Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognise
A/N: Yes, it's short. Yes it's lame. But i'm ill, tired and cranky. So please, no flames right now
Chapter 1
A tall girl with sexy curls in her hair and an even sexier smirk stepped out of a cab, and back onto the familiar concrete of Pacific Coast Academy. She looked over at a blonde girl and a curly-haired guy, who had only been there a day and were already making out on a bench. She rolled her eyes, brushing past them. It wasn't that she didn't want to see them…she just had someone else in mind for her first hello.
Logan's POV
I stepped out of my limo a few hours after leaving the airport. Summer vacation in Paris ended the morning before, and as usual my father had given me a sending off gift. This year's was a little strange, but Dad said Genevieve chose it. He likes Genevieve… therefore any hideous gifts my soon-to-be step mom chooses, I have to adore.
In case you're wondering, yes she's French, and yes, my father only met her this year. Four months ago actually. Not that I complained, since it meant spending the summer in Paris. That place has so many memories for me, most of them good, but one particularly bad. That was why I hated the gold watch from The Eiffel Tower Jewellers. It reminded me of that night….
Dana's POV
The whole point of the Student Exchange programme was to spend a semester abroad, then come back. People were supposed to welcome you with open arms, and it wasn't supposed to be awkward…after all you were supposed to have kept in touch with all of those so-called friends.
Surprisingly, the only 'friend' to bother contacting me was Logan. From a million miles away, he's actually a really decent guy. He gave me all of the updates, telling me everything. Granted, there was stuff I didn't wanna know, like which girls he dated etc, but at least when I returned I was prepared for Zoey and Chase to be together, and I was prepared to meet Freaky Lola, as Logan called her.
When he told me he was coming to France, I was so happy. I got everything ready for his stay. He sent me pictures of him as he packed, then from the plane, then from the airport. It must have cost a lot to text from where he was, but I guess cost didn't really matter to him. I was planning his visit for weeks… I dunno, I thought maybe the old spark might be there. I never wanted to stomp on his foot at the dance last year. I just wanted to see if I could hurt him… maybe see if he actually cared.
I guess, from the way he acted back in France that I was wrong. He didn't care. He never cared.