~ Dedicated to rhys_ismybabe for taking the time to read my stories. Check out her book, When the Stars End. The main character in this story is absolutely hilarious and so badass.

It was cold outside. Too cold to be outdoors. I wrapped my fingers around my mug and allowed the warmth to sink into my skin. I sighed. Snuggling deeper into my blanket, I thought about what it must look like outside tonight.

Maybe the snow had already covered the streets like a soft white blanket. The Christmas lights probably twinkled brightly in the darkness. Perhaps Logan had wrapped his lights around his stupid snowman. God. I missed seeing that snowman.

My sister had once said that if I was really quiet, I could hear the snow. I held my breath and sat still. It was silent. I reached out my hand and felt the snowflakes fall onto my fingertips. They melted as soon as they touched my warm skin.

"Casey? What are you doing outside?" a rough voice asked. I turned in the direction of the voice and squinted my eyes. It was no use. There was just darkness in front of me.

"I thought I was the blind one. Not you," I spat back. It didn't take long for me to figure out who it was. Logan Lockwood, my stupid neighbor. "What do you want, Logan?"

"Well. As a caring and righteous neighbor, I thought it best fit to see what my lovely blind neighbor was up to," Logan mused. "Especially at two in the morning."

"The better question is, what are you doing here?" I mumbled, pulling my blanket closer around my shoulders. "Didn't your family go to Hawaii or something?"

"It was actually Costa Rica but who cares if I couldn't go, right? Definitely not me." I looked at him. Or at least where I thought he was standing. "Fine. I got uninvited because I poured beer down my brothers' pants."

"So you got stuck house sitting?" I snorted. He was probably jutting out his lower lip. "Serves you right, you little shit."

"Hey. Not cool, Casey," he said. "How about you?"

"What about me?"

"Where is your family at?" Logan took a seat beside me, causing my body to tense up. Shivers ran down my spine and I scooched away from him. I had grown up with this guy but it had been more than two years since I'd seen him. Like literally seen him. I wonder what he looked like. Maybe he had grown out his blonde hair, or his thin face had become sharper with age. Perhaps glasses covered his mischievous grey eyes that always managed to make me smile. 

"Who's asking?" I snapped. The anger that I felt towards Logan was threatening to bear its ugly head. It had been boiling inside of me for so long. So long. Now that Logan was sitting beside me I couldn't contain it.

"Me. I'm asking," he chuckled.

I sighed heavily and placed my mug on the side. "If you are really concerned, my parents and sister are at my grandparents' house."

"I was actually very concerned. How come you didn't go with them?"

"I didn't want to," I said dryly. I imagined him nodding his head. We both sat still in the suffocating silence for a minute. "How's New York?" I finally asked.

"It's awesome. My roommate is hilarious. You would love him," Logan answered, slapping his knee lightly.

"Good for you, Logan," I whispered, tucking my nose into my coat.

"How about you? What are you up to these days?" he asked. "Did you get out of this town where nothing grows?"

I turned to glare at him. "I planted a fucking tree at the edge of our driveway last summer. It grew perfectly fine. I have no idea what you are talking about."

"It's dead right now," Logan responded. His forehead was probably etched with lines right now. Just like it always would when he was trying to figure something out. It used to make him look much older than he actually was.

"No, really? Of course, it's dead right now, idiot! It's winter."

He fell quiet. "What happened to you?" he asked with a twinge of sadness in his voice. I clenched my jaw but stayed quiet. "You used to be so much fun and your sarcasm was actually funny, not mean."

"What do you what from me? I got sick. So sick that I went blind. Then my best friend moved to New York when we promised each other that we would go together." My throat felt scratchy and I clamped my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted was for Logan to see me cry.

"Oh," Logan said, which fueled my rage towards him. After all this time, that was all he had to say. During high school, Logan and I promised each other that we would go to art school together. Except things didn't turn out the way we wanted them to.

"Two years, Logan. I haven't heard from you in two years. What happened to calling every night?" My voice was soft and empty of emotion but my heart was hurting.

"We did talk for a few months after I left. Things got pretty busy after that, Casey," he said quietly.

"It's Cassidy," I seethed. "I tried calling you but you didn't pick up, ever."

"What do you want me to say, Casey?"

"I don't know. You can start by apologizing," I muttered.

He sighed. "I'm sorry, Casey. I'm sorry for leaving to New York. I'm sorry that I didn't call. And I'm sorry that you got sick."

"It's Cassidy," I said.

"Since when?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"Since you left," I answered. I remembered when I first moved to this neighborhood and I met Logan. We were only seven. When I told him my name he had given me the nickname Casey.

"How's the violin playing?" Logan asked, shuffling beside me. He was probably waving his hands in front of him, pretending to play the violin. My lip twitched into a smile at the thought. Then I remembered that I was mad at him so I crossed my arms.

"Why do you care?" I asked.

"Because you are my friend and I want to know how things are with you." I snorted at his words and stood up. "What?"

"Nothing," I muttered and put out my hand to catch more snowflakes. "How come you didn't come to visit your family for the last two years?" He stayed quiet but I heard him moving to get up.

"I missed you," he whispered, ignoring my question. I closed my eyes at his words and wrapped my arms around the pillar.

"You didn't answer my question," I said, squeezing my arms tighter around the pillar. When I was younger I couldn't fit my tiny arms around it. Twenty-year-old me didn't have a problem doing it.

"I couldn't come back. It hurt too much." My heart skipped a beat but I didn't say anything.

"Did you make it this year?" I asked softly, looking out to where I thought his snowman stood.

"What?" Logan said, coming up behind me.

"The Snowman."

"Yeah. I did," he said sadly.

"How does it look?"

"My brother helped me make it. We dressed it up like Mickey Mouse," he answered. "A drunk Mickey Mouse," he added.

"Nice," I said and pushed away from the pillar. Forgetting that Logan was standing behind me, I bumped into him. He let out a yelp and wrapped an arm around my waist. My body froze at the weight of his arm and I wanted nothing more than to sink into him. I missed him so much but he had hurt me, left me when I needed him the most. "Don't," I whispered. He released me with a sigh.

"So what are you doing these days?" he asked again.

"I'm taking some violin classes at the community college. I might teach kids how to play later on." It was too cold to be outside so I moved to go indoors, pushing open the door easily. "I have to go now, Logan."

"Wait. That's it? I wanted to tell you so many things about New York." He grabbed onto my sleeve lightly and I pulled it away quickly. The warm air from inside hit me and I sighed, craving another hot chocolate and my cat. Where was that little bugger anyways?

"I don't want to talk to you about New York, Logan. I want to go to sleep and I hate you. So yeah. See you later."

"Aw. Do you hate me? That's not what I remember you saying two years ago. You know in my bathroom?" I froze at his words and tried to stay grounded. Thinking about the past was not going to get me anywhere. Logan walked away from me, from what we had and there was no point in igniting that spark between us. That flame had died long ago.

"Don't go there, asshole. Both of us were drunk," I yelled and reached out to shove him but my hands met air, making my heart jump. My body tumbled forward and rammed into Logan, who laughed at my clumsiness.

"Can I please come in?" he asked again, his mouth near my ear this time. "I can make you hot chocolate."

"Fine but after that you leave and never come back, okay? You hurt me once and I am not going to let you do it again. I'm happy with my life right now," I stated, my hand on my hip. Logan remained quiet and that scared me. He didn't want the same thing as me.

"Fair enough," he muttered finally and I breathed a sigh of relief. This was just going to be two friends meeting up for hot chocolate after years of not seeing each other. Nothing more and nothing less.

"Come inside, Low-key," I ordered, using his old nickname. Shutting the door behind me, I tapped the table beside it three times. It was an old habit, something I had done since I was a kid.

"Hey. You still do that," Logan whispered.

Ignoring him I asked, "What have you been up to in New York?" Pausing to cross my arms I added, "Not that I care."

"I joined a band," he said, probably with a shrug.

"Really? That's cool Logan. You probably sing crappy songs."

"For your information, the guys and I sound pretty good. Or at least we did before I quit."

"Sure you did. Your music taste is pretty screwed up. So I don't know, man." I laughed. A real laugh. Then I clamped my mouth shut.

"I can play some of our songs for you later if you want," he said, kicking his shoes off. The only reason I know this is because I heard his boot hitting against the wall. My mom would probably kill him if she was here to see that. "Sorry," Logan said sheepishly.

Pulling my shoes off and placing my hands on the wall for support, I gestured for Logan to follow me. Years in this small house had allowed me to memorize its layout by heart. It was the only place I forgot that I was blind.

"Do you want me to make you hot chocolate?" Logan asked, dragging a chair across the floor. I winced at the noise.

"I'm blind, Logan not deaf," I stated, pointing in the direction of his chair. "And no. I will make the hot chocolate."

"Whatever you say, Mom."

"Fuck you," I muttered before grabbing two mugs from the cupboard. "So what's your plan after school?" I asked, wondering if he still wanted to pursue a career in music.

He stayed quiet while I shuffled around the tiny kitchen, feeling for the cylinder that held the cocoa powder. Anybody else would have freaked out about a blind girl manning the stove. My family and friends knew that it pissed me off when people questioned my abilities. "Can we talk about something else," he snapped.

"Somebody is in a crappy mood," I teased, slamming the microwave door shut and imagining Logan jumping.

"Jeez. You still slam that thing. I'm surprised it hasn't broken yet." Sneering at him, I prepared two cups of hot chocolate. I could feel his eyes on me. The air between us was heavy with unspoken words.

Having Logan in my kitchen wasn't doing me any favors. Him leaving for college had shattered me into tiny little pieces. I had worked too hard on building myself up again after that only to have him tear me down again. My life, as boring as it was, was safe and Logan free. That was exactly how it should be.

Sliding into the chair, I placed a cup in front of him along with a napkin. We were silent as we sipped our drinks. Logan let out a long sigh. "How is your sister liking Astrology?"

"Astronomy, dumbass. My sister is studying Astronomy," I replied. My voice was snarky but lacked roughness. I almost sounded like I did before Logan left. I could feel myself slipping, wholeheartedly embracing how familiar Logan felt.

"Yeah, that." He laughed and set the cup down.

"She is liking it a lot. She got engaged last month to a kid in her program," I said. My sister's life was perfect. She was beautiful, smart and funny. People loved her. The only imperfection in her life was me. Sometimes when she would tell me about her gorgeous boyfriend, I couldn't help but feel bitter. I loved her and hoped the best for her but I just felt...jealous.

"Really? That's awesome," he replied, genuinely sounding happy at the news of my sister's engagement. Ever since I lost my sight, my other senses seemed to have heightened. Right now, I could hear Logan playing with the napkin.

"I guess," I replied.

"How about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you with someone right now?" The question caught me off guard.

"Next question," I spat, setting my own cup down. I rubbed at my eyes. My lack of sleep was getting to me.

Logan chuckled to himself like I had said the funniest thing in the world. His fingers gripped mine then and I wanted to pull my hand away. But something stopped me, something I thought had died a long time ago after Logan left. "Here," he said, dropping the napkin into my hand. Without even running my fingers over it, I knew what it was.

It was a paper plane. Logan was obsessed with making them since the sixth grade. I didn't pay much attention to them at first. I would toss them into the recycling bin as I rolled my eyes. When we hit high school, I started collecting them, tossing them into a shoe box under my bed at the end of the day.

Sighing, I fingered the plane before getting up from my seat. After multiple unanswered calls and sleepless nights, I asked my sister to hide the box. She hadn't done a very good job because I found it only a week after. The box was hidden under the sink, behind dish detergents and ratty old dish towels.

Opening the lid, I dropped the freshly made plane into it and closed the box. Turning around, I placed the box in front of Logan without saying a word. I heard him open the box and let out a low whistle. "You kept them all?" he asked. I shrugged my shoulders.

"When you go back to New York, please take this with you. I want you to have it."

"About that," he replied. "I'm not going back. I dropped out of college," he finished. His response took me by surprise and send a wave of relief to course through me. "It wasn't what I expected it to be, Casey."

"But studying music was your dream," I whispered. His fingers tapped the box as he considered my words.

Pushing the box towards me, he laughed. "Keep this. I am not going back. I am staying here with you and there is nothing you can do about it." He seemed so certain, so sure of his decision.

"Logan," I said. "Please don't give up on your dreams because of me."

He placed his hand on mine and I melted. "You were the only dream that mattered."