A/N: I'm currently in the middle of writing two other stories from a completely different universe, yet I couldn't help myself about writing this story, especially when I started watching VM again and was reminded of the tragic romantic epic that is LoVe. This somewhat follows S 1-2 canon, but with a few tweaks: what if Veronica didn't grow up with the 09ers, but came into their lives prior to Lily's death? How would her presence affect Duncan, Lily, Logan, the Kanes, and the Echolls? Also, who is Veronica without Keith Mars' loving protection?

First Day of Junior Year

"Veronica, do not get kicked out of this school, do you hear me? Please hold your temper, I'm begging you," my mother furtively whispered into my ear as we sat waiting for the principal. "You'll break the court's agreement if you're expelled from here; this is literally your last hope."

The words burned like fingers of acid through my ear canal into my vulnerable brain, bringing with it a desire to set something on fire. Of course, setting fires was pretty much how we ended up in this beach resort shit-hole town in the first place, so probably not best to go with my first instinct.

"Yeah Ma, I got it."

She furrowed her brow at my tone, but couldn't respond to the snideness because the grand poobah himself walked through the door and sat behind the desk. He was a middle-aged well-kept man so naturally my mom straightened up and adjusted the fit of her dress across her chest. It's such an instinctive reaction to men, she's not even aware she does it. My eye flicked to the ring on his left hand and his gaze on her breasts: score one for Lianne Reynolds Mars Fulton.

Ten to one the cluster of frames in the upper right hand corner of his desk were of his loving wife and kids who'd find themselves turned face down sixty seconds after we walked out this door so he could rub one out to the statuesque vision that is my mom. Disgust for the male half of the species filled me and I tuned out most of their bullshit small talk, only snapping back to attention when Mr. Moorehead pulled out the bulging jacket of my student file.

Hey, when you're a "disenfranchised and disturbed young lady," as on admirer wrote in a psych eval, you pick up papers.

"So, Mrs. Fulton, this is Veronica's third school in three years." His long fingers flipped through a series of pages. "I see vandalism, destruction of school property, and arson are among many of her talents."

"Gotta play to your strengths," I smart-mouthed, managing to keep my grin through the sharp bite of my mother's inner thigh pinch. The damn woman knows exactly where to grab and twist for maximum pain.

"Yet for all this, she maintained a respectable three point four grade point average."

"I'm a genius, what can I say?" Well, technically my IQ score straddles the line, but what are a few points between friends?

Dull brown eyes assessed me sternly, disgust curling his lip back as he stared at my boho fashionable green army jacket over a white tank top tucked into a black skirt. I'm sure he wouldn't be surprised by my comfortably worn black army combat boots with big enough soles to boost me a few inches past five-one, my actual height.

"I see the copy of the judge's order stating this is your last chance before you'll be thrown into Juvie. I hope you understand the gift I'm giving you by accepting you into my school. Do not make me regret giving you this new opportunity."

I managed not to roll my eyes and nodded instead, ignoring the nauseatingly familiar stripper perfume wafting from my mother as she leaned forward in an effort to again show off her cleavage from the best angle while cocking her head slightly to the right. It was her patented "I'm cute, dumb, and wanna be full of your cum," look that most men fell for hook, line, and sinker. The principal was no different.

"Oh she does understand, Mr. Moorehead. I can promise you my daughter will be the best-behaved student at this school."

His air of authority dissolved in the sun of her focused being, another willing puppy slavering at her heels for her attention. I could almost admire my mom for how she handled men, but then it would mean admitting I had feelings for the woman beside anger and hatred, something I didn't see giving up for the foreseeable future.

"I will take a personal interest in her case and make sure she keeps on the straight and narrow."

I quietly snorted to myself, wondering if the "straight and narrow" was principal-speak for his penis. Nothing about men surprised me anymore, especially when my mother was involved.

"Now she should pick up her schedule from the front desk and go on before the next bell rings."

We were ushered out of his personal sanctum into the busy outer office and he pointed out where to pick up my new schedule. Lianne remained close to him, speaking about God knows what, so I walked up to the desk and waited for some kid named Wallace to appear.

As I leaned my hip against the counter, I let my gaze wander through the room, more out of boredom instead of real interest, and stopped on two boys sitting against the opposite wall, just outside Mr. Moorehead's office. The first boy, mouth motoring but obviously no one home upstairs, was blond, buff, and tan: typical California surfer. His companion, however, was different somehow, chocolate to the other guy's vanilla: tall, tan, blond streaked brown hair (artfully messy like he'd just rolled out of bed), and melting caramel brown eyes currently doing an x-rayed visual stripping of my own fine self with a sexy half-smirk turning up kissable lips.

Wait, what the fuck? Melting brown eyes? Kissable lips? Who the hell are you and why have you taken over my brain? Veronica Mars does not think boys are cute or sexy; she chews them up and spits out their bones if they dare enter her sphere. Now maybe I am as crazy as they say if I'm referring to myself in the third person while still staring at one of the hottest guys I've seen in this zip code yet.

"Earth to Mars, earth to Mars."

I whipped my gaze around to the snarky voice behind me, hating the little taunt. It never gets old.

"Yeah?"

"You're Veronica Mars, right?" This must be the missing Wallace. "I have your schedule if you want it."

I snatch the small neatly typed paper from his hand and stare down at it blindly, while trying to ignore the sizzling tension ratcheting my muscles as Chocolate boy stares at my ass. I've not been this fuzzled over a guy since...well...ever.

Naturally this is when Lianne decides to end her conversation and stroll over to me, her hips and breasts barely contained by the soft sweater dress she chose to wear.

"Honey, I'll pick you up after school," she purred into my ear, fully aware of every male eye on her. She leaned down as if to embrace me and I quickly step to the side.

"Yeah whatever."

Lianne frowned at me again, but silently let it pass. "Don't fuck up," she whispered just before sauntering out the door.

"Damn that some fine ass I'd like to hit, if you know what I mean." The tone is pure surfer so I know Vanilla is speaking even without looking. I can say what I want about my mother, but no one else can.

"No, I don't think we know what you mean. Why don't you pantomime it for those who can't read dick."

Obviously I had forgotten to turn on my brain to mouth filter for the day. I mentally slapped my forehead, but otherwise showed no reaction despite the almost comical widening of Wallace's eyes.

"How'd you know my name is Dick?"

"There's a Dick in every school."

Our little tete-tete was interrupted by the clearing of Mr. Moorehead's throat. He looked kind of red in the face, like he was about to burst something. "Ms. Mars I believe you need to get to English. Mr. Casablancas, Mr. Echolls, in my office already? Come in boys and explain how it wasn't your fault this time...again." The two boys quickly stood up and followed him into his office, the snick of the door abnormally loud in the suddenly silent room.

"What?" I snapped at Wallace, annoyed with the awed look in his eyes.

"Do you know who you just insulted?"

"Not really."

"That was Dick Casablancas." I shrugged. "His father is CEO of Casablancas Land Corporation, the biggest real estate company in California."

"So?"

"He's an 09er, and you insulted him in front of his best friend Logan."

"Again, why do I care?"

"Logan is Logan Echolls. His dad is Aaron Echolls, the two time Oscar winning actor and his mom is Lynn Echolls, the actress."

"Ohh." The light bulb blinked on for me as the names finally registered. I vaguely remember picking up a People one time and seeing a story spread done on the Echolls a few years ago. "I didn't realize they lived here."

"Yeah, and you get on their bad side and they'll blackball you to the entire school. You just killed your future here at Neptune High."

Gee, first day and already I made enemies. Score one for Veronica Mars.

"Now, where is Mrs. Lyle's English class?"