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The boy sees her before he hears her. He is mid-jump when he catches the woman in his peripheral vision, walking towards him, waving her hands in the air, moving her lips. He sticks the landing, pulls his earbuds out, rolls slowly to a stop right in front of her. She purses her lips and steps back.
“Hi! Almost didn't see you there. You sure that doing that in the driveway is a good idea?” She gestures towards his skateboard. “Did you see our car? We honked but you had headphones on.”
Her eyes are wide and slightly bloodshot, her voice, pitched high and soft, has a jagged undertone. Experience has taught him to be sensitive to threat and he can read her easy. She doesn't like him. She never has. He takes her in: big eyed, fair-haired, a smudge of pinkish lipstick on her teeth, the smell of pharmacy bought perfume and too-strong breath mints. Fluttery and nervous, a real suburban Blanche Dubois. He could have fun with this. He’s formulating a line, something to unnerve her, when he makes the mistake of looking down at the small blonde girl behind her, crossing her eyes and sticking her tongue out of the side of her mouth like a dead cartoon animal. He chokes on a laugh, recovers and mumbles sorry in the direction of his feet.
“You don't have to be sorry. Just don't want to see you get hurt… again."
The woman points to his wrist. He looks at it. He forgot about the break from earlier this year. He’s surprised the lady remembers. The skin there is paler than the rest of him. Fish belly white against pink and freckle, the fine hairs slightly reddish in the sun.
“Logan.”
They both look at Veronica. She kicks at a pebble with her pristine Keds.
“Logan. His name is Logan, mom.”
“Right honey. I know his name.” The woman titters nervously. “Logan.”
“That’s me.” He holds his hand up. “And to think, I was this,” he indicates floridly with his fingers, “ ...close to being named Ariel. Dodged a bullet there, right, Mrs. Mars?”
The woman blinks at him slowly. Wow. She really doesn't like him.
“I don’t know... Ariel is so pretty.” Veronica walks past her mother, towards him, with that perfect posture, her voice light and musical. “She wants to be where the people are. Kind of like you.”
Veronica smiles, then elbows him with surprising force. He rubs his arm.
“Ronnie! Sorry. She doesn't know her own strength sometimes.” Mrs. Mars looks at him. “Are you also here for a sleepover… ?”
Her eyes scan his face. He’s about to tell her that he’s here for the annual Kane family orgy when Veronica interrupts.
“Mom, Logan is Duncan’s best friend. We’re not like, sharing bedrooms or anything. This place is huge, we probably won’t even see them. They’ll be too busy doing lame boy stuff. Like burning ants with magnifying glasses or playing Tony Hawk 7."
“Tony Hawk 3, actually. And yes.” He gives Mrs. Mars a smarmy look. “To it all.”
There is a moment of silence. Mrs. Mars looks around uneasily then clears her throat. “So,” she begins, “ ...where are Duncan and Lilly?”
Now they both look at him. Mother and daughter really do look alike, like this, their expectant faces turned slightly to the left. He mirrors them, tipping his head to the right.
“Uh yeah, they called. They’re running late, they were up in Palo Alto with Mrs. Kane for this big charity thing. They couldn't fly back for some reason so their driver went to get them. They’re supposed to be here later.”
“Oh. Did they say when?” She's trying to sound casual but there's an urgency to her tone.
“Duncan said they’d call with an update. I don’t know… probably in a couple of hours? I have Mrs. Kane's number too on my cell if you want to call her.”
“No. That won’t be necessary.” Mrs. Mars frowns and nervously presses her hand down her blouse a couple of times. Interesting, he thinks to himself. Not a fan of Duncan's mom then. Can’t say he blames her.
“Mr. Kane’s in town, he’s at work though. He’ll be here tonight.”
She takes in the information. “Ronnie, I don’t feel 100% comfortable with you staying here without your hosts but I do have to go meet my friends…” Mrs. Mars looks at her watch. “I don’t know what to do... Should I call your father? Maybe he can pick you up and bring you back later? You can wait at the station until the Kanes get back. How does that sound, sweetie?”
“Oh Mom, I’d rather not. Mrs. Arroyo is working today, right, Logan?”
He nods.
“The Kane’s housekeeper is here so there's an adult present. I’m sure Logan and I can entertain ourselves until Lilly and Duncan get here.” Veronica smiles at her mom, then at Logan. She doesn't notice the worried look her mother gives him, the tiny up and down glance.
Oh, he could have so much fun with her.
“Yeah, I think we definitely could,” he says blandly but keeps steady eye contact with Mrs. Mars, hoping she reads more into it than is there. It’s a trick he learned a long time ago. People are willing to believe whatever you tell them provided you let them fill in the blanks. Don’t give ‘em too much. Just enough so that they catch your implied meaning. Believe you capable of it. Veronica’s mom is believing alright and for a few moments as he watches her look at her car, look at her watch, look at her daughter, he almost feels bad for her. Almost. Then again, fuck her. He hasn't done anything. Besides she clearly has somewhere to be, somewhere she wants to be and whatever he may or may not do with her precious daughter is not high enough on the agenda to stop her. No matter how much Lady Macbeth-style hand wringing she indulges in.
“Okay. But promise me you’ll call your dad if Lilly and her mother aren't here by supper.”
“Of course, mom.” Veronica walks over to her and gives her a kiss on her cheek. “We’ll be fine. Have fun with your friends! Spa weekend will be awesome! I love you!”
“Love you too.” She touches her daughter’s face gently, then leans down to hug her. “Have fun, Ronnie.” She looks over at him and nods. “Logan.”
He nods back. “Veronica's mom.”
Mrs. Mars gets in her car and drives off. Logan is sure to put his arm around Veronica as he waves toodle-oo in the direction of her mom’s car. He knows she must be looking in the rear view mirror. He hopes she imagines the worst. That’s when a smiling Veronica punches him in the arm, hard.
“Ow. What was that for?”
“That was for being such a weirdo to my mom.” It’s like getting beat up by sunshine.
He jumps on his skateboard. Push, kick. Push, kick. He circles the driveway, quickly picking up speed, then zooms past her, reaching out an arm to swipe her as he passes by.
“Is it that hard to pretend you’re a real boy?”
Logan laughs. “I didn’t inherit my family’s acting abilities, Ronnie.”
“What acting abilities?” she counters innocently.
“Hey now. You enjoy practicing your acceptance speeches with dad’s Oscar just as much as D.K. and Hellbeast do.”
“Please. Daniel Day-Lewis was robbed and your pops knows it.”
He secretly agrees but leans down to grab her pink backpack on his next go-round regardless.
“Hey! What are you doing?!”
“What’ve you got in this thing? Rocks?”
“Give me my bag back!”
“Only after I’ve had a look, see what sweethearts like you pack for a slumber party with their bestie. Or is it beastie?”
“DO NOT OPEN IT, LOGAN,” Veronica yells, her face going bright pink.
“No? Ooh. Color me intrigued. Hey. You think whatever you've got in here will still work after it’s been floating in the pool?” He wags his eyebrows at her.
“Don’t you dare!”
She manages to leap in front of him, forcing him to a stop. Veronica doesn't go for her bag like he expects her to, instead she pushes his hip, screwing with his center of gravity and causing him to trip backwards on to the asphalt. She grabs her bag back and does a victory lap, looking ridiculous in her tiny shorts and t-shirt, both the colors of cake, too-wide smile on her face. The sight triggers an inexplicable vision of her as little girl fairy tale heroine, all pig tailed and rosy cheeked, killing the witch, the wolf, whatever scary monster is out there, with ingenuity, smarts and a well timed push. He wonders if he could ask her to take care of his. She’d probably do it. But first, this incarnation of Veronica Mars has to pay for getting him on the ground. He grabs his wrist, his face a grimace of pain and lets his body go slack. She turns around from what’s now an end zone dance and looks at him. Suspiciously at first but then with a growing concern.
“Logan?”
He groans.
“Are you okay?”
“My wrist.” He's aiming for clammy. This isn't hard to fake. It’s all in the breathing. You have to let it go wrong.
“Oh my god, Logan.” She runs over to him, and leans over, touching his arm reassuringly. “Should I call an ambulance?”
That’s when he strikes, he shoves her hard and watches her land on her ass, legs sprawled, her face a study in surprise. He jumps up fast, cat-like, grabs her bag back and makes a run for it.
“You’re so gullible, Ronnie. Catch me if you can!”
He takes off, cackling, to the back of the house, towards the pool. She scurries after him, shouting.
“You’re gonna pay, Logan Echolls. Don’t even think about throwing my stuff in the pool or I’ll get my dad to lock you up. Do you hear me?”
This only makes him laugh harder, the sound of it ringing through the trees.
Logan and Veronica sit poolside, in their bathing suits, a light blue tankini for her, long-sleeved rash guard and swim shorts for him. He tells her that he burns easily and she nods. It’s only a half lie. They eat sundaes courtesy of Mrs. Arroyo, the Kane’s housekeeper, clearly unhappy at having to stay this late on a Saturday. Veronica’s bag is hanging on a tree branch off to the side. Logan’s skateboard is in the pool. Neither has made any moves to retrieve their belongings. Logan gestures to Veronica’s face, then points. She licks the corner of her mouth, waits for a response. He gives her a thumbs up sign. They go back to eating. He absentmindedly kicks her foot under the table. She looks up at him appraisingly.
“Okay. I have questions.”
Logan snickers, the afternoon light catching the metal of his braces, casting little patterns of light on the table. “Ronnie Mars has questions? Shocker!”
“What’s this I hear about your summer tutor? I’m sorry… former summer tutor.” She tilts her head at him.
Logan opens his mouth in surprise, unsure of how to answer.
“I heard my parents whispering about it,” she says, by way of explanation, “I think that’s why my mom was looking at you like you were Jack the Ripper.”
Logan starts to speak. She holds her finger up.
“Ah. Ah. Ah. Don’t answer that yet. Let’s save the best for last. Softballs first, okay? Like… When did you get so freakishly tall? You were my height like four months ago. What gives, Logan? Did you just wake up one night and find that you didn’t fit in your bed? Did you buy some magic beans in Toronto? Are all your pants capris now?”
Veronica takes a spoonful of his ice cream. He still has chocolate left, she doesn't.
“Hey. Stick to your own plate.”
She ignores him. “This ice cream is sooooo good. They got the good stuff here at the Kane estate.” She nods at him. “Go ahead. Time is fleeting.”
Logan shrugs, his right shoulder touching his cheek in a gesture that’s equal parts nervous energy and self-comfort. “I don’t know… I hit a growth spurt? Both my parents are tall. Unlike some people’s… ”
“Hey! My parents are of average height. I could still catch up.”
“No offense Ronnie, but you look like you should be going into 6th grade, not 8th.”
She doesn't supply a comeback, she licks her spoon contemplatively. “Have you seen Lilly yet?”
“No. Thank god. I saw Duncan for five seconds when we got back last week. Why? Has the Antichrist gotten a makeover?”
Veronica rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say… she had a growth spurt.”
“Oh yeah? Is she still a bitch?”
“Logan! Watch it. That’s my best friend.”
“A tall bitch, then?”
“Logan.”
“Fine. Sheesh. Lilly Kane is great. She’s so cool. Blah, blah, blah.”
She sits back and folds her arms. He goes back to tapping her foot with his. She steps on it.
“What? I can’t win with you.”
“You could be nicer to Lilly,” she suggests as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
“I’m nice to Lilly. Nicer than she deserves. Besides, she doesn’t care. She’s never shown the slightest interest in being nice to me. Remember how she spent all of last summer calling me Pizzaface McDevilspawn?” He laughs mirthlessly, wiping sweat off his brow with an angry flick of his hand. “Fucking hilarious.”
“Well. She’s interested now.”
Logan tips his head and impatiently gestures for her to go on.
Veronica reddens but sets her jaw. “She heard about the tutor thing and wants to know more.”
“Ah. Are you her gossip procurer now? You need to get your mistress a juicy story? How sweet. You’re like a female Igor.” He looks around her. “Just looking for your hump.”
He mimes ringing a church bell and smirks, stopping to eat his cherry with gusto and flicking the pit at her after. It lands in her bowl with a tiny, wet thud.
Veronica smirks back, takes a spoonful of ice cream, then flings it into Logan’s face. It hits his cheek. His mouth opens in shock at the cold.
"Oops."
She makes an exaggerated wah wah wah face, balled-up fists at her eyes and sprints away from the table. He almost follows but sits back down with a sigh instead, wiping the ice cream off of his face and licking it from his fingers. She watches him from the other side of the pool with a mischievous grin.
He points at her, mock menacingly. “You’re so going down.”
She scoffs. “I'll find out, you know."
He looks off into the distance. Makes sure to over enunciate his response. “Not. Gonna. Happen.”
"You can’t keep it from me...”
He stands up. Yawns.
“So you may as well tell me,” she finishes, eyes narrowing in anticipation.
Logan runs, impossibly fast, and reaches her before she even has a chance to really react, just scream, a high, breathless squeal like the kind you hear from moviegoers at a good horror movie. Somehow they both wind up in the water, with her getting the best of him by virtue of being more slippery. She just wiggles from his hands every time he thinks he has a good grip.
They stay out in the yard for the next hour and run around. Since she can’t convince him to go one on one with her at soccer, Veronica demonstrates her recent mastery of a gymnastic routine instead. Two cartwheels, the third one-handed, to a round off, perfectly straight, a series of pastel pinwheels. Logan eyes her legs, slim and pale, her feet, high arched and tiny, toenails painted glittery turquoise.
“Hey. Up here.”
He looks up to her face, affecting disinterest. “That’s not that impressive.”
“Oh yeah, Károlyi? I worked hard on my form. Go ahead, see if you can do it.”
“I need another look. Show me again.”
She does it once more. He frowns in thought.
“Well? You ready to go, Logan? Time’s a’wastin’.”
“Give me a sec. You don’t rush excellence.”
"You know... You could give me the tutor scoop and we can forget all about this little challenge. Hold on to your dignity."
He smirks. "Keep dreaming, shortcake."
Logan takes a few steps, then neatly executes the same routine, his legs just as straight, landing strong. He looks at her, exhilarated. Her expression is unreadable.
“What? Did I forget something? Oh, right.” He throws his arms up and arches his back, doing his best Olympian gymnast bow, he directs it to all four corners, then throws in a curtsy for good measure. She’s still keeping her face impressively blank but he catches the slightest curve of her shoulders angling forward in suppressed laughter. This feels like an even greater victory than showing her up.
“That was… great.” She squints at him accusingly, a finger to her lips. “You've done that before.”
“Nope. I’m just naturally gifted.”
“Does everything come easy to you, Logan?” she asks with a crooked smile.
“Yeah, pretty much.” He grins and bounces on the balls of his feet, back and forth, like the happiest of prizefighters. “That was rad. I should get D.K. to ask his folks for a trampoline. How awesome would that be? We could do back flips!”
She shields her face and stares off into the bushes for a second, lost in thought. When her eyes return to his, she’s back in appraising mode. Ally or threat? He can’t tell. So he goes with what he hopes is right.
“Come on, let’s go raid the fridge. I think Miri’s doing the upstairs now, so we have a brief window of opportunity before she returns to glare at us, all spooky-like.”
“Her name is Mrs. Arroyo, Logan.”
“Her name is Miriam Arroyo. Miri for short. I used to think she hated me but it turns out that’s not true.”
“How do you know?”
“I broke one of Celeste’s dumb figurines and she didn’t rat me out. We're on a first name basis now.”
He grabs her hand and pulls her in the direction of the house.
After a couple of creatively stacked sandwiches and an aborted game of One-Eyed Jack (turns out Miss Mars isn't a fan of cards), Logan’s cell rings. “Dude!” he cries out and his voice cracks slightly. He blushes and looks away from Veronica, who smiles to herself.
Duncan sounds contrite. “Sorry, man. We’re en route but there was some trouble with wildfires and we had to be diverted.”
Logan hears Lilly in the background asking for Veronica.
“Uh huh… is Veronica with you?” Duncan asks.
“Yeah,” he glances over at her, “we’re both here.”
The Kane siblings murmur to one another other, then Duncan coughs. “This really sucks. Tell her we’re sorry. Mom isn't sure we’re going to be getting back in time for dinner. We’re hoping tonight but it might be pretty late. We spoke to Dad and he’s not sure when he’s coming home. I guess he has some big project.”
“Right.” Logan tries to hide the disappointment in his voice. Veronica perks her head at him, noticing the change.
He hears Duncan say something to his mom, away from the phone. It sounds like he’s covering the mouthpiece with his hand and then he's back. “Look, dude, you’re welcome to stay overnight if my dad gets back but Mrs. Arroyo has to go home at 5:00 p.m. so after that you’d be on your own.” Duncan’s voice drops. “I think you can manage not to burn the house down, right?”
Logan huffs out a laugh. “Sure, man. I’ll be good.”
Veronica tugs at his arm. What’s going on? she mouths. He shrugs and shakes her off.
Duncan laughs. “Great! I’ll see you later. Hopefully?”
“Yeah. See ya.”
In the background he hears Lilly’s shrill voice yelling, “Donut, tell Pizza to hand the phone over to Veronica… “
He hits end call. Veronica tries to grab his phone, he holds it above her head. She crosses her arms, sets her jaw and glares at him.
“I wanted to talk to Lilly. What’s going on?”
He shrugs and throws himself back on a lounger. “They’ll be here in a couple of hours.” He lies smoothly. “But… Miri leaves at 5:00 p.m.” That one wasn’t a lie. Veronica looks worried. “You think you’ll be okay without a chaperone for an hour?"
She snorts. “Will you?”
“Me? I’ve got you to keep an eye on me.” Logan frames her face with his hands, viewfinder style. “Veronica Mars, Lilliputian Terror.”
“Right. I know what you do with your so-called ‘chaperones’.”
He drops his smile. “Do you?”
She maintains eye contact but a blush starts at her jawline and shimmers up the side of her face. He glances down at his feet, embarrassed, and decides to give her a break.
“Or you can call your dad. Go home.” He plays idly with his sleeve, pulling it over his knuckles. He brings the corner of one up to his mouth and sucks on the material with his teeth.
Veronica walks over to him and sits on the opposite lounger. She reaches and tugs on the hem of his rashguard. “Logan. You know my dad wouldn't let you stay here by yourself. If he knew that no one was here, you’d be going home too.” She stops. “Are your parents even in town?”
“Yeah. My dad’s here. Trina is off shooting some Disney thing, mom’s in New York shopping for junket season.”
“Just you and your dad, huh? What do you guys do when you’re by yourselves? Does he teach you how to not blink when stuff explodes behind you? Because that is a gift.”
Logan smiles grimly to himself. “Yeah, something like that.”
He shivers and looks up to see her watching him. “I’m cold.” He lifts his brows. “Wanna start a fire?”
“Logan.”
“Calm down, Ronnie. I don’t mean the house. I’m not suggesting we torch the place. I meant, you know… ” He motions to the fire pit expansively.
“I don’t think that's a good idea.”
“Wait a second… ” Logan’s energy shifts, suddenly focused. He points at her, jabbing the air slowly. “You said if... If he knew… ” He snaps his fingers and slaps his knee in triumph. “Does this mean the sweet, law abiding sheriff’s daughter isn't going to call her daddy and tell him she’s all alone?! You’re actually thinking about it. Ha!”
“This is making me reconsider.”
Logan cackles, clapping his hands with delight. “Is it possible that I’ve corrupted you?” He holds a hand to his chest theatrically, “Don’tcha know that lying to your parents is the gateway to all sorts of nastiness, Ronnie?” He leans in, widening his eyes in an attempt at an innocent expression.
“I’m not lying. Who said anything about lying? Not telling and lying are two different things.” She frowns and crosses her arms in front of her, defensively.
“Are they?” He smirks for a moment then spins on his heel, hands fluttering at the sides of his face. “‘I do misrepresent things. I don't tell truths. I tell what ought to be truth.’"
“What’s that from?”
“A Streetcar Named Desire by Tennessee Williams. My mom played Stella last summer at the La Jolla. You should read it sometime.”
They look at each other.
“Is this a staring contest? Because you’ll lose, Logan.”
He smiles, a genuine smile that he feels in his eyes, and stands, picking her up by the waist and spinning her around and around, her long hair flying.
“Put me down!”
“You really do weigh ten pounds soaking wet.”
“I’m dry now, you big goofball.” She smacks him on the arm as soon as he sets her back down.
“Ow. Why do you keep hitting me? I’m a delicate flower.”
Veronica tries to look fierce but a smile forms instead, which turns into a giggle, her tongue peeking out from her front teeth. She's cute, with her pointy little chin that she juts out when she fights and her wide, sneaky mouth, always twisted up into something like a half smile. That’s how he knew, when he met her, that she was smarter than most.
He brushes some hair out of her face. She blinks.
Her eyes are… pretty. They remind him of his cat, Dollar. Glittery and sharp like they can see in the dark. Logan touches the scar on his forearm from where she’d scratched him. The cat, not the girl. He’d been holding her when his dad had walked into the room unexpectedly, causing her to scramble out of his arms, nails extended, fight and flight.
“What are you thinking?” She tilts her head at him, her eyes wide, top teeth biting her lip.
He hasn’t noticed he’d been quiet all that time.
“Nothing.” He bounces on his heels again. “Actually... I was thinking...how are you so short?" He looms over her, arms curved monster-style, and laughs.
“Yeah, yeah.” She moves to swat at him but he gracefully leaps out of her reach.
“I just love my new view from up here.” He spreads out his arms, wiggles his fingers and spins on his heel. “I feel so powerful. You can’t lord our nine month age difference over me anymore.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think that’ll ever get old.”
Logan grabs his stomach in response to the pun. She slaps her thigh. They fake laugh until it turns real.
“Won’t have the same effect though, will it? Your told-you-so speeches. Now that I tower over you? Maybe you can start carrying around an apple cart?”
Before she can make her inevitable, smart mouthed rejoinder, Logan pulls her in to whisper conspiratorially. “I have an idea. Let's make s’mores.”
Veronica looks to the side, he can practically hear all the gears turn, her face a perfect picture of inner conflict.
“Note to self. To disarm your opponent, local killjoy Ronnie Mars, lure her with the promise of a gooey snack.”
“Shut up.”
“So small and yet so hungry.” He pokes her non-existent belly. “Where does it all go? I call shenanigans.”
“I’m a growing girl, that’s all.”
“Suuuuure. I think you’re gonna be a little wittle itsy bitsy dainty nothing forever.” He steps back and folds his arms behind his head, stretching lazily.
Veronica frowns. “God, I hope not.”
She plays with the knot of her swimsuit top. Things get quiet and Logan wonders if he did something wrong. He doesn’t want to go home.
“I’m not,” Veronica breathes out.
“What? A little firecracker?”
“Your opponent.” She nods once, her eyes softer than before. Kind.
He looks at the ground, suddenly shy. When he glances up, she’s still looking at him. Logan speaks first. “Come on. Let’s go get dressed and find something to watch on TV. We'll plan some s'mores mayhem during the commercial breaks.”
“Okay.”
“Really? Yes!”
“No fire pits though. Nothing that involves the use of lighter fluid.”
"Fine."
Logan grabs Veronica and picks her up, holding her sideways like a parcel and makes for the kitchen entrance. He's halfway there before her kicks and punches become too much.
“Stop it!”
“Aaaw, come on.” He puts her down, brushes her off. “But you’re so small. I just want to put you in my pocket.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Okay.” He holds up his hands in front of him in an ‘I surrender’ gesture, then showily clasps his hands behind his back and walks towards the house. She skips to catch up and walks beside him for a moment, shoving him out of the way right when they hit the door.
She falls asleep on his shoulder watching Real Genius. She’d seen it before. They made popcorn and argued about whether or not Val Kilmer’s sidekick was actually Sarah Jessica Parker dressed as a boy. Logan fell asleep first, he hadn't slept much the night before, and when he wakes up, she is right there, pressed up next to him. He wonders if this is what having a girlfriend is like. Or is this just a different type of friendship? Not like D.K., who is awesome and kind, the most thoughtful person he knows really, but also distant, just out of reach. His mom used to tell him Duncan was the only kid who could play with him without starting a fight. Practically all he does with Veronica Mars is fight. But it’s fun. He knows she gets it.
He looks down at her and notices for the first time that she’s wearing make-up; the sparkly kind of eyeliner and lip gloss. Kissing her would be weird. But maybe okay. It’s hard to tell with her. If he could hang out with her, like this, all the time, he could probably deal with not knowing. Whether it would be good or not. Though it probably would be. Good. He looks down at her knee, resting sideways on his thigh. He thinks about touching it and his hands tremble. The realization freaks him out a little. He clasps his hands together and puts them on his lap. That’s what he does if there’s no other way to hide their shaking. The gesture is practiced, studious. No one’s caught on to him yet. Not even his old man. He breathes in. He can still smell the chlorine coming off their skin, the warmth of the sun that has its own ineffable, lingering scent. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep again but he does. He trips into it accidentally, falling forward and never hitting the ground.
He opens his eyes, still drowsy, and notes that it’s dark outside. She wakes up a few moments later, looks at him sleepily, pats him on the arm, then shuffles off to the bathroom down the hall. Five minutes later, he hears her shriek and she comes tearing down the hall.
“Logan! It’s almost 9 p.m.! Why didn’t you wake me?”
He figures a fib is best. “I just woke up, I thought it was earlier.”
She approaches him slowly and pokes her finger in his chest.
“What time did they really say they were coming?”
“I told you. Hours ago.”
“Logan.”
He rubs his eyes and yawns. Her angry face is hilarious. He squints one eye and touches his brow. “Ummm, 11?”
“WHAT?!”
“What? That’s two hours from now. Might as well stay. Come on, Ronnie. Weren't you having a good time? Mr. Kane should be here soon too. It won't be much longer.”
“Call them, find out where they are NOW. Use the house phone. Pass me your cell.”
“Yes, boss.”
He hands her his phone with a sigh. While he calls Duncan, Veronica calls her dad.
As of 9:05, Mr. Kane still hasn't come home and Duncan, Lilly and their mom decide to stop in L.A. for the night and try again for Neptune in the morning. Logan and Veronica sit outside waiting for Sheriff Mars to pick them up. Logan contemplates taking off, having Veronica tell her dad that he’s already left but he knows the Sheriff has probably called his dad by now and he doesn't want to make things worse, if there's a worse to get to. He hates Veronica in that moment. Just a little bit. For being so sure that what she’s doing is right. For not being able to do wrong.
“I put your cell in your bag,” she says, her voice low.
“Okay.”
“We couldn't stay here by ourselves.” She wants him to agree, he can tell.
“Sure, whatever.” He executes a small jump but doesn’t quite catch air, his foot smacking the corner of the board without appropriate force. He stumbles, his board clattering away.
“Hey. You never told me what happened in Toronto. With your tutor.”
“Oh right, I forgot you still need to fulfill your minion duties.” He rubs his hands together.
Veronica says nothing.
“Sorry. Your B.F.F. duties.” He spells out the letters in an adenoidal drawl, a pitch perfect imitation of his asshole sister.
“Lilly didn’t ask. I wanted to know. I asked for me.”
Logan’s expression changes. His reflexive smile is all teeth, no joy.
“I read the tabloids in the supermarket. I was… curious.”
He brings his hand up to his mouth in mock shock. The thing is, he is shocked. And, in a way he can't articulate, disappointed.
She continues, in a rush. “I know that stuff is mostly lies. I mean, I know Bat Boy didn’t really endorse Al Gore in the Presidential election. So yeah. You don’t have to tell me. I don’t know why I asked. I thought it was important. But it isn't.”
He jumps in place for a bit, expelling energy or anger or nerves. Or some singular Logan Echolls combination of all three.
“My mom found me in bed with her.”
He gets back on the board. Tries his jump again. Misses, falls. He stays on the ground this time, rubbing his hands together to relieve the sting. It’s too dark, he can’t see Veronica’s expression, her body doesn’t move at all.
“Oh.”
“That’s what you expected, right?”
“No. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. Why wouldn't I be?”
“Well, it’s completely illegal. You're thirteen.”
“I don't look thirteen.”
“You’re a child.”
He barks out a laugh. It sounds flat. A straight line of sound, with no intonation at all. “I am not a child. You have no idea.”
“Logan. Why are you smiling?”
He exhales, a frustrated, annoyed sound. "Look, Veronica, relax. It’s no big deal.”
“What did your dad say?”
“He slapped me on the back and bought me a fine cigar. Congratulated me on becoming a man. It was fine.”
He gets up, tries his jump again, hitting the back hard, jumping as high as he can over the board, attaining a perfect strip of air, meeting it smoothly, knees bent, landing easy, softly. Nails it. He lets himself weave around a bit, then coasts, the comforting sound of his wheels scraping the surface of the driveway stark against the silence. It’s a beautiful night. He wishes he could be in the ocean right now, floating in inky darkness, white foam and white stars. But he can’t even smell the water where they are. There’s only Veronica, sitting on the Kane’s front lawn, a small black figure in the dark.
“Well, Ronnie? Are you going to lecture me on the dangers of underage sex? Or are you and Alien Eyes gonna whisper about it in corners?”
Veronica mumbles something.
“What?”
“I won’t tell Lilly. Or anyone. I won’t tell.”
Now it’s his turn to be quiet. He rides around some more until he grows bored. He jumps off and lets his skateboard clatter on ahead without him, slowing down to a stop in the shrubbery.
“Veronica. Why are you even friends with her?”
“Lilly? She’s amazing. She makes me laugh, she’s smart. We've been friends forever. I can’t remember not being friends with her. You should give her a chance. She’s so much more than what you think.”
He nods.
“Why are you friends with Duncan? He’s so quiet and sweet and you’re-”
“Not?”
“I was going to say boisterous.”
Logan scratches the back of his head. “He’s the person I love most next to my mom. Don’t tell him I said that. It’ll weird him out.”
When he looks up at Veronica, she's smiling.
“You’re entrusting me with all your secrets, Logan.”
“Yeah, I guess that means we’re, what do you call it… ‘friends’?”
“Yeah.”
“Cool.”
“Hey, do you want to see what I have in my bag? What I didn’t want you to see?”
Logan nods. She unzips her backpack and pulls out a stick with a long ribbon attached to it.
“You're kidding. That’s it?”
“Yeah, I’ve been working on a rhythmic routine. I know, it’s kinda girly. But I love it. Even though it’s a little embarrassing. Here. I’ll give you a preview.” She unfurls the ribbon in the air, flicks it, creates a spiral, a snake, then throws it in the air and catches it as she jumps, smiling sideways at him, feet pointing sharply upwards. She lands and rolls into a folded pose. Logan laughs and claps.
“That’s awesome! I don’t think I… ”
They hear a car coming down the street and turn their heads at the sound. A police cruiser stops in front of the house. Veronica stands up slowly, rolls up her ribbon and puts it away. She walks over to Logan and pulls him out of the driveway. He lets himself be led. Mr. Mars must know the access code because the gate opens. They stand next to each other, waiting, and when the headlights flash over their faces, they look at one another. She smiles and punches him in the arm, much lighter than she has all day. He grabs his arm and staggers back, earning himself another laugh, another win.
He didn’t expect her to but Veronica does all the explaining. Logan decides the best thing to do is to play the sullen jerk, thus avoiding having to corroborate or deny any of the details. Sheriff Mars doesn’t seem fooled though. He looks him over with those sharp little eyes of his and Logan knows, instinctively, that he has to watch him most of all. He suggests that Logan ride in the back and Veronica immediately squeals a me too, me too.
“Now we can be both be apprehended fugitives. How cool are we?”
He isn't sure but he thinks he sees Sheriff Mars roll his eyes at that one before fixing his attention back on him. Logan looks out the window, attempting diffidence while his hand feels around for an exit. There isn't one.
“So Logan, heard you were at your father’s film shoot in Canada most of the summer.”
“Yeah.”
Veronica steps on his foot.
“Ummm… It’s some action thing where my dad plays a guy whose son is kidnapped. He has to save him before something explodes, I dunno. It seemed stupid.”
Logan nibbles at his sleeve. Sheriff Mars doesn’t turn around. He wonders if he’s staring at him in the rearview mirror. He feels like he must be.
“I almost didn’t recognize you standing next to Veronica. You've gotten so tall.”
Logan sighs. Veronica steps on his foot again. He winces. “Yeah. All my pants are capris now.”
Next to him, Veronica’s shoulders shake.
“I’m glad your own joke amuses you,” Logan murmurs, staring down. He taps her knee with his.
“What can I say? I’m a real hoot.”
“What was that, Veronica?”
“Nothing important, Daddy.”
She grins at Logan for a moment, then faces forward.
They turn onto his street. That took no time at all. His chest tightens at the sight of the place but he covers it with a tightlipped smile.
“I’ll get out here. You don’t have to pull into the driveway.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I got it from here, Chief.”
He sees Keith narrow his eyes slightly. “I’m glad you got it. Veronica and I will stay and make sure you get inside. Right, honey?”
“Right, dad.”
She steps around to her father and he puts his arm around her. They lean against the car. Logan punches in the gate code, opens the gate and closes it behind him.
“See you tomorrow!” Veronica shouts after him.
He turns around, waves. He doesn’t tell her that might not happen.
Logan makes his way up the driveway and looks over his shoulder to see that they’re still there. He waves one last time before going in through the side entryway. He pauses, watching them in the security camera screen next to the door. Sheriff Mars kisses Veronica on the head and opens the passenger side door for her. They drive off.
He struggles with his heart rate, willing it to slow down. He prepares himself, staring at the ornate hall mirror and aiming for impassive, blank, because it’s better to play dumb sometimes. He removes his shoes and pads into the family room/kitchen. The light is on, the room is empty and there’s a note on the table. He cautiously approaches it.
Son, running through some new pages with a friend and will be busy until late. I’ll see you at breakfast. Love, Dad
He’d been holding ever since he stepped into the room, and he breathes now, crumpling up the note in his hand and letting it drop in the trash. He makes his way through the house slowly, the muffled sound of a woman’s laughter comes from the direction of his father’s study, and his nerves, still firing in anticipation of trouble, go into overdrive. Logan arrives at his bedroom just in time and closes the door, taking deep, gasping breaths, angrily wiping at his face. He’ll call Enbom or something, someone’s bound to be home and looking to sneak out. He found the key to the liquor cabinet last week which should sweeten things somewhat. He’ll definitely get in trouble, actual trouble this time, worse than the kind he was avoiding all day but he doesn’t care. He needs this.
Logan sticks his hand in his backpack, feeling around for his cell phone. He stops, confused, and pulls out a handful of popcorn. He opens his bag all the way, it is packed with popcorn. He unzips the small pockets, the ones in the front. Full of the stuff. He laughs. He laughs until his stomach hurts. He bounces onto his rolling chair, spins over to the desk, gets on the computer and types out an email with one finger. Hits send.
I’m gonna get you for this, Veronica. See you at the Kane’s. L.
Then, fifteen minutes later, a reply.
Can’t wait. ;)