a/n: I know I said I might not update but I'm in such a good mood because of... everything. But ESPECIALLY because of Elevate! I must say: I love that album SO MUCH! ALL OF THE SONGS! EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. They were half of the inspiration for this (other than all of you)!

Kay. I'm done with my spazzing now. Thanks to: Carla, Emmajfjch, CheekyBrunette, HonararyLoser, T-Bone14, freakycutiecarlos, Robin-n-Hoodie, Lito-Arumi, Hikari no Kasai, Anonymous Skrtle, bluestring, I heart Logan and Carlos, RarusuTLS, GotBrainsButnoBeauty, and NoctePluvia for reviewing. It means the world to me.

Disclaimer: I forgot last chapter! I don't own BTR or Lil Wayne's How to Love.

Chapter 10: Busted

Katie POV

"So they're good?" Camille asked again excitedly. I rolled my eyes. "Yes Camille... they're good." A series of loud squeals erupted from Camille and the other three girls I told, effectively gaining the attention of the many other teens in the lobby. I gave them an embarrassed and apologetic smile before returning my attention to the still giddy girls.

"Well finally!" Stephanie exclaimed. "It took long enough." That got a giggle out of the rest of us. This morning I told them all about what I had seen happen last night after dinner and they couldn't be any more excited about it; especially Camille and Stephanie. "What about Kendall and James?" Jo asked excitedly. "They're... still not talking to Carlos," I admitted ruefully. She gave a small, sad smile and nodded in understanding. "It's OK. I'm just glad Carlos finally had a guy friend to hang out with now," Jo said. We all let out words of agreement as the elevator dinged, signalling it had returned to the ground level. The teenage girls and I smiled and giggled as we saw who exited the elevator.

Carlos POV

It was quite awkward between Logan and I to say the least. We had just begun talking to each other after that huge bump in the road. It was just him and I at the breakfast table since James and Kendall were still sleeping and Katie and Mrs. Knight were already up and out for the day. It was quiet between the two of us, a few words coming from each of our lips. The way to the elevator was better, actual sentences coming through. By the time we had actually stepped into the elevator we began to get into a full conversation.

"All I'm saying is that bringing an amusement park to a deserted island isn't such a smart idea," Logan told me. We had gone back to the conversation we had the day of our very first photo shoot. "How will people even know that you're there?" I rolled my eyes. "They'll know I'm there when-" I stopped arguing when I noticed that five girls were staring at us with creepy smiles on their faces when we stepped out of the elevator.

"Why'd you stop talking?" Logan asked with a confused look painted on his face. I pointed discreetly to the girls on the couches and he looked their way. I saw him cringe when he noticed them. "Why are they staring at us like that?" Logan whispered. "I honestly don't know," I whispered back. "But maybe if we walk away slowly they don't do anything." He nodded and we slowly began to walk away from the elevator and to the pool area. We were halfway there when we were each grabbed by two pairs of hands and pushed on to a couch.

"What's going on?' Logan and I asked simultaneously. The girls just sat down, smiles never leaving their faces. "Girls?" I asked, waving a hand over their faces. "You're friends again!" Camille suddenly shrieked. I rolled my eyes; I should've seen this coming. To my right though, Logan was blushing so much he could put ripened tomatoes to shame. "Yeah," he mumbled. The girls squealed again and attacked us in bone-crushing hugs. Logan and I struggled for breath as we desperately tried to push the girls off of us.

"Get... off," I choked. "Can't... breathe..." Logan added, equally out of breath. When the girls finally released us we took huge gasps of air. "Sorry..." Rachael said sheepishly. Logan and I just smiled.

"So... what happened?" Stephanie questioned, unable to hide her excitement any more. I rolled my eyes once again- at this rate I swear that they're bound to fall out. "Exactly what Katie told you. He explained what was going on in his head, apologized, and I forgave him. Simple as that." It was the girls turn to roll their eyes now.

"Come ON!" Jo drawled. "You honestly expect us to believe that's all that happened?" I gave her a blank look. "Uuuuuhhhhhh... yeah," Logan and I said in unison. "That simultaneous sentence tells me otherwise," Jo remarked in a sing-song voice. "Oh please," I exclaimed. "That's just Logan's brain coordinating with my brain," I told them, bringing Logan in a headlock and giving him a noogie. He struggled but laughed along with the rest of us. Our laughs quieted down when two other figures entered the room, causing a large amount of tension. I unhooked my arm from around Logan's neck and gave him the ability to sit up straight. We all seemed to be having a staring contest with the two tall boys looking down upon us until Kendall broke the silence.

"Hey, uh, Logan... could we talk for a minute?" I could hear Logan gulp and I turned my head towards him, giving him an encouraging smile. "Sure," he replied, standing up. I could see him flinch as James put a casual arm around his shoulder.

As they rounded a corner, my attention was brought back to the girls in front of me. "What was that all about?" Jo asked, obviously puzzled. "I don't know," I replied offhandedly. "Shouldn't you know?" Katie questioned. "He is your boyfriend." Jo smirked. "Yeah? Well he's your brother." I smiled fondly. "But seriously, I wonder what they're talking about," Camille asked, obviously still sceptical. "Yeah," Rachael piped up. "It's weird... they're weird." We all nodded and made noises of affirmation. Five minutes of almost silent curiosity passed before we saw Logan re-enter the lobby. He gave a soft smile and stood by the corner he had to turn when he left. He looked directly at me and nodded his head to my left, wanting to talk privately. I stood up and followed him, ending up in a secluded area by the pool.

"What's going on?" I wondered aloud. "They... they wanted me to choose," Logan began, continuing when I raised a confused eyebrow. "They wanted me to choose who I wanted to be friends with- you... or them." It felt like someone stuck a needle into my heart and it deflated like a balloon.

"I get it. You want to be friends with. It's cool, really," I stated as I started to walk away. "NO you doof! I told them that I wanted you to be my friend." As cheesy as it sounds, it felt as though the deflated balloon known as my heart was sudden;y inflated once again. "I told them that we should all put this behind us and be friends again but they wouldn't have it. It was either them or you. I betrayed once already Carlos, and I'm not planning on doing it again," he said most of this with a smile. It took me a moment to comprehend what he had said, but when I did I engulfed him in a big hug. "You're the best, you know that?" He rolled his eyes and pushed me off of him. "Yeah, yeah don't make this into a love fest." "Aw, Logie doesn't like love? Come on Logan, let me show you how to love- just like Lil Wayne!" I reached to him but he stepped out of the way, "No." I smirked. "Come on!' I reached out again. "No!" he said, firmer this time. I ignored him and attempted to grab him again. "Don't be a hater!" He ran away and I started to chase him all around the Palm Woods.

Just like old times.

I had come upstairs by myself since Logan went with Camille for a 'celebratory' date in the park while Katie went to scam grown men and women out of their hard-earned money. Jo and Rachael decided to have some girl time and went to the mall- leaving me alone. It's not like I minded though.

I walked into 2J with a big smile gracing my face. Today had been one of the best days I've had in a long time. Hanging out with the girls has been great (there's even a small rumour going around that I'm becoming a ladies' man), but I do need to spend some time with someone of my own gender.

The smile was soon wiped off my face when I entered my room. My laundry basket was empty. As in... empty- nothing was in it. "Oh, no..." I looked all around my room for the washcloth and it wasn't anywhere.

"Looking for this?" I spun around at the voice. My eyes widened as I noticed Mrs. Knight standing in the doorway, the washcloth in her hand.

"N-no. Why would I be looking for that?" I asked, cursing myself for stuttering. "Oh I don't know. This is just a thought but: maybe it's because it's covered in blood and it was in your hamper. And maybe because I was pricked by some hidden razor blades when my bobby pin fell into the garbage in the bathroom. What is this Carlos? Have you started cutting again?" I froze. How did she know about that? I've never told anyone about that but Logan.

"No," I responded immediately. "I mean... no because I've never done it before," I lied, discreetly hiding my bandaged arm. "Oh? Then let me see your arm. That's not a problem is it? After all... you've never cut yourself, right?" I gulped and moved my arm from behind me. Mrs. Knight raised an eyebrow. I sighed and took off my light grey sweater. No more than a second later I rolled up the sleeve of my burgundy coloured shirt, revealing the white gauze that contrasted harshly against my caramel-coloured skin. I didn't look up as I slowly unravelled the thick bandages and let it fall to the floor in an uneven pile. When my arm was fully exposed Mrs. Knight gasped softly. The gash was large, red, and swollen. It was also significantly longer than the other ones, stretching to the middle of my forearm while the others were only about 5 centimetres long or so.

Mrs. Knight removed her hand form in front of her mouth and put the washcloth in my garbage can. She walked slowly over to where I was silently studying my scar, extremely interested. She grabbed my arm gently and pulled it in her direction, making me break my gaze and bring it to her saddened face. Her bright blue eyes looked over the cut and I saw that she was on the verge of crying. "Carlos..." she choked. "Why...?" That's all it took for me to break down crying. The salty tears cascaded down my face, most falling onto my arm, making the cut sting pleasurably. Pleasurably. I find pain pleasurable; it's disgusting and so am I.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. I don't know what I'm apologizing for but I felt it was the right thing to do. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." I kept repeating. Right now I just wanted to find those razor blades again and cut everything. I sobbed harder. I'm sick. Something's wrong with me- I'm becoming one of those people in movies that want to cut themselves after the slightest thing happens. One of those people in rehab that you think are nasty because of all the scars they have. One of those people who you feel so bad for. One of those people who you swear you'll never become. The person I am.

"Carlos, sweetie, I need to bring you to the hospital. And then... I think we should make a stop to Dr. Crestman's office," Mrs. Knight spoke softly but I could easily hear the pity in her voice. She felt sorry for me. Heck- even I felt sorry for myself. I nodded nonetheless, starting to wipe my eyes with my free hand. She nodded back and left, letting go of my arm and allowing it to fall to my side. She came back a few seconds later with some tissues and water. I took the tissues and wiped my eyes then blew my nose, disposing of the now used tissue in the garbage can with the washcloth in it. I gratefully took the glass of water and took a large gulp after a small smile to Mama Knight. I finished the glass of water and muttered a small "thanks" to the auburn-haired woman. She smiled softly and re-wrapped my arm in new gauze that she also brought in. She pulled down the sleeve and handed me the forgotten sweater. I put it on and we made our way to the elevator.

When it arrived we took it to the ground floor and stepped off when the doors re-opened. Mrs. Knight and I walked through the many throngs of people in the lobby and to the car. I pulled the door open when the car was unlocked and slid inside. I immediately buckled my seatbelt and waited for Mrs. Knight to make her way into the driver's seat. When she did, she turned on the car and was about to drive off when I stopped her.

"You should put on your seatbelt," I muttered, looking blankly at my hands. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her give me a sympathetic glance before buckling her seatbelt and securing herself. Once she was ready, she stepped on the gas pedal and exited the Palm Woods Parking Lot.

I walked into the hospital with my head bowed and my hands in the front pockets of my black skinny jeans. I didn't pay attention as Mama Knight spoke to a young woman with hazel eyes behind thick black-rimmed glasses and wavy dark brown hair at the receptionists' desk. I zoned out and let my thoughts wander. Why did I let it get this far? Why didn't I just stick up for myself earlier? Why, why, why? I only asked the questions and I had the answer to absolutely none of them. I snapped out of my reverie when I heard me name being called.

"-los," I looked to my left and saw Mrs. Knight and the receptionist looking at me with concerned eyes. "Yeah?" I asked curtly. "Can I take a look at your arm sweetie?" Lorraine (according to her nametag) asked politely. I hesitantly nodded in agreement and shrugged off my sweater once again, Mama Knight gently prying it out of my grasp. I rolled up my sleeves and extended my arm so I could unravel the gauze. Once that was done, i extended my arm even further so that Lorraine could examine it.

She took my arm precariously and scanned it. She gasped softly as she saw the new, deep gash in my forearm. "Dear God..." she exclaimed to herself. She looked up at me and I could see the disappointment in her hazel eyes. "I'll get a doctor right on that," she told us gently in her obvious southern accent. Mrs. Knight nodded whilst I took my arm away, not even bothering to bandage it up or roll back up my sleeve. I watched as Lorraine pressed a button and returned her attention back to us. "A doctor will attend you shortly. You may wait in the waiting room," she said nicely, referring to the large room down the hall and to the left. I immediately headed down there and sat on one the extremely uncomfortable sea green couches. I kept my head down, even as I heard the sound of Mrs. Knights high heels clicking on the white tiles.

As she sat beside me in silence I could feel her gaze boring into the side of my head, I could practically see the confusion swimming in her sea blue eyes, and could hear the question buzzing around in her head, all awaiting to be asked. Before she got the chance to open her mouth though, I beat her to the punch. "How'd you know? That I cut myself I mean," I asked, still not looking at her. I could hear her let out a small sigh.

"Before we came to Los Angeles," she began. "All the parents met together so that we could discuss how everything was going to go once we moved to L.A. Marissa came as well since... well you know. WE all talked for a while and once we all finished Marissa pulled me over privately. She told me that you had cut yourself and that sometimes you had sudden outbursts and would afterwards lock yourself in your room and shut yourself out completely from the outside world."

I squeezed my eyes shut. It was true, every single word. After my Mom died I cut myself once and I'd lock myself in my room for hours on end. I still do that sometimes when I'm upset. Especially on the dates of February 19th and June 23rd. I got better after nine and a half months later when I was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress.

Seven months after I began to get better, my Dad died in a car accident. He and we kids spent an entire warm, June day at the beach, forgetting and not caring about anything else in the world. When the sun began to set we all just stood on the shore with our feet in the water, waves tickling and overlapping our toes. When the bright colours began to turn into a dark blue and pitch black, we packed out stuff up and headed into the Honda Sonata we had and piled in. We'd been driving for no more than 10 minutes when Marissa and I each found ourselves falling asleep and headed for Dreamland with Luke. I was rudely awakened when a series of honks were heard. Before I could even comprehend what was going on, I felt myself being jolted harshly to the side. The seatbelt was digging ruthlessly into my neck, causing a broken, pained scream to escape my lips. Even louder screams were heard throughout the car as it rolled over multiple times on the street. The car was hit again from the front when we were upside down. When the car was hit it caused the car and my head to fly back and I lose consciousness.

By the time I woke up two days had passed. I had severe whiplash, a broken leg, and a sprained wrist. I had three cracked ribs- two on the right and on the left. I had multiple scratches and bruises all over my body and a burn on my left hip. Apparently the car had burst into flames just when the ambulance and police had come. Some of the flames had managed to lick my skin when they heaved me out. But I wasn't the worst off.

Marissa had broken both of her legs and her right arm. She had four cracked ribs and a very bad concussion. There was a possibility of her having brain cancer and they had given her multiple tests, awaiting results. She never did get any brain damage- it's just that she forgets things easily. She also had a couple burns: one on her right ankle and one on her left shoulder stretching down to her back. The fact that she broke both of her legs was scary because she was a dancer. She did all kinds of dance: ballet, hip-hop... you name it and she's probably done it. She had a passion for contemporary and jazz dance which were both very involved with leg movements. We all thought that she'd never dance again. But Marissa's strong. She overcame the hurdle that was in her way and after some struggle she was dancing better than ever before.

Luke shattered his left leg and also had a concussion. He too had whiplash but nothing very serious. The only thing that the doctors were worried about was the severe amount of blood he had lost.

The worst off was my Dad. He was severely burned and broke many of his bones. He had critical damage to his brain and it was enough to kill him during surgery.

I remember screaming and thrashing around when the doctor told me. I remember having to be sedated in order to calm down. When I remembered when I woke up I just broke down crying. Then I recalled the sounds of the crunching metal, the feel of the fire touching my skin... the sounds of the screams and the cried from my family members and myself. That was one of the worst three days of my life.

"Yeah," I breathed out, admitting to my weaknesses. "It's OK," Mrs. Knight told me, grabbing my hand comfortingly. I squeezed my eyes shut again. My parents used to do that all the time. They'd be able to soothe me with just one touch. I'd be calm and it'd seem like nothing even happened. I wasn't soothed now though. It just made me want to curl up in a ball and die so I could be with my parents.

"Thanks," I choked out. I kept my head down as I heard more heels land on the floor in a rhythmic manner. "Carlos Garcia." My head whipped up and my eyes widened as I heard a familiar voice call my name. There, in the doorway of the wating room, was Dr. Thomason.

Oh no.

a.n/ another cliffy! I decided to update because I found the time and it was gift for me and you! I love updating and writing this story and I'm a person who loves giving rather than receiving.

Thanks for reading and by the way... is there anything any of you want to see in this story? (Other than the boys being friends again). I love to hear your ideas so much!

Hopefully I'll see you soon! Reviews inspire ideas! ;)

Later peepz!