Happy Quogan Day!! I realized that it was Quogan Day and I hadn't written a one-shot like I had planned to, so I wrote this today. I hope you enjoy it, but please review even if you hate it.

I do not own Zoey 101.

If That Bench Could Talk

5:20 A.M.

She sat upon the wooden bench where they had agreed to meet. They had been seeing each other in secret for a month now, and he still hadn't learned to show up on time. The bench sat right out in the open where anyone could see them, which was why they'd agreed to meet at 5 A.M., when there was no chance that anyone else would even be awake.

She sighed and rubbed her pale shoulders. She had a naturally high body temperature, which meant that even in California, February mornings were chilly to her. The strapless sundress she wore for him was apparently a waste, since he didn't even have the courtesy to show up on time to meet for their one month anniversary date. Maybe he'd forgotten at which bench he was supposed to meet her? She didn't even want to think about that. She told him to meet her at the spot where they'd had their first kiss. If her boyfriend couldn't remember where they'd shared their first kiss, they'd definitely have a problem. She cringed at the thought of him waiting for her in some other spot on campus where he'd kissed some other girl.

And the bench that had seen her cry a month before that day, heartbroken by another boy, now watched her worry that it might be broken again.

5:25 A.M.

It occurred to her that most of the stores nearby didn't open before 5 A.M. In fact, the only flower shop near PCA always opened at exactly 5:30, and not a minute sooner.

It was their one month anniversary. Of course he wanted to bring her a gift. After all, she'd made him one. She toyed with the ribbon that was tied around the small package she held in her lap, hoping that he'd show up soon. Hoping that he hadn't forgotten about her.

And the bench that had seen her hoping that a boy would want to take her back a month before, now watched her waiting, hoping that she was not losing another boy she loved.

5:28 A.M.

When the silver JetX pulled up beside the bench, her expression was no longer one of uncertainty, but one of pure anger. When he parked his JetX and sat down on the bench beside her, she tossed the package at his lap.

"Here. It's a mix C.D. I didn't know what to get you," she stated without emotion. "Guys are hard to shop for. Rich guys are harder to shop for."

He flashed her his hundred-watt smile and replied, "You know, telling me what you got me before I unwrap it sort of defeats the purpose of wrapping it."

Instead of replying, she simply crossed her arms and stared straight ahead, trying not to think about how handsome he looked in his faded blue jeans and buttoned-up navy blazer.

"Quinn, is everything all right?"

"It would be if you'd been here—" she checked her watch for dramatic effect, "—twenty-nine minutes ago."

"But I thought we were supposed to meet at five thirty."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from him so she didn't have to look at his brown eyes. One glance into them and she'd be his once again, and right now, she just wanted to be mad at him.

And the bench that had seen her turn away from him in disgust a month before now watched as she looked everywhere but at him, trying to stay angry at him.

5:34 A.M.

He stared at the C.D. case in his hands labeled, "The Quinn and Logan Mix—FOR YOUR EARS ONLY".

"This is a great gift," he told her, in attempt to get her to look at him again. "It's way better than anything you could have bought at a store."

"You know, I actually thought that maybe the reason you were half an hour late was because you were at some store somewhere trying to get me a gift. Because I thought maybe you cared about this as much as I did."

"I did get you a gift," he said, fishing through the pocket of his blazer to find it. He pulled out a rectangular box and set it down on her lap. "And I didn't need to buy it this morning. I got that for you a week ago."

She lifted the lid of the box to reveal a necklace, black onyx on a sterling silver chain. It was simple, but beautiful, and undoubtedly the most expensive piece of jewelry anyone had ever given her. If he thought this was going to get him off the hook, he was sorely mistaken. Still refusing to look him in the eye, she put the lid back on the box and handed it back to him.

He lifted the lid back off of the box and pulled out the delicate silver chain. "Let me put it on you," he insisted.

With a sigh, she obediently lifted her long, curly hair. He fumbled with the clasp and clumsily fastened the necklace on her slender neck. When his hand brushed her pale skin, she couldn't help but shiver.

"You cold?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

She nodded, finally turning her head to look at him. Of course, it was true that she was a bit chilly, but that wasn't the reason she shivered.

"Here," he said, unbuttoning his blazer. But instead of taking off the jacket for her, like she expected him to, he left his arms in the sleeves and pulled open the front of the blazer to make room for two. Finally surrendering, she smiled and leaned back against his chest. He wrapped the blazer around her goose-bumped shoulders, and then pulled a folded-up piece of paper from the pocket.

"What's that?" she asked.

"The note you slipped me in class on Friday," he replied.

He unfolded the note for her to read, and she immediately recognized the message. Written in her handwriting in bold letters was the message, "Meet me at OUR SPOT at 5:30 A.M. on Tuesday."

She blushed furiously. "Oh, Logan. I am so sorry."

He smiled and pulled the blazer tighter around the two of them. "It's okay, Quinn. If you didn't get mad at me for no reason every so often, how would I know you care?"

She laughed. "You're a jerk, you know that?"

And the bench that had seen him comfort her a month before now watched as he protected her from the cold, and made her smile in a way that no one ever had before.

6:48 A.M.

"You know, we can't sit here like this forever," she murmured.

"Why not?" he asked, burying his face in her thick brown hair.

"Because pretty soon people will be getting up to eat breakfast, and they're bound to know we're dating if they see us sharing a jacket."

He groaned. "Why do you have to be right?"

He loosened his hold on her and she sat upright.

"Here, keep this," he said, taking off his blazer and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Logan, I can't wear your—"

"No one will know it's mine. Besides, it looks good on you."

"And who should I tell everyone it belongs to when they ask me why I'm wearing a guy's blazer?"

"Tell them your cousin lent it to you when you visited your aunt for Christmas break."

"And the necklace?"

"A birthday present from your dad."

"Are you sure they'll buy it?"

"Trust me," he said. "The only one who will know about us is this bench, and it's not talking."

And the bench that saw them share their first kiss a month before watched as they shared one more before going their separate ways. Their secret was safe.

This was nothing like my last fic, but I hope you liked it anyways. Thanks for reading my first one-shot. Please review.

~Bubbles