[Final chapter. Woohoo!]

Michael avoided me like the plague for the next week, or at least it seemed like it. I had been in the dream too long. It was hard greeting Michael in the limo every morning without a kiss or a hug. I missed him, and I had never really had him.

It was getting annoying, though. All my thoughts were on Michael, all the time. It wasn't like the crush I had had on Justin Baxendale (which, by the way, was long forgotten), because I knew Michael, and I loved him for everything he was, not just how he looked. Though that didn't hurt.

"Mia? Mia?" I turned to see Kenny, who was watching me anxiously as I daydreamed in Biology. Mrs. Sing had left to go watch Oprah in the teacher's lounge.

"Huh? What?"

He smiled. "You kind of spaced out."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's no problem. But I was wondering…"

"Yeah?" I dug through my purse for Tic-Tacs.

"Do you want to go to the movies with me tonight?"

The digging halted completely and I looked up at Kenny. "Um, okay."

What?! What is my problem? Okay, Kenny's nice and all. But I have a boyfriend!

A dream-boyfriend.

I am so pathetic.

But he looked so happy that I had accepted. It was then that I remembered that we had apparently dated in the dream. Was everything from that going to come true? I guess Michael was right, I am a visionary.

But does that mean he really loves me?

I'm so crossing my fingers.

Until he comes clean, though, I guess I'm going out with Kenny.

Crap.

The date was pretty uneventful. I mean, Kenny held my hand, and his was even sweatier and grosser than mine. Ew.

And he ordered me a meatball po-boy. I practically had to shout at the waitress as she went back to the kitchen. And then I nicely explained to Kenny that I'm not a fan of eating animals, to which he apologized profusely and changed his own order to a salad.

After the 'date', was over, we took the limo back to the Moscovitzes', where I was spending the night. He walked me up the door.

"So, uh, bye," I said, reaching for the knob. But before I could get inside, Kenny moved forward, fast as lightning, and managed to press his lips against my cheek, despite me jerking back.

"Bye," he smiled. I offered up a wobbly smile, waving until the elevator doors closed. I then breathed a sigh of relief. "Hot date, huh?"

I turned to see Michael leaning against the doorframe, shirtless as usual.

"Hot? No. Only his breath." Michael chuckled, but I felt a little ashamed of myself for making fun of Kenny.

"Lilly! Mia's here," he called, coming to sit on the couch beside me. Lilly entered the room and sat on the loveseat.

"What're you doing here, dorkus?" she asked Michael.

He shrugged. "I wanted to hear how Mia's little date with Showalter went."

I gave them all the gory details and Michael looked more and more amused as the tale continued. "What a dork," he laughed as I described the movie.

After I was done, Lilly turned to her brother, who was wiping his eyes and chuckling.

"You think you could do better?" she said, looking annoyed.

Michael smirked. "Definitely."

She smiled, folding her arms across her chest. "Tell us then, what would you do if you were on a date with Mia?"

His smile faltered. I waited anxiously. "Seriously?" he asked, chewing on his lip.

"You said you could be a better date than Kenny. Prove it."

He swallowed a little, his cheeks slightly pink. Then he turned to me, his face now masked over. "Fine. We'd go out to dinner, right? I'd get something with a lot of meat, like sausage pizza or whatever. And you…well, you'd get a salad or something vegetarian. I know how you are about that. Then I guess I would take you to a movie. My choice, until you begged me to bring you to the latest formulaic romantic comedy, during which I would try not to gag, for your sake."

I smiled at him, and he blushed for some reason. "Well," Lilly cut in. "What else? You were the one who said Kenny acted like a dope during the movie. How would you handle it?"

When had this turned into the Spanish Inquisition? I could almost see Lilly as one of those private investigators interrogating the suspect under a hot, white light. Michael was almost sweating himself. But he continued, seeming to enjoy himself a bit more. "I'd put my arm around you, like so. And maybe fall asleep because the movie you picked out was so stupid and boring."

I whacked Michael playfully in the stomach and he chuckled. "After that, we'd come back to the apartment to hang out. You'd probably be spending the night here like you always do…" I didn't comment on the fact that Michael's arm was still around me. It was too comfortable. Lilly didn't even have to prompt him this time, he just kept going, a little grin creeping across his face. "I'd get us some ice cream and we'd go watch a real movie in the den, like Rushmore. We'd probably get all cuddled up and comfortable…" I tried to ignore the fact that Michael Moscovitz, real Michael Moscovitz used the word 'cuddled', more specifically, cuddling with me. "But then you would come in, Lil, begging for attention or whatever."

Michael wasn't looking at me any more, just kind of staring off into space. "And she would bark at you to follow her, Thermopolis, and walk out of the room. You would turn to me before you left, though, and I'd wrap my arms around your waist, pulling you close to me. And you'd smile up at me and say something about having to go, but I wouldn't listen. I'd just press my lips up against yours, until you forgot about helping Lilly edit…until you forgot everything but...but...kissing me."

He still had that dreamy look in his eye, his arm curled around my shoulders. My heart was pounding as I wondered how acceptable it would be for me to grab Michael and kiss him right then. Suddenly, though, it seemed as if I were back in the dream. Back when Michael loved me.

Except I was fully awake, and he did love me. I was sure of it.

"You win," Lilly said, breaking the pregnant silence. "I have to admit that you'd probably be a better boyfriend for Mia than Kenny."

Most definitely. But Michael blinked several times, and looked at us both as if he'd just realized we were there. He yanked his arm back and ran a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. "I've got to go," he said in a strangled voice, hurrying out of the room. I heard his door slam and turned back to Lilly.

She was smiling at me strangely. "Don't you think you should follow him?"

She knew. She just had to. But had she known all along? Or had she been as clueless and stupid as me? I didn't have time for these silly questions. I jumped off the couch and walked to Michael's room, wringing my hands nervously as I ran through possible conversation starters in my head.

I knocked on his door and after a few seconds, he opened it a crack. "Oh. What do you want?"

"Can we, uh, talk?"

"No," he said, slamming the door.

But I persisted. "Michael!" I called, leaning against the doorway. "Please let me in. Please?"

God, I sounded desperate. But I was. Very much so. I turned around and slid down to the ground, just as the door opened. I fell backwards, looking up to see an upside-down Michael Moscovitz. Still beautiful.

I rolled over and stood up. "So, what's so urgent, Thermopolis?"

I stared at him, wondering how he could've changed back to annoying and uncaring so quickly. "Back in the living room, when you said…"

He cut me off, sensing what direction I was headed in. "Yeah, that was just to prove to Lilly that I'm better than Kenny."

"Why'd you have to prove it?"

I'd caught him off-guard and he looked down at the floor and shrugged. "I like proving Lilly wrong. It's fun."

"Oh," I said softly, wondering if maybe I had been wrong. I was turning to go when Michael spoke again.

"Did it sound like a good date to you?"

"Very," I smiled and his lip twitched.

"I'll keep it in mind, then." He opened his mouth and closed it then, before speaking again. "You know, for my other many girlfriends. Wherever the Moscovitz goes, there's always a crush of the ladies."

"Right," I laughed, my stomach plunging. His fingers brushed mine, and tingles shot through my arm. "You know that dream I was telling you about?"

"The one where you were dating your friend?" he said almost immediately, leading me to wonder how much he'd thought about it.

"Yeah, that's the one. You know who the friend was?"

"Kenny?" he suggested. I slipped my hand into his and laughed.

"Not a chance."

Our eyes locked and he shook his head. "B-but, no. You're joking, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't joke about this," I said, giggling nervously.

He swung our hands back and forth, and he watched them, as if being hypnotized by a pendulum. "So…"

"So…"

His face broke out into a gigantic grin and he stepped closer. "I might be bad at this," he laughed, before kissing me.

But it was even better than anything that had happened in the dream. And definitely anything that had happened with Josh Richter. Because it was real, a dream come true.

[So did anyone guess who we are? I'll tell you who we are: we're fantastic. And oh-so-humble. Haha. I'm just kidding. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. There will be another story from Schwartzibrow (not the wonderful two-piece band that plays a delightful mixture of bluegrass and rap, but the authors) coming your way shortly. I hope.]