Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Logan slumped against his locker, flipping through the graded essay in his hands. A big, fat C+ was scrawled across the top in red ink.

"Next time, I’ll not ask that Cajun for help," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. Remy LeBeau had sworn he knew just enough French to help Logan get through the damn assignment. Turned out, “help” from Remy involved phrases that Logan later found out were not appropriate for an academic essay.

As he was debating whether or not to shove the paper into the deepest corner of his backpack and never look at it again, Jean Grey appeared beside him, holding a pink, well-worn notebook.

"Logan," she said, stretching his name out in that overly sweet way that immediately put him on guard.

"What do you want, Red?" Logan asked, already suspicious.

Jean grinned, waving the notebook in front of him. "It’s your turn to answer the questions in the slam book."

Logan snorted. "Yeah, no thanks."

Jean pouted. "Oh, come on! Everyone’s doing it."

"That’s exactly why I’m not doin’ it."

"Kevin, Kurt, and Jubilee already filled it out."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Not surprised. They’re way too into the gossip crap."

Jean smirked. "Even your brother answered it."

That actually made Logan pause.

"Victor?" he asked

Jean nodded. "Yep. And let’s just say… the cheer squad had a lot to say about him."

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. "Figures. He probably just wanted to see what they wrote about him."

"Probably," Jean admitted. Then she nudged the notebook toward him. "So? Are you in or what?"

Logan sighed.

He really didn’t want to do this. But if even Victor had answered it, then maybe it wasn’t that bad.

"Fine," he grumbled, snatching the book from her hands.

Jean beamed. "Take your time." With that, she strolled away, leaving Logan alone with the notorious slam book.

With another sigh, Logan flipped it open to the next blank page and picked up his pen.

Favorite food? Steak.
Worst class? Math.
Best friend? Kevin and Kurt. (No way I’m choosing one. Not dealing with that fight.)

Then he reached the dreaded question:

Who’s your crush?

Logan snorted and immediately skipped it, flipping to the next question. No way in hell was he putting that in writing.

The following morning Logan dropped his tray onto the table where Kurt and Kevin were already seated.

The moment he sat down, they turned to him with identical smirks.

"So," Kurt started, leaning in. "Who is your best best friend?"

Logan groaned, stabbing his fork into his mashed potatoes. "We’re not doin’ this."

"But we are," Kevin said, grinning. "Come on, Logan, if you had to choose—"

"I don’t," Logan cut in. "Both of ya are my best friends. End of story."

Kurt and Kevin exchanged glances before starting to bicker again.

"See? I told you he wouldn’t pick," Kurt said, crossing his arms.

"Only 'cause he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, Blue," Kevin shot back.

"Excuse you!" Kurt huffed, pushing up the sleeves of his hoodie like he was getting ready to fight.

Logan rolled his eyes and shoved a spoonful of food into his mouth, waiting for them to wear themselves out. When they didn’t, he sighed dramatically. "Fine," he said, cutting them off. "If I have to choose, today it's Kevin."

Kurt gasped, placing a hand over his heart like Logan had just stabbed him. "You betray me!"

"Relax, Blue," Logan smirked. "It’s only 'cause you were the one who told me to ask Remy for help on my French homework, and that bastard tricked me into writing swear words in my essay. I got a damn C+ because of you."

Kurt clapped his hands together, laughing. "Oh my God, that is hilarious!"

"Yeah, hilarious," Logan grumbled. "If I fail French, you’re doin’ my homework for me."

Before Kurt could retort, Jubilee appeared at the table, sliding into the seat next to Logan with a mischievous grin. "Okay, Logan, you are gonna love this," she said, leaning in.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Do I even wanna know?"

"Oh, absolutely," she said, voice dripping with excitement. "Kitty just told me that someone wrote your name in the ‘Who’s your crush?’ question in Jean’s slam book."

Logan blinked. "What?"

Kurt and Kevin both made exaggerated gasping sounds. "Logan has a secret admirer!" Kurt declared.

Logan ignored them, frowning at Jubilee. "I answered that thing yesterday, and my name wasn’t there."

Jubilee shrugged. "Then whoever wrote it did it after you had it."

Kurt leaned forward, eyes glowing with curiosity. "Ooooh. Who do we think it is?"

Kevin tapped his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. "I’m thinking... Yuriko?"

Kurt shook his head. "No way, what about Neena? She does flirt with him a lot."

"Yuriko makes more sense, though," Kevin countered. "She always stares at Logan in history class."

Logan rolled his eyes. "It’s neither of ‘em."

Kevin and Kurt both turned to him. "And how do you know?"

"'Cause I just do," Logan said flatly. "And also, I don’t care."

Jubilee snorted. "Sure, sure. Big bad Logan totally doesn’t care that someone’s got a crush on him."

"Exactly”.

But even as his friends kept arguing about the possible culprit, Logan couldn’t help but feel a nagging curiosity settle in the back of his mind.

Logan was already done for the day. Just as he was getting towards the parking lot, he saw Ororo leaning casually against his motorcycle.

And in her hands? That familiar, damn pink notebook.

"You gotta be kiddin’ me," Logan muttered, shaking his head.

Ororo raised an eyebrow. "What? Thought you were just gonna ride off without getting the full story?"

Logan sighed. "You heard?"

Ororo let out a small chuckle. "Logan, everyone heard."

"Figures," Logan grumbled. He wasn’t even surprised at this point.

With an amused smile, Ororo flipped open the book and held it out. "See for yourself."

Logan hesitated before his eyes skimmed the page in question. Several names jumped out at him—Alex Summers, Remy LeBeau, Emma Frost, Bobby Drake—but one stood out more than the rest.

Logan Howlett.

Logan frowned, then glanced up at Ororo. "How do I know it wasn’t you who wrote this?"

Ororo laughed, shaking her head. "Please. We had our fun last year, Logan, but I’m so over that."

Logan just nodded, relieved that she wasn’t playing games.

"Besides," Ororo added, flipping a few pages back, "I answered this two days ago."

Logan exhaled through his nose, looking back at the book. "So, who the hell wrote my damn name then?"

Ororo smirked. "Oh, you’re really curious now, huh?"

"I just don’t like unsolved mysteries," Logan muttered.

Ororo hummed, clearly enjoying this. "Knowing you, you’d usually shrug this off and move on with your life," she said, tapping the page. "But since you asked, Jean told me that Marie, Hank, Warren, Piotr, and Scott all answered this yesterday. So, if we narrow it down—"

Logan thought about it for a second. "Marie’s got a thing for Remy. Always has."

Ororo nodded. "True."

"And Hank’s dating Alex Summers."

"Also true."

Logan glanced at the notebook again, scanning the different handwriting styles. He pointed at one of the entries. "See this? Marie wrote Remy’s name. I know her handwriting—did a written project with her last semester. No way she wrote my name too."

Ororo followed his finger, inspecting the scrawled name. "Hmm. Makes sense."

"And Piotr’s got a thing for Kitty, even if he doesn’t wanna do anything about it."

"That does leave just Warren and Scott," Ororo said with a thoughtful tilt of her head.

Logan let out a dry laugh. "Didn’t Summers and Jean used to date, like, a couple months ago?"

Ororo nodded. "Yeah, they did."

Logan shook his head. "I don’t think either of ‘em did it."

Ororo raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "And why’s that?"

Logan crossed his arms. "The rich boy is foolin’ around with Betsy, according to Jubilee. And Summers... well, he’s too wrapped up in his nerd crap to be interested in someone like me."

Ororo hummed in thought, flipping the book open again. "You know, now that I’m looking at it... the handwriting’s kinda interesting."

Logan glanced over her shoulder. The way his name was written—it was slightly tilted, like the person had been too tired of writing by the time they got to that question. It stood out from the rest, looking a little rushed, a little less neat compared to some of the other names.

"You know whose handwriting looks nothing like this?" Ororo continued, tapping her finger against the page. "Scott’s. His handwriting is one of the most impeccable things I’ve ever seen. Straight lines, perfect spacing—it’s like a damn typewriter."

Logan frowned. "So you’re sayin’ this isn’t Summers’?"

Ororo shrugged. "I’m saying that if it is, he was really over it by the time he got to this question."

Logan pulled out his phone and snapped a quick picture of the page. If he was gonna figure this out, he needed all the evidence he could get.

"I’ll investigate this tomorrow," he muttered, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

Ororo laughed. "You really are curious, huh?"

Logan scoffed and swung a leg over his bike. "I just don’t like mysteries."

Ororo smirked knowingly as she stepped back. "Sure, Logan. Whatever you say."

The following day, Logan got straight to work on his little investigation.

First stop: gym class.

He jogged up to Marie while she was tying her sneakers, dropping down onto the bench beside her. “Alright, be honest with me. Did you write my name in Jean’s slam book?”

Marie blinked at him before laughing. “Sugar, I like you, but not in that way. You know I got my eyes on Remy.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah, figured. Just checkin’.”

One suspect down.

In the hallway between classes, he found Piotr by his locker, flipping through his sketchbook. Logan leaned against the metal beside him and got straight to the point.

“You write my name in Jean’s book?”

Piotr looked up, clearly confused. “What book?”

Logan sighed. “The slam book. The one everyone’s been talkin’ about.”

Piotr shook his head. “I only answered that question with Kitty’s name.”

That checked out. Logan had already figured as much, but it was good to cross another name off the list.

Third stop: geography class, where Warren Worthington III was leaning back in his chair, looking bored as hell.

“Yo, rich boy,” Logan said, sliding into his seat beside him.

Warren raised an eyebrow. “Charming as always, Howlett. What do you want?”

“You write my name down in Jean’s book?”

Warren rolled his eyes. “No, I wrote Betsy’s.” Then he looked Logan up and down, tilting his head. “I mean, you’re obviously hot, but you’re not my type of man, big guy.”

Logan just grunted. “Yeah, yeah. Got it.”

Another suspect down.

The next day, Logan got his biggest lead yet.

Hank McCoy was his lab partner for the month in chemistry, which meant Logan had a perfect opportunity to investigate.

While Hank scribbled out notes on their experiment, Logan caught sight of his handwriting—neat, but not as perfect as he expected. It was slightly slanted, kinda similar to the one in the picture.

He pulled out his phone and showed the screenshot to Hank. “This you?”

Hank glanced at it, then let out a laugh. “You’re a good-looking guy, my friend, but I don’t harbor those kinds of feelings toward you.” He smirked. “You do know I’m dating Alex, right?”

Logan exhaled, feeling a little ridiculous. “Yeah, yeah, just makin’ sure.”

Hank studied the picture again, tapping his chin. “Hmmm… this is interesting.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“I know exactly who you’re looking for.”

Logan straightened. “Who?”

Hank smiled knowingly. “You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

Logan groaned. “C’mon, McCoy, I don’t got time for riddles.”

“The answer is right in front of you,” Hank said simply, nudging Logan’s shoulder before turning back to his notes. “You just have to pay a little more attention.”

Logan rolled his eyes, ready to write Hank off as useless—until his gaze drifted forward.

There, sitting at the lab table in front of them, was Scott Summers, scribbling something down in his notebook while Remy muttered something beside him.

Logan stared.

Could it really be…?

Hallways were always busy this time of day. Most of the students rushed to get to their next class, but Logan had one target in sight.

Scott Summers stood by his locker, focused on retrieving a couple of books. He pushed his glasses up his nose as he scanned a page in his notebook before tucking it nearly into his bag.

Logan exhaled through his nose. It still baffled him. Scott was the one who wrote his name in that damn slam book.

The realization had hit him harder than expected last night. He had spent half of the night staring at the ceiling, trying to wrap his head around it.

It wasn’t like he and Scott were friends. They didn’t talk. They weren’t in the same social circles. Hell, they barely acknowledged each other outside of class. Scott was the responsible, straight-laced golden boy with his nose always buried in books, and Logan was… well, not that.

So why him?

Why had Scott written his name?

And more importantly—why did Logan care so damn much?

Logan wasn’t used to second-guessing himself, but this—this had thrown him off balance. He wasn’t pissed. He wasn’t weirded out. If anything…

He kind of liked it.

Now he just needed to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do about it.

He made his way over and leaned against the locker next to Scott’s.

Scott tensed slightly, closing his locker and turning to face him.

“You figured it out already, didn’t you?”

Logan tilted his head. “Wasn’t exactly hard, Summers.”

Scott’s fingers tightened around the strap of his bag. “So what, you’re here to rub it in?”

Logan furrowed his brows. “That’s what you think?”

Scott let out a dry laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Why else would you be here?”

Logan studied him, noting the tension in his posture. The way his jaw clenched. Like he was bracing himself for some kind of ridicule.

Scott exhaled sharply. “Look, I don’t know what you want me to say. I didn’t plan for this to happen. But it did. And I sure as hell wasn’t gonna act on it.” His voice dropped slightly. “It wasn’t supposed to matter.”

Logan frowned. “When did it start?”

Scott hesitated. His grip tightened on the book in his hand. “A couple of months after Jean and I broke up.” His voice was quieter now.  “At first, I thought it was nothing. Just… some stupid passing thought.”

Scott scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “But then it wasn’t. It just—stuck. And I kept telling myself it was nothing. That it would be nothing.” His jaw tightened. “Because what’s the point, right? It’s not like you’d ever—”

He cut himself off.

Logan tilted his head slightly. “Not like I’d ever what?”

Scott let out a breath, then shook his head. “Forget it.”

Logan wasn’t about to let that slide. “No. You started this—finish it.”

“It’s not like you’d ever look at me that way,” Scott said, voice quiet. “You’re you. And I’m me. We don’t—” He exhaled. “We don’t work like that.”

Logan’s brows pulled together. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come on, Logan. I’ve seen the girls you go for. The type of people you hang out with. I don’t fit in there.”

Logan frowned. “So you just assumed?”

Scott shook his head. “I wasn’t assuming anything. I was being realistic.”

Logan scoffed. “Realistic? Summers, you act like we live in two separate universes.”

Scott crossed his arms. “We kind of do. We’ve never exactly been friends, Logan.”

Logan smirked. “No, we haven’t. But I never had a reason to hate ya either.”

Scott sighed. “Doesn’t matter. I never wanted you to find out. I wasn’t going to act on it.”

Scott looked at him, his eyes a little too wide. “Look, can we just pretend this never happened?”

Logan shook his head, uncrossing his arms. “Nah. I don’t work that way.”

Scott blinked in confusion. “Nah?”

Logan smirked. “You free tomorrow night?”

Scott’s brows furrowed. “…Why?”

Logan shrugged casually, trying to hide the nerves creeping in. “Figured we could hang out.”

Scott eyed him suspiciously. “Wait—hold on. You’re joking.”

Logan chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What, you don’t think I’m serious?”

Scott narrowed his eyes, folding his arms. “You’ve never invited me to hang out before. Ever.”

Logan flashed a grin. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”

Scott didn’t seem convinced. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Logan said, his voice low. “I don’t know where this is headed, but I’m willing to find out.”

There was a long pause before Scott let out a small, uncertain laugh. “You’re serious.”

Logan’s expression softened slightly. “Yeah. I am.”

Scott hesitated, his expression flickering between disbelief and uncertainty. “And if this… goes nowhere?”

Logan shrugged again. “Then we can be friends. No harm in that, right?”

Scott scoffed. “Right. Because Logan Howlett really wants to be my friend.”

Logan leaned in just a little, dropping his voice so that only Scott could hear him. “How do you know you’re not the love of my life, Summers?”

Scott’s mouth parted slightly. “W-what?”

Logan smirked, clearly enjoying the shock on Scott’s face. “You could be the one.”

Scott scoffed, his face turning a shade darker as he let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “Oh, come on. Now you’re just messing with me.”

Logan leaned back, still smiling. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Scott groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “This is unbelievable.”

Logan slapped him lightly on the shoulder, still grinning. “I’ll pick you up at six.”

Scott opened his mouth to protest but then exhaled, shaking his head. “...Fine.”

Logan walked away, still grinning to himself. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that.

Chapter Text

It was Friday evening, and Scott was rushing around his room, trying to get ready for his date with Logan. 

His palms were sweaty just thinking about it. He had changed shirts twice already and was now standing in front of the mirror, nervously adjusting the collar of his jacket for the tenth time.

Scott had told Alex about the date earlier, mostly because he needed someone to cover for him if their parents called. Alex’s reaction had been... predictably loud.

"Wait, wait, Logan Howlett? That Logan?" Alex had practically yelled, standing in the hallway with a disbelieving look on his face.

Scott had nodded, cheeks burning.

"And how the hell did he ask you out?" Alex asked, eyebrows raised.

Scott had fidgeted, unable to meet his brother’s eyes.

It hadn’t taken Alex long to figure it out. "Wait a second." Alex said, snapping his fingers, a grin slowly forming. "You wrote his name in Jean’s slam book, didn’t you?"

Scott had flushed an even deeper red but hadn't denied it. Alex just shook his head, laughing under his breath, muttering something about Scott being “a sneaky little nerd."

Now, Scott was downstairs, sitting anxiously on the bottom step of the staircase, bouncing his knee nervously. Gabe was sprawled on the living room couch, half-watching something on his tablet with his headphones on, while Alex was poking around the fridge, looking for ingredients for dinner.

Their father was still at a meeting at the office, and their mom had left earlier for a friend's party. The house felt strangely empty and echoey without them, which Scott decided was probably a good thing. Less embarrassing questions.

A low rumble outside made Scott's heart skip, the unmistakable growl of a motorcycle engine. Scott practically jumped to his feet and rushed to the door.

Alex poked his head out of the kitchen just long enough to smirk and say, "Don't be late, loverboy."

Scott rolled his eyes, but he couldn't even form a comeback, because Logan was pulling up right then.

Scott opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, heart hammering against his ribs.

"Hey." He said, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little breathless.

Logan swung one leg off the bike and sauntered toward him, holding a second helmet in his hand.

"My parents aren't home, so... you don't have to meet them."

Logan smirked slightly. "Good. Meeting the parents's a little early for a first date, don'cha think?"

Scott laughed awkwardly, wishing the ground would swallow him whole. Logan just handed him the spare helmet.

Scott’s fingers brushed against Logan's hand as he took it, and the simple touch sent a spark right up his arm. He fumbled with the helmet a little, blushing furiously.

Logan seemed amused but didn’t comment. Instead, he turned back to the bike, tossing his own helmet on and settling in.

Scott hurried after him, strapping the helmet on as he went.

Inside the house, Alex and Gabe had crowded around the kitchen window. Gabe, pulling out his headphones, asked."Wait, was that Logan Howlett?"

Alex smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, it was."

Gabe stared, wide-eyed. "Holy shit. I didn’t know he was the guy that asked Scott out."

Alex just snorted. "Yeah. Well. Technically..." he shrugged. "Scott might’ve made the first move."

Gabe’s jaw dropped. "Wait. Was Scott the one who wrote Logan's name in Jean’s slam book?"

Alex just laughed, ruffling Gabe’s hair as he turned back to the stove. "Come on, Gabe. Let’s start cooking dinner before Mom gets home and yells at us."

The bike rumbled to a stop outside a small, neon-lit burger joint tucked between a laundromat and a hardware store. Scott took off his helmet, trying to flatten his wind-tousled hair as he looked around. It wasn’t exactly fancy, cracked pavement, a flickering open sign, and the smell of fries wafting through the air.

Logan kicked down the stand on his bike and glanced over at him. "Hope you don't mind this place." He said, tugging his gloves off.

"Might seem a little inadequate for a date, but this is one of my favorite spots."

Scott blinked, surprised at the sudden twinge of affection he felt. Logan seemed almost... sheepish.

"I don't mind," Scott said quickly, hopping off the bike. "Actually, it’s kinda perfect."

Logan gave a small, relieved grunt and led the way inside. The interior was simple, red booths, scratched-up tables, a jukebox humming quietly in the corner. A few families and a group of teenagers were scattered around, but it wasn’t crowded.

They stepped up to the counter, placed their orders, two burgers, fries, and sodas, and found a booth by the window.

As they waited for their food, Logan leaned back, arm resting along the back of the seat. "Used to come here a lot," he said, glancing around. "First place that ever gave me a job. After school, after fights, after... whatever. This place was kinda a safe spot, y’know?"

"I like that." Scott said. "Having a place that feels... steady."

Logan shrugged, but his lips twitched a little smile. 

Their food arrived, steaming and smelling amazing. Logan immediately dug into his burger, but after a few bites, he wiped his mouth with a napkin and glanced at Scott with a sideways look.

"So." Logan said, casual but curious, "Why'd you write my name in the slam book?"

Scott almost choked on his soda.

Logan laughed under his breath. "I mean — When'd you develop the crush?"

Scott set his drink down carefully, face heating up. He stared at the table, picking at the corner of a napkin. "I... I don’t know exactly." 

Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting patiently.

Scott finally peeked up at him. "One day, I was passing by the parking lot... and you were out there. Smoking." He ducked his head, ears burning. "And I just... I couldn’t help but stare."

Scott rushed to add. "That doesn't mean I like the concept or the implications of smoking! I mean, it’s bad, obviously, and unhealthy, and—"

Logan chuckled, deep and warm, cutting off Scott’s rambling.

Scott buried his face in his hands for a second before dragging them down with a groan. "But you just — you looked good. Really good."

His cheeks were burning now, and he couldn’t even look Logan in the eye.

Logan tapped his fingers lightly against the table, a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. "Not the worst reason to have a crush on someone."

Scott finally dared to glance up. Logan didn’t look annoyed. If anything, he looked... charmed.

Trying to recover some dignity, Scott cleared his throat. "It was after Jean and I broke up." He added. "Just to be clear. That wasn’t... overlapping or anything."

Logan nodded. "Yeah?"

Scott nodded too, fiddling with the edge of his tray. "Our schedules were getting messy. Jean was busy prepping for the interstate volleyball tournament, and I had just joined the math club. We barely saw each other anymore. It just... fizzled out."

"That happens." Logan said simply

Scott hesitated, then ventured. "What about you? You and Ororo?"

Logan leaned back, arms stretching lazily. "We were hooking up for, I dunno... four, five months?"

Scott tried not to react too visibly at the word hooking up.

"There were some feelings involved." Logan admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "But we figured... better to end it before things got messy. Didn't wanna screw up the friendship."

Scott nodded, biting into his fry, trying not to overthink that information. It made sense, he guessed. Not everything had to end badly.

Logan must’ve sensed the shift because he changed the subject smoothly. "So, Summers. What else you into?

"Uh... reading? I’m in the middle of this sci-fi series right now. It's about this civilization trying to survive after their planet gets dragged into a black hole’s orbit."

Logan actually looked interested, leaning in a little. "Sounds intense."

Scott perked up, starting to ramble about the world-building, the characters, the crazy plot twists.

Halfway through a particularly excited explanation about alien politics, Scott stopped, flushing. "And now I'm boring you with all this geeky stuff. Sorry."

Logan frowned, looking genuinely confused. "Why’re you apologizing?"

Scott blinked.

"I like hearin' people talk about the stuff they love," Logan said, voice low but certain. "Shows you actually give a damn about somethin'. Not enough people do."

Scott's heart did a strange little flip.

By the time they were done eating their trays sat between them, empty save for a few stray fries and crumpled napkins. Logan leaned back in the booth, arms stretched lazily along the backrest, while Scott sipped the last of his soda through a mostly useless straw.

Logan's gaze drifted out the window for a moment. "So... I work at my dad’s workshop. Mostly auto repair, some metalwork, whatever needs doin’ that day."

Scott tilted his head, interested. “Didn’t know that was a family thing.”

"Yeah." Logan nodded. "My dad owns it. Doesn’t do much anymore, though—mostly yells from the office. Me and Victor do the actual work"

Scott blinked. "You work with your brother?"

"Every damn day," Logan said with a grunt that was half a sigh, half a laugh. "We get along okay. Mostly. He just... knows exactly how to push my buttons, y’know?"

Logan shrugged. “Vic gets on my nerves, but he always has. Big personalities, lotta baggage. Still, he knows what he’s doing under the hood. And when he’s not being a dick, he’s actually not the worst.”

“What about you?” Logan asked. “How is your relationship with your brothers?”

Scott huffed a small laugh. “I’m the middle one. Classic cliché.”

Logan tilted his head. “Let me guess, Alex must be the golden child?”

Scott nodded, the smile on his face a little thinner now. “Yeah. He’s got a football scholarship lined up for next semester. My parents are over the moon. He’s basically everything they ever wanted—athletic, confident, knows how to play the game. Literally and metaphorically.”

Logan watched him, quiet.

Scott hesitated before continuing. “We’re... close. I mean, we tell each other everything most of the time. But it’s complicated. Sometimes I feel like I’m always just trying to catch up to him, you know? Like, no matter what I do, it’s never going to be as impressive as what he does just by existing.”

“That’s gotta suck,” Logan said, voice softer now.

Scott gave a half-hearted shrug. “It is what it is. I guess part of me envies the way they light up when he walks into a room. I don't think they even notice they do it.”

There was a brief silence.

“And Gabe?” Logan asked.

Scott let out a slow breath, his tone shifting. “Gabe’s a wildcard. He’s loud, reckless, always mouthing off to someone. Acts like he doesn’t care about anything, but I think he just doesn’t want to get hurt. He gets in trouble a lot. Detention, fights... You’ve probably seen him around.”

“Yeah.” Logan said, nodding. “He’s... memorable.”

Scott gave a soft laugh at that. “He and I aren’t as close. There’s distance there, I guess. He keeps walls up. With me, with Alex, with everyone. But I still watch out for him. I always will. Doesn’t matter how far he pushes me.”

Logan glanced at him, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “You’re a good brother.”

Scott looked down, unsure of what to say to that. “I try."

They were still lingering at the corner booth, the last of the dinner rush long gone.

Okay, so you know I’m in the math club, and I’ve already rambled about the books I’m reading and how I’m hopelessly obsessed with symmetry in nature—your turn. What do you do in your free time?"

“I box. Not seriously—just at the local gym. Keeps my head clear.”

Scott lit up immediately, eyes widening just a little too much. “I know.”

Logan’s brow rose. “You do?”

Scott dropped his gaze to his lap, suddenly shy. “Saw you once. After school. You were working the punching bag, gloves on, sweat dripping and everything. I was walking by with Remy.”

Logan leaned back a little. “You spying on me, Summers?”

Scott let out a laugh, embarrassed. “No! I mean—yes. A little. Not on purpose.”

Then, before he could stop himself, he added, “I think it’s cool. That you box. I mean… it kind of fits you. You’ve got those... hands.”

Logan blinked.

Scott winced, realizing how that sounded. “Okay, wow, that came out way worse than I meant.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a beat—just tilted his head slightly, watching Scott flail.

Scott rushed on, face going pink. “I just meant, you know... you’re strong. But not in a show-offy way. Like, you do things with your hands. That sounds weird too. Oh my God—”

“No, it didn’t.” Logan said.

Scott’s ears burned. He stared down at the table, wishing a black hole would swallow him whole. “Sorry, I—I didn’t mean to make it weird.”

“You didn’t." Logan said quickly.

Scott still wouldn’t look at him. “I always say the stupidest stuff when I’m nervous.”

There was a pause. “For what it’s worth... I thought it was kinda cute.”

Scott glanced up at him, eyes wide. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all that came out was a breathy. “Oh.”

The ride home was quiet but not uncomfortable. The wind whipped past them on Logan’s motorcycle, and Scott held on tight, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

When they pulled up in front of Scott’s house, the porch light was still on. Logan cut the engine, and for a second, neither of them moved.

“Thanks for tonight,” Logan said, looking over at him. “It was... nice. You’re easy to talk to.”

Scott’s heart flipped. “Yeah... yeah, you too.”

There was a beat, just long enough for the moment to stretch between them. Logan hesitated. Like he wanted to say something more. Like maybe he wasn’t sure if he should.

And then, finally, he leaned in.

Slow. Careful. He pressed a gentle kiss to Scott’s cheek. Barely there. Soft enough that it could’ve been mistaken for nothing

“I—uh... goodnight.” Logan said, his voice just a little unsteady.

Scott nodded, stepping back slowly toward the front door. “Night.”

He didn’t look back until Logan had kicked the engine back to life and driven off into the streetlights.

Scott stood there on the porch for a second too long, his hand on the doorknob.

And then, under his breath, to no one but himself, he whispered:

“I ruined everything.”

His heart still racing from the kiss that didn’t feel like a mistake... but that he was sure had been.

Logan hadn’t said he’d call. Or text. Or anything, really.

Just goodnight.

And that was what stuck the most.

Inside, the house was quiet except for the faint hum of the TV coming from the living room. His mom peeked out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re back late.”

“Yeah.” Scott said, dropping his keys in the bowl by the door. “Lost track of time.”

"Alex told me you were doing a project with Bobby?”

“Yeah.” Scott lied quickly. “We worked on it at his place. Had dinner there, too.”

“Well... since when Bobby rides a motorcycle?”

Scott blinked. “Huh?”

“You pulled up on one.” she said, her tone gentle but unmistakably probing.

“Oh. Right.” He fumbled for something—anything. “He, uh... bought one recently. Said he’s been saving up. Wanted to show it off.”

She raised an eyebrow, not fully convinced, but she let it slide. “Well, Alex and Gabe made dinner while you were out. There’s leftovers if you’re hungry.”

“I’m good,” Scott said. “Thanks, though.”

He turned toward the stairs before she could ask anything else. The silence of his room was waiting—and he desperately needed somewhere to fall apart.

But of course, he didn’t get that far.

As soon as he stepped into the hallway upstairs, Alex poked his head out of his bedroom. “So? How’d your date go?”

Scott sighed. “Fine. It went fine.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Fine? You were gone for hours".

Scott collapsed onto his bed face-first. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

Alex flopped onto the other side of the bed dramatically. “Okay, now I definitely want to talk about it. Spill.”

Scott let out a muffled groan into his pillow. “I said something stupid. Like... really stupid. And now I think I scared him off.”

Alex tilted his head. “What did you say? Did you confess your undying love or something?”

“I complimented his hands.”

There was a beat.

“You... what?”

Scott sat up, already cringing. “Not like that! I was nervous. I meant that he’s strong and, like, does things with them—like boxing, fixing bikes, being... capable. It made sense in my head.”

Alex just stared at him.

Scott fell back onto the bed with a groan. “God, I hate me.”

Alex let out a laugh he clearly tried to stifle. “Okay, I can kinda see how that’d throw a guy off.”

Scott covered his face with a pillow. “And then he kissed me.”

That made Alex sit upright. “Wait—he kissed you?”

“On the cheek.” Scott clarified quickly. “And then he left. Didn’t say anything. No text. No ‘let’s hang out again.’ Nothing.”

“So maybe he’s just playing it cool?” Alex offered.

“Or maybe he thought I was a complete disaster and changed his mind halfway through.” Scott muttered.

Alex looked at him for a moment, softer now. “Scott... you tend to spiral. Just give it a day, alright? If he liked you enough to kiss you, he’ll call.”

Scott didn’t answer.

He just lay there, staring at the ceiling.

The kitchen was dimly lit, just the flicker of the overhead light buzzing faintly. Logan dropped his keys on the counter and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge.

Victor was already at the kitchen table, hunched over a mixing bowl full of off-brand cereal, spoon clinking rhythmically. His tank top was stained with oil and grease from the night shift he’d already put in at the workshop. 

He didn’t look up right away, just gave a sniff and said, “So… how’d your date with the nerdy Summers boy go?”

Logan froze for half a second, then sat down across from him, bottle resting between his palms. “It went… well.”

Victor finally looked at him, eyebrows raised. “Just well?”

Logan let out a slow breath. “More than good.”

Victor nodded, chewing for a few more seconds. “That’s great.” He glanced at Logan again — this time noticing the slight tint rising in his little brother’s cheeks.

“…You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are.” Victor leaned back in his chair, grinning around his spoon. “Something go wrong?”

Logan was quiet for a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck. “No. I just… I liked being around him.”

Victor tilted his head, slower now, more serious. “Yeah?”

Logan nodded. “I got this… I dunno. That butterfly thing. In my stomach.” He gave a small, almost embarrassed shrug. “Only time I ever felt that before was with Ororo. Way back.”

Victor blinked. “Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Victor set his spoon down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Look, if you want to go for something with the Summers kid… you should.”

Logan glanced up at him, uncertain.

Victor rolled his eyes. “Logan, the guy basically told the entire school he likes you when he wrote your name in his ex-girlfriend’s slam book. Everyone knows about that at this point."

Logan looked up. “I know.”

He rinsed his bowl in the sink, voice casual. “When I first heard about it, I figured it was Ororo, maybe Yuriko. Hell, even Kevin crossed my mind.”

Logan blinked. “Kevin's my best friend; well, he and Kurt are". 

Victor shrugged again. “Don't play dumb with me, runt. I've seen the way he stares at you during gym class. But nah. Mortimer was the one who told me. Apparently, it was Scott Summers.”

Logan went still, a little caught off guard.

Victor dried his hands, turning to lean against the counter. “The Summers trio… man. Each one of them is their own kind of chaos. Alex, Scott, Gabe—pick your flavor.”

He grinned, wagging a finger. “I’d climb Alex like a tree if I had the chance, but he’s dating McCoy and I’m not a homewrecker. I respect boundaries.”

Logan snorted, shaking his head.

Victor’s smirk softened just a little. “Point is… if that nerdy Summers boy likes you, he’s not exactly subtle about it. So if you felt something tonight—those butterflies or whatever—don’t run from it.”

Logan looked down, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah…”

Victor grabbed his ragged work jacket from the chair. “Just don’t mess it up, baby brother. That kid’s got a big heart.”

Chapter Text

Monday mornings were always brutal, but this one felt especially heavy.

Scott adjusted the strap of his backpack, his glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose as he walked into school with Alex on one side and Gabe trailing just behind them.

It had been two days since his date with Logan. Two days since the cheek kiss that had left his heart hammering. Two days without a single text. Not even a “hey.” Scott kept telling himself it didn’t mean anything—that Logan had said himself if it went nowhere, they could still be friends. Friendship was better than nothing. He should’ve been fine with that.

So why did it feel like he wasn’t?

Alex stretched, yawning dramatically as they made their way down the hallway. “You look like you haven’t slept since Friday.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Gabe said from behind them, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Maybe ‘cause he’s been staring at his phone every five minutes?”

Scott groaned. “Not you too.”

Alex smirked. “Don’t act innocent. You’ve been glued to that thing all weekend. Every time the screen lights up, you jump like it’s a fire alarm.”

“I was waiting for a grade update.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Right. Because your chemistry quiz is the one that kissed you on the cheek Friday night.”

“Alex,” Scott warned.

“What?” Alex said, tone far too casual. “I’m just pointing out the obvious.”

Gabe shoved his hands into his pockets. “Honestly, I think you should just text him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“He ignores me,” Scott muttered.

“Then you move on,” Gabe said simply. “You’ve survived worse. Like that time you had to partner with Remy for the biology presentation.”

Alex laughed. “That’s true. You can survive Cajun chaos, you can survive anything.”

Scott sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know. It feels like if I text him first, I’m… I don’t know. Too eager?”

“That’s not eager,” Alex said. “That’s initiative.”

Scott frowned. “Initiative?”

“Yeah,” Alex said, gesturing with his coffee cup like a motivational speaker. “The bold act of doing something instead of waiting around for life to do it for you. You showed some of it when you wrote Logan’s name in Jean’s slam book.”

Gabe snorted. “That was initiative? Looked more like a cry for help.”

Alex ignored him. “You made the first move once, and it worked. You got the date. Don’t chicken out now.”

Scott sighed, opening his locker. “It’s different.”

“How?”

“Because now there’s… expectations.”

“Expectations are fine,” Alex said. “You’re allowed to want something, Scott. It’s not illegal.”

Before Scott could reply, a familiar pair of voices floated down the hallway.

“Morning, Summers brothers,” Jean greeted, balancing a steaming cup of coffee in her hand. Hank walked beside her, his own cup held with surgical precision.

“Morning,” Alex said with a grin. He immediately leaned in and kissed Hank on the cheek, earning an amused smile from the taller boy.

Gabe groaned loudly. “Do you two ever stop being gross?”

Hank chuckled. “Good morning to you too, Gabriel.”

Jean’s eyes twinkled as she looked between them. “And how’s everyone else holding up this morning?”

Alex smirked. “Scott’s been going through an emotional crisis.”

“Alex,” Scott hissed.

Jean raised an eyebrow. “Crisis?”

Hank looked intrigued. “Oh, do tell.”

Scott closed his locker a little too hard. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something,” Alex said cheerfully. “My dear brother here had a date on Friday night.”

“With Logan,” Gabe added. 

“That’s excellent, Scott.” Hank sounded genuinely happy for his friend. 

Scott blushed so hard he wished the floor would swallow him whole. “It wasn’t— It’s not a big deal.”

Alex, of course, wasn’t done. “Apparently there were some kisses involved.”

“Alex!”

Hank raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

Scott rubbed the back of his neck. “It was just a kiss on the cheek.”

Jean laughed lightly. “Still sweet.”

Gabe made a face. “Gross.”

Jean elbowed him playfully. “You’ll grow out of that phase.”

Scott cleared his throat, voice dropping a little. “Jean… you’re okay with this?”

She blinked, then smiled.

“Of course I am. Scott, we broke up months ago. You don’t need my permission to be happy.”

He looked unsure. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“I’m happy for you,” she said. “Really.”

Alex grinned, patting his brother’s shoulder. “See? Even your ex-girlfriend wants to see you date again. That’s cosmic approval.”

Scott sighed. “It’s not that easy.”

“Sure it is,” Alex said. “You like him. He likes you. Boom. Romance.”

“That’s not how it works,” Scott muttered. “Even if nothing romantic happens, he said we could still be friends.”

Jean nodded thoughtfully. “That’s mature.”

“Or,” Alex said, “it’s lame.”

“Alexander,” Hank warned gently.

Alex laughed, holding up his hands. “Kidding.”

Jean nudged Scott’s arm. “You know, I think that’s good. Friends or more, it’s worth trying. He clearly enjoyed spending time with you.”

“Then why hasn’t he texted?” Scott asked quietly.

“Maybe he’s just nervous,” Hank suggested. “Not everyone’s as confident as you think.”

Alex smirked. “See? Maybe he’s the one overanalyzing now.”

Gabe snorted. “Wow. A match made in awkward heaven.”

Jean took another sip of coffee, her voice softening. “Just talk to him, Scott. Don’t let the silence make the choice for you.”

Scott adjusted his glasses again, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. “You all make it sound so simple.”

“That’s ‘cause it is,” Alex said, bumping his shoulder. “It’s called initiative.”

Gabe groaned. “If I hear that word one more time…”

Logan slammed his locker shut with a metallic thud that echoed down the hallway.

“Easy, runt,” Victor drawled from beside him, leaning against the lockers with his usual smirk. “What’d that door ever do to you?”

“Shut up,” Logan muttered, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“Lemme guess,” Victor said, crossing his arms. “You’re pissy ‘cause you didn’t sleep again.”

“Didn’t need to,” Logan said.

“Uh-huh. Sure. This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Summers kid, would it?”

Logan shot him a look. “Don’t start.”

Victor chuckled. “Oh, I’m starting. You’ve been walking around like you’ve got a storm cloud following you since Saturday.”

Logan exhaled through his nose. “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine,” Victor repeated, voice full of disbelief. “So fine that you rewrote your text to him, what, five times last night?”

Logan froze mid-step, then glared at him. “You go through my phone again?”

Victor grinned. “Nah. Didn’t need to. You talk out loud when you overthink. You kept muttering stuff like ‘too short,’ ‘too formal,’ and my personal favorite — ‘this sounds stupid.’”

“Jesus Christ,” Logan muttered, rubbing his face. “You’re impossible.”

Victor shrugged. “You make it too easy.”

Logan groaned, tugging his backpack higher. “I tried, okay? I started typing, and then I just… didn’t know what to say.”

Victor gave him a long, knowing look. “So you froze.”

Logan didn’t answer.

“That’s a yes,” Victor said, grinning. “You got it bad.”

“I don’t got anything,” Logan shot back, but it came out weak.

Victor smirked wider. “You like him.”

“Didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Victor smirked. “You get that weird look every time I mention your date with the Summers boy. The one that says, ‘I’m doomed, but maybe in a good way.’”

Logan rolled his eyes. “You really need new hobbies.”

“Teasing you is my hobby.”

Before Logan could retort, a familiar voice called from down the hall. “Logan!”

Jubilee practically bounced up to them, sunglasses perched on her head and an energy drink in hand. Behind her trailed Kurt and Kevin, both wearing matching mischievous grins.

“Oh, great,” Victor muttered. “Your fan club.”

“Shut up,” Logan said, under his breath, as his friends closed in.

“Logan,” Jubilee said dramatically, “why didn’t you tell us you went on a date?”

Kurt gasped, clasping his hands together. “Was it romantic?”

Kevin leaned casually against the lockers. “More importantly, who with?”

Victor clapped a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “That’d be Scott Summers.”

Logan froze. “Vic—”

But Victor was already walking away, laughing. “Good luck, lover boy. You’re on your own.”

Jubilee’s mouth dropped open. “Wait—Scott Summers? As in ‘student-council, mathlete, perfect-attendance Summers?’”

Logan sighed. “Don’t start.”

Kevin grinned. “You and Scott? That is adorable.”

Kurt made a dreamy sigh. “A forbidden romance between the rebel and the golden boy. Très dramatique.”

Kevin nodded solemnly. “Ten bucks says Logan chickened out halfway through.”

Logan looked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Kevin shrugged. “Just saying, you’ve got that look. Like a guy who overthinks every little thing.”

“Newsflash — I don’t overthink.”

“Sure,” Jubilee said. “And I don’t gossip.”

Logan groaned. “You’re all ridiculous.”

Kurt leaned forward, curious. “So, what did happen? The world needs to know.”

“Nothing happened,” Logan said firmly. “We just went out, talked, had dinner.”

Jubilee crossed her arms. “And?”

Logan hesitated, jaw tightening. “And… I might’ve kissed him.”

Kevin grinned. “Called it.”

“Where?” Jubilee asked instantly.

“Cheek,” Logan said, voice low.

Kurt gasped. “So soft! So delicate! So tragically restrained!”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Logan said, rubbing the back of his neck.

But his friends were grinning too hard to stop.

Jubilee leaned in, sing-song. “He’s totally got you, doesn’t he?”

Logan opened his locker again just to have something to do. “You’re all a pain in my ass.”

Kevin shrugged. “Maybe. But we’re right.”

Logan shot him a look, but there was no heat behind it. “He hasn’t texted,” he admitted quietly.

Jubilee’s smile softened a little. “Then text him first.”

Kurt nodded. “Ja. Life is short, mein Freund.”

Logan sighed, shutting the locker again. “You sound just like my brother.”

Jubilee smirked. “Then maybe you should listen to him.”

As they walked off, laughing and teasing, Logan lingered for a moment. His phone buzzed in his pocket — just a class reminder — but his heart jumped anyway.

By the time lunch rolled around, Scott had managed to convince himself that he was done thinking about Logan.

That illusion lasted exactly three minutes.

“Scott!” Remy called, waving him over from one of the tables near the window. “Over here, mon ami!”

Scott slid his tray down across from Remy and Bobby, trying to ignore the way both of them were grinning like they already knew something.

“What?” Scott asked warily.

Bobby raised his eyebrows. “So it’s true.”

Scott frowned. “What’s true?”

“That you and Logan had a date on Friday.”

Scott froze, halfway through unwrapping his sandwich. “How— How do you even know about that?”

Bobby grinned. “Please. By third period, the entire cafeteria knew. This school runs on gossip faster than Wi-Fi.”

Remy leaned forward, chin in his hand. “Jubilee told Kitty, Kitty told Marie, Marie told Betsy, Betsy told the cheer team, and the cheer team told everyone else.

Voilà. You are officially headline news.”

Scott groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Oh my God.”

Bobby patted his shoulder like someone comforting a fallen soldier. “Hey, could be worse. At least the rumor isn’t that you wrote his name in Jean’s slam book.”

Scott looked up sharply. “People know about that too?”

Remy smirked. “Please. That was Chapter One of the saga.”

Scott let his head hit the table with a soft thud. “I hate this school.”

“You’ll live,” Bobby said, stealing one of Scott’s fries. “Now tell us everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Scott said flatly.

Remy gasped in mock offense. “Nonsense. You go on a date with Logan Howlett — the guy who once got detention for fighting a vending machine — and you expect us not to ask questions?”

Scott narrowed his eyes. “You weren’t even this interested when I told you about my internship application.”

“That’s because this is actually fun,” Bobby said.

Scott sighed. “We just got burgers. Talked. That’s it.”

Remy twirled a fry between his fingers. “So? Was he charming? Brooding? Did he ask you about your hopes and dreams?”

“He asked about my brothers,” Scott muttered, “and told me about working at his dad’s auto shop.”

Bobby blinked. “That’s… kind of cute, actually.”

“Uh-huh.” Remy tapped his fingers on the table. “And the kiss?”

Scott’s cheeks went red. “It wasn’t a kiss.”

Bobby tilted his head. “Was it forehead? Nose? Ear? What are we talking here?”

Scott glared. “Cheek.”

Remy slapped a hand to his chest dramatically. “Mon dieu! A scandal!”

Bobby laughed. “A cheek kiss? That’s like, the soft launch of romance.”

Scott groaned. “You guys are the worst.”

Remy smirked. “Oh, come on, mon cher. It’s cute! Little Summers finally gettin’ himself a boyfriend.”

“He’s not— We’re not—” Scott stammered, his face heating up even more. “He hasn’t even texted me.”

Bobby’s grin softened a little. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Scott stared down at his food. “It’s been two days.”

Remy tilted his head. “Maybe he’s shy.”

“Logan?” Scott said flatly. “Shy?”

Bobby shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. Like you writing his name in Jean’s slam book, for example.”

Scott dropped his head into his hands. “I will never live that down, will I?”

Remy smirked. “Non.”

Scott groaned into his palms. “Great.”

Bobby nudged him gently. “Hey, seriously though. Don’t overthink it. Maybe he’s just waiting to see if you’ll text first.”

Scott peeked through his fingers. “You sound like Alex.”

Bobby grinned. “That means I’m right.”

Remy leaned in. “You want my advice?”

“No.”

Remy ignored that completely. “Text him. Just say somethin’ simple. Somethin’ that shows you ain’t playin’ games.”

Scott sighed. “You know what’s sad? Everyone keeps giving me the same advice, and it still sounds terrifying.”

Remy chuckled. “That’s ‘cause you overthink everything, mon ami. Just do it before the gossip train leaves the station without you.”

Bobby nodded. “Yeah, because right now, the school’s got at least four different versions of the story.”

Scott frowned. “Four?”

“Yup,” Bobby said. “One says you two kissed behind the gym. Another says you went to a fancy restaurant downtown. And my personal favorite — apparently, you and Logan got matching tattoos.”

Scott stared at him. “Matching tattoos.”

Bobby grinned. “You and Logan: ride or die, baby.”

Remy snorted so hard soda nearly came out of his nose. “Mon dieu, that’s too good!”

Scott dropped his fork, groaning. “This place is insane.”

“You say that like you’re surprised,” Bobby said, laughing. “You’ve been here for years.”

Scott slumped in his seat. “Why did I think high school was a good place to fall for someone?”

“Because you’re a romantic idiot,” Remy said, grinning.

Scott glanced up at him. “Thanks.”

Remy shrugged. “Hey, better idiot than coward. You like him, yeah?”

Scott hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah.”

“Then act like it.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “You sound like Jean now.”

Bobby smirked. “Then maybe she’s right too.”

Scott sighed, staring at the unread messages on his phone. He’d typed Logan’s name into the text bar more than once that morning, but the blinking cursor always felt like a dare he couldn’t take.

By the time lunch rolled around, Logan was starting to wonder if the entire school had developed telepathy overnight.

Everywhere he went, people were whispering. Not to his face, of course — no one was stupid enough to poke the bear — but the sideways glances were obvious.
He could practically hear it: That’s him. The guy from the slam book. The one Scott Summers went out with.

He dropped his tray onto the nearest empty table, trying to ignore it. But the universe, as usual, had other plans.

“Hey, lover boy.”

Jubilee slid into the seat across from him, tray clattering as she grinned like the cat that got the cream. Behind her came Kurt and Kevin, both looking equally entertained.

Logan didn’t even bother pretending he didn’t know what was coming. “No.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “No what?”

“No to whatever you’re about to say.”

Jubilee leaned forward, chin in her hand. “You can’t say no if we haven’t asked anything yet.”

“You’re about to,” Logan muttered.

Kurt smirked, his accent curling through his words. “Ve heard some very interesting rumors today.”

“Not interested.”

Kevin slid into the seat beside him. “Come on, man. You’re telling me you don’t wanna know how many people think you and Summers are secretly engaged?”

Logan blinked. “Engaged?”

Jubilee snorted. “Okay, technically it’s that you two got matching tattoos. But still!”

“Oh my God,” Logan muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “How the hell do these things start?”

“Probably you,” Kurt said with mock seriousness. “You are too mysterious. People fill in the gaps.”

Jubilee nodded. “Yeah, one minute you’re punching lockers, the next you’re giving cheek kisses to the school’s golden boy. You’re basically a teen drama now.”

Logan groaned. “You three are unbearable.”

“Hey, we’re being supportive,” Kevin said, grinning. “In a deeply invasive kind of way.”

Logan stabbed at his fries. “You already got all the details. I’m not repeating myself.”

“Right, right,” Jubilee said, waving her hand dismissively. “Burger joint, nice talk, cheek kiss, romantic tension—blah blah blah. We’ve heard the recap.” She leaned back, smirking. “We just enjoy the live updates of your emotional crisis.”

“I don’t have an emotional crisis.”

Kurt grinned. “Den why do you keep checking your phone?”

Logan froze mid-motion, his hand halfway to his pocket.

Jubilee gasped dramatically. “He so was.”

Kevin laughed. “Unbelievable. Big bad Logan Howlett brought down by one text notification.”

Logan exhaled through his nose. “You three need new hobbies.”

“We already have one,” Jubilee said. “It’s called watching you fall in love.”

Logan glared at her, but before he could respond, a familiar voice drifted from behind him.

“Well,” Ororo said, walking up with her tray balanced perfectly in one hand, “isn’t this an interesting topic of conversation?”

Jubilee’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

Kevin grinned. “Oh yes.”

Kurt waved cheerfully. “Hello, Ororo!”

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Ororo smiled as she set her tray down across from him. “Relax, Logan. I didn’t come to embarrass you.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because Jean told me something I found… surprising.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “Of course she did.”

“She mentioned that you and Scott had a date on Friday,” Ororo continued calmly. “I thought she was joking. But it seems she wasn’t.”

The teasing energy at the table vanished in an instant.

Kurt’s eyes darted between the two of them, his grin faltering. “Ah. Ve should probably go before ve… witness murder.”

“Agreed,” Kevin said, grabbing his tray. “I’ll, uh, go get dessert. Somewhere far away.”

Jubilee blinked, realizing what was about to unfold. “Yeah, yeah, totally. I love dessert. Huge fan. We’ll just—uh—pretend we didn’t hear that.”

The three of them were gone in seconds, scattering like pigeons before a storm.

It wasn’t hard to guess why. Everyone at this table remembered that Logan and Ororo had history — the kind that still made the air buzz a little when they were alone together.

Now it was just Logan and Ororo.

She folded her hands, watching him with that patient calm that always made him uneasy. “So. You and Scott Summers.”

Logan stared at his tray. “Guess everyone knows now.”

“Seems that way.”

He huffed a small laugh. “Great. Love that for me.”

Ororo tilted her head slightly. “You sound defensive.”

“I’m not.”

“You always say that when you are.”

He gave her a look. “You here to psychoanalyze me or eat lunch?”

“Can’t I do both?” she said with a smirk, taking a slow sip of her drink.

Logan shook his head, fighting a reluctant smile. “You’re a menace.”

Ororo laughed softly. “And you’re transparent. You like him.”

“I don’t—”

She raised an eyebrow. “Logan.”

He sighed. “Maybe.”

“‘Maybe,’” she repeated, amused. “You’ve been brooding since Friday. You’ve checked your phone five times in the last ten minutes. That’s not ‘maybe.’ That’s a man in denial.”

“Or maybe I just don’t wanna screw things up,” he muttered.

Ororo’s expression softened. “Ah. There it is.”

Logan leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “He’s different, ‘Ro. I mean, yeah, he’s awkward as hell, but he’s… honest. He doesn’t play games.”

Ororo smiled faintly. “And that scares you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “He’s too good for all this rumor crap. Probably regrettin’ the whole thing already.”

“Or,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “he’s overthinking everything just as much as you are.”

He looked up at her, skeptical. “You think so?”

“Scott Summers?” Ororo chuckled. “That boy probably made a pros-and-cons list before his first kiss. Trust me, he’s thinking about you.”

Logan couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped him. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

Ororo studied him for a moment, her voice softer now. “Jean said she’s happy for him, you know. For both of you.”

Logan blinked. “She did?”

“She told me this morning,” Ororo said. “Said Scott looked nervous, but good. Said she thinks you might be exactly what he needs.”

Something in Logan’s chest eased at that — a quiet relief he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Huh.”

Ororo smiled knowingly. “What’s that look for?”

“Just… wasn’t expectin’ her to be okay with it.”

“She’s moved on, Logan. You should stop assuming the worst.”

There was a brief pause before Logan spoke again, quieter this time. “And you?”

She knew exactly what he meant but decided not to play along. “Of course I am,” she said gently, cutting off the question before he could dance around it.

Scott adjusted his backpack, trying to look like he wasn’t overthinking every step. Alex walked on his right, talking about dinner plans, while Gabe trailed a few steps behind, fiddling with his phone.

“Man, Monday dragged,” Gabe said.

“Yeah,” Alex replied. “Probably ‘cause Scott spent the whole day in a lovesick haze.”

Scott shot him a look. “Can you not?”

“What?” Alex said innocently. “I’m just calling it like I see it.”

Gabe grinned. “You still haven’t texted him, have you?”

Scott exhaled. “No.”

“Dude.”

“I tried! I wrote something, and then deleted it. Three times.”

Alex laughed. “You know there’s this thing called sending?”

Scott groaned. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Sure I would,” Alex said. “It’s called fear of rejection. Classic Summers trait.”

“Wow,” Scott muttered. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

Gabe nudged him. “You’re gonna see him eventually. Might as well talk then.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed. “Or, crazy idea, talk now.”

Scott frowned. “What’s that supposed to—”

Meanwhile, at the opposite end of the hall, Logan walked beside Victor, the two cutting through the thinning crowd like they owned the place.

“So, how’d the big ‘date’ talk go with Ororo?” Victor asked, smirking.

Logan shot him a side-eye. “Fine.”

“Uh-huh. That’s your ‘I got emotionally roasted but won’t admit it’ tone.”

“She wasn’t roastin’ me,” Logan muttered.

“She definitely was,” Victor said, chuckling. “You still overthinkin’ that kiss?”

“Wasn’t overthinkin’,” Logan said, adjusting the strap on his backpack.

“Right. You’ve been quiet since Friday. And you’ve checked your phone, what, fifty times?”

“Forty-nine,” Logan grumbled.

Victor grinned. “Adorable.”

“Shut up.”

Victor’s smirk widened. “So what’s the plan, big guy? You gonna text him or just keep brooding until next month?”

“I was gonna text him,” Logan said.

Victor blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Logan said. “But…”

“But?”

Logan sighed. “Got scared.”

Victor barked out a laugh. “You? Scared? That’s a new one.”

“Laugh it up,” Logan said dryly. “You ever try textin’ someone you actually like? Harder than it looks.”

“Aw,” Victor said, grinning. “My big brother’s got a crush.”

Logan gave him a look that could have set the lockers on fire. “You’re real close to losin’ your ride home.”

Victor just chuckled. “Worth it.”

The two kept walking, Victor still teasing under his breath while Logan’s mind drifted to his date with Scott. 

Neither of them noticed the group coming from the other side.

Scott was mid-argument with Alex about initiative; Logan was mid-eye-roll at Victor’s latest jab.
They both turned the corner at the same time — and collided.

Hard.

Books and papers went flying in every direction.

“Watch where you’re—”

“Oh, come on—”

Both stopped mid-sentence.

Scott blinked up at him, wide-eyed. “Logan?”

Logan blinked back. “Scott.”

Alex looked at Victor, deadpan. “Of course.”

Victor grinned. “I’m psychic.”

Gabe groaned. “Please tell me this means I can go home now.”

Alex elbowed him lightly. “Not yet, kid. This is getting good.”

Victor raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, lovebirds. We’ll give you some space.”

“I’ll wait in the car,” he added to Logan, clapping his brother’s shoulder before heading down the hall.

“I’ll go find Hank,” Alex said with a smirk, steering Gabe away.

“Why am I always the third wheel?” Gabe muttered as they disappeared around the corner.

And just like that, the hallway quieted again.

Scott crouched to grab his fallen books. “Sorry, I wasn’t looking.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Logan said, kneeling to help. “Guess we were both distracted.”

Their hands brushed as they reached for the same notebook. Neither of them pulled back right away.

Scott’s heart stuttered. Logan’s did too.

Scott stood, clutching his books to his chest. “Uh… thanks.”

Logan rubbed the back of his neck. “I was, uh, gonna text you.”

Scott blinked, caught off guard. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Logan said. “But I got scared.”

Scott blinked again, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “That’s funny. The same thing happened to me.”

Logan’s brows lifted. “You got scared?”

Scott nodded. “Typed three messages. Deleted all of them.”

Logan chuckled quietly. “Guess we’re both cowards.”

“Maybe,” Scott said, smiling. “Or just bad at this.”

Logan smirked. “Could be both.”

They stood there for a moment, the tension melting.

“I had a good time Friday,” Logan said finally.

Scott’s voice softened. “Me too.”

“Didn’t mean to make things weird by not textin’.”

“They weren’t weird,” Scott said quickly. “I just… didn’t know what to say either.”

Logan looked at him — really looked at him — and smiled. 

“Glad I’m not the only one.”

“So…” Logan shifted his weight. “You free tomorrow after school?”

Scott grimaced. “Mathletes meeting.”

“Right.” Logan nodded. “What about Wednesday?”

“You’ve got boxing,” Scott said before he could stop himself.

Logan’s mouth curved. “You been keepin’ tabs on me?”

Scott blushed. “Maybe.”

“Then come by after practice,” Logan said. “We could grab pizza. Or go to the movies. Or bowling.”

“Bowling?”

“Yeah,” Logan said. “It’s low pressure. I can impress you with how bad I am.”

Scott laughed, a light sound that made Logan grin wider. “You’re on.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

“Good.”

They stood there for a moment, the hallway thinning out around them.

Logan nodded toward the exit. “I should go before Victor starts honking.”

Scott smiled. “Yeah. See you Wednesday.”

Logan started down the hall, then paused and turned back. “Hey, Scott?”

“Yeah?”

Logan hesitated, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “I’m glad we ran into each other.”

Scott’s smile softened. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Me too.”

As Logan disappeared around the corner, Scott exhaled — slow and shaky, the day’s tension unraveling in one breath.

Alex’s voice echoed faintly from down the hall: “See? Initiative pays off!”

Scott rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.