WARNING : This is me ending Take Me Away. Do not fret, however, while Take Me Away will be completed – part 2, Overdrive, is nearly ready to publish. And I promise you this, Overdrive will be filled with even more (melo?)drama than before, with falling in love and being betrayed, rumors, back-stabbing, more history, arrivals, departures and 'the One' question being brought up. The name of this chapter actually has nothing to do with a song. My friend bought me Hilary Duff's album (I know, I pulled the same face when I saw it) and the last song was called 'The Last Song,' so it was really obvious that was the end of the album. I just thought it'd be nice to use it and for once, Hilary Duff could prove to be slightly useful.

At the end of Take Me Away and before the sequel begins, I will post a preview to Overdrive. I hope you all enjoyed Take Me Away, thank you so much for reviewing, especially my loyal r'n'r'ers (you know who you are - coughmrsloganreesecoughcoughzxxbsmsgirl3148cough – sorry, bad cold coming on there) and what can I say? It's been a pleasure.

In Dormitory 101, a sliver of light crept through the drawn curtains. The room was littered with clothes that for once, weren't only Nicole's. All around the room were empty tissue boxes, and discarded, wet tissues lay on the floor like a new carpet. The light hadn't been turned on. Zoey sat on the top bunk, her eyes red and sore from crying. She had retreated to the room and used more tissues within those three hours than she ever had in her life. Rebecca and Nicole had learnt to dodge Room 101 and hang at Michael, Logan and Chase's or Kristen and Dana's and return only to the now dark and depressed Dorm 101 when it was time to go to sleep. Occasionally, Zoey would cry herself to sleep, but then wake up when she began dreaming about what had happened. Sometimes, she pretended to be asleep, just to hear them, because when Rebecca and Kristen thought Zoey was asleep, they'd sneak in to get something they had forgotten, and talk in hushed whispers about Zoey and Chase, Art and Glen, if they hadn't discussed it outside. They also spoke in low, vehement hisses to each other, Kristen repeatedly saying "all of us?" "tonight? He told you tonight?" "but Nicole'll be pissed off too!" and "but…we can't…"

Knock knock.

Zoey stared curiously at the door. It couldn't have been Rebecca or Nicole, because they all had keys, and it couldn't have been CoCo, because sadly, she had a key too. Maybe it was Kristen? Now that Chase wasn't there to stop her, she might be standing outside the door, her ninja sword wielded in her hand, ready to get her revenge.

Knock knock.

No, Kristen wouldn't have knocked again. She would've kicked the door down, or stabbed her sword through it threateningly. If she had a sword, that is.

Knock knock.

She certainly was in no state to answer the door. She didn't have to look in the mirror but she knew her eyes were puffy and red, mascara-tinted and sore from crying – which obviously meant the hairbrush had been left untouched on the vanity table as well.

Knock knock knock.

"Zoey? Open up, I need to talk to you."

Zoey's heart began racing. She knew that voice, but surely, he didn't want to talk to her? After what he'd said?

"Zoey, open up right now or I'll get a key from CoCo and come in."

She sunk down on Nicole's bed, the soggy tissues around her like a feathered mattress.

Knock knock

"Come on Zo!"

She pulled the duvet over her head and closed her eyes.

The window began hammering with heavy rain and hail. The sky seemed to suddenly darken. For once, Zoey liked it not being sunny. The weather finally matched her feelings.

"Duuuuuude…." Harry watched Art sprint in, slamming the door shut loudly and pressing himself against it, panting heavily and looking exhausted, "chased by a swan?" He took Art's panting as a 'yes,' "Man I know how terrifyingly scary those things are. Petrified of them. One time, when I was five, I was feeding this one at the park and it started to go like 'quack' or 'honk' or whatever swans do. And then it came towards me, and I started running and I was thinking 'dude this swan's gonna kill me' and–"

"Harry," Nate panted, catching his breath, "shut…" pant, "…up. I was not…" pant, "chase by a…" gulp, "swan."

"Oh," Harry pulled a face, "but you won't tell anyone about my swan thing will you? People'll think I'm…sissy."

"I promise," Art clutched onto his sides, his face wincing in pain, "oh man, I've got a killer stitch. I haven't had one of those since I was coming back from injury during my first season," he blew air out his mouth roughly.

"Crap man," Harry eyed him nervously, "are you gonna die?"

Art shook his head.

"I was running from Lisa," catching his breath and bolting the door, he slowly made his way across the room, wincing with pain, and sat on his own bed.

"And?"

"She should really go for track." Art rubbed his side as he lay down, "she chased me into a rubbish bin man. I was running past the Ice Bean and I turned to check if she was behind me and she practically steered me towards this bit on the sidewalk and when I turned around I went head first into the garbage can. Lucky it was empty. I got up and barreled it behind me. I hope it flattened her, but I heard the familiar smacking of her stupid flip-flops not long after."

"Aw man!" Harry was now clutching his sides too as he wiped tears away from his eyes, "I wish I'd seen that!"

"Whatever," Art winced as he sat up, "I was lucky I only caught a little of this," he gestured towards the dripping window and then to his slightly rain-splattered shirt, "I thought as soon as I felt the rain 'hallelujah' cause Lisa's a serial-straightener, but I locked the door to Bradford hall so she couldn't come up, just incase."

The rain began to fall so hard it felt as though someone was tipping freezing cold buckets over Rebecca's head. Her dark hair clung to her face, her eyeliner and mascara had began to run, and her dress had soaked right through, sticking to her slim, shivering frame. She didn't know why she had decided to go see Logan, of all people. For some reason, after she ended the phone call with her father, she found the need to. She pressed her palms against the door. It didn't budge.

"Oh come on!" She cried, pushing harder, "Don't tell me it's locked!"

She rapped on the door with her knuckles angrily, looking hopefully through the windows. Nothing - no sign of anybody coming to the door, no sign of anybody responding and still, there she was standing cold and shivering outside his doorstep. Another sudden downfall of water came thundering downwards, a splash of water landed on Rebecca's head. It trickled right down her tanned, shapely legs, through her knee-length white socks and into her white Lacoste tennis shoes, her toes were numb.

What kind of stupid idiot locks the door to a dorm hall?

A bike shot past in the dark, it's wheels colliding with a great big, dirty, puddle. A cold wave of murky water went straight over her head, as it descended and splashed her with brown water (turning her tennis shoes a murky grey) she let out a shrill scream.

Immediately, the door flew open.

"Rebecca?" Logan peered at her, "Is that you, or the Drenched?"

"Both," she replied, her teeth chattering, "I've been knocking on this door for half an hour. Let me in."

She stepped inside, shivering so much it was like she was vibrating. Logan stared at her worriedly.

"Are you alright?"

"Why," Rebecca ignored his concern, "on earth is the door to Bradford Hall locked?"

"I think your brother was getting chased by that Lisa-Something," Logan guided her up the stairs, "and he ran in and locked the door so she couldn't follow him."

"I hate him," she said solemnly, shaking her head briskly, showering Logan with rain droplets.

"Oh, sorry," she blinked through a vat of inky eye-make up that was running down her face. It looked like she'd been crying.

"It's okay," Logan said, brushing his shirt, "we need to get you inside."

"I am."

"No, I mean in my dorm," he said sternly, showing her down a hallway, "you're going to catch pneumonia. Or hypothermia."

Rebecca smiled weakly.

As Logan fumbled for a key, he stole glances at Rebecca who was standing side-on, a step or so away. She looked like she'd risen from the ocean, every piece of material she had on was clinging to her body, looking like some sort of spray-on outfit. Her face was decorated by two, thick black stripes from her eyes down to her jaw line, but still the sapphire blue still sparkled through. Her hair was sleek and soaking, hanging down her back.

The door sprung open. He took her inside.

"Why did you come see me? When it was soaking wet?"

"I guessed you were alone, and I wanted to check if you were okay."

Logan felt something warm up inside of him.

"Do you want a fur jacket?"

Rebecca stared at him.

"Why? Do you have one?" She asked incredulously, trying to peer into his wardrobe.

"Only for winter, when it's…real cold," Logan excused lamely, fetching it down from it's hanger anyway and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"Thanks," Rebecca clenched the lapels of the jacket around her wet shoulders. He sat down beside her. She shuddered for a second, before breaking the silence.

"Did you sleep with Dana?"

Logan looked down at his feet.

"Where…why…"

"I need to know, that's all," she shrugged, her teeth chattering together breaking the silence in between, "is that why you two hate each other?"

Logan sighed. Rebecca continued to stare at him expectantly, shuddering every now and then.

"Okay," said Logan, after a long time of staring at the ground, "yeah we did."

"I knew it," Rebecca made what looked like an attempt to smile but she failed miserably due to the look of confusion that set across her face, "I don't understand what went wrong though."

"It's complicated," Logan twiddled his thumbs, "but don't worry, it's not like I got her preggers or anything."

"Preggers?" Rebecca repeated, "Er…"

"Pregnant," Logan would've rolled his eyes, but he felt too appreaciated to, "it's just…I sort of…"

"Let me guess," Logan looked up at Rebecca. She was shivering, her whole body shaking, she could barely get words out due to her chattering teeth but she paused every now and then to get full concentration behind putting out syllables. She looked frail, weak, waif-esque. It was the first time Logan had seen her looking vulnerable and open. "It just fell apart?"

Logan looked away again.

"Yes, but I'm not proud of it," he sighed loudly, "I loved Dana. It was a horrible mistake, like when we just finished. We started shouting at each other, we yelled, there was tears, I felt like a monster."

"Sometimes," she said softly, "you are Logan. You really hurt some girls, make their hearts ache and…" she cast her glance away, "it's not like I'm speaking from experience or anything. But I've seen the nicer sides of you. I just wish you'd show it more often."

I could say the same about you.

No, I couldn't.

"I don't want to leave you Logan," she said quietly, looking at him through the inky frame of her eye, hugging the jacket closer.

"It's okay," he felt the coldness of her arm against his, "you don't have to."

He could see her face if he looked to the left, the same, beautiful face he'd grown accostomed to.

"This is a really odd question," Logan looked away for a second before taking a deep breath, "can I kiss you?"

"Uh…um…, I don't really see why that should be a, uh…problem," she finished her ramble with a nervous smile, the same smile that made Logan's stomach flutter and his knees give way. He leaned closer, millimeters away from her face.

This was it! She was about to kiss Logan Reese. The guy she had hated not that long ago. She couldn't really believe what her brain was telling her.

"Uh, Logan," she said, aware that she was probably ruining the moment, "just for the record, I kinda like you too."

She took a deep breath and pressed her lips against his. She felt herself melting away as Logan's strong arms found their way around her waist. Her mind was working on overdrive, a million things flying across her brain in a muddle, except one message, clear as crystal : I hope this doesn't stop anytime soon.

He pulled away.

"Do you want to date me?"

"Why?" She looked about wildly for a moment, "Is this a trick question?"

"No, I'm like, asking you."

She widened her eyes in amazement, and blinked a few times.

"Like, out?"

"Yeah, I suppose I am. Well?"

"Well what?"

"Do you wanna go out with me?"

"I…" she smiled again, I would really, really want to," she bit her lip, "but…"

"I hate 'buts'," Logan sighed heavily, "but what?"

"I don't know how to say this, but I have to. I can't go out with you," a perfect, pearly tear found it's way down the black lines leading to her jaw, "my father called me tonight. Him and Kristen's father have a new business deal in Australia…and," she stopped, the tears now streaming from her eyes, her voice beginning to crack, "and my whole family and her whole family have to move tomorrow morning."

"Yeeeessss!"

Michael punched the air with his fist, jovially cheering and doing some sort of celebratory dance that featured body waves and some radical form of disco-dancing. Chase stared at him.

"Oh God," he cried, "where's the straight jacket?"

Michael chose to ignore him.

"I finished it! I killed the mafia!" he explained, still dancing, "Woohoo!"

He rose the game in the air like a trophy, before slamming it down to the ground.

"Oh shiitake."

"Sometimes, I think you're perfect."

Nicole settled herself against Nate's arm. He smelt of the usual, Be Delicious by DKNY and a brief scent of freshly washed polo shirt.

"You are perfect," Nate stroked her cheek lightly. They kissed again. Nicole had no idea how much time had gone past.

"Nate, what happens now?"

Nate looked down at Nicole. Her glossy hair was sparkling in the moonlight, cascading down her left shoulder in a super-straight side pony-tail. She was so sweet she was almost eatable.

But that would be such a waste.

"Now?"

"Now, that everyone's been cursed," Nicole beamed a bright-toothed smile, "are we cursed?"

He answered her with a kiss.

"Oh, and just for the record," she pulled away, not much, her lips were still resting on his, "what steel-gel hold do you use?"

Nate laughed.

"Why?" he twirled his sandy blonde hair, "is it effective?"

"Oh, very."

They kissed again.

"I think, Miss Bristow," Nate said between kisses, "I'm falling in love with you."

"And I think, Mr Williams, I can say the same."

"Ahem."

They parted.

"Oh hey," Nicole waved at Kristen, who was now standing not that far from them. Nate seemed to eye her with great dislike.

"Nate, we've got to go," she said, her voice cracking slightly.

"To where?" Nate replied angrily.

"To Australia."

Nicole felt her insides plummet.

Kristen knocked lightly on her room door.

"Dana? I left my key round at Chase's…" she peered through the key hole, "can you please let me in? Just this once?"

The door popped open, swinging slowly as she stepped inside. Dana sat cross-legged on the bed, a look of blankness across her face.

"Oh…are you okay?"

Dana shook her head. It wasn't likely that now, of all times, she'd share a heart to heart with Kristen Williams, her sworn mortal enemy.

"Do you want a chocolate shake?" Kristen dropped her jacket on her bed, "That's what I have when I'm feeling troubled."

Dana stared at her.

Did she just offer to do something for me? Without being tricked?

Wait a minute – did she just drop her jacket? Without folding it? What's going on here?

Kristen went over to the make-shift kitchen section she'd set up not long ago. Dana heard a few shakes, squirts, breaking of cold chocolate bars and splashes, clinking of tall glasses, followed by the deafening whir of Kristen's blender. Not long after, she brought over two tall glasses and handed one to Dana.

"Here, a Kristen original," she said with a smile as Dana took it, "A Choco K-Shake."

Dana raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. It tasted good, like she was at home. The chocolate was creamy, Dana's favorite. How Kristen knew that, she had no idea. It was probably just a coincidence.

She noticed, now that Kristen was sitting on the bed, that her eyes were red-rimmed with crying, her face stained with mascara tinted tears. She looked exhausted, emotionally drawn.

"Did you…fall out with Logan again?" Kristen tried, peering over the rim of her glass. Dana's shoulders collapsed. She was letting her defenses down.

"Yeah," she sighed deeply, "but it's nothing different. We always fight."

"But you're not always depressed," Kristen fished a block of galaxy chocolate out of her glass and began sucking on it, "come off it Dana, do you really like this guy?"

"I don't know…" Dana sighed even louder, her shoulders sagging, her back concaving as she slouched, "I think it would be easier if I did."

"Wait, you mean, you…" she swallowed the chocolate block almost whole, choking momentarily but forcing it down so she could continue her heart to heart, "you don't love him?"

"I'm in love with him."

"Sorry, I don't really comprehend," Kristen coughed, "I didn't cover that in my essay."

"I don't love him," Dana took another sip of her shake, "I'm in love with him. I'm in love with the idea of being in love. I'm in love with his looks, with his scathing tongue…" Kristen coughed suggestively, Dana chose to ignore it, "just with…him. But I can't say I love him. It's definitely a for now thing. I mean, sure, for PCA, but in the big bad world, I don't think so. We'd argue, we'd tear apart. He'd break my heart agai– " she stopped herself saying 'again,' but it was obvious the damage was already done. Kristen looked curious for a moment, but thankfully, she decided to drop it.

"So you can launch yourself at him," Dana continued, "we all know how you love to win. Get Logan and you'll win the game."

"I may be a bitch," Kristen said, "but I don't hurt people like that."

"But he doesn't care for me, he uses me then moves onto something else within a week," Dana sighed, "this would be the perfect opportunity for you to steal it all. You'd win the game."

"No," Kristen said softly, "Game Over."