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Rose and I, inseparable, somehow becoming separated by too much space. Graduation had come and gone, the summer, my perfect, never-to-be-recreated-again summer that never ended full of county fairs, huddled under blankets in the stands at intramural baseball games, firefly-filled cool nights scattered around bonfires drinking cheap beer and smoking cherry cigarillos that made your throat burn and your teeth ache. A summer filled with hungover naps poolside, part-time jobs to appear productive, late nights driving around town with no destination, blaring classic rock and hearing the chirping of crickets through her top-down shiny convertible.

We were our small town, close enough to the Second City to suck in its energy, far enough away to be irrelevant. It was home, and it was us.

But August hovered over us like a storm cloud waiting to explode after Rose announced with no pomp and circumstance her own graduation from our comfortable companionship to the bayou of Louisiana, a no-name school with a propensity for mediocre football and crawfish boils. She got a full ride there, a combination of stellar grades and their desperation for cheerleaders, and I was left in the cold.

I hated cold.

The morning she left, she called my house around five in the morning. I didn't answer, but heard my mother open the door and call my name as I feigned sleep. She was waiting, one last ditch effort at saying a proper goodbye, one that I couldn't bear to give to her.

My best friend. All of our plans. I felt betrayed.

The tears flowed, but I was determined to make the best of it.

Fall arrived, the most exciting part of baseball season. Rose never enjoyed it, always sucking it up on my behalf, and I threw myself into the distraction, our phone calls ceasing entirely. My favorite team, inching towards the playoffs. Tickets in my hand, on my feet in the stadium, screaming so loud my voice was lost in the cacophony of the tens of thousands surrounding me. A once in a lifetime moment, and I was a part of it. Electricity pumped through my veins, staring down at the field so green and thick that I could sink in it.

It was mid-October, tears streaming down my face as the trophy was hoisted in the air, when my phone rang. I answered without looking at the caller id, and heard a throat clearing before a timid greeting.

"Bella? It's Rose."

"Uh…hey Rose…I'm kind of…"

"You're in the middle of something. You always are."

I didn't respond.

"Listen, I was at this guy's apartment and they had the game on. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I knew you'd be watching and I wanted to hear your voice. I miss you, Belly."

I smiled at her childhood nickname for me, a time with wobbly knees and braces and pigtails and a sun that never seemed to set on our summers. I missed the summer with Rose. I wished it was always summer.

"I miss you too, Rosie. You know that."

"You didn't say goodbye. I waited, in my driveway, you know. For an hour. For you to come say goodbye."

"I couldn't."

"I know."

Silence. I could hear a car door slam over the line somewhere in the distance, laughter growing closer to her before fading again. She must be outside. It's always summer in Louisiana, I've heard.

"Hey Rose…"

"Come visit, Bella. I'm kinda swamped now with football but…come spend a week here. You have to. I won't take no for an answer."

"Why?"

"I miss you."

"Come on, Rose. I know that voice. There's more than that."

She huffed. But she always told me the truth. It was never any other way. And she would this time, too, no matter how much had occurred between us. In three, two, one…

"I thought I was homesick. Every day, all I'd talk about and think about was home. But, I talk to my parents all the time and it's just whatever, you know? I think you were home for me. I miss my bestie. I'm hoping to convince you to transfer down here."

"Rose, I'm not going to move in the middle of the school year."

"Okay, okay. I'm not saying for spring but, come check it out. See where we'd live, let me show you around. Enjoy the sun for awhile. Don't you miss it? We always had the best summers."

My stomach turned. I hated being here alone. I felt out of place now, like I'd outgrown what it once was.

"Yeah Rosie…the best."

"Sooo…for next fall. Let's think about next fall."

"Okay, Rose. Whatever you want."

She squealed with excitement, a very non-Rose attribute.

"February. Come down for Mardi Gras. We can be each other's Valentine's dates for the fifth year in a row, experience Fat Tuesday. Can't mess with tradition. Please please please! Fly down!"

"Rose, I don't know…"

"Hey! I got it! My car…I didn't think I could have it here, but it turns out I'm kinda living in an apartment situation. They don't have a standard dorm set-up. If you want, you can drive my car down and then fly home? Gas will be on my parents, and you won't have to buy a round trip flight?"

Something in me kept me from finding another excuse. Rose and I had always been together. Maybe we've changed too much in this short amount of time. If any more passed, it might be too late.

"Actually, Rose, that sounds great. I could use a vacation."

It had only been a couple months, but Rose sounded so different. Vibrant. Exciting.

Happy.

The last one hurt the most. I wanted to understand why.

We hammered out details over the winter, me wishing that she could have come home for the holidays, wishing it was February already, other times wishing I could take it back.

And when the day came that I climbed into the apple red car, trying to manage my way the first eight hours on sheets of ice and dirty snow, salt caked on the body in a fine powder that would take several washes to remove, the more miles piled on the speedometer, the more my heart sunk in my chest. Would I fit into Rose's new life? Would we share the same interests? The girl I had known my whole life, through thick and thin; could we not survive just a few short months of adulthood? Had we both outgrown our town, outgrown each other?

I drove further south, chasing the sunrise, fueled on caffeine and sickly sweet energy drinks. Tennessee, Arkansas, finally Louisiana. Moss started to drip from the trees, roads elevated over swampy expanse. Everything felt slower, like molasses seeping through my pores. Five minutes outside of her campus, I'd yet to pass anything but long rows of sugarcane and still-standing slave quarters, their weathered wood lining dirt roads that lead to thick trees that swallowed them whole.

I stopped at a gas station to top off the tank, one side of it a greasy spoon that smelled of salty bacon and coffee, clattering dishes carrying fried hash browns piled a mile high. I paid at the register, a bottled opener tied to it on an old piece of string. Stacked on the side were cases of beer, ripped open and contents missing. No rules about drinking and driving, I suppose.

Closer to campus brought a couple fast food chains I recognized, standard college fare, nestled on oddly named roads ending in –eaux, in between sprawling lawns that lead to whitewashed plantation homes, their columns attempting to climb up to the sky before settling on ivy-wrapped second story balconies. There were people selling roses and hideous stuffed animals on street corners, their flowers wilting in five gallon buckets lined up at their feet begging for eleventh hour customers. Random drive-through daiquiri shops, cars lined up despite the hour, handed colorful drinks by cup or gallon jug. Despite the ease, it felt welcoming and alive.

I pulled up to Rose's complex, several newer apartment buildings surrounding a standard rectangle pool teeming with students trying to get the best chairs early on, tugging collapsible coolers and drink carriers loaded with the recognizable daiquiri insignias. The key was still in the ignition when I saw her bounding down the three sets of stairs, more golden skinned than last August, hair bleached from the sun and a smile a mile wide. My melancholy fell by the wayside, remembering why this was my partner in crime, my future maid of honor, the godmother of my children. This was Rose. I am Bella. Shorts and sunshine and laughter. That's all we needed.

"Belly!" she yelled, yanking open the car door and pulling me in her arms the moment the seatbelt had snapped back into its resting place. She smelled like suntan oil and Rose, and I was reminded of our summers once again. We hugged, rocking side to side enthusiastically, laughter uncontainable, and exchanged our boxes of conversation hearts that we never ate, a yearly tradition. We carried my luggage into her place, tastefully decorated in blues and greys save for a worn vinyl tablecloth that was covered in harsh neon pinks and reds, cherubic cupids reminding me of another lonely year. Her roommates were out of town for the holiday, and she excitedly told me that the campus closes for Mardi Gras. We'd be staying in town, enjoying the local parade and troupes, exploring the campus leisurely without the normal hustle and bustle. And she had someone special she wanted me to meet.

Glad to see things worked out well for one of us.

"You have a boyfriend?! You didn't say anything. I wouldn't have come today."

"Don't be crazy, Bella." She admonished. "He knows how excited I am for your visit."

"Yeah, but your first Valentine's day? Your favorite day of the year, and you've actually got someone to spend it with?"

"I've always had someone to spend it with, Belly. Don't be silly." She waved me off before flipping her hair, putting a stop to the topic at hand. "I know you probably want to sleep after that drive, so how about we go down to the pool for a couple hours to nap and get toasty brown, and then head up to the ball field."

My head whipped towards her, a grin on my face. She was twirling a piece of her blonde locks, looking around nonchalantly.

"I mean, we don't have to. I don't know if you're into that sort of thing…"

"Rosie! Ahhh! Of course! It's so weird having the season start early down here. So, you're gonna spend your Valentine's with me instead of your new boyfriend, and even worse, at a baseball game?!"

"You'll see…Everything is perfect down here, Belly. It's my one opportunity to show you."

I didn't answer. I was afraid to jinx it.

Bikini clad, Styrofoam cup daiquiri thrust into my hand from an unknown source, two hurricanes and a mai tai, hot sun beating down on my bones, lulling me into the most content sleep I had ever had. It was a couple hours later, gentle shaking luring me back to reality, when we made our way back to the apartment to change into cutoff shorts and tank tops too tight for the north but hot enough down here to never care.

The air was so humid that it was palpable, foggy sun shining on our pedicured toes as our sandals kicked up gravel in the parking lot. The baseball field was small, its brick entrance unassuming under the shadow of the football stadium. The crack of bats during warm-ups made my heart skip a beat.

Maybe Rose had her special someone for Valentine's day. But I had this. It was everything I needed at this juncture between what I was doing with my life and what I wanted. I wanted our summers back. I wanted here.

Sitting on the hot metal bleachers, I scanned the field. Rose was talking animatedly beside me about the guys on the team, but I wasn't listening. There was a player at the back of the field, furthest from the stands along the foul line. He was sitting on a bench, legs kicked up onto the fence, leaning back and scanning the grounds. His ball cap was low, casting a shadow over his eyes, drawing me to him. He was making another pass when I saw him halt, seemingly in my direction. He leaned forward as if to get a closer look, then placed two long fingers to his lips, letting out a shrieking whistle and motioning to the catcher.

"That's Emmett, Belly. He's…he's the one. I just know it. I can't wait for you to meet him."

I followed her extended arm, pointing towards the bullpen where the lone player had unfolded his limbs, standing tall and muscular next to the burly catcher, the two of them nodding heads and facing in our direction.

"The pitcher?"

"What? Oh, no. The catcher. Isn't he amazing?"

"He looks like a big guy."

"Mmhmm…girl, you've got no idea."

I tore my eyes away from the field, staring at Rose for a beat before we burst out laughing.

"I missed this so damn much, Belly." She said as she wrapped an arm around me.

"Me too, Rosie. Me too."

The game started, innings climbing on while the mysterious player remained in his frozen stance, leaning back in the bench, overlooking the game. Why hadn't they put him in? Does he not play? Is he injured? Is he not good enough?

6-6, top of the eighth. Rose's Emmett was sweating, drenched from the heat and the stakes, the coach much the same. The coach leaned over in the dugout, signaling the bullpen. Cheers erupted, and the shadowy pitcher stood and made his way onto the field, jogging slowly but with purpose, eye on the mound. When he reached the infield, he broke his concentration and looked up at the stands, the neon lighting blanketing him in its brightness. He looked god-like, angular features and pink lips, a small grin as he grasped the bill of his hat and tipped it in my direction.

"Bella! Did you see that?!"

I nodded dumbly as the speakers crackled to life, the announcer listing off stats in a drawl.

"Stepping up to the mound is Edward Cullen from Houma, Louisiana. 3-0 this season, our southpaw with the submarine."

The cheers were deafening, people on their feet as he rolled his shoulders, tossing a few casual pitches to Emmett. Rose leaned over, yelling in my ear.

"He's a sophomore, but major league scouts having been filling this place for him ever since the middle of fall ball. He's freaking amazing."

I raised a questioning eyebrow at her, and she shrugged.

"What? So, maybe baseball's grown on me. So what?"

"Or Emmett." I chuckled, shaking my head as she bumped her shoulder into mine, the stadium increasing in intensity as he wound up for the pitch.

He started so far from the mound, long strides making its way before twisting his arm to the side, his legs low to the ground as he released. The ball flew with incredible speed, practically hovering over the dirt, batter after batter swinging deceptively low or much too slowly at the ball that appeared to float but did anything but, dirt flying from Emmett's mitt with an echoing slap and the call from the Umpire. Before long, through the deafening cheers of the home crowd, the game was over, my mind in a trance on the closer from Houma.

We were waiting outside the locker rooms when Emmett emerged, freshly showered and on a mission towards Rose. He scooped her up into his arms, swinging her around as she squealed in the non-Rose way and they kissed passionately. It was obvious what, or who, brought out that side of her. But I couldn't help but smile at her genuine happiness, a small ache for the loss of my own.

I walked over to the other side of the building to give the couple some privacy, leaning against the cool brick. I could hear the frogs and crickets, mosquitos buzzing but the humidity stifling and oppressive despite the moonlight. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the lingering smells of popcorn and fresh cut grass.

"Care for some company?"

My eyes flew open to find my southpaw, looking down at me with a crooked grin, feet crunching on the gravel as he moved towards me.

"Um, sure. Help yourself."

He leaned against the wall next to me and dropped his duffle bag on the ground, so close that our arms nearly touched. He reached up and removed his hat, shaking his damp hair and revealing a head full of messy copper-colored locks. He grinned wider at my blatant staring, sparks flying between us, the static of inevitability.

"I saw you in the stands," he drawled. "You know Rose?"

"Uh…yeah. She's my best friend. We grew up together."

He frowned, a look that should never grace his perfect features.

"So, this is short-term then." It was a statement, and he looked away with no room for response.

I nervously twirled my fingers, itching to touch him and tempted to bolt, too much energy pulsating in our radius to find my train of thought.

"So…" I said, barely above a whisper, nervousness threatening my voice.

"Any plans for tonight?" he said suddenly, too loud for the proximity and standing straight up, facing towards me excitedly.

"Tonight…?"

"It's Valentine's day!" he laughed, his twang so sweet and slow as if he was chewing on the words.

"Uh…no. Definitely not. No."

"Well ma'am, the hospitable thing to do for someone visiting this fine state is to show you a good time."

I smiled, crossing my arms, slithering closer towards him, my body twisting on its own accord.

"Oh, is that right? I guess your mama raised you right."

He leaned towards me, our noses practically touching. I could feel his sweet breath wash over my face, dazzling me, my eyes closing gently for a moment, inching closer…

"And what would a 'good time' entail, hmm?" I whispered, finding his stunning emerald eyes burning into my brown. Sunshine into dark. Summer into winter.

One heartbeat, one second paused before he crashed his lips to mine, my body pulled onto my tiptoes, closer to his than I had ever thought possible. He lifted me with ease, wrapping my legs around his torso before pushing me against the brick, the light scraping adding another depth to my overstimulated body. His tongue dipped against mine, tasting before plunging deeper, teeth scraping and hands wandering. My hands explored his back, muscles rippling beneath my fingertips exposing their power, his forearms bursting with the strength that throws 90 mph sinkers. He drove his pelvis into mine, hardened to every delicious inch, feet scraping up gravel to get closer, to climb into each other. I tore my mouth from his, panting but hungry for more, his lips slowing to graze along my neck, my collarbone, my bare shoulders still warm and pink from the midday sun.

"Be my Valentine. Spend the evening with me?" he whispered against my skin, sticky from the evening and his own.

I shook my head 'no', still grinding against him, my hands tugging at his shirt stretched tight over his abs. He chuckled in his low, deep voice, grabbing each hand in one of his own and pinning it against the harsh brick above me.

"Spend the evening with me." No question this time.

"Yes." I whispered, our satisfied smiles lazily reaching our hooded eyes.

"Bella!"

I turned my head to the corner of the building at the sound of my name. I could hear footsteps shuffling closer, Rose calling for me once again.

"You're Bella? Of course you are." He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief as he set me down gently.

My nervous tone returned, growing apprehensive about my pitcher, wondering how he knew Rose.

"My reputation precedes me?"

"I feel like I already know you," he laughed again, his drawl growing more pronounced. "I'm roommates with Emmett, and I don't think there's been a day where we haven't heard some story about y'all."

"Oh great." I muttered flatly, a booming laugh at my expense clamoring towards me, Rose's giggle chiming in as Emmett scooped me up into a bear hug and I struggled to free myself.

"So nice to meet you, Belly! What are y'all doing over here?"

"I see you've met Edward. What an odd place to be hanging out, don't you agree Emmett?" she questioned, elbowing him and giving me a smug look that let me know she was on to me.

"I have it on good authority that this fella here has a surprise for you," Edward said, throwing an arm around Emmett's broad shoulders and drawing the spotlight off of me. "And I have been overtaken by Bella's beauty and decided to celebrate this fine Valentine's Day at her side."

My mouth dropped open, Rose bursting out in giggles at my shock.

"Is that right, Bella?"

"I…uh…yeah…"

"You look a little flushed there, honey."

I could feel my face burning, hoping the poolside color would mask my embarrassment.

Edward grabbed my hand and reached down for his duffle bag, telling Emmett and Rose that we'd see them later as I struggled to keep pace with his long strides. We reached a black pick up truck, so high off the ground I thought I'd have to jump. I was debating the finer points of literally climbing into a vehicle and wondering why the hell such a monstrosity would even exist when he opened my door and lifted me into the seat.

"We go muddin'" he said in explanation, reading my mind and reaching over to buckle my seatbelt, fingers lightly grazing my breasts and hips and sending a shudder down my spine. I simply nodded, buzzing flowing through my body at his touch, at the prospects for more. This was vacation. This would be fun, another story to tell, another campfire laugh to be had, another secret lost in the breeze during late night, top-down car rides.

I could tell myself that, but I knew it was more.

We drove to the diner gas station, pulling into two spots. He hopped down from the cab, jogging to my side before swinging open my door.

"Miss." He said with a tip of his cap as he reached his hand to me in offering.

I took it without hesitation, and he helped me down and pulled me into the convenience store, bell ringing and a blast of stale air conditioned air, thick with grease and the hum of coolers.

"Wait here." Edward gave me a soft kiss on the lips, halting me in place and walking towards the back of the store before I could respond. He emerged a minute later, arms laden with sad looking roses and heart shaped boxes of cheap candies, spreading them onto the counter as the attendant congratulated him on the game and rang him up. He walked up to me and nodded towards his full hands, looking bashful for the very first time.

"Had to do it right, you know. Part of mama's teachings."

I giggled. "Of course."

I grabbed the flowers from him, plastic and soggy tissue paper crinkling as I pressed them to me, drawing in their sweet smell as I inhaled deeply. Fluorescent lights shined down on us, cheap candy and flowers, brand new in every way.

Never had a day been better.

We drove to his apartment, walking into the second floor space that was a mirror image of Rose's. The spackled walls were lined with baseball posters and banners, mismatched furniture and popcorn ceilings. Several dozen green, yellow, and purple beads hung from a nail stuck in a doorway, a LSU blanket was draped across a worn blue armchair that reached its prime before we were born, a clear glass bowl on the counter was piled high with the tops from beer bottles, overflowing onto the Formica. He set down the flowers and chocolates, motioning around us.

"So, this is it." He said nervously, removing his cap and tossing it aside before running his hand through his hair. I couldn't let him be nervous. He was…he was something. I knew it. I just couldn't figure out what it was. I needed to figure out what it was.

Something familiar…

I slowly walked up to him and reached out for his hands, placing them at my waist before running my own through his locks, picking up eagerly where he had left off. He kept his eyes locked to mine, swimming with emotion, desire, intensity. He pulled me down the hall into his room, turning and locking the door.

There was no pause now. Not this time. This was 6-6, top of the eighth, green grass, stifling humidity and sweat and excitement and thunderous applause. Clothes were removed expertly, only a beat spent admiring nakedness before crashing together in moans. He laid me down on his sheets, cool and soft against the scratches from the brick building, desire building and threatening to level the entire area surrounding us. He hovered over me, the perfect sinker, floating and putting me in a daze but moving too fast for me to get a hold on. His tongue explored every inch, moving lower and lower before swirling back upwards, my hips rising to get closer, to find friction. He didn't disappoint, fingers crawling past my belly before dipping into my folds, more moisture in the air, moonlight shining across my body in slivers through the blinds. He glowed. He was county fairs and blaring classic rock, huddled under blankets and poolside naps and baseball games.

And as he positioned himself against me, sinking in so slowly with his hardness and strength, lips and tongues and sweet touches, murmurs and promises and whispers under sheets, he flipped me over, propping my tired body up, helping me keep a rhythm, draw more satisfaction from him with each twist of my hips. He moaned, eyes locked to mine, caressing every piece of me at his disposal.

"Happy Valentine's day, my Bella," he drawled slowly, sticky breeze and sweltering heat, the slush of icy cool hurricanes and slow, sweet crawl of molasses. He was something, and I finally knew what it was.

Sunshine and summer.