Logan had still only been five-ten then. Now, he was six-two and towered over me again.

  When Logan and I were in the kitchen, Matt would lean on his elbows, on the counter, with a shit-eating grin and look me up and down. I don’t know why because nobody else did. Guys, I mean. No guy ever gave me a second glance but Matt.

  I had a strong feeling it was to piss off Logan because he knew he hated it.

  Matt looking at me like that, just emphasized the fact that I am, indeed, a girl.

  I didn’t like the way he looked at me. Especially when I was only sixteen at the time and he was almost twenty.

  It wasn’t long that his somewhat ‘playful’ nickname for me changed to something else; something disgusting.

  He called me ‘cock-block’ saying that nobody would date Logan because of me and that I was a hindrance.

  Secretly, I was happy about it. Not the name, no that was just gross and I didn’t like the way Matt made it sound as if I were a burden to Logan and his chances of ‘getting laid’. It was the thought that Logan wouldn’t date anybody.

  I really hated Matt. He made me feel bad about myself.

  Recently, he’d moved out and gotten a job after college, and we hardly saw him, but his comments over the years had always played on my mind.

  “This is so awesome.” Logan said when we got out of the car. His eyes lighting up and a huge grin across his gorgeous face. I watched as he ran a hand through his almost black hair.

  It had gotten longer, falling into his eyes at the front, but I liked it. The back and sides had been cut shorter, blending in with the longer top.

  I was tempted to run my hand through it too.

  “Um… where do we go?” I asked, halting my thoughts of things I wanted to do to my best friend.

  “This way.” He said, pointing to the signs showing where the entrance booths were.

  We gave our tickets and found our way to the track. I noticed a few people glancing our way. Probably wondering what Logan was doing with a girl like me. I would wonder it too if I were them.

  Logan: the hot, gorgeous baseball player, and me: the plain girl in too big clothing.

  Just another feeling I tried to swallow. Logan was my best friend for almost three years and if I allowed myself to wallow in the bad feelings I had he might feel bad too, and I didn’t want that.

  “Here.” He said, putting his arm around my shoulder. Not like the way a couple would, but more to steer me in the right direction because as soon as I turned… he dropped his hand.

  “What are you doing for junior prom?” He asked me suddenly, and I was surprised.

  I studied his face as he looked ahead. He didn’t look nervous or shy. This was normal conversation so I don’t know why I had churning feelings in my stomach. He wasn’t going to ask me.

  Just breathe Chase. I thought, trying to calm myself.

  “The usual, you?” I asked, as if I didn’t care.

  The usual was sitting at home, eating pizza, and playing video games or watching a movie.

  “The usual too, if that’s ok?”

  “Sure, why wouldn’t it be?”

  Logan and I didn’t go to high school dances. Not like he was short of options. I think our entire female year wanted to ask him, or him to ask them, but he never went.

  I; on the other hand, had never been asked to a dance. Not even once. I think Logan took pity on me.

  The spring dance, during freshman year, he asked whether I had been asked by anybody. I told him no, and I thought that he was going to.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he suggested we both hung out at his house.

  He’d been asked, but he said he didn’t like dances so he’d never go.

  “You know, just in case somebody had asked you to go with them.” He said bringing me back to the present.

  Logan seemed indifferent, as though he was just discussing plans with one of his other friends.

  “Logan.” I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “We’ve been friends since the beginning of high school. Out of all the dances, how many have I been to?” I asked rhetorically.

  He snorted a laugh and smiled.

  “So what movie do you want to see?”

  “Who asked you?” I asked before I could stop my stupid mouth from opening.

  “What?” He looked surprised; his eyes widening and I noticed a flush across his cheeks.

  “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I just want you to know that you don’t have to stay with me. If you want to go then, you should.”

  “I don’t want to. You know that, Chase.”

  “But you were asked.”

  His silence told me that he had.

  “Seriously, Logan. You don’t have to try to make me feel better because I wasn’t.”

  He looked at me then. His blue eyes, with a darker circle of blue around the irises bore into min
e; a small frown on his face.

  “Nobody asked you?” He asked as if he didn’t believe me.

  “Nobody ever has, Logan, and you know it.” I tried to play it as though I didn’t care.

  But I did.

  Although I would say no, so I could stay with Logan; it would be nice for somebody to actually want me to go with them. But, I guess that’s what happened when your only friends were guys and you wore clothes to hide away in.

  Logan looked down to the floor for a second before looking away. I thought I saw an angry expression on his face, but then he turned back with a smile.

  “It’s starting.” He said happily when the commentator’s voice came through the loudspeakers.

  We looked up to the huge screen and saw the dirt bikes lined up, the riders revving their engines.

  This was it. Twenty minutes of pure adrenaline and about four-seconds of it would be up close.

  Another screen was split for each rider. A mounted camera on their bikes so all spectators could see everything.

  There was a bang, and the race began. We could hear the engines roaring in the distance.

  Logan and I stood at the side of the track, behind the safety barriers, and watched the split screen.

  We were routing for number five to win. His name was Jez, and he was famous for motocross racing throughout the state.

  The cameras changed regularly on the bigger screen, showing one racer at a time close-up.

  “Oh my God!” Logan gasped when one racer took a corner too sharply and almost came off their bike.

  I could feel his body heat behind me as we were turned into the direction of the track, waiting for the few seconds that the bikes would come hurtling past us at one-hundred miles per hour.