Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. So it starts off angsty but there is a light at the end of the tunnel…

Edward started leading us in a certain direction and I followed him quietly, trying to remain calm while refining my new plan. I was so consumed by my own thoughts that I wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying to me. That is, until something came out of his mouth that made me stop walking and stare at him in dismay. No… no, no, no.

"What did you say?" I demanded he repeat himself. Surely I had just heard him wrong.

"I said I know a good restaurant near by. Usually you need a reservation but since it's still technically early for dinner, I think we might be able to get in." He looked at me curiously, obviously puzzled by my severe reaction.

Shit. He wanted to go to a fancy eat-in restaurant now? Today? I was already a nervous wreck; this was the last thing I needed today.

"Actually, I'm not very hungry. I'm kind of tired. I think I'd like to just go to bed and get some sleep. Maybe some other time." I tried to backtrack frantically. I already knew he wouldn't believe that I wasn't hungry but I was hoping he'd let me go back to my dorm room anyway. I really needed a break, to just be alone for a while and get myself together again.

Let me go back, Edward. Please.

"But you said you were starving. Come on, we have to do something special – it's your birthday!" He sounded so outraged, like I had said I wanted to go kill a puppy or something.

"No it's not. That was three days ago, remember?"

"Yeah, but we're celebrating it today. This is the second part of your birthday present. Please?"

He obviously wasn't going to back down. I had let someone get too close and now I was going to pay for it. He was starting to push me down a road I couldn't go. A much more intimate road that scared the hell out of me and my sheltered little heart. It was the beginning of the end of our friendship.

Say no. Say no. Don't look him in the eyes and just say no for crying out loud.

"Ok."

You idiot! You really are a masochist aren't you?

I had meant to say no. I really, really had. But then I looked into those stupid green eyes. And they were innocent again. Innocently excited. Hopeful. I just couldn't bear to disappoint him again, not after I had ruined his nice gesture in the park earlier. I didn't want to see him frowning because of me. I wanted him to be happy. And he was happy right now. That much was obvious, even to me. But how the hell was I going to follow through with this?

"Great. You'll love this place, Bella. They have the most delicious spaghetti. You like Italian. I know you'll love it."

I started following him again and let him babble on excitedly, nodding and humming at what I hoped were appropriate intervals as I tried to come up with a plan. This wasn't a date, surely. No it couldn't be. But he had kissed my hand earlier… What the hell did that mean? What was he expecting from me? What would he want to talk about? Would he sit opposite me? What would he think of me as he watched me eat? Oh god. Crap. Crap. Crap.

I just couldn't stop asking myself questions and worrying over all the possible answers. I was so out of my element. The whole thing just seemed too formal and manipulative. It was them and all their crap. They make you dress up, go out to eat and sit there across from each other, assessing and judging. That's what Edward would be doing to me, sitting there, watching me, judging me. And I had no idea what criteria he would be using. How the hell am I supposed to pass his test if I don't know what I'm being tested on? And what was the fucking point of even taking his test? I knew I would fail. I'm not girlfriend material; I'm barely friend material. Even if he had no romantic feelings towards me, and I was absolutely certain he didn't (how could he? Hewasn't insane) the date-like situation would make him assess me in that light. I just knew those thoughts would be running through his head and I would have to sit there and watch his face while they did. I had been hoping that if I could avoid the usual tests with Edward – the friend test, the girlfriend test, they go on and on – I could prolong our relationship. I just wanted some more time with him before reality started sinking in.

I ran through all the coping mechanisms I had used with some success in the past, trying to see if one of them could help me. When I had to give presentations in class or talk to new people I created a persona for myself that I could take up, a character I could play. But Edward already knew me too well for something like that to work. He never believed me when I lied to him. He'd see through this and worse, he'd call me on it. The thought that I would have to be myself, to be myself while I put myself in such a vulnerable position, roused the butterflies in my stomach. I was starting to panic. I couldn't focus on what was going on around me. Next thing I knew, we were sitting opposite each other in the middle of an unfamiliar restaurant. It was early too, so I didn't even have the comforting buzz of a crowded room to hide behind. It wasn't silent, but we would have no trouble hearing each other. Great. My entire body was paranoid and alert, sitting up straight in the cushioned chair I didn't even remember sitting down in, all fucking vulnerable and feeling completely exposed. I felt like I was on a stage or something, in front of a live audience, and they had refused to give me my script but expected me to play my part anyway. The worst thing was Edward. He was sitting opposite me, looking at me kindly but expectantly. I could feel my confidence crumbling under the weight of his stare, his expectations… whatever they were.

I can't do this.

He looked like he was about to say something and get this freak show of a non-date on the road and I couldn't let that happen. I'm not ready for this to happen. Not yet.

"I need to pee." I blurted it out before he could say anything. I was a little surprised I had actually said that to him. In the past and with other people I would always just say "I'll be right back." I mean, I know they know I have to use the toilet from time to time, like every other human being, but it just made me feel so embarrassed to admit it out loud. And now Edward knew I would be in the toilet, peeing. Not that I actually needed to pee right now, but still… That was not a mental image I wanted him to have. However, getting away from him was my priority right now.

I rushed away from the table, walking off in a random direction, before I realized I didn't know where the toilet was. I looked around for a waiter hysterically. I guess if Edward was watching, he'd think I really, really needed to pee. Ugh. Embarrassing. Whatever, I'd worry about that later.

I was so single-minded that I didn't even feel afraid when I finally found a waiter and asked (more like demanded to know) where the toilet was. I mumbled a quick thank you as I half-ran in the direction he pointed me in.

At last I found it and locked myself in one of the stalls. The sound of the door locking, that nice loud click, was irrationally comforting. Thank God. I let out the breath I had been holding for God knows how long. Resting my forehead against the locked door, I tried to calm myself down. I didn't have much time before Edward got suspicious and I'd have to explain what I was doing for so long in here. Maybe I could tell him I was feeling ill. Surely he'd have to let me go back to my room then?

I felt safe in the small, cramped space. It was soothing. And at least Edward couldn't follow me in here.

Oh God.

What if he did?

That thought made my entire body stiff again and I could feel the panic rising up in my throat, suffocating me. Edward was going to see me like this. Like this. Oh God. Oh God. Not only was I going to fail his test but he would see me in this pathetic state, hiding like a goddamn coward. He would see me for what I really am: a cowering mess, a frightened little girl. I realized in that moment that I couldn't hide from him; that he would see it all.

I propped my back up against the side of the stall and let myself sink down. I folded my body inwards until I was twisted into a ball, my body as close to the corner where the two walls met as it could get. The panic was taking over my body completely now; I was losing control. I felt like I was trying to weld myself to the wall or something. My head was down and my arms were hugging my knees. No, that was definitely the wrong word. I don't think I know an appropriate word for what my arms were doing… clutching, clawing at my knees like I was trying to keep myself from falling apart or maybe trying to put myself back together. My head was trying to burrow into my arms, in an effort to stifle the pathetic sounds I was making as breathing became more difficult. I was losing control and I knew what was coming next.

The numbness.

It wasn't the fact that I was ridiculously afraid right now or that the position I had warped my body into was painful. It was that I could feel nothing else. I just felt so empty. There was just the present fear and pain and once that ended it seemed like there'd be nothing else. Just my stupid brain keeping a record as I went through the motions. 'A Partial Death'.

I was breathing heavily. My heart was thrashing against my ribcage as if it was trying to abandon ship, to just save itself while there was still time. My fists were clenched and my nails were digging painfully into my palms. I'd take the pain over the numbness any day.

I thought I was going to have a heart attack and die right here, cowering away in the fucking toilet. And then what? Edward would eventually say something to the waiter and they'd find me lying dead in here?

No.

No. I don't fucking think so… not today.

I had to draw the line somewhere. I couldn't tolerate this. I was so sick of feeling these same feelings, over and over and over, and not doing anything about it. I was not going to let myself be this. This mess. Even if going back out there meant failing, meant only humiliating myself, even if it meant Edward would never talk to me again after he realized just how truly pathetic I am… fine. Fine. I would figure out some way to handle that later. But I was not going to stay in here, hiding and trembling and cowering like a fucking child.

Get up, Bella. Get the fuck up.

And I did.

I breathed a sigh of relief that I had at least managed that. I felt like I was regaining some measure of control over myself. I tried to talk myself through this. One step at a time. I can do this. I can do this. I will do this.

Now unlock this door and walk out. Don't think about it. Just do it.

And I did. My hands were shaking the entire time and it took me longer than it should have as I fumbled around with the lock, but at least I did it.

Next came my battle with the mirror.

I looked awful. Clammy and sweaty and disgusting. Even worse than I usually did. And there wasn't much I could do about it right now. I splashed some water on my face and tried to at least even out my breathing. Eventually I managed to calm myself down and I was just staring at myself in the mirror.

Could I really go out there and face Edward looking like this?

No.

Yes.

It didn't matter either way. Whatever was waiting for me on the other side of that door… it had to beat this. Anything was better than hiding in here in my constant state of defeat and dread. This was my rock bottom. The final straw. The breaking point. Whatever the fuck you want to call it, this was it.

And then I actually managed to walk out.

I was still shaking a little as I took my seat opposite Edward again but I knew I wasn't going anywhere this time.

I mumbled out a quick "sorry" and smiled at Edward apologetically. I really had no idea if I was gone longer than appropriate. Who knew what he thought of me now…

Don't bring it up. Please, Edward. Just this once.

"No problem." He smiled at me crookedly and it looked like he meant it. I gave him the biggest, most idiotic grin back in thanks.

"So … um… the spaghetti is good here?" I grabbed the menu, grateful for the distraction.

It was awkward as hell to begin with. Awkward doesn't even begin to describe how I felt as I told our waitress my order. Because of-fucking-course we had a waitress instead of a waiter. And of course she was gorgeous. And blonde. And perfectly at ease, smiling and flirting with Edward as she told him her life story.

They actually looked pretty good together. Blonde and bronze. They matched. No one would wonder what he saw in her when they were together. I could see him getting married to someone like this blonde waitress some day. He'd move on and I would still be here, looking in from the outside, wondering about him and what he was doing. My brain immediately started conjuring images for me, images that made my eyes burn.

This stupid girl with her stupid blonde hair. I saw Edward running his fingers through that hair lovingly.

Her stupid tiny waist. I saw Edward playfully wrapping his arms around that waist from behind and pulling her closer to his body.

Her stupid red, perfectly manicured nails. I saw her running them down Edward's bare back as they made love in the evening.

Her stupid mouth. I saw Edward giving her a few chaste kisses before he left to go to work in the morning.

Her stupid brain. I saw Edward having long conversations with her into the early hours of the morning. Confiding in her. Because, of course, I was sure she wasn't actually stupid. Apparently she was at Dartmouth with us, working here part-time to make some extra money. You don't end up at Dartmouth unless you're smart. Yep, she was probably the complete package. She would obviously pass his tests, with fucking flying colors.

I couldn't bear to look at them after that so I just stared at my fidgeting hands, timidly waiting for her to finish making her move. I felt nice and invisible. At least I was invisible to her. I wasn't sure if Edward could still see me; I wasn't sure what Edward was thinking. He was only giving her short answers and his smile looked a little tight. But then again, maybe he was just being polite. He wasn't the type of guy that would hit on some girl right in front of me during my "birthday" dinner. A part of me really wished he would, though. He deserved a nice, pretty girl, someone who wouldn't have a panic attack if he suggested they go out to eat. Whatever, I was sure she'd slip him her number somehow and he'd be able to call her later, guilt-free.

Things got a lot better after she left, though. I didn't know how Edward did it, but I was almost enjoying myself not 10 minutes later. He started off doing most of the talking and, at first, I could barely focus on what he was saying. Usually when people tried to cheer me up or make me relax they'd say stuff like, "Relax, Bella." Or, "You need to loosen up." And well… duh! Stuff like that just made me more aware of how uncomfortable I was. And of course, I knew Edward was doing the same thing but he was much more subtle about it. He just started telling me stories. At first I kept wondering how he expected me to respond. What was the right answer? What did he want me to say? What answer would get me an A? But then something weird happened… I slowly started becoming interested in what he was saying and these thoughts started fading to the back of my mind. I started to forget that I was being tested. Bit by bit, it got a little easier to sit there. And then even easier. Soon, I was actually laughing as he recounted a time when he had come here with his family and his brothers had gotten bored and started messing around with his food.

I can do this. This is just me and Edward talking, like we do almost every day.

I even joined in on the conversation then. I took his brothers' side because… well, just because I knew it would annoy him. It was fun to tease him. God knows he teased me constantly. It was about time I got some revenge.

It was only when our food came that I remembered where we were. I was still uncomfortable with the idea of him watching me eat. I mean, he'd seen me eat before of course, but this felt different. We were sitting opposite each other in a fancy restaurant, not side by side on the steps of the library. There was some kind of appropriate etiquette here, a right answer, a way to pass, and I wasn't sure what it was. And I had stupidly ordered spaghetti because Edward had told me to. Bella, you moron. It was practically impossible to eat spaghetti without making a mess. Well, impossible for me. Everyone else always seemed to manage it just fine.

The waitress put our plates in front of us and Edward dug in immediately. I noticed that he didn't even look at the waitress this time. Hmmm… maybe he was just really hungry.

I looked down at my own food and hesitantly picked up my fork and spoon. I knew you were supposed to twist the spaghetti onto your fork, using the spoon to help you somehow… but frankly I wasn't any good at it. I usually just ate spaghetti with only a fork which was probably why I always made such a mess. I tentatively tried to twirl some of the pasta onto my fork, awkwardly using the spoon like a knife to cut off the longer pieces so that it would fit into my mouth. I could feel Edward's amused gaze on my plate. Resigned that I would have to meet his eyes sooner or later, I decided to just bite the bullet now. I looked up.

I was right. He was trying to hold in his laughter. I thought he was going to make a joke out of it or something, but he didn't say anything. He just held my gaze, trying unsuccessfully to suppress his amused smile, and scooped up some pasta randomly, holding his fork suspended in the air. Strands of spaghetti were falling off, but that didn't seem to bother him. He tilted his head to the side and brought his mouth underneath his fork, opening it wide and trying to get all the bits of spaghetti into his mouth. When he was done there was sauce all over his mouth and chin but he was still smiling as he licked his lips and what he could reach of his chin. Then he winked at me and continued eating.

I could feel my cheeks turning pink and I moved my eyes safely back to my plate. I wasn't entirely sure what to make of that. I guess he didn't care if I didn't follow the appropriate spaghetti etiquette. So I dropped my spoon and started twisting spaghetti onto my fork. Not quite with as much abandon as Edward but much less cautiously than before. I don't know if it was the fact that it was the best spaghetti I had ever had, or the very distracting lingering image of Edward's tongue running over his lips, but pretty soon I was eating in earnest. Even more shockingly, I was actually smiling too. Watching Edward eat spaghetti was very amusing. And not amusing in an I'm-intentionally-trying-to-be-funny kind of way… he was just having a good time and that kind of energy is infectious. Or I guess he could be an even better actor than I am. Either way it was another one of those memories I hoped would never fade.

The conversation starting picking up again and I felt like a much more active participant this time. I kept trying to time my questions just as Edward had shovelled a big forkful of spaghetti into his mouth. Just so I could watch him squirm as he tried to answer semi-politely with his mouth full. It was hilarious. Of course he did the exact same thing to me but I wasn't stupid enough to stuff my mouth with that much spaghetti at once.

I thoroughly wiped around my mouth when we were done… just in case.

After our messy meal, we ordered coffee. When it arrived, the waitress handed each of us a dessert menu and I started half-reading it. I was really proud of myself. An hour ago, the idea of dessert and staying here even longer would have thrown me into another panic.

I noticed Edward's hands moving across the table out of the corner of my eye. I looked over my menu curiously to see him switching our coffee cups. What the hell?

"What are you doing?" Was he playing a prank on me or something?

His eyes snapped up to meet mine. He seemed a little shocked that I had caught him red-handed and he smiled sheepishly. "I, err…your cup is chipped. I was just switching it with mine."

What? Some explanation… I was even more confused now.

"Why would you want the chipped cup?"

He just shrugged as if it was nothing. But I did notice that his cheeks were a little pink as he fingered the handle of the chipped cup awkwardly.

I was going to ask him to elaborate, but he looked uncomfortable so I decided to let it go. Hopefully he was paying attention and would remember this and return the favor sometime.

I was about to go back to looking at the dessert menu when Edward stopped me. I guess he rebounded from his discomfort pretty quickly. "Don't order dessert, Bella. I have a better idea."

A/N: So I'm a little worried about this chapter. Please let me know what you thought of it :)

Many thanks to my beta and to everyone reading, reviewing and helping me improve.