A/N: Convo between me and jfka06

jfka06: No way you make it till the end of the week before you post again.

Me: You doubt me?

jfka06: I doubt you'll make it until Tuesday.

Me: WILL OF STEEL.

Ahem. Suffice to say, jfka06 was right. Honestly, I'm a little overwhelmed at the response. 200 reviews for a 700 word prologue? GAH!

So thank you. I hope you'll enjoy the ride.

When he thought of Bella Swan when she wasn't standing right in front of him, Edward Cullen still pictured a very small six-year-old girl with knobby knees - usually skinned because she'd been trying to keep up with him - and wide, trusting brown eyes. It wasn't until she was standing right in front of him that he had to face the fact she'd grown up.

"Hey, little sister!" Emmett greeted, scooping her up and twirling her around.

"Em!" she shouted in protest, like she always did, but she held him tight and laughed as he put her down.

A low whistle echoed from beside Edward, momentarily distracting him from the scene. "The little one isn't your sister, is she?"

Edward grimaced, glancing over to where his friend and coworker, Jasper Whitlock, sat at his side. He sighed as Jasper snickered. A consummate charmer, the blond man had been warned not to mess with Bella. However, Bella hadn't come in the door alone.

"Neither of them are technically my sister," Edward finally answered. "But they are the same age."

"Legal. Excellent."

Edward rolled his eyes but his attention was quickly diverted when he realized Bella was looking at him.

The easy grin she wore for his brother rearranged itself into a tight lipped approximation of a smile. She nodded her head. "Hey, Edward. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I didn't expect to be here," he returned smoothly, his tone not betraying the tug of sadness at his heart. "This is Jasper, one of the execs at my firm."

"Jasper is thinking about using our backyard for a photoshoot," Esme said, walking in the door with Carlisle. Edward had to smile at the excited note in his mother's voice. She was bursting with pride.

"It's nice to meet you, Jasper," Bella greeted, grinning because no one who met Jasper could not grin when he smiled at them. "This is my roommate, Alice."

"Well, hello handsome," Alice greeted, all smiles as she gripped Jasper's hand. "And I guess we're not roommates anymore," she clarified. "I'm a free agent."

Edward caught Bella rolling her eyes and looked down at his feet to hide his grin.

She'd never had much patience for flirtation.

For a moment, as if she felt his eyes on her, Bella looked over at him again. They both froze for the space of a heartbeat, and he thought he saw the cool veneer she wore for him falter, letting warmth flood back into the pools of chocolate brown. Then she looked away, turning instead to her companion. "Come on, Alice. I'll show you the rooms. You can pick which one you like."

"Rooms?" Alice repeated, her voice loud even as they moved further away. "You have more than one guest room?" She snorted. "This house is huge..."

Edward watched the girls go, his heart giving a little twist.

Sometimes he thought he preferred to remember her as still six years old because she'd adored him then. She would gladly follow him anywhere. In fact, whenever she saw him leave, heading toward the forest where he liked to walk and think, she would come scurrying after him. Even though she frequently fell - her little legs no match for his long, strong ones - she never cried and never complained.

She did pepper their conversation with a million inquisitive questions, making him laugh and stumble over answers. When he lifted her onto his back and ran, she said she felt like they were flying. She hypothesized that surely he was the fastest person alive.

When she was six, he was her superhero.

But now she was 22, a freshly minted college grad, and it would take more than showing off his track skills to make her believe he was a superhero again. He'd settle for convincing her he wasn't an asshole, but she'd been able to smell his bullshit since she was at least 16 years old.

Of course, he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Hey, asshole."

Edward looked up, seeing that his elder brother was, for once, not smiling. He was scowling. At him, to be exact. Edward cocked his head, perplexed at Emmett's expression.

"Why the hell didn't you go to her graduation?"

Looking down, Edward twisted his lips, considering his answer. "I didn't think she'd want me there," he finally said, deciding honesty was the best policy in this particular case.

"Are you kidding me?" Emmett scoffed. "I think she asked Mom about you at least five times in my hearing range."

"I have a little sister. They say things like they don't want you around all the time," Jasper concurred. "They never mean it."

Edward's cheek twitched, the idea that he'd hurt her making his gut twist uncomfortably. "What can I say? I suppose I suck at being a big brother." He shook his head. "I'll make it up to her," he promised.

~0~

Bella sat cross-legged on her bed, looking around at the room that had been hers since her parents had died, leaving her to her mother's best friend, Esme.

It had undergone so many transformations.

When they had learned the worst case scenario had happened and Bella was to be left in their care, Carlisle and Esme had gone out of their way to make this room fit for a little princess. It was one of the first things Bella had haltingly admitted to Edward during their long walks.

She hated the princess stuff.

He'd asked her why she didn't just tell Carlisle and Esme this, and Bella had tearfully confessed her fear that if she wasn't the little girl her new guardians wanted her to be, they would give her away.

That very weekend, he'd bought a bunch of decals, redecorating her room with an old school Mario Bro's theme. He'd replaced her canopy bed with a racecar bed. She loved it. It was the first time since her parents died that she'd bounced in place like she was really six and not sixty.

And though the bedroom had changed as much as as she had over the years, she'd kept the shelves he made for her by hand - square shelves, a few of them closed off to look like the question mark blocks from the video game.

Bella stared at those shelves now, a sad smile on her face.

Edward had adored her once.

But she'd fucked that up good and proper a long time ago.

A knock on the door drew her thoughts out of the past. To her surprise, it was Edward standing in the doorway, his expression as passive as ever. "Can I come in?"

She nodded, automatically scooting backward to lean back against her headboard. He came to sit cross-legged in front of her, and Bella smirked, remembering playing cards with him when she was 10, 11, 12.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked, curious. A smile played at his lips that made her heart feel like a plane rearing for take-off.

"I was just remembering kicking your ass at rummy," she said quietly. In her room, it was harder to be aloof as she tried to be with him. How long had she been trying to show him she was grown up, grown past the foolish girl she'd been when they...

His smile broadened but only slightly. Still it was enough to make her blood feel warmer. "So you found a game you can actually beat me at, Swan. Don't get cocky." He wagged a finger in her face.

Laughing lightly, she stared down at her comforter, tracing the purple leaved branches with the pad of her finger. He sounded like his old self just then, the one who wasn't so uncomfortable and cold around her. She missed him. "So what did you want to talk about?"

"This is awkward," he said after a moment of silence. "It seems almost pompous for me to say I'm proud of you."

"Why do you think it's pompous?" she asked, cocking her head curiously. "I mean, everyone else has said it... unless you don't mean it."

"Of course I mean it," he said, his tone sincere. "MIT? That's quite an accomplishment, baby girl." He looked down, then back up from under his eyelashes. "I should have been there," he said with a decisive, displeased tone. "I just didn't think you'd want to see me, that's all. I know I haven't been as supportive as I could have been these last few years."

"By whose standards?" she asked. Bella shook her head. Edward had always been something of an enigma to her. Well, not always. There was a time when their relationship had been simple. At some point, something had changed. What that was, Bella was still at a loss as to explain.

She knew when the switchover had happened, though.

"Edward," she said with a sigh. "If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have even tried to get into MIT."

His face scrunched in confusion. "That was your dream, wasn't it?"

"Well, yes and no." She took a deep breath. The distance of years often muddled the sequence of events. "When I started looking into schools, I had a vague notion of a dream. And everyone kept putting me off because the degree I wanted would require a lot of math." Her smile was sardonic. "You remember how much I struggled with math."

He smirked. After everything went so fantastically wrong, it was the one thing that got them talking again. When she needed help with her math homework, it was his tutoring via gtalk or Skype that got her through it. "I seem to recall you had a question or two."

"Or twenty. A night." She rolled her eyes. "So I couldn't blame everyone when they thought that maybe I should rethink my educational path." Looking up at him, she smiled. "But you were the only one that never did. When I told you what I wanted to do, you sent me a list of the top five schools I should look at and why. You just seemed so certain I could do it - even if it would be hard."

"Most things worth doing are difficult," he said quietly. "It never occurred to me to doubt you. If that was what you wanted, I knew you were capable."

And because he knew, she believed, she thought but didn't say. "It was difficult. Still, I did it, and I think I made the right choice. You had everything to do with that."

Their silence then was not so awkward, but more comfortable. "Well, I should have been there to see you walk the stage."

"It's not that important," she lied. "It's just a silly ceremony."

"I should have been there," he argued. "I would have. It's just..."

"Look," she began hurriedly, blowing out a breath in a huff. Maybe it was the finality of finishing her Bachelors degree, but she was ready to right wrongs in her life, start fresh. "I know you've been... wary about seeing me since... since then. And I don't blame you. I know things have been weird for a long time. But I was a stupid kid then. A lot has changed - I've changed. I'm not going to... do that again. So if that's what you're worried about-"

"Bella," he said quickly, reaching across the space that separated them, putting his hand over her mouth.

For the space of a few breaths, Bella's heartbeat began to stutter.

She didn't know how long it had been since he'd touched her. Maybe it was as much as seven years, if she wasn't counting the stilted hugs the few times he'd been around at Christmas. She'd always assumed he did it more to keep Esme and Carlisle's worries at bay.

He seemed to catch the significance, his eyes holding hers. He let his hand drop slowly before he broke eye contact, staring out the window. For long moments, he was silent. "It's not you. It's never been you."

She waited, but he didn't seem inclined to explain further. "Is it so insurmountable?" she asked finally. She cringed because she'd feared the answer to this question for years. It was better to do this odd, circling dance they'd been doing than to lose him completely. He was her best friend, her confidant - the most important person in her life since almost before she could remember. That had never changed.

"Is what so insurmountable?" he asked, looking honestly confused.

"Can't we try to be friends again?" Her voice was quiet, and she struggled to make it not waiver. It felt strangely like her world would crumble if he put the final nail in the coffin of their relationship, as melodramatic as that sounded.

To her surprise, his eyes were wide, almost horrified. "Oh, Bella." He shook his head, chuckling nervously. "I never imagined you would interpret my attitude that way." He rubbed a hand over his chin, tracing the line of stubble - it had been some days since he'd shaved. She'd noticed that almost instantly when he walked in the door.

She still remembered the way that little bit of stubble felt, brushing against her cheek.

"To answer your question, of course we can be friends. I've never not been your friend," he said finally.

This cheered her considerably, and Bella sat up straight, smiling. "Good."

~Six Years Before~

She didn't want to be here.

Actually, the whole night had been a practice in strained patience and boredom. Her legs itched because she was sure stockings were made by the devil himself. Her face felt thick, matted as it was with too much makeup - though anything was too much makeup to Bella. Perhaps her dress should have made her feel like a princess or a grown woman - she'd gotten so many compliments - but it felt cumbersome. She felt more awkward than anything in it.

Why had she thought this was a good idea?

Bella had had no intention of going to prom at all. But then Edward had asked, and when he heard this, he began pestering her in that Edward-y way of his to go. He did that sometimes - when he sensed she was withdrawing from something he felt she should embrace.

It was her own fault. Once, she'd told him that it felt weird doing certain things her parents would have loved to have seen. Esme and Carlisle always told her 'your parents would be proud, your parents would have said this, or done that.' Sometimes, it made her feel guilty.

What was childhood without parents to treasure those moments?

Sometimes, she thought she shouldn't have told him, shouldn't have given him one more thing to worry about, but she'd long been in the habit of telling him everything.

Now that the day was here, Bella knew well and truly that her disinterest in Prom had nothing to do with her parents. It had not been a good night.

Edward had painted such a pretty picture for her, though. He told her there were only a certain number of days a woman - a woman - got to look and feel like a princess. He said on days like these, dresses hung perfectly, there was no tripping or clumsiness, and her date would be entirely attentive.

It wasn't the worst night of her life - though when she had the death of her parents in her past, that wasn't saying much - but it wasn't what Edward said it was going to be.

Then again, as she stared out the window of Tyler's car on the drive home, Bella had to admit that her disappointment may have stemmed from the fact that when she gave in to the picture Edward described, it was Edward himself she'd begun picturing in her head.

Tyler was not Edward. He wasn't a prick or anything like that, but he wasn't Edward.

He'd been appreciative enough of her dress - "damn baby, you look fine tonight" - he'd fetched her punch and held her hand. He'd wrapped his arm around her when they took pictures on entering and danced with her as often as she'd let him.

Right then, what Bella wanted most was for Tyler to shut up, but they were almost back home. She wasn't going to start being rude to him now just because she would have rather spent the night in someone else's company.

And really, Edward had spoiled her for the boys of Forks High School. Who had patience for their prattling about the latest music, television, or movie phenomenon? She and Edward had real discussions. Edward never treated her like she was a kid in high school, but like a peer who was absolutely capable of talking about topics her own peers couldn't care less about.

When she told him about tonight, he would probably chuckle and say something about it being just as well. "Wait until college," he'd told her often. "Boys in college are smarter. Well. Relatively, anyway."

Because it was impossible to be a high school girl and not think about boyfriends - or girlfriends, if one were so inclined - Bella had given some thought of late to what she might want in a significant other.

What she wanted was a boy - a man - just like Edward.

Tyler stopped the car, and Bella was relieved to see they were in front of her house. She reached for the door handle right away. Turning back, she was surprised to see Tyler's face was only inches from hers.

"I had a really good time tonight," he began, reaching across the console to lay his hand on her shoulder. He began to stroke her neck. It felt weird, but Bella didn't quite know how she was supposed to react.

"Um," she stumbled. "I did, too," she lied because it was the least she could do. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried to make her happy.

"That's good," he murmured, smiling. He leaned in.

And suddenly, Bella knew he was about to kiss her. In the fraction of a second she had between the action and when it happened, she considered whether or not this was what she wanted. When his lips touched hers, though, she closed her eyes, deciding to just go with the flow.

The motion of his lips moving along hers, urging her to respond, drew up an idle fantasy, and behind her closed eyelids, she found herself imagining there was someone very different in the car with her.

For just a minute, she was able to believe.

Then, she had to notice the little things.

In the photos she saw scattered on his Facebook - always uploaded by friends - he typically had a little bit of stubble, like he was always a day or two late to shave. Tyler's smooth, freshly shaved and baby soft skin didn't feel like she'd always imagined Edward's chin would feel, scraping along hers.

And there was the sharp, bitter taste of alcohol lingering on her own lips, marring what little enjoyment she could take from the kiss.

God, she was tipsy. Her head was thick. She didn't really want to be doing this.

Her hands on Tyler's chest, she pushed him away. "I... I... I have to go inside."

He gave her a look. "What? You said your parents weren't home."

"They're not my parents," she replied - an automatic response, ingrained over time.

"Whatever. They're not home, right?"

"Right," she hedged.

"Then don't worry so much about curfews." He grinned and leaned in to kiss her again.

Again, she pushed him back. "Goodnight, Tyler," she said shortly.

He looked confused and hurt. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," she replied, exasperated. "I just don't want to do this, okay?"

"Whoa, hey," Tyler said, putting his hands up. "I don't know what you're trying to say-"

"Oh, God. Good night, Tyler," she said again, her patience at an end.

He grabbed her arm when she tried to get out of the car. "No. Hey, listen. I just need to know what you mean, Bella. I don't want you spinning some story."

"You are making this a bigger deal than it has to be," she growled, yanking her arm back. Her head was spinning. The punch at the Prom had been spiked. She knew, of course, but she'd drunk anyway and now she was regretting it. It was putting an oddly emotional spin on everything.

"Just tell me-"

Tyler was cut off by a sharp rap on the window.

Bella was sure, for one moment, that she must be a lot drunker than she'd originally imagined. All night, she'd been picturing how much better things would be if Edward was there. Suddenly - though he was supposed to be many miles away - there he was.

She turned back to Tyler. "I've got to go," she repeated, getting out of the car before he could protest again.

A/N: Okay. For reals now, I'm not updating again until Notes is done.

Again, thanks so much for your kind words and your response. I hope I won't disappoint!