Fanfiction inspired by Stephenie Meyers Twilight

Warning: This story is for a Mature Audience ONLY. There are graphic references to rape and physical/mental abuse. While we dont believe in censorship, we would advise caution when reading. For 18 years of age, and up.

Just Wait
By InstantKarmaGirl

Summary: AH AU OOC In a world saturated by vices, Bella is forced to move in with her father to avoid the repercussions of her past deeds. But after she meets the socially withdrawn adopted son of the town's doctor, will she allow herself to open up and heal?

Chapter 1: New Town, New Life Bella The drive from Sea-Tac airport to the little town of Forks was nearly unbearable. I didn't speak more than two words, which consisted of 'hi' and 'fine' to my biological father Charlie. It annoyed me to no end that I was being transported in his stupid fucking police cruiser to his stupid little town. As usual, Charlie had no clue as to what to say to me, so after he asked how I was, he was silent too. Not that I minded that shit. It was good to not constantly have to think of ways to avoid stupid questions. So instead of speaking, I thought about the phone call that brought me to this end of the country where everything was green and wet and so fucking close that I felt claustrophobic. I had been sitting at the incredibly expensive and new kitchen table in my mother Renee's house, listening as she dialed Charlie's number. "She stole a fucking car, Charlie. It's fairly obvious that I can't handle her anymore, isn't it?" Renee's typically flighty voice shrilled at her ex, my father. "Look, you're a goddamn cop and it's your turn. She's only got a year and a half left until she can"

I sighed, trying to imagine Charlie's side of the conversation, wondering if he was really going to let himself be bulldozed by Renee yet again. I wondered how he could even be a police officer lacking enough testicular fortitude to stand up to one miserable woman. "Her choices are slim. Either she goes to jail, goes to live in some kind of group home for troubled kids or she lives with you. You can straighten her out, Charlie, I know you can." Another pause, her eyes flicking to me. "Don't you dare. I've had her since she was two years old so don't go pulling that bullshit about me just not wanting her anymore." The car stopped and I looked out of the rain speckled window up at the house that Charlie had lived in since before I could remember. I stared at the second floor, at the window on the right and I already knew what my bedroom would look like. I had spent summer after summer in that house. It was one of the few times Renee actually smiled around me; when she knew she'd have three whole months without me. I was sure she was happy now, knowing that she was officially free of me and my fucked up life. Or rather, me fucking up her life. "Here we go, Bells," Charlie said, a false happiness apparent in his voice. I rolled my eyes at him, wondering why he allowed himself to be manipulated into taking me. I knew he didn't want me. Hell, even the summers I spent with him, he hadn't wanted me then. He would work and I would spend the days watching TV or roaming the far too safe streets of Forks and in the evenings we'd eat pizza without talking about much of anything. The weekends were the same. I had to accompany him while he fished with his friends. When I grew older, he let me stay home, where I shamelessly went through his things, snickering at the bad porn stashed in his closet. I got out of the car and waited for Charlie to pop the trunk and as soon as he did, I loaded myself down with my things, leaving only one small bag for him. The look on his face told me he thought he should be carrying my things, but I didn't need him, so I was perfectly happy lugging them myself. My bags contained my things and I didn't like other people touching my things, what few things I actually owned. I also didn't like people in my room, so I was thankful when Charlie acknowledged this and stopped in the doorway as I pushed the old door open and looked upon my new/old room for the first time in years. I dropped the bags on the floor as I looked around, nauseated at the sight. It was a kid's room, complete with hand print turkeys and stupid crayon drawings of the sun and trees. I hadn't been to Charlie's since I started high school, but how had I let this room look like this during the summers of junior high? Charlie cleared his throat behind me and I turned to see him set the one bag down on the floor, running his free hand through his hair. "I made an appointment with Dr. Cullen for you. It's tomorrow at 10." I rolled my eyes. "I'm in perfect health, Charlie." I was sure he wanted me to call him dad or some shit but he said nothing. "You're enrolled in school, but you can't start without a complete physical and you know just as well as I do that you have to have an appointment for your diabetes at least twice a year and I figured you were due." Again, I rolled my eyes. Renee never took me to the doctor, for obvious reasons and I could've given a shit less about a physical for school, but I supposed that it was better than a group home or jail. "Fine." "I leave at a quarter to seven every morning but I'll be back at nine thirty to pick you up." After having barricaded the door and spent a few hours taking down all the stupid 'little girl Bella'

drawings and taped up pictures of rainbows and unicorns, I tried to sleep. I slept like shit though. The rain drummed down on the roof and the wind gusted against the house, causing the window pane to creak and groan all night. But it was just fine. I didn't usually sleep much anyway. So Dr. Cullen worked at the hospital. This town was so small that no doctor had a separate office, they all just worked out of the hospital. I hated hospitals. But I had to go, so I found myself alone in a little examination room when in walked the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. He was wearing a white coat and his blonde hair was perfectly styled making him look like some 1940's movie star. Dear god, if this man was Dr. Cullen, he could examine me any day. "Miss Swan?" I cringed at his words, but pasted on my best smile. "Bella," I corrected him. He smiled at me and my heart felt like I had just finished a marathon. "Bella," he said, my name dripping from his mouth. He motioned behind him and a mousey little nurse came through the door. "This is Tracy." Dammit. Stupid hospital rules about male doctors examining females alone. What I couldn't do with sexy Dr. Cullen and his light pen. The exam was going perfectly fine until he started running his hands over various bones. While I wanted to pretend he was giving me a much more intimate examination, I couldn't. My brain froze, hoping that his good looks made him an incompetent physician. "Hmm." I swallowed hard, looking at the ceiling, ignoring his exploring fingers on my collar bone. "What?" "Have you broken your clavicle before?" Shit. Taking in a deep breath, I nodded. "Yeah." "Did no one set it?" He pulled the top of the gown up slightly, covering my collar bone again and then gently helped me into a sitting position, his hands moving to explore my back. "Um, no." I could feel my skin flush as I tried to figure out how to get around the truth on this one. "It was stupid and I didn't go to the hospital." I saw his perfect eyebrow arch in question. "Skateboarding." It was a lie. I'd never been on a skateboard in all my life. "Hmm," he said again, but then removed his hands from me and sat down on his little stool, scribbling notes into a chart. "So how is your diabetes, Bella?" I shrugged. "Fine." "Are you eating right, counting your carbs?" I let out an exasperated sigh. "Yes." "Exercising?" "Yes." "Monitoring your blood sugar levels?" God dammit, of course I was. "Yes. Four times a day at least." "What about insulin?" I shrugged again. "What about insulin?" I repeated, putting the emphasis on the word about.

"Are you still taking it?" I rolled my eyes. Didn't these guys ever get tired of asking the same damn thing over and over? "Whenever I need it." "So daily?" "Yes," I sighed, highly annoyed. He smiled at me and all of my annoyance fled my body. Stupid good looking doctor. "Well, all we need to do is take a few X-Rays and we'll be all finished here." "X-Rays?" X-Rays had never been a part of the physical experience before. Smiling again, Dr. Cullen nodded. "There are just a few things I'm curious about." I was sitting outside of Dr. Cullen's office, waiting for my father to finish up the discussion. We'd been at the hospital for nearly 3 hours and I was sick of it. The door to the office was slightly ajar, so I could hear their voices as they discussed random things. Dr. Cullen had already filled out the evaluation form that would allow me to go to school and they had a ten minute conversation about some sporting event, so I was quite bored with eavesdropping, until I heard Dr. Cullen ask, "How well do you know your ex-wife, Charlie?" It took my father a moment to answer. "Well, we were together for a little less than two years." He paused. "Why do you ask?" "How much interaction have you had with her over the years?" "Not much. Bella has come out here several times, but always by plane and never with her mother. Why, Carlisle?" Dr. Cullen paused, I supposed for dramatic effect. I held my breath, already sensing where this was going. "Bella has an incredible amount of contusions that have healed on her head but also more healed broken bones than average teenagers usually have." "Well, Renee has always said that Bella's a klutz." "Charlie," Dr. Cullen said with a sigh, "These aren't the types of injuries one gets from falling down. Is it possible that Bella's mother" Shit. Shit. Shit. I stopped listening at that point. He was going to say it and Charlie would have to think about it. And then Charlie would know and we'd probably have to have some kind of conversation about it. My mind drifted until Charlie finally exited the office. "Bella," he said, much softer and careful than ever before. Fuck it, he knew. "You ready?" "Yeah. Everything okay?" I couldn't help but ask. Charlie nodded at me and gave me a tight lipped smile, holding up a piece of paper. "You're free and clear to go to school tomorrow."

Much to my surprise and eternal gratefulness, Charlie didn't say a word about the information he received from the incredible Dr. Cullen. He simply dropped me off at home, told me to make sure to eat and then went back to work. I hoped that Charlie would continue this laissez faire style of parenting. My day went quick as I continued to shift my room into something more suitable. Charlie wasn't much of a housekeeper, so after I finished with my room, I started cleaning the small bathroom upstairs. Cleaning was easy and it kept my mind off of things I usually tried to avoid thinking about. Soon, the upstairs was so sparkling clean that I almost didn't recognize it. I didn't clean Charlie's room, but I went downstairs to clean the living room, dining room and kitchen. The hum of the vacuum lulled my mind into a numb state, leaving me remembering exactly how my collar bone had been broken. Of course Renee didn't take me to the hospital. There would have been questions and poorly concealed dirty looks as the medical professionals made their silent judgments and decided if calling Child Protective Services would be necessary. Looking at Renee and her tiny little five foot five frame, one wouldn't think that she would be able to inflict such damage, but I knew from experience that Renee was a force to be reckoned with. It wasn't that she was so physically strong; it was that she had so much fiery passion and aggression within her. I shook my head as I flipped the vacuum off. I hadn't had any weed since I left Phoenix and I desperately wanted some. It was going to be one of my top priorities at school tomorrow. In this kind of climate, there was bound to be some killer bud growing somewhere and all I needed to do was find the person at Forks High that could hook me up. I didn't have much money saved up, but I could easily get a job and in the past, it was fairly easy to hook up with my hook up. Not that I was a pot whore or anything. It was just easy to find mutual pleasures and typically when you're fucking someone, they don't charge you for the shit you smoke when you're with them and it's easy to get them to break you off some for when you're not. It was nearing five o'clock when I finally starting hunting around in Charlie's cabinets and refrigerator in order to see what I could make for dinner. I wasn't trying to be domestic, but cooking and cleaning were just some of my responsibilities at Renee's so it wasn't as if I was stepping outside the realm of traditional Bella roles. But Charlie had next to no food in his house. His fridge was filled with random condiments and a shit load of beer. If only beer was my preferred method of getting fucked up. And it looked as though he had enough to not even miss a few. Dammit. Well, perhaps I'd be able to stumble across some hidden bottles of the good stuff; the harder stuff where only a few shots would leave me warm and peaceful. I sighed, but dinner was the most important thing at the moment. Finally I found some frozen hamburger and a box of that shitty Helper stuff, so I went to work. It was incredibly unappealing and I would have to talk to Charlie about getting actual food into the house. I was taking my blood sugar reading as Charlie walked in the door. I watched him as I sat at the dining room table. He kicked off his boots, some of the mud splattering the newly cleaned tile. As he unhooked his gun belt and hung it up, he seemed to look around the house, eyeing the clean state of his house, he seemed to remember that I now lived with him. "Bella?" he called. "Right here, Charlie." He looked up and gave me a small smile. "You didn't have to go cleaning anything like this." "I'm sorry." My reaction was immediate and I hated myself for apologizing. I would clean if I wanted to clean.

"What's that smell?" "Dinner. But it's probably pretty shitty. You need more food." Charlie cocked his head to the side. "Watch your language." I bit my tongue and looked back down at the monitor, picking up my pen to record my results. "Everything okay there?" "111. Perfectly normal, Charlie." The rest of dinner was silent, except for when he said that dinner was good, to which I grunted in reply. He handed me seventy-five bucks to go shopping for the week before I went upstairs. It would definitely make scoring easier and seeing how well he stocked his pantry, I knew Charlie would have no clue how much money was actually spent on food. As I went up to my room, Charlie settled down into his recliner, popping the top of one of his beers, another unopened can sitting on the table next to him. Just as I had done the night before, I locked my bedroom door and barricaded it with the wooden computer chair, wedging it up under the door knob. I wasn't exactly nervous about my first day of school. To be honest, I really didn't give a shit if I fit in or made friends or any of that nonsense. But I disliked being driven to school in a police cruiser. That was a bit on the embarrassing side. My license had been taken away and I had no vehicle of my own, so another priority for my school day was to latch on to someone who would give me rides to and from school. I didn't care who it was, just someone with a car. Charlie made what I figured were typical 'Dad' comments before I got out of the car. I was happy to be out of such a confining space with him. He seemed like an okay guy, but being strapped in to a moving vehicle mere inches from the man put me on edge. My first stop was the administrative building where I picked up a stupid map of the school and my class schedule. I took a moment before heading back out to peruse it. At least Charlie made sure that they gave me some of the classes I wanted. I got into Photography, although it was a basic level class and I was already beyond that. U.S. History, blah, Calculus, whatever, Physical Education, are you fucking joking? British Literature. Okay, I could handle that, even though I doubted the reading list covered anything new to me. Spanish. Podra excavar quiz mis cerebros con una cuchara. Biology. I was in A.P. Biology back in Phoenix, so at least I could breeze through this class, and most of my others, with only minimal effort. Quite easily, I located all my classes on the map and then stepped back out into the drizzle. Students passed me left and right, casting me curious looks, their eyes moving from my feet to the top of my head. Apparently I was endlessly fascinating to these culture deprived kids of Forks. As long as none of them talked to me, I'd be okay. "You must be Isabella!" I cringed as I turned to the guy with the pimples and dark hair. "I'm Eric." Good for you. Now what do you want? "It's Bella, actually," I corrected, deciding that being nice, or at least not so shitty to everyone would help with my two priorities of scoring a little weed and finding rides to and from school. "So, do you need help finding your classes? I could help." I gave him a tight lipped smile and I did my best to calm myself. After all, it was probably fairly irrational to be upset with someone offering me help. "I think I can manage."

"Well, I can fill you in about Forks High if you want." Seriously? What did I need filled in about? It was high school, right? There were cheerleaders and jocks, nerds and geeks, thugs and punks, loners and delinquents. I could pick them all out by myself and certainly didn't need a pimply puppy following me around. I sighed. "My first class is English." Eric peered at my paper in a totally intrusive way, scanning all of my classes, teachers and room numbers. "Right this way," he said as he started to lead me down the same path I had already been on. "Yorkie! Finally get a girlfriend?" Again I cringed. Two minutes standing with this fool and already I was his fucking girlfriend? Scowling, I turned to look at the other boy who had just came running up. Obviously a jock, but not a first string jock. By the his expensive clothing, I deduced that he probably only made it on to the varsity teams because his daddy was some local Big Name Guy. "Oh," he said, as he took me in, his eyes scanning every part of my body, leaving me feeling like I'd just been visually violated. "Hi. I'm Mike. You're Isabella, aren't you?" Before I could correct him or even sigh in annoyance at the use of my proper name, Eric smiled at Mike and said, "It's actually Bella and I'm taking her to her first class." Wow. I felt like a piece of meat being dangled between two miniature dogs. Mike rolled his eyes and took the paper from my hands. My teeth clenched. I hated when people touched things that were mine. "I have English with you. Yorkie has Econ, it's in the other direction. Come on, I'll show you." His eyes scanned the list again. "Oh, we have Biology and P.E. together too. Too bad about Biology, the only open seat is next to" "Mike, Bella and I were involved in a very personal conversation and you've very rudely interrupted." The sleaze smiled at me. With a frown on my face, I grabbed my schedule back from the fucking idiot named Mike and rolled my eyes at the brainless wonder called Eric and started towards my classes. That was exactly what I needed. One dork and one jock already fighting over who could walk me to class. What was this? Some kind of Disney Original movie? Neither of them would have a hook up and even if they drove, I didn't think I would be able to stand two minutes alone with either one of them. They both trailed after me, trying to engage me in some form of conversation or another, but I ignored them. It wasn't until someone ran into me, knocking my bag off my shoulder and my schedule out of my hands that I stopped and let them catch up to me. "Jesus Christ, C-C-Cullen. Can't you watch where the fuck you're going?" Mike snarled at the boy who had bent down to pick up his fallen bag while Eric ran after my floating schedule. I wondered briefly why Mike had drawn out the kid's name like that. The boy looked up, first at Mike and then at me, freezing for just a moment when he did so. "S-sorry," he mumbled to me, not looking back at Mike. He stood up straight, holding out my bag to me. What the hell was this guy doing in Podunk, Washington? And why the hell did he take shit from the likes of this stupid Mike guy? The Cullen kid was obviously so much more superior in every way. His bronze hair was unruly but in a way that would make the girls in Phoenix wage war just to run their fingers through it. He had a perfect face, all straight lines, green eyes, and long lashes. And he was tall, well, taller than me, which at five foot four wasn't hard to accomplish. "Why you have to be such a freak?" Mike kept up, roughly grabbing my bag from Cullen and handing it back to me. I was just about to tell Mike to knock it the fuck off when the biggest fucking high school kid I'd ever seen came around the corner. My eyes widened as I took in the anger etched on his face. He stopped right next to the bronze haired god with low self esteem and shot daggers at Mike. Instantly, Mike's

body conveyed his nervousness. On instinct, I stepped away from the three boys, suddenly realizing that Eric had frozen in place behind me. "What is your problem, Newton?" "Um, hey, Emmett," he said, carefully, his voice quivering as he spoke. "Nothing. Your, uh, your brother just nearly knocked the new girl over and I" "Thought calling him a freak would be an appropriate response?" Emmett took another step closer to Mike. This was certainly very, very interesting. The big guy was the bronze guy's brother and while Mike seemed to enjoy being a prick to the bronze guy, he was absolutely terrified of the big guy. I hoped Mike pissed his pants. I shook my head. What the fuck was I doing? Why did I give two shits about the happenings between these people? I had to remember my priorities. The bronze guy seemed absolutely too weak to give me a ride anywhere and I wouldn't be in a confined space with the big one if someone paid me loads of money and weed. And neither of them were dope smokers. I could just tell. Grabbing my schedule from Eric, I began to walk away, not missing the fact that the bronze Cullen's eyes followed my actions carefully. Thank God for lunch. I did enjoy Photography a little, but everyone had nicer cameras than I did and it made me jones for some pot even more. I got to the cafeteria and took a seat at a vacant table. Everyone else seemed to be in the lunch line. I quickly checked my blood sugar, trying to be discreet about it, before I pulled out my bottle of water and pop tart. Ah, the lunch of champions. Before I knew what was happening, the empty table I was sitting at filled up with people I had seen throughout the day. If that didn't sour my mood, the fact that Mike sat down next to me while Eric took a seat across from me surely took my mood from sour to unbelievably tart and acidic. "Oh my God, Bella, I cannot believe that we haven't had a chance to talk yet. You're in my English and Calc classes. I'm Jessica. Mike told me you like Bella rather than Isabella and I totally agree, there's something just so beautiful about the name Bella and something so stuffy about Isabella." My eyes turned to the girl sitting on the other side of Mike. My god she could talk. "Hi." Her eyes widened as if she was shocked that I acknowledged her. "So, how do you like Forks? Are you getting around okay? It must suck to have a cop for a father. I wouldn't want to be driven to school in a cop car. If you want I can take you. I have a Honda, it kind of sucks but I think my parents are planning to get me something new when I graduate. Too bad that's a year and a half away, right?" I smiled, but turned my eyes to the other people in the cafeteria. They settled on the table where Bronze Cullen was sitting with Big Cullen. There were three other people sitting with them. A beautiful blonde, obviously a cheerleader, hanging all over Big Cullen and a small dark haired girl with unbelievably expensive clothing, holding hands with a male blond. "I see you've discovered the Cullens and the Hales. Don't even bother. They're all together. Emmett's with Rosalie and Alice is with Jasper. Rosalie and Jasper are twins and then the Cullens are all adopted or something. Edward's the only one who's not attached to anyone. He doesn't seem to" "They're a big bunch of freaks," a blonde haired girl next to Jessica said. Instantly, I didn't like her. "Thank you!" Mike exclaimed. "They're all crazy or messed up in some kind of way. That's why they flock together like that." "And didn't you and Edward have a thing?" the blonde asked Jessica.

Jessica immediately blushed. "Oh yeah. For being a big freak, he's very skilled. It must be those musician's hands." My eyes trailed down the Bronze Cullen's body until they reached his hands. They weren't overly large, yet the fingers were long and slender. I supposed they would be good for playing instruments. "And no need for him to talk when there's so many more interesting things to do with his mouth." Mike rolled his eyes and pushed Jessica a little. "Whatever." "Oh, don't be jealous, Mikey, you know I prefer you in the sack." "Ew," another girl with glasses said, obviously feeling like I did, that we were venturing into the realm of too much fucking information. I didn't want to know who was screwing who here. My eyes left the Cullen/Hale table and moved to a table where all the occupants were males. One of them was incredibly big, almost as big as Emmett. "And who's that guy?" I asked, letting my eyes point the way. "The big guy." "Oh," Jessica's voice seemed fall into a conspiratorial whisper. "That's Jacob Black." For whatever reason, the name seemed oddly familiar. "Total druggie." My eyebrow shot up. "Your dad probably knows him real well." That was all I needed. I tucked my water bottle back into my bag and stood up. "Where are you going, Bella?" Mike asked, his voice anxious. "Um." I couldn't find anything to say, so I just shrugged and took off from the table, making a quick line to Jacob Black's table. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I did. "Hey," I said, drawing upon all of my confidence. What the fuck did I care what these people thought about me? None of them knew me. Jacob looked up at me, his deep brown eyes narrowing slightly as he studied my face. My god, he was a bit intimidating, even if he was wearing a dirty hippy Bob Marley shirt. "Hey," was all he said. He had to know that I was Bella, the 'new girl'. The fact that he didn't seem as happy or shocked to be speaking with me as everyone else in the school did made me a little nervous. I shifted on my feet, shoving my bag back up on my shoulder. "Can I talk with you?" His eyebrows pushed together as he continued to study me. "About what?" Stupid motherfucker. I knew he was holding. I could just tell. "About your shirt," I said, using my most snotty voice as I narrowed my eyes back at him. Finally, ever so slightly, the edges of his mouth curled up. "So talk." "Somewhere else." He sighed, shoved the rest of his piece of pizza into his mouth and stood up. His friends snickered and made a few crude comments. "Shut up," he said, his mouth still full, smacking the back of one of his friend's head with his hand as he moved past. He guided me out of the cafeteria and didn't stop walking until we were outside, small pellets of rain dripping into my hair. "So?" he said, his long legs stopping and allowing me to catch up to him. "So I heard that you might know where I can get some ganja." Jacob's face was calm. "I don't know what you're talking about." Shaking my head, I clicked my tongue at him. "Yes, you do."

"You're the fucking Chief of Police's daughter and you're asking me on your first day of school if I can get you some pot?" I nodded. "You're insane." "Sometimes, but not right now." "How stupid do you think I am?" I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the moist bricks of the school. "Well, you don't look stupid, but since I don't know you, I have no real way of knowing." "You do know me." I quirked my brow at his statement. "Bella fucking Swan, Charlie Swan's daughter who comes up every summer. We used to make mud pies together." Again I intentionally formed a confused expression. "Jesus, you can't remember our dads dragging us all over the damn state while they fished?" A few vague memories came back to me. I looked up at Jacob's face. There was a boy I remembered shoving into the mud every once in a while and then crying when he pulled my hair. "Smile." I watched as Jacob rolled his eyes, but plastered a smile on his face. "Yeah, now I remember you." He folded his arms over his massive chest and cocked his head to the side. "You stopped visiting." Letting his eyes wander over my body, his smile shifted into something meant to be seductive. "You got all grown up, didn't you?" Again, I couldn't help but roll my eyes as his non-subtle comment. "So can I get some weed or not?" "How do I know that you haven't turned into a Narc?" "Did I tell Charlie about the time when you stole his beer when we were twelve?" He rolled his eyes, obviously accepting the fact that I wasn't a Narc. "So, about that pot" Jacob grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the bricks, away from the school. I wasn't really afraid, even though it seemed like a natural response would have been fear, especially since he was so much bigger than me. And despite having played in the mud with him, I really didn't know him. We stopped just inside the woods that surrounded the school. "I don't have any for you to buy here. One more 'infraction' and I'd be expelled and Charlie would stop being so lenient on me." He dug into his pocket, pulling out a hard pack of Camel Lights. Flipping open the box top, he plucked out a perfectly rolled joint. "But we can get high before going back into hell." He nodded towards the school. "Thank God!" I exclaimed, finding a relatively dry fallen tree to sit down on. "I haven't had any since leaving Phoenix." He lit it and took his time taking several long pulls, some to get it going, others to take into his lungs. Finally, he passed it to me and I felt almost giddy at the feel of it between my fingers as I took a big hit. "So after school," he said during his long exhale, "You can come back to my house and I can get you some of your own." "Thanks." We passed the joint back and forth a few times and I started feeling fucking great. I ran my hands through my hair and let my eyes slip closed. "So you already with Newton or what?" I nearly choked. "What? No. He's justa puppy." Jacob's smile widened and I could tell he was nearly fried too. "Well, then," he said, leaning towards me. I felt my brow furrow but did nothing to stop what I knew

was coming. "Let me stake my claim then." Before I could even process his possessive words his mouth crushed down against mine. It was a fucking great kiss. "Bet you haven't had any of that since Phoenix either." I smiled, letting a chuckle bubble out of me. Feeling warm and relaxed, I sized Jacob up. He was tall and incredibly muscular. I should have at least been slightly afraid of him, like I was when I saw Big Cullen, but something about having had my hair pulled by him and shoving him into the mud as a kid made him safe. I licked my lips, tasting the remains of Jacob and marijuana. Standing up, I pushed him until he was sitting where I had been and then quickly moved to straddle him. Damn right I hadn't had any of that since Phoenix. Taking the smoldering roach, that was nearly too small to smoke, out of his hands, I gave it one last puff before flicking it behind him, listening as it sizzled in the damp foliage. Jacob's hands moved immediately to my ass, cupping it, fingers digging in slightly. I pressed my lips back against his, my hands moving to tangle wildly in his hair. Fuck, I could get laid before Biology. I wondered if little Miss Jessica could say that. He pulled back, his hands still rubbing my ass. "No panties on the first day of school? Jesus, Bella, you've turned into a dirty girl, haven't you?" "You have no idea." A wicked smile played on his face, but Jacob carefully stood me up, letting his hands linger on my hips a moment before brushing one of them in between my legs. "As much as I'd love to explore the Chief of Police's nasty little girl, I can't be late to class. Billy would have a fit if I got expelled." I backed up and grabbed my bag, watching as he rose to his full height. Dude must have been at least six foot six. "How is your dad?" I asked, trying to remember my manners but not really giving a shit. I could barely remember the guy anyway. "Needy as ever," was his reply as he lead me out of the woods. When we reached the edge of the campus, he turned to me. "So after school meet me out front." Score on my top two priorities. I nodded in agreement before moving down the path that I thought would take me to my Biology class. The bell rang just as I entered the class room. Lazily, I moved towards the teacher, holding out my class slip to him. Mike Newton was glaring at me. I gave him a little smirk and then shrugged my shoulders before the teacher introduced himself as Mr. Banner and pointed to my seat. Walking to my seat, I realized that my table partner was none other than the skilled hands, talented mouth Bronze Cullen. He looked way too nervous as I approached. He was breathing hard, as if he'd just gotten done running and his eyes flicked towards me for just a moment before moving to the front of the class and then out the window. Okay, so dude was strange. I supposed if he wasn't trying to grab my shit during class, I could deal with strange Bronze Cullen. "Hey," I said, giving him a tentative smile. I didn't want him to think that I was a prick like Newton and was somehow still pissed at him for running into me. He looked sick as his eyes found mine. All he did was give me a little nod in greeting. "I'm Bella," I said softly as Mr. Banner began to talk, bringing the class to order. Bronze Cullen gave me a small half smile before moving his eyes to the front of the room. I guessed that it was all he was going to give me. It was customary to give your name in return when someone introduced themselves to you, but whatever, I already knew his name. I pretty much zoned out until Mr. Banner called on Bronze Cullen. I had only been paying half attention to the entire class, so when Bronze Cullen hesitated before answering, I tried to remember what had been asked, so that I could whisper the answer to him. That was a nice thing to do right? But before I could, he took a very deep breath in, his hands clenching together on the desk before his head raised just slightly. "K-K-Kr-Krebs Cycle." He blew out a breath of relief as Mr. Banner indicated that

he was correct. Mike Newton turned around in his seat and narrowed his eyes at my desk partner. "V-v-very g-g-good, C-C-Cullen," he said and then broke out in quiet laughter. Bronze Cullen sighed and lowered his head, looking at his clenched hands. So, what? He had a stutter, which made sense, now that I thought about how Mike said his name earlier and Jessica's comment about not needing him to talk. Jesus, high school fucking sucked. I narrowed my eyes at Mike and when he turned his eyes to me, I said, "Don't be a dick." Mike rolled his eyes, but thankfully turned back around. The rest of Biology was boring. When the bell rang, Bronze Cullen was out of his seat quickly and into the hall before I had even closed my notebook. P.E. went by without incident, except for when I "accidently" spiked the volleyball into Mike Newton's head. It never ceased to amaze me how much the other gender would let me get away with. All I had to do was give him big doe eyes and bat my eyelashes and he was over his momentary anger and sending me puppy eyes back. Enough to make me vomit. But just as promised, Jacob was waiting for me out front and had given me a ride in his old beat up Rabbit to his house. His house felt familiar to me, but I didn't get much of a chance to remark on that fact as Jacob took me directly into his room where he proceeded to show me his extensive collection of buds and paraphernalia. But even before I could get him to reveal his pricing, he swept me into his arms and proceeded to resume where we had left off this afternoon in the woods by the school. Mere moments was all it took for me to be spread out on his rickety old desktop, my shirt pulled up, bra cups down, pants hanging off of one leg. Jacob was between my spread legs, doing his thing, making my head thump against the wall in the process. He had one hand curled around my thigh and the other one spread out over my stomach. He was so fucking good at this. It seemed such a waste for one teenage boy to be so fucking good at this, especially in Forks, Washington, where it wouldn't be appreciated. A stray thought passed through my mind, wondering if he had acquired his sexual technique or if he was just naturally skilled at it. But the thought was quite literally pounded out of me. Like usual, I kept my eyes mostly closed, only looking up at him during particularly sensational thrusts. But when I did look at him, he was like a fucking god, literally, all dark and powerful before me. I had no issues building up an orgasm and was incredibly surprised when one orgasm gave away to two. Typically high school boys could barely manage to thrust in a pleasing rhythmic way, let alone drive me to an adequate release. But Jacob had positioned me just right and kept hitting that spot within me that made my toes curl and my tongue itch. And he was just as good at coming himself. Most boys had some kind of epileptic fit when they came, but not Jacob. There were a few good grunts and 'fuck yeah' thrown in for good measure, but he maintained his cool even through his orgasm. His eyes were on me the entire time, even as he withdrew from me, peeling the condom off and tossing it in the trashcan. As I tugged my shirt back down, watching him pull up his pants, zipping them but leaving the top button unbuttoned, I rolled my eyes at him. "Just FYI, Jacob, don't go all romantic on me or any shit like that, okay?" His eyebrow raised, but a smile played on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about." "I'm not the girlfriend type, so don't think that what we just did means anything more than what it was." Again, I rolled my eyes at him as his smile widened. "What?"

"In case no one told you, Isabella Swan," he started in a light voice "I'm not the boyfriend type, so we should get along just fine." He sat back down on the edge of his bed as I pulled up my pants, shoving my feet back into my shoes. "So about this weed that you want" Jacob had cut me a fantastic deal on the quarter I took home, basically just charging me for an eighth. And it wasn't ditch weed either. Little to no shake in that bag. He loaned me a bowl too, but living with the chief of police, it would rarely get used. He also gave me a dugout and a one hitter. And Jacob took me to the store, so I actually had food to cook with for dinner. He offered to pick me up for school the next day and I happily accepted, after reiterating that despite the great orgasms we'd given each other, we were not romantically involved. He, again, informed me that a romantic anything was the farthest thing on his mind and that his life was complicated enough without a girlfriend hanging on him, wanting the moon and shit. So after dinner, and a nice soothing walk, with the one hitter, I barricaded myself in my room and waited for the morning to come, bringing another boring day at Forks High.

Chapter 2: New Girl, Same Cullen Edward I woke up with the worst headache I'd had in a while and it wasn't helped by the fact that Emmett's booming voice in the hallway was loud enough to cause the window panes to rattle. He was yelling at Alice to get out of the bathroom while pounding on the door with what sounded like a closed fist. I would never understand why he didn't just make the short trip to the second floor and use the bathroom down there. "And don't think I can't tell that you're listening, Edward. Get your ass up. We've got less than an hour before first period and I'm not going to be late because of you again." Come on, Emmett. I swear he was like the glue that held everything together around here. The problem was that Emmett didn't need to be the glue. He was just as messed up as the rest of us. Perhaps to the outsider at school, he looked like the one sane guy in the house of the loonies, but Alice and I knew different. Even Carlisle knew. But that was just Emmett. His coping mechanism was being perfect at everything. He got straight A's in every subject, on every paper, on every test and quiz. He was Captain of every major sport at Forks High. He had the best-looking girlfriend and managed to be the Vice President of the student government. He'd probably be asked to be valedictorian when he graduated at the end of the year too. And everyone loved him. So much so that the Prom King contest was really just a formality again this year. Alice was a bit different. Alice was popular, like Emmett but that was only because she tried so hard. She was friends with Rosalie, Emmett's girlfriend, but she wasn't a cheerleader like Rosalie. Typically she bonded with Rosalie and her friends over shopping and stupid things like that. Alice was good at it and I supposed it was her outlet, like athletics was for Emmett and music and writing were to me. But Alice had a harder time with keeping up the prefect faade than Emmett. She had what Carlisle and Esme, the psychiatrist who happens also to be the mother of Jasper and Rosalie, called 'episodes.' Basically they were just periods of time that she blanked out or whatever. Unfortunately, even with medication they still happened and what sucked for Alice is that they happened a lot in school, so she

would miss half a class worth of notes or not be able to finish a test because the time was up. Alice and I were in the same grade, so typically she compared my notes to hers and she was able to keep up that way. As far I as I knew, there were no triggers to Alice's 'episodes' and no real way to stop them. When I had asked her where she went when she zoned out, she just shook her head, but I could tell there was more. I didn't blame her for keeping whatever it was to herself. If it was something bad and Carlisle or Esme found out, she could go back to the institution and I knew how much she had hated that place. "Edward, I'm serious! Tick tock, I'm a clock and that means get your ass out here!" I sighed, knowing that if I didn't move, Emmett would attempt t open the door. That would not help my headache, so I swung my feet over the side of the bed, rubbed my hands down my face and stood up. I opened the door, scratching my neck and cocked an eyebrow at Emmett. "Don't give me that look, Edward." I shook my head. "I h-h-have a head a-a-ache." He rolled his eyes. "Suck it up, dude and take a hot shower, that'll help." He turned back to the closed bathroom door and started banging his fists against it again. "That is, if we can get Alice out." "I'll g-go d-d-downstairs," I mumbled, pulling my door closed. I always closed my door. My room was the only place that was mine, only mine and no one else was allowed in unless I was dying. I had Carlisle's promise on that. The shower did help my head ache, as did the toast and coffee I scarfed down for breakfast. But the two Tylenol helped even more. As usual, Emmett drove while Alice sat in the passenger seat, complaining that we never took her car. I sat quietly in the back, which was typical. There wasn't much I ever really needed to say. "Alice, next year you and Edward can fight it out over what car you drive to school, but until I graduate, I'm driving. Dad said so." Emmett always called Carlisle Dad. He'd only been adopted two years before I was, but he always seemed much closer to Carlisle than Alice or I. "And do you know why he said so?" "Shut up, Emmett," Alice whined. I was sure she didn't want to hear it again. "Because you've already gotten two tickets and nearly ran into Chief Swan, and you've only had your license for a year!" Alice could never produce an excuse for her lead foot but it had been one of her episodes that had caused her to nearly sideswipe Chief Swan's police cruiser. To be honest, Carlisle would probably want me to drive us to school next year anyway. "Oh! Speaking of Chief Swan, his daughter's first day is today." I groaned and immediately wished that I hadn't. "Dude, don't start. You already had the conversation with Esme and Dad." I shook my head and recalled the conversation from the night before. "It will be good for you, Edward," Esme said, smiling her shrink smile at me. "At some point you're going to need to build relationships with people who aren't in your family circle." I shook my head, my eyes darting to Carlisle for help. He knew what I was and wasn't capable of and he would defend me against this highly ridiculous course of action.

"She's right, Edward," was his soft reply. My face fell as my brows furrowed together. "From what I can tell, Bella Swan has had some similar experiences to yours. You could help her. She could help you." "You want to get better, don't you?" I hated when Esme did that, when she indicated to me that she thought I was not right to begin with. "B-b-but I'll have to t-t-talk to h-her and wh-wh-what if I" "You won't get any better communicating if you don't try, Edward. I realize that Emmett and Alice have a tendency to enable you, finishing your sentences and all, but they won't be around to do that for you forever. So it's best that you start standing on your own now." My jaw tightened as I remembered the insinuation that I leaned on Alice and Emmett. I never asked them to take up for me or to help me in any way. It wasn't my fault that it was easier for them to finish my sentences for me than to wait the five minutes it took me to get out a five word question. But now I would have to be 'paired' up with the Swan girl and I had no choice. Of course, neither did she. I didn't even know if she'd been informed yet of the arrangement. And as far as 'similar experiences,' I didn't know why that would be important in the least. If have parts of her past were like mine, then she wouldn't want to talk about them. Just like I didn't. The Jeep stopped and I realized that we were already in the school parking lot, next to Jasper and Rosalie. Emmett and Alice opened their doors, but before getting out, Emmett turned around and looked straight into my eyes, like he did every morning before school. "Don't take shit today, Edward. If Newton says anything to you today, pop him in the mouth. You know Dad won't be mad. He knows that little prick deserves it." Emmett very rarely said anything bad about anyone, but he really disliked Mike Newton, even though they were both on all of the sports teams together. Every day Emmett would tell me to stand up to Newton, to hit him or something, but the thought of actually getting into a fight terrified me more than Mike's verbal abuse. I wasn't necessarily afraid of Mike Newton because honestly, I was taller than him and probably could physically take him, if my stupid mind didn't paralyze me first. All I could do was nod at Emmett. I knew he wanted me to not take 'shit,' as he so eloquently put it, but I knew that he knew today would be no different than any other day. I watched as Alice moved quickly to join Jasper and Rosalie made her way to Emmett as I exited the Jeep. Both Jasper and Rosalie said good morning to me, and I nodded my good morning to them as well. They were close enough to family to where they knew if I didn't speak it wasn't a slight towards them, it was just easier than taking a minute to say 'good morning' back to them. I walked behind them, not really wanting to be a part of the conversation. Jasper and Rosalie had my sympathy as their family was nearly as messed up as mine. And they had a psychiatrist for a mother. That would be worse than having a physician for an adopted father who liked to work in tandem with the psychiatrist. Esme and Carlisle had so many big plans and schemes for making us all healthy. It was amazing that after all of these years that they hadn't given up. As usual, I went straight away to my locker after splitting off from my siblings and their respective significant others. Most of my days repeated in the same fashion, not much deviating from the day before. But today, wasn't like that. Usually I could avoid the attention of Newton by walking far enough away that he didn't notice me, but today, he had been walking with Eric Yorkie and the New Girl. Of course, I didn't realize she was even there until I ran right into her. My head had been down, as usual and for whatever reason, I failed to see their feet as they came towards me.

I ended up knocking into her, sending paper and her bag down to the floor. Yorkie didn't seem to pay me any attention. He was typically decent like that, but Newton had a field day with it. But it was to be expected. He never missed an opportunity to make me feel like dirt, especially when there was someone else around he could impress by putting me down. Today it just so happened to be Bella Swan. And she was beautiful. I couldn't help but stare a little. Her parents certainly knew what they were doing when they named her Bella. She was so unlike all of the girls here in Forks. I didn't know where she was from but I was certain they didn't make girls like her around here. She seemed to accept my simple apology for running into her and didn't seem to appreciate Newton's attempts at pointing out my stuttering issue. And when Emmett came around the corner, she instantly backed away from Newton. I didn't know if it was to indicate that she wasn't 'with' him or because she was slightly frightened of Emmett. I hoped it was because she didn't want to be associated with a moron like Mike. Even before the confrontation was over, she grabbed her things and moved off towards whatever class she had. And I was thankful for that because nothing was more embarrassing than having your big brother force someone to apologize to you. Except having your big brother force someone to apologize to you in front of the pretty new girl. I wished, as always, that Emmett would see that no matter how much he thought he was helping me, that he wasn't. Emmett couldn't be with me all of the time. And if I was just allowed to ignore Newton, the jerk would have at least gotten bored with it all by now and found a new person to humiliate. But since Emmett always kept sticking up for me and forcing Newton to apologize, I was sure Mike thought I sat around at home and cried to Emmett about him, which would only excite the jerk more. All morning in school, my mind wandered to Bella Swan. Now that I had seen her, Carlisle and Esme's little plan seemed to be even less plausible to me than before. How in the world would I, stupid and stuttering Edward Cullen, be able to communicate and have actual conversations with her? It seemed impossible. Even if I didn't stutter normally, I doubt that I'd be able to get through a conversation with someone so beautiful without stammering. And that's not even mentioning my social anxiety disorder. Esme thought that the medications she gave me did something, and maybe they did, but they didn't do enough. The only difference between now and before I started taking those pills was the fact that I could now go to school without having a violent breakdown in the morning. Those had been fun. The only thing that would calm me down was Alice's voice. She and I had been adopted at the same time and for whatever reason, she was the only one who had ever been able to talk sense into me when my mind closed down. She was an angel like that. But now I would be forced to not only associate with Bella Swan, but talk to her too. But that wasn't until tomorrow. I tried to calm myself down from the rising panic I felt today by reminding myself that it wasn't until tomorrow that I had to figure out how to talk to Bella Swan. I watched her at lunch. She had been sitting by herself but then Newton's group joined her. She hadn't looked pleased. Bella's eyes had moved over to look at the table I shared with my siblings and Jasper and Rosalie. I looked away then. And then all of the sudden, she was up and crossing the cafeteria, looking more confident than I would have ever felt in a new school. And she left the cafeteria with Jacob Black. Jacob Black of all people. I didn't have anything against him or anything, except for the fact that he made it no secret that he had his own methods of self-medicating. And even that I didn't care so much about except when he tried to pawn his habits off onto other people. Jacob was about as messed up as the rest of us, but unlike the rest of us who at least attempted to pretend to care about therapy and 'getting better,' he basically spat in the face of Esme and her work.

Bella and Jacob didn't return to lunch, and when she came into my Biology classroom, I nearly fainted. There was only one open seat and Mr. Banner had promised that it would stay open so that I didn't have to sit next to anyone. He promised. But apparently just like everyone else, his promises meant next to nothing because Bella came to sit down next to me. I tried to calm myself down, hoping that this would get me used to it. After all, tomorrow I'd have to spend even more time with her. As she sat down, I could smell that she and Jacob had been smoking marijuana. So she was like too. It was too bad. It made me think of my mother. Not Carlisle's ex-wife, but my real mother. I did my best to push that back, instead trying to concentrate on breathing. Mr. Banner betrayed me a second time today as he called on me with a question about chemical reactions and cellular respiration, and I had to answer. And of course, my stupid mouth and mind couldn't figure out a way for me to answer it without sounding like a stammering idiot. I could always hear myself think without the stutter, but the moment I pushed air through my voice box, it got stuck. It wasn't like I wasn't used to the snickering I got when I had to speak in front of people and for the most part all of these kids were used to it and no longer found it funny. But Mike Newton wasn't one of those kids. He had to turn around and say "V-v-very g-g-good, C-C-Cullen." As if that was even funny. Truthfully though, I wouldn't have minded as much if I hadn't been sitting next to Bella. But as Mike laughed in my face, Bella told him to stop being a dick. It actually made me a little happy that she would do that for me, even though she didn't know me. But then I thought about it some more and I actually got a little sad. I was such a loser that the new girl, who didn't even know me, had to stick up for me. It was embarrassing. I had no idea what someone like Bella Swan would think of me, but she had to know like the rest of the students at Forks High, that I was an incredible loser. As soon as the bell rang, I raced out of class, not wanting a typical run in with Newton and not wanting to show Bella how truly inept I was, at least any more than I had already showed her today. I went to the administrative offices and sat down, relieved that it was just me and a few other people inside the room. It was time for my appointment with the speech pathologist. Every Tuesday and Thursday, I had to come here and finish out my school day with a session with Ms. Rice. She was okay and typically our sessions were just us talking and reading out of books. It was never anything painful, although even after all the years of coming to Ms. Rice or people like her, my stuttering never got any better. I was sure the Esme and Carlisle were convinced that I wasn't trying hard enough, but no one wanted me to speak normally more than I did. Just like usual, Ms. Rice came out and got me after about five minutes. Once she was situated in the chair next to mine in her office, she gave me a quick smile. She never sat behind her desk during our time together. I supposed it was because she wanted to make sure she was friendly and perhaps I could see her as someone equal to me and trustworthy, but she had no speech impediment and probably never knew a day of ridicule in her life. "So, Edward, how's the day going for you?" I shrugged my answer, but knew immediately that she would not approve. Her head tilted and she just waited, so I took a deep breath. "F-f-fine." She waited again and I sighed. "A-b-b-b-bout normal." Smiling, she handed me a book. It was orange and small and I knew exactly what it was. "Have you been practicing?" "Yes."

"Would you like to start?" "N-no." Again, she smiled, taking the book back for a minute to flip open to the page she wanted me to read. She handed it back to me. "Just relax, okay? It's just me and you and no one else is listening. And look," she said, holding up her hands, "no notebook." She had stopped taking notes about me while I read when I told her it made me feel like a lab rat. "F-fine," I said with a sigh. "Relax. Let your mind tell your voice box what sounds to produce and let your mouth do what it needs to do to let them come out naturally." Taking a deep breath, I looked down at the book in my lap, my brow creasing. I hated this page. I wondered if a normal person could get through it without issues. "Th-th-through th-th-three chee-ee-eese t-t-trees, th-th-three free fleeeas flew. While th-th-these fleeeeas flew, freezy b-b-br-breeze b-b-blew. Freezy b-b-breeze made th-th-these th-th-three t-t-trees freeze. Freezy t-trees made th-these trees' cheeeese freeze. That's-s-s what made th-theese th-three free fleas sneeze." Stupid fox. Stupid kid's book. Stupid Dr. Seuss with his impossible words and rhythm! It had taken an insane amount of time for me to get those twenty or twenty five words out. I looked up at Ms. Rice and I knew anguish was written all over my face because that's what I felt. "Don't look so down, Edward. You improved there at the end. You stopped the prolongation of the word 'fleas' in the end and there were little to no blocks in the entire paragraph. Your repetitions are what we need to work on." I sighed, moving my eyes to stare out the window. It was just beginning to drizzle again outside. "Edward," she said, drawing my attention back to her. "You need to work on relaxing. Being nervous before a sentence or a word makes it difficult for your brain to control your mouth." "I'm nnnnot nnnnervous," I said. "You're a not a very good liar, Edward. Your prolongations in that sentence gives you away. You need to remember that you have nothing to be anxious about. We're just talking. Your entire body tenses up when we pick up a book to read it." My hand moved up to my mouth and without really realizing it I began to chew on my fingernails. As soon as I noticed, I threw my hand down to my lap. Ms. Rice was right about the nervousness. But in all of these years I had never been able to tame that. Not even the anti-anxiety pills could change it. Sighing, Ms. Rice held out her hand for the book and I gave it to her, but all she did then was hand me another book. It was green with a turtle on the cover. As much as I didn't want to read aloud anymore, I knew that I could at least handle this book better. Before I could open it, Ms. Rice spoke. "So what's the one thing in the world that can make you relax, Edward?" It was an easy question and I didn't have to think about the answer. But even as my mind clearly shouted out the one thing that always relaxed me, my mouth botched it up. I tried to make the word pass my lips, but it wouldn't. For whatever reason, my mind couldn't get my mouth to form the word. I could feel my cheeks balloon out as I tried to force the word. My right hand clenched into a fist and I brought it down onto my thigh, hoping to kick start my brain into working. This was what Ms. Rice would call a block. It was possibly more frustrating than the actual stuttering itself. Most people had no idea how difficult it was to be able to think of a word or a sentence in your

head but have your body refuse to let it out. It was trapped in the thick cage of my mind. I sighed, my head hanging low. "Relax, Edward. If you can't get it out, quit trying so hard. Breathe and slowly release it." I did as she asked, but the word still refused to pass my lips. We spent five minutes just trying to get the damn thing out. Finally, I let my eyes move to the window and focused on the rain that slid noiselessly down the pane of glass. "M-m-m-uuuusic." Slumping down into my chair, I let my head fall back, my eyes tightly closed, thanking whatever god was truly out there for at least letting me get it out, no matter how horrible it sounded when it did. "Very good." Ms. Rice's voice annoyed me and I sighed again. It wasn't very good. It was barely even mediocre. If it was very good, then I would be speaking in complete sentences in front of the entire school with my head held high. "So music relaxes you?" I nodded and was thankful when she allowed me to get away with it. "Then what you need to do before reading or speaking, is think about the most relaxing music you know. Let that saturate your mind for a moment before trying to talk." She nodded at the book. "Pick a page. Listen to the music in your head. Relax, and then read." I sighed and flipped through the pages until I found the one I could read the best. Taking in a deep breath, I let my sounds of Claire de Lune fill my mind and let myself get lost in it for a moment. The office disappeared, Ms. Rice disappeared and the book within my hands disappeared. Halfway through, I felt as relaxed as I was going to be, so I opened my eyes and looked at the words. I tried not to force it. I tried just to let my brain speak to my vocal chords and the muscles in my mouth without pressure. Three words into the first sentence, my calm broke as I stammered over one tiny little word and after that, it was a disaster. A hand ran through my hair and I lazily opened my eyes to see Alice sitting the back seat of Emmett's Jeep with me. It usually took Emmett ten minutes or more to extract himself from all of his admirers, so I usually found myself with Alice waiting on him. Today, she had slipped into the back seat with me. I could tell by the look on her face her day hadn't been much better than mine. "Can I borrow your English notes?" I nodded and raised an eyebrow. "All I remember is talking about Spain and bullfights and Hemmingway and the next thing I know Jasper's poking me in the side, telling me that class was over." "I'm s-sorry." "Did your day suck too?" I gave her a pointed look. "Yeah, it's Thursday, isn't it? So I guess you won't be talking for the next two days?" she asked, giving me a little smile. I never felt like talking after sessions with Ms. Rice. "Emmett told me about this morning with Mike." I sighed and Alice nudged me with her shoulder until I looked at her again. "If you won't beat the crap out of him then I will. And he said Bella was there! Oh my goodness, Edward, she's cute, isn't she?" I could feel the scowl form on my face. Alice was overly excited at the prospect of a new friend but I was annoyed that she had to remind me of the fact that I had nearly knocked Bella over this morning and then just sat around like a lump while a jerk like Newton made fun of me in front of her. "Don't worry, she won't go out with Mike Newton, Edward."

I couldn't help it. As much as I didn't want to speak, I had to now. "I d-d-don't care," a block formed as I tried to get out my next word and I hated how long it was taking me to get out one simple sentence to my sister, "who she g-g-g-goes out w-w-w-with, Aliiiiice." I sighed, annoyed at the time it took to say the words and with the fact that I had actually even bothered to speak. My annoying sister just smiled at me and ruffled my hair again. I rolled my eyes and ducked my head so that she would be forced to stop touching me. "But she's pretty, though, isn't she?" I gave her a look that told her that I obviously thought she was pretty. "She's in my Photography class. I wonder when her birthday is. I want to buy her a new camera. And some new clothes. I think she would look cute with shorter hair, don't you?" "S-she looks g-g-good now," I said and then immediately hated myself for it. Alice's smile brightened even more. I was so happy I could lighten her mood. I nearly growled at her while I narrowed my eyes and clenched my teeth. "Stop, Edward." "St-st-stop what? You-you're the one thaaaat n-n-needs to st-st-stop, Aliiiice. Don't b-be a," my words halted for a moment and I tried to think of a Chopin song that relaxed me before continuing, "mmmatch mmaker. It n-n-never works." "But you think she's pretty," Alice sung, drawing out the word pretty. "Who's pretty?" Emmett asked as he hopped into the driver's seat. "Bella Swan," Alice answered him. Emmett's smile grew as he turned around, his eyebrows raised, eyes fixed on me. "You think she's pretty," he said with a nod. I sighed and rolled my eyes in response, fairly certain my face was turning an embarrassing shade of red right about now. "Well, hell yeah, she's pretty," Emmett said, obviously taking my silence as an acknowledgment. His face crumpled together as he added, "She should stay away from Black though." He shrugged, turning forward and starting the Jeep. "I guess she's like that though. We'll find out soon enough." Thankfully everyone was quiet until we reached home. As we walked up the front steps, Emmett unlocked the door and then said, "Dad is going to be home late. Dr. Cannatella called out sick, so he's pulling a double." I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, knowing what was coming next. "So Esme's going to bring dinner tonight." I had no idea why Carlisle and Esme insisted in treating us like we are all eight year olds, unable to stay in the house for more than a few hours on our own. Emmett, Alice, and I were no culinary wizards, but we certainly could survive cooking spaghetti. And with Esme came Jasper and Rosalie, who would both get all couple-y with Alice and Emmett, which would leave me and Esme alone. And Esme never just let me go to my room and have some peace after dinner. I shook my head, kicking off my shoes in the foyer, mentally preparing for another impromptu session with Dr. Hale and her amazing and unending bag of psychiatric tricks. Dinner was exactly what I had been expecting, an elaborate show of how much public affection Rosalie and Emmett could get away with in front of Esme, and how much of a conversation Jasper and Alice could have without saying a word. It was sickening, truly sickening. Esme tried to spark up a few conversations to include everyone, but as usual, no one was interested. Each time her eyes moved to mine, I shoved some more of the take-out Italian food into my mouth to save myself from the embarrassment of having an actual conversation.

And as usual, the two couples disappeared as soon as they finished eating, leaving me with Esme to clear the table. It just wasn't fair. Once when I complained, Jasper told me that it was entirely my fault. He said I needed to be more proactive in avoiding both clearing the table and his mother. I didn't think it would matter at all how proactive I was, Esme would always find me. She probably thought I was the worse of all of us. I could see where she was coming from. After all, I was the one who was socially inept and couldn't even hold a proper conversation with anyone in the house, let alone peers or members of the opposite sex that I wasn't related to. I had just finished loading the dishwasher when I turned to make as hasty of an exit as I could. "Edward," Esme said. I sighed and turned around. "What are you going to do?" As I turned, my brain raced to find the simplest word in my vocabulary to answer her. "M-m-music." "Are you going to play piano?" she asked with a smile. Of course she knew that piano was my preferred instrument, but she asked this question every time. I swallowed and sucked in a large breath of air. Pointing to the ceiling, indicating that I was going to retreat to my room, I answered, "Yes." I watched as she cocked her head to the side, keeping the smile frozen on her face. "The piano's down here." Sighing again, I barely contained the growl that wanted to erupt from my chest. Of course the piano was down here. It was my house; I knew where the piano was. Carlisle kept it hostage down on the first floor in an attempt to lure me out of my bedroom. I had a keyboard in my room, along with my guitars and violins, but he thought if he kept the Grand Piano downstairs I would be tempted to spend more time out in the open. Usually it didn't work, although it nearly broke my heart passing it every day and knowing that it wouldn't be played. I took another breath and tried to push out my word, hoping that it would be enough for her to let me be at least for one night. It was Thursday after all. We'd all have to endure sessions with Dr. Hale tomorrow. The block in my head kept me from saying anything. It wasn't helped by her eyes, fixed on me, as she waited in that annoyingly patient way of hers. Finally, I pushed it from my mind and out of my mouth, stumbling the entire way. "K-k-k-keyyyboard." Her smile stayed on her face as she extended a hand and laid it gently on my shoulder. It was times like these that I wished she wasn't a mother; that she could truly just be a clinical, detached professional. It would have been easier to shut her down; shut her out. But she was in my house after having just fed me dinner, smiling at me with that motherly grin. "Play the piano for me and keep me company." Nothing was ever a request from her; it was always a subtly hidden command. Instead of answering, since I knew I couldn't say no and I didn't want to hear my loser of a voice concede and do something I would rather not do, I just walked out of the kitchen and into the sitting room. She followed me and took a seat in the chaise lounge as I sat on the piano bench. Truthfully, I was excited to play, as I rarely allowed myself to play on anything other than my keyboard. But my excitement only annoyed me since it meant Esme then got what she wanted and she could chalk it up to 'helping' me. I raised the cover and let my fingers start gliding across the keys. I had hundreds of songs memorized, so I rarely needed sheet music. Some were from the great composers that everyone knew, some were obscure little melodies that only true connoisseurs of

classics would know and then still others were my own compositions. I knew which ones Esme liked the best and decided to start with one of her favorites. When I played new songs for her, she always wanted to interpret the emotions behind the song and start labeling my emotions as if I picked the song because it reflected my current mood. Heaven forbid I play Moonlight Sonata. She would instantly think that I was depressed and wanted to start writing my suicide note. It would take too many words for me to express to her that Beethoven's piece didn't make me depressed and it held no connotation of sadness for me. Esme wasn't an aficionado of music. She heard what she heard and analyzed it with a shrink's mind. Music wasn't the same for everyone and just because she got depressed at a certain song, didn't mean that everyone did. Moonlight Sonata was peaceful to me. It was what I thought about on the nights I couldn't sleep. I could imagine myself in a moonlit garden, surrounded by night blooming plants and the sounds of trickling water. I could imagine the moon shining down, illuminating all of the most beautiful things in the garden as the stars twinkled like tiny diamonds reflecting a beam of light. But all Esme seemed to connect it with was morbidity and death. "How was your session with Ms. Rice today, Edward?" "F-fine," I answered casually. There was no need to go into the depth of my failure. "Emmett mentioned that you ran into Bella Swan today." My fingers stopped playing the lighthearted Mozart piece and I swung my head around to look at Esme. I shrugged. "Did you speak with her?" she asked in a hopeful voice. I shook my head. I didn't think one word of apology constituted the type of 'speaking' Esme was talking about. I turned back around and changed songs. I started to play the very first song of my own that I had played for Esme. "Do you have any classes with her?" She was going to continue to ask me about Bella Swan until she was satisfied. I nodded. "B-Biology." "That's great!" I sighed, trying to conceal it. "She'll have friendly face in at least one of her classes. It'll be good for her to have a friend like you." I wanted to slam my hands down on the keys and yell at her. Bella Swan wasn't my friend and even if Esme had some weird ideas about how we could help each other through therapy, she still wouldn't be my friend. Bella was too good, too pretty, and too smart to be my friend. There wasn't a person in that school besides my siblings and their significant others that was willing to be a friend to a retard like me. "She w-won't have m-much trouble finding f-friends, Esme. She's nnnot like me." I ignored the breathy sigh Esme released and continued to play. "You know, Edward, you're able to speak a little more fluently when you play. Have you noticed that?" I ignored her, instead directing my attention to the song, hoping to just get through it and be able to get upstairs, away from her; away from everyone. But Esme wasn't having that. "Carlisle says that you had a panic attack on Monday." My eyes closed. Now I knew what this whole thing was about. She'd gotten me to play the piano, talk about something else and now she was going in for the psychiatrist's kill. Although my breathing sped up slightly, I kept my fingers moving along the keys, producing the same perfect sounds I always did at the piano. "What happened at the mall, Edward?" "I d-di-didn't want to gggo." Alice had asked me to go and of course, Carlisle agreed that I needed to go, even though I needed nothing from the stupid mall.

"But you did and what happened?" she coached. I exhaled, letting my fingers complete the song before I turned to her, knowing that she would make me look at her at some point. My eyes were still closed. "I c-c-c-cccouldn't breathe." "Why?" "T-t-t-t-too maaaany people." Slowly, I let my eyes drift open. "The mmmmedication ddoesn't w-w-work." Although she nodded, she wasn't nodding at me, she was nodding to whatever was going on in her head. "Well, you're able to go to school, usually without incident, but that's a closed community, so to speak. You know everybody there. Perhaps the mall triggered it because the only person you knew was Alice." I failed to see why it mattered. I wished that they would all just realize and respect the fact that I was a freak and I wouldn't be normal and that doing normal things like going to the mall weren't things a freak like me could do. It didn't matter why; it only mattered that I couldn't do it without my body tensing up like it was in a vice and my brain shutting down. But Esme wouldn't give upever. So it was no surprise to me when she said, "You should try it again." My teeth clenched. I should try it again. Yes, what a logical thing for me to do. I definitely wanted to go and freak out amongst random people and have the mall security come and pick me up like a rag doll and be ushered to the hospital in an ambulance while the EMTs tried to ascertain whether I was having a heart attack or a seizure. Yes. That made perfect sense. I stood up. "Where are you going?" Esme asked. What business was it of hers? This was my house, not hers. She was on my time, not hers. I pointed upstairs. "T-t-tired." I started walking towards the steps but stopped when I heard her voice from behind me. "Edward, I know it's hard, but you have to push past it." Great advice. That's like telling a depressed person to just smile, it's not that bad. It should be a rule that therapists, psychologists and psychiatrists had to have some kind of first hand knowledge of some of the disorders they sought to treat so that they wouldn't say stupid things like that. Why didn't I think of that? Just push past it. Great thinking. I would have to give that a try. I forced my feet to move and finally I was in the sanctuary of my room. The rest of the night passed without incident. Esme, Jasper, and Rosalie all went home and no one bothered me again until I woke to the sounds of Emmett beating on the bathroom door again. I wished Carlisle had had enough sense years ago to have given Alice the bedroom with the private bathroom. He still could, seeing as that bedroom was just the guest bedroom anyway. But he wouldn't. Alice had a tendency to cut herself and having a bathroom all to herself seemed to strike fear into Carlisle that one day we'd find the she'd cut herself too deep and had bled out without us knowing about it. But she hadn't been doing that much any more, at least not that I knew of. Jasper was good for her like that. But the fear and threat was still there, so I still had to be awakened by Emmett's fists on the bathroom door while he shouted at her to hurry up. I tried to ignore it when Emmett turned his fists loose on my door, yelling at me to get out of bed. "It's Friday, Edward. Just think two whole days after today that you can spend in your room doing whatever it is that you do!" I was successful in ignoring him up until the point that the door knob

twisted. At the sight and sound of that, I jumped out of bed and grabbed at the door knob. I tried yanking it open, but I realized that I had locked it last night, like I did every night. I let out a shaky breath, trying to control my body's response. I wasn't going to have an attack. I wasn't going to freak out. This was my house. This was my room. It was only Emmett and the door had been locked. When I had mastered my emotions and bodily reactions enough, I unlocked the door and pulled open the door. Emmett was standing there with a smug look etched into his dopey features. "D-d-don't d-d-do thaaat again." His smirk widened. I was sure I didn't sound the least bit intimidating to him, especially since I couldn't even get out four words without sounding like loser. He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Got you out of bed, didn't it?" I huffed, moving out into the hall and closing the door behind me. I sulked down to the free bathroom, listening to Emmett resume his pounding on the bathroom door. Just like every other day, before we got out of the Jeep at school, Emmett turned to me and told me not to take shit from anyone today and again today I took shit from Newton. I was happy to see that this time he wasn't accompanied by Bella Swan but the rest of his followers were tagging along and thought his stuttering jokes were just the funniest thing they'd ever heard. And of course, when Mike knocked the books out of my hands, in what he said was 'pay back' for accidentally knocking into Bella yesterday, they just roared with laughter. And when he did his signature move of shoving me into the locker as he moved past me with his shoulder, one would have thought that he had just won Amateur Night at the Apollo. I bent down to retrieve my books before Emmett could come around the corner and see his loser of a brother picking up his things, like he always did. "Hey," I heard above me. I looked up and there was Bella Swan, standing over me, giving me a smile that clearly told me that she was high. I could feel my face contort as I tried to force a greeting from my mouth, but I couldn't say hello for anything. My stupid mind and body refused once again to work in unison, making me feel like a complete idiot in front of heragain. To my horror, she crouched down next to me and started pulling papers and books towards her and stacking them on her knee. "I'll kick his ass," she said to me with a smile. My eyes closed for a moment as I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me again. She had seen the entire thing. When I opened my eyes she was staring at me. I needed to say something. I needed to prove to her that I wasn't a complete idiot-freak-loser. My tongue seemed to stick to the roof of my mouth. She smiled at me again, pushing the papers into my arms before standing up. My body finally did something my mind told it to, which was to stand up. Her big, round brown eyes looked up at me and I realized how much shorter she was than me. She should be taller with all that confidence. "See you in Bio," she said before brushing past me, her shoulder making contact with my bicep. Letting out an unconsciously held breath, I looked up at the ceiling. What an idiot! Of course I didn't see her again until lunch. She ate very little while Newton and his friends gathered around her as if she were the second coming of Christ. She looked bored with them all, which made me entirely too happy. At some point she had a small conversation with Angela Weber. I wasn't trying to stare or be nosey, I just couldn't seem to help it. And then when there was fifteen minutes left of lunch, she got up and walked out. It wasn't hard to notice that Jacob Black had left just five minutes

before her. And when she got to Biology, ten minutes late, she smiled at Mr. Banner and said "I got a little lost." The school wasn't that big. It would have been hard to get lost, but as she sat down next to me, I could smell that she'd been smoking with Jacob again. As she stared glassily up at the blackboard, I could see a small little red-purplish bruise forming on the side of her neck. It was exactly the same as what Emmett liked to leave on Rosalie and what Alice would blush about after a date with Jasper. Why it bothered me so much that Bella had a hickey, I didn't know. But I knew it did. Mr. Banner passed out slides and microscopes, completing my negative mood by reinforcing that today was in fact the day that I had to work with Bella. I had thought that I would have had another couple of hours, but Mr. Banner had other ideas. I tried to let the music play in my head in anticipation of having to speak to her, hoping that Ms. Rice was right and that all I needed to do was relax and I would be able to have a normal conversation like a normal person. When Bella slid the answer sheet between us, I looked at her. She was looking right at me and she was unbelievably perfect. She was too pretty. Why couldn't Chief Swan have had an ugly daughter, one with buck teeth and a lazy eye? Then she wouldn't have been so intimidating. The music fled my mind and in fact, so did everything else. She smiled at me, "So now you're forced to talk to me," she said, her tone low and conspiratorial. My brow creased and my mouth suddenly went dry. She was expecting me to speak. She had expectations already and I was going to fail and then there would be no hope of salvaging her opinion of me. My heart raced and my breathing sped up as I tried to get my brain to work beyond the bare minimum of necessary function. I felt sick. I wrung my hands together as I desperately told my mouth and mind to work together and produce a sound that at least mimicked a word. My breath caught when one of her small hands moved to mine and immediately my hands stilled. "I was just kidding, Edward. You don't have to talk if you don't want to." Edward. She said my name. She knew my name. And she hadn't made it a joke, imitating my stammer; not that I thought she would, but it was a relief. She withdrew her hand and I immediately moved mine under the table to my lap where they balled into fists. Bella spoke again, her voice light and casual as if she were talking to a normal person. "So I imagine that you're all sorts of smart because quiet types are always smart." She slid a slide into place underneath the microscope and adjusted the settings. "But don't think you're going to carry me through this class. I'm all kinds of knowledgeable about Biological topics, let me just tell you. I took AP in Phoenix. But I'm not going to carry you either." She pulled away from the microscope and wrote down the answer on the sheet, then shoved the instrument towards me, replacing the slide as she did. So she was from Phoenix and she thought I was smart. That was a good thing, I thought. She smiled at me again and then I couldn't help it; I gave her a half smile back. I looked through the eyepiece and instantly knew what the answer was, so I wrote it down. When I looked back up, Bella was still looking at me, this time with raised eyebrows. My mouth opened to speak before I even realized that I wanted to say something, but all that came out was "Ah-ah-ah," I sighed in defeat. "Duh-duh-duh," came from in front of us. I looked up to see Mike Newton, turned around in his seat, giving me a cross eyed look as he verbally humiliated me. Something launched itself from my table, hitting Mike in the chest. His eyes narrowed at Bella.

"Hey, that could have hit me in the eye!" I realized that the item had been a pencil and that Bella had thrown it at him. "So turn the fuck around and stop making poor Angela carry your ass through this remedial class." Mike huffed, rolling his eyes as he turned around. Bella turned back to me. "I told you I'd kick his ass, stupid fucker." I just looked at her. If Esme and Carlisle thought we had similar backgrounds, how in the world had she turned out so completely different than me? We finished the work before the bell rang and sat there in silence. It was fine by me because it was hardly fair for Bella to have to fill the void all by herself. After Biology, since it was Friday and I didn't have to see Ms. Rice, I went to the library to help return books and help grade papers. It was an easy task and Carlisle had arranged it as a way to give me credit for being a student aide. I didn't have to be around anyone other than the librarian, Ms. Peters and I rarely had to speak at all. For the rest of the school day I thought about everything Bella had said to me today. And I had to chuckle from time to time, thinking about what she said before the bell rang after Biology. She'd leaned in closer to me and said, "Hey, if everything goes right," I had gotten nervous at that point, "Mike should have a big knot on his head or maybe a swollen nose in an hour." I had wondered what she meant. Was she actually going to punch him? "I plan to spike a volleyball at his face next period in gym," she explained. So it hadn't been the worst day ever, but I was still unbelievably relieved when I was able to sit down in Emmett's Jeep, waiting to go home. But I would find no rest there. Esme and Carlisle would be there to start our weekend right; with therapy. I wondered if Bella even knew what was in store for her or not.

Chapter 3: Forks Friday Night Club Bella My second day at Forks High started off boring enough. I avoided Mike and Eric like the plague, even as they followed me around like puppies that thought I had a Milkbone in my pants. The first part of my day was fine. Photography was a waste, seeing as everyone else was developing their film for the assignment I hadn't done the assignment since Ms. Clark assigned it a week ago. Lunch was filled with annoying people sitting with me even though I hadn't asked them too. I did have a conversation with a girl named Angela Weber about what kids did for fun around here. She was as cool as someone like her could be, but she was nice and that wasnice. But I bored of it all quickly. Just as I thought I was going to go insane, I watched as Jacob made a point to stand up from his group of friends and walk past my table, his hand tapping his pocket, which told me he was going to light up. I waited for just a minute or two before I left the cafeteria and walked to the woods, where I found him waiting. "Thank the fucking Flying Spaghetti Monster!" I said as I sat down next to him on the fallen tree. "The what?" he asked with a soft laugh.

"Google it." I watched excitedly as he plucked a pre-rolled joint from his pack of cigarettes and lit it. He didn't take long passing it to me and I inhaled deeply, feeling the muscles in my face relax just from the first hit. We were quiet while we passed the J back and forth, but when he crushed it against the tree, he turned to me. "How was the night with Charlie?" "Fucking boring." Quickly, I turned myself, lifting my leg over his lap to straddle him. His hands immediately moved to my waist, holding me to him as my mouth attacked his. He tasted like pizza and chronic, which sounded more disgusting than it was. It was only moments until his mouth was at my neck, lapping and sucking. I hated hickeys, but his hands were doing the most intriguing things to my body, so I let him continue on his bruise-producing quest. Before I knew it, I had unzipped his pants, bringing his erection out and stroking him off while his mouth devoured mine. He came all over my hand and I pulled away, using the wet leaves to wipe his cum off of me. As I was bent down, he pressed himself against me from behind. "You can fuck me later. We have class," I reminded him as I straightened up and pulled away, grabbing my back pack and walking away. I was only a few minutes late to class and came up with some lame excuse as I ducked past the teacher. Taking my seat next to Bronze Cullen, I let my mind wander until the teacher started passing out papers and slides and microscopes. I was in a good mood, so I started to tease Bronze Cullen about the fact that he'd have to talk to me now. I didn't mean it in a bad or insulting way, but he looked like he was going to throw up or cry or have some kind of a breakdown, so I stopped, reminding him that he didn't have talk to me unless he wanted to. Being high, I was chatty, so I started talking to him about how good I was in Biology or whatever. At one point he opened his mouth as if to speak, but before he could really get anything out, Mike Newton turned around and made fun of him again. Mike was a fucking prick, so I flung my sharpened pencil at him. After that, I changed for P.E., spiked another volleyball at Mike's face and then batted my eye lashes at him until he couldn't stay pissed at me. I wondered how long it would be until I had to do more than flirt to cover up my violent tendencies towards him. Again, Jacob was waiting for me out front and I had expected him to make good on my promise of fucking him after school, but we didn't go to his house. He stopped his car at my house. "I thought" He shook his head dismissively. "I have a thing tonight, so maybe tomorrow." "A thing?" I asked. "Yeah, it's fucking stupid. But tomorrow I could pick you up early for a little wake-n-bake and then we could hike in the woods." Jacob licked his lips and leaned in close to me. "Ever been fucked in a forest?" Desert, yes. Forest, no. I smiled wickedly at him. "Don't come over too early, it's fucking Saturday after all. And don't think that it's a date or anything." Jacob sighed and I shrugged. "Just felt like I needed to remind you." "Your dad and my dad are going fishing tomorrow like usual. I won't be over before Charlie leaves." At my silent question, he answered, "Your dad would fucking flip if he knew his precious little girl was

getting banged by me. He fucking hates me." "You're his best friend's son." "Who sells dope and corrupts the youth of Forks." I shrugged again. "Socrates did the same thing, except for the dope-selling and now he's studied by everyone." Jacob gave me a quizzical look, obviously not knowing or caring about Socrates. "What does Billy think of your dope selling ways?" Jacob sighed. "He doesn't approve but he doesn't ask questions or make a big thing about it. He can't work and I can't make the kind of money we need by flipping burgers, so he realizes either I sell the shit or we don't eat and he can't go to the doctor." His eyes flicked to the clock on the dash. "Fuck, I have to go. See you tomorrow." As my hand found the door handle, he added, "Don't bother wearing panties tomorrow, unless you want them ripped off." I bit back a giggle and exited the car without saying another word. I had just gotten out a few ingredients for dinner when Charlie came through the front door. "Hey, kid," he said as he moved into the kitchen. "You're early." I looked down at the bag of fast food in his hands. "And you have food." "Yeah," he said, his eyes nervously darting around the kitchen and not resting on me. "I forgot to tell you, but we have an appointment." He held out the bag. "So here, I brought food for tonight." "What appointment?" I asked, my face settling into a frown. "And I typically stay away from fast food." "I got you a salad, 'cause I know you have to eat healthy and all that." Again, he was nervous, his voice told me that he was hiding something, but before I could ask, he said, "Come on, we have to eat." Charlie was quiet and nervous during the entire car ride and he carefully avoided answering any question about where we were going. I didn't like it. I hated surprises and I hated being trapped in a car without the slightest idea of where I was going to end up. I hadn't been caught doing anything bad, so far, so I didn't think he was taking me to jail or a group home, but when we stopped at a large three story house, I turned to him, with betrayal burning in my eyes. "What's this? Where are we?" "Calm down there, Bella, it's all apart of the agreement." I breathed out angrily. "What agreement?" "The agreement with the judge in Phoenix. In order for you to avoid any kind of severe discipline, I had to take you." I couldn't help but hear an emphasis on the word 'had.' "And you have to go to therapy. This is Dr. Cullen's place. He and Dr. Hale have set up" "EXCUSE ME?" I yelled. "I don't need therapy!" Charlie sighed and shook his head. "You stole a car, Isabella. You don't think you could just get away with that did you?" The whole thing pissed me off, ruining my relatively good mood. The word therapy snapped the very thin thread within me. I had been polite and nice so far, but it ended here.

"Of course not, Charlie." I drug out his name, unimpressed by his parental authority. "But I thought moving to Podunk, Washington with you was enough of a punishment," I spat at him. He sighed again and turned his eyes from me as if I was just going to let him be all cool and calm and cop-like with this shit. "Don't you think it's torture enough for me already to have to live in your shitty little house and pretend like you're actually related to me?" I watched his jaw clench. His voice was tight when he spoke. "Listen to me, Bella. I wish like hell I'd been there for you more while you were growing up, but there wasn't a choice." What the fuck ever. He was a deluded fucking man, thinking that he didn't have a choice. Everyone always had a choice. He was just covering for the fact that the choice he made didn't include me. "But I am your father, I will not have you disrespecting me like this." I cruelly laughed in his face. "Charlie, you're not my father. You're not a parent. You're the fucking witless sperm donor Renee duped seventeen years ago." I was about to continue when I heard a smack echo in the car and felt heat spreading across my cheek. The motherfucker hit me! Well, at least he had balls. But the fact that the fucker had even touched me pissed me right the fuck off. I knew that Charlie could really hurt me if he wanted to, but deep down, I knew he wasn't that type of person. Very calmly, I turned to him, giving him my most hateful stare. "Take it easy there, Chief," I warned, my voice icy. "What would the nice townsfolk of Forks think of the local law enforcement abusing his newly-arrived daughter? Don't forget, I'm about to go in for therapy. I would hate to have to tell someone about how horrible my father is to me." "Bella," he said, his voice strong, but still conveying regret. "Bella, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have" Fuck his regret. Fuck his stupid reaction and fuck him. "No! You shouldn't have, Charlie." "You know I wouldn't" Blah, blah, blah. I tuned him out, having heard it all be fore, just not from him. "Let's get this over with, shall we?" I said as I opened the car door, incredibly ready to be away from him. I walked quickly to the front steps and ran up them, banging on the door with my closed fist. Internally, I was in a rage, but there wasn't anything I could do in this situation. Therapy it was. And just like all of the other things I had been forced to do in my life, I would just close my eyes, be a good girl and wait until it was over. The door opened and I couldn't help but mutter, "Jesus fucking Christ." It was the goddamned Pixie Cullen who was in my Photography class. So great, not only was there some kind of therapy going on inside this mansion, but there were kids from my school. "Hi, Bella!" she said, entirely too chipper for my tastes. Her eyes moved to my cheek and instinctively my hand moved over to cover it. Charlie hadn't slapped me that hard. I doubted there was a hand print, probably just a red mark. "Rash," I said quietly. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but my spirits fell even more when I heard voices coming from behind her. Too many fucking voices. So not only was there therapy, but there was therapy with many kids from my school. That was just great. I could feel Charlie coming up behind me, so I pointed inside. "I'm supposed to be in there." Pixie Cullen smiled and nodded, opening up the door wider. "Hello, Chief Swan. Esme and Carlisle are upstairs in the study. They want to talk to you." Pixie snuck her arm through mine and began dragging me further into the house. "I'll keep Bella company."

Charlie moved to the steps as if he knew where he was going and I let my eyes scan the chaotic scene before me. Holy shit. Not only where all of the perfect Cullens and Hales there, there were two kids, a boy and a girl who looked like each other that I recognized from school. There were two boys that looked like they had to be freshmen and then there was Angela, sitting on the couch, her hands folded in her lap. "What the fuck, Bella?" I turned to my left and saw Jacob coming closer to me. Pixie Cullen's grip on me tightened as he approached, but I pulled myself free. "Jacob, watch your language, please." She shot him an annoyed look. I rolled my eyes at Pixie Cullen and moved towards Jacob. "This was your thing?" He shrugged. "Every Friday night, just enough shit to totally fuck up the weekend." He leaned in close, his smile evident on his face and he lowered his voice. "But don't forget about me fucking you in the forest tomorrow. Just keep that in your mind while you're enduring the pain that is group therapy." "Fucking group therapy?" Therapy was one thing. Sharing things, private and embarrassing things with kids from school was entirely another thing. "You could have warned me, Jacob. If I'd known this was what my Friday was going to look like, I would have smoked a bowl before comingor, you know, slit my wrists." Jacob grabbed my arm and pulled me away from Pixie Cullen and the others. "Don't say shit like that here, Bella. That bitch Esme will commit you and you won't be able to do anything about it." "I was joking." "She won't be." I tilted my head to the side. "Do we have time to get high?" I whispered. "No. And how was I supposed to know that you were as fucked up as the rest of us? I had no idea Charlie would drag your ass to something like this. You used to be all sweet and goody-goody." "I stole a car." I watched with amusement as Jacob's face brightened. "No shit? The Cullens all have sweet rides if you ever get the hankering to steal another one," he whispered into my ear as my eyes moved over all of the faces, many of them turned towards us, curious. "Bet we could make a run for Mexico." "So what the fuck is this shit?" I jerked my head back towards the group of kids. "Just what it looks like. The two dumbass doctors have put together this little group to make the parents of Forks feel like their kids won't always be screw ups. First, it's all about the individual counseling with Esme, then we have group, and then we have to pair off with 'one of our peers.'" "Oh! I'll be your peer!" He rolled his eyes. "I already got one." Jabbing a finger to the corner where the boy and girl who looked like each other sat, he shook his head. "I got stuck with Leah. Bitch is whiney as fuck." "So this is what I have to look forward to on Friday nights now?" "Usually you don't have to have a one on one with Esme every week because there are too many of us

and only one of her, but since you're new, you might have to do it every week for a while." Jacob shrugged. I heard footsteps on the stairs and watched as Jacob glanced up. My eyes trailed his and I saw Charlie coming down. Jacob moved away from me and went to mingle with the other Forks Fuck Ups. Folding my arms around my torso, I scowled as Charlie approached me. "Esme's waiting for you. Make the best of it, Bella. I'll be back to pick you up." He was trying to be encouraging but the fact that he had physically hit me only half an hour ago still made my blood boil. "Try not to assault anyone else while you're away." I gave him a sharp look and watched his face fall. Not letting him walk away from me, I brushed past him and moved up the stairs. I had no idea of where to go, so I just walked down the hallway until I found an open door. "Bella." I turned, entering into the room. Dr. Cullen smiled at me and motioned to an over stuffed leather chair. "This is Dr. Esme Hale. You may know her children from school, Jasper and Rosalie." I shrugged. "Well, I need to get back down stairs, but make yourself comfortable. There's water or soda in the refrigerator." He pointed towards the small dorm fridge underneath the elaborate bookcase. "Well, on second thought, with your diabetes, just water." I rolled my eyes. Like I needed reminding that I wasn't supposed to have soda. His saying that only made me crave a Pepsi even more. Great job, Dr. Cullen. Tempt the diabetic car thief. Next why don't you dangle the keys to your BMW in my face. Idiot. He left and my eyes had no where else to settle but onto Dr. Hale. "Hi, Bella." I took a deep breath. "Hello." "Your father told me that it was quite a shock for you to learn that you'd be spending time with me this evening. I'm sorry that you found out like that." I said nothing as I rubbed my hands over my forehead. "So we're just going to talk. I'm a psychiatrist, so I've been to medical school and my job is to look at both the mental and the physical elements to any disorder." "I don't have a disorder." I glared at her. Two seconds with me and she already thought she knew everything. Stupid Dr. Bitch. "This is our first session, so I'll just explain a few things to you first. I'll be taping our sessions to help me analyze the situation." Her hand went to a tiny rectangle and she pushed a button. Then she held up a notebook. "And I'll be taking a few notes. Don't let either of these things intimidate you. After we talk, we'll go downstairs and spend sometime talking in a group setting. I'm sure you noticed everyone downstairs. And after that, we usually end the night in peer to peer sessions. That is a time where you're not supervised with the other child, you're simply being a kid with another kid. It will help the two of you create a bond so that if you ever need anything and don't feel comfortable speaking with me or another adult, you will always have a friend who can help you." "So who am I going to be with?" "Edward Cullen." "Are you fucking serious?" Esme's face tightened as she wrote something down in her stupid notebook. "Dude can barely speak and I'm supposed to have some kind of meaningful, therapeutic relationship with him?" She took a deep breath, licking her lips before locking her eyes on me. "Don't count Edward out, Bella.

He's a very complicated person and his speech impediment doesn't define who he is." "I don't care about his fucking stuttering. He's in my Biology class and we work just fine together, but I don't understand the point of" "Perhaps if you just let down your guard and allow the process to work, you may begin to understand the point of all of this." I sat fuming in silence for a moment, willing myself to just get through this. It was still better than a group home or jail. "Tell me about the car you stole." I looked up at her, shocked at her boldness. "It was blue." I gave her a slight sneer and the bitch just smiled. "Why did you steal it?" Shaking my head, I sighed. This chick wouldn't understand the real reason and if she did, all she'd do was ask more and more pointless questions. "Because it was shiny and fast and I liked it." Dr. Hale smiled at me again. I didn't like it; it was condescending. It was one of those 'I know something you don't know' smile. "What?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. "You may or may not know this, Bella," she said, voice still calm and annoyingly friendly. "But you were very nearly sent to a juvenile detention center. There were conditions of the court set so that you could avoid that. One was living with your father. Another was attending therapy." Of course I knew all that. "For how long?" "Every week until you graduate." I huffed and she cocked her eyebrow. "It's really not that bad. Perhaps you'd care to tour a detention center?" I sighed and rolled my eyes. Dr. Hale flipped open a folder, her eyes scanning the pages within. "What's all that?" Again, the bitch smiled at me. "This is basically your life on paper. Medical records, school counselor notes, transcripts, court summaries." My eyes narrowed as she picked up a paper and studied it. Stupid bitch. "You're a smart girl, Bella. You've always gotten good grades." She paused. "Except in sixth grade. What happened in sixth grade to make you go from all A's to nearly flunking every subject?" My teeth clenched and I closed my eyes. "You were able to pull your grades back up though. "Dr. Cullen shared your x-Rays with me. How does a girl who is clearly not interested in athletics acquire so many injuries?" My heart had begun to race and my breathing had sped up as my eyes fixed on a spot on the wall next to Dr. Hale. "When I look at these disciplinary records, from your old schools, do you know what I see?" I didn't answer. "I see someone who almost intentionally got in trouble. Detentions, Saturday school, all those punishments would take you away from home. But never a suspension. Whatever behavior got you into trouble mysteriously disappeared before the offense was elevated to the level of suspension. What a good way to escape spending time at home." "Shut up," I said quietly, though clenched teeth. "Why did you steal the car?" Slowly, I answered, "Because I liked it." Again she smiled condescendingly at me, letting me know that she saw through me. She leaned in

towards me. "I'm much more perceptive than a high school guidance counselor. Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes. If you're honest with me, I can be honest with you when I say that I can help." I clenched my teeth harder. I didn't need help. Dr. Hale glanced at her watch. "We can be done for this week. It's nearly time for group." "Goody." I stood up and crossed the room. "Bella?" I paused, my hand on the door knob. "Thanks for coming today."

Chapter 4: Dark and Tortured Bella I descended the stairs after finishing with Dr. Bitch Hale and ignored the way everyone looked at me as I entered the large living room. There was a little bit of room next to Angela on the long sofa or there was a spot in between Bronze Cullen and one of the little Freshmen guys. I moved towards the sofa and flopped down. "This fucking blows," I said under my breath. "Just breathe." I looked at Angela but her eyes were fixed ahead. "Let your mind go somewhere else and before you know it, it'll be time to go home." I wanted to ask Angela why she had to be here. She seemed perfectly normal to me. But before I could, Dr. Bitch came in and sat down in front of us. This was the most ridiculous thing I could imagine doing on my first Friday in Forks. I did what Angela suggested and let my mind wander after Esme introduced me to the Forks Fuck Up Club. I thought about getting high a lot. I thought about the shiny, fast, blue car. I thought about fucking Jacob in the morning. Even if Hale wanted me to, I wasn't going to talk, but luckily I didn't have to. Only about half of the kids did, but I didn't listen because I didn't care about their stupid stories. Half an hour into it, I felt my eye lids droop. I wondered if I could get away with sleeping through it all. I was just about to test it when Angela spoke up next to me. Obviously she hadn't been paying attention either, so she had Hale repeat the question. "Oh, um, I'm doing fine. I ate lunch today and had a taco for dinner." Okay, I obviously missed something important. Was this group about what we ate? It wasn't until Dr. Hale asked her about throwing up that I realized that Angela was here because she had a couple of high profile eating disorders. Apparently anorexia was her disorder of choice but she had been opting towards bulimia since everyone now kept track of what she ate. When the doctor asked her about the emotions she had when she admitted to tossing her taco only moments after eating it, Angela took a deep breath and answered, "I was relieved." "And what made you feel relieved?" "The taco was easily 90 to 100 calories by itself and as soon as I get home tonight, my mother's going force me to eat some fatty baked good with her and she won't let me leave until it's been down for an hour. So at least I know that the 100-calorie taco isn't going to combine with the 500 plus calories she's going to force me to eat." Angela was clearly nuts. She was like a size 4 or something, no where near fat. But all the girls in Phoenix had eating disorders too and not one of them was fat before acquiring the starving or puking habit. Perhaps her self image would be heightened if she simply got new glasses or contacts. She was decently pretty, although being in the same room as Barbie Hale would make every girl want to toss their lunch. Once Angela was finished talking, I let my mind wander again until, finally, the whole group sharing experience was over. Everyone got up and instantly found their designated peer and moved off to

various locations throughout the downstairs. I just sat still on the couch. Obviously I was supposed to be paired with Edward but I had no intentions of running over to him and being all buddy-buddy with him. This afternoon in Bio, I had been stoned and I was always friendly and chatty when I was stoned, but this was an entirely different situation. I was being forced to interact with him now and the rebel in me, well, she rebelled against it. It wasn't anything personal against him. From my peripheral vision, I could see him sitting over there, quietly, his hands folded on his lap. It wasn't until Dr. Hale stood up and called his name that he moved. He tensed slightly, his head lifting to look at her. "Edward, why don't you show Bella your house? I'm sure she'd like to see the game room." He nodded and looked at me nervously, standing up and turning slightly towards me. "Bella," Hale said to me. I narrowed my eyes at her, but stood up too. She smiled and then turned and walked away. Sighing deeply, I moved over to Edward. He looked absolutely gorgeous. Pitiful, but gorgeously pitiful. Who would have thought such a hottie like him would have such a hard time talking. Although that couldn't be the only reason he was in the Forks Fuck Up Club with the rest of us. When he didn't speak, I felt horrible for him, so I made the decision not to give him a hard time. It wasn't his fault we were stuck together like this. "So you have room of games, or what?" His mouth opened and closed and then opened again. I could see his tongue pressing against his lower teeth, trying to form a word, but then his mouth snapped closed again. He nodded and then began walking out of the large room and down the hall. Having no other choice but to follow, I walked behind him, my eyes taking in the expensive dcor, wondering what it would be like to live in a house like this. Bronze Cullen stopped in front of a door and nodded his head towards it. I moved around him and peered into the room. Just about everyone from the living room was in there, excluding the Cullens and the Hales. I looked back to Bronze Cullen and asked, "Are you going in?" He shook his head quickly. "T-t-too maaaany p-peeeeople." It was a little packed in there, but Jacob was in there and I wanted to go hang out with him. But this time was supposed to be for your 'partner' or whatever Hale was calling it. I shrugged, taking a deep breath. "So show me the rest of your house." Bronze Cullen gave me a little smile and a nod. When he started walking, I walked with him. He didn't really point out anything and he didn't say anything, but only a complete moron would need the kitchen or the bathroom pointed out to them. It was obvious what those rooms were. As we walked, I wondered if people got lost in here. He took me upstairs. I huffed as we passed the study, the room where Bitch Hale and I had our first little 'chat.' Most of the doors in the hallway were closed and most of them he opened for me, letting me look into each room. It was the strangest home tour I'd ever been on, but this was definitely the strangest Friday night I'd had in a long time. The last one had been six months ago and it involved copious amounts of acid and freaky talking tree people. Bronze Cullen stopped at a door he seemed hesitant to open, so I just waited, feigning disinterest. When he finally opened the door, a concentrated look upon his face, I realized that this must have been his room. I moved closer to the doorway, peering in. His face was incredibly tense. "This your room?" He nodded, but made no sound or gesture to invite me inside, so I decided to be obtuse and just walk through the doorjamb. As I did so, I heard a shaky little breath come from him. The room was very nice. It was large and very clean and organized. The opposite of my tiny little space in Charlie's small house. One entire wall was taken up by a built in bookshelf that he'd filled with books, CDs, even old vinyl albums. Along another wall, the wall I was closest to, there was a door, I assumed his closet, and there were musical instruments hanging up. Three guitars, two violins, and god love him, he had a banjo too.

Below them was the most expensive keyboard I had ever seen sitting on a simple black base next to a desk with a very expensive looking laptop. On the opposite wall there was a black leather couch and nothing else. To my left was a modest looking bed. I found myself idly wondering if that was where the great Jessica Stanley/Bronze Cullen fuck had occurred. His stuttering behind me drew my thoughts back and I turned around and smiled. He looked like he needed an invitation into his own bedroom. I had no idea what it was that he was trying to force from his mouth, so I pointed at the guitars. "Obviously, you're into music." He stepped inside the door, turning to take a cursory glance at his instruments. "Y-y-yes." I moved further into the room, sparing a sideway glimpse at him to ensure he was cool with it. "So do you do any of the music classes at school?" "N-n-no." I was sure he was good enough to make the band or whatever they had at Forks High. It seemed strange that someone who seemed to love music wouldn't get involved in the school's music program. "Why?" After a deep breath, his brows creased, his eyes dropping to examine the gold carpet. "T-t-too m-many p-p-peeeeople." His words halted for a moment before he continued. "Y-you have t-to d-do re-re-rech-have t-to p-play in front of p-peeople." Yes, that would obviously be a problem for Bronze Cullen. "Can I look at your books?" He nodded before perching himself on the edge of the bed, his eyes raised back up to mine. I turned to peruse the selection he of books he had, utterly fascinated that he would have some of these on his shelf. "D-d-do you liiike" I turned and watched as his face grew red trying to get a word out, his cheeks ballooning out. It made me uncomfortable for him. It had to suck having to struggle so hard just to say a simple word. "Books?" He nodded, blowing out a breath and giving me a crooked smile. He should smile more. "Yes. I like books." "D-do you h-have m-m-m..a lot?" "Um, no. Usually I just get them from the library." Renee hated spending money on me. I had yet to see what the high school or the Forks Public Library held. I hoped it was stocked full of good ones, but if not, I saw now that I could just borrow one from Bronze Cullen. "A fan of Seuss?" His eyes moved to where my finger pointed and his face turned red again. "N-n-no. It-it-it's fffor m-my" He was obviously anxious again. "Seuss is cool." I let my hand move over the binding of some of the more academic looking spines. The dude read Russian literature. "Have you read this?" I asked, pulling out Tolstoy's War and Peace. He nodded his head emphatically, like he really enjoyed it. I couldn't help but give him a genuine smile. Most people at school probably figured he was stupid or retarded in some way, but Jesus, the guy read some of the most complex literature out there. I was certain that Mike Newton and that bitch Lauren hadn't even heard of Tolstoy. My hand stopped again and I pulled out a familiar book. "I like Dostoyevski better." Turning back to Bronze Cullen, I moved to sit down on the couch, my fingers idly flipping through the pages of the book. He nodded at me, as if to say that he enjoyed Dostoyevski better than Tolstoy too. "He's much more existential, isn't he?" He smiled. "D-dark and t-tortured." I looked at him then, really looked at him while my fingers ran lightly over a page. His eyes immediately dropped to his lap, watching as his hands clutched each other and released continually. He didn't like being around a lot of people. He was clearly musical and liked to read. He liked to read authors who were dark and tortured. I wondered if he was dark and tortured. Just seeing how he was treated in school would be enough to validate that. "Edward?" His head lifted as his eyes found mine.

"Why do you let Mike Newton treat you like that?" Eyes widening, his mouth opened and his jaw jutted out. His breathing had sped up, causing his chest to rise and fall rapidly. He looked like he was going to get sick as he tried to form words. "Isabella!" I turned towards the open door and stood up. "That's Charlie. I guess it's time to go home." I returned the book to the shelf and moved to the door. "I like your room. See you Monday." Very quickly, I found myself back downstairs and rolled my eyes as I saw Charlie talking to Jacob. "And you're staying out of trouble?" "Yes, sir." I couldn't help but smile behind Charlie's back, earning a slightly pointed look from Jacob. "Charlie? You ready or are you here for therapy too?" I moved out the door and down the steps. I waited in the cruiser until Charlie joined me. "You survived, huh?" I folded my arms over my chest and stared out the window. I might have had to live with him, but I didn't have to talk to him. "Look, Bella, I'm sorry about before. I'm..I'm not used to beinga parent. I'm a cop. When someone steps out of line, you shove 'em back into line. I didn't mean to hit you." "Whatever, Charlie. Can we just go now?" I had barricaded myself in my room for the rest of the night while Charlie sat down in his recliner watching some sports game and drinking beer after beer. Around midnight I snuck downstairs for something to eat and found him passed out. I simply rolled my eyes. How clich. The police chief was the town drunk. Very funny. Morning came quickly and I found myself waiting for Charlie to leave. Finally at a quarter to eight, he stumbled out to his car and took off. I wasted no time getting ready. Showering, brushing teeth, dressing, checking my blood sugar, eating and packing a few things to eat just in case. By the time Jacob arrived I was bored out of my mind. "It's about time," I said as I slipped into the passenger seat. "Not my fault. Billy had to have some kind of heart-to-heart talk with me this morning." "About what?" Jacob smiled widely at me. "He knows you and I aredoing whatever it is that we're doing." "And?" He licked his lips. "I'm not to get you pregnant and under no circumstances am I to sell you drugs." I laughed. "Well, I agree about the pregnant part, but I think the last part needs to be amended. How about we go with under no circumstances are you to sell me drugs and get caught?" "I like it." It only took a few minutes to drive to the woods he wanted to hike in. I had no idea why we had to drive to hike in the woods when there was an entire forest steps from my house, but it really didn't matter because I was with Jacob and being with Jacob held the promise of certain things that I really, really wanted right now. We had only been walking a few minutes before Jacob asked, "So what did you think of the thing last night?" "What the Forks Friday Night Fuck Up Club?" I rolled my eyes. "It was super awesome." "How was your alone time with Esme?"

"Who?" I pretended I didn't understand. "Oh, you mean Dr. Bitch." "Guess that sums it up, doesn't it?" He looked around for a moment and then copped a squat next to a tree. I mirrored his actions and watched as he pulled out his little sack of green and plucked a paper from the pack. "Just a word of advice. You have to talk to her. You don't have to be truthful but if you try to just keep quiet, she really goes in for the kill and then she's all about doggin' you out during group. The more you tell her, lies or not, the less likely she'll out you in front of everyone." I sighed heavily, but felt marginally better when he passed the joint to me. "The whole thing's fucking stupid." "Yeah, but you have to do it." I quirked an eyebrow and tried to keep the hit in for as long as I possibly could. "So why are you there?" I exhaled slowly. "Charlie," he practically growled. "He and Billy made some deal to keep me out of juvie. I would have had to go to Olympia or some place. Charlie knows how dependent Billy is on me. Jesus, what the fuck would the old man do if I wasn't there to wash his clothes or cook him dinner? I could just imagine Billy laying on the floor after one of his benders and not being able to pick his sorry ass up." So Billy was a drinker too. Perhaps he and Charlie's fishing trips were really just covers for their weekend keg parties. I stifled a giggle. "Yeah, I'm kind of noticing that Charlie's a little prick with a big gun, huh?" Jacob said nothing, so we sat in silence finishing the joint. It wasn't until he had sprawled out on the dirty, mossy ground that Jacob asked, "So how was your time with Cullen?" His voice was light, as if he thought it was funny that my partner was Bronze Cullen. "He's alright." Jacob snickered. "What?" I watched as Jacob's eyes opened and he rolled them at me. Despite my numbing high, my body tensed in preparation of negative words against Bronze Cullen. I actually kind of liked him. He was unassuming and it was obvious that the cards he'd been dealt sucked beyond the telling. "It's just thatNevermind." "What?" "He's fucking weird, Bella." "So are you, but I still hang out with your dirty ass." "My ass is not dirty. Edward's all socially stupid and shit. I mean, the kid never talks and when he does, it's all da-da-da and ma-ma-ma and I-I-I-I c-c-c-c-can't taaaaaalk l-l-l-like a n-n-n-n-normal human being." "Wow. I didn't know you were such a prick, Jake." He sat up and shot me a dirty look. "I'm not being a prick; I'm simply stating the facts." "Maybe he has a hard time talking because he knows fuckheads like you judge him for something he can't help. And who cares about any of that? He's still a person, dickhead. He has a mind and soul and deserves to be treated like a human instead of some" Jacob laughed. "Oh my god! Bella, you're in love with the retarded Cullen kid, aren't you?" I rolled my eyes and clenched my teeth. Of course I wasn't in love with him but it pissed me off that Jacob would call him retarded just because he stuttered. "Fuck you, Jake." I stood up, but his hand captured my wrist and roughly yanked me back down. Just as I hit the ground, Jacob ensnared me within his arms, pulling me towards him and pressing me against him. I found myself straddling him, his hold on me unrelenting. "Don't be mad, Bella. Feel free to make fun of me about having to spend time with Leah. Now if you want to get to know a true Forks Fuck Up, spend some time with Leah. She can't even kill herself properly. Like she didn't know that in order to bleed

out quickly, you had to hit an artery." He rolled his eyes again, but spoke no more. "Don't be mean, Jake." "Don't be bossy, Bells." His mouth moved to my neck. "Don't I owe you a good forest fucking?"

Chapter 5: Lab Rat Edward She had been in my room. She touched my books and we had what could have been considered an actual conversation. Especially for me. I had been proud of myself for not being a complete freak about it but then she just looked at me. And much to my horror, she asked me why I let Newton treat me so bad. As if I had a choice. I agonized over that question for the rest of the night. After everyone had left, Esme, just thought it would be a good time for us to have our official session. We were in Carlisle's study like every Friday night. It was incredibly unfair that every Friday I had to have a session with her when everyone else only had to sit down with her every other week or so. "So Bella's definitely nice, isn't she?" Of course she would want to talk about Bella. I nodded. "I noticed that you two didn't stay downstairs." I shook my head. Very observant. I supposed she got those keen observation skills from her many years in college. "Did you show her your bedroom?" My eyes narrowed. "Th-th-the door wwwas o-open th-the entire t-t-time." She smiled at me. "Yes, I'm not really worried about that. It's your house; you and your brother and sister are allowed to have guests in your rooms. I am just amazed that you allowed her to be in there. From what Carlisle tells me, you don't allow people in your room." "S-sh-she likes b-b-books." "That's wonderful. Did you have a good conversation with her?" I blatantly rolled my eyes at her and motioned with one hand to my mouth and throat. Obviously I didn't have a good conversation with her with my inability to actually talk normally. "Edward," Esme's voice was soft and held that motherly tone again. "There will come a point in your life when you cannot blame your speech impediment for everything." Usually, my emotions were held very squarely in check. I held them there quite tightly to avoid blowing up and subsequently sounding like a moron when I couldn't manage to have a proper tirade. But how the hell could this woman sit here across from me and tell me that I couldn't blame my stuttering for not being able to communicate effectively? She had no idea what it is like to have a million thoughts I wanted to share with everyone but couldn't because of some physiological or mental glitch. My hands balled into fists and I pressed them into my thighs. How the hell could she think that I wouldn't want to have a normal conversation with a pretty girl my age? How could she imply that I didn't try? She knew I sat up every night reading stupid Dr. Seuss books aloud, trying to harness my voice and get rid of my impediment. Why the hell did she have to keep pulling and tugging at me so damn much? Emmett was probably humping her stupid golden child Rosalie right now and Jasper was probably in the midst of doing something far more reproachable to Alice than I could even think about and yet here she was telling me that I use my

stuttering as a crutch to avoid people. "I-I-I d-d-d-doooon't b-b-bl-bl-blame" I couldn't manage to get the rest of my words out. They were blocked. She cocked her stupid head to the side and she looked at me like I was four years old. "Edward, I'm sorry if what I said upset you. That wasn't my intention. I know and understand that your stuttering is something that is not your fault and that you cannot control. However, please understand that I also know your history and I know that with or without your stuttering, you would still avoid building relationships with people." I kept my hands clenched as I gritted my teeth. I would not be talking about all of this again tonight. Wasn't it enough that I had let Bella into my room? Wasn't it enough that I at least tried to talk with her? "Remember how long it took you to form a bond with Emmett? With Carlisle, even?" "Th-theeeey're dif-different. Wa-wa-with Alice, I" "Yes. I understand the differences between Emmett and Carlisle and Alice. But even though you've finally accepted them as family, you still don't allow any of them into your room and you certainly don't let them touch your things. And even with my children, who have been in your life nearly as long as Carlisle and Emmett, you still keep them at a distance." I was feeling defiant, so I shrugged my shoulders and narrowed my eyes. "M-m-maybe I just dddon't l-l-like them." Much to my dismay, Esme smiled at me. "You're a terrible liar. I know you like them, but you refuse to allow yourself to grow any closer to them because you have a fear that everyone you love will either leave you or hurt you." "Th-that's n-not t-t-t-t," I stopped and sighed. "If it's not true, Edward, let's talk about your mother." "N-no!" "What about your father? Do you want to talk about him?" My whole body felt like it was so tight it would snap at any moment and I would break. I tried to keep the emotions down now, but the tears burned my eyes. I refused to let them fall though. I shook my head. "So you don't want to talk about your mom and you don't want to talk about your father. Should we talk about Joseph?" My chest tightened and my lungs seized. "D-d-don't," I begged, unable to keep my tears back now. I didn't understand why she was being so cruel. Instinctively, my legs drew up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. I couldn't breathe. My heart felt like it was going to thump right out of my chest. "P-p-please, don't." "I know this is difficult, Edward. I can see that it causes you an extreme amount of stress and anxiety, but we cannot let this rule your life. You keep so much of yourself hidden inside that it can only fester and break you." I started to feel light headed and my body began to tingle. I was only vaguely aware of Esme moving to me, putting one hand on my arm and the other on my forehead. "You need to relax, Edward. No one is going to hurt you here." At some point, Carlisle came into the room, which never really helped anything. Panic attacks always seemed to be better when men weren't around, but I felt something sharp jab into my arm and slowly began to realize as my body relaxed on its own, that he had given me a sedative. Finally I was able to

breathe, the tears draining from my eyes. There was no way for me to measure the time it took from the onset to when I was finally able to stand up by myself, but I had a feeling that it had been a good chunk of time. Licking my lips, I moved to the door. "I-I'm goooing to sssleeeep now." My legs shook and I wobbled. Carlisle offered me assistance, holding out his arm to steady me, but instead I held one of my hands out against the wall and waited until my jelly legs solidified. Very, very slowly, I moved out into the hallway, too sedated to care much that Emmett, Rosalie, Alice and Jasper were out there too. I slid my hand along the wall as a guide, keeping my eyes on the floor as I walked to my room. Once inside, I locked the door and grabbed my iPod. Flopping down onto my bed, I put the ear buds in and found my Classical playlist. My eyes closed and I concentrated on breathing. In and out. In and out. But as I lay there, my body nearly helplessly sedated, my mind moved back to Bella's question. The answer was inextricably linked to what had just happened in Carlisle's study. I was unbelievably thankful when sleep finally overtook me, rescuing me from my wandering mind. Soft knocks woke me on Saturday. My head hurt and my body felt heavy as I rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door. Alice waited on the other side, giving me a small smile. "It's noon and Carlisle said you need to eat something." "I-I'm not h-hungry." I sounded tired even to myself. Alice nodded. "I told him you'd say that. But you have to come out sometime. He's going to leave for the hospital soon, so make an appearance, eat something, and then you'll be free to lie around until Monday morning. If you don't he'll just call Esme." I sighed, closing the door behind me and watched as her smile faltered and she reached up to run a hand through my hair. "It'll be okay, Edward." That was what she said all the time. But she knew just as I did that it wouldn't be okay because 'okay' wasn't something that people like us ever got to be. Reluctantly, I went downstairs and had lunch with my family. But not before Carlisle did his doctor thing. There were times when it was really useful to have a doctor in the house. Like the time Alice "accidentally" cut herself while attempting to recreate a Bobby Flay dish, or when Emmett dislocated his shoulder playing football with his jock friends in the back yard, or when I was sick with the flu. But today, it was annoying to have to sit on the stool next to the island counter in the kitchen, being watched by Alice and Emmett, as Carlisle took my temperature, checked my ears, eyes, and reflexes. While he checked my blood pressure, he asked all of the normal doctor questions like, how I had slept, how I did I feel, was anything bothering me. As usual, I kept my answers short. When he was finished, he held my face between his hands and looked directly into my eyes. He wasn't checking for anything because he'd already done that. He was searching for something, as if looking into my eyes would hand him the secrets of deconstructing Edward. After a long moment, it became really uncomfortable, so I shook my head, averting my eyes from his and moving my hands to his wrists and pulling them away. Nothing like being a lab rat first thing in the morning. Or afternoon, rather. I ate my sandwich and listened as Carlisle and Emmett had a discussion about whatever sport Emmett was starring in at the moment. I thought it was basketball, but with Emmett, I could never keep track. He had practice this afternoon and then was taking Rosalie shopping. I could tell by the barely

concealed squeal from Alice that she desperately wanted to be included in the shopping trip. It was moderately amusing to see Emmett casually ignore Alice's bouncing body and her pleading eyes. It wasn't until Carlisle stood up, glancing at his watch, that Emmett finally asked Alice if she'd like to go to Port Angeles with them. It was not surprising that Alice let out the squeal of delight she'd been containing and clapped her hands together like a three year old being offered ice cream. After Carlisle gave her the speech about the importance of thrift and knowing the limit of the credit card, all eyes turned towards me. "Please go with us," Alice begged. I just shook my head, my eyes squarely on Carlisle, hoping he wouldn't make me. I could see the dilemma working itself out inside his brain. If he made me go, I would most likely have another attack and having had one on Monday and then another one last night, it seemed like too much stress for my body to go through. But then again, I imagined that Carlisle would be concerned with me being alone. Just thinking about that made me upset. I'd been with Carlisle for five years and I had never done anything to harm myself or others or his property. I didn't deserve the careful consideration he had to give each time when thinking about letting me have a moment's peace alone in my own house. "Perhaps I can call Esme," he muttered, his eyes flicking to me quickly. I scowled at him, not wanting to speak but wanting him desperately to know that this was my weekend and I didn't want another impromptu session with Dr. Hale. "Alright, Edward," he said with a sigh. "But you keep the phone in your room, right next to you. If you need anything, you page me. I'll call you every now and then." He turned to Emmett. "How long do you expect to be gone?" Emmett looked at me, giving me one of his signature pitied looks, and then back at Carlisle. "Maybe eight or nine? He'll be fine, Dad." He turned to Alice. "Be ready by four. Rose can't stand to be kept waiting." Rolling her eyes, Alice sighed. "As if we all didn't know that." Finally, Carlisle and Emmett left. I rinsed my plate and put it in the dishwasher, marginally happier that I would now have at least three or four hours to myself. I could play the Grand Piano if I wanted. I could even sing if I wanted to. Not that I did, but Ms. Rice had told me once that people who stutter could usually sing without impediment. Well, at least most of them. Not that singing interested me all that much, but it might be interesting to hear my voice be smooth for once. "Want to watch TV?" I turned to find Alice behind me. Crinkling my nose, I shook my head. "Please? Don't spend the rest of the weekend in your room. If you're not going shopping with us, then at least spend a little time with me." I sighed and she smiled, knowing that of everyone, she was the one person I couldn't say no to when she started pouting. "Yay! We can listen to music instead." So I found myself lying on the floor with Alice, no lights on as the sounds of Alice's favorite New Age musician filled the room. It was raining out, as usual, so without lights, the living room was dim enough to be comfortable and relaxing. Typically, I found some of the music a little 'out there' but this CD was nice, soothing. It was nice to lie on the floor and stare up at the ceiling and not feel pressure to think about any one thing in particular. "Edward," Alice broke the silence, her voice very soft and soothing like the music. I rolled my head towards her and she did the same. "What happened last night?" I sighed, moving to look back at the ceiling. Alice wasn't really being nosey just to be nosey, she was just a curious person. And I couldn't fault her for it either. She and I had known each other since we

were eleven and even though it'd only been six years, she was the closest thing I had to actual family. From the moment I met her at our foster parents' house, she was my best friend and she had only unconditional love to give me. If there was anyone in the world I could talk to, it was Alice. "S-she asked a-a-bout mmmy p-parents and J-J-J-Joseph." I heard Alice's angry growl and saw her roll onto her side towards me. She ran her hand through my hair and almost instantly, I closed my eyes, bracing for the tears. I didn't want to cry, but Alice had a way of making me feel like it was safe to do so. "Want me to kick Esme's ass for you?" The edges of my mouth curled up. "I d-d-don't t-t-think Jas-Jasper would liiike you b-beeeating up his m-mom." She giggled. "I don't know, Edward, he might help me. You should hear some of the questions she asks him. Just imagine having to live with her. One minute you're happily chewing away at your toast and the next minute she's asking you how you feel when your girlfriend goes down on you." My eyes widened and I nearly choked on air. Alice was able to do that. She was able to talk about something completely serious but manage to bring something completely inappropriate and outrageous into it. "I-I-I dddon't want to kn-kn-know about that, Aliiiice." She laughed again, her fingers continuing to run through my hair. "Duh. That's why I don't talk to you about it, dork." Alice was quiet for a moment longer before asking, "So did you tell her anything?" I shook my head. I had been too busy freaking out and failing to get adequate air into my lungs. "S-she already kn-knows. Sh-she haaaas th-the files." "Yeah, but Esme likes it when she can get you to have a breakthrough or whatever." "Y-y-you t-t-t-tell hhhher things?" I turned my head to look at her. Alice shrugged. "It's easier that way. And it's different for me, Edward. I'm with her son. I have to give her some reason to be okay with me being with Jasper. People don't want their children to date people with dissociative disorders and people who cut themselves from time to time. So I play the game she wants me to play and give her just enough to let her know that she's helping me, but more importantly, that Jasper's helping me." "Sh-she asks a-a-about your p-p-past?" "Yeah, but I can't help her with that so much, you know? If I can't remember it, I can't talk about it. So she does these things where we talk about random things, like shopping or whatever, and when I zone out, she asks me questions." I narrowed my eyes at her and she shrugged again. "I guess I talk because when I come back she's got pages of notes and we talk about it next time." "D-do you liiiike th-that?" I asked it because I knew that I wouldn't like having someone talk to me when I was basically not there mentally. She shook her head. "There are some things that are meant to stay in the past. I don't need to know about them." Her hand stopped its movement in my hair and she lay down on her back again. "One of my old therapists said once that old wounds are the hardest to heal and the scars they leave are the most painful." Sighing, Alice let her eyes slipped closed. "So I'm not really rushing to remember my old wounds." Alice and I lay on the plush carpet for another hour, not really speaking, more just enjoying each other's quiet company, but then she had to get ready for shopping. I sat down at the Grand Piano and

played for nearly two hours, nodding to Alice as she moved through the front door, her little legs carrying her as fast as she could go. Emmett's constant honking distracted me, causing me to shift from what was one of my most soothing compositions to something rather aggressive and violent. The phone rang. It was Carlisle checking up on me. I hated talking on the phone. My stuttering never seemed to improve, even though I wasn't face to face with anyone. It took me nearly three minutes to spit out that I was fine. Carlisle reminded me to keep the cordless next to me at all times and I wondered what he thought could happen to me in a few short hours. It didn't take me long to migrate back up to where I was most comfortable. My room. I had been strumming my guitar, mindlessly letting my fingers do their thing while I mentally checked out. It was pleasant, listening to the music I was producing without really thinking about anything. This was why I liked music. I could associate everything or nothing with it, all depending on my mood. I had been at it for a while before any coherent thought passed through my mind and when it did, I was surprised that it was about Bella Swan. I wondered what she was doing with her weekend and why it was that Esme and Carlisle seemed to think her past and mine were similar. I hoped she didn't have a past like mine. And it really didn't seem so. She didn't seem to have any problems engaging people socially and seemed to exude confidence with everything she did or said. The only negative things I could think about her related to her association with Jacob Black and her obvious use of the 'product' he sold. And the only reason why I thought any of that was negative was because of my mother. Otherwise, Jacob was a decent guy. Of course, I couldn't deny that I still would have preferred that she didn't hang out with him, but I couldn't very well expect her to spend time with me when she didn't have to. I mean, I left a lot to be desired. But if I was normal, I could speak with her like everyone else. We could discuss books like she seemed to want to and I could What a waste. I thought I had killed that part of me that dreamt of being different but every once in a while, it popped back up and my face was shoved back into reality once more. Of course part of me wished that Bella and I could be like Emmett and Rosalie or Jasper and Alice, but Bella liked boys who could talk and converse and who were more normal than I was. Setting down my guitar, I lay back on my bed and let myself wish again that I was someone else. It was unfair that not only did God or the Universe or Random Forces deemed fit to give me what was a natural inability to speak, but also gave me one of the worst childhoods anyone could ever come up with. I was happy to have Carlisle take me in, that was for sure, but there was no erasing the past. Alice's old therapist had been right. Old wounds are hard to heal and what's left behind hurts like hell. It wasn't like I didn't want to heal, because I did. I knew that I would stutter with or without the emotional baggage that came along with a childhood like mine, but it might've helped if I didn't have all of the things nagging inside my head about what happened to me as a kid. I could live with the stutter if I could give back the past, and I couldn't help but think that if I didn't have the stutter, I could deal with the past better. My stutter kept me from people. I knew most of the students at school thought that I was mentally challenged as opposed to just verbally challenged. My verbal challenge brought forth my social challenge and they interpreted that as a mental thing. On the few occasions I'd been able to do something close to socializing with someone outside of my family, it hadn't lasted long and I could see that the other person was doing it more as a bet with their friends than to really get to know me. But that's why Esme and Carlisle's expectations of me concerning Bella had me worried. Why would she want to get to know me? What was her motivation? Why would anyone want to put that much

work into getting to know someone like me? I mean, I actually felt bad for people who had to sit in front of me and patiently wait for my mouth to catch up with my mind. I fell asleep before anyone came home, but was woken up by Emmett banging on the door. I responded with "Wh-wh-what?" "Nothing," he said through the door, and then "No, Dad, he was just sleeping. He's fine." Obviously Carlisle called him to ensure I was okay. I seriously didn't understand what he had thought was going to happen.

Chapter 6: Down Edward I had spent Sunday in my room, only emerging to eat. Carlisle tried to engage me in conversation, but I just wasn't up for it. I shrugged, nodded, and shook my head in answer to all of his questions. And this morning, just like every weekday morning, I awoke to Emmett pounding on the bathroom door. Remembering his trick of wiggling the door knob, which had upset me, I got out of bed and flung open my door. "Morning, Sunshine," Emmett beamed at me, to which I just rolled my eyes. The car ride was no different than any other day. To be completely honest, I had really wanted to stay home, but that would never happen. The highlight of my morning, however, was passing Bella in the hall, this time without having some kind of incident with Newton. And she smiled at me. It was just a second or two, but it was a real smile. The only bad thing was that I hadn't had time to smile back at her. For the remainder of the morning, I wondered how her weekend had gone and what she had done. But by the end of lunch, when I saw her leaving the cafeteria just moments after Jacob Black, I realize that her weekend had probably included him. And that disturbed me. And then I felt ridiculous for being disturbed that Bella had most like hung out with her friend. I didn't own her. She wasn't mine. She wasn't going to me mine and she wasn't even my friend. She was being forced to spend time with me. But that didn't stop me from wishing she was my friend. So when Biology rolled around, I was feeling incredibly down. She was late again, giving an obviously fake apologetic glance at Mr. Banner before slipping into her seat next to me. For whatever reason, my mood had turned a tad hostile. I wasn't really upset with her; I was more upset with my inadequacies as a human being. She turned at me and shot me a small smile. "Hey." I sighed and gave her a nod, thinking that attempting a verbal greeting would either sound stupid or angry or not come out all. She leaned a little closer, taking a peek at the notes I had begun writing and that annoyed me. It wasn't fair for her to use me for my note taking ability simply because she was too busy doing whatever it was she did with Jacob Black to make it to class on time. "Did I miss much?" My jaw clenched. "N-n-no," was all I managed to get out, but then I grudgingly slid my notebook closer to her so that she could copy what I had written, because, honestly, it wasn't her fault I was so incredibly socially defunct and undesirable. I tried to pay attention to what Banner was saying, but I had no notebook to write anything down in as Bella copied from mine, so there was little point in it all. After a few minutes, she slid the notebook back to me. I readjusted it and prepared to start taking more notes from the lecture when I looked down. She'd written "Thanks!" in the margin and drew a little smiley face. Turning my head to look out the window, I wondered if Jacob Black got smiley faces. She didn't seem like the smiley face kind of girl.

The rest of the class went by in a blur. All I did was stare out of the window, thinking random thoughts of a normal life. I wondered if people like Mike Newton or Jessica Stanley or Tyler Crowley, or even Eric Yorkie even realized how appealing their lives were. I was sure they thought they were boring or at least ordinary, but I wondered if they even had a clue as to how much people like me coveted their ordinary, boring life. I would have to snap out of this mood soon. Carlisle would notice and then he would make me talk to Esme before Friday, probably even tomorrow. And tomorrow was another session with Ms. Rice. I might implode if I had to have sessions with both Ms. Rice and Esme. The bell rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I looked down at my notebook with the smiley face and realized that I hadn't taken any more notes. I would have to get them from Alice tonight. I slammed the cover closed and shoved it into my bag, along with the text book. "You okay today?" Turning to my right, I found Bella looking at me, her mouth twisted up and her eyebrows knitted together as if she were trying to figure out a puzzle. She was incredibly pretty. Too pretty. Too pretty for me to look at, too pretty for me to talk to, too pretty for me to even be able to imagine her wanting to know me. "F-f-fine." "Fine? Fine, like, you're fine or fine like, you're agreeing to tell me if you're okay today or fine like" I sighed as I stood up, swinging my bag up onto my shoulder. "I-I-I'm f-ffffine, B-B-B-Bel- At that point, Mike Newton had noticed that I hadn't left the room yet and was still talking with Bella, so of course, he moved over and shoved me from across the table and said, "Bel-la. It's not that fucking difficult, you 'tard." He had shoved me into the table behind me, forcing me to sit down on the top of it. The table had squeaked and the feet had scrapped against the linoleum loudly, which only drew more attention to the scene. My thigh had hit the edge of the table and while I hadn't thought Newton had shoved me that hard, I could feel the heat of the impact on my leg. "Why do you have to be such a dick?" For a quick moment, I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth. What a perfect situation. Yet again, Bella was defending me, so not only was I not a normal person, I was also an emasculated, non-normal person. Opening my eyes, I stood up straight, pulling my bag back up my shoulder and tried to slip out behind Bella. "For Christ's sake, Bella, while I think it's incredibly sexy the way you have pity on the less fortunate, he can't even say your fucking name." "So then logically, it's the best course of action to physically assault him, is it?" I had extracted myself from behind Bella, but as I moved to walk away, leaving them to continue their argument, I felt small fingers encircle my wrist. Immediately my eyes moved down to where Bella had a hold of me. It felt like it burned worse than where my leg had hit the table. "He's a person." "Not much of one, Bella." I pulled my arm free of her hold, just barely able to look at her face. She was flush and for the moment she glared at Newton, she looked deadly, but as soon as she turned to me, her face softened and she got the same look of pity that I'd seen thousands of times before. "S-st-st-stop." Newton laughed as I hurriedly left the classroom. "Yeah, B-B-Bella, just s-s-s-st-st-stop!" Ms. Peters saw my face and didn't make me do anything for my final period of the day. I just sat in her tiny little office, sinking further and further down into the old armchair in the corner. The final bell rang and I continued to sit there for a few minutes more. Emmett would make us wait like usual and I didn't look forward to waiting in the jeep with Alice. She would try to talk to me and I was in no mood for talking. Most of the students were gone by the time I walked through the parking lot. My whole body tensed even more when my eyes settled on the Jeep. Alice sat on the bumper with Jasper standing between her legs while Emmett was sprawled out atop Rosalie on the hood of her red convertible. There were times when I didn't mind their very public displays of affection and then there were times like now

that I wished that I could just burn my eyes out to avoid having to witness it. But as I moved closer, I realized that I would have to burst my ear drums too as they were not the quietest bunch. None of them even realized I was there until I opened the door to the Jeep, slid into the back seat and then slammed the door loudly. It was another five minutes of 'oh' and 'uh' and 'damn baby' before Emmett and Alice extracted themselves from the Hales and decided it was time to leave. I sat perfectly still, my eyes fixed on the clock in the dash board as they hopped in, both rubbing their mouths and straightening their clothing out. It was disgusting. "Hey, Edward," Alice said happily, but I didn't respond or even react as if I had heard her. I was upset and angry. I knew they didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of it all but I had no other outlet. I didn't want to talk to them and they couldn't make me. "What's up, bro?" I continued to stare at the clock as the last number changed and wondered how long it would take my two genius siblings to figure out that I wasn't talking. "What happened today?" For a moment, my eyes flicked to Alice but I recovered quickly, moving them back to the clock. I hated how transparent I seemed to be. "Edward, don't be an ass." I didn't respond, so Emmett had no choice but to start the Jeep and drive us home. I didn't even know why I rode with them everyday. I had my own car and unlike Alice, I had decent driving record. Tuesday was worse than Monday. Bella smiled at me in the hall again, but today Newton had made it a point to be waiting for me. Another signature shoulder shove. Typically they didn't hurt all that much, but this time his shoulder didn't just connect with my side, it connected with my ribs. So I spent most of the day pretending that it didn't hurt and trying to convince myself of that fact. At lunch, Emmett had asked me about what happened. Obviously one of his stupid friends ran right to him and told him about it. Even though I didn't confirm what happened, he spent the next fifteen minutes coming up with plans to make Newton bleed without getting himself expelled. He said all of this in front of Jasper and Rosalie. I knew that everyone else considered them some what of extended family, but I still didn't need to see the pity in their eyes as their thoughts turned to how utterly useless and loser like I was. I allowed myself a quick glance up at Bella's table and followed her eyes over to Jacob Black's table. He would be getting up soon and she would be following him again. I didn't want to see it, so I left the cafeteria early, not bothering to look behind me when Alice called my name. I spent the remainder of lunch in Mr. Banner's empty classroom collating a handout packet for him. Bella didn't even bother coming to class today. Ms. Rice was as determined as ever, even after I told her that I'd rather not practice today. I had my whole silent thing going and hadn't spoken in about twenty four hours and it worked for me. But she would have none of that, so it was all 'No sir, I would not like them here or there, I would not like them anywhere.' But as that simple sentence left my mouth, it sounded like Dr. Seuss on a carnival ride. Four year old kids everywhere could say that sentence just fine, but it stuck in my mouth, instantly reminding me and shoving it in my face that I couldn't speak; I couldn't be normal; I couldn't do anything right. And as I shifted in my chair, my ribs hurt. Wednesday proceeded much in the same fashion as Tuesday, except that I didn't look up from the tiled floor to see if Bella smiled at me in the hall today and I walked faster than normal, trying to out run Newton. But Newton was persistent, so I couldn't really avoid him. This time it was the 'send Edward's books and bag flying and laugh' game. It was just as humiliating, yet I didn't have to acquire

another bruise for it. Emmett had been around the corner and came up, stalking Newton and making me feel even less like man than I had when I woke up. I skipped lunch and spent the hour in Mr. Banner's class room again, my head pillowed on my arms as I stared out the window. Bella was on time today. Before she could say anything, I pushed yesterday's notes towards her and turned away to stare out of the window again. When the bell rang, I grabbed my note book back and flew out of the classroom, anxious not to be harassed by Newton again because I was speaking to Bella. Wednesday night, Carlisle again tried to engage me in conversation and after failing, he gave a few pointed looks at Alice and Emmett. They disappeared upstairs and within a half an hour, Esme was at our house, looking at me like I was a lab rat again. Instead of making me go upstairs into Carlisle's study to have 'session,' Esme spoke to me downstairs, with Carlisle still in the room. "So how are you, Edward?" I shrugged. "Not talking again, I see. I thought we had pushed through all that." No, she had pushed through all that. I had merely been in the room when she had this little break through she was calling mine. I didn't want to talk. I didn't have to and I wouldn't. After a sideways glance at Carlisle, Esme smiled at me. "You have your entire family worried." I sighed, not knowing how I was supposed to respond to that. Of course I knew they were worried and as much as I cared for each of them, I couldn't care that they were worried. I was allowed to have my feelings, wasn't I? I wasn't supposed to put on the act of the good son, was I? That was Emmett's role. "Would you like to play the piano, Edward?" I shook my head. "Son, please." My eyes closed at Carlisle's soft plea. I wished that I could be like Emmett for him. I wished he could truly help me the way he wanted to. I wished that I could be close to him and I wished that I was normal for him. It was heart breaking enough to know that I would never be able to truly be comfortable around him simply because of his role, his gender, the authority that radiated from him, but it tore at me that I couldn't even engage him in simple conversation. I adored that he helped people for a living and I admired him for having gone to through school for so long to do what he loved and I would have enjoyed being able to ask him questions and tell him things. But I couldn't. I scratched idly at Carlisle's expensive dining room table, keeping my head down I was suddenly very tired and although I heard their voices, nothing really registered in my brain. My hands moved up to hold my head, the skin on my forehead stretching as gravity tried to pull it towards the table. I breathed deeply, trying to calm and center myself. "I-I w-w-would liiiiike t-t-t-o go, go t-t-to bed now." As Ms. Rice would say, at least I finished strong. On Thursday morning, I was fully prepared to stay in bed and ignore Emmett's booming voice, but again he pulled the trick where he jiggled the door knob, which instantly caused my body to produce an excessive amount of fear induced adrenaline. I wasn't surprised when Emmett silently accompanied me to my locker before first period and then walked me to class. He was protective like that, even if it meant making me feel like a bigger tool for letting him play my personal bodyguard for the day. I hadn't slept much the night before, so I didn't have much fight left in me. It seemed like a better option to have Emmett hawk me than to be shoved into the row of lockers again. "Bella," he whispered. I looked up at him, wondering why he would say her name, but he just nodded in front of him. "I'll see you at lunch." He left and I looked at where he nodded and there stood Bella, standing outside of my first period class, her eyes directly fixed upon me. I felt trapped. I didn't think I could walk into class without acknowledging her and I didn't necessarily want to, but I was still feeling irrational resentment towards her. What if I accidentally spewed that resentment onto her and she saw how truly vile I was? But then I remembered my inability to speak like a normal person.

She moved towards me and my feet stopped. "Hi." I nodded to her. "H-hi." Taking a deep breath, she cocked her head to the side as she looked up at me. "So there's this foreign film festival in Olympia this weekend," she shook her head, "well, all next week too, but this Saturday is Russian movies and they're going to play Prisoner of the Mountains, which is based on Tolstoy's Prisoner of the Caucasus and also Anna Karenina from like the early 1900's and I know it's not all dark and tortured but I wanted to know if you wanted to go." My eyes had widened as my brain attempted to process the information she had just given me. I was still stuck on Russian movies before I noticed her looking around nervously. My eyes narrowed as I studied her. Maybe she didn't want to be seen with me. Maybe I was supposed to answer quickly. I was pretty sure she was asking me to go to Olympia with her on Saturday and for a moment, my heart quickened as I thought about spending time with her. She wasn't even being forced into doing it. And she asked me. I opened my mouth to answer, but the block formed and I closed it again. My fists clenched at my sides and I hoped that Newton wasn't around to watch this because if he was, there'd be hell to pay for my inability to get out a simple 'yes.' I opened my mouth again, meaning to say yes, but all that came out was something that sounded like "da-da-da, na-na." They weren't even close to the sounds of the three simple letters I needed. I knew that I looked like an idiot, my face twitching as I tried to force the word. Her hand moved to my forearm and I stopped trying to speak and simply looked at her. "Edward," she said with a smile, "just shake your head for no or nod for yes." Did she think I was an idiot? I wasn't mad that she said what she said, I was truly just concerned that she finally started listening to Newton and thought I was supposed to be in Special Ed. But I pushed all of the negative thoughts from my mind and nodded, frantically. And then finally, my mouth responded, and I was able to mutter, "Y-y-yeessss." Her smile seemed to grow bigger and I felt my heart pound in my chest. "Good. I hope you have a car, because I don't, but I can totally chip in for gas money." I shook my head and wanted to tell her that she didn't have to because I would be more than happy to drive her anywhere she wanted to go. And again, I was thankful for my mouth not complying. I would have sounded like an ass. "You don't have a car?" I shook my head again. "N-n-no, I-I-I ddddo. I-I-I just d-d-d-don't neeeeed g-g-gas money." She smiled again and gave me a little nod. Bella started to move past me, having to get to her own first period class and all, but then stopped. When she turned back to me, her forehead was creased and she was chewing on her bottom lip. "Not that I think you think otherwise, but I just want you to know that this isn't, like, a date or anything. I don't" Her voice trailed off as she shook her head, her bottom lip sucked in again and her hands tucking her hair behind her ears. "I don't really date and I don't do the whole girlfriend thing, so don'tI mean, like I said, not that you are, but don't expect likeromantic anything. Just two people who like Russian novels watching Russian movies, okay?" I nodded and I couldn't help but smile a little. She gave me a parting nod before turning and walking away. No date. Got that and I was fine with it because the pressure of a date would have been crushing. And there was no way that I could expect her to want something romantic from someone like me. Just two people who like Russian things. I could handle that. She didn't ask Newton to go to Olympia with her. My smile grew. The day flew by and I was surprisingly happy for once. It seemed that my inability to be a normal human hadn't stopped Bella from wanting to watch Russian movies with me. Even at lunch, when Bella got up and followed Jacob Black out of the cafeteria, my mood stayed positive because she hadn't invited Jacob to go watch Russian movies with her either. She'd asked me.

And when she arrived twenty minutes late to Biology, I put my notebook in the middle of the desk and took notes on another sheet of paper. She, Bella Swan, the talk of the high school, had asked me, Edward Cullen, the outcast of the high school, to go to Olympia with her on Saturday to watch movies made in Russia with her. Even my inadequacies with reading children's books with Ms. Rice didn't spoil my good mood. Of course, Alice and Emmett were extremely interested in what Bella had wanted this morning and since I gave them no information at lunch time, they were waiting to accost me on the ride home. Emmett had practice, so he wanted information as quickly as possible so that he could return to the school. It wasn't like I was purposefully keeping the fact that she had asked me to go with her on Saturday to myself, but it just seemed easier to not stutter and stammer my way through it more than once. Although I had said yes to Bella, I still needed to get Carlisle to say it was okay, which meant asking him tonight when he got home. Emmett and Alice would be there then. After Emmett dropped us off, Alice kept up her annoying questioning, even standing outside of my bedroom door, trying to coax me to answer. I sat down at my keyboard, plugged the head phones in and blocked her out. It was easy for me to get lost in music. Before I knew it, Carlisle and Emmett were home and it was time for dinner. Before I could even taste the enchiladas Carlisle had brought home for dinner, Alice bounced in her chair. "Bella wanted something from Edward this morning in the hall and Edward won't tell us what it is. Make him." I rolled my eyes at her while shoving in a small bite of the food. Emmett looked highly amused as his eyes danced around the table, taking in me, Alice, and Carlisle in turn. I looked at Carlisle and while his expression was curious, he turned to Alice. "Perhaps it's not our business to know. Edward doesn't ask you about what you and Jasper speak about, does he?" Alice bounced again, all nervous energy and nosiness. "But Bella's not Jasper and Edward's not me. Edward barely talks to anyone and now" I sighed, not having wanted this conversation to have been dictated by anyone else. I retrained my eyes on Carlisle and set down my fork. The moment I opened my mouth to speak, it was clearly apparent that pushing out words wasn't going to happen easily. I thought about music and heard the composition I had been working in play in my head. When I looked back up, I saw that Carlisle was patiently waiting, Alice was still practically bouncing, and Emmett still looked more amused than he should have. "S-sh-she w-w-wants tttto go ttto a f-f-f-fo-fo-foa couple of m-m-movies w-with mme on Sssaturday." I was relieved to finally have it out and did my best to ignore Alice's childlike clapping and Emmett's not so subtle grin. "That's great. Which movie?" This was going to be the part Carlisle didn't like so much. I already knew that he would think we were going to Port Angeles to watch a regular movie, but now I had to tell him where Bella wanted to go. "T-th-there's a f-f-film f-f-fest" Carlisle's eyes widened and he set down his fork, giving me the look I hated. "The foreign film festival in Olympia?" I swallowed hard at the sound of his voice. Nodding, I tried to stay positive, even though fear was clutching me tightly at this point. He looked at me in silence for a moment longer before twining his hands together in front of him. "No. Absolutely not." I was about ready to protest when Alice's noise of indignation sounded loudly from beside me. "That's not fair, Carlisle. Why can't he go?" He turned his cool eyes over to Alice. "It's over three hours away, Alice. It would be an all day trip and" "Dad, Edward's a safe driver and he never gets in trouble, like ever, and it seems a little unfair to tell him that he can't go simply because it's three hours away. We live in the Olympic Pennisula, Dad, nothing's close."

Carlisle sighed and rubbed his temples. "What if he has an anxiety attack? He'll be three hours away from anyone who can help." He paused, thinking. "Perhaps you can go with him, Emmett." I felt my jaw drop at the suggestion that I needed a chaperone. Emmett laughed. "I can't cramp his style like that, old man. Don't you remember what it was like to be seventeen and on a date?" "I-i-it's n-n-n-not addddate." Carlisle turned his focus back to me. "I -I-I w-w-won't p-p-p-p," the word panic stuck in my throat and I realized with all my stammering, I would never be convincing. I tried again anyway, "P-p-panic." Taking in a few deep breathed, I locked my eyes with him, hoping that he could see that this was important to me. I never asked for much of anything and I never caused trouble. "P-p-p-please?" He was silent and he let out an elongated sigh. As soon as he opened his mouth, I knew I had him. Excitement filled every part of my body and I almost bounced like Alice. "You will have your cell phone on you at all times. You will let Bella know that my number is on speed dial. You will tell her about your attacks and indicate that should you need her to, she is to call 911 and then call me, understood?" I nodded. "And you will call in every hour to let me know that you're okay." I felt my brow furrow. "B-b-but we'll b-b-be wwwwwatching a m-movie." "Fine. Every two hours." Carlisle picked up his fork and pointed at my dinner. "Now eat." "Look, he's smiling! Dad, when was the last time you saw him smile?"

Chapter 7: Take Two Bella My weekend had been filled with Jacob and boredom. Sex in the woods was fucking fantastic on Saturday. Sunday was boring though; Charlie never left the house. I had to come up with an excuse for going outside just to smoke a little pot. The week started out just fine, class, lunch, smoking pot with Jakeand other things. But Bronze Cullen was acting strange. Not that I really knew what strange was for him, having known him all of a couple days or whatever. So I'd asked him what was wrong and Prick Newton shoved him, laughed at him and generally treated him like dirt. And perhaps it wasn't really my place to stand up to Mike like that for him, but I couldn't help it. Tuesday and Wednesday were the same. Bronze Cullen seemeddepressed. Of course, it could have stemmed from the full-on body check Newton gave him on Tuesday. I was a ways away, so I couldn't see it completely, but it looked like it hurt. And I'm well-versed in hurt. I felt bad skipping Biology on Tuesday, but Jacob and I had really gone at it and there was no way I could go to class looking the way I did. Wednesday Bronze Cullen let me copy his notes, but he wouldn't look at me. It was Wednesday night when I found the advertisement about the foreign film festival. I really wanted to go, but I couldn't very well walk to Olympia. Jake would never want to go to something like that, and all he'd do was feel me up, down and all around during the movie anyway, so I decided I'd ask Bronze Cullen. Even though we'd been forced to be together last Friday, I hadn't had a bad time and he hadn't seemed to either. On Saturday they would be playing Russian films and with all of those Russian novels he had read, I figured he'd go. I had thought for a moment that he'd say no. Hell, as he walked closer with Big Cullen next to him, I had thought that I wouldn't even be able to ask. But he said yes and so Thursday night at dinner, I told

Charlie I was going. Of course, my sperm donor of a father was actually a little pissed that I didn't ask him, but I didn't care. He didn't own me and if he said that I couldn't go, I'd steal his fucking car and go anyway. He asked who I planned to go with and I told him about going with Bronze Cullen; of course, I called him Edward for Charlie's sake. After dinner, Charlie made a phone call while I cleaned up. By the time the dishes were washed, rinsed, dried and put away, he was leaning against the counter, his hands crossed over his chest. He was actually a little close to me; closer than I was comfortable with, so I hung up the towel and moved a foot or two back. "So this Edward kid's record is clean." I gaped at him. He had actually called the station and got one of his minions to run a police report on him. "Charlie. Seriously?" "He had a parking ticket last year but paid it in full the next day." Rolling my eyes, I shrugged, letting my arms cross over my chest, mimicking his stance. "So does that mean I can go?" "Yes. But I'm warning you, Bella, if you betray my trust in you, you'll have an awfully hard time earning it back." I managed not to smirk at him. He was warning me about breaking trust? How fatherly. "Fine." School was fine on Friday. I smiled at Bronze Cullen in the hall and he actually smiled back. As far as I knew, Newton didn't fuck with him. Probably because Big Cullen was stalking his little brother's every move. I was suddenly very happy that I had no siblings. Photography was actually fun for the first time. The teacher let us pair up and we got to outside and start snapping away. Pixie Cullen grabbed my arm and told me that I was going to be her partner. She was kind of a cool chick, a little on the weird side, but cool enough for me not to hate her instantly. She talked a lot, but not like Jessica Stanley. She wasn't automatically telling me of her conquests, or what or who so and so did last Friday night. Mostly she talked about things she liked, asking me what I liked in turn. We decided to take pictures of the woods, which suited me just fine because I could get high a little earlier than planned. Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for my one hitter. Although I could tell that Pixie didn't like me getting high, she didn't say anything either. She just milled around, taking random pictures of bugs and leaves and rotting foliage. Two deep-ass hits were all I needed. It was still early and I was still toasty from the wake and bake with Jake this morning. When I was finished and we were tromping through the woods, Pixie asked me about Phoenix and how I liked Forks. She asked me if I liked to shop, to which I replied, "Do I look like I enjoy shopping? Pixie Cullen, an obviously avid shopper, just laughed. I liked her. "So Pix...um, Alice, what's up with your dad and that Dr. Hale chick?" A wry smile formed on her face. "Do-gooders with no social life beyond each other." Raising my eyebrows, I took a quick shot of a mushroom growing from the side of a tree. "So are they like, you know, knocking boots?" Again, Pixie laughed. "Wow, that was so totally 1990's, Bella." She twirled around for whatever reason and then continued, "But if by 'knocking boots' you mean having steamy sex, I think so. I mean, I have no idea how steamy it is, but I would imagine that there's more to their relationship. She's always at our house." "How can you stand it?" "Obviously you're not a fan of Esme?" I shrugged in reply. "It does suck to have a psychiatrist hanging out all the time, but usually Jasper comes with her, so I'm okay with it. Edward's the one with that gets stuck with Esme's bull. When Carlisle's not there and Rose and Jasper are, he gets stuck hanging with her, which basically means extra super fun sessions for him." I bit my lower lip for a moment. "So what's his deal anyway? I mean, beyond the stuttering thing."

Pixie stopped walking and regarded me carefully, her eyes narrowing. She made me uncomfortable and I was about to tell her to forget it, but then she spoke. "Edward's got anxiety issues." "He doesn't like people?" She took a deep breath and then began walking again. "People don't like Edward, at least that's what he thinks." I thought he was okay. I mean, I realized that high school kids might not be mature enough to get over a slight communication problem, but it seemed strange that 'people' in general would have an aversion to him. "Why would he think that?" Pixie didn't answer, she just quickly aimed her fancy ass camera at me and snapped a picture before I could bat it away. "So are you coming tonight?" "I didn't think I had a choice." I looked at her as she looked at the incredibly expensive watch on her wrist. "We should head back." The walk was silent until we hit the edge of the woods, the school clearly in sight now. "So what do you think of Edward?" I didn't know how to answer. It was an odd question. I didn't know if I had an actual opinion about him yet. "He's alright." "You guys are going to Olympia tomorrow, right?" Obviously he'd told his family, which wasokay, I supposed. He probably had to ask permission or something. "Yeah." "That'll be awesome. Edward rarely ever does anything fun. He lives too much in his head. Way too intellectual." I watched as Pixie twirled around some more just for the hell of it. "Plus he, like, never leaves the house. I have to drag him and when I do manage to get him to go somewhere other than school," she sighed. "Well, it's not pretty." I didn't know why but my conversation about Bronze Cullen with Pixie haunted me after Photography. I had no clue as to why I should be interested in any of it. But it was interesting getting the sister point of view on him. Still, she must have realized why he lived in his head. No one seemed to care enough or have enough patience to have an actual conversation with him and those who did were probably pushed away by him, simply because he didn't like having to stumble around so much, verbally anyway. But maybe there was more to it. Nothing extraordinary happened the rest of the day. Lunch, getting high, Bio, P.E. Woohoo, bring on the Forks Friday Night Fuck Up Club. I had called Charlie and told him I had gotten a ride to the Fuck Up Club, but refused tell him from whom. Obviously, since we were going to the same place anyway, Jacob drove me to the Cullens, but not before stopping at a random spot in the woods to get blown out before hand. We didn't have enough time for an all-out bend over the tree stump so we placated ourselves with a hand job and a finger fuck. Dusted and sexed, we walked into the mansion together, ready to get the shit over with. Unfortunately, the moment I stepped through the door, I had to go upstairs to see Dr. Bitch Hale. She sat there staring at me for a long time and I felt like I was in a bad movie. Didn't we do this little dance last week? I had no idea why shrinks actually just sat there staring at their patients, as if to wear them down. I had no intentions of giving in first. I could sit here all night, entertaining myself with my thoughts. Obviously, she thought I needed more interpersonal interaction than I actually did. She broke first and my first instinct was to smile, but what came out of her mouth after that had me pissed beyond the telling. "So, Bella, are you sexually active?" What the motherfuck? Was that her business? I mean, really? I didn't even have that conversation

with my mother, not that Renee would care or anything, but Jesus H. Christ. So I opened my mouth and asked the first thing that came to my mind. "Do you suck Dr. Cullen's cock?" The bitch in me cheered as she blushed, all wide eyed and shocked. "I'm the psychiatrist, Bella. I'll ask the questions, but if you'd prefer I call your father and explain to him how much you'd rather see the inside of a Juvenile Detention Center, I can live with that too." I folded my arms over my chest, scowling at her. "What does it matter if I'm having sex?" "Are you?" Fine. Play the fucking game. Right. "Yes." "When did you become sexually active?" It took everything I had not to throw something at her. My hands fisted together. I was supposed to trust this bitch? "What do you want to know, specifically? The first time I fucked, the first time I gave head, or the first time my legs were spread and I was finger banged?" I watched as she managed to keep her cool. "Any." "Consensually?" Ha. I had her there. Bitch's eyebrows were nearly disappearing in her hair, her mouth forming a little 'o' before returning to her normal welcoming frown. "The first time I had a sexual experience was when I was eleven, but the first time I chose to have a sexual experience was when I was fourteen." My teeth clenched for a moment as I glared at her. "Do you need details for your sick little notebook there?" Dr. Bitch had stopped her nearly constant scratching of the pen against the yellow legal pad. "Is that something you'd like to talk about?" "No." "Who was it that" "I said I didn't want to talk about." I sunk lower in my chair. "Can we talk about your mother?" "No." She sighed and I felt a small bit of satisfaction at denying her any more insight into the mind of Bella. It served her right and I was sure it would nag at her. "Okay, so how is school going?" "It's going how school usually goes." "Is there a reason you're so confrontational?" "I don't like you." She wrote something on her stupid little note pad. "I don't like that you feel you have the fucking right to know things about people. I don't like how you assume that I'm fucked up. I don't like how you just made me sit here for a half an hour for no reason. I don't like your face. I can't fucking stand your voice. And I'd rather be anywhere but here right now." And then the bitch smiled at me. I wanted to kick her teeth out. "Well, it is almost time for group, Bella, so we'll call our session over for the week. But I would like you to think about what it is that has you so angry. I bear the brunt of most people's anger, but very seldom is it about me." She leaned towards me, her hands clasping together as her elbows rested on her thighs. "Everything you say in here, stays with me, unless you're going to hurt yourself or others." Dr. Bitch paused. She licked her lips and her eyes softened. "The bad things that happen in children's lives are not their fault. I'm not here to punish you, Bella. I'm here to help." Standing up, I couldn't help but shake my head at her. "I'm not fucking seven. Stop talking to me like I'm a fucking child. It's super awesome that you and Cullen have put together this little Fuck Up Club, but you don't have anything I want and you can't help me with shit." "Bella."

"You think because you have a degree or whatever that automatically you're suited to help me with shit you have no fucking clue about?" I turned to move towards the door, but then stopped and turned back around. "Don't fucking ask me about my sex life again. Go watch some internet porn or get spanked by the good doctor, but don't think I'm going to give you any information about what I do and who I do it with." I stomped downstairs and ignored everybody. Even when Jacob came to stand next to me, I didn't even turn to look at him. "For fuck's sake, Bells, what the hell happened? You're radiating hate." I didn't say anything to him. I just gave him a pointed look instead. It was great that he was an excellent sex partner and could give me the mad hook up and all, but I wasn't about to get all touchy feely with my emotions with Jake. Leaving him standing there, I moved across the room and sat down on the couch. Instinctively, my legs came up to my chest and I wrapped my arms around them. Stupid bitch. Was I sexually active? What the motherfuck? She was fucking twisted and for whatever reason I was now mixed up in her twisted shit. Why did it make a difference if I have sex or when I have sex if I'm here because I stole a stupid car? And I didn't steal it. I was going to give it back. I just needed it for My thoughts were interrupted as Angela sat down next to me. Looking around, everyone was grabbing a seat. Pixie Cullen threw me a little wave, but I was too pissed to acknowledge it. And then Bitch Hale came in and it took all of my effort to remain seated. I caught her eyes on me more than once and I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from having what was sure to be considered an "emotional outburst." But I didn't pay attention. Jacob's partner, Leah, spoke for a little bit, her voice sounding just as angry as I felt, and then her little brother spoke. I had no idea what it was that they were dribbling on about. I was so fucking furious that I would be subjected to this every Friday night until I graduated. Suddenly, a detention center didn't sound so bad. At least there they wouldn't care when my first sexual experience happened. Stupid Bitch Hale. And stupid me. Fucking saying shit to her. I shouldn't have said a damn thing. Stupid, stupid, fucked up Bella. And now the fucking thoughts were there, stuck in my head again. I doubted that I would be able to sleep tonight, barricade on my door or not. Stupid fucking Renee and her stupid fucking lifestyle. Stupid fucking Charlie, letting his stupid fucking wife take me away. I had no real way of qualifying if my life would be different had Renee left me here when she took off, but it was the biggest what if in my life and I had nothing else to dwell on sometimes. When I was a kid and hurting from one of Renee's fly-off-the handle reactions to something stupid, or when one of her boyfriends decided to look at me a little too closely, I would dream about my life with Charlie. I could have grown up the stupid little Police Chief's daughter in this godforsaken town. I could have been overly protected. Charlie could have brandished a shot gun every time a boy came around in Junior High. He could have threatened me with military school if I misbehaved or got a shitty grade. But that fantasy always faded fast in the harsh light of the reality. And now, at seventeen years old, I was stuck with what the past gave me; with what other people, my parents, had decided for me. And now I was stuck with the Fuck Up Club, desperately trying not to listen to their shit because I had enough of my own. "Bella?" I tore my eyes off of the carpet and looked up at Bitch Hale. "What?" My voice was hard and I wanted her to hear every ounce of hate I felt for her and her stupid fucking games. "I just asked if there was anything you'd like to share tonight." I licked my lips and pasted the nastiest smile I could onto them, cocking my head to the side. "Yes. I want to share how stupid I think this whole thing is. Likewise, I would love to know what it is that you think is going to come out of sticking a bunch of high school kids together every Friday night to talk about shit that doesn't need to be talked about. Do you honestly think that this is fucking meaningful in any way to me?"

Oh, how I wanted to punch the shit out of her when she gave me that smile again. "Thank you for sharing your thoughts. Next week you and I can go over our goals again and perhaps that would make it easier to understand what the point of all of this is. I would ask before you share thoughts with the group in the future, that you think of your peers and their feelings." I rolled my eyes, but Bitch Hale and turned her head to look at the others. "So now we can pair off."

Chapter 8: Art and Music Bella After Bitch Hale told us to pair off, I wasted no time, jumping off the couch and finding Bronze Cullen sitting on a love seat next to Pixie Cullen and Blond Boy Hale. His eyes seemed to widen as I stomped towards him. Ignoring everyone else in the room, I reached down and grabbed his wrist, pulling him up with all of the strength I had and dragging him across the large room. I didn't stop until I was up the steps and outside of his bedroom. Looking at him expectantly, I dropped his wrist. His eyes moved from me to the door and then back to me. He really couldn't be confused, could he? Obviously, I wanted to go into his room. Obviously, I was not happy with being here tonight and wanted a little bit of time away from the prying eyes of Bitch Hale. I sighed and let my lips settle into a line. Finally, he opened the door and I moved inside of his room quickly. Immediately I went to the leather couch and let myself flop down on it. I had no idea of how long I laid there in silence and I had no idea what Bronze Cullen was doing. I was trying just to push past the lingering thoughts and memories in my mind, when Bronze Cullen spoke. "D-d-d-do yooou w-w-wa-waaant to llllisten to m-m-music?" I sat up and looked at him. Just like last week, he sat carefully on the edge of his bed, looking like he had just run laps at the gym. He looked incredibly uncomfortable and suddenly I was struck by the feeling that I had to do something to help him. It seemed fairly evident that I was the one making him uncomfortable, so I took in a deep breath and nodded. "Sure. Music is fine." In all honesty, music would be a good distraction from what was going on in my head. "W-wh-what d-d-do you l-l-like?" For whatever reason, the question made me smile and even better than that, it made me laugh just a little. I shook my head, stood up and moved to the bookcase. "Whatever you want to listen to is fine. I don't really listen to music all that much." As I trailed my hands over the spines of his books, I heard his very expensive stereo click on and a CD change. Pulling a large book from the shelf, I smiled to myself as some kind of Classical music filled the room. I should have known that Bronze Cullen was cultured enough to listen to Classical music by choice, instead of only when someone made him like most kids our age. I sat back down on the couch with the book on my lap and looked up at him. He seemed a little more laid back as he sat on the bed, eyeing the book. "Classical?" He smiled. He really should do that more. "It-it-it's relaaaxing." He swallowed as his eyes moved from mine down to the book and then back up. "D-do you l-l-liiike ar-art?" I shrugged. "Don't know. I was never good at art time in kindergarten, but I like Photography." I

glanced at the book and then opened it up. It was a compilation of famous pieces throughout history. Some of them I recognized, some of them I didn't. Looking back up at Bronze Cullen, I asked, "Do you like art?" "I'mI'm n-not g-g-good at it, b-b-but I l-l-like llllooking at it." "Which ones do you like?" "I-in th-thaat book?" I shrugged, then held out the book for him. He moved closer to take it. I had wondered if he would. Even though we sat less than a foot from each other in Biology, it seemed like at all other times, he kept his distance from me if he could. I watched as he flipped through the book quickly and then held it back to me. Flaming June by Lord Frederic Leighton. It was painted back in 1895. "You like this one?" He nodded. "It's very pretty." It was of a lady in a chair or something, sleeping. She had on this vibrant orange dress. I wondered why he liked it. I mean, it was pretty, but I had no clue why he would pick it out from the thousands of pictures in the book. "What else?" I held the book back to him. After flipping again, he smiled at me. This one he must have really liked if he smiled at it. "Th-this one." A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte by Georges Seurat. It looked stiff and formal and like something my dead Gramma Marie would've liked. I quirked an eyebrow at him. His smiled held. "It-it's in Ch-Chi-Chicago. I t-t-took a fffield trip to s-s-see it w-when I was little." Interesting. That was quite possibly the longest sentence I'd heard from Bronze Cullen. And it was about a piece of boring art. So not only did he read difficult literature, Russian no less, he also liked music and art that most people our age wouldn't even care about. "Are you from Chicago?" The smiled faded, but he nodded in answer. So he was from the Midwest. It was amazing that they made Greek Gods in Middle America. I knew he was adopted by Dr. Cullen, so obviously he moved here with him, but I wondered what circumstances led him to the adoption. Had he been an orphan from birth? Did his mother drop him on Dr. Cullen's doorstep as an infant? Was there a scandal? It was totally not my fucking business and I had just gotten done telling Bitch Hale that I didn't care about any of the other kids' stories, but with Bronze Cullen, I found myself interested in how he came to be the person before me. He was absolutely gorgeous and should have been the most popular guy in our grade, but instead, he got picked on by a miniature poodle named Mike fucking Newton. How the hell does that happen? "Where are your real parents?" Jesus, he looked like I punched him in the gut. Okay, obviously it wasn't my business and he didn't really want it to be my business, so I did my best to remove the tortured look on his face. "Do you like Dr. Cullen?" He shrugged while nodding his head at the same time. I supposed that meant, kinda, sorta. "I hate Dr. Hale," I offered. The smile returned. "S-sh-she's hard to liiiike." He rolled his eyes. "Sh-she's an-annoying." I laughed as I began to flip through the book again. "No, sand in your bathing suit is annoying. The neighbor's yipping dog is annoying. Bitch Hale isshe's evil." "Sh-she's just d-doing her j-job." I rolled my eyes at him now. "I didn't hire her." Closing the book, I set it down next to me. "Is she over here all the time?"

"A lot." "That sucks for you." Bronze Cullen's smile widened just for a moment and he nodded. "So, your sister Alice is in my Photography class." He nodded. "She's pretty cool." He nodded again. "Can I ask you why she's involved in all this?" I motioned around the room, hoping to convey that 'all this' meant the Forks Friday Night Fuck Up Club. Bronze Cullen seemed to think for a moment. I had no idea if he'd tell me, as it was clearly not my business. But after a few moments, he opened his mouth, his eyes catching with mine. "Aliiice's m-mind w-works d-different th-th-than m-m-most people's." He stopped, running a hand through his messy hair. "Sh-she's fr-from Ch-Chicago too." "Did you know her before you both were adopted by Cullen?" He nodded and smiled. It was more of a tight lipped smiled than the crooked smile he'd given me before. "I-I-I w-w-wouldn't g-g-go wwwithout her." I wanted more information in spite of myself, but wondered how long it would take to get it. It wasn't like Bronze Cullen could just tell me quickly what the deal was. I hated that I felt like I didn't have the patience to sit around a listen to him fumble for words. I felt just as bad as Jake or Mike Newton. I didn't want to be frustrated. It wasn't fair to him. "So Dr. Cullen adopted both you and Alice at the same time? Were you both at the same I mean, he found you both at the same place?" I felt stupid. How the hell was I supposed to know how the whole adoption thing worked? He looked away. "Y-yeah, we-we were with the s-s-saaame f-f-foster fa-fa-family." The songs that were filling the room had changed several times, but this particular one, I decided I didn't like. "What's this?" I nodded to the stereo. "The song." "Pa-Pa-Pachelbel's Canon." "I don't like it." "N-n-no?" "No, it's sad." "R-really? I-I've n-never thought it w-w-was ssssad." I shrugged. I supposed music was open to interpretation. "It reminds me of my mother." "A-and ttthhat's n-not a good th-thing?" I shook my head and watched as he grabbed the remote, hitting a button and then turning back to me. "This is De-Debussy. Cl-Cl-Cl" his words trailed off and he shook his head, his face conveying his frustration. "T-t-tell me if yyyyou d-d-don't li-li-like it." I gave him a smile. "No, no this is fine. It's pretty." Glancing at his wall of music, I asked, "Do you only listen to Classical?" Bronze Cullen shook his head emphatically. "N-no, b-bu-but my sp-speech," at this point he started to use his hands, motioning to his mouth and throat, "therapist" He sighed after finally getting the word out and took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "It h-helps me relax." "So what else do you have up there?"

He looked at his music collection and then moved to his bedside table. Tossing me something, he said, "Look." I caught the object and realized it was an iPod. I had never had one, which I didn't mind, as I never had much use for it. I must have been looking at it weird because Bronze Cullen said, "P-push tttthe bottom bu-button." I did as instructed and it lit up, showing me various pictures and words. "N-now sc-scroll." I messed around with it for a while before rolling my eyes and looking back up at him. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a country fan." He looked at me like he had no idea what I was talking about. "Johnny Cash?" Again, he shook his head, this time one side of his mouth curving up. "C-Cash isn't c-c-country, B-B-Bella. C-Cash transcends genre." "Oh, I see." "Y-you've not l-listened to much Johnny Cash?" "Nary a song." "Y-you've never h-heard Ring of F-Fire? Never h-heard A Boy N-Named SSSue?" I smiled as I heard how much the idea of my Johnny Cash ignorance offended him. "Sorry. You'll have to educate me in the car tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know where I live?" He nodded. Perhaps everyone knew where the Police Chief lived. It was probably a popular place to TP or egg on Halloween. "So the first movie starts at ten tomorrow." "It-it's three hours t-to drive." "So you picking me up at like six thirty?" "I-if th-that's what you waaant." He looked like there was something bothering him, although he normally looked like that. I went back flipping through the art book until he said, "B-Bella." Looking back up, I could tell that something was really bothering him, like more than usual. "C-C-Carlisle ssssaid I h-have to tell y-you ab-about m-m-my at-at-at" He stopped, looking even more frustrated. It was painful to watch, but I tried to keep my face neutral as I waited patiently. I didn't know if me looking at him in the eyes helped or hindered his speaking process. "I-I sometimes," he started again, "I h-have p-p-p-panic at-at-at-at" his eyes closed as he tried to say the word. I had no idea if I should or not, but I went ahead and finished for him. "Attacks?" His eyes opened and he swallowed hard while nodding. "If-if it ha-happens to-to-tomorrow, y-y-you sh-sh-should c-c-call" I had thought that the music was supposed to help his stuttering, but perhaps it was the subject matter that was making it worse. I waved my hand dismissively at him. If I stuttered or had anxiety attacks, I wouldn't want anyone to dwell too much on it. "Yeah, I'll call the EMTs or whatever and call Cullen. But you're not going to have an attack of any kind tomorrow." He narrowed his eyes at me. "You'll be with me. I'm super non-threatening and if anything makes you anxious, I'll punch it for you." That earned me a little crooked smile. "You sure you don't want any money for gas?" He shook his head. Standing up, I replaced the art book on the shelf and glanced at his alarm clock. "It's time to go. Charlie will be here to pick me up soon." I crossed the room and looked over my shoulder before leaving. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I went downstairs and found Jacob sitting on the couch, next to Leah. I plopped down beside them, not caring if I'd interrupted them. "What's up?" "Waiting to be released from hell." Jake scowled. "Don't you have your own car? Can't you just leave?" He nodded to the large clock on the wall. "There's five minutes left, Bella. God knows I don't need Billy and Charlie getting a call about how I failed to stay the entire fucking time." He turned completely to me now, ignoring that Leah was even on the other side of him. "So do you want to do something tomorrow?" "I'm going to Olympia." "Really?" He seemed overly interested. I nodded. "It'd be a good trip for smoking out. If you want, Billy and Charlie are going fishing again and I" "Yeah, actually, I'm going with Edward to see a couple foreign films and I don't think he smokes." It was strange the way his face fell. "With Edward Cullen?" "Do you know any other Edwards?" "It's going to take the entire trip for him to even tell you good morning." I sighed. "I don't like it when you're a prick, Jake. Stop it. We can do something on Sunday, okay?" Jacob held up his hands. "Oh no, I'm not down for Edward's sloppy seconds." I punched him in the shoulder and finally his smile was back. "Ouch, jackass, it was just a joke. No need to get violent. I've got a book by the Dalai Lama that might help you with your violent tendencies." "Shut the fuck up, dick. Do you want to do something on Sunday or not?" "What will you tell the Chief? He won't want you going out with me." "It's not going to be a date, Jake. I'll just tell him that I'm going out to explore the great town of Forks." "Do you like the beach?" I shrugged. I neither liked nor disliked the beach. He leaned in close, his voice dropping low in my ear. "There's this cave at the bottom of one of the cliffs that I'm just dying to fuck you in." Although I smiled, I said, "Dirty boy." Turning my head to his ear now, I whispered, "You could always drop by later tonight and climb the tree to my window. Tell me it wouldn't be a rush to fuck the police chief's daughter in her own room when he's sleeping a few feet down the hall." "Bella, your dad's here!" I looked up at Pixie Cullen and smiled before looking back down at Jacob. I figured I'd be seeing him later tonight. I'd have to remember ro leave my window open. Typically, I made sure everything was locked up tight. "Bye, Jake." Charlie was waiting in the driver's seat of the cruiser. He gave me a tentative smile when I slid in. "How'd it go, kiddo?"

"Like therapy, Charlie." "Do you think sometime you might be able to call me 'dad' again?" Had I ever called him dad? I kept looking forward, refusing to look at him. I didn't want to see any Daddy puppy eyes from him. I wasn't required by any legal agreement to call him dad. "I've seen you for a total of maybe five hundred days in the past fifteen years, Charlie." "You know if I could have changed things, Bells, I would have. If I would have known what was going on in Phoenix" I turned my head to glare at him. Obviously he was still working through the conversation Dr. Cullen had with him after my physical. "What? What would you have done, Charlie? And if you wanted me so bad, you could'veyou could've fucking fought for me." "There was no judge in the U.S. that would have given you to me when you were a baby, Bella. A single father raising a daughter on a policeman's salary? They would've said that my line of work was too dangerous and would have taken me away from you too much too" "But you didn't try, did you? Did you have any idea what type of person Renee" I was getting tired and my heart was pounding. It was hot in the car, so I rolled down the window, hoping the air would stop the mental fuzz in my brain. "Fuck," I whispered as I remembered. "What? Bella?" Reaching down, I fumbled with my bag until I found my glucose meter. "Calm down, Charlie, I just forgot to check my blood sugar and I didn't eat dinner." "Bella! It's nearly nine thirty!" Thank you, Mr. Clock. Even though my haze I rolled my eyes. Quickly, I pricked my finger with the lancet and got a decent sized drop of blood onto the strip. My head was hurting now and the five seconds it took for the meter to analyze the blood seemed incredibly long. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. It was 50. Pretty damn low. At this point, I realized that Charlie had pulled the car over. "Could you get into the front pouch of my bag and get me one of those sugar packets?" They weren't as convenient as the diabetic glucose tabs, but they were more efficient and tasted better. Plus Renee never seemed to want to buy the tabs for me. I could steal the sugar packets off of any restaurant table. Charlie placed a packet in my hand and I ripped it open, wasting no time and pouring the sugar into my mouth. "What can I do, Bella?" "Shhh." I wasn't trying to be rude at the moment, but I just needed him to leave me alone. "One more?" He handed me another one and I poured it into my mouth, starting to feel just a little bit better. It was another few minutes before I started to feel normal. "We can go home now." The car didn't start again, so I looked at Charlie. He pointed out of the window. Oh. We were home. Slowly, I opened the door and got out of the car, holding onto my book bag, still a little shaky. Charlie was around the car and grasped my elbow with his hand. Although it was a gentle offer

of help, I flinched away, yanking my arm away from him. "I'm fine. I just need dinner." He was silent until we were inside. He watched me as I started grabbing things to fix myself something to eat. "What?" "What exactly just happened, Bella?" "I told you, my blood sugar dropped too low and so I got it back up." "What happens when it gets too low?" I wanted to tell him to be a father and do the fucking research to find out, but my energy level was still low. My hands still shook slightly. "My brain sucks up all of my energy and starts shutting down some non-essential functions. Because I have to inject insulin, I then have too much in my blood stream and not enough sugar, hence the sugar packets. They dissolve in my mouth and go directly into the blood stream, counter acting the insulin." Shit, I should be a doctor. "What happens when you don't get sugar?" I shrugged, trying to spread the Mayo on the bread. "I go into shock and possibly a coma." "Jesus." After I ate, I felt a hell of a lot better, but it still took another hour to get Charlie off of my ass. I wished I had some kind of educational pamphlet to give him instead of having to explain it all to him. I just wanted to get upstairs and away from him. I had barricaded the door after having brushed my teeth. I had just gotten into my pajamas when a soft knock sounded from my window. I jumped and my heart rate accelerated. Shit. I'd invited Jacob over. Breathing deeply, I calmed myself. It was only Jacob. Moving to the window, I slid it open. "I can't believe you actually came." He hopped from the tree to the window with ease. "Fucking the Police Chief's daughter in his house is too good to pass up. Even if we get caught, I'll remember that shit for the rest of my life!" Immediately his hands moved to my body and I found myself stumbling backwards until I was pressed against my low dresser. The force of my body pushed it against the wall with a thump. "Be good, Jacob, the possibility of getting caught is the turn on, not actually getting caught." "Be good?" he whispered. "Be good when you're wearing what I can only describe as the worst pajamas I've ever seen in my entire fucking life? Those clothes deserve to be ripped to shreds and you need punished for even putting them on. These do nothing to show off your tight little rockin' body." Fucking perv. I rolled my eyes. I had my reasons for wearing sweat pants and an old shirt to bed. It would hardly be appropriate to wear a thong and half shirt to bed when I lived alone with my father, would it? I mean, what if I had to get up in the middle of the night to pee? What if I bumped into him, physically? A shudder ran through me. "Sorry, Jacob," I said, all sweet and nonchalant, "but I forgot that you were even coming over tonight." He growled. The fucker actually growled at me as his hands moved to the stretched collar of my shirt.

My hands moved to cover his. "Don't actually rip it. It's my favorite shirt in the universe."

Chapter 9: Involvement EPOV Bella had just left my bedroom and I was left alone to reflect. It was the most talking we'd ever done. Whatever she and Esme talked about in her session this afternoon had left Bella extremely agitated. I had to shut my eyes when she started to speak during group because it was too painful to watch. Most everyone in the room had gone through those emotions at one time or another and many of them had expressed it in the same way she had. But it was still painful. She had been so angry. And then she'd grabbed my wrist and started yanking me out of the living room. I didn't know what to do and when she stopped at my bedroom, it was obvious that she wanted to go in. My heart had started racing, even though she'd been in it the week before, but I still panicked just a little. We'd talked about art and music, which were fairly safe topics and topics that I enjoyed. But she asked about my parents and I hadn't been able to get my mind to supply anything to say in return. She quickly asked me something else. And she had said something about her mother. And seemed like she had no inclination to talk about her mother, so again we talked about something else. I was thinking about what songs to play for her in the car tomorrow when a knock sounded on my door. Looking over, I saw that the door was still open and Esme stood outside of it. I couldn't help but sigh. Apparently it was my turn for individual sessions. This was the part about Friday nights that I hated. But as there was nothing I could do about it, I moved off my bed and into the hallway, making sure my door was closed behind me. Once situated in Carlisle's study, Esme gave me her soft smile. "Edward." I let a small smile appear on my face, but in reality, I still remembered last week and was fearful of a repeat. "So I wanted to apologize for last time. I didn't mean to upset you like that. I just thought it might be time to finally talk about some of the things you refuse to share." "Th-th-they're nnnot for y-you t-to know, Esme." "Do you think that walking around with these secrets buried inside of you does you any good?" My eyes slipped closed. I didn't think that having everyone else know about these things was going to help me at all. I didn't know everything about everyone, so why would it be okay that other people know so much about me. Besides, she has the files. "B-b-but y-y-you already kn-kn-know." "Yes, I do, Edward. But me knowing what happened is not the point. The object is that you finally let some of it go and allow someone else to help you with it." She sighed and I opened my eyes to watch as she shook her head. "It doesn't have to be me, Edward. I'm not oblivious to the fact that you're not entirely comfortable around me, but you should tell someone. You should let someone help you." I was about to protest; to tell her that I didn't need help and that these things inside of me were going to stay inside of me until I died. It didn't matter how many people I told or how many people were wanting to help. But before I could even open my mouth, Esme continued, "I know Carlisle and Emmett are out. I understand that, but you have Alice."

"Sh-she's g-got her own th-things to-to-to deal with." And that was true. Alice knew some of it, but that was only because she'd born witness to some of my more vivid nightmares when we were in foster care, not because I had told her about anything. But Alice had enough on her plate just dealing with her own memories, lost or not, and her losing time like she did. Plus she had Jasper to deal with. "Okay." I looked up in surprise. That was it? Esme was going to let it go? "So, Carlisle tells me you're going to Olympia tomorrow?" I nodded, happy with the change of topic. "Foreign films with Bella?" Again, I nodded. "That should be fun. So I take it you and she have hit it off, so to speak?" Shrugging, I answered, "I d-don't know." I knew I wasn't going to get an answer, but I asked anyway. "W-why's sh-she here?" Esme smiled at me again, this time a bit condescendingly. "You know I can't tell you that. I hope that she'll tell you herself." "B-b-but it's s-s-s-similar to me?" Esme leaned forward. "You and Bella have a lot in common, Edward." She sighed and cocked her head to the side, looking at me with narrowed eyes. Esme was studying me the way Carlisle sometimes did. "Olympia is a long ways away. What do you think you and she will talk about in the car?" I shrugged. I actually had no idea, but I wanted to talk to her about something, even if my stuttering would make it painful. "S-sh-she likes aaaart. Sh-she d-doesn't kn-know Johnny C-Cash." Leaning back now, Esme's smile was natural this time. "So you'll share your musical expertise with her?" I shrugged and watched the smile fade from her lips. "Edward," she started, her voice oddly careful and even. "As I said, you and Bella have a lot of things in common. I don't know her complete history, but there's I want you to be careful. I don't think it's a good idea for you to be involved with her." This woman baffled me. She was the one that paired me with Bella in the first place. She was the one that said interacting with her would be good for me, but now she's warning me against being involved with her. Esme made no sense. "W-w-w-what d-d-ddddo you m-m-mean?" "I know that Alice and Emmett are involved with my children and it's perfectly normal for you to want something similar, however, Edward, your situation is quite different than all of theirs. You need to be careful." I struggled, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Alice and Jasper, Emmett and Rosalie. They were together, as in together together. And Esme was telling that I shouldn't betogether with Bella. And that I needed to be careful. What was so different from me and the others that I couldn't be together or involved with someone when they were perfectly able to? "I-I-I d-d-don't un-un-undersssstand, Esme." My frustration was definitely affecting my speech. Esme was quiet for a minute, inhaling deeply, probably trying to figure out how best to say something to an idiot like me. "Yourlife experiences are unique to you, Edward. The other four don't have those same experiences." I felt like acting thirteen and saying 'duh' to her but I held it in. "The things in your past can haunt you much more than the things in their pasts. The things in Bella's past can haunt her in ways that the others would have no idea about." Esme licked her lips. "I am just suggesting that if you find yourselfattracted to Bella, you need to think before you act upon it." I shook my head as I let out a frustrated breath. I knew my unique history would make me different than the others. I understood that. I thought that went without saying. But if I was hearing Esme right, she was telling me that I couldn't or shouldn't have a romantic relationship with Bella, which seemed

stupid. First, I doubted that Bella would want to be romantically involved with someone like me. Second, she seemed to be involved with Jacob Black at the moment and third, we weren't even friends, really. At least I didn't know if we were. "Th-th-that sssseeeeems unf-f-fair, Esme." She folded her hands in her lap and gave me a pointed look as if what she was going to say should have been obvious to me. "You remember your freshman year, don't you, Edward?" My breathing sped up. "That was with someone who didn't haveissues." Oh. Now I got what she was truly talking about. I wished that I hadn't had to work so hard to get it, but now I did. She wasn't talking about a romantic relationship with Bella. She was talking about a sexual relationship with Bella. My head hung low as I ran both hands through my hair. I wished that the memories of that night on the beach would just be erased from my head. But they were always there and leave it to Esme to make me think of them tonight. I didn't know how long I'd sat there looking at her feet, but when I looked up at her, Esme was simply studying me. Again, I was the lab rat. "I h-h-hadn't p-p-p-p" the word wouldn't come out, so I shifted what I was going to say. "Th-th-that w-w-wasn't m-my in-in-intention w-w-with, B-B-Bella." Now Esme was full of sympathy. It oozed off of her, from her motherly voice to her creased brow and sad lips. "Edward, it wasn't your intention back then either, but it happened. It's okay that it happened, but I don't want you to go through the same thing again. There is so much more therapy that you need before you get involved like that." I couldn't help but bury my head in my hands. She was basically telling me that of all the freaks, I was the king. I was the Freak King who would need years and years of intensive therapy just to be close to someone. I was the King of the Freaks and I couldn't form a normal, healthy relationship with someone of the opposite sex without some psychiatrist prescribing me a multitude of pills and getting me to 'work through my past.' When I looked up, I felt tired and annoyed. "W-w-well, y-y-you d-d-d-don't nnnnneed t-t-to worry. Sh-she d-d-d-doesn't liiiiike m-m-me liiiiike th-th-that." "Edward, please don't be upset." "I-I'm t-tired. C-c-can I g-gooo now?" ... Since it was Saturday, I did not get woken up by Emmett yelling at Alice to get out of the bathroom, instead my alarm clock went off. I groaned as I looked at the time, wondering for a brief moment why I was getting up so early. But then I remembered. I was going to Olympia with Bella today. It wasn't a date. I knew it wasn't a date, but I was excited none the less. I practically shot out of bed and flew out of my room and into the bathroom. I showered quickly and dressed just as quickly, happy that I had picked out my clothes the night before. My iPod had finished syncing as I slept and was completely charged. I hoped that Bella would like the music I'd chosen. It'd taken me quite sometime to pick out the best songs from my library. I was nervous and Esme's discussion with me from last night wasn't helping. Carlisle was downstairs as I went to get some quick food for breakfast. I let him say his piece and remind me that I was to check in every two hours and then confirmed that I had told Bella about my attacks. I poured two cups of coffee into travel mugs, said goodbye and got into my Volvo.

I had no idea why Emmett got a Jeep, Alice got a Porche and I got stuck with the soccer mom Volvo, but that's how it happened. Not that I really minded. The Volvo was fast enough and I liked it. I headed over to Bella's house and made good enough time to be just a few minutes early. As I exited the car and moved up the stairs to knock on the door, Chief Swan stepped out of the house. "H-h-hello, ssssir." With narrowed eyes, he looked me up and down. He was an incredibly intimidating man, even dressed in a tackle vest, holding a fishing rod. "Edward." He stopped in front of me. "Bring her back in one piece and if you put your hands on her in any inappropriate way, I'll make sure you spend a some time inside of our cozy little jail cell. Got it?" I gulped at the automatic assumption that I would do anything to hurt his daughter. "Y-y-yes, sssssir." Finally, the man smiled at me. "Have fun and drive safe." I stood frozen until he was in his cruiser, pulling out of the driveway slowly. Before I could make it the rest of the way to the door, Bella was in front of me, locking the door behind her. "Hey, Edward." "H-h-hi." "Did Charlie put the fear of God into you?" I couldn't help but smile as she rolled her eyes. "H-he m-made sssure I kn-knew to t-t-take care of y-you." She shook her head and started off the steps. I followed behind. "It's humorous. Charlie wants to go all over-protective Daddy on me now." She stopped at the car and looked back at me. "Just a couple of years too late." I watched as she got in and then I rounded the car and slid in too. "I b-b-brought y-you c-c-c-coffee." I shrugged as she looked at the travel mug. "I-I d-d-didn't kn-know if you d-dr-drank it or not." "Thanks." She grabbed the coffee and started drinking it. I wished I had brought cream and sugar for her because I didn't know how she took it. But as I pulled away from her house, she seemed as though black coffee was good enough. "So, you going to school me or what?" I glanced at her and she nodded towards my iPod. A smile formed on my face as I reached out and turned it on, pushing it down into the dock. "I-I-I d-d-didn't know w-what you l-liiiiked, so I j-just p-p-put a b-b-bunch of ssssongs on here." She looked at me expectantly. "Y-you c-can f-flip th-through it and f-find something you liiiike." Bella smiled at me but sighed. "The point isn't for me to find something on there that I like; the point is for you to pick the songs and expose me to new things to see if I like them, right?" "Th-then just p-p-push play." She pushed the button and Camille Saint-Saens' Danse Macabre started playing. I'd put it as song one, first because it was a sort of light hearted piece and typically put me at ease and second because I thought she'd enjoy the story behind it. From the corner of my eye, I watched as her eyes narrowed. She took a sip of her coffee and then turned to me. "It's not all going to be Classical, is it?" "N-no." "Okay, so spill it, Edward. What's the song and why should I like it?"

The way she said it made me smile. "I-it's D-danse M-m-macabre and y-you'll liiiike it when y-you know w-what it's a-about." I turned my head for a moment, just to gage her reaction. She was looking at me, expecting me to continue. "I-it's th-the d-dance of d-death." Bella let out a soft laugh and instantly the tightness in my chest lessened. "B-basically, D-death p-plays the f-f-fiddle ev-every Halloween in a gr-graveyard and th-the skeletons r-rise up and d-dance w-with him. And usually th-there isss a k-k-king and a p-peasant and a p-p-p-pretty girl and D-d-death basically t-tells them thaaat n-no m-matter wh-who you were in l-life, ev-everyone ends up the ssssame in the end." The road was quite empty this early in the morning, so I risked another look at her, wondering if she was thinking that I was an idiot or stupid. She said nothing, her face forward and she listened. A smile crept into her features and she turned to me. "So, right now, there're skeletons dancing with Death?" I nodded, then moved my eyes back to the road. "I like it." Good. I was relieved. I had been incredibly nervous about the whole trip, but the music I'd chosen had caused me a bit of grief. I wanted her to like it because if she liked it, then by extension, she liked at least a piece of me. "Most people should understand that, you know?" I glanced at her. She had returned to looking at the road. "People get so caught up with the pseudo-reality of right now that they forget death will come to us all one way or another." The song ended and I felt the need to prepare her for the shift. "N-now it'll be a f-few C-C-Cash songs sssssince y-you obviously n-need s-some education in the f-fundamentals of music." Ring of Fire came on. "Th-this is p-p-probably one of his m-most well kn-known ssssongsbut n-n-not my f-f-favorite." After that Long Black Veil played and I told her that the Dave Matthews Band did a live version of it that was just stunning and then The Man Comes Around played. And while I loved the song, as it was one of Johnny Cash's best in my opinion, the Biblical references always put me slightly on edge. There was some small dialogue about each song and the songs that came after, ranging from Neil Young to JayZ and from Tool to the Mamas and the Papas. Some songs she knew and some she didn't. We were about half way to Olympia when Bella wanted to stop at a gas station to use the restroom. While she got out, I filled up the car and called Carlisle, letting him know that I was still breathing and cognitive. When she got back into the car, it wasn't hard to tell that she'd gotten high in her few moments away from me. We took off again and I tried not to focus on the light funky smell that rolled off of her or the way her eyes were glassy and slightly bloodshot. We drove silently for a while as she leaned her head back, eyes closed and listened to the music, I tried to figure out whether she got high to be able to tolerate being with me or if she just normally got high in the mornings. But as Tom Petty started singing about wildflowers, I figured that I should just say something or let it go. Knowing that she was stuck with me until we got back to Forks, I figured I should just say something. It wasn't as if she wasn't candid about asking me questions about my parents or anything else. So I took a deep breath and tried to relax. "B-Bella?" She turned her head to me, a slight smile playing on her perfectly pink lips. "Y-y-you d-d-don't have to hide th-that you're h-h-high from me." Bella was silent for a moment before shrugging. "I didn't know if you'd care or not." Suddenly, she sat up a little straighter in her seat. "Did you want to smoke? I wasn't trying to be rude." I shook my head. "Are you sure? I would think a little pot would help with some of that anxiety." Again I shook my head. "It m-makes it w-w-worse." She shrugged. "I j-just d-d-didn't want you to th-think th-that I w-w-would j-judge y-you for th-that." But that wasn't entirely true. I didn't like that she got high. I actively wished that she didn't get high but that was less about her and more about me and my mother. "I'm sorry, Edward. I wasn't trying to beI mean, I just figured with your dad being a doctor and all that you wouldn't be okay with me"

I had to laugh at that. "Y-you-your d-d-dad's the P-p-police Ch-chief, B-Bella." Her smiled widened as she nodded. "B-but c-can I ask w-why y-you liiiike d-d-dg-getting high?" While her smile remained, she let it slip into a lazy grin as she laid her head back again. "Everything's much fuzzier and I can focus on my thoughts instead of just getting lost in them." She paused for a moment. "I mean, it's like this music. Not high, I would hear it and maybe I would like it or not, but being high, it's like it's clear; I can focus on it. I can really listen to it and absorb it and find meaning in it." Again, we were silent for a while before she asked, "Do you like Forks?" I shrugged. It was okay. I had people who cared about me here but as far as if I could be anywhere in the world, I probably wouldn't chose Forks. "You know the nicest thing about Forks? There is so much good pot here. In Arizona it was like a surplus of Mexican ditch weed, bags with nothing but shake and one or two little dried out nuggets of bud, but here you can get the fucking A grade without searching it out." "D-do you miss an-anything a-a-about Arizona?" She took a breath. "I miss how many people there were. Not everyone knew everyone. It was a lot easier to blend in anddisappear." I thought about it for a moment. It seemed strange for Bella to move here to live with her father. Even if he was the chief of police, it seemed like an odd fit; a teen aged girl living with her father instead of her mother. The only reason Carlisle was allowed to adopt Alice was because at the time Carlisle was still married and when they got divorced, Kate didn't want any of us, so the court had no other choice but to leave us with Carlisle. "D-do you liiiike l-living with your d-dad?" I watched as Bella's face fell just a little. "Charlie's okay. He drinks a lot but he's not much for interaction, so it's not like I'm subjected to anything. And of my two parents, he is far better than Renee." She sighed. "I just wish Charlie would realize that it's a little too late for him to play the father figure. I mean, I barely know the dude." The song changed and I was about to tell her who it was when she smiled widely at me. "This is Otis Redding." I returned her smile, happy that she knew Mr. Redding. "My grandmother used to listen to him. Dude's awesome." "I-I kn-know." Good. Another Bella approved musical choice. It was amazing how happy it made me that she not only knew who this was, but that she liked him. I wanted to ask her a million questions but as I had never been really good at conversations, I didn't know how many questions would be appropriate. Luckily, Bella spoke before I could. "Why do you like music so much?" I licked my lips involuntary, hoping that I could get the words out and not sound like a moron. "I-I'm-I'm g-g-good at it." I shrugged. "And l-listening t-t-t-to it h-h-h-as b-been the only th-th-thing th-that ever m-made me feel n-nooormal." There it was out, but I was pretty sure I sounded like an idiot saying it. Not just the stuttering, every word I said was stupid. After a moment of silence, Bella ran her hands through her hair and pulled it across to one side. She looked absolutely excellent doing that. "Have you always stuttered?" I swallowed and licked my lips again. I shook my head. "N-no. M-my m-m-m-m," I sighed in frustration at the block. I wished I could close my eyes but seeing as though I was driving, I figured it would be

best to keep them open. Taking a deep breath and thinking of one of the compositions I'd written years ago, I tried again. "M-my m-m-m-mom s-s-said tttthhhat it st-started w-when I was f-f-five." "Wow. Do they know why?" I shook my head. "N-n-nobody kn-knows w-w-why p-people start st-stuttering. N-neurological, physiological dis-disruption, m-maybe?" Again, she was quiet and I thought she was just listening as Otis Redding gave way to Blues Traveler. Honestly I was happy for the break in conversation. It would have been fine if we were talking about her, but she was asking about me now and that was difficult. "Where's your mom now, Edward?" My heart clenched and my breathing quickened. My hands tightened on the steering wheel involuntarily and I could feel the onset of the panic. I desperately willed it away. If I panicked, Carlisle would've been right. Esme would have been right about me. They couldn't be right about me. So I took deep breaths. "Edward? Are you okay? You don't have to" Blowing out a steady stream of air, I figured I should tell her. This was what I wanted with Bella Swan, wasn't it? I wanted her to know me, right? I wanted to know her. "Sh-sh-she's d-d-dead." "Oh. I'm sorry." The pity in her voice made my body tense even more. Everyone always pitied me. And she didn't know the whole story. But I plunged forward, hoping that by giving her some kind of detail about me that perhaps she'd think of me as something other than a freak, like the rest of the high school did. "Sh-she k-k-killed herself." "Oh." I risked a glance over to her and then turned hastily back. I might as well tell her the rest. It wasn't how I wanted the drive to Olympia to go, but it was too late to change that now. "Sh-she liiiiked d-drugs." I felt nervous energy replacing the panic within my body, making my knees bounces slightly. "Sh-she w-w-was a heroin ad-ad-addict. One d-day sh-she c-came into m-my room and st-started t-t-to ssssay a-all this w-w-w-weird stuff and sh-sh-she had a g-g-g-gun in her hand and" I shook my head, wishing that I could bang it against something. Not only was the story horrible and came with visuals, but it took my mouth so long to tell it that it made it that much more painful. "Sh-she j-j-just p-put it to her h-head and p-p-p-p, sh-shot herself." "What the fuck?" Bella sounded angry. I looked at her from the corner of my eye. She was staring at me with such a strange expression; a mix of disgust, anger, confusion, and hurt. "Why the fuck would she do that in front of you? How fucking old were you?" I shouldn't have told Bella. That was a mistake. Of course she would have more questions. But now I felt like a bigger freak than ever before. "I-I w-w-w-was seven." "Jesus fucking Christ!" "I-I think it w-w-was ssssupposed t-to be m-m-me and h-her." "What?" "I-I think sh-she w-w-was going t-to t-t-take m-me w-w-with her."

"Are you fucking serious?" I flinched. "D-don't y-yell, B-B-Bella. I'm-I'm-I'm ssssorry." How was I supposed to correct this now? I was such an idiot. "What the hell are you sorry for, Edward? What your mom did was fucked up. I'm sorry for getting loud, but Jesus!" "M-m-my m-mom loved me, B-Bella," I said quietly. I knew my mother loved me. I had never questioned that, ever. "B-b-but sh-she loved heroin m-m-more." And even that wasn't the full story, but I had shared enough and no longer wanted to talk about my family. My mother hadn't wanted to kill me and in the end, that's why she didn't. Although there had been many, many nights that I had wished that she had. "I'm sorry, Edward, I didn't mean to" Bella's voice was softer than I'd ever heard it before. It took me a while to be able to force air through my voice box, making a sound, but when I did, my voice was nearly as quiet as hers. "It's o-okay, B-Bella." I wasn't upset with her, but I felt tired after having told her all that; after having it replayed in my head for what had to have been the millionth time. I scrolled the music on the iPod until I came to Billie Holiday. There was only one song of Billie's and then it moved into Nina Simone. It was to the quieter tones of Nina's slower songs that I let myself relax again. We were silent for nearly the rest of the ride to Olympia and I felt stupid for having said anything at all. It was ridiculous of me to think that Bella would want to know something like that about me. It wasn't until we entered the city that Bella spoke to me again. "Edward, I'm sorry I asked about your mom. I don't want anyone asking about my mom, so" "It's o-okay, B-Bella." She turned away from me to look out the window. "So do you know where you're going? The movie should be starting soon." I had to smile. She obviously didn't know what an over thinker I was. I had Googled the film festival, Googled the theater, and Mapquested it three different ways. "W-w-we're about f-five m-miles away." ...

Chapter 10: Human Bondage E POV We watched the first movie, Prisoner of the Caucasus, which I had no real feelings about. I was sure it was a perfectly fine movie, but I was preoccupied, mostly because I'd been sitting next to Bella the whole time. I was much more interested in her than the movie. I'd read the story before but she was entirely new to me. I tried to pay attention to the movie. I really, really did. But we were sharing an arm rest, and every once in a while we'd move to put our arms there at the same time and there was somethingelectric about her. It wasn't like a shock you get from static; there wasn't the sharp whip of pain. It was more like a constant flow of energy traveling through unseen conduits.

When the movie was over, we had about two hours until the next one started. "Do you mind if we go get something to eat?" Bella asked me. It was lunch time and I was hungry too. I was about to tell her that it was fine and ask her what kind of food she liked when she continued . "It's just that I can'tI have to eat on a semi-regular schedule or my blood sugar goes all wonky." She looked almost nervous when she said it. "T-th-that's f-f-f-fine, B-Bella. Ther-there's f-f-food all u-up and d-down this r-r-road." Bella smiled at me, and to my complete and utter amazement, she grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the exit. I barely had time to rid myself of the shock when I found myself out on the side walk, still being yanked behind Bella. She pulled me into a small pizzeria. "I hope you don't mind. Pizza's quick, cheap, and kinda easy." Bella let go of my hand as she slid into a booth near the front window. I sat down across from her. There were a million things I wanted to say, but stutter or not, I wasn't sure that I would be able to say any of them. I wanted to know why she looked nervous when she told me she had to eat. I wanted to know if she felt electric currents between us too. I wanted to ask how she got the little scar on the top of her forehead that was mostly disguised by her hair line. I wanted to ask why out of everyone, she asked me to go to the movies with her. But I didn't. I didn't ask any of those things. Instead, I just watched as she pulled a small black pouch out of her bag and unzipped it. She sanitized her hands and looked up at me, giving me a little shrug. "Sorry, I have to." I had no clue as to what she was apologizing for or what she had to do, but I sat, watching her. The pouch held a little plastic container, a digital thing, and some flat thing with a button. Finally, I realized what she was doing. She was going to test her blood sugar. I watched as she put the lancet in the little stabbing device and pushed a test strip into the monitor. I winced with her as she pushed the button on the device and pricked her finger. A small drop of blood formed and she held it to the testing strip. It beeped five times as she took her napkin and pressed it to her bleeding finger. A number appeared and I watched as she shrugged. "Good thing pizza's full of carbs." "I-i-is it o-okay?" Again, she shrugged as she removed the lancet from the device and started closing up the pouch. She sanitized her hands again. "It's okay. A little low, but" "D-do you h-haaaave t-to take in-insulin?" She nodded. "Yeah. I should have had popcorn at the theater but it seemed too early." The waitress arrived and Bella and I decided on a pizza. When the server left, I continued to ask questions, but not the ones I really wanted to know. "S-ssssso, w-w-w-what's the w-w-worst thing a-about h-h-having di-di-diabetes?" She took a sip of the water the waitress had left and thought for a moment. "Knowing that it won't just go away. Not being able to eat everything I want to eat. Making myself bleed at least four times a day. Jabbing needles into myself. Yeah, basically everything." She was quiet for a moment before adding, "I hate needles and blood."

I just nodded. I wouldn't like any of that either. I didn't have a blood phobia or anything, but I'd seen enough of it gushing from various parts of my body that I wouldn't want to stab my finger every day. "So what's the worst part about having a stutter?" My breath caught for a moment. I hadn't been prepared for that. I should have expected some kind of reciprocal question, but for whatever reason, I hadn't given it thought. But she was looking at me now, her eyes slightly narrowed as she stirred the ice around her glass with her straw. I took several deep breaths. I wasn't going to freak out. If I wanted to be normal, I would have to talk to people, even beautiful people like Bella. "Uh," I started smoothly. There were so many things that sucked about having a stutter. "I-I-I c-can't ssssay every th-thing I w-w-want to say. N-n-no matter h-how h-h-haarrrd I t-try, I c-c-c-can't c-control it." I shrugged. "B-b-basically everything." My eyes had drifted away from her but now I brought them back. I had thought of one more. "P-p-people think I-I'm s-s-stupid." I mentally kicked myself for saying all that, even if I was proud that I'd made it through it. Bella was looking at me with what had to be pity in her eyes. I hated that pity that people seemed to want to give me. I looked down at my hands which were fiddling with the edge of my napkin. "I don't think you're stupid, Edward." I looked up at her. I was sure my expression reflected my shock. I knew she didn't think of me the way Mike Newton and the other kids thought of me, but I still operated under the assumption that she thought I was some how mentally deficient. She gave me a small smile and I returned it. "Th-thank you." Bella shrugged. "I've seen your room. I don't think stupid people read the books you read or know anything about art and I'm sure some stupid people play music, but they're probably not all that good." I allowed myself to chuckle at that. "Y-you h-haven't heard me p-play." "Doesn't matter; I already know you're awesome at it." Wow. That wasI mean, sheAnd with the compliments and "I'm sorry about earlier, Edward." I quirked a brow at her. "About asking about your mom. It wasn't" Sighing, I dropped my head and looked at my hands again. "I-it w-was a long t-time ago, B-Bella." What I said was true. It was a long time ago, but I could still see the scene before me when I closed my eyes. There weren't any words to describe the lifeless body of your heroin-addicted mother slumped on the floor before you, while her blood and brain matter left trails on your wall and door as it slid down. I could still remember the smell. She had done it in front of my door, so I couldn't get out until I stepped over her. The door knob was red with blood. The only thing I could do was back away. No one else had been home at the time. I had no idea how long it took for my father to come back, but I remember shivering as I sat in the dark corner of my closet. I had never been so happy to see him in all my life. Of course that feeling was short lived. "So ask me something." I looked up, blinking, willing myself to come back to the present. "W-what?"

"Well, it's only fair, right?" "W-why did y-you m-move to Fffffforks?" Bella rolled her eyes. "I stole a car. The judge said I had to come here and have therapy." I could tell my eyes were wide. "W-w-why d-did you steal a c-c-car?" I had never met someone other than Jacob Black that did something soillegal. She smiled for a moment but then it faded quickly. "Um, I had to go some place." "W-was it y-your m-m-mom's c-c-car?" "No. Renee's piece of shit isn't worth stealing. It was our neighbor's." She rubbed her hand over her face like she was tired. "But it wasn't like I was out joy-riding, you know." "W-where d-did you h-have t-to go?" She took in a deep breath and shifted her eyes away from me. A bell dinged behind her and she turned around to look. When she turned back to me, she was smiling again. "Look, it's our pizza." We ate very quietly and I was amazed at how I had thought asking her a few questions would clear things up, because in reality, all it did was add more questions to the list. But if she was anything like me, then she wouldn't be looking for a question and answer session with someone she just met. Once we were finished eating, I paid for the pizza. Bella took out money and gave it to me. I didn't want it. I had tried to give it back to her but she wouldn't take it back, telling me once again that it wasn't a date and so she could and should pay for half the pizza. I felt bad. It was fine that it wasn't a date, but Carlisle had been giving me money since he first took me in and I rarely ever spent any of it. Bella's dad was a civil servant and couldn't make that much money. But I didn't want to offend her, so I folded up the bills and stuck them in my pocket. When we were back outside, I turned to head back to the theater as it was nearing time for the next movie, but Bella's hand on my arm stopped me. "Do you want to skip Anna Karenina?" She tilted her head to the side as she looked up at me, her big brown eyes locked with mine. "I mean, we both already know the story or whatever and there's a cool ass looking bookstore over there," she said, jabbing her thumb up the road. "S-sure." A smile spread across her face and I was extremely happy that my agreeing with her made her smile. "Great." Her smile faded as her brow creased in the middle. "So, um, would you mind if I smoked?" It took me a moment to process her question. It wasn't every day that someone asked me if I cared if she used an illegal substance. "Umn-n-no." She let out a relieved breath before smiling again. Once more she took my wrist and started tugging me towards the bookstore. Before we got there, she ducked into a small alley way. It was filthy looking and made me feel quite uncomfortable. "You stay here," she said as she let go of me. "I'll only be a second. Justjust cough really loud if you s ee someone coming." And now I was a look out for Bella. And that made me uncomfortable. But to be perfectly honest, Bella could probably talk me into robbing a bank, so I stood there, facing the street, watching for any signs of someone headed this way.

It wasn't long before she emerged from the darkened alley. I could smell the pot smoke on her. It clung to her and probably just like Jacob Black, she didn't think anyone would be able to smell it. It was faint, but I still noticed it. Her eyes were a bit glassier than at lunch and she had a certain kind of lazy smile playing on her lips. "Ready for the bookstore?" I just nodded and she turned, taking off up the street. Of course, I followed, my long legs making it too easy to catch up with hers. The bookstore was old and dusty nothing like the new chain bookstores. There was a small caf attached to it and plush arm-chairs scattered throughout. It was easy to see how much Bella liked it from the moment she opened the door. She even turned around to look at the tinkling bells on the door as it closed behind us. For a moment, she seemed to channel Alice after one of her shopping trips and looked for all the world like a little girl at Christmas. Personally, I didn't care what kind of books were in this little shop as long as they continued to make Bella bounce. I followed her through the weaving stacks of books until she found a section that interested her. Her hand was running lightly over the spines of Jane Austen's most popular books in hardback. I couldn't help but smile at her. She was lost inside her head and from the look on her face, she was enjoying it. "I love this place. They should get one just like it in Forks." I silently agreed with her; then I could take her to it every day and see her this happy all the time. Watching her closely as she began to pull books half way off the shelf and study their covers, I suddenly wished that I owned more books that Bella seemed to like. Although I'd read Austen, I didn't own any. "I couldn't bring all my books from Phoenix." She turned to me, her cheeks reddening for some reason. "Not that I had many anyway, but I could only bring a few paperbacks." She started grabbing a couple and then moved towards an armchair before stopping and looking back at me. "I promise, I'm not going to make you stay here until I read all of these. I'm just going to skim through them and remember the best parts." I smiled at her again. "I-it's okay, B-Bella. W-we can ssstay as l-long as you w-w-want." My body felt weak when she smiled at me again, excitement shining in her eyes. I followed her, thinking she was going to go sit down, but instead she moved to a different section. After moments of scanning, her hand reached out and grabbed a book, shoving it towards me. "You don't have this, but you'd like it." I read the title: Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham. I felt my eyes go wide and she laughed. "It's not crazy kinky or anything like that. It's all dark and tortured." With that, she turned and I found myself following her to the armchairs. We sat in adjacent chairs and I couldn't help but steal peeks and glances at her out of the corner of my eye. She was soenthralled by the Austen books. It was interesting the way her face shifted expressions as she read different excerpts and how her lips moved as she read each word. It was hard to believe that she'd read them before. I wondered how many times she'd read each one. I had read the introduction to the book she had handed me and found that I probably would enjoy it. But my mind was made up the minute she had said that I would like it. I was going to buy it. I was also going to buy those books for her. I was sure that she would refuse or try to keep me from doing it, but I was going to find a way. My cell phone rang, startling me out of my plotting. I dug it hastily out of my pocket and checked the

caller ID. Damn. It was Carlisle. I'd forgotten to check in with him. Without even saying hello, I told him, "I-I'm s-sssorry. I-I f-f-forgot. I-I'm f-f-fine." "How are the movies? Are you in one now?" "Uh." I didn't know how to respond. Did I tell him we skipped the last one and opted for a bookstore instead? Was that okay? I was a horrible liar, even over the phone, so I told the truth. "We-we're in a b-b-bookstore n-now." "Oh. Did you and Bella get something to eat?" "Y-yes." "Do you know when you'll be heading back?" "N-no, b-but p-p-probably sssssometime ssoon." "And you're having fun?" "Y-yes, C-Carlisle." I rolled my eyes as Bella smiled at me. "Then I won't keep you. Just make sure you call me after a bit." After I told him that I would call him again soon, I looked at Bella. She was still engrossed in one of her books. It wasn't until I snapped the phone closed that she looked up at me. "He always keep such close tabs on you?" I nodded, not feeling the need to tell her that typically I never did anything but go to school and come home, so there wasn't much of a need for him to keep tabs on me. "That's got to suck." I just shrugged. I hated to suggest it, but if we waited any longer, I feared her father would send out a search party for us. Carlisle would be his second-in-command. "W-w-we should p-probably go now." She looked at her wrist, as if there was a watch on it, which there wasn't, and sighed. "Wouldn't want Charlie to think I ran off." Bella stood and I did the same, taking the books from her hands. Turning towards the front of the shop, I began to walk away until I felt her electric little hand on my arm. "Edward, those books go back there." I turned to find her pointing towards the stacks. "I-I-I know. B-b-but I'm b-buying them." Her eyes widened a little. "Not for me, I hope." I shrugged. "You can't buy them for me, Edward." "W-why not?" "I'm not a charity case, that's why. If I really wanted them, I could buy them myself." I frowned. It was just as I had anticipated, but I shook my head at her. "N-no. I-I'm buying them f-for you. Ch-Ch-Christmas p-presents." Rolling her eyes, she let her pouty lips turn up into a smile. "Christmas is months away and I'm not getting you anything, so I can't accept the presents." At least she was honest. I sighed. "F-fine. I'm b-buying them f-f-for mmmmme." "'Cause you look like the Austen type. Do you prefer Mr. Darcy or Mr. Knightley?"

I smiled. She obviously mistook my not owning any Austen books for having never read any. "N-neither, although I p-p-prefer Elizabeth B-Bennet to Emma W-W-Woodhouse." My smile grew as her eyes widened. When she rolled her eyes, I knew I had triumphed. "A-and you can b-b-borrow them an-an-any, w-whenever you'd like." She narrowed her eyes at me and I could tell she was trying to figure out a way to talk me out of buying the books again. But how could she do that when I had made it clear that I was buying them for myself? Finally, she let out a breath. "Has anyone told you that you can be quite annoying?" I laughed, thinking of the many times Emmett or Alice had told me that. Without anything further, I proceeded to the register. ...

Chapter 11: Stupid School Girl B POV The ride back to Forks was pretty chill. I'd smoked a little before we left and Edward's choice in music amused me. I'd liked just about everything I'd heard on the ride to Olympia, but the music for the ride home was just so perfectly suited for a nice toasty buzz. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought he planned it that way. Edward was an incredibly nice guy. Not just a nice guy, but a nice guy. Like a real gentleman or whatever. He hadn't looked at my tits once. And he didn't smack my ass or make raunchy comments. Yes, Edward was a nice guy, and that was a new thing for me. Basically that meant he made me really nervous. I mean, he'd even brought me coffee this morning. I knew it wasn't a big deal or anything, but it was thoughtful and considerate and Jesus Christ, who fucking knew that Greek Gods from the Mid-fucking-West were also kind, nice and thoughtful? Maybe the myth really did exist after all. And he called me on smoking pot. And I loved that he did. He didn't make me feel bad for it either, he just told me that I didn't have to hide from him. Now that was a notion that made me nearly piss in my pants with fear. Not hide? Jesus. What the fuck would that be like? I realized that smoking pot in front of him wasn't exactly sensitive. Even if he said it was fine, I knew that he probably hated it. But weed wasn't smack and I wasn't his mother. And if he really wasn't okay with it, he should say so instead of waiting for me to read between the lines. But what if he did say he didn't want me to be stoned around him? What would I do? Would I hide it then? Would I respect his wishes or would I simply not go around him? But I hoped he wouldn't give me that scenario because I'd truly enjoyed my time with him. He wasn't pressuring and things feltnatural. His stutter kept him from saying all the shit that other people felt compelled to say and it was all so unnecessary. And the shit we did talk about? That was fuckingwell, it was intense, but crazy cool too. I'd never met anyone who could go on about why Johnny Cash was brilliant and then tell me some fucked up story about his mother all in the same day. And he didn't get weird either. I mean, I got weird. If his mother wasn't fucking dead already, I'd kick her in her stupid teeth for doing that to Edward.

The movie was okay. Movies that were made from books I'd read were almost always just okay. He seemed to be fine with skipping the last one. And the fucker knew Austen. I didn't even have to say the titles of the books, just one character from each and he knew their respective love interests. That was pretty awesome. And the way his body made mine tingle just by sheer proximity? That felt awesome, but also completely scary. As we pulled up to Charlie's tiny little house, I felt the urge to kiss him. It was strange because I didn't want to, like, kiss and grope himalthough the Bronze-God-name- Edward was totally gropeworthy. I wanted to be all sweet with him, maybe even have a real end-of-first-date kiss or some shit. And that was when I kicked myself. I was not that girl and he was not my stupid, fucking boyfriend. This wasn't a date and I wasn't sweet. Fucking kissing Bronze Cullen? What was next, holding his hand and stroking his cheek? I was such a moron. But as he asked me which Austen book I wanted to borrow first with that crooked, sexy, unassuming smile of his, I couldn't help myself. It was fucked up. I felt fucked up as I leaned over the center console and pressed my lips quite chastely against his. My heart started beating faster as my head told me that it was wrong; that faux act of affection or fifth grade antics were just fake and wrong. So then I brought my hand to his thigh. It rested there for only a minute until I moved it up, closer to where the bulge was growing. He was hard and that made me happy because it meant that I didn't make as big of a fool of myself as I had thought with that stupid school girl kissing shit. But then his chest heaved up and down as his hands moved to my shoulder and he pushed me back. As my lips lost contact with his, I withdrew my hand. I was about to get pissed until I saw his face. His eyes were steadfastly glued to the ceiling of the car and he was panting as his chest continued to move up and down rapidly. He wanted me. I could tell that he wanted me. Maybe he was a virgin. But that couldn't be, since Jessica Stanley had already said he'd fucked her. Maybe he just liked taking things slowly, or perhaps he played hard to get. Either way, he didn't shove me back because of me. I licked my lips and let out a breath. "Sorry." I shouldn't have touched him. While I was normally impulsive, I should have controlled this one better. I should've known that a small, innocent kiss was something I could never do. I should have seen that I would fuck it up in some way and I shouldn't have even tried it in the first place. Now I had probably emotionally scarred him for life because here he was, just dropping off some fucked up girl and minding his own businessand then I Fuck. Shaking my head, I whispered, "Sorry," again. Edward turned to me, eyes wide, lips pressed together. He shook his head almost violently as if needing me to know something important. Finally he spoke, or rather, tried to speak. "N-n-n-n-nooooo, B-B-Be-Bel-Bella." That was the worst I'd ever heard him butcher my two syllable name. "P-p-p-p" Without thinking, I ran a hand through his hair and watched as his eyes closed for a minute. I had no idea where that action came from. It was as if I was comforting him. I'd never comforted another living soul in my life, but somehow I knew it was the right thing to do to calm him just a little. I removed my

hand and looked away. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Turning around, I dug around in the bag on the back seat and pulled out a book. "I'll take Pride and Prejudice first." He nodded to me, his lips pressed tightly together again. "Thanks, Edward," I said casually as I pulled the door handle and popped open the door. Once standing outside, I leaned down. "I'll see you, Monday." His eyes found mine and his mouth opened as if to speak, but I quickly looked away. Shit. I felt like a moron as I shoved the car door closed and walked up to Charlie's house. The porch light was on and I didn't even have to unlock the door, Charlie pulled it open himself. "Spying, Chief?" Although his eyes narrowed, Charlie gave me a smirk. "Just making sure the delinquent didn't manhandle you." Rolling my eyes as Charlie shut the door behind me, I asked, "Manhandle? Edward Cullen? Obviously you don't know him." "He's as adopted kid in therapy, Bells, how well do I need to know him?" I shook my head. "You're an ass just like everyone else in this stupid town." Before I could get reprimanded for my use of unladylike language, I held up my book. "He bought me a book. Three, actually, and when I wouldn't accept them he told me that he'd buy them for his collection and let me borrow them. Not much worry about manhandling from a dude that buys Jane Austen chick books, Charlie." He gave me a small, apologetic smile. "I'm not trying to be over-protective, Bells, I just" "Good, because you're a little late for that." I watched as his smile faded when I cut him off. "I'm going to bed." "Did you eat?" I sighed. Stupid concerned parental figure. "Like I said, Charlie. A little late." ... "What's that smile for?" I looked over at Jake as he buttoned up his jeans, his smirk telling me that he already knew what my smile was about. "I was just thinking about how much I enjoy multiple orgasms. God is definitely a chick." "Glad to be of service." I stood up, tugging down my top and looking around the cave. It was moist and fairly cold, but for some reason, it seemed like a natural place to be. "So how many girls have you deflowered here?" "Deflowered?" Jake asked, the laugh apparent in his voice. "I've never deflowered anyone, Bella." "What?" I was honestly shocked. A dude like Jake would be a great first time. "You're full of shit. Come on, I'm not your girlfriend. I swear I won't be offended when you tell me the truth." Jacob lit a cigarette and then sat down on the rock that jutted out from the side. "I've never fucked a virgin, Bella. That's the truth."

I smiled, licking my lips as I moved to sit down next to him. "Well let me go out and find you one, 'cause, Jesus, Jake, it'll be that girl's lucky fucking day." He shook his head. "No, thanks." I quirked my brow at him. "Too much responsibility. There'll have to be hearts and flowers and lots of foreplay." "You're good at foreplay." And he was. Holy mother of God, was Jacob good at foreplay. I watched as he shrugged. "Doesn't really interest me, Bella. I don't really think it's a turn on to have to do all the work while the girl just lies there acting like she doesn't know how to do shit." He gave me a look. It was the first time since we started the conversation that he actually looked at me. It made me slightly uncomfortable. I didn't know why, I just knew that it did. "A girl like you is perfect for me, Bells. Experienced." I wrinkled my nose up at him. "Not like, slutty experienced. You know what I mean. You know what you like and you don't wait around for me to make you come; you make it happen. I don't need some sappy virgin that's going to want to take me to meet her parents afterwards." A girl like you is perfect for me. I knew he didn't mean it in any kind of way that would change the dynamic of our relationship, but it still made me cringe all the same. I stood up quickly, running my hands through my hair. "So can you score acid? I haven't tripped in a long time." It was true that I was changing the subject, quite abruptly, but I totally didn't want to get into being perfect for Jacob. I was perfect for no one. "The last time I tripped, no one was guiding me and there were tree people and they started out like the Ents in The Lord of the Rings but ended up like the tree from one of the Poltergeist movies, trying to eat me and all that shit. So, it'd be nice to" "What the fuck are Ents?" I sighed. Jacob was not cultured and I wondered if he even owned a book. "Haven't you seen Lord of the Rings?" "That shit's gay, Bella. Fucking hairy footed little people and elves and shit?" Rolling my eyes, I let it go. Lord knew if there wasn't a car chase or something that exploded, a guy like Jacob wouldn't be interested in a movie. "So. Acid, Jake. Can you get any?" "I sell weed, Bella." "So that's a 'no' to the acid? What about painkillers? I'm sure Billy has a script, right?" "Yeah, but he uses those pills." He rolled his eyes at me. "He fucking counts them three times a day and would probably throw knives at me if any were missing." ... I woke up on Monday feeling stupidly excited to see Edward. It made no sense for me to feel that way about a boy like him. I mean, yeah, he was incredibly good looking and I could completely see myself fucking the living shit out of him, but he was nice too. Too fucking nice. What the hell would I seriously

do with a nice guy like Bronze fucking Cullen? And why the fuck was I excited to see him like this? We watched one fucking movie together and ate pizza and listened to music and now I was ready toto what? Go steady with him? Be lovey-dovey with him? The thought just made my stomach turn. Not because of Edward, but because it totally wasn't me to be all puppy dog with boys. And when the fuck had he become Edward and not Bronze Cullen? Jacob was early as usual and we clam-baked on the way to school. I was entirely too happy to smoke too much of his pot. I was incredibly thankful not to be paying for it. And it was in this mindset of being thankful and happy that I gave him a quick hand job before getting out of the car and heading into school. The pot and the concentration it took to bring Jacob off with my hand helped take my thoughts away from Edward. I totally didn't need to crush on Edward fucking Cullen of all people. I would just hurt him. I saw him in the hallway before first period. His hair was shorter. I wasn't sure if I liked it. It was no less unruly, but for whatever reason, that small half inch of hair that was gone made me a little sad. It wasn't long enough anymore to fall over his eyes when he looked down. I wondered if he liked it short like that. I watched him like I normally did, but like usual, he never looked up. It was better that way. If I saw his green eyes, I was sure that I would swoon like a stupid southern belle. It was amazing how much I hated myself for having these feelings. I needed something to numb them, to snuff them out. I didn't want to feel this shit. I didn't deserve to feel this shit. Jacob had told me that if I wanted something other than pot, Tyler Crowley was the person to see. I knew of him. He was nice looking, not a dirty hippie like Jacob and not quite a jock like Newton. Apparently Tyler had been in a car accident several months back and had a plethora of pain pills at his disposal. And apart from that, he was Forks' resident hard drug dealer. He was the son of the mayor, which only made it better. There was no way that Charlie would be busting the mayor's son for dealing. So I knew where to get some pills and acid and told myself that by the weekend I'd be trippin' balls. Hopefully that would be all it took to get back to my regularly scheduled life and forget about my fawning over Edward episode. The day sucked. The only class before lunch that was remotely interesting was Photography. Pixie Cullen and I developed our film in the dark room together. She talked almost constantly about some new outfit she bought and how her boyfriend, Boy Hale, reacted when she wore it for him. It was mind numbing, but nice. I liked Pixie, despite her babbling. She's wasn't all deep and she smiled at me like we are already old friends. Lunch was fine, but the post lunch smoke out in the woods with Jacob was better. The pot helped me in Biology not turn into a gooey mess. I was confronted by Edward's amazing green eyes, but managed just to give him a small smile instead of throwing myself at him. He looked tired. I wanted to talk to him but it was incredibly awkward. There was no privacy at school and what the hell would I have said anyway? Most of the class I just daydreamed about being somewhere else. I did my best to ignore the fact that some how I had managed to let Bronze Cullen in. It was so messed up. I was so messed up. Pretty much Bella's number one rule was to not let them in, especially stupid high school boys.

But he wasn't stupid. Fuck, I needed to pull my fucking head out of my ass. Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster the bell rang and I could leave this den of torture and go towell another den of torture, P.E. But at least in P.E. I could take out my aggression by being blatantly clumsy. It was on Wednesday that I found the opportunity to talk with Tyler. I skipped Photography when I saw him in the hallway. For whatever reason, all he did was smirk at me when I asked to talk to him privately. We went out to his brand new Escalade to talk. The windows were tinted and I suspected that they were too dark to be legal, but as the mayor's son, he could probably get away with just about anything. "So, what's up, Bella Swan?" I smiled at him, leaning back against the door as I angled my body towards him. His dark skin off set the brightness of his eyes. "Jacob doesn't sell acid and I want some." There was no need to dance around the topic. He had something I wanted. His smile grew. "Are you a narc, Bella?" Rolling my eyes, I sighed. "Of course not. Would Jacob sell to me if I was?" He shrugged and I sighed again. "Of course I'm not a narc." "Because your dad's the Police Chief." Duh. "And your dad is the fucking mayor. Does stating the obvious help this process along or what?" "Nah. I've talked to Jake. I know you're cool." "Then sell me some fucking acid already." Tyler gave me another smirk. It was beginning to annoy me. This whole thing should have been pretty simple, just like going to Wal-mart. Dude had something I wanted. I give Dude money; he gives me what I want. Simple. But there he was smirking at me like he couldn't care less about the money I wanted to give him. "What?" I asked. "Are you Black's girlfriend or what?" I couldn't help but laugh. I was no one's girlfriend, that was for sure. "No. Why? Do you have something against selling to girlfriends of Jacob Black?" He shook his head. "Like Jake has enough game to get a girlfriend." Boys were stupid. "Jacob fucks likes a porn star, Tyler, but I'm not his girlfriend." "If he fucks so great, why aren't you his girlfriend?" Taking in a deep breath, I licked my lips and moved closer to him. "Why buy the cow when I get the milk for free?" I'd heard a million people say that about my mother and her boyfriends. I paused for only a moment before continuing, "I don't want a boyfriend." "Do you only fuck Jake?" I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you offering?"

It was nearly time for lunch when I walked back into the school, incredibly sexually satisfied, but still feeling a bit empty with a hit of acid hidden inside the pocket of my jeans. I looked at no one, especially not Ed-Bronze Cullen, as I waited for Jacob to finish his lunch so that we could go smoke. ...

Chapter 12: Challenging the Realities B POV Thursday morning was the start of a annoying day. Stupid Jacob Black never picked me up for school, so I had to take the public bus. Plus, I was late, resulting in a lunchtime detention. It wasn't like Jacob was sick and didn't go to school. No, the asshole was there and accounted for, he just hadn't bothered to come get me, apparently. But due to my detention, I didn't get the chance to talk to him. Instead, I found myself in the last few moments between lunch and Biology listening to Angela Weber puke up her lunch. I just watched her as she came out of the bathroom stall, pulling her hair back and looking at herself in the mirror. She turned sideways, her eyes studying her profile. I could tell she wasn't happy with what she saw. She looked fine to me, even a little too skinny, but I wouldn't tell her that. Angela wouldn't believe me. I had known enough girls with eating issues in Phoenix to know that telling a bulimic girl that she was too thin would just send her into hysterics. Angela bent down and turned on the tap, scooping water into her mouth before swishing and spitting it out. Standing up straight again, she turned off the tap and looked at me through the mirror. "Don't tell anyone, okay, Bella?" I shrugged. "Who am I going to tell?" I didn't think Jessica or Mike would really give a damn if Angela puked herself into an early grave. Angela's friends didn't seem like the type to be overly compassionate. Hell, a bitch like Lauren probably knew and shoved her thousand calorie slice of pizza under Angela's nose every day. "You'd be surprised." "Surprised at what?" Sighing, Angela studied herself again, tugging her shirt down. "At how many people here would rat you out if they knew something like that. If Dr. Hale or my mother found out" "Fuck Dr. Hale." I huffed. "And fuck your mom too." I was in a horrible mood. Usually by this time I was nice and high but thanks to Mr. No-Show Black, I was sober and there were still hours left in my school day. "I would never say shit to Hale, Angela." Angela turned around and gave me a smile. "Thanks, Bella." As we headed out of the bathroom, I decided I didn't care if she went into hysterics and asked, "Why do you do it, though? Do you really think that you're too fat? I mean, I know you're smart and shit, I just don't understand why" "It's a control thing, Bella," she admitted quietly. I turned to look at her. She looked incredibly

nervous, as if she were completely exposing herself. "It's the only thing I have." I wanted to ask more, but it would have been incredibly inappropriate and totally not my business. Plus, the more I knew about Angela, the more she'd start prying into my life and I already had too many people interested in the life and times of Bella Swan. We entered the Biology classroom and immediately my eyes were drawn to my desk partner, Edw-Bronze Cullen. I had done my best over the course of the week to keep a good and healthy distance from him, only really talking to him when absolutely necessary and he seemed to be doing the same. I was sure he was mortified that I had practically jumped him in his car last Saturday. Hell, I was fucking mortified. I was the one doing the jumping and I felt incredibly stupid for doing it. What was I supposed to say? I'd apologized for it. If I said sorry again, he'd think that I felt like it was something with him and it wasn't him. Before I could get to my desk, Mike Newton jumped up and blocked my path, rolling his eyes at Angela and practically forcing her to get out of his way. "Bella!" I sighed. "Mike," I answered, very unenthused. "So you know, there's a dance coming up in two weeks." I raised my eyebrow, just waiting for the asshole to ask. He just stood there, looking at me as if I was supposed to throw myself at him at the mere mention of a school dance. "And?" "Do you want to go with me?" "Seriously?" "Yeah, seriously," he replied, his tone turning a bit indignant. "No, I don't." I heard Angela laugh and watched as Mike's eyes darkened. I'd seen that look before on other boys, other men. As much as I disliked Mike and didn't really care about his feelings, I certainly didn't want to make an enemy. Up until this point I'd been able to spike a volleyball in his face and then manipulate him into thinking it was pure accident. I didn't want to piss him off. I barely knew him, or what he was capable of. "I don't really dance, Mike, and my father is" "Are you going with Jacob Black?" I smiled as I pictured Jake and I stoned at a high school dance. "No. I doubt he's the semi-formal-in-the-gym kind of guy, Mike." "Are you dating him?" What the hell was it with these stupid ass Forks boys? "He's a friend, Mike." I turned around quickly to see that Mr. Banner had taken his place at the front of the class. "Class is starting." Mike's glare didn't let up. "You should ask Jessica. I know she wants to go with you." He let out a heated breath and rolled his eyes. "Of course she wants to go with me, Bella, I'm not stupid." He could have fooled me. I nearly said that to him but he continued. "I've already tapped that." Mike Newton was a fucking ass. Jessica wasn't my favorite person in the world but he didn't have to be so crass about it. "Then don't ask her, but I'm not going with you."

I pushed past him, annoyed that I actually had to shove him out of the way in order to get to my seat. Edward's eyes were fixed on his notebook, but I knew he'd seen and heard the entire exchange. I hope dhe got a little bit of joy out of watching me shut Newton down. If I was the type to go to school dances, I would take Bronze Cullen and ask him in front of Mike. But then, who knew if Bronze Cullen would accept and why was I thinking about that anyway? Stupid high school dances with stupid high school boys. ... "What the fuck, Jake?" He shook his head as he lit the joint, not looking at me. "What's your deal, Bella?" He sounded as if he was bored. "Why'd you ditch me yesterday? Why're you acting like you're avoiding me today?" "Jesus, Bella," he sighed. "We're out in the fucking woods together, right? How is that avoiding?" I grabbed the joint and inhaled. Thank the FSM for this at least. Jacob had yet again failed to pick me up for school this morning. Yesterday I had to get a ride home with Angela. "What the fuck?" I repeated as I held the smoke in. His face was so tense. He looked absolutely pissed and I had no idea why. Everything was cool on Wednesday. Although, now that I thought about it, he was very quiet on the ride home Wednesday after school. I wished he would just tell me what the fuck was wrong with him and stop being such a needy girl. "Jake," I said loudly as I exhaled. "You didn't have to fuck him." "What?" What the hell was he talking about? "Tyler, Bella. He would have sold you that tab without you fucking him in his SUV." Jesus Christ. That was what this was about? The fact that I fucked Tyler? "I didn't fuck Tyler for the acid, Jacob." What an ass. "I'm not a fucking whore. And just in case you're fucking wondering, I don't fuck you for your fucking pot either. I give you money the same as the rest of your customers." He rolled his eyes at me and I wanted to smack him. "Whatever." "First off, fuckstain, I can fuck who I want to fuck. Second, I fucked Tyler because he has a big fucking dick and I wanted to sit on it, not because I wanted acid. Third, what the fuck's your problem? I told you from the beginning that I'm not your girlfriend, which means that I can fuck other people." Grabbing the joint from him, I smacked him in the chest with my other hand. "You don't own me." I inhaled deeply, hoping that the pot would wash away what was transpiring. "Thank God for that," he mumbled. "Don't be a douche, Jacob. Just because you were the first boy to pull my hair in Forks, doesn't mean you pissed on me and made me yours." I hated possession. I hated boys thinking that the minute you touch their dick made you theirs. What a cruel fucking world. Males could go out and stick it

anywhere without need to explain but a female does it and automatically she's a fucking whore. I shoved the joint back towards him and watched as he took it, shrugging his shoulders. "Tyler Crowley is a fucking dick, Bells. You didn't have to fuck him." He took a hit and as he held it in, he continued, his voice distorting. "And don't you even want to know how I know about your Escalade rocking?" He paused for the briefest of moments. "Because the fuckstain told anyone who would listen, Bella." I sighed, wishing he was lying, but knowing he probably wasn't. "Yeah, that mole about an inch under your left ass cheek? Not so much a secret anymore." Finally sitting down next to him, I let out a deep breath before plucking the weed from his fingers. "So this outburst of yours is less about anger over the fact that I fucked someone other than you and more about who that someone was?" For a moment, Jake was silent as he lit a cigarette, apparently finished with the smoldering roach between my fingers. He ran a hand though his hair and for the first time locked his eyes with mine. "He's a fucking cock smoker, Bella, and you'll be lucky if he doesn't have the whole thing on YouTube by the weekend." I blew out the hit I'd been holding and then flicked the joint down, listening to it sizzle as it hit the dampened leaves. "He fucks really good though." Jacob practically growled and I couldn't help but smile. "That's because he's fucked just about every girl above the age of 14 in Forks." He crinkled his nose and shook his head. "Seriously, Bella, you should get tested now." "Whatever." I could tell by his voice he wasn't seriously concerned for the health of my vagina. "Well if your naughty parts start itchin', don't say I didn't warn you." ... "Where are you going?" I asked Jacob as he headed towards the Cullen's stairs. I wasn't happy that I was here again on a Friday night, but I felt better knowing that Jacob and I had more or less made up. I didn't really care, really, he wasn't my fucking boyfriend or anything, but I didn't want to keep dealing with his drama. He shrugged. "My turn with Esme." I made a face, indicating my disgust. "Yuck." I watched as he turned and ascended up the stairs. I'd be left alone with the rest of the Fuck Up Club until he returned, and then I'd probably have to be subjected to Bitch Hale myself. Briefly I looked around. Everyone was sort of milling around, except the Cullens and the Hales. They were all sitting together on the couch. Well, Edward was sort of sitting with them. It was obvious that he was a part of their group, but equally obvious that he was a fifth wheel in said group. I turned around quickly, not wanting to engage Pixie Cullen or her brother before absolutely necessary. Moving through the hall, I found Angela Weber next to a table filled with food. She looked absolutely miserable. "The food table is probably the least comfortable place for an anorexic bulimic girl, you know." She looked up at me. "Yeah, but Dr. Cullen's watching. I have to at least look like I'm contemplating eating."

I turned, my eyes finding the handsome doctor easily. He was in relatively casual looking clothes, leaning against the archway that led to the kitchen. Although his eyes weren't on Angela as she looked at the food that probably made her want to stick her fingers down her throat, he wasn't not looking either. Dr. Cullen's perfect blue eyes took in all of the kids in the room in turn. He was the spy for Dr. Bitch. The sexy spy. "Damn, he's fine." Angela just snorted. "What? You don't think he's sexy as fuck?" Angela turned to regard him, her eyes traveling from his feet up to the perfectly shaped hair on his head. "No, he's sexy but every soccer mom in Forks has tried to get with him." "Well I'm not a soccer mom, Ang." "Ew, Bella. Please do not throw yourself at Dr. Cullen." Rolling my eyes and sighing, I turned my eyes from him to her. "Who says I'd throw myself at him. Perhaps I would seduce him until he threw himself at me." Angela laughed. "Did your dad put you in therapy because you live in a delusional fantasy world or what?" I cracked a smile. "Shut up." Her smile widened at me. "I'll make you a deal. The day you get Cullen, and by Cullen, I mean Dr. 'I-can-make-you-come-by-just-smiling-at-you' Cullen, to beg you to sleep with him, I'll eat an entire meal, with dessert, mind you, without tossing it five minutes afterwards." "Well now you've ruined it. How could I call myself your friend if my happiness cost you those calories?" Angela rolled her eyes. She looked like she was going to say something else, but didn't get the chance. Dr. Cullen made his way over to us and gave me a dazzling smile. Part of me swooned and the other part of me was annoyed at my new found ability to swoon over all things Cullen. "Bella," he said smoothly. "Your father is concerned that perhaps you're not eating enough." Angela's eyes widened. And I rolled mine. "What?" "He's concerned that" And then I remembered last Friday night. "I missed one meal." Thankfully at that very moment, Jacob found me and told me that it was my turn with Dr. Hale. Let the fun that was therapy begin. Of course, Hale was waiting for me, stupid little notebook on her lap. "Hello, Bella." I wondered if they taught shrinks how to speak like that in school. All calming and soothing. "Hi." I plopped down in the chair and let my eyes lock onto hers. I wondered if we were going to play the staring game today. I didn't have to wait long for the answer. "How was your trip to Olympia, Bella?" "Good." Did she ask Edward that question? What was his answer? Did he tell her that I practically assaulted him before getting out of the car?

She smiled. "That's great. I think Edward enjoyed it too." After a moment of silence, she spoke again. "Just to be clear, we do have goals for you here, Bella." I quirked a brow at her. "First, I would like to preface this conversation but telling you that it doesn't take a lot of effort to recognize some of the trauma you've undergone as you've grown up." My teeth clenched. "It is also very clear that you are reluctant to talk about it, any of it. I'm not asking you to talk to me because I'm a psychiatrist, Bella. I'd like you to talk to me because in the long run it would be far better for you to work some of these things out with a trained professional." I shook my head. She didn't know shit. What she had were assumptions. "What things are you talking about?" I really wasn't in the mood for this. I was tired. I didn't care what goals she had for me. I didn't really care what she knew about me or my past and I didn't want to hash out issues that were nothing more than history now. "I'd like to talk about some of the broken bones and contusions that are very clearly visible on some of your x-rays." "I'm clumsy." Hale shook her head. "I don't believe you." "I don't care if you do." "Why are you protecting your mother? Your father has custody now. She can't hurt you here." I looked down at my hands as they picked at the worn fabric of the jeans covering my knee. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Bella." I looked up. I hated her. I just wanted her to drop it. I didn't understand why she wanted me to talk about my mother. If she and Dr. Cullen had figured out where my broken bones had come from, then why the hell did I need to talk about it? I rolled my eyes when she just sat there looking at me. "Can't you at least start with an easy topic? Maybe just pretend that trust is something that needs to be built." "Do you have a hard time trusting people?" Narrowing my eyes at her, I shook my head. How the fuck did this lady get through school with those asinine questions? "What do you think?" Dr. Bitch's lips pursed together and she acted as though she was truly studying me. "I think you only trust yourself. I think your trust is very hard to win but once someone has it, you give it to them freely." She was so damn wordy. "I don't know about all that, but if you think that I'm just going to trust you because you've got some medical degree or something, you're an idiot." I hated that smile. Did she give everyone that smile or what? Did she really think that I was fooled by her lame attempt at friendliness? "You're right, Bella." Of course I was right. I didn't need her to validate it. "If you're uncomfortable about jumping right into the hard stuff, let's talk about a lighter subject."

I shrugged in an attempt to let her know she could try it. "How are you liking Forks High? I know you have Biology with Edward and Photography with Alice, but how are you transitioning?" That was what she wanted to talk about now? I was beginning to wonder if Hale was a trained psychiatrist at all. "School's fine." "I think it's great that you take Photography. I've always thought that having a creative outlet is vital. Perhaps some day you'll show me your work." The rest of the session went the same way. Hale kept asking me small questions, unrelated to my past, my mother or what she perceived as my issues. Group was boring as fuck. Jake's partner, Leah, spoke a little bit about something. I didn't know what exactly, maybe something about being picked last for dodge ball as a kid or something ridiculously stupid like that. Honestly, I didn't want Group to end. The end of Group meant that I would be alone with Edward and I didn't want that. I was already entirely too wrapped up in him. He should've just been Bronze Cullen and not Edward who liked Russian novels and music and lived in Chicago with a heroin addict mother who shot herself in the head. I sighed deeply. It was no use. I was already attached to the good looking social outcast who stuttered and didn't smile enough. I knew it. I knew there wasn't any stopping how I felt about him. Or that I felt any way about him at all. The only thing I could do was stop myself from acting like a fucking fool. So when Group was over, I looked over at Edward and saw him sitting there as usual as everyone else got up and headed to various parts of the house. I waited. I waited until his head finally lifted and his green eyes found mine. Still, I didn't move, even my face was frozen in place. His brow creased and his tongue flicked out over his lower lip quickly, his hands rubbing up and down on his thighs. I was making him nervous. Edward's mouth opened slightly before closing again. He let out a breath. Still, I waited. It wasn't until he tilted his head to the side and nodded towards the stairs that I let myself move. I felt my lips curl up, satisfied that I didn't break first. Briefly, I caught sight of his uneven smile as he stood. Silently, I followed him up the staircase and down the hall to the only comfortable room in the Cullen house. It wasn't until we were in Edward's room that I spoke. My eyes were fixed on the wall, but I knew he was looking at me. With a short nod towards the instruments on the wall, I said, my voice all soft and girly, "Play something for me." ...

Chapter 13: Left to Lie E POV I don't think my brain started working again until Bella had disappeared into her house. I was such an idiot! She'd kissed me and I hadn't been prepared for it. I was equally unprepared for her roaming hand on my leg. I was in shock for a moment because the possibility of her initiating something like that with me had never crossed my mind.

I sat at the curb outside Bella's house for far longer than was appropriate, and had to force myself to pull away before her father came out to arrest me for loitering or stalking or something. But even at my house, I sat in the car for nearly a half hour before getting out. It would have been extremely embarrassing to answer questions about how my day in Olympia went while sporting a relatively painful erection. But even after a good thirty minutes of trying to will it away in the car, it continued, so I had no other choice but to go inside and hope that no one noticed. I had the bag from the book store to keep in front of me, but thankfully, I didn't need it. The house was quiet when I walked in. I had expected Carlisle to be waiting at the door for me, checking me out for any outward signs of anxiety or stress. Dear God, he would have found one! Or if not Carlisle, I thought perhaps Alice would be waiting at the foot of the steps to interrogate me about how pretty I thought Bella was. Again, the evidence would have spoken for itself. Thankful for the non-ambush, I rushed up to my room, letting the bag of books drop to the floor as I locked my door. I was such a freak. A normal teenager could have thought about baseball, grandmothers or dead puppies or some other clichd thing to get his dick under control. No, not me. Of course, as usual, once it sprung, it had no intentions of leaving willingly. It had happened before, most notably after the thing with Jessica Stanley. But this was different. This time it wouldn't go away, no matter what I did. There were no real words in the English language for how painful something like a hard-on could be after hours and hours. I did what I could to relieve the situation, but it had never been natural for me to masturbate. It wasn't something I was prone to do and while I knew that normal males enjoyed the practice, some of them probably too much, I'd never considered myself normal at all. I was feeling so desperate after a hot shower and multiple attempts at making it go away, that I was beginning to consider getting someone else involved. Well, not involved or anything, but finding someone I could ask for help. Although I was sure that Emmett knew everything there was to know about sex and its associated topics, he was definitely out. There was no way I would ever talk about something like this with him., much less solicit his advice. But there was always Carlisle. I hated even thinking about talking to him about the depth of my dysfunction. But no matter how much fear I felt at even the thought of exposing my situation, he probably had some kind of drug stashed away that could help me. While I knew that it had been Bella, her lips and her hand that had caused the response, I had no idea why it was that it would last this long and not dissipate. I had thought of Bella in every inappropriate way while fisting my erection, but as the hours drifted by it became too painful for me to even touch. I had to go talk to Carlisle. I had to hope that he had something that could alleviate the situation. It took everything I had to force myself to stand up and walk to his room. It was late and Carlisle had been working so many hours at the hospital. I felt bad for having to disturb his sleep and to be honest, I didn't want to. But the issue in my pants had yet to fade, so I knocked gently. My jaw clenched as I waited. I heard a thump and a rustle. My heart started to accelerate. This was a horrible idea. But I had no one else to turn to. Behind the closed doors, there was a murmur and I wondered if Carlisle was talking to himself. Had I not been pre-occupied with the pain I was experiencing, I would have realized sooner that Carlisle might not have been alone. I shouldn't have knocked. I should have just dealt with the situation on my own. How stupid could I

be? But before I could pivot and return to my room, the door creaked open. "Edward?" Carlisle whispered. The door was just barely open as he stuck his head out. There was a slight rustling of covers behind him. His robe showed signs of being hastily tugged on and his face showed no signs of having been asleep just moments ago. This was excruciatingly embarrassing. Thankfully he didn't look anywhere but at my face. "What's wrong?" My eyes drifted behind him where I could see through the small space between his hunched shoulder and the doorjamb. There was foot visible, sticking out from his bed. A female foot and suddenly I felt even more inept, even more stupid and even more embarrassed than ever before. "N-n-n-n-nothing." I tried to say it quickly, but nothing I ever said came quickly. "Ssssssorry." Carlisle peaked behind him and I turned to go. His hand on my shoulder made me jump. I definitely did not want to be touched in this state. "Edward? What's" "N-n-n-nothing," I said again, this time louder. "I-I'm f-f-fiiine." I didn't bother to turn around, I just moved very, very quickly back to my bedroom. With the door shut and locked behind me, I realized that I was back to where I started. I very carefully sank down onto my bed and thought about everything I possibly could that wasn't related to sex. It took another half an hour before my mind settled on something that could possibly work. It was already on my mind and now was the perfect time to relive it. As I thought about the image of my blood-and-brain-splattered door back in Chicago, the physical pain I felt lessened. ... I awoke on Sunday to knocking on my door. Glancing at the clock, I couldn't be upset. It was past noon and whoever it was that was waking me had given me the opportunity to get up on my own. It had been a long day and even longer night. It had been the wee hours of the morning before my erection subsided enough to allow me to sleep. "Edward, I'm not going to stand out here forever, you know. I don't care what Dad says, I'll open this door and drag you out." I sighed deeply, shoving the covers off of my legs as I rolled out of bed. I had to put up with Emmett waking me up five days a week and now on Sunday too? Before I moved to the door, I looked down, double checking that my hard-on hadn't returned in my sleep. Thankful that it hadn't, I moved to the door, unlocking and opening it. "W-w-what?" Emmett smiled his large, dopey smile and pointed to his head. "Alice is giving haircuts today and if you don't hurry, she'll decide to give you a bowl cut." I rolled my eyes, but nodded to him. "R-R-Rosalie's going t-t-to be p-p-p, upset." I nodded to his hair. Rosalie was fairly vocal about her enjoyment of Emmett's hair. Not that I wanted to know, but apparently it felt good when she ran her hands through it. He shrugged. "She'll get over it. Besides, I like it when she's pissed."

I held up a hand before he started to explain to me once again the wonders of make up sex with Rosalie. I'd heard it too many times. I really didn't want to go down that road today. "I-I-I'll be d-d-d-down in a m-m-m-mmmm" "Minute, got it. I'll tell Alice to choose something other than a mullet or bowl cut." I watched as he turned and retreated down the hall before I shut the door and locked it. Looking down, I saw that the bag of books was still down by the door where I had dropped it last night. I bent down and retrieved it and as I moved to the bookcase to create a space for the new Austen books, I very carefully trained my thoughts on something other than Bella. There was no need to accidentally excite myself. Not after last night. ... Monday was the beginning of a strange and confusing week at school. Bella didn't speak to me at all on Monday, nor did she look at me more than once. The smile she gave me wasn't a real smile. I didn't understand it. I thought our trip to Olympia had gone well. And she had kissed me at the end of it, not the other way around. And then on Tuesday we had to complete an assignment together and again, she barely acknowledged my presence. Maybe my inability to be normal had cost me her respect. Maybe she realized after Saturday that I had absolutely nothing to offer her. Maybe she regretted even asking me to Olympia with her. It could have been any number of things that had instigated her regret. It could have been my failure to return her kiss at the end. It could have been my inept speaking. Perhaps it had been the fact that I had stupidly told her all that stuff about my mother. I was a social leper and Bella Swan had finally figured it out. When I had entered Ms. Rice's office that day, I was in no mood to read children's books. The word 'depressed' didn't even begin to cover the depths of my current emotion. I hated my stuttering. I hate my family history. I hated Carlisle and Esme for forcing me to talk to Bella. I hated just about everything. So when Ms. Rice asked me if I'd like to pick the book today, I crossed my arms over my chest and refused to speak. She tried and I felt bad. I hated that Ms. Rice took my silence as her failure, but I had nothing to say. I didn't speak to anyone that day. The worried looks on Carlisle's and Alice's faces didn't escape me, but there was nothing to talk about. I didn't want to hear my own stuttering, stammering voice. I didn't want to hear or acknowledge the verbal ineptitude that I was sure had pushed Bella away. It was on Wednesday that Carlisle decided that he was concerned enough to call Esme. Once again, I found myself in Carlisle's study pinned to the overstuffed chair by the weight of her eyes. "Edward, what has you silent again?" Everything, I mentally answered her. "Did something happen last weekend? Did something happen on your trip to Olympia? Was Bella?" I fought against my urge to speak, but I lost the battle. If I didn't say something, Esme would come up

with something all on her own. She would decide that something horrible had happened in Olympia and that Bella had somehow caused me to regress. She would tell Carlisle and then I'd never be allowed out of the house or allowed to be alone in the house again. "N-n-no. I-I'm ffffffine, Es-Esme." Clasping her hands in her lap, she leaned forward, piercing me with her shrink stare. "I'm not stupid." I sighed, exaggerating the breath of air. "I-I'm ffffine." One day when I said that, she'd believe me. But not today. "No, Edward, you're not." For a moment, she was silent and I watched as her expression changed. It was as if she were deciding something. Finally, her face shifted back into a neutral look. "Why did you go to Carlisle's room last Saturday night?" My eyes widened. He told her about that? Why would he mention something sooh! And the n I realized that it could have very well been her foot I saw sticking out of the sheets that night. I didn't have an issue with Esme and Carlisle being together. It made sense to a certain degree, but just the thought about what I had interrupted And now I was sitting across from her. "Edward?" I was tired. I was tired of being different. Even if I had a horrible childhood, why couldn't I have at least passed as normal, like Emmett? Why did I have to be the one with no friends? Why did I have to be the person Mike Newton made fun of? "I-I w-w-want t-t-to be n-normal." I winced as the words drew involuntarily from my mouth. They were out there now and Esme was all too ready to pounce on them. "What's normal, Edward?" I shook my head at her, rolling my eyes up towards the ceiling. She knew what normal was. It was everything that I wasn't. I wished that I could have taken my bumbled words back, but I couldn't. I had to sit there while Esme scrutinized me, probably making mental notes about my posture or how the fingers of my right hand picked absently at the skin on my left. "Edward, this notion you have about what is 'normal' is keeping you from seeing that normal isn't the same for everyone. It's a very subjective concept. You are as normal as you'll ever be." Great. That was just perfect. Basically I was screwed beyond belief and there was no way that I would be able to be anything other than what I was right now. Again I shook my head. I'd already said too much to her. I couldn't do much more harm. "N-n-n-no. I-I-I" I looked at her. Her appearance radiated nothing but patience, so I tried to articulate what I truly wanted out of life. "I-I w-w-want t-t-to ttttalk liiiiike n-normal p-p-people d-do." Running both hands down my face, I let them fall to my lap as I closed my eyes. "I-I w-want to have f-f-friends." I heard her sigh but I couldn't bring myself to look at her again. I didn't want to see her face as she processed what I had said. I didn't want to talk to her. Why I had said anything at all was beyond me. "You have friends, Edward." I shook my head in response. "I know for a fact that Jasper and Rosalie consider you a friend. And what about Emmett and Alice?" "Th-they h-ha-have to p-p-p-put up w-w-with me. Th-they h-have to liiiike me." I opened my eyes and fixed them on picture behind Esme's head, enabling me to look past her but still see her.

She smiled as a mother would smile. If she had been sitting closer, perhaps she would have ruffled my hair. "People don't do what they don't want to do. We all like you because we want to like you. And what about Bella?" I shook my head, lowering my eyes once more to my lap. I didn't want to talk about Bella. She wasn't my friend and I couldn't expect her to be. She'd given it a shot on Saturday and whatever it was, I had failed. ... Thursday I watched as Mike Newton asked Bella to the Homecoming dance in front of me. It would be a complete and total lie if I said that I wasn't extremely happy that she turned him down flat. When she finally made it to our table, I kept my eyes down. It wasn't until Friday when I finally felt some hope. She was confusing and I had no clue as to what went on inside her head, but as the Group session with Esme ended, Bella was frozen, like a rock. It took forever for her to finally look at me and when she did, she didn't say anything. I had no idea what she was doing or why she was doing it. I nearly panicked. Was she trying to tell me that she had no intentions of keeping up the pretense of being my friend? Was she just being defiant? She was making me insanely nervous. I already felt like a complete idiot and fool around her. But then in a last ditch effort, I nodded towards the stairs and she finally let her lips form a smile. I felt like I could breathe again. My nerves were still getting the better of me as she followed me to my room. We were always good in my room and as I entered it, I hoped with everything I had that we could just be like before and forget the strangeness of the week. It took her a minute, but finally she spoke. "Play something for me." I had never heard her voice like that before. It wasn't confident like usual. Her voice sounded as though it held such sadness or was it resignation? It was soft and it made it seem like she actually thought that I might have said no to request. I followed her eyes to my guitars and for some reason, my nerves settled down immediately. Taking her usual seat on the couch, she watched me as I pulled down my favorite Gibson and sat down at the desk chair. Although I kept my eyes cast down towards the floor, I took a few glances up at her through my eyelashes as I played. She just sat there watching me, her knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs. I couldn't read her face, so I had no real indication of if she thought I was good or if she liked what I was playing. I played someone else's song. It was too soon. Too soon to expose any more of myself by playing something for her that I had written. After I finished, I set my guitar down. I would hang it back up after she had gone. "That was nice," she said before turning her head to my book case. "I forgot Pride and Prejudice. Thanks for letting me borrow it." My eyes fixed on her hands. Her fingers were constantly moving. She rubbed the pads of her thumbs over the nails of her other fingers and then she clenched her hands into fists before uncurling them. She was justodd.

It wasn't as if I had a load of experience with her, but she seemed different, not as relaxed as she normally was. "A-are you o-okay?" I asked before I thought better of it. Finally her eyes found mine and she smiled. "Yeah," she answered, her voice airy. "Why?" I shook my head, but watched her closely. "I'm justyou know, it's Fridayand I'm here." Oh. I could see where that wouldn't be enjoyable for her. She was vibrant and fun and here she was, stuck with me. I looked down, feeling like once again there was no hope for me. But when she spoke again, I forced myself to look at her and her whole demeanor had changed. "Not that I'm upset about being here, you know, with you. That's not what I meant at all. It's just this fucking therapy shit. I mean, really. Between Leah's anger and Angela's vomit, I don't know what I'm supposed to do." She gave me a tentative smile that widened when I returned it. "I mean, I know this shit can't be fun for you either, right?" I shook my head in response and she continued. "I mean, you've got be around all this shit constantly." Bella shifted on the couch, bending her legs to sit cross-legged. She leaned towards me. "So give me the scoop. I'm sure it was all covered in Group before I got here, so there's no harm in you telling me. I'd find out anyway." I didn't follow what she was asking. "Th-the sc-scoop?" Rolling her eyes, she said, "Yeah, the scoop about the other Fuck Ups in our Group. What's up with them? Why are they here?" When I didn't respond, creasing my brow instead, she continued. "Like your brother or Hale's kids." While I didn't feel exactly comfortable telling other people's stories, she was right. Nothing I would tell her hadn't been covered openly before. There would really be no harm in it. "E-Emmett was en-en-engineered b-by his r-reeeal parents." "What?" she asked with a little half smile on her face as if she didn't believe me. I nodded. "Th-they m-made him in a l-lab t-to b-b-be a m-match for his older b-b-b-brother." "A match?" "A d-donor." I watched Bella's face as she wrapped her mind around the word. "His b-brother w-was sick. H-he n-needed all sssssorts of t-t-transplants and s-s-so they m-m-made Em-Emmett." Her eyes widened. "B-but w-when the t-transplants f-f-f-faaaa, were unsuccessful, h-his p-parents w-weren't h-h-happy with him." "Are you fucking serious?" Her face conveyed her shock. I nodded. "His parents fucking grew him in a lab and then harvested organs from him?" "W-well that w-was the p-plan. Th-they took p-part of his liver and sssssome marrow, but w-when it d-didn't w-work" There was no need to finish off the sentence, I was sure she got the idea and I really didn't want to talk about what his parents put him through after that. "B-but h-he wasn't gr-grown in a l-lab, Be-Bella. He w-was" "Yeah, I get it." Her eyes were narrowed as she slowly shook her head. "They spliced a fertilized egg

with some super DNA or something and then stuck him in his mom's uterus. No wonder he's like Superman." I smiled. Emmett was like Superman. He was big and strong and great at everything. And typically no one saw his pain and hurt but every once in a while, when it got too much, Emmett couldn't reel it in. Carlisle invested in a punching bag for the basement gym when he came home to a demolished wall and five broken bones in Emmett's right hand. Not wanting to answer her question about why Jasper and Rosalie were involved in therapy as they weren't my adopted siblings, I thought of what I had been wanting to ask her all week. "Be-Bella?" "Hmm?" "Ar-are w-we f-f-fr-friends?" ...

Chapter 14: Friends E POV Bella just stared at me blankly, her eyes blinking a few times, after I asked her if we were friends. For a moment, I felt a flash of panic rise up within me. Maybe I shouldn't have asked. Maybe she was going to say no. Maybe she was going to laugh at me. But my panic subsided just as the edges of her mouth curled up. She shrugged, but said, "Of course we're friends." While her words gave me some comfort, they also stirred up a plethora of follow up questions. "W-w-why d-d-don't y-y-you lllllll" I sighed deeply. It seemed as though I wouldn't be able to get anything out, but I had to keep trying. "Why don't I what?" "T-talk t-to me at sc-school?" The crease in her brow instantly faded as she shook her head. Running her hands through her hair, Bella let out a low breath before biting her bottom lip. "This week was just It wasn't you, Edward. I wasn't trying to be rude." What she said wasn't a reason or an explanation. It was avoidance and it was clear to me what the problem was. Obviously she thought we could be friends outside of school. I didn't blame her for that. I was sure she didn't want to be tied to a social pariah like me. "I-is it b-because of h-h-h-how I t-t-t-taaaaalk?" Bella sighed and looked extremely annoyed. I felt incredibly small and wished for the millionth time that I could be like Emmett and Alice and just be comfortable and fit in. "You're not listening, Edward. It's not you, okay?" Shaking her head again, she pointed to herself. "I'm not Look, we're friends, okay? And I don't care about your stutter. I'd much rather listen to you talk than that idiot Newton. But I'm not like all the other kids at school, okay? I don't" She huffed and it almost sounded like a growl.

"I don't talk to friends at school, Edward. I mean, really, who have you seen me talk to? Mike? I think you can already figure out that he's not even close to being my friend. And everyone else is justfiller." While it was true that typically I only really saw her talk to Newton and it was never in a friendly way, what she was saying didn't quite fit. "W-what about J-J-Jacob?" Bella ran her hands through her hair again and then pulled it to the side, leaving one side of her neck exposed. I tried not to look. I tried not to focus on how smooth her skin was. I tried not to see that I could pick up the rhythm of her heart by watching the vein in her neck thump. I tried not to see the four small indentations that looked like the tines of a fork. "You want to come out to the woods with us and smoke pot at lunch, Edward? 'Cause you're invited. Jacob's Well, he's a family friend. I used to shove him in the mud when I was a kid." Bella stood up, turning her back to me as she began looking at my books again. I watched as her slender hand glided along the spines. Her fingernails were short, unlike Alice or Rosalie's and she had little nicks and scars on her fingers and hands. "I never took you for someone who wanted to talk at school. Every time you do and a dick like Newton says something, you go all quiet and look like you can't breathe. But if you really want to have public conversations, we can" "N-no." That was not what I wanted. She was right about Newton and right about me. "I-I-I just w-w-wanted to know if w-w-we were f-friends." Bella turned around and leveled her eyes at me. "Well, why wouldn't we be?" Because she was so much better than me. Because she was normal and I wasn't. Because she could be friends with anyone and I pretty much had nothing to offer. I shrugged. But if I was going to take her words at face value, then I could assume that we were in fact friends. Asking her to do something with me as friends should be no big deal. After all, she did ask me to go see movies with her last weekend. So why did my chest feel like it was about to explode? If she already confirmed we were friends, why was I dreading rejection like this? "B-Be-Bella?" Her eyebrows rose. "D-d-do y-y-you w-w-w-want t-t-to g-go" "Edward, don't." Bella winced and then her eyes went wide. "Please don't." Any and all hope I had that I could just be a normal person and have a normal friendship with someone fell at her words. I hadn't even been able to properly ask her. I had only managed to get out half of the question. "Please don't ask me to that stupid dance. I don't They really aren't my thing." And hope swelled again. "I-I w-w-wasn't g-g-going to ask a-a-ab-bbout the dance," I finished quickly. Instantly she looked relieved. "Good," she breathed. "Because they're kind of lame, don't you think?" I just gave her a hesitant smile in answer. What I had in mind didn't require any dancing or streamers in the high school gym. I'd never gone to a dance. They very well could have been lame, but I highly doubted that going to a dance with Bella would be lame at all. Although I couldn't really picture her in the dresses Alice or Rosalie usually wore, I could, in fact,

imagine her in something that was not only appropriate for a high school dance, but that would actually befit her personality. "What were you going to ask then?" I drew my thoughts away from Bella in a casual black dress and back to the matter at hand. "W-w-would y-you g-g-go sssssomewhere w-with me?" Bella gave a little chuckle and before I could misinterpret it, she answered. "Somewhere? That's a little vague, Edward. Somewhere could be Mexico or somewhere could be the library. Both of which I would say yes to." I felt my lips curl up into a smile. She'd go to another country with me! I felt triumphant, as if I had actually asked her to cross the boarder with me. "I-I-I d-don't know w-where. Just ssssomewhere. Just to h-h-h-h-hang out." I took a few deep breaths after getting out my words. The word 'hang' was nearly blocked and I thanked God that I was able to push it out. "Yeah, sure." "D-do you w-w-want to g-g-go to-tomorrow?" The crease returned to her forehead. "Oh, shit, I can't." I must have involuntarily made a face because she smiled at me. "I'm not just blowing you off, Edward. Unless you want to drop some acid with me tomorrow, I'm going to be going solo." That wasn't the response I had anticipated. I had expected the normal girl let down responses I'd heard on TV. 'I have to wash my hair.' 'My dog's sick.' 'You smell like cheese.' "W-w-w-why a-ar-are you g-g-g-going to d-dr" "Because Forks is a boring-ass town and I haven't tripped in a while." "Do y-y-you lllllllike i-it?" I sighed and rolled my eyes. Obviously she liked it. I was such an idiot. "I-I m-mean, w-w-why d-d-do y-you lllllike it?" Bella's expression changed and when she spoke, she was defensive. "Why don't you tell Newton to fuck off?" "I-I-I w-w-wasn't j-j-judging you, B-B-Bella. J-just asking." Flopping down onto my couch, Bella raised one hand up into the air, her eyes watching as she made her fingers dance. "You obviously don't like that I enjoy drugs." I wanted to protest, to let her know again that I wasn't judging her, but she wouldn't let me speak. "I partake in pharmaceutical and psychotropic drugs because I like that version of reality better. Have you ever done any drugs?" "Wa-wa-wa," was all I could get out, so I shook my head in answer. "No painkillers, no nitrous oxide at the dentist?" "W-w-well, yeah, I-I've h-had p-painkillers b-befffffore." And sedatives more times than I could count. And there was that night on the beach when I had tried smoking marijuana. "Didn't you feel numb, I mean, not just whatever was aching or in pain, but like, mentally numb?" I

nodded. "I like that. It makes everything a little fuzzy around the edges. Acid's awesome because reality shifts for just a moment and the impossible happens. This reality," she said, waving her hand around the air as if to indicate my room, my house, this town, this world, "is just an illusion, Edward. Even something as simple as smoking a little weed taps you into somethingmore, something better." I shook my head, not wanting to judge her but needing her to know that I completely disagreed. "M-m-my mmm-mm-m-mom" Bella sat up and trained her eyes on me. "Your mom was a heroin addict. It's not the same thing. I don't do anything that's addictive or that will permanently distort reality." I failed to see the difference, but I kept my mouth shut. "Look, I've done coke a handful of times and I wouldn't touch smack for anything. But, Jesus, Edward, you wouldn't know, but rolling on ecstasy changes everything. I've never felt so loved andloving." Bella's face shifted into something longing before she looked down. "II don't expect you to understand it and if it's not your thing, that's cool, but I like it." She looked back up, her expression once again neutral before her lips curled up into a smile. "So tomorrow I'm dropping acid and going on a little spirit walk in the woods." My heart began to race as I felt my eyes go wide. My breathing changed and all the sudden I felt panic. "In th-th-the w-w-w-woods? B-B-B-Bella, y-y-y-y, wwwwwhat if y-y-you g-g-g-get l-l-l" Her brow creased once again. "Calm down, Edward," she said, her voice soft but full of concern. She was worried about me. "Seriously, slow your breathing down. You're going to pass out." It wouldn't have been the first time. I did my best to focus on my breathing, slowing dragging air in and letting it out even slower, but I still felt shaking. My lungs were tight. Bella was going to go into the woods alone while hallucinating. People got lost in the woods all the time, without acid to further hinder their progress. She couldn't do that. I didn't want to hear about her going missing, and I didn't want to see the search party form. "B-B-B-Bella." Bella stood and crossed the room to me and before I realized that she was even coming over to me, I felt her hand in my hair. Instantly, my eyes closed and my body relaxed just a little. My breathing slowed, as did my heart rate. How did she know how to do that? "Edward, I'll be fine. I promise. There's woods right outside my house. I swear that I won't go far." ... Once again, I sat in front of Esme, waiting for her to get to what she really wanted to talk about. We had topic danced for the past twenty minutes. Finally, she said, "It was a difficult week." Even though it was a statement, I knew she was asking me to validate it. "Y-y-yes." "Because you don't feel normal? You feel different than the other kids?" I looked down at the carpet but nodded. "Do you only feel different because of your speech issue?" I shook my head. I didn't want to tell Esme anything. I wanted to be in my room. It didn't matter what I

wanted because my mouth opened, as if on its own, and I heard my voice. "I t-t-told B-B-Bella a-a-ab-b-b-b," I paused, but I couldn't take back the words. Esme would make me finish the sentence, so I continued. "A-a-about m-my mmmmmm-mm-mom." Looking up, I saw the shock and surprise written on Esme's face. "Oh?" I nodded. "And how do you feel about that?" she asked. I shrugged, not really knowing how I felt. "Bella is obviously someone you feel you can trust." Her brow was furrowed as she studied me. "That was a big topic for you to discuss with her." "Y-yeah." I shouldn't have told Esme about telling Bella. Now we would have to talk about it. "How did she react?" I thought about her loud voice and the scowl on her face. "Sh-she w-w-was m-mad." "At you or at your mother?" "A-at my mm-mm-mom." "And how did that make you feel?" I let my eyes slip closed. It was always easier to answer Esme's incessant questions when I wasn't looking at her. "B-B-Bella d-doesn't kn-know." "What doesn't she know?" "M-my mmm-mm-mom. Sh-she th-thinks my mmmmmom w-was b-bad." "Did she tell you that?" Opening my eyes, I shook my head. "B-but m-my mmm-mm-mmom w-w-wasn't b-bad." The corners of Esme's lips curled up just slightly as she shook her head. "No. Your mother wasn't bad. She was sick." "I-I d-don't think B-Bella understands th-that." "Addiction and depression are illnesses. Your mother didn't make a choice to be sick." I realized at that moment that my breathing had sped up and my fingers ached. I looked down at my right hand and saw that my fingers were digging into the arm of the chair. The knuckles were white. "I-I kn-know." "Breathe deeply, Edward." I closed my eyes again and tried to do as she asked. "Did you talk to Bella about your father?" Every muscle in my body seemed to tighten at her question. My lungs seized and I gasped for breath. "N-n-n-n-no. P-p-p-pleeeeease d-d-don't, Esme."

"Okay, Edward." Her voice was soft and soothing, the way a mother's voice should be. I forced my thoughts away from my parents and wondered if this was what Esme sounded like when Jasper and Rosalie were young and had a bad dream. "Focus on breathing, Edward. Relax and try to calm down." She was silent for a while as I did my best to regulate my breathing. It wasn't until I opened my eyes again that she spoke. "Have you written anything new?" I knew she was asking about music compositions. I hadn't felt into coming up with anything new lately, so I shook my head. "A-Aliiiice s-says J-Jasper hhhas a n-new m-m-m-motorcycle." I hoped my attempt at getting Esme to talk instead of me worked. Esme smiled. "He does. I don't understand the draw, but it seems to make him happy and he's eighteen, so I don't have a lot of say in what he spends his money on. Does Bella mention her mother?" I sighed and then shook my head. "N-no." Besides drugs, Bella didn't really mention a lot about anything. ... Most of Saturday was spent lying on my bed, worrying about Bella. I had never dropped acid before, but I didn't think I needed to in order to know that it was an incredibly stupid idea to do it alone and somewhere you could get lost. When I wasn't actively worrying about Bella hallucinating in the forest, I was thinking about her hands in my hair. No one but Alice knew how just that simple act could calm me down. How had she known about that? I knew Bella and Alice shared Photography class, but there was no way Alice would tell her something like that. And why would Bella have wanted to know something like that anyway? But however she knew, her fingers sliding through my hair felt utterly fantastic. I wondered how I could get her to do that again. And then I felt like a creep. Like a creepy creep planning out various ways to get a girl to touch him. And then I felt stupid. Thinking about Bella and touching wasn't going to lead to anything productive and I knew from the past that it would just prove to be painful and send me into a fit of depression. I didn't need to spend another night hoping to all that was holy that my erection would fade. On Sunday I waited until eleven in the morning to call Bella. Carlisle had Chief Swan's number written down in the address book in his study. I thought eleven was enough time for someone to recover from tripping on acid. I dialed the numbers, going over what I was planning on saying. Although I thought about music in an attempt to calm myself, when I heard Bella's father answer the phone, I froze. "Hello?" There was pause and I tried to force words out of my mouth but I only seemed to be able to make a clicking sound. "Hello?" he asked again, this time in a more irritated voice. Chief Swan sighed heavily before he hung up. I couldn't even use the phone like a normal human being. I hated being me. Trying again, I redialed the number. "Hello?" His voice was booming and more than just a little scary. "H-h-h-h"

"Who is this?" he demanded. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and let Schubert's Opus 90 Number 3 fill my head for just a moment before I opened my mouth to speak. "Ch-chief Swan? Th-th-this is E-E-Edw-w-ward C-C-Cullen." I hated my own name coming from my mouth. "C-c-c-c-can I t-t-talk t-t-to B-B-B-B" I choked on her name. "You want to talk to Bella?" "Y-y-yes, sir." "Hold on." There was a rustling sound and I heard footsteps and then a few knocks. I could hear Bella's father saying something about sleeping all day and then nothing for nearly a minute. "Mmmm?" "B-B-Bella?" There was a deep intake of air on the other side. "Edward?" Her voice was rough and slightly scratchy. "'Sup?" "I-I-I j-just w-w-wanted to make sure y-y-you w-were okay." A breathy chuckle answered me. "Of course I'm okay. I told you I would be." There wasn't much more for me to say. Perhaps if I had courage I'd ask her to do something with me today. If I was really forward, I would ask her to run her hands through my hair again. And if I could speak like a normal person, I would say anything just to keep her on the line. But since I wasn't courageous, or forward, or normal, I settled for, "O-o-okay. Sssssee y-you t-t-tomorrow." I hung up without waiting for her to say goodbye. I was just as awkward on the phone as I was in person and she shouldn't have to be subjected to that. The rest of my day was spent listening to music and thinking of her. ...

Chapter 15: Hi Good B POV I opened the door to put the phone back after Edward hung up and found Charlie standing right outside the door. "What?" My voice was rough and raw even to my own ears. It had been cold and damp in the woods, and after tripping all day yesterday out there, I'd probably come down with a cold. That, or I'd been yelling and screaming the whole day, but I had no recollection of that. "Your boyfriend has a pretty awful case of stuttering."

I sighed and pushed the phone out in his direction. "Way to state the obvious, Charlie." Shaking my head, I shivered just slightly as his hand brushed mine as he took the phone. "And he's not my boyfriend." "You've been here a few weeks now and you haven't had one phone call and then all of the sudden, out of the blue, this delinquent of yours calls. The same delinquent you went to Olympia with, mind you, and you're going to tell me he's not your boyfriend?" "Whatever, Charlie." I moved to close the door in his face, but then opened it again. "He's my lab partner in Biology, okay? He's the one your esteemed doctors Hale and Cullen paired me with for therapy, got it?" "So he's not your boyfriend?" I just stared at him for a moment, giving him my best 'duh' look. "Yep, you can keep your shotgun on its rack for a little while longer." "It's okay if you do have a boyfriend though, Bella." He looked flustered and he shifted uncomfortably. "I mean it's okay if you have friends." "Whatever," I said again, not wanting a conversation with my normally laconic father. "Do you?" he asked quickly. "Do I what?" "Have friends, Bella." I rolled my eyes. "I mean, you don't bring anyone over and you never talk about" "We," I said, pointing to him and then back to myself, "don't talk, Charlie. It's not our thing. And it doesn't matter if I have friends. I don't need friends and if I had any you'd just call them delinquents." "Bella, you know I don't" I cut him off, already tired of his voice. He had about as much right to know shit about me as Dr. Bitch did. "I'm going back to bed." I stepped backwards and pushed the door closed, making sure to barricade it once more. I couldn't really get back to sleep. I kept thinking about Edward. I'd been trying to call him Bronze Cullen again in my head, but to no avail. I had been doing just fine ignoring him and more importantly my growing feelings for him until the end of group therapy on Friday. I'd made him work for it that time, not just going up to his room or engaging him first. And he did it. With just a light nod of his head towards the stairs, he had managed to make me come undone. And then he played guitar for me and it was exactly what I thought it would be. Perfect. I'd never been one to go all mushy over musicians or, hell, anyone for that matter, but when he played guitar for me, looking all nervous and shy, I melted. I, Bella fucking Swan, melted like ten year old girl at a Jonas Brothers concert. It wasdisgusting. And embarrassing. And fucking wrong. And if that hadn't been bad enough, he asked me if we were friends. And what was I supposed to say to that. 'No, we're not friends because I'd like to see your naughty bits and suck you off?' But the worst part of it all was that I didn't just want to fuck him. I wanted to hold his hand and shit. I wanted to

touch his face just to feel it on my finger tips. I was so fucking stupid with this boy. So when he asked me if we were friends, of course I said yes. Edward walked around every day with this look upon his face like he'd just had to put his puppy to sleep or someone had just insulted his dead grandmother. And for whatever reason, I didn't want to be the cause of that look. I wanted him to be happy, to smile. I felt so stupid. I couldn't believe that I was having urges to hold someone's hand. It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. I hated all that. Monday came ridiculously fast and I did my best to muddle through. I smiled at Edward in the hall and tried to keep my thoughts platonic. When that didn't work, I tried just thinking him as a purely sexual being, but that seemed off. Why couldn't I just see him as just another high school boy? Why the fuck did I have these impulses to be sweet and romantic with him? It was wrong, so fucking wrong. Despite the conflict within me, I promised myself that I would talk to him more than last week. He seemed to want that. Hell, maybe he needed that. Thankfully I wouldn't have to worry about talking to him until Biology. At lunch, I met Jacob in the woods as usual. He was sitting on our fallen tree, puffing on a blunt. I was surprised. It was the first blunt I'd seen him use. "What's up with that?" I asked as I sat down next to him. "No papers?" Jacob shrugged. "Someone owed me. Paid me with this." He took a hit and I laughed when his face twisted up. "Shut up," he said, his voice strained as he held the hit in. I took it from his outstretched hand. I hadn't hit a blunt in a long-ass time. They were usually party favors and not for everyday smokes. "How was your weekend?" "Fucked." "Why?" Jacob shook his head. "Fuckin' Billy." I passed the blunt back to him. "What happened?" "Fuckin' got tanked fishing with your dad Saturday and carried it through to Sunday." I hadn't known that Charlie had been drinking, but as I was out of it myself, it was no wonder. "Didn't you say he drinks a lot?" "Yeah, but" When he trailed off, I looked up at him. Jake looked sad. "But what?" He let out a harsh breath of air, his eyes just fixed on the glowing end of the blunt. "Nothing." I sighed. Was I supposed to pry? Could I just let it go without being a shitty person? Was I Jacob's friend? And if I was, wasn't it my duty to pull all the shit that was bothering him out? Before I could

even think about answering my own questions, he continued. "Sometimes he drinks too much, like even more than too much." "Doesn't he just pass out?" I wanted to tell Jake to hurry up and take a hit so that I could take another one too, but I thought it'd be rude. Shaking his head, he finally pulled another drag off the cigar and passed it to me. "No. He passes out normally, but when he drinks like thathe gets mean." I nearly choked on my hit. Why the hell was Jacob confiding in me? What? Did I have the words "trusted confidant" tattooed across my forehead? Did I radiate friendship? "Mean? What do you mean, like, he hits you?" He rolled his eyes. "Right, Bella, my father lifts himself out of his wheelchair and hits me. I'm about twice his size." "Well don't get fucking snarky, fuckstick, I just asked." "No, he gets mean, like, nasty mean. He starts calling my mom a whore and" "Your mom's dead." "No shit, Captain Obvious." "Again with the fucking snark." When his head hung down low, I mumbled, "Aw, shit, Jake." I nudged him with my shoulder. "Fuck him, Jake." He looked up, this time with a small smile. "Can I fuck you instead?" I beamed at him, happy that his mood had turned around. "Hell yeah, but you'll have to be quick. I have Biology." Jacob made no move to make with the sexing, so I took another hit. "Bella?" "Hmm?" "Do you want to go to Homecoming with me?" I couldn't help but laugh, coughing on the smoke as it released from my lungs. "Hell, no I won't go to the dance with you." His face fell and it was then that I realized he hadn't been joking. "Seriously? You're asking me to that lame-ass dance? Why?" He shrugged. "I'm a guy. You're a girl. Guys and girls go to dances." I felt my brow crease. "I don't." "Are you going with Cullen?" Holy Shit. Newton thought I was going with Jake and Jake thought I was going with Edward. Could it be any more like a romantic teen comedy? "Jesus, you don't fucking listen, do you? I just said that I don't go to dances, alright?" "Fine." He sulked.

"What's your deal?" Jacob shook his head. "Never mind. It was fucking stupid. Forget" He paused. "You gonna pass that blunt or what?" ... I made sure to smile at Edward when I saw him at our lab table. I didn't want him to think that we weren't friends. It wasn't his fault that my whole operating belief was being challenged. Again, I did my best to think of him as a purely platonic friend, but I'd never had many of those, so it was easier for me to imagine myself slowly working him over. His hair practically screamed sex-freak anyway. But by the end of the hour, I still was left just wanting to hold his hand. I wanted to run my hand through his hair again. I'd done it twice now and both times it seemed to calm him down or give him some kind of comfort or something. I wanted to see him smile. Rolling my eyes at my thoughts as the bell rang, I stood up and gathered my books. I remembered that friends usually parted ways with some form of verbal goodbye, so I turned back to him and found that he had stood too. Fuck, he looked nervous again. The dude clearly needed to relax. It was no wonder he had attacks. His eyes were fixed on Prick Newton's retreating form, but when he finally retrained them on me, he flashed me that sexy little crooked smile. I had to stop myself from keeling over. He had a tiny little scar above his top lip and I wanted to know how it felt under the pad of my index finger. Wait, did friends trace each other's scars? Before I could drool or attack him again, I smiled and quickly said, "See you." "Be-Be-Bella?" he called before I could do more than turn around. I faced him again. "Yeah?" "D-d-do you w-w-waaaant t-to d-do sssssomething th-this w-w-w-w-w, on Saturday?" I realized that I'd never given him the chance last Friday to ask me to hang out another day. We'd gotten too deep into a conversation about drugs. "Um, yeah, sure." Relief seemed to flood his features and the rise and fall of his chest slowed to a normal pace. "What do you want to do?" Again, his lopsided smile appeared. "I-I w-w-want to-to take you sssssomewhere." I looked around as the classroom started to fill up with kids from Mr. Banner's next class. "Where?" He was noticing the arrival of the other kids as well. "I-it's a p-place I-I-I f-f-found." "Hi, Bella!" I turned around and found myself face to face with Jessica. I nodded in greeting and watched as her eyes slid over to take Edward in. My eyes found him too and I watched as his eyes moved to look at his shoes. At some point, I was going to ask him about the great Stanley/Bronze Cullen Fuck, but this was not the time.

"I have to go. I need to be physically educated." I wondered if Edward needed in physical education and if he'd let me play teacher. I sighed softly and rolled my eyes at myself. I needed to get over this shit with Edward quick. "Later." I tried to move away, but Jessica grabbed my arm. "Angela, Lauren, and I are going to Port Angeles tomorrow to shop for dresses. You want to come?" I really, really didn't. But when Angela asked me on Tuesday to go with her, I couldn't say no. I was going soft. She begged and pleaded with me to go with her. She said that if she had to be in a car alone with Jessica and Lauren for an hour each way, her brain would melt. I joked and told her that it would at least make her a few pounds lighter. She rolled her eyes and then begged again. And that was how I found myself in the back of Jessica's crappy car, listening to how Lauren gave Thomas Wozniak a fucking rim job at some party last weekend. I mean, really, was that really necessary to share? We weren't even friends. I didn't know Thomas Wozniak, but if I ever met him, I swore I would ask him how he managed to get a stuck up bitch like Lauren to literally lick his ass. "I now have a new mental picture to use when I want to make myself throw up," Angela whispered to me as we walked behind Jessica and Lauren into the dress shop. I smiled. Angela was kind of awesome. "Um, why aren't you going to the dance again, Bella?" Jessica asked as she pushed up the strap for the third time. The blue dress she was in currently was for a much bustier girl, but Jessica seemed to think that a simple padded bra would fix it. "Because it sounds fucking stupid." "Aw," Lauren said as she turned away from the mirror for the first time in ten minutes. "Did no one ask you?" Rolling my eyes, I gave her a smirk. "Dances just aren't my thing." She frowned, her eyes narrowed. "Exactly what is your thing, Isabella?" I shook my head. "You couldn't handle it if I told you." Before Lauren could say anything else, Jessica turned to Angela. "That dress is so cute." Angela looked at herself in the mirror. She had been avoiding it since putting on the tight black garment. Turning to the side, she sighed. Angela turned towards me, but kept looking at the mirror. "Bella?" "It's nice, Ang." I could tell by her face that she wasn't happy with her body. I watched as her thin fingers picked at the fabric covering her abdomen. "I think you should get it." She finally looked at me, her eyes silently pleaded for something. "But" I shook my head. "You look really good in it." I stood up quickly, somewhat annoyed at myself for even caring about Angela and her stupid body image. "I'm going to the bookstore I saw up the road. I'll meet you guys in an hour."

Not waiting for their response, I left the boutique and wandered the streets of Port Angeles. I could have gone to the bookstore, but once the cool fresh air hit my face, I changed my mind and decided to take advantage of the opportunity to be alone. There was a park nearby, overlooking the water, so I found a nice secluded wooded area and packed up my one-hitter. I wouldn't have lasted another second with Jessica or Lauren unless I got my buzz on. They talked constantly and the topics of conversation were less than appealing. I was all about getting your sexual freak on or whatever, but I surely didn't need to hear about Lauren and Thomas and I would've died a moderately happy woman if I hadn't gotten the scoop about Mike Newton's curved cock and his nipple rot. But I was happy not to be stuck at home. My new fascination with Edward had taken over most of my moments of mental freedom. Sitting at home thinking about the line of Edward Cullen's lips would certainly not help me with anything. I was nice and high by the time I slipped the dugout back into my pocket and went walking on the boardwalk. I probably could have stopped with just two small hits, but I'd done six or so, which left me more than just slightly buzzed. My eyes were having trouble focusing I stumbled along. Usually pot didn't fuck me up this badly, but the boards on the ground were uneven and for being a cold evening, there were a surprising amount of people I had to dodge. "You okay there?" I looked up to find blue eyes staring directly into mine. I stumbled back slightly and took in the man before me and his hand shot out to steady me. He was clearly older, but not too old, with long blond hair. He was untraditional in his good looks. Both ears were pierced with hoops running through them and he had his labret pierced too. His arms looked strong and were covered in full sleeve tattoos. "I'm good," I finally said, my voice much softer than normal. "Hi Good, I'm James." ...

Chapter 16: Brown and Gray B POV It was getting late and I knew that I had to meet the girls soon, but I was enjoying the time I was getting to spend with this new friend. James and I had found a bench to sit down on and fell into easy conversation. His hands were clean but the fingernails were black underneath. When I asked about them, he confirmed my suspicion. He was an auto mechanic. Looking at his hands gave me another insight to who this man was: James wore a gold band on his left hand. There was no mistaking that he was married. It figures. As much as it should have, the fact that this man was married didn't deter me in the slightest from making subtle sexual innuendos. And it sure as hell didn't stop him from returning them, or from putting his hand on my leg.

When he asked, I said that I was from Sequim and that I was nineteen. He didn't ask much else and it wasn't difficult for me to recognize that he wasn't exactly interested in discerning the truth. Nor was he interested in anything much beyond what most men were interested in. But in all honesty, I didn't mind. It wasn't long before I was pressed up against the side of a building with his hands moving all over my body. I was still clothed and there was no flesh on flesh action except for the way his mouth attacked my neck. We were like that for a good long while until his cell phone rang. He muttered, "Fuck," before easing me down so that I could stand. While he lied to his wife on the phone, I straightened out my clothing and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "What time is it?" I asked when he hung up. "A quarter to eight." "Fuck. I have to go." He pressed me up against the wall again and whispered against my neck, "Me too." His hands moved to my tits as he ground his semi-hard cock into my stomach. "Give me your phone number." I shook my head. "Give me yours." He made a noise that sounded like a growl before nibbling on my earlobe. "I'll call you. I promise, but I have to go." It was only after another couple of minutes of dry humping that he finally let me go, writing his number down on an old receipt. After saying goodbye to the guy I'd just met, I moved quickly back to the dress boutique. Jessica and Lauren looked annoyed to see me, while Angela seemed genuinely relieved. "What the hell, Bella?" Lauren snapped. "Sorry." I shrugged at Lauren. "I lost track of time." "We were worried," Jessica added. "I mean, it's a safe town and all, but when we couldn't find you at the bookstore and" "Sorry," I said again, making sure they knew I was annoyed right back at them. "Whatever," Lauren sighed. "Let's just go." ... The rest of my week quickly fell into the same vicious cycle as always. School, home, sleep. At school, I got high, smiled at Edward, trying to talk to him as casually as possible, and only paid enough attention in class to not fail. Once I got home, it was all cleaning and cooking to stave off boredom and talking to Charlie only enough to keep him moderately satisfied and off my back. And sleep consisted of me barricading my bedroom door and letting myself get so exhausted that I finally couldn't keep myself from slipping into unconsciousness. Friday, the only exception was that before I could go home, I had to do the Fuck Up Club thing again. I couldn't wait until I didn't have to sit down with Dr. Bitch every week, but just like last week, I found myself facing her again.

After having asked again about school, she asked, "Did you have fun in Port Angeles?" I sighed. "Why do you have to keep talking to Charlie? Isn't that, like, against the rules?" She smiled and I cringed at it. "It's against the rules for me to tell him what you say, but he's free to tell me anything that is troubling him. He's concerned that you don't have friends, but he was happy when you went out with those girls on Tuesday." "They're not really friends. I just went for something to do." I didn't want to have another conversation with anyone about friends, so I tried to change the subject. "I'm concerned that Charlie doesn't have a girlfriend. Why don't you talk to him about that?" "What concerns you about it?" I rolled my eyes and tried to come up with something. "Don't you think it's strange for a man to live his life without, you know, a woman or women around?" "How do you know that he doesn't have a girlfriend?" I shrugged. "He hasn't introduced me to anyone and there's no evidence in his house of having someone like that. I mean, tube socks on the living room floor doesn't impress the ladies, so clearly he has no" "Did your mother have boyfriends?" Instantly, I felt tense and angry. "I don't want to talk about my mother or her boyfriends." "Why? You seemed okay to talk about your father and his lack of girlfriends. What's the difference?" "The difference is, I don't want to talk about my mother and her boyfriends," I repeated, this time louder. "I heard you." Dr. Bitch took in a deep breath. "I just didn't know if there was some reason why you didn't want to." I looked down and lied. "No." "Have you spoken to your mother since you've been here?" "No." "How does that make you feel?" I sighed, hating these questions and the fact that I felt like I had to answer them. "I'm happy not to talk to her. I have nothing to say and I don't think she'd have much to say either. I'm sure her life is a whole lot better now that I'm not there." "What makes you say that?" "Because she doesn't like me," I answered quickly. "Can we talk about something else, please?" Stupid fucking bitch. Why couldn't she understand that I had no interest in talking about my mother? Dr. Bitch paused for a moment and then asked, "There's a dance at school coming up, are you planning on going?"

For fuck's sake these Forks people were all about some stupid dance, weren't they? "No." "Don't like to dance?" I gave her a tight lipped smile. "Don't like stupid shit." She just looked at me for a moment, a gentle smile resting on her lips. This time it almost seemed genuine. "What's your earliest memory, Bella?" "What?" "The first thing you can remember." "Why?" "I find them interesting," she answered. Sitting back, she folded her hands over the notebook that sat in her lap. "My first memory is of my father opening the front door. I couldn't have been very old because I remember how big he was, silhouetted against the setting sun. I remember moving to him and hugging his leg." I let myself relax just a little, resting back against the over-stuffed chair. "I don't remember anything like that." Again, she smiled at me. "But you do have a memory of something. What is it?" Tilting my head to one side and then the other, I cracked my neck before dragging a hand down my face. "If I tell you, will you not call on me during Group?" "It's a deal." "I don't know how old I was, but I can remember a very long car ride. I remember crying and I remember my mother in the front seat." "Was it day or night?" I shrugged. "I don't know. It was dark inside the car but lighter outside." "Do you remember anything else?" I thought, letting the memory play in my head again. It was hazy and warped as I watched my mother's hair billow in the wind. "Renee's hair was long." Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. "Why's this important? Why do you give a shit about some fucking car ride?" "I don't know if I give a shit about it, Bella." My eyes widened at her use of the word shit. "I just wanted to hear about it." She leaned forward. "What's your best memory?" I swallowed. Even if I didn't want to comply, my mind was already scanning the past. There were very few good memories and of those it was difficult to discern the best. "I don't have one." "Do you have a worst memory?" "There're too many to choose from." ...

Letting my index finger run along the ridge of the now worn spine, I smiled at Edward's copy of Of Human Bondage. He had read it. "Did you like it?" I asked, turning to him. His eyes found the book and he gave me his quiet smile. "Y-y-yes." "I thought you would." I turned and then flopped down onto Edward's couch, staring up at his ceiling. "I like your room." I had told him once before, but it was worth repeating. His room was calm and peaceful. There was nothing soothing in Charlie's whole house, much less my room. I glanced up at Edward. Like most Friday nights, he sat on the edge of his bed, looking incredibly uncomfortable. I didn't quite understand why he didn't just sit on his bed like he owned it. I wanted to push him back, not so that I could straddle him and run my hands over his chest (although that was a tempting thought), but so that he could at least look like a normal guy hanging out in his room. Everything about his posture screamed that Edward was anything but relaxed. I wondered if it was me that made him like that. Perhaps he typically sat on that bed cross-legged and looked all kinds of comfy. I wouldn't know and had no way of ever finding out. I couldn't just ask him if I made him uneasy. Turning my eyes back up towards the ceiling, I figured I might as well talk about something. "Dr. Hale asked me about my earliest memory. Does she ask you about your memories too?" "Y-y-yes." "Do you tell her about them?" I turned again to look at him. He shook his head. "She wanted to know my best memory and my worst memory. Why would she want to know that shit?" Edward shrugged. "Sh-she p-p-p-probably w-w-wants to get to kn-know y-you." "Maybe she should start just by asking what my favorite color is." "B-b-brown." His brow creased as he looked at me. "Y-y-you w-w-wear b-brown a lot." What the hell? I sat up and looked at him closer. He wasn't looking at me anymore; he was busy looking at his fingers which were fiddling with the hem of his shirt. My stomach fluttered as I realized that he'd been paying attention to what I wore everyday. It worried me that I was so excited about that fact, but I pushed the worry back and smiled at him. Edward had figured out my favorite color by simple observation. "You wear gray a lot." Nearly everyday. It probably helped him to blend in, to not be noticed as much. Maybe that was why I liked brown so much. Brown and gray tended to blend in easily. Looking at me again, Edward nodded slightly, his lopsided smile returning. "I l-liiiiiike g-gray." "But it's not your favorite." I looked around his room again and it confirmed my suspicions. "Your favorite color is blue." He had a blue book bag, a blue iPod, a blue computer, a blue bedspread. He nodded. "I-It's sssssoothing." ...

Edward picked me up on Saturday at nine in the morning. Charlie had already left for his day of drinking and fishing with Billy Black, so thankfully, Edward and I didn't have to put up with Charlie's fatherly antics. We hadn't spoken much. We'd both said good morning and Edward told me that I should wear boots. He brought me coffee again. He drove me a half an hour north on the 101 and then we got out and started walking through the woods. I hadn't figured on going hiking, but at least I had my boots. It wasn't raining for once, although it was still fairly cold out. We had been hiking for at least fifteen minutes before I finally asked. "So, we're hiking?" It was stupid. Obviously we were hiking. Duh. Edward turned his head and looked at me. I could tell he could have gone faster, but he was intentionally staying right by my side. "J-j-just for a l-l-little b-bit." "I didn't take you for a nature kind of a guy." "C-C-Carlisle and Em-Emmett l-like c-camping." While that was interesting, I hadn't asked about Dr. Sexy or Big Cullen. "Do you?" He shrugged. "But you go anyway?" Nodding, Edward stepped over a fallen branch and then looked back to watch me do the same. "W-we all g-go. Aliiiiice, Jasper, and R-Rosalie t-too." "Soundscrowded. Does their mom go too?" I could have called her Dr. Hale or Esme, but I really wanted to call her Dr. Bitch, so I left it at 'their mom' in case Edward had some kind of fuzzy feelings for her. "Y-y-yes." "Do you all sing Kumbaya, eat s'mores and do a little group therapy session?" He smiled at me and I swear my heart stopped beating for just a moment. "S-s-sometimes, ex-except n-no ssssinging. R-R-Rosalie h-has a terrible v-voice." I smiled back at him, thankful that he wasn't offended by me making fun of his family and friends. "So are they cool?" Edward quirked an eyebrow at me and I answered his silent question. "Rosalie and Jasper." "Th-they're o-okay." I rolled my eyes and kicked some damp leaves out of my way. "She's a cheerleader." "Y-yes." "Does she act like one?" Again he shrugged. "Sh-she's o-okay."

"Stop thrilling me with your use of adjectives to describe the Hales. You make me want to run out and befriend them. What with them being so 'okay' and all." "S-s-sorry." "It was a joke, Edward." "I-I know." I looked up at him and saw that his lips were upturned. "So give me something else. They both can't just be 'okay.' You have to know more about them and have an opinion." "R-Rose p-p-pretty much h-has one e-e-emotion th-that she l-lets an-anyone sssssee." I smiled. "Does that correlate with the stink face she's always wearing?" "Sh-she's nnnot l-like that w-w-w-with p-p-people she t-trusts." "And tall Blondie Boy Hale?" He shook his head. "I-I-I l-lllllike J-Jasper. H-he's g-good with Aliiiice. H-he c-can b-br-bring her b-back w-when she g-goes sssssomewhere else." Okay, that made no sense. "What? Where does she go?" Edward sighed. His shoulders seemed to slump forward. "A-Aliiiice d-doesn't remember an-anything b-before sh-she w-was t-ten. A-and s-sometimes s-she zones out." I remembered him telling me that her mind worked different but what the hell is this going somewhere shit and zoning out? "What? She's like not there or something?" He nodded, but he was facing forward, his eyes fixed ahead of him. Turning to look where I was going, I saw a clearing up ahead and figured that was our destination. "Did you find this place on a camping trip?" Edward smiled at me as I nodded on ahead of us. "Y-yes. N-no one else sssssaw it. Sssso it's j-just m-mine." And it would be mine too. There was something exciting about going to someplace with Edward that no one else knew about. There was something absolutely mind blowing that he would share something like this with me. As we stepped out from the trees and I caught sight of the little meadow, the feeling of wonder increased. It was a rare sunny day today and the bright beams of light seemed to illuminate every small feature of the field. "I can't believe there are still flowers blooming!" I couldn't stop my feet as they moved me quickly into the sunlight and towards the purple and white flowers. Sitting down, I touched the delicate petals of one flower, careful not to pull or press too hard. "Y-you like f-fl-flowers?" Looking up at Edward, I shrugged. "Apparently." In truth, I'd never cared much for flowers. Sure, they were pretty to look at but all the ones my mother ever planted withered and died.

"I think I'm just amazed that they're still blooming." I tilted my head up towards the sky, letting my eyes slip closed. "And I love the sun." ...

Chapter 17: Faramir's Wildflower E POV I knew that I wanted to bring Bella to this little meadow. I had thought that she would like it, but I had never dreamed that she would like it this much. Her eyes lit up and her face brightened, not from the sun but from excitement over something so small as a little purple wildflower. I was suddenly struck with the urge to sing Tom Petty. It was amazing how well Wildflowers fit in this moment. I hadn't known her for long at all but already I wanted nothing but good things for her. She deserved good things. You belong among the wildflowers You belong in a boat out at sea Sail away, kill off the hours You belong somewhere you feel free Run away, find you a lover Go away somewhere all bright and new I have seen no other Who compares with you Despite her drug use, despite her seemingly careless behavior, Bella seemed like a good person. Other than a few people who had to be nice to me, she was the only person at school who didn't look at me like a complete waste of space. As much as I hadn't wanted her to, she had defended me several times and I couldn't fault her for some of her less attractive qualities. She was no more in control of her drug use than my mother was and she held no more peace about whatever past haunted her than I did. I had heard about her and Tyler. No one told me directly, but I'd have to be deaf not to hear the guys in class. I hadn't wanted to believe it and I still didn't want to. I didn't want her to be like that. I didn't want her to be with Jacob or Tyler or anyone else for that matter. But she wasn't mine. And I couldn't tell her what to do or who to be. Or who to be with. But even though the gossip at school was that she was loose with her affections, I couldn't help but think that she wasn't really like that. People at school exaggerated and lied all the time. I had no proof or evidence that she was anything but who she was when she was with me. And what she was with me was a nice person who treated me as if I were normal. I looked down at her. Bella's face was still tilted up and then sunlight made it seem like her skin sparkled. Her eyes were still closed and I could only imagine what she was thinking of in that moment. I wished it was summertime, so that she didn't have to wear her coat. I wondered if the rest of her skin would sparkle in the sun too. But I had to stop myself from thinking about the rest of her skin because that led my mind to thoughts it didn't need to have. It was well documented that I had very little control over my body and I didn't think I could even go on breathing if I embarrassed myself in front of Bella like that. Sitting down, I continued to watch her until her eyes opened and she looked back at me. I lowered my

eyes to the flower, her fingers still delicately touching it. "This is nice," she said, her voice nearly too soft for me to hear. "I should've brought my camera. We're supposed to be taking pictures of nature for class." "Ssssorry. I-I-I sh-should have t-t-told you" Bella cut me off, her eyes narrowed as she waved a dismissive hand at me. "Cut it out, Edward. It would have ruined the surprise and besides, we can always come back another time for pictures." A smile spread on my face as I realized that she had just said she'd willingly come back here with me. Her fingers moved away from the flower and I watched them as she moved to brush a stray lock of hair off of her forehead. Bella lay back, pillowing her head on her folded arms. "When you were little, did you ever look up at the clouds and make pictures out of them?" Looking up, I saw large puffy clouds and wondered how long it would be until one of them opened up on us, pelting us with large drops of rain. I thought back to when I had first met Alice. She had always made a game out of everything. I could remember lying on our backs, looking up at the sky at our foster parents' house. The grass had tickled my ears and for whatever reason, I had busied my hands by pulling up clumps of it. "I-I-I never sssssee an-anything other than c-c-clouds." Bella shifted, her head turning towards me. "That's bullshit." Her fingers wrapped around my wrist and she started tugging me down towards her. There wasn't much I could do besides lay down next to her. Her fingers let go and I watched as she pointed up. "See that one? Tell me what it looks like." "A c-c-cloud." Bella rolled onto her side to face me, propping her head up with her hand. "You're a musician, Edward. Music is creative, which means you have a creative mind. How can you like art if you don't let your mind make something out of nothing?" She lay back down again and pointed. " That is abstract art. So what do you see?" I sighed. "I-I-I don't kn-know." But that was a lie. I could see pictures in the clouds but I had learned while playing the game with Alice that I didn't see what everyone else saw. Alice had seen bunnies and dragons, boats and trees. I hadn't seen any of those things. Every cloud looked like something I didn't want to see. Every cloud was interpreted in my mind as something painful. I felt inadequate, but that was normal. I would have given anything to be able to tell Bella that I saw a horse or cat, but I couldn't. I heard her take in a deep breath and I hoped it wasn't in preparation of telling me how truly defunct I was. I already knew. "See that cloud?" She pointed again. "That's a guitar. And that one? That's Mike Newton getting smacked in the head by a volleyball." I squinted. "I don't see either of those." Bella chuckled and I looked over at her. "That's because I'm fucking with you." She paused. "They're just clouds." I shook my head. I didn't want her to not see pictures in the clouds. I wanted her to see horses and bunnies and guitars. We were silent after that for a while and although I wanted to keep looking at her, I forced myself to stare up at the sky. "So," she started, drawing out the word. "We established yesterday that you like gray but your favorite color is blue and that mine is brown." The grass rustled next to my ear. I looked and she was on her side now, looking at me. "So what's your favorite fruit?" I couldn't help but smile. "A-apple. Y-yours?"

"Red grapes. Favorite beverage?" "I-I lllike c-coffee, b-but C-C-Carlisle w-won't let me drink it a-all d-day." "I like Pom Juice, but it's expensive." Her finger touched a purple flower again. "Favorite Lord of the Rings character." "Th-that's e-easy. B-Boromir." Bella's smile widened and she was all sparkly skin and twinkling eyes. "Why Boromir?" "B-b-because h-he w-was the only one of the f-f-fellowship th-that d-didn't b-believe in th-the q-q-qu-qu, mission." God, how I hated how I spoke! "B-but he w-w-went anyway. And I-I-I lllliiiike th-the image of h-him on th-the mountain." "Carrying two hobbits while making a path though the snow with his sword?" I nodded at her, smiling at the fact that she knew exactly what image I meant. "Yeah, that's pretty bad-ass." "Y-y-yours?" Bella looked up at the sky for a moment, like she was thinking, before answering. "I like Faramir, and I like Gollum." I narrowed my eyes at her a little. I would have thought Bella would have chosen someone like Aragorn, who was incredibly strong and confident, over someone like Faramir, who was insecure. And how could Gollum be anyone's favorite character? "Th-that's llliiiike good and e-evil, B-B-Bella. H-h-how c-can you lllliiiike b-both?" She laughed and I was taken in by the sound. "Faramir, in the books, was the only one in to never be swayed by the nearness of the ring. He never wanted it. He never once has a random thought about how the ring should be his. And Gollum was completely taken with the ring. It had corrupted him so completely that he was unrecognizable from the man he had been before." Bella sighed and turned her face back up to the sky. "That wasn't his fault. He didn't ask for the ring." I wanted to ask her more, to question her in order to figure her out. While I was nothing like Boromir, I wanted to be. Was it Faramir or it Gollum she wished to be? But before I could ask another thing, she continued with her explanation, her face serious. "Most people are both Faramir and Gollum. Both reside within them. Some people never let Gollum out and some people are totally unaware that there's a Faramir in there. And then they're people who are a mix of both at any given moment. Should we call them Faralum or Gollamir?" "G-G-Gollamir, definitely. So, wh-who are you?" I asked quickly. With a small smile, she answered, "I don't know, but you're Faramir." I couldn't help but just look at her for a moment. I was Faramir? I was not nearly as good as Faramir. No, I was Boromir, even if I couldn't lift two hobbits and save Merry and Pippin. Boromir was flawed. He did covet the ring, but all his life he tried to make himself what he thought he should be, for his father, for his brother, for his country. But if she thought I was Faramir, I wouldn't argue. Faramir was honorable and kind. She shivered, so I asked, "A-a-are you c-cold? W-w-we c-can ggggo, if you w-want." Bella's eyes narrowed, as if she were studying me like Carlisle liked to do, and she shook her head. "I'm good. What's your middle name?" For a moment, I wondered why she would want to know my middle name or anything that I liked, but I supposed that friends knew things about each other. Perhaps she was just being nice and asking so that I felt like we truly were friends. Or maybe, she was my friend and really did want to know. "A-An-Anthony." "Are you named after somebody?" When I shrugged my answer, she offered, "My middle name is

Marie, after my grandmother." She was silent and then I realized that it was my turn to ask a question. There was so much that I wanted to know about her, but I didn't think it was appropriate to ask everything I wanted to know. I could ask her about Phoenix, but we'd talked about it before. She missed the pot. We'd had a conversation about diabetes. I wanted to ask something deep and meaningful but I settled on, "W-w-what's y-your ffffavorite class?" "Photography," she answered immediately. "You?" "B-Biology." Bella's face screwed up into a grimace. "Yuck. Why?" "I-it's in-interesting and I d-don't hhhhave t-to t-talk." And now I sat next to her and it was rapidly becoming the best part of my day. But I couldn't say that to her. "What do you want to do after high school?" "C-college." "And after that?" "I w-w-wanted t-to be a doctor, lllliiiiike C-Carlisle, b-but I c-c-c-can't t-talk r-right, ssssso that w-wouldn't in-inspire much c-c-c-confidence from the p-p-p-p" I had to close my eyes to block out Bella's face as she waited for me to spit out such a simple word like 'patients.' It wouldn't come. My hands curled into fists and pressed against my body as they normally did when I tried to force out a word. I probably looked so stupid and I hated myself even more than normal. Our conversation had been going so well. Something warm and small slipped over my hands. My eyes popped open as my face relaxed. I looked down at my hands, which were now covered by Bella's. and then back up at her. "Just relax, Edward." She smiled at me. It was like a sedative to my body. All the tension I had felt melted away at the sound of my name dripped from her lips. "Patients." Her eyes were drilling into mine and although it felt like I should've been nervous, I wasn't. "Sssso I'll p-probably j-just be ssomeone who w-works in a l-lab." Bella sighed but her smile stayed. "You should be a doctor. I'm sure not every doctor has to talk all that much, right? Oh! You could be like Dr. Hale and listen to people all day long and say nothing but 'Hmmmm,' and 'I see.'" I returned her smile, but knew that I could never be a psychiatrist. Her thumbs were still rubbing gentle circles over my knuckles, drawing my eyes back down to my hands. When I returned my eyes to Bella's face, she was no longer looking at me and she was nibbling on her lower lip. It was just a fraction of a second later that she quickly removed her hands from mine. She was on her feet before I could even register the sadness I felt at the loss of her electric touch. I watched as she did a cartwheel and then back flip. Bella baffled me. When she was finished, she sat down again, but much farther away from me than before. "Pretty good, huh?" Sitting up, I nodded to her. "Renee put me in gymnastics when I was little." Her voice was sad and her eyes seemed distant and dark. "She told everyone that I was clumsy, but I was really good." She paused. "She took me out of the class when it was becoming apparent that she was lying." "W-w-why would she l-lie about y-y-you being c-c-clumsy?" Bella didn't answer; she just fiddled with something inside of her coat pocket. I thought about what

she had just told me and married it with what Esme and Carlisle had alluded to. If a parent was mean to their child and left bruises and broken bones, it would make sense to stick the kid in a physical activity and blame all the marks on that. And in that instant, I went from not having any feelings at all about her mother to hating the woman I didn't even know. "I'm going to smoke." She held up a little box. "Sure you don't want to get high, Edward?" Before I could answer, she shook her head and looked away, mumbling, "No, of course you don't." ... We had sat in the field for as long as the weather had let us. She was high, her eyes bloodshot and glassy, but she was no less of a good companion. And when the sky finally did open up and drop rain upon us, she didn't get mad, like Rosalie would have, and she didn't dance around in it like Alice, she simply looked upwards and shrugged. We were incredibly muddy by the time we got back to the car, but I had towels in the trunk, so very little of it got on the upholstery or carpet. Bella hadn't wanted to go home yet, so we drove around in the rain listening to music. We didn't really talk much beyond my telling her what the song was and her telling me if she liked it or not. When I finally did drop her off back home, she asked for my e-mail address and if I had an instant messaging account. I gave her my e-mail and told her that I could get an account easily. When I had asked why she wanted my e-mail, she laughed and rolled her eyes, responding, "So I can e-mail you, Edward." And now at home, I realized how brilliant Bella was. We could 'talk' without having to stutter. Sitting in front of my computer, I smiled with excitement as I had an e-mail waiting for me in my inbox that wasn't from a Nigerian Prince or some on-line college. I opened the email from Iamabell. So thanks for the day. I liked the meadow. I have questions for you. Send them back and then I'll send you my answers. And don't forget that Banner wants our topic for our project on Monday. I vote for Mendelian Genetics as it's got to be one of the easier things to do. 1. Favorite food 2. Favorite cartoon 3. Favorite article of clothing 4. What 4 things can you not live without? 5. Absolute all time favorite movie? Bonus: What are you listening to and why should I like it? It seemed completely wrong that I was this nervous to respond to a simple email. I realized in this moment that I was incredibly caught up in Bella. It felt destined. It felt right to want to be close to her, but it was also new and strange. I didn't have much faith that I could keep her interested in me. There was a part of me that desperately wanted her to be more than just my friend. Emmett had friends, but they weren't as important to him as Rosalie was. And Alice depended on Jasper in a way that she would never depend on anyone else. And I wanted that. I wanted Bella to be there for me when no one else would. I wanted Bella to be the most important part of my life. But, as always, there was a dominate part of me that felt that I would never be good enough for her to even be my friend, not to mention my girlfriend. It wasn't just Bella. I didn't feel worthy of Carlisle taking me in. I didn't feel worthy of Alice's unconditional love and I didn't feel like I deserved the automatic respect that Emmett gave me just for being his adopted sibling. There was a reason I didn't have any friends. There was a reason no one at school beyond the Hales wanted anything to do with me. And unfortunately, that reason would probably keep Bella from me.

So as I re-read her questions, the importance of how I answered them weighed on me. If we were starting up a correspondence through written word, I could answer completely, not leave anything out the way I would have to if we were speaking. Taking a deep breath, I started to type. Bella, Thank you for a great day too. I thought you would like the meadow and I would be more than happy to take you there again when you have your camera. As for Banner's project, we can do genetics if you want, but the easier option is doing something on organic gardening. I know it's winter, but Carlisle has a greenhouse and I'm pretty good with plants. It would be easy to do, more hands-on as opposed to academic. If you want. I'll answer your questions and send you some of my own. 1. Favorite Food: Carlisle's ex-wife, Kate, used to make some kind of curry dish. It had chicken, rice, potatoes, and onions in it. It wasn't Indian curry though, it was Thai. I have no idea how she made it but I haven't had it in too many years. 2. Favorite cartoon: I don't have one. I was never allowed to watch them when I was a kid. And I don't watch much TV now and when I do, it isn't cartoons. 3. Favorite article of clothing: This is an odd question, but I suppose I have an affinity for my green button down shirt. Alice bought it and I almost never wear it (it's too nice for school), but I still like it. 4. Four things I can't live without: 1) My Gibson 2) My iPod 3) Catcher in the Rye 4) Alice. I assume that food and water are provided though, since no one can live without those things. 5) Favorite movie: This is too hard. I can't choose one. I might be able to give you one per genre if given enough time. Sorry. One movie I can watch over and over and over again without getting bored with it is Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, but I don't know if it's my all time absolute favorite. Bonus: I'm listening to Matisyahu, Time of Your Song. You should like it for its pure style alone, but also because he's a Hassidic Jew who blends rap and reggae into something unique and while he's religious, his music is more spiritual than preachy. I'll send you the file. Now my questions. 1) What do you want to do for the rest of your life? 2) Are you a cat person or a dog person? 3) Do you believe in paranormal activity? 4) Sunrise or Sunset? 5) If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? Bonus: What did you think of Matisyahu? Oh, and what's with Imabell? I hope you have a nice Sunday. See you Monday. -Edward ...

Chapter 18: Peppers and Sprouts E POV

I had wanted to use my five questions to ask her all of the deeper questions I wondered about her, like why she got high all the time, what she liked to do first thing in the morning, what she thought of the war, why she stole that car, what she thought of me. But those were all questions that might make her upset. And I didn't want her to be upset. I wanted her to smile like she had when she saw the flowers. If the rest of the weekend turned to crap, I'd at least have that. Bella didn't respond Saturday night, but I went to sleep excited about our new form of communication. I had always hoped that I would be able to express myself better where Bella was concerned without having to fumble over every syllable. And now I would be able to do just that, thanks to e-mail. I woke up on Sunday with a terrible headache, but a few cups of coffee alleviated it. Trying not to feel anxious, I forced myself not to turn on the computer right away. Carlisle was already at work, giving me the opportunity drink more caffeine than normal. I knew it wasn't a highly intelligent idea to drink so much coffee when I was already feeling anxious, but it gave me something to do other than check my e-mail for something from Bella. I tried to have a conversation with Alice, but her questions about what I had done with Bella yesterday made me nervous on top of feeling anxious and jittery from the coffee. While I loved Alice in a way that I would never love anyone else, she could pressure me just as anyone else when she wanted to. She understood without me ever having to explain things to her, but there were times when she'd be deliberately obtuse. This was one of those times. She didn't even know Bella, not really, but ever since Esme announced that Bella and I would be paired up, Alice was going crazy with wild scenarios of Bella and I going to Homecoming together or Bella and I being soul-mates or something. But she was ignoring the simple fact that apart from her, I wasn't able to be close to anyone. She was ignoring how clearly dysfunctional I was. I ignored Alice as she chatted with herself and thought about Bella. She knew about my mother and she still liked me. She didn't call me a freak, at least to my face and for whatever reason, Bella wasn't running in the other direction. And yesterday she had talked a little about her mother. It wasn't much but I didn't need to be a rocket scientist to read between those lines. I hated Bella's mother. As much as I wanted to go back upstairs and power up my computer after my fifth cup of coffee, I couldn't. I got roped into playing the Wii with Alice and Emmett. He had come home after practice, still smelling like sweat and grass. Although I said no at first, Alice pouted me into playing. So I spent an hour and a half playing Mario Kart, watching my avatar, some kind of small turtle, drive into walls and off of cliffs. While I never got anything out of playing video games, I was happy to bring such joy into the lives of my siblings. Emmett couldn't stop laughing at my ineptness and Alice would giggle each time her character lapped mine. Not to mention apparently I was incredibly funny to watch simulating driving with the little white wheel. "Dude, your whole body doesn't have to move when you turn, you know," Emmett reminded me. "And how is it that I'm the one who Carlisle doesn't trust driving?"

Rolling my eyes at Alice, I tossed the wheel down on the couch. "B-because w-while you can d-drive an imaginary c-car, you h-have no c-clue how to d-d-drive a r-r-r, an actual c-car." "Burn." "Shut up, Emmett," Alice demanded as she scowled at me. "Edward," she started, drawing out my name. "Don't make me take you shopping!" I narrowed my eyes. "I heard Carlisle saying the other day that he thought you needed some new shoes." Damn her. She knew that I'd say just about anything to get out of going to a mall filled with people. "F-fine. Y-you're a g-good driver." I left the room just as Emmett did his Rainman impression and headed upstairs. With each step closer to my room, I felt the tension build within my chest. Perhaps Bella hadn't written back. Maybe she came to her senses and decided that I wasn't worth all this time she was giving me. Maybe she wrote back but told me that all my questions were stupid and she wouldn't answer them. As I opened my door, I listened to my heart pound. Maybe five cups of coffee was a little too much in one sitting. I deliberately slowed my breathing and turned my computer on. A minute later I was reading an e-mail from Bella. Edward, Organic gardening it is, but I have to warn you that I possess no green appendages, and that includes thumbs. They're not even slightly green tinted. But we'll give it a try. Here are the answers to my questions: 1. Favorite food Brussel Sprouts. I know, I know, who in their right mind loves brussel sprouts. and the follow up to that question is why would they admit to it? 2. Favorite cartoon I could watch Sponge Bob for hours. Patrick kills me. 3. Favorite article of clothing - Vintage Red Hot Chili Peppers t shirt, circa 1991 4. What 4 things can you not live without?- RHCP t shirt, one of any number of Classic novels, brussel sprouts, and weed 5. Absolute all time favorite movie? Hands down Sliding Doors. Alternate universes based on choices you makecompletely intriguing. And now your questions: 1) What do you want to do for the rest of your life?- Party like a rock star. 2) Are you a cat person or a dog person? Neither. I have enough to take care of. 3) Do you believe in paranormal activity? Like ghosts and stuff? Maybe, but I hope that there are no ghosts. When I die I hope I'm not hanging around watching stupid living people living stupidly. 4) Sunrise or Sunset? Sunset. 5) If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? I hate this question, Edward. I'm never

going anywhere, so why think about it? But if that's a cop out answer and you need an actual destination, I would pick Amsterdam for obvious reasons. Bonus: What did you think of Matisyahu? I liked the song. Where do you find all this music? And Imabell is a stupid joke Charlie used to tell. Is..a You're a bell, I'm a bell, she Is a Bell(a). Get it? Told you it was stupid. I bet your IQ lowered ten points just by reading it. I'd send more questions but Charlie's taking me to some kind of gathering. There will be fried fish and football apparently. I'm super excited to have my whole day commandeered by the Chief. So I'll see you tomorrow. Here's food for thought until the next timeIf you could turn Mike Newton into any inanimate object, what would he be? Later, Bella. I wished that I understood her better. And although I was happy with this new form of communication, she didn't give me much to work with. But what she did give me to work with painted a very bleak picture. Not that the picture I painted was much better, but from her e-mail I got that she can't live without marijuana, her goal is to party, when she dies, she wants to be dead (no hanging around afterwards). And she doesn't like to think about the all the places she'll never go. Turning away from my computer, I slid over towards my keyboard, plugging in my headphones and letting my fingers fly over the keys. There were times when I composed that it was a very cognitive thing. I had to think about the notes and how to arrange them. And then there were times when the music simply poured out of me. The composition was already complete in my head. Who knew where it came from? This was one of those times when I didn't have to work for it. The music just came, leaving my mind to float about on whatever subject suited me at the moment. I wondered if Bella truly felt as empty as her responses sounded. Perhaps they were all she would allow herself. I understood what it felt like to dream about things that I was sure I would never have. There were a million things that even now I never really thought I could have, but I still tried for them. But maybe Bella gave up. Maybe she had given up all hope and has settled on a small contentment with what she has now. I wondered what had made her give up. ... Everyone was gathered around the large dining room table. By everyone meant my adopted family and the Hales. It was like most evenings when both Esme and Carlisle were not working. The more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself that they were in some kind of relationship. And while I picked at the Chinese take-out and missed Kate's home-cooked meals, I watched Esme and Carlisle. She looked at him a total of two times and he looked at her five times. Even when they were talking to each other, they were looking at something else. She was obviously much better at pretending than he was, but I wondered how I had failed to notice this before. How long had they been together and why wouldn't they just tell us?

This was what I generally had a problem with. It wasn't that I didn't like or even didn't trust Carlisle. And Esme was as enjoyable as a therapist could be. But they both seemed to think that we were all fragile and would break at any moment. Even with all of our collective pasts, I thought we could handle the news that Carlisle and Esme were dating or sleeping together or whatever it was that they were doing. It would actually be a good, positive thing. Why couldn't the two highly educated doctors figure out that perhaps it would be good for us to have this knowledge? That maybe putting a label on something could help us. Maybe we needed to know that she was a mother figure, not just some professional shrink trying to analyze our every move. "Edward?" My eyes flicked to Carlisle. He had apparently been speaking. "Y-y-yes?" "Esme asked you a question." I turned to her, becoming aware that Esme had always worn two hats in this house. Right now she looked like a mother. "I just asked if you had sent your college applications in yet." I sighed knowing that both she and Carlisle wouldn't like the answer. "N-no." Glancing at Alice, I wondered if she had been asked the same thing. She nodded. I heard Carlisle sigh and I turned to see his disappointed face. "He still has tons of time," Alice said in my defense. "But you've had the applications completed for months, Edward." It was not hard to hear the displeasure in my adopted father's voice. "Why don't you just send them off?" "Do you need to fine tune them?" Esme asked. I looked at her and saw that her therapist hat had come back on. Her eyes were studying me, trying to figure out what my motive was for dragging my feet. I looked at Carlisle and found him studying me with his doctor's eyes, most liking running down any kind of physical or medical reason that I hadn't done it yet. "N-n-no," I answered. "He probably wants to make sure he's only applying to the schools he really wants to go to, right, Edward?" I looked at Emmett and had no response. I hadn't sent in my applications yet because the thought of doing so caused my lungs to seize and my heart to race. The thought of putting everything about myself down on paper and having someone decide if I was good enough to get into their school tore at me. And even if I was accepted to every school I applied to, there was still the fact that at worst, I would have to leave this house, leave the comfort of my room and the small cocoon of safety I had woven here. At the least I would have to travel an hour away for the community college. And either way, I still would have to be around all new people. Mike Newton was a dick, but at least I knew he was a dick.

College was expected and to be honest, I wanted to go. But the fact that I would know no one unless I went to the same school as the others scared me. Both Rosalie and Emmett got into Stanford. Emmett was going to play football there and Rosalie was going to study engineering. Jasper got in, but was considering going to the University of Washington in order to be close to Alice until she graduated with me next year. Alice had only one school she was interested in going to and it was Stanford. And so, the only school I could decide that I wanted to go to was Stanford. "If you need some help with" Esme started, but was cut off. Rosalie sighed dramatically, causing every pair of eyes to turn to her. "Leave him alone, Mom. He just said that he didn't need help." I never actually said that or anything like it because no one would allow me to say much more than a two letter answer. "I-I'll send them i-i-in on M-Monday," I said to placate everyone. Jasper caught my eye and gave me a small smile. It was his pitying smile. He was going to divert the attention away from me. He did it a lot and he was good at it. "Carlisle, did Mom tell you about my new bike?" Carlisle cocked his eyebrow at Jasper, "It came with a helmet, I hope." ... Sleep didn't come easily. Sunday nights were worse than most. Even though I had successfully navigated through another week of small town high school just a few days before, Sunday nights were the nights that I was prone to small panic attacks. Sure, I knew what to expect when I got there, but that didn't stop me from freaking out about it. I knew my stutter hadn't magically gotten better over the weekend and I knew the same small minded people were going to make fun of me for it before school even started tomorrow. The only thing that calmed me slightly was the knowledge that Bella Swan would be there tomorrow. ...

Chapter 19: Deeper B POV After writing a quick e-mail to Edward answering his questions, Charlie dragged me off towards the beach. The only reason I didn't pitch a fit was because it was going to be at the Blacks' place, so Jacob would be there. Apparently Charlie went to a lot of get-togethers with the Blacks and the Clearwaters. When I got there, I was surprised at how many people were crammed inside the little house. The house couldn't fit them all, so there were quite a few people outside, keeping toasty around a fire pit,

holding beers in their hands. A football game kept most of the adults blind and in the living room, so everyone under the age of 19 was out back, sitting around a second fire pit. I was sitting between Jacob and Leah Clearwater, watching as Jake packed a bowl. I had to give him props. Dude was packing up a fucking huge glass piece while Charlie, the mother-fucking police chief, sat inside his house watching the Seahawks get spanked. No wonder he was one step away from juvienot that I could talk. "Pass that shit over here." I turned to see one of Jake's friends holding out his hand, a lighter in the other. I think his name was Paul. Jessica Stanley gave me the inside scoop on him. Apparently he's got some kind of massive penis that scared her, you know, in a good way. "Fuck you, Paula, this is my gathering and I say that..." he drew out the word as he let his eyes travel over everyone and then stopped when they landed on me, "Bella gets the green hit." I smiled. Nothing like the green hit when smoking out of a glass pipe, and his shit looked good today, all green and sticky with some orange fluff to accentuate the sparkly crystals. The bowl went fast, but I got decently high from the two big-ass hits I took. There was a loud noise from inside, presumably a touchdown or a fumble or some such thing. It reminded us that there were adults, responsible people, in our midst and the bowl was promptly hidden beneath an upturned flower pot. Everyone kind of drifted away, here and there, leaving me to sit with Leah and Jake. I was content to enjoy a silent high, but apparently they weren't. Leah mumbled something, her eyes fixed on one of Jacob's friends who had his arm draped around a very pretty girl. "Oh, shut the fuck up, will you?" I looked at Jake and saw him roll his eyes at Leah as he spoke. "Just because my dad invited your mother, doesn't mean I need to listen to any more of that shit." "Fuck you, Jake," was Leah's retort. "Nah, pretty sure I'm not your type and I heard somewhere that you think you're too good to suck cock." And with that, Jacob got up and walked off towards the house. "Wow." "He's a prick. I can't believe you let him stick his dick in you." I turned to Leah now, my eyes studying her face. She was scowling, of course. Every time I looked at Leah she was scowling. "What?" "Oh, you heard me." "How do you know I fuck him?" Rolling her eyes, Leah let her lips curl up. "He gave you the green hit, didn't he? In front of all his friends? I've known him since we were in diapers and that's code for marking territory. I'm surprised he didn't pee on you too." I hated possession. He wasn't fucking dating me. I was just fucking him. I thought about responding, about setting her straight about what was going on between Jacob and me, but decided against it. Saying anything at all would give the impression that I cared. So instead, I followed her gaze back to

Sam and his girl. "What's the deal with that? Is that what's got you all fucked up all the time?" Leah huffed. "You're one to talk about fucked up. You're fucking Jacob Black." "Whatever," I said as I rolled my eyes. "So what? That girl take your man?" She snorted. "Right." I looked at where her eyes were trained again and I realized that she wasn't shooting longing looks at Sam, she was throwing those sad eyes at the girl. "Oh." "Oh?" "That girl didn't take your man, did she? That man took your girl." "Shut up." "Okay." I made a move to leave but Leah's voice stopped me. "Emily goes to a private school in Port Angeles. She was the only one in Forkslike me." No way. "Please, I'm sure there're more gay people in Forks than just you and her." I wanted to tell her that no matter what her mommy had said, people were not unique snowflakes. There were millions of people just like her and I guaranteed that at least some of them lived in Forks. "Apparently she's not gay, Bella. She lets him shove his dick wherever he likes." She was so angry. I looked down at her hands and saw her rubbing at her wrists. There were scars. So Jacob wasn't lying about the botched suicide attempt. Even if she wasn't the only gay person in this tiny little town, it must have sucked feeling like it. I wondered if she tried to kill herself over the loneliness or over losing Emily. "Sorry." "Yeah, whatever." Silence loomed and it was uncomfortable. I felt compelled to stay sitting next to her out in the cold. It seemed wrong to just get up and leave after all that was exchanged, but I had no idea what to say next. I didn't really know her, so what type of small talk does one make with someone they barely know after the conversation we just had? "So" "So," she repeated, her eyes once more turning to me. "We're practically sisters, did you know that?" "What?" Her words made no sense. We weren't friends, how could we be sisters? Was it just the pot that was clouding my mind and making it impossible to understand her meaning? "Your dad's fucking my mom." My eyes bulged. "What?" I blinked, looking at the house. "Since when?" "Since before my dad died and he died five years ago." My mind raced, the pot helping it produce more scenarios than necessary. "What? Wait. Charlie's doing your mom?" She nodded. "He was fucking her while she was still married?"

Leah let out a low chuckle and nodded. "Your dad and my dad were friends from high school. I wonder if my dad ever humped your mom. Maybe it was some kind of" I stopped listening at the mention of my mother. My whole body tensed and it wasn't from the cold. Standing up, I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and trying to regain the high I had just been experiencing. "I'm going to go find Jacob." "Shit, Bella." I felt Leah grab my forearm and I fought against the urge to hit her. She didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't like people grabbing me. "I'm sorry if I" "It's cool, Leah. I don't care that he's fucking your mom. I just don't want to talk about it." I sighed. "And I'm cold. Jake can warm me up." ... "You know, we don't just have to fuck all the time," Jacob said as he watched me pull my hoodie back over my head. We were in the bathroom and I could hear Charlie cheering and laughing from the living room that was not but five feet away. My eyes moved to Jacob's face as his tongue swept out to lick his bottom lip. "What?" "We could go do something together sometime that didn't involve condoms and sticky messes." Fucking yuck. Boys were fucking disgusting and, hold up, what boy didn't want to do things that involved sticky messes and condoms? "What are you talking about?" Jacob gave me a shaky smile and then stood up, bringing his pants up with him. "You know, we could do what normal" he paused, looked down at the floor and the n back up at me, "people do." "Normal people? What the fuck are you talking about Jake?" Taking a deep breath, his smile disappeared. "Do you want to go to a movie sometime or something?" Fuck, this was not happening. Jacob was just a hook up and a hook up. I had been clear about that and now he wanted to go to the movies with me? I couldn't help the anger that swelled within me. "What? Do you want to hold my hand and give me sweet kisses on the cheek while I wear your jacket or something fucking stupid like that now too?" It was mean and it was harsh and I hated the look on his face when I said it, but it had to be done. "Jesus, Bella," he hissed quietly, his gaze moving to the floor. "I told you that I don't date, Jake. I don't want to be someone's girlfriend. I don't want the fucking hearts and flowers and I don't want any sappy love poem you stayed up all night writing, okay?" I ran my hands through my hair. "And last I knew, neither did you." "I just asked about a fucking movie, Bella, okay? I didn't fucking propose." "Fine. No, Jake, I don't want to go to a movie with you, I'd rather let you bend me over your dirty bathroom sink and fuck me so hard that I scream and lose my voice. Okay? Is that acceptable for you or do you have to buy me fucking dinner first?" Jacob shook his head and then turned to face the mirror. He stared at himself for almost thirty

seconds until he turned around to look at me again. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "I didn't say that I wanted to be your boyfriend, Bella." His words were calm and did my best to calm the rising panic I felt within myself. "Good. Because I told you from the beginning that I'm not the girlfriend type." "Yeah, I remember." "I don't fucking hold hands," I said while smoothing down my hoodie, trying not to think about how desperately I had wanted to hold Edward's hand. "I get it, Bella." My teeth clenched together just as my hands were balling up at my sides. After a deep breath, I said, "I don't want sweet kisses and whispers about love and bullshit." "Alright, Bella," Jacob breathed. I put my hand on the door knob and twisted. "I'm not your fucking girlfriend, Jacob. Don't fucking think that I am." "Why are you so fucked up, Bella?" I ignored his question as I left the bathroom. It was another two hours after that before Charlie thought it was time to go home. I didn't have to ask him how many beers he had drunk. I could tell by the stupid smile on his face that he was over the legal limit. "Give me your keys, Charlie." "You can't drive, Bells." I sighed and held out my hand. "I'm sure the court would make an exception if it meant no one gets killed by a drunken police chief today." Charlie got this look on his face. It was all sad and disappointed. "Bella, I" "Just give me your keys." My voice held no anger, no harshness. I was tired and I wanted to go home. Charlie extended his hand and dropped the keys in my palm. "I didn't mean to drink so much, Bells, I'm sorry," he said as he slipped into the passenger seat. "It's cool, Charlie." "No, it's not cool. I'm your father and I'm setting a bad example." I revved the engine as I turned to him. I was horrified to find that he was a sappy, sad drunk. "Forget about it, Charlie. We're cool." He was silent for a moment. "Did you get something to eat? I should have made sure that you" I shook my head and put the cruiser in gear. His fixation on my eating was starting to annoy me. "I had food, Charlie."

"Dad," he whispered as I pulled away from the curb. I ignored him for the rest of the ride home, but thought about his secret, or not so secret, relationship with Sue Clearwater. Charlie drank too much and fucked another man's wife. I wondered if everybody in Forks was a fuck up. "Are you hungry, Charlie?" I asked as I followed him into the kitchen. "I am." I nodded at him. He sat down at the table while I moved to gather food to assemble and tried to keep my mind off of any heavy topic. Truth be told, I wasn't high anymore and I hated it. As my hands went to work cleaning the lettuce and carrots, trimming the fat off the steak, prepping the oven to broil, my thoughts were on all the subjects I didn't want to think about. Today had made twice that Jacob had asked me on what sounded like dates, even though I'd been clear with him that I don't do that shit. It made me uncomfortable to think that Jacob somehow wanted more from me than what we had right now. I had no interest in him beyond his ability to make me orgasm and sell me weed. But now it seemed like he wanted more. I had no more to give. I had just stood up after having grabbed the large ceramic bowl for the salad when Charlie asked, "Why are you so sad, Bella?" I stopped my motions and stood perfectly still, panic and fear rising within me as I watched him get up out of his seat and moved towards me. What the fuck? "What are you?" Charlie extended his hand towards me and instantly I dropped the bowl, hearing it break at my feet. As his hand made its way dangerously close to my face, I arm instinctively came up to block it. I smacked it away quickly and then stumbled backwards until my back hit the counter. "What the fuck are you doing?" Charlie looked at me, his drunken face showing his shock. "I was just going to touch your hair, Bella." He paused, his eyes on me as I wrapped my arms around my torso. "When you were little," he started slowly, "you used to let me brush your hair." I didn't remember that. I felt sick. His hands were slack at his sides as he just looked at me. Swallowing hard, I brought the hand that smacked his away to my mouth. "I'm not little anymore, Charlie." Very, very quickly, I left the kitchen and found the bathroom, just barely making it to the toilet before throwing up. Fuck. I rose up off the floor and grabbed my toothbrush. I knew that Charlie didn't mean to scare me. I knew that he wasn't someone who wanted to hurt me. But I couldn't just let him touch me. I didn't care why he wanted to touch me, whether it was to hurt or comfort, I wouldn't let him do it. After brushing my teeth and washing my hands, I moved into my bedroom, hearing Charlie clinking around in the kitchen. Packing up my bat, I stuck my head out of my opened window and took two

hits. I grabbed a piece of gum, dropped some Visine in my eyes, then headed back downstairs to finish cooking dinner. The pot was working, and I felt so much better. But regardless of the pot, my body tensed again, just slightly as I entered the kitchen. Charlie was butchering the Romaine and all of the ceramic shards were gone from the floor. I wanted to cut the lettuce myself, but that meant I would have to stand next to him and take the knife. I didn't want to be that close to him. The thought of having to stand right next to him made my stomach churn, and I was suddenly struck by how unfair everything was. It wasn't fair for me to have these reactions to Charlie, to my own father. It wasn't fair that all he wanted to do was touch my hair and I had an involuntary reaction. It wasn't fair that I hated him so much for something he didn't even do. This shit wasn't his doing. But that didn't matter. I felt sick again. I tasted bile and my throat burned. My cough alerted Charlie that I was there and he turned around, eyeing me. He looked completely sober now as he placed the knife on the counter. I pointed to the lettuce and through clenched teeth, I managed to get out, "Do you want me to do that?" Although he nodded, I waited until he had crossed back over to the table before I moved to pick up the knife. "You okay, Bella?" Breathing in deep, I bit back the nasty words that floated from my mind to my mouth. As much as I wished it was, this wasn't his fault. When I had filtered through all the snotty, bitchy remarks I could have possibly said to him in that moment, I settled on a quiet tone. "I don't really want to talk, Charlie. Can I just make dinner?" ...

Chapter 20: Slightly High Bella After I knew Charlie was sleeping, I stuck my head out of the window and took another couple of hits off my bat. I got entirely too fucking high. It was after eleven when I opened an e-mail from Edward. Bella, I hope you have an excellent time at the football fish fry fun fest. I don't think it would be appropriate for me to tell you what I would turn Newton into. It's not very nice. But since you didn't have time to ask questions, I'll go. If you could spend a day with anyone, living or dead, who would it be and why?

What's your favorite holiday? If by some magic you could have either unlimited wealth or unlimited health, which would you pick? Why don't you eat anything other than a Pop Tart or an apple at lunch? Don't you get hungry? What color is your comforter? Bonus: Did you learn anything new at the fun fest today? I'll see you at school tomorrow. I assume that these questions and overall content of this e-mail correspondence won't be mentioned there. Edward. I smiled at his e-mail. It was the bright shining spot in an otherwise stupid day. Even though I was insanely tired and incredibly high, I hit reply and wondered if he would check his e-mail before school tomorrow. Edward, You're all about the random questions, aren't you? Here goes: If you could spend a day with anyone, living or dead, who would it be and why?- Is spending the day alone an unacceptable answer? People kind of bug me. But again, if that's a cop out and you need an actual person, I enjoy hanging out with you. What's your favorite holiday?- I don't know. Columbus dayit's good to remember the dude who ordered the rape and killing of an entire indigenous people. If by some magic you could have either unlimited wealth or unlimited health, which would you pick? Wealth. Being poor sucks, and with money you can buy health. Why don't you eat anything other than a Pop Tart or an apple at lunch? Don't you get hungry?- I hate eating and not in the Angela Weber kind of way. Diabetes makes me hate eating. It's a pain in the ass to figure all the stupid shit out, so lunch is the one time I try not to think too much about it. What color is your bed spread?- Purple. Charlie bought it. Some chick at the store picked it out. Bonus: Did you learn anything new at the fun fest today? I learned entirely too much at the fun fest today. I will file it all in my 'Things I Can't Unlearn' folder. My five (some of these are specific, so I won't be able to reciprocate an answer, but you can ask me specific in return): When did you discover music? Like when did you know you could play? Do you cuss? 'Cause I've never heard you. Do you believe in God? Do you write your own music?

Why don't you call Carlisle 'dad'? Bonus: Have you ever been to a concert? I heard that the Chili Peppers are playing in Seattle some time close to Christmas. Could you be around that many people? And in regards to school and these questionsI don't want or need other people knowing the answers, Edward. We're friends, like I said, but I don't need someone like Newton or Lauren to know who I am. So I'd appreciate keeping our discussions at school about something other than our questions and their answers. Sorry, I'm fucking rambling because I'm slightly high and tonight I'm unfocused. Shit. Should I have deleted that? Was it rude to mention getting high to him when his mother was a dead smack addict? Being friends was hard and to be honest, I didn't want to offend Edward. Anyone else and I wouldn't have cared. But he told me that he wouldn't judge me. Fuck it. Why was I continuing to put so much thought into this shit? I was going to send it as it was. Is that cool about the questions being private, especially at school? See ya. Bella. ... Jacob was quiet on the drive to school Monday morning, even as I rolled a joint out of my stash for the ride. I felt bad for the way we had left things yesterday and thought the joint would be appropriate. It wasn't that he was giving me the silent treatment, because he was talking to me, but he wasn't talking much and he wasn't saying anything. As we pulled up into his usual parking spot, I said a quick goodbye, figuring that he would either get over it or not, either way, it wasn't my problem. I'd been honest with him and I didn't think that there was anything wrong with that. I caught up with Tyler Crowley in the hall before Photography and bought two Vicodins off of him for three bucks a pill. I hadn't slept much the night before and instead of being tired, I found myself wired. I figured that the Vicodin would help my body and mind relax just a little. Rationally, I knew that Charlie had meant no offense and that I had over-reacted, but my irrational mind still made it impossible for me to stop the involuntary shoulder shakes that happened at irregular intervals. Maybe the pills would stop it. So I snapped one of the pills in half and downed both halves to make it work quicker. And work quick, it did. Pixie Cullen nudged me and my head slipped off of its precarious position, resting on my hands. "What?" I looked around, my eyes finally falling on her. "Class is over, Bella. Are you okay?" "I'm fucking great. How are you?" I took another half right before lunch, and for whatever reason, took the last half after smoking out

with Jacob. I was fairly incoherent during Biology. I was pretty sure that I nodded a hello to Edward, but after that it's pretty much a crap shoot as to what else happened. And to be honest, it was nice. Painkillers always left me feeling like I was floating on a cloud, all the rough edges of the day smoothing out into a nice and warm and cozy fluffy pillow. I should've gotten more from Tyler. I wondered if I would see him again before the end of the day. Maybe Jacob could just lift one of Billy's for me. "o-okay?" I blinked and raised my head off the desk, my lazy eyes finding Edward's deep greens easily. I felt a smile instantly form on my lips. "Hmmm? Okay, what?" His eyebrows raised. "A-a-are you o-okay?" I nodded and Edward's eyes shifted towards the door. "C-class is d-d-d-d, o-over, B-Bella." Looking around, I finally noticed that the room was nearly empty. "Oh." I stood up and collected my notebook, the sheets of paper still blank. "Guess I forgot to take notes." "Y-you c-can borrow mine." I shook my head as I shoved the book into my back pack. "It's cool, but thanks. I'm sure it was all genome this and molecular that." The intensity of his eyes made me look away again. I didn't understand why he was looking at me like that. "So we should do something on Saturday," I said lazily When I looked back at him as I began to walk away, I found him nodding, the edges of his lips turned up slightly. "What do you want to do?" I asked when his feet finally began to carry him towards me. "C-C-Carlisle is inviting y-y-y-your f-f-f-f" Out in the hall, I stopped outside the door, giving the other students a little room to enter. "My what?" "F-father," he spit out, "and you for d-dinner." "What? On Saturday?" "W-well the d-dance is on S-S-Saturday, ssssso it w-would just be mm-mmm-mmme a-and" I sighed. It was nice of Charlie to tell me about all of the social engagements he'd signed me up for. "Well, what about Friday? The game's on Friday, so doesn't that mean the whole Fuck Up Club will be cancelled?" I could hope, couldn't I? Edward nodded, which made my day. It was then that my head began to float again, the blood feeling like it was swishing this way and that inside of it. For a moment, I let my eyes slip closed and I took in a deep breath. I had eaten lunch, hadn't I? Fuck. I opened my eyes and suddenly everything slowed down. People were moving dangerously fast outside of my darkened bubble, but everything on the inside was slowed down and muted. The only thing I could hear was the thudding of my heart. Edward's lips were moving, but I had to strain my

ears to hear him. I didn't know if it was the low blood sugar or the Vicodin, but I felt like shit. Involuntarily, my body rocked forward as my mind raced, yelling at my body to respond. There were things I had to do when my blood sugar was low, actions I had to take. But my body was slow and sluggish. Strong hands like vices grabbed onto my upper arms as I came crashing into Edward's chest. I pulled back and came face to face with him, brown eyes locked with green. It took a moment before my body caught up with my mind and I took a deep breath. Licking my lips, I pushed away from him gently and stood myself up as straight as I could. "Sorry. Just dizzy." I watched his eyes narrow just slightly as his chest began to rise and fall quickly. My body began to move now, shrugging off my back pack and crouching down onto the ground to search through the front pouch. I was vaguely aware that Edward had crouched down next to me, but I couldn't think about him right now. I had to get sugar in my blood stream. When my sugar was low, my thoughts were slow and scattered; on Vicodin my thoughts were speedy, but this was entirely new and slightly scary. Usually I could do all this faster, but today I was a river of mud. And all my thoughts were shooting me in different directions. Yes, I should get the sugar packets. Yes, I should get them into my mouth as absolutely fast as possible. Yes, Edward was standing right next to me and we were in the middle of a crowded hallway. But my hands fumbled with the zipper. They shook as they tore open the packet and I found myself hoping that I'd either just pass out or feel better already. And then finally, sweetness on my tongue, the instant placebo effect kicked in and I felt minutely better. Even if it was psychological, I loved the placebo effect. It at least gave me hope that really, really soon, I'd start to really feel better. The world would begin to brighten again, the hazy disappearing. I would be able to hear it around me instead of being deafened by the thump of my heart. I could control my body again. Probably two or three minutes later, I stood up, three empty sugar packets in my hands. I felt hot, but relatively okay. I knew Edward was still standing next to me, but I couldn't focus on him yet. Shit. Had I even eaten breakfast today? I breathed in slow and deep and finally gave Edward a small apologetic smile. "Sorry. " He shook his head, creasing his brow even more. "A-are you, o-o-okay?" "I have to eat." Looking around, I saw that we were alone in the hall. "You're late for your next class." Edward shook his head again. "I-I don't h-have one." He brought his hand to my elbow. "D-do you w-w-want to g-gggo to the n-nurse?" I wasn't sure if it was his question or some kind of instinctive reaction, but something compelled me to say "No," very loudly while jerking my arm away. Nurses never led to good things, so there was no reason to go see one. And yet I felt a little sad to lose the contact with him. I wondered if the day could get any weirder.

"I'm okay, Edward." I ran my hand through my hair. "I'm just going to go sit outside. The cool air will help." "D-do you w-want mm-mmme to g-go with you?" Did I want him to come with me? No. I didn't. Not because I was a bitch and didn't like him or whatever, but because this shit was getting too fucking deep already. I was fucking hanging on this e-mailing thing we'd just started. Hell, I had practically just told him about Renee in that meadow. The feelings that I had towards him were intense and I didn't like it. It was fucking sloppy and I was stupid for it. I needed to stop thisinfatuation. Things were always easier without all this fucking emotion. But even as I said that in my head, trying to convince myself that I didn't need or want anything like this, my mouth responded, "Yeah, sure." Outside, the cool, crisp and slightly wet concrete of a low wall helped cool my burning face. I focused on deep breaths. I was feeling better overall, but was left feeling jittery. "I-I-I'll g-go get you ssssome more food." "No," I said quietly, my eyes turning to find him. "This is fine." I shook the hand that held the apple I swiped from the cafeteria before coming outside. "Just sit with me." Struggling for a moment, I sat up, my shoulder brushing his. I hadn't realized that he was so close. Again, even though I knew I would be sorry to lose the contact, my body automatically slid away just slightly. I took small bites of the apple and thought about how this had happened. I had thrown up last night, barely ate any dinner, skipped breakfast and forgot lunch and hadn't made any adjustments to my insulin. We must have been sitting outside for a long time because students started filing out of the building. "B-B-B-Bella!" I looked up quickly at Edward, but it hadn't been his voice calling me. My eyes slid over and saw Prick Newton smirking at me. I quickly glanced at Edward again. His neck was bent and his hands clenched in his lap. "I-I'll sssssee you t-tomorrow, B-B-Bella." I sighed, but he got up and walked away quickly, leaving me there with Prick Newton. "You are such a humanitarian, Bella, spending your time with the friendless." He sat down next to me, the smirk still on his stupid face. He leaned in closer to me, "What? Does a guy have to be a total loser to get your attention? You are so giving to the less fortunate. I find that sexy." "Mike," I started slowly. "I feel like shit right now, could we maybe continue this conversation, oh, like, never?" He laughed and shook his head. "I know your game, you know." "My game?" This was going to be good.

"Yeah, your" "Need something, Newton?" I looked up to see Jacob, who was at least a foot taller than Prick Newton, scowling down at him menacingly. "Just talking to my girl Isabella, Black. Don't you have some pot to sell to ten-year-olds or something?" Jacob smiled, but crossed his arms over his chest. I rolled my eyes. Boys and their pissing matches and dick measuring. Standing up, I shook my head. "Actually, Mike, Jacob's my ride so" "I can give you a ride home, Bella. At some point you'll want something classier than" Feeling another insult from Mike coming, this time not aimed at Edward, but at Jacob, I leaned in closer to Mike and I saw his smile widen. "Mike," I said, drawing out his name all low and seductive. "Not only is he going to give me a ride home, but he's going to give me a ride home. And that will never be you." For a moment he was quiet, his eyes flashing something dark but after a moment, he said, "You say that now, Isabella," before walking away. ... After dinner, I found that Edward had written me back. Bella, Your five: When did you discover music? Like when did you know you could play? When I was 12. Carlisle bought me a guitar as something to focus on. He would tell you that I have a 'natural talent for music'. I'm not sure why, but I remember just picking it up for the first time, strumming it and then being able to pick out a simple song that first night. Do you cuss? 'Cause I've never heard you. I guess in my head I do, but they're just such throw away words that I don't waste my time trying to say them. And typically the cussing in my internal dialog is limited to hell or damn, I think. I was brought up not to cuss at all, so I just haven't really done it much. Do you believe in God? Yes. Do you write your own music? I can't help it. Sometimes music wakes me up in the middle of the night and I can't sleep until it's out. Why don't you call Carlisle 'dad'? Because he's not my father. Bonus: Have you ever been to a concert? I heard that the Chili Peppers are playing in Seattle some time close to Christmas. Could you be around that many people? I have not been to a concert and do not see any in the future for me. And although I'd love to say otherwise, I don't think I could be around that many people, no.

Now my five: Why don't you call your father 'dad'? Do you believe in God? You said that you write. What do you write? What's the meaning of life? Why were you really high today? Bonus: When do you want to get started on the project? We'll have to start soon in order to have something in a month. We'll have to produce a plant, I thought brussel sprouts, since you like them so much and they're a hardy late fall/early winter harvest, and do the written essay. Edward. I wasn't shocked that Edward had reciprocated my question about calling our fathers, adopted or not, 'dad'. But his fifth question threw me for a loop. How should I answer that? Should I even answer that? Did I even know why I got so high today? Obviously not eating was a mistake and that aided in how the pills and weed affected me, but I knew that breaking the pills up would make them work faster and make them stronger. And still I took all four halves within in the span of three hours or so. No, it didn't matter why I got high today because it was the same reason I got high every day. I liked it. I liked the numb buzz, the smooth edges, the slight hum inside my head. I didn't feel bad about it. I would answer his question and try to be sensitive to his past while not revealing too much about myself. There was only so much that I wanted anyone to know about me. And there were things I never wanted anyone to know. ...

Chapter 21: Seeds E POV Bella was juststrange on Monday. She clearly had been high. There was no way for me to know if her blood sugar was truly low or if she was using that as a cover for whatever it was that she was on. I still couldn't help but wonder why she would want to feel like that. And although I knew she said yes to doing something with me this weekend, and that most likely she and her father would be here on Saturday, no definite plans had been made. It would be a lie to say that I didn't lock myself away in my room for the sole purpose of reading my email. It was rapidly becoming the best part of my day. It was like a little snippet of Bella's life, a little secret we shared that no one else knew.

It was clichd, but her last response made my heart skip a beat. While she didn't outright say that she'd spend a day with me above all others, she alluded to it. And although she called my questions random, she'd still answered them all. Edward, Sorry about today. Didn't mean to nearly faint on you or anything. Not how I originally planned my day. Here are the answers to your five: Why don't you call your father 'dad'? Biologically, I share DNA with Charlie. Apart from that, I have no evidence that he's my 'father' or my 'dad.' So he is Charlie. To be fair, Renee is just Renee, so it's not like I singled the man out or anything. Do you believe in God? Which one? Honestly, it doesn't matter because the answer is no. And since you said yes to the question, I'm sure you want to know why I said no. And here it is: god is like a parent, right? We're all 'children' of god or whatever? Here's the thing, your god is a shitty fucking parent and I want nothing to do with him. Sorry if you're offended. I hope you aren't, but there it is. You said that you write. What do you write? - As of late, nothing. I used to write emo poetry and short stories, but I've learned that if I want to be creative, taking a picture is just better. What's the meaning of life? Fuck if I know. Is there a meaning behind it? Why were you really high today? Because yesterday sucked and I like being high. I just forgot to eat and still took my insulin, so I went a little hypoglycemic and it wasn't what I wanted. Thank you for your help yesterday. I'm sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable. Bonus: We can start the project whenever. If you want, I can come over tomorrow (Tuesday) or Wednesday after school, whatever's good for you. Dr. Hale won't be there, will she? Now my five: Why don't you have a class after Biology? When were you adopted by Cullen? Why do you believe in god? Do you have any real brothers or sisters? You know, biological? I imagine everyone's going to the football game on Friday, are you going or do you want to do something then? I don't know what we'll do, but it'll be better than a high school football game. Bonus: (Straight from the Book of Questions) If you could increase your I.Q. by forty points by having an ugly scar stretching from your mouth to your eye, would you do so? (Sorry, my brain is a little mushy right now. Can't think of my own question). See you tomorrow, Bella.

I immediately wrote her back, not wanting to lose my immediate reactions and responses to her email and questions. Bella, You don't need to thank me for helping today. I was worried about you. Why did yesterday suck? And did getting high help in some kind of way because it seemed like it just made today horrible too? In response to your answers: Why is taking a picture better than writing? Can I see some of your photographs? You should come over tomorrow. Can you stay for dinner? As far as I know, Carlisle will be home, so Esme will probably not be here. If you don't mind, I am going to change the format a little. I'll respond to all of your questions as usual, but perhaps out of order. First, I believe in God even though God cannot be proven through scientific means. There are certain things in this world that cannot be adequately explained, but it doesn't mean that they are untrue or invalid. While I would not consider myself religious, I am spiritual in my own way. There was a time when religion dominated my life. But now I feel spirituality has a balanced place within me. Your assessment of God is accurate if you truly believe that we are "Children" of God. If that is correct than I can see where God would seem neglectful, cruel and only capable of conditional love. However, if you shift the paradigm and theorize that we aren't children of God but a piece of Him/Her/It, then it becomes a different story. Then we are creators and not victims forced to suffer through the whims of a fickle God. I have one biological brother and I was adopted by Carlisle when I was twelve. We moved to Forks when I was thirteen and Kate divorced him when I was fourteen. I know you didn't ask about all of that, but in case you're building a timeline of important events in the miserable life of Edward Cullen, you now have more information. I don't have class after Biology because on Tuesdays and Thursdays I have speech therapy. As I'm the only one in Forks with a speech impediment apparently, Ms. Rice comes from Seattle. Carlisle gives her quite a lot of money to drive all that way, but she has to do it during business/school hours. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I'm an aide for Ms. Peters. I am not going to the football game on Friday. I know Emmett wants me to, like every year, but I don't think I could handle that many people in that small of an area. I would love to do something with you on Friday. I don't know what though. As for the bonus question, I would take the forty points. With a stutter like mine, I don't think a scar on my face would hurt anything. So now my questions (returning to old format): When you were very little, what did you want to be growing up? You indicated that other than DNA, you have no evidence that Charlie's your father. Did you get to spend much time with him growing up?

When did you start getting high? Do you have any brothers or sisters? Why didn't you make fun of me or at least treat me like a freak like everyone else when you first met me and heard me talk? Bonus: If you could undo one thing in the past, what would it be? It could be something personal (something you did or experienced) or not. Will you let me know about tomorrow? If you can stay for dinner, I'll have to let Carlisle know. And I don't know how much you know about Alice, but I'm pretty sure she's going to commandeer you at some point. Alice collects friends like Emmett collects sports paraphernalia. Just be prepared. And bring your camera, please. Have a good night, Bella. Edward I set about doing my normal after-school routine of homework, music, dinner, then reading a few children's books out loud. I would have to see Ms. Rice tomorrow and it always seemed to go just slightly better when I practiced a lot the night before. It was hard for me to focus. I kept thinking about Bella and then I kept thinking about me. And then I just plain thought about 'Bella and Me.' And I didn't understand it. Despite seemingly popular belief, I was a smart person, but I couldn't wrap my mind around whatever it that was happening between Bella and I. It was confusing. I had never really had a friend in my life, beyond Alice. I supposed that Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett were my friends, but they had to be my friends. This was the first time when someone besides Alice was choosing to spend time with me. And I knew we were opposites in a lot of different ways, but it didn't seem to matter. There was something instinctual about my wanting to be closer to Bella. It wasn't because Esme and Carlisle forced a connection because of some perception that we had experienced similar things. Honestly, all that had done was put me on edge and made me dread having to speak with her at first. But now that we had some solid history of spending time with each other, it seemed much more natural and right. And not only was that confusing, it was scary. Not that I thought it would happen, but it was entirely possible that at any moment, Bella could turn into the female version of Mike Newton. She could realize that I wasn't worth her time and not be my friend anymore. There were any number of ways in which I could be destroyed by Bella. And for whatever reason, it felt right to open up and be vulnerable. And that is what I could not grasp. Why at this point in my life did I feel like I needed someone like Bella? No, not like Bella. I needed Bella in my life. I waited until bed to check my e-mail once more, convinced that she had more important things to do than answer my questions, but desperately needing to see if she had. I was probably more excited than I should have been when I saw her e-mail waiting in my Inbox. Edward,

Tomorrow's fine. I'll stay for dinner. Are you aware that with the three questions in the beginning of your email, you asked a total of nine questions? Do you think you're sneaky with that shit? But like you, I will do my best to answer all of them. Taking pictures is easier than writing because it's harder to interpret. If someone finds a picture, typically it's a just a picture to them. Words get you in trouble. And yes, you can see my portfolio sometime. It's only fair after all, I've heard you play music. I have no siblings and spent about a month each summer with Charlie. But just because I was in Forks, staying at his house, doesn't mean that I spent time with him. The month usually consisted of me at his house while he worked and him dragging me to watch him fish with his friend (Jake's dad). When I was very little, and still thought that I could do anything and be anything, I wanted to be a cop like Charlie. Pretty stupid kid, huh? I started drinking when I was eleven, smoked pot for the first time at twelve, ate mushrooms on my thirteenth birthday, dropped acid on Christmas that same year, I rolled on E for the first time when I was fifteen, did my first line of coke also at fifteen and banged meth once last year. I know you didn't ask all that, but in case you're building a timeline of Bella Swan's history of drugs, you have all the info you need. If I could undo one thing from the pastI would undo the night Charlie and Renee met. I wasn't an asshole to you when I met you because 1) I'm not mean and 2) your stutter doesn't define you, Edward. I'll send you my five, but I probably won't read your responses until tomorrow. You said that smoking pot doesn't help your anxiety, how do you know that? How long have you being doing speech therapy? Does it help? Do you like chocolate? Do you think that people are inherently good or bad? And why? Mike Newton's smaller than you, why do you let him get away with that shit? Bonus: If you were famous, what would you want to be famous for? See you tomorrow, Bella. ... School went by quickly on Tuesday. I had intended for Bella just to ride home with us, but she said she'd meet me in a half hour or so. She left the school property with Jacob Black, as usual, and when she rang the doorbell around 4:30, I could tell she was high. I didn't ask her about it as I led her through the yard to the greenhouse out back. I had gathered all of the supplies and sat down on an overturned bucket, letting her sit on the bench. "How do you know about organic gardening?" she asked as I started to pull the starter plants out of their plastic pots.

"K-Kate l-liked plants." Kate would buy plants like Alice bought shoes. Before she divorced Carlisle, our house was filled with them. I'd counted one time and we had over fifty plants, each with their own watering schedule and sunlight needs. "She taught you about them?" I nodded, twisting my body over to the raised bed, using my hands to dig into the dirt. "W-we never t-talked mmmuch, b-but every t-time she had to re-pot something, w-we did it t-to-together." I punctuated my words with a shrug. Her eyes narrowed as she watched me tuck the first plant into the soil. "Is there something that I need to be doing? I told you I wasn't going to let you carry me through the class." I smiled, remembering how awkward that day was for me. I had wanted to say a million things to her, but next to nothing came out. The awkwardness of talking with Bella was still present, but it had changed a bit. Now there was a slightly different tension between us and I recognized it on my part from having difficulty balancing our email conversations with face to face interaction. It was easy to type words out onto a computer and hit send. It was incredibly hard to speak the same words. "Y-you can help if y-you want." I pointed to the rest of the plants on the floor. "W-we have t-to p-p-p-p-p-pppp," I stopped trying to push the word out and sighed. I'd said the word plant just moments before, but now it refused to pass my lips. "Do all of th-them," I finally finished. I glanced up at her, feeling embarrassed about the verbal block I'd just had in front of her. "Y-you can t-take p-p-pictures. W-we have to document e-each sssstage." Bella nodded and reached into her bag, pulling out her camera. It definitely wasn't new, and now I understood why Alice had wanted to buy her a new one. "Didn't we need to take pictures of the seeds and sprouts and stuff?" I nodded. "B-b-but I d-downloaded the p-p-pictures ssssince we d-didn't have enough t-time to grow them from sssseeds." Bella nodded and started snapping a few pictures of the plants before and after I planted them. It only took a minute or two and then she found herself a white bucket, turned it over, and sat down next to me. "So, I dig a hole and put it in?" Nodding, I handed her a plant. "Then y-you p-pack the dirt around it." "I fucking love dirt." I cocked my eyebrow at her and she graced me with a smile. It was like the smile she had that day in the bookstore. "Seriously," Bella said, her voice light and airy. "Don't you just love how it smells, how it feels?" If my mouth worked like a normal human being, I would have joked around with her about being some kind of pagan hippie or something, but since I knew I would stumble over the words, I just smiled at her. "I used to get into so much trouble for playing in the mud!" She laughed a little as she said it. I watched as her eyes softened just for a second, but that moment passed quickly. Bella sighed, the light leaving her eyes as her lips settled back down into a frown. I wished she would smile again. I wondered if her frown was in reaction to the thought of getting into trouble. Trouble meant punishment and I remembered what that was like. "I-I-I've never p-played in mm-mmmud." I looked down at my hands in the soil and wondered if that

was why I enjoyed working with plants. Plants lived in soil and soil was dirt and dirt was dirty and I had never been allowed to be dirty like that. "Oh, come on," Bella scoffed. "No child has ever not played in mud or dirt, at least once anyway. It's like aa thing, you know, something that's a constant." "I-I c-couldn't." "Why?" Her voice still held a disbelieving tone, but there was curiosity within it as well. I wished I hadn't said anything. It was like talking to Esme, any small detail you drop would be picked at until meaning was given to it and everyone understood it. Not that Bella was like Esme. She didn't pry. She wasn't asking in order to press me into saying something about anything. Bella had no notebook, no script pad, no psycho babble at the ready. She was just asking. But it was harder than typing answers into an email. "A-ask m-me in an email." It was the first time since we'd begun the email correspondence that one of us had mentioned it. I looked at Bella out of the corner of my eye to gauge her reaction. While I heard the sigh, her face held no clue as to what she was thinking. I wished I could read her mind. ... "This is seriously what you guys eat for dinner?" Bella pushed piece of overcooked broccoli to the side of her plate. Nervously, I watched as her eyes turned to Carlisle. "You're a doctor. Aren't you supposed to be peddling good, whole foods?" Carlisle cleared his throat, taking a quick glance at me before regarding Bella. "We all keep pretty crazy hours. It's just easier to bring take out home." "Did you already invite Charlie to dinner on Saturday?" He blinked, looked at me and then back at Bella. "Yes, will you be able to attend?" "What were you planning on serving for dinner?" Carlisle looked down for a moment. "Take out." Alice, who had remarkably been quiet through most of the meal, asked, "You're having Bella and her father over for dinner on Saturday? But the dance is on Saturday." "Which is precisely the reason why we invited them Saturday. The house will be quiet." Carlisle smiled. "Aren't you going to the dance?" Alice asked, her eyes turning to Bella once more. "It's Homecoming." Bella groaned a little and shook her head. She twirled a long noodle on her fork and sighed again. "What time is dinner on Saturday?" "I figured around six or seven." Bella licked her lips, looked at me, and replied, "Then I'll be here at four to start prepping food." I had no idea that not only would she want to come for dinner but that she would volunteer to cook as well. I wondered if she liked to cook and where she had learned.

"B-B-Bella, you d-don't have to" She held up her fork, the noodle hanging limply off of it and scrunched up her face. "Seriously? This isn't food. It's mush." She turned to Carlisle before continuing. "Not trying to be a bitch or anything, but I'd rather spend a few hours cooking before eating something like this again." Bella blinked, chewed on her lower lip, and then added, "No offense." Carlisle smiled. "None taken. We haven't had a home cooked meal in" "Years," Emmett answered. Giving her one of his most charming smiles, Emmett nodded to Bella. "You'd be my favorite person in the whole world if you made enough for leftovers." ...

Chapter 22: Alice Didn't Mean To E POV Bella's father arrived around seven to take her home. We had made plans to shop either Friday night or Saturday afternoon for the ingredients for whatever it was she planned on cooking. Truth be told, not only was I excited, I could tell that Carlisle was just as enthusiastic about the prospect of a home-cooked meal. Alice and Emmett were disappointed that this meal would be taking place while they were at Homecoming. We hadn't had much decent food since Kate left. Carlisle worked so much, Alice wasn't to be trusted with the cooking utensils, Emmett burned everything he touched in the kitchen, and I had no creativity when it came to food. If I were responsible for feeding everyone, we'd have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every other day with grilled cheese and canned soup in between. So it was hard not to be excited about Saturday. Honestly, just the fact that Bella would be coming over again was exciting. Immediately after she left, I sat down to reply to her e-mail from last night, wanting her to have it when she got home, just in case she felt like reading an email from me. Bella, Thank you for coming over tonight and working on our project. And thank you for staying for dinner. We are looking forward to the meal on Saturday. I feel bad that you will be cooking for all of us in our house, but I will help as much as I can. I don't know much about cooking, but I'd like to learn. Alice and Emmett actually contemplated staying home from the dance just to get some good food, but abandoned the idea when they realized that Rosalie would be on the warpath. An upset Rosalie is a sight to behold. I don't think Emmett's room could take another beating. So I'll get into your questions straight away. I know that pot won't help my anxiety because I tried it once my freshman year and it did not make anything better. My chest felt heavy, even as it fluttered, I couldn't speak any better than normal and I was insanely paranoid. It was not good for me. I didn't have chocolate until I was twelve, so I didn't seem to have quite the addiction to it as it seems most other people in the world do. It's okay. As far as sweet things go, I could take it or leave it. But I seem to be smitten with all things gummi. Bears, worms, fruits, whatever. I love them for reasons I don't quite understand, but when Emmett gave me my first Gummi Bear, I knew it was meant to be. But yes, I

like chocolate. I've had a speech therapy session twice a week since Carlisle adopted me. I think it has helped. It takes a lot of effort to try to make a stutter lessen or get better or go away. I don't think mine ever will. But I still hope for it. That's why I see Ms. Rice every week; that's why I spend at least an hour or two talking to myself every night. She has a thing for children's book, but I tend to stick to non-fiction. If I were famous, I would want to be famous for doing something important. I don't know. I don't really want to be famous. I don't know if people are inherently good or bad. I would like to think that people all start out good and may become corrupted over time versus the thought that there are people who are just plain evil out there. Good people corrupted were at least at one time good. Evil people who are born evil would have no concept of being good. That's fairly scary. I'm not sure what I think. Like I wrote, I would like to think that people are good, but experience tells me that perhaps what I would like to think and what is are two different things. I don't like confrontation. Nothing Mike Newton ever does is that bad. I'm sure that makes me a wimp or something, but I don't need or want a physical altercation and since I can't do much verbally to set him straight, I let go. There's only another year and a half until graduation and he'll move on to picking on someone in college. What is it that you think I should do? It's not like anything he says to me is inaccurate. So here are my five and I promise to stick to five this time: When is your birthday? Do you have friends back in Phoenix? Describe yourself in three words. What was the best day of your life? What are you most afraid of? Bonus: If you could be any animal on the planet, what would you be? Good night, Bella. Edward ... School on Wednesday started off just fine. I avoided Newton in the halls and received a smile from Bella about a minute later. Nothing major was being covered in any of my morning classes, so I didn't need to pay close attention to anything. But when lunch came, the ease of the morning faded quickly. Alice wasn't at lunch and Jasper was silent. It didn't happen often, but there were times when Jasper completely shut down. He was normally very animated, his emotions showing plainly on his face. But Jasper was always in a stat e of fluxusually mirroring the emotions of those around him, but other times being completely oblivious to others' feelings. There were times when he would show no emotion at all, as if he were emotionally dead, an

unfeeling robot, and then there were times when he was so empathic, all he had to do was look into Alice's eyes and he could know her pain and feel it right along with her. At the moment, Jasper was blank, his face showing no emotion as he stared off across the cafeteria. Rosalie and Emmett both tried to engage him in conversation, but he wouldn't respond. After fifteen minutes of Jasper's silence, I felt a presence over my shoulder and I turned, shocked to find that it was Bella. My eyes widened as she stood there, chewing her bottom lip. She looked at Jasper and then to me. She looked worried or upset or nervous. "B-B-B" My voice trailed off as her eyes locked with mine. "Alice is in the bathroom." She glanced at Jasper, her eyes narrowing at him for just a moment. He sat there as if she hadn't spoken at all. Turning her eyes back to me, she motioned to her torso as she said, "She's, um," Bella shook her head, her coloring paler than normal. "She's bleeding." My eyes widened and I stood up as my brain processed the information. Alice was bleeding. Bella wouldn't have come to our table unless it was bad. I looked at Jasper and saw that he was still checked out. I wanted to hit him to wake him up, but Alice needed me. She was bleeding. I probably should have said something to Bella. Perhaps a thank you, but I could only think of getting to Alice. It wasn't until I hit the hallway that I realized that there were at least four girl's bathrooms and I had no idea which one she was in. "This one," Bella said, pointing to the bathroom a few yards down. Rosalie was moving towards the bathroom but waited outside the door for me. I quickly looked at the double doors to the cafeteria. I wondered if Jasper was still sitting in his seat like nothing had happened. Realizing that every second wasted out here was a second that Alice was alone in there, I made my feet move. I couldn't have cared less that it was a girl's bathroom. I didn't care who was in there or what I saw and how inappropriate it would be. I pushed open the door and went in. She was in the very last stall. It felt strange and wrong to be in the girl's bathroom but it was Alice. Alice. And I couldn't just leave her there or wait for Rosalie to save the day. I doubted that Rosalie could have saved the day. Rosalie was good with Emmett and good kicking the crap out of Jasper when he deserved it, but she never had much tact and with Alice, tact was always important. I could see the lower half of her body. She was sitting on the tiled floor, her little legs crossed. I wanted to cringe at the fact that she, Alice, clean, meticulous Alice, was sitting on a public bathroom floor in front of a toilet, but the fact that I could see a small pool of blood on the floor next to her, made all of that unimportant. Knocking gently, I could hear Alice sniffle. "I didn't mean to, Edward." I pushed the stall door open and looked down. She was looking up at me, looking crumpled and wilted like dying flower. Mascara ran from her eyes, leaving two black and gray streaks down her cheeks. "It was an accident."

The white fitted button down was red near her belly. The fabric clung to her abdomen. "A-Aliiiice?" "I swear I didn't" It didn't matter what Alice said after that because I would nod my head like I believed her, even if I didn't. She was this way every time and it wasn't her fault. Each time she'd done something like this in the past, she swore up and down that she didn't actually mean to cut herself. I could tell it was deep, much deeper than any of the other times. She had been doing so well. It had been seven months since the last time, so far as I knew. Squatting down, looked closer at her torso until my eyes were drawn to her right hand. "A-Aliiiice." Her eyes caught mine and I glanced back down at the scalpel in her hands. Her hollow gaze followed mine, hearing my unasked question as if I'd spoken it aloud. "I don't know, Edward." Her voice was barely a whisper now, her other hand coming up to cover her mouth. More tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head. "I don't remember getting it." I sighed and then moved slowly to remove the instrument from her hand. I knew she'd never intentionally hurt me. But if someone had a sharp implement, it didn't matter to me who it was, I was going to move as slowly as possible. Being stabbed and sliced was painful. Taking the scalpel from her, I froze, my eyes immediately finding her wide, panicked eyes again, as I felt her hands wrap around my wrists. "Don't tell Carlisle, please. Don't tell him, Edward." "C-c-can I-I s-ssssee?" I pointed to her belly. It looked like blood was still seeping. "Don't tell Carlisle," she said louder. "A-Aliiiice," I started, knowing that there was no way to keep him from knowing. "E-E-Em-Emmett p-p-probably already c-c-c-called him." It was difficult to get the words out at the moment with her hands grasping my wrists so tightly and seeing that panicked look in her eye. "Emmett was dialing the phone when we left the table," I heard behind me. I hadn't known that Rosalie was there. "No! No, no, no!" She rose up onto her knees, her hands moving from my wrists to fist my shirt right under my chin. "I don't want to go back, Edward. Don't let them put me back there." I moved my hands to hers and sighed. I knew she was talking about the institution and I knew she never wanted to go back. I also knew that Carlisle and Esme were watching her like hawks to see if she would 'accidentally' cut herself again. I felt so bad for her. I believed that in the state she was in now, she didn't mean to cut herself. I believed that she had no intentions of hurting herself. But I knew it wasn't an accident. Her episodes made her lose time or black out. Usually it happened and she just sat and stared at a nothing, but sometimes she would do stuff. Crazy stuff, like taking Carlisle's dead mother's ashes and sprinkling them onto the bathroom floor. Or shedding a piece of clothing that she just bought for no reason. Crazy stuff like taking Biology supplies and cutting herself until she bled. I uncurled her fingers from my shirt and held her hands. "Y-you w-won't go aw-w-way, A-Aliiice." I have her hands a squeeze and she closed her eyes for a moment. I heard Rosalie sigh. "We have to get her cleaned up, Edward. I'm sure Bella can't keep the bitches of

Forks out of here for long." I turned to face her and she stuck out a handful of paper towels. "Th-thanks." I asked Alice again, "C-c-can I sssee?" She nodded and her hands left mine to pull up her soiled shirt just over her stomach. While the cut was still seeping blood, it wasn't as deep as I had feared. I held the stack of paper towels over the wound, pressing it gently. "Jasper and I had a fight," she whispered. I arched my eyebrow and she continued, "He kept talking about going to Stanford in the fall. He kept going on and on about it like it would be the best thing in the world for him. And I reminded him that he'd be leaving me, leaving me alone and that if he really wanted to be with me, he could go to U Dub for a year until I graduated." "Motherfucker," Rosalie hissed. "And he said that he wouldn't. And then I said he didn't really love me and he looked at me straight in the eye and said that maybe he didn't." "You got this, Edward?" I turned to look at Rosalie again. "I need to go kick him in the balls." Alice sniffed and I faced her again. "W-we shhhhould go." Taking her hands, I pulled her up, carefully to keep the towels against her. "But I know he loves me." "Of course he loves you, Alice. My brother's just an asshole. You know he doesn't mean half the shit he says when he's like that." Rosalie turned, mumbling something about kicking Jasper again. Alice and I walked to the sink after Rosalie had gone. Alice started crying harder when she looked in the mirror. I turned on the water and grabbed more paper towel. Giving her the dampened towels for her face, I pulled the stack away from her belly. The blood flow was slowing. I pressed the stack against her again. "H-h-hold this." When she did so, I went to clean up the blood from the floor. "Don't let them take me, Edward. I can't go there again." "I-I kn-know." I moved back to her quickly, tossing the towels in the garbage quickly. "W-we should go." Alice let me lead her almost to the door before her feet stopped and she refused to go any further. "I didn't mean to, Edward." I nodded. "I-I know." Satisfied, she moved forward again and as we exited the bathroom, I was thankful that it was still lunch and the halls were empty. "Th-thank you," I said to Bella as I passed her. She didn't have to stand guard, helping to secure our privacy, but she did. Bella's eyes slid to Alice's abdomen and she swallowed hard. She looked away even as she asked, "Okay?" "Y-yes."

"Alice!" I looked over to see that Emmett had joined us. "Damn, Alice," he sighed. "You were doing so good." "D-did you c-call C-Carlisle?" Emmett nodded but before Alice could get upset with him, he came and passed me my bag and then picked Alice up in his arms. Bella was right, he was like Superman, swooping in and saving the girl. They began to walk towards the front of the school and I turned back to Bella. "W-we have to t-take her t-to the hospital." Her eyes were wide. "Is she going to be okay? What the hell happened?" I gave her a smile. "I-I'll email you." I pointed behind me. "I-I have t-to go." "Yeah," she said, waving her hand towards Alice and Emmett's back. "Yeah, go. I'll take notes in Banner's class for you." I nodded, letting myself smile just a little. "Th-thank you." ... It was just after nine at night when I powered up my computer. The day hadn't been what I had expected. Carlisle and Esme made the decision to keep Alice in the hospital overnight. Not because the cut was so bad but because they wanted to study her. They wanted to see if she needed to be taken away again. I hoped that she'd be back home tomorrow. Despite my concern for Alice, I smiled as I saw Bella's email in my inbox. Hey Edward, How is Alice and what the fuck was up with that? What the hell happened? Normally, I'm not so demandingly nosy but that was some fucked up shit. And isn't Jasper Alice's boyfriend? Why wasn't he more fucking concerned? For what it's worth, I hope she's okay. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. I don't handle blood all that well. Funny isn't it, coming from a diabetic? So I guess I'll just answer the questions. My birthday is September 13th. I have no friends back in Phoenix. Three words to describe myself. Three separate words or like a three word sentence? Sentence: Pissed Off Bitch. Words: High, Tired, Angry. I don't know when the best day of my life was. Maybe it's still to come, but if you need best day so far, I supposed I'd go with, the other day in the field. I know all we did was talk or whatever, but it was a good day. I like days when I don't have to deal with all the shit in my life. I'm afraid of a lot of things, but don't tell anyone. If I could be an animal, I would be a house cat. I could iey around all day passing judgment on humans, eat all their food, and then get catnip for being 'cute.' Now mine:

Why didn't you ever play in the mud as a child? Why did Kate and Dr. Cullen get a divorce? When is your birthday? What did you want to be when you grew up? Is it different than what you want to be now? (I am aware that I'm sneaking an extra question here.) Do you hate your mom for what she did? Bonus: Should I have done something else for Alice today? I didn't really know what to do. Anyway, I hope she's okay. She seemed like she was really looking forward to the dance. I hope she still gets to go. Will you go to school tomorrow? I'll see you, or, you know, maybe not. Bella. I sighed. While I enjoyed being able to communicate with Bella, sometimes the questions were difficult. I was sure she felt the same way. I'd expected the question about mud and my birthday and childhood dreams weren't hard to think about, but I hated thinking about Kate leaving and I didn't want to talk or write about my mother. But this was what we were doing. This was our silent agreement, to ask and answer things we wouldn't be able to talk about otherwise. And I couldn't help but think that if I didn't answer, fully and honestly, that I would be damaging the trust that was building between us. I was tired, incredibly tired. It had been an emotionally draining day. Alice didn't want me to leave the hospital and I would have stayed there all night with her if I could've, but hospitals have rules. And so do Carlisle and Esme. I didn't think they were trying to be mean but it wasn't hard to see that Alice and I had come to depend on each other. And while they didn't want to break that bond, I think they wanted to see how far it would stretch. They didn't want us to be co-dependent. But I saw nothing wrong with having at least someone to depend on. Regardless, I couldn't stay with her and had to leave her alone. She looked very small in that large bed, an IV in her arm. They weren't giving her anything but saline, but I guessed they wanted to keep their options open. At least they didn't have to use the restraints this time. I stayed up only long enough to return Bella's email and then lay down for another fitful night of sleep. ...

Chapter 23: Intensity B POV "Oh, fucking Christ!"

"Nope, still just fucking me," Jacob said with a chuckle into my ear. Fucking outside in Arizona was a lot more comfortable than trying to do it outside in Washington on a motherfucking cold fall day. Stupid coats get in the way. I was sure we looked anything but sexy; Jacob with his pants around his ankles, bare ass out in the thirty degree air, me, pants hanging off of my right foot, pressed up against this big old tree. The intensity with which he fucked me the past couple of days was about to send me into orgasmic overload. He was either working out his anger towards me through sex or the dude was fucking in love with me. I hoped it was anger. Anger I could deal with. Anger I could understand. He had been strange and distant on Monday, not really speaking when he picked me up for school. I felt a little bad, but that moon-eyed shit he'd been pulling had to fucking quit. I wasn't his girlfriend and I would never be. It was tough love. I had to snap his ass out of whatever fantasy he was living in which we had more going than a mutual orgasm arrangement. I got my weed from him. I paid him money for that. I got to come and in return, I made him come. There would never be any movies or dinner or goddamn fucking hand-holding. It wasn't until lunch when he decided he would grace me with his words. And what romantic words they were. "Hey, you want to fuck after you're finished with the joint?" It was at least better than asking me to the fucking dance or to a movie. Yesterday, I had gotten home from Edward's, feeling all kinds of weak. First off, why the hell did I volunteer to cook fucking dinner on Saturday? Why couldn't I have kept my mouth shut? I was pretty sure that Dr. Bitch would be there with Dr. Sexy and Charlie, so now instead of being there a few hours, I basically just signed myself up for at least five. But at least Edward would be there. I felt vulnerable yesterday because Edward and I had slipped into this casual friendship and while I liked it, there were things that made me completely uncomfortable. Like sharing pieces of our lives that no else was privy to. I felt stupid after saying that I used to get into trouble for playing in the dirt, and I felt fucking horrible when I didn't believe that he had never played in the dirt. I didn't think he would lie about that because who would? Who would just make that shit up. And then he asked me to ask him in an e-mail and I was instantly reminded that he was in therapy just like me. We seemed to be using our newly acquired e-mail conversations for topics we really couldn't or wouldn't say out loud. I didn't think that I had admitted too much, but I had this feeling deep down that it would only be a matter of time before I would. And that was fucking scary. But as Jacob grunted his way towards the homestretch, I pushed all my thoughts of Edward and the accompanying fears to the side and just felt the waves of sexual bliss course through my body. After he pulled out, tossing the condom behind him, we cleaned ourselves up a bit before exiting the woods and heading to the school. Pixie Cullen wasn't in Photography, leaving no distractions as I developed my film. I could have sworn I saw her get out of the Jeep they all usually came to school in this morning.

And in Spanish, Ms. Goff pissed me off by springing a pop quiz on us. Stupid Spanish. Before I could make it to lunch, I found Pixie in the bathroom. At first I hadn't known it was her, just that there was someone sitting on the floor in the last stall and there was blood. I could smell it before I saw it and it made me slightly dizzy. "Um, hello?" I called as I stood outside of the stall. "Are you okay?" There was no response, so I asked again. "Go away," was the reply. Fuck. "Alice?" "Go away," she repeated. I sighed, running my hands through my hair. "I'd love to. I hate blood and so I should leave, but since there is blood, I'm sort of worried, so I can't really leave until you come out and tell me you're okay." "I'm okay." "Are you coming out?" She sniffled. "No." Double fucking fuck. "Then I can't fucking leave." I pushed on the stall door to see if it was unlocked. It was a long shot and it didn't pay off. "Alice, um, can II need toDo you need some help or something?" I felt stupid. I wished that I could've just walked out of the bathroom and not care. "Please just go away." "Listen, Alice, I fucking suck at this interpersonal bullshit, so could you just come out of there and let me do something or whatever?" I didn't know what I was doing, nor did I know what I would do if she came out. I hoped that whatever was bleeding was an easy fix and didn't require me to do any touching or anything. I felt like passing out as it was. Another sniffle. "Bella, if you're my friend, you'll just leave now." Well, fuck. It was in this moment that I realized how radically different my life had become in just a few short weeks. It was out of fucking control. Here I was, new girl at Podunk High and I had all these people around me. I was a nameless fucking face in Arizona. I was just one more piece of ass, one more bitch, one more stupid-ass kid in a fucking sea of them. And now suddenly, I was here, involved in everyone else's shit with everyone else just dying to be in mine. Pixie Cullen obviously thought I was her friend and I couldn't find anything to point to the contrary, so now she could no longer be just Pixie Cullen. Now she was Alice. Alice, Edward's sister, who likes to fucking shop and loves Blondie Boy Hale. Motherfucker, how had I let this bullshit happen? Between Jake fucking wanting to go all gooey on me and my fucking little school girl crush on Edward, this thing with Alice now made me feel even more out of sorts.

But Alice was there bleeding and she had called me her friend and she neededsomething. And I didn't want the damn girl to just go on bleeding, and not because it fucking made me sick but because she was too nice to sit there bleeding alone for that much longer. I sighed. I had to do something. "Alice, because I'm your friend and all, I'm leaving." I paused and heard her sigh in relief. "But I'm going to go get Edward. He'll know what to do," I finished the last part off in a whisper. I heard a little 'eep' noise come from within the stall, but I turned from her, moving as quickly as I could out of the bathroom and into the cafeteria. It was so easy to spot them. The Hales and Cullens probably couldn't help standing out amongst the rest of the kids. It dawned on me that I had never really spoken to Big Cullen or Barbie and her twin Blondie Boy Hale. I'd obviously been in the same room with them before, but I had never said anything to them. But now I would have to. Big Cullen was Alice's brother, so he probably needed to know to and Barbie was female, so she'd probably be the one to go in after Alice in the girls' bathroom and Blondie Boy was her boyfriend or whatever. But when I finally told them what was up, Alice's boyfriend had absolutely no response. No one had told me about him being fucking deaf, but I swear to the flying spaghetti monster that the dude didn't hear me. I wasn't the one fucking Alice and I was worried about her. But he had no reaction to the news that his girl was fucking bleeding. Meanwhile, this guy looked like the fucking wall on the other side of the room was the most interesting fucking thing he'd seen all damn day. But Alice was bleeding and Edward was out of his chair and heading out of the hallway. He paused only for a moment and I could tell that he was wondering which bathroom she was in. I pointed him on and was amazed at the intensity radiating from him in that moment. As I watched him move with purpose, I nearly forgot that this was the same guy who allowed himself to get picked on day after day. I couldn't tell that this was the same guy that bumped into me on the first day of school. I bit my lip as he disappeared behind the girls' bathroom door. He hadn't even checked if there were other girls in there. He must've loved Alice. Of course he did, she was one of the four things he couldn't live without. "Bella," I jumped at the sound. Turning around, I saw Barbie Hale standing behind me, just outside of the bathroom. "III'm not good with blood." Barbie Hale rolled her eyes as a sneer settled onto her face. "Then just hang out by the door, Bella, and make sure no one comes in." I had no idea why she said my name with such contempt but at that moment, I didn't feel that I had much time to figure it out. Alice was in the bathroom having some kind of bloody breakdown and I had to guard the door. Why I was helping the Cullens and the Hales, I didn't fully understand, but I felt compelled to do it. It felt like I needed to help them, or at least Edward. How fucking bizarre. I kept waiting for her to go into the bathroom after Edward, but she didn't. "What?"

Her eyes moved from my eyes down to my feet and then back up again. "Don't fuck with Edward." "What?" I asked again, this time completely lost. "Edward doesn't need any more people fucking with him." I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest. "I wasn't planning on fucking with him." Barbie sighed and cocked her head to the side. "All the same. I see you, Bella and I don't know what the damage is in your little life, but don't let it fuck him up even more." I shook my head. "I don't even know what you're talking about." "I get that my mom paired you two or whatever, but don't give him false hope." "False hope about what?" I wasn't trying to be slow or anything, but I really just didn't understand. "It's cool that you're hanging out with him, but if you fuck with him and he gets hurt, I'll hurt you back." I rolled my eyes. "Please." I accentuated the sarcasm with a small chuckle. "Will you be hurting me with or without your cheerleader outfit on? 'Cause if it's with the outfit, I know a guy that'll pay us for that shit." Shaking her head, she said, "That's disgusting." I smiled as she turned and went into the bathroom. But as she left, the smile faded quickly. ... After dinner, I typed out an e-mail to Edward and then flopped down on my bed, wishing I was high. It was too risky to get high hanging out the window, especially when Charlie was still up, so I only did that on rare occasions. I found myself stone sober. And being sober made everything difficult. I just wanted comfort of the dull buzz. I certainly didn't want all these stupid thoughts going through my head. I was pissed off. I was fucking mad. I was pissed at Alice for bleeding on the fucking bathroom floor. What the hell was up with that? And why the fuck did I have to care? Couldn't she just go back to being Pixie Cullen like before? Why did I have to get suckered into having the warm fuzzies for her? Why the fuck did I care about any one of them? It had been the plan to not have friends. I didn't want them. But now I fucking had them. And then my thoughts shifted rather rapidly. I thought about the time I had spent with Edward, talking about the fucking mud. I just had a compulsion to ask him why he hadn't played in it. I couldn't help myself sometimes. I couldn't explain it. It felt so foreign to me. I had no idea why I wanted to figure him out so badly. I had never given a shit about any other person. I usually didn't fucking care what another person's name was because it didn't fucking matter. I just needed to know how it was they fit into my life. I just needed to know what they had that I needed. Because who gives a fuck that Jacob was just a guy who sells pot to support his father? Why the fuck did I need to care that his mother was dead and his disabled father was a drunk?

But the fucked up part was that now I did. I fucking cared. Now it wasn't just some fucking dude I get my weed from. Now it wasn't just some guy I fuck. Now it was Jacob and all his problems. And the fucking mud. Why the hell hadn't Edward played in fucking mud before? And why the fuck did I need to know? I wished I fucking knew what the hell was going on with me. And he was going to tell me. He answered every fucking question I asked him. And I didn't deserve that trust he was putting in me. There was no way did I deserve it. Every fucking rule I had for myself was slowly deteriorating. Next thing I knew I'd be shopping at the motherfucking Gap, drinking Starbucks mocha-latte-choco-shit in a cup. I didn't even know who the fuck I was anymore. So I made up my mind. I went to my window and got incredibly fucking high until my thoughts slowed down into something more manageable. Yeah, things were definitely better when I was high. It had felt like my thoughts had been smothering me. And I no longer gave a shit if Charlie caught me because at least my fucking thoughts could slow down. Now I could just be chill. My room was locked up tight, but I still couldn't sleep. It was a little past one in the morning when I read Edward's reply to my e-mail. Bella, Alice is okay. Carlisle had her kept at the hospital. I didn't think the cut was that bad, but I'm pretty sure that they want to 'observe' her. It's what he and Esme always do when she's like this. I told you that sometimes she just sort of zones out. There have been times in the past when she's hurt herself when it happens. I don't really get it and it's incredibly scary. She doesn't remember even getting the scalpel from Biology. I never know why it happens to her. There are no triggers that anyone's been able to figure out. They just happen. But she told me that she had a fight with Jasper. I like Jasper, but it's hard to know what to expect from him. Sometimes he's an emotional sponge and sometimes he's incredibly emotionless. Alice wants him to stay close to Forks for his first year of college, but Rosalie is going to Stanford with Emmett. Rosalie won't go anywhere without Emmett and Jasper won't go anywhere without Rosalie. He's been incredibly protective of her since as long as I've known them. And if he had to choose Rosalie or Alice, he'd choose Rosalie. So enough about that. I'm tired. On to your questions. My real father was pretty particular about things like dirt and mud. He had a lot of rules. I wasn't allowed outside to play when it was raining or snowing. I could go out to get on the school bus, but when I came home, I would have to take my shoes or snow boots off outside. We never had any indoor plants like Kate. Kate left Carlisle, as far as I know, because he was never home. He went out and adopted the three of us

and then left her alone to raise us. She hadn't wanted us in the first place. We weren't meant to hear that part, but they were yelling and I don't think they knew that they were loud enough to overhear. So she didn't want us and Carlisle spent too much time at the hospital. So she left and divorced him. My birthday is on June 20th. I first thing I ever wanted to be when I grew up was fireman. It's not original, I know, but I wanted to be a fireman. The fireman stage didn't last long. About my mom. I don't hate my mom for what she did or who she was. I wasn't in my mom's head, so I don't know why she did what she did. But she did it. It doesn't make her a bad person. My father said that she damned herself to hell by killing herself, but it could have been her salvation instead. How am I to know? My mother loved me regardless of her addiction and regardless of if she killed herself. And so I love her. I wish every day that she hadn't done that, but I don't hate her for it. As for your bonus question, you did fine with Alice. Thank you. Here are my questions for you: Do you dream? Of the many things that you're afraid of, what's one of them? Do you like Forks? What are those four marks on your neck from? You said that you banged meth. Banged means injected right? Like heroin? Why'd you do that? Bonus: What's for dinner on Saturday? Goodnight, Bella. Edward. Edward's reply about his mother just hurt. I knew it was e-mail, but I could feel him through his words. I would've hated her if I were him. I would have cussed profusely when talking about her, but he was respectful and loving. And I felt horrible for him. I didn't like to leave Edward's e-mails sitting unanswered. I felt like I needed to answer them right away. I didn't want him to think that anything he answered made me feel any different about him. He was my friend. I had told him that and I believed that, so it was important to make sure he knew that I wasn't judging him. So I didn't want to leave him hanging too long. Edward, Your first question confuses me. Are you asking if I dream, as in "someday my Prince will come" or as in neurons firing rapidly while I sleep? Because no to the first and yes to the second. I dream when I sleep. Typically I remember them because I don't usually sleep straight through the night. Unfortunately, they're never the type of dream I want to remember. I like Forks as much as anyone can like a small town. It's very green. And wet. And cold. Life is usually life no matter where you're living it. So it's no better or worse than Phoenix. Like I told you before, it's much

more difficult to be anonymous here. That sucks. Three of the five of your questions are tough and I don't really want to answer them. Just so you know, it's only because it's you asking them that I am even entertaining the thought of really answering them. I'd tell anyone one else who asked to fuck off. One thing I'm afraid of is the dark. I don't like it, never have. I'm okay outside at night if there's no cloud cover and the moon is bright. I can see enough of my surroundings to be okay. But I don't like going into darkened rooms. The marks on my neck are from a fork. A fork was stuck in my neck. Banging does mean injecting. I did it because a guy had it at a party and it was something new. It wasn't a horrible experience, but I don't like blood and I don't like needles. Apart from having to inject myself with insulin and make myself bleed in order to control my diabetes, I'd rather not do it recreationally. Bonus: I was thinking about making chicken and noodles on Saturday. Or I could make a stir fry? Any preference, any suggestions? Nothing spicy though because I hate spicy food. So now my questions: Do you miss Kate? Since you've asked me, where in the world do you want to visit? Do you believe in evolution or divine creation? Even though you don't like confrontation, I would imagine that you don't like people making you feel like shit. Don't you just want to pop Newton in the mouth just once? What's one thing that scares you? Okay, that's it. Have a good night. I hope you get some sleep and if you can't, I hope you have some good coffee. B. ...

Chapter 24: On Eating and Cooking BPOV Edward wasn't in school on Thursday but I did get an email from him. Bella, I read as I let my book bag fall to the floor. I would worry about fixing dinner later. Alice got to come home and as far as I know, she won't have to go away. Jasper was over today and they seem to have made up. Both of them are acting as if it never happened. But Carlisle is letting her go to the dance, so she couldn't be happier at the moment. I think you should make whatever you want on Saturday. You are doing all the work, so it should be what you want. But chicken and noodles sounds fantastic.

I do miss Kate. Apart from apparently never wanting to adopt us, she was always kind. She made good food. She was good for Alice to have around. Alice doesn't remember her mother, most of her childhood, really. Alice adored Kate as a mother figure. If I could visit anywhere, I would visit Ireland, I think. My mom was born there and she used to talk about it all the time. I don't really want to hit Mike Newton. I'm not really a fan of violence. I try not to react in a way that would make me more like him. He seems to enjoy hurting people. I don't. I don't want to enjoy it, so even though he makes my life harder than what it needs to be, it would do nothing for me to hit him back, even just once. I believe in both evolution and creation. Just because God made the world, it doesn't mean that the world he created didn't change over time. Who is to say that that God's seven days and man's seven days are related at all in terms of time? What was seven days to God, could have been a million years for million. Who am I to know the measurement of God's time? Religion and Science can come together. Most people are just too narrow-minded to see that. One thing that scares me? There are a lot of things that scare me, some more than others. One thing would be college. I want to go but it seems to be giving me quite a bit of anxiety. Every time I start thinking that today's the day I'll mail in my applications, my hands won't pick up the envelopes. I don't know what it is exactly, but I'm sure it has to do with all those people that inhabit a college and I won't know a single one of them. I could go to Stanford with Emmett, Alice, Jasper, and Rosalie, but I'm not sure that's where I want to go. So, now for mine: Why don't you like spicy food? How does one get impaled with a fork? Why don't you like talking about your mother? Why would you just put something like meth into your body simply because someone offered it to you? Are you upset with me for asking these questions? Bonus: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100. Guess what it is. I'll see you tomorrow. We'll go to the store directly after school. Pretty much everyone will be busy with the game, but if you still want to, we can do something after getting groceries. It'll be too late to try to go to the meadow, but we can find something. Have a good night, Bella. Edward He certainly wasn't holding back with his questions. I would answer them though, just as he answered all of mine. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I was the one that opened these flood gates and now I couldn't close them. It was a weird thing to want to tell someone shit I'd never even wanted to think about before. I had no idea what it was about him, but Edward was able to make me feel like it was okay to share. Not that I wanted to. I wished to the FSM that he hadn't asked me any of these questions, but he did, so I would reciprocate his honesty and trust. I might not tell him every motherfucking thing, but I wouldn't avoid the questions. No matter how bad I wanted to. Edward, I'm glad Alice is okay and can still go to the dance. I'm sure it wouldn't have helped her to have to miss something that obviously means a lot to her. She's told me all about her dress during Photography.

No, I'm not upset with you about you asking those questions, however, to be perfectly honest, I hate every single one (except the bonus. You're thinking of number 73, aren't you?). I don't like talking about my mom because I don't really like my mother. I would rather just banish her from my mind and not talking about her helps. She's in Phoenix and I'm in Forks, so there's really not that much to say. Banging meth was stupid. I know that. It was stupid to do it, but I did. And I don't know why I did it other than just because it was there. I'm kind of a 'I'll try it at least once' kind of girl. I don't know. I don't like spicy food because it can hurt. One gets impaled on a fork by falling on it. I paused my typing for a moment. I wondered how unfair it was that I wasn't elaborating and I wondered if he would pick up on it and mind. I wasn't trying to give less than I took with Edward but these answers fell into the realm of things people didn't need to know. They were things I didn't want to think about and I was quite frankly not high enough to go into depth. My emotions would have been all over the place. Here are my five for you. 1) How did you get the scar on your top lip? 2) Why do you want to be a doctor or a medical researcher instead of a fireman now? 3) Do you miss living in Chicago? 4) Why do you want to know anything about me? 5) I've never seen you upset. Not even when I think you should be. What makes you upset? Bonus: If you could do anything, without any negative consequences, what would it be? Most of the rest of my Thursday was routine, the only difference being at dinner and a phone call after. There was something that I knew I had to discuss with Charlie, him being my legal guardian and all. I'd been kicking it around my head for a little bit and unfortunately I needed his consent. "Charlie?" I asked, watching as his eyes met mine. His knife stopped on the steak, mid-cut. "I want to get a job." I needed money. Despite cooking and cleaning, Charlie didn't give me an allowance, like other kids' parents. Renee never did either, so I wasn't upset with it, but I needed money. "You want a job?" I nodded at his question. I had just said that. Charlie looked like he was thinking, his mouth finally chewing that piece of steak. "Well, I know the Newton's pretty good. I don't know if they need any help, being that it's going into winter and all." "Newton's, as in Mike Newton?" "Yeah, he's a good kid. I've known his parents practically since birth. You know him from school?" I sighed and then took a drink of my water. "Yeah. Does he work there?" "I think he helps out, yeah." Shaking my head, I continued, "I was thinking about the diner." Serving would give me cash in my pocket after every shift. "No." I looked up at him again, his face was stiffly set. "But, Charlie!" I whined. "Why not?" "The diner gets a lot of truckers, drifters, and vagrants." "But"

He cut me off. "No, Bella. Half the calls that come in to the station come from the diner." I sighed. I could tell that I wouldn't win. "Fine, what about the grocery store? Is that acceptable?" "What's wrong with Newton's?" "I don't want to work there. It's a sporting goods store, right? Look at me, Charlie, do I look like I know the difference between a grappling hook and fishing lures?" He thought about it for a moment. "I suppose the Thriftway's fine. But you have to keep your grades up. The judge said" Not wanting to hear about that asinine judge and his stupid agreement, I didn't let him finish. "I can keep my grades up with or without a job." The academics at Forks high left something to be desired, but that made it easy for me to pass without trying. After dinner, I finally called James from Port Angeles. The conversation consisted of him talking dirty to me and me pretending to care about it. And I hung up about as unsatisfied as I was when I called. ... On Friday, Edward had driven his own car to school. I had been relatively stoned when I saw him pull up, but it later dawned on me that he had driven to school alone so that he could take me to the store on Friday to buy food for Saturday's dinner. I hadn't been in his car since the ride home from Olympia where I ended a perfectly nice day with a crazy grope that hadn't even been addressed between us. He didn't bring it up and there was no way that I would. I met up with Edward outside of the school. Jacob had been a little put out that I had plans for the evening that didn't include him. But just like I'd reminded him before that I wasn't his girlfriend, I reminded him that I was no one's girlfriend and going out with Edward wasn't a date. We were doing grocery shopping. No romance going on inside of a grocery store. But it did give me a great opportunity to pick up an application. "A-ar-are y-you getting a j-job?" I looked at Edward and gave him a smile, seeing the sheepish look on his face. With an application in hand, it was obvious that I was trying to get a job. But I wasn't going to give him a hard time. Edward tried harder to communicate and took more care in speaking with me than most people. "Yeah. Less time at home, more money in my pocket." Grabbing a cart, I screwed up my face into a grimace. "Charlie wanted me to get a job at Newton's. How bad would that have sucked?" Edward smiled and I felt warm at the sight. "P-pretty bad." I pulled out a list as we entered the Produce Department. "Here, will you look at this and let me know if you have any of this shit at home?" Taking the paper, Edward's eyes moved quickly. "A-a-asparagus, b-b-beets, p-potato?" He looked at me again. "Ch-chicken and noodles has b-beets?" I smiled at him again and headed over to green rack. "No. I changed my mind. I think I'm just going to roast a bunch of stuff. It's pretty easy and very yummy." "W-we have p-potatoes." "What American family doesn't?" "W-what kind of apples?" I had toyed around with making dessert because if I was going to be in charge of cooking, I was going to fucking hook it up. And since Edward's favorite fruit was apples, I'd decided on an apple crisp. It was quick and easy and shouldn't garner too many questions about my diabetes. I was feeding a doctor after all and the last thing I needed tomorrow was a goddamned lecture about carbs and sugar.

"Y-you like b-brussel sprouts and b-b-beets? W-what kind of t-teenager are you?" I smiled at his joke and shook my head at the fact that I liked all the weird vegetables that most people my age had never even heard of. "W-w-why do you l-like to cook?" I sighed, heavily. I didn't like to cook. I fucking hated cooking. I've never enjoyed it. I cooked because if I didn't, no one would. "I don't like cooking, Edward. I like eating. Eating requires cooking. If I don't fucking cook, I don't fucking eat." It came out harsher than what I had intended it to. Edward inhaled quickly, his brow knitted together as he looked at his feet. In an instant, guilt flooded me. I hadn't meant to snap at him and I had no honest clue why I had. But what I did know what that I wasn't high enough to discuss some shit about liking to cook. Yes, I cooked. Yes, I was fucking good at it, but I didn't fucking like it. Why the fuck would I want to talk about the day Renee decided that I was responsible for cooking? Because at six years old, there's not much beyond dry processed cheese sandwiches that you can make without cutting or burning yourself. Nope, I wasn't going to go there and certainly not with Edward in the middle of a fucking grocery store. I wanted to be high now, but Edward looked like a fucking kicked puppy dog and I didn't want him to fucking feel bad. "I'm sorry, Edward." Licking my lips, I forced myself to stop looking at the potatoes and look at him again. "I justcook because I have to, not because I enjoy it or anything." "D-d-didn't your m-mm-mmmmom cook?" I rolled my eyes and pushed the rising anger down. "No. She didn't cook." His brow was still furrowed and his green eyes fucking burned me. "I cooked and if I didn't, I didn't eat." His lips shifted into an O and his cheeks puffed out as he tried to say something. From the shape of his mouth and the general sounds he was making, I imagined that he was trying to ask another question. Edward's hands balled up and he hit himself in the thighs. I wondered if he knew that he did that shit. "H-h-h-how old w-w-were y-you w-w-w-w" It wasn't hard to tell that he was nervous or anxious or something because he could barely get a word out without stuttering. He wasn't normally that bad. Again, guilt ate at me like acid from the inside. All he did was ask a question and then I kind of flipped out on him and now he wanted to know how old I was when I had to fend for myself. And it was just a question. I'd asked him questions. He trusted me enough to answer them. Even though I really, really, really didn't want to think about this shit, could I really just not answer him? If he had typed that question into an e-mail, would I answer it? "She just stopped feeding me one day. " Fuck, he looked like he was going to try to ask it again. Fine. "I was six, now can we buy some fucking beets or what?" What a way to crash and burn from what was a perfectly good high. I wanted to catch another buzz, but I was with Edward. I had gotten high around him in the past, but no matter how much I wanted to be stoned, I didn't want to do it around him anymore. It obviously bothered him. Not that I didn't want to be high around him, I just didn't want to get high around him. I huffed. Not at him, just at the whole thing. Grabbing the list back from him, I started shopping in earnest. I would need to remember everything for tomorrow's dinner. I was going to make roasted vegetables with rosemary chicken. And of course, apple crisp for dessert. I found the apples and read the descriptions next to the price sign for which ones would cook the best.

I didn't need to read them, as I already knew, but the distraction was welcomed as my mind decided that thinking about apples meant I should be thinking about Edward. And in its normal sober attempt at pushing me to think about other things, my brain moved from thinking about Edward to thinking about his question about my mother and cooking. And now I was thinking about Renee and the kitchen. I was thinking about the oven and the sharp implements. I thought about being burned and punctured. I thought about being hungry and having incredibly low blood sugar because Renee hadn't bothered to go shopping for us. I remembered having to stack up pots and pans on the upturned trash can so that I could stand on the counter and get into my mother's candy stash. And while I'd been happy that the sugar had made me feel better, I remembered how much trouble I'd gotten into when she found me shaking on the floor, a chocolate bar in hand. Some parents grab the video camera and record their six year old covered in chocolate and send it into America's Funniest Videos. Not Renee. Renee grabbed me by my hair, twirled me around like a sling shot and flung me against the wall. Afterwards, I "Fuck," I whispered. Turning to find Edward just looking at me, I excused myself to the bathroom. I didn't give a fuck if someone walked into that bathroom, I was getting fucking stoned. ... "That's nice," I said quietly as I sat in a chaise lounge, listening to Edward play the piano. We'd unpacked the groceries quickly. I was somewhat surprised that no one else was here. This house was usually bustling on Friday nights and it felt a little strange. We had planned to do something after grocery shopping, but my mood went south real fucking quick and no amount of weed could help it. We'd barely spoken since the exchange in the supermarket. I wasn't trying to be rude and I hoped that he understood. My high had started to fade and I was coming down. And as far as coming down goes, this one was alright. This room was dimly lit and the house was quiet except for the sound of Edward's piano. I had no idea what he was playing, but it was nice, calm and soothing to me. He played a few things. I only knew that they were different by the change in tempo. He never stopped playing, he just switched songs. I wondered how long he could sit there and play. It was hours before I sighed, my eyes fixed on the clock. I was completely sober and the new melody that Edward was playing further depressed me. It would be easy to dwell on everything I didn't want to think about. I wanted to get high or get laid. And while we had this entire house to ourselves, I had no desire to make him feel uncomfortable. I figured both would have that effect. "I think I should go, Edward." His fingers stilled on the keys and he looked up at me. Charlie had never given me a specific curfew, but I used the time as an excuse. "It's getting late." Glancing at the clock, his eyes grew wide. "Ssssssorry, B-B-Bella. I-I-I didn't know it w-was sssso late." I had no words to describe how his apology made me feel. I didn't want him to say that he was sorry because he lost track of time doing something he so obviously loved to do. "It's okay, Edward. I'm just tired." He stood up when I did and crossed the room to me, his brow creased. "Ssssorry we didn't do anything b-b-but shop a-and sssit here." But we had done something. He had played music for me and I had listened. "I had a good time,

Edward," I replied in a whisper. ...

Chapter 25: First Edition EPOV I knew Bella got high at the grocery store. It had been evident when she had returned, but I couldn't really be upset with her. I had pushed her into talking about it and I didn't know why I did. I hadn't thought that asking her about cooking would end like that. I didn't know why I assumed that just because she cooked, she liked it. We didn't talk much after we got back to the house. I couldn't think of anything to say and she seemed to withdraw into herself a bit. I played the piano for her, knowing that she had liked it when I played guitar for her that one day. She seemed so tired when she said she had to go. My fingers stopped their movements and I wondered why she seemed so small sitting over there by herself. She was usually such a strong and powerful presence, but tonight she was different. I drove her back to her house and we just sat in the car for a while. It was hard not to think about the last time I'd dropped her off and the mess I'd made of it all. I had my iPod plugged in, the song playing was quiet, one I knew she'd like. "Sorry about the store, Edward." Bella's voice surprised me when she spoke. It had been so quiet for so long. I felt my brow knit together. "W-what?" "I didn't mean to snap at you like I did." Looking into her deep eyes, I realized that it was the first time that I could see such bottomless sadness there. "I-it's okay." Bella's eyes slipped closed for a moment as she rested her head back. When she opened them again, they connected with mine and for whatever reason, neither of us looked away. I only looked away when I felt something take my hand that had been resting on the center console. Glancing down, I found that it was Bella's hands on mine. My palm was up and she had one of her hands under mine while her other hand's fingers stroked my palm. The sensation of her touch was no less electric than the last time. I took a deep breath and willed myself not to start breathing hard. I willed my heart to regulate its pace. She had turned her head, just a little, her eyes focused on something beyond my left ear. Again, I was struck by the magnitude of the sadness within her brown orbs. I had spent a lot of time stealing moments to look at Bella over the course of the last month, but we were physically very close in this moment. The skin of her cheek looked incredibly soft, but the area around her eyes seemed as though she were much older than seventeen. It was probably still soft to the touch, but the way she carried pain her eyes made it look harder somehow.

I wanted to touch her face, just to see if it was truly as delicate as I thought it would be. And before I could tell my hand to stop, it floated upwards, my fingers just brushing her cheek. It seemed to happen in slow motion for a moment, but then it gave way to a flurry of activity. Instantaneously, the pleasant and slightly zinging sensation on my other hand stopped and Bella shifted her head away from my outstretched fingers. The peaceful calm that had settled over us seemed to shatter as her teeth nibbled on her lower lip. Panic rushed through me; what had I done wrong? I shouldn't have touched her. That was obviously what had sparked this. She hadn't wanted me to and I did. Hell, I hadn't even been aware that I was actually going to do it until it my hand was doing it. I had no idea how I screwed this up again. My eyes fixed on her lips as I tried not to freak out. Her tongue came out to sweep across the pink flesh and her eye lids fluttered. "Did you return my e-mail?" Her voice was soft and quiet, but it was enough to pull me out of my spiral towards a panic attack. I had read hers this morning, but with Emmett's banging on the door and Alice's shouts that she wasn't taking too long, I hadn't had time to reply. "N-no, n-not yet." Running her hands through her hair, she swallowed hard and licked her lips again. "Well," she started but never finished. "B-Bella," I said after a few moments. Turning to me, she gave me a smile, not her true smile, but a smile none the less, and said, "See you tomorrow, Edward." I couldn't get out a goodbye for anything, although I tried. Bella waited for a moment, but when I couldn't produce much more than random sounds, she opened the car door. "Bye," she said as she slipped out into the darkness. I watched her as she ran up the steps to her front door, slipping the key into the lock and then disappearing through the door. As I sat there for a few minutes, I figured it all out. The central difference between Bella Swan and myself. I'd spent my whole life feeling every emotion and reliving every horrible moment, but Bella had spent hers avoiding all that, running from all those things, using anything and everything she could to justforget. Even the few words she said, admitting something deep and painful, were huge for her. And I knew that this couldn't be easy for her. ... I wasted no time when I got home. I ignored all distractions. Instead I found myself moving as quickly as I could to my room to answer her e-mail. Bella, I hope that you're okay. You seemed so sad tonight. I'm sorry if I caused that. Since it's late and I'll get to see you tomorrow, I'll answer your questions straight away.

I want to know things about you probably for the same reason you want to know things about me. I don't have many friends, Bella. It is interesting to know a new person. With Emmett, it's like reading an open book. He hides nothing because he just doesn't see the point. With Alice, she doesn't remember anything much from before I first met her, so I already know everything she knows and everything she likes, since she discovered it in real-time while I was around. But you are like the book on the top shelf, the first edition that not many people touch because it's way too precious. I know that there are things about you that I'll never know, and there are parts of you that everyone knows. But there is that area between those two extremes, the parts you don't show everyone, but the parts you're willing to share. I want to know that part, if you'll share it with me. And with me asking you to share, I share myself. I don't usually do that, Bella. I get upset, but it is usually on the inside and doesn't make its way to the outside. I typically don't let it because there's no point in it. I get upset about a lot of things. One specific thing would be being treated like an idiot because I have a stutter. I understand that it's a particularly bad stutter, but it's not like I stutter in my mind. My intellect is intact, and just because it takes me a minute to say two words, doesn't mean that my brain function is any less than that of someone who can speak fluently. There are many things that upset me, but there isn't much point in showing that to the outside world. The jerks of the world like Mike Newton would get far too much pleasure out of it and the overly helpful of the world, like Esme and Carlisle wouldn't be able to sleep until they cracked the code of why I was upset. I don't want to deal with any of that. I don't really miss living in Chicago. It is a perfectly fine city and it has most things that anyone could want in a hometown, but for me, too much happened there. To say I missed it would be like saying I missed everything that hurt me in the past. Carlisle likes to plan vacations and last year he suggested Chicago. He made it seem that he just wanted us to take in a big city, but it was fairly transparent that he thought it would be good for Alice and me to go back, just to see that it wasn't the city we didn't like, just our pasts. It didn't go over well. Even though she can't remember it, Alice knows that something happened there that she doesn't want to relive and I have no desire to go there ever again. I don't think I could do the job of a fireman. Emmett could, but not me. There is a lot of rushing into burning buildings and while I could probably get over my human instinct of avoiding flames, I would not only have to work very closely with people ,but to save them, I would have touch them and talk to them. Generally, it's a people job. I need a job where I can just sit in a room by myself and cure cancer or something. Maybe I'd have to talk to five people as a researcher, but it would be the same five people and I could grow comfortable with that. A fireman talks to the same people he works with everyday, but a fireman also has the potential to talk to hundreds of new people daily. That's not for me. The scar on my lip is from my teeth. For whatever reason, that skin is easy to tear. As for the bonus, if I could do anything without negative consequences, I would ask you why you're so sad. And now it's time for my questions and once again, I hope they don't upset you. Why did you volunteer to cook if you don't like cooking? How did you fall onto a fork?

Have you ever had short hair? How did you get the scar on your forehead? You knew Otis Redding because your grandmother used to listen to him. Did you spend much time with your grandparents? Bonus: If we call Australia "Down Under", do people in Australia call us "Up Over"? Goodnight, Bella. I'll see you tomorrow. I don't really know how to cook, but I promise I'll help as much as I can. Edward. Just like every time I sent an e-mail off to her, my chest tightened just slightly in anticipation of her reply. It was evident that we had moved past all the obvious questions about favorite this and favorite that. We were now firmly within the sphere of intense questions. I knew that my questions would make her uncomfortable, just as hers made me uneasy. But I also knew that both she and I would answer them, some more in depth than others. Just as there was a story behind my teeth creating the scar on my lip, I knew that there was more to her aversion to spicy food than just that spicy food 'can hurt.' And I knew without a doubt that one doesn't just simply fall onto a fork. But Bella wasn't about to share those things easily. I had compared her to a book in the e-mail and if she was a book, she was a book of poetry and only after constant study would I be able to understand her. She was abstract art; the picture in the clouds. So I would continue to ask her the questions and be satisfied with every small crumb of information she dropped for me. Eventually the bread crumbs would lead me down the path of knowing her. ... Saturday was the house was flood of activity. Of course Forks won the Homecoming game the night before, and Emmett had to recount it in the morning, play by play. I didn't mind; it obviously was important to him, but I couldn't help but tune some of it out. Touchdowns were one thing, but quarterback sneaks and 57 yard punt returns were something I cared little about. Alice, of course, was flitting around the house like an overactive hummingbird on a coffee buzz. She always took it upon herself to take care of all the details for big events like Homecoming and Prom. Alice not only had to supervise Emmett's choice of suits, but she had to make sure that his tie matched Rosalie's dress. And after a half hour of arguing, she finally convinced Emmett that green, red, and white striped socks were not appropriate for the dance, especially if his date's dress was some shade of purple that even I couldn't identify. Most of the day, I stayed on the outside of the action. I had no interest in the hair, the make-up, the ties and the overall anxiety that a dance like this caused in the Cullen house. Every once in a while, Alice would knock on my door and ask me if this hairstyle looked better than the last one. I always replied that it did. I didn't understand why she would ask me things like that since I clearly had no clue, but it was important to her, so I played along. After lunch and a little bit of guitar strumming, I checked my e-mail and was happy to see that Bella had replied. Edward,

If you did ask me why I was so sad, I would tell you that I'm not so sad. And I would tell you that you shouldn't waste your time wondering about things like that. Here are your answers: I volunteered to cook because it seemed like a good idea. If I have to have dinner with Dr. Hale, Dr. Cullen, and Charlie, it might as well be tasty. I told you that I cook because I have to, and I decided a while back that if I had to cook, I might as learn to be good at it. I like PB&J, but that's pretty much what I lived on for a few years, so sometimes it's nice to whip up a few days worth of lasagna or put together a fruit salad. I had short hair one time and I didn't really care for how it looked and it didn't accomplish the reason I cut it in the first place, so I let it grow back. The scar on my forehead is from the corner of a wall. Like the skin on the lips, the skin of the forehead is amazingly easy to rip open. And walls, especially the corners, are unforgiving. I never knew Renee's mother, but I spent time at my Grandma Marie's every summer when I visited Charlie. I usually got to spend a few days with her. I don't remember much about her. She died a long time ago. She used to let me eat windmill cookies and she loved strawberries. Why do you have a fixation on the fork, Edward? It's a meaningless scar that most people don't notice. Forks are pointy. I am clumsy. And it's been established, skin can give way rather easily. Bonus: If we call Australia "Down Under", do people in Australia call us "Up Over"? You're entirely too funny to be locked away in some kind of medical research lab. I'll be over in a few short hours, but I'll give you my questions. Why do you want to know about the fork? Do you know your grandparents? The news said it could snow this week. Do you like the snow? Why do you like that picture in your art book? The Flaming June one. Do you ever wish you could be someone else? Who would you be? Bonus: How are our baby brussel sprouts? I'll see you soon, Edward. B. ... "Just cut them the same size as the potatoes." Bella said, pointing to the vegetables on the cutting board with one hand and popping a piece of raw potato into her mouth with the other. She had shown me what she wanted with the potatoes. Now she would start preparing the chicken and leave me to my own devices. Her father was in the living room with Esme and Carlisle. They seemed to have a very loud discussion

about football. Every so often, I saw Esme going into the dining room. I was aware that she was looking in on us. "Oh my God, that smells delicious!" I looked up to see Alice enter the kitchen, pulling open the oven to get a better look at Bella's apple crisp. She wore the long green dress she'd bought for Homecoming over two months ago. "Y-you look p-p-pretty, Aliiiice." Closing the oven, she beamed at me. "Thanks!" Beets stain, so I went to wash my hands before continuing the cutting list. When I turned back around, I found Alice at the cutting board, knife in hand. It was innocent, I knew that it was. On some level, I knew that she would not intentionally hurt herself, but my lungs started to seize as I watched her eye the knife she held. Bella was busy rubbing the chicken with herbs and I was grateful that she was distracted. Very quietly and quickly, I moved back to the cutting board and carefully took the knife back from Alice. Alice stepped to the side, just slightly as her eyes stayed glued on me. It hurt to look back at her because it was clear that I had just hurt her feelings. And as much as I hated when Alice's feelings were hurt, I would hate it more if she stained her pretty green dress by accidentally cutting herself. And the sight of Alice with a knife was just too much right now. I just looked back at her. Her eyes grew wet and I felt horrible. "D-don't, Aliiice," I whispered. She sighed and then turned to Bella. "I wish I could eat dinner here, Bella. It smells unbelievable." "Thanks," Bella replied. "If I would have known that you were going to go all gourmet on us, we wouldn't have made reservations." Craning my neck, I saw Bella give Alice a smile. "No worries, Alice, I'm sure there'll be leftovers, and I'm sure I can cook for you another time." ... Bella's meal was delicious, but I wished that we hadn't had to eat it with Esme, Carlisle and Charlie. She and I were mostly silent at the dinner table, both only really responding when spoken to. "This is an excellent meal, Bella. Thank you for preparing it," Carlisle commented. "Yes, it's wonderful. Where did you learn to make it?" Bella looked at Esme and opened her mouth for a moment before closing it rather quickly. Her eyes flicked over to Charlie, then to Esme, then to me and finally, they rested back on Esme. "The apple crisp is from a cook book and the rest I just threw together." "Bells is a hell of a cook. She could go on one of those cooking contests on TV." Bella's brow creased as she looked down at her plate. Shuffling a potato piece around on her place, she shook her head. "It's not that good," she said under her breath. She was obviously not comfortable with compliments.

The topic of conversation floated between humorous incidents at the hospital and the police station, and the pros and cons of universal health care. Neither Bella nor I said a word. In fact, Bella didn't look up from her food until Carlisle said something about some kind of study he'd read concerning teenagers and sleep. Her face remained neutral as her father mentioned something about Bella sleeping until the afternoon today. "I was tired," she mumbled before taking another bite of apple crisp. "How has your blood sugar been, Bella?" Carlisle asked. Bella sighed and carefully rested her fork across the top of the bowl before taking a sip of her water. "Fine," she answered, her voice sounding fairly tense. "Fatigue is a sign of" "Yes, I know," she cut him off. "A sign of what?" Chief Swan asked. While Bella sighed again, turning her head to the side, her eyes fixing on some invisible spot on the wall, Carlisle turned to her father. "Diabetic ketoacidosis." I wanted to ask what the world ketoacidosis was and if it was a bad thing, but it would have taken me forever to try to say it, so I waited for Chief Swan to ask. "It is a condition in diabetics in which the blood sugar is elevated to near lethal levels." I watched as Bella's father flicked his eyes to her. It wasn't hard to see worry within them. "What are the symptoms?" "Charlie," Bella said in yet another sigh. "I'm fine. I take my insulin, I monitor my blood, and I'm fine." Her father looked back at Carlisle and waited for the answer to his questions. "Fatigue, vomiting, dehydration, excessive urination, and sometimes confusion which can lead to a coma." Bella was silent and didn't talk until dinner was over and we had cleaned up. I told her that she didn't have to clean up, but she shrugged and did it anyway. "Boy, who knew eating dinner with a doctor could be so fun?" she said as she plopped down onto my sofa. I smiled as I pushed play on my iPod. "Talk of vomit and urination during dessert was incredibly appetizing. Does he do that shit a lot?" Chuckling, I turned around to face her. Carlisle was fairly limitless and oblivious to how many disgusting medical facts and stories he told. Thankfully, she hadn't had to endure the STD talk or the picture of the cancerous lung. "S-sssometimes." I moved over to sit on my bed. At her sigh, I quirked an eyebrow at her. Bella just shook her head. "W-w-what?" "Can't you sit on your bed differently?" The confusion intensified. I had no idea what she was asking. "W-what?" I asked again. "Move back." I blinked at her, but immediately did as she asked, scooting back into the middle. "Now

fold your legs." Again, I did as she said, moving to sit cross-legged. "Doesn't that feel better? You look like you own that bed now." I smiled, still not really understanding her and even though I was going to sound like a complete idiot, I asked her again, "W-what?" "You always sit on the edge of your bed like it's going to fucking bite you or something. Now you lookchill." Something about her tone and the way she was looking at me made me nervous. I ran a hand through my hair and tried to think of something to talk about, even though I just wanted to ask her to run her hands through my hair. "The s-sssprouts are doing w-w-w-w, g-good. Do you w-want to g-go sssee?" Although she smiled widely, she shook her head. "Not now that you look so comfortable." I had to close my eyes for a moment and concentrate on breathing slowly. I forced myself to mentally play a Chopin piece in my head to relax my tensing body. All signs had been pointing to the fact that I had a thing for Bella. And knowing that made me anxious. "What's wrong?" I looked up at her and swallowed hard. How had we both worn green today? She was wearing a t shirt with the word 'Boo!" written on it and I was wearing the shirt the Alice had given me. Come to think of it, Alice had worn green to the dance. "Edward?" "Y-y-yes?" "I asked you what was wrong. For a minute there you looked like you just finished a marathon." Cocking her head to the side, she added, "But you look okay now." "I-I'm fine." As I sat there looking at Bella, I thought about something Esme had asked me a long time ago. She'd asked me what I would attempt if I knew I could not fail. At the time I had no clue how to answer, but today, I would try to be closer to Bella. I had never had these feelings for anyone else and they were powerful within me. But I had no clue how to 'be closer' to Bella and the likelihood of failure was pretty high. I was nothing like the guys she seemed to like, and I had no idea what she really thought of me. As I'd spent the majority of my life avoiding people in general, I was no student of human behavior, and I was having a hard time figuring out if she really wanted anything to do with me or if she was just trying to make the best of being stuck with me in her involuntary quest to be less screwed up. "B-Bella?" She looked up at me and I looked away just for a moment. "Hmm?" "W-why didn't you g-go to the dance?" "I told you, they're not my thing."

Shaking my head, I refocused my eyes on her. Her eyes looked exceptionally big and bright. "B-but you were in g-g-gymnastics. I-isn't dancing almost the ssssame?" Pulling her hair to the side, she exposed her neck and I caught sight of her small scars. It reminded me of her e-mail. She had asked me why I was fixated on it. And I truly didn't know why, but I felt bound to ask. Like I needed to know. She was always so guarded and even though she knew my life wasn't honeysuckle and roses, she still didn't share any more than she felt she had to. And it bothered me. I understood her silence, but I didn't like it. "It's not the actual dancing that's not my thing, Edward." Drawing my thoughts back to the question I had asked her before I got sidetracked by the question of the fork, I asked, "Then w-why didn't you g-go?" "A room filled with a bunch of people I don't really like isn't all that appealing, Edward. It's stupid. Stupid people subject themselves to rites and rituals they don't believe in. I don't want to go to a dance because everyone else is. I don't want to go to the dance for some kind of status booster." I took a deep breath and moved once more to the edge of my bed. If I knew I wouldn't fail, I'd have gotten up off of this bed and sat next to her on the couch. It wouldn't be the first time we were sitting close. We shared a lab table in Biology. There wasn't anything different about sitting next to her in Biology and sitting next to her on my couch. Absolutely nothing. So there was nothing to be worried, nervous, or anxious about. A tingle in my chest told me otherwise, but my body rose off the bed anyway even as my mind battled with itself. The couch wasn't far, but it seemed like a long distance for my feet to travel. When I was sitting next to her, I couldn't bring myself to look at her. I felt almost frozen in fear. It was incredibly new to me to actually want to be physically close to someone else. I wanted to touch her face like I had last night and I wanted her to run her hand through my hair the way she had before. I wanted this closeness because the currents of energy that flowed between us when we were close like this felt so good; so right. When I finally looked at her, she had sunken into the couch a bit, her head laid back. Her eyes were closed and I wondered if she was tired or bored or just comfortable. Her words seemed to tell me that it was the latter. "I love your room," she said quietly. Remembering that it was only last night when she had picked up my hand in the car, I thought that if I had no fear of failure, I would touch her hand. And despite the racing of my heart, my hand moved closer to hers, the fingers just brushing against the back side of her hand at first. The pads of my fingers glided over her smooth skin, feeling that same prickling feeling that made me shiver just slightly. Before I could let out a shaky breath at the fact that I had actually done something like that, my fingers curled around her hand. It was small, much smaller than mine, just as a woman's hand usually is compared to a man's. But it felt so fragile, like if I squeezed too hard, it would fracture into a million tiny pieces. There would be no squeezing though, since it took so much energy for me to even be able to do what I was doing now. But the fact that she didn't protest my touch didn't go unnoticed. Her eyes were still closed and I wondered if she even felt my hand on hers. Bella nibbled on her lower lip as her chest rose and fell more rapidly than normal.

And as the current song faded away, I knew the next in line was one that was practically made for moments like this, I thought that if I knew my attempt couldn't crash and burn, I would pull her up, bring her into my arms and dance with her. But only if I knew I wouldn't fail. ...

Chapter 26: Heavily Guarded EPOV It was as if I knew that I couldn't fail. My hand was already holding hers and she hadn't pushed it away. So it was almost like it was incredibly easy to stand up, my hand still attached to hers, and pull her up with me. Bella's eyes had popped open and for a brief moment, something flashed within them. Fear, panic, whatever it was had dissipated quickly as her eyes locked with mine. And as Otis Redding's rich voice broke through the thick air in my room, I felt emboldened. I was nervous, near panicking, and yet it seemed incredibly right and natural to be bringing Bella this close to me, as if bringing her into me. These arms of mine She wobbled just slightly as I tugged her up, her fingers gripping mine. They are lonely, lonely and feeling blue I stepped back just enough to pull her away from the couch and risked a look at her face. These arms of mine Her eyes were wide and her tongue swept out to lick her bottom lip. They are yearning, yearning from wanting you I heard her sharp intake of breath and I steeled myself for the rejection that I was sure to come. And if you would let them hold you But it didn't come. Instead, Bella let out a long sigh and her eyes narrowed just slightly as if she was confused. Oh, how grateful I will be One of my hands slid behind her as I wrapped my arm around her waist. I was amazed how well she seemed to fit in my arms, as if she had been made to be there. These arms of mine I swallowed hard as I mentally forced my body to behave and not react to the sheer nearness of her. They are burning, burning from wanting you

She smelled so good. These arms of mine Slowly and very, very carefully, I moved just a little, bringing her with me in a soft sway of our bodies. They are wanting, wanting to hold you. And for just a moment, her head was pressed into my chest and I wondered what she thought of my rapidly beating heart. "I can't really dance, Edward," she whispered into my green button down shirt. "N-n-neither can I," I whispered back. And so we swayed to the music her grandmother used to listen to in the middle of my room while her father, Carlisle, and Esme were downstairs and my siblings were at the Homecoming dance. I didn't have time to wonder how long she would let me hold her, because she was already out of my arms and across the room before the song was over. I watched as her hands glided along my books like she liked to do. I suddenly felt very empty, as though I'd lost a bit of myself. Rubbing my hands on the side of my pants, I just watched her pretend to be interested in my books. "I was putting the dishes in the dishwasher." I blinked at her soft voice, wondering what her words had to do with anything at all. "I'd been late coming home from school, so dinner was late and it was supposed to be some kind of 'special' dinner for her and whichever boyfriend she had at the time and I served it late and undercooked." Bella paused, taking a breath. "She waited until he left." I wished she would look at me. I wanted to see her, but now that I understood what she was talking about, I knew I wouldn't have been able to look at anyone either. "I was trying to get finished. I had homework and Renee's stupid cat had puked all over the floor and I had to clean it up. Usually I knew where she was at all times, but I must have been thinking about something else, because I had no idea she was in the kitchen with me." Bella stopped speaking for a minute, her index finger scratching at the wood of my bookshelf. She let out a deep breath. "I didn't know she was there until I felt the pain in my jaw. She hit me from the side and I stumbled. My legs hit the door of the open dishwasher and I couldn't stop myself from falling. I hit my head on the edge of the counter, but the searing pain in my neck was too much. It was the last time I ever put forks or knives with the pointy sides sticking up." "B-Bella," I started as I took a step towards her. I stopped when she turned quickly. "I have to go." No, that wasn't want I wanted. "D-don't." I took another step forward, but she pressed herself against the bookshelf. Her fingers were constantly moving, curling, straightening, twisting. Her foot was tapping on the floor, but not to the beat of the music as her shoulder shook a little. Bella looked like I felt during the onset of a panic attack.

I didn't want that for her. "B-Bella?" I took a step backwards, knowing that any movement towards her would just make her even more uncomfortable. "W-w-w-will you e-mail m-mm-mmme tomorrow?" I watched as she swallowed hard and took a shaky breath before finally looking at me in the eyes. She nodded. "But I have to go now." It was barely a whisper. I returned her nod and moved back to my bed. In sitting down, I hoped that I was showing her that she was free to leave and that she wasn't trapped. Quickly, she ran her hands through her long hair and moved to the door, muttering a goodbye as she went. ... I had gone downstairs for just a moment as Chief Swan and Bella were leaving because Carlisle and Esme would have expected it. Bella was quiet and wouldn't look at me. I really didn't take it personally. While I'd only known her for a short time, it was easy to see that she wasn't rejecting me with her silence. She avoided thinking about things, it was her nature. And she had just told me about being stabbed in the neck with a fork because her mother hit her. I understood her silence and she was probably feeling incredibly helpless or exposed. I doubted whether she had ever told anyone that story before. After she left, I decided that if I wanted her to e-mail me, I needed to reply to her last one, but it was relatively difficult to begin. Did I acknowledge what had just happen, throwing it back in her face and making her hurt again, even if that wasn't my intention? Or did I not mention it at all and let it be something silent between us until she felt comfortable with the information she shared? Bella, Thank you for dinner. Are you okay? Her first question had been about why I wanted to know about the fork. I had no idea if I should even address it or not, so I went to the other questions. Flaming June has always been one of my favorite pieces of art because of the use of color. Orange is so alive, so vibrant, so joyful. Even though she is sleeping, she is so awake, if that makes any kind of sense. I've always wanted to be like that, but have never been. I constantly want to be someone else. It doesn't really matter who I would be, just someone else. I like the snow. I hope it does snow. Chicago was very snowy but I never got to really play in it like other kids. When I met Alice, she made sure we went out and played. The first time, I had a good time and stayed outside entirely too long and snow got into my boots. Heating my feet back up hurt, but I think it was worth it. I don't know my grandparents. My mother's parents are or were somewhere in Ireland and my father's parents were dead long before I was born. Neither of my parents had brothers or sisters. I had to decide whether to bring up the fork or not, and without knowing how she would react, it was a tough decision. But she had asked in her e-mail and like Esme said, no one ever did anything they don't want to do on some level. Bella had told me about it, so some part of her wanted me to know.

I don't know why I wanted to know about the fork, Bella. It seemed important. There aren't many people who have fork scars on their necks. I'm sorry that your mother hit you and I'm sorry that she knocked you onto the fork. I'm sorry that you have to see the scar every day. Also, I'm sorry that I made you uncomfortable by asking about it. As for my questions for you, I have many, but I'll settle for just a few: It was true that I had many and they were all deep questions that would probably make her incredibly uncomfortable, so I decided to stick with mostly light subjects. She was uncomfortable enough for one day. What's your favorite smell? What is your favorite flower? Why do you like Jane Austen books? Do you like ice cream? There were so many things I wanted to ask her about tonight. I wanted to know if she felt similar to me about whatever it was that was going on between us. I wanted to know if she had completely hated the time she spent with me or if I ruined everything by trying to dance with her. I wanted to know if she even liked me as a friend. But thinking about some of the answers to questions she'd given me in the past, I thought that she did. Perhaps it would be rude of me to outright ask her something like that. And Bella wasn't a mean person, so perhaps she would lie to save my feelings. Why don't you dream about the future or have some kind of goal or idea what you want to be? It might have been the easy way out for me not to ask what I really wanted to, giving me a little more time to hope before the inevitable rejection came, but my intention was for it to be easy on her too. I knew that Bella didn't like talking about certain things, like her mom or anything associated with her life in Phoenix, and she'd given me so much in the past few days that I didn't want to overload her with asking her to answer questions about how she felt about me. That would have been selfish of me. Bonus: It's the last day ever before the earth explodes, what do you do? I hope you have a good Sunday, Bella. Can you come over sometime early next week so we can work on the project? Or I could come to your house. The plants aren't there, but we have to work on the report and we can do that anywhere. See you Monday, Edward The bit about going to her house was selfish because I wanted to see the inside of her house. Apart from knowing that she had a purple comforter on her bed, I knew nothing about the place where she spent so much time. She'd been in my room and seen my things and I wanted to see firsthand what was important enough to her to be in her room. It was probably presumptuous of me to think that she'd even want me to come over, but I couldn't

help but feel as though she and I had crossed some kind of invisible line in our relationship. These questions we asked, they had a purpose. She wouldn't answer mine if she didn't want me to know these things about her. And the whole thing had been her idea. Bella was confusing. She was a puzzle but she purposefully held back some of the pieces. It was frustrating and baffling and wonderful and exciting. These new pieces she handed me were bits of her heavily guarded secrets. And I understood why they were kept so secure. There were things locked within me that I felt like it would take the Jaws of Life to pry out, and yet some part of me desperately wanted to give them up freely to her. But not yet. If I hated Bella's mother before, I loathed her now. There was no funny, but a little scary story that accompanied the four little marks on Bella's neck. Instead, it was just scary. There was only pain and more confusion. It didn't matter how old Bella had been when it happened or what she did to deserve something like that because no person, any age, deserved to be hit like that. And the fact that she could have died because sharp implements were so dangerously close to major arteries made it that much more horrific. For I moment, I felt paralyzed as I realized just how close to death she could have been. It must have been bloody. It must have hurt. Forks, while being sharp, were sort of blunt as well. Thank God there wasn't a knife to accompany it, otherwise Bella probably would have died that night. I wondered if her mother took her to a doctor or if it was just patched up at home to avoid all of the questions that would have surely came at an Emergency room. I wondered if the dirty fork gave her an infection that her body had to fight off while it tried to heal itself. I knew of pain and I knew of almost dying and I wanted to give her little pieces of information like she had given me, but my chest seized just thinking about it. And I wondered what Monday would bring for Bella and me. She had a pattern of saying something or doing something that was real, or at least that felt real and then withdrawing. I wondered how much damage our pseudo-dance and her small confession about the marks had caused and whether she would even talk to me. I hoped that she would talk to me. I hoped that she would come over. And I hoped that she would feel like it was okay to be real. But I was prepared for it not to go that way. ... Sunday dinner was once again shared with the Hales. I was thankful that the main topic of conversation was the Homecoming dance and not college. I still hadn't sent in the applications and I didn't want to have to admit that to Carlisle or Esme. And while they talked about the gym full of streamers and what songs were played, I thought about my own dance with Bella. It was short, probably not even a minute, but she had let me hold her longer than I thought she would have. And when she moved out of my arms, I knew that it wasn't about me. I wanted to hold her again, to feel her body that close to mine. I wanted to feel that electric touch and the way her skin made mine tingle. I wanted to know if she felt a similar connection. I wanted to know her and I hoped that she wanted to know me.

I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to see her smile like she had in the meadow and in the book store. I wanted to take all those memories that made her so sad away from her. Her body had been warm against mine and so small. I had never realized how much taller I was. I wondered if Bella would let me dance with her again. I wanted her in my arms, pressed against me. I wanted to be so close to her that I could smell her. I wanted to be so close to her that she wouldn't have to share those heavily guarded secrets because they would just silently absorb into me. And I didn't just want to know her secrets, I wanted her to know mine. I was happy that she knew about my mom. I wanted her to know more. I wanted her to know about my father and about My chest tightened. No. I didn't want her to know about that. For a moment I couldn't breathe. "Edward? Are you okay?" I looked to Alice and gave her a small smile while I thought about Bella's hands in my hair, helping me relax. ...

Chapter 27: Quiet, Bella B POV I was freaking the fuck out. I had hoped that sleeping would take away the absolute terror I was feeling. Last night at Edward's house, I'd fucking danced with him. All fucking hands-around-the-waist, head-on-motherfucking-shoulder dancing. It was fucked up at that point, even if I kind of liked it. Fucked up! And then my stupid mouth went ahead and started talking, even though my brain told it to shut the fuck up. I'd told him about the stupid fork. I just knew that shit was going to happen. And I was pissed. I was so angry at myself for saying that shit. I was so angry that he kept fucking asking about it. I was so angry at being in Forks and angry at the stupid judge who told me I needed therapy. And I fucking hated that Bitch Hale for pairing me with someone like Edward. What the fuck was it about him? I spent years keeping things tightly locked up because who the fuck would want to hear it anyway and every time I was in the same room with Edward, I felt like telling him everything up to and including what my preferred cut of underwear was. Stupid! I'd gotten crazy high last night to make sure I'd get some decent fucking sleep in the hopes that it would calm me the fuck down, but did it work? Fuck no. It was ten o'clock in the morning on a fucking Sunday and I just kept wondering where the hell the working part of my brain went. Nothing good has ever come from telling people shit like that.

So while Charlie went out fishing and drinking, I got really fucking fried and found myself on a bus headed for Port Angeles. I tried like hell the entire ride to stuff Edward back into the Bronze Cullen box, but he didn't fit anymore. I'd told him I would e-mail him, but I hadn't even read his latest. I'd told him enough about myself and I was through with it. I was fucking over it. Once in Port Angeles, I walked around until I found a pay phone. It was ridiculously hard to find. I had no idea when pay phones disappeared from our urban landscape, but their demise pissed me right the fuck off. I was sure the phone companies couldn't afford so many anymore, but not all of us were blessed with cancer-causing cell phones. It took me forty-five minutes to find one and by that time my buzz had worn off. The old receipt was tucked in my back pocket and that was my sole purpose for coming here. Even if he couldn't meet up, it was better than fucking sitting around all day like a moon-eyed dip-shit, fretting over some stupid fucking high school boy who never stopped asking entirely too many questions. I was aware that I was the one who'd started the question-asking. Stupid fucking me. I would have never done it if Edward hadn't been so fucking interesting. But as I found myself dialing James' number, I did my best to push Edward and the shit he caused me to say and feel out of my mind. And as I found myself knocking on the door I'd been given directions to, I very nearly succeeded. And when I was inside the house, the guy I'd only met a week or so ago watching me look at his pictures on the wall, I'd managed to shove Bronze fucking Cullen out of my head. I was looking at a picture of James in combat fatigues standing next to some kind of large gun in the middle of the desert. "You were in the military?" Duh. "Yep." He came up close behind me. "Iraq, two years." "When did you get home?" I turned around, finding myself so close to him that I didn't even bother looking up into his face, I just put my hands against his t-shirt covered torso. There was no need to be coy. Both James and I knew what was going to happen and I'd never been a fan of playing hard to get. "Six months ago." "Do you miss it?" What the fuck was wrong with me? Why the hell did I insist on asking everyone fucking questions? Since when did I fucking give a shit about anyone? His hands moved from my waist up to my breasts and he pushed me back against the wall. "Do I miss almost being killed every day? Can't say that I do. They told me to go shove guns in people's faces and I did. But roadside explosions aren't as much fun as they sound." James stepped back, his hands leaving me as he lifted up his shirt, exposing some wicked fucking scars on his chest. "Thankfully the shrapnel that punctured the skin missed the heart and only tore through one lung. And even though my skin was on fire from the blast, it didn't consume me completely." Reaching out, I let my fingertips brush against the wide, smooth area of his flesh scarred from being burnt. I wondered momentarily if he was one of those guys that suffered from PTSD or some shit. It would be fitting that yet again I found someone in this fucking life that was fucked up. There were no normal people left anymore.

I couldn't help but gasp in shock when I found myself being picked up and carried up the stairs. My breathing was rapid as his strong hands gripped me with tight possession. I had to remind myself that this is what I'd come to Port Angeles for today. I had to once again push Edward from my mind, reminding myself that he wasn't my boyfriend and that no matter how damaged I was, I knew that nothing good would come from my ruining him like that, which I would eventually. I'd given Edward enough, even though I knew I'd given him next to nothing. No, that wasn't right. I'd taken enough from Edward and in return, I'd thought about shit I'd never wanted to think about and I was finished with it all. I was in James' room now. Clearly his wife decorated it. And I felt like shit letting this man kiss me like that in the middle of the room his wife had decorated. But it was what I thought I wanted. I wanted to feel this way. I wanted to hate myself just a little more because it was better than the alternative. It was better than thinking about fucking forks, and getting shoved into brick walls for playing in dirt, and cutting my hair in hopes that Renee couldn't rip it out like she was always so prone to do. And it was better than feeling the hope that Edward's friendship dangled in front of me. My thoughts were so consuming that I didn't realize that I was naked now. James was too, his hard cock jutting out, drawing my eyes away from his scars. I didn't know how old he was, but I knew I was too young to be doing this with him legally, just as I knew how im-fucking-moral it was to fuck another woman's husband. But as he pushed me back onto the bed, spreading my legs and placing his face firmly between them, I just couldn't care. "Oh, fuck," I breathed, loving the way he was making my body feel with the touch of his tongue. He was working me over like a fucking expert and I needed it. I needed this tingle he was creating. I needed the way his touch was driving every fucking thought out of my head and allowing me to focus on the heat spreading from where his mouth was attached to me. And as he pushed his fingers into me, pressing up into the spot that made my eyes roll back, I came. I hadn't thought I was loud. My eyes were closed, but popped open quickly when I felt his hand cover my mouth. "Shhhh. Quiet, baby. My kid's asleep. We don't want to wake him up." And while the information that I was not only fucking someone's husband, but someone's father settled in, I couldn't help but not pay attention to it. My brain was stuck on something else. Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. My body froze and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Even when James removed his hand from my mouth, I still felt it there. And as he said something about being a tease, I still couldn't get my mind to push past its paralysis. And when I felt the wall behind me, knowing that I was on my knees in front of him, all I could do was take the cock he was shoving into my mouth. Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. I wanted to be high. I knew that things were happening, that my body was moving and that he was moving with me, but I didn't exactly remember how I'd gotten on my back in his bed, but I knew he'd just fucked me and as he laid his head down on my stomach, I allowed it, but only for a few moments.

Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. Don't wake your mother. Finally, my brain let me control my body again. I needed to get away. "Get off." "I just did," he mumbled against my belly. I pushed at him. "Get off of me," I said again, using all my force to push at him and sit up all at once. "Where are you going?" he asked as I got up off the bed and grabbed my clothes. "What? You want to cuddle?" I tugged on my pants and glanced back at him. He shrugged. "Go find your fucking wife." And with that, I left the bedroom, pulling my shirt over my head as I went. ... I sat shivering on the bus home, my legs drawn up against my chest, my arms wrapped around them. I wished I had brought my one-hitter. I wished I had some pills with me. But I didn't. I wished that the orgasm I'd gotten had been enough to push through these things in my head. But it wasn't. So I was left to deal with the shit playing out in my head. Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. Don't wake your mother. I wanted to puke. I felt sick. Biting the inside of my cheek was the only thing that kept me from screaming on the bus. But the blood that pooled in my mouth did nothing to settle my stomach or my mind. I went quickly to the great big house that sat back from the road and hoped like hell he could make the shit stop in my head. I couldn't deal with this shit. I didn't want to deal with this shit. Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. Don't wake your mother. I shivered and rang the doorbell, relieved when someone answered. "Is Tyler here?" "Just give me something. Please?" I practically begged once inside Tyler's room. "You just said you had no fucking money, Bella. The shit's not free, you know." I nodded. "No, I know. I've got money, Tyler, just not on me." His eyes narrowed. "I'll give it to you, but you'd better pay me tomorrow, Bella." He moved over to his dresser, pulling open the middle drawer. "Now what do you want?" I peered inside, thankfully feeling myself go slightly numb at the mere sight of my choices. "That," I answered, pointing. "And a couple of those." It was only after a line was up my nose that I began to feel better. "Do you want to do one with me?"

Although he smiled, Tyler shook his head. "I sell that shit, Bella, I don't do it. It'll rot your brain, not to mention the cartilage of your nose." "'s fine with me," I said. "What do I need nose cartilage for?" I did one more line and shivered as the energy, the electrical charge, coursed through me. I stood up and ran my hands through my hair. "Thanks, Tyler." His eyes were hard and when I tried to leave, his hand wrapped around my bicep. "I fucking mean it, Bella. You'd better pay me tomorrow. I don't have time for this 'just give me a little more time to get the money' bullshit. Got it?" I nodded, sniffing as my nose tickled and burned. "Yeah," I breathed. "I've got the money at home, Tyler. I'll give it to you tomorrow." "Good." He released my arm, but one of his hands moved to my tits as the other came to press between my legs. His teeth were biting at my lower lip and my eyes slipped closed. Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. My eyes popped open and I pushed Tyler away, forcing me to stumble backwards until my back hit the door, the doorknob sticking me hard in my lower back. "I'll give you the money tomorrow," I repeated as my hands found the knob behind me. Tyler licked his lips and smiled. "Good." ... Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster that I had enough brain power to buy a few Vicodin from Tyler too. Monday was not going to be easy to handle. I got up and immediately smoked out when I realized Charlie was already gone and before Jacob had picked me up, I'd taken two halves of a pill. I hadn't slept at all Sunday night and had spent my entire night pushing thoughts around in my head. So I spent the first part of my day sleeping through all my classes. I liked it. I was sure that I dreamed, but I couldn't sleep long enough to remember them. Before I knew it I was smoking out again with Jacob in the woods. When I got to Biology, Edward was already at our table. I'd taken another half of the painkiller and was incredibly high and still very, very tired. "Hey," I said in greeting, my eyes never meeting his. His eyes searched my face and made me incredibly uncomfortable. I licked my lips and turned away as I sat. I should've bought more coke from Tyler yesterday. A bump would've been great right about now. I pillowed my head on my folded arms. "B-B-Bella?" I didn't look up at my whispered name, but I didn't want him to be upset if I didn't respond. He'd take that shit as me not liking him or something and then the kicked puppy look would appear. "What, Edward?" "Are y-you o-o-okay?" Closing my eyes, I hated what I heard in my head. Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. Don't wake your mother. I

nodded against my arms. "I'm good, Edward. Don't worry about me. I'm fine." "Are y-you g-going to take n-notes?" I shook my head. "No. I'm sure it'll be more of the same." I wasn't sure if he said anything else because I let my mind drift off on a codeine-induced wave of numbness. I fell asleep. Thoughts of beds and bodies in the hidden depths of night falling away from me. Before I could get into Jacob's car to leave school, Tyler's strong hand wrapped around my bicep. "You have my money?" Fuck. "I forgot it at home. Ow!" His hold on me tightened. "Jesus, Tyler, I have it, just not here." He pressed me back against the door of the car and leaned in close. "Don't play games, Bella. Give me the fucking money." "It's at home." "What the fuck, Tyler?" A voice growled behind me. I turned, very happy to find that Jacob had finally made it to his car. While Tyler moved away just an inch, he tightened his hold on my arm. I'd be surprised if I wasn't bruised by this evening. "You'd better tell your girl here that she needs to pay me my fucking money." Jacob's eyes shifted from Tyler to me and then back to Tyler. It seemed that his whole body sighed. "How much does she owe you?" "Sixty, and it's going to be rounded up to a fucking hundred if it's not in my fucking hands right fucking now." Again, Jacob sighed. His hand snuck into his pocket and he pulled out a wad of cash, pulling out three bills and shoving them towards Tyler. Finally, Tyler's hand released my arm and instead of feeling better, the release of pressure made my arm hurt even more. "Next time," Tyler said to me, his face still way too close to mine. "You'll have my fucking money before you get your shit." "Whatever." "No, not whatever, Bella. I'm not a fucking bank and I don't give out loans. You want some shit, you'll have the fucking money in hand first." "Fine, Tyler," Jacob cut in, this time moving grab my arm again and pull me towards him. "She gets it, okay?" "She better, Black." Tyler walked away and Jacob opened the car door for me. It wasn't until we were both inside that he said, "Jesus Christ, Bella." "What? I'll pay you back when we get to my house."

"That's not the fucking point. You can't keep Tyler waiting like that. He's not like me. I get my weed from laid back hippie folks who grow just to have something to do with their land. The people he gets his shit from are bad people, Bella. They'd have no problem killing him if the money wasn't right and let me explain to you how Tyler would have no problem kicking the shit out of you if owed him money." I rolled my eyes, but knew he was speaking the truth. "Don't be so dramatic, Jacob." "Don't be so fucking stupid, Bella." It was in my room when I shoved money towards him that he said, "You could say thank you." I was sure I could say thank you if I really meant it, but I didn't need Jacob saving me. If Tyler wanted to hit me over sixty bucks, it would have been fine with me. I could take a punch. My hands went to the button fly of his pants. "If you say please, I'll say thank you." ... I didn't go to school on Tuesday. The mere mention of "female problems" and Charlie flew out of the house, mumbling something about heating pads and a busy day. I had thought that it would've been a peaceful, restful day, but I had been wrong. There were even fewer distractions at home than there was at school. And fewer distractions meant more unbidden thoughts. So I slept. I slept from eight in the morning until ten at night. I vaguely remember Charlie knocking on the door, saying something about eating, but other than that, I was out. But I wasn't out in a good way. The good way was being so out of it that you didn't recall anything and certainly didn't dream. But I dreamt and as much as I had wanted to, I couldn't seem to wake from it. It was after eleven when I finally opened the two e-mails from Edward. The first was our usual question and answer. The second one asked just one question. Are you okay? Why the fuck couldn't he have just not cared like every other fucking person? Why did he have to be so damn concerned and shit? Couldn't he just want to fuck me like everyone else? Fuck, no. Edward had to be all kind and caring with his puppy eyes and motherfucking dancing to Otis Redding. No, Edward, I am not okay, I replied. But I'll answer your questions anyway. My favorite smell and my favorite flower are the same. Lilac. I like Jane Austen because her books are about things I'll never experience. She writes romance stories that are all about how tangled up one can get with all that shit. I like ice cream, but I don't eat it much. I don't dream or have career goals because what is the point? I could say that I want to be photographer, but who gives a shit? I'll probably just end up working at IHOP or something.

I don't think there would be anything I wouldn't do on the day before the earth exploded. You can come over tomorrow. I'm pretty sure Charlie caught more fish last weekend, so I'll cook you dinner. What's your favorite smell? Why didn't you watch cartoons as a child? Out of everyone in the world, why on earth do you want to be friends with me? You do realize just how fucked up I am, right? Do you realize that I'm not a good friend? Bonus: Is there anything that you've done that you wish you could take back? I'll see you in school tomorrow. B. I probably should have just cut the whole thing off with Edward, not even answering the questions and not letting him entertain the idea that he even wanted to be my friend. But I had to acknowledge that there was something about Edward that made me want to truly be his friend. There was something about Edward that made me need to be around him. But I was going to need to reign myself in just a little bit. I would allow myself to be his friend, but I wouldn't keep going the way we were. I had to remember how to keep it together. I certainly didn't need to continue to let myself get swept up into Who the fuck was I kidding? I was in pretty deep with him already and I could never take back what I told him. He knew now and he would always know. I barely slept on Tuesday and went to school on Wednesday powered by nothing but fumes. I remembered to eat only because Charlie reminded me during the few minutes in the morning that I saw him. I was pretty sure I'd fucked Jacob in his Rabbit before school but I wasn't entirely positive. I was high, not just from the pot on the way to school, but also from that sleep deprivation high that was not entirely welcome. I'd never slept particularly well, but I'd usually managed at least five hours. I did my best during school to retrain my mind again. I was in control of my thoughts. I was in control of what I felt and I wouldn't let myself get involved in the whispers of the past again. Edward was coming over after school and I would prove to myself that I could still keep my shit private. It was all about keeping it in a box and ignoring the crow bar Edward carried and used to pry it open. But in order to ignore, I tried to go on autopilot, which worked for the majority of the school day. I knew that I listened to Alice tell me about Homecoming and I knew that at lunch I nodded at appropriate places when the kids I sat with said something I was expected to listen to. I didn't fuck Jacob at lunch; we just smoked pot, neither one of us really talking. But autopilot failed in Biology. Of course, Edward was there, as he always was. My plan had been to sleep again. Surely, he would've understood that I was tired. But when I sat down, he slid a few crisp sheets of paper towards me. I looked down and recognized his very careful script.

"I c-copied my notes f-for you." I focused my eyes on the paper and looked at how well laid out the notes were. He was entirely too nice to me. Edward seemed to care when no one else did and I wanted to be pissed at it. I wanted to yell at him and tell him to leave me the fuck alone. I wanted to go back to being a nameless face in a crowd of kids. I wanted to take back my first day and do it over. If I could've, I would have never spoke to Eric. I would have never found myself walking with him and Prick Newton and Edward would have never bumped into me. And I wouldn't be stuck with all these fucking feelings. But I couldn't take any of it back and if I were truly honest with myself, I didn't want to. I finally lifted my eyes to his and gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Edward." And instead of trying to push Edward out of my mind, I tried to focus on him. I tried to drive away the memory of a man's voice telling me, Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. Don't wake your mother. ...

Chapter 28: Lonely Ears B POV The ride from school back to my house was awkward and strange, but that seemed to be our normal. Edward was kind, too kind and I was, well, I was whatever the opposite of kind was. He was so deserving of good things and I was so not. Our relationship had slipped into this murky gray pool of what the hell. He wasn't my boyfriend but he wasn't just a friend, either. I hadn't had many friends in my life, but I was pretty sure I'd never tell other 'friends' about a fork in my neck or having to learn to cook out so I literally wouldn't starve when I was just a little kid. I didn't know what to say to Edward. What the hell was I supposed to say to him? I wished that I could pull back all of those words I'd said to him on Friday and Saturday. No good was going to come from people knowing that shit. Even Edward. There was a change. It was subtle, and stupider people might have missed it, but I saw it. I saw the slight change in his eyes when he constantly studied me. The studying wasn't new, but something in his gaze was. I heard the even softer tone his voice held when he talked to me now. I wasn't glass, I wasn't going to break and I sure as fuck didn't need people thinking of me as 'fragile.' "Do you want some coffee?" I asked as Edward followed me into Charlie's tiny little kitchen. I knew he liked coffee and it would give me something to do. I didn't understand why I felt so fucking nervous around him. Charlie's house was kind of dumpy compared to the Cullen Palace, but I wasn't really nervous about Edward seeing it. He didn't strike me as one of those jerks who would look down on someone just because the house they lived in wasn't on the Tour of Homes every holiday season. "C-C-Carlisle doesn't l-like me drinking it ssssso l-late."

My head whipped around and I glared at him, and before I could hold my words back, I heard my voice snapping at him. "That's not what I asked, Edward." And there was that damn kicked puppy look and I took a deep breath. "That's not what I meant to say, Edward, I'm sorry." I wrung my hands together and let my eyes slip closed. "Dr. Cullen isn't here, so do you want some coffee?" "Y-yes." Great. I was the perfect fucking host, making my one and only guest feel like shit over stupid fucking beans and water. I started making the coffee and tried to figure out something to say to him that wasn't a total reveal of how fucked up I was or how fucking stupid I was now that I'd decided I wanted to go all gooey and share stupid shit with him. With coffee in hand, I mentally tried to prepare myself for showing Edward my room. It was nothing like his and I was pretty sure he'd think it was stupid. I wasn't used to having people in my room. In fact, the only other person to be in there was Jacob and I'd only allowed him in there long enough for both of us to get off. My hand rested on the doorknob and I turned around. "My room isn't cool or anything, so don't get your hopes up for some kind of interesting experience or whatever." Before I let him speak, I opened the door and walked through. "See?" I asked as he followed me through. "It's really just" I moved to sit on my bed and watched him look at my meager possessions. His eyes were on my computer. "Yeah, it's like fifteen years old or something, plus, it's a dial-up connection, so it pretty much sucks." He threw me a smile and it made me soften just a little. Even though it was strange having him or anyone, really, in my room, it surprised me to realize that I wanted him there. And as I watched him sit down in the old rocking chair in the corner, I realized that he fit my room. I didn't know what that meant, if it was me who made him fit or if it was just that he was made to be there. "D-did you ch-check your e-mail?" I shook my head, my eyes glancing back at the computer. "No." I felt like apologizing that I hadn't seen his reply, but I didn't. Edward said nothing; he just sat there, looking at my things. Turning his head to the side, he glanced at the books on the top of my dresser, the same dresser Jacob fucked me on a few weeks ago. It was a natural progression of my thoughts to imagine being fucked on that dresser by Edward. And my thoughts not only made me nervous, they made me blush. I didn't understand that at all. Every other male on the planet, outside of Charlie, was fair fucking game. I had no problem thinking sexual thoughts about any one of them, but thinking about Edward like that made me some kind of virginal girl that giggled every time I said the word dick in my head. "Um, so, how's Alice?" Talking about Edward's adopted sister who cut herself seemed like easier than sitting there wanting to fuck Edward and getting all embarrassed about it. "Sh-she's good. L-like I w-wrote to you, they're b-back to acting l-like it n-never hhhhappened." I shook my head, wondering how that could be. And then my thoughts turned to Blondie Boy Hale. "What was up with her boyfriend? I mean, how could he have just not reacted? I know you said he was emotionless or whatever sometimes, but how can he have heard that she was fucking bleeding and not

feel anything?" Edward took in a deep breath as his eyes moved to look out of my window. "J-Jasper's H-h-he" His mouth closed and he looked back at me. "I-I-I don't know if it's m-my p-place to tell you. N-n-no one else kn-knows. I m-mean b-besides us." I rolled my eyes at him. "Now you have to tell me, Edward, you can't just leave it like that. That's like saying 'I've got a secret and I'm not telling.' It's human nature for me to absolutely need to know now." "B-b-but it involves R-Rose and Esme t-too." "Even better." He still looked incredibly nervous which was not abnormal for him. I immediately felt bad that I was pushing him, even if I was only half serious. "You don't have to tell me, Edward, it's okay." He was silent for just a moment longer before blurting out, "H-he k-k-killed his dad." "What?" I couldn't hide my shock. I imagined many things about the Hales but never that. "H-h-his dad w-was m-m-mm-mmm... H-he w-w-w-would b-b-beat on all of them and one n-night he h-hit Esme and then R-Rosalie and b-before he could h-hit them again, J-Jasper t-t-took a b-b-baseb-ball b-bat and k-k-killed him." "Holy shit." I understood where Jasper was coming from. There was nothing wrong with ridding the world of one more asshole, but shit. Some people didn't deserve to live. That sealed it, Jasper was no longer Blondie Boy Hale and Rosalie couldn't be Barbie anymore. And as much as I hated it, Dr. Bitch Hale had to be Dr. Esme Hale. "How the hell does no one else know that? I mean, you can't keep it a secret in a small town like this." "They l-lived in N-N-New York then." I didn't know what else to say about that. It wasn't a wonder that Jasper could turn his emotions on and off and that Rosalie only displayed one emotion. It was amazing that somehow I'd found myself in the middle of the fucked up Bermuda Triangle. People weren't this fucked up in Phoenix. "I-I lllike your room." I couldn't help but smile. "No, you don't, you're just being nice." Edward returned my smile and I found myself enjoying it. He needed to smile more. "I-I-I do llllike your room, B-Bella." "There's nothing in it." His brow creased. "Y-y-you're in it." My smile faltered just a little at the sincerity of his voice. And again, I didn't understand how I could be perfectly fine having some random guy eat me out but when Edward said something all sweet like that, my insides tightened and I felt sick. Why couldn't I just be like every other girl and eat that shit up with a spoon? Why couldn't he be like every other guy and make non-subtle sexual innuendos and try to get me to suck his dick? I wished I was high. I wished I could just go get high but it would be rude. And I didn't want to be rude

to him. I didn't want to get high around him. I was fine with being high around him, but for some reason I thought getting high in front of him or around him would be disrespectful in some way. He equated me getting high with his mother's fucked up addiction and I didn't want to throw that in his face. I took in a sharp breath and forced myself to look away from his near-flawless face. I grabbed the large portfolio folder beside my bed and got up to hand it to him. "You wanted to see my pictures." My eyes focused on his hands as he reached out to take it. His fingers were long and elegant and his nails looked like they were kept better than mine. I'd touched his hand before; I'd held it. I knew exactly how soft the skin of his palm was compared to the slightly rougher skin of his knuckles. But I didn't know how that skin would taste. I found myself wanting to lick the back of his hand, to suck his fingers, to rake my teeth against the heel of his hand. My teeth clenched. I was supposed to be showing myself that I could control all that shit. That Edward was nothing more than any other guy. I was failing. Forcing myself to move, I went and sat back down as Edward opened the portfolio. I stole it last year. Renee wouldn't buy me one, but my class required it and I couldn't just tell them that my mom wouldn't buy me one because she wouldn't even buy me testing strips for my blood sugar. So I stole it. "I-is that your ear?" I nodded, knowing which picture he was looking at. "Why d-d-did you t-take a picture of your ear?" Sighing, I let myself sit back just slightly on my bed. I didn't know what it was about Edward, but somehow I always felt less guarded around him. It was like I felt that he wasn't trying to get something from me. Everybody always wanted or expected something from me, but Edward wasn't like that. "The assignment was a self-portrait based on a feeling or whatever that the teacher gave us." I shrugged. "I got loneliness." "Ar-are ears l-lonely?" Nodding, I answered, "Of course they are. They have a mate, a thing that is exactly like they are, only it's one the other side of the head." "A-are you lonely?" Edward and his prying questions. "Sometimes." He flipped the photograph and came to one of a rocking chair. "I won first place for that one." He looked up and smiled. "I l-l-llliiike it." Why did the fact that he liked that picture I took make me so happy? It was just a random photo I'd taken messing around with my camera and then when I developed film everyone was all like "that's so good." It made no sense. The lighting and shading, I agreed was good, but other than that, it was just an old fucking rocking chair sitting in the waning light of the afternoon.

But typically all the pictures that I thought were toss away photos ended up being favorites of other people. "W-w-what is this one?" "That's a needle on my favorite cactus in Phoenix." "Y-you have a f-ff-fffavorite c-cactus?" I smiled in answer "W-why is it your f-ff-ffffavorite? "It was right outside my bedroom window," I said, my mind picturing it. "I like cactuses or cacti or whatever the fuck they're called. They can survive for so long without life-giving water in the worst conditions ever and yet when you're thirsty in the desert, you can find water inside a cactus. It's just kind of fucking nuts." "W-why do you w-wonder wwwhy I w-want to be friends with you, B-Bella?" My eyes widened a bit at the unexpected shift in our conversation. I recalled the e-mail questions I had sent him last night. "Because I'm not a good person, Edward and you are." "How d-do you know that?" My fingers fiddled with the hem of my shirt. "Because I can see that you're a good person." "How d-do you know that you're n-not?" I sighed deeply. He didn't really want to know how I knew. It was evident that I wasn't a good person. He didn't really want to know about the guys I'd fucked and the shit I'd done. And if he did know, he'd rethink his friendship with me because he'd realize that the only thing I'd do was bring him down. "Do you want to help me make dinner?" I was clearly changing the topic and I was thankful that he let me. "Ssssure." But it wasn't time to make dinner. Charlie wouldn't be home for a while and I knew that if he were any other guy I'd jump him and fuck him blue. But he was Edward and I wanted brush the hair away from his face and make him smile. As much as that dance scared the shit out of me, I couldn't help but want to be close to him like that again. And most of me didn't care that it was wrong to want to be close to him. Most of me wanted to break all of my rules, but there was a part of me that was terrified of him. Terrified of the change he brought and petrified at the risk of hurting him. And I was pretty sure that no matter what I did, I'd end up hurting my very own Greek god with green eyes and a lopsided smile. He was waiting for me to move to the door. He'd put my portfolio on the dresser and was just studying me. "W-w-why are you sssso ssssad, B-Bella?" "I'm not a good friend for you, Edward."

I watched as he froze for a moment, his eyes looking like a wounded puppy. "Y-you d-d-don't w-w-want to be mm-mmmy friend?" My body felt heavy at the sadness in his voice. "That's not what I said. I said that I'm not good for you, Edward, and it'd be better if we weren't friends." Edward shook his head and suddenly I felt like I needed to warn him. I needed to get him to go away, to not want to be my friend, to not give a shit about me at all. I needed him to abandon his quest of getting to know me. "I'll ruin you." Again, he shook his head. "I-I've been r-r-r-ruined for a l-l-long t-t-time now, B-Bella." No. He wasn't understanding. "No, you're a good person, Edward, I don't want to corrupt that." "Y-you're a g-g-g-good p-person." Damn him. He didn't fucking get it. He should fucking leave. "Don't be blind, Edward." The look of panic wore off his face and it shifted into something like anger. "I-I-I'm nnnnot. I c-c-can ssssssee your f-f-f-flaws, B-Bella, b-but they d-don't make you a b-bad p-person." He was probably the only person on the planet who would sit here and argue with me about if I was a good person. It's pretty damn clear that I wasn't. "Please, Edward" "P-p-please w-w-what?" he asked when I didn't continue. I shook my head. "You don't even know me. No amount of e-mailing will change the fact that I'm not good for you." "N-n-no amount of y-your p-p-protests will mm-mmake me believe that you're n-not." "Edward," I sighed. Why couldn't he just see that I was trying to save him here? "If you d-don't w-w-want to be f-friends w-w-with me, that's f-f-f-f-f, okay, b-but you're sssssaying that you're n-not g-g-good for me and you d-don't kn-know w-what's g-good for me, especially if you think th-that I d-don't kn-know you because th-that m-means th-that you d-don't know m-me either." Dammit, he was right. If I said that he didn't know me, how could I say that I knew what was best for him? I could see his argument, but if he knew who I was, he wouldn't want to be around me. I wasn't a likeable person. I knew that. Hell, I'd fucking manufactured myself to be that way. I didn't want people fucking hanging around. My dad didn't. My mom for whatever reason hated me before I could even fucking walk. And if your parents were the people who were supposed to never leave you, always love you, what fucking hope was there for anyone else to hang around? And I didn't fucking need them either. I could take care of myself. I always had. "You're going to regret it, Edward." I wanted a Vicodin really fucking bad. With a pill, I could've gone to the bathroom and popped it quickly. He would've never known, but no, I didn't have anything and I couldn't smoke anything

because Edward was here and it would make him feel bad. Why the fuck wasn't I high? This conversation probably wouldn't even be happening if I was fucking high. "I-I thought w-we established th-that w-we don't know each other. Ssssso how d-do you know if I'll r-regret it?" One of his eyebrows was cocked and I had to let my mouth curve into a smile. "Who would have thought that I'd ever hear you talk back? Now you just need to do that shit with Newton." "I-I don't c-care about Newton, B-Bella." Edward's lips slipped into his crooked smile. "I c-care about you." "But don't you see that you shouldn't?" He shook his head in answer. Damn him. I sighed. As long long as I was going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly. "I care about you too," I said quietly. After what seemed like a long time, I finally asked, "So do we have to work on our brussel sprout report or what?" And after he nodded, it seemed like forever, but he finally pulled out his blue Biology notebook and moved to sit next to me on the bed. The more I listened to him tell me what we should do for the report and the more I watched as his eyes flicked back and forth from the pages of his notebook to my face, I wondered if I could have him and not ruin him. I licked my lips as my eyes focused on his. They weren't thin and they weren't a full-on boy-pout either. They were just perfect and I wondered again what Edward tasted like. And maybe if I tried really, really hard, I could not fuck this up. Maybe I wouldn't fuck him up. Maybe I could just Maybe I could just be normal and like a boy and hold his hand and kiss him. Maybe it was possible that Edward really did want me. Maybe he wanted me as a friend. Maybe, if I tried really hard, he'd want me as more than a friend. Maybe he could "I want to try something," I said, before I even knew I was going to. I was already sitting close to him, but I leaned in close to him very slowly. I could do this. I could do this and not fuck it up. I knew I could. "Just be very still," I whispered, afraid that at any sudden movement I'd freak out and grab his crotch again. He sucked in a ragged breath and I froze just briefly. "Don't move." Very, very carefully and very, very tentatively, I managed to press my lips against his. His lips were soft and giving, making me want more and more of him. Edward tasted sweet, not like candy, but like beets, sweet with the underlying earthy notes that accentuated the sweetness even more. His sweet flavor, coupled with the peppery orange smell of his skin sent my senses into overdrive. I was suddenly very, very hungry. I wanted to devour him. I wanted to grab a hold of him and press against him until I sank into him. Or more accurately, he sank into me. I wanted to knock that stupid fucking notebook out of his lap and maneuver myself on top of him, pressing my heat down onto his and smashing my tits against his chest. Maybe his chest would taste different than his mouth. I needed to taste that too and if his chest was different, it would stand to argue that his thighs would have their own tastes. And if his thighs tasted unique, then the Flying Spaghetti Monster only fucking knew what his cock tasted like.

I wanted him. I wanted his body in mine. I wanted his stuttering voice and his too deep green eyes. I wanted his awkwardness and his pain. I wanted Edward. And when I wanted something, I took it. Usually. But with Edward, if I took, I was certain I would break him. I didn't want to break him. I wanted to make him whole. So instead of rubbing myself up and down the length of him, instead of letting my hand roam his entirely too sexy body, instead of even pressing my lips harder into his, I pulled back. Letting my tongue flick out and savor Edward's flavor on my lips. When I finally opened my eyes, I found him practically shaking in front of me, his eyes wide and his lips pressed tightly together. Fear seized me as it never had before with any other boy or man. He didn't want me. Not like I wanted him. Not only did he not want me, but I disgusted him. I wasn't surprised. If I were him, I'd be disgusted by me too. I was a horrible person who took way more than I could give back. I knew that the things I did, the people I did, weren't secrets. I was nowhere near virginal. "I'm sorry, Edward," I whispered, but his chest continued to rise and fall rapidly. He looked absolutely panicked, so I did the only thing I knew to do. I ran my hands through his dark rusty hair and whispered again, "I'm sorry." I braced myself for his rejection, sure that he realized how wrong I was for him, in every way, no matter what kind of relationship we were in. But his breathing slowed as my fingers soothed his scalp, I let my eyes slip closed and let myself pretend just for a moment that neither of us were fucked up and both of us were whole. I wondered where I'd learned how to soothe anyone or anything. Warmth encompassed my hands and my eyes opened. Edward's hands were wrapped around mine and he moved them down from his hair. When they were lying between our bodies, he didn't let go. His gaze was intense on mine, his eyes burning into me. Maybe he didn't hate the kiss. Maybe I hadn't fucked up. He was still breathing hard, but he no longer looked like he was going to pass out. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. I could apologize again, but I wasn't sorry for kissing him. I was fucking proud that I didn't wrap my legs around his waist and ride him for a week. "B-B-Bella?" I didn't know what he was saying my name like that for. I didn't know if he had a question or wanted me to explain what the fuck just happened. We could figure that shit out later. I was still just floating on the rush of having done that with him. I pulled my hands away from him. "Charlie will be home soon. Let's start on dinner."

...

Chapter 29: The Healing Power of Worms E POV Bella had just kissed me and I nearly freaked out about it. When she apologized for kissing me, her words made my body ache. I wanted her to be happy about kissing me. I wanted her to want me. But then her hands were in my hair and I thought that maybe she was happy about it but thought that I wasn't. I said her name, hoping to clarify or get clarification from her, but she just said that it was time to make dinner. But I wanted to talk about it. I wanted to understand what just happened. I wanted to finally be on the same page as Bella. Her fingers threaded through mine again, only long enough to tug me up from the bed. Her hand dropped mine the moment I stood up straight and as she reached for the door knob of her bedroom door. I stopped her with my voice. "B-B-Bella? Wh-wh-what are w-w-we?" I didn't want to sound or seem stupid to her, but I honestly didn't know what I should be classifying our relationship as. "I can't be your girlfriend, Edward, if that's what you're asking. I can't" She was so confusing because while she said what she said about not being able to be my girlfriend, her hand moved to curl around mine for just a moment. Again, she pulled it away so quickly that I wondered if I'd imagined it. "Y-you don't h-have to be mm-mmy g-girlfriend, B-Bella." And it was true because I didn't have any real or concrete notion of what the terms boyfriend or girlfriend entailed. But I knew that I wanted to take care of her. Her brow furrowed as she shook her head, her eyes fixed on my feet. With a sigh, she opened the door and without another word, led me downstairs where she started cooking. I'd offered to help, but she seemed to be in a world of her own, so I sat at the small kitchen table and watched her cook a meal, not because she wanted to but because if she didn't cook, she felt like no one else would. As she moved around the kitchen, grabbing knives and dishes, fish and potatoes, I felt myself relax again. She had let me in her house, in her room and her lips had been pressed against mine. Other than the tensing of my body as a whole, there was no other embarrassing reaction on my part. Honestly, I didn't know what I would have done if I'd gotten an erection like last time. But she had sort of scared me a bit with all of the 'don't move' and 'be still' stuff. The memory of her lips against mine made my skin hum and I wished that we were back upstairs in her room. Because even though we had argued a little, her room was still a comfortable space. Her room was a reflection of her. It was fairly empty with only a few things tacked up on the wall, like if she had to, she could leave in five minutes without leaving anything of herself behind. Bella was just like that, I supposed. Even though I knew that she would be around, she didn't seem permanent.

She had books, although nowhere near as many as I had, stacked up all over her room and there were piles ofstuff all over. There was a stack of loose leaf paper by her old computer monitor and a pile of folded clothes at the foot of her bed. She had about three handfuls of loose coins mounded up on the far side of her dresser. She didn't have any pictures up on the wall, but she kept her portfolio sandwiched between her bed and her night stand. Her room smelled like her. It felt like her. I wished that she had something up on her walls though. I wished she had just one picture. It didn't have to mean anything really, but a calendar of nature photos or some random page out of a magazine would have made it seem like she was actually planning to live in that room longer than just one day at a time. My thoughts were on Bella and clearly I was thinking very, very deeply because I hadn't realized until the man was in the same room with us that her father had come home. I was usually hyper-aware of when people entered the same room I was in, but this time it took him clearing his throat to catch my attention. I stood up immediately as if I had been caught doing something incredibly wrong. I found him studying me in a way that made me intensely nervous. I shifted and I tried to calm my breathing. I didn't want to have a panic attack in front of Bella and her father, but I as my lungs seized, I felt almost powerless. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat, hoping that her father wouldn't require me to speak but knowing that he would. "Charlie, Edward's staying for dinner." Tearing my eyes away from her father's unreadable face, I glanced at Bella. She was still assembling ingredients into a pot like it nothing major was happening in this small kitchen. "He is, is he?" I looked back at Chief Swan and saw him shrug as his eyes studied me. "Okay," he said after a few moments of scrutiny. With one more glance at her, Bella's father left the kitchen. My body relaxed and the wave of panic ebbed. I spent the rest of my time at Bella's house studying their relationship. Bella didn't look at him once, but he snuck a few peeks at her during dinner. Even when he would ask her random questions about her blood sugar or a class at school, they never made direct eye contact. It wasn't until Chief Swan started asking me questions that Bella even looked up from her plate. "So, Edward, your brother's pretty good at playing football," he said, the awkwardness apparent in his voice. Emmett was good at everything. "Do you play any sports?" "N-n-no, ssssir." But I wished I did now because he obviously liked football and being able to talk jock-speak with him would make things easier. Not that talking about anything would ever be easy for me. "You have Biology with Bella?" I nodded, but he wasn't looking, so I had to use my voice. "Y-yes, ssssir."

"Bella says that you two are working on a project?" "Y-yes, ssssir." He looked like he wanted more details than that, so I tried to supply them. "W-w-we're g-growing b-b-br-br," I tried to say the word brussel, but failed horribly. "We're growing brussel sprouts, or at least Edward is, but I already told you that, Charlie." The table fell silent after that. It wasn't hard to feel the anger that rolled off of her like waves. I didn't quite understand where it came from since just moments before, it hadn't felt like that. It was clear that their relationship was strained at best and I wondered how their everyday interactions differed from the interactions on display for me tonight. Unless he hurt her in some way, I would have thought she would be much happier to be away from her mother, who obviously hurt her a lot. But Chief Swan didn't seem like the hurting type. That was not to say that I didn't think he couldn't hurt someone. I'd seen him restrain Jasper at least twice when Jasper's emotional overload festered into thinly concealed rage. The one time at the diner, the only thing that saved Jasper from any real consequences had been Chief Swan pointing out the fact that the other guy had been over twenty and Jasper had only been seventeen at the time. But still, Jasper was on a last chance basis with the Forks Police Department. One more time and he'd be prosecuted. When dinner was over, Chief Swan moved to the living room where the TV was turned on and he popped open a beer. I tried to help Bella clean up, but she wouldn't let me. She took my plate and glass out of my hand and I found myself sitting at the kitchen table once more, watching her. I left shortly after she finished the dishes. I wanted to reach out and pull her towards me. I wanted to feel her hands in my hair and her lips upon mine again. I wanted to make her happy and see her smile. But none of those things happened. She handed me back my bag, which she retrieved from her room while I stood awkwardly by the door, and ended the night was a "see you tomorrow." When I got home, I hoped that I'd have an e-mail from her, but she said that she hadn't even read my reply to her yet, so I reread mine before turning to mess around with my keyboard. Bella, Why aren't you okay? Can I help? My favorite smell is bergamot. I didn't watch cartoons when I was young because I wasn't allowed to. We could only use the television to watch the evangelists and only during certain times of the day. Just like with dirt, he was particular about things like that. The television couldn't be on from noon until five at night and then it had to be turned off by seven. Questions three through five confuse me as to why you asked, but I'll answer them as honestly as possible. I want to be friends with you because you're a good person and you're kind to me. I don't realize that you're not a good friend and I don't know how 'fucked up' you are. But I'm the same way. I wonder if you realize that. As for the bonus, I think everyone's done at least one thing that they would like to take back. One small example was when I suggested to Alice that she step away from Jasper just long enough to logically analyze their relationship. I would take back ever saying that to her. Not that I was able to say it like that. The words I chose to say were simple and direct. She took them wrong. It was two years ago that I said it, but she still thinks that I was trying to get her to break up with him.

That wasn't the case. Now my questions for you: When did you know that other people's lives were different than your own? Did you ever tell anyone about how you fell on the fork? Do you like playing video games? Why didn't you come to live with your dad sooner? Are you happy? Bonus: Did you turn in your job application yet? I'll see you, Bella. Edward ... On Thursday, I smiled at her in the hall and although my heart swelled when she gave me a little smile back, it hurt a little too. Her eyes were too glassy, her movements were slow and deliberate and I knew she was high. But the pain in my heart was less noticeable when my brain registered pain in my chest and abdomen. Mike Newton was apparently on the warpath and I was in the line of fire. His shoulder had connected with my ribs again and before I could let out a pained breath, he had me up against the closest row of lockers, his hand at my neck. "She is so far outside of what a fucking retard like you could get, C-C-Cullen. It's pretty much only in your wet dreams that she'd touch someone like you." He leaned in, his face just inches away from mine. "Just so you know, I doubt she'll be thinking of you when I'm balls deep inside of her." He laughed. "But I'll be sure to tell you what she feels like from the inside." Before he released me, the fist of his other hand connected with the side of my torso and as much as I tried to keep it in, I grunted. "Go cry to your big brother, C-C-Cullen." And for the rest of the day, my ribs and side hurt. The only bright spot was Biology where it didn't matter that I had watched Bella leave the cafeteria like always, following Jacob Black because she slid a bag of Gummi Worms across the Formica table top towards me. And as I ate one, I suddenly understood why doctors gave children suckers. The Gummi Worms made me feel better. "W-w-will you c-come over today?" I had no reason to expect her to say yes since we hadn't planned it and I was basically ambushing her after Biology, but I wanted to spend more time with her. Bella's eyes widened slightly. "Um, yeah, sure, but Jacob's taking me to turn in my application." I didn't want her to go places with Jacob Black. It was irrational, I realized that because she wasn't my girlfriend and even if she was, she was able to make her own choice of friends, but I couldn't help it. "W-w-we could take you there, if you w-w-wanted and then go back to m-my house."

"Well, I already told him that we'dthat he'd take me." I knew I wouldn't be able to hide my disappointment, but I tried to convince myself that I had no right to be disappointed. Bella would do what she was going to do. She had kissed me, twice now, so I should've been somewhat confident. But with Bella it was so hard to tell what she was thinking. She could very easily have kissed me last night and then not spoken to me for a week. "I'll be over around four, okay?" I just nodded, happy that she was speaking to me. "Don't forget your Gummi Worms, Edward," she said with a smile as she stood up from our shared table. "I'll see you, okay?" I nodded again and watched her leave the room before standing up and finding my way to the administrative office to see Ms. Rice. ... "I m-meant w-what I ssssaid, and I ssssaid w-what I m-meant. An elephant's fffffaithful, one hundred p-p-p-p" I sighed and stopped trying. The word percent wasn't going to come out, so there was no use in trying. My hands were balled up on my thighs and my eyes were squeezed tight. "Edward, just relax. You were doing quite well. Just work through that block." Slowly, my eyes opened back up and I saw Ms. Rice's patient face. It wasn't just as easy as 'working through' a block. It involved a lot of concentration and effort and I wondered if she even knew that. But I had to try because if I didn't, I would never get better and I had a goal of having a normal sounding conversation with Ms. Rice one day and it wouldn't happen if I just stopped trying. So I thought about music, but as my lips pursed together to try to form the word, it didn't get easier. And then my thoughts naturally floated to Bella. And then to Bella's hands and then to her hands in my hair. I didn't know why that was so soothing to me, but it was. "P-p-percent." "Very good, Edward." "W-why do w-we always r-read Dr. Sssseuss b-b-books?" She smiled at me. "Because once you master Seuss, you can master anything. And I'm not just talking about people who stutter, Edward. Most people can't make it through Fox in Socks without stumbling. Seuss is a mainstay for people looking to master public speaking." Ms. Rice held out her hand and I gave her the book. "Whatever you used to relax just now, was perfect, Edward. You need to do that exact same thing next time you encounter a block." Thinking about Bella was not going to be a problem. ... At home I checked out my side and torso, grimacing at the bruising Mike's shoulder and fist had caused. Graduation was only a year and a half away. That thought was a relief on one hand and induced panic on the other, so I switched my thoughts to Bella. When Bella arrived at my house at a quarter after four, she smelled of pot and I knew that the reason she didn't want Emmett to take her to the store to drop off her application was because she wouldn't have been able to get high.

I wondered if she just always got high or if it was because of me. She wasn't inside more than thirty seconds before Alice grabbed her hand and literally dragged her over to the Wii, practically forcing her to bowl and then to drive circuit after circuit on Mario Kart. She was about as good at it as I was. Everyone told her as much and even Rosalie laughed when Bella's avatar fell off the side yet again. She was still on her first lap when the others had finished the race. Bella tossed the wheel to the side. "I'm done." I was afraid that meant that she wanted to go home, but I was relieved when she stood up and took my hand, pulling me up as well. I saw Rosalie scowl and wondered why. When we were out of the game room, Bella continued to hold onto my hand, but just barely. Her small finger was hooked around my index finger. She broke our link, our connection when we were in the kitchen. "Do you want me to cook you guys something?" "C-Carlisle will be h-home ssssoon." "That's not what I asked," she said, not really sounding annoyed like she had when she'd asked about the coffee. "I can cook him something too." "And Esme w-will be here t-too." Bella sighed but shrugged. "I get it, the whole family. I can still cook you guys dinner." "You d-don't have t-to, B-Bella." "You don't want me to?" "N-no, I mean, y-yes." I sucked in a breath, worrying about how badly this all was coming out. "I-I-I mmmmean, if y-you w-w-w-w" Her hand moved to cover one of mine. "Edward, please relax. I just asked about dinner, okay? Nothing major or panic-causing. I know that I don't have to, but I don't want you to eat anymore bad take-out." I couldn't help but smile and tighten my fingers around hers. She was so beautiful. "W-w-we bought brussel ssssprouts." Bella beamed. ... "It's official. Bella's my new favorite person!" Emmett declared loudly. I looked to Rose, knowing that she'd react to his exclamation. I was right. Rosalie raised an eyebrow and then licked her lips which had settled into a frown. "Well, I hope that Bella likes six-foot-five eight-year-olds because she can have you then." "Aw, Rosie, I was just joking. You know that you'll always be my ultimate favorite person. This food is just really good."

Rosalie wouldn't look at him. Bella's eyes were focused on her plate, but she said to Emmett, "It's just chicken and noodles. Don't go breaking up with your girlfriend over it. You can buy this shit in the frozen section and it's probably better than this." Alice gasped quietly, her eyes bugging out just slightly. "What?" Bella asked. "We don't cuss at the table, Bella." Glancing around, Bella didn't apologize, instead, she asked, "Why? They're just words and it's a table. I don't think it minds." Esme cleared her throat while Carlisle smiled. "You must enjoy cooking, Bella," he asked. I immediately tensed up for her. She had already told me that she didn't really enjoy it; that it was just necessary for her survival. I thought she might've gotten upset or angry like she did when I had asked her, but to my surprise, she kept her head down and replied, "It's easy and people seem to like it." "I'm impressed that a teenager can appreciate brussel sprouts and the squash you incorporated into the last meal." I glanced over at Esme, who wasn't looking at Carlisle while he spoke. She was studying Bella. I hoped against all hope that Esme wouldn't be clinical tonight. It was bad enough that I'd had to share Bella all night with everyone. I didn't want Esme to upset her by spewing shrink questions. "I don't really have a choice, do I?" Bella's eyes were fixed on Carlisle. "Most vegetables are low in carbs and are low on the glycemic index. Plus they taste good." "How is your father?" Esme asked. "Charlie's fine." "It's a shame he wasn't able to join us." "I didn'tI mean, he wasn't invited. I didn't even know I was coming over until sixth period and I didn't decide to make dinner until five-thirty or six." "Does he not know that you're here?" Bella sighed and shook her head. "Does he need to know?" "You don't think he might want to know where his daughter is?" With a shrug, Bella asked, "Why would he need to know?" For a moment Esme just looked at her, but then flicked her eyes to Carlisle. "I'll call him," Carlisle offered. "Bella," Esme started as he stood up. "Your father is responsible for you. He needs to know where you are at all times, don't you think?"

I could see Bella's jaw tighten as her teeth clenched. "He hasn't bothered with that shit for seventeen years. Why would he suddenly need to know now?" Bella set her fork down and pushed her plate away. Everyone was silent for a moment and it was uncomfortable. "B-B-Bella?" She looked up at me. "D-d-d-do you w-want to" "Yes," she said quickly, standing up. I followed suit, unsure if she knew that I was asking if she wanted to go to my room. Maybe she thought I was asking if she wanted to go home. Maybe she was tired of being here. Maybe Rosalie's illogical jealousy and Esme's questions made her want even less to do with me. But Bella headed to the stairs, not the front door. I relaxed. "How can you stand being around her all the time?" she asked as I closed my bedroom door. "Sssshe didn't m-mean to upset you, B-Bella." "What is she even doing here? She's not your mom and she and Carlisle" "It's j-just easier b-because E-Emmett and Aliiice are d-dating Rosalie and J-Jasper." "Whatever," she said with a sigh before sitting down on my couch. I wondered if I should sit by her. Was that acceptable in light of everything that had transpired between us? I wondered if she'd allow it or if she'd even want me to. I didn't want to risk it, so I sat down on my bed, scooting to the middle and crossing my legs like she had suggested last time. "I e-mailed you last night," she said quietly. My eyes flicked to the computer. I should have checked it after school. "I-I d-didn't read it yet. I'm sssssorry." Bella smiled and it made me feel calm. "It's okay. Do you want to do something on Saturday?" My heart leapt! "Maybe go back to that field with the flowers?" As much as I would have loved to, I didn't think we could. "It's ssssupposed to sssnow." Her face wrinkled up and she looked almost horrified. "W-w-what?" I asked. "I've never really been in snow. I mean, maybe when I was too small to remember. I don't think I'll like it. How about you?" "I-I'm from Ch-Chicago. There's l-l-lots of ssssnow there." "I meant beyond liking it, like you said in the e-mail, what do you think of it?" I shrugged. "I d-don't really have an opinion on it." "Are you aware that you only stuttered once in that sentence?" I hadn't been aware, but I knew that for whatever reason, I always felt so much more comfortable and confident when it was just the two of us.

Looking at her, I let one side of my lips curl up. "Y-you make it easier f-for m-me to talk." ...

Chapter 30: Pushing E POV We'd been in my room for nearly an hour before Bella stood up from the couch and stretched. She was so beautiful. I wondered if she knew that. I mean, really knew how beautiful she was. As her back arched and her chest jutted out, I forced myself to look away. The sight of her elongated body was going to end up causing me embarrassment if I let it. And I wasn't going to let it. She glanced at my books, like she always did, her fingers gliding over the spines before she turned to look at my instruments. Reaching out, she strummed the first guitar Carlisle had given me and then glanced down at my computer desk. Then she picked up the envelopes sitting next to my keyboard. "Yale. Princeton. Stanford. Washington. Colorado. Harvard?" Bella turned to look at me. "What are all these?" My body tensed just slightly as my heart beat faster. "C-college applications." "They look all set to go. We go right by the post office on the way home. Do you want to take them tonight?" I shook my head. "N-no." Bella just looked at me for a moment. "Why not?" I was sure my face showed my panic and I shook my head again. "Does college make you nervous?" I nodded in response. Sighing, she set the envelopes down and shrugged. "Maybe I'll apply where you apply and we'll just go to the same school." That would be wonderful. I wondered if she knew how helpful that would be to me. "A-a-are you p-p-planning to go?" "To college?" I nodded. "I don't have applications all filled out, sealed and ready to go like you, but maybe I'll go." I was sort of shocked. Most people our age already had solid plans or at least had schools in mind. "You d-don't know?" She shook her head. "I-it's not ex-expected?" "Charlie hasn't mentioned it and Renee never cared about, well, anything to do with me, really, but school especially. No, I take that back, she cared enough to convince the teachers that she was a decent mom, but when I turned eighteen she'd be rid of me either way, so she didn't care about applications and all that."

"D-do you w-want to go?" I watched her shrug. "Maybe." I furrowed my brow. How could she not know if she wanted to go to college or not? "B-but you're ssssso sssmart, B-Bella. W-why w-wouldn't you go?" Her eyes darkened a bit. "Why do you have finished applications just sitting around in your room?" I knew her question was asked out of defensiveness and I didn't answer. "There's no real point for me to go, Edward." "W-why not?" She sighed. "I'll most likely be dead or something." The smile she gave me wasn't real. Fear struck me at her words, fully realizing that she really wasn't joking. Graduation wasn't that far off, did she really think that she'd be dead before college? Was she actively seeking it? "B-B-B-Belllllll," I couldn't even get her name out, dragging the l's until I gave up. I needed to focus on something to keep the fear from escalating into panic. Again she sighed. "Come on," she said as she grabbed the envelopes. "Let's put these in the mail. I have to get home." ... "B-B-Bella d-d-don't. N-n-not y-yet." Her hand paused as it opened the drop shoot of the mail box. "What? You need to send these in. I might not want to go, but I know these applications are due very soon." "B-b-but, B-B-Bella, I" "Edward," she said, her voice calm, "You're going to go to college. You know that. The only way to get there is to be accepted, and the only way to get accepted is to apply." My hands clenched and I pressed my fists into the top of my thighs. She was about to drop the envelopes into the mailbox and then the applications would be out of my hands and into other people's. "B-B-B-B" "Edward," she said again as she withdrew her hand, still holding the envelopes. "They're pieces of paper, and it's just college." But it wasn't just college. It was new places, new things, and new people. It was the fear of not being good enough, the fear of people not understanding, the fear of rejection and the fear of never being anything more than the stupid stuttering guy in class. College required at least two years of a foreign language. There was no way that I could escape two years of Spanish or Russian or German without having to speak it in front of people. "I-I c-c-c-can'tI-I d-d-don't w-w-w-w" I was getting anxious and nervous and I could feel it within my body. I didn't want to have a panic attack in front of her. I didn't want to have a panic attack over

college applications. Her eyes softened and she sighed. She moved away from the mailbox, licked her lips and stopped next to me. She put the envelopes in my hand before reaching up and stroking the side of my head, her fingers tugging at my hair. "Just put them in the box, Edward. Then you don't have to worry about it anymore. It'll be done." I gripped the envelopes tightly and closed my eyes, concentrating on the feel of her hand in my hair. "What was it that Churchill said? 'If you're going through hell, keep going'? The only way out is to keep going, Edward, and all you have to do is walk to the box, open it up and let those fucking things slide out of your hands. It'll be okay and you won't have to think about it anymore." I knew she was right. Logically, I knew that it was ridiculous to be frozen to this spot outside the Forks Post Office. But I couldn't help it. I wished it was easier for me to do this. I wished that I was like every other teenager and only put it off because I was lazy. Oh, how I wished I was just lazy instead of frozen in panic and fear. The thought of her applying with me calmed me a little, but I had no way of knowing if she truly would., and even if she applied, it didn't mean that she'd be accepted. She wasn't stupid. She was quite smart, actually. I'd seen the grades on her tests when Banner handed them back. Through our conversations, I could tell she was very intelligent. But if she did apply and even if we were accepted into the same school, I had no guarantee that she would go. "B-B-Bella," I gasped, unprepared for the intenseness of the situation. I was sure we looked stupid and if Mike Newton saw us, he'd be extra cruel tomorrow, but I couldn't get myself to move. I wanted to just put the damn things in that stupid blue box. I wanted to do it because Bella was there and she wanted me to. My brain yelled at my feet to move, but they wouldn't. Although I wasn't gasping for breath like during a regular attack, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to disappoint her, but I wasn't able to get over the fear and panic that was holding me down. I had no idea how long we stood there like that, until I was finally able to open my eyes, but it was only because Bella removed her hand from my hair. "You can mail them tomorrow, Edward," she said, her voice quiet as she gave me the out that I needed. I let out a deep breath. "But food for thought," she said as she moved away from me, moving closer to my Volvo. "You're way too smart to flip burgers or pour concrete, Edward. A job is a job, but they're not for you." She turned her back to me. "There are people everywhere. Not all of them are assholes, but most are. Don't let the fact that you don't know them fuck your life up." She opened the car door and I looked down at the letters in my hand and sighed. I felt completely sick to my stomach, my head was swimming, and I felt like I was drowning in a sea emotion, but I sucked in a deep breath and said, "Y-y-you d-d-d-do it." I thrust out my hand, gripping the envelopes tight and making them wrinkle. Bella turned around. With a half smile, she said, "I'm not going to walk all the way back over there if you're not going to let me really do it this time." I held my arm out farther. "P-p-please?"

I closed my eyes as I saw her come back towards me. My breathing sped back up as I felt her take the papers from my hand. I nearly choked on my heart when I heard the creaking of the metal drawer. I had to concentrate really hard on not vomiting. "There. Now Edward's going to college and there's nothing he can do about it. So there's absolutely no reason for him to worry." I sighed. "W-why are you t-talking about me in the th-third p-person?" When I opened my eyes, I saw her smiling. "Because I'm telling you that you're not going to worry." I swallowed hard as she tugged on my arm, but then released it. "Now that that's over" It was a long moment before I could move my feet, but when I did, I found myself no less stressed about the applications than before. However, now the stress was accompanied by sadness at the fact that I would be taking her home. I made myself move and I forced myself to drive her to her father's little house. When I pulled up at the curb, she turned in her seat while unbuckling her seat belt. "Do you feel better about it now?" I knew she was talking about the applications and I didn't want to lie. "N-no." "You will. Don't let that shit bother you so much. You think entirely too much." "Sssssorry." Bella chuckled and threw me a smile. "I don't want an apology. I like that you think too much, but don't convince yourself that you can't do something." "I-I'm ssssorry." "Stop." "I-I c-c-c-can't, B-Bella. I-I d-don't w-w-want to," I stumbled, "l-let you d-down, b-but I j-just c-c" My words were cut off and I was suddenly aware that Bella was on her knees in the passenger seat facing me. Her hands moved to my hair and I took in a deep breath. Suddenly, her lips were gently brushing over mine. It was entirely too short. I wanted more. I reached out to take her hand like she'd had mine, but she pulled away. "I have go. Charlie's," she said, "probably" Bella sucked in a deep breath and opened the door. "D-do you w-want me to w-walk you to your d-door?" Bella turned and smiled at me. "It's not 1918, Edward. I'm a big girl and I think I can make it to the door all by myself." I hadn't meant to insult her. I wasn't trying to imply that she couldn't make it there herself. "I'm sssssorry, B-Bella, I d-didn't m-mean to" She smiled again. "You worry too fucking much, Edward. Thanks for the offer, but if you come to the door, Charlie'll probably look to intimidate you some more and there's no need to give him the idea

that he has the right to care about who I'm out with." I thought back to what Esme said at dinner, about it being Charlie's responsibility to know where she was and who she was with. I wondered why she couldn't see that. I had no idea about their relationship, but she seemed like she gave him a hard time when he tried to do what most normal parents did, which was to keep tabs on their children. It was easy to see that she was angry with him, but I didn't know why. He hadn't been the one to knock her onto a fork or lie about her injuries or stop feeding her when she was little. As much as I knew that Carlisle wasn't my blood father, I respected him for taking me in and making my life a little bit easier. "C-c-can I t-t-take you t-t-to school t-tomorrow?" "Jacob's already planning on picking me up like usual." Oh, right. Jacob. I tried to keep the crease off of my brow, but failed. The disappointment had to have been clear on my face. "But you can pick me up on Monday, if you want." Without waiting for my response or looking back at me, Bella got out of the car and jogged the short distance to the front door. One thing was for sure, Bella Swan was confusing. ... It took a great deal of concentration to drive home safely. After Bella had left the car, I allowed myself to recognize that I was half-hard. It was uncomfortable. I sat in the garage for fifteen minutes until it went away. Incredibly thankful that the evening hadn't been a replay of the night after Olympia, I entered the house and tried to avoid everyone. The Hales were still over and I really didn't want to socialize, but that was the usual. In my room, I powered up my computer and looked for Bella's e-mail, feeling the need to make sure I returned it tonight. There was a message from Imabell, just like she said there would be. I didn't fully understand why, but I felt like I was waiting for the carpet to be pulled out from under me. Surely, she couldn't have actually kissed me and there was no way that she meant it, whatever 'it' was. Somewhere inside, I was waiting for her to figure out that I wasn't worth her time or energy. Edward, Do you want to do something on Saturday? I'm turning in my application after school on Thursday. I've never played video games before. Not really my thing, I think. I'm not sure what your first question is really asking. When did I know that other people's lives were different than mine? I don't know. Probably pretty young though. I went to this girl's birthday party when I was in kindergarten and she lived with both her parents.

They had a dog and flowers everywhere. Her mom and dad kept hugging her and telling her that they loved her and how it was her birthday and that meant it was her day or whatever. That pretty much showed me that what I had with Renee and Charlie was insanely different than what other kids had with their parents. I've never told anyone about the fork. Why would anyone care about it? The hospital seemed to believe that I slipped and fell, even though the bruise was on the opposite cheek. If the hospital, filled with doctors and nurses who are supposed to be fucking trained to figure shit out didn't care, why would anyone else? I told you because you kept asking. I didn't come to live with my dad sooner because he never invited me. And even if he had, who the fuck knows if Renee would have let me? She might have hated me, but she needed me. She can't cook, doesn't understand the concept of separating colors from whites, and refuses to clean up after a cat that she decided to adopt. Am I happy? I am as happy as I can be. When you close your eyes and think about someplace that's completely safe and comfortable, which place do you see? What do you want most out of life? Did your dad have OCD or something like that (in regards to the mud and the TV)? If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, what would it be? Do you believe in luck? Bonus: How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? And don't think I'm joking. I really want to know and figured you might know that shit. I'll see you in school, B. I wasted no time and composed my reply. Bella, I'm sorry about the applications. I must seem rather weak and pathetic to you. I don't really know why I couldn't do it. You're right, I know that I'm going to college, but the act of sending those applications in was just daunting. Just to clarify, I would love to do something with you on Saturday. We never really decided on anything. When I close my eyes and think of the place I feel most comfortable, I would have to say that it's my room that I see. It has all of my things and that makes it comfortable and no one comes in here unless I want them to, which makes it safe. One song for the rest of my life? That's impossible to answer. Probably something by Chopin. I never get tired listening to his works. His Nocturne #1, Op 9 is probably my favorite. I'll play for you sometime. I don't think I believe in luck. I'm not sure. If I did believe in luck, then I've never possessed it. When good

things happen, I don't think it's luck. And sometimes bad things happen and I would hate to think that something as vague as luck would cause it. My father didn't have OCD, as far as I know. He had some very firm religious beliefs that he imposed on everyone around him. He was obsessed with this notion of "clean living means a clean heart and a pure soul." Television and video games weren't clean. Actually, it extended to most forms of new technology. It wasn't that he was afraid of it, of the change it brought. It was more that he saw it as corrupted and corruptive. So that explains the TV. As for the mud, I've thought about it and all I can come up with is that mud and dirt were the literal/physical manifestation of his internal thoughts. Jesus walked in dirt, so I don't understand why my father hated it so much. So now for what I want out of lifeI feel like I need to think about this for a while. I think I just want to find some lasting form of happiness. I always feel good when I'm playing music, but I can't play all the time and while I tend to have music on my mind quite a lot, the feeling isn't the same. So I would like a happiness that could saturate and seep into me. As for the bonus, I don't know anything about woodchucks, but I could Google it for you. Some questions for you: Who is your favorite Harry Potter character (assuming you've read the books)? If you had a supernatural ability, which one would you want? What's the last book you read, outside of books required by school? What do you want out of life? Do you like your dad? Bonus: What do you want to do on Saturday? I'll see you on Friday. Edward I played around on the keyboard again, trying to get the wispy notes of a new piano composition that had been playing in my head to come together. Sometimes composing took an awful lot of concentration and other times it did not. This time, while it was mostly written in my head before I ever even touched the keys, there was something just missing. My mind wandered as my fingers flowed across the keys almost of their own accord. Was it too late to hope for an e-mail from Bella? Should I hope for it? And how exactly did I feel about the fact that she'd made me send those college applications that had been sitting around for over a month? She'd been right. I did feel better about it now, but the anxiety wasn't gone. Because in a few days or a week, someone would be reading those applications and deciding whether or not I'd be good enough to go to the school they represent. If no one wanted me, I didn't know what I'd do. I had no backup plan. On the other hand, if every school accepted me, I would have to choose which school I wanted to go to for at least four years. That was a huge decision I felt like I was ill-equipped to make right now. The fact that I'd most likely go to a school other than Stanford, meant that I would be alone. Without anyone. Without Alice. I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle any of that.

It was technically Friday when I finally moved away from my keyboard and slid over to check my e-mail. I took in a deep breath and recognized the excited feeling I experienced when I saw that she had, in fact, replied. Edward, Stop apologizing, especially about things that are outside of your control. I don't know what to do on Saturday. What do you normally do on Saturdays? I have read Harry Potter. Favorite character? I would say Ron. Yeah or Sirius. Ron because he's pretty damn average as a wizard, but still gives everything he has to stand up to defend what he believes in, and Sirius because the dude survived prison and torment to try and right the wrong of his best friend being killed. I'd probably want to have mind-reading as my supernatural power. The last book I read without it being for school was The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test. Super fucking interesting, but you probably wouldn't like it. Charlie's okay. He leaves me alone for the most part. I wish he didn't have this idea that he has the right to be a father now. My favorite time of the year has always been the summer, simply because I got to come here and be away from Renee. He and I never did much but go fishing. Or, rather, he went fishing and I shoved Jacob into the mud for pulling my hair. Or we watched TV. Some summer vacation, but it was always better than the alternative. All I want out of life is for all the assholes of the world to leave me alone. I don't really need a lot of things, and despite what everyone thinks about that car, I've never stolen anything simply because I've wanted it. Honestly? All I really want is a little quiet. I like the quiet. My question for you (yes, only one): Why did your mom do it? I'll see you tomorrow. One day closer to the weekend, thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster! Let's figure out about Saturday tomorrow, okay? B. ... On Friday, even though I was delighted to see Bella in the hall before first period, Mike Newton slammed me into a row of lockers again, his fist connecting with the same damaged flesh he'd hit yesterday. I gasped in pain. "What do you think, C-C-Cullen?" he asked, nodding over towards where Bella stood talking to Tyler Crowley. "She's looking particularly fuckable today." Bella was wearing a small black t-shirt with a gray thermal under it and what Alice would call black "skinny jeans".

"Do you think she likes it rough, C-C-Cullen?" My thoughts went inappropriately to random made up images of Bella in various positions and I fought against it. I didn't want Mike to be thinking of her like that and I shouldn't either. "Tyler says she does. He said she got off hard when he slammed into her. Tyler's a big dude and he says that she took every fucking inch while he smacked her ass." Mike's fingers tightened around the back of my neck. "I bet her mouth could do wicked things to my dick." I shook my head slightly as I took in a deep breath. Mike slammed me against the locker again, the back of my head starting to smart. "Keep fucking her in your dreams, dude, because I'm next in line to tap that shit." He leaned in closer, "And you're a bigger fucking loser than I thought if you think she'd really go for someone like you. Unlike Jessica, I bet Bella knows exactly what a good lay is, and C-C-Cullen, you aren't it." His hand moved to grip my hair and it was the complete opposite of when Bella's fingers were in it. "Newton!" His hands quickly moved away from me and he took a step back as he looked up at Emmett's burning red face. "Hey Emmett," he said nervously. "Edward and I were just discussing the Biology homework while taking in the fine sight of Swan's tight ass." Emmett took Mike, one hand on his forearm, the other on his shoulder, and shoved him down the hall. "Edward," he sighed as he watched me pull away from the locker. "Pop that guy in the mouth, will you? He'll stop if you just hit him once." I sighed and shook my head, feeling the creeping terror at the thought of hitting Newton. "I-i-it's o-okay, E-Emmett." Both he and I knew that it wasn't okay, but I'd taken all of the cruelty that Mike had to give ever since I moved to Forks years ago. I didn't think I'd up and change that now. I didn't want to fight. So I moved quickly alongside Emmett, ignoring the pain that shouted at me from my body. ...

Chapter 31: Calm and Peaceful Sea B POV I went to school on Friday with twenty bucks in my pocket with the sole intent of getting Tyler to sell me some of the morphine pills he'd had in his middle drawer. I'd called him and told him that I had the money. Morphine was so much better than Vicodin. I knew that taking one before school started would leave me pretty mellow and numb until lunch or maybe a little longer. If I was lucky. The pot just wasn't working to kill the voice in my head that told me to be quiet and not to wake my mother. As soon as Jake's little Rabbit parked into its usual spot, his hand moved from the gear shift to my leg. His other hand removed his seatbelt as he leaned in closer to me. I turned my head away and sighed. "Fucking still?"

I shrugged and gave him a smile. I'd told him that I was on my period yesterday morning. It was a complete and utter lie since thanks to the 'miracle shot,' I hadn't had an actual period in years. But it was easier than explaining to him that since I'd kissed Edward, I was having all these fucking feelings that told me that fucking Jacob would be wrong. Even though I wasn't Edward's girlfriend, I knew I'd still felt guilty about that shit. It was fucked up. I was fucking horny as hell and there was someone currently sitting to my left who could give me satisfaction, but my stupid need to do right by someone who was not my boyfriend kept me from it. Fucked up. I didn't know what the hell I was hoping to get out of any of it. There wasn't anyone in this world who was worth giving shit up over. I knew where this was headed. I could see the flood of heartache and pain and yet I couldn't stop my stumbling feet from taking me down the Edward path. Tyler sold me the morphine without drama, and I was thankful. Once the pill was digested and the opium was coursing through me, I felt pretty damn decent. Morphine was like floating on a cloud while blanketed in bubble wrap in the middle of a calm and peaceful sea. The day sped by thanks to the floating and the sleeping I did during class. I was awake and fully functioning by the time lunch came around, so I'd downed another pill with my water and nibbled on my PopTart. I wasn't hungry, but my insulin was injected already, with the sweet pastry puff already planned for and counting towards my carbs. I drifted outside and smoked out with Jacob. A soft smile plastered on my face, I glided on into Biology with just moments to spare before the bell rang. I meant to say hello to Edward but it came out sounding more like a lustful, "Mmmmm, Edward." And lustful over Edward, I was. I spent most of the hour ignoring the fact that there was a lecture occurring, and instead of listening to Mr. Banner, I blatantly stared at Edward. He was perfect and sexy and the motherfucker had no idea. He totally had no clue that he was sexy as fuck and if he'd just fake a little confidence in school, he'd have most of these bitches hanging off his junk. Not that I wanted any of them on his junk. In fact, I probably would have fought a bitch over his junk. Edward remained blissfully unaware. I didn't think he had any idea that his sexy-but-not-too-pouty lips were making me clamp my legs together. He was clueless as to what those fucking gorgeous green eyes and extremely long eye lashes could do if given the chance. If he had only a little more confidence, he'd make every fucking girl in this school come by just looking at them. His hands were absolutely exquisite. They were beautiful with long, strong, elegant fingers. They were marked. Both hands had small divots and tiny, barely noticeable scars littering them. His right hand was gripping his black ink pen tightly as the fingers on the other hand constantly curled and uncurled around the closed text book on the desk. Edward's chest was rising and falling more rapidly than most people's would, but it was a strong chest. He had broad shoulders and narrow hips and his lap made me want to crawl up on it. I could've totally fucked him. I would lick his neck and taste his skin while I straddled him. I'd do most of the work, but his hands would be on my hips, pulling me forward and pushing me back at erotically even intervals. My hands would grip his chest, using the hollows of his collar bone as handles as I rode him. I'd also bet he was relatively well-endowed. Poetic justice like that was rampant in this world, and nothing would be more right and in-tune with what "should be" than Edward wielding a massive cock. It would fill me up and take away the ache that was ever-present. I would sink down on him and become whole, if only for the long minutes we were connected like that. I would make him pant, make him grunt. I knew he wouldn't be like some guys, who were practically girls the way they screamed their way through sex. I could see him biting his lip and casting his face

up towards the ceiling, his eyes shut, while his quiet sounds told me how far along he was on the path to orgasm. Fuck me, and those fingers that looked so fucking sexy strumming a guitar would dig into the flesh of my hips and my ass. As he was quite a bit larger than I was, it would be nothing for him to lift me up as we were still connected and press me back into the wall. My legs would automatically wrap around and lock at the ankles behind his back and he'd take over thrusting up into me while I held on, burying my face in his neck. He'd smell so fucking good too, like grass and citrus, and I'd flick my tongue out against him once more, just to taste the saltiness of his skin. The wet, flat stroke of my tongue would own him and make him shiver as he pressed against me even more, his chest putting pressure on my breasts, his soft sprinkling of hair teasing and tempting my hard nipples. His fucking delectable mouth would suck in my earlobe before trailing open, wet kisses along my jawline. He'd kiss my chin, bringing it into his mouth briefly before making my lips swollen with his. All the while, his hips never stopped thrusting between my thighs and I would grip "O-o-okay?" I blinked and sucked in a ragged breath. "Hhhmm?" What the fuck? As I came out of the intense fantasy and found myself still sitting in my seat while other kids were leaving the room, I wondered about my day dream. The fucking I could understand but he would kiss my chin? Trail motherfucking kisses on my jawline? What. The. Fuck. What was my problem? Motherfucker. "I-I asked if you w-were o-okay." I looked up at Edward and he was breathing hard, as if we truly had been fucking in the middle of class. I wondered what sounds he would make and if he'd be able to say anything coherent for long minutes afterwards. "I'm good, Edward." My voice sounded tired and lazy even to my ears. He shook his head and I stood up, running both of my hands through my hair and pulling it back, tugging on it just a little, just until I could feel the slight sting of the pull. Moving as quickly as the morphine would let me, which wasn't quickly at all, I started gathering all of my things. I dropped my pencil, which Edward picked up and by the time it was securely in my bag, about ten pieces of paper floated to the floor. I watched lazily as Edward picked them up, stacking them straight in his hands before putting them in my bag for me. "Thanks. I'll see you later," I said, knowing that the Fuck Up Club was holding its weekly compulsory meeting. His hand curled around my wrist as I tried to go and I froze for a moment before I remembered that I didn't like that shit from anyone and pulled my arm away. "What?" He didn't disguise the hurt on his face very well, but I didn't fucking like that shit, so I wasn't going to feel bad. "W-w-wwwhat are you on?" I blinked at him, but he waited, his eyes fixed with mine. I played it as cool as I could while drowning in a sea of green. "Nothing." "B-B-Bella," was all he said, but it made me shiver. "I'm fine, and I'm noton anything." "M-maybe n-no one else p-pays attention, B-Bella, b-but I do." The crease on his brow deepened.

"W-what are you on?" I didn't want to tell him. Morphine was a derivative of opium, the same as heroin. He would know that shit and he would make a direct connection with his mother and I didn't want that, for him or for me. I smiled slowly. "Nothing, Edward, I'm just" I looked around. "I have to get to the gym, but I'll see you at your house in a few hours." "B-B-Bella, you are" I cut him off and began moving away. "I'm fine, Edward." ... The morphine numb carried me through to Edward's house and clung to me during my twenty-minute wait to see Dr. Hale, but after the first few minutes of talking to her about random things like school and photography, I recognized the signs of coming down. And I hated it. It was way too easy for that voice to ring out inside my head. Shhhh! I drew my legs up onto the chair and wrapped my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. Quiet, Bella. "Bella, I think it's time we talk about some actual issues, would that be okay?" Pulling myself out of my mental downslide, I shrugged. "It's your show. You can try." "It's been very interesting to see you interact with your father." My eyes narrowed, but that was my only reaction. "Why won't you let him get close to you? You seem to keep him at a distance and get annoyed when he tries to involve himself in your life." "No, I don't." "You should have seen the irritation and anger on your face last Friday when he asked Carlisle about your diabetes. Doesn't it make you feel the least bit happy that someone is concerned about you?" I shook my head. "He doesn't need to be close to me." "Is it all men you stay away from in general or just authoritarian men?" I stayed silent, suddenly entirely too sober for this shit. "Let's go back to a question I've asked you before." I rolled my eyes. I knew exactly what Hale wanted to discuss. "About sex, right?" Esme nodded and I sighed, ready to give her the juicy details she so obviously wanted. "What do you want to know? I prefer doggie style and I find it sexy when guys lick my neck." Her reaction was muted as her eyes continued to bear down on me. "Do you think you prefer that position so that you don't have to see the person you're having sex with?" "No." She might've had a point, but there was no way in hell that I was validating that shit for her. "Is that why you let Doctor Cullen fuck you from behind? So you don't have to be faced with the fact that you're boning your kids' future father-in-law?" Although she took in a sharp breath, Dr. Hale's face was impassive. "How many men have you slept with, Bella?" "Men or boys?" I asked, wondering if it made a difference to her how many people over the age of eighteen had fucked me and whether or not it mattered if they had known I was underage. Because most motherfuckers couldn't have cared less. "And do you actually mean 'sleep,' because we don't." "No," she said seriously. "No, sleeping next to someone without sexual contact would be a challenge for you. It would be a deeply intimate act."

My whole body bristled, but I said nothing. "When's the last time someone hugged you?" I shrugged. "When was the last time you let someone touch you in a manner that wasn't sexual and did not lead to or stem from sex?" I thought about Edward, but it had been uncomfortable and I didn't let it last long. Esme looked at me hard. "Just because people might not have shown you affection in the form of hugging or holding your hand in the past doesn't mean that you're not worthy of those small acts of love, Bella." I hated her words and I hated that she thought she fucking knew anything about me. Despite my internal vow to remain silent, my mouth pushed out the words, "They make me nervous." "Yet sleeping with men you barely know is something you do with ease." Fuck her. "You don't know what I do. How the fuck do you think you know how easy or hard something is for me or that I fuck anyone I don't know." She ignored my question. "Perhaps you should try to refrain from sexual activity in order to better understand intimacy. You might find that simple things like a touch or a smile are actually much more rewarding than random sex with people who most likely don't even care for you at all." "Perhaps you should mind your own fucking business," I spouted off immediately without really thinking about it. "Do you worry that your father will take advantage of you?" My breath caught. "What?" I stood up, my chest felt tight, as if I couldn't breathe. Dr. Bitch was suffocating me, drawing the fucking air out of my lungs to watch me flop around like a fish on the deck of a boat. "I'm fucking done with this shit. Fuck you. Don't fucking ask me shit about Charlie. Ask him." There were many ways people could take advantage of me, and most of them didn't involve Charlie. Despite that smack across the cheek when I first arrived, which I had deserved, I knew that Charlie wasn't a violent man by nature and posed little physical threat to me. The only thing Charlie could do was hurt me emotionally, and there was no fucking way I was letting that happen. Renee stopped letting me come to Forks on my summer breaks, even though I was sure she had desperately wanted the time away from me. She said it was punishment for me, and for him, or so she thought, but he never fought to get back his court-appointed right to have me for the summer. It seemed to me that he welcomed my absence from his life and felt he was only my father biologically. He took me back because he had no choice. "Bella, please sit down." I didn't want to sit. I wanted to leave the fucking room, but my body did as she asked. "Why do you call him Charlie?" "It's his name," I answered tensely. "Do you wish to distance yourself from him? Calling him by his first name is like not acknowledging the familial bond you share with him." "He distanced himself from me." Hale cocked her head to the side and jotted out a few words on her legal pad. "Perhaps one day the two of you can sit down and talk about that. Your feelings are valid, Bella, but you should also give him the opportunity to share his with you." Again, I said nothing. She could have her little moments of psychiatrist clarity, but I wasn't going to be

involved in them. "Are you upset that he didn't save you, Bella?" I bit my lip as my whole body tensed. "Shut up." I had meant it as a forceful command, but it came out a whispered plea. "You don't fucking know anything." "Do you think that he should have stopped your mother from hurting you?" My lip slipped from between my teeth and my jaw clenched. My teeth hurt from the pressure. Of course he could have and should have stopped my mother from hurting me, but he didn't quite care enough to figure the shit out. If he would have just asked me a fucking question about how I got a motherfucking scar or why it was that I was so bruised when I arrived every June, I would have told him the truth. But he never asked and by the time I came to Forks for the summer after sixth grade, I didn't want to be in the same room with him. Plus being alone in a house with a big man I barely knew, no matter if I called him Dad, Daddy, Father, or Charlie, would never be comfortable again. Then the fucking voice had to make an appearance, reminding me that no one ever did ask any questions and no one ever saved me. Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. Don't wake your mother. Dr. Hale didn't need to know all that shit. "I don't know what you're talking about." ... Group therapy was about as annoying as it could have been and as I reached Edward's bedroom, with him following closely behind, I felt wiped. I flopped down onto his couch, thanking the universe that such a wonderful place as Edward's room even existed. Dr. Hale had me thinking and I wished I was high because I hated thinking about all the things that people like Dr. Hale wanted me to think about. I had told Edward about the fork and the day Renee decided she'd had enough of taking care of me. Not to be confused with the day that Renee decided she didn't like me or whatever. I can't remember a time with Renee when she wasn't just outright mean. I'd seen those melodramas on TV about how the big bad mother/father/husband/whatever beats his or her loved one up and then the next day was all like, 'hey, I'm sorry, here's a fucking gold necklace to make up for it.' Renee wasn't like that. She never apologized. She never gave me a fucking thing. Except scars and bruises. I wished I was high. Why the fuck couldn't Edward be a burner? I could be fucking high right now. I wanted to be high. "B-B-Bella?" I blinked as he said my name and I felt myself come back to the here and now just long enough to remember that I was in Edward's room and that just last week, I'd fucking danced with him, and it was the best I'd ever felt for just a split second. His hands were perfect for that short time. The smell of him was just sofuck! I didn't know what it was but I fucking liked it! It was too much. He was way too much. And he didn't even know it. It was like he was burning me, but from within myself. That didn't even make sense. I had broken that contact as quickly as I could. But I ached for him when I was across the room and no longer in his arms.

How could he fucking want me? How could he do what he did to me? I wasn't capable of these feelings. How could he make me want him when I didn't want any fucking one? Why the fuck wasn't I high? I still had one pill left but I was going to save it for tomorrow morning. I wasn't sure about being on morphine with Charlie around. "B-Bella?" I took a deep breath and looked up at him. "What's up, Edward?" I whispered. I took in his furrowed brow and his nervous posture sitting on his bed and gave him a small smile. Although he didn't respond, his eyes told me that he was worried about me. I didn't think he should be worried about me. His eyes burned into me; they breathed into me. It made me hurt. "A-a-ar-are you o-okay?" I breathed out a near silent, "Yeah." Shhhh! I breathed in and forced myself to look away from him. "I'm fine, Edward." Quiet, Bella. Don't wake your mother. I let a long moment go by before saying, "You don't look like you own that bed, you know?" When I could finally allow myself to look over at him, I smiled as he scooted back, looking more comfortable. That was better. "What do you want to do tomorrow?" "If it sssssnows, w-w-w-we c-can" "We can play in it," I finished for him, not because I was impatient, but because the idea was sort of exciting. I suddenly wished it would snow. "And then I'll make you chili." ...

Chapter 32: You Who Are Cursed B POV Saturday morning came too soon. Charlie was already up when my tired eyes finally cracked open. I could hear the TV downstairs and smelled the coffee growing stale and burning to the bottom of the pot. Grumbling because yet again, I didn't get much sleep, I rolled out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cold wooded floorboards. I shivered and went to retrieve my socks. It was probably at least 80 degrees right now in Phoenix, but as I glanced out of my window, I found that the weatherman had been accurate. An early and unusual snow had settled upon Forks, making everything outside blindingly white and everything inside much colder than I'd experienced in a long time. I wasn't excited about the cold.

I stumbled out of my room and down the stairs, I had fully intended to go straight for the coffee pot, but was stopped short by the sight of Edward sitting across from Charlie at the kitchen table. We'd made plans but not until the afternoon. I looked at the clock. Oh. Oh shit. It was already twelve-thirty. Edward had probably been here for a half-hour at least. "Uh, hey." Both of them looked up at me. Edward smiled. I probably looked utterly horrible and yet he still smiled at me like I was fresh water to a parched throat. "Tried waking you up, Bells, but guess you didn't hear me knock." Well fuck. There I was in my sweat pants and t-shirt, both of which were clearly too big for me. I could either be incredibly embarrassed about the fact that I'd slept too late and looked so bad, or I could fucking own this shit. Fuck it. I moved to the coffee pot. "Sorry for making you wait, Edward." "I-i-it's o-o-o-o," he paused, took a deep breath and then continued, "o-okay." He must have been nervous because of Charlie. "I-I-I b-b-b-b-b," he tried, but finally gave up. When I moved to the table, he thrust a bottle towards me. "Hhhhere." I couldn't help but smile. He'd brought me pomegranate juice. I sat down and took it from him, my fingers brushing his just barely. I shivered, but not from the cold air in the house. "Thanks." He pointed at my chest and I looked down, wondering if my tit was hanging out or something. "What?" "Fffffavorite ssssssshirt?" I smiled again, but then remembered Charlie was in the room. My brow creased. "Yeah," I said as I turned to see Charlie's eyes narrow as he studied the shirt. I thought he was going to say something about it, but all Charlie did was stand up, grab his coffee and newspaper, and mumble something that sounded like 'have fun' as he left the kitchen. I felt bad that I had made him wait with Charlie. I turned to him. "I'm really sorry, Edward." He shook his head. "N-no, it's o-okay, B-Bella."

He sounded pained and slightly out of breath. The crease reappeared between my brows as I really looked at him. My scrutiny must have been too much because he turned his eyes away. "What's wrong, Edward?" He shook his head again, his eyes fixed on the table. "I-it ssssssnowed." I smiled, even though I knew some shit was wrong with him. "It did. October seems early, but whatever." Edward's body tensed up as he tried to speak, but all the came out were a few stuttered syllables. I didn't know what I was supposed to do when he got like that. It always seemed to help when I touched him, especially when I ran my hands through his hair, but before I could do so, he was moving. He sat back in the chair, his hands disappearing into his pockets. In a flash, he was shoving something towards me. Brown fabric was gripped between his hands and I really looked at the musician's hands that had Jessica Stanley all riled up. They were nice hands with long fingers, but as I had before, I noticed the small white raised skin and the curved indentations next to them that marred his otherwise perfect skin. I wondered what happened to create those scars. "Hhhhere," he said once more, his hands moving away from the fabric once it was close to me. A matching hat and gloves sat on the table before me and I looked back at him, quirking my eyebrow up. In answer to my silent question, he said, "I-i-it's c-c-cold outssssside and I d-d-didn't know if you hhhad a hhhat. I d-don't w-w-want you to get sssssick." I didn't know how to feel about Edward buying me winter outer wear. On the one hand, it was considerate as fuck and on the other, he was getting way too vested in me. I would probably end up ruining him, despite his words that he was already ruined, and then after he was gone from my life, I'd still have these fucking gloves and hat to remind me that he knew what my favorite fucking color was. But none of that was his fault. "Thanks, Edward." He finally looked up at me and smiled. ... Motherfuck it was fucking cold, but we were in the little meadow he'd taken me to before. There were even a few of those little flowers sticking up out of the snow. The feel of the place had changed somewhat with the change in weather, but it was still the peaceful and calm spot Edward had shown me. "Now what?" I looked over to find Edward, but I was greeted by something cold and wet hitting my shoulder. "What the fuck was that?" My eyes finally found him and he had that sexy motherfucking lopsided smile on his face. "Did you just throw snow at me?" He shrugged and nibbled his lip a bit nervously. I wondered if he thought I was going to get mad at him or something. It was actually kind of cute the way he looked, I just wish his eyes weren't trained

on my boots. I didn't want to drag out my reaction to him throwing a snowball at me. He was obviously a little worried that I wouldn't be happy with him. I'd never had a snowball fight in my entire life, but I wanted to try it out. I reached down quickly and scooped up some of the fluffy white snow and packed it together with my hands. I wasn't a good aim and I ended up hitting him in the side of his face. "Sorry, Edward, I" My words were cut off by another snowball grazing my left ear. So that was the beginning of my first snowball fight. After I grew tired of getting hit by snowballs and having snow fall down into my coat and shirt, I made a snowman with Edward. He was kind of lopsided, had no face, and was crazily proportioned, but I guessed he fit in Forks. It was after that when I lay back in the snow and looked up at the gray sky. The woods were quiet and the snow that continued to fall down on me tickled my face. I was aware that Edward had lain down next to me. "D-d-do you liiiike the ssssnow now?" I smiled. "It's alright." It was simply fucking awesome, but I couldn't bring myself to show that much excitement in front of him. My teeth started chattering involuntarily and I felt him take my gloved hand. He stood up, pulling me up with him and even though our hands were covered, the pure prickly electrical current still surged between us. It was a scary connection and instinctively, I pulled my hand away from his. I wiped at my face with my fuzzy gloves. "Y-you're c-c-cold." I nodded. Without saying anything further, Edward grabbed my hand again and started walking back out of the clearing. I let him keep a hold of my hand until I nearly tripped over a fallen tree limb. Then I just shoved my hands into my pockets as we finished our hike back to his silver car. He revved the engine and turned the heat up high and we sat there silently until I pulled the hat off my head. "That was fun." He smiled at me, his eyes brighter than I'd seen them before. "I-i-it'll p-p-p-probably mmmelt tomorrow, b-but" "It was fun for today." ... I stirred the big silver pot on the stove, making Edward chili as I had promised to do, while he sat at the table, his hand wrapped around a coffee mug as he looked at the peanut butter and apple slices I had set down before him. "You're not allergic, are you?" I asked. His brow furrowed and I nodded to the plate. "To nuts or whatever."

He shook his head. "N-no," then nodded toward the green, leafy balls on the counter that didn't go with chili, but I was making them anyway. "W-why do you liiiike b-brussel sprouts?" Why did he need to know that? I mean, who asked why someone liked a certain vegetable? "Because they're good for you," but that was a cop-out answer and I knew it. It felt cheap and hollow and not at all the answer that he deserved. I sighed, knowing this shit with Edward was entirely too deep for my own good. "Because at first they're green and chewy and slightly bitter, but when you get down to the center of it, they're actually kind of sweet." I was completely high. I'd dropped a pill when we got home just to take the edge off. My lips were just slightly open and my eyes were probably a bit glassy. Every once and a while, one of my knees would buckle under me, making my body sway as I locked them tight again. "W-w-why do you g-get high all the time, B-B-Bella?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "Damn!" I cast my eyes towards the living room where Charlie sat in his recliner watching some kind of sporting event. "Tell the whole world, why don't you?" "Why do you get so fucking anxious around people, Edward?" I wasn't pissed or defensive. It was my way of letting him know that for every thing about me that was rough and raw, he had an unpolished area of his own. "W-why don't you like sssspicy f-food?" I could have taken that question one of two ways. It could have been an innocent question. Just Edward wondering about my likes and dislikes, but I knew his underlying motive for asking. He wanted to know because to him everything had meaning. So I called him on his questions, not directly but by asking him a blatantly burning question in return. I could see through all of his disguises. "How can you not hate your mother after what she did?" This was a game of who would crack first. Somehow we had silently agreed that he would push me and I'd push him right back. And like the night I danced with him, one of us was going to get tired of the shields we'd built around ourselves and one of us was going to let the our guard down just long enough to let the other one in. The night we danced, it had been me. I had a feeling that tonight it would be too. Despite my unfortunately very obvious coping mechanisms of drugs and brashness, I knew that somewhere inside of me, I wanted a friend. Otherwise, why would I be here with him now? "W-why do you l-like the color b-brown?" I shook my head. "Why do you have to be so difficult, Edward?"

"I'm n-not being difficult, B-Bella. I j-just w-want to get to know you." I knew he would just keep asking until I told him all of the things he wanted to know. I glanced out to the living room and then walked over to the table, sitting down across from him. Working really hard to regulate my breathing and wishing that I was higher than I was, I stuck out my tongue flat, showing him the deep red circles that were seared into the soft flesh. "Doctors call it a geographic tongue." I sighed, my eyes fixed on his hand as it tightened around his coffee mug. "But I wasn't born with it looking this way." "W-w-w-what d-did she do?" I sighed again, hating that he wanted to know about all this shit and hating that in order to know, I would have to fucking tell him and think about it. "Pepper can burn just like fire. Chili sauce left on the skin for a long period of time can burn a hole right through it. Hot sauce on cuts stings like a bitch, and smoked Thai dried peppers stuck under or on your tongue can hurt more than a broken bone or being stabbed with a fork." I risked a glance up at him and found him staring back at me, his eyes incredibly intense. Too intense. I pulled my tongue over my top teeth, feeling the unnatural texture that way. "Those were made with habaneros," I whispered. I hadn't been able to eat for a week and when I finally could, even applesauce tasted like shit and still hurt like a mother fuck. I stood back up, and moved over to the stove to stir the chili again. My back to him, using as forceful a voice as I could, I said, "Now answer one of mine." I was growing weary of answering his questions about my mother and if I was going to reveal something to him, he was going to do the same. "I-I d-don't know w-why I g-get" He was going to answer the question about being anxious around people, but that wasn't the one I wanted to know at the moment. I could figure that shit out on my own. "Not that one, Edward." I heard the rush of air release from him and I glanced around. His hands were pressed into tight fists on the top of the table and his jaw was tight as his teeth clenched. I immediately felt bad for challenging him like that. "I-i-it w-w-was her only w-w-way out, B-Bella." I could understand that. Most people didn't blow their fucking brains out for shits and giggles, it was to leave something behind, but most people didn't do it in front of their young child. "But she did it in front of you, Edward." He swallowed hard, so hard I heard it from across the kitchen. "M-my d-d-d-d, fffather said that the d-demons h-hhhad t-taken hhhher." I turned to look at him, wondering if he knew and understood just how fucked up that shit sounded. "And that sssssshe w-w-w-was too w-w-weak to" His words stopped, but he was still trying to speak. Maybe this shit should've been covered in an e-mail instead. His cheeks were ballooned out as he tried to push whatever word was in his mind from between his lips. His face was growing red, and Edward's hands gripped the coffee mug so tightly that

I was afraid it might shatter in his hands. Finally, he took a deep breath. "Hhhe said that they w-w-won." His dad was a fucked up freak. But I couldn't very well say that shit to Edward. Maybe he loved his dad or believed the shit the man spewed. Edward mumbled something and I had to look hard at his lips to make out the rest. "Then He will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devils and his angels.'" What. The fuck? Was that shit from the Bible? And more importantly, how the fuck had he said all that shit without stuttering once? He looked fucking lost and in pain and I seriously thought he was going to break that fucking cup. "Edward?" He took a deep breath, as if he'd been holding it for hours. His eyes moved up, looking at me briefly before shifting to look out of the window. "D-d-dssssssssorry." I couldn't help but eye him carefully. The entire air around him had changed so completely. "What are you sorry for?" He didn't answer. In fact, all he did was release his hold on the mug, so I spooned out some chili for us and told Charlie that dinner was ready. I watched Edward closely until he left. His face was stoic and unchanging, his eyes dark and cloudy. I was sorry to be the reason the light had left him. ... Sunday brought with it an interview at the Thriftway. The manager had called at nine in the morning and so at a little after one in the afternoon I was sitting in his cluttered office, answering questions about why I wanted to work there. I was high, like totally blown. My logic had been that if I went the first time higher than fuck, that they'd never know I wasn't sober. Their baseline data would be that I was fucking buzzed out of my head. Obviously, the interview was probably more subdued than the manager was used to because this new weed of Jacob's was smooth as fuck, and every time the guy would ask me something, I took a really long time trying to formulate the answer. "Tell me about a time when you saw something that needed to be done and just jumped in and did it." Was the guy fucking serious? His questions were worse than therapy. My mind supplied all sorts of sexual answers to that.

Sex was absolutely on my brain. I hadn't gotten laid since that thing with the kiss happened with Edward last Wednesday. I'd fucked Jacob in his Rabbit before school that day, but I couldn't really get the details right in my head. I'd been pretty fucking out of it, fairly toasted and sleep deprived. I felt like I was going crazy because I wanted to get laid, and Jacob wanted to get laid but I hadn't fucking fucked him for whatever fucking reason. So I was wound fairly fucking tight. And while the short little man who seemed to want to conduct the interview with my boobs kept asking questions, I kept supplying stock answers that people like him wanted to hear. I barely paid attention to the whole process. I didn't focus until I heard him say, "Since you're underage, the record was closed and without knowing what the crime was, I can't give you a money-handling job." I creased my brow. He was talking about my background check. "That's okay. Stocking's cool too. I don't want to handle money." He took a deep breath and another long look at my boobs for good measure before saying, "Since you're Charlie's kid, we'll give you a shot." He paused, his eyes dipping lower for just a moment before he reddened a bit. "Your father's a good man. He's done quite a lot for" I tuned him out again. I'd pay attention when he stopped thinking about fucking me and covering it up by going on about how fucking awesome Charlie was. I was going to start on Thursday after school, provided I got all of the work permit bullshit in line first. I took the bus to Jake's. I needed to get more pot and I wanted to get high again before heading back to Charlie's. "I'm out." "You're out?" I stared at him. "But I've got money." "Well, you'll have to save it until my shit gets here." "When's that supposed to be?" I felt a little panicked. Tyler didn't sell weed. "Probably tomorrow or the next day." Jacob tossed the piece of wood he'd been carving down on his dresser and stood up, towering over me. "I've got some ReddiWhip if you want to do some whippits. "What are we, twelve again or what?" He smiled at me. "It'll be fun. Like the first time we did it." I smiled, remembering how spaced I'd been after we'd done it. There was nothing like killing brain cells by huffing the gas out of a can of spray whipped cream. "Fine, whippits it is then." It was only after nearly asphyxiating my brain that I realized I'd stayed at Jacob's house too long. As I exited the bathroom, trying to keep my overly sex-deprived brain from thinking about being fucked on that bathroom vanity, I heard Jacob's dad yelling at him.

Then I heard Jake yell back. "It's not my fucking fault your wheelchair broke again, Dad." "Don't fucking yell at me, Jacob." "Don't fucking yell at me." "Just help me to the couch." I snuck a peek around the corner and watched as Jacob hauled his father out of the wheelchair and set him down on the tattered couch. He ran his hands through his hair and then stood up straight. "Do you need anything else, Bella's" "Sorry I yelled." Jacob shrugged with a sigh. "What do you want for dinner?" Jacob was like his father's fucking parent or something. I'd known that Jacob's dad was disabled, but it never occurred to me that Jacob would have to take care of him so much. I went back to Jacob's room and grabbed my coat, wanting to leave. When I turned back around, he was leaning in the doorway. "You taking off?" I nodded. "I have to get dinner and all that." "Me too." I started to shrug on my coat, but before I could, Jacob took it away and lifted me, pressing me into the wall. His mouth on my neck was heavy and wet and it felt so fucking good. The way his arms were behind me, his hands in my hair, set me alight with heat. My legs automatically wrapped around his waist and his hips thrust upward, driving his very obviously hard cock against me. I thought about Edward and I felt fucking awful because I'd kissed him on Wednesday and now I had Jacob's raging hard-on pressing into me. I'd been trying not to do this shit. Jake breathed out against my ear and I instantly froze. The rush of air brought memories of being quieted. Shhhh! I pushed against him, then opened my eyes and straightened my legs. He let me down, but only after trying to hold me closer to him for a split second. "What the fuck?" he asked, his breath coming out in spurts. "I have to go, Jake." He said something, but I didn't listen. My mind was racing with thoughts of things I didn't want to think about. "But, Bella" "No, I have to go. The bus will be by any minute." "I can take you home." I shook my head and licked my lips. "You have to make Billy dinner." Sighing, Jacob gave me a half nod. "Fine, but I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Actually, I'm getting another ride tomorrow morning." "Who the fuck from?" It wasn't hard to hear the jealousy in his voice. I worked really hard not to get pissed at him. "Edward." "Why?" There was no reason why Edward was going to pick me up for school. He just was, so I shrugged. "So no wake and bake then?" I shook my head and he followed suit. "That's fucked, Bella." "We can burn before class." He eyed me carefully. "Why don't you just ride with me and we'll clam bake like usual?" As appealing as I always found getting fried first thing in the morning inside of an enclosed vehicle, I'd already told Edward he could pick me up. "Not tomorrow, Jake." "Whatever." He moved to sit down on his bed and then nodded towards the door. "You're going to miss your fucking bus." ...

Chapter 33: Riverbed E POV One might think Mike would take a weekend off from being a dick, but as he followed me through his father's store, letting loose with a steady stream of taunts, I realized that he was a full-time prick. I had to keep reminding myself that I was only there to pick up a few things for Bella. I'd noticed that she didn't have a hat or gloves and if we were going to go out in the newly-fallen snow, she would need them. "Tyler didn't say, of course, but I bet she's a screamer. Or at least, she will be with me." I grit my teeth and wondered if he really thought that anyone believed his boasts of prowess. "Are those for Isabella or your brain-dead, space cadet sister, C-C-Cullen?" It bugged me that he called her Isabella when she so clearly wanted to be called Bella. I had to work really hard to have compassion for Newton. I wondered what had happened to him that was so bad he had to be such a dick to people. He needed therapy more than most of the kids who saw Esme. "Now there's a fucking thought, C-C-Cullen." He drew in a deep breath and smiled. "Your mental sister has a tight fucking body. I think Bella'd look so fucking hot with her face between your sister's thighs while I fuck her from behind." My eyes closed for just a moment while I fought against the urge to defend them. I really wanted to, but I knew anything I said would only make him laugh. If only Jasper was here.

Then, as if Mike could read my mind, he said, "Run and tell her idiot boyfriend. We all know that the next time Chief Swan gets a call about his uncontrolled anger, he'll be locked away." He sighed exaggeratedly. "I wonder if he'd mind me fucking your sister while he's taking it in the ass in prison." My breath caught and I felt sick. I heard him laugh again. My eyes only focused again when his mother came into sight. "Good morning, Edward. Ready to ring those up?" I swallowed hard and looked at Mike, watching as his posture changed now that his mother was around. "Y-yes, MMMM-MMrs. N-Newton." I handed over my money and took the hat and gloves in exchange. "Tell your father hello for me, will you?" I nodded my answer and left as quickly as I could. I stopped at the store to pick up Bella's favorite juice. I knew that she didn't want me to be her boyfriend or anything, but there was nothing to stop me from taking care of her a little here and there. She was still sleeping when I got to her house and as Chief Swan tried to wake her up, I hoped that I hadn't gotten the time wrong. However when she came downstairs, saving me from being alone with her father, I couldn't help but be relieved. She was completely beautiful in well-worn clothes that were too big for her and hair that looked more like mine: all over the place. I was rewarded with a smile at the Pom juice but thought for a moment that she hated the gloves and hat. Then she seemed to compose herself and thanked me. I wasn't trying to overstep any boundaries or anything. I just wanted to make sure she didn't get sick on her first outing in the Pacific Northwest winter. Then we played in the snow. I could count the number of times I had 'just played' in my entire life on one hand. When I threw that first snowball at her, I knew that I was taking a risk and just for a moment, she looked like she might've been upset. Then she lodged a poorly-made snowball back at me and all my fears melted away. She would have to work on that aim, though, before getting into a battle with Emmett. As she cooked chili, I'd asked her a question and true to form, she'd ask me one right back. I'd been so happy at the thought of her cooking chili. How ironic that she was making that particular dish when she told me about her mother using peppers to burn her. I hadn't known that the tongue could scar and I wondered if it still hurt her. It was during the discussion of my mother that the unparalleled sadness settled down upon me. I was happy that I wasn't panicking in front of her, but I couldn't help the quick-sand of despair as it swallowed me whole. So much that I hardly even tasted Bella's food when it was time to eat. I was barely able to say a proper goodbye to Bella and her father before driving home in what could only be described as a daze. Emmett, Alice, and Carlisle were all eating dinner when I returned. I avoided speaking by answering all their questions with a shrug, a nod, or a shake of my head. Instead of just having sad thoughts running through my mind, I kept reciting various Bible passages. All it did was manage to keep me on that amazingly thin edge of being normal, or what normal was for me, and a complete freak-out. Sleep was difficult and I found myself unable to work on my speech or pick up an instrument. My body was as heavy as my mind and I found myself bound to the bed, my arms wrapped around my legs. ...

I didn't speak at all on Sunday. I wouldn't have come out of my room either if I hadn't wanted coffee so badly. Carlisle had been at the hospital overnight and slept until four in the afternoon, only to be called in at five on what was supposed to be his twenty-four hour rest period. However, Emmett filled him in Monday morning on my not having said a word since before I left for Bella's on Saturday morning. "Edward, please," he said as he looked deeply into my eyes. I looked away, the intensity of his gaze too much for me to handle. "You can't keep shutting down like this, you know." I could and I would. I didn't have to talk. There was no stipulation in the adoption papers stating that I had to talk I had nothing to say and it made me angry that everyone wanted to turn it into something major. It wasn't like I was silent because they did something wrong. I wasn't punishing them. I just didn't want to talk. Not only did I not get much sleep, but my brain was still a little warped from last night's random thoughts. It wasn't so much that I was thinking about my mother, because I did that a lot. It was more that I was thinking about why she did what she did. I knew Bella didn't understand. I knew that she thought I should've been angry at my mother, but I didn't blame her. Not for her addictions and not for how she chose to escape. I would have thought Bella would understand that. She got high everyday as her means of escaping the pain she didn't want to feel. My mother just took it a step further when the addiction became a source of pain as well. And she would've taken me with her. There are many days that I wished she had. Being so young, it would've been difficult to truly understand what that gun pointed at me really meant. But I knew now. She was going to save me. And then she didn't. Instead, she turned the gun around. I remembered how her hand shook. Her face was pale and she had tiny beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Addiction had clouded her eyes for so many years. So many, in fact, that I wasn't sure I had ever seen her eyes clear until that day. She had taken a deep breath and I had risen up onto my knees, my lips pressed together. I remembered wanting to ask her if she would just stay with me for a little while longer after she had said she had to go. I hadn't realized then what she meant. Then there was blood and brains on my door, on my walls, on my carpet, on my things, and it clued me into the fact that she wasn't going out to the store or to her dealer. The last thing she said, right before, "I love you, Eddie-bear," was that there was a half of her tuna salad sandwich left in the refrigerator for me. But I couldn't understand it. And I couldn't get out of my room. She was lying in front of my door and I couldn't bring myself to step over her. The door-knob was dripping. "Edward?" I brought my eyes back to Carlisle. "You don't have to talk, Edward," he said as he pushed a pad of paper and a pen towards me, "but please let me know what's going on."

I looked at the paper and scowled. I wasn't deaf and I wasn't mute. I just did not want to talk. Carlisle's hands moved towards my face and I leaned back, hoping to get away. I flinched when his fingers touched the hollows under my eyes. I knew there were dark bruise-like circles there. My hands came up to his forearms and I pushed him away, forcing him to stop touching me. "I-I-I-I-I'm gg-g-g-ggg-gg-ggoing t-t-to sc-school n-now." "Edward," Carlisle said again, his tone making me feel guilty about the fact that I didn't want to talk and didn't want him to touch me. I felt bad that he always seemed like he thought he was a failure because of it. "W-w-w-what?" I tried my hardest to convey through my eyes that I wanted him to back off and leave me alone. I didn't understand why he thought after five years of near-silence that this would be the morning I would come clean, giving up every hidden secret to him simply because he 'wanted to help.' When he didn't speak, I stood up and grabbed my bag. "I-I-I'm p-p-p-picking up B-B-Bella." I let out a heavy breath, upset with myself for butchering a simple four-word sentence. It was no wonder Bella kept me at a distance. I couldn't even say her beautiful name without turning it into an ugly, stunted sound. ... I pulled up at her house and fought back my body's response to hyperventilate. She was waiting for me out on her porch. The snow from the weekend was nearly melted, but it was still too cold for her to be waiting outside. I checked the clock. Carlisle had made me ten minutes late. The panic wore off when she smiled at me. She was wearing the gloves and hat I'd gotten her. A part of me wanted Mike Newton to see them on her and know that I had, indeed, gotten them for Bella. The other part of me didn't want him to see them at all. My torso was still sore and bruised from last week. Despite my poor overall mood, I smiled back at her. She slipped something into her coat pocket before picking up her bag and making her way to the car. I probably should have gotten out and opened the door for her. That would have been the nice thing to do. Once she was inside, I realized quickly that she was high again. I didn't care right now because she was inside the car with me and that simple fact made me feel better. The lingering sadness from the weekend faded until it was almost gone. Almost. "Hey, Edward." But just because I felt better in her presence, didn't mean that I wanted to hear myself butcher her name again. So instead of giving her an actual greeting like she deserved, I smiled at her and pointed to the travel mug filled with coffee. "Thanks," she said as she wrapped her hand around the mug. I nodded back at her. Her mug paused mid-air as she looked at me, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny, "What's wrong?" I shook my head, my eyes slipping closed for just the briefest of moments. "Why aren't you talking, Edward?"

I sighed. Although it warmed me that she knew within the first minute that there was something wrong, I couldn't force myself to speak. My teeth clenched together as I wished I could just talk. There were so many thoughts that I wanted to share with her. Her hand moved to my hair and I closed my eyes again. "You don't have to talk," she whispered so low that I wasn't sure if she'd really said it. When my eyes opened, I made the mistake of trying to touch her. Just my fingertips brushed her cheekbone before she turned away. Her hands gripped her coffee mug tightly and the only sound beyond the squeak of the leather seats was my sigh. I swallowed back my disappointment and waited until she'd fastened her seatbelt before shifting into first gear. When we parked at school, she turned back to me, her eyes narrowed, studying me like Carlisle or Esme did. "S-ssssstop." Bella turned back around, grabbing the strap of her bag and the mug of coffee with one hand. "You going to be okay?" I nodded. Her free hand moved to cover my right hand, still resting on the gear shift. "I'm sorry forwhatever's wrong." She didn't need to apologize for anything. It wasn't her fault I was the way I was. Her hand was still on mine so I figured I'd risk touching her again, just in case this was the time she'd actually let me touch her the way she touched me. She moved away again, her hand no longer covering mine. "W-w-w-why c-can you t-touch m-mm-mme but I c-can't t-touch you?" Bella's eyes widened for a moment before she turned them away. She ran her hands through her hair, and bit her lower lip. "I want you to touch me," she said quietly. If her words were true, then it was no longer a risk, so I tried to touch her cheek again. She sucked in a deep, shuddering breath and moved away, practically pressed against the door. "Not like that," she said. "You shouldn't want that." She was so confusing. "I shouldn't want that?" Her eyes grew dark before she closed them. "You shouldn't what that from me." "B-B-B-B-" Her eyes flew open and she reached for the door handle. "I have to go, Edward." I shouldn't have done it, but I did. I reached out and grabbed her wrist. For just a moment, she froze. She didn't blink. She didn't breathe. Then she pulled her arm free. "Don't want what you can't have, Edward. I'm not capable of giving you what you need." "W-w-what do I n-need?" It was a serious question because I honestly had no idea at this point, and if she did, I wanted to know. "Someone who is good for you. I'll fucking ruin you. I won't even mean to do it, but I will." Were we back to that again? "B-B-Bella, I think" She scrubbed her face with the palm of her hand. "I got a job," she said, her voice much lighter. I wanted to congratulate her, but before I could even think of something to say, she was nodding towards the school, her bottom lip between her teeth. "I'll see you in Bio." Again, I wanted to say something to stop her from leaving, but my mouth wouldn't cooperate and she was already out of the car. This was not how I had wanted this morning to go.

After a few more minutes, I got out of the car. Glancing over, I saw that Emmett's Jeep was already parked in its usual spot, but no one was around it. I would have liked to have walked in with them like usual. It would have taken away the slight terror that hummed in my head, causing my heart to race just a little faster than normal. It was completely illogical to be frightened of walking into a building that I'd walked into hundreds of times before. I felt stupid. "C-C-Cullen!" My stomach knotted as I saw Mike run up to me, a smile on his face. If I hadn't known better, he would have looked like a friend coming to greet me. "She looks fantastic today. Her ass makes my dick ache." I hoisted my bag up higher on my shoulder. "Did you at least feel her up on the way to school? Maybe a finger or two in her tight pussy?" If I hadn't stuttered so badly, I would have told him to shut up, but the only recognizable sound to pass my lips were 'sh' sounds and ta, ta, ta sounds I winced as his fist connected with my already bruised side again. "You're a fucking retard, C-C-Cullen. Even if you did manage to get her to spread her legs, she couldn't have been that satisfied," he chucked his thumb behind him. "She's already in the woods with Black. I guarantee you that they're not just getting high." I was already doubled over, so the elbow he shot into my side did nothing to help me breathe. "What do you think he's doing to her right now? I bet he's fucking her mouth, coming on her face. I bet she fucking likes that shit." I tried not to listen and when I failed, I tried to remind myself that he was a moron who was only saying this stuff because he wanted to try to hurt me for some reason, but I really wished that he would just stop talking and hit me again. That would have been easier to take. I stood up just waited on Mike. "Come on, C-C-Cullen. I know you've thought about it. She's so fucking small, right? I'm going to pick her right up and fuck her against a wall and when I'm ready to shoot my load, I'm going to drop her and come all over her face, just like Jacob's doing right now." Mike put the palm of his hand against my face and pushed. "Aw, don't fucking cry, C-C-Cullen. You don't honestly believe that you have a shot at her, do you?" He laughed his wicked laugh and again I wondered what was so deficient in his life that he had to be so cruel. I just looked away, trying not to let his words take purchase in my head. When Mike started to walk away, I felt my body relax just a little. I swallowed hard, wondering if the whole week was going to go like this. I passed Bella in the hall just before the first period bell rang. Although she smiled at me, I wondered if she actually saw me at all. I wondered why no one else could see how high she was. Didn't the teachers care? My feet automatically carried me through the day as I felt like my mind had taken a vacation. At lunch, I watched at as Bella talked to Tyler, the look in her eyes resembling something I'd seen before. I watched as she left the cafeteria early, following Jacob Black. Mike's words echoed in my mind and I wondered if they were just getting high. No matter how much I tried to remind myself that she wasn't mine, it still hurt to think about her like everyone else did. I didn't want to picture that in my head. I didn't want her do those things. But she wasn't mine, and according to her, I shouldn't want what I couldn't have.

Still, I knew that even though she thought she wasn't emotionally available to me, somewhere deep within her, she wanted to be. Otherwise the back and forth nature of our relationship wouldn't be there. She wouldn't run away from me only to come back, ready to expose herself and the deep riverbed of secrets within her just a little bit more. She was so high in Biology. She teetered on the edge of moving too much and not moving enough. I didn't know what she was on, but it wasn't just pot. She reminded me of my mother. I'd known early, very, very early, that my mother never really 'lived.' Her life was nothing more than one high after another, her addiction driving her every move. Her eyes were never right. All they did was change from one cloud to another. When she was really high, they were frantic, and when she was coming down, they were heavy, like sludge. When she really needed a fix, they were panicked and frightened and more than just a little crazy. Bella's eyes shifted back and forth dangerously between a quiet calm and raging panic. Her hands kept moving, and at one point she was drumming her fingers so hard against the edge of the table that Mr. Banner kept glaring at our desk and the other students looked like they were about to shoot daggers at the annoying rhythm she was tapping out. Even though I knew she didn't like me touching her, I reached out and stilled the fingers of one hand, bringing our joined hands down from the table. I expected her to withdraw again, to pull away like always, but she sighed deeply as her fingers curled around mine and gripped them tightly. Her breathing slowed until it was almost what other people would call 'normal'. The bell rang, ending Mr. Banner's lecture, but Bella didn't get out of her seat and she didn't let go of my hand. We sat there until everyone in our class was gone and the new students filed in. I stood up and grabbed my bag with my free hand and nudged her to get up. When she finally moved, she dropped my hand. Out in the hallway, she turned towards the gym and mumbled a goodbye, but I couldn't just let her leave. Even though she'd shown me time and time again that she didn't want to be touched, I reached out and curled my hand around hers, only letting it stay for a moment before dropping it a little and keeping a hold of just her pinkie finger. If she was scared or worried, she would be able to pull away and break the connection easily. I wanted it to be comforting to her. I didn't want to take the choice away or make her think that I was forcing her to be touched by me. "Have to go," she said while never trying to remove her finger from my hand. If she wound up going to P.E., she probably wouldn't do much more than stand there. She was pretty out of it. "D-do you w-want to go?" It was a loaded question. She shook her head in response. I should have been more clear, for her, but also for myself, because I didn't know if she was saying that she didn't want to go to P.E. or that she didn't want to go some place with me. "Can we go to your house?" Relief washed through me and I nodded. It took less than ten minutes to tell Mrs. Peters that I wasn't going to re-stock the books for her today and get Bella into the car. After she buckled herself in, she drew her feet up and wrapped a protective arm around her bent legs. "Are you o-okay?" She shook her head, but I couldn't see her face. "I feel sick."

As I drove, I thought. Was she sick like my mom was when she was coming down? Was she sick because everyone else in school seemed to have the stomach flu? Or was she sick because she hadn't eaten much? Bella was thin. A little too thin. When I thought about her during lunch today, I realized that she hadn't even nibbled on a PopTart or eaten an apple like she usually did. "You d-d-didn't eat." Bella's head snapped up. "Yes, I did." I shook my head, forgetting that I hadn't wanted to talk today. "N-n-not at lllllunch you d-didn't." "Fuck," she exhaled as her whole body launched itself into motion. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she grabbed the blood sugar monitor out of her bag and tested her glucose level. It was only moments after her machine beeped that she asked, "Is it okay if I eat something at your house?" I didn't even try to respond verbally, instead, I focused on driving and nodded. Bella wasn't taking very good care of herself. The instability of her blood sugar seemed to pop up more and more often. I was sure it was the drugs that made her forget to eat. I couldn't exactly bring it up to her now, though. When we got to my house, I led her straight away to the kitchen where she flung open the refrigerator door and grabbed the orange juice. I got her a glass and set it down on the island. She filled it up, gulped it down and filled it up again. After a few minutes, she looked better. The color came back to her face and she wasn't visibly shaking anymore. "I th-thought d-diabetes w-was high blood sugar, b-but you k-keep eating th-things w-with a lot of c-carbohydrates." She finished off the second glass of orange juice and moved to rinse out the glass. "Diabetes is about high blood sugar, but I'm on insulin, so it's also about low blood sugar. If I take the same amount of insulin and don't eat, or if I eat the wrong foods, my blood sugar drops." "W-w-why d-didn't you eat?" Just like I thought she would, she said, "I guess I forgot." "You sssssshould sssstop." Bella looked up at me. "F-f-ffforgetting." She sighed, running her hands through her hair. "Yeah," then closed the dishwasher as she stood up and chewed on her lower lip. "Can we go to your room?" "You hhhhaven't eaten yet." "I'm okay, Edward." "You ssshould eat." She sighed again, and began rummaging through our cupboards until she held out a granola bar. "Can I have this?" I nodded. When she was finished, I was going to take her up to my bedroom like she has asked, but when I passed the grand piano, the pull proved to be too much. "D-d-do you w-w-want to hear the Chopin p-piece now?" "Sure," she said, moving to sit down on the chaise lounge that Kate used to like. I sat down at the piano and played, hoping that she would like it and wishing that I had enough courage to play her the song that played in my head every time I thought of her. ...

Chapter 34: Hypothetical Girl E POV "Is everyone going to come here?" I knew exactly what she was talking about. "Yes," I answered, knowing that Emmett, Alice and the Hales would be here shortly now that school was out. "Can we go to your room then? I don't reallyyou know, want to hang out with anyone else." When she was sitting on my couch I asked her, "Ar-are you feeling b-better?" "Yes." At first the silence was awkward and my mind raced to try and fill it, but I could think of nothing but deep questions that would put her on edge. I wanted to see her smile like she had in the meadow and in the bookstore. I wanted to kiss her again, but I had no clue how to make that happen. The thought of just going for it made me feel slightly dizzy. Her eyes were closed and her body was sort of swaying and before I could really do anything about it, I asked the question that I had asked before, even though I already knew the answer. "W-w-why d-do you get hhhigh w-when you know it's n-not good fffffor you, B-Bella?" Bella's eyes drifted open and she let out a breath before giving me a slow smile. "Let's talk about something else." "Liiiiike w-what?" I was so tired of being confused. I wanted whatever was going on between us to be out in the open. That way if she was going to reject me, she could just do it and get it over with. But I didn't think she was going to reject me, which was almost just as bad since I figured she would cover everything up like she always did: She would run. "W-why can't I t-touch you?" It boiled over because I felt like I needed to know. I needed to know if she felt anything at all for me or if it was just sympathy. I needed to know why she kept running from me. "I told you." I shook my head, indicating that she hadn't really told me anything other than that I shouldn't want to touch her. Sighing heavily, she ran her hands through her hair wildly. "Being touched is kind ofI mean, it's notTouching is fine, but the way you do it is" Bella closed her eyes again and the pain etched across her face reached out and burned me like the lash of a leather belt across my skin, "uncomfortable," she finished in a breath. "I-I-I d-d-do it w-wrong?" She shook her head and her body seemed to fold into herself even more. "No, it's justwhy do you do this shit, Edward?" "W-w-what do I do?" I asked, wondering why she sounded so breathy. She didn't answer me. I really wanted her to. I deserved to know if I was imagining things or if Mike Newton was right. "B-B-Bella, w-why" "Why, why, why, fucking why? Why do you ask all of the questions that no one else has ever fucking asked?" Here was the moment that I had to say it. I had to be deadly honest or everything would continue on in the same fashion, leaving me somewhere in between.

"B-b-because I liiiiiike you," I whispered. She exhaled sharply but I forged on. "I w-w-want to kn-know you." I saved the most important part for last. "I w-want you to kn-know m-mmmme." Bella continued to run her hands through her hair as she drew in measured and even breaths. I was still standing by my door, watching her closely, when she stood up. Panic gripped me as I thought she would run for sure now. I couldn't swallow, just as I couldn't breathe. I wanted her to stay with me just for a little bit longer. I wanted her to open up and show me the little bits and pieces inside of her that had broken so long ago. I wanted her to let me touch her face so that I could smooth away those little lines on her forehead. I wanted her to let me make her smile and let me shoulder just a little bit of the pain she tried so hard to mask. I didn't understand why she held onto it so steadfastly. It wasn't fair for one person to have so much weight pressing down on her. If I could just take a little piece of it and carry it for a while, she wouldn't need to do all of the drugs she did. Because no matter what she told me, I knew that she'd been doing a lot more than smoking pot on a daily basis. I knew that this girl, this broken girl whose pain too closely mirrored my own, didn't want me as a boyfriend. She'd been clear about that, but I couldn't help but want to protect her from all the bad that seemed to live inside of her. I wanted to protect her from herself; I wanted to keep her safe from the demons that had consumed my mother. "D-don't go," I whispered, desperation clearly present in my tone. "I don't have anything to give you, Edward." I moved towards her and I kept my motions slow. I knew what it was like to feel caged and out of control of the situation and I didn't want her to feel like that with me. Ever. "I don't w-want anything, B-Bella." That wasn't entirely true, since I wanted a lot from, with, and of Bella. But I would take what I could get from her. I needed her to stay. I took another step forward and tried to keep her wild eyes locked with mine. The charge that was between us, the unspoken energy that surged and zinged between us, spurred me on. As awkward as it was and as much as I thought Newton might be right, I had to do this. "You don't hhhhhave t-to run aw-way from me, B-Bella." I was very close to her now and very aware of how her body was reacting. Reaching out, I let my fingers brush the back of her hand. I wanted so badly to feel her comforting touch, but in this moment, I also wanted my touch to be comforting to her. Her eyes were cast down to the floor as I took my last step to her, bringing my body so close to hers that I could feel her pulse tapping out of her, singing a song to the blood that flowed within my veins. I needed her. I needed her in a way that was foreign and uncomfortable. I needed her in a way that would make me take chances that I would have never even thought about before. "I w-won't hhhhhurt you," I whispered to her, knowing that she'd hear every minute nuance in my tone. Her fingers gripped mine tighter and I could see her body visibly tense up as I raised my other hand, slowly bringing it towards her face. Bella's breath caught, her lips slightly parted as the pads of my finger tips grazed her cheekbone. My eyes slipped closed as I concentrated on the feel of the smooth skin until I heard her gasp. I nearly jumped, my eyes popping open when she move away quickly. The fact that she still kept her hand

within mine was not lost on me. Her chest was heaving, her leg buckling and straightening rapidly as her lips pressed together. I felt horrible as I realized that she was on the verge of tears. "I don't like" When she didn't continue, I felt the need to prompt her. "You d-don't liiiiike w-what?" Bella's eyes came up to meet mine and the pain welling within was almost too much for me to stomach. "My face. I don't like it when you touch my face. It'suncomfortable." "B-b-but I can t-touch your hhhhands?" It took her a moment to respond. It looked like she was deciding her answer right then and there. Finally, she nodded and so I wasted no time and took her other hand. "I-I-I d-don't liiiike to be touched either, b-b-but it's niiiiiice w-when you d-do it." She gave me a little smile, but her body was still tense. "I d-don't w-want you to get high ssssssso m-much, B-Bella," I admitted quietly, hoping it wouldn't upset her. "And I want you to beat the shit out of Prick Newton, Edward." She always did that. She always threw it back to me. She sat back down after a while and pulled me down on the couch next to her. "I want to" she whispered, but let the thought hang in the air. "B-Bella?" I asked, unable to stop myself from doing so. "Yes," she answered in a whisper. "W-w-will you d-do me a fffffavor?" One of my hands broke loose from hers and I carefully brought it up to run through her hair. It was like silk, soft and smooth between my fingers. With a gulp, she nodded. "Hhhhhide from e-e-everyone else, b-but not from mmmme." Bella's eyes widened and her breath was shaky. "I w-worry about you, B-Bella." Her breathing was raspy as she shook her head. "I w-won't hhhurt you," I promised again. There was a sound and I realized that I hadn't been looking directly at Bella. I'd been focusing on her lonely ear and now that I shifted my eyes back to her face, I could see the pain my words had caused. And I understood it. A promise like that cut deep because she didn't believe it. A girl like Bella expected pain. She expected every person she met to contribute to the deep well within her that housed that pain. Since my hand was already buried in her hair, I scooped it up and pulled it to one side, exposing her neck and the four tiny scars. My thumb brushed over it and I felt the shiver that ran through her. "I hhhhate your m-mm-mmmother, B-Bella." "I shouldn't have been late." She swallowed hard as she shook her head. It felt like she was trying to get me to remove my hand, but I kept it there, in her hair. "I was the one who loaded the fork with the tines up, Edward. She didn't" "You c-can't defend your m-mother to m-me." My words were honest and true. There was nothing she could say that would make me hate her

mother less or could make what the woman did to her okay. I had only heard two incomplete stories behind the pain reflected in Bella's eyes, but I knew that there was more. I knew that there was an endless list of occurrences that she didn't speak of to anyone. "You can't" she began to say, but I brushed my thumb agains t her scar again and her words stopped. "D-don't hhhide from me." Bella took in a deep breath and let it out in measured intervals before her eyes moved to lock with mine. Her hand still gripped mine tightly, and as her other hand moved to press against my chest, her body relaxed just slightly. Even though I had a clock in my room, there was no way for me to tell how long we actually sat on my couch like that. The room darkened as the fall sun set outside of my window. Faintly, I could hear Emmett's booming voice downstairs. It was getting late and Bella would need to eat. I wanted to take care of her, but I knew if I told her that, she would just struggle against it. Before I could do anything else, Bella had shifted on the couch, her whole body coming to rest on top of mine. Now my eyes widened as my body instantly reacted to hers. She sat upon me, knees to either side of my hips, her hands threaded through my hair as she buried her face in my neck. If I wasn't hard at the feel of her breasts pressing against my chest, the feel of her tongue against my skin definitely made me stiffen. It was pretty much all I could do to keep myself from whimpering like a frightened puppy as her body rocked just slightly against mine. It was my breath that caught now and for as much courage I'd thought I'd had just moments ago, it fled the moment so much of her body connected with mine. It left rising panic in its wake. I didn't want Bella to know. I didn't want her to know the outright terror of my body's reaction. I wanted her to think that I was strong and capable of being normal. My entire body pulsated for her and every throb was very acutely centered in my pants. Her lips moved from my neck to my jawline and from there, they moved against my own lips. And they felt so good, so indescribable, against mine. But I didn't want her to know how incapable I was, so I had to get her to stop. Maybe if it was just her lips on mine and not her entire body, I could have let myself linger a little longer. My hands carefully and gently encircled her wrists and pulled them from my shoulders and chest. I tilted my head away from her lips. "B-B-Bella, p-p-p-p-p-p" Her breath was warm against my cheek and it did nothing to subside throbbing pulse in my groin. "What?" she exhaled. I took a moment to try to compose myself. Music flooded my mind as I tried to think of something to say to her without stammering my way through it. "Y-your ffffather w-w-will b-be w-w-worried." "My father?" I nodded. Her tongue darted out against her lower lip before she sucked it into her mouth. I almost missed the shake of her head before she pressed her lips against me again, her body shifting, almost painfully, against mine. "B-B-Bella," I tried again. She stopped. "You don't want me?" she questioned as she sat up straight. "But I can tell that you want me," she said, accentuating her words with a rock of her hips. "I-I-I do," I said quickly, not able to edit my thoughts very well. "B-b-but I"

"Then I'll be yours," she whispered. Her arms moved, wrists still encompassed by my hands. She tried to weave her fingers through my hair again and as much as I wanted her to, I couldn't let her. "Justjust take it, Edward. Just take me. I won't say no to you." I leaned back as far as I could, trying to break the physical connection as much as I could. "J-just b-because I w-want you, B-B-Bella, d-doesn't mean I c-can have you." She tried again to press against me, but my hands tightened on her wrists. I hated how delicate they felt in my hands. I hated the strength I had to use to get her to stop. Letting out a harsh breath, Bella pulled away from me, standing up and yanking her hands out of mine. She looked so angry and hurt as I looked up at her. I sat there awkwardly, wishing that my erection wasn't straining so badly against my jeans and wishing that she wasn't so angry at me Her teeth were clenched together as she just stood there, staring at me. After a few measured breaths, she said, "I have to go make Charlie food before he succumbs to malnutrition. Give me a ride home?" I nodded, hating that the softness between us had given way to this calculating coldness. She gripped her bag tightly and didn't speak at all as I stole as many glances as I could the entire ride home. She didn't look angry anymore, but more like a worried child. "B-B-Bella," I tried as I pulled up to her house. I reached out for her hand and it actually hurt when she yanked it out of my reach before I could actually touch it. "I have to go." She wouldn't look at me as she popped open the door and swung her feet out. It took me a few moments to get the words out, as they all seemed to get stuck in my throat. "C-c-can I p-p-p-p," I stopped and breathed, "pick you up ag-g-gain t-t-t-tomorrow?" With a sigh, she said yes before moving out of my car, slamming the door closed and running up the stairs of her porch. ... The erection, while no less painful and embarrassing than before, had resolved itself much quicker this time. I was hard for hours after dropping Bella off, but there hadn't been that pressing need and urgency. At least I didn't have to resort to going to Carlisle for medical help, and I hadn't needed to think of anything horrible to make it fade away. I was grateful for that. While Bella had let me pick her up from school the next day and the days following, she wouldn't let me drive her home and she flat-out refused to spend any extra time with me. She let Jacob drive her home after school. She hadn't e-mailed, even after I e-mailed her on Tuesday. It was on Thursday evening when I finally downloaded the instant messenger system that went along with the e-mail program. It said that she was online, although I had no clue if she really was or not. Maybe her computer was just on. Into the small white box, I typed, "I'm sorry," and pressed send, waiting, preparing myself for no response, for whatever reason. Imabell: Why are you sorry? ECullen123: For upsetting you.

Imabell: You didn't upset me. We're cool. ECullen123: It doesn't seem like it. It was a full minute before she replied. Imabell: You take shit too personally. We're fine. I didn't know what to type. She said we were fine but would tomorrow be any better different than the past few days? ECullen123: I can pick you up tomorrow? Imabell: Sure. When I picked her up, she smiled at me when I handed her coffee. I felt childish, then actual joy that she liked coffee too. She was incredibly high again. Apart from saying hello, the ride to school was silent. I couldn't think of anything to say much beyond asking her not to get high ever again, and she wouldn't like that, so I kept quiet. Bella was in her own head. Her leg bounced slowly as her head rested back against the seat. Her expression was blank, except the slight smile playing on her lips. The vacant look in her eyes seemed so sad. How could I be the only one who could tell she was so high, so often? "Bye, Edward," she said as she pushed open the door and clumsily collected her things. "W-w-will you sssssit w-with me at lunch?" Bella stopped all her movements, her body facing away from me. "I hang out with Jacob at lunch." The way she said it was strained and I knew that she was telling me that she would rather go get high on her lunch break. The ever-present prickling fear that started deep inside my chest and then crawled up the back of my neck burst into metaphorical flames that rose from the arches of my feet to the crown of my head. The fear was that I was not, nor would I ever be, enough for Bella. Bella would choose getting high over me every time. Just like my mom. I hadn't realized how worked up I had gotten until I felt her hand in my hair. My eyes had been pressed shut and I let out a stunted breath when I opened them. Despite her wildly high eyes, she looked at me softly, much softer than anyone had ever really looked at me. The hand in my hair was sending small charging volts of electricity straight through me and I wondered, not for the first time, if she even felt it. "B-Bella," I began, wanting to say so many things to her, but she wouldn't let me. "We'll hang out tonight, okay?" I wished that I could've kept my mouth shut, but I didn't. Instead, I found myself whining to her. "B-but you're g-going to g-get hhhhigh w-w-w-w-with JJJJJJ" No matter how hard I tried, I could not get his name out. "Quit trying to change me, Edward." Her hand slipped from my hair. "I'll see you in Biology." Again, I sat in the car for a moment and watched her walk away from me again, wondering if it would ever be less painful and if I would ever be enough for her. Obviously, Mike Newton was upset that I was spending time with Bella and that she'd ridden to school with me every day this week, because he was practically waiting for me as I got out of my car.

In addition to being punched in the same spot each day, he had a new comment every day this week about one of Bella's body parts and what he wanted to do to it. It was disgusting. And today when his fist connected with my ribs again, I winced in pain. But when he said, "I'm going to fuck her until she's raw and begging for more," I'd had enough. "Sh-shhhhhhut up." He laughed, like I knew he would. "Aw, that's cute, C-C-Cullen, but you know that she's really only hanging around with you out of pity, man. She'll definitely" "Y-you k-keep sssssaying you're g-going to f-f-fffff" I couldn't make myself say it so I switched it before I looked like I was having an epileptic seizure, "have ssssex w-with her b-but you fffforget that she hhhhates y-you." Mike yawned exaggeratedly half-way through my stunted speech and was smiling widely now. "She doesn't have to like me, C-C-Cullen. She's the kind of girl who'll fuck anyone." He licked his lips. "Well," he said with a low chuckle, eyeing me as if I were a speck of dirt on his expensive white sneakers. "Maybe not anyone. She probably won't let you touch her, will she?" While it was true that she wouldn't let me touch her face, she had practically dry humped me on Monday. I bet that would have shut Newton up, but as soon as I had the though, I felt horrible. I didn't want to use her as some kind of pawn in a game of one-upmanship with Mike. "You really fucking like her, don't you?" I wished now that I hadn't said anything at all. If possible, the smile on his face widened further. "She's going to look so fucking hot with her lips wrapped around my dick." I really wanted to hurt him. The warning bell sounded and I was grateful for the physical pain that accompanied his parting blow to my already damaged ribs. The physical pain at least meant he was leaving. Mike leaned in close, menace in his eyes for me alone to see. "Just wait, Cullen. Just wait until your big brother's fucking gone next year. I will fuck your shit up every day." My mood didn't improve when I watched Bella follow Jacob out of the cafeteria again. Mike caught my eyes and I felt like I'd been caught looking at something I shouldn't have. He made an obscene gesture. My mood continued to sink when she wasn't in Biology. I practically had to drag myself to the library to re-stock books for Mrs. Peters, but I wasn't there long. I was putting away a book about the Bolshevik Revolution when I found Bella sitting on the ground, her eyes closed as she leaned back against the book stack. My heart ached and my chest clenched at the sight of her. While she looked still, her body was continually moving, rocking, shaking, trembling. She sniffed loudly and then shook her head as her fingers picked at the old carpeting. "B-Bella?" Her eyes were open and suddenly too wide. A smile spread across her face. "It's Edward. Give it back, Edward," she murmured. I set the book on the shelf and then squatted down next to her. "G-g-give w-what back?" Her hand captured mine and she closed her eyes again. "The air." Her other hand pressed against her chest, clutching at her shirt as the hand inside mine squeezed tighter. "I can't breathe," she said. The way she continually squeezed and released my hand frightened me. There was a desperate need to it and I began to really worry that she might not just be really high, but have entirely too much in her system. Without really thinking about it, I scooped her up and stood, bringing her very close to me.

She smelled so good. The library was empty and when I told Mrs. Peters that I was taking her to the nurse, Bella sighed against my shoulder, but once we were out of the library, she mumbled something about a good cover and I shook my head as my feet propelled us forward. "I-I-I'm r-really t-t-taking you to ssssee the n-nurse." Bella stilled in my arms for just the briefest of moments before her whole body began to move, pushing and pulling against me. "Nope." She shook her head exaggeratedly. "Not the nurse," she said. Her breath was hot against my face as she struggled away from me. "They'll see and she'll know." She had managed to get her feet on the floor, but I kept her standing, pressed up against me. "Don't tell my mom," she begged, her voice nothing more than a child's. I wanted to tell her that I would never say anything to her mother, but also that her mother wasn't even in the state, so she was safe. "I w-w-won't." Her hands pulled at her hair as she pressed her face against my chest. I managed to lead her outside, forgoing the nurse's office because she was right and I didn't want her to get in trouble. I didn't want her to be taken away from me like that. Bella's body was moving constantly, her hands wringing together as she nibbled on her lip and bounced on her feet. "I need to smoke," she said, refusing to move any farther. "I need to come down a little." "W-w-what are you on?" She shook her head and I knew that she wasn't going to tell me, so I watched her smoke pot through a straight pipe that looked like a cigarette as we knelt down behind my car for cover. ... "W-w-why w-w-would someone w-want to do that? T-to fffeel like that? W-why would she choose those things o-over mmme?" I looked up at Esme, knowing that I gave her next to nothing to go on. I didn't want to tell her that Bella had gotten so high or that I watched her get even higher in an attempt to not be so high. "Are we talking about your mother or Bella?" My eyes narrowed. "Y-y-you kn-know ab-b-bout B-Bella?" "She's not subtle, Edward. And apart from that, there's not much more I can talk to you about." "B-b-but if you kn-know, w-w-w-why aren't you d-doing sssssomething?" Esme took a deep breath, looked out the window for just a second and then turned her eyes back to me. "First, I've had no concrete evidence that anything like that was going on, and if you have concerns about it, you should've told someone." I shook my head, never wanting to break Bella's trust like that. Perhaps Esme was the same way. Maybe Esme did with Bella what she did with me, push just enough in certain areas until the boundaries had been formed and tested. Maybe Esme was working up to making Bella stop using drugs. "Hypothetically, let's say that there's this girl and I knew that she was using drugs as her coping mechanism. I might choose to allow her to continue until I could find the root cause." "B-b-but she c-c-c-could" "Get hurt?"

I nodded. "There are some really deep issues with this girl, Edward. Putting her straight into a rehab program would do nothing. People have to want to give up their addictions, otherwise it's all wasted. Everything an addict goes though is deeply personal and unless the decision to change is one they come to on their own, it'll never stick. This fictional girl needs to come to an understanding that she's not really dealing or coping with anything by doing what she's doing." I tried to regulate my breathing, but I didn't know if I could stave off the impending panic. "B-b-but w-why w-would she choose th-that o-over ssssomeone w-who w-wanted to hhhhelp hhher?" "Because she's hurt, Edward and you make her feel that. Ripping layer after layer of bandages off an open wound hurts before it feels better." I felt Esme's eyes on me, studying me. "She's been shut down in survival mode for at least fifteen years. It's not easy for a person to flip a switch and change just because they want to. We all have different reactions to things. "Our fictional girl shut down. "She found things that dulled the pain and the emotions until they were manageable. She learned how not to deal. "And don't forget, Edward, no one saved the girl when she was twelve years old like when you were removed from your home. No one saved her when she was seventeen either. She had to resort to getting caught doing something illegal." Esme paused and looked at me hard. "Do you understand? No one saved her. No one. The only person the girl's been able to trust is herself. You have Alice." "B-b-but I w-want to be her Aliiiice." Smiling at me, Esme said, "I know and I'm sure she wants that too, but she's never trusted anyone enough to let them in. That's not an easy thing for her to do. Now she's met you and she likes you. I can see that," she paused, shaking her head before continuing. "The hypothetical girl likes you, but she can't make it easy on herself. She has to keep herself closed off, her emotions very tightly controlled. "However, her control is slipping, because along with all of the good feelings she can experience with you, the floodgates are opening and letting in every negative thought she's been running from for years." It made sense and I was thankful to have the time with Esme to make the puzzle pieces fit. "She's having to deal with everything she never wanted to. The small cracks in her giant wall of armor are growing bigger and she can't fix them quick enough, Edward. She's finally being forced to look at what happened instead of shoving it in her back pocket and trying to forget it." "And, Edward?" she said my name seriously. "We don't even know what happened to her, and even if we did, we haven't lived this girl's life, so we'll never know what it was like for her." Esme's smile and her eyes softened as she finished. "She doesn't get high because of you, Edward. The girl gets high because it's one of her very few defenses against a world that has shown her nothing but pain and she's frightened to let it go. Just as she uses her anger as a shield, she wraps herself in a world where no one can hurt her again." Esme's eyes narrowed at me. "Do you understand? Sometimes we are all victims of our natural instinct to avoid pain and suffering. She's cutting it off at the pass. A pre-emptive strike, if you will." So I made up my mind right there. I was going to help her let it go. I was going to give her myself as an alternative to doing whatever drugs she was doing. Because she wasn't a fictional girl. Bella was real and she meant more to me than anything else in my life.

...

Chapter 35: Nine Days B POV I hadn't had sex in nine days and it was about killing me. All I could feel throughout the day was the delicious left-over feeling of Edward's body underneath mine. But he fucking cockblocked himself. What guy does that? I hadn't meant to get so fucking high, but I'd snorted a line before lunch and then smoked pot with Jacob, and that brought down my cocaine high, so I snorted a little more before Biology. Well, I snorted a lot more. I ended up in the library and not Banner's classroom. It was quiet in there and I found a little spot that was comfortable. Suddenly Edward was there and he was comfortable and felt really, really nice, but then he said something about a nurse and it didn't matter how nice he felt, I had to get out of his hold because my mother would find out that I saw a nurse. Of course, it was the cocaine that had me paranoid because logically, my mother wouldn't find out that I'd seen a nurse and even if I had, I'd been away from Renee long enough to not have any fresh, visible marks that would raise suspicion. But Edward didn't take me to a nurse. I smoked enough pot behind his car to stop freaking the fuck out and then went to his house where I laid on his couch until Dr. Cullen had knocked on his door, to say that Hale wanted to see him. Dr. Cullen invited me downstairs so that he could take my blood pressure, blood sugar, and whatever the hell else he thought about taking. He mentioned that Edward told him that I hadn't been feeling well. I was definitely crashing now, so I sat in the Cullen kitchen letting him stick my finger with a lancet and put a cuff around my upper arm while kids started filing in now that school was out. "So, Bella, your father mentioned that you got a job at the grocery store." "Yeah." "Have you started?" He placed a drop of blood on the meter and waited for me and the machine to respond. "Yeah. Wednesday. Lots of training videos and papers to sign." I felt like a lump. A tired lump that needed to sleep. The meter beeped. "Your blood sugar is elevated. Is that normal with the amount of insulin you take?" I thought for a moment, my brain sluggish. "I've been a little low lately, but" He quirked his eyebrow as he waited for me. "I can't remember if I took my insulin today or not," I admitted.

"Does that happen a lot?" I shook my head, wishing that I hadn't said anything. "Not usually." I'd done a bump of coke around four this morning, so I must've missed it. "Do you feel like your diabetes is being properly managed?" "Sure." I knew he had a million doctor questions that he'd keep asking to keep me occupied until Dr. Hale wanted me, so I took a offensive measure. "How did you know to give Edward a guitar?" Dr. Cullen looked surprised at my question. "What do you mean?" "He said you got him a guitar even though he'd never played. So how did you know he was going to be good at it?" He smiled and even in my drugged state, I nearly swooned over that shit. "I didn't." His voice was low as his eye took in the other Fuck-Up Club members milling around. "Edward used to bite his hands." He frowned, his eyes clouding a bit. "Not just his fingernails. He would just bite down on the meat of his hands until he drew blood and even then sometimes he wouldn't stop." Dr. Cullen paused and pulled off the blood pressure cuff from my arm. "It was clear that he did it when he was upset or particularly stressed. His hands were so mangled that I wondered how he could use them in his day-to-day activities." Dr. Cullen backed up and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes looking far away. "So I bought him a guitar as a more peaceful, less painful way to channel his frustration. I lucked out because not only did it work in occupying his hands and helping with his stress and anxiety level, he was really gifted. It has become a source of peace to him and it seems to be a preventative measure. He can use it to help stop himself from becoming even more anxious." Damn. It was hard to imagine Edward even more on edge than he was now. I did my best to put that information to the side in my head. I didn't want to think about Edward's hands all bloody and torn up. I didn't want to imagine him being the one who did that to himself. ... "Let's talk, Bella." I didn't have the energy to do anything but roll my eyes. "I thought that was mandatory." Esme smiled at me. "Talking is not mandatory, but it is helpful. We can write if you prefer, or use sign language. Or since you're a photographer, we can use pictures." "Are you fucking with me?" Was she antagonizing me? Was she saying that I was stupid? My fucking mind was like sludge and it did not appreciate this wicked come-down. I'd been too fucking high at school today. Absolutely insanely high. That was something even I knew I should not do again, but I was pretty sure I would anyway. The more and more fucked up thoughts I had, the more and more shit I did. And the fuck of it all was

that I knew I didn't need any more after that first bump this morning, but I just wasn't high enough. "I'm serious, Bella." I put my focus back on Dr. Hale, trying to remember what the fuck we were talking about. "Not everyone can verbalize, especially when they've been trained not to." "Trained?" I asked, my eyes sliding away from hers. I wasn't high enough for this shit. I didn't have enough energy to get angry, as I was nothing more than a Bella-shaped puddle of mud, flowing so slowly that I forgot what the beginning of my own internal chatter was about. "Yes, trained. Being shown or told over and over until it is ingrained." "I know what the word train means." Dr. Hale waited a moment before speaking again. "I know you do." She uncapped her bottle of water and took a sip. "I'd like to see some of your photos some time." "Yeah." She'd said that shit before. "Have you given any thought about our discussion from last week?" I sighed heavily. "I haven't fucked anyone in for-fucking-ever." I ran my hands through my hair. I knew that it hadn't been all that long, but it felt like it. "Has that been difficult for you?" I could have lied to her, or said nothing. "Yes," I admitted. I wasn't quite sure when I'd made the decision to talk to Dr. Hale about this shit, but here I was, just handing out information about myself. "Why do you enjoy sex?" "Seriously?" "Seriously." "Because it feels good. It's fun." She just looked at me. "What?" I asked, not happy with her just staring at me like that. "Do you think it's normal or healthy for a seventeen-year-old to have as much sex as you do?" I really wished that I wasn't presently the owner of a leaden body because if I'd had the energy, I'd have gotten up and left, but because I was too tired to really do anything else, I responded. "First, you don't know how much sex I do or don't have. Second, if this is some kind of 'sex is bad' speech you can save it. You and I both know your twins are getting the shit fucked out of them left and right by Emmett and Alice, so don't go all high and mighty on me." Hale cocked an eye brow at me. "And third?" "Third, if seventeen-year-olds want to have sex as much as I have sex, what the fuck is wrong with that? I don't get it. Somehow in ten months when I turn 18, it'll magically be okay to fuck?" "You indicated that you had sex with men who were older than you. How many of your partners were

over the age of eighteen?" I sighed. "One, I'm not giving numbers, because that's a shady-ass way of trying to get me to tell you shit that's not your business, and two, why is age important?" "Fine, we'll take the number out of the equation. Were the majority of your partners older than you?" "I don't know. Why do you want to talk about this?" "Because it's important. It's not healthy for a young woman to engage in such reckless behavior." I couldn't suppress my laugh. "Who the fuck cares?" I was suddenly very energized and very upset. "Who the fuck cares if I'm healthy or not? You? You get paid to spew shit at me. And Charlie? Yeah, Charlie doesn't fucking care, he just has to fulfill his obligation." "What about Edward?" I swallowed hard and I looked away from her, all the fire I'd felt a moment before rushing out of me. "He cares." "Well, maybe he shouldn't," I said, my voice deflated. I knew he cared about me, but he damn well shouldn't. And I shouldn't have given a fuck about him, but that wasn't how it went. No, for whatever reason, some unseen force pulled me to him, like fucking Romeo and Juliet, the stars crossed or some shit. So now as I was stuck wanting to feel fucking good, but I was trying to be good so I didn't hurt Edward and for whatever reason, he wasn't interested in getting off with me. That shit fucking hurt when he basically rejected me completely, and it wasn't fucking fair that it hurt. Jacob was almost always hard and I could have fucked him so easily, but no, I fucking let these people mindfuck me into thinking that not having sex was a good idea. "Will you answer the question, Bella?" Right. The fucking question. "I don't know. A lot of them have been older. Who fucking cares?" "I do." I looked up at her. "Yes, and as we've established, you're getting paid good money to 'care,' so I repeat, who fucking cares about who I fuck?" "You should care, Bella. What do you get from these men beyond fleeting physical pleasure? Do you get some kind of validation or feel some sort of love from the" I sighed heavily, effectively cutting her off. I forced my lethargic body to move and hoisted myself out of the chair. "I'm not talking to you about this shit. Who and why I fuck isn't your fucking business, so write what you want in your shitty little notebook and leave me alone." As I moved to the door, Dr. Hale didn't give up. "Why haven't you had sex this week?" Jesus motherfucking Christ. It wasn't because there was no one fuckable around, that was for sure. It took everything I had in me to not screw Jacob daily.

The real reason was probably sitting downstairs looking all uncomfortable and pained. I didn't know which was worse; not having sex, or not having sex because I liked Edward. Instead of answering, I walked out, slamming the door. ... I lay on Edward's couch, my head filled with stupid thoughts spurred by Hale's questions about the men I'd fucked, as Edward fiddled with his iPod trying to find some music for us to listen to. I was no more energetic now than I was an hour ago talking to Dr. Hale, but everything just felt better now that I was in his room. As I looked at the ceiling, I tried to find something else to think about. I had no more pills, so I wouldn't be able to get high until after I got home and probably not until after Charlie had gone to sleep. I looked at Edward's walls and wondered why he had no pictures, no posters, nothing but instruments hanging there. "Do you have pictures of your family?" I turned my head towards him, finding myself lusting after his sexy back. He was wearing a gray button-down today and it was pulled tight across his shoulders and then loosened at the middle of his back. "What was your name before Cullen adopted you?" Pain swept through me as I saw his shoulders slump forward just slightly at my question. Maybe I should've asked those things in an e-mail, but I was here with him now and it seemed like I should be able to ask him something like this now that we werewhatever the fuck we were to each other. "M-M-MMMasen." "Did you have to change your name?" He shook his head as he turned around, apparently satisfied with this depressing-ass piano music, and moved over to his bed. "You wanted to?" He nodded and took in a deep breath. Instead of sitting down, he moved to his bedside table and opened a drawer. He lifted a million fucking things before pulling out something small, and then walked over to me. I sat up and reached for it, shivering slightly as our fingers brushed and the usual zing of current pulsed between us. When I looked at the paper, I found that it was a small photograph of four people. The red-haired woman held a boy with rusty auburn hair, standing next to a very severe-looking man with his hands very awkwardly resting on a brown-haired boy's shoulders. Edward had handed me the photograph face down and he had moved away before I had turned it over. He was currently sitting on the edge of his bed not looking like he owned the fucking thing, while his eyes were steadfastly fixed on one of his guitars. He obviously didn't like this picture or anything that it represented. I wished that I hadn't asked about it. But it was in my hands now and I looked at it closely. Little boy Edward was fucking cute with crazy long eyelashes and amazingly bright green eyes and hair that obviously no one could tame. No one's smiles seemed right. They were all wrong, fake or forced, and the guy who was apparently Edward's father didn't even try to smile. He looked like an amazing asshole. I looked back at the younger version of Edward. He was small and his face was different, but I could

see the Edward I knew in there. I sucked at guessing ages, but he looked like he could have only been five at the time. I wondered what his voice sounded like when he was that young. I wondered if when this picture was taken he had begun stuttering yet. "Do you miss your brother?" I asked. I hadn't even looked at his brother really, so as I asked the question, I studied the photograph. He looked fairly unremarkable, but not in a bad way. He just looked like every other kid in the world. He seemed quite a bit older than Edward. If Edward was five, he would have been nine or ten. When I looked back up, he wasn't perched on the edge of his bed; he was standing right next to me. His fingers gently plucked the picture from between my fingers and then he turned silently to replace it in the drawer. I wished that I hadn't looked up at him in that moment and seen the unmasked sadness on his face and some kind of fresh fear in his eyes. So Edward didn't want to talk about his brother. "Do you want to do something this weekend? His eyes, suddenly brightened and sparkled like usual. "Y-y-yes," he answered immediately and I couldn't stifle my smile. I was more excited than I cared to admit that he was still so happy to spend time with me. "You should come over then. Like tomorrow or something. I think Charlie has to work. I was going to make a roast, but I work Sunday so we can't hang out until after three." I stood up, feeling somewhat over-exposed, and crossed over to his book shelf. Gliding my fingers over the spines of the books, I added, "Or I can come over here if we have to do shit with the brussel sprouts or whatever." "W-w-what do you w-want to do?" I sighed. "I'll come over here," I answered quietly. "The HHHHales m-might be hhhhere." I figured that, so I shrugged. "It's okay. I like it here." "Ssssso tomorrow?" "Yeah." I heard him take a deep breath. "W-w-will you n-not get hhhhigh?" I spun around at his question, ready to be absolutely and completely pissed off at him. I could be high if I wanted to be, and I certainly didn't need his permission. Then I saw his face and how absolutely torn he looked, and I couldn't be upset with him. When I thought about it, I was pretty damn sure that Edward wasn't happy at the prospect that I might've gotten angry with him for asking me. I was oddly proud of him for asking. "Yeah, fine. I mean, sure." I swallowed hard, wondering how the fuck I was going to get through an entire day without getting high. Well, I would try anyway. I felt like the fucking Grinch looking at Edward and his all too hopeful smile, my heart growing two sizes bigger or something. All this shit was scary. I've never really wanted to try for anything and here I was making this pledge.

He moved towards me and I turned back around, reaching out for some green chunk of rock on his shelf with my right hand. I squeezed it tightly in the palm of my hand and angled my face away from Edward. His presence was like the sun on my left, his body radiating heat and light and energy into me. His hands slipped around my left hand and I squeezed the rock tighter in my right. My breath caught as I felt liking giving up everything I'd been holding onto so tightly. I wanted to give him everything inside of me. I wanted the light of his sun to stamp out the coldness of the dark night in my heart. It was in these moments that my time with Edward was the most dangerous. It was at times like these that he made me feel safe and secure and it was in these minutes that were ours alone where I gave him everything I never wanted to. My hair fell like a shield between us. One of his hands released mine and I squeezed the rock again when I felt his finger tips brush my cheek. I'd told him that I didn't like that and I wanted to get upset and angry, but I couldn't. "D-don't hhhide, p-please." I didn't understand him at all. Why wasn't he trying to fuck me? Why would he give a shit if I hid? I turned, moving the hand that held the rock to his ribs. I wanted to press myself to him and undo the buttons of his shirt, but as I pressed my fisted hand just lightly into his side, he took in a sharp breath, and his eyes closed tightly. "What's wrong?" I asked him quietly. "N-nothing." Bullshit. Edward was a terrible liar. His eyes told the truth when his mouth did not. "Why does your side hurt, Edward?" His hand dropped mine and he moved away, but not far. "I-it's o-okay, B-Bella." Liar. "Why can't I hide if you do?" "I'm n-n-not hhhhhiding." He stepped back to me and retook my hand, I squeezed the rock again. "M-my sssside is fine." I twisted towards him again. It seemed as though my body was going to do whatever it wanted, instead of listening to what I was told it to do. It was because of my mutinous body that I found myself pressed against him, breathing in his orange earth scent. Careful of his seemingly injured side, I allowed my hands to slide around his waist and I hugged him. Measuring my breaths, I kept telling myself that it was okay, that I could be this close to him. I felt like I was moving, even though I was pretty fucking sure I was totally still. I felt his chin come to rest on the top of my hair, and my heart started racing as I fought desperately between wanting this comfort from him and needing to be very far away from his touch. I wasn't stupid. I recognized the want, the need, for him that had been created within me. But like I told him, it was stupid to want what you couldn't have. And although he was so incredibly willing to give himself to me, what he offered came at such a high price. If this continued, I'd let him see me; I'd let him know the things about me that even I didn't want to

know. Once you knew something, you couldn't ever not know it. And once he knew, he would leave, so he shouldn't even try. I pushed away from him, still mindful of the pain in his side. I wanted to move to the other side of the room, a safer place where he wasn't, but his hand curled around mine again and I found myself bound to him once more. He kept me close to his body. "Edward," I exhaled, not entirely sure why I was saying his name like that. "D-d-don't get hhhhigh tomorrow a-a-and I'll tell you ab-b-bout mmmy r-ribs." ... Saturday morning was the outright worst fucking Saturday morning known to man. I woke up after only a few hours of sleep, wishing that I had never made that stupid promise to Edward. I had the perfect opportunity, as Charlie was gone by the time I left my room and I had plenty of pot. It would have helped me fall back to sleep, but the stupid nagging voice inside my head wouldn't let me disappoint Edward. I nearly fell to my death on the stupid, slanted stairs in Charlie's old-as-fuck house. I burned my finger on the coffee burner since, the carafe wasn't the correct one to be used with that model and it took me longer than ever to get my blood sugar read so that I could get my insulin into me, and when I did, I fucking jabbed the lancet in the finger that always fucking hurt and it bled like fucking hell. A small red drop found its way onto the knee of my jeans. I took the bus to the strip mall about a mile from Edward's house. I could've let him pick me up and now that I was hoofing it the rest of the way, I wished my stupid, prideful mouth would have let me ask him last night. I held the rock from the night before in the fist of my right hand. I wondered if he missed it or if he even knew that I had it. He looked so good in jeans and a light blue t-shirt when he opened the door. He was so much more comfortable in his own home than he was at school. Edward grabbed his coat as we went to the quiet greenhouse and I was amazed at how warm it was inside. I looked at the plants, which were no longer sprouts, but actual plants, and I immediately felt like shit. If I'd been high, I wouldn't have felt like the worst person on the face of the planet. "I'm sorry." "Ffffor w-what?" "I'm not really fair to you, am I?" He quirked his eyebrow at me questioningly. "You give more than you get from me." Edward shook his head. "Y-you g-give a-a-a llllot." His eyes said he was lying. "Your lies make baby Jesus cry, Edward. I'm a bad lab partner."

I almost regretted trying to lighten the mood just a little when his eyes lowered, but then his lips twitched just a tad and I found him smiling at me. "I haven't gotten high all day, you know," I whispered. What the fuck did I want? Diabetic cookies and a gold fucking star that said 'Edward Cullen approved'? Then I realized that my reward was the beautiful smile that rarely graced his face, and I wanted to bask in it forever, but I remembered he promised me something in return. "So what happened to your side?" The smile faded and he shook his head. "M-M-MMMike N-Newton." "What the fuck did he do?" Again, Edward shook his head as he held up a hand as if to tell me that his ribs didn't hurt that badly. "Hhhe j-just hhhhit me." "Why?" My teeth were clenched. I wanted to hurt Mike Newton. "D-does hhhhe n-need a reason?" No matter how much I yearned to beat the shit out of Mike for hurting Edward, we spoke no more of it. It was obviously not a subject Edward wanted to talk about and I was pretty sure that was because he was embarrassed. I wished he wasn't embarrassed. I wished he'd just kick the shit out of Newton and get it over with. We went inside and started cooking dinner. "You made your own barbeque sauce?" Emmett's loud question shook me out of my quiet thoughts as I stared at my food. I'd been trying to avoid too much talking. I wasn't high at all and I found it incredibly difficult to hold much of a conversation with anyone. I cleared my throat. "Uh, yeah, all you really need is tomatoes, hickory smoke, molasses and a couple of spices." I wanted dinner to be over so that I could go back up to Edward's room with him. By ourselves. Rosalie gave me the stink-eye while everyone else ate. "You have a very artful eye for plating, Bella," Dr. Hale said, obviously taking note that I had plated each dish instead of having everyone serve themselves. "The colors and the shapes are actually quite sophisticated and beautiful." "Yeah, whatever." She could stop saying shit like that now. "She's right," Alice agreed, "And trust me, Bella, I know beautiful." It wasn't until I was in the solace of Edward's room that I was comfortable again, and it was with that comfort that I was sitting on his couch with him beside me. It was incredibly new to me because every single cell in my body was directing me to fuck him. The only things that kept my hands off of him were how incredibly nervous he looked and the fact that he hadn't touched me.

It was ridiculous. I could be riding him right now, but no, I was stone-motherfucking sober, sitting next to him with no part of my body touching his. Fucked up. When Edward took a deep breath, I focused on his entirely too-beautiful face. I could feel his hand on my cheek, brushing my hair back before it was actually there. "Y-you're sssso b-beautiful, B-Bella." And suddenly, I was very far from Edward's room. It was dusk and my room was hot, too hot after baking in the Arizona sun all day. Although Arizona was a dry heat, it was humid in my room. It was stuffy and uncomfortable. He was touching my face and it was almost painful. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I didn't want him to touch me because the very nearness of him caused my blood to grow icy. So it was hot in my room but so incredibly cold within my body. Shivers involuntarily assaulted me and I swallowed hard against the fear this man created by simply touching my cheek the way he was. His seemingly tender action would only shift into its polar opposite soon. It confused me and I had no idea if I was supposed to feel comfort from him or if I should anticipate the moment when he would change. Because it was going to come. When he spoke, it was like millions of fire ants crawling up my back. I hated his voice. I hated the feel of his breath across my skin. I wanted to move, I wanted jump off of my bed and run for the door. I wanted to hide in the closet or under the bed, even though I knew that I was too big and that he would find me. I wanted to run out the front door and never come back. I wanted to run all the way to Washington. I wanted to make him stop touching me like that, but I couldn't move, because, as usual, my body had shut down and it was all I could do to keep my heart beating and my lungs breathing. So I was trapped inside my body as I waited for him to do what he always did. But I so desperately wanted him to stop touching my face. "Mmm. You are so beautiful. Did you know that, Bella? Do you know how simply beautiful you are?" I shook my head, my mouth unwilling to move to talk even if I had the voice to speak. "Smile for me, Bella. There's nothing to be sad about." I smiled like he told me to, but it wasn't real. I didn't even remember what a real smile felt like. His thumb rubbed over my lower lip and my eyes slipped away until I found the crack in the dry-wall. A small spider had set up shop there, its webbing covering the corner. "There, that's better." Both of his incredibly large hands cupped my face. Two thumbs stroking my lips. "Now open your mouth a little." "Please," I finally whispered, not knowing exactly where the courage to speak had come from, "I don't

want to." He shifted my face so that I couldn't look at the happy little spider hidden away in its little crack. My eyes had to focus on his mouth. "Don't make me tell your mother how bad you've been, Bella. You know she doesn't like it when she finds out exactly how bad you really are." My body tensed and I held my breath. "But it" my words stopped as his hands found my hair, his fingers tightening. I blinked rapidly, my hand immediately moving up to bat Edward's hand away from my face. "Stop fucking touching my face, Edward." He moved forward, sitting up straight when I did, looking panicked and scared. "I-I'm sssssssorry." I felt so sick. I didn't want him to look like that. I didn't want him to look at me like that, but I couldn't stop it. My stomach churned and clenched. All of my muscles ached and I realized how tightly coiled they all were. With every ounce of energy I had, I launched myself off of his bed and flung open the door. It was quite tricky because Edward always locked his door. Across the hall, I found the bathroom and emptied the dinner I'd just eaten into the toilet. Even after my stomach was empty, I kept heaving When it finally stopped, I rinsed my mouth with water, then swished several times with the mouthwash I'd found on the counter. The burn of the acid felt good against the raw portions of my tongue and cheeks. Then for whatever reason, I opened up the medicine cabinet and found the fucking Mecca of prescription drugs. There were shitloads of brown fucking bottles packed into this tiny little cabinet. I searched through them until I found some with names I knew. Then I played eeny- meeny-miney-moe for which one I would actually take. When I had the two large white pills in my hands, I downed one, not even needing water get that shit into my belly. The other one I crushed up with the handle of someone's green toothbrush and snorted that shit as quickly as I could. I pocketed a few more pills, not enough for anyone to notice they were missing, and then I sank down to the floor to wait for the numbness to kick in. It was going to kick in hard. I knew that. I wanted that. I fucking needed that. As he whispered to me in my ear to be quiet, I vaguely felt bad for breaking my promise to Edward. But I needed that man's voice to get the fuck out of my head because I didn't want to be quiet and I wanted to stop feeling his ghost fingers tickling my cheek and rubbing over my lips. ... I sat in Edward's car, staring at Charlie's house for far too long. Whatever the fuck I'd snorted hit me like a ton of bricks and all I wanted to do was sit still and become a tree. My body rooted itself to the expensive leather interior of Edward's Volvo. That shit had effectively taken away all thoughts of whatever it was that I didn't want to think about at the moment. But as I turned to look at him, knowing that he knew I was high now, the disappointment pushed

through that blissful numb. I was trying to be good for him but I wasn't good. I wished he'd just go away. Why couldn't he just figure me out and decide that I was too fucked up for him? I'd broken my promise and I knew that Edward would never break any promise he ever made. Especially not to me. He didn't hide from the bullshit, he saturated himself in it. He was so much stronger than I was. "I'm ssssssorry." "What?" I asked, my chest feeling heavier than it probably should have. "What are you sorry for?" Holy shit, his eyes made me want to cry and then I wondered if I'd actually be capable of crying. I'd stopped that shit a long time ago and I wondered if I had any tears left to shed. "I'm fucked up, Edward." I nodded slowly while I said it. "I'm fully aware of that. Are you?" "Am I-I-I fffffff" "Are you aware that I am fucked up?" Edward's eyes danced around my face until he nodded, looking ashamed at his admission. "Then you should be running and fucking screaming away from me." He shook his head. I took a deep breath. "So what are you sorry for?" I bit the inside of my cheek. "I upset y-you. I shhhhouldn't hhave t-t-t-t-t" If it was possible, I felt even shittier because someone like Edward was worried that he'd upset me because he'd touched my face. If only I'd been a normal girl! He deserved a normal girl. A girl who could let herself be touched. Who wanted to be touched. A girl who didn't think about fucked shit all the time. A girl who wasn't too fucking wrapped up in her own pain to give a shit about anyone else. He deserved more than me. He deserved better than me. "Edward," I said, trying to calm down so that he wouldn't get upset himself. I hated when he looked so lost and panicked. "I'm the fuck-up here, okay? You didn't do anything to cause me to" I licked my lips, not really wanting to talk anymore. "I have to go now." "W-w-w-why did you get hhhigh?" I wasn't about to tell him about the feel of that man's breath on my cheek. I wasn't going to talk to him about the way my skin crawled when I thought of that man with the short brown hair and the skull tattoo. "Will you come over tomorrow after I get off of work?" He nodded. "Good," I said softly before forcing my lethargic and sedated body to move, getting out of his car and shutting the door behind me. As much as I wanted to be with Edward, it was sometimes too much. He made me feel good and sometimes it was just too much. ...

Chapter 36: Spiders in the Corners B POV

Before I hopped out of Charlie's car in the parking lot of the Thriftway, feeling like a total schmoein the god-awful uniform and getting out of a police vehicle, I turned to him. "Edward's coming over tonight, so be nice, okay?" Charlie looked at me, eyeing me closely. "Sure, okay. Of course I'll be nice. I like the kid just fine." I just looked at him for a moment, wondering if he knew that by calling him names, it didn't convey the liking him 'just fine' part. "You call him a delinquent, Charlie." He sighed and looked away. "You don't have much of a sense of humor, do you?" "Say something funny and maybe I'll laugh." Again, Charlie sighed. "The kid had one parking ticket, not arrests or citations. I was being sarcastic." "Oh." I could have pointed out that had I known him better, I might have caught the sarcasm, but I left the conversation where it was. "Have fun today." "It's work, Charlie." "You can't have fun at work? It's a part-time job, Bells. Doesn't the Stanley girl work here?" Nodding, I already had my hand on the handle, eager to get out of the cramped car. "She's a cashier though. I stock." I pushed open the car door. "So you promise you'll be nice to him and won't try to intimidate him, right?" Charlie sighed, but wore a smile and drew a circle around his head with his index finger. I supposed it was meant to be a halo. "I promise." I'd only worked one other day and that was nothing but computer training and safety videos. My fat, balding manager who kept looking at my boobs assigned me to work with this guy named Riley. I really wish he hadn't, because Riley was fine, all blond hair and scruffy beard. He had to be in his early twenties and I had no idea how he got stuck in Forks stocking the dairy department of this crappy grocery store. So needless to say, I had to keep myself in check because I kept thinking about how fucking sexy he was and how easy it would have been to pull him into the dairy cooler and jump on top of him. Instead I stocked some shit, watching him out of the corner of my eye, and thought about Edward. It was because of Edward that I wasn't jumping on Riley-the-hottie-stock-boy. I wanted to be good for Edward, but I was growing incredibly frustrated at the lack of humping in my life. I'd taken to masturbating. A lot. And while the physical ache would lessen to some degree, I was not satisfied. "I can't use the baler," I said as Riley waited for me to shove the cardboard into the big machine. "It's fucking stupid. I don't think a few months will make a difference, but they seem to think that I shouldn't operate the baler or use a box knife until" He looked at me, his hazel eyes moving over my body. "You're not eighteen?" I shook my head, wishing like hell that I was. "Fuck," he said quietly. "That's too bad. You look like fun."

The only thing I could do was give him an embarrassed smile because he looked like fun too but he thought I was too young and I was somewhat attached to Edward in some weird, entirely too involved sort of way. So the fun wouldn't be happening. Which was really a shame because Riley's hands were sexy and I wanted to see what they looked like cupped over my tits. "Yeah, I used to be fun, but, um, I'm reformed." I shook my head and chuckled a little. "Or at least, I'm trying to be reformed." I glanced at his watch, which was upside down from my perspective, and I could see that we'd been working for a few hours. "Do you party, Riley?" He finished throwing all of my cardboard boxes into the large brown container, slammed the cage door closed and pushed the button, causing the whole back room to grow loud with noise. "I've been known to, Bella." "I have some bud. We could go burn one. I can get an apple from Produce and make a little pipe out of it." Riley smiled, swiveled his stocking cart around and came to stand next to me. Leaning down a little, he said, "You're bad girl, aren't you, Bella?" I bit my lip. I was trying to be good. "You should work harder on the reforming thing before you can claim to be reformed, yeah?" Like I needed this hot guy to tell me that I was a fuck-up at trying to be good. "So is that a no, Riley, or are you just?" "Maybe after work, but I need this job and I can't lose it because I went and smoked weed during my break." Fine. I didn't need him to get high with me. "Whatever, but I'm going, so I'll see you in fifteen." When I got back, Riley and I stocked the baking aisle. I was covered in flour and had I not been high, it would've pissed me off. We talked on and off about random things. He was a surfer, only stocking shelves to save money to move to California where he wanted to surf professionally. He rolled his eyes at me when I asked if there was such a thing as a professional surfer or if he'd really just be a waiter at some crappy restaurant who surfs on his off days. Jessica was working today as well and so I found myself in the break room with her at lunch. "Oh my God, you get to work with Riley. He's totally hot." "Yeah." "You are so lucky not to be a cashier and to be trained by Riley. I got trained by Martha, the lifer." "Lifer?" Jessica laughed and took a bite of her sandwich. "Yeah, the people here that you can just tell will work in this store for the rest of their lives." "Why didn't you go work at Newton's?" I knew that despite sometimes saying nasty things behind his back, Jessica really liked Mike. I didn't understand the draw, but to each her own I suppose.

"Mike would've thought it was an open invitation to touch my ass all day." "I thought you liked him touching you." "Eh," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. The rest of work was stupid and boring and I was completely overly excited to get back to Charlie's. I took a quick shower and did some food prep before Edward came over. I'd taken another one of those pills that I lifted from Edward's medicine cabinet. I really just wanted pot, but it was freezing outside and Charlie would have thought it was weird if I had just decided to go for a walk in the twenty degree weather. The meds kicked in right before Edward knocked on the door. It was a good thing, actually, because the second I saw Edward, the night before came crashing in around me. Edward had touched my face and I had flipped the fuck out. I could see the ramifications in his eyes. They seemed to gut me with their intensity. I couldn't just stand there with the door open, staring at him all night, so I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside without verbally greeting him. His fingers were cold and his free hand pulled off the stocking cap that had been covering his wild and rusty hair. Dear god, he was beautiful. His body was tense and I looked around, only to find Charlie standing there just looking at him. I narrowed my eyes, figuring that even if he wasn't meaning to, he was intimidating the fuck out of Edward. I huffed and then heard Edward try to push out a hello to Charlie. It was painful to listen to and I could only imagine what it felt like for Edward. As I told him before, his stuttering didn't define him, but it certainly wasn't comfortable to listen to him stumble over such simple words as 'hello, Chief Swan.' Charlie's eyes were focused on where my hand was still connected to Edward's and I immediately felt self-conscious and dropped his hand. I mumbled a "let's go," and moved towards the stairs, fully intending on enjoying Edward's company in my room with less of Charlie's eyes to make me feel weird. "Make sure you keep your door open," Charlie said and I shook my head as I led Edward up to my bedroom. Charlie wanted to be a parent now. I supposed he'd heard that shit on TV one time and thought that was what he needed to say in order to be a good father. Once inside my room, I closed and locked the door. "B-b-but your d-d-d, f-fffather said" "It's my room, Edward," I said, cutting him off a bit more sharply than I meant to. I always shut and locked my door and I would continue doing so whether or not I had Edward in my bedroom. I contemplated shoving my computer chair under the knob like usual, but thought Edward might think it was strange. He sat down in the rocking chair like last time, and I sat down on my bed. There was entirely too much physical distance between us and I wondered if he'd panic if I asked him to sit on the bed with me. Then if he did panic, I could run my hands through his hair like I knew he liked and breathe in his orange earth scent. I subtly pressed my thighs together. It had been too long since I'd had sex to start thinking about Edward's sex hair and his fuck-me smell.

"Hhhhhow w-was w-work?" I smiled at him, I ran my hands through my hair, wishing it was his. "It was good." "D-do you lllliiiike it?" "Yeah, it's alright." Although I didn't really want to talk about working at the grocery store, I also didn't know what else to talk about. "I put shit on shelves." I felt tense as I warred within myself. I enjoyed Edward far more than was safe. I wanted to put my hands all over him and fucking feel him, but I also wanted to do all of the things I had never allowed myself to do before. I wanted to kiss him. Not just like kiss him because he was sexy as fuck and I wanted to do a laundry list of things to him, but because he was sweet and smelled good and was quite possibly the only person in the world worth spending time with. It wasn't that I'd never kissed before because I'd kissed too many people too many times, but it all led to fucking and I hadn't actually ever wanted to just kiss someone. I wanted Edward in every way, that was true, but there was a part of me that wanted to know him in the most innocent ways. I wanted to kiss him to know what the inside of his mouth felt like and whether the energy that flowed between was heightened when it was our tongues touching and not just our hands. Kissing Jacob or Tyler or James or whoeverthefuck was different. With them it was a lead-up to fucking, to feeling good, to having some kind of physical release to mask my mental chaos. But with Edward, my physical need for him was overshadowed by my emotional need for him. And I wasn't sure how much I liked that. I feared it. Because I knew that it was this attachment to him that made me feel things I didn't want to feel. I didn't want to remember things, but Edward had a way of pulling them out of me and quietly pushing me to the point of breaking. I knew it was stupid for me to like him as much as I did. It broke almost all of the carefully-constructed rules I had placed upon myself a long time ago. It invalidated my entire mission in life which was to just slide through the cracks unnoticed. He knew shit he shouldn't fucking know about me, and I was the idiot who handed it to him. But I couldn't say no to the way my entire being ached for him. I'd known people on heroin, or at least been around them, and the fucking aching need they had for that shit was what I felt for Edward. I fucking needed him in uncontrollable ways. He was like my own personal brand of heroin. He was like me, wounded and scared. We were two little lambs lost from the herd. I needed him in ways that I probably shouldn't. I was overcome by the need to suck his lower lip into my mouth and test its fleshiness. "Can I kiss you?" I asked before I was even aware I opened my mouth, but I couldn't help myself. "Please?" His breath caught for a moment before his eyes moved to the door. Was he scared of me? Should I not

have asked that? Was he scared of Charlie? "He's not going to come in," I assured him. Charlie never came into my room. "And I just want to kiss you," I admitted quietly. "It's" I paused and said the next word a little too breathily, "innocent." I sat perched on the edge of my bed, just waiting for him to give me some kind of answer. If it was a yes, I'd fly to him, but if he said no, I didn't know what I would do. It would be uncharted territory since I'd never asked a guy if I could kiss him before and had him say no to me. Then I wondered if he was panicking right now and just disguising it really well, so I stood up and started for him. His breathing increased. When I was near enough, I gave in and threaded my fingers through his hair, my eyes slipping closed as the silky perfection tickled my skin. "You have to answer, Edward," I whispered. "Otherwise I'm going to assume that the answer is yes." He nodded. "Is that yes, I can kiss you or yes, you'll answer?" I was pushing him and I knew it, but he relied on head nods and shakes far too much and I enjoyed his voice, regardless of his stutter. "Y-yesssssssssssssss," he dragged out the word, his voice shaking. I forgot about the fact that I was pushing for a reason because once I heard his voice and actually let myself look at his eyes, I knew he was saying that I could kiss him, but he was sitting and I was standing and any way it went down, it would be awkward. So I took awkward and ran with it. I sat down on his lap, my body angled away from his, my hand never leaving his hair. He was freaking out. I could tell by his rapid breathing. I felt a crazy amount of tension in my body as well. I'd kissed him before. Three times in fact, although that first time shouldn't count. I leaned in and breathed deeply, savoring him before I would taste him again. My lips brushed his lightly at first and I couldn't help the involuntary shiver. His lips moved against mine and I found my bottom lip between his. Opening my mouth a little wider, I slipped my tongue out and traced the bottom of his top lip until he took in a deep gasp of air. That was all the opportunity I needed to push my tongue into his mouth, trailing it along his tongue. I knew that the energy would be there and instead of the crackle of electricity, I felt the heat sing a sweet song between us. It clouded my mind, making it hum with intensity. The hum swiftly transformed into a pulsating drum and the beat of it spurred me to want more of him. I shifted until I was basically straddling him. He smelled so good and tasted like a fucking orange cupcake. And then both of my hands were running through his hair and I pressed myself closer to him as if his body could just open up and swallow me whole. I needed his warmth. He grew hard beneath me and the thought played in my head that he was probably a quiet fuck and Charlie would never know. I could be a silent rider. I would be careful with him. I wouldn't make him scream or shout. Moan, maybe, but I would be good and keep his mouth busy. But his dick wasn't the only thing that stiffened. I became aware that his whole body had gone rigid. Edward's hands had made it to my hips and they tightened. It felt fucking wonderful. His hands were strong and that made me want him all the more.

But before we went any further, his hands stilled my writhing hips and he pulled away, moving his neck until his lips were no longer accessible to mine. "What?" I asked in between pants of breath. "W-w-w-w-we sssssshould sssstop, B-Bella." No, I was pretty sure we should continue and progress. "Why?" Couldn't he see that I wanted him? Couldn't he feel that I needed him? "B-b-bec-c-cause yyyyyyyour f-f-f-f-faaa" My hands that had grown still immediately moved to soothe him. As I rubbed his scalp with the tips of my fingers, his eyes closed and I sighed, my brain finally working. I was still very aware that his hard-on was pressing up against the places that I wanted it to, but I forced myself not to rock on top of him. He was upset and I had been the one to make him upset. "Charlie's downstairs." Shit. That wasn't what I wanted to say. I didn't want to make him feel like I was pushing him on this but I really wanted to fuck him and my mouth was speaking automatically. "He won't know, Edward." "B-b-b-but I-I-I c-c-can't." I tried to lean back into him to start kissing him again, even though the logical side of me told me that it wasn't going to happen. "But I want you," I whined when he stopped me from pressing myself against him again. "And I know you want me too." "I-I d-d-do, B-B-Bella." He sounded out of breath and I knew that I needed to get off of him so he could be comfortable, but the pouty little girl in me wanted to stomp my feet and hold my breath until I turned blue and he gave in to me. He could fuck Jessica Stanley but could barely kiss me. I moved off of him quickly, ready to be done with the entire confusing thing. "Are you staying for dinner?" He didn't answer as I moved to the door. I had my hand on the doorknob. "D-d-don't b-b-be mmmmad, B-Bella." "I'm not mad," I answered him after a moment. And I wasn't. I was incredibly disappointed and felt foolish, but I wasn't angry at him. "Are you staying for dinner?" I asked again and watched as he took the easy way out and nodded his answer. "I worked all day, so it's not going to be awesome or anything." ... Mike was incredibly annoying. He was singing at the lunch table about his dick in a box and I wondered, not for the first time, why the hell I sat at this table. Yeah, Angela sat here and so did Jessica, but I could take or leave Jessica and I was about to leave Angela on her own. Before I could grab my bag, someone asked Mike a question, to which his reply was, "I'll be doing a lot better once my balls are resting on Isabella's chin."

There were a few 'oh's' and a couple of stifled giggles. I turned to look at him, and he had one eyebrow raised as his disgusting tongue licked his disgusting lips. I wanted to tell him exactly how much that would never happen, but since he wanted to play public games of sexual harassment, I smiled at him "Why would they" I pretended that I had no idea what he was talking about. "Oh, you want my mouth wrapped around" I took the faux-shocked look off my face and steeled it. "Actually, Mike, I have a six inch minimum." I glanced to Jessica and then back to him. "And from what I hear, you're about four inches off the mark. Sorry." Everyone snickered at that, even Lauren, who was usually too big of a bitch to even smile. The smirk was completely wiped from his face and was replaced with anger. "Well, I guess I forgot that I had to be a fucking thug or a retard to get time with you, soconsider me not interested." I ignored his hateful names, knowing that they were directed at Jacob and Edward. "Thank god for small favors." Mike's smile reappeared. "One day you'll beg me, Isabella." "I thought you weren't interested," I countered. "What would I beg you for, Mike? To do the world a favor and slit your fucking wrists? To finally get that nipple rot checked out by a doctor?" His face reddened and his jaw tensed. I didn't wait for him to say something even more dickish. I mumbled a goodbye to Angela and then headed out to the woods early to meet Jacob. If ever there was a time I needed to burn, it was in this moment when I could've killed that stupid motherfucker. ... It was at the Friday Night Fuck-Up Club that I broached the topic of Lauren's party with Edward. The night had been fairly uneventful, aside from Dr. Hale pissing me off in my individual session and trying not to listen as Seth Clearwater told everyone in group about how much he missed his dad. "Did you hear that Lauren's throwing a party tomorrow?" I asked after he had set his iPod down on the dock and made music flow from it. Edward's brow creased and he shook his head as he moved to sit next to me on the couch. My body tingled from his nearness. I knew that whether he'd heard about it or not, he wouldn't want to go. But I did. Jacob had already shown me his party favors, which included some really amazing B.C. bud that got me so fucking high from just a few hits off his water bong. But I wanted Edward to go with me. He could use some fun and I wanted to be with him. "Will you go with me?" He shook his head and I frowned. I hated that shit. I wanted him to use his voice. "Why not?" "B-B-B-Bella," he said softly, as if the answer should've been so clear to me. And it was. He had anxiety issues and wasn't comfortable around large or small groups of people, but I wanted him to go with me. "Th-there's t-too many p-people, B-Bella."

"But you could keep me out of trouble." "I w-would llllove t-to go, b-but I c-can't." I pouted, sticking out my lower lip a little. "You c-could ssstay w-with me." Dammit! I didn't want to stay in, but I wanted to be with Edward as much as possible. But Jake was bringing the fucking Chronic. That shit tasted like blueberries - fucking blueberries! It didn't come around that often and he was just going to smoke people out with it. "I want to go to the party," I whined quietly. "Please come with me." Edward looked down and shook his head as he squeezed my hand which he'd been holding since he sat down. "P-please stay w-with me." I stood up, slipping my hand out from his, and moved to study his books. He needed some new ones. I'd already memorized each and every title on his shelf. I tried to focus on the spines of the books again, my hand moving up to touch the worn spots of a few. It was impossible to focus on anything other than Edward as he got up and came closer to me again. No matter where I went, he seemed to follow. Except to Lauren's party. His very presence next to me set my body alight, but it wasn't just a physical response to his nearness; it was a warming in my mind, a softening of my thoughts. It was beautiful and real and terrifying all at once and I felt like my head was not attached to my body as thoughts swam through my brain. Edward's earth and oranges swept over me in waves just as the heat of his body crashed upon me like water on rock. It was insanely erotic and intense and he wasn't even touching me. His eyes were locked on mine and the rapid rise and fall of his chest mirrored my own. My whole body ached for him and yet I didn't know how to get him. I felt vulnerable and weak. I was powerless to the need for him. I hated that feeling. I moved away again, this time to study the strings of his guitar and hoped that he'd grant me the safety of this physical distance. "Well, maybe we'll hang out on Sunday then." I was telling him that I wasn't going to stay in with him. I was going to the party. Feeling fingertips at the small of my back, I turned, facing Edward, but I couldn't bring myself to lock eyes with him, so I stared at his mouth. He licked his lower lip and again I was struck with the urge to suck on it for him. I moved to do just that, but Edward's arms stopped me from plastering myself onto him. "Ssstay with me." ...

The music was loud and obnoxious, but I was feeling no pain since I'd smoked out with Jacob to the point of not being able to get any higher, but even though I felt safer sticking by Jacob, I couldn't just sit there while he smoked out more people. There was just no way I was going to turn down bong hits of that shit and I really didn't need more of it. It wasn't any better leaving the cramped little room because being as high as I was, I drank whatever alcohol Jessica put into my hands. I hated alcohol. But I kept drinking. I wished Edward had come with me. I completely understood why he wasn't able to, but I couldn't help but miss the fuck out of him. I kept drinking until I felt sick. This alcohol was going to fuck with my blood sugar. I tried to find my way to the bathroom, but I couldn't find it. I felt sick, my head swishing this way and that. I felt myself leaning against the wall as I kept propelling myself forward. I took a deep breath and then it felt like I was sleeping. When I awoke, I was moving. Not much, just up and down. When I opened my eyes, I realized that I wasn't moving up and down, I was moving back and forth. I was heavy, something weighing me down. I felt a warm, moist air against my cheek. My hands moved up to my chest and I pressed the weight away, but it wouldn't budge. It moved back and forth with me. I blinked, my brain clogged and sluggish. The weight on top of me moaned low and deep. Fuck. I was fucking someone. No, someone was fucking me. I felt sick again. The weight was a body. I looked down to where the body's hips were between my parted thighs and then my eyes traveled up the shirted torso. And then I saw that I was fucking Mike Newton. I closed my eyes, knowing that I should've tried to pushed him off of me, but my body wouldn't respond to my brain. He would be done soon. I turned my head and tried to focus on breathing. My eyes opened again and I was staring at the corner of the wall next to the toilet. There were cobwebs, but no spider. I wondered if the spider was out spinning more webs or if it was stalking its food. Maybe it had left

that web for a new home. Maybe it was dead. The cobweb looked old, sort of frayed. One of Lauren's blonde hairs lay across it. She needed to clean. Her bathroom was clean-ish, but it had a cobweb and hair and I was sure if I really looked, there'd be soap scum in the tub that everyone in the house just ignored and eventually grew to not even see. "Fuck me." I let out a breath and involuntarily turned my head to look at Mike. I swallowed hard. Thankful that he was almost done, I stared at him blankly. His face contorted and his hips thrust at me in an irregular, quick rhythm. When he pulled out, I rose up onto my elbows, scooted to a semi-sitting position and pressed my legs together. I watched as he pulled the condom off and threw it in the trash. He stood over me, pulling up his boxers and jeans. Bile rose up in my throat. "I told you," he said, leaning down and licking my top lip. My body had no choice but to move into action. I scrambled to the toilet, lifting the lid just as the bile overflowed. As I emptied my stomach, I felt my hair being pulled back. I could feel his breath on my neck as one of his hands rested on my shoulder. I wanted his fucking hands off of me. When my body stopped heaving, I pushed at him as I stood up. I wished I knew what the fuck had just happened because I was pretty sure Mike's dick had just been inside of me. I felt sick again, so as I rinsed out my mouth, I splashed water on my face. What the fuck just happened? I froze again when I felt him come up behind me, pressing against me, his hands on my hips as if we were lovers. I spun quickly and pushed him back. "Quit fucking touching me." I shrugged on my pants and pulled down my shirt and left the bathroom quickly, trying to ignore the fact that I was sharing space with him and found Jacob. "Will you take me home?" He was looking up at me from his spot on the floor. The stoned smile faded and he stood up. "Are you okay?" I shifted my feet. I really, really just wanted to go home. I shook my head. "Can we go?" We left after Jacob collected his bong and lighter and I smoked out of his one hitter on the way home. The ride was silent and he kept looking at me and I kept ignoring it. It was when we pulled up to my house that he finally said something. "What happened, Bells?"

"Nothing," I said quietly, not looking at him. "Thanks for the smoke and the ride home, Jake." "I looked for you for a while, but I couldn't find you. Where were you?" I shook my head and wished that he had found me. "I don't know." "No?" I sighed and let my head fall back. "I must have passed out in the bathroom." "Yeah?" "I fucking hate alcohol." "So why'd you drink it?" I shook my head, pulling my hair back. "I don't know." I unbuckled my seatbelt. "See you Monday." I got out of the car and snuck around back of the house. My body was heavy and slow as I climbed up the tree that was next to my window. Charlie had never given me a curfew, but I had snuck out anyway without even asking if he minded if I went to the party. He might have said yes, but I hadn't even explored that option. My room was dark as I pressed the window open and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I should have left a light on for myself. I crawled through and as soon as I stood up I froze, because the computer chair I had use to barricade the door lay in pieces and the door was open, the light of the hallway illuminating my room slightly. There was a creak to my left and a figure rose out of the rocking chair. "I knocked several times." Charlie's voice was low and I couldn't breathe. "I was worried and I" The floorboards creaked as he moved towards me. I followed my first instinct to go back out of the window, but as I turned, his hand caught my arm. My body went limp and I couldn't hear anything and I couldn't feel anything. My vision was beautifully blurred as a low buzz rang in my ears. My body wouldn't move, but I knew I was moving. I had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like forever. When I could move and focus my eyes again, I looked around and found myself inside Dr. Cullen's home office. My legs were drawn up tightly to my chest and my arms were securely wrapped around them as I sat in the overstuffed chair. My breathing was normal but it felt as though my blood was pounding in my ears. "Dr. Cullen gave you some insulin. You'll need to tell me if it's too much or not enough." I jumped at the voice and my eyes were drawn to Dr. Hale. I felt completely out of sorts. I had no idea how I had gotten in this room. The last thing I actively remembered was trying to get out the window because someone was in my room. "Your blood sugar was elevated quite a bit and your blood alcohol level was incredibly high. Were you drinking last night?" I glanced at the clock and saw that it was half past four in the morning. My mind was dusty and filled with fluff and I didn't want to clean or clear it. I was happier when it was soft and fuzzy. I didn't want to remember the details.

But Dr. Hale had already said that they knew my blood alcohol was high, so I couldn't really lie about it. "Yes." "Your father's very frightened." I let out a deep breath and turned my head, laying it on my knees as I hugged my legs tighter. My father was the one in my room. He'd broken through my computer chair and had been waiting for me. My lungs seized. "He thinks he did something wrong." Well, he did. He shouldn't have been in my room. "Good." "Good?" "It's my room." "It's his house. You snuck out to drink and when you came back" "He was there," I whispered. "You do know that he wasn't there to hurt you, right? It's his job to protect you and that means having rules. He was concerned when you didn't come to the door. He found your room empty, Bella. Do you know what it's like to worry like that?" "Can I go see Edward?" I didn't want to be here in this room with her. I felt like shit and I wanted to see Edward. "Of course you may, but not right now." "Why not?" "Because we need to talk." My body rocked slowly from side to side as I thought about all of the shit she'd want to talk about. I didn't want to tell her about Lauren's dirty bathroom and fucking Mike Newton. "I don't want to talk, I'm tired." "Bella," she said my name slowly and I raised my head to look at her. "Who was waiting for you in your bedroom back in Phoenix?" My brow stitched together as my breathing increased and my empty stomach tightened. "Shut up," was all I could grind out. I wasn't going to talk to her about this shit. Definitely not right now of all times! The day had been a disaster as it was, and I was not going to talk about the man with the fucking skull tattoo. "Bella?" I felt like I was going to pass out as my chest rose and fell too quickly. Before I even knew I was going to speak, I was saying, "He shouldn't have been there." Dr. Hale was quiet and I wished I could have forced my mouth shut, to have just remained silent, but the shit was spilled and I couldn't stuff it back into the tiny little box right now. "I got up to go to the bathroom. When I got back, he was" I fought hard with the urge to run and to vomit again.

"How old were you?" "Eleven," I whispered, more to myself than to her. "What was his name?" I bit the inside of my cheek hard as the anger inside bubbled and boiled and ate at me. "What the fuck does it matter what his fucking name was?" "What did he look like?" "Like a fucking guy," I answered shortly. She didn't need to know how short his brown hair was or where he had a skull tattoo or how his teeth were unnaturally white. "Like every fucking guy on the goddamn planet." "Okay," Dr. Hale said softly. "Was he your mother's boyfriend?" I sank back further in the chair and whispered, "Yes." "What did he do when you came back from the bathroom, Bella?" My lips pressed together as my eyes watered. I wasn't going to fucking cry because I had no tears left. Or so I thought. I couldn't help it as they spilled over, leaving wet trails down my cheeks. "I want to see Edward." "You can see him in a little bit, but right now we need to stick with this, Bella. What did he do when you came back from the bathroom?" she repeated. I turned my head away again and closed my eyes. It was going to come out, I felt it, I knew it, but I didn't want it to. I didn't want to hear myself say this shit. I didn't want to hear the words hang in the air. I didn't want to see her face after she knew. "He justdid it. There was no warm-up to the action. He just held me down and broke me open, and he knew it was going to hurt because he covered my mouth with his hand long before he" I couldn't believe that these things were being given life after so long and that I was the one doing it. These thoughts, the words I was using, had been dead for so long, just like the tears that were just flowing from me like a river. "I knew about sex. With a mother like Renee, of course I did, but I had no idea it would hurt so much," I whispered. "I was small and he was" I paused, swallowing against the rising bile as I thought of that night and the pain that had come. "He was so big." "What else do you remember, Bella?" I wanted to go to Edward's room and feel comfortable again. I wanted to look at his books and touch the spines. I wanted to hold that rock that I had replaced on his shelf a few days ago. I wanted to see him. "Can I go to Edward's room now?" "In a minute, but you need to tell me what you remember." Fine. If that was the condition, I could meet it. "It wasviolent. There was blood. I felt like I waslike Iand I tried to scream because it fucking hurt but he wouldn't let me. I had to be quiet because my mother was sleeping." I felt so sick. I wanted to not exist. I wanted someone else's life.

"How long did your mother see this man?" I knew this was her roundabout way of asking me how long he'd fucked me. "I don't know. Does it matter?" "Yes." "Well, how the fuck should I know? I was a fucking kid, and days were like years then." Well, that was a lie. I knew exactly how long he was in my life. "I want to go see Edward now." "In a minute, Bella," she said again, sounding as if she was calming a hyper child. "Will you sit back down for a minute because we need to stick with this?" I hadn't realized that I had stood up at some point. I was beginning to feel numb. Thankfully, the body was nothing more than one big chemical factory, so I was currently experiencing the post-fear and freak-out rush. My body complied and when I sat down, I whispered again, "He shouldn't have been there." "No, he shouldn't have, but in regards to your father, you understand that he had no way of knowing that his presence in your room would be a trigger for you. You know that he wasn't in your room to hurt you, right?" I knew that Charlie posed little threat to me. For as much as I wanted to hate Charlie, he wasn't the one who made me like this. When I nodded, she asked another question, making me wish again that I was somewhere else. "How long did he hurt you?" Whether she was asking about that first time or how long he was in my life, the answer was the same, "Too long." "Do you remember" she said, but I covered my ears with my hands unwilling to listen to her finish her questions. I didn't want to remember any of it. I rocked back and forth, squeezing my eyes shut as I tried to block out the shit that was crashing down around me. I could hear his voice and smell the metallic, sweet smell of my own blood. I could taste his hand and feel the fiery bolts of pain as it shot through my scared little body. My whole body convulsed and I wished that I was dead. ...

Chapter 37: From Where It Once Was Forgotten E POV I awoke to the loud knocking with a groan. My head hurt as usual and I wanted to tell Emmett to stop,

but then I realized that it was Sunday. I glanced at my clock and realized that it was incredibly early on Sunday. Why was someone knocking on my door so early on a Sunday? Not even Emmett would get up this early on the weekend. I slipped out of bed and grabbed my t-shirt, pulling it over my head. When I unlocked and opened my door, I was extremely surprised to find Bella standing out there, arm raised to knock again. The smile that automatically came to my face at the sight of her faded quickly as I took her in. She looked strange. I glanced down the hallway and saw Esme standing at the end of it, her eyes steadfast and fixed on Bella's form. "W-w-w" was all I could get out. Bella had wrapped her arms around her mid-section, her shoulders hunched over. Instinctively I reached out for her hand, wanting to draw her to me, but she stepped back just slightly. I was confused. She was here, in my house, at my door before six in the morning, looking like she had the longest day known to man and she wouldn't let me touch her. Then I remembered that she had gone to Lauren's party. Her normal sweet smell was still over-shadowed by the smell of cigarettes and alcohol. Had she come here straight from the party? "B-B-Bella?" Her eyes danced around me for a moment, never actually fixing on mine. One finger of her right hand extended and pointed behind me and I recognized that she was asking to come in. I stepped to the side and as she passed me. I glanced back out to the hall, but Esme was gone. I turned around and found Bella looking at my books as her hand moved out to reclaim the green rock she had just brought back a day or so ago. I didn't know why she'd taken it or why she liked it. I had just looked on the shelf one day and it was gone, then she'd pulled it out of her pocket Friday night and replaced it on the shelf. Her hand fisted tightly around it. She brought her closed hand against her thigh pressed it there. "W-w-what's w-w-wrong, B-B-Bella?" Bella hesitated before turning around. Her eyes were glued to the carpet. I wished that she'd just look at me. Maybe I could make her sadness go away. She quickly rambled off a long string of words, but I could only catch Newton and Charlie. I had a quick and fleeting fantasy about her father arresting Mike Newton for being, what Rosalie called an "epic asshole." I shook my head at her and when she still didn't look up, I asked, "W-w-what?" "I fucked Mike Newton." A knife plunged into my heart. She looked up at me, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. "W-w-w-what?"

She shook her head and ran a hand through her hair, wincing when it got stuck for a moment. "Or he fucked me or whatever and then Charlie was in my room and I" Perhaps it wasn't what I should have done, but I interrupted her, needing clarification. "W-w-what d-d-d-do you m-m-mm-mmmean, you f-f-f-f-f" I stopped when she shook her head. The action caused small crystalline tears to roll down her cheeks. I took a step forward but she took a step back and I stopped. She held out her hand, palm facing me. "Please stay there," she demanded softly. I planted my feet as I felt my chest tighten. Bella was acting completely different than usual. She was worried and nervous and quite on edge. And she'd just said that she'd had sex with Mike. I didn't want to believe that. I didn't want to know that. "W-w-w-what d-d-d-d" I tried repeating my question but couldn't get past the second word since my mind was preoccupied with all of the thoughts Mike Newton had put into my head for the past few weeks. "I don't fucking know, Edward. I was drinking and I blacked out or something." Her voice showed her agitation, just like the way her body kept fidgeting told me that something was really wrong. Bella was typically pretty calm and even when she should've been freaking out, she usually didn't show it. I was sure it was helped by whatever drugs she had available to her. But now she was fairly frantic. Her tears fell quickly; her face was nothing but a showcase of pain and shame. "And I'm fucking sorry. I don't know. I just knowI mean, who the fuck knows? Maybe I" "You w-w-were unc-c-c-conscious?" My mind was reeling from the information she was giving me. Not only did she indicate that she'd had sex with Mike Newton, the guy who had made it his special fun-time activity to pick on me since I moved to this town, but she was telling me that she'd drunk herself into unconsciousness before it happened. And if she was unconscious when they hadwhen they had sex, then "I don't remember. When II don't know how long I was out or whatever but all I know is that he was," she let the word hang for a moment as she looked down at her feet. The hand that was holding the rock squeezed tighter and I found myself worrying about whether she'd cut herself on it. "He wason me when I... But fuck, with me you never know. Who fucking knows what happened? I'm fucking sorry, Edward." I didn't really know what to do. I was trying really hard not to hyperventilate, but I was having a hard time getting my mind to do anything slowly. My thoughts came in a rush and were all over the place and I couldn't focus. How was it that I could handle Alice's bloody meltdowns but be on the verge of passing out from Bella's words? I felt like dirt because she was waiting for me to say something or do something, but my body was just as frozen as my throat always seemed to be. I had no way of comforting her when she was completely in need of it. I was completely inadequate because I couldn't get a handle on everything going on inside of me. But I had to focus or I risked getting lost in all of the thousands of thoughts that were swimming and pushing around in my brain. "A-a-are you o-o-o-okay?" It was all I could think to say.

Bella didn't respond. Instead she brought her arms up and wrapped them around her torso. One of her legs was moving, making her bounce just slightly. She sighed and looked away from me. "Sorry about waking you up," Bella said, her voice not as agitated as before but still holding an edge. I took a step towards her, but stopped as she began to move. She didn't move away, but her arms unwrapped around her waist and then up to protect her chest before covering her head and then moving back down to cross over her again. The leg that bounced, moved quicker and her breathing was entirely too fast. "B-B-Bella." I suddenly remembered something else she said. "W-w-what hhhhappened w-with your fffather?" My hope was that he'd caught her with drugs. I didn't want her to be in trouble, but I wanted her to stop and I was sure that Chief Swan could have made that happen. "He was" She stopped to breathe, "Nothing." My eyes narrowed and she looked up at me quickly. Bella began again. "He wasin my room and I didn't" She shook her head, clearly becoming agitated again. "I mean, it's my room. Mine. He shouldn't have" At her sharp intake of breath, I became aware that I was holding my breath, which was never a good thing and usually accompanied a panic attack. I focused on breathing. I felt my muscles stiffen and my heart race. "Edward, don't." I watched her, feeling powerless, as she shook her head, her eyes widening. "I'm fine, okay? Don'tdon't panic or anything. I'myou know, I'mfine." She moved to me, her free hand already extended. My eyes closed as she reached up and ran her fingers through my hair. I breathed deeply and thanked God for being able to breathe at all. My heart rate slowed and I swallowed hard. After a few moments, it was better. And now she was nearer to me. My hands moved out and encircled her fisted hand. "W-w-what hhhhappened?" Her body shook and I inched just a little closer. "He was in my room andand it justscared me." "B-b-but you're o-okay?" Bella sighed and her hands fell away from my hair. She protected her torso by wrapping her arms around herself again. "Yeah. I mean, apart from having fucked Newton." And the knife was back, twisting agonizingly slowly into my heart. She shook her head and stepped around me. "I'mI'll be right back." She moved over to the door, unlocked it and then disappeared across the hall and into the bathroom. If I had ever hated Newton before, the emotion paled in comparison to the hatred I felt for him now. She was gone a long time and I sat down on my bed, waiting for her. I figured that she would like to have some normalcy. I would sit on my bed and she would sit on the couch, the way we had that first

Friday night and every one after. When Bella had come back, her eyes were glazed and I wished that I had taken the pills out of the cabinet when I had thought about it Friday night. I would have to move them today. I never took the ones prescribed to me, but both Emmett and Alice took theirs religiously. It was obvious that she was high. Just moments ago, Bella hadn't wanted me to touch her or be close at all until my near panic attack, so it was a dead giveaway that she was under the influence of something when she crawled onto the bed and up to me. As she knelt there, her fingers picked at the sleeve of my t-shirt. She was breathing slowly and her eyes were so weary and distant. "You llllook t-tired." She shook her head. "You sssshould ssssleep, BBella. I w-w-won't" I was going to tell her that I wouldn't touch her, but the thought of touching her regardless of what she had been through just a few hours ago made my body tense and anxious. Maybe she shouldn't be in my bed. "Aliiiice w-w-w "No! I don't want to be with Alice. Can't you just stay with me?" She looked away. "I mean, just for a little bit? I didn't mean" I nodded quickly, wanting to assure her that I wouldn't just abandon her, but she needed to sleep and I wasn't sure if that would happen. "You sssshould ssleep." Her hands slid from the sleeve covering my bicep down to my hand. I was really upset at myself that she was in this state. It didn't sound like she was happy that she'd had sex with Mike Newton, and she'd obviously been fairly frightened about her father in her room. "I-I'm sssorry that I d-didn't go, B-Bella." "Go where?" she asked, her voice dripping fatigue. "T-to the p-party." "Mmm. 's'okay." How could she think it was okay? If I had been there Mike might have punched me in the gut but he wouldn't have done that to her. "I-it's n-not o-o-okay, B-B-Bella. A-at b-best he t-took advantage of you. A-at w-w-worst, he r-r-r-rrraped you." My head pounded at the word, but I pushed the dull ache aside when she pulled away from me again. "Please don't be dramatic, Edward." While she tried to make her voice sound casual, I could hear the slight panic contained within it. "W-why are you b-being so c-calm about this?" I wanted to know, because apart from the drugs she took, she should have been much more upset than she was.

"Because I went to the party, Edward. I drank. I fucked up and who the fuck knows? Maybe I propositioned Newton. I can't fucking remember." "B-But w-why aren't you" Her eyes flashed for a moment, leveling me and driving out any thoughts. When she spoke, her voice was hard. "Because guys fuck me, Edward. It's" My jaw clenched and my fingers threaded tightly together. "I-It's w-what?" "It's what I'm for," she said in sigh. My heart nearly stopped, this time not from rising panic but because I was absolutely terrified she really believed it. "You c-c-can't b-believe that, B-Bella." I honestly hoped she didn't. That was a horrible thing to believe. She scrubbed her eyes roughly with the heels of her hands and I could see how tired she really was. "Whatever," she said and she moved as if she was going to get off the bed, but I gently stilled her by taking her hand again. She was not going to like what I was going to say. "Mm-m-maybe you sssshould sstop getting hhigh, Bella." Again, Bella's voice held an edge that I could just barely discern over her fatigue. "I wasn't high." I knew she was lying because she looked away from me at the precise moment she said 'wasn't.' "I had a couple of drinks, Edward." I wondered how many 'a couple' was to Bella. It didn't matter how many she had, Mike still shouldn't have done what he did to her, but Bella needed to take better care of herself so that pricks like Mike Newton couldn't hurt her like that. "W-why did you drink then?" Another sigh. "Because it was a party and it was there." Bella let her head rest against the outside of my shoulder for just a moment. After taking a deep inhale, she pulled away and smiled at me. I didn't know how she could do that. How could she smile now? How could we be talking about what I considered a sexual assault by Newton and over-using drugs and then she just pushed it to the side, compartmentalizing it and smiling as though we hadn't even opened our mouths about it? "Let's get coffee." My brow creased as I looked at her. "B-but you ssshould sssleep, B-Bella." Shaking her head, she moved off the bed and stood up, stretching. "No, I'm good." I tried to convince her, but I could tell that she was over it. We went to the kitchen where the coffee was already brewed and sat at the island. She picked at the toast I made for her and ignored Esme, who sat at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. Alice was shocked, but seemed delighted that Bella was here so early. After eating some cereal too,

Alice commandeered Bella and they disappeared upstairs. I turned to Esme and wondered what she knew about the situation. I was incredibly upset. If she had stepped in and stopped Bella from doing all of the drugs, then this wouldn't have happened. I knew that Esme wanted to get to the root of it all, but you couldn't just let someone flounder and drown in a sea of intoxication. I wondered if Esme knew the extent of Bella's drug use. Perhaps Esme thought Bella just smoked marijuana. I wanted to say something, to tell her that it was so much more than that, but if I did, it would be a betrayal of Bella's trust and I wanted nothing to do with hurting her like that. "It'll be addressed, Edward. Please stop looking at me like I'm Hitler." Alice kept Bella busy for most of the day and Esme left for a while, returning with clothes for Bella. She would stay the night with Alice. Bella and Esme were in Carlisle's study for nearly two hours before I was able to spend any time with her. I took the time away to do homework and play a little guitar, and more importantly, move the medication from our bathroom into the kitchen's vitamin drawer. When she was back with me, I just played guitar for her as she tried not to fall asleep on my couch until she finally got up to go to Alice's room. It was slightly past midnight when I heard a small tapping on my door. My body tensed momentarily before I pulled on a t-shirt and opened it, instantly smiling when I saw her. Then I saw she looked agitated again and so very, very tired. "Alice doesn't lock her door," she said quietly. I blinked and then moved to the side, allowing her access to my room. She came through, nervously tugging on one of her ear lobes. She was wearing incredibly baggy sweat pants that had a few well-worn holes in them and a black hoodie, zipped half-way up. Underneath was the Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt I'd seen before. I was going to close my door, but she stopped close to me and blocked me from doing so. Very slowly, as if she were barely moving, she leaned into me and pressed her face against my chest. If I hadn't felt the volt of hot electricity that passed between her body and mine, I would have thought this was a dream. Bella's shoulders came up as if she were shrugging before she rolled them back and exhaled. I breathed in, oddly soothed by the fact that she and I were breathing the same air. My hands moved to her arms. They started on her soft, rounded shoulders and slowly slid down her arms, over her elbows, coming to rest at her wrists. I would have grabbed her hands, but that would mean bending over slightly and I didn't want to risk the action pushing her away from me. I breathed her in several times more before she let out a ragged breath and moved away. As she pulled out of my loose hold, her hands slid over my palms, the knuckles of her fingers sending shivers through my body. Before her touch was completely lost to me, the smallest finger of her left hand hooked with the index finger of my right and gave it a gentle tug. I closed my door, making sure that it was locked as securely as it could be and then turned back to Bella. She was facing away from me. "I don't want to keep you from sleeping, you know, with school and shit tomorrow, butis it okay if I sleep in here?" Apart from my normal stutter, there was no hesitation. "Y-y-yes." "In your bed?" "Y-y-yes."

Her voice shook slightly. "Will you sleep with me?" My breath caught. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry at the thought of lying in my bed with her. I licked my lips and then pressed them together as I felt the crease in my brow deepen. She looked at me and tugged on my finger with hers. I nodded, knowing that I wouldn't be able to get out the three-letter word of acceptance. I watched as she crawled onto my bed, sitting up next to the pillows and drawing her legs up to her chest. She pushed just her toes underneath the covers and chewed on her the inside of her cheek as I hesitated. My body wouldn't move, no matter how hard I mentally kicked it. It was possibly a full minute before Bella asked, "Do you sleep standing up?" I shook my head at the absurdity of it. "I didn't think so." Her eyes moved to focus elsewhere. "I'll sleep on the couch, if you want." "N-n-no," I said, finally forcing my body to comply. I sat down on the bed and then swung my legs up. I was under the covers quickly, just watching her chew on her cheek. She made no move to lie down. "D-d-do you sssleep ssssitting up?" Bella turned towards me, her teeth finally releasing her cheek as she smiled. "No." I shook my head. "I d-didn't think sssso." She slid down next to me on her side, not touching me, her head pillowing on her bent arm. "You're funny, you know?" Again, the crease re-appeared on my brow and I shook my head. "No, you are. You're really witty. It's too bad more people don't know that about you." Again, all I could do was shake my head because it was definitely better more people didn't know that about me. I wasn't typically witty. It was an anomaly when I was with her. "I c-c-can't believe that you're ssstill up." "Yeah, well, I can be amazingly stubborn when I want to be and I learned a long time ago that humans don't need as much sleep as we think we do. The brain can take little thirty second naps to do what it needs to and technically you're sleeping and yet still awake." "W-why don't you w-want to sleep?" "It's not that I don't want to sleep, Edward. I just don't need to." She wasn't being truthful. "I don't like sssleeping b-because of my dreams," I offered. Bella closed her eyes and nodded. "Yeah," she whispered and then was silent. I had thought that she had fallen asleep, until I felt her body pressing against mine. It was hard not to react to the contact since she was like a zillion tiny beams of light that pierced and penetrated my flesh through the fabric of my shirt and even through my skin. Her hands were in my hair and she rose up onto her elbow, bending her neck so that her face with achingly close to mine.

Bella's soft lips brushed over my cheek as her fingers moved and threaded in my hair. The velvety flesh trailed down to my jaw and over to my lips and there was no way I could stop myself from kissing her back. Even though I couldn't get enough air and my heart was beating so fast that it felt like it was going to explode, I continued kissing her back because it felt so good. She was back to smelling like Bella again, and the scent calmed me, even if just a little bit. One of her hands moved to my chest, her palm flat against my sternum, fingers spread. The heat of it soaked through my body, warming my heart. The covers rustled and heat washed over me again, this time away from my heart and more towards my groin. She was laying on me, her face close to mine, lips moving and pressing into me as her hand never stopped running through my hair. As much as I wished that I was a normal teenage guy, I fought back the panic that bubbled up through my body and my mind. I tried very hard not to panic. I focused on my breathing but the feel of her on top of me shut my brain down to the point where all I could feel was her. After long moments without air, my hands moved to her hips and I had to stop them from moving like that, because it was becoming too much and there was only so much of my dysfunctional self that I wanted her to see. "B-B-B-B-Bella," I panted as my arms tensed with effort, "w-w-w-we sssshould sssstop." She buried her face in my neck and swept her tongue out across my neck. "B-B-Bella, sssstop." I felt like I squeezed her hips a little too tightly, but she pulled back, out of breath and staring at me with wondering eyes. She had just told me today that she thought her purpose was for men's pleasure; how could she be wondering why I didn't want to prove her right? How could she think I ever wanted to make her feel like that? How, after everything that happened on Saturday night, could she want to do this? Esme was right. Bella compartmentalized everything and folded it up as neat and small as she could and shoved it in her metaphorical back pocket until she forgot it was there. But the fact remained that I knew that Newton had no right doing what he did. No matter how drunk or high she was, not only was it immoral, but it was assault. Bella hadn't been in her right mind. He was wrong. He'd been talking all week about her in such a derogatory way, and I should've done something about it. I should have seen this coming. I should have gone to that party with her or tried harder to get her to stay with me. Bella bit her lip, her hands pressing into my chest as she lifted herself off of me. Kneeling next to me, she ran her hands down her face, stopping momentarily to dig the heels into her eyes. Then her hands were in her hair and her fingers curling and clenching in a way that should have been painful. Her jaw tightened and released, her eyes flashing all around the room. I felt like I couldn't breathe as I watched, fascinated and paralyzed. When her hands were finished pulling at her hair they laced together and tightened. "Sorry," she said, her voice so soft it nearly wasn't there. She shifted and swiveled, moving away from me and off of the bed.

I didn't want her to go. My hand extended and my finger caught one of hers. "D-d-don't." Her body straightened for a second and then curled in on itself. Her finger slipped through mine. "I'm going to go sleep on your couch, if that's cool. We have school tomorrow and I'm," she paused to swallow and shake her head, "tired." ... I drove Bella to school on Monday, while Alice and Emmett took his Jeep. Bella was quiet and so was I. While what happened last night desperately needed to be talked about, neither of us was willing to do that just yet. As she moved to get out of the car, I took her finger, wrapping mine around it. She stopped, but didn't turn back to me. I wanted to tell her not to get high, but I had a suspicion that she already was. I wanted to tell her that it would be okay, but I had no real idea that it would. No words formed in my head and so I let go of her finger and let her get out. I walked into the school on my own and went to my locker to arrange the books as I always did. I hoped that Bella was getting her books too and not out in the woods with Jacob. My body stiffened when I heard him. His laugh made me tense and when I heard him call me I thought perhaps I would break myself with the pressure. "Hey, C-C-Cullen!" I should have just walked away. I wanted to, but my body pivoted and I saw Mike across the hall with about four of his friends. He nodded to me, silently indicating he wanted me to come over to him. Like a fool, I did, because I would rather have his fist buried in my stomach than hear his voice. "Fucked your girl on Saturday. Did she tell you that?" He laughed as if he was actually humorous and his sycophantic friends laughed with him. "Funny thing, Cullen, she didn't say your name once when I pounded into her." Another laugh. My jaw clenched tighter as my chest seemed to grow smaller and my lungs closed and my heart felt like it could rip the paper skin of my chest as it thumped harder and louder than it had in a while. "And she was so fucking tight, C-C-Cullen, but you know what they say: the bigger the slut, the tighter the pussy." I didn't want to listen to him. I didn't want to hear his voice or the wicked cackle of his laugh as he stood before me with his friends feeling like a big man for having sex with an unconscious girl. I couldn't help but hate him. My body tensed, but instead of fear causing me to grow anxious and panicked, the intensity of my hate for this one person boiled over. My muscles coiled and my hands balled into fists. Then pain in my hand registered within my brain and I realized that I'd hit him, my fists connecting with his jaw. I was sure that there was a lot of noise around me, but everything I heard narrowed down to Mike's breaths and the blood thumping in my ears. My body took over as my mind decided it would just sit back and watch this moment happen. I found myself straddling Mike's chest as my hands kept flying down at his face. It was quite a surreal experience to watch my arms and hands inflict that sort of damage. There was a part of me that was

intensely satisfied with the amount of blood seeping from him, and as bad as my hands hurt, I felt that I could've continued to beat his face until he had no more blood to spill. The quiet that I had been experiencing shattered as noise and sound violently assaulted me. I felt arms and hands encircle me. I wanted to continue hitting Mike. I wanted to hit whoever was pulling me off of him for touching me. "I told you to punch him in the face, Edward, not kill him." I relaxed just slightly when I recognized Emmett's voice. "You'd better take him to the principal, and someone call an ambulance for Mike." I looked down to see Ms. Cope's small form crouched beside Newton as he cradled his bloody face in his hands. Ms. Cope had always been so nice to me; her eyes so kind but in his moment, her glare was hard and she looked at me like she looked at other students: without sympathy or pity. That was oddly satisfying. Most of what happened next was a blur. Mr. Voght, the principal, yelled at me. It too was satisfying. He said something about the school board and then left the room. Emmett spoke but my mind didn't hear him. My eyes watched his hands as it quickly pressed buttons on his phone, no doubt alerting Carlisle and everyone else about my status as Mike Newton's facial re-constructionist. Bella's father came in and let out a loud sigh when he saw me. I felt very calm, nearly all of the anger dormant again within me. Chief Swan asked me a few questions, but Emmett answered them when it was clear that I wasn't speaking at the moment. When the school nurse came in to look at my bloody, throbbing hands, I tucked them painfully under my arms, unwilling to let her touch or see them. Carlisle would set the broken bones and clean the cuts over my knuckles where the skin had given way to bone as it was being pounded against the bone of Mike's face. I felt more connected to Jasper than ever before. I now understood him in a way I never had. My explosive reaction had given away to a neutral state of mind. It was almost as if I hadn't done those things to Mike. I had simply watched the action unfold and was reviewing it like an episode of The Real World on the DVR. It was a while longer before Emmett was allowed to lead me out of the building and to his Jeep. I didn't worry about my car, but I about Bella. In under a half-hour, I was sitting in Carlisle's study facing my adopted father and Esme. I had no idea which hat she was wearing, concerned maternal figure or cold, analyzing psychiatrist. She wore the look of both on her face. Carlisle was openly studying me as a doctor would study a cancerous cell on a slide under a microscope. "What happened at school, Edward?" I couldn't help but sigh in frustration at her question. They knew what happened. Emmett had told them and I was sure that the principal had called and Carlisle was working today. He was probably there when they brought Mike in. I hated when they played dumb. "D-d-didn't the sc-school tell you?" Carlisle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You were fighting with the Newton boy. But what

were you fighting about?" "H-h-hhhhe's a d-dick." Although he cocked one eyebrow up, Carlisle's face remained clinical. "According to Emmett, he's been a dick to you since middle school, Edward. Esme is asking about what specifically happened today." "N-n-nothing h-happened t-t-today." Esme smiled and I didn't like it. "Edward, you don't fight. You don't even argue and now you're suspended for getting into a fist fight with someone you usually let intimidate you. Please let us know what's happening. What made you hit him?" My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth so hard. I didn't want to tell them anything because it wasn't their business and they were clearly ill-suited to help someone like me or Bella. But my mouth pushed out sounds that formed words. "H-hhhe f-f-f-f-fffffucked B-B-Bella at a p-party w-when sssshe was p-p-passed out." "Oh," was all Carlisle could contribute while Esme frowned. "Did she tell you that?" she finally asked. "Y-yes." "And you were defending her or protecting her today?" I said nothing. "Edward, what do you think or how do you feel about what Mike did?" "Hhhe's a r-r-rapist! And it m-m-mmmakes m-me m-mmad." "Did she say that he raped her?" "N-n-no, b-but no one c-can ggggive c-consent if they're n-not c-c-c-c-c, aw-wake." The room was quiet for a moment and then Carlisle took a deep breath. "You broke Mike's jaw, Edward." "G-ggggood." He looked up in shock, but I hardened my expression. Maybe Mike wouldn't be able to talk now. "You broke his nose." My jaw tensed. "I hadn't thought you capable of that." Neither had I. ... I was happy that I found her online after Carlisle and Esme let me go to my room. ECullen123: Are you there?

Imabell: What the fuck, Edward? Did you do that shit to Newton? I wished we weren't using a messaging system because I didn't know how to read that. Was she upset with me? I didn't know if I could handle her being upset with me for hitting him. ECullen123: Yes. Imabell: Why? ECullen123: You don't know? Imabell: Don't get in trouble because of me, Edward. That's fucked up. I'm not worth that shit. ECullen123: Yes, you are. Imabell: That's fucked. ECullen123: Fine, I hit him because he's an asshole, which in no way involves you, so my getting in trouble wasn't because of you. Is that better? Apparently I wasn't quite as over my agitation as I thought because I had no idea what her tone was and if she was upset with me, pushing me away, or being sincere. Imabell: No. ECullen123: Are you mad? Imabell: At you? No. Why would I be mad, Newton never looked so good. ECullen123: Funny. Come over tomorrow? Imabell: Charlie's being a parent. I'm "grounded." BTW, did you tell Dr. Cullen or Dr. Hale about me smoking pot? I had never told either of them, even if we'd had a hypothetical discussion about it. ECullen123: No. Imabell: All my shit's gone and I don't appreciate it. ECullen123: You don't have to get high all the time, Bella. Imabell: Whatever, Edward. So what's your punishment for fucking up Newton? ECullen123: It's not really a punishment. I have the rest of the week off of school. Imabell: I'll skip school tomorrow and take the bus to see you. ECullen123: Don't get in trouble for me, Bella. Imabell: I'll get in trouble for me then, Edward. Is that better? ECullen123: No. But I want you to come over anyway. Imabell: What time will everyone be gone over there?

ECullen123: Carlisle works at 10, so probably 9:30 Imabell: In case you did hit him because of me, thank you. I sighed. ECullen123: You're welcome. ...

Chapter 38: Of God and Lucifer E POV It was just a little after ten in the morning when Bella rang the doorbell. I didn't want her to get in trouble for skipping school or for breaking her father's grounding rules, but I was extremely happy that she was here. "Trick or treat," she said with a smile as I opened the door. I smiled back, having forgotten that it was Halloween. "H-h-hhhi." I pointed to the red pointy horns atop her head. "N-nice." I moved to the side and invited her in. "They sell them at work. Thought they were perfect for me, since I'm apparently corrupting you into school suspensions and bare-knuckle boxing." She moved through the door, bringing her lovely scent with her. Bella stopped short, her hands moving to mine. "Jesus, Edward." I figured that she wouldn't like what she saw. "They d-d-don't hhhurt." She moved a little and shut the door before taking my bandaged hands into hers. "That's bullshit. I know that hurts." "It w-was w-w-worth it." I was surprised but delighted when I found her pressing into me, her head burying itself in my chest as her hands curled and fisted in my shirt. My body had begun to work on pure instinct around Bella. My arms very naturally came to hold her, sliding around her small frame until she was as close to me as she could possibly get. I breathed her into me and felt charged and replenished from the action. She did not pull away from me after a few short moments as I thought she would have. Instead, Bella let me hold her like this for what had to be close to three minutes. It was unexpected and gave me more time to get used to the feeling of someone else this close to me. There was no speaking or noise of any kind. Our arms were wrapped around each other loosely, almost just hanging on each other. I could feel the rise and fall of her chest on my torso. Her ear was over my chest in just the right place that I knew she was hearing my overactive heart thump, but I could only hear the quiet pull of my own breath.

Even though this small moment of simple and unguarded affection lasted longer than usual, it was no less abrupt and jarring when she pulled away so completely that I was left with nothing but the quickly-fading warmth she had left behind. She was at least three feet away from me now, her face heavily guarded as if I had just tried to steal something precious from her. But she had initiated that contact, so whatever her expression meant, it couldn't be directed at me. "Do you want me to make you breakfast?" I had already eaten a piece of toast, but if she wanted to cook something for me, there was no way that I was going to say no. I figured she wouldn't offer to cook for me if she didn't want to and it really had been a long time since I had this many home cooked meals. Bella's food was good. It wasn't throw-together things. She was skilled and talented. Regardless why she had started cooking when she was young, she was good at it. Even the meal she cooked a few days ago that she said wouldn't be awesome had been incredibly delicious. I was not a food critic, but Bella layered flavors and textures in her food and I would venture to guess that her creations were just as good as five star restaurants. I nodded. "I-I-I m-made c-coffee." Bella did what she always did when she entered the kitchen; she opened up every cabinet and drawer, the freezer and the refrigerator in turn, checking out the contents. "Doesn't Dr. Cullen make good money?" I shrugged but combined it with a nod because I didn't know why she was asking. "I thought people who made good money would eat good food. Every time I come over here it's like you have a box of Lucky Charms, Wonderbread, a gallon of the cheapest brand of milk, and that's it. Shouldn't you guys be eating the good shit?" "N-n-no one cooks." I found it interesting that while she didn't like to cook and got annoyed when people brought up her own eating habits, she seemed to care an awful lot about what other people ate. "Well, what do you eat every day? Because Dr. Cullen should know that those fucking Hot Pockets are nutritionally void." "C-c-can I help you w-with that?" I asked as she started pulling out random things from the cupboards. "Not with those hands, you can't." I looked down at my bandaged hands and suddenly wished they weren't hurt anymore so that I could have been useful. "I mean, really, what the fuck is this?" she asked, holding up some kind of boxed dinner. She didn't let me answer. "It's shit." She shook her head. "You should learn how to cook, Edward. What will you do if no one can buy take-out anymore? You'll get sick because PB&J and grilled cheese aren't enough to sustain life for long." I knew that logically, she was right. I should know how to take care of myself if no one else was around and I knew she was speaking from experience. "How many of those did you break?"

I glanced at her, caught off-guard by her sudden change of topic, and she nodded to my hands. I pulled them off of the island countertop and into my lap. "F-f-four." Bella sighed but then turned back to the food on the counter. "How will you play music now?" It didn't really matter how I would play music, because I would gladly give up music for the rest of my life if it meant that I could save her from people like Mike. "I-I'll p-play it in m-my hhhead." I continued to watch her, noting how quickly she worked and how she placed the knife down on the cutting board the same way each time. She found a clean dishtowel in the drawer and spray cleaner under the sink, and then would clean every spot on the counter after it had been used. She washed her hands five times in eight minutes, each time rolling her shoulders back as she did. Her hair was pulled over one shoulder, exposing the entire length of one side of her beautiful neck. It was not the side with the fork scar. This side was blemish-free. I had no idea what she was making, but I enjoyed watching her make it. "Kate must not have taken her stuff when she left, huh?" I straightened up and creased my brow, wondering why she suddenly mentioned Kate. "W-what?" "This is a fuck-awesome knife, Edward. Easily a couple of hundred dollars for this one knife alone. She probably liked to spend money on shit like that, right?" Kate did spend money on kitchen things, I supposed because she liked to cook. "I g-guess." "Because this is name-brand shit, Edward. It didn't come from Wal-Mart. It's a shame no one uses it." "Y-you're using it." Bella finished chopping onion, rinsed her knife, wiped the spot on the counter where the wet vegetables had rested after being washed, and then put all of the dishes she had used into the dishwasher carefully. "Are you mad at Kate for leaving?" I took in a deep breath, not really knowing how to react to the question. We had been saving questions like that for e-mails and while I had no problem sharing the answer with Bella, my mouth and mind probably wouldn't give me the opportunity to speak about it effectively. But she had asked, and I didn't want to set a precedent of not answering a question. "I-it w-wasn't her fffault she didn't w-want k-kids. E-e-essssspecially k-kids liiike us. They sssshould've talked about it b-before they got m-married." "You are such an incredibly forgiving person, Edward. It's fucking insane how forgiving you are. How can you do that?" I looked down at my hands in my lap and felt powerless as lines of Scripture ran through my head. I wished the words would fade because they hindered more than they helped, and although I didn't want to do it, the words slipped out of my mouth without my conscious mind's permission. "I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions for My own sake; and I will not remember your sins. Put Me in remembrance; let us contend together; state your case, that you may be acquitted."

I let out a hollow breath and looked up to see Bella openly gaping at me, her brows knit together as her eyes danced about my face. "What the fuck is that? And how can you say that shit without stuttering?" I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before drawing in another. "I-it's a B-B-Bible vvvverse ab-bout ffffforgiveness." Her eyebrows rose expectantly. "And?" I shook my head as I licked my lips. This was not the right time to have a conversation about Bible verses and stuttering. I felt the panic rise within me that perhaps the conversation was too far gone to stop. I hadn't meant to say anything and definitely not Scripture. And now that it was out there and I hadn't stuttered once during all of it, questions were out there too. My chest felt tight. Too tight. And I wished that I could breathe and behave like a normal person instead of what was happening to me now. My hands were fists as I struggled for breath, my eyes shut as tight as my jaw was clenched. It felt like forever since I had taken in enough oxygen. Hands moved in my hair and whatever chemical reaction needed to happen within my brain to calm me down did so at the presence of her tranquil touch. My chest relaxed as my fingers uncurled. My jaw loosened and my thoughts righted themselves. "Do you like omelets?" As my eyes slowly opened, I nodded to her, my panting breaths slowing to manageable gasps for air. Her face came close to mine, her lips moving to my ear. "I would hold your hand, Edward, but I'm afraid it'll hurt you." I breathed deeply and then she was gone, putting a pan on the stove and pouring in oil. "So if you could only listen to one song for the rest of the week, what would it be?" Her question shocked me; it was so different from what the current tension level called for, but I slowly recognized it as her way of easing the tension and returning us to safer topics. ... "Ar-are you going to w-wear those all d-day?" I pointed to the red, sparkly horns on her head. She smiled at me and took a sip of her coffee before answering. "I was thinking about it." She shrugged, and the smile that slipped across her lips made me feel honored that she had given it to me. "Maybe I'll go out after dark to get some candy I shouldn't eat. I'll be a true rebel hellion then, skipping out on my grounding to go trick-or-treating." "W-why do you get upset w-when people t-talk about your d-diabetes?" Bella replaced her mug on the table and sighed, then pushed her plate away. I had hoped that she would've eaten everything she had served herself. It was more than evident that she'd lost weight since moving here and I suspected that her drug use was the cause. I hadn't meant to cause her to stop eating breakfast by asking her a question. It was stupid. I was stupid for asking. "Because no one's ever cared. It's ridiculous for people to suddenly care what the fuck I eat or how much insulin I use. I've managed to stay alive for seventeen years, most of them without the help of anyone's super-diabetic coaching techniques." "B-b-but you've n-n-not been able to mmm-mmm" I couldn't say the word 'manage' so I started a

new sentence. "You've hhhhad ssssseveral t-times w-where you" "Those times I forgot to eat, Edward." "H-h-how do you fffforget to eat, B-B-Bella?" Didn't her stomach remind her when she needed to feed herself? Bella stood up, gathered her plate and moved back into the kitchen. As I finished my omelet, I heard running water and then some very loud crinkling. When Bella returned she moved to my side of the table and leaned back against it beside me, looking down at me. "You can trick-or-treat with me. Here," she said, holding something silver and circular out to me. "It's a halo." I reached out, my fingers carefully taking the aluminum foil ring from her hand, and smiled. "Next year, I'll have Alice dress you up as Faramir. All I'll need is some scraggly hair and a loincloth and I'll be all set as Gollum." Quickly, her hand moved out and touched my jaw. "I like this." Her fingers dragged against the scruff on my face and I remembered that I hadn't shaved since Saturday morning. "I've n-never t-trick or t-treated," I said, hoping that she would keep her fingers on my face just a little longer. "Me either," she said quietly. "I got to pass out candy a few years though." Bella shook her head. "Renee always had a party on Halloween and she wouldn't buy me costume. Why didn't you go?" "I-it's the D-Devil's hhhholiday." ... It was amazing how comfortable and yet uncomfortable I felt doing something I'd never done before. The newness of it made me nervous but Bella was right beside me, which was calming. "Then just pull it all together with the fork, if it doesn't hurt too much. Normally, you'd just use your fingers, but seeing as how you've gone and broken a bunch of them, you have to fumble around with wooden utensils." Fumbling was right. I could barely hold the thing. I looked down at the bowl and watched as the flour and water mixed together to form a tacky ball. I had convinced her that my fingers did not hurt much and she should teach me how to cook something. "You ssssshould ssssstudy C-Culinary Arts, B-Bella. You're r-r-r-really vvvvery t-talented." Bella rolled her eyes at me. "Being able to cook isn't a talent, Edward, it's surviving with style. Playing piano is a talent. Writing music is a talent." I nodded. "Yes, they are, but so is being able t-to create ffffood liiike this." She shook her head. "I'm not creating it, you are. I'm just supervising. And you only stuttered once saying that." But I elongated two words, which was just as bad. "I w-wish you w-would ssssee how g-good you are. I kn-know that you d-don't liiike w-why you have to cook, b-but you could go to school and m-m-make ssssomething good come out of sssomething b-bad." Bella didn't respond, and an hour after baking the sweet, chocolate bread, I found myself at my piano

with Bella sitting next to me. I couldn't play anything for her since my hands were too wounded to move over the keys. I didn't exactly know why we were sitting here like this when there were so many other comfortable places to sit, but it was my piano, and so it calmed me, regardless how badly I wanted to play it, but couldn't. "I haven't gotten high all day, you know," she stated in a hushed whisper. "B-but you w-want to?" I ventured. "Yes." Bella was nothing if not honest and I appreciated it. At least she didn't feel the need to lie to me. "W-w-why d-d-did you get hhhhigh for the ffffirst t-time, B-Bella?" I turned to be able to see her face when she responded. I never wanted to step over the line with Bella and I felt that she gave me much more that I gave her. If she looked offended, I would back-track and go with an easier topic to talk about, like she had done earlier. "Like the very, very first time?" She glanced at me and I nodded. Bella licked her lips while her arms wrapped around her torso and she shivered as if she were cold. "Um," she hesitated, her voice barely audible, "he said it would relax me." My stomach tightened at her words and I suddenly didn't want to know, but I still asked more questions, remembering an e-mail she'd sent me. "You w-were t-twelve?" She nodded. "W-w-w-who's 'hhhhe'?" She still shook and I wanted to hold her like she had let me this morning, but I didn't know if she wanted that from me right now. "Renee's boyfriend." "Hhhhe got you hhhigh?" Something ached in the pit of my stomach as I watched her nod. Bella moved, trying to get off the piano bench, trying run away like she always did. Both of my hands gently grabbed onto her one slender wrist and I held back a wince of pain as my broken fingers were forced to move as much as they could. "Edward, stop," she whispered. I immediately released her; I wouldn't be one more person in her life taking away her freedom. She could move if she wanted to, no matter how badly I wanted her to stay with me. "D-d-don't hhhhide, B-Bella." "I'd had alcohol before he held that joint to my lips, Edward. But drinking left me incredibly stupid the next day and it was really easy for people to tell that there was something different about me. But pot was different. I could smoke a little and function really, really well. I actually pulled my grades back up because it helps narrow down my thoughts, you know, helps me focus." "W-w-why did hhhhe w-w-want you to r-r-relax?" Bella looked at me for a moment, her face hard but contemplative. "You can't ever unlearn a thing, Edward. Once you know, you'll always know. Are you ready for that?" I felt slightly panicked at the question because I was pretty sure that I wasn't ready for it but I couldn't possibly not know everything about her. And the pain in my chest and the worry in my heart told me that I probably already knew the answer to my own question, so I nodded. Bella got off the bench, and pulled her hair back for a moment, gathering it up in one hand, giving me a glimpse of her fork scar. It fell back down like a curtain closing. "I should go."

"D-d-don't." "Don't tell anyone I came over. I'd hate for Charlie to have to stretch his parental skills too much and extend my grounding period. I hope you like the bread." She backed up as I stood. I felt slightly dizzy and somewhat confused at her blatantly obvious attempt at running away. "You c-can sssstay and ssshare it with me." Bella glanced at her wrist, as if she wore a watch as she shook her head. "The bus'll be by soon, Edward. I'm supposed to be in school and nothere." "B-Bella," I tried again, not wanting her to run away from me anymore. I told her that I wouldn't hurt her and I wanted her to believe me. "And you didn't have to move your pills, Edward. You could've just asked me not to take them." My hands fisted as much as the bones and bandages would allow, making my body shiver at the pain. "I d-d-d" It was no use trying to speak because there was no way that I would ever be able to push out what I wanted to say to her. It had obviously not been a stroke of genius when I moved the pills to the kitchen. Of course she would see them there. Sometimes my idiocy astounded me. I followed her quietly through the house as she collected her coat and hat, slipping on her shoes. I didn't know what to say or do to keep her with me, but I desperately needed something because she would be out of the door in probably less than a minute and that was not what I wanted. It wasn't until she was actually half-way through the door that I caught her small finger with the very tip of mine, urging her to stay without being imposing or intimidating. "B-B-Bella, p-please." "I have to go, Edward." There was a mechanical nature to her voice; she almost sounded robotic. She slipped her finger free of mine and continued moving away from me. "Bye." I watched her descend the front steps quickly and nearly jog the path to the sidewalk. It was cold and wet and I wished that I could have given her a ride home. When she had been out of sight for five minutes, my body finally decided that it was cold enough and closed the door. I picked up the silver foil halo and the red horns Bella had laid on the piano and pushed the bench in. I headed up to my room and hoped that Bella would be online later. ... Imabell: What's up, Edward? I had waited for hours until she responded to my instant message of "Are you there?" I hadn't known if she was ignoring me or if she was just busy, but I was thankful when she finally did respond. ECullen123: Are you okay? Imabell: Why do you worry about me so much? Of course I'm fine, Edward. It's Forks, there's not much trouble I could find even if I wanted to. ECullen123: Are you high? She didn't respond right away.

Imabell: I told you that all my shit's gone, Edward. ECullen123: That doesn't mean you're not high. There's plenty of trouble to be found in Forks if one looks for it, Bella. As I read her next reply, I could almost hear her voice. Imabell: Yes, I'm high and it's fucking nice, thank you very much. ECullen123: I wish you wouldn't do that. Imabell: Get high or get annoyed when you ask me about it ALL THE TIME? ECullen123: Both. Imabell: If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. ECullen123: And if wishes were fishes, we'd all cast a net. Just because the chances of catching a fish are slim, doesn't mean I can't happily toss my net out there just in case a fish happens to swim by. Imabell: You shouldn't waste your wishes. If that stupid fish floats by, you should use it for something important. I've got some blackening seasoning in case that something important is Creole cooking. ECullen123: My wishes have never been wasted. Imabell: I have to work tomorrow but maybe Thursday you can come over? Charlie's letting me paint my room. ECullen123: I will definitely come over, but I doubt I could hold a paintbrush right now. Imabell: Good thing I'm going to ask you to hold a roller then. ECullen123: What color are you painting it? Imabell: WE'RE painting it blue. Blue was my favorite color and I couldn't help the smile I wore knowing her room was going to be blue on Thursday. ECullen123: You left your horns here. Imabell: I know. Right by your halo. ... Wednesday was a long day. Bella was in school and I was at home with four broken fingers, rendering me useless for playing the piano or guitar. My fingers were aching and sore from typing to Bella the night before. I was bored. But Thursday was better. Bella's father looked at me differently than he had in the past. His eyes lingered on my hands for a while before he looked me straight in the eyes. Most people didn't do that. It was strange and awkward and I looked away before long, shifting.

When I was up in Bella's room, I insisted that we keep the door open, not only for ventilation purposes, but also for her father's sake. I had just beaten Mike Newton's face into several broken bits. His concern for Bella was understandable and I was honestly happy that it seemed like someone other than me cared about her well-being. "Such a prick," Bella said under her breath. "I-it's good that he d-doesn't t-trust me, B-Bella. Hhhhe d-doesn't know me." I was sure she didn't tell him about what Mike Newton did, so he had no reason to think that what I did was okay. For all I knew, Chief Swan could have gone bowling with Newton's parents every Thursday night or something. "And?" "A-and you n-n-need ssssomeone to look out fffor you." Bella sighed and rolled her eyes, "Since when?" My brow creased, confused that she always got so defensive when someone mentioned being concerned for her. "E-everyone n-needs hhhhelp ssssometimes, B-Bella. P-people can't b-be strong all the time. Ffffffor as b-big and ssstrong as E-Emmett is, hhhhe ssssstill thinks hhis mmm-mmmom w-will change her m-mind about him. Hhhe ssstill needs C-Carlisle and Esme and R-R-Rosalie t-to hhhhelp him get through some d-days." Bella looked away but I continued, even though I was fatigued from talking. "It's o-okay t-to let sssomeone c-c-care about you." Silence loomed as we began to paint and I worried that I had said something wrong. With Bella, I never knew. I liked the color she had picked out. It reminded me of a midwestern summer day, where the sky was exactly this shade of blue. "Do you like football?" she finally asked. "N-no. "Score. Me either." "W-what do you think of o-o-orchids?" "Pretty overrated. Sure, they're pretty as fuck but they're a fickle flower. I've never taken care of one but I've seen that shit on the Discovery Channel. I don't know. Now, aloe is a much better flowering plant. It's functional and beautiful all at the same time." She paused to dip her roller in the pan of blue paint. "How're your hands?" "O-okay." In actuality, my hands were hurting quite a bit. She didn't question me further. "I-is that your question?" "Sure," she answered quickly, continuing to paint, "Your turn then." I'd known what I wanted to ask her without thinking about it. "If you c-could do anything r-right n-now, w-w-what w-would you do?" Bella stopped painting and craned her neck to look at me. "Really? That's what you're asking me?"

I was confused. I thought it was a good question because she would have to say more than one or two words. "Y-yes." "Seriously?" "Y-yes. W-w-w-wh" My words died in my throat when she put her roller down in the pan and moved towards me. "You might not like it," she said quietly and all of my words stuck in my mind. Unable to stop myself, I took an involuntary step backwards as she moved closer. I wondered if she knew how intimidating she could be. If I stepped back any further, I would be pressed against the freshly-painted wall. I watched as she pressed her hand against the wet paint on the wall beside her. Her other hand shot out so quickly that I barely saw it come toward me and take the hem of my shirt. She lifted it, completely baring my stomach to her and just as quickly, she pressed the hand with paint to it. "I would do that," she said before letting my shirt drop again. "And maybe this." She rose up on her toes and pressed her mouth against my neck. I stumbled backwards into the wall and she came with me. My shoulders curled forward and my neck bent so my lips could find hers. My hands moved under her arms and around her back as she pressed closer into me. Hers moved to my waist and just rested there. The kiss intensified until my whole body was on fire from it. I should have stopped it, because Bella thought that all guys wanted from her was sex and while we weren't having sex, what her mouth was doing to mine made it impossible not to think about sex while kissing her. A cough forced her to pull away abruptly and I was thankful for the chance to catch my breath and collect my thoughts, but I was more than a little embarrassed that her father could see my body's reaction to her. "What?" she asked with annoyance, throwing a look at her father who stayed very carefully just outside her door. "It's time for Edward to go." I licked my lips as I glanced at my watch. He was right. I pulled away from the wall, recognizing that my clothes were now ruined from the sky blue paint, and realizing just as quickly that I didn't care. When I got home, I was reluctant to take a shower as I stared at my torso in the mirror. Her painted mark and the surprising lingering tickle of her lips were all I had of her. ...

Chapter 39: An Angel Kissing on a Sinner Bella

I took a Vicodin before my session with Dr. Hale because I knew she would continue to ask me questions that I didn't want to answer. So I sat somewhat lump-like in the chair and just waited. She would ask and I would probably answer because that was what we did now. Dr. Hale didn't ask a question; instead she handed me a small book. My forehead stitched together in a scowl. "What's this? Homework? Because I have enough of that already." When I looked at it, I saw it was a book of collected recipes. "It was my mother's. She cooked all the time." "Why are you giving it to me?" "Because I don't cook and there's no real hope for Jasper or Rosalie to suddenly pick up a spatula or don an apron. They both are very mechanical. Even if she says she doesn't like it, Rosalie can repair an engine faster than most skilled mechanics and Jasper can see the inner workings of any machine without even a glimpse inside. Cooking doesn't interest either of them." Whatever. "But why are you giving it to me?" Dr. Hale smiled. "Because you're quite the skilled cook, Bella, and my mother would appreciate someone with your skill level possessing it." I didn't want someone else's recipes in a book. "Okay." "How was your week?" "Edward wasn't in school all week. The bus made me late and Biology was stupid because I had no one to look through the fucking microscope with and his fucking fingers are broken." "Are you concerned for him?" I shrugged, not really wanting to reveal to someone who was so connected to Edward what the hell I was feeling for him. "I wish his fingers weren't broken." "I'd like to have a session with you and your father, Bella." Her tone was matter-of-fact, as though it was an obvious jump in topics. My eyes narrowed. "Why?" "Don't you think it's time that you ask him all of the questions you've been wondering about?" "There's nothing I want to ask Charlie." Dr. Hale was quiet for a moment as she jotted something down. "Do you think it's fair that he has no idea what's happened to you in your life?" My jaw clenched and I sat up straight, my fingers digging into the arms of the chair. "No, I don't, but it's not fair to me because he would fucking know if he wanted to know." I slumped back a little. "He could have known anything about me at anytime, but Charlie didn't quite give a fuck." Dr. Hale smiled again and as usual, it made me uncomfortable. "Your father is thirty-five years old, Bella, which made him a parent at eighteen. I'm sure thirty-five seems old to you, but not all people over the age of thirty are skilled parents, and they definitely aren't at eighteen. And when you were eleven, he was only twenty-nine, so by the time your mother's boyfriend"

"Shut up." I didn't want to hear her say it. I knew that she knew because I had told her, but I didn't want her to keep talking about that shit all the fucking time. She just sighed, and continued. "The point is, everyone makes mistakes and I think that you're holding your father to a very high standard that would be hard for him to live up to." "I don't care how old he is or how old he was. He could have bought a fucking clue." She was silent for a while before folding her hands over the yellow legal pad on her lap. "I think you love your father, Bella." I desperately wanted to deny that statement, but I couldn't seem to find words. "I think that while you have a right to be upset with him, you're putting quite a lot of your anger over what you had to go through onto him when he doesn't deserve the brunt of it." So this was what it was going to be? A fucking session with Dr. Know-It-All telling me that Charlie didn't deserve my anger? Jesus Fucking Christ, he could have stopped it all. He could have stopped Renee from taking me in the first place. He was a goddamn police officer for fuck's sake! Didn't they train the Podunk PD to spot that kind of shit? And if he fucking knew, why did he let it go on? I would have told him everything a long time ago if he would have just asked a question! Couldn't a thirty-year-old ask why I suddenly didn't want to be around him when I was twelve? Couldn't a thirty-year-old see that I'd lost a bunch of weight between the summer I was eleven and twelve? Wasn't that a clue that something was fucking wrong with his daughter? "I don't want to talk about Charlie anymore." "Okay," she said quickly, "Tell me about the first time you got high." I looked away. "I don't want to talk about that either." ... It was amazing how awkward some moments could be. I was standing just inside Edward's bedroom while everyone else besides the two of us were downstairs. He'd closed and locked his door as always, but neither of us moved any farther into the room. Usually by now I was on the couch and he was sitting timidly on his bed. But today he stood there with me, his bandaged hands just hanging at his side. It was awkward because just yesterday I had made a painted handprint on his stomach and then ruined his clothes by kissing him back into a wall. And now we just stood there with each other. But I needed him like I needed water to live, so I moved closer to him, feeling the unusual sense of happiness as his arms moved to hold me loosely. "I took a painkiller," I admitted even though he didn't ask. My voice sounded tired. Even though he said nothing, his arms tightened around me just slightly and I pressed myself further into him. I didn't really know why I was doing this. Even though last Saturday night happened and he wasn't at the party to stop it, he had been there for me after and that meant something. And the fact that he finally decked Mike Newton made it seem like he saved me or something.

No one had ever saved me from anything before. "I'm sorry," I murmured into his chest. "H-h-hhhave you eaten?" I nodded against his chest, partially unwilling to think about anything other than the steady thump, thump of his heart. "W-w-what did you eat?" "Mmm." My eyes closed and I felt his heat and smell and the rhythm of his heart wash over me. "Food." "B-B-Bella." The way his concern dripped from my name made me sigh and pull out of his embrace. "Stop worrying about that shit." "N-no. I w-won't." Again, I sighed and crossed the room to his books, my hand slipping into the pocket of my jeans and curling around the green rock. "I had a salad." I wasn't quite sure why it made me incredibly depressed or angry when someone started asking me shit like that, but I knew it did. And I couldn't help growing sad at the fact that I had to fucking tell him what I ate. Like it was his business. Or Charlie's. There was a rustle behind me and I glanced around, suddenly feeling just a little bit lighter as I saw that Edward was sitting on his bed like it was his bed. This shit with him was hard. He made me want to cry all the time now because he was just about as perfect as they came. While dipshits like Newton made fun of his stutter, I kind of liked it. It was special. He was special and not like the "short bus" kind of special, but special like precious. He'd called me a first edition or whatever, but he was such a better read than I was. If he was a book, I could read him every day and never get bored. It sucked that I wasn't a better person for him. The fucking universe was a fucking bitch for putting Edward around the rest of us fuck-ups that did nothing but fuck up. It wasn't fair for him to have to associate with people like me. He should've been a fucking guitar-playing, straight-A, god-amongst-mortals football player giving his dick to a cheerleader named Ashley or MacKayla, who was a fucking virgin and who could let him touch her face without thinking about shit that no teenage girl should ever have to think about. He should be able to think about college and the fucking awesome career he'd have one day instead of thinking that he wasn't good enough. The pull I felt toward him was strange. He was on the bed as usual, but instead of flopping down on the couch, I moved toward him almost automatically. I crawled onto the bed and sat down next to him. I didn't ignore the fact that his eyes were wide, probably from shock, but I didn't act like I saw it because that would just freak him out more. So much between us was awkward and yet the underlying feeling was that of casual comfort. It was

like, even though it was awkward now, I could feel that it was going to be different at some point. The silence was looming a little too much, so I searched my sluggish mind to find something to talk to him about. "I read this book once about reincarnation and how all the people in our lives now have been in our past lives. Like we all made a deal to stick together each time we come back. Like a fate that we agreed upon before we were born." Edward's hand moved over mine, his fingertips brushing over my knuckles before curling around the side of my hand. "But I think it's kind of bullshit because it was all about how our souls, or whatever, chose our lives before we were born and I have to say, if my fucking soul chose this life, I'm going to kick its ass." "I w-w-w-want to touch your cheek, B-Bella." Although my breath hitched, I didn't acknowledge what he said. We'd already had the discussion and I was tired of it. "Who do you think you were in your past life?" "C-c-can I touch your ch-cheek?" Shit. I let out a ragged breath and I knew that this was going to be one of the things he decided he'd push me on. I knew that he would just keep asking in different ways until I let him do it because that's what he did with questions I didn't want to answer. He was pretty damn good at wearing me down. My jaw loosened. I hadn't even noticed how tight it had been. I moved off the bed and noted his disappointment right away. I wished he would have noticed that I still held his hand. I wanted him to stand up with me, so I tugged at his hand. If he was going to touch my face, it sure as hell wasn't going to happen on a bed. When he was standing up, I moved myself a little farther from him so that I could look up at his face, but my hand was still connected with his. I took a deep breath. "Justdo it." His brow creased as his eyes danced over every millimeter of my face. I could feel the liquid energy that sang out from his eyes, coating and covering my skin. "I w-w-won't if you don't w-want me to." I bit the inside of my cheek and took another breath. It would happen sooner or later, I might as well get it over with. I saw his hand rise up in my periphery and I shut my eyes. My one hand curled tighter around his as the other one fisted in his shirt. It was such a feather-light touch. If I hadn't known he was doing it, I might not have felt it at all. I felt emboldened because it wasn't so bad, just a little tickling, almost like the prickling feelings I got from his eyes. But then his thumb was brushing harder underneath my eye. Breathing became difficult and it seemed as though the oxygen had left the room. The tips of his fingers were rubbing light circles near my ear and my stomach tightened. His hand moved and I felt gentle knuckles along the line of my cheek. Then I was back on my bed in Arizona and I felt like all of the air in my lungs had suddenly left and my

whole body was on fire with fear and confusion and helplessness. He wasn't supposed to be in my room. He was supposed to be asleep in my mother's room. His voice was dirty in my ear, his breath too hot and sticky. His hand didn't stay on my face for long. He moved it to my chest and pressed hard until I was immobilized. His hands were big and his arms were well-muscled. It hadn't mattered what I did, the weight of him kept even my arms and legs from acting on the impulses my brain was shooting at them. I gasped for breath as I felt like I was going to pass out from lack of air, and I quickly moved away from Edward, back over to his books. He must have just read The Pearl by Steinbeck because it wasn't pushed back as far as it usually was. I had to work hard to control my breaths and I was happy that Edward didn't follow me here. I already felt like I was suffocating and I didn't think I could handle drowning in his light right now. I took the green rock from my pocket and squeezed it, enjoying the slightly painful jabs it shot into my hand. My other hand moved to my head, my fingers pinching the hair at the base and tightening. The heat that radiated from the tinge of pain woke me up a bit. "I have to work all this weekend. But maybe we could do something Sunday night or whatever. I mean, I'm still grounded, but Charlie would let you come over." "W-why did you t-take that p-pill?" I moved to the couch, sat down and curled myself as tightly as possible. "Because I knew that Dr. Hale was going to ask me about shit that I didn't want to talk about." "A ssssalad isn't en-nough, B-Bella." I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but I can take care of myself." I'd been doing it for awhile now and I knew that from his perspective I must've looked like a massive fuck-up who couldn't manage to feed herself properly, but I'd gotten this far without anyone giving a fuck about what or when I ate. "I kn-know you can, B-Bella. B-but I just w-want to help." He moved to sit next to me and even though there was nothing more interesting to look at than him, I turned my face away. Sometimes it just hurt to look at him. He was so fucking hopeful that it made me ache. Hadn't the hope been beaten out of him? How was it that he could just keep on going as if the universe hadn't stacked all the cards against him? How could he be shut down so many times but still try? I didn't know the details of his past, but I knew he was here, living with a man who wasn't his father, with two kids who weren't his siblings. I knew about his stutter and I could only imagine how that had messed with his head when he was younger, disabling his ability to connect with kids his age. I knew his stupid bitch of a mother killed herself in front of him and I knew despite that, he still loved her like she was an angel. But that was all I knew. He didn't talk about his father, but his father looked like an asshole, so I could understand.

Edward wasn't comfortable talking about his brother either. But he was so I didn't know how he could keep going to school every day with the weight he carried around. The weight I felt pulled me down constantly and the only thing that kept me going most days was the buoy of the constant stream of numbness I got from pot or whatever else was on the table. I wasn't quite sure how it happened, but I was leaning into him, resting back against him on his couch. The heat of his body felt good and right against mine. He was always so warming. And not just in a sexual way, although it was becoming much more difficult for me to keep my hands off of him. The only thing that helped was the fact that he always stopped as if we'd crossed some line of 'too much,' when in reality, it was never enough. "How are your hands?" "B-better." "Do they hurt?" "N-not really." "Mike hasn't been in school all week. You should kick the shit of him every Monday to save us from having to see his stupid face." I shifted and twisted, turning to look directly at him now. He was fine with my eyes taking him in for all of twenty seconds and then when I didn't say anything, he started fidgeting, his eyes moving away from mine as his body tensed. "Why do you do that?" He shook his head, his mouth pursing together as he tried to get out a word. I assumed he wanted me to clarify my question. "Why do you think you're not as good as you so clearly are?" His eyes widened, but then he looked down at his hands. "I mean, you fucking know that you're better than what you think you are, right?" It was a stupid question because obviously he didn't. I turned my body so that I faced him, and the moved onto my knees to get next to him. I was close enough that my breasts brushed his shoulder when I moved. "You act like you're one of those ugly guys who were just born with a face that no one wants to see. But that's not you, Edward." He turned toward his wall of music as his right hand scratched the back of his neck. "You're sort of beautiful, Edward." Edward drew in a shaky breath and moved as if he was going to get up off the couch. If I had to guess, he was getting up to put on some music to calm himself. But I didn't want him to get up, so I moved again, straddling him as had become my custom. And as he began to breathe deeper and quicker, his wounded hands moved to my hips and I suddenly realized that with injured hands, he wouldn't be able to control my hips. I didn't understand why he would deny himself something that his body wanted. I could tell that his body wanted me every time we were close like this.

I moved in closer, bending my neck so that I could attach my mouth to his. He tasted every bit as good as he had every other time. But while his lips moved against mine, they didn't move like the lips of someone with an erection as hard as his. Most guys would be frantic with need. I bucked my hips just slightly as I tried to get him to kiss me without holding back. It didn't work, so I trailed my kisses over the sharp line of his jaw up to his ear. I sucked the small bit of flesh of his earlobe into my mouth, letting my teeth scrape it just slightly as I released it. He let out a shuddered breath and a low groan accompanied it. That groan was sexy as fuck and it made everything inside of me vibrate from the sound of it. My hands moved to his chest and slid up over his collarbone and up to his shoulders. From there they curled around the back of his neck and then tangled in his hair as I continued to explore the contours of his jaw with my mouth. I loved that with his broken, bandaged hands he couldn't shave, leaving reddish blond whiskers to tickle my lips and tongue as it swept out against his flesh. I wanted to hear that fucking groan again, so I moved my mouth back to his earlobe and sucked on it, wondering how long it would be until he rejected me. I hoped it wouldn't come. I wanted him so bad and everything within me told me that I needed him as close to me as possible. I pressed harder into him, wishing that he was pressing hard into me. I fucking needed him. I needed him to want me like I wanted him. I needed him to need me this way. So when he used his still-hands to push me away, it fucking wounded me as much as it had the first time. And like always, I pressed myself into him more. "No one will know, Edward. You don't have to tell anyone." I sucked his earlobe again. "Or you can tell everyone, I don't care, justjust" "B-B-Bella," he gasped. I bit my lower lip and squeezed my eyes shut. I fucking wanted him and he kept pulling this shit despite his fantastic erection pressing against me. "Please?" I practically begged. "B-B-B-B-B" I pulled away, moving off of him. "Yeah, I know, 'we can't.'" He reached out and kept me from getting up. I fought against the urge to yank my wrist out of his loose hold. It would have injured him even more. "B-B-Bella, p-please don't be mad." I wasn't mad. I was disappointed. I fucking wanted him and I fucking needed him more than I should have. And I should have just said "fuck it" and gone downstairs and found Jacob. He and I could have fucked in the bathroom before Charlie came to pick me up. He could have come over tonight after Charlie was asleep and fucked me on my dresser again. I could've made plans to fuck him before work tomorrow. Hell, I could have found several willing participants to fuck me at work tomorrow. There were the two guys who seemed to want to me. One worked in Grocery, the other in Produce. They were both named Ryan, roughly the same age and looked so similar that I had a hard time figuring out which one I was talking to. But it was clear that they both wanted to fuck me. And I'd had a

few thoughts about fucking them both on the Produce prep table right next to the pineapple Ryan Number One had been cutting. Ryan Number Two looked like he was pretty good at eating pussy, or at least he was in my mind, so a lot of my fantasies involved him on his knees with my leg hooked over his shoulder. I felt a feathery touch on my cheek and instantly I jerked my head away and my eyes narrowed. It took a moment, but I forced my jaw to relax and I kept myself from batting away Edward's hand. He knew that I didn't like my face touched, and yet he did it anyway. "Stop," I said quietly and got up. I moved to his iPod and fiddled with it until music came out. "I'm not mad, Edward." I heard him get up, but I didn't look at him. I felt him next to me, but I didn't react. "You ssssseem m-m-mad." I crossed the room, moving away from him very deliberately, because he needed to know that if he was going to reject me like that, I needed at least a few feet of distance in order to redirect the lusty thoughts I was having about him. I glided my fingers along the spines of the books on the lowest shelf. They were his art and music books. "I'll tell you when I'm mad, Edward." "T-tell mme w-what you're thinking r-right now." "You don't want to know," I said in a sigh. "I d-do, B-Bella." Fine. I supposed if he wanted to know, I should tell him. "I want to fuck you, Edward. And I'm trying to be good because you deserve someone who's good, but it's really fucking hard, especially when I can barely manage to get you to let me stick my tongue in your mouth." Unfortunately, my bluntness caused him to choke on air and I spun around to see him practically gasping for breath. I couldn't do anything right and I realized in order to be good for Edward, I needed to stop being so blunt because he obviously couldn't handle it. But it was hard to keep my hands off of him when I was near him. And he was over there nearly panicking and I felt like shit because I wanted to do him and he didn't want to fuck me. So I moved to him, deciding to touch him the only way he would allow me to without freaking out. I raised one hand and put it in his hair, my finger tips moving gently over his scalp. My other hand held his bandaged hand softly. After a moment, his breathing returned to normal and his heart rate regulated itself to a normal pace. He let out a breath and I moved away from him, the closeness suffocating me suddenly. "I have to go, Edward." "D-d-don't." He grabbed for my hand, but I was too quick. "Charlie'll be here soon and I have to work in the morning." "Y-y-you alw-ways lllleave, B-B-Bella. D-d-don't llleave."

He had a point, but I wasn't about to concede. "I have to go." And I did have to because being in his room and wanting him to want me but coming to the realization that he didn't want me fucking hurt and I had never been in the habit of asking for more pain if I could help it. My hand was on the door-knob. I stopped for a moment, contemplating staying in his room until I absolutely had to go, but then he moved closer to me. My body and mind reacted. It was time to go. "So, yeah, you can e-mail me or whatever and maybe we'll do something Sunday." It was the last thing I said before leaving the room and Edward behind. My whole body registered that it hurt to be so far away from him, but I couldn't go back now. ... "Hey, don't touch that!" I spun around at the voice, immediately pulling my hand away from the powered pallet jack. Riley leaned in closer to me. I hadn't realized that he was even in the backroom. "You're not eighteen yet." His smile was much too smug and I couldn't help but smile back, my initial fear fading to nothing. "I wasn't going to use it or anything. But that flashing green light just kept taunting me." I shrugged. "You are hell-bent on doing things you're not supposed to, aren't you?" I shook my head. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Riley." "That thing would eat you alive, Bella. I know this guy on third shift who nearly lost his foot." I narrowed my eyes at him. There was a sparkle in Riley's own eyes that told me he was actually a nice guy and not just someone who wanted to bend me over the pallet of sugar cookies. I'd liked him from the first moment I met him, but now having worked with him a little longer, I appreciated having him here. An entire eight-hour shift probably would have driven me crazy, but Riley made it fun. "You're just fucking with me. I bet I could handle it better than you do." His smile widened and he took a step back, his hands moving to fiddle with back stock product on a cart. "I have no doubt you'd be able to operate that equipment, Bella." Riley paused and looked down at the other side of the backroom and then back to me. "But you're not eighteen." He paused. "Want to go throw some milk?" I could think of a million things that I'd like to do more than fill the dairy case, but I supposed if I had to do it, at least I would have Riley for company. I kept thinking about Edward and how he was steadfastly denying me. I glanced at Riley as he used both hands to bring four gallons up to the top rack. He had beautiful arms. I could watch him work all day and would often have to force myself to stop thinking about Riley and his beautiful arms. He was so fine. I bet if I got Riley hard, he'd fuck me. Riley's status of fuckable hottie aside, he wasn't Edward and just as much as I had been looking at Riley's arms, I'd been thinking about Edward's hands even more. ...

I had an e-mail waiting for me after work on Saturday and just like always, I felt shot of excitement. But this one made me even more excited as usual, as Edward and I hadn't e-mailed lately. Hi, Bella. Was work okay? I'm not sure whose turn it is (if we're keeping track), so I thought I would just start. What do you do all day at work? If you had to pick one or the other, would you rather be blind or deaf? If you could win anything, other than the lottery or money, what would it be? Why didn't you live with your father when you were little? Why do you always run so far away when we spend time together? We never really set plans for Sunday, if you still want to hang out. When do you work? Edward Before I could hit reply, a little box popped up, drawing my attention away from his e-mail. ECullen123: Hi. Imabell: What's up, Edward? I was just going to reply to your email. How are your hands? ECullen123: Better. How was work? Imabell: Work-like. They changed my shift for tomorrow because I have to help build some stupid holiday display. It's not even a few days after Halloween and they're already putting up Christmas shit. ECullen123: Don't you like Christmas? Imabell: No, do you? ECullen123: I don't know. Imabell: You don't know? ECullen123: Since they changed your schedule, will you not have any time tomorrow? Imabell: No. I work 1 9 tomorrow. ECullen123: Okay. I suppose I'll see you Monday? I can still pick you up, right? Imabell: Of course. Are you no longer suspended? ECullen123: I have been paroled. What about you? Imabell: Still 'grounded' but Charlie fails to understand that I don't really go anywhere anyway, so it's not like he's 'teaching' me anything. ...

My instant messaging conversation with Edward carried me through the evening. I'd only gotten high twice today, once before work and once on my lunch break. And although I wanted to be high right now, I was going to try to get through this evening on my own. After he signed off, I replied to his e-mail, feeling as though it wasn't right to let his questions go unanswered for very long. In truth, the e-mail format of our relationship was growing stale. It wasn't that I didn't like learning new things about him or sharing bits and pieces of myself, but I would rather have been in his presence while doing it. But he was much more comfortable using the written word and I understood that. Hell, I was more comfortable putting the shit in my head inside of an e-mail and hitting send. Face-to-face was difficult not only because I wanted to jump his shit and ride him into the sunset, but also because the stuff we asked was hard to answer. I probably would have chickened out if he was sitting right next to me. I liked that Edward had that little bit of power because I had never told anyone about the fucking fork in my neck or the burns on my tongue. But somehow Edward managed to make me want to tell him. Edward, I'm glad your suspension is up. School is boring as fuck without you. So, the answers: What do you do all day at work? - I mostly put up stock. Take stuff out of boxes and put it on shelves. Like I said, tomorrow I have to build a big display or something. I'm sure it'll be stupid. If you had to pick one or the other, would you rather be blind or deaf? - Can I pick neither? If I had to pick one, I'd rather be deaf because I don't like the dark. If you could win anything, other than the lottery or money, what would it be? I don't want to win anything. Should I be striving to win something? Why didn't you live with your father when you were little? I don't know. I assume he didn't want me so I never asked him if I could live with him. Why do you always run so far away when we spend time together? Because you're one of the things I'm afraid of, Edward. And before you even ask, here's the answer to the question you're thinking right now. You didn't do anything to make me afraid of you and physically, I'm not. But emotionally, it's a different story. I don't really know how to stay away from you, even though everything inside of me is shouting that it's time to bail the fuck out. I don't let people touch my face. I don't go to the movies with people. I don't hold hands and I sure as fuck don't dance. And yet, I've done all those things with you. And I don't know what the fuck that means, Edward. No one's ever asked me what my favorite flower is or about any of my scars. I don't know what that means. I want to be with you all the time but I don't know how to be with you at all. That's fucking scary as hell. And I'm trying to be better for you because I know you don't like drugs. And I'm trying not to get high, but it's just not working out that well. I don't know, maybe I'm not trying. But I have intensions to try.

Fucking Christ, sorry for the ramble. My turn: How do you not know if you like Christmas? Tell the truth; how fucking awesome did it feel to beat the shit out of Newton? How can you have panic attacks one day and then save Alice when she's bloody and needy the next and not even panic just a little? If you were an animal, what animal would you be? What is your least favorite of all the books that you've read? Thank you for helping me paint my walls. They're much nicer now. I'm sorry we can't hang out tomorrow but maybe you could come over for dinner on Monday. B. I started feeling really antsy about five minutes after I hit send. I suddenly felt like I shouldn't have put all that shit in my e-mail. I should've just ended it and been done with it. The shit between Edward and me was incredibly Fuck, I didn't know what it was, but it wasn't normal. This thing with us was hard to understand and I felt like I was swimming as hard as I could against the current to avoid drowning. I was getting tired. I knew he didn't like drugs, obviously, but should he only fucking know how hard it was to stay afloat some days without them. I wished I was high. I wouldn't have been so uptight about the e-mail. A little bit of pot would relax me. Horrible words and a nasty, foul voice sounded in my head, giving me chills. An echo of the past that I'd stamped down a long time ago was back and before I could stop myself from thinking about it, I was in my room in Phoenix again. "Just breathe it in, Bella," he said, his hand on my thigh. The other one held a joint very close to my mouth. His little finger stroked my cheek and I had to bite the inside of my cheek to focus on something other than his touch. I leaned forward, my lips barely touching the paper. I inhaled because it didn't matter if I didn't want to; it was going to happen, just like everything else in my life. He wanted me to do it, so I did it. "That's it, Bella, good girl." I sputtered and coughed as it burned my throat and lungs. It tasted horrible and I felt like spitting. I doubled over. He laughed. "You'll never get high like that, Bella." My mom wasn't home, so he wasn't quiet. "Here," he said as he pulled me up. The joint now hung from his lips. "When I do this," he said, running his index finger over my exposed collar bone, "you breathe in, okay?" I nodded and watched him take a big pull off of the smoking joint and hold it in his mouth. He leaned

in and I cringed as his lips touched mine. His finger stroked my collar bone and then moved lower. I was supposed to do something. Breathe, I had to breathe. And my lungs were on fire again and my eyes were wide. His hand clamped down on one of my wrists. Before I could breathe out, I saw his eyes change and I knew it was time for him to be mean. His other hand moved to cover my mouth, his thumb and index finger pinching my nose. "You have to hold the shit in, Bella." I couldn't breathe and I panicked, my legs kicking out and my hands moving up to his on my mouth. I couldn't pull it off Then he suddenly released me and I could breathe again, if that's what you called what I was doing through the painful coughing. His hand moved to the back of my neck. "You're such a dirty girl, Bella. Show me how dirty you can be and I won't tell your mother." I shook my head quickly and violently and, forced myself to return to the present. I moved away from my computer desk and the new chair Charlie had bought to replace of the one he smashed. Inside the closet, in the second shoe box, were my old-as-fuck Goodwill Chucks. And buried all the way in the toe of the left shoe was my new bag of pot. Jacob sold me a dime bag so that I'd never have too much for Charlie to find if he was going to go through my things again. I didn't even think it was Charlie. I thought it was Dr. Hale. It wasn't my one-hitter. It was Jake's, so now I owed him for that and he let me borrow another one. Even though I wanted the man's voice to stop echoing in my brain as quickly as possible, it wasn't as simple tonight as to just pack it. I had to break that shit up. So I sat there with my stupid fucking hands shaking like I was some scared little girl, trying to break it up and pack Jacob's nice glass one-hitter. I fucking hated that voice and I wished that I could forget what he sounded like. I hated the way I could still feel his fucking breath on my cheek and hands on my skin. My stomach tightened and I fought against the urge to get sick. I just had to smoke a little. I knew that two hits would be enough. I would hold them in as long as I could and blow the smoke out of the window. I made it to the window and as quietly as I could, I threw it open. I hoped that two hits would be enough to shut that motherfucker's voice off and then I wouldn't have to hear him say those things. But maybe it would take more than two. I put the pipe to my lips and the lighter to the tip, and inhaled. I wouldn't have to feel him do those It was only after five hits that I withdrew back into my room, leaving the window open and letting in the too cold air. Cold air was good for waking me up and keeping the pot smell out.

It was late, but not late enough for Charlie to be sleeping. I jumped when there was a knock on my door. I really didn't want to answer it, but didn't want him to break the fucker down again because I didn't think I could handle it. My chest tightened as my stomach knotted. The chair wasn't under the handle yet. I was stupid and should have done that before messing around with the weed. "What?" I asked through the door. "Do you have the window open?" "Yes." "Can you close it? This is an old house, Bella, and it's already expensive to heat." "Fine." "I'm going to bed." What the fuck was I supposed to say to something like that? Why did he think I needed to know that he was going to bed? Did I need to say something in return? Was I supposed to be thrilled and enlightened that I now had confirmation Charlie was going to sleep? "'Kay." I spent the rest of the night trying not to fall asleep because every time I closed my eyes, I was back in my room in Phoenix. I guess I finally fell asleep against my will, because I awoke at eleven and went to work at twelve-thirty. The holiday display project was massive and there were about four of us doing it. I got to put up one side with Riley. He and I talked about stupid, random things like the water temperature at First Beach and some kind of soccer teamed named Arsenal. I'd been working for awhile, getting ready to take my lunch and get high, when I heard, "I-i-it's b-beginning to look a lot like Ch-Chr-Christmas." Instantly, a smile forced its way onto my face. I turned around and looked up. "Edward!" He was an incredibly wonderful surprise. I stood up. "Hi. What are you doing here?" "I w-w-was in the neighborhood." I narrowed my eyes but kept the smile on my face. "No, you weren't." He shook his head and smiled. "No, I w-w-wasn't, but I w-wanted to see you." I looked back at Riley who was pulling out small glass snow globes and putting them on a shelf. "I'm taking my lunch now." ... I was on top of him in his Volvo, the steering wheel grinding into my back as I pressed myself to him further. His hands were around me, pressing into the small of my back, as I let my hands tangle in his rusty hair as my lips attacked his. If he moved his hands any lower, he'd be cupping my ass and I

hoped to hell that he would be doing that soon. I wanted him so fucking badly in this moment and if I was perfectly honest with myself, there was the ever-present aching need for him rippling throughout my body. I pulled myself closer to him and sighed into his mouth when I felt him harden completely beneath me. He felt so good. His bandaged hands moved up my back and down over my shoulders, and he moved to encircle my wrists. Carefully, he pulled them away and practically forced me to stop touching him. I didn't stop kissing him though. "B-B-B-Bella," he stuttered against my lips. "Hmmm?" "B-B-Bella, we sssshould sssstop." I shook my head and sucked his lower lip into my mouth, letting my tongue run the length of it. I moved my hands, wrists still covered by his, to his chest and pawed at him. "B-B-Bella, ssssstop." "Why?" "B-b-b-because." I lifted my head away from him and focused on his deep green eyes. "You want me. Your body wants me, Edward, I can" I moved to press against him again. "I c-c-can't." I pulled back again. "Don't you want me?" He bit his lower lip as he gave me a slow answering nod. "I w-w-w-want you." "Then quit saying we have to stop. I promise I'll make you feel good, baby." I ignored how his hands tightened at my words. I ignored how firm his arms were when I tried to move closer again. I kept inching closer to him until I could attach my mouth to his earlobe in hopes of hearing that sexy fucking groan of his. His hands felt like they were bruising my wrists. He pushed and pulled me away from him. "B-B-Bella, sssstop." I sighed. Well, it was more of a huff, actually. I pushed up against his shoulders and moved off of him, settling back down in the passenger seat. He had let go of my wrists and I ran my hands through my hair as I let out a deep breath. "We're really not going to" Edward shook his head. "Seriously?" He nodded.

"Well, shit." "D-d-don't be m-m-mmmad, B-B-B-Bella." I fucking sighed again. "I'm not mad, Edward." "You ssssssseem m-m-mmad." I was disappointed. I was upset. I was confused. I was jealous as fuck of Jessica Motherfucking Stanley. But I wasn't mad at Edward. "I have to go. My lunch is up." "B-b-but you d-didn't eat. W-w-will you be o-o-okay?" I ignored the question because I was fucking tired of having to talk about eating and cooking and food all the time. "Thanks for coming to see me. I'll see you tomorrow, Edward." I popped open the door and moved to get out, but his finger caught mine. I stilled and swallowed hard, but I didn't look at him. If I did, he'd break something within me and I didn't want to feel it. I didn't know if I could handle anything else breaking inside of me. Especially after I'd worked so hard to not have anything left to break. "I have to go, Edward." "D-d-don't be mmmmad." "I'll see you Monday." I walked back into the store and clocked back in, incredibly ready for the fucking day to be over. Jessica Stanley was standing next to her register and I nodded a hello to her. I wanted to pull her stupid fucking hair out and ask her what the fuck she had that I didn't in order to get Edward to fucking touch her. Well, Edward touched me, but he mainly focused on my hands and, much to my displeasure, my face, while never going near all the good parts. "You and Edward, huh?" I stopped my movement and regarded her. She wasn't a bad person and it wasn't that I didn't like her, but I wasn't sure I could ever spend much time with her. "Yeah. We hang out." I took a deep breath and moved to stand closer to her. "So you've fucked him, right?" The smile she wore made my fist want to break her face. "Yeah." "So what's up with that?" I asked, even though I wasn't quite sure I wanted to know. "You want to know?" "Did I not just ask about it, Jess?" She smiled and moved toward me as if she was going to spill some deep secret that no one else could know. "It was freshman year and there was a big bonfire at the beach, right at the beginning of the year. And he was there, which was odd because since he came to Forks, I used to only see him at

school and occasionally I'd see him with Alice at the store or whatever." As fascinating as that was, I just wanted to know about the fucking. I cocked an eyebrow. "And he was pretty much glued to Alice the whole night, except when she went off with Jasper. And Lauren kept talking about Edward being gay and I was like, 'no way' and she was all, 'he's totally gay,' and I told her to prove it, and she told me to prove that he wasn't and so I did." My teeth ground together. "And?" "And he smoked a little pot and I could tell he fucking hated every second of it and then I jumped him. He's got nice lips." Well, fuck. I fucking knew his lips were nice. "And?" "What? You want the blow by blow?" "No pun intended, I imagine." Jessica chuckled but shook her head. "He didn't want me to, so I didn't go down on him." Thank the FSM. "But he did go down on me and it was fucking hot. He's, like, really skilled at it. I mean, I was a freshman and all, so it wasn't like I had a lot to go on, but it was really, really good." I was pissed. I didn't really care that Edward had done those things, but more that he had done those things with Jessica and now refused to do them with me. It was confusing and it pissed me right the fuck off. "He said he was a virgin, but he was a skilled virgin." I was getting pretty fucking annoyed, so I asked, "Did he fuck you or not?" She licked her lips and I swear there was a twinkle in her eye. "Yes, Bella, his dick was in me. He's got a lot of stamina too." I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. "I've got to go put fucking Santa up on the goddamn shelves." As I walked away, I ignored her when she told me to have fun. I worked in silence for nearly forty-five minutes until Riley tossed several bags of tinsel at me. I looked up, and tried to pull myself out of my head. All I kept thinking about was not being able to fuck Edward and the fact that I was completely sober. "What?" Riley shook his head, but kept the smile on his face. "You're all anti-social now. Quit fuming about whatever's going on in that head of yours and talk to me again." I sucked in a deep breath, stood up a little straighter, and blinked. My hands were occupied straightening the ceramic angels on the shelf and I wished my mind was also blissfully occupied with something other than the image of Edward fucking Jessica on the beach. "Was that your boyfriend?" "Um," I said brilliantly. Was he my boyfriend or did we just hang out? I would have thought that being someone's girlfriend entitled me to dick benefits, but I didn't know what the fuck I was with Edward and at some point I would have to ask or define it myself.

If I didn't want to be anyone's girlfriend, could he really be called my boyfriend and everything aside, did I want him to have a title like that? And what the fuck did all that boyfriend-girlfriend shit mean anyway? But I couldn't think of any other way to define what Edward was to me. Friend was too cheap of a word and he certainly wasn't just someone I fucked. "Yeah," I answered in a breath, "I guess so." ...

Chapter 40: Where the Day Had Gone Bella I didn't even bother pretending like I wasn't going to get high Monday morning. Sunday night was fucking horrible and I'd had way too many thoughts. So this morning, getting high was my first priority. I woke up a little late, so my time with Charlie was limited to roughly ten minutes. Once the cruiser had pulled out of the driveway, I was out on the side porch, putting flame to the pipe. I called Tyler after and told him to bring some of his shit to school and that I'd talk to him before first period. There was a part of me that felt horrible because Edward would hate that I was getting high again, but a bigger part of me didn't necessarily care. I liked getting high. And no matter how much I'd like to change myself to be perfect for him, there was no way I would ever be what he deserved. Every time I tried not to get high, something happened and I couldn't do it. Yesterday, I only did it one time before work, and then Edward had replaced my mid-shift smoke. I didn't smoke again until that man's face appeared as I closed my eyes to sleep. I took a couple of puffs out the window and it made my mind all warm and soft again. That man was still in my head, but his face was fuzzy and his voice was distorted until it was simply background noise. So I didn't really feel like there was anything to make me keep pretending I wasn't going to get high today, because all signs pointed to intoxication in one form or another. Edward picked me up as had become his habit. He was wearing his faded jeans and a plain gray t-shirt that I could just barely see through the v at the neck of his coat. He looked so fucking hot. His hair was all arranged this way and that. He had taken off his hat and it lay on his lap. His cheeks and nose were slightly reddened from the cold. "Hey," I said by way of greeting. He seemed relieved. I wondered if he thought I was going to keep holding on to what happened in the car. I'd hoped that he wouldn't think that of me. I was pretty good at just boxing that kind of disappointment shit up and tucking it away somewhere to be dealt with at a later date. Or not at all. "H-hhhhhhey, B-Bella." I was silent on the ride to school. I could tell that my silence was making him nervous, but I couldn't help it. I kept thinking about him going down on Jessica Stanley. The thought of Edward going down on almost anyone was fucking hot, but why did he have to pick Jessica fucking Stanley? And why couldn't he ever feign interest in doing that to me? Before I could get out of the car, he asked, "W-w-why did you get hhhhigh this m-morning, B-Bella?" I was tired of explaining myself to everyone. Renee never wanted me to explain every fucking thing I did. She rarely even gave me a chance. "Because I wanted to."

"W-w-why?" "I have to go get my books for first period." "D-don't go to the w-w-woods w-with J-J-J-J" I looked at him. As much as I just wanted to be soft and kind and loving and shit with him, every little thing was annoying today. Edward telling me not to get high pissed me off. I could get high if I fucking wanted to and I did want to. It didn't dawn on me that today was Edward's first day back after redefining his status last Monday by beating Newton to a bloody stump, until I was out in the woods with Jacob, getting blazed. He snubbed out the roach and replaced his lighter in his pocket. His hand traveled up the inside of my thigh and I quickly pushed his hand away. "Jesus Christ, Bella, you've got to be done with that shit by now," he said, obviously thinking that I was still on my fake period. "I'm not going to fuck you anymore, Jacob, so just stop." "What?" I shrugged and moved away. I wasn't entirely excited about this conversation. He'd already shown me that he felt more for me than I felt for him and I had no clue how he would react. "I don't want to fuck you anymore." I could practically feel the air change around him. "What? Why? Because of Edward fucking Cullen?" "No," I denied quickly, "because I know you keep thinking that someday I'll be your girlfriend and hold your hand and shit, but that's not going to happen, Jake, ever." His eyes narrowed and his right hand moved to cover his heart, as if I had actually wounded it. "But you can hold hands with Cullen?" My eyes went wide before I could stop myself. "I'm not fucking stupid, Bella." I sighed, because I knew he wasn't stupid and I hadn't been exactly discreet with my crush on Edward, at least not with Jacob. Maybe I should have done this a little better. I knew he was nursing feelings for me, but I opted to ignore it. Now Jacob was hurt. I didn't know how to handle this shit. It was stupid to have to fucking care about Jacob's feelings. I'd told him that I wasn't interested in that shit the first fucking day. I was truly torn. My instinct was to be the biggest bitch I could be to make sure he fucking knew that I wasn't good for him and that I was done with it. But I didn't really want to. I didn't want to hurt Jake. I was entirely too confused. "I'm sorry if you thought we had more, but we were just fucking, Jacob. And if it's worth anything, I kind of think of you as a friend. I'm just not interested in anything more." "And now you don't want to fuck?" I shook my head. "Well, shit." I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder as I shrugged. "I'm trying something new." "Are you still going to smoke? The Cullens don't like" "Yeah, I don't know, Jake. Like I said, I'm trying new shit. I have no fucking clue what'll happen." I turned to go because I was pretty much done with the whole conversation. It had gone better than I had anticipated and I wanted to end it now and get away from it completely, but his hand wrapped around my wrist and stopped me. Dirty breath in my ear that didn't belong to Jacob sent chills down my spine that weren't caused by the

winter climate. Bella, be my dirty girl. "Fuck," I breathed out, twirling around, pulling my wrist back as my other hand shot out and pushed at his stomach. I pushed and pulled so hard that I fell backwards onto my ass. "Shit." I should have been high enough to stomp that shit in my head out, but his disgusting voice broke through the pot's numbing waves. "Jesus, Bella, I wasn't going to hurt you," Jake said as he leaned down and offered me a hand back up. I didn't take his hand, but I did stand up and when I came face-to-face with him, I saw him eyeing me cautiously. "Newton's back today," he said as he followed me out of the woods. "So?" "What the fuck did he do to you at that party?" I stopped, but didn't turn around. "Nothing." "Like I just said, Bella, I'm not fucking stupid. I know something fucked up happened because you were all fucking weird. And then Cullen beat the shit out of him last week. Newton's fucked with Cullen since they moved here and Cullen's never said a word and then suddenly he breaks Mike's face with his fists? And now you're not fucking me and riding to school with him every day. I'm not fucking stupid," he repeated for a third time. "It doesn't fucking matter what happened with Newton, Jake." I made my feet move again. There was only a minute or two before first bell. I felt his hand wrap around my upper arm to stop me. "Bella." I spun around and pushed him. "Stop fucking grabbing me." His hands fell to his sides just as his face fell like someone he loved just died. "I would never hurt you, Bella. Why do you always act like I will?" I wrapped my arms around myself and I ignored his question. Jacob had a right to have his questions answered because regardless of how I felt about his feelings toward me, I knew I was to blame for them. But I couldn't give him the answer he deserved. Even though I knew Jake wasn't the type, it wasn't easy to let my basic belief that if given the chance everyone would hurt me go. For whatever reason, I actually really trusted Jake and I did think of him as a friend. But grabbing hands and dirty words would never allow me to be completely comfortable with him. ... The rest of Monday passed just fine, except that instead of Edward eating dinner at my house, I had to make it at his. Dr. Hale and Charlie thought it was a lovely night for a forced family therapy session. I cooked quickly, but I made sure to go slow enough for Edward to see how to prepare a good pasta dish. I made sure he saw how long to cook the pasta and how to sweat some onions and garlic. He needed to know how to cook for himself. He was being naive if he thought that there would be someone to do it for him for the rest of his life. As I cooked, I wondered what else Edward didn't know how to do for himself. Did he do his own laundry? Did he know how to properly clean the bathroom? What if he mixed the wrong chemicals? He could die. But as I sat down in the chair in Dr. Cullen's home office, I remembered that Edward was intelligent enough not to do something stupid like that. Still, I would have to find out, because if not, he would need to learn. Dr. Hale looked at Charlie and folded her hands in her lap. Charlie fidgeted in his seat.

"Charlie, I feel that you and Bella haven't been able to communicate and I wanted to see if I could help with that. It's important to Bella's well-being to have a safe forum to bring up some of the things that might be painful to discuss with you." She turned to me. "Is there anything you want to talk about first?" My whole body tensed because I did not want to talk about anything with Charlie. We were doing just fine with him saying 'good morning' and me saying 'hey' every day. We didn't need to change anything by actually talking. I shook my head and she turned to Charlie. "Charlie?" He looked away, smoothed down his mustache with his index finger and sighed heavily. "I don't know what to talk about." "Why don't you start with addressing some of the things you spoke to me about yesterday." Again, he sighed. "I don't want you to smoke pot anymore, Bella." My eyes widened and the air escaped my lungs, leaving me slightly breathless. "Don't act shocked. I'm the Chief of Police, I know what pot smells like and I don't appreciate it being in my house." "Charlie, that's not exactly how we wanted to broach that subject, but now that it's out there" Dr. Hale said as she turned to me. "I think that you are probably not just a recreational marijuana user, Bella. I feel that it's time to address some of the reasons why you use." Although my mind raced, my mouth quickly said the first and easiest thing. "I'll stop." Charlie straightened in his seat. "There's a good treatment facility in Seattle that specializes in" "What?" I sputtered, looking at him like he was crazy. "I'm not going to rehab for smoking pot. That's bullshit!" Dr. Hale just looked at me as if she knew that I didn't just smoke pot. "Your father is very concerned about you." I looked back at Charlie. What the fuck? "Don't look at me like that." His voice was quiet. "How the fuck should I look at you then? You're a fucking stranger who's basically saying that you want to send me away. You could have just said 'don't do it in my house,' you fuck." His fingers tightened around the arm of the chair. "I don't want you doing it outside of my house either and I don't want to send you away, Bella. I just got you back." "Fuck you," I practically shouted. "You say that you just got me back like you wanted me or something. I was sitting in the room when she called you. I could tell that you didn't fucking want to take me." He leaned forward and glanced at Dr. Hale, who nodded to him, and then back to me. "I was shocked. I hadn't seen you in years and then your mom calls up and tells me that I have to take you or you go to jail! How should I have reacted? I mean" "You should have told her that you weren't fucking interested! You should have told her the fucking truth. You didn't want me when I was a baby and you don't want me now and it's cool, Charlie, but don't fucking pretend that you" "I loved you, Bella. I loved you then and I love you now. You have no idea how happy I was when your mother told me she was pregnant. I didn't care that I was eighteen. I wanted a family. "It wasn't my choice for your mother to take you from me. I came home from work to an empty house. All her stuff was just gone. All your stuff was gone. You were gone. Everything but your crib and rocking chair were just gone. The only reason she left those, I suspect, is because they were too heavy for her. "It took me three months to even find out where she had taken you and the only reason I did was

because of the divorce paperwork." Charlie ran a hand through his hair and then smoothed down his mustache again. I turned my head because I was tired of looking at him. "I'm sorry that I wasn't a better father for you, but by the time I finally got visitation rights, you weren't a baby anymore. You were a little girl and I thought little girls needed their mothers. I didn't" I shook my head. He had no fucking clue. "Just shut up." "See? That right there!" Charlie's voice was so loud that I had to turn look at him. "That's what I'm talking about," he said to Dr. Hale. "I don't understand what I need to do. If I would have told my father to shut up, I wouldn't have been able to sit down for a week." "Then fucking hit me, Charlie! Or are you too busy fucking another man's wife to care?" His mouth snapped closed. And while I remembered that I'd fucked another woman's husband, it didn't stop me from condemning him for boning Sue Clearwater. "Yeah, I fucking know," I said in response to his shocked expression. "Know how? Leah told me." Charlie looked down at his lap. "Didn't think she knew, did you? Well, surprise! She knew you were pumping her mom before her dad died. She and Seth aren't stupid, you idiot. Maybe you don't think about how your actions affect other people, especially people who can't change their situation. You can't just go around fucking people's mothers without there being" I trailed off, a little out of breath from my outburst. "For someone who lives in a glass house, you sure do like to throw stones, Bella." I ignored him. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe Leah tried to kill herself because of that shit?" "Harry was one of my best friends. He was sick for a long time and" "I don't want to know why you're fucking her. I don't care." "I'm not fucking her. Harry knew that I loved her and I didn't touch her until" "Until he was too sick to kill you for touching his wife?" "I'm sure it makes no sense to you, but it's not your business. It's not a Leave It To Beaver situation and I'm not perfect, but Harry knew what Sue needed and knew that she stayed with him out of obligation, and not the lovesick need she had for him when they were in high school." "That's fucking sick," I spat. "I don't think this is the most productive use of our time together," Dr. Hale interjected, cutting us both off. "Bella? What is your major complaint about your father's love life?" Oh, fucking yuck. His love life? Whatever. "Maybe he should have tried to be a better father with all the energy he put into someone else's wife!" "I did my best. How was I supposed to know that your mother was" "I told you when I was twelve that I didn't want to go back there, but what did you do? You put me on a fucking plane and sent me back." Charlie looked up at the ceiling while shaking his head. "You didn't tell me why, Bella. I thoughtI thought that you justI mean, how was I supposed to know that your mother wasI had no idea that your mother could hurt you that way" "Just shut up. Just shut the fuck up, and stop talking about shit you clearly have no clue about." "Bella," Dr. Hale said using her 'listen-to-me' voice, "You have to allow your father to speak his mind, just as you speak yours." "Why? He clearly only has bullshit to spew." "What the hell am I suppose to do with that?" he asked. "It's no wonder she's got one foot in jail. She

won't control herself long enough to listen to anything. The only thing she does is hide." I didn't fucking hide. He could go to hell. He was the one who'd hidden in his safe little town for seventeen years. And yeah, maybe he came home to an empty fucking house, but it wasn't like he worked real hard to get me back. "She smokes pot," he turned to me, "and don't think I don't know who the hell is supplying it to you," he turned back to Hale, "and her attitude is for shit." Esme leaned forward. "Charlie, victims of sexual abuse usually" "Sexual abuse?" Charlie yelled as he looked at me like I was just diagnosed with terminal cancer. Dr. Hale looked at me, took a deep breath, and then looked back to Charlie. "Yes. She was raped repeatedly as a child." "Raped? What are you...?" I kept my eyes trained on Hale. The feeling in the room had changed completely. "You didn't tell him?" I gaped at her, I was so surprised. I assumed after that Saturday night by the way he was avoiding me, Charlie was clued in. When she had called me, just to check in with me a few days ago, I had thought that she said she was going to tell him about what happened to me when I was little. Or had she told me that she thought I should tell him? Or had she told me that she was going to tell him when we had our little session together? I couldn't fucking remember. Fuck. I'd been on pain pills during the conversation so who the fuck knew? "Those things aren't mine to tell, Bella. I meant it when I said what we speak about in here stays between the two of us unless it could cause harm to you or someone else. I only said what I did because I thought you wanted me to tell him. I thought we'd discussed this. I apologize for misspeaking." I knew that Dr. Hale was basically handing me the right to be pissed at her. She was saying that she fucked up and shouldn't have said anything until she was sure that Charlie knew by my admission. But I couldn't be mad at her for telling him because I couldn't even remember if the fault was mine or hers and how the hell would I have done it? Answer? I wouldn't have. But now he knew. I looked back at Charlie. He was white as a ghost and his eyes were fixed on the carpet at Dr. Hale's feet. She continued after I remained silent, "But as I was saying, to explain Bella's behavior, victims either internalize the event and become withdrawn, or they go the other route and act out, immersing themselves in the world they perceive as cruel and painful, but protecting themselves with a variety of coping mechanisms that are, more often than not, unhealthy. The severity and length of time of the assault typically correlates with the severity of the reaction." Looking at Charlie, I could tell that he was still stuck on the 'R' word. "Sothat night when I was in your room?" he let his question linger unfinished. I turned my head and laid it on my knees so I wouldn't have to look at him anymore. "And that night in the kitchen when you broke that bowl because I" I felt like I couldn't breathe. I wondered if this was what Edward felt like when he panicked. As hard as I tried, I couldn't keep myself from recognizing the pain in Charlie's voice. I didn't want to recognize it. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to hate him. Who the hell knew how long it was silent in the room before Hale said, "Bella?" I wouldn't look at her. My eyes were watering and I hated that shit. I wondered how long it would be

until I'd be able to get high again. This shit was stupid. "Bella?" If I couldn't get high for a while, I thought about the next best comfort that was available to me. "Can I go see Edward now?" Even though I couldn't see her, I knew she was shaking her head. "We need to talk about this. It's vital and the first step to" "I don't want to talk about it." I had barely finished speaking when Charlie's deep voice broke out over mine. "Why didn't you tell me?" And the anger was back. Lifting my head, I snapped my eyes toward him. "When? All those times you called? The month in the summer you avoided having anything meaningful to say to me? Did you want me to send that shit to you in a birthday card? 'Hey Charlie, Happy Birthday! My mom's boyfriend fucked me again last night. Are the fish biting in Washington? I hope your birthday is real fucking swell.'" I spat the words at him. "Jesus," he said in a harsh exhale when I had said the word 'fucked.' "How long didI mean, when did?" I fucking hated talking about this shit and it was even stupider talking about it with Charlie, but I couldn't help myself. "Eleven. I was fifteen when she broke up with him." "Four years? Bella! You should've" his words stopped right before I could get incredibly pissed. Dr. Hale filled the void. "Why did your mother break up with him?" "I don't want to talk about that with Charlie in the room." "Did she find him with you?" I curled tighter into a ball, my eyes moving to scan the exposed corners of the walls. Dr. Cullen kept a clean office. I wondered if he paid someone to make sure there were no cobwebs or spiders out in the open. "What did she do when she found you with him?" I could feel his hand buried in my hair. I could feel the painful tug as his fingers curled, molding themselves to the back of my head. "Oh, fuck, Bella." He was being loud again because she wasn't home. He liked it when I made noises. He finished quicker when I did, so I made sure to give him what he wanted. "Good girl, Bella, be my dirty girl." But then I gagged and his fingers tightened again. "Bella?" I shook my head, swallowing back the bile that always seemed to rise when I thought about this shit. "What did she do when she found you with him?" she asked again. I felt defeated. "Beat the shit out of me and called me a bunch of names." I finally moved my head, not to look up, but to rest my forehead against my knees. "I couldn't go to school for nearly two weeks. She told them I was visiting Charlie." "What does 'beat the shit' out of you mean?" I felt sick. My stomach hurt and my head was swimming. "You want to know what she did?" "Yes." "I don't want to tell you."

"That bad?" Dr. Hale asked. I shrugged as best as I could in my position. "No worse than usual, justjust more." "You don't want to say?" I sighed. Hadn't I already said that I didn't want to tell her? "Can I go see Edward now?" I looked up at her and I could tell that she was going to say that we needed to 'stick with' it or that we needed to talk more about it. Maybe she was right, but I didn't want to talk about it anymore, even if she and Charlie did. "I'm tired." And it was true. My whole body was sluggish and my mind was no different. I couldn't feel my feet, just as I couldn't access that part of my brain that usually reassured me that I'd be okay. I just wanted to sit in Edward's room and hold his hand. I was so tired that I couldn't even find the energy to be mad at myself for wanting to hold his hand. "I know you're tired, Bella, I understand. But we need to at least finish addressing your drug use because that needs to be dealt with now." I sighed and closed my eyes. "I said I'd stop, okay?" "Is it that easy?" This night kept getting worse and worse. I stood up. "I'm done with this shit." "I can legally check you into rehab against your will," Charlie said. I sat down because I didn't want to get shipped off to rehab. Shaking my head, I ran my hand over my eyes. "I'm not addicted and don't need rehab, so save your fishing money, Charlie." Dr. Hale cleared her throat and I turned to look at her. "Bella, you need to know and understand that using drugs in any form, outside of what a doctor prescribes and monitors, is dangerous. It is not acceptable and will only hinder the healing process." Yeah, I needed to be high for this shit. It was like a whole big roller coaster ride. I mean, not like I'd ever been on one or whatever, but these fucking emotions of mine were all over the place. Anger shifted into guilt easily and annoyance transformed into sadness which then turned back into anger. I hadn't been the one asking for a fucking healing process, for fuck's sake. When I remained silent, Dr. Hale turned to Charlie and said, "Why don't you go home? I'm sure it's been a long day for you. I'll just keep Bella a little longer and have Edward run her home." Charlie spent the next minute just looking at me. I looked everywhere but at him. My hands wrung together of their own accord. A minute was a long fucking time when someone just stared at you. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him finally stand up, his hand moved closer to me. "Bella, I" I pushed back into the chair, my eyes moving from his hand to his eyes, then frantically over to Dr. Hale. "Charlie, you'll need to respect her personal and physical space. Especially when she's in heightened emotional states. A man hurt her and even though it wasn't you, her body and mind have certain automatic responses that she can't necessary control. You'll" I shut my ears off. I was tired and the extreme fatigue anchored me. It was like a sedative. "You did well, Bella. How do you feel?" I looked up. Charlie was gone and it was just me and Dr. Hale. "Like shit." "It's difficult stuff you're pushing through." "It hurts," I admitted, although I still didn't understand how I came to talk to Dr. Hale about this shit.

She gave me a smile that seemed real. "You don't like that, do you?" "What?" "Feeling that hurt." I didn't say anything because sometimes things simply didn't need an answer. "How is your experiment in celibacy going?" "It's frustrating." "But so far you've succeeded?" "I haven't fucked anyone." Not that it was her business. "Will you tell me about the first time you got high, Bella?" At first I nearly panicked because I thought that maybe Edward had told her, but then I realized that Edward would never tell her something like that. But I didn't want to cover that ground again. "Not tonight." "Will you tell me about the first time you had sex with someone other than Renee's boyfriend?" I shook my head. "I'm tired." "Pick one of the two questions and answer it, then you can go see Edward for a little bit before you go home." As much as I wanted to think that Dr. Hale was a moron who was incompetent at her chosen occupation, I couldn't. She was actually pretty damn good because she used the fact that I wanted to see Edward to her advantage. Therapists were nothing more than master manipulators, and Dr. Hale was pretty masterful. At this point, I would have told her whatever story she wanted just to get out of that room and into Edward's. "He was" Before I could even really start, she interrupted me. "Who's 'he'?" "Renee's boyfriend." He had a name, but I didn't use it. "Go on." "He was nicer to me when I did things right. So I learned exactly what he wanted from me. I made sure not to make a mistake. I paid attention and made sure that I," I paused long enough to suck in a deep breath and scan the corner and baseboards for any signs of webbing, "didn't use too much teeth and I touched him the way he liked. It was mechanical and automatic. Then when I was fourteen, there was a boy at school and he was fucking nice-looking and he always treated me nice and so I let him fuck me in his car. It was different than with" I wasn't going to finish that sentence. "This was in high school?" I nodded. It was at the very beginning of my freshman year. "How old was this boy?" "Eighteen." "So you were a fourteen-year-old having sex, willingly, for the first time with an eighteen-year-old young man?" "Yes." Her question was layered with judgment and I was sure she wanted me to grasp some kind of hidden meaning in it. I failed to see what she was driving toward. "Go on. What happened after you had sex with him?" I shook my head. "I had sex with him again and then after awhile he wasn't all that nice to me anymore."

"So what did you get out of that experience?" What the fuck did she mean 'what did I get'? "An orgasm." Dr. Hale sighed. "That's your body's trained response to that sort of stimuli. What did you get emotionally?" "Nothing. Can I go see Edward now because you said that if I answered your question I could go see him." I looked up and saw that she was smiling. "Yes, you can go see Edward now." I stood up and walked to the door. "Bella?" I reluctantly halted. "For Friday, I'd like you to think about what you get emotionally out of sex, and if it's what you'd like to get out of it." I didn't get anything out of sex lately, mainly because I wasn't having sex with anyone other than myself and fingers were pretty emotionally void. I mumbled something about thinking about it before leaving Dr. Cullen's home office and quickly finding my way to Edward's door. I knocked and then smiled when I heard the click of the door being unlocked. "Hi," I said as the door swung open. His eyes scanned my face for a moment and it made me nervous. "You have to take me home in a little bit but we could hang out for" His hand moved to mine and curled loosely around it, really only grasping my fingers. Tugging me gently, he silently told me that it was okay to come in. I heard him close and lock his door behind us as I took in his room to see if there were any changes to it since last time. There were two books sitting on his bed, one of them a Seuss book. I looked from the book back to Edward's face. "Am I keeping you from practicing or whatever?" My hand was still encircled by his and I moved to the bed with him when he did. "I usually t-try to p-p-practice at nnnnight." "I'm sorry," I said immediately, hating that he was changing his normal routine for me. "I'm nnnot. I can p-practice by talking to you." Edward sat down and I did the same. "Are you o-okay?" I scrunched up my face in question and he explained. "Your d-d-d, ffffather yelled." "Oh." I supposed Charlie had been fairly loud. "I d-didn't mean to hear, B-Bella." I shook my head. I couldn't remember what he had said and I didn't know if I should've been embarrassed that Edward heard it. I decided to change the topic to something I'd been thinking about since early this morning. "I'm sorry I didn't go into school with you today, Edward." "What?" His eyes locked with mine and I felt suddenly very exposed. I turned away to glance at his books on the shelf. "I mean, I should've recognized that it might have been hard for you. Your first day back or whatever." He was quiet and so I turned back to him. "Was it? Hard for you?" "It w-w-was okay." Grabbing the green Dr. Seuss book, I absently flipped it over and over in my hands. "I suck at being a friend." Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head and the action hurt. It hurt because he was so incredibly willing to overlook all of my many flaws and I had no idea why someone would do

that. "What's this one about?" I faced him again. I liked looking at him when he spoke. Sometimes he'd look me in the eye when he was speaking and others not. Usually when he wouldn't look at me, he stammered more and was generally more anxious than at other times. I wondered if he noticed that. His eyes started out looking at my chin but then came to rest locked with mine. "There's a c-c-c-c, mm-many different sssstories in it. But the mm-mm-main one is ab-b-bout a turtle w-who w-wants to be k-k-k-k" His eyes shut tight and his hands balled up as tightly as his bandages would allow as he struggled with the hard 'k' sound. I hated seeing him like that and yet I could not look away. His effort to speak was fascinating because I would have given up a long time ago. Maybe he didn't try this hard for other people, but he always tried with me. Contact usually seemed to help him, so I put the book down and took his hand in mine, absently letting my thumb stroke over his knuckles. "k-king of all he sssssaw." I tried to let the sound of his voice soothe me. I wanted to be high, but I was happy that at least I was with Edward. I didn't want to go back to Charlie's. Even now that my room was a soothing shade of blue, I wasn't comfortable. Maybe it wasn't Edward's room that I found so comfortable. Maybe it was Edward. "So he was a king? And then what?" I didn't give a shit about turtle kings, but he said that talking with me was like practicing and while I didn't mind his stutter, he seemed like he really wanted it to get better. Plus, I wanted to hear him talk and I was too drained to hold much of a conversation. So as he told me about stacking turtles and shit, I leaned into him and allowed his voice and body to relax my body and mind, creating a lovely calm. It was like a sedative. My breathing slowed. I wasn't listening to the words he was saying. I was just hearing the melodic sounds of his velvety, musical voice. Even with the stops and starts and stuttering sounds, his voice was like chemicals in my veins. I hadn't even realized that my head was on his shoulder, my body slumped against him. He was warm. He was like the sun. It was incredibly cold outside and I missed the Phoenix sun. It was comforting, and every time it got too cold inside, I sat outside in the heat until every bit of me felt better. Edward was like the sun. Edward was comfort. But then the room was dark and I felt his hand on my cheek, his thumb stroking underneath my eye. I could feel the sting of his touch down to the bone. I felt it creep into me like poison. It kept me from breathing right, thinking right and being right. Oh, fuck, Bella, be my dirty girl. My eyes popped open as my own gasp shocked me. "Fuck!" I said. I found myself falling as I shoved away from Edward. I had fallen asleep on him. His hands shot out and he caught me before I tumbled off his bed. But I hated being grabbed so once I was stable on the bed next to him, I stole my arms back, my wrists still slightly burning from his fingers. My hands balled up forcing my fingernails to dig into the meat of my palms. The sharpness of the sting gave me something to focus on.

I stood up and pulled my hair to one side for a moment before letting go of it. I spotted the green rock on his shelf. I'd brought it back today with the intention of leaving it here, but my feet carried me to it and my hand grabbed it quickly. "Are you o-okay?" With a deep breath, I turned around. "I'mgreat." Just like the sun, he was difficult to look at. He was absolutely beautiful. I averted my eyes but held out my closed hand. "I'm taking this rock, just so you know." "O-okay." "Next time just let me fall." "No." I looked at him again and just like always when he looked at me like that, he made me want to cry. "Will you take me home, please?" ... I woke up on Tuesday having roughly two hours of sleep and I was pissed off. Last night, not only did I have to talk about fucking rehab with Charlie and Hale, but I fell asleep on Edward and looked a like a total fucking ass when I nearly fell off the bed. Then I'd been plagued with thoughts about shit that I didn't want to think about. Again. Fucking Charlie cooked me stupid breakfast. Like oatmeal and blueberries would make him a good father. I burned myself on the motherfucking coffee pot again and almost broke the carafe right there. Charlie fucking watched as I took my blood sugar, his brow all creased as if he were really interested. My fucking bag caught on something sharp on Charlie's stupid front door. The front pocket ripped about a half-inch. Just enough to piss me off, but not enough to warrant a new bag. I forgot my hat, so after motioning to Edward that I'd be just a minute, I went to get it. Coming back out, my gloves caught the same sharp thing and snagged. By the time I got in the car, I was ready to smoke a blunt and pop some Vicodin. But Charlie and Dr. Hale had been serious when they pulled out that shit about rehab and Charlie was pretty adamant that he knew I was smoking pot, so I needed to stick with the shit that didn't smell and traces of it would be out of my system in a day or so. But I couldn't just go off looking for Tyler and leave Edward to walk into school again by himself. I felt bad about yesterday, so I had to make sure that I didn't fuck it up today too. I got out of the car after he parked and waited until he got out too. The shock on his face when he saw that I had waited hurt me, because I knew that I had hurt him by not doing this sooner. And I didn't want to hurt him. So we walked into school together. It really wasn't a big deal but it felt fucking weird. And the people looking at us were pissing me off. I knew it was only like two people, but still. Edward's locker was on the other side of the building and usually we passed each other going to first period, so I knew that his first class was somewhere nearby. I had to go left to get to my locker, so this was as good of place as any to part. "I'll see you in Bio." His feet stopped just as mine did. "W-w-will you ssssit w-with me at lunch?" I took in a breath. Mike Newton was back in school and I couldn't very well sit at the same table as that

asshole anymore, but I wasn't exactly thrilled about sitting with Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie and Alice. That seemed like a lot of pressure and I didn't know them. I knew Alice, but the others were just "Fine," I agreed even though I would rather not sit with anyone at all. "Sssee you at lunch then." I turned to the left and headed to my locker. I grew more and more uneasy about the prospect of sitting with Edward at lunch. I wanted to, but at the same time, I really, really didn't. Before I got to my locker, an arm slipped around my torso and I gasped as I felt myself being drawn close to someone's body. For a split second I froze, unable to even breathe. That moment felt so very, very long. "Bella," I heard in my ear and I let out a breath of relief. It wasn't the voice I normally heard. I twisted in his hold and pushed him back. "Don't grab me, Tyler." He smiled at me and removed his arm from my body. I stepped away and went to my locker. "Do you have pills on you?" He leaned against the locker next to mine and smiled. "Somehow I figured you might want some, so I brought a couple with me. Do you have money?" I sighed. "Yes." Tyler's hand extended and pressed against my breast, his eyes lustful. Moving away quickly, I grabbed my books and shut my locker. "Well, are you going to sell them to me or not?" When I looked at him, he was smiling. "I've got some new shit too. You'll like it." He opened his hand to reveal a small bag of white fluffy powder. "It's a blend." I didn't even care what it was a blend of, the majority of me wanted to snatch that little bag out of his hands immediately and inhale it as fast as I could. But I didn't. "I just want the pills, Tyler." His hand closed and his smile shifted into a smirk. "Alright. I was going to let you try it but since you're not interested" "Maybe another time." Shifting on my feet, I hoisted my bag up onto my shoulder. "Can I get those pills now?" We went to the most sparsely populated hall in the building and he sold me six Hydrocodone for twenty-five dollars. Before he walked away, he offered his new stuff to me again, but I declined once more and made my way through the school in anticipation of the first bell. I could pop a pill in first period. Some stupid fucking freshmen boys were being loud and obnoxious in the hall and I just wanted to get to my class. My mind was preoccupied, trying to figure out how I could make phantom voices and touches go away when I felt something very much corporeal palming my ass. I spun around and one of the freshmen, a tall, skinny kid, was just standing there, a dopey smile on his face, his dick clearly fucking half-hard in his jeans. "What the fuck?" "Sorry, I didn't know." He grabbed his crotch and adjusted himself. My eyes narrowed. "Didn't know what? That your fucking hand was on my ass or that you were a complete fucking waste who'll never get pussy acting like that?" The fuckstick beamed. "I didn't think you'd mind. Mike Newton told everyone that you like it dirty. I figured you" His mouth kept talking but my brain froze just as my body did.

Hot breath in my ear made me feel nauseous. The feeling of fingers on my face, a thumb in my mouth nearly dropped me right there. That's it, Bella, be dirty for me. Even though my eyes saw the freshman's hand move toward me, I was powerless to stop it. But then he was gone and there was a loud noise to my right. My body finally complied with my brain's order to move, and I turned to see what it was. I felt total confusion at the scene before me because it was so out of the ordinary that I had to be dreaming this shit up. I could see the back of Edward's gray t-shirt as he held the kid against the locker by the neck with his forearm. The muscles of his arms were incredibly strained and it took me a moment to process what the fuck was happening. But once I did, my feet propelled me to stand next to Edward. He looked like he could have killed that boy right there. One of my hands moved to his bicep as the other touched his shoulder. "Edward, stop," I said quietly. Nothing good would come from Edward hurting that kid, as much as I wanted him to. If he got caught beating someone else up, he'd probably get expelled, if not worse. His jaw was clenched tightly, but I felt the muscles under my hands release just slightly. It was enough for the boy to sneak away, rubbing his neck. Edward stood there paralyzed for a long time, even after the bell rang. Body shaking, chest heaving, Edward looked lost. The hall was empty now. As my hands moved to hold his, I absently wondered if his broken fingers felt any better. "Edward," I whispered after long moments of silence. Finally he turned to me, sucking in a long but stunted breath. "O-o-okay?" I took a step back, my hands falling away from him. "I'm fine. How about you?" I regarded him carefully as I remembered how he had been looking at that boy. Edward was looking at my hand. He nodded. Moments later, he grabbed it gently, only holding onto my smallest finger. He began to walk, leading me to my first period classroom. Just outside the door, he stopped, brought his hand to my neck, swept away the hair, and brushed his thumb over the four small indentations on my neck. "D-don't get hhhigh today, o-okay?" I found myself nodding. Edward smiled again and brushed my scar one more time and then he was gone. I tried not wanting to get high. I tried not getting high. Somehow I fell asleep in first period and woke with a start. Nothing went right for the rest of the day. I spilled chemicals all over the dark room in Photography. I said shit all wrong in Spanish and I fell asleep again in Calculus. I really needed to fucking sleep, just not at school, and definitely not sober. At lunch, I stood outside the cafeteria, my heart racing as I tried to think of a way to keep my promise to Edward, but still block the assault of emotions that was pummeling me. I couldn't bring myself to enter the cafeteria and I hated myself for it. Edward was expecting me to sit with him. The fucking pills in my pocket were calling me, tempting me, burning me with the calm, the peace, the numbness they offered. I kind of sank down onto the floor and just sat there. I felt like shit. Like complete shit. I fucking told him that I would sit with him and then I couldn't even go in there. He'd think this was about him like he always did and maybe it was, I didn't fucking know.

I'd told Riley that Edward was my fucking boyfriend. What the fuck was that? And he was going to give me that look and it was going to make me feel even worse because Edward didn't deserve this shit. I should've been able to go in there and sit with him and not give a shit about anything because at least he was there with me. But the shit was just too crazy inside my head. This day was for shit and I just wanted to get high. But I made a motherfucking promise to Edward fucking Cullen that I didn't want to fucking break. It pissed me off. I moved toward Mr. Banner's classroom, but got sidetracked by my body getting all jittery and nervous. I wanted to go back to Charlie's and sleep. I barely made it to the bathroom, I threw up. It was nothing but bile since I atenext to nothing for breakfast this morning. The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Splashing water on my face and drying it with a thin, brown paper towel, I looked at myself in the mirror. Unlike Angela, whose mind distorted the image that she saw, I could see myself perfectly and I hated my reflection. My collar bone stuck out oddly on one side. My bottom lip was just a little too full. The knuckles of my fingers were too big, my eyes too hollow. Was there even a person left inside this warped body? I stared at my eyes, but I couldn't do it for long. I let my gaze drop and examined at my cheekbone. Then I felt ghost touches and I pinched my eyes closed. I could smell his breath and taste his skin and if I had anything left in my stomach, I would have thrown up again. I forced my eyes open, and washed my hands very thoroughly before exiting the bathroom. There was commotion in the hall and all I wanted to do was get to class. Edward would be there and I would see his wounded puppy face and I would say sorry and he would make it better for me. I was short and the crowd of people was tall, so I had no idea what the hell was happening, although based on the response and the cheers, people were fighting. I spun when I felt someone touch my shoulder and instinctively, I pushed whoever it was away. But a finger curled around mine and I took a deep breath, looking up to find Edward and his creased brow. Just like before when looking into my own eyes, I couldn't look at him for long. "Sorry," I mumbled. Someone pushed against my back, sending me closer to Edward and I found myself in his arms. My head pressed against his chest, I breathed him in. It took a long a minute for me to remember that we were in school and there were people all around us. Suddenly I remembered the commotion. "What's going on?" I asked as I stepped back from Edward. He held onto my pinkie finger with his index finger, tethering me to him. I watched his eyes flick upwards. Edward was tall, not as tall as Jasper or Emmett, but tall enough to see over most of us vertically-challenged people. "J-J-J-J-Jacob," he said and then his words stopped as his cheeks sort of ballooned out and his face grew red. His lips pursed together and my heart ached for him even as it ached more than enough for myself. After a few seconds, Edward was able to continue. "M-M-Mike." "Jacob and Mike?" I turned toward the commotion as if I was going to be able to see anything. "They're fighting?" He tugged on my pinkie and we moved away from the crowd. He led me around, taking me another, much quieter way to Mr. Banner's classroom. Once inside and seated at our table, Edward asked, "O-o-okay?"

I looked away because his beautiful concern was too much. He didn't ask about lunch and the fact that he didn't made me feel like shit. I knew he wanted, but he kept his questions about my whereabouts to himself. So far, I had kept my promise, but I wanted to get high so fucking badly. I could literally fucking feel those fucking pills in my pocket. And while it was comforting to know that they were there if I absolutely needed them, I hated them, just as I hated myself. They were such a temptation, and I felt myself losing my very thin thread of willpower. It wasn't fucking fair that he asked me not to get high today. This shit in my head was hurting and I didn't want to feel it. The day had been shit. First the breakfast with Charlie all fucking blueberries and burnt hands on the coffee pot, then ripping my bag and snagging my fucking gloves. And Tyler's hand on my tit and that boy's hand on my ass. And his fucking voice in my head, whispering things I didn't want to hear. I was angry at this whole stupid thing. There was no reason for me not to be high right now. Edward and his stupid fucking concern pissed me off. I shouldn't have been concerned with his feelings. I had fucked this whole move to Forks all up. I wasn't supposed to be surrounded by people who gave two shits about what I did and I certainly wasn't supposed to be all wrapped up in some guy and his emotions. The disappointment that I knew he would inevitably feel hurt me. It wounded me and yet at the same time it stoked the fire within me and made me angrier. This shit was stupid. I could be high, but I wasn't. I was fucking sober sitting next to Edward and waiting for class to start and hoping that somehow that stupid voice would shut the fuck up, because I didn't want to be called a dirty girl right now. I put my head down on the cold Formica table, extending my arms and wrapping my fingers around the front edge of the table. I felt sick. "B-B-Bella?" I ignored him because I didn't want to fucking talk to him right now. I wasn't fucking okay and I didn't want to see his puppy face when I said that I wanted to get high. I could hear Mr. Banner's voice and I took a deep breath. You're such a dirty girl, Bella. Show me how dirty you can be and I won't tell your mother. My eyes popped open and I sat up straight. My stomach lurched within me. I felt something warm wrap around my left hand and I looked down. Edward was holding it. I still couldn't look at him, but I squeezed his hand because this shit hurt. I was supposed to go to P.E. but when Edward turned toward the Administrative office, giving me a small lopsided smile as he went, I felt sick again. And then I saw Tyler and somehow I made my way to the boy's bathroom with him. I hated the smell of men's bathrooms. There was nothing nastier than the smell of that urinal cake mixed with the pheromones of multiple men's piss. But once inside the stall, he took the long pointed stick of a pen cap and dipped it into the white powder and then held it out to me. "That's my girl!" he exclaimed as I snorted it. It grew dark around me. Be my beautiful, dirty girl. Don't start that shit, Bella. Don't make me tell your mother. And then the head rush kicked in and I leaned my head back against the red metal wall. That was better. I couldn't feel that shit in my head seeping out and tainting my muscles and bone, instead I felt

the rush of whatever the hell I'd just inhaled. Tyler pressed himself against me like I was going to fuck him in this bathroom that smelled like piss and shit. Maybe some other day I would have, but I just wanted to buy more of that shit and not be touched by him. Languidly, I pushed him back. "How much will forty bucks buy?" Tyler's mouth attached to my neck, his hand moving to cup between my legs. "Not much, but I can front you some." I was confused because Tyler never fronted me anything since that first time I bought coke from him. I was also confused because he was rubbing me through my jeans and while it felt good, something inside my slow, yet speeding brain was yelling at me that it was wrong. "How much will you front me? I don't get paid until" "Suck my dick, Bella, and I'll front you a gram." My fingers curled until my hands were fisted as Tyler's hands moved up and tightened on my shoulders and he pushed down. I pushed back with my closed hands on his chest. "Just give me forty bucks worth, Tyler." My voice shook and I just wanted him to give me the shit and go away. I didn't want to be in this smelly bathroom with him. He pressed in again, his mouth moving closer to mine. I didn't want to kiss him. I turned my head, and pushed at him again. "I'm not going to fuck you, Tyler." Tyler's tongue swept out across my neck and I shivered. My body responded even though I didn't want it to. I pressed at him again and he moved back. "If I fucked you in the bathroom would Cullen kick my ass too?" I shoved my hand in my pocket and I wanted to wrap it around that green rock I fucking carried around now, but I pulled out the rest of my money. "Just give me that fucking shit, Tyler." Finally, he backed off of me and set about getting my shit ready. It wasn't but a moment after he left the stall and I heard the bathroom door open and close when I snorted every last spec of what he left. And just moments after that, I was sitting on the dirty fucking floor in the smelly, nasty boy's bathroom, shivering. ... "W-what did you t-t-take?" I swayed a little bit. "I was being good, Edward." He kept looking at me, waiting for me to answer his question, but I couldn't remember the answer. I couldn't focus. "I shouldn't haveI don't know wh y I did." "W-what did you t-take?" I thought for a moment, my eyes darting around the parking lot quickly, not focusing on any one thing. My nose itched. I'd snorted whatever it was, but all I could remember was Tyler stopping me in the hall and showing me his new shit. I'd said that I wasn't interested, but then what? But then I kept hearing his voice, remembering his smell. He told me that I was so beautiful and that if I would just stop moving away, it wouldn't hurt as much. And I didn't want to hear it any more. I didn't want to see him when I closed my eyes. I didn't want to feel it, especially when I was sitting next to Edward during Biology. So I found Tyler during last period and he let me try some and then I bought some and then I snorted it in the bathroom and felt guilty about it. I had known that Edward would be so disappointed. I didn't want to disappoint him but immediately

after I'd snorted it, I knew he would be. I sat in that bathroom stall with stupid tears leaking from my eyes until the final bell rang. By that time, my legs tingled and I was shaking. "B-Bella?" "I don't know." "W-w-why did you, B-Bella? Did I do ssssomething to" "No!" I tightened my hold on his arm. Why did he always have to take things so personally? This wasn't about him at all. This was about my fucked up brain and its stupid fucking need to make shit go away. Edward's arm, the one I wasn't grasping, moved. He reached out to brush a stray lock of my hair off of my forehead and I flinched. "I'm sorry." I let go of his arm and grabbed his hand before he could drop it back down to his side. I squeezed it tightly. "I won't do it again." I shivered again and the fear that Edward would see and know the truth about me assaulted me from the inside. He would leave. I wasn't able to keep my word to him. I was horrible. I was bad. I wasn't worthy. "I'm sorry. Don't leave. I'll be good, I swear. I won't do it again! I promise, I won't. Just don't" My mouth kept spouting stuff like that while my mind ran away from me, hating Edward's expression. My mind kept telling me that I didn't deserve him and the look on his face was proof enough. But as my mouth kept promising that I'd do better, that I'd be better, and my mind kept telling me that I never would do better and I'd never deserve Edward, he opened up his arms and pulled me to him. I couldn't fucking think straight but his arms and body felt so good. I had no idea where the day had gone. ...

Chapter 41: Three Little Words Edward She was so incredibly high and couldn't tell me what she was on. I nearly panicked but her frantic pleas calmed me, oddly enough. Her nearly hysterical rambling and confusion reminded me of Alice. So I pulled Bella to me, hugging her close in the middle of the school parking lot while straggling students walked past, not even bothering to pretend not to stare. Bella clung to me and I let her for many reasons. First, it was incredibly cold and I didn't know where her coat and hat were, but they definitely weren't on her. Second, I liked the feel of her so close to me, and third, she was so high that I was frightened for her. She didn't look right, she wasn't acting right and she couldn't speak right. I thought that she'd gone to her last class when I headed to see Ms. Rice. After painstakingly making it half-way through Green Eggs and Ham, I waited for Bella by her locker, but she never showed up. I checked by the gym and she wasn't there. Then I checked in the library, but the only person in there was Mrs. Peters. Finally I went outside and found her standing in the middle of the parking lot looking around as if she didn't know how she got there. I raced over.

"Edward! I found you." She wiped her nose with the heel of her hand as she bounced with chemical energy, "I thought I was lost." She was babbling, saying she didn't know what got her to this point or why she'd gone so far. Although she said that she hadn't meant to get high, and was trying to be good, I had no idea how someone could not mean to get high. Especially not that high. But she just kept saying she was sorry, that she was trying to be good, and I'd never seen her this bad before. So now, as I held her to me, feeling her shaking and knowing that it wasn't just the cold that was giving her chills, I pressed my lips to the top of her head and my thumb automatically swept across the four raised points of her fork scar. "B-Bella, where's your c-coat?" It took a few seconds before she mumbled something into to my chest, her arms tightening around me. I moved the hand that rested on her shoulder to tilt her chin up and tried to look into her eyes. Raising an eyebrow was all I needed to do to get her to repeat her answer, only this time with more emotion. "I don't know!" She broke out in sobs and once again pressed herself into me, burying her face and tears in my coat. "Is it in your l-l-l-llllllocker?" She nodded and I turned us both toward the school, intending for us to retrieve her things, but her legs buckled and I caught her just in time to save her from the pavement. "Don't leave, Edward," she whispered, her words causing dual reactions within me. While I was thrilled that she wanted me around, I was heartbroken that she believed I might actually leave her. She obviously didn't understand that I was probably completely unable to leave her. I didn't think my body would comply even if my brain demanded it. "I-I-I'm not lllllleaving, B-Bella. We need to get your sssssthings." I managed to move us closer to the school. It was difficult since she wasn't really walking on her own and I wasn't outright carrying her. "We ssshould sssee C-Carlisle." Her feet stopped. "No! He's a spy and he'll tell them and they'll send me away, Edward. They'll take me away from you." My muscles tightened at her words. She was probably right. They would probably send her to rehab. The addiction recovery center that Esme liked to use was in Seattle. I didn't want Bella to go to Seattle. "They w-w-w-won't ssssend you aw-w-way, B-B-Bella." She shook her head, obviously not believing me, which was understandable since I didn't believe it either. "Sssstop d-doing d-drugs on your own, B-Bella and they w-won't ssssend you aw-way." I managed to get both of us inside the building and to her locker. Getting the combination for her

padlock would have been hilarious in one of the stupid teen comedy movies Emmett and Alice liked, but it wasn't as much fun in real life. People on drugs shouldn't be asked things like, 'what's your locker combination?' or 'Are you sure it's 25-51-7?' because they have no clue how to access the information locked in their head. Finally, one of the seemingly random series of numbers worked. 18-51-27 was her combination. I committed it to memory in case I should have to use it again, although I hoped that Bella would retain her full faculties from this moment forward. I took her back to my house and we went straight up to my room. I heard Alice say Bella's name as we passed so I hurried us up. She was in no condition to be around people. Once in my room, she sat cross-legged on the couch, her hands clenching and unclenching together while her body rocked. "W-what are you thinking ab-bout?" She looked up at me, her head shaking fast. "Fucking fire ants." I had no idea why she would be thinking about ants. It seemed incredibly bizarre. We were both silent then, her rocking back and forth and me simply watching her. I thought about the past few days. I hadn't known how she would react to me showing up at her work, but I wanted to see her, even if it was just for a minute. Her smile was so beautiful when she turned around and saw me. I loved her smile. I wanted to make her smile all the time. And then I messed everything up in the car. She felt so good sitting on top of me and she was really sexy and I didn't know what to do about it because I wanted her, just like I told her I did. But I knew my limitations. She went away thinking that I didn't want her, which was the farthest thing from the truth. I hated that she thought that because everything I was -my mind, my soul, my body- sang for her. And then on Monday I'd overheard some things during her session with Esme and her father and I wished that I hadn't. I wasn't trying to hear, but her father got loud and at first I was nervous. Loud voices almost never led to anything positive. And then later her father yelled again and I didn't want to hear what he said but I wished that I had turned on my music or put the headphones on and tinkered around with the keyboard. When she fell asleep on my shoulder, I was so scared that I would wake her up with any tiny movement, so I tried to be as still as I could. Normally being still was fairly easy but when I really needed to be still, my body rebelled. My nose itched, a stray lock of Bella's hair tickled at my neck and my leg got a cramp. But then she woke with a start and even though she didn't scream, I knew she'd just woken from a nightmare. She nearly fell off the bed until I grabbed her and then she was away from me in no time, picking up that silly green rock she'd just returned. She told me that she was taking it as she gripped it tightly. I was fine with that. It was just some green rock Alice found on last year's vacation to North Carolina.

I had wanted so badly for her not to get high today and she'd almost made it. I had no idea where she was at lunch, but her eyes were sober in Biology. Now she was high and I didn't know what to do for her. "I feel sick, Edward." "If you k-k-keep doing this, B-Bella, you'll d-d-die." Her eyes were closed and she was mumbling, but what she said was clear. "Have you thought that might be what I'm going for?" It felt like my heart stopped. "W-w-w-w-what?" She didn't respond so there was nothing to alleviate my fears. My heart began again, practically thumping out of my chest. "I-I-I d-d-don't w-want you to go aw-w-way, B-Bella." Again, she didn't respond, so I revealed a bit more. "W-what you ssssaid sssscares m-me." Her eyes opened and slowly they rolled toward me. "I said 'might,' Edward, don't freak out or anything." Then she paused. "But you never fucking know, do you?" I had no clue what she was talking about. "W-w-what?" "Maybe I am and maybe I'm not. Fucking life's like that, Edward. You never fucking know shit and it's not until you know that you'll never know shit that you'll actually understand and know, you know?" People who were high should probably not try to sum up Socrates. Once again, this would have been funny had she not been so high and saying things about chasing death. "B-B-Bella, d-don'tI c-c-can hhhhelp you, B-B-Bella. J-j-j-just ssssssss" I said, once again hating how my mouth fumbled my words, making me sound stupid. I couldn't get the word 'stop' out, so I gave up on that course and went with the most honest and simplest words I could find. "I d-d-don't want you to d-d-die, B-Bella." She finally looked at me, her brow creased and I sat down on my bed, having nothing else to do with my anxious body. "I n-need you, B-Bella." She turned her face from me and she became very still. "People don't need other people, Edward. They want. Just because I want you, doesn't mean that I need you." I wished Bella could just see that being an island wasn't healthy for her. In the short time she'd gone from someone who checked her blood sugar before she ate anything to someone who grew increasing involved in harder drugs and would forget constantly that she needed to care for herself even though she had a condition that could kill her. I wished that Bella would allow herself to need me. "It's o-o-okay to n-need someone else." God knew that I only survived the first few years away from my family because of Alice. Bella gave me a sarcastic laugh. "Right, because so many people have got my back, right?" "I do."

Bella looked at me and I hoped that she could really see me. I could help her. I would help her if she would let me. She didn't have to live this life alone and dependent on chemical highs that would only serve to make her need more. "N-not everyone will hhhhurt you." Bella stood up and stretched, the heels of her hands moving to rub circles over her eyes. "Don't be dramatic. I know not everyone will hurt me." "N-no you don't. You think I want to hhhhhurt you." I watched as she pulled the green rock from her pocket and moved to my books. "No, I don't," she whispered. I didn't know if she was telling the truth. I could never tell what went on in her head since she very rarely let me in. I did wish she could just know that I wasn't like everyone else. "B-but do you w-w-want to d-d-die?" Waiting for her answer made me extremely nervous, so instead of being silent, I kept talking, "B-because that'syou sssssseem lllllikethat's w -what you w-want." She laughed again and I wished that it was a real laugh instead of the angry one I heard now. "I don't want to die, Edward. It's just that living isn't all that great either, you know?" I stood up and crossed the room to be closer to her now that she was a little less frantic. I thought maybe she was starting to come down. "B-but you don't let p-p-people hhhhelp you make it great. Your d-d-d-d, fffffatherhe might not do everything r-r-right, but he llllllloves you." "No, he doesn't." "Hhhhe llllloves you enough to in-in-intimidate me into t-treating you r-r-right." "But you didn't need to be intimidated like that. He's an ass." I shook my head. "Hhhe doesn't know m-me, B-Bella. Hhhe was p-protecting you." "Let's talk about something else, okay?" I thought for a moment, because Bella was used to not thinking about things she didn't want to think about, and I had a choice to make about whether I'd let her do that now. She didn't want to talk about why she used drugs, which meant that she might never be healthy. But if I pushed her, then she'd think I was just like everyone else trying to take something from her. I compromised with myself. I would leave the question of giving up drugs alone for now so that she wouldn't feel boxed in, but I was going to use this time to learn more about her. It was natural. It was what we did. Right? I didn't want her to be mad at me, but I felt desperate to confirm some of the things that I'd been wondering about, even if they would hurt both of us in the process. Placing my hand on her lower back, I smiled at the energy flow that occurred. "W-w-why did your m-m-mm-mmmom's boyfriend get you hhhhigh?"

Bella shook her head and moved away from me. "Stop it, Edward." "Sssstop what?" "You don't get to know every fucking thing about me. I fucking get high and I like it, okay? It has nothing to do with" "B-b-but you c-could d-die and I j-just told you that I n-need you and I don't want you to d-die. I want to know b-because I want to hhhhelp you." "You can't help me, Edward. It's cool that you want to and all, but I do just fine on my own, you know?" I shook my head. "I d-don't know. If you just t-tell me, I can try to hhhhelp b-better." It was her turn to shake her head. I watched as she moved even closer to the book-shelf, nearly pressing into it as she rested her forehead there. She mumbled something about wearing down and then was silent. One of her hands was gripping the shelf that held my art books and the other was at her side, clutching the rock so very tightly that bits of her hand were red while other parts were ghost white. I tried to remember how sharp the edges were; she could cut herself if she squeezed any tighter. "I d-don't w-want you to b-be liiike my m-mm-mmmom." Bella sighed and I felt like maybe she would give. I was right. "He got me high so I'd relax." She'd said that same thing to me before. "Because II, um" Her br eath was hard but shallow. "I, um, cried a lot because, um" She shook her head and tightened her hold on the shelf and rock. "Because it...it hurt." My teeth clenched and my hands balled up like they did when I couldn't get words out. "W-w-w-what hurt?" Although I asked, I wasn't sure that I really wanted to have confirmation. She wouldn't speak and I knew that I should keep my distance from her but I couldn't stop my body from moving toward her again. Once more, I placed my hand flat against the small of her back. "B-B-Bella?" She spun around and pushed at me. I stumbled back slightly, no longer touching her but just watching her shake. It wasn't a shiver, but more like a tremor. Bella was shaking as if she were entirely too cold. I wanted to wrap her in a blanket. "He fucked me, okay?" Her voice was hard but not overly loud or angry. She paused for just a moment and I felt the physical pain as if Mike Newton had just punched me in the gut. When she spoke again, her voice had changed. She was angry now. "Do you feel better now that you know?" The venom she spat wasn't really directed at me, but I was in the line of fire. While I was not surprised to learn what she just told me, it took my breath away to hear her say it. I didn't want her to have gone through that. I didn't want her to carry that kind of pain. I didn't want that kind of pain to have shaped her like this. "No," I answered. I did not feel better, but at least it was out there and we could move on from it. At least she could know that I knew and we could walk through the pain together. "I llllike you no

m-m-matter what, B-Bella." "Shut up." "N-no. You n-need to know that p-p-people lllllike you. I llllike you." "Please just stop, Edward." I felt odd. I had never really expressed anything like this to someone before. Not even Alice. We just fell into some kind of secret, psychic knowledge of what we felt toward each other. But with Bella, it had to be said out loud because I knew that there was a big part of her that thought she was completely unlikeable, completely unlovable and completely too far gone for salvation. There was a small part of her that I wanted, no, needed to access. It was the part of her that wanted something more than she had, that wanted salvation. That part needed to know that I liked her, that I cared for her, that my life wouldn't be as good if she wasn't in it. She needed to know that I cared whether she lived or died and that I would help her when she needed it and leave her alone when she didn't. "I'm ssssorry that hhhhappened to you, B-Bella, b-but you sssaid my sssstutter didn't define m-me and that doesn't define you." Oh, God, she looked so tired. I wanted to hold her, to feed her, to comfort her in some meaningful way. I wanted to help her, to heal her, to make her whole. "I don't w-w-want you to die." "The world wouldn't be different if I wasn't in it, Edward. Most people wouldn't even notice." I wanted to be clear. I wished that my words could be visual just like they were in an e-mail because I didn't want her to miss the point when she focused on my stuttering sounds and not the actual words and meaning behind them. Not that I thought Bella focused on my stutter, but I tried to be as calm as I could be to make it through without stumbling once. "Myworldwould." Thank God! I did it. It had taken a lot of effort not to mess up and perhaps I shouldn't have been so proud of three little words, but I was. She needed to know. I relaxed the tension that had built up in my body. My fingers loosened and my hand uncurled. Bella shook her head. "Look at me, Edward." Her jaw tightened before she continued, " Look at me. I'm not" "I am lllllooking." So much for speaking clearer, but her voice was loud and distracting. I cut her off because she needed to realize that I already saw her. She was awfully hard to miss. "How do you I mean, why How can you just fucking" I went to her again, very slowly. I had never wanted to be close like this to anyone, but Bella's entire being spoke to me. Her soul reached out and connected with mine like an unending circuit of energy. Even though the situation was heavy and tense, horrible and nerve-wracking, it was made better by being close to her. If I felt better when I was near her, maybe she felt better being near to me. Wishing my hands were healed and that I could deftly drag my hand through her hair, I gently pulled her to me, into my arms. My heart sang, rejoicing that she didn't fight it, that she just let me hold her. I

didn't care if it was because she thought that I needed to hold her or if she needed me to hold her. I was holding her and feeling her heart beat against mine and doing my best to stop the quakes that shook her. After a long stretch of quiet, she mumbled, "I'm tired." I could tell that she was. Her body had lost its nervous bounce and was currently just slumped into me. "A-a-are you hhhungry?" She shook her head against me. "W-we hhhave left-overs from llllast night." Again she shook her head. "I'll w-warm them up for you." "Edward, I'm fine." I pulled away and moved to the door, hating to leave her but needing to take care of her. "You hhhhaven't eaten, B-Bella." "Fine." I went down to microwave the food Bella had made the day before and stayed silent, even when Alice tried to rope me into playing video games. I just held up my bandaged hands as an excuse. As I walked back up to my room, I wondered at myself. I had never been allowed to have food in my room back in Chicago. Even now with Carlisle, when it wasn't a rule, I'd never had anything to eat in my room. It was odd to step over the threshold holding a plate of food that could easily fall and stain the carpet. But regardless of my aversion to eating in my room, Bella needed to eat something. She had skipped lunch. Bella was quiet for the rest of the night, and though she'd only picked at the food, I was happy that she even tried. My mother never really tried to eat. She was very thin. She would fix us food and take a spoonful of this or a bite that and then she would just be done. She'd sit at the table watching us eat as she drank cup after cup of coffee. The picture I had of her wasn't what I remembered of my mother. In that family photograph, she looked healthier than she did toward the end. Her hair was still pretty and red, even if her eyes still told me she was high. I wished I had more pictures of her, because then I might've been able to see when things started to get so bad for her. Maybe I could have seen the progression. I knew my mother hadn't started off a drug addict; I wanted to see what she looked like before it had begun. After she died, my father rarely spoke of my mother, except to say that only the righteous survived and the weaker souls burned in Hell. Those words were spoken every night, beginning on the night that she had done it. He could talk for hours about the perils of being like my mother, of letting the demons within us take hold and succumbing to their will. He would never say her name or the words 'your mother.' He always called her 'The Fallen.' Regretfully, I had to return Bella to her home. Before she could open the car door, I took her hand. There was so much I wanted to say but I couldn't even form an intelligent sentence in my brain, so anything verbal was doomed from the start. Instead I just looked at her. Her eyes were so beautiful, so sad and so hurt. Why couldn't everyone in the world see that about her?

Bella was good at hiding. "I'll see you tomorrow, Edward." "B-Bella. D-don'tI'll hhhhelp you." She turned back to me, a hand finding little bits of my hair. My eyes closed. It had been an emotional day and I was tired. The sensation of her touch was almost too much and yet not enough. And when her lips brushed against mine, I settled on not enough. I wanted more of her. All of her. When my lips responded to hers, she wasted no time and her tongue licked my lips. Then I licked them myself, loving the flavor she left upon them. Before I could even think, she was on top of me, straddling me like she tended to do. Both of her hands were in my hair now, tugging and pulling, soothing and searching. And her mouth was frantic on mine, her tongue sweeping everywhere. I was hard underneath her and I knew she felt it and the thought made my head spin. It was incredibly wrong and inappropriate, given what she'd just shared with me. Yet I couldn't tell my mouth to stop moving with hers and I couldn't tell my hands to stop gripping her hips like I owned them. I ignored the ache in my broken fingers and I pulled her closer to me as she rocked. Her mouth moved down to my neck and one of her hands moved down between our coat-covered bodies. When she took me in her hand, I felt like I couldn't breathe. "B-B-B-B-Bella," I said, feeling as though I was gasping for air. I grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands away from my groin and from my hair. I shook my head, hoping that I wouldn't have to speak because I had no words. "What?" Her body curled and snaked as if it were searching for contact with mine. "Edward, I" "I c-c-c-can't." I took two deep breaths. "Your ffffather is p-p-probably w-wondering w-where you a-a-are." "My father?" She stole her hands back and ran them through her hair and then suddenly she was off of me and I felt cold. "You need to come up with a better excuse, Edward. That one's getting old." I shook my head, but knew she was right. "You're ssssstill hhhhigh, B-Bella." I wanted to tell her that I wasn't Mike Newton and I wouldn't have sex with her when she wasn't in her right mind, but I doubted I could even say the word sex while I was hard like this. And her mental status wasn't the real reason anyway. Bella turned and grabbed her bag from the floor, holding it to her chest. I hated that I disappointed her. I hated that she took it all wrong. "Whatever." "I llllllike k-k-k-kissing you, B-Bella, but you hhhhave to understand that I c-c-c" "Yeah, I know, you 'can't' do that shit with me." I reached out for her because I hated that she thought I didn't want her. She wouldn't let me touch her.

Bella moved away and popped open the door. "I don't get it. How can you not do that with me but you can fuck Jessica Stanley on the beach?" I froze. My breathing stopped. My fingers hurt as I gripped the steering wheel tightly. How did she know about that? There were strangled noises that I suddenly recognized as the stuttered sounds of my own voice. "Fuck." Bella turned around, brushing the hair away from my face that peeked out from under my stocking cap. "Never mind," she said. "It doesn't matter. I" she stopped and drew a breath. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, right?" Although I nodded, I barely had time to process her question and the fact that she was moving away from me again before she was out of the car and disappearing through her door. ... She didn't talk to me for three days, but her eyes were sober. And that was enough. It wasn't like she ignored me. We drove to and from school together and we hung out, once at her house, once at mine. She even sat with me at lunch. She just didn't talk. It was okay by me. I respected silence and the need for it. I wished more people understood that sometimes there was nothing in the world worth saying. We didn't e-mail either. I seemed to be procrastinating with her questions. I would answer them eventually though, except maybe the Christmas question. I would rather not get into the whole thing, especially when I wanted to be focused on her. She needed help right now because even though we hadn't given proper voice to it, I knew that she wasn't doing the things she normally did to avoid actually feeling. That had to be difficult for her. The answer to the question she posed was just more of the same and I didn't want to burden her with it. In time, she would forget that she asked. Friday night brought about the regular ritual of therapy and time with Bella. When Esme let us break off into pairs, instead of going to my room, Bella and I grabbed our coats and headed toward the green house. I wanted her to see how quickly the plants were growing. Maybe she would be excited that the little buds had started to grow on the stalk and soon she'd have fresh Brussels sprouts to eat. We had been sitting on the over-turned buckets for nearly forty minutes before her soft voice broke the silence. I looked up at her in shock as I had grown used to the quiet. I'd been content just being with her. But the sound of her voice was lovely, even if it was pained. "Do you want to hang out this weekend?" ... "You haven't had a panic attack in a while. That's wonderful."

I nodded in agreement, though my mind was less on panic attacks and more on the fact that Bella would be online later and instead of chatting with Esme, I wanted to be chatting with Bella. "Why do you think that is?" I shrugged. I supposed it was in part because I was almost entirely focused on Bella. It was hard to freak-out and panic when I was trying to keep someone else afloat. Not that she was being saved from drowning by me. I wasn't doing much to help her, but I was focused on her, which helped me subdue all of the signals my body threw at me when a panic attack was near. "B-B-Bella hhhhasn't gotten hhhigh f-f-f-for three days." At least not around me. Esme smiled and nodded. "That's an amazing accomplishment. I take it this makes you happy?" "B-Bella can be hhhhealthy now." "Let's talk a little bit about you though, okay?" I said nothing because I didn't want to talk about me, but Esme already knew that. It would be a wasted effort. "Is there anything you want to talk about, Edward?" I shook my head in response. "I think we should probably talk about your anger." "M-m-mmmmy anger?" "Yes." "I'm n-not angry." Esme folded her hands in her lap and leaned forward, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. "Edward, you broke another human being's nose and jaw. Carlisle didn't tell you, but Mike Newton could very well have some permanent hearing loss in his left ear in addition to a crooked nose." I understood what she was saying, but I couldn't bring myself to care or have any compassion at all for Mike Newton. I was happy that I hit him and I was happy that he would have some permanent reminders. He needed to be reminded every day of his life that he was an ass. He needed to be reminded every day of his life that he couldn't just do whatever he wanted to people. And as sick as I knew it to be, I was happy that he would have some other way of remembering me for the rest of his life other than just the stuttering kid he picked on in school. Now I would be the first thing he thought of when some college girl asked him about his stupid, crooked nose. I would be the thought in his head when his healed jaw ached in the winter and I would be the one he'd think of when in fifteen years he couldn't hear his wife and kids out of his left ear. It was satisfying to me. "W-what is there to ssssay?" "Do you feel bad about what happened?"

"No." "Tell me what it felt like to release that much emotion." I knew what she was trying to do and I knew that I could either sit there in silence, which would only postpone the inevitable, or I could just answer her questions and be done for the night. "It w-was numbing." "What did you think about at the time?" "N-nothing." My mind had been pleasantly and uncharacteristically blank. All I remembered thinking about was how much I hated Mike Newton. Hate wasn't a word I threw around lightly. I usually worked very hard to have compassion for people, even those who were less than deserving. "Do you feel justified in doing what you did?" "Hhhhe hhhhurt B-Bella." "From what I understand, he's hurt you in the past, but you haven't done anything to defend yourself." "Hhhe hhurt B-Bella," I said again. Mike Newton could punch me in the gut five times a day, every day of my life, but he hurt Bella, and that was a different story. "So you felt numb?" Actually, that state of emotionless calm had come as a result of an intense expression of anger. It was anger I had felt. I wasn't sure that I had ever felt that before in my life. "Y-yes." "And before the numb, you felt?" Esme needed validation that she was correct in her assessment of my anger. She needed me to say it because she wanted me to understand how I felt. I had known Esme since moving to Forks many years ago and our time together had always been about her pushing me to recognize certain things. Like the fact that I was apparently too reserved in my emotions. She was right. I knew the first time I met Esme that she'd been onto something. There were very few emotions that I let myself feel and the violent anger I'd displayed with Newton was case in point. It had taken seventeen years for me to be angry enough with another person to express it. Esme would have wanted me to discuss it. She would have wanted me to process it. Perhaps that might have been a better way, but at the time I could do nothing but propel my fists at Newton. Speaking would never be something that was comfortable to me. I would never be able to have an easy conversation with anyone, let alone someone whose life's mission was to mess with me. "Angry," I finally answered her. To be truthful, I still felt a small bit of residual anger. It wasn't fair that I was stuck with all of these feelings that needed to be expressed but without an adequate avenue to express them.

Processing and discussing went out of the window whenever I opened up my mouth. No one wanted to sit quietly and listen to me stumble around with words. No one wanted to listen to a five letter word take a full thirty seconds to flow from my mouth. The frustration I normally felt seemed to have morphed into gentle anger within me. "That's a new emotion for you, isn't it?" It was, but I said nothing. "Do you remember four years or so ago when Emmett came into your room without knocking?" My chest tightened at just the thought of it. Of course I remembered it. "It took you three days to be able to verbalize anything. You couldn't even speak to Alice. But when you did start talking again, you never once said that you were angry that he hadn't respected your boundaries. You apologized to him for making him upset when you panicked." For as much emotional turmoil I had been going through at the time, I had realized exactly how much my seemingly illogical reaction had affected Emmett. He hadn't done it on purpose. He'd forgotten because he wanted to tell me what Rosalie and Jasper had gotten him for his birthday. At the time, Emmett was still in the habit of trying to engage me in long conversations. It was before he fully realized that I wasn't capable of being around him all that much. I hadn't wanted him as a brother and had been uncomfortable with him as a friend. It had nothing to do with Emmett. He was about as perfect a human being as there could be. My aversion to him was due to my own problems. He had been so upset I'd reacted like that to his simple error, a mistake that to another person might have only been annoying but had nearly debilitated me. Emmett wanted so desperately to be everything everyone needed him to be, and he took my reaction as a sign that he had failed. Last year Alice told me that Emmett had cried and asked Carlisle if I hated him. "That was an unhealthy reaction. You apologized for making him uncomfortable, while he should have apologized to you for making you uncomfortable. Your reaction to Mike was probably not a healthy one either, Edward. You allowed yourself to bottle all of your feelings and emotions up until the pressure was too much. You need to find something in between that is both therapeutic and helpful. You cannot keep forcing calm upon yourself and you cannot beat up the people who anger you." "I-I d-don't" When I didn't continue, she continued. "It's good that you're experiencing anger. It is a normal, healthy emotion. What you say Mike did to Bella is inexcusable. It's upsetting and worthy of a strong emotion such as anger. But it's new to you and you need to figure out healthy ways of dealing with it." I didn't want to deal with my anger. I didn't have a history of it and it wouldn't happen again now that Bella was safe with me. "There are repercussions to everything we do in life and what you did to Mike brings about things that are going to have to happen." "W-w-what?" "Carlisle not only has to cover Mike's medical expenses, but he also has to ensure his future safety. Do you understand?" I shook my head.

"The Newtons are concerned for their son's safety around you. You aren't to talk to him." That wouldn't be a problem. Talking wasn't something I did well, and talking to Mike in the past consisted of nothing more than his taunts and punches. There was nothing I needed to say to him. "Beyond the class you have with him, you aren't to go near him. If it happens again, they have assured Carlisle they will press charges. You're close enough to eighteen that you would have some pretty severe consequences." I had no intention of talking to or going near Mike ever again. "O-o-okay." "You will need to start dealing with your anger appropriately, Edward. Mrs. Newton seems to understand that her son was not the nicest person to you, but Mr. Newton is quite upset. Don't go in their store. If you're out and you see them, it might be best to leave." "O-okay." "We'll need to focus on anger management. I want you to know how hard Carlisle and Chief Swan worked to keep the Newtons from pressing charges." Esme leaned forward, her eyes grabbing mine. "You're very, very lucky to have them on your side." I nodded, hoping we could move on to something else. "You have anxiety about being around other people. You have anxiety about being pushed outside your comfort zone. You need to understand that if this happens again, not just with Mike, but with anyone, you'll be removed from this house and placed in a rehabilitative center. I won't be able to stop it. Chief Swan won't either." I swallowed hard at the threat. My chest tightened. I wouldn't be able to play music or be around people who were kind to me. It would hurt to be in a place like that. Esme's voice was intense. "This is your warning, Edward. Do not put yourself in a position where no one can help you." ... Bella worked until three p.m. on Saturday and I had been more than happy to pick her up and bring her back to my house after. She still wasn't speaking much but her eyes were clear. She just looked tired. We had spent the first forty-five minutes of our time together just sitting on my couch listening to music. Just as before, I didn't mind the silence, especially since her body was pressed close to mine. She was letting me hold her hand while she rested her head back against my shoulder. I thought maybe she had drifted off to sleep and was trying to figure out a calm way to react should she wake with a start again. Suddenly she spoke, and even though it startled me, it was more music to my ears than any song from my speakers. Despite my initial shock when she broke her silence, her words made me smile. "I still can't believe you listen to country." I repeated my words from all those weeks ago. "C-C-Cash isn't country, B-Bella." I squeezed her hand just because I wanted to. "And jjjjjust so you know, anything with a b-b-banjo or a fffffiddle isn't country either, it's b-b-bluegrass."

She chuckled softly. I didn't think I'd ever loved a sound more. "Good to know." Even though she appeared so tired just moments ago, Bella seemed as though she had endless energy as she moved her body to once again sit atop my thighs. My body responded to hers before her mouth was on mine. Once her lips brushed mine, most of my thoughts escaped me. She writhed on top of me and my hands moved to her hips. I had removed the bandages this morning but my knuckles were still a little tender. This time I got to enjoy her flavor. She tasted like strawberries. I wasn't able to stop my mouth from responding to hers and I didn't want to. She was absolutely amazing and she felt wonderful. Her hands in my hair were so relaxing and exciting at the same time. My whole body was alight with our connection. Bella's fingers tightened in my hair, almost painfully, but I only noticed the pain for a moment as her mouth moved from mine, trailing kisses along my jaw line to my ear. She sucked in my earlobe. Holy Mary, mother of God! I was rendered speechless and frozen as that sensation attacked me. It was saturating and consuming. It was intense and frightening. It felt like I had lost control of my body. My fingers tightened on her hips and I pulled her closer to me. Bella's mouth found its way to my neck. She sucked on the tight cord in my neck, licking at my flesh. Hands moving from my hair to my collarbone, she rocked on top of me and a groan slipped out. She made delicious noises that I tried not to hear for the sole reason that I was already over-stimulated. Bella's fingers found the bottom of my shirt and she slipped her hand under it. It wasn't the first time she'd touched my bare stomach, but this time it wasn't a quick touch. She stroked and felt my body with a need that once again scared me. I needed to think. I couldn't think when she was doing what she was doing to me or my body. I needed to end this soon before it went on too long and became too much. "W-w-w-we d-don't t-t-t-t-t," I tried to say, but was failing miserably, "d-d-don't ask qu-questions an-n-n-nymore, B-Bella." Bella's tongue licked at the hollow behind my ear and my hands automatically tightened on her. "That's because you haven't returned my e-mail, Edward." I sighed that she was keeping track and that she knew that it was me who was stalling. I sometimes wished that she was less perceptive. She continued to move very seductively against me. "But ask away." I struggled to come up with something to ask. Although she felt wonderful, it was difficult for me to concentrate with her this close to me. "W-w-who's your fffffavorite m-m-mm-mmusician." "You," she whispered, her voice nothing but breath in my ear. The heels of her hands brushed over my nipples and I couldn't find enough air. "W-w-w-what's youruhyouruh" not being able to think or breathe properly impeded my ability

to speak even more than usual, "fffffavorite song?" "Whichever song you like to play the most," she answered, mumbling against my skin. "Hhhhhave you thought ab-b-b-bout" I wanted to ask her if she'd given any thought to going to culinary school, but my words stopped as her hands trailed over my sides and moved as if she were trying to snake them around to my back. I grabbed her wrists a little too roughly. She pulled back, taking her arms and hands away from me. "What? Why can't we" she began but then sighed. "Fuck," Bella hissed, moving off of me completely and running her hands through her hair as she stood. "Why don't you want me?" My eyes grew large, even though I expected her to react as she normally did. "I-I-I-I d-d-d-do, B-B-Bella." How could I convince her of this? She obviously thought that my inability to be physical with her was a sign that I didn't want her, but that wasn't true. "How can you fuck Jessica Stanley, but barely kiss me?" My chest tightened and I was sure that my face conveyed my rising panic. "B-B-Bella," I choked out. "I'm going to go." "No!" I stood up and held onto her index finger with my right hand. "Ssssshe w-was a m-m-mmmistake, B-Bella. P-p-p-please d-don't g-g-g-gggo." She didn't move more than an inch but it was toward me, not away. I breathed a tiny sigh of relief. Maybe she wouldn't leave after all. "I don't get it." I would have to tell her because I hated that she felt I was rejecting her. She didn't understand that the thing with Jessica wasn't like this. It wasn't even in the same realm as what I felt with Bella. What I felt for Bella. I took a deep breath and tried to relax. "I-I-I d-didn't want to go, b-b-but Aliiice and Emmett sssaid it would hhhelp. I-I-I wanted to be d-d-different in hhhhigh ssschool. And with J-J-JJJJessicaI jjjjustI n-needed to ssssee if I was n-normal and I c-c-clearly wasn't." I sighed. I felt foolish and defective. "It was a m-m-mistake." I was able to pull her hand into mine further so that I was holding onto her entire hand and not just her finger. "I'm sssssorry." "I'm not mad that you had sex with her, Edward. That'sI mean, I wish you'd picked someone less vapid, butI mean, you're free toI just wish you'd do that with me." I knew that was what she wanted and I tried to fight back the dread that she wouldn't want me if she knew how defective I was. But I couldn't give her what she wanted and I didn't want her to think that it was because of her. If I could take back what happened with Jessica, I would have gladly done so because the only thing I got out of it was feeling like I was even more flawed than I had originally thought. "I c-c-can't, B-Bella. It's not" "You can't?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. "That's not what Jessica Stanley says." If possible, my chest seized even tighter. "Sh-sh-sssshe t-t-t-tells p-p-people ab-b-bout it?"

"Oh yeah," Bella confirmed, her eyes fixed on mine, "and she sounds quite proud of herself for nailing you." I had hoped she was finished talking about Jessica Stanley because I hated even the memory of it all, but she kept on. "Yeah, apparently you're incredibly skilled at going down on girls and can fuck for hours. Not that I would have any idea about that." My breathing was heavy. "W-w-w-w-wh-wh-wha?" "Edward? Why does talking about sex make you so uncomfortable?" I closed my eyes, hoping that it would help me form words that I could actually push out. "W-w-why is ssssex ssssuch a c-c-comfortable topic for you?" But just like I hadn't answered her question, she didn't answer mine. "Don't change the subject." "W-w-what's the subject?" "The Great Stanley/Cullen Fuck, Edward." I was genuinely confused. "W-w-why would she b-be p-p-proud of that?" "Seriously?" I nodded, slightly taken aback. "Edward, you're fucking hot." It felt like my eyes were too big and my face was too hot. "N-n-no, I'm n-not." She smiled and I thought it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. "You're fucking cute when you blush. You spend too much time looking at the ground and not enough looking in the mirror. If you'd look up at school once in a while, you'd see all the girls checking out your ass all day." I couldn't help it, my eyes bugged out. "Th-th-thy-y-you're m-making that up." Her smile grew larger and it was obvious that she was enjoying this. "Am not. You're fucking fine and the fact that you don't know it makes me flat-out sad. Now that you've stopped taking shit from little fucks like Prick Newton, you could fucking own that school." "N-n-not with m-m-my st-stutter." Bella's smile faltered a bit as she rolled her eyes. "Give that shit a rest, okay? No one besides you and dicks like Newton give a shit about your stutter. Now that you fucked that kid up, he won't do that stuff anymore," Bella sighed, "If only your confidence was as hot as your looks, maybe you'd be able to see that most people don't define you by your stutter. It's only one small part of you." I worked on digesting everything she'd just said and after a moment, all I came up with to ask was, "Y-y-you think I'm hhhhot?" She smiled again and rolled her eyes dramatically. "You want me to say it again?" I nodded and she sighed exaggeratedly. "You're so fucking hot, Edward. I thought so the very first time I saw you." I was beaming. I'd thought she was beautiful the second I looked up at her after knocking into her that first day and it was almost too much to process that she liked me then too. Bella laughed as she squeezed my hand. "Don't let that shit go to your head."

"You're hhhot t-too." "I know." She moved closer to me, pressing her small body against mine. Had we been sitting, I knew she would have been straddling me again. It seemed that I was her favorite chair. "I'm fucking hot for you too, so drop your puritanical ideals and let's be hot together." What she said bothered me even though I was happy to have her so close again. "I'm n-n-not p-p-puritanical, B-Bella." We were still for a moment and then Bella took both of my hands and guided me over to my bed. She sat down and tugged until we were both lying down, me on top of her. Once again, my breathing sped up and I thought my chest would break open with the force of my heart. Her hands moved to my hair and instead of just soothing, they brought my head down to her and then I was kissing her again. Her legs moved beneath me and suddenly my hips were nestled between her thighs. The sensation was too much; her heat was too much against me. I propelled myself up and off of her, stumbling backwards from the bed, trying to regain control over myself. Bella moved to a sitting position, her knees together as she looked at me with sober, innocent eyes. They spoke of her curiosity. "Edward?" All I could do was shake my head as I struggled for breath. Fear and panic gripped me. "Is this because your father was a Jesus-freak? Because I swear Jesus loves sex." Although I recognized her attempt at humor, the weight in my chest was much too heavy to laugh or smile. She studied me. The way her eyes darted over my face and then down to my hands put me even more on edge. "Why did you need to see if you were 'normal'?" I literally gulped and once again fought back the urge to double over in an attempt to gain enough oxygen to fuel my brain and body. I didn't want to tell her. I didn't want her to know there had been so much self-doubt then, even more than now. I didn't want to tell her that I had used Jessica that night for a couple of reasons, but mainly because I was confused. I didn't know anything about my own sexuality at the time and it had been, and still was hard for me to explore. At the time I hadn't known if I was gay, straight, asexual or something in-between. If I told her, there would be more questions like why I thought I might've been anything but heterosexual and why I hadn't known if I could physically do it. Although I thought I had given Jessica one, I never actually had an orgasm myself. My body had shut down and I had done everything I could to keep that fact from Jessica without hyperventilating myself into a panic attack. Smoking pot wasn't the brightest thing I could have done, but it did keep me from panicking until Jessica had gone back to her friends. Although it worked for a quick second to relax my nerves, the marijuana only served to increase my paranoia and I had become incredibly frightened. I had quite a lot of awful memories, but that night on the beach is within my top five, based on the fact that I felt completely alone and sinful. I felt undeserving and I had forced myself to step out of my comfort zone only to find out that there was no benefit to doing so at all. I hadn't enjoyed pot. I hadn't enjoyed Jessica Stanley, and none of the questions had been answered.

Plus I found myself truly unable to breathe as the marijuana wore off. The more I thought about what I had let myself do, the more freaked out about it all I had become. There was no way for me to actually tell someone what was wrong, so in addition to the normal sedation techniques, Carlisle and Esme had no other choice but to admit me into the hospital. That night had caused my life to become uncontrollable and it sickened me to even think about it now. "I c-c-c-c-c-c-c" I wanted to explain why I couldn't have sex with her, why I couldn't even talk about having sex with her, but the words wouldn't form. I was sweating. "Edward, stop," she said, her hands moving to hold mine again. "I'm sorry. Don'tdon' t worry about it. You don't have to tell me anything else." It was a while before my mind and mouth cooperated. "B-B-Bella, I w-w-w-want you. I do, b-b-but I c-c-c-can't jjjjust jjjump into that ag-gain, o-ookay?" She sighed deeply but then tugged on my hands. "Come on, drive me home." I furrowed my brow. "N-no." Bella smiled. "I'm not mad. If you can't do something, I won't pressure you. We'll go slow," her eyes shifted away from me, "or whatever." Her eyes quickly slid back to me as she finished, "But I do need to go. You can pick me up after work again tomorrow, okay?" ... Dinner was less than satisfying, and I knew that I wasn't the only one who thought so. Emmett was pushing around the over-cooked food on his plate as if that would make it taste better. Bella's cooking was much nicer. The air was oddly thick in the dining room tonight, tension hanging almost visibly in front of us. Although Alice and Jasper seemed like they were always lost in their own little world built for two, tonight Emmett and Rosalie were the same way. He kept looking at her, watching her closely as she ate. She would look at him and they would smile. Rosalie rarely smiled and when she did, it never looked that that. It was odd. Esme barely spoke, which was unusual since she usually prompted all of us to talk at the table when we ate together. I didn't think she could do anything to stop the questions. Esme liked talking. She wanted to talk about everything. Carlisle's jaw kept tensing and then relaxing as he pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. There was something just not right about the whole situation. Emmett and Rose's secret smiles and Esme and Carlisle's odd stress covered us like a blanket of fog. I really wanted to leave the scene and retreat upstairs to my room. I wished Bella hadn't left. I was just about to excuse myself from the table when I noticed Esme and Carlisle finally looking at each other for what seemed like the first time in weeks. "I have something to say that concerns all of you." I wondered if Bella liked Esme, even just a little, because of her bluntness. Between Esme and Bella, there were no wasted, sugar-coated words. Everyone looked up at her, Emmett finally pulling his eyes away from Rosalie and Jasper keeping his

on Alice for as long as he possibly could. "Carlisle and I need to tell you that we" she paused and flipped her hair over her shoulder and then folded her hands in front of her, "we're in a relationship with each other and" "What?" Rosalie asked too loudly. Even though he hadn't been addressed, Carlisle answered. "Your mother and I are seeing each other, Rose." Rosalie's frown deepened and Jasper's hand tightened around his fork. I watched as Rosalie looked from Carlisle to Esme and then to Emmett before she shook her head. She refocused her eyes on her mother. "How could you do that to us? We're dating his kids and now you're Esme didn't wait for Rosalie to finish. "There's nothing wrong with Carlisle and me having a relationship." "You're sleeping with him, aren't you?" I really did not want to be a part of this. Did they really not have a clue this was going on? I felt like I was slow in coming to the realization that they were together, but Rosalie, at least, seemed like her head was buried in the sand. "Rosalie Anne Hale, that is not really your business." "You ask about my sex life, Mom. It's only fair that I know who you're fucking." Jasper slammed his hand down hard on the table, glaring at Carlisle through narrowed eyes. He shoved away from the table, stood up and walked out of the house. Alice silently followed and I wondered if she would be able to take the onslaught of whatever emotion Jasper was about to unleash. Sometimes it was as if he just leaked out his extra emotion when he was like that. "Great job, Mom. I hope you at least don't have to fake your orgasms with him. It'd be a shame to ruin your kids' lives and not get off for it." "Rose," Carlisle warned, "I don't think we're ruining" "I'mdating your son and you're humping my mother!" With that she got up and stormed out. Emmett rose from his seat quickly. "Rose, baby, it's not like we'll be blood-related or anything. You won't be my sister." I was pretty much frozen and suddenly very much alone with Carlisle and Esme. Carlisle sighed. "That went well." I gulped as both their eyes fixed on me. Were they waiting for me to leave the table as well? Did they want time alone? "Edward," Esme said softly, "with Carlisle and me in a relationship, it wouldn't be right to continue to counsel you." I must have looked confused because she sighed. "Jasper and Rosalie see two of my colleagues in Port

Angeles once a week. I've arranged for one of them to come here on Fridays to have sessions with you. He's" I froze as my body seized. "Hhhhhe?" I kept looking back and forth between them, waiting for them to tell me that I'd misunderstood. "Edward, he's highly recommended, and not just by Esme." Carlisle said. "He's one of the best adolescent" I didn't care what Esme was saying. I stopped listening to her. I couldn't believe that she was serious. "Y-y-y-y-you c-c-c-can't d-d-d-d-d" "Please calm down, Edward. If you don't like or trust him, we'll find someone else." I kept trying to regulate my breathing but I failed each time. "I t-t-t-trust y-y-you." She smiled at me and it almost calmed me, but not quite. "Edward, I'm finding it increasingly difficult to remain subjective. That's notIt's not how it should be. I'm sorry." My teeth hurt as I clenched them together. I didn't want to be here anymore. They were telling me that I had to see someone else. They were telling me that they had chosen a man, a stranger to be my therapist and that was unacceptable. I never had any doubt that I needed to have someone like Esme in my life. Just like Bella, I was well-aware of my own issues, but I would never be comfortable with some stranger, male or female, asking me questions and expecting me to answer. My hands were fisted so tight that the flesh was nearly white. The burning felt good. I wanted to stop for a minute and just think about Bella. I wanted to replay the conversation we'd just had. I wanted to hear her voice tell me that she thought I was hot again. But I couldn't. I was at the table with Carlisle and Esme and they were telling me upsetting things. I couldn't stop the course my body was on. I couldn't stop the thoughts that spun and wove dark, hurtful threads in my head. I wished Bella were here. I wished Alice hadn't left. I wished someone was here to help me remember how to return to normal. My eyes were wet and my whole body tight. Even my toes were curled. I felt like I would break myself. "L-l-liar." Esme sighed deeply and if I had cared to, I would have seen the sadness etched in the grooves of her face. But I didn't care about her feelings right now. I only cared that she had told me a long time ago that I could trust her. But right now she was telling me that I had to trust someone else because just like everyone else, she could no longer give me what she thought I needed. "I've never been untrue to you, Edward. I didn't do this on purpose to upset you. It has weighed very heavily on us for" Again I quit listening for two reasons. First, I was incapable of hearing anything over the blood pounding in my head, and second, she wouldn't say anything meaningful. She would continue to use her doctor-speak to justify what was happening and when she ran out of words, Carlisle would chime

in. I cared very little about what they did together or if they had any kind of relationship. Had I not been so preoccupied with my own fear, anger, and resentment at having my sessions with an unknown man, I would have been happy that they were able to find each other. I didn't care about ethics. I thought it was stupid that she couldn't be my therapist if she was dating the man who adopted me. He wasn't my father and she would never be my mother. I shared time and space with these people and it was utterly ridiculous that because she had issues with her subjectivity, I would be punished liked this. A crack sounded so loudly that I was startled momentarily out of my thoughts. I looked down and found that my plate was now in three pieces and my right hand was bloody and covered in Alfredo sauce. Blood and food mingled together into a disgusting sludge that made me both comfortable and appalled at the same time. I was aware of motion around me. I was aware that Esme was still speaking to me while Carlisle quickly left the table. I tried to think of Bella, of the song that always played in my mind when I was with her, of her hands in my hair and the buried pain in her eyes, but I couldn't. This feeling was too much and I couldn't get a grip on the thoughts and emotions raging within me. Carlisle came back, a syringe in his hand. Sedatives were his only hope in times like these and I felt desperate to pluck the hope from him. I wanted him to feel like I did. It wasn't fair that he should be able to use chemical means to get what he wanted. It wasn't fair that part of me frantically needed and wanted the false peace of a chemically calm body and mind. When my hearing returned, I didn't listen to Esme's soothing words as Carlisle reached for my arm. I batted his hand away, feeling the scrape of the needle on my forearm before I shoved back from the table. I didn't want to be sedated into accepting this. "Y-y-y-y-you are l-ll-lllliars." "Edward," Carlisle's deep voice sounded so close to me that I froze. "God forbid: yea, let God be true, but every man a liar; as it is written, That thou mightest be justified in thy sayings, and mightest overcome when thou art judged." My head was spinning because the words were coming quick and automatic, blurring the versions until I could not recognize New International from King James, Old Testament from New. They were liars whose words could not be trusted. "Lying lips are an abomination to theLord; but they that deal truly are His delight." "Edward." I looked to Esme, who had risen from her seat. I stood up as well, my quick action forcing my chair to fall backward to the ground. I stepped around it as I shook my head. The ache in my chest was too much. I struggled to remember why I was so upset, but the only thing beyond Scripture that ran

through my head was the word "liar." "And wilt swear: As the Lord liveth in truth, in justice, and in righteousness; then shall the nations bless themselves by Him, and in Him shall they glory." "Edward, please stop." I wanted to stop just as Carlisle asked, and if I could have controlled my thoughts, I would have, but I was mentally paralyzed by the pain that sounded so sharp in my mind. Job spoke to me, but I pressed my lips together, not wanting to give voice to the chaos this meal had incited. He removes the speech of those who are trusted, and takes away the understanding of the elders. If I tried really hard, I could make sense of it. I could make the Scriptures work for me. Will you trust him, because his strength is great? Or will you leave to him your labor? The room had darkened some, although my body was no less ridden with anxiety and terror. I kept telling myself to trust in Him, that He would take care of me, that He would make it right. If I tried really hard, perhaps I could convince myself of it. Maybe He could love me. Job gave way to Psalms as I prayed harder than I had in years. O Lord my God, in thee do I put my trust: save me from all them that persecute me, and deliver me. My back hit something hard and I was sinking down onto the ground, feeling light as He answered me visually. I caught the flash of the syringe and understood that Carlisle's chemicals were my salvation, my deliverance. I breathed deeply, finally able to get enough oxygen into my lungs to supply my organs with what they needed. I watched as the needle pressed into the thin skin of my arm and breathed out as I felt the familiar burn. I would see Bella soon. I would go to her work again as soon as I could and I hoped she would smile for me like she had the last time. I would hold her hand and smile back at her as the electrical connection between us surged and sang. I blinked twice and barely flinched when Carlisle's hand cradled my face, his eyes searching mine deeply. I was calm and at peace when Esme brushed my hair back from my forehead. "Edward, let go." I didn't know what she was talking about until her hand grasped mine and pulled it from my mouth. I tasted my own blood and looked down to see the damage my teeth had caused to one hand and what the plate had done to the other. "Sssssssorry."

Esme shook her head, her eyes very noticeably less clinical than I was used to. "No, Edward, I'm sorry." "I'm g-g-g-going t-to m-m-mmmy r-r-r-r-r-room n-now." Between my stutters and the pauses between words, who knew how long it took me to say that simple sentence. I had to let Carlisle see to my hands before they let me go upstairs. On shaky legs, I made it to my room and closed and locked my door, happy that it was dark. I wanted Bella here to help me, but she wasn't. I wanted Alice, but she was with Jasper. So I settled for music as I laid down on my bed, curling into a tight ball. ... I was early to pick Bella up from work. I was anxious to see her. It was hard to sleep last night and I was tired, but knew that just being with her would help. I hadn't spoken at all today, not that there were many people around to speak to. Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie were all out of the house. Esme wasn't there and Carlisle chose to spend most of his time in his study. He checked on me a few times, acting like I was a fragile thing to be handled with care. But I was at Bella's work now. I wanted to see her smile like she had the last time. I needed to be with her in order to heal. She would see my re-bandaged hands and would ask me what happened, but I wouldn't tell her and I knew Bella wouldn't push. I rounded the customer service desk and ignored Jessica Stanley watching me. But my legs stopped me when I caught sight of Bella down the canned vegetable aisle. She was sitting on a step stool, leaning in toward the middle of the aisle. Her hair was pulled over one shoulder and although I was too far away to actually see them, the small indentations of her fork scar showed. She was so beautiful, even though it was obvious she was in some pain. But I couldn't focus on how beautiful she was because her hand was within someone else's. On the other side of the aisle, a long-haired guy was crouched down, leaning into the center of the walkway. Both of his hands were holding hers and he said something that made her smile. Both my injured hands curled tightly inside the pockets of my coat. Heat radiated out of the pain and filled my whole body with warm anger. There was red on her hand that my slow brain recognized as blood. I was torn between being angry that this guy had let her get hurt and being angry that he was touching her. I didn't want anyone else to touch her, even if they were cleaning and bandaging a wound. It should have been me. I fought hard to figure out what to do. I wanted to hurt him; to take cans of food into my hands and beat him senseless with them until the ambulance had to take him away. His stupid blond beard would be stained with his own blood and Bella's father would come and arrest me, looking at me like he looked at Jasper. I wanted to yell at him to get away from her, to never touch her ever again.

My feet propelled me into the aisle and I stopped a few safe feet away. My glare was hot, but the guy didn't even notice. "Edward!" I forced myself to look away from the guy to Bella. I was happy I did. Her smile was wonderful and it took away much of the anger. I forgot about the other guy until my eyes traveled down her arm to her hand, still being held by both of his. Their connection sickened me and before I could stop myself my hand wrapped painfully around Bella's opposite wrist and I pulled her up and away from him. It was as if I lost my ability to hear I led her out of the aisle. I didn't want to stop at the front to talk because then Jessica Stanley would be staring at us, but I couldn't just have a conversation with her in front of that guy either, so I practically yanked her over to a quiet section of the store. "Ow, Edward, that fucking hurts," Bella pulled her arm back when we stopped. Fear overtook me because I hadn't realized that I'd been holding her so tightly. I looked from the wrist she rubbed with her bandaged hand to her face. Her eyes were focused on me, her brow furrowed. "Ssssssorry," I said in a breath. I was really sorry. I hadn't meant to hurt her in any way. Bella looked away for a moment but then refocused her gaze on my hands. "What happened?" I shook my head and pointed to her bandage. "W-w-what hhhhappened to your hhhhand?" "I cut it." "Hhhhhe w-w-w-was hhhhholding it." She looked at me like I was crazy. "He put a Band-Aid on it, Edward. He wasn't holding my hand." Bella studied me for another few seconds before she spoke again. Her voice was soft. "I told him you were my boyfriend." "Oh." I couldn't think. Anger clouded my head as I thought she just told me that he was her boyfriend, but then it registered that she had told him I was her boyfriend. I looked at her, my mouth open as I searched her eyes for some kind of explanation. "Is that okay? I mean, do youI mean, are youokay with that?" She was asking me if it was okay that she said I was her boyfriend. I needed to respond to her, to let her know that it was okay. If I was her boyfriend, then she was my girlfriend and at that thought, all of my anger subsided. I nodded rapidly. "Y-y-y-yes." "What happened to your hands?" she asked again. "It's nothing," I answered, avoiding the question and taking the hand that hadn't been cut with one of mine. I was much gentler this time, and I tugged on her hand and was happy when she moved with me. I waited for her to clock out, but as soon as we were out in the vestibule, I pressed her up against the glass window and attacked her lips with mine, just because I wanted to.

She was my girlfriend. I was so happy that she was mine and I didn't want her to be taken from me. "Wow," she whispered when I pulled back. Bella licked her lips and then pressed them together. My hand went to her neck, my thumb stroking her scar. I looked at her for a long while until she looked away, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. I wanted to touch her face but I knew it would make her uncomfortable and this was such a perfect moment, I didn't want to ruin it. "C-c-can w-we go to your hhhhhouse?" She nodded and she let me hold her hand out to my car. I couldn't help but smile the entire time. Bella Swan was my girlfriend ...

Chapter 42: Individually Together Edward It felt strange on being so possessive of Bella and then attacking her so hungrily when I picked her up from work on Sunday. She seemed to like it, but I didn't know how I felt about getting so upset at the fact that someone else was taking care of her. But if I was her boyfriend now, I didn't want anyone else to touch my girlfriend. I was trying not to obsess about our new terminology or what the definitions meant. If I thought too much about it, I was sure to panic or at least be short of breath for a while. There were so many questions now, even more than before. While I had some questions floating about my head before this new change in status change, I could at least deduce a few answers here and there based on how Bella acted. But I didn't know anything about what it was to have a girlfriend or be someone's boyfriend. Would it be okay to introduce her to people as my girlfriend? Not that I'd introduce her to many people since I was rarely exposed to someone new. My thoughts drifted to the fact that Carlisle and Esme were forcing me to do just that. I hadn't spoken to anyone other than Bella since Saturday night. I would have talked to Alice, but she wasn't around much. It was just as well. The whole situation was upsetting and I needed to pull my thoughts away from it. Bella and I didn't kiss again that night; we just listened to music on her little CD player until I had to go home. If she was still grounded, it didn't seem like it. I wondered if her father had any idea how to actually be a parent. When we pulled into the parking lot before school on Monday, Bella stood by the car, waiting for me to get out. I was nervous since we hadn't discussed how we would act with each other at school now that she was my girlfriend. I was nervous about what that might mean about how we acted at school. Were

we supposed to be any different? Did other people need to know that she was my girlfriend or should it stay between us? Would everyone just know? Forcing my mind to quiet, I got out of the car. Bella took my hand. After looking at her for a few second, I finally began to move. Her hand holding mine felt strange. Usually I enjoyed the feeling, but today I felt slightly panicked. The parking lot was nearly empty but my panic kept rising. I caught sight of a freshman, whose locker was five down from mine, glancing at us. I dropped Bella's hand. The wounded look she gave me hurt. I hadn't known she would want to hold hands, and maybe she really didn't. Maybe she wanted to be the one who let go first. That was how it had always been with her and me. She always let go first. We stood there silent for a few moments until she cocked an eyebrow and leveled me with her stare. "So do you want to deal with this shit now or hold onto it all day?" "W-w-what?" "Whatever's got you weird and jittery." She thought I was weird and jittery. It felt like confirmation that all of my thoughts about myself were correct. I knew she didn't mean them that way. She was just being Bella, and Bella was blunt. This was her way of confronting me for acting strange. She just didn't work to make it sound nice or comforting. Everyone else talked to me like I was a child, making everything sound good when it wasn't, but not Bella. "I've n-n-never hhhhad a girlfriend, B-Bella." She let out a breath like she was relieved. A smile formed on her lips and she shook her head. "Well, you're in luck, Edward, because I've never had a boyfriend so we're pretty much on level footing." "B-b-b-but" "If it fucks with you when people look at you, I'm cool with not holding your hand in public because I don't want them to look at me either." "Everyone's lllllooking," I said in a quiet voice, even though in truth, there had only been that one person. "Would you feel better if I told you how I feel about it?" I nodded and then she continued. "Fine. It's cool if I'm blunt, right?" I nodded. "Are you sure?" Now she was making me even more nervous about the whole thing, but I nodded again. "I'd rather not hold hands at school because it invites people into my business and I don't like that. I wasn't going to hold your hand for long, so it's cool that you let go, but it sucks that you stopped holding mine because someone was looking and not because you were finished holding my hand. I wish you wouldn't give a fuck about what people thought of you." She paused. "Why do you even care? They're just assholes trying to make themselves feel better about being assholes."

She didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "And back to the hand-holding, I was just trying to reassure you. We're not going to kiss in front of people because I don't think it's necessary. We're not going to go to dances and shit because I don't like that stuff. I'll be your girlfriend, Edward, and if you need me to do any of those things, I will. But you'll have to tell me, because I'm as new at this as you are." I was confused. Perhaps her words were simple but I still had no idea what was expected of me. Bella sighed and answered the ridiculous questions in my mind. "Nothing has to change, Edward." "B-b-but you're m-m-my g-girlfriend now." "I don't understand. Can't we just, you know, be? Can't we just be Edward and Bella like always and keep everything else to ourselves?" I wanted to say yes. I wanted to tell her that I wanted to be her boyfriend but that it was okay that we just kept it to ourselves, but my mouth wouldn't work. "You were so much more confident last night at my work, but now that we're at school, you've gone all quiet and shy. Just say 'fuck you' to these people and let's go in. It's cold." I wish I could've understood this terror that seized me. I didn't want her to think that I was being this way because of anything she'd done, but I couldn't get my feet to walk or my mouth to speak. I wondered how long Bella would put up with me as a boyfriend when I not only couldn't give her all the physical love she wanted, but I couldn't even walk into a building with her now that she'd called me her boyfriend. "Look, Edward, you don't have to be my boyfriend at all." The terror bubbled over into total panic. "I w-w-w-w-want to b-b-b-be your" She smiled widely. "Good." There was no doubt about it, I liked Bella. Her smile calmed me. "We'll take the titles out, okay? You don't have to be my 'boyfriend', you're myEdward and I'm your Bella. That way there's no connotation about what we're supposed to 'be'. Then we won't be responsible if the other one gets disappointed based on their notion of what the terms boyfriend and girlfriend mean." When she wasn't high, Bella was a pretty reasonable human being. The logic of me just being her Edward and her just being my Bella was so simple, but it was so pure and it made sense to me. I felt calmer almost right away. "O-o-okay." Her eyes sparkled a little and the wide smile gave way to a soft one that equally calmed and warmed me. She squeezed my hands gently. I suspected that she was being extra careful because of the cuts on my hands that were no longer covered in bandages. Not to mention my still-healing fingers. "So just to be clear about it so that no one has to worry, we're going to go into that school and you're going to do what Edward does and be who Edward is, and I'm going to do what Bella does and be whoever the hell Bella is and when we come back together at lunch, we'll be Edward and Bella,

individually together, right?" I nodded as my mind worked at her words. We could just be ourselves, only together and nothing really had to change. I would know that she was my girlfriend and that I was her boyfriend, but no one else had to. I breathed deeply. "Thank you, B-Bella." The smile slipped and her brow creased as her teeth nibbled on the edge of her bottom lip. "Whatever," she said, her voice barely loud enough to be was distinguishable. "Can we go in now?" As far as I could tell, Bella was doing fine without getting high, but it seemed that her new mechanism to get through the day was to sleep through it. All Bella did at lunch was sleep, and Alice mentioned Bella being tired in Photography. I would think that she might have some issues going to sleep around so many people and without a closed and locked door, but all she did was scoot her chair closer to mine and pillow her head on her arms. She slept through Biology. It wasn't hard to see that Mr. Banner was annoyed by it. Bella came over after school. No one but Carlisle was home again, relieving me of any obligation to speak. I was still only speaking to Bella. She made meatloaf and potatoes. Well, she made me make the potatoes. She said I would've been responsible for the meatloaf if my hands hadn't been in the shape that they were. She made me watch her make it though. She said I needed to learn how to take care of myself. Bella was right. I knew how to clean because my father insisted upon it, but I had never been responsible for cooking. The panic I had felt earlier in the day had lessened steadily and now, eating dinner with her on the floor of my room, it was completely gone. She was right. We didn't have to be any different now that she was my girlfriend. I could still just be me and for whatever reason, she seemed to like me that way. ... Tuesday morning was the first weekday morning in a long time that I wasn't awakened by Emmett's booming voice and constant pounding on the door. I rolled over and blinked at the clock. It was half-past eight. I was late for school, but more importantly, late to pick up Bella. How had Emmett allowed this to happen? He was always very careful about being punctual. After pulling on a t-shirt and tugging down the legs of my black pajama pants, I stumbled out of my room and down the stairs. I found Alice and Emmett eating cereal at the kitchen table. I glanced at the clock on the microwave. It still said that it was after eight-thirty in the morning. I went straight for the coffee, my confusion growing. "W-w-what's g-g-g" "Snow day!" Emmett said loudly before shoving more cereal into his mouth. "We're going sledding." He narrowed his eyes and pointed his spoon at me. "And you're going too." "You should call Bella," Alice suggested. I wondered, if left on her own, would Bella even be awake right now? Before I could ponder too much, the phone rang and Alice practically skipped over to it. My head snapped up as soon as Alice said Bella's name.

Even though she had called me, talking to Bella on the phone was strange and awkward. I hated using the phone. Her voice was so strong as she asked me to come over. The buses weren't running, so she had no way to get over here to spend the day. My heart felt like it filled too full burst into a million pieces when I realized that she was saying that she wanted to spend her entire free day with me. But then it made me nervous, and I couldn't get any words to pass my lips without sounding like a complete idiot. Bella reminded me that there was nothing different about today and we were just hanging out. She called me her Edward again before hanging up. I wondered when she had gotten so intuitive, because she seemed to know exactly what calmed me, and when I needed calming. In one short hour, I was with Bella and we were right outside the woods that lined her father's property. The fact that it was snowing again in Forks was pretty amazing. Usually, even in the winter, it only ever rained. That it was good packing snow and not just light powder was equally amazing. But most of all having two opportunities in a relatively short period of time to play in the snow with Bella was simplymagical. The snow was beautiful. She was so beautiful in it. Bella was bundled up in her black coat and brown hat and gloves. I worried about her only being in jeans and her boots made for fashion, but as she played in the snow with me, she didn't seem too bothered. Her nose was red, as were her cheeks, and her smile was bright and warm. I showed her how to make a good snowball, in case we did meet up with Emmett and needed to engage in a battle. And it was only after I got smacked in the face with one that I realized she was probably better at the whole thing than I was. I wound up flat on my back, scrubbing the melted snow off my face. She stood above me, watching. "Sorry, Edward, I" her words stopped as I wrapped a hand around her ankle and gently yanked until she was lying next to me. Bella was on her side, her head and upper body propped up by her right arm. Her hair spilled out of her hat over the shoulders of her coat and was speckled with white flakes. She wore a smile that I'd never seen her show anyone else. I loved her smile. If I were truly honest with myself, I would recognize that I loved her, but that thought was too much. It would only serve to make me nervous and spastic around her. 'Boyfriend' and 'girlfriend' were complicated words all by themselves. Things were already complicated between us and for me to honestly admit to her or myself that I loved her would do nothing but make everything more awkward. I was not unaware that the women in my life I'd allowed myself to love or at least care about, albeit differently than I loved Bella, had a habit of going away. Alice hadn't yet, but it was only a matter of time before she chose to follow Jasper. The tips of Bella's fingers grazed my forehead and I felt a lock of my hair being moved. I was thankful not to have an aversion to being touched on my face like she did. I wanted to slowly break her of that, but she clung to it and I realized that it might never be something that was comfortable for her.

Bella had been hurt, and as much as I wanted us to be normal and do normal things together like other people, I knew it would never be that way. I was ruined and she was broken and no matter how hard we tried to forget it, those simple facts would always be present in our lives. The real matter of importance though, was that I wanted to be broken and ruined with her. Her finger rubbed the spot between my brows. "This crease should leave. You always look like you're trying to work something out in your head." "I am a-always w-w-working things out in my hhhhead." Her eyes dropped from mine and focused on my lips. It made me nervous. "Have you ever been kissed in the snow?" I shook my head in answer. "Me either. Do you want to be? Kissed in the snow that is," she finished, more shyness than I'd ever heard in her voice. Bella was incredibly perceptive when not under the influence of drugs. Of course I wanted to kiss her in the snow, but this was her way of asking permission since during our last conversation about it, I'd said that I needed to take things slowly. A part of me rejoiced that she wanted the same things I wanted, and a part of me cringed that I was so inept I was never the one to initiate anything. In all relationships that I'd witnessed, it seemed as though the man was the one taking the first step but in my relationship with her, it was always Bella. I wondered if she needed me to be something else for her. She seemed to like physical affection, or at least sex as a form of affection, and that was something I couldn't give her right now. I worried about how long she'd wait for me. When I didn't respond, her brow furrowed and her eyes darted away. I was so tired of the awkwardness between us. I wanted my soul to be stitched to hers so that we could already know each other's minds. "Y-yes." The smile reappeared, not that I saw it for long since she wasted no time in pressing her lips to mine. The thing about Bella was that she had a hard time controlling herself. She hadn't just smoked pot, that day I found her in the parking lot, but had taken a drug that messed her up so bad, she didn't know where she was. And she couldn't just kiss me without it turning into her sitting on top of me and trying to take it further. Thankfully, the junction of her legs was on my stomach and not my groin. I was equally thankful for the cold that helped impede my body's natural reaction to her. I had been kissing her back, but I forced my lips to still. It took a moment for her to realize I'd stopped, but when she did, she sat up, still sitting on me. Her breathing was quick. "Fuck," she whispered before locking eyes with mine. She shook her head. "Sorry." She licked her lips and I worried that they would become chapped. Bella moved off of me and I sat up. I hated that our connection could be so easily lost, so I grabbed her hands and drew her close to me. I could have been overcome with fear, but the logical side of my brain

told me that Bella liked me. She was here with me and she continued to show her vulnerability to me. She'd given up drugs and I knew, at least in part, it was because of me. "I llllike k-k-kissing you," I told her again. Although she smiled, she turned her head from me. "I'm cold. Do you want to go warm up?" I nodded and soon we were back inside her house. She set about making an early lunch. "How are your hands?" "O-okay." "Then come over here and stir this." "W-what are you m-mmmaking?" "Soup." I doubted that I'd ever had homemade soup. "You c-can m-make soup?" Bella rolled her eyes. "All you need is broth or stock, but since I don't have any, seasoned water, meat, and vegetables in a pot and you have soup. You could make soup." When I was at the stove, Bella told me to constantly stir the pot, but since it was only water and some small vegetables, I was pretty sure it didn't really need to be stirred. She was just giving me something to do. She wanted me closer. She wanted me involved. She wanted me to learn so that I could take care of myself, so I did what she said. We worked in silence until everything was in the pot. At that point, she moved slowly and deliberately. While I stirred, I found that she had moved into me. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and breathed her in. "You're so warm," she whispered. I came up with nothing to say back to her, so I just stood there with her. It was a little while later when I asked, "Do you w-want to get hhhhigh?" It came out sounding like an offer and I wished that I hadn't asked it. Bella sighed and moved away just a little. "Yes," she said, shame layering her voice, "I'm sorry." She didn't need to apologize. I knew it couldn't have been easy to change something like that when it was all you'd had for so long. People went to rehab for doing fewer drugs than I'd known Bella to do, but she'd given them up herself. I kissed the top of her head in a natural act of comfort, even though I had never done that before. "How can you quote bible verses like that?" My breath caught. Bella stepped away from me, taking my hand in hers and pulling me to the center of the kitchen where she sat down and brought me with her. Once I was seated across from her on the floor, she buried her hand in my hair and immediately I felt calm and secure. It was odd.

"I hhhhhad t-t-to kn-know them." "Why?" I shook my head, not wanting to explain at all. "I d-d-d-don't w-w-want to talk about the B-B-B-Bible, B-B-Bella." She moved. I watched her carefully. I knew that one day she was going to call my bluff on everything. "Charlie gave me this stuffed animal once," she began. She was on her knees, slightly closer to me as I sat cross-legged. She was so good at shifting conversations abruptly. I was thankful for it today. "I named him Seor Fluff-N-Stuff." "W-w-what did it look like?" "It was a dog with a sombrero. Renee made me burn it." Such sadness washed out of her and over me in that moment. I knew that Bella didn't trust her father, but it was fairly plain to me now that she loved him. That her mother used Bella's love for her father against her must have scarred her deeply. I didn't blame her for not wanting to care. "W-w-why w-was she sssso m-mean?" "How the fuck should I know, Edward?" Although her words were harsh, her tone was not. "It's not like the woman told me why she burnt my tongue. She never explained why she seemed to hate me when all I tried to do was make her happy." Bella stood up and moved back to the stove. "I fucking hate not being high." I watched her stir the soup again, her movements conveying her anger. I could understand her frustration at not being able to be whatever it was her mother wanted. No matter what I did when I lived with my father, I was never able to measure up. What I had to offer him was never enough and I was always wrong. I tried to be God's child of light in a house of darkness. Bella turned on the overhead fan and fiddled with the temperature knob, replacing the lid on the stock pot. I was moving to get up when she sat back down on the floor with me, her body swiveling, moving to be encompassed by mine. Her back was against my chest and the brush of her hair against my cheek relaxed me. As usual, Bella's anger was gone as quickly as it came. I ran my hands down the length of her arms and she sighed. "I'm tired." "D-d-do you sssleep o-okay?" Bella chuckled. "You should be a doctor. You ask doctor questions." My legs were on either side of her body as she leaned back against me even more. I couldn't see her face very well as it rested back against my shoulder, but I was pretty sure her eyes were closed. As her breathing leveled out, I slid my arms under hers, around her torso, hugging her to me. Even though the floor was hard and not very comfortable, I could sit here with her like this all day. She

felt so good next to me and thus far, she hadn't tried to make the situation sexual in the slightest, so I was able to really just focus on the feel of her. It was so nice to just be with her and feel relaxed. We were alone in her house and there was no pressure from adults or anyone else to act a certain way or talk about anything. We had absolutely nothing to do for hours and I was so lucky that she wanted to spend her day with me like this. It took another hour before the soup was actually ready to eat, and after a while we got up off the floor to finish cooking. It seemed like a long time for something like soup, but it was delicious. I made sure to tell her so, but like usual, she played it off as though everyone could do what she did. My hope was that one day she would see her skill as a talent and be able to acknowledge it. Up in her room, I sat on her bed with her right next to me, her head still resting against my shoulder. I was surprised to see that there was a piece of paper tacked up on her once-bare blue walls. It was just a copy of her work schedule, but it was something that tied her to this place. It bothered me that her mother had burned the gift from her father, or rather, made Bella burn it. I wondered how many things were lost to Bella like that. I never had many possessions until Carlisle came into my life, so I didn't know exactly what I would have felt at that kind of loss. But if I were to lose the only picture I had of my mother, my last and only connection to her, I would feel horrible. I didn't look at the picture much. I hadn't pulled it out of that drawer for months before Bella asked to see it. Sometimes when I thought about my mother, I couldn't remember exactly what she looked like, so the picture helped to draw it out of my memory. Bella had left the door open, simply because we were alone in the house. Her breathing had hollowed out and her body was heavy against mine. I was overjoyed that she could get a little sleep as she rested against me. She'd been looking so tired for quite some time now and I was thrilled that she was able to use at least part of this day as a way get some extra sleep. There was noise downstairs as the front door opened and I realized that it must have been Chief Swan home for lunch. Fear gripped me because he would come upstairs and find me with Bella in her bed. He called her name and I had to fight against everything in me to keep my body calm. As much as her father frightened me, I didn't want to wake her up. As I heard her father's footsteps on the stairs, I focused on keeping my breathing even. I hadn't done anything wrong and I wasn't looking to take advantage of his daughter. She had fallen asleep on me, and that was all. It shouldn't have been a punishable offense. He would come up and see me and if he got angry, I would apologize and leave. Even if he was really angry, Bella was around and I didn't think Chief Swan was the type of man to hurt someone in front of his daughter. I forced my eyes to stay open, even though I wanted to clench them shut. Would it have been better or worse for him to think both of us were sleeping or just her? We were both above the covers, both dressed, both obviously not doing anythingpunishable. I worried just the same. When he appeared at her door, he looked inside, and I could see all the emotions that flashed across his face before his eyes locked with mine, and I fought the urge to panic completely. The only thing that stopped me was that if I allowed myself to panic, Bella would awaken. I'd been preparing for his face to go red and his body to tense up, but while he seemed stiff, he didn't seem overly angry or upset at finding me in his house, in his daughter's bedroom, on her bed with her. "She sleeping?"

"Y-y-y-y-yes, ssssssir." "She's supposed to be grounded, you know." "Y-y-y-y-yes, sssssir." He paused. "She doesn't get enough sleep." While I was working up the words to respond, I found that I didn't have to. Chief Swan turned as if he was going to head back down stairs. He paused again before he went. "I'm grabbing lunch and I'll be leaving again in a half-hour." He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye again. "You hurt her in any way, Edward, and I'll find out." Although he didn't threaten me exactly, it was present, lying subtly under his words and tone. While I wanted to tell him that I would never hurt her, I knew it wouldn't matter to him what I said, so I simply answered him with another "Y-y-yes, sssir." I was sure if Bella had heard what he said, she would have been upset, but as I told her before, it was good that he cared enough. She slept for over an hour after her father had left and woke again with a start, pulling out of my arms and shoving me back. I was against the wall, so there was no place for me to go. She, however, was propelled backwards. "Shit." Instinctively, I reached out to steady her, but instead of grabbing her outright as I had before, I laced my fingers with hers. Eyes slightly wild, Bella moved to her knees. Her hands, still attached to mine, moved to her chest. I was silent, just watching her. Bella was quiet too, except for her breathing as her eyes darted around the room, seeming to search the corners and baseboards. After a moment, her fingers moved against mine and I pulled my hands away. "Hi." "O-okay?" I wondered what she had been dreaming about and whether or not it was something she felt she could share. Bella got off of the bed, and stretched, then moved to the opposite side of the room, the place farthest away from me. While she drummed her fingers against the doorway of her closet, she let her eyes come to rest on me again. "I must have fallen asleep." I nodded. "Youshould've woken me up." "You wwwere tired." I moved to get off of her bed, but stopped when she walked toward me. She crawled up the bed to me and once more I found her in my arms, her fingers picking at the collar of my shirt as she buried her

face in it. "Edward?" "Y-yes." "You make me feel better." ... I floated on a Bella-induced high as long as I possibly could. Her simple five-word statement was all that I could have hoped for. I wanted her to feel better and I was glad I was the one who could do that for her. Although Emmett wanted us to go sledding, I had no real intention of going. While I thought the snow was nice, I was being treated to yet another meal with Bella. Her father had come home, looking somewhat shocked that I was still here, but he said nothing. Almost immediately when the front door opened, Bella stopped talking, even though we hadn't been saying much. This time I didn't have to fight back the panic. I was getting more comfortable around him, even if he did make me nervous. Once again I found myself fascinated by their relationship. We were all in the kitchen. I was leaning against the counter just watching them. Bella chopped with precision and kept her head down. I imagined her neck must hurt after hours of cooking. Chief Swan stayed as physically far away from his daughter as possible. He stood opposite me, just watching her when she wasn't looking. Whenever she'd move, he'd move in the opposite direction. He tried to make polite conversation with her about how her day was and a few other topics like the fish in the freezer and going to La Push. Bella would only give him a few short answers. To how her day was, she replied, 'Good.' About the fish in the freezer, she said, 'It's still good.' And about going to La Push, she said, 'Have fun.' After a while he took a beer from the refrigerator and mumbled something about a game. Once he was out of the kitchen, Bella's posture changed and she talked more, but really only to instruct me on how to broil a steak. "W-w-where'd you lllearn all this ssstuff about c-cooking?" "Food Network," she shrugged and pushed around green peppers, onions, and mushrooms in a sauce pan. "And I took a cooking class in ninth grade. It was that or Child Development. Like I said, I if I have to cook, I might as well be good at it. You have to help 'educate' and care for children in Child Development. There was no way I was going to do that." "D-d-did you liiiike your other school?" Again, she shrugged. "It was a school, filled with people." "B-b-but did you like it?" "No," she said, shaking her head. "What about you? Did you like your school in Chicago?" "N-no," I said, forcing myself not to think about the cruelty of others.

"What happened to your hands? They're bandaged again." I would tell her what happened without telling her that I bit my hand. I knew better than to pretend that was a normal thing and I didn't want her to know about it. I would tell her that I broke a plate and that was all. I wouldn't mention Scripture either; that seemed to bother her and I had to admitt that it was strange and unsettling. "Esme and C-Carlisle t-told us they w-wwwere t-together." She turned off the heat to the saucepan. "Wow, that'skind of big, but what does it have to do with your hands?" "I b-b-b-b-b" I stopped trying when the word wouldn't come. "Just relax. You get so tense, it's no wonder you have trouble saying stuff sometimes." She stopped what she was doing and looked directly at me. "It's just me, Edward." I took a deep breath. It was just Bella. "I b-b-br-broke a p-plate." She just looked at me for a long moment before saying, "Well, stop hurting your hands, okay? I like holding them without the bandages and the risk of hurting you." I couldn't help but smile. She liked holding my hands. When one of her hands slipped into mine, I said, "B-Bella?" "Hmm?" She looked up from my hands with a smile. "You m-mm-make me happy." Although she was still smiling, it faltered just a bit. "That's because you don't know what's good for you." My fingers tightened on hers. "You're good fffffor m-me." She didn't dispute what I said, but she did pull her hand out of mine and return to cooking. "Why haven't you answered my e-mail?" I took in a deep breath, but made no effort to answer her. It was a horrible precedent to set if I wanted her to answer all of the questions I posed to her. There were two questions I'd just dodged. She'd asked about the e-mail and why my hands were hurt. I needed to answer one, so I picked the less dangerous of the two. "They w-w-w-w-w" Obviously I was having a terrible time speaking. "Just relax, Edward." I was trying to do just that. "They," I began again slowly, "w-w-want m-m-mmmme to sssee a n-new therapist." "Um, so you can't answer my e-mail because some new" I shook my head and sighed, hating that no matter what, I could never seem to effectively communicate. I held up my hands. "I b-broke the p-plate because I was upsssset."

"Why do you have to see someone new?" "B-because sssshe's t-t-too c-c-c-close to mm-mmme n-now." Bella took a deep breath and shrugged. "So you'll see a new therapist, it'll be better than having someone who's essentially your step-mother know all your business all the time." I shook my head vehemently. "I liiiiiike Esme. I d-d-d-don't w-wwwwant" "Edward, breathe, okay? You stop breathing when you get upset and then your stutter's worse." I looked down at my shoes. I didn't want her to think about my stutter. I didn't want to have this stutter. I wanted to shed it like old skin, like something I used to wear but no longer fit. But I couldn't. I looked back up when Bella stepped into me, her arms sliding around my waist and locking at my lower back. Her cheek was pressed against my chest and it felt good. My heart beat out a steady rhythm just for her to hear. My neck bent, allowing me to lay my cheek on top of her head and together we just stood there for long moments of peace. "You make me happy too." We ate dinner with her father almost completely in silence. After we ate, we were back in Bella's room again. At some point I would have to leave, but I seemed determined to spend absolutely every second I could with her, and she didn't seem to want me to leave. I was sitting in her rocking chair while she was on her bed, flipping a small paperback book over and over in her hands that she'd picked up off of her bedside table. I couldn't tell what it was. "So are we supposed to give some kind of report for the Brussels sprouts?" I sighed, but smiled anyway. We had discussed this several times but it was evident that she was having slight issues with her memory. Whether it was because we'd spoken about it when she was on drugs or that she was no longer doing drugs, I didn't know. We still hadn't specifically spoken about how she'd given up her well-used crutch. I didn't know if it would help or hinder her. To say that I was curious was an understatement. Even though I wanted her to get rid of those aspects of her life that no longer served her, I hadn't expected it to be this easy. It made me think of my mother. She was so incredibly tied to the drugs that I thought even the mention of being clean and sober would make her run far away. My mother never attempted to give up heroin as far as I knew. When my father would lecture and preach at the dinner table about the clean and righteous way of living, she always just stared at him. She looked as though she was listening, but I knew, even back then, that she was looking right through him. Her mind was far away. She would drink her coffee and nod at regular intervals. When he was finished with his sermon, she would go back to watching me eat and waiting on my father, refilling his glass of milk or getting him food. I remembered being very young, looking up at her as she tucked me into bed and asking her why she always had to do what she did. I don't remember her answer, but I do remember the sadness that swept over her face. She hugged me tightly and whispered, "I love you, Eddie-bear." "Edward?" I raised my eyebrows and brought my thoughts back to the present. "Hmmm?"

"You didn't answer about the sprouts." "Y-yes. W-we have to give a r-r-report." "So, like, standing in front of the class?" I nodded. It was not my favorite thing and had I not gotten a lab partner, I just wouldn't have gone to school that day. "What if we just skip?" she asked as if she read my mind. I smiled. "W-w-we'll l-lllose t-twenty p-points." "Totally worth it." Bella rested on back on the bed for a while. She seemed incredibly tired most of the time. I moved to the bed when Bella asked me to. Of course I felt nervous at the prospect, but it wasn't as if I'd never been on a bed with her before. We'd done this just a few hours before. It wasn't so much of being afraid of being close to her, it was more knowing where she'd take it if given the opportunity. Just as I thought, we were kissing after less than a minute. Not that I minded the kissing. It was the other stuff that was certain to come that made me uncomfortable. So as she scraped her teeth across my Adam's apple, I struggled to come up with questions to distract her. "B-B-Bella?" "Mmmm, yes?" she answered against my skin, her voice sending pleasant vibrations coursing down my body. "W-w-w-w-what's the m-m-most beautiful thing you've" "You." "C-c-c-c-c-c" "Relax, baby," she whispered before her tongue flicked out against my earlobe. Relaxing was not possible. Although I tried to stifle it, I could no longer hold back a soft moan. "You're so fucking hot," she whispered. Bella shifted and was practically on top of me, and yet, not sitting on me which was her normal route. I had to extract myself from the situation before it was too uncomfortable. "Fuck," she said, so quiet that I knew I wasn't meant to hear it. "Edward." "I c-c-can't." "Damn," she said in a breath. I felt horrible as I pulled away and almost jumped up. I wanted to be what she needed, but she couldn't really expect me to know what to do or how to react because I didn't. I'd never done any of

this with anyone before. I didn't even know how to give her what she wanted and Bella always wanted. With Jessica it hadn't been because I liked her, but with Bella I loved Bella. "Sorry." She took my hand and pulled me back to the bed. Together we leaned back against the wall. She laid her head back against me, her hands curled into fists. "I'm tired of trying to stay away from you, Edward." I didn't know if she was talking about emotionally or sexually, but I said nothing. "I'm sorry that I," she began but let her voice trail off. "I'll do better to control myself around you. I don't want you toI don't want to make you feel bad, Edward, and I'm sorry if I" She looked away and licked her lips. "I've never really met anyone like you." Bella buried her face into my chest further and brought one of her hands to hold one of mine. "Tell me about something happy." "Liiiike w-what?" I asked when I could think of nothing. She shrugged. "W-w-will you come over tomorrow?" She nodded against my chest. "Then you'll come o-over t-tomorrow and that is sssssomething hhhhappy." I didn't have to see her face, I could hear her smile in her voice. "I meant something in the past, Edward." I bet she rolled her eyes too. "Like, I've never had a sibling. What is that like?" I swallowed hard, trying to force down the instant panic. "Did you and your brother have fun together? Did you, like, play with Legos or whatever?" Involuntarily my hand squeezed hers as my stomach tightened, suddenly inhibiting proper digestion of the food Bella had made and I was overcome with waves of nausea. I felt sick. I tried closing my eyes but that made it worse. Bella was still waiting for an answer, so I shook my head. "What's his name? Have you told me?" I couldn't honestly remember if I had told her, but I ventured that I probably hadn't. I was almost sure that I'd never mentioned his name. She moved and while I didn't want her away, I could do nothing to stop her. "Edward?" I looked at her but didn't really see her. "I asked what your brother'sOw!"

My eyes widened at her sudden expression of pain. I followed her eyes to where our hands were connected. My brain wasn't functioning properly because I had no idea what would have been causing her pain. "Shit, Edward, let go." It was then when I realized I was gripping her hand incredibly hard; much, much too tightly for her delicate fingers to tolerate. I couldn't get my hand to let go but was thankful when she managed to wrench it free of mine. I knew my hands with their broken bones and barely scabbed-over cuts should have been hurting, but I felt nothing. At that point, my brain, body, and mouth caught up to each other. "Ssssssorry, B-B-Bella!" I moved off her bed quickly, my fists pressing into my thighs as I looked at everything but Bella. "I sssssshould g-g-g-g-g-go." I risked a glance at her. "Go?" she said as she eyed me cautiously. Her left hand cradled her right and my teeth clenched at the thought of causing her pain. "It's only eight. Charlie said you could stay 'til nine." My body was tight and I felt on the verge of having a real panic attack. I didn't want Bella to witness that, so I had to do my best to remain calm while extracting myself from my present situation. I couldn't answer her verbally, so I shook my head. Bella moved and it made me nervous. My muscles shook with tension as I watched her get up off of her bed to stand next to me. She didn't touch me, but her eyes were constant and they made me worried. "You can stay," she whispered. I wanted to stay but I couldn't, because if I did, Bella would never see me the same way again and there was no way that she would continue to want to spend time with me if she really saw my defects. I was incredibly uncomfortable. I didn't want to talk about my brother and I had hurt Bella's hand in response. And now I could barely breathe. "I hhhhhave t-t-t-to gggg-g-g-go." Her eyes narrowed and she extended her left hand just slightly toward mine. I had to remember how to breathe before she touched me. But it never happened. Her hand stopped in its path and then moved back to cradle its partner. "Okay," she said softly. "Will you message me later?" I nodded, almost overjoyed that she was letting me off the hook and allowing me to escape. I was able to leave her house without having to interact with her father. I drove home very carefully and had to actually pull over for about a half an hour until my body calmed down enough to make it less difficult to operate the car. My muscles were extremely tight. When I finally made it home, I ignored everyone and went straight to my room. I would have liked to have spoken with Alice, but she was with Jasper who was with Rosalie, who, as always, was with Emmett.

I didn't want to speak to any of them. Just Alice. I didn't even want to talk to Alice, really. I just wanted to sit with her because she always just knew how to help me without me having to tell. But she was busy, and so I was alone with my thoughts. ... On Wednesday, we had a two-hour school delay. Emmett woke us up at the regular time. He was practically salivating to get to school because he had some kind of presentation to give in his History class and always looked forward to getting up in front of people. I thought it might be because it was a fresh chance to wow them and once again earn their acceptance and love. So while Emmett was impatiently going over his speech notes, Alice and I spent a little time together. While we didn't talk about anything more than our English assignment and the vocabulary quiz, it was comforting just to be around her. She made me feel more like myself and I didn't have to worry about everything. Alice liked me. I knew that she did with every fiber of my being. Her soul was connected to mine somehow, and I never had to struggle with Alice. Everything had always been so easy between us. Just sitting in the same room she was, listening to her talk was so very soothing to me. Bella never mentioned my mini-panic attack from the night before, and we went through our day as usual. On Thursday, Bella and her father were over for dinner and a session with Esme. Bella made meatloaf and she had me make roast potatoes and Brussels sprouts. As soon as dinner was over and Bella and her father were behind the door with Esme, I put on my head phones and listened to music as I worked on my math homework. I didn't want to know things about Bella by simply over hearing them. That wasn't fair. I didn't want to know things that she didn't want me to know. Friday went fine as well until Bella and I returned to my house. She had to wait downstairs until after I met my new therapist. I sat very quietly and didn't look at him. Esme was in the room while the introductions were made, but then stepped out, letting me know that she'd be close if I needed her. The other doctor, who introduced himself as Dr. Benjamin Eleazar, didn't seem like he thought Esme should have said that. Psychiatrists and psychologists confused me. They each had their own way of doing things and seemed fairly harsh toward one another when they didn't agree on something. While I assumed he would start off by asking me something important or telling me what our time together was going to be like, he surprised me when he spoke. "My favorite composer is Chopin. He had music published by the time he was eight years old and is considered to be one of the most influential composers to have ever lived, but he would lock himself in a room for days, destroying things as he tried to figure out how to put what was in his head down on paper. Typically after weeks of isolation and desperation, he reverted back to the first version that had come to him." Composers were temperamental, like any artist or creative person, I supposed. "Beethoven was a highly gifted child, like Chopin and Mozart, but his father would parade him around

town all night long and he would play at tavern after tavern, crying because he was so exhausted. His father was an alcoholic who would force him to practice over and over, punishing him each time he made a mistake." I didn't want to hear any more. "DeBussy never spoke of his childhood so not much is known but we do know that it wasn't enjoyable for him. So what do you think, Edward?" I looked up at him when he said my name. "Do you think if Beethoven had a loving father and Chopin hadn't been so emotionally distraught while writing, that their work would be as famous as it is today? Do you think that these things helped them define themselves as creators? Would they have even gotten involved in music in the first place?" I didn't know and I didn't want to answer. I didn't want to be in this room and I didn't want to think about Beethoven being beaten for making a mistake. I didn't want to answer Dr. Eleazar verbally, so I shrugged. "I understand that you weren't exposed to music until you were twelve. Is that correct?" My eyes narrowed. My body felt heavy while my mind felt light and airy and removed, even though my thoughts were dark. It wasn't true. I'd heard music before then, so I shook my head. "When were you first exposed to music?" I didn't want to say anything, but he asked me a question and he'd been wrong, so I felt compelled to answer him, no matter how long it took. "Mmmmmmy m-m-m-mmm-mmm-mom ssssssang to me." ... Rosalie spoke about her father during group, and in a gesture of support, Emmett spoke about his. They were still sharing their secret looks and smiles, but I drowned it all out. I didn't want to hear about anyone's father right now. Bella sat right next to me and although we didn't touch, just the heat of her body next to mine comforted me. When group was finally over, I was incredibly relieved to go up to my room with Bella and just be alone with her, but Esme said she needed to speak with Bella and so I found myself alone in my room with thoughts of Beethoven. I understood what Dr. Eleazar was saying and my rational mind agreed with him. All of the emotion displayed within any musical work would have been altered had the composer had a different life. Who knew what Chopin would have grown to be if he'd been an even-tempered man? He might've been a banker. A loud knock sounded after what seemed like a long time, startling me out of my thoughts. Knowing it was Bella immediately brightened my mood. I was at the door quickly, excited to have her sharing my space again. When I opened the door, I just knew it was all wrong. Nothing about Bella was as it should have been.

She'd grown so calm in the past few days. She'd seemed, not peaceful, but just subdued and tired, but in this moment, she was so extremely agitated that I could feel it coming off of her. She didn't look me in the eye and when she came into my room, she didn't sit down and didn't move over to my books. She always started out by looking at my books. I was instantly nervous. "B-B-B-B-Bella?" Her whole body was moving quickly, everything except for her hands which were fisted against the outside of her legs. Her jaw was clenched and her lips pressed together. Her brow, which was typically stitched together with a hard crease, was even further furrowed today. When she spoke, I held my breath. "Did you tell Dr. Hale about Mike Newton?" Bella's normally mellow voice wavered, growing and shrinking almost at the same time. My stomach dropped and I could think of nothing but that she was angry at me because I'd told Esme about what Mike did to her. She didn't have to say anything else because I could feel every scrap of anger and hurt and betrayal she was feeling. My neck was stiff with tension as I struggled with my mind and body to do me a favor and work together just once so I could explain myself to her and to let her know that I didn't tell Esme and Carlisle about Mike Newton to give something away about her, but rather to explain something about me. But like always, my mind, body, and soul, went in three different directions, leaving me to sound like an idiot who had betrayed the only person I desperately needed. "B-B-B-B-Bella" "Don't say my goddamn name like it'll get you out of fucking answering the question." Her anger was hot and even though I was a safe distance from her, I still took a step back. Her voice was strained and yet stronger than before. "Did you tell her about what Mike did?" I couldn't catch my breath, but I desperately needed to be calm so that I might be able to fix this. "Y-y-y-yes, b-b-b-b-but" "That's some fucking shit, dude." She shook her head as she looked away. I had to explain fast because Bella didn't seem like she would have as much patience for my verbal ineptitude as she usually did. "Th-they asked m-m-m-me w-w-why I hhhhhhit M-M-M-Miiiiiike." She jutted her chin out and shook her head as if she were having a silent conversation with herself. Her profile was so poetically painful and I could see of tears welling in her eyes. I hated that I was the cause of those tears. "I would never tell anybody anything you told me. Ever. Even if they 'asked'. That's fucked, Edward." I couldn't respond because she wouldn't let me. "You're such a fucking hypocrite. You hide every fucking chance you get, a hell of a lot more than I do, and then you expect me to be completely fucking bare before you like it's no big thing." Bella moved to me. I kept telling my body to withdraw, but it was frozen. When she was about a foot

away, she paused for a brief second, just long enough to say, "Fuck you, Edward." I flinched as if she had threatened to hit me, but before I even had a chance to process it, she was gone. I cursed my frozen body. I wanted to go after her and make her understand; to make her see that I had to tell them not as a betrayal to her but as a way to show them a piece of me, to help them understand. But I couldn't move. My chest hurt. I focused on breathing. In and out, as calm as I could. I worked very hard on limiting my thoughts to only things vital to my survival. I focused on my heart rate, manipulating it like a musical composition until the thump-thump was back to a more pleasing rhythm. Once my body was under control, I turned to tackle the task of calming my own mind. Bella was angry. Bella was angry at me. But maybe she'd be on-line later and it'd give me a chance to explain. Or better yet, I'd write her an e-mail to explain. It took me an hour to be able to get up off the floor by my door and move to the computer. She wasn't on-line, so I typed the e-mail, deleted it all, typed another one and repeated that process one more time until I forced myself to push send. Bella didn't respond all night. Friday bled into Saturday and I found myself only leaving my room for coffee. Bella still wasn't on-line and there was no new e-mail. I called her house, but there was no answer. Saturday night at dinner I was what could only be described as a wreck. I couldn't seem to eat whatever was on my plate. Everyone tried to engage me at some point, but I could not see the point in responding to any one of them. I was very upset with Esme, but when she asked me to play the piano, I didn't refuse. I knew why she wanted me to play. She wanted to analyze the music to figure out my mood and tonight I would make it easy for her to understand what I was feeling. I sat at the piano with Esme and Carlisle in the room. I knew Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie were all nearby. I started playing Chopin's Piano Sonata #2, his Funeral March. Just like I knew she would, after only a few bars Esme came to sit next to me, and my first urge was to push her off of my piano bench because I didn't want her there, but I refrained. "Edward, what's wrong?" I didn't respond until I felt that she thoroughly got the point about this particular piece. Esme hated depressing music and I knew that this one would bother her. I hated Esme right now. She had no right to tell Bella that I told them what Newton did to her. "W-w-why d-d-did you t-tell B-B-Bella ab-b-b-b-bout mmmmme" I huffed in anger. It would take me

all night to finish my stupid question, so I simply said, "M-M-M-Mike N-N-N-Newton." My fingers pounded angrily at the keys and she didn't respond until the mood of the piece changed abruptly. The darkness of hard death chords were replaced by soft, reflective strains meant to induce memories of a good life. "This one is better," she said, obviously thinking that it was a separate piece. Really it was just the calm before the storm. "I didn't tell Bella anything you said. I asked her a vague question. I apologize if she made the connection and was angry with you. I would never tell her things you've told me, Edward." Her words did not nullify my anger. I brought back the true nature of song in a hard, almost violent juxtaposition of the interlude. Somber, painful, passionate anger filled me as the song returned to its morbid tones. Chopin had written it so the interlude transitioned peacefully into a soft reprise of the death march, but I practically slammed my broken fingers that had just begun to stop hurting, against the keys. I ignored my aching fingers. The dull ache was rapidly transforming into searing pain. By the time I'd gotten to the end, I didn't care what Chopin's intentions were. I finished it much more harshly than it should have been played. I didn't want to sit next to Esme and I didn't want Bella to be mad at me any longer. Thankfully, Esme stood up and stepped away. I hoped she felt my anger. Unable to control myself, I stood up abruptly just as my fingers pounded the final chord, and knocked the bench on its side. My next action was to slam the cover down over the keys, creating a satisfying crash that would probably ensure the need to have the piano tuned before long. Had I slammed it any harder, something would have broken. ...

Chapter 43: Neither Shall There Be Bella Thursday marked something like nine days since I'd gotten high and it wasn't getting any easier. I threw up at least once a day and I slept only an hour or two at night. I slept mostly at school and oddly enough, on Edward. Tuesday was just odd. I spent the whole day with Edward out in the snow, eating soup and sleeping on my bed. Then I went overboard as usual with groping him, and he got weird and I said I was sorry, and then it was better until I asked him about his brother. That was when he practically seized and had to leave. He looked like he was going to faint or throw up or something, so I didn't push it. I just let him go. That's what I would have wanted if I was him. I wished that whatever it was that bothered him so much, didn't. Or that he'd at least tell me about it. I could help him like he helps me. On Wednesday morning, Charlie cooked me breakfast again. He made me pancakes and they were pretty good. I didn't bother telling him that I couldn't have the maple syrup because of my diabetes. I opted for the agave nectar instead.

He noticed and said something about it and we had a discussion about the glycemic index. It was annoying. Just before he put on his coat to head out, I said, "Jacob hasn't been in school lately." "He won't be back until next week." "He got suspended?" "He was removed and sent to a detention center for a couple of days," Charlie replied, shrugging on his coat and then sitting down on the third stair to tug on his boots. His words shocked me. Surely beating the snot out of a little fucker like Newton didn't warrant a fucking detention center for fuck's sake. Edward had done it and all he got was a suspension. "What? Why?" He sighed, but answered me. "To show him where he was headed. He's had plenty of" I interrupted Charlie, needing to know t what it was that Jacob did. I vaguely recalled his fight with Newton but I had no idea what the result had been. I was pretty messed up that day, both when I was sober and then later when I'd snorted that shit from Tyler. "But why? What did he do?" "He put the Newton kid in the hospital. From what everyone says, Mike did nothing" I cut him off again. "You didn't send Edward to" "Edward's not a drug dealer, Bella." Jesus, Jacob only sold pot; he wasn't a kingpin or anything. "Really, Charlie? Jacob's your friend's son and you" It seemed neither one of us was ready to let the other one finish. "I had no other choice. I've given that boy all the chances I can give." I thought about Billy and how Jacob had to lift him to move him from his chair to the couch. "What about his dad?" "Sue's helping out," he said with a sigh. I watched as Charlie stood up and zipped his coat. He grabbed his keys and made to open the front door. "Do you know why he sells pot, Charlie? To take care of his dad. It's not fair that he's got to do the laundry and the dishes and the cooking and have to care for his dad physically and financially. He can't even stand. Jake has to" "I know their situation, Bella. It's why Jake hasn't been put away sooner. Look," he said, his eyes softening just a little, "I've known Jake since he was born. I was at the hospital two hours after he came into this world. I was there when he buried his mother and I was there when he found out that Billy would never walk again. I was there after his older sister got married and moved away and when his little sister ran away. But the kid has issues. Mike was just back to school and" "Mike deserved it."

Charlie narrowed his eyes at me and suddenly I felt incredibly exposed, like he could see right through me. It would have been the perfect time to be high. I missed weed and the floating detachment it brought me. "I've ignored my obligation to punish Jacob long enough. What do you want me to do? The law is black and white." "And the world is a fucked-up shade of gray, Charlie." His eyebrows rose for a moment before he shrugged and said, "Make sure you finish eating and take your blood sugar." I rolled my eyes. Even when I was sober him pretending to care about my diabetes pissed me off. The best thing that happened on Thursday was Edward's smile. He hadn't smiled, not even a crooked, half-smile, since I'd asked about his brother. The thing that took the most energy out of me was my therapy session with Esme and Charlie. It seemed like they were going to be weekly occurrences and the thought of it nearly drained any stores of energy I had. "First," Esme said, before I'd even really gotten comfortable, "I take it based on what your father has said that you have chosen to deal with your drug use on your own, and that you do not want to go to a treatment center." I rolled my eyes. Of course I didn't want to go to rehab. "Yes." She smiled, her tone light. "That's good, but should you need help, please let someone know. There are other options besides rehab, and you'll need support." I was sure that a sleepy little town like Forks had several alcoholics and a thriving 12-step business, but I wasn't interested in any of that, so I stayed quiet. "We covered a lot of ground last time, so let's slow down and dig just a little deeper into some of the things that came up last week. Charlie, what do you have to say in response to Bella's concern about where you were all those years? Do you have an answer for her about why you didn't know what was happening in Phoenix?" I hated this and I wanted to be high. This shit was stupid. The whole fucking thing was out in the motherfucking open and it felt weird and wrong. I spent my whole life hiding this shit, and now here it was, out there. My skin itched at the thought of Charlie actually knowing what happened in Phoenix. It felt like everyone fucking knew. Charlie cleared his throat, looking away from me. He shifted, his entire body conveying his discomfort with the questions, with the situation, and with the fact that he would actually have to give voice to some of these things. "I called every day for a while." "No, you didn't," I replied quickly. "Yes, I did," he answered right back, voice tight like he was really stressed. "Your mother would always say that you were at your swim class or the doctor or gymnastics." "I've never been to swim class, Charlie." I spat out his name, hoping that he heard every bit of anger I

placed in it "Yeah," he said, nodding, still not looking at me. "Yeah, I sort of figured that out here not too long ago." "Why did you readily believe your ex-wife that Bella was never home? And were there any other indications that perhaps Bella wasn't being cared for and outright abused?" Internally, I smiled at Dr. Hale's questions. It seemed as though she was going to focus on Charlie this time, and that meant I was off the hook. I was also more than a little anxious to hear what he had to say about it all. "Look, I wish I could go back and do everything different, but I" "You didn't want to know," I cut him off quietly. "It was much easier for you to just have a daughter that lived out-of-state, right? It was a relief when you sent me back every summer. You didn't have to see what a huge mistake you made with Renee." "I didn't make a mistake with Renee." Charlie's voice was quiet, and he wouldn't look at me. "She might have made a mistake with me, but I loved your mother. I had no idea that she could be capable of hurting her own child. If I knew that, I would have" When Charlie didn't continue, Dr. Hale asked another question. "Charlie, have you asked Bella exactly what Renee did to her?" Charlie finally looked at something other than the large quartz crystal on Dr. Cullen's bookshelf as he focused directly on her. "No." "Do you not want to know?" He was quiet and then he bent his neck to one side and then another, cracking it. "No, I don't want to know. I'm sure that makes me a horrible parent, but I don't think I want to know the evils that my ex-wife inflicted upon my own daughter while I was dozens of states away thinking that Bella was happier with her mother. Sorry, but I don't want to know." "What if Bella needs to tell you?" Charlie sighed and looked at me. "Do you want me to know?" It was my turn to look away. "No." Dr. Hale chuckled lightly. "I hope the two of you can see your similarities." Shaking her head, the small smile drifted from her face as she regarded me once more. "Would you tell your dad something if he asked about it?" I folded my arms over my chest, but answered, "Yes." "Charlie, ask her something." It took him a moment and he looked incredibly uncomfortable. I noticed that how he sat in the chair mirrored my own posture, so I unfolded my hands and brought my legs up to sit cross-legged. Finally, after running a hand down his face, he asked, "Did your mother help at all with your diabetes?" Again, I smiled to myself, finding the whole question utterly ridiculous. It took a lot of energy to keep

my voice and tone calm. "No. Renee would barely take me to the doctor when she had to." "Please go on, Bella," Dr. Hale urged. "Renee wouldn't buy my test strips, my lancets, or my insulin. There were a couple of agencies where I could get free supplies but they started asking questions after I went a few times in a row. I had to go after school because if I went during school hours, they called Child Protective Services and" When I let myself trail off, Charlie asked, "Why didn't you ever tell them?" I laughed out loud at his question, but didn't answer it, choosing to finish my earlier statement. "I took the tips off of tables at restaurants to be able to buy them. The pharmacy kept all that shit behind the counter, so I couldn't just take what I needed." "Do you feel bad about doing that?" I looked at Dr. Hale to find her scribbling something on her yellow legal pad. "Yes." "But you had no other choice?" "Right." To be honest, I was pretty numb about the whole thing at this point. It wasn't that I was proud to have stolen money from people, usually women, who all worked very hard. My numbness stemmed more from the fact that if I hadn't done it, I would have never gotten the medicine or supplies I needed. I remembered being young and accidentally giving myself too much or not enough insulin. It wasn't fun and I worked very hard to avoid it. Renee was never very comforting and usually just walked out of the room. She wouldn't come back until my blood sugar returned to normal and I could function again, and then she pretty much expected me to get on with whatever I was supposed to be doing before I felt sick. "Charlie," Dr. Hale started, folding her hands over the notebook, "what do you think about Bella having to steal in order to manage her diabetes?" "I wish I would have known." "If you had known, what would you have done?" "I would have sent the pharmacy money for her." Dr. Hale sat back in her chair and I looked away. Even though there hadn't been an onslaught of emotions during this conversation, I still felt emotionally wiped. "Did you send money for Bella?" I snorted. Of course he didn't. "I sent money to Renee every month. Hell, my wages are still being garnished even though she's living with me. But I always sent a check for Bella above and beyond what the court garnished directly." That was news to me. "Did your mother ever use the money from your father for your benefit?" I shrugged. How the hell would I know? I didn't even know there was money until just now. "I'm sure that maybe she used some for rent or whatever."

"Bella, do you wish your relationship with your father was different?" I rolled my eyes and focused them on something else while I shrugged. "Whatever." "It's not really a 'whatever' question, Bella," Dr. Hale said, her voice taking on an edge. "I don't really give a shit about my relationship with Charlie." She glanced at Charlie. I would not. "We both know that's a lie." "No, it's not." "Yes, it is. You care deeply about your father, as he does for you, but you have an issue with respecting him. You're very angry at" I sat up straight, my legs uncurling as my fingers dug into the armrests. "Why should I respect him? He basically knows nothing about me. He's never once cared enough to find out anything out about me. He knows my name and my birthday. I'm supposed to respect him because he's the 'bare-minimum' father?" Charlie sat up straight now too, his head turned in my direction, his eyes hard as they danced about. "You were born September 13th, 1992 at 8:52 in the morning. You were seven pounds, two ounces and twenty-one inches long. You had a full head of hair and the brightest brown eyes anyone at the hospital had ever seen. When you were six months, you had this Glowworm thing that you loved. You liked anything that was shiny or glowed. You started walking the day before your first birthday and your first word was 'cookie,' followed by 'daddy,' only it was more like 'dawa,' but I knew what you meant. Right before your mother left, your Grandma Marie bought you one of those dancing Elmo things and you laughed like I'd never heard you" "Shut up," I whispered as my eyes watered. I pushed back the ridiculous tears and went for something else, although it seemed the only thing I was able to do tonight was roll my eyes. "What was my favorite movie when I was ten? Or my favorite subject in school when I was in junior high? Or hell, even now? Do you know any of that? Do you even give a shit what my opinion is on.anything?" He slumped back down in his chair and dragged a hand down his face, then focused on Dr. Hale. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I can't ever make up for not knowing. I can't ever take away anything that happened. She'll always feel like I wasn't there for her." "Because you weren't," I added, knowing that it wasn't a helpful addition to the conversation. "Why don't you ask Bella what she needs from you?" Charlie looked at me, expectantly, as if I should just answer the question, but I was going to make him ask. He sighed. "Bella, what can I do to make it better?" I hardened my voice and my expression even more. "You can do what you've always done: leave me the fuck alone and realize that apart from sharing some DNA, you're not my father. I barely know you and you know shit-all about me and at this point? I'm pretty much cool with that." The room was silent for a while before Dr. Hale finally broke it. "This is difficult for both of you and I know that it seems as though the gap between you is so wide that it will never be bridged, but it's obvious that you both love each other, you just have no real understanding of how to show it."

She focused on Charlie, "Bella's never really experienced what it's like to have a parent who cares. Regardless of the reasons, you weren't there and she's had no experience with parental affection." Turning to me, she said, "You don't know your father's feelings or what he's gone through in his life as a whole. You are so closed-off that even the idea that Charlie cares about you, frightens you." I shook my head, but she continued. "What would you do if you actually let yourself believe that he cares about your well-being? What would you do if you let yourself see the guilt he has over not being able to protect you?" "He doesn't care about me." "I love you, Bella." I ground my teeth together and trained my eyes on the spot where the baseboards joined in the corner of the room. "Even if you don't believe it, I love you." ... For ten days, I hadn't popped a pill, put fire to dried leaves, or snorted anything up my nose, and for ten days, my tooth hurt like a bitch. It made the whole left side of my face hurt like hell. I woke up on Friday with major pain and took an Extra-Strength Tylenol, but that didn't help at all. Neither did two more. Obviously, Friday started out shitty and as my tooth continued to throb during my breakfast with Charlie, I kept telling myself that I'd be better with Edward and he'd be here to pick me up soon. I just had to get through Charlie's oatmeal. He was going to work later every day, making me breakfast and shit like I was an idiot who couldn't manage feeding herself. Then my throat began to hurt. I didn't bother mentioning it to Charlie. Why would he care? I slept through all of my morning classes, except Photography, but that was only because Alice and I were in the darkroom and I was on my feet the whole time. I made the mistake of trying to eat at lunch. There was pineapple in the stupid fruit salad and it burned my tongue. I never ate school food and the one time I did, the stupid acid made my tongue raw. I was so fucking stupid. I knew that highly acidic foods never felt good. I threw up after Biology. The pineapple had stung, but the bile seared. I didn't tell Edward any of this because he would worry. I thought my luck had changed when I wasn't called to have a session with Dr. Hale, but I still had to sit through horrible stories about fathers. Rosalie's dad was an abusive drunk and Emmett's dad never looked at him. It turned out that my luck hadn't changed at all. Dr. Hale stopped me before I made it to Edward's room. She asked me about drugs. I told her that if it were up to me, I'd be high right then, but I was staying sober for Edward. I just didn't want him to worry about me. That kid worried enough about everything else. "Do you find it difficult to refrain?"

"Sometimes." That was only partially true. Every minute was a challenge because getting high was so easy. "Well, even the tallest mountain is conquered one step at a time. You just have to push through and keep going." She sounded like one of those motivational calendars, but I countered, "It's not hard, like, physically." That was sort of a lie, but she didn't need to know about my irregular heartbeat and the night sweats that kept me up. She certainly didn't need to know about the voice that was louder than ever inside my head. "I just don't see the point," I finished. "You don't see the point of being sober?" I didn't answer and I could practically see her mind shifting gears. "What did you think about group tonight?" I shrugged. "Your expression was very interesting when the others spoke." I thought of Rosalie talking about her father hitting her. I saw Jasper's face as he reacted to her words. At first there was an instant flash of anger, which quickly morphed into a calm nothingness when Alice reached for his hand. For her part, Dr. Hale was fairly stoic throughout the whole thing, but I could see the hidden horror and concern as her daughter spoke. She probably felt guilty about that shit. "Did you make any connections?" "What?" "While Rosalie spoke about her dad, did you connect with any of it?" I swallowed hard because I had made a connection. "Yes." "Will you tell me?" I felt sick and I really wanted to be high. "Um" "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." My brow creased as I looked up in shock. It was the first 'out' she'd ever given me. "Your husband was an ass." "Yes." "But he only hit you and your kids when he was drunk." "Yes." "And he only ever hit you guys." "And?" Her voice was remarkably calm.

It took me a few moments to answer, but I finally did. "Renee wasn't like that." "What was Renee like?" "She was" I really wanted to be high. I felt agitated and it was making me angry that I wasn't high. I couldn't make sense that Dr. Hale's husband was jus t mean but my mother wassomething more. "Bella?" "Yeah?" "You were saying something about Renee," she prompted. "Yeah." "What was it?" I didn't really want to say. "Um, she wasn'tI mean, she wassadistic." I could think of no other word or term for the woman who burned my tongue for fun and laughed when she hurt me enough that I begged her to stop. "What would she do?" "No." "No?" "I'm not telling you." Dr. Hale sighed. "I can't help you if you don't let me in and tell me at least some of the painful secrets you've held all your life." "You can't help me anyway." She studied me for a moment and when she spoke, she used the softer tone she'd been using lately. "Can we talk about help?" I didn't understand exactly what she was asking, but I nodded. "Did anyone ever help you? Did you ever report your mother? Did you ever tell a school counselor or a teacher about what happened?" I held back my snort and stopped myself from rolling my eyes again. She didn't really get it. "Why? So they could call Child Protective Services and they'd send an overworked, underpaid case worker who would be snowed over by Renee's at-will charm? So that Renee could have fun being a liar and tell them about how it wasn't her? So she could create random reasons like my fictional boyfriend when I was old enough or how clumsy and stupid I was when I was little? All so when the case-worker left, I got shoved into walls or got choked by a foot on my neck?" I shook my head and still did not look at her. "What's your next question? Why the gym coach never saw any bruises? Because the gym teacher was a man who was too busy moaning about how he

could've been in the NFL if his knee had just held out one more year." Dr. Hale took in a deep breath and nodded at my words. "I understand that people have failed you, but how do you feel about reporting Renee now that you're away from her and safe?" "Safe? Right. You're safe. The asshole that beat you is dead." "Doesn't your mother work with children?" I clenched my teeth. It was always a mystery to me that she could be so kind to other people's children but hate me with everything she was. "Not anymore. She got fired." "Why?" "I don't know. She was pissed when she got home, though." "Did she hurt you?" There was no need to answer that. Like most of the questions she asked, I was sure that Dr. Hale knew the answers before she asked them. "Statistically speaking, victims of childhood sexual abuse have a higher-than-average rate of being victimized again later in life." Obviously, she was jumping topics. I picked at my cuticles. "Has that happened to you, Bella?" I pushed the cuticle on my left index finger down until it hurt. "Bella." I finally looked up and bit the inside of my cheek, focusing on the sharp pain that contrasted with the dull ache of my tooth and throat. "What?" "Has that happened to you?" "Has what happened?" Her head was cocked to the side and the fingers of her right hand loosely held the ballpoint pen that she normally used to jot down things during our sessions. "Apart from your mother's boyfriend, have you ever been sexually assaulted?" My knees started bouncing. Her definition of assault could have been very different from mine, but I didn't want to ask her to clarify, so I looked back down and picked at my nails some more. "Bella?" "What?" I asked a little too loudly, wishing she would just let me go to Edward's room. I wanted to look at his books and listen to his music and hold his hand and forget about the shit that Dr. Hale seemed determined to pry from me.

"Bella?" "What?" I answered, even louder than before. I wished she would just stop saying my fucking name for one fucking second and let me be. "Will you tell me about the party you went to the night your father brought you here?" My heart felt like it stopped for a few seconds. Why the fuck was she asking about sexual assault one minute and then wanting to know about the party where Newton fucked me the next? It was a strange shift in topics. She couldn't have known about it. Unless Edward told her. Although it felt as though I couldn't breathe, I was sure that my chest continued to rise and fall rapidly. It was as if some kind of band was around my torso, squeezing everything inside. Edward wouldn't have told her. Would he? Fuck. I hoped he hadn't told her. Why would he have told her? "Why do you want to know about that party?" "Did anything happen that night that would have played a part in triggering" Angry tears burned in my eyes. My toes curled in my shoes as my fingers tightened together, causing my knuckles to go white. "Charlie in my goddamn room was the fucking trigger. Why the fuck do you want to know about the party?" "Bella, you need to relax, it was just a simple question." My jaw clenched and I swallowed back the rising bile. It wasn't just a fucking question. No one here just asked simple fucking questions. They all had points, meanings, things they were supposed to draw out. She asked me for a fucking reason. Edward told her. I was sure of it. "What was the name of Renee's boyfriend?" Fuck that. Bitch Hale could go fuck herself if she thought I was going to answer anything. She could fucking answer some of my questions for once. "What the fuck did Edward tell you?" Hale blinked. "About what?" I took two poorly measured breaths and tried to keep my insides from streaming out in red, hot liquid hate. "About the fucking party."

"I asked about the party because it seemed like" I wasn't going to let her finish spewing her stupid lies. I wasn't an idiot. "You and Edward are fucking liars." My whole body shook. "Edward has nothing to do with this, Bella. I asked a question about an event on the night you had such a violent reaction to someone being in your room. It was a simple question to help me understand if the two were related in some way. Your reaction right now validates that something did happen that night, other than just finding your father in your room." I felt like throwing up until there was nothing left inside of me. I wanted to swing my fist into something very hard. I wanted to snort a bunch of coke until my brain and nose cartilage were nothing but mushy goo. I wanted to be anywhere but here. "Bella?" "Quit saying my fucking name." The bitch's voice was soft and nurturing. "Will you please talk about what's going on inside your head right now?" "Fuck off. You and Edward have no right to talk about me." Hale nodded. "Okay, let's just back down a bit and we can talk about something else." "You can talk about whatever the fuck you want. I'm done." She tried to talk to me for a little while longer, but I remained silent. I tasted my anger in my mouth when she finally released me and I made my way to Edward's room. I knew his door would be unlocked, waiting for me, but I knocked anyway. No matter how pissed I was, I didn't want to barge into someone else's room. He could either let me in or not. I didn't look at him when I brushed past him, but I bet his brow was creased and his hair was a mess. Although I wanted to be soothed by his books, I couldn't let myself go to the bookcase. I was mad at him. "B-B-B-B-Bella?" Normally, I really enjoyed the sound of his voice, but tonight it sent me into some kind of rage. All I could think about was his betrayal of my trust. Dr. Hale wasn't meant to know the things Edward knew. The thought that he'd told her something like that made me sick. I honestly felt physically sick. "Did you tell Dr. Hale about Mike Newton?" He looked so fucking guilty. I didn't really have to wait for an answer to know.

"B-B-B-B-Bella" he said again, as if saying my name would explain it all and make it better. "Don't say my goddamn name like it'll get you out of fucking answering the question." He backed away even though he was nowhere near me. "Did you tell her about what Mike did?" "Y-y-y-yes, b-b-b-b-but" He was practically panting and as much as he needed comfort, my anger kept me from giving it to him. I wanted to make it better for him, but I stomped that feeling down real quick. That was precisely what had gotten me into this mess. "That's some fucking shit, dude." "Th-they asked m-m-m-me w-w-why I hhhhhhit M-M-M-Miiiiiike." I shook my head. "I would never tell anybody anything you told me. Ever. Even if they asked. That's fucked, Edward." I should've just left the room, but I had an overwhelming need to release this emotion on someone. Edward had told Hale something he had no right to tell her. He always pushed me to tell him shit and yet rarely gave me anything back. He fucking took and I knew it was the kettle and pot scenario, but it pissed me off. I'd given him information, fucking power, and he'd just given it away like it belonged to him, like he had a fucking right to it. "You're such a fucking hypocrite. You hide every fucking chance you get, a hell of a lot more than me, and then you expect me to be completely fucking bare before you like it's no big thing." I moved closer to him, my anger at my own stupidity boiling over. I hated myself for being so stupid enough to tell some fucking guy any-fucking-thing about myself. In this moment, I hated Edward. "Fuck you, Edward." I left quickly, trying not to care that he was obviously upset. It was stupid that I had to fight back this urge to comfort him. He betrayed me. He got me to tell him about shit and then he told everyone about it. I didn't need to comfort him. It didn't take me long to walk to the bus stop, mainly because my anger propelled my legs to move faster. The bus dropped me off close to the Thriftway, so I went in and asked Maria at the customer service desk if I could use the phone. I called Jacob's house. Billy answered and when I asked to speak to Jake, he told me that he wouldn't be home until tomorrow. I was fucking pissed that I'd ever flushed those last pills from Tyler! While I still had Jacob's glass bat, I had no pot to fill it with. I could've gone home and cleaned it, collecting all the resin and smoking it down. Resin was nasty as sin, but it got you higher than fuck. But it smelledbad. Charlie would definitely smell it. I hung up and went to the dairy to find Riley. He was in the cooler. I watched him for a moment as he finished stacking cases of yogurt. I could fuck him right here in the cooler, the heat between canceling

out the forty-degree temperature. I bet he fucked like a god. His hands and arms were so fucking strong. I bet he could strip me of all my clothing and be deep within me in less than a minute. Jesus fucking Christ, I bet he would feel fucking fantastic! He would suck on my neck and grab my tits hard, but carefully, and he'd thrust into me with perfect rhythm and speed. He'd make me come quick and over and over again until my throat hurt even more than it already did and I lost my voice from screaming too much. But then fucking Edward Cullen's puppy face interrupted my sexy-Riley-in-the-dairy-cooler fantasy. I clenched my teeth and my hands curled into my side. "Swan? You don't work Friday nights." "Do you have any weed?" ... "Do I look high?" I asked Riley as we sat outside Charlie's house in his ancient red pick-up truck. Riley laughed at my question. "Of course you look high. You blazed, Bella." He was right. I'd smoked more than I needed. I was sure the smell clung to me as well. "Fuck." "Don't tell your dad it was me that got you high if you get caught." I shook my head. "Pussy." Riley smiled but explained, "Your dad busted a friend of mine two years ago for possession and I have no need to meet your father like that." "Charlie's like a big fucking dog or something. He barks but in the end he just wants to lick your cheek, smell your ass, and get scratched behind the ears." Riley laughed but I didn't know if it was because my words were slightly incoherent or if he really thought I was funny. "Maybe for you, but for the rest of us, he's a scary man." Whatever. I let my eyes slip closed. I could fuck him right now in his truck, outside Charlie's house. No one had to know. It would feel so fucking good. Edward appeared behind my eyelids again. "Shit." "What the hell's with you tonight?" I shook my head as I popped open the door. "Nothing. Thanks for smoking me out, Riley." He said something, but I was already out and swinging the door closed. Charlie was passed out in the recliner, an old football game from the 80's casting blue shadows on him and the beer cans surrounding him. I didn't even look at the computer when I entered my room. Although the pain in my tooth and throat had lessened, there seemed to be an ache somewhere deep

inside of me, roughly the size and shape of Edward fucking Cullen. It was stupid and I hated that it hurt. I was so stupid. Why the fuck did I think that I could break all my own fucking rules without consequences? I was pissed at Edward for telling Hale about Mike fucking me, but I hated myself for giving him that power to begin with. I'd been setting myself for this for many, many weeks now. I was so fucking stupid. I could not believe that I had done the things I did with him. That dance! That fucking dance should have never happened and certainly not the stupid hand-holding of the past week or so. What the fuck had I been thinking? I had even fallen asleep on him more than once. What a fucking idiot I was. I'd let myself trust him and it was just fucked up because now look. I was all hurt and damn-near in fucking tears over some high school guy. What. The. Fuck? This was exactly why I'd tried so hard not to be 'friends' with anyone. It didn't matter who they were or what they said to your face, people were out to fuck each other over. Now what the fuck was I supposed to do? Who the fuck was I supposed to sit with at lunch now? I couldn't stand to sit with Angela anymore because Newton sat at the same table. And every time I thought about or saw Mike Newton, I was reminded that he'd fucked me. His stupid fucking twisted cock had been inside of me. Fuck! Mike Newton. I should have never told Edward what had happened. Yeah, momentarily it felt good to share that shit with someone. I wouldn't lie and say that I wasn't happy that Edward had beat the shit out of him at least partially because of what he did, but now look at what the fuck happened. Other fucking people knew. All because my big mouth told Edward. And for what? Comfort? I'd never needed that shit before. This whole thing was fucked. Riley's weed wasn't all that great. Fucking Mexican brick weed meant for people who didn't know any better. The buzz only lasted about a half-hour. Now I was stuck. Tears pricked at the edges of my eyes and then I could no longer contain them. Shhhh. No tears, beautiful Bella. I shook my head, not wanting his fucking voice inside of it. Shhhh, stop crying. It can't hurt that bad. This day was fucked. My eyes were shut tightly as my stomach churned at the words that reverberated in my brain.

Don't worry, dirty girl, your mom's gone. It's just me and you. She can't hurt you when you're with me. Why the fuck wouldn't this shit just end? My body was so tight as endless tears fell. My mind raced as I tried to remember if I had stashed anything around my room. I was pretty sure all the weed Jacob last sold me was gone. I couldn't risk the resin smell and I'd flushed the pills down the toilet in my moment of mental insanity. Stupid me, trying to be good for Edward. I told you to come here. I sank down the wall next to my computer and clutched at my head and hair as if the pain of tugging on it would be enough to drown out that motherfucker's voice. It wasn't. Do you want me to tell your mother, dirty girl? I threw up in my trashcan. What do you think she'll do to you when she finds out what you've done and how fucking dirty you are? After I cleaned the trashcan and myself up in the bathroom, I took three Extra-Strength Tylenol PMs and an hour later, my body was heavy and my mind was quiet. But I still couldn't sleep. I stared at the corner next to my door until dawn broke. ... It was nearly noon when knocking woke me up. I hadn't realized that I'd finally fallen asleep. "What?" I croaked none too nicely. "Work's on the phone." Fuck. "Tell them I'm sick." There was no way that I was going in there today. "Are you?" Charlie asked. "Who fucking cares? Just fucking tell them I'm not coming in." Around two, I called Jacob to see if he was there. Thankfully, he answered the phone. "Holy shit, it's Bella Swan. Nice of you to call," he said, his voice saturated with sarcasm with a bitter twist. "Come pick me up." I heard him sigh. "Please? I need you." He was silent for a moment and then asked, "You need me?" "Yes," I pleaded, hating how absolutely needy I sounded.

"You don't need me." "Yes, I do." "Don't you mean, you need some weed?" That was true, but Jacob had the weed and thus, I needed him. "No." "You need me?" he asked again. "Yes." "Not Edward?" My teeth clenched at the name and I stopped myself from snarling at him. "No." "I'll pick you up in twenty minutes." Forty minutes later, I sat next to Jacob on a large piece of driftwood looking out at the frigid Pacific and up at the cliffs. It was freezing, but Jake sat close and he was nearly always warm. "How was the detention center?" "Same as last time," he said with a shrug, "One big pissing match." I turned to him and studied his black eye. "Is that from Newton?" "Nah. That prick couldn't land a punch to save his life." "Why did you fight with him?" Jake rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on." "What?" He shook his head. "It was all over school, Bella. He told everyone how he fucked you in the bathroom. And that night you were all fucking weird and said you passed out or whatever. I fucking beat the shit out of him because what he did was fucked and it kind of sucks that you're all shocked that I'd do that for you." He was sitting, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. I didn't know what to say, so I turned my eyes back to the whitecaps. "I've known you since before I can remember. Charlie used to tell us that you'd be coming up and I'd get all excited because I'd get to spend time with you." I ignored Jacob's little declaration of excitement over my past visits to Forks and asked, "You didn't tell Charlie, did you?" "Tell him what?" "About Newton." He sighed and I wished he'd break out the fucking weed already.

"Of course I didn't tell your dad. I didn't say shit to anyone." It was more than I could say for Edward. "Thank you," I said sincerely. Silence loomed until I just had to ask. "Can we smoke?" His face loosened for a moment before he smiled. "Yeah. I didn't offer becausewell, last time you saidI mean, with Cullen and all." "Yeah, well, fuck that, right?" I watched impatiently as he packed up his green glass bowl with some terrific-looking pot. Later I found myself back at his house, pressed up against his bedroom door with his mouth attached to my neck. He felt so fucking good. I probably could have come from just his mouth on my neck. My feet were planted on the floor and he was sort of bent over me, one hand gripping my hip as the other palmed my breast. I wanted him to just rip all my clothing off and fuck me hard right here in his hallway while his father talked to mine on the phone. Jacob was panting, his breath tickling my skin, when he pulled away just slightly. He was telling me how much he'd missed me. I just let his words bounce off of me. I didn't want to hear him; I just wanted to feel him. I reached out for his dick, sneaking my hand down the front of his jeans to really grab him. "Shit," he must have said, but to my ears, it was 'shhhh.' My breath caught and I felt sick. Quiet, Bella. Fuck. His hands kept moving even as I froze. One hand was up my shirt, the other down my pants. My eyes were shut, and if I could've opened them, I would have searched the corners for spiders because I knew it wouldn't be fair to him if I stopped. But I felt like throwing up. "Jesus, Bella." His teeth scraped at my neck. "You're so fucking beautiful." So beautiful. I pulled my hand back from him and pushed at his chest. He didn't stop, so I pushed him harder, my hands higher, fingernails scratching his neck. "Fuck! What the hell's fucking wrong with you?" I slipped away from him and stepped down the hall. "I have to go." "Fuck!" He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Is it your goddamn life's mission to fuck

with me?" "I'm sorry," I whispered. Hot tears leaked from me and I couldn't stop them. "Fuck," he said again, his voice much softer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" I shook my head, looking down at my feet. This shit was so fucked up. "I don't know." But that was a lie. I did know what was wrong with me. It was what had always been wrong with me. Jake reached out as if he was planning on cupping my face in his big hand, but I jerked my head away. "Bella," he said, his face portraying his hurt. "I'm never going to like you the way you like me, Jacob." I shook my head and moved away. "I'll never be your girlfriend." "But you're Cullen's?" I didn't know if I was anymore, but I wanted to be. "Shit's just different with Edward." We were silent for a long while, just standing there in the hallway. Finally, he stood up straight and sighed. "Do you need a ride home?" I shrugged. "The bus'll be by soon." I cried all the way home. While there were only a few people on the bus, they all eyed me cautiously. Jacob was the furthest thing from my mind now. I cried all night, except when I shouted at Charlie. He wouldn't stop asking me what was wrong, as if I fucking knew what the fuck was wrong with me. I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion around five on Sunday morning. I woke five hours later. Charlie made me eat sausage and eggs. It took everything I had not to puke it all back up. His eggs were runny and the sausage oily. I sat staring at my stupid computer for several hours before allowing myself to turn it on. The emptiness pooled and welled inside of me. I could no longer feel anything but the void and as he spoke to me again, telling me that he wouldn't tell my mother if I showed him how dirty I could be, I could do nothing but listen. As I opened my e-mail, I realized that even though I was mad at Edward, I needed him. I missed him, yes, but I was going insane without talking to him, without looking at him, without fucking touching him. There were two e-mails from Edward. Even though I was still angry, I had to read them. The first one was simple. I'm sorry, Bella. I didn't mean to tell Esme something private like that, but they needed to understand why I did what I did to Newton. They needed to know that he deserved it and that it was a worthy cause for violence. Bella, I'm so sorry.

Please don't be mad. At least don't be mad for long. I need you. Edward So I had to fight through my anger. I had to go see him. I needed to be near him because his presence made me feel better and he needed me too. His second e-mail was shorter. Bella, Please don't be mad. Don't leave. Your silence hurts. Edward I felt like complete shit, because honestly, I could understand why he told Dr. Hale and Dr. Cullen. It wasn't like he had a choice or could lie about it all. He was a horrible liar and he'd probably gotten picked on by Newton for years and never stood up for himself. It would make sense that they needed some kind of explanation for what happened. I was a fucking ass. I'd yelled and called him a hypocrite. I was mean to him. I was mean to the nicest person I knew, all because I didn't like what he'd done. Yes, he could have told me he'd said something to them. Yes, it wasn't his information to tell, but it was horrible of me to beat him up over it. I fucking hated being without him. It fucking hurt and I didn't like it. Being with Edward was like being warm. It was calm and peaceful. It was like it was natural. It was late afternoon when Alice let me into her house. We were at the foot of the stairs and I was about to go up to Edward's bedroom, but she stopped me. "Did you and Edward fight?" Alice's eyes were locked with mine. She wanted me to answer, but I stayed silent. "Bella," she tried, her voice soft, "he typically gets weird during the holidays, but it's not even Thanksgiving yet." "What do you mean, 'he gets weird'?" Alice shook her head and shrugged. "He just gets weird." I sighed, realizing that she probably wouldn't tell me Edward's business even if she knew. "Can I see him now?" "Um," she said nervously as she glanced up the stairwell, "he'sI mean right now is probably not the best time, Bella." "Why?" Her head cocked to the side and again, her eyes traveled up the stairs. "He was really upset and

wouldn't talk to anyone and you have to understand that with Edward there's a point where nothing will work and those panic attacks" She said it all in a rush , her words blending together until I had to hold out a hand for her to stop. "Can you slow down just a tad, you make my brain hurt. He's upset and what about panic attacks?" Alice's whole body sighed and she bit her lower lip. "Carlisle sedated him." It felt like my whole self, body, mind, and soul deflated. "What?" "There's just not a lot of choice when he's like that. It'sit's scary because he can't breathe and his body's all" Alice looked down. "It's just scary, Bella, and I don't know if it's a g ood time for you to see him." "Well, I need to see him." "Bella, I" "Look, thanks for telling me that he's sedated or whatever, but I'm going to go see him because I'm not mad at him anymore and I need to talk to him." I took two steps up and then looked back at Alice. She looked resigned that I was going up to Edward's room, so I continued on my path. When I got to his door, I momentarily wanted to be very high, but I remembered quickly that he didn't like me getting high and it wouldn't help the situation. Instead, I took a deep breath, knocked softly, and waited. I'd never seen him sedated before. Hell, I'd never even known he needed sedation. The door slowly opened. He stood there in front of me, wearing only loose black pajama bottoms, his brow creased on his otherwise blank face. I'd never seen him like this. He was only partially dressed and even in the low light, I could see how well-defined his upper body truly was. He was wiry, yet muscular. "Hi," I greeted softly. What else could I say? Edward didn't say anything, so I fidgeted. I realized that I had fucked up. I had fucked up big and I was nervous. Maybe he wouldn't forgive me. I'd said mean things to him; unforgivable things considering I said them to Edward. His body blocked my entrance and I supposed that I shouldn't have assumed that he'd let me in. But I had to try. I couldn't resolve anything with him by standing out in the hallway while Alice blatantly listened at the foot of the stairs, and I was sure Carlisle and Esme probably listened in from another room. "Can I come in?" Again, he was silent. His only reaction was a minute deepening of his furrowed brow. Shit. "I'm sorry, Edward. You know I didn't mean what I said." Fuck, I sounded just like every other asshole in the world. I didn't deserve to be in his space, but still, I tried. "Please?" Edward's face never changed its expression. He just backed away from the door, swallowed hard, and let me in. I closed the door behind me and watched as his eyes moved to the door knob. I turned the lock and saw him relax just a little. He turned and moved toward the bed. That was when I saw his back for the first time. I couldn't help but gasp, my breath catching in my throat dramatically. Before I realized it, I was

reaching out in front of me, my fingers just grazing his skin. Edward stiffened as he felt the brush of my fingertips over the raised flesh, but kept moving toward the bed. His back was a sea of scars, raised bits of skin in winding patterns and familiar shapes. My eyes had yet to find a patch of skin that hadn't been marred. The darkness of his room did nothing to hide the obvious mutilation of his body. The glaring reality hit me like a swift kick to the gut. Someone had done that to Edward. And suddenly the shy, awkward kid with a speech impediment who'd knocked into me on my first day of school was now much less of an enigma. Without a word spoken, I knew instantly who Edward was in a way that no other student at school would ever know. I wanted to cry. I couldn't help but think, as I stood motionless watching him sit down against the headboard and pull his knees up to his chest, that Edward probably wouldn't have shown his back to just anyone. Alice said he was sedated and I could tell that he was, but there was no way, with or without drugs, that he would show me his scars unless he wanted to. Now really looking at his chest, the part that wasn't covered by his knees and arms, I saw that it too was scarred by healed wounds. "Jesus, Edward," I let out before pressing my lips together. "Who did that to you?" I hadn't really expected him to answer, so I wasn't shocked when he didn't. Carefully, I sat down on the bed, facing him. He looked so incredibly sad and I felt so amazingly guilty. I had no right to be in his room, but I had to remind myself that he wouldn't have let me in if he didn't want me in here. I needed him, and he said he needed me, so here we were. "Edward," I said softly. His eyes were sunken, the purplish shadow underneath more pronounced than I'd ever seen. "I think I might've, um, overreacted. I'm sorry." My voice cracked as I fought against the tears that threatened to spill. I wondered if I would get a response. I was shocked when I heard his voice. "Bella." I whipped my head up to find him finally looking at me. He blinked and for a moment I recognized that he hadn't stumbled over my name. "Dddid you get hhhhhigh?" Involuntarily, I moved closer to him, doing something I normally would have never done with anyone. Anyone except for Edward, that is. I reached out my left hand, took his right hand and held it, my thumbs smoothing over his skin. Ordinarily, I hated this kind of contact, but in this moment, it felt right and good. "I'm sorry," I whispered. I didn't want to say 'yes,' and I figured that my apology was as good as an admission. Edward nodded, his fingers tightening just slightly around mine as he tilted his head to the side and laid it on his knees. Moving my free hand to his head, I threaded my fingers through his hair. I could

feel the shiver that ran through him. I didn't know how much time had passed before anything else was said, but when Edward spoke again, he confused me. "Mmmy dddd, ffffather" "What?" He wasn't stuttering so much as drawing out the words, and while I understood what he'd said, I had no idea why he said it. "Mmmy bbbaaaack." Now I could really tell that he was sedated. The way he spoke was completely different. But I pushed those thoughts away and concentrated on what it was that Edward was telling me. But it wasn't until he lifted his head and ran a finger over a small raised line on his collar bone that I realized he was answering my question from earlier. "Your dad did that to you?" Why had I not felt that raised flesh before? I loved his collarbone. His nose wrinkled as his eyes closed. I could barely see the nod he gave me. "Why?" It was a stupid question. I knew as well as anyone that there was no rhyme or reason as to why someone would do something like that to someone else. "Ffffffrom p-paaaain cccccomes p-pppur-purity, Belllllllla," he whispered after lying his head back down on his knees. His words shocked me. "What?" Edward sighed and I hated it. "Mmmy ddd, fffffather sssssssaid I w-wwwasn't clean enough. Mmmmy soul w-w-was t-t-t" His words died and were replaced by something that sounded like a rumble. It took everything I had not to get as loud as I had in the car when he'd told me about his mother. He hadn't liked that reaction and I didn't want to do anything else to set him off. I'd already done enough. "So he hit you?" I looked at the scars I could see, the ones on his shoulders that curled up from his back. 'Hit' wasn't the appropriate word. "Whipped you?" I didn't know how, but I managed to make my voice calm. "P-paaaain is c-cleansing." I looked at his hands and saw fresh bite marks. They were reddened and swollen. His shoulders rose as he shrugged. I hoped that his father's bullshit didn't make sense to him. I hoped he knew that his father was fucked up. "Ev-every night d-d-during mmmy pr-praaayers." His stuttering had started back up. "Every night what, Edward?" He lifted his head and my hand fell away from his hair. "I-I c-couldn't t-talk r-riiiight. I mem-mem-memorized every p-praaayer and vvvvverse he told m-me to. B-b-but the Devil m-made m-me the way I was," he finished in a hurry. It was the most fucked up thing I'd heard in my life. Even when Renee was going on and on in one state of paranoia or another, her insanity made more sense to me than a father beating his son in the name

of someone's idea of god. "Edward," I whispered, "what do you mean? What way?" His eyes locked with mine. He looked as if what he said next should have been abundantly clear. "W-w-w-wicked." His eyes were dead. "He wwwwwould p-p-p-p" The repetition continued until he stopped and took a deep breath, "put a b-broom d-down and I w-w-would kn-kneel on it t-to s-say m-my prayers. It w-would be hours and I w-would cccccry. I c-couldn't go m-more thaaaan a f-few wwwwwords wwwwithout st-st-stuttering and I w-would have to st-start over." I wanted to hug him. I wanted to hold him more than I had ever wanted anything in my life. I inched closer, my hand still linked with his. "Damn, Edward." "B-but he said that the p-pain w-w-would w-w-w-wash away the sssssin, j-just l-like J-Jesus on the cross." A tear slipped from my eye and I watched with blurry vision as he shook his head. "D-don't b-be mmmad, B-Bella." I answered him with a shake of my head. How could I have been mad at him? I knew that I wasn't the only one in the world to experience pain at the hand of someone I should have been able to trust, but hearing a first-hand account from Edward was nearly too much to bear. "No," I whispered to him, "I'm not mad at you." Moving closer still, I was able to put my hand on his knee. His eyes were locked with mine. They made me want to break down. I had never meant to have this kind of relationship with Edward. I had never wanted to know his secrets. I never wanted to care like this about anyone in Forks. But here I was, neck-deep in the shit with him. There was no way I could deny how connected I was to Edward. There was no lying about my feelings now. I couldn't help but think of the contrasts between Edward's childhood and mine. Edward's father was methodical, whereas Renee was passionate. I didn't know which was worse: a father who you knew would beat you at regular intervals or a mother who could snap at random. There was probably no better or worse, only different. "Edward?" I kept saying his name. I didn't know if I did it to comfort him or myself at that point. He moved slowly, sliding down the bed until he was lying, facing away from me. I took this as the sign to leave. He was finished talking. He'd already revealed a lot to me. More than he'd probably told anyone else. I let my hand rest on his bicep, my eyes carefully taking inventory of the scars on his back. I could tell his father had whipped him with a belt. The square indentation with a small, thin line in the middle could have only been a belt buckle. It must have hurt. Some of the other scars, the winding ones, could have been made by any number of things. A wire hanger, an electrical cord, a wooden rod, a thin tree branch, a rope. I couldn't help but sigh. This sucked. I felt incredibly helpless "I'm sorry," I whispered to him.

He didn't respond, not that I expected him to, so I let out a deep breath. "I'm sorry." My voice was louder than before. He needed to know that I was genuine and not just saying the same bullshit as everyone else. I moved to get off the bed. I had to accept that I had damaged him and my relationship with him. Before I could stand up completely, I felt Edward's fingers wrap around my wrist. I hated being grabbed like that, but I fought with my instincts, remembering that it was Edward. Edward was safe. Turning, I found him twisted around, his green eyes fixed on me. "C-c-can you st-stay?" I was confused. He wanted me to stay, even after I had yelled and was mean to him. "Yeah," I answered in a soft breath. He tugged me gently before letting go and lying back down. My lips pressed together as I crawled into his bed. I hoped that this was what he wanted. I wasn't sure if I could or should be this close to him, or if I should go sit on his couch. But he had pulled me to him, so I lied down behind him. After a while, his breathing evened out. I wasn't sure if he was sleeping or not. I let my fingers trace over his scars again before draping my arm over his side and hugging myself closer to him. It felt unnatural to hug someone like this. I had to fight against my instinct to either break the contact altogether or intensify it into something sexual. Neither would have been appropriate. But for whatever reason, Edward needed this type of contact. He needed some kind of connection that was safe. I didn't want to think about everything he hadn't told me. At this point I didn't want to know all of the things that made him into who he was. So I closed my eyes and focused my thoughts on my silent apology. I knew when I heard his whispered breath of a voice that the words he said were not his own. "And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." I had no idea how to respond to that. What the hell was I supposed to say to that? It was a programmed response that had been embedded into his mind. I didn't understand it; the words or his reason for saying them. "I mmmmissed you, B-Bella." ...

Chapter 44: In Bloom Bella "You okay?" I looked up at Charlie as I closed the door behind me. I didn't have the energy to talk back to him.

"Yeah, why?" He shook his head, his lower lip jutting out just slightly, his eyes watching my feet as I kicked off my shoes. "You looked upset this morning and now" "I'm fine, Charlie," I said with a sigh. "Have you eaten?" I glanced at the clock and shook my head. Charlie's concern for my eating habits was wearing thin. Renee probably would have been happy if I'd died from unmanaged diabetes. "Well, I know it's not fancy or nothing, but I've got some spaghetti cooking." I gave him a small smile. "Great." I moved to the kitchen, knowing that if Charlie was watching a game, the noodles were probably nearly overcooked already. I went about finishing dinner, thinking about how my relationship with Edward had changed irrevocably over the past few weeks. He was so much morereal to me now. I understood him. Not completely, but better. And I couldn't ever go back to seeing him as just another fucked kid from school. I knew that I really hadn't thought of him that way for quite awhile, but now I felt connected to him. I had never felt like this. I had never wanted another person in my life before. Everyone had just served a purpose. Even people who were "friends" weren't really a part of my life. They were just periphery people. But Edward was something else entirely. He was becoming, or in truth had already become, someone I actively wanted to see every day. I wanted to spend time with him. I almost needed to look into his green eyes and contemplate what was going on behind them. It was that want and that need that made me truly feel fucked up. I didn't understand it. I'd gotten so involved in cooking, that I hadn't noticed small tears had seeped from my eyes. Charlie stood at the entrance of the kitchen, watching me. I jumped when he spoke. "What's wrong, Bella?" My hands shook as I buttered the toast for garlic bread. "Nothing." "You don't have to keep everything to yourself. I know I haven't been there for you in the past, but I can help now." My first instinct was to tell him to fuck off and that I didn't need him. I don't know why I didn't do just that, but instead just blurted out the truth. "Edward's dad whipped him when he couldn't talk right." Charlie sighed and my fingers tightened around the butter knife. "I'm sorry, Bella." His apology made no sense to me. Why should he be sorry? He hadn't whipped him. My eyes closed for a moment and I took a deep breath. These tears were stupid and I needed them to stop. I fucking hated crying and it seemed it was the only thing I could do lately. If I were high, I would've been fine.

I picked up the saucepan to pour it over the pasta and out of my periphery, I saw Charlie move toward me. He wasn't threatening. His hands were at his sides and he was moving slowly, but my mind and body froze. As much as I tried to fight the reaction, my hand released the pan and it clanged to the floor loudly. Charlie stopped. "Bella" I looked from him down to my feet. They were covered in tomato sauce and it was just too much. My fucking jeans were ruined. The hot sauce burned through my socks. It covered the floor around me and up the oven and two of the bottom cupboards. I would have to clean it up and remake dinner. "Fuck!" I ran my hands through my hair before squatting down to pick up the pot. I didn't reach for the handle, but tried to pick it up from the lip. It was still hot and I dropped it again. I was pissed. I took that fucking pot by the fucking handle and swung out with it, feeling relieved as it smacked against the cabinet. I wanted something to break, so I did it several more times until my energy had fled. I was left feeling stupid, covered in red sauce while Charlie just watched. "I'm sorry, Bells." I glanced at Charlie and I hated what I saw. He was just standing there, looking completely bewildered and like he had done something wrong. The sadness on his face would have been hard to miss. I didn't know why he was apologizing, but I hated it. The tears continued to pour from me and I felt fucking helpless again. Dinner was fucking ruined and there was so much to clean up and I really just wanted to be high or sleeping. "Shit," I whispered. "I'll clean it up. Don't worry about it." My body tensed as Charlie moved again even though he moved away, grabbing the towel that hung near the refrigerator. I forced myself to do something other than weep. I stood up straight up and stepped away from the mess. "I fucked up dinner." I moved as far away from him as I could get, but realized too late that I'd backed myself into a corner and if I had to get out of the room, it would be much more difficult now. "It's okay. It's just pasta." I felt so fucking tired as I watched him clean up the mess I'd made. "I'm tired, Charlie." He looked up, his hands pausing for a moment. "I know you are, Bella." ECullen123: Bella?

I was surprised that he was even up. From the looks of things earlier, Dr. Cullen had pumped him full of sedatives. I hadn't left until he was sleeping and was sure he'd be out for a while. Imabell: Are you okay? ECullen123: I'm okay. I'm sorry. Imabell: For what? ECullen123: Everything. I'm just making a mess of everything. Imabell: If you were here, you'd hear my sigh. You don't make messes, I do. ECullen123: Are you mad at me? Imabell: No. ECullen123: You were mad though. I wondered if he was still sedated or if some of that had worn off. If I had to guess, I'd say that he was still at the very least sluggish. I knew that Edward had more to say, or type, rather, than what he'd written. Imabell: I told you that I overreacted. I'm sorry. ECullen123: I'm sorry I told them. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I just wanted to be done with it. He'd told them, I'd gotten mad, I got over it and now couldn't it just be over? Imabell: I know you are. It's okay. ECullen123: I had to tell them, Bella. Imabell: I know, Edward. Are you going to school tomorrow? ECullen123: No. Imabell: Can I come over again? ECullen123: It's Carlisle's day off. He'll be upset if you skip school to hang out here. Imabell: What about after school? Can I come over then? ECullen123: Yes. I can't pick you up though. Imabell: It's okay. I'll take the bus. ECullen123: You could ride with Emmett and Alice. Imabell: I'll catch the bus. ...

I had gone to school as planned but I could only tolerate sitting through two periods. I snuck out the back and through the edge of the woods and walked down to the public bus stop on the other side. A half-hour later I was knocking on Edward's front door. It took a while but the door finally swung open. Dr. Cullen was clutching a cup of coffee, dressed in flannel pajama bottoms and a black v-neck t-shirt. He definitely knew how to take care of a human body because his was fucking beautiful. I bet Dr. Hale had fun banging the shit out of him. "Shouldn't you be in school, Bella?" "Yes. I'm skipping. Now that we've established that I'm a rule-breaker, can I come in?" Dr. Cullen processed for a moment, blinking twice before looking behind me and then shivering from the wind. Yeah, it was fucking cold. He moved back and I slipped in beside him, careful not to brush him. He was totally sexy and fuckable, but he was sort of Edward's dad or whatever. "He's in the kitchen." I wondered if he was drugged already. I walked quickly, shedding my coat and hat, and found him in the kitchen, staring at the coffee pot. He had on the same black pajama pants, but he now wore a white t-shirt. His feet were bare. He had nice toes. I watched him for just a bit, wondering what the hell was running through his mind as he looked at the appliance. I thought for sure he'd stop staring at the stupid thing and notice I was there, but he didn't. I had to decide if I wanted to disturb him or not. I had to decide how I would go about it. I could just say his name or I could go to him, throwing myself into his arms. My feet moved. It was only after I was standing next to him that his eyes left the coffee maker and found me. I resisted the insane urge to throw myself at him because his face was blank for just that brief moment before his brain caught on to the fact that I was actually standing there. "Hi," I said quietly as I rose up on my toes and opened the cabinet beside his head. I pulled out a large coffee mug and poured my coffee. It was hard to focus when I felt the very tip of his finger running down my arm. "B-Bella." I gave him a smile, and then quickly checked his coffee mug. It was half-full, so I refilled it and held it out to him. Once he took his, I took mine in my right hand and laced the fingers of my left with his. I tugged gently and was happy when I felt him follow me. Leading him out of the kitchen, I kept my head down as we passed Dr. Cullen and made our way upstairs. I dropped his hand and let him open the door. He sat on his bed, scooting back carefully so as not to spill his coffee, and I followed him to the center. It was strange how my body just moved into his. It was odd how perfect I felt with him, as if my body was molded specifically to be held within his arms. "W-w-will you g-get in trouble ffffor c-c-c-coming to see me?" I doubted I would. "Maybe." He moved and so I moved, unwilling to lose the brilliant warmth of his body. We leaned back against the wall, both sipping our coffee, our bodies pressed together. My eyes found the foot of the bed and

scattered across it were books about religion and god. There were several copies of the Bible lying open. I had no clue what to do because I wanted to ask him about them so fucking bad, but I thought maybe it would be rude to push him like that when he was clearly having some kind of issue with that shit. My fingers tightened around my cup when I thought of that little-boy-Edward from the picture he'd shown me. I was simultaneously depressed and pissed-off that anyone would fucking whip him for not being able to control his stutter. After our coffee was gone and our cups were abandoned on his night stand, I started talking about whatever came to mind, just to fill the verbal void. It wasn't that I was uncomfortable with the silence, but I wanted to work up to a point where I could ask him what the fuck was up with the god books and the hand biting and the sedation. But my words were just misplaced ramblings that meant nothing and rang false and before I could stop myself, I asked, "Can you name all of the disciples?" His chest rose as he sucked in a deep breath, causing my body to move. I didn't look at him. I stayed still, even as his voice sounded next to my ear. "Judas, Simon, Thaddaeus, Thomas, James (son of Alphaeus), Bartholomew, Philip, John, James (son of Zebedee), Peter, Matthew, and Andrew." It was off-putting and weird that he didn't stutter, I wondered how many of those criss-cross marks on his back had led up to his ability to say all their names without stammering. I wanted to see his back again. It might have seemed like a sick fascination, but I needed to study it, to let my eyes see what it did not yesterday. There had been too much to take in. "D-d-do you w-w-want to hear the books of the B-B-Bible too?" Even though in a sick way, I did, I started to shake my head, but he was already speaking. "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy, Joshua, Judges, Ruth, I Samuel, II Samuel, I Kings, II Kings, I Chronicles, II Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, Job, Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, The Song of Solomon, Isaiah, Jeremiah, Lamentations, Ezekiel, Daniel, Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi." Jesus motherfucking Christ that was crazy. I opened my mouth to speak, didn't know what I would say and before I could think of anything, he continued. It took me by surprise because I had thought he was done. I wished he was done. There was nothing about this I liked. "Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, The Acts, Epistle to the Romans, I Corinthians, II Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians, I Thessalonians, II Thessalonians, I Timothy, II Timothy, Titus, Philemon, To the Hebrews, The Epistle of James, I Peter, II Peter, I John, II John, III John, Jude, Revelation." I didn't like him reciting that shit like he was a show pony. It wasn't right. "That's hhhhow they're lllllisted in the K-K-King JJJJames v-v-version. D-d-do you w-w-want to hhhhear the"

I shifted, twisting around until I was face-to-face with him. I was sitting on him now, but it was completely different than when I had done it before. I wasn't turned on in the slightest. My sole focus was him and I couldn't stop staring at his eyes. Today they were such a murky green, like seaweed waving around underneath the ocean. "You know that your father was fucked up, right? You know that he wasn't right. You're not wicked, Edward. You're the best person I know." Although he never moved his eyes from mine, there was a part of him that just went vacant. His mouth was slightly open, but it was his eyes that really just tripped me out. I didn't know if he was hearing me or even seeing me. I put my hands on either side of his head, my thumbs stroking the deep dark circles under his eyes. "You're not wicked." It seemed incredibly important for him to know this. Nothing was right with the universe if someone like Edward actually thought he was wicked. His dad was fucked up. His dad was more fucked up than Renee, because at least she didn't use an invisible all-mighty god to justify the fucked up shit she did. I couldn't even imagine what that level of fear did to a person. Thinking that the master of the motherfucking universe, or whatever, hated you for no discernable reason? That was just fucked beyond the telling. Just when I wished he would speak, he did, but then I wanted him to stop. What he said was nothing more than programmed bullshit. "Blessings are upon the head of the just: but violence coverth the mouth of the wicked." I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up because that shit wasn't helping anything, but I stopped myself from being harsh. "What does that even mean, Edward?" He didn't respond. "You're not wicked, pain isn't cleansing, and pain doesn't bring purity, it just brings more pain." His eyes dropped to his hands in his lap. I took them carefully into my own. They looked raw and painful and I wished that he would stop hurting them. "Suffering produces endurance," he whispered, "and endurance produces character, and character produces hope." That bullshit must have come from the bible because Edward didn't stutter or draw out one fucking word. "No, it doesn't," I argued. "Suffering produces pain and endurance just makes you fucking tired." "I'm ssssorry, B-Bella." I hated that he could say fucked up shit from the bible without stuttering, but my name was something he could only stumble over. "D-don't be mmmmad." "Stop it. I'm not fucking mad, Edward." I stroked under his eyes again and his lids fluttered closed. "I

worry about you though." "I'm o-okay, B-Bella." He was most definitely not fucking okay. I'd never witnessed something as fucked up as some kind of automatic biblical response to shit. "Have you read the whole Bible?" I asked before I could really think about the consequences. I felt compelled to know more. With his eyes still closed, he shook his head. "Have you read any of the Bible?" He nodded. "Have you read most of it?" To this he sighed and opened his eyes. "Mmmmost of it." "Do you want to, like, um, talk about that shit or something?" I didn't fucking know what would be better. I didn't honestly know if I wanted to know. It would be another complication in what was already a complicated relationship. But I wanted to be that girl for him. I wanted to be the girl who could help him the way he helped me. If I tried really hard, I could save him for once. But I didn't know how. I didn't want to ignore it, but I didn't want to push either. Very slowly, he shook his head, looking up at me sheepishly. I smiled at him, hoping to show him that I was okay. It would be just like him to worry about how I was feeling while he was dealing with seriously heavy shit. I sighed and leaned into him, pressing my head into his shoulder as I hugged him. My hands moved from the side of his face to his hair. He had such nice hair. It was silky but thick and it felt wonderful as my fingers weaved through it. "I'm going to make you a fucking awesome lunch, Edward. What are you hungry for?" I asked against his neck. "I-I d-don't know." "You don't know?" I smiled and moved closer. "What's something you'd like to eat?" "I-I d-d-don't know." "Well, what tastes good to you, Edward?" I thought it was a fairly simple question and the fact that he couldn't tell me what he would like to eat was distressing. Edward shook his head and sighed. How the hell could he not know what tasted good to him? I thought about how he'd answered the favorite food question. It was Kate's Thai curry. I might have been able to replicate it, but I'd never made Thai food. Even if I knew what kind of Thai curry she used to make for him, I wouldn't be able to eat it with him. It would hurt my tongue.

I pulled back and moved my hands down to his. I felt like I was becoming obsessed with Edward telling me something he wanted to eat. I needed to know that he hadn't turned into some fucking robot who couldn't fucking think for himself because he'd fucking get whipped. Edward was a fucking thinker and I couldn't stand the thought of him shutting down like that. Especially because I had been mean to him. "Edward, what can I make for you?" I wondered if his silence was because he truly didn't know or if he was sedated. I couldn't tell, so I asked. "Did Dr. Cullen give you" "N-n-not t-today. I-I'm b-better today." "We can have breakfast for lunch. Do you like French toast?" When he nodded, I quickly tugged him up, desperate for a change of scenery. His room had suddenly gotten really intense. Well, it had always been intense, but now it held so many secrets about both of us that it was almost too much to be in there. My fork story was in there, our little dance was in there, telling him about Mike Newton was in there. I had no clue as to how many times I had fucking mounted him in that room. Now he had shown me his fucking scars and didn't stutter when quoting the bible in there. The scars on his back were fucking harsh and hurt me to look at, but I found the internal ones, that automatic bullshit response without stuttering, that programmed shit, harder for me to handle. His eyes were fucking vacant, like Edward wasn't there anymore. After I had the first few pieces of bread on the griddle, I pulled him to me. He had just been standing there, his eyes fixed on the sizzling butter. I touched his hands carefully before running my fingers up his arms to his face, angling it down to force him to look at me. He hadn't shaved again. "You need to stop hurting your hands, Edward. I needed your help with breakfast but you can barely hold a spoon with those hands." His lips were pushed out just a little. A wrinkle played at his brow but his eyes were still murky. "I want you to play the violin for me and you can't do it with hands like these. Please? Please, don't hurt your hands anymore." He moved closer, his hands sliding around my lower back. Edward rested his cheek on the top of my head. I couldn't pinpoint when exactly things had changed to where this kind of contact was something I could handle, but I knew that it had. He felt good to me and I wanted him to feel good too. He liked soft things like hugs and fingers in his hair. I wanted to give him those things. For a moment, I let myself think about how hot Edward was going to be playing the violin. For whatever reason, the violin seemed like a more intimate instrument than even the piano or the guitar. Every time I'd seen people playing the violin, it was fairly passionate. But thinking about passionate Edward made for a passionate Bella, so I stopped thinking about it

because it wasn't the right time for that. He washurt. I turned in his hold and flipped the bread when I smelled the pieces getting close to burning. I let him hold me like that until I had to move. I collected plates and refilled coffee cups. They had no agave nectar, so I ate my French toast with just a little butter. It didn't matter what I ate, as long as Edward was eating something good. After lunch I waited in his room while he took a shower and changed. I just looked at the books on the bookshelf, not wanting to explore the religious shit on his bed. Once he was dressed and his wild hair was dry, we went out to the greenhouse and quietly looked at the plants. Although I pretended to look at the plants, I was really looking at Edward. I didn't give a shit about the Brussels sprouts. It wasn't until we were in the greenhouse that I couldn't squash down my sexual thoughts anymore. The intensity of Edward's room hadn't followed us out here and I couldn't keep my natural thoughts suppressed forever. I hadn't had sex in a really long time. I didn't include what happened with Newton. I didn't define that shit as sex because there was absolutely no gratification on my part. Edward was so fucking sexy. Everything about him was just sososhit, there were no words as to what he was. My overly-lusty thoughts came back, but I gave him his space and didn't go too near him while I was thinking about him and his sexy facial hair and wounded hands. I feared that if I were close enough to smell him, I wouldn't be able to control my nearly overwhelming desire to touch him. He was just so gorgeous. Even depressed and sullen, he was gorgeous. I could look at him all day. I knew that he knew I was staring at him because he was breathing a little quicker than normal. One of his hands kept curling and uncurling while the other was clenched tight and pressed against the side of his thigh. His lashes were so unbelievably long. I wanted to feel them brushing across my cheek, my neck, my stomach, my thighs. And those lips! It was almost a shame that he wasn't more experienced with girls. It seemed like a travesty that more females hadn't experienced the softness of them. Almost was the operative word though, because if he'd had any more experience with girls it would have driven me crazy. I wanted him. The fact that he was denying me, keeping me from what I wanted, made me want him that much more. I wanted to fuck him in the dirt. It would be insanely hot. The greenhouse would keep our naked bodies warm as the day grew cooler outside. I could just picture his perfectly pale skin splattered with dirt and mud while I rode him in the middle of the flower bed at his feet. His insanely beautiful collar bones would stand out and little puddles of mud would pool in them and he'd be sexy as fuck with his dirty hands gripping my hips. They would leave marks on me as he pulled and pushed me, helping my body move just right on top of his. I wouldn't just ride him. I would rise up on my hands and knees and let him take me from behind, his dirty hands leaving prints all over my body. He could run them up over my back, leaving trails of sexy, slippery mud, and then slide them around to cup my breasts that would be aching for his touch.

Or maybe we wouldn't do it in the greenhouse. Maybe we'd be in that little meadow. He could be gentle and sweet with me while I moved beneath him, letting him take whatever control he needed. We would be surrounded by purple and white wildflowers. I would let him be sweet. I would let him love my body with his. I would let his mouth kiss mine tenderly, not hard, while his hands caressed, not grabbed. Edward moved, turning away from me and sitting down on a bucket. My fantasy of our naked bodies together stopped and I watched him pull a stray piece of greenery away from the base of a stalk. At some point I had just accepted that I could no longer stay away from him. Physically, his body seemed to pull mine closer. Mentally and emotionally, I felt driven to give him what he needed. I thought about yesterday, about getting high, about Jacob's mouth on mine. Now that Edward and I had stepped over the invisible line, it wouldn't be right for me to keep things like that from him. I was in no way wanting to disclose to him the shit I'd done, but I couldn't see how some of that could be avoided. Especially since I'd allowed Jacob to kiss me even after I considered myself Edward's girlfriend or whatever. But who the fuck knew if I was supposed to come clean with that shit now? He was sodown already. I couldn't just put it off though, or else I'd never tell him. He needed to have the information because it was vital to our whole relationship. Honesty was the one thing we always had. Slowly, my body moved closer to his and I sat down on the bucket next to him. I took one of his hands into both of mine, my fingers avoiding the open wounds his teeth had created, and focused on the little patches of skin that were still smooth and unmarred. "I'm sorry that I was mean to you on Friday." Edward looked at me, but didn't say anything for a while. When he did, his voice was soft. "I t-told your ssssecret." "I still shouldn't have been so mean." I looked away, focusing my eyes on the small little Brussels sprout buds in front of me. "I got high." Edward sighed, his shoulders slumping. "You t-told me. Esme ssssays that r-relapse is a p-part of r-r-recovery." "Jacob kissed me," I said quickly. "Nothing happened, though." I looked at him and waited. He had no reaction. "I kissed Jacob back." Still nothing. "Edward," I said with a sigh, "I'm sorry." Again he had no discernable reaction. I nudged his leg with my knee. "Be mad at me, Edward." "R-r-relapse is a p-p-part of r-r-recovery." "Stop." I didn't like the words he used because I wasn't an addict of anything. He needed to get upset

with me. I'd broken his trust, but he wouldn't show me that it hurt. "Don't be all forgiving and shit. Be mad at me!" "For if you forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you don't forgive men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." "Stop it." "And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving each other, just as God also in Christ forgave you." "I want you to be mad," I said, squeezing his hands carefully, but firmly. "Don't give me that Bible bullshit, Edward. Be mad at me." When he didn't respond, my hands tightened and the crease on his brow deepened. "It's okay to be mad. What I did was wrong. I hurt you. Be mad at me." "I don't w-w-want to be mmmmad, B-B-B-B," he said, giving up and finishing my name with a sigh. "But I" It seemed that I was desperate for him to have some kind of appropriate reaction to his girlfriend kissing someone else. It wasn't right. I wasn't proud of it and if I could take it back, I would. But since I couldn't, I needed him to be upset with me. I needed him to make it difficult for me to get back in his good graces. I needed him to release some kind of emotion about it. "You n-n-need af-fff-affection that I c-c-can't give you." That was not what I wanted to hear from him. It wasn't true. That was bullshit. That was his need to make my fuck-ups his failures. I shook my head now, willing him to look at me. I wanted his eyes to meet mine, his soul to connect with mine. "I need the affection you can give me, Edward. I'm sorry about Jacob. It won't happen again. With Jacob, it's only ever beenphysical." His eyes flashed up and locked with mine, but only for a moment. When he lowered them again, he said, "I kn-know." "Be mad at me." "N-no." His stubbornness on this issue was pissing me off. I wanted him angry with me. I deserved his anger but he wouldn't give it to me. It made no sense that he wouldn't be visibly upset. All he was doing was being quiet and subdued as if he was sedated and I didn't want that. I wanted him to be fiery. I wanted to see the guy who nearly popped that freshman's head off of his neck for touching me. I wanted to see the guy who'd been so pissed at Newton that he sent him to the hospital. I wanted the guy who had pulled me away from Riley and pressed me against the glass. I didn't want controlled Edward. I let his hands go and sat up straight. "Maybe I lied. Maybe it'll happen again. Maybe I didn't just kiss him, Edward. Maybe I fucked him." He still wouldn't look at me and I felt that it was vital he have some kind of reaction. I would have been livid if he'd told me that he and Jessica shoved their tongues in each other's mouths while he was

my boyfriend. I understood his depression, but he was always like this, just not as extreme. I stood up. Edward kept his neck bowed. Stepping away from the buckets, I turned to look at something else. Anything else. "Yeah, come to think of it, you're totally right. I do need 'affection,'" I said, adding the air quotes with my fingers, even though he wasn't looking. "At least Jacob had the courtesy to get pissed that I fucked Tyler." I glanced back at Edward and saw that his jaw was tight and the hands that I had just released were clenched together. "I'm going now. I didn't realize that I was wasting my time with a fucking robot that would just let his girlfriend go out and" My words hadn't been planned, but even if they had been, I wouldn't have been able to get them out. I hadn't heard him get up off his bucket and I certainly hadn't heard him get so close to me. His arms were around me, spinning me to face him. Although I felt perfectly safe within them, the possessive way he held me was unlike anything I had experienced with him before. Even that day at work, the way he had demanded my attention hadn't been this forceful. Quickly, he moved us back until we hit a large wooden work table. He pressed me back into it and my hands moved behind me to grip at the lip of it. I looked up at him. His eyes were burning into me, his jaw still tight. His hands were almost painfully gripping my hips. It wasn't the reaction I had anticipated, but I happily accepted his hands on me. I felt like I couldn't breathe and as his neck bent and his mouth moved closer to me, I would have gladly given up oxygen for him. He was the only thing I needed. "Don't go, B-Bella." His lips pressed against the hollow beneath my ear. I rose up on my tip toes and to my surprise, he lifted me up until I was sitting on the table top. He stood between my legs. Edward's lips moved along the line of my jaw and his hands tightened. I threw my head back. I fucking loved his mouth on my neck. My breath caught as his teeth scraped against the tight band in my neck. Fuck me, I had no idea pushing him like that would have caused this level of sexual energy between us. I wasn't stupid and I knew it wasn't going to go much farther than this, but I was going to enjoy it while it lasted. His hands moved up from my hips to my waist and he pulled me forward, pressing me closer to him. Edward's mouth was on mine now and I let my hands tangle in his hair. I sort of humped his torso, my legs tightening around his back, practically merging our bodies together. We kissed like that for what seemed like a long time but in reality, it might have only been a minute or two. When he pulled back, like I knew he would, I said, "I'm sorry, Edward." His head was pressed against my shoulder when he nodded. "I didn't mean anything I just said." He nodded again.

"Can I still be your girlfriend?" For a third time, Edward nodded, but this time used his voice as well. "Yes." Edward was hard for a while, but I knew he wouldn't want me to do anything about it, so I pretended that I hadn't noticed his erection. He stood there in between my legs, resting his head against my shoulder as I let my fingers slide and thread casually through his hair. After nearly an hour, we went back to the house and lay together in his bed until I decided to start making dinner for him, and by default, his family. It was nearly six-thirty when Dr. Hale came in. She openly kissed Dr. Cullen, who had been sitting at the kitchen island, pretending to be reading some large book but was really watching me cook. Subtly, I watched the affection that passed between them. Her fingers tickled the short hairs at the base of his head. He smiled at her and closed his eyes for a moment, before reaching up and taking her hand in his. He kissed her palm and I had to look away. I looked at Edward and saw that he was looking at them too. His wounded hand clutched at the measuring cup much too tightly, so I distracted him by asking him to pour a cup of milk into the sauce pan. "Carlisle said you were here." I turned to face Dr. Hale again and she gave me a smile. "It's good to see you, Bella." I couldn't find anything to say back to her. "I invited your father for dinner. I hope you don't mind, but I didn't think it was right for him to eat alone." I shrugged, but wondered if that meant we were supposed to have another therapy session tonight. I didn't want one. I just wanted to cook dinner and eat it on the floor in Edward's room. "Okay," I replied and then busied myself with the vegetables and chicken that needed sauting. As much as I wanted to be alone with Edward, it was clear that I would have to wait. Charlie arrived and then everyone gathered around the table for the crappy meal I'd created. They all thanked me for making it for them. I held my tongue and didn't say that I had really made it for Edward and they were only getting food because they were attached to him. About fifteen minutes into the meal, I bit into a hot piece of chicken and cringed as my tooth throbbed and shot stabbing pain through my head. I covered my cheek with my hand as if that was going to solve the problem. "What's wrong, Bells?" I looked up to find that everyone was looking at me. I wanted to throw my fork at Charlie for drawing everyone's attention to me, but forks were dangerous. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"Do you have a tooth that's bothering you?" I glanced at Dr. Cullen and then quickly looked away. "No. My teeth are fine." "You should let Carlisle look at it," Dr. Hale suggested. My teeth ground together and I tried to disguise the wince of pain that shot through me. Everyone was looking at me. Everyone but Edward. His neck was bent and he was starting at his plate. I slid my hand over my thigh and felt the small hard bump inside my pocket. That green rock was a comfort though I had no real idea why. "It's fine," I responded calmly. I tried to continue eating and after a brief pause, everyone else did the same. It wasn't until after dinner, when Jasper, Rosalie, Emmett, and Alice all left that Dr. Cullen asked if he could look into my mouth. I was absolutely horrified. "What the fuck do you mean, 'can I see inside your mouth'?" "Bella, watch your language," Charlie scolded. I was out of my seat quickly. "No. He's not fucking looking at my fucking mouth and I'll say fuck as many fucking times as I fucking want." "He won't hurt you, Bella." I looked at Dr. Hale. She was standing now too. "Pain means something's wrong." I fucking knew that, but Dr. Cullen would have to touch my face and he would be close to me and as much as his body was extra-fine and sexy, I just wasn't into that right now. Not to mention that they'd all see my stupid fucking burnt tongue. I looked at Edward. He was looking back at me now, his fists curled on top of his thighs. His jaw was tight. He was anxious for me. I trained my eyes on Dr. Hale. She would be there and even if I didn't trust her with every one of my hidden secrets, I knew she wouldn't let someone hurt me. In the end, I realized that just like with everything else, the adults would get their way, whether I wanted my tooth looked at or not. "Fine," I conceded, my voice just barely there. "But you can'tyou can't You can just look at it. Nothing else." We moved from the dining room to the bright lights of the kitchen. Edward and Charlie weren't in the room, although Charlie leaned against the archway in between the two rooms. I clutched the green rock in my hand. I was glad that Edward wasn't there. I felt like a fucking baby, but I couldn't help it. Tears welled in my eyes and I wanted so desperately to just have a little buzz going. If I was just a little high, I could have gotten through this bullshit without the tears.

Logically I knew that if my tooth hurt, something was wrong, but as Dr. Cullen's hand moved closer to my face, I flinched. "Bella," Dr. Hale's soft voice said quietly into my ear, "I won't let him hurt you. I'm right here." I closed my eyes, thinking that it might help, but as I felt warm hands on my cheek, angling my head upward, it most certainly did not help. Instinctively, my eyes popped open and my whole body jerked back, away from Dr. Cullen. "It's okay, Bella." Dr. Hale's voice was closer to me now as my eyes drifted down the walls to the floor. Over by the refrigerator there was a cobweb, but like the one in Lauren's bathroom, it was old. No spider lived there. Dusty blue fuzz hung on it. It needed to be cleaned away. "I think your tooth's abscessed," Dr. Cullen said, drawing my attention away from the fuzzy web. "What does that mean?" He stepped away and I wrapped my arms around myself, still holding that chunk of green earth within my hand. "You've got a pretty big cavity in one of your left molars. I think it's infected and the root is basically dying. Your right lymph node is swollen as well." He looked to Charlie. "Probably a root canal or extraction is necessary. She'll need to start antibiotics right now." "When's the last time you saw a dentist, Bella?" Dr. Hale asked. I shook my head, trying to indicate that I didn't know, but in truth, I did know. I had never been to a dentist. "I-i-it'll be o-okay, B-Bella." I shook my head at Edward's word, squeezing his hand tighter. "I don't want to go." "But you hhhhave to." "I don't want to." "B-B-Bella, the infffffection is already in your lllllll" Edward sighed. "It w -will mmake you sick." "I don't want to go," I whined again as I rested my head back on his shoulder. "I know, but you hhhhave to go." A couple of days later I found myself sitting in the squeaky dentist chair, my leg twitching nervously. I held Edward's green rock and tried not to freak out. There was a woman in the room but at some point, the dentist would come in. We'd done the x-rays and that was horrible enough. Why couldn't Edward have come with me? Why couldn't Dr. Hale be here? Why the hell hadn't I made a midnight run to Jake's for some weed last night? Bella.

I shut my eyes, which was never a good idea, but once they were closed, they wouldn't open back up. Beautiful Bella. I felt so sick and wished that they had given me at least something to calm my nerves. There was noise to my right and I heard a man's voice talking to the woman behind me. "Okay, so we're just going to do an initial exam. I understand you have a tooth that's causing you a good deal of pain?" I couldn't answer. My voice wouldn't work. My teeth clenched. I love your mouth, Bella. "While the film's developing, I'm just going to take a look, okay?" There was a pause and I felt a hand resting on my shoulder. "Open up." Open your mouth, dirty girl. My eyes opened as wide as they could and I flew out of the chair and out of the room. I moved as quickly as I could down the hallway and out into the waiting room. Charlie stood up when he saw me and I practically ran to him, shaking my head. "Bella?" I grabbed at his arm, trying to tug him out of this stupid little room. I wanted to be outside in the open air. I kept shaking my head and I wondered at the drops of moisture that went flying off of me. I was crying. "Don't make me do it, Charlie. I don't want to. Don't let them do it!" Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for sedation. Despite having just had a tooth removed, I was in no pain and my mind was deliciously blank. It had taken all day, but with the aid of a nice chemical flow, I let them take out my tooth. It was better than a root canal which would have taken much longer. Edward came over in the evening. Charlie ordered pizza. I didn't eat any. I heated up a can of soup, not because my mouth hurt but because I couldn't remember if I'd taken any insulin this morning and I was a little too sluggish to figure it all out. Either way, pizza would've messed with my blood sugar too much. I lay with Edward on my bed. I was thinking about how I wished I was a different person for him, for Charlie, for everyone I knew. "be better for you," I whispered. "W-what?" I liked how quiet my mind was right now. I liked how I could actually focus on one thought, one topic.

"I'll be better for you, I promise." "B-Bella, I lllllike you r-right now. You don't hhhhave to b-be b-b-b-" It wasn't that I was ignoring him, but he needed to know. "I can make you proud of me. I promise. I've figured something out, Edward." "W-w-what?" I reached over, found his arm and pulled it over me. "I want to be with you." He took in a deep breath and his arm seemed to hold me closer without even tightening. "I want to you be good to you, for you. I'm sorry if I'm not good at it." "B-B-Bella." I shifted, turning away from him and pillowing my head on my folded arm. "I'm really tired, Edward." "J-just wait, B-Bella," he said and then released a heavy breath. "It w-will get b-better." I didn't feel like talking, so I didn't. I went to school and outwardly functioned like a human being, but I had no words for the way I felt inside. Edward was absolutely perfect for me because if anyone in the world understood silence, it was Edward. I wanted to talk about his scars, but the words wouldn't come. I needed him to be here with me and not trapped inside his Bible-quoting head. I was so fucking tired all the time. I could have bought some coke from Tyler because that would have made me wake the fuck up and get me through my days, but I didn't. Edward liked me sober, so I had to try to stay that way for him. If I didn't, I would end up losing him. I didn't want to lose him. I wanted to be good to him. Thursday after school, I had a session with Hale before dinner. Alice decided that she was going to cook, with the help of both Emmett and Jasper. I wasn't looking forward to the meal because from what I saw before heading upstairs with Dr. Hale, the end results didn't look promising. I knew they were producing a meal because they felt like I cooked for them too much, but I didn't mind doing it. Everyone ate well when I cooked. The fact that they were taking the one thing I could do well away for one night sort of depressed me. "How are you today, Bella?" I shrugged. "How's the tooth?" "It's not in my mouth anymore, so I have no idea." Dr. Hale smiled. "But you feel better?" I shrugged again. "I feel sad today." Her eyebrow arched and she folded her hands together on her lap. "Why do you think that is?"

I didn't want to think about why I was sad because then it would be all about dentist-freak-outs, memories of burnt tongues and broken bones, whispered voices, and the feeling of hands where they should not have been. "I don't know." "Is there anything going on that you'd like to talk about?" I wanted to be angry that she was asking me anything. I wanted to spit hate at her, but I had no energy. "I don't know. I feel like crying." "It's okay to cry, Bella." I shrugged because I knew that it was okay, but there were no tears for me to release. "I would love to help you with your emotions, but I need to know more." "I know." Dr. Hale sighed, her eyes flitting over my face. "But you don't want to talk?" "No." Her face softened and a gentle smile appeared. "Okay. Do you want to go back down-stairs with everyone?" "Not really." "Do you want to see Edward?" I did want to see Edward but it would just put more pressure on me to be okay when I wasn't. He worried about me and I worried about him worrying about me. "Not right now." "Do you just want to sit here quietly?" I nodded and when I spoke my answer, it came out as a whisper. "Yes." We sat in silence for the better part of an hour. I felt weights pressing on me from all sides. "Sometimes I feel like I can't breathe and all I can do is feel pain." She was quick to respond. It was as if she'd been expecting my words. "Yes. You've lived a long time without feeling." Dr. Hale paused. "It'll get better, Bella." "That's what Edward says." Dr. Hale smiled widely now. "He's smart and he's a nurturer by nature. He's in pain when others are. Edward is very in-tune with both you and Alice." I didn't respond for a while and enjoyed the hum of silence in the room. "I don't really know who I am; who I'm supposed to be." Dr. Hale took a deep breath. "Life isn't about finding yourself, it's about creating yourself. You can be someone completely different today than who you were yesterday. So the question isn't who are you?

The question is who do you want to be?" I thought for a moment. "I want to be who Edward needs me to be. I want to be right for him." "It's great that you care for him like that, but what about you? Who do you want to be for yourself, Bella?" "I don't know." I shrugged with tears stinging my eyes. "Why don't I know that?" I stood next to his bookcase, hoping that one of the titles would spark something in me. I didn't care what it sparked, but I needed something. I was feeling nothing. Not the good kind of nothing where there was a hum of energy blocking everything from my mind. This nothing was like a void, an expanding nothingness that crept up from my toes and engulfed my very being. It was a worried nothingness and I felt as if there was nothing left inside of me to care about. The pain in my tooth was gone. My throat was no longer sore. I wasn't angry at Edward for telling my secret. I wasn't high. I wasn't just blank. I was nothing. Dinner was okay. Emmett and Jasper successfully navigated Alice around the sharp utensils. The dinner itself was some kind of casserole thing. It was poorly executed and lacked flavor, but they tried. Other than Charlie, they were the only people who had cooked for me in a long, long time. As grateful as I was intellectually, I could not get my emotions to feel anything but nothingness. "O-okay?" I sighed deeply. It hurt to be nothing when standing in the same room with someone who was everything. I shook my head. "I'msad." I didn't really know if I was sad because of the nothingness or if I the nothingness was caused by being sad. I had no energy to figure that shit out. "C-c-can I hhhelp?" I shook my head but moved to sit next to him on his bed. I pressed into his body and was calmed by his now-familiar scent. I didn't look at the clock, but we sat there for a good long while. I thought about who I wanted to be. The only thing I could come up with was that I wanted to be the type of girl who could be comfortable holding hands with her boyfriend and letting him touch her face. I took one of his hands in mine. It was still damaged. It was upsetting that he had done that to himself. Dr. Cullen clued me into his whole hand-biting thing and I hated it. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat. "Will you touch my face?" I asked quietly. "You d-don't llllike that," he returned, just as quietly. "I know," I whispered back, "but I like you and I want to be able to let you do that." Edward's body shifted and my heart beat faster. "Promise you'll stop when I tell you to."

"I p-p-promise." I took in a deep breath when I saw his hand move towards me. I tried to keep my eyes open but there was an intense rush of fear that coursed through me and my body reacted without my permission. My eyes shut tightly and my body seemed to shake with the anticipation of his touch on the delicate skin of my face. I kept telling myself that it was just Edward and he didn't and wouldn't hurt me. I felt his feather-light touch on my cheekbone and I clenched my teeth. It was just Edward. My body was shaking and my folded legs bounced. So beautiful. It was just Edward and I had asked him to do this. This was my choice That's it, dirty girl. I was doing this to be a better girlfriend for him. It was my choice to be touched like this. His palm was against my cheek, this thumb near my eye. Bella. I struggled to remain in Edward's room with him. I didn't want to think about Phoenix. I didn't want to think of big hands and nasty words. I might not have wanted to, but I was being sucked backwards into the deepest pit I could imagine and I was back in Renee's kitchen. I was doing the dishes. Renee and her boyfriend ate their dinner upstairs. "Your mom's been whoring herself, hasn't she?" My body stiffened at his voice. I didn't turn to look at him. "She's had other guys over, hasn't she?" It was true, but I had no words so I just focused on cleaning the coffee stains on his favorite cup. I could feel his heat behind me and then I could feel just the tips of his fingers on my cheeks. He dragged them back into my hair and pulled it all to one side. His mouth was near my ear. "Your mom's a whore." The food I ate sat like a rock in my stomach and I felt sick. His arms were around my waist and he pulled me back against him. My hands slipped out of the soapy water and grew cold as the conditioned air hit them. It was a chore just to maintain a regular breathing pattern. Somehow he'd spun me around, picked me up, and set me on the countertop. He forced my legs apart and stood between them, bringing his hands up to cup my face again. "I don't care that she's a whore. Do you know why, Bella?"

I looked at the wall behind him and allowed my eyes to travel until they found a corner to focus on. His hands were no longer cupping my face, but were gripping my head tightly. "Do you know why, Bella?" he asked again, his voice much tighter. I shook my head as best I could, hating the tears that welled in my eyes. The water in the sink was growing cold. I would have to drain it just to finish the pots and pans. "Because I've got my dirty girl. Isn't that right?" If I boiled water on the stove and poured it right on that mug, the stains would come off easily and I could put it in the dishwasher. Hands tightened even more. He'd asked me a question. I couldn't remember what it was, so I nodded. "That's right. My dirty girl." Thumbs brushed under my eyes again and I shoved away. When my eyes opened, I saw Edward and not the man who called me a dirty girl. I tried not to react, but I failed. I unfolded my legs and moved off the bed quickly. I studied his books. "I'm ssssorry, B-Bella. I hated that he apologized for doing what I asked him to do. I hadn't been able to tell him to stop. I fucking hated that I couldn't be touched by my kind and gentle boyfriend without being overcome by memories of being a dirty girl. It was late, but I was thirsty. I moved quietly down the stairs. Charlie was in the recliner. I thought he was passed out, but as I glanced in, he said, "Nice shirt." I stopped immediately but said nothing. "I looked all over for it." I swallowed hard. I tried to be still, but my body fidgeted. I had taken the Chili Peppers concert t-shirt years ago. It was the only thing of Charlie's that had escaped Renee's notice, so she hadn't made me set fire to it. "Harry, Billy, and I went to that concert after graduation." Charlie nodded. "It was a good night." I looked away. "What? Do you want it back now?" At his deep breath, I looked back. He shook his head as he pushed the foot rest down and sat up straight. I thought for a moment that he was going to get up and come toward me. My body prepared itself to move quickly if needed, but he remained seated. "I've lived without it for five or six years, Bella. You can keep it."

 I thought by having therapy on Thursday I wouldn't be required to have a session with Dr. Hale on Friday, but again after listening to Angela assure Hale that she'd eaten and hadn't thrown up, I found myself in Dr. Cullen's study. She asked me about Renee's other boyfriends and if any of them had ever tried to get Renee to stop being mean to me. Again, I found myself talking to this woman without even really wanting to. I didn't know how she did it. I wasn't happy spilling shit to her, but somehow it just happened. "There was one guy, one of Renee's boyfriends. His name was Phil. He was nice and he tried to get her to treat mebetter. She never did anything really mean to me when he was around though." "What happened?" "My mom thought I was fucking him." I seemed to have Dr. Hale's full attention and it made me nervous. I shifted under her gaze. "What did she do?" "Kicked him out." "What did she do to you?" I had no clue how Dr. Hale was able to make her voice do that. It was justdetached, but still involved somehow. I liked it. I wish I could figure out how to do that. But no matter how detached she sounded, I still didn't like her questions. "Phil would buy me stuff." "What did your mother do when she kicked Phil out?" My head was turned from her, my eyes trained on my favorite corner. I looked at the paint. It was professionally done, I could tell, but I still saw just the faintest brush stroke. While I looked at the corner and thought about the paint, my mouth pushed out words about things that were easy to talk about. "He used to travel all the time and he'd bring me something from every place he visited. He bought me a horse, not a real one, a ceramic one, obviously, from Kentucky and a porcelain doll from Germany. And this one time he brought me back this little unpolished piece of marble from Rome. That was my favorite." I heard Dr. Hale take a deep breath. I was half-tempted to look over at her just to see what expression she wore, but it was much easier to avoid her questions when I didn't look at her. "Bella, what did your mother do when she thought he was having sex with you?" "I told you, she kicked him out." "To you, Bella, what did she do to you?"

"Phil took pictures for a living. He bought me my camera." I remembered how he'd told my mom that it was just some old camera he had, but I knew it was brand new, straight out of the box. He showed me how to use it and I took my first picture. It was of my favorite cactus. "Bella?" "What?" "Why won't you answer my question?" Her voice was still calm and curious. "What question is that?" I stopped thinking about Phil and the camera and focused again on the paint. It was tan or something close to it. Nice and earthy. "Bella." "What?" "What did your mother do when she kicked him out?" "It doesn't matter." Her voice grew firm. "It does matter." "I'm not going to tell you, Dr. Hale." She paused and I finally turned to face her. "Why did your mother think he was having sex with you?" I shrugged. "She said he looked at me while I cooked dinner." "Did he have sex with you?" I turned away again, shaking my head. "He held my hand one time. I thought he wanted me tobut he got really mad." I took a deep breath and shrugged again. "He said he didn't want that." "So this was after" "Yes." I wished she'd stop bringing that shit up all the time. "How did you react to Phil when he said he didn't want that from you?" "I don't know," I said with a shrug. That was a lie. I had felt terrified and confused. "How are you doing with abstaining from sex?" I looked at her again. She liked jumping topics. "Fine." "You don't sound fine with it, Bella. What's wrong?" "I just don't understand the big deal. I like having sex. I'm sure you like having sex. I don't get why we have to talk about it all the time like I'm some kind of freak for liking it. I don't get why it's okay for you and not for me. Why is it different?" Dr. Hale sat back in her chair and folded her hands together on her lap. "Because I wasn't raped as an

eleven-year-old girl. As a child, I wasn't used for pleasure for four years. Because I don't use sex as a form of validation." She paused and I looked away. I fucking hated this conversation. "Because I know that I'm loved and worthy without having sex. That is why it's different." My whole being had just stopped at her words. I hated them, but only because they were the truth. "Let's talk a little bit about what it means to survive. You are a survivor, Bella. You've lived a very long time closed off inside a world of pain. There are countless case studies that show others who employ the same methods you have in order to ensure their survival." I couldn't help asking, as much as I wished I would have just remained silent. "What methods?" "There's a level of expectation. You expected everyday to be horrific and what others might see as brutal and terrifying, you've accepted it as regular, everyday occurrences. You've let men use you because that's what you know. You expect men to want you for pleasure, so it's normal for you. You've over-used drugs because you've learned that drugs help you become a third party to the pain. Almost as if you were witnessing it instead of experiencing it." She paused. "You were raped, Bella. Nothing you did caused that, but it happened. Other survivors have employed the same tactics." She was quiet for a little bit and I was thankful. I couldn't take much more. I just wanted to go to Edward's room and lay on his bed with him and feel him next to me. "Tell me, Bella, what do you know about PTSD?" I didn't say anything. "Sights and smells elicit certain dramatic responses from you, don't they?" I sighed and focused back on the corner I liked. I didn't want to talk about PTSD. I wasn't some goddamned wounded soldier from Iraq. It was bullshit, but I thought about sex and how hard it has been to not fuck these past couple of weeks. There were things that I wondered about. Things that made me feel guilty and ashamed. I didn't want to feel ashamed about sex. Sex fucking felt great. I knew that happened with Renee's boyfriend wasn't right. I knew it wasn't, but Fuck! I needed to stop thinking and focus on the paint. If I couldn't do that, my mind was going to start jonesing for something to calm it. I didn't want to think about any of this stupid shit any more. "Bella, what's on your mind?" "He" I heard my hesitant voice say. I wasn't going to fucking talk about this. So why were my lips moving? Why was my throat allowing air to be pushed through it like this? Why did I hear myself say, "He made mecome." Dr. Hale was silent and I saw out of the corner of my eye that she was just looking at me. I wrapped my arms around my legs tightly.

"Do you think your orgasm equated to permission?" My eyes closed as I laid my head on my knees. "Children cannot consent to sexual contact with an adult. They do not have the knowledge or the emotional foundation to even understand the concept. As I've told you before orgasms are the body's trained response to certain stimuli. It's not your fault, and your body having produced an orgasm didn't validate the rape." I cringed. I wished she'd stop saying 'orgasm' and 'rape.' "That man, Renee's boyfriend, raped you, Bella." "I want to go see Edward." "Soon." Dr. Hale's quiet voice paused. "Was he ever kind to you?" I nodded, knowing the sooner I talked to her about this shit, the sooner she'd let me go to Edward. "Sometimes he'dtouch me like he loved me." "Was that confusing?" I nodded. Of course it was confusing. "I didn't know if he'd be mean or nice. When he was nice, he would" I swallowed back the rest of the words. "Did he give you your first orgasm?" "Yes." I was so fucking tired and I didn't want to talk anymore. "I want to see Edward." Dr. Hale didn't stop asking questions. "Did he ever bring anyone over?" I furrowed my brow and held my breath. "What?" "Did he bring other men into the house when you were home alone?" I knew what she was asking but I wasn't going to answer. In fact, I pushed the question out of my mind entirely. "I don't want to talk anymore. I'm going to see Edward now." I stood. "Bella?" I swallowed hard and managed to draw my eyes to her. "What?" "Children can't consent." Edward looked tired too. He'd had a session with that dude and seemed about as exhausted as I felt. We lay together in his bed for a long time. He'd picked out some kind of Indian music to play in the background.

We didn't talk. I enjoyed the silence. I enjoyed his warmth. I enjoyed the sound of his heart beating as I lay my head upon his chest. His arms felt good around my shoulders. His breath was like waves of peace as it swept across my forehead. I was pretty sure most of the other kids had gone home. "I w-w-want to show you something, B-Bella." He sat up and I came up with him. He held my hand and tugged me up off the bed. "What?" "I w-want you to hhhear somethingon the p-p-piano." "Your family's down there, Edward." He didn't like being in front of a lot of people and I knew it would make him anxious and maybe even a little panicked. It was the whole reason he didn't take music classes at school. Edward took a deep breath and nodded. "I kn-know." We made our way down to the piano. When he had settled himself down on the bench, I sat next to him. I trained my eyes on his hands, hovering above the black and white keys. "Don't they hurt?" "They're ffffine," he answered slowly. His thumb pressed down and a soft note floated out. "This is hhhhow I ffffeel w-when I think ab-bout you." His fingers moved as if they were in perfect condition. The melody was so beautiful and moving, but knowing this was some kind of expression of how he felt about me was completely overwhelming. My heart hurt listening to it. My whole body ached from the power of it all. I didn't know why Edward liked me, but I knew that he shouldn't. I was all wrong for him. I was bad when he was good. He was light and I was dark. I was dirty and he was clean. I brought pain and darkness and he brought hope and light. Jesus fucking Christ, why was this so hard? Somewhere inside of me, there was this little tiny piece. It was like a garden. There had been no sunshine and no life-sustaining rain. No one had loved it in a long time and suddenly, I could feel this small little sprout poking up between the cracks of the dry, blistered earth. It wound around and twisted through the dead and decayed foliage of long ago. When I looked at Edward, his eyes focused on his hands as he played my song, that little sprout opened up and bloomed.

Chapter 45: Bent and Broken Edward "Edward," Dr. Eleazar began. "I'd like to talk about music again." "O-okay."

"Music fascinates me, but not as much as the stories behind the music. When I listen to certain pieces, I always find myself preoccupied with what I know of the musicians. Beethoven wasn't a well-liked man. He was incredibly mean to people and yet he managed to compose some of the most well-loved melodies of all time. How does that happen?" I didn't know if he had a point or if this was all just mindless chit-chat in an attempt to make me speak. I was sure that his question was rhetorical, so I stayed silent. "How much of himself does a musician put into his music? Think about his Moonlight Sonata. What frame of mind was he in when he wrote that? Compare it to Ode to Joy. One is completely dark and the other is so light." I shook my head. "What?" He brought one leg up and rested the ankle on the opposite knee. "What are your thoughts?" "Ode to J-J-Joy is ab-bout the j-j-joy that he lllllost. It's n-not hhhhappy. I-it's ab-bout how sharp the llllloss of j-j-j-j" I stopped and took a breath. "Joy is. It's a celebration of its r-r-remembrance, but it's ssssstill g-g-gone. It's an e-exhhhhhap-p-praise of sssssssomething he m-misses." I looked up. Dr. Eleazar had one eyebrow raised. He was waiting for the rest. "And hhhhis SSSSonata N-Number Ffffourteen isn't sssssad." Beyond the title, it certainly wasn't dark either. I didn't understand why people had this interpretation. Granted, I had no idea what Beethoven was thinking when he wrote it, but to me it was calm and peaceful. It was about the night and all of the quiet things that come alive once the world goes to sleep. "Do you think that Beethoven's growing disability can be perceived in his music?" "P-p-probably." "If his Ninth Symphony was a reflection of how great his joy was, or at least how he remembered it after having lost it, do you think that he could have written something so brilliant if he'd never known true sorrow?" I knew what he was trying to say, but I didn't want to answer him. There was no way to quantify sorrow and joy and to compare them. Was the joy worth it if it meant having to be tortured to understand the depths of that joy? How could one know true joy without true sadness? "W-w-what does it mmmmatter? N-no one liiiiked it w-when he p-played it for them anyw-way. They didn't c-c-care that he could hhhhardly hhhhear at that p-p-point. M-m-m-mmaybe they didn't even kn-know." "But now that we know he was deaf, does it make the song that much better because we're aware of the adversity he overcame to write it?" Again, I considered that a rhetorical question and did not answer. "Back to the question about how much of the composer's feelings can be contained within a piece," he said after readjusting himself in the chair. "I was told that you write music. How much of yourself do you reveal in those compositions? Do they come from some thought you have; some observation you might be thinking at the time? If not, how are they created? Do you use it to express certain thoughts or emotions that are either physically or emotionally impossible to express through mere words?" I shook my head. Even if I wanted to tell him about how music filled my brain and spoke in the only

language that felt right to me, I wouldn't have been able to say find the words to answer so many questions at once. "When you were young, you didn't listen to music. You didn't play music. You are naturally gifted, but didn't discover it until you were twelve. Did you feel like there was a void then?" I felt like I had found the missing piece of myself when I found music, but I hadn't really known about it before, so I hadn't actively missed it. I shook my head. "You said last time that your mother sang to you, but only one song. Other than that, you were able to listen to a few songs, but only once a year. Why was your exposure to music so limited when you were a child, Edward?" I felt my body deflate and sort of sink in on itself. I wished I could just not answer the question, but he had asked me directly and it would have been wrong not to answer him, if only partially. Also, he would have read about everything in my past anyway. He already knew and was trying to get me to say it. "Mmmmy fffather w-w-w-wouldn't allow m-mm-mmm-mmmusic." "So when you were twelve, you sat down at the piano and discovered you could play?" I shook my head. "The g-g-guitar." "What did it feel like to discover something like that?" I looked up at him and his eyes showed excitement. "I've heard you're quite talented. I'm very interested to know how someone who has had no training at all can play so well." It was hard for me not to catch his excitement and run with it. No one had ever questioned me about music in this way. They never asked me why I thought I could play or how it felt to have the ability to make music. I found myself wishing I had the words to tell him. "It j-j-just mmmmakes sense." I tried to think of a way I could explain how easily music came to me, but there seemed to be no adequate words. "You can read music, yes?" "Yes, sssir." "Who taught you?" "I t-t-taught m-m-mmyself." "How?" It had been fairly easy once Carlisle bought me sheet music. All I had to do was look at the symbols and listen to the music at the same time. He got me a finger board and once I understood that notes and chords were associated with letters, everything clicked and I was not only able to play, but I could read and write music too. But reading music meant little to me. I could listen to pieces by Chopin, Mozart, Rachmaninoff, Debussy, Schubert or Liszt and be able to play any one of them on the piano almost perfectly within hours. It was incredibly easy to translate any modern song into a guitar, piano or violin piece, and creating original music sometimes took no thought at all.

Dr. Eleazar was waiting for an answer. "I l-looked at the ssssheet music and lllllistened." "Where do you think your gift for music comes from? Your mother?" Intellectually I knew that he was using my musical inclination to get me to talk about things that I didn't want to talk about. For some reason, I let myself answer him. "My mmmmom sang to me, but she w-w-wouldn't let me sing w-with her." "Why was that?" "My d-d-d," I stopped and sighed. "My ffffather w-would have p-p-p-punished me." "May I be honest with you, Edward?" In truth, his question scared me. I was all for honesty, but I did not know this man. Perhaps his honesty would be too much. "Y-yes," I answered, and braced myself. "I know that your father was a religious man, but I don't quite understand with what kind of religion he was affiliated. I know that he was 'Christian,' butThe Bible mentions music in a positive light. Both David and Solomon were musicians. In Acts, Paul and Silas were imprisoned and their only comforts were the songs of praise they sang. Hell, there's an entire book of Psalms." It was difficult for me to concentrate on what Dr. Eleazar was saying. My mind was quick to latch onto the names he dropped as if they were nothing. David, Solomon, Paul, Silas. It quickly supplied every fact and story I knew surrounding them He'd also said 'Hell' in the same sentence as 'Psalms'. But right now I had to put that aside and answer his question. "Mmmusic is for those w-who are w-w-w-w-worthy. The D-D-Devil and his d-d-demons use it to attract the w-weak." I couldn't take my eyes off this new doctor as he removed his glasses and rested them on his thigh. His fingers laced together as his mouth set into a line. He had brown eyes, like Bella, but they weren't nearly as rich. They were calculating and manipulative, like Esme's blue eyes. He was making me as nervous as the topic. My mouth spoke without my conscious mind giving it leave. "And I heard a sound from Heaven like the roar of rushing waters and like a loud peal of thunder. The sound I heard was like that of harpists playing their harps. And they sang a new song before the throne and before four living creatures and the elders. No one could learn the song except the 144,000 who had been redeemed from the earth." "Hmmm." What was 'hmmm' supposed to mean? "So he was a Revelationist and you were not among the 144,000 that would be saved in the Rapture?" I didn't know exactly what my father was, but I knew that he did not believe I was among the saved. I shrugged at the doctor. I wished we were still talking about Beethoven. "Was he among the 144,000?"

I shrugged again. "So, help me understand, Edward. The music of the Rapture was for the 144,000 alone and yet there are countless verses in the Bible in which music is used as an exaltation of God. Your father's ban on music was his way of preparing for the end-times?" Scripture ran quickly through my mind. It filled me. These past few weeks had been the most clouded my mind had been since first leaving my father's house. It was a jumble in my head. Just because I heard them in my mind, didn't mean I could make sense of any of it. It was amidst the backdrop of Scripture that my father's words dug sharp talons into me. He would lecture that the Devil would use pretty things to corrupt us. Music ate at the very righteousness of our souls. Who were we to think so highly of ourselves that we should offer up music to God? There were many ways to respond to Dr. Eleazar's question, but I decided to repeat my father's words. "M-mmmmusic is vvvvain and vvvvanity is sssinful." I couldn't stop the verse in my head from bubbling over and spilling out. "He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully. He shall receive the blessing from the Lord, and righteousness from the God of his salvation." "But that is from the book of Psalms, is it not?" I nodded. "Then how can it be a justification for why music is not righteous? Psalms is a book of poetry, a book of songs." My fingers curled. Create in me a new, clean heart, O God, filled with clean thoughts and right desires. "If I were to read the Bible, how many times would it tell me to rejoice in God by means of song and music?" My chest rose and fell rapidly. "That's" I began to speak, but my words fell short when I could not make sense of what was in my mind. My thoughts were rapid, making my head hurt. Even though I was in the presence of a man I did not know well, my eyes shut tight and I covered my head with my arms. "Edward?" I concentrated on breathing. "Edward?" Finally, after long minutes, my arms unwrapped and fell limply into my lap. I looked at him. "That's n-n-n-not w-w-w-what m-my fffffather believed." "What did he believe?"

"Mmmmusic is vvvvain. Vvvanity is sssssinful. Ssssin is unclean. Being unc-c-clean is a t-t-t-transggggresssssion against G-G-God. Abstaining ffffrom ind-d-dulgence is the only w-w-way to ssssalvation." "So you being so gifted musically would have been offensive to him? Is it difficult for you to rectify the desire to express yourself through music with the dogma of your father's personal religion?" "I d-d-don't b-b-believe everything mmmy fffffather t-taught me." "But you believe some of it. It must be somewhat debilitating to think that something innate, such as your passion for music, goes against what God wants from you." He paused and I was thankful for the brief respite from his onslaught. "So when your mother sang to you, she told you not to sing with her?" Slowly, I nodded. "Your mother accepted the risk of being punished for the music she felt within her, but was unwilling to allow you to take the risk yourself?" I remained silent. "So is expressing yourself, in any manner, something that is difficult because you fear punishment?" I felt so tired. I felt like I could sleep for days and it would still not be enough. Even though this time I knew better, I treated his question as rhetorical and did not answer. ... Bella looked as tired as I felt after her time with Esme, so we lay together listening to music. I didn't know what she was thinking about, but I couldn't help but replay and analyze my conversation with Dr. Eleazar. I had never taken part in any in-depth conversations about my father and his version of God. Of course, I didn't believe half of what my father taught me, even while the leather strap was splitting my skin. However, I was smart enough to never express my thoughts. But the doctor was correct in his assumption; I did believe there were things my father said that were correct. I thought for a while about music and emotion. Esme thought my emotions were repressed, locked up, and Dr. Eleazar pointed out that most of the composers I listened to used music as their basic expression. I thought about all the things I couldn't express due to my lack of bravery and verbal competence. Bella felt really good to me as her head lay upon my chest. After a while, we went downstairs to play the piano. She'd reminded me that there were others down there, but I told her I didn't care. At least for the most part, I didn't. I just wanted her to hear the song that echoed every time I thought of her. It was slightly nerve-wracking to sit down on the piano bench with her. While we'd been here before, I

hadn't played anything I'd written for her. I didn't panic, but instead forced myself to remember that I was the one wanting to share it with her. If I didn't want to, I didn't have to, and most of all, it was Bella. She proved that she wanted to know me. She wasn't going to make fun of me. She wasn't going to think the song was stupid or that I was stupid for playing it. I told her it was for her and she sat there and listened. I was very aware of her eyes on me while I played and I thought about my conversation with Dr. Eleazar. I hoped that the listener would be able to gather a little something about me through this song. I'd written quite a few songs at various times in the past and I thought the emotion I had while writing them was evident. I'd been afraid. I was tired of being afraid. My father was a long way away and couldn't hear the music I made. Even if he found out, I knew that there were enough people here who would protect me from him. I was far enough removed to feel a little bit of peace. While I was nervous playing this for Bella, I felt no fear. As I finished, she smiled at me. Fatigue was evident, but when I suggested getting up, she shook her head. I played more for her; not my songs, but Chopin's. I'd been particularly preoccupied with his Raindrop Prelude for weeks now, listening to it every chance I got, the melody dancing along in my head while doing my daily activities. After I that, I played his Nocturne, and a more modern piece I'd heard playing in the grocery store a few weeks ago. I didn't know who it was by and I didn't play it exactly how I remembered it. My fingers and hands didn't hurt. My bones felt solid and the skin above them was scabbed over, making it tight when I moved them, but I felt no pain. I was thankful to have this time to play the piano for Bella, for my mom, and for myself. My mom would have been happy that I could play music like this. Bella probably could have listened to me all night and had I not been so tired, I would have kept going all night, but after everyone left and I could hear the Wii being turned on, I stood up and closed the lid. I took her hand and she rose up to meet me, leaning forward into my chest for just a moment before straightening. I led her back upstairs and together we lay down on my bed. With her head pillowed on my bicep as we lay facing each other, she was asleep in a few short minutes. Bella talked in her sleep. I had noticed before that she mumbled, but tonight she spoke actual words. At first it was just a few softly-spoken words. She said 'flower' and a little while later she said 'dirty' and its opposite, 'clean'. I had thought she was finished and my eyes closed, but at just the moment where my body and mind felt like they would come together and fall asleep, Bella yelled. I knew she said something, but my tired brain couldn't figure it out. My eyes opened and focused on her. Her sleeping face was nowhere near peaceful. Her breathing was all wrong and only a few seconds later, she gasped for breath. Her eyes popped open, her hands moving up to push at my chest.

I wasn't quite sure what I should do. I didn't want her to leave my arms, but I didn't want her to feel caged either. I wanted to comfort her. I moved to rub her shoulders as I placed my other hand gently on her hip. "Fuck," she panted. Her eyes were wild for a second until they connected directly with mine. I watched her as she swallowed hard. Slowly, her body began to relax again. ... I had taken Bella home around eleven. She let me walk her to her door. It was simple and probably stupid, but being able to do that made me happy. I fell asleep that night wishing for peace for Bella, but knowing that like me, true peace might never actually come. She could wake up the rest of her life with scared, wild eyes and cuss words. When I thought about the last week or so, I was not proud of much of it. I had told her secret and hadn't been able to adequately apologize for it. She had left. Then she had gotten high and according to her, shared a kiss with Jacob that probably was more than a kiss. Most of me couldn't blame him since if I was him, I would kiss her too, but there was a part of me that wanted to break my hands on his face just like I did to Newton. Bella now knew more about me than anyone else. While I had no fear showing her my musical inclination, she'd seen my back and I had told her about my father and about purity. That made me afraid. There was power in what she knew and that frightened me. I didn't worry about how Bella would use that power, but I worried about what that power could fester into now that the words to convey it were out there. I knew my father was wrong about music. Dr. Eleazar was right on the mark with it being a way to praise God and His love, but my father hadn't been wrong about my soul being marked. He was not wrong about the wickedness within me. I knew she wouldn't understand. I knew she didn't see me like that. Bella's eyes were clouded because I was the only person not looking to take anything from her. I only wanted what she would or could freely give, and she knew it. That was why she could fall asleep with me. My eyes weren't clouded. I could see everything about Bella, and there were things I hated. I hated that she thought so little of herself. I hated that she put down her obvious talent and culinary skills. I hated that she preferred to use her body rather than her emotions to give someone pleasure. I hated that after thinking I betrayed her, the first thing she did was get high. I hated that she went to Jacob. I hated that someone had hurt her so deeply that she thought she was only good for one thing. But I loved that she tried to be different. I was not unaware that given the opportunity, she would be high. I knew that her sobriety was on my shoulders and if it weren't for whatever she felt for me, she'd either still be getting high or be in rehab. She didn't have to tell me. I felt the pressure to keep her clear-minded and level-headed. I would accept any pressure put on me because she was worth it. I would help her, just as she would

help me. I loved that she wanted to be better, even if it was just for me. I doubted very seriously that I would have ever shown her my back and let her touch had I not been sedated, but I felt okay about it. It made me uneasy that I couldn't seem to stop quoting Scripture or regurgitating all of the things my father beat into me. I knew she didn't like it. I knew she was not only 'non-religious' but that she was down-right anti-religious. I would have called her anti-God, but my heart sped up and my lungs froze at the mere thought. I wasn't quite sure how anyone could operate without thinking that there was a higher power. For all of my father's insistence that God could never truly be on my side since I was so clearly marked by Lucifer, I had come to peace with God. God might not have loved me, but I knew that I was a piece of the God I Am. How could God know peace without knowing chaos? How could God know beauty and righteousness without knowing ugliness and wickedness? God accepted all things, as we are all a part of His greatness. God accepted me despite my tainted soul and wicked spirit. Bella had not only seen my back, but also my books. She'd heard me recite the names of the disciples and the books of the Bible. When she pushed me, she called me a robot. It just gave further credit to Esme's hypothesis that my emotions were repressed. I didn't want to be a robot, which was why when she validated what I already believed - that she had given herself to both Jacob and Tyler - it was hard to push down what I felt. I wanted to feel it. I wanted to get mad, just like she was asking me to. But I was very careful not to be mad at her, but at the situation. It wasn't just anger. I didn't know what it was, but my mind directed my body to take her. I wanted possession of everything she had. I needed her to be mine in ways she would never belong to another, while also possessing her in the same way the others had. Her heat was delicious. Her body on mine melted the frozen bits of me. I felt scorched by the contrast. I wished that I could have taken it further because I wanted to, but no matter how much I wanted to, my body and mind froze in unison and I had to stop. She apologized for pushing me, but I was okay that she had. I didn't want to be a robot, especially with her. Bella was passion and I wanted passion. Bella was warm and I was tired of being cold. Bella was fierce and fiery and my meek and mild temperament needed to be drenched with her, if only just for a small moment. It hurt that she'd run to Jacob because she was upset with me. It hurt that I couldn't combat her anger the night she found out I told Esme, but it was who we were. Bella would externalize everything, using whatever easy means was within her grasp to lash out and I would turn inward, collapsing in on myself in order to avoid the lash of others or the sting of my own whip.

In many ways, what happened was what needed to happen. I was naked and exposed to her now. She'd seen my back. She'd heard my automatic recitation of deeply ingrained words. She had heard the way I felt about her through the song I had played for her. In short, Bella knew. She knew me. I couldn't change that now and although it frightened me, I knew it was for the best. It wasn't good for her to be so closed-off, just as it wasn't good for me. She'd asked me to touch her face and that was more monumental than anything that had ever happened to me. She wanted to get over the things that wounded her, the things that continue to wound her every day, and she wanted my help. Saturday I went to the Thriftway to pick her up after her shift. She was late and it made me nervous, so I went in to find her. After a quick walk around the store, my panic grew. Logically, there were only a few places she could be if she was really at work, but my mind fixated on the her not being where I could see her. Maybe she never made it to work. Maybe she'd gotten high after I dropped her off. Maybe she over-dosed. Maybe someone took her. Maybe Chief Swan and Esme shipped her off to a rehabilitation center. Maybe she ran away. Maybe "She's upstairs." I blinked and then turned. Jessica Stanley was leaning against her cash register looking very bored. Even though Jessica Stanley was talking to me, I felt my fears and anxiety lessen. She knew where Bella was, and that was all I cared about. "I think she got in trouble or something. The manager looked pissed." "C-c-c-c-c" I was going to ask if I could go up there because an angry manager and Bella in t rouble worried me, but the words stuck in my throat and I gave up and pointed. Jessica shrugged, but her expression seemed to indicate that it would be okay, so I moved quickly up the stairs and ignored the 'employees only' signs. I found myself looking into an office through a glass window in the door. Bella shouldn't have been with her boss behind a closed door. It wasn't right. I couldn't see Bella's face as she was sitting with her back to me, so I couldn't tell what emotion she was feeling at the moment, but I didn't need to see her expression to see where his eyes were focused. He was talking to her chest and I felt my jaw tighten. I wanted to hit him. He hired her. He knew how old she was. He also wore a gold band on the ring finger of his left hand. He had no business looking at Bella like that. Anger flooded through me and my hands curled into fists. I wanted to hurt him for looking at her like she was, or would ever be, his.

One fist pounded on the glass as my other hand twisted the doorknob. Thank God it was unlocked. I would've broken the glass and injured my hands even further. Bella wanted to hear me play the violin. Bloody, torn hands couldn't play violins, at least not well. I watched her exclusively as I entered the cramped office. Her head swept around, fanning her hair through the air. Her mouth shifted from a frown to a wide smile. "Edward!" "Excuse me." I trained my eyes back on her balding manager, my brow furrowing deeper. "Can I help you, son?" I forced my jaw to unlock and I drew up all of the angry energy I had and tried to speak. At first nothing came but after a quick couple of seconds, I pointed at my girlfriend. "B-Bella." He looked from me to her and then back to me again. "Miss Swan's shift isn't over. Please wait outside." Essentially, he'd dismissed me, turning his filthy eyes back to Bella's chest. He shouldn't be looking at her like that. She wasn't his to look at like that. My fists were curled again and my breathing was quick and unsteady. I fought hard to keep myself still. I felt like I was half fighting back a panic attack and half trying to restrain myself from ramming my fists into his fat face. I felt my fingers being pried apart and I turned my head, coming face to face with Bella. "I'm okay, Edward," she said quietly. I was happy that she was 'okay' by her standards, but her boss was obviously out of line staring at her breasts as if it was his right. She wasn't a sexual object and I wanted to force him to understand that. I looked back at him as my fingers tightened again, this time squeezing hers. "D-don't llllook at her like that again." I finished the demand strong and even though it could have been better. I felt a little proud that I hadn't messed it up completely. "Excuse me?" I didn't respond. It was clear by the flush on his face that he'd heard me. I spun around, bringing Bella with me and tugged her through the door. I moved through the hallway and down the stairs with purpose. We stopped by the time clock and I waited until she had punched out before pulling her through the mechanical doors, out into the vestibule, and then out into the parking lot. When we neared my car, my feet slowed until I was walking at a semi-normal pace. "Edward, stop." I felt a tug on my arm and my body jerked to a stop. I searched her face to see if she was mad or hurt or just plain upset, and was relieved to find she was none of them. I arched an eyebrow. She smiled and stepped toward me. Rising up on her toes, Bella pressed her lips into my cheek as her hand gave mine a gentle squeeze. "W-w-what w-was that for?"

When she stepped back, the smile still remained on her face. "For saving me and shitlike usual." I moved my hand to her neck, feeling the now familiar scar with my thumb. It was cold outside and people were looking at us as they pushed their full shopping carts to their cars, but I didn't really care. I was happy to be in her presence and calmed by her closeness. It wasn't until I had her in my room that I asked her why she had gotten in trouble. Before she could answer, Alice knocked on the door. I asked her to go away. I wasn't incredibly polite, but I didn't want Alice to get a hold of Bella and take her away from me. I wanted Bella for myself and hadn't planned on sharing her with anyone. "I justI don't know. They have all these stupid rules about people under eighteen. I can't use the cardboard baler, I can't use a box cutter, I can't do this or that and it's stupid. I was tired of waiting for Riley to fucking open the stupid box of spices, so I fucking grabbed the box cutter and did it myself. It wouldn't have been a big deal, except the stupid 'Safety Champion' or whatever, saw me and told my manager." Bella sighed and then flopped down onto my bed. "And then there was this stupid customer wanting some stupid chicken noodle packet of shit and it wasn't on the shelf. I went back to see if we had more, but we didn't and she rolled her eyes and acted like it was my fucking fault that we were out of it. She basically called me a fucking brain-dead loser, so I said 'bitch' under my breath. She didn't like it and told my stupid manager." Her eyes opened and focused on me as she shrugged. "Apparently they have all these rules in retail about what not to say to a customer. I broke about fifteen today." "B-b-but you're not fired, r-right?" "I don't fucking know. He was getting to that part when you got all dashing and brave." She sat up and smiled. "You should've hit him. That would have been funny." And it would've felt good, I added silently, but shook my head as I sat down next to her. She turned to me. "It's fucking sexy, you know?" "W-what?" "When you're strong like that. Like when Alice was hurt. You were so fucking sexy." I didn't know what to say to that. Bella made me nervous, like always. It wasn't that she put pressure on me to say anything, but I wanted to speak, and speak right when I was around her. I wanted to respond to her words about my strength. But Bella continued before my mouth and mind could get it together. "Can I kiss you?" The words 'sexy' and 'kiss' were so close together as they hung there, almost visually taunting me, but despite the tingle of rising panic, I nodded because there was no way that I would miss the opportunity of feeling Bella that close to me.

She moved closer, but then stopped and shook her head. "Wait." My eyebrow arched and she smiled. "You kiss me." I must have looked frightened or panicked because she took my hands and smiled. "It's not scary. You know I won't say no. Sometimes you have to just take what you want." She stood up and tugged me with her until we were standing very close together, then put my hands on her hips and squeezed, making me grip her tighter than I felt was necessary. She removed her hands from atop mine and brought them to my chest. I swallowed hard against the bubbling fear and panic. My hands loosened as my neck bent, my head hanging in shame. I couldn't do it. I couldn't kiss my girlfriend the way she wanted to be kissed. She was right. Logically, there was nothing to be afraid of and yet, the pressure to kiss her mixed with my own fears of not doing it right, of not being right for her, froze me. I heard her sigh and my eyes closed. I didn't want to see her disappointment. I opened my eyes again when I felt her hands recover mine. She tightened them, forcing me to grip her again. Her hips were mostly covered by her khaki cargo pants, but they were low-slung and her shirt was bunched up, so my fingers were digging into her naked flesh as well. I focused on breathing as my eyes locked with hers. She looked incredibly determined. With her hands holding mine in place, she stepped forward, closer to me until I felt her breasts press against my upper torso and the heat that radiated from her warmed me once more. She smelled so unbelievably good. With one last squeeze of my hands, she let go, her hands trailing up my arms to my shoulders and then sliding up my neck to my cheeks. Her thumbs stroked the line of my jaw as her fingers curled around to tickle the short hairs at the base of my neck. "Kiss me, Edward," she whispered just as her fingernails scraped lightly across my neck, sending shivers down my body and causing my breath to stick. I could do it. I could give her want she wanted and what she needed. I just had to do it and not think. Thinking made me nervous and bound. I must not have moved quickly enough because her hands slid down to my chest and she pushed at me a little. It wasn't like she was pushing me away. She didn't use enough force and my hands were still holding her tightly. Bella's eyes scorched me as they blazed. She wanted me to kiss her. And I was going to do it. I stumbled forward a bit, pushing her backwards. I was anxious and my body was tight and my muscles stiff, but I lowered my lips to hers. At first it was just a slight brushing, but instinctually, my hands tightened and I pressed against her harder. Her back was against my door now and somewhere in the back of my mind, I was worried that she would feel caged, but I could not release her. I seemed to have wanted all of the atoms in her body to fuse with mine as I pressed her back, my hands sliding up to the concave curve of her waist. It was without thinking about it that I hoisted her up.

I brought her back against the door and she gasped, her legs wrapping around my hips tightly. For once, I just had to take what I wanted, so I did. Her hands threaded through my hair. It wasn't that I couldn't feel my body's reaction to hers. I knew that I was hard. I understood that my erection was pressing into the junction of her legs. I just didn't actively think about it. She moaned into my mouth and I felt weak with want to have her make that noise again. My lips left hers and trailed down to her chin where my mouth opened and I tasted her skin. Further down, I left a trail of wet kisses and licks on her throat until I moved my mouth to just under her ear. She seemed to like that. Her arms and legs tightened around me. I leaned into her. Her nails gently scraped at my scalp. She gasped as loud knocking on the other side of the door broke through the electric sizzle between us. I pulled away, breathing hard. "No, don't," she whispered, her hands desperately clutching me to keep me close. "Please, don't stop." On the other side of the door, Alice spoke. "Emmett wants to know if Bella's cooking tonight. He said" I stopped listening as Bella's mouth sucked at my earlobe. Dear God, help me. Hadn't I told Alice to go away just a few minutes ago? Why was she back knocking at my door? Bella wasn't here to cook anything for Emmett, and Alice's constant interruptions were upsetting. Her hips bucked, causing her heat to run the length of me. My breath caught for a moment and I couldn't think straight. "Tell her to go away," she whispered into my ear before she went back to sucking on my lobe. My hips pressed harder into her and my eyes nearly crossed at the sensation of it all. Alice was still talking, calling my name and asking me if I'd heard her. "G-gggggo away, Aliiiice." "But Edward" I pulled my head away from Bella, and my voice was loud as I said again, "Go away." Bella's nails dug into my shoulders. The slight pain forced me to look at her and I was glad that I did. Her sexy lips were curved up. Then her breath hit my cheek and I could no longer even hear Alice on the other side of the door. "So fucking sexy," Bella said, her voice breathy and barely there. Her neck was so beautiful. I brought my mouth back to taste it again. One of her hands snaked down between our bodies and pressed against my erection as it strained against my jeans. I sucked in a large amount of air and pulled away and I moved back until she was forced to stand. I grasped her wrist and pulled her hand away from my groin. My eyes were still locked with hers. It wasn't difficult to read her confusion. She really shouldn't have been confused. No miracle had taken place in between the last time this happened and now.

While still holding her wrist, I kissed her again, no less passionate than before, but I'd made it clear that she couldn't touch me like that if she wanted me to kiss her like this for long. We stayed like that for awhile and although my neck and shoulders felt tense at having to hunch over, I felt like I could have stayed like this forever. To my surprise, she was the one who pulled back. She was slightly breathless as her tongue darted out over her lips. I tried to figure out what she was thinking. I wished I could see into her mind and just know. She was like a Russian novel; every page was intimidating but I knew if I just read with care, I could figure it all out. All it took was attention to detail and a little effort. With both my hands in hers, she moved us back over to my bed. We sat and she pushed at me gently until my back was against the headboard. She moved to sit facing me, her legs over mine. I should have been nervous because of our position. Bella had a habit of taking things a little too far, a little too quickly. But for whatever reason, I wasn't anxious. My eyes were fixed on hers. She didn't say anything for a long time. We just looked at each other and unlike other times, her eyes didn't dance around my face. This time, her eyes were locked on mine. "Why do you always save me, Edward?" I wasn't prepared for her question. Not only had we been silent for a long time, but I thought it was fairly obvious why I did anything in regards to Bella. "B-because sssometimes you need sssaving." Her body moved, inching just slightly closer to mine. She was between my legs, with her thighs now resting atop mine. She licked her lips and after a moment, she looked like she was going to say something, but then came another annoying knock. I loved Alice, but I was ready to yell at her. Bella sighed, but it wasn't Alice's voice I heard, it was Emmett's. "Bella, your dad's on the phone. He wants to know when you're coming home." I watched Bella take in a deep breath, her eyes still stuck on mine. "Tell him to fuck off." Emmett was silent and while Bella shouldn't have said that, I couldn't help but smile just a little. "You're g-going to g-get in trouble, B-Bella." She pressed closer to me until she was straddling me, her head pressed against my chest. "Totally worth it." While I was incredibly happy that she was willing to get in trouble for me, I would've rather her not take the risk. "B-but he can m-make it sssso I c-can't ssssee you anymore." "No. He can't tell me shit like that, Edward. Even if he did, I'd tell him to fuck off." "But he's your d-d-d-d" I sighed as I trailed off, "your fffather." "He's not going to tell me that I can't see youespecially just because I told him to fuck off."

"W-why are you so mmad at him?" Bella moved away, but she didn't leave me entirely. She sat cross-legged now between my legs and leaned back on her arms. "I don't know." She looked incredibly sad. I wanted to change her expression. I wanted her to look happy like she had in that bookstore. "Our p-p-p-presentation is Thursday." "We're skipping, right?" I returned her smile and nodded. I knew that Bella would have to go home soon. Her father seemed to be keeping better track of her. I approved of it, even if it meant that she couldn't stay here all night. Even though I wanted to keep talking to her, I found that nothing came easy and so we were silent again. She moved so that her head was on my chest. My body had managed to calm itself down relatively quickly from the stimulation of kissing her. I was thankful for that. I was also thankful that Bella hadn't pushed my physical boundaries to their very limits like she usually did. Her hair smelled nice and her body was warm on mine. I wished that I could have kept her here with me all night. She would be safer here. Not that Chief Swan didn't provide a safe home, but I liked taking care of her. "Can I see your back?" At first I thought I'd imagined those words. They were quiet and completely outside of any thoughts I'd been having, but when Bella shifted in my arms, I realized that she had, in fact, said them.. My body tensed despite Bella's hands in my hair. I shook my head in answer. Her hands left my hair and she pulled away from me. "Please?" "W-w-why?" I saw no reason why anyone should want to see my back. I saw no reason why I would want to show it to her again. "Because I want to see." I shook my head again and drew up my legs, essentially blocking my body from her. "W-w-w-why?" "Because you know about my fork scar and I let you touch my face sometimes and I want to see what your dad did to you." I shook my head once more and tried to talk. I wanted to tell her that she'd already seen it and nothing had changed, but the words wouldn't come. "I know you haveissues, or whatever, when it comes to, you know, sex or whatever. I promise I won'tI mean, I'll behave. I just want to see." Although I wanted to be upset or embarrassed or something about how she recognized I had 'issues,'I

felt like my mind was trying to run through mud. It wouldn't go like I wanted it to. It couldn't seem to get past the question. "B-b-but w-w-why?" It took her a moment to respond. "Because what he did is a part of you, like all your random bible stuff and I" she paused and I looked up. She wasn't looking at me now and it looked like sh e was about to cry. "I like you, Edward." Her voice was very soft at the end and I hated the fear that I heard, as if I would tell her that I didn't like her or that she was stupid for liking me. I hated that look of worry and hurt on her face, so I took a deep breath and moved my hands to the bottom of my shirt. I tried not to think of anything at all when I tugged it over my head. My eyes were closed. I felt a finger run down the length of the scar on my collarbone. "Renee broke my collarbone." Again, her voice was, so soft that I thought perhaps I'd imagined it. "Hhhhhhow?" "She kind ofjust pushed me down the stairs." I hated her mother. "W-w-why?" I heard her sigh. "I don't know. She was just mean, I guess." "W-w-was she mmmad at you for sssssomething?" "She was always mad at me for something." Bella paused. "Can I see your back now?" Another deep breath. I forced my body to comply. My eyes opened. Bella was beautiful. "I d-don't w-w-want to." Her eyes were still glassy and I wondered if the threat of tears was for her or me. "You don't have to." I concentrated on regulating my pulse and breathing. Bella always gave me a way out, a way to not comply. She never took any outs for herself though. She revealed pretty much everything I asked her to. I turned to the side, my arms wrapping around my legs as I laid my head on the tops of my knees. She was quiet for a while. My body stiffened further as I felt her feather-light touch. I hated that she was looking at my scars. I hated that she was seeing the depths of my wickedness. I fought hard against the urge to either cry or panic. I kept reminding myself that I had seen Bella's scars and that she had revealed way more about herself that I had to her. At some point, she put both of her hands flat against my skin and dragged them down. After that, she moved to sit behind me and I felt her arms snake around me as she pressed herself into my back.

Her breath was warm and moist as she pressed her lips against my spine. I bit the inside of my cheek. "Your dad was stupid. Mean and evil and wrong." Even though I didn't want to, my head shook, denying her words. "How could something so beautiful be wicked, Edward?" Several passages of Scripture flooded my mind in answer, but I swallowed them back down. I wanted to tell her that I needed to put my shirt back on, and that she'd seen enough. I wanted to make her stop looking at my twisted scars on my broken body. I wanted to ask her to stay with me for just a little longer. I wanted to tell her that I loved her. The only thing that came out was, "B-B-B-Belllllllla." She moved again. I finally found the energy to crane my neck to see her. She had risen up on her knees and was pressing her lips into my naked shoulder. "Mmmm," her voice vibrated through my body. "I love it when you say my name. Say it again." "B-B-Bellllla." "Mmmm." I could feel her smile against my skin. "Again." I loved when she smiled, so I complied. "B-B-B-Bella." "What?" she whispered as if she didn't hear me. "Again." "BBBBBB" She shook her head and then shifted around so that she was sitting in front of me on her knees. "No, just relax. Breathe, relax, and say my name." I knew what my face would look like if I saw it in the mirror. It would look like a wounded dog because that's how I felt. I wanted so badly to say her name and not mess it up. She deserved to have her name sung like a hymn of praise, not butchered like a scavenged carcass. "B-Bella." "Say it again," she whispered. "Belllllla." "Again." "Bella." "Fuck, yes! That's so fucking sexy, Edward." I couldn't keep the smile from forming. I looked at her and saw she was smiling too, as her eyes twinkled. I wanted to say her name again, but I could already tell that a block had been formed. I would need to practice. "Okay, now say damn."

I sighed. "D-d-damn. P-p-please d-don't make me r-repeat it." Her smile grew. "How about hell?" I took a deep breath. "Hhhhhhhhell." "Shit?" "Shhhhhhh" I stopped and then tried again with no better results. She shivered, looked down and then shook her head. "Okay, not shit. Say fuck." My breath shook, but I gave it a try. I would do anything for Bella. "F-f-ffffuck." You would have thought that she'd won the lottery with all the happiness she wore. If all I had to do was cuss a little to make her this happy, I would gladly say any word at any time. "Damn, that is fucking sexy as hell, baby." Another knock sounded and while Bella nearly growled, I took the opportunity to pull my shirt back on. Truth be told, I was thankful for the break. This time, instead of answering verbally, I went to the door and opened it. Carlisle was there. He looked at me for just a moment before turning his eyes to Bella. "Your father would like to talk to you. Alice has expressed an interest in you spending the night. If your father agrees, you are more than welcome to stay." Bella looked like I felt at the good news. She could say that she was staying the guest room, but I knew that she'd be with me all night. I hoped that Chief Swan would allow her to stay. Finally having a good reason, we left my room so Bella could talk with her father. I didn't stay to listen since Bella was always a bit awkward when speaking with him. Afterward, she found me in the kitchen, watching Esme cook. I didn't know what she was cooking, but she wasn't nearly as efficient as Bella in the kitchen. Alice appeared to be watching too, with Jasper reading a book next to her, but in reality, she watched me. When Bella entered the room, she watched me and Bella. I did my best to ignore her. If I had wanted to waste my energy, I would have been upset by her fascination with us. We ate silently and to my surprise, Bella didn't say anything negative about Esme's cooking. In fact, she mumbled something under her breath that sound like, "it's okay," which from Bella was a fairly big compliment. We were the first to finish and then headed back upstairs. I was so happy to have her for the rest of the evening. Even though we'd spent time just an hour ago focused on the welts and scars on my back, I felt lighter. She had shown me real affection and real comfort. Before we could close off the rest of the world by shutting my bedroom door, Alice stopped us in the hall. She looked a little nervous and upon closer inspection, a tiny bit upset. "I thought Bella and I could hang out for a bit." While it seemed logical that they might spend some time together since Alice was the one who invited

her to stay the night, I couldn't help the bubble of jealous anxiety that swelled in my chest. I didn't want Bella to be in my house and not be with me. "I want to hang out with Edward." "But" Alice began. I cut her off before she could say much more. "J-J-Jasper's hhhhere." Alice gave me a small, almost sarcastic smile. "I know." "Hhhhhhhang out w-w-w-with hhhhim." I didn't see why tonight had to be any different than every other night. Alice normally hung out exclusively with Jasper. Why she needed to spend time with Bella right now, I didn't understand. "Can't we all hang out together? Em and Rose want to play Wii." "There's o-only fffffour c-c-controllers, A-A-Aliiiice." She took a deep breath and folded her arms over her chest. Her glare simultaneously made me nervous and angry. Bella was my friend. She was my girlfriend and she was going to spend time with me and I wasn't going to share her. My hands curled as my brow creased. My lips were pressed together tightly. I felt Bella's hand brush against one of mine and slowly she coaxed my fingers to loosen. "Can we hang out tomorrow morning? I'll have all day. Edward and I werein the middle of, you knowstuff." My adopted sister looked between me and Bella several times before nibbling her lower lip and nodding. While I was happy that Bella had diverted what felt like an explosion waiting to happen, I wasn't entirely happy with knowing she was going to spend tomorrow with Alice and not me. Alice's dropped to her side as she smiled at Bella. She wouldn't look at me, which was just as well considering that I was uninterested in expressing anything else to her tonight. Once she left and Bella and I were locked into my bedroom, I put on some music. "Why do you listen to this? I mean, old people listen to this." "B-B-B-Beethoven is i-i-im" I sighed at my inability to explain. But any self-loathing that was going to fill my mind stopped instantly when I turned at the sound of her voice. "Don't freak out, okay?" My body froze and although it was racing, I felt like my mind was stuck in quicksand. Bella stood before me without her shirt on. "It's not about sex, so don't panic." I hated that she already knew I would panic. I was sure that Jacob Black and Tyler Crowley did not panic at the sight of a beautiful girl in a blue bra. Dear God, her bra was blue. How was I supposed to be a gentleman and have right thoughts and right

desires when she stood there in a blue bra? My favorite color was covering her beautiful breasts and I couldn't help but think the wrong thoughts. I was terrified. I managed to not only breathe, but also remain upright as she moved toward me. She took my hand and that was when my breath caught. She placed it on her collarbone and ran it from the middle out. I could breathe again. She was showing me her broken bone. She was showing me the left-over physical reminder of being pushed down the stairs by her mother. It wasn't about sex. I felt my heart, my lungs, and my mind return to normal functioning. "She didn't leave a lot of scars, not like your dad, mostly just broke a lot of bones." I swallowed hard as I looked down at her body. She was so beautiful. That color blue looked excellent against her skin. I forced myself to focus on a scar that curved around her ribcage. "W-w-what's that one ffffrom?" My finger skimmed the raised flesh. Bella moved closer to me until she was in my arms. "The coffee table." "W-why was ssshe so mean?" Bella's body pressed into mine as her arms moved around my back. "I don't know, Edward," she said as if she were bored. "You've asked me that before. It's not like she went to a psychologist for a diagnosis or anything. Bitch was just mean." My hands moved up her back and drew her hair over one of her shoulders. I could see a few more tiny scars on her back as I peered over her shoulder, but nothing like what I had. She pulled back and raised her hand between us. "She broke my arm when I was eight. She slammed a door on it, but I think it was an accident." I doubted very much that her mother ever hurt her by accident. "D-did you go to a d-doctor?" Bella moved back to me and shook her head. "Bones heal just fine without doctors. The trick is just to not use it for a while." "D-didn't your teachers ssssssss, kn-know that your arm was b-b-broken?" "Didn't your teachers realize that your back was constantly bloody?" I understood what she was saying. There were various techniques that could be employed to avoid anyone knowing about your wounds and through observation I came to realize that most people didn't care enough to look deeper. Most people didn't want to see what was beneath the picture they were presented and of those who did, very few found the nerve to confront it. Suddenly I didn't want to see anymore scars or feel anymore broken bones. I didn't want to think about Bella's mother hurting her for no discernable reason. I didn't understand why someone would hurt her daughter like that. There was so much about Bella and her mother that I didn't understand, but I supposed she didn't understand my father either.

I wanted to be normal with Bella. I wanted to do whatever it was other people did with their girlfriends. It wasn't normal to be exchanging scars like this. It wasn't that I wanted to ignore that her bones had been snapped and my skin had been torn, but I didn't think there were many people who stood around on a Saturday night cataloging the bent and broken bits of another person. I could feel her breasts pressed against my torso. Of course, my body reacted. I took a deep breath because the way I reacted would affect Bella. I knew she didn't understand the panic I felt at something she felt so casual about. I didn't want this to be one more time I let all of my fears govern me. Bella liked strength and I wanted to be strong. I moved us toward the bed. I didn't want her to take it the wrong way because her idea and my idea of 'too-far' were not the same. I was going to push myself by not having a panic attack, but I hoped that she would push herself by not pushing me too much. She obviously knew that I had some very limiting physical boundaries and I could tell that she was at least attempting to control herself. I kept practicing speech with Ms. Rice in hopes of one day having a regular conversation with her; so in the hope that I could have a normal physical relationship with Bella, I would push myself to grow comfortable with it. The backs of my legs hit the mattress and I sat down. My hands rested on her hips and I looked up at her. Her breasts were at eye-level. The breath I let out was stunted. There was no denying that I wanted Bella Swan in all the ways I could have her. If I wanted to ever have her, I knew that I would have to push myself. Even if I broke as I did so, I believed whole-heartedly that together Bella and I could rebuild me into something better. She leaned down and her hands gripped the bottom of my shirt. My hands moved automatically from her hips to her wrists and I stopped her movements before she could really pull at my shirt. I looked into her eyes and they warmed me even though my body was frozen. "It's not about sex, Edward," she whispered. "Please?" My fingers loosened around and I allowed her to pull my shirt up and off. As she let my t-shirt fall to the floor, I scooted back on my bed. She crawled up between my legs. My heart was racing and I wanted to see if it was truly not about sex like she said. She smiled at me. I took a deep breath. She turned around and pressed her nearly-naked back against my chest. Her deep breaths matched my own as she took my arms and wrapped them around her torso. I had no idea that skin-to-skin contact could feel this amazing. Bella's hair tickled my chin. I let my eyes close as I lost myself in the feel of her. It was like she was charging me, like being plugged into an electrical socket. She gave me energy and life and was everything that I wanted. One of my hands was spread across her stomach. Part of me recognized that Bella was too thin. She

needed to eat. While she cooked all the time, she did not eat a lot. I also suspected that she got physically sick quite often. I didn't think she had strange body image issues like Angela Weber, but Bella's body was clearly not getting all the nutrition it needed. Another part of me didn't want to focus on observations like that. It just wanted to recognize that Bella was in my arms and half-naked. That part of me wanted to take full advantage of being on my bed behind a closed and locked door with a girl I liked. This part of my body didn't care that I might not physically be able to do it; it wanted to at least try. I wanted to be the person who at least tried. She smelled so good. I gently tightened my hold on her. I slid my hand just slightly, reveling in the feel of her soft skin beneath it. God, I loved the feel of her. Bella arched her back against me, just a fraction, but her movement allowed my hand to curve around her rib. I felt a tiny bump there and I wondered if it was another healed-but-never-set bone. My thumb was just brushing the cup of her bra. I could feel the cool satin against the tip of it. Even more blood and heat rushed to my groin. I knew she could feel it against her, but she remained fairly still. I didn't know what would be better, keeping my eyes closed and allowing my imagination to supply the visuals, or to actually open them and see her body against mine. I compromised and only opened one eye. I was thankful that she couldn't see me. I was sure I looked petrified and ridiculous. One of my hands still covered her stomach, my small finger resting on top of her jeans while the thumb dipped into her bellybutton. My other hand was still just under her breastuntil I moved it. With one small motion, my palm was over it. I could feel the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her blue bra. I felt her nipple harden under my hand at the same time I felt even more blood flow to my groin. Bella arched again, driving her breast and stiff nipple harder against my palm while relieving some of the friction against my erection. Her breathing was quicker than usual. It almost matched my own pace. Now my hand was on her breast, but I had no idea what I should do next. I worried about doing something that would push me over the edge and send me into full panic mode. Nothing would impress her more than to see me seizing next to her, desperate for air, all because I touched her. I nearly rolled my eyes at my own sarcastic thoughts. I felt awkward and weird. I felt like I was the last person Bella should or would want. I wasn't confident, even when I was trying to be. Self-doubt flooded me. Even though I had done what I had with Jessica, I hadn't thought it was all that great for her even though Bella told me she'd said otherwise, so how was I supposed to live up to Bella's expectations? Although I didn't like to think about it, I realized that Bella had more experience with sex than most girls her age. She probably had more experience with sex than women twice her age. While I didn't judge her, it did frighten me because she knew what she wanted and she would probably realize that I couldn't give it to her.

She would see that she was wasting her time with me and while she wasn't cruel and wouldn't end all contact with me, she would decide that we were just friends. She would go back to sitting on my couch while I sat awkwardly on my bed. I would watch her find guys who could give her what she needed. Maybe that guy at her work with the blond hair and beard. She moved. She took her hand and swept her hair over to one side. Both of my eyes were open now. She tilted her head to one side, her index finger tapping against the raised marks of the fork. "Kiss this." Her voice was so soft and not demanding at all. My breath caught at the gentle command, but I forced myself to push through it. I sucked air in like I'd been deprived of oxygen for years and then pushed it out again. Lowering my head, I brought my lips down to brush against her neck. I couldn't see, but I hoped her eyes were closed. Her hands covered mine and for just a moment, she didn't breathe. At first, my lips just brushed against her neck, but then I felt compelled to taste her. My lips parted and my tongue swept out. The small bumps of her skin tickled the soft and sensitive flesh of my tongue. Bella's hands tightened subtly on mine, forcing a firmer hold on her breast. She liked her neck being kissed. I liked kissing her neck. The muscles in my arms coiled and tensed and I brought her body back against mine until my naked chest and her back were nearly fused together. Her body felt so wonderful. I was astonished that having another person so close could feel so amazing. I still felt awkward and nervous that I was so hard and I knew she knew it. I hated that she knew I had issues with all of this. I hated that she knew I wasn't normal. But I was hopeful because she hadn't run away yet. For now, Bella seemed okay with not addressing it too much. She wasn't mean, at least not to me, and I understood that even if her immediate action would hurt, her underlying intention wasn't to hurt me. I was breathing heavily, still trying to get used to how this felt, when she moved my hand down her stomach to her thigh. Again, I had to redirect everything inside of me to only focus on breathing; on controlling my body enough to not have a panic attack. If possible, she pressed closer to me and it made it even more difficult to breathe. It was suddenly becoming too much and while I didn't want to stop touching her, I needed her body to not be pressed to mine. I needed time for my body to relax, but I couldn't seem to loosen my hold on her. Once again, Bella moved, twisting in my arms. Her knees were on either side of my hips, her blue,

satin-covered breasts were crushed against my chest and the heat of our bodies saturated down all our layers of clothing. This new position did not help anything. My arms tightened and I let my head fall forward until my forehead rested against her shoulder. One of her hands tangled in my hair while the other skimmed across the upper portion of my back. The feel of it was strange since I'd never allowed anyone to touch me like that. Even when they took me from my father's house, I had to be sedated to allow the doctors and social workers to see. "B-B-B-Bellllla," I drew out her name, wanting to let her know that I needed physical space before I had any kind of crazy reaction. Somehow, with just that one word, she did know. She moved back. Her hands remained in my hair, but her body was no longer on mine. "Do you have something I can sleep in?" I swallowed hard and nodded. Before I knew it, Bella was off the bed. "You know I'm sleeping in here, right? Not with Alice or in the guest room." I nodded. "Can you get me clothes now?" I looked up at her and saw that she was staring at me expectantly. While I could probably physically get her something, I was worried that my erection would become a focal point. I shook my head, hating how stupid and inadequate I felt. Bella sighed, ran her hands through her hair and then asked, "Can I get them myself? I'm going to go brush my teeth." I pointed to the closet. She moved quickly, coming back with black pajama pants and a gray t-shirt. It seemed like she was as nervous as I felt. She chucked a thumb at the door and shrugged. "So I'm going toyou know." I nodded, still unable to trust myself enough to use my voice. "Okay, so, um, I'll see you in a minute?" Again, all I did was nod. She was gone for a while, which was a good thing because it gave me the opportunity to get my body under control. When she came back, she rolled her eyes and pointed down to her toes. "Alice fucking attacked me. Look at this shit." My eyes travelled down her legs, covered by my black pants that were incredibly too large for her. Her toe nails were painted pink and I couldn't help but smile. "Shut up," she said with a smile. She threw down the clothes she'd been holding and crawled into bed

with me. "What are you reading?" I put the book down on my lap so that she could see the cover, just in case my mouth couldn't transfer the information. "A b-b-b-b" I stopped and sucked in a desperate breath of air. I'd hope speaking would have been slightly easier at this point in our relationship, but I still felt like I had to work really hard at it. It had gotten easier before she was my girlfriend, but now I was in constant worry of doing something wrong and making her stop liking me. I watched her face, but her eyes never left mine. She wasn't going to read the title and let me off the hook. "A b-b-b-biography ab-b-bout B-B-B" "B's are bugging you today." My whole body tensed that she made a direct comment about my stuttering, but what she said wasn't untrue, so I shrugged, hoping to get rid of some of my tension. "Just a couple of hours ago, you said my name without tripping up, so who is the book about?" "B-B-Beethoven." "Who?" I sighed. She knew who Beethoven was, but she wanted me to repeat his name. "B-B-Beethoven." "What?" "B-Bella," I whined. "No, not 'Bella.' Pretty sure I haven't composed anything close to musical masterpieces, so who is it that you're reading about?" "B-Beethoven." "Beethoven?" "Y-yes. Beethoven." Bella smiled widely at me and then took my head in her hands. "So fucking sexy." ...

Chapter 46: Flying Horses Edward

"Oh, fuck, baby. You are so fucking hot." Bella not only swore a lot when we were like this, but she had taken to calling me 'baby.' A part of me liked the term of endearment, because I hadn't had one since my mother called me 'Eddie-Bear,' but the other part of me cringed. My name was Edward and I wanted to be sure that she knew I wasn't just some guy doing these things with her. I wanted to know without a doubt that she was thinking about me as it all happened. It was incredibly flattering for her to say I was hot and for those beautiful noises escaping her mouth to be caused by my manipulations of her body. Not that I was doing much to manipulate it. She was handling most of it on her own. I still didn't believe her words or her body's response. "Oh, fuck," she said again in the breathiest voice I'd ever heard. My erection throbbed as more blood was directed to it. I used that as a key indicator that it was time for us to stop. I pulled away, but her hands kept me close, her body arching to try to keep contact with mine. "Oh, no, Edward, don't, please? Please? Please don't stop." It had been several weeks since she first saw my back and we'd held each other, skin-on-skin. I was still pushing myself to go just a little further than before and Bella enjoyed closeness like this, but it always ended the same, with me feeling like I'd disappointed her even though she insisted I hadn't. Mainly we would just kiss, but I found that I really liked touching her. I didn't think it could be considered erotic, but she seemed to like it too. My hands concentrated on the upper half of her body and as I got used to feeling her skin against my palm and fingertips, my mouth became comfortable with hers, finding other small areas of her neck. If her moans were any indication, she really liked it. Bella would always convince me to take my shirt off, even when I didn't want to. She was an incredibly persuasive person and could probably talk me into just about anything. She didn't touch me a lot since it was uncomfortable for me. I was happy to divert her attention by focusing on her. At first she had tried to touch me a lot, and not just in her overtly sexual way. When she kept running her hands down my back as we kissed, my body always contorted and arched. It was an involuntary movement because intellectually I knew that she had already felt my scars, but my body nearly always reacted the same way. She stopped doing that it when she realized that it took my attention off of her body and put it onto mine. I liked kissing Bella. She always tasted good and the feel of her against me was incredible. I no longer trembled with panic when I touched her breasts, which were always covered by the cups of her bra. The noises she made spurred me on. They sounded like music. I would happily listen to her make those sounds for the rest of my life. Bella had gone from being aggressive to allowing me to have more control. She almost never sat on me anymore and when she did, it never felt like her intentions were sexual. Instead, she would lie back and let me go at whatever pace I could handle, which was usually turtle-slow. As long as I didn't touch her face, she seemed perfectly content with this set-up.

Well, not perfectly content. It wasn't hard to tell that when I ended it, she always wanted more, but I knew she was at least trying to control her reaction and hide her frustrations. Today I pulled away, not only because the sensations and desires were becoming too much, but also because it was Thanksgiving and Bella had taken on the responsibility of cooking for almost half of the population of Forks. Okay, that was an exaggeration. She was cooking for everyone she normally did when she came over; meaning us and the Hales, but her father usually shared the holiday with his girlfriend, Leah and Seth Clearwater's mother. He'd wanted Bella to go to their house with him, but she refused. She was quite stubborn, and after a week of hearing about how much she hated her father, Esme must have come up with a solution. After a session with both of them, Bella rolled her eyes and told me she'd agreed to the Clearwaters and Chief Swan having Thanksgiving dinner with us. Bella said she was okay with it, but Mrs. Clearwater would be cooking with Bella and that bothered her. So it was with this in mind that I removed myself from my bed and pulled my shirt back on. I watched Bella sit up as I leaned back against my computer desk. One of her hands slid down from her neck, between her breasts and stopped at her stomach as the other rubbed her eyes and then ran through her beautiful brown hair. She licked her lips and trained her eyes on me. "Can we just" and then she just shook her head and then swung her feet over the side of the bed, bending down to retrieve her shirt. I should've gotten it for her. "I'm sssssorry, B-B-Bella." Her brow creased and her movements stopped. "What?" she asked in a way that made me know exactly what she was thinking. I took a deep breath and felt my eyes slip closed for just a moment. My lips pressed together as I mentally charged myself up. "Bella." When my eyes opened, she was smiling, happy as always when I could produce her name using only two syllables. She tugged her shirt back on and stood up, moving toward me. My body was tight and tense as always after testing both my physical and mental boundaries, so I hoped that she wouldn't try to push either one too much further. She gently came into my arms, pressing her face into my chest as her arms wrapped around my waist. When she pulled away, she said, "Don't be sorry, Edward. That shit'sfucking good." She removed herself from my embrace and licked her lips as she moved to my bookcase. "Anticipation's likeum, exciting or whatever." As intelligent as I knew her to be, and how verbal she always was, Bella was not very good at giving

voice to her emotional thoughts or feelings. She was awkward and used the term 'whatever' a lot. But her words and their meaning were not lost. As much as I could've let myself focus on my failures, her words gave me hope that she was able to live with the small pieces I could give her. I wanted to touch her face, to have my thumb brush the thin skin underneath her eye, but she never reacted well to that. I went to her and took one of her hands in mine. Even though I was incredibly hard, almost to the point of pain, I wanted to be next to her. Instead of touching her cheek, my other hand moved to her neck and I satisfied myself with brushing my thumb over the top of her scar. "W-what's left to do?" Bella blinked. "What?" "With the ffffood." Her lips formed a tight line as her brow furrowed, and then her eyes shimmered with tears as she shook her head. Bella cried much more now than she used to. I didn't know if it was the stress of the holidays or something else, since she usually wouldn't share it with me. "What's w-wrong?" I felt anxious about her emotions. "Bella?" I asked again when she didn't respond. She shook her head again. "I should've just let Sue do it all. What the fuck do I know about making Thanksgiving dinner?" "She said she was o-only hhhhelping," I tried to remind her. "Whatever." "Y-you don't have to c-cook at all," I offered, not knowing what she was thinking or what she wanted. Mrs. Clearwater could orchestrate the whole dinner herself, I was sure. But saying that wasn't at all what Bella wanted to hear because she sighed, ran a hand down her face, and shook her head like she was upset. "You don't llllliiike her?" She shrugged and then moved away from me and toward the door. "Whatever." I knew that her father had invited the Clearwaters over for dinner last week, but Bella never said how it turned out. "I'm going to check the stupid turkey," she said as she opened the door and moved through it. Like always, I followed her and sat at the island watching her move through our kitchen with purpose. Sue was there too. Again, it was odd watching Bella interact with such a maternal woman. Bella was like she was with most emotional interactions. She was awkward. Sue would move and Bella would answer with a corresponding movement in the other direction. She didn't speak unless Sue asked her something directly and even then it was usually a monosyllabic reply. When Mrs. Clearwater pulled the sweet potatoes out of the oven, Bella watched her every move with a

frown on her face, but she never said anything. Half-way through this awkward dance, Chief Swan came into the kitchen. He sat down at the bar and watched with me, a comfortable distance between us. All his presence did was put Bella even more on edge. Had I been a good boyfriend, I would have distracted her father for a while so she could cook in peace, or relative peace, but my verbal ineptitude kept me from even attempting it. The whole day was just strange. Before the food was ready, everything had to sit for a while. I didn't understand it, but Bella and Sue seemed to know what they were doing, so while everyone waited for the food to be ready to eat, we all did various activities. Emmett, Seth Clearwater , and Bella's father threw a football around the front yard. No one wore coats, even though it was fairly cold out. Jasper, Rosalie and Alice all played a loud card game while Leah sat by herself staring at her cell phone as she rapidly pushed buttons. Carlisle and Esme drank coffee and watched the card game. Sue was at the window watching the tossing of the football. I stood by Bella who watched the football game through the open front door. Chief Swan and Emmett seemed to be having a great time and when Seth got upset because he didn't catch a ball Emmett threw at him, Bella's father was quick to buoy him up. She turned away and I followed her to the kitchen. When she finally stopped moving and leaned against the countertop, I touched her scar again. "Y-y-you're sad." She ducked her head and took a deep breath before releasing it slowly. "I can't help it." "Wwwwhat's making you sad?" If I knew, I could help fix it for her. Bella shrugged. "Are you sad b-because of y-your d-d-d-d, ffffather and SSSSSeth?" "Holidays are stupid." I nodded at the simple truth of her words. "I kn-know." "Why don't you like Christmas, Edward?" I took in a deep breath, but before I could actively keep my mind from thinking about it, Mrs. Clearwater stepped in and saved me from it all. It was time to eat. Dinner was delicious, as Bella's meals always were. I didn't follow the conversation, but I did watch everyone. Rosalie and Emmett were still sharing their secret smiles, Leah didn't engage and Seth kept trying to talk to me as if I could just respond to him like a normal person. Bella barely ate. She hardly put any food on her plate and when all was said and done, she'd eaten less than half of it. Upon observation, I knew that both her father and Esme noticed how little she ate, although they didn't comment on it. I saw Carlisle glance at her and then at the two of them at least once. I hoped

that one of them would ask her about why she wasn't eating much these days. She was off drugs, so it had to be something else. She didn't even pretend to be interested in dessert. We left the table and I was certain that at least two sets of eyes were on us. I hoped her father wouldn't get upset that she'd be in my room behind a locked door. The thought of him getting upset and knocking, or trying to open the door, made my chest tighten a little. Bella curled up on the couch when we entered my room. I locked the door and wondered what I was supposed to do. She was obviously not feeling well, but she chose the couch and not the bed. Had she been on the bed, I could have joined her; I could have wrapped myself around her and given her my energy. But she was on the couch, facing the back so I couldn't see her face. The couch was small and the only thing I would have been able to do was sit near her feet. I didn't want her to be sad. I wanted to see her smile and be happy. I wondered if I should put on music, but then I worried that I'd choose the wrong song and she would sink further into whatever she was feeling. After a few moments of standing awkwardly by my desk watching her, I glanced at the instruments on the wall. I'd been practicing something for her. She'd said she wanted to hear me play violin, so I learned how to play something I knew she would like. "B-Bella?" She rolled over while her hands wiped her eyes. She'd been crying and immediately my heart ached for her, even more than it normally did. She looked at me for a moment and then pressed her fingertips to her eyes, covering them from me. "I'm sorry, Edward." I wondered why she was sorry, but I knew that if I asked her she would either say she didn't know or just not tell me, so I pulled my violin off the wall. I didn't bother asking her if she wanted to hear me play, I just said, "This t-takes t-two violins and a c-c-cello, sssso you jjjust have to imagine the other p-parts." Then I started to play. I watched her carefully, hoping she'd liked it. I couldn't help but smile as she sat up and then rose to her knees as she listened to the familiar beginnings of the song. "Oh my god, Edward!" It took everything I had to continue playing and not react to her excitement. I was so incredibly happy that something I did made her mood shift completely. "That's the Red Hot Chili Peppers!" I nodded while continuing to play. "That's so fucking badass that you can play that song on the violin!"

I blushed and had to look away from her so I could keep time with the song. And just like that, Bella was happy again and I'd never been more grateful for my innate musical talent as I was in that moment. ... Bella fell asleep after I'd hung up my violin and we'd moved to the bed. From a distance, someone might have said she looked peaceful but since I was so very close to her, I could see that she was not. It was typical. Her legs twitched and her hands were curled into balls that turned her knuckles white and would release only after long minutes. While her lips were slightly parted, her brow was deeply creased. As was her usual, Bella talked in her sleep. It was only occasionally when she would look peaceful and said my name. I liked those times, but today wasn't one of them. Today she mumbled and bit her lip. She gasped and would say things like "no" and "don't." There would be these long, drawn out sounds that would escape her. They could have been innocent from another person, but coming from Bella, I knew that they weren't. At one point, both of her hands moved to clutch the neck of her shirt as she sucked in a stunted breath. She sounded like she was dying and I wanted to wake her. But she was always so tired and I knew that after whatever horrible thing was happening inside of her head finished, her body and mind would quiet and she would rest. She had to rest. I left the room only to go to the bathroom and hated that I had no key to lock the door from the outside. She would have been safer that way, but I would only be gone for a moment. Voices from down the hall kept me from being quick. I heard her father and Esme and despite never having been nosey before in my life, I moved quietly towards the just-cracked open door near the stairs. "Wait a minute, Charlie. Listen to what you're asking. You want me to prescribe her drugs so she can mellow out her emotions? She's been doing that on her own for too long already. How exactly do you want her to 'mellow out'?" "Well, something has to be done. Neither of us can keep going like this. You saw her. The girl barely eats and when she does she typically throws it back up within an hour. She cries all the time. That's not an exaggeration, Esme. Two days ago she cried at breakfast, she was crying when I got home and before I went to sleep, I heard her crying in her room. That can't be healthy." Esme was quiet for a moment and I almost walked away, but then I heard, "Bella was raped, Charlie, multiple times." There was another pause. My teeth grit tightly, just as my hands balled into fists at my sides. "I'm sorry if that's hard for you to hear, but she was. Her mother did nothing about it. Mothers traditionally nurture, but your daughter received nothing like that growing up. She's pushed back all of her emotions to the point of not being able to feel anything." "I understand that." Chief Swan's voice was tight and I could tell he was upset. "But I don't think I can" "You'll have to. Bella's an incredibly strong young woman, but she needs this time to be weak. She needs to be able to be weak and still be okay." I heard Esme's sigh. "I'm not putting her on medication at this point, however I'm not ruling it out;

Bella needs to feel this. She's not even to the point where she can use the proper words for what happened." "So you're not going to give her anything?" "Not right now, no." "But you prescribe every other kid" "Charlie, let me be clear." I could hear the warning in her voice and it made me hold my breath for a moment. "Bella is not 'every other kid,' and you do not know what I prescribe to anyone else. Medication is not warranted for your daughter at this time. If I feel it becomes necessary, then I will give her something; however, what Bella needs is to actually deal with something for once in her life. She's been the walking dead for years and I will not take away her ability to feel again simply because it's messy and you can't handle it." "I'm not asking you to take away her ability to feel, for Christ's sake, but she's not going to be able to last for much longer. Physically, she's falling apart and emotionally" "She needs to break down. That's the whole point of her being in therapy. Just like the body, the mind can only grow stronger after having been at its weakest point." Bella's father said something else, but I couldn't focus on it. I practically jumped out of my skin when something warm encompassed my hand and began to uncurl it. I looked over and saw Bella next to me and I intentionally took a deep, calming breath. I hoped she hadn't heard all that, but I could see in her tired eyes that she'd heard enough. She tugged me away from the door and back into my room, and then waited until I sat down with my back against the headboard before joining me on my bed. Her eyes were closed before she settled in, her body on mine, her head pressed against my chest. I'd forgotten to use the bathroom, but I ignored everything else beyond the wonderful feel of her in my arms. ... The Monday after Thanksgiving I was woken as usual by Emmett's loud knocking that accompanied his equally loud voice. I also woke up to an erection caused by the dream I'd been having about having sex with Bella in my bed. She had been on top of me. My hands were on her hips and her mouth "Tick tock, Edward! Let's go or you'll be late picking up Bella." "I-I-I-I'm up! G-g-g-go aw-way." It was a stretch of long, painful moments until he complied. It was only after I was sure he was gone that I undertook the slightly frightening and definitely nerve-wracking task of masturbating. It was strange and awkward and wrong, but I couldn't go anywhere in this state. I especially couldn't go and pick up my girlfriend like this. I concentrated on breathing, rather than the action that had to happen if I was going to bring myself relief. I did my best to ignore my more-than-passing thoughts of the Bible because while I remembered what my father said about the act of masturbation and how according to Leviticus it

marked you as unclean, I'd re-read it for myself and interpreted it differently. I kept telling myself that it was okay to be doing this. I kept telling myself that I wasn't unclean; that this was natural and normal and that I was natural and normal. I failed at my attempt to keep Bella out of my thoughts. I didn't want to use her in that way since she already had issues with people using her as a sexual object. I wasn't good at this, but I needed my erection to go away. It was getting late and if it took much longer, I would be late picking up Bella. She would wait for me out on her porch, in the cold. We would have to walk into the school after everyone else. They would all look at us. After what seemed like hours, but was honestly just long minutes, it was over and I caught my breath. Despite having a different interpretation than my father, I felt soiled and unclean. It was just one more reason for God to hate me. On Wednesday in Biology, Mr. Banner started his lecture on human reproduction and I felt physically ill. If I asked Carlisle or Esme, they might be able to get me out of the rest of it, but Bella and I shared this class with Mike Newton. As much as I hated staring at the backside of his head every day, there was no earthly way I was going to leave him in the same room as Bella. For her part, she acted like he had never raped. I often wondered if she even thought he had. Her view of things was skewed and perhaps she thought that she'd simply made a mistake and had sex with him, as if she'd had a choice in the matter. But Bella didn't talk about it. Bella didn't look at Mike or even in his general direction. It was as if he wasn't even there. But I was fully aware that he was. I stared at him whenever he was around, trying to figure out why he was the way he was and trying contain all of the hate I felt for him. It was incredibly difficult finding compassion for him, even though I had been the one to break his jaw. Especially because I'd been the one who broke his jaw. He couldn't talk much since his jaw was wired shut. He drank his lunch through a straw and I often times found him looking at me. It was strange how I no longer feared him, but it was unsettling how much I wanted him to hurt more. Usually I paid attention to Bella to my fullest ability, but when Newton was around, my focus was almost solely on him. Visuals slid and slithered in my head and I found myself wanting to make him bleed again. I played out whole scenarios in my mind. So when Banner began talking about sex, as awkward as it was in a co-ed class, the only thing that calmed me, that kept me from panicking, was staring at Newton's stupid, spiky-haired head and visualizing various body parts being detached from his body in a variety of ways.

In the weeks that passed since Lauren's party, I had come to accept the that I wished violence on Mike. I fully realized that this was wrong and that just like my sexual thoughts about Bella, God would hate me for them. ... "So, Edward, are there certain emotions that are easier to express through music than through" I cut Dr. Eleazar off because I had grown tired of talking music with him. It wasn't as if he wanted to discuss musical theory with me, he was using it as a way to poke my mind; it was a way for him to figure me out and while I had no problem with it as it was his job, I was annoyed that he wouldn't just ask me a question like Esme would have. He always sat in the same chair and he never moved beyond crossing his legs or cocking his head to the side in thought. I was thankful for that. It made me less nervous. The consistency was soothing. "Ar-are you a-aw-ware that your llllllast n-name is B-B-B-biblical?" "Is it?" "Y-yes. Hhhhe w-w-was the sssson of A-Aaron. Hhhhe w-was the leader of the t-t-tribe of Levi. There w-w-were o-other 'E-El-Eleazars' t-too. I-I don't think it's p-pronounced the sssssame. I-it mmmm-means 'G-G-God has hhhhhelped.'" I glanced at him quickly. He looked thoughtful, his bottom lip jutting out a little. I thought perhaps he would go back to talking about music or maybe art, like he had the week before Thanksgiving, but he didn't. "Do you like reading the Bible or about God in general?" I shrugged my answer. It wasn't about liking or disliking it, I just knew it. "How many other Eleazars are there?" I counted for a quick moment in my head. "Sssseven, sssso eight t-total. One w-was d-d-directly related to J-Jesus." "There are no 'Edwards' in the Bible though, are there?" I swallowed hard at the implication. I didn't know if he meant to make it or not, but it was there. "N-n-no." "Do you want to talk about God?" I shook my head. "What would you like to talk about?" I wanted to say 'nothing,' because I didn't like talking and he was still someone who was only talking to me because Carlisle and Esme thought my mind wasn't right. I thought about the best thing I could and my mouth responded. "I-I hhhhave a g-girlfriend." Dr. Eleazar smiled. "What's she like?"

"P-p-pretty." "Most girlfriends are," he responded with a chuckle in his voice. I didn't want him to think that Bella was just beautiful. He needed to know how smart she was. "She's v-vvvery in-int-int-t-t-t" As I tried to push out the word, my hands curled into balls on my thighs and despite that I was alone in the room with him, my eyes pinched shut. No matter what I did, I couldn't get that word out, so I shifted and used another, "Smart." "What's the best thing about her?" There were so many good things about Bella. It was hard to pick one as the best. "She d-doesn't mmmmind that I ssssssound ssss-ssst-tupid w-when I t-t-talk." I shook my head. It was horrible to say that the best thing about her was that she accepted me. That made it sound like if any girl accepted my stutter, she would be as good or important as Bella. "What?" he asked, his head nodding slightly at in my direction. "That's n-not the b-b-b-best thing ab-b-bout her." He smiled, and the implied question hung in the air until I decided how to answer. "W-when she ssssmiles, i-it b-b-breaks and c-consumes me. W-when she c-cries, I-I-I ache and mourn ffffor hhher." "So you're a musician and a poet, it seems. If your girlfriend is what inspires emotion, she would be considered your muse." "I w-want to have ssssex with her," I blurted and could just barely contain the panic I felt when I realized that I had. I couldn't look at him. I felt incredibly sick to my stomach and I wanted to launch myself up and out of this room, but my body held firm to the chair. "But?" My muscles were frozen, just like my mind, but my mouth spoke. "But ssssssomeone hhhurt hhher." "And?" It wasn't as if he was saying that her pain shouldn't have been a factor. He was trying to draw something out of me. "What else is holding you back?" I knew he knew. He probably knew more about me than I would have ever wanted him to, but just like Esme, he would make me say everything I didn't want to say. I let out a shaky breath and looked at my white knuckles against the tightly woven fabric of my jeans. My thoughts turned to what I would probably never be able to say out loud. Someone had hurt me too. ... Saturday morning passed slowly. Like most Saturdays, I waited around for Bella to get off work. I did what I normally did, which was to play and listen to music, finish homework and read. I hadn't wanted to use the keyboard in my room. Since my fingers were feeling better, I wanted to use

the grand piano downstairs. It helped that I'd been playing down there for Bella. I was growing used to it. One problem with playing the grand was that there was no barrier between me and everyone else in the house. I liked Alice and I enjoyed her company most days, but today I just wanted to play music and not get bothered. It was my desire to be left alone that made me less than thrilled when she took a seat on the chaise lounge. "What are you planning to do today?" My fingers kept going. "B-B-Bella's c-c-coming over." She sighed and the way she did it caused me to stop playing. I turned and gave her my full attention, even if I didn't want to. "W-w-what?" "All you ever do anymore is hang out with Bella." Instantly I had to fight back my anger. I'd never been angry with Alice like this before. It felt strange and scary to be this upset with her. "Y-you hhhhang out w-with JJJJJJasper." "Yeah, but it's not always only us. We still hang out with other people, Edward. Don't you think you guys should branch out, expand your group of friends beyond the two of you?" No. No, I did not think I needed to do that. There was no reason to be involved with other people when all they did was judge me and make me nervous. "N-no. N-no one else underst-st-stands." A look of hurt passed over her features and instantly I realized that she would take issue with it. "I understand you, Edward." "That's n-not w-what I meant." I could tell this wasn't going to end well. She had already taken offense to my simple statement, and experience told me that once she felt wounded, there was no turning back. "Well, what did you mean then?" I shook my head. "I w-w-w-want t-t-to hhhhhhang out w-w-with B-B-Bella." The set of Alice's jaw and the sharp glare of her eyes made me nervous. My hands curled again and I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The instantaneous anger of just a moment ago morphed into something akin to fear. Alice didn't like me spending so much time with Bella. She was one of the very few people I trusted and she was giving me her angry face. I didn't want her to be angry with me or upset with me, but I wanted to spend time with Bella. "D-d-don't you liiiike B-B-Bella?" "I like her just fine, but you can't spend all your time with just one person. It's not healthy." I moved off of the piano bench and away from the corner of the room, needing to put some distance between her and me. "N-n-not hhhhhealthy?" Was it 'healthier' to spend all my time alone like I used to? Was it 'healthier' to hate all or most human

contact? Wasn't it better that I was at least spending time with someone I felt comfortable with? Even before Bella, I never spent that much time with Alice. She was right if she was implying that I was spending less time with her, but it wasn't like I'd hung out with Alice more than once a week anyway. "She's got issues. You know that right?" Of course I knew she had 'issues,' but so did everyone else I knew. I turned and saw that she'd shifted her body to look directly at me. I wanted to escape her gaze. "W-w-what d-d-do you kn-know ab-b-bout B-Bella?" Alice stood up and I took a step back towards the door. The fear was gone and I was back to being angry. "She's not exactly" When she didn't continue, I should have turned around and left the room, but I didn't. I just stood there, waiting for her to say something. "She's not the type of person who can be a great friend." I wished I didn't stutter. I would have let her know that her opinion was not only wrong but also unjust since Alice didn't spend nearly as much time with Bella as I did. She could be a really good friend. She was my best friend and she knew more about me than anyone else did. "Look, Rose and Em and Jas and I are going to go see a movie. Why don't you guys come with us? You'll still be hanging out with her but also with us. It'll be good for you." There were a lot of things I enjoyed about Alice, but her persistent optimism wore on me. She knew that I would never be able to go to a packed movie theater on a Saturday night. It had been nerve-wracking enough to go to the film festival with Bella, but not many people wanted to see obscure Russian films, so there had been only a smattering of people. But on a Saturday night, the theater would be filled to capacity. It wasn't as if they would be going to see a lesser-known film. I knew they'd go see whatever just came out. "I-I-I'm n-not g-g-g-going to P-P-P-Port Angeles t-t-to" Alice cut me off with a dramatic sigh and I grit my teeth in response. "Never mind, Edward. Just hang out with her exclusively then, but don't be shocked and sad when she messes up and you're left with no one." "Shhhhhhhut up, Alice." She stood up and walked out without another word. It was right before I went to pick Bella up from work when Jasper got in my face for what he referred to as my "messing with" Alice. Normally, I might have been upset and potentially panicked at being accosted by him or anyone else, but tonight, for whatever reason, I just stood there and let him push out his anger. When he was finished telling me that I had no right to make his girlfriend feel bad about inviting me to a movie, my only response was to look at Alice, who stood several feet way with her arms wrapped

around her torso. Part of me really wished that Jasper would hit me, because then I could hit him back. It seemed like it would feel good to throw my fist in his face. He didn't know what he was talking about and it was ridiculous for Alice to involve him when I simply told her that I didn't want to go with them. True, I didn't have to tell her to shut up, but I'd grown tired of listening to her. "Hhhhhhhave fffffun at the m-m-movie." ... Any residual anger I'd felt toward Alice or Jasper faded as soon as I saw Bella and now that we were both lying on my bed, her back pressed against my chest as she sat between my legs, and everything in my world was close to perfect. We'd been lying like this for a while in comfortable and enjoyable silence. Bella wasn't sad today and I'd been graced by her smile three times already. "Edward?" "Hmm?" My arms tightened around her. I loved the feel of her within them. "This is Bonnie Raitt." "Yes." "Charlie listens to her. I know her music and I'm pretty sure she's country." I couldn't help but smile. She seemed determined when we listened to music together to link me to country music, forcing me to admit that I not only listened to some, but that I liked it. "I d-don't think so," I answered, hoping she could hear my smile. Bella shifted in my arms, her hand moving to rest over my thumping heart. "She's singing about cowboys." "So?" I knew what she was driving at, but wouldn't give it to her easily. "So? So, it's country! This is country music. Admit that you like it." I smiled wider. She was more blues than country, but when I met Bella, she knew very little about music, so I could forgive her mistake. "B-Bonnie R-Raitt isn't c-country, Bella, she" "Don't tell me she 'transcends genre.' She's a country singer. She sings country songs. You like country. Say it!" I loved her smile. "O-okay. Mmmaybe I lllike a llllittle c-country." "I knew it!" Her smile was so bright. I felt warm and happy. I hoped that I could make her smile like this all the

time. I wanted to tell her how I felt about her. She'd heard it through my music, but I wanted to verbalize it, even if it came out stunted and stupid, it would still be out there. But before I could open my mouth, I moved my hand up. I meant to stop at her neck. My thumb wanted to feel the little marks the fork had left behind, but I ended up brushing her cheek instead. She flinched. I could tell that she tried not to react, but I knew better than anyone that sometimes you couldn't help how your body responded. Her smile faded and she turned around and pressed herself back into me, her hands moving my arms to hold her tightly. "Sorry," she whispered. I kissed her hair and then rested my chin on her shoulder. ... I awoke on Sunday to a pounding headache. I hadn't had one in a while, but this one was fierce. It was made worse when Emmett informed me that Alice was in the hospital again. He said that she hadn't hurt herself, but had an "episode" in Port Angeles last night where she mentally checked out for over three hours. It was one of her longest and even Jasper couldn't bring her back. He estimated that she had mentally checked out for over three hours and even Jasper couldn't bring her back. I spent most of my day sitting in the hospital cafeteria, waiting for it to be okay to see her. I felt horrible because I'd told her to shut up last night. It was the last thing I'd said to her and then she had an episode. I knew I had caused this. Jasper wouldn't talk to me, but Rosalie and Emmett both told me that it hadn't been my fault. They didn't know what they were talking about. I had known Alice for a long time and she was the only person besides Bella that I couldn't live without. I was one of the few people Alice actually knew. She didn't remember a family before she woke up in a hospital. We sort of just adopted each other as siblings long before Carlisle and Kate adopted us, and I had been mean to her. When we were finally allowed to see her, I waited until everyone else was done. I had no desire to watch them with her. I knew how they would act anyway. Emmett would talk to her as if she wasn't in the hospital again. Rose would tell her about needing to shop for this or that, and Jasper wouldn't say anything at all. He would just hold her hand or stroke her arm. Once everyone else had their turn, I went in and instantly I knew Alice wasn't in her right mind. Although she smiled at me and said my name when I entered, her eyes were dull. At least half of her mind was somewhere else. I couldn't blame her. Her arms were at her sides, the big off-white restraining cuffs encircling her wrists.

When I neared her bed, she whispered, "Jasper wouldn't take these off." Her arms moved, drawing my attention once again to the restraints. I moved to immediately start freeing her hands. It wasn't right that someone else was controlling her like this. "I-I-I'm ssssssorry, A-Aliiice." She looked at me, but her only reaction was to blink and say, "The medicine is itchy." When her arms were free, she rose up onto her knees and hugged herself, then looked around the room as if she hadn't seen it before. "Don't let them take me." "They w-w-won't." In truth, I had no idea if they would take her back to the institution, although I hoped they wouldn't. Her fingers curled and she ran her hands up and down her arms. Red streaks appeared on her skin as her body shook. "Sssssstop." She shook her head and dug her nails harder into her skin. "I itch." My chest tightened as I watched her scratch her skin to the point where the red lines began to open up, tiny beads of blood pooling on the surface. Her eyes were wild. "Sssstop, Aliiiice," I tried again, watching as she abandoned digging into her arm, one going to her chest to scratch vigorously and the other moved to her scalp. It seemed like forever, but finally I forced myself into motion. I grabbed her wrists. They were small within my hands. Her fingers flexed and her eyes widened. She was nearly panting. "Don't let them take me." She struggled within my hold. I could tell that while part of her wanted to be calm, there was something uncontrollable within her that wanted to make herself bleed. My hold slipped on one of her arms and she dug her nails deep into the skin of her other arm. It took all of my strength to grab her wrist again and pull it way. There was blood and two of her nails were broken and barely attached. I moved carefully onto the bed where I sat on my knees, mimicking her position. I held her wrists to her thighs and focused on her eyes. Slowly, the wildness within them dulled and her eyes went back to being half-distant. I hated having to control her like this, but I didn't want her to hurt herself any more than she already had. I sat with her for what seemed like forever, but it was probably more like an hour before Esme and Carlisle entered, looking startled as they took in the scene. It was easy to see that Carlisle was angry with me. He moved to the bed quickly, his eyes flashing to me for just a moment before focusing on Alice, wrapping his hands around her bloody forearms. "Wait outside," he said to me, his eyes hot and voice hard.

My hands wouldn't let go. Esme's fingers glided over mine and after a moment I was able to release Alice's arms. I waited in the hall like they told me. Within the room, Alice yelled and my stomach tightened. Her yells weren't words, just upsetting guttural sounds. I felt sick. After a half-hour, Esme and Carlisle came out. "Edward," Esme said in a soft and soothing voice, "she was restrained for a reason." I nodded. I obviously knew that now. "You have no business making those types of decisions." Carlisle's voice startled me with its hardness. Even when he fought with Kate, it'd never held that tenor. "If you cannot handle seeing her like that, then you will not be allowed in." I felt my heart rate increase, just as my breathing sped up. "Relax," Esme said, her hand moving to run up his arm and then around his shoulder. He turned to her. "I will not. He made a bad decision and he needs to know it." His eyes were back on me now. "You compromised her safety and it will not happen again. Do you understand?" I felt like I couldn't breathe, even though I was sucking in enough air to supply oxygen to an entire team of SCUBA divers. "Y-y-y-y-yesssssss, sssssir." I'd never seen him so angry. I knew that he had a reason to be upset with me. I knew that I shouldn't have unbuckled the restraints. Deep down, I knew that Carlisle, no matter how angry, would never hurt me as a punishment. But even though I knew that intellectually, I couldn't make myself believe it. His anger made me anxious and afraid. I felt like I was close to passing out. Carlisle turned on his heel and headed to the nurses' station. I looked at Esme, my vision blurred by tears. Her hand moved out to touch my arm, but I flinched back. It was probably meant to be soothing, to help me calm down, but all it did was freak me out just a little bit more. I backed up until I felt the wall behind me. "C-C-Carlisle's m-m-mmm-mmmmmad." "Yes. It's a consequence of a bad decision." "I-I-I-I'm sss-sssssssorry." Esme smiled gently at me. "I know." My legs started to shake, I felt my body go limp, and I slid down the wall until I was squatting. "It'll be okay. Breathe deeply." I tried to do what she asked, but all I could manage were shallow gasps of breath. I couldn't look up

from the green-speckled white tile floor, but I knew that Esme had squatted down next to me. This time I let her hand run down my arm. "Try to relax." Her hand moved to my hair and she just let it rest there. "Alice will be okay. Carlisle will calm down. This is just one moment. People make mistakes all the time. It's natural." I shook my head, but found that I breathed just a little easier. "I hhhhhurt A-Aliiiice and C-C-C-C-Carlisle hhhhhhhates m-m-mmme." "Alice hurt herself and Carlisle doesn't hate you. He's upset, yes, but he could never hate you. He chose you, Edward. He didn't have to adopt you, but he did. How could he ever hate you?" I wanted to answer. I wanted to tell her about my wickedness that I knew he could see. "He's upset about the situation. He's upset about your decision, but he's not upset with you." I shook my head, but stayed silent. After all, Esme had been known to lie. ... "What's wrong?" I didn't verbally respond to Bella's question, but I did close my eyes. We were lying on my bed, facing each other and one of her hands was buried in my hair as my hand rested lightly on her hip. I was tired from my small panic attack at the hospital and didn't want to tell her how badly I'd messed up with Alice. This entire weekend was a showcase for my failure. Her fingers tickled my scalp and I let my eyes flutter open. Hers were locked on mine and while they heated my cold body, I was frightened that Bella could also see the wickedness at my core. I closed them again and buried my head deeper into the pillow. "Why aren't you talking?" I was so tired, but I was still thankful for the comfort she provided me. I wished my mind would rest. I wished the words I had learned a long time ago could give me peace. Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light. Again, her fingers moved in my hair and my eyes opened. Bella was so beautiful. "Why are you so sad tonight?" After taking in a deep breath, I answered as simply as I could, "A-Aliiiice is in the hhhhhospital." "Oh." 'Oh,' was right. While I felt bad for not giving Bella the entire story about how I had told Alice to shut up and was mean to her, I didn't want her to know. Likewise, I wasn't going to tell her how Carlisle hated me now because I released Alice or how she was bloody because of what I did.

Bella sat up abruptly. It startled me and I reached for her. I was as content as I could have been just lying in my bed with her, and now she was moving away. I wondered if I had said something wrong and now she was leaving. I wanted to say her name and tell her not to go. I wanted to grab her and hold her and keep her here with me. My body and my mind functioned as well as my voice and mouth did because all I could do was lay there and watch her stand up. She was going to leave because somehow she guessed that I had been responsible for Alice's most recent breakdown. But she didn't leave. She grabbed my hand and tugged on it. My body complied with her silent request and I sat up. My hand fell to my lap as I watched her move to my iPod dock and scroll for a moment. "I like this one," she said as she changed the music from what she had told me was 'moody-emo-crying' music to a song I'd played for her a couple of days ago. Well I didn't play it for her, the iPod did that part; I just told her the name of it. She turned back and stood in front of me. Her breasts were now at eye-level, so I looked at my hands in my lap. My breath released when I felt her hands in my hair and of their own accord, my hands found her hips. My head fell forward, my neck bent, and my head pressed against her soft stomach. "I like this song." Her voice was all but a whisper. "It makes me want to dance." "I thought you d-d-don't liiiike to d-dance." Her fingers tickled my scalp, the little shocks of electricity urging me to look up at her. She smiled down at me. "You must not have been listening. I don't like going to dances, but dancing is okay. This song is perfect because you can dance both fast and slow." Bella's hands moved from my hair, down my neck and shoulders, following the line of my arms until she held my hands at her hips. "Get up." My body complied before my mind even processed her request. Somehow we began to dance, well, it was more her dancing than me. I felt like I could only watch as her body moved, changing from fast to slow movements with the tempo of the song. Both speeds were very seductive. She took one of her hands in mine and she twirled. It was a twirl worthy of one of those classic films. I felt awkward and a little stupid, not because I was dancing with her, but because I wasn't very good at it. Her smile was kind of soft, slightly silly, but totally beautiful. I wanted so badly to tell her that I loved her. I wanted her to know all the reasons why. I wanted to thank her for giving of herself enough to draw my attention away from my failure. I wanted to thank her for every moment she had stepped outside of herself and gave to me. I wanted her so badly in so many ways. I wanted to be so close that we were indistinguishable from each other. I wanted to finally claim her, to possess her, to absorb her very essence into me. I wanted to be contained within her. I kissed her with all the possessive passion I usually held inside of me, pressing her back into my bookshelves. Automatically, her hands moved to my shoulders and she used them for leverage. I lifted her up and her legs wrapped around my waist. Her body clutched mine.

I buried my face in the crook of her neck. She smelled so wonderful. I felt like I could lose myself in her. Then a I remembered something that caused my body to tense. Mike Newton's words filtered and corrupted my mind. He'd said that he wanted to have her against the wall. He had made it sound sodirty. I didn't want Bella to feel like that. My hands moved from under thighs up to her waist and I pulled away, forcing her legs to unwrap. When her feet were on the ground, I stepped back, but kept a hold of her waist. "No," she whispered. There was strength in her voice as her arms reached out for me. She pulled me back close, her hands curled at the sides of my waist, and then she grabbed my shirt with her fists, pulling it taut against my back. "You can't," she started. "You can't keep" She licked her bottom lip and the urge to taste it for myself was too much. I leaned in and touched my tongue to it before bringing it between my lips. Her hands tightened as she pressed closer to me. The bookshelves couldn't have been comfortable against her back, but she seemed not to mind. Her tongue entered my mouth, forcing me to release her lip and her hands loosened on my shirt. I felt them on my stomach, skin on skin. I pressed my lips harder against hers. Her hands trailed around my side and grazed over my scarred back. My body straightened. The instant response to her touch wrenched my mouth away from hers. It was almost painful to lose that connection. "No," she said again. I reached behind me and gently gripped her wrists, pulling her hands away from my back. I held them to my chest instead, trying to control my breathing. My eyes closed for a moment. I heard her sigh and it nearly killed me to think that yet again I was disappointing her. Slowly, my eyes opened and I focused them on her. I backed up with measured steps, my hands still holding her wrists loosely. Her face fell just a little. I tightened my hold, wanting to communicate to her that I wasn't pulling way and that; I wanted her to come with me. She moved with me and we found the bed together. I kept telling myself that I could do this. I could push myself for her because she gave me so much. Lying on her back, Bella's eyes danced over my face as I lie next to her on my side with my body propped up by my arm. I leaned down and kissed her, my hand resting on her bare stomach because shirt had ridden up. The palm of my hand was against her back. As much as it terrified me that I would do something wrong, I kept kissing her. Bella liked this type of contact and I wanted to show her that wasn't a defective boyfriend. I could give her what she needed. My fingers curled when hers moved to the back of my neck. I forced them to straighten out and they did, but they were still on her stomach. The heat of her skin saturated my hand and sent tingly spikes of electricity up my arm. I wanted all of her.

I had touched her breast before, but each time I had to work myself up to it, as if for some reason that day she wouldn't want me to touch her like that. Slowly my hand covered her soft lump of flesh and I felt her nipple harden against my palm in response. I didn't just want to do what we'd done before, so I removed my hand for just enough time to pull the cup of her bra down. I couldn't suppress my groan as her tongue swept into my mouth and I felt her naked breast against my hand for the first time. After a moment, I moved my mouth to her neck. Her fingers tightened in my hair as her body writhed beneath me. "Baby," she whispered, her back arching off the bed. I took a breath and pulled my mouth away, "D-d-don't." "Don't? Don't what?" she asked, sounding winded. "I-I-I d-don't w-want you to c-call me that." "Why?" Her hands cupped my face and she tried to pull me back down to her. "B-Because it means I'm in-n-nterchangable with evvvvveryone else." "No!" Bella sat up, forcing me back. "No way, Edward. One, there is no one else, and two, you could never be interchangeable with anyone." There was no more discussion as Bella moved to me, pressing her lips and her body against mine once again. We were lying back in no time and after what seemed like short minutes, but was actually well over a half-hour, I rolled onto my back, breaking all contact with her. She tried to move with me, but I said, "B-Bella, ssssstop." Bella let herself flop back down. I looked over at her. She was panting, her chest rising and falling rapidly, like mine. Her eyes were closed and her tongue kept sweeping back and forth against her lower lip. I could almost hear her heart thumping in her chest. She swallowed hard. "I swear to god, Edward," she said, her voice deep, "if girls had balls, mine would be blue." I hated that I was going slower than she wanted, but I couldn't help it. "I-I'm sss-ssssorry, B-Bella." "It's okay," she said, letting out a breath as she did, her hands moving to straighten out her shirt as she sat up. "N-n-no it's n-n-not." Finally, her eyes fixed on me. "If you don't think it's okay, why do we keep stopping? Guys aren't usually the ones who want to stop." Although I knew she didn't intend to hurt my feelings, her words cut. I knew I wasn't 'normal' and I knew that probably every other guy would've probably had her every possible way by now. I knew that she wanted sex. She wasn't subtle about it and although she hated it, she stopped every

time I asked her to do so. "I-I'm t-t-t-t" She sat up and placed her hand on my chest. "Relax, baby." She shook her head. "Sorry, I mean, Edward." I took a deep breath. "I-I'm t-t-trying, Bella." She licked her lips and gave me a small smile while her hand found its way into my hair. "I know." "Y-y-you know I w-want y-you, r-right?" Bella sighed but nodded. "I-I jjjjust can'tyet." While her finger continued to run through my hair she said, "But I don't understand why. Will you help me understand?" I didn't want to tell her. Even if I could find the words, I doubted whether I could say them. My mind was frozen and as she moved to sit atop my thighs, my body froze as well. Her hand moved to my belly, creeping up under my shirt. "I want to make you feel good." Her wrist brushed against my erection and my breath caught. She acted like she hadn't felt it, but I knew she had. There was no disguising what she her body did to mine, how I reacted to her. She leaned closer, her forearm sliding against the head of my penis. My hands grabbed her hips as my fingers clamped down on her. I couldn't control my body, obviously. For a while all I could do was just hold her hips tightly, but then I found her wrists and yanked her hands away from me. I sat up, which forced her to move back a little, but I still had her wrists in my hands. "Ow! Fuck, Edward." Bella pulled back, but my grip remained firm. "Fucking let go!" she said, tugging again. Seconds passed like hours until finally my fingers released her. She moved off of me and off the bed. My body was incredibly tight, but I managed to sit up. I hated that I had hurt her again. "B-B-B-B-B" "Jesus fucking Christ, Edward. Stop fucking grabbing me like that." My legs bounced, my shoulders quaked, and I couldn't breathe. I felt my rigid body crumple in on itself. I felt dizzy as I struggled against the invisible vice clamping down around me. I lost track of everything in the room. I couldn't hear anything other than the rush of my blood and the rasp of my breath. I was within my dark, little self-inflicted cave when I felt something on my shoulder. My body flinched and then relaxed. Hands were in my hair. I remembered that Alice was in the hospital, so the hands had to belong to Bella. I took a deep breath. The world lightened around me by just a fraction.

I took another one. My fingers relaxed. One more and I could hear Bella telling me to calm down before I passed out. Passing out would have been a blessing. Instead I was able to sit up and then I came face-to-face with Bella, on her knees before me, worry etched on every inch of her face. It was only a matter of minutes before she rose up to her feet and moved away from me. I was much calmer now. I could breathe and my heart rate slowed to near-normal. "to go" I watched as Bella continued to speak, but I could only hear a few random words. "the bus" Bella was leaving. I didn't want her to go. Without thinking, I reached out for her, but let my heavy hands fall to my lap when she backed up quickly. She didn't want me to touch her and how could I expect her to? I had hurt her. I had grabbed her. I'd held her too tight. I had forced my will upon hers. I wanted to stop her. I wanted to use words and not force her physically, but I couldn't do anything but watch her go. She hadn't shut my door on the way out. She must have been really mad at me to leave it open like that. Bella was always good about keeping my room private. I couldn't even get up to close it. I kept going over the events of the past two days: my fight with Alice, my fight with Carlisle, my fight with Bella. I felt horrible. It was obvious that it was all me. I had failed all of them. I wasn't a good friend to Alice. I was a disappointment of a son, adopted or not, to Carlisle, and I was an awful boyfriend to Bella. I could hear voices down the hall and as much as I wanted to get up and shut my door, I couldn't. Emmett and Carlisle passed. Emmett looked into my room and I hated how his eyes roamed over everything. I was grateful, however, that they didn't stop or linger. I heard Emmet's voice, "What's wrong with Edward, Dad?" My jaw tightened and my teeth hurt with the pressure. Something was always wrong with Edward. I wasn't right. I was wrong. I was always wrong. My very existence was wrong. Suddenly I was incredibly angry. It wasn't fair that I was wrong. It wasn't fair to be born wicked. It wasn't right that I couldn't control any of it. I launched myself off the bed and my fists connected to the first things they came in contact with. I was mad at my mother for not saving me. I was mad at my father for not being able to cure me. I hated myself for my reactions. I hated Carlisle and Esme for making me talk to Bella. I was mad at Bella for pushing me, always pushing! I was angry at myself for being unable to meet Bella's

expectations. I hated that I was an inept boyfriend and I hated her for being a needy girlfriend. I couldn't give her what she needed and it was shoved in my face all the time. I didn't know how long I hit whatever it was, but I know I only stopped because I heard Carlisle say my name. There was pressure on my shoulder. I looked at it and saw a hand. My eyes followed the arm attached to it up to Carlisle's face. My fists stopped hitting and started pushing. Carlisle promised that no one would be allowed into my room unless I was dying. I wasn't dying and he was in my room. I desperately wanted to yell and scream at him. I wanted to verbally tell him to get out, but nothing came, just stunted, unrecognizable noises, so I pushed at him. I pushed him towards the door. He stumbled back, but then righted himself. "Dad?" The sound of Emmett's voice incited me even more. I looked up and he was standing right outside my door, his hand wrapped around the frame, his eyes wide. I pushed at Carlisle again and managed to ground out, "Ggggggggget o-o-o-o-out!" Finally, with every bit of effort I had, I shoved him out of my room, not even giving him a chance to leave on his own. I slammed the door. I didn't care if someone's fingers or limbs were stuck and smashed by it. I needed the door closed. I needed it locked. I needed my room to be my own again. Finally I just sank down against it, looking from my battered hands to the remains of one of my guitars. Pieces were scattered all over the floor and atop of the desk. The neck still hung on the wall, the strings hanging down like sad streams of tears. Outside I heard Carlisle say, "He has to deal with things he's never had to before. He's never had to really deal with" Their voices grew quiet as they moved away, but I stopped listening as well. ... I hadn't bothered turning on my computer. I knew Bella wouldn't be online. Not after I'd hurt her like that. I spent the rest of my Sunday sitting on the edge of my bed, my eyes fixed on the broken remains of my guitar. It was late when there was a knock on my door. I had expected it sooner. I thought for sure Carlisle would have called Esme right after I pushed him out and she would have wanted to have a session about my anger. Or perhaps they waited on Dr. Eleazar. My heart raced at the thought that Dr. Eleazar was at my bedroom door.

"G-g-g-gggggo aw-w-w-way." "Edward, I just want to talk to you." My head whipped around to look at my locked door. "B-B-Bella?" "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to leave like that, but you Can I come in?" I moved to the door and threw it open. I was so happy to see her that I nearly grabbed her into my arms and crushed her to me. Remembering how I had hurt her earlier, I didn't touch her. "B-Bella." Her eyes scanned my face and then immediately dropped to my hands. "Stop hurting your hands," she whispered. I shoved them into my pockets and moved out of the way, letting her in. She looked at my desk and my wall and what was left of the guitar. "Why'd you do that?" "I w-w-was m-m-mmmad." Bella turned to me. Her eyes were soft and worried. "Were you mad at me?" I hesitated. I didn't want her to know that I had been upset over her constant physical need. "N-n-n-no." "Don't lie. Were you mad at me?" My neck bent and I looked at the floor, ashamed of my answer. "Y-yes." "You were mad at me so you smashed the first guitar Carlisle gave you?" I looked up at her in surprise. I hadn't thought she would be able to tell which of my guitars was which. "Just because I was high doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention." "I'm ssssssorry." "For what?" I shook my head, hanging my head again, not wanting to tell her. "Why didn't you just tell me you were mad at me instead of breaking the things you like?" I stepped away from her, my head still hung low. I balled my fists at my sides, but decided to be honest. Adding lying to my list of sins wouldn't help anything. "I d-d-don't kn-know hhhhow to." Bella sighed. "You say, 'Bella, I'm mad at you. In fact, you fucking pissed me off and here's why.'" I smiled just a little, but didn't show it to her. I knew I could never say that.

But she was determined to make me, "Say it." "W-w-what?" I asked, trying to avoid. "It'll make you feel better." "What?" "Say what I just said you should say. Don't leave out the swear words either." This time I did look up at her. She was so pretty with her little apologetic smile and wide eyes. "At least let me know why you were mad at me." Even if I couldn't say it the way she wanted me to, I did need to tell her why. She deserved some kind of communication. "I w-was m-mad at you because you w-w-want things from me that I d-don't know if I c-c-can give you." Bella was silent for a while. I felt nervous. I couldn't figure out what to do with my body as she just looked at me. Just when I felt like I was going to pass out from my nerves, she said, "Someone hurt you." My eyes widened in terror. She knew. How did she know? Who told her and what exactly did she know? I felt sick. I felt weak. I felt like I would die. I felt like maybe I wanted to. "I don't want to hurt you. I'll try not to lose control around you." The muscles around my stomach relaxed slightly. "I do want things from you, but we'll findother ways I mean, can I still kiss you?" I nodded. "Can I still run my hands through your hair?" I nodded emphatically. I would hate it if she didn't do that anymore. "Can I touch your chest?" I didn't nod quickly this time. "Because you have a fucking awesome chest." How could I not concede when she said things like that? I nodded.

"Can I still sit on you? I mean, at least every once in a while?" I thought for a moment. I didn't want her to be afraid to touch me. When I really considered it, I liked that she pushed me beyond what I thought I could handle. It was good for me. Esme always tried to get me to do things that brought on panic attacks, to desensitize myself to them. If I told Bella that she couldn't touch me or sit on me, I'd never have the chance to get any better. I had told Dr. Eleazar that I wanted to have sex with Bella, and I did. I wouldn't be able to do that if I was never able to have her physically close to me. Slowly, I nodded. "M-mmmmmaybe." Bella smiled, but her words were low and honest. "I'm sorry, Edward. I had togo." I could say nothing. "When yougrabbed me," she said, stopping to swallow hard and cock her head to the side, "I justthere werethings that went through my head and I" I moved to her at this point, hating that she was so upset by my reaction to her touch. "B-B-B-Bella?" She raised an eyebrow. "Say it again." "B-Bella." "Again," she whispered. "Bella." Her smile grew and I tried again. "Bella. I-I'm sorry." ... By mid-week I felt better. The heaviness between Bella and I had worn off. She was smiling more, which made me smile and there were times when both of us would actually laugh. Alice was still in the hospital, which made my house tense, but with Bella things were good. I hated that Alice was in the hospital all alone, but Carlisle and Esme wouldn't let me go see her. Jasper could only see her after school for an hour. I didn't know why those rules were imposed but none of us were happy about it. The only blessing was that no one said she was going to Seattle to be 'evaluated' again. My hope was that she would be home in a week. It was nearing Christmas. I didn't really like this time of year, but Alice always made it better. Dinner on Wednesday was barely edible as it consisted of under-cooked vegetables and some kind of meat I couldn't recognize. No one took credit for cooking it, so I couldn't even ask what it was if I wanted to. If Bella had been here, she would have been appalled. But the food wasn't the only bad thing at dinner tonight.

The secret smiles between Rosalie and Emmett finally gave way to them announcing that they had some kind of 'big news.' Before anyone's interest could really be piqued, Rosalie blurted it out. "I'm pregnant." I put my fork down. Obviously she and Emmett were excited about it. His smile was wide and her expression was determined. Their hands were connected as they waited for a response. Esme said nothing, but fixed her eyes on Carlisle, who sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The real reaction came from Jasper, whose anger wasn't hard to feel. For a moment he just stewed in it, but once it bubbled over, the room was loud and felt dangerous. His hands slammed down on the table-top, making everything shake. His glass of milk fell over. Rosalie's hand slipped out of Emmett's. "Jasper, don't" "Don't? Don't what?" he practically yelled as he stood up. Emmett rose to meet him. He no longer smiled. It was clear to me that he did not like Jasper's blatant intimidation. "Don't yell at Rosalie." "Don't tell me what to do. She's my sister." "And she'll be my wife, so sit back down and be respectful." "Boys," Carlisle interjected. No one heard him. When Jasper and Emmett were so close that their noses almost touched, I pushed my chair back. Nothing about this room was comfortable anymore. Everything had changed. There was a moment when I saw Jasper's fingers curled into a fist. I stood up quickly and left the room without looking back. Someone hit someone else and everyone's voice mixed together into noise I didn't want to hear. When I was in my room, I put on my head-phones and played the keyboard until the little box on the computer screen told me that Imabell was available. I wished that she was here with me, but just being able to communicate with her in any way was a blessing. My chest felt lighter and it was easier to forget what was happening downstairs. ...

Chapter 47: Forlorn Hope Bella Edward was tripping me the fuck out. For as much anxiety as he had about sex, the guy kept on trying. He freaked out for a second when I guessed that someone had fucked with him at some point, but he still seemed to want to try with me.

Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster that he wanted to try with me because I loved his mouth on my neck, and anywhere he put his hands felt fucking fantastic. All I had to do was relinquish a little control and let Edward push himself. It was Friday afternoon, about a half-hour after school let out and we were at my house. It would be crowded at Edward's, so we decided to get to tonight's session right on-time. Until then, we were making out pretty heavily on my bed. He had yet to explore anything lower than my belly button and he seriously seemed like he had no interest in me touching him just about anywhere. It was incredibly awkward to not be able to grab at him and push forward at my own pace. But I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to break him. The feelings I had for him made me want to protect him from that sort of shit, even though it seemed somewhat inevitable that he would hurt because of me. I knew he was pushing himself because of me. There was a part of me that thought he shouldn't and wanted to tell him to stop when it was so uncomfortable for him, but the bigger part of me, the selfish part of me, absolutely loved that one day, he'd be over that shit and I could be as physically close to him as I was emotionally. I had convinced him to take his shirt off, so both of us were half-naked and I managed to glide my fingers over his ribcage as his hand did wonderful things to my breast. His mouth stopped moving against my neck for just a moment and I withdrew my hand. I wasn't trying to push the envelope, but I liked the feel of him. I hated the bumpy flesh of his back, even though in a sick way, it fascinated me. It was horrible to know that Edward's father had whipped him so hard and so many times that his back was a maze of welts and scar tissue, but I wanted to feel it, taste it, know it like it was my own. Renee was a sick bitch, but she never made me recite anything while she beat me. His father was a dick and I hoped he was dead. One day I would ask him. One day I would know all of the things that he didn't really want me to know about him and I would know because he would tell me himself. My breath caught as he pulled my earlobe between his lips and slipped his hand from my breast down to my stomach. His little finger rested on the button of my jeans and my mind couldn't help but run quickly through fantasies of his hand moving lower, in my between my legs, or better yet, underneath my jeans. Edward was so fucking hot. He didn't fucking know it, but he was the hottest guy I'd ever been with and the crazy part that was that just his lips on my earlobe could make my body arch and twist. The sounds that came from me were like those of another person, a stranger, but I didn't care how I sounded, I just wanted more of him. He shifted and more of his weight pressed on me. His left leg moved over mine and the knee rested between my legs. Holy shit, this was the closest he'd ever been to me while we were lying down and I could feel his dick through our jeans. I couldn't touch him the way I wanted to because it would freak him out and I didn't need a panic-ridden Edward right now. I much preferred this kissing-licking-sucking-at-my-neck Edward. I had to keep my mind focused on not moving much because if I did, I would usurp his power for sure and this was a moment where he needed to retain it. His breath was shaky and I swallowed hard.

"Oh, god!" I gasped as he took my nipple into his mouth for the first time. That was unexpected, but sexy as fuck. The sensation went straight from my breast to between my legs and I thought I would come just from Edward's mouth on me. I wanted him. I wanted him so fucking badly I could've screamed. I knew that he wanted, no needed, to go slow, but fucking Christ! It took all the strength I had within me not to flip us over, rip his pants off and ride him hard. His hand moved to my other breast and gently kneaded it before his beautiful, long fingers found the tight skin of my nipple. He rolled it between his fingers. My right hand fisted in my purple comforter as my back arched up. I was desperate for more contact with him. I could feel the heat of his chest on my belly. I wanted to look at him, but found that my eyes were squeezed shut. Motherfucker, what I wouldn't have given for his hand to move between my legs! My thighs pressed together and almost on its own, my left hand moved up and pressed against the bare skin of his chest. I just happened to touch his nipple and his mouth released mine. I shook my head as I felt him pull away. I wanted him to stay with me. I wanted him to push himself further. For a moment, I didn't care if he broke during the process because I needed him to do it. I needed him to fuck me, or at least be closer to it than he was right now. But my eyes opened and my selfish thoughts quieted in my head. They didn't go away; they just lessened as I studied him. His body was tight and although he was sitting up, his legs were drawn close to his body and his head was bowed, resting on his knees. I could hear his rapid, panting breaths. I sat up, hating how his body tensed further as I ran my hands over his arms to his shoulders and then to his hair. It was only after long minutes of silence that his muscles loosened. "I-I-I-I'm ssss-sss-ssssssorry." I moved to press myself to him, less because I needed the contact and more because I knew he did. I continued to stroke his hair, but moved one arm to wrap around him. I could tell that he hated me touching his bare back, but loved that I was hugging him. "Don't be sorry, that was awesome." His face turned to me, his eyebrow cocked in question. I nodded. "It was fucking good, baby." I bit my lip and rolled my eyes at myself. He didn't like it when I called him baby, but sometimes I couldn't help it. "Sorry, I mean" I glanced at my alarm clock. "We have to go." Watching him tug on his shirt made me sad. Edward was so sexy and now his body was hidden from me again, but we had to go back to his house or we'd be late. As much as I hated therapy, I knew I had to go. Within a half-hour that I found myself sitting across from Dr. Hale again. She asked me what I wanted to talk about, so I thought about it.

I could talk to her about Charlie and Sue, but that would just make me sad for whatever reason. A week or so before Thanksgiving, Charlie said we would be having Sue and her kids over for dinner. I supposed it was his fucked-up way of introducing her as his girlfriend. He said I didn't have to cook, because he didn't want to put that on me, but then he suggested pizza. What guy gets fucking pizza on the day you introduce some chick as your girlfriend to his daughter? Isn't that kind of important? Shouldn't he have wanted to make it special or some shit? I cooked lasagna. Sue said she liked it and kept asking me questions about stupid shit like school and oregano. It was bullshit and as soon as I was finished, I invited Leah upstairs. It wasn't that I wanted her in my room, but it was better than hanging out with Charlie and his lover. I had to invite Seth up too. He sat in the rocking chair looking at my copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover. All Leah did was give me an update about Emily and Sam. Like I cared. But I didn't really want to talk to Dr. Hale about any of that since she'd ask me questions about how I felt about Sue and if I thought she was good for Charlie. I didn't know how I felt and who the hell knew what was good for Charlie. Although I did notice he didn't drink as many beers that night as he usually did. There was really only one thing that I wanted to talk about and that was Edward. I didn't figure she would give me much to go on though. She was pretty tight-lipped about stuff regarding other people. But I couldn't contain it. "Why does sex petrify Edward?" Dr. Hale took in a deep breath but said nothing, her eyes narrowing a bit. "Did his stupid fucking mother fuck him? Or was it his bible-thumping father?" "Why are you so sure something like that happened to him?" I gave her a look that should have told her I knew she was playing stupid, but she just raised an eyebrow at me. "Just like yours, Edward's secrets aren't mine to tell." Ah ha! "But there is a secret, right?" I could tell that she wasn't going to say, but I knew that she knew. "You know, don't you?" "I know a lot of things about Edward, but I'm not discussing them with you." She paused. "May I ask you something?" I rolled my eyes. "If I say no, will you ask anyway?" "Probably." "Then yes, go ahead."

"What do you like about Edward?" Wait. That was it? No deep question about why I like sex or who fucked me when or what my mom did when situation X happened? Damn, talk about an easy topic! "Edward's soum, he's so" Okay, perhaps it was easier for me to think about what I liked about hi m rather than speak it. "He's so pure and passionate and he smells nice." I bit my lip while I watched her smile. "He sees the good in people when I can only see the bad. I can tell he's been hurt so many times but he keepsI don't know how he can be soso innocent and forgiving." "Do you wish you were more like him?" I thought for a moment, my eyes darting over to the big medical books on Dr. Cullen's shelf. "Maybe." I thought about how dependent Edward was on Dr. Cullen, on Dr. Hale, on Alice and I shrugged. "I wish he was more like me too. He needs to stop thinking that people will always be around to help him. I don't really understand that. The only person you can truly trust is yourself and he doesn't get that." "I take it from your question that sex is something you've explored with him." I narrowed my eyes at her. I shouldn't have asked anything, because now she would flip it all around or something. I could have just answered her outright but with Dr. Hale, it was just instinctual not to give up anything easily. "My experimentation in celibacy, as you called it, is still in place." She wrote something down. "You don't seem happy about that." "I like sex." "So you've said. Have you discussed your sexual history with Edward?" Okay, that was pretty much enough. She was practically his stepmother. I was not going to give her information about what the hell went on between Edward and me. "I'm not telling you that shit." She folded her hands on top of the notebook that rested on her lap and leaned toward me. "I'm not gleaning information about my boyfriend's son's girlfriend, Bella. I'm asking a young woman I counsel if she's disclosed her sexual history to her boyfriend before attempting to engage in sexual activity with him. It's the responsible thing to do." I looked away. I didn't want him to know my 'sexual history.' "He knows parts." Just like I knew parts of his. "How many partners have you had?" At the question I stood up and crossed the room to get a better look at Dr. Cullen's books. Most of them were medical in nature, but he had a few on wildlife of the Pacific Northwest and a couple of books on the Revolutionary war. Huh. Dr. Cullen owned the Tao of Pooh. "Bella?" I knew that just like Edward, Dr. Hale would keep asking until she got an answer. "I don't know how many guys have fucked me." My voice sounded dead even to my ears.

"How many men have you consented to have sex with?" I hated her stupid questions. I hated the stupid shit she made me think about. I couldn't stand that she expected me to give her all of this information about myself, but more than that, I hated that I knew I would eventually give up the information. As much as I wished I could say the opposite, I knew that my time with Dr. Hale was helping, at least a little bit. "I don't know," I answered again in a whisper. I slid my hand into the pocket of my jeans and grasped Edward's green rock. "Less than ten?" "Maybe." I thought for a moment, wondering if I could give an accurate and honest answer to the question. If I counted them up and told her, would she tell Edward that I was a slut? How would he react if someone he trusted like Dr. Hale told him that I was big whore who fucked more people in three years than most people do in their lifetime? "More than ten?" Quite possibly. "I don't know." I was thankful that she hadn't gotten up or asked me to sit back down. I was happy to have space away from her, to not have her heavy eyes trapping me in that chair. "If you added into that the number of men who had taken away your choice, would the number increase only by one?" I hated her. "I know what you're trying to do and I'm not going to say what you want me to say. If you tell Charlie anything about what you think you know, I'll" Fuck, what would I do? Like I had any idea about how to get someone's medical license revoked. Like anyone would listen to me. "Why is it hard for you to admit what happened?" I wasn't sure which thing she was referring to, but since she'd been asking me lately about what happened at Lauren's party, I figured that was it. "I admit that Newton's disgusting dick was in me, okay?" "Did you consent to that?" I whipped around and shot her an icy glare. "You should shut the fuck up, you pushy-ass bitch." "Does it make you feel better to call people names?" "Does it make you feel good to drill people for their personal information?" She sat back and wrote a few things down. "I'm trying to help you, Bella." "Yeah," I spat at her. "Out of the goodness of your heart you're asking me about how many guys have stuck their dick in me. Yeah, I believe that. You get paid to ask me sick fucking questions. I don't know what's worse, the fact that you actually get paid to do this or that you do it at all. Do you and Dr. Cullen act this shit out for kicks or"

"I don't charge your father anything. Charlie's a good man. He does a lot for the people around him. He's done a lot for my family, so when he asked for help, I agreed." I closed my mouth and turned around again. "One day you'll see that your father's not a bad man. People can do nice things for other people without wanting anything in return. I'd appreciate it if you would stop making obviously-false statements and get facts correct before speaking. It's great to assume things, Bella, but do you see how when you do, you actually come off looking quite juvenile and imprudent?" "Shut the fuck up and save your big words for your pillow talk." "Sit down, Bella." I turned around, crossing my arms over my chest. I cocked an eyebrow. I was not about to sit down now that she told me to. "If you prefer to stand, that's fine, but you need to listen because I'm only telling you this one time. Your anger is justified and I'll do everything I can to help you deal with it. I will not, however, let you treat me like dirt just because you feel like dirt. Don't refer to my relationship with Dr. Cullen in any manner that is crass or disrespectful. Don't assume that everyone in the world enjoys sexual objectification. Don't think that I'm here with you because I'm obligated to be here. I have something you need, so sit down and be grateful." I huffed. "You don't have anything I need." "Don't I?" I hated this stupid bitch more than I hated anyone in the fucking world right now. "What is it that I need?" I asked tightly. "You need someone to help you navigate through those emotions and feelings that are weighing you down. You need someone to help desensitize you to all of those memories you wish you didn't have. You need someone to" "It doesn't have to be you," I cut her off. Dr. Hale placed the notebook and her stupid fucking ball point pen down on the table next to her and leveled me with her eyes. "You're right. It doesn't have to be me. I haven't wanted to introduce you to some of my less caring, burnt-out colleagues who work for the state. I could if you'd like. How do you think someone in a state-funded hospital or juvenile detention center would respond to your attitude?" I had nothing to say. I didn't want to meet any other therapist, especially someone who hated their job. It took me a long moment to work up the nerve to do it, but I looked at the floor and spoke the word that hurt. "Sorry." "Accepted, now please sit down." ... I didn't know how I was feeling after my session with Hale. After I sat back down, she went on and on about Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and basically described the symptoms as everything I was going

through. I didn't know how she knew about my flashbacks, but she did. I didn't know how she knew about all of the random things that set them off, but she did. It left me feelingsick and dysfunctional, angry and upset, sad and wounded. But yet, I had this tiny bead of hope that bubbled inside of me. There was a name for what was happening to me and the way she described it made sense. I felt so out of control. Who I was in Forks wasn't who I was in Phoenix and I hadn't been the one who changed it. Knowing that she thought I had PTSD gave me a sense that maybe she could make me better. Other people with the same disorder got better. I could get better. I could be better for Edward and not make him sad or upset all the time. I could be better for all of my periphery friends, like Angela and Alice, and be more a part of their lives, maybe even give a fuck about what was happening with them. I could be better for Charlie and be the daughter he wants to have. It was with all of these emotions and thoughts that I settled in next to Edward on the couch, waiting for Dr. Hale to start the group therapy session. I was about as physically close to him as humanly possible without sitting on his lap or alerting everyone in the room that I had an aching need to be attached to him. Usually the rest of the Cullens and Hales were already in the room. They were typically the first ones in, but Alice was in the hospital and that seemed to throw everything off-balance. Even at school, Edward and I ate lunch in the library. He hadn't told me why and I figured we'd get in trouble because the sign clearly read: No Food or Drink Beyond This Point. When Emmett came in holding Rosalie's hand, guiding her to the couch like she was an invalid, it was the first time I'd seen him in a while. His lower lip was busted open and he had a bruise that was turning a nasty shade of green around his left eye. Jasper came in next, taking a seat on the other side of his sister. He too had a black eye, but was in a better state than Emmett. "What the hell happened to them?" I whispered to Edward. "They ffffffought." I rolled my eyes. "Obviously. Why?" "R-R-R-Rose is p-p-pregnant." "Oh." That sucked for her, I supposed. She seemed smart and Edward said she'd been accepted into Stanford. I wondered what she would do now. No wonder Emmett danced around her like an overprotective daddy goose. As much as I wished my mind worked differently, it immediately jumped to the scene I'd made up in which both Emmett and Jasper shoved their fists at each other. "I wish I would've seen that," I said lightly. Movement from Edward drew all of my attention to him. His hands were curled in his lap. "I w-w-w-wish I hhhhhhadn't." Dr. Hale started the session and I paid as much attention as I could. When she asked me to talk to the group, I picked something relatively easy, which was my lack of interest in school as of late. Everyone supplied what they thought were helpful suggestions in order to get my head back into it.

I hated talking in front of the group, but at least it wasn't about anything that deep. Jacob spoke about his little sister, who apparently called home from somewhere in northern California. He said that he tried to get her to come home and to convince her to tell him where she was so that he could go get her, but she wouldn't say. I tried not to look at Jacob. It made me feel sad that he was upset and I couldn't really help him. I was afraid that if I showed too much concern, he'd take it wrong and then I'd be forced yet again to tell him that I would never be his girlfriend. Like always, I was thankful when group was over and I could be alone with Edward. We sat on his bed together, our legs touching as I picked at his beautiful hands. "D-do you wwwwwant to be a m-m-mmmmom?" I stopped picking and took a breath. I suppose his question was timely, but it caught me off-guard all the same. I'd never specifically thought about it, but my general feeling about mothers wasn't kind or wanting. "No. I fuck up my own life just fine. I don't need some tiny parasite to screw up too." I looked at him. His eyes were cast down and he was looking at our connected hands. His thumb moved to stroke mine and I smiled at the sensation. "Do you want to be a dad?" He didn't hesitate. "No." I nodded and then moved closer to him until my head was against his chest, my arm wrapped around his torso. "Yeah. The world will be a better place if I don't breed, you know?" His body vibrated and I looked up. I could just barely see his head shake back and forth. "You wwwwould be a good m-m-mmmmom, Bella." "Are you high?" He let out a breath that was laced with a chuckle. "You t-take care of p-people. You" I cut him off before he could say anything more that was obviously wrong. "I would be a bad mother, Edward. I would hate my kids without meaning to. I would be a bad example for them and I have no idea how to give kids what they need. Beyond that, I don't want kids. They need things. They want things and more than that, the responsibility for not fucking them up is too much for me." I laid my head back down on his chest. "Yeah," he whispered. I was tired of all of the heaviness. I wanted to just have fun with my boyfriend. Yes, his father beat him. Yes, my mother beat me. His mother blew her brains out in front of him and someone had hurt him like Renee's boyfriend hurt me. I knew that, but I wanted to be normal with him. I wanted to just have fun with him. But I didn't know how to do that. "Let's do something tomorrow." I had the whole day off. "W-w-what do you wwwwwant to do?" "I don't know, something fun. What's fun?"

Edward shrugged. "I-I-I'm not vvvery fun, Bella." I smiled. I wasn't very fun either, but I loved when he said my name. "Say it again." I loved that he knew what I was talking about immediately. "Bella." I let my eyes slip closed and listened to his heart beat for a moment. "What does everyone else do for fun?" "Gggggo to movies or ssssshop." "I hate shopping and apart from Russian movies that no one wants to see, I doubt you'll feel very comfortable in a movie theater." I tried to think of something, but nothing came to mind. "Do you want to hang out here?" "N-no." "Okay, Charlie's house?" "W-w-we should gggo somewhere. Somewhere wwwwithout a lllllot of people." "The meadow will be cold and damp." I was tired of cold and damp, but every place around here is cold and damp this time of year. There wasn't much about Phoenix I missed, except for it being dray and hot. We just needed to get away. I didn't want to sit around doing nothing like always. There was way too much stuff to think about when we just sat around. "I know!" I said, sitting up and smiling at him. "Let's just drive and see where the road takes us. We don't have to go anywhere in particular, we can just go." It surprised me, but Edward agreed. After four hours in the car on Saturday, we were at Long Beach, only a short distance from Oregon. It was the town's off-season, so there were no real tourists to speak of and while the sun shining through the clouds made the ocean incredibly beautiful, the chill in the air seemed to have kept everyone inside. Edward and I sat in his Volvo and stared out at the vastness of the ocean, watching the white-capped waves crash to shore. It was a little past noon and we were hungry, so I took out these crappy sandwiches I'd packed. As we ate them, Edward's phone rang. He glanced at the screen but did not answer it. A minute later, it rang again. "Ssssssorry." I shifted in my seat to look at him rather than the Pacific. "Who is it?" "C-C-C-Carlisle." "Don't you have to answer it?" Edward always answered his phone when it was his adopted father. "I don't wwwwant to." I watched as he held down the red button that would make the phone shut the hell up. The phone sang for a minute and then went dark. "What's wrong, Edward?"

"Hhhhe'll t-tell me to c-come hhhhome." If I didn't know any better, I would have thought he was disobeying some rule, but Edward didn't disobey rules, he stuck by them and felt sheltered by them. "Does he know where you are?" He shook his head. "Did you tell him you were going out?" Again he shook his head. "Don't get in trouble for me. We've been over this. You're the good one and I'm" He wouldn't let me finish. "I'll gggget in trouble fffffor m-me, Bella. I'm almost eighteen. I can ggggo where I want to gggo." His voice was defensive, as if he felt like he needed to explain himself. I hoped he knew that whatever he did was perfect by me. They treated him like a child. They treated him as if he had some kind of mental challenge that left him too impaired to make decisions for himself. It wasn't fair, and although I didn't want him to get into trouble, I would support his rebellion. I liked rebels. I tossed the empty bag that had contained my sandwich onto the dash, wiped my hands on my jeans and then threaded my fingers through his hair. "Rule-breaking is sexy." Although he shook his head, he smiled. "You llllook t-tired." "I'm always tired." "You d-don't ssssleep at n-night." It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway. "No." "Why?" I smiled but knew he already knew why. "Sleeping's for babies and old people." "You ssssleep w-with me." If that had come from anyone else, it could have been interpreted an entirely different way. "That's because I'm safe with you," I admitted, knowing that it gave him power, but understanding that he needed a little bit of power. Edward was always great when I admitted stuff like that to him. He didn't need to dwell on that shit. It was like he knew it would be uncomfortable to address it further. "D-do you need to take your b-blood sssugar?" I sighed and shook my head. "I'll take it in an hour or so. You can't get a good reading right after you eat."

"It llllllooks c-c-cold out there." I smiled at his randomness. "It is winter." We had driven all this way and I didn't want to just sit in the car, so I grabbed my gloves off the dash and tugged them on. "Come on." "W-w-what?" "Let's go swimming." He looked at me as if I was crazy. "A-a-a-a-ah" I laughed and shook my head at his incredulity. "It was a joke, but I do think we should go do something on the beach. It's beautiful out." I pulled on my hat and popped open the car door. I waited until he opened his door before I got out. I met him between the headlights and I could tell that he was cold. Hell, I was cold too. He'd lived in Chicago, so I was sure Edward was well-versed in cold. We looked out at the ocean. It was amazing and beautiful. Beaches were awesome in the winter. Quickly, I turned around and slapped his shoulder lightly. "Tag. You're it." His eyes flitted around my face and slowly a smile spread on his. He moved his arm, his hand closing in on my elbow, but I jumped back. "Nope. I'm not that easy. You have to work for it," I called behind me as I turned and ran down toward the water, knowing what a joke my words were. I had no intentions of swimming or even getting wet, but I wanted to see the ocean up close. I wanted to feel the gentle mist coat me. I glanced behind me and saw him running after me. I had only played tag a few times at recess when I was a kid. I remembered it being incredibly fun. This was fun, but in all honesty, I wanted Edward to catch me. I didn't want to run from him, because I knew that I wasn't difficult to get and I would never make Edward work hard. Besides, why would I want to run away from him? I slowed and he caught up, his hands moving to my biceps and holding me loosely. "Y-y-you're it." He brought me to him, hugging me tightly for just a moment before running away. We forgot about the game once I tagged him again and yelled, "No tag-backs!" We ran until I was exhausted. I hadn't exercised in a really long time and the workout felt great. My lungs felt like they were expelling all of the shit I'd put into them. My legs burned as my heart raced. Edward was fast. He was like a damn track-star. I could tell he slowed his pace for me. I loved that he stayed with me the whole time. I wasn't quite sure how it happened, but somehow I tripped and when he reached down to help me up, I pulled him down with me. Damp sand covered the knees of his jeans and the right side of his coat. I watched him, fascinated, as he looked at it with a crinkled nose and a stitched brow. I'd noticed his aversion to all things dirty. The only exception was when he was messing around with the Brussels sprouts. He shifted around and tried to push the sand off his coat and pants, but it just got stuck on his gloves. He removed them and swung them at the offending sand until I took his hands in mine. "It's just sand. There's nothing wrong with it, Edward. Just pretend it's potting soil and we're re-potting plants."

He sighed and tried to pull his hands out of mine when I brought them down to the sand between us. "Just feel it. It's not bad." "I-I-I d-don't wwwwwant to. It's d-d-dirty." "There's nothing wrong with dirty." I wondered if he knew, really fucking knew how dirty I was, if he'd have an aversion to me too. "You look like you're going to puke. I've seen you touch dirt. How can you plant Brussels sprouts but be so terrified of sand?" He looked as though he might actually cry, but I was happy when he didn't. "That ssssoil is c-contained. Kate Kate hhhhelped me understand that potting ssssoil could be w -washed off." "So can sand. Just think of it as potting soil." "But it didn't come out of a b-b-bag." I could have laughed at the statement, but there were very few things that were actually funny with Edward's little hang-ups. I wondered if his fucked-up dad beat him if he got dirty too. "So packaged dirt is different and okay, but sand on a beach is" He looked away, out to the ocean. "I know it d-d-d-doesn't mmmmake ssssense, but it's stillsssscary." We were both quiet for a while until finally Edward relaxed just slightly and asked, "D-d-do you know the D-D-Donner P-party?" Again with the random. "The people-eaters?" He nodded. "I'm not acquainted with them personally, but I know of them. Their story at least." "They w-w-were caught in the sssssnow. They trusted the w-w-wrong person. A gggguy w-w-wrote ab-bout a new p-passage to California in this b-book. He nnnever actually c-c-c-con-ctried the p-passage, so the ggggroup g-got sssstuck in mud. If they'd only g-g-gotten through the mud a d-day or t-two sssssooner, they w-would've b-been over the mountains b-before the ssssnow." I had no idea why he was talking about the Donner party. "If we get stuck in the snow and I die, you can eat me to stay alive." Hell, if I don't die, he could eat me because that sounded all kinds of fun. That thought deflated me because it forced me to think about stupid Jessica Stanley and her assertion that Edward was good at eating pussy. I must have looked depressed or something because Edward rubbed his sand-covered hand over the scar on my neck and asked, "W-what's w-wrong, Bella?" I had to smile at the care he took to say my name without stuttering. "Nothing." He raised one of his eyebrows at me. I had to decide if I wanted to say anything or not. I wanted today to be fun and not bring up all the shit from our pasts that we normally dwelled on. "Bella?" I drew my eyes back up to his. Maybe if I said something about my sexual past, it'd make me feel better about asking about his. But how the hell did I just bring up having sex with someone else out of the blue?

"B-Bella, you're w-w-worrying m-mmme." Shit. Fuck it. Fine. I'd asked. I felt like I had to know. Jessica had said a bunch of stuff that made no sense. "Jessica said you had a lot of stamina." His eyes went wide. It was understandable. I didn't have much practice at sugarcoating things. Edward looked away, his eyes fixing on some point in the horizon. "Thhhhat's b-because I c-c-c-couldn't.fffffffinish." His face reddened even more and it wasn't just from the cold wind. His head hung low. "Did you go down on her?" Edward shook his head furiously, but didn't look up at me. "N-n-nnnnnoooo." I wasn't surprised she lied. She seemed like the type. "Why did you have sex with her?" He wrapped his arms around his drawn legs, as he attempted to rest his chin on his knees, but they were sandy and it obviously bugged him. He started brushing off his knees again and then began to pick each grain of sand and flick it to the side. Finally he answered me. "I-I-I already t-t-told you." "To see if you were normal? But why wouldn't you be normal?" I already knew, but I had told him about Renee's boyfriend and he hadn't told me anything about his issues or whatever. It was only fair that he should tell me what the hell was going on with him. Instead of answering, Edward turned to me, his hands moving quickly to scoop me up and bring me to him. This was one time where I didn't straddle him. He picked me up and placed me on his lap. His mouth immediately moved to my neck. Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster for his terrific mouth. In the very short time we'd been making out, he'd learned my favorite spot and worked it like a master. I was completely aware that this was his attempt in making me forget about the question I posed. It was exactly the same tactic he used when I asked him about Christmas. He knew how to distract me. My mind warred with my body as to whether I would allow him to distract me or if I would press for the answer. If I was right and someone had fucked him when he was little, I would still like him. I wanted him to know that I still liked him. I wanted to make it better and I knew that I could. He moved his mouth up from my neck to my lips and he sucked on them as my hands moved to thread through his wild, wind-blown hair. I was hot despite the cold wind and instantly all of my thoughts centered on his hard dick pressing against the junction of my legs. How fucking hot would it be to fuck on this deserted beach? And in the dirty sand, no less. I didn't care about the cold. I'd gladly risk hypothermia and get wind-chapped nipples if it meant that something of Edward would be inside me. I rocked on top of him and heard his groan. I fucking loved that groan so I rocked again. And then

again. Normally, Edward would have stopped. Edward should've been stopping me at this point. But he wasn't. He wasn't because he was trying to get out of Oh, shit! One of his hands kept steady on my hip, but the other went up under my coat, under my shirt and under my bra. Fuck. I had to think. He was getting out of something by Holy fucking monkeys! His hand moved to the small of my back and he pressed me closer to him. I could feel his cock swell further. I was going to bang Edward on this cold-ass beach. But I didn't want to bang Edward. He was too pure for that. Maybe one day, but not His tongue swept out against my neck and I nearly melted. He was trying to get out of answering my question about being normal. My hands slipped from his hair and down to his shoulders. I pushed away, or at least tried to. He held me firm to him. I pushed at him again and his hand moved from my breasts. Letting my hands move down his arms, I brought his hands between us. "Did you think you weren't normal because someone?" My words trailed off as he pinched his eyes closed. His hands curled and I moved mine to cup his face. I didn't want him to be in pain like this, but somehow I felt it necessary to push him in this way. He tried to bring me back to him, but his closed eyes and fisted hands hindered his process. "Did" How the hell did I ask this question? Any way I asked it, it was going to sound hor rible. "Did your mom fuck" His eyes flew open and suddenly his hands were at my wrists, pulling them away from his face. They were tight around me. He forced my arms to cross at my chest and he pushed them into me. It hurt. I noted to myself that should I ever ask him something like again, I would not be touching him or be physically close at all. "Ow, Edward," I gasped. "That hurts." His teeth were clenched tight and his eyes were filled with hateful fire. "D-don't t-t-talk about m-m-my mmmmm-mmmmmom llllliiiike that. She llllllloved m-m-me. She d-d-d-didn't hhhhhhurt m-m-mmmmeever."

"Okay," I said quickly, hoping he would release me. "Ssssshe w" I watched as his cheeks ballooned out and he tried to push the word out, "wwwwwwwwouldn't do that." "Okay," I said again. "I'm sorry." I tried to keep my voice calm and even, but my arms were really starting to hurt. I tried to pull away, but I couldn't move my arms from my body. His grip was too tight. "Please let go." My eyes began to water. I'd been hurt worse, but I hated that he wasn't letting me move. "D-d-d-don't t-t-t-t" "Edward, please!" A tear slipped from my eye and his face changed as he followed its course down my cheek. His fingers loosened and he pulled my arms away from my body. I took the opportunity to wrench myself out of his hold and move off of him. I fought against the urge to run away from him. My mind raced but I tried to remember that Edward wouldn't hurt me on purpose. I shouldn't have suggested that his mother had done that to him. "I-I-I-I'm ssssssorry, B-B-B-Bella!" His chest was heaving and his body was shaking. We needed to get back to his car. He needed to warm back up. I stood up. He crumpled. "Don't go," he sobbed, unable to look up at me. Squatting down, I brought my forehead to his. "I'm not leaving you." He breathed in. "Just this spot. It's cold." "Don't hhhhhate me." I took his hands in mine. "I couldn't hate you, Edward." I placed a kiss on his forehead and pulled on his arms. "Let's go to the car, okay? I like this beach and all, but I'm getting hungry again. I'd hate to go all Donner Party on you, you know." During our car ride back to Forks, Edward and I talked about quite a lot of things. But mostly he apologized for hurting me and I assured him that I wasn't really hurt and that I was sorry for saying what I said about his mother. He gave me no further information on his sexual aversion, but I no longer questioned which sick fuck had hurt him like that. It hadn't been his mom. About two hours into the drive, when we pulled over to get gas, he turned his cell phone back on and cringed. "What?" "I hhhhave t-t-t-ten mmmmissed calls and eight t-t-texts." "You're going to be in trouble."

Edward nodded. "Hhhhe's b-been mmmmad at mmme sssince Allllice." "What do you mean?" How could Dr. Cullen be mad at Edward for whatever happened with Alice? "I r-removed her r-restraints and she hhhhhurt hhhherself." "Oh." Still, what Alice did to herself wasn't Edward's fault. Dr. Cullen was an ass if he took that shit out on Edward. "Mmmaybe he'll g-g-ground me," he said with a smile. Leaning back against his pretty silver car, I watched him pump the gas. I loved his smile even though it confused me. "And this makes you happy because?" "B-b-b-because b-before, hhhhe never let me do anything b-b-because he didn't think I could hhhhandle it. Nnnnow, it'll be because I deserve to b-be punished. I d-d-did something wrong." "Is Emmett in trouble for getting Rosalie pregnant?" "No." "Doesn't impregnating your girlfriend fall under the realm of 'wrong'?" "N-n-not to mention immoral and ssssinful." I had been playing with the zipper of my coat, but I stopped. "Why is making a baby sinful? I mean, I don't want to have babies myself, but Emmett and Rosalie seemsolid, you know?" Edward barely batted an eye at my question. He stopped pumping, shook the nozzle and then replaced it. He recapped the gas tank and shrugged. "Ssssex w-without mmmmarriage is a ssssin." I felt frozen because his words don't seem to make sense. On one hand, his father was super-religious, so I could see why he'd say that, but he'd had sex with Jessica Stanley and seemed like he was interested in having sex with me at some point. Edward confused the hell out of me. "So says your father, but they love each other, right?" I could see where he could think sex would be sinful, at least the sex I typically had, but Emmett and Rosalie seemed like they really loved each other. He shook his head. "I don't w-want to talk ab-bout it, Bella." I decided to let it go and return our discussion to his punishment. "If you're grounded, will I still be able to come over?" "They c-can't ssstop m-me from ssseeing you." He moved to get in the car, but I stopped him. "I know that I don't have a license or whatever, but since you're in your rebellious period, maybe you'd let me drive the rest of the way." He hesitated and looked from me to the car and back again. "Come on, it's a fucking Volvo, for fuck's sake! Even if I wrap us like a pretzel around a tree we'll still walk away."

He rolled his eyes and I swear it was absolutely the cutest thing I'd ever seen. "B-b-but don't get caaaaaaught." I took the keys from his hands and gave him my most charming smile. "It'll be okay. I know a police chief." ... "Why did you ask me about the Donner Party earlier?" I asked as I sat on my bed with Edward. One good thing about having an incompetent father was that I could do pretty much what I wanted, which was why I was on my bed behind a closed door with my boyfriend. "It wwwwas c-cold." "So how do you know about them?" He took my hand and smiled. "I read ab-bout them." I smiled back and shook my head. "Do you like reading about cannibalism?" "D-dark and t-tortured, right?" he asked, bring back one of our first conversations. I smiled remembering how few words we'd actually said to each other back then. "Yeah, but eating dead people is a little too dark and twisted for me." "They d-didn't all eat hhhhhhuman ffffflesh, Bella and they hhhhhad no other choice. It w-w-wasn't until everything else was g-gone and at mmmost they only ate it ffffor a month. Sssshould they have jjjust d-died?" I scrunched up my nose. "That's sick and I don't know how I feel about you knowing that shit." I was teasing him because in truth, I enjoyed him talking about anything and if he wanted to talk about shit like that, so be it. "Wwwwell, think ab-bout it, Bella. You've been hhhhungry when you were little, right? W-what if there hhhhhadn't been any food around? I looked at him for a long time, hoping to every god out there that he wasn't telling me this as some kind of way to let me know that he had actual experience with eating human flesh. I mean, I supposed if he had done that, I could deal with it, but I hoped to the FSM the boy hadn't ever "D-don't lllook at me liiiike that. I-I-I'm notI-I jjjjust find it ffffascinating what p-people will do to ssssurvive." He paused. "B-b-but I hhhhave eaten" I couldn't even let him get out the rest of his words before I covered my mouth with my hand, expected something nasty to escape his lips. My eyes narrowed as I recognized a mischievous gleam in his eye and his lopsided smile upon his lips. "I-I-I'm k-kidding, Bella. My d-d-d-d, ffffather was vvvery particular about food." Charlie knocked and informed us that Dr. Cullen had called several times, and that all of the adults thought it was time for Edward to go home. I wished him luck because I was pretty sure he'd get into a lot of trouble for disappearing for an entire day. When he left, I cleaned and thought about the Donner Party. What must it have been like to be stuck

up on a mountain, cold and hungry? And alone. Edward was right. People did lots of things to survive. I had, so I didn't have any right to judge those people who did what they needed to do in order to go on. I wondered if Edward was trying to say something about himself or if he was saying something about me. Even if I hadn't told him everything, I knew he could guess at it all. Or maybe he was just talking about something random. With Edward I never knew. I figured that whatever he was able to force out of his mouth was only a fraction of what went on in his brain. I hadn't cleaned in fucking forever. I gave up on Saturday night and spent the better part of Sunday morning thoroughly cleaning Charlie's house. Shit was just messy. Someone needed to show Charlie how to vacuum and clean the fucking toilet. How the hell had he survived this long without someone picking up after him? And what the hell did his girlfriend see in him? It was only after the house was damn near sparkling that I realized I hadn't heard from Edward. After I ate something to appease Charlie, I headed up to my room to see if Edward was online. ECullen123 had a green light by his name. Imabell: Hey! ECullen123: How is your morning? Imabell: Okay. I cleaned. Charlie doesn't seem to know how. What about you? Are you in trouble? ECullen123: Carlisle hates me. Imabell: I doubt that. Are you grounded? ECullen123: The only punishment was being lectured about how it feels to not know where someone is and so on and so forth. Everyone else can be out of their sight for long periods of time, even Alice who has been known to hurt herself, but when it's me, they go crazy with worry. Imabell: Yeah, it seems stupid. How is Alice anyway? ECullen123: Emmett said she's doing better, but he's an eternal optimist. She probably won't be home for Christmas. Imabell: Speaking of, you never answered my question.. Like I knew there would be, there was a long pause between my text and his. I imagined that he kept deleting because the messenger told me that he was typing. Imabell: Why is that hard for you to answer? ECullen123: I don't like thinking about it. Everyone I know loves Christmas and everything about it and I don't. Imabell: I gathered that, but why?

ECullen123: You should come over today. Do you want to come over? Imabell: If you want to talk about Christmas in person, then sure, but your whole avoidance thing isn't working. You need to get better at it. I bet Dr. Hale can see right through your techniques. ECullen123: I'm not trying to be sneaky about it. I'm blatantly avoiding your questions about Christmas and I know you'll respect that. Smiling was unavoidable. I loved Edward's straightforwardness. It was sort of like my own, but it manifested itself in a different way. Edward was nothing short of awesome. Imabell: I'll come over if you pick me up. Can I drive again? ECullen123: You're just using me for the Volvo, aren't you? Our whole friendship was based on a desire to get to know my soccer-mom vehicle, wasn't it? Alice has a Porsche she's not using right now. Imabell: I like the Volvo, it's nice and safe. After what happened last time, I need a safe car. ECullen123: Will you tell me about that? Imabell: If you tell me about Christmas. ECullen123: You drive a hard bargain. Imabell: Is that a yes? ECullen123: It's a maybe. ... We sat on his floor. My legs were crossed and his feet were bare. "P-put your ffffingers here and here." His fingers placed mine where he wanted them and then he ran his thumbs over the strings. "D-do you hear that? That's an A." It was my turn to strum the guitar and the sound came out the same. I didn't know how it came about that he teaching me guitar, but here we were. "A-and this," he said as he moved my fingers on the neck again, "is a C. C is your fffriend." While I enjoyed every moment with Edward, I didn't really care to learn the guitar, though it did help me to be physically close to him while having an obstruction between us, keeping me from pouncing on him. As much as I loved listening to Edward, my mind wandered as he placed my fingers on the strings and told me the names of the various chords. I had come over here with the sole purpose of getting him to tell me about Christmas and I knew that he wanted to know why I stole the car. I really, really didn't want to tell him. It was weird and foreign to say things like that out loud. I wasn't used to it. I knew that somewhere in the world there were people who looked out for little girls, but none of them were in my world. Either I was a really good liar or most people who ever came into contact with me really just didn't give a shit. But now with Edward, it was impossible for me not to share these things with him. He wanted to know

and more surprising than that; I wanted to tell him. It made no sense. How did someone want to tell someone something and not want to tell them at the same time? This was truly fucked. It was a proven fact that Edward saved me from stuff and somewhere inside of me, I felt like maybe if I told him more shit, he could save me from that too. Right after he rearranged my middle and ring finger, I just started talking. If I waited, I would never speak and if I never spoke, he would never speak either. "I stole the blue car because Renee took him back." My eyes were fixed on Edward's nice-looking toes. I watched them curl as I heard his hands drop into his lap. "I was in the shower and when I pulled the curtain back" Look at you, all grown up, but you're still so beautiful. "I didn't know why she would take him back. She was so mad at him, not because he did that with me, but because he was with anyone other than her." Don't worry. Your mother went to pick up dinner. I missed my dirty girl. "I wasfrozen because I thought he was gone. It'd been years and he" Show me, Bella. Show me you haven't forgotten how to be my dirty girl. I felt so sick saying the words. I felt weak at remembering him standing in the bathroom, his eyes looking at my naked, dripping body up and down. No matter how many guys I had sex with since him I felt so young and fragile underneath his stare. No matter how hard I had fought against the memories of him, of what he had done, of what he had made me do, he was back for real and just the way he looked at me forced me back into the role of his dirty girl. My body reacted instinctually. I hated it, but I knew that he was going to do what he wanted whether or not my body was prepared. "My mom was gone and it was just us. I knew how mean he could be and I didn't want him to hurt me, but he" I stopped. My eyes moved from Edward's curled toes to his fisted hands. I missed you. Oh, fuck, you are so dirty! "So afterwhen my mom was back and they were eating dinner, I left. I couldn't find the keys to Renee's piece of shit, so I had no other choice but to borrow my neighbor's car. She'd loaned it to me before. I just didn't have the time to ask her." "Y-y-y-you w-w-w-were rrrrrrrunning aw-way?" I could tell how agitated he was by how badly he stuttered. I felt bad unloading this onto him, but he'd asked and now I needed him to know.

"This dude I got weed from had lots of guns and he'd told me that if I needed one I could borrow it. He knew Renee was a bitch, not that I told him or anything. But then the highway was so freeing. I felt like I could But I was distracted and" "W-w-w-was the g-g-gggggun ffffor y-y-you or fffffor hhhhhhim?" I knew what he was asking and the honest answer was that it hadn't mattered at the time. One way or the other that fucker wasn't going to touch me again. "I tried to just keep driving. I could've been in California by morning or so. I could've lived on the beach. Then I thought if I could just keep going northwest, I'd find my dCharlie, but I was going really fast and I was thinking about other things and I didn't see that truck or all the brake lights of the cars ahead." Edward's knuckles were white and I focused on the healed cuts on his hands and the bluish-green bruises. "No one at the hospital asked where I was going and they assumed that I'd been injured in the crash. Then Renee showed up and told a bunch of lies like always, and the policethey justI mean they just didn't care enough to ask the right questions. I was arrested." I sighed and let my eyes travel up to Edward's tight jaw. "But it was a solid five days away from Renee's house. That wasa relief." "W-w-was the gggggun fffffor?" Edward's lips were nearly perfect, but I hated how they were set in a frown and how that frown was because of me. "I justI just wanted him to stop and he wasn't ever going to and who knew what Renee would do if sheif she found" I couldn't go on. I knew Edward could fill in the blanks. I couldn't stand to think the thoughts in my head and there were no words to adequately address those thoughts, even if I could have forced them from my lips. I love your mouth, Bella. Show me how much you've missed me. That day in the shower, I should have tried to get away. I was older than before. I was bigger. He was obviously still bigger than I was, but I could have kneed him in the nuts. I could have scratched his face. I could have There were so many things that I could have done, but I was fairly certain that it would have ended with me being hurt even more. Just like Edward said, it was amazing what people could do to survive. He'd stood there looking at me in the shower. All he had to do was tell me how much he missed my mouth and my knees buckled. I found myself doing all of the same things I told myself I would never be forced to do again. It wasn't like I hadn't given head in his absence, but I hadn't been forced to. He started out nicer than I remembered, but then, like always, he ended up mean and I ended up hurt. Edward's question about who the gun was for forced me to remember how I felt that day. I knew there was a chance that I wouldn't be able to kill him. As I drove to my dealer's house, I realized that the only other way to get him to stop was to end my availability to him.

He couldn't fuck me again if I was dead. So the plan had been to get the gun, go home, and see what happened. I was going to see which option would win out. Then I realized that I could just keep driving and never go back. Renee wouldn't have missed me. No one at school would have cared. Then I saw the truck spin-out in front of me and I rear-ended that Lexus. "Bella?" My eyes moved from his jaw and lips to his eyes. Just as I began to feel comfortable with the weight of them, I saw his hand move in my periphery and I flinched back. "Don't." His hand dropped back down into his lap again. I didn't want to be touched right now, even if it was the comforting hand of Edward. "I'm sorry," I whispered as I clutched the guitar closer to my chest. After a few moments of me going back to staring at his long toes, Edward broke the silence. "C-can I hhhhold you, Bella?" Although my brain shouted out that I didn't want to be touched, my body told my brain that it longed for Edward's arms and ached for his heat. Slowly I put the guitar to the side and shifted my body until I was against him. His arms moved around me in a tender and cautious way. He rested his chin on my shoulder and I drank him into me. We sat like that for a while until I felt better about having shared my story with him. I remembered that he said he would tell me about Christmas, or at least that maybe he would. I hoped that my sharing would help him feel comfortable enough to give me another little clue about who he was and how he ended up here. "Tell me about Christmas." He took a deep breath and my body moved with the slow rise and fall of his chest. I hated this shit. I hated that we couldn't just be like all the other kids in the world. I hated that instead of thinking about what our parents were going to get us for Christmas, we were thinking about what it was like to be powerless and afraid. "I d-don't know hhhhow I ffffeel about Ch-Ch-Christmas. It w-w-was the one t-time of the year w-when my d-d-d-d, ffffffather allowed m-m-mmmmmmusic. I alw-w-w-ways liiiiiked hhhearing the sssssongs of p-p-p-p-praise." One time of year he was allowed to listen to music? For Christ's sake! Edward was a fucking musical being! I'd never known someone who knew as much about music or had as many songs on their iPod as Edward did, not to mention that he could play just about anything and make it beautiful. I hated his father even more now.

"But it is alssssssso a t-t-t-time of Sssssssalvation." He didn't continue right away so I asked, "Like for your soul or whatever?" I knew next to nothing about the Christian religion in general and I knew even less about whatever fucked-up version his father subscribed to. When he didn't answer, I turned in his arms and studied him hard, noting his mixed expression and far-off eyes. He could've meant anything, but I knew from the spots of darkness in his eyes that it had something to do with his mother. When I realized that Edward had only ever spoken about her death and never about her, the realization hit me like a fist in the belly. I put two and two together and remembered that Edward had said that maybe ending her life was his mother's salvation. If he thought Christmas was a time of salvation and wasn't sure how he felt about it, then there was a good chance that it was all linked. In fact, I was sure of it. I put my hands on either side of his face and positioned his head so that he would have to look into my eyes. His were lost and looked more than a little like they were dying. "Did your mom do that shit at Christmas?" His reply was slow in coming. "Yes." Dear gods in heaven. My heart sank at his confirmation. What kind of woman did that? Who the fuck could go before their son during the fucking 'happiest time of the year' and blow their fucking brains out in front of him? "Did she do it on Christmas?" He shook his head and shifted his eyes away from me. "T-t-two d-d-d-days b-b-b-b-b" "Two days before?" I clarified when he couldn't finish. His eyes closed and his head fell forward in my hold. I pressed my forehead to his and felt the warmth of tears trail down my eyes. It was strange that I could cry for him when I had such a hard time crying for myself. I didn't know what to do. I had no experience helping others with heavy shit like this. It felt like a good time to get high. "Truly my soul waiteth upon God: from Him cometh my salvation. He only is my rock and my salvation; He is my defense; I shall not be greatly moved." Fuck. I hated those motherfucking bible quotes. They weren't right and they weren't fucking normal and although his voice was beautiful, I hated the words. And yet, I had no words to offer back to him. I had nothing within me to even begin to combat the damage within him. "I-I-I d-d-don't hhhhhave a ssssssoul t-to give to the LLLLLord, B-B-Bella." I pulled away, searching his face for some kind of answer to the millions of questions I wanted to ask. I found nothing except a blank expression and dull eyes.

"I w-w-w-won't ever be ssssssaved." "What? How do you not" His voice was but a whisper when he answered me. "Hhhhhe ssssaid my m-m-m-mmmmmother t-t-took it w-w-with her, b-but I know the t-t-t-truth." "What's the truth?" I asked quietly. His eyes closed and again he pressed his forehead to mine. "I w-w-was b-b-born w-w-without one." I hadn't ever stopped to think about my own philosophy about souls, but of all the people in the world to think they were soulless, Edward shouldn't have been one of them. How could he be so beautiful without a soul? "No, baby," I said, once again cupping his face in my hands. Then I remembered and called him by his name. "Edward, you have a soul. I can see it." He shook his head. "You're wrong." "Well then take mine. I don't want it." When his hands moved to my arms, trailing down from my wrists to my elbows, I whispered, "If you don't have a soul, I don't have a soul." His hands were on my hips as I sat on my knees in front of him; then his mouth attached to mine. At first, his lips moved slowly against them but then the need seemed to build. While I needed him too, I let him control it all. I was not about to push my will onto him. But I also didn't stop it when his hands tightened on my hips and he pulled me onto him. His moist breath was on my neck and I ducked my head just a little in order to breathe him in. Maybe if I pressed myself closer to him, he would be inside of me, and I didn't mean just his boy-bits, but his whole self. Maybe if he were absolutely as close to me as possible, all of his pain could transfer into me. I would rather feel the pain of a hundred Edwards than have him suffer a moment more. Even as his mouth attached itself to my neck, sucking and licking at my scar, my thoughts were on how I could ever take the pain away. As his hands moved under my shirt, my sole focus was on how to make him whole and glue his broken pieces together. But when his arms tightened around my back and drove me harder into him, my only thought was how I could get his incredibly hard dick out of his pants and into some part of me. I rocked on top of him as I held his head to my neck. I moaned as the seam of my jeans shifted between my legs, essentially flicking my clitoris like a tongue. I imagined it to be Edward's tongue and my grip tightened. I swore that he growled just a little when my legs managed to wrap around his hips. I was draped on him and he wasn't stopping me. His mouth spurred me on. His hands cupped my ass and pulled me even closer. Fuck me, Edward was hot. I wanted him.

I wanted all of him, not just his hard parts. I wanted those soft little pieces that could get hurt from just a careless word. Those little pieces needed protecting and I could do that. His hands were at the front of my purple shirt now, popping the buttons and peeling it away. I grabbed at the bottom of his and tugged it up. I needed his skin against mine. He was clumsy about removing my bra. He hadn't had much practice and I loved every fumbling second of it. Edward's mouth sucked on my chin and as strange as it was, it could have been the most erotic thing I'd ever experienced in my life. Finally my naked breasts were pressed against his bare chest. My hands glided over his unsmooth back and he did not stop his mouth's movements. I probably should have stopped him myself. There probably should have been something in my head, telling me he was only doing this because he was emotional and upset. I should have thought he would hate himself for this later, but the only thing I could do was let myself feel him. He moved me back until I was against the carpet and he was on top of me. His hands were everywhere but I couldn't pinpoint their whereabouts until they moved to another part of my body. Edward never broke the contact of his mouth on my skin. He took one breast into his hand and the other into his mouth. My back arched and of their own accord, my legs moved upwards to find his hips again, but he was quick and avoided being trapped by them. Edward needed to be in control of this and he was doing a fucking fantastic job. I fucking needed him in a way that I had never needed anything else. It was as if I only had a moment to enjoy the simple pleasure of his mouth on my breast because before I knew it, his hands unbuttoned my jeans and pulled the zipper down slowly. Oh. My. God. My jeans were pulled down past my hips to my knees and I had never been so happy to hate panties in all my life. Edward was on his side next to me, his head pillowed on his bicep, his mouth against mine. His hand was between my legs and my breathing felt out of control. I could focus on nothing but the sensation his fingers, his beautiful musician's fingers, were creating. While he didn't fumble as much as he had with my bra, it was obvious that he was inexperienced. But his inexperience was sexy and his fingers were deft and felt wonderful inside of me as his thumb strummed my clitoris like the strings of a guitar. His rhythm was impeccable. It had been so fucking long since anything other than my own hand had brought these kinds of sensations. The fact that it was Edward, my shy, sexually-repressed Edward, doing these things caused a flurry of excitement within me. Whether he meant to or not, he built up the sensations until my body couldn't bear it anymore. I came, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth as I did.

When I could finally open my eyes to look at him, I wondered if he wanted something in return. I was more than eager to get my hands on him, but I didn't want to rush him. I didn't want to do anything that would upset him. As if he could read my mind, he shook his head just slightly as he pulled his hand away from my body. I rolled onto my side to face him. I didn't care that my pants were still bunched at my knees. I let my eyes lock with his as I cupped his face once more. "W-w-w-w" I stroked his cheek with my thumb, hoping to relax him. "W-w-w-was that o-o-o-okay?" I smiled at him, amazed that his shy, embarrassed and insecure nature could come back after something as brilliant as that. "Did I not just explode all over your hand?" His brow creased and the question stayed in his eyes. I would have to tell him. He needed to hear that he had done a good job. "Yes, Edward. That was wonderful." I had to hand it to him; he was fucking brilliant at distracting me and avoiding issues. His beautiful lopsided smiled owned every bit of me, but the thought in my head scared the shit out of me. I loved this boy. ...

Chapter 48: I'm the Arrow Bella I was at the stove in Charlie's house, using the wooden utensil to push around my sauting Brussels sprouts. I wasn't cooking anything else. Just Brussels sprouts. I didn't remember why. They smelled good and my stomach growled. Despite not being able to keep much food in my belly, I was hungry for the first time in months. I felt like I was in a hurry. Looking down at the pan, I knew that I had put a little too much olive oil in it. It spurted and crackled and a little wayward pop landed on my wrist. It stung, but not in any kind of lasting way. Being burned and cut were just facts of life when one cooked a lot. Still, the tiny jolt of pain snapped me out of my lingering fog I and again I wondered why I was only cooking Brussels sprouts. Charlie didn't even like them. Just before I was going to set the utensil down on the spoon rest, I felt a presence behind me and as usual, I bristled. There were hands on my hips and the scent of earthy oranges filled my nose. I relaxed. Without having to turn around, I knew it was Edward.

I loved that he felt comfortable enough to press his chest against my back and that I, in return, felt comfortable enough to relax into his hold. I smiled at he slid his face next to mine and rested his chin on my shoulder. He hadn't shaved and the sensation of the scruff against my smooth skin sent shivers through me. My feelings and emotions about Edward were confusing. I'd never really loved anything before. It was frightening and new. I worried about what it meant and what kind of power that gave him. His arms moved and encompassed my waist. He drew me back against him and my eyes fell closed. While my feelings for him were confusing, the sensations he created in my body were easy to understand. Every single cell, every single drop of my blood sung for him in a way that I couldn't ignore. My fantasies about him were usually very pure and mostly about simple pleasures like lips on necks and hands trailing down arms, but then there were others His breath in my ear made my knees threaten to give out. His hands moved, one down and one up; his right covered my left breast as his left trailed down below my navel. Though I was clothed, it felt like skin-on-skin contact. When his hand cupped me between my legs, I stiffened because it was such a bold move for him. It usually took Edward a solid fifteen minutes of fucking around before he could touch me there and even then, he didn't do it too often. I tried to regain my comfort. This was what I wanted from him; to share this type of physical intimacy. But my body was tight and on edge. It felt as though I had goose-pimples. "What's the matter? Don't you love me, dirty girl?" My breath caught. My eyes flew open. I sat up straight in my bed. Glancing around quickly, it took my tired mind a moment before it realized that it was only half past three in the morning and I wasn't cooking Brussels sprouts. I wasn't in the kitchen and Edward wasn't calling me a dirty girl. It was a dream. A motherfucking dream. I reminded myself why I didn't sleep at night. It was so much better to wait until there was noise to keep me from going into a deep sleep. It was so much better to wait until I was around Edward. I shivered, even though I was wrapped in heavy blankets. It was just a dream. And that wasn't Edward.

... "Damn," I said through chattering teeth., "this is motherfucking cold." "Thisssss w-w-w-was your idea," Edward shot back with a smile on his face. "Keep me warm." I moved into his arms and looked out at the silent playground. We were sitting at the very top of a fort made of recycled plastic. To my left was a big steering wheel and to my right a fireman's pole. Edward's hold tightened around me. "This is better than Charlie's house or yours, even if it's fucking freezing." Just a little snow remained in patches on the ground, and the cold winter breeze made the kiddie swings sway back and forth. Despite Edward's assertion that Dr. Cullen hated him, he'd been allowed to leave his house with me. He just had to promise not to leave the city. We weren't technically breaking any rules since we were at the farthest point of the town limits. There just happened to be a playground here. I made him stop the car immediately. The original plan had been to just drive around, but I loved playgrounds. When I had needed to get out of Renee's house, I would walk down to the park and watch the little kids play. I imagined that I was one of them and their parents were my own. Some days I would sit there in the hot Phoenix sun all day until it set and I had to go back and face the reality that those perfect parents with their smiles and hugs didn't belong to me. Apart from that, when I was younger, I loved playing on the equipment. I didn't like the teeter-totter since that required someone else. I loved the monkey bars and used to push all the other little girls with their stupid pigtails to the ground. Bitches crowded the one thing I liked doing and that was to swing upside down. I used to love looking at the world like that. "Did you get to play at the playground when you were little?" For some people that might have been a dumb question, but with Edward and his strict father, it was logical to ask. "N-no." I turned in his hold and was happy to see his face, even if it wasn't a happy expression he wore. "Not even at recess?" He shook his head. "No." "What did you do at recess then?" Edward sniffed, his red nose scrunching up. "I sssssat by the fffffence and w-waited to g-g-go back in." "Why?" "The other k-k-k-kids w-w-wouldn't p-p-play with us." By 'us,' I assumed he meant him and his brother, but I knew Edward didn't like talking about him, so I didn't ask. I still didn't even know his name. "Why? Because of your stutter?" Did other kids really care that much about how he spoke? "Did your

dad" "They thought w-we w-w-were wwwwweird. They w-were right. W-we d-d-didn't have nnnnice c-c-clothes and w-we nnnnnever p-p-par-t-ticipated in the p-parties they hhhhad at school." It was either the cold or the subject matter that had him stammering as bad as when we first met. I had to focus. "Like for Valentine's Day and Halloween?" "Yes." "So you didn't have any friends?" He shook his head and I turned around and faced forward. "Weren't you lonely?" "Yes." I was a lonely child too. Nothing alienated a little kid more than having a secret that people would freak out over. There were children at school I played with until I was eleven, but after that it was just easier not to associate. I became resentful of those girls who didn't go home and get knocked into walls or woken up by men in the middle of the night. I thought about the picture of Edward and his family, and wished that he'd had friends. I thought that having a brother would have been like having a friend, but it didn't seem that way for him. Despite his reaction the last time I asked him about it, I couldn't help but voice the question bouncing around in my head. "What's your brother's name?" Even through our heavy coats, I felt his body tense. I hoped he wouldn't react badly. I wasn't asking for detailsyet. I just wanted to know his name. "J-J-J-JJJJJJJJJoseph." Edward was my boyfriend and I'd pretty much revealed everything there was to know about me, but he kept certain things locked up inside of him. It wasn't that I thought because I chose to share that he should too, but I desperately wanted to get to the bottom of who he really was.. His voice had been locked most of his life, not by choice, but by his body's failure to function like everyone else's. It seemed as though now that he had someone like me to talk to, it would be a shame for him not to unlock the things that haunted him. I hoped that he felt comfortable enough talking to me. I hoped he knew that I wouldn't make fun of his stutter or of anything he verbalized. I hoped he knew that I was in his life by choice now, not because some doctor paired us up for therapy. "Why won't you talk about him?" Edward didn't answer, but I couldn't feel him panicking either. Maybe he was lost in thought. If I turned around, I'd be able to tell, but for whatever reason, I felt as though he needed the mental space and that my eyes on him wouldn't help whatever process he was going through. When silence continued to loom, I tried to draw him back to me, hoping he wasn't stuck somewhere inside of his head. "Edward?" "I-I-I d-d-don't w-w-want to t-t-t-t-talk ab-bout him."

That was annoying. I fought against my anger because Edward didn't have to talk about anything to me and it hadn't been our intention to come out here and talk about the shit that weighed us down. We had just wanted to have a bit of fun away from everyone else. Just a little time to be free. I guess if I was being honest, Edward's refusal to let me in on this subject did kind of piss me off because our whole relationship has been based on him pushing me to give him answers he had no real right to know, and I would give them. I never pushed. Even now I was asking, not pushing and I would let it go. But it wasn't fair. I was going to keep asking questions that made him at least slightly uncomfortable until he gave me something. "Is your dad dead?" I don't know why I asked that particular question. Maybe it was wishful thinking. "N-no." He took a breath. "At llllleast n-not that I kn-know of. I w-w-would think C-C-Carlisle wwwwould t-tell me i-i-i-if my fffffffather d-died." "Do you want him to be dead? Because I want him to be dead." "It w-wouldn't change w-w-who he www-was and w-w-what he did." Again, silence hung over us. I was content because he'd answered me. He wasn't avoiding everything. At least I knew his brother's name now, so maybe he'd say more in the future. "Want to go swing?" "I-i-it's really c-c-cold, Bella." "Well, it's a good thing I'm not making you go down that cold-ass metal slide then, Edward." ... "And then she said that I hadn't really made any progress because instead of throwing up five hundred calories, I got on the elliptical and burned nine hundred," Angela whined before bringing the water cupped in her hands to her mouth. She'd just finished throwing up her lunch and brushing her teeth. I was trying to do better at being a friend, but unfortunately that meant listening to her gag herself until she puked. Angela looked fairly bad. Her skin was sort of gray and her hair was looking dry and falling out. Something in my gut told me that she would be getting sick, like really sick, very soon. As much as I thought people should be able to do whatever they wanted to themselves, I didn't want her to get herself into the hospital or worse. Angela was on the edge of becoming not only a figurative skeleton, but an actual one. "I mean, what the hell am I supposed to do?" she asked after she spit into the sink. "Eat something and let your body metabolize it." She looked at me through the mirror, her eyes narrowed. When she turned around to face me, her arms were crossed over her chest and she looked betrayed and pissed. "Don't be on her side." I rolled my eyes and shifted my back pack. "I'm not on Hale's side. I'm on your side and you

lookbad." Her eyes widened and she looked at herself in the mirror, turning to the side, her hands smoothing down her body. "You don't look fat, Ang," I clarified, "you look sick." "There's not much you can say since you're what? Ninety-five pounds yourself?" I sighed. She had a point. "That's different. My stomach's been wonky." She was quiet before picking up her messenger bag and straightening out her shirt, pulling it down over her hips as far as it would go. "Ben thinks I'm too skinny. Do you think I'm too skinny?" What the fuck? Were we not just having this exact conversation? Had she not just gotten pissy with me because I said she didn't look healthy? "Yes." "Oh my God! Did you hear?" Obviously she was changing the subject and honestly, I was thankful. "Hear what?" "The Newtons are sending Mike to private school in Port Angeles." My heart tightened a little at his name. "What?" "Yeah, I guess after Christmas break or whatever. They don't want little Mikey to keep getting picked on. Isn't that just hilarious?" I fought back thoughts about Lauren's bathroom and the feel of Mike on top of me. My stomach flipped as his words of 'I told you,' echoed through my mind. "Hilarious," I repeated, my voice lifeless. "He's made everyone feel like crap since the second grade and now he runs home and cries because karma kicked him in the junk." My eyes were focus on the tiled floor. "You must have been totally wasted to have sex with him at that party." Bile rose into my esophagus and I dropped my bag and practically sprinted into the stall Angela had just emerged from moments ago. It was my turn to empty my lunch. When I was finished, Angela eyed me cautiously. "Now who looks sick?" I rinsed my mouth out. Being a friend was stupid. People were stupid with their defense mechanisms. I had been trying to help Angela and now she was giving me shit because she thought I was fucking with her method of control. I stood up straight and glared at her. "Did you ever even ask if I fucked Mike Newton?" I had no honest idea what really happened that night, but my gut feeling was that drunk or not, I would have never screwed Mike by choice. Not only did I not find him attractive, but he was a dick to everyone, and Edward in particular. I would have never been interested, especially considering my feelings for Edward. It pissed me off that people thought I'd had sex with him simply because he said I did.

I knew I wasn't chaste or virginal and that the whole school knew that. It was my own fault and in the past, I never cared what anyone thought, but this felt different. I don't think I would've chosen to fuck Mike and his crooked penis. The thought made me want to vomit again. I left the bathroom as quickly as possible and found Edward waiting for me in the hall. He gave me his lopsided smile, but it faded. He knew something wasn't right. I pressed my head against his chest and his arms moved to encompass my body. "I want to get high." I didn't look at him when I pulled away, but grabbed his hand. "Can we go out to your car and just listen to some music? I don't want to go to Biology." Edward obliged me and I felt better just being able to relax. He chose soothing music and at some point I closed my eyes and fell asleep. ... "Isabella." My feet halted half-way up the stairs. I turned around and found Charlie looking up at me. "What?" "We need to talk." For whatever reason, my heart started beating hard and fast and I instantly felt like I was in trouble. Like I was back in Phoenix and Renee was on one of her rampages. I swallowed hard and glanced up the stairs to my room. "Um, I havehomework." "It can wait. Dr. Hale said I was supposed to talk to you as soon as I saw you." My shoulders slumped. If he was taking direction from Hale, it must be something bad. Slowly, I moved back down to the first floor and followed him to the kitchen. He motioned to the table and I took a seat. I was uncomfortable. I felt ill. While he hadn't smacked me since my first week here, there was a part of me that was just waiting for it. I knew he had apologized, just like I knew that he was a decent person, but still Being alone in a confined space was a little frightening. I knew all of it wasn't his fault. In fact a lot of it wasn't, but I was still ill-at-ease. "Bella, we have to talk about school." He took a seat across from me. My hands folded together tightly in my lap and my brow creased. "What about school?" I asked when I found my voice. "I had to speak to the counselor and the principal today. They gave me your report card." Charlie paused and slid a piece of paper toward me. I couldn't help but lean away from his hand. When my grades were in front of me, I cringed. I knew that I wasn't doing as well as I normally did, but I had no idea that I was failing Spanish and English, typically two of my best subjects. I was barely hanging on in Biology and Calc. P.E. was a joke and my grade reflected that. About the only class I was doing well in was Photography.

"Your teachers say you sleep all day." I pushed the paper away. "So?" Charlie gave me a hard look and I wished I could've just told him I was sorry, and that I knew I was fucking up, but the words wouldn't come and I was stuck feigning annoyed anger. "You're going to fail your junior year if you keep this up. I'm sure you don't want to repeat the grade and I sure as hell don't want to tell that judge in Phoenix that you're failing." "You can tell the judge to go fuck himself. I don't need" "Isabella Marie Swan!" My mouth snapped closed and a shiver ran through me. "Your grades are unacceptable. I know you think that everything's a big joke but it's not. That judge can take you away in a second. You could be sent to a 'special school,' whatever the hell that is!" The threat of being taken away from Forks, from Charlie's house, from Edward, and from the only sense of safety I'd ever felt in my entire life caused a stirring within me. I felt like I couldn't breathe. My stomach churned as I thought of going to live with girls who were fucked-up like I was. I didn't want that. I wanted to stay here and be with Edward. "I know things aredifficult, Bunny, but" I stiffened. "Why'd you call me that?" He blinked. "Your Grandma Marie used to call you that all the time, but when I would say it," his mouth slid into a smile, "you used to giggle." I looked at the table and then out of the window. "I don't remember that." "Yeah," he said with a sigh. "I don't think you remember a lot of things." I looked up. "Like what?" "We used to have fun when you came to visit, you know? When you were real little, we'd play Hide and Seek and you'd make me chase you around the yard for hours. Then when you were nine or ten and too old for all that, we'd go to Seattle and spend all day looking at those seals or sea lions or whatever they were, and buying books." "I don't remember that." Again, he sighed. "You have to get your grades up, okay? I know you can'thelp what you're going through and I'm not much help either, but we have to figure this out. I don't think I could stand to see you go away again." The reminder that I could be taken from here caused my eyes to tear up. "I can't sleep at night," I whispered. "And when you do, you wake up screaming, I know. This isn't your fault, Bella, but we have to fix it." I nodded. "I'll do better."

"Do you understand the importance of" I grit my teeth. I didn't need him to talk down to me about the shit. I already felt bad about it. "Yes, Charlie. I said I'd get my fucking grades up, okay?" My emotions were all over the place and I couldn't help it. "I'm just trying to help you." I rolled my eyes as I pushed away from the table and stood up. "You and everyone else." But just like everyone else, he was a little too late to really help me. Since meeting Edward, I'd been feeling there was something left inside of me worth saving, but then things like this dropped from the sky and I wondered why the fuck I cared, or even tried. While I was annoyed and upset, I felt desperate to know the things I had forgotten, so I made myself stop and ask, "Why Bunny?" "When you were real small, when you just became mobile, crawling everywhere, you liked to bouncelike a bunny." He paused. "Grandma Marie loved you a lot. She was heartbroken when your mother took you." ... It was the last day of school before Christmas break and school went smoothly. I did my best to stay awake during my classes. I asked Ms. Goff and Mr. Berty what I needed to do in order to save myself from failing their classes. The answer involved a lot of participation and extra-credit crap. I was so fucking tired, but I had no other choice but to push myself to do what needed to be done. In September, I would be eighteen and I could drop out if I wanted to, but I didn't want that. Staying with Charlie wasn't all that bad and I didn't want to be the idiot drop-out girlfriend of a genius like Edward. It would have been horrible to be introduced to someone at his college and end up telling them I worked at IHOP for $2.25 an hour. I still had no real drive to go to college, but Edward was going and I wanted to be with him, so I needed to graduate high school do that. I didn't think I'd get into Stanford or Yale or any other school he applied for, nor could I afford it, but I could go to a junior college in the area. I knew he wanted me to go to Culinary School and that was still an option, but I was unsure. Would working in a kitchen be something I could do? I knew kids in Phoenix who worked in restaurants and those people liked to party. I wasn't sure if I could stay away from all the shit I needed to stay away from if my job was in a kitchen full of those kinds of people. Dr. Hale decided to give me the night off of therapy, which I was thrilled about, but Edward still had to see his guy. I hadn't talked to Jacob in a while and I found myself sitting next to him at the grand piano laughing at some joke about two polar bears and a Chihuahua. Leah and Seth had been in the room with us, but for whatever reason, they left and it was just us. It was going just fine, and I hadn't felt any weirdness until he pushed my hair back and said that he'd missed me. I flinched at the action, but recovered quickly. To be honest, I'd missed him too. It wasn't that I just missed his pot, because while I still had urges to smoke a lot, the pot wasn't the best part about Jacob. He'd always done what he could to take care of me without taking care of me. It was difficult to explain. He was just so casual and calm. He was

familiar and comforting in a way that Edward wasn't. With Edward, I felt like I needed to work hard at everything. I needed to be better for him, perfect, maybe. But with Jake it was different. I felt like no matter how fucked-up I was, he would accept it. I didn't have to worry about causing a panic attack and we didn't always have the heavy shit between us that Edward and I did. "I missed you too," I said back to him, then scooted away, "but you can't touch me like that. I'm not your girlfriend." I could see his jaw tighten and he let out a huff of air. He turned his face away from me. It took a moment, but he turned back and gave me his best Jake-smile and I returned it. "My dad says hello." "Hello, Jake's dad." The smile widened. "He said that Charlie was going to be over at Sue's next week." I shrugged. "She has a party every year and gets everyone stupid gifts. Last year she got me this wolf keychain." He shook his head. "Apparently I liked dogs when I was a kid or something, but it was nice." "She's nice," I said in agreement. "Are you going to go?" Sue had invited me, but I wanted to spend as much of the break with Edward as I could, so I declined. "No." He nudged me with his shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun and we can" "I'm hanging out with Edward." Suddenly Jacob was up and several feet away from me. "I can't fucking do this with you." "Do what?" "Be your friend and shit when you're all wrapped up in Edward." I didn't really know how to respond. I wished we could've just returned to the easy relationship we'd had, minus the pot and sex. "You can't be my friend because I have a boyfriend?" "I can't be anything to you when you can't see past your boyfriend. You don't do anything that doesn't involve Cullen anymore." "Jake, I can't smoke with you because" He shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I don't give a shit about smoking. Do you hang out with anyone but him anymore?" "No." But I never hung out with anyone but Edward before either, so I didn't see his point. "I don't want to hang out with anyone else." He looked wounded and I felt lost. I didn't understand what the hell was happening or what the hell he was talking about, but it felt ridiculous.

"I love you, Bella." I froze as he continually rubbed his palms over his thighs. What the fuck was I supposed to do or say to that? He knew how I felt about this. I didn't think I could tell him one more time that I didn't feel like that about him. Up until a few days ago, I questioned whether I could feel it for anyone, but I knew without a doubt that Jacob would only ever be a friend. It hurt me to know that he was so stuck on wanting more. It hurt to know that we probably wouldn't be able to get past thisever. "I can't" I stood up, trying to think quickly. How the hell could I make this better? I felt incredibly responsible. No matter how many times I'd told him that we'd never be more than fuck-buddies, I felt as though I had fostered his feelings for me, given him hope or something. I didn't want him to hurt. I didn't want to be the cause of his pain. I took his hand. "I You're my friend, probably my oldest friend, you know? Don'tdon't make me say it again." "I love you. I can't help it, as much as I've tried to and you don't evenit's like he's all you see." "Jacob." My voice sounded like it belonged to someone else. I had no idea what to say. "IDon't make me" "B-B-Bella?" Instantly I let go of Jacob's hand and turned toward Edward. He looked like he'd just had a marathon session with his therapist, but while he seemed exhausted, his hands were curled into fists. His eyes were fixed on Jacob. "We were just" "I was just talking to her, man," Jake cut in. Edward looked at me and I could tell that he was really concentrating on his words. "Iknow." The tension was thick and I wasn't male, so I didn't quite understand the silent war that seemed to be going on in front of me, but I did know that both Jacob and Edward could throw down if needed. Edward might have required a serious reason, but if he perceived Jacob as a threat to me, he could snap. I didn't want either one of them to get hurt, especially over me, so I moved away from Jacob and took Edward's hand. I meant it to convey two things: To Jacob, it would complete the sentence I had been about to say. If he made me choose, my choice would always be Edward. To Edward, walking away from Jacob, a guy he knew I'd had sex with, would signify my commitment to doing the right thing for him, for us. He didn't let go of my hand during group. It remained tight around mine. When we made it to his room, before he even turned on the music, Edward said, "I d-don't wwwwant you to be around JJJJJJJJacob anymore." I pulled my hand from his as my brain processed his words. "What?"

"Hhhhhe's d-dangerous, Bella." Again, I asked, "What?" I believed Jacob when he said that he'd never hurt me. "He's my friend, Edward." "You're an ad-d-d-dict and hhhhe ssssells d-d-drugs." His words pissed me off. I moved to his bookshelf to scan the titles and grabbed the stupid green rock out of my pocket. I squeezed it. "He sells pot and I'm not a fucking addict." His stupid fucking mother was a goddamned addict and I almost told him just that out of anger. My chest heaved and I felt like my control was lost. I had instantaneous fantasies about getting high. I could almost taste the weed and feel the coke in my system. After a few minutes of talking myself out of going downstairs and buying pot off of Jake, I told myself to breathe and to ignore Edward's words. He only called me an addict because it was all he knew. In his mind, anyone who smoked pot was an addict. I could have reminded him about how he'd admitted to smoking it once. I wasn't prepared to lose Edward, so pushing back the anger was necessary. He didn't know what he was talking about and I wasn't an addict. Just like his father had scarred his body, his mother had scarred his mind. When I felt calm enough, I turned around and smiled at him. I wasn't going to address the Jacob issue at all. I could understand his jealousy and didn't expect him to know that I fucking loved him. I hadn't told him, so how would he? I let it all go. "So I know that you don't like crowds, or whatever, but I thought we could go to Port Angeles to go Christmas shopping. It's the first year I can buy my dCharlie something, so I think I should. I mean, he pays for my food and shit, so I should do that, right? Like as a thank you or whatever?" For a moment I wondered if he was going to let it go or if it was his intent was to push the Jacob issue or the addict thing. I really hoped he let them both go because inside I was ready to pounce. I could be mean and cruel when I needed to and all of Edward's pushing was driving me right to that line. I didn't want to be at that line with him. "W-we can go. Mmmaybe MMMonday when it's not sssso busy." Thank god he let it go. I was ready to forget that he basically told me I couldn't be friends with someone and called me a fucking addict. I turned around and smiled at him. "Monday's good." I moved to him quickly and pressed my head into his chest. My body instinctively relaxed when his arms wrapped around me. "When's Alice coming home?" I mumbled into his green button-down. He sighed and we moved to the bed. Edward lay down first and then brought me down with him. My head was pillowed on his chest when he said, "I d-don't know. P-probably not until after Christmas. C-Carlisle said" The vibrations of his voice echoed through his chest and it was just what I needed to relax me further. I should've been paying attention, but it wasn't happening.

My body grew heavy and his deep voice soothed the anxious parts of me. His warmth encompassed me and I felt at peace. Every day was like climbing a mountain. I wanted to get high every day. I wanted to get off every day. I was so fucking tired, but couldn't really sleep in peace. But here in his bed, lying almost on top of him, I fell asleep and the crazy up and down of my emotions faded to black with the steady thump-thump of his heart. ... I spent most of the day Saturday working and when I got home, Charlie had bought pizza. For whatever reason, it pissed me off. I went into this gigantic tirade about him not liking the food I cooked and if he didn't want to eat it, he should just say so. He was fairly blindsided and even through the fight, I realized how ridiculous and unfair I was being, but I couldn't stop it. Most of my emotions were in an uproar and I felt powerless to control them. If my mind raged, I raged. If it was soft and reflective, I was soft and reflective. There was no rhyme or reason to any of it. It wasn't until very late on Saturday when Charlie had consumed two-thirds of a case of beer that I apologized and finally ate something. He accepted my apology like he always did, but I could see in his eyes that he was just tired of it all. I could see the regret that looked so much like my own. He wished he would have never agreed to take me. Just like with Edward, I wasn't prepared to have Charlie give up on me so when he made me breakfast on Sunday, I just thanked him and told him what my fasting blood sugar was. He asked about what my plans were for the day and while my first instinct was to tell him to fuck off and mind his own business, I managed to very calmly tell him that I was spending the day with Edward at his house. When I got to the Cullens', I found myself holding my tongue more than ever before. Alice had come home. One would have thought the queen of motherfucking England was visiting. There was a bunch of fawning and everyone tripped over themselves to make her comfortable. I wondered if anyone had even asked themselves if she went on her dislocated head-trips and self-injuring journeys just so when she returned she would get all of the attention. I tried to change my thoughts because the anger I felt inside was unjustified and wrong. But still, sitting in a room with Edward and Alice while they did nothing was annoying. They literally did nothing. They had a way of silent communication that pissed me off. I felt excluded, even though Edward's index finger was linked with my little finger. And then the Hales showed up; Rosalie with her 'I'm pregnant, look at me' glow and Jasper with his 'You're the best thing in the world, Alice' stare. It was fucking annoying. I excused myself from the 'Let's all pretend that Alice didn't just go off the deep end' party to make lunch. I slammed around the kitchen, banging pots and clinking metal utensils, wondering if Edward

even knew I was out of the motherfucking room. "Good afternoon, Bella." I didn't look up, but just replied to Dr. Hale, "Technically it's still morning. Afternoon implies that it's after noon." I nodded to the microwave clock, but kept my hands busy by rinsing rice. "Clearly it's not." "Not what? After noon or good?" "Either." "Is there something I can do to help?" I shut off the water. I didn't want her stupid help. I sure as fuck didn't need it. She should go and bask in the glory that was Alice's homecoming. "You can peel carrots." As she washed the carrots, she asked, "How is everything going for you? Your father says" I didn't have to listen to the rest about how Charlie ran to her regarding my grades and my 'attitude.' I swear that man had no idea how to confront people on his own. She should write him a how-to guide and entitle it, How to Be a Father with Balls. "I'm fine." I chopped onions after I made sure the burners were on the proper temperature settings. The olive oil was heating and the rice was cooking. "You seem a little agitated today," she said, her voice light as though she was mentioning that it might snow again today. "I feel agitated." "Why is that?" I minced the garlic a little too much. "You're the one with a fucking degree in this shit, so why don't you tell me?" Carefully, she placed the carrots on my cutting board and when she laid a light hand on mine, stilling the knife's quick movements, I looked at her. "What's going on with you is not easy. There will be days when nothing goes right. There will be entire months that you will feel like you won't be able to make it. Life is heavy sometimes, but you aren't in it by yourself and you don't always have to carry the weight on your own." As much as I wanted to push her and her words aside and continue cooking as if I didn't have all of these festering, bubbling, painfully sharp emotions within me, I couldn't. I carefully set the knife down as tears blurred my vision. "I don't know which way's up. I keep swimming and swimming but I can never find the surface." "And that's tiring, isn't it?" I nodded, wiping away the tears that rolled down my cheeks before they could splash onto my chopped vegetables. "I'm a bad person."

"Why do you say that?" I sniffed and shook my head. I didn't want to talk about it. I wanted to remain silent, and yet my voice sounded. "I yell at Charlie when he does nothing wrong and I hate Alice because she's better and out of the hospital and Edward doesn't want me to be friends with Jacob and Jacob doesn't want me to be Edward's girlfriend and Edward can barely spare a fucking glance at me today because he's all wrapped up in Alice and I" "Bella," she said quietly, halting my run-on thoughts, "you're not a bad person. Your father understands that you're going through something right now. It's pretty natural for you to feel neglected today because the attention's on Alice. You are in a very delicate place and you no longer have all of the crutches you've used in the past to help you. Edward worries about you, and I suspect Jacob does as well." I wanted 'crutches.' I wanted to be high, and oh god, what I wouldn't give to feel fully sexually satisfied! "Edward is pretty swept away by Alice because he feels guilty. It might be painful that his attention is not on you today, but he feels that Alice needs him more. You need to figure out how to be Bella, not Bella on drugs, not Bella having meaningless sex, and not Bella, Edward's girlfriend. Don't use Edward as a crutch and it won't hurt as much when he's not focused solely on you." I wiped my eyes again and tried to pull my thoughts away from my fucked-up emotions. She pushed my hair back over my shoulder and it felt like she was mothering me. My own mother had never done anything as tender as that in my life and it felt strange and wrong. I stepped to the side, rolled my shoulders back, and picked up the wooden spoon to stir the rice. I lowered the temperature on the burner. "I think you should go to a support group for" "I'm fine," I said automatically. I knew if I allowed her to continue, her sentence would have included the words 'recovering addict' and I didn't want to hear them. "Bella," she said to get my attention. When my eyes were on her, she continued, "There are going to be days when all you can do is tread water to save your life, but there will be other days when you have the strength to fight the current and crawl up onto shore." ... "Thank you ffffor llllunch." Finally Edward and I were alone in his room. I was doing my best to avoid our eyes meeting. It was much harder to get sucked into their depths when I didn't look at them. "Yeah, whatever." He stood next to me by the bookshelf. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him study my profile and then turn to look at the well-read copy of The Return of the King. He was quiet for a minute, but his silence didn't last long. "W-what's w-wrong?" "Nothing." The quickness with which I answered should have been a dead giveaway that nothing was

actually something. I'd always heard girls do that shit, I just never thought I would be one of them, pouting because my boyfriend gave his attention to someone else for two seconds. I didn't mean to pout; I just couldn't help it. He started to say something three times but stopped. My left arm moved forward, until my fingers rested on a bookshelf. My index finger grazed the spine of a play. "You know what I like about this one?" Edward shook his head. "It's just little sad, meaningless snapshots of someone's old life." "B-but they're mmmeaningful. Emily asks, 'They don't understand, d-do they?' because she c-can sssssee that GGGGeorge is w-wasting his life mmmourning her, mourning the past." I shook my head and moved to the couch. I sat with a sigh. "Should he have been happy that his wife, the one person he was truly connected to, is now a ghost?" "That's n-not the point." "What's the point then?" I still tried to avoid looking at him. He was too beautiful and made me feel too good. "P-p-people can fffocus on all the things they can't change, all the things in their llllives that happened to them or they can llllive l-life - really live it." His hopefulness continued to baffle me. "But she's dead, Edward. How can he 'really live' when half of himself is gone?" Again, Edward followed me to the couch. "There are other p-p-people in his llllife he c-c-could ffffocus on instead of llllying on her g-g-grave llllike he's got n-nothing llleft." "Maybe he has nothing left." "Hhhe's got his lllife." I was pretty much done with the conversation. It was great that he was hopeful and shit, but he hadn't spent the last four hours being all but ignored. I could have done anything with my morning but I came here to be with Edward. And not just be with Edward, but to interact with him and all he did was hang on Alice's every word like she wassomething. Something better than me. "I'm sssssorry I didn't hhhelp with lunch." I shook my head, trying to let him know that it was no big deal. I would cook whether anyone helped me or not. I had to eat and so did he. "I wish I c-could ffffeed you, Bella." I had to look at him now because his words were crazy powerful in my head. I knew instantly he wasn't talking about food. He was saying that he wanted to take care of me. As depressed as I was feeling, I needed to let him know that he took excellent care of me.

"You feed me in other ways." I might make him food, but he gave me hope when I didn't know I wanted it. "I don't even know why you like me most days." "B-because you're ssssmart and so p-pretty and you make me fffeel like I'm n-normal. You don'tYou've n-never acted like I was r-r-retarded because my mind and mouth c-c-c-c-c," he paused, "can't get it together." I felt desperate to change the heavy mood. I wanted something else to think about instead of my inability to lighten the fuck up today. "So shopping tomorrow, right?" I almost said 'Christmas shopping' but ever since he told me about what Christmas meant to him, I tried relatively hard to avoid the word altogether. It was difficult and I failed. He didn't answer, so I turned to him and immediately he took my hand into his. His other hand moved to my neck. I didn't flinch because I had come to accept that he liked running his finger over my scar, which was exactly what was doing just then. "I llll" he halted and then began again, "I lll -lllove, love you." My heart stopped. My breath caught. Something inside of me released a chemical that felt like acid eating away at me from the inside. "I llllove you," he said again when I said nothing. "I heard you," I managed to whisper back. I couldn't bring myself to look at him. When he said, "You d-don't hhhave to sssay it b-back to me," my heart ached more. I stood up and crossed the room, my hand moving to glide across the smooth surface of his guitar. "You shouldn't." "W-what?" "You don't even know me." There was rustling behind me and I knew he'd stood up. "I do know you." "Then you also know that you shouldn't feel that for me. Don't give me that kind of power, Edward." "I c-can llllove you if I w-want to." My jaw tightened and I turned to face him. "Take it back." His eyes danced across my face as his brow stitched together making his face a mask of confusion which only further hardened my expression. He didn't need to give me something like that. It was ridiculous of him. "No." With a deep breath, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Take it back," I said again slowly, as if it would drive home the point. "I d-don't wwwwant to." I fought the urge to get mean, to become cruel just so he would open his eyes and realize what he was

giving me. Thankfully he came to his senses before I had to. His face fell and I hurt like the pain his face expressed. "Fffffine. I t-t-take it back." I sighed and nodded. "Good." "B-but I'm only t-taking it b-back b-because you don't want it, not b-because I don't ffffeel it." I wanted it. I wanted it. I just couldn't let him let me have it. I desperately wanted to tell him how badly I needed him to love me; how much I needed him to know that I loved him too, but the words wouldn't come. His hands were curled into fists. I hated myself for breaking him. He turned from me and I panicked. His feet moved him to the door and I flew after him. "Edward, I" "I'm sssssure you have ssssssomething else t-to d-do. I'm g-going to g-go hhhhang out with Aliiiice." I held onto his forearm. "Don't go," I begged, completely aware that he was using a favorite tactic of mine. "I don't want You don't have to take it back just don'tdon't say it again." "I-I-I'll sssay w-what I w-want to sssay, Bella. Just liiiike you." I tugged on him, keeping him from opening the door. I didn't know what it was about those words that messed with my brain, and made me ache. Maybe it was because I didn't have much experience with that whole concept. Maybe it was too foreign, too strange to my ears. Maybe the words cut me because I knew that I was utterly undeserving of those feelings from anyone, especially Edward. He was too good. Too pure. Too decent and deserving. He was tootoo everything to throw those kinds of feelings away on someone like me. "II mean, I" I bet if I was high, I'd know what to say. If I was high, I'd probably have the nerve to tell him that I loved him back. But I was sober and I had fucking issues with just handing that kind of power over, even if it was to the best fucking person on the planet. "Thank you," I whispered, hoping he'd realize that I was thanking him for the gift he was giving me, the gift he continued to give me. His lips curved up on one side. "C-can I ssssay it again?" He was just fucking with me now, one of the many reasons that I was sure that I loved him back. I rolled my eyes dramatically and moved into his open and waiting arms. I was thankful to have him like this. I was thankful he was here with me, in the comfort of his room. ... Monday's shopping trip started out fine, but I should have known that it was doomed from the start. Neither of us enjoyed shopping and neither of us enjoyed crowds.

Port Angeles was a far cry from a bustling metropolis, but there sure were enough people on the main strip to make me fucking anxious, so I knew right off the bat that Edward would hate it. But he tried like he always did. It took him about twenty minutes to work up the nerve to step out of his Volvo. I held his hand as we walked and noted how he was very careful not to get too close to anyone but me. I was amazed at how different he was now compared to when we went to Olympia, a much bigger city. But the streets were quieter then. Here, it seemed the entire town came out on this particular day just to fuck with Edward's sense of comfort. Didn't they have anywhere better to be on a Monday? But then I remembered that they were probably all doing their shopping too. He was breathing heavily, but his belabored breaths slowed to a near normal rate every time we ducked into some quiet place. "You okay?" I asked as I pressed him against the wall of some new-aged-hippy bookstore. My hand was pressed against his stomach and instead of really listening to his answer like I should have, my sex-deprived mind instantly supplied fantasies of Edward's naked torso and what my lips wanted to do to it. "O-okay," he said with a nod. After another five calming minutes, Edward pushed away from the wall and moved into the store, examining a clear crystal hanging to his left. "I d-don't think Ch-Chief Swan w-would liiike anything from hhhhere." "Which is why we should look." I took his hand in mine again and we trolled around the little store. No, there was absolutely nothing in this place that Charlie would like. This was more Renee's trendy bullshit. She would change her spiritual beliefs about once a week and thought that crystals could heal. I tested it once, when she broke two of my toes by slamming her heel down on them; those fucking rocks didn't do a damn thing for the pain. But the Vicodin I bought the next day did. She wasn't into the metaphysical for long. I think the whole 'respecting other sentient beings' thing went against Renee's basic philosophy that every living thing in the world was put there for her personal use, whether it was to give her things or to take the blows when she was frustrated. After a half-hour of books on chakras and meditation, we left. Port Angeles had one department store. Just like all the crappy malls around the country, this store hired some large man to dress up and don a beard. It baffled me why parents paid to put their children on some strange man's lap. Seemed wrong to me. But as I glanced around the store, trying to think of something to give Charlie, Edward's hand tightened on mine. "What?" I turned around and followed his eyes over to the Santa line and there was James, holding a kid, and there was a tall red-haired woman standing next to him. He was looking at me and I felt my heart beat just a little faster. I tugged on Edward's hand, but he didn't budge. "That g-g-guy's sssstaring at you." I knew that. I could practically feel James' eyes on me. Now I just wanted to be as far away from this

store and this town as possible. How the hell would I explain to Edward who the fuck James was? "D-do you kn-know him?" "You'd think Port Angeles would have more fishing shit. Maybe I'll just order something on-line and pay for quick shipping or something." His feet finally moved as I pulled him away. "What do you think?" It wasn't until we were in the middle of the crowded cosmetic area that he planted his feet and spoke. He didn't answer my question. Instead, he asked "Who wwwwas that guy?" Fuck. "No one." His eyes shifted over my face. "I-I-I-I'm n-not sssstupid, B-Bella." Shit. "Fine," I said, my voice tight and tense. "I fucked him." I thought about adding a bunch of hurtful questions like, 'are you happy now?' but I refrained. Dr. Hale told me that I should disclose what a whore I was, so now one more piece of truth had been given to him. "B-b-b-b-but hhhhhe's m-m-m-married and hhhhhhas a ssss-ssssson." "And yet his dick still found its way inside of me. What's your fucking point?" He was breathing hard and his hand no longer held mine. I felt very small and very, very alone as I waited for him to truly process this information. It was clear that this would be his wake-up call. This would be the thing that forced him to realize that I wasn't good enough for him. Honestly, it would be a relief. I wouldn't have to work so fucking hard at being good for him because he would discard me just like everyone else had. It would hurt. No doubt that it would hurt fucking bad, but it was necessary. I would hurt and he would heal. "B-b-but wwwwwhy w-w-w-would youHhhhe's m-m-married," he said again, his stutter forcing me to concentrate hard on his words. "Wwwwwhy would you d-d-do that?" I set my jaw off to the side for a second as I tried to calm myself. My internal organs all felt like mush. My brain was nothing more than undercooked scrambled eggs and my heart felt like gluey oatmeal. "I'm a slut, Edward." I was almost shocked that I managed to keep my voice even. He took in a deep, shuttering breath; his eyes were wide, and his mouth was unable to form words. "Yeah, welcome to reality." I was just being mean now. If I hurt him first, it wouldn't hurt nearly as much when he left me. "Your girlfriend's a whore. You're the only one in Forks that didn't seem to know that. You should've asked Tyler or Mike fucking Newton about what a slut I was. They could've told you and you could've saved yourself all this shit!" He shook his head, as if denying my words.

"You can't just bury your head in the sand about everything, you know. You can't just pretend the shit you don't want to think about doesn't exist." I was fully aware that I was the pot calling out the kettle on this one, but I chose not to address it. This was necessary. Edward needed to be forced into knowing, really fucking knowing, who the hell he was involved with. And then he could be done with me and save himself. He looked fucking sick and as his chest heaved, his hands curled into fists. He kind of stumbled backwards until he hit one of the glass counters. He sank down. Looking at him like that, my hatred of myself and my inability to be kind doubled. I had seen him panicked, but it was never like this. I had thought it was bad before, but this was justcrippling. The outright terror and fear in his eyes frightened me and froze me. It was as if he were dying, the air leaving his lungs, his muscles clenching together and not unclenching at all. The sweat on his forehead made it seem like he was hot, but his face was pale. But it was his eyes that scared the fuck out of me. I had never seen that much terror in someone's eyes before. I felt like I was dying too. I was powerless. All I could do was watch and worry. People were starting to stare and I knew that wouldn't help him at all. I wanted to yell at them but I couldn't draw my focus away. I couldn't just let him freak the fuck out like that. I had to do something. That first trip to Olympia, what did he say I should do? Fuck, I wish my brain would just work as fast as I needed it to. Then I remembered. He said to call the EMTs and then call Carlisle. I couldn't imagine Edward wanting fucking EMTs while everyone stood around and watched. But maybe he needed that shit. What the fuck happened when someone had a panic attack like this? Were there actual physical consequences? Could he die from this shit? My body finally worked. It had only been a few short seconds, but it had felt like hours before I could move. Crouching down, I put a hand in his hair. That was the only thing I knew for sure would have any kind of soothing effect. My eyes finally caught his, keeping them stable instead of dancing all around in the fire that his fear created. "I'm sorry," I whispered, but he didn't respond much more than a trembling of his chin. "Do you want me to call an ambulance?" His body was shaking but he brought his hands up to my wrists and held on tightly. It fucking sucked because my first instinct was to shake him off, but I stopped myself from actually doing it. His eyes flashed with fresh panic and he nodded his head. The way he was breathing made me wonder if he was getting enough oxygen to his brain. Maybe if he could just slow down his breathing, he would feel better. Nothing good could happen when there wasn't enough oxygen in the body. But before I could help him breathe, I realized that he'd just told me he needed the fucking EMTs and I hadn't done anything yet.

So I broke eye contact. Then I brought my hands away from his hair. His fingers were still clamped around my wrists, so I spun my right wrist until it was free and then went to free the left. As soon as they were out of his hold, I found the pockets of his coat and searched for his cell phone. It wasn't there, so I reached for his pants pocket, but he must have thought I was reaching for something entirely inappropriate because he really started to panic then. I focused and found the fucking phone, removing my hands from that part of his body as quickly as possible. Perhaps I should have figured out how to use that damn thing before absolutely needing it. I pushed something and the screen lit up and I thought I just needed to put in the numbers 9-1-1, but it fucking beeped at me. Goddamnit! It showed me a picture of a key. This was fucking stupid. I needed to make a fucking call and the damn thing was locked. So I stared at it and briefly considered throwing it against the fucking wall, but realized that it wouldn't help the situation. But then the phone showed words, and they told me to push the star key and seven. Now where was the fucking star key? I finally found it and pushed it and hit the buttons. It beeped again and I dialed. I was able to connect with a live human being following what felt like several very long seconds. I told them where we were and what the hell was going on. I don't know how I did it calmly, but I did. Before I could hang up, Edward's hand clamped down on my forearm and I grit my teeth, holding back my cry of pain. He was going to leave a bruise, but he didn't mean it. He probably couldn't even help what his body was doing right now. Then everything started moving quickly. The EMTs came in and did a whole bunch of stuff. They put an oxygen mask on him and tried to get him to relax enough to release his hold on me. They explained a ton of shit to me about how his hands were frozen or what-the-fuck-ever due to lack of oxygen from his hyperventilating. To tell the truth, I could barely hear anything they said over my racing thoughts. I had done this to him. I hadn't been nice. I'd been downright mean because I was ashamed of what I had done with James. I'd known from the beginning that Edward should've run away screaming the minute he met me, but instead, Edward could only sit there on the fucking floor, trying not to pass out in front of what seemed like all of Port Angeles. Somehow I was outside, holding Edward's phone, wishing like hell that those EMT fuckers would have let me go with him. I didn't have the keys to his car and I didn't even know where he'd parked the fucking thing. After a minute or two of freaking out, I remembered again what he told me. I dialed Dr. Cullen. An hour of nail-biting and self-hating went by, slow and painful, before Emmett showed up in his Jeep. I wasn't exactly thrilled at being in the vehicle alone with him, but I figured if Edward trusted him, then I should too. Plus, he was my only way to Edward. He tried to speak to me on the ride to the hospital, but I had a hard time listening. All I could think

about was how Edward was going to hate me and how I had failed him. It didn't matter that I had fucked James and all the rest of them before he was my boyfriend. I was still a fucking slut, just like my mom said. I had no right to expect someone like Edward to accept me into his life. I didn't deserve him. I only deserved assholes like James who cheated on his wife while his kid took a nap in the next room. I only deserved to get fucked by dicks like Newton. I didn't deserve Edward's kindness. I was wholly unworthy of the care and tenderness he put into every word, touch and look he gave me. I was a slutty whore who had broken Edward in the middle of a department store right before Christmas. Then it hit me. There was something worse than my whorishness. I had done this to Edward so close to Christmas, so close to the time when his mother killed herself, when she killed herself in front of him. I was the worst human being in the fucking universe. I sat in the sterile-looking waiting room for hours while Emmett told me that it was going to be okay, and that I didn't need to worry because Edward was always okay after one of these attacks. But how could I really know that? And even if he was okay, why would he still want me? ...

Chapter 49: Fingerprints Edward It was bad enough having a conversation with Bella about her having sex with someone else; with some stranger. What was worse was that the guy was married and had a child. What topped even that was when she kept calling herself horrible, horrible names that wounded me just as much as they hurt her. Then I couldn't breathe. Unlike some of the small attacks she'd seen before, this one was pretty bad and I couldn't focus on anything. My lungs kept seizing and my heart wouldn't listen to my brain's frantic pleas to just slow down. I could barely hear anything, but I finally understood Bella asking me about an ambulance. I hadn't wanted to make a scene but it was obvious from the way everyone was crowded around me that the time for worrying about that had long passed. Even though Bella's hands in my hair felt wonderful, they didn't help my body to relax like they normally did.

The EMTs didn't let her ride with me. It made me mad. Instead of being calm because I knew help was just moments away, I worried about Bella the entire ride to the hospital. How would she get home? Would she still like me after seeing me like this? What if someone took her from the store and I never saw her again? In the ambulance, they gave me oxygen, which only helped my lungs. My head and heart still raced at a scary pace and I felt like they would explode at any moment. I was quite the loser. I knew that Bella had been with other people. I would have to have been blind and deaf not to have known, but to look at someone she had been with like that and to know that he had forsaken the love of his family, proved to be too much. I hated myself for my reaction, but I hated him for taking from her when it was so obviously clear that she wasn't old enough to give it. She kept calling herself a whore and a slut, and the words burned me deep. She wasn't either, but she believed what she said. I was no fool; I understood exactly why she said what she said. She wanted to push me away before I chose to walk away. The tactic was all Bella and it wasn't a surprise. What she wouldn't be able to handle was that even after knowing that she had sex with that man, I still loved her. What she did in the past was all a symptom of a larger issue, but she was my girlfriend now and she didn't do those things anymore. Plus, I constantly worried that I wouldn't be enough for her. Jacob could give her the physical closeness she wanted. Obviously the man with the wife and child could too, and had, on at least one occasion. Then there was me who could barely even think about sex without being gripped with fear. The words she used to talk about herself, seeing that man staring at her, people being so close to me, and my own fear of being inadequate all rolled into a panic attack. I wished that I'd had more control over my body and mind than I did, but with all that was going on, I lost focus. The entire trip had been one big exercise in keeping my cool. I avoided touching people. Well, everyone except Bella. She was my lifeline; the anchor to my boat of calm in a sea of panic. I held tight to her, typically only holding onto one of her fingers, but eventually having to grasp her entire hand as we weaved our way through the crowded sidewalks. But now I was in the emergency room with an IV in my arm, an oxygen mask on my face and no familiar faces in sight. I ignored the bustling of the doctors and nurses around me. Once they left, I knew Carlisle would be on his way, so I rested just a bit easier. He would take care of Bella. best part of being sedated was my mind's ability to slow down. I found myself thinking about music. In my head I played every song that came to me and even worked on a new piece. I was conscious, but not fully aware when Carlisle came in. He checked me over and just like usual when I was chemically altered, I let him without flinching or worrying about his intentions. I wanted to ask him about Bella, but the words never got to my mouth. I blinked and when I opened my eyes, the room was darker and she was there, looking so sad and I wished that I could have provided her some kind of comfort. "I'm sorry, Edward," she said as she rose out of her chair and moved to the side of the bed. "I'm fucking sorry. I didn't mean"

Just her words made me tired. I didn't really need her to say she was sorry. I knew that she didn't mean half of the hurtful things she did or said. Even sober, Bella had little to no experience dealing with emotion. It was just like when I told her that I loved her. I knew she wouldn't be able to accept it. I knew that she would have trouble hearing those words because I would have trouble too. It hurt when she asked me to take it back, but I understood why. I wanted to tell her that it was okay, but for whatever reason, I couldn't. I didn't want to speak. Hearing my voice stumble and stutter over simple words a three-year-old could say without issue, was the last thing I wanted. But I took her hand and gave her a small smile to relieve her guilt. I knew her well, and her face had the look of the guilty. She thought she was the cause of this. She thought my body's reaction to what was admittedly unsavory news relayed in a vulgar way was her fault, but the honest truth was that I'd felt this coming on for weeks. Everything in my life was different now. My routine wasn't the same. My thoughts weren't the same. I found myself letting my mind wander where it wasn't supposed to more and more. I didn't want to be alone all the time; I wanted to be with her. Despite what happened, things were better now that she was here. I was incredibly tired, so I let my eyes slip closed, focusing all of my thoughts on the feel of her palm against mine. ... At home on Tuesday, it was my goal not to speak. I had grown tired of my voice and had used it too much since meeting Bella. Also, I didn't want to leave my room. Dr. Eleazar's visit ruined my second goal. There was no way I would allow him to set foot in my room. He tried to get me to abandon the first goal, but I could be stubborn when I wanted to. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you how worried everyone is about you." I shook my head. Esme used to say the same thing. It wasn't news to me that "everyone" was so involved in my "well-being" that they would be worried when I had an attack that landed me in the hospital. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" I slowly shook my head, wondering if he'd talk about it anyway. "Do you know that there are quite a few musicians who have some form of anxiety disorder?" I sighed. Disorder was such a stupid word for shrinks to use. Nothing let someone know how abnormal they were than saying that they were not in order, which was what "disorder" meant. I have seen all the works that are done under the sun; and, behold, all is vanity and vexation of spirit. That which is crooked cannot be made straight: and that which is wanting cannot be numbered. He was waiting for me to respond, so I shrugged. I really didn't want to talk about other musicians. Dr.

Eleazar's stories about Beethoven and Mozart still haunted me, and I didn't think I could stand to hear about how someone else felt as bad as I did. Besides, perhaps it was those musicians' vanity that caused their anxiety. One couldn't keep insulting God by playing music and not expect consequences. Since I was twelve, I'd let music flow from me instead of remembering my place within His kingdom. Maybe that was way I suffered from anxiety. He who tills his land will have plenty of bread, but he who pursues vain things lacks sense. The wicked desires the booty of evil men, but the root of righteous yield fruit. I swallowed hard and shook my head, trying to clear it. My father had been wrong; I just needed to remember it. There was nothing wrong with music. It was only in his head that it was an affront to the Lord. I wished these passages of Scripture would leave my mind. It was unfortunate that after five years, I was still mentally assaulted by ancient words. The doctor asked a few other questions, obviously hoping to draw out my voice and thoughts, but I stayed silent. Eventually, I let my mind wander to Bella, hoping that I would see her today and at the same time not wanting to see her at all. Bella represented a huge contrast for me. I was desperate for her and yet there were times when I ached because of her. I wanted her to know everything about me, and yet I was powerless to give her the information to help her understand. She represented the failure of my mother and the hope she never had. She was light in the dark depths of my soul and yet she was the dark shadows in places untouched by the sun. As confusing as it was, I still found myself shrugging on my coat after Dr. Eleazar gave up. Carlisle stopped me before I got to the garage. I gave him his chance to tell me all the reasons why I shouldn't be leaving the house, but I wasn't drugged and my head was as clear as it was going to be under the circumstances. He tried to get me to speak, even going so far as to tell me that I wasn't allowed to leave, but in the end, I just sighed and walked to my car. Bella opened the door. It was good that her father was at work. I didn't want to speak and I might have felt compelled to under his intense scrutiny. "Edward," she greeted with a small, self-conscious smile. I had to look at her eyes to see if she was sober. For a second I thought she was high but then I realized she was just tired. I wondered if she'd slept. I had not. She wouldn't let me look at her for long, and turned away. I had wanted her to take my hand, but instead I was the one who took hold of her index finger. I stepped through the door and she closed it behind me. "I have coffee," she mentioned quietly. I nodded, hoping she would see that I would accept a cup, but she wasn't looking. With just her small finger within my closed hand, I followed her to the kitchen and stopped at the coffee pot. She handed me a mug with a fish on it and then poured the coffee.

I felt relieved at just the smell of it. I was tired and my body ached. I felt like I could have slept for days. Bella still didn't look at me and the awkwardness was the same as when we first met. Maybe she thought I was angry with her. Maybe she felt bad about yesterday. I didn't want her to feel bad or to think I was upset with her, but I couldn't get her to look at me and I still didn't want to hear my voice, even if it was calling her name. Setting down the cup, I pulled her to me, both wanting and needing to feel her in my arms. She took a deep breath when her face was pressed against my chest. Her hands moved to my lower back and her arms tightened around me. "I'm sorry," she said. I could barely understand her words muffled against my body. "I wish I was different for you, and that I hadn't done all of those t hingsbefore, but" I wished I could've just told her that she didn't have to be sorry about things that couldn't be changed. I wished I could just say that I was sorry for my reaction and that I would never judge her based on things that happened in the past. People are evolutions of themselves. Who we were a year, a month, a week, or a day ago was not the same as who we were presently. But again, even though I wanted to alleviate her guilt and shame, the words stuck not in my mouth but in my chest. There was an underlying after each big attack and it kept me from wanting to interact at all. In fact, I was surprised that I was here with her. After one last long squeeze, I moved away, keeping hold of one of her hands and taking my cup of coffee in the other as I led her to her room. I was sure that there were other parts of her house that were enjoyable, but I was willing to bet that none were as comfortable. We sat together on her bed and she asked me a few questions about the hospital and then about music. I suspected that she switched topics in an attempt to draw me out, just like Dr. Eleazar. I used all known forms of non-verbal communication to reply. "So what? You're not talking now?" I shook my head. "Why?" I shrugged. "Because of yesterday?" I nodded. "You're mad at me?" I shook my head again. "You think I'm a slut, right?"

She turned her head when she asked that, so I tightened my hold on her hand until she looked at me. I drove my eyes into hers and shook my head slowly. I did not think of her like that. She could use those words if it made her feel better, but I never would. Not in voice, and not in thought. Bella looked like she was going to cry. As much as I wanted to give her a smile to calm her, my lips remained unmoved. "Are you," she paused, letting her eyes search mine, "embarrassed about yesterday?" I nodded. I had no words that could adequately describe how horrible I felt that she had witnessed a break-down like that. It wasn't my worst, but I had needed an ambulance. They picked me up like a baby and put me on a gurney. I felt so small and not at all masculine. How could I expect her to share anything with me when I panicked so badly at a simple admission about her having sex with that guy? "So you aren't talking?" I shook my head. "At all?" Again, I indicated no. The line of her lips settled into a frown. "Well, that fucking blows." I had to smile at her bluntness. "I fucking love your voice." The smile faded and slowly I shook my head yet again. No one could love my voice. Bella took the mug from my hands, set it down on her bedside table and moved to sit on top of me. I breathed deep and waited to see if it was of a sexual nature, but as she took my face into her hands, I knew it was not wasn't. She pressed her lips against mine and then whispered. "I do love your voice, Edward." She tasted like coffee and French toast, and smelled like a rose amid a strawberry patch. I breathed her in as if she were air. I could feel her inside of me, giving oxygen to every cell, awakening the dead cells of my body. Bella leaned in, pressing herself against me and tucking her head into the crook of my neck. Her breath tickled me. Even if she didn't say it back to me when I told her I loved her, even if she panicked and told me to take it back, I chose to believe that she loved me a little too. Her kindness and the comfort she constantly provided for me was evidence enough. I could get upset and angry over every guy she might have had sex with, but deep down I knew that what we had was more. She might have shared her body with them, but she had never shared her heart. That part of her was still a virgin and she gave it to me to hold. And I gave her mine.

Her lips were pressed against the skin of my neck and part of me longed to feel her tongue against my skin, but I was happy the way it was. She gave me the ability to be silent without pushing for me to move beyond what I was comfortable with. Bella understood what all the therapists in the world would never get: I was silent when my world was deafening with noise. Bella knew that once I figured out how to turn down my world's volume, I would be ready to give my voice again. But for right now, there was nothing to say and not enough words to say it. After a while, we lay down together and after I was sure that she was sleeping, I let myself fall asleep. I dreamt of the dark winter in Chicago. I saw myself waiting for the bus with my shoes that were too big and my coat that was too small. I was still in elementary school and had to ride the bus alone. The other kids were mean and I sat at the front, right behind the driver. He was relatively nice and would yell at the other kids if they came near me. It had only taken that one time on his first day to figure out how I reacted when they got too close. It wasn't just that they had just gotten too near; they all gathered around and yelled at me. Their words were fairly unintelligible, but their intent had been clear and they'd scared me. My dream continued on to school where I relived the routine of those horrid days in rapid seconds, only to find myself at home, taking my wet shoes off outside, putting them out in the garage, and wiping up the floor before my father saw the marks I had made because it was too cold to take them off outside. Chores came first, and then my studies. First the Bible and then my school work. Joseph made dinner and I set the table. My father's prayers always lasted fifteen minutes. The noodles were cold and clumpy. He would ask us about what we learned. Joseph would always mention what he learned from the Scriptures first and then would speak about what math equation he was working on in his high school class. I would never look up as I told my father what verse I'd been studying. He never had enough patience to make it beyond that. He would tell me what it meant for me and my tainted soul, but he would never give me time to explain what I thought it meant. I cleared the table and cleaned the kitchen while Joseph and my father read the Bible. I never knew where they were; sometimes they studied in the living room, sometimes not. Sometimes Joseph would help when he could, but most nights I would clean until my father told me that it wasn't good enough. He would always say that he had to clean up my mess for me since I was unable to do it properly. In my dream, I found myself scrubbing the floor that was already clean. It felt like hours that I spent re-washing the dishes after that. Finally, even though I knew what was next, I felt relieved that it was time for prayer and lessons. I put the supplies away and moved slowly upstairs. The broom was on the floor at the end of my bed. My father stood next to my small dresser with his well-worn Bible in his hands. The strap was on my dresser. I didn't look at him and he didn't speak. I knelt on the broom, my knees already hurting before they touched the hard handle. He silently placed the Bible in front of me, opened to Isaiah. "Shirt, please," he said, as he did every night.

Slowly I unbuttoned my shirt with trembling fingers. When it had slipped down my shoulders, he bent and picked it up, then folded it as always and placed it in the laundry basket near my closet. "Read." I turned my eyes to the pages below, the text almost too small to read, but I didn't need to read it. We had been on the same passage for two weeks. I knew it by heart, but still had trouble saying it. I took a deep breath and thought about my mother. I imagined her smiling at me. I remembered the song she sang to me. "Read, please," he prompted again. If I wasted any more time his tone would become unpleasant. I started off slowly, concentrating hard on my breathing. "But Hewaswoundedforour trrrransgressions," I took a deep breath, hoping that my father wouldn't fixate on how I drew out the word. I hoped that he would let it go. I peeked up at him, but turned my eyes back down when I saw him looking at me, "Hewasbruisedfor our iniquitie s: the chastisement of ourpeacewas upon him; and with hisstripes we arehealed. All wwwe like sheep have gone astray, we have turned every one to his own w-w-wway" My breath caught and I instantly felt sick. Without looking, I knew what he was doing. I heard the strap drag across the dresser. My breathing quickened. "Continue, please." I couldn't speak aloud for fear of messing up the verse again. The first lash against my shoulders stung deep, but it was his voice that drove me to speak again. "Continue, please." "and the LLLord has llllaid on hhh-hhh-hhhim the in-i-i-iquity of us all." I finished quickly, knowing that the next lash was going to hurt worse and it would be followed by more. Then he would make me repeat the verse after. I heard the strap again. Thankfully before I felt it, I woke. Bella was sitting up next to me, her legs drawn up to her chest. She gave me a small smile, but it was very difficult to feel comfort when I knew I could have done anything while I was asleep, so I had no idea what she saw. I sat up quickly and pressed the heel of my hand to my forehead. "Are you okay?" I nodded, even though my head throbbed. I looked down to see little white impressions on my right hand. Thankfully, I hadn't broken the skin. Bella didn't say anything, but her eyes were on me. I knew that she didn't understand. I knew that one day I would probably have to tell her abouteverything. I knew she wanted to understand because nothing made sense. I saw the confusion on her face that day on the beach when I couldn't adequately tell her why sand was different in my mind than potting soil.

It had taken Kate a long time to get me to help her re-pot plants. At first I would just watch her. Her hands would be covered in dirt. Sometimes she would scratch her cheek or chin and I would feel sick at the sight of the dirty smudge. She liked houseplants, so she was always busy with them. She'd been re-potting a Norfolk Pine when she asked me to open the bag of soil. It took me ten minutes to even touch the bag, but she sat there patiently, not watching me, just fiddling around with the roots of the tree. She called it "tickling." She "tickled" the roots to shake off old soil and make it easier for the root system to acclimate to its new environment. When I was finally able to hold the bag open, she scooped the dirt out with her bare hands. As she moved it to the new pot, a chunk fell onto the back of my hand and I dropped the bag. Her fingers brushed it off my skin but little crumbs were left behind. I felt like I couldn't breathe. Kate took my hand in both of her dirty hands and pulled me up. She walked me to the spigot and held our hands under the running water. "It washes away," was all she said. While I watched as the dirt ran down my hands onto the ground, I couldn't help the goose-bumps that formed on my skin. My teeth were clamped tight and tears stung my eyes. I had taken a long, hot shower that afternoon, hoping that the sin would wash from me as easily as the filth had run from my skin, but it was no use. "Look what I found." Bella's voice pulled my attention from thoughts of the past. When I looked up, I saw that she was no longer on the bed next to me, but was pulling something out of the top drawer of her dresser. "I almost threw it out when I first got here, but for some reason I tucked it away." She crawled up the bed to me, holding a purple box. "Charlie's been telling me about a bunch of shit I'd forgotten. I think my grandma Marie got this for me when I was like eight or something." She smiled timidly before opening the lid. A tiny ballerina in a pink outfit started dancing while the tinkling music box music started. I recognized the song and instantly my fingers began to move as if over the keys of a piano. I wished she had one here so that I could play it for her. There was nothing in the box, but she was staring at it with wonder as if it were the best thing she'd seen in her life. "I think I remember it. I probably I left it here on purpose so Renee wouldn't make me burn it." I reached out and touched her cheek. She barely flinched, but I saw it. After she recovered, her eyes closed and she nestled her cheek into my open hand. I wanted to tell her that I loved her again, but I didn't want the mood to change. It made her uncomfortable, but just like being touched on the face, she would get used to it. Her letting me touch her face at all told me how she felt about me. I found myself thankful again that she allowed me to be silent instead of pushing me to speak. No one else in my life would have done that. Even Alice would have pushed in her own way. We had only spoken about it that one time, so I wondered if Bella remembered that in two days, it would be the anniversary of my mom's death. I hoped she did, even if she didn't say anything. I just wanted her to know that my inability to function properly was not because of her.

I didn't expect her to truly understand, considering the people I'd lived with for five years still didn't really know how to handle it. Carlisle always tried to speak to me. Emmett avoided me because he was fairly clueless about how to handle some of my darker moments and Alice always tried to be quietly supportive, but didn't understand my need for solitude. It didn't seem right to share that day with anyone and the days leading up were always horrible. Something always went wrong. I tried this year for the first time to do something normal, but just like always, the day ended with oxygen masks and a trip to the E.R. I tried to focus on the little music box, but my head was still hurting and I kept thinking of Scripture, my father, and my mother's brains sliding down my door. "Do you like it?" My eyes fluttered and I swallowed hard. Then I looked back up at Bella and shook my head. "You don't?" Wait. I'd forgotten what she asked me. Finally I remembered she was holding the box, so I nodded. "Are you okay?" I could have nodded and pretended that things in my head were as normal as they got, and ended it all, but I couldn't. Slowly, I shook my head. A moment later I felt her hands in my hair, my mind slowed, and I felt marginally better. "Let's just drive somewhere tomorrow, okay? We'll just drive. We went south last time, so tomorrow let's go north. We can justyou know, just fucking take off and we'll find some place toshit, I don't know, but we'll be away from here and you won't have to think about stupid shit and you won't have to talk if you don't want to and I can just" She was rambling at this point and while I loved that she just wanted to drive me away the demons of my past, the demons of a tainted and wicked soul would follow me wherever I went. Instead of listening to her like a good boyfriend would, I kissed her, just to make her quiet. Her hands tightened just a little in my hair and normally I liked it, but today the way the skin pulled taut against my skull aided the headache that had already assaulted me. Gently, I pulled her hands away and brought them between our chests without breaking the kiss. The backs of my hands touched her breasts by accident. I wanted closeness but not like that. I feared that she would misinterpret my intentions. I hadn't touched her below the waist since that first time, and she hadn't asked, but knowing Bella, she wanted me to. Her tongue moved out against my lips. I wanted to let her distract me with kisses. She was always a lovely distraction. With her, my mind could focus on something other than the rampant craziness in my head. However, I had just awoken from that dream about my life in Chicago and her kisses, the ones that were trailing away from my mouth and moving down toward my neck, were not working in that same distracting capacity. It was unfortunate because I wanted the feel of the lash to be gone. I didn't want

to recite the verse in my head. If I just ignored the pulsating pain in my head and allowed her to distract me, I wouldn't have to feel bad. Perhaps it could be the best Christmas in years. Maybe if I allowed myself to feel good, I wouldn't have to experience one more year of emotional pain. Before I was able to debate the pros and cons of going further with Bella this particular day, she pulled away from me. I looked at her, wondering why she stopped when Bella never stopped. She placed a steady hand across my forehead. "Jesus, I knew it." I cocked an eyebrow. "You're fucking hot." I managed a small smile for her, but she just rolled her eyes. "I mean you're fucking sick, Edward. You're burning up." Now that she mentioned it, I was feeling warm, but I thought it was due to the nap and the kissing. "Stay here." She got up and left the room for a quick minute. When she returned, she had a digital thermometer in one hand and a wet washcloth in the other. I let her take my temperature as she brushed the hair back from my face and held the cloth to my forehead. The little stick beeped, she looked at it, and then she shook her head. "For Christ's sake, you're fucking sick," she repeated. I curled my hands in reaction to her taking the Lord's name in vain twice. It wasn't my place to correct her about things like that, and I wasn't even sure I wanted to. I was not my father. His beliefs were not mine. Before I knew it, I must have fallen asleep again because I was back in my room in Chicago. I was in the closet, actually. The door to my bedroom was just barely cracked open. I uncurled my body and crawled toward the door, peering through the crack. The day was growing long and the winter sun was setting, casting shadows in my already-darkened room. It was difficult, but I could make out the door that led out to the hall. The blood and bits were still stuck there, but the color had changed. My eyes dropped to the bed and then to the floor at the foot of it. My little bloody footprints still came towards me, leading away from my mother's hand. Through the gap between the floor and my bed, I could see her pale hand, with her fingers slightly bent. I felt very small and alone. My mind warred between the knowledge I had gained since then and the thoughts of a seven-year-old. I felt the urge to crawl from my hiding spot and try to step over her again, but the fear that perhaps her eyes would open and her hand would reach out and grab my foot seemed too much. Then the tears came, because if her eyes opened then she would be alive and if she was alive and I was cowered in the closet, I wasn't helping her when she needed it. She was my mother and I was letting her lie there in a pool of her own blood.

But I couldn't go out there. God's angels or the Devil's demons would be coming to collect her and I didn't want to see either one. I knew if they saw me, they would take me too. While I wished to be gone from this place, I knew that God would banish me to Hell if the angels took me and the demons would deliver me straight into the hands of Lucifer. My father's words rang in my head and the images that accompanied them took my breath away. I sat back down, wrapping my arms around my legs and burying my face in my knees. My father and Joseph would be back and if nothing else, Joseph would save me from the body of my mother. Joseph always saved me. The hours passed like days and it was dark when the closet door opened. I looked up from my folded hands to see my father's impassive face. "You were right to pray, Edward," he said to me as he bent down to pick me up, bringing me close to his body. It was the one time I remembered being happy to be close to him. It was the one time I could remember being relieved to hear his voice. I clung to him and squeezed my eyes shut. My heart began to race again when I felt him put me down. I knew even with my eyes closed that we had not made it out of my room. When I opened my eyes I was on my bed. Joseph was next to me, his hands and chest bloody. Instantly I knew he would get the belt for ruining his clothes. "It's time to pray," my father said. My little body shook and my mind couldn't keep up with his request. Prayer meant knees on the floor and my mother was on the floor and her blood was I didn't initiate any movement, but I felt my body being moved. My knees were soaked as my hands automatically folded together. My father's words of demons and hell, of repentance, shame and sin echoed through my ears, growing louder until it blocked out all other thoughts. I tried to keep my eyes shut but when he demanded that I open them to see what a forsaken soul looked like, I had to. There was nothing left of her face. I felt sick as I finally pulled my eyelids open once more. I was hot and sweaty as I looked up at Bella. "I'm going to call Dr. Cullen." I shook my head and held onto her arm. "Fine, but would you at least take Tylenol or something?" I shook my head again. "What? You like suffering? All you have to do is swallow a tiny pill and you'll feel at least a little better.

Why won't you do that?" God created my body to be in his likeness. My body could fight off what it needed to fight off and if it couldn't, it would be God's plan. I hated my thoughts even as they raced through my mind. These were not my thoughts. I took medicine. I took the medicine Esme prescribed me. I took medicine when I needed it and Bella was telling me that I needed it. I was growing confused and was finding it difficult to separate my father's thoughts from my own. My body hurt from my throat to my muscles. My stomach ached as though it were starving. It felt like it was sticking together each time it contracted. I thought of my dream. It had taken hours for my father to finish praying over my mother and after that it took even longer for the medical personnel and the police to clear out. There had been so many questions. I had to sit in my father's study for an hour with a woman who asked me a bunch of questions that I didn't understand. I tried not to answer many. If I answered them wrong and my father found out, he would be angry with me. They wanted to take me someplace. They said something about a warm bed and people who could help, but my father wouldn't hear of it. He threatened them and said that if God hadn't wanted me to see it, then He wouldn't have let me. He told them that I would be fine, but when the woman pushed, he compromised and agreed to let her come back for a follow-up visit. By the time she came back the next day, I had only slept a few hours and my father had told me what I should say to any possible question she asked. All of my answers involved the will of God. Thinking back, it was obvious that he was making sure to draw a line between religious freedom and the rights of the state. But back then all I knew was that he told me what to say and I didn't want to upset him by saying anything different. He had taken the belt to Joseph for soiling his clothes with the blood of our mother, but he'd left me alone. I didn't want to feel the sting of the lash simply because I couldn't follow his instructions. We went to Christmas Eve and Christmas morning services as if nothing happened. The men clapped their hands on my father's shoulders, but no one mentioned that they knew. The women sat with Joseph and me and wouldn't meet our eyes. My brother wouldn't speak, even when I asked him questions. He wouldn't look at me, but just stared at the Christmas lilies while words were spoken about the sin of the world from the pulpit. My father didn't cook for us. A few women from church dropped off covered dishes. I didn't want to sleep in my room; no matter how hard we tried, Joseph and I couldn't clean it enough. The blood was too thick and the floor was horribly stained. I would stay awake until I knew my father was asleep and then I would leave my room and crawl quietly into Joseph's and sleep in there. I opened my eyes and looked around Bella's room to find that the lighting had changed and the door was open. There were quiet voices just outside, which I could tell were hers and her father's. I tried to move, but my body was too heavy.

"He doesn't want to, Charlie." "He's sick. You can't keep Carlisle out of the loop about this; he's a doctor and that's exactly what he needs." I should have told her that I get sick like this every year. It just sort of snuck up on me this time. "Has he said anything?" Her voice was soft and I had to strain my ears to hear. "He mumbled something about god healing him if he was meant to be healed." Her words deflated me even more. Now she knew how messed up my mind was. Now she knew I was like my father. "Well," he said "that's clearly crazy. I'm calling Carlisle." "But" "Look, I admire that you want to do right by his wishes, but that fever has been too high for too long." I drifted back off to another time and place. The kids at school were celebrating Halloween. I didn't know what grade I was in, but Joseph sat next to me, so we were still in elementary school together. The Bible sat open on his lap. "You have to say it again, Eddie. You stuttered on the word 'suffering,' Dad will hear it. Do it again." I didn't want to do it again. I wanted to be inside the classroom eating candy and wearing a costume. "I d-d-don't w-w-want to." "I swear if Mom takes your punishment again tonight, I'll use the belt on you myself." His words hit me like my father's belt and all thoughts of forbidden parties disappeared. I looked up at him with wide eyes, wondering if he'd really do that. "Aw, Eddie," he began, his expression shifting to pity, "you know I won't but" My fears were gone, so my thoughts turned back to the activity behind the closed door. "Thhhhhhey're e-eating c-c-c-cupc-c-cakes in thhhhhere." Joseph sighed and his voice hardened again. "And we're not. Now say the stupid passage and don't stutter." "W-w-w-why c-can't w-we eat c-c-c-cupc-c-cakes?" "Our bodies are temples of God. 'Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own?'" Joseph could always quote Scripture well. "B-b-but w-w-what's w-wrong w-with c-c-c-cup"

"This is why you get punished all the time. You ask too many stupid questions." "B-but" "Sugar is a vice. Vices are vain and vanity is a sin, Edward." "B-b-but w-w-what's w-w-wrong with cccccelebrating HHHHHHalloween?" "Really?" My brother looked down at me like I was as stupid as the other kids in school thought I was. "It's the Devil's holiday. Now read the Scripture before I decide to stop helping you all the time." His words again ignited fear in me. Joseph not only helped by going over the lessons, but he would hide the strap sometimes too, even though all that seemed to do was make my father even angrier. Still, it gave me a few extra tries to get out of my punishment. I didn't want Joseph to stop helping, so I looked down at the Bible he passed to me. I went as slow as I normally did when trying to focus and eliminate the stammering. My father had chosen a long passage. I thought he did it just because he knew I wouldn't be able to say it all. We'd been on this one for nearly a month. "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, we must get rid of every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and run with endurance the race set out for us, keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. For the joy set out for Him He endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken His seat at the right hand of the throne of God. Think of Him who endured such opposition against Himself by sinners, so that you may not grow weary in your souls and give up. You have not yet resisted to the point of bloodshed in your struggle against sin. And have you forgotten the exhortation addressed to you as sons? 'My son, do not scorn the Lord's discipline or give up when He corrects you. For the Lord disciplines the one He loves and chastises every son He accepts.' Endure your suffering as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is there that a father does not discipline? But if you do not experience discipline, something all sons have shared in, then you are illegitimate and are not sons. Besides, we have experienced discipline from our earthly fathers and we respected them; shall we not submit ourselves all the more to the Father of spirits and receive life?" Although I got through the verses with my brother, I failed at home in front of my father. I had made it all the way to the word 'respected' before my focus slipped. When I forced my eyelids open, I was no longer in Bella's room. Thankfully I was in my own bed and not a hospital bed. Two years ago I had been admitted. Carlisle had given me his word that he wouldn't come into my room unless I was dying. That time I got the flu pretty bad, but wouldn't let him in to care for me. He made his point by taking me to the E.R. "They almost weren't going to let me stay." I tried to lift my head to find where she was, but I found the action too difficult. I was thankful when Bella appeared to my left. "It's a good thing for you that I'm a stubborn bitch." I tried smiling, but I had no idea if it translated from the thought to my face.

"Seriously, Edward, you wereI mean, you've been sleeping fora really long time and you" I turned to look at my clock. It was five in the morning. "you kind ofhurt your hands and" If I'd had energy, I would have probably panicked. I glanced down and saw that my hands were patched with white gauze and surgical tape. I had bitten my hands in my sleep and Bella saw. "I don't think we'll be able to go driving today because everyone's super worried about you." My throat was dry. Not that I really had anything to say, but I tried to swallow and found that I couldn't. "Are you thirsty? Here," she said. The bed sank down as she sat next to me, pulling and tugging me up until I was slightly inclined. She held a glass of water to my lips and I drank, hating and loving that she was doing this. I didn't want to be a burden and I didn't want her to think of me as helpless, but I loved that she was taking care of me. Not even Alice could have done it better than she was. When I was settled back down against my pillows, Bella gave me a little smile. "I'd lie down next to you, but you're kind of sweaty and gross." The way she said it let me know she was joking. Besides, I would hate to give her the flu. I hoped our kiss earlier, or yesterday, rather, wouldn't be enough to make her sick. "It's good that you're drinking. Dr. Cullen was like a second away from taking you to the hospital, and then your fever broke." I was tired, so once she took my hand, I closed my eyes again. A gentle nothingness overtook me. ...

Chapter 50: Hero Edward I woke again at quarter past eleven. I was extremely disoriented, not only mentally, but physically as well. My legs felt like jelly and my sense of balance was off. I made it out of my bedroom and across the hall, barely making it in time to heave twice into the toilet, but my stomach was already empty. I clung to the railing as I ventured downstairs. I wondered if Bella was still here or if they made her go home, because I needed her. I needed water like crazy and a nice hot shower to clean the filth away, but I felt as though I'd been granted a reprieve from the usual week-long bout of flu I got this time every year. My dreams had been horrible and I had wanted to wake from them, but found I couldn't. I dreamt of

things I didn't want to remember. Things that I never wanted to think about again. I had woken earlier to find Bella in my room. She helped me take a drink of water and held my hand until I fell asleep again. The dream after that was about the night on the beach, except it wasn't Jessica I was with, it was Bella. Instead of Jessica's inexperience leading her to believe that I was normal and functioning, Bella's experience made it no secret that I was completely inept and incredibly dysfunctional. But Bella in my dream wasn't like my real-life Bella. She was mean, ignorant, and hateful. She laughed at me and called me names. Instead of letting me set a pace I was comfortable with, she took control and forced it to be something I couldn't handle. The dream ended with everyone in school hearing from her how horrible I was, how I couldn't finish, how I cried like a child and begged her not to tell. I was thankful when the dream was ended by my rumbling stomach. I padded softly into the kitchen and paused when I saw Alice and Bella playing cards. Alice had said that Bella wasn't capable of being a good friend, but I was happy to see them connecting, even if it was through a game called 'War.' Alice noticed me first. She jumped up, her chair scraping loudly against the linoleum. "Edward!" She stopped herself before getting too into my space. "You look disgusting." I wanted to tell her that I felt disgusting, but I still had no will to speak and the words would not come. She reached out and touched my arm and I smiled at her. I wanted her to know that I was feeling better and I would be okay. Alice had always been my rock during the times I was sick, but I was thankful that she took the backseat and let Bella do it this time. I turned my eyes to my girlfriend and found her looking at me closely. "I made you soup." I smiled. Her soups were good and she had made one just for me. As excited as I was for Bella's soup, after I sat down at the table and she served it to me, I realized that I did not feel a whole lot better, but that I wanted to feel better. I wanted to go on the drive she had talked about. Aso long as everyone thought I felt better, then maybe we could get away. I sipped at the broth of the homemade chicken noodle soup and tried not to show how unappealing I found it. I doubted it was her soup that was turning my stomach, but more my body rejecting food in general. I shivered as it contrasted against the cool of the kitchen. "It's not good?" I looked up at her, completely unaware that I had stopped eating. I couldn't settle on which response to use. A shake of the head could indicate that I thought it wasn't good, and a nod could be seen as agreeing that it wasn't good, so I shrugged. I wondered if people who spoke fluently knew how difficult non-verbal communication could be. "You're still sick." She reached out and took the spoon from my hand and pulled the bowl away. "You should really just drink something." I shook my head, hoping to convey that I felt better, even if it was a lie.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. "You only feel a little better because Dr. Cullen gave you some kind of medicine yesterday. You should go back to bed." Bed sounded perfect, especially if she was going to come with me, but I feared that if I fell asleep again, I would dream. I didn't want to dream anymore. I didn't think I could handle any more scenes from the past. I stood when she did and followed her to the stairs. However, when she entered my room, I hung back and leaned against the doorframe. The messy bed reminded me of my dreams. Very carefully, I reached inside the door to my desk and grabbed my car keys, holding them out to her. "You're sick." I shook my head, silently begging her to believe me. "We can't just go out into the cold when you're sick like this." My brow knitted and I pressed my lips together. I extended my tired arm even more. I didn't want to be here. We'd made loose plans revolving around driving far away and I didn't want to put them on hold just because I was sick. I would get better. I really wanted to get away. Being away from here and alone with her would make me better. Slowly, her hand reached out and took the keys. "Fine, but you have to take a shower and put warm clothes on. And use the hair-dryer. Damp hair and winter air don't mix and I'm not going to be responsible for your cold getting worse." I managed a smile when she relented and did what she asked. Half an hour later, with dry hair and warm clothes, we snuck out to the garage and took off. I felt safe with her behind the wheel with me strapped into the passenger seat. Normally I liked knowing where roads would take me, but with Bella driving the suspense was exciting. Even if I didn't have enough energy to actually be excited. I must have fallen asleep right outside the town's limits because instead of being in the passenger seat of my Volvo, I was in the back seat of the black sedan, twisted around and tangled in the seat belt. I was watching my house grow distant behind me. It was silent in the car, but it was loud inside my head. I was screaming and crying and panicking all at the same time. My mind ached just as badly as my body did, but none of that bubbled over to the outside because I didn't know the people in the front seat. I didn't know where they were taking me. All I knew was that I was alone. I had nothing but the clothes I wore and some police officer's coat wrapped around me. It wasn't until my house was nothing more than a speck surrounded by blue and red flashing lights that I forced myself to face forward. The lady driving had big hair and called me tender names like 'honey' and 'darling.' The other one was wrinkled. Her hands felt like the crisp, thin pages of the Bible. The ride seemed long and the ladies kept asking me about things like school and books and toys. I knew that they were trying to distract me, but I had no words for them. I didn't feel comfortable speaking, and besides, the questions were difficult to answer. Apart from the Bible, I only read what was in my school-books, and it would have been hard to discern a favorite story from any of that. They asked me about television and friends. I hadn't the voice to tell them that I only watched the

evangelists when I was allowed to, and I had no friends. The wrinkled lady turned and handed me something small. It was silver and had a little paper tag sticking out of it. To be honest, she scared me a little, but I didn't want to be rude, so I took it. I realized that I'd seen kids with these at school. I looked up at her, my eyes wide, wondering if she knew what she had just given me. "It's okay, you can eat it." But I couldn't. It would destroy the temple God had built and my father would be so angry. I shivered at just the thought of the strap across my back. I shook my head and tried to hand it back to her. "Sweetie, it's okay." I turned to the lady with big hair. She looked at me through the rear-view mirror and I shook my head again. "M-m-m-m-mmmmmy d-d-d-d-d-d, fffffffffffather w-w-w-w" "Your father doesn't have a say in what you do anymore." "Janis," the wrinkled lady hissed. It sounded like a warning. My body froze for just a second. Then I twisted around and looked out the back window again. I had no idea where we were. Nothing was recognizable. When I turned back around, the wrinkled lady's eyes were sad and caught mine. "Please eat the chocolate, son. It'll be okay." She called me 'son' and sons obeyed. I was incredibly confused. No one told me what was going on. No one said anything about Joseph and the only thing these ladies said was that my father wasn't here and that it was okay to eat the chocolate in my hand. So I unwrapped the little drop-shaped confection and licked it. "Go on." She was watching me and waiting for me to obey her command. It went against what my father always told me. I'd been disciplined many times for wanting something like this and now she was telling me to eat it. I didn't understand. Would she punish me if I didn't eat it? Whose rules did I follow? These ladies were here now, but my father would be angry when he found out. He would use the strap, and if not the strap, he would use the cord; if not the cord, he would find something else. But what would these people use? My father's punishment was known. The punishment they could administer was unknown, and that frightened me more. I placed the piece of chocolate on my tongue and felt it melt. It was rich and it coated my entire mouth. I should have just taken a small bite because the whole thing was too much.

I swallowed the mouthful and instantly felt sick. My father was going to be mad. He was already so upset. I had no idea what was going to happen when they gave me back to him. Joseph wouldn't be there to help me. I tried to hold back tears and I felt like the world was going to collapse in on me. My body shook and my lungs seized. It was incredibly hot and I began to sweat. It was as if my father was actually here, disciplining me. My back and shoulders actually began to sting. My stomach clenched and I wrapped my arms around my torso. My muscles were tight and my body felt at odds with itself. It felt like I was going to die. I was going to die. "Edward, wake up. Please? Edward?" My eyelids fluttered and I turned my head to see Bella's wide eyes, her arms extended toward me. I felt her hands in my hair. "Thank fuck." She closed her eyes for a minute and blew air through pursed lips. I blinked in confusion, taken aback by her vulgar word. "You were acting like you couldn't breathe and I don't know that CPR shit and you forgot your phone." I tried smiling to reassure her. My clumsy arm reached out to take hold of her hand. She felt cold but it was good. "You're all sweaty and gross again." She was worried. She nibbled at her lip and her tone conveyed her concern. I slowly turned my head and looked out the window. All I saw was woods and that told me nothing of our location, but Bella answered my silent question. "We're about twenty minutes outside of Forks. You were freaking me the fuck out so I pulled over." I took a few deep breaths and squeezed her hand. Resting my head back, I closed my eyes, then pulled her hand to my cheek and delighted in the relief it brought me. "I'm taking you home." My eyes popped open and I shook my head quickly, gritting my teeth against the nausea. I held her hand hard against my chest. I didn't want to go back home. I wanted to stay out with her. "Edward, listen, I'm the first one to applaud your rebellion, but not when you're sick, okay? You're fucking burning up again, and it's probably time for more medicine and tomorrow's" I was happy that she stopped speaking. I knew what tomorrow was. I didn't need a calendar or any of the Christmasy reminders to know what tomorrow was. I looked away from her and back to the forest in front of us.

"You need medicine." Her voice was serious. "G-G-God mmmmade mmmy body in HHHis likeness, Bella. If it c-c-can't fffight it off on its own then it's n-not mmmeant to ssssurvive." She was quiet for much longer than I thought she should have been. I finally turned to face her, and she was looking at me as if I was crazy. Perhaps I was. Or maybe it was just because I hadn't spoken in a day or two. My throat was dry, my voice was raspy, and I had no energy to continue speaking, but that didn't stop her from giving me her opinion. "That's your father's bullshit, isn't it? More suffering and pain bringing purity, right? It's bullshit, Edward; bullshit." I looked away again. I felt like I did riding in that black sedan. My world was caving in all over again because someone else was telling me that everything my father had taught me was false. The problem was that I couldn't honestly say if I believed him to begin with. This was not the time of year to question my thoughts. It only led to more questions. Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil. It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones. As much as I didn't want to rely on the words my father had set before me, and as much as I wanted to know differently, the only thing my mind could supply was words of Scripture. Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. I pinched my eyes closed. I just wanted to keep driving until Christmas was over and I could go back to not feeling everything at once. I was tired of thinking so much and experiencing everything again. Things were better when I could control my thoughts; when the words of the Bible didn't come unbidden into my mind. "L-L-Let's jjjust g-go." I opened my eyes and pleaded with her. "Please, Bella?" She nodded and put the car into reverse. "Yeah, but we're going back to Dr. Cullen." "N-n-no!" "No? Because your father's fucked-up religion said you should be sick and suffer? This shit isn't god's will, Edward. A virus got into your fucking body and made you sick. Do you know how fucking lucky you are to have a doctor at home? You don't have to feel like shit. You can let them make you feel better." "B-b-but GGGod" "Fuck god!" My mouth snapped shut and I drew a blank on what to say back to her. I shouldn't have said anything to begin with. Bella didn't like it when I spoke about God.

"God doesn't have a fucking plan for you, okay? You're sick because people get fucking sick. And you'll get better because you choose to get help and get better, not because it's god's stupid will." I was tired and she was angry. More than that, I was powerless to stop her from driving me back to my house, but before the motion of the cur lulled me back under, I was able to mumble, "God's w-w-will isn't ssstupid." Suddenly once again, I wasn't even aware that I had actually fallen asleep, but I was back in Chicago; before the black sedan had come to take me. It had to be Saturday because I was home in the middle of the day listening to my father speak about wickedness. I didn't know what I had done, but I was sure the lecture was in response to something he hated about me. Those kinds of lectures always were. Joseph was sitting on the second step and I was on the tall wooden chair. The arms had nails that constantly worked themselves up. Joseph would beat them back down with a hammer, but within a week, they would poke up about a quarter-inch. My father had mentioned 'The Fallen,' who I knew to be my mother. I looked at Joseph out of the corner of my eye. His body tensed, but he had no other reaction. "Are you listening, Edward?" I jumped at my father's voice and turned my eyes to him. "Y-y-y-yes, ssssssir." I pulled my entire focus back to him. While my brother almost always tried to help me out when my father was angry, it was best to avoid my father's anger altogether. "Then He will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devils and his angels.'" I listened hard to my father as he read from the book of Matthew. His lessons always came with tests and I worried about failing. Failing meant more studying and more passages. More passages meant more chances to fail. The chair was hard and I wished the back wasn't so straight. I wondered why anyone would have built such an uncomfortable chair. I knew my father sat me in it because it was uncomfortable. He provided me little comfort because of the heavy mark the Devil had placed upon me. I was not like Joseph. My brother could listen to a passage just once and repeat the whole thing with no problem. His words were clear and unwavering. He didn't directly stand up to our father, but there was a gentle confidence he used because he knew he was righteous. Just like my father. Only certain verses would get to him. Only certain things would upset him. My father allowed him the luxury of emotional expression in those times, as long as he removed himself from the room and from my father's sight. I was never allowed to do that. I had learned very young that even in the quiet of my room, if I cried or made any noise beyond hushed prayer, my father would come and punish me. But sometimes I could hear Joseph in his room.

One time I peeked around the corner and saw my father pause outside my brother's door on the way to the bathroom. I had heard Joseph wail and it had frightened me awake. My father put his left hand on the door and raised his right hand up to God. My heart raced because the threat of punishment was always there. God didn't love those who disobeyed and I was supposed to be in bed. "And what book gave us those words, Edward?" I gasped for air at my father's hard voice, my body tensing. I hadn't paid attention, even after he warned me. I was frozen and yet my mouth was making horrible noises that were nothing more than stunted sounds. "Do you not know?" My hands clenched together and I looked over toward the stairway. "Joseph will not give you the answer." The decision had to be made. I could either admit that I wasn't listening and face certain punishment, or I could take my best guess and have a chance at avoiding it. "M-M-MMMMMatthew?" I asked since that was the last chapter I remembered. I was barely able to look at my father, but I could feel his hot stare. I was obviously wrong. "Joseph, please inform your brother which Bible verse he is to recite now." Joseph's voice was tight. "Ezekiel, chapter eighteen, verse twenty." My brain felt slow as I rummaged through all the passages in my head. "Edward," my father said and I automatically slid off the chair. My eyes were fixed on the hard wood floor. "Shirt, please." "I'll take it for him." My trembling fingers paused and I looked at my brother and then at my father. As much as I did not want the strap today, or any day, I wished that Joseph hadn't opened his mouth. I could feel the anger radiating off my father. "You are not Jesus, son. You are not here to wash away his sins." My father pointed at me and I dropped my eyes before he saw that I was looking. "So you will both be disciplined. Edward for sloth, and you for pride." I turned and faced my chair. All of my hopes to be free of the strap today were gone and now Joseph would get it for trying to help. There were times when I wished that he would just stop trying to save me. "Shirts, please."

My shirt fell from my shoulders and I knelt before my chair. I heard my father behind me, picking it up and folding it properly. "Ezekiel, Edward." I swallowed hard and tried to find my voice. The lashing would be lessened if I could make it through without stuttering. "The soul who sins shall die." The first lash struck me across the shoulders and I tried to contain my cry. "The son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father, nor the father suffer for the iniquity of the son." Joseph barely made a sound as he took his first lash. "The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself." I felt happy that I got it right. I usually had problems with 'R's. The next two blows from the strap took the air from my lungs and it took me a minute to recover. My voice was almost non-existent as I finished, "and the wwwwickedness of the w-w-wicked shall be upon himself." I glanced at Joseph as he received the strap again. My father had initiated one right when I stuttered, so the cut on my brother's flesh was deep. He arched his back and kept his hands behind his head, but it was clear to see that his fingers curled were tightly in his hair. He bit his lip and the only sound he made was a soft grunt of pain. Joseph was so strong. My father moved and before I could stop myself, I looked into his eyes. I instantly regretted it. The fire in his eyes was surely what Hell looked like. I turned back to the chair and tears leaked from my eyes. I had made him angry as well as having sinned. These would hurt. The heel of my hand found its way into my mouth and I tasted blood, but it helped take my mind off of the searing pain in my back. There was no telling how long it went on. My mind typically wandered during punishments when it could. There were times when my father would test me, so I had to be in the moment, but then there were other times when he was so intent on driving the Devil and his demons out of me that my thoughts could go anywhere. I thought of my mother and her voice that sang to me when no one was listening. I felt her arms around me. Sometime later, I stood with my hands flat on the vanity in the bathroom. I tried not to see myself in the mirror and to be strong like Joseph as he cleaned the open cuts on my back. "Why don't you pay attention, Edward?" he asked as he intentionally jabbed the washcloth into a sore spot. He was angry. I gasped at the pain. I felt bad that he received what should have been mine alone. My eyes filled with tears again. "I-I-I-I'm ssss-sssss-sssssssorry, J-J-J"

"Just shut up." He wiped at my wound harshly again and my legs buckled, but he caught my body and brought me back up. The anger was gone as he continued to clean the cuts and spoke again. "You bleed too much." Now his voice sounded empty, dead. When he had covered my back in ointment and laid an old cut-up piece of t-shirt over it, he moved away and sat down on the lip of the tub. "D-d-d-do you w-w-w-want" I wanted to ask him if I could clean his back for him, but he shook his head. "Leave it." I could tell he wasn't feeling well again. His head hung low as he rested his elbows on his thighs. "D-d-d-do you" "Just stop talking, Edward, he'll hear you." We were quiet as I held onto the vanity and I watched him as he breathed slowly. My back throbbed, but I ignored it for the most part as I waited. I wanted to go back to my room until the next lesson. It would be right before dinner and if I could focus, I could make it through without any more lashes. We already knew what the lesson covered, so I'd been practicing. I was fairly certain that as long as I didn't look at anyone or the strap, I could make it through the passage. "I need you, Eddie." I trained my eyes on his feet, my fingers tightening, as I shook my head. His voice grew tense again. "Fine. When you need me, I won't help you. You're so selfish it's not a wonder" I gasped for air and sat up straight. As my eyes adjusted, I recognized that I was in my room in Forks. I looked at my clock. It was after six in the evening. Movement startled me. My head whipped around to the couch. I could just make out her form in the dim light. "Bella?" She stood and stretched, yawning deeply. "Yeah," she said as she walked over to me. "Sorry, I fell asleep." "Hhhhhow d-did I g-g-get up here?" Bella sat down on my bed and brushed the hair off of my forehead. "You walked." Her hands moved to mine, as her thumbs swept over the gauze. "You were pretty out of it." I looked down at our hands and then back up at her. "Ssssorry." She gave a low chuckle. "Don't be sorry because you're sick." My stomach growled. "Charlie said I could only stay until seven, but there's plenty of soup down there for you. Dr. Cullen can

heat it up for you." "Sssstay." "I can't." "B-b-but I n-nnneed you, Bella." She smiled before pressing her lips against my sweaty forehead. "I know, but Charlie said I have to go. I've been here quite a while and I'm sure he's hungry too." "B-b-but tomorrow is" "I'll be back tomorrow. Alice said that she'd watch over you if you wanted." She wrapped me in her arms and I breathed her in. I loved Bella Swan. She hugged me until the absolute last moment she could stay and then she pulled away. With her hand on the doorknob, she turned around and regarded me seriously. "Don't give Dr. Cullen shit about the medicine. Just take it, okay? God doesn't want you to suffer, and neither do I." I looked away but said, "O-o-okay." If Bella wanted me to take the medicine, I would. "And ease up on your hands, okay?" She didn't wait for a response, which was probably for the best since I wouldn't have been able to give her one. The thought of her seeing me bite my hands was nearly too much. I hoped that I didn't talk in my sleep like she did. Who knew what she might have heard. I didn't want her to know all of the things my mind forced me to relive when I was sick. I didn't want her to think of those things when she looked at me. It was around eight when Alice came to help me downstairs. The table was empty except for a bowl of soup and a glass of room-temperature water. I had some but probably could not have said how it tasted. I heard Alice's voice but didn't listen to her words. Carlisle came in. I let him take my temperature, touch my neck and forehead, and I took his medicine when he gave it to me. Like the day I rode in the back of the black sedan, I recognized that the rules had changed. Although my father didn't believe in doctors, I lived with one now. More than that, Bella wanted me to take the medicine and allow it to heal me. Normally I didn't have all these issues separating the rules of my old life with those of my new one. Usually I could keep myself from remembering this much of the past. I typically dreamt every night, but those were more abstract dreams. The ones when I was sick were concrete and real. They were buried and my mind kept shoveling them up and shoving them forward. After Alice helped me upstairs, another dream waited for me when I could no longer keep my eyes open. I hated the basement. It was cold and damp. The lighting was poor. It was gray outside, so only a little indirect light filtered in from the small windows placed just below the ceiling.

I only came down here when I was forced. I tried to get out of it, but only received a back-handed blow from my father, who was more distraught than I'd ever seen him. The stairs were narrow. I had grown in the past months and my feet were big. I had to turn them sideways to feel safe going down those stairs. My body moved slowly, but my mind moved quickly. I knew when I got down to the third step from the bottom what I would see if I looked to the right, so I kept my eyes forward. I shivered and felt the bumps appear on my flesh. I wanted to turn and run back up the steps, but the fear of punishment kept me down there. The cold slab floor froze my feet through my socks. My fingers curled and my body tensed even more as I walked closer. I wouldn't look. I told myself not to look. I could do what I had to do without looking. I could hear the creaks of the floor-boards above my head. They were a reminder that my father had given me a task and it needed to be completed. I looked down. It was a mistake. The shaking panic that came with what I saw debilitated me. My body seized and I caved, falling down mere inches away. This was evidence that what my father said was true: God hated everything that I was. But my father had given me a duty and I knew that if I did what I was told, and I did it right, that I could earn favor with not only God, but my father was well. In my world, I knew my father was God. I would never say that to him. It would earn me hours of punishment to speak such blasphemy. I thought of the song my mother sang and slowly my body began to work. I crawled to the low cabinet, ever fearful that something would spring out of the darkness and capture me. I was in pain, but my father had said I deserved it. He said that it was the last hope of making me clean. With the bottle in hand, I crawled back. I whispered the Scriptures of the lesson I was given only an hour before. I tried not to look. I wondered how many more days I would need to do this before it was over.

I remembered my task and the need to pay attention. I started with the toes. I was nearly noon when I awoke to a throbbing headache. I still felt sick. The stairs seemed awfully long and I clung to the railing the whole way down, just as I had the day before. As much as I hated that everyone was in the kitchen eating lunch, I entered anyway. It would have been better had the Hales not been over. Every eye was on me. I eyed the coffee pot and took a step toward it. "Edward, you should have some food," Carlisle said, obviously knowing my intention. I knew coffee would be bad for me after not eating much in the past few days, but I wanted it. "There's yogurt," Alice said, pointing to her bowl and then to the open chair next to her. I moved to the island and folded my hands on top of it. I didn't want to sit next to anyone. I only came down here because I thought Bella might've come back. She knew what today was and she said she'd be here. My body felt weak, like my knees would just give way at any moment. "B-B-Bella?" It was interesting to see everyone stop what they were doing because they heard my voice. Everything was literally silent. It took a few seconds, but finally Esme spoke. "I'm glad to hear you talking today, Edward." I bristled when I heard my name. I didn't look at her. I wasn't talking today. I was merely inquiring about my girlfriend. Esme stood up and moved to the counter. I moved away and stood by the coffee pot. I nearly reached out, just to touch it. The smell was tempting me, but I knew that Carlisle would never allow it. I didn't have the energy to listen to a lecture about proper nutrition during an illness. She had acknowledged that I had spoken, and yet she, nor anyone else, would supply me with an answer. I sighed deeply and then repeated myself. "B-Bella?" Alice set down her spoon and finally answered me. "She called earlier to see if you were up. I told her you were still sleeping and so she said that she was going to take an open shift at work and she'd be over around five." My mood fell completely. I came downstairs for nothing. Bella wouldn't even be here for hours and hours. Now everyone had seen me and they were waiting for me either behave like a normal person for once or completely breakdown because they all knew what today was. With another sigh, I pushed off the counter, determined not to be today's painful entertainment and freak-out like they expected. I was almost to the hallway when I heard Emmett. "Do you want to play some Wii? We were thinking of doing a bowling tournament today."

He didn't say my name, but I knew he was asking m, but I didn't acknowledge him. I felt bad since I knew he would turn all of that inward and make himself feel like he did something wrong; that was he was a bad brother, a horrible person, and an ineffectual distraction to me. As much as I wished to alleviate all of that for him, I didn't have the strength, energy or resolve to do anything but continue on my path to my room. When I got there, there was nothing worth doing, so I lay down on the bed, knowing that I would fall asleep and be taken by my dreams, but I felt helpless to stop it. The dream started off fine. I was in the meadow with Bella and we were discussing the many attributes of Faramir. She was disagreeing with my assessment that his constant need to do right by his father had nothing to do with a competition with Boromir. She could think what she wanted, but I knew that Faramir and Boromir had nothing to compete over. Boromir never wanted to best his brother; he wanted to help Faramir win Denathor's favor. In my dream, I didn't stutter and Bella let me touch her face without flinching first. "Not everyone wants to take things from other people, Bella." "But Boromir didn't try to persuade his father to go easy on his brother." "We don't know that." I paused and looked up at the darkening sky. "Besides, Denathor made up his mind a long time ago. Faramir would never be his son in anything other than name." When I looked up, her eye brow was raised. "Boromir could have used his position as the first and preferred son to get Denathor to at least treat Faramir as something other than a failure." My muscles tensed and my fingers twitched. The soft edges of the dream were fading into a more realistic version of life. "It w-w-wasn't hhhhhis d-duty to sssssave me all th-the t-time." I realized what I had said and waited for Bella to catch it, but she laid back against the grass and flowers, tugging me down next to her. I needed to relax. We were talking about fictional characters in what was one of my favorite places in the world. Her fingers threaded through mine. "Not his duty, maybe, but I would have thought that part of being a good older brother was to" "Joseph tried!" "Ow!" I sat up, wondering why she had cried out like that. She writhed in pain and I felt frozen. I looked at her hands and realized that I was crushing them. Instantly, I let go. Darkness over took us and then I was alone. It was cold and damp and as my eyes adjusted, I realized that I was in the basement, looking at his toes. And then I was in my closet again, peeking through the crack of the door, watching the doorknob drip. Thankfully, knocking awakened me and I sat up quickly, fighting back a wave of dizziness as I made my way to the door and opened it. Alice stood there with a small tray of food. "Carlisle says you have to eat and then you need to take your medicine."

My shoulders slumped and I looked at the food on the tray. "Yeah, I told them you didn't like to eat in your room, but they seem to think you've gotten over that." I had no real interest in explaining that Bella and I had eaten a couple of meals in my room. I had no real interest in saying anything, so instead I sat down on the floor and waited for her to do the same. I managed a small smile when she sat down just outside my door, setting the tray between us. Alice had been in my room before, but I didn't want her in there today. The only person I wanted in my room was Bella. I craned my neck and tried to see the clock, but couldn't. Alice was intuitive enough understand. "It's a quarter after four. She called an hour ago to check on you." It lightened my mood just a little to know that even though she wasn't with me, she was thinking about me. It wouldn't be that long before she was here. I wished that I could have spoken to her, but I knew Alice was just trying to help me by not waking me up and she knew that my stuttering was even worse talking on the phone. "Eat some of this," she said, pushing the bowl toward me with her finger. It was Bella's soup. It tasted better than it had before. When I had eaten half the bowl, Alice pushed two pills toward me. I did not want to take the medicine. "Edward, if you don't take the pills, he'll just put it in a needle and give it to you that way." When I was eighteen, I wasn't going to take medicine if I didn't want to. In a few months, I'd be old enough to make my own choices. It wasn't right that my will was taken from me, even though I knew there was nothing wrong with medicine. But Bella wanted me to, so I carefully plucked one pill and took it with a gulp of water and then did the same with the second. "And Carlisle wants to talk to you," Alice added before taking the tray and standing up. "He and Esme are in his study." I gasped for breath. "I don't think it's anything bad, okay, justI mean, today isand you're sickand after, you know, Mikebeing suspended, I'm sure they just want to check in with you. No big deal." She stood there looking at me with such pity that it drove me insane and made me want to weep at the same time. Alice set down the tray again and crouched down next to me, her hands finding my hair. I closed my eyes and let myself just feel the comfort she gave me. "It'll be okay, Edward," she whispered. "Tomorrow's a new day and" I stopped listening. Tomorrow would be no better, but she didn't know that. Tomorrow would always be a new day, but I was stuck living through today. I missed my mom. But I had to stop being like this. I had to stop letting people pity me. I loved Alice's comfort, but I didn't want to keep taking everyone's pity. I couldn't talk right, couldn't emote right, I couldn't form human

connections right. Poor Edward. I stood up, forcing her to pull her hands away. I didn't know what Carlisle and Esme wanted, but the sooner I went and dealt with it, the sooner I could go back to my room and wait for Bella. Once Alice stood up, she reached for me again, but I evaded her hand. I did not want to be touched right now. I felt like any more sensation and I might explode from within. I waited until Alice and the tray were gone before moving down the hall. The door to the study was cracked. "It's the right decision," I heard Esme say. I fought against my panic. Carlisle's voice was deep and thoughtful. "I just wonder about the timing." "It could help." "It could destroy him too." "Sometimes it's in the ruins where people can rebuild their lives. I think he needs it, Carlisle. Benjamin agrees." Now, even though I was near-panicking, my interest was piqued. What did I need, beyond the obvious? I raised my fist and knocked, then slowly pushed the door open. I couldn't look at either of them, so I kept my eyes focused on the floor. I found the over-stuffed chair and sat quickly, hoping they wouldn't make me talk. "How are you feeling?" "O-o-o-okay," I lied in answer to Esme's question. "I have something for you." I looked up when I heard Carlisle's words. I thought of all of the Christmas gifts he liked to buy. Sometimes he was like Alice and couldn't contain himself. He would give us some early just to see our reaction. Gifts made me uncomfortable. He always put a lot of thought into what he gave us, but there were very few material things I wanted. Accepting them the first few years had been difficult, but I learned that refusing gifts hurt people's feelings. It only took a few tears from Alice, a downcast look from Emmett, and a simple sigh from Kate before I realized how my uncomfortable reactions could affect others. As much as I didn't want to, I needed to speak up. "B-but it's n-n-not Ch-Chr-Christmas y-yet." Carlisle couldn't seem to look at me for more than a few seconds at a time. Whatever it was he wanted to give me obviously made him nervous. "It's not a present, Edward." He sighed. "Or maybe it is, I don't know." I watched his hand as he slid something across his desk to me.

"It's important for you to understand that the decision to give you this has weighed on Carlisle for weeks," Esme said quietly, looking from me and back to Carlisle. I thought she would continue, but it was Carlisle who spoke next. "I only found it two weeks ago. I've beensearching for anything that might help you, and someone finally responded." Now I was really confused. It took me a few seconds before I moved, forcing my body to get back up and wishing I hadn't sat down in the first place. I walked over to the desk and saw that Carlisle's hand was on a CD. I reached for it, relieved when his hand slipped away. Both of them were looking at me as I took it and I felt very insecure and vulnerable. I grabbed the CD and left the room without being excused, but I needed to get away. Once back in the safety of my room, I powered up my computer, eager to see whatever was on this disk that had Carlisle so upset and unsure of himself. Even though my laptop was top-of-the line, it seemed to take forever to boot up. I inserted the disk. The media player automatically popped up and asked if I wanted to play the file named 122495. I clicked "yes" and instantly I was consumed. I forgot about the flu. I forgot about my pounding head. I forgot that Bella wasn't here and that I missed her. I forgot about what happened in my bedroom back in Chicago ten years ago. My eyes were glued to the screen, and all else ceased to matter. The world around me dissolved. ...

Chapter 51: Fall on Your Knees Bella I was fucking pissed. I took that stupid shift at work only because I needed a distraction, otherwise I felt like I would have gone out and smoked down with Jake and then let him fuck the shit out of me. Plus, they said it'd be quick and that they really needed me. I'd called and Edward was sleeping, so I thought it would be no big deal, but five o'clock came and went and I was pissed. I didn't give a fuck if these people needed food for Christmas or not. They shouldn't have waited until the last minute. It was a quarter till six when I finally clocked out. At that point, I practically ran to the police cruiser that waited for me. Charlie asked about my shift. I responded quickly and then requested that he drive as fast as possible. Of course, he was clueless and asked why I was in such a hurry, but all I said in response was that Edward was waiting for me. I felt like shit. Like complete and utter shit. On the one fucking day Edward probably needed me the most, I went to fucking work. Made no sense. I was the world's worst decision-maker. He'd been sleeping and Alice said that he'd probably be out of it until late, but I shouldn't have gone in anyway. I should have waited on Edward's couch so that I was the first thing he saw when he woke up. "You need to eat."

"What?" I turned to look directly at Charlie. "You've been at work and it's dinner time. You have diabetes," he said slowly, almost as if he was laying out the facts to a child. "You have to eat." "But Edward" "'But Edward' nothing." He stopped as if to emphasize his next word. " Bella. Bella has a disease that can kill her. Bella has to monitor her blood sugar. Bella has to remember to care for herself first and other people later." I turned back around to stare out of the window and rolled my eyes. "Talking to Hale much?" His words sounded just like something she would say. "No, actually I came up with those thoughts all on my own." "You're fucking killing me, you know?" I didn't look at him, but I could tell his face was probably a little red as he said, "No, I'm trying to make sure you don't die." "But today's Edward's" He cut me off again and I had to grit my teeth so I wouldn't explode in rude and hateful expletives. "It's a quick trip to the diner and then I'll drop you off." "But Charlie," I began again, obviously wanting him to change his mind. "But nothing. You're eating." At the diner, I pouted and felt like I was five as I waited for my cheeseburger and salad. It wasn't exactly a healthy meal, but Charlie made it seem like the only thing he cared about was getting food in my belly, so he didn't say anything. Nothing at the diner was healthy anyway. "What happened to your hands?" I looked down at my arms resting on the table and saw the light, fading bruises that Edward's hands had made. He hadn't meant to do it. When he was like that, I didn't think he even realized that he was holding my hands, much less hurting them. When I looked at them, I realized that I had quite a few marks on them from my wrists to my fingers. I pulled down the gray thermal shirt I wore under my hideous work shirt until nothing but the tips of my fingers showed. "Nothing." I refused to look at Charlie while he just stared at me. He was waiting for more information but I wouldn't give it to him. He would just blame Edward and he didn't understand. Finally he could obviously take it no longer and spoke. "If Edward's hurting you" Thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster that we had established the right to cut each other off when speaking because if I'd let him finish his sentence, I would have completely freaked out on him. "Edward's not capable of hurting me." "What happened to your arms then?" Again, I rolled my eyes. "Have you met Edward?" I obviously knew I was being sarcastic, but I was trying to draw Charlie's attention to Edward's mild-mannered behavior. "Yes, I have," he said, his voice low and hard, "and I found the day he broke someone's jaw particularly enlightening in regards to his capabilities. From what I heard, he had to be pulled off of that boy." My stomach tightened. "Mike deserved it." "Deserving a beat down and being put in the hospital are two different things. You keep saying that

the Newton kid deserved it from both Edward and Jake, but you won't tell me why." He shook his head. "But that's beside the point. Edward is quite capable of hurting you and so I'll repeat my question, what happened to your hands?" "Ohhhh," I said, drawing out the word and making it drip with all of the anger I felt. "I see, so you want to obsess about a couple of bruises from him holding my hands. I get it. This is what you need to fixate on to alleviate yourself of guilt for not bothering to care that I know pain way beyond a few bruises. Tell me, Charlie, where was all this concern when I was black and blue because your fucking wife used her fists and feet, and whatever else she could find, to make me hurt?" He looked away and I leaned close to him. "If I knew you had this much parental concern in you, I would have taken pictures of all the marks she left when she slammed me into the walls. I could've e-mailed you pictures of my tongue the day she burned it. I could have" "I'm just trying to protect you, Bunny." He was looking me in the eyes now. "I don't need shit from you and thinking that you'll ever protect me from anything is wishful thinking on your part. Edward had a fucking reaction, his hands tightened, and he didn't mean to do it. You need to back off before I remind you that I was in town for less than three days when you slapped me." His face reddened and his expression fell. "Bella" "Where was your need to protect me that day?" Both of us tensed, but quieted when the waitress dropped off our food. I ignored Charlie as I ate my dinner. It wasn't until we both reached for the ketchup bottle that I even looked at him again. I yanked my hand back when it touched his. His eyes caught and held mine. "I'm not going to stop being concerned about you, but if you say that Edward hasn't hurt you, then I'll let it go." "He hasn't." Charlie nodded. "But if you come home with any more bruises, I'll" I didn't need to listen to the rest. I knew it would be nothing more than masculine over-protectiveness with thinly-veiled threats to lock up or hurt Edward. At this point, all I wanted was to choke down this poorly-executed excuse for nutrition and go to see Edward. I had no idea what his day had been like, but I knew that he usually had some real trouble pulling himself up out of heavy shit like today represented. All of the light was fading as I rang the Cullens' doorbell. My stomach hurt and I felt like the worst fucking girlfriend on the planet. Of all the days for me to fuck up! Emmett opened the door. I didn't look at him; I just invited myself inside and up the stairs. When I reached Edward's door, I knocked quietly. I probably should have stopped to get some kind of status report before seeing him, but I felt desperate to let him know that I was here and I was incredibly sorry for leaving him hanging like this. I knocked again and a few seconds later, the door opened slowly. "Edward," I began quickly, and launched myself at him, "I'm so sorry. I didn't think that I would be" "B-B-Bella?" I stopped talking, pulled away and looked at him. He was wearing the same pajamas I'd left him in. His hair was messy, even more than normal, and he looked confused. Maybe he still had a fever. Maybe he didn't even know what today was. Or maybe he was sedated or I glanced at his hands, tightly curled at his side. If he was sedated, they would be open and loose.

"W-w-what are you d-d-doing here?" "What?" It was all I could ask. All day I'd hated myself for leaving him alone and now it seemed like he didn't even notice. He stood there like a statue, his eyes tired and his mouth hanging open. I put my hands on his stomach and pushed him a little, hoping to wake him up. "Edward?" He took a deep breath and blinked. Suddenly he grabbed my hands and pulled me inside his room. Then he shut and locked the door behind us. I was surprised to find myself pressed against the door, enveloped in his tight embrace. But it wasn't a chaste embrace. His face was buried in the crook of my neck, his tongue and lips doing absolutely mind-numbing things to my skin. His hands were greedy at my waist and hips and I tried my best to balance how badly I wanted to just go with it and how the logical part of my brain screamed at me to make him stop. I wasn't scared for myself, but for him. He wasn't like this. This wasn't Edward. More and more he was using this kind of thing to distract me but I had to wonder with the importance of the day if he was now using it to distract himself. Jesus motherfucking Christ! He lifted me up, his hands holding me up under my thighs, and his body pressing into me. I couldn't fucking think about anything other than his warm body and how long it had been since I had Fuck. I brought my hands from his hair to his shoulders and pushed lightly. He didn't stop, so I pushed him again with more force, and when his mouth kept moving on the skin of my neck, I finally spoke up, "Stop." It took him a long second, but he finally did, pulling his chest away from mine but keeping me deliciously pinned against the door with his hips. I fucking wanted Edward Cullen and here he was with his dick pressed against me and no real indication that he wanted to stop. But it was the anniversary of his mother's death and something inside of me screamed that it wouldn't be right to let this happen. I unwrapped my legs from around his hips and pushed on his chest until he let me down. He still didn't move, so I had to duck around him to get a little space. "So, um, I'm sorry I'm late." I thought acting like I didn't almost get fucked against the door by my sexy bronze boyfriend was the way to go. "How are you?" I glanced up. He was looking down at me like he was confused again and I wondered if he was actually inhabiting this body at this point. "Edward?" I said, wanting to draw him back to me. "Are you okay?" Very slowly, he answered me. I could tell that he wasn't chemically sedated, but something else was at work here. "I'mggggood, Bella." "You are?" I totally didn't believe that for a second. "I've hhhhhad a g-ggggood day." Now I was confused and was sure my face conveyed that. "W-what?" I turned to look at him, but he'd moved and I couldn't see his expression. This shit was weird and I had no experience with stuff this deep. Should I draw attention to his bizarre behavior, or should I pretend like everything was cool?

Fuck if I knew. But shit was quiet and tense, so I moved to his computer, intending to put on some music. His iTunes was already open, so I sat down to find something neutral to listen to, but as I studied the opened playlist, my confusion deepened. "Why do you have like fifty versions of O Holy Night?" I heard movement, and before I knew what was happening, I turned around to see him quickly moving toward me. Or rather, to the laptop. He moved so fast that his arm sort of hit me as he slammed the top down. I pushed the chair back and it was a good thing I did, otherwise his retreating elbow would have made contact with my face. "Jesus, Edward. I just asked a fucking question." "D-d-d-don't take the L-LLLLLord's n-name in vvvvvain." What. The fuck. "Seriously?" He looked at me then and I cocked an eyebrow, wondering who the fuck had replaced my Edward with some fucked-up, mindlessI stopped my train of thought. Edward just got like this sometimes. It wasn't his fault. I had to remember that it wasn't his fault. He retreated to the bed and perched himself on the edge. "Ssssssorry." Good. The life had returned to his eyesa little. "What the fuck is up?" I immediately felt like shit because his expression was so pained that I nearly broke from it. Slowly, he stood back up and moved back over to me. I kept out of his way and watched as he opened up his computer again and then the Media Player. I wondered what was coming. With a step back, he stood next to me for a second before he took my hand. I guessed he wanted me to stand up, so I did, letting him lead me to his bed where we both sat on the edge. He stared at the computer screen. I was so busy looking at him that I forgot the computer was running. "W-w-watch. She's w-wearing b-b-b-blue." He looked star-struck and child-like. I turned to the screen and saw a small-framed woman with red hair in a blue dress sitting very properly on a stool with a microphone in front of her. It was obviously his mother. She looked different than in the photograph, but it was her. There was another woman with a violin behind her. "B-b-b-blue is m-m-my ffffffavorite c-color." I looked at him. I already knew that, but he was so far removed from the present moment that it would've been useless to tell him. I'd been focusing on him again, but my breath caught and I had to look at the computer again once she began to sing. Her voice was absolutely, heartbreakingly beautiful and there could be no mistaking where Edward had gotten his musical talent. O holy night! The stars are brightly shining, It is the night of Our dear Saviour's birth. Long lay the world

In sin and error pining, 'Til He appear'd And the soul felt its worth. His lips moved as hers did, right in sync with his mother. I thought perhaps it was just because he so obviously knew the song, but then he pointed at the screen without saying anything. Just then, his mother stood up and smiled. "Edward," I said, drawing out his name cautiously, "how many times have you watched this?" He didn't respond and after a while I almost asked again in case he didn't hear me. Truly He taught us To love one another; His law is love And His gospel is peace. Chains shall He break For the slave is our brother; And in His name All oppression shall cease. "W-w-wait," he whispered, his eyes never moving. And so I did. Long seconds later, a shock of rusty hair darted toward her. Even as she continued to sing, she picked up the little boy and held him to her. I turned to look at him. "That's you." Edward nodded, his body curling inward. "That's mmmme." "Edward?" My heart bled for him. "I mmmmmiss mmmmmmy mmmmmom," he choked in a quiet sob. I tried to take his hand, but he stood up and clicked a button and the whole thing started over again. He just kept sinking into himself as he listened again, his body growing weaker with every word and note. His shoulders shook and I wondered how long it had been since he let himself feel the pain of losing his mother. I knew he wore his pain every day, but it wasn't like this. The second time I heard "fall on your knees," his mother's voice steady and strong, I saw the tears roll from his eyes and just the sight of them cut into me. His mother seemed to have been his whole life and she took hers right in front of him. He let me wrap him in my arms and we sank together to the floor. As I held him while he cried, it hit me completely that he had watched his mother blow her fucking brains out when he was seven fucking years old. Fucking seven. It was strange how much I hated my own mother and how much he absolutely loved his. But now was not the time to reflect on those things. Edward's body was shaking and I needed to do something for him. I had no clue what I should have done. I felt out of sorts. Just a little while ago he'd me wedged against the door with his mouth sucking on my neck like it was the nectar of the gods. I threaded my fingers through his hair and he held onto me. I felt his hot tears soak into the fabric of my work shirt and then into my khaki as his head very naturally came to rest in my lap. There was no way I could comprehend the pain he felt right now. Everything inside of him had been boiling for a long time and now he couldn't keep the steam in. He was so fucking strong for everyone

in his life and I doubted he ever let himself completely break down. I was at a loss, wondering how he was able to even function. He shifted and then pulled away. Then he moved on his knees to the computer and pulled it down from his desk. He settled back down, his head in my lap again, and made the whole thing start from the beginning. I still had no idea what I needed to do, so I just ran my hands through his hair and he cried as he watched his mother sing. Over and over again, he'd push enter and the scene and song would play again. His body continued to shake and at one point I heard his voice sing with her. It was faint, just barely there, but I heard it. It was just as lovely as hers. After I'd heard the song probably twenty times, I let the video run until the song was over and I watched his mother kiss his younger self on the cheek, and then I reached over him and shut the laptop. "I think that's enough, okay?" "N-n-nnnnno." He sat up and started to open the computer again. My hands on his stopped him. "Stop," I said quietly, but firmly. Edward's eyes flicked to mine and I felt as though he was trying to reach my soul. "B-b-b-but sssssssshe" "The video's not going anywhere, Edward. You need to give it a break, okay? I know you feel like" "C-C-C-Carlisle gggggave it t-to me. It's mmmmmmmine! Hhhhhhhe d-d-d-d-didn't ssssssay I c-c-c-couldn't" I took his hands again and squeezed them. "This isn'thealthy. Justjust" I stopped because I was totally in over my head. I didn't know what the fuck to say or do to help him. I felt like shit for making him turn off the video of his mother, but I kept my hand on the closed computer. Finally, after what seemed like an intense battle of wills, he gave in and slowly sank back down, laying his head in my lap once more. Again, I stroked his hair with one hand while letting the other rest between his shoulders. I noted that he was no longer too warm and I hoped that he was on the mend now. I wondered when that video was taken and if this was something that happened every year. None of it made sense to me. Edward's father didn't allow music from what Edward had told me. How had his mother gone from looking healthy and relatively happy holding her little boy, to someone so fucking whacked-out that she could blow her fucking brains out in front of that little boy? I didn't understand and I had no clue how to help Edward through this shit. I held him like that for a long time. My legs were numb. I didn't know if he was sleeping or not. I sort of wanted him to be asleep and sort of didn't. Sleep would be good for him, but having witnessed his sleeping habits when he was sick, it didn't seem all that restful and was somewhat scary. I'd seen him biting his hands in his sleep. Not now - thank the Flying Spaghetti Monster - but when he was really sick. He never said anything when he dreamed, but it seemed like he had mini-panic attacks. There were times when it seemed like he didn't breathe at all and others when it was like he couldn't catch his breath. His body would arch up, his hands would curl tightly, and his jaw would clench. I felt helpless. But now, he was just lying on me, perfectly still. I had no idea if I should just continue to sit with him or try to get him to relax on his bed. There was no hand-book for the girlfriends of guys who had watched their mothers die in horrible ways.

Suddenly, Edward tensed again and then sat up straight. He craned his neck. I looked to see what it was that he was looking for and found the clock. It was nearly midnight and I wondered how it had gotten so late. Reaching out, I brushed back his hair again, hoping that the new day might help him some, but his face was still troubled. "What?" I asked, feeling tired and unable to ask a proper question. "JJJJJJJ" Edward sighed instead of continuing. I took his hands in mine and ran my thumb over his knuckles. "Relax." Instead of relaxing, his body tensed back up as his eyes never moved from the digital numbers. His hands were progressively tightening on mine and while I knew I could take the pain, Charlie had said if I came home bruised he'd get involved. No one would understand this shit wasn't his fault. No one would believe me that he didn't mean to do it. With a lot of effort, I pulled my hands out of his before he could use too much pressure. I ended up nearly falling over, which didn't help the disorientation I already felt. "Edward, what?" "JJJJJ-JJJJJ-JJJJJJJoseph," he ground out. I shook my head because I had no idea what the time meant in reference to the brother he never spoke about. "I don't" I began but stopped when Edward rose to his knees, turned to the bed, placed his hands together, and started whispering words that came out fluent and unbroken. This shit was fucked. I had never been so happy to have the family I had as I was right now. His fucking family had fucked him up good. I moved back, still seated on the floor, and just watched him. Like before, I wondered if Edward was even in that body, or if it was some kind of conditioned, mindless drone propelling him to do these things. I was sickly fascinated, but after a while, I couldn't bear to watch much longer. I glanced back at the clock. He'd been praying or chanting or doing whatever the fuck he was doing for over twenty minutes. "Edward?" He didn't respond. Where the fuck was Dr. Hale? Why the fuck wasn't Dr. Cullen helping him out with all this? Did this shit happen every year? I didn't get it. It hadn't been that long ago that Edward told me his beliefs about his god, and I knew that they couldn't have been those of his father, so why was he suddenly reverting to this old programming? As far as I knew, he'd been away from his zealot family for five years now. But how the fuck was I supposed to know what the fuck was happening? Maybe he did this whacked-out shit every year. "Edward," I tried again. He didn't do anything, but continued praying in that creepy way. I moved closer to him, figuring that if his ears had turned off, maybe he could at least feel me. It was probably a crazy-stupid move on my part, but I sort of pressed myself up behind him, just wanting to give him the comfort of a hug because he liked that shit. It was the wrong thing to do. His body damn-near snapped in half. He just froze for a second and then fucking crumpled.

I felt like shit again. I was fucking this all up. I wasn't what he needed. He'd spun around before crumpling, so now he was lying all fetal-like, facing me. I knew I couldn't touch him, so I sank down and just lay next to him. Edward wasn't crying anymore but he was biting down on his hand. His teeth were tearing into the skin and flesh between his thumb and index finger. His jaw was tense and his lips were red from the blood. I raised my hand very slowly and gently took his. Pulling it out of his mouth was a difficult task, but with my other hand moving slowly to his hair, soothing him in the only way I knew how, I was able to get him to release it. "Edward?" I felt powerless except to say his name until he came back to me. This wasn't him. My Edward wasn't curled up on the floor, debilitated by the memories of the past. This wasn't Edward and I wanted this thing in front of me to go away and bring back my sweet and strong boyfriend. "Edward, baby?" His eyes finally fixed on mine. I gave him a steady smile of hope. "Come back to me." He licked his lips. He blinked. And then he spoke. "T-today is JJJJoseph's b-b-b-birthday." Holy fuck, would this shit never end for him? Could the universe not just throw the guy one small break for once? I had no idea why the mere mention of his brother threw him into panic-mode, but I wished Edward didn't have to deal with it, especially coupled with the memories of his mother's suicide. I asked what kind of mother not only shot herself in the head while her son watched, but also did it the day before her other son's birthday. "Christmas Eve?" Edward nodded. "He was born on Christmas Eve?" I didn't know why I asked again, but I felt like it needed clarification. "Hhhhhhe w-w-was G-G-GGGGGGGod's g-gift t-to mmmy p-p-p-p-parents. T-t-t-to us." I felt too fucking tired to comprehend the enormity behind that statement. Even if I sat and pondered that shit for a week, I would probably never come close to what the fuck it actually meant. "W-wwwwwill you sssstay w-with me, B-Bella?" I nodded. I had insulin here and Charlie had given me permission to stay the night. I would go home in the morning and then come back for Christmas Day dinner. "W-w-wwwwill you sssstay w-with me ffffforever? I don't wwwwant to be allllone." I thought my heart was unbreakable. I'd worked so long and hard to make it that way, but I felt it crack and blister and fucking boil with sadness for him. I watched as his eyes closed and he snaked his body closer to mine. I hugged him to me and let my eyes close too. ... He barely slept, and I didn't sleep at all. He grabbed me tightly in the middle of what had to be some kind of fucked-up dream. I was pressed up against him tightly, his arms locked behind me. I took small short breaths, knowing that at some point, his grip would loosen. I was so close that my eyes could only focus on his mouth. It was so beautiful, even set in a frown like it was. His lips were

parted and in the darkness, I studied his teeth. Suddenly, he gasped for air and his arms held me tighter. It took a moment, but his breathing regulated and his arms relaxed, but only slightly. My work shirt and thermal had ridden up and his hands moved on my back, his fingers almost caressing the bare skin. I was pretty sure that he was awake now. I tried to move, but it was difficult. He didn't let go. I was pressed so fucking close to him and when he got hard against my thigh, there was nothing I could do but feel it. And pray Dear Flying Spaghetti Monster, please erase all of the bad things in Edward's past so that I can feel his fucking dick inside me. Please let him thrust that thing into me in a firm and rhythmic manner. But above all, please, please, please, give me the strength to not jump him. I didn't want to press for sex because now was not the time. He was all damaged and stuff. He could still be sleeping. I loved the feel of him against me. As he pressed his lips to mine, I realized that he was most definitely not sleeping. Oh, fuck me. Edward motherfucking Cullen was groping me. His arms had moved. He brought one hand to my tit and the other one was on my ass, keeping me pressed against him. It was a kind of uncomfortable to be lying on one of his arms. It threw my spine out of alignment, but holy fuck a little bit of discomfort was worth it if he kept squeezing my breast like that. In the back of my mind, I knew I needed to stop what he was doing. He wasdistraught. Even though he'd used his hand to make me come that one time, he hadn't done it again and now all of a sudden he was acting like fucking Casanova. My brain was warring with itself about what to do: stop Edward or go with it, when he rolled us over and was motherfucking ON. TOP. OF. ME. Holy shit. What the fuck was I supposed to do and did he really just thrust his hips and erection against me? My eyes rolled back as he started to kiss and lick at my neck. I was utterly powerless. All I could do was run my hands through his hair and clamp my legs around his waist. Everything was tingling and my body felt fantastic wrapped around his but I had to pull myself out of the moment to analyze the situation. What was my responsibility as his girlfriend? I thought maybe I should stop him, but my clouded mind reminded me that I was his horny girlfriend and if he wanted to be all sexy with me, I should let him. Right? No need to draw attention to his issues if he wasn't. My horny mind made a great point, so when he pulled my shirts off, I let him and went with it. My hands moved to pull his off as well and I was happy that he let me. His back didn't arch when I ran my hands over his skin. All he did was kiss me harder and pull the cups of my bra down. If this was a distraction, for either of us, it was an excellent one. He lowered his upper body, and the feel of his naked chest against mine was almost too much too take. I'd lost track of how long it had been since I'd had sex, but my body was so very, very ready for it. I was trying not to make any noise. I didn't want the moment to be ruined and who knew what the good doctors were up to. Perhaps they would step in if they knew what he was up to in here. They treated him like a child. But when he continued to move his hips into mine, his dick rubbed against my clitoris and I could no longer keep quiet. I held onto him and arched my body up. His hands moved purposefully to my hips

and brought me even closer. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped my khakis. I lost the feel of him against me for a second while he pulled my pants from my legs. His hand was between our bodies when he started sucking on my nipple. I was completely naked and for the first time since I started high school, I sort of wished I wore panties. It felt like everything was going incredibly fast. It felt like I was speeding toward some kind of goal that couldn't be adequately defined and I was actually a little afraid. Edward wasn't usually domineering in any way, yet he was manipulating me completely. He didn't have this kind of sexual experience, and yet there was a confidence about him now that was incredibly sexy, but also a little worrisome. Apart from that one time, we'd never been here before and I worried that he might panic. Of course, I also worried about how he wasn't panicking either. What the hell did that mean? He was aggressively driving me toward an orgasm and even though I really wanted to have that release, I lifted up onto my elbows. "Stop." What the fuck was I doing? Orgasm. Moments away. And I say 'stop'? His hand stilled and he pulled away. His brow was creased, but he didn't look defeated. "I c-can do this," he whispered and I wasn't sure if he was telling me or himself. I had nothing to say back to him and when his hand began to move again, I lost all my will to figure out why he was doing it. He was on his knees between my legs, his fingers pushing into me as his thumb continually brushed against my clit. I watched him as he watched me. As much as I wanted to check in with him to see if he was okay, I was absorbed in the moment. The tension within me snapped and my muscles tightened and then relaxed. My body dropped to the floor and my eyelids fluttered closed. My breath was heavy and my head was light. When I could, I sat up and his hand withdrew. I rose to my knees in front of him and didn't know what I should do. He didn't like being touched, but I wanted to give him something back. I knew that I could make him feel good physically, but I had no clue how to make that happen mentally too. He was hard. There were no pants in the world that could conceal that fact from me. But he wasn't looking at me. The look on his face was justheartbreaking. I worried that I caused it. I shouldn't have let him do that for me. I should have stopped it before it ever got going, but now here I was, naked and goose-fleshed with a sad boyfriend who refused to look at me. I took his head in my hands and brushed my thumbs under his eyes while the tips of my fingers moved through the hair behind his ears. Tilting his head, I tried to look into his eyes, but he kept shifting them away from me.

"Edward?" I whispered. "I'm sssssssorry." "For what?" He had just given me an orgasm. An orgasm from Edward needed no apology, that much was for sure. "You ssssaid st-stop." Oh. I moved his head again, trying to get him to look at me. He wouldn't, so I kissed the very edge of his mouth. "You did stop," I whispered. "But I" "But nothing," I interrupted him. "I let you" "I sssssshould've s-ssss-st-st" He couldn't get the word out. This whole thing was obviously fucking with him and I felt like shit because I should have stopped it before it started. Now we were stuck in this murky gray area where he thought he crossed some kind of line and took my choice away from me. "I wanted you to...I mean, I wanted to keep going." Fuck, that was confusing. Edward's breath was hollow and he shook his head. "W-why did you sssssay s-ssss-sssst-ssst" It was clear that he wouldn't be able to say the word 'stop' right now. I'd noticed that there were times when he could say something easily, and then just moments later had to fight with the word for it to come out at all. "Because I wanted you to stop." He took a sharp breath in and tried to pull his head from my hands, but I held firm. "And you did." I leaned in and kissed him, and then whispered against his lips, "You did stop. You didn't hurt me, Edward. You didn't take anything away from me." Why the fuck did all this shit have to be like this? Why couldn't he just be happy and proud that he'd given me an orgasm? Why couldn't I just thank him in an appropriately physical way without worrying that he'd freak-out? I could tell he didn't believe my words, so once again, I repositioned his head and this time I made him look at me. "I let you do that. It was my choice. I would have stopped it if I wanted it to be stopped." "Lllllike w-w-with MMMMMike NNN-NNewton?" My heart and lungs stopped. My stomach flipped. I felt sick. I dissected his words. My hands fell away from him. I sat naked on my knees in front of him and yet felt most exposed by the four words he'd just uttered. Was he saying that I wanted that shit from Mike? Was he implying that I was a whore? Was hewas he saying that just like with Mike, like with Renee's boyfriend, I just let himI just let him? Fuck, I couldn't even finish the fucking thought. What must Edward think of me? What must he think of himself to categorize himself with someone like Mike? I still had no idea what happened that night, but my gut told me that I hadn't wanted it. But what Edward was saying was that I had let it happened.

Shhhh! Quiet, Bella. I swallowed hard against the rising bile. All the memories of just letting it happen assaulted me. That's my dirty girl. He wasn't wrong about me, though. I had let it happen. The only difference was that this time, with Edward, I wanted it to happen. What was I supposed to have done? With Newton, I couldn't think straight. He was almost done by the time I'd opened my eyes. If I had tried to make him stop, he would've And with the man with the short brown hair and the skull tattoo? I knew what he would do if I didn't just let him. And the others? I felt removed from Edward's room as voices in my head replayed themselves over and over. Voices of men and boys telling me to turn this way or that; telling me to be this way or that way. I felt his hands move to mine. "B-Bella, I'm ssssssorry." Fuck this shit. I pushed him back. I didn't want him to touch me. "Don't talk about what you don't know." He didn't fucking know what happened in that bathroom with Newton. He didn't know any of it. His hand brushed my cheek and I batted it away. My wrist hurt from where it struck his. "Bella, I d-didn't mmmmean" I looked at him. Obviously what he saw in my eyes took his words away. I couldn't figure out why he would be so intent on giving me an orgasm, only to essentially call me a slut afterwards. "What the fuck? Why don't you just tell me I'm a whore and get it over with?" His eyes widened and once again he reached for my hands. "N-n-n-no! Th-that's not w-w-w-what I" "Then what? You think I'd just let you do something I didn't want you to do?" I pulled my hands from his and noted the sadness in his eyes. They were watery and it looked like tears could spill from them at any moment. I looked down and he was still hard. I wondered, not for the first time, about all his 'issues.' I wondered about what he'd 'let' happen to him and whether he felt he could help his reactions or not. Without really knowing why, I reached for his fabric-covered erection. I'd just barely wrapped my hand around it when his hands rose up and pushed mine away. It hurt, but it wasn't like I didn't expect it. I shouldn't have done it. I shouldn't have even tried to touch him. I knew he wouldn't like it and I knew that with all of the heavy emotional baggage of today, it wasn't the right time to try, but it was done. After a long while of neither one of us doing anything, I moved away from him, grabbing my work shirt and finally covering up. I hated this shit, this fucking distance between us. It seemed as though no matter what either one of us did, we always seemed to wind up in the same place. I glanced at the clock. It was nearly five in the morning. "I'm going to make coffee." I grabbed my pants and pulled them on, looking down at Edward as I did. I was suddenly struck with the need to make it better. I didn't want to be mad at him and I didn't want him mad at me. "Will you come make coffee with me?" He just barely shook his head. I was just about to ask why when I realized that nothing had changed. He was still hard and he probably wouldn't feel comfortable leaving his room at all right now, but I needed to be out of there. I needed to be away from the gravity of him. I needed to fucking think and

process. "Um, I'm going to" I didn't finish because I'd already said the word "coffee" twice. He knew what I was going to go do. I knelt back down next to him. I didn't want to leave with him thinking I was mad at him. He'd asked me just last night to stay with him forever, and I didn't want him to think I was just going to run away. I didn't want shit to be weird between us. I kissed him gently on the cheek. "I'll bring you a cup." Without looking at me, he nodded. The coffee was already made. I didn't speak to Dr. Cullen as he sat and read the paper, although I felt his eyes on me. As I poured two cups, I wondered if he really knew the shit his adopted son had to go through on a daily basis. And if he did, how he could just calmly sit there, reading the newspaper like anything in this house was normal. I knew he was a good person, but I had to wonder what the fuck he thought he was doing. Of course, he probably wondered the same thing about me. After I checked my blood sugar and messed with my insulin, I made it back to Edward's room. I'd left the door ajar, so I just pushed it open. He was sitting on the floor, watching that video of his mom on the computer. For the next hour, I sat next to him, sipping coffee, watching him watch it. When I left, he barely looked at me. I wondered if I should even bother returning tomorrow. I wondered if I did, if shit would be any better than it was right now. ...

Chapter 52: What Can't Be Burned Bella It was Christmas Eve and the Swan house was anything but the epitome of holiday celebration. Charlie and I ate dinner in front of the TV. We watched one of those Christmas kid's movies from before my dad was born. He seemed to enjoy himself. I was bored but didn't feel like being in my room. My head was still fucked from being with Edward last night and this morning. If I was alone, I felt like I might go crazy. Or if not crazy, I might've gone smoked some pot. So as much as I didn't really like Charlie's company, I sat on the couch while he drank beer in the recliner. When I got up to get more water, I noticed a folder with paper wedged between the wall and microwave. I pulled it out and read quickly. It was all about statutes of limitations and contained words like 'neglect' and 'abuse.' One paper was about sexual abuse. I instantly felt sick. I stormed into the living room and interrupted the signing reindeer on the television. "What the hell's

this shit?" I held up the folder and waited. Charlie's eyes darted to the folder and then back to me. He took a deep breath and finished his beer. "I'm going to put your mother in jail and when you tell me which one of her boyfriends hurt you like that, I'm going to kill him." My stomach dropped and my heart pounded. "What?" He sighed. "Well, I won't kill him since that'll leave you by yourself when they execute me, but I'm going to send his ass to prison." "What?" I asked again at his matter-of-fact, almost casual tone of voice. "You can't" "They deserve to be punished, Bella. I don't have to know the details of what you went through to know they deserve to suffer for it. That guy could be doing those things to someone else and" I threw the papers at him and crossed my arms over my chest. "Well, I won'tyou can'tI mean you need me to say" "Your hospital records speak for themselves. I wouldn't need you to testify against your mother." I was going to throw up. My shoulders hunched. "Don't," I whispered, just barely able to get the word out. "Why?" Tears flooded my eyes and I couldn't help it when they fell. "I don't want to see them again." I took a stumbling step backwards at the thought of being in the same room with my mother, with him. "Bunny, you need to think about this" "I don't want to think about it! I won't do it. I'll say you're lying." He stood up and I all but retreated from the room. The red-nosed reindeer was long forgotten even though I could still hear his stupid voice. "Bella." "Please?" I wasn't beyond begging. I didn't want this. I didn't want to have this shit dragged out into the open. She wasn't in my life anymore. He wasn't in my life anymore. If I saw them, if I had to tell anyone else about any of it, I would surely die. I felt like death would have been preferable. "Please, Charlie, don'tI'll do better for you. I'll do better in school and I'll watch my mouth and I'llI mean, if they come here or I go there, I'llyou know, I can't." I felt desperate. I felt like I had to come up with some reason to keep him from doing what this. It wasn't that I didn't want them to go to jail, but what if they didn't? What if I got sent back there? What if they were angry? Renee knew where I was. "Dr. Hale lied. He didn'tI mean, he didn'tdo what she said and my mom didn'tI made that u p. I wasn'tI can'tCharlie, don't do this." I looked up and saw through my tears that his hands were held up like he was telling me to hold on, and calm down; back it down a notch. But I didn't feel calm. I couldn't hold on and I couldn't hold back my emotions at all. I was nearly

sobbing now. I didn't really know why. I wasn't trying to defend them, but I didn't want to see them again. I didn't want to hear his name ever again. I didn't want the whole fucking world to know what he did. I couldn't let that shit happen. Edward said that it didn't define me, but when it was in legal papers, if it was in the newspapers in black and white, when every fucking person knew about it, how could it not define me? I would always be the girl he fucked. I would always be his victim. It would say that on paper. It would say that I let him do that to me. It would say that I let my mom hit me. It would say that I was a poor, neglected, fragile, abused kid. I couldn't let that happen. "Charlie, please," I whispered again. "Okay," he said quickly. "Okay." He bent down and retrieved the papers. "We'll table it for now. We won't do anything." I felt like a weight had been lifted from me. I recognized that he didn't say that he'd let it go completely, but I would take what I could get for right now. I sat down again after giving him a nod and hoped he would see how grateful I was. We finished watching the show together and while there was tension in the room, I felt a little better about spending this time with him. He backed down when I asked him to. He didn't force the issue and it seemed as though he respected my wishes enough not to press. When he flipped it to the ESPN. I went upstairs to wrap the two presents I had for Edward and the one I finally found for Charlie. I was frustrated beyond belief because no matter how I did it, the presents turned out looking like a two-year-old wrapped it. I took the paper, tape, scissors and Edward's presents downstairs and stood in front of Charlie. When he looked at me, I sighed deeply. "I bought a Christmas present for Edward and I keep trying to wrap it and it keeps looking like shit." He cocked an eyebrow. "Can you help me?" I could've added that I'd never wrapped a gift in my life, but I didn't. He looked taken aback, but he kicked the footrest down on the recliner and said, "Um, sure, Bells." He stood up and I kept still. "I don't know if I can do any better, but I'll try." He took a cautious step toward me and I held my ground. His hand extended and I gave him the gift-wrap. "Let's go over to the table." I let him lead me to the kitchen and watched him from a few feet away as he spread out the paper. He turned and extended his arm, and I stopped myself before my instinct to step back won out. I handed him the scissors and then the tape. He showed me how to wrap the small one and then gave me a questioning look when he saw the second gift. I shrugged. "He'll like it."

We were silent as I tried to watch what he did. If I was going to wrap his, I would need to pay attention. I was suddenly struck with the urge to explain to him why this would be the first year he'd get something from me. "I wanted to send you gifts every year," I began quietly. Charlie paused and listened. "But she wouldn't let me." He craned his neck to look at me. "I would make you shstuff though." I shook my head. "She always found them andwouldn't let me send them." The sad look in his eyes was like looking into a mirror. I retrained my focus back to the presents. "Did she give you the gifts I sent for you?" "No," I answered quietly. "Sometimes she would make me give everything to those places that help needy kids. I wouldn't know what was in them. It was easier that way, but other times, she" "What? She what?" I wrapped my arms around my mid-section. Everything in my life was so emotionally draining. Why couldn't I have at least one conversation that didn't leave me feeling like the walking dead? "She would un-wrap them or let me do it and then I'd have to burn them." "She made you burn them?" I looked up when I heard his shocked voice and his expression hurt me. It reminded me that while Renee's fickle fancies were normal for me, they weren't for the rest of the world. Normal kids didn't have to burn their gifts. "She said that you didn't really love me. That you only sent them as emotional blackmail to make her feel like shit." Your "daddy" doesn't love you, Bella. He doesn't want you. Nobody does. He only sends these to make me feel bad for not wanting him. "Bella, I" And just wait until I tell your precious "daddy" how bad you are. He won't want anything to do with you. I'll have to beg him to take you for the summer. "That's not true," his words cut through and I finally looked him in the eye again. "I sent those things to you because I wanted you to have them. It had nothing to do with her. I never wanted to hurt her." When I didn't respond, he mumbled something about Renee and prison, but I chose to ignore it. He finished wrapping Edward's presents and then handed them to me. "I got you something," I blurted, not understanding why. "It's not wrapped or anything, but I canI can give it to you."

Charlie smiled at me. It wasn't a purely happy smile; it was more sad than anything else, but it was still a smile. "Do you want to wait until tomorrow?" It seemed stupid to wait until Christmas. We didn't have a tree and I doubted he'd celebrated Christmas in a long time. I knew I hadn't. Besides, I wanted to go over to Edward's as soon as possible tomorrow to check on him. I hoped he wouldn't still be sitting in front of that stupid computer. "I can give it to you tonight," I answered. At his nod, I left to retrieve it. It turned out that the Thriftway brought in gifts for the holidays. I hoped what I bought for Charlie was good enough. When I returned, he was in the living room again and there was a brightly-wrapped box on the coffee table. I stopped. "What's that?" I asked, pointing to it. "It's your present." "UmWhat is it?" This time Charlie's smile wasn't sad. He chuckled softly and nodded toward it. "You have to open it to find out." "Oh." I looked down at my feet, feeling awkward and suddenly fragile. Of course I had to open his present to find out what he'd gotten me. He'd bought me a gift and he was giving it to me in person this year. Renee wasn't here to shove it in my face and then take it away. "Here," I said, holding his unwrapped gift out to him. I was having a hard time looking at him, but I peeked up a little. He took the book and smiled at it. "It's probably really shitty and nothing you need and" "Gifts aren't always about what you need. And this is great. I guess you could tell I kind of like sports, huh?" I nodded and chewed my lip. I felt stupid, but I hoped that he did like the book. It chronicled Seattle's professional sports teams from their inception to the present day. I thought maybe he'd like it, but then again, maybe it was stupid to assume things like that. "Do you want to open yours?" I felt a little panicked as I glanced over to the box. "Ummmm..." "It's okay if you want to wait. It'll be here in the morning." I didn't know what I should do. What was the protocol for this? I didn't feel comfortable with a gift at all but if he wanted me to open it now, would it be rude not to? Plus, if I opened it now, I could go over to Edward's with little hassle. "Um, I guess, I'll open it now."

I picked up the box and set it on my lap as I sat down on the couch. Very carefully, I tugged on the paper, not tearing it as I peeled back the tape. Charlie laughed and I looked up. "What?" "You used to just rip it open." The smile faded just a little. "But you were just a little girl then." I'd come to recognize that I wanted to regain some of that innocence I apparently had at some point, so I ripped the paper and smiled. I didn't remember opening many and I kind of liked the sound. The box was nothing but plain cardboard. I opened it and slid out a black nylon bag that had a long strap. It was heavy. I unfastened the clasps and rolled it out. "Holy shit," I said as my eyes took in what could only be described as a fuck-awesome knife set. These weren't regular knives. It was a knife kit, the kind real chefs used. It had sixty-two pieces, and it wasn't all knives but spatulas and cake decorating tips. This was expensive and he'd bought it for me. I look up at Charlie's smiling face. "This is for me?" Again, he chuckled. "Who else would it be for?" He shrugged. "I couldn't think of nothing else. You don't seem like the frilly-type and I can't tell which colors clash to save my life, so I got the knives. You cook a lot, so I figured they might make it easier or something." "Charlie, these are" No words came to mind. "Do you like it?" "Fucking-A, I do." He cocked his head and gave me look. "Bella." I couldn't help but smile at his chastisement for cussing. "Sorry," I said, feeling stupid for smiling this big in front of him because of some stupid kitchen utensils, but I couldn't help it. "But you do like the knives, right?" I ran my fingers over the handles of a few and worked hard to keep the tears from my eyes. I'd cried enough in the past few months. "Yeah, they'rethey're perfect." ... I was incredibly happy, not because it was Christmas morning, but because I was steps away from Edward's door and I couldn't wait to see him. I hoped that he was doing better. It was Christmas after all and both of us had experienced our fair share of miserable Christmases. I wanted to do what I could to make this one better for him. I knocked on his door and waited until it slowly opened. I wanted to see him, but he was already away from the door by the time it was opened enough for me to get through. He was on his bed, his legs drawn up close to his chest. His arms were wrapped around them. "Hi," I greeted softly. I got a sad little smile in reply. I locked the door, put his gifts on his desk and moved to the bed. "How are you?" His eyes shifted to his computer. The gloomy expression on his face nearly broke me. I crawled onto the bed and sat on my knees beside him.

"C-C-Carlisle t-t-took it aw-w-w-way." I put my hand on his bicep, but his eyes never left the computer. "Hhhhhhhe sssssaid I c-c-could only w-watch it ffffive t-t-times a d-day." While I thought that it was a good rule, I couldn't help but feel for him. "Hhhhe g-g-gave it to mmmm-mme. I-it's m-m-mine and hhhhhe w-w-w-w-w" he finally gave up, but I knew what he was trying to get out. Before I could say anything, Edward changed the topic. His stutter was pretty bad today. "I-I-I'm ssssorry ab-b-bout the other n-nnnight." "Me too," I said, not wanting to relive it. Well, I could stand to relive the orgasm, but the guilt and confusion that followed I could live without. I took a look around his room, noticing all of the things that weren't there before: A fairly old-looking violin, a new guitar, and a few books, but I focused on a certain small-stringed instrument. "What's that?" "A g-g-g-gift ffffrom E-Em-Emmett. It's a u-ukulele." He slowly got up and it, then rejoined me. He held it and started strumming. It sounded good, like Hawaiian music or something. "I-it w-w-was sssssupposed t-to b-be a j-j-j-j-jjjjjjjfffunny g-gift." I smiled. "But you already know how to play it because you're a fucking musical genius." He smiled back at me and I was happy that he seemed just a little bit better. Then he stopped strumming and placed it on his bedside table. I moved into his now open arms and smiled against his chest. I loved how he smelled. "You're so fucking awesome." That was when I saw a stack, a motherfucking stack, of presents on his couch. "What are those?" "P-p-p-p" so I pulled out of his embrace and looked at him. His smile was sweet and I knew if he could push the words out, he'd tell me all those gifts were for me. "That's way too much." We hadn't discussed it, but he shouldn't have gotten me that much. I didn't spend much money on the shit I got for him. "N-n-no it's n-nnnot." I studied him. For a while there, before we were boyfriend and girlfriend, his stuttering had gotten better. It still seemed better than when I first met him, but I wondered if there was something about our relationship being defined that made him anxious. I didn't mind his stutter, but he did and I wanted him to feel comfortable. I noticed that when I made reference to it lately, he would tense up. His breathing had increased and his hands were twitching. My looking at him was making him

nervous, so I pressed my lips together and gave him a smile before getting up and moving to his desk. With presents in hand, I moved back to the bed. I held them out to him. "They're stupid." His smile shifted until it was lopsided and his brow stitched together as he took the gifts out of my hands. "N-n-nnnot stupid." "You say that now because you have no idea what they are. Once that paper's off" Raising an eyebrow, he silently asked permission to open them. I nodded, but gave a little shrug to let him know that I was nervous about it. He unwrapped the smallest one very carefully. I watched as slowly, the little box was revealed. He turned it over in his hands. "I painted it." His smile widened and his fingers found the small clasp and flicked it open. I nibbled on the inside of my cheek, waiting to see what he thought of it. I didn't know much about giving gifts, but it seemed as though I was getting a little too intense waiting for his reaction. The tip of his index finger disappeared into the tiny container and moved the contents around. Inside, I had placed about twenty different guitar picks of every shape and color. When he looked up, his smile was huge and relief flooded me. "I lllllllove it, Bella." I bit my lip because his declaration made me uncomfortable. I set the next gift on his knee, anxious for him to open it quickly. I wanted this part over. I didn't know how to react to all of this. He set the box down beside us, almost reverently before carefully peeling back the paper and revealing a simple black frame. He turned it over and his eyes focused on it. "I-it's your lllllonely ear." I simply nodded, but I was extremely happy that he remembered the picture from my portfolio. He stared at it for long minutes before placing it to the side and squeezing my hands gently. "I g-got you ssssomething t-too." He moved quickly, grabbing up the presents on the couch and bringing them to the bed. "Aliiiiice w-w-wrapped them." I smiled. "Charlie wrapped yours. It looks simple, but it always came out looking like shit." He handed me a gift and I took it slowly. "You shouldn't have gotten me anything, Edward." "You got mmmme ssssomething." I rolled my eyes, the smile remaining. "I know. It's weird, right?"

"A-afffter you t-told mmme that you w-weren't g-g-going to." I smiled, remembering that day in the little bookstore. I looked down at the bedspread and we were quiet. "Y-y-you hhhhhave t-to o-open it." I breathed out, cracked my knuckles and focused my eyes on the corner by his closet. The fingers of one hand fiddled with a loose thread on my jeans while the fingers of the other hand smoothed over the gift in my lap. "Bella?" "What if I don't?" "W-what?" I knew he didn't understand. I knew there was no possible way he could, but there was a rock in my stomach. There was this burning sensation of dread about opening his gifts. I knew that I would like them. I didn't have to see what was under the bright paper to know that they would be perfect, but I felt nervous, like I didn't want them exposed. "What if I don't un-wrap them? I mean, I couldtake them home and sit them on the shelf and they'llI'll always see them and they'll remind me of" "B-but then you'll nnnnever know w-what w-was in them." Finally, unable to put it off any longer, I looked up at him. My voice was thick with emotion even though I tried to suppress it. "I don't want to burn gifts from you, Edward." He cocked his head to the side as his hand moved toward me. I clenched my teeth, but didn't flinch. His index finger traced my scar as his thumb brushed the line of my jaw. "Y-your mmmmm-mmmom's n-not here. A-and eeeeven if you b-b-burned the p-p-p-p, gifts or llllost them, you hhave other things of mine." I tried to think of things I had that belonged to him and other than a rock, two gloves, a hat and some e-mails, I couldn't come up with anything. "What do I have of yours?" I whispered. His thumb brushed under my eye and he gave me a shaky smile. "You hhhhave my hhheart, Bella." He paused and his eyes seared into me. "And that c-can't b-be burned." I smiled. "How are you so perfect?" He shook his head and I smiled, knowing that he'd try to tell me that he wasn't. I knew the truth, so I changed the subject. "How are you feeling? Better?" He nodded and looked at my lap and stroked my cheek again. "O-o-open it, please." I looked down. Right. The gifts.

I opened the first one slowly and removed the paper to reveal a soft leather-bound book. The pages were blank and when I looked at him questioningly, he responded, "Ssssso you c-can write again." The thought of it made me nervous. My arm still ached from the night my mother found my journal. It didn't surprise me that Edward had remembered my comment about taking pictures instead of writing. I wondered if he had any fucking clue how amazing he was. It took a half-hour to unwrap all of the presents he gave me. In addition to the journal, he gave me those Austen books he bought me in Olympia, five homemade CDs entitled "Songs That Bella Likes," and a new portfolio for my photos. I was getting hungry, so I checked my blood sugar. I moved to get off of the bed, but Edward's hand caught my wrist and I looked back at him. "W-w-will you ask C-C-C-Carlisle if I can w-w-w-watch m-mmmmy" "Have you watched it five times already?" He looked down and nodded. "Then he's not going to let you have it, right?" Edward looked back up at me, the hope in his eyes almost painful. "B-b-b-but if you a-ask hhhhhhe'll lllllet you ssssssee it." I shook my head and dashed his hope. "He's not stupid." I moved off the bed once he dropped my wrist. "Come on, I'll make you lunch." He shook his head again. I wondered how much he'd eaten since he got sick. It couldn't have been much. It took some coaxing, but he finally came downstairs and ate with me. Then we returned to his bedroom without saying anything to anyone. Maybe he hadn't said anything to his family all day. He got like that sometimes, using on his verbal issues as an excuse to not deal with other people. I suppose someone might think lying in a bed all Christmas day was boring as fuck and worthy of the title "Worst Christmas Ever," but not me. So far this was the best Christmas I'd ever had. One year Charlie took me to California, so I spent three days wishing I lived there, but the doom of going back to Phoenix weighed on me. This year was wonderful because my head was pillowed on his shoulder and my leg was hitched on his, and my body was pressed against his side. The only thing that would have made it better was if he wasn't just getting over the flu and he wasn't super-bummed about his mom and his brother. He looked better today though; his skin was back to being one color instead of weird splotches of red. I knew he was upset that I didn't ask Dr. Cullen for that video back, but this was one instance where I think an authority figure had done the right thing. Edward would've watched that thing until his computer pooped out. I had no idea how long we'd been lying there, but all of the sudden, he was taking off my shirt and then quickly removing his. I couldn't even get out "What are you" before my pants were gone.

Except for my bra, I was naked in his bed and the only thing I could think to do was watch him as he pulled off his own pants. I was pretty much rendered speechless after that because the sight of him in dark blue boxer-briefs just about made me faint. I wasn't lying when I'd told him that the anticipation was fucking great, but Edward in his underwear was going to drive me insane with want. I felt frozen, not out of fear, but because I was completely at a loss. I was on my back, propped up on my elbows, knees together and feet apart, waiting for whatever was going to happen next. And I had no fucking clue what it could be. He could very well hump me just as soon as he knelt down next to me and prayed. His mind had to be going a mile a minute, because I knew that look upon his face. He was either fighting a panic attack now that we were both nearly naked, or he was warring with his own thoughts against whatever Bible passages were knocking around in there. I really wanted to sit up and push him down onto his back. I would take off this stupid bra and get rid of those boxer briefs straightaway. I'd probably moan a little too loudly when I sank down on him, but it would be worth it, even if we got caught. I had to stop my train of thought and remember that I was letting him take the lead. So I just waited and tried to keep my thoughts as clean as possible because otherwise, I could not be held responsible for my actions. His hands were curled tightly and I could see the tension in his body. As always, I worried that he would break himself in some way. I was doing nothing to help him and his anxiety didn't seem to be easing up. Moving to my knees, I touched his shoulder and then ran my hand tentatively down his back. He stiffened and drew in a deep breath. He was on his knees as well, so he was still taller than I was in that position. His shoulders hunched and then ever so slowly, his hands uncurled and moved to my hips. They didn't linger long though before they slid around my back and he brought me closer to him until his face was buried in my neck. He didn't kiss or lick or nip. He just breathed heavily. My arms moved around his shoulders, one hand finding the hair at the base of his head and scratching it gently. "Edward," I said quietly, using his name to draw him out of whatever darkness existed in his mind. "This isn't really you, you know?" He took his time answering, but when he did, it was impossible not to hear the conviction in his voice. "It c-can be." Absolutely nothing sexual happened, even though it was clear that his body was ready for it, and I knew that I was. We sort of eased down onto the bed and his head was on my chest while he lay on his side. We were in exactly the opposite positions as we were when we were fully clothed. His breathing began to slow with each passing moment. The intensity of this situation threatened to fuck with my calm. I didn't really know how to handle any

of this. I didn't know what was going on with me, but I never would have thought that I could stick around this long enough to get to know him this well. A shiver ran through me and the stillness of our moment together was broken. Edward moved, but only to pull the blue knit blanket folded on the foot of his bed up over us. He resumed his position next to me and we just held each other under the covers. It was strange and weirdly exciting. Everything with Edward was strange and exciting. It was all new. New for him, and new for me. Oddly enough, I fell asleep and when I awoke, I found him still sleeping. I rolled to my side, careful not to disturb him too much. His arm was draped over my waist and his head was now on my bicep. He looked so much like a peaceful child when he slept, but I knew as soon as his eyes opened, I would be greeted by the deep green eyes that had seen too much. I was too much in the moment to really study his scars when he was kneeling before me, but I could see that the serpentine lines that covered nearly all of his back and shoulders, extended down past the elastic of his underwear. They continued down his thighs, almost to the backside of his knees. Thinking about them made me sad and drove home that while he might look like a sleeping child, Edward hadn't been a child in a really long time. Just like me. I pushed back the hair that was hanging over his forehead and in his sleep, he smiled. "Tell me about your mom." It seemed like Edward needed to work shit out and while I didn't need to hear about brains splattering and blood gushing, I figured that perhaps he'd like to tell me something good that he remembered about her when she was alive. Plus, I thought it might make him slightly more comfortable given our current position. "Sssshe had r-r-r-red hair." I rolled my eyes and smiled, once again brushing the hair off his forehead as we lay there, our nearly-naked bodies pressed against each other. "I kind of gathered that, Edward. Tell me something else." He thought for a moment, his eyes closing as I ran my fingers through his hair. "Sssshe liiiiked coffee." "And had a beautiful voice," I added. It was one of the only good things I knew about her. "Ssssshe d-didn't t-t-talk a lot." "Like you." His voice was sad. "Liiiike mmmme." Something about the way he said it made me wonder. "Did she stutter too?"'

I had Googled that shit. One article had mentioned that it could run in families. His eyes opened, but he rolled onto his back and looked away from me. "I d-don't know." "No? You don't remember or you don't know?" His sigh was exaggerated and heavy. I knew I shouldn't have asked. He always got upset when I mentioned shit like that. "Why do you get mad when I say stuff about your stutter?" He didn't say anything as I scooted closer to him, but after a while, he answered. "I'm nnnnnot mmmmmad." "Bullshit." His eyes opened and he turned his head to me. "Because I d-don't wwwwwwant to sssst-sssst-stutter, Bella. I don' t wwwwwwant you t-t-to know I'm d-d-d-d-different. B-because I don't w-w-w-w" He was turning red with the force of his words and it upset me that he was so clearly frustrated. "Baby, stop." I was trying to console him, to make him feel better, but he sat up and cut me off. "I hhhhhhhate it." I had to remind myself not to look at his back, and to focus on his face. "I hhhhhhhhate that I hhhhhhave f-f-ffffifty m-m-million thoughts to ssssshare b-b-but I c-c-can't even gg-ggg-ggget out one!" He took a deep breath as I sat up. I kissed his shoulder and tried to think of something to make it better. "Look on the bright side. You've had a pretty girl almost naked in your bed all day. Most seventeen-year-old guys can't say that." Edward looked at me and I wasn't sure if he was going to take the bait. "You're b-beautiful." I took his hand and placed it on my breast. Even though he'd touched me like this before, he still gasped. I placed my other hand on his back. "Why are you so scared of this?" He looked at me for a moment more before shifting his eyes away. "B-b-because I" he stopped and swallowed hard, "I hhhhhave m-m-m-more ssssscars than jjjjust the ones on my back." I didn't know exactly what he was talking about, but I did know that there was no scar bad enough to make me not want him. "I don't mind." "B-b-b-but I d-do." He took a quick look at me before shifting his entire body away from me. "A-and you w-w-wwwwill t-to. You jjjjjust d-don't know it yet." "What does that mean?" I still had one hand on his back and I moved the other to his chest, but again, he shifted, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, his back toward me. He didn't answer. Instead we spent the next hour sitting next to each other. My bra finally came off and we sat with my back to him, between his legs. I could tell he was harnessing his breathing as his hands moved over my body.

I resisted the urge to squirm against the erection that poked me in my back. I wondered what his face looked like as his hands explored. It was probably much easier for him to do this without my eyes fixed on him. His hands were light and they were driving me crazy. When one of them moved between my legs, I gasped and he faltered for only a second. He didn't make me come, but that wasn't what this was about. This whole day seemed to be about slowly increasing his level of comfort with me. I had no idea what he had meant when he said he had more scars than just the ones on his back. I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but regardless of what physical signs of trauma still lingered, it was obvious that Edward was trying to move past the mental and emotional trauma. My time with Edward ended awkwardly. With our clothes back on, he asked one more time if I would see if Dr. Cullen would let him watch that damn video again. I felt so fucking bad for him, but there was nothing I could do. I didn't feel comfortable asking and I certainly didn't think he needed to see it again today. It was the kind of thing people obsessed over and it wasn't hard to see Edward getting so absorbed in the video of his mother singing in a blue dress that he forgot about everything else. His hands tightened on mine when I told him no, but not painfully so. His neck was bent and I swear I felt a tear-drop and land on my shoe, but I didn't look him in the eye to see if he was really crying. He wouldn't have liked that. Instead, I closed my eyes and kissed him softly. When I was home, all I wanted to do was go upstairs and help my poor, frustrated body out by producing an orgasm myself. But Charlie had other plans. We had to talk about the party at Sue's and then he showed me the Christmas gift in the basement he bought for both of us. It was an elliptical machine. He said he thought it would help manage my diabetes. I rolled my eyes, but as much as I hated to admit it, I knew it would be good for both of us. I would use it in the morning. Before I was finally able to go upstairs, Charlie scanned the visible skin on my body, I assumed for any outward signs Edward had hurt me. "There's no bruises," I said, annoyed. "He didn't give me a Christmas beating or whatever you're thinking." "I'm sorry you're so upset that I worry about you, Bella, but he" "Don't," I said quickly, not wanting to hear anything negative about the best person I knew. "Esme's son is over there a lot too, right?" I shrugged. "Yeah." "All the more reason to worry about your safety." I took a step away, wanting to distance myself from his concern. "It's not like I hang out with him a lot.

Typically it's just me and Edward. Jasper's with Alice most of the time." I narrowed my eyes, wondering why he was asking. It was fairly easy to put together what went on in his mind. I wouldn't necessarily call Charlie a "simple" man, but his mind worked quite linearly. His thoughts were definitely not complex webs. "Do you know what happened? To his dad, I mean?" I asked. "Yeah." Of course he knew. Nothing dark and shameful seemed to be hidden in this little town. That was quite annoying, actually. "And?" Charlie shook his head and retook his seat in the recliner, his hand curling around the can of beer on the arm. "Ain't the kid's fault his daddy was the way he was. He did what he did to protect his mother and sister. I can't blame him for that, but it's left him a little, uh, a little extreme at times." He glanced at the television, took a swig, and then a deep breath. "I've seen him bawl like a little boy, and then be so angry I thought he was going to kill someone. I've also seen him when he was justjust empty. There was nothing, I mean, nothing there." I had seen Jasper empty as well, the day when Alice cut herself, and I had seen him absolutely enthralled with her, a smile so big it broke his face. I had yet to see him angry and I wondered what it was like when that happened. I felt uncomfortable. Deep-down, I didn't want to know all these things about the people around me. It was easier when I didn't know. "So what is it about Forks? You guys make it a town-wide contest?" Charlie quirked his eyebrow in question. "Who can collect the most messed-up kids?" A wry smile settled on his lips. "Not a contest, just kind of like the Bermuda triangle of troubled youth." But it wasn't just the youth. I didn't say it, but I still thought his relationship with Sue was on the fucked side and Jake's dad had nothing valuable to offer his son, in my opinion. The smile faded and his eyes locked with mine. "There's just somethingnot right about Esme's boy." For whatever reason, his statement, true though it may be, made me angry. I swallowed down useless words and settled for, "There's something not right about me too." He wanted to say something anything - to deny my words. He wanted to tell me that I was okay, that I wasn't fucked up like the rest of the kids who shared my Friday nights, but I couldn't let him do that. There was no need to lie. Instead of 'goodnight,' I remembered what day it was, so I said, "Merry Christmas," before grabbing my gifts and disappearing into my bedroom. We didn't have school until after the New Year's. Mostly I hung out with Edward and went to work.

Honestly, it seemed that all I did was worry about him. He stayed fixated on the video of his mother and while I never wanted to see my mother again, I understood why he would fixate on her image. I didn't know how to help, so I just tried to be there for him. I attempted to reason with him when he'd made a copy of the disk and could watch it any time he wanted. I loved his rebellious streak and for the most part wanted to yell "Fuck you" with him to every authority figure that tried to control our actions, but it was painful to watch him every time he saw and heard his mother sing. He was excited about her blue dress, quiet when her voice began, smiled when she did, and nearly caved in on himself every single time she held him on-screen. It was heartbreaking and I hated how much I hurt for him. I asked him to only watch it a few times a day. I didn't specify a number, like Dr. Cullen had, but he needed to control that shit before it was all he did all day long. I couldn't tell you how many fucking times I'd heard O Holy Night! I could probably say that I heard every version Edward downloaded at least ten times. After school started back up, he got a little better. He was forced to focus on something else. Since Christmas, we hadn't had many 'almost-naked' times together, although it seemed like he was able to go further than before. His hands pretty much went wherever they wanted on my body, except my face. When he did touch my face, he was slow to initiate it and very careful to notice any signs of my discomfort. As far as my roaming hands, I was able to touch his back, under his shirt whenever I wanted. No matter how intimately he touched me, it still seemed impossible for him to let me touch him in a similar way. I wasn't surprised at that, but I was slowly working to change it. I was, however, surprised at how restrained I could be. It was getting easier to hold back, to not jump on top of him and force the contact. January seemed to pass crazy-fast. I had to have a check-up with Dr. Cullen. He said that he was proud of how well I was managing my diabetes now. Like I had any other choice. Valentine's Day was interesting. It was amazing to work the days leading up to it and see how crazed guys got over buying chocolates and flowers. When I arrived at Edward's house, I found that pretty much everyone was out, with the exception of the two doctors. He met me at the front door, smiling as he took my hand. We went straight up to his room and for the first time in my life, someone gave me flowers. They were beautiful and I thanked him, but what he gave me next was better. "I w-was ggggoing to buy you an o-orchid, b-but thought this was fffunctional." I smiled at him as he handed me the potted aloe plant. It made me insanely happy that he remembered small little conversations we'd had. "Thank you," I whispered. This was a nice, soft moment and I didn't want my voice to break it. "I just got you gummi hearts." I pulled the package from my back pocket and you would have thought I gave him the best present ever with the smile he wore.

He moved to the bed with the candy and I set the aloe down next to the flowers on his desk. His laptop was closed. My fingers skimmed the top of it and found that it wasn't warm. "Did you" I started to ask as I turned around, but stopped when he shook his head. "Good," I responded softly and moved to the bed. As soon as I sat down, he scooted back and folded his legs. I moved back and sat with my legs tucked under me, facing him. The package of candy crinkled as he opened it. He held it out to me, offering me the first piece. I shook my head and watched as he ate a few. Jesus, his jaw was nothing short of perfect. How did this guy manage to keep how fucking hot he was a secret? It baffled me how the entire school, with the exception of Jessica, had missed that he was the perfect representation of a god. I looked down and noticed his feet were covered by white socks and I wanted to take them off and look at his perfect toes. When he looked away from the bag in his hands and locked his eyes on me, I gave him a little smile, which he returned. His was sort of playful and I couldn't help but study every line of his face. I was incredibly happy that he was doing better. For at least a week now there I hadn't seen a religious book out and he hadn't said anything that sounded Biblical. His smile, coupled with eyes that, I swear, twinkled, gave me hope that he was much, much better. It wasn't the first time, but I wanted us to not have to deal with heavy shit and just have fun together like other kids our age. I fucking hated that his dad fucked him up so much and that his mother blew her fucking brains out in front of him. I hated that whatever happened with his brother hurt him so much that he could barely even say his name. I hated that he had to deal with my shit at all. I just wanted to be normal with him. "Is everyone at the dance?" Edward nodded as he twisted the bag to close it and then tossed it up to his pillows. "I think we should have a super-crazy dance party of our own. You can turn the music up really loud and we'll jump around like idiots." His smile widened and then he moved closer to me. His mouth found mine and he sort of forced me back until I was lying on his bed with him on top of me. He was careful not to put his entire weight on me. I absolutely loved that he felt comfortable doing this. I loved when he took the initiative. Our lower bodies were pressed together as my legs wrapped around his hips and he buried his face in my neck. I noticed the last time we were like this that he could tolerate small hip movements that created friction, so I rolled my hips and tightened my fingers in his hair. I felt him draw in a deep breath and I continued my actions. A half-hour later, he was sitting up, struggling to compose himself as I watched him. I lost myself for a second there and reached for him. I just wanted to feel him in my hand, but it made his breath catch. Then he was fighting an attack.

"I'm sorry." He nodded as his breathing returned to normal. After some more focused breathing, he turned to me, smiling sheepishly. I sat up and pushed the hair away from his face. "Come on, I'll make you dinner." I tugged on his hands. I was happy there were healed now. Every once in a while I saw teeth marks, but nothing that tore the skin too badly. When Edward didn't move, I turned back, fearful that my touch had done too much damage. "What?" "W-w-we already hhhhave dinner plans." "We do?" He nodded. "Who's cooking?" He shrugged. "C-C-C-Carlisle hhhhired a chef." "Really?" I had never heard of hiring a chef for some stupid made-up holiday like Valentine's Day. "Ffffffor hhhim and Esme, b-but we can eat too." "With them?" He smiled at my lackluster tone. "Up here." The details weren't really as important as the fact that we sat on the floor eating while we listened to music. If I were ever to live with Edward, we would eat dinner on the floor every night. His laptop was an arm's reach away and when he was finished, he set our plates on the desk, carefully moving everything so that little bits of food wouldn't touch anything. When he was settled back down, I moved to him, lying down and pillowing my head on his extended legs. His shins weren't comfortable, but I thought putting my head on his thigh at this point might start another panic attack. Edward reached for the computer and I had an overwhelming sense of dread that he was going to start playing O Holy Night! again. "Please don't play that song." He gave me a questioning look. "I can't hear it anymore. Seriously, I get why you're into it and all, but" "Mmmmy mmmmom w-would sing it t-to me all year llllong. It w-w-was the only song I ever listened to b-besides other Christmas hymns of p-p-praise." I sat up. "What?" I truly didn't understand. "W-we were only al-l-llowed to l-listen to mmmusic at Ch-Ch-Christmastime. Mmmmy mmmom sang that song to me w-when she wasn't s-sssupp-posed to."

He'd mentioned before that he was kept from music. It still made me angry that he was denied that kind of expression when it was clearly a part of him. I felt bad for her too. She was obviously so gifted, just like Edward. "I've b-been r-r-remembering mm-mmmore lately." I remained silent. He rarely divulged this kind of stuff and I didn't want to interrupt him. "One t-time hhhhhe hhhhheard hhhher." "What happened?" I asked. He turned away. "I-it w-was the l-lesson ffffor the n-night." "What does that mean?" "He p-p-p-punished her. N-n-no one c-could go to bed until sssshe undersssstood it was w-w-wrong to sing." I really didn't want to ask but I knew that he'd stop talking if I didn't. "What was her punishment?" "B-b-b-but the next day, she still sang t-to mmmme." I smiled at the soft pride in his voice, but realized that he didn't actually answer my question. "So you got her reddish hair, her musical talent, and her rebellious nature. I like those qualities." "Sssshe didn't sing to J-J-J-J-JJJJJoseph." I took his hands in mine and rolled my thumbs over his scarred knuckles. "Why?" "He t-t-told her t-to stop." Edward never spoke about his brother. It was strange to hear his name. I wanted to understand. "He didn't like her voice?" "Hhhhe d-didn't like hhher b-being p-p-punished. I w-w-was selfish." I tried to get him to look at me, but he wouldn't. "You were selfish because your mom chose to sing to you?" "I sssshould've" I wasn't going to let him think that it was his responsibility as a little boy to save his mother from his asshole father. It was her right to sing to her babies if she wanted to and if Edward had told her to stop, maybe she would have blown her brains out earlier. "Joseph should've let her do what she wanted. It was probably one of the very few comforting things in her life." Edward shook his head and finally his eyes locked with mine. "J-J-Joseph w-w-was the light of J-Jesus, Bella." I just looked at him for a second, hoping to the fucking FSM that he wasn't going to descend into another Bible-quoting robot session again.

"And what were you?" He did not hesitate. "The d-d-darkness of the D-Devil." I let go of his hands and pulled my hair to the side. I was so tired of Edward thinking he was evil or wicked. "That's your father's whacked bullshit. It's not true." He didn't listen to me. "Hhhhe said I c-corrupted her." "No," I said, drawing out the word while shaking my head. "Pretty sure it was his fucked-up rules and the heroin that did that." Edward blinked. "Did you d-d-do okay on your English p-paper?" I guess he was done with sharing. We spent the rest of our Valentine's evening talking about school and listening to his iPod on shuffle. "How are you, Bella?" I wanted to roll my eyes. She almost always started with the same simple, but loaded question. How am I about what? "I'm alright." "Could we talk a little bit about your health?" "Again?" We had spent time discussing my diabetes the last two sessions. "Yes, again." "Why?" I looked up as I heard paper shuffling. Dr. Hale had a folder on her lap and was sifting through the contents. "I think managing diabetes is a fairly big task." I agreed with her, but said nothing. "You weren't given any help as a child, but only one of your many visits to the hospital was due to complications with diabetes." I remembered. I was probably only nine or ten. The ambulance had to take me from school to the E.R. Renee came later. She pretended to be so concerned with my dangerously elevated sugar, but couldn't remember what I had eaten or how much insulin I used. I covered up for her, saying things like, "Remember, you told me not to eat that PopTart, but I did anyway and I forgot my insulin?" I spent the night in the hospital. Renee was mad because she had to stay as well. "Is it more difficult here to manage it?" I knew why she was asking. A few weeks ago, after Valentine's Day, my sugar spiked through no fault of my own. I had taken the right amount of insulin and had eaten the right foods. I monitored my sugar; just like I was supposed to, but it happened anyway.

I couldn't focus on anything and Edward had to get the insulin from the refrigerator and prepare the shit for me. I wasn't sure if I would have to ask him to inject it too, but I was able to do it myself, however I had to do it in front of him. He sort of panicked. I didn't know if it was the needles and he was remembering his mom banging or if he was just worried about me. He finally calmed down and got Doctor Cullen. Edward almost let him into his room, but I stood on shaky legs and walked to the door. Cullen did what he could to check me out, but I had to go to his office the next day. Charlie was freaked-out again and was hovering over me constantly. He spoke with the damn school nurse and she checked in with me three times every day. It was fucking annoying. Nothing had happened since. "I don't know that it's harder here, but I have more distractions, I guess." "It was easier to focus on in Phoenix." I nodded. "Why was that?" I shrugged, in part because I didn't know and also because I didn't want to expend the energy to think about it. "Okay," she said. She'd been letting me get away without talking about every little thing. It was nice. Now she switched topics easily, but sometimes it was a "careful of what you wish for" situation because her next topic could be something I didn't want to talk about even more. "Which do you think is worse? What your mother did to you or what her boyfriend and the other men did to you? " I sighed. I had never confirmed any of her suspicion about other men, but she always trudged right along as if I had. "My mom." "Why is that?" I thought for a second, trying to find words for my wordless feeling. "Because the men I understand. I mean, her boyfriend. I looked like something he wanted, so he took itum, I meantook me. But with Renee, I don't know why she liked hurting me. I don't understand why she couldn't love me. I tried everything. I tried really hard toI mean, I wanted to show her that I could be what she needed." Again, I sighed and let my fingers pick at the imaginary loose string on the bottom of my shirt. "But I never was." We talked a little bit more about how confusing it was to have a mother that hated me and wouldn't explain why. I even shared my theories with her, most of which had to do with me being defective, but there were a few that Dr. Hale seemed more interested in that were about deficiencies in my mother. Near the end of our session, she put her notebook to the side and gave me a small smile. "I need to ask

you something important and I need you to be honest." I was nervous. "Do you feel comfortable with me as your therapist, even with my relationship to Edward?" It was an oddly-placed question and I struggled for a moment to analyze it. Why was she asking me this? "I guess so. I meanwhy?" "My only goal is to help, and I feel that perhaps my relationship with Carlisle puts our dynamic at a disadvantage and I don't want to do a disservice to you, even if I'm doing this pro-bono." I dissected her words. Was she feeling guilty? This question would have made more sense if she'd asked it months and months ago. I felt relatively comfortable with her, I mean, as much as a kid can be comfortable with an adult asking highly personal and sometimes shameful questions. "No, we're cool." I nearly stopped, but she had asked for honesty. "But I think group is kind of stupid. I mean, no kid really wants to share that shit with other kids in their high school" "Those kids are there voluntarily, and no one has to speak unless they want to." I shrugged. I had never witnessed Dr. Hale forcing someone to share anything. "Okay." "You don't find it helpful to have a support network?" "I don't really talk to any of them." "Is there no comfort in knowing that they too are going through rough times of their own and should you needed something, they would be able to support you?" I could see what she was saying. It was nice to know that Angela wasn't perfect because by all outward signs, she was. The only people who knew about her condition were kids from the group. And now that I thought about it, there was a day months ago that Angela, still sitting at the other table with Jessica and Lauren, hadn't eaten anything at lunch. It was Leah who stopped by to whisper something into her ear. I had no idea what she said, but once Leah left, Angela allowed herself to eat half a piece of bread and it was Rosalie who walked with her to her next class; probably to make sure she didn't stop in the bathroom to throw the bread back up. I felt uncomfortable with this new revelation about the group. I hadn't ever thought of them as support, but when I looked at it now, I could see where they all did support each other without bringing the issues to anyone else's awareness. "I guess." Again, Hale smiled at me. "I think you've done such a great job, Bella." I looked away and crossed my arms over my chest. "Whatever," I mumbled, embarrassed. It was mid-March and it was raining as I sat at the Cullen dining-room table and ate the roast I'd prepared. Charlie was working the night shift and couldn't join us. It was okay with me because if he

were here, it would probably have turned into a therapy session. Doctors Hale and Cullen were noticeably absent. She'd told we should start without them and everyone seemed to be in a good mood. I thought it was the firs t time I'd seen Jasper laughever. Even Edward seemed comfortable. He smiled at Emmett's joke and while there seemed to be a noticeable distance between him and Alice lately, tonight they seemed to be jiving well. It was evident when the two adults came into the room, that the good-natured evening was about to change. Dr. Hale seemed like she had steeled herself, and was prepared for anything. Dr. Cullen, on the other hand, was a hot mess. He looked like he'd been crying. As soon as he sat down, Emmett asked "What's wrong, Dad?" Dr. Cullen rubbed his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose. He started and stopped several times. Whatever was wrong, it had to be bad. "Dad?" Finally, Dr. Cullen looked from Emmett to Dr. Hale and then spoke with a very calm and collected voice. "Kate was killed on her way to work this morning. It was a head-on collision." Alice asked, "What?" I looked at Edward, worried that this would send him into a panic attack, but remarkably, he didn't seem all that upset. Even still, I thought the universe needed to give the kid a break. In fact, he seemed calm, even in the midst of Alice's cries and Emmett's vocal disbelief. Dr. Cullen talked about what was going to happen next, assured Alice that it would be okay and told Emmett that she probably felt very little pain with the type of collision it was. The only thing Edward did was lay his fork quietly down on the table and move his hands to his lap. I wanted to reach out and hold one of his hands, but they were clasped tightly together. Plans were being made for the Cullens to miss school for the next four days to attend the funeral. I wondered where Edward was mentally, and was shocked when he finally spoke. "I w-w-won't go." Everyone was quiet for a moment, until Alice said, "But you have to. Kate's," her voice broke, "dead." "I'm n-not going to a ch-church, Aliiiiice." I was suddenly uncomfortable being here. "Don't be horrible, Edward. She was our" "She w-w-wasn't my mm-mmm-mmmom." Alice looked at Edward as if he were evil. Jasper held her hand. "I won't talk to you if you don't go. You have to go." Edward's face remained calm except for the angry crease in his brow. " I w-w-won't t-t-talk to you if you k-k-keep saying that I hhhhhave to g-g-go." Alice's hand curled around her fork and her eyes dulled.

"Great job, Edward," Jasper said with a sneer. "Just say you'll fucking go even if you don't mean it." "Jasper!" Esme said, which I supposed was her way of chastising him for cussing at Edward. "No." Jasper stood up. I glanced back at my boyfriend and found that he looked unimpressed with Jasper's intimidation stance. "Sssshe lllleft. Sssshe ch-ch-chose to leave. She d-d-didn't w-w-wa" "Edward!" Dr. Cullen's voice was sharp as he said Edward's name. It pissed me off that anyone would cut Edward off, but it was really ridiculous that it should come from his adopted father. Dr. Cullen should know how hard it was for Edward not just to speak, but to speak up in situations such as this. "That's fucked up," I said. "Edward never says anything and now that he finally does, you all act like he shouldn't. He has a right to" "Bella, I appreciate your concern. I'm aware that Edward rarely speaks, since he's been under my care for five years; however, he doesn't know why Kate left. While he has a right to speak, he doesn't have the right to speak for Kate. Especially now." Shit. Dr. Cullen had to be really upset, because I'd never heard that tone of voice from him before. "I hhhhheard hhher." I was incredibly surprised that Edward was speaking again. Usually he backed down really quickly. "Ssshe said ssshe d-didn't w-w-w-want us." Dr. Hale finally looked at Edward. She didn't seem concerned that he was not looking at her. "People say things when they're upset that they don't necessarily mean." "And none of that was meant for any of you to hear." "B-b-but I d-did hear and if she d-d-did w-want us, w-w-why d-didn't she ever c-c-call?" I had been so swept up in Edward speaking up, Alice's sobbing and Jasper's posturing, that I didn't noticed how upset Emmett had become. Rosalie was standing next to him, massaging the base of his neck. "She did want us," he said with conviction through the tears that rolled down his cheeks. "She loved me. I know she did. Beforebeforebefore they got here sheshe" "It doesn't matter!" Alice interrupted, her eyes back to normal. "I loved Kate. I think Edward should be respectful and go to her funeral like a decent person would! Carlisle, make him go." "W-w-w-well, I-I-I-I'm nnnnnnot d-d-decent, A-Aliiiice. Y-y-you've kn-know that sssssince" Again, she interrupted him. "If I'm going to Chicago, you're going to Chicago. You have to."

I looked around the room again. Dr. Hale's hand was on Jasper's chest, obviously trying to keep him from exploding. Emmett's head was in his hands while Rosalie stood behind him, alternating running her fingers through his hair and rubbing his shoulders. Alice was glaring at Edward and Dr. Cullen looked overwhelmed, staring intently at his empty plate. "K-K-Kate d-d-didn't wwwwant you, Aliiiice. A-a-any of us." "Edward!" Dr. Cullen said loudly. I fought the urge to yell at him. He was going to chastise Edward for finally speaking his mind? Alice was crying quite a bit now. "She did want me. Maybe it was just you with your stupid phobias and hand-biting she didn't want." "Alice, stop." Dr. Cullen seemed to be begging. "Dad? Make them stop. Tell them she loved all of us. Tell them to stop saying mean things like that." Emmett was quite agitated. Rosalie didn't give up comforting him. "Em, baby, please. It's okay." "I didn't mmmmake mmyself b-bl-bleed all over hhhher k-k-kitchen." "Edward," I whispered. He loved Alice and I didn't want him to say something horrible to her. "Don't be mean. That's not who you are." "Well maybe she wouldn't have left if she'd gotten any sleep, but poor Edward kept everyone up all night screaming." Dr. Hale placed her hand on Alice's shoulders. "Calm down. Remember that Edward is" Jasper cut in "Just let her say what she wants to say. It isn't fair that everyone has to tiptoe around him all the time." "I w-w-won't go." "I hate you, Edward! All you have to do is go to her funeral." "In Ch-Ch-Chicago. In a ch-ch-church!" I didn't know what to do. I felt useless sitting there watching this patchwork family's meltdown. I felt horrible for everyone. Naturally, my loyalty lay with Edward, but Dr. Cullen looked pitiful, Emmett looked worse and Alice's sobs were breaking my unbreakable heart. Without moving much, I laid my hand on Edward's forearm, hoping that he would relax a little. While I meant what I said about him having the right to speak, he and Alice only seemed to be saying very hateful things to each other. Even I knew that wasn't good. The only thing I could do was sit tight, try to ride out the night, and be there for my boyfriend.

Chapter 53: The Boy Under the Table Edward God should not have been so cruel. It seemed as though no matter how marked I felt most of the time, I would be lulled into thinking things were different after a while and then from out of nowhere, God's commitment to make me suffer would crash down around me again. God judgeth the righteous, and God is angry with the wicked every day. I felt powerless to cry over Kate's death at the dinner table with Bella sitting next to me. Everyone looked incredibly distraught, even those who never knew her. I wasn't trying to be callous, but there was no way I would set foot into a church for anyone, much less a person who chose to leave as she had. I had just finished telling Alice that I wouldn't go after she said she hated me. Her words hurt, but I imagined she was hurting herself just as badly. Jasper stood next to her, his mother trying to calm him. I had seen him incredibly upset before, and he seemed as though he was just moments away from snapping. Truth be told, I didn't want him calm. I honestly wanted him to hit me. I would feel justified hitting him back and it would feel really good. "Jasper, sweetie," Esme tried to soothe. He cut her off. All I did was raise an eyebrow and clench my hands together tighter. "But all he has to do is fucking lie to her and she'd be better. Why can't he just lie?" "Edward doesn't have to lie. We all deal with this sort of thing differently. Alice needs to come to terms with what's happened and" I stopped listening to her. I wasn't "dealing" with Kate's death as much as ensuring my not having to go into a church. I didn't want to go and I wouldn't. If her funeral wasn't inside of a church, in Chicago, I would have gone. But Alice didn't know everything and I wasn't going to tell her. It seemed to me that she liked to pretend she knew everything about me, but despite the nightmares she claimed had kept everyone up shortly after she and I had arrived at the Cullen house, she seemed oblivious to my reasons for not going. I wasn't going to sit at the table and have them all look at me like I was hurting Alice on purpose, so I stood up. For just a moment, I thought Jasper was going to lunge across the table at me, but he didn't. It seemed strange that for all of the energy he wasted on intimidation tactics, he could have been taking care of Alice's emotional needs, but that was just Jasper. He would rather force out emotion upon the whole rather than focus on the one who needed him the most. As I left the table, I reflected that I probably shouldn't have said, like all that stuff about Kate not wanting us, but it was true. It didn't matter why. I had my own theories about Kate's inability to love, but they were just theories and in the end, they didn't matter.

She still left. She still never called to speak to Alice, even though she knew Alice hung on her every word. For the living know that they shall die but the dead know not anything, neither have they any more a reward; for the memory of them is forgotten. Also their love, and their hatred, and their envy, is now perished; neither have they any more a portion forever in anything that is done under the sun. I was halfway to my room before Bella's voice stopped me. I hadn't forgotten that she was there; I just didn't care. Right now, I didn't care about much at all. She came to stand in front of me, her hands running down my arms. I shivered at the sensation and then held her hands in mine. "Why aren't you upset? You know, crying like everyone else?" "Sssshe's n-not my mmmom." "But sheYou always talk like you" I had no idea why someone wouldn't be able to get it. "I c-c-cried fffor my mmmm-mmmmom." Bella stood there and simply looked at me before saying, "But she's dead." I sighed, let go of her hands and side-stepped around her. "I g-g-g-got that p-p-part, thank you." I just wanted to be in my room with my things behind a door that locked, but before I could open it, Bella's hand was on my lower back, her forehead resting against my arm. "Don't be mad at me," she whispered. "I'm n-not mmmad at you." We entered my room together and Bella locked the door. I put on quiet music that wouldn't increase the pounding in my head and then sat down on my bed. My eyes focused on her and I watched as she picked up my cell phone and called her father. She explained the situation to him saying that my "ex-adopted-stepmother or whatever" had been killed and asked if she could stay over. Chief Swan apparently said yes. Evidently, being needy had its rewards. Bella came to sit with me and pulled the heel of my hand away from my mouth. I hadn't been aware that I was biting it. She didn't make a huge deal out of it either, and I was thankful. "Alice is pissed." I shrugged. Alice was on her way out of my life anyway. It was only a matter of time. She'd chosen Jasper a while back, and I didn't feel the need to make her decision easier for her. "I-I-I-I'm mmmmad too." Alice said mean things. She said them in front of people who didn't need to know those things about me. She acted like a little girl who didn't get her way instead of my friend who understood how hard it would be for me to go to Chicago and sit through a church service.

Be strong and of a good courage, fear not, nor be afraid of them: for the Lord thy God, he it is that doth go with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. Those words, the ones I had memorized when I was young, may not have pertained to me, but still, they brought me comfort. I had to believe that God would not forsake me. No matter how cruel He could be, no matter how wicked I was, I had to believe that He would still try to love me as he did other sinners. And as for Jasper's comments about having to tiptoe around me, I'd never asked for that. It wasn't my fault they believed they had to act that way. I'd never asked them to handle me delicately. That was their choice and I wouldn't feel bad about it. Apart from pulling my hand from my mouth, Bella didn't touch me. The avoidance made me angry; not at her, but at everyone's assumption that I was different and needed to be dealt with differently. It occurred to me that perhaps with Bella it was more about her inexperience at comforting another person and less about me specifically, but it was easier to lump her in with all the others. We were quiet, but after awhile, she took my hand in hers and laid her head on my shoulder. It was comforting without being suffocating. While everyone downstairs was probably still focused on Kate's death, I seemed to be thinking about other things. Maybe I should have reacted more. Maybe I should have cried. Maybe I would have if Alice hadn't insisted I do something I didn't want to do just because she wanted me to. I was fed up with everyone being so involved in my poor little existence. I didn't have to go to anyone's funeral and I wasn't just being mean when I pointed out that Kate had left us, because she had. While I never really thought she'd spare a backward glance for me, it hurt Alice in unbelievable ways when she left. Alice had sat by the phone for days, sure that Kate would at least call her to tell her that she'd gotten back to Chicago safely. When she didn't, Alice went into one of her "trances." She didn't talk for weeks and after a few days of not eating or responding, Carlisle felt he had no choice but to check her into a mental health facility. She never spoke about it much, but I knew that she'd hated it there. After she was coherent again, she'd stolen a rubber band from one of the nurses and snapped it repeatedly over the flesh of her arm for the eight hours she was supposed to be sleeping. When they did bed checks randomly throughout the night, she pretended to sleep so they wouldn't stop her. Her arm was raw and swollen when the nurses came to take her to breakfast. Alice didn't remember it, but Carlisle wouldn't lie about things like that. She also said after the incident they had pumped her full of drugs. I looked over and found Bella asleep on my shoulder. She was sleeping a lot around me lately. I was happy that she felt comfortable enough to do that. I gently moved us down until we were both lying on our sides, her back to me and I hugged her close and smelled her hair. It was comforting. If she didn't feel so good and everyone wasn't downstairs, I would have gone down to play the piano. But it was just as well. I was remembering things now that I never could before. Since before Christmas, thoughts had come

to me in demanding ways, like the Scripture that flooded my mind. Not all of the memories were bad, but I couldn't stop any of them from coming. It was useless to try. The word flashback seemed like some Hollywood term Alice would use, but I was trapped in memories, so much so that it was difficult for me to concentrate sometimes on much else. Now, with Bella asleep beside me, my mind forced me back into foster care. I thought of how I first met Alice after I'd been taken away from my house. After a few days in the hospital to run what they said were basic tests and to make sure that I was "healthy," the women came back in their black sedan and dropped me off at a small house that was busy and loud. I had no real belongings, just a small picture of my family, and a few things the ladies had gone back to retrieve from my father's house. I'd also been given some donated clothing. While I had always worn my brother's hand-me-downs, it felt strange, unclean, and wrong to be wearing the cast-off clothes of people I didn't know. After the ladies left, the adults who lived in the house seemed to just watch me. They eventually went back to their routine after a while, but there was a little dark-haired girl who kept looking at me. I was huddled in a corner, underneath a small end table in an attempt to feel safe in my new surroundings. Every time I looked up, she was just a little closer than before. Finally, she was only a few feet away and she was lying on her stomach, her hands under her chin. "I'm Alice. At least, that's what they call me. They don't know my real name. Do you miss your family? Lots of kids here miss their families. I don't remember mine, so I don't know if I miss them." She spoke so fast that it was hard to keep up. I remember thinking that I would have to focus harder if I was going to make heads or tails of anything this girl said to me. "They said my mom left me inside a Wal-mart. They found me dancing by the fruit one morning. I guess I wandered around for a few days." She seemed younger than I was and spoke with the casual language of a child, but had eyes that were clearly beyond her physical years. "I bet my mom was pretty and nice." I wasn't in the habit of speaking up, especially with people I didn't know at all, but a quiet and quivering voice was forming words before I could stop it. "B-b-b-b-b-but sssssssshe lllllleft y-y-you." Alice's eyes seemed to harden for just a moment as she regarded me. "You don't know that. Maybe someone stole heror stole me. What do you know? You're just a kid." I felt an overwhelming need to apologize to this little girl, even if she had just accused me of being a kid, but her eyes changed again and she continued on as if the conversation never took place. "Why is your hair so short? I think it would look nicer if you let it grow out." My father had shaved it bald two weeks before the police came. The razor had hurt and dug chunks of skin from my scalp. "Don't worry. Peter and Charlotte are nice. Peter works all day and reads us stories at night. Charlotte

is so pretty and she bakes cookies. She let me bake them too, but I burned myself and" I didn't want to think anymore of sugary foods. I had eaten that chocolate and the sweet gelatin at the hospital, but my father would be angry if I kept defiling God's temple within me. "What? You don't like cookies? She bakes cakes too. She calls us 'darlings' and 'sweethearts' and" Feeling overwhelmed, I started to cry. Alice's eyes widened. "Don't be upset, I'll take care of you. Charlotte said you're my age. I mean, I don't know exactly how old I am, but we could have the same birthday, you know? And we'll go to school together." My tears came quicker at the mention of a new school. The kids might've been cruel at my old school, but at least they already knew how weird I was and I was familiar with their teasing. This school would have new people and rules. The kids would try to talk to me until they found out what I was and then they would be cruel. They had every right to be cruel, because my wickedness shone through in everything I did. "Why are you doing that to your hand? That's disgusting. Don't you taste the blood?" She pulled it out of my mouth and it surprised me that I'd let her. "Anyway, this weekend they're going to take us to the park. There's a big sandlot and I like to dance. Charlotte lets me dance barefoot and helps me clean the mud and sand out of my toenails." Sugary foods and dirty toenails frightened me. "I-I-I-I d-d-d-d-don't wwww-ww-w-w-want to g-g-go to the p-p-p-park!" She looked at me strangely again for just a second. "We can stay here and watch TV." A shrill and scary voice came from the hallway. "Just wait until Uncle Aro finds out, you stupid cow! He'll come and kill you in your sleep!" The owner of the voice passed the entryway and saw me. "What the hell are you looking at?" I lowered my eyes instantly. Alice whispered, "Don't mind Jane. She keeps saying her uncle will come for her, but she's been here longer than I have. She has a brother named Alec. He isn't as bad, but they both smashed a bunch of robin's eggs last yearjust for fun." I had no interest in meeting either one of them, or any of the other occupants of the house. Alice and her fast-talking were enough. As the time passed, it didn't get easier living in foster care. There were too many people in too-little space. It didn't matter where I went in the house; I was always bumping into someone. Alice stayed close all the time and she eventually ended up being the only person I spoke to all day. She was my intermediary with everyone: Peter and Charlotte and the rest of the kids and people at school too, not that I was in that school for long. The general anxiety I usually experienced blossomed into full panic. After two weeks at the new school, it was evident to everyone that I wouldn't be able to go. Alice got along with everyone there. She liked to talk and dance and even when she got in trouble, the teacher would smile at her.

I was assigned a seat near the back. The school was set up so that seventh graders spent most of their time in one classroom, but switched rooms two times and went to new classrooms with new teachers for a couple of classes. Once I was in the seat in my main classroom, they couldn't get me to move. I was glued there and if I wasn't in the seat, I was under the desk or underneath the table directly to my left where microscopes and other scientific instruments were kept. I must have had a pretty bad attack one day because Charlotte came to get me, along with a state psychologist, and they never made me go back. They did, however, put me in a school that was designed for severely "emotionally disturbed" children. That was worse, but at least I wasn't the only kid hiding under my desk. It was an uncomfortable place and I didn't think I actually learned anything. Everyone was loud and there was one girl who was unbelievably filthy. I never went near her for fear of the dirt and grime transferring onto me. Physical education was a requirement, and every day the teacher tried to get me to go into the gym or outside if it was nice, and every day I clung to my desk. Even though they said I could wear my own clothing for the class, I couldn't make myself go. One day, they called Charlotte to pick me up. My hands were so bloody that it bothered some of the other kids. I had chewed them to bits. I couldn't remember why I had bitten them so much, but I remembered how the filthy girl took one look at them and let out a yell that hurt my ears. It wasn't long after that day that Carlisle and Kate came to visit for the first time. They sat on the couch next to the table I was under. I worked really hard not to hyperventilate. I thought they didn't know I was there. I watched Alice dance around the room in an obvious attempt to get them to notice her and nearly bit the heel of my hand down to the bone when I heard the doctor say my name. He spoke with Peter about me going to live with them. He said that they had a room that could be mine. I tried not to think about going anywhere new, even if having a room all to myself again was tempting. After they left, Alice pulled my hand from my mouth and slowly coaxed me out of my hiding place. It wasn't time for dinner yet, and I would have preferred to stay under the table, but she led me to the bathroom where she dumped alcohol on my hands and then bandaged them when they were dry. I hardly even noticed the sting. My mind was too busy processing everything else. When she was finished, she twirled around. I liked watching her. Alice was like nobody I'd ever known. There was a freedom about her that I envied. She couldn't remember what her life was like before they found her dancing by the fruit, so she never seemed to be weighed down by much at all. "She's so pretty and so nice," she said, speaking of Kate. "She's going to be my mom, I just know it." I wanted to tell her that during the whole conversation, the doctor's wife never spoke, so it was difficult to say if she was nice, and even if Alice wanted her for a mother, how could she know the woman wanted her for a daughter? I didn't say anything. "She'll do my hair and we'll sing songs and" There was knocking at my door that pulled me out of my memories. It was soft. Bella didn't stir. For a moment, I was paralyzed, but when I heard the soft voice, my muscles loosened. I moved quickly to the door and opened it after Alice whispered my name. I was upset with her, but I would never ignore her. Her eyes were red and her skin was pale. "I cut

myself," she whispered. I immediately went to scan her body for the wound, when she lifted her shirt just enough to show me the blood seeping from a cut on her stomach. That was one of her favorite places. I didn't know what she had used, but from the look of the cut, it was only sharp enough to rip the skin. Her body shook as I stepped out into the hall and took her hand. I led her to the bathroom, and cleaned her wound. While the skin around it looked sore and painful, I realized I was right, the cut was not deep at all. We didn't speak until I let her shirt fall down over the bandage. "I'm still mad at you," she said quietly. I responded as I put the antiseptic back underneath the sink. "I-I-I-I'm sssstill mmmmad at you t-too." "Come to the funeral, Edward." I shook my head and then left her there to get herself back to her room. I slipped back into bed and fell asleep next to Bella. I probably should have gotten Carlisle to look at Alice last night, but I was pretty sure she was okay. I was not looking forward to leaving my room at all. On the other side of my locked door lay the real world with all of its nonsense about churches and Chicago and Kate being dead. I would have to deal with everyone's expectations. I would have to tell them again that I wouldn't go. Plans would have to be made because Carlisle wouldn't let me stay here alone. Bella awakened and rolled out of bed. I tried to keep her with me, but she was quick and my hand fell to the warm bed instead of on her. I smiled as she stretched, her belly button peeking out over the top of her pants as her shirt rode up. "What?" she asked as she smiled and ran her hands through her hair. "Y-you're p-pretty." Pretty didn't begin to cover it, but I'd noticed that Bella didn't seem to like when I called her beautiful. She never said anything, but she always had a certain expression, a small flicker of pain, when I said the word. "I hate sleeping in jeans," she said as she ignored what I'd said, hooked her thumbs into her pockets and tugged her jeans down a little. "Y-you t-talk in your sssleep." "You've told me that before." She crawled back into bed as I sat up and leaned back. She sat on my thighs, very careful not to creep too close to my morning erection. She had gotten so much better at controlling herself. "What did I say this time?"

"E-E-Edward." She stretched again, this time on top of me. My hands went to her hips as she let out a contented sound. "So it must've been a good dream." She leaned in and the tip of my penis brushed against her belly as she kissed me. Before it became too much, she pulled back and moved off the bed. "I'm going to shower and maybe see if Alice is up and okay. Then we'll go downstairs and get coffee." I loved Bella Swan. The small things meant so much to me. She didn't come right out and say it, but it was evident that she was manipulating the morning to make me completely comfortable. Not only would she leave the room so that I could get my erection under control, but she would check on Alice and accompany me downstairs so that I wouldn't have to face everyone alone. Bella was so good to me. What I found when I got out of the shower confirmed not only how deep my love for her ran, but also let me know just how mutual that feeling was. In the fogged mirror, there were dripping letters in Bella's handwriting: "I love Edward Cullen." I stared and stared at the mirror. I read the words over and over, forgetting about my nakedness; forgetting about everything beyond the fading four words. Bella loved me. My heart seemed too full and my mind found the words difficult to process. Bella loved me. She had written those words to me after her shower. They hadn't been visible until the steam collected on the glass. What she couldn't say, she wrote. Bella loved me. Despite my happiness, panic trickled in as it faded until I almost couldn't make it out. I needed to run the hot water again. I needed a camera so that I could save those words forever. They were for me. I didn't want anyone else to see them, but I couldn't wipe them away until I recorded them in some way. However, there was nothing I could use except my mind. I stared until I had memorized every little detail of the words on the glass. My body grew cold and I finally wrapped a towel around myself. It didn't matter anymore that everyone in the world hated me. It didn't matter because Bella loved me.

Slowly, I took the hand towel from the bar and wiped her words from the mirror, feeling sad that I now only had my memory to recall the drop of water that had wound down from the point of the 'v.' I dried myself off and dressed with what had to be a large, silly smile on my face. When I entered my room, Bella was lying on my bed, flipping through a book of Mary Cassatt paintings while listening to Band of Horses. This song was on the CD I made her for Christmas. She closed the book and sat up, looking very nervous. I knew she had written that on the mirror and she knew I had seen it. For a brief second, I wondered if I should comment, but from her anxious expression, I could tell that even though she had wanted me to see it, acknowledging it would make her panic. She had such a strong fight or flight response, and I didn't want either of those reactions from her. I didn't mention the words or the sentiment behind them, but instead just moved to the bed, took her hands, and pulled her up. I hugged her tightly but carefully and was happy when she didn't pull away and her body actually relaxed into mine. What seemed like a long minute passed before I loosened my hold. "B-B-Band of HHHHorses is kind of c-country." "No way!" I smiled and nodded. "They are not country, Edward." What I did next was a bit shocking, even to me, because I'd never done it before. I wanted to tease her like she sometimes did to me. It was a natural and fun thing for people who cared about each to do. So in a sing-song voice, I said, "Bella liiiiikes country!" The shocking part was that I didn't stutter and the elongation was placed there deliberately. In typical Bella-fashion, she rolled her eyes and bit her lip, she leaned in and kissed me softly. "Coffee?" she asked when she pulled away. I nodded, giving her hands a squeeze. "Thank you fffor ssstaying w-with me, Bella." She gave me a small smile that reminded me again of her written words. She pulled me toward the door and we embarked on the new day together. "Are you set on not going to the funeral?" I thought I'd made myself perfectly clear, so I gave Carlisle a look that let him know my mind hadn't changed. "Esme's guest room has a lock, but the bathroom is connected to Jasper's room." As long as I had known them, I had never been to the Hales' house. While doors with locks were wonderful, I wasn't happy with the thought of being anywhere other than my own room. Carlisle's

assumption that I would stay at Esme's annoyed me. "I-I-I'm ssstaying here." He sighed. "Edward" "In th-three m-m-months I'll b-be eighteen. I-I-I can sssstay a f-f-f-few days by myself." "I'm not comfortable with that." My hands curled. "I'm n-not comfortable w-with ssstaying at Esme's." "Kate loved" I stopped him before he could finish. "N-nnnno, she d-didn't." It was okay that she didn't, but I wouldn't hear Carlisle's lies. Again, he sighed. He knew that she didn't love me. He knew that I didn't love her. Why was it a bad thing that while Kate and I liked each other, we didn't feel the strong emotion of love? "She wasn't capable of" "A-Aliiiice l-l-loved her. Ssssshe c-could've llloved Aliiice." "Kate tried. It wasn't her fault, II pushed her into" "I d-don't c-care." And I didn't. I didn't care why they adopted us. I didn't care why Kate wasn't able to be a proper mother. It didn't matter. She hurt Alice when she left. It didn't matter what was in Kate's past that had left her unable to nurture a daughter. Even with me, while she and I had positive interactions, I always felt as though she would have been happier without children, especially children like us. "Please stay at Esme's." "No," I said, shaking my head for good measure. "We'll be gone for three days." "I-I-I'll be here." Carlisle looked away, rubbed his stubbly chin and took a deep breath. "Fine, but you'll check in with Esme every day. You'll check in with me every night." I nodded my agreement. "And you'll have a session with Dr. Eleazar tomorrow." A Sunday visit from a shrink would cost Carlisle a good deal of money. I wondered why he was always so worried about me being alone. Regardless of whether there were people in the house, before I met Bella I had almost always been alone. Dr. Eleazar was over early and I sat there as he reviewed some notes. I wondered how he was going to lead off. We had exhausted music and for a while we spoke about art and I had to tell him that apart

from the illustrations in my reading books, none had been allowed in the house when I was growing up, not even religious paintings. Today he just jumped right into it; there was no lead-in at all. "Dr. Cullen is concerned about leaving you alone. Everyone's leaving tonight?" I nodded. "I'll be honest with you, Edward; he has a right to feel worried." "W-w-why?" "Your family history is full of mental health issues. Some of the things you deal with are troublesome to say the least but coupled with your mother's suicide and your tendency to go deeply inside yourself when you're upset, his concern is justified. Suicidal tendencies increase" I was shocked at his words and didn't let him finish. "I'm n-n-not going to k-k-k-k-kill mmmmyself." He folded his hands together on his lap. "I don't think you're a risk, but can you see where someone less objective might have that fear? You do have a self-injury issue." I didn't know what he was talking about. Alice had a self-injury issue. I had never cut myself. "N-n-n-n-nnn" "Look at your hands before you answer." I immediately did what he asked and saw the teeth marks and scars. I pulled my hands from my lap and hid them between my thighs and the arms of the chair. "I d-d-don't mmmmmmmmmean t-t-t-to." "Does your sister mean to?" I shook my head with a sigh. I saw the connection he was making, but didn't like it. "So far we've skirted the major issues, but now it's very important for us to start focusing on some of the things I know you don't want to talk about." He must have seen the fear in my eyes because he added, "Don't worry. I'm not talking right now. The fact that you'll be alone for a few days keeps me from focusing on too much today, but be prepared for us to start soon." The rising panic was abated. I did have to force myself to be calm when he leaned toward me though, holding out a pen and a few pieces of paper. Slowly and cautiously, I reached out and took them. "W-w-w-what's this?" "Talking is somewhat uncomfortable for you and the questions that I'm going to ask won't make it any better, so you're going to write for me. You have six pieces of paper there. On three of them, I want you to write one thing that is relatively well-known or inconsequential about your family. I'm talking about your biological family, so one sheet each for your mother, your father, and your brother. On the other three pages, I want you to write something about them, or your feelings about them, that either no one but you knows or that you wish no one knew. Make sense?" I didn't respond because my mind was still stuck on the part where I had to write something about my real family.

"It doesn't have to be anything bad. You could write what color hair your brother had. Take as long as you want and when you're finished, fold each paper twice." He reached for a book next to him and opened it on his lap. "Let me know when you're finished." I watched him for a moment as he began to read. He wasn't even paying attention to me. It took me forever to think of things to write. I didn't know how long it had been but he didn't seem like he cared if it took all day. When I was finished, I cleared my throat. He didn't look up, so I had to use my voice. "D-D-D-Dr. E-E-Ellllleazzzzar?" Finally he looked at me with a smile. "Finished?" I nodded, gripping the folded papers tightly. "Which one is the stack with the well-known information?" I held up my left hand. "Good, put those on the arm of the chair and take bring the others over to the desk." I didn't want to get up, but he was silent as he waited for me to comply. I finally did what he asked and then stood there, waiting further instructions. "There's a shredder." I looked at it sitting there beside the desk. "Shred them." I didn't move. Surely he didn't want me to shred these pieces of papers I had just spent so much time on. I assumed he wanted to read them. "Edward?" He didn't even turn around to look at me. I felt confused and disoriented, and a little frightened because none of the rules had been explained and I didn't want him to be upset with me. For some reason, the sound of his book closing propelled me into motion. I bent down carefully and sent the papers through the shredder. "Now pull the basket out and look at the contents." I did what he asked. "The pieces are so small no one would be able to put them together without an amazing amount of time and patience on their hands, yes?" I nodded, but then remembered he couldn't see me. "Y-yes." "You can return to your seat now." Before I sat down, he asked me to hand him the other folded papers. With shaking hands, I complied. "We're going to read and discuss these. Afterward, you'll shred these as well." I sat down and watched him unfold, and then read each of them. Afterward, he placed them on his knees, pulled his glasses off, setting them on the arm of his chair.

"You wrote that your mother had a beautiful voice." He paused. "How many times have you watched the video since last Friday?" I shook my head. I hadn't counted. "Take a guess." "M-m-mmmmaybe t-t-twenty." "That's an improvement. You wrote that your father loved God. We've discussed that in length, so we'll go on to what you wrote about your brother." I held my breath and trained my eyes on the papers on his knees. "You wrote that Joseph was sick. What was wrong with him?" I shook my head. I never knew what was wrong with him. My father never allowed either of us to go to the doctor. Knowing what I knew now, there was probably information out there. Dr. Eleazar could have the information in that folder for all I knew, but I wouldn't ask. "How did you know he was sick?" "Hhhhhhhhe th-threw up all th-the t-time a-a-a-and c-couldn't breathe. Hhhhhis ssssssskin t-t-turned" His skin shifted between pale white and gray. "It w-w-wasit d-d-didn't lllllook r-r-right." "And this is something people knew?" People at school had to have suspected that he was ill. My father's congregation knew something was wrong with him, but no one ever asked questions. It wasn't hard to see that he was unhealthy. He hadn't started out that way, but by the time I was eight or nine, he would have to be excused during the sermon to use the restroom to vomit. My father allowed him to sit at the back. Sometimes I could sit with him. I shrugged my answer to the doctor because I knew that I wouldn't be able to adequately describe what happened or what people possibly knew. There wasn't much more discussion before Dr. Eleazar let me shred those papers and leave. The three days everyone was away were easy to get through. Their absence didn't affect me much. I had difficulty sleeping with or without anyone else in the house. The first two nights, Bella came over and we ate dinner together. After I took her home, we were up most of the night chatting on the computer. The last night before they were set to return, Bella and I sat at the piano. She'd asked me to play and as always, I was more than happy to do it for her. Her hand was at the base of my neck, her fingers pulling at the hair. I played, but her mouth, attached to my ear was quite distracting. "Tell me about chords or some shit. That's crazy-sexy." I consciously steadied my breathing. I had been doing so much better. Since telling Dr. Eleazar all

those months ago that I wanted to have sex with Bella, I'd had no problems touching her and had grown more comfortable with some of her touches. I had masturbated a few times without any kind of mental meltdown, although it still left me feeling unclean. Bella seemed like she was on-board with my slow desensitization process. I knew she'd guessed at my past, but I'd never confirmed it. Her hand resting on my thigh was not only distracting, but also causing my body to feel incredibly anxious. I wasn't panicking though. The piano helped me avoid that. I wanted her hand there. It wasnice. She shifted beside me, bringing her hand closer to my groin as her leg moved to straddle the bench. I had no idea how she had managed to do that without breaking contact, but she did. My hands faltered as my mind went blank. She'd asked me to tell her something, but I couldn't remember. Her mouth sucked on my earlobe for a moment longer before dipping down to lick at the hollow behind my ear. "I-I-I c-c-c-can't r-remember wwwwwhat I wwwwas p-p-playing." Bella laughed. It was low and sexy. "I wonder why," she mumbled against my skin. Her hand crept closer and my breathing increased. My knee bounced and my fingers curled. With fisted hands, I couldn't play the piano any longer, so some of the calm I derived from it was gone. "Relax." Her hand stilled, but her mouth did not. I tried to do just that. Bella deserved a boyfriend who could just relax and enjoy her touch, but my mind sent out chemicals that told my body to tense up as if something horrible was about to happen. "B-B-B-B-Bella, I" "What?" I could hear the smile in her voice. "B-B-B-Bella," I tried again. Her body pressed against mine and her leg was draped over my knee. The hand that had been on my thigh moved to my hand and she started massaging it until it opened up. She pressed a finger to the keys. "Play." She did the same with my other hand. "Play my song, Edward. Please?" It took a minute, but my fingers managed to play the song. The now-finished and familiar melody filled the air. She put her hand back on my thigh and I willed myself to react the way a normal boy would. Slowly her hand moved until she was grasping my erection. I felt thankful that it was covered by my

pants, but I still felt close to passing out. Her hand was only holding me, but when her tongue flicked out against my ear and she inhaled, it was too much. I couldn't help it. My hands curled again and my body went rigid. I practically pushed away from her. "Ssssssssorry," I said quickly. When I could finally look at her, she didn't look upset. She just licked her lips and smiled, moving to sit properly on the bench. "Will you finish the song? Later that evening, after Bella explained that her father was working the late shift, we lay in my bed together. We were talking about the English assignment for Romeo & Juliet, when out of the blue, she said, "I think I should see you naked." I nearly choked. "W-w-w-w" "Relax." We both sat up. "B-b-b-b-b" "You've seen me naked." "A-a-a-a-a-ah" "And I already think about you being naked, so it's pretty much the next logical step." "B-b-but" She moved until she was me in the my eyes. "But what?" she asked quietly. "B-but w-w-what if y-y-you d-d-don't" I couldn't bring myself to voice it, but I knew she would make me. "What if I don't what?" Her hand moved to cup my cheek, keeping me from looking away. "If y-you d-d-don't llllllliiiiike w-w-w-w-what you see?" No matter how hard she tried, there was no way she could keep me from looking away now. I couldn't bear to hold that connection. "How would that even be possible?" Her voice was light, but after a moment, she turned serious. "Edward, look at me." I shook my head as I scooted away from her, my legs coming up to my chest as if they would protect me. Bella moved with me and I could feel that this was going to become too much soon. Tears stung at my eyes, so I shut them and rested my forehead on my knees. "Edward, I like everything you are and there's nothing you could show meor tell me that would change that. I know you said that you have more" I held my breath and my heart raced. "scars, but they won't" Of course she would say that it didn't matter, but that was only because she hadn't seen the rest of my

body and she didn't know. "I-I-I sssssshould t-t-take you hhhhhome." I moved to get off the bed, but she stopped me. "I didn't mean right now, you know." "Your d-d-d, ffffather w-will" "He's at work. We've covered this." My teeth ground together. For all my wanting to have sex with her, I'd failed to adequately plan that I'd have to be naked, or something close to it, for it to happen. "The guy who fucked me when I was eleven just grabbed me and did it." My movement ceased. I didn't know why she'd chosen this moment to start talking about it, but it froze everything, even my panic. "He covered my mouth with his hand. He tasted like cigarettes and grease. He told me to be quiet because my mom would be mad at me, and later he would say that if I didn't do what he wanted, he would tell my mom what I" I turned to look at her when she didn't finish. She was staring at the corner by my door. I wanted to reach out to her, to hold her, to comfort her, but I feared that she wouldn't react well to it. "Bella," I whispered. She shook her head and moved her eyes to mine. She smiled, but it was quick to fade. To my surprise, she took my hand. "Sometimes I can hear his voice. It's like he's right next to me. No, more like inside my head, and Iit's like I'mback there." She nibbled on her lip and asked, "Is it like that for you?" My breath caught and the muscles in my hands tightened. I heard her make a noise and I recognized that my hand was crushing hers, but I couldn't release it. I was thankful when she was able to pull her hand out of mine, but I was upset about her question. She moved to the door when I didn't reply. "You can take me home now." Since I'd gotten sick around Christmas, I hadn't slept well and was plagued with dreams, waking up disoriented and in pain. I hated taking medication, but the throbbing in my head forced me to as soon as I was able to sit up. Carlisle would be back in the morning. The night before his return was no exception to the string of sleep-deprived nights I'd grown accustomed to. I dreamt of Chicago again; mostly about the basement, but what I also remembered dreaming about was the moment my mother's finger tightened on the trigger. I looked at her eyes. When she was on the ground, she became Kate, but it was no less terrifying than it had been that day in my room.

However it wasn't Kate or the basement that caused me to wake up sweaty and screaming. My body was very tight. I tried so hard to get my jaw to loosen and my hands to unclench around the sheets. My stomach hurt. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them. As soon as my body allowed for any movement, I bit down on my hand and felt better. I hated that it made me feel better and I hated that Carlisle and Bella would both see the marks in the morning. Carlisle would worry and call Dr. Eleazar and Bella would tell me to stop hurting myself, as if I was in control of it. I watched the video of my mother until dawn and drank coffee until my family came home and it was time to pick up Bella for school. Everything happened as I predicted. Bella made a comment about my hands, and Dr. Eleazar was waiting for me when I got home, two days earlier than expected, and I had no choice but to talk to him. He asked me how I was doing and even though I didn't mean to reveal anything, I heard myself say, "Mmmmy b-brain isn't w-w-working rrrright." "How so?" I knew I wasn't looking at Dr. Eleazar as much as I used to look at Esme, but I wished that his voice conveyed something. I could never guess what he was thinking. He was fairly detached, but I didn't want to look at him. "I c-c-c-can't c-c-control mmmy" I paused long enough to sigh, "I c-c-can't ssstop my fffffather's w-words or SSSScripture ffffrom p-p-playing in my hhhhead." "And it's impacting your life?" It should have been obvious. "Yes." "We need to start going deeper then. May we talk about your hands?" I looked down, but didn't answer. "What happened?" "I hhhhad a d-d-dream." "Does that happen a lot? The dreams, I mean?" "M-m-more and mmmmore now." "About?" "Th-th-the b-b-b-b-basement," I blurted before I could stop myself. "Why is the basement important? What's down there?"

I shook my head quickly. "N-n-n-not jjjjjust the b-b-b-b-b-b" I stopped, the block had been formed and I was thankful for it. "I-I-I've b-b-been r-r-r-remembering th-things." "What things?" "Liiiiiiike f-f-ffffoster c-care a-and th-the d-d-day th-they t-t-took mmmme ffffffffffrom m-m-my d-d-d-d, house." This time I did look up and found him nodding, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "It's desperately important you remember these things. Will you tell me about some of your memories?" I gulped and quickly looked away. "What about something simple, like meeting Dr. Cullen? You can write it down if you wish. We'll shred it when we're finished." I felt like I could barely breathe, but I nodded in agreement and took the pad of paper and pen he offered to me. As I wrote, I remembered what it was like. I wondered if this was what Bella was talking about. It wasn't like I was back in Chicago, but I could see it perfectly in my head. I wrote what I saw and then my mind shifted to when I went home with Carlisle and Kate. I'd held Alice's hand the entire car ride over there. The house was big and nice and I was thankful it was clean. Alice walked through the door with no problem and tried to tug me through. Carlisle and Kate were waiting in the foyer. They both seemed cautiously curious. "He takes his shoes off outside," Alice supplied helpfully. Once my shoes were off, I wasn't any more comfortable, but I had to go in. I worried about getting in trouble. It was obvious that they wanted me inside the house. We all stayed together as they showed us around. They told us about Emmett as we went. He was at some kind of sporting practice. At some point, Alice stopped holding my hand and held Kate's. She twirled when the space allowed for it, finally knocking over a potted plant with her foot. As much as I wanted to protect her, I couldn't move. I just chewed on my hand while I watched. Carlisle righted it and Kate scooped up the spilled dirt with her bare hands. He came toward me and I moved back and tripped over my own feet. When I looked up, Kate took my hand. At first I thought I would be punished, but she spoke to me softly. "We don't hit hereever." I nodded, but couldn't stop the tears. She had made my hands dirty. Alice took led me back to the bathroom we had just passed. I washed. The tour resumed. When we got to the library, I nearly passed out at the sight of so many books. Not thinking and having lost myself a little, I ran my hand over the spines. Carlisle looked at me and I quickly pulled my hand back and tried to apologize. It got stuck in my mouth. "Do you like books?" I didn't know how to respond. I liked reading in school, but other than school books, the only one I'd

ever read was the Bible. I saw an old Bible on the shelf and I pointed to it. Carlisle smiled. "My father was very religious. He gave me that the day I was born and his father gave it to him. It's been in the family for a very long time." I wondered if he knew about my father and if that was why he told me. I shook as he pulled it from the shelf and handed it to me. "Do you find comfort in religion?" I nodded and then remembered that it was necessary to speak and to speak properly to avoid punishment. "Y-y-y-yes, sssir." I flinched and my fingers tightened around the Bible. "You'll be allowed to practice whatever religion you choose here." I was confused because there was only one religion, but at the time I did not question his words. This was his house and he would set the rules and I wouldn't question the things he said. I looked over at Alice. She was looking at big books of pictures with Kate. The pictures were of ballerinas, and they must have inspired Alice because she started twirling again, never dropping Kate's hand. "I wish you wouldn't call me 'sir.'" My attention was immediate drawn back to Carlisle. "Would you please call me Carlisle?" Anxiety washed over me, but I nodded. I'd never called an adult by their first name before. "Y-y-yes, sssssir" I gasped. Not only had I stuttered badly, I had called him 'sir.' "I-I-I-I-I mmmmmmmmeany-y-yesssssssssir." I cringed and dropped the old Bible. I had done it again. He'd just politely told me a new rule and I'd disobeyed a second time. I needed to fix it. "Y-y-y-y-y-yessssssssssss" "Sir," my mind supplied and I bit my hand out of frustration and fear. "Edward," he said calmly, "I would prefer not to be called 'sir,' however if it's comfortable for you, that is what you may call me." I felt relieved. "Yes, sir," I said quickly. I would need to work on calling him by his first name if that was what he wanted, and I didn't want to test his patience much more. I looked down and realized I had written five and a half pages when my hand stilled. I looked at Dr. Eleazar and he gave me a small smile. "Would you like me to read it?" I looked down at the pages again, and then tore them from the pad and folded them twice.

I handed them over and hoped it was what he wanted. While he read, I thought about Kate. She had been kind to me and to Alice. Looking back, it was clear that it was easier for her to be around someone less needy like Emmett, although he called her "mom." She never said she didn't like it, but I could tell it made her uncomfortable. Then again, Emmett never bit his hands or cut his stomach. He didn't wake up with nightmares and he didn't stare at walls for hours and hours at a time. Emmett always took his medicine. Ms. Rice was patient as always. She let me pick what I would read today, so I chose Romeo & Juliet for several reasons. First, we were reading it in English, and second, I liked Shakespeare more than Seuss. The rhythm was entirely different, but it seemed to be easier for me to say. Perhaps it was the iambic pentameter. "These vvvviolent delights have vvvviolent ends, and in their t-triumph die, like fire and powder, w-which as they kiss consume." "Very good, Edward. That was the best I've heard from you in a while. Your d's, f's, and hard k sounds were perfect. How do you feel about it?" I took a deep breath and shrugged. I didn't want to talk about it because if I thought about it too much, I would mess up and stutter again. The truth was that I was proud that she was proud of me. It was nice to feel like I'd done something right. Since coming to live with Carlisle, I'd put a lot of effort into correcting my speech. He'd tried to get me into speech therapy in Chicago, but it was too soon. I couldn't focus. I felt pressured to fix my stutter. I thought he wanted the same thing my father wanted, even if the method wasn't the same. Carlisle didn't want me to read the Bible every night. He didn't punish me when I messed up. He hired people to help me speak, but I didn't want to be in a room with them. I hid until they left. Carlisle and another doctor put me on medication, and that was helpful. I didn't hide, but none of the speech therapy helped. They tried a lot of things. There were devices that filled my ears with white noise or let me hear my voice a second after I said something. Everyone was really hopeful when they showed them to me, but I didn't like the things that went into my ears. They felt strange, no matter which style they tried and I was uncomfortable with anyone trying to adjust them. After awhile, Carlisle backed off. He didn't bring speech therapy back up until we moved to Forks. He said that he wanted me to go to the same school as Alice and Emmett because most of my behavioral issues were controlled, or at least not as prevalent anymore, and there was no reason why I shouldn't. I agreed to speech therapy only if they didn't stick things in my ears. I wanted to go to the regular school. My experience with the one for kids with "issues," let me know that it wasn't for me. I wanted to learn new things and I couldn't do that in a room full of emotionally-needy kids. Carlisle spoke with the school and got me out of gym class and made sure I would have physical space. He told me that the school expected me to behave in a certain way, so I tried really hard and practiced at home. I stopped hiding under tables and I forced myself to sit still at the dinner table. I still didn't sit next to Emmett or Carlisle. Alice sat on my left at the end of the table, and to my right was Kate.

Kate would watch me eat, like my mom used to do. There were times when Emmett would ask me something or Carlisle would speak and I would react instinctively. I could see her out of the corner of my eye and she would shake her head slowly, letting me know that my reaction wasn't appropriate. Sometimes she would clink her fork on the side of the plate or tap her fingernails against her glass to help to distract me. I finished out the session with Ms. Rice. My reading wasn't perfect, but it was a little better than it normally was. After finishing with Ms. Rice, I found Bella waiting for me outside. She was sitting on the low wall in between Alice and Angela, and she was laughing. Her smile was amazing and I was so grateful to be able to see it. Her smile shifted when she saw me watching her. This smile was only for me. She said goodbye to Angela. Alice stood when she did and they both walked over to me. Alice said nothing to me and I returned her silence before she turned to Bella. "See you later." She skipped over to Jasper, who was next to Rosalie. They must've been waiting on Emmett to extract himself from his multitude of admirers. I was thankful to be driving myself every day. I did not miss witnessing the gratuitous public displays of affection between my siblings and the Hales. It was a beautiful day out and I was so happy to be able to share it with Bella. Before she was in my life, I would have wanted to go home as soon as possible and close myself off inside of my room until I was forced to sit through dinner. Now I wanted to spend the gorgeous day with my beautiful girlfriend. It had to be nearly fifty degrees, which was still cool, but not bitterly cold. We drove to that little playground we'd gone to before and she chased me around until she was out of breath. She was so much healthier now than she had been only a few months ago. Not only was she eating more, but she was physically stronger. She never spoke about it, but I suspected that her father's purchase of exercise equipment was a huge benefit to her. I let her catch me because in reality, as much fun as I was having running with her, it would never be as much fun as I had just simply holding her. There were kids all around and it was only their presence that kept our contact chaste. It was nearly five-thirty when we decided to go back to her house. I was surprised, but I was finding her house more comfortable than mine. Chief Swan never bothered us as long as we weren't behind a closed door. When we arrived, we found him wearing a grilling apron, swearing at the stove. "What are you doing to that saucepan, Charlie?" He looked up, almost guiltily, then took a gulp from his beer can and shook his head. "I was trying to cook this fish, but"

"It's not the right pan." "But" She pulled her hand from mine and moved to the cabinet beside the stove, bent down, and grabbed what was apparently the correct pan. It looked almost identical to the one her father was using. "Use this." "But" "The fish won't stick. And don't use metal utensils either." "But can't you" "And if you have time, I'd like a salad." Chief Swan looked helpless as he held the new pan in one hand and scratched his head with the other. Bella turned around and I saw her smirk as she rolled her eyes. "Bella, I can'tI mean, this ismaybe I should've just used the grill." "Don't freak out," she said over her shoulder. "Let me put my crap away and I'll come save you, okay?" "Yes, please." She took my hand and started pulling me towards the stairs. Before I could turn, Chief Swan said, "Hello, Edward." "Hhhhhello, ssssir." Once I was up in her room, I thought we would just drop our bags and jackets on her bed and go back downstairs, but Bella had other ideas. With her door wide open, she positioned us so that I fell back onto the bed and she came down on top of me. "Bella," I whispered as she kissed my neck. "I've waited all day for this," she mumbled, "don't tell me to stop. You're so fucking sexy, Edward." Her father could walk in at any moment and the thought worried me. But everything worried me. Bella didn't worry about being caught. I didn't want to worry either, so I shut off the part of my brain that supplied all of the 'what ifs' and the consequences and gripped her hips. I allowed myself to simply enjoy the feeling of Bella.

Chapter 54: Sinful Edward

After extracting myself from Bella and exiting to the bathroom to collect my thoughts and calm my body, I rejoined her on the stairs. Her father was making dinner and from the smell of it, failing miserably. It was admirable that he was trying to cook a nice meal for his daughter, but it was clear that he was about as good a cook as I was. We had almost made it to the kitchen when Bella stopped. Her father was talking and by the tone of his voice, it was clear that he was very angry. "No, she's not home and you're very, very lucky that she" As Chief Swan paused, Bella took a step back. She was now pressed against me. "I'll put you in prison, Renee. I'll put your boyfriend in prison too and he can feel what it's like to be raped." His voice seethed with anger Bella's shoulders shook and I couldn't keep the tension from my body any more than I could control my rapid breathing. But I needed to help Bella. I wrapped my arms around her waist and willed her to relax. She couldn't. Instead, she turned around in my hold, moved her hands to my chest, and pushed me. She wanted to leave. "If you try contacting her again, Renee, I won't let Bella call the shots. I'll pursue you and your pedophile boyfriend and if the law won't work, my shotgun will." I let myself move backward. When we were at the base of the stairs, she gently pushed me until I was sitting, and then she followed, but instead of sitting next to me, she was sitting on top of me, her knees on either side of my hips. Bella's lips on my neck confused me. Her father was only steps away and she was starting this type of contact, not to mention that he was on the phone with her mother! He was threatening her mother and she was sucking on my neck! Her fingers dug into my shoulders as she rocked on top of me. "B-Bella?" My hands encircled her wrists and I pushed her away. She sighed and moved off of me, then leaned against me, her head on my shoulder. "He wants to put her in jail." "Sssshe ssshould be in jail." "It's so fucking stupid," she whispered. I didn't understand because it seemed logical that Chief Swan would want to do his duty, not only as a father, but as a man of the law, and obtain justice for her. Her mother deserved to be in jail, as did the man who hurt her so badly. They both took something from her that they shouldn't have taken. They were thieves of hope and safety and comfort. They were the reason that Bella had issues sleeping and caring about whether she lived or died. I didn't want her to be upset, but my confusion at her response inspired me to say the things that were on my mind; the things I wouldn't normally say. "I hhhhhope ssshe g-goes to jail. I m-mean t-to p-prison," I added, knowing that there was an important distinction between the two. I shifted, turning my whole body toward her. She was shivering, and not for the first time, I wished I could wrap her up in a warm blanket. I tried to touch her. I just wanted to feel that little scar under my thumb, but she evaded my touch, just as she evaded my eyes. "Bunny? I thought you were going to help," her father called. His voice was completely different. He'd

probably taken a moment to collect himself after talking to Bella's mother. I was still surprised at the nickname; I wasn't used to hearing it. She didn't tell me what it meant, but she must not have minded it. She never raged when he said it. Immediately Bella stood up and I reached out for her, hoping that we could be close again, but the physical and emotional distance grew. She walked into the kitchen, not waiting for me to follow. When I got there, I found her getting rid of two of the fillets her father had been cooking. She didn't look at him as she knocked around the kitchen. As usual, she was efficient, but it was easy to see that something was wrong. Bella had come a long way in a few short months with regard to how she interacted with her father and people in general. She'd begun to spend more time with Alice and Angela when it didn't interfere with her time with me, and even began to engage with Mrs. Clearwater in a more polite way. But right now, she was ignoring Chief Swan and me, and she was angrily cooking as if she was doing it against her will. Her father looked at me, the question present in his eyes. There was nothing for me to say. She was obviously upset about the phone call. I didn't understand why she'd be angry about her father's willingness to protect her, but that was just Bella and I had to accept it. She was silent for the rest of the evening. Her father tried to open up conversation during dinner, but she wouldn't take the bait and I wasn't helping much. I wished that I could have thought of something else, but his conversation with Renee ate away at my mind until all I could focus on was that her mother had been so cruel to her, and despite knowing what that man had done to her daughter, she still invited him back into her house. Bella's mother probably didn't even know how close Bella had been to killing herself, or that man. The thought of Bella pointing a gun at herself scared me. I could feel it forming in my brain and on my heart. Thinking about her trying to kill him didn't make me feel any better. There could have been a struggle. He could have killed her. If she managed to kill him, she would have been taken to prison, despite the reason why she had done it. No one would have cared. The thought of possibly never meeting her weighed heavy on me. I accepted her silence, just as I accepted the distance between us. My dreams hadn't stopped and the accompanying headaches in the morning were becoming worse. Even though I had made up my mind to discuss them with Dr. Eleazar, it still caught me off-guard when he brought them up first. He'd asked me to write down what some of my dreams were about in only a few words, so I had written "God, the belt, dirt, and the basement." After he read what I'd written, I thought he would talk to me about it, but he shocked me again by changing topics. "What about Kate? Do you dream about her?" Sometimes I did, but they weren't disturbing dreams, so they were hardly worth mentioning. Usually we just repotted plants together. "No."

"How do you feel about Kate? Are you angry with her?" I could understand his preoccupation with Kate. She'd just died and I knew Carlisle probably asked Dr. Eleazar to make sure I was handling her death okay. No one seemed to be able to understand that I didn't need to cry for her to mourn her death. I was sad that she was gone, but I wasn't devastated. It wasn't as if her not being on the earth affected me much. She was gone long before she died anyway. But I thought about the question. It was possible that I was angry with her, but if I was, it wasn't because I felt she'd done anything to me personally. "Sssshe hhhurt Aliiiice." "How did she hurt Alice?" It should have been pretty obvious. "A-Alice needed a mmmmmom a-and K-Kate jjjust left." Dr. Eleazar pinched his bottom lip and then scratched his right ring finger as he thought. "Do you think she should have stuck around out of obligation?" "Yes." My answer was immediate, but wasn't entirely accurate. I did think that Kate owed it to Alice to at least remain present in her life somehow, rather than just dumping her completely. "I've spoken at length with Dr. Cullen, so I have a deeper understanding of some of the issues at play here. Are you at all aware of Kate's personal history?" I didn't know what he meant. What should I have known beyond the fact that she and her husband chose to adopt children she later wouldn't want? "W-what history?" He folded his hands together and looked to the ceiling for a moment. "Do you think it's normal behavior for a woman to completely cut ties with people who were essentially her family?" Again, I felt a little lost, so I shrugged. "Was Kate overly nurturing when you knew her, or did she always seem a bit distant?" I thought about it; not only how to answer the question, but also to figure out where he was trying to steer me. While Kate was present, she wasn't overly nurturing. There were moments when she came out of her shell, so to speak, but mostly she was distant. "N-not o-o-overly," was my short answer. "Have you ever wondered what forces shaped her into the person you knew? What formed her into the distant woman who had a hard time connecting with other people?" In truth, I had never really given much thought to why she left. I'd always just assumed that it was because of us, the messed up kids her husband chose. But maybemaybe it had something to do with her. Dr. Eleazar seemed to know, so I looked at him expantantly. "Dr. Cullen likes to fix things, doesn't he? He likes to feel useful." His words were true, but I didn't respond. "Perhaps Kate wasn't able to be fixed."

My mind moved quickly, analyzing every last memory I had of Kate, testing the rapidly solidifying hypothesis. He was trying to tell me something and I felt the pieces connect like a puzzle in my head. Kate waswounded. Her ability to love wasn't intact. Something had happened to cause her to be distant. It wasn't me or Alice or Emmett she failed to connect with. It was everyone. In the end, even her connection to Carlisle was severed. "Help me understand why the basement is important, Edward. What was in the basement?" My breath caught and once again, the rug was pulled out from under me. The shift in topic was abrupt and intentional, and I felt scared of the chaos it released in my mind. It took me a second to settle, and then I was struck by how annoying therapists could be. He knew what was in the basement. He had to know. Esme would've told him or he would have read the file from Chicago. Why did therapists always want me to say all the things they already knew? I remembered that I wrote "the basement" on that little sheet of paper that now rested on the arm of his chair. Essentially, I had been the one to bring it up. "Mmmmm-mmmmmy b-b-b-b-b-br-br-br" I stopped and took a deep breath, willing away the block, but when I opened my mouth again, I still couldn't say it, so I let that word go. "J-J-J-JJJJJoseph." I couldn't look at Dr. Eleazar, so I focused on my hands twisting together nervously in my lap. I wasn't going to have a panic attack because I knew I needed to talk about this. If I didn't, I would be haunted by the dreams forever. Anyway, Dr. Eleazar wouldn't stop hammering away until I answered. "What did your father say about your brother being in the basement?" My father's voice rang clear inside my head. "G-G-G-G-God t-t-took the w-w-w-wrong ssssssson." "What did he want you to do down there?" My head began to ache, so I closed my eyes against the brightness of the room. "A-a-a-a-a-an-n-n-nnn" "Would it be better to write it down?" The thought of these words being given physical space on paper, even if we shredded them afterward, pushed them from my mouth. "Anoint him." I risked a glance at the doctor. His face was impassive. I looked at my hands, unable to stop the way the fingers on my left hand dug into the flesh of my right. "As Jesus was anointed?" I could only nod. My fingers tightened and I felt the pull of my skin. The short, clipped nails pushed into the soft tissue. "How long was he planning to?" "F-f-fffffforty days." "Why forty days?"

I was annoyed. It should have been clear to Dr. Eleazar. I realized that he was probably not as well-versed in Biblical studies as I was, but the answer seemed clear. "J-J-J-Jesus ap-p-p-peared ffffor ffffforty d-d-days after he d-d-d" When I didn't finish the word, Dr. Eleazar spoke again. I was getting tired. He asked more questions than Esme and unlike her, he seemed to be able to acquire an answer from me against my own will. "What did that mean for Joseph? Why did your father" I shrugged. How was I supposed to know the mind of my father? I assumed that he wished to give God time to correct the mistake. "The police showed up after nineteen days. Where were you when the police came?" I saw the blue and red lights from the high windows. I moved from the center of the room and hid in the corner, wrapping my arms around my drawn-up legs. It was cold and damp and I couldn't tear my eyes off of where I had just been. I didn't know what was going to happen, but I was frightened and in some pain. My father would be upset that people had come over. "Th-the b-b-basement." When they came down the stairs, loud and fast, I was as still as I could be. But they noticed me and moved to come near, and I frantically tried to become part of the wall. I remember wishing that it would just open up and swallow me. There were a bunch of men and one squatted down to talk to me. I just bit my hand. Shortly after, they sent a woman in the same blue uniform. She had dark hair that was pulled up on the top of her head. She inched closer to me very slowly. The gun on her hip was large in comparison to her small frame. She said words that I didn't understand at the time, and I couldn't remember now. As I currently analyzed the situation, they probably thought I was mute, or deaf, or both. I remembered not being able to focus on anything. They were moving Joseph and trying to touch me. There were noises upstairs, creaking floorboards and my father's loud voice. He yelled and unknown voices yelled back. I wanted to yell at them to leave my house. Their shoes were dirty and they were ruining Joseph and my father was going to be very, very angry. Blood dripped down from my hands onto my shirt. I could feel the warmth and was immediately seized with fear. My father would be upset about my soiled shirt. "You were anointing him?" I blinked, bringing my attention back to Dr. Eleazar. I nodded. "T-tw-twice a d-day." "Your father told you that it was supposed to be you?" Again I nodded. He said I was so wicked, God didn't want me, so He took Joseph instead. "Sssssince JJ-JJJJ-JJJJoseph d-died ffffor mmmy sins, it w-was mmmy d-d-duty to p-p-prepare hhhim for J-J-JJJJesus." That was what he said, but I knew in my heart that he was waiting for God to take me and give Joseph back his life.

"Can we talk about Joseph when he was alive?" I shook my head. "Why not?" "M-m-mmmy hhhhead hhhurts. I-I'm t-t-tired." "Have you told anyone about Joseph?" I wondered if he'd heard me say that I was tired and my head hurt, or if he just didn't care. I shook my head to answer his question, but it only made my headache worse, and I was hoping that he would let me go lie down. "Do you wish someone else knew what happened?" "Y-y-you kn-know." He nodded shortly when I looked up. "I've read the police report, but it was written nineteen or twenty days after it happened." "N-night." "Hmmm?" It was dark around me and I didn't want to think about what he wanted me to think about, but he was asking me a question. It was respectful and right to answer when someone asked a direct question. "I-i-it hhhhappened at n-night." "What happened?" Carlisle had a large quartz crystal on his bookshelf. I'd always liked it, so I looked at it now. "Mmmm-mm-my d-d-d, father." "What? Your father?" I didn't like his voice. It was too soft for what he was trying to ask about. He used that voice to make me feel comfortable. Just like Esme. It was all a trick to get me to feel comfortable and it never worked. "I w-w-was t-t-taking the p-punishment I d-d-d-deserved, but I w-w-w-was wwww-w-weak and J-J-J-J-J-J-" I gasped for breath, feeling as though my breathing was just out of my control. "Joseph?" I nodded and pulled my legs up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. My fingers dug into my forearms. "Hhhhhe t-t-t-took the r-r-r-rest, b-b-but hhhhhe w-wasn't w-w-well and mmmy ffffather w-was very d-d-determined to p-p-p-purify." I did not let my mind wander back to that night. I very carefully kept my mind focused on the crystal. "Your father beat him. He was already sick."

I moved my hands to the arms of the chair and nodded. "What was the result? My breath hitched as my chest tightened. I clutched the chair. "J-J-J-J-J-Jo-Jo-Jossssssseph ss-ssss-sst-st-stopped b-b-breathing." I felt sick. My head throbbed and my fingers ached. "G-G-G-God t-t-took the w-wwwwwrong ssssson. That p-p-punishment b-b-b-belonged t-t-to mmmme." "Please focus on your breathing. Slow down. I know it's difficult, but you must remember that you are safe inside your home. There is no one here who will let harm come to you." I tried to do what he said. Eventually, my breathing slowed and I was a little calmer. It took some time, but finally, I felt a little better. We sat in silence for a while and I basked in the relief I felt in the respite. It didn't last long enough. "Why was your father so intent on purifying that night?" I shook my head slowly. I wasn't going to give him that kind of information. That was mine and I couldn't imagine telling anyone. There was only so much wickedness people could tolerate and I wasn't about to show him, or anyone, how wicked I was. "Edward, did your father call an ambulance for your brother?" The use of my name drew my attention back. I shook my head. Obviously not. "Did he try to resuscitate Joseph?" I shook my head again and pinched my eyes shut, hoping it would help lessen the pain in my head. "What did your father do when he realized Joseph wasn't breathing?" "Hhhhhhhhhhe w-w-was upset that I t-t-t-t-t-tricked G-G-God." "Yes, I understand he was upset. What did he do when he realized your brother was no longer breathing?" My head throbbed, the pain radiating throughout my body now. Dr. Eleazar's voice was quiet and patient. "Edward?" I took in a shaky but deep breath. He was asking me a question and he expected an answer. It was the unspoken rule of therapy, and I didn't want to break it. "T-t-t-tried to p-p-purify mmmme." "How?" I felt sick again. I wanted to go to my room. "I-I-I-I'm r-r-really t-t-tired." "Will you tell me how he tried to make you pure?"

I shook my head. I didn't want to tell him and my rapid breathing and stuttering voice would've prevented me even if I'd wanted to. "I w-w-w-wwwwant E-Esme." He was quiet and didn't speak until I raised my eyes to his. "I respect your attachment to Dr. Hale, but she won't be able to help you with this." He paused. I changed my position on the chair and my right hand moved to my mouth. At first I just nibbled on the thin skin over the knuckle of my thumb, but somehow ended up biting down on the heel, shoving it so far back that even my molars were clamped around the flesh. "Your panic attacks are real, but you can control them. You need to force your body to override your mind's instinctual protective measures." I wanted to be in my room, away from this. I knew I had been the one to tell him about my dreams. I knew I didn't want to have them anymore, but I didn't want to think about these things. I'd spent years avoiding them. I'd spent years telling myself that I was over all of this. But I wasn't. I couldn't breathe and my muscles were so tight I thought they'd snap. "I need you to concentrate on breathing. Just a slow in and out to the tempo of Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata." Instantly, I heard the song in my head, the slow, slow beginning. "Good. I'm going to stay in this chair and I'm not going to move. I want you to visualize something that calms you." I didn't want these panic attacks anymore. I didn't want to be that guy who freaked out so badly that the EMTs had to be called or Carlisle had to resort to sedation. I slowly did as he asked and visions of Bella cycled through my mind while Beethoven played. Bella in the meadow. Bella in the snow. Bella in the bookstore. Bella in my room. Bella smiling. Bella laughing. Bella touching me. Bella holding me. Bella kissing the scars on my back. Bella's dripping words on the foggy bathroom mirror. When I felt a little calmer, I opened my eyes. My body was still tight and anxious. I willed my jaw to relax and I pulled my hand from my mouth. "Very good." I retrained my eyes on Dr. Eleazar. His first name was Benjamin. I occupied my mind by accessing the information about the Benjamin in the Bible. "B-B-B-Benjamin w-was the ssson of J-J-Jacob and R-R-Rachel. Hhhhe w-w-was the only f-f-full b-b-brother of J-J-J-J-J-JJJJJoseph. J-J-J-Joseph g-g-gave him fffive t-times the g-g-gifts hhhhe g-gave his o-other b-b-b-brothers. B-Benjamin w-was the youngest of the t-t-twelve." "Is that so?" "My hhhead hurts."

Dr. Eleazar's eyes had softened; his gaze was just a bit kinder than ever before. "Please do one last thing for me, and then you may go." It wasn't a request. Relief flooded me. I would be able to walk away from this room soon. "Please write down the answer to my earlier question. Please tell me your father's method of purification the night your brother passed." The relief fled. Dr. Eleazar picked up a book and read while he waited for me to write what he'd requested. It took me a half-hour to muster up the courage to pick up the pen and another thirty minutes to write down a few short sentences. Before I left, I had a sudden and nearly violent urge to shred the paper. I hated that the words were there written on yellow paper in black ink. I hated the concreteness of it. I hated that he would read the words I wrote. I hated what the words said. I hated that the words were nothing more than a memory; and I hated that the memory was of something that actually happened. I fought back the urge to destroy the paper since I knew in the long run, Dr. Eleazar would ask me to write them down again or worse, speak them out loud. I left the paper on the thick arm of the overstuffed chair and left the room without saying anything further. "Jesus, baby, what did you do to your hands?" She already knew that I bit them. She'd seen me do it when I was sick. There was no use in hiding it. "I b-bit them." "Why?" I shifted on the bed, facing her and closing my eyes. "I d-d-don't kn-know w-what else to do." "But I like your hands," she said quietly. I already knew that. "I w-wish I didn't, but I c-can't hhhelp it." Her hands moved to my hair and I sighed. "Every time you're frustrated or afraid or upset, kiss me." I opened one eye and saw her smile. My smile matched hers. "And when you're happy and excited and confident and secure, you can kiss me too." "Ssssso p-pretty much a-anytime I hhhave an emotion?" Her smile widened and she nodded. "And times when you don't have emotion. I'll be happy to accept kisses then too." I brought my lips to hers. . I wanted so badly to show her how much I loved her. I wanted to make love

with her and have it be more than she'd ever experienced, and much, much more than I ever had. I wanted to make her feel how much I needed, craved. loved and worshiped her with every movement of our bodies. I wanted to feel how much she loved me. Also, as a seventeen-year-old boy, I wanted to have sex with her because I was pretty sure it would feel fantastic. When the kissing became too much, I pulled away, pressing my head back into the pillow, but I didn't force her to stop touching me. She unbuttoned my shirt and since her lips were free, she was kissing my sternum. I had become somewhat desensitized to her touching most of my body. Not that I didn't feel the sensations, because I most certainly did, but it was much easier to tolerate now without panicking. In contrast to how she was when I first met her, she moved much more slowly and never just grabbed at me. I didn't know if she was frustrated with the process, but if she was, she kept it to herself. Her mouth moved up to my neck. She had one of her hands threaded through my hair as the other rested low on my stomach. My hands were tightening and loosening rhythmically, grasping at the fitted sheet on my bed. Beethoven's Third Symphony Opus fifty-five was playing in my mind, which was about as fast as I was breathing. My skin tingled and I felt anxious with nervous energy. Her hand moved to pop the buttons of my jeans. I forced myself to remain relatively still. I breathed in, and breathed out. My breath shook as she tugged my pants down over my hips and pulled them off of me completely. I swallowed hard and watched as she crawled up the bed, moving her body over mine as she did. Her long hair tickled me and I felt as though I would jump out of my skin. Her mouth was at my ear, sucking and nibbling. The sound of her breath made me feel out of control, but I focused on her hand in my hair. It was difficult, especially when my erection was pressing between her legs. It didn't matter that she was completely clothed. The sensation was absolutely the best thing I'd ever felt, but as her lips moved along the line of my jaw, her other hand moved down between our bodies. She wrapped her fingers around me and I gasped. "It's okay," she said against my skin. "It's okay." I shut my eyes tightly and focused completely on breathing in and out. She was just holding me, but I blocked out everything except for the sound of my own breath and the sensation of pulling oxygen into my lungs. After a few short moments, I thought I was fine, but then she moved her hand. It was subtle and maybe it was more of a squeeze than a movement, but whatever it was, it was enough for my brain to shout to my body "make it stop." I sat up quickly, bringing her up until she was on her knees, her hands on my chest. She looked worried. I shook my head. "I'm ssssssorry."

"One of these days, you're going to let me make you feel good and it'll be so fucking awesome that you'll forget every fear you've ever had." While I had no doubt that she could make me feel wonderful, I doubted every much that anything could make me forget all of my fears. I watched as she moved off the bed. I wondered if she was frustrated. Her movements and expression didn't seem to express frustration, but I knew that Bella liked sex and it seemed as though I might never be able to give that to her. She moved to my iPod and switched the songs. Otis Redding came on and she turned to me with a smile. "Put your pants on and dance with me." My dick was going to poke her in the stomach and it might make me self-conscious, but when wasn't I self-conscious and who was I to deny her a dance? When I first met her, she would have rolled her eyes about dancing with someone and now she was asking me to dance. I reached for my pants and pulled them, then stood up and took her hand, tugging her close. She fit so well in my arms. My body was made to hold hers. When her head was pressed against my chest, I said, "I lllllllove you." She took a deep breath. "III know." During my next session with Dr. Eleazar, I thought for sure that he would make me talk about what I had written down on the paper, but it seemed like he wanted to talk about my parents. "Most people in this country marry out of love, or something they think is love. Do you think your father loved your mother? Do you think he was capable of loving someone?" I had no real idea if my father loved my mother. If he did, it was twisted, like his mind. He never behaved like he loved her. I saw how Carlisle was with Kate and how he was with Esme. That was love. How my father treated my mother was ownership. "He lllllloved JJJ-JJJJoseph." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and then refolded his hands on his lap. "Did he love you?" I shook my head. It was clear that he did not for obvious reasons. "Why not?" I recalled the many things my father had told me about myself. "W-w-wwwwhen I w-was b-born, I b-brought the D-Devil into the hhhhouse." "How did you do that?" Dr. Eleazar's voice was even. It didn't even seem to hold curiosity, even though he was asking a question. "I w-was m-marked. I c-c-corrupted mmmy m-m-m-mom a-a-and then the d-demons t-t-took her.

Then J-J-J-Joseph" When I forced my mouth closed, he asked, "What about Joseph?" "N-nothing." He didn't press me to continue. "So everything bad in your house was because of you?" I shook my head. "B-b-because of the D-Devil." "By whom you were marked?" At my nod he asked another question. "I'm not sure I understand how you were marked. Did your father ever explain this to you?" I shook my head. All I knew was that he believed me to be different than Joseph. "Do you believe what your father said about you?" "I d-did." "But do you believe it now?" "Sssssssm-maybe." It was hard for me to determine exactly what I believed currently. My whole life seemed upside down and I couldn't really figure out which way was up. "Did Joseph believe that?" He kept asking about Joseph and it was wearing on me. "Mmmmy hhhead h-hhhurts. C-can w-we b-b-be d-done?" "We've only be talking for a few minutes. How are your dreams?" I supposed that was his way of blowing off my request. I guess I should've felt lucky that he wasn't making me discuss my father's method of purification. "I-I-I ssstill hhhave them." "I'm sure you know that they won't go away quickly. It will take effort and time." Everything took effort and time. "Let's talk a bit about anger." I looked up from my lap. I couldn't believe I kept being surprised when he changed topics abruptly. "I think if you asked most people who knew you, they wouldn't say that you're an angry person. Yet if one looks at all of the things that have happened in your life, it's hard to understand how you wouldn't be. Are you angry at your mother for taking her own life?" I shook my head. I didn't understand why I should be upset with her for making a choice about her life, no matter how big or small. It didn't matter if I had dreams about it. It didn't matter that she left Joseph and me alone with our father when she knew his need for order and purity. It was my mother's choice and I loved my mother. She loved me. I couldn't be mad at her.

I noticed that my hands were gripping the arm of the chair tightly, so I loosened my hold and tried to relax by listening to music in my mind. "What about your father? Are you mad at him for what he did to you, to your brother, to your mother?" My father couldn't help who he was, anymore than I could help who I was. "I-I-I don't w-want to t-talk about this." "What do you do to release your anger, Edward?" I shrugged and shook my head. I didn't do anything to release my anger, because for the most part I was never angry. "If my mother left me alone with a man who split my back open with a belt on a regular basis, I would be angry with her. And I would hate him." I denied his words with another shake of my head. "The B-B-B-Bible ssssssays" I couldn't articulate the passages of Scripture that ran through my head. There were so many of them about turning the other cheek, about what befalls the wicked, about forgiveness, about the honoring of elders and parents. My body felt like it was shaking, but when I looked at my arms, they were still. "Anger is normal." I still said nothing. "I understand that you have trouble expressing yourself, but I want to impress upon you that it's important to find an outlet. You are already so gifted musically that I would think it would be a natural way to express your feelings of anger, love, hurt, or any other feeling you're having. What you should understand is you were not allowed to express things the way other children were. You might be unable to recognize everything you feel, and you might be unable to put words to them, but music might be a way to get them out there." I understood what he was saying. "I p-p-play sssssongs f-f-for mmmmy g-girlfriend." He smiled. "Are they meant to show her how you're feeling?" I nodded. "How is your girlfriend?" He could have just been asking about Bella's welfare, but I was pretty sure he was asking about how my quest for sexual intimacy with her was going. He very rarely asked about it and when he did, he was always very sly. "G-g-g-good. Sssshe makes me hhhhappy." "Are you composing amazingly jovial pieces of music then?" He was definitely being sly. By asking me if I was writing joyful music, he was asking me if I had succeeded in making love with Bella.

"K-kind of." At his quizzical, I elaborated. "The sssssongs a-a-are b-being c-composed, but they're n-n-not ffffinished yet." Again, Ms. Rice let me choose what I wanted to read. I was very thankful that I didn't have to read Seuss. I picked poetry this time. It made me happy to be reading something stimulating. It took me a while to begin, but she was patient, just watching me as my lips moved. I read it silently before trying to push out my voice. "Among the mmmen and wwwwwomen the mmmultitude, I perceive on picking mmme out by sssecret and divine signs." I was awfully proud of myself at this point. I had no issues with the 'P's. All I had to do was pause for just a second before and they came out just fine. "Acknowledging," I began again slowly, "none else, not parent, wife, hhhhhusband, b-b-b-brother, child any nearer than I am. Some are baffled, but that one is n-n-not that one knows mmme." "Very good, Edward." I wasn't finished with the poem, so I kept my head down. Being interrupted was annoying. "Ah llllover and perfect equal, I mmmmeant that you ssshould discover me by so f-f-faint indirections, and I when I mmmmeet you, mmean to discover you by the like in you." When I was finished, we discussed what I had done well, and what still needed to be worked on. Ms. Rice said nice things about my progress and told me that for the most part it was the prolongations that needed to be focused on now. To finish off the session, we had a conversation about poetry. It seemed easier for me to talk about it than to read it. I was fairly proud of myself for getting closer to my goal of having a fluid conversation with Ms. Rice. After school, once again, Bella was waiting for me with Alice. I had compartmentalized my relationship with Alice now. She existed almost entirely as Bella's friend and someone who shared my house, but there was nothing more. This arrangement seemed to suit her just fine as well. The only time there was deviation from this set-up was when she cut herself. It was happening more frequently and a part of me felt incredibly responsible, but every time she came to and showed me what she had done, she stated that she was still mad at me. I would always clean her wound as carefully as I always did, but would end it by telling her that I was still upset with her as well. While I missed the closeness I'd shared with her, I wasn't Alice's to control and I wouldn't be made to feel that I was wrong because I chose something that was right for me. Alice perceived that I was uncaring. Had she really been on my side, she would have understood why I couldn't go to the funeral and offered to help me with the emotions I did have. I didn't hate Kate.

I didn't even dislike her. I wasn't mad at her. I would have thought everyone would understand that when you see your mother hold a gun to her head, and you look in her eyes and see the moment she makes the decision to actually pull the trigger, it ruins you for shedding tears for other people. Kate was in my life for a short time and it didn't matter how impactful it was, she was not my mother and her exit from this world was so much less meaningful to me than the exit of my flesh-and-blood mother. If that made me callous, so be it. I walked up to where Bella was sitting with Alice and Jasper and said nothing. She hopped off the half-wall and I took her hand, leading her to my car. We drove around for a while, neither one of us having a pressing need to get home. It was a lovely day out. It had drizzled in the morning, but the sun was shining now. I couldn't wait for the ground to be dry enough for us to take the short hike out to the meadow. The little wildflowers should be blooming soon and I was anxious to see Bella amongst them. I stopped the car down at La Push Beach. We sat looking at the Pacific. It was still too cold for many people to be on there, but there were a few people in wetsuits surfing the small waves that came in. "Riley says that the surfing season is starting up soon. I had no clue that there even was a 'surfing season.' Did you? Anyway, he's got all these plans to move to California soon. I bet you a hundred bucks he doesn't leave." "W-who's RRRRRiley?" "A guy from work." She answered a little too lightly. Obviously she felt it was no big deal she was mentioning him. My brain and heart told me otherwise. I remembered that she had spoken of him before. He was the guy with blond hair and a beard. They were stocking milk together last week when I went in to see her. They seemed to work together a lot. I hated that. I didn't want her to talk about him. Suddenly the very masculine urge to claim her was back. I wanted her to be mine and only mine. I wanted to take her and hide her away from everyone else, to keep her safe from eyes and intentions that weren't pure. Even though my intentions weren't exactly pure right now. I turned and cupped her cheek. She smiled and leaned closer to me. I kissed her with every ounce of passion and possession I had, not to hurt her or take advantage in any way, but just to silently show her that I wanted her. I needed her to know that I could be normal and be close to her in normal ways. Somehow, during the course of our kissing, she had reached down and popped the lever that slid my seat back, and she moved to sit astride me. Once she was straddling me, she reached down to the side and pulled the lever that dropped my seatback down. I shifted, getting comfortable in my new position with her on top.

Her lips left mine and I watched as she pulled off her top and then pulled her hair to the side. "There are p-people around." "I really don't care," she responded before moving back down to me. Her breasts were pressed against my chest, her lips moving against the hollow beneath my ear. My hands gripped her hips and while in the past I would have tried to stop her gentle rocking motion, this time I didn't. I used my hold on her to press her down against me each time her body moved in a particular way. I could do this. I could have sex with my girlfriend. I could make love to Bella. Her mouth was doing such wonderful things to me and she realized that I was pressing her into me, so now she ground down on my lap. My eyes closed and I groaned. I slid my hands up her body. The curves of her hips were amazing and so was the swell of her breasts. She was wearing her blue bra again today and I could barely think at the sight of it. My hands covered the cups of her bra for just a second before I pulled them down. All rational thought of this being a public beach went right out of my head. All I could think about was the feel of her. I could only focus on what her lips felt like against the skin of my neck, of what her beautiful breasts looked like with those tight little pink nipples hard and awaiting my mouth. I could only think of the shivers, quakes, throbbing, and pulsating blood her body on top of mine caused within me. If we both weren't wearing pants, we would have been having sex because Bella was right on me. She was obviously encouraged by my active participation because, she brought her breast to my mouth and I complied by taking her nipple. I sucked and licked and enjoyed how her hands tightened in my hair. I wished that I was inside of her; I wished that we were not wearing clothes. I could do this. I could be with her the way she wanted me to, the way I wanted to. Her nipple slipped from my lips and was replaced by her tongue. She tasted so good. I wanted her. She started kissing my ear. I could hear and feel her breath. I opened my eyes and saw as she pulled back, her hips still moving in gentle circles. She was so sexy. Her arms crossed over her chest for a moment, not to shield or hide herself, but to increase her own excitement. My hands found her hips again. She ground down on me. Just the thought of being inside of her was enough to She leaned down again and whispered, "You're so fucking sexy."

The sound and feel of her breathing in my ear, the way her hair tickled my skin, her hands on my chest, the heat of her body pressing against my erection were all suddenly too much. The pressure that had been building within me snapped and I came, making the same noise I always did when I masturbated. It was something in between a groan and a whimper. Bella didn't stop moving until my hands tightened on her hips. She went to cup my face, but I couldn't look at her and I felt as though I couldn't have her touch me either. My hands left her hips and encircled her wrists, pulling them away from me and holding them against her chest. I didn't look at her. I stared at the handle of the passenger-side door, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw her looking hurt and worried. I hated myself. "Edward, I" I controlled my breathing because panicking wouldn't help at all. Every little move she made registered within me. I could even feel her breathing. It reverberated through me, accentuating that I just had an orgasm not only prematurely, but also against my underwear. Physically I felt so incredibly unclean I could've thrown up, but internally, I felt so soiled that my mind could not even work well enough to gather Bible passages in any kind of coherent way. Bella was just looking at me. She was still on top of me. I needed her off of me. She needed to stop touching me. I sat up and moved her with great effort to the passenger seat. Thoughts were racing fast inside my head, but I could make sense of none of them. She pulled her shirt back on, but was still watching me with that shocked expression. I didn't wait for her to buckle her seatbelt. I honestly couldn't remember exactly how I got her home, but I knew I did so silently. I knew I didn't look at her as she got out. It wasn't until I was under the steaming hot shower that I could even begin to process what I was feeling. I felt so dysfunctional, so wrong, so dirty and sinful. I felt confused, angry and hurt. Most of all, I felt incredibly embarrassed. Even if some of her sexual experience had come by force, she still had much, much more experience at consensual sex than I had. She knew it and I knew it. I felt so stupid most of the time, but now I felt like the biggest loser ever. Once again I was the king of the freaks because I couldn't control my reactions at all. I hadn't even realized I was that close.

I stayed in the shower and scrubbed myself for over an hour. I skipped dinner and went straight to my room. When I picked Bella up for school, I didn't talk to her. I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to see the expression she wore on my account. She tried. She tried so hard it nearly broke me, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't engage with her. I was thankful it was Friday because I knew that Dr. Eleazar would be at my house tonight. He would be able to help sort it out. He would understand without judging and I could write things down and we would shred them. Sometimes I wished that my entire life could to be shredded. I couldn't stand being this defective. I left Bella downstairs waiting with Angela Weber and I nearly flew up the stairs to Carlisle's study. When I opened the door, Dr. Eleazar wasn't in his seat yet, and the sight of him standing next to Carlisle's desk caught me off-guard. In all of our sessions, he always remained seated. I couldn't let a small thing like that stop me because I needed his help with all of the stuff in my head. I sat quickly and waited for him to do the same. "You're agitated," he said as he sat. It took me over ten minutes to work up the courage to spit out the words. "I-I-I-I c-c-c-can't hhhhhave ssssex w-with hhher." "Why?" I looked up at him. His expression was passive. "B-b-because i-it's sssssinful and w-w-wrong and I-I-I-I'm nnnnnot good at it and ssssshe is and I-I-I-I-I-I d-d-don't kn-know hhhhhhhow to" I let my voice trail off because my mouth could no longer keep up with my mind and I was frustrated. He folded his hands in his lap. "I'm not going to touch the question of morality right now, but let's talk about the rest. How do you know she's good at it?" "I-I-I c-c-can jjjjjjjust t-t-tell. Sssshe's hhhhhad a-a-a-a lllllot of ssssex." I didn't want to add it, but I felt it was vital information, so I said, "W-w-w-wwwwith a-a-a lllot of mmmmen." "She's your age?" I didn't understand why the question was important, but I nodded anyway. "So that's kind of intimidating?" I nodded again, although I couldn't blame everything on the intimidation. "But what's the rest of the reason, Edward?" He read minds, I was convinced of it. My tongue was tied. "Because you also said that you didn't know how and that you weren't good at it." Hearing my own words from his mouth made me nervous. My index finger was now between my teeth and I bit down on it.

"First, please stop doing that. It's not constructive and quite frankly, those around you are uncomfortable with that particular coping mechanism." My hand fell to my lap but my fingers curled into the flesh of my thigh. "I-I-I c-c-can't help it." "You can. Choose not to do it. Do something else when the anxiety becomes too much." I started punching my thigh. "Something that doesn't involve pain." I couldn't think of anything to do with my hands that didn't involve some form of hurting them, so I tucked them under my legs. "Good." Dr. Eleazar paused and took off his glasses, perching them on his knee before continuing. "Now, we need to talk about the sexual issues you seem to be experiencing." At his use of the word "sexual,' I cringed. Why had I brought this up? How did I think I was comfortable enough with him to discuss this? Why did I have to have "sexual issues?" "W-w-w-w-w," I tried and then, "b-b-b-b-b" "Sex seems to be a very uncomfortable topic for you. Can you tell me why?" "M-m-mm-mmmy d-d-d, fffather sssssaid" I couldn't finish. "Would you like to write it down?" I shook my head. "Ssssex is w-w-wrong." He nodded and then put his glasses back on. "I understand that your father's use of religion would give you that perspective, but I can't help but feel there is something more to it." I refused to say anything. He waited in silence. I wondered how long he would actually sit there. Just as I was about to say something to change the subject, Dr. Eleazar said, "Fine. We'll come back to that at later, but if we're not going to discuss that now, I'd like to hear about your brother." Instantly I felt tired. I didn't want to talk about Joseph, but I would have to speak about something because this was therapy and it was expected. "Hhhhhe w-was sssickffffor a long time." I knew he knew some of this, which actually made it easier to say. "My d-d-d, ffffatherw-when hhheput him in the b-b-basement, hhhhe w-w-wouldn't c-c-call anyb-b-body t-to t-t-takethe b-body." Again, I looked up and he seemed satisfied. "The sc-school d-d-didn't kn-know where J-J-J-JJJJJJoseph and I w-w-were, sssso the llllady c-came llllooking for him." "Many times people will harbor guilt when a loved one dies. You obviously have guilt stemming from what your father instilled in you about being wicked while Joseph was righteous. Do you feel that your guilt is associated with anything else? Do you feel something you did or didn't do led to your brother's death?" I felt sick because I knew I was at least partially responsible for his death. If I were being honest, I

knew I was one-hundred-percent responsible. He had taken my beating. And his illnesshe was sick because I stopped thinking about it, but nodded my answer because Dr. Eleazar was waiting. "Is that something you would like to talk about?" I shook my head. I tried not to, but I could hear Joseph's raspy voice begging me. Early on, he had told me he would die if I didn't. Even though I hated it, he always seemed to be able to make a case for it. "Can you tell me how you feel about Joseph?" I shook my head again. "Why not? "I d-d-don't kn-know." I had no idea how I really felt about Joseph. "Do you love your brother?" I nodded. "Did you look up to him?" Of course I did. He was God's goodness on Earth and he helped me when he didn't have to. I nodded. "Did you sometimes hate him?" Very slowly, I nodded again. I felt lost in my head as I was pulled back into reliving one small moment back in Chicago. "Please? Don't I help you when you need it, Eddie?" Joseph always helped me, even when it earned him more lashes. "I-I-I d-d-d-d-don't www-ww-w-w-want t-t-to." "Please? It's the only thing that helps, Eddie. Please?" I shivered because he looked really sick and I didn't want him to die, but I really didn't want to do what he was asking. "B-b-b-b-b-but D-D-D-D-D" "Dad reads it wrong," he whispered. "The Bible says to help people. God would want you to help me." I was almost thankful when a lesson interrupted our conversation, but it just started up again after my father was finished. "Afterward, I'll clean your back and make sure none of them are infected. Please?" he asked again in a heavy breath. I felt like crying. "Don't let me die."

"Edward?" I blinked and looked back up at Dr. Eleazar. It was clear from his expression he was concerned. "He ssssaid he w-would die," I whispered, shocking myself as I did. Before he could ask anything else, I grabbed the pen and paper next to my chair and wrote quickly, not thinking about the words at all, not thinking about what it all meant, but just writing it down. He would want me to tell him, and something inside of me said that someone other than me needed to know. Someone needed to know by my own words, not some old file. Without giving myself time to panic or reconsider, I shoved the pad of paper out to him. He took it, his eyes scanning the yellow page quickly. He returned the pad of paper to me without saying anything until I was holding it again. "I want to be clear about what happened. Please write what he wanted from you in order to feel better." I wanted so badly to run away. I wanted to go down to Bella and lay my head in her lap so that she could run her fingers through my hair and make everything okay again, but I was here with Dr. Eleazar because I was horribly embarrassed by my reactions to Bella. If it wasn't one extreme, it was the other. I wrote down terrifying and unspeakable words and practically threw the paper at him to avoid the rising panic within me that was swelling into a full-blown attack. He wrote something down and then passed it back to me. I read: "When and how did it start?" I didn't want to think about any of this. I wanted to run out of this room and lock myself in my bedroom where all my things were. I wanted to close the door and lock the rest of the world away because things didn't hurt so much when I was by myself. This was Bella's fault, and by extension, it was Carlisle and Esme's as well. They forced me to interact with Bella and she accepted me. If she hadn't been so nice and hadn't stuck up for me to Newton that very first day, I wouldn't be in this position. I wouldn't be discussing things that weren't fit to be spoken or thought. The things Dr. Eleazar needed to know about were shameful, hurtful, sinful things. The pen shook in my hand, but I pressed the ballpoint down onto the paper. I watched how my hand almost robotically started scripting words, the black ink contrast harshly against the soft yellow of the paper. I wrote: "It started the night my mom" I nearly wrote "died," but instead wrote, "went back to God." "He was really upset and said it would help him. He was sick a lot after, because my mom used to take care of him. My dad didn't allow us to take any medicine, but my mom would sneak it to him. Joseph

would get mad, but she did it anyway." "But after she" I couldn't finish it. I couldn't write that she was dead, so I just continued. The doctor would know what I meant "There was no more medicine and it was the only thing that made him feel better." When I was finished writing, I left the pen and paper on the arm of the chair. I knew Dr. Eleazar was waiting for me to hand it to him, but I couldn't. I propelled myself out of the chair. When I was to the door, I asked without turning around, "W-w-w-will y-y-y-you ssssh-ssssh-sssshred it?" "Of course." My feet carried me quickly to my room. I didn't go down for group. Bella never came up after. I worried that she would get Jacob Black to drive her home, but even that wasn't enough to get me out of bed. I was thankful tomorrow was Saturday and I could stay in my room all day. All night I thought about what I had revealed to Doctor Eleazar. All night I thought about the things that made me incapable of truly being a good person, a good son, a good brother, a good boyfriend. I thought of Bella. She would hate me now and I wouldn't blame her. I hadn't spoken to her all day. I hadn't looked at her either. She had gone home and probably thought I hated her. I was so tired of being incapable. I was so tired of being wicked. I was tired of being weak. I was tired of being sinful.

Chapter 55: Unspeakable Bella When I got home, I tried very hard not to think about Edward. His reactions made no sense to me. Not only did he not talk to me all day, he didn't even bother coming back down after his session. I realized

that he was upset and therapy might have messed him up even more, but he could've at least made sure I had a ride home. I was worried about him. I had no idea what the hell had happened to cause his behavior, but I knew he was basically shoving me to the side. I realized he shut down like this when the world became too fucking much, but that didn't mean it hurt me any less when he did. Thankfully Emmett was driving Rosalie home anyway, and he offered me a ride. He said Alice was a crazy driver and from experience, I knew it to be the truth. She was busy with Jasper anyway, so I accepted the ride. Rosalie was the happiest I'd ever seen her. I never would have thought a cheerleader could like a baby bump so much, but every day it grew, and every day, she was a little less bitchy. As I changed into my pajamas, I saw the bruises Edward's fingers had left on my hips the day before. I was thankful that Charlie wouldn't be able to see those. The new bruises on my wrists, however, were harder to conceal. I thought they were plain as day, but he hadn't noticed them last night. I would have to wear long sleeves again for a while. I hated this shit between Edward and me. He was so fucking hot and cold and I was so bad at telling which was which until it was too late. I'd totally misjudged him yesterday. I thought he was into it. He'd been pushing himself further each time and his hands on my hips had pulled me down onto him, so I thought he wanted Fuck. Once again, I'd fucked up. I didn't know what I should do. I wanted to have sex with him so fucking badly, and I was pretty sure he wanted to do it with me. I knew he had fucking issues, and so did I. Damn, smoking a bowl sounded good. I thought I'd backed off sufficiently, but then he started being all overtly sexual and he got me going again and now we were back to this fucked-up state of limbo, filled with misunderstandings and screw-ups. I barely slept. My mind kept me awake most of the night thinking about Edward. I wondered what he was doing. I wondered what he was feeling. My mind spun all sorts of theories and plans to make things work between us where sex was concerned, but in the end, I realized that no matter how much I thought about it, things with Edward might always be this stressed. Gone were the days of quick and easy sex. I was supposed to make stuff like that meaningful now and while it was frustrating as hell, I saw the value in it. Dr. Hale told me that having sex with someone didn't mean I was worth something to him. She said that sex wasn't the key to connecting. Edward further proved her theory by the way he treated me. He loved me. He'd said he loved me quite a few times. He always treated me with respect and didn't demand anything from me. But he wouldn't talk to me today. He completely closed the door on me and shut me out. I had broken

him. I had thought he was into something when he wasn't, and I I could drive myself insane thinking about it, but thankfully pure emotional exhaustion conquered me and I slept. Saturday I worked. I went in early and I stayed late. I did my job and spoke to as few people as possible. Riley tried to make me laugh, but his efforts failed. I left him stocking cheese to go cry in the bathroom during my fifteen-minute break. I didn't know what I would do if Edward never spoke to me again. I couldn't even imagine how fucking much that shit would hurt. I wanted to get high. I thought about not having him my life and I wished that I hadn't even bumped into him and that he hadn't been my stupid peer for therapy. I could've just gone on living like I had been instead of being completely invested in another person. But when I thought about never having known him, my fucking heart ached and I felt sick. I fucking needed him. When Charlie picked me up, he made me eat at the diner with him. He told me that I'd been looking better now that I was eating right and exercising. He told me how happy he was that I was managing my diabetes and how worried he'd been before, when he'd had to remind me to eat. I had a hard time focusing on what he was saying. "Edward and I had a fightor something." "Did he hurt you?" I looked up at Charlie as I unconsciously pulled my hands into my lap, indignant but wary. "God, no, of course not." Leave it to my policeman father to assume the worst. "He justhasn't talked to me i n like two days and I don't understand this shit." "Have you called him?" I sighed. "He's not a talker. He hates using the phone." "Well, what about that instant message crap on the internet? You use that, don't you?" "But he's not talking to me and I don't know what I'm supposed to say to get him to." He took a bite of his steak. "Invite him over, Bella. Cook him something. I've seen that kid eat your food; even if he's mad, he'll still come over to eat." It was obvious that my father didn't understand, but I couldn't get mad at him because he didn't have all the facts. There was no way I was going to share, since the fact included me dry-humping Edward in his car at the beach. But I took his advice and got on to the instant messaging system when I got home. Edward wasn't online, so I sent him an e-mail instead.

Edward, I'm sorry if you're mad at me. I told you that you need to tell me when you are. Come over for dinner tomorrow. Please? Charlie said that he'd try curry and I found out that curry just means "a mix of spices," and I found one that's not hot. I'll make it for you. Maybe it won't be as good as Kate's, but it might turn out okay. Will you come over tomorrow? I don't like not talking to you. I'm sorry I pushed you too far. Would you please talk to me? B. I hated the entire e-mail, but clicked send anyway. I didn't know what to say, especially since I thought he hated me. I could think of no other reason why he wouldn't talk to me. Sunday sucked. I went about my day in a trance waiting for him. I went to work for four hours and did nothing but think about him. I thought of all the things I needed to say. He had to know how I felt about shit. When I came home, I used the elliptical for an hour and started prepping for dinner. I wasn't even sure he'd show up since I got nothing in reply to my e-mail, but I didn't want to think about the possibility that he'd really turn me down. So when the doorbell rang, I ran to the door, smiling when I saw him. He wasn't looking at me, but he was here and that was enough. Dinner was awkward. Charlie was trying to drive the conversation, but finally gave up and finished his food early. He retired to the armchair with a beer in his hand. "Did you like the curry?" I asked Edward tentatively after Charlie went to the other room. He nodded. He didn't even try to use his voice to respond. It brought tears to my eyes. I wanted to know what he was thinking. I wanted to know if he was all right. I wanted to know if we were all right. I put down my fork and stood up. Taking his hand, I pulled him up and led him up the stairs to my room. The dishes could wait. When we were alone, I asked him, "Do you hate me?" "N-no." He still wouldn't look at me and I could barely look at him. "Do you still want to be my boyfriend?" "Yes." I moved over to my dresser and started fiddling with the little music box. "I don't think we should, you know, try toumyou know, to have sex or whatever anymore." I'd been thinking about it since it happened and this seemed like the only logical thing we could do. I didn't want to break up with him, but he couldn't handle sex, so I would have to come to terms that we

would have a sexless relationship. I could handle it. I would have to. "W-w-w-what?" I didn't turn around to look at him. It would be too painful and I might not be able to say any of this. "I justit's fucking confusing as hell and I can't really handle it. Sometimes you seem like you're so into it and okay and then," I snapped my fingers, "suddenly you freak-out. Sometimes you break shit, other times you won't fucking talk, and apart from completely stopping the physical part of our relationship, I don't know what to do." "Bella," he said and I turned around not believing how beautiful my name sounded in his rich, honey voice, "I-I-I-I-I c-c-can" He couldn't finish the thought. "I still want to be your girlfriend, but I don't think it's smart for us to" "B-b-b-b-but I c-c-c-can t-t-try" God, he looked so beautifully broken. Everything in me wanted to fix all the little broken pieces. "I get why it's difficult for you. I understand what you're going through. You know I do, but I can't come home with bruises on my wrists and arms anymore. Charlie's already asked about them and there will come a point when he stops asking and just assumes you're hurting me." "A-a-a-a, b-b-b-b" he tried, but no actual words came out. "I'd rather just be, you know, not sexual with you than force you into something you're clearly uncomfortable with and risk you getting in trouble for things you can't control." "Y-y-y-y-you d-d-don't w-wwww-wwwwant me?" He wasn't listening! How could he think that? "Fuck, yes, I want you! It's intense how much I want you. You have no idea how fucking much I do, but I don't think the sex shit's going to get any easier and I'm tired of being confused. As much as I want you physically, my heart wants you more. I fucking need you and this shit with sex just drives a huge wedge between us. It hurts." He was chewing on his fucking hand now and I hated it. I took it from his mouth and held it, wiping away the wetness with my thumb. I'd caught him in time. He hadn't broken the skin in a new place. "We can be, you know, physical or whatever, but I don't want the goal to be sex because that just fucks it all up." "B-b-but I c-c-can w-w-work at it." "I know you can, and I know you have, but we can't fucking take it anymore. I mean, it's clear that you" I stopped, not wanting to make him feel defective, "You're not ready for all that." He was depressed. It wasn't hard to see. "I fucking love you, Edward." His eyes finally locked with mine. "And I hate seeing you in pain and shit, so I'm backing the fuck off before I break you."

"I-I-I w-w-won't b-b-b-bbbrreak." "How do I know that? You won't talk to me about shit. It's cool because I know how fucking hard it is to deal with, but you know what happened to me. I know nothing about what happened to you. I don't know what your father did to you." He pulled his hands back and took a step away from me. I feared that yet again I'd said the wrong thing. He continued to move back until he was in the corner between my wall and my door. The palms of his hands were flat against the wall. I didn't understand it. The corner would be the last place I'd have chosen to put myself. "I-i-i-i-i-it w-w-w-w-wasn't mmmmmmy ffffffffff." Oh. "fffffather." Oh, shit. That pretty much left one person, unless it happened in foster care. I took a step toward him. "You don't have to tell me. I'm not trying to get you to tell me." I took another step. It was clear that he was shaking. I wondered if he ever admitted to himself that this shit happened to him. It was obviously his brother who'd done it, because he rarely spoke about him. I wondered if that meant that he rarely even allowed himself to think about what happened. He looked like he could pass out any moment, but I was proud of him for not having an attack. His hand was off the wall now, twisted around so he was biting the meaty part beneath his pinky finger. I continued to move to him slowly. My goal was to keep him calm and get his hand out of his mouth. If I could do that, I could lead him to my bed and lie with him. The nearness would relax him. This was not why I had invited him over. When I was close enough, I carefully pressed a gentle hand on his stomach. Then I took his hand out of his mouth. I now hated every member of his biological family. "I'm sorry," I whispered, not really sure if I was apologizing for backing him into a corner or if I was merely commiserating with him as a kindred victim. His eyes were clamped shut and his head was upturned as he struggled for breath. I wanted him to know, like I'd said before, nothing he could say, no scars he could show me, would change how I felt about him. The problem was that I couldn't just come right out and say, "I don't hold it against you that your brother fucked you."

He was freaking out and I needed him to relax and know that I fucking loved him. I loved every bit of him. As scary as that was for me, I did. I loved his smile and his scars. I loved his hopefulness and his pain. Knowing for certain what had happened to him didn't change that. Sometimes things between us were better without words, so once I had his hands in mine, I pulled them over my shoulders and stepped into his arms. I heard the rapid thumping of his heart and felt his chest rise and fall quickly, but felt satisfaction when his arms tightened around my shoulders. I felt the shaking of his body and I hated it. It took a long time, but I finally coaxed him out of the corner. He was still really tense when we made it to the bed and although he lay down with me, his hand was back in his mouth. It didn't seem like he was biting it though. There were a million questions that I wanted to ask, but it wasn't the time. Edward kept everything so tightly locked up that I didn't think he really even knew what happened to him until the box was opened and the secrets slipped out. I knew next to nothing about his brother, but now I knew that he'd Jesus. I could barely think about that shit myself; it wasn't a wonder that Edward had issues saying it. After a while Edward took his hand out of his mouth and we looked at each other for a long time without speaking. It was disarming to stare so deeply into his eyes and yet somehow it was comforting. I got this feeling like I truly knew him in the most profound way someone could know another person. I still had no idea how that shit happened, and if it was like what happened with me or something different, but now I knew. I knew that someone he should've been able to trust, took something from him. Something priceless that could never be given back. "I-I w-w-w-want to mmmmake llllll-llllove w-w-with you, B-Bella." I cringed at the terminology. The whole "making love" thing always set me on edge. It seemed sodramatic and unrealistic. Making love wasn't about body parts being inserted and withdrawn. Making love was what Edward and I always did. We came together and shared the little parts of ourselves that no one else was privy to. Now was not the time to correct him on word usage though, and if I said "I want to fuck you too," or even "I want to have sex with you too," he'd focus on the words and wonder if I didn't really love him, so I went with it. "Me too, but I think" Dear Flying Spaghetti Monster, was I really saying this? I took a deep breath and continued. "I think we should wait." He didn't say anything, but his hand moved to my hip. I scooted closer. My head nestled in underneath his chin. I loved being held by him. I fucking loved it. I was almost asleep when he spoke. "I-I d-don't wwwant to w-w-wait." He paused and then said, "Y-y-you c-can't save me from w-what's already hhhhappened. I wwwant to be with you." I could've asked him if he wanted to talk about his past, but I knew that people who said talking about it made you feel better had never experienced shit like we had. There were so many things involved in

our silence. The things that happened to me, that happened to him, were shameful. They were disgusting and it was bad enough to live through them once; who in their right mind would actually want to talk about it and live through it again? These were unspeakable things. Edward told me that he wanted to have sex, but I wasn't quite sure he could actually follow through with it. It wouldn't be his fault and I knew that, but I didn't think I could keep going this way. I felt so bad after each failed attempt. I felt like I was preying on him. Even when he was actively pursuing the touching; even when he was gripping my hips and grinding me down on him like last time, I still came away feeling like I was forcing him to do things he didn't want to. I didn't want to keep feeling like that, but if we stopped altogether, he would internalize that shit until he convinced himself that I didn't want him. "Fine, but," I said, pulling away from him just enough to see his face, "you're in control of everything. I'm not going to initiate it and if you start getting," I was going to say "weird," but I stopped. "If shit starts getting fucked-up, I'm stopping it." He said nothing, so I nestled back against him and enjoyed the smell and feel of him. "You are so lucky your dad bought you this," Angela said through panting breaths as she used the elliptical. I was sitting on the washing machine watching as her little legs went into overdrive and sweat was just about pouring off of her. A week ago she discovered the exercise equipment when she came over to work on a Shakespeare project with me. She continued to hound me until I said she could use it. I was with her when she told her mother that we were still working on the project. This was her way of getting back at her mother for making her eat foods loaded with calories, fat, and carbs. "So what are you up to?" She looked at me with a smile, "Eight-fifty." "I'm pulling the plug at nine hundred." I was pretty sure skinny chicks who rarely ate, shouldn't be burning that many calories in one workout. I had a plan though. She'd told her mom that she'd be staying for dinner, so I was planning to make it healthy and while she was in the kitchen with me, I would drop all these little tips about how she could eat all these carrots for only thirty calories, or about how she could make noodles out of zucchinis and save all the starch and about a hundred calories. Then, if my plan worked, she would go home knowing just how big of a portion she could eat of the right foods. She could still count all of her calories, but she could get far better nutrition if she ate well. Plus, that'd give her ammunition against her mother. If she learned how to eat right, she could eat a decent portion and keep her mother happy, while keeping her calories low. I didn't think she should be starving herself, but I wouldn't have wanted to eat that shit her mother forced down her throat either. No longer tied to being buzzed or numbed-out on drugs all the time, I'd begun to notice a whole host of things that I hadn't before. Angela was an example. I'd thought she looked sick before I gave up pot and all that, but once I saw her with sober eyes, I realized how bad-off the girl really was. Her hair was thin and dull, her eyes sunken, and her skin had gone beyond pale; it was some kind of shade of gray. I hated seeing her like that.

She had a boyfriend who said nice things to her all the time, but I could tell that Ben had absolutely no idea how to handle the situation. As much as he might have said he loved her, no guy wanted to stick around to watch his girlfriend die slowly of malnutrition and starvation. I had Charlie as back-up. I asked him not to say anything about weight or how she looked and told him it wouldd be helpful if he dropped little hints about how kids who eat right do better in school and feel better about themselves; all the stupid shit parents say. When it came time for him to actually say that stuff, he messed it all up by saying it kind of robotically, but at least he tried. I had to smile at his attempt. He tried a lot for me. We attempted a few different things to help us connect, as Dr. Hale would say. He didn't drink nearly as much as he had been in past months, and twice a week we had to have dinner together, followed by some kind of activity, which usually turned out to be watching something on the flat-screen. Two weeks ago, we tried to build a puzzle, but both of us decided it was stupid and gave up. We played cards instead. He actually taught me how to play Texas Hold 'Em and I had fun. It was strange and awkward, but it was something. On Wednesday we had therapy with Dr. Hale. I never liked therapy with Charlie because no matter how well we did throughout the week, all the stupid shit came out, and it felt like any progress we'd made was erased. I knew it really wasn't. I knew that Dr. Hale's therapy helped create those good times when we were at home, but during our sessions, that progress sometimes seemed a long way away and I had to struggle to remember. We didn't talk about Renee's phone call. I didn't think Charlie even knew I'd overheard him. It was for the best because I had nothing to say. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to hit a bong. I had to keep telling myself that my mother wouldn't come here. I was safe. "She started calling me Charlie instead of Dad when she was nine," he said. "Do you remember why that was, Bella?" I sighed and brought my knees up to my chest. "Because I saw him maybe thirty-five days out of three-hundred-and-sixty-five in a year. I figured a dad had to be around more than that" "Did your mother use the love you had for your dad against you?" I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge the question. It would mean admitting that at one time I'd loved him. He got tired of my silence and answered for me. "She made Bella burn the gifts I sent her." "Did you want to distance yourself from him? I bet it hurt less to think of him as just some guy named Charlie instead of your dad." I hated it when she did that. She was right, of course, but I hated it, so I wouldn't admit it. "He didn't act like a dad." "Bella, I tried." His voice was pained and he almost got me feeling sad for him. "When you came up for the summers, I tried. I know we didn't ever do much, but I didn't know any better. I tried to set up play dates and take you places, but I"

I hated having to sit here and listened to his pained voice, so I said, "You did fine. I'm sure I didn't act like a good daughter, so whatever." Silence settled upon us until Dr. Hale said, "We could probably take up the rest of our sessions together talking about the past, but I think it's important to check-in with each other about the future. Charlie, what do you want for and from your daughter?" He scratched his neck before smoothing down his mustache. "Uh, well, for the future, I just want her to be happy. I don't want to hear her cry ever again. I'd like for her not to hate me so damn much, but I'd settle for her calling me dad again." "Bella? Same question." "What do I want for Charlie in the future?" I clarified and continued at her nod. "I guess I want him to be happy too. What do I want from him? Nothing. I mean, I think we're good, right?" I looked to Dr. Hale for an answer, but she drew my gaze to my father. "Right?" "I'll never get back those years with you, Bells. But I want you to be in my life for longer than until you graduate." I looked away again. That deep pool of anger inside of me was welling and flooding and it would soon bubble out. He could say things like that all he wanted, but they meant nothing. He still hadn't saved me when I'd needed him. He'd still stopped calling and drank beer and fucked some other dude's wife instead. He sighed and his shoulders slumped. He lookedold. His eyes matched the pleading tone in his voice as he spoke. "I can't make up for not knowing what was happening in your life. I can't. I know that I messed up with that. I should've done things differently but the fact is that I didn't. And here we are." I picked at my jeans. "Here we are." Weeks were flying by quickly. I started looking forward to the end of school. It would be wonderful to have all day to spend with Edward during the summer. I finally had a Saturday off. Edward and I were going for a drive somewhere since it was so nice out. He was going to pick me up at eleven, so after I ate and cleaned the kitchen, I headed down to the basement to put in a half-hour on the elliptical. Thirty minutes turned into forty-five, and then that gave way to just shy of an hour. I had completely lost track of the time. I looked at the clock on the wall. Edward should have been here at least fifteen minutes ago. When I came upstairs, I found him sitting in the living room with Charlie watching baseball. Edward stood up as soon as he saw me. "Hi." I looked at him oddly. "Hi. Why didn't you come get me?" "Told 'im you were in the basement. Seems he wanted to see our Mariners kick some ass today." Charlie spoke without looking up. Edward gave me a nervous smile which told me he wanted to be away from my father as quickly as possible. I was still in shock that he'd been watching baseball with my father.

When we finally got upstairs, Edward sat on my bed. I was sweaty and gross, so I didn't really get too close, but I asked again, "Why didn't you come get me?" He looked anxious, his chest rising rapidly and his fingers curled around the edge of the mattress. "I-I-I-I d-don't liiiike b-b-basements." Instantly I wondered what had happened to him in a basement. Nearly all of the things I hated had stories behind them. I could only imagine the stories behind the things he hated. I wasn't going to ask him anything, but it seemed as though he wanted to be quite sure that I wouldn't. He asked abruptly, "Wwwwwill you be ready ssssoon?" "Just let me take a shower." He nodded and didn't say anything until I was almost out the door. "You hhhhaven't eaten hhhhave you?" I was annoyed. "My blood sugar is fine. I checked it before I started" He shook his head. "Th-th-that's nnnnot why I asked." "Oh. Not since breakfast, but I'm hungry, why?" He smiled without a word, so I just smiled back and went to the bathroom to get ready. I found out why he asked when he took me hiking in the woods and I found myself in the meadow. I was happy I'd brought my camera this time and started taking pictures. When I turned back around to snap one of him, I saw that he'd taken a bunch of stuff out of his backpack. Suddenly there was a blue blanket surrounded by green grass and beautiful wildflowers, with a spread of food on top of it. "I-I-I mmmmade us llll-llllllunch." I smiled at him. "You're so fucking awesome." I wished he knew that. I wished he believed me every time I said it to him. I said it to him as often as I could. He'd made sandwiches and a fruit salad. It was definitely a start. We sat and ate, giving each other little stupid smiles that probably meant something loving and kind. The ones I gave him were meant to say that at least, but I wasn't sure if I was doing the whole "loving" thing right yet. I was easing into the terminology. I readily admitted to myself that I loved him, and I'd come to accept that he loved me, even if I thought he shouldn't. It wasn't something I told him every day, but I hoped my stupid schoolgirl smiles would silently let him know how much I really did. Once the food was gone, we lay back and looked up at the blue sky. It was an absolutely perfect day. I hated to break the peace, but I wanted to talk. "So you were all quiet yesterday." After his session with his doctor, Edward hadn't said a word. He wasn't rude, he was just quiet. I worried about him when he got like that. I looked over at him and he nodded. "Do you like Dr. Eleazar?" "Yes."

"Does he make you talk?" "No. He mmmmakes me w-write." "Oh." It was good that his doctor tried to communicate in ways that made Edward comfortable. He looked like he was concentrating and then in an unfaltering voice, he asked, "C-can I k-kiss you?" Since I'd told him I didn't think we should work toward having sex, he'd been asking before initiating any physical contact. Of course I always said yes, but he was amazingly cute and sweet when he asked. I nodded and watched as he inched towards me. He was on his side beside me and I was lying on my back. His lips brushed mine and I took a deep breath through my nose, savoring that earthy orange scent that was entirely his own. After a moment, he gently placed his hand on my stomach and traced my bottom lip with his tongue. Hands down, Edward Cullen was the best kisser ever. I had goose-bumps. I felt electrified by him. He moved his hand under my shirt and carefully squeezed my breast. I'd never had such a gentle man touch me. He was always so careful when we were like this. It was true there were times when he got upset and his muscles reacted by contracting, but that wasn't his fault. But when we were like this and he was touching me in this uniquely loving and erotic way, he was never harsh. I supposed this was what lovers did. It wasn't grabbing and groping. It was caressing and stroking. Speaking of stroking, there hadn't been much of my touch going on either. We had been working on desensitizing him, but after what happened in the car that day, I hadn't tried to again and he certainly hadn't asked me to. I wanted to. I wanted to so badly. But I was unwilling to break him, so just as I'd promised, I let him call the shots. He'd unbuttoned my shirt and pulled the cups of my bra down. One breast was covered by his hand, the other by his mouth. My breathing was ragged and I took turns focusing on his hair and the wildflowers around me. If only he was comfortable having sex. I could say that I'd been fucked in a desert, a forest, and a meadow. I stiffened just slightly as the thought drove home all of the experience I had. If I could, I'd take it all back and give my virginity to Edward. But I couldn't. My moment of tension caused Edward to still. He was breathing hard and looking up at me now.

"I'm okay," I assured him softly. I didn't want him to think that he'd hurt me or gone too far. He resumed his fantastic suckling and kneading. If only I could come from just these manipulations. The sensations felt like they should've been enough. Just as I thought I would never catch my breath again, he tensed. That was when I realized his hard-on was pressing into my leg. I kept still. My leg itched, but I refused to scratch it. I wanted to grab him and make him do those wonderful things again. But I didn't. I pressed my head back into the blanket, and waited. After what seemed like forever, he moved his mouth up to my neck and began working at it. Then he moved his hand from my breast to the button of my jeans. He popped it and I felt a little scared. I didn't want to get involved in this if the outcome would be frustrating. My pants were pulled down past my hips and I felt his hand move between my legs. I tried to focus on what he was doing and how my body felt, but there was this nagging voice in my head that kept asking what the point of all this was if he won't even let me see his body, if I'm not allowed to touch him. Where was this all going? I didn't question anything about our emotional relationship, just the physical part. It seemed to me that it was going to be nothing but frustration. Not sexually, at least not for me, because he seemed perfectly willing and able to provide me rockin' orgasms courtesy of his hands. No, it would be frustration of another kind. It would be the kind of frustration I was totally unused to. I wanted to give him back the kind of pleasure he gave me, but he didn't want that. Every time I wanted to bring him some kind of satisfaction, I'd have to hold myself back. Even now, as he was manipulating my body in very nice ways, I was focused on something else. And that sucked. My body was fairly well-versed in engaging in sexual acts and coming without much participation from my mind, but with Edward, I wanted to be present, both physically and mentally, so I tried to release the thoughts rattling around in my head and concentrate on the moment.. My orgasm brought me back to him. He had sat up and was pulling his shirt over his head. When he saw me looking at him, his cheeks reddened a little and he cocked his head to the side. "D-d-doctor E-E-Ellleazzzzzzar says that you w-wouldn't be wwwith me unless you c-cared and if you c-care ab-bout me, then you won't care about w-what you mmmight see."

Holy shit, what was he saying? Might see? What might I see? I studied his chest, thinking about how sexy he was, but I asked, "You talk to him about us? About what we do?" I wasn't really upset about it, I just wanted to know. I never asked what he spoke to his therapist about because it wasn't my business, but he did mention it, so "N-no. I-I-I mean, yyyyes. Well, wwwe t-talk in ggggeneral t-terms ab-b-b-bout mmmusic, b-but it's r-r-rrrrreally ab-b-bout sex," he whispered the last word. Damn, I guess he really was working on all this. My eyes were glued to his hands and they hovered around the button of his jeans. Thank god he was going to take them off! He sure was taking his time with it though. "I've seen you in your underwear before, remember?" "B-b-but w-we're outside." I smiled. "The birds don't care about your underwear. I doubt the raccoons do either. Besides, they're sleeping." His answering smile was shaky. Even though he knew I loved him and I was sitting on a blanket in nothing but an open button-down shirt and a bra with the cups pulled down, he was making no forward progress in removing his clothing. I fought the urge to pull his jeans off. Edward had to do it. "C-c-close your eyes? P-p-please?" For a second, fear gripped me, because I hated the dark and not being able to see what was about to come. In the dark, anything could happen and there was no preparing for it. But this was Edward. He'd asked me to do something to make him more comfortable, so I would do it. If he was going to get naked in the middle of our beautiful meadow on this gorgeous sunny day, then I would do what needed to be done in order to make it happen. When I closed my eyes, he was on his knees, just like me. I breathed in and out rhythmically. I hated not having all my senses, but I could hear really well. I heard the birds chirping and the new leaves of the trees swaying and swishing up above. I also heard him remove his pants. I felt foolish sitting there with my eyes closed as he took off his clothes, but I figured he probably felt foolish asking me to do it. I wanted so badly for him to feel good about himself. He needed to know how good he was, how worthy he was. His warm hand took one of mine and very slowly, he brought it to him. I was tempted to open my eyes, but I didn't want him to freak-out. This was a trust thing. I was trusting him not to do anything horrible to me while my eyes were closed, and he was trusting me to give him the space he needed by

not looking. I held my breath when I realized he was moving my hand to hold him through his boxer-briefs. It was amazing how the anticipation of what was about to happen heightened my level of lust. It felt better than the orgasm he'd just given me. I could have focused solely on the dick in my hand, but I paid attention to his breathing as well. His breathing was the key. It would tell me if he was near, or on the verge of, a panic attack. His hand was over mine, and it tightened. He moved our hands down to the base and then back up. I think we both moaned a little with the movement. I wanted to jump him right then because his cock was fucking awesome in my hand. It wasn't small but wasn't massive either. But as I envisioned it in my mind, it was perfect for him; it was perfect for me. I'd never been much into length. To me it was always the girth that made it appealing, and Edward seemed to have girth on his side. This was exciting. All of my worries about where this was going had disappeared. He was letting me touch him. He was giving me this and forcing himself to remain calm during the whole thing. He brought our hands back up to the tip and I smiled at the feel of the thick head in the palm of my hand. I wanted more and I wanted to hear his moan again. I moved my hand to the base and back up again quickly. "Sssstop." He pulled my hand away from him. I fought to keep my eyes closed. I felt like shit again. This was exactly why I didn't want to get involved in this shit again. I always went away feeling like a fucking predator. "I'm sorry." His hand squeezed mine and after a second he said, "It's o-o-okay. I-I-I'm o-okay." When he brought my hand back, my fingers curled around him. I inhaled sharply when I realized that he was no longer covered by his underwear. I must have been so focused on whether he was okay that I hadn't heard him pull them down. I was scared to say anything. I felt like anything I did, any big movements or loud noises, would freak him out and I didn't want that. It was not lost on me how big of a step Edward was taking here. I didn't understand why he was so worried. He felt fine. His penis felt fine. The skin was soft and silky. I didn't understand his fear. It felt like any other penis, soft flesh and raised veins, coarse, springy hair at the base. I went to move my hand and he let me. I moved it slow, my fingertips gently skimming the tight cord on the underside. He took deep, shaky breaths. His hand fell away from mine. The responsibility to be respectful and aware now rested squarely on my shoulders, or in my hand, rather. Slowly I moved my hand to cup his balls.

Oh. I could tell his body was shaking. Just the tips of my fingers felt again. He had He had only one. Oh, shit. I was pretty sure I never wanted to hear the story behind that. Edward's breathing was rough and staggered now. He seemed like he might be on the verge of a panic attack. My eyes opened to check on him and he pushed away my hand, immediately moving to cover himself with his hands. For a quick second, I could see deep red, nearly purplish lines on the shaft. I'd seen my share of penises, and I'd never seen anything like those lines. Those were the scars he'd warned me about. I felt sick. I felt sick and disgusted that someone could do that to him. It was horrible that he felt so bad because of them. He managed to pull his underwear back up while still covering himself. He wasn't looking at me. His face was turned completely to the side, so all I saw was his profile. His expression was pained and I could only imagine the memories that flooded through him. I knew it was his brother who had hurt him like Renee's boyfriend hurt me, but I couldn't understand why he wouldwhy he would disfigure him like that. "Joseph did that?" My voice was but a whisper. Slowly, he shook his head. Not Joseph. My mind raced. "Your father?" He nodded, his eyes closing as he drew up his knees and laid his head upon them. "How? Why?" There were so many questions. Even though I didn't want the answers, I felt compelled to ask them. "Why would he do?" "P-p-p-p-p-punishment ffffffor J-J-JJJJJJoseph." Holy motherfuck. His fucking dad was a sick bastard. "You were punished for what your brother did to you?" It took him a while to answer and when he did, his voice was barely audible. "D-d-don't yyyell, Bella. I w-was p-p-punished fffffor w-w-what I d-d-did to JJJJJJJJJJJ-JJJJJ," he stopped and sighed, "him." I didn't understand. Like always when he said something about his fucked up family, I felt completely lost. "What did you do to him?"

"C-c-c-corrupted hhhhim. Mmmmmade hhhhim w-w-weak lllliiiike me." "I don't" "I-i-it g-g-g-got inf-f-fected. W-w-when they c-came to t-take mmmme aw-way, I w-wouldn't llllet them ssssee. They t-t-took me t-to the hhhhospital. There w-w-were a llllot of p-people and I c-c-couldn't sssstop them. Th-they said it w-was inf-fected, so they t-t-t-to-took it." I could picture it in my mind. Little Edward scared out of his mind at all the people asking him to tell them things. They probably had no idea he had communication issues, let alone issues with people in general. They probably scared him so badly that he curled up into a ball and couldn't breathe. Then they probably shot him up with a bunch of different drugs and shipped him off to the hospital where big, male nurses held him down so that the doctor could do his job. Fuck, he must have been scared. He was probably hurting quite a bit, but like me, he would just function around the pain. So when the people asked him if he was hurt, of course he didn't say anything. Especially about something like that. How could someone? Fuck, I couldn't even think about that shit. I didn't even know if I had a mind sick enough to imagine what his father had done to him. I wondered if his father had found Joseph being a sick bastard and took it out on Edward. His family was so fucked. There were so many questions I could've asked, but one came to the forefront. "If your father did that to you, what did he do to your brother?" The stillness left his body and Edward sprang into motion. He pulled on his pants and tugged on his shirt. I took that as my cue to do the same. Once we were clothed again, he finally answered. "Hhhhhe k-k-k-killed hhhim." I felt like I was the one who stuttered as all I could do was sputter small, senseless sounds. "B-but hhhhhe d-d-didn't k-k-k-kill hhhhhim on p-purpose, Bella. My ffffather w-w-was upset w-w-with mmmme and p-p-probably w-w-w-would've k-k-k-k-k-killed mmmme, b-b-but J-J-Joseph... B-b-b-but he wwwwas sssick and hhhhe c-c-couldn't t-t-take it. Hhhhhe d-d-died fffffor mmmy ssssins." Just like motherfucking Jesus. "Your brother fucked you, Edward," I said a little too angrily. "How is that your sin?" It was, of course, the wrong thing to say because he started to panic. His fists curled into the blanket and his chest heaved. His eyes closed and his muscles tensed. I moved quickly to soothe him, running my hands through his hair and down his shoulders and back. His forehead rested on my chest. It took some time, but finally he relaxed enough for me to ease him down onto the blanket. I'd had enough of this line of conversation, and I was pretty sure he had as well.

I pointed to the sky. "Look, there's a fluffy bunny." He took a deep breath, looked at me and then back at the sky. "Th-there's a g-g-guitar." Good. He needed to talk. He needed to play this game with me. "What kind?" "A G-G-Gibson." I smiled and then pointed to another one. "That one's a dog on a motorcycle. See its floppy ears?" I looked over and found a soft smile playing on his lips. "It llllooks m-m-more like one of those r-r-r-r-riverboats to mmmme." "Maybe you're right." We lay quite peacefully together. After long minutes of silence, I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. He turned his eyes to me and they locked with mine. I loved him. "I still think you're crazy-sexy."

Chapter 56: Persistent Itch Bella I was so tired. Edward kept me up with a constant stream of instant messages all night. We didn't chat about anything important, just this and that, odds and ends. I suspected he was avoiding sleep. Since that day last week in the meadow, he'd let me touch him quite a lot. I was surprised because for all of his reluctance before, he seemed relatively at ease with the shift. In fact, he sought my touch more often than I initiated it. I hadn't been able to jerk him off completely yet. He always stopped it before he came. He was so shy about that shit and it seemed as though he was much more interested in exploring my body. I wondered idly if what was about avoidance as well, but I found it hard to fight his attentions. I was just about to fall asleep to thoughts of Edward's hands on me, when Alice nudged me very hard. "What?" I practically hissed. "She just said that you won first place," she nodded toward our Photography teacher. "Who said what about what?" I was totally lost. Alice looked at me like I was crazy. "She entered you into that state-wide still-life contest and you won the blue ribbon." "What?" I looked around and everyone was looking back at me, including the teacher. If I understood Alice correctly, I'd just won something for some stupid photo I'd taken. "Huh?" I asked loudly. Ms. Clark repeated almost exactly what Alice said. I looked at the board and saw the crappy photo of Charlie's fishing equipment.

"Cool, um, thanks." I was thankful when everyone stopped looking at me. After school, Alice talked me into hanging out with her and Rosalie. The longer my relationship went on with Edward, the nicer Rosalie was to me. It was like I was accepted into the little club of people she liked all of a sudden. It had become more common for the three of us to hang out here and there. Edward never seemed too happy about it and would spend time alone in his room playing music or reading. Typically I wouldn't stay away from him too long. I hated the thought of him sitting by himself when I was in the same house, but Dr. Hale thought diversifying my interpersonal relationships would help me transition from angry drug user/abuser to recovering addict with a solid social support network. I still hated the term "recovering addict" because I wasn't one, but I'd given up fighting against it long ago. She could call me or categorize me as whatever she wanted. Time with her in therapy made shit more bearable. Alice was painting Rose's toenails and I was thanking the Flying Spaghetti Monster that it wasn't my toes going through all that. "So, um," I began smoothly, "how's the whole pregnant thing going?" I felt ridiculous talking to a pregnant chick. I had no idea what to talk about or what to ask. A genuine smile appeared and it might have been one of the first times I'd ever seen one on her face. "Wonderful! If I went into labor right now, he'd survive. He'd be able to breathe on his own! Did Edward tell you it's a boy?" Edward typically avoided most or all discussion about Rosalie and Emmett's baby. I didn't know if it was because his father programmed him to think that a baby out of wedlock was sinful, or it was something else. I shook my head. "It sucks you won't go to school the first semester with Emmett though, right?" Alice looked at me and shook her head. Rosalie's voice was a tad icy when she asked, "Why does that suck? The most important thing a person can do is raise a child. I think it's great that I'll have the ability to go back when the baby's ready." I treaded carefully, not having much clue as to who Rosalie really was or what her take was on childrearing, only knowing college had been the plan and now it wasn't. "But don't you want to go to school? You're on the honor roll and all that." She smiled again. "I'm looking forward to raising him the way he should be raised and I'll go to school when it's time. Nothing will stop me from having a career and a happy, healthy family." Alice went back to painting Rosalie's nails, but said, "Jasper's so excited to be an uncle." Her face fell a little when she went on. "He's going to Stanford next fall to be close to Rose and the baby." That figured. I was surprised Alice hadn't mentioned it before. She seemed to live or die by what mood he was in. "You're okay with that?" "I'll go there in a year." It had been eating away at me for a while, so I asked something I probably shouldn't have. "Why are Jasper's emotions so out of control?" Rosalie jumped to his defense immediately. "How would you be? We watched our dad slowly kill our mom until one day she was nearly dead on the kitchen floor. Blood was seeping from her ears, her mouth, and her nose, and my dad just kept kicking her. How would you be if you knew the only thing stopping your father from killing your mother was you and a baseball bat?" Alice had stopped what she was doing and sat on the bed, her legs folded under her as she listened to Rosalie.

"He was so into baseball before that. I mean, he was the best Little League player in the state, but now he can't even walk past a sporting goods store." I knew the story. Edward had summed up what happened, but I guess I never stopped to think about how horrible it would have been. "He might not be in control of his emotions, but he's earned the right to be confused." Jasper had defended his mom against his dad. Who knew what they'd endured and for how long? Before now I'd never had anything to defend, and back when I was in Phoenix, I didn't think myself worthy of defense, much less defending anyone else. "I wasn't being mean, I just wanted to understand." "My dad told him every day that he needed to be a man. He said men didn't cry, so if he wanted to be a girl to just keep crying. It wasn't like he cried because he got a bad grade or ruined his favorite shoes. He cried because he watched our dad beat the shit out of our mom, and when he was really drunk, he hit us too." I didn't know what to say, but I still had a ton of questions. One thing about being sober was that I seemed to give a shit about people now. I couldn't turn it off. I had so many questions about how the people I spent my Friday nights with, got so fucked up. "But your mom's smart and shit, so how did she wind up with someone like that?" Rosalie usually just had one expression and that was anger, but tonight, it seemed she was going to let them all out. Her face softened. "My dad was smart too. Smart guys with high-stress jobs on Wall Street drink and some of them beat the shit out of their families." Out of the blue on a Thursday night, I felt a sudden urge to snort a bunch of coke. It hadn't happened in a while. Not knowing what to do or who to call, and not wanting to worry Edward, I started cleaning. I cleaned the whole fucking house until the only thing that was left was Charlie's room. I hadn't been in his room in a long, long time. I didn't really want to go in there for whatever reason, but I had nothing left to clean. There was no homework to be done and dinner was cooked and eaten. "Can I vacuum your room?" I called down the stairs. "Okay." He yelled up from the living room. I opened the door slowly and entered as if it was some sacred place, peeking around the door and flicking on the light. I was honestly impressed. I thought it'd be a disaster area, but it wasn't too bad. He had a hamper by the door, so there were no dirty clothes on the floor. I tried to vacuum quickly but when I got near the nightstand, I saw a picture that broke my heart. In it, I had to have been about six, and he and I were standing in front of some body of water. He was kneeling down and had his left arm around me. His right arm was in a cast. We were both smiling. Looking at it opened up a pit in my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. And I wanted to snort coke and possibly smoke a fatty when I was tired of being super-high. I finished vacuuming and headed downstairs. If I went to my room, I was sure I'd go crazy and climb out the window to find some shit. I needed a distraction. I found myself standing in front of Charlie and waited until he looked away from the TV. "Do you want to play some cards or something? I don't know any games other than that Texas Hold 'Em one, but you could, you know, teach me something new or whatever."

 The craving lasted through my troubled sleep. It was like a persistent itch. I hated that feeling of need. I hated waking up wondering where the fuck my bong was. I hadn't had a bong since I left Phoenix. I hated that I had the urge to call Jacob. I could ride to school with him instead of Edward. I could give him a hand job until we pulled into the parking lot. He'd take me by my hand and lead me to the woods where he'd fuck me any number of ways against a tree. I would come and come again and when he was spent, I would drag his hand between my legs and make him make me come once more. We would hear the bell ring and ignore it. I'd get him hard again. We'd fuck until I was tired, until I was sore, until the fluttering in my chest was sated. And then we'd smoke a bowl. And then I'd do a line. And then another one. And maybe a bump before the Fuck-Up Club. I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, hoping that focusing on the tiny cracks in the plaster would help drive the visuals away. The thing was, I could fucking smell the sex and the drugs. I could fucking taste them. Edward would be hurt. He would hate himself because I snorted shit. He would hate himself because I fucked Jake because he was an easy lay. He would stutter and stammer about how my infidelity and drug use was a reflection on him, and how he wasn't enough and he couldn't fault me for it. I didn't want that. I lay in there until Charlie hollered up the stairs and then I rolled out of bed, hollered back, and went into the bathroom. Charlie had pills in the bathroom. Nothing that would have gotten me high, but still, the urge to crush them up and snort them remained. I wondered if anyone had ever snorted Lipitor before. I ate breakfast with him like usual. He made scrambled eggs, and he'd done a good job this morning. He watched me give myself insulin and I felt like crying. I wished I was a better kid for him. I showered and got ready. Charlie left and I could have drunk his beer, but I didn't. I went out onto the porch and waited for Edward. The weight on my chest lessened when I saw his silver car. As soon as I opened the passenger door and was hit with the scents of earth and oranges, the tightness relaxed. "Hhhhhi, Bella." His smile was just what I needed. He was playing soothing music that relaxed and calmed me. When we pulled into the parking lot, I looked over at him just in time to see him leaning over to me. We kissed and his lips felt so good, so warm. His tongue moved into my mouth and I smiled against him as I thought about how far he'd come since I'd first jumped him after our day in Olympia. Our kissing didn't stop. He reached over and unbuckled my seatbelt and then did the same to his. My hands were resting in my lap until he took one of them and pulled it to his chest. I pressed it to him and mumbled against his mouth. "You have no idea how bad I want you."

My mind launched into a full-blown fantasy in which I unzipped his pants, pulled his hard-on out, and rode him until the lunch bell rang. I wanted him. But then I felt disgusting because it was only an hour or so ago that I'd had a fantasy about Jacob. I wondered if it was Edward I wanted, or just dick. I heard the warning bell and pulled away from him. I discreetly glanced at his lap. He was only semi-hard. I didn't look at him as I grabbed my bag and got out of the car. He held my hand as we walked into school, but my mind was preoccupied with the thought of just wanting to get laid. Or high. Or both. Edward deserved so much better. I was thankful when Dr. Hale called me into Dr. Cullen's office. I had shit on my mind. We started out with small-talk about the weather and stupid shit like that. She asked about school and I told her about the first-place photograph I took. "That's wonderful, Bella. That must make you proud." "I guess. I told Charlie." "Oh?" "He thought it was cool." I studied her after I realized that she hadn't asked me any deep or probing questions. "You look tired." She smiled just a little. "I am tired." I wondered why she was tired. Was she sick? Did she just not sleep well? Too much hot doctor sex with Sexy Cullen, M.D.? The last question reminded me of how badly I wanted to fuck, but I tried to push that back down. "Why?" Dr. Hale smiled again and she really did look tired. "Have you ever wanted something so much that you worked really, really hard for it, but as soon as you could almost hold the success in your hands, it slips further away from you?" I wasn't quite sure if I had, so I shrugged. "Well, if you can imagine it, that's some of what has made me tired." Suddenly, I was hit with a kind of panic, like I was the cause of her feeling like that. It did nothing to help me push back the urge to get high. "Is itis it something I did? I mean, do you feel" I couldn't finish the sentence and I wasn't sure if I wanted to know the answer. "No, Bella," she said softly. "It's all my own" she paused to find a word, "stuff." My legs started bouncing. "So, Bella, how are you?" I told her about my desire for something numbing. Although I could have predicted her reply, I hated it nonetheless. She nodded slowly until I was finished speaking and then she said, "How do you feel about joining a program? An actual recovery program?"

"Like rehab?" There was no way I was going to rehab. I was completely off drugs. "More like a twelve-step program." "No." "No?" "No," I repeated. I wasn't a fucking recovering addict and I didn't need any more people knowing my fucked-up business. "You need people who can help when you're feeling this way." I looked at the large quartz crystal on the bookshelf. "I have you." I glanced at her very quickly and then trained my eyes once again on the rock. "That's flattering and I hope you know how happy I am to be here for you, but with a program, you'll have peers that know exactly what it's like to want to use for no discernable reason. It's important that you find support for times like these." "I'm fine," I said, shaking my head. I didn't want to think about twelve steps of anything. "Edward worries about you." Before I could say it, she did. "Even if you think he shouldn't, he does. He doesn't say anything, but I think he worries that he won't be enough for you and eventually, you'll return to drugs." I wasn't surprised to learn that. Edward's mother had chosen drugs. But the whole thought made me nervous and rang a little too true with the thoughts I'd been having. I fidgeted again. "Why does it scare you that someone cares for you?" I mumbled my answer. "Because it hasn't happened before." "Why don't you want to press charges against your mother or her boyfriend?" I stiffened. That wasn't what I was here to talk about, so I ignored it. "You know how you said that the way I experienced sex wasn't the way it was supposed to be experienced?" Dr. Hale nodded. I sighed and studied the paint on the walls. "What's it supposed to be like?" She was silent for a moment and I wondered if she'd heard my quiet question. "It's subjective, but I think sex should be about sharing a part of one's self with another person. When there are no more words, or not enough words, to express yourself, giving your body, your trust, and your energy and taking of another's, is incredibly powerful." I absently picked at the worn knee of my jeans and looked at the edges of the walls. There was a teeny-tiny spider web in the corner, near the ceiling that hadn't been there before. "Do you think it was wrong that I didn't fight back? You know, when he did what he did?" "Sometimes fighting back makes it worse." "Why'd you stay with your husband when he beat you?" She looked away, but only for a moment. "Because back then, I couldn't see any other way to live. He wasn't always like that. He could be kind, and at the time, it was incredibly important to me to make it all work." "But he beat your kids." She sighed. I wasn't trying to make her feel like she had failed; I just wanted to know. "I was foolish enough to think I could change him. I thought if I was a better person, a better wife, he wouldn't drink

so much." "Charlie drinks." I don't know why I said that. "How does that make you feel?" "It doesn't make me feel anything." I paused as my chest tightened. "Is Edward foolish enough to think he can change me?" It took her a moment to come up with a response. "With you and Edward, it's different. From what I've seen, neither of you tries to control the other and both of you want to change." I was so happy to find myself alone with him after group. I'd been so distant because my shit was all fucked up, but I felt better now. I felt calm. We were lying on his bed, just looking into each other's eyes the way they do on TV shows and movies. "You're ssssso p-p-p-pretty." I smiled, even though what he said embarrassed me. "And you're fucking sexy." He shook his head in denial. "Are to. You have a nice smile and your eyes do crazy things to my insides." His smile faltered and he looked worried. "What?" "Mmmmy b-b-body is d-damaged." I made both my expression and voice serious so that he would know I wasn't joking. "Your body shows character, and I don't care about the scars, you're still sexy as hell." While I cringed every time I thought about the scars on his penis and his missing part, it wasn't because I was disgusted by him. I was disgusted by his father and saddened for him. Whatever happened must've hurt like hell. His mouth opened a little and his breathing became slightly heavier. He ran his hand through my hair and it felt wonderful. I could see why he liked it when I did that to him. We inched closer together until I was pressed tightly against him. My body was pulsating for him and his hand moved down so his thumb could stroke my scar. Then he brought his lips to mine. We kissed for a long time until he pulled off our shirts. Giving him more power to initiate this kind of closeness had really paid off. He constantly was pushing himself to go further. In no time, both of us were without pants. Then he unclasped my bra. He'd gotten much better at it since that first time. And then the only thing left was his underwear. His hard-on was pressed against my thigh. I intentionally rubbed against it, but waited until his eyes were open again before moving my hand to snake into the opening. I grasped him firmly and then held still until his breathing had calmed back down and he relaxed. Then I stroked him. I kept my eyes fixed on his. He always had trouble maintaining eye contact when I was doing this. He shivered and his eyes closed while his mouth opened again and a gentle noise escaped. His body shuddered and I wondered if today would be the day that he let himself come. I hoped he wouldn't pull my hand away. I wanted to give him the same kind of pleasure he gave me. I carefully pulled his cock free. His eyes popped opened and then snapped shut once he saw that mine were fixed on his face, and not his dick. When his breathing quickened, I whispered into his ear, "It's okay, Edward."

"B-b-but B-Bellait'sd-d-d-d" he paused to suck in a deep breath, "r-r-r-r-r" His head tilted back and the hand on my hip tightened. His eyes pinched tighter and another shudder ran through him. I smiled. Finally he let me bring him off. He shot warm cum onto my thighs. As much I wanted to have an orgasm myself, this was almost better than my own physical release. I was so happy to be able to do this for him. Unlike times in the past, this wasn't degrading. No one told me to or forced me to do it. I wanted to. His hips bucked once and then pulled back. I released him immediately, knowing that guys were typically really sensitive after coming. I kissed his chin, his cheek, and his forehead. When I pulled back, his face was twisted up in worry. "Edw" He sat up quickly and grabbed his discarded shirt. Although I knew it was bothering him that he wasn't clean, he wiped me up first. Then he practically scrubbed his dick before tucking himself back into his boxer-briefs and pulling on his pants and another shirt. He left the room quickly, the door clicking behind him softly. I'd done something wrong. Again. When he came back, I was just pushing my arm through my shirt and his face was relaxed. He held out a warm, wet washcloth to me. I took it, turned away and started cleaning the drying mess. It was awkward as I finished dressing. It was awkward until he pulled me into his arms and kissed my temple. Regardless of his initial reaction, the hug and kiss told me that he was okay with what had happened. We didn't talk about it because he would have been embarrassed, and I would have said something stupid and made it worse. We just let it be. On Saturday, shit was better in my head. I didn't wake up wanting to be high. Edward drove us to Olympia again and we went to the zoo. The motherfucking zoo. Apart from one field trip when I was eight, I'd never been to the zoo. Based on his reaction, I figured Edward was in the same boat. We had fun looking at the animals. Edward read all of the educational plaques. He even read some of the more interesting facts out loud. I loved his voice. Before going home, we grabbed coffees and sat in the little bookstore reading books we'd picked out for each other. I was happier than I had ever been.

Chapter 57: Hallelujah Edward Bella smiled nine times and sighed contentedly twice in an hour. I'd been counting. It felt important to count them, since it wasn't that long ago that I almost never saw her smile. I was feeling so comfortable with her these days. School was almost out and the prospect of spending my summer days with her filled me with happiness. Still, I was sure we'd have a few days apart. I was prepared to accept that I might have to go on another Cullen vacation or Chief Swan might take her fishing, but the majority of our days would be spent together. I loved her so much that it was difficult for me to think of anything else sometimes. Playing music helped when she wasn't with me. I could let my fingers glide over keys or strings and let my mind wander. When I played, hours would pass like seconds and I would be that much closer to seeing her again. I thought about her all the time. Since the beginning of our relationship, my mind had been consumed by her, but now another aspect had been added. I thought about her body constantly. I wanted to see her without clothes again. Every day. She was so beautiful. Every last bit of her was perfect. She was strong and sexy. I wanted to be next to her. Above her. Below her. I wanted to be inside her. I wanted to have sex with Bella, to make love with her, because I loved her. She loved me too. She knew about what happened to me. She knew it wasshe knew who She knew. And she still wanted me. She could see the sin dripping from me and she was still here. Dr. Eleazar said I needed to be able to think about what happened to me without using judgmental words like "sinful" and "wicked," but even when asked about it specifically, I could only think and talk about it in vague terms. Anything else was too much. I didn't want to think about anything other than being with Bella. She was so patient and kind. She didn't make big deals out of things and she had given me the responsibility for steering our physical relationship. I pushed myself because I didn't want to disappoint her. I pushed myself because I didn't think I could take disappointing myself anymore. I wanted Bella. She was my girlfriend and I was going to make her happy, and in the process I would be happy too. It no longer mattered if anyone thought it was sinful. It would be beautiful and perfect. Every small stride forward physically with Bella was a huge success for me. With every step, there was concentration required to avoid any anxious panic. Once the step was completed, I always had an initial reaction that stemmed from the religious dogma of my father and my past experience, but I worked very hard to stifle the reactions I knew weren't normal for a teenage boy. I still wasn't comfortable with her touching me, no matter how much I wanted it. There was quite a bit of anxiety on my part, complete with clenched teeth and tight muscles. It happened each and every

time she took me into her hand. I willed myself to stay cool, to be calm, to be normal. I couldn't understand how I'd forced myself to have sex with Jessica, to actually be inside of her, when I had such a difficult time even letting Bella touch me. Maybe it was because it was dark that night on the beach and she couldn't see my scars. Maybe because I knew Jessica was meaningless to me, just as I was meaningless to her. Maybe because I knew Bella was so important and I didn't want to mess this up. It was hard to fight the panic in the meadow when she felt my body for the first time. Her eyes opened near the end and I knew she saw. I knew that I didn't look like all the other guys she'd been with. I had worried about what would happen when she finally saw the scars and the missing part of me. She acted as though it wasn't a big deal. Finally, I was able to let her bring me to climax. It was enjoyable, but I was constantly fighting my urge to panic. After it happened, I realized that it had gotten on her legs and hand. I should have thought of that beforehand and prepared for it. It bothered me that it was on her. I wanted her to take a shower, but thought it would be weird to ask her. Would a normal person do that? Also, if she did, everyone in the house would know what we'd been up to. It was all worrisome. Without saying a word, I escaped to the bathroom where I stared at the spot on the mirror where she'd written her message. Bella loved me. That thought brought back all the reasons I was going through this. I wanted to show her that I loved her too. While I'd been making a lot of progress on that front, I set a goal to actually have sex with her soon. I knew "soon" was relative, but it was better than giving myself an actual deadline. In my mind, I figured it would happen before school let out. Since the night she'd given me that orgasm, I was having more ease with bringing myself off. Once I let go of the worry and shame of the sin, the act became enjoyable. Each time was better, and more fulfilling than the previous. Then when I was with Bella, focusing most of my energy on her, what she did for me became exciting. It might have been somewhat uncomfortable, but it was still pleasing. It was all mental at this point. I wanted so much to be inside of her. I knew I could do it. Not only would she let me, but I felt physically and emotionally ready. There was nothing wrong or evil about connecting that way with someone you loved and it would help cement that I wasn't a failure and doomed to be what I'd always been told I was. During our last session, Dr. Eleazar basically equated the things my father did to how political regimes go about brainwashing people. So if it was true, the things he taught me about my wickedness were wrong. It made sense, because Bella wouldn't love me if I was wicked. Mike Newton was wicked. Her mother and her mother's boyfriend were wicked. My father was wicked. Not me. I had just gotten finished telling Bella why the fiddle was different from the violin because she'd mistaken one for the other, when she moved over to me and sat down on my lap. We were on her rocking chair. The wood creaked as her body twisted so her mouth could connect with mine. One of her hands was in her lap while the other curled around my neck. She shifted and pressed against my semi-hard penis. The sensation took me off guard, so I stiffened for a moment. It really wasn't an issue, but she stopped and moved to the bed again.

I hated the empty feeling. "Bella?" "Sorry, I never know" As her voice trailed off, I realized that she thought I had just experienced a panicked reaction like I had in the past. I hated that I was giving her a complex about all of this. "N-no, I'm o-okay." I gave her a small smile, but she only returned it for a second. "C-come b-back to me." "Why don't you ever tell me about what he did to you?" Bella didn't move as my mind struggled to figure out what it was the she was asking, but then it dawned on me. She was asking about Joseph. I hated thinking about it. I hated that she wanted to know. I was thankful that she still wanted me, but I didn't want to share details about it. I didn't want to think about the details, but she deserved an answer. "B-b-because it's n-nothing I www-wwwant you to know ab-bout." Her voice was quiet, making her sound like a small, mousy girl when she was nothing like that. "But I told you about" My body tensed at just the thought of someone hurting her the way that man had, the way Newton had. I hated that she'd had the same experience, but it made me a little angry that she was using it as a way to get me to talk about something I obviously didn't want to talk about. "It's n-n-not 'y-you sssshow me yours, I sssshow you m-mine.' It's" "I know it'sembarrassing. It's not something you want to broadcast. I know it's" "Sssshameful," I finished for her. "It's not your fault he did that to you. Not that I know what he even did, but" "Y-y-y-y-you w-w-w-want d-d-d-d-det-details? I-i-it's b-b-b-b-bad en-nough you know ssssssomething lllliiiike that hhhhhhappened to m-m-m-me at all." "Why? You know about what happened to me." It was difficult to look at her. "I-i-i-it's d-d-d-different." "How?" I didn't want to go into all of this. It wasn't a conversation I wanted to have. I wasn't prepared for it, but I could tell this was something she would push. "That mmmmm-mmmmman fffffforced y-you. M-m-m-m-my b-b-b-b-br" I stopped and felt the need to gasp for air. I couldn't continue. I couldn't say the word "brother" and I doubted I'd be able to say his name either. She sighed deeply, her face turned away from me. Her arms were cradling her belly which made her breasts stand out and I couldn't help but focus on them. Her father wouldn't be home for an hour and a half. She would start dinner in an hour. I didn't want to talk about her past or mine. I didn't want to think about all of the horrible things that were stacked so high around us that we could barely peer over the top. I wanted to feel her body close to mine. I wanted her heat to saturate me. I wanted her hands in my hair and her lips placing light kisses across my jaw. I wanted to feel her soft touch on the cave-troll skin of my back. I wanted to feel her breath against my cheek and hear her little lusty sounds in my ear. I wanted her pressed against me. I wanted to rub my scar-hardened body against her softness.

I wanted to touch her in her soft, warm places and feel her nipple between my lips. I wanted her fingers to curl and dig into my flesh because of how I made her feel. My body tight and ready for the contact, I got up and practically crawled onto the bed and on top of her. My body drove hers to move back, until I was lying on her, my hips nestled between her legs. Her thighs gripped me and pulled my body tighter to her. Her arms wrapped around my neck and shoulders and I buried my face in her soft hair. I found the spot on her neck and ran my tongue over the four raised marks. I hated the scar, but I loved the spot. I loved that she let me touch her. I still couldn't believe that she did. It seemed surreal that she would want someone like me, but no matter how anxious I was, no matter how dysfunctional I'd shown myself to be, she still allowed me inside her tall, well-guarded walls. She was moving her hips in a tight little circle. It drove most of my thoughts away. A sound floated from somewhere deep in her throat. It was a moan, a groan, a sigh, a sob of something hopeful. I pulled away just slightly, only enough to move a hand to her breast. She arched up into my touch. Bella excited me. I wanted her hands on me. I wanted them somewhere other than my back. I wanted them in places that ached for attention. As if she'd read my thoughts, her hand snaked between our bodies. I was still pressed against her tightly, but she somehow managed to get her hand down there and unzip my jeans. Then her hand was touching my hard flesh. My hand abandoned her breast. I had to use it to brace myself as her fingers curled around my erection, holding it tightly. My instincts told me to thrust my hips, and so I did. Bella continued to hold me as I moved myself in and out of her hand. "Wait," she whispered. My hips stopped. My mind quickly went full-speed as it tried to figure out what I could have possibly done wrong. She pulled her hand away and I watched in equal parts fascination and disgust as she licked her hand twice. I hoped her hand wasn't dirty. She moved it back between our bodies and my hips raised to make it easier. Despite some disgust about her wet hand, I found myself perfectly willing to accept it on that particular part of my body. She pumped me once, moving her fist from the tip to the base. That was all it took to get my hips to pump and thrust again. The force of my actions pressed her hand into the junction of her legs. Every so often she would moan just a little. It was satisfying. My face was turned away from hers. I thought about looking into her eyes, but the prospect scared me. I felt like the connection might be a little too much considering what I was doing to her hand. I could feel it happening, in my mind and in my body. Unlike when I spoke, the two worked in unison now, my body sending rapid signals to my brain. It heightened and interpreted those signals as pleasure, thus bringing my body closer to the physical release and my mind closer to the spiritual, intellectual, and mental release of orgasm. I wanted to be inside of her so badly, but had to be satisfied with this connection for now. It still brought me closer to her. It still brought me closer to being comfortable with the thought of being inside of her soon.

Her hold on me tightened and on every downward thrust I made, she twisted her hand. The sensation was intense and I soon found myself grunting softly as I came. My body felt tired and sedated. I let my head sag, my forehead resting against her shoulder. Her hand ran gently through my hair as I panted against her. When my brain began to function again, I started thinking about what just happened. My hips moved back and I felt myself slip from her asI sat back on my heels. It was all over her hand. It was on her pants. I looked at myself. It was on me. I shut my eyes tight. It was okay. I was okay. This was the way it was supposed to be. This was normal. My jaw tightened. This was what happened when there was an orgasm. Bella didn't mind. My eyes opened and I found her watching me. She might not have minded, but I did. I moved off the bed, tucking myself back in and leaving the room quickly to find the comfort of the bathroom. I started feeling better when the warmth of the wet washcloth gently raked my skin. I scrubbed it all off. I also made sure to get it off of my pants. I took her a clean washcloth, but found that she had already changed her pants. I was thankful for that. There was nothing on her hand, but I wiped it just the same. She was silent and let me do it. I wiped from her wrist to her fingertips. I cleaned between her fingers and even under her nails as much as I could without hurting her. She pulled her hand back and moved away from me. I wanted her to come back. "Did I do something wrong?" Her question took me off guard and I stumbled and fumbled to answer her. "W-w-w-w-what?" She would only steal small glances at me. "When we do that, am Ido I do something you don't like or" Oh God, how she made me ache. "N-n-nnno." I put the washcloth in her hamper and moved to her quickly, pulling her to me. I pushed her back into the wall and pressed against her with the entire length of my body. Her hands fisted in my shirt. She rose up on her toes and kissed my neck. I bent down and pressed my lips to hers. Suddenly I was holding her against the wall and her legs were wrapped around my waist. Again, my instincts told me to thrust, but after a few motions, my body froze. I couldn't There was no explanation; I just couldn't make my body move that way. I backed away, easing her back down gently. God, I wanted her right now, and I wanted her to know that I did, but my mouth wouldn't cooperate. So she stood there looking rejected, hurt and confused, and I was powerless to do anything about it because my body was as frozen as my words, and I hated that I couldn't just give her what she obviously wanted.

But my mind was frantically running, voices from the past speaking their thoughts in my mind, words of Scripture clogging it up. All the while that small part of myself that was nothing more than a seventeen-year-old boy who was with an extremely beautiful girl ready to do anything, was screaming at me to make it happen. I was having trouble sorting it all out in my head. There were too many thoughts going in a million different directions. I wished I was normal for her, but my body and mind worked in unison to let me know that I couldn't do what she wanted me to. There was no way to tell her that it had nothing to do with her. It was all inside my head, keeping me from being what she wanted, what she expected. "You've said before that sex outside of marriage is a sin, and yet you seem fairly fixated on engaging in it with your girlfriend. I have to wonder why you have that as a goal if it's so clearly uncomfortable for you." Speaking was uncomfortable, but it was still a goal of mine to be less hindered by my impediment. I looked at Dr. Eleazar, and the way he was looking at me, but not really looking at me. I wish he and the others around me, like Bella and Carlisle, would just understand that I knew the voices in my head were contradictory. I just couldn't do anything about it. "Mmmmmy d-d, fffffather taught me that." He tapped his pen against the yellow legal pad resting in his lap. "Yet you had sex when you were fourteen." "I d-don't always b-believe wwwhat mmmmmy d-d, ffffather taught me." Besides, I was already damned. What were a few more sins to a soulless being? "Every time we speak you try to say the word 'dad,' but always replace it with 'father' when you're unable. Why do you keep trying?" Joseph called him Dad. I shrugged. "So when do you choose to believe him? When do you choose not to?" It was hard to think for myself when my mind was murky and muddled with my father's teachings When I didn't answer, he switched the topic, his tone shifting as well. "I'd like to talk about Joseph." My breathing caught and he held out the pad of paper and pen that had been resting on the table next to him. I took it slowly. "What you aren't comfortable saying, you can write." He paused for a moment, giving me time to feel comfortable. "Did Joseph take your punishments often?" I nodded. "I w-w-wwas in t-t-t-t-trouble a-a-a-a-a lot." "Why?" "Hhhhhe ssssaid it w-was b-b-because I asked ssssstupid qu-questions." "You looked up to him?" He asked that before, so I didn't respond. "When your mother died" Before the question was out, my fingers tightened on the chair and the room shrunk. "Remember, Edward, you control your reactions, not the other way around." That was easy for him to say. He didn't have panic-inducing chemicals flooding his brain right now; but I tried to control them. I focused on breathing slowly. I willed my hands to relax.

"Good. When your mother died, that began of the shift of his expectations from you." That was an interesting way of putting it. "What were Joseph's other reactions to her death?" I tried very hard to monitor my breathing. Heavy in, slow out. Deeply in, measured out. "Hhhhhe hhhhelped mmme clean up." "Clean up?" I stared at my left hand. It twitched and for a moment I could have sworn that I brought it to my mouth, but it remained on the arm of the chair. "She d-did it in my r-r-r-room." Although I wasn't looking directly at him, I could see from the corner of my eye when the realization hit. "Oh." Oh. It must be a completely different experience to hear it from someone's mouth rather than just reading it in a file. "You and your brother had to clean up after it happened?" "I-I-I-I did. J-J-J-JJJJhe d-decided to hhhelp me." "He helped you a lot?" I nodded. "So you trusted Joseph?" I wished Dr. Eleazar wouldn't call him by his name so much. He could have said "him and he". I would've known who he meant. I nodded slowly. "So that night after cleaning up, I presume, you went to his room because you felt it was safe?" My mind slowed down until it felt as if it was trudging through mud. "There wwwwere nnnno d-d-demons in his room. O-o-only angels." "What happened that night in his room?" Again, my breath caught. I'd already told him vaguely about what happened. I didn't want to talk about it anymore. I shook my head. "Remember, you may write it down." I shook my head again. "Did he use your trust in him against you?" My toes curled in my shoes and I crossed my legs at the ankles. Breathe in. Breathe out. I glanced up at him. He was regarding me cautiously. "Does it help to know that he was a child as well, and probably had very little idea of what he was asking of you?" My breathing was heavy now. My eyelids too. I wanted to sleep. "He was twelve when your mother died."

Technically he was still eleven for a few hours after she died, but I didn't think that mattered to Dr. Eleazar. "That is right about the age when most boys become curious about their bodies, and you were both experiencing a great deal of emotional trauma." My hands were fists now and my arms jerked, pushing the pad of paper to the floor. I looked at it at my feet. "Many times perpetrators of sexual abuse are victims themselves. Do you think Joseph suffered something similar to what he did to you?" There was pain in my hand and blood in my mouth. I was really very tired. After long, painful minutes, I managed to pull my hand from my mouth. I would need to clean it. I didn't want to get an infection. "I hhhhhhave t-t-t-to ggggo t-t-to mmmmy r-r-room nnnow." "Edward," he said as I moved to stand, "your brother helped you with your stuttering. He tried to lessen the impact of your father's treatment of you. He took some of your punishments. You wanted to return the favor because he said he needed it." It wasn't a question, but I knew he wanted validation. I just wanted to be away. "I-I-I-I d-d-d-didn't w-w-want him to d-d-d-die." . "I th-thought ab-bout you all day." "Yeah?" she asked with a smile. "Yeah," I confirmed with a nod. "What about me?" Her eyes were twinkling and I loved when they looked like that. They made me feel at ease and not nervous at all. I blushed. "A-a-ab-bout hhhhow ssssexy you are." Bella pushed out her jaw as her eyes danced across my face, studying me. Now I was feeling a bit nervous. "Damn! You're cute when you blush." I looked away at the embarrassing compliment, but looked back up when she said, "I think about how sexy you are all the time." I tried to deny what she was saying, wanting to let her know that while she was being kind, I didn't believe for a second that I was anything close to sexy, but then her lips were against mine. Her father arrived home and interrupted us and we I pulled away from each other. I tried to help her with dinner, but really I probably just got in her way. We talked about the new art collection that would be in Seattle next week. We made tentative plans to go before the exhibit was gone. She said maybe we'd go for my birthday. It was about a month away. The thought of doing something so special with someone so special on my birthday excited me. Until I lived with Carlisle and Kate, I'd never gotten to do anything special just because it was my birthday. Even if we did nothing but lie around all day, it would be better than any birthday I'd ever had.

A gentle knock sounded on my bedroom door, startling me in the silence. I glanced at the clock. It was three in the morning. It had to be Alice. I got up and tugged on my t-shirt. When I opened the door, I wasn't surprised to see her bouncing nervously, her hand pressed to her midsection. She'd been cutting herself more often. It was always at night now. I didn't know how she was doing it since there were weekly sweeps of her room to keep her from collecting anything sharp. She could say that it wasn't a conscious thing she did, but somehow she kept finding tools to cut with. Razors, scissors and knives were usually locked up, so she must've used something else. I hadn't told anyone. I felt as like it was my secret to keep for her, otherwise they'd send her away again. "I cut myself." It was the same every time. I took her hand, closed my door and moved across the hall to the bathroom. She leaned against the vanity as she held up her shirt. The cut was much deeper than in weeks past. "I'm not mad at you anymore," she whispered. "Don't be mad at me." "O-o-o-okay." Truth be told, while I'd hung onto the memory of my frustration and anger, the feelings had dried up long ago. Just like that, Alice and I were okay again. "Jasper said he made up his mind." I raised an eyebrow, wondering what mercurial decision he'd made now. "He's not going to U-Dub." I looked at her as I cleaned her wound, waiting for the crumpled, hurt expression but her face shifted into a smile. "He said he didn't want to go to Stanford either. He said I could get my G.E.D. and we could take his motorcycle and just travel." I took a deep breath and released it slowly. "That's ssssstupid, Alllliiiice." "What?" "Hhhhhe'll g-g-go wwwwhere R-R-Rose d-does. You know that." Now her face fell and I hated that I had wiped the hope from her features. "Yeah," she whispered, just barely audible. I continued cleaning the cut, wincing whenever she did. "Y-you hhhhave to sssstop, Alllliiiiice. P-p-please?" "I don't mean to. I can't help it. One minute I'm sleeping or reading and the next, I'm bloody. I swear I don't even remember it." "Y-you n-n-need to t-t-tell C-C-Carlisle or" "They'll send me away." "Y-y-you c-c-c-could d-d-d-die. I-I-I d-d-don't w-w-want you to d-die."

"I'll die if they send me back, Edward." She put her hands over mine and I looked into her eyes. "I'll die if I go back." I hated this. One day she could wind up killing herself accidentally, but she said she would die if she went back. I didn't want Alice to die. Bella and I went back to my house after school the next day and ate apples and peanut butter. Carlisle was at work and Emmett and Alice were at the Hales'. No one would be home for hours. In my room we sat on the bed, listening to music and flipping through the pictures she'd just developed. They were from the meadow and they made me smile. They were really good, like the one that won the blue ribbon. Last time I'd gone over to her house, I was pleased to see that it was tacked up on the wall, next to a page of music I had given her. We'd been talking about how beautiful notes were, so I wrote a few bars of her song down on the back of an old Biology quiz. I loved that it was on her wall. The day was going well and my question came out of nowhere. "D-did it hurt?" She looked at me in surprise, then stacked the photographs and tucked them into the portfolio I'd given her for Christmas. "Did what hurt?" she asked when she was no longer looking me. I didn't want to say the words, and I doubted I could even if I did, so I just watched her and waited until she looked at me again, as her lips settled in a frown. Bella studied my face, her eyes finding and fixing on mine. We both knew what I was asking. She smoothed her hair back, pulling it to one side, making the scar visible. Her body shifted and she gently took the portfolio and leaned it up against my bedside table. She sat upright, took my left hand, and started picking at my nails. "The first time hurt a lot. I mean, mostly in the beginning, but later it only hurt when he made it hurt; when I didn'tdo something he wanted me to do. Um, sometimes he made it hurt just for fun." I felt sick and wished I hadn't asked. I watched her shrug. "I got used to it." She was silent then as her nails gently scraped mine. I knew she was waiting for me to reciprocate in kind, and tell her something about what happened to me, but I couldn't. My chest wouldn't produce the air needed to push sounds from my throat. It wasn't until she began to fidget that I was able to speak again. "Y-you d-don't d-desssserve that." She looked at my books across the room as she asked, "What do I deserve?" "L-l-l-llllove." She shook her head and took a deep breath. She was clearly uncomfortable. "I don'tI mean, what is that anyway?" Even though we both didn't have much experience with love, I wanted to show her what I thought it was. I wanted her to know that I loved her. I needed her to feel it with everything she was. I reached out for her, to touch her scar. She didn't flinch and I loved it. Her hand was still on mine, holding it as I touched her. Our eyes were locked. Beethoven's Ghost piano trio played. I kissed her, and as the piano began to overtake the violins again, I pressed her back against my bed. God, she was so beautiful. She was much, much more beautiful than anything Beethoven ever wrote; more beautiful than any work of art in any museum. I loved her so much.

It was easy to find the courage to undress her and while being naked wasn't easy for me, I felt as though it was natural to be lying with her like this. Her legs were open and gripping my hips. It was the moment I needed to decide if I could make this happen or not. I could and I would, but I needed her to know that it wasn't just sex, it was love. I kissed her lips. I kissed her neck. I kissed her hands and her shoulders, her collar bone and her breasts. Her hips bucked and I groaned. I was excited. I could do this. I wasn't going to fail. Bella loved me. Bella wanted me and I felt the same for her. Very carefully, I reached over to my table and opened the drawer as she watched me. It was like I could feel her eyes burning through me. I pulled out one of the condoms from the box I found in the bathroom. Carlisle was a progressive parent. In Chicago, he'd seen quite a lot during his time at an inner-city hospital and he was prone to go into lectures about STD's and the joys of childbirth at the dinner table. At least he did before Rose and Emmett got pregnant. I wondered how that happened since both Carlisle and Esme provided them the necessary tools to avoid pregnancy. Bella gave me a questioning look, as if asking why I, of all people, had condoms beside my bed. I bit the inside of my cheeks as I felt the outside flush and redden. "I-I-I am sssssseventeen, you kn-know." Despite the things I went through, and my reluctance to do much until now, I was still a teenager with all of the same hormones as other people. I still thought about sex. I'd brought the condoms in here when I set my goal of having sex with Bella. I tried to relax as I nervously put the condom on. I had never done this before and while it wasn't complicated or difficult, my hand shook. I probably should have practiced. I glanced down at Bella. Her eyes were on my face and I was thankful for that. I didn't want her to see how inexperienced I was any more than I wanted her eyes to fixate on the scars or my deformed parts. It was finally on and the music changed. The song was perfect. It was Jeff Buckley's Hallelujah. I questioned Bella with my eyes, making sure she wanted to do this. If she told me to, I would stop. If she told me to, I would put my clothes on right now and not think twice about it. But her smile that smile! was all I needed. With much concentration, I pushed into her. She let out a breath that swept over my face and ruffled the hair hanging on my forehead. When I was completely immersed in her, I took a moment to collect myself. As much difficulty as I'd had in the past with getting to the point where I could allow my release, right now it was difficult to hold it back. This was not how I wanted it to go. I focused on the song. It was a hymn of praise. It spoke of Biblical women. It could have been confusing to me, but it wasn't. I suddenly knew that it was not just a hymn of praise to the Lord. No, this song was a hymn of praise to the act I was engaging in right now with Bella. In praise of her body, of mine. It wasn't as much about God as it was about the connection between two spirits. My body moved in hers.

And I thrilled at the sensation. The song was about our connection. It was the connection of our bodies, the connection of our souls, our spirits, the product of which was not only an orgasm, but the birth of spirituality between two people. It didn't matter what I'd been raised to believe about my soul. Right now I knew it existed. I knew it because it was intertwined with hers. I didn't have to be my father's version of Christian. I could be devoted to the holy spirit of Bella. No, the holy creation born out of the holy union of Edward and Bella's spirits. I couldI wasSheWe were my religion of choice. I came. It was much, much sooner than I had wanted and anticipated. I was shivering. I looked in her eyes again. It was the first time I'd bothered to look at her the entire time. They shone with worry. My breathing was heavy. I didn't want her to worry. I wanted her to look at me and know that I was okay. I leaned down and kissed her deeply. When I pulled back, I asked with a voice that shook, "C-c-c-can w-w-we try that again?" Her hands in my hair and her beautiful smile told me yes. I withdrew from her and waited until her voice told me what her body had already said.

Chapter 58: Dirty Girl Edward I lay in her arms shivering, my breath shaking. My head was on the swell of her breast and her hands were delightfully in my hair. I was fine. I wasn't panicked. I felt good. I managed to last longer the third and final time. The second time I came too soon and she didn't make me feel bad at all. She was quite supportive and I was fairly certain that I'd given her an orgasm the third time. I didn't want to ask her though. She had shown me exactly what she was looking for and I did exactly as she instructed. I didn't want to draw any attention to my inexperience or any deficiencies I might have in the "bringing your girlfriend to orgasm" department. "I llllllove you," I said, hoping she would understand that I didn't just have sex with her; it was much more than that. "Mmmm" was her reply. I pulled away and looked at her, careful not to force her hands from my hair. They were soothing and I needed soothing. Her eyes were closed and her tongue was out, sweeping back and forth over her

bottom lip. I told myself that I wasn't going to be upset if she didn't say it back to me. That's what I told myself, but I really needed to hear it. She looked so beautiful, not self-conscious at all with her naked breasts and her hair splayed over the pillow. I felt like I needed to cover up before I was even naked, but not Bella. She wasn't saying anything. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about that. I sat back on my knees and pulled my discarded clothes onto my lap to cover myself. Her hands dropped from my hair and onto her stomach. She ran them from her belly button to the hollow of her neck by way of the valley between her breasts. It was a beautiful motion. She sat up, and situated herself into a cross-legged position. If I wanted to stare, I could've seen all of her soft places, but I wasn't interested in those parts right now. I was interested in what was happening in her mind; the emotional things. I wanted to know what she was thinking. Had she heard me when I said I loved her? Did she think I was bad at sex? Was she disappointed? Did I? "That was good," she said and rose up onto her knees, leaning into me. I took a deep breath just to smell her hair. I asked her silently to tell me she loved me. My hands were curled tightly and all of the good feelings I'd had just moments ago were gone. If she wasn't right here, her head so close to my face, I would've bitten my hands in frustration. Why wasn't she saying it? Couldn't she see, couldn't she feel, that I needed to hear it? Maybe she didn't love me. Oh, God, maybe she didn't. Maybe I was just another Stop. I had to stop thinking that way. Bella loved me; she just had issues with knowing when to say it. But couldn't she just She pulled away. "I have to eat. My sugar's low. I can feel it." She moved around and grabbed her shirt and bra. My mood sank further. My eyes closed when she got off the bed, and then I felt her lips against my cheek. "I'm so lucky. My

boyfriend is so sexy, andI fucking love him too." Things with Alice were good. Things with everyone were good. It felt nice to not be upset with anyone. Bella had to go home, but we ate dinner like we used to, and it was easy-going and natural. Emmett made jokes and everyone laughed. Jasper was charming and asked Carlisle all the questions I should've been able to. Esme looked incredibly pleased. I couldn't help but wear a smile. Bella loved me. I was so happy to be happy. The conversation turned to summer plans and then college. It was only a matter of time before they asked me if I'd heard anything back from the early applications I'd sent in. "N-not yet." In truth, I'd been getting the mail before anyone else could in order to sift through it for responses. Some of the colleges seemed happy to accept me without completing my final year of high school. My SAT scores stood alone, but coupled with my grades for the first two years, most of the universities were willing to grant me early admission. The letters all said the same thing basically. I had to get released from high school; meaning that I needed to get my diploma, and complete the interview process before they could make their final decision. I'd decided after receiving the first letter, that I was no longer interested in leaving Forks High early. The principal and guidance counselors had told me when I started the process that they would have no problem with pushing me through. I was in the advanced classes in almost all subjects already, and although Forks didn't have A.P. classes, there was a program I'd been in since the second semester of my freshman year. It allowed me to earn college credit for additional work, so instead of one paper on The Sun Also Rises, I'd written two; instead of memorizing the periodic table of elements in Chemistry, I also analyzed the metal levels in the local tap water. I could skip my senior year and go to college early, but I wasn't interested in leaving Bella. Or Alice. I feared what Alice might do if she found herself alone, and there was nothing that would take me away from Bella. The interview process scared me as well. I would use the "extra" year of high school to work on practicing answers to standard questions without stuttering. I felt like I was in a better place now to do the college interviews than when I'd sent in those applications. But I didn't want to tell them any of that. They'd want to see the letters and for me to explain why I wanted to stay when it seemed so clear that I was beyond high school academics. They would try to get me to see wanting to stay with my girlfriend shouldn't influence my decision, and if I had the opportunity to go to college early, I should take it. I didn't want to hear it. I was happy with my life right now. Bella loved me.

 "Damn it, Edward! You're on my team! Shoot at Jasper!" I looked at Emmett and then followed his pointed index finger back to the TV. Jasper and Rosalie laughed. "W-w-w-who's J-J-Jasper again?" Alice's voice was light. She twisted and then winced a little as the movement pulled at the healing gash on her stomache. She sat on the floor between Jasper's legs, one arm looped around his calf. "He's the one in red." "Oh." I turned my attention back to the TV and tried to make the guy I was controlling shoot the guy in red instead of the guy in green. I hated this game. Well, I hated most video games because they seemed to use a part of the brain I'd never developed, but this game was hard. Not only was it about killing, which didn't seem like fun, it was difficult to maneuver my character around. But I was trying because they wanted to play. Emmett had seemed so hopeful when he asked me. He, Rose, and Jasper would be leaving in a few months and so I felt it was my duty to be with them as much as I could stand before they left. I'd never been close to Emmett, but tried - he'd really tried - with me. He was a person who needed to know that people liked him. He needed that kind of validation. One of the saddest things to behold was Emmett when he was depressed. It never lasted for long and it usually only happened when he needed a prescription change, but when it did, he was a horrible mess. I didn't want him leaving for college thinking that I didn't care about him in some way. He wanted me on his team above Rosalie who he always picked first, and Jasper, who was really good at the game. How could I say no when he trusted me enough to be on his team? So I played stupid video games. I did my best to hang out with them more after school which meant Bella had to hang out with them too. I did this for two reasons. First, it was true that I wanted to spend time with them before they left in the fall, but also, now that Bella and I'd had sex, she was very affectionate, much more so than before. By affectionate, I didn't just mean hugs and kisses. She was very hands-on. I had thought she was like that before, but now it was on a whole other level. While I didn't think she expected sex every day, it did seem as though she was needier in a physical sense. It reminded me of when we first met. While I loved the attention, I didn't necessarily want that kind of attention all the time. Sex still wasn't a comfortable topic for me to think about or discuss, much less engage in as often as she seemed to want it. So hanging out with my family gave me a respite from her expectations.

I was nervous each time we did it. I did my best to push myself. My body would comply sometimes, but not others. Today was better than the first time, but not as good as the last. I wished for consistency. "I-I-I'll b-b-bei-it'll g-g-get b-better. I p-p-p-p" I hurried to pull on my shirt and tug on my underwear and pants. I was worried that I hadn't done well enough for her. I worried that it hadn't been fulfilling enough for her. I worried that I wasn't enough for her. "Edward?" she said softly. I stopped when I felt her hands in my hair. She pushed a lock off of my forehead. It was such a loving action and her voice was so sweet. I swallowed hard. "It was perfect." Smiling, I took her hand. "I lllllove you." She looked uncomfortable for a second and then smiled back at me. "I love you too." Her eyes were distant. Sex was complicated enought by itself, but it also complicated my relationship with Bella. I felt worried a lot and she gave me reason to worry. She seemed removed some times, like she was there, but her mind was somewhere else. A few days passed and I'd managed to keep her at bay. We made out only once and I gently refused to take it any further. As days went by, I could see her agitation grow. I didn't know if she was unhappy that we weren't having sex as often as she wanted, or if she was going through something else. I asked what was wrong, but she would always reply that it was nothing. Today was decent. She was moderately affectionate and not in a sexual way. We were flipping through college brochures. I'd convinced her that she should at least see if there were any that looked interesting. She seemed like she was interested in photography and had mentioned culinary arts once, but I thought it was just to appease me. We were listening to music and were having an enjoyable time. The iPod was on shuffle, so there was no telling which song would play next, but when the music changed, she stiffened. The transformation was instant, and I recognized it nearly as quickly. "W-w-what is it?" For a moment she couldn't speak, and all she could seem to do was shake. Her flesh was raised and the hair on her arms was standing up. She was shivering like she was freezing. I didn't know what was going on, but I wanted to comfort her. She was looking away from me. Her eyes seemed to be focused on some invisible spot in the corner of my room near the ceiling. I moved my hand to gently brush her arm, but she flinched.

It was more than a flinch really. It was more like a violent seizure. She gasped as her arms flew at me. I had enough time to react, and I was able to block my face from her hands as they ripped and clawed at the air. "Fucking stop!" Her voice. Her voice was wrong. It was terrified and brutal. I moved back and away from her. "B-B-Bella?" She blinked and then finally her eyes came into focus and she looked at me. She seemed not to recognize me at first, but then I could see the acknowledgement dawn. This did nothing to relieve the pain etched on her face or the tension in her body. "Turn this fucking song off!" I felt frozen even though I wanted to comply quickly. "Turn it off now!" I tried to climb over the bed to get to my iPod quicker, but she was in my way. My knee ended up pressing against her thigh and she jumped off the bed and roughly pulled the iPod from the system. The music stopped abruptly. She was clutching it tightly in her right hand and she looked like she didn't know what to do with it. Her eyes danced across my room, passing over everything but taking in nothing. Her arm shook while her body quaked. Her knuckles were white and finally she launched the little player at the bookshelf. Before I could even make it off the bed, she was at the door, both hands gripping the knob, trying desperately to open it. She seemed so lost in her panic. "I-i-it's llllllocked." Although she became eerily still, she wasn't over it. I watched as her shaking fingers moved to the lock and twisted it. With what seemed like false calm, she opened the door and then practically flew into the bathroom. I heard the door slam shut and the lock click. I heard her get sick. I heard her beat something solid with what had to be her fists. I heard her cry. I wanted to go to her. I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to help heal her.

But instead I quietly left my room and found Esme reading in Carlisle's office. My mind raced with things Esme needed to know, but I couldn't even find the strength to pretend that I'd be able to say them. "Bella," was all I said. She looked up and the gentle smile she'd prepared for greeting slipped away. I guessed my face told the rest of the story. I watched as Esme made her way to the bathroom and knocked. I watched and heard as she asked Bella if she could enter. I retreated to my room when I heard the door unlock after long minutes of Bella's painful sobbing. I found my iPod and plugged it in. I deleted that song. I wouldn't miss it. I never wanted to hear it again. I left my door unlocked and cracked open. I wanted her to know that she was welcome to come back in as soon as she could. I didn't want her to feel like I was closing her out. When she entered, she didn't look at me. She didn't look at anything other than the floor. Her face was wet and pale. Her hair was a mess. She moved to me on the bed, sitting on her knees as she pulled my hand from my mouth. "I'm okay," she whispered, but I had my doubts. She shifted and motioned for me to do the same until we were lying together, the covers pulled up and over our heads. Only a little light filtered through. The air was tight and stagnant. "I'm sorry." Her breath was minty. "I-I-I d-d-deleted it." She said nothing and the heavy air settled over us. I squinted to see her face. Her eyes were closed and she was biting down on her bottom lip. Little tears slipped from her pinched eyes. Her breathing was slow and deliberate. The sound of it shook just like her body. When she spoke, her voice was raspy and raw. "He brought friends," she whispered just barely loud enough for me to hear. I wanted to shut off my ears. I didn't want to hear this story.

She was gasping now, like she couldn't breathe. I wanted to throw off these covers and let her feel the fresh, cool air of my room, but I worried how she would react. She was the one who brought us under the covers. This was where she wanted to be. I tried to take her hands, but she pulled them back, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "There were six of them." Oh, God, please make her stop. I didn't want to know. My heart pounded. I felt barely present. The only thing that tied me down was the thought that she needed to say these things. I knew what it was like to have things buried deep within you. I knew what it was like when they slowly worked their way up, like weeds buried deep underground. But she was brave enough to see the weed. She wasn't frightened enough to ignore it. She wanted to pull it out. She wanted to let it show itself above ground so she could remove it entirely. "They came in my room." I kept telling myself not to listen. I kept telling myself that I could let her talk, but I didn't have to listen. But I heard and the sound of her voice filtered into my ears and the sounds formed words and the words held meaning. They nagged at me until I understood what they meant. I wanted her to be a liar. I wanted everything I knew about her to be a lie. I wanted the things she said to be the made-up stories of an emotionally-damaged girl. But I knew they weren't. "They turned music on really loud." It wasn't a far-off bet that the song we'd just been listening to was one of the songs that played that night. "I triedI promise I tried to get away, but they wereheavy on me." Her mouth and jaw kept moving as if she was still speaking, but no sound came out. "They eachthey allall of themI was" She was unable to string together enough words to build a sentence, but it was the gaps, the strangled silence, that told me the truth about what happened to her. Six men held her down. Six men took from her all of the things no one should have. Before I knew what was happening, she was pressed against me. Her hands were in my hair, her mouth on mine. She hitched a leg up over my hip and started to move her own hips in a way that caused my body to react.

I felt blood rush down to my groin and I pulled my mouth from hers. "B-Bella, nnnnnno." I couldn't understand how she could want something like this now. Why would she even want to be touched? "Please? I don't want toPlease justI don't want feel them, I want to feel you." Sex was still difficult enough for me the way it was. I wasn't sure I'd be able to do it if I was worried about her mental welfare. I couldn't focus if I was worried about her having a flashback, her mind back in Phoenix, reliving the moment when six men I couldn't think about it at all. I couldn't even get the adequate words to form in my head. She took my silence as acceptance, so she kissed me again, aggressively now. She pushed at me until I was on my back and she was on top of me. She wriggled and writhed and my eyes crossed. I put my hands on her hips and I tried to control her movements. She had to stop rolling them. Her rocking on top of me was too much. I couldn't have sex with her under these circumstances. I couldn't worry about her reliving the past while wewhile I I wouldn't be just another guy she had sex with in order to forget something painful. "Bella, ssssstop!" I said against her mouth as I brought our bodies up, the blanket falling down around us. Even sitting up, she didn't stop. I took her by the shoulders and pushed her back until she was no longer sitting on me. She looked at me with such hurt that I felt a little sick. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and shook her head. The shaking was back again. I sat still, not knowing what would happen next. Her hands moved to her hair and she pulled. She yanked so hard that when she pulled her hands away, strands of her long brown hair came with it. She scrubbed her eyes again and then moved off the bed. She went over to the bookcase and rested her forehead against a shelf. She gripped the same shelf. "I fucking hate this," she said. I wanted to make it better for her. I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to hold her, but she was so far away. I needed her to come back to me because I feared she would react poorly to me moving toward her. "C-c-can I hhhhhold you, Bella?" Her shoulders fell a little, and her neck bent a little more but then she turned around, letting go of the

bookshelf and moving to me in a shuffle. She sat down next to me and allowed me to hold her in my arms. Her head rested on my shoulder. Her body blended into mine. She was still for what seemed like a half an hour and then she was a flurry of motion again. Before I knew it, she was naked and so was I. I felt overwhelmed and confused as she sank down onto me. My chest fluttered as my lungs struggled to pull in air. All I could do was sit there and hold onto her hips, as her teeth pressed against the flesh covering my collar bone. Her movements were so frantic that I wondered if she could actually be enjoying herself. While I couldn't say that I was enjoying it, I didn't push her away because this seemed like something she needed. I tried to just mold myself to what she wanted. At least she was doing this with me and not someone else. At least I could let her know that she was safe and loved. At least I could take care of her. She sobbed when she had an orgasm. I held her tight and let her cry. After long minutes, she pulled away, her hands moving to my still-present erection. I moved back and shielded myself from her touch. "But you...you're stillyou haven't" I didn't want to have an orgasm. "I-i-it's o-o-okay." She shook her head and tried to grab me one more time. "Ssssstop!" Her eyes widened and she looked at me, shocked. Her body started to shake again. I brought her to me and held her until she pulled away. I watched her as she silently collected her clothing and redressed. "I-I-I lllllove you." She nodded, but didn't return the sentiment. My panic rose when she headed for the door. "Bella?" "I'm going home." Her voice was emotionless. It was dead. "I-I'll d-drive you." She shook her head and wouldn't look at me. I was worried. "Bella?" I leaned down and found my clothes, dressing as quickly as I could without moving too much since I thought it might scare her.

"I want to go home," she said, "I'm going to ask Dr. Hale to drive me." As her hand twisted on the knob, I felt desperate to know that she was all right, that we were all right. "I-I-I love you." She stopped and rested her head against the door jamb. She turned, came quickly kissed my cheek, then left. There were only a few weeks left of school everyone's excitement practically vibrated within the walls. Bella had taken to not speaking much around anyone other than me, and even then she shied away from topics that required a lot of words. It wasn't the first time she'd been distant, and I understood why she was now since she was going through something like remembering the night when six grown men raped her. She'd been at the house every night since, mainly to see Esme, but then she'd come to my room for a little while. She looked at my books and sat on my couch. She didn't sit on my bed with me and I turned the music off as soon as I heard her soft knocks. She would kiss me goodnight, but wouldn't let me drive her home. Esme usually did, or her father would pick her up. She was fine with me still picking her up for school in the morning. Most of the time she just looked out of the window with her bag in her lap, but today her leg was bouncing. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Then her fingers started going back and forth, up and down like she was playing the piano. "O-o-okay?" I asked when we were parked in our usual spot. I heard her heavy breath. "Yes." I didn't believe her. When she twisted to open the door, I stopped her with a light hand on her arm. "Bella." "What, Edward?" she asked, not turning around to look at me. Her voice was the same as it had been for days. I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I said, "I llllove you." She turned to me, her eyes searching mine for something. "Let's drive, okay? We can just go andI mean school's almost out and" As nice as it sounded, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn't just skip school. It wasn't something I usually did and even though it was the end of the year, the students were still expected to attend. "B-b-but there's a hhhhhhistory qu-qu-quiz." Hope seemed to drain from her eyes as she nodded. She popped open the door, grabbed her bag and waited for me to do the same. We walked in together like usual and I saw her just in passing after first period, but then she disappeared after that. She wasn't at lunch and Alice said she wasn't in Photography either. After long minutes of panic, I left

the cafeteria to look for her. I couldn't find her anywhere until I entered Mr. Banner's classroom, right before the bell rang. She said hello, but wouldn't look at me. Before I could ask her anything, Banner started class. I tried to hold her hand under the table, but she wouldn't. Fear gripped me. I wanted to see her eyes. If I could, I'd be able to figure out what was happening to her. The room darkened and a movie about bear cubs played. Bella's fingers rapped out an irregular rhythm on the black Formica table. I was really worried. Her legs bounced on the stool. When the movie ended, she was out of her seat so quickly that by the time the lights came back on, all I could see was the heel of her foot disappearing around the corner. I was preoccupied in my last period. Mrs. Peter knew something was off, so she left me alone and restocked the books herself. I left the library early to wait for her by the gym, but she wasn't there. I finally found her sitting by my car. "B-Bella?" I was nervous. She looked up at me, but didn't smile. Her eyes were dull and sort of sunken. It was easy to see that she had just come down off of something. I sat down next to her, my heart pounding. I thought she was past this. I wondered if I'd done something to cause her to get high. Before I could ask, she spoke. "Tyler had coke." My hands curled and I wanted to hit Tyler Crowley. "I ran into him. Literally." I thought about his hands on her as they collided. "He showed me what he had. I didn't ask, but he showed me and I wasn'tI didn't mean toI didn't want to buy any but I" I wanted to kill Tyler. "I did and I fuckingit's gone now and I'm sorry."

She leaned into me and I wrapped my arm around her. After a minute, I got her up and in the car. I took her to the diner and got her something to eat, and watched her take her blood sugar before I dropped her off at home. I didn't leave until Chief Swan pulled in. Then I found myself knocking on Tyler's front door. My hands were already balled into fists by the time someone came to answer it. A lady with a feather duster asked who I was here to see. "Tyler," was all I could say without stuttering. My heart thumped as she told me to wait there. She closed the door halfway, but I could hear her call him. I heard the lady say, "It's one of your strange friends. Your mother expects you at the table in ten minutes, young man." When the door opened again, Tyler was there. "What do you want?" My fists and jaw tightened. I hated him. I took a step back, letting him know I wanted him to come outside. He obliged with his arms folded over his chest. "You here because of Bella?" At least I didn't have to waste my time speaking. I just looked at him through narrowed eyes and he continued. "Look, she bought that shit from me. It's not my fault she likes it." I felt myself shake as the anger bubbled inside of me. "Go ahead and hit me, Cullen. You can break my jaw like you did to Newton, but my dad'll own your whole fucking family." My chest rose and fell rapidly. "Maybe you should take better care of your girlfriend so she doesn't come to me to give her all the highs you apparently can't provide for her. And don't act like she's an innocent little kitten. I know all about Bella fucking Swan. She's a dirty" His words were cut off by my hand at his throat. I had him back against his door. His head smacked against it with a thud. He was right. If I hit him, his father would force Chief Swan to do something about it. So I choked him instead. I stared him in the eyes as I did it. Tyler pushed at me, but I stayed where I was. I could kill him. I could leave him on the front porch of his house for his dad to find. It would be on all the Seattle news channels. Bella's father would arrest me. Carlisle would hire a great lawyer. I would stay silent in court. The lawyer would bring out my tragic past and the jury would find me not guilty by reason of insanity. I pressed my forearm against his neck and then shoved my body even harder into his. His eyes began

to bug out of his head. It was incredibly satisfying. "T-tell your fffather and I'll k-kkkkill you." I shocked myself with that one. I didn't know where it came from, but once it was out, I knew it was the truth. He nodded as I backed away. "And ssssstay away from Bella." "I d-d-don't understand. She's b-been off all those t-th-things fffffor a llllong time. W-w-w-wwwhy now?" It was only a half-truth question. I understood why she would have a relapse after remembering what she did. I should've expected it, but if she truly hadn't meant to buy coke, why did she? Even if what she said was true, and Tyler had showed it to her, why would she fall back into all of it? "Because addicts use, Edward. It's their nature. No one but the addict can change that. The responsibility doesn't fall on you." Dr. Eleazar's comment upset me. I hadn't said anything about feeling responsible, even though I did. His response was presumptuous and it made me angry. It must have shown on my face. "You're going to deny that you feel your girlfriend's sobriety rides on your shoulders?" I huffed. "You didn't turn her into an addict and you have no control over whether or not she uses." "W-w-w-well, w-w-w-what am I supposed to do?" He sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Support her when she needs support, and help her see when she needs help." I fumed for a few more minutes before letting it go and looking up at him in hopes that he could help me with all of my emotions. "Ssssshe j-j-just r-r-r-remembered sssshe w-w-w-was" I took a deep breath. It was tiring to say this many words, " r-r-r-r-raped by sssssix men." Dr. Eleazar let out a sad sigh. "Well, if anything would cause a relapse, I think that would do it. Tell me, have you had sex with her? I swallowed hard, but nodded. I wondered why he would ask me that now and so bluntly. There was no pretending that we were speaking about music. It didn't take long to make the connection. "D-d-do you think that hhhhhhas sssssomething t-to d-do w-w-w-with the m-m-m-memory?" "It would be hard to say. Do you think that?" "W-w-w-we were llllllistening to m-m-music and b-b-besides, ssssshe's had ssssex with o-o-o-other p-p-p-p" "While she was sober?" I looked down at my lap. My fingernails were digging into the meat of my hands. "I-I-I d-d-d-d.I-I-I'm r-r-r-r-responsible fffffor that?"

"No. The men who raped her are responsible for that." Bella accompanied my family to Seattle. She was the only reason I agreed to go. Everyone planned on shopping and Alice invited her. She said yes, so of course I went too. Since the day she got high, she was much better. She smiled and her affection was appropriate and loving. She was still subdued, but it was better than before. We all split up when we got there. I clutched her hand as if she could protect me from all of the people. Bella and I went to a bookstore, but it was a chain bookstore. It didn't have the same feel as the one in Olympia and Bella was nowhere near as happy as she had been that day last fall. We wandered around looking at a few books here, and a few books there. Finally Bella pulled a couple from a shelf and moved to the attached coffee shop. I got us coffee while she sat down and flipped through the books as if she didn't care about them. When I came back, I found her with her legs pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around them. I set our coffees down and just watched her. "How could they do that?" Her voice was troubled and I knew immediately who "they" were. "I d-d-d-don't kn-know." "I mean, I was just a little girl. How could they do that?" I wished I had the answers for her. "I d-don't know." "They shouldn't have done that." "Nnnno, they sssshouldn't have." "Normal people don't do that." "No." "Sometimes I wonderI wonder who I'd be if" She turned her face away from me. "I could've given youI could've" I knew what she was trying to say and I appreciated the sentiment, but I didn't want her to fixate on something like that. She couldn't help what happened to her and there was nothing that could change it now. "B-but mmmmaybe w-w-we wwwould've never mmmet. Mmmaybe you'd sssstill be in Phoenix." Bella brought her hands to her hair and she pulled. When she looked back up, she was crying. "The fucking world's so goddamn big and I'm so fucking small." I scooted my chair over to her. It made a loud scraping noise that I was sure drew attention, but I didn't care.

I took her hands out of her hair and held them. "I used t-to hhhhide under t-t-tables. I p-p-pretended n-n-n-no one c-could sssee me." She didn't say anything, but she was still crying. I knew it would draw even more attention to us, but again, I didn't care. I pushed my chair back and sat down under the table. I probably should've been freaked out because under the table was where people's feet went and shoes were dirty, but Bella was crying and I needed to do something. When I was settled on the floor, I tugged on her hands until she was down there with me. She buried her face in her arms, which were resting on her knees. She'd pulled them tight against her chest and was practically just a little ball. I moved so that each of my legs was on either side of her and rested my chin on her shoulder. "Now you won't get trampled, n-no matter hhhhow big the world is," I whispered. After a while, she sniffed and wiped her eyes. "They shouldn't have done that to me," she said again. Just like before, I answered, "N-no, they shouldn't have." We sat like that for a while until she said, "Everyone's probably looking at us." They might have been, but that was what was nice about hiding under tables. No one could see us. We were safe. "N-no. They're all d-drinking coffee." She shook her head, wiping her eyes once more. "No, I'm pretty sure we're freaking them out. Two fucking weirdos under the table." I smiled. Her voice was lighter; not much, but enough. "I'm not a wwweirdo and neither are you. We just p-p-prefer to take our coffees under the table." "You barely stuttered," she said as I reached my hand onto the table to get our coffees. God, I loved her smile! I handed her cup to her. "It's easier when I wwwwwhisper." By the time we finished our coffees, it was time to meet back up with the others. We were all supposed to have lunch together. I climbed out first and then helped Bella up. She was right, of course, the people around us were staring, but I did my best to ignore them. I did it for two reasons: One, Bella didn't need to feel any other negative emotion right now, and two, if I thought about all the people looking at us and what they thought of us, I would probably have an attack. I needed to be the strong one right now. Everyone had already decided what they wanted to eat, but once we were inside the restaurant, I realized that the choice wouldn't be good for Bella. They had chosen Thai food, which was not only heavy on the white rice, but also probably too spicy for her tongue. "Bella c-c-can't eat hhhhere," I said. Although everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at me, it was Rose who responded. "Why? Mom, Jas, and I always come here."

I looked at Bella. She didn't look happy that I brought it up and I worried that I was doing the wrong thing. Her hand tightened on mine and she pressed close to me, almost as if she was hugging my arm. Would she want me to mention her tongue? Was that something I was allowed to bring up? My inability to answer caused Bella to say. "It's okay. This looks good." It wasn't until after we were being led to a table she quietly told me, "It'll be fine. I'm sure they can make something that's not spicy." I stopped and looked into her eyes. "B-but you ssssshould be c-c-comfortable w-with w-what we eat." She sighed and then shook her head. "It's not always about me, Edward. Your family wants to eat here. I can make the best of it. Don't worry." We sat there quietly as my family went on with their lives and their dinners. Emmett and Jasper had a contest about who could handle the most heat. They both ordered their food at six stars and felt the need to get the spice tray, adding dried chili flakes and the chili sauce to up the ante at regular intervals. Emmett made a comment when Bella ordered hers without spice. I wanted to punch him. When her meal arrived, she pushed all the rice aside. Both Jasper and Emmett would beg for her cold rice later when their tongues were on fire. I wondered what Bella was thinking. I wondered if it hurt her feelings to see them intentionally trying to burn their mouths when her mother had burnt hers purely for fun. She didn't eat much. I didn't know if it was because of her tongue or all of the emotions she was experiencing. It was Sunday and Bella was acting strangely as I picked her up from work. She was alternating between excessive closeness and extreme withdrawal. Her eyes were sober, so I wasn't worried about what she was on, but it was so clear that she was having issues regulating her emotions. It was raining, so we decided we'd just hang out after her shift. I took her to the diner for a late lunch and she practically had sex with me in the booth as we waited for our food. She was all over me, moving and wriggling, her hands moving up under my t-shirt. When I didn't respond the way she wanted me to, she moved as far away as she possibly could. She was huddled, with her legs up to her chest so not even our feet could touch. My chest was tight since picking her up, my mind racing with everything that might have been wrong. I wasn't prepared to handle Bella in this state and it was taking every ounce of energy I had not to panic about it. I felt like I should've just taken her home. I felt like that was the kind of distance we needed. I couldn't figure out what she was going through.

After dinner, she was all over me in the car. I had to tell her to stop because I couldn't drive if she was distracting me. Again, she pulled away and huddled herself as far away as possible, pressing against her door. I was incapable of handling the situation, but I just kept telling myself that Bella needed me. Whatever she was going through, she needed my help and I couldn't send her on her way just because I felt a little overwhelmed. Especially since she was always there for me when I had my panic attacks. When we got to my room, my plan was to keep things quiet. I just wanted to listen to music and perhaps simply lay together. A nap might've helped her because she looked as though she hadn't been sleeping. When the door was closed and locked, she stood there, nervously biting her bottom lip. "I love you, Edward." I smiled. "I llll-llllove you, Bella." Then out of nowhere, she was acting aggressively again. She pressed herself to me, pushing me back to the wall. I was breathing hard, unsure exactly where this was going or how I felt about it. She smiled up at me and I continued to stand there frozen against the wall. Her lips were at my neck as her hands moved all over my body, moving up under my shirt and pawing at my chest before moving to my back. All I could see was the top of her head as I licked my lips. My body was responding to her, even though I couldn't move and my mind wasn't working. Her hands moved to my waist, quickly unbuttoning my jeans and tugging them down my hips. Finally, some sound escaped my throat, although it didn't resemble a word. Before I could even collect my thoughts, Bella was on her knees before me, her hands pulling at the elastic of my boxer briefs. I no longer had to wonder where this was going. A crazy mix of emotions and thoughts jumbled inside of me as Bella, my Bella, wrapped her fingers around my extremely hard penis. As the soft heat of her mouth wrapped around the head, the seventeen-year-old in me wanted her to continue, but at the same time I desperately needed her to stop. My mind, muscles and voice wouldn't cooperate and as my eyes closed, I was transported back in time to a place I didn't want to be. The only word my mind could muster was Joseph. The only image I could see was being asked to do one of the filthiest things I could ever think of doing. I wanted to choke, I wanted to vomit, I wanted scream. But instead, my hands went to Bella's shoulders and her movements quickened. I opened my eyes and, tried to push away the thoughts of the past, but I couldn't. The visual of Bella before me mingled with memories of the past and my head swirled. I could feel the tears well in my eyes. My fingers tightened on her shoulders and had I been able to think rationally, I would have been worried that I was bruising her. I pushed at her, but she was relentless. I slammed my head back against the wall, hoping that the pain would be enough to jump-start my mind and voice. Finally, I was able to choke out, "St-st-stop." But she didn't hear me. I pushed against her again. "B-B-Bella, st-st-stop!"

With one last push, I finally got her to release me, but not before her teeth scraped against my shaft. I hissed, but was happy for the pain if it meant that she wasn't doing that to me anymore. I swallowed hard and finally looked down at her. She sat back on her heels, her eyes wide as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. The look in her eyes leveled me. She was confused and angry and...hurt. "What the fuck, Edward?" Bending down, I pulled my underwear and pants back up as my eyes continued to flood with tears and shame. "I-I-I d-d-don't wwwwwant you to d-d-do th-that." "What?" Her expression turned indignant. "It's d-d-dirty, B-Bella." She froze. She was still for a few seconds and then licked her lips, rocking back on her heels before standing up. "Dirty? It's dirty? What the fuck's dirty about it, Edward?" She spit my name. She was angry. Her eyes flashed hot at me and once again I felt powerless. I wouldn't be able to explain it to her. "It's dirty?" she asked again. "So what? I'm dirty for doing it? Jesus, you could just say thank you like other fucking guys. But no, you think it's fucking dirty and I'm just a dirty fucking whore for wanting to do it to you, right?" "N-n-no," I practically begged, but I couldn't get anything else out even if my mind and body would let me. I wanted to tell her why I thought it was dirty. I wanted to tell her that I'd never think that way about her, but what came out of my mouth was nothing short of devastating. "Prostitutes and immoral women are a deadly trap. They wait for you like robbers and cause many men to be unfaithful." The words were out before I even knew what happened. The rest of the chapter flooded my brain, but I managed to choke it back before it spilled from me. Bella clenched her teeth as her hands tightened into balls and before I could even recognize her rage, she was hitting me. Her fists were raining blows down on me that hurt and all I could think to do was to cower down and hold my hands over my head, protecting myself. Then I remembered that I was bigger than she was. I didn't want to hurt her, but I needed her to stop hitting me. I stood up straight and took hold of her wrists and pushed her back into the wall next to my desk with my body. I held her hands next to her head. My grip tightened. She practically snarled. Her foot stomped on mine and instinctively, I pulled her toward me, only to push her back quickly. The back of her head hit the wall and the accompanying thud startled me. Her knee rammed into my thigh and my hands relaxed. She slipped out of my hold, pushed at my chest, and then her hands curled again and she was beating my chest. I pushed her back again until my body wedged her against the wall. I wanted her to know how stupid she was being. I was mad at her. I hated her for even wanting to do that. I was angry at her constant pushing and her

constant need! Bella needed to be controlled. She was never controlled. She was always wild, always speeding toward a curve and she constantly pulled people along with her. I wanted to control her. I wanted to put my hand over her mouth so she wouldn't be able to talk anymore. I wanted toIf I could just "Get the fuck off of me." Her voice was quiet, but firm. I hadn't secured her hands and one moved up to my hair. For a moment I hoped that it would be a soothing touch because this situation was too much and I needed her to stop being mean and love me. Instead she yanked at my hair as her other hand moved to my cheek. She pushed at me, making my neck twist. She was successful and I stumbled backwards. The foot of distance between us humbled me and as the anger fled, I was suddenly ashamed. "B-B-B-Bella, I-I-I" She took a step forward with fire in her eyes and hit me. Her hand was closed, but it wasn't really a punch. "B-B-B-Bella," she said, impersonating my stutter, disgust and contempt dripping from her voice. I wanted to speak. I wanted to hold her. I wanted to take it all back. "You're just like everyone else! I'm dirty? I fucking told you that. I told you when I met you that I wasn't good enough." She hit me again. "B-B-B-Bella, nnnnot y-y-you" Why couldn't she understand that I hadn't called her dirty? Why couldn't she realize that it was what she had been doing that was dirty? I blindly reached for her hands to still them, but missed. "I told you I was dirty." Another closed hand to my jaw and then another hit my neck. "Well, fuck you. I should've believed everyone that first day when they said you were a fucking freak and a retard!" Again, I grabbed her wrists and held tightly. They were small in my hands and if I wasn't careful, I could break them. She kicked my shin and stomped on my foot again. I reacted by pressing her back against the door. She kept talking, saying things that my mind refused to register, but I knew it was all hateful. With the weight of my body, I held her against the door, one of her arms wedged between our bodies as I brought my hand up to cover her mouth. I just wanted her to stop. She had to stop saying hurtful, hateful things.

Bella's eyes were wide and tears trailed down her cheeks. Suddenly I remembered what she had told me. That the man who had raped her covered her mouth so she couldn't yell. For a second I merely stared at my hand, but then the connection was made and I let her go, propelling myself backward. I shouldn't have done that. I was no better than he was. I couldn't look at her. I didn't want to see the hate on her face. I knew she didn't mean what she said. She was hurt and angry. She didn't understand that I hadn't said anything bad about her. I stepped back. She won. I wouldn't fight anymore. I "B-B-B-B-Bella" My back hit the wall and she advanced. "Don't say my name anymore. You sound fucking stupid." My legs felt weak. My knees buckled. Part of me wanted to shout back at her that I should've listened when I heard countless guys at school call her a whore and a slut, but my mouth wouldn't work. I would've just ended up sounding and feeling stupid. But the other part of me hated that I even had those thoughts. I loved Bella. Bella loved me. She was just upset because she thought I said something I didn't. I still couldn't look at her, so I was powerless to stop her when I heard the door open and slam shut. I couldn't help the tears then. I'd messed up again. I'd messed up badly. And now she was angry. And I couldn't blame her. I was a retard and I deserved her leaving. How did I manage to get into this position again? My chest seized up and I gasped for air as my heart pounded in my chest. My mind couldn't focus on any one thing. I tried just to think of one piece of music, one passage from a book, one poem, one line of a song, but I couldn't. I couldn't even think of a comforting piece of Scripture. Instead my mind raced with thoughts of Bella, thoughts of Joseph, thoughts of not being able to breathe, of not being able to be normal, of never being able to be what Bella wanted or needed. I had no idea how long I was gasping for breath and, curled in a ball and hadn't even realized that I'd been making any kind of sound beyond wheezing, until a knock startled me even more. Alice's voice drifted through the haze. "Edward? Edward, are you okay?" If possible, my breathing became even quicker and I struggled to sit up, my back to the wall. I put my head between my knees and hoping that I would just black out for a while. But I didn't. And I heard the handle of the door jiggle and I couldn't help the strangled cry that escaped me as my mind flashed back to a time when I was entirely too young and entirely too much at the mercy of Joseph's threats that he would die if I didn't help him. I wanted to launch myself at the door, to block it and make it so that no one could come into my room, but my body remained frozen. I felt hands on my head and through muffled ears, I could hear Alice's voice, but couldn't focus on what she was saying. I shook from her touch and as much as I knew that Alice was safe, I wanted to shove her away. I wanted her hands to be off of me and I wanted... Her hands were gone and I could no longer feel her, but that didn't help slow my heart or my breathing. I tried to look up, to verify that I was alone again, but my body wouldn't comply. Again my thoughts raced: Bella, Joseph, messed up Edward Cullen.

The hands were back and now there were other voices. In the back of my mind, I knew who they belonged to, but the only thing that held any meaning for me was that one of them was male. The connection was made. I knew that I was in my room; my room, the one and only place that no one else was supposed to be unless I wanted them to and now I knew that there was another male inside my room with me. Even hearing two distinct female voices meant nothing to me. My body shook uncontrollably as I feebly attempted to push and kick the hands away. When that did nothing, I tightened my body even further in hopes that there would be nothing left for the hands to touch. Slowly, my body began to feel heavy and my muscles grew weak as my mind and thoughts slowed. Breathing became easier and after a while, my heart slowed, beginning to regulate itself again. The darkness surrounding me began to lighten. Carefully, I rolled myself up, sitting pressed against the wall, my knees still clutched against my chest. Alice, Esme and Carlisle sat before me and I couldn't muster enough energy to feel upset that they were in my room. Languidly, my eyes moved to Carlisle's hand where he still gripped a syringe. Dr. Cullen and his sedatives to the rescue again. I was thankful. As my breathing continued to slow, I felt the tears stop and I wiped away the wetness that still lingered. The great thing about Carlisle's sedatives was that they calmed me down quickly to the point where I no longer had a million thoughts rushing through me. Unfortunately, they calmed me down a little too much, to where I was forced to focus on things I didn't want to. And they made me much more prone to falling victim to Esme's questions. "What happened?" I blinked, shaking my head. "N-n-n-nothing," I lied. There was no need to tell them what had happened. Not only was it intensely personal, but none of them would understand it. I didn't want them to think badly of Bella. It wasn't her fault that I was like this. It wasn't her fault that I reacted this way. It wasn't her fault that I didn't want her mouth "Edward." I looked at Carlisle and hated the expression he wore as he said my name. I hated that I hated that he was in my room. I hated that no matter who he was, he would never be able to be close to me because I would never let that happen. Although I allowed him to touch me to examine me from time to time, and every once in a while hold my head still while he looked into my eyes, I would never allow him to hug me. I would never allow him to be a father, be a dad, or even a friend who had those rights. "C-c-can y-y-you j-just g-g-go awaaaay?" I wasn't trying to be harsh. I just wanted all of them out of my room. "Edward, I don't think..." I had no other option but to raise my voice. "G-g-get o-out!" It seemed to startle them and in the same tone and volume, I begged. "P-pleeeease?" Carlisle looked at me for a moment more, sadness transparent on his face, before standing up and leaving the room. Esme spoke in her maternal voice with just a hint of professional shrink. "Edward, you need to talk about what just happened." "N-nothing ha-ha-happened. I-I j-juuuuust..." I stopped talking as she placed a hand on my cheek. I

flinched, hitting my head against the wall again. "G-g-g-g-get o-o-out!" Finally she stood up and turned to leave. Alice followed her until I grabbed her wrist and kept her on the floor with me. Once Esme had left the room, I let go of Alice's wrist and nodded to the door. She understood and locked it, and then came back and ran a hand through my hair as she sat next to me. "Edward," she whispered, "are you okay?" I wished she'd stop saying my name. I wished everyone would just stop. Taking in a deep breath, I shook my head. Just because I had sedatives in me didn't mean that I was okay. It was just a mask. I leaned into her until my head rested in her lap. One of her hands ran through my hair, while the other rested on my shoulder. "Bella left pretty quickly." I let out a shaky breath and squeezed my eyes tight. I didn't want to talk about Bella. I had completely messed everything up with her. She didn't deserve, nor would she want, someone like me. I couldn't even be normal. She was so angry at me when she left. I couldn't even let herI wasn't a normal boy who could enjoy normal things. I'd made her feel bad for doing something most boys would've begged for. "I'm sorry, Edward. I had to go get Carlisle. You looked..." She shrugged. "I didn't know Esme was even here." I sighed deeply again. "Sorry, I'll be quiet now," she said. I wanted Bella. I worried about where she was and what she was feeling. I wanted her to come back to me. I wanted us to be able to talk about what happened. I would apologize for grabbing and pushing her and she would tell me she was sorry for hitting me. She would feel bad for saying mean things and I would explain why I thought what she did was dirty and nasty. When she returned to me, I would tell her, and she would understand and she would hug me and put her hands in my hair. And she would tell me that she loved me and we would promise never to hurt each other like that again. Bella would come back, but I worried about what she would do in the meantime.

Chapter 59: Hurt Me Bella I wandered around Forks for hours crying. I had no clue what had just happened except that I'd hit Edward. I'd hit him and I'd said some fucking horrible things to him.

My stomach clenched as I heard myself say those things again in my mind. I felt sickened by the memory of his hurt expression. I wanted to scream as I thought about him gripping my wrists. After hours of thinking and raging, I realized that I should've asked before I tried going down on him. I'd just wanted to take that next step. Having sex with him was great, and I wanted to show him how sexy he was and how I didn't care about scars, but he had every right to call me dirty. I wanted to drown out all the horrible things in my head. I hated what I had done. I hated what happened. I'd been feeling so strange since hearing that song. I felt so fucking sick and powerless. I felt like a fucking little girl again. I knew there things that I didn't quite remember. Dr. Hale called them blocks. They were things that I knew were there, but I that I had literally blocked out from my mind. Something was wrong, I just didn't know what. When that song played, it was instant. It was like the memory was poured over me, drenching me in the disgust, the shame, the powerlessness, the fear, the pain, and the absolute horror of that night. And once I remembered, what the fuck was I supposed to do with it? Nothing. There was nothing to be done. Now I just had to live with it. Unlike before when I could go on knowing something had happened, now I knew exactly what the fuck happened. It made me sick. No matter how much time went by, I'd still be a fucking dirty girl. Be my dirty girl. Even Edward said it. He said I was dirty. He fucking said it and then he tried to say that he didn't! But I heard him. He said I was dirty. Motherfucker! Motherfucking Bronze Cullen with his stupid fucking hair and his "I lll-llllove you, Bella!" Fucking bullshit. It was all bullshit. This whole time had been nothing but bullshit. He thought I was dirty. Dirty girl. And he wasn't wrong. I was dirty. I shouldn't have hit him. Mmmm, Bella, you're so fucking dirty. But I couldn't go back there.

No. I wasn't good for Edward. Even if we got past this, there would be another time. No matter how hard we tried, we'd never be right for each other. I'd always be dirty. He'd always be clean. I would be the predator, and he'd be the prey. Every time. Even though I felt bad and I knew it wasn't his fault, I grew angry again, but for another reason. Edward made me love him. He made me want something different. He made me think I deserved something different. Something better. He made me feel all this shit. His presence, his kindness, his words of love, they all promised me something I could never have. I'd been stupid enough to believe it. How could I have believed that I could ever deserve something like that from someone like him? It was getting really late. The sun hadn't set yet, but I was getting tired of roaming around stupid little Forks. I walked back to the Thriftway. Riley was putting Velveeta on the shelf. "Back for more, Swan?" he asked without even looking in my direction. "I thought only the lifers couldn't get enough of this p" His stopped when he finally looked at me. "Christ, Bella." "I need a ride." My body shook as I wrapped my arms around my belly. "Should I call your boyfriend? You look " I fucking knew how I looked. "I don't fucking have a boyfriend. I need a ride from you." His eyes widened. He could tell from the sound of my voice something was up. "All right. I'm off in like fifteen, can you chill 'til then?" I nodded and then just followed him around the store as he put away the stock cart and clocked out. As I hopped into the cab of his truck I asked, "You don't happen to have a joint, do you?" before I even really thought about it. Riley shot me a look, half-concern, half-"of-course-I've-got-a-joint," and reached underneath his seat. He handed me a red metal toolbox and I opened the creaking lid. Before I could feel bad about it, I pulled out the bag and rolling papers and rolled a fat one while he drove. I didn't bother pretending like I was going to let him toke first. I fired it up and took two big pulls before passing it to him. Thank the fucking Flying Spaghetti Monster for motherfucking weed. I savored that shit, but my lungs weren't used to the smoke, so I coughed and sputtered like a little fucking pot virgin. But I hit it again. And again. And again. One hit probably would have done it, but now I was fucking stoned.

"I fucking love pot." Riley didn't say anything, but he rolled down his window and flicked the roach from the cab when he was done. "Thanks." "So are you going to tell me where I'm driving you?" I laughed because I'd totally forgotten that I needed a ride to somewhere specific. After I finished acting like a stupid, giggling girl, I gave him directions. It didn't take very long to get there. Riley dropped me off and I knocked loudly on the door, which was in some serious need of paint. Jake's dad opened the door, a can of beer in his lap. With minimal discussion, I was invited into the house and found Jacob watching TV in his room. He looked up in surprise and then went back to watching TV. "Trouble in paradise?" I didn't quite know why I came here. Did I want to buy some pot or did I want to fuck him? He didn't even want to be my friend because Edward was my boyfriend. A little of my high went away when I thought of Edward and the term "boyfriend." I walked over to him without so much as saying "hello" and crawled up onto his bed as if it was something familiar. He stiffened and sat up. I was on my knees and I sort of just leaned in close to him. I wasn't sure what I was doing or what I needed. I didn't need a motherfucking hug or anything, but Jacob was always warm. I wanted to be warm because I felt like I was frozen. He smelled nice. Different than Edwa Different. Jacob smelled spicy, like dark rum with hints of coconut. Somehow within a matter of seconds, I went from smelling him to sucking on his neck and from there I went to sucking on other parts of him. There was a momentary feeling of victory when my mouth closed around his dick. Then I just felt dead. I didn't want to feel dead. I wanted to feel something. So I went fast, bringing him close, but not allowing him to finish. He said something, but who the fuck cared what it was. His mouth, his words, his thoughts were of no consequence to me right now. Once I was satisfied that I'd given good head, I quickly removed my jeans and sat down on him. I moved hard and fast and loved that his arms could barely contain me. He made noises, more than I remembered him ever making before.

I drove myself down on him until I came and then he rolled us over. He was kissing me, his hands in my hair and then trailing down my shoulders and arms. His lips moved over my collarbone. It was wrong. It was all fucking wrong. He was being He was being sweet and I hated it. I pushed him away and maneuvered myself until I was standing up with the upper part of my body lying on the bed. His hands gripped my hips gently and he thrust into me like I was delicate. It wasn't what I wanted. I tried to push back harder into him, but he was pretty much controlling the depth and pace of his thrusts. Fuck. I got away and went to his desk, sitting on it and spreading my legs wide, hoping he'd figure out that I wanted him to fuck me hard. He didn't. "Fucking Christ!" I grabbed his waist and tried to pull him into me with more force. "Do it harder, Jake!" I kept trying and he kept fucking me like he was my fucking boyfriend and he loved me. But I didn't have a goddamn boyfriend and no one loved me. I scratched him with my short nails and tried to provoke him, but he just pulled away completely. Then I balled my fists and hit him. "Can't you just fuck me? Just fuck me!" I kept hitting him until he took my wrists. His face was calm, almost like he didn't care. It infuriated me. "You want me to fuck you like a whore, Bella, and I'm not down for that." My energy was renewed and I tried to hit him again, but he was strong. He fucking kissed the top of my head. "Let go." His fingers loosened and I pushed him away and pulled on my pants. Without looking at him, I said, "I want an eighth." "I'm out." Stupid, fucking liar. "Bullshit. I want an eighth." Sighing, Jacob pulled up his pants and resumed his position on his bed, looking bored, and grabbed the remote. I wondered how many times he practiced his "stay cool" tactics before this. "I'm out, but even if I was on, I wouldn't sell to you."

"I have money and I don't have a fucking boyfriend anymore so you can suck it up and be my friend again, and if you're going to withhold from me just because I don't fucking love you then-" "Your dad will send my ass to prison, Bella." That stopped me cold. "Yeah. Complete with orange jumpsuit, white socks and black sandals. Thanks for noticing that I don't fucking sell to anyone anymore, friend. Thanks for noticing how fucking bare the refrigerator is or how my fucking car won't run because I don't have any money to fix it because Billy fucking drank my last paycheck." I think my mouth must have dropped open because he said, "Yeah, I said 'paycheck.' Fucking McDonald's and shit. 'Cause eight bucks an hour is better than an anal raping in the shower." I flinched and then backed toward the door. "So great of you to stop by, Bella. I'll see you in a few months, you know, the next time you decide you give a shit about me or you need a fuck." Now my high was completely gone and I was a little pissed about it. Like it was my fault his life was shit? Welcome to the motherfucking world, asshole. I didn't need his pot, I didn't need his dick, and I sure as fuck didn't need his guilt. Without saying anything else, I turned, left his house and went to the bus stop. Tyler's mom let me in, but Tyler stood at the door to his room, his arms crossed. "What happened to your neck?" It was bruised. Purple, yellow, and red all mixed together to form a nasty brown. "Your fucking boyfriend happened," he replied, his voice low, presumably to keep Mommy Crowley from hearing. I licked my lips, looked away, and sighed. "He's not my boyfriend." "Does he know that?" He should. I fucking hit him and shit. I would think once fists connect with flesh, that whole "boyfriend/girlfriend" shit was broken. I shrugged. Tyler's arms relaxed and dropped to his side. He moved back and let me into his room. I briefly fantasized about fucking him. Tyler wouldn't pretend to love me. It'd just be his cock and my pussy. No hearts and flowers. No kisses on the top of my head. No stuttered "I love yous." But I didn't fuck him. I gave him money and left. The minute I got home, Charlie accosted me. "Your friend Alice calleduhabout six times. She sounded upset." I wondered if she was upset because I hurt Edward or because she was concerned for me as her "friend." Who was I kidding? Of course she was upset because I hurt poor Bronze Cullen.

I said nothing as I went to the kitchen, and Charlie followed like a puppy. "She said you and Edward had a fight." I grabbed the leftover spaghetti and threw it in the microwave. "Lauren and Tom are deliriously happy as mutual ass-licking friends, Jessica's pining over Prick Newton and Angela and Ben plan to fuck each other at Prom. Do you want to hear more gossip from Forks High or do you want to be a grown up now?" "Whoa, I didn't" His hands were held up in a mock surrender, but my mind turned the sound of his voice way down. I grabbed a fork and popped the microwave open, not caring that the spaghetti was still cold or that it was absolutely the wrong food choice for me. I ate as much as I could without throwing up, washing it down with a few gulps of water. I was climbing the stairs to my room when Charlie asked, "Bella, are you even listening?" I stopped on the third step and looked down at him. "No, I'm not, so feel free to shut the fuck up." He looked bewildered. He looked like he was a fucking blade of grass, trampled by an elephant, all smashed and wrinkled. It felt good to see someone who fucking felt like I did. I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to tell him how stupid he was. I wanted to throw his disappointment in his face. Of course he was disappointed; he'd put his faith, trust and hope in me. I was no better than when I first got here last fall. Fucking idiot. Relief flooded me when I was finally in my room. No pot in Charlie's house. To be honest, though, I was far, far beyond weed now, so I snorted cocaine on my desk as I deleted the instant messaging system and blocked ECullen123 from my e-mail. I was so fucking high. I'd forgotten how much I really loved cocaine. I'd only had a little the other day and I'd been so worried about Edward finding out and hating me that the buzz was muted. Charlie went to sleep and I sat on my bed, bouncing with nervous chemical energy. I couldn't sit still for long, so once I knew he was in a deep sleep, I went downstairs and found myself staring at the kitchen floor. I was empty. I was dead. I was dirty. I hated myself. I hated this life. I hated the people who'd made me care. I hated Charlie's little fucking house where dirt seemed to gravitate. I hated that fucking spot on the floor. So I began to clean it all.

By the time Charlie got up to get ready for work, the entire downstairs was sparkling. Every time I felt myself coming down just a little, I did a little bump. Now I was on my hands and knees, scrubbing the shit out of that little purple spot on the floor next to the oven. I didn't look up. Charlie and his stupid voice wasn't a threat right now. "Why are you cleaning? I thought kids your age hated that kind of stuff." "You obviously don't know a kid like me." "Well, that's a given. So why are you cleaning at four in the morning? You just did it the other day." I scrubbed harder. "Because your fucking house is dirty and I can't live in the fucking filth anymore." He was silent for a full minute. I could feel him watching me scrub the linoleum. I had half a mind to just grab a knife and pull the shit up. "Bella, that stain's been there since before your mom and I moved in." That was all the more reason to get the fucking thing out. My arms ached as I moved the brush faster, pressing it to the floor harder. Stupid fucking Lady Macbeth with her stupid fucking need to get the damn spot out. I stopped paying attention to anything other than getting the area to come clean, but when my arms refused to do any more, I got the vacuum, disassembling it all and spraying the whole thing down with all-purpose cleaner. "Why are you cleaning the vacuum?" That was Dr. Hale's voice. I wondered when the fuck she got here, but in the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter. "How can you have a clean fucking house when the thing you use to clean it is fucking dirtier than sin?" "Bella, I need to know why you're so agitated." I wish people around here would stop using my name. "What happened? You told me just last week how good you felt. What's going on? Is this about your memory of?" I remained silent, focusing only on removing all of the hairs and threads that were wound tight around the spinning brush. I wasn't going to be tricked into her shit. There was nothing anyone needed to know about how I felt, what I thought, or what the fuck happened in the distant past or just yesterday. No one needed to know shit about me. And fuck her if she thought I was going to talk about those six guys. She kept talking, so I went back to the spot near the oven. Dr. Hale went on and on saying something about needing to express things and that she knew something happened and that Edward was quite upset too, but her primary concern was for me now. She needed to shut the fuck up. Couldn't she see that I was cleaning? The floor was fucking dirty and I needed to fucking clean it.

I didn't care what Charlie said. That spot was going to come up, even if I had to bleach the shit out of it to do it. It would be gone before I gave up. The only thing that forced me away from that kitchen floor was that Dr. Hale and Charlie wouldn't give up either. Finally, I glanced at the clock, pretended I was shocked that it was nearly ten in the morning, and then ran upstairs saying how I couldn't believe I was late for school. I showered, dressed, and threw shit in my school bag. I returned downstairs and let them watch me in silence as I took my blood sugar and my insulin. I ate a bizarre mixture of food and then tried to leave. Charlie wanted to take me to school and then Dr. Hale said she would. I refused them both, telling Charlie that he should get to work and telling Dr. Hale that she'd be better off spending her morning talking to someone who gave a shit. I didn't know how I did it, but I finally made it out to the public bus stop. However, I didn't go to school. I didn't even look up as the bus passed the building on its way to Port Angeles. It was lunchtime when I knocked on James' door. The idea had come to me when Dr. Hale was talking. There would be no one in Forks who would treat me like a regular person. In Forks I'd always been Charlie Swan's daughter, member of the Cullen/Hale team of fuck-ups. But James wouldn't care about any of that. He'd just fuck me. He wouldn't fall in love or even be gentle if I didn't want him to. And I didn't want him to be gentle. I wanted to fucking hurt. Dirty girl. The door opened and he stood before me without his shirt. I looked at his fire and shrapnel scars, thankful that they weren't the twisted scars from a belt. "Hi." He'd obviously just woken up. He looked at me without saying anything, his eyes scanning my body from the top of my head, down to my feet and then back up again. He pushed the door back and I ducked by him. The house was messy and half of the things that had been there last fall were gone. Obviously his wife had left him. Old fast-food bags and wrappers were all over the floor and table. I felt the need to clean for him. He was thinner too. I wanted to cook him something. His strong hand was in my hair. So fucking dirty, Bella. This was exactly why I was here. I didn't have to think or feel guilty or worry about doing anything wrong. James pressed me against a wall. It was so obvious what would happen. His mouth never came anywhere near mine, but his hands were all over me. My eyes slipped shut and I ignored the image of Edward when it flashed in my mind. He picked me up. His hands were behind my knees, pressing my thighs up and apart, my back flush against the wall. I was naked and his pants were pooled around his ankles.

His teeth scraped against my knobby collarbone. He bit down. Good girls get fucked in the pussy, Bella. Tell me what bad, dirty girls get. I shook my head as if he could fucking see it. I just wanted James to do it. I just needed him to fuck me. He was big and strong enough to manipulate my entire body. I was powerless and for once it felt fantastic. Dirty girls like you get fucked in the ass, Bella. Now tell me you want it. I should've done another line before knocking on the door, but as soon as James pressed me down on him, and as soon as his hips bucked up, it didn't matter because all I felt was him and all I heard in my mind was him. It was fucking good and I fucking loved it. I wanted more. I didn't know if James could sense what I wanted or if he was just in the mood to fuck hard, but he pulled us away from the wall and practically slammed me down face-first on the table. It was higher than most tables, so my feet dangled. "Fuck," I said, biting my lip. "What was that?" It was the first thing he'd said to me. "Harder. Fuck me harder." He obliged, his hand at my neck tightening and the one on my hip digging into me. "More," I gritted, "hurt me more." Afterwards, I cleaned up his house a little, picking up beer cans and liquor bottles, and dumping out ashtrays. Then I did what I could to make him lunch. He had next to nothing, so I opened a bunch of cans and ended up making some kind of southwestern bean and corn salad. Before I left, he grabbed my arm and pulled me close to his warm body. My open hand was pressed to his scarred skin. "You coming back?" I nodded. "Sometime." We fucked again in his foyer. It needed to be cleaned too, but it was perfectly acceptable for fucking a dirty girl like me. It was after four when I headed back to Forks. I discreetly inhaled the last of my coke on the bus ride and stopped by Tyler's to pick up some more.

I was pretty sure I'd have to go to school tomorrow, so I wanted to be prepared. I had to get it together. Charlie and Hale would immediately think I was doing drugs again, so it became priority number one to act sober. When they confronted me about not going to school, I didn't deny it. I told him I just wandered around to think. I said they could give me a piss test if they were worried, but they didn't call my bluff. I had to have a mini-session with Hale to talk about Edward. No, not Edward; Bronze Cullen. She was fishing for information and I wasn't entirely sure it was to help me. Any information gleaned would have been used to help poor, little EdwBronze Cullen. I wondered what he was doing and if he was terribly upset. For a half-an-hour she worked on me to go talk to him. Fights between two people happened, she told me. Sometimes they seemed like the biggest thing in the world, but really it was a misunderstanding. She knew we cared for each other. Didn't I owe it to him, to myself to at least try to figure it all out? Dr. Hale didn't know shit. Her words were shit. Her entire existence was shit. I hated what I'd said and done to Edward of all people, but I couldn't take any of it back now. Once you hit someone, once you've brought that kind of shit into their lives, you couldn't pretend it didn't happen. Edward was the kind of dude that would just accept it, accept me and I couldn't keep allowing that. I would continue to fuck up his life until it was destroyed. I would taint Faramir to the very core of his being because I was Gollum and the only thing I wanted was everything. I would eventually make him just like me and he wouldn't even be aware of it until one day he woke up and realized that everything had gone to shit. He'd look over and see me at the heart of it all. But Faramir was too good for that life. I needed to get the fuck away from him before he was tempted to be anything else. Gollum couldn't change and neither could I. Just like Gollum, I'd tried for a quick minute to go back to who I was before. Unfortunately, there was no more little girl left in me. There was no more innocence. Thieving and lying and fucking had blotted out anything good and I was just a stupid fuck for thinking I could ever be anything other than a corrupted wretch. The only thing I could do was try to save the last piece of goodness I saw in the world. Edward, Faramir, motherfucking Bronze Cullen needed to sever ties with my dead weight. He needed to stop caring and get the fuck away before the vortex of my existence sucked the life out of him. I agreed to see him. Hale wanted to take me over there right away. It took me a half-hour to find everything I needed and shove it into a box. I did just enough coke to see me through this last bit of pain with Edward, but not enough to raise suspicion. I acted normal, whatever the fuck that was. Tears pricked at my eyes as I rode in the cruiser. Acting normal meant releasing my anger and once that was gone, I had nothing with which to shield myself. I felt bare and open. I felt exposed and raw. I hated it.

I hated this. "Y-y-y-y-you're hhhhhigh." I clutched the box to my chest and saw how pitiful he looked perched on the edge of his bed. He didn't look like he fucking owned that bed again and I wanted to shove him onto it, but I was here to end it. I was here to not give a shit about where he sat anymore. It would be better for him in the long run. "Fuck, yes, I am and you're sedated." I looked at the raw, opened wounds on his hands. He shoved them under his thighs as if I wouldn't be able to see the new marks. "Are you going to tell on me?" I tried to be emotionless, but my voice shook with it. All I wanted to do was wrap myself in Edward and breathe. He blinked and then narrowed his eyes, his head cocking to the right. Confusion clouded the deep green. "N-n-no." He eyed the box and then stood up. My fingers tightened. "This is all your shit." It was pretty much everything he'd given me, hat and gloves included. It broke my heart a little to collect it all, but at least I was giving it back to him and not being forced to burn it. No. This was my choice. This was the one thing I could do to protect him from the danger that constantly surrounded me. "B-b-b-b-b" He shook his head. His hands wrung together, the skin being pulled taut and twisted. "I d-d-d-don't w-w-w-w-wwwwwant it b-b-b-b-back, B-B-B-Bella." Oh god, the panic in his eyes just about crippled me. The pain in his voice was nearly unbearable. He looked down, his face reddened. Thank god and the Flying Spaghetti Monster that I was high. What I'd said and done the other day had made him ashamed of his stutter again. I was an asshole; such a huge, huge asshole. That is why I was doing this. This was for him. Now that he'd broken out of his shell of solitude for me, and once he was over the shit that surrounded his association with me, he'd be able to find someone better. I was just a stepping stone to someone who deserved him. He'd go to college and find someone better, someone worthy, and not a monster; someone human. He'd find a girl who didn't hit him. She'd be the kind of girl who could take care of him and would never break him. He needed that girl. Not me. So I needed to give him the chance to find her. But he wouldn't make it easy. Edward could be stubborn and I foresaw him clinging to this notion of loving me. I'd have to hurt him.

He would hurt, but I would hurt more. I would be strong and say what needed to be said in order to get him to realize that I would never be good or right for him. I took a trembling step forward and set the box down between us and then stepped back to the door, my hands grasping the doorknob. "I-I-I'm sssssssorry, B-B-Bella. I-I-I w-w-w-w-was" He was apologizing and it was like a fist to my stomach. "You didn't do anything." The words were out before I could stop them. "You don't belong in my world, Edward. You belong in a world of freshly-fallen snow and brilliantly-colored wildflowers." I could tell his mind was moving slow. "You d-do t-too." I gritted my teeth. He wasn't getting it at all. "I'mbroken. I'm not good enoughwhole enough for you." He shook his head and took a step toward the box, toward me. His head was cocked again and his eyes cut into me, ripping little pieces of my heart out. "I-I-I'm nnnnnnot m-mad, B-Bella." My hands fisted. "But you fucking should be. That's your fucking issue. You're too damn forgiving." Again he shook his head. "I d-d-d-didn'tI d-d-d-don't r-rrrrrreact the w-w-way I sssssshould. I m-m-mmmmmade you" I almost laughed at what he was saying. "I hit you because you wouldn't let me suck your dick, Edward. It's not fucking right. Ask anyone and they'll" "If everyone is b-b-b-b-bothering you" I stared in disbelief. Where was he coming up with this? Was he not listening to me? ".w-w-w-we c-c-c-can g-g-go aw-w-w-way together. I'll g-g-g-go anywhere w-w-with you." For a moment I was tempted. I wanted what he said to be true. I had instantaneous fantasies of us running away together, but each one ended in Edward's pain. I couldn't let that happen. This shit needed to stop. My chest ached. I could die right now from nothing more than the look of hope and pain on his face. "I don't want that."

His mouth opened, but nothing came out. "I'm never going to be any better for you. I'll always be this way. You don't belong in my world." Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, he asked, "Y-y-y-y-you d-d-d-don't w-wwww-wwwwant mmmme?" Oh, fuck, my heart hurt. "No." "B-b-b-but you llll-llllove me." The pain inside of me was strong enough that I thought I would die right here, right now. "Those are just words." He bit his left hand as he shook his head. I looked away. "Words mean shit, Edward. You of all people should know that." I paused to collect myself because tears wouldn't help. "I lovefucking and getting high. I don'tfuckinglove you." He took a step back. "You werea nice distraction." He sat down on the bed. His hand bled. "But the world is full of distractions." I kicked the box lightly with my toe. "I don't want any of this." I worried about his hand as I twisted the doorknob. When the door was open, I looked up at him. "Please just do me a favor." Edward looked up at me, his eyes bright with pain. "Stop hurting your hands." I could see his jaw relax just slightly. "It'sdisgusting." And with that, I left. I quickly found my way outside and waited for Charlie to realize I'd left the house. The cruiser was locked but as soon as he came out and opened the door for me, I threw myself inside. Slowly he got in and I pressed myself to the door, but I didn't look out of the window until he'd pulled away from the Cullens' house. "Bella?" I choked back a sob and brought my legs up to my chest. It felt like I was bleeding out from a big gaping wound. Something warm was on my arm. I shoved it off of me and violently sent my hands toward Charlie. "Don't fucking touch me." "Bella," he said again, a strangled, worried sigh. "Esme would like to see us again tomorrow." I shook my head, the heels of my hands coming up to scrub at the wayward tears leaking from my

eyes. "I'm not going back there." "Bunny," he said, and I wanted to puke when he used that nickname. "The judge" I sat up straight and leveled my eyes at him. "I don't give a fuck about the judge. I'm not going back there. I'll pay for my own mindfucker if I have to, but it's not going to be her and it's not going to be there." The car was silent until he asked, "What happened, Bella?" I was so tired of everyone saying my name. "What happened?" I repeated, "What happened was me. I fucking happened. I'm the worst fucking person to have ever put with him! I am a fucking bomb in the heart of the best fucking person in the world!" "I don't understand." I chuckled. It was dark and humorless. "Of course you don't. You're not fucked like I am." I forced myself to eat dinner and then breakfast, just like I forced myself to go to school. I ignored everyone that I used to talk to. I ignored AliPixie in Photography, Skinny Chick during Englis h, and everyone at lunch. Actually, I skipped lunch pretty much altogether. I ate carrots from home and did a bump of the Big C in the bathroom. As I roamed the halls, navigating from one fucked-up class to another, I kept reminding myself that these people weren't my friends. It helped. But Biology nearly killed me. I had to sit next to Edward, who was still so clearly distraught and slightly sedated. I held the green rock in my fist. I hadn't been able to put it in that box. He wanted to talk to me, that was clear, but I couldn't let myself even look at him. I needed it to be like I didn't exist to keep him safe. If I looked at him, if I let him speak to me, if I spoke to him, I would crumble. I would turn to pieces of mush and ask him to forgive me. He would. We would act like nothing happened. Until it happened again. And I couldn't do that shit anymore. I wanted to shove the rock at him. I didn't fucking want the thing anymore. But I couldn't give it back. My hand was frozen.

The bell rang and I flew to P.E. I didn't bother changing out of my clothes. I told Coach Clapp that I felt sick. I sat on the bleachers and watched the girls play field hockey indoors. I hated my life. I walked around aimlessly at work, pulling product from displays to put to the shelf. I filled shit up because apparently customers liked full shelves. Heaven forbid they take the last can of baked beans. The last item on any table or shelf was tainted, apparently. It was all an illusion. An illusion of choice. When it was quitting time, I sat out on the rock salt and waited for Charlie to pick me up. It was only after I'd been sitting out there for an hour that I realized I hadn't told him to come get me. He probably had no idea I was off at eight and sitting here waiting for him. Edwarfuck. Bronzefuck. No one was here to pick me up. No one was coming for me. I wished I still had my license. I wished I had a car. I could just drive away. It was nine o'clock when Jessica's shift was up. I didn't want to catch a ride with her. I'd be better off sitting on this stupid pallet of salt until Charlie got worried enough to come check on me. "So what's up with you and Edward?" I ignored both her question and her as she sat down. Obviously I was transparent enough for clueless Jessica to figure out that something had gone down between the two of us. "I was right though, huh?" "'bout what?" I asked, my tone bored. "How good he is at fucking." I gritted my teeth. Jessica Stanley had no idea and no right to say shit like that. "Funny." "What?" "We've fucked the same guys. Him and Mike." I was going to puke. I felt bile rise up. I didn't fuck Mike. He fucked me. I hopped down off of the salt. "Yeah, well fucking shoot me the next time we share men, okay?" "Lauren is so right about you." I craned my neck. "Yeah? What does Bitchface have to say about me?" Jessica's eyes narrowed. "You're fucked. You're nothing but white trash that doesn't deserve anything she has. She says that you're a slut and if you had any self-respect"

While I didn't disagree with the assessment, I interrupted Bitchface Junior. "Maybe, but I don't go around licking guys' assholes in hopes of gaining popularity and then feigning virginity when it suits me." I walked away, ignoring whatever it was she said next. I sat on Riley's front bumper until he came out. "Need a ride, Swan?" I nodded and he opened the passenger-side door. When he slipped in, I asked, "Do you want to smoke? I have money." As he started the truck, he studied me for a second before reaching between his legs and pulling out the red metal toolbox. "Knock yourself out." I rolled and lit a small joint. I didn't need much; the coke had me pretty wired and I just needed enough to come down a little. "Where to tonight, Miss Daisy?" "Home, eventually." "Where to now though?" "Wherever we can go so I can smoke the shit out of this pinner." I smoked and he drove. I had a very detailed fantasy about doing very naughty things with him. We stopped right outside the silent little airport. In Phoenix this place would still be bustling, but here the whole thing was shut down for the night. Riley left the engine running, which left the music playing. I didn't want to hear it so I clicked it off as he rolled a joint for himself and puffed it. When he snubbed it out and set it in the ashtray, I felt the need to break the silence. "Do you want to fuck me, Riiiiley?" I drew out his name because it sounded good rolling off my tongue like that. He coughed like he was choking. "Um" I rose up onto my knees and turned my whole body to him. "Why don't you ever try to fuck me? You're so hot, and as far as I know you're single and I'm-" "Swan," he began, his voice deeper than usual, "as sexy as I find you, you aren't eighteen. I'm too old for you." I licked my lips, and then sucked the bottom one in and bit it gently. "Fuck that. Age is pretty meaningless. It's just a number." "But it's an incredibly important number when one of us isn't a legal adult."

That sounded like a poor excuse not to fuck. "So in September, you'll fuck me?" His eyes widened. "UmI'll be in California by then." Right. Because Riley was going to California. Even though his deadline to move there had come and gone at least three times. I straddled him, rubbing myself on him. He was a man and just like every man, and it didn't matter what their mouth said, their bodies always told a different story. I kissed him. I sucked on his neck. I raked my teeth over his Adam's apple. He gripped my hips, his hands tight on my flesh. They reminded me of Edward's hands. Fuck. I pulled away just enough to pull up his work shirt. I worked his bottom lip like I'd just done to mine. I sucked it into my mouth hard and then bit it gently. I put my hands in his hair as I rocked on top of him. His dick was hard and it pressed into me. I pulled the thick blond strands between my fingers. "Damn," he said against my mouth, the whiskers of his beard scratching at the sensitive skin of my face. I wanted to ride it. I wanted to sink down on his face and soak those whiskers. I wanted to He took my wrists and pulled them from his hair, and then pushed me away. My back was pressed against the steering wheel. "What the fuck?" "This isn't going to happen," he said in-between breaths. I tried to move back to him. He was hard and all I needed to do was get his brain to switch off for just a short second and I'd be able to "You're seventeen and I can't have sex with you." I pulled my wrists away because I hated that shit from anyone. I got off of him quickly, and settled back down. "Why don't you grow up, Riley?" "Me? I should grow up?" Anger and hate flooded me. "You're never going to be a professional surfer. You'll always be the loser who works at the fucking Thriftway throwing milk for a living. Here's a newsflash: I am seventeen but in a few months, I'll be eighteen. Nothing magical will happen from now until then. My vagina will be the same." He shook his head and kept his eyes fixed out the front window. "I'll take you home. I'm sure your dad's worried about you." "Fuck my father and fuck you too."

I pushed open the door and started walking. He tried to say something, but I stopped listening. It took me forever and a day to walk home and it annoyed me to no end that Riley's truck stayed with me the whole time, going two miles an hour behind me. Every so often, he'd get out and say something, only to hop back into the truck when I didn't respond. I said nothing to Charlie when I entered the house. He asked how work was. I was tempted to ask him how his fucking case of beer was, but instead I went to the kitchen and made a sandwich. I went to James' house instead of school the next day. As soon as I was inside, he picked me up and fucked me on his tall dining room table. I was face-down and half off of it, and he alternated between holding my arms behind me and wrapping his hand in my hair and pressing my face down into the smooth, polished wood. The loss of control felt nice. It wassoothing. When I'd come several times and he finished, he pulled me to my feet and bit me where my neck and shoulders met. I hoped it left a mark. I asked him if he wanted lunch and he grunted. He followed me into the kitchen and watched as I took shit from the freezer and figured out what to do with it. He had a shot of tequila and followed it up with three or four dark beers. He fucked me against the refrigerator before lunch was finished and then face-down on the linoleum in the foyer before I left. I felt numb and fantastic. I'd let him do whatever he wanted to me if I could continue feeling like this. Charlie knew I'd skipped school and he grounded me or whatever. On Thursday he made me see Dr. Bitch. All three of us sat in Charlie's living room. I wasn't high. I was too worried she'd realize I was doing coke and send me to some fucked-up place. I refused to speak though. There was nothing to say. I wanted no part in the bullshit. They could spout their lies about getting better, about having a chance at a normal life, but I could see through the thin promises and fake words of people who knew fuck-all about anything. I kept clutching at that stupid green rock. I wanted to throw it at her and tell her I didn't need this shit anymore, but instead, my fingers turned white with the force used to grip it. I thought about getting high. I thought about getting fucked by James. I thought about getting the fuck away from this shitty little room in this shitty little house in this shitty little town.

Chapter 60: Hate Me Bella As awful as it sounded, now that I'd severed my ties with Edward, I felt just a bit freer. I missed the shit out of him, but it was easier to just be when I didn't give a fuck about what he thought of me or what I did. The next step in the process would be to break free from my ties to everyone else. It would be easier to break free of them, but school would be out soon and even he'd forget I ever existed. I was high most of the time now. When I wasn't, I felt hurt and upset, angry and volatile, so I tried to be high or buzzed as often as I possibly could. I couldn't fuck James as often as I would have liked, but I did my best to get to Port Angeles whenever I could. So far Charlie seemed clueless. As long as I acted normal around him and kept my high to a dull buzz, he didn't seem to suspect anything. At least I didn't think he did, but I'd stopped paying much attention. "Come over," James said. I'd called him from work, a relatively safe place to use the phone. "I don't think I can. Come see me." "Drive to Sequim?" "What?" Oh, shit. I forgot I'd told him that. "No, Forks. I live in Forks." "Since when?" "I lied. Besides, can't you see the area code on your I.D.?" "Baby, I've been drinking. I can't drive. Forks isfuck, where the fuck is Forks?" I smiled. "Sober up and come fuck me." "I can't." "But I want you to fuck me," I said, using my best girly pouting voice. "Come over tomorrow," he said in a growl. "I'll try." But tomorrow was a school day and it was hard to get up there on school days. Even though the end of the year was close, teachers still took attendance. I'd been able to call in sick to work and take the bus up there, but it was difficult to get back home in time before Charlie picked me up at the Thriftway. It was difficult to articulate what I got out of my time with James beyond orgasms. What I didn't get out of it wasendless fucking questions about what I ate, what my blood sugar was, or what Renee's

boyfriend's name was. He didn't give a shit if my homework was finished or if I slept in class. He didn't give me wounded puppy looks or make me feel guilty about not being a better person. I was thankful for the reprieve. James had grown rougher with me, although not in an intentionally malicious way; it was just an organic evolution of our physical relationship. He seemed to need to release aggression and I seemed to need to take it. James was big enough to physically manipulate my body without any help from me. I kind of liked that. Last time he'd smacked my ass until it was red and hurting. That was before he fucked me face-down and ass-up for forty-five minutes. I came hard and the feeling lasted quite a while. The next time he fucked my ass. I hadn't been prepared and I wasn't able to brace myself for the initial pain. He'd just picked me up, grabbed my legs at the knees and pressed them up and out so that my legs were nearly flush against the wall behind me. I hadn't been prepared the first time either, but at least this time I knew what the pain was like. The first time I'd been young and while I knew what it felt like to get hit and thrown down the stairs, I hadn't known this kind of pain even existed. I felt empty, but the emptiness was good. I didn't have to care anymore. I simply chose not to. A week ago I'd met his friend, a French guy named Laurent. He had a big dick. He didn't fuck me, but he fucked a woman on James' couch while James fucked me on the stairs. I watched him as he did her. He was sexy and the woman had a great time. She was a screamer. James asked him if he wanted to fuck me and told him that I liked a little pain, but Laurent said no. It pissed me off. He said I was too small. If that woman was any indication of what he liked, he must be into tall women with wide hips and tits the size of my head. It was fine. He seemed like he liked tender shit anyway. Fucking neck-kissing and finger-sucking, hands trailing down torsos and tongues swirling around nipples. I did my best to ignore everyone at school. I tried not to even look in EdwBronze Cullen's direction. I felt like shit every time I did. Once in a while, when I couldn't help myself, our eyes would meet, and I would do my best to seem indifferent or pissed before looking away. To be honest, I was surprised at how easily he let me go. I thought for sure he would've fought a little harder, but he'd believed me when I said I didn't want him. That showed how fucking much he thought of me too. It was better this way. It was near the end of the day and I was in the bathroom snorting coke off of the toilet paper dispenser in one of the stalls. My mind was too fucking active and I needed it to shut the fuck up. Come on, dirty girl, show them a good time. I snorted a long line, pinched my nostrils together and waited for a second to see if I needed another one. You'll love her mouth. She's nasty. I snorted another line as I remembered horrible things I had no business remembering.

Six men. No wonder my brain blocked that shit. I wish I could go back to before I remembered. It wasn't like they took turns. It was all at once. Except one, because I didn't have enough hands and parts to accommodate all of them, so one jacked off until the other was done. I was so little and it was all at once. The logistics of it all seemed so unreal, but I could remember exactly how it happened now. I threw up in the toilet before snorting the last line. I had someplace to be, but I couldn't move. Those men had moved my body the way they wanted it. Renee's boyfriend kissed my mouth when it was done and the other men had left. He ran his hand through my tangled hair and picked me up. He took a shower with me and told I'd done well. I remembered feeling happy that I'd done something well enough to make him say nice things to me. I remembered that my legs ached and shook, and he had to hold me under the water. I remembered hearing him outside my door, telling my mother how sick I was, and how I probably should stay in bed the next day. He distracted her from her anger at my stupidity by fucking her against my door. I wasn't high enough for this shit, but another line would do nothing. Besides, I had to catch the bus to work. I was having trouble focusing because I'd snorted just a bit too much. My body shook from the coke and the memories. It took an awful long time to make it out to the parking lot and the distance between the school and the bus stop seemed enormous. The parking lot was almost empty. The student lot seemed vacant, except for a few cars, two of which I knew belonged to the Cullens and the Hales. EdwardFuck Bronze motherfuckingshit. I gave up on stuffing him back into that little box. Edward had stopped driving himself to school and rode with Big and Pixie Cullen again. Boy Hale sat against his sister's car, next to Big Cullen. Pixie and Edward were inside the Jeep. Barbie Hale seemed hell-bent on talking to me. It was exactly what I needed. It wasn't easy to focus, but I was pretty sure she called me a bitch and asked why I'd ever fucked with Edward in the first place. I glanced inside the Jeep. Pixie had her hands in his hair. Bitch, bitch, bitch! He looked like he was about to throw up as usual. I stood there and let her say her piece because it was meaningless to me but she obviously needed to do it. I was fine until she indicated that my relationship with Edward was nothing more than a way to fuck with him; a way to suck the life out of someone else.

The bitch called me a psychic vampire. "Consider yourself lucky I don't hit pregnant chicks, otherwise I'd drop your ass." "Like you could," she returned, her arms folding over her chest. "You're too high to see straight. I doubt you could even throw a punch." "Like I said, if you weren't pregnant, I'd show you. I'm pretty sure my mommy hit harder than your daddy." Her face changed. She looked like a little girl and at that point her brother stepped in. "You should leave, Bella." "Oh! Blondie Boy to the rescue! Can't stop fighting your sister's battles can you?" I took a step closer to him. "In case you're too stupid to have caught it, I was minding my own business when your bitch of a sister stopped me." Somehow Pixie was next to him now. "Bella, I know stuff happened, but we're still, you know, your friends." I laughed. "Right. 'My friends.'" I continued to laugh even though she looked like she was ready to cry. I looked at Big Cullen who had moved over to the Jeep. He was leaning against the front bumper, blocking my view of Edward. I suspected his was on purpose, but more to save Edward from seeing me. "What about you, friend? You want to chime in?" He shook his head, but then said, "Just be careful. People care about you." He tilted his head backward him a little, indicating that by "people," he meant "Edward." I responded by saying, "People are fucking idiots for caring when I don't want them to." "You can't control what other people do." "Jesus. How do you guys live with yourselves? You're all such monumental assholes." Of course, I knew how hard it was for them to live with themselves; Pixie cut, Blondie Boy nearly self-destructed at any sign of intense emotion, Barbie deluded herself into thinking that being a mother was going to change the shit that happened in the past, and Big Cullen fooled himself into thinking that people gave two shits about him. And Edward? Edward just buried his head in the sand, put all his eggs in one basket, and crumbled into a million fucking pieces when shit flew. It didn't matter what I said, they would never understand that I chose not to be with Edward for his own good. They wouldn't understand that whatever pain he was feeling now had to be ten times easier than what would come if we were still together. His brother fucked him and half the state of Arizona fucked me. How the hell would that shit work?

No matter how badly I wanted to hop in the back of that Jeep and be wrapped in his arms and feel the heat of his body and his silky hair through my fingers, I forced myself to move. I took the bus home, instead of to work. I called Leah and asked if she was free to hang out. I called Charlie to ask permission and maintained the front that I was okay and not actively pursuing oblivion. I knew myself pretty well, even fucked up on drugs. I wasn't stupid enough to think that my path led anywhere other than personal destruction. Edward's mother used a gun because she grew tired of how long the process took, but I liked the slow descent. Tthe subtle way I inched closer to it. Although he was skeptical and questioned the shit out of me, Charlie said that I could hang with Leah. I called her back and said, "Grab your Fuck-Me boots and come get me. Let's go you some pussy." It was a thinly-veiled offer. I didn't give a shit about Leah and her romantic plight, but she had a car and I'd overheard someone talking to her about a rave-esque party somewhere in the middle of BFE. Before I'd gotten wasted in the bathroom, I'd told her if she wanted to go, I'd be down for it. While I waited for her to pick me up, I ate and dressed, making sure my insulin level was good and I had glucose tablets in my pocket. I wore black jeans, an orange tank top and shoes that were suitable for dancing. Leah arrived and someone huge jumped into the backseat. As I got in, I saw that it was Jacob's friend Paul. I rolled my eyes. "What's with the tag-a-long?" "He knows where it is." I craned my neck and he shot me a smile. I remembered what Bitchface Junior had said about him and his cock. I made her stop at Tyler's and I was in and out quickly. When we were far away from Forks, Paul started supplying directions with amazing inaccuracy. He said things like, "I think you take a left here," and "Dude said it was by the thing with the blue light on top." I turned around and looked Paul up and down. "So I hear you have some kind of scary, big dick." He smiled. He had a big mouth and I hoped his dick lived up to all of the hype. "It's pretty big," he said, lips shifting into a smirk. He sounded so proud of himself. "Let's see it." "Oh, yuck," Leah said, sticking her tongue out as she drove. "This is a dick-free car, okay?" He didn't hesitate, but leaned back, unzipped his jeans and pulled it out. It was pretty impressive, especially since it was only semi-erect. "Show me your tits and I'll show you how big it gets when I'm hard." Fuck, yeah. I was fairly certain I'd be riding that tonight. "Fucking sick," Leah hissed. "Bella, keep your titties under-wraps in my car. I mean, I'd love to see

them, but if it means XY back there gets a boner, no dice." We finally found the place. Leah's mother called to check on her. The conversation made me uncomfortable, so I stood outside of the car with Paul and dug into my pocket. I produced the chalky little pills wrapped in plastic. One had a little butterfly on it, and the other a smiley-face. I had gotten them for Leah and me, but Paul would be much more fun. "Want to roll with me?" His smile faded and he looked at me, then the pills, and then at me again. "Bella, I" He'd never done Ecstasy before. I pressed myself close to him. "I promise it'll be fun. It'll be the best night you've ever had." When his hands moved around the small of my back, I knew I pretty much had him. "I'll take care of you," I whispered. He hesitated until I grabbed his junk. "Jacob's going to hate me." I snorted. I didn't belong to Jacob. I gave Paul the smiley-face and I took the butterfly. It was the same thing, but I liked the thought of floating. We walked into what looked like a pole barn, but the music told us otherwise. Leah stayed close until the shit started to kick in for Paul about a half-hour later. He got really handsy. I thought Leah was going to knee him in the junk and I laughed. I knew my shit was working when he ran his hands down my bare arms and I shivered. It felt so fucking good, I swear to god I almost came from just his fucking fingertips on the insides of my elbows. Leah said something and then moved to our left, heading for a group of girls. I hoped she got laid. Every time she came over with her mother she couldn't shut the fuck up about that girl who was fucking Paul's friend. Oh, fuck, Paul was right behind me. He was big and strong and his body was hot and pressed against mine. The music was slow at first, but then from nowhere the beats were just rap-tap-tapping from huge speakers. I hadn't meant to dance, but somehow my body was moving with the music and the only things I gave a shit about were Paul and dancing and feeling this fucking good. I fucking loved it. The place was dark, except for the laser-like lights that flashed. They gave me small glimpses of Paul's face. The music, the lights, and the heat of the people all around me, took over my brain and I thought of nothing else. Everyone's body was moving as one. The music was thumping, pumping, and pulsating. With every beat, it drove us collectively toward our peak. We all gyrated and moved as if the beats were in us, emanating from us. Each one was a step closer, closer, closer to the climax, the point where the mind could take no more. Paul still rubbed my arms, my shoulders, my back; anything and everything he could touch.

I felt like I was close to an orgasm, and then there was a sudden silence and we all breathed in. And fuck! The beats were back, faster and more driven than before. I danced with the people around us. Paul was against my back and some chick with pretty boobs was in front of me. The beat dropped and brought us back down, taking us all away from the gratification it had promised. Everyone was feeding off of the whole, the collective. I loved them all and they loved me. I was love and I was loved. The music was building again and continued to build until it snapped and serotonin flooded my brain. The beat finally faded, bringing the chemicals in my brain down with it until all I was aware of was Paul's hands on me. One was up my shirt, the other down my pants, and then they were on my arms and chest, pulling me back against him and pushing me forward through the crowd. There was a wall and he hoisted me up. I could only concentrate on his hands on my skin, my flesh rising up to met his fingertips. Somehow, with pants hanging from one leg, he pushed into me hard. His dick felt great. I felt great. I felt loved. His dick made me feel good; made me feel loved. His dick was love and it loved me. While involved in the act, I felt fucking fantastic. It was sexy and raw and real, and fucking the best thing ever in the goddamn world. I knew that Edward would never do this. He would never fuck me like this, in a place like this. But after I came, even though the E was trying to buoy me back up, I felt like shit. Edward would never want to do this. The only reason I did this was because I was a dirty girl. Edward would I got Paul hard again, going down on him quickly while some dude next to us adjusted his cock in his leather pants. Paul fucked me again, hard, but kind of soft and sweet too. I felt good again because I wasn't thinking about rusty hair or books or music or broken bits of skin on hands. I was thinking about Paul's big cock thrusting into me, making me feel like a goddamn dirty princess. We danced after that and fucked again. I fucking loved his body on mine. It was hot. We drank cold water and touched just to give the other one shivers. He laughed and his white teeth sparkled when he smiled. I giggled when he touched me, his tongue lapping at my ear as he told me he was going to marry me one day. We were sitting on the hood of that chick's car when she came up to us. She was mad. Why was she so mad? How could she be so angry when there was nothing but love around this whole place? It swirled and swayed between Paul and me. It flowed from his fingertips, it shone from his eyes, and it floated to me and warmed me. "You guys are so fucked up."

I had to think of her name, but Paul's toes were tickling my thigh. Fuck, it was a name. It was a girl name like Lisa or Linda or Elle-something. Leah. Angry Chick's name was Leah. "Don't be mad, Leah, baby." "Yeeeeeaaaaaah," Paul said, drawing out the word with a smile. "Don't hate because we found looooooove." "Okay, how about I hate because you two fucking ditched me for five fucking hours and I had to watch you bone on the hood of my car?" Her eyes trained on Paul. "Do you have any idea how much you weigh, asshole?" I slid off the hood and gave her a hug. "I'm sorry," I said into her hair. "Did you find pussy?" She pushed me away, but I could tell she wasn't as angry as before. I sat in the back with Paul. Actually, I sat on top of Paul in the back seat. My pants were off again. His hands loved my hips. "Jesus, guys, not in the car, okay?" She craned her neck around and glanced at us. "Ugh. Disgusting. You're like dogs." I couldn't stop moving, but Paul responded with a smile. "Nope. They don't do it with the girl on top. But we could switch. It's very roomy" I threaded my hands through his hair and pulled it. "Talk too much." I rolled out of bed. The worst thing about dropping beans was that you felt like an asshole the next day when you woke up and remembered saying that you loved the whole world, when really you'd rather let it all burn while you toasted marshmallows on its red, glowing embers. I got up, took my blood sugar and then went downstairs. "Isabella," I heard as I grabbed a coffee cup. The smell of eggs and bacon had forced me awake. It was a good thing since I had to work later. I could have slept all day. I knew since he used my proper name that he was upset about something, but I refused respond until I was ready. I looked at the skillet he'd left on the stove. I filled my cup and then went to the kitchen table and examined the plate he'd fixed for me. "Isabella." "My sugar was good this morning. Seventy fasting. Hungry though." "I'm sure you are," he said as I finally sat down. I didn't have to wait long to figure out what he meant by that. "Sue called." "So?" "So Leah come home upset last night."

I sighed. Leah was apparently a tattle-telling bitch, as well as a crybaby. This was the part where I caught hell for rolling last night. "I don't know who you think I am, Bella, but I can't just let you do whatever you want. I can't let you go back to using drugs. You're so much better than this, Bunny." I bristled when he used the nickname, but I couldn't blow up at him. If I did, he'd get with Hale and I'd find myself somewhere I didn't want to be. As if he read my mind, he said, "Rehab is still an option. I know that you're having a tough time, especially sincewell, since whatever happened with Edward, but you can't fall back into your old ways." Okay, he was being rational about all this and I fought hard to do the same. My instinct was to hurt him in some way, to yell, to scream, to freak the fuck out, but I needed him to think I was fine. If he found out what I'd been doing, I'd be sent away for sure and I needed a little time to plan for that. So I acted upset about my break-up with Edward. I acted upset about messing up, but most of all, I acted sorry for having rolled last night. But I wasn't upset or sorry. Last night was great. I didn't give a shit about Leah being upset. I had a blast. Even if I kind of felt like an asshole, I felt loved and loving and wanted and warm. "I'm so very serious, Bella. Please don't do it again. Your life is worth too much to just flush it down the toilet like this." I let tears fill my eyes as I said I was sorry. Charlie bought it all and like I knew he would, he grew awkward and unsure of himself at the sight of my emotion, real or not. Within two minutes, he shut up and I was able to eat my breakfast with just a simple promise to never do it ever again. One thing was for sure, I'd have to stop coming home high and remember not to ditch school.. The thing I loved about coke was the tunnel vision. There was a burst of strange lights around my peripheral vision, but it wasn't color so much as just stars of darker black blooming in the gray space. I had to force myself not to focus on the shifting and changing shades because I was walking down the hall. People could have been talking to me. If they were, I had no idea what they were saying. I thought about stars and I thought about the sun. It felt like I'd been looking at the sun for too long and now my eyes were adjusting. I was a bundle of energy. I liked it. I felt like I could run a marathon or fuck for hours. Or both. I could focus too. I could pull every blade of grass from the campus lawn. I could write a

motherfucking killer paper about whatever these assholes assigned. I could write poetry that would both suck and be hailed. It would go like, "He walks as a child of truth in the night, With starry skies above and hardened earth below." It would totally suck, but it would be shit people would read and say "I wish I could write like that." I felt like getting a magic marker and writing down my thoughts on the walls. These walls were off-white. What did they call it? Fucking eggshell or something. Eggshells were not this color. I wondered who decided to use it to paint a high school. Was it soothing or just the cheapest non-lead based paint they could find? They should've chosen a different color. Something like "Fuck," I grunted as I ran into something hard. I fell back onto my ass and looked up. Fucking Jacob Black. I wanted to ask where his smile was. I wished he would smile. He bent down, his hands wrapping around my arms, and pulled me up. I let him. There was no doubt in my mind that if I wanted to, I could make him cry, but he was being nice and helping me and he smelled like spices. I could lick him. I wanted to lick him. I wobbled and his hands remained on my body, stabilizing me. I could feel myself bouncing and I wanted it to bounce on top of him. My nose tickled. I wiped and wiggled it. "Hi, Jake." His eyes moved quickly, so quickly that I should've been nervous, but I wasn't. I wanted him to look at me. I wanted his hands on me. I wanted "Whatever it is you're getting from Tyler, you should stop." What? "What?" He brought me close to him and I breathed in deeply. Sugary, spicy tobacco. "You're so fucking high, Bella," he said against the top of my head. For whatever reason, his observation pissed me off. Maybe I was pissed that he could tell how fucked up I was. Maybe I was pissed that he felt the need to point it out to me. Maybe I was pissed because I didn't need stupid, tall fuck-heads hugging me and telling me what I already knew. Of course I was motherfucking high. It was better than walking around school like the rest of the schlubs with their school spirit and their

immature excitement about getting a summer off. "You want to go out to the woods?" I ran my hands over his chest, fisting them near the bottom of his shirt. I felt his cock stir and I pressed myself to him with a smile. He tightened his grip on my arms and I moaned just a little. He was strong and bigger than I was. I wanted him to just pick me up and fuck me hard. I didn't care who saw. I didn't care if the whole fucking school watched, as long as I was wrapped around his strong body. I'd suck his dick right here if he wanted me too. He held me firm, but took a step back. What the fuck? I looked up at him. His eyes were strange and sad. Why did everyone in the fucking world have to be fucking sad all the time? "You're going to end up killing yourself one day with all the shit you do." I laughed. I laughed hard. He was just figuring that shit out? He took his hands away and my smile evened out into nothingness when I realized he wasn't going to fuck me like I wanted him to. He was looking at me like I was lost or he was sad for me and with every ticking second, I hated him more. "I don't fucking like you, Jake." I walked away. Talk about a buzz kill. Jacob used to be fun. He used to be someone calm I could chill with. Now he was a whipped fucking puppy who The bell rang and I stopped. Where the fuck was I going? I shoved through the double-doors, focused on only one thing. I knew the Cullens and the Hales were watching me. Skinny Chick too. Angry Chick, Bitchface and Bitchface Junior as well. I could feel the eyes of the whole school on me. I was a freak in a freak show. They all were too but they liked to pretend they weren't in the circus. They liked to pretend that the normal people of the world weren't looking at them in rapt fascination, thanking their god for their normal existence. Not me. I knew I was the lead fucking freak and invited them all to stare. Because fuck them.

Jacob watched me as he chewed his food slowly. I bet he thought I was coming to see him, but when I was right next to him, I grabbed Paul's hand. He stood up after a hesitant glance at Jacob, and then Edward, and then Jacob again. It was ridiculous because I wasn't marked in some way. Neither Edward nor Jacob had peed on me. I tugged him until his legs moved and I led him out of the cafeteria and didn't stop until we were surrounded by the red metal walls of one of the stalls in the girls' bathroom. I didn't say shit to him because I wasn't interested in anything other than what was between his legs. "I don't have a condom," he said, breathy in my ear. "What?" "I don'tI meanI don't keep oneI guess, I" For fuck's sake he was an amateur. Because of the best shot in the world, I knew I couldn't get pregnant. "You didn't seem to give a shit last weekend. I'm clean, are you?" He nodded quickly and I wondered for a moment how few girls he'd really fucked. As normal as it was for me to fuck, most kids my age had such limited experience. Just because Jessica had seen his dick, didn't mean she'd fucked it. Maybe he'd been a virgin the other night. Maybe the ecstasy and I took that innocence away from him. Maybe the serotonin that flooded my brain clouded me enough to not recognize how fumbling and young his actions really were. The thought that he was inexperienced made me sick. I didn't want to think about guiding him and training him. I just wanted him to fuck me with skill and make me come. Edward had been inexperienced, and it had been somewhat of a turn-on, but I didn't like this at all. And why the fuck was I thinking about Bronze Edward? "Motherfuck!" I grabbed Paul's hands and made him grab my tits and then I pulled myself up by curling my fingers around the top edge of the stall. I wrapped my legs around him. I just wanted to fuck him and not think of Edward. I just wanted to come. Finally, he decided to cooperate. His dick was hard, his pants were down, and he finally got mine pulled from my legs. The sex wasn't as good as the shit we'd done on the weekend, but it was sex, and for a while I felt good. I sat next to Edward in Biology and ignored his puppy look and his irregular breathing. After school I had a bump of coke before taking the bus to work. I completely ignored Riley as he tried to act like nothing happened the other night. For my entire shift, I just put shit on shelves, stopping once to do a line in the bathroom.

After work Charlie and his stupid police cruiser were waiting for me. I got in, just barely high. "Want to grab dinner?" "At the shitty diner with greasy food? No." He was quiet for a second. "Bella, I knowI know you're going through something with Edward and all but" Anger flashed hot within my veins at the sound of his name passing from Charlie's lips. I bit the inside of my cheek as he told me I needed to remember to eat. "If I eat will you shut the fuck up?" "Don't talk to me like that. I'm trying to beunderstanding, but I won't let you disrespect me like that." He paused again. "I'm your father." That shit was funny, but I contained my laughter and just rolled my eyes. I said nothing. The whole thing was useless anyway. Every time I was with James, he was a little less careful with me. As I did more and more cocaine, his carelessness was more appealing. The pain helped me remember that I could still feel something. He drank heavily and would mumble things about his wife and about missing his son, but it never stopped him from fucking me with such force it took both of our breaths away. We would smoke pot sometimes, but Laurent told me how James hated hard drugs, so weed was the only thing he'd do. Laurent liked red wine and heroin. He was at James' at least half of the times I was there. He still didn't seem like he was interested in fucking me, but I could feel his eyes on me when James fucked me. Sometimes, he'd touch me. It wasn't sexual at all and it reminded me of the way Edward did it. It was like he was trying to give me hope or something stupid like that. He would run his finger down my arm while I threw together whatever food was in James' bare kitchen. If he was lying on the floor, obviously feeling the euphoria of his dope kick in, he'd reach out and touch my foot or tug on my pant leg. It wasn't like he smiled at me a lot, but he watched me intently. His touches and his looks made me uncomfortable. I would've rather had James driving into me carelessly. Sometimes Laurent and I got high together, hidden in James' bathroom. I'd snort my shit and he'd bang his. Usually, I'd sit with him for a bit to make sure he was cool. "You are a lost lamb." Huh? I made myself stop bouncing for a second and looked at him. He was leaning back against the lip of the tub, his arms outstretched. "Huh?"

"I can see it." "What?" "You are too young for this life." I laughed. If I was too young for this life, someone should've let this life know that when it picked me. "I'm not too young for anything." "You're a child." I grit my teeth, but the nice buzz I had going from the blow took the edge off of my anger. "I'm eighteen," I lied. "Child," was all he countered with. "Not for a long time." "James will make you old faaaast, Lamb," he said, the heroin making his words elongated and sloppy. I was already older. Older than Laurent knew. My body had been around only seventeen years, but my mind, my soul, my motherfucking spirit had seen and experienced way too much. I was an old woman. I was sitting in a rocking chair while young fuck-heads changed my shitty old-person diaper. I was in a box. My body was finally rotting. I was "You have gorgeous eyes." I looked back at him. He was staring at me now. I looked away and said, "You don't want me." Just the very tip of his index finger touched the center of my hand. My eyes were drawn to him once again. His smile was soft. "I'm no good for you." His arms moved, both at once, searching for something in his clothing. Finally he produced a little white card and gave it to me. "If you need anything" I was sure his business card told me what he did for a living, but I could only focus on the city printed under his name. "You live in Seattle? You drive all the way here to" "James is an old friend, Lamb." I pushed him gently until he was flat on his back. I sat on his naked torso, more to see how he would react than anything else. He held my hips. He was intoxicated beyond the ability to function well and I could've taken advantage of him, but instead I stood up and found James, and let him bend me over a tall wooden chair and fuck me.

 "Where have you been?" I shut the door, knowing I was fucked. Laurent had to drive me home in his expensive car because I'd stayed too late. I lied anyway, because I didn't give a fuck. "I was at work." "No, you weren't. I went to pick you up, but you weren't there." I shrugged, and had made it to the stairs when he got up out of his recliner. "What are those?" He nodded to my upper arms where James' fingers had left marks. I watched his eyes travel up to my shoulder where I knew the evidence of his mouth and teeth were. I smirked. "I was with my boyfriend," I said. I felt sick. My stomach knotted and bile bubbled. "Who's your 'boyfriend?'" he asked and I laughed at him. I took two steps up because he took a step closer to me. "Bella?" "I'm fucking tired. I've got school tomorrow, so I'm going to bed." He was still talking, saying something about how I shouldn't do something and about him having to blah, blah, blah. Bella, you're not being a very good girl. I snorted one glorious line and then pinched my nose. Charlie had gone to bed an hour ago and my fucked mind wouldn't shut up with that motherfucker's voice. Ghost fingers touched me. I fucking smelled grease and cigarettes. Do you want your mother to know just how bad you are? Another snort and another line was gone. I heard myself beg him not to tell her and I felt his big hand tighten on my forearm. Then be a fucking good girl. The last line went up my nose and I wished there was more. The days ticked past and every day I promised myself I wasn't going to get high, or at least, not very high. I knew Charlie was getting fed up. I knew he wouldn't stand for it much longer. If I could just make it through the rest of the school year, I wouldn't have to see Edward. I wouldn't have to be reminded of all the shit he'd made me feel.

But every day I heard that man's voice, and the voice of other men, echoing in my mind, so every day I found myself getting high. I'd missed a lot of work and gave Tyler pretty much all of the money I made. He wasn't fronting me anything. He told me that I had to have the money first. He would taunt me like I was something funny to him. I hated Tyler. No, I didn't hate him. He had things I wanted, things I needed. I needed Tyler. But I hated that I needed him. On the second to last day of school, I took money out of Charlie's wallet and bought some cocaine. On the last day of school, I barely made it in. I was so fucking blown. The only reason I went was because Charlie insisted on dropping me off. The only thing that kept me there was the school administration said they wouldn't tolerate ditching, even on the last day. Summer freedom was so close, I could taste it and the last thing I needed was the school calling Charlie and him going all parental and grounding me again. So I sat next to Edward for the last Biology class of the year. Just like every day, the tension was thick between us. I could feel how badly he wanted to touch me. From my periphery, I could see him looking at me and I swore it took every ounce of self-control to keep from angling myself closer to him. I wanted his thumb to brush the scar on my neck. I wanted his lips against my cheek. I needed to feel the warmth of him next to me. I wanted to look directly in his eyes and forget about all the rest. I wanted to hear him tell me I was pretty and that he loved me. But that was selfish of me. He deserved so much better than anything I could ever give him. He didn't need me. I was toxic and eventually he'd become sick from my presence in his life. I had to keep reminding myself that while I chose the easy road on most other painful issues, I would not do that when it came to Edward. I wouldn't let myself destroy him further. So I sat there next to him, tension in every part of my body as I clutched the last remnant of my life with Edward. The green rock was in the palm of my left hand. I actually ached when I thought about not having it anymore. I was coming down hard, but I wouldn't get paid until tonight. I wanted to get high, like crazy-high because sitting next to him was too much. Remembering how his flesh felt under my fists and how his face fell when I said he sounded stupid was too much. It outweighed the memory of his lips and his body pressed against me. I wished he wasn't looking at me with longing eyes. I wished he hated me. My stomach knotted as Banner finished wasting time and wished us all a good summer. I breathed heavily and hoped I could get high again soon. Slowly, I brought my fisted hand up to the table and set the rock down. My jaw was tight as I moved my

hand to my lap. Edward took a sharp breath. The other kids practically jumped out of their seats. For a moment, I didn't think he'd take it. I was about to snatch it back up and run out of the room with it, but then, once again, I reminded myself that I was toxic to him. I couldn't keep that damn rock either, because it would always be one little thread that kept me human. And I didn't want that. I wanted no ties. So instead, I stood up and decided that I didn't care if he took it or left it for Banner to pitch. I had to be done with it. I didn't care. But still, my heart hurt as I walked away, and I hoped he took that stupid rock. I begged Tyler to give me more before heading to work. I told him he could come with me and I'd give him the cash right away. "I need the money now, Bella. You know this." "But I need" "Bring. Me. The. Cash." On the way to work, I thought about the scars on James' torso. I thought about Laurent's animal name for me. I thought about anything to keep my mind off of the fact that I needed some shit right fucking now. Tyler was a dick. He was making me go to work, cash my check, go to his house to buy some blow, and then go all the way back to work to catch hell for being late. For whatever reason, I tried to remember what happened to the chunk of marble from my mom's friend. The fuck was his name? Bill. No, Phil. I felt shitty as I completed my tasks, but it felt fucking awesome when I did a line of Tyler's fluffy powder. I hadn't been able to see James in a few days because Charlie was a dick and decided I needed to be babysat like a kid. He didn't make me go to the Cullens', but I had to sit for hours over at the Clearwaters' watching Seth play a video game and hearing Leah bitch me out for that night every fucking chance she got.

I managed to stay at least buzzed the entire time. I wasn't high, but I was definitely feeling very little except annoyance. Every day when Charlie got off of work, he'd come to get me and we'd all gather around Sue's shitty early-eighties dining room table and have dinner. I wanted to puke. They were playing house and it was stupid. They were old for fuck's sake. I checked my glucose and ate enough to satisfy everyone involved, but I refused to engage at dinner. He always asked about my day, as if anything interesting had happened in Sue's boring house. What was I supposed to say? Should I really tell him what was on my mind? Did he want to know that my day was shitty thanks to him and his wonderful pretend family? Did he want to hear how much I hated being stuck here? So I stayed silent. It was all enough to make me want to run so far away that no one would ever find me. One day, two weeks into the summer, I just got up off of the Clearwaters' couch and walked out of the door while Sue baked cookies in the kitchen. I walked all over, but my destination was Tyler's. I was out until midnight because I didn't give a fuck anymore. This wasn't my home and he wasn't my father and I was never going to be the girl everyone wanted me to be. I stumbled loudly into Charlie's house. I'd done a lot of coke tonight. He was waiting for me on the stairs. My smile was big because I knew he was pissed. Any reaction at all from Charlie was fucking funny at this point. I wondered if I said something mean, if he would smack me again. "You're going to rehab, Bella," he said, not even bothering with a greeting or with questioning my whereabouts. I laughed and shook my head. "No, I'm not." He sighed. "Yes, you are. I would love it if you would just stop doing drugs on your own, but you've had ample opportunity to quit and while you got better for a bit, now it just seems like it's gotten worse." I wanted to go upstairs, but he blocked the way, so I moved to the living room, hoping he'd follow and then I could dart up the stairs before he could stop me. He did, but then stopped in the archway and leaned against the jamb. Now I was trapped. "I smoked pot here and there in high school, Bella, but not like you, and marijuana isn't all you're into." Despite feeling anxious and boxed in, I laughed. If only he fucking knew what I was into. If only he knew what drugs I'd brought into his house. "I'm not going to rehab, Charlie." He looked away when he said, "Yes, you are." He pinched and pulled at his mustache. "There's no need for you to pack. Esme was here earlier and did it for you."

What the fuck? She was in my room, touching my things? This was so truly fucked that my breath caught as I realized how planned out all of this was. He wasn't telling me that I would go to rehab tomorrow. He had his shoes on. He had keys in his hands. "Where's my shit?" I was bouncing. I felt ready to fight him with everything I had. I wouldn't freak-out if he came near me, I would just claw him with what little nails I had and kick his shins like a petulant child. He took a deep breath. "By 'shit' are you talking about your clothes or are you talking about the pot, cocaine, and barbiturates Esme found?" Well, fuck me. The last time I saw James, he sent me home with all his weed, saying something about his kid coming over, and as for the pills and the cokeI thought I'd d one all of it. I must've forgotten about them. "I can't believe you went through my shit." His face was hard and his eyes burned. "I can't believe you brought that shit into my house and used it." "So that's it?" I asked, my eyes intentionally wide. "You're packing me up and shipping me off?" I nodded before he could speak again. "Yep, sounds about right. Ship me off so you can't fucking see. Maybe in rehab an orderly can hold me down and make me bleed with this dick and you can find out about that five years later too." His eyes closed. His jaw was tight and for a moment I thought I had him, but then he looked back up, took a deep breath and said, "It's time to go." "Do you know how much I hate you, Charlie?" My voice dripped with anger and disgust. That man had done absolutely nothing for me and yet here he was trying to make me feel like I was a shit daughter. "I'm aware, yes, and I'm sorry." He took a step toward me. "It's time to go. Seattle's quite a trip and it's late." I sat down in his recliner and folded my arms over my chest. "I'm not going." "Yes, you are. One way or the other. You need to get help for your problem." "I didn't realize there was help for having an asshole for a father." "I'll carry you if I have to." "I'll scream." "You can scream, but I hope you won't." He moved toward me again and I recoiled into the chair. "I know you don't like to be touched, Bella, so please don't make me pick you up and carry you." Panic struck. I brought my legs up and wrapped my arms around them. "I don't want to go." I hated the sound of my shaky, scared voice. "But you need to." I shook my head and bit the inside of my lip. "I'll stop, Charlie. I promise. I'll stop right now. I swear I'll

fucking stop. Don'tdon't send me away." I grew frantic. "Bunny," he said as he grew closer, "you have a problem with drugs. I'm sorry, but I can't believe the promises of an addict. I just can't." Even though I didn't want to acknowledge it, his voice was pained. "But" "Bella, please, we need to go." Holy shit. He was seriously going to drive me to Seattle for rehab. He was going to drive me there in his police cruiser. The closer he got, the more panic I felt. I kicked my right foot out and it connected with his thigh. It didn't hurt him, but I wasn't really trying to. I just didn't want him to come closer, so my foot stopped his progression. "I need my insulin." "It's in a cooler bag on the steps." Everything was planned. His hands were curled in a loose fist , which let me know he was prepared for anything. I wondered if he would put me in handcuffs if I resisted. "Fine," I heard myself say, "I'll go." I pointed at him. "Take a step back." When he did, I stood up on shaky legs and shoved my hands in the pockets of my jeans. "Do you have anything on you?" "What?" "Drugs. Do you have drugs?" "No." I did, however, have Laurent's card in my pocket. "If you have any, give them to me now. I know you don'tI don't want you toYou'll be searched when we get there. Esme's already explained yoursituation to them and they've assured me that you'll be searched by a woman." I clutched the card tightly. "I don't have anything." It was true. I'd done what I had. "Let's just go." He followed closely as I picked up the insulin bag and when I stepped out the front door, my spine straightened as I felt his hand take my elbow. I let him touch me because I knew that if I ran from him now, I'd have nowhere to go in this crappy little town. But in Seattle, Laurent would help me.

I sat silent in the cruiser for hours, clutching the cooler bag. I panicked half a dozen times and thought about jumping from the moving vehicle. Logic won out every time. Once we were in the city limits, I knew I needed to get the fuck out of the car. "I have to pee," I said as we passed a few gas stations. "You'll have to wait." I grit my teeth. "I don't have to do anything. If you won't stop, I'll pee right here, right now." "Bella" "You think I won't?" I turned to him, my face twisted up into a sneer. "I have to pee." It took him a full minute to make up his mind. When he did, he pulled into a well-lit gas station and took my arm again once I got out. "You can leave the bag in the car," he said, his voice dangerously even. I looked around, trying to think of my best option to get away. I could yell and scream and say horrible things about him to draw attention, but I didn't want that. I just wanted to slip away. His jaw was tense and his eyes were bright. "Put the bag down, please." Again, I shook my head and I could tell by the look on his face that it was now or never. I could either make my move, or find myself in rehab, so I kicked his leg. I used every bit of force I had. He hissed and his hand loosened. I stomped on his other foot and pushed, forcing him out of my way. I ran and I ran and I ran until I couldn't hear him anymore. I ran until I was out of breath. I ran until I was confused as to where I was. I found a shady convenience store and convinced the man to let me use his phone. I called Laurent on his cell. He said to stay where I was and he'd get me. His car was nice. It was different than the one I'd been in before. It was expensive. He smoothed down my hair when I got in. I flinched on instinct and then relaxed and pressed my head into his palm. I was jittery. I was too high on adrenaline. I needed something else. His apartment was nice; expensive like his car. "What is that?" he asked, nodding toward the orange cooler bag still in my hands. "Insulin." I put it in his refrigerator, and then went over and grabbed his arms. I was coming down hard and I felt fucking sick. "I don't have cocaine, Lamb, but I'll get you some." Extracting himself from my clutches, he smoothed back my hair and then took me by the hand and led me to his bedroom. "You need sleep." He opened the drawer next to his bed, and handed me a pill. I took it with the water he gave me. I

didn't know what it was, but I trusted him and sleep sounded wonderful. Laurent kissed my forehead and tucked the covers in around me. "Sleep and I'll be back when you wake."

Chapter 61: Delete Edward As soon as I could, I went on my computer. Bella was angry and upset, but that was only because I couldn't adequately explain myself. I wasn't offended that she didn't give me the chance. My speech impediment was enough to aggravate the holiest of saints, so it was a wonder that it took this long to annoy her. E-mailing would give me the opportunity to be succinct; I could type out all of the words I could not say. She would read the e-mail and she'd let me explain further with instant messages. She would forgive me and then feel bad about the role she played in our fight and I would tell her that I forgave her and we would be fine. Dear Bella, I'm sorry that I hurt and upset you, and you thought I called you something I didn't. I didn't mean to say that you were dirty. I struggled here because the most important part of this note would be me telling her why I thought the act was dirty. I didn't want to type it. My history with No, that didn't sound right, did it? "My history?" How could I type these things? I deleted that and started over. I didn't want you to do it because the act is dirty, not you. My brain was sluggish and it took me long seconds to come up with simple words. I don't want you to do that. I understand in the past you've probably I didn't think I could write this. How could I write this? How could I type the words that would form the sentence that would tell her the things she needed to know? In the end I sat there staring at the screen, my mind wandering back and forth from the past to the present, searching for ways to paint a picture that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I had to present it in a way that gave her an idea of what happened, but wouldn't repulse her enough to stay away from me. I didn't want her to stay away from me.

I missed her already. I couldn't lose Bella, so I took a deep breath and started typing quickly without regard for how painful the words or the meaning behind them were. I deleted the last line and started again. I know your history and how those men probably made you do that. I'm sure you chose to do that in other situations and I don't judge you for it. I hope you don't judge me when I tell you that I've done that too and it was dirty and wrong and I hated it. I don't want you to do it because you're not dirty and I don't want that from you. I know that other people like it. I understand that most guys are anxious to have their girlfriends do it for them, and that some girls like doing it for their boyfriends, but I don't want that. It shouldn't be in your mouth. This whole e-mail was awkward and strange. I hated every word of it because it wasn't natural. I deleted the sentence about her mouth. Sex is already difficult for reasons I hope you understand, but having you put your mouth I couldn't help my reaction, Bella, and I'm sorry. I don't want you to do the things men have forced you to do in the past. I don't want you to do the dirty things I had to. I love you and I don't want you to be mad at me. Please don't be mad at me. I need you. I'll try to get better at being who you need me to be. I promise I'll make you happy. I love you, Bella. Love, Edward Despite the sedatives, I was up most of the night staring at the screen. I deleted various parts of the e-mail, only to retype it minutes later. It was around two on Monday morning when I deleted the whole thing and started over. Bella, I love you. I don't think you're dirty. I'm sorry that I'm not a normal boy for you. I hope you know how much I want to be. I don't think that you're dirty; I think the act is dirty. Joseph said he would die if I didn't do those things. He was very sick and I loved him. I believed him when he told me that I could help him feel better.

I didn't like it from the very first time, but Joseph helped me every day and I didn't want him to be sick or to die. This e-mail was heavy with redundancy, but I couldn't help it. I hate that I had to do that. I hate that I think it's dirty, and I hate that when you did it, I couldn't think of it as a gift, but as a burden on you. I don't want it done by you or anybody else. It makes me sick to think about it. I'm sorry. I hope you understand. It's not you I think is dirty, but the act. I love you and think you're the best thing in my life. Please don't be mad at me for long. Please understand that it wasn't about you. It's about something that is completely shattered within me. I love you, Edward I deleted it an hour later. Finally I wrote an e-mail that was simple and to the point. Bella, I love you and I don't want to be without you. The thing you did was dirty, not you. Joseph was sick and told me he'd die unless I did that for him. I didn't want him to die, no matter how dirty I felt. Please understand that I didn't judge you, but I can't let someone as good as you do nasty things like that. I love you with everything I am and I need you to be with me. Please be with me. I'm sorry. I love you. Edward I clicked send before I deleted this one too. Instantly I had a new e-mail. Mailer Daemon: Delivery Unsuccessful I tried again and again, but always with the same result.

I tried to leave her an instant message, but it told me that it couldn't find a user with the screen name of Imabell. I felt sick. I didn't know what I needed to do. How could she forgive me if she refused my e-mails and instant messages? Those were the ways we could communicate unhindered. I could always be understood when I wrote it out. She always knew what I meant when my stuttering voice wasn't involved. I didn't go to school, but later Bella came to my house accompanied by Esme and her father. She held a box that contained everything I ever gave her. The details of the conversation eluded me, but I knew she said she no longer wanted me, and that when she said she loved me, they'd been nothing but words, and she didn't want anything in that box. Bella didn't want me. The rest of the school year went by in a blur of hand-biting, sedation, and watching Bella spiral down. She came to school high. She would get high at school. I had to sit next to her when she couldn't sit still because whatever was in her system forced her body to move. I had to sit next to her and look at the marks on her body; the marks someone else put there. I didn't know who had grabbed her like that. I didn't know who it was that had bitten and dug his fingernails into the skin of her neck. But someone had. And she had let them. How had her father not seen these things? For a moment, I thought she was involved with Jacob's friend Paul, but she'd only pulled him out of the cafeteria one time. It was different than when she had been involved with Jacob. She stopped coming over to see Esme on Friday nights. Her father would come over other nights, but never with her. I barely spoke anymore. I hated the sound of my voice. I took all the medication Esme and Dr. Eleazar prescribed to me. None of it helped. I was stuck inside my head. I was stuck reliving things I didn't want to. I was stuck knowing that Bella didn't love me. I was just waiting for Alice to leave me too.

Biology was now the worst part of my day. I hated the distance between us. I hated that I had to sit next to her for the entire hour and watch her pretend I wasn't there. I knew it wasn't me. I knew whatever was going on, that it was about her and her reaction to me, but not directly about me. The bruises on her body, the marks on her skin, the constant state of drugged sedation, told me that Bella was experiencing something that stemmed from a much deeper place than anything I could have brought on by myself. It hurt because I wanted to help her. I needed to, but she wouldn't let me. She was acting as though I never existed. I wondered if it was really even Bella inside her body anymore or if her soul and self had gone on holiday and left a brain-dead zombie in place to guide her. On the last day of school, Bella left the little green rock on the Biology table. I couldn't breathe when I saw it. I didn't want to take it, but she just left it there. I hadn't known that it wasn't in the box. The box still sat by my door, untouched. The green rock was now back on my bookshelf. It looked odd and out of place. It wasn't supposed to be there. It hurt to see it. Then one day at breakfast, Carlisle gave me a cursory examination, as if my wounds and illness were visible. Esme was over early. She sat next to me. Something was completely wrong. I didn't ask, because that would require the use of my voice, so I just sat there anxiously waiting for them to tell me what was going on. It was something about Bella. I could tell by the expression on Esme's face. She looked tired and pale, like she'd been up too long. It couldn't be about anything else. "Bella ran away last night." While my breath caught, I struggled to remain stoic. I couldn't look at either of them. I wanted to cry, but I found that I couldn't. My mind kept supplying negative chatter such as, "you should've seen this coming," and "you drove her away like you drive them all away." It wasn't a wonder she left me. I had too many issues for someone normal to handle and way too many for someone who had her own issues to deal with. I pushed her too much and didn't give her enough. "Edward, please speak." I looked at Esme and then Carlisle. I wondered what they wanted me to say. I didn't want to say anything.

Bella was gone, not just from my life, but from this town. She was gone and there was nothing to say about it. I stood up and left the kitchen. I could hear them calling after me but it was fuzzy and distant to my muffled ears. I sat in my room. I liked my room. It was mine. I ended up not sleeping for days. I didn't know how many; everything bled together. The days bled like my hands. Finally, after suppressing my need to communicate all of the swirling, dark emotions within me, I emerged from my room and went straight to the piano. There were people in the house, but I didn't know if it was just my family or others. I didn't care. I played every song I knew that conveyed the emotion I was feeling. I played for hours, maybe even an entire day, without ceasing. I didn't look around me. I didn't hear anyone if they came into the room. I was driven to release what was inside. But the piano didn't seem to help. I didn't feel better. I looked down at the keys and saw the little droplets of smeared blood from my raw hands and it didn't help. I wanted to bleed more. Pain brought purity and I wasn't in enough pain to ever be pure. I hated these hands that could do nothing right; these hands that were the instruments of the Devil and his demons. Without even thinking about it, I stood up and moved to the side of the grand piano. My right hand curled around the lip as I stared at the piano strings. If I ran my hands over them quick enough, they would cut me. My hands would bleed and it would stain the metal strings and the unfinished wood. If I unstrung them, I could pull them across my skin and slice my flesh. It would cut deep, maybe deep enough that I wouldn't be able to use my hands ever again. My left hand was in my mouth as I contemplated the piano. My teeth tore at the skin between my thumb and index fingers. The metallic-tasting blood coated my tongue and I knew that anyone who saw me would be disgusted, but I didn't care. It was comforting. Then, without warning, my hand was out of my mouth. It pushed the stick forcefully and the lid came crashing down. The strings and hammers were hidden from me and I grit my teeth against the pain as my right hand was smashed. It wasn't enough to break the bones, but it was enough to satisfy me for the moment.

I went up to my room and sat on my couch for what seemed like days. People came in and out of my room, but I ceased to care. It wasn't really my room anyway. It was the space given to me by Carlisle. It was his. He could enter whenever he wanted. It'd just been an illusion that it was mine in the first place. At one point, I thought I wanted to listen to music, but even the thought made me feel physically ill. All of it was vain, but even if I put the teachings of my father aside, most of my music made me think of her. Red Hot Chili Peppers, Johnny Cash, Camille Saint-Seans, Bonnie Raitt, and Band of Horses were all out. I couldn't even think about Otis Redding, and Jeff Buckley was completely out of the question. I stood up, my body feeling stiff. I went to the bookshelf and took out the art book she'd looked at the first or second time she'd been in my room. I flipped to Flaming June and then to A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. I remembered the field trip I'd taken with Alice. It was before they pulled me out of regular school. It was on a Monday and the museum was quiet. There were people milling around, but Alice kept me calm. I remembered the awe I'd felt as I saw all of the works contained within the building. I'd never seen so many pictures in all my life. I felt sick to my stomach from all the people around me, but my mind was alight with the possibilities. People had created these things. Some of them depicted Biblical stories I recognized. I remembered standing in front of A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte and feeling very small. I imagined myself in the picture, standing next to the little girl in the center, bathed in light. In a world full of small dots, I would be fine brush strokes as well. The little girl could be my sister and the woman with the red umbrella would be my mother. She would let me play by the water and wouldn't get angry when the cuffs of my pants became muddy. Maybe the little girl was Bella before she'd gotten so damaged. I could've saved her. I could've taken her hand and run away with her, and we would both be brush strokes in a sea of dots. The woman with the red umbrella would never find us. I ripped the picture from the book and did the same with Flaming June. Pictures were vain. I continued stripping my room of things that shouldn't have been there, the flurry of motion causing my stiff and sore body to ache. Everything in my room reminded me of her. It was horrible. Instead of finding her invisible fingerprints on my things comforting, I found it heartbreaking and painful. After hours, I was left with a desk, a bed, my bedside table, my couch, and religious books. Everything else was ripped down and tossed out into the hallway. Everything but the little green rock.

It remained, marking the place where Tolkien used to be. It had hurt when I removed the framed picture of her lonely ear. When my room was complete, I knelt down at the foot of my bed and prayed for forgiveness. "Edward," I heard and after long minutes, I flicked my eyes to the left, "if you don't stop this, if you don't start talking, they're going to send you to the hospital." Alice whispered the last word. I recognized what she was saying and what it meant, but I didn't have the energy to panic or even care. They could send me there and dope me up and maybe my thoughts would slow and I could find some peace. Maybe the change in scenery would clear my mind of warring thoughts. Maybe I could purge my father's words from my mind and think on of my own again. "can't just shut down." Carlisle was in my room with Esme. I didn't care. It was his room. He might have given it to me years ago, but it still wasn't mine. "Edward, I need you to" I didn't bother listening to whatever else Esme was going to say. I wouldn't respond and I couldn't help that my mind was occupied. "Edward, please! Stop doing this. Start talking again! They'll put you in an institution! They're already talking about it," Alice pleaded, holding my hands. I wished her nails would dig into my skin. I wished she'd have one of her "episodes" and cut me instead of herself. "Please don't let them do that." I remained silent, even though her voice was pained and painful. Being admitted into a mental facility seemed preferable to staying here in this room. Even with everything taken out, it still reminded me of her and what once was. Maybe I needed intense therapy and drugs. Maybe I needed to be removed from this place of supposed comfort. Institutions were sterile. They were whitewashed and held no history. They were clean and peaceful.

She had never been there. For the first time in a very long time, my cell phone rang. It took me a few moments to recognize it and then to find it. I had removed everything, except for what was within the drawer in the table beside my bed. I finally pulled the phone out and answered the call. I didn't speak. "Edward?" Her voice was breathy and just barely there. My heart raced. My body surged with pure energy. I struggled as I tried to push out too many words at once. My voice was rough. My throat hurt from the effort, but finally I heard myself speak. "B-B-B-B-B-Bella? W-w-w-w-w-w-where ar-r-r-re yyyyyyyou?" The line was silent and I thought I'd imagined the call. "I'm gone," she whispered. She was high. I pulled the phone from my ear, but the screen told me nothing of where she was. It just said "unavailable." "I-I-I-I-I'll c-c-c-c-c-come gggg-gggg-gggget yyyou. W-w-w-where are yyyyyou?" "I lied to you." I still couldn't breathe. I wanted to run to my car. I wanted to speed to wherever she was and hold her. She said something else but the phone cut out momentarily and the only thing I heard was "can'tmy toeshappy you" And then there was nothing. I sat there for a long time, composing and deleting the letters I wanted to write to her in my head. My entire existence played out behind my eyes and I relived every pain, every false hope, every defeat. My brain functioned well enough to recognize that Esme told me Alice was back in the hospital. She had cut herself too deeply and I hadn't answered the door when she knocked. I felt sick. Bella was gone. Alice could've died. I couldn't be here anymore. I didn't want to be here anymore.

There was too much. I needed to go. For five years they told me that it would get better; that I would get better. It hadn't. I hadn't. I needed to leave. I needed to not exist in this space. I would never be able to say it all, so I wrote it down. I set it on my bed and waited for Dr. Eleazar. He stopped by just about every day now. He never entered my room, but would just lean against the doorjamb. I never spoke to him. He would read it. We would shred it. And then we could deal with it. I didn't look at him when he arrived. I nodded to the bed and waited quietly as he entered my room carefully and read it. Somehow he coaxed me from my spot on the couch and got me down to Carlisle's study. Carlisle and Esme were there. They both looked so tired. I briefly wondered if they always sat in here together, waiting on my status report from Dr. Eleazar. He motioned for me to sit down in my usual chair, but I chose to stand. I stood next to the bookshelf, facing away from all of them as my finger ran over the spine of the ancient Bible Carlisle had shown me a long time ago. "I think it's time to discuss some options for Edward." Dr. Eleazar's voice was calm and I liked that. "Things aren't working for him right now." There was a pause and I felt sick as I heard the leather chairs squeak as people shifted in them. "He has expressed an interest in going to Port Angeles to complete some inpatient therapy." "What?" Carlisle's voice was loud and I wished he'd quiet down. "He told you this?" I turned just to see his expression. I didn't look away when he looked directly at me. "You told him that?" I nodded. Dr. Eleazar spoke again. "He didn't say it. He still isn't speaking, so he wrote it down." "You want to go?" Carlisle asked.

I nodded again. "But there're no precautions there. There are people" I watched without emotion as Esme put her hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps that's what he needs, Carlisle." She knelt down and took his hand. His kept looking at me. "You want to go?" he asked again. Carlisle liked to fix things, like Dr. Eleazar said long ago, but he seemed upset that I was choosing the hospital. Why did he feel like he failed when he used medicine and hospitals to treat and heal other people? This time I knew I needed to speak, to use words to convince him. "I c-c-can't k-k-k-k-keep ggggggoing liiiiike this. I d-d-d-d-don't w-w-w-wwwwwant to be here." Everyone was silent as they processed that I'd spoken. They hadn't heard my voice in a while. Finally, Dr. Eleazar asked, "By 'here,' do you mean Carlisle's or do you mean here, as in 'alive?'" I looked down at my bare feet, the tears I hadn't been able to produce for a while finally spilling. I had no words to convey how much I wished I was with my mother. "Oh, God," Carlisle said. I looked at him as he clutched Esme's hand tightly and I pinched my eyes shut, unable to bear witness to the pain I was causing. The car ride felt long. No one tried to force conversation. Trees passed quickly by the windows. We visited Alice in the Forks Hospital. She and Emmett had said goodbye to me, but I couldn't return it. Even as I watched Alice turn her small frame into Emmett's large body as she sat on the hospital bed, tears streaming down her face, I could feel nothing beyond shame that I was the cause of those tears. My body felt like it was not my own. I felt relaxed and calm, even though I was inside a vehicle that sped me closer and closer to the unknown. My thoughts still raced, but something stopped the insanity of my brain from translating it to my body. I was calm walking into the hospital. I was calm as Esme and Carlisle checked me in. I didn't panic as the staff looked at me or asked questions. I didn't panic when someone said that I would be on a twenty-four-hour watch for now. I didn't have any second thoughts until I was shown to my room and I saw a second bed that had a picture taped onto the wall next to the pillow. I turned around, trying to make my way back out, but Esme's light hand on my arm stopped me. Carlisle was right outside the door. He wasn't blocking it, but just his presence there stopped me as much as Esme's touch. I wanted to be better for him. He wanted so much for me to be able do regular things and to be normal.

It hurt to think of all the ways he'd tried to help over the years. It pained me to remember how he tried to make my life comfortable; how he'd reacted when he learned that I wanted to come to the hospital. But his reaction was part of the reason why I needed to be here. As much as he wanted to fix me, he also wanted me to be comfortable. In his quest to give me all of the things I needed to feel safe and secure, he had created a cocoon that coddled and cradled me. I knew he could see it. I knew Esme had probably spoken to him several times, but the fact that he loved and cared for me kept him from being able to intellectualize the situation. I had to remember that I was choosing the hospital because I needed to get better, otherwise my life just needed to be over. They wouldn't put me in a room with someone who would hurt me. I knew that Dr. Eleazar would have arranged for my safety. Whoever my roommate was, he wouldn't hurt me. I had to trust in that belief, otherwise I would be doomed from the start. And I couldn't keep going the way I was. I missed my mother. I missed my brother. I even missed the routine of my father's rules. Those people, their rules, their faults and flaws, would never be in my life ever again. I missed Bella and I had no way of knowing if I'd ever see her again. My life was my own and I was tired of spending it hiding. It was amazing how normal I felt in a house full of freaks. My sessions with Dr. Eleazar continued just as they had in Forks, except they were more intense. He asked me questions about things that were hard to articulate. There were times when I couldn't write them down either. I met with him every other day. On the alternate days, I met with other kids who were like me. I didn't speak, I just listened. I was horrified. These kids came from all around. The hospital was renowned for adolescent mental health issues, so there were kids from Seattle, Tacoma, Portland, even a few from Canada. I actually had several groups I went to, some for specific past experiences. Those were more difficult to handle. I had a session with a speech pathologist twice a week, just like in Forks, but it wasn't Ms. Rice. We didn't read aloud. We worked on sounds. It was back to the basics and I found myself saying "La, la, la and Fa, fa, fa and Na, na, na" over and over. My days were structured and routine.

I liked it. It felt good to know exactly when lunch would be served. It was wonderful to know exactly which part of the day I'd be expected to use my voice. My roommate's name was Marcus and like me, he never spoke. The first night sleeping in the same room was difficult, but he fell asleep before I did and when my body and mind finally shut down and I passed into quiet sleep, I awoke unharmed. The next night was the same and the night after that too, until I felt secure that he was not a threat. Even though I felt fairly safe, I didn't want him on my side of the room, just as I never crossed the invisible line and entered his space. I found out that there were single rooms in this hospital. It made me upset at first and I got angry at Dr. Eleazar, but he reminded me that he was the doctor and he made the suggestion that I share a room for a reason. Since I had signed up for this stay and put myself in his hands, I couldn't say anything more about it. In the same session he asked me, "What's the absolute worst thing that has ever happened to you?" That was easy. "B-Bella lllleaving." "No," he said. That made me angry, but then he continued, "That's painful right now. I'm asking you to put your whole life into perspective. What's the worst-" I cut him off because I wasn't stupid and didn't need the question repeated. "B-being b-b-born." His eyebrows rose. "Do you believe that?" "Yes." "What is the best thing that has ever happened to you?" "Mmmmmeeting B-Bella," I said without thinking about it. "Really?" "Yes." "She ranks higher than discovering music, art and literature?" "Yes." "Higher than being removed from your father's house?" "Yes." "Even though she left?" My thoughts stopped racing. I didn't know how to respond.

"Sssssshe'll come b-b-back." He took off his glasses and regarded me. "Do you believe that?" I wanted to shout that I did believe it, but the little voice inside my head whispered that I had no way of knowing if she would. There was a very good chance that she would die and that I would have to live with the last words she spoke to me before she ran away. She said my hand-biting was disgusting. I could feel it coming on. There was panic that was slowly rising from every part of my body. I could never see her again. She would be gone. Just like Alice would be gone soon. Just like Kate was gone. Just like my mom. "Remember that you are in control of how you feel." I focused on my breathing, Beethoven flooding my mind. Slowly the panic ebbed and I felt better. "Tell me what specifically you want to change." When I could finally answer without gasping for breath, I said, "Everything." His smile was soft. "Tell me one thing about yourself that you like." I thought for a minute. "I-I-I-I'm k-k-kind." "Good. What else?" With a sigh, I thought again, my mind and body feeling sluggish. "I'm smart." "Excellent and what else?" "I'm c-c-c-compassionate?" Dr. Eleazar sat back and replaced his glasses on his nose. "Are you asking me if you're compassionate or are you telling me?" I knew what he was doing. I knew he wanted me to say all the good things about myself to boost my self-esteem and help buoy my spirit. "I-I-I-I know there are g-g-good things ab-b-bout me." "Did having Bella in your life validate some of those things?" I nodded. "Are you angry with your mother?"

The shift in conversation took me by surprise, but I stammered, "N-n-n-n-no." It was an automatic response. "Do you wish she hadn't done what she did?" I wished she would've taken me with her. "I w-w-w-wish she d-d-didn't lllleave me." "Why do you think your mother used drugs?" I shrugged. I had no idea except that it was an escape from my father and his unyielding rules. "Do you think she was involved with drugs before she met your father?" I shook my head. "Sssssshe m-m-mmmmet hhhhim in sssssschool." "Did she talk much about how they met?" I thought back to the things my mother would tell me before my father's rules and routines had completely taken over all of our lives. "Sssshe thought hhhhhe w-w-was hhhhandsome and p-p-p-people just sssssort of g-g-g-gravitated t-to him." "What do you think he saw in your mother?" My mother was beautiful and she was kind, and she had an amazing capacity to love. She had a beautiful voice and I remembered how much she did for everyone. Even high, she took care of all of us. She would take punishments meant for us. "Mmmy mmmm-mmm-mmmmom loved me." It wasn't even close to an answer to the question he'd posed, but I needed him to know it. I needed to know it. It seemed like all men did was hurt and lie to me and all women did was leave. I didn't give him time to respond. "B-B-Bella said she lllll-llloved m-me and then said they w-w-were jjjust w-w-w-w-words." "Do you believe that she loved you?" "I w-w-want to." "But you don't?" I shrugged. "Bella is a very wounded person." "I kn-know." "I'm sure you understand that it's very difficult for people to find themselves worthy of things like love and acceptance." "D-d-do you think sssshe lllloved me?"

He sighed deeply and folded his hands in his lap. "I think if she didn't, then it's more a reflection upon her. You are a person worthy of love, Edward, and I'm sure Bella knows that." We were silent for over a minute. I didn't know what to say and then finally he asked, "What caused your break-up?" I felt sick. "She t-t-t-tried t-t-t-t-t-to g-g-g-g-ggg-gggg" I felt like I couldn't breathe again. My hands balled into fists and I hit them against my thighs. "Would you like to write it down?" I shook my head. "That bad?" No, it wasn't that bad, but I didn't think I could write the words any easier than speaking them. "Was it something sexual?" I nodded, thankful that he guessed right. "And it made you uncomfortable?" I nodded again. "And you reacted in a way that hurt her." I stared at him, shocked. How did he find out? Then I watched him as he studied me and realized that he hadn't meant physically, but emotionally. "She hhhhhhit m-m-me. She p-p-p-pI t-t-t-took her hands and I sssssshoved her b-b-b-back a-a-a-a-a-anda-a-a-and I" "She hit you?" I nodded. "And you defended yourself?" I didn't like the way it sounded, so I shook my head. "You tried to restrain her?" I nodded. I had wanted to control her. I felt sick. "Whatever it was that she tried to do, was this something you told her you were uncomfortable with?" When I said nothing, he asked, "How much of your history did you disclose to her before you began a sexual relationship?"

I didn't want to answer because at the very beginning of our sexual relationship, she didn't know that anything like that had happened to me and even at the end, when she knew my brother hadeven at the end, I'd never been specific. "C-c-can w-w-w-we be done?" I was relieved as he nodded. "But for next time, I want you to do something for me." "W-w-what?" "I want you to write letters to your mother and your brother. I want you to explain to each of them how their actions, good and bad, have affected your life." "B-b-b-but they're d-d-d-dead." He gave me another soft smile turned. "The letters aren't for them."

Chapter 62: Lying in the Hands of God Edward Dear Mom, My therapist said I needed to write you a letter, even though you'll never read it. It feels stupid to write you because I know you're gone. Not only that, but you left in a way that ensured you'd never have use of your eyes, or anything on your face again, so how would you read the letter? When your face shattered and your brain stopped functioning, did your spirit at least feel something? Did it at least become unhindered enough to realize what it was that you did? I'm not mad that you killed yourself, Mom. That was your choice to make. I hate the choice you made, but you made a lot of choices I hate. I have no one to help me understand why you made them. I can theorize; so can my therapist, but you've left only bits and pieces of yourself in my memory. I know you loved me. I know you loved Joseph. I can only speculate that at one time you loved my father. You sang to me even though it was dangerous for you. You took the belt for me more times than I can remember. My father explained the old marks on your body to the police by saying you came from an abusive home. Was that just a lie? If I found my grandparents in Ireland, would they be kind? Do they know what happened to you? Do they even know that I exist? Why didn't you take me with you? Did you know what you were doing when you turned that gun from me? Did you realize what kind of life you were condemning me to? You knew that my father wouldn't get better. You had to know that he would continue to descend into his madness. Why didn't you tell somebody? You could've told them what was happening in that dark house and still escaped the same way.

You had a voice and you didn't use it. I know what he did. I remember how he made you feel and I understand how hard it is to overcome that, but Joseph and I were just little kids. If I had kids and something bad was happening to them, I would make it stop. Not just for me, but for them. Dr. Eleazar asked me if I was angry with you. Bella's asked that too. Esme's asked the same question, in a roundabout way, so many times I can't count. I always say no, but I think I am. I realize that you weren't in the best place mentally to take others into consideration. Killing yourself isn't rational, so there's no sense in pretending that you were anything close to that, especially with your love of drugs. But you killed yourself in my room. While I sat on the bed. I was trapped for hours with your body blocking the door. At seven-years-old I knew the exact color of brains. At seven-years-old I could describe the smell of fresh death. I think I'm mad at you for leaving me alone like that. Before it happened, you sang to me and it filled my heart and helped take the sting of punishment away. Before it happened, you brought me food and helped me say a true blessing; not the one my father taught me, but the one that actually meant something. Before it happened, even when I watched you push needles into your arms, I felt like the world couldn't be that bad since something as pretty and kind as you existed. Before it happened, you made me feel loved. You called me "Eddie-bear" and it was special. I was special before you killed yourself. And then you took a gun and held it to your head. You looked at me when your finger depressed the trigger. You knew I was watching. Did you not realize I would be stuck with the aftermath? Why would you do that? I hate you for taking yourself out of my life. I hate you for putting blood and brains on my door and staining my carpet. I looked at the stain every day for almost five years. I hate you for the drugs you put in your body. I understand why you did though. They dulled the pain of the life you were imprisoned by, but you could have told someone. I guarantee that if I did a search, there would be at least a dozen organizations in Chicago dedicated to helping women and their children get away from someone like my father. But you didn't look. You didn't speak. You huddled in the bathroom and pushed poison through your veins and told me not to tell him. But he always knew.

And I would have to watch him hit you for it. I learned a long time ago to change behavior as quickly as possible. As soon as I realized that it caused me to be whipped, I stopped. I changed if it was possible, but you continued. You let him do that to you. You let Joseph and me watch him do it. I'm mad at you, Mom. I wish I could just be mad at you, but I love you. I wish I could just love you, but I'm mad at you. Why did you do that? I hate this stupid letter because you'll never read it. You'll never read it because you're dead. This exercise is stupid and I hope Dr. Eleazar reads this stupid letter and knows how stupid I think it is. Thinking about you makes me hurt, and I'm tired of hurting all the time. Can you see me from where you are? Am I a terrible disappointment? Love, Edward. The letter to my mother drew out quite a lot of emotion as I wrote it. I knew I had to write another one to my brother before seeing Dr. Eleazar, but I had to take a break. I couldn't write it in my current state. Before writing to my mom, I genuinely had no idea how angry I was about what she'd done. I didn't think the letter even scratched the surface, to be honest. I wasn't looking forward to writing to my brother, but knew that it had to be done. I'd put my welfare in Dr. Eleazar's hands and this is what he'd asked of me. Dear Joseph, I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about you. On the one hand you were my first and only friend and you led me through the darkness for such a long time. On the other, despite what I'd been taught, you weren't the light of Jesus, but the darkness I had to overcome. The things you did and the things you made me do have disabled me. I'm dysfunctional because of them. Did you even know what it was you were asking of me? Did you know what it would do to me? You died anyway. Are you sorry? My doctor seems to think that you may have been acting something out that happened to you. Did it

happen to you? I don't know if I want to know. I don't know if I care. Just so you know, I would have preferred if you had taken the strap and whipped me because I wouldn't be left with the guilt I feel now. I wouldn't have the shame that colors my every thought. I would be able to be a normalno, not normal, but at least, functioning seventeen -year-old. My birthday is in two days. Do you remember what our father used to say? Do you think it's true? I think it is. It feels true. It feels like I turn the purest of things into nothing more than the Devil's quicksand. I hate you sometimes, and I love you others. I wish I could just hate you. My life would be easier that way. But you saved me. You probably saved me and helped me more times than you hurt me. Why didn't you just let him kill me? Both you and Mom saved me from death, but for what? It seems as though the peace that comes with death would be better than the half-life I've been trying to lead. I'm sorry if he did something to you to make you do what you did to me. You lied to me and I hate you for that. You constantly helped me avoid his wrath and I love you for that. You took away something I don't even have words for and I'm happy that you're dead because of it. You saved me and never gave up trying to make many aspects of my life better and I'm sorry you're dead. I miss you sometimes. I wonder if you know now what your actions have done to me. Can you see who I've become? Do you have any sense of the confusion I feel every single day of my life? I hate what you did and what you made me do, but I love you. I wish I could've saved you because even though I wish I didn't, most of the time, I believe what he said about you being the light of the world. Edward. Knowing that Dr. Eleazar didn't ask for it, I wrote a letter to my father anyway. I knew he'd want me to do it at some point, and I was on a roll. Marcus was sitting over on his bed, gripping his elbows tightly. He had his iPod on, and his ear buds plugged in. If I listened hard enough, I could hear the music, but I hadn't wanted to listen to music at

all since Bella left. I turned my focus back to the blank pages on my lap and the pen in my hand. I didn't know how to start it because my father wasn't "dear," but I couldn't just say, "Father," and move on. How should I begin? I just went with the first thing that came to mind. I hate you. I can't call you "dad," even if Joseph did. I don't know if you loved me when I was a baby or if you hated me from conception. Could you tell when I was in the womb that I was evil? For most of my life I've thought what you said meant something. I thought that you were correct, but then little by little more of the world was revealed to me and I realized, that who you were and what you taught weren't right. How can a child be evil? How could I be darkness? How could God hate me when all I've ever done was try to be right? I realize now that what you did was wrong and shameful. You are the sinner. God doesn't love you. And if he does, I don't care if he hates me. Your God is not mine. The following is a list of things that I hate about you or that I hate you for: I hate that you never said one nice thing to me. I hate that you hit my mother. I hate that you hit my brother. I hate that you hit me. I hate that I couldn't play in the mud. I've been assured that it's somewhat of a rite of passage for a child, and I couldn't even step in a puddle. I hate that I cleaned for you. I hate that I never cleaned enough for you. I hate that you made me read the Bible while you beat me. I hate that broom. I hate that belt. I hate that all that happened to you was going to prison when you killed my brother and maimed me for life.

I hate that you told me the Devil marked me when really it was you. You told me that my mother's red hair should have been a warning. You said that my red hair was a sign of the same wickedness, but I wasn't wicked. I was just a little boy. I hate that my mom couldn't sing if she wanted to. I hate that you kept music from me. I hate that I'm a freak because there are times when your thoughts dominate my mind and I have difficulty figuring out what I think. I hate your hands and your feet. I hate your voice. I hate your lectures, your sermons, and your lessons. I hate that I believed you. I hate that sometimes I still do. I hate that many days I wish that I hadn't been born. I hate you. Sometimes I try to find something positive in what you gave me but I come up with nothing. I'm sure I would still be a huge disappointment if you knew me today. I still stutter. I read and I play music. I don't go to church. My hair is still red. I understand that something in your brain is messed up. I understand that you have some kind of illness, but I don't care. I am a pile of dysfunction and I don't know if I'll ever be right. I am a puzzle and I don't know how to put the pieces together. I didn't come with a picture, and all I see are meaningless shapes of color. Every time I think a piece fits, I take a step back and realize that I've stitched a blue piece next to a red piece. Then I see that it was because I wanted them to fit together to make something larger. The pieces never fit; I forced them. You took away so much and I'll never be able to get the past back. I'll always be your son. I will always remember what you've done. Joseph's face and the sound of his last breath will always be with me. I will always remember what my knees felt like as I prayed over my mother's faceless body. I will remember the feel of the strap. I will remember the way your eyes told me you were about to kill me. I will remember the way your fingers felt wrapped around my neck as your fist flew toward me. I will remember the absolute insanity and malice on your face when you turned to me after realizing he was dead. You said that I killed him, but I watched you do it. There is no way I could forget what you did after that.

I've tried to forget. I've tried to block it out, but I remember that you sat on me. I remember what you had in your hands. I remember the night of pain as you wept over Joseph's body, but left me in the corner, unable to move. I hate you. You've infected me with your insanity. You've left me with a rampant virus, corrupting me. There are times when I think of seeing you again and I cower within myself, but there are other times when I think of meeting you and I kill you. There is a deep satisfaction that settles in my chest when I hear you rasp your last breath. I can see the Devil's demons rise from below. I can see their wispy hands reach out and take you. I don't know why you were the way that you were, but you took everything from me. But there are people who give me things. They like me. Carlisle chose me. Alice chose me. Bella chose me. I am not a sinner, just the son of one. I hope that you get well, but either way, if there is a hell, that's where you'll go when your heart stops. I hope it's everything you imagined it to be. Edward. I sat in group, listening as always. There was a girl with long blond hair. She would pull out bits of it as she spoke. Her mother put her in pageants when she was three. By the age of five she thought she was too fat and by ten her entire day was nothing more than a tight schedule of events. Lean breakfast, ballet, yoga, tap dance, shower, lunch, study (home school), ceramics class, gymnastics, public speaking lessons, dinner, study, read, sleep. By fifteen she couldn't function without her mother giving her a task. She spoke of a time when she forgot she had to use the restroom because her mother hadn't asked. As she spoke, she pulled out her hair and rolled it into a ball. I thought she'd go bald soon. Another kid, who I thought was named Peter, but it could have been something else, lost his mother to cancer when he was five and then his father was killed in a gas station hold-up. It was difficult to listen to his recollection of how the bullet exploded into his father's chest. I felt sick when he told us his body was sticky with his father's blood. Another girl was an addict. She reminded me of Bella. There was so much rage that came from her. She was very angry that she was here. She called us all a bunch of retards that needed to grow up and learn how to deal with shit. Then she broke down and cried for fifteen minutes. I had no idea what she was crying about, but I could make out words like "don't love," and "fucking bitch." Group was hard to get through some days.

There were times when I hated these kids and then there were times when I felt at home with them. They may never be "right" either. "So there're quite a lot to talk about in these letters," Dr. Eleazar said as he refolded them and laid them on the edge of the table next to him. This room was brighter than Carlisle's study. My head hurt, and squinting because of the light didn't help. "The nurse said that you've been having quite a few headaches?" They were happening about every day here. I nodded. "Before, after, or during these headaches does anything else happen? Is there something" he stopped. It seemed like he was weighing his words. "Have you been" "C-C-C-Carlisle ch-ch-checked me out. I hhhhhhad a M-M-MRI and a C-C-C-Cat scan. I jjjjjjust have hhhheadaches." "Did you dream last night?" I nodded. "Do you ever have times when you black out or lose time?" I'd seen all the movies and knew that he was trying to figure out if I was really messed up. "I-I-I d-d-don't have m-m-m-mmmmmultiple p-p-p-personality d-dissssssorder or anything." He smiled. "I wasn't necessarily implying that you had a disorder of that magnitude. Headaches could be indicative of something deeper, or it could just be a headache." "I-i-it's jjjjjust a hhhhheadache." With a nod, he changed the topic back to the letters. "So you've discovered a little anger toward your mother?" As much as I hated myself for it, I answered, "Yes." "You did well articulating your hate for your father. Is that the most specific feeling you have toward him?" "Yes." "Do you have any other feeling about him at all?" I thought for a moment and then shrugged. "D-d-d-dis-disap-p-p-pointment." "Really? People become disappointed when their expectations haven't been met. What were your expectations of your father?"

My fingers curled and I fought the urge to bite the meat of my hands. "T-t-t-to nnnnnot hhhhate mmmme and mmmy mmmmom. T-t-to nnnot k-k-k-kill JJJJJJJ-JJJJJJJ, mmmmy b-brother." He nodded as if those expectations made sense to him. "And you feel confused about Joseph." He didn't see my nod as he continued, "He protected you, but also wounded you in ways that are difficult to even think about." My right hand moved to my mouth and my front teeth just nibbled on the first knuckle of my thumb. I didn't break the skin. "Does it bother you that you may never know their true motives?" I felt so tired, but that was the usual now. "I w-w-w-wish I c-c-c-could've rrrread their minds." "Tell me what you think went through your father's mind on an average night." Now my jaw tightened and I felt my teeth tearing at the skin. I was stuck. I couldn't speak and I couldn't stop making myself bleed. "Edward, remember what you were told when you entered the hospital." I took a deep breath and forced my hand away from my mouth. They said there was no self-injury allowed here and if I was unable to control the compulsion, the hospital would have to do it for me. I thought about Alice and her off-white restraining cuffs, and the fear that blossomed within me was enough to keep my hands on the arms of the chair. "Talk to me about why you do that. When did it start? Do you remember?" "I-i-in the c-c-closet." "Please explain." Again, I resisted the urge to bite and I forced myself to speak. "I hhhhhad to b-be quiet. I d-d-didn't wwww-w-want the d-d-d-demons or the angels t-t-to know I w-w-was there." "Did it help you deal with pain?" I nodded. When my father would punish me, it gave me something else to focus on. When I was alone in my room, staring at the stain on the floor, it helped me focus on something other than my absolute terror. I liked the predictability of what would happen. I enjoyed being able to experience what different pressure did to my skin. "Now you use it to help you deal with emotional pain, yes?" Again, I nodded. "When you wrote those letters, did you bite your hands?" I didn't know why this particular question sparked them, but my eyes pinched shut as tears formed. I struggled against them, my hands curling. I had to sit on my fists in order to stop myself from biting. "Would it help you to know that every emotion you expressed within those letters is normal and

natural?" I didn't respond. "I'm very proud of you for writing the letter to your father when I didn't ask for that." I looked up, searching his face for some indication that he was just saying those words instead of meaning them, but I found his expression genuine. "Do you know Johnny Cash's background?" I nodded. I knew about his brother and his later addictions. "The first time he held a guitar was age twelve." That gentle smile was still on his face. "And his mother used to sing during difficult situations." My discomfort grew. "He lost his brother when he was twelve." "Hhhhis d-d-d-d, ffffather didn't k-kill his b-b-b-b-b-brother." "No, but I think it's interesting that you have sought out music, whether intentionally or not, that mirrors some of your own pain. When did you first hear Johnny Cash's music?" I was thirteen or fourteen and Carlisle would bring CD's home once or twice a week and just hand them to me. There was never any rhyme or reason to his choices, and I could never discern his own musical tastes by the arbitrary selection. If I didn't care for them, I gave them back the next day. "C-Carlisle." "How do you think you'd be if he'd never helped you discover music? Do you feel like you would have discovered it at some point without his assistance?" I shrugged, but was thankful that he wasn't focusing on making connections between Cash's life and my own. Though our backgrounds were similar, he never indicated that his older brother ever asked him to "I-I-I don't wwwwant to t-talk about it anymore." "You don't want to talk about music?" "No." He paused and I lowered my gaze to focus on his feet. "Let's talk about how you were feeling at Dr. Cullen's house. Your note indicated that you were contemplating whether or not you wanted to exist anymore." My chest felt tight now and I wished we were still talking about music. "What pushed you to that point and do you still feel that way?" I knew he wanted me to say that I was happy to be alive and I had no desire whatsoever to be dead, but I couldn't say it. I didn't know if I'd ever actually pursue the end of my life, but there was still a

part of me that felt like it would be better if I wasn't around to trouble everyone. If my father was right about who I was, the world would be better off. And if he was wrong, who was around that would care? Wherever my mom and brother were, there was a chance I would be able to be with them again. It didn't matter if I was angry with them in this world; I still wanted to see them again. My mother loved me, and despite feeling strange about the things that happened with Joseph, he had loved me too. I just wanted to be loved like that again. I just wanted someone to understand. "I-I-I don't know." His eyes narrowed. "You don't know?" I shook my head in response, keeping my eyes lowered to avoid seeing what had to be a disappointed or frustrated expression. "You strike me as a thinker, Edward; probably 'over-thinker' is more accurate. I find it hard to believe that you haven't thought about why you didn't, or don't, want to live, and what has driven you to this point." I could see that he wanted something. I realized that he would continue in this vein until I gave him something. "B-Bella left." "Do you equate her leaving with the abandonment you feel from everyone else who has held an elevated place in your life? Are you concerned that other people in your life will leave you too?" The tension was back and I felt a little sick. Bella left like they all did and at some point, Alice would forget about me. Carlisle might stick around, but my wickedness would penetrate his compassion and turn him cold too. I was finished speaking for the day. I was looking forward to some time alone. Marcus never spoke. He never even looked in my direction. It was comforting. Before the end of our session, Dr. Eleazar gave me a small smile. "I hope you have a good day, Edward." "Follow me," Dr. Eleazar said. He was outside of his office waiting for me, even though it wasn't my day to see him. The break in the routine caught me off-guard and I wanted to plant my feet, but I had no other choice but to follow him as he began to walk. I felt anxious. The nervousness vibrated through my body, causing my heart to flutter and my breathing to become difficult. He stopped in front of a door. I had never been down this corridor before. The unfamiliarity of it all added to my apprehension. His hand moved to the knob as he inserted a key and twisted it. He opened the door and flicked on the lights, then entered and turned around to wait for me.

It took me a full minute to work up enough courage to follow him. When I finally got into the room, I saw that it was filled with instruments. My hands fisted. I didn't want anything to do with music right now. "My sister is a rocket scientist." I must have looked at him strangely. I was wondering if he was being serious or if he was just using the hyperbole to illustrate that his sister was smart. "No, really, she works for NASA, but what she really loves is playing the cello. Beyond listening, I'm not really musical." He walked to where the cello stood next to the piano along with other stringed instruments. "Have you played the cello before?" I shook my head. "Do you think you could?" I had no doubt that I could figure it out fairly easily, so I nodded. "Do you want to try?" I shook my head. "Why are you avoiding music?" I took a deep breath and considered telling him that I wasn't avoiding music, but he'd see the lie right away. I considered saying "I don't know," but he was a therapist and they were trained not to accept that as an answer. Besides, I wasn't sure myself. "It d-d-d-doesn't fffffeel r-r-right." It was the simplest and most honest answer I could come up with. He sat down at the piano and just watched me as I stood. I fidgeted under his gaze and wondered what he wanted me to do. "Tell me what it felt like to be handed an instrument for the first time." I guessed this was where we were having our session, so I found a folding chair and settled in. "C-c-confusing." "Why?" "B-b-because my fffffather ssssssaid m-m-music was vvvvvvvain." "Do you ever wonder why Dr. Cullen gave you a guitar? Do you think he knew about your father's rules?" I had no idea what people knew of my father's rules. When I was questioned by the police after what happened with Joseph, I didn't give many answers. Mainly it was Bible-quoting nonsense. I could recall how everyone looked at me oddly.

"I d-don't know. Mmmmaybe." "I would like to talk about Joseph." My hands tightened on my thighs. I was here for therapy. I was here because I chose to be here, but it didn't make it any easier to hear his name or to think about anything associated with him. "O-o-o-o-okay." "In your letter, you express a few times how many conflicting and confusing thoughts and feelings you have for your brother. You mentioned that you wished he'd beaten you like your father instead of hurting you the way he did. Why is that?" It wasn't the first time I noticed that Dr. Eleazar wouldn't say the words I wasn't ready to hear. Both of us generalized about what happened, using words like "hurting," instead of "molesting." I was thankful that he wasn't pushing too hard. I didn't want to think about the definitions. "Those acts," I began, my voice steady and strong at first, "th-that hhhhappen b-b-b-between t-two p-p-p-people ssssssshould b-be" I struggled to find the right word, something I could say easily. I ran my hand through my hair and then repeated the action, only then I tugged it a little; getting lost in the slight pain made it easier to handle the discussion. "Intimate." I shook my head because it wasn't what I wanted to say exactly. "What happened between the two of you wasn't intimate?" Sighing, I continued shaking my head. "That's n-nnnnot w-w-what I mmmmeant." What happened with Joseph was intimate, too intimate. "What did he make you do, Edward?" My whole body was tense and I shivered. My whole self was alight with chemicals sent from my brain. I felt numb. I shook. I was silent. My mouth opened and closed as my eyes focused on how Dr. Eleazar's hand rested on the lid of the piano. I wished I could see the familiar black and white of the keys. I had to control my rising panic. I was here to get better. Regardless if it was with Bella, I wanted to be a healthier person who could have sustainable relationships. My breathing slowed. Dr. Eleazar's index finger rose about a centimeter off the black lid and then pressed down. "Idddddon't.hhhhhave wwwwwwords." I heard him inhale and I was drawn to his face. He was looking at me, so I immediately returned my

focus to his hand. "Yes, you do. It's just easier for you to say that you don't. Your speech impediment is an easy crutch to fall back on when things are difficult to deal with." His statement made me angry. My hands fisted again. "The rest of the world has to push through painful topics and use their voice to express what they're feeling. I understand it's not comfortable for you to talk, but I want you to know that I can see through your rationale." He paused and I flicked my eyes back up to his face. His voice seemed to hold some kind of emotion. He was usually passively indifferent. Dr. Eleazar's expression was hard as he regarded me. I wasn't used to that and I felt even more uncomfortable. His hands folded in his lap. "We don't ever delve into who I am as a person, and rightly so, but there's something about me that you need to know. I don't waste my time, Edward. If you're unwilling to even broach issues, I'm not a hundred-percent sure there's much point in even continuing." All the anger that I'd just felt melted into fear; not that I would be hurt physically, but that he would give up on me. "You're at an in-patient mental health treatment center. You made that decision and yet here you sit, unwilling to get messy with the dirty details of your past." I hated the word "dirty" and my fist rose off of my thigh and then slammed back down. "Did you just need a vacation from the comfortable existence Dr. Cullen has provided you? Did you just need someone to tell you when to eat, when to sleep, when to think? A sterile environment free of all the choices you feel you shouldn't have to make; someplace away from music and books and art which tie you to the world beyond your father's house?" His lips pulled together as if he was considering what he'd just said and then he nodded. "I can see the comforting appeal of that for you, but don't waste my time, okay? There are people here who not only want to get better, but they're worse off than you. I won't bore you by telling you how tight my schedule is, or how exclusive and expensive this facility is, but if you just need a vacation from your life, I think you should try Baja or one of the islands off the coast of Florida." He leaned forward and I could almost feel his eyes drilling into mine. "Don't waste my time." Dr. Eleazar sat there for close to a minute while I struggled to do something, anything, but when he rose from the piano bench, I rushed to say something. I didn't know what it would be, but I didn't want him to leave. I didn't want to continue my life the way it had been. "Hhhhhe m-m-made me touch him." My chest tightened and I felt sick, but Dr. Eleazar sat back down. His hands folded once more, but moved to cover his mouth, his index fingers straight and pointing to God like the steeple of a church. He was waiting for more. "I d-d-d-didn't wwwwwant to." Silence and then my voice was barely there and I almost couldn't hear it over my raspy breathing. "He

t-t-t-t-touched mmmmmme." "Is that as far as it went?" Again, my body shook and I felt horribly sick. An aching numbness was creeping up my body, beginning in my toes. If it reached my heart, I thought I would die. I tried to answer, but my mouth just kept making unrecognizable sounds. "The night your father was bent on purifying you," he seemed to know there were many nights like that, so he clarified, "the night he killed your brother, what pushed him to do that?" Again I couldn't speak. It wasn't like I was trying to get out of anything, even though I didn't want to answer. I would've if my body would let me. "Did he walk in on your brother doing these things to you in his room?" The numbness was in my knees and still creeping. "Mmmmmmmy r-r-r-r-r-rrrrrrrrrrroom," I heard myself say. Now there was a tingling numbness in the crown of my head that was spreading downward to meet its mate, but that almost made it easier to speak. "I w-was t-t-too llllloud." I shook my head. "I d-d-didn't mmmmmean t-t-to be, b-b-b-b-b-but it" I closed my eyes and the scene appeared as if I was back there, "hurt." After a moment, Dr. Eleazar's said, "So beyond touching, there was actual sexual penetration?" What he said sickened me. Both from the top and the bottom, my heart was seized by the cold. My rigid body folded and I hugged my chest to my legs and hoped that this would be it. I hoped I would die just from this conversation. I certainly felt like I could. His voice was soft. "You feel ashamed, but the shame is not your own. That was not one of the choices you made. It was a decision belonging to someone else, Edward. It affected you, but it wasn't your own." I felt desperate to sink my teeth into something, but my hands were locked around my knees. Dr. Eleazar didn't understand. Joseph never hurt me by force. He asked me to do those things and I did. I was doubled over and I had nothing to bite to help me through, so I found myself talking. ."He p-p-pulled mmmme b-b-by my hhhhhair and ch-ch-choked me wwwwwwhile he lllllooked at JJJJJJ-JJJJJJoseph. He d-didn't have t-t-t-t-time to get the b-b-b-b-b-b-bstrap, so he b-b-beat me w-w-with his fffffists." "What did Joseph do?" My heart thumped hard and loud in my chest. "He yelled. I d-d-d-don't kn-know hhhhhow mmmmmy fffffatherw-w-w-why hhhhhe let me g-g-go and p-punished JJJJJJI c-c-c-couldn't ffffffocus on him, b-but then mmmmy fffffffffffather sat on his chest and k-k-kept hhhhitting his fffface, b-but I c-c-couldn't gggget up t-t-to hhhhhhelp him." "Even after what Joseph had done to you, you wanted to help him?"

"I d-d-didn't w-w-want hhhhim to g-g-get p-punished. I d-didn't wwwant him to d-die." "Tell me what your father did to purify you after that." What I'd said would have to be enough because I didn't want to talk about that. I didn't know where the energy or strength came from, but I stood up and found the cello. I sat down with it between my legs, holding the bow in my right hand. I wanted to bite my hand and taste the blood. With a few cursory strokes of the bow against the strings, I listened to the sounds and within short minutes, played a selection from Bach, followed by Vivaldi. At first, my timing was off, but once I figured out how long it took to drag the bow across the strings to achieve the sound I needed, I made the adjustments and then played the pieces flawlessly. Dr. Eleazar just sat and listened. At the end of the extended session, Dr. Eleazar walked me to the lunchroom where a cupcake awaited me. There was no candle on it, but Dr. Eleazar said, "Happy birthday, Edward." My birthday just happened to fall on a day when visitors were allowed. Everyone came up to see me, which was nice for a change. It wasn't that I was lonely, because I felt like I'd been alone my whole life, but I missed them. Alice looked healthy. I wasn't sure if she'd been released or if she was allowed out to visit me. I didn't know if they'd sent her back to the institution in Seattle or if she was just doing more intense out-patient therapy. I didn't have the energy to ask. The whole visit was sanitized; no one really mentioned that I was in the hospital. No one asked me how I was doing or when I thought I would go home. No one asked me about all the stuff I said to Dr. Eleazar today. No one said anything about Bella. They did, however, mention several times that I was eighteen now. I wondered if it meant something. I wondered why it was a big deal. Seventeen or eighteen, I was still dealing with all of the things I'd been dealing with for most of my life. Before my adopted family left, I walked purposefully through the halls with Carlisle beside me. He was a safe distance away so if I needed him, I could reach out and grab his arm, but if I didn't, he was far enough away that he would never accidentally touch me. We were together in the music room and while I normally would feel frightened about being alone in a room with a man, I felt comfortable today. My sessions with Dr. Eleazar had shown me that not everyone was interested in hurting me, and I knew that it was the same for Carlisle. I brought him in here because I wanted to show him what I could do with the new instrument. He'd never heard me play the cello before, and I felt like it was important that he knew. He was responsible for giving me music and I felt like this might be an appropriate thank you. He sat in a chair by the percussion instruments and his eyes were bright as he watched me.

I was nervous, but I played well. I played like the recordings I'd memorized. When I finished, I could barely look at him, but what he said drew my eyes as close to his as I could bring them. "You have such talent. I hope you know how proud I am of you. You've come so far in such a short time. I know that I'm not the one who has given you the tools to heal, but I want you to know how delighted I am to see the little boy under the table grow into himself. You amaze me." He paused and I thought he was finished, but then he said, "I want you to know that I love everything that you are. You're such a beautiful human being, capable of such great things. " I set the bow across my lap and struggled against all of the emotion that bubbled and burst inside of me. I wanted to be his son. I couldn't help it when the silent tears that slipped down my cheeks turned into outright weeping. I couldn't help it at all, even though I desperately didn't want to show him. I was thankful when he stayed in his seat and didn't try to physically comfort me. His words were more meaningful anyway. "I love you, Edward." "What do you think about visiting Chicago?" I stopped breathing for a second, but forced myself to recover quickly. I had been successfully stopping the attacks before they took hold since coming into the hospital. "W-what?" "There are times when one needs to confront the past head-on physically in order to push past it. It can be cathartic." The doctor took his glasses off and regarded me thoughtfully. "I'm not saying it has to be today or tomorrow, but perhaps you could consider going back to that place' that 'dark house' as you called it, and see if your perspective has changed." I didn't want to go to Chicago and I certainly had no desire to go to that dark house. Even the thought of it seemed too much to bear. "I-I-I-I" I shook my head when I found that words failed me. Moving to the piano, I automatically began to press the keys. I didn't even know what I was playing until I forced myself to focus on it. It was Liszt. Ever since I'd played the cello for him, we'd had our sessions in this room. It was helping me grow comfortable with music again. Dr. Eleazar was forcing me to recognize how natural it was for me. It was late July now and we'd begun to talk about being discharged from the hospital and continuing my therapy on an out-patient level again. The thought of leaving made me nervous. I'd grown accustomed to the routine and was even comfortable with Marcus now. I still hadn't spoken during group, but I was assured that the point of it wasn't for me to push myself to speak, but gain insight from the stories of others.

In that regard, I thought it had been a success. Doctor Eleazar and I had spoken about not locking my bedroom door when I got back home, but I was sure that it was one aspect of my existence that wouldn't change. I liked to feel secure, and even though Carlisle had a key and someone strong could just bust the door down, knowing that the composite metal knob was locked provided me some peace. I wasn't going to give that up. But my hands were healed. All that was left were scars. When I stopped playing, I pivoted on the bench and laid my hands flat on my thighs. "I don't w-want to go to Ch-Chicago." With a nod, he asked, "Why is that?" It took me a moment to gather all of my thoughts into something I could share with him, but I wanted to say it in the right way. "I didn't liiiike who I w-was there." "But you like who you are now?" I sighed and turned back to the piano, my hands supplying the sounds of a jazz piece I'd listened to with Carlisle last week. Carlisle liked jazz. It suited him. He visited twice a week now and we always came into this room and listened to whatever CD he'd chosen to bring. I'd never known what type of music he liked or how sophisticated his tastes were. It was nice to be still and focus on the music. He liked old bluesy-jazz like Billie Holiday and I found that we shared an enjoyment of Nina Simone. He also liked Miles Davis, Thelonious Monk and John Coltrane, which surprised me. I liked being surprised by that. I didn't wait until the song was completed to answer. "I like p-p-parts of who I am." "Such as?" We did this a lot. He would ask me at least once every other session. I was tired of detailing the things that I enjoyed about myself. It seemed odd and felt uncomfortable, but I always gave him an answer. "Being mmmusical. Understanding a-a-art and lllliterature." "What else?" I rested my fingers against the keys. "I'm k-kind and I c-care about p-p-people." "And?" "I ffffforgive p-p-people wwwhen they've" I was pleased that my mind didn't automatically supply a Biblical reference, but I felt more uncomfortable speaking this aloud. "When they've what?" I could tell without looking at him that he was curious, since I hadn't mentioned

this one before. "W-when they've www-www-wwwronged me." "The ability to forgive is a wonderful quality. Who have you forgiven?" "Mmmy m-mmm-mmmmom." I was silent after that. I turned to face him, knowing that he would continue with this thread. "What about Joseph?" My sigh was long and heavy. I started picking at the cuticles of my right hand with my left. Dr. Eleazar cleared his throat and I looked up. Something in his expression told me that I needed to stop doing that. I sat on my hands. "I don't know." He considered this and then nodded. "That's fair enough. What about your father?" I shook my head. "So you definitely haven't forgiven him. Why?" I'd thought about this a lot. "B-because I d-don't understand." I could rationalize what my mother had done. Her addiction had grown wildly out of control. While she was responsible for the choice of doing drugs, I didn't feel I could hold her responsible for much else. I felt like she did what she could to protect us, but there was something keeping her from getting actual help. It could have been my father. There was so much I didn't know about, but there were things that I was beginning to remember. For instance, the times when my father hit my mother during dinner. There was one time in particular when I thought she was high and she said something to him; she must've talked back in a way he didn't like. He pulled her away from the table by her hair and pressed her against the wall, squeezing her throat. I remembered not understanding, but remaining silent just like Joseph. I cried while his hand tightened around his fork. I remembered looking at Joseph's face and being frightened by his expression. I could now comprehend that if my father hadn't killed Joseph, at some point Joseph would have killed my father. The other time that stood out in my mind was when I was six or seven. I wasn't sure, but it felt like it was close to the time she killed herself. She'd said something to him again, but he grabbed me instead. My memories of that were fuzzy and unclear, but I remember not being able to breathe and I remember her screaming. One of his hands was around my neck while the other was over my mouth and nose. Somehow I was released and slid down the wall. When my eyes could focus, it was just Joseph and me in the kitchen. I could hear my parents upstairs. Joseph helped me up and when my legs stopped shaking, we cleaned up. My father's nightly lesson would start soon. I didn't blame my mother for her fear or her addiction.

I could even rationalize most of what happened with Joseph. I hated thinking about it, but I could recognize that not all of his actions were things he could control. I'd come to understand that I couldn't hold him to the expectations of "normal" people. His mind had been badly warped by the time my mother took her life. At that point, he'd had twelve years of conditioning and if my father did hurt himmolested him in the same way as Joseph had done to me, then it really wasn't his doing. It was the hand-me-down abuse of my father. Joseph was just the instrument. I tried not to think of it too much. I didn't know if my father even would do that. It could have been someone at church. There were times after the service when we would wait for my father and I didn't know where Joseph was. There was nothing concrete to even verify that something like that had ever happened to Joseph, either at my father's hand or anyone else's. I would never know. My father was different. I found nothing redeeming within him and I had no idea how a person could become that way. I couldn't forgive him if I didn't understand him. "What about Bella?" Dr. Eleazar's soft question shocked me out of my thoughts. Every time I heard her name I felt out-of-sorts. "W-what?" "Have you forgiven Bella?" "Yes." I started playing the piano again. "Was that difficult?" I recognized that I was playing an adjusted version of Bella's song. I hadn't played it in a while. "No." "Why is that?" "B-because I lllllove her." "I haven't heard this one before," he said of the song. I twisted around just enough to see him watching my hands as they moved. "There's something hopeful about it, yes?" Of course there was something hopeful about it. It was a song for Bella. "P-p-people can int-terpret mmmmusic hhhhowever they w-want." "So it's not meant to be hopeful?" I shrugged, even though I felt as though it was. I didn't want him to know that it was about Bella and I didn't want him to know the real feelings I had when I played it. "Do you wonder where she is?" His voice was casual and I glanced up at him again. He wasn't looking at me. "I w-worry ab-bout her."

"Do you think she loves you?" I'd thought about this more than perhaps I should've, but I was convinced that she had loved me. Whether she did or didn't currently was a still mystery, but I nodded anyway. "Why do you think she left?" I didn't need to think. "B-because she was sssscared," I replied, adding "like me," in my mind. "Let's talk about your physical altercation with Bella." I kept focused on the music, but felt sick. "I d-d-didn'tI mmmmmeant, I d-d-did b-b-b-but" I was thankful when he picked up where I'd trailed off. "She struck you and then what happened?" I hated even thinking about it, but I knew I had to. "I g-g-g-grabbed her. I ssssshoved her into the w-w-w-wall and w-w-wouldn't llllet her go. I w-w-w-wanted to mmmmake her b-b-behave." "How did that make you feel?" "I w-w-was angry. She mmmmade mmme mmmad and I wanted her to just see hhhhhow sssssst, how r-r-r-r, how d-dumb she was b-being." "What would have happened had she not pushed you away? Let's say you kept her up against the wall, what then?" I didn't want to think about it. It made me sick. It was scary because I didn't honestly know what I was truly capable of. I'd witnessed a lot of things in my life. Was I capable of doing any of them? "D-d-do you th-think I w-w-w-w-would've hhhhurt hhhher? I felt sick and panicked, but kept playing. "D-d-d-do you th-think I'd b-b-be like mmmy d-d-d-d, father? That I'd" I couldn't bring myself to say it. "What do you think?" "No!" My denial didn't make me feel better because how could I honestly know how far I could've gone in order to control her? I had to remind myself that I did stop myself. I didn't let it go any further. The room was silent, except for the sounds of the piano as the song drew to a close. "I'm recommending that you be released at the end of this week." I pulled my hands from the keys and sat on them. "B-b-b-but I" What he said next didn't lend me any comfort either. "I want you to think about visiting Chicago." "B-b-b-butw-w-w-what if." "Please relax and just humor me by saying you'll at least think about it. That's all I ask."

 I returned home just in time for Rosalie to have the baby. I didn't go to the hospital, but Carlisle said she understood and that I'd get to see Liam when she brought him home. They named him after Emmett's brother and they were living here until college because our house was bigger than Esme's. The thought of having a baby around was uncomfortable and when she brought him home and asked if I wanted to hold him, I felt strange. I declined the offer and hoped she wasn't offended. I didn't want to drop or hurt him. He was a nice-looking baby. I hadn't seen any other baby close-up, but I sat a few feet away from Rosalie on the couch and I watched him sleep. I could tell Rose was absolutely in love with the little baby. Emmett too. Liam looked like a blond-haired, blue-eyed version of Emmett. I wondered what that felt like to have someone like that in your life. For the next week, I wondered if I would ever have children. I never wanted them really, but it seemed like Rose and Emmett were happy as parents, even though they didn't sleep much. Seeing Liam didn't make me want to be a father, but it did make me wonder if I would ever want to be. I didn't like the feeling of indifference. I didn't like the creeping thought that it was just another lasting effect of my father's will. If I ever did have a child, I would be kind to it. I wouldn't hurt it. I wouldn't My head began to hurt and I forced myself to stop thinking about it. I played music until it was quiet in my mind. I found solace, as usual, behind my locked bedroom door. When peace had settled upon me again, I could think rationally. I debated about going to Chicago Now that I was home in my room with all of the things that had been replaced from my attempts at purging her from my space, I thought of Bella more. There were times when my thoughts weren't just of her smile, or her laugh, or holding her hand. Sometimes I thought of her body and what it had felt like on mine. When I got an erection, I was able to masturbate until release. It felt good. Except for a little guilt and a small amount of shame, I felt normal. The house was incredibly small.

It was worn down and abandoned. I hadn't realized that we lived in the bad part of town. "Are you okay?" Although I felt distant and somewhat removed, I turned to Alice and nodded. I knew I could do this. It was what Dr. Eleazar wanted. He thought it could help me. Esme too. Neither one came to Chicago with me. It would have been strange for someone like Dr. Eleazar to do that and Esme felt Emmett, Rosalie and Liam needed her more. She would have come if I'd said I needed her to, but Carlisle and Alice were enough. It felt right. Alice was from Chicago and needed to visit just as much as I did, and while he hadn't been the one to take me out of the house, Carlisle essentially saved me from my life here. Alice held my hand as Carlisle took a step toward the house. I shivered, remembering how cold it was the last time I was here. It took me a solid ten minutes to walk up the steps to the porch. I usually went in through the door by the garage. The front door wasn't locked when Carlisle tried it. They both waited for me, but I pulled my hand from Alice's. I said nothing as I moved back down the stairs and went to the side of the house. The door was locked, but the pane of glass was broken, so I reached inside and unlocked it. I took off my shoes and placed them neatly in the corner between the house and the garage. There were old leaves and sticks that had accumulated there, but my mind was focused on the inside of the house. I stepped through, knowing that Alice and Carlisle were behind me. The house was completely empty. I didn't explore the downstairs at all. I moved quickly up the stairs and found my room. The carpet was gone. The wood flooring in front of the door was slightly discolored. I noted where my dresser once stood and I guessed where my bed had been. Then I went straight to my closet. It was smaller than I remembered it. I sat down and wrapped my arms around my legs and looked out of the crack and remembered my mother's hand. As much as I thought I would panic, I didn't. I had no idea how long I was there, but I when I decided I'd had enough, I stood up and went to the window. I could hear Alice talking to Carlisle but I couldn't make out what they were saying. This was the spot where I would sit and watch some of the neighborhood kids play. I watched the snow fall from this window. This was also the spot where I sat and watched Joseph die just feet away from me.

I didn't linger much longer in my room. Instead I surveyed the hallway and bathroom, and then stopped by Joseph's room. Pushing the door open, I peeked around inside, but didn't enter. I didn't look in my parents' room. I made a quick pass through the downstairs, mental images of pain flashing thought my head as I took in all corners of each room. My father would be appalled at the condition of his house. The filth would have been too much for him. My chest tightened when I caught sight of the door down to the basement. There was an alcove off of the kitchen. Straight through it was the door to the backyard and to the right was the door to the basement. I took a step closer. If I got too scared, I could just go forward through the door and be outside, but if I felt courageous, I could turn to my right and take the steps down. I stood still, the choice before me. My heart raced. My head pounded. I couldn't remember why I was here. Everything was dark. I turned right and took one step down, my eyes pinched shut. I felt sick, like I'd been kicked in the stomach or a vise was being twisted down, clamping around my gut. I forced myself down another stair, and then another, until the third step from the bottom. This was the point when if I looked around, I would be able to see the entire basement. I sat down and thought of calming music. I thought of how the piano keys felt under my fingertips. I thought of my mother's voice that sang so brightly. I thought of Bella's smile. While I no longer felt like throwing up, I could not go farther down the stairs. I did not look around. I had nothing to prove and I was finished exploring. I took a step up. This wasn't where I lived anymore. Another step up. It was no longer relevant to my life.

Another step. It was an empty shell and I refused to mimic it. Another and another and another. While I admitted that my life had begun here, my life was not here. Nothing was. The last step up brought the light from outside. This house was empty, but I was not. Alice and Carlisle waited in the kitchen for me. I took Alice's hand and looked at Carlisle. "I want to g-go home now."

Chapter 63: Hooked Bella "Oh god!" Edward's mouth felt fantastic on my breast as his hips nestled tightly between my legs. He was so fucking sexy. My hand was in his hair, driving him wild. He was so enthusiastic and at least once every few minutes he would release my nipple to kiss my mouth, murmuring how much he loved me. He tasted so fucking good, like orange fucking sex. What made everything better, what heightened everything, was that not only did I love him, but he loved me back. In spite of all the reasons he shouldn't love me, he did, and so when the pressure within me snapped, I came harder and longer than ever before. But my orgasm forced me awake and I had to face the disappointing fact that my hand had done all that. I wasn't with Edward anymore and he would never love me again. Every morning Laurent left one neat line of coke on his bedside table, because he knew how much I needed it. It was just one more little thing he did in a sea of actions all centered around me. I didn't know why he was kind to me. He didn't fuck me. He didn't even try to, which fucking sucked because his porn-star dick teased my thoughts endlessly. I always went to sleep fucked-up, but my dreams were too much. If it wasn't for the pot and the pills, I'd never sleep. The dreams were too bad. This one, while pleasant, created an ache inside that rivaled how I felt after a dream of my life in Phoenix.

I rolled over quickly, anxious to drive the thought of Edward and his comforting arms from my mind. I missed his fingers and not just in a sexual sense. I missed his toes. I missed the feel of his hair. I missed him. I snorted the coke as fast as I could, and then lay on my back to gauge if I wanted another line or bump, or if I was good for a while. I decided that I was okay with just the one line. I got up and stumbled around the apartment for a while. I had nothing to do, but I walked from here to there; I straightened a framed photo of the Eiffel Tower, and ran into the archway that separated his dining room and living room. I would bruise later. I continued to the kitchen. I hated the morning. I checked my blood sugar, took my insulin, and then debated for long minutes about what to eat until I realized that I only had two choices: bread or strawberries. Laurent didn't keep much food in the place. He shopped daily on his way home from work. Laurent was what I called a "functioning user." He went to work on time every day, even though he was hooked on heroin. It was amazing. Sometimes we'd be at James' house when he literally couldn't pick himself up off the floor after shooting up, and then there were times when he could put on his suit and tie like he hadn't just pushed opiates through his veins. The first day I awoke in his apartment, I saw that he'd bought clothes for me. I wasn't sure how he knew what size I was, but everything he bought, fit. Mainly I walked around in boy shorts and a baby doll tee. I barely wore any of the actual clothing unless we were going to see James. One morning, I went to take my insulin and found the small glass bottle empty. It had to be the weekend, because Laurent was still here. He was lying on the floor, his foot on the couch. He was totally fucked up, but I needed to let him know. I sat on his chest, my hands cupping his face. "Laaaaamb," he whispered, drawing out the word. His hands moved to my thighs and he ran them from the tops of my knees up the outsides of my thighs, and then to my hips. I could get lost in the sensation, but I needed fucking insulin. "I need this, Laurent." I held up the bottle. He smiled. "I need this, Laurent," he repeated softly without reason. I held up the bottle in front of his face. "I fucking need this. I can't" He was losing focus, so I set the bottle down on his chest and squeezed his face between my hands. "I need this." "I have more." "What?" How could he have more insulin? Where the hell was it? I craned my neck as if I would be able to see the refrigerator from here. "In my lockbox," he said, his words sloppy. He'd just gotten high. I knew he kept his dope and mine in that lockbox, right next to his three handguns. "No, baby," I said, feeling panic wash over me. There was comfort knowing he had more coke, but that's not what I

needed right now. "I need insulin. I need to go to the store and get it and" Standing up, I went over to the end table and grabbed the pouch with my monitor and supplies. "I need this too." I sat down next to him with my legs folded. Slowly, he sat up, sitting cross-legged like I was. I took my blood sugar, just to show him what the hell was up. When the machine beeped, he asked, "What's that number?" "My sugar's too high. I need insulin." He looked confused for a second, but then his head rolled to the side and his body followed. Like a guy who just banged a good amount of smack, his movements where slow and fluid, whereas mine were quick and purposeful. He dressed, pulling on sweatpants and a t-shirt, and grabbing his wallet. He rested against the door and held his hands out to me. I moved within them and felt comfort from his embrace. I was happy that I was pretty high, because otherwise I might have stopped to reflect again on just how much I missed Edward. "I will get this for you, Lamb." His accent was thicker when he was fucking high. I moved out of his hold and got my monitor from the floor. I pressed it into his hands. I was thankful yet again that the insulin I needed did not require a prescription. "Lancets and test strips too, okay? Go to a pharmacy; they'll get you what you need. Just show this to them." He swallowed and his eyes shut for a moment. I thought he might've fallen asleep standing up, but then he cupped my face and kissed me on the mouth, his tongue tracing my bottom lip before he pulled away. "I'll take care of you. I will be back." The thought of me going with him didn't occur to either of us. It was just as well. He returned in an hour. I was surprised at how happy I was to have the insulin. I didn't really care if I lived or died anymore, but there was something scary about the idea of dying from diabetes. It had always been something I controlled. I had always been so good at it. I didn't know why it got so fucked up once I moved to Forks. Later in the day, we went to see James. I napped in the car. When we got there, Laurent had a woman who was basically just waiting for him. He fucked her on the floor, next to James' discarded Johnny Walker Red bottle. I watched him as James took me from behind, and Laurent watched me. I let James maneuver me and position my body any way he wanted. James grabbed and pulled, smacked and yanked my hair and body. The pain of it all gave me something to focus on. My shit was wearing off and anytime I was coming down, I found myself susceptible to thinking about the man who'd fucked me when I was little. But there was something soothing in the way James made me hurt. I liked watching Laurent fuck. He seemed to consume the woman he was with. I wanted him to devour me. After weeks of staying with him; after weeks of sleeping in the same bed, nothing sexual had happened between us. He touched me. His hand would slide from my shoulder and down my bare

arm. Sometimes he would rest his hands on my hips. He would brush the hair from my face. He would even run an appreciative hand down my ass if I was bent over or leaning, but nothing sexual ever came of it. It was frustrating. One night, though, I woke up screaming. I felt held down and deep voices laughed as breath tickled my ear. "Little lost lamb," Laurent murmured as we both sat up straight. He brought me onto his lap, holding me. "What has wounded my lamb so deeply?" I pressed my face against the naked flesh of his shoulder and clung to him as if I were a little girl frightened of monsters in the closet. He held me as if he understood my terror. My eyes were wet but his hands were strong against my lower back. After my shaking subsided, he ran his finger over a few marks left by James. "Why do you let him treat you so?" Was this the part when I told him about being held down and fucked at eleven? Did I tell him about the men in my room, their weight on top of me, suffocating me? Did I tell him that James wasn't abusing or using me; that it was I who was using James? "Your body is a canvas of pain." I looked away and thought of Edward. "James told you I like pain." Laurent pulled away. "No. There are people who like pain, my little lamb. There are people who crave it, but you? You merely accept it as if it is the only thing you deserve. James indulges you when he should not, but he has always been of a singular mind. He has always given people what he perceives they want and will not stop until he grows bored. He is acting out of his own need; his own pain." I pulled away, pushing against his chest. "If I wanted fucking therapy, I'd go home." "Where is home?" I thought of Forks and of Phoenix, but it was all a jumble. I got on all fours and did a line from the table. "I don't know," I said, my body trembling with the new chemical electricity. I felt better already, but I wanted to come. I fucking needed to. I sat back and brought his hand between my legs. He was hesitant. "Please?" I didn't know why he wouldn't fuck me considering I basically lived in his apartment and slept almost naked next to him every night. "Please?" I begged again, "You said you'd take care of me. Please?" He was looking into my eyes, and I hoped he could see how bad I fucking needed him. I hoped he heard my silent screams. His hand moved and my eyes closed. We didn't fuck, but he did make me come.

I would have liked to have gotten thoroughly fucked to tame the intensity of my nerves, but I was thankful for anything at all and his hand and mouth were decent replacements for what I actually wanted. After that I just wanted more coke or if nothing else, just a little weed to help me sleep. "Mmmm, I love you too, Edward." I opened my eyes and I found myself staring at the ceiling. I fucking hated dreaming. Rolling over, I snorted two lines and felt Laurent's big hand run down my back. Laurent was on James' couch. He'd just banged while James and I were upstairs. I had no idea where his needle was now, but he was amazingly high. He was just laying there, his legs spread, his arms open wide. James had to know that Laurent used because of the way his eyes were so fucking glazed while his body was deathly still. It was a blatant give-away. I licked my lips, thinking about how fucking amazing he was at making me come without using his cock. I really wanted to fuck him. James was in the kitchen and I crawled over to Laurent. There was no telling whether he'd even be able to get it hard in the state he was in, but I wanted to give it a shot. I looked up at him and unzipped his pants, snaking my hand within and grasping his dick. I tugged on him and was happy when I felt it respond. When I looked back up, his eyes were bright with need, with want, even though his drug should have left them dull. I gave him head, but it must have only been sloppy at best since I was relatively fucked-up and his dick was much bigger than I was used to. His hands lazily moved to the backs of my elbows and he urged me up. I was still naked after James, so all I had to do was help Laurent out of his pants and I sank down on him. He felt so fucking good and he drove all thoughts from my headbut not for long. "You're so pretty," his heavily-accented voice whispered. Edward used to say that to me. Fuck. I heard the wet slurping sound of a dick being stroked behind me. I twisted and saw James jerking off while he watched me ride his friend. He pressed me flush to Laurent, and then he pushed into me. Some kind of sound escaped me and I fought to keep myself in the moment.

This was sexy? This was sexy. I was trying to convince myself now. I was going to come. That was why I was doing this. If there were three more penises, one in my mouth and two in my hands, it'd be like that nightno, four moreone would be Yes, four more and it would be like the night he made me a whore. I was a whore. A slutty fucking whore who liked to get fucked. The numbness that was seeping into me wasn't sexy. I hoped that the numb was a precursor of death. Could I just die from being fucked? Maybe my heart could work too fast for too long and just stop. Maybe they'd continue fucking a dead chick. Maybe they already were. Maybe they would tear something internally and I'd die three days from now from an infection or something. Maybe I would Oh, fuuuck. "Oh, you are beautiful," Laurent said, his hand threading through my hair, his thumb rubbing underneath my eye. Had I not been so utterly high, I would've flinched and felt sickened by his words. He leaned close and kissed me much too tenderly on the mouth. While the soft kiss put me on edge, it was his next words that were too much to handle. "I love you, Lamb," he said in a quiet voice. I froze for a second but there were not enough drugs in this world that would be able to stop my reaction. I sat up straight. His hand stayed still and my hair was pulled. "You can't fucking do that!" I curled my hands and I hit his naked chest. I hit him hard. Tears ran down my cheeks and my body shook. I kept beating him until he sat up and brought his arms around me, holding me so close to him I could barely breathe. "You can't fucking" I sobbed. I couldn't control it. It was a complete breakdown. I cried for how no

one had loved me when I was little, and then all of the sudden, everyone fucking loved me. I didn't understand any of this shit and I didn't want it. "Well, I don't love you. I can't fucking love you." I didn't want him to love me. Why'd he have to love me? Why'd he have to fucking say it? Why did Edward have to love me? Why did he give me his heart like that? I never asked for it. I never wanted that responsibility. I cried for what seemed like hours. I cried until Laurent laid me back down and drew the covers up over me. He smoothed back my hair and gave me a pill. I swallowed it without water; without even knowing what it was. He continued to stroke my hair until I fell asleep. My dreams broke my heart. "They're fucking looking at me," I said, returning my eyes to the ground and pulling on Laurent's shirt. No one could tell he was high, but those fucking people with the kids were looking at me. "No, Lamb, they're looking at the magazines." "Fuck that. They're looking at me," I repeated. I felt sweaty and sick. He wrapped his arm around me and tucked me into his body. I buried my face there. "They're going to take me away," I whispered. The steady beep, beep of the registers distracted me, but only for a moment. My whole body was jittery. I needed to get high before I really started to freak out. "No one will take you," Laurent responded patiently. I thought about my mother for some reason and I started to panic. I fisted my hands into his shirt and felt my knees go weak. "She's going to take me." "No, no one is." I couldn't stop the tears from spilling. "Please, let's just go." "We need food and no one is looking at you." "But what about Edward? He always looks at me. He always knows." His arms tightened on me and we took a step forward. Hopefully it was almost our time to check-out. "Who's Edward?" Who was Edward? Who was Edward?

Edward was bright. Edward was warm. Edward was the opposite of what I was. The panic I felt when thinking of my mother doubled and caused my gut to ache. "I'm going to puke." He smoothed the hair back from my face and looked down at me. "Please relax. Only five more minutes, Lamb. People are beginning to stare."

Chapter 64: Darkness Falls in the Brilliant Light Bella I'd just snorted a bunch of shit in a room full of teddy bears and Poohs. I might've done too much. Everything swirled. My thoughts were incoherent as I stumbled around. Thoughts of Edward's toes mixed with ones about where the fuck I was. I wondered why anyone would pick this shade of paint to put on their walls, and then quickly shifted into why I thought James Joyce's Ulysses was utterly unreadable. "What the fuck does anything mean?" I mumbled to myself as I slid down a wall. I pushed myself onto all fours and decided if I couldn't walk properly, I would try crawling. I was back in the room of Pooh. Eeyore laughed at me. The stupid fucking sad donkey fucking laughed. I emptied my little bag of happy white powder on some kind of flat surface and pushed the shit around until it was in heaps. Yes, this was a little bump. I could snort just a little more and save the rest for later. I thought I did snort it. Maybe I'd rubbed it on my gums. Maybe I'd licked it. My mouth tasted nasty and I wanted some fucking shit to drink. Where was I? I was fucking high. Like fucking high. Everything moved but me. Everything moved quickly by me. There was some chick with hair. Fiery red hair, not rusty-brown like his. His. His hair with rusty bronze color and fucking eyes. The fuck color were his eyes? They were the seathe orange sea with earthy green smells. Chick pointed. She pointed some more. I heard yelling. Sounds, really.

More pointing and then a door slammed. It felt like I was in one of those old movies. The silent ones where the speed of the film was so fucking slow that you could see the black in-between the frames. The scene was slowly flicking before my eyes. Then I floated upward, but it was painful. Guy with the burns was in front of me now. James. A fist came flying at me and I felt a little pain. I could only see out of one eye. I didn't know if I fell down, was pushed, or if James actually threw me down the stairs, but I knew I was suddenly at the bottom being pulled up by my hair. As his hand wrapped around my neck, I hoped that he'd squeeze even harder. I hoped that I wouldn't be able to breathe and this whole waste of a life could be over. I heard the sound of his voice and it made me smile. I laughed because it drowned out everything else, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. His hand tightened and I thought that maybe this was it. This was the moment I would slip into pure nothingness. Everyone could move on; they could move on from me. My toxicity would end and they would be free to become healthy again. Rusty red hair and jade eyes. Murky seaweed next to old metal. I felt a pain in my shoulder and heard a thud in my ear. I kicked out involuntarily. Just as my world dimmed, James released me and I slid down to the floor. Getting up on my hands and knees, I gasped for air and wished I was dead. Why did he have to let me go? While I was sad not to be dead, the ecstasy of the oxygen as it filled my starved brain was beautiful. It was a most excellent high. A hand wrapped in my hair and my movements were stilled and I was in pain. Suddenly Laurent was in front of me, stretched out on the floor. He wasn't hard. My arms shook and gave out as James assaulted on my body. I laid my head on Laurent's muscled stomach and felt him try to ease my hair out of James' hold. H wasn't able to and instead, James tightened his grip on my hair as he pulled me up against him. His other hand moved from my hip to my left breast and he squeezed hard until I groaned in pain. Laurent had a gentle hand on my thigh as James continued to hammer into me. I didn't know which I hated more. I deserved the violent fucking James was giving me, but I was wholly unworthy of the strange comfort of Laurent's touch. I looked around the room, scanning the corners for cobwebs, wishing I could see a little spider hidden in its home. But there was nothing.

I was nothing. Please, let me be nothing! The emptiness within me refused to be replaced with anything of substance. I was a shell that had long been discarded as a home for life. I wondered as I listened to the sounds of our violent fucking if this was truly the life I would lead. My hope that he would accidently kill me was gone. James was a soldier and had killed people before, but he didn't like fucking them as much as he liked fucking me. James wasn't a bad guy. He liked to fuck hard and he gave me no more pain than I asked for. He liked to drink, but had every right to enjoy it. He got louder as he released me. I was lying on Laurent again, but James had flipped me over and as usual, he fisted his dick, pumping it over my stomach until he came on me. When he was finished, he leaned down, his hand covering one of my breasts, the nipple between his thumb and index finger. His other hand covered my mouth as he twisted my breast painfully. I cried into his hand. "Don't ever bring that shit around again." I nodded and after he'd given me a stern warning with his eyes, he released me. I could barely focus, but my ears were sharp. "Get that bitch cleaned up and then get her the fuck out of my house." As he headed back upstairs, I found myself unable to move. Laurent sat me up, and used James' discarded shirt to wipe the cum off of me. Then he helped me into my clothes. "Little lamb, it's time to go." I licked my lips. I wondered what Edward was doing right now and the thought made me feel even more worthless and dirty. Laurent easily picked me up and took me out to his car. "He could have killed you," he said finally. He'd been silent for an hour as we made the familiar drive back to Seattle. My throat hurt, but I still managed to say, "I know." "Are you hungry, Lamb?" I shook my head and closed my eyes. I didn't want Laurent's concern. I must have fallen asleep because when I felt myself being pulled close to something, I jerked awake, clawing at whatever it was. "Shhhh," Laurent whispered. I froze and my mind took me back to places I never wanted to be. I could feel a hand on my chest, pressing me down, even though both of Laurent's were accounted for as he carried me up the stairs to his apartment. I could feel warm breath on my ear, even though Laurent was facing forward, looking ahead. Quiet, Bella. My breathing got ragged and everywhere I looked I saw him with his skull tattoo and short brown hair. I could feel the disgusting hard calluses of his hands against my soft skin. I could hear his voice calling me a dirty girl in my ear, his moans much too close to me. All of my cocaine was ground into the carpet at James' house. When Laurent set me down on his expensive couch, I curled into the tightest ball I could. He sat down next to me and swept the hair away from my face. He had never hurt me, but his comfort wounded me just as much as anything James had done.

"I need some coke." "Don't worry," he soothed in his thick accented voice. "It's on the way." I felt sick and jittery. I would surely die if I didn't get it now. "But I need it." "It's coming, Lamb." "I need it now." I'd come to kneel next to him, my hands fisting his shirt. He was warm and his body was hard. I felt a gravitational pull as I pressed myself against him. Laurent refused to fuck me even though we'd done it before on James' couch. I moved to sit on top of him because I had a need for something not only to dull my mind, but also my body, and I had no coke thanks to James and his massive freak-out. I buried my face in his neck. I'd watched him when he fucked. He liked women who were nearly six feet tall, with bigger breasts and fuller hips. He liked it when they ran their hands over his chest and tickled his neck with their faces. He liked hair against his skin. I could feel him growing hard beneath me, even though he was denying me again. "No, Lamb. You're too small." Again, he hadn't cared last time. Ignoring him, I got my hand between our bodies and grabbed his dick. I loved how fucking big he was. Laurent was meant to be in porn movies. Regardless that he was telling me no, I was determined to make it happen. I needed him. I needed him until I got some coke. He could satisfy me until then. He pushed away halfheartedly. "You didn't give a shit about how small I was when you fucked me with James." He stopped moving and I glanced at his face. He wore a confused expression. "I fucked you with James?" I nearly laughed. He must have really been out of it. He stopped trying to still me, instead cupping my ass as I nibbled on the tight cord in his neck. He felt so good. When my body wouldn't move on its own any longer, Laurent moved it for me. He kept drawing out every last sensation I could take, making my eyes water as my mind quieted. Finally, I accepted that I was dirty, just like he said I was. When Laurent's dude showed up with the shit, I was lying naked on the couch, just a thin scrap of blanket sheilding me from his dealer's eyes. Time moved quickly and when I blinked, he was gone. Laurent caressed my cheek and I fought back the urge to vomit from his tender touch. "He didn't have what you wanted, my Lamb." His words sunk in. There was no cocaine. "But I will make it better for you. I promise you, Lamb, I will make it better." I watched as he spread my toes apart and slid the needle in. "No," I whispered, much too late. Edward would be so upset. He would be so hurt when he found out, but I was powerless. The junk he injected into my bloodstream obliterated everything inside of my head. I felt lost within it. I was nothing but a lump for who knew how many hours. When my mind finally awoke, I was lying on the floor in the middle of the room, still naked, but definitely in a different position. Little snippets of

memory returned to me, most of it involving Laurent's naked body. Already I craved more. I needed it more than I'd ever needed anything in my entire life. It blocked out everything I didn't want to feel, and if I just stayed with Laurent, I could have as much of it as I wanted. There was a new cycle to my existence. Laurent and I still went to James' on the weekend, but now I got fucked by both of them regularly, which, despite leaving me more physically filled, left me even emptier than before. The heroin provided a gentle nothingness to accompany my emptiness. On the weekdays, Laurent left me alone in his apartment with enough pills to satisfy me. He was some kind of financier or something. He left his heroin in the lockbox, but that was fine since I had no idea how much, would be too much or not enough. I'd never used it without him. He was always the one to inject it. I was fearful that I would make a mistake. I wasn't afraid of death. In fact, I was sort of chasing it, but I didn't want to OD alone in his apartment. There was no way to mark the time. Days bled together with nights and weeks were nothing more than a blink amidst an ocean of time. I was fine with all of it until one day, early morning or late night, I awoke with hands on my body, a limp penis still inside me. I looked around, only knowing Laurent's face amongst the three other people on the floor. I had no idea what had happened, but I knew that I'd been intimately involved. I felt shame, but only because I thought of Edward. I missed him. I needed to get high. Shuffling sleeping arms and legs away from me, I slid out of the bodies and made my way through the foggy apartment to the bathroom. I stared at my naked body for what seemed to be hours, my eyes focusing on the new marks, bruises, scratches, and reddened skin. Who would love me now? I couldn't sleep and I couldn't get high again. I wanted so desperately to have this shit out of my head, but I couldn't find Laurent's stash. The lockbox was open, but empty. Fear gripped me that perhaps with all these people over, we had depleted everything. The room spun and I felt sick. There was nothing to empty into the toilet. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten more than a bite of baguette or half a biscotti. I couldn't eat here. I wanted to go home. I needed to get high. I needed to be in Charlie's little kitchen with the stupid spot on the floor. I needed to hear the whirl of his older-than-shit refrigerator. I wanted to see cellophane-wrapped fillets of wild fish in the freezer and a case of beer in the 'fridge. I wanted to hear the sounds of whatever sport he had on floating in from the living room. I needed to go home. I needed to get high. I searched. I searched through the bed, tearing off the sheets. I searched every nook in the place and then searched through the fibers of the carpet. I found nothing.

Laurent and his friends were out of it. I drifted through them to find clothes and money. At one point, Laurent grabbed my ankle and I froze. He smiled up at me and mumbled "Lamb," before closing his eyes again. In the pocket of someone's discarded pants, I found a little coke. It wasn't what I wanted, but it would have to do. I shoved it up my nose and sucked the thin threads for good measure. There was a little bit more under some chick's hand. I licked her skin and held my nose close to the carpet. I inhaled and then threw up nothing but bile again. I felt a little better, but was having trouble catching my breath, and I was thirsty as hell. With one-hundred-and-fifty bucks in my pocket, I grabbed a cab. The driver was annoyed that he would have to take me all the way to Forks, but I threw the money at him and wrapped myself up into a ball for the duration of the ride. Charlie's house seemed bigger than ever before, and very intimidating. It was dark. I still didn't know what time it was. I had no way in. I didn't have any idea where my keys, ID, or anything I had left had gone. I sat down on the porch and just waited. I might've fallen asleep if I hadn't been shivering so badly. A light came on after a long while and there were noises from inside the house. I knocked. Charlie's face was white and shocked as he stood there looking at me, an empty coffee mug hanging from his fingers. "Bella?" he said. I shifted. "I'm hungry, Charlie." With a stiff-looking body, he moved to the side and I made my way into the house, my shoulder brushing him as I passed. I gathered food into my arms and sat down in the middle of the floor and ate. His house had gotten dirty again. I would have to clean. I didn't look at the spot on the floor. I didn't want to see it because if I did, I'd have to realize that it would never come up. The floor would always be marked. "Bella?" "I'm tired," I said, standing up, disregarding the items that had previously been resting on my lap as they tumbled to the ground. My breathing was hard. He followed me to the stairs where he caught my arm. My normal reaction would have been to pull away, but this time I just let him grip me gently. "You can't leave again, Bella. You need to get help and I can't" "'s fine. After I sleep you can take me anywhere you want. I'll go to rehab if you just let me sleep right now." I had no words to express how tired I honestly was. I meant it. I would go to rehab if he let me rest for just a minute. "Bella, I'm serious. You were gone for" "I know, Dad, but just let me sleep right now. You can take me to rehab after I" "What did you say?" My mind and vision were clouded with fog. His hand was still wrapped round my arm, but his face was smooth and seemed to lack definition. I just wanted to sink down onto my bed and be swallowed by

the abyss of sleep. I just needed to relax and make my breath steady. "Just let me sleep and I'll go to rehab when I wake up." "No, I heard that. You called me 'Dad.'" I blinked and my knees buckled. I needed to go lie down. "No, I didn't." Why would I call him "Dad?" I hadn't called him that in many, many years. "Are you okay, Bella?" I just wanted to go to sleep. "Yes." "Where have you been?" I couldn't muster up enough energy to be angry, but I did pull my arm out of his grasp. "Getting fucked-up and fucked." Although everything in my vision was blurred by the need for sleep, I could still see the shock that rippled through him. I hadn't meant to say it, but I had and now Charlie would have to deal with it. I took two steps up, but paused when he said my name again. Silence rang in my ears and I held onto the railing for support. "Do you still love me, Daddy?" My legs were shaking and I thought I might have to sit down for a minute. His muffled voice said something to me, but I couldn't tell exactly what it was. I tried focusing on his lips but the frown underneath the mustache was too much. "Sleep now. You be mad later," I mumbled, not really thinking about what I was saying. Traveling upstairs on weak legs, I made it to my room where I flopped down onto my bed without locking my door. Nothing was any different than the last time I'd been in here. I was so tired. My body was sore and I was still tired when I awoke. Sun shone brightly into my room. Had my mind not been so sluggish, I would have wondered if it was the first time I'd ever seen the Washington sun upon waking, but my mind was sluggish and all it could do was tell me to eat something. Maybe I was just thirsty. I practically fell out of bed, my vision tunneled. My feet led me down the stairs automatically. I held onto the railing for fear my sloppy movements would cause me to tumble. It was quiet in the kitchen. I heard some murmurs to my right, but my vision only let me see the refrigerator. I shoved random food into my mouth, anxious to get something solid into my gurgling stomach. Not even shutting the refrigerator, I left the kitchen in a daze. The sun was too bright, so fucking brilliant. The murmurs were becoming too loud, fucking deafening. They silenced in the wake of a loud thud and the pain that reverberated throughout my body. Then my world went dark.

Chapter 65: The Deepest Truth Edward Summer was drawing to an end. Esme and Alice had accompanied Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper to California to set them up in their new apartment. Jasper had finally made the decision to go to Stanford and wait for Alice there. She seemed to take it well enough. There was no blood and barely any tears.

I stayed behind with Carlisle. I felt like I'd come much further in regards to my health and wellness, but I hadn't wanted to push my luck. Staying in a hotel in a strange town seemed like too much for me to handle. I was comfortable here. I was comfortable with Carlisle. I said goodbye to my college-bound friends and brother, and Liam as well. Both Alice and I were calmed by the knowledge that we would still have each other, at least for another year. While I wanted to panic, when I thought about how in one short year, I'd probably lose Alice from my life, I remembered what Dr. Eleazar taught me. I was in control of my body, and it couldn't panic if I didn't let it. Alice would be in my life until she was not. I would continue to breathe and function, just like I continued to live, even though I hadn't heard from Bella in a very long time. I thought about her every day and wondered where she was and if she was happy. When my thoughts turned dark and I wondered if she was dead or hurt, I forced myself to put it from my mind. As much as I still loved her, I had to take the power away from her memory. Like Dr. Eleazar said, she had chosen to leave and I could be as upset as I wanted, but it would just waste energy. I wasn't in control over other people, just myself, so I focused on that. I'd gotten the senior reading list and was going through the books. I knew I would read them again when the teacher actually assigned them, but I needed the distraction. There were too many hours to keep myself occupied. I played music at least four hours every day. For two of those hours, I played the works of others, and then composed during the remaining two. An entire drawer in my desk was now filled with finished pieces. Maybe one day I would record them, if only to have something of myself on one of my bookshelves. My room was back to what it once was. My art books had been replaced along with everything else I'd destroyed. I worried about putting her Lonely Ear back up on the wall, but she was a part of who I was now, even if she wasn't with me. So after hours of debate and a few stray tears, it was where it was supposed to be. Every day the green rock Bella loved was in my pocket, and every night I returned it to its place in front of The Silmarillion. Since visiting Chicago, I felt more comfortable here; not just in my room, but in Carlisle's house altogether. He worked very hard to ensure I was cared for and every time I looked around, I never saw anything that gave me painful reminders of my past. Carlisle had never raised his hand to me and had never pressured me to be anything other than who I was. No one had ever hurt me here, and I acknowledged the difference between the dark house in Chicago and this house with light flooding through every window. While the others were in California, Carlisle and I went to the store and bought house plants. It was nice to have life back in the house. I promised myself that I would keep them alive, just as Kate would have done. I still had nightmares and I still woke with teeth impressions on my hands, but I didn't bite them while

I was awake. It was a start. When I felt upset, I played music. When I was really upset, I wrote letters. Some of them I shredded, and others I kept. I had a stack to Bella in the drawer beside my bed. After returning from Chicago, I went to Bella's house. No one came with me and I was proud of myself for being able to ring the doorbell. I knew she wouldn't be there, but I wanted to see the space she'd left behind. Her father answered and I didn't panic. I spent a half-hour in her room. It was sad to see the few things she'd tacked to her wall had been ripped down at some point. Everything looked old and dusty. Her father must've been lonely, because he asked if I wanted to watch a baseball game with him. I stayed for an hour. It was silent and uncomfortable, but he was the closest living thing I had to Bella. Their frowns were the same. His brown eyes would sparkle like hers, only she probably wouldn't have cared about a homerun like he did. When I left, he asked if I would let him know if I hear from her. It was the only time he said her name and he couldn't look me in the eyes when he did. I knew something was going on when Esme and Alice returned home two days early. I hadn't thought anything would drag Esme away from her kids and the new baby so soon. It must have been something big if Alice agreed to leave Jasper even a second earlier than she'd anticipated. Esme was gone as soon as she came into the house. It seemed like she was just dropping Alice off and sharing a few words with Carlisle. I asked Alice what was going on. "I don't know. She got a call. I think it was from Chief Swan," she said, her voice tentative like I would crumble. In truth, I did feel a little like crumbling, but I didn't know if Alice was right or if it even had anything to do with Bella. "D-d-did Esme ssssay anything?" Alice shook her head. She looked sad. "You'll b-be o-o-okay wwwwwithout J-J-JJJasper?" She smiled, obviously delighted that I asked. Sometime during my hospital stay, I realized how I'd completely ignored Alice and her concerns. I'd been a bad friend and since she was technically my sister, I'd been a horrible brother. All I'd done was care for her physical wounds, but I did nothing for the wounds that remained unseen. "I'll be okay," she answered, voice quiet. "If he finds someone else, then it wasn't meant to be." I was confused. That was actually a pretty sound statement coming from Alice. She'd never been able to see straight when it came to him, but I suppose I didn't either when I was with Bella either.

She saw my expression and rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'll totally still freak-out, but I understand that I can't always" She paused and gave a little sigh. "People leave and I can't control that." We saw nothing more of Esme until the afternoon of the next day. Carlisle had gone into work early and Alice and I spent our free morning drinking coffee and listening to whatever New Age music she currently found enlightening. I couldn't complain because I was happy to spend time with her like we used to do. The music wasn't the focus anyway. When Esme showed up, she was very serious and the way she flitted around the house with no real purpose made me anxious. Finally, she entered the living room and regarded us. She took a deep breath, folded her hands in her lap and then locked eyes with me. "Bella came home yesterday." I sat up instantly. "B-B-B-B-B" "She slept all day and then" "C-c-c-can I gggggggg" "Edward, she's in a coma." My mouth snapped closed as my mind tried to wrap around her words. I heard Alice gasp and then felt her grasp my hands. "W-w-w-w-what?" "She's in the hospital." Bella was gone. She left. She ran away from her father in Seattle on her way to rehab. She wasn't in the hospital, and she certainly wasn't in a coma. I was having issues dealing with the obviously false things Esme was saying. "I d-d-d-d-don't und-d-dddderstand." "Carlisle thinks that perhaps it started out as a hypoglycemic episode, but advanced into diabetic ketoacidosis when she ate, resulting in her coma." There was a long pause and then Alice said, "We don't understand any of that." "She rapidly went from having too much insulin from her injections, to not enough. Her blood sugar was elevated significantly and she was severely dehydrated." I closed my eyes and thought of music notes on paper. I followed the lines down the page until I'd calmed my heart rate. So Bella was in the hospital. She hadn't been taking care of her diabetes and now she was in a coma. People came out of comas all the time.

"B-b-b-but ssssshe'll be all right?" Esme gave me a weak smile. "It's really too soon to tell. Her body has been through a lot and it's fighting very hard right now." I really didn't have a problem with hospitals, but knowing that I was about to enter Bella's room made me sick to my stomach. I could have held Alice's hand, but on the off-chance Bella had already awakened, I wanted both my hands free. I felt shocked when I stepped through the door. Her father was half-asleep in the chair next to the huge hospital bed which dwarfed her body. She looked incredibly thin and pale, as if she hadn't eaten since I'd last seen her. She had a tube delivering oxygen to her nose, two IVs in her arm, and electrodes taped onto each of her temples, plus wires disappearing down the neck of her gown. Machines beeped next to her. She looked awful. I wanted to run from the sight of her. I didn't run. I moved closer to her, ignoring everyone else. Her father moved and I took his seat. I'd never visited anyone besides Alice in the hospital before and I never knew anyone in a coma. It wasodd to see her chest move up and down but know that her brain wasn't functioning as it should be. I wondered if it was dark where she was or if she was surrounded by light. I hoped for light. She hated the dark. Maybe I should've said something, just to let her know that I was here, but I couldn't do much more than look at her. It wasn't like in the movies when the person just looked like they were sleeping. Bella looked dead. Esme touched my shoulder and drew my attention to her. "Will you be okay being in here while Carlisle discusses a few things with her father, or would you feel better if you waited outside?" I looked to Chief Swan. Would he want me to hear? He glanced at me, but shrugged. "I w-w-w-w-want to hhhhhear." Her father said nothing and Carlisle only nodded before speaking. "We can't be positive until she wakes up, but the tests indicate a stroke." Chief Swan looked shocked. "A stroke?" Before Carlisle could respond, I said, "W-w-w-wwwwwhen wwwwwill she w-w-w-wake up?" Carlisle looked at me and sighed before answering Bella's father. "The elevated sugar forced her body to work too hard. Plaque build-up and blood clots are the usual suspects. With diabetics, their bodies

can't build new pathways for the blood as a healthy person would, so in short, she didn't get enough blood to her brain." Then he turned to me, his face calm, almost unreadable. I supposed he was in doctor-mode. "We don't know if she will wake up. This is where science cannot predict what will happen." He turned back to Chief Swan. "We don't know the extent, if any, of brain damage she may have suffered." I turned back to Bella, needing to see her in order to keep any semblance of calm. I felt Alice's small hands run through my hair. It helped. "We've run every blood test you asked for, as well as anything else I could think of, and most of the results are back." Suddenly it was quiet, so I looked back at the adults. Carlisle threw me a glance before silently asking Chief Swan again if it was okay that Alice and I were in the room. He said, "They're fine. What were the results, Carlisle?" Again, he shot me a look. "Negative on HIV and the host of others." "Thank God!" Everything about this situation should have had me freaking out, but I wasn't. "She'll need to be tested again in three months, and if that's negative, every six months for a few years. She is, however, being treated for Chlamydia." At Chief Swan's sigh, I moved the chair closer to the bed, but didn't look at her dead-but-alive body, partly because it hurt, but also because they were discussing private things that made me think of everything she might've done or could've happened to her while she was away. "What about" "Charlie, let's discuss the rest out" "We'll discuss it right here. What did she test positive for?" Carlisle's eyes locked with mine and already I hurt. I knew they were talking about drugs now. "Her system was pretty toxic." "With what?" Chief Swan's voice was steady, but demanding. My adoptive father shifted, bringing her chart behind him. "She had traces of many drugs, but the highest concentration was of benzoylemthylecgonine and diacetylmorphine." With his hands on his hips, Bella's father finally looked directly at her for a moment, and then whipped his head back to Carlisle. "I know I'm a cop, but I'd appreciate that in English, please." "Cocaine and heroin," he answered simply. I felt like I couldn't breathe. Chief Swan looked like the wind had been knocked out of him as well. "But she doesn't have any"

"The primary injection site was between her toes. The secondary site was on her right hip." Her father took a few steps to the end of the bed where he pulled up the sheets and examined Bella's feet. I was stuck to my chair as he spread her toes apart. His heavy exhale was confirmation. Bella had been doing heroin. She said she would neverbut she obviously had and now she was in a diabetic coma. Her indiscriminate drug use probably caused it or at least helped to push her poor body over the edge. No wonder Carlisle wanted to discuss this away from me. Bella had been abusing the same drug my mother had beforebefore she died. I pinched my eyes shut. I knew Dr. Eleazar would have wanted me to use the appropriate term for how my mother died, but in this instant, I didn't care about any of that. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to run away, and yet I needed to be close to Bella. I didn't want her to die. My body was incredibly tense. "It was her choice to leave, Edward." I was startled by Esme's voice. I turned to her. Somehow she'd managed to rest her hand on my arm without my feeling it. I also became aware of Alice's continued soothing strokes of her fingers through my hair. "W-w-w-what?" "You didn't cause this. This is not your fault." How could she really say that? I'd obviously not been enough for her, just like I wasn't enough to tie my mother to this world. I shook my head. I couldn't start thinking like that. I'd made a lot of progress this summer, and I couldn't let negative self-talk defeat everything I'd fought for. "I kn-know." I wondered how long they'd let me stay. I wondered when they would chase me out. Knowing that at best I had limited time in her room, and at worst, she had limited time on this earth; I reached out and carefully pulled her hand to the edge of the bed. I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees and grasped her smallest finger. I thought back to the first time we'd linked fingers. It calmed me and I smiled. Slowly, I brought each finger into my hand one at a time, until her entire delicate hand was within mine. The others left the room and came back, left again, and returned, but I was unaware of anything but the girl in the bed. Despite whatever she'd done while she was away, I still loved her. There were certain universal truths I knew to be indisputable in this world, most of them unexplainable or based on faith:

God existed in some form and the God I Am was present in every living being. There was meaning in everything; one just had to look for it. You get what you give and the Buddhist notion of karma was a principal element in this universe. But the deepest truth I could recognize within me was that I loved Bella Swan. I loved everything about her, unconditionally. It didn't matter what she'd done or where she'd been, this tiny little person lying in this great big bed owned my heart and if I truly had one, my soul too.

Chapter 66: Damage Edward I'd been at the hospital everyday for six days straight. I was there almost as much as Bella's father. They wouldn't let me stay in the room all the time, so I would go to the cafeteria or gift shops. Even when visiting hours were over, I found it difficult to leave. I bought her new flowers every day. Today I brought her a dish garden since she preferred plants to cut flowers. When we were alone, I whispered to her. I didn't know if she heard, but by whispering, I cut my stuttering by at least half. There was no way of knowing if she actually did hear what I was saying, and if she understood. Carlisle would tell me that it was possible she had severe brain damage and she may never function again. I drew comfort from holding her hand or linking our fingers together. I told her about my entire summer, but stopped myself from speculating on hers. Right before I was going to say goodnight to her on the sixth night, the littlest finger of her left hand twitched. I stared at her hand, but nothing more happened and I thought I'd imagined it. I reluctantly let go and was leaning down to kiss her forehead like every night, when I noticed her swallow. And then her eyelids fluttered. Then she sat up straight and I panicked because she began trying to tear off her oxygen tube. My heart pounded and my mind raced, but I was able to push the nurse button quickly. As bad as I felt, there was still some rational thought in me. It was heartbreakingly clear to see that she wasn't moving the right side of her body at all, while the other half was in full motion. Bella's father came running in right after the nurse. He must've seen her rush in. For a moment, he looked happy and relieved to see that she wasn't just lying there looking like death, but then he realized half of her body wasn't working and his face fell. There was too much to pay attention to, so I stopped trying. I felt sick and I really wanted to bite my hand, but I kept them both very tightly curled at my sides. It was Carlisle's day off, so other doctors came to help, followed by more nurses. Chief Swan and I were pushed to the back of the room, which was just as well. I didn't want to see what they were doing. I had to have faith that all those people were competent and wouldn't hurt her. All I could see was Bella's right foot and it only moved when one of the hospital staff repositioned her body.

Chief Swan's gaze was fixed on the bed as he shifted next to me. One hand was tugging on his mustache while the other was pulling at his hair. He was usually a very calm and stoic man, but he was incredibly agitated and I wanted to help him in some way. It was horrible to be here watching as Bella went through this, but I could only imagine what it must be like to be a father watching his daughter go through this. "D-d-d-d-ddddd" He turned and his eyes bore into me as I grew even more anxious. Bella definitely had his intense eyes. "I-I-I-I'll c-c-c-c-call C-C-C-C-Carlisle." It seemed to take a second for his brain to process what I said, but then he nodded and said, "Yes. Yes, please." I pushed through the sludge of panic and called home, but there was no answer, so I called his cell phone and when he said hello all I could say was, "Bella." "I know. They already paged me. I'm on my way now." Chief Swan and I were told to go to the waiting room. I looked around. The big TV and chairs were meant to put people at ease, but it wasn't working for either of us. I watched his knee bounce up and down, up and down, up and down. Bella did that too when she was anxious. I tried to keep all of my thoughts positive, but I couldn't keep my hand from moving to my mouth. I didn't break the skin, but just scraped and nibbled a little at the knuckle on my index finger. At some point, he said, "She'll be fine," under his breath, but I didn't think he was talking to me. Actually, I didn't think he'd knew he said it out loud. After what had to be hours, Carlisle came in with a tall woman with long black hair and olive skin. Bella's father stood up, but I couldn't. Carlisle looked at me and I became acutely aware that I was nibbling on my finger, so I pulled my hand away and sat on it. He smiled, obviously pleased. I liked it when he was proud of me, even though it made me sort of uncomfortable. "This is Dr. Kebi. She's the staff neurologist. You'll be seeing a lot of her." She held out her hand to Chief Swan and he shook it. She wasted no time. "Bella's suffered a stroke. From the test we've run, I would classify it as moderate to major, and she's suffered some brain damage." Chief Swan sucked in a deep breath and took a step back. He looked how I felt. He turned to Carlisle. "But youdid that, that, that thing with the" "Charlie, the CT scan we did when she first arrived is great at showing hemorrhagic strokes, but it will only detect ischemic strokes several hours after the event." "W-w-w-w-w-what's the d-d-d-d-d" Carlisle looked at me, and I felt calmer, like there was someone on my side ready to help me if the anxiety blossomed. "A hemorrhagic stroke is caused by bleeding in the brain, while an ischemic is a blockage of blood flow." He turned back to Bella's father. "Basically she had a blood clot which prevented oxygenated blood from reaching her brain. In the absence of oxygen, some of her cells died." "Which means brain damage," Dr. Kebi added. "She's asleep now, but" "What?" Chief Swan said loudly. "She just woke up and let her go back to sleep?" He moved toward the

door, but Carlisle stopped him. "There's a difference between being in a coma and sleeping. Her brain patterns are as normal as they can be right now. She's just sleeping." "It's important for her to rest, Mr. Swan. Once she wakes again, we'll have to find out the extent of the damage." "WhatHow can...What are the possibilities?" I felt bad for him. He looked and sounded so exhausted. "I don't care to speculate at this point," Dr. Kebi said. Bella's father bristled. "I'll be back in a few hours," she said to Carlisle. Chief Swan's whole body tensed. "Call if she wakes up sooner." Once she left, Carlisle tried to calm him. "Charlie, you need to understand that Bella won't be the same, no matter how mild or severe the damage is. Right now, just from what we know from the the CT scan and observation, there was a substantial death of brain cells and she's lost the use of her right side. At best, she'll have some cognitive issues, possibly speech, vision, and hearing impairments, as well as some behavioral changes. She'll definitely need physical and occupational therapy, and possibly speech therapy as well." He paused and looked at me, then back to Chief Swan. "And I suggest that once she's physically well enough, she go to a chemical addiction treatment facility." My heart hurt. We had just gotten her back from Seattle and now she'd have to go away again. Obviously her father wasn't thrilled either. "But she's over the withdrawal, right? I mean, the coma" Carlisle nodded. "The coma offset some of the heavy symptoms. Physically, the addiction's passed, but addiction is a mental issue as well. Even if we get the best-case scenario from tomorrow's assessments and there is little to no outward effect of the brain damage, Bella's a drug addict and she's proven that it's not something she can control." He put a hand on Chief Swan's shoulder. "She's young enough to learn how to get a handle on it, but if she doesn't receive help, these medical complications will be nothing more than the beginning of a very short life of drug-related issues." Carlisle made me go home, even though he let Bella's father stay at the hospital. I tried to protest and he was sympathetic, but refused to change his mind. I spent most of the night worrying about her slipping back into a coma, having another stroke, or running away again. I probably only got an hour or two of sleep and hit the coffee pot heavily as soon as I could. Esme was over and she asked how Bella was and how I was handling it. She wasn't being a clinical psychiatrist, she was being a concerned mother, but she did ask if I wanted her to call Dr. Eleazar. I didn't have time for a session. I told her that I was fine, just worried about Bella. She said it was to be expected, but the stress of the situation had the potential of becoming too much. I drove myself back to the hospital. Esme and Alice would come later. I arrived just in time to see her open her. Carlisle and a few nurses tended to her physical well-being while the neurologist was called. Once Dr. Kebi got there, the assessments started. Chief Swan and I were told to remain quiet and relatively out-of-sight. Carlisle asked her to do a few physical tasks, such as push against his hand with her feet and squeeze an orange ball. Her left side was fine but she failed every task when it came to performing them with her right.

She hadn't spoken. My body was tight as her father's knee bounced beside me. I kept my hands shoved into my pockets. Dr. Kebi started a few simple assessments, showing her the ball and asking what it was. Tears welled in Bella's eyes and her tongue wiggled. "Do you know what it is?" She nodded and a tear slipped down her cheeks. "Say what it is." My mind kept saying, "ball, ball, ball," as if trying to supply the answer for her. "Can you not say it or is it that you can't think of the word?" No reply from Bella. Dr. Kebi set the ball on the bed. "I want you to say the words that I say, okay? Caaaat." She drew out the small word and then waited for a response. "CCCCCCCCaaaaart." Bella's voice was raspy and raw, but the mere sound of it sent calming chemicals through my body. "Mouse." "MMMMMMoursh." "Dog." Her mouth moved, but the only thing I heard was air being pushed out. Then, "Dooooah." Then Dr. Kebi said, "Guh, guh. Dog. Guh, guh," emphasizing the "g" sound. "Ah, ah." The doctor nodded and told Bella she'd done a good job and that they were going to take a short break while the nurse took her vitals. Dr. Kebi and Carlisle came over to speak with Chief Swan. "Obvious speech impairment. We'll test her hearing and vision later, but I'd like go back to item recognition. She indicated that she knew what the ball was, but she couldn't say the word." She looked at Bella's father. "There are times when there's a disruption between the impulses the brain sends, and the ability to actually comply with them and others where there is an actual void of impulses. It's important that we discover if she can truly understand what the item is or if she's just having trouble finding the word for it." When the assessments began again, the doctor used flashcards with pictures and words, covering up the words. "Bella, tell me what this is." It took a while but finally, she answered. "Brat." "No. Try again." She shook her head. "Brat." I assumed that what she was really saying was bat, which was a logical connection to make with "ball." Dr. Kebi uncovered the written word and immediately, Bella nodded. "Brall." "Good. Do you know what it is?" Again she nodded and they had gone through at least twenty cards, when she asked Chief Swan to come over. "Who is this?" I watched as her left hand balled into a fist and as she began to cry again. She was trying. It seemed like she knew, but was having issues getting it out. I understood the frustration. It took her over a minute but finally, she said, "DDDDaaaad."

Chief Swan smiled widely. It was the first time I'd ever heard her call him that. "Very good, Bella. What's his name?" The left side of her face showed her frustration. "Charlie," Carlisle supplied after Dr. Kebi nodded to him. "Charlie Swan." Bella nodded emphatically. "Charliwe. Swern." Carlisle nodded to me and I grew nervous. My feet automatically propelled me forward, my hands fisted in my pockets. I wanted her to remember me and remember how to say my name instantly, above all else. Another tear. "Boyfreeeeeen." I couldn't help but smile. I was delighted she'd used that word. I probably felt the same as her father did when hearing her say "dad." In Bella's mind, I was "boyfriend." Suddenly my name didn't matter. "Do you know his name, Bella?" She nodded and her mouth moved, but again, no sound came out. "Can you tell me his name?" She looked panicked and I was growing tired of everyone just watching her fail like this. It was clear how hard she was trying. "E-E-E-Edward," I said, not caring that everyone looked upset that I supplied the answer. The left side of her mouth lifted up just slightly. "Edrrrrard." We were sitting in the hospital cafeteria and Alice was asking all sorts of questions that I let Carlisle and Esme answer. I didn't know if there was some sort of clause of confidentially they were breaking, but there was no way I would be able to give her all of the information she was requesting. Plus, she'd been in the room when Bella's father told Carlisle it was okay to say all those things in front of us. If Alice heard about the results of Bella's drug and STD tests, I supposed it was okay for Carlisle to tell her that Bella would need to relearn all of the little tasks that the rest of us took for granted. "Like what?" she asked before taking a bite of her disgusting hospital cafeteria instant potatoes and making a face. "Like buttoning her shirt and holding a cup of water. She'll have to relearn how to walk and in some cases, talk." I just let them continue as I thought about seeing Bella again. I hadn't been able to touch her all day, and I was anxious to hold her hand again. Soon, she'd be able to hold my hand and run her hands through my hair, and we could go back to the meadow before school started and spend all day looking at the clouds. Then it hit me. School was about to start in two weeks. If they were talking about all of this physical therapy and then shipping her off for drug rehabilitation, she wouldn't be finished by the time school started. The thought of going to school without her made my heart thump hard in my chest. "I-I-I-I c-c-c-can b-b-b-bring hhhhher ssssssschoolw-w-work t-t-to her." "Edward," Esme said softly. "I-I kn-know ssssshe c-c-can't gggggo rrrrrright aw-w-way, but if I b-b-bring hhhhher the lllllessons and hhhhhelp hhhhher ssssshe c-can" "Edward," Esme said again, touching my arm. I looked at her. "Bella will probably need to finish her

senior year at home with the help of a tutor." Carlisle cleared his throat, looking at me, and then at the people around us. Most of them looked sad. "That's if she's retained the cognitive ability to learn at a normal rate." "But she you said she did okay with the flash cards," Alice pointed out. "She could" "Just because she could recognize pictures of cars, fruits, and animals doesn't mean she's going to have the mental faculties to be able to do Trigonometry or formulate hypotheses in Physics. She may never regain the ability to do any of those things and quite honestly, it could be a challenge for her just to relearn how to learn." I spent the rest of the summer with her in that hospital room. Mostly I held her hand while she cried. She never articulated the cause the tears she didn't need to, but she always stopped crying when someone else entered the room, especially her father. I knew her well enough to know that she was probably thinking I shouldn't want her in my life after everything that happened, but I'd always known that the second she came back into my life, I would forgive her. There was never a time when my love for her wavered. She rarely spoke. Her impaired speech weighed on her mind. I understood the feeling well. Sometimes she would let me go to her physical therapy sessions with her when Chief Swan wasn't available. The hospital staff always let someone accompany her if she wanted, but sometimes she wouldn't let me. Today she was working on walking for the first time. Just last week she'd been able to put weight on her right leg. The therapist guided her along, but Bella had to do all the work. There were rails to either side of her, but with only one working arm, she struggled to just remain upright. She fell twice, but even though the lady saved her from planting her face into the floor, Bella still cried. It must have been frustrating to not be able to do something most babies can do by their first birthday. It must have been even worse not being able to articulate how she felt about any of it. My mind supplied her curse words in the appropriate places. I smiled when I thought about her foul mouth and even though I didn't enjoy cussing, I hoped that she'd be able to say "shit" and "fuck" soon. I missed those words and I missed her voice. During meals, she would make me leave the room. Usually a nurse had to help her. She was working on feeding herself, but I guess she was self-conscious about it. I wished she'd let me help, but I understood that it would be embarrassing. Bella had always been independent and I was sure it was difficult to know that she could no longer be that way. Each night after dinner I had a solid two hours before the nurses or Carlisle would chase me out of the room. I did what I had done every night probably since before I could remember. I read. In my father's house, I read the Bible aloud, trying not to stammer and avoid punishment. In Carlisle's house, I read Seuss and other books aloud to improve my fluency. Now, I read aloud to Bella to keep her from feeling lonely and cut off. Also, if her brain was making new pathways for her neurons to travel, I figured active listening would help the process, and as a bonus it helped me with my stutter. I would usually read something off of the senior reading list. I would ask her which book she wanted, and sometimes she cared, but other times she didn't and I chose. We were almost done with Return of the King the night before school started. "D-don't wwwwworry, Bella, I'll c-come b-by rrrrrright after school." "Whert?" she said with wide eyes. She'd used her right hand to point at me, but then it flopped back down onto the bed. That was an amazing accomplishment, but I didn't think she'd want me to point it out.

"I-I-I-I hhhhhave to gggg-ggggo to school t-t-tomorrow." She started breathing heavy as she shook her head. Dr. Kebi, Carlisle, Esme, and her father had explained this to her. I knew she'd been told this five times, but I also knew that she would probably always have recall issues. Even if she was told time and again, there would be things she might never be able to remember. Carlisle said that she could be in the middle of a task, and have to be reminded about what she was doing. This was only one of the lasting cognitive effects of her stroke. She may never be able to think of the words she wanted to use. She may never finish projects she started. She might draw an "h" when she was trying to write a "g"' not that she could hold a pen yet. But now I was stuck explaining to her again that she wouldn't be attending school her senior year. Everyone seemed to agree that even after going to drug rehab, there was a long way to go before she could study high school course work. Instead of going to Seattle, they were sending her to the same hospital I went to in Port Angeles. There she would be able to get support for fighting her addictions, but also have access to physical, speech, and occupational therapy, as well as smaller groups dedicated to survivors of rape and sexual abuse. In short, the program would be tailor-made for her, just like it had been for me. I was just about to explain, when she started crying again. She must have remembered on her own. I felt bad for her. She couldn't even get off the bed without help, so she was stuck there weeping, and powerless, and I hated it. "D-d-d-do you www-wwwww-want me to g-go?" That just made her cry harder, so I set the book down, and went to sit with her one the bed, then picked up her right hand and squeezed it. "I llllove you, Bella." She shook her head as she stared at her lap. "I w-w-wwwwish you c-could g-g-go w-w-with mmmme, b-but I'll c-c-come b-by after." She stared at our hands and after a minute her index finger twitched. She choked back a sob and I realized that she'd been trying to pull her hand away, but couldn't. The powerlessness she felt must be overwhelming. I nearly felt sick from it. I let go of her hand and smiled. "I-I-I'll g-g-g-go." "No!" She still wouldn't look at me. I didn't think she'd looked into my eyes once since waking up. She wouldn't speak, so I had to interpret her actions myself. I began to realize how difficult it was for people to understand someone who was silent. I respected my family and the Hales that much more. She didn't want me to leave, but didn't want any touching either, so I sat back down in my chair and started reading again. I could tell that she wasn't paying attention, but I kept reading anyway. When I knew she'd mastered taking a shower, which was a huge event for her, I steamed up the mirror and with my finger scrawled, "I love Bella Swan." I didn't know if she'd take a shower hot enough to see it or if housekeeping would clean it before she had a chance, but it made me feel good to know it was there. I hoped she would see it and that she would feel good too. The first week of school had been tough because while my body was at Forks High, my mind was at Forks General. I visited every day after school and stayed until nine o'clock. The next Monday afternoon, I was in her room doing my math homework.

Monday was one of Bella's speech therapy days, so I knew she'd be back soon. I looked up and smiled when she came in, aided only by a nurse. It was so great to see her out of a wheelchair and walking almost on her own again. Her gait was sloppy and she was unsteady, but it was quite an accomplishment. The nurse set her down on the bed and Bella fidgeted. "O-o-okay?" She took a deep breath and then looked up at me. I held my breath. "I'mmmmmmmm soooooorryEEEEEdward." My heart was about to explode. She hadn't said my name that many times and she'd always said it wrong. But not today. There was more that she wanted to say, I could tell, but she was having trouble. I sat next to her and held her hand. My eyes were growing blurry with unshed tears and I could see hers do the same. Very slowly, I raised my hand to her neck and brushed my thumb lightly over her scar. "Ed-wa-rd," she said, every sound and syllable slow and deliberate. "I looooooooovvvvvvvve you." I exhaled and felt like I could sing.

Chapter 67: That Love You Made Bella They released me from the hospital on a Tuesday. At least, my dad told me it was a Tuesday. The days of the week hadn't held any meaning for me in a long time. The only thing Tuesday meant was that Edward would be away until evening. We pulled up to my house and my father opened my door. Edward was somewhere else. School, maybe. He'd told me. He'd probably told me twice, but I forgot. I wished he was here though. I had to take my dad's hand when he offered it; otherwise I'd probably have to sit in the police cruiser all day. It was better than having to be picked up. I could walk better now, but I wasn't exactly steady on my feet. It was like walking on that thing when I was in gymnastics class. "That thing" was so vague, even though my mental image of it was sharp. I couldn't think of the word. "What'sth the thingggggg that gymnasts warlk on?" I asked when we got to the curb. I hated that I still messed up words. "A mat?" "No," I said, shaking of my head. It was frustrating trying to lead someone to a word I should've known. "The lorng, thin thingggg. It'sth high urp." "Balance beam?"

I let out a relieved sigh. "Yesth. Barlance beam." I grit my teeth. "Baaaaaaalance beam." "That's good." I smiled. Little things like correcting pronunciation had become huge deals, worthy of everyone's pride and praise. They were big accomplishments to me too. "You thinking about the Olympics in 2012?" I shook my head and looked back at the house. No, I could barely make it three feet without needing to hold onto something, so doing back-flips was out. He was just trying to lighten the mood. Even though I knew it was of my doing, I felt depressed that I still could barely feel my right leg. Plus, there were certain toes, on both feet, I could no longer feel. No one would tell me if I'd ever regain feeling in them, but being diagnosed as a diabetic young, I'd always known the disease posed a threat to my extremities. Charlie was just trying to help. With the remembered word in mind, I could go on with my thoughts. Walking now was like walking on the balance beam when I was younger. If my feet weren't in just the right place, I'd be flat on my face in no time. I was tired of falling down. My dad threaded my arm through his and placed my hand on his forearm. My shoulder was touching his elbow. This was how I was going to make it to the steps of the house. This was how I was going to make it up the steps to the porch, and how I would get inside the house to sit down on the couch. With my father's help, something I'd never asked for in my whole life. The steps looked daunting. I was thankful to have his arm for support. I looked to my left and saw nothing but wet leaves on the ground. The same to the right. "Where'sth Edward?" "In school, remember?" I sighed. Right. Edward goes to school five days a week. School. Edward was in school. I tried to retain this information, but my short-term memory was so very lacking. It seemed to take forever to get to the front door. Charlie was incredibly patient. When we got there, I felt nervous. What if there were people inside? What if he'd changed everything while I was in the hospital? What if Renee was in there? What if? "What is it, Bunny?" "What'sth in there?" Again, he smiled that patient smile and shook his head. "Nothing but our things." He patted my hand in reassurance. As soon as we stepped over the threshold, he let me go first and I had to balance myself for about

thirty seconds while he finagled his way around me. The left side of my face smiled. I felt like I was home. His extra boots on the tiled floor and the way he carelessly threw his keys onto the little table felt good. Home. I liked it. I knew that I wouldn't be here for long. I had maybe one or two days, I couldn't remember. I would have to go somewhere else. I thought it was another hospital. Again, someone had told me exactly where I was going, but ever since I woke up my brain just wasn't the same. It was frustrating. People would tell me something and I'd repeat it in my mind, sometimes out loud, but a few minutes later I couldn't remember it. I knew we'd had a conversation, but I couldn't say what it was about. I thought that they were sending me to a hospital for more physical therapy or something. "Where am I goingggggg?" "Is the living room okay?" I sighed and shook my head. "I thought you might want to rest before tackling the steps up to your room." He threaded my arm through his again. "No. Where am I goingggggg? A hospiter?" Damnit. I could say things perfectly in my mind, but my mouth wouldn't say them right. I wondered if this was how Edward felt. "Isth Edward going to come over?" "He'll be here in a few hours and yes, you're going to another hospital." "Stho I can werk better?" I asked as he led me to the couch. "Partially." He set me down in his recliner and looked down at me. "There are other things too." "What thingggggggsth?" As patient as he'd been, he seemed slightly put-out that he had to go over this, presumably, again. "What you went through as a child needs to be dealt with completely and they found heroin in your system." I looked down at my lap at the way he said the word. I didn't like it. It made me feel bad. "That'sth becausth I did heroin. I'm soooorry" I had a choice to call him by his name, or call him dad. He was very tense and I wanted him to know that I understood all of it. While it scared the crap out of me, I knew why I had to go. "Dad." He squatted down in front of me and for a brief second, I tensed, but he wouldn't hurt me. "Why did you do that?" I looked away because the emotion behind his eyes was raw and made me feel incredibly

uncomfortable. "I don't know." "You don't know why you" "I didn't want to be here anymore." I was thankful that it all came out right. "Do you still feel that way?" I wasn't sure how I felt about anything. It took so much energy just to be able to sit upright that I found it difficult to assess my feelings and emotions every second of the day. "I don't think stho." He sat back on his heels and I looked at him again. "Isth Edward coming over?" There was a knock on the door and my dad went to answer it. I tried to smile when I saw Edward, but I knew it was only with the left side of my face. Having practiced in a mirror, I knew that my right side just hung there. I loved him. I remembered all of the different ways I had hurt him. I'd hurt him badly, but he was still the first thing I saw when I woke from what I now knew was a coma. One minute I was looking at clouds and the next I was gasping for air and freaking out because he looked shocked and panicked, yet so oddly relieved. "Edward!" I practiced his name over and over with my speech pathologist. It was the one word I cared about the most, so it was the one word I wanted to pronounce correctly every time. "Hhhhhhi." He returned with the shy smile that had owned me since the first time I saw it. He sat down on the couch and I bit my lip. I wanted to sit next to him. Charlie had walked away after closing the front door and I didn't want to have to ask Edward to help me out of my dad's chair. He held a piece of paper in his hands, but didn't mention it. He started telling me about his school day. I loved his voice. He got an "A" on his analysis of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and said "Gulf of Tonkin" in front of his entire History class without stuttering. It was impressive. "That's grape." I frowned. I'd wanted to say 'great.' I hated how challenging it was to talk anymore. I worked and worked but sometimes things just came out wrong. I was doing better, but it required so much concentration. "I-it's o-okay." I looked up at him. "What isth?" Edward just smiled at me, which let me know that I should've known, but my stupid brain had already forgotten. "N-n-nothing. Is your fffffather c-c-cooking?" I nodded. No one thought I was ready for that yet.

"I hhhhhave to g-g-give you ssssomething." He pushed the folded paper toward me. "Ssssince you're lllleaving t-t-tomorrow there are th-things I www-www-wwwant you to kn-know. I'm sssorry I w-waited so long." I hated when he apologized, since I should've been the one begging to be forgiven. I took the paper with my left hand and smiled, hoping he'd realize that it was actually an "I love you." I remembered that I had practiced that phrase too, so I tried it out. The sounds were slow in coming. "Iloveyou, Edward." My voice sounded innocent, and for whatever reason I felt innocent as well. He smiled back at me, but he looked nervous. I turned my eyes to the paper. He had written me a letter. Dear Bella, It started so formally that I wondered if I wanted to read it. I love you. I smiled. That was a great way to start it. I loved him too. You are leaving for at least a month tomorrow and there are things I want you to know. Some are about me and my past, and some are about us. Writing is easier for me than talking, but I thought it would be better for you too, since you would have something concrete. The point of this isn't to rehash what is past, but to give you a better understanding of who I am. That day, after you left my bedroom, I tried writing to you. I wrote so many e-mails, only to have the one I finally sent returned to me. I wish you wouldn't have blocked me. I wish you had been the type of person to get all of the facts before you made a decision. I never thought you were dirty. There were things about you I didn't quite understand, but that was no different than you not knowing me completely. I hate that you've done certain things in your life, but I don't hate you. That day when you tried to do what you did, my mind took me someplace else. I panicked for a reason and I'm sure you figured it out already, but Dr. Eleazar says that I can't hold anyone accountable when I haven't fully disclosed the situation or my personal history. I had a brother named Joseph. He was five years older than I am, and for pretty much my entire existence he shielded and protected me as much as he could. I knew there were times when he resented that decision. His life would have been much, much easier if I hadn't been born, or if he'd let my father punish me without stepping in. Quite honestly, my mother could possibly still be living if I hadn't been born, but who knows? My father loved Joseph in a way that he never loved me. My mother loved me and Joseph loved me, and until my mom died, it was enough. Joseph was sick. There was no real way for me to tell what he had. I'm sure they did tests after they found him in the basement and made some kind of diagnosis, but I haven't been told. I think Carlisle knows, but I'm afraid to ask and part of me doesn't want to know.

Joseph was sick. He was older, but he was a kid too. After my mom died he got worse, and he would tell me that I could make him better. I think he believed it, and at the time, I did too. There were things he wanted me to do that I didn't want to, but I did them. There were things he did that were horrible, and I felt so ashamed of it all. At some point Joseph made the connection that doing those things made him feel better physically. I know now that it really didn't help him get "better" long term. He never got better and my father ended up killing him instead of me. It wasn't an active choice on his part; Joseph just got in his way. That same night was when my father held me down and did things I don't like to think about, and I'm not going to put on paper. It is enough to say that he hurt me and he was the cause of losing that part of my body and forming those particular scars. Dr. Eleazar says I need to say the actual words and be able to remember it all, but I don't want to. I imagine that someday I'll be able to, but there's only so much I can handle right now. I hope you can live with my vague words because right now I can give no more. One day, I hope to tell you what happened. My father kept Joseph's body in the basement. Every day I had to clean his body and prepare it for God. In my father's head, Joseph was like Christ. I know you're not religious, so I'll tell you that Christ reappeared for forty days after he was killed. My father thought he could preserve Joseph, but it didn't work. Joseph's body broke down, but it didn't matter to my father; I had to keep anointing him, no matter what his body looked like. After nineteen days, the police came. My father hurt me. My brother hurt me. My mother hurt me by killing herself and leaving me alone with them. I love my mother and my brother, despite what they did. That's hard to handle. I like having sex with you Even though I hadn't been a virgin in many, many years, I blushed. Edward and I hadn't even kissed since before I ran away. but having sex isn't something that is easy or carefree. Dr. Eleazar seems to think that while I might be able to handle it physically, the emotional aspects of it might be too much. I think he's right. I don't think I should have sex right now and I don't think you should either, but I can only control what I do. As hard as it was to believe, I hadn't thought about sex in a really long time. I glanced up at Edward, but he was looking away, picking nervously at the seam of the couch. I love you, Bella and I never want to be without you, but I can't be with you if we go back to what we were. I hated being without you. After you left, I was a zombie for a long time. I felt like I had lost my entire reason for being. I didn't need a therapist to tell me that it wasn't healthy.

While I want you in my world, you can't be my whole world. I want you to be healthy and I want to be healthy for you. I forgive you for hitting me that day and I hope that you can forgive me for slamming you into the wall. It makes me sick to think about it. I wanted to control you. I wanted to control you completely. I didn't care about your will and what you wanted, I just tried to force what I wanted on you. It made me feel something I never wanted to feel. I didn't like it. I'm glad you're going to get help. It was one of the best decisions I've made in my life. The hospital you're going to was very helpful to me and I think they'll be the same for you. They'll be able to take care of your emotional and physical needs. I felt confused. I thought I was going to go somewhere to help me walk and talk better. Port Angeles isn't far away. I'll come visit you when it's allowed and I'll be here when you come home. As much as I want you to be my girlfriend, and as much as I desperately want to be your boyfriend, I think we can only be friends right now. I knew this was all my fault. I had hurt him. I ran away from him. I left him alone. It still hurt. I wanted to be his girlfriend. I wanted to be loved by him. I wanted him to touch the scar on my neck. I wanted to look into his eyes as we lay together in his bed. But he was just my friend now. We were just friends. I love you, Bella. Please understand that I would love to be your boyfriend and I hope sometime soon I'll be able to, but I can't right now. It's a decision based on what's going on with me, not a reflection on you. I love you. Edward From the corner of my eye, I saw him holding his hand out to me. I turned away because I felt overwhelmed and the sight of him didn't help. "B-Bella?" He took my fisted left hand and straightened the fingers. I didn't look at what he pressed into my hand, but my fingers tightened once more, this time around the hard object. "I llllllove you, Bella." That was what he said, but he was essentially distancing himself. He wasn't my boyfriend. My brain wasn't so messed up that it didn't realize that this was what I'd done to him. He was just being more mature and nicer about it.

I hurt. I wanted to be away so I could cry like the stupid, hypocritical, stroke-addled baby I was. I wanted to gain the physical distance his letter implied emotionally. With great effort, I hoisted myself out of the chair. "Bella, I'll hhhhhelp you." I shook my head even as my body wobbled and my right leg threatened to give out. I could let him help me, but he'd just be gone tomorrow. I bit my lip in frustration because I couldn't remember where the hell I was going. Dr. Kebi and Dr. Cullen explained how I had to be careful about right-sided neglect, because I couldn't sense my right side and I could wind up bumping into objects. This time, the object I neglected was the TV tray Charlie had set by me. My water crashed to the carpet. The plastic cup gave a small bounce, but I did not. I stumbled and fell hard to the floor. Edward was by me immediately, as one hand swept back my hair; his thumb stroked my scar as the other hand rested on my bent knee. I pinched my eyes shut because the tears kept coming. I hated my body. I had forgotten what a fully-functioning body felt like. I couldn't even get up out of a chair like a regular person! I couldn't even exit an uncomfortable room without looking like a dependent toddler, tear-streaked cheeks and all. "Don't b-be mad, Bella. I lllllove you," he whispered and although I wanted to see his expression, my eyes remained shut. "Dinner's" Charlie's voice broke the silence. I looked up at him. He focused on me, then Edward, then the spilled water, and then me again. "Everything okay?" Did he have the slightest clue how difficult that question was to answer? I blinked and tried to remember what the hell had happened. All I knew was that I felt sad about something that just happened between Edward and me. Whatever it was, I was certain he was justified, even if I couldn't remember anything. I felt the object in my hand and finally I looked at it. It was Edward's green rock. It sparked my memory. He only wanted me as a friend and I had driven him to that point. I wasn't able to answer my dad's question. Was everything okay? I didn't know anymore. All I could do was sit there looking up at him and blink back my tears. Charlie was holding one of my hands and Dr. Hale was holding open the heavy glass door. I roughly scratched my head and my dad tugged me gently. "Come on, Bunny, it'll be fine." I was nervously shifting my weight from one foot to the other. If it wasn't for my father's support, I would have lost my balance for sure. "But I won't know anybody." I looked around. My fingers tightened on my dad's. "Why didn't Edward carme with usth?" I tried to ignore that my words were nearly unintelligible.

"Remember," Dr. Hale said, "he's in school today?" Right. Edward went to school. I committed it to memoryat least I hoped I did. Not that it was unique, but tears slipped from my eyes. They'd told me just moments ago that I was here for rehabilitation, not just for my body but for my mind and emotions as well. I wasn't really scared of that. I wasn't trying to get out of it. I was justI just felt like I was just worried about it. What was on the other side of that door? How would it affect me? I'd never been here before. The intense worry confused me. I didn't think I was like this before. Was I? "I can visit every family day," my dad said. "And I work in that building across the street," Esme said. I looked to where she was pointing. "I can visit every day if you need. No one's abandoning you here." "But what ifwhat if I get hurt?" "No one will hurt you," she replied. "But what if" "Bella, you have to do this. You know you do." I looked at Charlie. His mouth was set in a determined line and his eyes were as intense as I'd ever seen them. "You're my daughter. You're strong enough to do this and when it's done, when you're well enough, you're going to come home and we can both be proud of your accomplishments. I love you, Bunny. You can do this." I swallowed hard and looked back at the door. I stopped pulling back and leaned forward. My dad told me he loved me all the time now and I wanted to believe that I could do this. Thankfully the impulses my brain sent to my right foot were acknowledged and I didn't fall on my face. I could feel the forced air from the building and it stopped me. "What if Edward doesthn't talk to me annnmore? What if he doesthn't" I choked back a sob. Dr. Hale touched my arm. "Edward loves you." I took a step forward, knowing that the only thing I could do was trust in these people. Two more steps and I was inside the building. I wanted to make them all proud. "Bella, this is Dr. Renata. She's going to take over where you and I left off." I looked at Dr. Hale in confusion. I thought she was Did she mean that she didn't want to be my therapist anymore? "But you sthaidI thought you" "I'm not abandoning you, just like I've told you before. Dr. Renata has a speciality" I shook my head. "But I don't know harrrrr." Not 'harrrr,' her. I don't know her! "I know, but she's going to help you. While we made progress, I think it's time to let someone else get to know you."

It sounded like she was dumping me. "You don't warnt to help me annmore?" "Of course I want to help you, but I'd like to do it as your friend." She reached out and ran a hand over my hair, smoothing it. I'd seen mothers do that for their daughters at the park when I was little. It felt nice. After Dr. Hale left, I was alone with Dr. Renata. She had soft features and looked more like a young woman than someone who could be called a doctor. She smiled at me. "You're very lucky to have survived all that you have." I felt as though I should have been angry, but all I could muster was a shrug. "I don't fearrrl lucky." "What do you feel?" I answered as honestly as I could. "I don't know." The next session we talked about coping mechanisms. I told her about looking for spiders and imperfections in the paint or walls. The session after that she asked me to tell her what had happened to me as a child. "But you already know." "I know what I've read in a file, but you've told me nothing about your experience except how you were able take your mind away from it. I'd like to hear what happened in your own words, Bella." People said my name a lot here, like they were trying to get me to accept that I was Bella. Dr. Renata would say a lot during our sessions, like she was trying to link how I felt to who I was. I was Bella and Bella looked for spiders when Bella was being raped. I looked for spiders when I was being raped. That would be hard to say, so I thought of something else to talk about that would satisfy us both. "My mom was mean to me." "How was she mean?" It was the details that exhausted me. I had hundreds of stories and memories to share. I didn't want to speak them aloud; I didn't want to even think about them. Thinking about hot peppers on my tongue, fists to my face, hands twisting in my hair, immovable walls, and glass coffee tables made me feel sick. "The rocks dug into my back and then whenwhen theywhen they flipped me over the rocks cut my face and chest." I tried hard not to look at Bree as she spoke. She was my roommate and what she was saying was horrible and vile and made me feel angry and sick. "There was a puddle next to me and I kept thinking that if they shifted me just right, my face would be in it. My mother used to tell me that a person could drown in even an inch of water. I just wanted to

drown." "That's why you jumped from the cliffs, isn't it? You fixated on that desire to drown," the therapist said. Although she shook her head, she acknowledged the truth. "If it would've worked, it would've been likelike, I don't know, making it like I died that night. It would have beenbetter." This group was not my favorite. My weeks were packed, filled with support groups and individual sessions with physical rehabilitation thrown in too. This group was only for female victims of rape or incest. I hated sitting here and listening to all of it. Maybe it was about regaining power, but the words of others did nothing but pull me back to Phoenix. Actually, my favorite group was for addiction. While I didn't like all that "Higher Power" business, I did like the feeling that I wasn't alone. I had been in a coma for my body's physical withdrawal from the drugs, but sometimes my mind felt like it was still attached. There were times when I still wanted to use. Just two nights ago I woke up in a cold sweat. I could taste coke as it went burning up my nose. I could almost feel it. I was drooling. Literally drooling. I couldn't go back to sleep after that. I also had to go to a group for disabled people. I didn't like that one. I was going to walk and talk like a normal person again. I wasn't disabled. That one met every Thursday. At my third meeting, the guy who'd been sitting progressively closer and closer to me tried to force a conversation. I didn't really want to talk. He was missing the lower part of his left arm and was under out-patient care. He was nice-looking and asked if I wanted to go somewhere quiet with him because he knew a place. All I could do was panic. I did not want to go anywhere with him. I did not even want to think about it. I knew "somewhere quiet" was his way of asking if I wanted to get away and have sex. I feltI couldn't find the right word, but the closest thing I could come up with was "frightened." The thought of having sex with him, someone I didn't know, frightened me. I realized how much of a change this was from how I was before. I didn't really understand it, but it was the way I felt now. While I wasn't thrilled about being here, it kept my mind off of Edward. Except when I talked to Dr. Renata about him. Or when Bree asked about him. Or when I told the other addicts how I'd hurt him. Or when I felt the green rock in my pocket. Or when I used him as motivation to keep pushing my body to get better. When I was focusing on correcting my gait, I imagined running on the beach with him. When I was working on the dexterity of my right hand, I imagined running my fingers through his hair and tickling his scalp. Bree liked music. We listened to a lot of it when we had free time and tonight it was some lady with a haunting, yet young and fun voice. I fell in love with one of the songs, but every time it ended, I couldn't remember the lyrics to the best part.

"What's it called again? I can't remember." "Jesus," she said, "that's the third time you've asked me. She sings it a dozen times." I chewed on my bottom lip. "Sorry." At least most of my speech issues were clearing themselves up. "I'll write it down." Dr. Renata tapped the top of her fountain pen against the yellow pad. It was always like this. We would sit quietly for a few minutes while I looked around the room and then she would tap her pen and we'd begin. I didn't know if the routine was on purpose or if she was unaware. I supposed it didn't matter because either way, it gave me time to remember some of the things we spoke about in the previous session. It was difficult to remember. It wasn't from the stroke. The things we spoke about in this room weren't short-term memories. They were things I'd stopped thinking about for a while. Things that were too painful to think about for long. She said the goal was for me to embrace the memory until it wasn't painful anymore, but I didn't think my mind would work like that. There were times when we'd talk about stuff and the only thing I could think about afterward was getting high or getting laid. I didn't like that my mind made that connection between something painful to intoxication and sex, but I didn't seem to be able to stop it. "Last time you mentioned your mother's boyfriend making you a 'whore.' What exactly does that mean?" I shrugged. I didn't want to talk about this. "Bella," she said gently, urging me to speak just by using my name. "Hewell, I'm pretty sure he let those" Between my speech issues and my brain that didn't want to function, I didn't think I'd be able to get through any of this. I could control my speech, but it took concentration. "I think they" I looked down at my lap. That was the limit of what I was going to be able to say about that right now. It seemed fairly obvious now that he didn't let those men do what they did to me because he was drunk or high, although he probably was. The more I thought about it, the more I remembered. There were things I hadn't remembered before. The guy who had to wait, he said He'd grown impatient and he said he wanted to get what he.what he paid for. Then he said I wouldn't be worth it because I wasn't I hated this. I understood now that drugs weren't the way to block this stuff out, but I wasn't happy that everyone said my recovery meant that I would have to confront these things. I didn't want to think about them. It was horrible to think about how that man said I was worthless because I didn't do more to participate. I didn't move my hands enough; they had to do it for me. I pinched my eyes shut and bit my lip. "How old were you?"

I swallowed hard. I couldn't remember exactly. I was older. My breasts were bigger than that first night in my room. I might have been thirteen, maybe fourteen. I didn't feel like I could answer her. I didn't want to, so I stayed still. My body was still tense as the memories of that night flooded back to me. I could feel those men. "We don't have to talk about that night, Bella." I nodded and when I was finally able to open my eyes again, I found Dr. Renata studying me. I shifted as much as I could and wished she would look somewhere else. "Why won't you ever use his name? You've never said it. Are you protecting him?" That made me angry. It was ridiculous. I hated that man. I wanted to kill him for everything he'd done, but I couldn't let my anger mess up what I was trying to say. I concentrated very hard to make sure what I said was what I meant. "Why would I protect him? He makes me sick." "You'd be surprised how common it is." I looked out of the window behind her. Dr. Hale was in the building across the street. She visited me almost every day. Some days she would stay longer than others. We talked about a lot of things. She would tell me about Edward and Alice and how the others were doing in California. Sometimes I would cry because she visited in the evening and my day was so full of sessions, groups, and physical therapy that by the time she came to see me, I was exhausted. The times that I cried, she let me lean against her shoulder. Sometimes she held my hand, and other times she would gather my hair, smoothing it back from my face. She would ask me to face, but remind me how safe I was in this environment. She reminded me there were people who'd been through hell and came here to get a handle on it all. This was a place of healing, not judgment, so she urged me to let go of the judgment I placed on myself. I forced myself back into the session with Dr. Renata who sat looking expectantly at me. "I don't like thinking about all of that stuff. I hate everything about him, including his name so I don't want to say it." "That's fair enough, but do you think you'll ever be able to process what happened if you keep big things like that locked up?" This was frustrating. I didn't want to talk about this. I didn't want to be pressured into saying his name or thinking about his tattoo or his hushed voice. "My dad'll try togo after him. He'll try to" When I didn't finish, she asked another question. "And that's frightening, isn't it? You would have to relive everything again, even if you never set foot in a courtroom, you would have to be his victim again, be at his mercy." I was always at the mercy of others. I didn't want to have to think about him all the time. I didn't want my dad to know everything that happened. Even if I didn't say it, my dad would know that I let him do those things; that he made me do those things. I brought my hand to my mouth and nibbled on my nails. I didn't know where I picked up the habit, but for whatever reason, it helped me process my nervousness. "Sometimes he made me feel" "What, Bella? What did he make you feel?"

"He made me feel good." My face was hot and my eyes burned. "Sometimes he wouldn't have to ask me to do something. I would just do it because I knew it would make him happy. He didn't alwayshe didn't always force me." I was crying now and while I wanted to stop speaking, something in my head told me now was the time to actually say something. Dr. Hale said this place was safe and I knew no one could tell anyone else what I said. I could say it and put it out there and no one would judge me. My hands fisted, fingers curling around my thumbs. Knowing I would have to say my thoughts out loud made me sick. "Sometimes I would hear him having sex with my mom and I would hate her." I wanted to hug my knees to my chest, but it would've taken a lot of effort to pull my legs up like that. "I felt like he was choosing her over me, but then when he'd come into my room, I wouldn't want him there. Sometimes I wanted to be sick from the smell of him, but he would make my body And other times I wanted him to tell me how good I was, so I would do everything perfect before he asked me to." "You were a child." The doctor's voice was gentle and soft. "What he did to you wasn't just a physical violation. He twisted your mind. Of course there were times when you did things before he asked. You've said before that it was painful. If you did what you knew he wanted, you avoided the pain, right?" I nodded. "That doesn't mean that you wanted it and just because your body responded, didn't mean that you liked it. You were a child, Bella. Children's minds aren't developed enough to be able to handle those things. Most children want to please authority figures. If you were jealous of your mother at times, it was because you were confused. The few times he treated you nicely made you feel loved because you'd experienced very few moments of actual love in your life." I ran my hands down my face and then pulled my hair back. "I don't want my dad to know," I whispered. "What don't you want him to know?" "Any of it. I want to just be his little girl again and not his messed up daughter who let herself" "Do you honestly believe that you 'let yourself' be raped?" I nodded. "Not that this is an indicator of culpability, but you never struggled?" "I did," I answered. "And what happened when you did?" "I got hurt." "Even more than usual, right?" Again, I nodded. "Just because you avoided some pain by not physically struggling, doesn't mean you asked for or let

these things happen. Rape, molestation, sexual assault; these aren't just physical, they're mental. He didn't just physically take away something from you. He didn't just hurt your body. He hurt you. Your whole self. He forced you to choose between feeling physical pain or mental and emotional pain. Even if at times you went to him to seek out sexual intimacy, the responsibility lies with him. He is at fault. He is to blame. You did what you had to do and you were a child." I took in a deep breath. What she said was relieving my guilt, but it still felt wrong. "There are lots of things that you've done that you have to accept responsibility for, like doing drugs, stealing, lying, and having sex with people who didn't force you. The root causes of your actions might not be your fault, but what you've done in response is your responsibility. You have quite a lot to deal with already, so please don't take the blame for things that were outside of your control." I focused very hard on what I was going to say. I understood what she was saying and most of me felt good that she was telling me not to accept responsibility for doing what I had to do in order to survive, but I still felt uneasy about even sharing some of these things. I still felt like having all of it dragged out into the open would be more painful than having had to endure it the first time. "I don't want my dad to know." I paused, still feeling sick. "I don't want Edward to know." "I know you think otherwise, but they won't love you any less." After a long pause, Dr. Renata changed the subject. "Let's talk about addiction." "Okay." "Do you remember the point in your life when drugs became the norm? When they became not just something you did, but something essential?" I didn't want to answer that. I didn't really want to talk about addiction or how it had shaped my life. I didn't want to do any of this, but I knew I had to. It wasn't for my dad or for Edward. I had to do this because otherwise I'd be dead. If how I lived was all there ever was, I didn't want any part of it. "After the first time he made me smoke it, I could have some whenever heyou know, whenever he" "Say it, Bella." I took a deep breath. "When hefuuuwhen he had sex with me." "Say the word, please." I liked Dr. Renata's voice. She was so calm and relaxed, and yet her words had this forceful way about them. I played dumb, knowing it wouldn't buy me much time. "What word is that?" "He didn't have sex with you. He didn't make love to you. He didn't fuck you, Bella. What did he do to you?" I let out a haggard breath. "Raped me?" "Good. So after the first time he forced you to smoke pot, every time he raped you, you were allowed to get high. What was the purpose?" "To help me. To make me relax and make it hurt less." "How very kind of him," she said, not hiding her disgust. "But you started smoking other times too, though, correct?"

"Yes. I liked being high. I could use it to not care. Renee could hurt me and I didn't care." "It made you feel good, right?" Being high was great. Not only did I feel good, I felt safe. "Yes." "You used other things too, like sex. Sex can be just as addictive as narcotics." I knew what she was getting at. We'd gone over this in my addiction group. I was an addict through-and-through. Anything that made me forget the things I didn't want to think about was one of the many weapons in my arsenal of drugs. I used sex the way I used pot. I slept with whoever wanted to have sex with me because I mistook it for having power and I liked how numb I felt. I nodded, knowing that she was looking for it. "It scares me now." The next day, which was also when friends could come to visit, I was anxious because Edward would be here, just like every other time. We'd had an enjoyable time just sitting next to each other, but it was awkward and strange. It felt like we should have been touching more. I wanted to tell him about this song. I knew he wasn't my boyfriend anymore. I'd been able to retain that important piece of information thanks to being able to re-read his letter, but this song gave me hope. "Where's that paper?" Bree set down her book and rolled her eyes. "What paper?" "With that song on it?" "Bella," she said, "how am I supposed to know what you did with it?" I had to practice writing anyway. My penmanship was pretty bad, and if the goal was to go back to school, then I would have to write well enough for other people to read it. I grabbed a piece of paper and held the pen in my right hand. It still felt so weird. She sighed. "On the Radio." I started writing. It took a while but I felt fairly proud to see the three words printed. "Will you play it? I want to be able to remember the lyrics." Once she did, I undertook the laborious process of writing down the lyrics. "Is this it?" I asked, holding up the paper so she could read the four lines. This is how it works Youre young until youre not You love until you don't You try until you can't. "Yeah, that's good. You have to add apostrophes between the u and the r in 'you're'. It looks like my kid brother wrote it, but those are the lyrics." I knew she was teasing and I didn't take offense. I hadn't practiced much. I rewound and transcribed a few more lines.

You laugh until you cry You cry until you laugh And everyone must breathe Until their dying breath. I got hung-up on the word "everyone," so it took longer than it should have. No, this is how it works You peer inside yourself You take the things you like And try to love the things you took. "How do you spell 'someone?'" "S-o-m-e-o-n-e." "Is this right?" I held up the paper. "No. That's 'soneome,' which isn't a word." "Oh." She spelled it again and once more I rewound. And then you take that love you made And stick it into some Someone else's heart Pumping someone else's blood. And walking arm in arm You hope it don't get harmed But even if it does You'll just do it all again. "Fucking finally!" Bree exclaimed I had to listen to it fifteen times to get it right. My printed words were shaky and looked horrible, but I was proud. I would give this to Edward when he got here. "It's visitor's day, right?" "Hhhhhi." I nodded and smiled nervously as I carefully made my way to the couch. He made me nervous just by being here. Edward was wearing his gray button-down shirt. He always looked nice when he came to see me. I put both of my hands on the arm of the couch and gently lowered myself down. I felt his hand on my elbow. It was the most he ever touched me during our visits. Once I was seated, I shifted and turned to him. "You're w-w-w-walking b-better." Again, I just nodded because what was I supposed to say to that? I hated that he paid attention to how I walked and I hated that I had to get "better" at walking.

I was sure there was a time in my life I'd been very shy, but how I felt now was strange, foreign even. I felt incredibly insecure, even around him. I remembered that he wasn't my boyfriend anymore. I remembered that I had no right to believe that he would be, and I remembered Dr. Renata thought I shouldn't have a boyfriend right now. Edward was my friend. I didn't know why he kept choosing me, but he did. Knowing that didn't make me any less self-conscious. I had a hard time looking directly at him. I always spent a good deal of our visit glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. He looked so nice. My mind flashed with memories of what his body looked like under his clothes. He had nice a collarbone. My face felt hot as I thought about using his collarbones like handle bars as I sat on top of him. More and more overtly sexual thoughts of him had been creeping into my mind. They were nice and uncomfortable all at the same time. I felt strange because I shouldn't have been thinking that way, especially with all the work I'd been doing with Dr. Renata. We were talking a lot about sexual assault. I didn't quite understand why I would have fantasies about sex after having a session about being forced to do sexual things. I definitely wasn't comfortable with it. "W-w-what's that?" I blinked rapidly and focused my thoughts. "What's what?" He chuckled. Edward had never chuckled much, and I was so curious that I had to look at him. "That." I looked to where he pointed and saw the little piece of forgotten paper in my hands. "Oh." I turned it over and read it to myself. I wanted to show it to him. Hopefully my memory would get better soon. I hated feeling like a moron. "It's a" I sighed. I couldn't think of the word. "It's ayou know a" My teeth gritted as I felt tears well. I felt so stupid. "You know a thing you play on the piano orthe guitaryou can sing it." "A song." I nodded and looked at him. So stupid! I said the word not a half-hour ago and I still forgot it. "Yeah. It's a song I heard." I held the paper to him and averted my eyes to look at Bree. She was sitting uncomfortably next to a skinny kid. I knew she had a boyfriend and I thought she'd called him Diego, but I wasn't a hundred-percent about that. Although they looked uncomfortable, he was playing with her fingers. I wanted to remember what that felt like too. "Is th-this 'yourself?'" My attention was drawn back and I looked at the scribbled word and nodded. Bree was right. It looked like a child had written it. I turned back to Bree and Diego. He was stroking the sensitive underside of her wrist. I bet it sent shivers through her body. "I lllllliiiiiike it." I nodded. He was trying to hand the paper back to me, but I wouldn't take it. "It's" I sighed because I

couldn't think of the word. "W-what?" "Youwhen things feel like they'll be okay." "Hopeful." That was exactly the word I wanted. "Yeah, hopefur." I tried again. "Hopeful." "I'll d-d-download it w-when I g-get home." I sighed. After a few moments of silence, Edward asked, "D-do you n-not want me to vvvvvisit anymore?" My head whipped around as panic seized my heart. "What?" "Y-you're nnnot talking to mmmme." Tears stung my eyes again. "I want you to visit," I whispered. "Then w-what's w-wrong?" I felt unable to articulate, so I asked, "Do you want to take a walk?" "O-okay." It took me a full minute to get off of the couch, but I did it on my own. I was aware that Edward was hovering around. It was as if he was scared to offer help or touch me. We slowly made our way outside. It was a nice day, even for late September. It was almost October and I had known Edward for a year. I tried to think of things to talk about, but everything I wanted to talk about was too deep for a visit like this. "How are Emmett and Rosalie doing?" "G-good. They'll b-be b-back for Thanksgiving." "Oh." Silence again as I took a few unsteady steps toward a stone bench. My body was tired. "What about Jasper?" "Hhhhe's o-okay, I g-guess. Aliiiiice says he's o-okay." "How's school?" "I w-w-wish you were there." That depleted things I could ask about. We reached the bench and I sat down. Edward seemed nervous as he shifted before claiming the spot next to me. "Bella?"

I looked at him and waited. "W-when you were aw-way, d-did you think ab-bout me?" I didn't need to think very hard to remember. "Yes." "W-w-w-why hhhhhheroin?" I sighed. "Someone put the needle in before I could say no." According to Dr. Renata, that was a cop-out, so in the interest of honesty and full-disclosure, I added, "I wanted to die." His eyes widened and I swear he stopped breathing for a second. "D-d-d-d-d-do you ssssssstill?" I shrugged. I supposed not, but I lived inside a neat and tidy treatment facility. Things were all taken care of here. If I had an emotional outburst, everyone would understand and I wouldn't have to climb a mountain to make it up to all of them. Everyone watched me. I couldn't load up on drugs and I couldn't talk myself into fucking armless guys. I didn't even want to try. Everything was sanitized here, including me. I was thankful for the breeze that distracted me as I said what I knew I had to. With a lot of words and phrases, I'd practiced this one until it was clear and unhindered. "I used heroin because I'm an addict." We were quiet for a while and then I pushed myself to say what I needed to say. "He used to call me his dirty girl." I scanned the brick building, not looking at the landscape, and not really seeing anything other than brown hair and a skull tattoo before it shifted to a broken Edward that horrible day when I heard him say the word "dirty." "I-I-I-I didn't c-c-call you d-d-d-d-" "You could've said that the bookshelf was dirty. It wouldn't have mattered. My brain was ready to interpret it wrong no matter what." I shook my head and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I hit you. I'm sorry I made fun of your stutter. I didn't" He was quick to interrupt and I recognized his anxiety immediately. "I kn-know. You don't hhhhave to" "Yes, I do," I said, cutting off his acceptance that of my unacceptable behavior. "It was mean. I'm sorry." He turned away, but I saw him nod. "When you said that word, I couldn't think of anything other than being that girl. Dr. Renata says people with PTSD can't always control their reactions. She said thatwell, it doesn't matter. I'm responsible for doing those things. I was wrong to do that to you; I was wrong to treat you like that." "I-I-I fffforgive you, Bella. I-I'm sssorry for ssssslamming you b-b-back into the w-wall, a-a-a-and c-c-c-covering your mmmm-mmmmouth." I cringed. "I don't want to hurt you again." I felt pressure on the index finger of my right hand. It was an odd sensation, but then again, everything to do with the right side of my body was odd. I looked down.

His hand was curled around my finger and I looked back up at him just in time to see it rise slowly. He stroked my scar with his thumb and I closed my eyes. "Then d-don't. And I won't hhhurt you either." I heard the lyrics in my mind. I remembered them on my own. You'll love until you don't, You'll try until you can't And then you take that love you made, And stick it into some, Someone else's heart And walking arm in arm, You hope it don't get harmed, But even if it does, You'll just do it all again I opened my eyes to be immersed in an ocean of murky green seaweed and I smiled. I would live the rest of my life trying to get better. Not for him, but for me. I didn't want to hurt him and I couldn't bear it if I did again."

Chapter 68: Sweetest Downfall Edward Bella came home from the hospital the day before the homecoming dance. I was so excited to have her within the town limits again. I could see her anytime I wanted. Well, within reason. Dr. Eleazar and I were working on knowing what "enough" meant. Not just with Bella, but with the video of my mother, with coffee, with anger, with panic. I didn't get to see her that first night, but the day of the dance, I went to her house. She was still settling back in. Posted next to her bedroom door was a schedule, but instead of the work schedule that had once been there, this was a list of things she had to remember to do each day. In nice bold printed letters there were thing like: Brush teeth, Take blood sugar, Check insulin pump this was the first I'd realized that she even had an insulin pump Eat, Medicine, Brush Teeth, Shower, Leg Exercises, Arm Exercises, Read, Half-hour Walk, Clean this had a question mark by it Study this had a different subject each day of the week, but it wasn't specific. Instead of Calculus, it just said "Math." I wondered what exactly that meant. The list was finished out with: Eat, Meeting/Group/Therapy, Brush Teeth, Wash Face, Medicine, Bed. She must've noticed me looking because she said, "Sometimes I forget to do things." Bella had regained control of nearly all of her facial muscles, which helped her enunciate. I pointed to the blank lines and turned to her, "Sssso you c-can add ssstuff?" She nodded and then sat down very carefully on her bed. "How was school today?" I hated correcting her because she tried so hard. She'd finally remembered that I went to school, but she wasn't good with the details. "It's Saturday." She looked at me blankly for a second and then looked confused. "Oh." She nibbled her lip. "No school on Saturday?" "R-r-right." I sat down in the rocking chair. Things continued to be relatively awkward between us. We

had gone through so much, but beyond the reference to being "friends," we lacked definition of what we were now. "We can listen to music," she offered. I smiled and went to her dresser to flip on the radio. When I returned, we listened in silence to the song already in progress. When it changed, Bella frowned. It was a particular kind of frown, and I wanted to learn her facial expressions all over again. "W-what?" "I don't like this one." "W-why?" She shrugged. "It makes me sad." "Ssshould I ch-change the ch-channel?" She shook her head. "Put in aayou know, one of thoseround, flat things." She sighed but then pointed to her CDs. "You know..." "CDs," I supplied. "Yeah, CDs." I went back and flipped through them. "Will you put in the one I just got?" "W-which one?" "The one with the song I like." I tossed her a smile. I loved her. "W-which song?" She sighed. "Bree knew." I knew Bree had been her roommate. She must've relied on her for help. Bella was probably frustrated without her. "This one?" I held up the first CD. "No. It's got the song I showed you. You know, the hopeful one?" I sifted through them until I found it. Wasting no time, I immediately put it in. "Are you hhhhhappy t-t-to be back hhhhome?" I asked, back in the rocking chair. Bella pointed to the schedule by the door with her left hand. "I can't go to school."

"They ssssaid that?" She nodded and spoke slowly. "They showed me a book. I guess it was math from last year andit was just a bunch of numbers and letters. Some woman tried to teach it to me, butitI was very confused." "I'm sssssorry, Bella." She shrugged. "My dad's getting me a tutormaybe a babysitter too since I'll be home by myself a lot. "W-what are all those m-meetings?" It was written four or five times on her schedule. I had a pretty good idea what they were, but I was eager for something to talk about. "The one on Monday, Thursday, and Saturday, is NA. There's apparently a thriving chapter here." Forks didn't have much in the way of mental health care, so I wondered if she was going to the same place I was. "Your other g-g-groups are they" "In Port Angeles." "Mmmmine t-t-too." "The same nights?" I shook my head and then she said, "Whywhy is everything so weird now? I know you can't be my boyfriend, but" I didn't want things to be weird. I recalled the awkwardness between us last fall when she first moved here. I smiled, thinking of the memories even though some of them had been embarrassing and devastating at the time. Our first non-date. The subsequent kiss. Our first dance. The first time I touched her scar. That dance had lasted less than a minute. She'd felt so wonderful in my arms, like she'd been made to inhabit that space. We couldn't be significant others, but she was no less significant to me now than she was then. I wanted to feel her in my arms. I knew this album well. I downloaded it the same night she'd handed me that paper. The next song was painfully beautiful. It wasn't Otis Redding, but it was an adequate substitution. "Bella?" She looked back at me. "W-w-will you d-dance with me?" Her smile was shy but beautiful, and I took it as a yes. I stood, feeling as nervous as the first time. Taking her hand, I gently pulled her up and brought her close to me. I felt her breath against my neck. The heat of her body pressed to mine felt natural. I breathed her in as we started to sway. Bella stepped over the threshold carefully, her hand tightening on my arm. She looked around at the

empty foyer, swallowed hard, and then took a tentative step forward, just enough for me to get the door closed. "Hi, Bella!" She flinched and moved closer to me, her fingers really digging into my flesh as Alice's voice took her by surprise. I wanted to be mad at my sister, but I knew she was just excited for Bella's first visit. She'd been lonely since Jasper and the others left, but she still should've known better. Bella smiled but headed toward the stairs. She was careful and cautious about everything now. From what I'd read, it would be a lasting effect of the stroke. If she'd a right brain stroke, she would have been impulsive and careless. That was exactly how she'd been before, so if she had to have a stroke, as bad as it might have sounded, it was kind of a relief that it was this kind and not in the left hemisphere. An even more impulsive Bella would have been hard for everyone to handle. This cautious Bella was sometimes difficult as well. She didn't like leaving her house, which was why it took until early December to get her to come over. She was nervous the entire ride over and asked a lot of questions. She wanted to know who would be there and what we were going to do. She wanted to know if anything had changed and if I was going to be okay waiting for her to get up the stairs. The steps were intimidating for her. She'd come very far with her physical therapy, but stairs made her unbalanced and wobbly. She clung to the banister and threaded her other arm through mine. Each step was a milestone and she would have stop and catch her breath. Nothing much had changed about my room. I entered first and sat tentatively on my bed as she hovered around the door, peering in. "It's o-okay." I wanted her inside so I could close and lock my door. Although I was getting better, it still made me feel a little ill to leave it open for too long. Two small baby steps and she was inside, and then she just wrapped her arms around her midsection and stood there. "You c-c-can ssssit down," I said closing the door and taking my seat. "Oh. Okay." She looked at me on the bed and then over to the empty couch. "Where?" That she felt she had to ask made me sad, but I understood that just like everything else, this was something she had to relearn. "An-anywhere." "Can I look at your books?" "Of c-course." I watched as she picked out an art book and sat down with it. After flipping through it silently, she seemed pleased as she ran her hand over the woman in orange. "You like this one." She looked up and I smiled. "I d-do." She smiled back and then returned to looking at Flaming June. "Me too."

I still got sick at Christmas, but I told Carlisle as soon as my neck felt stiff. With encouragement from Dr. Eleazar, I took medicine without question and avoided the worst part of the illness. I watched the video of my mother more times than I should've, but fewer times than I had last year. Bella wasn't as accessible as she had been last year. She couldn't spend every waking moment with me. Even though I didn't care what either of our therapists or guardians said, I knew our relationship had been unhealthy, and it wouldn't be right to put that much stress on her when she was trying to heal. She had her own demons to fight, so while I cried for my mom with Alice, Bella went to a meeting for addiction. I slept through most of the holiday and the days leading up to it. I wrote letters to my mother and to Joseph, then shredded them and wrote them again. I tucked them into the drawer beside my bed. If I wasn't sleeping, I played music. It was the only thing besides Bella's fingers in my hair that helped. It was rare now that Bella and I were close like that. She wasn't my girlfriend, so I only got to touch that little four-pointed scar on her neck occasionally, and it wasn't everyday when I was blessed with her fingers through my hair. We did take a nap together Christmas day. It was difficult being a part of Bella's life, yet not be what we once were, and I could tell it was the same for her. I hoped that it helped more than hindered. Sometimes all I wanted was to be close to her. I woke up from the nap with my erection pressing into her backside. In my mind, I saw my hand moving between her legs, the other one to her breast. I wanted to taste her skin and feel her nipple as it hardened in my mouth. My hips bucked on instinct and the sensation was enough to make me grit my teeth and fist my hands. I got out of bed quickly and crossed the room, moving as far away as I could. Despite what we'd done together in the past, neither of us was in a place right now to do any of the things my mind and body seemed to want. It seemed with the new, cautious Bella as though sex was the furthest thing from her mind. Both of us were active participants in both individual and group therapy for victims of sexual abuse, and even though we were both eighteen, neither of us had any idea how to move forward sexually. It wasn't the right time. Not for her; not for me. One weekend in early February Bella and I drove to Olympia and spent most of the day in that little bookstore. It had taken quite a lot of begging for her father to let her go. We had an argument over what books she picked out that first trip. It was ridiculous; between the two of us, I wasn't the one with the brain injury. I also hadn't been high that day. She wasn't happy that I mentioned either of those points. Even before she called me out, I felt like a jerk for even thinking it, much less saying it, but the words were out before I could stop them. I felt horrible for making her feel horrible.

After sitting silently in the reading chairs, I apologized softly and so did she. The rest of the day went well. During Spring Break, Carlisle and I visited schools and I completed the final round of interviews. I only had two mild panic attacks in the hotel before interviewing with Harvard and Juilliard. Juilliard was the most nerve-wracking of the lot because I had to prove my musical worthin front of other people. I got through it and even felt proud of my performance. Carlisle seemed pleased too. While in the past I used thoughts of Bella to calm me, I used my mother this time. I could hear and see her in my mind, singing like she knew it wasn't a sin. I knew my music wasn't a sin. If she could stand up in front of people and sing, I could play in front of them. I was good, better than most, and that school would've been insane not to want me to study there. I tried to keep Bella out of my mind, because not only would she not go to college with me, she wouldn't be going to any college next year. Anywhere I went, I would go without her. Harvard was my first pick for obvious intellectual reasons, but Juilliard was what I really wanted. Despite it being located in New York City, I felt drawn to it. Both medicine and music were outlawed by my father. Both would be an acceptable choice in Carlisle's eyes. If I had to be one-hundred-percent honest, music soothed me, and I could think of nothing better to do with my future than to spend it creating the music that filled my head, the music that was in my soul. I'd just gotten to Bella's after dropping Alice off at home. The day had been long and ended with a stressful session with Ms. Rice. She switched the routine on me and suddenly we were having a conversation instead of just reading. I felt pressured, because one of my goals had always been to have a conversation with her without stuttering, but I couldn't. I elongated the "m" in the word "music," stuttered my way through the word "Juilliard," and had a block form on nearly all words that started with "p." It was frustrating, but at least both Bella and I had an evening free of meetings and groups. Chief Swan met me in the foyer by the stairs. "She's having a hell of a time making heads or tails of whatever's in that book. I've tried to help but she gets mad at me." In the kitchen I found her hunched over the table. "W-w-what ssssubject?" I asked quietly. "Hell if I know. There's a bunch of numbers and letters." Nodding, I chuckled in my head at his words. They were so alike. "O-okay." I sat down the table and said hello. She barely returned the greeting. She was studying freshman-level algebra, and it was clear that she was frustrated to the point of agitation. The left hemisphere of the brain was logical and methodical. It helped process information in linear ways, so it was normal for someone like her to have issues with it.

I watched her for a minute as her eyes darted all over the page. She wrote things down, still in somewhat childish script, but then she couldn't even finish an equation. She would write only half of it before she flipped to the back of the book to look at the answer. Her agitation grew to the point where tears were forming. Her fingers tightened on the pencil. I wondered if I would be able to handle the coming storm. Dr. Eleazar said there was no shame in admitting that there were times when I couldn't handle things like this. He said it would be acceptable to admit that there were times when Bella was too much for me. "C-c-can I hhhelp?" Finally she looked up at me, two little tears spilling over and running down each cheek. "I hate schoolwork." I reached for the book, but she closed it and stood up. She gripped the lip of the table and held on until she was steady. "Dinner," she said. As far as I knew, Chief Swan allowed her to cook dinner once or twice a week. I helped as much as I could, but mostly I just told her the names of things. She would probably forget them again tomorrow. "What's thatthat thing?" "W-w-what thing?" "You know, the thing that takes the skin off of potatoes." I pulled it out of the utensil drawer. "A p-p-p-p-p-peeler." I had to remind her twice that she was cooking beef and noodles with mashed potatoes. The noodles were somewhat overcooked since she forgot to set the timer, but all in all it was a good way to spend an hour and a half. The evenings had gotten warmer, so that's when we took our walks. She always held onto my arm and every third or fourth step, she would lose her balance and would brush me. Three blocks from her house, we looked down and saw a very tiny black and white kitten. She crouched down slowly. Animals were dirty, and I knew Bella hadn't liked her mother's cat. She'd told me once that she was neither a cat nor a dog person. When it looked like she was going to pick it up, I gasped. She stopped before touching the shivering thing and looked up at me. "Bella, it's d" I stopped before I said that word. Even though I knew that what happened before was because she was attempting something sexual, and chances were that she wouldn't have the same response, I went in another direction. "It mmm-mmight have m-m-mange." She picked it up anyway. I thought we were going to take it to the shelter, but Bella carried it back to her house and showed it to her father. He looked at me, but I had no answers, so he looked back at her. "Okay," he said with an accepting sigh. She washed it in the bathroom sink, dried it with a towel, and offered it milk. The kitten seemed incredibly happy, but when she put a bit of leftover fish on a plate, I could tell that it was in love with her.

I sat somewhat uncomfortably in her rocking chair as I watched the cat walk around her bed. Chief Swan ran out to the Thriftway to get all of the necessary things required to own a cat. "You d-d-don't like cats." She picked the thing up and hugged it to her chest. "I like this one." She sniffed it. "It smells nice now." "W-w-what w-wwwwill you name it?" She seemed to consider it for a moment. "I'll name him Frodo Baggins." I smiled. "W-why?" "Why not? It's cute." The cat seemed like it was in heaven as she pet it. No doubt that it was. I loved when Bella ran her fingers through my hair and I hoped that one day we would be close enough to be like that again. I felt a little jealous of it. She had already added "Feed Cat, Clean Catbox, Pet Cat" to her list of things to do every day. It curled up in a ball and fell asleep. Bella tried to get off of the bed carefully but her foot caught on the opposite leg and she fell. I was on the floor next to her as quickly as I could. Placing my hand upon hers, I waited to see if she was upset. She wouldn't look at me and I got worried. When she finally did, she said, "You can't feel bad for me. Idid this." She breathed deeply and exhaled slowly. "I was stupid." "Bella, I" She didn't wait to hear what I had to say; instead she was onto something else. Her mind had already shifted gears. "What happened?" she pointed to my hand and I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I had bitten my hand in my sleep. For two nights, sleep had been difficult. Group was brutal. The new kid talked very graphically about what his uncle used to do to him, and then yesterday Dr. Eleazar and I talked about Joseph a lot. My dream was incredibly realistic and I woke up biting my hand. "B-b-bad d-dream." She used her right hand to reach out and touch mine. She chose to use her right hand more to continue building the strength in it. She'd regained use of it almost completely. "Are you okay?" I smiled and nodded, but then remembered what Dr. Eleazar said about intimacy. It was more than just physical closeness; more than just sex.

"It w-was ab-b-b-bout JJJJ-JJJJoseph." "Oh," she said as she turned to look out of her bedroom window. "It w-w-w-was the night my fffffather k-killed him." "Oh," she said again. "You r-r-remember the lllletter I w-wrote you?" She nodded. "My ffffather found us and hhhhe k-killed him, but hhhhe meant to k-kill me. That w-w-was w-w-w-when hhhhhhehhhhe t-t-t-took a c-c-c-c-c-c-cw-w-w-w-wire andandand then he th-th-there w-w-was a kn-kn-kn" I was trying to say the word "knife," but it would barely form in my mind, so I gave up. Bella said nothing but continued to stare out of the window, absently petting the growing black and white ball of fur in her lap. "Hhhhe k-kept JJJJ-JJJJ, his b-body in the b-b-b-basement and mmmmade me an-an-anoint him liiiike Ch-Christ." All of this was in that letter, but it felt different actually saying it to her. "Oh." I was growing concerned because she wouldn't look at me. "That'sthat's w-what I d-dreamt about." "Oh." I roughly ran my hands through my hair. "W-w-w-will you ssssay ssssomething o-other than 'o-o-oh,' p-p-please?" "Oh," she sighed. "Sorry. I justI'm sorry that happened." Bella finally looked at me, but I couldn't read her face. "I can'tDr. Renata says II meanmy mind justI hear what you said, but I can't" "I d-d-didn't mean to b-bite mmmy hands." "Okay." I couldn't tell if she was upset or mad or indifferent. It worried me. "W-w-w-will you ssssay sssomething, p-p-p-please?" "I hope your dad goes to hell." "Hhe w-will," I whispered. "I know I can't walk very fast, so I'd probably be really slow at hiking, but I want to go to the meadow." She had stopped looking at me again and I wished I knew what was wrong. I could worry all day about if she was upset that I'd told her about my dream or if she was upset that I bit my hand, but it probably wasn't anything to do with either one. Her mind worked differently now. I doubted she was trying to be rude or that she had forgotten any of the conversation, but she was just focused on the next thing. It was the same when she cooked. She'd only chop half an onion before she started on the carrots, only to return to the onions once she was reminded that she still had to finish it.

The sun was shining and the flowers were just as pretty as the first time I saw her among them. We lay on the blanket, the ground still slightly soggy from the previous day's rain. My feet were muddy, but I worked to accept it. "It's aayou know, the thingie that you push babies in." "A stroller?" "Yeah, a stroller." I pointed next to the fluffy white stroller. "Th-that's R-R-Ron W-W-Weasley's hhhhouse." Bella laughed and I rolled over onto my side to look at her. "It's a tree," she said. "Bella, I ww-w-wwwant to k-kiss you." Her head turned and her skin sparkled in the sun. "Okay." "P-p-platonically, of c-course." She rolled her eyes. "In that case," she said as she looked back up at the skyand tapped the side of her face, "you can kiss my cheek." I didn't move because I didn't want to kiss her cheek. I wanted to kiss her. When she looked at me again, I pressed my lips against hers. She was so soft. I loved her so much. I'd had the letter from Juilliard for two weeks but still hadn't said anything to Bella. I felt bad about purposely withholding information from her. I hoped she'd be excited for me, but I didn't know what her reaction would be. Plus, it made me anxious to think about the decision I'd made. I was going to live in New York, a city packed with people, some who weren't "good.". Dr. Eleazar and I went round and round until I felt better about actually making the choice. I could have gone to the University of Washington and taken Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday classes, leaving me Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday for helping Bella. But Dr. Eleazar and Carlisle and Esme really wanted me to see that UW couldn't compare to Harvard, and when they realized that what I really wanted was to study music, they were very determined to help me understand that Juilliard was the only place for me to study at my level. I knew they were right. They didn't talk me into doing anything I didn't already want to do. The only thing that would've held me back was Bella. No, Bella wouldn't have held me back, my need to be in her life and have her in mine would have. The point was moot. I'd been accepted and most of the preparations had been made. The only thing left was to tell Bella. I'd been dragging my feet. I wanted to tell her and celebrate with her, because not everyone got in. In fact, most people who

applied didn't get in. I wanted her to be proud of me because I was taking such a big step. The future was right in front of me, but I understood that hers was still on hold. It was getting to the point where I had to tell her. If I didn't, I either wouldn't go or she would be blindsided when I left late in the summer. The decision about when to tell her had to be carefully planned. I knew she had an appointment with her therapist, so if she became really upset, she would have an outlet and someone to help her. I told her while we sat in her kitchen. That was also planned. Her father was in the next room. I'd contemplated taking a walk and telling her in a peaceful setting like the woods, but I didn't know what she would do or how she would react. In her own house, with her father nearby, she was contained. Her jaw was tense and I could see the muscles move as she clenched and unclenched her teeth. She was staring at her hands and I could tell she was measuring her breaths the way I had to when I didn't want to have a panic attack. "Bella?" "Can't you just stay?" Her voice shook and I felt horrible. I wasn't her boyfriend in name, but deep down, no matter who said it was better for us not to be in that kind of relationship, I knew that she was still my girlfriend. We still belonged to each other. "Just stay and I'll work really hard to graduate, and" "B-Bella, I hhhhave to g-go. It's J-J-J-JJJJJuiliard. It's" "Fine," she said, looking up, her voice clipped. "Just fucking go." I was more than a little shocked. She hadn't cursed in a very long time. In fact, I was so shocked that I just sat there and watched her leave the room. I could hear her on the stairs, making her slow ascent to her room. Chief Swan called her name. I hoped he wouldn't come in here and be angry with me. He already knew I was leaving for New York in the fall. Despite having anticipated Bella's reaction, I still felt horrible all night. I worried about her until I fell asleep. Then I dreamt about her. After school the next day, Bella came over for dinner. We didn't speak until everyone had eaten and we were alone. I played the piano to give myself something else to focus on. When she finally spoke, it felt well-practiced. Her voice was calm. "I'm sorry I tried to make you feel bad about a great opportunity. I'm excited for you. I was just scared." I noticed how bright her eyes were. Unshed tears sparkled there and I wondered, yet again, if I was making the right decision. "So the school year's almost over." I nodded at Dr. Eleazar. "Y-yes." "How are you feeling about the upcoming move?"

I bit the inside of my cheek gently. I never did it hard enough to tear the sensitive flesh, but the action seemed to help me remain calm and not bite my hands. "O-o-o-o-okay." "Really?" His voice conveyed his doubt. I shook my head. "N-n-nervous." He smiled. "For what it's worth, I think you'll do fine there." "B-but Bella will be by herself." In many of our sessions lately, we spoke about my feelings for her and how instead of balancing me, I had allowed my need and want for her to override everything else. I had depended up on her for my happiness. It wasn't healthy to do that with anyone, but it was made worse because Bella hadn't been healthy either. "She'll have her father," he reminded me. I looked away. He didn't understand. "B-but she won't have me." "Physically, no, but I don't imagine that you'll abandon her emotionally, will you?" "No! I-I-I've ssssaved almost all the money C-Carlisle's g-given me, so I'll c-come back sometimes and I'll c-call her. E-e-email too." By the expression on his face, I could tell he approved. "How is she doing with it all?" "B-better. She's still sad b-but I think she's happy for me." He nodded and I knew he was ready to change topics. I was able to predict the shifts better now. "Your hands look good." I nodded. "Have you felt like biting them?" I shook my head. It was one accomplishment I was proud of. Now when I was frustrated or upset, I played music, and if there wasn't an instrument around, I composed songs in my head. When that didn't work, I focused on something else. I still had to sit on my hands from time to time, but it didn't happen a lot. I chewed lightly on the inside of my cheek sometimes too, but that was far less destructive. "Do you think you'll have issues functioning in a large city?" "I-it's only as b-big as I m-make it," I answered quietly. I'd thought a lot about this. I would probably have issues when I first got there, but I could stay in one area until I felt comfortable and then explore more of the city. Carlisle could only take off two weeks to help me acclimate and then I would be on my own. No one would be there to hold my hand, but I was determined to make them all proud of me. I knew that I could do it. I could be successful and live life without hiding under tables or behind people. I could be independent. Once I could prove it to everyone, including myself, I would be able to be with Bella again. My hopes were that once she graduated, she'd move to New York to be with me and we could take care of each other again. This time we would be strong for each other and for ourselves.

The move was months away, but I already missed her. "What are some of your fears?" I thought about it. "Failing. Being w-w-wicked. Ssssomeone hurting me. Ssssomeone hurting Bella when I c-can't be with her. N-not being gggood enough for J-J-JJJJuilliard. N-n-not lllliiiking mmmmy n-n-n-new therapist. D-disappointing everyone." He gave me a knowing smiled. "So same old, same old?" he asked in a lighthearted tone. "Y-yeah," I said making it, "b-but I'm w-working on it." She walked very carefully down the stairs and my chest tightened, but it wasn't panic that seized me. It was overwhelming emotion. I loved Bella Swan. She looked so unsure of herself and nervous. I knew Alice had been with her all day and while I loved my sister, I knew that she could be too much sometimes, especially for a girl like Bella. "You lllllook so p-pretty," I said as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She let go of the banister and looked at her feet. "These are okay?" I smiled as she wiggled a foot, impressed with her newfound balance. The flat sneakers actually looked good and I knew that they were practical. Bella would have broken her neck or some other vital part of herself had she worn anything else. I couldn't stop looking at her. She blushed. "They'll all look at me," she whispered. "That's b-b-because you're b-beautiful." Her blush deepened. "I told Alice she should come with us." I felt a little sad because I knew how upset Alice was when Jasper couldn't make it back. She had cried, but then turned all of her attention to helping Bella prepare, which was so much better than hurting herself. She decided not to tag along. Bella's father told us to have fun and although I could tell he wanted to make a big deal of it, he didn't. She was nervous, and her rapid breathing reminded me of my own when I was anxious. She wasn't alone in her nervousness. I was slightly on edge too, wondering if we had made a mistake, or since it was my idea, if I had made a mistake for the both of us. She had come so far. Her speech was clear and crisp, even though she still fought to think of the correct words. Her limp had become less noticeable since she'd been able to regain use of her leg and arm. She looked happy.

She let me touch her face and only once in a while would she flinch. Bella was chewing on her bottom lip the way she did when she was agitated, but she looked so lovely in her blue dress. I never thought I'd see her in a dress, but she'd changed a lot since I first met her. We hovered by the entrance, watching other people go in. I felt butterflies in my stomach, but I reminded myself I would be in one of the largest cities in the world in a few short months. I couldn't let my nerves stop me. I thought that maybe she wouldn't let me convince her to go in. That perhaps her aversion was too strong and that we'd end up going home. I needed to get her to relax, so I took her hand and walked away from the doorway. "You kn-know, I've b-been thinking." I paused and she waited for me to continue. "If you w-w-were any character ffffrom a b-b-book, I think you're owyn." Once we were in a deserted hallway, I stopped and looked at her when she asked, "Why?" "B-b-because you're not Gollum." Bella sighed. "That's good to know." "You're owyn b-because you're a b-beautiful w-warrior like she is." I got an eye roll. "A-a-and if I'm FFFFaramir, you're owyn." I leaned down, bringing my mouth close to her ear. "They m-mmmet in the HHHouse of HHHealing, you know." She moved closer to me, her head pressed against my chest. "You're trying to distract me from what's in the gym." I smiled and pressed my lips to the top of her head. "It hhhhasn't w-worked?" "A little." "I'll hhhhhave t-to w-w-work hhhharder then." She was already in my arms, but I moved her hands around my waist and held her close to me. She wasn't my girlfriend in name, but I also knew she would always be mine. My heart would always be hers. Slowly, I began to lead her in a soft sway, a quiet dance that seemed to offset the annoying thumping music that came from the gym. In no time, I would be off to New York and she would stay here with her father, but I couldn't focus on that. I had to focus on what was happening now. Right now I had her in my arms and we were dancing without music. Even though I hadn't told anyone, I'd been practicing and this moment felt right. I took a deep breath. "These arms of mine," I began to sing and felt elated when I heard her breath catch, "they are lonely,

lonely and feeling blue." I kept our sway steady and actually enjoyed the subtle tension in my body. "These arms of mine, they are yearning, yearning from wanting you." We finished dancing as I completed the song, both of us delighting in the smoothness of my voice. Then we walked back to the entrance of the gym. Simultaneously we both took a deep breath and prepared for what was to come. Together, we took the first step into the gym and exhaled as one, her hand in mine.

~ Fin ~

Epilogue Continuation The Pieces For Closure!

Edward sits facing way from me as I trace the patterns of raised flesh on his back. He no longer flinches when I touch them, but he won't let me do it for long. His knees are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around his legs. He's staring out the window. Sitting up, I press my naked flesh to his back and rest my chin on his shoulder and whisper, "What's wrong?" I can feel him breathing and I enjoy it. I wrap my arms around him as he shakes his head. I already know he won't answer because nothing's really wrong. I feel like I should remember something, but as much as I try, I can't. I kiss his shoulder and then move away, pulling on his blue t-shirt on my way to the wall. My schedule is there. It's November something. It's a Tuesday. Tuesdays we both have places to go. I study the words on the sheet of paper and remember that I have class. I look at his schedule, the one that reminds me where he'll be at all times, and see that he's got class too. That's right. He's almost finished with school and I've just begun. He'll walk me to class and then go to his own. When I'm finished, I'll wait for him to come get me. We'll drink coffee on the way home. But there's something else about today that I should be remembering. I look back at him and find that he's still looking out the window. "We have something to do tonight?" I ask, vaguely remembering an in-depth conversation last night as we ate dinner on the floor of the apartment. Edward finally turns around and gives me one of his most tentative smiles. "C-c-concert." My neurons fire and my brain makes the connections that should have already been there and I realize that he's quiet because he's nervous about playing in front of people again. Every time it's the same and every time at the end, he gets huge applause because people really like him.

"You'll be great," I tell him before moving back over to him and taking his hand. I pull him off the bed and move myself into his arms. I like forcing my way into his stiff, closed off space. It's like swimming against the current until he finally relaxes and accepts my comfort. "Y-y-you'll b-be there?" I smile. "Where else would I be?" It's cute how he always thinks I might have something better to do than be with him. Some day he'll know that there's nothing better out there for me. He sighs and his arms tighten around me. "D-don't fffforget to call your d-d-d-dfffather." It was Tuesday. I call my dad on Tuesdays and two other days, but I can't remember which ones right now. I gently push away from him and pick up his hand again. "Bad dream?" He pulls his hand from mine and hides it behind his back for a second, as if that erases the teeth marks. Finally, he shakes his head. "N-no. Just n-nervous." "Do you want to call" Crap. I forget his docto r's name, so I move to the phone and look at the list of numbers next to it. "Dr. Canaday?" "N-n-no." He crosses the room and links a finger with mine. I know he's not supposed to bite his hands, but I don't say anything. He knows it too. "What are you going to play?" I ask when I remember yet again about the concert. "Ch-Ch-Chopin." "Can I wear my newthing? The one with the sparkly things on it?" I can't think of the word, but I know Edward will be able to tell me. "Shirt?" "Yes. My new shirt; or do I have to wear a dress?" "Y-you d-don't hhhhave to w-wear anything." I look at his face. He's so beautiful it hurts. "I can't go naked, Edward." The crease in his brow disappears. "W-well, you c-can, b-but people will llllook at you." I like his voice and it distracts me to the point where I forget what it is we're talking about, so I move on. "I want eggs." I lead him to the kitchen where he starts working on toast and coffee as I break the eggs open in the skillet. "What class do I have today?" Without turning around, he answers, "L-L-LLLiterary In-n-nterpretation." Right. I think a bit harder and remember that I'd completed the reading assignment two nights ago. I feel better knowing that I'm prepared. "What do you have?" "Theory." I'm supposed to know what that means and I'm sure he's explained it to me a hundred times, but I don't ask again. I'll look it up on my computer once I'm at school. Edward takes the subway after he drops me off. I'm surprised he can do that. He doesn't like to be around people, but somehow he pushes himself onto the train nearly every day. "I love you," I say because I've learned that it's good for people to know those things. His smile is nice as he butters the toast. He doesn't say it back to me but he will later. He always does. A cry from F.B. reminds me that I haven't fed the cat, so I let the eggs cook and do everything I need to

do to care for him. Edward doesn't like the cat much, but if I completely forget to feed him, Edward will do it by the end of the night. I try to remember though. After breakfast and getting our things around, he walks me to school and holds my hand. I'm anxious as I eye the door. I've been in that building so many times. I know what's in there, but it doesn't help me be less nervous. I don't tell him about my anxiety anymore. He can only help me with it so much. It's up to me. His thumb strokes the back of my hand as my mind reasons with itself that there's nothing bad inside and I can let go of his hand at any time and stand alone. That's what we've learned together; that we can't fix each other, we can only help pick up the pieces when they fall around us. He strokes the scar on my neck and his eyes twinkle. "You'll hhhhhave a g-good d-day," he tells me. He never wishes me to have a good day; he always just says I'll have one. "I'll t-t-text you w-when I'm on the t-train." I bite my lip and look back at the entryway. There's nothing bad inside. There are people in there that like me. I talk to them every time I come here. They're friendly to me. They're my friends. He kisses me and I'm struck once again with excitement. It's like that whenever I feel his lips on me. When he pulls back, I let his hand slip from mine and I finally return his smile. "You'll have a good day too." "I-I llllove you, Bella." He takes a step back as I take a small step towards the door. "I love you too, Edward." I turn to enter, but then want to see him one more time before I'm swallowed by the sea of students. I turn around and just glimpse the back of his head as he's swept in the opposite direction, following the crowd. He'll take the train, study, and then meet me where we always meet. He'll smile at me and I'll smile back. We'll get coffee and hold hands until we're home. The routine is always the same and it's comforting. One day it will change because he's almost finished with school, but I can't think about the transition yet. I've learned through my constant therapy and support groups that being bogged down by what's to come won't help me. The only thing I can do is take it one day at a time. ~*~

Just Wait Outtakes

Outtake #1 ~ Good For You FGB
Shes grown since last year. Even as the words came out, I wanted to snort at the obviousness of the statement, but I thought the same thing as she stepped off that plane a few days ago. Kids grew. I looked from my friend Billy Black, and then over to where his boy was playing with Bella by the water. I smiled as she shoved Jake into the mud. She mightve been smaller than he was, but she sure could make him cry.

Yep, I said in reply. I couldve said more, but hell, Billy had three kids and knew how quickly they grew. He was quiet, but I knew he wanted to say something else. Of the two of us, Billy was the spokesperson. He liked to talk and could shoot the shit with anyone. Hell, in high school, the boy spent more time in detention for talking out of turn than he did in class. I spent a fair number of afternoons in detention with him, but not for gabbing. Mostly it was for chasing the girls around instead of getting homework and projects finished. Harry, on the other hand, was as saintly as they came. He was the one wed cheat off of; he always did his homework and studied for tests. I never knew how he did it because he held down a twenty-hour-a-week job and had a girlfriend. Harry got to Sue before I did and for a while it made me angry, but they were the couple in our class. Everyone knew they were dating. Hed bring her flowers to school and make a big deal out of her birthday or Valentines Day. He was an asshole like that. Always making the rest of us look bad in front of the girls. Harry brought Sue roses today. Why didnt I get roses? Hell, they were King and Queen of prom and I was just the schmoe that got his date pregnant in the back seat of his Geo Prizm. My life would have been incredibly different had I taken Beth Dunbar to the prom instead. She was actually on the pill. Hell, she and her husband were still trying to get pregnant, and no dice. I couldve busted a million condoms and never have been told the next month that I was going to be a daddy. Not that I didnt want Bella. Of course I wanted her. In fact, I was probably the only reason she was here. Her mother had come to me to tell me she was pregnant and in the same breath asked for help getting the money for an abortion. That was a lot to handle for an eighteen-year-old kid. Id grabbed her hands and held her tight, figuring she was just scared of being a young mother. She was going to go to the University of Southern Florida in the fall and I was sure being pre gnant wasnt in her plans, but there was something inside of me that screamed. I wanted that baby. That was my baby. She went away that night with angry tears in her eyes. She said shed do it with or without my help because it didnt matter what I thought. I tried for a week, but she wouldnt answer my phone calls. When I went by her house, her old man was pissed. He mustve found out. Id only met him one other time, but my mother would talk about him with her friends. She called him a no-good drunk. He held me up against the side of the house and I thought for sure he was going kill me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as my eyes grew blurry, but somehow his hand loosened and I was on the ground, gasping for breath. When I could focus again, I saw he was gone and the door was wide open. Like the cocky, too-dumb-to-be-afraid kid I was, I just walked in. He could have been in there with a shotgun, but I was inexperienced in all of the ways one person could hurt another. I found her in her bedroom. It was in shambles and so was she. Her daddy obviously smashed up her room and gave her a lickin too. Her face was black and blue and swollen. Her hands were broken and bloody. I was proud that shed fought back. I would have killed her father for her if shed asked me to. But that wouldnt really help her and she was having my baby. Being in prison for murder wasnt how I wanted to spend my first years as a daddy. My own father spent a fair share of time in jail, and even when he got out, all he did was run around on my mother and start fight after fight in the local bar.

The best thing that ever happened to my mom and me was the night he stole all her money and left town. Being broke was no fun, but my mother was very social. All of her friends and everyone at church pitched in and helped us out. As I looked at the crying girl on the floor, I made the decision that would change my life. I grabbed her bags from the closet and started throwing all of her stuff inside of them. I didnt know how I woul d fit all of them into the Prizm, but Id find a way. What are you doing? Taking you away from here. Shed dried her eyes and bit her lip, a habit she would pass along to our daughter. The procedures in Olympia and it costs Ill marry you. You dont have a job, Charlie. My uncle Tims on the police force. Hes offered to help me get something set up. She rolled her eyes. You cant make money as a cop. I can make enough and if your old man ever comes near you again, Ill be authorized to shoot him dead. With the offer of a new life, a life away from her father, she relented and decided to keep the baby. She told me so many times in the nine months that followed that shed never wanted to be a mother. She told me that she didnt know how. She said that I would have to give her breathing room and cut her some slack since shed never known her own mother. I found us a house to buy on land contract after I joined the academy. Shed been right, I couldnt make much money to start, but I loved it. I liked the uniform. I liked the gun. I liked the thought of helping others and holding people to the rules and standards of society. The bigger the baby got, the more excited I was to finally meet the little thing wed created. Looking back, it was easy to see that Renee never really wanted to discuss the baby at length. I thought then that she was just nervous about the childbirth process. I was nervous, so it seemed fair that she might be too. Bella was beautiful and the moment I heard that little wailing voice, my entire life changed. Just a day before Id been thinking about a deep-sea fishing trip I wanted to go on with Billy and Harry, but as soon as I saw that little baby, I found better uses for that money. She would need toys, and clothes, and a soccer ball. She would need to go to college and maybe a trip to Mexico for Spring Break. No, not Mexico where the girls flash everyone in a drunken haze. Id send my Bella Marie to France or someplace high-class, amongst a civil society. Renee said that she was too tired to hold the baby and for the first day and a half of Bellas existence, she let the nursing staff do all the work. Finally, Renee agreed to hold her after I sat down on next to her on the bed. They were beautiful together and I felt so lucky. She had what the doctors called Post-Partum Depression. She stopped eating for a while, making it impossible for her to breastfeed Bella. Formula was expensive. So was the medication. I would find it untouched, the bottle still holding forty-five pills after thirty days. She said she took it and back then I couldnt figure out why she wouldnt, and I didnt want to believe she was lying to me. She rarely got out of bed and had absolutely no interest in Bella. My mother stayed with her while I was at work.

Then one day I came home from work and shed baked a bunch of sweet goods, cleaned the entire place, and was feeding Bella. My mom smiled and said that the worst seemed to be over. I couldnt have been happier. After that, things were fineuntil the day I came home from work and everything was just gone. I hated thinking about that day. I sat in the living room waiting in vain for them to return. For their things to magically appear. For an explanation. For a phone call. For anything. As darkness fell outside, the shadows inside the house became long and taunted me like the ghosts of what once was. Bellas crib was empty. Everything was just gone. They were just gone. The fish werent biting, so I sat down in the lawn chair Id brought and p opped open another beer, pushing the thoughts away. The day was too bright for that kind of memory, and Bella was here now. Billy followed suit. Both of our eyes focused on the kids. His two older girls were beyond playing in the mud. They sat reading fashion magazines. Dad! his oldest yelled, Bella made Jakey cry. I can hear that, was Billys response, accompanied by a chuckle. Its good for him. Can we go home yet? I smiled a little smugly at the question. At least Bella wasnt one of those frilly girls who wouldnt get dirty. No. Its a beautiful day out and your mama needs some quiet. The smile faded from my face. His wife had just found out that her cancer was back. Shed barely survived the last bout and now it was in her lymphatic system. Everyone said shed be okay, just like last time, but I thought everyone was blowing a line of bullshit. Billy knew. She knew. Hell, I knew. It wouldnt be but a year and hed be a widower. They were keeping it from the kids for now. You hear from Renee? My eyes snapped to him at the sound of her name. Even after all of these years, it still nearly took my breath away. I hadnt loved her in that backseat, just her body, but when I saw her tear-streaked face in her fathers house that day, something happened and love was all I felt for her. Not since Bellas been here. What kind of mother doesnt? Dont go there, Bill, I warned. It was a best friends duty to be negative about his friends ex, but I hated it when people spoke badly of her. I didnt agree with what shed done, but I loved that woman and I didnt want anyone talking about her like that. Im sure she just doesnt want to talk to me. Crystal would have a fit if she couldnt talk to her babies every day. Renee aint Crys, I said curtly. Well, what does Bella say?

I took a deep breath. What does she say about what? Her mother. Finishing my beer, I crushed the can in my fist, threw it in the cooler and grabbed another one. I wished hed get the hint and just shut up already. Nothing good ever came from talking about Renee. She doesnt say anything about her mother. Again, I knew that he had something else to say, so as I drained my beer, I cocked an eyebrow in challenge. Billy shook his head, pulled on his line and then took another beer from the cooler. Nothings biting. Nope. Dont you think its odd that she dont say anything about her mama? Dont you think its hard for a girl that age to make sense of things that go on between adults? But Billy. He looked up at me, his lips set in a frown as I went on. SheRenee hates me for whatever reason. Either she thinks I ruined her life or just thinks that Im a backwater hick, it doesnt matter. Maybe she says bad things about me in front of Bella. Maybe its difficult for a kid like Bella to know what to say and when. I finished my beer and then reeled in my line. She probably doesnt trust me enough to say anything and I dont think its odd that Renee doesnt call. She gets one time a year to herself. Hell, she could be in Belize for all I know. Damn fish. Took my bait and not the hook. I threaded another mealworm in hopes of tempting a trout. So far wed caught nothing. What the hell would she being doing in Belize? I let out a tension-filled sigh. How would I know what Renee would do anywhere? But I stood up and effectively cut him off. Im not talking about Renee anymore, Bill. Shes not in my life, except for when she needs something. She takes my kid and takes my money; I dont care to speculate about what she does with her time as long as she takes care of Bella. The rest is none of my business. But dont you I was about ready to throw his ass in the mud so he could cry like his boy. Did you see that this is Juniors last season with the Mariners? I shook my head and hoped Billy would let the other conversation go. Hed understood, and we spoke at length about the travesty that was about to befall ou r beloved team. When Billy stood up, he groaned and had to quickly sit back down. His legs and lower back had been giving him some trouble ever since his construction accident. I thought hed gotten it taken care of, but it still seemed to bother him quite a bit. I didnt say anything, because if I was injured, I wouldnt want anyone making a big deal about it every time I had pain. Slowly, he stood back up and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed okay, so we went back to focusing on fishing and laughing at the kids. Later on at the diner, I watched Bella stick her finger and draw out some blood. She was so adult about it and was trying to be discreet since we were in a public restaurant. I probably should have been more educated about Type 1 diabetes and I felt like an ass for not knowing more about it. I would look into it when she went to bed.

Everything okay over there? The machine beeped and she chewed on her lip. Yes. Why do you look worried? She tucked all of her things away and sanitized her hands. Umdo you thinkumthat you could get me some more lancets and test strips? She took in a deep breath, her face turning red as if she was embarrassed about something. I forgot most of them at home andI need them. It was just like Renee to send the girl unprepared. Sure. Well get em on the way home. What are you eating? At home that night she read a book I bought for her at the grocery store while I watched ESPN. We didnt talk much and sometimes I felt bad about that. I bet her mother was much better at this parenting stuff than I was. I had the excuse of only getting to see Bella a few days out of the year, but still, I shouldve been able to at least engage her in appropriate conversation. So your grandma wants to see you tomorrow. You okay with going there? Bella nodded and gave me a smile. I hoped she knew how beautiful she was. I wanted to tell her, but I thought it might seem weird coming from me. You smile like your grandma. Must be why she likes you so much. She giggled and my heart felt a little fuller. Shed be here for another four weeks and then Id have to stick her on a plane and send her back to Phoenix. I pushed the thought away and finished my beer. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt and I noticed a deep purple mark on her thigh and one on her upper arm. Howd you get those nasty bruises, Bunny? She shifted and gave me a strange smile. Gymnastics. Bella spoke about as much as I did, so I cocked an eyebrow at her and hoped shed expand o n her statement. My coach says I have no athletic ability and definitely no natural talent. I couldnt help but frown. That didnt seem like something encouraging to say to a seven -year-old. Bella looked nervous for a second and then pulled the old afghan down and curled into it. It was a little too warm in the house to need a blanket. I probably shouldnt have said anything. She seemed embarrassed by the bruises and here Id called attention to them and she had to cover them up. Theres more to life than athletic ability. Youve got good brains, Bunny, thats more important. She smiled but returned her eyes to her book. I took her to Seattle one day with Billy and Jake and we watched the Mariners play. We went fishing a lot because she seemed to like running around and being outside. I wondered what she did at home with her mom, because Renee certainly wasnt the fishing type. The day I had to take her to the airport about broke my heart just like always. Right before she boarded the plane, she looked up at me with those big brown eyes and asked, Um, next time, can I stay longer? I smiled even though I knew how long she stayed was up to my ex-wife. If I had my way, shed at least live nearby and I could see her every week, even if it was only for a quick minute or two. Bella clutched my hand tightly as the stewardess came to help her onto the plane. My daughter was so small. I bet that big airplane seat dwarfed her little body. Can I stay for another week? she asked, her voice even softer than it normally was. I promise I wont get in your way.

My heart broke; she was never in my way. I knew I wasnt a good dad, n ot the kind she deserved, and I shouldve done more things with her, but I loved her so much. Ill talk to your mom. Maybe you can spend all summer instead of just a few weeks. Little tears slipped from her eyes and she wiped them away with her fisted hand. Her face was red. What about Christmas? Your mother usually keeps you for Christmas. I know but Ill see, Bella-Bunny. Her hand tightened more. Ill be good for you. What? I promise Ill behave and I wont I moved my hand to touch her face. She flinched a little and it hurt that my own daughter didnt know me well enough to not be afraid of me. With my thumb, I wiped away the last of her stray tears. I cant imagine you ever being anything but good. I love you, Bella. Well work something out, okay? Dont worry. The stewardess took her other hand and she let go of mine. I crouched down and she wrenched her hand from the ladys and threw herself at me. I love you, Bunny, I whispered, hoping I didnt start crying in front of all these people. Bye, Daddy. She took the ladys hand again and turned suddenly. I felt sick as she walk away, disappearing and taking my heart with her. ~*~

Outtake #2 ~ Perfect FGB

This was so stupid. I only agreed to come to this lame-ass bonfire because Mike made it sound like he was going to spend time with me. Instead he was getting drunk and high with his stupid friends and mooning over Emmett Cullens girlfriend. I didnt get it. She wasnt that cute, and she was only going to be a sophomore. I said this to Lauren, who rolled her eyes. No, shes not that cute, but shes beautiful, which is why Mike and everyone else wants her, dumb-ass. No one in high school wants the cute and adorable girl, Jessica. They want a gorgeous woman. Duh. Obviously Lauren failed to get the memo which expressed in no uncertain terms that being a good friend meant making me feel better about myself, not worse. I mean, look at her. Shes allall, you know, curvy and junk. Boys like girls with nice boobs. Rosalie has nice boobs and my sicko brother assures me that her hips are sexy and apparently hed like to do nasty things to her assor to any other part of her apparently. Hes a perv. Ew. Your brothers sick. And cute. And totally awesome. And if he would ever open his eyes and realize how much I liked him and how good to him I could be, hed want me too.

You should lose, like, twenty pounds and get your mom to spring for hair relaxant and Mike would totally notice you. She swirled the contents of her red plastic cup and sized me up again. And you need to do something about your eyebrows. I cringed. Lauren stopped sipping her drink and cocked an eyebrow, apparently not done with the conversation. Have you done it yet? I sighed, deflated. No. Well, maybe Mikes not interested in a girl who either wont put out or wouldnt know what shes doing. I hated high school and it hadnt even started. I was fourteen and already I felt like the oldest virgin alive. I knew that Lauren probably hadnt done it yet either, but that she knew I hadnt had sex yet gave her leverage. What if what she said was true? What if I was too inexperienced for Mike? I thought guys liked virgins. What if I was wrong? Mike wasnt even paying attention to me. I liked him so much. Oh, look, the Cullens and the Hales made Ed weird tag along. Lauren was looking over my shoulder. I scanned the crowd because, to be honest, I thought Edward Cullen was kind of cute. Weird, but cute. He was practically glued to Alices side as she held onto her boyfriend Jaspers hand. He looked so uncomfortable. I actually felt bad for him. It wasnt difficult to see that this really wasnt his scene. He had on faded jeans and a dark blue T-shirt. Damn, if it wasnt for the deer-in-headlights expression, hed look fantastic. I wished he wasnt so weird. If he were like everyone else, Id go after him because Mike was kind of a jerk, Eric was definitely a geek and Tyler was not only an ass, but really nasty too. But if Edward was like everyone else, I was sure a prettier girl wouldve gotten to him first. I watched him for most of the night. He was so nervous. It was really obvious that he hated every second he spent here. I wondered for about the hundredth time why he even came. Maybe he wanted to break out of his shell. Maybe he wasnt so weird anymore. Maybe he just felt pressured like I did. Mike, Stephen, and Tom think hes gay. Lauren lifted her cup to her mouth ag ain. She had to be getting drunk by now. No way! Why do they think that? I blinked a few times and pulled my eyes away from Edward, Alice, and Jasper. Lauren was looking at me, but her eyes would go back to them. She was like a hawk and the way her eyes darted back and forth, shed obviously found her next meal. Because hes barely looked at a girl since he moved to Forks, much less spoken to one and the school wont let him take P.E. I totally didnt follow her logic. I rolled my eyes dramatically. He hasnt spoken to a girl because he cant really speak to anyone, can he? And maybe he has scoliosis or something. Her mouth twisted into one of her dirty smirks and I wanted to slap her for it. Or maybe he likes looking at dick.

I hardly think hes gay because he doesnt go to P.E. Sara Schuller doesnt and shes not a lesbian. No, shes just afraid of everyone looking at her tiny little tits in the locker room. Lauren was a bitch. Sara couldnt do P.E. because she had a skin condition and sweating made it worse. Mike said that one day in eighth grade, Edweird hid under his desk and cried. And when Mr. Johnson went to help him, he bit his hand and passed out. Again, I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Whatever. I looked at Mike as he grabbed Angela Webers butt as she walked past and laughed. Lauren was a bitch and Mike was a jerk. Why the hell did I want them as friends? True story. Lindsey was in his class too. She sighed and then cocked her head to the side. I mean, I guess hes kinda cute if youre into loser gay-boys who cry under desks. With her self-satisfied smirk, she turned to me. So basically right up your alley, huh, Jess? One day I was going to hit that bitch so hard her nose would smell nothing but her brain. But it wouldnt be tonight. Id be going to high school soon and you had to have friends. I wouldnt be a nobody in high school. I knew I was slightly overweight, even though my mom said that I was perfect. I knew I could lose a few pounds, even though the doctor said otherwise. I knew my nose was too big, my hair was too frizzy and my eyebrows were too bushy. All of that was fixable, but if I went burning bridges now, my high school experience would be unbearable. If I alienated myself from someone like Lauren, I would never get back in. Never. Lauren was the kind of girl that would go to high school and start calling the shots on the first day. I couldnt risk being shunned or being an outcast. I just couldnt. I squared my shoulders and took a shot of whatever the hell was in the plastic cup and smiled back at Lauren. Maybe he is gay, but hes cute. More than kind of cute, and I bet I can get him to do me tonight. Lauren laughed, but it wasnt vicious. Youre going to fuck Edward Cullen tonight? Maybe. Ill prove he isnt gay and then I wont be so inexperienced for Mike. Maybe instead of Mike, Ill go after Tom. She scowled and now I was smiling. Shed been lusting after Tom since she got boobs and his little bulge grew into a big bulge. Her strategy of flirting, teasing and then playing hard-to-get wasnt working with him. He just seemed hella-frustrated. Lauren spun around and walked away from me. I wouldve celebrated, but Id just committed myself to at least attempting to lose my virginity to the town outcast whod never even spoken to me. God, I was so stupid. But I had to do it; otherwise Id have to go back to Lauren defeated and I didnt want to do that. I wanted to lose my V-card before she did and rub that shit in her stupid face. So I waited. And waited, and waited some more. Finally, Alice and Jasper left him alone. He was sitting on some driftwood away from everyone else, his body really stiff. With butterflies in my stomach, I took a deep breath, went over to him, and sat down. The worst that could happen was rejection, right? I started talking to him as if wed had a hundred direct conversations. He said nothing back. After about fifteen minutes of non-stop speaking about absolutely nothing, I finally looked at him and smiled. He looked a little sick, but at least he was looking back at me.

There was a loud noise over by Jason Bowers truck and some accompanying hooting and hollering. My eyes were drawn to it. The party was raging on, but no one was around us. No one was even looking at us. Why are you so strange? I asked. He looked like he was going to choke or asphyxiate or something. Look, I know you dont dig on talking or anything, so you dont have to, but Im notyou know Im not looking to I sighed. I know I hang out with assholes and all, but Im notlike them. Now I really sounded stupid. Maybe I could just get him to pretend that we had sex. Maybe hed just go along with it. Itd help his reputation too after all. But he was cute and from what I could tell, sex was supposed to be a good time and it seemed like something I wanted to do at some point, so why not tonight? Why not with Edward Cullen? Id bought a joint off of Jacob Black for seven bucks. I pulled it out and used my borrowed Bic to light it. I supposed I shouldve asked him if he minded, but I really just wanted to get everything over with. Most guys I knew got high every once in a while and if they didnt, it was just because they werent cool enough to know someone with weed. I took a hit and then coughed my ass off like a fucking idiot. After recovering, I glanced at him. I wouldnt have thought it possible, but he looked even tenser than before. His hands were balled up tight and he was breathing like he thought I was dying. Im cool. Its just a littleharsh. Losing my virginity to Edweird Cullen would be easier if he was high too, because then he might not reject me outright because my eyebrows were too bushy or my hair too frizzy. If he was high, he wouldnt care that my boobs werent as big as Rosalies and my waist wasnt as small as Laurens. If he was gay and he was high, maybe it would help him see that having sex with me tonight would take the heat off of him. No one would call him gay anymore. I held the joint out to him. Want some? I could see the muscles in his arms flex as he swallowed hard. He looked like he might puke and I wondered if the dude was already wasted or whatever. I had no clue what to do, so I sat there with that smoldering joint just watching him. He had about a million different facial expressions in about fifteen seconds and then slowly, he reached out and took it. I turned away because I figured if he was as new to getting high as I was, I didnt want make him nervous by watching him take his first hit. He started coughing and I smiled. When I looked back at him, I found that he was leaning way back and trying to catch his breath. He kept on coughing and it started to freak me out. I moved closer to him. Just breathe, Edward, I whispered, plucking the pinched joint from his fingers. It took a couple of minutes, but he finally stopped his chest from convulsing. I linked my arm through his and pulled him up off the driftwood. We were down in the sand, facing the ocean, the party behind us. This is better. I relit the joint, took another little pull, then handed it back to him. He shook his head, but I said, Edward, its just weed and I swear to God if anyone on the planet needs a little weed, its you. Again, he took another hit, but looked like he hated it.

I started to feel light and couldve probably floated away over the sea had it not been for what Lauren called my epically large ass. Personally, I thought my ass was fine, but she did have narrower hips than I did. Thinking of Lauren made me think of what wed been talking about. Edward. Gay. Me. Virgin. I turned to him quickly and pressed my lips to his before running my tongue along them. He pulled away quickly, scooting a full foot from me. I huffed. This would only work if he cooperated. Everyone thinks youre gay and everyone thinks being a virgin isnt cool. His eyes widened and his body went rigid again. Im a virgin. Are you gay? He said nothing, so I had to share my idea. We could help each other. I dont know if youre a virgin or if you are gay, but if we just do it, everyone can shut up. Ill be, you know, deflowered and junk and you can tell everyone you banged me and no one will think youre gay anymore. I rose to my knees and moved to him. Edward seemed frozen, like a statue. We dont have to kiss on the mouth or anything. I ignored his bizarre stillness, figuring he was probably a scared shitless virgin like I was. I grabbed his hand and brought it to my breast. I know theyre notnice like other girls, but He swallowed so hard I could hear it over the crashing waves. I felt like I needed to go all Real World confessional with him because he was just not getting it, so I admitted, I know Im not pretty and my body isntsexy or whatever like some of the other girls, but I dont want to be made fun of because Im the only virgin left. He never spoke, so I had no idea what was going through his head, but he must have conceded because he didnt try to stop me when I maneuvered myself on top of him. I barely looked at him and he didnt stop me at all. It was evident that he wasnt going to be much of a participant, so I did all of the work, even though Id imagined the guy on top the first time I had sex. I had no idea what an orgasm felt like, but I was pretty sure the stabbing pain of a penis ripping through my hymen wasnt it. I did my best to pretend like I enjoyed it, and I ignored all of the little sounds Edward made and the way his hands gripped my hips so tight that it hurt. When I felt like wed done it for a sufficient amount of time, I moved off of him, hoping that the fluttering feeling deep in my belly and the heat of my skin meant that I came. I had no idea what a male orgasm felt or sounded like, so I assumed hed had one too. I had b arely touched him the entire time and I didnt see his dick at all. When I was off of him, he was quick to cover himself up. I was sort of shocked at what Id done, but at least Id done it and Lauren couldnt call me a virgin anymore. Now I could tease her because she probably was. Now Mike could like me because I wasnt an inexperienced little girl anymore. I looked down at him and he looked like he couldnt catch his breath again. I had no idea what I should do for him, but I didnt want to see him puke. Quite honestly, I felt disgusted; not particularly disgusted by or at him, but with the whole situation. I had bled. He wouldnt even look at me. He really was weird. I said his name, but he just stared at the sand. When it became evident that he wasnt going to pass out or puke, I shrugged my shoulders. At least this shit was done and I could move on. I did wish hed look at me though. Um, thanks, I said before climbing over the piece of driftwood and leaving him there behind it. I made my way over to Lauren, my body uniquely sore. I gave her a smirk. Totally not gay.

Her eyebrow went up and I squared my shoulders. Just so you know, the thing they say about the quiet ones? All true. You just fucked Edward Cullen? I nodded. Youre such a slut. A heavy sigh escaped me and once again I vowed to one day bust Lauren in her too-perfect nose. I glanced back at the piece of driftwood, but there was no trace of him. Scanning the party, I saw Emmett and Alice with the Hales. He was probably still sitting back there. I toyed with the idea of going back and checking on him, but Mike walked by. Hey, Jess. I bit my lip and felt myself swell with pride. He spoke to me. As I followed him over to the fire, I felt giddy and bubbly and brand new. I forgot about Laurens bitchiness. I forgot about the discarded boy behind the driftwood. Mike seemed to respond to me now that I wasnt a virgin. I had no clue how he could possibly know, but I didnt care. I could do this. I could be who everyone wanted me to be. I was bubbly and bright. Girls liked me and guys wanted me. I could be like Lauren. I could be part of the ruling class. I could be perfect. ~*~

Outtake #3 ~ Someday FGB

I lit a Nag Champa and packed my bowl. As had become the case a lot lately, my head was spinning. It was all Bella Swans fault. I needed a moment to relax before giving the rest of my day to the care of my father. From the minute I walked in the door, my dad was bugging me. Get me this, get me that. Whats for dinner? Wheres the remote? Hand me that beer, would ya? My life was barely my own. Sometimes I hated my mother for dying and my sisters for escaping. Sometimes I really thought about running away like my sisters did. One got married and moved away, but the other one just ran away. Sometimes Rebecca called and gave me just enough information to frustrate the shit out of me. Rachel, who married some idiot from Seattle, liked to call and tells us how awesome her stupid life was. If life was that fucking awesome for my sister, Id think shed maybe send some money to help out with all of Dads shit. I could run away too, but who would help my dad? The weed I had was pretty killer this time around, so after a few huge hits, I felt pretty damn good. Good enough to go out and cook dinner that turned out to be shitty Tuna Helper. As I cooked, I thought about the crap with Bella today. Wed gone out to the woods, like we usually did, but she was fucking weird the whole time. Shed been weird for a while, but ever since Laurens party We hadnt fucked in a while, but she said she was on her period, so obviously we couldnt have sex. I was cool with that, but she mustve thought I was stupid because girls dont bleed that fucking much and if she was, she needed to get her ass to a doctor because Tyler mustve given her a disease or something. Not that Id be surprised; that fucker probably carried all kinds of nasty shit. So we were out in the woods, smoking down and she said, I dont want to fuck you anymore. It was the second time shed just said it, and even though she used simple and direct words, I couldnt quite figure out what exactly she was saying. Bella liked sex. It was kind of her thing. She didnt want hearts and flowers; she wanted to get fucked. A lot.

What? Why? Because of Edward fucking Cullen? What the hell else could it have been? No, because I know you keep thinking that someday Ill be your girlfriend and hol d your hand and shit, but thats not going to happen, Jake, ever. My heart actually hurt at her words. Did she even know how much I liked her? She would have to change to be with Edward, because he and his family were all anti-drug and shit, but she wouldnt have to change to be with me. But you can hold hands with Cullen? She looked all shocked that I picked up on her stupid fascination with Edward. Im not fucking stupid, Bella. I thought she might have been ready to come clean, but she just said, Im sorry if you thought we had more, but we were just fucking, Jacob. And if its worth anything, I kind of think of you as a friend. Im just not interested in anything more. I was a friend? Wow. I never really thought those words would hurt so fucki ng much. And now you dont want to fuck? She shook her head. Well, shit. There was nothing else to say. What was I supposed to do now that she only wanted me as a friend? I thought the sex was great, but maybe it wasnt. She picked up her things. Im trying something new. Are you still going to smoke? The Cullens dont like Yeah, I dont know, Jake. Like I said, Im trying new shit. I have no fucking clue whatll happen. She started to leave but I wanted to talk to her more; I wanted to be with her, so I grabbed her wrist. My grasp was light so there was no way I couldve hurt her, but she looked frightened and froze for an instant. Fuck. She tugged her arm from my grasp and punched me in the gut. I let go and she fell on her ass. Shit. She looked scared shitless for a moment. Jesus, Bella, I wasnt going to hurt you. I reached out to help her up and suddenly all of the dots connected in my mind. Newtons back today, I said casually, just to see her reaction. So? she said casually, but I could tell something was up. What the fuck did he do to you at that party? Her movements stopped. Nothing. Like I just said, Bella, Im not fucking stupid. I know something fucked up happened because you were all fucking weird. And then Cullen beat the shit out of him last week. Newtons fucked with Cullen since they moved here and Cullens never said a word, and then suddenly he breaks Mikes face with his fists? And now youre not fucking me and riding to school with him every day. Im not fucking stupid. It doesnt fucking matter what happened with Newton, Jake. She started walking again, so I gently grabbed her arm again. Bella. Once again she looked scared and pushed me. Stop fucking grabbing me. She actually thought I would hurt her. How could she not know that I would never do that? I would never hurt you, Bella. Why do you always act like I will? By the end of the conversation, I was convinced that Newton had hurt her. He said he fucked her and I

knew she wasnt the blessed virgin or anything, but she wouldnt have fucked Newton. At least, I hoped she wouldnt have, because she hated him. So shit was off when he said how into it she had been. Id fucked Bella plenty of times, and she wasnt a screamer like he said she was. After the party shed looked rough. I mean, she still looked pretty as hell, but she lookedwrong. She had no explanation for where shed been half the night. I was pretty sure hed done something pretty fucking bad because Edward Cullen fucking dr opped his ass. Edward fucking Cullen. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that hed probably raped her or some shit like that. I would kill the motherfucker. I wished shed tell me. I wished she didnt spend so much time with Cullen. P ot smoking and fucking aside, I liked her. Id always liked her. When we were little, shed shove me in the mud and make me cry. And yeah, that shit was embarrassing, but fuck, she used to make it up to me by giving me a little hug. She always smelled so nice and even though the hugs were awkward, they always made me feel better. It pissed me off to think that Mike had done something like that to her. Once my mind made that connection, visuals assaulted me and only served to make me angrier. Tell me about your day, Jakey, He was already drunk and on his way to being wasted. It was just a day, Dad. We both ate a few bites in silence and then he shifted in his chair and groaned. Bad today? I asked, knowing that a normal day for him was filled with pain, but he could usually make it through dinner before it got really bad. That doctors shady. I dont think he gives me the good stuff anymore. Hes cheating me. I sighed and tried to wolf down as much food as I could before it was too cold to stomach. Doctor Cullens not cheating you. Youve built up a tolerance. Well get him to switch your meds to No. That other shit dont work. It was always back to this. There was never a solution for him. Okay, what do you want to do then? He lifted his bottle of off-brand whiskey, the black and white label making it look like the premier brand. You should smoke a little too. I can roll you one. Itll be good for your Wont that fuck with your profit margin? His eyes flashed in anger for a second. I said nothing, even though I wanted to shove it in his face that without that profit margin, we wouldnt have shit. Selling pot bought him that wheelchair. It bought our food and paid for his doctors visits. My dad was always right on the edge of snapping by the end of the night, and whiskey made it worse. You staying out of trouble? His mood had changed again. Of course I am. I go to school. I come home. You know that. You aint selling to Charlies girl, are you? No, Dad, I said, exaggerating my annoyance. I dont sell to Bella. Ohhhhh, Bella. I rolled my eyes at his tone. You still sleeping with her? He didnt give me a chance

to answer. You better not get that girl pregnant. Charliell kill you. Not that he didnt I zoned out at that point because Id heard all of the glory days stories before. Harry loved Sue, and Charlie Swan got a lot of pussy and ended up with a daughter who was stolen by his bitch of a wife. Blah, blah, blah, and yeah, my dad used to play football in the fall and baseball in the spring and if he wasnt in that damned chair, hed show me how fucking good he was. By the time I turned my attention to him again, the old man was almost asleep with a mouthful of food. Dad! He startled awake, blinking rapidly. What the fuck, Jake? You cant fall asleep yet. I couldnt let him. There was too much to do. I hurt. I know. I set down my fork and stood up. You should go to the bathroom and brush your teeth in case you do fall asleep. I aint no kid, boy. I shook my head. This was tiring. It was the same shit every night. I know. I was just reminding you. He forgot everything, but got pissed when I reminded him. I helped him navigate the chair to the living room and then bent down and picked him up. The stupid chair couldnt fit through the hallway, so I had to carry him to the bathroom. With both of his hands on the counter, he could hold himself up while I lifted the seat of the toilet. I stood up and shifted him so he could take a piss. I had to slide my hand around his chest and hold him against me so he could get his dick out. When he was done, I shifted him back to the sink and sort of wedged him between me and the cabinet, keeping a hand around his chest while he prepared his toothbrush. While he brushed his teeth, my mind took me to other places where this wasnt my nightly routine. Like every night, he got into the medicine cabinet and pulled out two of the brown bottles, spilling the contents onto the counter. He counted each twice, and then took what he needed for the rest of the night. Id replace the excess pills later. I picked him back up and muscled him to his room where I set him down carefully on the bed while I got his pajamas from the drawer and left him so he could change. I got him a glass of water, painstakingly separated out his pills where theyd spilled together, and then put them back. Bring me my whiskey. I sighed, walked back to the kitchen, and grabbed the bottle. Hed be out in a few minutes. I wished hed just smoke a little pot instead of drinking every night. It wouldve been better for dealing with the pain and he wouldnt get so mean sometimes. I brought him the water and the booze. He took his pills and then I helped him lay down. What do you want tonight, Dad? Poker? Fishing? Real World? I couldve added porn, since every once in a while Id hear that shit from across the hall. I didnt even think he could get it up, but I didnt really want to know that shit. I flipped the TV on and handed him the remote before helping him with his leg exercises. He didnt do anything but lie there. I did all the work, lifting, bending, and rotating his legs. When the routine was finished, I tucked him under the covers. Youre a good kid, he said, his voice slurred. He took another swig of whiskey and settled back against the pillows. Dont leave me, Jakey. Every night it was the same.

Dont worry about that shit. Im not going anywhere. No. You wont because you aint like them. Not like those whores. I hated when he got so drunk he called my mother and sisters names. I stood up straight. His medicine would kick in and hed be sleeping soon. Night, Dad. I left the room and started picking up the house and cleaning up after dinner. Finally, around eleven, I got high again and thought about Bella. I was going to beat the shit out of Mike. I would make Edwards little outburst seem mild. Bella would understand then. She would realize how much I liked her and what Id do for her. Shed see how much I fucking loved her. Shed realize how good I could be for her. I would take care of her. I was good at taking care of people. Shed run away with me. Wed go to Canada in my little Rabbit and smoke down on that B.C. Kind bud. Id get a job with a grower and she could work in one of those awesome little coffee shops that sold it. Wed be happy there. Wed be happy together. Id never let anyone like Newton even get close to her. Id love every bit of her. Id even love that little snotty attitude she adopted every now and then. Id fucking marry her and we could have kids. Not now, but someday. Shed stop doing that shit she got from Tyler. She wouldnt need it because our love would be enough. I would be enough. Shed settle down with me. And if that never happened, Id still fuck Newton up. That kid has had it coming for a long, long time. I was actually impressed with how Cullen had laid him out and I looked forward to it being my turn. I just wished Bella trusted me enough to tell me what that prick did to her. Shed obviously trusted Edward enough to tell him. I wouldnt lie and say that shit didnt hurt, because it did, but once she saw how much I cared about her, shed trust me too. I was going to show her how much I loved her and one day she would realize that I wasnt just a little kid to shove in the mud anymore. She would see how much I could give her. She would realize that even if she didnt love me right now, shed love me someday. ~*~

Outtake #4 ~ Amazing
It had been nearly three months since he came to stay with us and there had been little to no change in Edward's behavior. While Alice had acclimated nicely, blossoming under the influence of a maternal figure and eager to be a sister to Emmett, Edward remained the same. Alice thrived on attention and Emmett was more than happy to focus on his new sister. They both seemed to bask in their mutual admiration. She would carry on and on about his strength, asking him do things that she could probably do herself, and he delighted in her carefree spirit. Edward, on the other hand, still hid under tables and barely spoke. When he did speak, his stutter prevented anything more than a few stunted sounds to escape. He had nightmares every night, and since I had promised that I wouldn't enter his room unless he was injured or gravely ill, there wasn't

much I could do except knock softly and ask if he was okay, hoping he'd grant me permission to enter. The most disconcerting aspect of Edward's myriad of issues had to do with his hands. He chewed on his finger when he felt slightly distressed, but when he was particularly anxious or nervous, he bit into them with enough force to tear the skin, something I had never seen before. He ate his meals under the table in the foyer. I understood the depth and scope of his issues before I adopted him, but I had underestimated the energy that would be required to help him heal. I was neither disappointed, nor disillusioned by how much time it would take, but he was virtually unchanged from that first day I'd seen him hiding under the table at his foster home. His lack of progress saddened me for his sake. The breadth of his problems was the reason I'd felt so strongly about adopting him. Emmett had more or less fallen into our laps, but had we not intervened, he still would've been placed in a loving home eventually. He was a good boy, and his eagerness to please would have been a draw for potential adoptive parents. That was not the case with either Edward or Alice. Although she had an outgoing personality, Alice had a well-documented dissociative disorder would have red-flagged her, and that, coupled with the fact that no one had any idea where she came from, would have made her a lost cause. The unknown was inevitably a turn-off for many potential parents. Edward's troubles were so intense that very few people would have even considered adopting him. He would've been in the foster care system until he was far too difficult to manage and then sent to a state-funded psychiatric hospital. While my mind was on the kids, my eyes were on my wife. I sat on the couch and watched Kate as she busied herself with trivial things. She was so beautiful; too beautiful to clean as much as she did. I'd told her several times we could afford to pay someone to cook and clean, but she insisted on doing it all herself. She'd never liked the social obligations of being a doctor's wife, but she always accompanied me to all my functions, never complaining, and always dressed in a stylish evening gown. Kate always wore black dresses that contrasted nicely with her blonde hair, looking elegant and understated, the perfect companion. Today was peaceful, lovely and quiet, since all the kids were in school and it was my rest period. Edward's education worried me constantly. There was a wonderful intellect behind those deep eyes, but he was stuck in a school that merely focused on emotional behavior instead of academics. I highly doubted he learned very much there, but none of the private schools I contacted thought they would be able to handle someone with Edward's emotional issues. A psychiatrist friend of a friend insisted that it might be more detrimental to move him to yet another new school, but I felt it was imperative as I loathed his current school. I considered private tutors. Cost wasn't a barrier, but I was concerned that I would be holding him back by not allowing him necessary interaction with his peers. Any way I went, he could be hurt. I'd actually been contemplating a move away from Chicago. None of the children were connected to anything but pain here and if presented correctly, a move could help Edward start fresh. Kate and I had discussed it at length and while she worried about the changes, she agreed to go if I thought it would be best. As she said, she'd feel isolated anywhere.

Her words had stung, even though I knew they weren't meant as a comment about our relationship. She kept to herself for the most part and every day I wondered what I had done to deserve her making an exception in her otherwise solitary life. "Will you take a break?" I asked with a smile. When she focused her attention on me, I opened my arms wide. "The dust will be there when I let you go." She put down the duster and came to me shyly. As always, she was tentative, sitting on my lap carefully, and wrapping her arms around my shoulders. I buried my nose in her hair. She smelled so lovely. When she pulled away, I gathered her long hair in my hand, pushed it over her shoulder, and kissed her jaw. Her head tilted and I saw her blush. She wasn't used to affection when I first met her, and still wasn't. I enjoyed lavishing it on her, as much as she would let me. Today for my efforts, I was rewarded not only with a smile, but with her fingers running through my hair. "You're worried," she said quietly. Just like Edward, my Kate rarely spoke, because she was indoctrinated very young with the idea that no one cared what she had to say. I loved her voice. She was also incredibly intuitive when it came to reading others. I nodded in confirmation. "Alice or Edward?" she asked. "Edward," I answered, and then paused. "What's wrong with Alice?" Kate sighed and laid her head on my shoulder and my arms tightened around her. "She burned herself two nights ago." I'd heard nothing of this. "What happened?" She shook her head. "She said she didn't know." This was upsetting. We were told about some of her "accidents" at the foster home, but even the state psychologist was unsure if they were caused by self-injury. We were well-aware of her dissociative disorder, but the medication should have combated that. "Is she okay?" Kate nodded. "I'll call her doctor after lunch. I was worried about Edward, actually." She raised her head and nodded again and I rested my chin on her shoulder. "I'm having a hard time dealing with him biting his hands," I admitted. "I worry for him." Kate was not a natural nurturer. She had hundreds of tiny insecurities that piled up and led her to feel uncomfortable around other people.

I blamed the constant ridicule she had endured from her father and her disinterested mother. She told me once that she could count the number of times her mother had actually spoken to her on one hand. Despite all that, she was trying, really trying with our new children. She'd begun to spend time with each one, engaging in different activities. With Emmett, she pieced together puzzles. With Alice, she played board games, and with Edward, she had begun subtly teaching him about plants. She was wonderful at organizing and running a household. She loved to cook, sew, and even clean. Those were things she actually liked doing. She liked the routine of it all. She liked knowing that she'd done the best she could to keep her environment orderly. The kids seemed to respond to her silent passions. Emmett always helped set the table and do the laundry. Actually, there was nothing he wouldn't help with. Alice liked to help with the cooking, although given her proclivity toward injuries, we would have to rethink that. When he wasn't in his room, Edward would watch Kate, but never participate in whatever it was she was doing, though I had the feeling Kate was growing on him and wanted to help her. All rooms were checked daily and even Kate was impressed with the level of cleanliness and order he maintained. "Give him something to do with his hands." "What?" I was shaken out of my thoughts by her soft voice. "I garden and clean." I nodded slowly, realization dawning. Kate gardened and cleaned to keep busy. When her hands were busy, her mind was occupied. I loved my wife. "He's been so deprived of culture. Maybe painting?" She shrugged. "He hums." "Hmmm? What?" "He hums," she repeated. "Just one song. When he's tired." I was obviously missing her point because I couldn't see how that bit of information helped anything, and then it struck me. "Music." Kate never came right out and said things. She always seemed to lead me to the answer. I nuzzled my face in her hair. "You're brilliant." She gave me a small smile to let me know she thought I was full of shit. "I love you."

She gave me an even smaller smile, kissed me on the cheek, and then got up and went back to dusting. After calling Alice's doctor, I went out and bought the nicest-looking guitar I could find. The salesman said it was one of the best ever made and I'd be a fool not to buy it. So of course, I bought it. I probably should've gotten Edward a beginner's guitar, but in retail environments, I would invariably buy something expensive and unnecessary things. I was a salesperson's dream. The kids were home when I got back. Emmett was twirling Alice around and around in the front yard. They were only a year apart, but their contrasting physical statures made Emmett look like a much older brother to a little girl. I watched for a moment and smiled listening to their laughter. I hoped their relationship continued to thrive. Pulling the guitar from the backseat, I wished Edward was out here with them, enjoying the day and their company. I thought he'd be upstairs, locked away in his room already, but I found him in the kitchen, holding his hands out toward Kate. The peroxide was on the counter and she was just finishing the bandaging. My spirits fell. He must have had a bad day. Edward was always acutely aware of when Emmett or I was near him. His back stiffened and his hands curled, pulling the cotton bandages taut. My gorgeous wife looked at me, her eyes traveling down to the guitar case in my hand. She smiled and began cleaning up the supplies. "Edward?" I hated the way he jumped at my voice. "Y-y-y-y-yes, ssssssir?" I also hated that he called me "sir," but I had let him know it was okay if it put him at ease. While his body turned in my direction, his eyes were on anything but me. "I have something for you." His shoulders shook as his brow creased. I wanted him closer to me, but it felt awkward to asking him to come to me when I knew it would make him uncomfortable. I had to smile at Kate when she gently touched his elbow and urged him to follow her as she walked in my direction. When he was close enough, I presented the instrument to him. His reaction was not what I was hoping for. He became very tense and looked as though he might get sick. "I thought" There was something about Edward that took away all of my confidence that I could ever be an adequate parental figure. I'd hoped I could be a father to these kids one day if, like Emmett, they wanted me to, but I felt so helpless when it came to Edward. "I thought you might like to learn something new." It seemed like Edward was very close to having a panic attack, so I took a step back. "I thought that maybe music would be a good fit for you. You could be alone and you could" I felt so defunct and ill-prepared. "It could be a good way to express your" "I-i-i-i-i-i-i-it's a ssssssssssin," he said quietly. His eyes widened, as if he couldn't believe that he'd spoken what he probably considered "out-of-turn."

I took another step back, hoping to convey that I wasn't upset and to seem less threatening. "I-I-I-I-I'm ssssssssssssorry." I smiled. I wished he would have just taken it, but from his reaction, it was obvious that some idea had been beaten into him. I should've bought him a paintbrush. "It's okay." I laid the guitar on the table and stopped short of leaving the room. "We'll keep it, in case you change your mind." That guitar stayed on that kitchen table for six days. One night, after a very long shift at the hospital, I came home to find it gone. I ventured upstairs, to look for my beautiful Kate when I heard music coming from Edward's room. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought he was listening to a CD. What I was hearing was almost flawless. I felt my heart beat faster in my chest and I swelled with pride. I practically skipped to my bedroom and smiled widely at Kate. She was already in bed, a book in hand; she wore the black satin negligee I'd gotten her two weeks ago. The neckline plunged and had just the right amount of lace. She looked beautiful and my body longed to slip into bed next to her, but I needed to focus. "Do you hear that?" She gave me a small smile. "He's a natural." "Did you do that?" She shook her head, but her blush and the way her eyes shifted away from mine told me she had something, maybe everything, to do with the boy playing music in the room down the hall. God, I loved this woman. "Amazing," I whispered as I moved into the room. ~*~