Logan stumbled as Derek clapped him in the back and headed in the opposite direction, back to his girlfriend’s house where the party was in full swing. Derek was laughing loudly as he yelled over his shoulder.
Derek always was a happy and loud drunk.
Logan shook his head, enjoying the cool night air against his flushed skin.
He fished for his keys as he approached his car and blinked.
A slender brunette was leaning against the hood and was taking a long drag from a cigarette, letting it dangle from his fingers as he turned to face Logan.
Logan raised his eyebrows. “Get off my car.”
He looked him up and down, a smirk on his lips as he flicked the ashes at Logan’s feet. His dark eyes glinted mischievously as he cocked an eyebrow. “Or what?”
Logan impatiently tapped his keys against his jeans, wanting to get away from the party and back to Dalton. “Do you really want to go there?”
Logan easily towered over him and their eyes locked as something passed over the stranger’s face as he threw the cigarette onto the ground and slid his boot over it. He shoved his hands into his tight, dark jeans’ pockets and sneered.
“I’ve taken worse, you shouldn’t be a problem.”
He set his mouth in a grim line, instantly looking regretful, in a way that actually made Logan wish he could take back what he said.
There was something about the boy in front of Logan, the way he met Logan’s gaze, not at all fazed by the devastating pair of bright green eyes, which made Logan…interested.
And very few people caught his attention.
“What are you staring at?”
Logan snapped out of his thoughts and the boy was glaring at Logan. Logan eyed him with a curious look in his eyes, he seemed so familiar, why couldn’t he put a finger on it?
His glare changed back to bright, smiling eyes as he smirked knowingly, getting off of Logan’s car. With a terribly amused look on his face he brushed past Logan, his leather jacket ruffling his white button down.
He winked. “Whoever you want me to be.”
With a lazy saunter he disappeared down the dark road, his smirk still etched in Logan’s mind.
Logan nearly jumped as Mr. O’ Nealy yelled his name, storming down the aisle between the desks.
“Yes?” Logan asked with a bored glance at his fingernails.
“Would you like to explain to the class about how a person can develop depression?”
Logan’s eyes flicked to the front of the room, the slideshow about clinical depression just wrapped up.
“No.” Logan slid out of his seat and calmly brushed his impeccably smooth Dalton blazer of nonexistent lint. He repressed a laugh as Mr. O’ Nealy’s face turned purple.
“I take a single step out that door I will be neutered with a rusty scalpel.” He opened the door, his books in his hands as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know.”
He walked down the hall as the door swung shut, a loud yell of aggravation from his teacher echoing into the hall.
Psychology was useless to him.
Logan flipped through his Calculus book, sipping his coffee as Derek slammed his lunch tray on the table in front of him.
“You stormed out of Psychology?” Derek groaned as Logan gave him an almost imperceptible nod. “Again?!”
Logan raised his eyebrows.
“What are they going to do? Expel the Senator’s on for leaving a class that technically isn’t even required?”
Derek grumbled as he ran a hand through his light brown hair. He set a small plastic bottle directly in front of Logan.
Logan moved to unscrew the top just as a group of Windsors blundered into the cafeteria. Kurt was grinning and talking to Blaine, their hands linked together.
Like the happy couple they were.
Logan could never bring that kind of happiness to Kurt.
Logan closed his eyes and tried to clear his head of the sudden influx of blurred thoughts.
He had said he would try to leave him alone.
He just needed to start by getting his mind off of him, damn it.
Logan opened his eyes; he looked pained as he set the bottle back on the table.
They wouldn’t do him any good.
“I need to get out of here.”
Logan muttered and he stood up.
“Get my essay to Murdoch, will you?”
He didn’t even wait for Derek to answer as he all but ran out of the cafeteria.
Mindlessly driving down random roads and winding through empty parking lots.
As if he could possibly get those bright blue eyes out of his head.
Everything he did was for Kurt.
Even trying to forget his feelings for him.
He would never see him like he saw Blaine.
He absentmindedly pulled into an empty gas station.
It was better than feeling nothing, right?
“Shit.” He pulled off his loose tie and threw it on the passenger seat along with his blazer. “I’m in the middle of fucking no where.”
He slowly got out of his car, searching for a familiar street sign.
He sighed and reached for his wallet in his empty pocket.
…You’ve got to be kidding.
Logan looked over his shoulder as a group of guys walked over, scowls on their faces. Logan warily spun around.
“What does it matter to you?
Suddenly a motorcycle sped from the road right up next to Logan. The rider wore boots, skin tight jeans and a leather jacket over a white v-neck. They flipped up the visor on the helmet and a pair of gold-brown eyes pierced Logan’s.
“They’re just trying to help, you know.”
A smile tugged at the corners of Logan’s lips as he recognized their voice.
He pulled off his helmet and winked at Logan. “Hey, you.”
“Whoever you want me to be…”
“Hey yourself, what are you doing here?”
He held up an empty box of cigarettes and nodded towards the car garage and ramshackle store. “I’m out.” He took in the sight of Logan’s Ferrari Spyder and asked. “What are you doing here?”
“What does it look like?” Logan scoffed, gesturing towards the gas pump.
“…It looks like you’re lost.”
“Yeah, that’s what we thought.”
A sculpted guy in a white tank with oil stained hands stepped forward, gloves stuck out of his jean pockets. He gave Logan a wolfish grin and shook out his thick black curls.
Logan smiled just as coldly. “Thanks.”
The brunette rolled his eyes and held up a twenty dollar bill as the curly haired mechanic threw him a paper bag.
Logan crossed his arms just as he felt water hit his neck. He hadn’t even realized it was so cloudy.
“By the way,” Ramirez flashed Logan a smile. “The gas pumps are empty; it’s all behind the garage.”
“Great.” He wiped water out of his eyes. It wasn’t raining buckets, just a nice downpour. It felt fantastic.
He pulled out his phone and cursed. There were twenty one new texts from Derek. His train of thought was interrupted as a cry of joy rang out over the rhythmic downfall of the light rain.
That motorcyclist had his arms thrown open wide, laughing as the fresh rain ran down his skin.
Ramirez snorted and shook his head. “I’m not going to prance around in the rain with you!”
“Your loss!” He shrugged and pointed towards Logan. “You there, guy I don’t know,” He ran towards them and grinned like a mad man, “You’re prancing around in the rain with me.” He flipped Ramirez off and Ramirez laughed as he suddenly pulled Logan away from his car.
He slipped his hand into Logan’s and spun him around, his delighted laughter ringing in Logan’s ears.
Logan could only stare as the stranger turned to face him, water running down from his hair onto his neck and onto his chest where his thin white shirt clung to him like a second skin.
Who the hell is this guy?
“Hey!” Ramirez waved his arms and called out. “Gas costs money!”
Logan quickly looked over his shoulder at Ramirez and then back to the boy in front of him, who gave him a challenging look, his brown eyes flicking towards his motorcycle and back to Logan.
“You know what,” Logan held up his keys and threw them to a stunned Ramirez. “You like my car, right?”
He dumbly nodded and Logan grinned. “It’s yours now, man.”
“Giving away your Ferrari? Are you insane?”
“I don’t have my wallet and it’s just a car, besides,” He grinned. “It pisses my Dad off.”
“So, the Wright family isn’t as peaceful as it seems.”
He smirked as surprise crossed Logan’s handsome features.
“Looks like you’re stuck here then.”
“Not if I can help it!” Logan felt a tug on his hand and a helmet was shoved on his head by the boy, whose name he still didn’t know. “I’m not going to stand around when there’s a damsel in need of my help!”
Logan sputtered as he caught a leather jacket from a laughing Ramirez.
Jesus, do these people ever stop laughing or smiling?
“So, your majesty,” He had a helmet on now and gave Logan a flourishing bow, his eyes had crinkles at the edge from smiling as he spoke. “Where to?”
“I can’t believe I’m not driving.”
“First of all, nobody drives this but me. And besides pretty boy, do you even know how to drive a motorcycle?”
Logan grumbled and begrudgingly wrapped his arms around his waist, his back pressed against his chest.
Logan could feel him smirking as they sped down the road, it was no longer raining, but their clothes were sticking to them and he could feel his warm skin as his hands were pressed against his hips.
“You know, I didn’t take the senator’s son to be the type to jump on the back of a motorcycle with a stranger.”
“You’d be surprised at what the senator’s son has done.”
“Oh really?” His tone playful and teasing as they gained speed and the trees were almost a blur.
Logan smiled and allowed himself to relax as the wind whipped against his skin.
It had been a while since he felt this…free.
Logan reluctantly pulled away from him and sat back, staring at the iron wrought gates. The buildings obscured by the dark evening.
“Yeah-what?-scared of prep school boys, princess?”
He shook his hair as he pulled off his helmet and gave Logan an annoyed look.
“Hardly, why the hell were you all the way in Lima? Were you trying to drive yourself off a cliff?”
“There aren’t cliffs in Ohio.” Logan rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets, ignoring his question.
“Will I ever see you again?”
Logan blurted out, cutting him off and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. He laughed as he extended a hand and took Logan’s chin in his hand. Making Logan’s heart jump to his throat.
“For your sake, I hope not.”
He dropped his hand and smirked, immediately taking off, leaving the sound of the revving engine echoing in Logan’s ears as he stared at his retreating figure.
Maybe…Maybe he could stop thinking about Kurt.
