"Still hungry for more? Even after last night?"

He didn't let off with his kisses, and I felt his breath on my neck, his mouth moist and soothing upon the top of my chest. It was incredible-- the softness of it all. I felt his fingers fumbling for my nightgown, unlacing the back, and his body was suddenly pressing down on top of me, his hands very literally everywhere.

"Last night? That was just the main course. We forgot about dessert. . ."

"Sweetheart," I started, my words muffled by his mouth, "I have class at nine-thirty."

Tobey was undeterred. "Have Monica take notes for you."

I felt his hand come up under my nightgown, up my stomach-- something he knew to be my absolute weakness! I moaned softly, reaching my hands up and around his back and pulled him closer onto me. I whispered into his ear,

"Maybe I will."

* * *

It was around Thanksgiving and was an unusually dry autumn even for Southern California. The morning that Tobey had convinced me so easily to play hooky from class was a typical November morning: the crisp golden brown hills of the Los Angeles basin were a stark contrast against the bright blue cloudless skies. A soft breeze rustled through the trees that were just then starting to turn their dazzling colors. Perhaps I am describing the morning a tad more romantic than it was in actuality - it was probably just like any other day - but the fact that it was our six-month anniversary made it absolutely perfect in my mind.

Six months? No it couldn't have been just six months. For I felt as though I had known him my entire life-- even before that! He was a part of my being and suddenly I couldn't think of a single happy memory in which he was not in some way involved. And I could not fathom a future without having him as a part of my life.

He had recovered remarkably well from his injuries, much to everyone's delight -especially ours, if you get my drift. In a way I think those first few weeks in which I had to tend to him hand and foot brought us closer together than either of us had been with anyone previously. He was my friend, first and foremost, which is what those first few weeks proved to me. And secondly. . . well. . . he was the only man I had ever loved in my life. We'd told each other things that we’d never dared tell another soul. Things I had never even admitted to Monica. He could finish a sentence for me - know exactly what I was thinking simply by the look in my eye just as I could with him.

He spent more time here at my apartment that we did over at his place. He told me he loved the feel and the smell of my place more - that everywhere it reminded him of me. According to Monica, he really should have just moved in as he was there more than she was. And once Tobey had finally emerged from the bathroom, clean-shaven, his white T-shirt pulled taut over his figure and stood in front of where I sat at the dining table.

I put the newspaper down and stared at him. He grinned like a Cheshire cat, both his hands hidden behind his back.

"And what are you up to?"

He revealed his left hand to be holding a gift-wrapped package.

"Happy Anniversary," he said, leaning over me to kiss me on the lips as he slipped the gift in front of me. I beamed and opened the package promptly - my breath left me completely. I held in my hands a gorgeously bound book of dark blue cloth with gold plated fancy script on the cover that read To Kill a Mockingbird - my favorite book. My hand shook somewhat as I opened the front cover and found it to be a first edition: copyright 1960.

"God. . . Tobey. . . where did you get this?"

"Oh, I have my ways."

"I can't. . ." I looked up at him and smiled, kissing him again. "Thank you," I said quietly, hoping to God that I didn't start bawling.

"I had a hell of a time finding that thing! But it was worth it. Besides, I just love the story that goes with it." He took up a seat next to me and scooted close. "How does it go again?"

"Oh God," I laughed, throwing my head back. "Tobey! No, not again . . ."

"Please?" He said, pouting that edible lower lip of his.

I groaned, pretending to be grudging, but his interest made me absolutely tingle inside. "Well," I said, smiling, leafing through the perfect pages of the book. "This book is probably the only book my father ever read. You know, if it wasn't the newspaper then it wasn't worth reading. So when I was little, he made a point of reading it to me. At least once through every year. I swear, I thought that Scout was my lost sister and Atticus was my surrogate father. . ." I sighed. "Dad only had one copy-- the same copy he'd bought in High School-- the pages had been taped in, the binding long since tattered, coffee and grease stains. So when I got into the ninth grade and found out we were going to read it as a class, I naturally brought that copy to school - much to the laughter of the other students. I couldn't believe that they hadn't read it before! It was such a big part of my life. I remember reading it in class and I'd pour my heart and soul into the pages and . . . the faces of the students smiling as they read along just lit me up inside. Seeing them glow and discovering something they never before knew existed just thrilled me. And I thought, wow, how amazing it must be for the teacher to see that same look on kids faces every year. . ."

"And that's when you knew you wanted to be a teacher."

"The end," I said, still grinning, holding the book close.

Tobey's shining eyes would not leave me. He leaned close to me again. "I love you so much," he whispered.

"I'm one up on ya," I smiled, kissing him. He seemed happy to hear that and I suddenly realized that perhaps he wanted a nightcap in addition to the dessert and the main course.

"Mine is nothing compared to yours," I said, stroking his hair.

"Huh?"

"Your gift. It's over there on the sofa."

He pulled his lips away from me, glanced over at the sofa and then back at me and smiled. "You sly fox. That wasn't there a second ago. How did you get that there without my seeing?"

I winked. "I have my ways."

He walked over to the present, placed it onto his lap and undid the wrapping paper with he eagerness of a kid on Christmas morning.

"Hell, Natty. You didn't have to go and do that. . ."

It was a gorgeous backgammon set that I'd seen while we were away for the weekend in Santa Barbara. For some reason he didn't buy it, but I'd kept a mental note of it and the two-hour drive back up the coast was well worth it. The wood was shined to a tee and the board intricately carved. He shook his head. "I love it, Natty."

"I thought you loved me."

"That too," he smiled, embracing me tightly.

* * *

Monica came trudging in through the door about five minutes later. She threw her knapsack down on the ground, as was her habit. She looked strangely disheveled and barely acknowledged us as she walked through the living room.

"Bad day at school, eh?" I asked as she tossed my notebook onto my lap.

"Oh, you know how Professor Prower is."

"We call him the Prowler," I informed Tobey who at once understood.

"Ahh. Well, Monica, I hope that he hasn't ruined your day too much. We're getting a nice group together to go out to Spago's tonight."

"Oh. . . what's the occasion?"

"What's the occasion?" I blinked in disbelief. "It's our six months, silly, I've been telling you all week."

She took a swig from her water bottle and then nodded. "Must've forgot. We'll see how I feel."

She retreated into her room and closed the door behind her.

I turned to Tobey who was biting his lip in contemplation.

"What do you suppose has gotten into her?"

"Dunno," I answered with a shrug. "Women do reserve the right to be moody for no apparent reason, you know."

* * *

Monica did not join us that evening. I was stunned when she declined. I'd told her, “Leo is going to be there, you know. He's really fond of you, Mon.” But even that didn't inspire her to get up out of her room. I was more than perplexed-- I was worried. But I decided to try my best not to think about it and enjoy the evening.

And what a wonderful evening it was.

I walked in, arm in arm with Tobey, Leo close at his side, followed by their good friend Nick Cassavetes, his girlfriend and Kirsten. I was thoroughly relieved that Kirsten was joining us because she had a marvelous way of putting me at ease. Six months ago I would have felt terribly out of place in such a crowd. I would have kept quiet all evening, acutely aware of all the eyes that stared at us, paranoid that everyone was thinking who the hell is that? Who does she think she is? And while, unfortunately, there was probably great truth to that statement, I had since come to terms with the fact that, well, to put it bluntly: I didn't give a shit one way or the other.

I was in love and that was the only thing I needed. Who cared whether others liked it? I didn't need their approval. This learned confidence allowed me to feel somewhat at ease amongst the constant whispers and pointing fingers of onlookers-- and the perpetual flash of the camera. I had yet to accompany Tobey to a premiere, thank God. I was okay with public dinners, but a media event? I was just an education major for crying out loud!

After dinner, we ventured off onto the not so very far away sunset strip to a favorite club of Leo's. I wasn't exactly a club-goer, but Tobey loved the place, so I was more than willing to try it out. I have to admit the crazy neon and strobe lights, the pounding rhythm and magnetism was quite contagious. Tobey merely looked on in amused silence as I tried desperately to keep up with Leo's drinks.

"I thought you didn't drink!" Leo shouted as I downed my third sex on the beach.

"I don't!" I shouted back, my face flushed.

"Could've fooled me," he laughed.

Tobey shook his head. "I'm fine with my water, thanks." He slid the bottle in front of me. "Maybe you should try this instead."

I laughed and rested my head against his shoulder. "Oh, don't be an old fart." I kissed him quickly on the lips and then demanded a fourth glass.

Kirsten was loving it. "That a gal, Nat! Givin' Leo a run for his money!"

Leo was smiling-- suddenly his grin dropped and his eyes grew wide. He sat back in his chair and folded his arms, shaking his head.

"I don't fucking believe it."

"Believe what?" Tobey asked.

Leo nodded his head towards whatever it was he was looking at. "Cinderella's ugly stepsisters, three o' clock."

Tobey turned around. "Shit. Of all the gin joints in the world, you know?"

I raised my head and to my absolute horror found. . .

"God. Isn't that Courtney and-"

"Satan? Yes, it is."

They were both smiling, looking as gorgeous as they always did. Brittany had donned a nearly nonexistent black dress and stilettos, while Courtney opted for the more modest hip hugging denims and frilly halter-top. Humph. The hair is still way too big. You'd think that being models they'd have left the 1980s by now. . .

Kirsten leaned over and whispered into my ear, "I take it that you guys know those girls."

I nodded solemnly, my stomach suddenly plunging as they approached our table. "Yeah," I whispered back, "unfortunately."

"Well hello there," Brittany said, all smiles and bubbling energy. "What are the odds of us running into each other here? What are the odds!"

"It's great to see you all again," Courtney added, "it's been much too long!"

"It's only been six months," said Tobey dryly. "I usually go three years without seeing you two."

"Which is still too short," Leo muttered under his breath.

Thick headed Brittany continued, "Well doesn't everyone just look absolutely wonderful! I don't believe we know each other," she said to Kirsten.

Tobey cleared his throat. "Right, um, Kirsten? This is Brittany and Courtney."

"Delighted," they both said simultaneously.

Kirsten, the intrepid girl she is, caught the drift of aloofness emanating from the group so she remained duly cool.

"Likewise," she said simply, offering no further conversation.

"Well!" Brittany announced over the roar of the music, "Let us buy everyone a drink!" Without invitation, they scooted their way into our booth, directly across from Tobey and myself.

Brittany finally decided to grace me with her eye contact. She made a specific point of staring me up, then down, then up again - much the same as she did the first day I met her - and then she broke out into that familiar icy grin which sent chills down my spine.

"And Natalie! How good to see you again."

Still the phoney smart ass.

"You're looking well these days," she continued. “School treating you kind these days?"

"Yes."

She turned her focus on Tobey and laughed. "Tobey! What is with the dressy getup? I'm not used to seeing you in anything other than a white T-shirt and jeans!"

"We just came from Spago’s," he answered pointedly. "Celebrating our six month anniversary." He made a specific point of putting his arm around me.

"Ahhh," she said, keeping her stare. "How very romantic."

"And how is your mother these days?" I asked, out of genuine interest.

She stared me down. "She's doing fine, thank you. Well, that is, after that weekend in San Diego, she's as well as can be expected. It took her a while to get over it-- loosing her best friend, you know. She was really shattered for a long time-- oh Tobey, your mother's friendship meant so much to her. But c'est la vie, as they say. Courtney and I did not come over here to settle old scores-- we came here to make the peace. To prove that we're still friends. And I will simply not listen to any more protests, I am buying everyone a drink. Yes, except you Tobey, I know you don't drink. I'm sure the kitchen can whip something up-- a tofu milkshake or something like that."

She was trying to be funny, and failing miserably.

It was quite obvious that the two had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Leo had asked Kirsten to accompany him to the large bar on the other side of the club, eager to get away from them. Nick and his girlfriend followed soon thereafter, leaving only Tobey, me and Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber. The setting was growing more uncomfortable with every passing second. Especially when Courtney -- the most tolerable of the two -- got up to go to the ladies room, leaving the three of us alone.

"And exactly when is the film coming out stateside?" Brittany was being nosy again.

"May third."

"And isn't Leo supposed to have a new film? I read about it in Variety. Liam Neeson is in it as well, right?"

"Right. Sometime next year it's coming out."

"Ohh, two big films for the two of you. No rivalry, I hope."

"Rivalry? Brittany, I don't know if you remember, but Leo was in a little film called Titanic. There's no rivalry because there's no contest. Period."

She turned to me. "I'm sure that you are excited about everything."

"Huh?" I wished to God that I hadn't had those four glasses of sex on the beach. I liked to be on my highest alert with this woman. "Excited? Well, yeah, I am. I'm excited as everyone else, anyway."

"And what about Wendy? I'm sure she's proud of her son."

"Wendy has always been proud of her son," I said, surprised I got out an intelligible sentence!

There was a strange smile on Brittany's face. She didn't even seem phased by my snap. Her sickeningly sweet tone continued as such. "And I hope Wendy is doing well. We worry about her since it's been so long since we've seen her. I mean just Courtney and I. Actually Mom and Wendy are having dinner together tonight."

Tobey leaned forward, intrigued. "Sorry?"

"Yes," she nodded. "You didn't know? Wendy is in town this week, very last minute. The two are . . ."

Tobey's cell phone went off at that moment. He gratefully fumbled for it.

"Hello? T-Tracey? H-Hi. This is so odd; we were just talking about you. No. . . Um, Brittany and Courtney are with us. I understand that my Mom is with you-- what?"

The tone of that last word caught my attention. I turned to see Tobey's face suddenly storming with concern. "How sick? Oh. . . well. . . are you going to take her to the hospital? Right. . . right, okay, I'll do that. Yeah, you've got my number, so call if I take too long."

He flipped his phone off and put it back in his pocket.

"Whasswrong, sweetie?" Dammit. I'd tried so hard not to slur my speech.

He looked into my eyes and brushed my hair. I could feel Brittany's eyes glaring at me. He smiled. "Oh dear. . . you're drunk, aren't you?"

"Never," I said adamantly. And then added sheepishly, "Maybe a li’l tipsy. But thassall, sweetie. I'm perfectly fine."

He nodded. "Look, Mom's sick. Tracy isn't exactly sure what it is right now; she hopes its just food poisoning. She can't keep anything down and it's so bad that they've gotten worried so they're taking her to the hospital." He squeezed my hand. "I wouldn't do this, but the hospital is right down the street, literally. And she's asking for me. . ."

I kissed him on the lips and then said quietly, "Then you have to go to her, Tobey."

"Even under the influence, you're still a smart cookie." He kissed me again. Brittany's stare was burning through my skin, I swear it. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. She'd love to see you, but I'm sure it won't make a difference if you come now or wait until tomorrow morning. . ."

I suddenly remembered Monica sitting at home, alone and thought it wouldn't be smart to just leave her there. She already was a bit angry that I didn't spend as much time with her. I shook me head. "Monica, remember? I should stay home tonight."

He nodded and kissed me one last time. "Have Leo or Kirsten take you home," he whispered as he stood up. He excused himself from the table, grabbing his coat and left. I sat behind, smiling at him, thinking how wonderful it was for him to run off to his mother's side.

Brittany played absently with her drink and kept that back stabbing smile. “You don’t like me very much,” she said pointedly.

Lightheaded and annoyed at the audacity of such a question, I leaned back in my chair and shot back, “Not particularly.”

Brittany’s face was very briefly shocked.

I added quickly, “You haven’t given me any reason to like you.”

She leaned forward. “I am going to be honest with you, Natalia. I was very resentful of you at first . . .”

“You don’t say.”

“. . . and I wanted to see you out of Tobey’s life more than anything in the world. I’m sure he told you that we used to go out. It didn’t work out and. . . I guess I never really got over it. You can’t honestly blame me, can you? He’s absolutely amazing.”

I nodded. “That’sh the truth,” I giggled.

“But. . . I’m glad that the two of you are happy.”

I remained suspicious.

“I mean that,” she reassured. “Life in his world is. . . crazy. If you’ve never been exposed to it, it can be really difficult adjusting. Some people never do. I just hope you’re up for it,” she said, lighting up a cigarette.

“Well I certainly want to thank you for your concern,” I said defensively, “and I guess I should just put you at ease so that you don’t suffer anymore sleepless nights on the matter: I’m perfectly capable of handling whatever comes my way. We love each other, that’s all that matters.”

“Come on Brittany, we should get going.”

Courtney had rejoined the two of us and Brittany kept her gaze on me, smiling strangely. “Oh don’t be a spoil sport, Courtney! Natalia and I are just getting acquainted! What were you drinking?”

“Shex on the beach,” I hiccuped.

“Court, go fetch three of the same!”

The sister obeyed, disappearing off to the bar and was back within moments. She slid me the lovely pink drink-it was even better than the first four.

“Hey. . . where’d Kirshten go. . .”

I felt my eyelids getting heavy. . . was I sleepy? No, I was acutely aware of everything around me. Or was I?

“Kirsten who?” I thought it was Brittany’s voice. . . or was it Monica’s? She had come with us, hadn’t she?

The next twelve hours remain, to this day, a complete blur.