...this may or may not be a Christmas fic!

Groups of teens fled to the back of the locker room when a commotion sparked up in that area. With confused expressions on their faces, they let their eyes wander for the source of all the chaos. Their jaws nearly dropped to the floor when they spotted it. With complete shock, they watched as Kendall Knight, the school's most popular jock, was pinned up against the wall by some scrawny new kid. Fury leaked from his eyes as he tightened his grip on the blonde's arms.

"DON'T SAY THAT ABOUT JOANNA!" He screamed and slammed Kendall harder against the brink surface.

Kendall's eyebrows narrowed with perplexity. Joanna? Wait...he NAMED his notebook?!

"Get the fuck off of me you freak!" Kendall cried, trying his best to squirm away from the brunette.

"Not until you tell me where you put my notebook!"

"It's in my bag! Sheesh!" Kendall rolled his eyes and the other guy loosened his grip a little bit, "Why's that faggy looking thing so important to you anyways?" The smaller teen grabbed Kendall's arms again, his nails practically digging into the tall boy's skin.

"Sorry...sorry..." Kendall mumbled until he was let free.

The new kid walked away from the blonde, proceeding to dig through his things until he found his notebook. He smiled and traced his fingers over the pretty floral carving on its cover before grabbing his messenger bag and leaving the locker room to head home.

"What the hell was that?" James, a friend of Kendall's, asked.

Kendall shook his head, "No clue."

Carlos, another friend, ran over to the two, his eyes wide, "Are you okay?! What happened?"

Kendall nodded, "My arms are just a little sore." He mumbled, "And Logan happened." He rolled his eyes.

"Huh?"

"He must be the new kid that everyone was saying to stay away from." Carlos added.

"Wait...Logan Mitchell?" James questioned.

"Yup."

James laughed, "He's pretty tough for such a priss."

Carlos giggled and agreed, "Yeah...sorry, man, but it was kinda funny seeing a guy in a sweater vest and skinny jeans kick your ass."

Kendall chuckled a bit, "It was a shocker for sure."

James' tone got lower, "Am I the only one who thinks it's weird that he carries that stupid notebook around with him everywhere?"

"I know, right?" Kendall replied, "I called it dumb and thought it'd be funny to hide it...that's when he went all psycho on me."

"Well...I'd watch out for him. He's bad news..."

Logan made his trek home, a cold brisk wind whipping him in the face as he did so. He pulled up his hood and kept his glance on the ground; he didn't want anyone to see him or recognize him either. The brunette adjusted his bag and held a grip on its strap nervously while passing through the bad section of town. Even though it wasn't the case, he looked like an easy target on the outside. Logan checked his bag again to make sure nothing had fallen out or had been stolen during his trip. When he next look up he was stood in front of a huge building.

"Hello...?" He asked as he knocked on the door lightly. His hands were a slight blue tint from the freezing Minnesota weather. He couldn't wait to get inside and warm up a bit.

"Oh Logan! Hi!" An older women smiled brightly and pulled the tense teen in for a hug. He accepted, merely for the warmth.

"How're you Ms. Wellington?" He flashed a tiny grin and put on his most polite voice for the jolly woman.

"Great! Better now that you're he..." She was cut off by the sound of little kids cheering and running into the entry hall.

"Logie! Logie!" They called out, clinging to the older teen's leg and hugging him tightly. Logan bent over and hugged them back, smiling widely. Seeing the kids get so happy that he was visiting brightened his day.

"I brought you guys presents." He beamed, taking his bag off of his shoulders and plopping it onto the coffee table that was nearby. Out spilled colorful crochet blankets, each one hand sewn by Logan himself.

"Thank you!" A few kids squealed. Others 'ooo' and 'aaaah'ed at the pattern. Both reactions made Logan smile and hug them again. He loved those children as if they were his own.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, darling?" Ms. Welling asked sweetly, placing a hand to Logan's shoulder.

He shook his head, "Thanks for the offer, but I've gotta cook for my dad tonight."

"Aw, alright. Well...stop by whenever you'd like. The kids love it when you do."

Logan grinned and nodded as he gathered his things to go back home.

The raven-haired-teen felt chills run up his spine when he opened the door to his house. He mentally crossed his fingers that his father would be sleeping or passed out...he honestly didn't want to deal with him in a moment like this. He was so happy from previously visiting the orphanage, he knew his dad would ruin his good mood in an instant. The teen felt a small sigh of relief when he noticed his dad drunk on the couch. If he was lucky the man would sleep the rest of the day away.

Luck wasn't ever something he had, though, and that was proven right when Mr. Mitchell sat up groggily.

"The hell you doin' here, son?" He grumbled, tossing his feet over the side of the sofa to stand up.

"I live here."

"Don't talk back to me!"

"Fuck off, Dad, you're drunk." Logan growled, throwing his bag to the side of the living room and heading for the stairs. Midway through he felt a fist jam into his shoulder. He let out a yelp of pain and his keens buckled sending him down to the floor.

"I. SAID. DON'T. TALK. BACK. TO. ME."

Logan groaned loudly and ran to his room, trying to ignore his father's angry curses and slurs from outside the door. He made sure to lock it just in case too. It was moments like these when he missed his mother the most. For comfort the teen pulled out his notebook and began to read back some of the old journal entries that his mother had written down years before she passed away.

"I love you my Logan. My little baby boy." The last entry read.

"I love you too, Momma." The brunette mumbled to the notebook in a tiny, childlike voice.

xoxo

~EMiLiE