A/N - These first few chapters are going to be a build up to the events of February/March that are hinted at in the prologue, and then that is where the real story begins.

Also, thank you to my reviewers so far, you guys really do make my day.

Hope you like this one!


Two

November

"Sweet Lord above, Jasper Hale, are you gonna chew at all or are you gonna keep shovelin' that stuff down your throat like someone's about ta steal it off ya?" Gramma stands in the kitchen doorway, her hands braced on her wide hips and her expression fierce as a storm cloud, as mama likes to say.

I force myself to chew the bacon and grits she's set down in front of me, making a real big show of it. Gramma watches my performance with pursed lips, but she doesn't comment any further. That's alright by me.

At just over sixty-five, Gramma has the energy of a thirty-year-old and the kinda glare a good, God-fearin' woman should have to keep her grandchildren in line and make them show up for church on Sundays.

She'd come visiting me, Mama and Rosalie from Charleston, South Carolina, about a year ago after my dad died, and just hadn't left. I doubt she even remembers her own address, anyhow.

Just then, Rosalie comes swanning into the kitchen. She pulls a face at my greasy breakfast, and sashays her way over to the fridge – I'm not sure exactly what 'sashay' means; all I know is that Rosie does it. Pulling out a bottle of water and a grapefruit slice, she plates up her pathetic excuse for the most important meal of the day and pulls out a chair at the table.

"Now, what've I been tellin' you about eatin' right, Rosalie Louise Hale?" Gramma demands, eyeing Rosie's grapefruit askance. "How you gonna start your school day with any energy livin' offa that nonsense?"

I bite my lip to hide my smile as Rose tosses her long blonde hair over one shoulder and fixes Gramma with a Look. I swear that Look is somethin' that all the Whitlock women have in common – even if Rose is technically a Hale, she still counts. Our mama does it. Gramma does it. Even Great-Gramma Lou had done it, from what I remember.

"She don't eat enough to keep a damn squirrel alive, Gramma," I point out. "It don't exactly matter what you say to her. She ain't gonna change."

Rosie turns the Look on me, now, and I do my best to look like I'm not intimidated.

I don't think I manage all that well, because she smirks at me in satisfaction and returns to nibbling on her grapefruit.

"I have to keep my meals light so I can stay on the cheerleadin' squad," Rosie informs us tersely. "It's not like I can afford to put on a couple pounds."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. My sister is skinny as a rake, and she seems to be the only person in the whole fuckin' universe who doesn't realize that.

We finish our respective breakfasts in silence, and Gramma shoos us out the door while I'm still trying to gulp down the last of my coffee. Since Rose has a driver's license but no car, she has to ride with me to school, something that I never hear the end of her bitchin' about.

Today, it's the radio she seems to be taking issue with. She twiddles the dials, growling in frustration at my spotty reception. My Dodge is about as ancient as the pyramids, and I can't tell what's paintwork and what's rust anymore, but I can get from A to B without needing to get out and push start the ol' girl too often.

"You really need a new car, Jasper," Rose grumbles, slamming her shiny pink manicured hand against the dash when the radio still won't tune in properly. "This thing is a piece of shit."

"Hey now," I caution. "If you feel that way, I can always pull over and you can walk your skinny ass to school from here."

She scowls, but doesn't test me. "Emmett's comin' over tonight, so you're gonna have to give him a ride home from school, too."

I frown at her reproachfully. Emmett is my teammate and one of my best friends, unfortunately, he's also my kid sister's boyfriend, and I can never decide whether seeing the two of them making out in my backseat makes me wanna throw up or hit something. Usually both.

"Fine. But one of you has to ride shotgun, and you best keep your hands to yourselves until you're both shut up in your bedroom or whatever. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah," Rose rolls her eyes. She's used to this speech from me. It's a biweekly occurrence. You'd think, having heard it so often, she'd have taken it on board by now. No such joy.

I pull into the school parking lot and slide into a space right next to a shiny silver Volvo. Immediately, I spot the owner. He's leaning against the hood, waiting for me to get out, bag crossed over one shoulder and hands in his pockets.

Rosalie spots him, too, and gives the Volvo a wistful look. "I don't see why we can't both just hitch a ride to school with Edward, anyhow," she grumbles. "It's not like our house isn't on the way for him."

"Because," I say, and I unsuccessfully attempt to open my driver's side door. It's stuck again. I throw my shoulder against it and it springs free with an ominous groaning sound. Rose swings herself out of her side, stooping down to pick up her bag from the floorboard. "I've got a car."

"If you want to call that rust bucket a car, then I suppose you do. In the loosest possible definition of the term." It's Edward who speaks, his tone light and teasing.

I turn to give him a mock glare and slam the car door shut so hard that the whole thing rocks. It's not like I can do much more damage to the ol' girl anyhow. The suspension's already fucked. "Leave Bessie alone, Cullen. Or at least don't call her names right in front of her."

"She's so old, she's probably deaf anyway," he shrugs. He then ropes an arm around Rosalie, who giggles. "Don't worry, princess, I'll come and pick you up from now on. We've got your street cred on the line, here."

Ever since that party at Mike Newton's a month back, Edward and I have been pretty near inseparable. He came over to my house for the first time a week later, and instantly charmed the fucking pants off my entire family. Well, not my entire family, because Tanya and Kate, our two older sisters, are both away at college, so they haven't actually met him.

But Gramma, Mama and Rose? They worship him like he shits gold and bleeds wine.

I honestly don't know how he does it, but his ability to charm women is a totally wasted talent. I might get him to teach me a couple tricks.

"See, Jasper?" Rose says, reaching behind Edward's back to prod me with one long fingernail as we walk towards the school building. "Edward doesn't mind. He wants to drive us from now on."

"Only to save you the embarrassment of showing up in that thing," Edward smirks, and I punch him on the shoulder.

"Shut up, man."

He sticks his tongue out at me, and the sunlight glints off the metal stud embedded there. I laugh, rolling my eyes, because he's just so damn childish sometimes that it's real hard to take him seriously.

"By the way, I was meaning to ask you both if you wanted to come over to mine this evening. My dad wants to celebrate Guy Fawkes'."

"He wants to celebrate what now?" My nose wrinkles in confusion. I glance at Rosie to see if I'm just being dense, but she looks equally nonplussed.

Edward grins. "It's a British thing. Bonfire night. We do it every year. We light up a bonfire in the backyard and then set off a bunch of fireworks. It sounds lame, but it's actually pretty fun."

"I don't think it sounds lame," Rosalie answers immediately, her deep purple-blue eyes lighting up like Christmas trees. "I love fireworks!"

I do, too, but I don't get as worked up about everything as she does, so I just nod. "Sure, I'm in."

"Good. My mom keeps begging me to introduce her to my friends, anyway. Bring Bella, and Emmett, if you want."

I have to admit, I'm pretty curious about Edward's family. Even though my mama's about ready to declare him her second son, I've actually never met his parents. Or his little sister, Maggie. I know that his mama works in interior design and his dad is Chief of Surgery at the hospital in Corsicana, but that's about all I know.

It'll be kinda cool to unravel some of the mystery surrounding him.

As we enter the busy hallway, Rosalie ducks out from under Edward's arm as she spies Bella further down by her locker. She dashes away, no doubt to tell her about our new plans for the evening, and I turn to Edward.

"What's Guy Fawkes?"

He chuckles. "It's not a 'what', Jazz, it's a 'who'. He was this guy who, back in 1605, was part of an assassination attempt to blow up the Houses of Parliament using gunpowder and kill King James I so that they could get a catholic monarch on the throne again. The gunpowder plotters were caught right before they could actually go through with it – in the early hours of the morning on November 5th, which is why…" He trails off, looking real amused by the earnestly interested expression on my face. "You really eat this stuff up, don't you?"

"What do you mean?" I frown. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No. Not at all. I guess you weren't kidding about loving European history, huh?"

I shake my head. I feel kinda embarrassed all of a sudden. "You think I'm a total freak, don't 'cha?"

Edward raises one eyebrow at me. "You're asking me, the guy who likes boys and draws on himself in marker pen, if I think you are a freak?" He snickers. "I'm pretty sure I must've taken a wrong turn on the drive to school without noticing, cuz I think I'm in Bizarro-world."

I chuckle. And, just like that, I don't feel awkward or self-conscious anymore. Edward has a way of doing that – he just kind of calls things as he sees them, and the frank and often self-deprecating honesty never fails to make me feel better. He doesn't reassure me, or stroke my ego, like all the girls would. He doesn't wave it off or tear me down like my teammates would. He just gives me his perspective on stuff and then waits for me to snap myself out of whatever's got me in knots. I've noticed him doing it a lot this past month.

And I'm grateful.

"Hey," I begin, as we reach my locker. Edward leans against the side of the locker next to it as I twist the combination lock and gather up my books. "Would you think I was totally lame if I said that I'm kinda lookin' forward to meetin' your folks?"

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "No. I don't think that's lame. Why so keen, though? Most people don't really give a shit about their friends' parents."

"Well…" I consider the question, tilting my head as I think of the right response. "I'm kinda intrigued by them. I mean, they've got these wicked cool jobs, and your dad is English, ain't he, so I bet he's gonna be real interestin' to talk to. I like learnin' about new places and stuff."

"I've noticed," Edward says dryly. "But yeah, I mean, they're cool. You'll like them. It's just…" He grimaces slightly. "They're really… well, kind of embarrassing, sometimes. Which is why you haven't met them yet."

"Everyone's folks are embarrassin', Ed," I point out. "I mean, you've met my mama, right?"

"Your mom isn't embarrassing. She's awesome."

"Of course you think that." I slam my locker shut again, and we resume walking down the hallway towards his. "She's not your mama, so you find her funny. Me, on the other hand? Sometimes she says stuff around people that just makes me wanna crawl in a hole and die." I shudder. "How come your folks make you cringe, anyhow?"

"It's more my mom than my dad," he muses. "She makes such a fuss, sometimes. And she's just about bursting with gay pride. When I came out to her, I swear, she practically threw me my own parade. She signed up to join some gay rights group the next day. She totally gushes over me."

Edward's blushing slightly, and I can totally get why, even though I think the fact that his mama's so proud of him is kinda cute. If any of the kids round here were gay, I doubt their folks would be so accepting.

"I think that's kinda nice."

He rolls his eyes. "You would, wouldn't you?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?" We stop at his locker, and this time, I'm the one that leans up against the side as he sorts his shit out. I study his face in profile, and he's wearing that crooked smirk that he always does when he's about to say something snarky.

He doesn't disappoint. "You spend your days giving out the verbal equivalent of a free hug to everyone you talk to."

"I don't do that."

Edward extracts a book from the top shelf of his locker. When he lifts his arm, the hem of his shirt rides up, and I catch a glimpse of another tattoo on his hip. I wonder how many he has. I've never actually asked. "You do, too."

"Well… so, what? I'm nice."

"You're too damn nice. It's superhuman. Nobody likes everyone." He slams the locker shut, and then leans against it, facing me. "Except… you really do, don't you? You don't actually have a problem with anyone." He shakes his head in disbelief.

"I dunno. You're kinda pissin' me off right now…" I mutter. Edward laughs.

"Yeah, but I've got a talent for it." He considers. "Can you believe that Bella called me 'bitchy' the other day?"

I snicker. "She's not wrong."

The warning bell blares out along the hallway, and I peel myself away from the lockers as we set off towards first period. Edward and I are both in the same Biology class.

"Being 'bitchy' is a trait exclusive to girls, Jazz. Name one instance where I've been bitchy. I bet you can't."

"Yesterday," I say immediately. "When Newton walked into the diner and you turned to me and said 'Look at the state of him. Did he get dressed in the dark or something?'"

"Did I say that?" Edward smirks. I don't dignify his question with an answer, because he knows damn well he did. "Huh. I guess I am kind of a bitch."

"Probably why you get on so well with Rosalie," I reason, and he smacks me across the back of the head. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Being mean about your sister."

I arch an eyebrow at him. "Thought you said I was too nice?"

"You are too nice. But let's keep it that way. I'm apparently a bitch, so hanging out with you, Mr. Congeniality, can only improve my image." He adopts the most ridiculously girly expression, clapping one hand to his heart dramatically. His voice goes up about three octaves as he jokes, "I mean you're, like, the most popular guy in school!"

I crack up at his ridiculousness. "You're such an ass."

"Comedy value, man. That's why you keep me around."

We've just reached the biology lab. He winks at me, grinning, and ducks through the door. I follow, still fighting back a smile.


I arrive at Edward's place last out of the group, because Bessie refused to start up, and I had to wait until Mom got home so that I could borrow her car. Rose – who went to Bella's after school – Bella, and Emmett are all already inside, if the Chevy truck and the Wrangler parked on Edward's massive drive are any indication.

His house is fucking huge. It's like one of the old plantation houses, set right back from the road on the outskirts of town. There's a wraparound porch, and the whole thing is painted white. Roses climb up a trellis attached to the side, giving it an explosion of color.

It's both intimidating and beautiful.

I take the steps up to his front door, feeling kinda nervous for no reason I can explain. I raise my fist to knock, but before I have a chance, it's thrown wide open – thankfully, it opens inwards – and I find myself looking down into the face of possibly the cutest little kid I've ever seen.

She blinks huge gray eyes up at me and smiles shyly. "Hi."

"Hey there, darlin'. You must be Maggie." She blushes and nods, auburn curls bouncing with the movement. "I'm Jasper."

"I know," she murmurs. "Teddy talks about you all the time."

Aww. I can't decide what's nicer to hear – the fact that Edward speaks about me, or the fact that Maggie calls him 'Teddy'.

She steps back, and I cross the threshold into the cool, light foyer. It's the same pale color scheme as the outside of the house, looking light and airy and ultra modern compared to my stuffy, homey country house.

Maggie slides her hand into mine – an action that sorta makes me want to melt inside. "C'mon, Jasper. Everybody is outside on the deck."

I let her tow me into a palatial living room, but I don't get to stop and check out my surroundings, because she tugs me – with disproportionate strength, might I add – to a set of french doors leading out onto a wide deck. My eyes widen when I see the perfectly landscaped garden beyond, complete with pond and water feature. There's a hot tub on one end of the decking we're standing on, and on the other, there's a large, square table. My friends are grouped around one end, lounging back in chairs and clutching cans of soda. Rosalie, I notice, is perched on Emmett's lap. I narrow my eyes at her as Maggie and I approach.

Edward has his back to me as he argues good-naturedly with Bella about something, and I can't resist creeping up behind him and resting my elbows on the back of his chair.

"Hey, Teddy," I say slyly, and his back stiffens. He turns around to face me slowly, pausing to shoot Maggie a reproachful glance. She shrugs, and in a gesture that's uncannily similar to her big brother, sticks her tongue out at him.

"You're gonna call me that until the end of time now, aren't you?" he groans at me.

"You bet your ass I am."

"Great. Just fantastic." He leans back against the chair, looks at me upside down for a second, and then closes his eyes despairingly.

"Oh, c'mon Teddy, don't sulk," I tease, poking him in the forehead.

Bella's eyes flicker from Edward's face to mine, and she grins at our banter. Maggie, who had been hovering on the periphery of the group since I let go of her hand, skips over to Bella's seat and squeezes herself into the space beside her. Bella, like me, seems completely enamored by her, and instantly shuffles over to make room.

"Ah, I see our last guest has arrived."

I turn at the sound of a deep English accent, to find Edward's father standing just behind me. Even if the accent hadn't been an instant tip-off, I'd have known who this guy was anywhere.

Turns out that Edward is a dead ringer for his dad. It's weird, because their coloring is completely different. Dr. Cullen is blond, and his eyes are gray like Maggie's, but he and his son have almost the exact same face. I blink in astonishment as he gives me a very Edward-like grin and extends his hand.

"I'm Carlisle, Edward's dad. And you, I take it, are Jasper?"

I shake his hand, wondering exactly what Edward must've told his family about me that meant they'd all be able to identify me on sight. "Yes, sir."

He chuckles lightly. "Good grief, even the teenagers around here are polite. Are you thirsty?"

"Yeah, I could use a drink, thanks. What've you got?"

"Coke," Edward is the one who answers. "Or ginger beer."

He cranes his neck towards the open kitchen window and hollers, "Esme! When you're coming out, can you grab Jasper a coke?"

A woman's voice calls back in the affirmative, and, a second later, Edward's mama steps out onto the deck.

Edward's coloring is immediately explainable, because she has the same copper hair as her children, long and loosely curly like Maggie's. Eyes the same bright green as Edward's soften as soon as they land on me, and she makes her way over, pressing a cold can of soda into my hand.

"Jasper, I'm Esme. Welcome to our home."

"Thank you for invitin' me, ma'am. This place is unreal."

She beams at me, showing off two deep dimples. "I'm glad you like it."

"Like it? It's like somethin' out of a magazine! It's incredible." I tilt my head, admiring the garden view over her shoulder. "Edward says you're an interior designer… did you do the designs for this place yourself?"

Esme looks utterly enchanted. "Oh, well, yes, actually. I tried my hand at the landscaping design as well, but I'm not sure that I'm quite up to the challenge."

"I have to disagree there, ma'am. I think you've done a wonderful job."

She surprises me then by reaching up and patting me on the cheek. "Oh, you are a charmer," she laughs. "You can come back any day." She looks over at Edward, who is kicking back in his chair, watching us both with a sort of amused resignation. "And you can come and help me bring out the food, Ted."

Rolling his eyes, Edward gets to his feet in one smooth motion and follows his mama as she disappears back into the kitchen. On the way past me, he gives me a playful shove.

"Hey!" I protest.

"Kiss-ass," he laughs. "I saw you trying to butter my mom up."

"Yeah, Jasper, nobody likes a suck-up," Emmett chortles. "Though, to be fair, I kinda wanna get on Esme's good side as well."

"She has that effect on people," Carlisle puts in. He's sitting in one of the chairs, and Maggie is now curled up on his lap, apparently having abandoned Bella. She looks like she's about to doze off. "It makes it difficult to argue with her." He drains the beer he's holding. "I'll be back in a second; I just need to grab a refill."

Because the need to be mannerly is so deeply ingrained in my psyche – and partly because I can't bear to disturb Maggie – I immediately jump to attention. "Oh, no, I'll go and grab you another one. You don't need to get up."

Carlisle smiles gratefully at me and nods. Emmett makes sucking noises at me. I flip him off when I'm sure Maggie isn't watching, which causes the girls to laugh.

I head back into the house, and I'm just about level with the kitchen door when I hear my own name.

"… you and Jasper?"

"No, Mom." Edward sounds kinda frustrated. "There's nothing."

"Why not? He's very handsome…"

I grin. Esme calling me handsome is the highlight of my day. Then I realize the implication behind what she's saying and I suck in a surprised breath.

"Yeah, Mom, but he's straight, so there's no point in you picking out china patterns for us or anything."

My hand comes up to my mouth in an effort to hold back the laugh that threatens to leak out. Even in a conversation as awkward as this one, he still manages to make snarky jokes.

"Oh. Well, that's a pity. You two would've certainly looked good together."

Edward groans audibly. "Mother, can you stop? Please?"

"Can't a mom express disappointment? I mean, honey, don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that you have such good friends so quickly after moving here, but I hoped you'd get lucky and find a nice boy to date, too. And, considering that you haven't shut up about him for a month, I just figured that maybe Jasper was…" She breaks off, and sighs. I instantly wonder what's made her so sad. I'm not left wondering long. "Oh, honey. Teddy, I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"It really sucks," Edward mumbles, and his voice is muffled, like he's speaking through material or something. "Whatever. I'll get over it."

"Yes, you will. But honey, before you do… are you sure he isn't?"

"Pretty sure, Mom, yeah."

I hot-foot it away from the door and back around the corner as I hear movement inside. A few seconds later, Edward appears, looking just as calm and collected as he had a few minutes ago. I try to pretend like I haven't heard anything unusual.

"Hey, man, your dad wants another beer, and I ain't too sure where to…?"

Edward tuts at me. "You sucking up again, Jazz?" I see the humor dancing in his green irises as they meet mine, and then he freezes. "Why are your eyes all weird?"

"What?" I frown. "No, they ain't…"

"Yeah, they are, actually. You look like you've just seen a… oh, holy shit. You were eavesdropping." The words aren't a question. He knows. His shoulders sag, and all the air seems to leave his lungs.

I catch and hold his gaze, hoping he'll pick up on the fact that I'm trying to have one of our 'conversations'. It's too uncomfortable a topic to discuss aloud.

I couldn't help myself, I try to say. I heard my name.

Edward flicks his eyes skywards. Duh. It's alright, I get it.

I don't mind, I say. We're still cool.

Edward just peers at me through narrowed, suspicious eyes for a long, long time before they widen and he gives me the tiniest of smiles. Okay, he seems to say, Let's just forget this ever happened.

I shoot him a questioning look that can't quite mask the mischievous sparkle behind my eyes.

Forget that what happened? I play dumb.

For a moment, I'm worried that he'll start to feel uncomfortable around me. That he won't want to be my friend.

The thought makes my heart freeze over.

Then he laughs, and reaches over to muss my hair before heading back out to the others. I stare after him for a few moments, trying to collect my thoughts.

He's got a thing for me. Huh.

He's good at pretending otherwise. I'd never have suspected, not until I heard it with my own ears. But then, maybe that was just me being real dense.

Nah, I don't think that's true, because none of the others suspect his crush.

Crush. Huh. Edward Cullen has a crush on me.

Well, that's a weird thought. And it may be totally egotistical and unbelievably selfish of me to admit this, but part of me really likes the fact that Edward is into me. Because it means that he'll stick around, at least for a while longer.

I walk back outside, and claim the seat next to Edward. He glances over at me with trepidation, so I focus on grinning at him, almost willing my thoughts to permeate his consciousness. I don't care if you're crushing on me, you're not going to stop being my friend.

His expression clears into one of utmost relief, and he's actually able to relax enough now to throw his head back and bellow with laughter at the next thing Emmett says. He responds to the comment with some scathing retort that sets them both off laughing again. Even I have a grin on my face as I take in the wicked sparkle in his green eyes.

He's biting his tongue bar again. I open my mouth to chide him, as I often do, because it'll strip away the enamel of his teeth if he keeps doing that.

Then I decide just to let him be, because there's something about that piercing that intrigues me. He runs one hand through his coppery hair and decides to appeal to me about whatever good-natured argument he and Em are having.

"What do you think?" he asks. His eyes are alight and hopeful.

"I… uh… agree with you."

Edward cocks an eyebrow. "You're a moron, Hale. I was asking what time we should think about building the bonfire."

"Oh." I blush in embarrassment. "I wasn't really listening, sorry."

"No shit, Sherlock." He chuckles lowly and then – what else? – smirks his crooked smirk.


Carlisle's setting up the fireworks at the other end of the garden, just visible in the flickering light of the roaring bonfire beside him. The whole thing looks pretty impressive; Carlisle and Esme really go all out. Bella and Rosalie are ooh-ing and aah-ing, clutching sparklers and staring, wide-eyed into the sky as the first one is lit, and it races into the sky to explode in a shower of color against the blackness. Emmett has been dancing some weird, tribal-looking dance around the bonfire for the last twenty minutes that has me in stitches, but he stops when the display starts, capitalizing on everyone else's distraction by pulling my sister to him and starting to make out with her.

Edward and I have opted to stand on the deck for a better view, and I catch the two of them kissing out of the corner of my eye.

"Oh, man, seriously?" I mutter, and my pissed off tone momentarily distracts Edward from the showers of sparks overhead.

He turns to me just as a firework goes off, bathing his previously shadowed face in a pinkish glow. "What's up?"

"Emmett has his tongue down my baby sister's throat," I say with a shudder.

"And that's a problem?"

"It's just not somethin' I wanna see."

"Then don't look."

My eyebrows lift. "It's that simple, is it?"

"Here's the thing, Jazz," he sighs. Leaning against the rail on his forearms, he glances out at Rose and Emmett, and then returns his gaze to me. "D'you have any idea what it's like to feel disapproving or disgusted stares on you when you're making out with someone you like?"

I shake my head. "No, I guess not."

"I do," he whispers. "And it fucking sucks. People should be free to express their love or affection for each other whenever or wherever they want. You know, within reason. And anyone who has a problem with it just… should look away. Because it's none of their damn business."

My heart clenches painfully as the echo of some past emotion flits across Edward's face. Just for a moment, I see beneath the laconic smile and the snappy retorts, and he looks utterly, heartbreakingly vulnerable. Something catches in my throat.

"I didn't mean you, Edward," I murmur. "I don't have a problem with… any of that stuff. It's just my little sister."

"The principle still applies," he says, but now, at least, he sounds more like his usual self. "Don't like it? Don't look."

"When did you become some Zen master givin' me life lessons?" I tease.

I smile. He smiles back. Then his falters slightly. "Um, Jasper?"

"Yeah?"

"About… about what you overheard earlier…" His cheeks are bright red. I can see it through the darkness. Hell, I can practically feel the heat coming off them.

"Don't worry about it," I wave it off.

"No, I just…" He takes a deep breath. "I just wanted you to know that I will get over it. Eventually. I promise. So I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't start avoiding me or anything, because you're my best friend here and that would really suck."

I feel a rush of warmth go through me as I hear him call me his best friend, and I can't help but grin into the darkness. I nudge him with my shoulder. "C'mon, Teddy, as if I'd avoid you. I'm a good-lookin' guy. Frankly, I'd be insulted if you didn't feel that way."

He laughs, deep and genuine. Shakes his head at me. "Jackass."

"Yeah," I say slyly, "but you love it."

I wink. He tuts and rolls his eyes. "You're so damn full of yourself."

"Well, you're only addin' to the ego, Cullen, by thinkin' I'm dead sexy," I joke.

He jabs me in the ribs. "You know what? Keep talking like this, because if you do, I'll be over it in no time."

I jab him back. "Oh, very nice!"

A few more jabs are exchanged, until we both burst out laughing, hanging onto the rail and each other for balance as we double over. When we eventually straighten up, I realize something. The others are heading back across the grass towards us, chatting enthusiastically, Esme carrying a sleepy Maggie.

It's over.

And I completely missed the fireworks.