First of all, I want to thank each and every reviewer for this story! :) I mean, wow! You guys are awesome!
Second of all, I'm sorry for the slow update. I've been sick all week, and I had ACT the previous weekend.
Fun fact: this is the third update I posted within two days HOLLA~. That's right, like a boss. I updated three of my stories.
Anyway, here's the next chapter. Enjoy!


Logan could see it. The path straight to the goal was clear, unblocked. Well, almost, there was that chump of a goalie. He had the puck in his possession. It was tempting, but he had a bad feeling about this. It was too easy. This had to be a set-up. It couldn't be this easy. He felt his hand lurch out and his skates pushing off the ice to gain momentum. What was he doing? He was falling into a trap and he knew it. His adrenaline was coursing through his vein at such an intense speed and he couldn't think. He didn't have time to think.

"No, Logan, what are you doing?" he heard Jett scream from behind him, but he was silenced by an opponent's tackle.

Logan was speeding down the ice, dribbling the black puck with his stick. Before he could shoot, he was pushed to the side and slammed into the sideboards, earning a loud groan from the audience. Even with all the thick padding, he felt a lot of the impact as he slumped onto the ice. Pain shot up his arm and to his chest. Son of a bitch might've dislocated it.

The referees blew their whistle, temporarily pausing the game as they glided over to Logan to check up on him.

"Are you okay?" the one with the mustache asked.

"Yeah," he grumbled, getting up. As soon as he got back on his feet, more pain surged up his leg as well and he crumpled back down.

"Get him off the ice. I'll go back to notify the coach," the same ref directed and skated off.

After all four of the men helped Logan back to the bench, he was met with cold stares and shakings of heads from his coach and teammates.

"I told you, didn't I? Why the hell would you think it would be that fucking easy?" Jett hissed, taking out his teeth guard. "God damn it! How are we supposed to play with our captain injured?"

"Shut the fuck up, Jett," Logan retaliated. "If you spent more of your time practicing instead of giving that James kid shit, maybe you could actually be of use in this team. Who named you co-captain anyway? You're useless."

The entire team stared at Logan in complete shock. He had never said anything mean to any of them unless it was a form of constructive criticism. He was always the nicest, the most patient. Even Jett didn't bother to snap back; his jaw had hit the floor.

"That's enough, Logan," the coach sternly demanded. "Sit in the locker room and wait for the paramedics. In the meantime, Jett, you're leading the Hornets tonight."

"But Coach, I'm not prepared! I didn't even think of any strategies!" he protested, but the coach wouldn't have it.

"Wow, great co-captain," Logan sarcastically remarked, struggling as he pushed himself up onto his feet.

"What's your problem today, Jesus Christ?" Jett muttered.

Logan, along with a ref, finally made it to the locker room and he got situated on a bench near his locker.

"Are you okay by yourself?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Just try to change out of your uniform and the paramedics should be arriving soon."

"Got it," Logan grunted. He slowly reached for his skates, carefully unlacing the laces. Every inch of his body hurt like a bitch. He was so mad, at everything. At himself, at the dumbass defense that knocked the air out of him, at James. Yes, at James. He just had to fucking kiss him and then leave and ignore him. He probably wasn't even at the game. What a jackass.

He was interrupted by a knock on the door behind him that separated the rink from the locker rooms.

"Thanks ref, but I can change myself," Logan said, eyes still fixed on unlacing his skates.

"I'm not the ref, although that's good to know you still know how to change."

Every muscle in Logan's body froze, though in all honesty, half of them were probably already paralyzed by the impact of the brute hockey player. But still, that voice. He could recognize it anywhere.

"James, you're not supposed to be here," Logan spat, his fingers tangled with his laces.

"I know, I snuck in here."

James sat next to Logan on the bench. Logan glanced at James, who half smiled at him. His hair was sticking up everywhere, like he had just rolled out of his bed, and his plaid shirt was buttoned up wrong.

"You look messy," Logan remarked, not with any hostility or bitterness, but just as a statement.

"I know, I got a call from Carlos. He almost died of a panic attack you know?" James laughed as he recalled his friend gasping from air on the phone. He reached to touch Logan's battered arm. "I hope you're okay."

"Yeah, sure." He jerked his arm away from James' touch. "You didn't even have the balls to show up to one of my games? Where you don't even have to talk to me and make fucking eye contact with me? God damn it James, just leave then," Logan fired, this time with lots of venom laced in his words. He turned his head away and angrily began to untie his laces. He was trying to hide his hurt expression from the brunette sitting mere feet away. His frantic arm motions made his injuries hurt even more, but he didn't care at all at that moment.

"God Logan, you think it's all about you, don't you? I'm already making it about you, trying to help you survive. Last time I checked, I agreed to be your friend as long as no one knew about it. Guess who ended up getting hurt? Me. Last time I checked, you ditched me in middle school because I wasn't cool enough. My best friend since grade school. Guess who ended up getting hurt? Me. And because I don't go to one hockey game, you have to be a princess about it? Get over yourself, Logan. What the hell do you want me to do? You want me here but you don't want people to know about us."

Logan dropped his head and sulked, because every word was true. He was an asshole to James, and all this time, James had a crush on him. He didn't even expect anything from him, even after all the shit that went down between them. The acknowledgment of his mistakes only amplified the ache and pain attacking his drained body.

"I'm sorry." Logan faced James, who was glaring at the linoleum tiles. His eyebrows were pushed together and his face was flushed with anger.

James softened his expression and flicked his eyes to the shorter boy. He let out a small breath and brushed his bangs out of his eyes.

"Don't be. What did I expect from a guy like you? I mean, you're so perfect and popular. You have everything. And look at me, I'm nothing compared to you! I'm nerdy, my glasses are stupid, my hair is a mess, and I've decided. I know what I'm doing, and so don't try to talk me out of it okay? I've thought over this—"

"James," Logan interrupted.

"I'll agree to be whatever it is that you want me to be. Secret boyfriend, secret partners-in-crime, whatever."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "What? No. No, I'm sorry. I can't ask you to do that."

"Logan," James whined, resembling a small child. "Look, I like being around you and I've liked you for so, so long. And after thinking, I'd rather be able to hang out with you in private than not at all… so will you go on a secret date with me?"

The hockey player grimaced. He didn't want to put James through this position again, seeing that it broke his heart last time. However, James seemed adamant on it, and how bad could it be to date in secrecy? Celebrities do it all the time. He just needed to make sure what he was doing at school didn't offend or hurt James in any way.

"Yes," Logan finally replied, a little bit hesitant. "Fine. But if I do anything wrong, tell me, okay?"

James nodded. Just then, the front doors swung open and four paramedics barged into the room. One of them pushed the smart one aside and told him that he couldn't be here.

"Hey, I'll come over to your house later tonight, alright?" Logan yelled over the machines buzzing.

James bit his lower lip and nodded before running out. He had so much to tell Carlos.


"You're officially in idiot. Good job."

"Carlos, can you act a little bit more excited for me?" James sighed into the phone.

"Until you start being smart again, fuck no. I was actually sympathizing him because he got his ass checked by some big dude in white and orange but now I actually envy that guy. I want to beat the shit out of him for toying with your heart."

James smiled and rolled his eyes. He loved Carlos and his defensive tendencies; he knows that Carlos just cared about him.

"I brought it up, Carlos. I thought about it for a long time. I mean, being bullied by Jett wasn't his fault. I can't really blame him for not defending me."

"Uh, yeah you can. Friends help friends. Now that you two are sh, dating, what's he supposed to do? Watch you get your ass pummeled? Not very romantic," Carlos scoffed.

"Hey, I have you, don't I?"

"True, but I can't be the only person to defend you. I'm just saying, I don't think you should've proposed this secret dating. It's just going to blow up in your face, and I say this in the nicest way possible."

"Well you should spend less time worrying about my relationship and focus on yours. Have you made a move on Kendall yet?" James asked, a smug grin on his face.

He could practically feel Carlos blushing through the phone as he stammered a nonsensical response.

"Sh-shut up! At least what I have with Kendall has potential to be real!"

"Well hurry up, someone might get to his German ass before you and charm him. And my relationship has potential too… sort of!" James argued back.

"Right, as if anyone could charm better than I can. My looks are intoxicating!" Carlos cackled.

James bursted into laughter. He loved the weird cackle that Carlos does when he's joking around.

"Oh you slay me, Garcia," he giggled, wiping the tear from his eyes. His abs were aching as he couldn't stop shaking with laughter.

"By the way, how was detention yesterday?" Carlos remembered. "Are there bad seeds in there?"

James gasped and widened his eyes, touching his lips with his fingertips.
"What?"

"I forgot to take the slip, nonetheless attend!" James shrieked. "Oh my God, Mr. Collins is going to slaughter me. I just raced out of the room as soon as the bell rang and, oh shit."

Carlos stifled his laughter, but James could hear him perfectly clearly.

"Carlos shut up! This isn't funny! Stanford's not going to accept me now that I'm practically a delinquent," James moaned, sweat collecting at his brow. He's never been more scared to return back to school.

"Did you finish your extra assignments?" Carlos reminded.

James slapped his face. Logan had become such a distraction that he seemed to forget about homework frequently. "No."

"Go do it, dude. Isn't Logan coming over soon?"

"Yeah," James muttered. "I'll talk to you later."

"Good idea," Carlos chuckled. "See you."

James hung up and threw his phone somewhere across his room. He pulled out his math homework and began furiously writing. He glanced at the clock on his dresser, which read 8:03 PM. Logan could be arriving any moment. BS it or make Logan wait for him to finish, but do an adequate job?

"Logan, you better be fucking worth it," he thought aloud as he wrote down random numbers for each number.


Lol I actually didn't realize James left without the detention slip so whoever pointed that out, thank you! I encorporated it.
I have to say honestly, I wasn't too satisfied with how this chapter turned out so feedback for this is greatly encouraged.
Plus reviews make my day. As do alerts and favorites, so thank you guys, all of you guys! :D

So how hard do you want to hit James right now for deciding to date Logan in private? :O
What could possibly go right?