Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush, but they have helped so much anyway.
Time of Our Lives
Chapter 3
Mikkal
Summary: Logan moved away during the summer, but four years later he's back, better than ever, and oh so different. Join the boys as they go through Minnesota, L.A, and the roller coaster ride of being everything but normal. And angst, don't forget the angst.
September: Beginning of 11th grade: Middle of the month
Kendall let his head fall on his desk, groaning as he did so. Second block was barely over and he was ready to go home. The teacher didn't even notice that she lost another student's attention and just kept on talking. To everyone in the class it sounded monotone...it wasn't.
He got poked in the side, making him shoot a glare at the grinning James.
"Nope," the taller brunette tsked. "No sleeping. No Bs, no hockey," he reminded the hockey captain.
Kendall groaned again, he had forgotten the deal he and his mom made. "Whose side are you on?"
"The winning one," James said simply. Mrs. Knight always won.
There was a knock at the door, stilling every activity as everyone's attention turned to the wooden slab keeping them from something interesting.
Please be something interesting.
A senior who helped out in the office during her free block leaned against the door frame, chewing gum and looking positively bored. There was a knowing grin on her face and some sort of spark in her eye that put Kendall and James at the edge of their seats.
Please be something interesting.
"Hey, Mrs. Jordan," she said monotone, for real this time. "We've got that new student Mr. Nick warned ya about."
Mrs. Jordan sighed. "Okay, Max. You can go now."
"Whatever." She shrugged and left, but not before shooting a smirk at the class. "Have fun. Good to see ya again," she said to whoever was in the hallway.
When whoever it was walked into the room Kendall's jaw dropped and James let out a strangled gasp.
It couldn't...could?
"Logan Mitchell." Their long lost friend smirked with a surprisingly crooked smile. "Back from the dead. How y'all doin'?"
"Logan?" They yelled at the same time.
The rest of the class was too shocked to do anything. They didn't remember Logan, not really. He had been Kendall, James, and Carlos' friend, not theirs, so there wasn't really a point to remember him. It's not like they thought he was ever coming back, right?
But the yelling Kendall and James decided to let loose in the classroom made the memory trigger in their mind. And they couldn't believe that the wall-flower from four years ago was this teen standing in front of them right now.
"The one and the same," he drawled, completely amused with the situation.
Mrs. Jordan rolled her eyes at the dramatic entrance. "Logan, go find a seat. I've gotta get back to teaching."
She recognized the name Logan Mitchell, hearing the warnings from sixth grade teachers and elementary school teachers that he, for the most part, was the stabilizer of most of the boys' pranks back then. From the whispers she had heard from her own students the past two years, she doubted that very much and wondered what the other teachers were sniffing when they told her that.
And, not to mention, Logan Mitchell was the cause of most fights in elementary and middle school. He wasn't usually directly involved unless it was a bully problem, but Kendall Knight had a tendency to be over-protective and often got into fights to protect his fiends—usually Logan.
Didn't mean she wanted to see for herself. And plus, she was savvy enough in the art of teenage puberty to know that the Logan from the stories and four years ago were going to be way different from the Logan who just walked into her classroom.
"Yes ma'am." He shuffled into a seat that just so happened to be right in front of Kendall and James.
Oh joy...she thought wryly. At that point she gave up trying to teach the class anything.
"Where are your glasses?" James blurted out.
Logan shot a glance at him, eyebrow raised and a hand touching the side of his face. "Oh crap," he laughed. "I forgot I use to wear those. I haven't worn them since freshmen year." He glared at his childhood friend. "And I know for a fact that you wanted to break them when I wore them."
James had the decently to turn a little pink. "Yeah, well, they were ugly."
"Got that right."
"When did you get back?" Kendall asked.
He, like the rest of the class, was trying to connect this Logan to the wall-flower kid from four years ago...it was really hard. I mean, he had been kind of expecting something like this was going to happen after his 16th birthday phone call, the whole party and everything, but expecting and seeing are two very different things.
Logan grinned. "A few days ago. Mom and I had to do a lil unpacking and re-register me for school."
"And you didn't tell us earlier?" James shouted. "What's wrong with you?"
Kendall was about to smack his friend on the back of the head for talking like that, but, much to his surprise, Logan beat him to it. James stared at him in shock, hand coming up to touch the spot. Did Logan...Logan Mitchell just hit him?
"That's not something you say at a time like this," Logan warned, a smile on his face.
It took a moment for the two of them to realize what he just said, that it was an exact repeat of what James said to Logan and what Kendall said to James in return four years ago.
He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I remembered. I may have been quiet." Logan grimaced at that. "But that didn't mean I was deaf, my memory worked well back then too."
"We missed you," Kendall said.
He opted out of mentioning the fact that Logan hadn't called them for their birthdays the past year and didn't pick up for his...well, opted out until Carlos showed up during lunch. They they would talk about it. The three of them normally sat together, even though they were popular enough to sit anywhere, and everyone knew they wanted to hang out so they left them mostly alone. There were a few who sat with them, but they usually stuck to their own conversations.
Yeah, when Carlos and lunch got here then they would talk.
Logan smiled softly. "I missed you guys too." He stuck his tongue out at a girl who went "aw!", earning a surprised laugh from a majority of the class.
This was not the Logan Mitchell they all barely remembered.
Carlos gathered his stuff as the bell got closer and closer to ringing. The teacher was still talking but he didn't really care, he cared more about lunch not about the Spanish class he was only taking so he could have his language credits. What was his grade again? Oh yeah, a 97 percent. He so did not need to pay attention.
The rest of the class didn't cared about the lesson still going on either, if their giggling conversations meant anything. Though Carlos doubted they had a good grade such as his.
He stared at the clock, hating that he hardly got to see his friends during school. First block, lunch, and fourth block were the only times...wait...okay, he got to see them a lot. Just not as much as he wish he did.
"Carlos!" Someone stage whispered, getting his attention. "That kid you use to hang out a couple years ago...what was his name? It was some scrawny kid."
"Who? Logan?" Why would they want to know?
She rolled her eyes. "There's like three Logans in the whole school alone. Logan what?"
Carlos raised an eyebrow. "Logan Mitchell. Why?"
She got really excited. "Macy just texted me!" That was mostly to the other teens, but she turned a little towards Carlos so he could be included. "Logan Mitchell, that scrawny art geek, is back!" She lowered her voice to that stage whisper again. "And she said he's totally hot!"
A couple people who remembered him scoffed, while quite a few couldn't even remember who Logan Mitchell was.
Carlos remembered. He grabbed Kim's arm (that was her name, now that he thought about it) so she would look at him. "You say Logan Mitchell? The one who move to Texas?"
She nodded, looking at him strangely. "Yeah...didn't you know he was back?"
He shook his head, already too distracted by his racing thoughts to fully answer her. Did Kendall and James know? When was he going to see Logan? Was he back for good? Was Macy kidding when she said he was hot?
The Logan he remembered would, honestly, never have that word used to describe him. Cute...maybe. Adorable...maybe. Dork...yeah, probably. But hot? Hm...no, not really.
If he really wanted to get out of Spanish before then it was nothing compared to now. The moment the clock turned a minute before the bell he was out of his seat and hovering near the door, inching pass the little line of plastic that separated the tile hallway from the carpeted classroom.
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. Come on! Ring!
"Yes!" He shouted happily when the bell finally rang, already racing down the hall to the cafeteria by the time the first echo faded.
A couple people giggled at him as he went past them, thinking that this was just another one of his class clown antics. Pretty much the only class he was well behaved in was Spanish, and that was because the other guys weren't in it...and his mom would kill him if he wasn't passing something simple like Spanish.
He dropped his book bag off at their usual table, a couple people already sitting there. A few girls, a couple guys from hockey, a couple drama kids James knew, and some dude listening to music and not really talking to anyone. Carlos ignored them and headed to the spot Kendall and James held for him in the middle of the line.
"Guys!" He half-shouted over the roaring combination of students and almost too loud music (switching from Lady Gaga to hottest sensation Mitchell Henderson). "Is it true?" He demanded.
Kendall and James exchanged glances and shrugged simultaneously.
"What ever do you mean, Carlitos?" James asked mockingly.
He narrowed his eyes. The pretty boy knew exactly what he meant...jerk. "Ya know, just because I lost my phone doesn't mean other people can't text their friends...who are in my class...who also talk to me! Is Logan back?"
"Logan who?" Kendall chimed in, ruining everything with the evil smile on his face.
His eyes widened. "Oh my God, he is! When did he get back?" Carlos grabbed the rails that divided the lines and started hopping foot to foot in excitement. "Is he here to stay? Where is he?"
Kendall laughed a little and patted him on the head. "A couple days ago. Uh, yeah, I think so. And he's sitting at our table, being mysteriously cool."
Mysteriously cool? Logan Mitchell? Carlos looked where he pointed and saw the dude listening to music he ignored earlier. His jaw dropped.
"That's Logan?" He asked in disbelief.
James grinned. "That's what we said."
Lunch was totally forgotten, but that didn't stop him from getting his and almost dropping it in excitement as they finally got to the table.
"Logan! I missed you!" He yelled, practically jumping the older teen.
...who barely had time to yank out his off his headphones before being smothered by the hyperactive Latino. "Carlos!" He yelled back, laughing. "I missed you too." Hugging tightly like he would never get to again.
He backed off and looked his long lost friend up and down. "You look so different," Carlos said, almost in wonder.
And he wasn't lying. The Logan they use to know wore over-sized sweaters and pants, dirty sneakers, he had those awful glasses and braces that seemed too big for his mouth. His hair back then was shaggy and uncared for and he was always covered in paint.
This Logan was the opposite. Short, spiky hair and lightly tanned skin (since, you know, he lived in Texas), his glasses were gone and his teeth were straight and white. He wore a long sleeved, light blue shirt that was close fitting to show off a toned stomach and dark blue, white washed jeans with black converse. The only thing that brought them comfort that this was the same person they knew were the smudges of pencil lead on his fingers.
In other words, Carlos was right: he did look really different.
Logan grinned that surprisingly crooked grin . "What can I say? High school changes a person."
He sounded different too. More confident, with a little bit of swagger in there too. And—
"You sound like a cowboy," Kendall pointed out.
Logan gasped. "I do not!"
Carlos grinned. "Yeah ya do."
He scowled good-naturally. "Yeah, yeah. Blame Texas, ya can't live there for two months without pickin' it up."
"Oh, lookie here. Little Logie's back from the great state of Texas," Mike Daniels, captain of the barely loved football team sneered. "I guess he missed my kindness back in the old days. Did you come back just for little ol' me?"
Logan rolled his eyes and turned around, not even bothering to get up to confront his middle school bully. "I see you haven't changed, Daniels. Still as egotistical as ever."
His lips twisted into a snarl. "What's that suppose to mean, Mitchell?"
He stared at him blankly, it looked like he was trying to figure out why he had been afraid of this guy in the first place. "Egotistical. Adjective. Tendin' to talk excessively about oneself. Believin' oneself to be better and more important than others. In other words, you."
His friends stared at him in shock. Logan just told of the biggest jerk in the whole school with a dictionary definition...Kendall wondered faintly if he was still going to have to be the protector after school some time this week.
Daniels sputtered, turning an unhealthy purple before slouching off in search for an easier target, trying to make it look like he left because he wanted to, not because he was told off.
"My hero," Carlos teased. "So your photographic memory's coming in handy for things other than painting?"
He nodded, smiling. "Yeah. I think I've memorized the dictionary ten times over."
That received stares, making him shrug.
"It was a bet!" Logan defended. "Okay...maybe it wasn't. But I still got money for it! Kasey said she didn't believe me and made me repeat all the A words...got fifty bucks outta it."
The Latino burst out laughing. "You went from art geek to just plain nerd? Why did that happen?"
"Yeah," Kendall cut in. "You use to hate school, except for art."
"Well, like I said: high school changes a person." He glanced at his watch before stuffing his headphones back on. "I've gotta go talk to the principle about somethin'. See ya later."
Kendall grabbed his arm as he stood up. "We need to talk to you after school. Meet us at the front doors?"
Logan gave him a strange look. "Sure."
The rest of the day all about Logan Mitchell. Several people texted James and Kendall about him. People came up to them in the hallways, asking about him. It was tiring and a little annoying. All these people never gave him the time of day years before and now they were all over him.
Not to mention, James was getting a little pouting that all the girls were turning their attention to someone else.
"Relax, James," Kendall soothed, being the leader that he was. "By tomorrow this whole thing will blow over and Logan will just be another face in the crowed."
"Speaking of Logan. Why did you want to talk to him after school?" Carlos asked. "I mean, not that I don't want to talk to him...but why'd you have to make sure?"
Kendall sighed. "Just 'cause he's back doesn't mean I can completely ignore he blew us off our last birthdays...except for yours, Carlitos, 'cause it hasn't happened yet."
"Thanks for reminding me," Carlos pouted, crossing his arms. He hated being the youngest, it wasn't fair that he was still sixteen while everyone else was seventeen.
"Are you sure he didn't call?" James asked. "I mean, not even two days late like Carlos' last year?"
Kendall nodded. "He didn't call for you either," he reminded them. "And he didn't pick up when we tried to call him for his birthday."
Carlos frowned. "When did it come to the point were we only talked on birthdays?" He commented. "What happened to us calling in between that?"
The blond leader shrugged. "I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I kinda wished it hadn't happened, but it's hard to keep a long distance friendship. Especially one when we're all going into high school, so much changes."
"But he's back now!" The Latino exclaimed. "So that can change!"
James shook his head, shrugging. "Yeah, you're right. But I agree with Kendall, we've gotta figure out why."
Logan chose that moment to come out the front doors, shouting bye to someone before spotting them hanging around the steps. He waved at them and jogged over. "Hey, what'd you wanna talk to me about?"
Kendall took a little, cleansing breath and got straight to the point. "Why didn't you call us for our birthdays? Why didn't you pick up for yours?"
He stared at them wide-eyed in surprise. "Really? I thought you were goin' to tell me someone died!" He sighed in relief, but something flickered in his eyes and they were all suddenly reminded of Carlos' last birthday call and Misha. "I'm sorry about that. My phone got dunked when I was tryin' to take care of somethin' at the stable I worked at. None of my contacts could be retrieved and I couldn't call any of you." He frowned. "I'm really sorry."
James' jaw dropped. "That's why?" He screeched. "I thought it was because you finally got a life and didn't feel like calling us anymore!"
Logan laughed. "I'll have you know, I did get a life. But you guys are my friends, I wouldn't leave you just for that. I was goin' to come back." He looked at them. "You know that, right?"
Kendall swung an arm around his shoulders. "Of course we do, we just had that one moment of doubt. I mean, we still got your presents. You got ours?"
"Yeah, thanks. I really needed that sketchbook. And thanks for the Mitchell Henderson's 8th CD, James." He smirked and glanced at the pretty boy then at Carlos. "It went very well with Carlos giving me his 9th one."
Mitchell Henderson was the hottest sensation, completely independent from any contract, and put out three albums his first year before tapering off to two a year. Despite how famous he was, no one knew anything about him. There's no pictures, no age, no nothing. They weren't even sure if that was his real name. The only thing people knew was that he was male and that he announced three months ago he was no longer recording songs.
Didn't mean there weren't going to be more albums. Henderson recorded enough songs there were easily going to be at least four more. According to his anonymous Facebook page.
"So...thanks for the confrontation and everythin'." Logan scratched his cheek. "And I'm really sorry you had to in the first place."
"Man, it's not problem," James assured, which pretty much meant Logan was off the hook. If Kendall or Carlos said it then that would've been a different story all together. James felt so deeply about things that it took a while for him to get over it, and you could tell when he wasn't. He could never fully lie about it being okay, there was always a sign.
And there were no signs now.
"But I've gotta go. Mom wants me back for dinner to talk about my first day." He made a face, making them laugh. "It's gonna be fun."
He said good-bye to his friends a bit relucatantly. Logan really, really wanted to catch up with them, it had been too long since they had seen each other or even talked to each other and he had missed them a lot. But he could already feel the tightness in his chest and the world around him was static-y at the corners.
Tomorrow...tomorrow he'll catch up, but today? Today he was going to get home as fast as he could.
Logan practically ran all the way home, the fresh rush of air pouring into his lungs made the tightness lessen, but the world was still static. His hands trembled as he opened the door and slammed it shut behind him, he leaned back and sighed.
"Logan? Is that you?" His mom called from the kitchen.
"Yeah," he said back, voice cracking. Logan winced and swore in his head, barely catching himself from swearing out loud. His mom was not happy when she learned that his dad let him swear freely back in Texas, he had to re-learn how to watch what he said. "I'm h-home."
She poked her head through the doorway and sighed when she got a good look at him. "Go upstairs, honey. I'll call you for dinner."
Logan could only give her a grateful look before bolting upstairs. He locked the door and threw himself on his bed, burying his head in his pillow and hugging himself tightly. The tightness was back, squeezing his lungs together until he was gasping for air. He dug his nails into his arms, grounding him the best he knew how, and forced himself to take deep breathes even though it kind of, sort of hurt.
He hated moments like these, when the insecurities he pushed back came at him in full force. They were the same ones he had before Texas, just...since he pushed past them in order to make himself more confident and seemingly secure with everything it made them flood him all at once during some moments to remind him that he was still that art geek who had no place in life.
Like now. Now when he couldn't breath, and all he wanted to do was smother himself with his pillow. The world breaking away, letting him fall.
It was all because of coming back to Minnesota and going to this school where everyone he use to know went, memories flashing back to points when everything sucked and he was nothing but an art geek with strangely amazing friends and more problems than could be listed, and bullies, groups of bullies that used him as a punching bag.
Logan gasped, eyes widening as the fact he stood up to Mike Daniels came back to him. He bit his lip hard when the panic he managed to work around at that time came full force. Oh God, oh God. Did he really do that? How did he do that? Why did he do that? How could he be such an idiot? He was going to die. Oh God, Daniels was going to kill him.
His cellphone rang and he was tempted to ignore it, until he saw it was Kasey. He smiled a little, how did she know that exactly what he want right now?
"Logan! How was school? You have to tell me! Did your friends completely freak out? Are you taking AP classes? Art? Chorus? Did you revert to your geeky days or are you still a nerd?" She shouted.
He let out a breathy laugh, still struggling to catch the air he needed. "Kasey, breathe between sentences."
There was silence on the other line. "Logan," she said slowly. "Are you having a flash?"
"Maybe." Logan ran a hand down his face. "Comin' back was harder than I thought. I stood up to my bully and acted confident all day. I just—." He struggled for the words. "It was...difficult."
"Oh, Logan," Kasey said sadly. She knew all about his changes. "Are you going to tell your friends about this?"
He sighed, rubbing his chest. "I might. I don't know. They may not want me as a friend anymore 'cause I'm so different than the Logan they knew."
She laughed. "Logan, anyone who didn't want you as a friend is an complete idiot. Just hang out with them like you use to. Go play hockey. I know you still remember."
"Just 'cause I remember how to play doesn't mean I can still skate," he muttered. There was no use for hockey in Texas, a state mostly focused on football to a ridiculous level. And baseball...football and baseball, and maybe a little bit of horseback riding.
Hell, the state had a spot for every sport except hockey.
"Go with them then," Kasey urged. "Hang out with them and, at the same time, see if you can still skate. Didn't you say skating was like riding a bike? You never forget."
Logan sighed, grinning. "I'm not an elephant, Kasey."
"You sure about that?"
They spent a while arguing about different, stupid things (elephants never forget "I'm not an elephant, Kasey.", ducks breath out of their butts "Yes they do." "No they don't!", that Weeping Angels are real "Don't Blink!", and even more), but Logan knew what was really going on. Kasey was attempting to distract him from his flash.
And her attempts were working.
The racing thoughts were disappearing, the tightness was fading, and his vision was finally clear. He was unbelievably grateful for her tactics and he told her so when they were saying goodbye.
She giggled. "Of course you are."
A minute later they hung up, Logan feeling loads better than he did before. He took a breath and got up, rubbing his sore arms. There were red crescent moons imprinted into his arms, he knew that without looking. Past experiences. Deep enough to bleed, but shallow enough the skin didn't break.
His mom hadn't called him just yet so he figured he could use this tine to put up the last of his pictures, painting, and posters. There were some photographs from before he moved and some from Texas. Then there was a painting of him, Kasey, Misha, Brain, and Victoria—better known as the Freaky Five and his friends from Texas—he did that one for an art assignment. Then the one from before he moved, that one made him cringe every time he looked at it. It was poorly done (he was such an amateur back then) and the four of them looked so awkward. Like they didn't know what to do with themselves. Especially him.
He'd need to make a new one. Really soon.
A couple more anatomy and virus posters went up near his desk and he dug out a medical textbook that some how ended up buried in his closet. Weird.
Now his room looked like he never left.