Hi, guys! Welcome to yet another adventure. :D I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush, despite popular belief. ;)

"Did you see that a new family moved in to the house at the end of the road?" Brooke asked brightly at the dinner table.

"I only saw a lady and a boy. Maybe a man. I couldn't tell- he had one of those faces," James said. "Like he could be our age or 26."

"Like you?" Papi smirked, elbowing James. I giggled as James cocked a brow.

"I look 26?"

"Nooooo," Brooke interrupted sternly. She was so paranoid- like James would abuse that power. Like he had ever done anything bad in front of her.

"What about Carlitos?" James asked thoughtfully, staring at me and cocking his head in thought.

"Nah- Carlos has a baby face," Papi giggled, making me send him a death stare. Well, I guess I'm not buying alcohol or cigarettes anytime soon, right? Especially since my dad was a cop and my stepmom was a paranoid health-freak.

We finished the meal and it was mine and James' turn for dishes. We had to thoroughly wash the dishes with soap and steaming water before putting them in the dishwasher for a double cycle. James grew up with this as a formality, but my dad and I had never been worried about germs until a few years ago, when we moved in with the Diamond's and Brooke and my dad got married. They were a WEIRD couple- not sure how they're together. But hey, I got a step-brother out of it (to add to my three REAL brothers, all older and grown now). The downside is, with Brooke's germaphobic ways and my dad's natural cop instinct for safety, James and I were prisoners in our home.

"No video games!" Brooke said sternly as James and I went up the stairs to our room. "It's a school night!"

I rolled my eyes behind James' back. I hated Brooke. Well, she's a nice lady, but DAMN, her rules were stupid. We had to wash our hands with basically boiling water every time we entered the house, the dishes were to be spotless and germless. No video games on a school night. No grades below a B (which James and I struggled with). If you don't wash your hands and close the door after using the bathroom, you get grounded for a week.

James was used to this, but even after a few years I wasn't. Well, maybe I was USED to it, but I didn't like it one bit. James knew how I felt and helped me out a lot. Like right now, we were locking our bedroom door and were about to play video games, despite the risk of getting punished. Besides- if we were caught, my dad would stick up for us. He was cool that way, knowing what it was like being a teenage boy. However, he was a stickler for riding a helmet and elbow and knee pads on our skateboards and wearing seatbelts in the car and things like that.

"We should be studying," James said blandly from the bottom bunk- his bed- as we played.

"Yeah."

"Oh well."

I smirked from where I lay on my stomach on the top bunk- my bed- and played. James obeyed his beloved mommy most of the time, but sometimes he didn't. He really hated school, so that was a popular thing to ignore for him.

After a long time, there was a tap at the door. We knew it was Papi- he always knocked very secretively, while Brooke knocked loudly.

I hopped down from the bed and unlocked and opened the door.

"You better do good on that test tomorrow," Papi said sternly, looking past me to James playing video games. "Brooke'll be mad if you don't, and finds out you played games instead of studied."

"We will."

"Okay. Buenas noches, mijo," he smiled and I returned the favor. Ah, my dad. Sometimes when he got mad, he started ranting in Spanish and only I could understand, but even I couldn't translate sometimes. It drove Brooke up the wall, and James tried to keep up, knowing minimal Spanish from school.

"Night, Papi," I said softly.

"Get some sleep," Papi said sternly over my head to James. James threw a salute, not even looking up, making Papi smirk and roll his eyes.

"Love ya," I said to him.

"Love you," he smiled and went back toward the stairs. All that was up in the second level was mine and James' room, a bathroom, and Brooke's office. The thought of Brooke and my dad sleeping in the same bed gave me the creeps, considering I grew up with my mom being there. She lived in Florida now, though, so I don't see her much anymore. James was a bastard- literally. His parents weren't married when he was conceived and he's only seen pictures of his dad. Apparently his dad came to see him when he was a toddler, and there's a picture to prove it, but he doesn't remember it, nor does he want to. He's kind of resentful about it.

We finally decided to go to bed at about eleven that night, which really meant we turned off the lights and got in bed, but talked for a long time.

James had fallen asleep within about ten minutes and I was drifting off when I heard a loud rumbling sound outside. Curiously, I hopped down from my bunk and went to the window.

I squinted against the streetlight outside but focused on something rumbling down the street. A… Motorcycle?

I felt James stumble up behind me and look over my shoulder.

"It's the guy that moved in at the end of the street," he said gruffly. "What an asshole- doesn't he get that people are sleeping? It's late!"

I squinted to see the guy riding the motorcycle. He wore a black leather jacket and dark jeans, his hair dark and helmetless, something I could never get away with. I couldn't see his face, though.

"What a shit," I grumbled, going back to bed.

I gasped and punched the brakes the next morning in the school parking lot.

I hadn't seen the motorcycle parked in our usual spot until I just about ran over it and the rider- the same guy who was riding down the street the previous night.

The rider turned and flipped me the bird, flicking a cigarette to the pavement with his other hand and grinding it out with his boot. He had very neat hair, gelled up and almost black, a smooth and handsome face, and dark clothes, protecting him from the cool spring breeze.

James angrily returned the favor of flipping him off.

The guy swung off of his motorcycle and came at the car.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit," I whispered, hitting reverse to back up, but the guy pounded angrily on my window.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" the guy yelled.

"FUCK OFF ASSHAT!" James yelled, leaning over me. I shoved him away and fearfully continued backing the car away. The guy rolled his dark eyes and shook his head, stomping off as I directed the car to a different spot.

I stared at the new boy sitting in the desk beside me, which used to be empty and used for my books in the seat, but was now occupied by the motorcycle guy. I was scared, I have to admit.

It was the kid with the motorcycle, who tried to kill me that morning. I looked at the top of his paper to see "Logan Mitchell" scrawled on the name line.

His head snapped up and his hard black eyes stared at me. I jumped and turned back to my paper, now afraid for my life.

Kids chattered around us, supposed to be working on their chemistry worksheets, but not doing so, since we had a substitute teacher that day. I was almost finished, and I saw that the Logan kid was, too.

My eyes ventured to him a few seconds later, and I saw that he was working again. Funny- normally his type would push the work away with a sneer, refusing to do it. That, or they would attempt, completely fail at it, and quit halfway through.

Now that I was closer, I noticed a lot of details about his appearance. Like that his hair was made extremely neat, seemingly impossible. He had a black ring hugging through his bottom lip, to the right, which he bit at as he thought. He had no chains or skull rings or earrings on- his dark clothes were neat and clean, black boots on his feet.

I saw a big mass of color on his right forearm and was stunned to see that it was a tattoo. Inked permanently onto Logan's arm was a noble looking army man, looking off in the distance, holding a big flag, drawn in a boxy cartoon form, still holding dignity and seriousness. How could he get away with a tattoo AND a piercing showing? Normally that wasn't allowed at school.

"Would you stop?" Logan snapped, staring up at me. My head zipped back to my paper, a blush crossing my face. I heard him sigh a little. "Hey. What did you get for number 7?"

Surprised, I glanced down at my paper.

"23.4," I said, head bowed.

"Rad," he nodded, closing his book. RAD? Who says that? "You're the asshole how almost ran me over this morning."

"I didn't see you," I said, starting to get defensive but quickly pulling myself back.

"You guys at this shithole of a town aren't used to having to look for bikes," Logan grumbled.

"Not used to hearing them late at night, either," I mumbled.

"Yeah? I woke you up at fucking 11:30 at night?" Logan snapped, taking me off guard. I said nothing. This guy was only an inch taller than me at most, but I was so scared of him. Logan was quiet for a while. "What's your name?"

"Carlos," I said softly.

"Who was that kid in your car?"

"James. He's my stepbrother."

"Tell him that I said he's a fucking shit."

I wanted to laugh, remembering how I had called Logan the same thing the previous night, but didn't dare crack a smile.

"Where did you move here from?" I asked, not knowing if he was okay with small-talk or not, but deciding to go for it.

"Cali," Logan said simply. "I hate it here- it's cold as shit, and the people are dumbfucks."

"Where's that?"

Logan gave me a frank stare, for the first time looking into my eyes.

"California," he said blandly.

"Oh," I laughed. Logan, needless to say, didn't laugh. I cleared my throat awkwardly and searched for something else to talk about. "I like your… Tattoo."

"Ink. Not 'tattoo'," Logan mocked, not even glancing at his arm.

"Right."

Suddenly the bell sounded, making me jump but Logan simply got up and left in one fluid motion.

I got up and followed everyone out to find James waiting for me, so we could go to lunch together.

"I talked to that Logan kid today in Chem," I said casually as I pushed a cart into the chain of carts at the grocery store James and I worked at- Sherwood Grocery Store.

"Logan?" James retorted. "Who's that?"

"The one with the motorcycle?"

We pushed the chain of carts through the parking lot, which was mostly empty on that day.

"Oh. THAT shitface," James nodded. "Why would you want to talk to HIM?"

"Personally, I want to be spared when he brings a gun to school and goes on a killing spree," I said smartly.

"Whatever- he doesn't scare me. I'm a foot taller than him, I can take him easy."

"He has a tattoo," I noted. "On his forearm. It's some army guy I think."

"How special," James retorted flatly.

"And he's actually really smart," I added.

"In our grade?"

"I think he's a senior, yeah," I nodded. "And he's from California."

"I think Carlitos has a boyfriend," James smirked. "I bet his lip ring turns you on, right?"

"Totally," I said sarcastically. Maybe his APPEARANCE was attractive to me, but his attitude sure wasn't.

"If you have a taste in guys, I feel like he's it," he said matter-of-factly. Great. James has to bring up the whole "gay" thing more than he should- which is never.

"Can we not talk about this here?"

"Nobody's around," he retorted. "C'mon. Let's talk guys."

"I'm not doing this," I smirked.

"I think if I were Team Hotdog, I would go for more… Kendall type, you know?"

"Why don't you?" I giggled. "You're basically an item anyway."

"He hasn't asked me to be official yet," James lisped. I laughed, rolling my eyes. James and Kendall, had been best friends since they were kids and now that they were teenagers, they were THAT type of friends, that acted like intense lovers because they can. I thought it was hilarious, when they talked in lispy voices and slapped each other's asses and kissed one another's cheeks, although I knew they were both straight as arrows. "Besides- this isn't about ME. I wanna find you a MAN, Los, you're my bubby, I care about your love life. And considering I'm the only person on this earth that knows about you being in-the-closet, it's practically my duty."

"I don't need a MAN," I insisted. "I'm just trying to graduate with passable grades at this point."

"Okay," he said, unconvinced, as he pushed the heavy chain of carts slowly. "But theoretically, what's your type, according to YOU?"

"What do you mean 'according to me'?"

"I know your type. I just wanna see if YOU do."

I sighed, rolling my eyes and thinking. What type of guy do I like? Had I ever even thought about this? I wasn't really ACTIVELY gay- I just found men more attractive than women, is all.

Well, let's see. There's the "Kendall type", which James mentioned, that played guitar and wore yarn bracelets and beanies- the cross between hippie, hipster, and punk-rocker. Then there's the "Logan type"- the bad boy. The "James type" is probably the pretty boy- the jokester, maybe. I really like the appearance of bad boys, I have to admit. The tousled, dark, I-don't-care look. However, of course, bad boys have bad attitudes, and there's a point where that stops being sexy and starts getting irritating.

"I dunno," I sighed. "Just… Someone sweet, you know? That isn't afraid to be romantic. And he's gotta be nice."

"Nyaaaaaw," James mock-melted. "So sweet."

"Okay, not talking about this anymore."

"It's so fun to have a gay brother," James said thoughtfully. "And it's especially fun when I'm the only person who can harass him about it."

"I know the feeling."

James laughed and socked me in the shoulder, making me wince and punch him back.

"But you're wrong," he said matter-of-factly. "You're describing yourself, and you can't date yourself. I've tried."

"So then, WHAT, dear lord James?" I retorted.

"You need someone who's gonna make you do adventurous stuff," he said as if painting a picture for me. "Someone BAD, but not TOO bad. Someone who's gonna make you LIVE, you know? Someone exactly like Logan. I bet Logan would take you outta your Goodie Two-Shoes shell and take you for a ride on his bike, in all ways possible, if you know what I mean."

"Except Logan scares me and I think he probably hangs the skins of gays he's killed on his walls to remind him of how much he HATES homos," I grumbled. "I'm positive he's one of THOSE guys."

"So you're not interested in him. Good. That just means I don't have to talk to him to try to set you up."

"You're not setting me up with ANYONE."

"Eventually- I'll find you a sexy bad boy."

"Not eventually."

"See, that's what you THINK, but you're so cute when you're wrong."

What did you think of the first chapter? :D Next one we'll be meeting Kendall and get a lot more of Logan, of course.

I hope you all love this story! If you're someone who reads all my stuff, welcome back to this crazy adventure and thanks for staying with me! If you're new, I'm so excited for you to kinda get to know my writing style, and I have plenty more if you wanna check it out. :)

Okay, well I hope you all review and let me know what you think, and if you have any ideas or anything, I'm totally open.