Aria had faithfully returned to the Redbud Tree every afternoon since she spent that rainy evening with Kip, hoping against hope that he might be there, hunting for whatever it was that she was hunting for herself. She needn't have wasted her limited time with treks to the location of such an excruciatingly bitter-sweet moment. Following two weeks of rehearsing his groveling, Kip decided he was willing to risk a throw-down with Mrs. Ester Rosenburg in order to attempt friendship with Aria.

Sweating profusely, he paced the length of the Edwards' porch, furiously wiping his brow. Gathering every shred of his courage, he determinedly rang the doorbell. Aria glided into the entryway and ushered him into the Sitting Room. Averting her eyes, she extracted the basket of fruit from his trembling hands, read the hastily scrawled note announcing that said fruit was a gift from Lonnie Matthews and Mr. Bruno, and stiffly offered him a seat in her father's best chair.

Kip had launched into an awkward rant about Mr. Bruno not really being in love with Lonnie if he wanted to marry her so soon after his wife's death, and if a man truly loves a woman, he will never fall out of love with her when, when he was interrupted by a SpongeBob-boxer-clad Marcus staggering into the room, groggily handing Aria an enormous glass of chocolate milk, tenderly pecking her on the cheek, and departing with all the fluidity of motion of a zombie. Aria stammered an apology for Marcus's lack of clothing, when Kip bolted, as if something had clamped down on his ass, from the recliner, and fled for dear life. Aria could only assume that Kip Winters was not a SpongeBob Fan.

Mr. Waldon Edwards decided to invite the Students of Claremont University to Westhaven Circle for a gathering in Hope-Catherine's honor. She needed to make some Bostonian friends, Mr. Waldon Edwards declared. It was improper for a girl with so many visible veins not to have anyone to gossip about boys with and teach her about the wonders of makeup. When Mr. Waldon Edwards dreamed, he dreamed HUGE, so preparations for the party to end all parties were placed squarely on the shoulders of Mrs. Ester Rosenburg. To no one's surprise, Mrs. Ester Rosenburg threw a shindig that surpassed even Mr. Waldon Edwards' wildest expectations.

Hope-Catherine's party was to be an event of such massive proportions that even Aria was given the Royal Treatment. The result of said pampering was that her eyes had never sparkled so brilliantly, and her skin had never been so radiantly flushed, and Kip had never seen her wearing a dress that had left him so speechless. Through the best of times, and the worst of times, Kip Winters could always think of a few adjectives to describe Aria Edwards. Shoulders squared and jaw jutted, Kip sauntered up to Aria, who was guarding the punch bowl.

"So, this is the first party I've gone to when you haven't been shackled to the piano."

Aria spluttered indignantly into her plastic punch cup; regardless of her regal apparel, she wasn't allowed within 1,000 feet of the wine goblets. Kip chugged the entire contents of his shot glass.

Once the dam separating "I'm glad you're doing so well" from "You used to mean the world to me" burst, there's no turning back.

"You used to play the piano because you adored music. When did you start using the piano as a shield? Whatever happened to that girl who wasn't terrified to let people in?"

"Marcus." Aria snapped defensively. "I've let Marcus in. Unfortunately, he's proven himself impossible to get rid of."

Beneath his inscrutable glare, she sunk against the wall, splattering droplets of punch on her dress.

"You know," he spat acidly, "I loved you because you had that whole marching to the beat of your own drummer thing going on."

Aria was so numbed by the crushing blow that he had "LOVED" her, and please note the past-tense, she mechanically hurled her fist against his muscular chest, splashed punch all over his tailored suit, bawled hysterically, and blindly tore out of the Ball Room, down the stairs, through the Dining Room, Living Room and Sitting room, out of the front door, and all the way to the uppermost branches of the Redbud Tree.

Against her will, the memories flashed before her eyes. Memories of rippling biceps snaking territorially about her waist; memories of fingers absentmindedly tugging at the waistband of her skirt; memories of masculine hands roaming roguishly across her bottom; memories of ocean-blue eyes gazing lustily at the rain drops trickling from the tip of her nose; memories of wayward strands of ebony hair sending sensual tingles throughout her fingertips; memories of his heavy panting, as he pressed his torso forcefully against her's…and removed an arm from her waist, in order to retrieve his umbrella.

In that instant, she would have given anything, even her friendship with Marcus, for the chance to react to his accusations differently. She would have taken his face in her hands, fervently pressing her lips to his, as proof that his love was all she needed.

With a torrent of cursing, Kip ascended the trellis beneath Aria's window. Heaving himself over the sill, he THUDDED to the floor at Marcus's feet. Marcus examined him skeptically, until Kip growled at him to stare somewhere else.

Shrugging nonchalantly, Marcus deadpanned, "The last time you pulled the trellis-climbing stunt, you proposed to Aria. I just wanted to make sure you didn't have the wrong impression about you and me. I mean… I realize that every body wants to get with THIS," he batted his eyelashes coyly at Kip, "but… Kip, to put it bluntly, you're too tall for me.

Kip theatrically rolled his eyes before frantically blurting, "Speaking of putting things bluntly… ARIA VANISHED. We had this colossal argument about pianos, and she….SHE JUST DISAPPEARED."

Marcus intimidatingly flexed his muscles, snarling, "If you hurt her, I swear to God, I'll rip you apart with my bare hands, atom by atom."

Kip cowered beneath the foroscious glint in Marcus's eyes and stammered that Aria mentioned a propensity for seeking comfort in Redbud Trees. Marcus had already flung himself over the window sill, scrambled down the trellis, and charged toward the only Redbud Tree he knew of on Westhaven Court before Kip had opportunity to yelp so much as a "Thank you."

Heart pounding wildly, muscles burning from exhaustion, Marcus approached the Redbud Tree, barely restraining the urge to gasp at the sight of his beloved, heartbreakingly bedraggled and broken Aria. No discussion about pianos could have reduced his typically find-the-bright-side-of-everything best friend to such a state of vulnerability.

AUTHOR'S NOTEThese last few paragraphs are defined as a flashback because of the first paragraph of the next chapter. So, are you lost yet? Me to, but that's probably why I shouldn't be doing this during Sesame Street. Muppets are VERY distracting. Anyway! I figured this is a good time to clear a few things up. In the book, there is no Marcus. Everybody hooks up with their cousin, and Kip is jealous of Rex Evans because he can tell that Rex has it bad for Aria, but I thought an ex fiancee being jealous of a best friend was more powerful, so... if you have questions, ask them in a review. Thanks for reading. I hope you're enjoying it!