A/N:

I had this chapter done early and beta'd, so I thought I'd post it a day or so earlier than normal so that I'm not sitting and staring at it.

Thanks to my beta Lindz26, who apparently has a crush on Bella now. lol. That's okay, I have a crush on ballsy Bella, too. And a thanks to my pre-reader Renas40, who continues to amaze me with her sharp attention to detail. God, woman!

Here we go, shifting gears…


I was at a loss for what to say. If I even knew what was in my pocket right now, then I could decide if I wanted to tell the truth or not, but, as it was, I had no clue what was in there. For all I knew, she could've slipped me some poisonous rat repellent disguised as candy. But, whatever was in there wasn't heavy, so maybe that wasn't it. That meant it definitely wasn't more quarters, thank God.

Emmett raised an eyebrow at me, probably because I still hadn't replied to him. His stance against the door frame was unwavering, but his eyes would dart down to my pocket every now and then.

"Ed, dude, what did she give you?" he asked impatiently.

I shrugged as I walked past him and out of the classroom. "No clue," was all I could say. Hopefully, he would leave it at that. But in a flash, he reached into my pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. My reflexes weren't quick enough to grab it back from him. "Emmett! What the hell?"

He opened the folded note, his eyes scanning it greedily. I made another move to grab it back, but he blocked me with his arm, still reading. I began to panic. What could she have written on there? I tried to recall our conversation in class to see if it was in response to anything we'd spoken about, but we hadn't really even talked besides me trying to get reactions out of her.

Emmett laughed and pocketed the note. I glared at him and crossed my arms over my chest. All the students were hurrying to their next class, but we were still standing at the far end of the hallway on the second floor.

"Em," I scolded, "will you give that back to me, please?"

He nodded coolly. "Yeah, sure, I'll give it back to you," he said, "if you tell me when you started hanging with Bella."

I groaned. This was my worst fear realized; one of my friends finding out I'd been talking to Bella. I wasn't sure why that would be so bad, but it just was to me. Bella wasn't someone I would ever consider hanging out with, but for some inexplicable reason, I'd been drawn to her the last several days. I should've stopped talking to her after the day she gave me that note not to buy her another apple…but I didn't.

"I'm not really hanging out with Bella," I told him, and began walking towards the staircase when I noticed that class would be starting soon. "She's in Cooking with me, so we've spoken once or twice."

He chuckled and followed me. "Once or twice? I don't think so. Not from the looks of the note she gave you."

I raised an eyebrow. Now I was desperate to know what it said. Did I even want to know? "What did it say?"

"That she loves you," he said.

My eyes grew wide, and I froze halfway down the stairs. "What?" I choked loudly, my entire body stiffening.

He broke out into a grin and howled with laughter. "Your face! Classic, man. You're gullible as hell," he joked through obnoxious guffaws.

I narrowed my eyes and continued down the steps. "What were you doing outside my class, anyway?"

"I told you. I'm bodyguarding you from Tyler."

"I don't think 'bodyguarding' is an adjective, Em," I said.

"Ten bucks says it is."

I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, I said I didn't need protection. Tyler's nothing but talk." Tyler Crowley was on the football team, and although he probably would want to deck me, he wouldn't because he was trying to get a football scholarship. He'd be an even bigger dumbass if he jeopardized that.

Just as the bell rang, we walked into AP Lit. The television on wheels was set up at the front of the class, which meant we were going to be tortured with a movie today. Mr. Berty told us we'd be watching Much Ado About Nothing. Since I'd already seen it, I was glad just to sit back and dwell in my own frantic thoughts about Bella and the note she gave me…even though the note wasn't in my possession. On top of that, Emmett kept giving me sly glances out of the corner of his eye with a smirk, and it was bugging the hell out of me.

When the lights were off and the movie was ten minutes in, Emmett passed me a bunched up piece of paper. My heart began to race and I bit my lower lip lightly when I realized it could be Bella's note. As quietly as I could, I opened it under my desk anxiously, in between my legs.

What's going on with you and Bella?

I looked over at Emmett, who was doing a poor job of staring at the television screen. I set the crinkled paper on my desk and wrote underneath his words.

I told you. We talked a few times in Cooking. That's all.

Mr. Berty was engrossed in a book at his desk, so I threw the note on Emmett's desk. He opened the note and hunched over as he read it. I took a moment to look at the TV screen. Emma Thompson, who played Beatrice, was speaking in confusing riddles as she argued with Kenneth Branagh's character, Benedick. They both couldn't understand each other because they were too much alike. It sort of reminded me of Bella and myself. I couldn't say we were alike in any way, but we definitely couldn't relate to each other. She was mildly crazy, while I was actually sane. She seemed like she was from the rough side of the tracks, while I grew up in above-average comfort.

A balled up paper landed in my lap. Emmett was snickering to himself about something, and I quickly opened the note.

So, was that rumor true that she gave you head? How was it? Include details.

I glared at Emmett, who was still smiling like an idiot. I figured he was joking, but it wasn't funny at all. I bunched up the note and shoved it in my bag, not bothering to reply to him. Emmett actually pouted.

I knew Emmett loved Rose, it was obvious in the way he always had his tongue shoved down her throat, but I also knew that he was infatuated by Bella, just like every other goon in this school.

That means you're just as much a goon as all the other guys.

Yeah, but I had actually interacted with her on occasion, so I had more of a reason than any other guy. And it wasn't like I was infatuated because I wanted to sleep with her. I just wanted to figure her out.

Another note landed in my lap. I thought Emmett had gotten the message that I didn't want to pass notes anymore with him. I reluctantly opened it.

YOU REALLY WANNA BE "BUDDIES"? MEET ME AT THE LOT TONIGHT AT 8.

I raised an eyebrow. The writing was in harsh block letters, much like Bella's writing. I looked at Emmett, who was observing me carefully. I brought my attention back to the note, reading it several times, trying to absorb what it said.

She wanted to meet me. She wanted to be friends. Or maybe it was all an elaborate hoax to get me to leave her alone. What were the chances that I'd meet her and then get the wind knocked out of me by one of the La Push guys? The odds were stacked high. But, then again, maybe she actually did want to hang out. That would be weird. What would we even do? Talk? We weren't really good at doing that on a daily basis, so how would we even manage a conversation?

Wait. Am I actually considering meeting her?

No, I couldn't. Not only would that entail me breaking my father's rules, when I was supposed to be grounded, but that would also mean that I'd be crossing a line that I didn't think I wanted to cross. The fact of the matter was, Bella and I couldn't be friends, even if she was pulling the wool over my eyes or not. All my friends were good people. They never got in trouble and they worked hard in school. Mind you, Emmett was a bit perverted, but we weren't all perfect. Bella, on the other hand, she was just all wrong. She wasn't a good person—at least, from what I knew. She'd gotten arrested, hung out with guys who bullied the student body for fun, and she was ruining her lungs by smoking every day. All of that wasn't me. So, Bella and I couldn't be friends at all. Friends had to be like-minded, which we weren't.

"Mr. Cullen, is there something more interesting under your desk than the movie?" Mr. Berty spoke loudly over the television.

I quickly crumpled up the note and kept it hidden in my fist. A few quiet snickers sounded around me. "No, Mr. Berty," I replied, and pretended to watch the movie.

"Hey, Ed," I heard Emmett whisper. I glanced at him quickly, but tried to keep my focus on the television screen. "Are you really going to see her tonight?"

I knew that I couldn't. All the way around, it was best that I didn't even acknowledge Bella from now on. I was getting way too wrapped up in her, and it had to stop. I would make sure of it.

"No," I whispered back, rolling the note unconsciously in my hand.

X-X-X-X

"Wanna order a pizza?" Jasper asked me.

We were lounging out in the living room, finishing our homework. I always had a habit of doing my homework first thing Friday afternoon after I came home from school, that way I didn't have to do anything across the weekend.

"No pizza!" my mom shouted from the kitchen. "I'm making dinner right now."

"Aunt Esme, it's Friday. Do we really have to eat normal food?" Jasper questioned.

"Yes," she replied sternly.

Jasper groaned, and I laughed. Once my mom would decide she wanted to cook something, we had to eat it, no questions asked. It wasn't like my mom was a bad cook, so I wasn't sure why Jasper was complaining. I'd take my mom's cooking over any greasy pizza.

"Can I borrow your Environment Science textbook?" Jasper queried.

"Yep," I answered, and flipped open the flap of my bag on the couch next to me.

Just as I was taking out the book, the front door opened. My dad walked into the entryway, set down his briefcase, and shook off his coat. He looked into the living room at us.

I hadn't really spoken to my dad since he'd taken away my car. Things were pretty tense between us, and I was still angry at him for not letting me explain that I didn't give Alec those bruises. It wasn't as if he made a substantial effort to talk to me, anyway. If he had something to say to me, he'd make my mom pass the message along. I could tell my mom was getting upset having to do it, but I couldn't figure out why she was, then. My mom had never been afraid to tell my father off in the past, so why now? Maybe she also believed that I was getting into fights and beating up kids.

"What are you two working on?" my father asked.

"Environmental Science," Jasper answered, and took the book from my tightened grasp.

I turned my attention back to my homework, not bothering to answer him.

"And you, Edward?" my dad questioned.

I shrugged, without looking up. "AP Literature," I muttered.

"Good," he said simply after a few moments, and walked into the kitchen.

I could hear my parents quietly arguing in the kitchen, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Jasper looked up in the direction of the kitchen, then back at me.

"You think they're getting a divorce?" Jasper asked.

I frowned and strained to listen to what my parents were quietly fighting about. They couldn't be getting a divorce. They'd been together since…forever. There was no way. Then again, that could explain why they were fighting all the time, and why my father was more stern than usual lately. I couldn't even imagine what would happen if they did separate. Where would they both go? Who would I live with? The thought of our family being separated would destroy me. As strained as our family had been lately, it was still a family. These days, families were always being torn apart by divorce, and I hated to think that that could be us.

I didn't want to listen to this anymore, so I packed up my homework in my bag and slung it over my shoulder. "I'm going up to my room."

Later that evening, I had nothing to do but lay on my bed. I could've watched TV, but I didn't want to risk getting yelled at.

Dinner had been really awkward. No one had spoken a word to each other, except to Jasper. My father wouldn't acknowledge my mother and vice versa. I, on the other hand, wasn't even there to them. If I'd choked on my mother's lamb roast, they still wouldn't have realized I was in their presence. Jasper talked to my dad for a bit about some special effects course he wanted to take that taught people how to design effects for film and television, then he spoke to my mother about Alice and how her parents wanted to meet him, and finally, he tried to speak to me about my swim meet on Saturday. I pretty much just nodded and barely listened to what he said. Thankfully, he gave up after a while.

I looked around my room for something to do. Everything was neatly in place; the clothes in my closet nicely hung, my desk organized, my floor completely bare besides a gray rug. Any adult would take a look at my room and say that I was a clean person, but to someone my age, they'd say I was boring. I was beginning to think I actually was. It was a Friday night, and I was locked in my room with nothing to do. The highlight of my evening had been doing my AP Civics homework.

Normally, on a Friday evening, I'd be out with my friends, either at one of their houses, or hanging out in Port Angeles. We'd go see a movie; get some dinner. The girls would run around afterward to look at the shops, while Emmett, Jasper, and I would busy ourselves in the music store, which also had a bunch of DVDs. I'd always end up leaving with at least three new movies to watch. Jasper would usually buy some lame indie band's CD.

I glanced over at my alarm clock. 7:35 p.m.

Bella's note said to meet her at eight. Only twenty-five minutes away. It normally took me fifteen minutes to get to school, depending on how fast I drove. I could be there in ten minutes if I went really fast.

NO.

Was I really back to contemplating this? I absolutely could NOT go see her because, one, I didn't have a car, and two, I…I just couldn't! Although, if I was really quiet, I could sneak downstairs and grab my car keys from my father's den…

And, we were back to this.

Why did I keep trying to think of ways to see her? I couldn't lie that I wasn't interested to know what exactly she had planned. Then again, I was definitely not interested in getting sucker punched for a second time.

I looked at the clock again. 7:37 p.m. Twenty-three minutes to go.

What if she had something important to say? No, she said she just wanted to be friends. But friends could have important things to say, right? If we were going to be friends, we'd have a lot of important things to say—No! There was absolutely no way I could be her friend. Not a chance in hell.

I cast the clock a sideways glance. 7:38 p.m.

Crap.

I stood and went over to my bag. I retrieved my cell phone and stuck it in my back pocket. As quietly as I could, I opened my door, listening out for my parents. They must've all ready gone up to their bedroom on the third floor, which was good because they wouldn't hear me go downstairs. When I stepped into the hallway, I could hear Jasper playing video games inside his bedroom. He was clearly playing one of those shooting games, because he was making mock firing sounds with his mouth.

I crept down the stairs, stopping abruptly when the floorboards creaked underneath. When I got to the last step, I sighed in relief, knowing half the journey was almost over. I glanced towards the living room, just in case my mother or father were still up. All the lights were off, which meant I was in the clear. My father's study door usually made a bit of noise when it opened, so I'd have to go slow and open it little by little to try to avoid sounds. I grabbed onto the gold knob firmly, turning it just a bit…

"What are you doing?"

I released the knob and spun around. Jasper was standing at the top of the staircase, looking curiously at me. He walked down a few steps and eyed the door to my father's den.

"Are you trying to go into his study?" he asked in a frantic whisper.

It had always been an unspoken rule that we weren't allowed to go into my dad's den unless he allowed us to. As kids, when Jasper would come over with his parents, we'd pretend to go on safaris around the house, and the den was always the forbidden place where the monsters dwelled. We'd end up shooting the den door with our finger guns and then declare that the monsters were dead because of our bravery.

"He'll go nuts if he catches you," Jasper said.

Well, I wasn't planning on getting caught, now was I?

"Just go back to your room," I whispered. It didn't concern him. If he could've just minded his own business, I might've been out of here quicker. I tried to refrain from instinctively checking my watch to see how much time I had left.

Realization etched on his face suddenly. "Are you trying to get your keys?"

How did he know? Since when did he become the all-knowing Swami Jasper? If I told him the truth, maybe he'd leave me alone. My fear was that my parents would find out. Jasper never intentionally spilled my secrets, but he had a loose mouth. I knew that he would try to keep it a secret, but it may slip if he were prodded.

I began to wonder if this was even worth it, going out to meet a girl who wanted to be friends, but usually ignored me. It was risky, and I could get in even more trouble if my parents found out I was missing from my room, not that they ever checked on me after they went to bed, but you never know. Was Bella Swan worth it?

"Yeah," I said honestly. "You're not going to stop me, are you?"

The corners of his mouth turned up slowly. "Nah, but I don't think you should take your car."

I raised an eyebrow. My other choice would be to walk or steal my neighbor's five year old daughter's pink tricycle. I refused to do either.

Jasper walked over to the door and grabbed his keys off the key rack. "Take mine." He threw them at me. I caught them with one hand.

"You're giving me your car?" I asked.

He laughed quietly. "I'm not giving you my Saab, but you can borrow it for tonight. I won't even ask you where you're going." He shifted his eyes. "Just don't dent it or anything," he added.

He was willingly lending me his car. Hell, I could never do the same for him. I'd freak out that he'd dirty it or forget to put gas in it or something. "Wow," was all I could say. "Thanks, Jazz. I appreciate this…" It was considerably nice of him, considering I didn't treat him all that well most of the time.

He slapped a hand on my shoulder. "No prob, man. I'll cover for you if your parents try to look for you."

"What about if they see your car's gone?" I questioned.

"Don't worry; I'll take care of it," he promised. He walked over to the door, unlocked it, and turned the handle quietly. "See ya later, Ed."

I nodded and walked past the threshold towards the driveway. I heard the door shut softly behind me, and the kitchen light flicked on. I exhaled shakily as I approached Jasper's Saab and manually opened the door. There was a McDonald's bag on the driver's seat, which caused me to groan. I grabbed it roughly and threw it in the back. Taking one last look at the house, I saw the kitchen light go off. I climbed in and instantly felt cramped. Jasper had shorter legs than me, even though we were roughly the same height. I adjusted the seat and mirrors, then stuck the key into the ignition. When the engine roared to life, I nearly had a panic attack. That sounded way too loud; my parents surely had to have heard it. I watched the third floor of the house for any lights turning on, but nothing happened. I put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway smoothly, then into drive.

I felt a sort of blissful freedom as I drove down my street towards the main highway. It was surreal. Almost as if I had been locked up in prison for years and was finally venturing out into the world on my own. I knew this liberation, though unbeknownst to my parents, would be short lived, but I decided I would take full advantage of it while I could, even if it was just for one night.

I looked at the time on the dashboard. 7:48 p.m. I could make it there in ten minutes if I hurried. Hopefully I wouldn't run into any red lights on the way.

I raced over to Forks High, smiling the whole way, yet incredibly anxious to see what was going to happen. I was also a bit nervous. I would be spending more than a few minutes with Bella. What would I say to her? I suddenly became very aware of what I was wearing. I had on a dark brown cashmere sweater and jeans, but my hair wasn't gelled like it normally was. I'd washed it all out in the shower when I got home from school. Had I remembered to brush my teeth after I ate? Why was I even worried about that?

I pulled into the darkened lot a minute after eight. My headlights illuminated part of the parking lot, and from what I could see, there wasn't a red Chevy nearby. I looked behind me onto the street to see if she'd parked there instead, but the street was completely void of cars. I cut the engine and opened the door. The car beeped incessantly until I shut the door. I grabbed my phone from my back pocket and checked the time.

8:02 p.m.

Had I read the time wrong on the note? Maybe it said nine and I was almost an hour early. I looked around again. There was no one in sight. The school was completely dark. I began to get even more nervous. She was definitely messing with me earlier. There was no way she'd want to meet me here. This had to be a trick of hers, and the La Push guys were going to pop out any minute and take turns punching me. My body would be found on the side of the road after they ran over it a few times with their cars.

What the hell am I doing here? This is ridiculous.

This wasn't me, sneaking out of my house to see some girl who wasn't even here. I needed to go home and back into my room where I was at least warm and safe. Hell, I would even challenge Jasper to a round of Nintendo Brawl, if he wanted.

I was just about to grab the door handle, when I heard some leaves rustling. I turned my head towards the bushes, but I couldn't see a damn thing. There weren't even lights on along the street to illuminate the way. A few twigs snapped, and I jumped. I desperately needed to leave now.

"Cutting it fine, huh, Richie?"

I could see the outline of a woman in the dark heading over to the car. "Bella?" I called out dumbly.

She appeared on the other side of the car and slowly walked around to me. "Who the hell else would it be?" She stopped when she reached me. In the darkness, I could faintly make out that she was wearing her standard black tank, black jeans, blue eye shadow, and red lipstick. She pursed her lips as she eyed the car. She huffed and began walking away.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

She stopped and turned around. "Well, you wanted to be buddies, so let's go." She spun back around and headed towards the bushes.

"Wait," I called out, jogging up to her. "Are we going behind there?" I pointed to the wild shrubbery lining the side of the parking lot.

"Can you not see that's where I'm fucking walking?" she asked angrily, and began muttering something. All I could catch was "I swear…don't…why…you"

"What?" I questioned.

She sighed dramatically. "Are you fucking coming or what?"

"Yes," I replied meekly, though I was scared out of my mind.

"Well, then, hurry the fuck up," she demanded, and turned towards the bushes. She separated the leaves, and walked through.

I had to admit, I'd been curious why she always disappeared into the bushes and what was behind there. A part of me wanted to know, but another part didn't want to. I wanted to stay naïve and just imagine what I thought was behind there. Over time, a lot of theories had been cooked up about what was there and why Bella and the La Push guys always vanished there. For a while, people were convinced that they murdered some freshman kid and hid the body in the woods, but then it turned out that the kid transferred to the high school in Port Angeles, so that rumor was pretty much debunked. There had been several other rumors about it, but most were just ludicrous to the point of not being plausible.

I pushed apart some leaves and tried to step through. The sticks were sharp and scraped against my shirt, poking me in the chest. I screwed my eyes shut as I tried to maneuver out of the shrubs' leafy claws. When I got out of there, I came into contact with…nothing. Literally. I couldn't see a damn thing. Everything was pitch black and creepy sounds were coming from deep within the forest. I almost took a few steps back, deciding if I should run back to the car or not. A stick snapped, and I gasped.

"Jesus fuck, Richie. You're like a nun's pussy getting a Brazilian wax," I heard Bella say nearby, but I couldn't see her.

"Where are you?" I asked. "How can you even see where you're going?"

She laughed. "Didn't you know? I have fucking night vision." I could hear her footsteps grow distant. I followed the sound, keeping my hands out in front of me, just in case I bumped into anything. A few times, a branch collided with my face, but overall, I managed to successfully walk through the forest without dying.

When I couldn't hear her footsteps anymore, I began to freak out. "Bella?" I called frantically.

In the distance, I saw a spark ignite and a flame float in the middle of the dark. "Folloooow the flaaaame, Richie," Bella drawled in a mock-creepy voice. If I wasn't so damn petrified, I would've rolled my eyes at her ability to joke when I was nearly crapping myself.

It seemed like we'd been walking for hours, but it'd only been a few minutes. I reached her and I could see a small smirk on her half lit face, illuminated by her biohazard lighter. She continued to walk, and I followed directly behind her. With the small amount of light shining from her lighter, I couldn't see much except her, but I could barely make out that we were approaching a fairly small sized structure. We got closer and closer and it began to form into the shape of a house or perhaps a shack. It was too small to be a house. It was made of purely wood, which looked rough and worn out. There were two gaping holes in the front. One was the shape of a horizontal rectangle, indicating that at one point, there had been actual windows in place there, and the second was a vertical rectangle in the shape of a doorway, leading inside to more darkness.

Bella flicked off her lighter, ceasing my ability to see properly, and she stepped inside. I hung back in the doorway, listening as she searched around for something. I, honestly, had no clue how she could see what she was doing, but, then again, she did many things that baffled me.

She ignited her lighter again and brought it down to a thin white candle, which was held up in place by an old fashioned brass candle holder set on a wooden crate. She turned and lit another one nearby on another crate. When the shack was decently lit, I could make out the expanse of the room which could probably hold ten people. A very short table stood in the center, which was covered by a ratty, dirty red picnic cloth. Surrounding it were four small wooden crates turned upside down. A few closed cardboard boxes were sidled up against the wall, and there was, what appeared to be, a clunky boombox stacked on top that looked as if it showed up from the depths of the eighties.

Bella took the boombox off the boxes and set it down on the wooden floorboards. The sounds of glass clanking together rang throughout the shack as she searched inside the box. She pulled out a dusty brown bottle. The lettering on it was faded, but I could faintly make out part of it that said whiskey. She took out two red Solo cups, and sat on one of the crates.

"Sit," she demanded, uncorking the bottle. She poured a little whiskey in both cups.

I fully stepped into the shack, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet, and walked to the crate opposite her, where I sat down awkwardly. They weren't exactly comfortable to sit on. She slid a cup across the table to me, and I took it hesitantly.

"I didn't poison it…" she assured, grabbing her own cup, "yet…" She smiled to herself as she gulped down her liquor as if it were water.

I smiled, too, feeling a bit more at ease now. I wasn't worried that she poisoned it, I'd just never been a big alcohol drinker. I'd had wine a few times and maybe a beer once, but other than that, liquor was pretty new to me. I brought the cup up to my lips and took a small sip. The dark liquid instantly burned my throat and burned a hot trail down through my chest, warming my entire body. The taste was strong, harsh, and disgusting.

I noticed Bella pouring more whiskey into her cup, and I took the opportunity to watch her closely. I wasn't sure why she'd brought me here, and what it meant, but whatever this place was, she clearly knew it intimately. Even though it was dark, cold, and dangerous outside, she seemed comfortable and at peace in this beaten up old shack in the middle of the woods.

I took another sip and cringed as a scorching shiver ran through me. This stuff was nasty.

"God, you are such a goody two shoes," Bella remarked snidely. I glared at her and set my cup down on the table. She poured a bit more whiskey into my cup, and then placed the cork in the bottle again. "You'll get used to it."

Déjà vu struck as I recalled her saying the same thing the first time I smoked. "You say that for everything," I noted.

She merely shrugged, and downed the contents of her cup. I was surprised she could handle the taste.

"So, why'd you bring me here?" I asked.

"I thought it was pretty obvious," she stated vaguely, looking down at the picnic cloth.

I huffed. "Why do you always avoid answering questions properly?"

Her eyes flashed to mine. "You said you wanted to be buddies, right? Well, this is us being buddies." She gestured to the whiskey bottle.

"I didn't think you'd actually take what I said to heart," I said honestly. "I was just kidding about the being buddies thing."

Something carnal flashed deep within her eyes, and because it was damn spooky in here, I was actually a bit scared of her.

She stood up and glared down at me. "Why the fuck did I bring you here, then?" she questioned venomously, but it seemed more like she was asking herself. "You said you wanted to be buddies or whatever the fuck you called it, and now you don't?"

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I couldn't understand why she cared so much; then again, I couldn't understand why I was here to begin with. "No, I never said that I don't want to now," I said. I mean, I was here, inside this dingy looking pile of wood. I think it was pretty safe to say that I wanted to at least get to know her. As far as being friends…it was still hard for my mind to wrap around that.

I noticed she wasn't sitting down again, and I wondered if I offended her somehow. In order to show her I was committed to this weird peace offering, I took a generous pull of whiskey. It was actually starting not to taste as bad now. She sat back down and snatched the whiskey bottle, pouring herself more liquor.

"Where exactly did you get this whiskey?" I asked.

She shrugged and set the bottle down. "There was a bunch of old shit here when we found it."

"When you say 'we,' you mean…?"

She eyed me over her cup as she took a long pull. She set the cup down, but didn't offer a response.

"Alright, fine. Don't answer. I'll get it out of you eventually," I teased.

She stood immediately and walked over to the boxes. I could barely see her, but I thought I saw a small smile flash across her face in the darkness. She looked through the box, and then pulled out two modestly small items. She came back over and threw down on the table a withered old deck of playing cards as well as a dusty black ashtray, which read Stork Club on the front.

"Deal," she commanded. Out of nowhere, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She fired up one and took a long drag, blowing smoking between us. Her shoulders slumped in relaxation.

I took out the old style print cards and began shuffling. I'd played a lot of cards with my family over the years. I wouldn't say I was an expert, but I definitely knew how to keep up in almost any game.

"What are we playing?" I asked, showing off a bit by fanning the cards out across the table.

"You call the shots," she replied simply, paying more attention to her cigarette than me.

"Know how to play Pinochle?"

She raised an eyebrow. "No."

I gathered the cards and reshuffled, biding time. "What about black jack?"

"No." She tapped her cigarette, releasing the ash into the ashtray.

"War?"

"No."

I paused, trying to rack my brain for more card games. "Speed?"

She looked taken aback for a second. "No."

I sighed and placed the cards on the table, perfectly straight and even. "Go Fish?"

She didn't answer immediately, but after a moment, she, of course, said, "No."

Did this girl know how to play anything? "Okay, do you actually know a game? I'm fresh out of ideas."

She set her cigarette into a crevice of the ashtray, and grabbed the cards. She began reshuffling, almost better than I did. She actually did it the proper way of cutting the deck in half and pushing down on the two split decks, while I did it the poor man's way by shuffling the bottom cards over the top repeatedly. She dealt out ten cards each and placed the rest in the center of the table. She took the top card and flipped it over next to the face down pile. I was beginning to think she was lying about not knowing how to play anything.

She casually picked up her cards, holding it almost up to her face. I watched as her eyes darted back and forth while she organized her cards. I wasn't even sure what we were playing, so I just sat there, watching her. Her brow was tense, furrowed in concentration, her lips were pursed slightly. She eyed me over her cards.

"Pick up your cards," she ordered.

I picked them up and glanced briefly at my top card, which was an eight of hearts. "What are we playing?"

"Gin rummy," she said in a condescending tone, as if I should've known automatically what we were doing.

"Okay, what exactly do I do?"

She placed her cards face down, and then, before I could even protest, grabbed mine out my hand. She quickly fanned my cards out in her hand and moved them around swiftly. When she was done, she slammed them in front of me, and picked up her cards again.

I chuckled. Wow, she had no shame. "Bella, you just cheated."

"I don't remember what you had," she said, but I could see a small smile begging to break free on her lips.

"I still don't know how to play, you know."

She sighed and shut her eyes for a moment, her face relaxing. When she opened them, her sight went back to her cards. "We take turns picking up a card from either the upcard or the stockpile, and then add it to our cards. If that card follows the same suit or number of any other card, or contributes to a sequence of three or more, then keep it and throw away a spare card. If you don't want it, throw it in the discard pile. If you have at least three or four sets, you can call gin. Aces low; jokers wild," she explained quickly.

I stared at her with my mouth agape. Not just because of her detailed explanation. "You just managed to say more than one sentence without cussing."

She rolled her eyes. "Fuck you."

I grinned and we began to play. I really had no clue what I was doing, but I tried to follow her lead as much as I could. During the entire gameplay, she kept pouring me more and more whiskey. I'd drink it, just so she wouldn't get angry, but I half wondered how the bottle wasn't running out. After a couple more drinks, and a few times of losing to Bella, I deemed the bottle "the neverending whiskey." I thought I was pretty clever referencing The Neverending Story, but Bella had no clue what movie that even was, so it went unnoticed.

After my fourth drink, I was starting to get more comfortable around Bella. Before, it had been a bit tense and everything was uncertain. In turn, she loosened up, too, as much as she could. We started to slowly talk during the gameplay about nonsensical things as we tried to distract the other from playing properly.

"You know, you're not all that bad," I blurted. The whiskey was starting to affect my verbal filter, I think.

"Yeah?" she questioned, picking up a card from the stockpile. "You're not all that good."

I thought about this for a moment. Maybe I wasn't that good like everyone assumed I was, after all. There had been some things I'd done the last few days that people would never believe I did, including sitting in a dark forest with Bella Swan. "Maybe we're like yin and yang," I offered.

She furrowed her brow. "First of all, there is no we, second of all…who the fuck is yin and yang?"

I frowned inwardly at her mention of us not being a we. Though, I wasn't sure why. "You know, that little circle that's split in half. One side is white, the other is dark, and on each side is a little bit of the other color."

Bella grabbed another card from the pile nonchalantly and placed it in her deck. "Why is it like that?" she asked.

I laughed at her. "Bella, you cheat."

"What?" she asked innocently.

"Don't think I didn't see that," I scolded with a smile.

"I didn't do nothing!" she exclaimed. I eyed her pointedly, and she huffed. "Oh, alright." She threw the extra card she had sneakily taken on the upcard pile. "You owe me a fucking card."

I snorted and shook my head. "Anyway, the symbol represents day and night. There's a little bit of each other in both because they can't exist without the other."

She threw a card down. "No, that's not us. I can very well exist without you fucking around in my life," she said.

I pursed my lips and grabbed a card from the stockpile. "That's not the point, though. Night and day may think they can exist without the other, but they can't."

"I'm pretty sure I know if I can exist without your pansy ass, thank you. But I'm not sure you can exist without me," she remarked with a playful smirk.

I threw down a card I didn't want, and took a pull of my whiskey, which was all ready causing me to become lightheaded. "No, I can exist without you," I said seriously.

She suddenly threw her cards face down and stretched her arms in front of her. "Okay, I'm done playing this shit." She grabbed her cup and guzzled down the rest of her whiskey. Her eyes were becoming unfocused, and I could tell she was steadily growing drunk. I wondered if I looked the same. I could certainly feel myself changing; almost as if I couldn't control my thoughts and physical movements as much.

She stood and corked the whiskey, then placed it back into the box. She returned and sat on the crate again. "It must be past your bedtime by now," she joked.

I looked at the time on my phone, which read 9:53 p.m. I couldn't believe we'd been out here for almost two hours, and I hadn't even noticed. "No, I don't have a curfew. I'm not even supposed to be out of my room," I blurted.

"Why not?" she questioned curiously.

I shrugged. "I got grounded. My parents don't know I'm out here."

She laughed. "You got grounded? Oh damn. Call the fucking police! There's a fucking Richie on the loose." I rolled my eyes. "And what happens when your parents find out you're not in your princess bed?"

I was pretty sure I actually growled, but I couldn't be sure with the amount of alcohol affecting my brain. "I don't have a princess bed. It's your standard king sized bed," I affirmed. "And I have my cousin, Jasper, covering for me."

She nodded. "That surfer blonde headed guy that draws weird ass pictures on his binders?"

I laughed. "Yeah, that's him."

"He's always with that midget looking chick. They suck face a lot," she remarked, casting her eyes down.

"That's Alice. They started dating recently," I explained. I glanced at her dimly lit face. She appeared sad, for some reason.

"So, why'd you get grounded?" she asked.

I darted my eyes away. I didn't want to tell her the reason I'd gotten grounded, mainly because it indirectly involved her. "Pass," I said.

"Pass?" she sputtered incredulously. "That's so fucking lame, Richie, but whatever floats your goddamn boat. Not like I give a flying fuck."

I raised an eyebrow. "Then, why'd you ask?"

"It's called making conversation. You should try it some time."

I laughed loudly at the absurdity of what she said. I'd only ever tried to talk to her while she'd blown me off or given me vague answers. "Right," was all I bothered to say.

"I'm fucking shocked Mr. Does It All would get grounded. Aren't you fucking studying to be a rocket scientist or some shit?" she questioned.

I looked at her curiously. "No, not a rocket scientist. I'm not that smart."

"Then, what?"

I scratched the back of my neck uncomfortably. "Just a doctor."

She brought her legs up to sit in a pretzel on the crate. "You don't sound so convinced on that."

"I am," I replied automatically.

"Right, whatever," she muttered, and looked at the burning candle, which was half gone now. The other candle had completely burned out sometime during the night.

I sighed and grabbed the corner of the table cloth, rubbing it between my fingers. "My dad is a doctor. He really wants me to be one, too. He has high hopes for me."

Her dark eyes connected with mine, but just as quickly, she looked away. "Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Daddy wants Richie to be a doctor, so Richie obeys like the little pussy he is."

I glared at her as anger seared through my all ready heated body. "Uh, no," I snapped. "Being a doctor is a respectable job."

She tossed her head back and laughed darkly. "Respectable my ass. It's only respectable if you enjoy it. You look as if it's a fucking death sentence." I didn't indulge her with a reply. I merely watched as the flame burned the wick of the candle. "What do you really want to do?" she questioned. "Like, if you had a choice or whatever, what would be your ultimate dream job?"

I was all ready starting to feel pretty bad with the effects of the alcohol, but this conversation was an even bigger downer. I knew what my answer would be. I'd always secretly wanted to be a director, but knew it was just an unrealistic pipe dream. It'd only ever been, and will remain to be, something out of my reach. "A director," I found myself telling her. I'd never told anyone that. Not even my own friends. As far as everyone was concerned, I'd only ever wanted to be a doctor.

She broke out into a big grin, her eyes shining as bright as the staggering flame between us. "Now that's a fucking job," she said "You should do that shit."

I shook my head. "Not that simple." My father would have a cow if I remotely attempted to be anything other than what I already planned to be.

"Everything is fucking simple, Richie."

I hated being subjected to this scrutiny. Since when did she become some wise old Asian man? How would she like it if I asked her the same questions? In fact, that wasn't a bad idea. "And what about you? What do you want to do?"

Her facial expression dropped significantly into a full on scowl. "Nothing," she replied stoically.

"What do you mean 'nothing'?" I questioned.

"I mean nothing."

"You have to want to do something," I stated.

"I don't have to want to fucking do anything," she snapped.

"That makes no sense," I noted.

She huffed. "Maybe in your world of fake tits and trust funds it doesn't, but in my world, it's not that simple."

Was she referring to the fact that she was poor? That was just silly. "In the words of Bella Swan, everything is simple," I said, throwing her words back at her with a mischievous smile.

"Uh, you forgot 'fucking,'" she remarked haughtily. "Oh, wait. I forgot. Richie Rich doesn't cuss."

"I cuss," I declared, even though I knew that I rarely did, if ever.

She laughed heartily. "I changed my mind. You're too good for your own good."

She suddenly stood and stretched her arms above her head. Her tank top rose slightly, revealing a small sliver of pale skin, illuminated by the golden candlelight. I eyed it shamelessly, not able to tear my sight away. It looked so smooth and soft, and I could see the start of her belly button. My breathing began to grow shallow and quick, while my eyes glazed over from lack of blinking. Her shirt lowered back to its original spot over the waistband of her jeans, and I slowly roamed my eyes up her body, starting from her stomach, to her chest, her neck…lips, nose, and finally, her deep brown eyes, which were staring intently into mine.

Our locked eyes broke its connection as she looked up at the top of my head, and then through the gaping hole in the wall.

"I'm bored," she announced to herself. She looked at me directly again, this time, she didn't deter her sight from mine. "You wanna get outta here?"

Without saying a word, I nodded. My mouth couldn't function, but my brain was practically screaming yes. She bent down over the table, never taking her sight off me. I memorized the glint in her eyes as she blew out the candle in one rush of air. It was the same exact glint I was sure resided within my own.


A/N:

So, we got some good Bella and Edward time in there. What do you think will happen?

On my profile are some links of pictures to go along with this chapter. This includes the shack in the forest, which will also be useful for next chapter. As well as some of the old fashioned items, including the candle holder, deck of cards, and stork ashtray—which is a nod off to my other story Hate Me cause I'm sneaky—all circa late 1920s at the end of the prohibition era. For kicks, I've also included the 80s boombox.

A few readers have been asking when we're getting a point of view from Bella. Well, we aren't. This whole story is in Edward's POV because he's conceited and only wants it to be about him. Maybe I'll post some outtakes as things unfold, but otherwise, it's all Edward, baby.

The chapters will most likely start to get longer now. This isn't certain, but as the plot advances, I want more things accomplished in one chapter, so that means the chapters will be a bit longer. I hope you don't mind. If you're reading this story, and like it, then I'm sure it's no problem.

Reviews get teasers for the next chapter.

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