It's late, and I'm bored, so... I'm gonna do something REALLY crazy.

I know I said that Homecoming was gonna be the sequel to Sweet Misery, and all, and I was going on and on (well, at least to poor Ching) about how I wish I could just STOP everything and post it... so... In the midst of my explicit highness tonight (I was watching the Simpsons again—its the boy band episode!—so that's not such a surprise) I just stopped (doing my math homework) and started thinking: Well, they don't relate together THAT much.

I mean…there's hardly any info or detail at all in Homecoming that suggests it happens after Sweet Misery. Well, besides the beach scene (SPOILER ALERT).

So I decided to do it. Post Homecoming, I mean. Not my math homework (which remains unfinished) or…anything else.

And…here it is. The object of my writing affection. The only thing that I'm really proud of, besides…well…nothing, really.

The one thing that has kept me occupied throughout Biology (I and II) this school year.

….HOMECOMING.

For Ching.

Because a promise is a promise.

Chapter one: Entropy

I didn't see the palm trees.

Which to me; was really weird. I mean, I'm not stupid or anything. I know that palm trees don't grow everywhere—but I swear to God, the last time I came here; they were all over the place. So I got a little nervous, when I couldn't see any from the plane.

Well, what happened was, as we were starting to land—and I still hadn't glimpsed any of those damn palm trees—with a burst of concern, I jumped up from my seat, calling to the flight attendant as she strolled down the ale way, "Miss! Miss! I think I have the wrong plane!"

Some would prefer that I full-on freaked out.

Either way, I ended up looking like a complete idiot when the stewardess turned around, and said, in this high metallic voice, like nails on a chalkboard, or something, "Sit down, young lady." And walked away.

Just like that, she walked away.

And so I did, 'sit down', I mean. Fortunately I managed to do so without slipping, though I was still studiously avoiding the gazes of the passengers around me, who were snickering quite a bit. But inside, I was fuming.

I mean, what sort of I didn't know anything until Chris turned around from the seat in front of me and said, "Relax, Hunn. It's okay."

I gave him a very peeved look. "No, it's not okay. What flight is this? Are you sure this is the 149 to Monterey?"

Chris looked at me with what could only be described as pity. "Yes, Suze. Now will you calm down? Everything is going to be fine."

Which, of course, was easy for him to say. Chris was, like usual, extremely mellow. He wasn't, like most boyfriends, the least bit worried about meeting my parents. And why would he be? He was perfect, in the truest essence of the word.

He had the highest GPA at NYU, he was graduation with honors in the spring, and if that weren't enough, he had been admitted early acceptance to Brown and Shultz, one of the most prestigious law firms in the whole of Boston. He was, all in all, my mother's dream boyfriend for me. Plus he was good-looking.

What he thought he was doing, exactly, going out with a girl like me, I was going to leave to him to figure out. Because he had said he loved me—which was excruciatingly romantic—on the last day before summer. And I was happy. He was exactly what I needed to forget.

At least, until he suggested he go home with me for the summer.

Then I said nothing. I mean, there really wasn't anything I could do. Not if didn't want him to doubt our relationship. If I didn't want him to think I wasn't ready for whatever it was he had planned for us. If I didn't want to lose him.

Though...it would've been the truth. I wasn't ready. Chris had moved forward, all right, but he had left me behind.

It was just...I don't know. I hadn't expected this to get so serious so fast. When I had met him, the first day of my freshman year, he was so carefree. It was nice. Smart, but not annoying. Good-looking, but not intimidating. He was everything that I needed to finally move on.

And I think he knew that.

He took it slow, as if he had sensed that there was a part of me that was still broken, that there was something that I needed to let go of.

He was... patient. Never ever pressured me. Never went too far, too fast. It was always a peck on the cheek. Or the tiniest, gentlest kiss on the lips.

And I loved it. Sure, it was sort of dull... but exciting at the same time. I didn't need things to move too fast after what had happened. I was still trying to pick up the pieces. Still trying to fix up the wrecking-ball damage that had been done to my heart.

I guess that's why I didn't notice when everything had changed. I was entangled in a relationship that I couldn't keep up with. As for me, those first three months gripped me; I didn't know how to let go. Every time he kissed me it was like a bolt of lightening; I never expected it, never knew how to respond.

I needed to move on, but I didn't know how.

Things were different now. I could sense it, even if Chris wouldn't tell me anything. I could tell by the way he'd been holding my hand lately, smiling at me whenever I took a glance at his face.

I could tell by the way that he told me he loved me; soft, gentle, his voice was filled with emotion.

And it scared me. More than anything.

— — —

We were getting off the plane when I felt like I couldn't breathe. My bag was getting heavier and heavier, from hanging on my shoulder. Chris was holding my hand, talking to me, something about Friday.

I kept looking around, feeling lost. The crowds of people around me were a blur. I knew we were waiting for my mom and Andy, waiting for them to pick us up and drive us up to the house, but right there in the middle of the crowd… I felt the sudden impulse to run.

It was just...I can't explain it. Like it was just all of a sudden--too much. I could feel the beads of sweat forming on my forehead, my heart was beating a thousand times a minute, Chris was talking, something about Friday.

"Come on," he said, "Suze. Let's get our luggage."

I didn't move. It was like I was paralyzed. Almost completely benumb with fear. The noises were louder and louder, I felt like I could hear every tiny detail, every action that took place. The footsteps of a stranger, the squeaking of a rolling suitcase.

"Come on," he said again. "Suze."

I couldn't do it.

I stared at him, my face blank, eyes completely expressionless, almost like I was staring at a stranger. I wasn't even really seeing him. I was seeing Jesse.

Jesse, and that time we were up on the roof. I had just finished explaining to him the situation with Michael and the angels. He was looking at me; I was just fidgeting with the tiles up there. The pine needles were poking me through the holes in my sweater.

And then he said it. "I like it much better this way."

I never asked him, what he meant.

And now it was too late.

"Suze."

I walked away. He was calling my name, over and over again. I picked up the pace. Then broke into a stride. I was running through the crowds of people, I had left my bag with Chris. He was calling my name. Everything, passports, credit cards…my identity was in that bag.

But I kept running.

I could see the exit; it's neon green sign glowing above the door. I saw it, and went for it. It wasn't that far. A few more steps and I'd be there. I ran faster, pushing my way through the hordes of people. It was close. There.

And I almost made it, if not for--

"Suze."

— — —

I stopped, dead. The voice was sweetly familiar, breaking me out of my daze and pulling me back down on my feet, back to certainty, to the kind of established order I had been seeking all these years.

There was only one person who could do that.

I turned around. "Gina!" I shrieked, and promptly threw my arms around her neck.

She stumbled back a little, surprised by my sudden outburst. "Whoa, there," she said. "Whatcha trying to do?" But not like she was mad or anything.

I let go, not at all embarrassed, I said, "That was payback, for all the letters you didn't send me."

Gina looked guilty. "Dude. My bad. It's just, you know, Jake's been having some trouble juggling school and the pizza place, so I've been helping out. I guess I never found the time."

Sleepy and Gina, much to Dopey's chagrin, were now officially a couple. An engaged couple, as a matter of fact. He had proposed to her in her freshman year of college, a few months after she had moved to California to attend No Cal.

The date for the wedding hadn't been set; all they knew was that there was going to be one. And considering how 'in love' they were, I wasn't about to object.

"Its okay, G. Just glad that you're happy."

She smiled. "Yeah. I guess I've finally settled down, huh?"

I nodded, taking in a good look at her. She was wearing a white cotton baby doll dress, complete with matching flip-flops and pink Dior bag (A/N: the one that Christina wanted for Christmas). Her hair was done up with a pink seashell clip, curling gently over her shoulders and giving her face the highly envied 'angelic' look. In the artificial light of the Monterey Airport, she carried the stance of an LA supermodel.

But then again, Gina always looked like a babe. That never changed. What was different was this strange glow in her eyes. They sparkled, wherever she looked. So serene, peaceful.

It was love. I knew it.

"So," she said, linking arms with me and dragging me over to where Chris was standing, looking over at us confusedly, "what's the rush?"

I cleared my throat uneasily. "Um," I croaked, "What do you mean?"

"Come on, I saw you, you were running like the world depended on it. Plus your face had the whole 'Jaws' look. It was not pretty." She turned and looked at me. Seriously, this time. Chris was only a few feet away.

"Simon, what gives? What's wrong?"

I could feel my face get hot. "Nothing," I muttered, "I was just looking for a bathroom."

She didn't believe me. It was obvious from the look on her face that she didn't believe me. And if that wasn't enough, the words she said next had to be, "Right…whatever. You're gonna explain it to me someday Simon, whether you want to or not."

We caught up to where he was standing, and I waved, somewhat nervously.

He rushed up to me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Suze, you okay? What's going on?"

"Oh," I said, "Ummm…I was just trying to catch up to Gina, she was walking pretty fast and…" my voice trailed off as I stared at him, nodding softly, as if to back myself up.

Chris just watched me. Sort of like he was realizing something about me that he hadn't noticed before. He tilted his head, lost in thought. But only said, "Oh."

I nodded. "Yeah."

And we just stood there…until the awkward silence was interrupted—thank God—by Gina, who cleared her throat, loudly. "So, Suze…aren't you gonna make any introductions?"

Aren't you gonna make any introductions? It was like being hit off the head with a frying pan, or something. All of a sudden I was aware—truly aware—of the situation. Chris. Gina. Introductions. Right.

"Chris…this is Gina…" I mumbled feebly, gesturing towards them each other, "Gina…meet Chris."

I don't know if Gina noticed my sudden discomfort over the matter, but if she did, she did an awesome job covering for me, taking Chris' hand in almost CeeCee-like manner and saying, very professionally, "Nice to meet you. I've heard wonderful things about you."

Chris smiled, the realization already long gone. To him, everything was back to normal. Back to that wonderful little world of his, where everything was perfect. "Same with you," he said.

"So," I said, my hands in my pockets—it was strangely cold, for the middle of July—"Lets get going. Shall we?"

Gina took me by the hand, linking arms with me. "Yeah, let's get cracking, it's almost—" she gazed down at her watch, "—six. And you how your stepdad is about dinner."

Then, stopping abruptly and looking over her shoulder she said to Chris, "Well? Aren't you gonna get the bags?"

I laughed, and sent Chris an apologetic look as he fumbled around with all five of our suitcases. "Here," I said, "let me take this one." I picked up my traveling bag as he tried, with not much success to get all four cases on the pull-away cart.

Gina shot me a disapproving look. "Dude," she said, "if you're gonna date this guy, you better train him." She stared down at the hot-pink bag hanging I slung over my shoulder, "and that means there is no way you should have to carry that."

I poked her playfully in the stomach. "Relax, G. He's not Jake." Then, thinking for a bit about what I'd just said, I added, "well, Jake when he's around you."

And it was true. There was only one word for Sleepy's behavior when he was around my best friend; whipped.

Gina smiled, "Well," she said, with a flourish of fake haughtiness, "that just means I'm doing my job."

I laughed, pulling her with me as we stepped outside the glass doors of the main entrance. I wasn't at all surprised as I felt the bright light of sun the hit us as soon as we stepped into the parking lot. I knew I had forgotten something.

And that something, I had realized, as soon as I set the three-inch heels of my Steve Maddens onto the pavement, was sunglasses.

Really. Sunglasses. Déjà vu.

"Don't worry, Simon. I brought you a pair." She handed me a pair of Ray Bans as she started towards the direction of the car. "I knew you'd forget something, traveling with Goofy over there." On the word Goofy, she turned around and gave Chris a very blatant stare.

"Hey!" I said, with some indignation, "He's not goofy, he's a very successful lawyer."

"Right," said Gina, "a 'very successful lawyer' who can't even pick up your bags without needing to be sent to the emergency room."

I looked over my shoulder towards Chris. Well, so maybe he was having a little trouble…

"I mean, jeez, Simon," she muttered tiredly, "and I thought things were bad with Jesse…"

I froze in my tracks.

"Stop it." I said, and this time there wasn't a trace of humor left in my voice.

Gina turned around and looked at me. "What? No need to be defensive, I mean, you weren't really going out with Paul, I guess."

Wait, what? I peered at her curiously, "Were you talking about Paul?"

Gina sighed, throwing her hands up. "Yes, Suze. I was." She reached out and stroked the length of my arm. "You're cold…who were you thinking of?"

I felt myself turn red. Oh, Lordy.

But I shrugged it off, and started walking very quickly. And I didn't even know where we were headed. I just wanted to get the heck out of there, as soon as possible. Of course, she said Paul. She hadn't meant Jesse; she knows not to bring up Jesse. Get a grip, Simon, before they send you to therapy again.

"No, really." Gina asked, as she jogged to keep up with me, "who were you thinking of?"

"No one, G." I muttered, "Just drop it."

And immediately I began running, my bag lobbing up and down against my shoulder as I pounded on the pavement, following the direction of Lot E.

— — —

"This," said Gina, as she drummed her fingers against the dashboard, "was so not how I pictured it."

I tore my eyes from the ocean we were passing—just in time to view the sunset, a sight I had not been graced with for so long—and gave her a questioning look. "What isn't?" I asked.

"This, you," she said, "we were supposed to be back at the house half an hour ago, right now we'd be sitting down to dinner, not—" She looked around, a look of obvious dissatisfaction on her face, "stuck in traffic in this damn hick town."

I sighed, and patted her on the back, "Gina, it's fine. It's not like we've never been through this before."

"I know, but it was your special day, you know, coming back to Coolifornia, finally seeing some kin again, not to mention your much-needed meeting with your favorite friend…"

I laughed. "Well," I said, throwing her an appreciative smile, "I can still do all that, even after a traffic jam. As hard as it may be to believe, Mrs. Ackerman, the day doesn't exactly end at sunset."

"Okay, fine," she said resignedly, "but don't call me that. We're not married yet."

A heavy silence passed through the 98' Volkswagen Gina drove as we flowed to yet another stop on the highway. I took this time to turn my attention once again to the view outside the window, breathing in the ocean air through the tiny crack in the window.

Just outside the car doors lay the most beautiful sight I had seen in two years, a glorious sunset, seeming to set the sky ablaze with a mixture of red and purple. On the other side of us where a mass of rolling foothills, spotted green and covered with tiny—at least, to us—cypress trees.

And that's when it hit me, completely out of nowhere; I don't think I remembered, just how much I missed this.

Whatever it was, this strange, contented feeling that could be experienced anywhere here, even under the roof of a car. The absolutely wonderful feeling that filled my lungs as I breathed in that first breath of misty air.

This, I realized, was what New York was missing. This was why I had come home.

And it didn't even matter—at least, not at the moment—where we were right then. I didn't even remember, that we were way behind schedule, that Gina thought my boyfriend was a dork, or that little mishap I had experienced back there in the luggage room.

That feeling, the one I was going through, was already enough for me at that moment. And as the traffic started up again, all I could do was revel in that feeling as we drove quickly by, admiring the little shops, the palm trees, all the little things I didn't think I would see again.

I sat in the front seat of that car with a beatific smile on my face—at least, right up until Gina turned the car around and pulled into the driveway of 99 Pine Crest Road, and announced to me in this cheerful voice,

"We're home."

Review?

Love Jessie.

P.S. Who saw One Tree Hill tonight?