A/N: Here's the new installment of TLTIB. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Say it with me: NO!

Timeline: after Little Beach Party, but before Back to PCA; at the end of eighth grade, somewhere in April-May 2005.

Words: 1,498

Couple(s): implied Dana/Logan; mentioned Chase/Zoey, Michael/Dana friendship.

Inspiration: I wanted to be versatile, and get the hang of writing Dana's character and this pairing again because I think I lost it. And I want to get it back so the glaring guilt of leaving my twoshot to collect dust for nearly nine months would go away. Yes. I suck.

The Little Things In Between

Denial

I'm sitting here on the beach, staring ahead at the waves that crash against each other.

I'm Dana Cruz. Everyone knows that I'm capable of punching someone in the mouth if they were to run it. That person deserved it and I'm not going to waste my time, hearing one dumbass who decides to be stupid, spout a whole bunch of stupid. I'm not that cold though. People usually think I'm at cold-hearted bitch who would probably go beserk and go on a psychotic, rage induced killing spree if I were giving the chance.

Or licensed.

It pisses me off that people just automatically assume that, just because I like to speak my mind, that I'm automatically an angry person. Yes, I won't deny that I have an anger issue.

That's the only thing I can deny, actually, as I'm sitting here, as I absent-mindedly scoop up a small pile of sand and let it slip between my fingers, like the life I have here. I almost wish I could go back to anger management classes because at least they'll be here in California.

Not at some European French boarding school where I'll be shipped over to at the end of the school year, which would be in two weeks.

I haven't told anyone because I can't deal with the whole aftershock.

I'm still trying to stew in my anger, and really hate my parents for dumping this on me.

I don't hate them, though. I can't. Shocking.

It's easier to deny things. It's way easier to pretend shit doesn't matter to you. It's what got me through fourteen years so far. What's another two weeks.

I'll miss everyone so much, even though I'll deny with all of my being that I really don't give a damn. I'll fake it and pretend and go on, pretending that Quinn is a freak when in reality, we're both the same in a way. Quinn and I both do our own things, and don't think twice what opinions or 'feelings' people will spew about us.

To hell with that.

But still I have to keep up the act to ignore the goddamn stinging in the back of my eyes.

I'll deny that Nicole's hairdryer – well, that annoys me, even more so that Nicole broke Quinn's silent leaf blower! Ugh. I hate her for do that, and I do feel like the overwhelming need to strangle her. But in truth, that high pitched, banshee scream she does, when she sees my 'I'm-going-to-castrate-you-from-limb-to-limb-and-enjoy-it' look, will stay with me for a long time.

I will act like I don't care about Zoey's mothering and oblivious attitude. But that already annoys me.

I'll act like I really don't give two flying fire trucks when he literally, and figuratively falls over all himself when he's near Zoey. But I kind of care and I kind of don't. To me, the situation winds down to, "I love Chase, but either he grows some balls big enough to tell her, and if she's so stupidly oblivious about it, oh well."

But I love Chase, like a brother.

There are two people that see past my walls. Past my tough girl front.

Fifty percent of the time, I'm okay with it, and other fifty percent makes me want to scream and break more than just his big toe for invading me like that off-guard.

Michael is my best friend.

He's the one I get along with the most, and truthfully, I'll miss him so much, it'll probably kill me.

And then there's the other. The other guy is who like a really annoying rash.

Annoying and hard to get rid of.

I hate him. I can't stand him, and his self-righteous, 'I'm-better-than-you' attitude. I can't stand how he just naturally assumes that I'm going to kiss his ass before I'm "hot" and "a girl". Therefore, if I'm those two things, I have to surrender my will to him, and his "magnetic awesomeness".

Fat chance, Reese.

I'm going to deny that I broke his toe because he thought I'd make out with "the champ".

Truth is, I fell for him so hard, it shocked the shit out of me and I cried.

I didn't want to get close to anyone and I ended up liking him. I could almost feel myself stick my hand into my own chest, taking out my own beating heart and handing it to him in a bloodied mess.

It would have gone something like this, "Here's my heart. I hate you. I can't stand you. I'd love nothing more than shove you into oncoming traffic, but here's my heart. You'll break it, but take the damn thing anyway!"

It's just easier to deny it, so I will.

I saw a shadow looming over me, and knew how to the outline belonged to. I'm going to deny that ache in my chest. I could feel those dark brown eyes boring into the back of my neck. I've yelled in the face so many times that I actually have it engraved in my mind.

Pretty damn fucked.

Those goddamn tears wanted to make an appearance again, and my throat was about to go dry when I saw him, but I deny that. That smirk was enough to fuel of my well-known rage. It was enough to have the adrenaline going, and the tears – the ones that were showing up because I'll miss him so much, it'll cut me deeper than anything – are forced to disappear as if they never showed up.

I hugged my knees to my chest, wrapping my arms around that securely.

"Mind if I join you, Cruz. Movie's lame, and Nicole going to talk my ear off. And I figured you'd want my company, who wouldn't?"

I turned to him, and shrugged. I envy him and his tanned skin, and I hate myself for liking that.

God, I should punch in that washboard gut for saying stupid, partially truthful shit like that.

Fine, you happy? I LOVE him and his tanned skin.

I can't forget the eye roll and the glares. That's my ammo against Logan, and if I don't have that, I'm royally screwed.

"It's a free country, Reese," I replied, with a snap quality. I feel myself brimming over silent rage, but I put a sarcastic smile on my face. "And for your information, you could sit on top of a tank of hungry sharks, and I wouldn't care. So, it's not you and your awesomeness at all."

Logan doesn't smirk. He doesn't ask me to make out with him, but all he does is stare me at directly in the eyes, like he's trying to read into me, and break my barrier again.

Stay the fuck out of head, Reese. I gave you my heart, that's it! Go away.

"You're even more snappy than usual."

"So?" I rebutted, quirking an eyebrow. I don't want him to psychoanalyze me because he'll be totally right.

"It means, something's eating you, Dana. What's wrong?"

He called me by my first name. Not Cruz, but Dana. His eyes had this concern in them, and I had to tear my gaze away fast. I felt a lump in my throat, the grip on my anger loosening. I had to have that, so I sighed, memories of our arguments flipping through my head like channels on a television. Like the annoying channel surfing Nicole does before she settles on Laguna Beach and I want to gouge my eyes out.

Everything's wrong, I want to answer. I'm leaving PCA, and I like you.

But I can't say anything. So, I'll deny it. I'll deny my hardest. I'll deny with everything I have.

"Nothing," I answered, with an annoyed look and roll my eyes. "Nothing was bothering me until you came by. Just…leave me, Logan."

I'm Dana Cruz, tough girl with a white hot temper.

So, I'll live up to that, and I deny that I care about leaving at all. And that I care about him.

I'll deny that I'm on the verge of these fucking tears, and he's just hugging me, wrapping his arms around me, like he actually cares. I haven't even told him yet.

I opened my mouth to shut him down, once and for all but he beat me to it, "Just shut up, okay?"

"I hate you."

"Whatever, Cruz. You have denial issues."

"What the hell is your point?" I questioned, when we pulled away, but I made no move to get his arm off of my shoulders. "I can't stand you."

"Still want to murder me in my sleep?"

No.

"Yeah," I replied, with a slight smirk, tugging at my lips.

I'd tell him I was leaving tomorrow.

Right now, I'll deny that fact, even though it's staring me in the face, and pretend, as he wraps his arms around me slightly tighter.

Denial is just easier than dealing with the hard truth of it all.

A/N: It's three am in the morning. Review. I'll write something Quogan and Choey to to balance it out with the Chola I've been dishing out recently later. Right now, I'm tired. Reviews would be appreciated. Let me know how I did. I liked the piece. My longest one yet. Hope you did too. The Zoey 101 FF Awards are winding down. Just a month until it's over. Info about that is on my profile. Or just PM me and I'll tell you about it. Excuse any errors you may find. Brain is slightly mush.

Goodnight,

-Erika