Chapter 9

A Sort of New Moon

The day after homecoming drags on a lot more slowly than the previous day. Nothing much is going on at the hospital—which is a good thing, if not frustrating because I have to be here either way—all my labs still look good, my cultures are still not growing anything, and I haven't had any more fevers. It all means something like a 'false alarm' and I will likely get to go home soon. My mom goes home to rest, and my dad accompanies her despite his original plan to spend the day with me. I need to talk to Rosalie and find out what happened and I cannot have that conversation with him in the room.

Unfortunately fate—and Rosalie—has other plans. It is a synchronized dance that I am playing with my cell phone. I call and text Rose repeatedly, only to get her voice mail and no texts back. When I call her house, the phone rings and rings until her mom finally answers and apologizes to me that Rose is unable to talk to me at the moment. She doesn't even relent when I inform her that I am in the hospital.

Edward, on the other hand, calls my hospital room and my cell phone repeatedly as well, but I cannot talk to him. In the bright light of day, all I feel is guilt. Guilt over being so happy with Edward. Guilt over not realizing Rosalie was having such a hard time with Royce, not realizing that she was unhappy. Guilt over being so wrapped up in my leukemia that I don't even know what's going on around me.

Angela stops by my room when she is done with rounds. It is the weekend, and I am sure that Ben is waiting at their apartment for her, but she brings me a grilled chicken and fresh basil sandwich from Ida's across the street and has lunch with me instead. I confide in her the events from my makeshift hospital homecoming dance, and also my multiple layers of guilt.

She listens quietly as I rant and rave, chews her food thoughtfully, and then makes her comments. "Bella, you can't feel guilty for being sick. It's out of your control. My sister felt that way too, but never once did I blame her when my parents were here at the hospital instead of my violin recitals, or track meets, or even my high school graduation.

"You know what June's death—really her life—taught me?" she asks.

"What? That life is too short?" I answer her rhetorical question.

"Well, yes, but that's not exactly what I'm getting at. What I mean is…for June's life to have meant anything—she taught me to appreciate the world around me, my parents, Ben. Don't waste your time feeling bad about not being there for Rosalie…instead be there for her now. Don't feel bad about your…feelings for Edward, just be happy that he is here for you. June taught me just how much love there is around us, she taught me about unconditional love, love in the face of possible loss. I don't want you to have any regrets in your life, Bella."

I nod my head, understanding and not understanding her words. At face value, they make sense. As they apply to me, I'm not so sure. After Angela leaves, I listen to music, while staring at the shapes and patterns on the hospital ceiling tiles. Of course, my usual form of relaxation makes me think of Edward, and him lying down next to me a few weeks ago, doing the exact same thing. I am still uncertain what to say to him so I take out the journal he gave me for my birthday and start doodling the patterns I see onto the pages. Pretty soon the doodles make way into words that turn into paragraphs and lines of poetry and imagery all describing the confusion, frustration, and fear that I am feeling about Edward Cullen.

-0-

A new moon is the starting over

Is darkness, fear, despair

The passing of time

Is it darkest before the dawn?

I trace the midnight silhouettes of the clouds

Fluffy on my ceilings

of us.

-0-

After the last bell rings, I trail slowly after the crowd towards the parking lot, looking for Rosalie's car. Before I can spot it, I see a lone figure leaning up against the front of a silver Volvo. Edward is looking down at the ground, kicking at a pebble with his shoe, his bronze locks falling gently over his face. His shoulders are slumped and his hands are in his pockets. His sadness seeps into me and I feel guilty for the forlornness of his figure. He looks up at me in that moment and I see a flicker of hope in his eyes. I cannot avoid him any longer.

As I walk over to him, he says lowly, "Did you lose your phone, Bella?" I shake my head in answer. "Are you avoiding me then?"

"No, Edward—"

"Well, what am I supposed to think when my girlfriend isn't answering my phone calls?" he interrupts me as he stops leaning against his car to step closer to me. His voice only has a hint of anger and isn't raised—I'm sure he doesn't want to make a scene in the parking lot of my school.

"I'm not your girlfriend, Edward," I say softly. It's not meant in a mean way—I just didn't think of myself that way, even with all the feelings I have for him. I don't feel like he is mine.

He sighs in frustration. "Okay…so maybe we're not official…but you know what I'm trying to say," he challenges. "Why haven't you returned my calls?"

"I'm sorry…I've been busy…Rosalie…" I falter. How can I explain it to him? I went home a few days after our impromptu Homecoming at the hospital and I've been trying to catch up on school work ever since. Along with spending as much time with Rosalie as possible, trying to figure out what happened with her and Royce. What kind of friend am I that I didn't notice how unhappy she was? That I didn't know her boyfriend was treating her like shit?

"Is she okay?" he asks, genuinely concerned.

"I think so. It's been hard getting her to talk." I shrug my shoulders.

"So you couldn't just call me back to tell me that?" he presses.

"I'm sorry." I don't know what else to say. I don't want to hurt him anymore, but wouldn't he be more hurt down the line when I still can't deal with all of the changes in my life? He should be able to have a normal life. Without me.

"You know I wouldn't treat you like that, Bella. Is that what you're worried about? How Rosalie's boyfriend treated her?" He places his hands on my arms and strokes them gently.

"I know you wouldn't do that, Edward. You're too good for that." You're too good for me.

He smiles just slightly—the first smile I have seen from him today. "Well, then, can I be your boyfriend?"

His green eyes are piercing into mine and I can't look at him anymore. I am ashamed of what I am about to say. "I'm sorry, Edward…I don't want you to be my boyfriend."

His head drops at my answer. I can't say 'sorry' enough. But, I cannot lie to him either—what I've said is both true and untrue. I don't want him to be my boyfriend, to be tied down to me. When he finally talks his voice is hoarse and controlled. "You…don't…want…me?" he says slowly, trying out the words on his tongue, switching around what I have just said to him.

I start to nod, but again I cannot lie to him. "I would never say that…" I finally reply.

"But you don't want me to be your boyfriend? Bella, you're not making sense."

I search around the parking lot for Rosalie—she is making her way down the steps towards us. "Edward, I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. I have to go to my doctor's now. Can we talk later?"

"Why don't I take you to your appointment? Then we can finish this conversation," he says quickly, frustration obvious in his intonation.

"Um, Rose is taking me and I really want to be able to talk to her…"

He nods his answer, his lips pressed together tightly. Rosalie has caught up to where we are now and she waves to Edward, quickly assessing the situation. I follow her to her car and manage to only glance back at him once. His position is the same as the one I've found him in initially—a silhouette of sadness leaning against the bright silver of his car. This is how I've broken his heart, and my own.

-0-

The cancer is slowly eating my body.

His broken heart is eating my soul.

I have something for the cancer:

Liquid cool medicine kills the cancer cells

Seeping into my veins, crashing like the rush of the surf.

My guilt kills the growing feelings in my heart

But the fire still burns, consuming me.

Bright orange flames rising quickly into an intense green shade

Then fading.

-0-

"Alright, spill," Rosalie orders as soon as we're in her car.

"I could say the same to you," I counter. She glances back at me, pursing her lips, debating my answer. I stare at her defiantly as I notice the bruise on her face has morphed into a light yellow-green color, just barely visible under her make-up. She has light purple bags under her bloodshot eyes. "Rose, it's been four days…"

"Bella, you have no idea what you are asking," she replies.

"You're right. I have no idea because I've been so wrapped up in my own life. God, you must hate me." I throw up my arms in frustration. She finally starts the engine after glancing at the clock.

"You're going to be late," she says.

"I don't care."

"That's not what you were just saying to your boyfriend…"

"Edward is not my boyfriend, Rosalie. In fact, he just asked me and I said no."

"Bella," she admonishes and slams on the brakes. I start to think that maybe we shouldn't be having this conversation in the car. "Why would you do that?"

"Why won't you tell me about Royce?" I counter, and then add. "Go slower or we'll end up in the ER instead of at the clinic."

In the end, we both end up spilling our secrets. I tell her about my conversation with Edward first and my reasons for avoiding him since it is a less painful topic. Also, I honestly want her opinion. We are almost to the clinic by the time I am done, so she starts her story and ends up staying throughout my infusion. My mom joins us, and even though Rosalie was initially reluctant to tell me what happened, she is remarkably relieved to tell her story to both of us.

"I hadn't been happy with Royce for a while now," she says, and my mom and I both nod our heads in understanding. "But it took me a long time to realize that…everyone would tell us how perfect we were for each other. And our parents expected us to get married someday, demanded it almost."

At this, I open my mouth to say something, but my mom shakes her head at me. Much as I love Rose, I also know how hard her parents can be on her. How they would preen over how beautiful she is, but never once comment on her biting wit, her overprotective kindness or amazing mechanic skills. How they were ecstatic when Royce and she started dating because it raised their name in society. How they likely didn't take lightly to her dumping him unceremoniously last weekend.

"I think just seeing you these past few weeks, Bella, made me realize how much I was giving up by staying with him. I don't mean just hearing about you and Edward," she pauses, and I understand that she is not jealous even though her tone hints towards wistfulness. "I see how happy he makes you—I know you don't want to hear that right now after what you just told him, but it's true." My mom glances at me, and I mouth "later" to hear, so she reaches over to squeeze Rosalie's hand to encourage her to continue.

"And I have been so scared of losing you, Bella. Not to Edward, but to your, um, cancer," she falters.

"You're not losing me to either," I say softly.

She smiles and continues. "I know. But it made me wonder…what if it was me? Would Royce stay with me? He'd already been cheating on me for months…I just couldn't admit it to myself." Rose continues with the clues on how she figured out what was going on, and how he would belittle her and tell her that no one else would want her, how he would tell her that she was ugly and stupid. I am shocked at her words—that my strong and tenacious friend would believe anything that the jerk said to her. Her voice does not waver throughout; she sounds decidedly matter-of-fact about the whole situation, almost as if it happened to someone else.

"You know why we fought at the dance? He didn't want me to go to the hospital to visit you…then I caught him making out with another girl on the dance floor. I don't even know who she is, but when I told him I was leaving without him and that we were over, he slapped me." My mom gasps at her admission, and glances at me—a look of disbelief that I had not told her that part myself. "Don't worry, Renee—he's never hit me before, and honestly I was just about to punch him myself when Jake beat me to it." She smiles briefly, satisfied with the end result.

"It was far worse when I got home and told my parents that I had broken up with Royce…to say they were furious and disappointed would be an understatement."

"I can talk to your mom, Rosalie," my mom interjects. "Did you tell her everything?"

Rose shakes her head sadly. "It doesn't matter…they still blame me. Like I must have done something wrong that he would be interested in someone else. I think my mom is taking it hard because she feels like they can't be friends with his parents now. Besides, Vanessa's mom already gave her a piece of her mind when they came over on Sunday." She smiles slightly at this revelation, and I smile back—I should have known that Vanessa wouldn't let me down when she said she would stalk Rosalie for me while I was at the hospital. No wonder Rose didn't answer her phone. While my infusion finishes up at the clinic, my mom and I continue to talk through the details with Rosalie and make plans to meet with her mom despite Rose's initial refusal. As we talk, Renee impresses me with her empathy. Much as I like to say I am the one who takes care of my mom, she at least has always genuinely loved me and my friends unconditionally.

On the drive home, Renee muses over what is going on with Rosalie, then abruptly changes topics to ask me why she is fielding so many calls from Edward. Every time I think she is in the dark, she has been there all along. She always says she can read me like an open book, so I figure I might as well tell her everything. Surprisingly, she does not criticize me for my decisions, she simply states her opinion, then concludes that I have to do things my own way.

-0-

On Saturday, Alice drags me to the spa with her to get ready for her school's homecoming dance. I tried protesting all week long, and finally get convinced when she insists that she missed out on the previous weekend with me, and that she is not to be included in the Edward embargo. I scoff at her, insisting that there is no such embargo, treaty, or anything otherwise out of the ordinary, but one look from her shuts me up.

"All right, are you going to tell me what's going on now, Swan?" she asks as we are lying on side-by-side tables in a double massage room. We are both lying on our backs, and I keep my eyes closed so that I am less embarrassed about being naked—even though we have sheets covering us.

"I thought this massage is supposed to be relaxing," I retort. Really she is lucky that she is able to convince me to do anything at the spa. The massage is a compromise since I agree that I am exhausted, although that is nothing new since I have been sick.

"Come on, Bella, or I'll make you get your hair done too," she threatens.

I open my eyes and raise my eyebrow at her. "Ali, I have no hair… it's falling out remember? The less I do to it, the better."

"Okay," she shrugs, unfazed. "Then I'll make you get a facial…"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come on, Bella!" She is so riled up that she starts to sit up and her massage therapist gently pushes her back down. "One minute my brother is uncharacteristically humming around the house, the next he is back to being his usual brooding self."

"Did he ask you to talk to me?" I ask, tentatively.

"No." Alice pauses to consider my answer. "So there is something going on…"

"No, um, not really. I just decided that I'd rather we were just friends, that's all." I try to say this nonchalantly, hoping that I would incur fewer questions, but my voice cracks in the middle of my sentence, betraying me.

"Bella, why?"

"It's complicated, Ali."

"But—"

"It's between me and your brother." I say with finality. "Now can I enjoy my massage?" Alice manages to keep quiet for the rest of the massage and I almost fall asleep with the smoothness of the movements. I say almost because even her silence speaks volumes, and even with the soothing music piping in the background, my mind is going a mile a minute, trying to figure out for myself what exactly is going on between Edward and me.

After we are done at the spa, Alice begs me to stop by her house so she can show off her dress. "Come on," she says. "Esme has been asking when you're going to come by again."

"Another time, Ali," I reply, chewing on my lower lip.

"But my dress! You haven't seen it yet…an Alice Cullen original!"

"Um…"

"You can help me do my make-up and hair," she adds, even though we both know I would be no help in that department, whatsoever. "And Jasper is coming by early for pictures since we didn't get a chance to take many last weekend…You haven't seen him in a while either.

"Edward won't be there," she concludes quietly, sensing where my reluctance is coming from.

I follow her yellow convertible Mustang down PCH and into the winding streets of her neighborhood. In the soft light of day, their house looks even more enchanting than I remembered it. As I walk up the pathway to the front door—while Alice drives down the alleyway to park in the garage—I glance at the French doors to my right with the sleek ebony piano peeking out in snatches. Edward's piano, I presume, as he has not told me that anyone else in his family plays.

Just as I am about to ring the doorbell, the door suddenly opens, and Edward and I gasp simultaneously. My mouth gapes open slightly as I take in the sight in front of me. Edward is dressed in a black suit complete with a black button down shirt and a tie the exact same shade as his eyes. He runs his hand through his messy hair briefly and whispers my name.

"Um, hi Edward," I say when my thought processes return. "Ali was going to show me her dress?"

"Of course," he responds, and steps aside slightly to let me in. "Please come in." I continue to stand awkwardly next to him, now in the entryway of his house.

"You look…nice," I say, glancing up and down quickly again. Understatement of the year.

"Thanks…uh, homecoming," he gestures at himself in explanation, then looks me directly in the eyes. "Bella, can we talk?"

"I don't want you to be late for your date, Edward," I say softly, inexplicably sad that I am pushing him away, yet simultaneously still wishing that I was his date tonight.

He glances at his watch. "I have to pick up some of my friends, and am running a bit late," he admits. "Can I call you tomorrow?" I nod my head, and he pauses for a moment before leaning over to kiss my forehead briefly before heading out the door.

Alice comes waltzing over as he shuts the door, apologizing for keeping me waiting and not meaning it. It has only been moments, but she has somehow managed to change into her dress and fix her hair. The light pink color with hints of brown watercolor images complements Alice's skin tone, with soft sheer fabric cascading down the skirt in an A-line flare in multiple layers. She successfully created an ethereal look that is both vintage fifties in style, but also somewhat fairy like. "Sorry, Bella, I thought he would have left already…I just need to finish my make-up before Jazz gets here." She grabs my hand and I follow her up the stairs, barely able to make any comments about her dress as my mind drifts back to Edward in his suit.

When I get home, I take out one of the homecoming pictures that my mom had developed. I am looking at the camera, eyes half closed and giggling, while Edward has one arm wrapped around my waist. Instead of facing the camera, he is looking intently at me, a look of awe on his face. I tuck the picture into the middle of the pages of my journal, a reminder of a perfect moment.

-0-

Apples.

The scent of the air after the rain.

The forest of my childhood home.

The grass in the springtime being mowed.

The malachite of copper.

A certain type of seaweed.

And the color of Edward's eyes.

-0-

Jake and I find seats on the bottom row of bleachers slightly farther down from the players. We don't want to distract their focus from the game but we want to be close enough to the action to see everything. Covenant's gym only has about ten rows of bleachers on one side of the gym. The side facing us is the theater stage—a small one, not for big productions, just school assemblies.

"I've never seen you in your school uniform, Bells," Jake teases me.

"I usually don't wear it outside of school," I reply. "Would you?"

"Sure, sure. Don't you girls know how you look in them? I have to beg Nessie not to change out of it."

I roll my eyes—Jake is such a typical teen boy. I pause for a moment and raise one eyebrow at the nickname Jake has given my friend. "Nessie?"

"What?" he says, shrugging his shoulders. "She likes it."

"It's cute," I say finally, smiling widely at how well Vanessa and Jake are getting along.

"So is this part of your uniform too?" Jake points to the silk pink and white scarf that I have covering my hair, the one that Angela gave to me on my first admission. I shake my head and look away, not wanting to answer him.

"I've never been inside this gym before either," Jake changes the subject as we wait for the players to be announced.

"It's just a few years old," I admit. "Remember the diocese wouldn't pay for it? We all had to fundraise for it." Jacob snorts at the ridiculousness of the situation. Apparently the higher ups in the archdiocese decided that the girls at Covenant didn't need a gymnasium, even though we have been borrowing other local school's gyms to practice in. We meaning the athletes of my school, not clumsy Bella Swan. "Never mind the fact that you guys have a gym, a separate theater and a pool."

"Well, Bells, you know how important water polo is at Benedict…" I smack his arm but we both laugh. Jake's been on the varsity water polo team since he was a freshman.

I hear a throat being cleared to catch our attention, and only then do I notice that Rosalie has sidled up next to us and she isn't alone. She and Edward are standing to the side of me. Edward looks much taller than I remembered—likely because I'm sitting down—and he glances back and forth between Jacob and me and scowls.

"Bella, I found Edward waiting for you in the parking lot so I brought him in…" Rosalie starts. She has changed out of her uniform, and it reminds me of her appointment.

"Uh, thanks, Rose. Aren't you late for meeting your mom?"

"Yeah. I have to help her with that charity thing," she says apologetically. "Sorry," she mouths at my discomfort as she walks away. I'm certain she will be calling me later. She has nothing to really apologize for—I wouldn't want her to leave Edward just sitting in the parking lot.

"Hi Edward, what are you doing here?" I say, after Rose has left.

"Bella, can I talk to you for a moment outside?" he says tersely. He is still standing in front of us, and they are just starting to announce the players.

"Um, I'm watching the game, Edward." I'm not sure if I want to talk to him when he looks so angry. I feel like I've already said everything I wanted to say to him. Truthfully, I'm afraid I won't be strong enough to stick to my decision, especially considering how gorgeous he is. It's much easier to talk to him on the phone since I can't get lost in the mesmerizing intensity of his eyes.

Jake chooses that moment to stand up and offer his hand to Edward. "Hi Edward. Good to see you again, man. Are you here to watch my girlfriend, Vanessa, kick ass on the b-ball court? Come join us." Jake says smoothly, while gesturing over to the space on the bleachers next to me.

Edward's shoulders relax immediately at the mention of Vanessa and he drops down to sit next to me. "Thanks," he says sheepishly, then turns to me. "Can we at least talk later?" I nod my head. I'm still amazed at Jacob's ability to read a situation so well, and then diffuse it. Of course Edward would see me with Jacob and assume that I've been playing the friend card because I'm interested in someone else. That's just his jealous nature.

We watch the game as Vanessa and the rest of the Covenant Cardinals do kick ass on the court. As the game goes on and both Jake and I cheer Vanessa on, Edward relaxes more and more. In fact, he and Jake get along pretty well—better than I would have thought possible. At some point during the game, Mr. Ash—my English teacher and also an assistant coach—glances over at me sandwiched between these two huge and handsome guys. He gives me a thumbs up, which I know does not indicate approval. When I smile at him reassuringly, he smiles genuinely back.

"What's that about?" Edward leans over to ask quietly in my ear.

"He's checking to make sure I'm okay," I reply honestly, laughing a little at my teacher worrying about either Jake or Edward. "Mr. Ash is overprotective of all of the students."

"Hmmm," Edward muses, cocking an eyebrow.

"It's not like that!" I add, admonishing him. "He's happily married…he's like a big brother. At prom, he's been known to toss tee-shirts to students to cover up if their dresses are too…um…revealing."

At the end of the game, Jake wanders over to chat with Vanessa's younger siblings and mom who came to watch the game and Edward leads me outside the gym. His hand is wrapped around mine and he pulls me insistently but not forcefully along with him. When we are alone, he drops my hand and then looks into my eyes as if he's searching for something. "You've been avoiding me since Homecoming," he says finally, and I notice the hurt look in his intense eyes.

"Homecoming? You mean yours or mine?" My self-preservation wins out—I decide to play dumb.

"Yours," Edward replies, his voice low and tense.

"You mean, since my last hospitalization—"

"You know what I mean," he interrupts me. His relaxed manner during the game has completely evaporated and I know it's my fault. Yet, no matter what I do or don't do…I am always to blame. He shouldn't have to visit me in the hospital instead of going to a dance. He was able to go to his Homecoming dance at least. He should be able to lead a normal life—finish up his senior year and go to college, have a girlfriend who isn't in and out of the hospital. He doesn't need to add the rollercoaster that is my life to everything that goes along with his. He deserves better.

"Edward," I say his name slowly and quietly. Reverently. And I force myself to finally look him in the eyes. "I just can't deal with all of this right now."

"Are you seeing someone else?" His voice drops to a whisper, as if he's afraid to ask the question. His hand twitches—almost involuntarily—then he lifts it to stroke the side of my face lightly.

"No." I pause, still feeling the current from his touch. I have only ever been honest with Edward and now I seem to be giving him half answers. I take a breath, then continue, "I've never felt this way about someone else, the way I feel about you."

"Then what is it?" he asks, brows furrowing in anguish.

"Edward…I'm dying." I hesitate, slightly, trying to keep my tears at bay and also wanting to give a chance for the words to sink in. "I can't have you go through all of this too…"

"You're not dying, Bella," he says firmly.

"I am. I have leukemia. I'm dying, Edward." It's the first time I have admitted this particular fear to anyone, including myself. Somehow saying the words out loud makes it seem more real. I have worried about other things, mostly the inconvenience of my leukemia—the hospitalizations, the re-arrangement of my class schedule, the side effects of chemo, the constant worry of my parents over me, the inevitably mounting medical bills. But not about dying…I have not worried about my mortality at all. I feel the warm wetness on my cheeks before I can taste the saltiness. Immediately, Edward pulls me into his arms. Great. I'm crying in his arms, once again. I can't deny myself the safety I feel wrapped up in Edward, however, and I find myself snuggling further into his chest.

"But you're not dying…you're getting chemo…Dr. Weber says everything is going well. Don't give up on yourself…that's when you give in to the cancer." I nod my head imperceptibly, then pull back slightly to look at Edward. There's nothing but conviction in his eyes. I pull back further as I hear a throat clearing behind me.

"Everything okay out here, Miss Swan?" Mr. Ash's usual light and joking tone is stern. I turn to look at him and wipe my tears away quickly.

"I'm fine, Mr. Ash," I say as reassuringly as possible. Discretely I give him a thumbs up sign, letting him know that Edward isn't bothering me. He nods and starts to walk away. "Um, Mr. Ash? I'd like you to meet Edward Cullen. Edward, this is my favorite English teacher, Mr. Ash." Mr. Ash takes three quick strides over to meet Edward and they shake hands briefly. After a moment, Mr. Ash excuses himself but not before raising an eyebrow at me with a smirk. I know he's going to give me shit about this later; I just hope he doesn't tease me in front of the whole class.

Edward laughs as he catches the smirk. "I can see how he's like a big brother. An annoying one. He reminds me of Emmett."

"Emmett likes to make sure none of the girls are giving you trouble?" I tease.

"More Alice than me…Just wait 'til he hears about Jasper. Anyway…before we were interrupted, love?"

I sigh—I knew I wouldn't be able to get away with not finishing this conversation. "Okay, I'm not dying…but I still can't deal with…all this…and having a boyfriend at the same time." I am not dying; I have to believe this in order to get through all the hell that is chemotherapy.

"But you're not dating anyone else?" He reaches out to hold one of my hands in his. He envelops it gently then swings both of our hands slightly back and forth between us.

"No. I…I can't be dating right now…can we still be friends?" I look up at Edward, wanting so badly to be able to read his mind. Our eyes interlock for a second then he drops his gaze quickly.

"Friends…" The single word is infused with uncertainty and sadness.

"I don't want to lose you," I add immediately.

"Friends…okay. But, Bella, friends don't avoid each other and they call each other back…if we're friends, then we should be able to hang out…" He finally looks up again at me and I'm drowning in the seaweed green, begging for him to understand. If I were a stronger person, maybe I would just cut him out of my life completely. I tried to create some distance by not answering his calls and texts. But, I am too selfish to let him go.

"Okay, I promise not to avoid you anymore…"

"Then I'm willing to be friends. For now. But, you have to know that I'm going to wait for you, Bella. As long as it takes. You're worth it." He pulls me tightly into his arms and rests his cheek on the top of my head before shifting to kiss my forehead. I quickly place a kiss on his chest as well.

I want to tell him not to wait for me. I want to tell him that it's okay if he wants to date someone else. Instead I say the only thing I can say with sincerity, "Thank you, Edward."

A/N: Obviously some text is borrowed from SM's New Moon. Much as I enjoyed Twilight, I thought SM improved her writing vastly in New Moon and it is my favorite book of the series. Which one is your fave?