( A/N This story of great adventure can only be properly told with two perspectives. Hopefully you enjoy, ignore typos, I will have to edit.)
Logan P.O.V
Ever since I was adopted I had my life planned out for me by my new parents. My “parents" decided the college I was going to, who I was dating and what I would be when I eventually hit the age of thirty and I already had grey hair. I have lived a very unsatisfying life. No sense of adventure had occurred. I wanted to feel something, I wanted to feel the moment you see in movies. I wanted to have a girl by my side as we watched the sun go down, and I wanted to run in a field and feel like I would never face the impending doom of death and old dreary bones.
I felt as if everything I was doing was never enough. That I could strive to be so much more. I looked in the mirror each morning and thought: My name is Logan and I have not done enough. That was the sentence that motivated me all throughout high school, and I hope that motivation was enough.
On the seventeenth of October, it would be my eighteenth birthday, and also the day I would leave and never look back. That was the big dream, ever since I saw Peter Pan for the first time. Sine I knew the definition of adventure.
On the sixteenth of October it was a Friday and our basketball team had just won a basketball game against our school’s rivals. After every victory we celebrated at Pete’s Big Burger. As I pulled into Pete’s with my friends I looked around and took it all in, I wouldn't miss any of this.
My town lived under a clockwork schedule. No one stayed out too late and everyone was at church on Sunday morning. My town would cause uproar when I leave, and that’s the way I wanted to leave as a mystery. I wanted to leave the town in a cliffhanger they will never solve. They will never know why I, Logan Spence, the wealthy, basketball star would ever want to leave the sanctity of the perfect town where nothing bad ever happens.
Jack, the captain of the team, opened the door for his girlfriend (whom I cannot name because his type changes every weekend) and I cannot help but think he has already became a victim of this town. I felt bad for him, I knew he would never aspire to his full potential. The people around me were all too familiar. Some conform to the familiarity as a certain blanket that was all to comfortable to ever leave, on the other hand to me the familiarity felt like an unwanted cool breeze.
The days spent at Pete’s were days well spent I will admit. I will not go on to lie and say I was miserable all of my time in this town. I met people who crafted me into what I am today. My friends were the greatest group of people and the most supportive. I knew what I had decided to do was a selfish deed, but a deed that must be fulfilled. I promised myself and Peter Pan.
I sat down in a booth with Jack and mystery girl. Jack had his arm draped over her and we were joined by my friend Colin. They all started to eat and I watched as they exchange laughs over something stupid that the teacher did today, and I joined in.
“Do you guys ever think of what happens when you hit thirty?” I said, as I stole a handful of fries from Colin.
“What do you mean?” Jack said with a full mouth of Pete’s top selling burger in the tristate area.
“I mean do you think we will be remembered?”
“Hell yeah if we win state!” Colin screamed as he fist bumped Jack.
“What about when you’re old what are you going to tell your kid? ‘Well son for all of my teenage life I went to Pete’s and played basketball and fucked too many girls.’” I said, which gained me a weird glance from mystery girl.
“What are you saying? That none of this matters? Dude you think too much.” The conversation ended there.
When we left Pete’s, I realized that they would turn back onto that conversation and think that I was and still am insane. It didn’t matter I would find my adventure.
Pulling into the driveway of my house, I found the living room light on. I turned off the ignition and mentally prepared myself for the annual birthday lecture. They all began the same, with Karen crying and Scott telling me how much more responsibility I would gain over the next year.
Opening the door to my car and walking to the front door I smiled and realized this would be the last time I would open the door to enter the house.
Karen was sitting on the couch already crying and Scott was standing at the fireplace like a stereotypical dad. I looked at the two people who raised me like their own even when they already had a child.
Their biological daughter Jordan would be their last chance at success since I already set in my mind to leave. Jordan was a spitting image of her parents, blonde hair and blue eyes. Then there was me, brown messy hair and green eyes.
The situation with Karen and Scott has always been as awkward as it would be in the situation. They adopted me thinking they could never have children and a few years later bam a newborn. I would go on and say I was the normal “I don’t have a mom” adoptive kid, but it was never like that. Karen and Scott just seemed like guardians whom kept tabs on me. They cared about me they really did, enough to help with tough teenage life. I grew up knowing I didn't really have parents, just really good friends who helped raise me and sometimes ground me.
Karen ambushed me with hugs as tears streamed down her face, Scott joined in on the hug. The emotion was just enough to make me cry. The next hour was spent with lectures and tears on responsibility. Before I marched upstairs to shower then sleep I hugged both Karen and Scott just a little bit tighter and said “I love you” with a little bit more emotion. I would march up the stairs and sleep until four in the morning, then I would leave for good.
After showering I went into my room and got out the map I had of the United States since I was seven and marked everywhere I wanted to go with a red X. Most of the map was covered in red marks. I reached over and opened the nightstand, I felt around to the top of the compartment and felt the envelope. I had letters upon letters that would sent periodically to Karen and Scott. I have been writing them since my birthday last year. Along in the drawer was a shoe box. It had money saved from all the odd jobs I did around town. I found the duffle bag I packed the night before and shoved the map, the money, and the letters all into it.
Then I heard a voice at the door,
“Logan?” It was Jordan, she reminded me of the little girl from Grinch when she was tired, she had the blonde hair to match it “What are you doing with the bag?”
Jordan was six and I knew how easy it would be to trick her. I took it to my advantage, “I’m going to spend the night at a friends house tomorrow! I just got so excited I packed early.” I said as I knelled down to Jordan.
“Oh, I sure will miss you.”
That’s the only time I ever questioned leaving, I knew that my greatest weakness would be Jordan, she would be the only reason I would ever return.
“I’ll miss you too.” Then she was gone. I was alone in my room and found sleep easy.
