When Aaron knocked on Logan's door the next evening, there was no answer. Aaron knocked again.
"What?" Logan called from the other side.
Aaron jiggled the doorknob. Locked. "Logan. I need to talk to you."
"Not now."
"Yes, now. Open this door."
Aaron waited, wondering if he was going to have to find a way to unlock the door himself. Finally, Logan opened the door, a scowl on his face.
Sometimes it hit Aaron hard how much Logan looked like Jason: the same eyes, the same stubborn tilt of the chin. Logan, though, was still baby-faced; he hadn't yet hit puberty, so he looked younger than he actually was.
Aaron wrinkled his nose when he shut the door behind him. Logan's room was a pigsty, and it smelled like one, too.
"Logan, it stinks in here," said Aaron, going to the window and openin
