Logan

Chapter 4

Gemma led Logan through the cafeteria's double doors and pauses for him to catch up.

"So where'd you come from Logan?"

A bit taken aback by her bluntness, it takes him a second to know how to answer. In that time she speaks again.

"I'm sorry, that may have been rude. I've been told I'm a bit forward. What I meant was, where did you move from?" She resumes her trek to History.

"It's okay," he keeps up in stride, "I was in Lancaster before, but not very long. Before that it was Springfield."

"Oh. Why do you move so much?"

It was a perfectly innocent question. One that, in the past, he had answered a lot of ways. He could lie. Say his dad moved a lot for work. Sometimes people didn't ask for more than that. He could be vague. Tell her that his living situation just hadn't worked out. That was true enough.

But Logan didn't tell Gemma Lewis any of that. Instead he set his jaw and answered, "I'm a foster kid. I move cause they place me in new homes when I'm kicked out of the last one." Almost instantly a sort of weight lifted off his shoulders. He had never tried the truth before. It was extremely freeing, if not also terrifying. He knew what other people thought of foster kids. And Logan also knew that caring about other's opinions of him had landed him in trouble more than a few times.

"Okay." Gemma said. She didn't falter in pace, unfazed by his revelation. It was a reaction Logan didn't know what to make of. He at least expected her to have questions.

Logan's mind reeled. Maybe it had been a mistake. Everyone here knowing where he came from could make things more complicated. And complications were not what he needed if he still intended on Gretta Mayfield High School being the one he graduated from. He puts a gentle hand on her forearm, stopping their progress down the hallway.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I don't know if I should have told you that." He searches her face, "Is it possible it could stay just between us? I think it would be easier that way."

"Of course," She cautiously looks around the busy hallway, "I don't think anyone else heard us, but I would never tell something personal like that. It's your business who you tell your business to. But Logan," She meets his eyes then, with an earnest look, "You have nothing to be ashamed of, okay?"

He heaves a deep sigh. "I'm not sure that's entirely true, but thank you Gemma. It means a lot."

With that she walks the few feet further to room 221. Stopping beside the door she turns to give him the brightest grin yet.

"You know what? I think we've just become best friends."

His eyebrows shoot up, "Oh have we?"

"Yep. Secrets are for friends, but I don't do anything halfway. I'll get started on our friendship bracelets promptly."

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The levity from the prospect of friendship quickly faded as they entered the classroom. Gemma went to her desk and Logan turned to look for the teacher.

"I don't know you, I think you have the wrong class." Was the first sentence out of Ms. Johnston's mouth.

"Uh, no ma'am. I'm new, my name is Logan. Is this room 221?" Thrown by her greeting Logan reaches into his pocket to consult his schedule. It was possible Gemma had gotten the class periods wrong.

"Obviously there's been some kind of misunderstanding, this class is full." She puts one hand on her hip, "I don't know how they expect me to teach this many kids at once."

"I'm sorry ma'am." Logan didn't know what to do. In all his first days and all his new classes he had never had a teacher tell him he couldn't join their class.

"Ms. Johnston," Gemma's voice suddenly speaks out, "Do you think maybe just for today he could sit in this class? He probably won't be able to get a new schedule until tomorrow."

She makes a face, "You're right. Non one in the office knows what they're doing." Turning back to Logan she says, "I'll keep you for today, but you need to see about getting a different class for tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am. Thank you."

"Sit down." And with that she takes a seat at her desk. Logan locates an empty one and does the same.

He makes eye contact with Gemma, mouthing a thanks, before turning back to the front. No one could complain about History being boring today.