A/N: Happy Quogan Day! So in honour of the holiday, I'm re-writing a Quogan favourite, All Year Around. I hope you enjoy it. Watching Walk-A-Thon, which is chock full of Quogan is inspiring me. So that helps. Anyway, enjoy. I also changed the setting a little. So, now this story takes place in Senior Year and beyond.

And I'm officially bringing Heather back! She's too awesome not to have in a Quogan story.

Disclaimer: No. Simply, "NO!"

Background Music: "That's How You Know" – Demi Lovato

All Year Round

[1/2]

I. January

Quinn Pensky has a bittersweet birthday – her eighteenth birthday.

The encyclopedia set she has her eyes on is a gift from Zoey, and they sit on her homemade, technological bookshelf. She makes herself a bookshelf that automatically alphabetizes and categorizes so she can finally relieve herself of that task. Her best friend gets her a t-shirt with a catchy phrase, "Talk Smarty To Me" across the front in white block letters.

She doesn't have as many Converse sneakers as Chase, but she will wear the orange and purple polka-dotted ones he gives her as a present tomorrow, definitely.

Michael really knows how to put a party together, and his present comes in the form of an amusing rap. She laughs only because it's relatable and it never lacks that Michael Barrett comedic touch. The laughter is real and genuine and she hugs him, just as tightly.

The party is amazing, but currently, there's a lump building in her throat, while she fingers the beautiful heart shaped locket gives her – in the form of a medium-sized box that seems to magically appears on the yellow couch near the window. Now, she lightly fingers it while she walks out of the lounge.

After all, the flurry of students dancing seems to melt together. This party is for her.

The party is all for Quinn, and she is so grateful, but she's trying to mask the inevitable fall that will fall. Tears make her boyfriend uncomfortable, but it can't be helped.

After all, even though all of her friends are dear to her, the one closet to her heart passes away.

"Hey, there you are," comes Logan's voice coated in laughter. She doesn't have to look from carefully applying chucks of trial dry ice with tongs to know that's it's a jubilant laugh spawned misery or defeat – preferably another's. Quinn hopes having Lola as a friend finally benefits her, because it's her birthday. Maybe Quinn is just too self-serving and selfless. Maybe Quinn is too clouded and even guilty for not actually throwing Michael a birthday until the weekend after. It's pretty ironic since Michael puts together this amazing, vibrant party.

With a quiet resolve, Quinn sniffles so inaudibly that her boyfriend can't hear it. Her logic: if Logan can't hear it, he can't question it and be all concerned and sweet. So, Quinn will actually succumb.

"Yeah, here I am," she replies, suppressing the stinging and pressure building up behind her eyes. She keeps the unfortunately inevitable tears at bay, forcing her tear ducts to obey and hold the reservoir of ever building tears.

"Quinn, what's up?"

The brunette rises, leaving her bubbling green concoction and plants herself on Zoey's single bed. Quinn smiles and fails miserably – fail is never associated with her, but she's just so sad on her birthday.

"Nothing," she sighs, and takes Logan's hand when he sits beside her. Plastering a smile, she gives him a look of assurance. "It's just," she pauses, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. " – the party was lovely and I appreciate it, but I'm exhausted. It's not every day I have a sugar crash of sorts."

Quinn watches Logan scrutinize each her. It's worth a shot – the lump in her throat makes her voice get the smallest tremor in her voice. It sounds loud in her own ears.

"Nah, something's up."

"Logan, just because I choose not to take in my own birthday party entirely, that doesn't mean you have to miss out as well."

"In my own defense, it comes with the whole boyfriend thing," Logan softens a little bit. Curse that sincerity in his tone. Curse it to the land of scientific inaccuracies! "And even if we weren't dating, and we could stand each other, I'm not heartless."

Quinn maintains trying to keep her voice even when she slowly drops his hand, "As your girlfriend, I appreciate your company, but I'm fine."

He's silent.

And Quinn hates that he has this ability to read her so well. Either that, or Logan just being unintentionally intrusive, but still it's an acute ability, semi-superpower.

"Okay," he sighs, resolvedly. "Fine, even though I know something's up, I'm going to leave, but whether or not you tell me about your alpaca kicking the bucket," he winces when Quinn somewhat glares at him with tears building up. "I mean, passes away into uh, alpaca heaven, then you know where to find me."

"How did you know?"

"Easy. Lola told me this morning in History class. It's your birthday. We called a truce for today only," is his short reply. The call from her father plays on repeat in her head. Quinn puts on a happy face not wanting to be the reason for her own eighteenth sinking like the Titanic. It may be petty, and it may not even matter for another four years but at least being eighteen first gives her the eligibility to vote.

Quinn is touched her boyfriend and best friend put aside their differences.

"Thank you."

"Can't stand each other, but you know. I can go a little longer without wanting to hack my ears off, now" he explains, and adds the humorous afterthought of breaking his personal of forty seconds. Logan sighs, looking somewhat awkward and concerned at the same time. "So, you wanna talk about it?"

"Why? Tears make you uncomfortable, so…" Quinn pauses, cheeks becoming flushed with a tinge of red. A few more sniffles escape her and it almost makes her chest hurt, keeping the sobs lodged in her throat for so long. " – I'm giving you the opportunity if you want."

Sighing, Logan rolls his eyes, "You're obviously sad, so quit pushin' me away and let me just be your boyfriend, okay?"

Quinn's voice is breaking, tears finally starting to make their presence known.

This isn't that great of an excuse, but she should know how stubborn he is.

"You hate tears on your shirt."

"Yeah," Logan answers, truthfully with the utmost seriousness in his eyes. "I'll live."

"I'm upset over an alpaca, Logan. Don't you think that's silly?"

"No."

Quinn loses something quite dear to her heart today. Ironically, nine is the number of years Otis of years the alpaca stays before he dies another nine years today – on her eighteenth birthday.

This truly emphasizes the bittersweet factor, but at least Logan is here to somewhat soften the blow when she allows herself to cry and release what she's been holding back all day.

Happy eighteenth birthday, indeed.

II. February

Logan Reese absolutely thinks Valentine's Day is completely and totally stupid.

The shape of hearts make him gag – or it could be the sight of Coco wearing pants with red and pink glittered hearts that are about three sizes too small as she walks around the girls' lounge. Nonetheless, he hates the holiday that exploits his favourite colour. His stomach growls and even though he thinks the whole Valentine's Day thing is a complete, and utter rip off, he's in a semi-good mood.

How could he not be in a good mood? Logan's favourite red vintage shirt and a long sleeved zipped up hoodie, because it's kind of breezy with a slight chill – even for California. In a comfortable pair of jeans, Juanita fluffs his hair just the way he likes it. And the fact that he's currently making out with Quinn in her empty dorm room, so that might even help that mood factor a tad.

"I could use a study break. Lola's got play rehearsals and Zoey's got an emergency yearbook meeting to go to today. They won't be back for a couple more hours," is her clincher, and the way she's borderline begging him is adorable. Just because he can't stand the idea of the warped holiday, that doesn't mean he can't compliment on how hot Quinn is in a light pink floral off-the-shoulder top and the denim shorts she wear to accentuate her legs for miles.

"Are you asking me to make out with you?"

Quinn drops his wrist, raising an eyebrow and small smile touches her lips, "It's Valentine's Day, so in a role reversal way, yes."

"In that case," Logan answers, pondering which take him three seconds maximum. " – yes, but I'm just warning you: I'm not too into the whole Valentine thing."

"That's a shame, then. I'm going to have to force you into submission," rebuts Quinn as she takes his hand and they walk into the empty dorm room only a few hundred feet away.

Oh, her first blatant innuendo.

Logan smirks proudly, "Quinn, I'm totally corrupting you."

With a laugh, she closes with the dorm door, and presses her lips to his. That's what leads him to the point of making out with her – returning the gesture, and indulging in her like the world indulges in their chocolate hearts. He tastes the lip gloss with that distinct coconut flavored twinge, and her scent is indescribable – not because she smells amazing, but because he really can't describe it, literally.

He feels drunk, giddy, high, and stoned all at once and all he's had is a hamburger and a Blix.

But if this is what she'll do to get him to convert to loving Valentine's Day, Logan will hate it every single year.

III. March

Sometimes, Quinn Pensky thinks, Logan being her boyfriend is causing her to be slightly more neurotic than she wants to be.

Of course, Logan's a sweet guy underneath the cool guy exterior he puts up for the world to see, but Quinn is angry, borderline furious and enraged. Quinn is walking towards Sushi Rox, and the comparison between the psyche and mannerisms of the male mind and a mismatched, unsolved Rubix Cube pops into her head. The male mind – specifically Logan's mind – compares perfectly with a Rubix Cube in aspects only brought up on a surface. Both require precise and careful thought. Here's the difference: Quinn can put together those cubes in the average time of two minutes and match all of the colours together no matter hard. On decoding endearing, semi-difficult boyfriend was one of the hardest thing in the year (as of February) since their relationship.

The clock is still ticking and two minutes are up a long time ago.

Even so, Quinn is by no means a jealous person. Really, she isn't, she re-affirms even though though her fingers naturally – almost subconsciously – go to where her zap watch with the upgraded, more potent laser would be.

Zoey confiscates it, and Quinn hands her the other laser discreetly strapped to her ankle.

Quinn isn't in denial, and she definitely isn't prone to being consumed by the green-eyed monster. She suddenly hates St. Patrick's Day, though she's of Polish-Irish descent so she's naturally dressed in green as is every student on PCA. Pushing the glass doors to the popular student hangout, she takes a deep, calm breath. After all, just because Logan blatantly has his history partner changed just to prove a point – that doesn't mean Quinn actually exhibits a jealous streak.

Quinn does care, and anyone who attributes that to jealousy will wake up, not so comfortably tomorrow morning.

Amelia is pretty. Tan skin, and exotic features with honey brown hair that sparkles when the light hits her. Her smile is bright with white teeth that aren't obviously natural. How can they? Following the sound of Amelia's nauseatingly harmonious laughter, Quinn walks over and smiles looking down at the new history project couple.

"Hey, am I interrupting anything?"

"Oh, hey Quinn," Amelia greets, happily, blue eyes sparkling and matching her mood. "What's up?"

"Nothing much really," the brunette replies, eyes discreetly flaming with rage directed towards Logan, who merely smirks in silent smugness. It's not jealousy. All of this green everywhere is just for the holiday. There's nothing ironic about it. "Can I talk to you, Logan?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"No, no. I just really need to talk you. Now," she answers, through a forced smile. She turns to a confused Amelia while gripping Logan's arm. Quinn really hopes she's hurting him because he really does deserve it. All because Quinn is chosen to tutor Allen Finklestein in Biology. It's not like Ms. Bellamy puts a gun to her head and designates her as Allen's tutor forcefully.

Stupid, stupid Logan.

Standing at an impasse, Quinn doesn't know whether to be flattered by his jealousy or just throttle him, painfully.

But dangling a quite attractive history partner in front of her is way out of line, even for him.

"Amelia, I'll be right back and you can tell me about that John Hancock dude," he says to Amelia before Quinn is angrily but slightly shoving him to the farthest corner of the sushi restaurant.

"How could you?" Quinn questions, angrily, placing her hands on her hips. "You can't possibly be engaged with history with Amelia, because this is clearly a ploy to prove something to me!"

With a proud smirk on his features, he laughs lightly, "And I did, Quinn."

"Can you enlighten me before I possibly hurt you?"

"Fine," Logan sighs and explains, nonchalantly. "You're just as jealous as I am. Even the whole thing with Amelia being my history partner is making you crazy. End of story. Admit it, Quinn. We're both a couple of jealous nuts. You can't tell me not to be jealous with you and Finkle-loser having some kind of study thing together."

"So, let me get this straight: you basically partnered with Amelia to prove a point?"

Logan places her hands on her shoulders, staring her in the eyes, "Yes. And admit it, you were insanely jealous and frankly, I don't blame you."

Quinn hates that he's right, and he totally knows how to get under her skin. Quinn hates that Logan uses the one thing she relies on and prides herself on to prove a point that is true. So what if he's right? Maybe Quinn does feel the smallest twinge of jealousy and envy. Maybe Amelia's attractiveness and general niceness along with her boyfriend sitting in close proximity eats at her slowly like the corrosive acid she mixes with a classified number of substances…maybe sort of held with the Federal Bureau of Investigations. It's not relevant, but the bottom line is Logan's little "experiment" works.

And he's completely, utter correct even though those Logan totally drives Quinn crazy.

But she does love him, and maybe, jealousy is okay as long as it's the healthy kind.

Sighing, her resolve crumbles and Quinn crosses her arms over her chest, "You really don't know how impossible you are, Logan."

Logan raises his eyebrow with a smirk starting to grow on his face, "And you're quite hot yourself."

"Don't charm your way out of this."

"Is it working?"

"Yes," Quinn replies, with slight irritation before Logan uses a hand to stroke her cheek before totally and completely submitting to the sensation of Logan's warm lips over hers. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kisses him back before pulling away. She laughs, seeing that his lips are slightly sparkly with his lip gloss and runs her thumb over his bottom lip gently. "I guess I do exhibit jealous tendencies."

"Well, on the upside, I could look at you all day in green."

Maybe there is a small correlation between St. Patrick and healthy jealousy.

IV. April

Logan,

Before I actually get to the letter, I just want to tell you I'm so sorry I couldn't be in the States for one of the most important birthdays of your life.

I'm actually pretty pissed off about it, because something decided to spontaneously come up with the gallery and the upcoming art show. So, I have to go to New York and then I'm off to Rome, so once again, I'm so sorry but I know your present will make up for it.

Be prepared to read for a while because this letter will be long. Tough cookies.

I'm your mother, so let me have my moment. The fact that you share the same birthday as Shakespeare is pretty awesome – I swear, your father and I didn't plan that because you were due a week before on the sixteenth – but seriously, let me have my moment.

Firstly, your father and I don't agree on most things. Hell, we actually clash like it's a disease, but the few things we do agree on is the fact we are so proud of you. We're so proud of you and can't be happier that you're a person with your own dreams and ambitions. I'm completely freaking even more proud that you're going to the same college I did. Aside from rubbing it in your dad's face, both of us are seriously happy for you, and I know the labour was worth it.

I'm going to have to let go of you in the slightest, because the reality is you're not the toddler who used his mashed peas as hair mousse and ended up with green hands and a green Mohawk to match. You're not the five-year-old that pulled out all of my flowers and gave them to me, roots and all for "Mommy's Day". I was so ready to punish you and give you a time out in the corner, but I couldn't. You charmed your way out of it, and I trimmed the flowers and put them in a nice vase.

You're a mix of your father and I – not just physically, but personality-wise too.

Rebellious and free-spirited like me, but charming and endearingly manipulative like your dad. Well, with you it's endearing and I like that you're ambitious and you think big.

Eighteen years ago, I gave birth to you. But I never really told you how you came about.

I envision two things right now: either you're cringing or you're rolling your eyes in that way.

Yeah, but I'm gonna tell you because I feel you're old enough and it doesn't make me cry when I mention it anymore. Now, it's one of those life experiences that I can learn from but anyway, here goes.

Logan, you would have an older sister by two years older than you. It was shocking to me since doctors for some reason told me I wouldn't be able to have children – that I would stay childless for the rest of my life. Rather than set myself up for it, I had closed the door on motherhood on together. So, when I got pregnant for the first time, I was ecstatic and couldn't wait. It was one of the times that Malcolm and I got along and were happy. It was a little girl and your dad doted on having a daughter. Nine months later, I had her and we named her Hannah.

I guess I lied. I'm getting a little teary-eyed. But I tell you anyway.

Hannah was the most beautiful baby in the world. Long story short, we were devastated when Hannah unexpectedly died of SIDS, two months later.

Your dad put himself into his work, somehow detaching himself from me. But I guess I was to blame as well. That's what I thought for the longest time – that I killed my own baby because I was physically unfit to have children. I told myself that every day and cried about it, when your dad wasn't home. I didn't want him to see him break down when I always made sure to keep my guard up in front of him. And now, I was going to come undone?

Hell no.

So, I suffered in silence and Malcolm and I stay married even though it was slightly strained.

You were always the kid with surprises. And I stand corrected because while I thought I had the stomach flu or some stomach virus of some kind, I went to my doctor for routine blood work and all the icky stuff.

Lo and behold, I was pregnant again with you.

Nine months later, I gave birth to you and I cried when I found out I had a little boy.

I think your dad cried more than I did, because Hannah just brought everything back to him and he was happy he had a son to carry his name. He won't admit it to this day. Believe it or not, your name was a pretty random choice. But you looked like a Logan, so it stuck, hence your name, Logan. You're Irish-Welsh on her dad's side and I'm half-Italian so we settled on Anthony as your middle one.

That is how you came to be. That's how you exist – I've watched you grow from little boy as a bundle of energy to a man with ambitions and dreams and I know you'll shine at Berkeley. Maybe your father and I are a bunch of crazy nut-jobs in disguise. Or maybe everyone else are the nut-jobs and we're actually pretty sane and in the right frame of mind, but we are so proud of you. We have an awkward, twisted relationship that will never be understood, but we both agree that we want you to live healthy and happy.

So, before I sign off on this long letter – told you it was going to be long – I want to give you a bit of motherly wisdom.

Words can't express how much I love you. Honestly, I see you're changing and you've developed a sense of empathy, not to say you were ever apathetic, but you know what I mean.

I've only spoken with Quinn a handful of times, and the pictures you've sent me don't really do her justice. I want you to hold on that girl and continue to love her as much she obviously loves you. They say parents are a mirror for their children, but seriously, don't follow your father and mine's examples. Let's face it, Logan. Follow what we did and you'll give yourself a one-way ticket to Dysfunction Ave. That's something I don't ever want you to go through, so you treasure Quinn. Don't take her for granted or you'll regret it. Do little gestures. Give her a hug when she needs it. Tell her you love her and mean it.

If I hear the term "mother-in-law" within the next four years – emphasis on FOUR because you're just that impulse and maybe…in love – then, I approve. I'll be there as your mother, but by no means will I interfere…unlike certain grandmother you have.

It's your day. Sorry.

But if I hear me and the term "Grandma" earlier than I should, then I'll kill you. Unfortunately, your temper comes from me, so I know even though I love you greatly, I'm capable.

Words can't express how much I love you.

Happy eighteenth birthday, Logan.

Love,

Mom

P.S. Okay, I can't pull off the whole mysterious thing, so enjoy your new 2009 MacBook. In the big box I had sent to Quinn, it has the MacBook and the new Visor 6000 camera, you've been "subliminally" asking for. Enjoy the editing software in both, and be as creative as you want.

--

There are flurries of emotions that run through him on April 23, 2009 – on his eighteenth birthday.

Logan feels a blend of irritation because he really can't things that jump out at him and catch his off-guard, but he loves to party and when it's a massive surprise party for him, Logan can't help but the tiniest bit grateful.

He absolutely loves the shirt Lola gives him, and he laughs because it's true. It says, "Seriously, I'm REALLY too sexy for my shirt." Zoey gives him a friendly hug and her gift is a free spa pass. Logan takes the spa passes from him and stuffs it in the pocket of his shorts. After all, his skin doesn't stay flawless by himself.

Chase and Michael make him a mix CD, and Lisa actually hosts the entire party.

Smiling that radiant smile of hers, Lisa hugs the person she's respect to respect and love almost like a brother, and Logan hugs her back. She pulls away, as Michael wraps a lazy arm around her shoulders, "Happy Birthday, Logan."

And the best present possibly get is from Quinn – a circuit that she manages to wire and on the television screen in the boys' lounge appears Heather wishes him a happy birthday live from where she is in New York.

"Hey Mom!" Logan says with a genuine grin and he gives his girlfriend a kiss on the cheek.

"Happy birthday, honey!" Heather says, with a vibrant smile revealing pretty white teeth. She blows him an air kiss on screen. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there in person, but I hope you got the present from your dad and I. He sends you birthday wishes. And thanks so much Quinn. I owe you one!"

"Oh, it's no problem at all!" Quinn responds, small remote control in hand and a small wave.

"I have to go but we'll definitely talk. Bye everybody!" Heather says, blowing a kiss, and waving before the screen goes black.

Turning to her boyfriend, the brunette smiles, "I hope you liked your present from me."

"Oh, wow. Brains and beauty? Score one for the Logester," he smirks, and then smiles, pressing a kiss to her lips before pulling away. " – but yeah, I liked it. Thanks."

"Okay! Now, that we've had that aw-worthy moment," Michael says, earning a glare from the birthday boy while Michael claps him on the back. " – I'm ready to party it up! Let's get our party on!"

The Happy Birthday Logan banner is okay.

The presents are pretty cool.

And he'll laugh at the fact that Michael bakes him the best cake in his favourite flavor – and outwardly rip on him for a while, with Chase giving him that reprimanding glance.

But he's too busy twirling his girlfriend on the dance floor to think about it…for now.

V. May

"Looks shouldn't really matter," is the first thing that Logan says in lazy tone. His eyes are closed and he takes on the façade of one is asleep when he really just remarkably lazy. Feet crossed at the ankles are resting on the small table, and Logan interlocks his hands together placing it at the back of his head to get comfortable.

"What?" Quinn says, surprised and amused as a laugh escapes her, as she eyes the boy sits across from her. Where has her boyfriend gone? "On most our dates, you take longer than me to get ready."

He opens an eye and switches his position to look at her, "Not true, Quinn."

"Oh yeah?" she challenges, eyebrows raised. "You took fifteen minutes just for your hair because you ran out of your mousse?"

"It was industrial sized."

"And you still ran out regardless," Quinn offered, teasing smile on her features.

"I care about my hair. Honestly, what kind of world would we live in if I had hair like, for example, Chase?"

When she gets up to be closer to him, she feels his arm pull her in gently by the waist, so her current destination happens to be in his lap. Forcible confinement, she thinks and laughs inwardly. Prom is exactly in four days, and there's still so much to do. She wonders if this is just another ploy to get her to disclose the contents of her prom dress.

Nestled in his lap, and with his arm holding her, she lightly slaps his chest in admonishing, "Be nice."

"The things I do for you," he sighs, pretending that it's actually a burden to be nice and attentive of other's feelings. Well, it's not that he's against empathy – as mentioned and quietly established, Logan is not heartless – but it's just not his thing to be so nice so often in one sitting. With Quinn, it's easier because he sorta digs her.

Placing a hand to her heart, Quinn smiles, and kisses him before she reluctantly ends it, "My hero."

"So, now that I've got my Quinn fix for the next couple of hours," Logan starts, as she subconsciously wraps her arms around his neck.

"Yes?"

"You think I can get a preview of that hot little prom number of yours?"

"Ah, so you thought you could butter me up and get me to tell you what my prom dress looks like, huh?"

"Yeah," Logan answers, with a shrug. "I need to know so I can get you a corsage since it's like tradition and the prom gods will totally kill me if I don't, for once, listen."

"It's your favourite colour, a nice shade of red," the brunette tells her boyfriend with a mysterious smile and hops off his lap, only to retrieve her purple backpack. She almost wants to groan because her skin warms up at the contact and now that it's gone, Quinn almost wants to be mad at Lola for scheduling a Girls Only Pre-Prom Preparation gathering, completely with slumber party.

"Where are you off to?" he asks, standing.

"I've got to put my books away at my dorm and then meet up with Zoey, Lola, Lisa and Rebecca at the little boutique on campus," she explains, watching Logan's face show distaste so she places a hand on her hip. " – unless you'd like to come along – "

"Quinn, you're my girlfriend. You're not supposed to torture me like that. That's sick and wrong."

Behind her glasses, she rolls her eyes with mock annoyance and presses her lips to his cheek, "I'll text you later. Most likely, when we get back. Michael and James need to know what corsages to buy for their girlfriends."

"Spare me the details."

Quinn smiled genuinely and wrapped her arms around her boyfriend, "No promises, baby."

She, however, promises to spend more time with Logan much later.

And then there's prom which goes on into the wee hours of the night, after-party included.

VI. June

At any given time, he will merely scoff and proclaim, "God, the whole yearbook thing is completely stupid. There's always next year."

Usually, that's followed by a heated debate – argument in actuality – about whose autograph the world will want more. It's pretty typical that Logan expects Quinn silently scold him, and attempt to restore some kind of silence to the hang out space – wherever that may be at the time.

And it's the routine until Logan realized there will be no more "next years", so he actually gets into the whole yearbook thing for the last time, since there will be no more chances to argue with Michael, make stupid but legitimate bets with Dustin. Rabbits will adapt to guacamole if not salsa.

So, in the days between prom and the day before today – Graduation Day, and the first of June – he finds himself paging through the pages of his PCA yearbook in a way that looks like he'll actually miss the place and everyone he's come to actually acknowledge as friends but enough so it's not like he's going to go soft.

And with Chase and Logan, he thinks of them as brothers. It's hard not to when there's six years of consistent rooming between the three of them.

There's a really dumb and embarrassing secret handshake between the three of them, only performed when they need to, in Michael's own words and thankfully not his, "Super Secret Dude Swear".

Don't tell anyone but Logan sorts of likes that.

Lisa is probably the best friend he can have, because they click and mesh so well. He loves her – not that way because he's too into Quinn for that, but yeah, Logan loves Lisa in that friend way.

And he'll miss the PCA craziness when he's at Berkeley.

His girlfriend is the valedictorian and with the title of being Quinn's boyfriend comes bragging rights.

Total and complete, unrated bragging rights.

Don't tell anyone but he hates that the line gets shorter and shorter, and that his stomach is doing knots. He hates that the stupid purple gown and the cap that is totally ruining his awesome hair.

"Logan Reese."

Ready, set, graduate.

Logan walks across the stage and he notices little things: his parents actually tolerating each other to get along and share quiet moments of friendliness, even Malcolm is multitasking with a camera.

His friends are totally cheering for him, blending with everyone else's.

And Quinn's wide grin with complete unadulterated happiness radiating from her when he gets off the stage is enough to make him realize that it's okay.

Throwing his arms around his neck, Logan picks her off the ground just a little while she giggles.

"I'm proud of you," Quinn whispers, cradling his face, and inevitably giving him a short and chaste kiss.

Logan won't outwardly admit it, but he's proud of himself too.

A/N: So, it looks like I've been MIA, but I've been hard at work with this for Feb 24, which is Quogan Day. I decided to split it into two parts because it was getting too long, even for me. But rest assured, I will have the second part done but the mentioned date. I just hope you appreciate this as much as you did the original. But I like this version better. It's neater and organized and I know where I'm going to actually take it. So please give me your most honest feedback on how I did. I tried, I really did. If you look on my profile, I have a new oneshot out, so I lied. I'm in the process of planning my second Zogan piece.

I'm also doing another Chola. I've honestly tried to write Choey, but sadly, I've lost the motivation to write that. I probably won't do it for a couple weeks. Sorry. I don't hate them, but god, my Choey love is disappearing and fast. It's that whole predictability factor for me, I guess. Feel free to agree/disagree. But it's how I feel. I can't change that. Feel free to PM and we'll talk, yes?

I have a Misa oneshot planned as well.

That's it. I'm off to shower and eat, and then get ready for school tomorrow after a three-month strike has been declared over. So, yeah, review honestly.

-Erika