Chapter Text
Strength in Numbers
“Good golly, Miss Ronnie. What the hell happened to your hair? Close encounter with a weed whacker?”
Logan expects no response. In the three months, two weeks, and five days since the Lilly video hit the net under Keith Mars’ oh-so-not careful watch, the three months, two weeks, and four days since Logan officially transferred Veronica from the friends to enemies column, the only responses to his taunting- no, to his punishment- have been tear-filled glances and tight-lipped silence.
Two things that had almost made Logan stop.
Stop the snide remarks. Stop the cruel confrontations.
Because Veronica had been his friend, his first after moving to Neptune. God, he remembers seeing her for the first time like it had been today. Not even yesterday with the night’s darkness and cool breezes to dull the memory. But today, just five scant minutes ago, the memory so crystal clear in his mind. It was his second day in Neptune- registration day at the local middle school. He remembers approaching the double front doors of Neptune Middle, remembers walking a respectable four and a half feet behind his mother because he was cool, damn it, remembers rounding the corner to the principal’s office and seeing her there in all her soccer glory. All long blonde hair lit by the late afternoon sun. All short shorts and knee socks. All California tanned goodness. She sent a shy glance and a welcoming smile his way, and he ambled over to say hello. Wow her with the Echolls charm.
Of course, all thoughts of macking on Mme. Mars vanished the instant she introduced him to Lilly Kane and Lilly’s sinful smirk. But Veronica remained his friend. Hell, Logan had wanted her to be his friend, be a pure ray of sunshine-lit innocence in his crooked and corrupting world.
So it hurt; it hurt him; it hurt the memory of who he used to be, the memory of who he and Veronica used to be before Lilly’s death, to hurt her like he did with his harsh words and harsher glances.
But he did it anyway.
The memory of Lilly’s broken and bloodied body hurt him more.
The knowledge that the memory of Lilly’s broken and bloodied body didn’t hurt Veronica enough, Veronica who had seen Lilly with her own damn eyes lying by the Kane’s pool, for her to admit that her father had been wrong in going after Jake Kane hurt Logan more than seeing those tear-filled glances and hearing those tight-lipped silences.
So Logan kept pushing. Kept picking at the wounds he knows she bears because someone has to stand up for Lilly and the Kanes. Because Lilly was her best friend and Duncan was her boyfriend. Because the Kane family deserved her loyalty and Veronica turned her back on them.
“I know how you Mars women love the bottle. You didn’t go snip, snip during a drunken late night bender, did you?”
But it’s hard. Pushing. Picking. Keeping up that constant stream of vitriol and viciousness against someone who used to be his friend. And in that place deep down inside where Logan stores everything he hasn’t let himself feel since Lilly’s death, he knows it’s getting harder. He knows that if Lilly were here right now to see him treating Veronica like this, like absolute shit, she’d give him the worst verbal smackdown of his life, cold clock him one upside the head, and then dump his sorry ass right there in front of the entire school.
But Lilly’s not here.
And that’s the problem.
“No, wait, let me guess. You decided to pinch hit for the other team and needed an appropriately butch haircut to go along with it.”
Logan doesn’t expect a response, so he tries to steel himself for the tears and the silence.
Logan doesn’t expect a response, so when he gets one, he’s more than a little surprised.
“I just took in a copy of your eighth grade picture. My stylist warned me that it looked a little gay. I guess she was right.”
He’s thankful.
Because it means that Veronica doesn’t have her sunshine or her innocence anymore and nobody should have that now that Lilly’s gone. It means that Veronica’s world is now like his; everything’s crooked and corrupt and there’s nothing left but nastiness and pain and a few harsh words for the right person across the way. It means that he won’t have to fight to keep everything he’s felt since Lilly’s death and Veronica’s betrayal inside anymore, that he won’t have to be pulled between loyalty to Lilly and fond remembrances of Veronica, that he won’t have to find the strength to face the tears and the silences and the fact that they’re Veronica’s, Veronica who used to be his friend, because, most of all, it means that Veronica can be strong enough for the both of them.
And for that, he’s thankful.
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