It had been a week since June 13th, and Veronica Mars wasn't in the habit of wallowing. Sure, she might get stuck on an issue, but that wasn't wallowing. It was persistence. But the fact remained that, a week ago, she should have graduated. And, yeah, maybe she had finally found a way to be forever free of Neptune High, but she would have preferred
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His frown instantly turned into an almost tired smile. "Oh. Uh. Hey, Veronica."
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"Hard week," he replied with a shrug. "Pam and I are..."
He hesitated. They weren't fighting, really. They were just avoiding each other. Or, at least, he was avoiding her.
"...I told her about the magazine," he finished quietly, as if knowing that she both would understand what magazine he was talking about and why it would be causing him to look like he did.
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No wonder he looked like that. Pam probably hadn't taken it well. She couldn't imagine most people would. "Why'd you tell her?"
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"Hi," she said.
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"Haven't seen you around in a bit. How've you been?"
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"You don't write, you don't call..." he started in a dry but teasing tone.
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Over the salt tang of waves and sand, she detected a hint of another familiar scent and sighed. Making a bong was one thing, but if anyone could find drugs on the island . . . Well, she guessed she shouldn't have been surprised. "Tell you what, take the credit card and do a little shopping on me."
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He was quiet after that, until he lightly bumped her with his elbow and stopped walking. "Look, I don't know why you've been avoiding me or whatever... but uh, I do think we need to talk. Here probably isn't the place though."
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