Prologue

When I was eight, I lost my favorite stuffed animal. It was a cute, cuddly pink sheep. I'd gotten it when I was five, and I named it Mr. Sheep, despite the pink "wool" it had. Every time I slept, my stuffed animals would be arranged in a certain order on my bed. My stuffed dog to my left, and then my plush teddy bear next to it. On my right would be Mr. Sheep, and right above my head would be a ginormous stuffed doggy, three times the size of my five-year-old head.

I was reckless when I was in third grade, but it wasn't as if I wasn't reckless before. I actually think I managed to leave Mr. Sheep in a hotel room. I was devastated, and Rosalie, my sister, had to sit there and hug me while I cried and cuddled my second favorite stuffed animal, a dog which I named Maxwell Lin McSpotters.

Maxwell Lin McSpotters is somewhere in my attic now.

But that's not the point. The point is, now that I look back on my childhood, I find the irony quite conspicuous. My little Edward sheep.

It was senior year, and Edward, my boyfriend, and I were perfect. We held hands and talked and laughed and went to Forks High School together while Rosalie and her boyfriend were attending their first year of college at Stanford, down in California. I was so happy. Rosalie and I emailed each other weekly, and our sisterly bond remained strong and intact…

But not every relationship stays like that.

I looked down at the paper in my hands now, realizing that I hadn't given him any reaction. Focusing my eyes on the sheet, I read it once. Twice. Three times. My back was to him, thankfully, so he couldn't see the tears that had welled up in my eyes. He couldn't see the tears that fell over and slid down my cheeks, where I hastily wiped them away before he could notice. He couldn't see anything.

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat, clutching the paper tightly in my hands – so tight that my fingers left creases on the edges. I felt lightheaded and dizzy, and it suddenly seemed so difficult to breathe. His eyes were on my back, waiting, pending my reaction. I knew it was his dream. This was what he'd always wanted – he said so that one night. I couldn't take that away from him. The opportunity was right in front of him, ready for him to reach out and grab it.

A moment ago, he was happy. Blissful and delighted that he'd gotten accepted. I couldn't destroy his buoyant demeanor. I just couldn't. I was his girlfriend, and I just wouldn't do it.

I wiped away any stray tears and turned around to face him, plastering a strained smile on my face.

The handsome crooked grin he wore faded, so I tried to make my voice sound happy.

"You're going to Juilliard, Edward," I said, laughing supportively like I knew he wanted me to. My smile was weak, at least to me. I was sure he could see how forced it was, but I continued on anyway. "You're going to the most prestigious music school in the nation."

My voice choked, and I hoped that he thought the reason I was crying was out of happiness and not something depressing – though that was the truth.

He smiled again, although this one was much more reserved.

"Yeah, I am," he said, his emerald green eyes bright and radiant as he brushed his thumb against my cheek, wiping away traitor tears. His thumb was rough and calloused – years of guitar playing – but it still felt nice against my skin. My eyes fluttered shut. "I'm going to be a musician," he murmured, smiling dreamily.

I took a step closer and threw my arms around his neck, trying not to sob into his shoulder. But my tears were coming furiously, trailing down my cheek and around my jaw. How much time did we have left together? I curled my fingers around his shirt tightly, pulling him as close to me as possible and burying my face in his neck. His shirt was stained with salty tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

This moment reminded me of my last day at Central Parkway Boarding School, a rich, popular-kid boarding school in Beverly Hills, California. Rosalie and I had gone there for our later high school years, and that was where I'd met Edward.

Looking back on it now, just a year later, it seemed so strange. I thought about how we'd changed, and how we'd loved each other even more. I thought about Alice, Edward's younger sister, and wondered whether I would lose her too. I remembered this sense of loss clear and well, a reminder of my last day at the boarding school. It was back again, this time even more destructive than the last.

"Congratulations," I quietly murmured into his ear, his fingers weaving through my thick, dark locks of hair. I buried my face deeper in his neck, inhaling the familiar sweet scent of him. "I…You…" I stopped, because the lump was back in my throat. "Your dream is coming true."

He laughed softly, his chest shaking. Though it was muted, the sound was so happy, so ecstatic that I just couldn't bring him down, despite how I felt. "Thank you, Bella," Edward whispered, pulling back to wipe away my tears. He had the widest grin on his face. It was lopsided, with a corner of his lips turned upward. My favorite. "Thank you."

He leaned down to kiss me, and I kissed him back as fervently as possible. All of my emotions were in that one kiss. Love, anger, frustration, misery…

I could already feel half of myself disappearing. How much time did we have left until college? We'd lasted throughout senior year, but this wasn't just one year. This was four. And a lot can happen in four years.