Too many emotions pass through Halley as she leaves the hospital after Grace's birth. She craves closure in many forms. But as she makes her way home from the hospital, she discovers more than planned.
A new ending to Sarah Dessen's Someone Like You.

Rating: T
Pairings: Halley/Macon.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, or Someone Like You



The sky was not as clear as it had been when I had left the hospital ten minutes ago to commence my long trek home. Looking up to the sky, I feared that I would be caught in a downpour before I reached her home and that my already destroyed prom dress would become nothing but a wet rag.

But what could I do now? I was already well on her way home, plus, I knew I needed this time alone, more than I needed to keep I ripped-up-the-leg dress dry.

I continued to walk, putting one foot in front of the other, my shoes bumping against her thigh from my hands. Vague and distant thoughts clouded I mind all at once, but a simple conversation reigned over them all.

Do you still love him? Elizabeth Gunderson had asked earlier that night in the bathroom. She had asked the question almost like it was a statement, already knowing the answer.

No, I had replied, surprising her slightly. But I knew she did not believe me; I knew she could see right through my two letter lie.

I wondered what would have happened if I had told her the truth; if I had not been typical Halley, always taking the least painful way out – what would have gone differently? Each and every decision someone makes could affect the rest of their lives drastically, every single one. So what would have been different if I had told Elizabeth, Macon's girlfriend, that I did still love him? Would I even be walking alone along the sidewalk, just as the rain began to drizzle from the angry clouds above?

I do not change my destination though, just continued towards home.

The rain began to come down faster, drumming against the road and the roofs of the houses nearby. My hair was already drenched and dripping against my shoulders. My makeup that Scarlett had done so intricately just for prom was being washed away, swirling and sputtering down the drain, leaving long black streaks against my cheeks. I forced myself to think of something other than Macon, it only caused me pain. Maybe I hadn't taken the easy way out this time, because being separated from Macon this way was unlike anything I had ever felt. And I knew he was bad for me, like an intense craving for chocolate while on a diet, Macon was slowly driving me crazy.

Just as the rain began to take a different course, blowing sideways due to the wind, headlights shone through the must and a car's horn sounded.

I would have recognized Macon's truck anywhere. Even in a parking lot in Italy I would have known it was his. His truck pulled over to the side of the road, tires spraying water droplets everywhere. I stopped altogether and watched. I was in complete denial; he couldn't be stopping for me?

Just as I was about to continue on my path in the rain again, the passenger's window opened, and there he was, Macon, in all his glory, yelling something inaudible out the window.

I halted again, curious now. "What?" I called to him through the heavy pounding of the rain.

"I said…" he replied, his last few words getting cut off.

"I can't hear!" I told him, motioning to my ears, then shrugging, hoping he understood my actions if he could not hear my words.

Macon rolled his eyes, and then to my surprise, he leaned out the window, where half his body was instantly drenched. His eyes locked with mine, and even though I tried, I could not look away.

"I said do you want a ride?" he said, softer this time. I had a sudden flashback to the day of Michael's funeral, driving home in Scarlett's miniature Aspire. Macon had been trudging through the pouring rain, and Scarlett had asked me to see if he wanted a ride. Of course I didn't want to though; I didn't know Macon at the time, and I did not want to take the chance. After Scarlett calling me a wuss, I called out to him in the rain, terrified of the whole situation. He had declined the invitation, not taking a chance either.

I realized at that moment how similar the situations were. They were reversed now, but Macon was taking the chance that I had not. He was making that jump, while I had been afraid of stumbling. And now, seeing him halfway out his passenger's window, half drenched, but making a full commitment, I knew it was finally time to make the right decision, whether the turnout would be painful or painless. I decided to make the jump too, just as he had learned to do. It took only a few steps to reach the window he was perched out of. I took a deep breath, ready to repay Scarlett for not taking a chance that afternoon of the funeral.

I reached down and pulled open the door to his truck, climbing in beside him. He did not seem to care that the whole inside of his car would be soaked, he just held my gaze with those Macon eyes…

Macon kissed me then for the first time in months; for the first time since the accident. But my thoughts did not bring me back to that night, or any other nights before. My mind only held the thoughts of this moment now, and the fact that it did not matter now what I had told Elizabeth, or if she had told Macon at all. Because I was showing him the truth, and he could not deny the love that radiated off me as we kissed.

When we pulled apart, he was smiling. I smiled too, and shrugged shyly. "Sure," I finally replied, closing the passenger's door. Macon just let out a chuckle and pulled my wet body close to his, gently rocking me to the music in his head. "Halley," he murmured, several times over to himself, as if he were making sure it was really me.

I drifted off to a state of half-awake half-asleep against Macon's chest. All I remember thinking about was Grace. Grace Halley Thomas, sleeping in her bassinette, loved by so many. I pictured myself many months later, sitting by my window, peering across the street, like I had done so many times before and Scarlett in hers, this time with a new addition. She would put her hand to the window, and I would spread my fingers out slowly against my windowpane, letting her know that I would always be there, for the two of them.

I hoped that Grace would find someone like Macon someday, that would teach her to take chances. Because the most important things are always found after taking a chance, just as Scarlett had done that very first day.