You are surprised not to find yourself branded the 'slut that seduced Logan to frame his father' when you return to Neptune High after months of hospital visits and intensive counselling. You are only a few days late to the new school year, but it seems as if you are already way out of the loop. When you ask Wallace about it, his response is much too enthusiastic.
"You missed it girl, Logan punched the first guy to try and say anything. Your boy, Duncan looked ready to take down the next."
You look at him incredulously, half wondering why you are surprised at all. The pair of them have never been consistent in their affections or lack thereof.
When you finally talk to Logan he looks scared to get too close – as if you are going to burst into flame as soon as he gets within five feet of you.
"Be careful what you wish for, right?" he mutters self-deprecatingly.
"I said oven, not flaming fridge."
And you laugh through your tears because he is trying and you are ready to accept that and his hand is tentative on your arm.
He smiles tightly and you try not to think about things going back to how they were. After everything that has transpired before and over summer you can't see yourself straddling Logan Echolls again anytime soon. You wish that didn't bother you.
Logan doesn't watch the news but it seems everybody else does and stills from the Lilly/Aaron videos manage to find themselves onto his locker everyday at school. You feel sick when you think about him finding them that first day and then the second and the third, et cetera. At least Clemmons has the decency to suspend anyone found anywhere near Logan's locker with scotch tape and magazine clippings.
Duncan is more difficult when you finally catch up with him – normally so accommodating, he is acting almost backwards. He behaves like touching you now would be worse than when he thought you were his sister – you wonder if maybe it's because now you are another lie his parents fed him.
Clemmons is actually being civil to you and the other teachers seem to follow his lead – even ones who hated you with a passion that was probably illegal, last year, are giving you second chances, late deadlines and excuses. It probably isn't in your best interests for them to indulge you though – because being you, you can't help but push the limits, see how far you can get.
Your birthday is unexciting – your dad's still in the hospital and Wallace is too hyper to deal with for long. Rifling through the mail you recognise unexpected handwriting, opening the card you see he's signed it "love, Logan" – but he's just being polite.
Their mothers all taught them how to write letters. It's an important lesson in etiquette.
There's nothing else in the card, no accompanying gift and you realise that he doesn't have anything solid and tangible left to offer you. No more grand gestures to make. Just him.
His money could buy you a lot of things but none of them would matter that much to you. Not as much as the three unnecessary Xs scrawled beneath his name do at any rate.
Duncan sends you flowers with a card that reads "congrats!" and you wonder what you achieved. Just because Lilly didn't make it past sixteen doesn't mean you'll all struggle breathing.
You spend the rest of the day sitting with your dad trying to persuade the nurses to let him have a piece of cake. You baked it yourself, happy birthday Veronica.
When Logan turns up on your doorstep in the middle of the night – jacket held tightly around himself – your first thought is: oh, God, who died? But there isn't anyone left to really make an impact.
He stands blankly until your hands reach up, wrapping around his neck. His hands cling to your waist with his first sob and you stagger backwards – unprepared for his weight. He breaks down and you don't know what to do.
Taking a deep breath you try to stay standing, 'shh' into his hair and don't ask him what's wrong – you'll find out tomorrow in the papers, alongside everyone else. He cries into your arm, eyes wet and sticky, and you want to cry too – but it's not your turn.
The next morning the newspapers hold only big black headlines with no pictures, however once on the Internet it takes only a few minutes before you are staring back at a vague shapeless skeleton with Lynn Echolls' teeth. You suck in a painful breath.
Duncan looks mildly disgusted by your chocolate milk, in an amused way that twists his face into something comical.
"Should come from the cow this way," you defend, lips pulling off the straw.
He shakes his head and gulps from a bottle of water. Duncan will always be a full-sugar soda kind of guy but his mother's influences are easy to spot. The silence between you is just starting to get awkward when Wallace arrives with a lunch tray full of jello.
"Look at the company I keep," you wink. "This is totally nutritional."
"If you grade nutrition on a curve," Wallace adds.
"Which I do."
Duncan smiles awkwardly because he can't fit himself into your new life and you don't seem willing to fit into his.
"Logan's in Vegas," he mentions, "so he won't be around for a few days."
You wish that for all the gambling, drinking and probably strippers he didn't look so good. He looks like he's slept well and de-stressed. Maybe he's just had a lot of sex, you think bitterly while you cling to your own faux-virginity.
Logan finds his comfort in physicality; he's not much for words. He likes them, can manipulate them easily – but he never says what he wants to. Can never just lay something out straight. So you think he probably just had a lot of sex – and you try not to be jealous about that, because they found his mother's body and after all, you broke up with him.
Duncan's still in love with you and you're still crushing on Logan and he's giving everyone mixed signals. First he's sober then he's not, first he's sorry then he's not, first he wants you – then he's gone. Every few weeks he seems to disappear for longer and longer, using the remainder of his parents' credit cards – not to mention his own – to jet off to somewhere exotic and memory free.
You get a postcard and he has the audacity to talk about the weather. You want to rip it up so badly, but you keep reading it instead. Over and over until your eyes blur, then you throw it in the trash.
Everything used to be about Lilly – now it seems to be all about you, two boys vying for affection, two choices that are just as hard. Your face in the magazines that are still being taped to Logan's locker. Aaron's face photocopied onto cheap white paper with "I'll get you!!" scrawled in marker below, stuck on yours.
Logan sees it over your shoulder, shaking his head awfully when you look back to watch him walk away – fists clenched. He and Duncan talk in a corner of the corridor and you find the sight of Duncan's hands, solid and sensible on Logan's shoulders, comforting. They're still best friends and when Logan pulls back to punch a set of lockers, grazing his knuckles till they bleed, indenting the metal badly, it is Duncan who drags him away before his hands are broken and walks to the nurse with him for band-aids.
You have a habit of picking at water blisters and you end up with band-aids all over your hands. Wallace complains that he's going to find a band-aid in his cookie one of these days and you just smile – picking at the skin surreptitiously. You seem to have picked up a few nervous habits, but like you tell yourself, as long as you know that they are nervous habits and that you're doing them – things can't get too out of control.
You and your dad go to the zoo together. Duncan and his dad go to court together. Logan and his dad are never seen together, ever. And Wallace's dad is dead. So you don't complain when yours takes you on cheap days out and buys you sundaes instead of ponies and Porsches. Lilly had wanted a car for graduation because despite having the money to hand out cars like candy Jake and Celeste had insisted she share with Duncan. It was Duncan's car now and you had never worked out why they hadn't just bought him a new one after Lilly died.
Your dad wants to buy you a new car but there's just not the money right now – so you drive his while he's in the hospital and you bus it otherwise. Duncan offers you a lift almost everyday but you think you'd rather walk home than endure the dreaded silences twice in twenty-four hours. Logan knows better than to ask, he just speeds past the awkwardness and resentment in a bright yellow blur.
You fail your first set of exams and end up in Clemmons' office. He looks weary – like he knows how it's all going to play out already. Later you find out that Logan failed too, Duncan got Cs. Wallace got mostly Bs and you're happy for him but you're kind of busy watching your life disintegrate down into letters. Z for zoo. F for fail. L for… well, too many things, like, love and life and Lilly, Logan, Lianne – loser. You hand your dad an infinite amount of pages covered in red Fs and his expression is pained. You lose at life.
You didn't go to your Junior prom – nobody you know did. You wonder if you would have gone with Logan – if things had been different. You think you would have, and you can be bitter about that if you want to because angsting over ex-boyfriends is incredibly normal and healthy. It's expected. When your dad asked about Logan properly you told him – with a lump in your throat – that it was nothing really.
"He's not the killer, honey."
"I know," you reply as calmly as you can, "it doesn't matter."
"I'm sure he would understand."
"His mom's dead, Lilly's dead, his dad's a murderer and his best friend ran away to Cuba – then I told him I thought he was a murderer while we were dating."
"Maybe he'd like someone to talk to."
"I doubt it would be me."
And that's why you didn't call Logan all summer; your reasons for avoiding Duncan were different but just as valid. Of that you're sure. After all, where's the fun in telling your ex-boyfriend – the boy who slept with you while you were impaired and he thought you were his sister – that you don't want to 'give it another shot'?
You and Wallace watch a movie every Saturday night, it might not seem that exciting but you love it and as you tell him: Friday night is the real party night around here. Not that you party right now.
"I can't say I'm not suspicious…" Wallace starts when you close the door on Logan, who had managed to interrupt movie night with a completely unannounced appearance. You're not even back on the couch before your eyes start to drift back towards the door anxiously.
"Go," he mumbles through a mouthful of popcorn, "but I ain't pausing."
You grant him a little quirk of your mouth and run outside to find Logan in the middle of opening his car door.
"Logan!"
He hears and ignores you, so you step in front of his car. It's stupid and childish but you really don't think he'll run you over, and it's probably the only way you'll stop him from running. He likes to run.
"I thought you were busy," he asks petulantly, through the open window.
"What do you think you're doing?"
He just shrugs and you wrap your arms across your chest, waiting him out. Eventually you step closer to the driver's side, curling your fingers around the bottom edge of the electric window and you are close enough to see his expression properly in the dim light. Your voice is quieter when you ask: "What's going on with you, Logan?" You sound desperately sad and maybe you are – just a little.
You realise chasing after him was a monumentally stupid idea when he grabs your face in his hands, pulling you flush against the car door as he kisses you through the window.
And you've already admitted it – you are still crushing on Logan, so you kiss him back. You don't think about whether it is right or fair to lead him on, you just react. And all those people who say 80% of action is reaction are right, so only 20% of you kissing him is actively your choice. And you are okay with 20% of you being stupid.
Then you remember Wallace and you pull back, embarrassed.
"Wallace is waiting for me," you explain, but he's smiling. Just the smallest bit and he nods at you, checking the rear view mirror as you step away from the car. And then he's gone.
"Weren't you wearing lipstick?" Wallace asks without looking up from the TV.
"Nope," you reply, narrowing your eyes when he glances up at you.
"Well he must have been then 'cause you've got clown mouth, girl."
You finger your lips, caught red handed, or 'passion pink' handed as the case may be. As you slide down the couch you bat a pillow off his side.
"It's not lipstick, it's lip gloss," you correct, "and I don't want to hear it."
"Hey, I don't want to taint movie night with epic tales of where your tongue's been anymore than you."
"Don't mess with me, Fennel, I know people."
You pretend not to notice the heated debate taking place between Duncan and Logan across the quad. Duncan is withdrawn, face dark and eyes hard as Logan looks like he's ready to stand on a chair and shout whatever he's saying just so that Duncan would shut up and listen. They start to draw attention – not yours of course – but their little scene only ends when Duncan takes off, Logan's hand grasping air as he reaches out to stop his friend.
When he scans the quad he sees you staring and looks away – disgusted with himself – when you blush. Because first he wants you, then he—
Actually, you just don't care enough to mope over that thought. Logan's hot and cold act just isn't that attractive anymore.
Duncan asks you when you started dating Logan and you just look at him incredulously, unsure of what to say.
"I didn't?"
"He told me."
"What did he say?"
"That he kissed you."
"And you got to 'dating' from that how?"
He looks embarrassed and you think that maybe Duncan is more naïve than you've ever had him pegged. Maybe he only kisses girls that he has more than a passing interest in.
Perhaps he's the kind of guy who would follow through with his honourable intentions, marry you if he knocked you up, even if he didn't love you. You wonder if that's really any better than being the guy who would throw money at you to make sure no one ever found out. It doesn't occur to you that this is a weird line of thought to start with – after all, Duncan could have knocked you up. But he didn't, and thank God for small mercies.
Every time you see Logan he is one of two extremes – touchy feely or closed off. You wonder if it's because of his Daddy-is-a-murderer issues, his Daddy-slept-with-my-girlfriend issues, his Mommy-jumped-off-a-bridge issues or maybe just his straight up issues with you. He refuses to exchange anything more than small talk with you most days.
He seems desperate to be close to you, with no idea how to go about it without hurting himself. You don't like aloof Logan. You'd rather have him in your face bitching at you – at least then you'd know how to react.
One day you're sitting in the quad trying to avoid the new multitude of stares people give you when you see Logan being escorted out of the school's main building. He looks like he's wound tight, just about ready to snap with his scowl painted deeply over his features. You watch with interest as he pulls his arm away from one of the men walking him to his car – slamming the driver's side door to make a scene. You bite the inside of your cheek and the next time you see Wallace you ask him for a favour.
"I didn't hear anything until they opened the door; conversation was pretty much done by then."
"You didn't hear anything?" you're more disappointed than you let on.
"Just something 'bout Clemmons wanting him to go home, boy was pretty insistent he didn't have one and they just kinda hauled him outta there."
"What did he do?"
Wallace just shrugs and you try to tame your curiosity. The last thing you need to do is turn up on his doorstep and get yourself even more involved – if it's that bad he'll turn up on yours anyway.
Duncan has taken a surprising turn to sobriety. He's never been a saint and the four of you used to drink together sometimes – but now he seems vehemently against it. You would say that he's seen the effects of Logan's drinking but Logan doesn't drink any more than usual and he doesn't seem to be drowning in it.
He tells you one day – while you're eating lunch together, because with time the awkward silences are shortening themselves – that the scariest thing about Lilly's death was his antidepressants. The numbness that narcotics cause. That's why he tells you not to take them when your counsellor considers working drugs into your system to get rid of the nightmares.
You nod quietly and then he tells you about the latest school dance he's trying to organise – you sigh in relief and start to pick through your salad again, nothing like soggy lettuce and too much vegetable oil to perk up your appetite.
You notice that Duncan tends to eat around anything he doesn't like, minimal contact as he edges things around his potatoes rather than just removing them. He's not a problem-solver but he's not a dweller either – he's just deeply, deeply subscribed to avoidance. It seems to have stuck with him, even if the drugs did not.
Duncan doesn't so much ask you out as tell you he'll be at some beach party later that night and maybe he'll see you there. You nod and try a casual smile.
"Maybe."
Your dad thinks it would be good for you to get out and Wallace just really wants to go to the party – so nobody's that amused when you crack a joke about getting too close to the bonfire. Except that it's not really a joke because you are a little nervous.
"Honey, I go out more than you," he guilt-trips.
With a slight smile you reply, "Well, it's not fair comparing me to a party animal like you."
He just stares at you until you relent – heading to wash your hair. Wallace picks you up at eight with a grin to match your scowl.
Predictably Logan is there, in surprisingly good spirits. Spirits definitely being the right word; it seems as though he's spiked his drink more times than he's refilled it.
You purse your lips and drag Wallace down the beach in the other direction – you don't want to know what drunk Logan has to say about you right now.
Duncan smiles when he sees you. It's simple and warm and just… nice.
Meg is talking to you again by the time Halloween rolls round – maybe because you haven't gone out on a single date with Duncan. When he tried to kiss you on the beach you pulled away—
"Sorry," you stutter.
"Veronica…"
You had caught Logan's eye in your peripheral vision and his smirk was almost enough for you to grab Duncan and kiss him until he choked. Not quite though, so you aren't really surprised when he gets back together with Meg and she stops avoiding you under the pretence that she isn't.
Logan turns up on your doorstep again and you're not surprised. Your dad is home and you try to ignore the eyebrow he raises as you step out onto the porch,
You have to admit that you're slightly more surprised when Logan tells you he's moving to live with family in LA. You get it – he doesn't want to, but Trina isn't available for guardianship, she's too busy in Prague.
"I'll miss you," and you don't know why you say it, after all you miss him already. He hasn't been the same. He accepts it though and ducks his head as his gaze breaks from yours.
"Look after DK for me," he laughs, and now he's the one laughing with teary eyes – but you don't call him on it. What's the point? LA isn't even that far away, but it doesn't matter, it won't be the same. You both know it.
He's suddenly realising a lot of wasted time and you smile sadly in response.
They took all your evidence from the Lilly case so that it could be used in Aaron's trial. It's nearly six months later that you find the pink, plastic spy-pen and you cry into your pillow because it's not supposed to still hurt like this.
You do a little better when you re-sit your exams and that seems to make your dad proud. That you're coming to terms with things, starting to get your life back on track. Duncan gets straight As his second time around and Logan doesn't bother taking them again. His house is being packed up and he's trading a house by the ocean (which he loves: the ocean, not the house) for a house in the hills. You don't think it will last long – but you don't tell him that. You'll be surprised if he can stay civil to his family long enough to turn eighteen.
Duncan glances at you from time to time – those heavy glances that tell you he's more involved in your relationship (friendship) than you are. More involved perhaps than he should be considering he has a girlfriend.
You can tell that it's him from the name flashing on your cell phone, but he doesn't speak. He never speaks and you feel uneasy listening to him breathe. The one time he does break the silence he tells you that you should stop answering his calls.
"Maybe you should just stop calling."
"Yeah—"
You hear him swallow something and hope futilely that it's not liquor. He only calls you when he's really drunk – you can tell by laboured breathing – and you wonder what that says about his feelings for you. He can't even face you down the phone sober.
"—maybe I should."
But he doesn't and you keep answering your phone because Duncan's distant again and you think you're falling in love with a boy that hates you. And that makes you hate yourself a little too.
Your counsellor tells you all about transference and the side effects of near-death. Emotions manifesting into things they really aren't. She says you aren't in love with him. It doesn't make you feel any better when Logan calls you at night.
When your dad finally gets the all clear from his physical therapist you both go out for Italian food to celebrate. It's just the two of you and lots of lasagne and you think that for the first time in a long while you're actually happy. It's a fleeting little moment locked in a small bistro but you don't mind, because when you get home there will be washing up and homework that need to be sorted through. Right now you are wearing white and your hair is a little bit longer than usual and the only thing missing is your mother. But that's okay too because you don't want everything about your old life back.
Logan's inheritance comes through – along with access to several large bank accounts held in his name. It seems poor Aaron never had time to change the details on his tax scams before he was shipped off to death row. Logan is fucking gleeful about catching his father out and you get a phone call asking if you want to help plan his grand return.
According to Logan: being eighteen is fun. He's done three interviews trashing his dad before the first week is out.
You're not sure what to think about that, but Duncan's trust fund doesn't kick in until he's twenty-one and you don't have one at all so Logan's sudden wealth is quite giddying. Enough so that he seems to be glossing over any tension between you – and whatever, you think maybe you should join Duncan in blissful ignorance for a while.
You end up losing your faux-virginity to Logan and somehow it manages to complicate everything even more. You shouldn't be surprised really; it's just one in a long line of stupid things you've done since you nearly died. And that would be a great excuse if you hadn't overused it to the point where you blamed your near-death experience for the coffee stain on the couch. Shaking hands – shot nerves – and an overfilled mug.
So, he doesn't call you the next day and you think he probably hates himself. You were both more than a little drunk. But really that's what you get for choosing to get drunk with Logan Echolls. Seduced.
When he does call you, you can feel that lump in your throat reappearing and you really wish that you didn't care at all. But he knew – all about what happened to you – and he ditched you anyway.
And sure, you think he must have some sexual hang-ups too after watching his father fuck his girlfriend (PG-13 style) on every major news and entertainment channel around the world. One clip of Lilly throwing her head back in ecstasy was used, over and over and over. It was the tagline for the entire trial. Drew in the voyeur crowd from their television sets and tried to make them care about the issues as they ogled pale flesh.
But awful things happened to you too and somewhere in between snapping the seal on a bottle of over-priced tequila and him taking off your pants you thought he would understand that..
"I, uh…"
"It's okay," you shrug into the phone, "no strings."
He swallows. "Okay."
He knows you don't mean it, it's not okay that he left you.
"Veronica—"
"Yeah?" you can't help being optimistic.
There is a long pause and a defeated sigh. "I'm sorry."
And that last little piece of hope dies. You decide you're never taking your pants off again.
You thought not remembering sex was the worst possible thing but now – remembering and being denied – you think it's time to reconsider. You spent most of that night in his bed – drunk and laughing so hard that your ribs shook, warm and surreal because the doors were closed and there was nobody there to point you towards reality and all the shit between you.
Now, school is awful. You don't look at him and Wallace – unaware of the situation – points out that if you were a tiny bit smaller you could just hide from him in your locker rather than sprinting to the bathrooms whenever he rounds the corner.
You try and smile but he catches on.
"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong? Or do I have to wait another six months?"
You smile again, mouth firmly closed, and you think that Wallace will have to wait a lot longer than six months before you admit that the first person you willingly had sex with was Logan Echolls. And that he ditched you after. You're really not up for any sympathetic 'I told you so's.
But congratulations – now you've slept with Duncan and Logan, to complete the set you've only got to get with Dick and Casey. You don't think that's a collection you'll ever be willingly finishing. But hey, who thought you'd ever cry because Logan didn't call you, right?
Tickets for Prom eventually go on sale and you think that someone somewhere is laughing at you. Wallace has a real date so you can't fake out the evening with him – and well, the other two boys you'd considered going with at various points in your life both used you for sex and left you later.
How romantic. You're not exactly swooning.
"What did he do to you?"
"Nothing," you lie.
Wallace looks at you, plainly unimpressed.
"Nothing you'd want to know about," you amend, trying to keep any bitterness from your words.
"That's not true. I thought we were past games, Veronica. If he hurt you, I want to know – isn't that one of the best friend roles?"
"It really doesn't matter anymore," you protest.
"It does to you. What happened?"
You hesitate with your throat tight. "Sex," you shrug and walk away, lips pressed firmly together. You don't cry during school time.
Twizzlers are interesting – on one hand they're cheap and taste kind of disgusting, like strawberry wax rather than real candy, on the other hand you seem to crave them all the time. It's almost masochistic.
You indulge yourself in the awful, tasteless candy more now than you ever would have before. Taking out your dad's car you buy a handful and eat them on the beach, your shoes sprawled beside you.
Every now and then you'll see somebody you know, but they won't make the first move and talk to you. And you don't really want to make small talk at all – so that works out best for all parties.
The first time you ate Twizzlers alone on the beach was after the first paparazzi picture of you was taken. Now it's just habit, but it's kind of nice to have that sense of stability in your life right now.
Your dad finds a new apartment for you both. It's still not a house, but you don't know if you could ever get used to that much space again. It's nice having him here – knowing that you're never too alone. There's hot water all day long, a slightly bigger kitchen, satellite in the TV set and two bedrooms. Yours is only a little bigger than your last one.
Some masochistic part of you switches to an entertainment channel and you're standing next to Logan on the screen – talk about bad timing. The piece is almost finished; you're apparently dating the son of the man who tried to murder you. The boy who showed you a repeat of hit-and-run sex – because you obviously didn't enjoy it enough the first time.
When Duncan calls and asks to meet you, you don't hesitate. At least Jake Kane's security is keeping picture-hounds away from him.
School is still more awkward than real life. Too many interconnecting relationships with people who all have their own dramas wrapped up in each other.
"You should talk to Logan."
"Why?"
"Because he's your best friend?" you can hear the frustration in your own voice.
"Not anymore."
You watch him push around a piece of chicken with his fork. Suddenly your own noodles seem wholly unappetising.
"I'm not choosing," you add defiantly. You mean platonically but you're not always the best communicator.
"You already did."
Duncan pushes his lunch tray towards you, leaving before you can stop him. He's getting almost as good at running as Logan. You're getting a little tired of chasing.
It was funny how you saw the line crack down between the three of you – Duncan on the one side, Logan and yourself on the other. Duncan turned the whole horrible experience into something positive whereas the two of you seemed to accomplish nothing but more hurt.
Duncan worked hard at school, did even more extra-curricular activities – tried to show the world that the Kanes were not broken. Lately so many things were happening that it was getting more difficult for you to pretend the same.
You don't go to Prom. Honestly you can't say that you aren't disappointed – of course you are – it's every little girl's dream to get dressed up and spend the night in a fairytale romance of ball gowns and tuxes.
You spend your Prom on the couch with both Ben and Jerry – it may well be a Rocky Road but still more fun than going to Prom stag and playing third wheel to the Wallace Fennel fan club. There are no formal dresses and new shoes for you, just pyjama pants, a tank top and a very worn chenille blanket curled across your shoulders.
It's almost midnight when there's a knock on your door. You pad across the room softly, trying not to wake Back Up. Your dad's not home yet.
"So, I heard you skipped Prom," he greets.
"I had nothing to wear," you reply glibly.
"I like your shawl though," he points at the grubby blanket with a wry grin.
You can't help smiling. "You're so full of—" you tail off, shaking your head lightly.
He leans more comfortably against the pillar on your porch, seemingly reassured now that you haven't slammed the door in his face. The way he's been acting recently you probably should.
On either side of the threshold you stand, staring each other down until you smile again – more hesitantly this time.
"You want to come in?"
He ducks his head in a hidden smile – nodding.
"Yeah, maybe."
You should be angry – about a lot of things – but somewhere inside, Lilly's legacy is still thriving and you think, what's the point? One day you'll all be dead too, and you'll have plenty of time to miss each other then.
Logan kisses you, and it could be another mistake.
But, maybe not.
