I remember when I first met Logan Sparrow. It was at the park just at the corner of Third Avenue. I’ll never forget. It was cloudy, the wind was chilly, and the park empty except for my dad and me. I was seven, playing by myself in the sandpit and failing to build a sandcastle. It was honestly more just a heap of sand that I had managed to pile up.
Then he came. Logan. This kid with light blond hair like the colour of the inside of a banana peel and almond brown eyes. I’d never seen him before in the neighbourhood until that day. This kid, Logan, showed up with his mom.
I must’ve been staring because his mom smiled at me and gave her son a slight nudge in my direction.
“Go say hi!” I heard her say.
Little Logan slowly wobbled over with a hand hiding part of his face. I assumed he was shy, and for some reason, I felt nervous. I glanced back at my dad, sitting on a bench near me, and he just nodded with a smile.
I looked back at Logan, who took his time, staring up at a nearby tree as he rubbed his nose. I gulped. It was silly how I felt scared. I had met many new kids, but Logan was somehow different.
Finally, he stood in front of me, still scratching his nose. Our eyes met and he stared silently. It was weird. I waited for him to say something, but he never did. So, I decided to speak first.
“Hello,” I uttered nervously. “I’m Asher. What’s your name?”
Logan’s eyes widened at me for a moment. He lowered his hand away from his face, and his mouth opened.
“Ah!” he said and then paused.
“Ah-?” I began to question.
“Ah-choo!” he sneezed.
This kid sneezed so hard, he almost went flying backward and barely managed to catch his balance.
I didn’t actually see this because I had closed my eyes, but I heard his feet in the sand as he stumbled back. I closed my eyes because sitting in front of him in the sand, I received the full spray of his sneeze. I opened my eyes and blinked slowly in shock, feeling my face was wet, and something worse was sliding through my hair.
Logan’s mom squealed and rushed over, and I felt my dad behind me.
“I’m so sorry!” his mom apologized while digging frantically through her purse for tissues.
“It’s okay. Don’t worry!” Dad said. He was slightly laughing.
“I’m Emma, and this is my son, Logan.” she gave my dad a few tissues before bending down to wipe Logan’s face.
“Emma?” Dad repeated. “Cool. I’m Robert, and this is my son, Asher.” he started wiping my face and cleaning the glob of snot from my hair.
“I really am sorry,” Emma sighed. “Lolo has a bit of a cold.”
“No worries,” Dad said. “It’s the season.”
My dad and Emma continued to exchange words as I continued to watch Logan. He was back to rubbing his nose. He still hadn’t said anything, but I knew then as he sniffled that this kid was special.
I didn’t understand until later just how special this kid would be to me. The problem was... while I was unknowingly checking out Logan, my dad was checking out Emma.
As years passed, Emma and Logan would come over frequently. I got more and more attached to Logan while Dad got more and more involved with Emma.
Dad had told me they started dating. Honestly, I didn’t understand what that meant. I was a kid. I didn’t know what it meant to date until I was around twelve years old.
It was around that time when I was in sixth grade that I realized why Logan, the kid that sneezed on me at the park at the corner of Third Avenue, was so special. In sixth grade, I had a crush on Logan Sparrow. It was also in sixth grade when my Dad proposed to Emma.
When Logan and I were both fourteen, my dad and Emma married.
I’m sixteen now, and my feelings for Logan haven’t changed. If anything, they have gotten stronger. I tell people that I love my brother all the time. They don’t realize that well...
I love my brother.
I really love my brother.
I wanna fuck him.