I LOVE WRITING NEW STORIES. 3
I will continue my other ones, don't worry, because now I'm on summer vacation. ;D
Now WARNING: Contains SLASH, so if you don't like, don't read!
IT'S A KOGAN FANFIC, YAYY. ;D
Everyone loves Kogan because Kendall and Logan are meant for each other, whereas Carlos and James are the perfect couple.
Enjoy!

Well, I'm back. Back to my hometown with the people I grew up with. Here's the story: I used to have "friends." And when I say friends, I use that term oh so very lightly. They weren't actually my friends, hence the usage of quotation marks. It was just a group of guys I grew up with my entire life. Their names were Kendall, Carlos, and James. Let me start off by saying that each one them was on their own fucking level of mean. Kendall was like the pack leader. Carlos and James pretty much acted like his bitches and did whatever the fuck Kendall wanted them to do. But don't get me wrong; they definitely didn't let Kendall think for them. If I could use one word to describe him, it'd just be "dick." He, along with the rest of the douchebags, pelted me with rocks, egged me on my birthday, and publicly humiliated me in front of the girl I liked. They may seem like minor offense, but hey! I was nine, and that was the worst thing that could happen to me. Did I mention I despise them? Don't give me the "kids are just kids" speech because I swear I will cut you. You don't think I've tried to tell myself that? This didn't stop when we got into middle school. They only got worse. As I became more and more focused on receiving good grades, the more they seemed to pick on me. It wasn't the fact that they gave me a daily beating that hurt me the most. It was the fact that I grew up with them. They knew everything about me and my family and vice versa. But they just hated me for some dumb ass fucking reason. So yeah, I never had friends here; I guess to them, I was just the smart one. So what if my mom would brag about me to everyone? And what's the big hype about getting into Yale with a scholarship? Nothing if you had no one to share it with. My dad left me as a child, and I haven't seen him since. In fact, I'm not even sure if he's still alive. If he's dead, well, I don't give a fuck. Ever since I could remember, my mom had always only cared about my grades. It was as if I should be getting straight A's. Relatives say it's because she's still figuring out ways to cope with the daddy abandonment issues, but who really knows? Needless to say, my relationship with my mom is a very thin line and I basically have no one in my life. So my mom and I moved to LA after that because she desperately wanted to find a job. She never graduated high school, so it wasn't surprising the only job she could land was at some supermarket. The best part of living in LA had to be the fact that I managed to make a few friends. But of course, LA is expensive as fuck and after two or three years, we couldn't continue living there, so we moved back… to Minnesota. I left my friends (reluctantly) and packed my bags and headed back to living hell. Joy.

"Honey, try not to pout so much," my mom said, carrying our bags and suitcases into our house.

"Well can you blame me? I fucking hate all of the people in Minnetonka, Minnesota," I muttered under my breath and stuffing my ear buds into my ears. I clicked play on my iPod and blasted some Cage the Elephants. I felt them yank out, enraging even more.

"What the fuck, Mom?" I yelled, snatching the ear buds out of her hand.

"Don't give me this attitude, Logan. Now you know why we're moving back and you don't think I want to stay in LA? I know you made some friends, and I'm happy for you! But we don't have a choice." Wow, Mom looked really serious. And I honestly couldn't believe she noticed my friends.

I sighed in defeat and helped the moving guys bring in the furniture. At least she attempted to care. I mean, I should begin to get used to being ignored and teased again.

*LINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAK*

I woke up to the sound of my obnoxious alarm clock, practically screeching that the first day of hell is beginning. I tried to find the snooze button, but I couldn't, so I just smashed it. I hit the annoying piece of shit a couple of times before it shut up. I probably broke it, but I couldn't give a damn. I groggily threw off my covers and walked to the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower. I stepped out the bathroom fully clad in a white button-up shirt and some dark skinnies. I guess California changed my style a little bit. Well, I stayed true to my casual style, but kind of transformed it into this laid-back, classy, clean-cut sophistication so to speak. I walked into the kitchen to find no one in sight. I sighed. Of course, I have to walk to school and make my own breakfast. Seriously, I might as well just fucking live alone. I popped some toast in the toaster, grabbed my backpack, and headed to school. I gotta admit, I was a little nervous. Okay, fine, a ton. But as I drew nearer to the school, I stopped caring. I no longer gave a flying fuck. If I could live through this as a kid, I can live through this now. After all, I just want to get through high school alive and go to Yale.

After missing first and second period to get my schedule, my locker number, and all the textbooks/necessities for class, I walked into third period, which was math. I averted eye contact when I heard whisperings from all the students. You should know that the place where I live in Minnetonka is relatively small. That means all the current students were the people you grew up with, and that means they all knew me. My teacher Mr. Byron told me to take an empty seat next to a tall blonde boy who seemed relatively familiar. Of course, I didn't care enough to actually make an attempt at remembering who it was, so I just sauntered over and took a seat. As he continued to lecture, I scribbled a lot of notes in my notebook. In my peripheral vision, I could see the blonde glancing at me from time to time, face scrunched in concentration. I chuckled to myself because to me, he looked constipated. The bell rang, signaling the start of brunch. I quickly stuffed my notebook and pen into my backpack and raced for the doorway. The faster I get out, the less questions and weird looks I will get. I raced to my locker and stuffed my math textbook and grabbed my history textbook and Lord of the Flies book for periods four and five. As I was just about to close my locker door, someone closed it for me.

"Ah!" I yelped in surprise. What the fuck, a haunted locker? I looked up to see that strange blonde guy that kept looking at me in class. "Can I help you?"

He chuckled. "Do you know who I am?"

"Uh, a creeper?" I blurted. Wow, that was mean.

He shook his head as he smirked. "Guess again, Logan."

Eek, what the fuck is with this dude? He knows my fucking name?

"Look," I stuttered nervously, backing away slowly only for him to inch closer, "I'm sorry but you're seriously starting to scare me. Can you just… just leave me alone?"

I was getting ready to bolt and get the fuck out of this freak's presence but was stopped by him grabbing my shoulder. Out of instinct, I shook his hand off. See I have this thing with hands on shoulders. When we were young, Kendall used to trick me into letting my guard down and then pelting my unguarded self with hurtful things. And how? He would put his hand on my shoulder and say, "Logan, we're friends aren't we?" I'd reply with, "I'm not sure. You always say mean things to me." And he would just laugh. "That's what friends are for," he assured me. "We're all joking." I would fall for it every time, but it never seemed to be the case. But that's when it hit me like a ton of bricks. This blonde guy… he was Kendall!

"You seriously don't remember who I am?" he asked, dumbfounded. He scrunched those caterpillar eyebrows together at him.

"Holy fuck," I murmured under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear. "K-Kendall?"

"Spot on," he said, flashing a toothy smile. "How you've been, Logie?"

I felt rage surge through my body. Does he honestly think a "how you've been?" is going to solve everything?

"Get the fuck away from me," I heard myself hiss at Kendall. "I don't want anything to do with you, or Carlos, or James, or anyone. I have enough shit going on in my life, and I don't need more from you." I walked away, keeping my held high. But on the inside, I felt weak and that I was going to collapse. Maybe that would've been better. I wish I was in a coma right now, because in the moment, I didn't want to feel anything. Emotions were pouring in and out of my heart and I couldn't grasp ahold of reality. My head was spinning as the encounter with Kendall brought back every ounce of painful memories that were engraved in my brain; the memories I had managed to tuck away for two years. But all this came back to me like waves during high tide. It was too much for me to handle. I felt my knees buckle and I hit the ground with a thud. The last thing I remembered were dozens of students rushing up to me to see if I was okay—then blackness.

*LINEBREAKLINEBREAKLINEBREAK*

Ugh, my heard is throbbing like a bitch! I opened my eyes and was instantly blinded by the fucking ass sunlight. Ah fuck! As my eyes started to adjust to the bright light, I started to scan around the room. It became apparent that I was in the hospital. Whoa, what the hell happened? I thought, rubbing the back of my aching head.

"He okay, Doc?" I heard a rather familiar voice say.

"He'll be fine. Just got a little overwhelmed. I presume it's from the move and everything," another voice answered.

Footsteps. I shut my eyes and peered out of my right eye to see who was coming. My eyes fluttered open and I furrowed my eyebrows when I saw Kendall standing at the foot of my hospital bed.

I sat up quickly and picked up a nearby plastic fork.

"Don't come any closer. I have a… fork and I'm not afraid to use it!" I threatened, hands quivering from fright. Crap, I'm a dead man.

Kendall raised an eyebrow. "Really? A plastic fork. I'm shaking in my shoes, dude," he retorted sarcastically. He walked over to me and snatched the stupid fork out of my hand.

"Hey—!" I started but hushed up when Kendall kissed me. Wait what? Kendall kissed me?

He pulled back and gave me a devious grin. He winked and started to walk away. Whoa what the fuck just happened? Can you say mindfuck?

"Whoa, dude, what was that?" I demanded, trying to get up to chase him back. I was so furious for two reasons: one, he stole my first fucking kiss. The guy I absolutely hated took my lip virginity… just like that! And two, he didn't stop even I told him to. I called his name at least ten fucking billion times, but he just didn't turn back. I threw my head back onto the pillow and shut my eyes. There were so many questions that I needed answers to. Why would Kendall kiss me? Can I hit him in the testes and gonads with a fucking metal bat? Like really hard for revenge? UGH, this is just a dream… this is just a dream… this is just a dream…

Omg, so much drama already.
Just a heads up, it might take a while for some fluffy moments between Logan and Kendall.
Logan is convinced he hates the living shit out of Kendall, and it takes a lot of convincing. ;D

UNTIL NEXT TIME,
Scarlett xoxo.

don't forget to R&R ;D