I got bored and decided to reread all of my reviews to I Hate You More, and I was inspired to write this. In honor of Quogan Day, I've decided to add a Bonus Chapter to my very first fan fiction, I Hate You More, mostly because it's my baby and I just can't seem to let it go.
I still don't own Zoey 101.
Quogan Day Bonus Chapter
I know it seems a little pointless for me to be sending you snail mail when we text, IM, and video chat practically every day, but if you ask me, there's nothing like getting a hand-written letter from the one you love. (That is, assuming you still love me.) Besides, you can't exactly stick a text message, IM, or video chat to the bulletin board above your bed, and those other two letters from me might be getting lonely or possibly worn out from you taking them down every day to reread them over and over. Especially the one that lived in Lola's pocket for nearly an entire semester. So I'm writing this letter for you to pin up next to that picture you took of me with Otis when I visited Seattle for your hippie grandma's birthday party. (I know I told you this before, but for an old person, your grandma really knows how to throw a party.)
Just know that I want a hand written reply to this letter. Oh, and don't tell Lola about this, because ever since she read that note she found in her pocket, she's been sending me emails every time she and Vince get in a fight asking me why he can't be as sweet and romantic as me. It's really starting to gross me out. Vince even called me once telling me that Lola was complaining to him that "Quinn's boyfriend is a romantic. Why can't you be more like him?" If Chase wasn't spending his summer in Hawaii with Zoey, I'll bet Lola would be bugging him instead of me, because Chase is way better at being whipped than I am.
I talked to James yesterday. I know, that's weird, considering my dislike for the guy. He said that PCA housing already sent him his new room information for fall, and you will never believe who the poor guy is stuck living with for a whole school year. Aaron Schinn. I'm not kidding. Can you imagine. Oh, and his other roommate's name is Forrest. As in Gump.
Andrea is standing over my shoulder as I write this pretending she knows how to read. It's kind of funny, because the only words she knows how to read are "Andrea" "Logan" "Mommy" "Daddy" and "Love." When she saw the word "love" in the first sentence, she knew I was writing a letter to you. She asked me if I was writing to you and I told her I was and she giggled and called me "mushy". Then she asked me if we're getting married. I said, "Not today," and that answer seemed to satisfy her.
I guess I'd better wrap up this letter, because if it gets too much longer, you won't have room for it on your bulletin board. Andrea says to tell you that you're pretty and that our dad bought her a pair of glasses with no lenses so that she can look like you. He thought it was strange, but she insisted on getting them. She wore them with her Sleeping Beauty dress when she was playing dress up and I tried to point out to her that none of the Disney princesses wore glasses and she said, "Well they should have." I think I kind of agree with her.
I love you, and you tell that guy at that coffee shop that your boyfriend says to stop hitting on you or he'll fly up to Seattle and take care of him. And remember, you better write back.
When I got your letter, I squealed for about five minutes, read it sixteen times, hung it on my bulletin board, took it back down to read it again, hung it back up on my bulletin board, and then spent two hours trying to stop smiling. I failed. I'm still smiling right now. I just can't seem to stop.
You can tell your sister thank you for me and that I think she's pretty too and that she doesn't need glasses or a Sleeping Beauty dress for that. I'm not going to threaten the coffee guy, by the way. That would be a little weird. But I appreciate your offer to "take care of him" for me, though I don't need your protection.
Speaking of which, my over protective brother has been asking all kinds of questions about you lately. Apparently my mom told him that you're the same Logan Reese who used to make fun of me, so he's started asking me all kinds of embarrassing and extremely personal questions. I was annoyed at first, but then I tried to imagine what I would do if I were him and my little sister started dating a guy like you. I'd beat the kid up, no doubt. But I assured my brother that he didn't need to protect me from you. He's always been protective over me. He's the one who taught me to render people unconscious by pinching a nerve in their elbow.
By the way, I would totally not object to the part about you flying to Seattle. In fact, I'll be inviting you to Seattle very soon, because my "hippie grandma" who "knows how to throw a party" will be throwing a Fourth of July barbeque this year. Trust me, my grandpa's burgers are so juicy and delicious, you'd have no idea that there's no meat in them whatsoever. Though as you're eating them, the thought of what they're really made of is always lingering in the back of your mind. Not quite as bad as PCA's meatless tacos, but still a little questionable.
I talked to Nicole yesterday via video chat. She didn't react the way I expected her to at all when I told her we're going out. I thought she'd be more shocked and disgusted like Lola, but she actually screamed excitedly and clapped her hands. Then she told me, "You and Logan are too cute. Don't you think you two are too cute? I think you're too cute." It was slightly bizarre. In other Nicole-related news, she said she's not going back to her all-girl school. She might be finishing up high school at PCA. I asked her if it was because she got over her Obsessive Male Gender Disorder, but apparently that's not the case. She got kicked out of her all-girl school because she kept sneaking off campus to visit the boys at the all-boy school a block away. She said she hopes her parents let her go back to PCA even though I stole her roommates from her, because "California boys are way cuter than all of the weird rednecks in Kansas."
I'm sorry about Lola bugging you about Vince not being a romantic. But I can't guarantee you that I won't read parts of your letter out loud to her. The thing about girls is that when we have a boyfriends who are basically perfect, we like to show them off to our friends.
I love you and I can't wait to see you again, whenever that may be. Call me the minute you get this letter.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this surprise addition to I Hate You More. It felt good to write this way again. To those of you from Kansas, I mean no offense by that redneck comment. I happen to be from the Midwest myself, so I honestly don't think that way of people from Kansas. Happy Quogan Day to all, and to all a good night. Please review.