Chapter One: Sweetheart Like You

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. Not one bit. I just get to play with the characters. (which I think is still a pretty big WIN :)

(p.s. Change to 1/2 view! It makes the experience so much nicer :))

For a second, sadness filled her eyes and her light-hearted laughter weakened, but the look went as soon as it had come. She looked up at me with a smile, and it was hard to tell if I hadn't just imagined it.

I always wondered why she never said anything about these…incidents. They had happened more than once. Nothing ever serious, just a slip when I'd actually believed I had reformed. I couldn't stop replaying the scene from today in my head.

She had left for a moment to get a jacket and I had been in the courtyard waiting, until Laurie or Lauren or something had come up to me. She would not stop pestering me with questions.

"Well, if you ever want to be with someone…else," she had said slyly, before she took a step forward and looked behind me. Her eyes were suddenly gleaming with malice as she purred, "You know who to call."

"I'll make sure to."

My voice dipped low, and I realized with a start just how close our faces were and the proximity between our bodies. What the hell? I didn't like her at all, and I was completely giving her the wrong impression. She smirked as she walked away, looking satisfied...

"Edward?" I had heard from behind me.

Shit. I turned around slowly, willing for her not to have seen or heard what had just happened, but of course Angela had been there, and her eyes were wide with hurt.

I was the cause of her pain. I always was the cause. And I hated it. I hated hurting Angela. Not just because she was my girlfriend, but also because she was my best friend. She knew how I hurt, and what was more rare, why I hurt. I had hurt her thoughtlessly so many times, and even armed with countless pieces of information that could destroy me, she had never done anything to hurt me back.

"I'm ready to go," was all she had said—all she would ever say about instances like this, but I could still hear the crack in her sweet voice.

We had walked to my silver Volvo in silence. And now we were here, eating lunch and making small talk, and she was smiling at me like nothing had happened.

I made the decision right then to make up for all my past digressions. I would take her to that exclusive restaurant that only the privileged few could rave about. I would take her to that silly movie she was talking about right now and I would shower her in the affection she deserved—I would make her feel loved.

"Love."

She looked surprised, and I realized I had spoken. She gave me a small smile.

"That's a pretty apt description of how I feel about you."

I wanted to tell her I felt the same, that I still felt the way I had when I first said those three significant words to her.

Angela had just come back from her job at Barnes and Noble right after I had gotten a disturbing call that brought me back to a place I didn't want to remember. She had come up to my room, and saw me with one hand in my hair, while the other was engaged in a death grip around my cell phone.

"Oh, honey, what happened? Did they call again?"

Even so many months after the fact, even if it had been by accident, I still felt so relieved that she knew everything.

"Yes, they"—my eyes narrowed, even just thinking of them—"called.

"What did they want now?" There was a little bit of annoyance in her voice that was hardly ever there.

I told her. She listened to everything I was willing to tell, knowing that asking questions could shut me down faster than anything. She looked me in the eyes to let me know she was listening and only spoke to offer suggestions when I just couldn't think of the right word. After everything was said, she came over to the bed where I was sitting and just gave me a firm, caring hug. In a voice full of the confidence most people weren't aware she possessed, she said:

"It'll be all right. I know it."

She meant it, and it so was. With her, things could be that simple. I leaned into her hug and realized I had never felt more comforted or loved.

"I love… you." I could only mumble it quietly; the words felt too foreign on my tongue.

She pulled her head back, eyes wide. "What?"

"I love you."

I said it clearer and louder this time. I could feel the truth pounding in each word. Before Angela, I had never felt that unconditional trust in anyone, not even with my family. With her, I never felt insecure; I never felt like I was unwanted—I felt like I belonged there, talking with her, sharing secrets with her, and just being held in her arms.

She put her head back on my shoulder and replied, "I love you, too," in a perfectly content voice.

We had sat there for a while on my bed in a comfortable silence and fell asleep side-by-side. In the morning, I could still feel her caring embrace.

I would not allow myself to lose that. In the words of a cheesy song, some people searched a lifetime for a moment like this, and I was not going let myself lose it. I could change. I could work harder. I could show her how much she meant to me.

And I would start by making her smile reach her eyes.

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"—DDDIEE. "

I was walking back into the fraternity after what I considered a successful lunch with Angela. By the time we were packing up to leave, she had tears in her eyes from laughter and merriment. We had made plans for the upcoming Saturday, and I felt I was back on my way to redeeming myself…

I had taken no more than three steps when I finally heard that loud bellowing voice.

"EDDDDDDDIEE—"

I was promptly tackled to the ground by an unknown, impassable force.

"What the—!" I exclaimed, looking up into the face of my attacker.

It was Emmett…of course.

"Emmett! What was that for?" I asked angrily.

"Oh, this? It's for the fight you will try to get into with me—and inevitably lose—for me calling you Eddie… Eddie," Emmett replied self-assuredly while easily resisting my attempt to wrestle my way out of his hold.

I rolled my eyes.

"You really…don't have to… yell it. I'm right…underneath you…you know." My speech was not as fluid from the effort I was exerting to get him off.

His eyes widened with some realization.

"Oh, I see," he mused while nodding his head.

"What do you… see?" I tried pushing against his torso, but still, he didn't budge.

"Eddie, it's okay; you don't need to feel embarrassed. I understand. It's natural to feel this way. Well… maybe not natural, but towards me, it's understandable." He nodded once again.

"What. Are. You. Talking. About." I tried wiggling out from the side.

"—And I'm flattered, truly flattered—" he continued as if I hadn't spoken, and I was starting to feel a little resentful. Here I was, huffing and puffing away, while he could talk irrationally about god knows what, even putting a hand to his heart, while still managing to effortlessly keep me down with the other while he finished his thought.

"—But the thing is, I'm engaged and I'm going be a married man soon, so I am kind of off-limits." He looked back down and smiled apologetically.

"What are you— I know you're—" I said, confused and exasperated, then I stopped. I finally understood what he was implying.

"Emmett. Get off. Now!" I said shortly, low and dangerous. Emmett got up and I immediately felt my body loosen up without those couple extra hundred pounds weighing me down.

Emmett, laughing, threw his hands up and said, "I'm just saying…"

"I really don't understand how Rosalie puts up with you," I said disbelievingly. A big, goofy grin stretched across Emmett's face as he thought of his fiancée.

"Me neither," he replied with a grin. As we walked toward the kitchen, he hooked his arm around my neck, capturing me in a headlock while continuing to walk with me in that fashion. There was nothing I could do about it, either. It's not that I was weak—I had my fair share of muscle—but Emmett was like a … six-foot-four tall brick wall. He wasn't gangly by any means; he was muscular in every place someone could be muscular. It was a good thing that he had a sense of fun and humor, or he would just be too intimidating. He stopped for second as he thought of something.

"Hey, when I get to married to Rosie, we'll practically be brothers,"

"Oh, joy," I replied sarcastically. "And how is it that you came with that unreasonable piece of logic?"

"Well, Jazz and Rose are brother and sister, right? And you and Jazz are basically brothers," he replied matter-of-factly, "plus Jasper's bound to marry Alice someday"—I tensed at the thought of my sweet little sister getting married—"And it's NOT unreasonable, so there!" Emmett finished, not noticing my sudden discomfort with the subject. We had reached the kitchen. James was in there talking to some guy. He saw us and started walking over.

"Eddie, my man, how you doing?" he asked.

"I'm doing fine. I would be doing better if Emmett…" I paused, glaring up from my current position of head-armpit "…would let go of this head lock. And I told you not to call me Eddie."

Emmett laughed then let go and walked to the refrigerator to make something to eat. James and I walked toward the lounge.

"As usual, the humorless one. Did you get it out already?" James asked. I rolled my eyes and ignored his first comment.

"Did I get what out?" I asked.

"That stick up your ass." He smirked, and then continued, "Dude, seriously what is up? You didn't use to be like this. We used to be really tight—remember the tally board?" He looked over at the white board, which was hung on the wall, and smiled reminiscently.

I guess what he said was true, but it was a very loose interpretation of the word "tight." Our relationship was, in a word, competitive. Or at least it used to be, before I was with Angela. Being the competitive guys we were, we made a bet to see which guy could lay the most girls in a week. Well, that week turned into a month and then months. I'd stopped making tallies after I started dating Angela, but James was still at it. Angela had actually seen it once when she was visiting me and asked what it was.

"It's a tally board," I had answered curtly.

"I can see that, but why does it have James' and your names on it? And more importantly, why are there no tallies on your part?"

I thanked god I had erased all my tallies once I started actually dating Angela. It was a stupid, thoughtless game, and I was happy to leave that part of my life behind.

"It's a…Well, me and James, we… You see, I had—" Angela looked at me expectantly as I struggled for the right words. I took in a deep breath and spit it out quickly.

"It's a tally of how many girls me and James have had I mean just had sex with because we made a bet and it was dumb."

"Aaahh, I see." She smiled, looked at it, and then looked back up at me. "It seems that you aren't getting any action."

"Hey! I'll have you know I was beating James befor—" I looked at her and realized she was joking. She had started laughing.

I was brought back to reality when James continued talking.

"This girl that's holding you down, I think you should get rid of her."

I bristled at his rude assumption.

"The girl has a name, and it's Angela. And Angela is not holding me down, nor has she ever, so I think you would do well to keep your opinions about my girlfriend to yourself!"

"Woah, dude, calm down. Breathe in and out"—he motioned with his hands as he took in a breath to show me—"in, out, in, out. Although I can think of more satisfying ways to use those to actions, hey, it's your choice."

Just then, Jasper walked in and was about to say hello, but he saw my face and James' smirk and tried to walk right back out. However, Jasper was not that lucky.

"Even Jazz here hasn't held out for that long." James pointed toward him.

I turned my death glare to Jasper.

"Is this to mean you are cheating on Alice?" I asked, my voice low and cold as steel. Now Jasper looked scared.

"No!" Jasper replied quickly, but hesitantly, as if he were nervous something worse was coming by saying this answer. I was confused.

"But how can you have not have 'held out' and also not have cheated on Alice?" I demanded. Then realization dawned; I narrowed my eyes, and Jasper braced himself.

"You had sex with Alice? Alice, my baby sister?" My voice was thick with anger and disbelief, but hopeful that this was just a misunderstanding.

"We waited till she was eighteen!" he said, and I scoffed—as if that made it all okay! Jasper hurried to explain the rest.

"I tried to hold it off as long as possible—"

"Sure you did," I said untrustingly.

"Because I was afraid of your reaction—"

"As you rightfully should have been—"

"And you know Alice, once she wants something, she will go to no ends to—"

"Are you insinuating my beautiful baby sister would want that with a—with a scumbaggy… scumbag like you?"

James burst out laughing, and I would have winced at my choice of adjectives to describe…it, but I was too mad at…. I couldn't even say his name, that, that—

"Scumbaggy Scumbag, huh? I've heard a lot of good ones come out of your mouth, but I think that one is by far the best," James interjected.

Jasper and I both glared at him, and he stopped talking but continued to laugh.

"Edward, you know I would never do anything with your sister that she had even the slightest misgiving about, since she is the best girlfriend I've ever had, and I love her; I don't want to lose her, and…and you are like a brother to me!" Jasper's voice was desperate.

I could see James in my peripheral vision rolling his eyes, but I was too focused on Jasper to care much about what he did. I was a little shocked at his admission of loving her, but what else should I have expected? Hell, he better love her…and I guess the rest of what Jasper said was true. After Jazz started going out with Alice, he started shaping up. Before Alice, like me before Angela, Jasper was a complete player, sometimes even worse than me. He did treat Alice like she was a diamond in the rough—which she was—and Alice didn't even have to break out her whip. And that is not a figure of speech—let me tell you, she actually has a whip, and that's not kinky; that's Alice for you.

"And you've lived with Alice for ten years, you know how persuasive…" for a second a strange look came across Jasper's face "…and stubborn and obstinate Alice is, and how she will not give up until she gets her way."

I sighed; he was right again about Alice's persistence. I shuddered as I remembered the months before the senior prom when she was going to be Jazz's date. How she had made me drive her to the mall, hold her bags, and tell her what I thought of all the dresses (I thought they were all too revealing). It was "The Era of Hell" as I not so fondly remembered it. I still wasn't sold on the whole "Alice wanted to do it'' story, but I would find out.

"Wait, what do you mean 'ten years'? Don't you mean eighteen?" James cut in. Jasper and I exchanged a look, on the pretense of friends for a brief moment, before Jasper covered up.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Sometimes I get ten and eighteen mixed up."

James didn't look convinced.

"Anyway, I won't beat you up, yet, but after I talk to Alice, if I find out that this was anything more than 'her idea,' know that I will gladly pluck every hair off you, pummel you to a pulp, sand down your balls, stick a thousand explosive pins and needles in them, set the needles off, and hang you from the flagpole on campus from your underwear with nothing on but your underwear!"

"This is why I love you guys," said James with mock heartfelt-ness. I shot him a glare.

"If this is your reason for hanging out with us, then you are in grave need of a life."

"Are we cool till then?" a slightly timid Jasper asked.

"No! I wouldn't want to be caught fraternizing," I spat out, "with the enemy!"

With that I stormed out of the lounge and upstairs to my room to get some peace and quiet.

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After thinking for a while, I realized I wasn't really mad Jasper. I could hardly blame him for not being able to resist my sister. The only thing capable of doing that was most likely a blind, deaf, mute stone. And if I had to choose someone to deflower—I cringed at the word—my sister, then I really couldn't think of a better guy. He was the only guy I had ever known to be able to handle Alice—to a certain extent. That, in itself, was pretty amazing. He was also the only person, outside of Angela and my close family, to know that I was adopted. That was the reason we even met, even if he didn't know it at the time.

When Carlisle and Esme adopted me when I was eight, all I wanted to do was attend the regular public school that was in our district like any other kid on the block. I had started all over there not knowing anybody—which was entirely fine by me—in a first and second-grade mixed class.

I soon realized, though, I didn't know how to act around all these happy, care-free children. True, we were all around the same age in years, and yet I felt so distant from them, isolated—as if my past refused to relinquish its hold over my newfound freedom.

It was in my second quarter of being at a public that Jasper asked if I wanted to sit with him at lunch. We had just gotten new seating assignments, and he was my new row partner; I conceded because I had been so shocked. It wasn't the first time anyone had asked, but it was the first time it didn't feel like a trick. He was just barely more than a kindergartener, and yet something in his… air seemed unrushed, slow to cast judgment, and not yet ready to categorize me solely as the unhappy, un-cooperative, new boy. His invitation did not in the least resemble the previous ploys by too many other curious peers to learn about my unrelentingly past.

True to his word, we just sat and ate. And let me assure you, between my stony silence and his cool, unrushed air, we had many, many intriguing and intellectual conversation with each other.

But we were becoming friends. That was one of the many firsts I had experienced in this new life under Carlisle and Esme's wings. They were the best parents anyone could ever ask for. Kind, caring and loyal, they always listened to both sides of the story, especially when it came to and sibling quarrels.

Alice.

I couldn't avoid calling her forever. I sighed and turned on my side on the bed to reach over to my nightstand to get my cell phone. I dialed the number, and with a deep breath, pressed, "Talk."

After two rings, a high-pitched, musical voice answered the phone.

"Hi, Eddie!" the voice said, then giggled.

"Hello, Alice. Excited much? And I thought I told you not to call me Eddie."

"Well, you didn't," she lied blatantly, "And of COURSE I'm excited! I'm going to be with my big brother, and Jazzie!"

I smiled, happy that she was excited to see me, but then frowned as I recalled whom else she was excited to see.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure, Edward? It's not like you call that often, without a reason."

"What? I can't call my own sister, with no reason other than to hear her lovely voice?" I asked innocently.

"Haha, nice try, but it's not going to work. Something is bothering you, and plus you always complain about my voice on the phone, since you can't see my expressions to help tip you off when it will be a notch louder than usual."

"When you get excited, the volume of your voice is a great deal higher and earsplitting than a 'notch louder than usual,'" I retorted, then continued sincerely, "…And you have a beautiful voice, when it isn't attempting to shatter my eardrums."

"Okay, yeah, whatever you say. Stop trying to avoid the subject!"

I sighed. I really didn't want to have this discussion with her. Having a conversation on the specifics of her bedroom (dear lord, I hoped it's just in her bedroom)activity was probably the epitome of awkwardness, if not for her, then for me.

"It's actually about Jasper," I finally replied.

"Oh, he told you," she said casually.

"Yes. I am calling to see if it is valid," I stated as formally as I could.

"What do you want to know is true?" she asked. I exhaled sharply. Was she going to make me spell it out?

"'You still there? We're talking 'bout sex, right?" she asked.

"Yes," I said sharply.

"Yes, you're still here, or yes to it being about sex?" she tried again.

"To both, and could you please stop saying that word?" It was truly disconcerting hearing my beautiful baby sister use that, that word, so casually.

"What, sex?"

I huffed in annoyance. There she went again!

"Alice!"

"Okay, okay, sorry." She laughed. "So back to the main question, what did you want to know was true? Was it true about how entirely amazing it was? Did I get to use that whip that I only break out on special occasions? If it was utterly and completely more mind-blowing than I could have ever imagined? Or if was true how we went at it for—"

"ALICE! No!" I nearly shouted. Great. Just great. Now in my head, I had my baby sister and my best friend going at it, in a very detailed visual. Nothing I ever wanted to see, think, or hear of again.

I began slowly, measuring my voice, "All I want to know is, when Jasper said it was all your idea, the…sex—and not just a bluff that was preventing me from pounding his face in—if that was true."

"Oh, that? Yeah, it's true. I practically had to get naked, and act rejected, for him to even consider it." She stopped for a minute, considering something. "In fact, I can't imagine why it was so difficult to convince him, especially when he is usually so good at giving me what I want!"

"Alice! I have your best interests at heart, and he was probably thinking of his best chance in staying alive."

"Well, the whole time he was proper gentleman, so much that it was tedious the way he'd ask me, 'Is it okay to do this?' or 'Would you mind if…'"—she gasped—"You probably got into a big fight with him too, didn't you?"

I stayed silent.

"Well, that's just great! I bet he feels really bad, and now he's going to be even more careful about everything than before, if that's even possible! You listen here, Mister!" she ordered. "You are going to find my Jazzie, and you are going to apologize! You are going to get on the ground and you will say 'Jasper, I've been a terrible, quick-tempered, jumping-to-conclusions, horribly atrocious boy,'—and yes you will say boy—'who does not deserve the glorious privilege of being your friend. Will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?'"

"Do I really have to?" I asked, whining.

"Yes! You have to, and you have to say exactly that! Don't even think to try getting around it 'cause I will have Jasper call me to let me know what you said."

"Fine," I said sullenly.

"Do NOT 'fine' me! Get a pen and a piece of paper and write down what you have to say! Ready?" she demanded.

"Yes," I said sullenly.

"Jasper, I've been a terrible, quick-tempered, jumping-to-conclusions, horribly atrocious boy." She paused, waiting for me to write it down, while breathing heavily.

"Who does not deserve the glorious privilege of being your friend. Will you ever find it in your heart to forgive me?"

I wrote it all down resentfully.

"Got it all?" She didn't wait for me to answer. "You WILL go and apologize, and you WILL do it RIGHT NOW! Am I understood?" she ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered against my will.

"I'll be waiting for that call from Jasper!" she said in a slightly threatening tone, and hung up.

I was seconds from petulantly throwing my phone across the room. I would have laughed at my situation, if I weren't so apprehensive that something bad would happen if I didn't do it. For someone so short and sweet, Alice sure knew how to frighten someone.

Well, it wasn't going to get done unless I actually did it. And Alice was waiting. That was motivation enough. I swung my legs off the bed, gripped the piece of paper in my hand walked to the door and opened it, and went to search for Jasper.

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Sometimes I thought Angela was lucky to live alone in that little house. I was walking that way, to see her now. A shared living space could amount to too much drama for one day. Emmett, James, Jasper, Alice, Jasper…

I remembered when she had started looking for separate housing, since she had had enough with school assigned roommates. From the first week of summer, she had been searching high and low, far and wide, for just the right type of living. All that entailed, really, was affordability and proximity to campus.

As it happened, the gods seems to smile upon her, as they usually did, and she found a small two-bedroom cottage of a rich, retired old lady. Angela had fallen in love with the cute coziness of the place, and the little old lady was charmed by her. When she asked how much the monthly rent was, certain this was where the catch would be, the lady answered, much to her surprise, "Whatever you are comfortable paying, honey."

Angela, being Angela, chose a price she could just barely afford on her paycheck.

I had asked her later why she hadn't chosen a lower price.

"I couldn't cheat her out of her money."

"But she's already rich and retired," I protested.

"She is offering me the full accommodations of a two bedroom house, for the price of a one. I couldn't go any lower than I could possibly afford," she explained.

I told her she was too kind. And she simply kissed me.

By this time I had arrived at her cozy home. I opened the gate and observed the white picket fence surrounding the yard, walked up toward to pale blue cottage and hopped up the steps of the front porch.

When I came inside, she asked me how the rest of my day had been.

I only slightly modified what had happened with Jasper, so I wouldn't have to repeat to her what James said and about the tally board. She laughed at everything, but thought my phone call with Alice was especially funny.

"The little pixie always has something on me…" she smiled and shook her head "…and I'm supposed to be the older one. Well, I knew she was never as innocent as she can seems."

"What! You knew about Alice and Jasper!" I exclaimed, shocked that she would keep something like that from me.

"Well, she is pretty much my only close friend... Edward, don't look at me like that—she told me not to tell you. It's probably because you are the only one who still views her as a darling, pure, innocent child."

"But she is still a child!"

"No, she's actually an adult by law, Edward."

"Well, she will always and eternally be my sweet baby sister!" I stated with an air of finality, before continuing more softly, "And you know, she doesn't have to have that particular something on you."

"I know, I know, I'm just not ready, Edward, and that's that," she replied, just as softly, but firmly.

I frowned.

Then, the timer went off. Angela smiled.

…

She had fallen asleep sometime after her third piece of pizza, so I decided to bring her to bed. Scooping her up in my arms, I brought her to her room and gently set her on the bed. Not gently enough, though, since she stirred, and opened her eyes for a moment.

"Hey, hey…you…where are you going?" she asked sleepily as she patted the space next to her on the bed. I thought it was kind of cute that she was so drowsy that she couldn't remember my name.

"I'm going to go throw away the plates. I'll be right back," I said softly.

"Why are you throwing away plates...?" she asked confusedly, then mumbled, "…save the trees..." I smiled at the sweet activist in her.

I walked back to the living room, picked up our paper plates and cup, and brought them to the kitchen.

Once I was done there, I walked back to Angela's room and opened a drawer in her dresser. I took the pajama bottoms she had stored for me, and went to the bathroom to change. I crawled in behind her and put my arm around her waist. You would think that from my womanizing days, I would either be taking advantage of her, or at least wanting to, but I didn't feel that way at all.

Somehow, it was just comfortable and relaxing this way. I was happy with just being with her. I did wonder, sometimes, why she didn't want to go further, though. We had never gotten past wandering hands, and that was only during a rare session of intense kissing, before she pulled away and said, "Sorry, I'm not ready," and then brought it back to a more innocent kiss. But somewhere between all this wondering, I fell asleep too.