A/N Special thanks to disdainfullady, who gave me some excellent beta advice on the first part of the chapter (which I've tried my best to follow), and also to lilamadison11 and katiepotatie, who both read the beginning of the chapter and offered up excellent feedback.
No one looked at the second half of the chapter, so I take full blame.
Chapter 11: Five Days, Part II
Logan
They're both quiet for a time, on the ride back to Neptune. Logan fiddles with the radio, trying to find a decent station, while Veronica looks out the window. He glances over at her a couple of times, wondering what's going on in that busy mind of hers.
Veronica's face is turned away from him but her posture is relaxed, hands in her lap and head resting against the seat. He leans forward slightly, to get a better look at her. From his new vantage point, he can just barely glimpse the smile on her lips.
Logan smiles to himself, settling back in his seat and focusing on the road. It's good to see her peaceful and happy, after the strain of the last couple of weeks. Today has been a perfect day; one of the best he's ever had.
Well, almost perfect. Logan's smile fades, his mood marred somewhat by the memory of Veronica's questions, earlier. Lilly had obviously been on her mind. Which is odd, because she hasn't been on mine all afternoon.
He considers the implications of this, while he drives. For better or worse, Lilly has played a large part in his past. The question is, will she play a part in my future? A couple of weeks ago he would have answered yes, without hesitation. Now… he's not so sure.
Logan looks over at Veronica, wondering if he should broach the subject again. He feels like he owes her an explanation, and it'll be easier to discuss this topic with a little more physical distance between them. Now that she's not straddling my hips and nibbling on my earlobe.
As loathe as he is to disturb their calm, he takes a deep breath and begins. "You asked me, uh, about Lilly. Before. About why we get back together."
Veronica turns towards him, her gaze instantly apprehensive. "Yeah?"
Logan thinks for a minute, measuring his words. "Part of it really is habit. It's become, like, routine. You know?" He glances over at her, and she nods.
"Yeah," she says softly. "I know."
"Like the first couple of times, I took it seriously. I thought we were over for good. But after the fourth time, the fifth…" He shrugs. "It kind of got to the point where every time we argued, she'd threaten to break up. And I'd be like, okay. Whatever. I knew it wasn't permanent."
"So…what are you saying?"
Logan's eyes remain on the road, but he can feel her stare. "I don't know," he replies honestly. "This time feels pretty permanent, to me."
He glances over at her, trying to meet her eyes, but Veronica's gaze drops to her lap. When she finally looks back up at him, her expression is guarded. "But you said…"
"No," he corrects quietly. "I didn't."
"Because you wouldn't let me ask," she points out.
"Do you still want to ask?"
Veronica hesitates. "Kind of."
Logan sighs. "You have a really hard time letting things lie," he remarks. "Has anyone ever told you that?"
"My dad. Constantly."
"I bet," he laughs.
The winding mountain road comes to an end, and he makes a left onto the busier main road. Traffic is still light, this early in the afternoon, and he quickly transfers his attention back to Veronica. She's staring straight ahead, twirling a strand of hair around and around her index finger.
"Go ahead," he says resignedly. "Ask."
"No," she replies stubbornly. "You were right, before. Today is about today. We can talk about this later."
"Good. Because there's something else I'd rather discuss."
"Oh yeah? What's that?"
"Literally anything else," he suggests wryly. "Baboons. The Greek economy. American fucking Idol."
"Hey, you were the one who brought it up," she reminds him, exasperated. "I was just sitting here, calmly enjoying the landscape."
Logan glances at her. He can tell she's not as annoyed with him as she sounds, but she's got a point. "You're right. Sorry."
Veronica lifts one shoulder in a shrug. "It's okay." She glances at the clock on the dashboard. "If we were in school, we'd be sitting in Photography class right now."
"More likely fooling around in the darkroom," he amends, flashing a grin in her direction.
"You wish," Veronica returns, laughing lightly.
"Always," he confirms. Logan is secretly pleased at her response. Just last week, she would have blushed and looked away. But Veronica's gaze meets his directly, now, pale blue and unashamed of the tenuous new bond that lay between them.
Logan forces his eyes back towards the road. He's finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on driving; her nearness is distracting. "So do you need to go right home?"
"I should. I seriously need to study for that Algebra test."
"What a coincidence," he says. "Me too. Let's study together."
"Yeah, I know how you like to study," she remarks dryly.
He grins. "Okay. So let's not study," he proposes. "Let's hang out at my house instead."
When Veronica doesn't respond right away, Logan glances in her direction. She's twirling her hair around her finger again; he can tell she's considering it. Worried her practicality will win out, Logan makes a snap decision and pulls over onto the shoulder of the road.
"What are you doing?"
Logan puts the car in park and turns towards her. He picks up the loose strand of hair she's just been toying with, tucking it behind her ear. "We only have two and a half days left," he reminds her. "Let's not waste them."
Veronica's eyebrows draw together at his words, a tight smile on her lips. "Believe me, I don't want to go home," she assures him. "But I've really been slacking these last couple of weeks, and-"
Logan unsnaps his seatbelt and leans forward in one movement, his kiss quieting her instantly. He cups her face between his hands to keep her still and focused on him, while they kiss. When he's sure she's not going to pull away, he finds and depresses the button of her seatbelt.
"I'm not ready for this day to end yet," he says, his thumbs stroking her cheeks softly. "Are you?"
Veronica shakes her head no, pulling his mouth down to hers and kissing him again and again. His hands drop to her waist, drawing her nearer until she's almost in his lap. She manages to navigate the rest of the way there, squeezing in between him and the steering wheel, and he moves his seat back to give her more room.
"You're very…flexible," he commends, in between kisses.
She settles more comfortably on his lap, a process that makes his heart race significantly faster, and smiles rather coyly. "Well, you know," she replies. "I was on dance team."
"Mmmm." He closes his eyes, as her lips travel down his neck. "You've spent your time very wisely."
Their breathing becomes strenuous, as Veronica drags her nails up Logan's scalp and his fingers twine in her hair. The temperature in the X-Terra seems to have risen at least ten degrees. Logan's about to suggest that they remove a little clothing and hop in the back seat when he remembers where they are and who, exactly, he's with.
He thinks about having sex with Veronica at least two or three dozen times a day; and today, utterly alone and tangled up with one another for hours, that number has climbed into the hundreds.
As his hands slide up Veronica's back and her thighs grip his own, his imagination is growing more vivid by the second. But he's well aware of the fact that things can't go that far, between them. No matter how much his body disagrees.
And even if we were a real couple, I'll be damned if her first time is going to be in the backseat of my car, on the shoulder of a busy road… in the middle of the day… where anyone could see us… He shakes his head. This isn't helping.
"What's wrong?" she asks. "Why'd you stop?"
"Because I have to," he says simply.
Logan places his hands beneath both of her thighs and lifts her gently, turning his body to try and help guide her back to her own seat. Veronica takes his meaning, easing the rest of the way off of his lap until she's settled into the passenger seat.
He exhales, trying to regain some modicum of self-control. Yet when he glances over at her, he shakes his head in defeat. "For someone who claims to have no experience, you always seem to know exactly what to do."
Veronica gives him a rather smug smile. "I've always been a fast learner."
Logan merely rolls his eyes; but internally he's fighting the urge to take her into his arms again, to test the voracity of that statement. He moves his seat forward and clicks his seatbelt back into place, but doesn't put the car in drive. Instead he looks over at Veronica, considering his earlier proposal.
He knows he should tell her to forget about it. That he should drop her off at her house, so she can be the responsible person she is and go study. But the temptation to remain in her company is too great. It may be selfish; but right now, he doesn't care.
"So what do you say?" he asks. "No one will be home. We can get some Mexican food, watch a movie. Maybe take a dip in the pool…"
Veronica studies him for several seconds, before nodding slowly. "Okay," she agrees. "I'm in.
xxXxx
The movie is on in the background, long forgotten, and the popcorn bowl lies overturned upon the plush beige carpeting. Logan and Veronica have gone from sitting, to leaning, to lying down; bodies stretched out fully on the wide couch, lips and hips pressed together. And Logan is currently having a very difficult time keeping things PG-13.
Veronica's soft, slightly hesitant touches from their first encounters had been maddening. But her growing confidence is glorious torment. Inexplicably, she's decided to trust him with her body; a gift both humbling and thrilling to receive. He's very conscious of the honor she's bestowed on him, and endeavors to treat her with the utmost care and respect.
But she's so willing and responsive to his touch that he has to keep reminding himself that this is all new to her. It's exhilarating to think that he's the first person who has ever touched her here or kissed her there. It's a job Logan has never held before, and he feels a responsibility to do it right.
And there's something about watching her control unravel, knowing that he's the one who's causing her back to arch or getting her to utter those incredibly sexy little noises, that makes him want her more than he's ever wanted anything before.
Or maybe it's because you know you can't have her, he reminds himself. Not completely. Because she isn't yours.
That thought is enough to rouse him back to reality. He gives her one final kiss before pulling away, easing himself into a sitting position on the couch. Veronica stays where she is, eyeing him with a slightly dazed expression. After half a moment she blinks and looks towards the television. The end credits are rolling.
"I think we missed the movie," she remarks.
"Worth it," he returns, stroking her hair back from her face.
She closes her eyes and smiles at his touch, and his fingers still. Logan's not sure what it is about this particular moment. It's so innocuous. Just the two of them on the couch, the scent of buttered popcorn lingering in the air and an orchestral score blaring from the television behind them. But it's just hit him, suddenly and terrifyingly, how important this girl is to him.
"What?" Veronica asks. Her eyes are open, now, focused on him in concern.
Logan hesitates, wondering if he should tell her. He wants to, badly. He wants to draw her close and whisper it into her warm, honeyed hair like a prayer. I love you.
He blinks and shakes his head, forcing a smile. "Nothing," he replies, bending down to kiss her forehead.
Disquieted by his revelation, Logan stands up and walks over to the TV, hitting the power button. Silence fills the room like an unwelcome truth. Logan runs a restless hand through his hair, looking down at Veronica apprehensively. You can't love her, he admonishes. You can't.
She's bending down, now, picking up popcorn kernels off of the floor. He watches her distractedly for a moment, before it hits him what she's doing. "Stop," he objects, striding towards her. "You don't have to do that. We have a maid."
"It's no big deal." Veronica ignores him, continuing with her task.
She's done before he can even bend down to help her. Logan takes the bowl from her and sets it on the coffee table, then grasps her hand. It's slippery from residual butter, but he manages to pull her into a standing position anyway. Logan keeps tight hold of Veronica's hand, craving some kind of tangible link.
"Hey, what's up with you?" she asks, head slightly tilted as she studies him.
Logan threads his fingers through hers, looking down at their woven flesh. The connection he feels with her is real, of that he's certain. Unintentional, unexpected, and impossible, yes. But real. The question is, do I tell her?
Feeling overwhelmed by his discovery and burdened by the weight of the choice before him, Logan releases Veronica's hand abruptly. He feels restless, like he needs to move. Ignoring her question, he poses one of his own. "You feel like going for a swim?"
"I don't have a suit," she points out.
Logan is positive Lilly's left one or two bikinis lying around, but he doesn't dare suggest it. "I'll loan you a t-shirt and a pair of boxers," he offers. Lifting one brow, he adds, "Or we can go skinny dipping, if you'd prefer."
"Um, no," she vetoes, rolling her eyes at him. "But the pool does sound nice. Let me just call home, real quick."
"Sure," Logan agrees quickly. "Come upstairs when you're done."
xxXxx
Logan tosses Veronica a t-shirt as she walks into his room. She catches it easily, looking down at it in disdain. "White, Logan? Really?"
"What?" he asks innocently.
"Sorry to disappoint you," she returns, throwing it back to him. "But we're not on Spring Break in Cancun."
"Shame," he grins. He replaces the white shirt back in his dresser drawer and emerges with a black V-neck instead. "Better?" he asks, holding it up for her approval.
"Much," she confirms.
Logan crosses his room to hand her the shirt and a pair of shorts. He drops a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, before continuing towards the door. He gestures vaguely towards the middle of the room. "You can get dressed in here. Meet me down at the pool when you're ready."
When he steps outside, he makes a quick detour into the pool house. He's decided he needs a drink; something to dull the senses a bit, to help him behave himself. Logan settles on rum and Coke. Something discreet, in case his mom comes home unexpectedly. No reason to tempt her to try and be a real parent, in front of Veronica.
Logan has just added a healthy dose of Captain Morgan to the drink when he hears footsteps behind him. He turns to see Veronica, walking through the open pool house door hesitantly. She's looking particularly adorable in his clothing, his shirt so large on her that it comes almost to her knees. Thinking better of it, Logan adds another splash of rum to his drink.
Veronica walks over to him, watching him stir the drink with a straw. "How about you make me one of those?" she suggests.
He removes the straw from his drink, putting it up to his lips to suck the excess liquid off of it and eyeing her with amusement. "Right."
"I'm serious," she insists, her lower lip protruding willfully. "Make me a drink."
"You don't drink."
"I don't usually drink," she corrects. "Because I'm sweet, boring Princess Veronica. Remember?"
Logan continues to look at her, making no move to oblige her request. She's already told him the real reason she doesn't drink, and it doesn't stem from some blind desire to follow the rules. But I doubt she wants to talk about that, right now. "There's nothing boring about you," he tells her truthfully.
Veronica sighs and pushes him out of the way, reaching for an empty glass herself. Logan takes it swiftly from her hands, setting the glass down on the bar top and filling it with ice. "And I'm starting to question the sweet part, too," he adds with a pointed look.
"You know what I mean," she says. "I'm sick of being so predictable."
Logan lets out a short laugh. "You," he apprises, "are one of the least predictable people I've ever met. And you certainly don't need to prove that any more than you already have by having a drink." He fills the glass nearly to the top with Coke and reaches for the bottle of Captain, but glances over at her before he adds it.
"I'm not trying to prove anything," she disputes. "Let's not make this some big thing. I just want to have a drink with you."
"Fair enough." Logan pours as little rum as he can get away with into her drink, pokes a straw into it and hands it to her.
Veronica accepts it with a smile, tapping her glass against his own. "Cheers."
xxXxx
Logan takes one look at Veronica, his black t-shirt clinging to her body and her skin glistening with sunlit water droplets, and he admits defeat. They give up all pretenses of swimming within the first ten minutes, receding into the far corner of the pool with their limbs intertwined and their lips locked.
He surrenders himself to her gladly, prepared to do whatever she wants him to do- to be whatever she needs him to be. Her hands are clasped behind his neck, knees hooked around his hips and lips joined to his. All five of his senses are consumed by her.
Her skin is like porcelain in the sunlight, but she's no doll who lies limp in his arms. Her body is in constant motion, bending and stretching, attacking and retreating. She nibbles, then bites; scratches, then suckles; like a baby lion learning how to play. It's endearing but infuriating, and Logan crushes his lips to hers in an attempt to alleviate the agony.
Finally Veronica withdraws, swimming towards the edge of the pool to retrieve her drink, and Logan has a moment to recover. He reaches up for his own drink, taking several large gulps gratefully.
She's swimming back towards him, glass still in hand, before he's quite prepared. Logan holds one arm out to halt her progress. "Easy, tiger," he teases, holding up his glass. "I need to hydrate."
"Well that's not going to help," she points out.
"Feels like it's helping to me." Logan tips his head back and finishes the rest of the drink, setting the empty glass back on the pool's edge.
After a beat Veronica does the same, shooting him a satisfied smile when she's done. As she swims past Logan to place her glass next to his, he catches her around the waist and tugs her back to his side. Her glass slips from her hands and plummets down to the pool's bottom, but neither one of them pays it any mind.
Logan kisses her once, firmly, before pulling back to look at her. Veronica's eyes are slightly glassy. Weak as the drink he'd made her was, she's tiny and not used to alcohol. "How do you feel?" he checks.
"Good," she says, drawing the word out slowly. She lifts her face up to his, kissing him languidly, the taste of Coca-Cola still sweet on her lips.
Logan's arms tighten around her, pressing her close. But he maintains the lazy rhythm of the kiss, allowing her to set the pace as always. This time, Veronica is the one to break it off, momentarily separating their bodies and treading water before him. She regards him thoughtfully, for a moment.
"Why did you kiss me?" she asks suddenly. "The night of Casey's party."
Logan stares at her, confused. "Didn't we cover this, already?"
"Not really. All you said was that you wanted to."
"Well, there you have it," he says, raising one shoulder in a half-shrug.
"C'mon," Veronica protests. "That's not a real answer."
"Sure it is," he disagrees. "What could be more simple? I wanted to kiss you, so I did."
"That would mean you came looking for me," she reasons. "For the specific purpose of kissing me."
"Yes, Miss Marple," Logan confirms, holding both hands up in surrender. "It was premeditated. And now you've caught me."
"Did you know I'd never kissed anyone?" she asks, ignoring his jest. "Before I told you?"
"I figured as much," he admits.
"So you wanted to be my first kiss," she deduces.
Logan sighs, regarding her with affectionate impatience. "Did I think you might prefer kissing me to being forced to kiss Dick or Kenny, just because some empty bottle spun in your direction at a party?" he asks rhetorically. "Yes. Was I wrong?"
"No," she concedes. "You weren't wrong."
"Good. So can we move past this, now?" he entreats, coming closer to her. "Because I'm pretty sure we have much better things to do with our time."
"Hang on a minute," Veronica says, backing away slightly. "I'm not done yet."
Logan rolls his eyes. "Didn't we do the Spanish Inquisition thing once already, today?"
"Just one more question," she promises.
"Fine," he sighs. "Go ahead."
"Did you ever think about kissing me, before that night?"
Logan looks up at the sky, smiling wryly at the clouds above. If he answers yes, he admits to thinking about her while he was with Lilly. If he answers no, he's a liar. He glances down at her, trying to figure out how to respond. Brutal honesty, he decides. Why not?
He finds her hand beneath the water, pulling her towards him rapidly and wrapping both arms around her waist. Logan bends his head down, lips close to her ear. "I thought about doing a lot more than kissing you," he whispers.
Logan turns his face towards her, wanting to see her reaction to his confession. But Veronica evades discovery, pressing her forehead into the curve of his shoulder so her face is hidden from view. Yet she doesn't attempt to withdraw from his embrace. Her hands stay anchored to his hips, while her legs continue to loosely encircle his thighs.
They remain in this position for several moments, floating tranquilly in each other's arms. Logan strokes her wet hair away from her face with his left hand, his right hand clasped securely beneath the back of her thigh. He can feel her breath against his damp chest, warming his skin as she exhales.
Then Veronica moves, tilting her head up to place a light kiss on the nape of his neck. Her lips move against his skin like a paintbrush, strokes of various length and pressure, composing her design with care. The fingers of her left hand make a leisurely ascent from his hip to the base of his skull, sending unbearably light tremors beneath his skin.
Her curled fingers incline his neck to one side, giving her better access to her canvas. Her kisses grow longer, the pressure intensifying, and the water around them erupts into choppy waves. Her nails dig into his skin and her legs constrict around his waist, and Logan attempts to pull her mouth towards his.
But Veronica's lips stay fastened to the curved base of his neck, now biting and sucking at the skin with some force. The sensation is a millimeter away from pain, that fraternal twin of pleasure, and it's driving Logan to distraction. It isn't until he begins to feel a lingering ache where her lips meet his skin that he comes back to his senses.
"Hey, easy," he warns lightly. "You're going to…" Logan stops talking. He can tell it's too late, and he's past the point of caring anyway.
But Veronica detaches herself instantly, eyes widening as she touches the tender patch of skin she's just abandoned.
Logan gives her a wry smile. "…leave a mark," he finishes.
She puts her hand to her lips. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to do that."
"It's okay," he assures her. "Don't worry about it."
"But what if someone sees?"
"No one will see it," he insists, stroking her arm soothingly. "A few days of collared shirts and it'll be gone. I promise."
Veronica nods, exhaling heavily. "Okay."
Logan presses his lips to her brow in a quick kiss, then retreats to the edge of the pool for his empty glass. The bruise on his neck is nothing compared to the ache he's feeling elsewhere, and he needs a minute to recover. Especially if she keeps doing stuff like that.
He hoists himself out of the pool, turning back towards her before he departs. "I," he announces, placing his palm to his chest, "need another drink. Do you want anything?"
Veronica gives him a rather sly smile in response, and Logan shakes his head at her slowly. "You're killing me, Mars," he informs her, walking backwards slowly. "Absolutely killing me." She laughs and Logan turns around, heading towards the pool house.
xxXxx
He exits the pool house a few minutes later with two full drinks in hand, and stops dead in his tracks. Duncan is standing at the pool's edge, his body bent forward slightly as he converses with Veronica.
Logan remains frozen in place, trying to convince himself that his best friend is merely an apparition. But he isn't. He's really here. And how the hell am I supposed to deal with this?
He can't seem to move. All he can do is watch, as Veronica swims over to where Duncan is standing. She accepts the hand he offers, allowing him to help lift her out of the pool. Duncan says something to her that Logan can't hear, and Veronica laughs. She looks remarkably composed, considering the situation, and he can't help admiring her poise.
Duncan seems to be admiring something else of hers, however, his eyes lingering on Veronica's body as she attempts to squeeze the excess water from her clothing. Logan's fingers tighten involuntarily around the glasses he's holding, fighting the urge to smack the appreciative look off of his friend's face.
Logan's heart is thumping, a myriad of emotions cycling rapidly within as he stares at Duncan. Jealousy and anger melt into confusion, followed by relief. What would have happened, if Duncan had arrived five minutes earlier?
This leads to the naked realization that part of him wishes his friend had seen them together, in the pool. Then all of this would be out in the open, for better or worse. He imagines what it would be like, if he were to walk up to Veronica and kiss her on the lips right now. What would Duncan do? Would he shrug it off? Would he shove me into the pool? Logan has half a mind to find out.
But when Logan looks at Veronica, still dripping with water in his oversized clothes, he changes his mind. This affects her too. He can't make the decision to come clean without her consent.
It's concern for her, stuck braving this situation alone, that finally gets Logan's limbs moving again. Thinking quickly, he sets Veronica's drink behind a nearby potted plant. Then he takes a deep breath and steps forward, plastering a smile onto his face.
"Dude," he greets Duncan cheerfully, clapping him on the back. "Where the hell did you come from? Aren't you supposed to be in Tahoe?"
"We left early," Duncan explains, easing himself onto one of the lounge chairs. "Lilly just dropped me off."
Logan and Veronica exchange a quick glance, and he takes the seat beside Duncan. "Everything okay?" he asks.
"Dad said he had some kind of emergency to deal with at work," Duncan replies. "But I think he just couldn't stand listening to Grandma complain anymore. I know we couldn't." His eyes travel from Logan to Veronica. "So what are you guys up to?"
Logan takes a sip of his drink, using the delay to observe Duncan more carefully. His friend seems curious, but not suspicious.
"We're supposed to be studying," Veronica speaks up. She nods at Logan. "But this one has the attention span of a gnat."
Logan rolls his eyes, playing along. "And that one is about as much fun as a drill sergeant," he returns. "We were studying for, like, hours. I got bored. So…" Logan held up his drink in explanation. "It was time for a refreshment."
Duncan shakes his head, but he's smiling. "You're a bad influence, man," he jokes. "Next thing you know, she'll be having one of those with you."
"Yeah, right," Logan remarks, not without irony. But Duncan has clearly accepted their story at face value, and he begins to relax slightly.
Yet when he glances over at Veronica, she's eyeing him in alarm. She bends down, picking up a folded towel off the empty seat beside her and tossing it at Logan with a pointed look at his neck.
Understanding, Logan shakes the towel out and casually drapes it around his shoulders, covering up the mark she's left.
"So are you guys still working?" Duncan asks. "Or is it cool if I hang out for a bit?"
"I think we're done for the day, right?" Veronica replies, glancing at Logan for confirmation. "We, um, covered a lot. Before."
Logan casts a wistful look in her direction. This isn't how he'd pictured this day ending up, and he has to struggle to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Yeah," he affirms, turning his head towards Duncan. "Stay. We can order a pizza or something."
But Duncan isn't looking at him; his focus is still on Veronica. He clears his throat, rubbing his palms together slowly. "Uh, Veronica, there's actually something I wanted to-" Duncan pauses, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. "Can I talk to you, for a sec?"
Logan stares at Duncan, a horrible feeling of foreboding in his gut. Veronica is staring at Duncan, too, but her expression is utterly unreadable. There's a rattling sound, suddenly, like a power tool starting up, and they all look over at the table. Veronica's phone is vibrating noisily against its metal top.
She glances at the screen and her hand closes around the phone, silencing the noise. "It's Lilly," she announces. Veronica places the phone to her ear, shooting an uneasy look at Logan before walking away to take her call.
Logan exhales and reaches for his drink, draining it in three large gulps. He stands up, needing to move. Another drink, he decides. Then maybe a swim. Something. Anything. He tosses the towel onto his empty chair and turns to Duncan with both hands on his hips. "Hey, man, you want a drink?"
Duncan narrows his eyes at him, then laughs. "Dude, is that a hickey?"
Logan's hand goes to his neck. Fuck. "Oh, yeah. I forgot about that." He forces a smile. "That chick I told you about, the one from the diner? Turns out she's a bit of a wild one."
Duncan leans his head back against his chair, looking up at Logan enviously. "You live a charmed, charmed life, my friend."
"Yeah," Logan says flatly. "Charmed."
Veronica is walking back towards them, now, phone in hand. She stops about five feet away, looking from Logan to Duncan, then back. "Lilly's coming by to pick me up," she informs them both. "So I better go get changed and grab my stuff." She picks up her towel, draping it over the crook of her arm. "I'll, um, see you guys tomorrow, okay?"
Logan's eyes meet hers, not bothering to mask his frustration. He racks his brain for an excuse to walk up to the house with her, but comes up empty. "Yeah," he finally says. "See you in the morning."
Their gazes linger on one another for a beat too long. Veronica blinks and turns away, waving goodbye to Duncan and heading into the house.
xxXxx
Duncan declines Logan's offer for a drink, but agrees to stay for pizza. When it arrives they eat on the couch in the pool house, pausing their video game and making do without plates.
Logan is ravenous, quickly finishing off two slices and reaching for a third. He hasn't eaten anything except a sandwich and some popcorn, today, having been far more consumed by Veronica than something as insignificant as nutrition. He smiles unconsciously as he thinks of her, recalling bits and pieces of their day together.
"So I've been thinking about what you said the other day, at my house," Duncan speaks up, interrupting his contemplations. "And you're right. Who gives a crap what my mom thinks about Veronica?"
Logan's smile vanishes, as he looks over at his friend. "I, uh, don't remember saying that."
"Well, no, not exactly," Duncan corrects himself. "But I could tell you thought I was being a big baby about it. And you're right. I'm always so worried about making them happy. What about doing what makes me happy?"
Logan looks down at his half-eaten slice, appetite gone. He tosses it back into the open box, wiping his hands slowly on his shorts. "And Veronica makes you happy," he says flatly.
Duncan shrugs, looking a bit self-conscious; but he's smiling. "Yeah," he confirms. "She does. I just… I like being around her. She makes me smile, you know?"
"Yeah. I know." Logan slouches against the couch cushions, scratching at the back of his neck absently.
"Is that how it was for you?" Duncan asks.
Logan's head pivots in his direction quickly. "What do you mean?"
"With Lilly," Duncan clarifies. "You know, before."
"Oh. You mean before she dumped my ass and started screwing another guy?" Logan responds sardonically. Catching Duncan's expression, he shoots him an apologetic look. Whatever else she may be, Lilly's still his sister. "Sorry."
Logan stands up, walking over to the mini fridge and grabbing a beer. He places the tip of the cap against the countertop, slamming his fist down to pop it off. The cap scutters across the floor, disappearing beneath a chair. Logan takes several long sips of his beer, trying to work up the nerve to ask Duncan the question on his mind.
"So, you gonna ask her out?" he finally says, as casually as he can manage.
"Yeah, I think so," Duncan confirms. "I, uh, figured I'd ask her to the dance."
"Sure, man, why not?" Logan laughs shortly. "There's nothing stopping you, right?"
"Just my crushing fear of rejection," Duncan jokes. "I mean, Lilly swears up and down that she's into me, but… it's hard to tell with her, sometimes."
Logan just nods, not trusting himself to speak. It takes him a minute to realize that he's clenching his fist so hard that he's digging his nails into the palm of his hand. He uncurls his fingers, trying to relax, and takes another sip of his beer.
"So what do you think?" Duncan continues. "You guys have been hanging out lately. Does she ever mention me?"
No. She's too busy kissing me to talk about you. Logan shrugs. "I don't know, man. We mostly just talk about boring shit, like school."
Duncan cocks an eyebrow at his friend, seeming to suspect there's more to the story. "But she has mentioned me?" he presses.
"Yeah, I guess," Logan replies. "I mean…" He makes a non-committal gesture with his hand, growing exponentially more uncomfortable.
"Look, I can tell there's something you're not telling me," Duncan says. "And if it's because she asked you not to, I get it. I just want to know what you think, okay? I trust your opinion. Am I crazy to ask her out? Is she, like, completely not interested in me or something?"
He trusts me. Logan looks down, closing his eyes. He trusts me, when all I've done is lie to him and betray him. I knew how he felt about her. I fucking knew, and I went after her anyway. And then I was too much of a coward to tell him about it. So this is it. This is my punishment. Dad always tells me to take it like a man.
Logan lifts his head, meeting Duncan's eyes directly. "No, man, you're not crazy," he says. "Go for it."
xxXxx
It's her choice, anyway, Logan tells himself later, his emotions successfully dulled by alcohol. It's always been her choice. Just because he's going to ask her doesn't mean she'll say yes.
He glances over at Duncan, watching him surreptitiously for a moment. They've been taking turns with the game, and Duncan is currently the one holding the controller. His brows are furrowed in concentration, his vivid blue eyes intent on his task.
Logan's seen enough girls fawn over Duncan to know his best friend is a catch. And it's not just looks, money or status. Duncan's the kind of guy who gets along with everyone. He's nice to the people I make fun of. He's a straight A student and a star athlete. Who the hell am I? Aaron Echolls's kid.
As though he's just been reading Logan's mind, his father suddenly opens the sliding glass door of the pool house. Aaron's hair is wet, towel around his waist, and in his hand are two empty rocks glasses. He casts an infuriated glare in Logan's direction; but when he catches sight of Duncan, sitting on the leather chair, his demeanor changes entirely.
"Hey, kids," he greets them both merrily. "Having a nice time?"
"Hi, Mr. Echolls," Duncan replies, immediately pausing the game.
"Dad." Logan sits up straight. His eyes flicker to the empty beer bottles strewn across the coffee table, but it's too late to try and hide them. "I, uh, thought you were in Vancouver until Sunday?"
"Yes, well," Aaron replies with a humorless smile. "I decided that the movie wasn't the right fit for me, after all. No need to waste everyone's time and money, right?"
Aaron enters the room, taking deliberate strides towards the bar. He sets the two glasses down on the countertop, then makes his way over to the coffee table. He picks up the three empty bottles, with a piercing look at Logan.
Duncan glances over at Logan worriedly, then up at Aaron. "Um, those are mine," he speaks up quickly, nodding to the bottles. "I'm really sorry. Can you please not tell my dad? He'd be so disappointed in me."
Aaron's eyes shift from Logan to Duncan, settling on him thoughtfully. "Well, I don't know, Duncan. I wouldn't want to give your father the impression that we condone this sort of behavior, in this house." His gaze travels back towards his son. "Just imagine what he'd think of us?"
"He knows you'd never allow it," Duncan assures him. "And I promise not to do it again. Logan told me not to drink them. I should have listened."
Logan frowns at his friend. He appreciates the gesture, even though he knows his dad isn't buying it for a second. But if I speak up now, I make Duncan look like a liar.
"Alright," Aaron finally agrees. "It'll be our little secret, this time." He nods towards the clock on the wall. "Isn't it a school night?"
Taking his meaning, Duncan sets the controller down on the coffee table and stands up. "You're right. I didn't even notice the time."
"I'll tell the driver to take you home," Aaron offers. He walks to the doorway, but before he reaches it he turns back around to face his son. "Oh, and Logan?"
"Yeah?"
"Join me in my office, after Duncan leaves."
xxXxx
"So imagine my surprise," Aaron continues, speaking each syllable carefully. "When I found one of the Waterford crystal glasses my good friend Steven Spielberg was kind enough to give me as a wedding present… at the bottom of my pool."
Logan says nothing. Veronica's glass, he realizes. Veronica… His thoughts travel to the far more pleasant memory of the afternoon they'd shared, his father's office fading away. He's just recreated the curve of her upper lip in his mind in minute detail, when Aaron's voice intrudes.
"And then, as I walk into the pool house to put it away, I find yet another glass, hidden behind a plant. How many times do I have to tell you-"
"I had a girl over," Logan interrupts, impatient to end his father's sermon. "I…I was trying to impress her. Those glasses are so nice. I thought it would make me look good."
Aaron pauses momentarily, looking almost pleased, and Logan wonders if his attempt to flatter his ego has succeeded. "I promise, I won't even touch them again," he adds quickly.
"Good."
Logan looks at him, wondering what to do next. Are we done? Is that all? It's been a long time since his dad has settled for a good old-fashioned lecture. Exhausted by the events of the day, he decides to take a chance.
"I'm really sorry, Dad," he says. "I'll think before I act, next time, like you're always telling me to."
"I certainly hope so," Aaron replies.
"I will," Logan assures him. "But I should, um, probably go finish my homework. So… good night." He walks towards the door with measured steps, touching the handle before Aaron speaks up.
"Not so fast."
Logan remains standing next to the door, but turns towards him resignedly. I should have known.
"You think I don't check the mileage on that car of yours?" Aaron asks coldly. "You think I'm stupid?"
"No," Logan denies. "Of course not. But Dad- you've let me take it out before. I thought it would be okay-"
"It's not okay," Aaron cuts him off. "Because I didn't give you permission."
"Nothing happened," Logan points out quietly. "I didn't crash it. I didn't even get a ticket."
"What happened, Logan," his father corrects him darkly, "is that you were disobedient. Again." Aaron lifts a piece off lint off of his silk shirt fastidiously. "So pick a number from one to six."
Logan hesitates. His father could have absolutely anything in mind; he has no idea what the numbers represent. "Three," he chooses, deciding to take the middle ground.
"Go to my closet," Aaron instructs.
Oh. That.
Logan feels almost relieved, as he makes the familiar trip to his dad's closet. Three isn't so bad. I can handle three. More importantly, it won't take long. He chooses the widest belt he can find, because the skinny ones tend to slice the skin, and heads back to his father's office.
He takes his shirt off without being told, handing the belt to his dad silently when he emerges from behind his desk. To Logan's relief, his father clasps it by the metal buckle instead of the tip, this time.
"You're reckless," Aaron informs him calmly, lashing the belt across his back once. The pain is sharp and instantaneous, but Logan doesn't flinch. "You're ungrateful," he adds. "And you're selfish."
The last strike hurts the worst, lain upon already swollen flesh, and Logan inhales sharply. Satisfied, Aaron hands the belt back to Logan. "Please put this away," he instructs. "And son? Don't forget to finish your homework."
xxXxx
Sometimes, when it's really bad, Logan will break down and ask his mom for help. She'll tend to his wounds gently, speaking soothing words before inevitably dissolving into tears. It's almost as excruciating as the injuries themselves.
But the pain barely even registers, tonight. It helps that he's still a little buzzed from earlier, and Logan quickly pops two painkillers to take care of the residual discomfort. He touches the raised pink welts gingerly as he looks at his reflection in the mirror, relieved the skin isn't broken.
His eyes travel to a darker mark on his body, the one just above his collarbone, and his thoughts travel to the girl who left it there. I am reckless, he acknowledges, recalling his father's words. I am ungrateful.
Logan studies his own eyes, in the mirror, pink and bleary from chlorine and drink. "I'm a fucking mess," he announces aloud, flashing a self-deprecating smile at nothing. He sinks down onto the edge of his bed, eyeing the phone on his dresser longingly.
I won't call her, he decides. And I won't text her.
But he wants to, badly. He wants to talk to her about Duncan, ask her how she truly feels about his friend. He wants to show her what his dad did to him tonight, feel her comforting arms around him. He wants to inhale her soft, cotton candy scent and kiss her pale, strawberry smile.
Because I need her, he recognizes. I need her too much. And I've been willing to risk everything- her happiness, her future, her peace of mind- for a couple of days of bliss.
I am selfish.
Logan lies down carefully on his side, staring at the empty side of the bed Veronica had occupied, a few days earlier. She came to me that night because I asked her to. But why should that be her job? How is it fair of me to burden her with all of this? She has her own crap to deal with. Why should she have to deal with mine?
She shouldn't.
And Duncan was right, before. I am a bad influence on her. Not even two weeks since we started hanging out, and here she is: skipping school, sneaking out, drinking. No, he hasn't forced her to do any of these things, but he's played a hand in all of them. Veronica has shown a different side of herself, recently, a side suspiciously similar to Lilly. And I like it.
But Duncan wouldn't want Veronica to change. He wouldn't push her to try and test her limits. That's what I do. That's what I bring out in people. No, he would embrace the person she already is. He would encourage her to play by the rules, be responsible, look to her future. He's the kind of guy her dad would trust implicitly in his daughter's room. Even with the door closed.
Because he's worthy of her. I'm not. And I know what I have to do.
Logan's gaze settles on his phone again. His thoughts are beginning to grow jumbled, hazy, as the painkillers take effect. He sits upright and shakes his head, trying to clear away the grey fog that's beginning to dull his senses. Then he gets up and walks over to his phone, sending a text message to Veronica to meet him before school in the morning.
Phone still in hand, he stretches back out onto his mattress. And within moments, sleep has welcomed him into oblivion.
xxXxx
Logan's back is throbbing, as he awaits Veronica in the darkroom the next morning, but he refuses to take a painkiller. He wants his mind to be clear for this conversation.
He thinks he's prepared. But when she walks through the door he realizes he was fooling himself. Veronica is dressed in a red t-shirt and a black and red plaid skirt that ends at her mid-thigh. Her hair is pulled into pigtails at the base of her neck, and she greets him with a wide smile.
"Hey," she says, walking directly towards him. "Why didn't you call me back, last night? I thought you'd want to tell me-"
Logan interrupts her with a kiss. He lifts her up easily, spinning her around and depositing her on the work bench, his lips never leaving hers. Logan bends her backwards, one arm snaked around her small frame and his free hand gripping her bare thigh tightly.
His behavior is wildly inappropriate, under the circumstances, and completely unplanned. But he can't help himself. The thought of Duncan's hands on Veronica is unbearable, suddenly; the idea that she may soon be greeting him with that smile is agony.
Veronica's fingers run up his back, gently at first and then with more force. The pain is terrible, bringing tears to his eyes, but it kind of feels like justice. She's punishing me, unknowingly, and I deserve it.
Because he's just realized that this kiss is deliberate. It's his desperate attempt to make her forget that Duncan exists, to choose him instead. And Logan doesn't stop kissing her, even after he figures out what he's doing. He can't summon the willpower to let her go.
It isn't until Veronica's hands begin to claw at his tender back that he comes to his senses, wincing involuntarily at both the physical pain and the recognition of his own ruthlessness. Logan breaks off the kiss abruptly and takes several steps backwards, trying to regain his composure.
Veronica hops down from the table lightly and walks towards him, eyeing him with concern. "Hey, what's wrong?"
"My dad came home last night," he explains.
"Oh, Logan." Veronica's hand reaches up to his face, caressing his cheek softly. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. It's not bad."
"Still, you should have told me," she scolds. "Did I hurt you?"
He shakes his head no. Veronica attempts to move closer, but Logan catches her hand, preventing her. She sighs but doesn't push him any further. "Well, for the record, I like the way you say good morning," she says with a sly smile.
I can't do this. I can't fucking do this.
Logan closes his eyes, reminding himself that this is the best thing for her. Just a couple of minutes ago, I was trying to manipulate her into picking me over Duncan. Going behind his back, treating both of them like pawns. All because I need her.
What kind of person does that? What kind of person tries to take away someone's right to choose? Tries to control the people they're supposed to love? My dad. Logan opens his eyes, feeling ice creep into his veins. I'll use that, he decides. I'll be like him: harsh, cold, cruel.
Be harsh.
"Duncan's going to ask you to the dance," he blurts out, dropping her hand. "And I think you should say yes."
Veronica stares at him, a confused half-smile on her lips. "What?"
"It's true," Logan confirms flatly. "He told me last night."
"But Logan," she says slowly. "I don't -" Veronica stops, looking down at the floor momentarily and then back up at him. "I don't understand. Yesterday, we… I mean, I thought everything was good. What happened?"
"What happened is I'm being realistic. One of us has to be."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that this entire situation has gotten completely out of hand," he replies. "Just think about this, for a minute. Really think about it. If you and I were to do this- if we were to be a couple- how would that work? How could it? We can't just hide from everyone, forever. We'd have to come out about it, publicly."
Veronica says nothing, and Logan takes the opportunity to try and drive his point home. "Lilly is your best friend. And we both know how she'd react. You know how pissed off she'd be at you. What if she never forgave you? Do you really want to lose your friend? Do you really want to put yourself through that?"
Logan's been thinking about this part all morning. As much as he hates the thought of losing Duncan's friendship, he's willing to risk it. What he can't risk is the very real possibility of turning Veronica into a pariah. Logan has a built-in social status to rely on- he knows he'll bounce back.
But it's different, for girls. He's seen people shunned from their circle for far, far less. And the only reason Veronica has any status at all is because of her relationship with the Kane's. Take that away, and she's all alone. I can't do that to her. I can't be the reason why everyone starts whispering, when she walks into the room.
"Look," he continues. "We said a week, right? It's been a week."
"We said five days," Veronica corrects him. "And it's only been three." She crosses her arms over her chest. "So you're fine, just walking away? You feel nothing?"
Be cold.
"Look, it's been fun," he tells her, cringing internally at his callous tone. "But let's be honest. It could never have worked between us."
Logan makes the mistake of looking Veronica right in the eyes, and her wounded gaze slices into his skin. He looks away instantly.
"I see," she says softly. "So are you saying we aren't friends anymore, either?"
"No," he replies quickly. "I'm saying…" Logan clears his throat, almost losing his nerve again. "You and Duncan would be good together."
"And you think I should go to the dance with him," she says flatly.
"Well it's not like we can go." Logan forces a laugh. "You should at least go have fun. Enjoy yourself."
Once again, Veronica is silent. But her posture is hunched, now, her expression guarded. It's working.
Be cruel.
"Hey, it's not like you don't like the guy. You've had your panties in a twist for Duncan for years, right? Everyone knows it."
Veronica glares at him, uncrossing her arms from her chest and standing tall. Her eyes travel from his head to his feet and back, very slowly. "What about our deal?" she asks. "Your dad is back home."
"So? I did just fine before you came along, and I'll do fine now," he says coldly. "You'll just have to find a new pet project."
Veronica steps backward, as though physically struck by his words, and Logan hates himself a little bit more.
"It wasn't like that, Logan," she says quietly. "I made you a promise."
He looks her in the eye intently, and this time he doesn't blink. "And I'm telling you that I don't want your help anymore."
Logan picks up his backpack. "I've got to get to homeroom. I'll see you later."
She doesn't respond, and he doesn't look back.
He makes it to the end of the hallway before he starts to crack, stepping into an empty classroom and leaning against the wall. He slides down the wall slowly until he's slumped on the floor with head in hands, his breath coming quickly and his throat tightened painfully.
Logan unzips his backpack, fishing around for his pill bottle. When he finds it he tips out two pills from the bottle, then a third, swallowing them dry. Harsh, cold, cruel. Done. And now, I get to be numb.
