A/N: My first Zoey 101 fic! I recentely became hooked on this paring...anyway, this is just going to be a light comedy piece to tide me over until at least Rollercoaster, told from Logan's POV. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Whatever.

My friends are such morons.

Things were going so well before they butted in. Like, amazingly well. Not only was I rich and hot—as usual—but I also had a hot girlfriend. And, sure, nobody but us knew we were going out (well, us and the pizza delivery guy, but does he count?) but it was actually kinda fun meeting in secret. Lots of dark-closet making out, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, the day I realized what morons they were started out innocently enough. It was a Saturday, it was sunny. Me, James, Michael, Zoey, Lola, Vince and Quinn were hanging out in the lounge before lunch. Then this blonde chick came up to me as we were sitting there talking.

"Hey, Logan," she said, smiling. "You look hot today."

"Thanks for noticing," I said, smiling back. I noticed Quinn was glaring at me. What? It's not like I was flirting. A girl complimented me. I thanked her. It's called being polite.

"You wanna grab some lunch?" Okay, on the other hand? This girl was definitely flirting. I shocked a panicked look at Quinn, which I sort of regretted afterwards—what if someone had noticed? Anyway, she looked pissed.

"Um," I said intelligently. "I'm not really hungry."

"Oh," the girl said, looking surprised. "Okay. Um. Well, I guess I'll see you later then."

"Bye," I mumbled as she walked away. I glanced at Quinn. She looked calmer; when she noticed me looking she flashed me a small smile. I was in the clear.

"Dude, what is with you?" Michael said, punching me on the shoulder. Which didn't hurt, because I have these amazing toned arms—but still, was that really necessary?

"Whaddaya mean?" I asked, giving him a weird look.

"That girl just asked you out! That was complete and utter flirting! An open invitation! And you turned her down?!"

"Yeah," I said. "So?"

"So?" James repeated. "So, what happened to Mr. I-Average-Three-Dates-A-Week?"

"Yeah!" said Michael. "I don't remember seeing you hitting on a girl in like two and a half months!"

"Yeah, well," I said, not really thinking of a good answer.

"The last girl I can remember you hitting on is that blonde girl when Sparkplug was following me," Michael said, and I was surprised to see that Quinn looked a little bit jealous. Really. Quinn being jealous of some random, unimportant chick I'd flirted with once. Sometimes things are just backwards. "That was like two and a half months ago?"

"So why did you turn her down?" Vince asked. I shrugged.

"She's not my type," I said. I didn't tell them that my type was smart and pretty and fun brunettes with glasses, who also happened to be really good kissers. Where she picked up that skill I don't know. Certainly not with Del Figgalo…she must just naturally be a good kisser.

"Dude," Michael said, interrupting my train of thought. "Girl is your type. Have you decided to become a monk or something?"

"Right," James said. "Logan the monk." They all got a good laugh out of that one. What did I do to deserve such friends?

"I decided there's more to life than a series of meaningless relationships with no real depth or feeling," I said. I was pretty sure they'd be impressed and awed by my amazing philosophicalness and maturity.

No such luck.

Instead, they all burst out laughing.

"Logan," said Zoey through her giggles. "I'd almost say that sounds sweet if it weren't coming from you." I mean, harsh.

"Guys," Quinn said over the laughter. "I don't think he's kidding!" Good old Quinn. Trying to defend me. Unfortunately, it might make them suspicious.

But no, they just continued their laughing. Quinn shrugged at me. I smiled at her—let my friends think whatever they wanted. It couldn't do any harm.

How very wrong I was.

"Okay, Logan," Michael said as soon as I walked into our dorm the next day. "Your date is at seven."

"Huh?" I said. I was still a little dazed from kissing Quinn—she seemed to do that to me.

"Your date," Michael repeated. "With a Miss Bonnie Hoover. One of the hottest girls on campus."

"I don't have a date with her," I said, confused. I may not be a genius, but I knew for sure that I had not scheduled a date with any "Miss Bonnie Hoover".

"Yes, you do. I just set it up," Michael said with a grin. He stood up and clapped me on the shoulder. "You ever been on a blind date before?"

"What?!" I yelled, understanding what he'd done.

"A blind date," Michael said, now looking a bit unsure. "It's where—"

"I know what a blind date is," I snapped. "How could you set me up on one?"

"Yeah," James said from his bed. "He's a monk, remember?"

"Dude, you need some lovin'. I'm worried about you—not picking up on girls? That ain't normal," Michael said, half joking.

I wasn't about to tell him I'd gotten more "lovin'" the last ten minutes than he probably had in his whole life. Instead, I punched him in the stomach. Hard.

"Oof," Michael grunted, falling back on James's bed.

"Dude!" James exclaimed, looking at me in surprise.

"What was that for?" Michael said. Okay, I didn't punch him that hard—just enough to make him loose his breath for a moment.

"For setting me up on a blind date!" I yelled. They both knew I had anger issues. But I don't suppose they took that into account when they were setting me up on this. It made me wish they had believed rumors of my monkshood.

"We were just trying to help!" said Michael.

"Yeah, well, you sure did a great job of that!"

"What's this all about?" I whirled around to find Zoey standing in the doorway, flanked as usual by Lola and Quinn, who looked worried.

"Nothing!" I said.

"He's angry because we set him up on a blind date!" Michael told them, as though this were the most ridiculous thing in the world. I turned away so I wouldn't have to see Quinn's reaction.

"Well, who'd you set him up with?" I heard Zoey ask behind me.

"Yeah, Stacey?" giggled Lola. "I can see why he'd be upset."

"Lola," Zoey said. "Be nice."

"No, not Stacey," Michael said. "Bonnie Hoover."

"The French girl?" said Lola.

"Yeah! The hot French girl!"

"So…why doesn't he want to go?"

Like the fact that I was facing the wall gave them permission to talk like I wasn't in the room?

"I dunno! He's been acting all weird lately."

"Look," I said, turning around. "I'm not interested in Bonnie Hoover, no matter how hot or French she may be, okay?"

"Why?" Michael, Zoey, and James all said at once. Lola raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. Quinn bit down on her thumbnail. I took a deep breath.

"Because," I said. "I have a girlfriend.