Welcome back, loves! Beta Iris here. Our beautiful Bled Dry is out of commission for a while due to an injury. She wanted to post this weekend, though, so here I am.

Bled Dry would like to thank Nic and Sri for their hard work and dedication. She'd also like to thank The Lemonade Stand for featuring If This... Then in yesterday's Sneak Peek feature. She sends her love and appreciation to you guys for all of your support.

Because of her injury, Bled Dry won't be able to reply to reviews as quickly as she normally does, but she'll get to them as soon as she can.

See you next weekend for Chapter 2. :)

Crush

-Smashing Pumpkins

You wrap your arms around

A feeling that surrounds

Like a liquid peppermint

December 24, 1992

It's Christmas, and I'm hiding out in my room.

Okay, not hiding, but I finally, FINALLY have Gish. I need that in my ears right now. My Aunt Siobhan got it for me. She told me about going into the record store and asking for the Smashing Melons. The guy asked her if she wanted the Smashing Pumpkins or Blind Melon. He finally figured it out when she told him she was looking for Fish. Poor guy. Siobhan's only twelve years older than I am, but suddenly, that seems so old. How does she not know this? She's still working on her PhD. I know about the Pumpkins because of college radio. What is she doing at school?

Oh! And I got a CD player.

And not just any CD player, but a six-change CD player.

It's been a good year. Charlie and Renee don't talk about it much, but I can tell. No one's called lately making threats. No mad rushes with Renee to drop off checks before the utilities get cut off.

Oh, yeah. And the presents under the tree went right out into the hall. Some of them I knew about, because Renee took me with her to try on all the clothes. She's watching my weight. I saw the looks when I put the size nines on the rack for the sevens. Then the fives. She hasn't said anything. When I get to a one, that's when she's worried, so I know when to stop shopping with her.

My phone's been ringing all day. Getting my own line was my first clue things were better money-wise. It was also when they started teasing me at lunch for being a rich girl.

I'm not. I'm so not, and they know it. Some of them. If they've been around long enough, they've watched the roller coaster. But we've merged groups somewhere along the way, the boys that wear kilts and the smart kids. I'm not sure when or how, but that's how it is now.

And it's those boys who make fun of me, which is bullshit. It's extra bullshit, because they date the West End girls, who live in almost-mansions and drive their own cars. Sure, I drive to school every day, but that's only because the 'rents are working together now and I get Renee's old car. And I can't tell if they're really making fun of me, 'cause they sure do seem to like their girls.

I don't know boys.

They used to make my skin crawl. But something's happening lately. I wouldn't say I'm over it. It's been two years, though, and things are better.

Edward Cullen touched my knee the other day. This thing's been going on lately with our group at lunch; we bunch our fingertips together so they're touching and put them on someone's knee. Then we slowly spread them out and see who gets the willies.

It didn't work on me until Edward did it.

I didn't get the willies. I don't know what that was, but I want more of that feeling. It was nice to have a guy touch me and not want to throw up.

But he has a girlfriend. She's a West. He's Jake's best friend, and they're dating best friends. It's kind of weird, though. None of us has ever met them. Like ever. They go on double dates, but they never bring them to just hang out with us. I'm guessing it's 'cause we're not the kind of friends you bring your girlfriends around.

My phone rings again, and I contemplate not answering it. I really just want to get lost with Billy Corgan for a while, and I don't want to talk about what I got anymore. Last year, I got a sweater. I don't know how to talk about this year, yet. Don't get me wrong. I mean, this is totally cool. But I worry about what's going to happen when they have to pay for all this stuff.

It's still ringing, and I decide to get up and see who it is. I have call display and call answer, so if I don't want to talk to them, they can leave a message.

Cullen, C.

Holy shit.

I knock my stereo picking up the phone and the CD skips.

"Hello." I'm a little breathless and so not cool. I'm reaching to turn down the music at the same time as I'm picking up the phone, and I drop the receiver.

I'm so. Not. Cool.

"Hello?" I question now, because he's probably hung up.

"Hey, is Bella there?" He sounds like Edward but different. A little more formal. Nervous? Probably because he thought someone was hanging up on him.

"This is Bella." I wince. Seriously?

"Hey."

"Hey," I echo.

"Hey."

This is fun. "Sorry about that. I was trying to turn down my CD player, and I dropped the phone..." I trail off because I wonder if he meant to call me.

"What were you listening to?"

"Gish." I'm trying so hard to be casual. Oh, God. Am I trying too hard? "My Aunt's visiting from college, and she got it for me."

"Cool."

There's a pause, and I'm not sure what to say. I can't think over the sound of my heart pounding. What's happening to me?

"I love that album. What song were you on?" He's talking again. Good. I can answer this.

"Ummm..." I reach to grab the CD cover, and my hands are shaking. Shaking! "Crush?" I say it like it's a question. I'm so glad he called me and we aren't having this conversation face to face, because I feel the red take over my face as I say it.

"That's my favorite. Hold on?"

"Okay."

There's a noise on the other end. "I'm going to put the phone down for a second. I'm not hanging up. Wait there, okay?"

"Okay."

I hear the same noise as before and then a few minutes of what I assume is him moving around his room before he picks up again.

"Hey."

"Hey," I reply. Oh, God. Not this again, I think.

"Okay. Go back to the beginning of the track and pause it, okay?"

"Okay." We sure seem to be saying 'okay' a lot. I guess that's twice the syllables of 'hey,' so we're getting somewhere.

"Press play on the count of three. One, two, three."

I do as he says, and I can hear the same song in the background on the other end of the phone.

"We'll listen to it together."

"Okay." I'm not sure what's happened to my vocabulary, but I lay back down with the phone pressed to my ear so I can hear it in almost-stereo.

We don't speak as we listen to the last half of the album together. When it's done, he tells me he has to go and hangs up as I'm saying goodbye.

This is the best day of my life.