Yeah, check me with an update within a week.

Thanks to geekchic12 for tolerating my whimsical use of punctuation and squishes to lynzylee for being head cheerleader :)


The words echoed in the room.

As my mind tried to process that information, I was reminded of the day when Jake told me he was gay.

But back then, it was different. We were driving in my old beat up truck, on our way from putting gas in it. We were hanging out after school, like we always did. The light had turned red, and I was singing along to some old song that was playing on the radio. Jake was quiet in the passenger seat, but he seemed tense for some reason. I'd already asked him what was wrong, but he said it was nothing. Suddenly he reached over and turned the radio off in a sharp motion that was so unlike him.

He stared out of the windshield, and I looked over at his face, his features so stiff in his usually easygoing face. And I saw my friend, really saw him, and realized we were both so much older than the kids who had played hide 'n seek and gone swimming at the beach on lazy summer days.

His face, his body was evolving into manhood, and I had filled out in the places which discerned me from childhood into womanhood.

"Bella, I'm gay."

I blinked, and a horn sounded behind us. I looked up, and the light was green. I shifted the truck into gear and moved through the intersection.

His serious voice spoke quietly from next to me.

"Say something. Please say something."

"Um. Does this mean we can go back to being comfortably naked in front of each other like when we were five?"

He had laughed then. He had laughed, and all the tense air escaped from the car, replaced by the easygoing breeze of late spring.

But right now, this wasn't Jake telling me he was gay. This was Edward, whom I'd barely known a few hours. This was a stranger who knew all about me, and I knew nothing but the crazy information he was currently feeding me.

Jake was here, though, and his stony, silent face told me that this had the potential to be more than the crazy ramblings of some nutjob.

I looked from Jake's face to Becks, who was looking at me as if I was about to explode. And then there was Edward. His beautiful face was like that of a Greek statue, like a master's hands had carved his features from cold stone. The lifeless stillness from him while he awaited my answer was made even more eerie by the alien-black of his eyes.

A chill ran through me.

And just as I knew that Jake had been telling me the truth that day, instinctively I knew that Edward was telling me the truth now.

I looked at Jake, then at Becks. "Did you know about this?"

Jake looked over at Becks, who nodded. "Dad told us a couple of years ago. He had to."

"What do you mean he had to?"

Becks sat forward in her chair, her face serious. "Bella, I don't want to keep things from you—"

"Because you've not been doing that so far." Even I recoiled from my acidic tone. Becks looked at me as if I'd slapped her. Instantly, I felt horrible for being such a bitch. This wasn't her fault.

"I'm sorry, Becks."

Her face relaxed except for a tenseness around her mouth. "It's okay, Bells. I know this is a lot to take in."

There was a pause, and I watched as Edward turned towards Jake. "That's actually a prudent idea."

It was like I'd missed a piece of the conversation. "Did I miss something?"

Jake threw Edward a withering look. "I think this would be easier coming from Tilly, Bells."

"What does Aunt Tilly have to do with any of this?" I could feel a headache starting.

Jake's gaze was bleary as he looked me, his eyes suddenly tired. "She knows about this. She knows all of it. I think you better call her. It would be easier if she explains it."

I looked at the clock on the wall and groaned at the time: four AM. I rubbed my hands over my face.

"I need sleep. I need to sleep on this and try to figure it out in the morning. And I need all of you to leave. I'm sorry if that's cunty, but I really need space to process this."

Edward's quiet voice answered next to me. "I'm not leaving you alone." I rolled my eyes.

Jake sat up in his chair, his eyes bloodshot. "I'm not leaving you alone with him."

Becks, ever the diplomat, tried to iron out the situation. "Guys, maybe we should—"

Edward and Jake stared hard at each other, but both answered a single but vehement no.

I gritted my teeth in frustration, then anger, and for everything that had taken place this evening and now into the small hours of the morning, I could feel myself really starting to bottom out.

I stood up, and Edward stood with me. I put my hands out and jumped when I grazed his side.

"I'm tired of fighting. I need a quiet moment away from everyone. Please leave me alone. You can sit outside the door and measure each other's dicks for all I fucking care."

Becks looked at Jake. "She's doing that thing."

"The talking with the hands thing?"

"Uh-huh. Shit just got real."

I nearly choked on my anger. "I can hear you, you assholes. Quit trying to make me laugh with Bad Boys quotes. Fuck you." I pointed at Jake; Becks was next. "Fuck you." I turned to Edward and jabbed him in the arm, which hurt my finger. "And especially fuck you. Fuck all of you."

I threw my hands in the air and stormed off. Edward was hot on my heels. I closed the door in his face, or at least I tried to, but he caught it. I could hear Becks and Jake having a discussion, their voices muted, but it sounded like she was holding him back from following.

I was so angry I could feel tears starting to prick the corner of my eyes.

Swear to God, no crying.

"You are upset?"

"Congratulations, you win!"

He reached forward as I bit my lip, and a tear escaped. I rubbed it away with the heel of my hand. His hand paused in front of my face for a moment and then continued. I jumped when his cool finger touched me and felt tingles race through me as he traced where I had angrily rubbed the wetness away.

His dark eyes looked into mine, and I was frozen there under his gaze, under his touch, as he caressed my cheek.

"I am sorry for upsetting you, Isabella."

There was a sadness in his eyes, which seemed genuine, a shame there for being the cause of my upset.

"'S'okay. Call me Bella, please. Isabella is what my mom called me when I didn't clean my room."

His face relaxed, and he tried out the nickname. "Bella." His hand cupped my chin, and his thumb smoothed over my lips. The angry knot in my stomach unraveled.

"Sweet dreams, Bella." And with one final stroke of his thumb, he dropped his hand and closed the door behind him.


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