4.1K! Awesome! ILYSM...and here we go!

*Edited*

LOGAN POV:
After the movies ended and Clara moved out of my sight I started walking back home. I've gotten in lots of trouble lately, with lots of different people all because of the angst and anger I've held against Clara and I not being together anymore. And I know how cliche that sounds but it hurt and I had to take that hurt out on something. So whenever someone bothered me or did something that normally would just earn a scathing remark or sarcastic smirk I would instead create an even bigger problem. As I walked I thought of what had happened earlier on today and shivered. I've changed for the worse again, just like last time.

I was slouched at one of the tables at a cafe that I've been going to lately and drinking some bitter dark coffee that sent a tingle up my spine when I heard the thunk of something being placed down and saw someone in a classic letterman jacket sitting down across from me. I glanced up from my cup. It was one of the jocks, Larrison.

"What's up, man?" I nod at Larrison.

"Just wondering about you and Clara..." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Did you guys...do it?" He asks, bluntly.

"What? No!" I answer, surprised. I would never ever do something like that unless we were ready. She was more than just a hook up. She was so much more.

"Are you serious man? If I were in your place I would totally do so." He crosses his arms and leans back in his seat. I feel myself getting angrier. "For example, that girl over there." He points towards a pretty girl near the counter. "Totally fuckable."

I stand up, slamming my fists into the table. "Girls aren't just things you play with and throw away. They have more worth than that. You are a d*ck." I shout. I don't care if people hear me. Larrison needs to learn that there is more to a person then their ability to give you a nice blowjob. He raises an eyebrow at me.

"You sure you want to have a problem with me, girly?" He asks me, smirk forming slowly across his features.

"Yes." I hiss back at him, digging my knuckles into the table.

"I'll see you later then, Logan." He gives me a small glare before disappearing out of the restaurant. I knew I was going to get in so much trouble but I just gave a sigh and sunk down even further into my arms that were resting on the table. What he'd said about using girls reminded me of what Clara said and how wrong it was, how she thought of me.

I bowed my head low as I came close to my house. Larrison was no doubt planning some kind of revenge on me, for humiliating him in the cafe and I had to keep myself safe, for now. I walk past a couple of closed store fronts when I feel something slam into the back of my knees, making them give way and plunging me face first to the floor. I feel a grip on my ankle and I can feel the grit of the pavement as I am dragged into the nearest darkest place. I struggle, trying to turn around and look at the face of my attacker but it is useless. Finally the grip on my ankle relaxes and I stand up. I face the attacker and who would it be if it wasn't Larrison and a couple of his cronies? They are obviously drunk. One of his guys is still holding a bottle of vodka, swaying slightly on his feet. The other has a cigarette hanging limply from his lips. I throw the first punch and manage to graze Larrison's cheekbone before he relays back with a stronger punch that I quickly dodge. We go back and forth for awhile, his cronies watching with amusement and curiosity. After a few more punches are thrown and my knuckles are starting to ache they step in. I hear a smattering as the glass of vodka hits the floor and the guy who was drinking from it launches himself at me with a switchblade. I know that I probably won't come out of this fight pretty, that's for sure. My cheek is gashed as he slides the knife down and I groan in agony, crimson clouding my vision.

Suddenly, I hear a scream and footsteps rushing towards us. Someone is dragging me away from the group as a couple of other figures fight with Larrison and his group. I slowly see them each drop to the floor, weak, drunk and probably going to wake up with a marvellous hangover. The boys glance up from their work and I see the face of Troy and a couple of his other friends. I can feel nails digging into my arm and look to see the person who had dragged me away from the fight. Clara. She examines her face with worried eyes and brushes a hand on my cheek, smearing some of the blood coming from the low cut before releasing her grip on me and making her way to her brother, making sure that they are okay as well. I see one of Troy's friends looking at her with so much concern. He slings an arm over her shoulder and leads her away from the chaos. She gave him a smile on thanks. He was taller than her by an inch or two and seemed to perfectly fit with her, too. I shake off my thoughts quickly. Clara rips a piece of cloth off her shirt and presses it to my wound.  I look at her but it seems like shes trying hard not to meet me eyes, once she's told me to put pressure on to she gestures for the others to follow her before quickly making her way back to her house.  I'm going up the driveway to my own door when she stops me.

"Logan, Come to mine for a bit. You need some help. As for you guys" She gestures towards Troy's friends. "You can go back home. Thank you so much for your help." The guy who was looking at her earlier gives her a hug which she returns quite warmly before she grabs my hand and drags me into her house. I go up the stairs after her to her room where she rummages around for some bandages and alcohol.  Just like old times.  Before I knew what I was doing I had already blurred out all that was on my mind:

"Clara?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I love you."