The Taste of Fall

Angela watched Bella twirl across the dance floor, a vision in immaculate white as she clung to her beaming groom. Barely even wincing as she teetered beneath the barrage of flashing cameras, Bella seemed to take everything in stride. If her smile was any indication, she even enjoyed it. Brushing a light brown curl from her eye, Angela smiled thoughtfully, pleased that her close friend had found love.

Bella and Edward's relationship had always intrigued her. She regarded it silently, waiting for Ben to return from the bathroom. Even in the beginning it had seemed somehow different, she reflected. There had been a guarded honesty in their gaze, a timid acceptance. Their devotion had exceeded beyond the norm of a typical high school relationship. Then again, neither of them could be regarded as typical by any stretch of the imagination. Not typical, but definitely a welcome change. She thought back to Jessica's numerous hapless relationships. The high school definition of love was a stilted one. Angela wasn't an inherently jealous person, but she couldn't help but to envy the tangible love that Edward and Bella clearly shared.

Angela bit her lip. Love? Did she know love? Or was she just another foolish teenage girl living under fickle delusions? She liked Ben to be sure. She was fond of Ben. He made her laugh and smile. She could whisper bottled secrets casually into his ear, not fearing ridicule or mockery for his frequent, darkish anecdotes. But did that constitute love?

Her calm, reasonable side implored that, on a whole, it did not.

Another part of her…another part of her was lost in Ben's messy black hair nd almond eyes. No relationship is perfect, that part of her urged. Even Edward and Bella had their little spats. She could read it in their eyes. That part Angela remind her how it felt her first kiss, her belly warm as her heart beat erratically. She could feel Ben's hands in hers, a little sweaty, but undeniably right. It was a different sort of love, of course, but it was a kind of love nonetheless.

"Ang."

Angela jerked out of her reverie as Ben loped up to her, his hair and tie disheveled. There was a spark in his eyes that shone mischievously as he approached. He jerked his head to the dance floor where a few other couples had begun to rotate. Bella was now swaying awkwardly with her father, who shuffled like a dancing bear.

"Wanna dance?" Extending an arm he quipped, "I washed my hands. Promise."

Angela wrinkled her nose. "Well, in that case, what can I say?"

"You can always say yes," Ben smiled.

With that, he gripped her firmly by the hand, guiding her as she blushed her way out onto the dance floor. The song was slow and instrumental, a lyrical piano tinkering dulcetly in the background. Angela buried her head into his shoulder, inhaling the delicious scent of soap and laundry detergent that pervaded his coat.

As she rocked there, her eyes squeezed shut against the future, she once again pondered love. They had lasted the long summer, but could they last forever? College loomed, ominous on the horizon. How would life change from there?

Blinking, Angel clung to her semblance of love. She reached up tentatively, suddenly desirous of its refreshing taste. She searched until her lips found his.

"Angela," Ben grinned in pleasant surprise. They swayed into the shadows.

"Shh." Angela kissed him, longing not for the taste of summer, but for the taste of fall, a changing love. This love tasted of spiced apples. This taste could withstand the winter.