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“I’m sorry about last summer. If I could do it over—“
Spanning years and continents. Ruined lives. Blood shed. Epic.
“You really think a relationship should be that hard?”
She didn’t. The summer proved that.
“No one writes songs about the ones that come easy.”
Voice thick. The way it was whenever he said her name.
She really did like this song.
He straddled the bench, facing her. His hand gripped the neck of the bottle tightly. He moved deliberately closer and she was deliberately stuck. Uncomfortable.
They were both sweating.
He was always unflinching when he was drunk. So deliberate. That’s the word she would use for him. He would stare and those deep eyes would swallow her.
He had no right being so expectant. No god damn right at all.
She let him swallow her.
She let him consume her.
Had it been just another joke to him? Just another stupid quip, just another way to cover up everything that was never said between them.
They had danced together. It wasn’t prom, but what the hey. Sadie Hawkins seemed more her speed anyway. But had it been another joke? Had he really dreamed about her? Had he really even considered some stupid song from an eighties movie?
The answer was a definitive no. Asking herself that was just another form of lying. I’ve Had the Time of My Life made no difference because there was an abyss between them and that would never change.
Don’t look in his eyes. Never look in his eyes because that was always where she went wrong.
The abyss would never change.
And he swallowed her.
She did it wrong. She looked into his eyes.
She really hoped Dick wasn’t coming back to check on his chances with her because now it was an infinity-googleplex to one.
She had kissed Logan first and now she was infinitely screwed.
In all sense of the word.
She had kissed him first.
The way he gestured when he said that one word. Epic. Like he was frustrated. Frustrated that she didn’t understand, that she didn’t agree with him, that she could never understand or feel what he did.
She felt him fuel all that frustration into her.
Epic.
She loved this song. And if Dick actually had come over to check on his chances, Veronica wouldn’t have even noticed. That was the bad thing.
Everything was different now. In place of the white dress, she wore black. Shelly Pomroy’s became Logan Echoll’s, and she had never been more sober in her life.
She knew the same couldn’t be said for him. Logan was sweating out the champagne on top of her and she could barely keep up. She was suddenly starkly reminded of if the cuddling was the best part, he didn’t do it right.
He didn’t do it right. As though the fault couldn’t be left with her. It was Duncan who was inadequate and tranquil.
And yet again, the same could not be said for Logan.
Her hands slid on his slippery shoulders, nails taking away skin in flakes. When at first his voice was full of compliments and loving endearments she couldn’t remember him ever saying, those were laid at the wayside. Now he was quiet, only concentrating so intently, his breaths heaving out of his chest in harsh pants and the occasional groan.
Veronica could barely keep up. The front of her strapless dress pushed down, her skirt bunched up. Only when he looked into her eyes did she forget. Her nails dug into his arms with one final gasp and suddenly, she knew exactly what he had been talking about in the hotel corridor.
Duncan hadn’t done it right.
Her father was going to shoot someone.
Of that, Veronica was certain. It was four in the morning and she was not in her own bed. She was still in a hotel room, her black dress sticking to her. This time, she understood why her underwear was on the floor and who had put it there. That was a relief. But it was the only relief she was like to get.
It was morning and if her father found Logan, he was going to shoot him.
Veronica pulled her dress back over her chest as gracefully as she could. Logan’s white jacket was strewn over the back of the chair. He stirred and she cursed inwardly. It didn’t seem to be in her luck that she would be spared this humiliation.
Her semi-formal hair was now in disarray and that was the least of her problems. She pushed it back from her shoulders, preparing herself for the worst.
The look.
“Hi.”
His voice was thick. She didn’t think he could still possibly be drunk, but he was still looking at her in that intoxicating way and those things couldn't be mutually exclusive. Veronica smoothed her dress over her thighs. She couldn’t remember where her shoes went.
She wished he would put a shirt on.
“My dad—“
“Got it.”
He wasn’t looking at her anymore. There was a finality in his voice. He knew her better than she would like to believe. She always ran. That was their pattern. Either that or blame him for murdering someone.
How he could be so severe and strong in his convictions one minute, and then wounded and vulnerable the next would always be a mystery to her. Whoever heard of the sensitive bad boy?
Then again, she supposed it hadn’t been just a minute. One minute would be her kissing him and then leaving immediately. Better still, not even kissing him at all and making her absence very clear.
But she hadn’t done any of those things. It hadn’t been a minute. A minute passed to two, to three, to half an hour in the hallway. She couldn’t have cared less about the party, somehow. Instead he had shrugged out of his jacket and made her feel something that she had no conception of.
Now it just felt awkward. She needed to collect her thoughts. Why that hadn’t happened three hours ago was something she would question for a long time to come.
“I could give you a ride.”
Those stupid eyes.
Not to mention how worse it would be if her father saw her being driven home at four in the morning in an obnoxious yellow Xterra.
“I’m sorry.” Veronica had found her shoes.
Logan was still on the bed, sans shirt – of course. But he wasn’t looking at her again.
“I’m just not ready to dive back into anything.” She waited at the door for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. She gripped her bag in her hand.
And Logan stood up.
“What I said last night—“ he said insistently.
He tried. He would try everything he could and Veronica just couldn’t let him.
“About our relationship being epic,” Veronica finished. His eyes were glassy.
Hopes dashed.
Veronica opened the door. She paused for a moment before she left.
“There are still continents."
And then she was gone.
“You a bounty hunter boy?”
Veronica had always been the one to laugh at those who tried to bring high school romances to college. That had never been a concern that applied to her. Her first boyfriend ran away with his dead ex-girlfriend’s baby. And any other boyfriends she had certainly didn’t count after she ditched them on prom night after a night of coitus and dodged them all summer.
This never was going to be a concern of hers. It was out of the realm of possibility.
Serendipitously running into said ex-boyfriend at a college you had never intended on attending was also on the list of Out of the Realm of Possibility.
Serendipity had it out for her.
Logan grinned at her in that way he only did when he was drinking and/or had caught her in a compromising position – which was every position when it came to them.
He knocked back his drink.
It was both of those things, apparently.
“Did you break up with Easy Rider for Clint Eastwood?” Veronica asked seamlessly. That caused him to grin again and she wished that she could control herself. It was obvious that neither of them could avoid the banter.
“Well, you know,” he sighed, “got to break up with someone after all this karma I’ve earned. It can’t be good for me to keep being the one that gets dumped.”
“I pray for your eternal soul,” Veronica retorted.
He put a hand to his heart mockingly. “I’m touched. I thought you were condemning it to eternal damnation.”
He was taking it a little too far and a little too inebriated. She turned, but he fell in step with her.
“I wonder what could make me think that,” he continued. “Maybe getting ignored all summer even after I came to your rescue on the roof of the hotel."
“Logan,” Veronica said softly.
“I’m sorry,” Logan said. “Was that too harsh? Must be losing my touch. I didn’t think I’d see you again on this continent.”
That hurt too, but she didn’t think it would benefit anyone to show it. Not ever.
“Stranger things do happen,” Veronica replied. “Like you actually getting into college. How did you pull that miracle?”
“It must be your prayers for my eternal soul,” Logan said. “I didn’t think I had one, but if the big man upstairs will listen to anyone, it must be Veronica Mars.”
“So you do actually go here,” Veronica said. “You’re not just scamming on vulnerable freshmen.”
“Can’t I do both?"
She could feel his smirk and she tried to hide her own smile. He obviously took this as encouragement.
“And you?” he asked. “I thought you would have been hundreds of miles away by now. Though I don’t expect Angie Dahl would be excited to see you.”
“I didn’t get the scholarship,” Veronica said. Though in retrospect, she wondered if her choice in the end to sacrifice it was even worth it.
“Right,” Logan said. “Front row seats. You don’t need to rationalize going to a murder trial instead of your exams to me.”
“Didn’t plan on it.”
“So here we are,” Logan said. “How fortuitous.”
“Great. Like we never left Neptune High.” Veronica could not have been more relieved for Mac to come to her rescue.
Logan pivoted slightly and eyed Veronica's fellow collegiate. "Just wait. I think I saw Dick around here somewhere..."
“No thanks,” Mac said shortly. “Veronica?”
It hadn’t occurred to her that seeing the brother of her deceased boyfriend who blew up a bus full of kids, among many of his offenses, wouldn’t be the greatest first night on campus.
Veronica looped her arm through Mac’s and dutifully led her away. Logan gave their backs a mock salute.
“What was that about?” Mac asked when they were out of earshot.
“I have no idea,” Veronica said honestly.
“Logan goes here?”
“I think that’s a strong word for it,” Veronica said. ”I’m under the strict impression that he doesn’t exactly attend classes.”
“And you didn’t know.”
“That he’s not studious?” Veronica asked. “I thought it was pretty transparent—“
“That he goes to Hearst.”
Mac’s tone was a tidal wave of inevitability. Veronica could feel it crashing over her already.
“I do now.”
Veronica fell asleep on Mac’s couch that night. She had been thrown off when she heard about Dick’s night visit, but she was sure that wouldn’t happen now that he was kicked off of on campus housing and bunking with Logan.
When she said as much, Mac gave her that look again. But it wasn’t as bad as the one Wallace gave her.
“What about the summer?”
“What about it?” Veronica asked, crunching on a curly fry. He was giving her the look again.
“I thought guys didn’t do this,” Veronica teased him. “If memory serves from back in the day, ‘if a guy likes someone, he just likes her. He doesn’t need to have a talk about his feelings.’"
“So you like Logan.”
Veronica stared determinedly at her plate. “No.”
“You like him a lot.” Wallace was grinning and that made it slightly better.
But it still wasn’t right. No, Veronica didn’t like him a lot. This was something different altogether.
“You avoided him all summer,” Wallace pointed out.
“We both saw Cassidy jump off a roof,” Veronica said. “Not exactly the stuff romance is made of.”
“Logan Echolls just screams romance.”
“What about cutting him some slack?” Veronica asked. “If I recall, you said that as well.”
“If he did something to you. Something wrong…” Wallace said.
“No,” Veronica said truthfully. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
He was just himself. The only way he could be.
And the way he was right now, was unavoidable. Veronica was certain that Logan would never be able to even find the library. That was part of the allure of the part-time job.
Once again, she would be wrong.
“You living on campus?”
Veronica steeled herself. “That’s not really what the help desk is here for.”
“You mean it’s not for catching up with old friends who have started hiding behind trashcans every time you walk by? Strange.”
“Don’t insult me,” Veronica said. “I spent my formative years as a teen sleuth. I have more elegant ways of hiding from you.”
“Like tracking my cell phone?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Veronica said. “What are you doing here, Logan? Really.”
“Really?” Logan asked. “Well in that case then I’ll really ask if you’re living on campus.”
“Are you?”
“Ah,” he said like a breathless debutant. “Finally she asks something about me. I thought the day would never come.”
“I won’t make that mistake again.”
“I’ve got my suite at the Neptune Grande with Dick. It is slightly grander now that the shadow of my murdering father is gone. All that remains is the blood stain.”
“The town drunks, together at last.”
“Hey, we have a lot to bond over,” Logan said. “Absent fathers. Love of fistacuffs. Though I haven’t had a brother that committed suicide.”
“So that's his excuse for smelling perpatually like he lives in a distillery," Veronica said. "What’s yours?”
It wasn’t even a second before she regretted the question immediately. Logan leaned over the desk. A line was starting to form and she looked for the closed sign.
“Are we getting right down to it, then?” Logan asked softly. “I think you know where I stand on the subject. So do you?”
“No,” she said quietly.
No. She wasn’t ready.
“Is that your boyfriend?”
Veronica had been quite successfully avoiding eye contact while giving Piz the lowdown about his stolen belongings. She used the word successful quite liberally at that moment because the one she was actually trying to avoid was across the food court, drunken BFF in tow.
She couldn’t help but be annoyed at Piz. She didn’t have to look up to know where Wallace's new roommate was looking.
“Why would you think that?” Veronica asked, forgetting momentarily that she wasn’t supposed to be noticing him.
“He just keeps looking over here,” Piz said. “Pointedly or something.”
Piz didn’t mean pointedly. Logan didn’t do pointedly. She knew exactly the look he was talking aobut. It was the look Logan used when he didn’t think anyone could see him. When his eyes were soft like they had no right to be.
But there was a different side to it too. The side that went on Coronado bridges and made him have altercations with his best friend in a high school hallway. It was a particular trait that she couldn’t voice out loud. She couldn’t admit it.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Veronica said brusquely instead. For some reason, this made Piz smile. Veronica ignored it. She thrust the picture towards him. “Is this the welcome wagon girl?”
Piz took the picture and studied it for a moment. “Yeah—“
Before Piz could finish his thought there was a large clamor. Veronica had been in Neptune long enough to know when a fistfight was happening. And she didn’t have to look up to know who was involved.
Veronica gathered her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder.
“Does that actually work on girls?” Piz asked as Logan slammed his fist into the hulking mass over and over as Dick nursed a bloody nose. “Because I’ll tell you up front, I’m a lover. Not a fighter.”
Veronica didn’t dispense any time thinking on why Piz would need to tell her anything up front. As though it were instinct, she fished her taser out of her bag and made her way towards the brawl.
Logan was flat on his back, his knuckles already bruising. Blue electricity crackled as she put the taser to whoever girl’s boyfriend it appeared to be this time.
He went down with a thud.
Veronica was prepared to turn around without a second glance.
He always threw a wrench in her plans.
“You couldn’t resist, could you?” He smiled through bloody teeth. “I really don’t know how many times I can reject your advances before you get the idea.”
“You’re right,” Veronica said, wishing she could just walk away. “I just couldn’t resist. You know how I get a kick out of shocking people.” She pocketed her taser.
“That must explain your fixation with me,” Logan said, hoisting himself to his feet. “You love to get me on my back. What am I, a piece of meat to you?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Veronica said sarcastically.
She had hoped to get the last word, but Logan always made that impossible.
“So,” he said conversationally as the crowd dispersed. Veronica watched as Piz walked in the other direction. “Another blonde wearing your old flame’s shirt. What’s that about?”
Veronica had been so busy hiding from him that it hadn’t occurred to her that it wasn’t her that he was looking at but her companion in Duncan’s hand-me-down argyle sweater.
“Really,” Logan said when Veronica didn’t answer. “Who is that?”
Logan’s bravado had miraculously disappeared completely. This time his voice was filled with something that sounded very close to contempt. Something she didn’t want to address at all.
“Just some guy I’m helping,” Veronica shrugged.
“That’s all he’s in for, I’m sure.”
She couldn’t for the life of her figure out where the tone of his was coming from. “What does that mean?”
“Come on, Veronica,” Logan rolled his eyes. “You can’t be that—“
“What?” Veronica asked tersely. “I can’t be what?”
“That dense,” Logan said, the mirth gone from his voice. They both stopped short at the entrance to the food court. Veronica stared at him. “I thought you were a keen observer of the human condition. And he really seems to be observing you.”
Logan was the first to walk away this time. He wiped his bloody nose on his sleeve, joining Dick outside. Veronica stared after him.
The Pi Sig party was the night of debauchery as advertised. Almost enough to make her want to take a page from Dick and party like an animal.
Oh wait, now I remember. There’s a serial rapist on the loose.
Mac and Wallace were easy enough to manipulate into scanning the party for drunk girls. Piz however seemed to be glued to her hip the entire night. Anyone from Neptune would have understood it was a one bodyguard too many for her.
Even Dick would know she wasn’t the type to need assistance – and apparently his wingman for the night. But she was rather surprised at herself that she didn’t realize Logan would be at the bacchanalias of bacchanalias.
“Not in front of the old man. He’s the jealous type.”
Veronica scowled at Dick, almost protesting that she and Piz weren't together. Got to love Dick. Always looking out for his best friend. Logan looked away from her eyes and she realized he must be sober.
“Who’s the jealous type?” Piz asked over the loud music.
“No one. It was a stupid joke,” Logan mumbled.
“Okay.” Piz smiled. Silence was his only answer and it seemed like the better solution was to scan the party for drunk girls.
“Let me guess,” Logan said as Dick dispersed as well. “You’re here for a case. Frat party doesn’t really scream Veronica Mars.”
“I am what I am.” It almost sounded like a defense but Logan smiled at her anyway.
“Well you haven’t gone accusing me yet, so I’d say it’s a better night than most.”
“I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if I thought you did it," she said gently.
“Why Miss Mars,” he said, “I do believe that’s the best compliment you’ve ever given me.”
“Maybe I’m just drunk,” Veronica said. “But I’d still say your chances are better if you look around for drunk sorority girls instead.”
“Stop it.” He took a drink. “You know there’s no one else. I only want you. You got to know that by now.”
Running away seemed her best option yet again, but no one was listening to their conversation and for some reason she didn’t feel the usual threat.
“I can’t stay.”
“No. That would be asking too much." Logan forced a smile. "I know that.”
“Wallace said he found some girl’s cup dosed with GHB.” She was already pulling away.
Logan put a hand on her arm. “Wait.”
She felt the familiar rage. It was all too familiar with him. She hadn’t seen it. But she had sure as hell heard about. When she was busy recuperating after Mercer’s attack – a close friend of Logan’s by the way – he was off getting thrown in jail again.
It never really occurred to her that he meant no offense, but the rage drove her all the way to the sheriff’s department. His knuckles were more than bruised and bloody. His shoulders were hunched like he had accepted a large undertaking. That just made her angrier.
The bashed up squad car was in the parking lot.
“Darling,” he said, rubbing his wrists where the cuffs had rubbed him raw. “Come to bail me out?”
“Do you expect my gratitude?” she asked.
Logan sighed, deflating slightly.
“Look, Veronica. I’m really not in the mood—“
“Since you got yourself thrown in jail?” Veronica asked. “Don’t expect any sympathy from me.”
“Well that’s great,” Logan retorted, “because I didn’t really ask for it.”
“What else could it be?” Veronica asked. “You damage state property to beat up one of your friends—“
“You weren’t exactly supposed to know about that,” Logan said. “I never wanted your gratitude. But now that you came all the way here, it would be appreciated.”
“Are you kidding, Logan?” Veronica asked. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”
“No, I just had to hear about you getting assaulted again in Sociology class.”
“I’m sorry,” Veronica said, bleeding sarcasm. “I’m sorry I didn’t come running to you in tears like any of your other bimbos.”
Logan huffed bitterly, shouldering past her. “I think I can make it home from here. But thanks for the offer of a ride."
“Once again, this is all about you.”
“Me?” Logan asked. “You’re the one that came all the way down here just to yell at me, right?”
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“God, Veronica,” he said. “Don’t you get it? Can I possibly penetrate that thick exterior of yours so you can see what is right in front of your face?”
“Don’t turn this around,” Veronica said. “I never asked for your help, and you parading your ego around isn’t exactly fair."
“No one can ever help you,” Logan said, “can they? You can never let anyone in. Well it doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. Guess what. I don’t care.”
“You don’t care,” Veronica said, slightly disgusted.
“I don’t care if it’s right or fair,” Logan said, whirling to face her. She stood back a moment, stunned at his proximity. “I love you.”
She had nothing to say to that.
“Okay?” he asked. “I’m in love with you.”
As if the implication wasn’t clear enough.
She took a step away.
“Well?”
She couldn’t have it in herself to be repelled at his expectance.
“Do you love me?” he asked.
He was right. He really didn’t care about right or fair.
Veronica never found out how he got home."
“I know what I like. Why waste my time?”
Piz was nice. Veronica understood that. He was nice when she came back from an atrocious party when one of her best friends was planning on going on a first date. In a way, she was slightly jealous. Not because she needed to have someone. He had been right. She never really needed anyone. She had never been one of those girls that couldn't stay single for five seconds.
But she was still missing something. Piz let her live in denial.
For a little while at least.
“Like why bother with something not good just because it’s something?” She shouldn't have said it. That was the first step to admitting it to herself. She had never been the type to mingle and casually hook up.
College was exhausting.
“Especially when you know the difference. Which not many people do. I mean… do you?” She could hear the pointedness in Piz's statement. She knew what he was asking. But she wasn't listening. She wasn't going to say what he wanted to hear.
“…I think I do.”
Veronica knocked three times. She felt the familiar curdling in her stomach whenever she knocked on Logan’s door. She never knew what she would find behind it.
But it was only him. He finally opened the door and she had never seen such genuine shock on his face. All of his walls were down. She had missed his look of pure vulnerability. She remembered the last time she was here and she wasn't afraid.
He just stared at her. For a moment she was worried that Dick was in the room until she realized he was waiting for her.
“I do, you know,” Veronica said, her voice cracking. “I do too.”
They were so inexorably entwined. She knew that now. How could she have ever thought any different? She began and didn’t know where she ended. Not without him. They had risen and broken and loved all together and not having him in her life was not an option.
He was right. How could she not see or understand that? She had at the beginning. At the Alterna-Prom where she kissed him first. Where he didn’t care how her innocence had been forcibly taken from her. The same could be said for him. They both had their innocence ripped away from them. She couldn’t stand the thought of not having him in her life so she kissed him first, and let her walls all fall away. And the ferocity and intensity of so much feeling the next day scared her so she did what she only knew how.
She ran. It hadn’t been like this before. She had never felt so helpless against anything. She had always been able to control and do anything she wanted. Until now. Until some stupid law breaking, unrestrained boy looked at her like that and she just had to give in.
She just had to kiss him back.
He was staring at her again, but this time, she let him see her. She took a step into the room again and never looked back. He pushed her against the counter, kissing in his usual way. No restraint and no hiding all of the feelings he fueled into her.
She could keep up this time. She wasn’t scraping or sliding off of him. She wasn’t confused and unsure of herself.
Their breathing was synchronized and he wasn’t sweating out his alcohol. She could hear the things he whispered and they fit together like they should. Borderline antagonistic but devastatingly sweet at the same time.
He rolled off of her, breathless.
“Woof.”
And he laughed for the first time. His face was covered with a sheen of sweat and she had never seen him so red before. But he showed his teeth in true joy.
“You should really consider going pro in that.”
And she stopped running.