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A/N: Thank you all so much for reviewing!

"How did you sleep, Lizzy?" Paul's mother asked at breakfast the next morning as she set a huge plate of pancakes in the center of the table. The two teenagers had shuffled in groggily only a few moments before, and now the display of food had immediately woken them up.

"Fine," Lizzy replied, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table as her friend. Paul, being the gentleman, pushed the plate of pancakes toward her so she could take some first. Lizzy knew better; it had probably taken him a lot of effort to do that, considering he was practically drooling at the sight of pancakes. Typical guy. "Ya know, for someone who just found out that they're adopted and their real parents are living somewhere in New York."

Paul's mother raised an eyebrow, not knowing what to say in response to that. She'd known Lizzy as long as her son had; she was basically her surrogate daughter. She'd never expected something like this. "Oh." she said, putting a container of syrup on the table. Lizzy picked up a pancake with her fork, dangling it in the air for Paul to see before she set it onto her plate. She stacked two more on top, and finally shoved the large plate to Paul, who took the rest. Rolling her eyes, Lizzy dug into her food hungrily.

"You two have any plans for today?" Paul's mom questioned.

Paul looked up from his food. "I don't know." He said with a mouth full of pancakes. His words were barely decipherable, but Lizzy got the impression anyway. His mother stared at him in a disapproval, hands on her hips.

"The beach, maybe." Lizzy suggested.

"That's fine. Just have the car back by two--I have work at two-thirty."

Paul gave his mother a thumbs-up, instead of risking getting yelled at for talking with his mouth full of food. He and Lizzy finished eating, and got themselves ready for the day. Once Lizzy was changed, she tucked the picture of her parents into the back pocket of her jean Capri pants and joined her friend in the living room, where he was waiting for her, car keys in hand.

"Careful driving, Paulie." His mother called as they left the apartment. Paul's face turned as red as a strawberry at the nickname, while Lizzy had trouble holding in her laughter. She hit him playfully in the arm when they were down the hall.

"Paulie," she giggled, "I didn't know she still called you that. I don't even call you that anymore. Although, I might have to start that up again…"

"Please, spare me the humiliation," Paul groaned. "It was bad enough in grade school."

"Oh, come on. I didn't embarrass you that bad." Lizzy protested.

Paul hit the button the elevator door and they waited for it to arrive. "Yeah, okay, Liz. I don't know what planet you're living on, because I distinctly remember you coming up to me many times in the hallway, yelling at the top of your lungs, 'Paulie! Over here!'. And you did that whole girly waving your arms thing."

"Shut up, I did not."

"You totally did." Paul argued, as they stepped into the elevator, which took them to the ground level.

"Give me a break. It was grade school."

Paul said nothing to further the disagreement, even when they got into the car. Lizzy settled herself into the passenger's seat and took control over the radio. Neither one of them spoke until they were a few blocks from the apartment building.

"So, the beach, huh?" Paul asked.

"For a little while," Lizzy said. "I figure I just…need to clear my head a bit. Think some things over."

Five minutes later, she and Paul were on the beach, trying to skip stones on the water. The area of the beach they were occupying was vacant, which was perfect. The sky was cloudless today, and it was a lot more humid. Great swimming weather, but neither of them wanted to get their clothes soaked. Lizzy had flung her shoes into the sand and was scouring the shore for good skipping rocks while enjoying the tranquility. Nature was one of those things that brought out a reflective mood in her.

Last night, she had slept soundly. Her dreams were filled with bits of memories of her past, and the faces of her family--the people who loved her, and had cared for her. She had heard Jude's voice clearly this time, singing every word to that song. Snap shots of whatever she could recall from her two years with them came flooding back, and soon the dream had morphed into something Lizzy could only imagine.

She saw herself walking on a beach like the one she was at now. She was dressed in a flowing, white skirt and the yellow shirt her mother had once worn. Her feet were bare, and she was walking in the warm sand. Suddenly, she noticed two figures approaching her from the distance. As they came closer, she recognized them as her parents, Lucy and Jude. Her mother looked radiant in a blue skirt similar to the one she was wearing, a white tank top, and daisies in her silky, blond hair. Jude was dressed in jeans and a green button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Both were smiling, happy about being reunited at last. Lizzy stood, grinning, waiting for them to reach her. Unfortunately, when Lucy and Jude were just about to get to Lizzy, she woke up.

Lizzy had taken the dream as a sign. Her fate. She needed a change; she didn't belong with the Harrisons. She was rightfully Lucy's and Jude's child, and just by glancing through the things they had sent, she felt more of a connection to them than she ever did with the people who had been raising her for the past fifteen years. Lizzy dropped the stone she had been holding and sunk down onto the sand, fingering the strawberry pendant necklace that she had made sure to put on this morning. She pulled the picture of her parents from her back pocket, scanning it with a smile.

Paul stopped hurling stones at the waves and sat down beside his friend. He could just tell that she was plotting something. He didn't ask; he let her work it out before she admitted it to him. She looked very pensive, so whatever it was, it had to be important.

"I want to find my parents, Paul." she declared sincerely. Paul had almost been expecting her to say that, especially after last night. He couldn't blame her, really. She was better off with her biological parents, even if that meant she'd have to leave Florida for good. He didn't know what he'd do if his best friend left…but he didn't want to be selfish. Lizzy had to do this.

"This is…are you sure?" he asked.

"Positive."

"Okay, then," Paul said. "We'll go to New York City."

"We?"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to let you go by yourself."

"But what about your mom…?"

"Liz, you're not going alone."

"Fine," Lizzy replied, her fingers finding the necklace once more. "but I don't know how you're going to convince her to let you come with me to New York. I don't even know how we're going to get there."

"We'll figure something out."

"Yeah, 'cause that's really reassuring…" Lizzy trailed off. "The Harrisons are going to freak when I tell them."

"Or you could not tell them." Paul said with a mischievous smirk. Lizzy raised an eyebrow. That was actually a very good idea. If she went to New York without letting the Harrisons know, they wouldn't be able to stop her. Besides, she had every right to go search for her real parents.

"I like the way you think…"

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"Are you sure they're not going to be home?" Paul asked several hours later, as he and Lizzy were approaching the Harrisons' house. They had just come from his apartment, where they had dropped off the car and calmly asked his mother if he could accompany Lizzy to New York in order to find her biological parents. She responded well, after the initial disbelief wore off. She was logical about the whole thing, knowing that it wasn't safe for Lizzy to go by herself. When she asked the teens how they were going to get to New York, they told her not to worry, even though neither one of them had come up with anything yet.

"Yes, Paul. Relax, Mr. Harrison won't be home until tonight, and the Mrs. won't be back for at least two hours."

Lizzy knew the door was going to be locked, and unfortunately, she hadn't brought her key with her when she fled to Paul's. The Harrisons weren't the type of people to leave a spare under their Welcome mat, so she had to figure out an alternate plan. She motioned for Paul to follow her around the back of the house; the window to the downstairs guest bedroom was always left unlocked. Lizzy lifted the window open, climbed up onto the sill, and hopped in. Once successfully inside, she let Paul in through the back door and shut the window.

The two of them went upstairs to Lizzy's bedroom, and she began to gather some of her things together frantically. She pulled out a backpack, and stuffed it with clothes and personal items, and small photo albums of her favorite pictures throughout the years. She also grabbed a portfolio of her best artwork, to take with her to show her family, and her acceptance letter from the School of Visual Arts. Lizzy made a mental note to take her sketchbook and pencils from Paul's apartment when they went back there.

Lizzy grabbed her things and went downstairs, pausing to steal the keys to Mr. Harrison's sports car from its usual spot in the kitchen. Paul gave her a questioning glance, which she dismissed. She walked over to Mr. Harrison's office and took the address book from his desk, hoping that maybe they'd have the address to her parents' Greenwich apartment written down. Luckily, they did, and Lizzy was able to copy it onto a scrap of paper, which she tucked into her pocket. Paul then followed her out the back door and to the driveway. Lizzy went to go unlock the car.

"You're just going to steal his car and drive off to New York with it?" he inquired, watching her toss her belongings into the back seat. She shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. He'd expect such behavior from himself, but not his friend. She was rebellious, but only up until a certain point.

"That's the plan," Lizzy answered. "And I'm not stealing. I'd call it borrowing. I'll give it back eventually. C'mon, get in."

Paul only shook his head and climbed into the passenger's seat. "I don't think I've seen you so…rebellious before. I like it."

Lizzy laughed. She couldn't believe she was doing this either. But she was desperate, and "borrowing" Mr. Harrison's car seemed like the only way to get to New York. They didn't have enough money to fly; they barely had enough money combined to fill up the gas tank when it got toward empty. Lizzy just prayed that the thing would get them to their destination.