You've Got Mail Draft 4

by Jiade-103

Sometimes what you need is not the thing that you want. And sometimes that thing that you didn't want can help you become something more than you ever thought you could. And sometimes the thing you need becomes the thing that you want. And sometimes the thing that you want can hurt you the most in the end. - Love. Pain. Denial. Humor. Angst. - Long Live DL.

Hi Guys.

A long time ago - or so it seems - I wrote a whole load of DL one shots and stories and then I disappeared off the face of the planet.

I want to let all you DL fans and all the wonderful people who have been reading and reviewing my stories all along - despite my absences - that I have re-read all your reviews and I appreciate every single one of them. And I am sorry for letting you all down.

Now with that said. Yes, I already have a story called 'You've Got Mail'. It was Draft 1. This is Draft 4. And there will be many more drafts to come until I get it right.

There are a lot of things I liked from Draft 1 that aren't in Draft 4. But there is a lot of things in this draft that I will not change.

You are the readers, the people I write for. Please feel free to leave comments on what I can do to make Draft 5 even better than the drafts before it.

This story is close to my heart. I have been struggling with it for many years.

I wasn't going to post this until it was perfect and done. But I feel like I've left things dormant for long enough.

You will notice that there are numbers that look like this {1} , those are chapters. Considering how short the chapters are and the fact that I'm lazy and don't want to go through and make separate documents for each chapter... Consider this Part 1.

I will be spending a lot of time working on the things I never finished. And full-filling promises to all my reviewers.

This story is dedicated to - but not limited to:

shcillingklaus
chibi angelle
kritsin
Tamekia
itisjustmyself

And every other DL fan out there.
Thank you for your patience.

Unfortunately I can't use my original fonts so you're going to have to use a little bit of imagination.

---

You've Got Mail

"This is the last time Logan! The last time!" You could hear the dean's words echoing through the hallway. A pause.

"Logan you need to learn how to treat people." The dean said quietly, "you obviously can't stand anyone here. Not your teachers or your peers or..."

"If you're going to say 'or my friends' you're wrong." Logan said defiantly.

Dean Rivers sighed, "I've signed you up as a pen pal. No buts! That was your last stunt. From now on you're going to e-mail your pen pal every day and they're going to e-mail me and confirm that you've been writing, so don't try and weasel out of it thinking that I won't know whether or not you followed through. I expect you to be nice, this is the school's reputation hanging on your shoulders."

"My dad will not agree to this." Logan said

"Your father," The dean replied, "already has."

Logan left the room with a piece of paper in his hand and mumbled curses flowing from his mouth every step of the way.

Logan reached into his bag and pulled out his laptop. Setting it on his lap he stared out at the ocean while it logged him on.

"One hysterical moment in chem. and suddenly the whole world is against you." He mumbled. He took a deep breath, breathing in the deep ocean air and looked down at the instructions on the paper Dean Rivers had given him. He read through them once and then crumpled up the paper, "a monkey could figure out how to do this," he mumbled.

Hey… My name is Logan.

He backspaced.

Hey… whoever you are. I'm Clyde. I'm supposed to be nice to you but I'm not really a nice person. So… guess it sucks to be you. I don't like the idea of this pen pal thing.

We're not friends, and I'm not going to pretend that we are. So if you would just e-mail the dean, the old cockroach, saying that I've been oh so nice and such and such we can save ourselves the agony of sending these e-mails every day.

Goodbye,

Clyde.

He read through his handy work once, shrugged and pressed enter. If all went well whoever this guy was would just go through the necessary motions and it would all be over before it even began. Just when he was about close his laptop a ping sounded. He had mail.

Hi Clyde.

I really can't just pretend we've been talking all the time when we haven't. It's called cheating and I'm on the honor role. If I got found out then I would lose my standing and my reputation. I'm really sorry but you're going to have to follow through and write me every day. I know this is… uncomfortable but it's only a few months.

My name is Camille. I'm a senior at the Academic School of the Arts. I'm 18 years old I started here in 9th grade and am now graduating.

How old are you? What school do you go to? This pen pal system has been set up in most boarding schools across the globe…

If you want me to say you've been 'oh so nice' I suggest you try to be 'oh so nice' and so on and so on.

Yours,

Camille

Logan scoffed at the reply. Camille, what a stupid name and what a stupid font so difficult to read, and why do girls always send all these really long pointless messages that seem to have absolutely no point at all. Why couldn't she have just said: "No I won't help you, suck it up" and been done with it. Why all the formalities and all the fluff. Logan closed his laptop. He already did his one a day he didn't need to waste time on a reply until tomorrow. He looked at the fading sun and let out a deep breath. Subconsciously he began drawing lines into the sand.

{ 2 }

Unfortunately tomorrow came too soon. One minute he was doing his hair and feeling great and the next he was sitting on the beach again with his laptop dreading having to write a reply to Miss Priss over in wherever the 'Academic School of the' whatever was. So he wrote the first thing that came to his mind.

Why do girls write so much? Can't you just be frank and say 'hey, I can't help you. In fact I don't want to help you. Sorry.' Done and done. I hate all that fluffy stuff. And what is with the weird font? It's so… proper and difficult to read. Are you a debutant? Or whatever those girls who have to wear those frilly dresses and parade around like princesses are called…?

And I go to PCA, if you don't know what that is, it doesn't matter. I'm 18. Graduating this year, if I manage to pass all my subjects… I'm not about to get personal with you. If you want to write all your personal thoughts down and hope I'll read it. That's fine.

I don't know how to be nice. Where the hell is this Academic School of whatever… I feel like I've heard of it.

Clyde

This time when Logan hit send he waited for a reply. And it didn't take long before one arrived.

A.S.A is in France. And it's Arts. Academic School of the Arts.

You're telling me that there isn't a single person on the earth you've ever been nice to? Ever? Not a friend or a brother or sister or parent or girlfriend? Nobody?

I'm a tutor by the way, so if you need help with a subject I'm pretty good at most subjects.

I'll try to tone down the 'fluff' as long as you try to turn up the nice. And I like this font, it reminds me to sit up straight and keep my shoulders back. Debutantes and those Princesses you were talking about… are the same thing. And no, I am not a Debutant. I avoided that ship wreck for my own safety.

Yours,

Camille.

Logan tried to ignore the irritating feeling in his chest, the one that keeps nagging you… like you forgot something that you should be remembering. France. It had something to do with France, what did he know about France?

Nothing. He was barely passing French and France was never a place he'd ever wanted to visit… well except for those few months after 8th grade. But that was a totally different story and he'd long given up trying to learn the foreign language.

"Stupid girl, with her stupid smart aleck remarks…" Logan mumbled in agitation. It takes a whole set of skills to get on his nerves this quickly, no one had managed that in years. He hadn't even done anything wrong yet! Sure he hadn't been the nicest guy in the world but he hadn't hit on her or called her something disrespectful… to her face anyways.

I'm not a nice person.

There are people I wish I had been nicer to, but none that I have been.

You sound like a saint, but I just can't change into someone who's all sugar and spice. What is this? Like honestly zone or something? Seriously it sounds like a 'let's share all our deepest secrets' club. Chick stuff.

Clyde

He heard the ping barely 2 minutes later.

Have you ever tried to tell anyone your deepest secrets before?

Logan didn't reply. Of course he hadn't he didn't exactly like to go around broadcasting those vulnerable moments. He wasn't quite as easy to read as his friend Chase, who you could tell what he was thinking and feeling with a single glance and he wasn't as open as his friend Michael who just went with the flow and if that meant embarrassing himself, fine. Logan was more of a secluded personality in those matters. Popular and trouble. He didn't have time to show weaknesses to people who could use them against him.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a pencil and some paper… he needed a release.

{ 3}

Logan opened his mail in the morning with every intention of telling what's her face to get her nose out of his personal life, but he noticed he had an e-mail from her that she'd sent a few hours after the last one.

That was out of line, I apologize.

I'm sorry. It just seemed like you probably have never tried to actually express yourself in that kind of way… it might be a good idea for you to try sometime. But I didn't mean to step my boundaries and I did. Please forgive me.

Yours,

Camille.

Logan sighed, he couldn't release his anger on her now. He took a deep breath and started writing.

Dana.

That's the name of the one person I wish I had been nicer to. She left after Grade 8 and I never saw her again, she was only here for a year. I've got some really good friends here who are always by my side no matter what kind of stuff I put them through, but Dana didn't care for any of my bull. She confronted me about it; she was the person I wish I could have opened up to before she left. She was my closest friend, and she didn't even know it. I didn't even know it. Until she was gone.

When you said ASA It struck a chord. I'm not 100% sure, but it sounds like the place she transferred to. And then you said France… and she moved to France.

I guess regrets just follow you around right?

Was that personal enough for you Miss Priss?

Clyde

Logan backspaced until the entire message was gone.

"Logan dude, you coming?" Chase called from the door way. His poofy head of brown hair bounced around while his entire body twitched nervously. "We're going to be late for class and Michael already left, and he's the one who usually sleeps in… you know it's bad when Michael beats us to class."

"You go." Logan said, "I just need to finish up this thing for the cockroach and then I'll be right there."

"You can't be tardy again… you're already in enough trouble." Chase reminded.

"Chase." Logan replied. "It'll only take me a minute to type this up and send it off."

Chase leaned against the door frame, holding the door open with his foot. "I'll wait. If you're going to be late, we'll both be late. Better we both get into trouble than just you."

Logan turned to his computer and quickly started typing, it was times like these he wished he was a better person.

Just stay out of my business okay? If I want to open up to someone I'll hire myself a shrink. He's paid to listen and will probably give better advice. I don't have any skeletons in my closet and I don't have any regrets big enough to change a man. I'm popular and cute and I like to cause trouble. There is nothing wrong with my life. Just because you're on the honor role and fix people, doesn't mean you can fix me. I don't need fixing.

Clyde

Logan felt frustrated and he wasn't sure who he was frustrated with. Miss priss, or someone a little closer to home. And by home he didn't mean his L.A. mansion or the boarding school he was stuck at most of the year.

"Done." He hit send, grabbed his laptop and followed Chase out the door. Chase tossed Logan his bag half-way down the hall and they both ran towards their first class.

After School -

"Logan, dude, you're staring at your computer like you want to murder it. You don't have those kind of super powers, and even if you did… you'd be in the line of fire and I don't think you want to ruin your face because you were glaring are your computer too hard." Michael walked into the room basketball in hand smiling like a goof.

Logan blinked, snapping himself out his trance. He looked at Michael. He was soaked from head to toe and for multiple reasons Logan was sure that it wasn't because he was sweating too much. Michael wasn't necessarily accident prone so much as he tended to be in the line of fire more often than the usual person.

"Sorry man, I was waiting for an e-mail from the evil pen pal. She's like a mutant or something. Usually replies within seconds." He looked back at his computer, no mail yet.

"She must be one hell of an evil person, I haven't seen you look at something that intensely since…." There was an awkward pause and then he coughed and cleared his throat. "Anyways, I bet she's not half as bad as she seems." There was an unspoken afterthought that Logan could practically hear even though it wasn't said 'Dana wasn't'. Even after all these years nobody wanted to approach the subject.

Ping. Logan's head snapped to the computer. Mail.

"Have fun with that girl for yours." Michael smiled and left the room. Logan decided he had a window of maybe 5 minutes before Michael came rushing back in looking for something dry to wear, unless he stopped by Zoey's room and got a towel… which was a possibility… or he could just dry outside, it was hot enough for that. Either way he wanted to get a head start on his reply before anybody interrupted.

It's not exactly difficult to figure out what kind of person you are Clyde. I bet you're a selfish guy who gives your friends grief every chance you get. You probably sit there glaring at your computer all the time and wishing you had substance in your life, and stability. I bet you rely on others to fix things for you, you don't do anything on your own. You think you're God's gift to humanity and everyone should do things for you. You probably sit there thinking that you deserve so much more than you actually do and waiting for people to realize how great you are.

News flash, you're not great. You're a childish little boy with no family and friends who only keep you around so that they can mooch of your money and your reputation. Do them a favor and disappear.

You are so not getting any 'oh so nicer' since the first time I talked to you.

Just wait until I e-mail Mr. Cockroach – your words, not mine – and tell him all about your behavior. How do you like the idea of detention… for the rest of your God given life!

Yours

Camille.

Logan blushed crimson when she mentioned glaring at the computer, and he was happy Michael had left the room and couldn't witness it. He wasn't sure how to feel: angry, pissed, scared, impressed, worried?... but he sat there gaping at the compute crimson faced and speechless.

{4}

"What happened with your girl?" Michael asked at lunch the next day, Logan still hadn't figured out how he felt about Camille's e-mail, or how to respond.

"She flipped out." Logan answered, he voice was normal and he was trying not to show any irregular emotions.

"What girl?" Chase asked sitting down next to Michael.

"Logan's punishment." Michael responded, nearly laughing.

"Shut up. She's my pen pal." Logan shot a dangerous look at Michael. He was not in the mood for anything related to Camille.

"Pen pal." Chase repeated, "Odd thing for you to get Logan… you uh… going to start drinking fruity drinks and watching Gossip Girl?"

"Ha, ha Guys." Logan said, "Very funny. If I decide I want to drink chick flavors and watch chick movies, I'll borrow Gossip Girl from Michael, who I'm sure has them stashed in the room somewhere and you two have been sobbing over them night after night. And I'll borrow the drink recipe from Chase, because the way you hold your liquor, chick drinks are the only ones you can swallow."

Chase and Michael were silent.

"You're kind of a dick dude." Chase got up and walked away.

"You need to take it easy man, we were just teasing you. You're going to lose your friends if you keep up with that attitude. You have to learn to lighten up." Michael shook his head at him before walking off after Chase.

Logan looked at the two empty seats where his friends had just been. For a second he thought, Camille was right.

I really, really don't like you. What exactly did you say to Mr. Cockroach – as you put it – because I've been waiting all day for him to come and expel me and he hasn't yet, so you must have said something either really bad or really good.

I'm going to forget yesterday happened.

What do you want from me?

Clyde

Logan waited for a reply. When the bell rang signaling the end of classes, he was still waiting. When Chase and Michael returned for dinner, he was still waiting. Long after he could hear Michael's insufferable snoring, he was still waiting.

It wasn't until dinner the next day did he finally hear the ping from his computer. He shot up from his seat at the table grabbed his bag and laptop and raced toward the ocean, leaving a group of confused friends staring after him.

What do you think I want from you? I want you to be real. Truthful. Maybe even a little nice. None of this 'I'm this person' and 'I have this and this' and 'my reputation is this'.

Look, if you're real with me and you're really not a nice person, that's okay. I'll live with it, but until you can be real with me… you're never going to be a better person.

And I told Mr. Cockroach that you're head strong and hard to deal with, but that you're working hard and that I believe you can change.

Don't prove me wrong.

What did you do to land yourself this in this position anyways? It's only ruining your day and mine.

Yours,

Camille.

Logan read the message twice. Three times. She hadn't rated him out after all.

Well if you really have to know I made a mess in Chem.

Logan sighed, he was tempted to leave it at that but he felt that he owed her more of an explanation. He was basically ruining her life, if she didn't have to talk to him to stay on the honor role she probably wouldn't put up with him at all. And after how he treated Chase and Michael… he felt like he had to come clean.

It really sucks when you're half the man I should be, and you're a girl. How does that work out?

…It was a big mess actually. I started by stealing the frogs from the Biology lab and setting them free… they were jumping around everywhere by the time I got to Chem. And then I made a laughing gas in Chem. which wasn't exactly the lab we were supposed to be doing… and to make matters worse I set off a stink bomb while the teacher was trying to evacuate us out of the classroom. All of that in itself was a masterpiece but what really set the Dean off was when the girls started running around in towels because the frogs got into their dorms and invaded the showers…

Usually I would have had an accomplice in all of this, so we'd share the punishment but my accomplice ran away four years ago and I haven't seen her since…

You know… I may not be a saint or whatever but I'm not a bad person, I know that's hard to believe after everything I've already put you through and the whole Chemistry thing… but it's true.

Logan stared at his screen and the more he sat there staring the more angry he got and the more helpless he felt.

I don't know how to be a better me and I already am. WHY ARE GIRLS SO CONFUSING?

I have a lot of questions I want to ask "why" to.

Why should I trust you?

Why am I such a jerk?

Why do you want to know so much about me?

Why do you keep pushing?

Why did you suddenly have uber bitch powers?

Why did Dana leave?

Why didn't I stop her?

Why do I care?

Why did Michael give me that stupid photo?

Why can't I paint anymore?

Why can't I find the right soundtrack for my life?

Why can't I let go?

Why is she so beautiful?

Why do my friends even like me?

Why don't my friends mention her name around me anymore?

Why can't I do anything right?

Why, why and why. Why do I have more questions than answers.

Logan didn't read his message twice, he clicked send before he could stop himself. A better person. Something about that made him freeze, it was what he wanted. Answers and to be a better person than he was right now. To be able to be there for his friends, not attack them. To talk to girls without treating them like objects. To find Dana… and give her a reason to come back.

Why did his entire life seem to revolve around Dana?

{5}

I don't have all the answers for you. Just a few.

I want to know you because I feel like I should.

I'm pushing you because you can be so much more than you are. You can be better.

'Uber Bitch' as you call it… you deserved every second of that e-mail. You need to learn how to control your temper.

Your friends probably like you because they see something in you that you can't see in yourself. Friends have a funny way of knowing you better than you think they do.

Dana…

I feel like asking more about her, but at the same time I'm not sure if I should.

It's never too late to be nice to someone. I knew a Dana. She's on the honor role. She's the 'go to person' here. If you have a problem you run to her, she's considered 'the kindest person in the academy'. I'm not sure if that's the same person… she's been here for a few years…

If you regret it so much… why don't you try to get a hold of her? Would anyone have her e-mail? Or phone number?

Yours,

Camille

Logan scoffed. Like he hadn't already thought of that in four years since she left. But he was grateful she hadn't said anything about his Chem. class disaster.

Dana was never a good kid. She was every bit as much trouble as I was. Starting food fights, and fist fights, and fights of pretty much every kind. We called her Danger Cruz, she and I barely got along.

I don't think your honor student know-it-all and my feisty time bomb are the same person. Can someone change that much in four years? If you're born feisty and change into a saint… wouldn't that be like... not being true to yourself? Dana wouldn't change herself into someone she's not. She's not like that.

Why would someone who's perfect change to fit the mold? She is the mold.

Clyde

Logan laid in his bed not sleeping. Chase was snoring on the bottom bunk and Michael was talking in his sleep on the single. But that's not the part that bothered him, what bothered him was that he had to think about Dana after he'd spent so much time trying not to. Though he wanted to ignore it… Dana was the only person he'd ever really felt connected with. And he'd turned into a mess after she left. It was like he was trying to pull twice as many stunts, twice the amount… for him and for her. Spring break was about to start on Friday and all he'd be able to think about is Dana. Oh how he hated life.

You're right. Compromising yourself for whatever reason is wrong. If you're one of those people who like to spice things up then that's who you are and you shouldn't change. And if you're one of those saints, as you call them, then that's who you are. For someone who tries to be mean all the time, you sure are insightful. I bet that you'd have no trouble passing all your classes if you actually put your mind to it.

Yours,

Camille

Logan was half way home by the time he read Camille's message. He smiled because he knew she was right, he was pretty good at academics when he wanted to be. He was really good at chemistry, even though he tried hard not to let anyone notice. How else could he have pulled of that stunt – which he was sure was going to go down in PCA history.

Do you have spring break now too? Or is it just us PCA kids?

Clyde

He was happy that things had gone back to normal after his breakdown, he felt like such an idiot for blowing his lid like that. Idiotic and completely embarrassed but things were normal now, he actually liked Camille, she was a good girl and he knew he wasn't going to hold any grudges against him or use what he'd said against him. It was comfortable, he liked talking to her.

He was just settling into his room when he heard the ping on his laptop. He turned to the computer with a smile on his face.

Nope. I still have classes. No breaks for us Frenchies over here.

Actually, I'm not French. I'm not native to these lands. I transferred a few years ago.

You wouldn't believe the looks I got when I walked in here. I was like a totally different species.

It was awesome.

Yours,

Camille

Logan literally burst out into laughter at her message.

I guess I'm not the only one who likes the attention.

Clyde

Logan felt a pang of guilt when he wrote the name 'Clyde' he felt like he was lying to her, and it felt wrong. They were starting to trust each other and he couldn't even tell her his real name… he felt like a total jerk. But he felt uneasy about revealing himself now.

Secret time!

I'm not really a goody-goody. I mean I wanted to be on the honor role and get awards and things so I could prove to everyone that I'm not just some crazy person who walked in the door… I just didn't realize until talking to you, what a high price I'd been paying all this time. This isn't me. I don't even like helping people most of the time. I like my space. I like my art. I like all the paintings on my wall… and I don't like people to see them or admire them, they're mine and I want them for my eyes…

Guess I'm just selfish hmm..?

Yours,

Camille…

Logan grinned. She's broken out of saint-hood, finally. And he was finally getting used to reading her prissy font. In fact he kind of liked it, it was so her.

You paint? Or do art… I paint, so I guess I just assume artists paint. But sculpting is good too and sketching and … uh… other things. I sketch when I don't have a canvas in front of me… but I always crumple up the paper and throw it away.

What kind of art do you have?

Most people don't know I paint, so don't go around telling people. Dana was the only one who knew and that's because she stole most of mine before she left.

That reminds me, you're in an art school, I never asked you what you do there… what's your specialty?

He didn't write Clyde this time. He felt bad for writing Clyde, but he wasn't sure how to just say 'yeah… my name isn't Clyde.. it's actually…' ping, mail.

My art was given to me by a friend; I didn't do most of it. I dabble in a bit of painting. It reminds me of him every time I pick up a paintbrush, so sometimes it's difficult to start but I was so inspired by his art that I wanted to paint beside him… in a sense. I guess I just wanted my art to be next to his, it's like we're connected on a different level… I know cheesy and all… but you haven't seen his art so you can't judge.

I've made some pieces that even I get teary when I look at them. It's like my art is replying to his.

Yours,

Camille

Logan read the e-mail a few times before closing his laptop. He looked around his room. It was open and the sun was streaming in through the windows, the landscape was beautiful and he couldn't wait until sunset. The hills would turn a luminescent color and the sky would look almost transparent in its pinks and oranges and everything would be good again… at least that's what it always felt like. He suddenly felt the urge to paint. Something he'd been avoiding since the day Dana left. At first he painted a lot, trying to capture the last feelings that soon faded and fled, and then he stopped. He couldn't recall the feelings anymore and it all felt meaningless. He opened his closet and started pulling out his easel and his paints, it was time to bring life into his paintings again.

"Logan!" His father called from downstairs.

"What?" Logan yelled and then he heard Camille in his head telling him to be nicer. "I mean…Coming!" Reluctantly he left his canvas in the bare state that it was and ran down the stairs.

"What's up dad?" He asked walking into the study.

"Well you ran to your room right after you got here, I haven't gotten to see my boy since Christmas… don't you miss me?" His dad smiled.

Logan smiled too, "Of course I missed you." He gave his dad a hug and realized he hadn't actually hugged his dad in a really long time. It felt nice.

His dad was surprised by the sudden contact but hugged Logan back with vigor.

"Okay dad… dad… you're hurting me." Logan tried to gently push his dad away from him.

"So what are you going to do today?" His dad asked still smiling.

"Well actually… I was thinking of painting a little." Logan looked anywhere but at his dad. Before Dana left he'd been encompassed in his art he barely spoke to anyone when he was home. It was his escape and his dad had tried to shower him with gifts and material things to get him out of his room and away from his canvas.

"It's about time." His dad said softly.

"What?" Logan asked stunned.

"I know I discouraged it before… and I was wrong. I was just worried because you spent all your time covered in paint and staring into something I didn't understand. I don't understand your art. But I'm going to try to. I don't want you do give up something that has always been a big part of your life… it actually worries me more that you don't paint anymore." His dad smiled and patted Logan's shoulder gently. "I think it's been too long since you were soaked in color."

"Wow dad… that's… that's almost poetic." Logan said.

"You think?" His dad said excitedly. "I've been taking poetry classes, trying to keep myself young you know, it'd be great if it was actually working. I feel like a dud when I'm in that classroom."

Logan laughed and smiled at his father. How had he gone so long without this relationship?

{6}

I started painting again.

Painting is the only honest thing in my life, It's the only real thing about me and when I picked up my paintbrush again I felt like everything was starting to make sense… like the sunset and the life in the air… was there for me.

There's life in my paintings again… I wish I could give them to Dana…

You mentioned replying to his paintings… and even though I don't know where she is or what she's doing… I feel like I'm replying to unspoken words… but not words… more like messages. Secret messages.

I have a portrait of her I painted after she left… I wish I could give it to her. She'd probably laugh and say that it looks nothing like her. I didn't use the colors that are usually part of her skin tone… I used bright colors for her face… yellows and greens and purples and pinks and blues… colors that don't make sense on the human face… and then there's an almost translucent cover of blacks and greys and whites. I don't know what I was thinking when I did it but when I look at it now it's so her. Black and grey's and whites are the side of her that she showed to everyone else, the cover. But the colors… those are the proof of the person I know is there… the bright, open, wonderful person that's hiding behind the dark front.

Does that make sense?

I wonder if you can picture it…

….. I miss her

Once again he didn't write the pseudonym at the end of his message. It was too dishonest and he didn't want to lie to her anymore, he didn't want to tell her the truth either but at least he wasn't continuing the lie… as much.

I can understand that and it's beautiful. It's so great that you're painting again! I'm happy for you and excited for you. That painting sounds beautiful… just trying to picture it in my mind doesn't seem to do it justice but it's the best I can do so it'll suffice.

You're home for the break right? How is that?

I'm curious… I've been in France so long it's like the rest of the world doesn't exist. What's it like there? Where is there anyways?

Yours

Camille

Logan smiled.

I live in California. And it's beautiful here. I'm going to sound like a complete sissy right now but don't hold that against me.

You're an artist so you might understand.

When I look up at the sky tonight it's like someone painted it just for me. There aren't many stars out tonight but there are clouds. Big blue clouds that seem to almost glow around the edges, it's like there's s city in the clouds and the lights are shining through the cracks like a train through fog. Everything seems to be just floating while the crescent moon shines softly above them and the sky is so dark it's like blacks and navys mixing together to create a color so perfect that even the heavens couldn't have imagined a color more incredible.

I wish you could see it tonight… any painting I make will never do it justice and no picture could ever capture its perfection. It illuminates every part of me. Despite the dark sky the light around the clouds and through the clouds are more than enough to make me feel like I'm witnessing heaven.

Everything about tonight is brilliant. It feels like anything could happen and everything will work out.

…

Just realized you asked another question, sorry about that… I got caught up in the night.

Um… being home is great. Dad is being really supportive of my painting he's excited that I'm bathed in colors. I never thought I'd hear him say anything like that, he used to try so hard to make sure that I didn't sit in front of my canvas all day long but now he's encouraging it. I'm trying to show up for regular mealtimes and spend time with him so that I don't make him feel lonely again… I don't want to worry him.

But it's nice being home. It feels like I've been back here for a long time even though I only got here two days ago.

Now I'm the one sending outrageously long e-mails, I've turned into a chick… I mean girl. I suck. Damn.

Despite feeling like a girl Logan was happy that he'd managed to change as much as he had in a short time. It wasn't a huge change but he was making an effort to stay in contact with Chase and Michael while they were at home for the break and he was trying not to cut his dad out of his life and he'd opened up to Camille. He felt new. He finally felt like he could be the person he needed to be. He might finally be able to give Dana a reason to come back.

{7}

Logan opened his mail the moment he woke up. He wanted to reply to Camille before he had breakfast with his dad.

The way you described the night was breathtaking. A train through fog… that was genius, are you sure you shouldn't be writing? You're probably pretty good at English.

I'm so proud of you, you're doing so well! I can't believe it… this is the person you were meant to be… can't you feel it? You don't need to be that jerk, you're good the way you are. You should think about sharing your art with your friends, showing them that side of you could actually help your friendships. And you should think about showing it to Mr. Cockroach, he might even lift your punishment if he knows you can channel your energy into something so beautiful.

This is great! You're making progress! And you make me want to paint! Like really paint! Get my hands dirty, throw everyone out of my room and be… bathed in color as you said.

You and your dad sure have a way with words.

And I love how long that message was, it's like you finally trust me. It's a great feeling.

Thank you.

I feel truly blessed to have met you.

Yours

Camille.

Something about Camille's message made him feel uneasy. It was like she was trying to tell him something, and he really wasn't happy with what he thought she was trying to say.

It sounds like you're trying to say goodbye.

Why?

Logan really wanted to wait for the answer but he didn't want to miss breakfast with his dad, he was seriously going to make an effort to be a better person whether or not Camille was around to witness it.

It wasn't until closer to noon that Logan managed to make it to his computer. His dad had wanted to take him out for breakfast and it turned out being a brunch because they were running so late. It was fun but it was difficult to think about food when Camille had unsettled him so much.

Well you don't really need me anymore.

You're changing yourself and I can tell Mr. Cockroach that and then you'll be off the hook. Your punishment is over you don't have to message me anymore.

It's done now. You should be happy.

Yours

Camille

Logan sat silent for a moment. He couldn't believe this was happening. Did he just repel all the good women in his life? First Dana and now Camille, what was it about him that just threw them out of his life like a catapult? Why did the women that he really wanted to be in his life always run away from him? Was he really that bad?

So… you make me open up to you and then you leave.

What's that about? I was finally getting used to talking to you, I don't have anyone else to talk to like this… you're the only one who understands. Why do you have to go?

I don't want this. How could I be happy?

If I've done something wrong, please tell me and I'll correct it.

You can fix me if you want… I don't really care.

Just don't leave.

I have no one else.

He felt like a complete idiot for sounding so needy but what else was he supposed to do? She was trying to get away from him, just like Dana had… He wasn't going to make that mistake twice. He wasn't going to just stand there and watch her walk away the way he had when Dana left. This time he was going to speak up, beg if he had to.

Clyde…

I'm not trying to cause you any pain… It's just time. We can't keep this up forever. You've learned the lessons you were supposed to learn, what am I supposed to do? Lie to the Dean and tell him you still have a ways to go? I wouldn't lie for you at the beginning, why would I lie for you now?

I don't need to fix you, you already did that. You don't need me anymore. You haven't done anything wrong. You've done everything right.

It was never my intention for you to open up and then say goodbye. I never thought you would open up to me… it's a miracle you did. And if you can open up to me then you can open up to your friends… they won't hold that against you, they'll accept you. They have so far haven't they?

I'm not the person you need to confide in.

That's what friends are for.

Goodbye Clyde,

Camille.

Logan felt like someone punched him in the gut but he replied instantly, there was something he wanted before she stopped reading his e-mails.

If you're going to say goodbye at least say goodbye to me. Clyde isn't my real name. It's a name I used for this pen pal assignment so that no one would recognize my name. I didn't want the added complications.

I'm sorry I've been lying to you about it.

But Clyde isn't my name.

When Logan hit send he felt like a weight had lifted off his shoulders, and then he felt nervous. Scared that Camille would hate him or not understand… or that she wouldn't respond… As the hours went by his fear increased, he tried to go through the motions of the day normally but he kept checking his e-mail every ten minutes. He didn't go anywhere without his laptop. Almost two days later he got a reply, it said only one thing.

Who are you?

Logan took a breath and replied.

Logan.

My name is Logan.

My dad is Malcolm Reese he's relatively famous and even if you don't know who he is… I didn't want to chance it.

I am Logan Reese.

And if you know a girl by the name of Dana Cruz… you've found who I've been looking for.

The reply came almost instantaneously.

I know who you seek.

About 5"7 , Latino, Curly caramel hair… Brown eyes, sometimes Hazel…

Dana Cruz.

I know her.

Logan's voice stuck in his throat. He wasn't sure where to go from here… But he knew one thing.

That portrait belongs to her. If you give me your address or the address of the school, I will send it to you… can you give it to her? It's wrong of me to keep it.

Please.

I'm begging you,

Logan.

When the reply came he was more surprised than anything.

Only if you promise not to show up. Just mail the painting.

Only the painting.

Logan hadn't thought about flying all the way to France, but now the idea was there… He didn't need the address if he went to France. He could just look up the school and go there himself. He could see Dana. With or without Camille's help. He didn't reply to her e-mail.

Within 24 hours Logan was on a plane to France. He e-mailed Camille from his seat on the flight.

I'm sorry, I can't promise that.

Like most of her messages it arrived in record time.

Then I can't help you.

I don't think she wants to see you.

I'm sorry, you're going to have to safe keep that painting a while longer.

Logan tried not the let the second sentence bother him… she was going to see him whether she liked it or not. He wasn't flying all the way to France for her to blow him off.

A few wrong turns and some poorly spoken French later Logan arrived at ASA with his painting in one hand and the other hand on the door knob.

His first thought of ASA was that it was less like a School and more like a Palace. Everything seemed huge, even the rooms he happened to pass by seemed more like condos rather than the dinky dorm rooms he was living in. He didn't want to ask the front desk, in case they threw him out so he searched out some students.

He asked around for Dana Cruz, but nobody knew who she was. After almost an hour of looking he finally resorted to plan B and asked for Camille.

"Camille?" A girl asked, her eyes brightened at the name "She's upstairs. I'll take you there." He voice was heavily accented but Logan was just happy to have someone recognize a name he'd said. He tried to figure out a strategy as the elevator moved upwards. Maybe he'd be able to charm her into telling him where Dana was… or maybe he'd have to force her.

"Do you know Camille well?" The girl asked.

"We're uh… friends." Logan said. She beamed

"Upstairs is where all the honor students are, they're rooms are the biggest and most uh… pretty."

Logan noticed that the girl had some trouble with her English but went along with it anyways. Before he knew it, he was outside Camille's door saying goodbye to the girl who'd helped him. Nervously he knocked on the door, almost hoping she wouldn't answer.

The door swung open and the person who greeted him wasn't at all who he was expecting. She looked him up and down and then looked to the painting wrapped in his hand. She didn't smile, or laugh, or ask him who he was, she simply stared at him as if trying to compose her thoughts, trying to figure out a way to diffuse a situation that hadn't yet started.

Logan started at her with absolute disbelief.

"I told you not to come here." Her voice sounded almost angry, but it seemed more concerned and worried than angry.

"Dana?" Logan sputtered out. This was unbelievable. The girl who stood in front of him wasn't a prim and proper young lady, like he'd expected. Standing in front of him was a tall girl of Latino nature with long straight caramel hair, curves to die for, brown eyes and a look in her eyes that Logan couldn't forget even if he wanted to.

"It's Camille." She corrected.

"No" Logan said, "It's Dana, you're Dana. You mean I've been pouring my soul out to you this whole time and you never said anything?"

"What did you want me to say? Oh you're Logan? Whoops, you've been secretly confessing your love to me this whole time… my bad." Dana said sarcastically.

Logan blushed deep red, "I was not confessing my love for you." He defended.

"Whatever. Undying love or not, I told you not to come."

"You suggested it, more or less, and I ignored it." Logan's voice was rising.

"Well you shouldn't be here!" She shouted, "I don't want to see you."

"Well I'm so sorry that I missed you! And that I wanted to see you! And that I've been waiting to see you again for four years!" He yelled back at her. Dana suddenly looked both ways and then pulled Logan into her room before shutting the door.

"You don't know what kind of position you're putting me in! And I can't believe you were just yelling in the hall, now everyone is going to get nosy and wonder what's going on outside Model Student Camille's room. You moron!" Dana shouted in hushed tones. But Logan wasn't listening. The moment he was thrown into Dana's room he couldn't focus on anything else other than the art.

It was his. His paintings that she'd taken, the ones he'd made for her… and her 'replies'. They were side by side framing all the walls almost as if they were meant for each other. The art complimented each other, it was like Night and Day, two things that belonged together no matter what. He walked slowly towards the art. He put his painting down against a couch, his hand gently stroked the textures. Acrylic paint… just like his. He walked the room slowly, not even hearing Dana's calls to him. He felt like the breath was being taken out of him with every step, with every painting.

"Logan!" She nearly shouted. Logan turned around abruptly.

"Where's the ones that make you cry?" He questioned.

"What?" She said.

"The paintings… that make you teary. Where are those ones?" Logan asked again, but before she even had a chance to answer he was opening every door he saw. He passed by the bathroom and the closet before he found her room. He started to push open the door when suddenly Dana was standing between him and what he wanted.

"You can't just invade my privacy because you want to." She glared at him.

"The way you did mine?" He challenged. Dana faltered for a moment.

"I didn't force you to say those things Logan." She said.

"Not just those Dana… the paintings you took… you paint now. Don't you get it? Those are a part of me. Those are my feelings, my thoughts, my vulnerabilities, those are my privacy. Broadcasted to anyone who walks into your room." Logan gave her a hard meaningful stare. "You put your most meaningful paintings in your room. I gave mine to you. Those are the ones that make me 'teary', those are my heart. Basically. The things I can't say, and they're on your wall."

"I love them." She blurted. All the pressure Logan was putting on her made her crack. She hadn't been around him in a long time, she hadn't been around anyone who attacked her like that in a long time. She didn't know how to handle it.

"What?" He asked, his mind went blank and his expression turned soft.

"I love them." She repeated quietly. "Your paintings."

"Loving them is the same as loving me, we're the same." Logan pressed. Dana said nothing. She kept her eyes on the ground. She stepped aside and opened her bedroom door. Logan stepped inside and turned on the light.

It was so Dana. Black and red everywhere. Candles and an iPod dock. It was like blast from the past, it was perfect. It was part of what he missed. He looked at the wall across from the foot of her bed. It was lined with paintings. One was his. Two on each side were hers. They were beautiful. His was a picture of the sun setting on the sea, the same spot he'd been when he first e-mailed 'Camille'. The two on the right were the stars and the moon, it was so exotic. It was like the stars and the moon were longing for the sun. The two on the left were black. Simply black. Together they formed a series with the sunset as the centerpiece. The left represented the abyss that no sun left us with, and the right represented the beauty and the longing left once the sun has finally set. It was beautiful.

Logan looked at Dana. She was staring that the 5 paintings with tears behind her eyes.

"You accuse me of confessing my love to you… when you've painted yours." He said softly. Dana turned away immediately and walked out of the room. Logan reached for the paintings but couldn't touch them, it was like they were sacred and touching them would be like defiling them. He followed Dana out of the room.

"Open it." He said, and motioned towards the painting he'd left against the couch. Dana looked at him and then at the package. Carefully she moved towards it and began to reveal the painting within. She looked at it and began to cry.

"Why…" She sobbed, "Why do you see me so well?"

Logan didn't know what to say. He watched her stare at the painting, tears falling down her cheeks as she kept looking.

"I…" He started, "I need you in my life." Dana tried to speak

"No, just let me get this out." He insisted, "I've never let you go. I've missed you so much. I zone out in class just thinking about you. I can't even think about another girl without comparing her to you, you're perfect. Your reputation, your attitude, the way you walk, the way you talk… from shooting hoops to your insanely brilliant mind… you're perfect… and beautiful. I like everything about you, inside and out. It's been so hard living without you. After you left I couldn't look at myself for weeks, I felt pathetic… I'd just let the most important person in my life walk out of it. And if Camille is who you are from now on… if that's who you choose to be, then I'll change… I'll be whatever you want me to be. Just don't push me out again. I'm broken without you."

Dana didn't know what to say. More sobs left her mouth, more tears fell down her cheeks.

"You.." She stuttered, "You…you said changing who you are is stupid… why… why?"

"Why would I change?" He asked. She nodded. "Because I love you. And I would do anything for you."

Dana couldn't breathe.

"I have a picture of us. From that dance… you wore that really crazy red dress that looked amazing on you. We're making funny faces at each other. It makes me laugh when I look at it. It's under my pillow back at PCA." Logan laughed just thinking about the picture. "Don't make me be all mushy and then you reject me flat out."

Dana laughed through the tears.

"You saw the paintings." She said. "You know how I feel."

"I assume how you feel, I don't know. You haven't told me." Logan said. "Do you know how hard it was for me to get all that out? I don't… do that kind of thing."

Dana sighed. "I have a picture too. It's in my room. I can't look at it though; I can't look at your face. I zone out all the time when I'm alone. I paint for you. I'm an idiot for walking away from you. I can't have a good day or a bad day without you here, it's like I need you to be me. I miss you, I need you… I'm only me when I'm with you…" She was blushing crimson, "Is that good enough?"

"You missed the important parts." Logan said.

Dana blushed more.

"I… I love you." She replied quietly.

"And…" Logan prodded.

"And?" She asked.

"And you'll go out with me." He said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"No." She said. "I can't." She started to panic. This was too much, too fast.

"Because you're in France?" He scoffed.

"I'm different now." This wasn't what she wanted, this wasn't what she'd worked so hard for.

"But I'll change…"

"I don't want you to change Logan, I love you the way you are." Dana insisted. Her brain was trying to find a solution. One that wouldn't hurt him… too much.

"Dana… please… if you're going to ruin this for me, at least give me today to change your mind." The look in Logan eyes when he said these words made Dana look away from him.

"One night. And it's almost over. What do you want to do?" Dana replied.

"Nothing." Logan said.

"Nothing?" Dana repeated.

"Nothing." He confirmed, "I want to sit on that couch with you and hold you, and do nothing. I don't want to go rushing around the city when this could be my last night with you. I want to hold you until the very last second."

Dana didn't know what to do. If they went out she could be cold, distant… she could let him go. If they stayed in and she just laid in his arms all night, how could she send him away? How would she find the courage?

"You have to go." She said suddenly. She couldn't do it. She wouldn't be able to say no. He couldn't stay, she couldn't lay in his arms in perfect bliss. He was ruining everything. "Leave, and don't come back."

"Dana…." Logan pleaded.

"No. I'm Camille now, and Camille is your pen pal. She's an honor student who helps other people; she's going places and is going to have a successful life. You can't be here. You can't bring up a past I left behind four years go." She was panicking.

"What about all that stuff you wrote in your messages? About compromising yourself? And honesty? What happened to that? Was it all lies?" Logan's words sounded harsh but he looked hurt.

"I… I was feeling empowered. For a moment I wanted to be me again, but this is who I am – "

"NO!" Logan shouted. "This is not who you are! This is who you're forcing yourself to be." He grabbed her arm, "Don't you see that I need you?" He looked like any second tears would start forming behind his eyes. He looked desperate. And he was.

"Don't you see that I can't love you?" Dana said these words so quietly that Logan almost didn't hear them and he certainly didn't understand them.

"You already do." He reminded her, he ached to smooth her hair, to touch her, to kiss her… but Dana shook her head, salty liquid was dripping down her face.

"I can't be what you want Logan. I can't be what you need… I can't love you. You need to leave." Dana didn't look at him. She couldn't. Logan's grip loosened and Dana's arm fell back to her side.

"You admit that you love me, and now you say that you can't. Which is it? Do you love me? Or don't you?" Logan's voice wasn't strong like it usually was, it was soft and worried. He was scared. Scared of an answer, the one answer he wished he never got.

"I don't love you." Dana said. Her voice was sharp and definite and her eyes stared right into his like dark crystals. Logan heard a snapping sound, it echoed through his head, smothering everything like a tidal wave. He knew what it was not by the sound but by the feeling that accompanied it. His eyes went a darker shade and tears spilled out, almost like the tidal wave had forced them out of his body. The water kept flowing and the wave kept raging.

Dana watched on as a grief stricken Logan stood in front of her unmoving. She reached up to touch him but pulled her hand away at the last moment, she couldn't. She couldn't reach out to him now. It was over. She had ended it.

The snapping was the sound of his thread of life breaking. He looked more like an empty shell than a human being. And perhaps that's what he was. Empty. The love he'd secretly pursued and hoped for – gone. The one thing that kept him sane – gone. The hope of becoming a better person than he was – gone. Everything that mattered to him was gone. It shattered when she dangled his dreams in front of him and then crushed them with her bare hands.

Words flashed in Logan's mind.

Sticks and Stones can break my bones.

His finished the poem.

But words can leave me broken.

Darkness consumed him.

---

So yes, I understand it's rushed and there's so much to work on.

But it seemed like letting you, the readers tell me what I can do to make the story more enjoyable and more captivating for you seemed more useful that staring at the words and letting them mesh together so much in my mind that I don't know what I'm looking at anymore - which is usually what happens when I work on something for a long time.

The things you've written in your reviews are so beautiful that even though it's 5:30 in the morning and I haven't slept yet... I needed to post for you guys. I needed to let you all know that I'm still here, still kicking and I will be doing my best to motive myself so I can get back to the things that need my attention.

Long Live DL.

- Jiade103