Logan POV
"Mike?" Veronica's voice echoes loudly through the rooms. She throws her keys down on the side table in the foyer, moving further into the house, head swiveling from room to room looking for Mike. I follow her as she makes her way to the kitchen, noticing the way her back is stiff, her movements frantic the longer the silence holds.
"Mike!" Her yell shrill, near a scream, fear starting to take hold. My hand moves without thought to take hers, offering whatever comfort I can. Before I make the connection though, Mike's answering yell has her darting past me and up the stairs. Unsure whether to follow, I hesitate before running up the stairs after her. Following the sounds of quiet voices, I stand in the doorway of what must be Mike's room.
The scene that greets me reminds me of the distance between Veronica and me. The pain that hits me is visceral and raw. It feels like someone has reached into my chest and is squeezing my heart in a vise grip, radiating waves of agony through my entire body. Mike has Veronica tucked up in an intimate hug, her head under his, his chin resting on top, eyes closed as he murmurs quietly to her. His arms are wound around her waist, holding her close while rocking her gently. Her arms are wrapped around his neck tightly, her eyes closed, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Their pose is reminiscent of how I held her the night the truth about Cassidy Casablancas came out. I used to be the one she ran to when she was upset, hurt, or afraid. I was her safe place. Now what am I? Nothing. Where do I belong in her life? Nowhere.
The tears fill my eyes, but I rub them harshly, holding it all at bay. Mike senses me and opens his eyes. His electric blue gaze filled with pity and I want to hit him, hit anything. Rage courses through my veins and my entire body trembles with the effort of containing it. Mine, she's mine.
Mike slowly untangles himself from Veronica, who's still oblivious to my presence. He kisses the top of her head before taking a step back. "Hey man. Veronica was just telling me about the nasty surprise at your hotel." His voice is soothing, like he can tell I'm seconds away from losing it. I wouldn't be surprised if my skin was as red as the rage still rushing through me. I take several deep breaths, trying to calm down. He's her friend. Of course she went to her friend to share her worries and fears. I'm sure not finding him immediately when we got back only intensified everything that she's feeling. I am such a selfish jackass.
I didn't even consider how seeing that hair must have made her feel. I was so wrapped up in my own fears and issues that I completely ignored all the signs she needed me. It probably brought up all those old memories, fighting off Mercer, Cassidy, Duncan. Okay, maybe not that last one since she never seemed to see what Duncan did as rape. I shut down that line of thought, slamming the door on it before I find myself beyond control. Fuck, I need a drink.
"How much did she tell you?" I try to keep my voice steady, unwilling to betray the myriad of emotions swirling through me, anger, fear, despair, love, lust, regret. Veronica has finally noticed me and is gazing at me curiously. Her eyes are stormy as she wipes the remaining tears from her face. She answers my question before Mike can.
"I told him about the package and that we need to leave." Her simple honesty surprises me, my eyes widening slightly. This Veronica Mars is different from the one I knew. My Veronica wouldn't have apologized, wouldn't have been so open, she definitely wouldn't have stood there vulnerable with evidence of her emotions on her face talking to me honestly. My Veronica would have run, pushed me out. This Veronica, Mike's Veronica, my traitorous mind supplies, stands her ground, tries for open honesty and isn't afraid to show what she feels. I just wish she felt something for me.
"I'm assuming you want the keys to the house?" Mike's face breaks into a crooked smile as he looks at her. She nods, glancing at me and then away.
"What house?" I try not to read too much into her avoidance of my gaze. I don't know what's making her nervous about this house. I really hope it's not the Hampton house that they were staying at before because it's very likely Mercer already knows about that one. He probably followed her there after she found the original note. My brow furrows as I frown, the rest of my brain catching up to my wayward thoughts. How did Mercer know what to put in that note? By the time the fight with Gorya happened, Mercer and his accomplice Moe were already in jail.
Mike gives me an odd stare, but I shake my head slightly. I want to know where we're going and leave as soon as possible. The longer we stay here, the less safe I think it is. My rage has subsided, but anxiety has taken its place, making me fidget. I run a hand over the back of my neck while I wait for Veronica's answer.
"It's not really a house per se." Veronica tilts her head and I brace myself. That head tilt is dangerous. "Mike has a cabin in West Virginia, it's completely off the grid, no cell reception, no internet. It doesn't exist and there is no way to trace it to either Mike or myself."
"So your plan is we hole up in a cabin in some hollar?" I'm not the entitled snob I was in high school. Having a real job in the real world has mostly broken me of my previous habits, but the thought of going off the grid in what is sure to be some rundown cabin in the middle of nowhere doesn't sound like my cup of tea. I look closely at Veronica, her head is still tilted and a slight smile graces her face. The girl I knew wasn't really the outdoorsy type, but from the way she describes the cabin it's clear that this is a place she's been and doesn't mind.
I am completely off my game these past few days. As I turn the idea over in my mind I realize the other side of what she's suggesting. Her and me, alone, in a secluded cabin in the middle of nowhere, just us. Before I follow down that rabbit hole too fast, reality quickly sets in reminding me of my life now.
"How are we going to work the case without resources? I can't be out of communication. I'm on leave, but I have to be reachable at all times." My shoulders lift in a halfhearted shrug as I list my concerns with this plan.
"Pixie-chick might be overselling how off the grid it is. She's also leaving out some key features. The so-called cabin is more of a rustic resort. It's got six bedrooms, a pool, plenty of private land for hiking. It also has the internet, but it's unhackable and has a landline. Cell phone reception is a no go." Mike smirks at Veronica, who sticks her tongue out at him.
"It's his smallest house." She chuckles lightly at the confusion suffusing my face.
"I'd need to give my CO the number. How do we get there?" My concerns relieved, I'm ready to get a move on. I have four days left on my leave, though I can always ask to extend for a few more days if necessary.
"We'll drive, of course." Mike walks to his closet, reaching up to pull down a bag. I can't help the disappointment that crosses my face before I school my features into an indifferent mask. So much for alone time. Oh Logan, you're playing with fire.
Veronica moves to leave the room, but pauses when she comes even to where I'm standing. She motions for me to join her. We walk to her room in silence. Once again I'm struck by how little I know of her now. We used to be friends. Even with Mike joining us, hopefully we'll have a chance to rekindle our friendship.
I stand awkwardly in the doorway as Veronica moves about the room, gathering her things. Struggling for something to say, I let my eyes wander around the room, noting that it seems like it was made for her. If I didn't know that she didn't live here, I'd assume this was her room. There's even a picture of her and Keith on the side table.
"What about your dad?" My voice sounds loud in the silence. Veronica's head whips up from the shirt she's folding, looking at me suspiciously. "Are you going to tell him what's going on?"
Her teeth worry her lower lip as her eyes gaze lifts upward. A classic sign of that beautifully brilliant mind, hard at work. I shift uncomfortably as the blood leaves my head and travels south. I am transfixed on her lips, wanting to replace her teeth with my own. I imagine biting it and soothing the sting with a sweep of my tongue before tangling it with hers, drawing out those breathy moans she used to make when I kissed her. She finishes her contemplation and her blue eyes draw mine. I keep my face impassive, afraid to scare her off.
"I will call him once we're at the cabin, have him work things from here." She pauses, sadness maring her beautiful face before her mask slips back on. "He won't be happy about me working a case. He was glad when I left it behind."
This is my chance to start to get to know her again. I take a step towards her, but she whirls away, looking in the nightstand for something. She glances over her shoulder at me and points at her bag.
"Would you mind finishing that for me? I need to make a list of everything we need to know so we can make a plan once we're at the cabin." She goes back to her search without waiting for my answer. As I start to pack the clothes she's laid out on the bed, folding it carefully, she finds a notebook and starts writing furiously, sitting down on the bed a few feet away from me.
We work in silence for a few minutes. I'm acutely aware of how close she is to me, but I try to stay focused on the task at hand. When I've packed all of her shirts and pants, I stare at the silky underthings she's laid out, unsure if I should continue. I pick up a red satin and lace bra, running my fingers over the material. My body shudders at the feel of it against my skin. I drop it in the bag as if it burns me and scoop up the rest of the lingerie, shoving it in. Veronica glances up at me sharply but doesn't say anything.
I start for the bathroom to grab her shampoo and such, but she stops me with a hand on mine. I glance down at her questioningly. I thought the feel of satin that has been against her skin was the best thing I've felt in a long time, but this is better. Her skin is slightly cold, but soft. She rubs her thumb across the back of my hand and my breath stutters. At the hotel, I held her hand tightly as I dragged us to my room, but was too agitated at the time to take notice of it.
"I'm just going to grab the rest of your things." I pull my hand away from hers, my heart racing. Before she can answer I rush into the bathroom and close the door behind me. Taking deep gulping breaths as I lean against the sink, staring at my pale face in the mirror. She has a boyfriend, you are nothing to her.
A soft knock on the door startles me before her soft voice comes through "Logan, are you alright?"
I glance towards the door before looking in the mirror again. "Get it together, Echolls. You can do this, you have to do this to keep her safe."
I stand up straight, run my fingers through my hair. Looking around, I snatch up the products scattered across the vanity and in the shower. When I've gotten everything I can carry, I open the bathroom door. She's standing there, confusion and concern warring in her big blue eyes.
"Everything okay?" Her voice is soft. I nod, not trusting my voice, and step around her, placing the toiletries in her bag.
She stands next to me and zips it closed. "Ready?" Nodding, I pick up her bag and we walk downstairs to find Mike.
Mike is sitting in the living room, playing on his phone, but looks up at us when we enter the room. He grabs the bag next to him and heads towards the back of the house. Veronica and I follow quietly. I feel like I'm a passenger in all of this. Mike and Veronica seem to have everything all figured out, and I'm just along for the ride. I trail behind the two of them and Veronica glances back at me, her eyes etched with concern.
My smile is dim, but it's the best I can muster. I can't help but feel like this is all my fault. I played right into Mercer's plan by being here with her. Mercer assumes, correctly, that I won't leave her side. An easy two for one package deal. I have never regretted trusting him more than I do right now. There were many drunken ramblings about the depth of my love for Veronica, especially after I broke up with her. Looking back on it now, I can see how Mercer pushed for information on Veronica and I was so blind, I practically handed her to him on a silver platter. He's expecting me to stay with her, so if I left, there's a good chance Veronica could stay safely hidden with Mike. The more I think about it, the more logical it sounds in my head. Everything in me rebels against the idea of leaving her, letting someone else be responsible for her safety, but this could work.
"Uh- maybe you two should just go and I'll go back to Neptune? Mike and you can stay safe in the cabin. Mercer will just come after me."
Veronica stops suddenly, the color leaching from her skin as she stares at me with her mouth open. "No." She shakes her head vehemently. "Just no, Logan. You have to come with me. I need you. Please."
Veronica Mars just said she needs me. I am never leaving her again.
She mouths, "Okay?" and I nod. There's a garage behind the house. Brownstone in Manhattan with a private two-car garage, house in the Hamptons, cabin in West Virginia with six bedrooms. Just how wealthy is Mike? Veronica seems comfortable in his world in a way that she never felt with me. It doesn't really matter, it's not a competition. Except it kind of is, and I'm losing. He has a place in her life, he has her trust, her love. They have that silent communication that we once had. What do I have?
A chance. If I don't blow it.
Mike opens the garage, revealing an Audi Q8 and a black 1994 Chrysler LeBaron. My eyes widen in surprise. It looks exactly like the one Veronica had in high school. It can't possibly be the same car. She replaced it with the Saturn before our freshman year at Hearst.
"Is that a time machine?" Mike throws his bag into the trunk of the Audi SUV with a smirk. He tosses Veronica keys. I move to put my bag into the Audi, but Veronica snatches it away from me and tosses it into the back seat of the LeBaron along with hers. She smiles brightly at the confusion clouding my face.
"It was a gift." She glances at Mike as she throws out the explanation, smirking mischievously. Mike chuckles. Clearly another inside joke. Veronica gets behind the wheel and gestures for me to join her. I glance at Mike, but he's opening the door of the Audi.
I move around the front of the car, and Veronica revs the engine. I smirk at the reminder of another road trip. As the memory plays through, it's followed by others and the corners of my mouth turn down at the corners. I wish our history wasn't so fucked up. Even a simple joke has the ability to send me down a rabbit hole of regret.
Slipping into the passenger seat, I try to find a comfortable position in the too small car. This is going to be a long car ride.
"So what is our plan?" I shift my legs again.
"You and I are going to drive to Mike's condo in Philadelphia while Mike drives to DC. You and I will spend a night in the condo and then take a train to DC where Mike will get us before we head to the cabin." She backs out of the garage, sweeping her head to ensure no one is waiting.
"Doesn't that just leave a trail?" She's rustier than I realized if she thinks a couple of stops will keep Mercer from finding us. Obviously he knew enough to use Gorya's threat to bring us together and where I was staying. I'd guess he's bugged her somehow. At the thought, I reach into the backseat and grab her phone.
"Logan, no!" She yells angrily as I go to throw it out the window. I pause, turning in my seat to look at her incredulously.
"Veronica. Mercer probably has you bugged. How else would he have known where I was staying?" She shakes her head vehemently, glaring at me as she continues to drive.
"I already checked all our phones. Besides, that phone is untraceable." She lets out a tiny huff of air, annoyed, turning to look straight ahead.
"Oh." It's all I can really think to say. I'm so out of my depth here. Once again, I feel like I'm just along for the ride. It's not the way I'm built, to stay on the sidelines.
"Look, we've got about two hours before we get to Mike's Philly place, if traffic cooperates. There's not much we can do on the case until we get to the cabin so why don't we use this time to get rid of this awkwardness between us." She glances at me and gives me a small smile.
She feels it too, that distance that's grown between us. It's not just nine years of radio silence, it's not wanting to fall into our old patterns. I loved her, still love her, but even I knew that our relationship back then was toxic. We couldn't seem to help but hurt one another. I wanted a chance to let her know who I am now and while I may not have a chance with her romantically, I want to keep her in my life when all of this is over. Fuck I've missed her.
Returning her smile with a shy one of my own, I nod. "Where do we start?"
"Why did you join the Navy?"
"Cause I get to fly planes." I slip on my aviators as I provide the flip answer I tell everyone who asks me that question. It's a popular question from my old Neptune High minions. No one sees why the King of the 09'ers would voluntarily get a job especially one that made his life not his own. That's okay with me because I don't like to talk about what really brought me to that point.
Veronica glances at me, quirking an eyebrow to tell me she's not buying it. I should have known better than to think that I could get away with the short answer with her.
I sigh heavily, knowing that my interrogation won't be complete unless I'm completely honest. This shouldn't be so hard. I want to get to know her again, have her know me. Yet all those old fears surface. What if she's disappointed in me? Our brief interaction in my hotel room proves that I am not impervious to what Veronica Mars thinks. This could quickly turn into a game of landmine and I'm not sure I want to play.
"Logan, I'm not going to force you to tell me anything. I was just curious. I assume it had something to do with your grandfather, but you don't have to tell me." This is new. Since when does Veronica Mars not go for the jugular when someone is keeping something from her?
"It's not that. I want to tell you, but it's a long story and there are some not so nice places along the way."
"Well we have a long drive." We're stopped in a long line of traffic when she turns in the seat to face me. "I mean it, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. I know we don't know each other anymore and I want to get to know you, but not if it's going to make you uncomfortable."
The line starts moving and she faces forward again, weaving in and out of traffic.
Another deep sigh, but if I have any hope of keeping her in my life after this, I'm going to have to trust that she's changed. Her words and willingness to let me keep my secrets is so far removed from the angry, closed off woman I once knew it's not even funny. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
"After you left, I was a mess." I rush to continue before she thinks that I'm blaming her. "It wasn't your fault. You were a bright spot in my otherwise dark life and you kept my self-destructiveness at bay for a while. Even if you hadn't left, it was only a matter of time before I imploded."
Her eyes widen in shock, but she nods slightly, choosing to remain silent.
"You name it I probably did it. I wallowed in alcohol and drugs. I took anything that would drown out the voices in my head for a little while." I can't look at her. "One night, I tried to drown myself. I was high and miserable and it seemed like a good idea at the time. I couldn't imagine continuing the way I was, the days stretching out before me endlessly. There was too much pain, too much anger, just too much. I was lost and alone. I wanted it all to stop. The ocean didn't agree. It spit me out half conscious, completely fucked up. A passerby found me freezing on the beach and called 911. In the hospital, I realized I didn't want to die. But I couldn't keep going the way I was. Somehow I had become a victim like my mother, letting everything in my life control me; the drugs, the alcohol, the sex. What I really wanted to be was to be a survivor, for my life to mean something. I made a choice to get help. Trying to cope on my own with my shitty skills was just going to kill me."
I don't add that I didn't want to hurt her with my death. I didn't want to continue to cause her pain.
"I went to rehab, therapy. I really committed to becoming healthy. My life was without focus and my therapist helped me to find that focus with the Navy after I told her about my grandfather." She's staring at the road in front of us, but from the tilt of her head I know she's focused on my words. I consider telling her about the discussions about her, her strength and ability to move beyond the fucked up things that had happened to her and still find it in herself to help others. How I wanted to be better for her, become the kind of man worthy of her love. Now isn't the time though. This is just getting to know each other again, words of love and devotion have no place. "Flying planes is indescribable. When I'm up there, I'm free. It's one of the best feelings in the world. It all just fits." I finish my story with a light sigh. I've skimped on details because she doesn't need to know everything. She can make her own assumptions based on the jackass she knew nine years ago as to the kinds of things I was doing.
I finally glance over at her and tears are streaming down her cheeks. I reach out a hand to wipe them from her face, but pull back remembering that I have no right to comfort her now.
My voice hitches, my throat working around a lump "Veronica, please don't cry. It was all for the best." I don't know what part of my story is causing her to cry, but I don't want her to feel that she has any guilt in my poor life choices.
"Logan." Her voice breaks on my name and it breaks my heart. I didn't want to make her cry. She pulls over on the side of the highway and turns off the car. She turns to face me and takes my hand into her two tiny ones. The feeling of electricity crackles up my arm as I stare at our joined hands. "I'm glad you didn't die. I should have been there."
I shake my head. No, she didn't need to see me like that. "No, you needed to live your life. You weren't responsible for me."
"No, I wasn't responsible for you, but you are my oldest friend. I should have been a better friend to you. I was so angry, a ball of impotent rage when I left. I was destroying everything and everyone. I needed to leave, but I shouldn't have just left the way I did or stayed away as long as I have."
I wipe the tears from her cheek, reveling in the softness of her skin. "Why did you?" I need to know.
"Shame, fear, trying to live for other people. Take your pick. At first, I couldn't be near anything or anyone that reminded me of Neptune. I was trying to run away from all my memories, all the pain. I was running away from who I was, who we were, what we were to each other. Everything that happened was too much and I tried to pretend I was okay, but I just wasn't. I was hurting you and I hated myself for who I had become. It was easier to leave it all behind, become someone else." I nod in understanding and she smiles through her tears at me.
We sit holding hands, staring at each other intensely on the side of I-95 for a few more minutes. Finally she gives a little shake like waking up and pulls her hands back to the wheel, starting the car again and merging into traffic. My entire body aches with the desire to pull at least one back to me. I never want to let her go.
"So what else do you want to know?" In for a penny, in for a pound.
"Isn't there anything you want to know about me?" Her voice is quiet, almost shy. I debate giving her all my questions, but there are things I want to know. Why Piz? Why didn't you call me? Did you ever love me?
I settle on a safer choice. "What happened to the FBI?"
She grimaces as if the memory is painful. "They rescinded my offer."
"They what?" My mouth gapes open in surprise. Why in the hell would they do that? Don't they know how awesomely fantastic she is?
"Yeah, ummm. What do you know about those last few weeks Hearst, before you kicked Gorya's ass for me?"
"I gathered he was responsible for the sex tape, but beyond that…" I let my voice trail off. We weren't in each other's lives, not really by that point. I had started dating Parker and that was a complete mess. I really don't want to talk about other women or other men in our lives right now. It's still too raw for me.
Veronica shudders at the mention of the sex tape. I can sympathize. That tape still haunts me even more so than the ones of Lilly and my father.
"The tape is part of it. After I found out about it." After I showed up at Mars Investigations Piz's blood all over me and told her about it. "I was hell bent on finding out who did it." I nod but stay silent. I've never understood why she was targeted or how they knew she and Piz were getting intimate. Honestly I didn't think much past the fact that it existed and someone had to pay. Not a lot of higher brain function going on when it involved Veronica being hurt. If I'm absolutely honest, there was also a lot of jealousy going into what little thought there was.
"I traced it back to Gorya, but it wasn't about me. The camera had been planted to track Wallace as part of some initiation into a secret society called The Castle. I, uh, Jake Kane was the president. I sorta broke into his house and stole his hard drive."
Pieces start to fit together in my mind. Her dad losing the election, how she knew that Gorya was connected. At the time, I was more focused on the out of my life part of the story.
"That's why your dad lost the election." She nods, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
"I was out of control. I wanted revenge and wasn't thinking of the consequences. Dad destroyed evidence to protect me, but the FBI decided I wasn't the right kind of person for their organization." She shrugs nonchalantly though her voice holds a note of bitterness.
"Then where did you go?" She left right after classes ended and I never saw her again. I had assumed at first that she was in Virginia for the internship and that she would be back in the fall. I spent the summer, trying to distract myself, hoping for the chance to work things out when she returned. I gave her space, never expecting that she was never going to return.
"I had deferred my acceptance to Stanford." I know this, I was part of the reason that she chose to do that, to make things work for us. "I needed to get out of Neptune. I arranged to leave Hearst and attend Stanford in the fall. Then I took the money I had saved and did some traveling on my own. I had never been anywhere really. Just a few day trips within California, once to Arizona and that post-graduation trip to New York for a week. I wanted to go somewhere else and figure things out. I couldn't stay anymore, everything was crashing down and I just couldn't. I booked a flight to Europe and spent the summer, working in cafes and sightseeing."
That explains why her car was at her apartment all summer. I was just interested, not stalking. I assumed it was because she was in Virginia, but she wasn't even in the country.
"I screwed up Logan, so badly." Her voice is shaky with what sounds like regret. "I left everything and everyone. I just ran. I was lost for a really long time, until Mike."
"I understand. I was lost too. I think it's normal given everything we went through." She places her hand on top of mine sitting in my lap and I shift slightly so she doesn't notice the effect her touch has on me.
"Please don't do that. You've always forgiven me too easily. I don't deserve it. I treated you horribly, I couldn't trust you, couldn't give you what you needed. You didn't deserve that. I was a mess, but that doesn't excuse how I acted. I didn't deal with anything. I thought if I just kept moving forward, compartmentalized, it would all just go away." This is the most honesty I've ever heard from her. Her hand is still on mine. I want to say something, but I'm overwhelmed.
"I don't want to do that thing where we pretend the past didn't happen. This isn't how I thought we'd come back in each other's lives, but a part of me is glad that it's happened. I really missed you, Logan. I know everything is a mess, but I need you to know that." Her hand squeezes mine gently before moving back to the wheel.
I stare incredulously at her. There's so much I want to ask her, but I don't think my brain knows how to make words right now.
"So, that's what happened with the FBI. I don't think it would have been a good fit, anyway. When I left, I decided to leave that part of myself behind too. I didn't take any cases, just focused on school and friends. It's what I needed." Needed; past tense. So what does she need now?
"It's my turn now, right?" Reminding me of our ongoing landmine game. I swallow thickly but nod.
"Yeah, ask away." My voice is almost a whisper, my brain still trying to process everything she's told me.
"Ummm, have you been with a hooker?" She glances towards me with a smirk, letting me know she's not serious.
"Still no." My face splits in an answering smirk. "What about you?"
"No." She chuckles at the silliness. It was a needed break from the past that has taken over the car like a fog.
Veronica pulls into a rest stop. As she parks the car, she glances at me, her brow furrowed in thought. Her mouth opens to speak, but she closes it quickly.
"Carrie?" She finally chokes out. I'm not really sure what the question is. How did we meet, how serious are we? I wanted to avoid conversations about other women, but Carrie is part of my present. I owe it to Veronica to be honest. Still, a little clarification would be nice.
"What do you want to know?" I'm trying to be open, but my tone still comes out bitter. These types of conversations have never gone well for me. I steel myself for judgement.
"How did you two get together? I mean you're in the Navy and I assume that involves a lot of travel and she's a pop star." Veronica twists her hands together in her lap, radiating anxiety.
"We met at a party after my first deployment." I shrug, not really sure what else to say.
"You've been together a long time." It's not a question, not really. She's seen the articles. I hate the attention, but it comes with having a pop star for a girlfriend.
"We have." My gaze is intense as I watch Veronica fidget in her seat, looking everywhere but at me. What is she trying to ask?
"Do you love her?" Her voice comes out in a whisper so low I have to strain to hear her. When my brain processes the question, my mouth drops open slightly in surprise.
"It's not really." I pause. I don't want to minimize my relationship with Carrie, but right now I have so much anger at what she did to me, what we turned into, I'm not sure how to really explain it. I try anyway. "I thought I could, someday. I haven't said or felt those words in a very long time, but I thought I could." I leave off that she was the last person I said those words to. She doesn't need to know that right now.
"Things in the beginning were good, but you're right, I travel a lot and she's got her albums and the tours. It hasn't been good for a long while. She's spiraling and I don't know what to do for her anymore." Tears stream down my face as I make this confession. I don't love Carrie, not like I loved Veronica, like I love her still. But I do care about her and watching her self-destruct is one of the hardest things I've had to witness.
Veronica leans towards me, but I pull back. I can't take her touching me right now. Wedging myself closer to the door and looking out the side window, I take a shaky breath while wiping the tears from my face.
"We broke up. I want to help her, but I couldn't stay anymore. Our relationship became something toxic." It's out in the open. I can only hope that she doesn't ask for more details. Not only do I want to preserve some of Carrie's dignity, it's humiliating to have to explain the abuse and the fact that yet again, I've been cheated on. That's a fact that I'm still not ready to face. It's definitely not a topic I want to discuss with Veronica, opening old insecurities.
I risk a glance at her, but her expression is impassive. I don't know what reaction I was expecting, but none seems out of character for her.
I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety flow out of me during the exhale. There's a grief process to the end of a relationship, but right now I don't have the luxury of going through the stages. Besides, I feel like I've been mourning the end of my relationship with Carrie for a long time now.
"So rest stop?" I reach for the door handle, swinging my legs out and relishing the space. Sometimes being tall sucks. I stretch, arms raised above my head, trying to work the kinks out of my back. Riding in this car was a lot easier when I was 17.
As I finish my stretches, I risk a glance at Veronica. Her eyes are focused on my stomach where my shirt has ridden up during my stretching. I tug it back down and her mouth turns down in a slight frown. My smirk at catching her ogling me vanishes when her eyes meet mine. I haven't seen that look in a very long time, and it literally takes my breath away. Her eyes have darkened to a cobalt blue and her pupils dilated. The blood rushes from my head as I struggle to remember how to breathe.
It's gone in a flash, but I know I'm not imagining things. Whatever else is between us, whatever else we've lost, we still have this. Veronica Mars still finds me sexy. My smile is brighter than the sun as I lead the way into the rest stop.