With sweeping blonde hair, sky blue eyes, and the muscular torso of a major league baseball player Logan Patterson was Rollins High most popular student and top athlete. Practically every college wanted him to play for them in the fall, but his heart was set on USC. His life was planned out to every last minute: USC, MLB, start his own charity foundation, and then retirement. “Patterson you’re up.” He grabbed his bat and helmet and headed out to the on deck circle. Rollins High was down by one to their cross town rival Franklin High. He took a few practice swings as he watched his best friend Grant Sanders hit a double into far center field. He slowly walked up to the plate and paused. The sounds around him were all too familiar: the sound of his father’s deep raspy voice saying “Here comes the kid everyone came to see” to the scout next to him, the sound of the other team taunting him from the mound, the crowd chanting his name. This was it the moment that everyone had been waiting for, bottom of the 9th inning, they were counting on him to win the game and he loved the thrill of knowing the whole game was riding on his shoulders. He swung his bat with all his might just as the eighty-five mph fast ball came hurling at him. He ran to first base not bothering to watch how far the ball went, he could tell by the crowd’s mighty roar that he had hit a home run to win the game. He rounded home and dived into his team’s traditional game winning dog pile. As the crowd began to part and the team slowly filed out of the stadium Grant grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “So Ronny is having that party tonight and I think we should go.” “We have an 8am practice tomorrow; do you really think a party is a good idea?” “No, but we’re teenagers, we’re not supposed to have good ideas.” He said with a wink. “Fine” He laughed. “But not too late”

Logan stumbled out the front door of an unfamiliar house. Who even lived here? He thought. Oh, yeah Ronny, Ronny who? He decided it didn’t matter. He couldn’t think straight the sound of blaring music from inside the house had his ears constantly ringing. He searched his pockets for his keys and began to slowly walk down the driveway. He fell into the front lawn that was scattered with red plastic cups. Crap, he was drunk. He reached for his cell phone and began to dial his father’s number, but stopped on instinct. If his dad found out he was drunk especially the night before an early morning practice he would ground him for a month. He searched the street until he found his 2005 Chevy truck that he had got a little over a week ago as a temporary car while his SUV was in the shop getting repairs. He started up the truck and slowly pulled away from the crib and turned down on to a back road that would eventually lead him to his house. He knew it was wrong to drive home drunk, but he couldn’t have his parents knowing he had been drinking. Who was it going to hurt if he drove home drunk this one time? It’ll be okay just this once. What time was it? He looked at the clock on the dashboard. 12:46 am. He’d be home before one and could slip in through his bedroom window before his parents noticed that he had been out all night. He reached to put in his favorite CD into the player when the sound of a blaring car horn startled him. He yanked the steering wheel to his right, but it was too late.

Logan woke up on a small two lane road just outside the suburbs of Greensboro. The night was quiet, so quiet in fact that it scared him. What had happened? He guided his hand up to the side of his head that was stinging with pain. He felt a thick liquid, he was bleeding. He rose to his feet and inspected his surroundings. His temporary Chevy truck his dad bought him last week was raised in the air at an awkward angle. He made his way to the truck; he could barely make out a medium sized SUV underneath the truck wheels. He had hit someone. “Hello?!” he called. “Anyone! Hello!” No answer. “HELLO!!” he called at the top of his lungs. Still no answer. He bent down and searched for any sign of human life underneath the truck and saw a hand. He reached for it. “If you’re alive please just say something!” The night remained silent. He saw a familiar hat on the ground and ran for it hoping it would help him identify who had been in the accident. Pacific Prep Falcons Baseball the hat read. He had killed a student at Pacific Prep. He just stared at the hat in his hands; it was then that he realized he was crying. He hadn’t cried this hard since the 6th grade when he broke his arm and realized he would be out for the whole season. Not knowing what else to do he ran to the truck and kicked in the window. He grabbed everything. His wallet, mitt, identification form the glove compartment, backpack, and all his CDs. He chucked the trucks keys into a nearby lake and stuffed the hat he found in his backpack and ran. He ran like he had never run before nearly missing the turn onto his street. He climbed up the tree in his backyard and quietly made his way into his bedroom. The blood from the gash in his head had stopped bleeding, but he still wrapped in the gauze from his baseball bag. He ripped off his blood stained button down dress shirt and khaki pants. He rushed down the stair and threw his clothes into the almost burned out fire place. He couldn’t keep the clothes, he had to burn them. He couldn’t let anyone know what had just happened, not even Grant. It would ruin his chances to go to college and ever play baseball in the big leagues. He had to try and sleep, he had practice in….he glanced at the clock. Four hours. Sleep would make everything better, yes that’s what he needed sleep, it was all a dream he decided as he crawled into bed.
Logan woke up with a furious pounding on his bedroom door. “Logan Mitchell Patterson! Open this door right now! Damn it Logan, open this door now!” Logan swung his feet over the side of his bed and made his way to the door. “You missed practice!” his father bellowed as he opened the door. He checked the clock on his bed side table. 11:34 am it read. “Why? What was so important that you had to miss-“his father stopped short. “What happened to your head?” He realized that he was still wearing the gauze from the night before. “I uh…I hit it last night on a table at the party” he lied. “I knew you shouldn’t have gone to that party! Well this is no excuse to miss a workout, be ready in 10 minutes we’re going to the gym”
The Greensboro gym was practically like home to Logan for his entire sports career. A place where he could come and clear his head of all of the everyday distractions every teenager has to deal with, but today he felt like a fish out of water. The wall of TVs had been running the Channel 6 News on an endless loop except for the TV in front of Logon which played the Dodgers and Red Sox game. “That’s just horrible” his dad muttered in a low voice. “What?” he asked pulling his attention away from the game “Mayor Edwards and his son Jonathan were hit and killed by a drunk driver last night on their way home from the Driving Safety Charity Ball” Logan felt the color drain from his face. “Do they know who did it?” he squeaked. “No, the coward hit and ran even stripping his truck of all identification, even his licenses plates!” Logan picked up a nearby remote and cranked the volume up on the TV. “The person who did this was expected to be a teenage coming home from a party on Cunningham Avenue. Once found the person who did this will be arrested on accounts of manslaughter, driving while intoxicated, and fleeing the crime scene.” Arrested, the word echoed endlessly in his ears. His heart began to beat a mile a minute and his knees grew weak. “Dad I don’t feel so good, can we go?” “Sure son. Is your head bothering you? I can take you to the doctor or-““No! I think I just need to rest.” “Okay get in the car, there is a surprise for you at home anyway.” As they drove the whole city seemed to be mourning the loss of Mayor Edwards and his son. Signs everywhere read “Justice for Edwards” and “R.I.P to the best mayor this city has ever known.” As the drove by Pacific Prep the schools usual glow had seemed to fade. The only thing that stood out was a giant sign that read “R.I.P. Jonathan Edwards (15) Pacific Prep’s most beloved baseball player” Jonathan played baseball? They weren’t scheduled to play Pacific Prep until the end of May so he wasn’t familiar with who was on the team. He was so deep into his thoughts that he didn’t notice his white Surban SUV sitting in the driveway. “Ta dah! It’s fixed just in time for districts Monday. You earned it the way you played on Friday, where’s the Chevy?” “Wow, thanks dad. It’s at Grant’s house” he lied. “You can drive it to Grant’s if you’d like” his dad suggested. “Maybe later, I just need to lie down” he squeaked as he made his way up the stairs into his bedroom. He shut his door and pulled out his laptop and typed Death of Greensboro Mayor and Son into the Google search bar. Immediately pictures of Mayor Edwards giving speeches and attending charity events filled the screen. Pictures of Jonathan playing baseball and hanging with his friends popped up as he scrolled farther down the page. He stopped on a picture of Jonathan in his baseball uniform grinning from ear to ear. Logan reached for his backpack and pulled out the hat he found the night before, it was identical to the one in the picture. He began to cry, he cried so hard that he felt like he was going to throw up. In fact he did throw up. He couldn’t deal with the reality of his mistake. He had made one mistake and killed two people, he had killed the mayor! No, this couldn’t be true his life was planned out to every last detail: USC, MLB, charity, retire. Nowhere in there did his plan include jail. He can’t turn himself in; it would ruin everything that he ever worked for, his future. He wasn’t going to confess, he couldn’t.
As Monday rolled around Logan was no longer the same Logan Patterson with perfect image, perfect sports career, or a perfect life. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair remained uncombed, and his face began to develop a five o’clock shadow. The guilt was eating him alive from the inside out. The Edward’s death was all anyone could talk about. He felt as the school day went on he was just going through the motions. Grant had tried to talk to him about the game during homeroom, but he couldn’t remember a word he said, the pep assembly to fire up the team seemed to cheer everyone up but him. He couldn’t take it anymore he was going to turn himself in after school.
When the final bell rang at the he made his way past the crowds of people wishing him good luck tonight. If only they knew that he was about to throw it all away. What would they say about him then? “Logan!” He turned around to see Coach Sampson walk his way. “Logan okay, I know there is a lot of pressure on you tonight, but I just wanted you to know that the USC scout will be there tonight. He’s coming to see you specifically and he’s prepared to offer you a full ride!” For the first time in days, Logan smiled. “That’s great! I’ll be sure to play my best” No way I’m turning myself in with USC coming tonight he thought. USC was what his family always dreamed of, his father’s alma mater.
It was 5:30. He had to be at the game in thirty minutes. He grabbed his bag and headed down stairs. “This has officially been declared a murder investigation” said the news reporter on TV. Water formed in the corner of his eyes. “Mom will you turn that off?! I don’t wanna hear about their stupid deaths anymore! They’re dead who the hell cares?!” “I’m sorry….I just…I’ll turn it off” his mother gawked at him with awestruck eyes. He grabbed his car keys and made his way out of the house slamming the front door in the process, but not before he heard his mother utter a small “See you at the game Sweetie.” As he drove down the street the headlines of the past weekend went through his mind like an endless slideshow. He tried to shake it off. His life was planned out USC, MLB, charity, retirement. That was the plan that had always been the plan. Not jail, but his guilty was consuming him like a black hole; he had ended not one life, but two. He couldn’t shake the feeling as he pulled into the parking lot. He climbed out of the SUV and slowly made his way to the double doors in front of him. This was it the moment that would change his life. All eyes were on him as he opened his mouth and said “My name is Logan Patterson and I am responsible for the Edward’s death.”