So it's been a bit of a break since the last chapter, but the good news is that I have several chapters written now, so the updates should be more frequent like they were in the beginning.

Hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving! And thanks as always to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, etc. Since I have so much written, everyone who reviews will get a preview of the next chapter.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight.


Chapter Seven.

"Stop moping and get out of bed," Alice demands, in her chirpy voice, standing at the foot of her older brother's bed.

Edward, buried under pillows and blankets, groans. "Go away, Alice."

"All you do is lay around in bed," she says, unwilling to let this go.

He sighs and rolls over onto his back, glancing up at her. "So what."

"You don't see Bella Swan laying around all day everyday, and Tanya was her sister."

The mention of Tanya makes him flinch, and he sighs, running his hands over his eyes and then through his messy bronze hair. His thoughts drift to Bella then, and he thinks about their late night coffee. That was the best-and the only good thing-to have happened since Tanya's death.

He knows Alice is right. Bella has been up and active. But no two people are the same. People grieve differently. And Bella's way seems to be getting up and hanging out. Getting her mind off of it. She seems pleasantly numb to what's going on, and he wishes that he could be the same way. His nature is different though. Her's is to try to keep moving forward. Edward's is too lay around and feel sorry for all that's happened until he's finally able to shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

But Alice has a point, and with another sigh he gets to his feet, pushing away his blankets. "Happy now?"

Alice nods pleasantly. "Very! I'll see you downstairs."

He rolls his eyes as she leaves his room. He goes over to his dresser and changes into jeans and a black fitted t-shirt. He runs a hand absently through his hair instead of combing it, as he grabs his toothbrush. Feeling somewhat more human he wanders out into the hallway, down the stairs, and to the kitchen where his parents and Alice are eating lunch.

Carlisle and Esme look up, surprised to see their son up and moving. He's definitely been missing in action the past two days. Ever since Bella came over to eat. They don't know what it is, and he doesn't know what it is either. He had been feeling okay before that, but when he got home he felt depressed and tired and sore and had just gone to bed where aside from coffee with Bella the other night, he has remained. Maybe it was seeing the Swan house. Maybe it was Mike Newton, maybe it was the fresh air. He doesn't know.

"Good afternoon," Esme says brightly, standing up. "Want a sandwich?"

He hasn't eaten much, and his stomach growls loudly to make sure he remembers that. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good."

Esme is beaming brightly as she goes to the counter and makes a sandwich for her son, which she sets in front of him a moment later.

He takes it from her with a mumbled thanks and takes a bite.

"What's the plan for today?" Carlisle asks carefully.

Edward takes another bite and shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I could go see if anyone wants to hang out." Truthfully he wants to go spend time with Bella. She's the only person that still likes him, that is willing to spend time with him. She is there, unjudging and unwavering, making her his favorite person right now.

But hanging out with Bella isn't as easy said and done. He can't exactly walk over, knock on the door amd ask if Bella's around to hang out for a while.

Yeah, definitely wouldn't work out. He decides to call her when he's finished eating. He eats faster now, devouring the sandwich in record time and then grabs his soda, washing it all done. "I've got a call to make," he tries to explain to his parents, who are watching him closely.

He can tell his parents are dying to ask him who he's calling, but he ignores their expectant, curious stares and carries his plate to the sink. He heads back up the stairs and grabs his cell phone, where he promptly dials Bella Swan's number.

She picks up on the third ring. She sounds tired. More so than usual. "Hello?"

"Bella? Hey."

"Edward? What's up?"

He sits down on his bed and runs a hand through his bronze hair. "Um, nothing. Are you busy?"

"Nope. No."

"Do you want to...do something?"

There's a pause on her end. "Like what?"

He doesn't know. He hasn't thought that far ahead. "You can come over here, and hang out if you want. Or we can go somewhere and hang out. I just..." He trails off, unsure of what he wants to say or how to say it.

"I know," she says in a soft voice, and he feels like she truly understands. "I'll be over in a few minutes."

"Great. See you then, Bella." She murmurs a good-bye too, and he hangs up his phone, shutting it and tosses it on the bed. He leans back against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling. He's really not sure why he needs Bella the way he does. But regardless, he does need her.

Fifteen minutes later there is a knock on the door, and he rushes to answer it, jumping up from the couch where he has been waiting for her. He opens the door and she's standing there with a pensive expression. She's not wearing any makeup and there are black circles under her eyes. Her hair is messier than usual and she's wearing plain jeans and a black shirt two sizes too big. She looks even more tired than Edward feels.

"Hey."

"Hey," she replies, brushing her hair out of her face and behind her ears.

He feels guilty for asking her over, and really hopes that she hadn't been sleeping or something when he called. "Are you okay?"

She swallows and shrugs her tiny shoulders. "Are you?"

He shrugs as well, and they both stare at each other for a moment, silence hanging heavy between them.

"Come on," he says finally, turning and walking towards the hall.

She shrugs to herself and follows him down the hall and into his bedroom.

It's blue and black and reminds her of him. It smells like him.

He sits down on a black couch, and she sits down cautiously on the other side of the couch, not feeling terribly comfortable. She likes being his friend. She feels like he is the only person she has right now. She just wishes he hadn't been Tanya's boyfriend. It makes things too complicated.

Her brown eyes roam the room, and finally fall on the open closet, the wrapped present sitting on the shelf where he had left it. "You didn't open it."

He looks confused for a minute, and follows her glance. "No."

"Why not?" she asks, genuinely curious. She probably would have opened it.

He shrugs. "I don't know. I just can't. Maybe I can someday. But not yet."

She nods, brushing her hair out of her eyes again. "Okay."

"Have you been sleeping?" he asks her.

"Sort of. I have been, I mean. Until last night," she tells him honestly. She doesn't see the point in lying to Edward, or to anyone really. Lying gets her no where, and life is too short not to let people know the truth.

"What happened last night?"

She bits her lip, turning to study Edward's face carefully. Lying and holding things back are two different things, and she's unsure of how much to tell him.

In return he watches her carefully, wondering why she looks so unsure of things. He hopes that she can confide him, and he doesn't even know why.

"It's my parents," she says finally.

"Your parents?" He doesn't know much about Bella and Tanya's parents, really. About as much as he had known about Bella before this all happened. They were nice enough, though he probably would have considered Renee shallow. But they had really seemed to love Tanya, and they had seemed to really like him. Until she had died. Now he was sure they hated him. He didn't blame them.

She shrugs, uncomfortable again. "Yeah."

He raises an eyebrow, encouraging her to go further.

"It's... I don't know! Ever since Tanya died...Renee's gotten out of bed maybe once, and she's so...out of it. Charlie is doing okay, I guess. I don't know, I've hardly even seen them since... But last night when I got home I could hear them fighting, and I've just...I've never heard them fight like that."

He's surprised to hear Bella refer to them by their first names. Tanya called them Mom and Dad, not Charlie and Renee. "It's probably normal," he says, because he wants to comfort her. She looks so confused and worried about it. "It's hard for a parent to...lose a child."

"I know that," she says with a sigh. "And I know that Tanya was Renee's entire world, and that makes it that much harder for her, but I just...I don't know. I have a...really bad feeling." Her lips turn down into a frown, and she can't help that feeling her stomach.

He has no idea what to say. He reaches out and touches her hand, and they awkwardly entwine their fingers, feeling clumsy and uncomfortable, but at the same time not wanting to pull their hands away and pretend it didn't happen.

Bella stares at their hands with no idea what to think or do next.

"It'll be okay," his voice tugs her attention back to his face, and his eyes are green and gorgeous with intensity. "It'll be okay," he repeats, and she finds herself nodding, and maybe for the first time, believing that possibly things could turn out all right after all.

Edward walks Bella home a few hours later. It's drizzling outside, but you don't live in Forks your entire life without being used to getting a little wet. Edward knows he could and should have just driven her, but he has barely driven a car since Tanya... and he knows there's no way he could drive with Bella in the car with him. He doesn't say any of this out loud to Bella, and she doesn't even bring up the idea, which leads him to wonder if she understands how he feels about it, or if she's afraid to. He doesn't really want to know the answer.

Instead they just walk down the growingly familiar route from the Cullen's the Swan's in their hoodies with the hoods up. Their hands are once again entwined with the other's, and they make no comment on it, and neither of them read into it. They just enjoy the warmth the other one provides.

After sitting on Edward's couch for a while and just talking a bit, they ended up down in the living room watching a movie with Alice. Esme brought out snacks, junk food like chips and mini candy bars and sodas, things Bella rarely eats. She needs something though, something to cheer herself up, to make her feel better. So she found herself digging in with the rest of them.

When the movie was over, Esme insisted that she had to stay for dinner, and she had without an argument, and she found herself once again at the dinner table with the Cullen's. It was very similar to the previous dinners, Esme, Carlisle and Alice trying to keep a conversation alive while Edward picks at his food, and tonight Bella does the same, not hungry after eating chips and chocolate all afternoon.

As usual when Bella leaves Esme tells her to come over whenever, that they are there if she needs them. She appreciates it more than Esme will probably ever know.

She is actually feeling okay as she and Edward walk together. Being at the Cullen's distracts her from her problems, and even though she's going home, back to the empty house, she feels better than she has all day. She's glad that Edward invited her over.

"Thanks for today," she says, as her house comes into sight.

He smiles. "Thanks for coming over."

She rolls her eyes, and then smiles a small smile. "It's nice. I like being away from my house," she admits.

"You can come over tomorrow if you want," he offers. "Alice'll probably steal you away for movies again, but you're welcome."

She realizes tomorrow is Thursday. The two week mark, and also the day of one of her dance classes. She hasn't attended a class in that two weeks, of course. She was told to stay out as long as she needs. But dancing is important to her, and she knows that every class she misses she'll just have to work harder to catch up later. "I can't. I'm going to Port Angeles."

"Oh," he says, a little disappointment seeping though his voice.

"The next day?"

"Of course."

They stop in front of her house, and turn to look at each other.

"So I'll see you Friday," he says awkwardly.

She nods. "Yes."

"Uh, stay safe tomorrow, okay? And if you need anything, you just, you know, want to talk or something, call me."

"Thanks Edward."

He squeezes her hand and she squeezes back before they finally let go.

"Bye," he says with a smile.

"Bye," she replies, smiling back at him.

He turns back towards his house, and she turns to walk onto her porch. She feels the loss of his hand in her own, and she's surprised at how much she misses it. She shakes her head and walks into the house. It's completely dark and quiet, and she's relived, heading straight up to her room.

It's not really late, but she doesn't feel like staying up. She sheds her jeans and grabs a pair of shorts, pulling them on as she heads for her bed. She curls up under her comforter, today replaying in her mind. And all she can think is that she feels different. Not better, not worse. Just different, and that's her last thought as she falls asleep.