Well I stuck to my promise, got it up on Monday :)
As everyone should already know, I'm super angsty about my grammatical ability, so again, I apologise for mistakes.
I hope everyone likes it, and if you don't then I honestly don't know why you're still reading after two chapters...
Anyways, enjoy :D
Chapter Three
Logan shouldered his way in through the school's main doors, pausing for a moment to watch as groups of students milled around the hall, either grouped by lockers or wandering in chattering gaggles. His eyes flickered between groups as he headed towards his locker, wondering what it'd be like to be a part of one of them; the brunette smiled bitterly to himself. He guessed he'd never know.
"Hey, Logan!"
Logan froze at the sound of the all too familiar voice, a voice that had only ever spoken his name once before, a voice he wasn't ready to face again. He could see Carlos in the distance, mingling among a large group of people Logan didn't know the names of.
All watched in open-mouthed surprise as Carlos drifted from their ranks and headed towards the pale skinned boy, a couple of textbooks clutched to the Latino's chest. Logan's mind clouded over as the Carlos drew nearer, stopped once or twice by a friend, only to have Carlos brush them off, eyes focused on Logan all the while. Logan tried desperately to compose himself mentally, but Carlos was upon him before he could set his thoughts straight.
"Hey, Logan" he repeated, more quiet this time, a smile that set Logan's heart knocking against his ribcage gracing his chiselled face.
"H-hi" Logan managed to splutter out, hands quaking. He desperately hoped Carlos wouldn't notice.
If he did, the shorter boy didn't mention it, "I just wanted to give you these." He held out the textbooks he'd been carrying, although to Logan it looked more like guarding. "You left them yesterday."
"T-thanks" Logan stuttered as he took the books from the Latino's hands. As Logan took them from Carlos' grasp, the boys' hands brushed, heat racing up Logan's face; Carlos dropping his head, trying to hide the smile that had grown even wider.
"Well I-I guess I'll s-see you around" muttered Logan, moving to step around Carlos.
Carlos' head shot up, reaching out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder, Logan flinched slightly, but the other boy didn't seem to notice.
"Wait, Logan I just wanted to ask, are you okay?"
Logan stared at Carlos in silence, to distracted by the warmth of the hand on his shoulder to form a coherent answer.
The Latino stared into Logan's eyes, waiting for an answer.
"I-I…" Logan didn't know what to say.
Before Carlos could object, Logan darted away, quickly lost in the crowd of teens that had begun to fill the halls, the bell signalling for class having rung.
Carlos stood facing the empty space Logan had occupied only moments ago; Logan's failure to answer the question had only deepened Carlos' concern.
He couldn't wait for the maths test to come quick enough.
Logan hurried away from Carlos, not daring to look back. He didn't know what had come over him; he just found he couldn't lie to the Latino, when he went to say the words they only froze in his throat, refusing to leave his mouth. As Logan reached his locker he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, his muscles freezing up at the feel of it. No one ever texted him, sometimes Logan asked himself why he even had a phone and only one possible suspect rose to mind.
Carlos isn't the only one who saw your scars.
The brunette opened his locker and dumped his books and bag inside, closing it with a slam and fishing his phone from his jean pocket, palms slick with sweat. Logan hadn't saved the number but each digit had imprinted itself on the inside of his eyelids, he couldn't close his eyes without seeing it. Logan was right; it was from the same person.
If you want to keep those scars to yourself then I suggest that you meet me in the gymnasium after school, I'd like to have a little chat.
Logan's mouth went dry and his stomach wrung itself in tight knots. He could feel himself falling apart. Logan stumbled into the nearby bathroom, gripping the edge of one of the basins so hard his knuckles turned a deathly white. He looked up at his reflection, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall.
"Logan, please get a grip on yourself; everything is going to be okay."
The lie was frail, and Logan couldn't get himself to believe it for a moment. His home life was already broken and shattered and now the same thing was happening to him at school. It wasn't enough that he had no friends, that everyone pretended he didn't exist. There had to be someone who seemed to have some personal vendetta against him.
Logan drew in heavy, laboured breaths, he'd scrape by; he always managed to. He hadn't the faintest idea of what to do, the idea of meeting this mystery person alone was frightening, Logan couldn't help but feel that the messages had a threatening air about them; this person seemed to what something from him. He rested his forehead against the cool of the mirror's glass, desperate for the ground to open its primal jaws and swallow him whole, to just disappear; its not like anyone would miss him. Logan quickly brushed at his eyes and readjusted his plaid shirt, wishing, although somewhat regretfully, that Carlos had never run into him.
Carlos was positively giddy with excitement, something he'd never thought he'd feel as he walked into math class.
Everyone else had already taken his or her seats, Carlos spying Logan near the back, staring off into space. The Latino found himself briefly wishing he sat behind Logan, so he had something to keep himself occupied during class. Carlos couldn't help but frown to himself; this was about helping Logan, nothing else. He just wanted to befriend the brunette, help him get through what ever he was going through right? Doubt was beginning to niggle on the outskirts of Carlos' mind, something told him his feelings were too strong for just simple friendship. He pushed those thoughts away as he took a seat, locking away the confusion that surrounded them, all he needed to do was concentrate on failing. The Latino smiled to himself, yes that's what he needed to do, concentrate on failing. The whimsical thought allowed for a quiet chuckle to leave Carlos' lips, he was going to have fun with this.
Mrs Martin cleared her throat, beginning to distribute the test papers, "you all should know the drill by now, no speaking and no borrowing other people's materials. You have seventy minutes, you may begin."
Carlos eagerly grabbed a pen and jotted down his name where it was asked; he realised with an even wider smile that that was probably the only thing he was going to get right on this test. The first page of the test was filled with linear equations, Carlos attacked the blank spaces with random numbers and figures, even inserting a few letters he doubted were appropriate. The next lot of questions were in relation to some kind of algebra Carlos had never seen before, although he knew he'd just not been listening when Mrs Martin had given a lesson on it.
Twenty minutes later Carlos let out a contented sigh and dropped his pen on the desk, watching as it rolled away towards the edge before he snatched it again. Carlos flicked through the test paper just to make sure all the answers looked wrong enough, he hoped this would work. He pulled at the sleeves of his sweater and leant back on his chair, staring up at the clock, watching as the second hand made its endless journey around the clock's face.
Now all he had to do was wait.
"You did what?" James asked, his mouth dropping open in surprise.
"Yep, I failed the maths test on purpose." Answered Carlos, smiling proudly.
"But for good reason" interjected Camille, who had a brick of a book open before her, flicking through the pages with disinterest. The three were in history, working on the group assignment Mr Billings had given them.
"And what reason would be good enough to go and purposely fail a test?" James stared at the two of them, tapping his fingers against the desk.
"Its all part of our brilliantly thought out plan" grinned Camille, "so Carlos can get closer to Logan."
James turned to glare at the stocky Latino, who seemed to wither under his taller friend's gaze.
"Carlos are you really going as far as to fail a test just to 'help' someone you don't know?"
Carlos nodded, a smile creeping back onto his face.
Camille flipped her hair over her shoulder, "well I think its great that Carlos is so determined, no matter what the reason."
James quirked an eyebrow at the statement, turning to look a Carlos, "she doesn't know about the stripes does she?" he asked.
Carlos glared at him, "hey that was uncalled for, and know, she doesn't."
"The stripes?" Camille looked between the two of them, confusion lacing her features.
"He means the reason I'm trying to help Logan," sighed Carlos, staring down at his blank brainstorming page.
"Oh, stripes…" Camille said quietly, a dark realisation dawning upon her, "wow Carlos, its good that you're trying to help."
"No its not!" replied James, cutting off Carlos before he had the chance to speak, "its not good at all."
"James why are you so opposed to this?" asked Carlos, hands curling into fists.
"Because like I told you Carlos, it'll only get messy, you really want to shoulder that big cloud of angst he carries around with him?"
"If I was in that situation I'd want someone to help" provided Camille, shutting the book that lay before her.
"Yeah," said Carlos, thankful for the support, "I bet he wants help James, he just doesn't have anyone to turn to, I don't' see what's so bad about being there for him."
James scowled at him. "Well if you care that much why don't you just go and sit with him then, be forward."
"That's a good idea…" said Camille, a smile tugging at her lips, plan formulating within her scheming mind.
"Carlos you can go sit with him at lunch today, seeing as he sits alone everyday, and James you can go with him, just so its more causal." She was grinning when she finished speaking.
"But-" James began, weakly searching for a retort.
"Don't worry James, I'll tell Kendall and Lucy and the others that you and Carlos have assignments or something, they'll understand." Camille left no room for argument, James had no choice.
"But-" James was still groping for something to say.
"Great idea Camille" smiled Carlos widely, putting an arm around James' shoulders, "sounds like a plan."
James just shook his head in defeat, wishing he'd kept his mouth shut.
Logan sat at the empty bench in the cafeteria quietly, beginning his daily lunchtime ritual. With him he carried an apple, red skin gleaming under the harsh fluorescent light and a book, titled, Murder on the Orient Express, written by Agatha Christie. Setting them both down on the table he glanced around, watching as people rushed to and fro, taking seats at crowded benches and walking by in small groups, droning on loudly about one teenage antic or another. Logan sighed, picking up his book and opening to where he left off, getting lost in the world of Hercule Poirot.
"Not such a famous alibi," said Poirot. "The hands of the watch pointed to 1.15—the exact time when the intruder actually left the scene of the crime."
"True," said M. Bouc, a little confused. "What then does the watch convey to you?"
"If the hands were altered—I say if—then the time at which they were set must have a significance. The natural reaction would be to suspect anyone who had a reliable alibi for the time indicated—in this case, 1.15."
"Yes, yes," said the doctor. "That reasoning is good."…
A sharp cough pulled Logan out of the book; he looked up from the well-worn and crinkled pages and stifled a gasp of surprise, his stomach tying itself up again. He wondered if he'd be able to make an escape.
"Hey Logan" said Carlos with a wave and smile, plodding himself down opposite the brunette, James joined him; Logan couldn't help but notice it was done somewhat grudgingly.
He guessed escape was out of the question then.
"So what are you reading?" asked Carlos, trying to find some thread of conversation to pull. Logan simply held up the cover of the book, watching as Carlos silently formed he word with his lips, Logan hid the smile that crept up his face behind the novel, wondering how those lips might taste against his own.
"I've never heard of it before" said Carlos, "is it knew?"
Logan shook his head silently, his smile growing wider.
"Of course it isn't knew you idiot" said James, rolling his eyes, "its written by Agatha Christie, she died ages ago."
"Well I'm sorry" replied the Latino, turning to face the taller boy, "that I don't keep tabs on all the dead people!"
"She's a famous author, everyone knows who she is!"
"Your face is a famous author," muttered Carlos, poking out his tongue.
"I didn't know you read," said Logan, somewhat timidly, directing the question at James. The two turned back to face him, James plastering on a smile that showed off his no doubt surgically whitened teeth.
"Well you've learnt something today haven't you?"
"Don't belittle him James" said Carlos, punching his shoulder.
"Belittle?" James said, raising an eyebrow.
Carlos began to look uncertain of himself, "did I use that in the wrong way?" he asked. James let out a laugh; Logan couldn't help but laugh a little himself. For the first time in a long while Logan was actually enjoying the company of other people.
"Carlos did you look that word up before we came to lunch or something? What are you trying to do, impress Logan?"
Carlos didn't reply, only laughed awkwardly and looked down, Logan noticing a red tinge crawl up his neck.
Logan felt that same heat crawl its way up his own neck, the idea of Carlos going out of his way to impress him making Logan feel giddy.
"Carlos don't try and be smart" said James, clapping his hand on the Latino's shoulder, "it doesn't work for you."
Yay, things are progressing, sort of...
I'm thinking I'll get chapter four up on Sunday, so until then review, favourite, follow, it all makes my day better and I'll be more inclined to write ;)