Author's Notes: Thank you so much to those who read and reviewed, or just read;) I appreciate it very much.
Summer In Hell
by Kristen Elizabeth
"Mail call." Keith Mars entered the apartment with a cup of coffee in one hand and a short stack of letters in the other. "Mars, Veronica. Anybody by that name here?"
Veronica looked up from her cereal only long enough to give her father a look. "Must we do this every morning?"
"In forty years, when I'm gone, you'll be looking back at these moments with a tear in your eye."
"Oh, will I still be laughing at you, even then?"
He plopped two letters down beside her bowl. "One of these looks suspiciously like it might be from the newspaper."
It was. I got it. In spite of my name, or maybe because of it, I beat out the other candidates and got the summer internship. Okay…why I am not bouncing off the walls?
"I guess that article I submitted wasn't complete crap after all," Veronica said, setting the acceptance letter aside.
"I'm proud of you, kiddo." Her father bent down to kiss her forehead. "No one deserves it more."
She waited until her father had disappeared into his bedroom before she picked up the second envelope. No return address. Not even her own address. Just her name, neatly printed across the front. Exercising extreme caution, Veronica opened it.
Wow. This is just…wow. I'm cordially invited to say goodbye to Logan before he departs for a summer abroad by attending a fabulous party at the Echolls estate thrown in his honor.
This is the worst mail call ever.
Two hours later, Wallace Fennell sat on Veronica's bed, reading the invitation out loud. "Damn," he said, shaking his head. "Wish I was spending the summer in France."
Well, Wallace, apparently all you'd have to do is occasionally lock lips with Logan to get an invite.
"Are you going? To the party?"
Oh, too many memories. 09er parties and Veronica Mars do not mix. Now, do I want to go? That's another story entirely.
"I don't think so," she replied. "Not my scene."
"C'mon. A crazy party at a genuine mansion…your last chance to say farewell to a guy you're crushing on? How can that not be your scene?"
"I am not crushing on Logan."
Did my nose just grow a bit, or am I imagining things?
Wallace wasn't buying it. "You know, my invite probably got lost in the mail. Can I be your date?" When she threw him a glare, he held up his hands in defense. "Since you're not currently crushing on anyone, it's no big deal, right?"
"I don't know," Veronica pulled at a loose thread on her comforter, stalling for time. "Dad might need me to…"
"To what?" he cut her off. "Think of an excuse, quick!"
She sighed, exasperated. "Why do you want me to go so badly?"
"Who said this was about you? Kara Stevens is probably gonna be there. And that girl is fine." He grinned. "Help a brother out? Get me into Echolls' party?"
So that's how I ended up standing here at Logan's front door with Wallace at my side. Sure, it feels good to finally do a favor for my friend instead of the other way around, but after a week of avoiding Logan's calls, his house is the last place on earth I want to be.
"Are there always so many cameras hanging around out front his place?" Wallace asked. He was fidgeting ever so slightly with excitement.
"Every time I've been here," Veronica mused. "I don't think he even notices them anymore."
"For someone who's not crushing, you sure do know a lot about the guy."
The door opened before she could reply and they were ushered inside by an obviously intoxicated jock Veronica vaguely recognized. He gave them a once-over, swigged back the remains of his beer, belched, and headed off, presumably for another round.
So…I'm getting the feeling that I was the only one to get a written invitation to this fête. Word of mouth travels fast. Logan going away for the summer is just an excuse to get plastered and puke in a famous actor's pool. Like the 09er's need an excuse.
"There's Kara," Wallace pointed out as they weaved their way through the crowd towards the patio. The girl in question was standing by the bar, pouring herself a drink. "What should I do, Veronica?"
"Hey, I'm just your ticket in. I'm hardly one to give relationship advice." Wallace's pleading look softened Veronica. "Well, being a girl myself, I can say with some authority that we generally like a guy who can make interesting conversation. Since that seems to be lacking in this room, you might start there."
"Got it. Talk to her." Wallace took a breath and smoothed back his hair. "Will you be okay?"
"Forget who you're talking to here?" Veronica forced herself to smile with some semblance of assurance. "Go. Make friends."
I'll be in the corner drinking nothing but cans of soda that I've opened myself.
So, you might not know it from just looking at anyone in Logan's family, but they actually have a fairly decent library. Okay, it was probably stocked by an interior designer, and if the dust on the books is any indication, it probably hasn't been used ever, but I did find a first edition copy of Stephen King's "It" which has kept me occupied for the past hour. Gotta love the King.
Why am I hiding out in Logan's library, you ask? Can you think of a reason why I wouldn't? It's quiet, it's deserted, and it's unlikely he would look for me in this of all places.
"What are you doing in here?"
Of course, I have been known to be wrong. Once or twice.
Veronica closed up her book and stood. Turning, she saw Logan entering the library. He didn't seem drunk, or even mildly buzzed. In fact, if anything, he looked too good. She found herself unable to speak for a moment.
"It," she finally said, holding up the book. "I'm trying to get over my clown fear."
He moved closer, until she could smell the woody scent of his cologne. "You know, they have mimes in France. Mimes are a lot like clowns."
"You can't still want me to go."
"Ronnie." Logan chuckled softly. "Why do you think I invited you here tonight?"
She lifted her shoulders. "You figured out my secret love of beer pumped from a keg?"
"You don't drink." He reached out and cupped her face in his warm palm.
"And neither are you tonight," Veronica noted. Her eyelids fluttered at his touch. "Designated driver at your own party?"
Logan pulled back. "I wanted to talk to you with a clear head." He smirked. "Not that I ever have a really clear head when I'm talking to you."
Sure, he would choose right now to whip out the romantic one-liners. Stay strong, Veronica. You can not run off to Cannes with him. Even though your brand new bikini deserves to make its debut on the French Riviera, you will not toss aside your responsibilities just for a summer of sheer Parisian bliss with a guy who makes your knees melt with a single kiss.
He reached for her again, drawing her into the strong circle of his arms. Pressed against him, she could feel his heart beat next to hers. Logan's lips sought out hers.
There go the knees. Traitors.
Returning his kiss, Veronica let herself sink back onto the plush loveseat. She clung to him, winding her arms around his neck as he loomed over her. Somehow, he maneuvered his knee between hers, but she wasn't aware of it until his leg bumped the apex of her thighs. She froze with her fingers tangled in his hair.
For a year and a half, I haven't had a single memory of that night. Why now? Why, when I'm in an embrace I trust and want, do I have to start remembering? There was one guy…maybe two. He…or they…were drinking something other than beer. I could smell it on their breath. One of them tried to kiss me and I could taste it.
"Scotch," Veronica said, turning her head away from Logan's.
"What?" He frowned and combed her hair back from her forehead. "You want a drink now?"
"You said you weren't drinking tonight," she panted, half out of breath from the kissing, half from the sudden onslaught of memories.
Logan brushed his lips across her cheek. "I only had one, earlier."
"Scotch," she repeated. "You drink Scotch."
"When it's available, sure." He pushed himself up until he could see her better. "What's with the interrogation?"
I have to get out of here. Right now.
Veronica swallowed and slid out from underneath him. Standing up again, she straightened her rumpled top. "I need to get home. That internship…I got it. And it starts tomorrow, so I should get a good night's sleep."
Planting his own feet back on the floor, Logan leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "You're saying no to France, aren't you?"
"I already said no," she whispered. "You just weren't listening to me." Silence hung between them for a moment. "I guess it's not a word you're used to."
He looked up at her, his eyes dark. "No. It's not."
Veronica reached for her bag with shaking hands. "Have a great time, Logan. Don't break too many pretty French hearts."
"That's it?" Logan stood, and she was suddenly too aware of how much height he had on her. "That's how we're going to end this?"
"This…whatever it was…it was doomed from the start. I'm Veronica Mars, remember? The pariah of Neptune High. Your sworn enemy." She smiled with much bitterness. "Enemies don't end up happily ever after together."
"Could you just, for once, cut the snarky bullshit?" he snapped. "Tell me why. Give me one good reason why you think this can't work."
Where do I start? The fact that you used to have crazy monkey sex with my dead best friend? The fact that you made my life hell for months? The fact that there's a frightening possibility that you could have been one of my rapists?
The fact that when I'm with you, I can forget about all of it?
"Duncan," she said in a soft voice.
Logan blinked. "You still love him. Don't you?"
They say that honesty is the best policy. They've obviously never fallen for the absolute wrong guy. They've obviously never had to tell a lie.
Veronica nodded.
"See you in the fall, Ronnie," he said after a long moment had passed.
I was being dismissed. And so I left.
When she reentered the living room, Veronica saw Wallace dancing with Kara. He was laughing, having a great time.
Good for him. He deserves to be happy. His hookup means that I can cry the whole way home without anyone ever knowing.
'Cause even marshmallows can get burned.
To Be Continued
