A/NBig thank you for the reviews. And, I'm updating again. Three updates in eight days, that's definitely a record for me. I had already had this chapter written up entirely, but of course my computer crashed, so I lost it and had to re-write it. It kind of took on a new direction than the other one did. Enjoy though.

Ps: This part isImportant.While writing this entire chapter 'With Me' – Sum 41 was on repeat. Give it a listen while you read, they're amazing. It sets the mood for this chapter, and it's also kind of 'foreshadowing' for the next chapters if you listen to the lyrics closely and interpret them in context to this story.

DisclaimerI thought we had this down. My name is totally Dan Schneider.

I Wish

Chapter Eleven: As his World Crashes

After a relatively normal Sunday and Monday, Logan's Tuesday morning was proving to be no different. Starting with his alarm clock, he pressed snooze an insane amount of times before actually deciding to get up. He guessed that was the benefit of setting it ahead by forty minutes, some extra sleep without being abruptly woken. He rather liked his extra forty minutes in the morning when he could simply lay there, the noises of his roommates echoing from the kitchen into the bedroom.

Reluctantly, he pulled the covers off of him, dragging himself from the comfort of his bed sheets and towards his dresser. He grabbed himself a pair of denim jeans and surprisingly, a black polo t-shirt. It was rare when he wore them, but nonetheless, he did. With his clothes for the day tucked under his arm he made his way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, hardly acknowledging either Chase or Michael.

Since Sunday night's 'ordeal' he hadn't bothered to utter more than a few sentences to either of his roommates, but still managed to maintain a somewhat friendly mood towards them. They seemed to be rather supportive of his choice to shut them out because so far they hadn't pestered him about what exactly had occurred, and he appreciated that. Being only two days later, he definitely wasn't willing to go into complete detail over his and Dana's phone conversation Saturday night, and he wasn't even going to disclose the wish, should he ever decide tell them.

"Logan," Chase called, just as Logan has stepped out of the shower, "We're leaving in ten." Logan's reply was simply a grunt, not putting the effort into even uttering a single word response. Did he even want to go to school today?

However much he had been pondering staying in the dorm on some sort of sick leave, ten minutes later Logan stood ready to leave. With his backpack slung over his shoulder, he yawned, leaning up against the wall next to the door, waiting for Chase and Michael to finish gathering their things.

Moments later, the three boys exited the dorm, heading off to their much dreaded class: Biology. To be fair, it wasn't all that terrible anymore thanks to Logan and his carefully worded wishes. Mr. Vandal had eased up tremendously on the group, even so much as to dismiss a few kids' passing notes via airline. And although Logan had never had a problem with her, he seemed to be enjoying Lola's company as his lab partner much more and was glad he had ended up with her as opposed to Chase or Michael.

The walk to biology was the same as always, except for the lack of good conversation. The three exchanged a few words, but couldn't really hold a topic for too long. As they reached the science building, conversation ceased entirely and the tension became even thicker as they entered their classroom and took their seats. None of the students seemed to know what was going on, but suddenly Mr. Vandal had lost the 'playfulness' he'd developed since Logan's wishing spree began.

"Lola," Logan whispered out of the corner of his mouth. Lola seemed taken aback that he'd spoken, since he'd opted not to talk to her lately. She nodded her head, giving him a slight glance, motioning for him to continue. "What's going on? Did I miss something?"

"Honestly?" She replied. He nodded. "I have no clue. I don't think anyone does." Logan turned back to the front of the class in time to catch sight of someone's 'air mail' soaring accidentally onto the floor next to Mr. Vandal's desk. The teacher, also noticing this, leaned down to retrieve the note and picked it up examining it for a moment. Logan immediately came to the conclusion that whoever the sender was would be screwed.

"Whose is it?" Vandal's voice came from the front of the class, holding up the airplane in one hand. His voice had some form of real emotion in it, one that Logan could never remember being there before. "Do I have to open it to see? Or will someone spare me the time and tell me now?" There were a few moments of silence until someone spoke up from the back of the classroom.

"It's uh, mine." A boy Logan vaguely remembered as Austin spoke up, slightly raising his hand in embarrassment. Mr. Vandal approached him slowly, and the kid looked up at him, worry evident in his eyes.

"Make sure this gets to its destination…" Mr. Vandal placed the mock plane down on the kid's lab bench, "…safely."

The moment the words left his teacher's lips, Logan felt his heart fall into the pit of his stomach and a queasy feeling came over him. His body suddenly began to ache, and he instantly placed a hand over his lungs. He felt his lungs tense up, and he was almost sure he was going to throw up at the nausea. Furrowing his eyebrows, he stayed in the position for a moment.

"Something's wrong." He whispered, barely audible, clenching his hand into a fist.

"What?" Lola whispered to him, thinking he'd said it to her.

"Something's wrong." He answered, a bit louder so she could understand him, still struggling with the feelings overcoming him.

"I could have told you that the second you walked in." She shrugged. She leaned closer, taking another look at him. "You okay?" She asked, genuinely concerned.

"No," He answered truthfully, turning to her, "I mean- something's really wrong. Like, really really wrong."

"How do you figure?" Lola asked, curious as to what Logan was getting at.

"I don't know, I just-" Logan would have finished his sentence with 'know there is' had he not been cut off by their Biology teacher.

"Today, we were going to start the new chapter on cellular division, however, due to certain circumstances, our arrangements have been changed."

The way Mr. Vandal muttered the word 'circumstances' sent chills down Logan's spine. He wasn't sure what the hell was exactly going on, but he sure wanted— No, needed to find out as soon as possible. It wasn't as if he had been looking forward to cell divisions, but it was totally unlikely for Vandal to cancel a class schedule for a minor problem.

"So instead, please open your textbooks to page four thirteen and answer questions one through twelve. It's all review, so there shouldn't be a problem. It's due for next week… if possible." Before he could manage to continue, students began to murmur and whisper between each other, likely about Vandal's sudden change in attitude and leisure way. Simply by coughing, Mr. Vandal managed to gain their attention again.

"An hour into the period, the Dean will be issuing an important announcement, and further classes will be cancelled for the day."

This was something Logan was definitely not expecting to hear from Mr. Vandal. First of all, he was giving them review work mid-way through the semester, and then he implied that the due date (which was more than enough time than he usually allowed) was optional. And although he was sure it was not Mr. Vandal's decision, he had never once in a million years thought he'd hear the words "Classes will be cancelled for the day" come from his mouth. Vandal was a 'trudge through thick and thin' kind of guy. He would have had the perfect mentality for the army had he not been so interested in the sciences.

Logan had definitely never expected to see Vandal so… vulnerable. It was a new thing to him, and he felt genuinely sorry for the guy, despite all the times that he'd been a hard-ass on them all.

After burying himself in eight of the twelve questions, trying to ignore the pain in his chest, Logan finally snapped his head up to the sound of the Classes' televised announcements. He found the Dean seated comfortably at his desk with a solemn expression slain across his face. There was silence from both ends of the screen as the children stared in curiosity and the Dean tried to compose himself.

"It's terrible to say, that as the morning unfolds around us, so does a terrible tragedy." The Dean closed his eyes, further composing himself and taking a deep breath in.

"It is with great remorse that I regret to inform you of the disaster that took place early this morning and has had an effect on people across North America.

"American Airlines flight 407, departing from Boston, Massachusetts at 6:14am was set to arrive in Los Anglos, California at 9:32am. However, mid-flight, the aircraft's pilot, Henry McNair, noticed scraps of metal that seemed to be ripping free from the plane's left wing. Worried for both his passenger's and crew's safety, he immediately contacted the nearest airport's air control tower and reported that the plane needed to make an emergency landing to ensure the safety of everyone on board. The airport quickly cleared a runway for flight 407, and contacted them, informing them that a lane had been cleared, and which one. However, the plane, for unknown reasons, was unable to receive the transmission and was not notified of the landing runway. In a quick attempt to land the plane, McNair chose a runway that was essentially empty and began to descend at an alarming rate. Unfortunately, the plane overshot its landing zone; running head on into an oncoming plane preparing for take off. Both flight 407 and flight 782, managed to slide through runway security fences into the airport parking lot. Within seconds the entire scene had erupted into flames. Police have issued a report saying that they have so far found 347 of the passengers to be dead, one hundred twelve of those passengers still remain unidentified. The remaining passengers of both flights are presumed to be dead. In this time of devastation I, myself, and PCA as a whole would like to offer it's condolences to those who are affected. The remainder of today's classes will be cancelled as we mourn for those who lost their lives in today's gruesome disaster." With those words, the announcement had ended and the students remained glued to the screen, as if afraid to look away.

Logan sat stunned. He had felt something extremely wrong vibrating around him this morning but he had never expected to be this dead on. His body still ached, trying to tell him that there was something more to it, but he disregarded it.

Moments after, the bell had rung, signaling the end of first period and the rest of classes for today. It took a moment, but Logan finally found it in himself to pry his body off his lab stool. Placing a hand over his unsettled stomach, he began walking with Chase, the same route that they usually took to English. They hadn't even noticed they'd been doing it until they reached the spot where they usually met Nicole and she wasn't there. In an instant they'd shifted their direction, instead heading towards their dorm.

When Logan reached door four seventeen, he slipped his key in, unlocking it, and opened the door. He walked in, dropping his bag beside the door and kicking his shoes off. With a sense of dread he took a seat on the couch, flipping on the wide screen television with the remote in his hand. On every channel there seemed to be news coverage of the incident. Gory images streamed the tv, pulling Logan into it as he tried to learn more about what happened. The sound of his phone beeping shook him away from his trance and alerted him to the fact that he had new messages. Jumping up from his position on the couch, he walked into the bedroom, grabbing the phone off his charger and walked back into the living room to resume watching the news.

He dialed in the password for his voicemail as he stood behind the couch, stopping to wait for the automatic lady to come on.

"You have— Three — New messages. To listen to your message press one, to –" He pressed down on the one button before even hearing the rest of the options, his eyes never leaving the television.

"Hey Logan." He forced his attention immediately to the phone in his hands. She had called him.

"Look, I know it's kind of late to apologize. What I said was— what I said was uncalled for, and I'm sorry. You know it's not often that Dana Cruz is willing to apologize, so I'm hoping somewhere in that deep dark mysterious heart of yours you'll be able to forgive me. I know I was wrong to just… jump to conclusions. I should have listened to Nicole-" She paused, "Wow, never thought I'd say that." He couldn't help but smile a little at the tone in her voice, and well, just her voice in general.

"I'm really beyond sorry here. I was really harsh on you, and well, I can't blame things on you just because your you, like I used to. I also can't blame things on you just because I need someone to blame them on. So here's me, apologizing, really lamely I should add, and here's to hoping you'll forgive me." He would have thought that was the end of the message, but the automatic lady hadn't come on yet asking if he'd like to save or delete her message.

"Logan…" He could hear her take a sharp breath although questioning if she should really say what she wanted to, "I- I really miss you." There was sadness in her voice as she spoke the words well below a whisper. They almost had a melody to them; one that touched his heard and mended the pieces he thought would be tattered forever.

"To delete message, press seven, to save message, press nine." He pressed nine and then one to listen to his next message. This too was from her.

"Hi… Logan. I'm not sure if you forgive me or not, or if your ignoring me. It's been almost two days; I figured you'd call me back by now. But anyways, I'm coming back to PCA… sooner than expected. I know I kind of told you guys Saturday, but I found another flight leaving today, Tuesday, that's cheaper. It was going to be a surprise, only Nicole knows, but I figured, what's the point in surprising you if you don't even want to see me, so— Flight Nine twenty two to Boston, Massachusetts, now boarding— Well, I'm boarding now so… I'll see you when I get there I guess. I'll try giving you another call when we stop over, before I transfer planes." The minute she mentioned "stop over" and "transferring planes" his heart dropped deeper into his stomach as his mind jolted back to his wish. He felt bile rise in his throat and his eyes bore into the television in front of him. Before he had much more time to think, he saved the message, and began to listen to the last one, which he guessed was also from her.

"Hey Logan," She sighed, "I just got off my first flight, I'm waiting to transfer planes now, shouldn't be too much longer. I thought I'd update you if you're even getting my messages. Have I mentioned I'm really really sorry? I really can't wait to see you. About four more hours and I'll probably be standing right in front of you, granted you forgive me that is. And don't tell anyone okay, our secret— Flight four zero seven to Los Anglos, Now boarding— Oh, that's my flight…" Logan froze, his face instantly drained of all color. He ran the line through his head, 'Flight four zero seven to Los Anglos, California, Now boarding— Oh, that's my flight'. His phone slipped from his fingertips, smashing onto the ground, and his fingers gripped the widescreen remote next to him tightly.

"Logan? You okay?" Chase called, coming up behind him to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. Frozen, Logan watched the television screen as Paramedics zipped unrecognizable people into white bags, rolling them away on stretchers. As of yet, there were no survivors found, and no one was counting on finding any either. He watched as the firefighters still struggled to put out some of the fire unsuccessfully. Bodies were strewn across the ground as rescue workers tried to pull them from the plane. Many of them were blackened and charred from the sudden explosion. There were blood trails across the cement showing where many people had been dragged along the ground, and then the news anchors cut in, explaining that the authorities were currently contacting all of the passenger's family.

Soon the images became too much for him and all within the same second he shrugged Chase's hand from his shoulder and whipped the remote towards the tv. It slammed into the widescreen, making a deafening noise as it broke the glass surface. The television came crashing from the place it was mounted on the wall, smashing into their glass coffee table, breaking further and sparking. Chase jumped back in surprise, staring at the broken glass and what was left of their tv.

Feeling smaller than he ever had in his life, Logan shrunk to the floor, curling up with his head in his hands. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach never left him, and neither did the aching in his heart. His throat constricted, and he coughed, trying to suck in the air that he could. He could sense Chase bend down next to him, leaning in to see what was wrong.

"The plane," Logan choked out. Tears pricked the back of his eyes, stinging them. He closed his eyes and they watered over, allowing a few tears to streak his face. He didn't bother to wipe them away, not caring whether or not Chase could see, "Sh- she was on-" Chase shook his head, not understanding, urging Logan to finish his explanation. It was scaring Chase to see his usually so strong and stubborn friend reduced to pieces.

Taking a deep breath in, he stared chase in the eyes. There was panic and distress, longing and the overwhelming feeling of hurt and anger etched in them. Logan breathed out the sentence, no louder than the wind, "She was on the plane. Dana was on the fucking plane."

Logan watched as Chase leaned back in alarm, his own eyes wide and watering at a lost friend. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Logan must've been feeling at that moment in time.

But Logan wasn't paying attention to Chase's shock-stricken face or the fact that he was curled up on the ground. The only thoughts running through his mind were of Dana. How he'd never be able to run his fingers through her dark curls, or how he'd never get to place his palms against her cheeks. How he'd never hear her laugh as he laid kisses along her shoulder, or how he'd never feel the warmth of her lips on his own. How he'd never be able to officially forgive her for something he'd long forgiven her for, and especially, how he would never get the chance to tell her that he loved her.

A/NReview before you kill me :(