A.N - Sorry it's been so long (since February - ouch). I didn't mean for that to get so out of control. But I finished school today. So that little thing commonly known as homework does not bother me anymore. Unfortunately, that BIG thing known as revision does. In a big way. Rest assured this story will be completed though.

Even if I have yet to figure out so of the more major plot holes. Bear with me with this guys. I did warn you of an evil (in my mind, anyway) twist. This is it. :)

Chapter Ten

"Like here but with better weather."

"You know, Jesse," I began hesitantly. Crazy as I was to ruin this perfectly happy snuggle-fest in the corner diner booth before my shift started with some kind of meaningful conversation about where this relationship was headed, sometimes it just has to be done. "I've been thinking. What if I applied to a Californian college?"

I felt Jesse tense behind me from where I leaned against his chest and hastily continued. "I was just thinking, you know, that your family might be missing you and it would be kind of nice to see my mom again."

"You've been planning to go to NYU for ages, Susannah." Jesse replied. "I don't want you to pass that up for me."

Shrugging, I turned to face him. I could practically hear the second hand on the clock ticking closer and closer to the beginning of my shift, taunting me with the fact that time was running out. Soon I'd have to … work. Ugh. If it weren't for college and the fact that it costs, you know, a lot of money, I would so quit.

"I can go to school anywhere I want, you know." He smiled at me and pressed his lips to mine quickly, cutting off any and all thoughts and wirings to my brain. Stupid, brain-damaging kisses.

"I know, querida. And I can also live anywhere I choose, too."

I frowned, my lip jutting out in a pout. Jesse, in response, chuckled and gently pushed my bottom lip back to its normal, un-pouting position with his little finger.

"Now, I believe it's time for you to smile and serve drinks." A quick glance at the clock told me he was right. "I'll come back when your shift is over and walk you back to your apartment."

Nodding in acceptance, I walked over to the counter and watched as he left, the door opening and closing noisily behind him, and turned to wave goodbye. I smiled back at him, only turning to acknowledge my boss hovering behind me as he vanished from my sight.

"That boy," she tilted her head in the direction he'd gone, "is hiding something. Watch out sugar, there's a reason that he don't want to go back to California."

And, I really believe that she just may be on to something. Nobody wants to not go home that badly.

In the month since Jesse and Paul had spent their night in the slammer, neither of them had warmed overly much towards the other. In fact, whenever they were together, there's almost a blanket of resentment hanging in the air around them. I'm pretty sure the only reason more punches haven't been thrown is, well, me.

Now, though, August was readily gaining on September and I'd made a decision. A decision that probably didn't help Jesse gain any standing in Paul's affections.

"I can't believe you're actually moving," Paul complained from his rather unhelpful position of lounging on my bed. "To the West Coast. Because of him."

Rolling my eyes, I started up on the conversation that Paul and I had had too many times to count. "It's not because of Jesse," I threw him a pointed look. "It's to –"

"See your Mom and Andy, I know, I know."

"Besides," I reached to pull out a cute-but-considerably-rumpled top from behind Paul and fold it into my suitcase. It's weird trying to pack your whole life up and then ship it to another state. Seriously. "Jesse doesn't even know I transferred yet. It's not his fault I'm leaving."

"You'd never have entertained the thought of California if it wasn't for him." Paul's mumble rang true enough so I studiously ignored it, just like anyone else would have.

"Okay, I think I'm done." I turned and smiled at Paul. "Now to tell Jesse my plan."

He smiled back at me sadly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small attempt at a smile. "I'm going to miss you Suze. Jesse doesn't know how lucky he is."

I'd expected shouting. A firm denial, maybe an argument and a resounding, "No, querida, I am not going back and that is final!"

I mean, turning up on your boyfriend's rented-apartment steps with two suitcases and a handbag complete with all your on-flight essentials – magazines, chocolate, water, make-up, you know, the usual – probably isn't the best way to break it to him that your moving across the country for college and, oh yeah, the classes start a week on Monday. An argument would have been likely.

A sigh and an acceptance were not usual. Especially coming from Jesse – the king of those of the opinionated race. Even when I told him I had booked two tickets for a flight that night, he just nodded with an overwhelming sense of scary-calm I had not seen before.

"Okay, querida," he whispered after kissing me on the temple. "We'll go home. Just … if everything's not the same over there, remember that I love you, okay?"

Yeah, we were saying that to each other nowadays. No more cutting each other off with very uncomfortable kisses through bars with your best friend and half a police force watching. It was better this way.

"Nothing's going to change," I whispered back. "I'll meet your family, you can meet mine and we'll be together. Like here but with better weather."

He didn't reply; his smile was tight and didn't reach his eyes. That twinkle that I'd grown used to was gone.

It was almost like he'd given up.

But on what? California? Me? … Or us?

"Susannah." I felt his lips press against my skin. "Querida." And again. "Wake up." The armrest was digging into my ribs: The downside to sleeping on an aeroplane.

Grumbling, I shook the sleep out of my eyes. "How long was I out?"

"'Bout half an hour," he shrugged, linking his fingers with mine and tugging the joined hands to rest in his lap as he idly drew a pattern on my palm with his finger. The sensation sent shivers up my spine.

"Jesse!" I complained. Loudly. People were glaring. "It's a five hour flight. Surely you could let me sleep for one or two hours?"

"I wanted to spend time with you." Something dark and troubling settled over his face. "Besides, we'll be landing in an hour. You would have had to wake up soon anyway."

"Could've had another half hour."

My protests died when I saw the serious look on his face. "Susannah," he said, his eyes gazing at me both adoringly and attentively. "Indulge me."

And really, how could I say no? The next hour was spent talking, whispering, kissing, and cuddling. Every possible couple-like gesture that could be done in public was done. It was amazing - glorious, even - and I felt so heart-warmingly loved that I believed that nothing bad could happen to us.

Until it did.

We'd been off the plane all of ten minutes before I felt the hand tightly locked around mine loosen its grip as the body it was attached to slumped towards the ground.

The world around me sped up: people were crowding around us, offering assistance; flashes of red and blue lights blurred at the corner of my eye as the airport emergency service team raced to the scene; and I took in none of it.

All I saw was Jesse. His face was pale, an almost sickly grey colour, and his hand was limp as I clutched it with both my hands. None of it mattered. The medical men pounding at his chest trying to revive his heartbeat weren't going to get one. The man trying to force air into his lungs wasn't going to make Jesse breathe.

Neither the silent scream that fell from my lips – mouthing his name – nor the tears that streamed from my eyes as I realised the truth were going to bring him back.

He was gone.