Omg! Last chapter! This journey has been great. It's been so fun to explore a whole new side of these characters other than the sides we see in the show and in my other story. I have had a blast writing it and I hope you've enjoyed reading it. I think I'm going to write an epilogue chapter but ONLY of I get atleast . . . 4 reviews. That sounds fair :) So tell me what you think! Thank you to azie, Sir Ray, and PD31 for reviewing last chapter! I really appreciate the support guys! So enjoy the last offical chapter of Then and Now! Oh and P.S., I have a new poll up so, info at the bottom of chapter. ENJOY!

"Ugh. Sorry." I said to Freddie as I bumped into him, again, as I was pacing, well, more like running, back and forth across my dorm room. I was packing to go home. Home. It was such a general term, but it had so many meanings. Home – a place of residence. Home - an institution for the ill or homeless. Now that I was thinking about it, I didn't really know what home was. I had always associated home with Seattle, the place where I grew up. But lately, it hadn't felt like much of a home. It had been the place where Freddie and I had broken up, he had slept with Sam, and lied to me, about numerous things. My mom's house was home for a while, but now that I was gone, what was it? It was just a place where she lived now, alone. And I was here, in a dorm, which was certainly not home. I mean, with the amount of time Freddie and I had spent in it, making, ahem, memories of our own, I could've considered it home. But it wasn't. I didn't know what was home these days. But I did know that I was freaking out. Freddie kept telling me it was okay and that I would be fine but I didn't believe him. I mean, how could I? After 3 years of torturous curiosity on where my rapist had been and when he would get caught, I finally found out. I had always thought that I would feel better or have some kind of relief. At first I did, like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, but now I just felt scared and unsure of myself. All of the questions that arose 3 years ago had all came back to me: "Why me, of all people?" and "Who the hell was he?" and "What did he want with me?" Those questions weren't going to get answered by sitting around doing nothing. So, I was packing to go visit my mom for the first time since the start of college. It wasn't the best of situations, but I needed to see her and she had answers.

"Carly." Freddie said sternly.

"What?" I answered back harshly. He took the jeans that I had in my hands and laid them in the suitcase for me and then grabbed my shoulders, stopping my pacing once and for all. I sighed, but gave in and leaned into him. He smelled of Axe, his signature scent.

"We don't have to go." He told me, hugging me tighter.

"I want to."

"Why? It's just going to make you more upset." I looked at him, questionably. "When you find out who he is and why he did it to you, it's probably going to trigger some hidden feelings. Anger, I mean."

"How do you know?"

"I'm minoring in psychology, remember?" He smiled at me. I smiled back.

"I know you're right, to an extent. I know it's going to make me mad, but it's also going to give me a sense of . . . of . . ."

"Relief." He finished for me.

"Exactly." I took his hand into mine and placed it on my hip. He took the hint and pulled me in. His lips tasted of the mint gum he had been chewing earlier. I smiled against his mouth. His hand trailed up from my hip to my cheek, pulling my face in further. He paced back a few steps until his heel hit the bed, causing him to fall back, with me on top of him. The feeling of passion was apparent, on both sides. Freddie groaned low in his throat as his grip on my hip became stronger. When I parted my lips, a small weep of desire escaped my mouth. I wrapped my legs around his body as we sat up on the bed. With me on top of him like that, it was going to be hard to tell him that we needed to stop. I pulled back slightly, just enough so that I could talk. Our noses were still touching.

"We need to go to sleep so we can wake up for 6." He nodded. I kissed him one more time them hopped off of him to finish packing. He took his shirt off first, followed by his pants. I tried my best to concentrate on packing, but his 6 pack and lack of coverage was making it difficult. I closed my bag, changed into some Soffe shorts and a tank top, and settled in bed next to Freddie. His eyes were already closed but when I slid in next to him, his body glided over closer to mine and took me in. I rested my head on his shoulder. It wasn't every day we had a chance like this. Either Michaela was always over here eyeing us, or one of Freddie's obnoxious roommates were already in his bed banging another chick. So tonight, I laid there with my boyfriend, waiting for tomorrow to come, waiting for answers.

The next day

"So how is it being back?" I asked Sam, holding up the phone with my one free hand. I was attempting to open a Nature Valley bar with the other one. Freddie, noticing my struggle, grabbed it and opened it for me, all while driving the car. I smiled at him and took a bite from it.

"Eh, it's alright. I miss you guys, though. Well, not so much him."

"I get it." I glanced at Freddie, but he didn't seem to notice.

"So . . . um, listen. I'm sorry for . . . you know, what happened to you." I had fessed up to Sam when my mom had called her to tell her the "good news", assuming she had already known. She hadn't. The only person, besides my mom, that I had told was Freddie. I hadn't even told Spencer. That time was coming, I knew, but I wasn't ready. Maybe when I knew more about it myself, then I'd be able to explain to him.

"It's okay. It's not like it's your fault." I sucked in a breath. "It's nobody's fault but my own."

Freddie's head immediately turned to glare at me. I tried my best to look out my own window. "What are you talking about?" Sam asked harshly.

"It's my fault. If I hadn't been so stupid, then maybe -"

"Shut up."

"Excuse me?" I asked, offended.

"How in the hell would this be your fault? You had no control over any of it."

"Well, once I get more answers I'll find out for sure. Look, I have to go. We have a long drive ahead and I'm really tired. I'll call you later?"

She sighed. I could tell, just by her tone, that she was rolling her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. I'll talk to you later."

I half smiled but didn't say anything else. When I hung up the phone Freddie was still managing to stare at me while driving the car. "What?" I said, not looking at him.

"You don't really think that this was your fault. Do you?"

I looked up, at him, into his eyes. My hands flew to my face, quickly wiping away the tears that escaped. "I don't know." I lied. I blamed myself fully for the situation. I mean, how could it not be my fault? I was the one who decided to walk by myself. I was the one who decided to investigate when I heard a sound in the bushes. I was the one.

Freddie let out a sigh, but then focused back on the road. I knew he thought I was an idiot for letting myself think that it was my fault. But I couldn't help it. Who else could I blame it on? It had to be someone's fault and I was the number one suspect, so why not mine? The rest of the ride was extremely awkward. I felt like he was staring at me the entire time. Well, more like glaring. Whenever I shifted in my seat, I could hear a low groan in his throat, as if the sound of leather and my jeans colliding was aggravating to him. When we stopped to get gas, he would slam the door, take forever filling the car up, and then back in, not speaking a word to me. I tried to make conversation, but he always shut it down. I even tried talking about the weather, but apparently he already knew the forecast for the next week. Anytime that I tried turning the radio on, he immediately turned it off, claiming he didn't like the songs. When we finally stopped for dinner, I insisted we go sit down, instead of going through the drive through. He protested, but in the end, I won. Atleast sometimes I could.

"Can I have a . . . number ten?" I asked the cashier.

She rolled her eyes. "The meal?" I nodded. "Is that it?"

Freddie stepped up. "A number 6. The meal."

"It'll be right out." She handed us two cups and called the couple up from behind us. Freddie took my cup and went over to fill them up as I found us a table. I re-glossed my lips, thinking that maybe it would get me some attention from Freddie. Not that it mattered anyway. Freddie had never been one to go for looks. He liked a girl with personality. I guess he liked mine. But what he hated was when girls (or anyone for that matter) didn't tell him what was going on with them. I remembered when he would always poke me (playfully) when I was upset until I would fess up. He just wanted me to be happy again. And that's exactly what he wanted now.

When he got back he didn't speak. Great, I thought. Now I have to start. "So, what did you order?"

"Chicken sandwich." He kept glancing around the Chic-fil-a, a couple people catching his eye and making him want to look a little longer (a little girl and boy chasing each other) but he eventually moved on and looked around the restaurant a little more.

"Can you look at me please?" He did. "Why are you so mad?"

"I'm not . . . it's just I don't like when you do that. You know that you can tell me anything, right? I actually prefer it if you do. You know, tell me stuff."

I looked down at my Sprite, stirring it with my straw, willing myself not to break down in a restaurant. On normal circumstances, I wouldn't. But the topic was such a touchy one it was hard to stay sane. "I know that. It's just that sometimes I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it's embarrassing! Openly discussing my rape wasn't exactly on my Christmas list this year."

"I know it's embarrassing with some people. But not with me. I'll be there for you no matter what."

"You say that now."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Why would I -"

"Customer 267!" The cashier yelled throughout the place. Freddie angrily pushed his chair away and went to retrieve our food. When he got back, he took the food off of the tray and set it on the table. While he was doing this I studied him. Over the years that we had known each other, I gathered a few things about him. For instance, when he got mad, his brow was always furrowed and he would inch his eyebrow up more every time he got more upset. It used to make me laugh, but when he did it to me, it kind of made me sad. He rarely got mad at me, but when he did, it made me feel excluded, as if he didn't want me in anymore. That was the worst feeling in the world.

"Are you . . . ever going to talk to me again?" I asked, half joking but mostly serious.

"I'm eating." He stuffed the chicken sandwich into his mouth, disabling him from talking any further. I sighed and then started picking at my chicken nuggets but didn't plan on eating any of them, I just needed something to do. He looked up at me for a moment, sort of sympathetically, but went back to eating. When we got back into the car, I leaned my head up against the window which was cold due to the rain that was pouring on the outside of it.

"The, um, hotel we're staying at is about an hour away." He told me. I nodded, facing away from him. "Carly, I -"

"Don't, okay? Just don't."

At the hotel

When the light switched on, I was expecting a couch, a mini fridge, and maybe a TV. But no. Being Freddie, of course he got the deluxe suite. The first thing I noticed was the 64" flat screen sitting next to the brand new PS3. They were in front of a black leather couch accompanied with a glass coffee table. But the living room was nothing compared to the kitchen. It was shining with black granite and stainless steel appliances. The lights on the ceiling hung low above the island. I glazed my hand over the smooth counters as I made my way over to the window that took up the entire wall in the living room. I had never been afraid of heights, due to the fact that I lived on the 17th floor at Bushwell, but the view in the room was nothing compared to my apartment. The street lights glowed from below me and I could faintly see colorful laser lights revolving in patterns in the distance, probably from a concert, I figured. I turned back to Freddie.

"This is amazing. You're sure this isn't too much?" I asked, running my hands along the silk curtains.

"No, it's fine. I was saving up for some big adventure that I planned for us, but I guess this is a good exception." He smiled a bit, but turned away to put or bags in the bedroom. When he came back, I was ready to confront him. I was ready to yell at him, to scream at him, to – "I'm sorry."

That caught me off guard. I stepped back and sat down on the couch, looking at him. "I know. I am too."

He sat down next to me. "I got mad at the restaurant because . . . Carly, after everything we have been through together, why would you think that you can't tell me anything? Why would you think that if you told me something embarrassing, it would change the way I look at you? Just . . . why? I don't get it."

"Of course you don't get it. You've never had a secret this big that -" I stopped immediately when he glared at me. I had forgotten about Justin. I had actually been thinking about him a lot lately. Like how at the sound of Sam's name Justin would perk up and smile. And at the sound of Freddie's he would run down the hall trying to find him. He was absolutely beautiful. I shouldn't have been surprised. I mean, he was Freddie's kid. "I'm sorry. I know he's a sensitive subject."

He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "Exactly." I looked at him questionably. "If I can talk about him to you, then you can talk about that to me." I nodded, understanding his logic.

"Can we get changed? I want to lie down."

"Sure."

It took me approximately 35 minutes, not including my shower, to get ready. I couldn't decide whether to put my hair up or down. It looked kind of cute and messy up, but down, it look wild and sexy. I also couldn't choose between a t-shirt or a camisole. The camisole was tight and showed off my curves, whereas the t-shirt was Freddie's and would make him feel like I was 'his'. After I decided on some Aeropostal plaid sweatpants, my camisole, and boot slippers, hair down, by the way, I concluded that it didn't really matter. He had said it himself. Nothing would make me look any different to him. Even if I wore a neon, glow in the dark shirt I would still be Carly to him. But that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. As I walked into the bedroom, he was already sitting on the bed looking through the TV guide, but I figured he wasn't planning on watching TV when he looked up at me and made a space for me on the bed. I climbed on and sat down on my knees, facing him.

"You're right you know." I told him.

"I know." He smirked. "Wait, about what?"

"Being comfortable with each other. If you can share personal and intimate details about . . . you know, then I should be able to talk about my . . . my . . ."

"You don't have to say it. I know it's hard." He placed his hand on my cheek, almost making me cry. Earlier today, I would've gotten pissed at him for feeling sorry for me or showing any kind of sympathy because I hated being someone's charity case. But it was different now. He had clearly stated that we were in this together, and if together meant feeling and/or receiving feelings like sympathy or any other emotion I wasn't particularly a fan of, then I was just going to have to suck it up. Love was about sacrifices.

"Do you miss him?" I asked Freddie, his hand still softly stroking my cheek.

He nodded. "Like hell. I try not to think about it too much."

"Why? He's your son."

"Because if I do, I will think about the childhood he could have with me. But that's not what's best for him. He needs a family. An actual family. Not two teenagers that accidently got pregnant, who don't even like each other, raising him. That wouldn't be good. And so when I don't think about it too much, the details don't really stick out. I just know that he's happy, so I'm happy."

I smiled at him. I ran my hand up his arm and scooted closer to him, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off of his body. He was so damn warm. "That's beautiful."

He chuckled. "Not really. It's just how I think. Sam thinks differently, though. She thinks about him nonstop, which isn't necessarily a good thing, nor is it bad."

"I get it. It's what you said: if you think about the details too much, you get too wrapped up in it and over think. If you don't, you don't get into it too much and only see the good things." He nodded. "I guess that's how it is with me, too."

He thought about it for a second, then said, "Want to elaborate on that a little?'

"Sometimes I stay up at night just going through that night in my head, every single detail. And when I do, everything points to it being fault. The perfume that I sprayed, the clothes I wore, the jewelry I bought, even the shoes that I had on. If I had wore jeans and a t-shirt, maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't of happened."

"You don't know that."

"Which is why I shouldn't think about it too much. But before tomorrow, before I get answers, it's just going to be a big, red arrow pointing to me labeled 'YOUR FAULT'." I laid down, and buried myself in the covers, disconnecting the contact we had been keeping between us. He stayed sitting, looking down at me. I expected him to carry on with the conversation, try to persuade me into thinking it wasn't my fault, but he didn't. He bent down over me, kissed me on the forehead, long and hard, and laid down next to me, wrapping one of his arms around me.

"I love you." He whispered so close to my ear. It was so soft it felt like silk running down my neck. "Good night."

"Good night."

The next day

"Finally, it's sunny." Freddie said when we got out onto the highway. Yesterday had been a rainy mess and today it was finally starting to clear up. Of course it had to do with border change and all that but it was still nice to see the sun shine.

"Yeah, it's really pretty today." I tried to keep my voice low and my replies short. I didn't want him to be able to hear my shakiness or nervousness.

He looked over at me, studying me for a moment, but then looked back at the road. "You alright?"

"Mmhmm."

"Ok? Um, well, we have about 3 hours until we get to your mom's so feel free to sleep or something."

"You don't want to talk to me?"

"Of course I do! I just figured you wouldn't want to." He turned his blinker on and changed lanes.

"I don't know what I would talk about. I guess I'm anxious. Both to see my mom and get answers. I hope she has them."

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Well, maybe the police are waiting to tell me or something. I don't know, I've never done this whole crime thing before!" I flew my hands up in the air, getting frustrated. Not at him, more like the situation.

"Neither have I, so I guess we'll experience it together, right?"

I nodded. About an hour into the ride we hadn't talked. I assumed it was because he didn't know what to talk about but when we were younger we would always find something to talk about, even if it was something extremely boring, like the amount of water you should have per day. I didn't understand why it had to be so different nowadays. We were the same people. Sure, we had gone through some rough patches, but those situations didn't define who we were. I was Carly and he was Freddie, same as when we were in high school. So I went for it.

"So, is it weird how Mr. Turner has, like, no facial hair?"

He turned and glanced at me quickly, obviously taken off guard. "Um, what?"

"Mr. Turner? Our substitute for cooking class a couple weeks ago? I just think it's strange."

He suddenly caught on to what I was trying to do: have a normal conversation about the weirdest thing, like we used to do. "Um, it doesn't exactly strike me as odd. He's a young dude." I heard a horn honk and an angry older man speed up and give the car in front of us the finger.

"Well, I just think it's weird. When guys don't shave for even a day, they get a little stubble. He never has stubble."

"Do you spend your cooking classes staring at his face?"

"It's very attractive." I said playfully.

"But not as attractive as mine, right?" He stroked his face with his hands.

I turned away and laughed (and blushed). "Eh, you're alright. And technically, I'm an adult, so I could easily leave you for him.

"But you wouldn't."

"Why?"

"'Cause you love me."

"Says who?" As I said this, we were getting slower and slower, heading into traffic, until we came to an official stop.

"Says me." And then he kissed me. His tongue parted my lips and entered my mouth. He grabbed my face with his hands and pulled me in further. My seat belt restricted me from getting any closer to him, but I was perfectly fine with the position we were in. I smiled against his mouth when horns started beeping and people yelling at us to go, but we weren't bothered. Just happy.

At the house

When we pulled up to the house, it didn't look different at all. Actually, it looked exactly the same as it did when I left. Same untended garden, same rusty shutters, same peeling rocking chairs sitting on the porch along with the same garden gnomes that I had always hated. I stepped out of the car and breathed in the smell of fertilizer from the garden and chlorine from the pool in the back. My mom had told me she was going to redo the front yard, but as I expected, she hadn't gotten around to it, or she just gave up. I laughed at the thought. Whenever she thought something was too hard or too boring, she always said she would get back to it later, which she would never do. As I walked over the lawn, I felt the wetness of the bright, green grass through my flip flops, giving me the assumption that the sprinklers had just gone off. I grabbed Freddie's hand as we walked up the porch.

"Just a warning, my mother is a little . . . eccentric." I laughed as I told him.

"What do you mean?" He asked, pulling my hand down as I was raising it to ring the doorbell, becoming hesitant.

"I guess that's not the right word. She's just . . . you'll see." With a questioning look still on his face, I rang to doorbell twice, letting her know that we were here. She never answered the door to one doorbell. She always said that if they really want to see her, they'll put effort into it. And ringing twice was effort in her case.

When the door opened, I saw my mother. She was tall and thin, just like she had always been. Her long brown hair was wavy, like beach waves. She had on a white sundress that she had pulled over some dark boot cut jeans. Her sandals were sky blue but that's what made them great. I didn't even get to say hi before she pulled me into a hug. I felt her warm, salty tears land on my shoulder as she whispered things into my ear. Stuff like 'I missed you so much' and 'I love you, baby'. I wanted to cry, cry with her, for her, but I had been crying for the past couple of days and I was tired. My eyes physically burned.

"Ah! Look at you!" She exclaimed when she finally let go. She turned me around, getting a 360 view of my jean Capri's, Freddie's SU (Seattle University) t-shirt, and 10% off flip flops. But it didn't matter what I was wearing. I was her daughter, and to her, I was always beautiful. "You've grown so much!" I smiled at her.

"Um, mom? This is Freddie. Freddie, this is my mom, Carrie."

They smiled at each other. "Nice to meet you. I've heard wonderful things about you." Freddie told my mom, charmingly.

"Oh, they're probably lies." She said jokingly. They both laughed then looked at me awkwardly. "So, let's get you guys inside." She walked back into the kitchen where she had already set up a sort of buffet style lunch. On the island there were PB&J sandwiches, a variety of chips in different bowls, various sodas, a tray of cupcakes, homemade cookies, and corn chips with salsa and cheese dip. I looked at Freddie with an 'I told you so' look. "I didn't know if you guys would be hungry, so I just laid this out for you. Take whatever you like." Suddenly, the phone rang and she scrambled to the other side of the room to answer it. "Hello? . . . Hey baby! . . . Actually, she just arrived . . ." She held up an index finger, indicating she would just be a moment, then left into the connecting dining room.

As Freddie helped himself to the food, I made my way over to the fridge. It was covered in familiar faces, but also faces that I had never seen before. I saw Spencer a couple of times, a few when he was younger and then a few more with Isabelle and Charlotte. I smiled at them, suddenly aware that I had been missing him a lot lately. I slid my hand over the picture, making the feeling even stronger. As my eyes wandered a little more, I saw me. At the time, I had been sleeping and just woke up, getting aggravated at my mother for flashing the camera in my face. She had told me I would look back on it one day and smile. I didn't think she would be right. My hand flew to my face, feeling the smile that had emerged on my face, just causing me to smile more.

"Beautiful, right?" I jumped. My mom was standing next me, staring at the picture with a loving expression.

"I guess. I don't really consider myself beautiful these days." I said quietly, making sure Freddie couldn't hear me.

She started idly stroking my hair. "Why not?"

"Mom, you know why." I walked away from her, filled a plate with some chips, and sat down next to Freddie, who was just about done with his meal. My mom joined us at the table and folded her hands. I could tell she wanted to talk, but was waiting for my approval to start, not wanting to upset me. I started eating my chips, trying to distract myself.

"So, Carrie," Freddie said, breaking the silence. "How's life been here without Carly?"

She looked at me. "Lonely. I missed my girl."

"I know the feeling." Freddie told her but was looking at me. I knew that if my mom wasn't here, we wouldn't be across the table from each other. My hands would be on his cheeks and his on my hips. He reached over and grabbed my hand, causing my mom to say,

"Aw! You guys are adorable." She leaned in close to my ear and whispered, "He's totally hot, too."

"Mom!" I exclaimed embarrassingly. Freddie laughed, obviously having heard what she said. I blushed a little, but collected myself enough so I could speak seriously again. "Ok, so we all know why we came."

My mom's expression changed drastically from playful to worried. I heard Freddie suck in a breath and pull his hand back. I wanted to touch him, have some sense that I wasn't alone, but he scooted closer to me in his chair, and lightly wrapped his arm around my waist. I sighed in relief. "Yeah." Was all my mom could say.

I waited a moment for her to continue. When she didn't, I said, "So?"

"You really want to know?"

"I can't think about anything else, mom! I keep thinking that this is all my fault, and maybe, just maybe, if you tell why this all happened, I can finally . . . I can finally let it go."

A tear strolled down her cheek, unwillingly. She turned away quickly. I knew she never liked to break down in front of me. I hated when she did, too. But only because it made me cry as well. I gripped Freddie's hand tighter. "Alright. It, um, all started back when you guys first started the web show. He took an interest in you, Carly. The police said he had had 3 wives with dark hair, all of which he . . . um . . . Carly, I'm not sure I should tell you all of this."

"Please." I wept. My eyes burned of unshed tears that I was willing myself not let go of them.

"He murdered them. The police said you should consider yourself lucky that you got away. He, um, heard through the grapevine I guess that you moved here with me. The security cameras that I have set up around the house caught him lurking in the bushes about a week ago. I wasn't allowed to tell you until a couple days ago. I didn't even want to tell you. I thought that maybe this would be too much for you . . . is it? You know, too much?"

At that point, my hands had been trembling and Freddie had pulled me closer, making the shaking go away, atleast a little bit. I repeated the words in my head: interest, dark hair, 3 wives, murdered, lucky, caught, police. Once in my life, atleast I thought, I had said those words, all of them, but not together like that. When you said all of those words together, it sounded horrible. Like gargling salt water when you had a cut on your throat; it burned. I couldn't process any of the information that I had gotten. Questions and thoughts were running wildly through my mind, blocking out all of the "Carly?"'s and "Are you okay?"'s I was getting from Freddie and my Mom. "What's his name?" I choked out.

"Um, Charles. Charles Shanto. But, sweetie, he's going to jail! And I need you to know, this is not your fault whatsoever. It could've happened to anybody." I nodded, finally believing it. It wasn't my fault. I didn't do anything wrong. Nothing bad happens to good girls. Although that statement wasn't exactly true, it gave me a sense of relief. Not the relief that anything bad is never going to happen to me, but the relief that I was going to be okay, eventually. I was still processing, still coping, and probably would be until I found something new to worry about. But with my Mom and Freddie's support, I could finally breathe. Finally let go. Finally fall.

"I love you, mom." Without waiting for her response, I jumped out of Freddie's arms and into my mom's. I heard her muffled sobs right by my ear, causing me to cry even harder. "I missed you so much." I whispered.

"Oh, baby . . ." I felt Freddie's hand softly rub my back, letting me know that he was still there, still with me. I smiled at the feeling that I got when he touched me. It could've been something as simple as a high five that would send shivers up my spine. And the thought that I was all his, all the time, just gave me the straight out chills. I loved him. And then it hit me. I was surrounded by people that I loved and people that loved me. It didn't matter where I was, whether it was Bushwell, my small dorm, or my mother's middle class house. As long as I was with my family, the people that would be there for me no matter what, I was home.

Back at Seattle University

"Great to have you back!" Michaela squealed as she pulled me in for a hug. I wrapped my arms around her, not being able to resist her welcoming tone. I heard Freddie from behind me unpacking my bags for me and putting away clothes in various drawers. Michaela let go and said, "How was the trip?"

"Good. It felt great to see my mom again. How was school without me? Have the rumors been getting worse?" I asked her, referring to the rumors about me that I had treated Freddie like crap and then dumped him. They had started about a week ago when all of the Sam-Freddie drama had risen.

"Actually, they're dying down. Everybody's interested in Serra's pregnancy now."

"What!" Freddie and I exclaimed in unison.

"Yeah, apparently some guy knocked her up. It wasn't you, was it? You guys went out didn't you?" Michaela eyed him.

"We never slept together. I swear." He put a hand on his heart and kissed me on the cheek. Then, he focused his attention back on Michaela.

"Oh, well then I have no idea. Everyone thinks its Mr. Turner. You know, the substitute. Sources tell me he snuck into her room a few weeks back and students heard . . . noises." Michaela giggled. I forced a smile on my face, while Freddie just all out stopped listening. I heard a vibration and Michaela answered her phone. "Hello?"

" . . ."

"Well, my roommate just got back, can't it wait?"

" . . ."

"Oh shoot! That's tomorrow?"

" . . . ! . . ."

"Alright, I'm on my way. Calm down, drama queen." She shut her phone and grabbed her bag quickly. "Sorry to leave as soon as you get back, but I have a history project due tomorrow and my partner and I aren't even half done! I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"Bye, girl." And then she was gone.

I turned back to Freddie, who had just finished with my clothes. "Thank you." I gave him a quick kiss, wrapped my arms around him, and pulled him down on the bed with me. I could tell he wasn't in the 'mood' to do anything, too tired from traveling for 12 hours, but just laying there with him was enough. I had always loved watching him sleep. His eyes wildly moving under his eyelids, as if he were having a nightmare or wonderful dream that was so real to him, that I would feel bad for waking him up. Now, he was lying next to me, his fingers intertwined with mine, and his eyes were clothes. "Freddie?"

"Yeah?" He said, eyes still closed.

"I love you. Like . . . like a lot."

He opened his eyes and turned his head toward me. "Aw." He laughed.

"Do you think that someday we could have our own children?" I asked him, throwing him off guard for a moment, causing him to flinch. "Not any time soon. Don't worry. I was just asking for future reference. You know, for when we're married."

He smiled. I didn't know if he was smiling because he thought I was kidding, or if he just thought that that was absolutely ridiculous. "You want to get married?"

"Again, not any time soon."

"And why would I want to marry you?" He asked, jokingly, getting closer and closer to my lips.

"Because you love me."

"Says who?" His lips made contact with mine, but not too much that I couldn't talk.

"Says me."

THE END! Well, possibly. First off, I hoped you liked the chapter! I thought it was adorable btw :) So, I may do an epilogue, again, if I get atleast 4 reviews. If not, eh, idk. But the poll I'm doing could change that. The poll is about sequel stories. Should I do a sequel to Beautiful Unraveling? Or Then and Now? I will ask for suggestions about what they would be about after I get a winner. But please vote and review! Hope to get good feedback! Love yall! Bye for now :)