Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush.

Warning: Contains slash, fluff. Kendall/Logan. (Italics = Flashback)

He Likes Me, He Likes Me Not

Logan was a natural loner. Even as a baby, as surprising as it might sound, he was always alone. From the moment his mother had given birth to him, Logan had been put in a separate room inside a large incubator because the doctor had thought he had been born with a defect—which had ended up being a false prediction; but the doctor still had been uncertain so he was left there in a huge, vacant room, alone, without no one to cradle him in their arms and whisper loving things that soon he would've understood when he grew up. He spent the nights crying softly, only receiving small company when the nurses came in to check up on him.

Overall, he'd always been the 'unique'—branded because of his impeccable intelligence—kid that avoided the rest of the world.

Actually, the last words were lies in other people's minds. Logan would love to make friends, to talk and eat lunch with, and play during recess. The only problem was that all the other kids always avoided him because of hidden reasons. He didn't want to know the reasons, though—he didn't want to get hurt. He was too sensitive to be cruelly-played with.

Logan awoke with a sluggish attire at the touch of someone's hand on his head. He pushed the covers from his body and opened his eyes, looking up at his mother with a dull frown.

"Good Morning, honey," Mrs. Mitchell said, picking up her small son, and holding him in her arms.

"Mom, let me go. I'm a big kid," said Logan with a tired voice, writhing in his mother's hold.

Mrs. Mitchell giggled. "That's right! In three months you'll be one of the leaders of your school since you'll be going into fifth grade!"

"Don't you mean I'll be one of the Secluded?" mumbled Logan as he was set down back on his bed.

His mother looked down at him with worried eyes. "Logan, please. Today is the last day of school, and–"

Logan interrupted, "Don't you mean the last day of social prison?"

Truthfully, he adored going to school; he loved all the new topics his teachers taught him every day, but he just hated that he was alone for the whole school day. During classes, he would be the only one sitting at the front, and the other kids would be sitting in the back of the class; during lunch, no one dared to sit with him. If it wasn't for the teachers praising him every minute, he would have ran away already—or, to put it in less severe terms, he would have just skipped school.

Mrs. Mitchell crouched down to his level and gave Logan a hopeful smile. "Miracles can happen in the last day. Who knows, maybe you might make a new friend."

"Right." Logan rolled his eyes.

He stomped into his bathroom, and closed the door. Mrs. Mitchell sighed, and exited the young boy's room.

Thirty minutes later, after taking a shower, getting dressed in the clothes his mom had laid out for him the day before, eating breakfast and saying goodbye to his parents, Logan walked unenthusiastically towards the bus stop. There were other kids there—thee girls and four boys—and when they saw him coming they stopped their conversations and looked away. Logan looked down at the concrete, feeling his heart sink.

"Mom was wrong," he thought, and sighed to himself.

Minutes later, the school bus arrived and pulled to a stop. The kids got in, Logan being the last in entering. He looked around, seeing that it was vacant, except for the boys and girls that had just climbed aboard; nonetheless, it felt like any ordinary day for Logan. Since he had the first stop, he could have the chance to sit anywhere, but he always decided to sit in the front right seat. It was not until the last bus stop that the bus was full and noisy with voices.

The bus was completely full, yet Logan still sat alone. That is, until a small boy who was wearing a helmet came in. He looked around, disappointed that every seat was taken—mostly because it was the last day of school, and every kid was present—but then noticed the right front seat. Without asking, the helmet-wearing boy sat on the edge of the seat, as if he was trying to avoid Logan, fearing he might have 'cooties'. Oddly, on the way towards school, the small boy scooted closer, but Logan didn't seem to notice—he was too busy looking out the window.

"How come you're always sitting alone?" asked the small boy.

Logan's head turned slowly, and looked at the boy who had just spoken to him with a neutral look, the emotion of surprise abandoned. "Are you really that ignorant?" he snapped out.

The boy's face twisted into a look of puzzlement. "Ignorant? What does that mean?"

Upon hearing the word in his own ears, Logan felt a pang of guilt in his chest. People avoided him for enough unknown reasons; he didn't want this one to be an obvious one. "Because I like being alone?"

"Huh?"

"I answered your question." Logan gave a small smile.

"Oh." The boy's eyes flickered down then up back to Logan. "What's your name?"

The question left Logan in a brief state of shock. "Logan," he answered, blinking.

The boy smiled. "I'm Carlos."

They didn't speak for the rest of the ride—just secretly wondered about each other.

The bus soon arrived at their school and all the kids got out, Carlos and Logan going their separate ways.

Logan entered the school building, quiet as always, and headed towards his classroom. He was grateful that the teacher always arrived early. As he walked in the small halls, all the kids turned their backs to him and Logan felt his spirit sink again. Finally, he reached his class and opened the door, entering silently. Surprisingly, instead of the teacher, he spotted a boy sitting in the back corner. He quickly looked away and made his way to his seat, sitting down, putting his backpack on the floor.

"Hey, person!"

Logan looked back and noticed that the boy from the corner was looking at him with raised eyebrows. His hair was a dark brown and girlish-like since it had been grown down to his neck.

"What?"

"Can you help me with this? I need to finish it before school ends!" pleaded the brunette.

Reluctantly, Logan stood up from his seat and walked very slowly to the back corner where the boy was. "What…do you need help with?"

The brunette looked down at a white sheet that was on his desk with a worried look. "I don't understand this. You're smart, right?"

Logan didn't answer, and instead grabbed the paper. He looked at it, spotting a bunch of numbers with multiplying and dividing signs and added work that had been, evidently, written with red pen. He took another good look at it, narrowing his eyes. "These are all right…"

The brunette's eyes brightened. "Really?" The spark then dimmed down. "I need help with the last one, please."

Logan put the sheet back on the table. "Twenty dived by zero–"

"Yeah! I tried it on my calculator but it didn't give me an answer. I think it's broken."

Delighted by the comment, Logan shook his head and giggled. "Your calculator isn't broken." He almost said 'It's your brain' but he avoided blurting out snippy comments. He'd been having luck today. Not good luck, but just social luck. First that helmet boy that had ridden with him in the bus, then this one. It made him feel…nice. "You can't divide by zero. It's impossible."

The brunette's mouth opened, giving Logan a dumbfounded look. "You can't?"

"Nope. The answer is undefined."

"Oh! Okay, thanks!" He smiled. "You just saved me from going to summer school. What's your name?"

That question again? "Logan."

"I'm James." The brunette grinned. "You're pretty cool, Logan! I can't believe I never talked to you. I always thought you were those kind of people who, like, were quiet and evil, you know?"

Logan smiled for the second time today, and gave a small nod. He turned around on his heels and went back to sit on his chair.

ooo

Lunch had just ended five minutes ago, and all the kids were now outside in the play area. Some of them were playing tag or hide and seek, and even the famous Simon Says. For Logan, it was different—every day, during recess, he always spent hiding in places so as not to make other kids uncomfortable during their fun time. Today, he was sitting in a small, plastic house that had a tiny round window, giving him a clear view of a group of girls.

The girls were giggling as they turned their heads. Logan followed the direction they were looking at, and spotted a familiar person. There was a boy with blonde hair, talking with the boy—Carlos, was it?—from the bus. Logan recognized the blonde as one of the Dirt Hockey players. Since there wasn't a special hockey arena in the school, the dirt was another difficult alternate. The girls continued to giggle, and Logan strained his hearing to listen to their intimate conversation.

"He looked this way!" said a girl with long black hair.

"He's so cute!" exclaimed another with light brown hair.

One girl, with blonde hair that ran in curvy waves down to her shoulders, smiled and held up a flower decorated with small, white petals. "He's going to like me!" The girl grinned and began picking the petals off the flower, chanting a difference sentence for each petal that was plucked off. "He likes me, he likes me not, he likes me, he likes me not, he likes me, he likes me not, he likes me, he likes me not, he likes me…" She slowed down once three petals were left. "He likes me not…" That was one. "He likes me…" That was two. "He likes me…not." That was three.

Heartbroken looks crossed over the girls' faces, especially the blonde's one. They all sighed, and patted the girl on the back and went back inside the school building, probably tortured by the image of their crush and they couldn't bear to see him. Logan looked back at the blonde boy. The girls were right. He was pretty cute. Logan gulped, his cheeks growing hot. He did not just think that. He knew for his age that boys liked girls, not boys.

"B-but he is cute, like those girls said," he whispered to himself.

He got out of the small house and looked around, desperately trying to look for a flower. He found a light-blue one that had a few petals, and he gently picked it out of the grass. Sitting on the ground, he began tweaking the few petals off, copying the blonde girl's previous movements. "H-he likes me, he likes me not, he likes me, he likes me not, he likes me…" There were two petals left. "He likes me not." That was one. "He likes me." That was two.

Logan's heart began to beat furiously as the last petal floated down to the grass.

"Hey, Logan!"

Logan looked away from the naked flower in his hand, throwing it to the ground, and saw Carlos running towards him, still wearing that helmet. He recognized the boy from his morning class—James—as he ran next to Carlos. Behind them, Logan could barely spot the blonde boy.

Carlos put his hands on his knees, trying to regain his breath. Once he did, he straightened himself up and smiled at Logan. "What's up! Remember me? From the bus! Oh! And this is–"

"James. Hi," said Logan.

Both Carlos and James grinned. Suddenly, someone cleared their throat. The blonde boy stepped in front, next to James, and smiled at Logan.

"Hi, I'm Kendall. I've…seen you around! But you never talk."

"Because I like being alone," answered Logan with the same sentence he'd told Carlos earlier, trying his hardest not to blush.

At least, he thought he liked being alone. He suddenly seemed to enjoy James and Carlos' company—and Kendall's, too.

"Hey! Carlos! James! Kendall! We're ready for the game!" someone yelled.

"Yay! Oh, you can come, too, Logan!" said Carlos, smiling broadly.

Logan shifted, feeling a bit uneasy all of a sudden."Um–"

"S'alright, you can join us when you're ready. I'll talk to you later!" Carlos left to join the boys that had previously called his name.

"Bye, Logan!" said James, and followed Carlos.

"You're not going to join them?" Logan asked Kendall.

Kendall grinned. "Maybe later. How come I'm only meeting you in the last day of school?"

Mrs. Mitchell's words suddenly popped into Logan's head. Who knows, maybe you might make a new friend.

He bit his lip. "It's weird how it works, right?"

Kendall furrowed his eyebrows. "How what works?"

"F-friends…" whispered Logan.

It felt strange saying that word, but the minute he had talked to Carlos and James he had felt the Solitary patch on his heart begin to peel away. And upon meeting Kendall, the patch had abruptly been removed, letting Logan out of his solitary confinement. He felt worried, though. He might consider them new friends but he didn't know what they thought of him. Carlos had been nice enough to talk to him, James had appreciated him and told him he was cool, and Kendall—he was plain nice, and just the thought of the blonde not trying to avoid him and instead approach him with such a friendly appearance made Logan smile inside.

Yet, he immediately began to regret what he had just said. He wasn't a mind-reader; he didn't know what Kendall was thinking. He waited in cringing fear for Kendall's words of rejection.

"You're right!" exclaimed Kendall happily.

Logan looked at the blonde in disbelief. "What?"

Kendall snickered, then his cheeks suddenly were coloured a light pink. "I've always wanted to be your friend. But you looked like you were going to stab someone because, like, you know. You're always with no one."

Logan giggled, amused by Kendall's words. "Really?"

"Yeah! But I'm talking to you right now, and you don't have that scary look on your face–"

"What scary look?" questioned Logan, the corners of his lips turning downward.

"Well, when I see you, you look kind of sad and weird." Logan nodded and sighed. "A-ah, I'm sorry, I didn't mean–"

"No, I understand." Logan looked as if he was about to cry.

Kendall bit his lip. Slowly, he leaned in and gave Logan a quick kiss on the lips. Both their faces went strawberry red.

"Wh-why did you do that?" stuttered Logan, yet inside his heart was fluttering wildly, bursting with an unfamiliar feeling of joy.

Kendall bowed his head and then looked at Logan, slightly embarrassed. "My dad used to do that to my mom when she would feel sad."

"Used to?" wondered Logan.

Now Kendall was the one that looked like he was about to cry. "H-he died three years ago…" Tears began spilling from his eyes, and he sniffed.

Now it was Logan's turn to lean in, and peck Kendall on the lips. Kendall looked up and gave a gloomy smile, wiping away the tears with the back of his hand. Logan smiled back.

"Thanks. Y-you want to play Dirt Hockey with us?" asked Kendall, standing up.

Logan grinned, for once in his life feeling very happy. "Yep!"

They intertwined their fingers and ran towards James and Carlos, who were already coming up with a strategy on how to beat the other team.

ooo

Minutes after the last bell rang, Kendall, Logan, James and Carlos all met outside of the school building.

"We should go to the hockey arena this Saturday!" shouted Carlos, jumping all around like a hyper nine year old kid—which he was.

"Saturday?" asked Logan. "But that's–" He stopped himself, realizing that he was being invited—as a friend. He smiled wide and answered, "Okay!"

"Aw, but I don't want to get helmet hair!" whined James.

"But helmet hair is cool!" said Carlos, tapping his glossy, black helmet.

Kendall and Logan laughed as Carlos kept trying to persuade James into thinking helmet hair was cool. Kendall looked at Logan from the corner of his eye and smiled at him. Logan smiled back as he, hesitantly, reached and held Kendall's hand. He likes me, he likes me not.

"I…like…Kendall…" whispered Logan to himself.

Okay, he wasn't sure, but he was pretty convinced that he did like Kendall more than any girl he had liked in the past year—girls who would ignore him whenever he would try to sit next to them during class. He didn't know if Kendall felt the same; after all, they were still kids and Logan felt enough weirded out when he would see what the big, big kids did in public with the ones they liked.

"What did you say?" Kendall had seemed to hear, and Logan just stood frozen. Then Kendall smiled. "I like you, too!" And he quickly kissed Logan's cheek right when Carlos took off his helmet and forced it on James' head.

As James began screaming and Carlos giggled maniacally, holding his stomach when laughing too hard had made pain creep up his ribs, Logan blushed and smiled shyly at Kendall.

It was puppy love, but hey, it was adorable.

Logan's mother had been right. Miracles can happen in the last day. Logan made a mind-note to himself to thank his mom when he got home. Privately, he decided that this was the best last-day-of-school day ever; better than the others he had had in the past. And just the thought of having new and possibly best friends like James, Carlos and especially Kendall made him feel like the luckiest boy on Earth.

A/N: Normally, I'm not a Kogan fan, but I was bored and just wanted to try out something new.

So, hope you enjoyed this fluffy one-shot. And I admit, fluff's not my best subject. I'll let you guys do the grading. xD