Logan Campbell

          I heard him knock while Vanessa and I were making margaritas in the kitchen. I ran through our apartment to answer the door, but when I flung it open I saw him in the parking lot climbing into his car. I waved and called his name but he didn't hear me and left. On the door, he had taped a note.
          I walked into the house where Vanessa was coaxing the margaritas from the blender. "Who was that?" she asked, licking the excess from her finger.
          "Logan Campbell," I replied, reading the note. "He needs to see me in the coffee shop in an hour to talk about something very important."
          "Huh," she replied, handing me a glass. "Wy didn't he just stay here and discuss it with you?"
          "I don't know. You know Logan. He's a strange guy." We went into the living room and collapsed onto the couch.
          "Stephanie? Is Logan still seeing that girl?" Vanessa pulled the socks from her feet and wiggled her toes on our bright red sofa. "Because he's pretty cute and I haven't been on a date in a while."
          I wrinkled my brow. "Logan? He isn't your type at all." He really wasn't. Vanessa preferred the tall, dark and handsome and Logan really wasn't any of those. He was tall, but thin with messy blonde hair and green eyes.
          "I don't know," she smiled. "I like his grin. I think his crooked teeth are cute. Isn't that weird?"
          "Yes." I finished my drink and stood. "I need to change so I can go and find him."
          She saluted me with her drink as I went into my room and changed from my pajamas. Vanessa and I had planned to make drinks and watch romantic comedies that night, but cryptic notes from Logan had changed all that. I waved to her on my way out and hopped into my car, headed for the coffee shop.
          I made it to his location of choice, a Starbucks in the middle of the downtown area, right at the specified time. I bought a cappucino and patiently waited for him. I saw all of our friends wandering around but there was no sign of Logan. I did see our friend Danny sitting in the corner, so I walked by to say hi.
          "Hey, Danny." I said, smiling and sinking into the armchair across from him. "How's it going?"
          "Hey, Steph! I don't usually see you out his way. Everything's going good. What's up?"
          "Looking for Logan."
          "Logan? Campbell or Boyd?" He stirred sugar into his drink and looked at me with wide eyes.
          "Campbell. I don't even know Logan Boyd."
          "Ohhh," Danny said, settling into his chair. "He's NEW to the scene. He showed up two weeks ago thinking that he's the most amazing guitarist ever. Walked right up to Irving in his own warehouse and said he'd be a big asset to his new band. Appalling. The most horrendous part is that the Irv let him in."
          "Really," I mused. Chris Irving was notoriously picky about his bandmates. So picky, in fact, that few people in town had even auditioned for his band. "He plays guitar, huh?"
          "Yeah. Apparently he's really good. It was really rough on Logan Campbell because he was burning to be in the Irv's band. But Campbell's skills are... questionable at best. You know?"
          "Yep." Logan prided himself on his guitar playing, which was slightly above mediocre. No one had the heart to tell him that he wasn't very good.
          Danny shook his head with disgust. "He didn't even audition for Chris' band this time, just talked about it for weeks. You know, Steph, if you ever have a band, keep it pure. With the locals. We've grown up together. Were you at the show a couple years ago when Irving and Logan's band played the Rum Shack?"
          I shook my head. "I didn't even know that Irving and Logan had ever played in a band together."
          He nodded emphatically. "Yeah. I don't remember what they were called. They only played for a couple of months. But one night, they were over at the Rum Shack playing their very first show. So they're all set up and starting the set, when this guy starts jeering them realy loudly. Now the Irv just ignores them, but Logan starts to shout back. Screaming 'hey! shut up! We're trying to play a goddamn song!'"
          He paused to laugh at the memory and continued. "So Irving is trying to get Logan to be quiet and play the song, but Logan is trying to impress the Irv by silencing the heckler. It was pissing funny. So the guy in the bar didn't stop and Logan ended up dropping his guitar and starting a fight! This little srawny kid in a Salvation Army t-shirt trying his very best to hold his own against a big frat guy. Priceless."
          "Wow, what did Irving say?" I wondered aloud. I could definitely see Logan trying to beat up a heckler at one of his shows. He didn't like rude people at all.
          "Oh, Irving was irate. That was the end of their band right there. When they were busting down the stage set, he was chewing Logan out the whole time. They didn't speak for a long time after that. Years. And Logan got to walk around with a black eye and a huge knot on his forehead for a while after that. He wouldn't show his face in the Rum Shack either. Good times." Danny grinned and sipped his drink.
          "I wonder why I wasn't there," I mused. I had been hanging out with the kids in the local music scene for years. I knew all the bands, the singers, everyone.
          "I think, if I remember correctly, that you were wrapped up in some boyfriend. 'Cause Vanessa was there. She helped Logan clean up and break down his equipment."
          "Maybe. So have you seen Logan tonight?"
          Danny nodded. "Sure. He was here earlier. You just missed him by a minute or two. But I knew he was heading to Greg's house to pick up a distortion pedal. You can probably catch him, Greg only lives a block away. You've been to his apartment?"
          "Yeh, a couple times. Oky, I'm going to try to catch up with Logan. I'll see you later."
          "Bye Steph."
          I waved to Danny as I pulled out of the parking lot. The drive to Greg's house was short and I ran up to his door and knocked loudly. He opened it wearing a beanie and nerdy glasses with thick black frames. "Hey Steph!" He threw his arms around me. "What's up?"
          He ushered me inside. "I'm looking for Logan and Danny told me that he was on his way here."
          "Sit down, sit down," he said, motioning to the couch. I sat down and he picked up a copy of the local music magazine that circulated every month or so. "Did you see this shit? Chris Irving's band is in it again."
          "I don't think I've ever even seen his band. Are they any good?"
          "No," Greg replied. "They're 'critically acclaimed' but they have no fans. They put out a CD with a couple songs on it a few months ago and it got written up in this magazine and in the newspaper. But they can't move any copies of it at their shows. So they're saddled with five hundred LPs that aren't selling!" He laughed.
          "Who do they play shows with? Because I go to most of them and I've never seen his new band."
          "They're so pretentious," Greg spat. "That they refuse to do shows with other bands. So they're always playing tiny bars that don't mind a one-band bill. Losers."
          I didn't respond and there were several moments of awkward silence. Greg and I aren't especially close so I often run out of things to say to him. "So Logan isn't here anymore?"
          "Nope. He picked up my distortion pedal for Ed and flew right out of here. I think Ed's band is playing over at the Monterey and he forgot his pedal. So since I live right here, he sent Logan over to borrow mine."
          "Weird," I muttered. "Because Logan left me a note to meet him at the coffee shop, where I ran into Danny. He was the one that told me Logan was coming here."
          "Logan left you a note? What did it say?"
I bit my lower lip. "That he had to talk to me about something important. I can't imagine what would be so important to Logan though."
          Greg nodded. "He's very cavalier about everything. That's why his phone never works and his electric is always shut off. He doesn't worry about the bills. That's also why he got kicked out of the Irv's band that one time. He was always late to rehearsals and forgot about shows. That thing at the Rum Shack was really the last straw."
          I stood abruptly. "Okay, I'm going to go over to the Monterey and find Logan. I'm getting very curious as to what he wanted to tell me and trying to track him down is getting old."
          "I know, right?" Steve agreed. He stood and walked me to the door. "We should get that kid a cell phone. Don't bother driving to the Monterey. There's no parking. You might as well walk."
          "Thanks for the tip," I replied, heading to the bar on foot. It wasn't a strenuous walk and I heard the chatter of people long before it came into view.
          I immediately recognized everyone there, but they were a different breed. My friends were into punk music while these kids were dirt rockers. They wore Metallica t-shirts and had torn jeans. Late eighties nostalgia at its height. Logan was fairly diverse about his musical preference and he was friends with everyone in every sect of the local scene.
          I found Ed and tapped him on the shoulder impatiently. "Hey, Ed. I'm looking for Logan. Has he dropped off the distortion pedal yet?"
          Ed smiled through his mess of tangled brown hair. "Yeah, he did." His Motley Crue t-shirt was old and worn and his jeans were being held together with patches. "Are you going to stick around for the show?"
          "Probably not," I said with false regret. "I really need to ind Logan."
          "Well, here, at least take a t-shirt. We just had them printed up." He handed me an oversize black t-shirt with their band logo silk-screened across it.
          "Thanks. Did Logan tell you where he was going?"
          "No, but the kid was getting all jittery, so I'm guessing he went over to Starbucks for a caffeine fix. Every few hours he needs an espresso. Poor guy. If he really wanted a jump start, he'd start snorting."
          My eyes widened at the thought of Logan on coke and I looked around to all of the strung out dirt rockers. "Okay, thanks Ed. Good luck tonight."
          I walked back to Greg's house, picked up my car and headed to Starbucks once more. I drove over there with no small amount of impatience. I pulled into the parking lot and stalked up to the store,where I recognized Logan standing in line.
          I pulled the door open. "Jesus. Logan, I've been tracking you for the past hour. What's the important thing you have to tell me?" Logan turned around and, to my disappointment, it turned out to be Chris Irving. "Oh, hey Chris."
          "Looking for Logan, I take it?" Chris looked just like him with his newly dyed blonde hair and black-framed glasses.
          "Yeah, I've been searching for a while." I don't know why Chris made me so uncomfortable.
          "Well, he'e been stalking me all night, so if you stick close to me, you're guaranteed to find him."
          I made no effort to hide my rolling eyes. "Why the hell would Logan be stalking you? He left me a note to meet him here an hour ago and he never showed."
          "He's be stalking me," Chris said, his patronizing tone in full effect. "Because he auditioned for my band nd I haven't told him f I'm letting him in or not."
          I put my hand on my hip, indignant on behalf of the rest of Chris' band. He didn't bother to pretend the band was a democracy. "Okay, I heard from Danny that Logan didn't audition for your band. So did he or not?"
          "Um, yes he did. And he did a great job and the next time he pops up from wherever he's hiding I'll tell him he's in."
          I sighed. "But I thought that after the deal with the Rum Shack incident you guys weren't going to play in the same band anymore."
          Chris looked at me like I was even more stupid that he'd originally anticipated. "What are you talking about? The only 'Rum Shack incident' I recall involved Logan Campbell."
          My jaw dropped. "That's who I'm talking about!"
          "Oh," he replied, completely nonplussed. "I'm talking about Logan Boyd. No way would I be in a band with Logan Campbell. He sucks."
          I suppressed the many comments that echoed in my head and stormed right out the door and into Logan. "Finally," I muttered. "Jesus, Logan. Where have you been? What do you need to tell me about?"
          Logan looked around nervously. "I think I did something stupid."
          "Not surprised. What did you do?"
          He wrung his hands. "Do you know that new kid, Logan Boyd?" I nodded and he continued. "Well, I ran into him at the Monterey where I went to see Ed's band. And he was being a dick about how he gets to be in a band with Chris Irving. So he kind of tripped- or was pushed- off the sidewalk and he fell into the street."
          "Okay, no harm no foul. You pushed him, big deal."
          "Well, when I pushed him, he fell into the street and hit his head. He was unconscious."
          "Oh, geez. Did you call an ambulance or anything?"
          He pressed his lips together. "No, not exactly. He'd been so rude about everything that... I kind of..."
          "What? Left him there?"
          "Put him in the trunk of my car."
          Oh, geez.