It's finally here, people, it's finally here.

The final installment of the Forbidden Love trilogy!

It will be longer, word-wise, but also shorter, chapter-wise.

Did that make sense? Let's pretend it did.

Like usual, all updating goals, and story news will be in the bottom A/N, and thoroughly explained.

Sorry if this is horrible - blame my computer for being such a bitch lately.

February 21st 2036

Cosette Marie Davenport, was many things, but patient was not one of them.

She impatiently paced, waiting for Elizabeth to finally get ready so they could leave. "Ugh, what are you doing, digging your clothes out of Narnia in there?" she snapped, taking another worried glance at her watch.

She and her best friend had at least two hours left to blow the secret wad of money her mother had snuck to her that morning for the perfect Quinceaneara dress before her father arrived home for work, and at least ten minutes of that two hours would be spent trying to find the best hiding spot for the dress that her father wouldn't come across in the three weeks before the actual ceremony.

Not to mention the twenty minute bus ride it would take to actually get to the dress shop downtown.

"I swear to God I will come in there and dress you myself if you don't hurry the fug up!" Cosette screamed to the closed closet door.

"Oh, don't get your panties in a twist," Elizabeth's muffled voice rang from somewhere inside, following by a huge thud and a loud "Shit!"

When she appeared, she was in a striped sweater with long sleeve and dark skinny jeans, looking at her best friend mockingly. "There, good enough for you?"

"I wasn't the one who said you needed to spend half the day getting dressed!" Cosette reminded her as the blond shoved into a pair of brown leather booties.

The two girls soon exited Elizabeth's house, hurrrying down the street the nearby bus stop.

"I still don't see the point in all this," Elizabeth whined as they waited. "You're not even Mexican."

"Hispanic," Cosette pointedly corrected, crossing her arms. They may have been in California, but she could have been wiser and opted to bring a jacket along, but in her mad rush to get ready that morning, the thought of staying warm had completely slipped her mind. "I come from Hispanic heritage, and it was my mother's idea to celebrate it."

"Aren't your parents all, you know, Mr. Krabbs, when it comes to spending money on parties and all that jazz?" Elizabeth pointed out as they bus choked to a stop in front of them. They quickly boarded.

Cosette gave a snort as she reached, pathetically on her tip toes, to grab the handle bar as Elizabeth snickered on her lifted feet slightly off the ground. Sadly, she had inherited her luck with heights from her father and currently held the status as shortest person in the entire freshman class. Yay.

"Really a Spongebob reference? Could you get any more childish?"

As if to prove a point, Elizabeth declared "Doody head!" and stuck her tongue out, going cross-eyed.

At her friend's childish ways, Cosette rolled her eyes.

"I think you're forgetting those five hours you, me, and Mom spent with Dad trying to convince that a Quinceanera was a right of passage for a girl with Hispanic heritage, remember?"

Elizabeth blankly stared at passing buildings as the bus puttered along, taking a moment to process this through her head before turning to Cosette again, snapping her fingers and grinning madly. "Oh, those five hours. Got'cha."

Cosette just stared at her best friend's cheeky face before exclaiming, "Oh my God, it's a marvel you can tie your shoes."

Elizabeth swatted at her arm, letting go of the bar just as the bus screeched to an abrupt halt. Elizabeth let out a surprised shriek, falling to her knees at the force of the stop.

Cosette cackled as she stepped over her and skipped her merry way off the bus and began down the street.

"Hurtful!" She could hear Elizabeth call after her when she finally dusted herself off and scurried off the bus. (What a weird bus it was, all the other passangers staring at them like they've never seen a pair of teenage best friends before.)

Not done! Stall please?

Cosette bit at her lip, although her brother's reply had been nearly immediate.

You so owe me.

She sighed in relief, stepping out of her third dress in the fifth store that Saturday afternoon.

Even after an hour and a half of dress after dress, the duo had still managed to come up empty handed, clueless on what a dress for such occasion would even looked like.

Elizabeth was a California-born freak, and lacked any knowledge of foreign cultures that she couldn't learn from a series of episodes of different TV shows, and Cosette hadn't even known of her Hispanic ancestors until three months prior to her nearing Quinceanera.

Suffice to say, they were clueless of the customs.

But Cosette highly doubted that any dress wouldn't be suitable for the event - a Quinceanera was about a girl maturing into a woman, after all. So the answer seemed blatantly obvious: find a dress that would make her short, skinny body and (sadly flat) chest look sexy and mature.

After thanking the exasperated-looking employee that had been helping them hunt down the perfect dress, Elizabeth and Cosette gave in to the fact that they hadn't found their miracle store and exited the small shop by a an antique shop, and hurried across the street just as the walking sign flashed.

"If only you weren't so picky," Elizabeth muttered as they continued their way down the strips of shops. "If you haven't noticed, Setty, you're kinda running out of options. And not to mention time!"

Cosette pursed her lips and shoved her hands into her pocket, giving her friend a glare. She knew they were coming down on the wire, but Johnathan had promised to stall, and knowing her brother, he wouldn't disappoint - her, anyway. Their father, however, she couldn't speak for.

The two veered into one of the last dress shops on the street, a small, old-looking place called Sally's Closet with a very antique edge to it.

"Whoa, I've only ever seen these babies in old flicks," Elizabeth murmured, running her hands over the silk material of a nearby dress.

Cosette could only manage a nod. All the gowns were simply gorgeous, but the best of them all caught her eye in the far corner.

The dress didn't look like much. It was a simply strapless dress made from sleek magenta color color. With gentle hands, she took it from the rack and walked over to the gallery of mirrors near a dressing room.

It fell to just over her purple, doodled Converse, the slight puff of the skirt's hem skimming against the floor. The slash wrapped around the waist, separating the skirt and corset with a band of modest, glimmering crystals.

"Dude, I think you found the one," Elizabeth breathed, coming up behind her.

Cosette grinned at her in the mirror, nodding with the same excitement of a furiously shaken bobble head. "I think I should try it on!"

With that she dashed into the nearest dressing room, the door closet and clicking shut with a bang that resonated as much perkiness as the petite brunette did.

After wiggling out of her skinny jeans and star-printed sweater, Cosette stepped into the dress, pulling at the bunching parts and smoothing out the annoying creases that wrinkled together under the glimmering slash.

"Well? I won't wait forever!"

Cosette let out a deep breath and stepped out, cautiously poking her head out the door.

"Yeah, I know what you're face looks like, but I wanna see the dress!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

Cosette, rolling her eyes, pushed the door away and stepped out, showing off the dress as it hugged her every (nearly nonexistent) curves and brushed floor when she took a couple dainty steps forward.

Elizabeth let out an uncharacteristic squeal and clapped her hands. "Boom! I told you this store would be the one!"

The brunette squinted at her in accusation. "No you didn't."

The blonde flapped a manicured hand indignantly. "Whatever, just so change so we can snag your glass slippers and make it home before midnight!"

"Only you would make two Disney references in the same sentence!" Cosette called as she locked the dressing room door behind her.

"Get on my level, son! Get on my level!"

Glass slippers turned out to mean a pair of silver shoes with a small heel and a pair of glittery flats.

"I still don't get the whole transformation thing," Elizabeth whined as they dragged themselves on the bus once again.

Cosette, juggling two shoe bags and a dress in her arms, huffed and said for what felt like the umpteenth time, "For the love of Christ, Liz, I wear the flats for half a night, then when it's time, I express maturing into a woman by stepping into my first heels and growing into womanhood!"

"Yeah, but does you're height get that?"

Cosette rolled her eyes behind the mountain of bags and boxes in her arms and let out a screech as the bus coughed to a stop, lurching Cosette backward and making her tower of purchased items fall around her like a kid's destroyed block tower.

"How's it feel, Oh Tiny One?" Elizabeth cackled as she danced her petite body over her friend's sprawled limbs and items, prancing off the bus and down the street.

Cosette sat up and grumbled, combing her thin fingers through her hair as she tried to quickly gather her things back into her arms.

Just as she was reaching for the navy blue box that held her sparkly new flats, a pair of slim, muscled hands beat her to the task and thrust them out toward her.

"Here," a musical voice smoothly exclaimed to her.

Cosette looked up into a pair of dark brown eyes and smiled at the boy gratefully. "Thanks," she murmured, stacking her shoes then slinging the dress bag over the top.

"Quite a tower you have there," he observed as they both stood.

Cosette gave him a half smile and began maneuvering through a sea of standing bodies and knobby knees.

Once she was standing on the sidewalk and watching the bus putter away, it's tail end spitting out dark clouds of smoke, she realized she wasn't standing it and watching it disappear alone.

"Oh, I didn't realize you came off here," Cosette said in surprise as she caught sight of the same boy beginning to walk away.

He turned, and Cosette could finally make out the headphone resting comfortably on his neck, and his curves, nicely exposed in his V-neck and hoodie. She had to admit, he wasn't bad looking.

The boy nodded, flashing her a charming smile. "Yeah, my dad and I live in the apartment complex just three streets over." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.

Cosette shifted her items, shaking her head to will the wind to blow her hair from her face.

"Whoa, those things are huge," Cosette pointed out, recalling the few times her parents drove by the tall apartment buildings with glass faces. They were dark and smooth, reflecting the clouds on Mission Creek's warm and sunny days, or looking like it was sobbing with the rain during horrible storms. She always found them to be gorgeous.

Suddenly she felt self-conscious of her typical three-story cul-de-sac house with it's white shutters and creamy paint job as she told him about the direction she was headed and jerked her head in said directions.

"Well, charmed to meet you," the boy said once the words were done falling awkwardly from her mouth and they were left to stand awkwardly on the sidewalk.

"You as well!" Cosette called, lowering her arms in the slightest to watch his turn around and walk in the opposite direction.

By the time Cosette finally arrived home and jimmied her key into the lock, her father had exploded and had his anger oozing off the walls.

She quickly hurried her items up the stairs, pushing them under her bed in the square storage space, then silently slipped back down the stairs.

The back of Jonathan's head faced her, as well did her dad's red, furious face as his eyebrows scrunched together, and he spewed spit, pacing back and forth in front of the couch his son was seated on.

Cosette widened her eyes, catching sight of the broken window, clicking the pieces together. When she had meant stall, she hadn't meant for her brother to break their father's house laws, which included prohibiting destruction, mess, and any shape or form of sports in the house at all times.

"Just - what would drive you to do such a thing, Johnathon Christopher Davenport?" Their dad fumed. Cosette could practically make out the smoke pouring from his ears even from her spot on the stairs.

She caught her twin's shoulders shrugging. "I dunno, an extra shot of Mountain Dew in my coffee this morning?" he joked feebly, squirming under his dad's firm gaze.

(The whole Mountain Dew and coffee thing? Yeah, Johnathan found it necessary to mix his caffeinated drinks for that extra sunshine boost in the morning.)

Just as Cosette watched her father's mouth widened, prepared to let his screams and spit fly, their mother walked in.

The first thing she saw was her daughter, hugging her knees on the stairs while watching the Father & Son Fight show, then her eyes caught the glass shards lying on the ground. The sight of such a mess, and the thought of another broken window, nearly made her drop her groceries.

Luckily, she regained enough willpower to set her bags on the table in the foyer, then shoot her daughter a wild-eyed look of panic.

Cosette silently stood, jabbing her thumb up the stairs before quickly scurrying up to her room, hearing her mother's light footsteps treading after her own.

Once the two women were both safely locked up in the thick walls of Cosette's room, the young brunette wiggled underneath her bed to pull out all the findings Elizabeth and her had scavenged for that afternoon.

"Why is another window broken? I thought three was our limit for this year?" Her mother interrogated.

Cosette turned to face her with a sheepish smile already slipping into place as she shrugged her shoulders. "Sorry, but I need a distraction, and you know how rebellious John has to be with his stunts."

She scooted out of the way, showing off her dress and shoes to her mother.

"Oh, Setty," the woman whispered, her hands going up to her mouth in complete awe. "I love it."

She gently ran her hand down the silkiness of the dress skirt while her eyes hungrily skimmed the sparkling shoes. She smiled, then lifting the dress to drape it over her daughter's body as they moved to stand in Cosette's full-length mirror.

"You know," her mother mused, smoothing down her daughter's hair, "purple is the color of royalty."

Cosette smiled, taking in there appearance.

Once upon a time, their parents used to to tell them stories about their high school years, ones that were the opposite of the boring parent stories you hear people talk about on sitcoms and movies.

But the stories Cosette liked most was the stories that her father told of her mother, and spoke fondly on how much they looked alike.

And if Cosette stood completely still, and stilled her features, she could make out the same gentle slope of the same nose, the same light and dark rings of brown around their pupils, the dark hair that fell in uncontrollably tresses.

She liked the stories even more now, because her little seven-year-old self had pictured Christine Grant as the petite brunette with wide, glassy eyes and loud smile that she was now. And that's the closest a mother and daughter could get.

"Setty," her mother whispered now, with a far away look in her eyes, "No one will be able to take their eyes off of you."

Eric Hayes loved the idea of flying.

It was an easy thing to imagine, staring out at the big city with it's blinking lights and heavy noise of a moving world from his apartment wall of glass. Having grown up with this view all his life, the idea never left him, but was only released when he drew enough energy to create his bird eye view on a canvas, in a way that may finally be able to make people understand how better the view was from up above, where everything seemed so tiny and unimportant.

But, instead of drawing his blinking lights and spinning world, he was sketching big brown eyes and hair that the wind ran through, dancing the tango in midair.

The reason why was beyond him, but if she was pretty enough to draw, there was a reason there. Eric just had to find it.

"Hey, bud, you home?"

Eric looked up from his worn sketch pad sitting precariously on his knees, seeing his father enter the room. As always, he looked stuck in his mid-twenties, as if the spotlights from the stages he once performed on were permanently highlighting his every feature, eager to draw in a crowd.

"Some mail came from you." Eric squinted at the brown-eyed sketch in thought. "The Davenports, I believe?"

His father's face flashed with recognition like it usually did when that name was involved. Although Eric had never personally met this pair, Chase and Christine Davenport's presence was like a stamp on the family way. Eric supposed there was more to just them wanting to keep contact after their high school years, but his dad had never been the type to spill his thoughts, unlike his son, who would draw his mind a million times over if he could.

"Oh, anything specific?"

Eric shrugged his shoulder. "Looked like a party invitation. A birthday coming up?"

The pondering thought was frozen on his father's face when he went to the dining table and picked up the creamy white envelope with swirling gold script. "Oh, would you look at that," he mused when he came back into the room.

Eric perked up, setting his colored pencils down.

"How would you feel about attending a party next weekend?" His father shook the envelope that dangled from his finger tips with a smile. "Their daughter has invited us to her Quinceanera and it simply says the party wouldn't be complete without us."

That hardly sounded like the general friendly note left on an invite. "Their daughter a good friend of yours?"

The older man smiled, shaking his head. "Nah, but I have a feeling her parents are quite the story tellers."

He tossed the envelope to his son, who ripped it open and turned the card over in his fingers, taking in the picture of the girl in his sketch with the eyes the color of coffee beans, and the hair that tangoed with the wind.

Underneath, in curly gold script, it announced Cosette Davenport would be having her Quinceneara at noon, on Saturday the twenty-eighth, in the ballroom of the Sundance Hotel.

Eric couldn't wait to attend.

And there ends the first chapter of BA!

I know, the cover doesn't give my current pen name, but you know it's me, so I didn't both changing it.

The updates will be slow, but I hope to make them weekly.

So, yeah. Review please?