Hello lovely readers! So this was my first entry to the Straight Thru the Heart Fics Contest. This one didn't place, but I'm happy to say my other story, Beauty and a Heartbeat, won Matchmaker Award! Whoooo! *cue internal happy prancing* Anyway, this story can be seen as a what-if to chapter 11 of Endgame, which was when Edward debated on calling Bella to talk to her at the hotel balcony during their CTSO conference. What would have happened if Bella and Edward did meet at the balcony and they had the talk? Scintilla was meant to explore that what-if, but as a separate story altogether.

Speaking of the CTSO conference, this is basically the setting of this entire fic. I was inspired by The Afters "Falling into Place." I may post an EPOV of Scintilla, but that's entirely up to you. Enjoy!

Side note: HOSA = Health Occupations Students of America, CTSO = Career Technology Student Organization

I was on the edge of a distant world

A shattered life with nowhere left to turn to

Till I saw you there

And everything I thought had gone to waste

Is falling into place

~ Falling into Place (The Afters)

The night is still. My eyes are closed, though I can't seem to fall asleep. I should be. It has been a grueling day and my brain is exhausted. I'm tired. I need some rest. I have to wake up in about seven hours to get ready for the HOSA competition's award ceremony. I'd be dozing off if I don't get at least six hours of sleep.

I groan, opening my eyes. I can't sleep. I angle my head so I can look at the bedside clock. 12:35 A.M. Late, but not too late. I'll be fine as long as I go to sleep by around 1:35.

Having my own hotel room this year is amazing. Every year, CTSO conferences insist on competitors to share hotel rooms with their club members. Last year, for my first HOSA conference during my high school junior year, I shared a room with Angela, Emily, and Jane. Competitors are also banned from exiting their rooms after midnight. This year, the rules changed. Every competitor has their own room, making the cost to attend the conference more expensive altogether. Plus, competitors are allowed to go to other people's rooms at nighttime, just as long as the rooms are on the same floor. A higher cost to attend the conference is worth following these new lenient rules. Not only do I get my own room, but since my close friend Angela is a couple of rooms away, I can visit her. But she's asleep now and I don't want to wake her up.

Next to the clock, I grab my purple iPod Nano and black earphones. I plug the earphones in the iPod and, getting up from the bed, shove the two items into the back pocket of my pajama bottoms. Maybe some fresh air will do me some good. Despite the cool air provided from the room's air conditioner, maybe going outside will help.

I slip my feet into my black bunny fuzzy slippers and walk the few feet to the glass doorway leading to the room's balcony. I slide the glass door open, slightly shivering at the sudden rush of the chilly February night air. Closing the door behind me, I take a few steps forward until I reach the railing.

I sigh, resting my arms on the top of the steel railing. This is nice. The air is nice. The scenery in front of me is nice. It's not every day I see how the city looks like at night from several feet up high. I rarely take notice of all the lights illuminating the entire city. Many take for granted of the simple beauty that exists if one looks hard enough.

"Bella?" I hear a familiar voice say.

I turn my head. To my left, I see Edward Cullen standing at the balcony of his hotel room. Oh right. I forgot that our rooms are next to each other. My room is located at the end of the floor's hall. I have no idea how I didn't notice him when I came out. He's wearing a green Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles t-shirt, navy blue pajama bottoms, and simple blue slippers. His bronze hair is a tousled mess on his head. No matter how many times he tries to fix his hair, it still winds up being a mess. But messy hair suits him. It makes him look more of the adorable nerd he is.

"Hi." I withhold the blush threatening to rise on my cheeks. For the last couple of months, I may have developed a tiny crush on Edward. He doesn't know that, and I plan to keep it that way. My crush is most likely a phase. I'll probably get over it by the end of the school year. There are three months left until graduation. Three months left until we go our separate ways. I can go three more months until we say goodbye and move on with our lives. I can discard these feelings and wait until I meet Mr. Right.

"Can't sleep?" he asks. He moves until his arms rests on the railing to my immediate left. I copy his movement until we're facing each other.

I nod. "Thought I'd come outside and see if the cold will make me fall asleep."

"Isn't your room cold?"

"It's not enough."

"Ah." He gives me a small smile. "It's beautiful, isn't it? I can't get enough of the view from up here."

"Same here. It's picture-perfect. So how long were you standing there?"

"A few minutes. I was gathering my thoughts."

"What did you think about?"

"Yesterday. What'll happen today. I wonder if I'll place."

"You never know. Placing first, second, or third is a dream for everyone. Being first doesn't matter. Place in the top three, you go to states no matter what. You studied hard, didn't you?"

"Of course." He points to his head. "I didn't pull Saturday all-nighters for nothing."

"Med math was made for you."

"And med terms was made for you."

"I guess so." I trail my pointer finger along the surface of the railing. "Is that all you thought about?"

He shakes his head. "I thought about other things."

"Like?"

"School. Life."

"Define life."

"How I'm living. If I'm living the right way and living in all the moments."

"Hmmm… you're living in a moment right now."

"I guess I am."

We stare at each other in thoughtful silence for a minute. I like being around Edward. He makes me feel calm and collected. I worry less when he's with me. Even though we're not the closest of friends, I sometimes feel as if I've known him for years. For the two years I've known him, he has grown into a wonderful person. Academically, we're on the same level. My nerdy jokes don't faze him. He's my ideal crush.

But what about Emmett?

I bite the inside of my cheek. Now is not the right time to think about Emmett. I came to the CTSO conference to be away from reality. Reality involves Emmett. I'm not ready to return to that reality yet.

Edward breaks the silence. "Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"Getting sleepy yet?"

"Not really." I let out a sigh. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you know what the red string of fate is?"

He gazes at me with a confused expression. "Never heard of it."

"It's a Chinese/Japanese thing."

"What is it?"

"Well… according to Asian mythology, it's an invisible red string tied around the finger of two people destined to meet together. The string can stretch, tangle, be messed up in any way, but it can never be broken. It's the equivalence to soulmates."

"So it's like meant to be."

"Exactly."

"Why did you mention that?"

I shrug. "You mentioned how you thought about life and I thought about that. Love is a big part of life. While people wonder who their meant to be is, I think about who's on the other end of my red string."

He grins. "You never know. Maybe you've already met that person."

"Maybe. Or maybe's he's still a stranger I'm waiting to meet." I look away from him and gaze wistfully at the night sky. "That myth makes me believe love exists for everyone. Especially for single, hopeless romantics like me."

"You're not hopeless. And you won't be single forever." I look back down and see him extend an arm across the railing. "Hold my hand."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Curious, I do what he says. He squeezes my hand. The warmth of his skin puts me at ease. "I wish we didn't have our balconies separating us."

"I agree."

"You'll find someone. Out of the millions of people in this world, your meant to be is out there somewhere, waiting to meet you."

"Ditto."

"That's all you got?"

I laugh. "Fine. I believe that someone is on the end of your red string. Whoever she is, she'll be a lucky girl. It's strange though. Sometimes I feel like everyone but me knows who's on the end of my red string, but they just don't tell me."

"What makes you think that?"

"I dunno. No matter how much I believe in the idea of being destined to be with someone, I'm scared I may never get to meet that person. What if I live the rest of my life with a guy that's not my meant to be? Does that mean I don't get to meet my meant to be until the afterlife? It's crazy."

"Hey. Don't think that way." His eyes soften. "It wouldn't be destiny if the two people will never meet each other. Destiny equals true love." He squeezes my hand again. "Can I tell you something?"

"Anything. The night is still young."

"What if the person on the end of your red string is someone you did know? Someone that you're close to?"

"I'd be happy." My thumb strokes his knuckles. "There'd be no more intros to suffer through."

"But… what if that person is someone right in front of you?

My heart skips a beat. Memories of Emmett rush through my head. Edward's words are describing exactly what Emmett means to me. I gulp. I don't want to remember the past right now.

"What are you saying, Edward? Are you saying you've found your meant to be?"

"Yes." His hand grip mine tighter. "It's you."

Butterflies flutter around in my stomach. He isn't saying what I think he's saying, is he?

"Isabella Swan, I'm in love with you."

He is.

"It's hard not to have feelings for you. I mean, look at you. You're an amazing girl. You understand me and the world better than anyone else I know. You see things the opposite of what others think. You're shy, but once you open up, you become this cool, random girl I can't get enough of. I wonder why no boy has swept you off your feet yet."

There was. That blew up in my face.

"I-I-" I stutter out.

"It's okay, Bella. I don't expect you to return my feelings. I've been keeping this a secret for so long. I'm tired of treating you as a friend. I want more than that. When I saw you appear at your balcony, I knew that tonight had to be the night to tell you. I don't know if we'll ever have a moment like this to make my confession. I didn't want to waste more time."

Reluctantly, I pull my hand away from him. "Edward, I… I'm overwhelmed. I had no idea you felt that way." I take a small step back. "How long have you had feelings for me?"

"Since October." He looks at me sheepishly. "Remember the debate we did for English?"

"How can I forget?" He was my partner for that debate project back in English. It was the first time we worked together in anything. We were great teammates, taking down our opponents down until we were the last four teams standing and got defeated by Alec and Felix.

"Since then."

Three months. Edward Cullen has been in love with me for over three months. How did I not see it?

You love Emmett, that's why.

No. I made up with Emmett. He wants me to move on. I'm trying, but how can I move on from the guy who stole my heart? How can I fall in love with someone else when my heart is still attached to the one that betrayed me, who broke his promise?

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I don't know what to say. I need time to think."

He does a stiff nod. "You need space, don't you?"

"Yeah. I just…"

"I get it." His eyes look at me with vulnerability. "I sprung that at you all at once. I meant it though. I do love you. I've never had intense feelings like that for anyone but you. So take all the time you need."

"Thank you." I pull out my iPod and glance at the time. 12:59. Huh. We haven't been out too long. "It's getting late."

"I know." He backs away from the side of the balcony. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay."

He smiles. "Good night, Bella."

"Good night, Edward."

~:~

I'm regretting what I said.

I lay on my bed, music playing through my ears from my iPod. My conversation with Edward has made me more restless. I can't stop thinking about his confession. What would have happened if I didn't go to the balcony? Would he still have confessed his love for me? Would my reaction from earlier be the same if the confession came at a later time?

We were alone. The timing was perfect. I too would have done the same. Being alone watching city lights with stars illuminating the night sky equals a romantic moment I've always wanted to experience. I got it… with a boy that isn't Emmett.

I couldn't tell Edward that I have a crush on him. What would be the point? How I feel for him is insignificant to how he feels for me. He's head over heels for me. My feelings for him have just begun. It wouldn't be fair. So why do I feel uncomfortable and guilty?

"I need time to think." Those were the exact words I told Emmett when he told me loved me. At the time, I didn't know if I developed romantic feelings for him, so I asked for time to think about my feelings. Time morphed into weeks. By the time I realized I was in love with Emmett, I was too late. I took too much time to think and I lost him.

I pause the music on my iPod. I might make the same mistake. What if I take too much time to think about my feelings for Edward? What if he gets tired of waiting and moves on, just like Emmett did? I can't lose Edward. I can't lose another friend. I can't lose another person important to me.

I let out a shaky breath. I won't repeat the past. I won't take Edward's love for me for granted. He deserves to know the truth. My mind won't be at peace until he knows what kind of girl he has fallen for.

Pulling out the earbuds of my earphones, I reach for my Samsung Galaxy S4 phone on the bedside drawer. I unplug the charger and, with nerves rattling inside me, send a quick text to Edward. Thank god I got his number when we were debate partners.

B: Are you asleep yet?

1:10. He could be asleep. If he is, this conversation could wait until after the awards ceremony.

A minute later, my phone vibrates. He texted back.

E: Wide awake.

I sigh in relief. I can do this. Tonight is a blessing. Having our rooms side-by-side is an advantage. We can talk about the things we can never speak about around our classmates.

B: Can we talk?

His response comes quicker than the last. You have an answer already?

B: Yes. No. Can you come to my room?

E: I'll be there in a minute.

I throw my phone to the side. This is it. Time to find out how deep his feelings are for me.

By the time I plug my phone back to its charger, I hear a knock at the door. I bolt out the bed and practically rush to the door. Quietly, I open the door. Edward is there, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the card that acts as the key for his room.

"Hey," I murmur.

"Hey." I open the door wider, motioning for him to step inside. He does so and I close the door behind him.

He takes off his slippers, puts his card key on the drawer, and situates himself on the bed, sitting cross-legged. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Us." I head back to the bed and mirror his position, facing him. "When you first met me, what did you think of me?"

He stares up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "I don't remember. I remember seeing you a handful of times when we were sophomores, and I thought you looked cool. If I wasn't so shy, I would've talked to you. When we were classmates in geography for junior year, I was curious. You barely spoke unless you had to. I heard you were an easy person to talk to, but you're hard to open up."

"True, though I'm like that only around strangers or people I don't really know. When I'm around my friends, I talk more. I can even be a little crazy at times."

He chuckles. "I see that sometimes." He fidgets with the hem of his shirt. "Why did you ask that?"

"Because-" I scoot closer until our legs are brushing against each other, "I want you to hear a story."

"Real or fake?"

"Real."

"Is it long?"

"Kind of." My history of Emmett is timeless. I hope explaining what Emmett is to me won't take too long.

"I want to hear it."

"Are you sure? It's late. You don't have to."

"I want to." One of his hands touches my thighs in an assuring gesture. "It sounds like your story is important."

"It is." I take a deep breath. "Red strings are a big deal for me, and for a long time, I believed it was someone else on the other end of mine.

In sixth grade, I met a boy name Emmett McCarthy. He was my classmate in science, math, and history class. As an 11-year-old, I wasn't the most attractive adolescent around. I was chubby, wore glasses, and felt pretty awkward around my peers. Emmett took advantage of my outward appearance and always teased me. He expected me to be the typical geek and never talk back. What he didn't know was that despite my appearance, I had a backbone. I didn't just absorb his verbal blows. When he insulted me, I insulted him back. I argued with him so much that our teachers knew better than to put us in teams for any group assignments or projects. It was a relief. I couldn't stand the thought of working with an idiot. It didn't help that he was an idiot with good looks. His good looks got him numerous dates throughout the school year.

Things got a little better by seventh grade. We still argued, though our arguments led to some conversations about our common interests. We both loved video games and appreciated rock music. One day, he hung out with my friends and I and brought his guitar to school. I didn't know he was a musician. He thought of himself as an amateur, but the moment he played for us the chorus to a song of one of my favorite bands today, my perspective of him changed completely. No longer did I think of him as an idiot. He was a good-looking, talented idiot. Since that day, we fought less. Instead of thinking of him as an enemy, I viewed him as a rival. If he could excel in music, I had to keep my game up and excel in academics.

Somehow, in eighth grade, for whatever reason, he began to take school seriously. He did his homework and scored high on tests. His low grades got higher to the point that he got a 4.0 GPA for the first semester. I was proud of him. Sure, he was my rival, but I was happy he cared about using his brain for more than music and dating. He was getting smarter, and that motivated me. I had to be better. I couldn't let him beat me.

Then there was the summer before we started high school. He met a girl at a beach named Marie that looked a lot like me. But her looks didn't match my personality. She was the opposite of that. I won't lie, she was a bitch. His friends and my friends thought so too. Yet, he didn't see that. He dated her for the entire summer and didn't listen to his friends' warnings. He was so smitten by her that he thought he was in love with her. I was appalled. How could he love a girl that we hated? They barely had anything in common. Once, he even wrote a song for her, and she told him never to do it again. She thought being serenaded was embarrassing and old-fashioned. Which, I may point out, is BS. Emmett McCarthy never serenaded a girl till Marie came along. To react harshly like that should have been a clear indication they weren't meant to be. She was the one that broke it off the week before summer break ended, and luckily, he hadn't told he loved her yet. I was relieved. He was heartbroken, but I knew he was saving himself from more heartbreak had he did tell her he loved her. He was in a funk for several weeks, and it was through me acting like Marie that he snapped back to reality. He couldn't handle seeing me being someone I'm not.

Things between Emmett and I got better in ninth grade. I saw him more as a friend than a rival. He hung around my friends and I more. Though we didn't share any classes together, there were times when we hung out with just the two of us. He'd text me during lunch and ask me to meet him at one of the benches under the trees of the school's front lawn. Those were the days when he brought his guitar and we'd sing along to some of our favorite songs. Slowly, our rivalry faded until we accepted calling one another a friend.

Everything changed in tenth grade. That was the year when feelings were involved. He was the one who fell for me first. I couldn't tell at first, but I could tell he was treating me differently. He'd do a lot of sweet gestures for me. Like Marie, he wrote me a song for my 15th birthday, describing how we were in middle school. He'd bring home lunch sometimes big enough for us to share so I didn't have to buy food at the cafeteria. He'd make me personalized iTunes playlists for songs he'd want me to listen to. Dense as I was, I believed he was doing those things as a friend, probably to make up for the lost years that we weren't friends. It wasn't until winter break that I began to suspect if his sweet gestures weren't just because of our friendship. He had given me a Christmas gift of a journal with another song about me written inside. Unlike the first song, the second song seemed romantic, as if he was confessing his feelings for me. But I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to jump to the wrong conclusions. Even if he did see me as more of a friend, I wouldn't have felt the same way."

I pause, taking a moment to catch my breath. Edward is still silent, attentive, waiting for me to continue. I've never told this story to anyone. My friends lived through my story. Edward is the first person to learn this as a person outside my main group of friends.

"On Valentine's Day, I got a rose and a mason jar filled with candy. You know, one of those special Valentine gifts from student council where you can send gifts to friends and a student council member delivers it to you on Valentine's Day. When I got the gift, the card was signed by an anonymous person, though I already knew who it was from. On the card were lyrics to our favorite song by The Fray. It was a song that only a true fan of the band would know. After school, I went to ask him about the gift. He confirmed my suspicions. He had feelings for me. But he didn't just like me. He loved me." My breath hitches. This is the part of the story that is hard for me to talk about.

"And…?" Edward says in a gentle voice.

You have to let him know. "He loved me since eighth grade. He developed a crush on me then, but his feelings turned to real love while he dated Marie. He dated her to distract himself for his growing feelings for me. When he thought he loved her, it was only because he wanted to believe Marie was like me. He was relieved when they broke up. His broken heart stemmed more from the fact that he lost a chance to be with someone relatively close to me.

I didn't know how I felt about him. All I knew was that he was a good friend. The thought of dating him scared me. Knowing his past with girls, I didn't want to end up being on that list. I didn't want to lose the friendship we had. We had something unlike what I have with my own friends. So I asked for time. I couldn't make a decision right away. He gave me that, promising to wait until I made a choice. However, deep down, it was my way to avoid rejecting him. I could be the one to truly break him if he was rejected by someone that meant a lot to him.

Since his confession, things were weird between us. He rarely asked for us to hang out alone. When he did, it didn't feel the same as it used to be. There was tension that wasn't there before his confession. Our teasing banter didn't feel as lighthearted. As weeks progressed, he never tried to ask me about my feelings. I wished he did. Maybe if I rejected him, we could've stayed as friends.

On his 16th birthday toward the end of March, he held a small party for his friends. Of course, I was there, as well as a girl named Victoria, a friend of his cousin. He seemed to hit it off with her, and for some reason, I felt jealous. There was something about the way that he smiled at her that made me feel uneasy. I was used to him dating other girls. But ever since he told me he loved me, he stopped dating. That made it clear to me that his feelings for me were serious and he was willing to wait for me. Seeing him with Victoria stirred emotions that I've never felt for a boy before. When I left his party that night, I realized I was in love with him too.

I was eager to tell him how I felt, though I waited to make my confession. I didn't want to catch him off guard and make him think I was desperate. I planned to tell him on Monday, where I could ask him to meet me at the bench during lunch. I was ready. If I was gonna have a boyfriend, what better boy could it be than Emmett?"

I glance at the clock. 1:38. Wow. It's late. But time doesn't matter anymore. I don't care about the amount of sleep I'll get.

"So… what happened? Did you get to tell Emmett how you felt?" Edward asks.

"Yeah… in a way that made me think the world was cruel to me. On Monday, as soon as I got to school, I saw Emmett and Victoria making out next to his car. I felt as if a truck ran over my chest and I was dying a million deaths. He had promised me he'd wait. If he really loved me, he wouldn't look at any girl the way he'd look at me. I should have known Emmett's love for me didn't mean a thing. He wasn't in love with me. Maybe those were his hormones talking on Valentine's Day. His love was superficial. Once another pretty girl caught his eye, I meant nothing.

I still asked Emmett to meet with me during lunch. He came alone, and the first thing I did was slap his face. I accused him for leading me on. I cried and told him I loved him too. He got mad and told me he couldn't wait for me forever. He was a boy. He was in high school and he couldn't be tied down to one girl. He assumed that I didn't feel the same way toward him. Being with Victoria was his way of moving on. He told me it was my fault for falling in love too late. At that moment, the hate I used to feel for him returned, increased tenfold. I blamed myself for falling for a boy I should have known would be capable of breaking my heart. My friends were right. I shouldn't have fallen for the playboy, even if the playboy was a good friend.

Needless to say, when lunch ended, so was the end of our friendship. We grew apart. We avoided each other. He continued to date Victoria, a relationship that turned out to last for only a month. I talked to his friends every now and then, but slowly, he drifted out of my life, until he was out for good. We were no longer friends. Eventually, about a year and a half later, we made up, but that's a different story. Long story short, I sent him a message on Facebook in an attempt to fix our friendship. He responded back and told me I'll always be a part of his life. He apologized for breaking my heart and saying those hurtful words. He'd be my friend, though that's all I could ever be to him. He was no longer in love with me. But I accepted it. It's hard, though all I want is for him to be happy. We're different people now. Our lives can't mold to fit what we used to have." I bite my lip. "And that, Edward, is my story with the first time I fell in love, had my heart shattered into pieces, and the reason why I asked you to come here. I want you to know more about the girl you fell in love with, and this story is my way of doing so."

Throughout my entire speech, Edward's hand is still on my thigh. In some way, his touch helped me tell my story. I gauge his face, wondering what he's thinking.

"Wow," he finally says a minute or two later. "I… wow. I don't know what to say."

"That's to be expected." I watch his hand draw away from my thigh and onto his lap. "There's one more thing I'd like to tell you."

"What is it?"

"I like you."

He gapes. "What?"

"I like you. How can I not? You're cute, smart, and adorable. In some ways, you're like Emmett. In other ways, you're not. I've had a crush on you for a while. When you told that you were in love with me, my fears came rushing back to me. With everything that happened to Emmett, I was terrified about the possibility of the past repeating itself. I panicked and asked for time to think. Then I came back to my room and realized that by asking for time to think, I could be losing a chance to be with someone I really care about."

"Bella, I-" Edward starts to say, but I don't stop speaking.

"Like is different than love. My feelings are inferior to yours. I couldn't string you along if my crush couldn't turn into genuine love. I couldn't exactly reject you. That would be a lie. But I couldn't also tell you I love you too. I'm not there yet. I-"

"Bella!" Out of the blue, his arms lunge forward, his hands cupping my cheeks, cutting off my rambling. My throat goes dry. Our faces are mere centimeters apart. I gaze at his eyes, melting under the scrutiny of his emerald orbs.

He leans forward, his lips inching closer to my lips. I gasp. He's going to do it. He's going to kiss me.

I don't stop him. I want him to kiss me. I want to be kissed by the bronze-haired, green-eyed boy who makes me feel worthy of being loved. Who I can, at this moment, envision being in love with too.

He hesitates, taking his hands away, pulling back. No! my mind screams in frustration. There was nothing around us that could cockblock that moment! How could he leave me hanging?

"Why did you do that?" I ask. "Why did you stop?" is what I want to really say.

"I wanted you to stop talking."

"You couldn't think of a better way?"

"I wish."

"Were you really going to kiss me?"

He nods.

"Why didn't you?"

"You weren't ready."

"Wh- Of course I was!"

"No you weren't. I saw your eyes. Your mind says yes, but your heart says no." He lifts one of his hands and places it back on the side of my face. His thumb strokes my cheek. "I'm glad you told me your story. There's a lot about you I still don't know about. Now I know why you looked scared when I told you I'm in love with you. Emmett did that to you."

"Do you hate me?" I ask. I feel exposed and vulnerable, more so than when Emmett confessed his feelings. But this time, I know what I'm doing. I know that fleeing from the situation has more consequences than facing it head-on.

"Hate you? Why?"

"Look at me, Edward. How could you be in love with a girl that loves someone else, but has a crush on you anyway? I'm a horrible person. At least Emmett goes after one girl at a time. I'm having feelings for two completely different people."

"You're not horrible. And I don't hate you." His unoccupied hand grabs one of my hands. "You're courageous for telling me about Emmett. It makes me love you even more. I'd never be brave enough to share my first heartbreak, if I had one."

I smile, holding back tears. Tonight, I won't cry. I shed thousands of tears for Emmett. I won't shed a tear for Edward.

"I want to fall in love with you," I tell him softly. "I wish Emmett didn't wreck my trust for boys."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yes." I look at him with shame. "I haven't let him go one hundred percent."

"But you like me."

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll wait." The hand on my cheek joins our clasped hands. "I won't be like Emmett. All girls won't ever be like you. I believe we don't have separate red strings. There's only one. It connects the both of us. If we're meant to be, I'll wait for you until you can sort out your feelings. I'll be here for you." He raises our hands and brushes his lips on my knuckles. My face goes red. I'm in awe by the sweet gesture. "I'll wait until you're ready to kiss me. Just because we're alone doesn't mean we have to kiss. Life isn't always a movie."

I chuckle. "We're on the same page. Why people want to have movie moments are delusional. Life is much better than the movies."

He grins. "Life is beautiful. It's up to us how we live it."

"Are you throwing cheesy lines now?"

"What? Aren't dorks all about the cheesiness?"

"I guess so."

We laugh, our positive moods easing the serious tension. I'm happy. Emmett is the past. Edward is the future. Rather than be attached to the past, Edward is giving me a reason to move forward, one day at a time. Someday, whether it's in days, weeks, or months, I'll love him the way he loves me.

I look at the clock. 1:58. "It's getting late."

"I know. We should go to sleep."

"Yeah." He lets go of my hands, uncrossing his legs and moving off the bed. Card key held in his hand, I follow him to the door.

"Thank you," I say, snaking my arms around his waist, my head on his chest. "Thank you for understanding. A typical guy would run for the hills with my story."

"Well, I'm not the typical guy." He kisses my hair. "What are we, then?"

"More than friends."

"We're not dating."

"But we're not friends. So we can do what we're doing."

"Hug?"

"And kiss. Just not on the lips. Hold hands too."

"Does that mean I'm courting you?"

I giggle. "You can put it that way."

"Courting… I like that. And I'll prove to you I'm worthy of your attention."

"You've already got it. It's myself I have to fix."

He opens the door. "Don't fix yourself too much. I love who you are." We break the hug and he opens the door wider. He kisses my forehead. "Sleep well, Bella."

Not sleep tight. Already different than Emmett. "You too, Edward."

"I love you."

I smile. I like hearing him say those three words. "I know."

"You'll say them too."

"In the future. Now go. We're losing valuable sleep time."

"Alright alright." I watch him walk the short distance to his room. He opens the door with his card key. We wave at each other.

I close the door behind me. Whatever comes in the morning, I can't wait.

The hand-holding scene was taken from a memory I had from my first CTSO conference during my 3rd year of high school. Two of my classmates had rooms next to each other and they wanted to see if their hands could touch from across their two separate balconies. It worked, and I wanted to use that scene in a romantic context.

The almost kiss is a parallel to the Lucaya almost-kiss from the Girl Meets Texas: Part 2 episode of Girl Meets World. GMW is the only show I catch up with on Disney Channel nowdays, given that everything is realistic and the ships aren't rushed. I ship both Lucaya and Rucas, so I won't mind whatever ship becomes the endgame ship.

In reality, for CTSO conferences in Hawaii, there's no such thing as getting our own hotel rooms. The up-side was that we got to choose our roommates, though I still wished we got our own rooms. But hey, that's what fanfiction is for. Fanfiction = allowing our imaginations to be free, as long as our imaginations aren't too wild.

Along with Beauty and a Heartbeat, this fic may be continued. I have a general storyline for what will happen in Scintilla's continuation. But that wouldn't be posted until I complete The Long Game, the sequel to Endgame. Oh, and feel free to go and read Beauty and a Heartbeat! That one goes a little more angsty and it involves one of my favorite genres of music of all time.

Until next time.

~ AA