Yay, chapter four!
I'm not sure how I feel about this one, I'm not really sure if I like it at all... But it had to be written, everything in this chapter is important. There is a massive lack and Carlos/Logan interaction and for that I'm deeply sorry... But fluff shall be coming soon! So much you'll probably die. In chapter six, seven, eight, maybe nine, you'll be hit with a massive wall of fluff! Oh, and this week my school timetable is being suspended so that means no classes! So I should have heaps of time to write and I hope to have chapter five, six and seven up by the end of this week, yay, progress!
I'd also like to thank everyone who've been reviewing and following, I love you all! (In that non-physical-I-know-where-you-live kind-of-way)
And a really big thank you to wittychocolate who gives me wonderfully insightful reviews and who is so helpful, he's absolutely awesome and everyone should go check out his own story, Stuck, which I'm sure you'll all love, I myself am obsessed with it ;)
Chapter Four
The reverberating sound of the bell rang through Logan's ears; the bell that signalled the end of the day; the bell that signalled; to Logan, it was time to face the mysterious and threatening perpetrator to have their 'little chat.' The brunette's legs were shaky as he headed out of his last period class, thoughts racing through his mind. What if they wanted to hurt him? What if this was some kind of big joke? What if it was Carlos? The very idea almost brought tears to his eyes; Logan didn't think he'd be able to take it, Carlos meant too much to him.
After shoving his books in his locker and waiting until the sea of students had thinned out Logan headed through the virtually empty halls towards the gymnasium, wishing that today wasn't Thursday, the only day that the gymnasium wasn't used for some form of after school sports practice. The forbidding double doors appeared in front of Logan all too quickly for his liking, daring him to go inside. He hesitated a moment, looking around the halls, devoid of any person. Taking a deep, steady breath the brunette opened the doors, listening with anticipation to the groan of the hinges.
Logan's footsteps echoed quietly as he stepped inside the empty gym; he could hear the whine of the fluorescent lights above him in the hush.
"Glad to see you could make it."
Logan turned quickly to the source of the voice, near the equipment storage shed. His mouth fell open in shock when he met the cold eyes of the culprit. He curled his lips in a thin and mocking smile.
"Weren't expecting me were you?" he asked, the mocking smile becoming taunting.
"No" said Logan, desperately trying to keep his quaking voice steady, "no, I wasn't expecting Kendall Knight"
Kendall sauntered over to where Logan stood rooted to the ground, "but…" Logan said, trying to make sense of it all.
"What? I'm supposed to be one of the nice guys?" Asked Kendall, raising his eyebrows in question, "that because I'm friends with sweet Carlos I'm supposed to be like him, that I should care about you?" His voice dripped with a provoking sarcasm.
"Well I don't," he continued, stopping a few steps before Logan. "I don't care about you Logan, but you could prove useful to me."
"W-what?" Logan asked, backing away cautiously.
"You heard me," said Kendall, closing the distance Logan made between them with a few sure strides. "You could be useful to me. I plan to become a famous hockey player, but I don't think that'll work out very well if I don't graduate from school, so you're going to be doing all my assignments for the rest of the year, so I can concentrate on finals and hockey."
He smiled down at Logan, almost innocently. Logan backed up a couple more steps, adamant to get out of the gym fast.
"And what i-if I don't?" Stuttered Logan, trying to hold his ground.
"I think you know the answer to that one Loges!" Kendall exclaimed, a chuckle escaping his lips, "I'll tell everyone about those little scars up and down your arms and about those thoughts you have about sweet, innocent Carlos."
"W-what?" asked Logan, shocked. "What do you mean, thoughts?"
"You know what I mean," answered Kendall taking a predatory step forward, "about your feelings. Don't look so shocked, its not hard to tell, I guess no one else has picked up on it because no one notices you. Well if you don't do what I want then things will change fast. You won't just be ignored, you'll probably be hated as well." He finished his words with a large grin, one that made Logan feel queasy.
"So I'll let you have a little think about that," Kendall continued, heading lithely towards the exit. "If you don't show up in the library on Monday morning then I'll let your secrets slip." He gave another smile and a quick, taunting wave before disappearing out the door.
The silence quickly became oppressive and Logan fell to the ground, cradling his knees to his chest.
He had no idea what he was going to do.
But more to the point was what could he do?
"Hey everyone, sorry I'm late!"
"Kendall where've you been? Your twenty minutes late!" Camille asked, hands on hips.
"Yeah, we were really missing you" deadpanned James, glancing up from a mirror he'd been staring into, running a comb through his hair.
"Just got held up is all" smiled Kendall, joining Lucy and Carlos on the plush couch James had pushed up against one of his beige and lilac bedroom walls.
"What've you guys been doing the entire time? Just sitting around? You should've just gone on ahead, I could have met you at the movies."
"Well we were going to but little miss Taylor insisted on waiting for you." James rolled his eyes and put the mirror down, gesturing to a flustered Jo. "I guess she just couldn't bear the thought of not having you by her side in the dark."
"Shut up James!" Jo growled, ditching a pillow at his head.
James ducked and smiled amiably, "now Jo, don't be like that."
Jo grumbled under her breath, refusing to meet anybody's eyes.
"Well…" trailed Kendall, clearing his throat; "we better get going, maybe we can catch the later screening."
Kendall was met with a chorus of agreements and as everyone began to filter out of the room Kendall caught Carlos' eyes. The Latino seemed to be distracted and he knew what his mind was plagued by. Kendall shook his head and smiled to himself, the hockey player could only wonder why the boy cared to even given someone like Logan Mitchell the time of the day; but he knew that if Logan didn't abide by his rules then he'd lose the one person that may have cared.
Kendall chuckled at the thought; Logan Mitchell was worthless.
The afternoon had all been too much. It'd brought Logan over that line, so close to the edge; he hadn't remembered when he'd picked up the razor blade; or how many times he'd dragged it across his skin; but in the teary and searing aftermath Logan sat in pain-induced clarity, trails of red blossoming along his arms; he resolved to himself that he was stronger, that he'd push through, that everything would be okay.
Only a week earlier, one measly week earlier the brunette had wondered if his life could get any worse, if something could drag him further into the darkness; those thoughts had been tempting fate and he was sorry for it.
As the sun began to sink below the horizon Logan cleaned himself up, yanking down his shirt sleeves, frustrated at himself for being so pitifully weak. Just as he was about to make a start on his homework a soft knock sounded at the door. Logan tensed; his parents never came to see him.
"Come in" said Logan quietly, completely unsure of the situation.
With a creak the door opened and his father stepped into the room; Logan bit back a whimper.
"Logan." He said, inclining his head forwards in greeting.
"Hello" answered Logan, the single word laced with uncertain fear. His father stood by the open door, staring coldly at his son.
"Dinner is down on the table, I suggest you get down there, your mother and I don't want to be kept waiting any longer."
Logan mentally slapped himself; he'd completely forgot about dinner. Dinner that the Mitchell family held at the exact same time every night, dinner, that for some reason Mrs Mitchell insisted on all family members attending before anyone ate.
Logan was surprised his father hadn't hit him yet.
The brunette sat, drowning in the apprehensive silence, watching as his parents ate their meals, seemingly unaware of the atmosphere that hung around the three of them.
"What did you do at school today Logan?" His mother asked, watching her son with expectant eyes. The question was asked every night, so obediently Logan answered in the expected manner, elaborating on his day. He knew his parents probably didn't care, but it had become some kind of traditional formality that they all must abide by.
"Just a normal Thursday," Logan began tentatively, swirling his food around with the pristinely polished fork held in his hand. "I had a maths test, we're doing a book review in English and Mr Petersen mentioned an assignment he'll be giving us tomorrow in media."
Logan's mother nodded absently in reply, his father gave no clue as to whether he'd even been listening.
"And what about your friends?" she questioned, stabbing a slice of cucumber with her fork, "how are they?"
"Oh my friends? They're good, good…" Logan trailed off and stared down at his plate, food left mostly untouched; he found he hadn't had much of an appetite lately. For as long as he could remember he'd lied to his parents about school, he pretended that he had an abundance of friends and that he wasn't pariah.
Logan hoped with all his heart that after what happened at lunch today that maybe he wouldn't have to keep lying about friends.
The conversation reached an abrupt end, faltering back into that tense silence. Logan wondered why his mother insisted on this; maybe it was just to torment him.
"Joanna, the boy is lying, he doesn't have any friends, just take a look at him would you?"
Logan's face twisted in surprise at his father's words. This same routine conversation had been going on for years and never before had he uttered a word to contribute to it.
"Who'd want to hang around him anyway" he continued, pointing an accusing finger at Logan, "he's a nerd, he's weak, he's can't stand his ground and he's a bloody fairy!"
Mr Mitchell slammed a fist down on the table, plates, cutlery and crystal shaking precariously from the force of the blow. Logan hung his head in shame. Everything his father had said, everything he'd accused his son of was true. But Logan couldn't allow himself to sit by and take it, he hated that his father was correct, he couldn't stop himself from speaking the words and he regretted them the moment they left his mouth.
"You're a liar."
He felt his parents eyes turn to stare at him, anger and rage rolling off his father in waves.
"What did you say to me" Mr Mitchell said, his voice barely above a whisper, full of fury.
"I said," Logan repeated, louder this time, "that you're a liar." He didn't know what was wrong with him, the words were just tumbling out of his mouth, he had absolutely no control over what he was saying.
Mr Mitchell let out a low growl, Logan choosing that moment to stand up and leave the room. He heard the scrape of his father's chair as he followed.
"You get back here right now you bastard!"
Logan turned to face his father, legs shaking. He had to prove his father wrong.
"Stay away from me!" he shouted, "You're the bastard, you're worthless and a pathetic excuse for a parent, I hope you rot in hell; its where you belong."
He finished in a whisper, turning and dashing up the stairs before his father had fully comprehended what his son had said. Reaching his room Logan slammed the door and locked it, taking in heavy, panting breaths.
He'd done something stupid. He'd never provoked his father like that and now that he had; he knew that a storm would be coming.
"Yes, of course, I'll be sure to tell him that Mrs Martin, thank you so much for calling."
Carlos entered the house just as Sylvia hung up the phone.
"Carlos is that you?" she called from the living room, "come in here please, we need to speak."
"Sure!" Carlos called, being careful to sound neutral. Before entering the room his mother occupied he forced the smile off his face; he could guess what this was going to be about.
"What's up?" The Latino asked as he took a seat next to his mother on the couch.
"Carlos I just got a call from your math teacher, Mrs Martin, she's been going through the test your class sat today and said she's concerned with how you're going. The results were very poor Carlos, your worst all year, and this close to finals?"
Carlos struggled to keep that grin off his face; his plan was working, and so much faster than he thought it would.
"I'm sorry mum, I really am, what can we do?" Carlos tried his best to sound serious, Camille would be proud.
"Well Mrs Martin suggested tutoring, she wants to speak with you tomorrow after math, can you do that?"
Carlos nodded feverishly, "of course I can, I will, I promise."
"Good" Sylvia answered with a light smile, "now you go, you're late home and you probably have homework to do, go on, to your room."
Carlos groaned but complied with his mother's wishes. As he climbed the staircase the Latino let a grin break out on his features, tomorrow he'd talk with Mrs Martin and the final pieces of his plan would fall perfectly into place. Logan Mitchell would become his tutor and then maybe he'd be able to begin helping the troubled boy.
I don't blame you if you didn't like it but as I said it was necessary! Bear with me please, as promised above an abundance of Cargan fluff coming soon!
Gosh, I hope the spelling and grammar is okay. I'd feel extra bad if I made any mistakes this chapter...