A/N: I'm having too much fun, and I'm getting nothing else done! Lots more alerts this week. Keep them and the reviews coming!

Ch. 7: The Dance

BPOV

Work sucks.

If the 50 year old man with a bad toupee and beer gut who proved Lite beer was definitely NOT less filling drops one more item on the floor just to watch me bend down and pick it up, I'm going to shove a fork up his nose.

If the that giggly girl, Carly, steals one more of my salads, entrées or drink orders before I get a chance to pick it up, I'm going throw my tray at her. When it's full. I'm convinced she stuffs her bra since she was never that big before we started wearing the whore uniforms. So, I'm aiming my tray at her chest—either the Kleenex will get soaked or I'll pop something strategic.

It was that bad. I was so wound up, I could snap instantly.

I guess the good news was that anger displaces depression. I'd rather be mad than sad any day.

It was the kind of night I wished I smoked. I've always been a little jealous of the 5 minute time outs the smokers take. I watch them sneak out the back, and when they return, a calm has come over them. There's no such thing as a "non-smoker's smoke break." I had to wait until my official 30 minute unpaid break which seemed like it would never come.

I didn't wear a watch, nor did I have easy access to my phone during work, so I only saw a clock when I went to the bar to pick up a drink order. I could have sworn it actually moved backwards at one point.

By the time my break finally came, I could not have been more ready. I grabbed a sweater, a salad, and a book, and I took off the picnic table that sat right outside the back door, next to the dumpster. I put the sweater down, just so I didn't sit directly on wood with pantyhose.

I opened the book to the first page, but I couldn't focus enough to take in a single word.

It was another romance. I could usually immerse myself in the fantasy. With Alice's engagement fresh on my mind, though, I was contemplating real happily ever afters.

What I said to Edward once was so true . . . I have never been lucky in love.

I didn't know what to think about my first boyfriend, Eric. He was a little geeky, but so was I. When he asked me out, I couldn't really say no. Beggars can't be choosers, right? We dated for 5 months, until we had sex, or tried to. I still don't know whether to classify that as actually losing my virginity or not.

He had some problems with . . . arousal. I had no idea most men got erections just by thinking about a girl naked. With Eric, it was hard work. On the night of the attempted sexual relations, it took like an hour before he was ready to do the deed. And the minute he was inside me, poof, the erection was gone. We tried again for a while, but then I got tired, and I think he even dozed off at some point while I was trying to assist. I didn't know much, but I assumed it wasn't supposed to be quite like that. I was both irritated and embarrassed. I really only decided to have sex with him out of curiosity. I figured 5 months was long enough to date without being considered too slutty. I thought I must be incredibly unattractive if I could get a guy like Eric excited. I mean really. He wasn't that special.

He broke up with me shortly after, and I think he tried to float a couple of rumors about me, but they never stuck, especially after the next two girls he dated were much more vocal about his "problem." I was relieved, but didn't fully remove the blame from myself until I heard through the grapevine that he was dating a guy named Chuck.

I've only been with two other guys, and I can't really say I was in love with either of them.

I had a glimpse once of what it would feel like to be with someone you adored, who made your heart soar, and caused that little blip in the center of your chest when you saw him.

But we were only friends.

XxXxXxXxXx

Every time Edward and I were together, we laughed until it hurt. He came over almost every Sunday while my dad was fishing or watching a game with friends. It became our ritual. He continued "seeing" Lauren.

I know the whole clandestine friendship thing was for my benefit—a protection of sorts against his would be girlfriend, but I have to admit, there were days when it felt cheap. Why was he okay with everyone in school knowing they were bumping uglies all weekend long, but so adamant about hiding the fact that I was his best friend? Most of the time though, I could buy into Edward's logic that what we had was simply so above the high school drama that we didn't need to let anyone in on the secret.

So, while he messed around with her, I explored my options.

Mike and I dated most of our senior year. I think everyone in Forks probably had a crush on him at some point. He was just so typically All-American cute. His style was a little outdated, but he had these great dimples that drew you away from his spiked hair. He was the kind of guy I would have considered too perfect, and therefore out of my league were it not for Edward.

Everyone seemed flawed in comparison to Edward. If I could be friends with him, I could certainly date Mike.

I was nervous about my senior prom. In the past, I'd always gone to dances in a group, and any dancing I did was more as friends. This was the real deal. Mike was taking me out to a nice restaurant in Port Angeles, and well, I'm pretty sure there was a hotel reserved for after.

After my horrible experience with Eric, I wasn't anxious to get back on that horse again. For a high school senior, Mike had been pretty patient and only whined a little when I stopped our make out sessions.

I figured his patience deserved a reward, and I was curious. Maybe if the guy didn't have an apparent erectile dysfunction, maybe I could like sex. Maybe he'd even think I was pretty.

There was a lot riding on Prom. I wanted everything to be perfect. Of course, Alice helped me pick the dress. She knew me well, so this dress wasn't sexy or high fashion. It was simple. It was me. It was darker than royal, but lighter than navy, a rich dark blue. A straight satin skirt went all the way to the floor. Nothing low cut; or attention-seeking.

It was hanging on my closet door one afternoon when Edward was over.

"So, are you excited for the big evening?" He asked.

"More nervous, I think."

"About?"

I just gave him a look that told him not to ask.

"Oh. So, big plans after huh?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "There is that, but, the dancing scares me too. I don't want to turn him off before we even leave prom."

"Bella, he's been dating you a while. I think he knows you don't dance well. I've never thought of him as Mr. Light on his Feet either."

"I know, but there are heels involved, and a pretty dress. Girls are supposed to look graceful. If I look bad, I'm afraid of what people will say." I looked down. I didn't want to admit to him that I was worried about Lauren and her cronies, but he figured it out.

"Well, do you want to practice?"

"With who?"

"Me, silly."

"You wouldn't mind? I could put my heels on, and I'll try hard not to step on you."

"I'm wearing Docs; my feet will be fine. You might as well put the dress on too. I know you want too. Plus, I won't get to see you on the big night, so I'll get the full effect."

"You're really not going, huh?" I asked as I grabbed the dress and shoes and moved toward the front door.

"I'm afraid not. I wouldn't be able to get away with asking anyone but Lauren, and I just don't want to go there."

"Ah. I'll be right back."

When I came back in the room, he was flipping through radio stations trying to find a song fit for dancing.

He looked up when he heard my door creak. I stood motionless, waiting for his assessment.

"Wow. That . . . works. You're going to knock his socks off."

"You think? I like the dress, but does it look okay on me?

And he continued to take in my dress, so I did a little turn. I tripped, of course, and I was trying to catch myself so that I didn't step on the dress and rip anything. I reached toward my dresser but before I got there, I felt myself steady with Edward's firm grip around my waist.

"I've got you," he whispered. "This could be more of a challenge than I thought"

I smiled. "Told you so." I took another calming breath.

"Are you ready now?"

"Yeah, I'll manage."

His hands were still around my waist, so I moved mine up to his shoulders. With about a couple of feet between us, he continued to look up and down from my dress to my face.

"Really Bella, you're beautiful in that dress…."

I'm not sure there are words to describe the feeling when Edward Cullen says your name and beautiful in the same sentence. I had pushed away all those feelings so long ago. I almost forgot they'd ever existed.

"I hope with Alice's hair and make-up magic, I can do the dress justice."

He wrinkled his nose at implied self deprecation.

"Stop it. You're enchanting as is, no pixie dust needed." I don't know why, but something in how he was looking at me or how he said it or maybe both, but I believed him.

"Thanks," I replied simply.

"This isn't right" he said, and I momentarily wondered if he was feeling the same emotional upheaval as I. Not a second later, he pulled me closer, eliminating any gap between us. "I imagine he'll hold you like this."

I searched for breath. I only found it when he turned one corner of his mouth up and looked down at me with those sparking green eyes. It was more a gasp than a breath, but it still provided oxygen.

"We should dance now," he said quietly.

"Yeah," I replied weakly.

Edward and I had spent countless hours enraptured by our conversation. In those times, we often sat nearly as close as we were at that moment. We'd touched playfully when we argued philosophically about the meaning of life. We'd shared our beliefs about heaven and hell. We'd seen each other half naked—after we jumped into the ocean fully clothed, and he came back here to throw his clothes in the dryer before he went home. All that afternoon he lounged on my bed in nothing but boxers.

But we had never been this intimate, and I had never been more scared to be with him.

I could feel my pulse in my throat, and I could hear my breath coming quicker.

We swayed, barely moving in the small space between my bed, my dresser, and the door to my room. Saying nothing. His right hand slid around my waist to rest on the small of my back. I turned my head to the side, and rested it against his chest. The rhythm of his heart echoed in my ear, loud, strong, fast, like mine. I teetered on the edge of the moment, not sure whether to jump in with both feet or just peer over the edge. But then the hand he rested on my waist gave a squeeze. It may have been involuntary, but it was enough. The decision was no longer mine. I fell into the moment. I floated through it and around it, treading lightly to avoid the inevitable. The moment had a bottom.

We stopped swaying when the song changed. I cursed the radio, not wanting to end this moment.

He broke first as I knew he would. I felt his right hand pull away from me, and I took that as a cue to let go. As I attempted to step back, he held me in place with his left hand. The right hand came up to rest on my chin.

"Look at me," he said softly.

I swallowed and took a quick breath before looking up, not sure what I would see in his eyes. What if he'd figured it out? What if my stupid heart rate and my erratic breathing gave it all away? Would this end?

When I met his gaze, I froze. We both did. We said so much and nothing at all, just staring.

Slowly, his magnificent mouth curved at one corner. I loved that smile, and this was the second time I saw it within minutes. His right hand was still resting on my chin. He lifted it, and I almost pouted in protest, but before I could his hand was on my face again. He slowly slid the back of his fingers across my cheek until he was touching my hair. I stopped breathing.

Then suddenly, the hand moved, and he popped me on the nose with his index finger and backed away.

"I think you and Mike will definitely survive dancing, Bella. And I'm pretty sure he won't be able to resist you after the dance either."

A lump formed in my throat, and my stomach turned. I knew I couldn't cry. It would be a dead giveaway. I needed something to save me from looking like a fool, so I came back with the first thing that came to mind.

"You really should ask Lauren to go." How that came out of my mouth I'll never know.

"What? Did you really just say that?"

"Yes," I breathed. "She won't go with anyone else will she?"

"I don't think so. Tyler asked her, and she told me she said 'no.'"

"Edward, I'm not all that experienced in these things, and I certainly don't harbor any sympathy for Lauren, but you're a better person than that."

"Come on, Bella. Lauren knows what she's doing with me."

"Maybe, but do you know what you're doing?" I really don't know where my courage was coming from at that point. I think I'd been holding some things back on this subject for a while. I resented Lauren for so many reasons, not the least of which was the more public nature of their liaison, but right then, I resented him too. He was getting off too easily, literally and figuratively.

"You screw her every weekend, but you can't take her out one night? She said no to Tyler because of you. It's not fair to take prom away from her. Either cut her loose, or ask her."

"Why are you suddenly supporting Lauren? Did she end her campaign to humiliate you recently and not tell me about it?"

"No, but this isn't really about her. It's about you. Think about it anyway."

Those words invited a change of subject, and I didn't bring it up again, but Lauren went to prom with Tyler Crowley. I heard they got married sometime that first year after high school.

We only talked about Lauren one other time after that, and it was the day after prom when we had this very embarrassing conversation about my sexcapades with Mike. It was incredibly awkward. He wanted me to have better sex. It was sweet in a fucked up sort of way. He even brought over porn one day to give me visuals. I blocked as much of that experience out of my memories as possible.

I would have to say that despite three lovers, sitting on a couch with Edward, watching porn for nearly an hour was the most aroused I have ever been. It was probably the combination of things: fear of getting caught, visual stimulation, memories of "The Dance Incident" (I had named that too), and a growing sense that those feelings were stronger than I wanted them to be.

The cushion between us might have been the Grand Canyon or the space between eyelashes. He was that far away, yet nowhere near close enough. I could hear him, smell him, and even see him out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn't touch.

The silence between us screamed. I finally thought I would explode, and I had to end the torture.

"I think I get the picture," I squeaked.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

"No, I think I'll be fine. Um, thanks for the help." I had no idea what I should say next, so I went to the kitchen and made us a snack.

For me, that really was the turning point of our relationship. I imagine if you asked him, Edward would say it was the move itself that impacted our friendship. I found myself so conflicted in those last few months. I was still seeing Mike, but he wasn't seeing Lauren. We were still "just friends," though when I was with him, I felt more.

But we went back to normal, whatever that was.

XxXxXxXxXxXx

My break ended. I had mixed emotions about that. Dealing with more assholes checking out my tits while their wives surveyed the menu didn't seem like fun, but I knew more time alone would only mean more time thinking about Edward. I needed a break from that, and nothing gets your mind off unrequited love like seeing what happens to requited love 20 years down the road.

The couples don't talk, sometimes because they can't stand each other, but mostly because there's nothing left to say. They don't gaze longingly at each other across the table; instead they survey the room looking for an excuse to look anywhere but at the love of their lives.

When I watched them, I was almost grateful that Edward never felt the same for me. If this is where the love train took you, I didn't want a ticket.

So, I got through my shift without thinking about Edward. Much.

I rushed through clean up so I could catch the last bus of the night. If I had to call a cab, it would take too big a dent in the night's tips.

I was in such a rush I didn't even notice my phone's occasional beep which was my signal that I had a message until I was sitting on the nearly empty bus. I pulled my phone out, and saw that I had 3 missed calls and 1 new voice mail.

I didn't recognize the number, but the area code was from home. Odd.

I figured the message must be from the same number, so I checked it first.

"Hello Bella, This is Ben Cheney. I'm on the force with your dad. I hate to do this over the phone, but I can't seem to get a hold of you. There was an altercation tonight, and your dad was shot. He's in the hospital, and it would be wise for you to make arrangements to get here. Please call me back when you get this message, no matter what time it is . . ."

The message went on to provide a number and to offer another apology for the method of delivery. I didn't really hear it.

I sat in silent panic for the whole ride home. I didn't want to call from the bus, but the lack of information was unbearable. Which hospital? That would tell me so much about the severity of the situation. Obviously it was bad if he wanted me there soon. I simply couldn't lose my dad. I thought back to our conversation earlier in the day. I hadn't even said, "I love you," at the end of it.

Oh my god. I didn't say anything, not even "Love ya." I was worse than Renee.

I jumped off the bus and was hitting the buttons to get through to Ben before I was even at the door to my building.

"Officer Cheney," he answered.

"Yes, this is Bella Swan."

"Bella, thank goodness you called. I work with your dad; I was with him tonight. I don't know if you remember me, but . . ."

"Ben, I need more information," I cut him off.

"Sure, he's in ICU right now. They had to perform surgery. I don't know all the details, but things are touch and go."

"What happened?"

"A domestic dispute. He got caught in the crossfire. I'm very sorry, Bella. Do you think you can get here soon?"

"I just got the message a minute ago. I'm getting ready to search flights right now. Where is he?"

"Port Angeles. Listen, call me when you have plans. We can get someone to pick you up. Do you know my wife, Angela used to be Weber?" Anyway, she said she'd even come to Seattle if needed.

I was still calm at this point. No tears. No screaming. No rushed voice. I ended the conversation by indicating my gratitude for his help. During the last few seconds, I'd been pulling up flight information, and that's when everything started to hit me.

I just paid rent. I had no money other than what I made in tips tonight. I don't even have a credit card. I know I'm a complete idiot since I pass people every day on campus offering me a free t-shirt or duffle bag in exchange for a line of credit. Charlie always made my travel plans, so I never needed the damn thing. I couldn't very well call Ben back and tell him to read me Charlie's credit card over the phone. It wouldn't make sense.

The only thing keeping me sane was that he was in Port Angeles. It was clearly serious enough that they took him to a bigger hospital than the one in Forks, but still . . . if they kept him there for surgery and didn't med flight him further, that had to be a hopeful sign.

If I took a flight with a stop at LAX, I could get a ticket for around $350, and then I'd grab another plane to Port Angeles for $86. I could get by a little cheaper if I wanted to leave later, but I wanted the first thing out I could get. That price didn't seem so bad, better than the nonstop flight, which was closer to $600. The problem remained that I simply didn't have it.

It only took me one minute of cursing myself further for being so helpless before I picked up my phone and made the only call I could.

He answered on the first ring.

"Bella, it's so good to hear from you. I've been thinking of you all day!"

"Edward, I need you," I said weakly. And then the tears came.

E/N: As usual all gratitude to hmonster4 for her fabulous beta skills, but a special thanks this week for the wonderful What You Thought You Knew chapter. My husband will thank you later.

A little special note to my ChiWi ladies! Thanks for the encouragement!