Chapter One: Jamestown

My father always told me that I was an eccentric little thing, and I guess it wasn't until later years after he had passed that I realized what that meant. Where I came from I was 'that kid' you know, the one who sat alone at lunch, not that he had no one to sit with, he just chose to sit alone. People are too much to handle, books are his friends. Knows way too much about the little things that make up our universe, listens to weird music. Never picked on, but never really befriended by the masses.

That was me, the loner, the weird quiet guy who was nice to everyone when he actually acknowledged the world around him. I was comfortable where I was in the strange city of Chicago, and before the beginning of my junior year of high school my mom decides that we should get away from the city where we had both spent our whole lives. I knew why she had wanted to do it, she couldn't stay in the home where her husband had built every wall, laid every brick, hung every picture… and I understood, she had nothing to explain to me.

"Kendall," I heard my mother call to me from down the hall, "are you finished packing up?"

I sighed as I sat up on the middle of my floor; here I was getting ready to leave behind the house where I'd spent my entire childhood. Not a care. Kind of scares me how I take things sometimes, but my mom needed this. So I would go without question.

"Yeah, ma," I called back to her as I grabbed my backpack from the floor and stood. I put my headphones in my ears and hit play on my iPhone. Under neath the bridge, top has sprung a leak. and the animals that I've trapped have all become my pets. I chuckled to myself as I thought about how happy Kurt Cobain automatically made me. I looked at the walls as I stuffed my hands into my pockets. Bare, nothing I had grown used to seeing hung from hooks in the paint. I sighed and continued down the stairs and out to the car, my mom already sitting in the passenger's seat.

I shook my head as I opened the door and got into my little silver BMW. I took out my headphones and handed my phone to my mother. She plugged it into the stereo and hit play.

"So I take it I'm driving all the way to Minnesota?" I asked as I fastened my seat belt.

She looked at me and smiled, giving a simple nod. I raised an eyebrow at her as I began to pull away from the house. I'll do anything for the woman, what can I say?

We entered the town of, whatever this town is called, and I looked around as I drove through the lamp lit streets. This town was cute, and looked mighty well off.

"I hope that the people here aren't as stuck up as this town seems," said my mother shaking her head. I looked at her wondering, as I always do, how she can read my mind.

"I was just thinking the same thing," I told her with a smile as she lit a cigarette for her and myself. I took it from her with a bow of the head and took a long drag; I hadn't had a cigarette since Wisconsin.

"You always have been a younger prettier version of me," she explained with a wink.

I laughed and shook my head, this woman. She gave me directions as we made our way to our new house. She pointed to a house a little bit away from downtown as we made our last turn.

"Is that it?" I asked with a little anticipation. The house was adorable it was just like any other old fashioned, Italian styled house. But it was precious, brick climbing up the front wall with a huge wood door, and vines reaching to the top of the chimney. Then I got a weird feeling that I had been to this place before. I looked at my mother and she looked near in tears as she nodded her head.

"Yeah, this is it," She got out of the car and sat on the hood as we watched the movers take our furniture and various knick knacks inside, "this is the house that your father grew up in."

I looked to her and put my arm around her shoulder, giving her the comfort I knew she needed. She looked at my phone and looked for a song to play as it was still plugged into my stereo. Today I may not have a thing at all, except for just a dream, or two. I smiled and closed my eyes as I laid my head down upon my mother's. Frank Sinatra, my father's favorite. I began to sing the words along with him and swayed with my mother under my arm.

"Come on," I said hopping off the hood and holding out my hand to her, "dance with me."

She looked at my hand and smiled as she took it. I held it up high as she put her left hand on my shoulder. I brought my hand to her waist and we started to sway as I continued to sing to her. But with you there by my side I'll soon be turning that tide, just wait. I nuzzled my nose into her hair and held her close as I felt the eyes of the movers on my back. I smiled and took my hand away from my mother's flipping them off; she chuckled and looked up at me.

"I'm okay now, let's get unpacked," she said to me.

I shook my head, and got out my cigarettes and lit one, "I'm going to unpack later, I want to go get some coffee. But first I'm gonna go in and change," I said taking a drag of my cigarette. I started towards the house, and before stepping inside I turned to her and held the cigarette out in front of me with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes you can smoke in the house, Ken," she yelled to me before walking over to the movers.

I walked inside and stood on the entrance as I examined all the work the movers had done. The couches were already in the living room along with the coffee table and the entertainment center, but no television. I raised an eyebrow and looked to the stairs and the three doors at the top. I made a mental note to check out those rooms when I got back from my coffee excursion. I made my way through the living room and turned where I saw all of my boxes set in front of a door near the entrance to the kitchen. I looked at the boxes until I found the one I was looking for, Darth's Crap; I smirked at my mother's crudeness and lifted the box. I opened the door by my boxes and descended the stairs, my mom just knew me to well. My room was the entire basement of this old house, newly finished which I was somewhat mad about. But there was still one wall completely covered in brick near opposite the stairs. I walked into the bathroom that was through a door on the wall left of the brick. I looked myself over in the mirror before stripping down to my boxers.

I was decent looking, I guess. I was slim with muscles that were toned just the right amount to actually look like I did something other than sit around and read. I looked at my face, my mom told me that I was the handsomest thing she'd ever seen but I just didn't see it. My nose and cheek bones were sprinkled in freckles, and my eye brows were just a little big for my liking. I did, however, like my smile only because it reached my strangely green eyes in the best way. My hair deep brown color faded short on the sides and much longer on the top, which was pushed up and over to the left with a sort of swoop. I reached into the box and pulled out a pair of ripped blue skinny jeans and slipped them on my legs. I reached back in, and after some digging I found my loose, seven sizes too big white tank top with a skull on it. I slipped it over my head and proceeded to put a black hooded jacket over it making sure to leave the hood up on my head.

"Now, where is my jean jacket?" I asked myself as I rummaged through the box. After about taking everything in the box out I remembered that my mom was wearing it on the trip out here. I ran to the stairs and ascended them two at a time. I made my way to the front door and was stopped by my mother.

"Where's the fire, sweetheart," she asked with a confused expression on her face.

"Just running out to get the jean jacket that you took without my permission," I answered giving her the best fake scowl I could muster before smiling. She punched me lightly in the shoulder and went over to the newly hung coat rack where my jacket was settled. I took it from her, and kissed her on the cheek before exiting the house.

I pulled the jacket over my arms and put down the hood before entering my car and putting on my seatbelt. I looked around for the auxiliary cord to plug my phone into the speakers when there was a tap on my shoulders. I turned to see my mother holding out my glasses to me. I mentally face-palmed and reached for the glasses, I put them on then looked at her and smiled wide.

She looked at me in what I can only say was the most loving way possible, and said, "My handsome man," before walking back towards the house.

I hit shuffle on my phone, and Santogold came over the speakers. I put my head back and just listened as I turned up the bass and started my car. I backed out of our small driveway and began my journey through downtown, the music filling the air as I drove through the now darkening downtown of, whatever this city was called… I should really try to learn the name of this place sooner or later. I passed one coffee house and examined it, deeming it wasn't the kind of thing I was looking for I lit a cigarette and drove on. There goes two, and… three. I was coming up on a coffee house that I was instantly drawn to; call it intuition, or whatever but its where my mind told me to go. So, I pulled into the small messed up parking lot a few lots down from the coffee house and parked my car. I grabbed my raggedy black beanie from the glove box and placed it over the back of my head, just over the tops of my ears, and got out of the car while unplugging my phone from the stereo.

The walk to the coffee joint wasn't too out of the ordinary; I just sort of listened to the things going on around me – Silence mostly, except for the sound of cars slugging by through the busy streets of downtown, and the occasional laugh from friends or people on dates. I entered the coffee house and was hit by a rush of heat and the smell of roasting coffee. Then, music, just the simplest of music by an artist I couldn't place a name on. The look of the place was so hippiesque that it made me smile, I liked this kind of atmosphere, these kinds of people. I walked up to the counter and stood in line behind a guy not much shorter than I, four maybe five inches. He had pretty cool hair is all I could really tell; short on the side and longer on top all messed up like he'd just rolled out of bed, brilliant. My eyes began to wander as I listen to the music. Bless my heart, and bless my soul. I didn't think I'd make it to twenty-two years old. I started to tap my foot and shake my head back and forth when I was brought back by a sound that made my legs quiver.

The guy in front of me had groaned, and was now standing more at an angle than before holding his wallet searching intently for something. "God, it was just in here," he groaned out, his voice making me shake a little in my boots. Low and raspy, yet still full of youth it was excellent, music to my ears really. "It was just here I swear," he said putting his hands on the counter, his head slinking down.

"Let me get that for you," I said smiling, I stepped next to him and looked up at the menu in front of me, "do you mind if I ask you to order something for me too," I asked looking at the boy next to me with a slight smile on my lips.

He just looked at me with a look on his face that almost looked like shock. "No, no. You don't have to do that, it's really alright." He said looking down at the counter again.

"Nope, I'm paying for it, now what's good? I'm thinking something kind of chocolately," I said drawing out the end of the last word. He looked to him and raised an eye brow, smiling slightly as he looked back up at the menu.

"Do you like actual coffee," he asks. I could tell he was really trying to pick a good drink, when he looked up at me I realized that I had been staring at him for quite a while without saying anything. I blushed and looked up at the menu, nodding my head as an answer. "He'll have a Vente Caramel Mocha Latte, James," he said smiling at me," and make sure to put extra whipped cream on top."

"You've got it buddy," the boy I now knew to be James said with a smile.

"How'd you know I liked whipped cream so much," I asked smirking at him, god those eyes. They were this really light brown color, and his eyelashes were thick a long. Phew, is it getting hot in here?

"You just seemed like the kind of guy who would, I guess," he responded holding out his hand to me, "Logan Philip Mitchell, pleasure to meet you," he said with a smile.

I looked his hand over before reaching out and taking it. I took in his whole appearance; he was just, beyond description. He was wearing tight khaki pants, and a grey pair of what I believe to be Doc Martins. His black sweater vest clung to his torso tightly with a red and blue plaid, long sleeve shirt underneath it, and his leather jacket hung well on him as well, "Kendall Donald Knight, its swell meeting you as well," I said with a smile.

"Hey, that rhymed," He said giving my hand a shake, and looking into my eyes.

"Yeah I guess it did, fancy that."

I'm not sure how long we stood there just staring at each other, but I was snapped out of the deepness that is Logan Philip Mitchell by the sound of my name being called out. I paid for the coffee's and turned to Logan with a smile, "Wanna have a seat?"

"Can we sit outside," he questioned taking his drink out of my hands.

"We can sit where ever you please, sir," I stated stretching my arm out toward the door as we began to walk. I walked a little faster and opened the door holding it open for him, he smiled at me and nodded his head in acknowledgement

"How come I've never seen you around before, I mean we only have two high schools here and you can't be any younger than I am," Logan asked before taking a slightly over-cautious sip of his coffee.

"I've actually only lived here in…" I froze up, realizing that I still had no idea what the name of this town was," um, whatever this town is called, for like an hour," I finished before rubbing the back of my neck and taking a gulp of my coffee.

"Oh, so you're totally new," he asked stopping in front of a maroon colored Honda, which I could only assume is his car.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Considering you don't even know the name of this town," he mocked, smiling before taking another cautious sip of his coffee, "No, it's not that obvious."

I chuckled and watched him lean against the hood of the car, I joined him and looked at the store across the street from where we stood, smiling to myself when I noticed it was a head shop. My mother would be glad to hear there was going to be pot around, as well as myself for that matter.

"Where'd you move here from," he asked taking another sip of his coffee.

"Chicago."

"You moved from Chicago to Jamestown, Minnesota," he asked with an apologetic look on his face, "do you miss it so much already? Were your friends sad to see you leave? Why'd you have to move," he asked really fast, running a few of his words together as he ramble them out.

I chuckled; he was adorable, "Uh, not particularly. Didn't really have anyone that I think would be considered a friend, so nothing there to miss. Mom's personal stuff," I listed off nudging him with my shoulder, "did I answer all of them?"

"Yeah, but you answered the last one very vaguely," he smiled pushing me lightly, "care to elaborate?"

"My father died a few years ago, I guess it just got to be too much for her. Everything must've reminded her of him," I rambled out, realizing that I'm just getting into a really personal topic with a guy I didn't know, but I continued, "I had no argument; I knew that it's what she needed to do so I stand behind her one hundred percent."

I looked over at him with a smile; he blushed and looked down at his cup, "I'm sorry, that your dad died, I mean."

"Don't worry about it, the pains dulled."

"Really, that's a really big thing. Most people are devastated for years and years at a time," he said with a confused look on my face.

"Its fine," I said with a reassuring grin, "my father and I were really close, but he taught me that death was totally natural. After he passed I was sad, of course, but I just try to remember that while he was here he made his life a true work of art."

"Oh, well, I'm glad that you're emotionally alright," Logan said with more happiness, he added a small nudge to my shoulder after he had said it.

"Thank you," I said taking another gulp of my coffee, "So where do you go to-"I began to say before I was cut off by my phone screaming at me from my pocket. I looked at him with an apologetic smile and help up a finger. "Hello… Hey, ma… Yeah I found a coffee place, and I made a new friend," I said smiling at Logan who looked up at me with a questioning look.

I raised an eyebrow at him then went back to talking to my mom, "You want me home now… Yeah, sorry, sorry no that's fine… I'll see you in a few… And, I love you, bye." I hung up the phone and slid it into my jacket pocket before looking over at Logan; he still had that look on his face, "What's with the look?"

"You want to be friends… with me?" He asked with a slight nervous tone to his voice.

"Well, of course. Why wouldn't I want to be," I questioned with a reassuring smile.

He smiled, and held out his hand again, "Well, it was nice meeting you, Kendall Donald Knight. Thank you again for paying for my drink, I'll repay you somehow."

I took his hand then shook my head, waving my hand around signaling not to worry about it, "No it was my treat. It's just nice to have met someone tolerable within my first night here. I hope to see you again soon."

Logan reached into the pocket of his leather jacket pulling out a pen. He grabbed my hand and began to write something down on the palm of it, it tickled but I held my resolve choosing to smile at him instead of laughing at the feeling. He finished and capped his pen before walking around to the driver's seat and getting in. He started his car and began to pull out of the small parking lot. I watched as he drove away before reaching into my pocket and pulling out a cigarette, as I sparked my lighter and lifted the flame to my cigarette I noticed the name he had written on my hand. Jamestown.

I chuckled at this before walking over to my car and getting in the driver's side. I put my head back and took a slow drag of my cigarette; maybe this won't be so bad after all.