I sat up straight and looked at her with mock seriousness. "Alright, let's get to it. Five bucks' worth of truth!"
She rolled her eyes in disdain. "Oh, please!"
I feigned firmness. "That's your call, babe. No chat, it's bedtime. I'm hanging up!"
She let out a dramatic groan. "Wait, wait! Aaliyah, Ms. Wilburn, don't play me like that!" With that, she sat up, her face suddenly all business. "Let's talk, sis, spill it!"
I snorted, thinking. 'I've got your number.'
"Spill, then!" I said, with the patience of a confidant, my tone soothing, my demeanor gentle. Suddenly, I felt like I'd stumbled onto a new career—hosting one of those late-night radio talk shows for the lovelorn.
With a heavy sigh, she began, "Allie, I just don't get it. I'm stuck, like there's this giant chasm I can't cross!"
"What's the deal? Spill it, and cut to the chase. It's way past my bedtime," I urged her.
"It's Logan. He's playing hot and cold with me!" Catherine blurted out, her voice thick with anguish.
I was skeptical. "What do you mean, 'playing'? That doesn't sound like Logan at all."
"He's just... I don't know. If you were to say he's not into me, you'd be dead wrong. He's there for me, offering his jacket when I'm cold, asking if I'm okay, warning me against unsafe places, telling me who to avoid. If I'm working late, he offers a ride home 'cause it's 'on his way'. Some guy hassles me, and Logan's ready to throw punches..."
I looked at Catherine, startled, and thought, 'Isn't it obvious to show his love? Isn't she being a bit too dramatic? Does he have to spell it out for her?' But I kept quiet, letting her continue.
"All these things... Tell me, isn't this what someone with feelings would do?" Catherine pressed, her eyes wide and earnest.
I nodded, and only then did she continue. "But then, if you think he's got a thing for me, why does he keep telling me to 'grow up' and 'find a good man to settle down with'?"
I paused, perplexed by his words.
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