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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"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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He ran his fingers through his hair and then scratched at the back of his neck. He glanced around, still not sure if this was the right place to talk. "I haven't done anything wrong, I just... There are some things I'd rather you heard from me then someone else," he said at last.
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Whether he wanted to tell her here or not, he was going to. She had no intention of budging. Instead, she folded her arms and cocked her head, waiting. There was no one else around and she was comfortable here. Here was good, and she would give him the benefit of the doubt when he hsaid he'd done nothing wrong - at least until he told her what he'd done. "Alright. Like what?"
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It was something delicate that had to be said just right... so it wouldn't sound so bad.
"You remember when we had that talk about taking things slow, and I told you I was having some... issues," he asked awkwardly.
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Something was wrong and she had no idea what, except she was starting to have suspicions, and it was getting hard not to get upset in advance. I'm trying, she told herself. Remember that. Give him a chance.
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"I went to that party thing a few weeks back, and I was looking for you, but uh, I didn't see you... Then I ran into this guy, this, like, french guy and... Look, I'm not even sure how it happened. I had a few drinks," not nearly enough to get me drunk "and then we ended up back at my hut."
He didn't finish the story, he was sure he wouldn't have to.
"I met someone else too, but not at the party and... it wasn't, it wasn't the same so... Look, I just thought you should hear it from me and not someone else."
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And look where it got you.
"Well, thank you," Veronica said darkly. "That's very considerate of you. I'm just glad I don't have to hear it from whoever the island's version of Carrie Bishop is, because, from your mouth, it's such a relief to hear."
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She'd cut her strings, she'd cut them all when she came here. She wasn't going to be pulled along anymore - not by a staff of writers and not by Logan Echolls.
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"Funny how you only bring up my issues when they get in your way," he said dryly, shaking his head. "You know what, you do that then. Find yourself some nice island boy to hold your hand and do what you say. And when you get tired of it, and you know you will, Veronica, you'll know where to find me."
He took a step back himself and shook his head. "I wasn't lying when I said I need you. I just... I'm not like you. I can't just sit there and say 'what if'. Maybe you have it all worked out, and maybe you know who you are and what to do... But I don't."
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But she couldn't and she didn't want to, and she didn't really care if it was because someone had decided to make her that way.
"What, because you want me to play psychiatrist to you the rest of the time?" Veronica swallowed, looking skyward before turning her gaze back on him, hard despite the flicker of hurt. "It wasn't a threat, Logan. I don't want someone else," she said again, insistent and annoyed. He wasn't hearing her. "I was just pointing out the fact that I'm not the one looking for something more." Put that way, it didn't sound like something to be pleased about anymore ( ... )
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"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I want to tell you it won't happen again, but I don't know. I don't expect you to wait for me or whatever, I just... I'm not ready for this. I'm not ready to try again. I want to be, you have no idea how badly I wanted you back, but I can't do this. Not when I know I'm going to hurt you."
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And it hurt to hear him say he didn't want to hurt her. "What do you think you're doing now?" she asked dryly. "Whatever. Do what you have to."
It was colder than he deserved, and despite herself she was remembering Chase, but it was hard not to sympathize with Jay now.
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