Note: Midterms and finals at my school were handled by rescheduling the classes during exam time: One class would take all morning, then the various lunch periods (during which those teachers let you study), then a second exam all afternoon. In the absence of any evidence to the contrary I'm assuming that's the way Neptune High handles it as well.
We finish off Kanes and Abels in this one.
Rob Thomas created Veronica Mars. I did not.
X X X X X
After I left the hospital, I went down to Cho's Pizza and watched Hamilton for the rest of the night. At some point Sabrina called and complained about a car alarm that kept going off and mysteriously stopped just before the police got there. I told her it couldn't be Hamilton and asked her to write it down. From her state of mind, I placed the odds at about 50-50 that she'd remember to do it.
I understood why she was so upset, but if she took it out on me once more I was going to tell her to take her other $400 and stick it where her academic achievements didn't shine.
Logan picked me up early for school the next day. When we got to the parking lot, I said, "I want to thank you for what you did last night." And I spent the next five minutes doing it.
After I got done and he was almost out of breath, he said, "Are you planning to thank Wallace and Mac too?"
"Not like that. Wallace would faint and I'm fairly sure Mac's as hetero as I am."
"I, on the other hand, would pay good money . . ."
I interrupted, "I don't care how you finish that sentence. If you finish it, you're a dead man."
"About Madison and Beaver . . ."
"This weekend," I said. "I want to get this Sabrina Fuller investigation -- and finals -- over with before I start something new."
"This weekend?" he said. "I had other plans for this weekend . . ."
Laughing, I said, "I bet you do. Don't worry. We can fit those plans in too."
We went our separate ways.
Sabrina caught up with me right before lunch and gave me the license plate number. "This morning I only had study hall," she said. "No one bothered me there so I was able to put in a couple of hours studying for my French exam this afternoon. But tomorrow's the last day of exams and if it's not fixed tonight --"
"I understand," I said.
Lunch was spent with Logan and Wallace and Mac -- and Duncan and Meg, too. Since I was giving this whole "friend" thing a try, I told them that I'd told my father everything that happened.
Duncan said, "Okay," and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Meg asked.
"Brazil," he said. "Maybe Cuba. Anywhere Keith Mars can't track me down."
"Sit down, idiot," I said. "Dad's angry all right, but -- while I can't call you his favorite person on the planet right now -- you're nowhere near the top of his list of 'people I have to kill in Neptune.' At most he'll give you a stern talking to and remind you of the hazards of premarital sex."
To Mac and Wallace I said, "I can't thank you guys enough for last night."
"That's what BFFs do, isn't it?" Wallace asked. "I'm fairly sure that came in the instruction manual."
And Mac said, "I fully expect that you would do the same for me if I asked. We're friends, Veronica. That means we do things like that for each other."
"So if my computer breaks down . . ."
"I'll still charge you," Mac said. "Hey, friendship is friendship, but I gotta make money somehow." Then she smiled. "But I will rocket your name to the top of the list."
Logan laughed. "So, MacKenzie, I think I've finally found something I can beat you at."
"What?" Mac said. "Video checkers? Pong?"
"Madden 2005."
"Give me a half hour to practice and I bet I'll still kick your butt from here to Cleveland and back again."
Duncan said, looking first at Mac and then Logan, "You're going to kick his butt at Madden?" Mac allowed as she would. "I don't think I've ever beaten him at that. And you think you'll do it after a half hour?"
"I've seen him play other games," Mac said. "How hard can it be?" Then, after a second, "But if you're so sure I can't do it . . ."
"$200 on Logan," Duncan said immediately.
Logan said, "Can you cover that, MacKenzie?"
"That and more, Echolls. How much you want to put down?"
"Another $200."
Meg, out of loyalty, put $50 on Logan herself. Wallace refused to bet. Smart man. "$100 on Mac," I said. Logan looked hurt. "Hey, it's like she said. I gotta make money somehow."
I walked with Mac back to class after lunch. "I appreciate the faith, Veronica . . ."
"Faith nothing," I said. "I recognize a hustle when I see one."
She laughed. "Yeah, but it's so much fun watching him try."
"He's never going to beat you, is he?"
"Not in this lifetime."
X X X X X
After work, I ran the license plate -- only to find out it belonged to Vinnie Van Lowe's ex-wife. One complex scam so I could plant a bug in his office later and I knew who'd done it. It had been Jim Cho, Hamilton Cho's father, who was trying to get his son the Kane scholarship he needed to get into Oxford.
I almost called everyone together for a big confrontation, but I'd had enough of them the last few days. So instead I dropped Sabrina off, promised her I'd take care of it, and went back to Cho's pizza.
"Veronica," Hamilton said, "Couldn't stay away from the pizza, huh?"
"Hamilton," I said, "Get your father out here. We all need to talk." When Hamilton said his father was busy, I added, "Tell him I talk to either him or Jessica Fuller."
Jim Cho was out ten seconds later. I moved over to the side of the store and they followed me.
"I know you paid off Vinnie Van Lowe to harass Sabrina Fuller," I said. "This stops now."
"Dad?" Hamilton asked. "Why?"
"Because you got that accepted to Oxford," Mr. Cho said, "And there was no way you were going to go without help. Sabrina Fuller doesn't deserve that scholarship. You do."
Hamilton sighed. "Dad, I appreciate what you were willing to do for me. And you're right; I do deserve it more than she does." After a second. "Still, I wish you hadn't gone and gotten yourself in trouble to do it."
"Well, now's your chance to prove it," I said. "That's part of two of this discussion. Sabrina Fuller has already been affected by Vinnie Van Lowe's campaign of harassment, putting your son in first place for the Kane Scholarship. What exams do you have tomorrow, Hamilton?"
"Last two. Calculus and AP World History."
"Tank one of them. Level the playing field. I'm not saying flunk; I'm saying get yourself a B-. Put Sabrina back on top where she was when this all started." When Mr. Cho began to protest, I said, "It's either that or I tell Clemmons, the Kanes, and Jessica Fuller."
"I'll do it, Dad," Hamilton said. "It's only fair. And this way you're not likely to end up in jail."
"I'll want to see proof," I said. "The grades on both of tomorrow's exams. Once I see them, the chance of me ever telling anyone what happened goes away."
They agreed. I told Sabrina the harassment would end as of tonight -- and that if it didn't, I would report the harasser to her mother, the police, and 'all other interested parties.'
"We'll see, Veronica," she said. "If it plays out the way you say, then you'll get the rest of your $400 tomorrow after school."
It did; I did; and the next Monday, Hamilton Cho showed me the 85 he'd gotten on his calculus exam, putting Sabrina back in the pole position by percentage points. Also by that point, Logan had long since sullenly handed me the $100 I won betting on Mac. "Handed you your head again, didn't she?"
"Shut up."
Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself.
The weekend itself was far from uneventful.
X X X X X
"Hi, Mrs. Sinclair?" I said brightly. "This is Vanessa -- that's right, Vanessa Mencken. I was supposed to meet Madison somewhere and, silly me, I forgot, Could you -- oh, thanks. Sorry about that. I can be such a bimbo sometimes. Bye now!" I turned to look at Logan, Duncan and Meg, who were nearly doubled over in laughter. Wallace was spending some quality time with his mom and Mac was spending some "quality" time at a southern cooking festival.
Not that I have anything against southern cooking. But I'm fairly sure Mac is not looking forward to a day spent around fried chicken and lard-laced biscuits with people urging her to "have a taste."
"So, Machiavelli, where is she?"
"Spending the day on the beach."
"There's a whole lot of beach around here," Duncan said. "Are we just gonna walk up and down until we find the right one?"
"No; she told me more or less where. You know where you beat up my car, Logan?"
"Isn't there a statute of limitations on that?"
I shook my head. "Uh-uh. I get to hold it over your head for the rest of your life."
"Then I get to keep mentioning the penis-shaped bong."
Meg and Duncan laughed. "That was you, Veronica?" Meg asked. I allowed as it was.
"She made you look bad, man," Duncan said.
As we all piled into Logan's X-Terra to head out to the beach, Logan turned to Duncan and said, "So wait. I trash her car and I come out looking bad; she plants a bong in my locker and I come out looking bad. Do I ever get to be on top?"
After a second, Logan realized what he'd said. "Just forget I said anything," he muttered.
In between laughs, Duncan said, "To answer the question you thought you were asking: No. And you never will. The sooner you learn to accept that, the happier you'll be."
It only took us about five minutes once we got there to find Madison -- lying down and sunning herself in a white leather bikini.
I told Logan to go run Meg back to get something; Duncan and I stood there and waited, trying to look inconspicuous. Madison was so oblivious, though, I think Duncan and I could have been naked and firing off AK-47s and she wouldn't have noticed.
I moved so I was blocking her sun.
"Move it, idiot," she mumbled.
"It's funny, you know," I said. "I thought your kind burst into flames in direct sunlight."
She looked up at me. "Veronica Mars." She twisted around so that she could see Duncan, Logan, and Meg. "And I see you brought your entire gang. 'So, tasering me wasn't enough, now you want to beat me up?"
"Fair enough payback for writing the word 'slut' on my car at Shelly Pomroy's party," I said.
"God, Veronica, that was like a year and a half ago. Get over it already."
"God, Madison, that tasering was like a month and a half ago. Get over it already."
"So if you're not going to beat me up, why did you come over here?"
"Just wanted to ask you a couple of questions. And they're about Shelly Pomroy's party, amazingly enough."
"I'm not going to help you with anything," Madison said.
I leaned down and yanked her bikini top out from under her. "Oh, I think you are."
"You think I'm afraid of flashing all of you?"
Logan said, "No, but I think you're afraid of flashing the whole school." And Meg pulled her camera out and waved.
As Madison opened her mouth, I said, "You say I wouldn't, I say I would, you call me a nasty name, I come up with a devastatingly witty retort, and then you grumpily agree to answer my questions. So let's just cut through all of that, okay? Now, at Shelly Pomroy's party: Why did you drug me?"
"You are deranged. I didn't drug you."
"We've already moved past the point of 'I didn't do it,' Madison, and are now firmly into 'why did you do it?' Try to keep up. Someone handed me a drink at that party. That drink was laced with GHB. As a consequence, I ended up doing a lot of really stupid things. As near as I can tell, the only person who had a reason to make me look stupid and the opportunity is you. So again. Why."
"I didn't --"
I handed the bikini top to Duncan. "Duncan, take this to the car, please."
"Happy to," Duncan said, and started to walk away.
"I swear to God, Veronica, I didn't drug the drink I gave you. Dick gave me a Coke -- I was on Atkins so I handed it to you but gave you a trip to the dentist first. That is all I did."
At my puzzled look, Meg said, "That means she spit in the cup."
Yecch. I think I was getting it now. "Dick had two doses of GHB. He tried to give one to you but forgot you were on this no-carb kick. So you passed it on to me, guaranteeing me a night I'll never remember. I'd like to thank you for that."
"Why are you blaming me? Dick was the one who put the drugs in the Coke."
"And he meant it for you, princess," Logan said. "Remember that."
I gestured to Duncan to toss Madison back her bikini top. He did, throwing it a little high. Instinctively Madison reached up for it and Meg snapped a picture. "Just a little insurance," Meg said. "You understand."
Madison tied her top back on, packed up her stuff, and stormed off the beach.
"You know, Machiavelli," Logan said, "I think we made her mad."
Meanwhile, Meg was giggling. "That was so much fun!" she said. "I want to be like you when I grow up, Veronica. I want to be able to intimidate older people and rescue those who need to be rescued." The giggling stopped as she completed the sentence. There was something behind her words, but I wasn't entirely sure what.
"So," Duncan said. "The mystery of who drugged you has now been solved. Anything on the agenda for tomorrow?"
To Duncan and Meg's confusion, I said "The mystery of why Beaver Casablancas said he threw up on Carrie Bishop's shoes . . ."