He wasn't sure where she came from, or how much she'd heard. Suddenly, Veronica Mars was there, his hand in hers, a demand on her lips. Logan briefly wondered when he lost track of her in the crowd. He thought he'd done a good job of keeping tabs throughout the night.

His frustration with Gia was still fresh, which caused him to look for a fight. He thought quickly of a way to see how much of a rise he could get out of the small blonde as she yanked him across the room, "when I dreamed of this moment, I've Had the Time of my Life was always playing. Eh, what can you do?" Disappointingly undeterred, she turned to him. For a moment he hoped that she would walk away. Or slap him. Something to maintain their current status. When her arms slipped around his neck, his breath involuntarily caught in his throat, his heart hammered in his chest. While he inventoried those reactions, his hands rested lightly on her waist, unbeknownst to his conscious awareness.

They swayed in tight, tiny circles, while Logan stared down into her eyes. He noticed Veronica could not return the gaze. When she did, neither of them could hold it for more than a few seconds. There were moments when he leaned his head in as though he would kiss her. Old habits, he told himself, sure they meant nothing. Just like the heat and sweat he felt under his palms was because they were in a crowded gym. The panic he felt every time she leaned her head down at the thought that she'd hear his heart thudding from his body or feel his pulse in his neck in her forearm? Well, obviously he was still worked up about Gia.

That's what he told himself as they moved together in the dark gym. Each and every time her head shifted, he valiantly resisted the urge to place a kiss on her forehead or rest his chin on her head. He could think of nothing to say- no quip about the cliche of being at a high school dance, no barb about her wishing he was Duncan. The thoughts left his head as quickly as he tried to grasp them. All slipped through until all he had left were the constant reminders his head sent out not to kiss the blonde in his arms.

When the song ended, she took a step back. The music shifted to some loud pop-punk song Logan recognized from the radio. The lights moved around the floor quickly as the bodies started to jump, the crowd surged towards the speakers.

"I've gotta go," she told him, her eyes trained on his shoulder. He watched her reach for him, then change her mind and place her arm back at her side before she turned.

She ducked and weaved her tiny body halfway across the dance floor before Logan realized what happened. His arms felt empty, his body suddenly felt cold. All the places they'd been connected moments before felt light, like they'd detach from him if given the chance. At once he's disappointed and pissed. He thought he was really over her. He was sure he didn't need her around. Yet, somehow, she managed to confuse all the truths and mantras he'd cultivated in their months apart. He didn't need her. She didn't make him feel different than any other girl did. He could be happy without her. He didn't want her approval. She didn't have a scent to her that made his stomach knot.

Here was the moment. Follow her and call her out on what just happened, or stay? He moved to step forward and was jostled by some obnoxious stoner who bounced on towards the speakers. It was just enough to snap him from his reverie. Duncan just left her. Now was not the time to even consider that her reaction was anything more than hurt.

Instead of going after her, he headed the other direction, exiting the gym from the far side. There was no way he could stick around for the rest of the night after that. Instead, he headed to his truck, responsibilities be damned. It would take at least half a bottle of tequila to get him back to where he started before those three minutes of swaying with her.