"So I heard about something at the publishing house today that I wanted to talk to you about," Logan said to Veronica one evening while they were at the dog park with Taser.

"Yeah?" Veronica replied as she threw the ball Taser had dropped at her feet.

"There is this organization that offers after school programs for high school students. They are looking for published authors who are interested in helping kids interested in creative writing. I was kind of thinking of giving it a try." Logan was now throwing the ball for Taser, who seemed to like to take turns of who was throwing it. "I'm not sure though," Logan added.

"I think that sounds like an interesting idea. What is the program like?" Veronica asked. Taser had flopped down at her feet; she was fastening his leash back on, so they could head home.

"Well, someone presented it to me. I guess they like to find local authors to help the kids. They are mainly kids who want to be writers, so working with published authors gives them a better idea of what is required," Logan explained as they walked back toward the apartment.

"What made you consider helping out with it?" Veronica asked. She thought the program sounded great, but it surprised her a bit that Logan would be interested.

"It seemed like a chance to make a difference, if I could help some kids, maybe some who need someone to be interested in what they are interested in. I know that would have helped me at that age, knowing that someone thought I could be successful at something like that." Logan looked at Veronica. "Am I making any sense?"

Veronica laughed. "Yeah, it makes perfect sense." She put an arm on his shoulder. "I think it is great you are considering this."

"So you think it is a good idea?" Logan asked.

"I do," Veronica replied with a smile. She walked into the lobby of the apartment building as Logan held the door open for her. "It sounds like it could be fun too."

"I thought so," Logan said. "I've never had anything to do with teenagers though. I mean not since I was one."

Veronica laughed. "What about Heather?" she asked.

"Well, she isn't a teenager anymore, and she wasn't when I met her either."

"True, but you did interact with her while she was. Anyway, I'm sure you could handle it." She let Taser off his leash as they entered the apartment and followed him into the laundry room to feed him. "So, is it like a class or more one on one stuff?" Veronica asked.

"I think like smaller groups and one on one mainly. It didn't sound like a class really." Logan was sitting on the couch when Veronica returned to the living room. "So you think I should do it?" Logan asked as she sat down next to him.

"I think, if you want to, it sounds like a great idea." She smiled at him.


"So do you think we should go away or just stay here?" Logan asked Saturday morning, while he and Veronica were lying in bed lazily.

"What?" Veronica asked casually. "When?"

"Three weeks from now," Logan said. "Oh please tell me you know what it is. I am really sick of being the girl in this relationship."

Veronica looked at him thoughtfully. "Three weeks…," she repeated. "Oh my god, it's our anniversary."

"And she gets it," Logan said with a laugh. "I was a little worried there. So, what do you think?"

"I don't know," Veronica replied. "Going away might be nice. Can we go somewhere we can take Taser though?" she asked looked at the dog lounging on the floor by the bed.

"Sure. I can't believe we actually made it to a year. I guess we finally figured this out, huh?"

Veronica smiled. "We haven't made it to a year yet; we still have three weeks."

"I'm confident in our chances," Logan said wrapping his arms around Veronica and pulling her towards him, her back against his chest. "After all, we've made it much longer than we ever have in the past." He kissed her neck making her laugh.

"That's true," Veronica said with another laugh as he kissed her again. Logan flipped her around in his arms and pinned her back to the bed. He bent down slowly and kissed her, working his way from her lips to her neck. "I'm glad," Veronica muttered.

"Hmm?" Logan asked against her neck.

"I'm glad," she repeated. "That we're still together." She felt his lips form into a smile against her neck.

"Me too," he said before kissing her more.


Logan shifted nervously on his feet in the lobby of the after-school learning center. "Mr. Lester?" a man in his mid-forties, wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt asked.

"Logan," Logan answered shaking the man's outstretched hand. "My last name is actually Echolls, but Logan is fine."

"I'm Henry," the man said. "I run the enrichment program here."

"It's nice to meet you. I have to say I'm a little nervous. I wasn't really clear on just what to expect or what you want me to be doing?" Logan said as Henry led him into the office area.

"No problem. I'll run through things with you now." Henry led Logan into his office and motioned to a chair. Logan sat down, and Henry continued, "The program is open to students in seventh to twelfth grade who are interested in becoming writers. We have a few journalists who work with us too, for the students interested in pursuing journalism. These are mainly kids who have had some tough breaks. They come from low income homes for the most part, and a lot of them have bigger issues as well."

Logan nodded. "I understand."

"The idea of following ambitions to be writers or do anything artistic can be foreign to these students and their families, so it helps them to talk to someone who has done it. But, obviously the main goal is to get someone with skills in their area of interest to help them develop their own abilities. We, of course, have programs in other areas, as well." Henry leaned back as he finished.

Logan had continued to nod during Henry's explanation. A lot of the information he had already known, but this was a bit more direct of an explanation. "Sounds good," he replied.

"I have to say I was a little surprised when I saw your name on our list," Henry said. "I remember everything that happened with your family ten years ago." Logan felt himself tense at Henry's reference to his family. "What I mean to say is that you don't have all that much in common with the kinds of kids we serve."

"You might be surprised," Logan answered. "Having money doesn't make your life easy. Like you said, you remember what happened with my family." Logan took a deep breath. He figured he needed to prove himself to this guy if he really wanted to be involved in this program. "My father cheated on my mother repeatedly, leading her to kill herself. One of his indiscretions happened to be my high school girlfriend, whom he eventually killed to prevent from exposing his secret." Logan sighed. "I think that counts as some "tough breaks" as you called them. I am guessing some of these kids have lost a parent or have one who is absent. I lost both of mine while I was still in high school, so I might not be as different from them as you think."

Henry was looking at Logan thoughtfully. "Want to meet the kids?" he asked.

"Sounds good," Logan replied.

Henry led him back to the main part of the building. "There are about twenty-one kids involved in the program at the moment. We have a total of six writers who come and work with us, most come twice a week. It is up to you how often you come; we just need a schedule so we know what to plan for. The students don't come everyday either. What we have found usually happens is that different kids make connections with certain mentors, that's what we refer to you as, and then they attend on the days they know that person will be here."

"That makes sense," Logan said.

Henry continued, "It is really the personal relationships a lot of these kids need." He opened the door to a room filled with tables and chairs. One wall was lined with windows; there were inspirational posters on the others. "Everyone this is…" Henry trailed off as he was unsure how to introduce Logan.

"Logan," Logan finished for him. He figured it was best to keep things simple.

"He is a new novelist here to work with the program, new to the program that is." Henry turned to leave and then patted Logan's shoulder. "Good luck."

There were probably about twelve kids in the room. Two girls who looked to be about fifteen sat at a table alone. They had looked back at their papers when Henry had left. In the middle of the room, a man who looked to be in his late fifties sat surrounded by five other kids of varying ages. A woman sat on the other side of the room working with just one boy. Another younger woman was sitting on the floor with some kids pointing out something in the newspaper.

The man stood and approached Logan. "I'm Roger," he introduced himself. "Welcome."

"Thanks," Logan said.

"Why don't you join me in what I'm doing with the kids. Sometimes it helps getting started to work together."

"Sure, thanks," Logan said. He followed Roger back to the table. He was explaining to the group the importance of character development and some strategies to use. Logan made a couple comments but mainly just observed.

After about ten minutes, Logan's attention was drawn to a boy, who looked to be about fourteen, sitting alone in the corner of the room writing in a notebook. Something about the boy pulled at Logan. Eventually, he got up and moved to sit next to him. "Hi, I'm Logan," he said.

"Oliver," the boy said.

"Nice to meet you," Logan said. "Am I interrupting your writing?" he asked.

"It's okay," Oliver replied. "I'm kind of stuck."

"I hate that. I got really bad writer's block toward the end of my last book." Logan smiled at the boy. "But if I am bothering you, you can say so. I know when I write sometimes I get really annoyed at anything that interrupts me, even my girlfriend."

Oliver smiled. "If I had a girlfriend, I don't think that would bother me."

"She usually doesn't," Logan said with a smile. "Just sometimes." He was glad to have gotten a smile out of this boy, who seemed so sad. "What are you writing?"

"Just a story. It isn't very good." Oliver let the notebook drop to his lap. "What are your books about?"

"How'd you know I've written more than one?" Logan asked curiously.

"You said you got writer's block with your last book. That implies you wrote more than one."

"Smart," Logan said. "I've written three. The last one just came out. I just barely finished my first major tour."

"That's cool. They must be pretty good then if you got to tour." Oliver said admiringly.

Logan nodded. "They do okay."

"What are they about?" Oliver asked again, not being deterred.

"Mmm, life I guess." Logan answered. "The first one was about a young woman dealing with the death of her family in an accident and really just finding her own way in life. I guess they all kind of have to do with people figuring out who they really are."

Oliver nodded. "That's cool," he said.

"Can I read what you wrote?" Logan asked. Oliver looked hesitantly at the notebook but eventually passed it to Logan. Logan read through the five-page story about a boy being bullied at school. He felt his heart break as he assumed this was based on a real life experience of Oliver's. The worst part was that the bully in the story reminded him of himself in high school.

He finished and handed the notebook back. "You're wrong," Logan said. "It is good." Oliver looked at him hopefully. "I really like the way you used the description of the colors in the hallway to symbolize the emotions of the various characters. And your dialogue is very clever."

"Thanks," Oliver said.

"So since I am new here, and you're probably an expert, how am I doing?" Logan asked.

"I've only been coming here for three weeks," Oliver explained. "But, I think you are doing a good job so far. I like talking to you."

"Me too," Logan said.

"My dad will be here to get me in five minutes," Oliver said. "I need to head outside. He doesn't like to wait." Logan nodded. "What are the titles of your books? You read something of mine. It seems fair I should get to read something of yours."

"They might be too grown up for you. How old are you?"

"Fifteen. Nothing will shock me, believe me," Oliver insisted.

"The first one is called A Stone's Throw," Logan said. "My pen name is L.E. Lester."

"Thanks," Oliver said. "When will you be here again?"

"Tomorrow," Logan answered. "Will I see you?"

Oliver seemed to think about it for a moment. "Yeah, I'll be here. See you." He stood up, grabbed a backpack from by the door, and left the room. Logan smiled and stood up to go find some other kids to work with.


Veronica had gotten home and started dinner when Logan walked through the door. "Were you rearranging the furniture again?" he asked from the living room. Lately, Veronica had taken to moving furniture around the apartment. Logan wasn't sure why.

"Just a bit," she replied from the kitchen. "I thought it might be a nice change to move the couch. How was it?" she asked, changing topics, as he came into the kitchen.

"Good," Logan said and kissed her cheek. He leaned against the counter next to the stove where Veronica was working on a stir-fry. "Actually, really good. I enjoyed it."

"I'm glad," she said as he stole a pea off the cutting board. "Tell me about it. What'd you do? What was the best part?"

"Well, I met with the director of the enrichment program first. He didn't seem to think much of me, at least not at first. I think I might have changed his mind though." Logan stole another vegetable. "Then I got into working with the kids. There was this one boy, Oliver. He seemed like a good kid. Great writer, too. I think I made a connection with him; he seemed like he needed it." He looked back at Veronica who was grinning at him. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said leaning up to kiss him quickly. "Want to open a bottle of wine?" she asked.

"Sure," Logan said. He vanished into the dining room to grab a bottle off the wine rack. When he came back with two full glasses, he began to hold one out to Veronica before moving it just slightly out of her reach. "You can have it when you tell me what you were thinking a moment ago."

Veronica laughed. "Come on Logan," she said reaching for the wine. He kept it firmly in his hand, out of her reach and looked at her seriously. "Fine," she conceded. "I was thinking how impressed I was to hear you talking about that. How passionate you are about writing and wanting to share that is amazing, and the way you talked about that kid." She sighed slightly. "It just made me proud I guess."

Logan smiled at her. "I love when you say that," he admitted.

"What?" she asked as he pulled her into his arms.

"That you're proud of me," he said with a small smile. "It's all I've ever wanted, to make you proud." He leaned his head down resting his forehead against hers. "Well that, and for you to love me."

"You do," Veronica said leaning up to kiss him. "And I do."

Logan kissed her again more deeply. "Dinner ready?" he asked as he pulled back.

"You must be hungry to be thinking about food," Veronica teased. "But, yes." She handed him an empty plate and began to dish food onto her own. They sat down and ate dinner before taking Taser out for a walk.

As they were walking, Veronica asked, "So what was it like to spend time with teenagers? Were your apprehensions warranted?"

"It was fine. Though reading some of their writing made me really glad not to be a teenager anymore," Logan replied thoughtfully.

Veronica laughed. "You couldn't pay me to go back to all of that." They continued to walk back toward the apartment.

"You know," Logan said. "There is one thing I do miss from being a teenager." They were getting into the elevator.

"What's that?" Veronica asked.

"This," Logan replied. He reached out and pulled Veronica to him wrapping his arms tightly around her back as his lips crashed into hers. He spun her against the wall of the elevator, and she dropped Taser's leash as her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, pulling their bodies closer together and her onto her toes. Logan's lips travelled to her neck, and his hands found the bare skin on the small of her back. Suddenly, his lips her back on hers, and he had turned them again so his back was now on the adjoining wall of the elevator.

When they reached their floor and finally broke apart, Veronica laughed slightly. "Cause we never do that now."

"It's not quite the same," Logan said. They walked down the hall and into the apartment. Logan, who had retrieved Taser's leash from the floor of the elevator, let the dog free. He glanced at Veronica who was sitting on the couch removing her shoes. "Do you remember what it was like?"

"What what was like? Being a teenager?" Veronica asked.

"No, when we first got together?" Logan asked sitting next to her with a grin.

She laughed. "You mean the part where it was impossibly hard to keep our hands off each other?"

Logan pulled her back into his arms. "Exactly," he said kissing her. "I guess not all that much has changed." Veronica smiled at him as he kissed her again.