Veronica Mars (
watching_you) wrote2006-05-19 12:41 am
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Neptune High Graduation
Graduation at Neptune High is an event. Always has been. Neptune's rich and famous love to see their children all done up, and this event is no exception.
The auditorium is decked out in Pirate colours, green and yellow, and everything matches - the banners, the balloons, the gowns. There's an air of excitment, of pride, of anxiety.
Up on stage, Van Clemmons starts calling names.
The auditorium is decked out in Pirate colours, green and yellow, and everything matches - the banners, the balloons, the gowns. There's an air of excitment, of pride, of anxiety.
Up on stage, Van Clemmons starts calling names.
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This might explain the expression on his face when Veronica's name is called.
Or it could be that he skipped breakfast. It's hard to tell.
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It occurs to Trina that she should perhaps have seen if Logan needed a stylist to get the hat on correctly, since it appears to be flouffing up on top on his head.
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Maybe his cap and gown were swapped with someone else? It's the only explanation that makes sense.
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Or the academic world needs to accept that there is not a single human being who doesn't look absurd in a mortar board, and give up.
Trina's waiting by the door when the graduates leave.
"Congratulations, little brother."
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"Thanks," he says, grinning. "Glad to be done."
He gives her a long look. "And you decided to show up when?"
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It's light, but she actually might be, a little. Not that she'd ever admit it.
"You look very green. And sort of polyestery."
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"Yeah, I'm thinking it's not my color," he says. "If only we could have been clad in gold with green trim, right?"
Or orange. Or argyle. Because those are other overused colors and patterns on this show.
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"Honestly, I think any polyester dress-like thing is kind of a lost cause."
Even in argyle.
"But hey, you don't have to wear one again for at least four years."
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There is, surprisingly, no rancor in his voice. "So are you taking me out to a celebratory lunch, or am I going to have to scavenge on my own?"
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"Hell, if you've got your fake ID on you, I'll even buy you a celebratory drink."
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She's in a generous mood.
"I'm kinda surprised Dad's not here," she adds, as casually as she can.
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He slows a bit at her last comment. "Uh, yeah, well, I don't think he's too happy with me right now," he says. "Given my choosing to testify and all."
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"You talked to him? Outside the courtroom, I mean?"
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It's only mildly defensive.
"He's our father, Logan."
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Too bad he wanted to kill two of my girlfriends goes unspoken.
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But all Trina says is, "Maybe things'll be different."
She doesn't really believe it, though.
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"I don't - " Logan stops, not knowing if he's going to say, "I don't think so," or "I don't want them to."
He settles on "I don't know." It seems the only thing he knows for sure.
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"And I don't think I can continue this conversation completely sober. You want me to drive?"
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He can always come back and pick up the
offensively yellowXTerra later.He wants to say something nice, a compliment, because she's right and being smart and kind and he appreciates it, but he doesn't know what, exactly. Anything he says will come out wrong, either patronizing or smug or just idiotic.
So he says nothing, just gets in the car.
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"I think this is the first time I've driven you away from this school when you weren't drunk since . . . did I drive you home from my play junior year?"
He'd been eight, she'd been sixteen, and something (she hadn't known or cared what) had happened with Logan and Dad on their way to the play.
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"Yeah," he says, remembering the night. "And then you didn't make me go to dinner with them, which I thought was the best thing ever."
Logan had been whining about the play - he didn't want to go AT ALL, to watch stupid high school kids in their stupid play he wouldn't understand. He wanted to stay home and play video games.
Aaron dragged Logan to the car and physically restrained him with seatbelts. As in, using the center one to tie him to the others.
Logan really appreciated Trina's license then.
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