So, I've had these outtakes sitting around for a while and thought that instead of letting them languish forever in my doc folder (which is truly a graveyard of half-written things), I'd share them instead.

This outtake details Rose and Emmett's first kiss and takes place during her senior year of high school. This is post-Corner and chock-full o' dramatic teenage emotions. :)

As always, I don't own Twilight, yada yada.

I dragged my fingers lightly along the wall as I made my way down the dark hallway. The thumping bass of the rap song playing downstairs was reverberating against my fingertips and I smiled unsteadily at the sensation.

Alice was having one of her epic parties, the kind where everybody planned their weekend around it, shuffled their work schedules so that they weren't hung over and puking during their shift at the mall or the diner or the grocery store the next morning. Her parents were out of town again – in New York this time? It was hard to keep up and it didn't matter anyway. Word had spread quickly regardless. Jasper and Emmett had even made the three and a half hour trek from Seattle after their last class earlier. Last I saw, Emmett was manning the keg and Jasper was lording over the stereo while Alice danced, her arms flailing around haphazardly.

It was late now. I wasn't sure what time exactly; the night was starting to blur together. Three Solo cups full of lukewarm beer would do that. My body felt light and heavy at the same time, my head spinning just enough that it was entertaining instead of annoying.

I stopped just outside one of the closed doors in the hallway, frowning at it. Why had I come up here again?

Oh, that's right. Edward.

Someone had set up a makeshift beer pong table downstairs and I wanted to kick his ass. I had way better hand-eye coordination than he did when he was drunk, so it would be an easy win. He'd never refuse a challenge. My smile widened at the thought of handing him his ass.

He'd come upstairs a little while ago, Bella trailing behind him. Emmett and Jasper had catcalled them the entire way up and I'd tried not to laugh when Bella tripped on the last step. Emmett saw the twist of my mouth, probably heard the snort too, and elbowed me softly. He always seemed to catch me when I didn't want to be seen.

"Are you okay?" Alice had yelled, her beer sloshing over the side of her cup. She stared down at the puddle near her feet, looking troubled, then shrugged and looked back up at Bella.

"Go away, you guys are attracting attention," Edward complained, pulling Bella into his side protectively. His eyes, slightly hazy and heavy-lidded, swept over the group of us gathered at the foot of the stairs and lingered on me for a split second.

"Yeah, real covert operation you've got going on there, buddy," Jasper said in an extra-loud voice as he pulled a joint from his shirt pocket. "No one knows what a trip up the stairs to the bedroom means."

Edward released Bella just long enough to flip Jasper off with both hands, then tugged her down the dark hallway, her head tucked into the crook of his shoulder.

I'd only been one beer in at that point. I'd slammed two in succession after that, trying to numb the ache in my chest.

I leaned my cheek against the smooth wood of the door now and listened for any sounds of covert fucking. They wouldn't do that at a crowded party like this, would they? That didn't seem like them. More likely than not they'd just come up here to escape the crowd and noise. Bella was not a crowd and noise type of girl.

Come to think of it, they'd left just as Mike Newton attempted to do the worm in the living room in front of a raucous one.

I wrapped my hand around the doorknob and gingerly tried to turn it, my bottom lip caught between my teeth. It opened easily, silently. I stuck my head in and opened my mouth to call out Edward's name.

Someone else beat me to it. It was barely an exhalation, but I heard it loud and clear over the music. "Edward."

My eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly and I suddenly saw two bodies, one sitting on the edge of the bed, the other standing and slightly hunched.

It was as if a subtle spotlight revealed everything I didn't want to see in painstaking detail. It felt like I was standing there for hours, though it was probably all of two seconds. I saw his hands, one wrapped up in her hair, the other curved around her hip and moving down until it cupped the back of her jeans-clad thigh. I saw her standing between his legs, her hands exploring his jaw line and then going up into his hair. I heard the soft rustle of clothing, the sounds of their uneven breath. The moonlight peeked through the curtains and I saw his face for one quarter of a second, his eyes closed in rapture.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat and I tripped back, my hand slipping off the doorknob and then reaching for it again. I panicked. I needed to get the fuck out before they saw me.

The door creaked and I just barely saw Bella's head turn before I stepped out of sight.

Her voice drifted out of the room. "Who was that?"

His was clearer, silky and gruff at the same time. "Who cares? C'mere."

I closed my eyes, feeling that familiar prickling sensation, and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed around the empty hallway, vibrating down into my bones.

I made it down the stairs somehow and went straight to the kitchen where the keg was, grabbing a cup. Emmett was nowhere to be seen so I pumped it myself and filled the cup three quarters of the way, stopping to take a huge gulp.

Who cares? I fucking care, I thought, wiping my mouth with the back of my wrist fiercely. I couldn't get the image of them together out of my mind. I felt like a trespasser, like some sort of voyeur looking in on an incredibly intimate moment. And it wasn't like they'd been naked and humping; it was just a kiss.

But it wasn't just a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that meant something, that had heart and lust and passion and promise poured into it. It was the kind of kiss that got you so wrapped up that you didn't hear or see or feel anything else but that person right in front of you. You definitely didn't hear the door open or the breath being sucked out of someone else's lungs.

God, I wanted out of my body right now. I wanted to peel back my skin and step outside of it, leave it on the kitchen floor so I didn't have to feel like this anymore. I didn't want to have to look at them every day and see how happy they were.

I took another long drink so my mouth had something to do. I had a feeling if I didn't it would let out a whimper or a sob, and the last thing I wanted to be was that girl who got wasted and cried. What I did want was numbness. I wanted light and dizzy and oblivion so I didn't have to think about my best friend loving someone else.

"Easy, tiger." I turned to see Emmett in the doorway, a smile twitching on his mouth. It dropped as his eyes swept over my face. I must have looked insane or pissed or maybe insanely pissed because he stepped forward, frowning. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine," I choked out, shoving my cup at him so he'd keep his distance. "I need more beer, please."

"I think you've had enough, Hale," he replied, taking the cup out of my hand and placing it on the counter. I glared up at him, mouth agape. "Whatever's wrong, more alcohol isn't going to help matters."

"Whatever," I muttered, leaning back against the counter and crossing my arms. "I just want to be drunk."

"You are drunk."

"Drunker," I snapped. "Why are you cutting me off?"

He rolled his eyes. "Because something's clearly going on and getting shitfaced will only make it worse."

I snatched the cup from his hands and peeked into it. Son of a bitch, it was empty. I turned my death stare back to him and he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Tossing it over my shoulder and into the sink, I said, "Fine. If I don't get to have any, neither do you."

"That's fine, I've been nursing that cup all night anyway," he shrugged, stepping closer to me as someone pushed by him. I swayed and placed my hand on his chest to steady myself. He cupped my elbow gently, his hand warm and steady against my bare skin.

"Come on, Em," I cajoled, looking up at him. I had the sudden urge to run a finger over the thick fringe of sooty lashes framing his blue eyes. "Just one more."

"Tell me what's wrong and then we'll talk," he said. He was still close to me, even though the kitchen had emptied out again, and I realized my hand was still on his chest.

"It's nothing," I started, but was interrupted by Jasper and Alice bounding in, trailed by Edward. Miraculously, Bella wasn't with him. My theory that their skin had somehow grafted together and they'd become Siamese twins was officially debunked.

"Donger needs bee – whoa," Jasper said and then faltered, taking in the scene before him. My hand dropped to my side and I slid sideways, putting some distance between Emmett and me. Alice's eyes widened and I shook my head. I wasn't in the mood for her assumptions. Emmett made a beeline for Jasper and grabbed the flask in his hand, taking a long pull.

Edward sidled up to me, nudging my shoulder with his. "What's going on?"

I stayed silent, crossing my arms, my eyes fixed on the cabinet across the way.

He leaned forward to catch my eye, but I just turned my head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said to the cabinet's handle.

"It doesn't look like nothing," he murmured. "Your nostrils are doing that flaring thing they do when you're mad."

I plugged my nose and glared over at him. "God, just leave me alone, Edward. Are you trying to piss me off?"

He balked, his hazy smile turning down into a sneer. "Jesus, what's up your ass? Excuse me for caring."

I let out an incredulous laugh. "Oh, that's funny."

"Why is that funny?" he responded.

He looked genuinely annoyed now and that only fed my irrational anger. His complete and utter ignorance at what he did to me, at how he continued to unknowingly torture me by doing just enough to keep the pathetic sliver of hope I had alive absolutely brought me to my knees. It was accidental, but that almost made it worse. Shouldn't he have known me well enough to see the way he was wrecking me?

The saddest part of all of this was that I knew it was irrational to be mad at him and yet I couldn't stop myself. I wanted to punish him for loving her. I wanted to scream and yell and make him feel like shit because that's what he was doing to me.

I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted by Mike running into the kitchen, laughing uproariously. He slammed into Edward, who slammed into the counter and the half-full cup of beer sitting on it. His hand hit it just right and it went flying onto me in an almost poetic amber arc.

I scrunched my eyes shut as an ominous silence descended on the kitchen. I could have sworn I heard a record screeching to a halt somewhere. The warm liquid covered me from collarbone to waist, soaking through my pink shirt.

My eyes opened slowly, going from the horrified faces of Jasper, Emmett and Alice to Mike's terrified gaze, finally settling on the perfect little "o" Edward's mouth was making. His lips looked darker, a deep cherry red, and slightly swollen, and if he thought my nostrils were flaring before, he hadn't seen anything yet.

Alice stepped forward, a little snort escaping her. Apparently the horror had turned to humor. "Rosalie, are you –"

"What the fuck, Edward?" I spat out. My throat was so constricted with pain and anger that I wasn't able to reach the full volume I intended.

He gaped at me. "What do you mean, what the fuck Edward? Newton was the one who ran into me!"

Mike took one look at the murderous glint in my eye and beat it out of the kitchen, tail between his legs.

"I feel like I'm unknowingly co-starring in a reality remake of Carrie," I heard Jasper whisper. Emmett smacked him on the back of the head.

"If you had just left me alone like I asked you to, you wouldn't be standing there and I wouldn't be standing here with disgusting frat beer all over me," I replied, pulling my shirt away from my sticky skin.

"I thought I got the good kind," Alice said, looking down into her cup.

Edward's eyes were wide and fixed on me. "It was an accident, for Christ's sake."

Right, an accident. Somehow I thought that would be his excuse for making me love him, too, if he knew. Why was it that when people said 'it was an accident' they thought it absolved them from what they had done, from the chain reaction they caused? It didn't matter if there was intent or not. The damage was done regardless.

That thought went from silent to growled out, purged out of my mouth. "Just because it was an accident doesn't mean it didn't happen. It doesn't erase what you did."

"I literally have nofucking clue what you're talking about right now, Rosalie," Edward shot back, looking at the others for backup. They all remained smartly silent. "It's a shirt. You are the only person I know that would blow up about this."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, right, Rosalie the vapid blonde. Good one, Edward."

"Wow," he laughed humorlessly. "You are truly irrational. You've outdone yourself, congratulations."

"Hey, hey," Jasper said, stepping in between us. "It's all good."

"Yeah, it's all good. It was an accident, right?" I spat out.

Edward threw up his hands, trying to step closer to me. Jasper held him off, his hands squarely on his chest. "What the fuck? What do you want me to say? Do I need to pay for your dry cleaning bill? Or do you want me to sit here and sew you a new shirt? Just tell me what to do."

"Leave me alone! That's what I asked you to do in the first place and you ignored me, as usual, because you don't get it."

His brow furrowed. I had a feeling the bridge of the nose pinch wasn't far behind. "Don't get what?"

"Exactly!"

And then suddenly we were yelling at each other, our words piling on top of each other's so they didn't make any sense. It was all gibberish, expletives mixed randomly in with identifiable words, because we were both so out of our minds with anger and alcohol (and probably weed, in his case).

I was always fascinated by the way his features bloomed when we fought, how his eyes sparked with fire, how that vein in his neck protruded and pulsed. He was beautiful, even like this. It occurred to me then that these were the only times I incited such a passionate response in him. Maybe that was why I pushed and provoked him. Even if he was screaming at me, it was better than him ignoring me. At least he was paying attention. At least he was looking at me instead of her.

"Okay, I think we're done here," Emmett said, stepping forward and taking me by the arm. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

"Oh, yay, someone who gives a shit," I replied sarcastically, letting him lead me out of the kitchen. Alice placed her hand on my shoulder as I stalked by her, but I shook it off, too irate to be touched.

We strode down the dark hallway and people jumped out of the way, staring. I wasn't sure if it was because of the picture Emmett and I represented – blonde fury and brute strength – or if it was the smell of drama rolling off of us in waves.

"Hey, hold up," Edward called out, following us.

Emmett looked back at him. I couldn't see his face, but a light flush was marring the golden skin on his neck and tingeing the ends of his ears. "Dude, you're done."

Edward snorted. "Fuck that, not until I get an apology."

I whirled on him, slamming into Emmett. He stood in place, one hand on my hip, serving as a solid barricade between me and the stupid idiot I couldn't fall out of love with no matter how hard I tried.

"You want an apology?" I asked and held up my middle finger. "Here's your apology."

Edward shook his head, the anger seeming to slip slightly. I could see the confusion in his eyes, the flash of something else that I was too drunk to recognize. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a slight body, dark hair gleaming, come to stand beside him. She put a hand on his arm but he shook it off, stepping forward slightly. My heart constricted in victory, exultant that he had rebuffed her to focus on me.

"Why are you being like this, Rosalie?" he asked, shaking his head. "It's just a shirt."

No, it's just my heart. But I couldn't tell him that. I'd missed my chance a long time ago.

Emmett led me through the doorway of a bathroom and I stumbled back slightly, grabbing onto a towel rack. My balance was really starting to fuck itself up now, the alcohol apparently replacing the adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins just minutes before.

"Know when to retreat, solider," Emmett said before slamming the door in his face.

I turned away from him to look in the mirror. I looked completely unhinged, my hair falling in crazy waves around my face, my cheeks red with wrath, my jaw clenched. And my shirt. The beer had made it all but see-through. The small flower pattern on my bra was showing clearly through the soaked material.

"My bra was showing!" I exclaimed, cupping my hand over it.

"Yep," Emmett said. I looked at his reflection. He was leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked somewhere between annoyed and amused, his eyes focused on my hand.

The bathroom was small, and I'd never felt its size more than right now. He was far away but close, not touching me but still all around. I could feel his body heat, could smell the soap and cologne he used.

His eyes met mine and I felt the warmth spreading from my cheeks outward, down my neck and flushing my chest.

I swallowed hard, ripping my gaze from his. I focused instead on my shirt and how the hell I was going to get it clean. I snatched a hand towel from the rack and gathered a handful of fabric inside of it, trying to squeeze the moisture from it.

"So, are you going to tell me what that was all about out there?" Emmett asked. His voice was everywhere, bouncing off the walls and humming against my skin.

"Nope," I replied, keeping my eyes on my shirt. Mortifyingly enough, they started filling with tears. The humiliation of how I had acted was starting to sink in. I had been irrational, had let my emotions get the best of me. And the worst part was that everyone probably thought I flew off the handle for no real reason, that I was truly upset about the goddamn shirt. I'd made a complete idiot out of myself.

"Hey."

The deep timbre of Emmett's voice cut into my thoughts and I looked up as a tear slipped down my cheek. He was standing just behind me now and reached around to take the towel from my hand.

"Come on, sit down."

I walked the short length of the bathroom and plopped down on the toilet, which was unfortunately the only place to sit, then cradled my head in my hands. "I'm so stupid."

He crouched down in front of me. "You're not stupid, just drunk."

"How about crazy?" I tried, sniffling.

He shook his head and pursed his lips thoughtfully, appraising me. "You're kind of a pain in the ass, and hard as hell to wrangle, but you're not stupid or crazy."

"I feel stupid and crazy."

"That's pretty normal when you're hurting."

My heart dropped. I focused on his hands, which were laid flat on the top of my thighs. "I – I don't know what…"

There was a long pause and then he sighed. "Okay, Rose. Statement retracted."

I looked up at him, another tear blazing a path down my face. I wondered if the pain was radiating off of me or if I was just that transparent. I wouldn't admit anything, though, no matter how obvious my scene out there was. Everyone else had been drunk enough not to put two and two together and I silently cursed him for being both sober and incredibly observant.

He brushed his thumb against my wet cheek. "Hey now, there's no crying in baseball."

I gave him a watery smile and he grinned in response. "What about in a tiny bathroom with Destiny's Child playing in the background?"

"That's how you know Jasper's really fucked up," he laughed. "He starts playing inane shit like this. He subjected me to an entire night of that thong song last week because he was sure it said 'Alice' in it somewhere."

"Did it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You are drunk."

I nodded and my body swayed with my head.

He smiled, a heartbreakingly tender one, and I pressed a finger against one of his dimples. He caught my finger in his hand and squeezed it.

I want it to be you, I thought, letting my eyes roam over his face and take in his beautiful gold-flecked eyes that could never decide if they were blue or green; the straight, strong lines of his nose, his brow, his jaw; the perfect cupid's bow of his top lip.

The physical electricity between us had always been palpable, almost tangible, and it was crackling in the air right now, right between our mouths that had somehow gotten just inches from one another. He was looking at me, alternating between my eyes and my mouth and I could see some sort of internal struggle happening. I reached up and smoothed the little wrinkles between his brows with my thumb and then went further up to his hair, weaving my fingers between the dark silky strands. He leaned into my touch.

I wanted to forget everything else. I wanted to forget about Edward and Bella, about my shirt now sticking to me uncomfortably, about the past year and however many months that had thrown me into this constant swirl of emotional turmoil. And I wanted Emmett to be the one who erased all of it.

His eyes fluttered shut and then opened half way. His fingers dug into my knees. "Rosalie, I –"

He stopped talking as soon as my lips touched his hesitantly. I grazed them against his bottom lip, warm and soft, and then moved to his top, my nose brushing against his. I looked at him, questioning, not moving further but not backing away, and watched as the gold in his eyes ignited.

"Rose," he tried again, his warm breath washing over my face. It sounded like a warning, but his hand went to the back of my head, cradling and gripping.

I pressed my lips to his again, all hesitation gone, and he weaved his other arm around my waist, pulling me against him. From far away, I remembered that I was sitting on a toilet, that I had just been screaming at Edward a few minutes ago and then crying over him shortly thereafter, but then Emmett's mouth opened with mine and my mind went absolutely still.

It felt like we were colliding; lips, bodies, tongues. There was an explosion behind my eyelids, a burst of brilliant white light, and I let out a whimper or maybe a moan because I didn't know something so simple could feel so good. It was just his lips against mine, but it was more. It was his taste and smell, the feeling of his hand lightly grasping my hair, the hum of his groan when I took his bottom lip into my mouth, the solid strength of his chest crushed against mine. He was pulling me toward him like he couldn't get close enough. I couldn't. I needed and wanted and I didn't know if it would be enough, even as I wrapped my hand around his neck to get closer still.

His hum got stronger, louder and all of a sudden he was sitting back on his heels and my back was against the tank. Cool air rushed between the space where our entangled bodies had just been, but the goose bumps that had erupted over my skin shrank away instead of spreading further.

I stared at him dizzily, my chest heaving.

"What…" I trailed off, confused.

He looked at the door, shaking his head. His breath was uneven. He took several deep breaths before he responded. "Rosalie, I can't."

My blood ran cold. Those three words sounded dangerously like a rejection. "You can't?"

He flinched at the obvious anger in my voice. I stood unsteadily, my knees and legs weak from the alcohol and his touch, and lurched for the door.

"Hey, stop it," he said, standing to block my way.

"Get out of my way," I growled. My eyes started watering and I ducked my chin against my chest so that a curtain of hair hid my face from his view.

"Stop it," he repeated. "You don't get to run away from this until you've heard what I have to say."

"There's nothing for you to say, Emmett." My hand fumbled blindly for the doorknob. I had to inch closer and closer to him to find it, until the length of my body was pressed against his. Fuck, where was this thing?

"Look at me."

I shook my head, blinking furiously, my hand still reaching for the handle. It wasn't there. How could it have just disappeared? Jesus, what a pathetic metaphor for my life. I felt like I was constantly searching for something just out of my reach, or that just wasn't there in the first place.

His fingers gently gripped my chin and he pulled my face up until I was forced to look into his eyes. They were dark and sparking with frustration. I tried to shrink away but his arm wrapped around my back, securing me against him.

"Listen to me carefully," he stated. "Do you understand?"

I nodded silently, giving up.

"I'm not going to be the guy you use to get someone else out of your head." I started to protest, but he gave me a warning look. "I really like you, Rosalie. You're gorgeous and smart and tough. And you drive me fucking crazy sometimes." I let out a huff and one corner of his mouth pulled up for a split second before he continued. "I'm not going to be your second choice, okay? When – if – you do that again, I don't want to question whether it's because you want me or because you're trying to forget someone else."

I stared at him, stunned. He'd just laid me bare with that statement and I'd never been so ashamed in my life. I wanted to deny that what he said was true, but it would be a lie. He deserved so much better than that.

"That's the only reason I stopped," he continued. I closed my watering eyes, pressing my forehead against his chest. "It's not because I don't want you because god, I do."

"I'm sorry," I whispered in a shaky voice. I couldn't think of anything else to say and I didn't think any long-winded explanation would make it better. I'd used him, plain and simple. Had I wanted to kiss him? Yes. Regardless of how confused my mind and heart were, my body reacted to him without uncertainty. But he would need all of it, all of me, and I wasn't ready to give that to him. I'd known that and I'd done it anyway. I'd tried to erase my own pain and had hurt him instead.

He sighed into my hair. "I know."

We stood like that for a few long moments, my head against his chest, his hand making soothing circles over the small of my back.

Finally I stepped back, unable to meet his eyes. "Um, I'm just going to…" I trailed off, waving my arms uselessly in front of my soiled shirt.

"Hide?"

"What?"

He was smiling impishly when I finally looked at him, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Made you look." He jutted his chin toward the door. "You sure you don't want to come back out there with me?"

"Pretty sure." It'd be a miracle if I ever left this tiny room again. Maybe a hole would magically open up in the floor and swallow me.

Emmett nodded slowly and turned to the door – there was that fucking doorknob – before looking over his shoulder at me. His mouth was pursed. He looked like he wanted to say something. God knew I should, but it was all stuck deep inside me, buried beneath fear and regret and heartache. I really wanted to ask if we were okay, if he hated me for what I had just done. I wanted to know if I had ruined our friendship. But I didn't think I'd hear the answer I wanted him to give and I didn't want to hear the one I deserved. So instead I looked away and waited to hear the gentle click of the door as it closed behind him.

"Hey, Rose?"

I turned. Emmett was standing in the doorway, his hand braced against the doorframe.

"Yeah?" I asked, a little breathless and hopeful.

"I'll have that drink waiting for you when you're ready."

There it was, the olive branch that I wasn't worthy of, the unspoken confirmation that this wasn't going to ruin us. I pressed my fingers against the spot over my heart and was surprised to feel it still beating, and strongly at that.

"Thank you," I choked out, looking down so he wouldn't see the tears gathering in my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight. What a sorry sight I must have been.

The door closed this time and I made my way to the mirror again, barely able to look at myself. I was a sorry sight, my face tear-stained and flushed, my lips almost as dark as Edward's had been earlier.

"You idiot," I whispered in a choked voice. "Why can't you get over him?"

Not surprisingly, the sad girl looking back at me didn't have an answer, only tears.

Thanks to hmonster, lightstardusting and LoreliD for looking at this way back in the day. Future-take coming soon!