A/N--Heya guys! So this is the final chapter of Well...Not Anymore.  I know that Lucas and Naomi were extremely frustrating characters and that most of you hated either one of them at some point, but that's kind of how I intended for them to be! They're in high school and have that immaturity to them that all high schoolers have (no offense if you're in high school, you know it's true!).

Naomi has dealt with a lot of hurt/rejection in her life so of course she's going to be suspicious when things are going so well (which is why she ran, so people give her a break!) and Lucas was supposed to be the typical good-looking jock with a heart of gold but who just got caught up in the rush of popularity.  So yeah.  Hate all you want but I do love these characters and I hope you learned to as well!

I want to say thanks (I feel like this is the beginning to an Oscar's speech) to every single person who commented or voted or fanned. You are seriously the most amazing people on the planet and I love you to the moon and back (corny, eh? :P)

But I'm not going to say much else, other than that this is not the cliche ending where they wake up in bed and have kids running around!  No, I can't end a story like others have been ended.  Sure it's a bit unorthodox, but I like it :)  And to the characters that we don't see in this last chapter, let's just say that they're doing well, alright?  I feel like this is all the last chapter really needs.

SO ENJOY PLEASE :)

I didn't go.  

I just couldn't do it.  

I'd gotten all the way to the bus station, had taken a cab and everything to get there by the way, only to turn back at the very last minute. Why? I honestly don't know. The whole way I'd walked there I'd seen different faces flash throughout my eyes. I'd seen Drew, Destiny, Zara...Lucas. I'd seen a whole lot of Lucas in my mind actually. I'd seen that smile that he gives me every time I'm in my silly mood and he feels like he doesn't have to worry about me. I'd seen that blissfully content expression that he has on every time I wake up and he's there with me. 

I saw the expression on his face that I knew he'd have when he found out that I'd gone. Sure there was that insecure part of me that I thought was so strong telling me that he probably didn't care and that he'd run off back to Destiny or something. But there was just this huge gnawing at my chest that he wasn't going to be able to brush off my leaving so easily, that he was going to struggle with it. 

And even though he has hurt me in the past and even though he may not deserve my trust quite so easily, I still love him. I still missed him like crazy even though I hadn't actually left yet. Just the mere thought of not seeing him every day was awful.  

So I decided to be selfish. I decided to just soak up every single minute that I have with this boy kneeling in front of me right now, looking like the earth has just shifted underneath his feet. I honestly didn't know that he'd take so long to get back to his house or else I would've gone inside to talk to his mom or something, seeing as how I've been out here since three o'clock or so.  

Ever since Lucas was supposed to have gotten out of school. 

But he never did show and so I just sat here on the porch, my hood drawn over my head while watching different people walk up and down the streets. I thought about calling or texting him, worrying just a bit, but I figured that he'd either gone to work with Zara or had practice or was with his friends or something. 

I didn't want to be a bother. I know that me saying I was going to leave was utterly dramatic, and to be honest, I'm kind of embarrassed by it. I overreacted to everything Drew said to me earlier on today I know I did, and I hate that I took the cowardly way out of it and tried to leave. And I was so scared that Lucas was going to hate me for even thinking of leaving. 

Now that he's kneeling in front of me, though, and I can see the expression on his face, I know that he doesn't hate me. But something is wrong, because his brilliant blue eyes are rimmed in red and his face looks beyond distraught.  

So I reach out and, pushing all of today behind me and acting like it didn't even happen, I place my fingers on his cheek and brush the tips against his stubble, loving it's roughness. I meet his marred eyes with my own and, swallowing back the huge lump of emotion that's in my throat just because I finally get to see his face after the mess of a day today, point out, "You've been crying." 

His eyes close after I say this, and I can just feel the twitching of his jaw on my fingertips. He reaches one of his hands up and lays it over my own, pulling it away from his cheek so that our fingers can intertwine together, sending a shot of warmth up my arm. His voice sounding tired and strained, he says, "You didn't leave." 

"No," I respond, for some reason feeling tears starting to climb their way up my throat. I don't want to cry right now, I honestly don't want to be even more of a drama queen after the stunt I pulled today, but there's something about how raw and unhinged Lucas is acting right now that just makes me want to curl into his lap and never leave. "I didn't." 

His eyes finally snap back open and peer into mine; the sincerity and passion in them almost making me want to look away. "I honestly..." he starts, but his voice trails off before he can even finish the sentence. I squeeze his hand in reassurance, knowing that every time he does this to me it makes me feel just a little bit better. And just like matching clockwork, he gives me a brief smile before continuing, "I honestly thought you weren't coming back. I..." he trails off once more, but he just squeezes his eyes closed tight for a moment and then opens them right back up and continues, "I finally thought that you'd gotten so sick of me that you just left. I thought you hated me." 

The fact that he's thought all of these things makes my heart thud painfully against my chest. He has to know that I could never hate him-never. Although he definitely deserved my hatred at points in time, I honestly don't believe I ever gave it to him. I may have thought that I hated him when we were no longer friends, but I never did. I just hated the fact that he gave me up, that he was able to give up the kind of friendship we had. Did I actually ever hate him though? Not at all. 

I love him too much to ever hate him. 

I go to tell him something along those lines-not the actual thing though, that's just sappy-but he cuts me off when he mumbles brokenheartedly, "You should hate me. I've been so terrible to you." 

I smile halfheartedly, the small dark side of me thinking that it's a good thing that he understands this. He was terrible to me once, he should suffer. But the majority of me, about ninety-nine percent of my whole being just wants to cry because he's being so damn hard on himself. Yes he was awful to me at one point in time, but he's been so wonderful to me. So wonderful, and that should definitely overshadow everything else he's done. 

I scoot in closer to him and then place both of my hands on the side of his face, begging for him to just stop looking down at his feet guiltily and to just look up at me and realize that I don't hate him. It takes a second for his blue eyes to meet mine, and when I see that there are unshed tears in them, I can't help but let out a soft laugh. Never in my life have I seen him act this way, seen him so upset. It warms my heart in a sick and twisted way because it shows me just how much he truly cares for me. 

Running my thumb underneath his bottom lip, I tell him sincerely, "I could never hate you, Lucas. Honest." 

He says in a broken whisper, "You really should." 

I shake my head at him and say, "No...I really shouldn't. Look, what you did two years ago, it sucked. It sucked big time. I had a really hard time getting through sophomore and junior year. But how you've been to me recently...it makes up for it. It so does." 

"Then why'd you almost leave?" he asks me, "If not because of me then..." 

This time it's me who cannot look at him, who cannot tell him that I did in fact almost leave because of him but have been telling him all of these other things. I can't lie to him, not when I feel like our relationship is about to be started on a new ground. I don't want that ground to be lies. I want it to be on honesty. 

So that's why I tell him truthfully, "Well it was...because of you, I guess. But then I went and talked to Zara and she told me all of these things that I hadn't really thought of before. I still left though, but on the walk to the bus station, I got to thinking. I changed my mind." 

"Well," he says, his voice surprisingly stronger than it was moments before, "I'm really really happy you did. I don't know what I would have done without you here." 

"I'm sure you would've been fine," I tease lightly, trying to make this highly emotional scene outside lighten up a bit. There's been enough heartache and sadness today-too much, actually. But now that I know...now that I know how much he actually cares for me, I know that our relationship is going to be just fine. I know it will. 

He then scoots in closer to me, that dark and self-deprecating mood of his from moments ago easily disappearing. He grabs my legs from where they're stretched in front of me and then twines them around his waist, anchoring the two of us together. And then he cups my jaw in his hands, letting a pleasurable warmth spread throughout my belly, as he tells me, "I really would not have been. I would've been a wreck." 

"Well...I'm here now. I'm here for good."  

OoOoO 

I can feel him.  

His touch on my warm, bare skin.  

He's poking the shit out of me. 

"Stop it," I mumble roughly, turning over from where I've been sleeping facing away from him, my back pressed against his warm, taut chest throughout the night. My eyes somehow resisting the urge to look at the naked chest of my boyfriend, I then lean back into him and press my face against the crook of his side. His arm then slides across the bareness of my back, and at first I think that he's given up trying to wake me, but mere seconds later I feel the poking return. 

Why can't he just let me sleep? Why? It's not like I ever ask him for anything. Well...that's a lie, but still. Judging by the heaviness in my eyelids it's still pretty early in the morning. I mean, I know that we were up late into the night doing some...exhausting things, but it's not like we actually went to sleep at three in the morning or something. Since we haven't really had to do anything all summer but go into work, we've been going to bed pretty damn early. 

But that doesn't necessarily mean we have to wake up early, does it? 

His soft lips then press against my ear as he leans in to tell me, "Come on, Nay. We've put off getting your dorm stuff long enough...we leave in just a week." 

"I know, I know," I sigh, burrowing myself just a bit closer to him since I know that I'm going to have to get up pretty damn soon. I really don't want to. Cuddling with my boyfriend in his warm, amazing bed just sounds so much better than going out to buy things for a room I know I'm never going to be in. Lucas' parents have gotten him an apartment right off campus, and even though he begged for days and days for me to just move in there with him, I decided to keep with a dorm. 

Although it sounds like pure heaven to live with the guy-what if we ever get into a fight or something? And besides, I don't have my own car and our class schedules are going to be different and I just feel like it's going to be a hassle for the both of us. But still, I'm sure that I'm going to be here the majority of the time so it's not like I need to make my dorm all nice and pretty. I really just need the essentials. 

Which I can get at another time. I really just want to snuggle with my hot boyfriend until I fall right back to sleep so that I can have another one of those dreams where we do what we did in real life last night. 

Those dreams are the best. 

"Just give me five minutes," I mumble, already feeling the arms of sleep extend out towards me. It's just so calming and peaceful to be at his house when it's just the two of us, when it's a Sunday and we really don't have anything to do and it's not completely looked down upon to just spend all day in bed.  

And seriously, I don't know how he gets away with sleeping so little. He's been at the university's football camp all summer getting ready for the upcoming season and they run him practically to death. But it does make his muscles all tight and amazing and I'm not going to lie, I've really liked what the camp has done with him. 

Makes my man even more of a stud. 

That perfect chest of his vibrates the bed a little, letting me know that he's chuckling to himself like he does a lot now, and before I know it, I've fallen right back to sleep. 

OoOoO 

"Purple or green?" I ask Lucas, walking up to the first comforters I've seen all day that I actually like. These two have the same layout and look, but one is purple and a bright fuchsia color while the other is a pale green with aquamarine lines. I don't even know why I'm asking though, because as soon as the words are out of my mouth, my hand is up and grabbing the green comforter before tossing it into the shopping cart. 

Lucas looks at me amusedly, pointing out, "You didn't even let me say anything." 

I stick my tongue out at him and say, "I don't need your opinion on everything," before grabbing the shopping cart and pushing it towards where all of the pillows are. I've gotten pretty much everything on my list, the bedding and linen store being our last stop of the day, and I can honestly say that I'm itching to just pick up that pizza Lucas has been promising me all day and then head back to his apartment so that we can watch a movie before falling asleep together on the couch. 

That's been our ritual for after work just about all summer, with the exception of the Hamilton family beach vacation that they so graciously let me join in on, and I've loved every second of it. And even better? Lucas surprised me one day and when I'd gotten back to his apartment, my dog Pookie from home had been in the living room. Apparently Lucas had checked around town to see which pound my mom unleashed him at, and found him at one about twenty minutes off the interstate.  

And then he adopted him back for me. 

So the three of us are practically a little family, something that I can honestly say I've never felt a part of. But with Lucas, everything has pretty much been as easy as breathing. Sure we get into little scuffles here and there, like the day fight we had because I'd told him that I didn't want to kiss him because his breath stunk, but in the six months we've been dating we've really been just as happy as ever. I'm happier than I've ever been, for sure. 

"I still don't see why you're not just going to move in with me," Lucas muses as we walk through the crowded aisles to get the pillows. "It's so much more expensive this way." 

I sigh, so used to having this discussion with him by now that my response is practically rehearsed. I tell him, "I want some independence Luc. I've mooched off you for so long now; I want something that's my own. And if I have to take out some student loans in the process then so be it." 

He looks down at me and playfully protrudes his bottom lip before I saying, "I think it's just cause you don't love me." 

I roll my eyes at his self-pity act, loving that he's finally gotten out of the mindset that I actually don't love him because I don't want to live with him. That lasted a good week last month, and it truly did suck because I had no idea as to what I could have done to make him believe that I did love him. But he finally relented because it was putting a damper in our sex life-I refuse to sleep with him when he's angry with me-and now it's gotten to where he just jokes about it. 

Thank God.  

I don't think I could have gone much longer without the sex.  

So in response to his pitiful little act I just reach over and pinch the taut skin of his belly, squealing in fake anger when he does it right back at me. "You're such a loser," I tease, but completely contradict my words when I lean in closer to him and place a kiss against his cheek. 

He gives me the same love struck smile he always gives me and says, "Right back at ya babe." 

Five minutes later, I'm still going around and pinching different pillows to see which ones are fluffier and Lucas is standing at the buggy, rolling his eyes at me and looking at me like I'm crazy. I don't know why though. I'm sure he's going to spend a few nights at my dorm too, when I don't want to leave. He's not going to want a stiff pillow, is he? No. So I'm being smart by being so meticulous when it comes to this. 

He calls over at me, "Just pick one!" 

"No," I call back sternly, "I haven't found the right one yet." 

I hear him mumble a nice string of curse words underneath his breath at me, and I can't even bring myself to respond to him. Instead I just smile to myself-I still love getting underneath his skin-and then go back to feeling up all of the pillows. 

That is, until, I feel someone grab at my elbow.  

I place a good contender for a pillow underneath my arm so that I don't lose it and then turn around to see who it is. I almost drop that pillow though, when I see the familiar brown eyes and swoopy hair of Drew. What the hell is he doing here? 

And seconds later, I realize that there's someone hanging onto his elbow and when I avert my eyes, I see Destiny standing there, her once slim face looking a bit more swollen than it did at graduation. Oh, I forgot to mention that. Destiny's pregnant. Yeah, about a month after she and Lucas broke up, she slept with Drew in an effort to get some kind of revenge. 

That plan completely backfired, though, when he knocked her up.  

Apparently little Ms. Perfect isn't a big follower of the "no glove, no love" rule.  

"Hey guys," I say in an effort to be cordial, not wanting to start anything unnecessary. Anytime the four of us run into each other, you can guess that it's sufficiently awkward and tense. I know half the time I have to keep a hand on Lucas' arm so that he doesn't reach out and just punch Drew like I know he's been itching to do for quite some time now. 

In fact, I can feel my boyfriend's presence right at my back now, his hand reaching out and grabbing my waist in some kind of act of possession. Lucas isn't a big fan of other guys talking to me apparently, not after we went to some graduation party and his cousin tried to force himself on me. Most girls would probably be annoyed at the possessiveness, but I've come to realize that I'm just as bad when it comes to him. So I try not to get too irritated. In fact, I do find it somewhat endearing. 

Drew nods his head at me and says, "Hey Naomi...Lucas." He's so immature that he doesn't even bother keeping the malice out of his voice when he greets the stewing man standing behind me. 

I pinch Lucas' hand in a warning though, and I know that he knows I'm telling him to be good when I feel his chest deflate just a bit against my back. He greets him back, "Hey. How's it been going for you guys?" 

Internally I know that this is killing him, and I can't help to find some kind of amusement in it. I may love the guy and everything, but I still adore watching him squirm and I know that Drew is one of the biggest contributors in that. 

"Oh you know," Destiny answers before Drew can, her voice just a bit brighter than normal because she's trying to overcompensate for her boyfriend's rudeness, "Just getting stuff ready for the baby." 

"When are you due again?" I ask her in a feeble attempt at making conversation.  

She places a gentle hand against her protruding belly and says, "Two weeks now. I'm actually not supposed to be driving around much, but I can't have Drew pick everything out for my baby girl, now can I?" 

"It's a girl?" I ask her surprised, not having yet heard that tidbit of information.  

She nods happily, and then tucks a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear when it flies away. "Sure is," she says, "Grace Michelle." 

"I like it," I say honestly. Although I am definitely not one of Grace's biggest fans, I do feel somewhat for her. She's gone through a lot ever since she came out as being pregnant. She had to drop cheerleading, her parents pretty much disowned her, and most of her friends ditched her. So basically she just has Drew, which that in itself sucks. "Very pretty." 

"Thanks," she says, flashing a smile once again. "Took me forever to come up with it." 

"Well I like it," I say, and before I can go to say something else to her, Lucas pipes up from behind me, "Well we're kind of in a rush...we have a barbeque to get to. But it was awesome seeing you guys." 

Drew looks beyond relieved that he no longer has to stand in front of us while we make awkward small talk, and after they bid us a quick goodbye I can feel Lucas deflate as well. I turn around and see that my overprotective boyfriend is still looking in the direction that they left in, his mouth curved into a grimace. 

"Hey," I say, standing on my tip toes and placing my hands on his chest so that I can look into his eyes. "What's wrong?" 

Lucas looks back down at me and the moment our eyes click, I see some of that anger clouding his pretty blue eyes start to fade away, leaving the color of a darkened sky behind. He says, "Drew was just...he was looking at you." 

"Oh no," I gasp facedly, finding it somewhat amusing that he gets so worked up over some guy merely looking at me. Sure it's the only other guy that I've ever kissed and the guy that tried-and almost succeeded-to break us up, but still...Lucas knows that I love him. Why is he so worked up about Drew just looking at me? 

"No, but for real though..." Lucas says, winding his arms around my waist and pulling me in close. I look around the store to see if we have any objecting spectators, and when I see that the only other people in viewing distance are two high school girls looking at the pink throw pillows, I sink into him even further. He presses a kiss against the top of my head and says, "I just...I still worry, I guess. About him. It bothers me that he got to kiss you before I did." 

I roll my eyes and point out, "Drew and I kissed like twice, I believe. How many times have we?" 

That Cheshire cat grin of his takes a hold of his lips, and I can't help but want to giggle at the expression. "Exactly," I conclude, "So don't worry. And besides...I slept with you first. That's what really matters." 

"True," he says smoothly, bending forward and pressing a lingering kiss on my eager lips. When he pulls away, he says, "Sorry for being a freak about him. He just rubs me the wrong way." 

Just to mess with his head a little bit, I bite down on my bottom lip and push my hips just a bit more into his. He's not the only one who can be mischievous. I then lean in and, in the sexiest voice I can muster while we're both clothed and standing in the middle of a bedding store, whisper, "Well I can rub you in the right way." 

And just as quick as I've said it, I've bounded away from him and have headed straight back into the pillows like nothing happened. 

"I hate you," he calls over to me, "So much!" 

I whip my head around to face him and see him looking back at me, that brightly happy grin I've come to adore so much on his face.  

It's amazing how much you can love someone; it truly is.  

"Love you too."