Guess who randomly updated because they're too excited to see BTR in FOUR DAYS?
It's me! Anyway not the point at all but then again how can I not talk about it?
Chapter 14!
"Boys."
Kendall really doesn't want to deal with four angry parents right now, especially when what happened isn't his fault at all. He didn't even want to go camping in the first place.
Logan wanted to go camping, and lucky him, he would be spared from this lecture. Which, Kendall thought, was really, really, stupid, because going camping was Logan's idea.
Kendall didn't feel great saying it or thinking it, but it was Logan's fault.
Because Kendall knew that Logan knew he couldn't walk.
Logan shouldn't have been so stupid.
And begged.
He was going to get whatever he wanted, Kendall knew that too, because everyone felt bad. Their parents all felt bad, because they all knew about Logan's breakdown over Yale.
Had they not known that, maybe one out of the five of them would've reconsidered letting Logan go on the camping trip.
One out of the four, Kendall corrects himself. Joanna doesn't really count. Ironic, since shouldn't she have the most say in this?
No, because Logan had the most say in everything. Even though his reasoning was probably impaired by now, definitely impaired by now, because what idiot who can't even walk decides to go camping?
Logan.
Kendall felt bad for him too, of course he did, but he couldn't feel bad after Logan does stupid things like that. He couldn't even feel bad when Logan was screaming at him about disinfectant, with a bloody mouth and all.
Still, he knew Logan hated hospitals, and that's probably where he was now.
"Sorry," James, Carlos, and Kendall say together.
Kendall doesn't mean it, it wasn't his fault. He didn't want to go. He didn't give in to Logan that easily.
He only gave in at all because his mother threatened to send him to a therapist to deal with his feelings and unhealthy sleep schedule and overworking himself to the point of exhaustion.
Whatever. He didn't need a therapist.
Logan needed a therapist. To screw his head back on straight. To get his brain working again.
Kendall listens halfheartedly to his mother, James's mother, Carlos's mother, and Carlos's father lecture at them.
He's not going to fight back yet, he's not going to say that Logan is absolutely stupid, and that if anyone should be lectured, it should be Logan.
He makes eye contact with Katie, who is expertly pretending not to listen, pretending to read a book in the kitchen. She turns the page.
She rolls her eyes at him. Does she seriously think this is his fault? It's not. It's Logan's.
Logan has impaired reasoning skills. But it's still his fault.
Kendall keeps his mouth shut.
In one ear, out the other.
In one ear, out the other.
It is really, really hard for Carlos to pay attention right now.
He is trying his best to listen, but it's just not going to work.
His mom and dad, and James's mom, and Mama Knight are mad at them.
And he gets that, kinda. Because Logan got hurt, and, as their parents keep reminding him, if Logan gets hurt, he could need to go to the hospital.
Actually, according to his mom, Logan and Joanna are already at the Mayo Clinic. They're only supposed to go once a month. Other times Logan gets to see a regular doctor that Carlos was told the name of, but forgot.
Today, though, Logan is at the Mayo Clinic.
Carlos knows Logan hates hospitals. Logan especially hates the Mayo Clinic.
Carlos hates when Logan goes to the Mayo Clinic too. Because when he comes back, if he gets to come back, sometimes they keep him overnight which isn't fair, Logan is all sad.
Obviously sad. Logan has gotten really good at being obviously sad. Which sucks, because nothing will cheer him up, no matter what Carlos tries, and Logan even yells at him.
Logan gets angry a lot easier now than he used to.
A lot of people get angrier now than they used to.
He has never seen both his parents look so sad, disappointed, and angry all at the same time.
James's mom looked—shaken. It was one of the only times he had seen tears in her eyes that weren't from beauty products.
And Mama Knight looked guilty.
It wasn't anyone's fault, except for the disease that Logan had. Nobody was getting mad at Logan's disease though.
Maybe they had forgotten that's why Logan begged to go camping, but that seems pretty hard to forget.
Unless you're Logan. Maybe that's why he tried to hike, because he forgot he couldn't walk.
Carlos hates this, it makes him feel sick, and he doesn't have a disease.
He wonders if Logan feels sick right now.
Sick and numb, that's what Logan told him last time Carlos asked.
Carlos didn't like that answer, so he made sure not to ask again. Not out loud.
In one ear, out the other.
In one ear, out the other.
James knows that it's not his fault. It's Kendall's.
Kendall is the leader after all, shouldn't he have been smart enough to say no? Then Logan wouldn't be hurt, or in the hospital, and this lecture wouldn't be happening.
James also knows that he is lying to himself, because he blames himself.
He agreed, easily, to Logan's plan to go camping.
But it was so hard to say no, he would've felt way worse if he said no.
Plus, it was the first time in weeks that Logan didn't look dead, that he was actually excited and determined to do something other than sit and read.
And, equally importantly, or less, it was the first time in weeks that James didn't think about screaming at Logan that one night at the Palm Woods.
It's the first time he doesn't think about the disaster that was the dinner at his father's house, the dinner he went to in order to avoid his problems, even though he had to go and face his problems anyway.
It's the first time he doesn't think about puking in that bush outside the gas station.
It's the first time he doesn't think about the band, even though he knows that picture of Logan is still circulating around, and people are asking questions that Griffin hasn't addressed.
It's the first time he felt things were mostly normal again. Really normal. Minnesota normal.
And, as usual, he had to be reminded that things were not normal. They never would be.
After all, Logan was dying. That certainly wasn't normal.
In one ear, out the other.
In one ear, out the other.
Camille can't pay attention, and this is absolutely not good. This is her workplace. She is working. She needs to focus.
And yet, she can't stop thinking on loop, about something going wrong. Something is wrong, and this is bothering her in a way she can't explain, because she has no idea what it is.
She straightens out the script in her hands. She pulls out a highlighter.
She can't focus, she can't even highlight in a straight line.
She needs to focus.
"Hey. Camille, right?"
It's the second day on set, and already the girl that asked her name is doing better than she is at remembering names.
Camille knows this girl's name. She thought she did. But her mind is occupied with other things.
No, she doesn't. Camille knows her character name, Nora. But that's not her real name, and how embarrassing would it be if she used her character name?
"I'm Gianna."
Camille knew it. She's just not thinking clearly. She needs to call Logan when she's wrapped for the day.
"Hi."
Gianna glances down at Camille's script. "Nervous for rehearsal?"
Sure. Yeah. It's only her first major role ever, and she's too preoccupied thinking about her boyfriend to work properly.
Though, she has an excuse. Logan is sick. That's a good excuse.
Not that she likes to remind herself of that too often.
"You could say that? I don't know, I'm—distracted, I guess."
Gianna nods, pulling out her own script. "I get it."
Camille didn't think she did. Gianna looked and acted like a professional.
Camille, on the other hand, was a method actress. And had too many failed auditions to count. She didn't feel professional at all.
"You don't have to highlight the whole line, you know. At least, for me it's easier to just put it in brackets."
Gianna reached for Camille's highlighter, who willingly handed it over.
Gianna took the yellow highlighter, putting Camille's line in little brackets. She highlighted Camille's character name HANNAH, as well.
"I think it'll help," she said. She put a hand on Camille's shoulder. "Don't worry about being nervous. It's only natural. And you'll do great."
She gave back the highlighter. Camille saw how she floated around set for the next few minutes. She was introducing herself to the youngest sister character, probably about fourteen years old. Character name Jane, but Camille couldn't remember her real name, even if she tried.
Then, Gianna sat down in her dressing room, door open, highlighting her lines.
Camille wanted to talk to her, she did.
But it was easier not to, for now.
Camille kept her dressing room door open as well, highlighting her lines in brackets. It was easy to let her mind wander away.
And then, even easier, to get it back to thinking in an anxious loop.
She was too distracted, her thoughts wouldn't let her focus.
She tried to highlight.
Thinking was easy not to do, after a while.
In one ear, out the other.
In one ear, out the other.
It's gotten easier as the days have gone on, for Logan to simultaneously ignore and attentively listen to whatever terrible news Dr. Jones has for him.
He doesn't have to pay attention, anyway.
He doesn't have a say in any of these decisions, he doesn't have an opinion.
It's not like he can protest, which just sends Dr. Jones on a spiel about how all he's doing is taking 'preliminary action' and really, if Logan was just compliant, each of these actions would benefit his health later on.
That has to be the worst lie he's ever heard.
Did Dr. Jones not understand the definition of neurodegenerative?
Nothing he did, none of these preliminary actions would actually benefit him when he needed it. Because all his skills, all his cognition, mobility, dignity, and life would be stripped away at that point.
Now Logan knew what to look for. He had done his research.
It didn't matter how much time he had left.
It was going to run out.
And the worst part was, by then, Logan might not even be able to understand that he was dying.
Eventually, nothing could be done, except to wait it out.
Logan really wanted to sleep. He was so tired. And sick of the braces for today.
It doesn't matter if he falls asleep, probably. Though, that might warrant more blood tests, or an overnight evaluation.
Undesirable outcomes.
So, Logan forces his eyes to stay open.
And this was the worst mistake of his life, because he sees it. He really sees it. And he can't take his eyes off it.
He shouldn't say anything, he should shut up.
But he sees it.
The sleek metal. The four wheels.
He tries, desperately, in a panic, to convince himself that it's not for him.
But it's in his hospital room. Who else would it be for?
He doesn't want it. He isn't going to touch it. Nobody can make him do anything if he doesn't move.
The sentiment of that actually almost makes him laugh, because he can't really move at all.
"I don't need that," he blurts out. "I can still walk, I don't need a walker."
He doesn't need to listen to know that Dr. Jones has gone on his 'preliminary action' spiel.
He doesn't need to look to know that Dr. Jones has left the room, maybe Nurse Danielle will take his place.
He is alone in the room with his mother.
"I can still walk," he insists. "Mom. You know that."
He needs to calm down. He'll be forced to stay overnight. Because his high emotions will likely result in a cataplectic episode, and he really doesn't need a bout of cataplexy right now.
He just wants to walk to the car. Walk. On his own.
Without this shiny, sleek, metal walker that makes Logan think of old people.
"Logan," she says. "It's just to help you."
He feels sick to his stomach and he wants to cry.
"I don't need help," he says. "No, I don't need help, you know that. I don't. I can still walk."
"Logan."
"I tripped! I tripped while we were camping, that's why I fell, people trip all the time!"
He is not calming down, he can't control himself, he feels his heart rate speed up, and if he cries he'll hate himself.
"I know," his mother assured him, softly. "I know."
But he can hear her push the walker over to him.
"No," he decides. "I'm not using it. I'm not helpless."
"Nobody said that, baby."
His mother thinks he's helpless, he can hear her. Her voice is soft and she's using gross terms of endearment that he couldn't tolerate at six years old, he definitely cannot tolerate it now.
"But you implied it!" he exclaimed. "Do you think I'm stupid?"
Her hands have grasped his, and she's leading him to the walker.
"Just use it for today, just to walk out of here."
He shook his head, but she's stronger than he is, and his hands are secured around the walker.
"You don't have to use it after this," she promised. "Not if you don't want to."
"Please stop talking."
He doesn't care if she talks or not, he can still here the smooth rolling of the wheels of the walker, and his uneven, unsteady footsteps.
In one ear, out the other.