Chapter Text
“You’ve reached Logan Echolls with today’s inspirational message. ‘Normality is a paved road: it’s comfortable to walk, but no flowers grow on it.’ Vincent Van Gogh”
VERONICA: May 2005
“Hey, Veronica.” Leo’s voice is gentle and he’s clearly pained to be bothering her so late at night—or is it early in the morning? She’s not sure anymore.
“I’m looking for Logan Echolls. Saw his SUV parked out front. I know he’s here. Uh, this would be better for everyone if…”
Veronica sighs and opens the apartment door wider, revealing Logan, bruised and battered, laying on her couch. Leo drops his head guiltily, and then glances up at her. It’s obvious when he catches sight of the scrape on her cheek and he reaches out, tenderly placing his hand on her neck to inspect it more closely. She can practically feel the compassion oozing out of him and she knows as hard as this is, he’s only doing his job. She can’t hold that against him, as much as she might want to. He caresses her neck and makes his way over to the couch, reciting the standard Miranda rights. Sagging against the doorframe, she can’t watch, utterly bone-weary and drained.
Leo doesn’t handcuff Logan; she’s thankful for that small mercy, at least. It’s not like he’s a flight risk in his current condition. Leo leads him by the shoulder across the small space and she can’t believe Logan has to endure more on this hellish night.
“Leo, please.” Her voice sounds rusty but her eyes are clear as Leo halts in the doorway. She places her hand on Logan’s forearm and he finally meets her stare. He gulps and she can tell he’s fighting back tears.
“You’re going to get through this.” She pushes up on her tiptoes and brushes her lips gently across his, briefly tasting blood. She gazes at him firmly, willing him to believe her, to hold onto this thread of hope—even if nothing in this moment is okay.
Logan nods once, squaring his shoulders, and follows Leo out.
The door doesn’t slam shut behind them. It closes softly, with a tiny snick. It doesn’t echo or reverberate—but it may as well have with the finality it conveys.
Veronica’s legs give out under her and she slumps to the floor, leaning against the door and feeling the cool steel beneath her fingertips. She takes deep, gasping breaths and tries to calm her racing heart. She wants to cry but she’s empty, barren inside.
She doesn’t know how long she sits there, staring at the stripes on her dad’s armchair. She startles violently, bumping the back of her head on the door, when Backup licks her scraped cheek. She didn’t even hear him approach.
“Hey, boy.” She wraps her arms around his neck and buries her fingers in his ruff, grateful for his presence anchoring her here. She lets him lick her face, which she usually finds disgusting, because it’s better than being alone.
Using his collar, Veronica levers herself to her feet and stumbles across the kitchen, down the hallway to her room. Normally she wouldn’t let the dog onto her bed—especially after his toenails popped her waterbed—but nothing about tonight is normal. When he curls up on top of her feet, she just pats his head and lays down, staring at the ceiling and doing her best to think about nothing as she watches the room gradually lighten with the sunrise.
Hours later—she’s not sure if she slept or not—Backup nudges her and she rolls out of bed, heading to the front door and clipping his leash onto his collar.
It’s time to go, Veronica, whether you’re ready or not. There are dogs to be walked, injured fathers to visit, and new crimes to be solved. Just another normal day in Neptune.
LOGAN: Summer 2005
Unfortunately, a normal day in Neptune is just another shitty day in the life of Logan Echolls. Over the summer he tries to be everything she says she needs. Good, nice, normal. But their relationship was forged in darkness, he was born into the black, and he doesn’t know how to be anything else. Any innate goodness he saves for her, gives to her, but it’s not enough. Being good to her, loving her, doesn’t mean he’s not hurting her...that he’s not scaring her with his choices.
The PCHers shoot out his car window, while she’s in the fucking car with him, and he knows he has to do something. Involving Veronica is where he draws the line. He feels helpless when all he wants to do is protect her. Somebody has to do it. The only reliable parent in their lives is Keith Mars, and the man is never here. He plans an overnight surf trip to Mexico with Dick, and tells himself he’s doing the right thing.
Once they check into their hotel, Logan convinces Dick to go to the cantina where Sean bought his drugs last year. He waits until his predictable best friend is a couple of shots (and several drinks) in, then he calmly walks a few stools down to talk to the bartender. She’s young and pretty, but her demeanor is bored and her eyes are hard. In carefully practiced Spanish, he asks where he can buy a gun. She searches Logan’s sober gaze, her head tilts and her face softens.
She regards Dick. “You kill your friend?” Her slight accent is thick with understanding.
Following her gaze, he sees Dick clumsily trying to climb on top of the bar, yelling “COYOTE UGLY, BABY!” while two short, stocky waiters attempt to pull him down. Turning back to the bartender he replies, “Sadly, no. He’s my ride.”
She nods once. “I still help.”
The bartender makes a call and just like magic Logan gets a gun, bullets, and a silencer in the back alley; all while Dick is singing karaoke inside. Logan is almost sad to miss Dick’s performance. He’s sung karaoke in front of Logan before, of course, but never at a bar with no sound system, no microphone, and no karaoke machine.
The next day Logan sweats, and Dick sleeps, through Customs, and...that’s it. He has a weapon and a yard big enough to set up target drills. Every night he holds the gun steady and aims for center mass. And it feels good. It feels like he actually has some fucking control for once in his life… until Veronica finds the gun in his glove compartment.
She yells, she cries, she tells him he’s going to get himself killed. Logan can’t seem to make her understand he did this for her, for them. To protect them. He doesn’t realize until it’s too late, that embracing the dark just makes him another person she’s more apt to lose. So she dumps him, and then runs off to live out her teenage dream fantasy with Duncan fucking Kane.
TWO MONTHS LATER
Logan worries a permission slip between his fingers as he sits outside of Principal Clemmons’ office. Ms. Dumass—the bright and shiny new Journalism teacher—is taking students to tour Shark Field tomorrow, and apparently the school cares more about parental approval than he does.
Bored, bouncing his right foot up and down he glances around for something to entertain him and spies the school’s receptionist taking furtive peeks at him over her file folders. Excellent.
"Good morning, Ms. Arnold! Don’t you look radiant today?” He gives her his most practiced, charismatic smile.
“Good Morning, Mr. Echolls.” She glances away quickly, flustered, and he can tell she’s trying to pretend she’s not affected by his charm.
“How is my favorite girl on this lovely morning?”
“I’m fine, young man.” She titters.
Logan smirks. Between Ms. Arnold and Veronica Mars, his entire record for Spring semester of Junior year was spotless. Not one tardy mark.
The crackle of Ms. Arnold’s intercom interrupts his fun. “I’m ready for Mr. Echolls now.”
“You go right in, dear.”
Giving her a cheeky finger wave and a wink, he heads into Mr. Clemmons’ office.
“Sir.” He seats himself and leaves the door open. This probably isn’t going to go well and it wouldn’t hurt to garner a little sympathy from his most helpful office worker.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Echolls?”
“Well, sir, I’d love to join my fellow classmates on this year’s Journalism field trip, but unfortunately, I don’t have any parents to sign my permission slip. My mother died last year.”
“Isn’t your father out on bail?”
Logan’s mouth drops open and he has to shake his head to clear it.
“ I don’t know if you’ve heard, sir, but my father murdered my ex-girlfriend and tried to murder my… other ex-girlfriend.” Logan tries his best to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “We don’t see much of each other,” he adds helpfully.
“Yes, yes.” Mr. Clemmons waves his hand in the air as if this information is immaterial.
Logan blinks at the dismissive tone as Clemmons continues. “I suppose we can make an exception for you just this once, Mr. Echolls.”
“Thank you, sir. Your leadership is truly inspired.”
On his way out, Logan detours back to Ms. Arnold’s desk, hoping for a sympathy-inspired hall pass, but she’s on the phone, soothing some worried parent’s ruffled feathers.
“Of course,” She says as he leaves. “I just thought you should know. You’re one of Neptune’s most dedicated parents.”
Imagine that. A parent in Neptune who cares. Must be nice.
The morning of the field trip Logan eyes the school bus suspiciously. He’s never been on one, and he thinks he’s better for it. But now, here he is walking towards the yellow monstrosity. As if it could ever hope to match his baby’s beauty. He thinks longingly of the Xterra.
He doesn’t even know why he’s going on this trip. It’s not required, and if he wants to get out of class he can ditch. But his whole Journalism class is going. And Veronica likes baseball. Not that he’s going on the trip to see her. But she does like baseball. So, she’ll probably be on the trip, right? And the Donut hates baseball, so he’ll probably stay home. Not that it matters.
Logan is almost at the bus door when he spots Veronica and Duncan greeting each other, completely oblivious to his presence. He’s never liked being ignored.
Bypassing the door, he drapes himself insolently against the side of the yellow mammoth.
“Ah, young love.”
Duncan and Veronica grasp hands as they approach and Logan’s stomach rolls. Duncan volleys a thinly veiled search for why Logan is attending this school sponsored form of torture. Obviously Duncan and Veronica are attending, and Logan has suddenly lost all interest. Logan assures him he’s not accompanying them. There’s an awkward moment and Veronica does what she does best— runs.
“Let's just get on the bus.” She avoids looking at Logan, but her voice… there is something about her voice that makes his heart twist.
“Hey, wait.” He positions himself in front of her. All he wants is some sign that they mattered. That he matters. That’s it. But when her eyes meet his, the words tumble out of their volition. “I’m gonna miss you.”
Fuck.
No one responds. Duncan and Veronica hurry past him, and climb on the bus.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s gonna miss her? Did he actually just say that? What the hell?
That’s it. He can’t do this anymore. He needs to scrub Veronica Mars from his brain. Dick and Beaver’s nubile new stepmommy made it abundantly clear she’s always available to meet any needs that might...arise. He’s going to take her up on that offer. Now.
If anyone asks, he’ll tell them he was too sick to attend the field trip. It wouldn’t be a lie. He’s well and truly nauseous now.
VERONICA
He’s gonna miss her? What the hell, Logan? Is he trying to make her feel guilty? As he walks away from the bus, though, without his usual cocky bravado, and she does experience a pang of...something. Better not dwell on it too long.
A student she doesn’t know brushes past her, and she turns to Duncan in the bus aisle behind her and grabs his hand, entwining their fingers and plastering an extra-perky smile on her face. She tugs him down into a blue vinyl seat and tries to keep her mind focused on Duncan. Her boyfriend. The boy she definitely wants to be with. She’s not letting her mind drift back to this summer with Logan...not at all.
She runs her thumb over Duncan’s knuckles and tries not to think about Logan’s hands. They are so freaking big. His whole body dwarfs hers but it’s not intimidating; she felt absolutely cherished when he held her hand or put his arm around her. She loved the way he caressed her face. How a simple brush of her cheekbone could make her shiver.
Stop it, Veronica. You’re with Duncan now. Nice, sweet Duncan. Normal girls are supposed to want nice guys. Sure, there’s no fireworks when he holds your hand, but no one gets burned this way.
Fireworks…. She had definitely felt fireworks in the back of Logan’s Xterra this summer. With just one kiss, her insides would turn to jelly and that spot between her thighs would throb. Part of her regretted not pushing harder and convincing Logan to sleep with her this summer. She had definitely wanted to, but he had always been the one to put on the breaks. Not because he didn’t want her—the evidence of that was always perfectly apparent, especially if she was straddling his lap the way she liked.
No, whenever she made a grab for his zipper, he never made her feel bad about it, just always said he wasn’t ready. Those months were probably the longest he had gone without sex in years and while she always huffed at him and rolled her eyes, she secretly thought it was sweet he was being so careful with her. And then he would distract her with his lips on her neck or his fingers stroking her flesh and she forgot to protest. Logan could make her forget her damn name.
Just like she had forgotten she isn’t supposed to be thinking about him as she sits silently next to Duncan, holding his hand. Duncan, who doesn’t burn down pools. Duncan, who doesn’t own a gun. Duncan, who doesn’t throw lamps. Duncan, who doesn’t break hearts.
Because for all that Logan is acting like he was the one who was wronged and broken-hearted (‘ I’m gonna miss you’?) over the end of their fleeting relationship, he had betrayed her first. She couldn’t handle losing him in the war he had declared against the PCHers. Not after Lilly. Not after her mom. Not after all those weeks she spent visiting her dad in the hospital.
No, she definitely needs a normal, dependable boyfriend. One who won’t provoke a biker gang and doesn’t get them shot at. One who won’t get caught in the crosshairs of the class war that has come to Neptune. Maybe she used to be an adrenaline junky, the kind of girl who confronted PCHers, corrupt DEA agents, drug dealers, and murderers. But that was old Veronica. Vengeful Veronica. She’s different now.
Besides, what did that ever get her? Sure, she solved Lilly’s murder, but at what cost? She just wants everything to go back to how it was before. She wants to be that innocent girl again, only worried about what dress to wear to Homecoming and what color to paint her nails.
Focusing on the black polish currently adorning her nails, she wonders what Lilly would say about it. ‘Going goth, Veronica Mars? Embracing your darker side?’ At least it’s not pink. Lilly always told her she was too pastel, anyway.
Smiling to herself, she glances around the bus and catches sight of the new girl. With her pale skin and black hair she could be a little bit goth but nothing about the rest of her perky, pink outfit is, so it’s obviously her natural coloring. Maybe Dick was talking to her earlier and she can get the scoop out of him?
She glances in the seat behind her to ask him about the new girl but Beaver is sitting there alone, gazing pensively out the window as the scenery rolls past.
Veronica spots Dick sitting across the aisle a few rows behind the girl she doesn’t know. She gives Duncan’s hand a squeeze.
“Be right back,” she tells him with a small smile, crossing to go sit behind the new student.
“Hi. I’m Veronica,” she says, tapping her on the shoulder.
“Oh, hi!” the girl gushes. “I’m Gia, Gia Goodman? I’m new to Neptune this year?” The girl has an interesting habit of raising her voice at the end of her sentences so it sounds like she’s asking a question. Veronica firmly doesn’t let herself think about what Lilly would say if she were here. It would certainly not be kind. And part of making a fresh start this year is being friendlier. That’s normal, right?
“Well, welcome.” Veronica tries to put a nice smile on her face and listen as the girl starts to drone on and on about how Neptune is different from her old school and gives her an in-depth list of the pros and cons of each.
“The kids at my old school were really snobby but here everyone seems more real, ya know?” Gia says. Veronica nods and that seems to be all the encouragement she needs to keep prattling.
She lets her mind drift until Dick’s braying laugh brings her back to the present. What is he up to? Bored and curious, she leans back in her seat to eavesdrop on his conversation.
“Hey, Betina.” His voice is low and seductive. Ick. “You got plans tonight?”
Veronica glances surreptitiously over her shoulder. She doesn’t know Betina, the leggy brunette flirting with Dick. She’s wearing a miniscule flouncy skirt and a tight, rhinestone-encrusted top, revealing a massive expanse of cleavage. Just the thing to capture Dick’s attention. She seems to be enamored with him, so Veronica suspects she and Betina aren’t destined to be bosom buddies.
Betina giggles. “No, I’m free, if you’re not busy…”
“Yeah, I could come over,” Dick agrees eagerly.
“Or we could go out?” Betina offers, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and smacking her gum.
Dick’s tone turns whiny. “Oh, Bets, you know the Dickmeister does his best work at home.”
Veronica gags on Dick’s words—internally—and nods encouragingly at Gia, who’s still talking to her and doesn’t seem to notice her lack of enthusiasm about whatever the subject is now. Betina giggles again and tells Dick exactly what she’d like to do to certain parts of his anatomy tonight. So gross. What could this girl possibly see in Dick?
“No, let’s go out,” Betina says, “and I promise I’ll make it worth your while…” her voice trails off.
“Uh, I don’t know,” Dick’s voice has turned hesitant. “I just remembered my dad is making us do something with my new step-mom. But I can come over later.”
“Or I can go to your house. I could just ride with you when we get back to school. I don’t care.”
Betina might say she doesn’t care, but with the way she’s pushing this, Veronica bets she does care. A whole lot.
“You know what, we can talk about it later.” Dick is dismissive but when Veronica glances back again at them, Betina nods her head vigorously. Then Betina’s head disappears and there’s the distinct sound of a zipper being lowered.
Oh, gross. Trying not to throw up in her mouth, Veronica wishes fleetingly that Logan was there to make fun of Dick with her. Well, the plus side is she now has some information to file away about Dick and Betina for later. You never know when a little blackmail could come in handy. And it’s a solid bet they’d both be willing to sell out pretty easily.
She turns back to Gia, cutting her off mid-sentence. Cross ‘be friendly’ off my list of resolutions. It’s not worth it. “Well, it’s been...informative...chatting with you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
She slips back into the seat she was sharing with Duncan, only to find he’s fallen asleep with his head resting on the window. She sighs, and tries to convince herself again that nice and normal is what she wants. Although she’s pretty sure Logan would have found a myriad of interesting and entertaining ways to keep them both occupied if he were here.
It’s time to get over him, Veronica. Move on. You’re with Duncan now. This is what you’ve always wanted.
“Hey.” Dick interrupts her scintillating conversation with Duncan, putting an arm around each of their shoulders. “We’re not taking that stank-ass bus back to Neptune. My dad’s sending a limo.” He turns to Duncan. “Would you and your girlfriend, who’s quick wit I find enchanting, like to take a trip back in style?”
He gives her a smarmy look and she shoots him a death glare. She doesn’t remember the bus smelling particularly bad; more like Dick doesn’t want any more pressure from his booty buddy to bring their relationship out in the open.
Her glare morphs into a smirks as she delights once again in knowing this little secret. She might not be working for her dad anymore but collecting information never hurt anyone.
Duncan agrees eagerly with Dick’s plan but once Veronica catches sight of Meg declining Dick’s offer, a limo ride with the most privileged 09ers no longer sounds fun. She explains she needs to try to talk to Meg one last time and even if Duncan doesn’t understand, he doesn’t fight it or try to talk her out of it.
There, Veronica. Isn’t it nice having a boyfriend who doesn’t always disagree with you? Life is easier this way.
She doesn’t let herself think about how disagreements with Logan always kind of turned her on.
Duncan’s probably right, she doesn’t owe Meg anything. But she still remembers the time Meg loaned her a spare cheerleading outfit when her clothes were in the toilet, and how Meg saved her from Madison’s trip to the dentist. Not to mention it was nice having a girlfriend again. Wallace’s idea of ‘getting ready for a dance’ is taking a shower. When you can count your true friends on one hand, you can’t let them go easily. Part of her knows, deep down, Meg’s worth fifty Duncans. She hates he’s come between them and squares her shoulders, determined to fix things between herself and Meg once and for all.
“Go invite the new girl, Dick. I have someone I need to talk to on the bus.”
She tries to move past them, but Dick’s still talking. “Already thought of that, Ronnie, ‘cause she’s hot. But she’s riding home with her dad.”
Dick gestures at Woody Goodman, owner of the Sharks, standing next to his daughter.
“Thanks for that extra-special glimpse into her life, Dick.” Turning to Duncan, she says, “I’ll see you later,” and presses a quick kiss on his cheek. Before she can lose her resolve, she makes her way over to the small group of kids getting on the bus.
After her talk with Meg took a turn for the worse, she had almost thought missing the bus at the gas station and catching a ride with Weevil was part of her penance. Now as she stands at the top of a cliff watching the school bus—that she was on a few minutes ago—sink further into the swirling Pacific, she’s not sure.
“Lilly. She saved me,” she mumbles into Duncan’s chest as he crushes her to him. But he doesn’t hear her. Or doesn’t acknowledge her if he does. He’s too busy cradling her face and covering it with kisses.
“Oh my God, Veronica,” he repeats, looking down at her as if he doesn’t believe she’s real and clutching her tightly. His fingers dig into her shoulders. “I thought you were dead. I thought you were on the bus, I thought you went over—I thought you were dead.”
She pats him clumsily, not able to take her eyes off the churning waters below. You should have been on that bus. You should be dead. You would be if it weren’t for—
“Meg!” she gasps. “Meg was on the bus! Duncan, we have to—”
“They’ve already called 911, Veronica.” He leads her away from the edge of the cliff, still unwilling to let her go. “There’s nothing more we can do.”
Pulling her face away from his chest she sees the majority of onlookers on their cellphones. She starts frantically searching in her purse. “I need to find my phone, I’ve gotta call my dad,” she mutters as she paws through her belongings.
She sighs in relief when her shaking fingers close around the rectangular shape of her cell phone and quickly hits the ‘2’ button.
“Mars Investigations.” Keith’s voice comes over the line, strong and steady. “This is Mars, speaking.”
“Daddy,” is all she can manage to say before she starts crying. Duncan rubs circles on her back but it barely registers.
“Veronica? Veronica, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice escalates with each question so she takes deep, gulping breaths, trying to calm down enough to reassure him.
“Daddy, I’m okay. But the bus—the field trip—” She knows she’s not making any sense but she can’t seem to stop blubbering.
“Honey, calm down and tell me what’s going on. Please.”
Another deep breath and she’s able to speak again, although her voice is still shaking. “Today was the field trip to Shark Field. The bus back to school—it went off a cliff.”
There’s silence over the line for a long moment.
“How—what—?” her dad sputters.
“I don’t know what happened. But I wasn't on it. I should have been, but—”
“Oh, thank God.” They’re not a particularly religious family but Keith’s tone is reverent. “Thank God,” he repeats. “Veronica, where are you now?”
“I’m still at the scene.” She glances around, notices Duncan’s still hovering at her elbow. Several sheriff’s cars have pulled up to the edge of the cliff, though, blue and red lights flashing, and the doors slam shut as the deputies race over to the mangled metal railing. “Lamb just arrived. I don’t know when I’ll be home,” she gulps again, tears clogging her throat, “but I’m okay.”
“Veronica, I’m coming to get you. I’ll see you as soon as possible.” His voice still sounds emotional and she can’t wait to be enveloped in one of his bear hugs. “Oh, and honey, make sure you call Wallace, Mac, and your other friends before they start to panic.”
What other friends? She presses the ‘4’ button on her speed dial to call Wallace before he hears about this from anyone else.
LOGAN
Once the idea to take Kendall Casablancas up on her offer to “play” grabs hold, Logan can’t let it go. He sends a text to the number Kendall programmed into his phone, and heads straight to Dick’s house. He needs to act on this decision before he changes his mind.
He imagines most guys his age look at Kendall and see a hot former Laker Girl. Logan looks at Kendall and thinks about Lilly.
He wonders if this is what it was like between Lilly and Aaron. Did Lilly find Aaron’s number in her phone, even after saying no? Was the cache of sleeping with someone coveted by others a turn on? Or was it the forbidden, illicit nature of the liaison that proved to be too tempting?
Lilly was no innocent when she and Logan started having sex, but for the most part they figured things out together. Sometimes Lilly would suggest they try something she’d read about or heard about from another girl and he never thought to question her. Now, though, he wonders if her ideas came from one of her other lovers...like his father. And since Logan can’t gouge out his own brain, he tends to avoid that line of thinking, and Kendall altogether.
But today, he’s just going to have to get over it. Kendall is exactly what he needs to get past his little morning slip up. As an added bonus, he knows that once a certain tiny blonde finds out (and she will find out) it will infuriate her. It’s a win-win. She’s so cute when she’s jealous.
Pulling up to the circular driveway, Logan spots Kendall’s sinuous form leaning against the Casablanca’s front door, waiting. She looks almost as good as he does doing that. And he bets she’s naked under that red silk robe. Oh yeah, he can do this.
He steers closer and imagines slowly removing her robe, kissing Veronica’s neck the way— Shit, no.
Okay. Forget the robe. Start by running his hands through her blonde— “Fuck !” He slams his palm against the steering wheel.
He drives past the front door with barely a pause. Cursing all the way down the other side of the driveway, he risks a glance in the rear view mirror, and catches a glimpse of Kendall’s face, slack with shock.
Pissed at himself, he heads where he always goes when he’s feeling… anything really. The beach.
Slamming the the car door shut, he walks across the sand, shoes and all, and plops down a few feet from shore, desperately wishing for a liquid refreshment. No matter what’s going on in his shitty life, the beach always suits his mood—it’s only the beverages that change.
Happy occasions call for champagne. Beer if he wants to relax. Whiskey if he’s morose. Tequila if he’s feeling destructive. He hasn’t had champagne since last summer. Not since he and Veronica…and there it is again.
Why does it always come back to Veronica fucking Mars? He can’t even sit on his beach without obsessing over her. Hell, he couldn’t even get it up for Kendall today. When did his body start obeying Veronica and not him? It’s ridiculous. How could she affect him so much? They never even had sex. Which is his own fault. He wanted to be more than just some guy looking to get in her pants. He thought it would give them a deeper connection. Stupid him.
He’s drawn out of us his ruminating by a text message alert. Grateful for the distraction, he checks the screen. It’s...Madison Sinclair. What is it with chicks putting their numbers in his phone? Flipping the cell open he reads:
“Where r u guys? I can’t reach Dick. We were supposed to meet up after ur stupid field trip. It’s been hours. Why did he even go with u? I called his house but his skank of a step mom lol hasn’t heard from him. U kno how flakey he ca
And reads:
n b. I figured he was probably w. u do u want to meet up @ Shelly’s w us? She’s still pissed Duncan so he prob won’t b there. U guys aren’t talking right? U should come, even if Dick flakes.”
And reads:
“Or maybe we can ditch Shelly’s & head 2 Amy’s or something. That way don’t have 2 listen 2 Shelly whine ab Duncan all day lol”
Does she… does she think they’re friends? What part of him constantly ignoring her makes her think they’re friends? Rather than encourage her, he calls Dick and leaves a voicemail.
“Hey man, your girl—the one you acknowledge in public— is looking for you. Call her so she stops bothering me. Talk later.”
His phone chimes again indicating a fourth text, but this time he ignores it. Dick can deal with Madison, he did his part. The only other thing he can do is go to Dick’s house to find him, and that’s not happening. Kendall might gut him with her perfectly manicured fingernails.
He spends another half hour listening to the waves before checking if he has cash on him. If you’re under 21 in Neptune and don’t want to raid your parents liquor cabinet, you need cash and a trip to Liquor is Quicker in the ‘03. It’s shaping up to be a whiskey kind of evening.
He turns on the car, but instead of his usual music there’s a news bulletin.
“....Neptune High School Bus Crashed on the way home from a trip to Shark Field. There are no known survivors. The names of the deceased will be held until the families are notified. Stay tuned for minute by minute coverage.”
His heart stops. No. There’s no way. But he knows she got on the bus. He saw her.
On autopilot he reaches for his phone to call her, and notices the missed text. Not Madison after all. It’s from a number he doesn’t recognize. Maybe Veronica lost her phone.
“Logan this is Wallace. Have you heard from Veronica?”
Fuck. Just… fuck all of this. He’s been trying so hard. To get through the day. To pretend his heart isn’t broken and his life isn’t a train wreck. To convince himself he’s worth more than bruises, lies, and abandonment. But what’s the point? What’s the fucking point when everyone who matters dies? He’s done. He can let the ocean take him…paddle out as far as he can go, and drift. He manages to lose everyone he loves with no effort, let’s see if he can go the same way.
His phone chimes again, but the text is too blurry to read. He digs his palms into his eyes and tries again. It’s from the same number. Wallace.
She’s fine.
She’s fine. Logan’s leans his head on the steering wheel and his body starts trembling.