Yeah yeah, it's been a while i know. I'm debating whether to carry on this fic, or whether to write more oneshots. I'm not sure i really like the way this one is going. Anyway, thanks for the comments--if you want me to keep writing this tell me. If you have a different idea for what i should write, give a comment to explain why.

Oh, and i like to hear the good and bad points. An honest critic, if you please. 'This is rele good!' doesn't exactly inspire me lol. Sorry.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not even the clothes on my back. :)

Chapter 3

Nobody's POV

The girl sighed as she watched him drop his last suitcase, then drew in her breath as she saw the framed photo that he had been staring at. She stopped walking, to afraid to face him. She wasn't the same girl that he'd wanted to get with. She wasn't the same girl that had hurt him more than she ever realised she could. She was just a girl, too afraid to face what she had walked away from.

So she walked away again.

Dana's POV

I knew I was going to be leaving about a month before my first semester ended. I figured it would be easier not to tell Zoey or Nicole what was going on, but there was one person I had to tell.

I was running at the track listening to my walkman when it hit me. When I left, I would be free. No more hiding my feelings for Logan, no more flashes of pain whenever he said "Wanna make out?" in that stupid nonchalant way. Then again…no Logan. No more secret smirks when he thought he'd got one over on me, no warm feeling when he passed me the ball and we helped beat the crap out of every team that faced us. We were like this unbreakable partnership on the court… but off it we were like rivals.

As I thought about all the memories, my heart began to beat faster and faster. Finally I knew I had to stop, but I couldn't. After another lap or so I realised that I was running away from the truth- that I cared about Logan. With that realisation I passed out.

When I came to he was holding my hand, telling me to wake up and shouting into his cell phone. Logan had come for me…my Logan had come. He saw I was awake, and he actually smiled. I don't know… I think that was when I realised how much I really loved him.

As I came to, he said to me "Probably the stress, D. Don't worry, in a few weeks you'll be away from California, tanning by a pool and chilling with a diet coke"

My head was killing me. I muttered "Do they sell coke in France?".

He laughed. "Of course. Why, you going there for the summer?"

I laughed, then stopped as it sunk in. I whispered "I'm moving there Logan."

Then next thing I knew, he was the one running away.

After that he avoided me. He wouldn't tell anyone why, let alone me… until a few months ago, that is. The next time we were in contact was through an email. He was the first to write to me, but sometimes I wish he hadn't bothered. That first email was full of news about the girls he'd been with etc… and it was as if he was deliberately telling me details to hurt me, even though he didn't know my secret.

Now I think about it, maybe he did care. Maybe that's why he's so different now. Maybe I really did hurt him in France. Maybe…just maybe that's why I was too afraid to face him my first day back. In fact, that's probably why things are how they are now, considering we've spoken twice since.

Logan's POV

She thinks it's all going to be OK. Just one "Hello", and I'm supposed to fall at her feet. Admittedly, those two syllables did have quite an effect on me. Then I remembered where those lips were, and what they were doing the last time I saw her.

She arranged that we should meet at the Eiffel Tower 'to discuss the future'.

I got there knowing that there was a possibility she would tell me I was wrong, and that she didn't love me. I asked her, you know. Gave her a red rose, romanced her in the most beautiful city in the world. Unfortunately, I guess romance isn't that magical to girls like Dana unless you happen to be French.

I asked her to answer my question. Did she love me or him? She told me she loved us both in different ways, and she was only herself trying to figure it all out. The out of the blue she called and asked me to meet her. When I got there, she was in his arms, kissing him. Pierre, the French guy. That was all the answer I needed, and enough to make me walk away. She saw me go, and tried to stop me. She tried to call me and email me and even write to me, but I couldn't bring myself to reply. My heart was broken, and yet I still loved her with all of the little pieces. I guess it's ironic- the person you love the most is the person who can hurt you the most. I've taken a lot of crap from my dad, and even from Chase and Michael over the years… they can't hurt me. She had the power to break me, and she abused that power. For that I couldn't forgive her…but I couldn't forget her either. All I wanted was for her never to have left, and for her to never have met Pierre, and for her to have meant it when she said those three words.

I Love You.

Je t'aime.

Whatever.

I'm cynical… but I think I have a right to be.