"Hello, you've reached Logan Huntzberger. Leave a message, your contact details and I'll get back to you ASAP."

The voicemail greeting had changed since she had last heard it. It was shorter and more professional, it lacked personality, except for the last part. He hadn't spelled out the letters A.S.A.P; he said them as a word, an acronym, ASAP.

BEEP!

"Hi, Logan, it's me…Rory. Umm… I'm not really sure why I'm calling you. It's not like we've spoken since…" Rory hesitated about bringing that day up, she has spent weeks building up the courage to do this, and now that she was actually communicating with Logan, she had no idea what to say. Truth be told, she was thankful she got his voicemail; she wasn't ready to speak to him for real. She took a deep breath and decided that she might as well keep going since she had finally called Logan. Hanging up after just a few words was not an option.

"Well, you know the last time we spoke. Funny thing since you were there. This is weird, isn't it? Well, it is for me, anyway. I've gone from seeing or speaking or even texting you every day to nothing. I'm not used to nothing. There was nearly always something between us. That wasn't just me, was it? Because I think there was a definite vibe from the start, maybe not the start, start, but pretty close to it." Rory remembered the first time that she had wanted Logan to kiss her. It had been at the first Life and Death Brigade event that he had taken her to. It was the first time that she had actually taken the time to get to know him. She remembered being surprised that there was more to Logan than good looks, charm and a truckload of cash. She could still recall the feel of her hand in his. Despite the fact that they were standing seven stories above the ground, she had felt safe with him. She was enveloped by an instant sense of trust that made her feel and believe he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. Rory remembered when they were about to jump, out of fear she had tightened her hold on his hand, and he had squeezed her hand back. That one small gesture was incredibly reassuring. When they hit the ground and were in one piece, Rory couldn't help but admire Logan. He looked so alive and just for a moment he had shared that feeling with her. Rory's only regret about that day was that she had not been brave enough to kiss him.

"I feel like I need one of those chamber thingies that divers use, you know… so that they can acclimatize to being on the surface again. I feel like I've been swimming under water with you for a really long time and I now have to learn how to breathe again on my own." Rory paused again; she didn't know what else to say. She felt there was so much left unsaid between them. She had been rehearsing what she would say for days. But now that she had an opportunity to actually say something, she could not say anything, she was lost for words.

"Oh! Hey, I got a job." Try as she might, Rory couldn't keep the smile out of her voice. This was something that she was so proud of, and she knew that no matter how angry Logan was with her, that this was something that he would be proud to know of.

"Hugo offered me a job after one of his reporters had to pull out at the last minute. I'm part of the press corps that is following Barack Obama in his quest for the nomination in the presidential primaries." She laughed, she couldn't help it – the memory of her first day on the job always made her laugh. "I was so nervous my first day that I almost threw up. In fact, I have a constant feeling of nausea. I keep waiting for Hugo to call and say that hiring me was a mistake, and that I'm just not cut out for this. So, I… ah… hope that you are settling in at Palo Alto." Rory didn't know what else to say, she wasn't even sure if Logan even wanted to hear from her. She knew she needed to end this call. The weather was sure to be the next topic that she would talk about, but what else can she say to the one man who asked her to marry him. "Well, I'd better go… it's getting late. Bye."

Rory sat cross-legged on her motel room bed. The multi-colored comforter was pulled back, leaving her nestled in a sea of white, strange smelling sheets. Rory had come to discover that for some reason all motels, no matter how clean, all smelled the same. It was a strange musty smell mixed with Pine-Sol and fast food. She was getting used to the smell, but it was far from comforting. She was alone in the room; her only company was the whirl of the ancient air-conditioner. Her roommate, Kelly, was out with a group of other reporters, having drinks at a bar just down the road.

She had started her night out with the girls. Being her mother's daughter there was no way that she could pass up on the opportunity of going to a bar called "Ride 'em Cowgirl." The bar happily announced its name to the world with a bright pink neon-sign of a girl riding a bucking bull.

The bar's key selling feature was the staff – all of whom were well-built, tanned men dressed in faded Levis, cowboy boots, ten-gallon hats and nothing else. As appealing as the scenery was, Rory lost interest very quickly and left early, but not until after buying an array of souvenirs, including a set of shot glasses carrying the slogan "Milk the Bull." First chance she got, her Mom was going to get a present in the mail.

Rory dropped her phone and fell back on the bed. She pulled a pillow over her face and let out a scream of frustration. As she lay there with the pillow on her face, the reality of her actions sunk in. Rory had just called her ex-boyfriend whom she had not spoken to since turning down his proposal and had left him a pitiful voice message. She couldn't let that message be the last thing that she ever said to Logan. He deserved more than a rambling message.

Rory groped around aimlessly for the phone, still covered by the down pillow. In frustration she threw the pillow across the room, sat up and found the phone tangled in the sheets by her leg.

She quickly re-dialed Logan's number. Her heart was pounding in fear that this time she wouldn't be so lucky as to get Logan's voicemail, that this time he may actually answer the phone.

"Hello, you've reached Logan Huntzberger. Leave a message, your contact details and I'll get back to you ASAP."

Rory let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Logan's voicemail greeting.

BEEP!

"Hi, Logan, it's me again. You know how they say that you learn something new every day? Well, it's true. I'll tell you what new thing I learned today. I learned that I am one of those girls… one of those pathetic girls who call their ex-boyfriends and then, leave insane messages." Rory started to cry, attempting to keep the tears from falling.

"I shouldn't really be surprised since my Mom did it to Luke. And Luke being Luke came rushing over to make sure that she was okay. But, you can't come rushing over because you have no idea where I am, let alone the fact that we aren't even in the same state. I know it's wrong of me to think this, but why is it the one time I want you to come and whisk me off my feet, that I don't think that you're going to come whisking?" Rory started to completely lose it now. She was crying full on and didn't have enough left in her to care if Logan heard her cry.

"I know that I'm not being fair. In fact, I'll stop being unfair to you now. I promise no more random, hysterical messages. This is the last that you will hear from me. I hope that you find happiness one day. I really do, you deserve it." Rory ended the call. She reached behind for the box of cheap scratchy tissues that sat on the nightstand. She blew her nose and was grateful that there was a lot of snot involved, otherwise, the tissue would have felt like sandpaper on her skin.

The scratchy tissues were irritating – she was feeling so sick, so hollow and so weak. It was with these feelings running through that she finally felt something new. She felt anger. How dare Logan put her in the position that he did – asking her to marry him out of the blue like that? He told her not to factor him in, and then, he turned around and mapped out the rest of her life. What a nerve! She gave one final blow into her tissue and picked up her phone again.

"Hello, you've reached Logan Huntzberger. Leave a message, your contact details and I'll get back to you ASAP."

BEEP!

Rory felt no need to introduce herself this time. "You know what? I lied. That last message was not the last time that you'll hear from me. This one is." The more Rory spoke the stronger her voice became.

"How dare you make me cry! I am not the one who made a complete one-eighty degree turn. First, you tell me not to factor you in when I make my decision. You said and I quote, 'You do what you want.' And then, you turned around and said move to California with me. Get a job there. Live in a house with an avocado tree. Oh! And by the way, marry me or nothing. Who the hell do you think you are to say all or nothing to me? I have tried every step of the way to make this work between us. I stuck with you through all of your selfish stages. And the one time it was my turn to be selfish you couldn't handle it. I'm glad that I picked nothing with you, because if that was meant to be the beginning of our married lives together… it set a wonderful benchmark of just how much my wants and needs would be considered. You showed absolutely no regard for my wants and needs. It was so typically you! Not considering anyone but yourself. Heck, even just a little consistency would have been nice. If you wanted me to factor you in, all you had to do was ask. It would have been better than you giving me all those options only to take them away by changing your mind. So let me just finish with… Screw you, Logan Huntzberger, and the Porsche you rode in on!"

Rory felt a great sense of relief as she ended the call. She had finally allowed herself to be angry at Logan for putting her in this position and at herself for not being ready to say yes to his proposal. She wrapped her righteous anger around herself and fell into a deep sleep.