Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A/N: So, first off, I must say that Beatles Rock Band is the best game ever invented. I'm completely in love with it. Second, I'm really sad that we're close to the end of this story. Everyone in the ATU fandom has been so awesome, and I love that you've kept with this fic for such a long time. I love our fandom :)

This is a short chapter, but the next one will be longer. I just feel bad for not updating in forever (I had a lot going on, between school, starting a screenplay, and moving), so I wanted to at least give you something to read! Even though it's short, something very important happens. Please review, it would be much appreciated!


Paul stared at the Prom picture he'd had tucked away in his wallet, his thumb tracing across the cover that helped to keep it safe. The gentle hum of the plane and the dull conversation of his fellow passengers swirled around him, but he paid no attention to it. His mind was a mess of jumbled thoughts and emotion yet again, and as he continued to gaze, smiling, at the photo of himself and his best friend, he couldn't stop thinking over the disaster he'd created back in Florida.

It had all started when he casually mentioned to Clara that he was going to New York for the Thanksgiving holiday. They had been hanging out at her place while her parents were still at work, and he had just decided to let her know, so that it didn't seem like he'd simply skipped town without telling her first. The reaction he received hadn't exactly been the one he was hoping for.

"Wait, you're what?" Clara sat up quickly, moving to the opposite end of the couch and throwing Paul this look of object horror and rage.

"Lizzy invited me to Thanksgiving with her family," Paul repeated. "It's the first one they've had together since she was adopted, and I wanted to—"

She cut him off. "I'm so sick of this!"

"Sick of what, Clara?" Suddenly he was glaring right back at her.

"You…bringing up this girl non-stop," she stated, "and playing the adoption card. People get adopted and reunite all the time!"

Paul merely gawked, not believing what he was hearing out of her. "This is different. You don't understand how important this is."

"To who, Paul?" she challenged. Clara stood and crossed her arms over her chest, scowling. "To her or to you? Because I feel like this is about something more than just dinner."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Clara avoided him, looking the other way with some degree of defiance. "Nothing," she responded quietly, after a moment. "But you already said you were spending Thanksgiving here, with me. Remember?"

Paul sat there racking his brain. He vaguely recalled her asking him, but it seemed like forever ago. He was honestly a little more than sketchy on the details.

"No," he replied, getting to his feet. "Look, I'm sorry, Clara. I already gave my answer to Lizzy, and she's expecting me to be there."

Clara looked as though she was about to cry, which made Paul feel somewhat guilty. "And you don't think I wasn't expecting the same?"

"I'm sorry," Paul said again. The words sounded forced and desperate—anything to stop her from breaking into tears. He didn't think that he could handle that. "I haven't seen her since the summer break…and…" He trailed off, attempting to place a comforting hand on her arm, but she shrugged it off and continued to purposefully not look at him. How could one conversation make a person feel so shitty? "I should've cleared it with you first. I'm sorry."

I'm sorry. He sounded like a broken, useless record. This wasn't doing anything whatsoever. He'd gotten to the point where one simple phrase had lost all of its genuine meaning, and had moved on only to fill the silence and cut the unbearable tension that stood between them.

"I'll make it up to you," he offered. "Dinner, with you and your parents when I get back. My treat."

Clara sniffled, wiping away tears that had begun to flow down her cheeks. "That's not the point!" She threw her hands up in surrender, walking away from him so that her back was turned. "Like I said, it's about something more than having dinner with someone. I know this girl is your friend, but we're together. And every time you bring her up…"

Paul stood wordlessly, waiting for her to continue.

"I try not to be bothered by it, I really do. But right now, I can't take it. Every time you bring her up, it makes me wonder."

"Clara—"

"No, let me finish," she answered evenly, turning on her heel to face him. Her cheeks were red and splotchy, fresh tears brimming in her eyes. "Because you obviously think I don't notice these things, but I do. That look on your face when you say her name, or…or when you're thinking about her. I know it's not me you're thinking of."

"Clara, please—"

"Don't play dumb with me, I'm tired of it," she sighed. "Ever since she came here over the summer, I've been competing with her. You say you're best friends, but I sincerely doubt that now. You may have been oblivious most of the time while she was here, but I saw her looking at you, so please, Paul, don't lie to me anymore."

Paul collapsed onto the couch with a defeated sigh, raking a hand through his hair. "Okay. It is true that we've been friends since we were kids; I wasn't lying when I told you that. But…we did date for awhile, until she decided to move to New York to be with her family and go to school. We knew the long distance thing wasn't going to work out for us, so we broke up and decided to stay friends."

"I can see that's working out well," Clara muttered cynically. "You know what? I'm not even pissed about the fact that you dated her as much as I thought I would be. What hurts is that you clearly haven't gotten over her."

Paul didn't have anything to say for himself, because he knew that Clara was absolutely right. It just took someone else—at a price—to admit it out loud for him to finally get it through his thick skull. He wished it hadn't come out like this, but there was nothing he could do to change it.

"I'm just some girl that you settled for, right?"

"I like you," Paul affirmed.

"But I'll never be her," she finished, knowing that there was more to that sentence. Sure, Paul probably liked her on some level, but it wasn't enough to sustain a relationship. "You and I both know we can't continue seeing each other if that's how you feel. I won't settle for being some…rebound girl. I'll be holding you back. So, go, Paul. Run off to the Big Apple and take back your little artist, just like I know you've been planning to do ever since she made you the offer."

Paul got up once more from where he had been sitting, following her on her determined, furious trek to the front door. She held it open for him, leaning on it like it was there to help her from breaking into a million little pieces. He felt extremely horrible for making her feel this way, and he didn't know if he could find the right words to make it better.

"I…I'm sorry it had to end like this," Paul told her, inwardly hating the 'I'm sorry' as soon as it left his mouth, "There's someone out there for you, Clara. It may not be me, but there is some guy who will treat you right. Now you can run off and find him."

"Goodbye, Paul."

There was a trace of a smile tugging at her lips, but it was gone once she shut the door in his face. And that was the end of that.

Now, he was seated on a plane that was ready to touch down in the City That Never Slept, to spend the holiday with the one person who knew him better than he knew himself. He had been slightly sad to see things end with Clara, but in the long run, it had been for the best. They weren't right for each other—Clara was correct in stating that they were simply holding each other back.

Paul could see the towering skyscrapers of New York City below the plane as they drew nearer to their destination. His stomach was anxious, but everything about this felt right. This was exactly where he was supposed to be; it took months of separation and a failed relationship to figure that out. He was here, on his way to be with Lizzy, and he wasn't leaving again until they both came to their senses. Long distance or not, the universe had declared that they didn't belong to anyone else but each other.