Brandon cleared his throat and said, “See you later, then.”
She offered a quick wave and that was that. Brandon climbed into the Neon and carefully pulled away from the Bates. Logan watched him turn left toward the highway and made a mental note of it. Either he was making a trip into the city or he was heading out toward the lake. Toward the cabin.
Behind her, Alejo cleared his throat. He stood in the doorway of room eight dressed in a plaid robe, shoulder-length hair still wet from the shower. He motioned to the curb she squatted on. “That looks comfortable.”
“It’s great.”
“You could make more of an effort.”
Logan arched a brow. “To what?”
“Your dad just tried to have a conversation with you, or did you miss that?” Alejo leaned against the doorframe. “He’s trying. You could try, too.”
“Me and him are fine.”
“Logan.”
“What? Sorry I’m not super talkative all the time. I hate it here. I just sit around with nothing to do.” Logan took another sip of coffee and stared out at the soft glow of the horizon. This wasn’t usually how she talked to Alejo—this ire was usually reserved for homophobes on her dads’ Twitter page—but she was tired of this. She was tired of being treated like she was the unreasonable one when she was being lied to and shut down left and right. She was tired of being the bad guy.
Alejo shifted. “I get that you’re bored, but you don’t have to sit around all day. You could apply for schools.”
“To do what?”
“I don’t know. You like history,” Alejo said. “It’s probably too late for fall term, but you could still get in for spring. I loved college. You might learn a lot about yourself.”
“I already know all about me.” Logan leaned back and closed her eyes. “And besides, I’m on my gap year.”
“Jesus,” Alejo said, covering his mouth to stifle a laugh. “Why don’t you come inside for some coffee?”
Logan raised her mug. “Already got some.”
“Let me rephrase—come inside. We need to talk.”
Logan pushed herself up from the curb and followed Alejo inside. Where she’d at least made an effort to humanize her room, Brandon and Alejo had seemingly done the opposite. The walls were bare, beds clean and precisely made, motel toiletries untouched. It was the kind of room she’d seen in crime shows when a secret agent wanted to fly under the radar. They’d been at the Bates for almost a month, and Brandon had been here even longer.
Something was off.
Alejo pulled out a seat at their window-side table and motioned for Logan to sit. “I’m just making a pot. You want a refill?”
“Uh, sure,” Logan said. “You guys are keeping it super clean in here.”
“Yeah, well…” Alejo slid into the seat across from her. The sunlight was copper over his face. “I lived in this motel my whole life before I met your dad. I’m not exactly thrilled to be back here. This helps me remember it’s temporary.”
“Oh,” Logan said. “I didn’t know you lived here here.”
“I told you Gracia is mi tía,” Alejo said. “When I was a kid, this motel was mostly us Ortizes. Me and my parents lived on the other side of the motel.” He looked around. “I don’t remember if anyone lived in this one. Might’ve been empty back then.”
“Wait.” Logan’s brow furrowed. “Do I have more family here?”
Alejo’s expression was wistful. “Ah, well, my parents moved away from Snakebite a long time ago. I don’t know where. They didn’t tell me. But Gracia is our family. Elexis is your cousin. Nice to know we’re not totally alone, right?”