and somewhere a heart is aching
One
He hates to admit it to himself, but as he scans the college grounds, he wishes with all his might to get a glimpse of her, however brief it may end up to be. Two months of surfing with Dick in Brazil sure had its perks, but, when those final two weeks had arrived, Logan had really wanted to return home. He would never say it out loud, but truth be told, he simply couldn't wait to see her again.
He knows he's stupid for having left for so long – especially since last they'd seen each other everything had kind of been left unresolved and suspended in mid-air. As far as he knows, she might've chosen Piz. For good.
A thought that literally tears at his heartstrings.
There is no sign of her. Of course there isn't. It wouldn't surprise him if she's out solving a case, too busy for their first day of their sophomore year at Hearst. So, to distract himself from thoughts of her, he concentrates extra hard on his lessons (for once), grateful that – so far – they haven't included Wallace, Mac, Piz, Parker or Veronica herself. It might have been more than two months since seeing them, but it feels like yesterday. He is not ready to face those familiar faces, knowing that the awkwardness will be overwhelming, and knowing he'll be judged for it.
Shocker.
"Yo, bro! What'd you say, are we hitting that beach-party later or what?" Dick says (loudly) as he flings an arm around Logan's shoulders, like he always does when he's excited about something.
Logan just smiles, because frankly, it's hard not to, but ducks away and says, "I'm not sure, Dick. Feel like staying in tonight," which causes Dick's smile to turn into a disappointed frown, as if Logan has said that there's really no Santa.
"Dude! You're such a killjoy sometimes," is his response and then bounces off to invite some freshmen college girls, who are, on the other hand, very eager to hit a rager at the beach. The smile on Logan's face is never really wiped off, and he shakes his head at his friend who really isn't complicated at all and continues his walk to his next, boring class.
It isn't until lunch for the potentially catastrophic scenario to take place when he, as he pays the cashier for his lunch, grabs his tray and turns around, sees her. And in that instant time and space dissolves into nothingness and his surroundings vanish altogether, everything except her is blurry and dark, nothing of importance.
Her hair has grown – golden locks cascading down her shoulders – and she's wearing yellow, which makes her glow with an ethereal, unnatural aura, her blue eyes sparkling with glee at something Wallace has said. But then she notices him and recognition is evident upon her features, and her laugh is replaced by a subtle smile – almost an apologetic one.
He walks toward her without realizing it, all he's conscious of being an electric current that's forcing him forward in her direction, that binds them together, something that has always existed and that always will; no matter how hard they try to fight it.
It all becomes so much clearer – the true nature of this current flooding between them – when she smiles. And all he can do is smile in return.
He stops in his tracks because he's unsure whether or not to continue, not certain if they're even on speaking terms – seeing as last they saw each other he was apologizing to her boyfriend for beating him up; and as if that wasn't awkward enough, he clearly remembers that final look they shared before taking off, how his heart had nearly beat out of its comfortable socket. But with her, all the drama has been worth it. Epic love isn't just that easy anymore. Those that say otherwise – well, they simply do not have a clue what true love is all about.
He looks down, takes a deep breath – holds it – and when he looks up, she's making a move. He breathes a sigh of utter relief when she does.
"Hey."
"Hi."
A normal greeting. Who could have guessed they could be so unoriginal?
"Care to join me for lunch?" he asks and tilts his head, indicating the empty table they're standing beside.
He sees for a second worry flash in her eyes and she hesitates. He's truthfully surprised when she shrugs and says, "What the hell?! Why not?" and takes a seat. Logan can't help but smile.
"You won't eat anything?" he asks but makes it sound like a statement.
"I'm on a diet, actually."
Silence. He locks eyes with her and the expression on her face is completely serious.
"I'm kidding! The day I'm on a diet, you might as well shoot me," she jokes and heads off unexpectedly to where Wallace and Mac are sitting, both with enquiring faces.
Logan is actually a tad bit grateful she took off before he would have commented on her exclamation – the thought of Veronica Mars getting shot chills him to the very core of his being. He remembers telling (coincidence that it rhymes with yelling?) her that she is not invincible, a moment from almost a year ago.
She's not invincible. And that scares him.
"What are you thinking about?" he hears and he returns to earth with a loud thump. Veronica takes her seat once again and starts propping fries into her mouth, two by two, or three by three, he's not sure. Man, she's lovely, though.
"Nothing. Just how freakishly unreal it is to be back. Didn't think I would be," he confesses and she stops chewing abruptly.
When he doesn't elaborate, she swallows and says, "What'd you mean, didn't think I would be? What, not coming back? Seriously?" and it's in an incredulous tone.
He shrugs it off. "Doesn't matter, does it? I'm here, right?"
She drops it. For now.
Quickly changing the subject, he asks, "So? How was it?"
"How was what?" she feigns with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Your summer internship at the FBI is what. Were they all Man In Black-esque suits like you've always pictured them to be?"
"They were coldhearted and mean, yes. Nah, seriously though, it was tough, but necessary. I've learned a lot."
"I can imagine," he says and takes a bite of his now cold lasagna. A comfortable silence settles in which he dares steal a glance of her, but of course, being who she is, that action does not go unnoticed.
"What?" she asks with raised eyebrows and for a second, Logan does seriously not know whether to cry or laugh because the moment is so familiar and for all he knows, these past eight months haven't even happened.
If only that was true.
"Nothing. Just your expression. Reminded me of something."
"Of what?"
"Of how it used to be." It's definitely not the right thing to say, because she literally squirms in her seat, the intensity of the moment overwhelming, making her uncomfortable. She takes a deep breath, then several large gulps of water while he scrutinizes her because there's nowhere in hell he can look away now.
But he won't push it. He won't risk it.
"I'm sorry," is all he says – automatically – and she chuckles.
"You don't have to apologize, Logan. It just caught me off-guard."
But she dares look at him in the eyes and he can't look away, because she has him rooted to that place and that moment, that space with her, with longing and love and wonder. He has to question briefly whether or not she feels something similar, or if she has just stopped feeling altogether by now. It's certainly not fair, but sadly enough, it wouldn't surprise him if one day that became the truth.
They break their eye-contact and finish their lunch, both meals cold. It's done mostly in silence, but occasionally they'll ask trivial questions such as how the weather was in Virginia as well as in Brazil or ask questions about their friends, which none are really interested about. All the same, they do all they can to avoid the heavy topics, the danger zone, and everything in their power to keep the conversation going, an excuse to be left sitting in each others company just a little while longer.
***