Evelyn softly closed my manuscript and placed it onto her cluttered desk. We sat in her office with the morning sunlight streaming in from her open windows. A slight breeze was flowing through it and playing with our hair. Summer was almost coming to an end, but autumn, with all its colorful leaves, was coming soon.

Evelyn took off her glasses and leaned back against her black leather office chair, apparently in deep contemplation. "Well," she said, "This is certainly…different."

My face fell. I was uneasy about this latest work of mine for so many reasons. "You don't like it?"

"No, no, no," she quickly reassured me, "It's just different from what I'm used to from you."

"Are you saying I'm predictable?" I cracked a smile, trying to make light of the situation. My heart was beating unusually fast.

Evelyn gave me a calm, reassuring smile. It reminded me of a mother smiling before telling her child that the bug she just squashed wasn't going to live again. Maybe I was just in a bad mood.

"No, I'm just saying as someone who has read your work for almost ten years, I've seen the progression of your style and maturity. By far, this is the most developed and realistic writing I've seen from you yet." Evelyn cocked her head sideways and raised her eyebrow. "Almost as if you're writing from experience…"

I tried to hide my smile but I wasn't that good of a liar. "Ah…ya got me."

"Does this have anything to do with…?"

I grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, sort of."

She nodded as if I simply confirmed her suspicions. She sat there staring at her desk, nodding all the while. "You know what I think?"

"What?"

"That maybe you need to change your ending."

"What! Why?"

"It's too predictable! I mean she knocks on the door and they make up! Just like that! It's too perfect. Everything about your story felt pretty realistic until then. Why did you have to ruin it?"

"Wh-What!" I looked at her in disbelief. "Ruin it? That's what really happened! I mean I guess the ending does sort of fall into place, but it's not like I can change it…" My heart warmed at the thought. It felt like everything about my life was unbalanced until then, when everything seemed to fall in place. Just like it was supposed to be.

"-ello? HELLO? Serena? EARTH TO SERENA?"

My head snapped up. "Oh what? Yes, what? What were you saying?"

Evelyn shook her head and smiled. "Girl, you are gone on him aren't ya?"

I shrugged, "Maybe."

"Oh don't give me that. I can see it in your eyes. But let's not get into that before I make myself throw up."

I rolled my eyes.

"Listen, Serena. I'm really happy for the two of you, but if you really want to make this story work, you can't make it a happily-ever-after ending. You have to go all the way. I mean this is a big change for your character, for you! Think about it. When you meet someone new in your life, it's like you have to carve out a space for them in your schedule, your brain, your heart. Things like that don't happen that easily. For you and Darien, it was already set. Best friends from the start. But what happens now that he's no longer in the friend category, but in the boyfriend category. Someone that was once a like a brother is now a possible lover. In the movies, you don't see that transition. They make it look like it's an instant moment, but it's not. You get what I'm saying Serena?"

I nodded my head slowly. What she said was very true. She actually voiced some of the doubts I had about approaching Darien and taking things to the next level. But what if the timing wasn't right, or what if things didn't work out at the end? Do things go on as they were? With our Sunday brunches and Saturday night movies? Now that we're in this "couple" category, do we start holding hands? Does he have to pay for me at dinner now? Buy me flowers?

I shook my head. "Listen, Evelyn. I get what you're saying, but Darien and I just started out. I don't want to make things anymore confusing than it already is. I mean everyone has doubts at this stage, but I don't know if the reader would enjoy going through all of that. The thing is the reader can see the end of the book is approaching; I don't think they'd want another problem to arise. Think about it from the reader's point of view. It's maybe 1 A.M. in the morning, she has work or school tomorrow, but she can't wait to get to the end of the book and have a good night's sleep. Then towards the end, some more problems come up and now she can't sleep peacefully. See, I'm doing it for the benefit of the reader. They want a story to make them happy, not make them sad. So they pick my book up because they know I can deliver."

Evelyn smiled, but it wasn't the sort of smile I was used to seeing. It made me kind of nervous actually. "Since when did you write for the reader's benefit, Serena?"

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "I-I… what do you mean?"

Evelyn stood up and walked to the side of her desk, facing the window. "There was a client who came in once. She had a sparkle in her eye that showed me what a newbie she was," she chuckled, "But it also showed me that she had a passion for her writing. She wanted to tell the world a story, her story, something that no one else could duplicate or take from her because it was hers. And she went on to being a great success story, but lately I've wondered if things were beginning to change, if she was losing sight of her original vision, of herself."

She turned around and faced me. "Is this true, Serena? Do you not see yourself anymore? Have you chased the dream of love for so long that you've lost sight of who you were?"

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "I-I don't know what you're talking about."

She continued on, walking slowly around her office. "The idea of love as obsessed many for ages. What starts out as a pure passion turns into something… else. Love is about taking risks. If you play it safe all the time, then you end up letting yourself down."

"I did take a risk Evelyn. I took a risk by going to him when I wasn't sure he would still accept me." I looked down. "I thought I had a good chance of losing him."

Evelyn came to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulder. "I know you did honey, and I know how hard that was for you. I'm not saying you didn't take a risk there, but I'm asking you, if you really want to be real about this story, real about him, you need to take it one step further."

I looked up. "What are you suggesting?"

"I don't want this to be the ending. I want a real ending out of you, one that isn't really an ending."

"What? I'm confused. You want an ending but not an ending?"

"An ending doesn't have to be an end; it can be a continuation. What I mean is, I want you to explore with this. Every romance story out there ends up with the new couple, happy at last, then it's like the camera fades into the distance and it ends. But what kind of ending is that? Does real life really work that way? You want to give the readers a happy ending and something real, you can't stop there. You have to go further."

"Further? What do you mean further?"

Evelyn shrugged in her navy-blue blazer. "I don't know! You tell me! You're the one going out with him! Tell the readers what it's like! The newness of being a new couple. The awkwardness. Whatever makes you happy!" She pulled me out of the chair, shoved my manuscript in my hands, and pushed me towards the door. "Now go! Go write and be happy!"

I resisted her like a person who was about to be sent to the gallows. "But…but how am I going to continue? This is how I always end a story! I… I don't know what to do after that!"

Evelyn pushed me through the doorway and swung the door to her side. "Listen, honey. You're the writer, not me. You need to use that little brain of yours and give me something fantastic. Something that will make this book fly off all the shelves in the world! Don't play it safe! Goodbye!"

She smiled almost too gleefully and slammed the door on me.

Ugh.

What was I going to do now?

The walk home was refreshing. I thought I'd do some thinking so I decided to walk the twenty city blocks from Evelyn's office. Though most of the way back was filled with polluted air, the last few blocks home smelled like the beginnings of rain and autumn. For some reason, I loved the smell of the earth after the rain. To some people, the falling of leaves is the end of summer and the coming of a dreary winter. But to me, I think it's a small hope of things to come. When the leaves fall onto the ground, they're kind of like nutrition for the soil. After all the leaves fall, it's like everything goes through a deep slumber, waiting for its time to burst out alive again.

Have I been sleeping these past few years? For the first time in a long time, I felt alive again, like I could go anywhere, do anything, and I'd be okay. I didn't quite understand these feelings I was happening, but I felt like I was given a new hope. I wasn't Serena, the writer. Or even Serena, Darien's best friend. I was me again. Serena DREXEL, the girl who gazed off into the distance during class and read tons of novels when everyone thought it was nerdy to do so. And there was my best friend…Darien, who didn't think it was nerdy at all.

I smiled, feeling content for the first time in a long while. It's as though I've been waiting my whole life for me to feel this way, like I was warm down to my toes. I hugged myself a bit tighter and walked into my apartment building. As I was about to unlock my door, the scent of something tasty happily greeted my nose. Could it be? Was Darien preparing something?

"Darien Rehnquist. Get your butt off the couch!" I smiled. Some things never change. And here I was hoping he'd start being romantic now and prepare a nice lunch. But no, my coffee table was littered with little white cartons from our local Chinese takeout place. Hurray.

Darien settled more comfortably into my couch, as though he's been there all morning. "Great! You're just in time. The food came just a few minutes ago."

Despite the unromanticness of Chinese takeout, I was eager for some food. It was a bit past noon and I was starving. I sat down cross-legged on the opposite side of the coffee table and helped open the cartons. "Did you get my favorite?"

"Yep! Sesame chicken right here with extra of those cracker things that you like."

"Aww…that's so sweet!" There were benefits of dating your best friend.

"Don't aww me, you owe me twelve bucks for your order, plus tax and delivery charge."

I made a face. You know the one. "But I'm the girl! You're supposed to pay for me!"

Darien stopped unpacking the carton of rice and stared at me. "Please, don't tell me you're into that stuff. I thought you were a modern woman. You know, insisting on opening your own doors and everything? Besides, you earn more than I do. It is you who should be treating me."

I grumbled and maybe even pouted a little, "Just because I'm a modern woman doesn't mean I don't like being treated occasionally."

"Occasionally? Whose idea was it to go to a fancy dinner last night? Who paid for dinner and the taxi ride?"

"All right, all right. You win. Now- "

"And what's with the idea of having to treat girls special to be considered a gentleman? If women want equal status, they shouldn't expect to be treated like a delicate flower."

"Woah, boy," I stopped in mid-bite of my tasty sesame chicken, "What's gotten your panties in a bunch?"

He moved the couch back so there was room for him to sit on the floor and eat comfortably from the coffee table. "My mother called this morning. She was nagging me again about finding a steady girlfriend and getting married and giving her grandchildren, blah blah. The usual."

I blinked. "So, have you told her?"

He continued to chomp on his food as though it were made of stone. "Told her what?" he said, a little annoyed.

"About…us."

"Oh." He stopped chewing and looked around thoughtfully. Really, my living room wasn't that exciting. This was the expression he gave when he was coming up with a good answer, usually pulled out of his ass.

"Well?"

He swung his neck from side to side with a perturbed look on his face, the one he used when he was reaaally stretching for an answer. "Well… it's just a bit… complicated. I can't just tell my mom, 'Hey! I'm currently seeing the woman that you've known since she was in diapers and we ran around naked together, say congratulations for us!"

I blinked. "What's wrong with that?"

Darien looked at me exasperatedly. "You know what's wrong! Every time I tell her I'm dating someone new, she lectures me about wasting my time with unqualified girls. That sort of lecture I know how to deal with. But what will she say when I tell her about you? She'll probably start making plans for the wedding!"

I sat there in disbelief. "Wh-What? What are you talking about? Your mom isn't like that!"

"You don't know her Serena! She gets crazy about things like this, especially now that I'm perilously close to 30. I-I don't want her to make a big deal about…about…" his voice trailed off and he wouldn't look me in the eye."

I put my chopsticks down and saw red. "About what? About nothing? You think this is nothing? Am I going to be another girl that you dump?"

"What? I never dump anyone!"

I stood up and stared him down. "Oh, excuse me, don't call them or return their calls and passively wait for them to dump you. And that wasn't even the point! Why won't you tell your mom about us?" I suddenly had an epiphany. "Oh…I get it now. You don't have the guts to be in this relationship do you? What are you afraid of, Darien?"

Darien still wouldn't look at me, and a sudden bit of fear clung to me. I sat down next to him and asked softly. "What are you afraid of?" I stroked his hair and turned his head toward me. "It's me, Serena. Your buddy, your pal. How can you be afraid? It's just me."

Darien finally looked up and put his hand over mine. It was then that I realized how close we were. "I'm afraid of losing you, Serena. You're my best friend. I don't know what I'd do without you." He tucked my hair behind my ear in a familiar gesture. "What I said about my mom was partially true. She'd go bonkers and might push us when we we're not ready. Right now, I just feel like I've finally done something right and everything is as good as it's never been. I don't want anything to mess that up right now, not when I've waited such a long time to feel this way. I guess you could say I'm feeling a bit paranoid. This is you; you're not some girl I met at a club. I don't want this to go wrong. You get what I'm saying?"

I nodded and almost felt the push of tears behind my eyes. Damn hormones. "Yea, that's exactly what I feel. I don't want us to mess up either. You mean too much to me Darien." I shook my head. "You're right. I want it to be just us, with no third party meddling in. I'm sorry, I don't know why I overreacted."

He smoothed his hands over my hair and gave a small peck on my forehead like he always did. "That's ok. I'm sorry too. I should know better than try to hide from you."

He smiled at me, and it was that brilliant smile that somehow made my heart jump a few extra beats. When did Darien have that effect on me? He ran his fingers through the length of my hair and tickled the nape of my neck.

"Your hair's so warm and soft," he whispered.

I only nodded, suddenly at lost for words.

He began massaging my neck and all thoughts escaped me. I felt his breath close to mine, until they intermingled. At this point, the only awareness was the scent of him and the feel of his breath getting closer and closer to my lips.

His lips were soft and cushiony as they gently pressed against mine. I leaned forward and lightly licked his lips, silently asking for permission. He opened to me and our tongues tentatively tasted each other, as though caught in their own dance, dancing in tune to their own music.

I don't know who pulled away first, but we looked at each other, breathless.

I eyed him suspiciously, "Not fair! You knew my weak spot. You knew I'd fall over if you massaged me there."

His eyes twinkled as he grinned at me, rather like a Cheshire cat. "Hey, a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do."

I glared at him. But inside, my heart was beating a mile a minute and I couldn't get over that tingly warm feeling that his kiss left me with. It was that sort of warm feeling you'd get snuggling up to your favorite blanket, reading your favorite book. The sort of feeling that warms you to your soul.

Darien smiled gently at me. It must've been the lighting or something, but it was like I could see the world through his eyes.

Whatever romantic experts say about communication and intimacy, this feeling couldn't be explained in words or steps. There's nothing like it in the world, and once you feel it, you know it's right. Now I understood what all those poets and writers have been writing about for centuries. Scientifically speaking, it was this funny feeling that started in the center of my chest, wiggled through my tummy, danced pass my bum, and trickled down to the tips of my toes. Rather like Happiness, Contentment, and a Secret Ingredient mixed together in a little bottle that gave a big blast. Perhaps this was the formula for a perfect life, but something told me that mysterious ingredient contained a wildness about it that tended to throw things out of whack. I wasn't ready to poke at it too much, lest it reared its ugly head and threw me into oblivion. For now, I was happy with the way things were, and maybe looking a bit into the future. Who knows what pleasant surprise I'll find?

\el fin\

P.S. I bet you're wondering who won the bet.

I did of course. Evelyn was ecstatic with my not-ending. Just how much of a twist can you give to a news story before you call it a lie? Of course, Darien insists it's a tie. His story did end up on the front page, though it was on this tiny column to the side. He did gain a bit of a following after that. But I did sell fifty percent more copies than any of my previous books, hitting number one bestseller on several lists. What can I say? I'm a woman; he's a man with pride. We decided to call it even. Besides, I was looking forward to spending a lot of alone time on our cruise. Nothing warms the body up like sunbathing and a little afternoon playtime.

Who said life wasn't perfect?

Well, almost.