The Twilight Twenty-Five

thetwilight25 dot com

Prompt: # 18

Pen Name: junejulyautumn

Pairing/Character(s):

Rating: T

Word Count: 2729

At school I'm sometimes called Sunny, but it's not about my temperament. I'm also called Snowy. The two seemingly contradictory names tie up, with Sunny being short for Sunshy, which I'm told is one of the two most notable things about me. Snowy is short for Snowskin - the other notable thing. Mom says the nicknames are endearments, and whoever thought of them must like me a lot. That kind of grosses me out because Coach Clapp is responsible on both counts.

But this semester I'm not the only deathly white person in the school. Far from it, in fact.

Mom had mentioned a couple of weeks before school was due to start that there was a new surgeon coming to take up a position at our local hospital. Apparently he had five kids. "Wow, his wife sure enjoys pregnancy," I'd commented, but Mom had said, "No, I hear they're the same age." "Quintuplets? Are theyidentical?" I asked in awe, but she'd shrugged and said "nope - adoptees," like it was no big deal, because, yeah, loads of people adopt five kids. And I was thinking they'd be little, like pre-schoolers or something, but there on the first day, in the cafeteria at Horizon View High, the student body was agape at five unfamiliar people sitting around one of the tables. Each of them was just as chalky, milky, pale, and snowy as me. Take that, Coach Clapp.

One of them, Edward, sat next to me in biology that afternoon. Then again in English Lit. He was bright - that much was obvious immediately. He also had what was probably an unintentional ability to bring out the hidden hospitality angel in almost every girl who laid eyes on him. I mean, I introduced myself and asked if he was managing to find his way around - but classmates were offering to take him into town and show him all the attractions, and some of them were so brazen as to make it implicit that they were talking about their very own, personal attractions. A fair bit of cleavage was being flashed his way. He was handsome, it had to be said, and I wondered how he'd react to all that attention, but he declined the invitations politely and turned to me remarking, "Everyone's very friendly here."

"That's because you look like Ryan Gosling," I told him.

"No, I don't," he frowned.

"Oh yeah - you don't. Everyone's very friendly here," I said.

I'm not a particularly chatty type and he proved not to be either, so we didn't spend hours a day exchanging pleasantries, but over the weeks that followed Edward didn't appear to be settling in. His siblings were doing fine and making friends but he wasn't going out anywhere. Winter break came and went without him showing up at any social events, and he didn't date. I went to his house a couple of times, hanging out by the pool with his sisters, and didn't even see him because he stayed in his room.

Then back at school if I asked him on Mondays how his weekend had been he only ever shrugged and mumbled.

"Are you, like, a weekend narcoleptic?" I asked him once.

"Pardon?" he said.

"Do you sleep all Saturday and Sunday?"

"No."

"Are you a misanthrope?"

"No."

"Of melancholic disposition? An avowed and dedicated loner?"

He raised an eyebrow and directed a smirk at me. "Where are you going with this line of questioning?"

And Jesus, so far I'd been immune to the Edward chick-attractor power that turned female heads whenever he was in the vicinity, but with that one crooked grin I just goggled at him and blushed scarlet.

"Nowhere. Um - why don't you socialize?" I muttered.

"You've never asked me out," he said.

Well, I started coughing. My trachea nearly came out. I thought I might lose a lung. While I was hacking and gasping away I imagined myself actually collapsing and ending up dead on the floor without ever having had the chance to work out what he meant by that comment.

Luckily I recovered sufficiently to sit there embarrassed all to hell, with my hand over my mouth.

"Ms Swan - what's the matter? Do you need to see the nurse?" Mr Berty asked.

"It's my asthma," I croaked, nodding.

"I'll take her, sir," Edward said, and he actually put his arm around me and walked me out of the classroom.

"Where's your inhaler? Is it in your bag? Your locker?" he asked in the corridor, all concern. "I didn't know you were asthmatic!"

"I'm not," I admitted. "I just swallowed funny. I got a bubble in my throat."

Edward stared at me, startled, then started to laugh. "You're an original, you know that?" he said.

If his sardonic half-smile had made an idiot of me, the full happy face was even more potent. What little composure I had left disappeared and I grinned back at him like a complete loon.

And after that Edward sort of cheered up a bit. It transpired that he was only prepared to go anywhere if I was going too, which very quickly morphed into the two of us dating. It also transpired that he wasn't averse to going out per se, he just didn't go out much. I found that he wasn't into stuff like sports afternoons in the parks, or pool parties, so we were a match made in dark interiors, both preferring night-time things like seeing movies or bands. Best of all, it transpired that he was a very, very good kisser. Oh, God. His tongue was like a paintbrush, crafting masterpieces inside my mouth that no-one would ever see, but that I could taste. He left his invisible brush strokes elsewhere too, creating cave paintings in places hidden and hitherto forbidden.

However I felt there was still an underlying issue bothering him. Often when I visited he just wanted to stay in and he couldn't be persuaded to leave the house. He wasn't really forthcoming about any of it, and his siblings hedged when I asked them. I subtly asked his mother if he was agoraphobic and she sighed, but didn't confirm or deny it.

"Edward," I said one day while we were lying on his bed with our legs entwined like a stack interchange, "um - ". His hand was hovering at the hem of my blouse and his lips were on my throat. I had a very small window of opportunity to speak before neither of us could any more.

"Mmm," he managed, which might not have been a response.

"Edward," I tried again.

"Mmm."

"Can we talk?"

His head came up and his eyes half-opened. "Talk?"

"Yeah. Sometimes you seem down, like, disconnected. And you get kind of listless. Are you, you know, okay?"

"Sure," he murmured. "Right now I'm fucking fantastic."

"I mean, like okay okay. The rest of the time."

I took his face in my hands and his gaze slid down from mine and to the side in an evasive way. That's when I knew he was hiding something. However, the expression I briefly glimpsed before his eyelids shielded his eyes nearly broke my heart - he didn't look sly or guilty. He looked bleak.

"Edward? What is it? Whatever it is, you can tell me," I whispered, kissing his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, everything softly as a snowflake.

"Nothing," he shook his head, but he looked at me again and this time his expression was despairing.

"Let me in," I urged him. "Trust me."

"Well - I have a condition," he said slowly.

"What sort of condition?"

"It's not well understood, but it's a type of seasonal affective disorder. Have you heard of that?"

"People who get depressed in winter?"

He gave me a rueful smile. "That's generally how it works, yes. In my case though, it's not a lack of light that's the problem. Sunlight gives me insomnia and causes appetite loss. So yeah, I don't eat or sleep too well. I don't even like being outside, you will have noticed. And another symptom is irritability, so I try and avoid being around people when I know I'm short-tempered."

I drew back to stare at the alabaster skin of his cheeks, such a contrast to the almost-plum of his lips, to the autumn-colored eyes that matched the fall shades of his hair.

"Is there treatment?" I asked.

"The disorder is caused by irregular brain chemistry, and anti-depressants are the only known treatment. But I don't like to take them," he said. "They exacerbate the sleeping problems. Now you think I'm weird, don't you? A freak who avoids the daylight because he's scared of it."

He looked a lot more scared about how I might be reacting to this new knowledge about him than whatever fears the day might cause. And anyway...

"Scared of daylight?" I said, soft and low to soothe him, reaching out because he'd slipped away and was at the edge of the bed, tense. "Edward, please. You've heard people call me Sunny?" I told him what it meant, and the relief spread through him, loosening his tight limbs and bringing him back to me. After the disbelief, the frown, the slow sweep of his eyes over the parts of me that he could see that were just as icy-white as him, his smile illuminated the whole room.

"Did you have any symptoms of SAD before you came to Phoenix?" I asked, pre-kiss, and he sighed a little.

"We lived in Alaska. I was tired a lot and I always wanted sunglasses on, so the indications were there, just not so pronounced that they were indicative. My father thought I was photo-sensitive and my brothers thought I was a wanker," he answered.

"A wanker? What does that mean? Show me," I demanded, and he laughed and I laughed and that concluded that part of the conversation.

So we continued to cocoon ourselves indoors and Edward's state of being improved somewhat with me knowing about and accepting his disorder, but it wasn't curable. He still suffered. And summer break was coming up. As it got closer Edward retreated, already anticipating the worst.

I was talking to Esme, his Mom, in their kitchen one day, and I said I'd had an idea. I didn't know if it would help him, it was just a suggestion and she'd probably think I was nuts. But she said she loved it, and she even hugged me. She said we could do it together.

I got online and got busy. We told his brothers and sisters what we were planning and they got busy too, after the secrecy pact we sealed in blood. I didn't like keeping something from Edward but I wanted to present him with a fait-accomplit, not a yet-to-materialize scheme. Their dad even helped too, in what little time he had spare. The whole thing needed to be finished by June, for Edward's birthday, because that's what I'd decided.

Meanwhile, of course school went on as normal, and there was nothing to worry about on the home front. Things with Mom were relaxed, her being distracted by her love life and me being distracted by mine. Dad was a long way away but as close as my cell. What I had named Project A was gathering momentum with packages starting to arrive, and with various members of Edward's family making trips to hardware stores and craft emporia. We were right on track for June 20, at the beginning of summer break.

On the day, I went round to Edward's in the morning. Saying a private hello to him in his bedroom took about fifteen minutes and a lot of self-control - I had to make sure my mouth was occupied at all times so I didn't spill the beans. Kissing curbed my blabbing compulsion nicely.

Downstairs we walked back into the hub-bub of teasing, laughing, mockery and mild abuse that was the hallmark of interactions between this noisy bunch of siblings. Despite his enthusiasm for the kissing he wasn't in too sparkly a mood but he was trying to act as though he was for his family's sake. Needless to say, there was an air of great excitement amongst the rest of us about the surprise. I was nearly bubbling over.

"So, Bella - have you given Edward his gift yet?" his sister Rosalie asked.

"What do you think she's been doing for the last ten minutes?" his brother Emmett snickered.

I fetched my rucksack and unzipped it, handing Edward a smallish parcel. Suggestions came from all sides as to what it might be.

"Edward - Bella bought you a pony!"

"It's a bicycle!"

"I think it looks like a hockey stick."

He was smiling at me as he peeled back the paper to reveal a knitted beanie and a matching scarf.

"Bella?" he said, clearly puzzled. It was over a hundred degrees outside.

"I made them," I said.

"They're lovely. I didn't know you could do this kind of stuff," he answered, trying to keep a 'I just discovered my girlfriend is crazy' look off his face.

"Real nice, Bella. Just his color," Emmett said, nodding while edging away. The rest of Edward's family walked backwards out of the room as Edward put the beanie on.

"Yeah, I love the color," he agreed. "Honestly. Hey - where did everyone go?"

"Um - I think maybe the garage?" I said. "Shall we look for them?"

"No," Edward snorted, but his mother's voice floated to us from the hallway, calling his name, so he shrugged and followed, taking my hand. We opened the hall door leading to the garage beneath the house, and the air in the staircase was much cooler than in the living room.

"Why would she be down here?" he asked me, but she called again, so we shut the door behind us and descended.

And when we got to the bottom Edward's mouth literally dropped open.

I'd bought four different giant wall decals of parkland in fall, and covered the walls with them. Edward's brothers had installed a lighting system that utilised daylight effect halogen bulbs. Esme had scrounged auctions until she'd found old park furniture which she and his sisters had sanded back and cleaned up. And I'd bought thousands, and I mean thousands, of artificial leaves that we'd scattered over the concrete floor. They were glorious colors - gold, chestnut, maroon, crimson, with brilliant greens and warm browns mixed in. The boys had set up pedestal fans with ice trays in front of them to blow cool air around the room, and the temperature was hovering at around sixty degrees. Not that cold, really, but way, way colder than anywhere else in the state of Arizona that wasn't inside a fridge.

Edward was astonished. He was speechless. Emmett couldn't stop laughing at him and Esme was just delighted. After a while he recovered enough so that the five of us could sit around the table playing cards for an hour or so while we waited for Carlisle to get home from the hospital. He brought a huge picnic basket with a ton of food, and coffee for everyone. It was all so damn fucking fun, and of course the best thing was Edward looking the happiest I'd ever seen him. He was grinning so much trying to stuff his mouth full of birthday cake that he dropped crumbs everywhere.

After lunch his family announced that they'd give us a bit of time together, although they all remarked heartily that they'd far rather stay in their new autumn room than return to the heat upstairs.

"I'm sure you would, that's very nice, now go," Edward scolded. He and I lounged around on the park bench, admiring the view side-by-side until he pulled me onto his lap.

"Was this your idea? Did you plan it?" he asked.

"Pretty much, yeah," I said.

"It's amazing. Awesome. So are you. This is the best birthday I've ever had. God, it's incredible. You're incredible," he said. "I'm just blown away that you'd do something like this for me."

"I wanted you to feel good," I said, his pleasure making me tingle.

"Jesus, Bella, if there's anything that makes me feel good it's you," he said, "and you and me together in a northern autumn in a southern June."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Clearly a complete and utter failure as far as the word count goes.

I've realised I'm not going to get the challenge finished so I'll just keep plugging away at the other prompts and see how far I get.