Archive: Anywhere, just ask me first.
Disclaimer: Veronica, Duncan, Lilly, Weevil, Logan, Grandma Letti, and all other characters mentioned here are the property of UPN, Rob Thomas, Stu Segall, and Silver Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended, so please don't sue, because I have no money.
It's been three days since Weevil was officially kicked out of the PCHers and he hasn't been in school since. Veronica knows that he's waiting for the bruises and cuts to fade before he shows his face, and she gets that - don't let them catch you when you're down. Still, she almost wants to drive out to his house one day after school, just to see for herself that he's okay. But that would go against all of the unspoken rules that govern their friendship. It would hurt his pride, put a dent in her 'I-don't-give-a-fuck' attitude. So she hangs with Wallace and pretends that she's not scanning the hallways for sightings of his familiar bald head.
Two days later, he re-emerges. She's at the lunch table with Jackie, bitching about their pop quiz in trig, when all of the sudden she looks up and there he is.
She blinks, barely recognizing him at first - his head is no longer bald, his chin and upper lip are smooth, and he's wearing a black denim jacket instead of his usual leather. Veronica likes it - it makes him look younger; more vulnerable. He's squinting against the bright afternoon sun and, she realizes, looking for a place to sit.
It's endearing in that it makes her almost feel sorry for him, but she quickly pushes that to the back of her mind, because she knows that he's never felt sorry for her, and she would have hated it if he had. So she stands, gets his attention, and waves him over. He hesitates, considering, but ultimately makes his way over to the two of them. Jackie glances to Weevil then back at Veronica and raises an eyebrow with that infuriating worldly smile of hers, but thankfully makes no further comment.
In front of the table, he pauses again, and he and Veronica eye each other until finally Jackie blurts out:
"Move it or lose it."
So with a sheepish grin, Weevil sits down, next to the teen girl detective and across from the New York native with the chip on her shoulder. Despite their collective outcast status, he feels like all eyes are on them - from Dante, Hector, and the PCHers to Echolls, Casablancas, and the '09ers. It unnerves him - he's always been able to dispel the gossipmongers with a simple glare, but he's lost all of his credibility along with his jacket and his bike, and scare tactics just look pathetic now. Involuntarily, he starts fidgeting.
Under the table, Veronica's hand slides over to his thigh, and she gives it a squeeze. Nothing sexual, just letting him know that she's there for him.
Weevil remains staring impassively at his food, but his left hand moves discreetly to cover hers. If he's got Veronica Mars watching his back, maybe he can make it through this after all.