A/N: Hey everyone, I haven't had any reviews or anything yet, but I'd be chuffed if you would, seriously. This is slightly lemony, just to warn you all.

Dinner with the Swans was as appalling as I thought it would be. Thankfully, it seemed like every student who had just graduated from Forks High was in attendance at the Lodge, so I had only to turn around in order to find someone else going through exactly the same ordeal. Knowing I'm not alone is incredibly relieving (although I doubt anyone else is facing mocking comments about their growing mustache).

Despite this, numerous thoughts of the long summer ahead of me, spent relaxing with Renee, before I took up a position in the local sheriff's office were necessary to get through the excessively long dinner (four courses, followed by coffee and mints were apparently essential), before I had a further horror to endure.

Graduation parties might be traditional, but only incessant pleading on Renee's part could induce me to attend one. Apparently we were all to head to Owen Connolly's house in order to celebrate. I wasn't looking forward to it, especially as parties never had, and I doubted ever would be, my thing. However, Renee wanted to go, and she wanted me to go with her. I knew I'd have to just grin and bear it.

I'd arranged to meet Renee at 8 outside her place and we'd go to the party from there. She was late, of course. Dear, sweet Renee. She's never been early for anything in her life as far as I can remember.

She came out of her house looking flustered, but stunning all the same, fifteen minutes later, and got into my rusty Citroen 2CV. She greeted me with a long, lingering kiss, leaning over the gearstick towards me, in order to twine her hands into my brown curls. I reciprocated eagerly, intensifying our kiss and sliding my hands under her shirt, up to her bra. I heard her murmur something that sounded like 'naughty', but she made no attempt to stop me, so as she began to kiss my neck, I carefully slid my hands under her bra to cup her breasts. Meanwhile she, giving a soft moan of pleasure, slid her own hands up the back of my shirt, digging her fingernails in in an attempt to bring me closer.

With a twinge of regret, I extricated myself from Renee, telling her that we should get going, or we'd miss the party and she reluctantly settled back into her seat, before strapping her seatbelt on.