Author: Lisabeth C PM
Season 4. Follows Veronica's sophomore year at Hearst. Love, lies, complications, the usual...Rated: Fiction K - English - Drama/Romance - Veronica & Logan - Chapters: 24 - Words: 50,673 - Reviews: 227 - Favs: 59 - Follows: 144 - Updated: 03-01-09 - Published: 01-03-08 - id: 3989093
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
My summer was long. The longest one I've ever had if I actually had to guess. Let's get to the obvious, the FBI. Virginia. Woohoo? Dream come true? Not hardly. It was an amazing experience, but one that was scary as hell. Plus, I was out there by myself. Despite Piz's efforts to join me, I refused. We broke up. I wasn't surprised, we weren't really a great idea in the first place. I've kind of resigned myself to the idea that things have to be a challenge to be worth it. He was so nice. It sucked to break it to him. The look on his face, I don't think I'll ever forget it. We're supposed to be "just friends" but I doubt that'll happen. Somehow I think we'll just end up being the kind of friends that don't really hang out but maybe wave in the hallway. Wallace is still fighting the good fight. The last time I heard from him was June 28th, which is understandable. He's having the time of his life and I'm proud of him. His last email was a glowing report of what he's been doing, helping and fundraising. He's supposed to come back two days from now and I intend on meeting him at the airport. His mom is worried absolutely sick. Mac has spent the entire summer in "Max-land" which I'm completely sure she's happy with.
A few less than happy points since my FBI internship? One being Parker. She'll come in to the library, supposedly doing summer research and completely shun me. I know she blames her breakup with Logan on me, which is fair, I guess…if you're ridiculously paranoid. But, last week, I heard her telling a friend she's transferring schools. Good for her. Another, big L himself. A few texts during the summer do me more harm than good. "Great waves in T.J., how's VA?" texts ringing out during FBI meetings, not a good additive to my already rookie reputation. What's up with the casual texts anyway? I digress. Last but not least, my glum father. After expecting to win the Sheriffs race by a landslide, due to missing evidence, mi padre has been hanging around the apartment when he's not at work. While at work? Not at his usual pace, while off from my library duties, I catch the slack free of charge.
Bored, waiting for my break, in oh, about 6 minutes, I check in some books. Singletini, Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul… no interesting reads here. While looking down, I hear the ding of my motel-esque brass bell. I look up and smirk. Logan Echolls. Am I surprised? Mildly, I'll admit. He's tanner, same style. Nothing remarkably different.
"And I thought this day couldn't get anymore interesting…"
"Now are you here for a raucous rendezvous in the stacks or some materials of higher learning?" I smile, leaning on the circulation desk counter.
"No raucous rendezvous' for me today. Shame, though." He grins. "No, actually, I'm trying to get an edge up on the upcoming school year. Turns out I may have to get that prized diploma for my future lifestyle. My accountant says I've been squandering my trust fund and inheritance. Hence, the early return from Tijuana." He raises his eyebrows and sighs.
"Tsk tsk. What materials can I score for you today, young Echolls?" I pause "That kind of sounds like a drug deal. Retract."
"Do you have the English II booklist?" He asks.
"Unfortunately." I reach under the desk to a drawer with Xeroxed sheets. I hand it to him.
"How was the FBI?" He looks me in the eye. It's a little unnerving, considering I came to see him the night before I left.
"Everything Miss Congeniality would lead you to believe. Except, you know, minus the pageant storyline." I pause, trying to overcompensate with pop culture references. "It was scary, Logan. I went through some things that I'd really rather not go through again. You get my drift?"
He nods. "But it was a learning experience, yeah?" I can tell from his concentrated eye contact with me that he remembers that night, too. Hello awkwardness, old friend.