Okay guys, here I am... With the last chapter! Yup, this is the end... at least until I start on Missing You. However, I think that will be a little while. Definitely most of the week, because my exams week starts Monday, so I'll be busy studying/actually taking the exams. But then I get a really long winter break, so I should write MY faster than this one, once I start it. :)

Also... Well, I'm a little nervous about this one. I've tried to be realistic throughout this series, and I've been told that I did a good job, which I'm glad to hear. So I'm just a little nervous about some people not approving of the way I end, even though I personally like it. But please do comment on that. :)

Also, those of you to which I have not yet responded to your reviews of the last few chapters, have no fear: I'm getting started on that (and hopefully finishing it) tonight.

Alright, folks. This is it. Enjoy!

Anonymous Review Responses:

Sara-san: Yup, two chapters, all right! I'm really glad you liked them. :) Heh, comic genius, eh? My ego's getting a kick out of this review. Aww, I dunno if he's *scared* of the dog... Just... reasonably cautious. I have a big dog too, they ARE sweet. :) And thanks for saying it was cute... :)

Rererereviewer: Thanks, glad to hear it!


I woke up with the headache to end all headaches… okay, so it really wasn't that bad. It had certainly worn off a little, which made sense, seeing as I woke up in the hospital, a day later.

Yeah, that's right. Some lady clonked me on the head with a mixing bowl and I missed out on all the action. I'm tough, all right.

When my eyes opened, my mom was right there, smiling at me. "Rob, honey," she said lovingly, "if you ever get yourself landed in a hospital again because you lied to me, your head is going to be the least of your worries."

All in the same sweet, 'oh, yay, you're awake' tone of voice. My mother is a strange, scary woman.

"Hi Mom," I grinned, and she relaxed a little, coming over and grabbing my hand.

"How are you, Rob, does your head hurt?"

"Nah," I shook it, ignoring the faint twinge. I'm tough, dammit! I might get taken out by some farmwife, but I am not going to complain about my head hurting.

Mom eyed me. "Uh-huh. Should I call a nurse, or is it passing?"

Stupid motherly abilities to see right through me. I hereby curse them. "Nah," I said again, honestly this time, "I'm okay. Mom, is Jess – "

Mom smiled at me. "Jess is fine, Rob. She was right here when you started to wake up. She'll be back in a minute."

I raised my eyebrows, confused. Not that I think Jess is too insensitive to give me some time alone with my family – it's just, well…

I cleared my throat, and asked Mom to pass me some water.

We were joined not too long after by both of my uncles, and Gary, which was an interesting experience. For one thing, it was my first time seeing Gary since my 'talk' with my mom about how I was acting towards him, and so I was trying to uphold my promise and be nicer to him – but I did have a headache, and besides, my uncles were there. And they were my mom's brothers, and were having a very amusing game of 'subtly/not so subtly (depending on the uncle) tease/test/mock Gary'. It was hard not to join in.

Of course, then they got bored with it – or, actually, Mom's death glares probably got to them – and they decided to mock me instead, going for my biggest weak spot, mocking-wise: Jess.

They hadn't even asked how I was doing. Seriously, shame on them both. They're grown men!

…God, I love my family.

Then my mom caught my attention, saying, "Oh. Here she is!"

I looked up and saw Jess by the door. I couldn't help smiling at her immediately. "Hi," she said, walking closer to my bed.

I looked her up and down, just making sure that she wasn't hurt. Really. Not checking out her skirt, or anything. Just checking to make sure if she was okay. I mean, she looked, uh – more than okay, but you never know.

"Well," Randy said, "What say we check out this cafeteria I've heard so much about, eh, Mary?"

Yeah, he's the non-subtle one. He's also the one who decided to get married on Christmas Eve, and make me get the Icy Glare of Doom from my girlfriend. And get fitted for a tux.

At the mall.

I'm just a little peeved at Randy right now.

"Oh," Mom said, not very subtly herself, "yes, lets." Then she gathered up Gary and Randy and Earl – who shot me a wink – and left the room, closing the door with a definite click behind them.

Well, they'd practically told me to kiss her! So, you know, I was perfectly within my rights to do so. For a long time.

…A really long time.

Look, I was just glad she wasn't dead, okay? And the skirt didn't help.

"Rob," Jess said eventually, lifting her head from my shoulder, where she'd been laying it after we stopped kissing for a breather, "I have to tell you something."

Well, crap. That sentence is one of the most dreaded for any human male to hear, coming in close after, We have to talk. I decided to just cut her off at the pass, so to speak.

"I didn't ask you," I told her, "because I didn't want you getting in trouble with your parents."

Jess blinked at me for a moment. "What are you talking about?"

I shrugged. "Randy's wedding." Duh. Annoying 'romantic' uncle, making problems for the rest of us. "It's on Christmas Eve. No way are your parents going to let you go out on Christmas Eve. So you'd just have ended up lying to them, and getting in trouble, and I don't want that."

Ouch. Personal.

But did Jess care? Oh no. Here I'd just bared my – well, not my soul, but at least my reasoning, and all she did was roll her eyes and say, "Rob. Get over yourself. That's not what I was going to say."

Just when you think you know a person… I couldn't think of what else she'd been going to say. Something about my probation again? I'd been hoping that my little speech up in the woods would have put her off that topic of discussion, at least for a little while.

"It wasn't?" I asked, "Then what?"

"Besides," Jess shook her head. "My parents would so totally let me go out on Christmas Eve. We don't do anything on Christmas Eve. It's Christmas Day that we do church and present opening and a big meal and everything."

While an interesting look into the inner workings of Jess's family's holiday traditions, that wasn't really the point at the moment. "Fine," I said, beginning to feel a little irritable. I blame the head wound. "But don't tell me that you'd tell them the truth. About being with me, I mean. Admit it, Mastriani. You're ashamed of me. Because I'm a Grit."

Holy hell, where had that come from? I mean, I know where it came from, but why did I say it? I mean, directly like that! It was a very stupid thing to say. Plus now I felt kind of vulnerable. And, you know, that was basically another way of admitting that I – almost – loved Jess back. And what with the way she somehow managed to garner my mom's seal of approval and scrapes up dates with me without me even doing anything, or tells me that she loves me to keep me from breaking up with her – well, I just knew that she would instantly figure out all second, third, and even fourth levels of meaning in that statement, all conveniently interpreted as declarations of my feelings.

But for once, Jess didn't do anything of the sort. Instead, she glared right back at me, and countered my accusation with one of her own. "That is not true," she said fiercely, "You're the one who's ashamed of me! Because I'm a Townie. And still in high school."

I gaped at her. I mean, well, that was just ridiculous. Me, ashamed of her? Because she was a Townie? Had she even heard what I'd just said?

No Grit would ever be ashamed of dating a Townie. It just doesn't work that way. They get ashamed of us. Sure, I might have acted a little weird, a little bit ashamed, when I first brought her down to Chick's, or something, and maybe some of the other guys gave me the whole are-you-crazy-she's-a-Townie speech, but we never really meant it. If anything, it was more defensive; a defensive mechanism against the usual Townie taunts and snobbery. But, deep down, all of us – even, to some extent, me, I'm ashamed to admit – would be proud to go out with a Townie. It's like a bragging rights.

It's sick. I know that. Just another example of how messed up this town is, screwing with our brains like that. Especially when any Townie that would ever go out with a Grit (minus Jess) would probably just be 'slumming', anyway. And yet, it was something we would get proud about. Because it meant that someone had looked past the prejudice for a little bit. Looked past it, and seen that really, us Grits aren't so bad. Not so unsophisticated, not so criminal, not so stupid.

Well, okay, there are exceptions (cough-Hank Wendell-cough).

But the point still stands. We'd be proud of that, no matter what we said. And if we weren't proud because the Townie saw us for who we really were, then we'd be proud that, despite all they said, the assholes were still attracted to us. It was like a revenge. You know, 'you might cross the street when I'm walking up it towards you, but you still like to watch me in gym class' or whatever. Although, now, it would be more, 'fixing your car' than 'in gym class'. But that's not the point.

The point is, somehow Jess had completely misinterpreted the situation. Somehow, she'd gotten our roles mixed up, and thought that I was ashamed of her, and I had no idea why.

I mean, really. Who had brought her to Chicks, introduced her to his friends? Had her over for Thanksgiving dinner with his mom? Held conversations with her in his workplace, in full view of all his co-workers and his boss? Me. As opposed to her, never introducing me to her parents; any of her family, actually. And The Bitch only knew me because of the psychic thing and her stupid brother, Skip. And, of course, let's not forget that Jess had taken a picture on Santa's lap, in the mall, in full view of tons of people who would never let her forget it, just to avoid her mother possibly recognizing me.

And I was ashamed of her?

Still… she sort of had a point. Just not with the Grit/Townie thing. But, the age issue… well, it was a little embarrassing. Especially since I could get in some big trouble for it, even though it was kind of stupid. I mean, we were only two years apart. But in high school, and probably the next few years after that, someone being just two years older (or younger) than you can make a world of difference.

So… "I will admit," I admitted to Jess, "that the fact that you're still in high school kind of sucks. I mean, it is a little weird for a guy my age to be going out with a sixteen-year-old."

Jess looked disgusted. "You're only two years older than me, nimrod."

Hey!

I couldn't really take offense at the whole 'two years' thing, seeing as I had just been thinking how stupid that was myself, but I could certainly contest 'nimrod'. And I did.

"Whatever," I said, moving my arms to massage her shoulders. "Look. Do we have to talk about this now? Because in case you didn't notice, I've suffered a head injury, and calling me a nimrod is not making me feel any better."

Of course, I said this (and started the shoulder-massaging thing) with the goal of resuming certain activities that did make me feel better, on mind. Not that I need to guilt Jess into kissing me. It was just fun.

Well, it would have been, had she fallen for it. But she didn't. Of course, it did make her guilty, but instead kissing me again, she just bit her lip. "Well… What I'm about to say probably isn't going to make you feel better."

Great. "What?" I asked cautiously. By this point, I'd just given up entirely on trying to figure out what she wanted to talk about beforehand.

Which was probably a good thing, because I'd never have expected what she said next.

"Your dad." Jess looked very guilty. "I saw a picture of him in your mom's room, and I know where he is."

Well. Crap. Guess the game was up. I mean, now that Jess knew – I mean… Well.

This sucked.

"Oh," was all I said, but it prompted her to start babbling nervously.

"I didn't mean to pry, really." Jess assured me – and for once, can you believe I actually believed her? I'm serious, I did. "I mean, I totally didn't do it on purpose. It's just, like I said, I saw his picture, and that night I dreamed about where he is. And I will totally tell you, if you want to know. But if you don't, that's fine, too, I will never say another word about it."

I couldn't help but chuckle a little. I mean, I don't know why Jess assumed I wouldn't know – but her anxiousness over it was kind of cute.

Okay, fine, I find my girlfriend cute sometimes. What're you gonna do, strip me of my 'manly' license? I'm still a mechanic who drives a motorcycle.

"Mastriani," I told her, "I know where he is."

Jess's mouth dropped right open, and she gaped at me. "You know? You know where he is?"

"Doing ten to twenty at the Oklahoma Men's State Penitentiary for armed robbery," I said, nodding. "Real swell guy, huh? And I'm just a chip off the old block. I bet you're real eager to introduce me to your parents now."

Well, I hadn't meant to sound so bitter about it, but whatever. It was how I felt. And, you know, that might've been why Jess was so worried about me meeting her mom at the mall. That would have been after she'd had the dream, assuming that she'd seen a photo of my dad during Thanksgiving dinner, which was the only logical time she could have.

"But that's not what you're on probation for," Jess said, very fast. I was a little touched that she was so sure, since she really had no reason to be. "I mean, something like armed robbery. You don't get probation for stuff like that, they lock you up. So whatever you did – "

"Whatever I did," I interrupted her, suddenly feeling not so amused. I don't particularly like talking about my dad, and the probation thing was way old by now, "was a mistake and isn't going to happen again."

I let go of her arms and crossed my hands behind my head, avoiding Jess's eyes. This whole conversation was really striking a little too close to home.

"Rob," I heard Jess say, "You don't think I care, do you? I mean, about your dad? We can't help who our relatives are. I mean, if I don't care that you were arrested once, why would I care about – "

And it was right about there that I snapped. I don't know what it was that prompted it. Maybe it was the whole conversation leading up to it, or the fact that I was currently lying in a bed wearing only a hospital gown, or that I was still annoyed by having been knocked out by the bigot Betty Crocker and lay unconscious while Jess was left alone in a barnful of her friends, or something else entirely, but I just snapped.

"You should care," I told Jess, "Okay, Mastriani? You should care. And you should be going out on Saturday nights to dances, like a normal girl, not sneaking into secret militia enclaves and risking your life to stop psychopathic killers…"

Following this outburst, I kind of sank back into the pillows, a little exhausted. But Jess didn't care. I had made Jess angry.

"Yeah?" she asked, "Well, guess what? I'm not a normal girl, am I? I'm about as far from normal as you can get, and you know what? I happen to like who I am. So if you don't, well, you can just – "

I stopped her there, pulling my arms out from behind my head and grabbing her arms again, because, well, she had a pretty good point. I mean, that had always been what I liked about Jess, after all. That she wasn't normal. "Mastriani."

"I mean it, Rob," Jess snapped, struggling to get free. "I mean it, if you don't like me, you can just go to – "

"Mastriani," I said again, and this time I dragged her face down close to mine, to get her attention. And also to prepare for what I was about to do next. Because I kind of lost all intelligent, and not head-over-heels-for-Jess, brain matter at some point. Which was why I then told her, "That's the problem. I like you too much."

And then, I pulled her down the last inch or so, until we could resume the highly pleasurable, less-thought-involved activities of before.

Yeah, that I'm definitely blaming on the head wound.

Jess pulled away from me suddenly not long after, though, when we heard the door open, and a shocked female voice go, "Oh! Excuse me!"

Jess, after scooting off me and standing up, smiled at them casually. "Oh, hey, Douglas. Hey, Tasha."

I, on the other hand, hadn't really recovered from the kissing session yet, so my "Hey," was a little bit weak. Which kind of sucked, since I knew Douglas was her eldest brother, and I probably wasn't making such a great impression.

"Hey," the girl next to him said, catching my attention. I'd never seen her before, but it was easy to guess who she was. The Thompkinses were the only African-American family here, after all, and Nate's shy sister Tasha was briefly mentioned in the article in the paper about his death. I wondered what she was doing here with Doug – yeah, I know I don't know the guy, but saying the full name Douglas just doesn't work for me. I like Doug better; I can at least call him that in my head if I want.

"Jess," Tasha said, "I just… I came to apologize. For what I said the other night. My father told me what you did – you know, about catching the people who did… that… to my brother, and I just…"

"It's okay, Tasha," Jess reassured her. "Believe me."

I couldn't help but add my own comment, trying to put her at ease a little bit. You couldn't really help but like her. "Yeah," I smiled. "It was a pleasure. Well, except for the part where I got hit with a mixing bowl."

"Mashed potatoes."

"Mashed-potatoes bowl, I mean," I joked, and Tasha, despite looking a little bit freaked out by Jess and I, seemed a little more relaxed.

"Really," Jess told her. "It's okay, Tasha. I hope we can be friends."

"We can, Tasha said, tears in her eyes. "At least, I hope we can." She and Jess hugged, and while they were hugging, I noticed Jess whispering something in her ear.

When Tasha pulled away, she looked a lot happier. "Oh," she said, grabbing Doug's hand. "I won't. Don't worry."

The look of insane worry on Jess's brother's face was almost comical. "You won't what?" He asked worriedly. "Jess. What'd you say to her?"

"Nothing," Jess employed her famous nothing-face, sitting down on my bed next to me. It looked like her brother didn't buy it any more than I did.

But before he could say anything, a voice behind him said, "Knock knock," and a stream of people flowed into my room.

Jess's dad, her mom, her other brother, The Bitch, and Skip, as well as Claire – who I remembered from all the drama practices in detention, and who, if I remembered it right, was Jess's brother Mike's girlfriend.

Yeah, this was awkward. Also, how had everyone gotten my room number? They obviously weren't here to visit me. And judging by Mrs. Mastriani's reaction when she saw me, she hadn't even known I was here, which begged the question, who did they think Jess was visiting? Please not Joanne.

"Just stopped by to see if you wanted to grab a bite over at the restaurant…" Mrs. Mastriani's sentence trickled off, and she stopped and stared, as she recognized me again.

Shit-crap-dammit.

But then... something happened. I'd go so far as to call it a miracle. "Mom," Jess said, smiling, and not moving away from my side. "Dad. Glad you're here. I'd like you to meet my boyfriend, Rob."

Just like that. And, to sound incredibly corny in a million different ways, when I spun my head to look at her – pulling a muscle in my neck while I was at it, I moved so fast – I swear everything else in the room had just melted away. I wasn't even aware that the rest of the people in the room were in the room, let alone what their reactions to Jess's pronouncement were. Of course, I recovered, and when I did, I was very polite and very, very aware of all of them – from The Bitch's stunned face to Skip's crushed one, to Mike and Claire's shocked and slightly amused ones, to Doug and Tasha looking worried, and worst of all, Jess's mom, her mouth flapping in shock and obvious horror; Mr. Mastriani was surprisingly calm about it – but for the moment, I'd forgotten all about them.

I guess it's appropriate to end this story with an epiphany. I've had a couple others along the way, but as this was happening, I knew that it blew all the others out of the water. They were nothing compared to this.

It was stupid. Just me opening my eyes.

One step.

I looked at Jess, and took it.

I was there. My confusion was finally cleared up, and suddenly I was more determined than I'd ever been, because it had finally dawned on me just how much caring for Jess 'too much' was.

Aw, forget too much. Just – forget it. Too much, nothing.

Because it was suddenly painfully clear that Jess really did love me, really wasn't ashamed of me, and, oh yeah, one more thing.

That I loved her too.

Yeah. That's all it took. Her telling her parents about me. It was all I needed to realize what was going on here, what's still going on, what will hopefully be continuing to go on until I die.

I mean – I mean. We're in love with each other.

Jess and me.

We're in love.

And even if I'm not quite ready to admit it out loud – I have some issues in that area, I'm beginning to think – I know it's true. God, I don't think I've ever been so sure of anything in my life.

Jess said that, and I just turned and looked at her and thought, I'm in love with her.

And that's that.