I could not think of anything better for this chapter, guys, I know it sucks. I've been busy lately and the only thing I've managed to update besides this chapter was my daily challenge, oops.

I also start school again tomorrow, so I've been worrying about that, haha.

So this is just a filler chapter. Nothing too extreme.

Kendall is still a whiny bitch, and he still questions his insanity. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Or, at least, that is how it is is my mind.

I'll update sooner than I did with this chapter next time.

Thank you all for everything you've done.

"I don't know, James, something about that conversation doesn't sit well with me. It's kind of off."

I sigh, swirling the coffee in my cup while waiting for his response.

"Well, I do know one thing," he says, clearing his throat to grab my attention.

"Yes?" I look up at him and he continues.

I set the coffee cup down on the discoloring Formica countertop, smirking when James winces at the fact I don't use something to cover up the counter underneath.

When it's his house, he can give me twenty thousand coasters, and I'll use every single one.

But here, here is where I don't give a shit.

"It was supposed to be a private conversation. And eavesdropping was a terrible thing to for you to do, Kendall, especially with something so serious. You don't know the guy. You don't know his story." He slowly takes a sip of coffee, watching my every move.

I clench my hands and slowly realize that James isn't the enemy here.

I need to calm down. Maybe this whole Logan thing will blow over.

But everything about him is stuck in my brain, and I simply cannot stop thinking about him.

Tapping the countertop with my fingertips, I kick the wall separating James and I.

"So, are you going to see him again?"

What do you think James?

What do you really think?

I remember everything so vividly, almost as if it only happened minutes earlier.

I remember his face when his wobbly knees gave out on him on the ice, I remember his blush when I helped him up.

I also remember when we held hands the rest of the day, sharing a hot chocolate in his car.

And then making out ferociously, heating up the car so much that the windows were fogged and I was sweating so heavily that my bangs were plastered to my forehead.

The look on his face when he dropped me off a block from my apartment, and the beaming smile he flashed me when I told him I would call.

I then waited ten minutes for the coast to clear before I walked the slow block home to my trashy apartment, the day's memories playing through my head as his voice became the soundtrack.

James grunts and stands. "If you aren't going to face him, then stop fucking obsessing over him."

No, wait, you don't understand.

No, wait, I might be insane.

I roll my eyes, getting myself out of the fuzzy thoughts, slowly but surely.

"No, James, I will."

He crosses his arms and stomps a foot. "You will what?"

"I'll call."

"Then do it, your phone is sitting right there, and he'll probably pick up."

Yeah, probably.

My thumb pushes in those seven digits, those seven digits that I have grown to know from heart, that I've practiced every hour of every day sincce I met him.

Five or six or seven days ago.

I can't remember.

Those seven digits are being sent through the phone as I think of what to say, and finally, he answers.

"Hello?"

The voice of an angel.

"Hey, Logan? It's… It's Kendall."

James gives me a quick thumbs up as he leaves the kitchen, leaving me to fend for myself.

"Hey, how have you been?"

After a thrilling night you know what you should ask?

How have you been?

It's foolproof.

"What do you mean?"

He chuckles but hesitates before replying. "I'm just asking."

Oh, right.

Act normal, Kendall.

Act like you aren't fucked up in the head.

Which, you totally are. But Logan does not need to find out.

But suddenly something else fills my mind, a different me. Someone who's upfront and cunning, sophisticated and clever.

And that someone is using my voice to reply to this, this kid.

"Are you busy tonight?"

Hey, that's not so bad. But Logan is breathing pretty heavily.

Was it how I said it?

Most likely.

"When?"

And it's like our first time together all over again, bodies pressed together in ways I had no fucking clue existed, our breathing heavy and rough.

Except not really.

"Tonight, like I said? You could pick me up at my place."

There's a short breath on the other line, and then he laughs. "What about at your place, Kendall? I'd like to see your humble abode."

Oh fucking shit. "Can you hold on a moment, Logan?"

"Sure thing," he says, and it isn't before I drop my phone does he start to hum.

I need James. More importantly, I need his house.

"Why are you being so difficult?"

"There is no fucking way," he hisses through his teeth, glaring at me with his perfect hazel eyes.

"He is fucking on the line, James. I'm still on the phone with him. He could hear."

"Like I give a flying shit, really."

"Please," my tone soothens and he rolls his eyes, scoffing.

"Please just wash the sheets before and after."

And I'm back in the kitchen faster than I ever have been.

"It's so on," I laugh into the phone. "What time?"

"Does five work? We could go out to eat, catch up."

What, catch up before we have casual sex and never speak to each other ever again? Why the hell not.

I keep my composure. Don't want craziness seeping through.

"Sounds great to me. I'll pick you up at five, then."

And when we're off the phone I'm wondering to myself if this is even worth it. Probably not.

Oh well, I still have time to figure this all out before I have to pick him up.

And then tonight I'll fall in love with him all over again. Yippee.

"And you'll clean every inch of this house, Kendall. Do you hear me? I am going to regret this, I know it, letting you do this isn't going to be easy."

James is pacing his living room in a circle, making a list of things I have to do, just so I could use his bedroom for a night.

"I get it, James. If he asks for a drink, I give him a glass and a coaster. I'm not dumb, I understand."

"You sure?"

I nod, standing. "It's fine. Maybe I'll even ask him about the conversation, if I feel risking this. Whatever we have."

"You realize you're on a totally different wavelength than I am."

Oh, I know.

I just want to get this over with.

"I'll leave, Kendall. If you want to be alone. Wait, fuck, what am I saying? This is my house."

"True."

"Kendall?"

"Yes?"

"It's already 4:30. You might as well leave."

"Thanks for everything," I say, running down the stairs to my car, hoping tonight will turn out for the better.