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Lilly Kane nervously chewed on one gel-covered nail as she stared blindly at the computer screen. The words had jumbled together on the screen until they were a blurry haze of black shapes zigzagging amongst one another against the white background of her browser.
But there was no need to focus anyway. She’d read and re-read the drafted email in front of her so many times that it was committed to memory. And it still didn’t seem right. It didn’t seem like enough. But after what she’d done, how could anything ever be enough?
Ronica,
You want to know the funny thing about New Years’ Eve, Veronica Mars? It’s always a disappointment. I always have some grand plan that ends up being a distant second to a pint of Chunky Monkey and a Golden Girls marathon.
But, I digress.
I’ve written and rewritten this letter to you at least a hundred times. And then, right when I’m about to hit send, I chicken out. Usually I delete the whole thing too.
I told myself I would just call you when I got back to Neptune for break. I was home for break. I don’t know if you knew. I always feel like you know everything. Veronica Mars sees all—do you remember that? And it’s true. You saw through Duncan, Madison, and Caitlin, and, well…everyone. Even me.
But, what I am trying to say (ineloquently) is that I wanted to call you when I was home, but obviously, I didn’t. I chickened out again when I got there.
But I saw you.
Twice.
The first time Duncan and I had ditched Celeste and Jake on Christmas Eve for lunch and we ran out to the boardwalk for Pink’s hotdogs. I saw you out on the beach with your friends. You were laughing and having fun. That boy Wallace was working on his airplane and the girl with the streaked hair was talking your ear off and you were cracking up and you were laughing so hard that you were doubled over. It was nice. You seemed happy, which is so much better than how you were at school last year. Plus, Donut was with me. So I didn’t want to bug you or to burst the happy bubble. Or so I told myself so I could chicken out.
But at that moment I wanted to be there with you, laughing how we used to laugh. How I only ever laughed when I was with you. Laughing until our stomachs hurt and we had to race to the bathroom. That kind of laughing.
Look, I’m sorry for what happened last fall. School started out so perfect – just the four of us, and then right after Homecoming, everything went to shit. I’m sorry I couldn’t explain things better about Duncan—I’m sorry that I still can’t. I wish you could believe me that it’s all for the better. But I know that’s easy to say from my perspective.
And then Jake’s security guy caught me with Aaron and hell broke loose all over again. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about that. I thought of telling you a million times, but as much as I wanted to tell you the biggest secret I’d ever kept, it was almost more sexy to not tell you. And, I’m sorry to say it, V, but you were the biggest prude on the planet and I just couldn’t see how you’d understand.
But maybe you aren’t such a prude anymore, Veronica Mars, because this brings me to the second time I saw you over break. At the movies. With Logan Echolls!
Celeste convinced me to go see Million Dollar Baby with her (turns out not the best choice if she was interested in parental relationship rebuilding), and when we were leaving, I saw you going into Ocean’s Twelve with him (looking quite a bit more than chummy, I might add).
You and Logan Echolls. I don’t mind admitting that I didn’t get much sleep that night wondering how the hell that came about. And I came to the conclusion that Duncan worked hard to push you away. And I (selfishly) did the same to Logan. And if you two somehow found one another in all this mess…well, it almost makes sense, I suppose.
And now here I am sitting here on January 1st, 2005 at two in the morning (my time) rewriting this stupid email, yet again. Because a whole year has gone by since we talked (I mean really talked). And you had a birthday and I had a birthday. And neither of us called.
And I miss you. So much. I’m so so sorry. And while I know that’s not enough, I don’t know what else I can say. If I could take it all back, I would. But I can’t. And I know I have to live with that.
And I know you said to never contact you again. You said I was out of your life forever, but forever is too long to be without my other half. And that’s you, Veronica Mars.
I just miss you. Every day. I pick up the phone to call you at least twice a week.
I dyed my hair auburn when I was shipped off to Andover and you were the one I wanted to call about it. I kind of love it. I think you would too.
I don’t know if there’s any way for us to move past this. But I’m hoping there is. I’m hoping that you’ll graduate and get far, far away from the cesspool that is Neptune, California, and will be able to gain some perspective. And maybe we can find a way back to one another.
I’d really like that.
I’ve written enough since it’s likely I will lose my nerve and delete this like all the rest. I hope I don’t. So, if I do send this, I want you to know that I’m thinking of you all the time. And now the ball is in your court.
Happy New Year!
xoxo,
Lilly
Lilly wiped the tears that had fallen from her cheeks and then laughed and rolled her eyes at her own silliness. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t send that.
No, no, no.
She took a steadying breath and slid her right index finger across the touchpad to scroll the cursor up to the red ‘X’ on the corner of the browser window.
One more draft for the figurative dustbin.
But then something crazy happened. Before she could think the better of it, her finger slid in the opposite direction. And then, as if of its own accord, her finger clicked send instead.
Lilly’s action shocked even her, and she looked down at her own hand as if it had betrayed her.
“Oh God,” Lilly whispered to herself. “What did you just do?”
She massaged her temples for a quick moment and then let out a long sigh.
It was done. After so long, it was done. It was out of her hands. The thought made her euphoric for all of ten seconds.
Shit! It was out of her hands. She didn’t like things out of her hands.
But there it was.
Lilly closed the laptop with a little more force than was necessary and buried her face in her hands.
This could totally backfire.
She thought she’d feel better, but she didn’t. Now if Veronica never responded it was over. And Lilly didn’t want it to be over.
Why, oh why didn’t she just delete the damn email like she had all the ones before?
The sound of Ciara’s Goodies blaring from her phone’s speaker jarred Lilly out of her silent lament. She cringed. She really, really didn’t want to talk to anyone. Lilly leaned over to retrieve her phone from where it sat on the bed to press the button to silence it. When she saw the caller’s name flash across her screen, she didn’t believe her eyes.
Veronica Mars
“No way,” she whispered to herself, suddenly too nervous to move. But she pulled herself together long enough to grab the phone and, with shaking hands, flip it open. With confidence she didn’t feel, she managed to keep her voice even and blurt out the first thing that popped into her head.
“So…what’s new with you?” she said and then rolled her eyes at her own lameness.
Short…sweet.
Awkward.
Ugh.
There was a short pause before Veronica’s voice came down the line. “Not much.”
Lilly was at a loss for words for the first time in her life. She opened her mouth two or three times to speak, but no words came out. Veronica broke the silence.
“So…auburn, huh?”
Lilly let out a long breath. “Yeah, auburn.” Again, she was annoyingly tongue-tied. She let the silence hang again for a moment until it became obvious Veronica would not save her twice. “So…Logan, huh?”
“Yeah,” Veronica replied simply. “Logan.”
Lilly shrugged but realized that Veronica couldn’t see her. It was now or never. “Ya know, I was a bit shocked at first, but then I got to thinking about it—about you two…together—and it kind of works in an opposites attract, sexy-as-hell couple-of-the-century kind of way.”
Veronica chuckled slightly. “You’re right. It kind of does work somehow. It was surprising, but…I dunno, nice.”
Lilly suddenly wanted to know all the intimate details of how the Logan-Veronica situation had begun, but it didn’t seem like a safe place to start this rebuilding process. The last time she’d seen Logan, he’d been passed out on the floor after a long bender. She didn’t want to think about it.
Veronica broke the silence again. “But seriously, folks, how is the notorious Lilly Kane home alone on New Year’s Day?”
Lilly pshawed. “I’ll have you know I spend a lot of time alone. I mean, I have friends, but things are different out here. I’m different out here. I do volunteer work, for god's sake.”
“Yeah right,” Veronica scoffed. “What? Collecting lingerie for sexy needy people?”
Lilly laughed out loud at that, a genuine cackle, the likes of which she hadn’t uttered in well over a year. The kind of cackle you only share with your best friend. “See, Veronica Mars. You just get me.”
“Blanche Deveraux gets you is more like it,” Veronica deadpanned.
“No…just you,” Lilly said earnestly. When she spoke again, her voice was barely above a whisper. “I meant what I said, V. I’m sorry. I miss you.”
Veronica’s response was swift and strong. “Me too. But we can’t just pretend all this didn’t happen. Not to mention the logistics of your parents hating me and your brother not being able to look me in the eye. And what you did to Logan—”
Lilly couldn’t bear to go over it again. Especially not now. Not in the middle of the night in her dorm room with partying students running up and down the halls. She couldn’t cry over this again right now.
“I know!” she interrupted. “I promise, I know,” she told Veronica. “I don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen either. But you called…and I’ll take whatever I can get. And from there, we’ll just see…”
Veronica breathed an audible sigh. “Okay. I can’t make any promises. But we’ll see.”
Lilly teared up again despite the smile that spread across her face.
There was a rush of noise coming from the other end of the phone and she heard Veronica say muffled words to someone else.
“Listen, I’ve gotta run,” Veronica sounded distracted. “We’re off to watch the fireworks at the beach.”
Lilly once again swiped at her eyes. “Yeah! I totally get it. I mean, it’s freezing here, but I get it in theory.”
Veronica seemed to hesitate. “You going to be okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” Lilly promised her, making sure to keep her voice even. “I’d say ‘say hi from me’ but…” Lilly let the sentence drift off. No one there wanted to hear from her.
“Baby steps,” Veronica told her evenly. “G’night, Lil. Happy New Year.”
“Goodnight, Veronica,” Lilly replied, and after a moment’s pause, the line went silent. Veronica had hung up.
She didn’t bother to wipe the tears away this time. She just let them flow as she took steadying breaths to even out her heart rate.
“Baby steps,” she told herself as she reached for the television remote. She wasn’t going to fall asleep anytime soon and the Golden Girls marathon still had four more hours to go. And Blanche Deveraux did get her. Veronica was right. But then she always was, wasn’t she? And Veronica had decided to give her another chance. And that would have to be good enough for today.