Logan has his eyes towards the ground, deep in thought. He is still trying to figure out how that cheerleader had made him feel. It was a complex emotion, that he knows for sure, but what? Perhaps he'd have to do research upon returning home. His head has never felt this full before, these feelings are starting to overwhelm him. His heart is still trying to slow down from the whole ordeal. All he wants right now was to get in his car, drive home, and then write in his journal. Logan definitely has more than usual to say. From being dragged to a football game to seeing someone that made his heart race, his evening has been full of surprises.

It seems like staring at the ground isn't a great idea because Logan collides with something very corporeal. He winces as he hits the ground, his glasses falling off and clattering onto the concrete somewhere. The student body president can't even start to get off the asphalt before a sweet voice is speaking to him.

"Oh, my! Are you okay?" the boy asks, offering a hand to Logan. He gladly takes it, not being able to see who it is as his glasses are somewhere in the parking lot.

Groaning, he rubs the bruise now forming on his head and re-adjusts his scarf. "Apologies, my mind was elsewhere." Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs exasperatedly. "Do you happen to see my glasses? They must have gotten knocked off during my fall."

The blue blob in his vision dips down and Logan can swear he's seen that color before, that beautiful sky blue, but where? The blob comes back and the stranger hands him his cold glasses. "Warby Parkers huh? That's so cool! We're twinsies!"

Logan rubs some of the grit off of his glasses and places them carefully onto his face, then looks up at the friendly stranger. His heart rate accelerates the moment Logan recognizes that the boy standing in front of him is none other than the male cheerleader, or rather the Cheer Captain, Patton. He knows, from watching Virgil interact with Roman and from what he's heard, that staring at someone that is attractive isn't acceptable. It isn't ever really acceptable, but it's worse if that person might be able to pick apart the stare and deduce the true meaning behind it, and one look at Patton and Logan can tell he's exactly that kind of teen.

At least, that's what Logan has interpreted. He's never been able to experience any of this since this is the first time he's ever thought he might like someone in that way. It doesn't take long for Logan to realize that he's doing the exact thing he shouldn't do. Stare at the cute cheerleader.

Logan clears his throat. "Yes, uh... I suppose we are what you call twinsies." He says, trying to find something to do with his hand other than moving them. This nervousness isn't a typical feeling for the logical teen, so he has no idea what to do next. He ends up shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans but then takes one out so he won't seem closed off. Why has he forgotten how to function like a normal human being? Do normal human beings usually feel these kinds of feelings? It's possible that at some point Logan really had lost the ability to analyze the reactions of the human body.

He'd watched Virgil drool over Roman from a distance for weeks but that was nothing like this. Sure, the anxious teen seemed like a constant mess of nerves and dark eyeshadow, but he was never so consumed by outward appearance like this, was he? Perhaps he was. Come to think of it, Logan had seen many times when Virgil had fussed over his clothing choices and even straightened Logans own tie out of sheer need to seem presentable, but he was able to apply a cool exterior most of the time while talking to others, most of the time being around 74% of the time because Logan found that there were numerous occasions in which he had had to calm the teen after or sometimes during a social encounter, but it is illogical that he can't find the energy or focus to apply these techniques to himself in this very moment-

"Is your head okay? It looked like you took a nasty fall a few seconds ago." The cheerleader says, still smiling happily at Logan. His sweet voice is both calming and confusing, and Logan can't quite seem to latch onto a grounding point with that voice throwing him off, so instead, he tries to revert back to his stable base: knowledge. He knows that he knows what he knows and he knows that he can say that without making a complete fool of himself in front of... Patton.

"Yes, it does not seem like I fell hard enough for a concussion of any kind. I will simply go home and put ice on it. Going to a medical profession does not seem necessary." Logan says, looking down at the ground instead of the cheerleader in front of him. He tries his best to reign in his tongue and cut off any tangents his mind flickers to. It is something that Virgil said he often does, and in all honesty, Logan is trying to work on it, but following through is all but impossible in such a troubling situation as this. He sighs and sticks his hand out for a formal greeting. "I'm Logan."

The cheerleader nods his head enthusiastically as he takes Logan's hand to shake it. "I know who you are! You're the Student Body President. You start off every assembly with the Pledge of Allegiance! I'm Patton."

"It's very nice to meet you," Logan says, subtly rubbing his palms on the rough marital of his dark jeans. He doesn't want to leave, but he is running out of things to say, and his parents are going to be... not concerned by his lateness, perhaps closer to disappointed, but that isn't important right now. This situation is like a ticking time bomb and Logan knows the longer he stands here the closer he becomes to an action that he can't reverse. Logan has never been good at small talk. He preferred to get straight to the big issue on hand. And right now, that's leaving. However, before he can walk away, Patton speaks up again.

"Hey, could I have your number, Logan?" He asks, catching the logical teen off guard. Not that he'd been prepared for any of this conversation in the first place. Logan stands there, rigid as a board. Logan is starting to think that his heart will beat out of his chest, even though he knows that is impossible. "Just so I can make sure your head is fine. I'd hate to have to hear it from someone else if something went wrong and it actually was a concussion."

Logan nods, ignoring the bundle of warmth bursting in his chest at the teen's concern for his well being. He pulls his phone out of his pocket just like he'd seen Virgil do only minutes ago. He's never done this before and is hoping this is the proper way to give someone his number. Patton takes it from him, entering his name and number before handing the phone back to Logan. With an internal sigh of relief, Logan takes the proffered item in hand and looks at the small text on the screen. He smiles at the contact name Patton had entered, 'Pat :)'. Already the number burned into his memory, along with the remembrance of that sunny smile, even in the pale light hues of the moon.

"There ya go! And I texted myself 'hey' so I'll have your number too!" Patton says, his warm tone making Logan feel a little more at ease. "So, I'll see you around?"

"That is probable," Logan says, giving Patton a small smile. "Thank you for giving me your ten digits. I will make sure to use them later. Have a nice night, Patton."

After getting in the car, Logan groans and lays his head back to rest on the headrest. He is so screwed.