Okay, so I have decided to switch over to this story for a while. I'm still writing Too Little, Too Late, but now I'm having issues with the way I've written it. I can't get what I want to happen to happen with the right words. So this is a bit of a distraction while get past my writers block. I've written this off and on for months, scribbling in notebooks and things. This story is currently based in my home town in Idaho (a place that I miss very much and hope to visit again soon). The places here are real, and very important to me. However, the story line is not. This is 100% made up. The characters, obviously, are Stephanie Meyers (with my own adjustments). This is currently unbeta'd, as all of my stories have been so far. Although I would love to have someone beta read, I feel like the timing of my writing is too random. I can't keep myself on a schedule (You know, get one chapter done every Sunday, or do a page a day, or whatever. I suck at that.) So I feel as though anyone who did beta for me would have to be able to put up with that. But if this is something that interests you, please PM me.

Anyways, this is a Bella/Emmett story. (the possibility of their relationship had always made me fangirl to no end). So yeah, here goes this. Enjoy and please review! I love hearing your guys' opinions, and what you think at each chapter's end.

After four long years, Bella goes home. How will her family, friends, and – most importantly – her ex-boyfriend, Emmett, react to her return?

…

Bella POV

Home. Here I am, after four long years. I stare at the huge apple tree, its big juicy apples sparking memories of my past. I tuck a stray lock of thick brown hair behind my ear, letting the sunshine warm my face. My hands settle in my lap, turning a folded up piece of paper that I can't bear to open. I watch squirrels run along the stone wall behind the tree, and hear the old yellow lab on the other side bark. The smell of fresh-cut grass and barbecued ribs fills my nose. Every sight, every sound, every smell brings back another memory. I hadn't expected coming back to hurt so much.

"Isabella?" I jump at my grandmother's voice, soft and soothing as ever.

I turn to look at her, and smile. Four years later, my grandma has held on to her beauty so long. Her thick dark curls hang around her face, not messy but not neat. Her cheeks are naturally blushed pink, and her lips are stained in the deep red lipstick that used to leave her kiss-print on my forehead after every visit. Her delicate hands hold out a tall glass of lemonade, and I laugh. "You've got a big ol' apple tree out here, and you bring me lemonade?"

She laughs back, knowing I'm only teasing. "You didn't get enough of that in your childhood?" she teases back as I reach out for the glass. I shake my head no and take a sip. It's perfect, as always. Not to sweet, and not too sour. "Have you been out to see that boy yet, Isabella?"

I look down at my lap, at the paper still in my other hand, and tap its corner on my leg nervously. "Not yet, Grandma. But I'll get there, I promise."

"You better. You know how he'll feel if Ally or Jasper get to you first. Poor boy hasn't been the same since you left." I can't look u pat her, can't meet her eyes, can't see the sadness that I know is only a fraction of what I'll see in Emmett's eyes. I feel her delicate touch on my cheek. She holds her hand there for a second, then I watch her worn purple slippers turn and disappear back into the house.

I sit back in the plush lawn chair and close my eyes, thinking of a time when things were less complicated.

…

"C'mon, Bells, dance with me," he begged. I stared into his sparkling blue eyes, painfully aware of his warm hands on my hips. It was all I had ever wanted, so why was I so nervous? Maybe it was the way her was looking at me, like he was just as hopeful as I was. Or maybe it was my family all around us, watching, waiting, encouraging. Or maybe it was that I couldn't actually dance, and I didn't want to ruin it. "Please?"

I chewed my lower lip, and glanced around us. Fireflies chased each other around the edges of the yard, and tiki torches lit up the center. My family was gathered around us, some dancing, some talking and laughing, some watching Emmett and I, some playing in the pool, their own cross of swimming and basketball. Someone, probably my grandfather, had brought out a CD player and a few speakers, and my favorite song was playing through them.

"Alright," I said quietly, looking back at him. I watched his mouth spread into a huge grin, too big for his face, but perfectly adorable.

"Alright?" he asked, taking my hand and pulling me into the group of dancers.

"Alright!" I laughed, letting him pull me. He turned and placed his hands lightly on my waist, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to hide the shaking in my fingers. We watched each other under the twinkling stars and the beautiful full moon.

'When I saw you,

Everyone knew

I liked the effect that you had on my eyes.

But no one else heard

The weight of your words,

Or felt the effect that they had on my mind.'

(Birdy-Tee Shrt)

…

The next afternoon, I sit in the car, the piece of paper back in my hands, spinning between my fingers, then tapping against my thigh, spinning then tapping, spinning then tapping. I watch it, trying to convince myself to get out of the car, to face what–who–I've been avoiding for four years. Finally, I unfold the paper, my hands shaking so bad I can barely hold onto it. I have to set it down on my lap to read it, and when I do I can't help the tears from welling up in my eyes, blurring my vision. In thick, boyish handwriting, are two sentences.

When you're ready to come home, find me.
I'll be here.

Below that is his address, the same one that I now sit in front of, and a date from two years ago. I can only hope he still lives here. I take a deep breath, and blink the tears away, clearing my eyes. I re-fold the paper and finally raise my eyes to the house. It's small, and white, with dark blue shutters and a tiny porch. The lawn is green, and freshly cut. On each side of the front door there is a window, and each has a flower box underneath with purple petunia's. My heart stutters at this, remembering the same purple petunia's in my grandmothers back yard that I loved and nurtured. She had let them die when I left, because no one loved them like I did, but they were one of my favorite parts of her house. The flowers bring back so many memories, but one in particular stands out.

…

I knelt on the ground, pouring water into the small barrel, making sure to get under and around the petunias. A shadow fell beside me, and I felt the enormous presence of my best friend in the grass beside me.

"They're beautiful," I said quietly, running my finger gently along one of the small flowers.

"Yeah," he agreed, just as quiet. I glanced up at him, and he was watching me.

"What?" I asked, quickly looking back to the flowers.

"What, what?"

I looked back up at him, and his eyes were still on me. I held the edge of the make-shift pot, trying to hide the way my hands were shaking. "Why are you staring at me?"

He laughed, as if it was obvious. "Because, Bella, you're gorgeous. And I just happen to like staring at gorgeous things." He reached into the barrel and plucked a petunia off its stem. I opened my mouth to protest, to yell at him for hurting them, but before I could he placed it in my hair. "The purple looks amazing in your hair," He said quietly. He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, his mouth warm, and his cologne strong and delicious, and then he got up and walked away. And all the while, all I could do was sit and stare.

…

I shake my head to clear it, and get out of the car. As I walk up the small path to the house, I feel my nerves skyrocket. My stomach twists and flips. I pull my bottom lip between my lips and chew, grateful I decided against the soft pink lip gloss. I reach the door and shove the paper deep into my pocket. I have no idea if he knows I'm here. It wasn't a big secret, but I didn't tell him myself.

I stare at the door, unsure of what lays ahead. Four years is a long time. Maybe it's too long. Maybe he's mad at me for not contacting him. Maybe he's mad that I dated other people, though I know he did too. Maybe he doesn't want to see me. I spin around and make my way back down the path, but I'm not fast enough.

The door clicks open, and a voice calls after me. But it's not the one I expect. "Bella?" a girl calls. I freeze, shocked, and turn back to the house.

"Ally?" I ask incredulously. My eyes can't make sense of what I see, but sure enough, there's Alice Cullen in the doorway, grinning ear to ear. Four years ago, Alice was just a freshman in high school. She was small, and shy. She kept her raven hair long enough to cover her beautiful but a little plain face. Now, she's just the opposite. Her hair is short and wild, She's gotten out of the jeans-and-a-tee phase that I seems to be stuck in, and her face is covered in a thin layer makeup that brings her from plane to completely beautiful.

"You're actually here!" she squeals. She bounds down the steps, and suddenly her tiny arms wrap around me.

Once I move past the shock, I hug her back. "I told you I was coming," I chuckle in her ear.

She pulls back, shaking her head. "It's different." Suddenly, she seems to realize something. "Oh!" she exclaims. "I'm so stupid! You didn't come here for me, did you? Of course not. You're looking for my brother. He's inside. Just inside, first room on the left. He's making lunch."

"Does he know?" I ask quietly. In answer she only winks, and gestures towards the door. I hug her again, then walk inside.

Immediately I'm surrounded by the smell of hamburgers. I follow Ally's instructions and turn toward a doorway to my left. And there he is. Finally, after four years, he's really here in front of me. My palms are sweaty, and my stomach is flip-flopping, and my heart is in my throat, and I'm chewing my lip nervously. I can't tell if I want to run to him, or away.

So instead, I stand in the doorway for a minute and watch him. His large frame is hunched over a small stove, flipping burgers. He's beautiful. From his height, to his sky blue eyes, to the way he purses his lips in concentration, to the freckle on the side of his neck.

He finishes the last of the burgers while I watch, and slides them onto a plate. He turns off the stove and then turns to place the pan in the sink. As he bends down, his shirt moves a little, and on his shoulder-blade, a black figure peeks out beneath his shirt. I can't stop the gasp that escapes my mouth.

The sound reveals my presence, and Emmett spins towards me. His mouth drops open, and he grips the edge of the counter hard, like he's having trouble standing up straight. His beautiful eyes are wide. They reveal so much about him, and at the same time nothing at all. Nothing important, anyways. They're filled with shock, which tells me Ally didn't tell him I was coming, but I can't tell if he's happy to see me or not.

"Bells?" He whispers.

"Hey, I whisper back, hoping he doesn't hear my voice break.

"What are you doin' here? I mean, I didn't expect you, is all I mean. Not that I don't–"

I give a short laugh, cutting him off. "I got in yesterday. I would've come here first, but I wanted to get settled first. I actually wanted to wait a couple more days, but... Guess I just couldn't stay away . Same as always." I start chewing my lip again, and stare down at my damaged purple flip-flops.

Suddenly his own black sneakers are there, toe to toe with mine. I can't bring myself to look up, to face him, and he doesn't force me to. I want to reach out and hug him, place my head on his chest and re-familiarize myself with the sound of his heartbeat. I want to get away from him, get out of his house. I don't do either. Instead I just stand in front of him, as still as the door frame behind me.

I watch him shove has hands into his front pockets. "It's been so long, Bella." I cringe away from the pain in his voice.

"I know. I'm sorry." I close my eyes, fighting tears once again.

"Why did you wait so long to come back?"

"I didn't know what to say after you… After her… After what happened. I still don't, Emmett. I finally look up into his eyes, and I wish I hadn't. They're glossed over with their own tears, and there's that crease between his eyebrows, the one that means he's upset with himself.

"God, Bella, I'm so damn sorry about that. But you just left, you didn't let me explain. You didn't give me a chance."

"You didn't even try!" I yelled, suddenly angry. "After I left, you didn't call, you didn't write, you didn't come see me. You didn't do anything but cry to Grandma! So don't you dare tell me that this is my fault!"

"I called you before! I was at your door three times a day, every day, that whole week! You didn't even tell me you were leaving!" He took a deep breath. "That Saturday, I came to the door, and your grandmother looked at me with this look that was just pure pity, like she knew. Like she knew how I felt,and like she knew that I was going to hurt for the rest of my life. She took me into the kitchen, gave me her Ultra Pity cookies, and told me you were gone, and you were never coming back. Bella, that destroyed me. I didn't eat, I barely left my bedroom, I almost lost the apartment, I lost Jessica. I was a wreck." By the end, he's whispering, and the first tear falls slowly down his face, triggering my own tears just a second after.

Without my permission, my hand reaches up and holds the side of his face gently. I wipe away the tear with my thumb, and his own hand holds mine in place.

"I'm back now," I say. His huge arms scoop me up in a hug, my toes barely touching the floor so that I can reach to wrap my arms around his neck. And though he's squeezing me too tight, I feel like I can finally breathe right again after four years of missing him.

"Don't leave me again" he mumbles into my ear.

"Same goes for you, Em." I breathe in his cologne, and the smell of the hamburgers. My hands hold the back of his shirt tightly, revealing the shooting star once again, and the memory attached to it.

…

Every year, I spent the fourth of July with Emmett and Ally and their parents, Carlisle and Esme. But that year, the year I left, the year it all started, Emmett and I snuck away from the park, the people, the river, the fireworks, the noise. We made out way across town to an elementary school where we could barely hear the boom of the light show, and we lay down in their soccer field, side by side, hands joined between us. We'd held hands before, a lot, but tonight felt different. We both wiped our sweaty, nervous hands on our pants before our fingers intertwined. We stared up into the beautiful sky, watching as each star came out, one by one. It was completely silent, but it was companionable silence. The kind you could be in for hours, and never get tired of, or uncomfortable in.

When I started shivering, Emmett pulled me close to him, and wrapped his big strong arms around my shoulders. I was instantly warm, even overheated, but I didn't complain. Being so close to him did weird things to my stomach, but I loved it. I rested my head on his chest, and the sound of his heart beat into my ear. I could even feel his chest move with its force.

"Em?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Why are your fingers shaking?"

He quickly pressed them harder into my arm, probably trying to stop them. They didn't stop. "You make me nervous, Bells."

I laughed, disbelieving. "Emmett Cullen does not get nervous. I bet you're just cold and don't want to admit it cause you think you're too manly."

He raised himself onto his elbows, forcing me to move off of his chest. I was hovering just above him, so close I could see the little freckle on the side of his nose that he's hated since forever. "No, Bella, that's wrong. You do. You make me nervous. My stomach twists, and I shake, and my palms get sweaty, and my heart pounds. Every part of me just wants to reach out and hold you, and I don't know why I haven't yet but I want to, Isabella. I want to so bad."

My jaw dropped somewhere in the middle of his speech, and I have nothing to say to that. Is it possible he feels the same way about me as I do him? There are so many girls that want him, he could have his pick of a majority of the junior or senior class. But here he is, in the park with plain old me, telling me that I make him nervous. I don't get it.

"Say something, Bells?" he whispers.

"I can't," I whisper back. "I'm speechless. You really feel that way about me?"

"I'm in complete and utter awe of you, Bella." He leans towards me, closer and closer and closer. He's going slow, giving me time to move away if I don't want this, but I really, really do. So I don't move, and suddenly his lips are on mine. He tastes like soda and cotton candy, and it's a delicious taste, and all I can think is that I want this moment to last forever.

…

So, this chapter was kinda short. But yeah there it is. It won't be all supernaturally or highly action-packed. It's just a love story. Obviously it will have it's twist and turns, so if you're into that, follow, and pleasepleasepleaseplease review! :) Also, I have a HUGE favor to ask of you guys. If any of you are into the drawing this (I don't care what kind, anime, chibi, realistic, etc.) could you please draw me one of Bella and Emmett together? I want to use it for the image of this story. I will give you credit. Thank you very much for reading. And for those who also read Too Little, Too Late, I will get back to writing it as soon as I can, I promise.