Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

A/N: Thank you all so, so much for the reviews! And, thanks to those of you who gave me suggestions for Paul's last name in the last chapter… Here's chapter 32, enjoy!

The room Lizzy had used for over fifteen years of her life was now pretty much vacant. The walls were bare, the closet was empty, and most of the dresser drawers had been cleaned out. Boxes piled in the far corner contained items she didn't think necessary to take along with her to New York--old clothes, books and other childhood toys that hadn't seen the light of day in a year or two. She'd told the Harrisons to donate them to charity so they wouldn't go to waste.

There were a couple of book bags and a suitcase filled with the last of her belongings that she planned to take with her sitting at the foot of the bed. Lizzy was in the process of packing a few last minute things before she left tomorrow. She had her messenger bag on top of the bed, her sketchpad lying beside it.

Someone knocked on the door as she was placing the sketchbook into her bag. She called for that someone to come in, and wasn't surprised to see Paul enter. He stood by the door at first, looking around Lizzy's room with a certain shock in his eyes. How had the time flown by so quickly? It seemed like Lizzy moving to New York had just been nothing more than an idea a few months ago…something that Paul didn't think would truly ever happen. And now it was.

Was it selfish of him to want Lizzy to stay here? Was it wrong of him to wish that the Harrisons had kept their secret, so that Lizzy could go about the rest of her life never knowing she had been adopted? So she wouldn't have to leave him?

"Almost packed, huh?" he asked finally.

"Yeah…just a couple more things."

"It looks so…weird."

Paul had known Lizzy long enough that he'd seen the various themes of her bedroom over the years. From the time that they had been friends--at age four--until about six, the walls had been white, as they were now, but there had been a wallpaper border of brightly colored stars of all shapes and sizes. Lizzy always had a thing with stars, even when she was little. Paul had also seen her room go through that crazy, preteen stage; he'd been thoroughly surprised when the Harrisons let her paint her own room when she was thirteen--they let her pick out the color and everything. She called him up that afternoon once she and Mr. Harrison had gone out to pick up the cans of paint, and asked him for his help. Lizzy had picked out some outrageous shade of green--a bright lime color. That color stayed until about last year, when she decided she'd had enough of it, and went back to white.

Now…it looked different. There was no life to it anymore. Nothing that showed off Lizzy's extraordinary personality and talents. There was such finality to its appearance; an end of yet another stage. Paul wouldn't really be there to see the next stage, the beginning of his best friend's life in New York. It was strange…because they had been together through everything else. Even trivial things like bedroom themes.

"You wanna go to the beach?" Lizzy asked, disrupting Paul's reverie.

"Uh…yeah, sure."

The reasons for the spontaneous trip to the beach were simple, Paul knew. Lizzy wanted to visit the beach one last time before she left; it was one of her--their--favorite places to go, and she would miss it. That, and Paul figured she had made the decision about their relationship. He'd told her it was completely up to her; whatever she chose was fine with him. If she wanted to continue a long-distance relationship, great. If she just wanted to go back to being friends, okay.

Except…right now, he was having second thoughts about that. Couldn't he have some say in the matter, too? Why had he left it solely up to her in the first place? He would have to see how things played out. If he felt it necessary, he would just tell her--tell her how much he wanted her to just stay.

Next thing he knew, the two of them were riding their bikes to the beach, Lizzy racing up ahead of him, laughing with the wind blowing through her dark hair. He picked up his speed and pedaled alongside of her, smiling, acting as if it was like all of the other times they'd been there over the years. Paul tried his hardest to pretend, to trick his mind into believing that nothing was different about this particular trip, but failed miserably in doing so. It wasn't like the good old times. There wasn't anything good about it.

Lizzy and Paul stowed their bikes where they usually did, and made their way down to the sandy shore. Lizzy was already kicking off her sandals before they reached the water. Paul watched her, wondering what she was going to do next, or how she'd initiate the inevitable conversation. She was standing in the shallow water that only touched her bare ankles, digging her toes into the wet sand beneath. Paul went to stand beside her, sharing a long, awkward and tense--in Paul's opinion, at least--silence.

"Remember when we first met?" she asked, breaking the uneasy silence. Paul glanced up. The question caught him off guard; he hadn't really been expecting it.

"Yeah," Paul laughed, despite the underlying sadness the entire day had carried so far, "I remember." Meeting Lizzy in pre-school was one of the few memories he'd had of his life at age four. Actually, it was one of the better memories he'd had of that point in time. The bad one being the night that his father left him and his mother and never came back. Paul shook his head, ignoring the bad memory and focusing on the good one.

It was the third day of pre-school, and Paul still hadn't made any friends--he hadn't made any real attempt to, either. He hadn't exactly gotten used to the idea of it yet. He was that one kid in his class of four-year-olds who always cried for his mother after she'd dropped him off. It was embarrassing, now that he looked back on it, but back then, it made a lot of sense. It was September; Paul's father had just left him and his mother in late July. He was still trying to wrap his little head around the fact that his dad wasn't coming back, and the fact that his mother dropped him off in this strange place every day and didn't return for a few hours didn't help any. He was always afraid that maybe one day, she would forget to pick him up, or decide to leave him here…

He'd been sitting in the corner of the classroom, playing with a few of the green plastic army figures by himself, watching the other kids. A lot of them had already formed groups, making friends easily. He just couldn't bring himself to do that. Paul hadn't spoken much to anyone except his mother after his father left. He went on minding his own business, hoping that one of his teachers wouldn't come over again to try and coax him into meeting new kids.

Paul had been focused intently on the army figures--that is, until he felt someone else hovering over him. Reluctantly, he looked up to see a girl standing above him, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her dark hair was up in pigtails, with blue ribbons tied in each that matched the color of her eyes.

"Hi." she said, smiling. Paul didn't know what to do, considering this had been the first time another kid had approached him like this. After crying each day for a good ten minutes straight once his mother left, the other kids tended to stay away from him.

"Hi." he managed to answer, his little voice barely above a whisper. Paul was known to be a very shy little boy. He was kind of hoping that she would leave him alone so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone, but it looked like that wasn't going to happen.

The girl kept grinning. "I'm Lizzy." she told him. Lizzy. He hadn't known it at that age (because at that age, it was a well-known fact that all girls had cooties), but that name would someday make his stomach do major flip-flops.

Paul nodded, thinking about the name of this girl, and looking her over. Maybe she wasn't so bad, he decided. She was trying to be his friend…

"I'm Paul."

"Wha' are you doin' here?" she asked, to which Paul only shrugged. She glanced back at the other children, then at Paul, frowning. "Don't you 'ave any friends?" Paul shook his head. Lizzy stepped over to the side and sat down on the floor beside him, crossing her legs. She stared at him, innocent azure eyes sparkling. "Can I be your friend?"

Paul nodded, and unknowingly sealed a bond of friendship that would last for many years to come.

Paul grinned. "You were the only one who wanted to be my friend at first," he recalled. "I was the class freak for awhile."

"You were not."

"Oh, come on. No one wanted to be friends with the kid who would cry for his mommy every single day for the first two weeks."

Lizzy shook her head, dismissing the topic. Paul suddenly laughed, remembering another point in their childhood, and decided to bring it up, as long as they were going to have the 'remember when' discussion. "Hey…remember when I kissed you when we were five?"

Lizzy nodded. She remembered that--she was the one who had brought it up after Paul kissed her on New Year's. "I was so mad at you." she replied.

"Well, some things never change…" Paul said, recalling Lizzy's less-than-excited reaction to the kiss he'd planted on her at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve.

"Yeah," Lizzy mumbled. "Why'd you kiss me that time, anyway?" Paul shrugged.

"I think…I wanted to test out the 'girls have cooties' theory."

"Oh, so that's why you kissed me? To see if you could really get cooties? Nice."

"And then you slapped me."

"Yes, I did," Lizzy answered, laughing. "You had a red mark on the side of your face in the shape of handprint for the rest of the day." Paul smiled, rubbing a hand over his cheek nostalgically. Lizzy walked out of the water and went up onto the shore. He followed after her, and the two of them sat down on the warm sand.

"I've been thinking…" she said at last, digging her feet in the hot sand. Paul couldn't look at her. Oh, God…here it comes…he thought. Paul's stomach did nervous flip-flops; he'd been dreading this conversation for months. Why couldn't they just go back to reminiscing about their childhood? "…about this whole situation with our relationship."

"Yeah?"

"And really, Paul, I think we both know that we can't exactly have this boyfriend/girlfriend relationship when we're so far away from each other."

Paul's heart immediately sank. So, this was it. She was breaking up with him. She'd made him feel a little bit better by taking him here to their favorite spot, and talking about their memories together, and now she was going to ruin the moment. He knew it had been coming at some point…

"It would be way too hard, especially with school and work, and whatever else we might have going on. You can understand that, right?"

Paul could see where she was coming from, and what point she was trying to make. They were all true, but…it just wasn't fair. He'd wanted this sort of relationship, and so had she. They had made it work for several long months…and now she was expecting the two of them to break up?

"It's not like I want to break everything off," Lizzy continued. "I still want to be friends--I never want to loose that--and I want to keep in touch, of course."

"Yeah."

"You understand, right, Paul?" she asked again.

"Yeah, sure--of course." he lied.

"You're not mad?"

Damn it. Just tell her already. You've gone this far without saying anything--tell her how you feel before it's too late. Paul debated with himself, trying to figure out how to go about telling her that. He didn't want to come across as a complete selfish jerk, but he wanted to say something…

Suddenly, Paul stood up, avoiding Lizzy's gaze. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, letting out a prolonged sigh. Concern flittered across Lizzy's face, and for a few moments, she felt extremely horrible. The last thing she wanted to do was break up with Paul, but she didn't see how they could make their relationship work.

"Paulie?" she asked quietly, using the nickname only reserved for teasing and crucial moments such as these. Lizzy stood, placing a hand on his arm from behind. He didn't respond. "You're mad at me, aren't you? I'm sorry, but--"

"I'm not mad at you, Lizzy," he said. "I'm mad that you're leaving. I'm not trying to be selfish, but I…really hate the idea of you being so far away."

"I know," She moved to stand next to him, and leaned her head in to rest against his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. It's your family, and it's not my place to come between that. I just wish you could stay here." Paul met Lizzy's eyes with his own, brushing a finger along her cheek, which only caused her turn away. She picked her head off his shoulder, separating herself from him.

"You're making this harder." she told Paul. Paul tilted his head to the side curiously. She still had feelings for him--it was nice to know that that was being reciprocated. Lizzy started to walk away--heading for who-knew-where--but Paul grabbed her arm carefully and spun her around, forcing her to look at him.

"Lizzy…" he started.

"Paul, don't. Please. This is hard for me, too. Do you really think this is what I want to do on my last day here? Break up with my best friend? I wish we could find some way to continue this, but we can't. I wish I could take you with me, but we both know that won't happen. I belong in New York, and your mom needs you here. That's the way it has to be. We have to go back to being friends--nothing more. I'm sorry."

The words sounded harsh, but it was the truth. He had to understand that.

Paul pulled Lizzy to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. He kissed her, and she returned it, but only for a few seconds before she tore herself from his grip. The kiss hadn't been anything sweet and romantic like it had in the past, and judging from the expression on Lizzy's face, she hadn't enjoyed it very much. Paul hadn't expected it to go so terribly; the last thing he wanted to do was have Lizzy leave when they were on bad terms with each other.

"Lizzy," he said, his breathing uneven, "Stay. Please."

"I told you, Paulie," she replied, her voice breaking, tears burning in her eyes, "I can't."

She turned away from him again, and slipped into her sandals before running up the beach toward their bikes. Paul stayed where he was, watching her as she got on her bike and rode away. Sighing, he ran his hand over his face and slowly headed for his own bike once Lizzy was well out of sight.

Damn it. He thought miserably, We've really screwed things up this time…

"Hey, Lizzy, how was yer trip to the beach?" Jude asked when Lizzy stepped through the front door of the Harrisons' house. He'd been sitting in the living room, his sketchbook in his lap, trying his hardest to concentrate among the all the noise in the background. Lizzy didn't answer; she made a beeline for the stairs, and once she ran past him, he noticed the tears streaking her face. She ran up the staircase, and he heard the door slam a moment later. Ever the worried father, Jude set his sketchbook aside and went upstairs to have a talk with his distressed daughter. He had a feeling that her discussion with Paul hadn't gone as smoothly as she might've liked.

Hesitantly, Jude knocked on Lizzy's door. He was having second thoughts about trying to talk to her, thinking maybe Lucy or one of Lizzy's aunts were better suited for this sort of thing. He decided against it, though, once he realized that he could sort of sympathize with his daughter's plight.

"Lizzy?" he asked. "You want to talk about it, love?" There wasn't an answer or any form of a response from the other side of the door. "Can I come in, at least?"

"Uh-huh."

Well, that was something. He was thankful that she'd acknowledged his presence instead of pushing him away. All he wanted to do was try to help.

Jude opened the door and slid in, shutting it quietly behind himself. Lizzy was lying on the bed on her side, her back facing him. Every now and then, he could see her body shake with small, mostly silent sobs. Cautiously, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on her back, gently rubbing back and forth, like he remembered doing when Lizzy was an infant. The father-daughter pair shared a long silence, then Jude spoke, still rubbing Lizzy's back. He never thought he would be having a discussion about boys with his teenage daughter…

"It's hard to leave someone behind that you love," he stated. "I know."

Lizzy rolled over onto her back to look up at him. "Yeah, but you got mom back."

"True, but we were apart for several months. I know what it's like, love. Trust me, you don't want to leave on bad terms."

"But it's so frustrating," Lizzy told Jude. "We both want to have a relationship like this, but we have to end it. It won't work out when we're on opposite ends of the coast. I want to stay friends, but somehow that doesn't seem like it's enough."

"It'll be enough, for now. As long as you keep in touch," Jude said. "It'll work out in the end."

"Not all of us are as lucky as you and mom."

Jude laughed. "Don't leave being angry with each other, Lizzy. You won't want to carry that guilt with you."

Lizzy nodded. She didn't want to ruin their friendship. That was the one thing she wanted to keep, if they couldn't have a romantic relationship. Jude smiled, kissed Lizzy's forehead, and left. Lizzy sat up, swinging her legs over the side of her bed. She needed to make amends with Paul…

Lizzy grabbed her bike for the second time that day and rode to Paul's apartment building. Paul's mother was home--she was just getting ready to head off to work--so she answered the door when she arrived.

"Is Paul here?" she asked, uncertain if Paul had returned home after their little disagreement at the beach.

"He's in his room." Ms. Rigby answered, ushering her inside. Lizzy went down the small, narrow hallway to Paul's bedroom, pausing once she reached his door. Heaving a sigh, she knocked.

"Paul…it's me, Lizzy."

There was a extensive period of silence. "Come in." he muttered. Lizzy opened the door and went inside, finding Paul sitting on the floor with his back against the side of the bed. He'd been preoccupying himself with a hand-held game of some sort, which he tossed to the side once she entered. Biting her lip, she approached Paul, sitting down beside him, her legs crossed. Lizzy stared at Paul, waiting until he met her gaze, which he did a minute later.

"Can I be your friend?" she asked sheepishly. A grin tugged at the corner of Paul's mouth. He nodded, sealing their bond of friendship once more. It would have to be enough, for now.

A/N: Hope you liked it… Please review! It's not the end, do not worry!

Although I do not have a trivia question, I have a different kind of question for you all: Who is your favorite Beatle, and why? Mine is John, for a variety of reasons. He was so cool…