Bella and I have always been like two peas in a pod. I suppose it began before we were even born, when our mothers became best friends. Bella's mother, Renee, discovered that she was pregnant just three months after my mom found out that she was expecting me. They knew that we were destined to be as close as they had been for the last several years.

I don't know if they were expecting that fate would also give them each a boy or each a girl, or if we should have been best friends regardless. They got their wish, no matter what they expected—we have been inseparable for our entire lives. We even used our childish logic to reason away the other having cooties—even when we believed everyone else of the opposite gender had them. I kissed Bella's knee and defended her fiercely when she fell off of the monkey bars on the playground, and a teacher wanted to use the dreaded hydrogen peroxide to clean her wound. I played Romeo to her Juliet, just because she knew she would be too shy to play that part opposite any other boy in our sixth grade play. I opened her locker every day in eighth grade, when her classic Bella luck left her with the one locker that jammed with every attempt to get something out of it.

Before you assume that I am just some gallant gentleman, I should set the record straight; I would not do such things for just anyone. I don't do them because Bella is my best friend. I do them because I, Edward Cullen, am in love with Bella Swan.