Hey y'all! New chapter, gosh I haven't updated this in a while. But I just got a request to pull me out of writer's block! Thank you for this request. This chapter is dedicated to Rusher12 (Guest), who had some very strong opinions on Kendall's behavior in Big Time Grump, and requested more Cargan. They did not request a certain NCSI guy, but they also did not not request him, so he's here!

This would've been done by now, but I showed my friend the Kogan Big Time Rush wiki page and she just couldn't handle it. She was very confused. It was really funny.

Slur and also swear warning, used only once. I really should change this from K+ to T.

Happy reading! Enjoy!

The sun is shining right in Logan's face as he sits down across from Carlos. They're in Palm Woods Park, occupying one of the many picnic tables around. Logan reaches for his own notebook, laying it out in front of him, one side half folded over the other. Carlos is doing the same thing. But, as previously observed, the sun glare, the heat itself bordering on the line between pleasantly warm and painfully scorching, makes it rather difficult for Logan to see Carlos's notes, regardless of the illegible handwriting.

Logan's gotten better at deciphering it, anyway. Sometimes Carlos's sevens look like twos, and he's not very good at writing out the angle congruency symbols clearly. Logan's used to it, he knows what the equation is supposed to look like either way.

"Did I do the equation right?"

He squints, leaning over the table to read Carlos's notes. It looks mostly right, he's set up the formula properly. But, is that a seven or two? It's a two, not a seven, maybe? A seven would've gotten him the correct answer. Is that a seven or a two? He blinks. It's a seven. Carlos did it right.

"Yeah, I think so. Do the next one. Do you want lemonade? I can get some."

"Sure, Logan."

He stands up from the picnic table, slowly lifting his legs out from the table and over the bench. He catches someone staring, but he doesn't turn to see who it is. He doesn't need to. His peripheral vision has given it away: it's that guy.

He doesn't need this. Logan briskly walks to the smoothie cart and orders two lemonades.

"Five twenty-five," the girl at the stand tells him.

He nods, pulling out his wallet. He hands over a five dollar bill.

"Twenty-five," the girl repeats.

Logan nods again, already searching his wallet for the quarter. He only keeps quarters in his wallet, all the other change is useless. Why would you even dare to pay with pennies? Why was there even a one cent coin? Nothing costs one cent anymore.

He handed over the quarter. In return, the girl handed over two lemonades.

"Thank you," he said as he walked away, one lemonade in each hand.

He doesn't remember seeing anything in his way. Nothing was obviously obstructing his path, the short distance between him and Carlos. Despite him not noticing, something must have been there. He trips, splashing the first lemonade in his own face and shirt, spilling the other one to the ground.

He stiffens as his shirt, now soaked with lemonade, clings to him, sticking to his ribs. The sun is beating down intensely. His own sweat and the lemonade is mixing together, dripping down his body. It has to be one of the worst tactile sensations he's ever felt in his life.

He glances down at the empty cups. He's not about to walk back to the smoothie cart and buy more lemonade. The girl saw what happened, mostly everyone in the park did. If the embarrassment wasn't enough to convince him he needed to get back to Apartment 2J immediately, his shirt was.

But he still has to help Carlos with the homework. He shakes his head, but continues over to Carlos. He sits back down, right back in his spot on the picnic bench where the sun's heat rays are physically harassing him.

"Where are the lemonades?" Carlos asks, looking up from his notebook. Carlos probably didn't see any of it.

Logan watches as Carlos's gaze falls on his shirt. "Oh. On you."

They leave it at that for a few minutes, since Logan decides to work on his own notes in an attempt to distract himself from how gross he's feeling. He's pressing the pencil into the paper too hard, the tip snaps, he doesn't have a sharpener. Carlos looks up. That's when Logan drops his pencil, looking down, under the table, to search for it.

He doesn't know how it could possibly get any worse, the feeling of his shirt sticking to his back the way it was. But somehow it does get worse, as the shirt slides downwards, only slightly, and Logan bends to pick up the pencil. He gags, hitting his head on the underside of the table when he straightens back up.

"Logan," Carlos said, staring. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

But then he changes his answer as a particularly harsh ray of sunlight burns through him. He can't sit out here anymore, not with the heat, certainly not with this shirt on. He'd be fine if they could just go back to the apartment. "Can we go back up to the apartment?"

Carlos nods, for which Logan is eternally grateful. They are both collecting their various notebooks and other school supplies. It's a quiet process that only takes a minute. During this minute, Logan hears laughter nearby. There's whispering. Carlos probably hears it too.

Logan zips up his bag, unsure of how to carry it. There's lemonade practically everywhere, and if he slings his backpack over his shoulder, his backpack will press against his shirt, and that's…undesirable. He settles for awkwardly, in the most not-awkward way possible, holding the straps out in front of him. This is ineffective, causing him to trip again, right over his own feet.

The laughter gets closer, and the whispering. Most of the whispers are unintelligible, but he does pick up a few phrases.

Namely: "Fucking retard."

Logan blinks as Carlos helps him to his feet, trying to determine who said it, and how many times he heard it. It and it's many different variations.

He realizes Carlos is gone.

"What did you say?" Carlos is asking the group. NCSI guy is in the front. They're glaring at each other.

Logan stumbles to his feet. He really can't have another scene in the park today, not after what just happened. And what if Carlos decided to beat the guy up. He was strong, but not as strong as Kendall. Carlos would get hurt, badly. Logan grabs Carlos's elbow.

Carlos turns to him. "What?"

"Carlos, it's fine, let's just get back."

"I don't think it's fine, Logan. He called you a—"

"I know what he called me."

"And he shouldn't have!"

Before Logan can say anything else, Carlos is sizing up this guy, like maybe he will punch him, just to see what happens. If Carlos punches anyone in that group, he'll be the one sustaining the most injuries.

"You shouldn't have called Logan that," Carlos started off.

"He's a freak," the guy replied. "With his little freak friend to defend him."

That's when Carlos does cause a scene, launching himself at the guy. Caught off guard, the guy stumbles. Carlos tackles him easily then, thrashing and kicking wildly.

It's done as soon as it starts, both backing away from each other warily.

Carlos offers to carry Logan's bag as they walk back, which is not met with any refusal.

Logan is too shocked to say anything. He had seen Carlos tackle James and Kendall and even sometimes himself down to the floor, but this was different. "You–"

"I know what I did."

Carlos has always been uncomfortable with silence, especially the heavy, meaningful one that follows. He interrupts it quickly, before it swallows u p any chance of conversation. "Want to race?"

"Sure?"

"Loser has to drink your shirt!"

"Ugh, what? Gross!"

"Then you better be running, amigo."

Logan ran for dear life.

Hope you enjoyed, especially Rusher12! Have a lovely day, everyone!