I flip though the daily newspaper and sip on my warm cup of coffee as Esme and I enjoy the quiet afternoon on the back patio. It's seems like I never get a day off anymore, so I've taken advantage of this beautiful day.

"Edward will be home anytime now." Esme says, briefly looking up from her book.

"Good. Maybe I'll take him to the lake. We can fish."

"That would be good for the two of you. He's home alone with me so much. I'm sure he'll love the guy time."

I nod and mentally plan our afternoon. We could fish, we could play ball in the backyard, we could just chat on the patio. Maybe we'll even go get a sundae. He's done a lot of growing up in the last few days; he deserves a treat.

"Actually, look at the time." I sigh as I check my watch. "He should have been here at least ten minutes ago. I thought I made it clear that he needed to come straight home and let us know if he has plans."

"It is possible that class ran over." Esme points out. I nod.

"It is possible. I just hope he gets home soon. He's done so well these past few days."

We return to our reading, only to be interrupted five minutes later by the front door slamming. I peer though the open door to see Edward throwing his school bag across the hall.

"Edward! Come out here, buddy." I call. He throws his head back and groans before stomping through the house. Once he's outside, he stares at Esme and I with a bitter scowl and his arms crossed over his chest. "What's wrong, Junior?"

"Nothing's wrong." He grumbles.

"Then why the attitude?"

"I don't have an attitude!"

I raise a questioning brow at him. He scowls at the ground.

"Why are you late?" Esme asks.

"Because of my stupid teacher." Edward murmurs under his breath.

I sigh as I realize what most likely happened. He's late, he's mad, and he's blaming it on his teacher.

"Did you get paddled, Edward?"

"It was unjust! I didn't deserve it!" He yells, dropping his arms to his side and balling his fists. "It was Harris, not me!"

"Edward," I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"You were doing so well, honey." Esme adds on sadly.

"It was Harris!"

"What did you do?" I ask.

"I already told you it was Harris, not me!"

"What could Harris have done that would have gotten you in trouble?"

"He cheated on our math test. He asked me the answers and when I told him to bug off Ms. Danielson thought I was helping him. So we had to stay after school." He explains. He waves his hands violently as he speaks. "I didn't cheat! It was him!"

"Did you tell her that you weren't giving him the answers?" Esme questions.

"She wouldn't even listen to me!"

"Did she look at your tests? If Harris was asking you for the answers and you didn't give them to him, he shouldn't have them on his paper." I add on.

"Like I said, she didn't listen. She just wrote our names on the board and whooped us both." He grumbles.

I look at Esme and sigh. Ms. Danielson sang Edward's praises at the last parent-teacher conference. She said she loved Edwards creative mind- similar to Edward Senior. Edward seemed to like her before this. I can't imagine she wouldn't let him state his case. And without looking at their answers, how could she know for sure if they were cheating? She's the most respected teacher in the area. It isn't like her to act in the way Edward is portraying.

"Go to your room." I tell him. His jaw hits the ground.

"I told you-"

"I know what you told me, now do what I told you!" I respond firmly. "Go to your room. I want to speak with Esme privately."

"I can't believe you! I didn't do anything wrong!" Edward huffs but stomps off. He slams the door shut and I look at my wife.

"What do you think?" I ask.

"I don't know. That doesn't sound like Ms. Danielson."

"I'm not sure if he's lying or not." I admit.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure yet."


"Edward," I say as I knock on his bedroom door. He doesn't answer, so I gently push the door open. I see Edward pacing back and forth. I lean against the door jam.

"Why don't you believe me?" Edward asks without missing a step.

"I never said I don't believe you, Junior. I just want you to tell me what happened one more time." I explain. He rolls his eyes and huffs.

"I told you already. Harris asked me to give him the answers to the history test and-"

"Stop right there." I say and hold up my hand. "Was it your history test or math test?"

Edward's eyes widen as I point out the inconsistency in his story. His neck slowly turns red and it creeps up to his cheeks.

"It, uh, it was my math test. We had a history test earlier this week." He stammers awkwardly. He watches his feet and rubs the back of his head.

"Really? Where is your history test, then?"

"I lost it."

"What grade did you get on it?"

"I don't remember."

"You don't remember? Edward, you've know your GPA since your first year of school. And wasn't it history that you were having trouble in?" I ask.

"I think it was a B." He answers quickly.

"I think you're lying to me." I say. He stops in his tracts. "Tell me what really happened."

He doesn't say anything for a few moments. I just wait where I am. Soon enough, he looks up at me with the saddest baby face he can muster.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Carlisle."

"Tell me what really happened." I repeat. He sighs.

"I didn't know the answers so I asked Harris. Ms. Danielson caught us." He whispers.

"So you cheated and lied?"

Edward looks down again and shrugs.

"Answer me, Edward."

"Yes." He murmurs.

I groan as completely disappointment washes over me.

He was doing so well.