Quick update- I know! But I must let all you wonderful readers know in advance that my exams are coming up, and so I won't update too frequently. So just expect updates when unexpected! :) Enjoy!

Engaged

"No, I will not!"- I yelled, and slammed my bedroom door shut.

Fuming, I paced up and down in front of my dresser. I caught sight of my expression in the mirror, and nearly laughed out loud. I looked ridiculous, my face half made-up, and angry blotches of colour on my pale cheeks, my hair standing out haphazardly, my curls tangling on my shoulders.

It was getting more and more unbearable. That ass Charles Evenson had gone to my parents, demanding(yes, not asking, demanding) my hand in marriage. I was furious. My parents were thrilled, though, more thrilled than I had imagined they would be.

"Charles Evenson is a wonderful man, Esme," my mother had said excitedly. "We know his family, and his temperament is exactly right for you!"

"Absolutely not!"-I had said heatedly.

While I may have been confused in the park after the kiss(sometimes I think that kiss was a sort of bribe), I set my thoughts straight when I came back home, and realised I simply couldn't marry Charles, not if I wanted to fulfil my dreams.

My parents were furious that I was rejecting such a "perfect" offer. Even Mother was angry, the first time in many years, I think. Well, no matter. I would not change my mind.

A quick rapping on my door roused me out of my tempestuous trance.

"What?"-I snapped.

"I want to talk." It was Elizabeth.

"Leave me alone." I mumbled sullenly.

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

Damn. I'd forgotten. She was back for Christmas, but she had to go back to finishing school soon. Apparently, the very next day.

With a theatrical sigh for Elizabeth's benefit, I opened the door. There she stood, smartly dressed, looking older than her fifteen years.

Elizabeth and I had continued to bond as time flew, regardless of the age gap. She could still be very egoistically irritating, but I found to my surprise that we actually thought alike. When we weren't fighting like dogs, we were as thick as thieves together.

She glided inside, chin held high. One of many things learnt at finishing school- the chic walk. I didn't really mind. I knew I myself had that gait sometimes. It was fashionable at the moment.

I shut the door behind her, and sat next to her on the bed. She was sitting ramrod straight. I, however, lounged back into the pillows and against the headboard. I saw her irritation at that with some amusement. Elizabeth hated the postures- she had always lounged about everywhere.

"I want to tell you something, Esme," she began seriously, a little stiffly.

"Well?"-I asked.

She hesitated. I was curious- I had never seen her look so serious and mature.

"I think you should marry him."

My eyes widened. "Who, Charles?"-I asked, surprised.

Elizabeth gave a brief nod.

"But why?"- I was mortified.

"It would be… good for you."

"You sound like them!"-I hissed.

She shook her head. "You don't understand. You're old, Esme."

I stared at her as though I'd been slapped. "Old?I'm only twenty-two!"

Elizabeth shot up, and cried, "Only twenty-two? Esme, that's too old! I myself will be married in a year or two- and you are so much older than me!"

I stood up, too. "A year or two? You foolish, foolish girl! Throwing away your freedom so soon!" I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe Elizabeth had become so staid and conservative.

Elizabeth stared at me. "You make it sound like a- a prison term."

"That's exactly what it is!"-I said fervently. "A life sentence! Doomed forever to sit at home, mind the kiddies, and keep the table forever full."

"It isn't like that," she said softly. "And besides," she added, a hint of her sarcasm seeping into her voice, "you like minding the kiddies."

I just shook my head, unbelieving that I was having this conversation with Elizabeth, of all people. "What brought this on?"-I asked finally.

"I'm engaged." Elizabeth said matter-of-factly.

There was such silence after that, that not only could you hear a pin drop, you could probably hear the air rushing past as it fell.

"Are. You. Mad."- I breathed.

Elizabeth sat down again. "No," she said composedly. "I'm in love."

"You're fifteen! Fifteen!"

She looked at me deadpan. "Remember that party where you stole all of Eleanor's men away? You weren't much older than I am now."

I froze. It was true, that.

"So, you see, you mustget married. Before I do. It would look bad otherwise- for you. Especially since I'm so much younger than you."

For a long time, I had never really considered the difference in mine and Elizabeth's ages. Now it seemed to rise like a stark wall between us, separating us, putting us in different worlds.

I forced myself to speak. "And it has to be Charles?"

Elizabeth had a ready answer. "Better him than all of the other gutless maggots who were courting you."-she said contemptuously.

I usually didn't mind Elizabeth's dark humour, but this harsh tone of hers had me wincing.

"What if there's someone better out there? What if should wait?"

Elizabeth looked at me earnestly for a moment, then sighed. "I really didn't want to tell you this, Esme. But I think you should know."

"What?"

"I don't think there are going to be too many suitors in the future."

I was surprised and angry. "Why the hell not?"-I asked bluntly.

"There are rumours," she said, apologetically. "About you. About why you're staying unmarried. Someone saw you kissing a man in the park the other day." I was furious beyond words. "And then there's the fact that you adore Edward so much. More than you would love just a brother…"

"What? The damned gossiping hell-cats!"-I screamed.

Elizabeth stood up again quickly, and placed a long-fingered delicate hand on my shoulder. "Calm down, Esme-"

"I will not!"-I yelled, and pushed her hand away violently. "And you listen to these tales, these damned fabrications?"

"Of course I don't!"-Elizabeth said indignantly. "I heard Leslie Pikes talking, and gave her a whole mouthful!" After a pause, she said, "More than you're giving me right now." There was pleading in her tone. It was the first time I'd ever heard Elizabeth plead. To me.

There was a pause. I struggled to calm myself down. "I can't believe they're saying all that about me."

Elizabeth shrugged. "You just rubbed off them the wrong way. You're too independent for their liking. They're just malicious."

I continued in the same careful monotone. "Anyway, the man in the park was Charles. He had just proposed."

Elizabeth said coldly, "I see. So you were kissing him because you said no? Or was it before that?"

"It wasn't like that!"-I said hurriedly. "Charles… sort of- pounced. I didn't really have a choice."

There was a pause. Awkward, uncomfortable. Then Elizabeth said, "Alright, tell me, Esme. When he kissed you, were you… indifferent?"

I turned away, slightly embarrassed. It was strange for me to talk openly about such things. It was still more strange that I was talking about such things with my littlest sister.

"No," I mumbled, cheeks reddening.

"You didn't mind?"

"No." I was blushing furiously.

"Then it's love."- she said confidently. "You'll learn to love him Esme, trust me."

I turned to her. "You seem to know a lot about it." My tone was almost accusatory.

She just shrugged.

"This young man of yours," I said suddenly. "What is his name?"

Elizabeth hesitated. "Jonas. And he's twenty-four. And that's all I'm telling you."

But she had told me enough. "Twenty-four? Elizabeth Marie Platt, are you-"

Elizabeth cut in immediately, "When you met Carlisle Cullen, you were sixteen and he was twenty-three."

I paused with my mouth open. Goodness, Elizabeth knew just what could faze me. And fazed I was.

"Eleanor told me," she said, reading my expression correctly.

Then Elizabeth grinned. "You see, Esme, I'm just you in miniature. Slightly better, but a lot like you all the same." She stood up and went to the door. As she opened it, she said, without looking at me, "Just think about what I've told you. Don't be too hasty." She stepped outside, and then glanced at me over her shoulder, saying as a parting thought-"Oh, and about that little Jonas thing. Don't tell Momma and Dad."

And she chic-walked away, leaving me in much turmoil in her wake.

It is strange how you can ignore the most obvious things in the world, but once you are made aware of it, you never stop seeing it and you never can ignore it again.

Once Elizabeth told me about the rumours around town, I realised just how much of a gossip-topic I'd become. Whispers followed me everyone, and when people enquired about Edward, they did it a shade too innocently. Most of the catty older ladies asked me the same question-"And when will we hear the wedding bells ring?"

My vague replies always brought a rather nasty gleam in their eyes, as though I had given them new information to talk about and spread about town.

And that situation just plain frustrated me. Everything I said and did was suspiciously scandalous to those damned gossiping women.

It didn't take long for me to realise that what Elizabeth had said made sense. If I set off to become a schoolteacher just yet, the worst possible rumours would circulate, and since I wouldn't be in town anymore, they would circulate quite openly. And my parents would be left to bear the shame. I had to admit, bearing my public image in mind, that it was highly unlikely that I would go away to become a schoolteacher, of all things.

Meanwhile, Charles just hadn't given up on me. He often shadowed me wherever I went, and made himself a very well-known presence at my home. Perhaps he could see that my no wasn't final, perhaps he could see me deliberate. Perhaps he knew me well enough to know that I would never do anything to break my parents' hearts. Or perhaps he wanted to give me another dose of his breathless kissing, just to facilitate my final decision.

Whatever it was, I never let myself be alone in Charles' company for more than five minutes. I absolutely refused to see him otherwise.

On one such meeting, when we were dangerously alone in my home's back garden, I asked him quickly, before he could make any advances-"Charles, could I ask you something?"

Already he had my hand in his- a firm tight grasp that made my fingers go numb. "Of course," he murmured.

"If I marry you-"

He looked up at me. "Don't you mean 'when'?" -he grinned, cutting in.

"Charles, I'm serious!"-I chided him.

"My mistake."-he said smoothly. Then, putting his chin in his free hand, he looked at me with an expression of rapt attention. "You were saying?"

I took a deep breath. "If I marry you, would you still let me become a schoolteacher? After we were married?"

There was a pause.

Then he said slowly-"You know, Esme, I never really understood why you wanted to do this."

"I've told you." And I had. Hundreds of times but he just didn't understand how it could mean so much to me.

He hesitated again, then said firmly, "No. I won't. Why should you go around teaching nasty little ragamuffins? You'll have your own children to look after. That'll be your job anyway, whether you like it or not."

I was quiet, disappointment spreading through me.

With an effort at humour, he added, "But you never know. There's the war, see? You might have to work then."

"I suppose," I said noncommittally. And that was that.

For another month I deliberated. What Elizabeth had told me kept running through my mind. Slowly, I began to realise that marrying Charles was inevitable. It was the only way out from which I could emerge scot-free.

My father added on to the advice. He sat me down and explained my sense of duty and responsibility at every opportune moment, so much so, that I began to absorb what he said. Pretty soon, I was just fed up of the whole business. I just wanted to get it over with. I knew Father would never forgive me if I didn't do this.

So, finally, I accepted Charles' proposal. And I was officially engaged.