A/N—Reminder that I don't own these characters and that all credit goes to the creators of "Big Time Rush."

So I decided to go with the teachers idea for my next story. Thanks again to you guys who let me know what you wanted, and I'm pretty sure the other two ideas aren't going to just disappear. Ideas have a way of popping back up when you least expect it, as this story proves. I was really struggling with this so I decided to post the first chapter in order to get feedback because that always helps clear my head and motivates me.

IMPORTANT: For those of you who read my story "A New Path", some of this will feel like deja vu. There's a reason for that. I first started this story six years ago. I felt like it was going nowhere, so I abandoned it until last year, when it came back to haunt me. After reading the 30 pages I'd written, I decided to take pieces of it and form something completely new. That story became "A New Path." This one came back to haunt me again recently and I blame EpicallyObsessed for that because "Back To You" features James as a teacher and it made me remember this story. So we talked a little about it and I opened it again and suddenly felt the need to see it through. And here we are.

The similarities only exist in the first two chapters. I promise it goes in an entirely different direction. We do have a Kendall that can no longer play hockey, and we also have a James who competes on the show "National Pop Star." But in this story, the show is modeled after "American Idol" with celebrity judges and no coaches, and James and Kendall did not grow up together. We also have James, Logan, and Kendall as high school teachers, which was the main reason I dug this out of the basement.

I dedicate this to my wonderful, awesome beta (who really wanted me to finish this story) and to EpicallyObsessed because it wouldn't have happened if not for the beautiful Kames in "Back To You." Thanks to anyone else who might be reading this! :D

And here we go!

# #

The news broke immediately on the Internet, even those who were unable to watch live knowing right away that James Diamond's lifelong dream of winning "National Pop Star" had been yanked unceremoniously out from under his feet by a man who paled drastically in comparison when it came to talent. James managed to hold up well for the cameras, his easy fake smile suddenly his best friend as he hugged the man who stood between him and his dreams.

There was nothing wrong with Justin, per se, he just wasn't pop star material. Unfortunately, the majority of America (as well as the three celebrity judges) disagreed. Justin was crowned this year's "Pop Star" and James was led backstage, where he held on until he was finally alone in the car with his mother, who was already threatening a lawsuit because "Those people are blind and stupid. Nobody's better than my boy! Nobody breaks my son's heart!"

James himself was too stunned to cry or even rage the way his mother was. He just didn't understand. For weeks he'd been in the lead; it had seemed a sure thing. He had it all going for him—the perfect pop star look, the voice that showed off his natural talent, even dance moves that got the girls screaming with every shake of his hips. He'd been so confident, had no doubt that in the end it would be him up there receiving the accolades and standing in the spotlight with a million camera flashes aimed his way.

Instead it had been Justin, who was a nice enough guy but didn't have the perfectly-styled hair that was highlighted just right; he didn't have hazel eyes that girls found dreamy when they were more green than brown, depending on his mood or the lighting or his clothing choices. Justin didn't even have the bright smile that made the girls swoon. Justin was...well...pretty damn boring, in James' opinion. Sure, he could sing, but what was that in comparison to James Fucking Diamond?

The first words James was able to utter aloud broke free as the car was pulling into the parking lot of their hotel. She was on her cell phone next to him in the backseat and ranting to her lawyer, who knew enough to let her ramble before attempting to reply, when James asked softly, "What's so wrong with me?"

"Hold on, Jonathan. What was that, darling?"

Shifting slightly in his seat to raise sad eyes to his mother, James said, "What does he have that I don't?"

"Nothing, James. That boy has nothing. You deserved to win and when Jonathan is done with those people, they'll—what?!" Attention back on her phone, Brooke screamed, "What do you mean there's nothing you can do?! Those people need to pay! They broke my son's heart!"

The tears started then, James not fighting them as they rolled down his cheeks. The word echoed in his mind, bringing to the surface something he'd heard the judges say more than once to Justin. "You have such heart," they'd said, all three of them at different times. Justin had heart. James had never quite understood what they'd meant by it; he'd in fact snorted the first time it had been said, thinking the judge needed something nice to say and had been grasping at straws.

What was heart? James had plenty of heart; he knew that because his was broken right now. He still didn't understand as his shoulders shook with sobs and his mother raged next to him.

What in the world was heart, and where could he find his?

James spent much of the following year doing press and touring with the "National Pop Star" team. He was contracted to do it, and his mother pushed the idea that this wasn't the end for him, that he could still make it big as a star—all it would take is a record company offering him an album deal, and the rest would be history. He didn't need a stupid television show to become famous.

James felt differently, though. He was semi-famous now, but that would fade, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that. What bothered him most was being second best. James Diamond was the best. Or at least he always had been. Suddenly he wasn't, and there had to be a reason for it. Forget the majority of America, those judges knew their business; if they didn't feel James was the best, then it had to be true. There was no other explanation.

James was, in fact, offered a record deal. It was a small company, nothing grand and prestigious, but even so they would help him get his voice out there. They would even provide songs for him to sing, because James was a performer; he wasn't a writer. He'd never put pen to paper and expressed anything in his life outside of schoolwork.

The realization of that hit him hard, that nothing he'd done had come from his heart or mind. He'd been an outlet for the ideas of others. And for that reason, he turned down the offer. His mother informed him that he was insane and probably stupid as well, that he was letting opportunity pass him by, but James understood what his mother didn't.

His heart wasn't in it.

It hadn't been from the start. He'd wanted to be famous. He'd wanted adoring fans. He'd wanted everything that came with the fame, all of the excitement and perks and fun, but perhaps he'd wanted it for the wrong reasons. He and Justin hadn't bonded much over the course of their "Pop Star" adventure, but James knew that Justin had a girlfriend back home who suffered a disease of some sort, knew that Justin's father's dying wish had been to see his son realize his dream of inspiring others through music. When Justin sang those songs, he had someone to sing them to and about. He sang from the heart, sang with emotion and conviction. He'd experienced love, experienced heartbreak, experienced...life.

James had never been in love. He'd never really cared to date, spending most of his free time in vocal classes and dance classes and even acting classes. What wasn't taken up with those and the homework he was forced to do, he spent perfecting his look and his walk. Girls were foreign to him, no matter how many fell over themselves to talk to him. He gave them his perfect smile, perhaps a flirty word here and there, but discouraged any kind of lasting encounter. He didn't need friends. He didn't need girlfriends. All of that would come later, with the fame.

But the fame didn't come. Strangely enough, suffering his first real heartbreak resulted in him picking up a pen and notebook to write a few lines, and before he knew it, he had a song. It pissed him off, the idea that he'd had an opportunity and lost it only to finally understand what had been missing all that time. What was there to live for now?

For the first time in his life, James wished he had a father. He had one, somewhere in the world, but the man who'd given life to James hadn't wanted to stick around long enough to meet him; for his entire life it had been James and his mother. While his mother was supportive and encouraging (if a bit overbearing at times), she didn't seem to understand what he was feeling. Perhaps this was because James had never really expressed himself to her other than telling her what he wanted and needed. He'd never simply sat down with her and said, "You know, I'm feeling like this right now." It just wasn't something they did. Feelings were treated as a weakness, and so now when he needed someone to talk to about them, there was no one. James' heart was suddenly overflowing and there was nothing to catch the deluge.

Frustrated with himself and his situation, he reached out to the person who had told him that while he was talented and gifted in so many ways, he was missing that one essential quality that would complete him. At the time he'd mentally rolled his eyes, thinking it didn't matter what this particular judge said because there were two others who still believed he had it all, but now he wished he'd done so. Nervous, he put in a phone call to someone who could put them in contact. It was the next day before James finally heard back, unsure what to say when he answered the call to hear the aging rock star's voice on the line.

"James, there's nothing I can do. The decision's been made and it's all in the past."

"No, I know, I get it," James replied, fidgeting in the lush chair he'd sunk into.

"And I can't help you get a record deal, either. Don't even ask."

"I'm not, that's not why I called, I just..."

Something in James' voice must've caught his attention, because his next question was, "Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm...I mean...no, not really. I'm just trying to understand. I thought I had it, you know?"

"I know you did. That much was obvious to the entire world."

"Is it wrong to be confident?"

"No, James, of course not, but there's a lot to be said for humility, as well. I admit that I was pretty damn cocky when I was your age, but it worked for the style of music and the era. Things are different now, society's values have evolved. Now that I've lived through so much shit, I can look back and see what a prick I was. I actually have some regrets. I didn't want you to make the same mistakes."

"But isn't that my choice to make?"

"James..." He sighed, James picturing him rubbing a hand over his weathered face. "You're not ready. I'm sorry."

"But what is it I'm missing? You never told me."

"It's...not just one thing. There are a lot of things, but I guess they can all be summed up in one word."

"Heart," James said softly. "Right?"

"Yes. You haven't lived yet. Sometimes I would watch you singing up there and think you reminded me a Barbie doll fresh from the package. In perfect condition, unmarred by the child who would mess up your hair and chew on your legs and toss you to the ground for the dog to play with. You were perfect on the outside, but inside you were plastic. I know that sounds harsh, but it's the image you put out. There's only so much you can learn from training and practice. Sometimes you have to just get out there and live."

"But I'm a kid! How much am I supposed to have lived through?"

"Look around you, buddy. What have your friends been through? What about the other contestants? They have experiences to draw from, they've felt the emotions they sing about. How many love songs did you perform in front of me?"

"A ton."

"And each time you weren't really feeling it. You've never been in love, have you?"

"Not...I mean..."

"No. The answer is no. Until you get out there and live, you'll have nothing to draw on. It's like you were raised in this bubble, everything you needed at your fingertips so you didn't have to work for it."

"Bullshit. I worked hard to get where I was."

"You did, but...James, that's all you did. There was nothing else in your life, was there? Just the dream of fame."

"Why is that so wrong?"

"Because it's not enough. Ten years from now you might try again and end up taking it all the way. Obviously not on the T.V. show, but on your own and with experiences to get you there. Until then...you're going to stay where you're at. I'm sorry."

James leaned back and closed his eyes, tears fighting to get past the lids. "How?" he whispered. "How do I live?"

"Maybe just be normal for a change? Look around you, see what's out there. Get to know people, fall in love, have your heart broken a few times."

"I'd rather not."

"Then experience the joy. Let your heart guide you, listen to it for once. Discover what you like and what makes you happy, make some mistakes and learn from them. Get a job."

That made James chuckle. He'd sworn that would be something he'd never have to do. "I have no skills. All I know how to do is sing and dance. And act some."

"Then get a job doing those things."

"Oh, so I can end up on another show and get shot down because I have no heart? No thanks."

"There are other places you can use those talents. Why not teach? Put your skills to use to help others."

"Hello, I'm too young to be a teacher. I barely made it through high school as it is. How am I supposed to get a job teaching anyone anything?"

"Volunteer somewhere. Become a teacher's aide. It doesn't really matter where you work, James, just get out there and meet people, learn the joy that comes from inspiring others."

It seemed an impossible dream to James, whose people skills were extremely lacking. He wasn't known for inspiring anyone to anything other than jealousy or anger. "I don't even know where to start. Help me."

The silence stretched so long James was afraid he'd hung up, but then he said, "You live in Minnesota, right?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I know a guy. The man who got me started, actually. He heads up the music and drama department of my old high school. Let me see if he could use a volunteer or maybe knows someone else who can. You willing to move?"

"Um...y-yeah. Money's not an issue, it's just..."

"What?"

"I...my mom. I don't think she'd allow it."

"James Diamond, do you want to find your heart or not?"

"Yes!"

"Then you have to take a risk. Are you willing to move?"

"I..." James glanced around at the living room he'd been raised in, the television where he'd watched his idols and dreamed of one day being as famous as them. He didn't want to give up his dream, but maybe he didn't have to; maybe putting it on hold for a few years was the answer.

"James? Now or never."

"Yes," he answered with conviction. "I'm ready to live."

Two weeks later James was set up in a furnished apartment of his very own in St. Paul, Minnesota. His mother had insisted he get a two-bedroom so she could come stay with him occasionally, and since she was the one paying for the place, he couldn't really argue. James' only demand was a walk-in closet for his massive wardrobe, and his mother made that happen. He stocked the freezer with dinners that could be heated in the microwave, having no culinary skills whatsoever and figuring he'd eat out most of the time anyway.

He was terrified, he was lost, but there was a part of him that was excited as well. For the first time he could make his own decisions, eat when he wanted, go where he chose to (a license and a car were definitely on his list of things to acquire), sit around in his boxers if he felt the urge. His mother stayed with him for two days before having to return to her job, James scared but ready.

He met with Thomas the day before he was to start at the school, learning then that while he was to be titled an aide, he would in essence be running the drama classes on his own. James panicked, explaining to Thomas that he had no experience other than his own unsuccessful attempts at fame, but Thomas only laughed and said, "No better way to gain experience than to be thrown into the fire." When James started to hyperventilate, Thomas rested a hand on his shoulder. "James. Relax. I'm not going to leave you completely alone, I do care about my students. I want to see what you can do, though. Rob thinks you have what it takes, and I trust his opinion."

James blinked in surprise, as he'd had no idea the "Pop Star" judge had any faith in him at all. "Rob...he does? He said I can handle it?"

"He did. He also said the best way to teach you was to toss you in, force you to sink or swim. You're not too long out of high school, so you know how those kids are. They'll eat you alive if you let them."

"You'll be there though, right? You're not just gonna...shove me in and run."

"We'll see," Thomas replied, eyes twinkling. "Better get your battle armor ready."

One thing James Diamond knew how to do was protect himself. The following day he dressed carefully, making sure he looked his best because that was the armor he threw up at all times. If you looked good, you could handle anything. Or so his mother had always said.

The school's principal had a long discussion with him about rules and integrity and standards, James tuning out a lot of it but nervous again when he was shown to the teachers' lounge and introduced to the staff members scattered around it. They greeted him warmly, many of them recognizing him from his stint on "National Pop Star" and one middle-aged math teacher even turning red and giggling over him, and James knew then he'd be okay. He may not have won, but he was admired anyway and it boosted up the natural confidence he carried with him under that armor.

There was one guy, though, that stared back at his fake smile with what might almost be called disdain. The young man sat at a corner table with a textbook open in front of him, a notebook to its right and a pen clutched in his hand. Upon being noticed, the teacher shifted his eyes back to the textbook, but the tips of his ears turned pink—it could either be embarrassment or anger. Judging from the way the clean-cut guy had looked at him, James feared it to be the latter. It was too bad, really, as James could've used someone close to his age as a friend. He sighed and let that idea go, faking that smile for the principal again before being led out of the room and toward his classroom.

There was one very valuable thing the unfriendly young man had taught him, though—when he decided to start dating, it would be a man; now that his eyes were open, he was noticing all kinds of things he hadn't before. He itched to know what it felt like to run his fingers through that dark hair. He wondered what the guy's face might look like with a smile on it. Would those brown eyes twinkle with amusement?

He was one step closer to finding his heart.

Logan Mitchell set down his insulated lunch box on the corner table and unpacked it before adding a paperback book to the mix. He was not at all surprised when Susan sat across from him, though he would've preferred solitude. His car and his classroom provided that, but what they didn't have to offer was a microwave. After heating up his leftovers from the night before, Logan rejoined Susan with a polite smile, praying she wouldn't be in the mood to talk today.

He didn't really mind Susan, who was a fellow teacher from the math department. At least she was capable of intelligent conversation. What drove him insane were the days when Mary, one of the English teachers and Susan's best friend, joined them and the two gossiped like magpies. Maybe today he'd get lucky and Mary would sit with the history teacher she'd been hoping to date.

No such luck. Mary greeted Logan enthusiastically before turning her attention to Susan, and then they were off—in hushed voices they dove into the topic of conversation on everyone's lips today, the arrival of James Diamond in their midst.

It would've surprised most of his co-workers to know that Logan had in fact watched the previous season of "National Pop Star." His mother was a fanatic of the show and insisted he keep up with it so she had someone to discuss it with. He'd seen Diamond's performances and decided the first week that though the man was gorgeous, there was something missing. When it got down to the final two, he'd rooted hard for Justin and wasn't disappointed. His mother, on the other hand...

"But I don't get it, James has everything! You see it, right? I mean, you're gay, you have to see it!"

"I agree that he's hot."

"But his talent!"

"And talented."

"So how in the world could he have lost? Logan, were you voting for Justin every week?"

"I told you I was, Mom. I'm sorry, the guy just...I don't know. There's something off about him."

"Stop it, you've always had issues with gorgeous guys. What is it about them you don't like?"

"Nothing! It's not his looks, it's his...I can't explain it. He's just so full of himself. How do you not see that?"

"It's called confidence, which is something I've been telling you for years you need to work on. You hate beautiful men because you feel like you could never measure up to them, is that it? Logan, I wish you could see what I see, you're such a handsome young man and I know the genius thing intimidates a lot of people but you're also funny and if you'd just have more faith in yourself, you'd be out dating and—"

"I'm hanging up now."

"Sweetheart, please hear me out."

"Mom, I'm not interested in dating. My career is enough."

"For now, maybe. But fine, I'll back off. One day the man of your dreams will walk into a room and you'll just know. Just promise me that when that happens, you'll go for it!"

"Am I in charge of dessert for tomorrow night? How does cherry pie sound?"

At that point Logan's mother had given up, but it was a theme she returned to whenever she could. He knew her heart was in the right place and she wanted to see him happy, but she didn't understand just how intimidating the genius thing was. Things might be going well and then the second Logan shared that he'd graduated high school at fourteen and gotten his master's degrees in both mathematics and physics at the age of eighteen (along with his degree in education), he was either seen as a nerd or someone that was "too smart for a normal guy like me." Every date ended the same way, without a follow-up.

Though there had been that time he'd kept the information to himself and scored a second date, only to end it early because he couldn't keep up the pretense of being average. It just felt wrong, and he wanted to be with someone who liked him for him. After that he'd stopped dating entirely, hoping his mother was right and that one day, the man of his dreams would just walk into a room and he'd know.

Today wasn't that day, though. The only person out of the ordinary to walk into the lounge was Diamond, and that much Logan didn't even see himself. He knew without looking over because Susan's face lit up. Logan had suffered through ten minutes of listening to Susan gossip with Mary about how gorgeous Diamond was and all of their musings on his relationship status. In the end they'd decided he couldn't be attached, not if he was so new to the area. Mary suggested he might have a girlfriend back home, but Susan felt it would've been mentioned by the media when he was a "National Pop Star" hopeful.

Logan didn't particularly care either way. There was no question about Diamond's sexuality, so even if Logan had been interested it wouldn't have mattered. His stuck-up attitude only added to Logan's lack of interest.

"James! Hi! Over here!"

Barely refraining from rolling his eyes, Logan didn't look up as Diamond took a chair to the left of him, leaving one empty seat between them. Mary had rushed off to finish up preparations for her next class, and Susan was beside herself with excitement at having Diamond's sole attention.

"Mary, right?" James began, and Logan choked on a laugh, turning it into a coughing fit.

"You okay?" Susan asked in concern, and Logan couldn't hold back a teasing reply.

"Fine. Thanks, Mary."

She waved a hand at Logan like it was no big deal. Who cared if James had messed up her name? "It's actually Susan," she smiled. "Mary is the English teacher you met in the office."

"Oh," James replied, cheeks red. "There are so many of you, I'm sorry."

"It's fine."

She patted his hand, Logan catching it out of the corner of his eye and ready to puke. What was the big deal? Yeah, Diamond was hot, but was that really worth falling all over yourself for?

"We didn't really get a chance to talk yesterday, James, how did you end up here? Surely you had offers for a recording contract!"

"Oh, of course I did," James replied. "I just felt like taking a break from it all for a while, you know? The school needed me, how could I say no?"

Out of the corner of his eye Logan watched James unwrap two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before digging out carrot sticks and a pudding cup. He looked down at the remains of his own pizza, celery with peanut butter, and yogurt. James was definitely a bachelor.

Not that Logan cared.

Susan seemed to melt. "That's so sweet of you to lend a hand when you could be focusing on your own career. I heard you're a friend of Thomas'?"

"Friend of a friend, actually." He tore into the bread-covered gooey mess, reaching for a drink that wasn't there. "Damn," he said under his breath.

"What's wrong?" Susan asked.

"Nothing." He took another bite before looking into his bag, face falling. With a sigh James returned the pudding cup to it.

"So how's it been so far? The kids going easy on you?"

"It's been great," James smiled. "They all know who I am so they actually listen when I speak. The choir is good, but the drama team needs some work. I met a lot of them in my classes yesterday. A few are full of themselves, but that won't last."

Logan snorted once again, pounding his chest immediately as if his food went down the wrong pipe.

"Dude, seriously, are you okay?" James questioned. "There's a nurse if you need one."

"Fine," Logan replied shortly. "Lost my appetite anyway."

"Damn, is it already that late?" Susan sighed and stood up with her tray. "I have to get going, James. It was nice to run into you again."

"You too, Mary. Shit. I mean Susan."

With a last smile she was gone, leaving them alone at the table. Logan hurriedly packed his belongings.

"Is there a vending machine in here?" James asked suddenly.

"Yes, but it only takes coins right now. The bills are jammed."

"Of course." Standing up, James turned away to check his pockets.

Logan spied the extra bottle of water he always packed for the afternoon in his insulated lunch bag. He sighed when he heard James mutter again before reaching into his other pocket.

Defeated by the lack of change, James returned to his seat to find himself alone. Trying not to let it bother him that the cute nerd so obviously hated him, he picked up his sandwich again before noticing a cold, unopened bottle of water pushed up against his bag of carrots. A plastic spoon had also appeared out of nowhere.

He stood up and spun around quickly but the nerd was gone. It gave him a tiny spark of hope anyway, and he smiled as he cracked open the pudding cup.

James might've been exaggerating about how well the students listened to him. While there were in fact quite a few who recognized him and idolized him for his stint on "National Pop Star", there were also those who understood that James had lost for a reason—he simply wasn't good enough. One of his students even had the nerve to state he'd voted for Justin every week. James took it in stride, sassing him right back, and in doing so gained a tiny smidge of respect.

In choir there was no issue at all; James had a golden voice and knew it, had trained enough with it to be able to give the same advice and encouragement to others. Thomas stood at his side the first day, showing James what they were currently practicing for and the additional songs that needed to be learned in time for the fall event being put on by the performing arts department. The second day Thomas put James in charge, watching him and giving only a few words of advice after class.

Drama was what James found to be a challenge. His own acting wasn't the problem and he had plenty of knowledge to pass on, but even those who loved him had never seen him act (as far as they knew, at least—he'd certainly been acting when Justin was announced the winner of the show) and didn't know if he had it in him. Then there were the girls who squealed over him in class, distracting him and everyone else. Never had James Diamond imagined that attention would be an annoyance.

James stood near the front during the second day of drama classes, listening to Thomas teach about the history of the art and learning quite a bit himself. He knew this was the boring but necessary part of it all and could see it on the faces of the students, that this wasn't at all what they'd imagined drama class to be. He was more of a help when the students were asked to pair up and read bits of a script, the exercise intended to show that the same words could be interpreted in many ways and it was important to understand the context and meaning behind the material.

It was after school that James' opinions were put to use. The fall play had been decided and tryouts were under way, James sitting at Thomas' side and debating each hopeful who auditioned. He was able to give the perspective of the students, being young himself, while Thomas looked at it from a more practiced eye. Together they decided on a few candidates for the leads, waiting for the following day to see the rest of the students and make final decisions about everyone else.

What James was dreading most of all about the new job was the academic part of the whole thing; he was a performer, not a teacher. Parent/teacher conferences, having to give out grades and come up with assignments and homework, even staff meetings...the thought of all of it terrified him. He hadn't even been good enough to win a contest, how was he supposed to produce students who could make it in the real world? It was scary to him, knowing that something he said could affect the future of a teenager. He was a teenager himself! Adults still intimidated him.

Well, he'd just have to act his way through it all, especially the after-school staff meeting the principal had called in the auditorium to discuss some new testing process that would probably make no sense to him. Rob had really thought he could do this?

James purposely arrived three minutes late, hoping he could slip into the back row unnoticed and keep to himself. Luckily there was only one other occupant of said row when he reached it, James having no choice but to take the aisle seat since the other teacher had parked himself three seats in. He didn't like that there was only one empty spot between them, but when he peeked over and noted it was the cute nerd from lunch, James relaxed.

It wasn't like the guy was going to try to talk to him or anything.

Logan stiffened when the new guy settled in two seats over. He'd purposely chosen the back row, as he always did, to avoid dealing with anyone else. This guy would be attracting attention, though, and Logan would once again get caught in the crossfire. Lunch had been bad enough; he didn't need to sit here in this crowded room any longer than necessary.

Ignore him. Just pretend you don't see him and maybe he'll do the same.

That worked well until handouts were passed around and James had to offer him one. Logan took it with a polite nod and immediately focused on the paperwork, already bored and wishing he was home grading papers. Once that was done, maybe he'd order some Chinese and watch the documentary on supernovas he'd recorded the night before. Or perhaps this was the night he'd finally pass the level of his new video game he'd been stuck on for a week. Or maybe he'd—

A folded sheet of notebook paper dropped onto the handout that was draped over Logan's lap. He frowned and unfolded it.

"Are these things always this boring?"

The diva. It had to have come from the diva. Logan resisted the urge to glance to his left and wondered how to deal with this. Ignore it? Respond? But what would he say?

He finally scribbled one word underneath the question that headed the top of the ruled sheet of otherwise blank paper.

"Usually."

Rather than toss it, as the diva had, Logan extended his arm until Diamond took the note. Things returned to normal for thirty seconds, then the paper was back on his lap.

"How do you stand this?"

Logan sighed, trying to be patient and keeping in mind that the guy was just bored. Certainly nothing else would have caused him to reach out and communicate.

"Sometimes I actually listen. Other times I grade papers or think about what I'm going to do once I get out of here."

The note was passed back, Diamond taking it quickly. Logan refused to look over, even though part of him was curious to see the man's face as he read it. Soon enough, he had a reply.

"What is it today?"

Why the did guy care?

He's bored, Logan. That's why. Just humor him. It's something to do until you're free, anyway.

He considered what to write, then jotted down his answer.

"Today I'm thinking about Chinese food and television. Maybe a game later."

This time he did look over to gauge Diamond's reaction, surprised when the dude's face lit up. His next line seemed to be written with excitement.

"Football? Hockey? I'm a huge hockey fan!"

Logan almost choked when he read the reply. Of course the guy would assume he meant sports. Didn't every guy?

Then again, Logan wouldn't have guessed a pretty boy like James to be into something as manly as hockey. He scribbled another answer.

"Video. I'm not much into sports."

Their note-passing seemed to go faster after that.

"You're missing out. Hockey's intense."

"I'll trust you."

"Have you ever been to a game?"

"I was forced to watch one on a date once. I wasn't impressed."

"That's because it wasn't in person. Trust me, it's totally different. You need to go to an actual NHL game. You'd have fun."

"Doubt it."

"Just try it sometime."

"What if I told you that about a documentary on supernovas? Would that make you want to watch it?"

This answer was longer in coming. When Logan finally read it, though, the words surprised him.

"If you find it interesting, there must be a reason. I'd give it a shot."

"You're just saying that."

"I'm not. Name the time and place. But you have to go to a hockey game, too. It's only fair."

Logan blinked at the note, which in essence was...an invitation? Diamond couldn't be serious. When he looked over, he was met with a challenging expression that silently said, "I dare you."

As a rule, Logan didn't take dares. He thought the idea of them ridiculous, some macho move to prove your masculinity (or stupidity) by doing something idiotic. He had no idea why Diamond was so determined to get him to a hockey game and was honestly afraid to find out. It was so much easier to think of the guy as a stuck-up diva and leave it at that.

There couldn't be a heart buried under all the blustery confidence, could there?

James sat through most of the meeting dejected. There had been no answer to his last note, where he'd foolishly pushed it too far by asking the nerd for...what, exactly? He didn't even know. All he knew was that the kind gesture in the staff room earlier had touched him, and he wanted to see what else lay beneath the guy's stony exterior.

Eventually the meeting seemed to be wrapping up, so James reached over for the paper and wrote one more thing. If nothing else, maybe he could at least end their interaction on a nice note.

"Thanks for the water and spoon earlier. I was a little frazzled this morning with the new job and all."

The principal excused everyone, James looking up at the sudden chaos of people anxious to get out of the room. He quickly passed the note over before the nerd could get away, mentally closing that door and trying not to be disappointed about it. It would've been nice to have a friend in all this mess.

James had made it all the way through the lobby and down the front steps of the school before something was pressed into his hand. He looked down in surprise, then up again to see the nerd slipping easily through the rest of the crowd and toward the staff parking lot. Realizing that he was causing a traffic jam by standing in place, James moved aside and leaned against a tree to unfold the note.

"645 Woodfield Road. 6:00. If you don't like orange chicken, pick something up on the way. Don't be late or I'll mark you tardy."