She ended up sitting across from him. There was a moment of silence, when she was just eating the apple. It wasn't an accident that an apple made it onto her plate. She knew Edward would know what she said the moment Jessica opened the doors to the cafeteria. So, Deanna had tried to keep her heart steady. She hated how sweaty her palms were, and how she kept her eyes glued to the ground, cheeks reddened. When it came time to picking food, only one thing crossed her mind: She was past the point of no return. She was going to bite into that metaphorical apple. It was only right that he knew what she was doing. And, when she took her seat, the first thing she did was pluck the apple from the tray and take a bite, her eyes on his, a silent message passing between the two of them, a conversation with only their eyes.

"How much is enough to say it?" He asked, an amused smile playing on his lips.

"Too much," Deanna said, after swallowing the bite of pizza. She had accidentally taken a bigger bite, ruining her chances at having a suave moment where she could could deliver a decent snappy "one-liner." A gulp of water later, she continued to elaborate, humoring him. "I shouldn't like you. If things got serious I'd lose it. Everything. I'd lose my chance at becoming a psychologist, of helping people. I wouldn't be able to have kids- if I wanted kids of my own. I wouldn't even be able to get the senior citizens discount that I've been looking forward to using since I aged out of a children's discount," she smiled, halfheartedly.

"I know."

"And yet you still haven't stopped me," Deanna sighed, irritated at his respect of her. Though she did like how he left it up to her, she hated that if anything were to happen, it would be her fault. "You know, it probably says something about you - leading me on, knowing that this won't end well." She tried to start on her half-heated pizza, but the topic at hand ate away at her appetite. Frustrated, she dropped it onto the plate, giving him her full attention.

"It says something about you to try to pin the blame on me," he threw back. "I'm just as hopeless as you are."

"Yeah, but you're supposed to be more mature!" Deanna argued. "You're like a century older, whereas I'm just a teenager. If anyone is taking the blame, it's you," she smiled, showing she wasn't serious. Still, she became somber when she saw he wasn't smiling. "What?"

"You can't be considering this," he whispered, a frown on his face as he tried to make sense of her. "It thought you were smarter-"

"So did I," She scoffed. "It's just a matter of what is and what should be. I should stay away from you. You should stay away from me... But here we are. You and I, I and you. That's what is. If you're going to leave, you know where the door is. I'm willing to at least try to make this work, at least until graduation. We'll both have to leave then, and I guess that's the perfect time to end this - if we even make it that far-"

"If that's what you want."

"It is," she admitted with a smile. She knew that it wasn't wise. She knew that, even if things went according to plan, that she'd still end up heartbroken. Yet, she chose to follow humanity, and focus so much on the good that the bad didn't seem to exist. And, maybe it was the way she smiled at him. Maybe it was how her eyes lit up like the stars, and her smile was as bright as the sun, but, in that moment, Edward felt as though he could do the seemingly impossible... Like take a girl like her to an event like prom.

"What's your favorite color?" He asked curiously, leaning back in his chair, watching as she regained her hunger. A pensive look came over her face as she rolled the idea over in her mind, a moment to revel in the semi-good pizza.

"Blue. Like the sky," she finished, thinking he was making small talk. When she spotted the change of a smile to a smirk, did she feel her heart sink. She could tell he was drumming up a plot, a scheme that would bring her demise and his pleasure. Perhaps it wouldn't be catastrophic, he wasn't sadistic. However, she knew that if he was anything like her, the occasional pain of others would please him. The only difference in how she felt about it was when it was her, whose pain others would enjoy. Hypocritical, she wouldn't deny it was, but she would fight against it with everything she had. "Why?"

"Are you free this weekend?" He asked patiently, ignoring her question.

"I'm free every weekend. I just choose to be a hermit and spend my time obsessing over fictional characters rather than go shopping with Jessica or to the movies with Mike," she teased, sparing a glance at the table where such people were gawking at them. Though she originally thought she would hate herself, for becoming apart of some "exclusive" relationship with someone who seemed to be superior to others, there was a sense of pride in knowing the secret. There was an understanding as to why the Cullens had to keep their distance.

"This weekend you have plans, with me," Edward clarified, not taking no for an answer this time. Deanna had to wonder what the boy had up his sleeve. When it came to starting, whatever it is they had together, he left it solely up to her. However, this time, she hadn't a choice. This meant it was minuscule of a decision, or that it was something that he knew she wouldn't want to do. Now, if she were to place money on which it was, she'd place her dollars on it being something she wouldn't enjoy. "Be ready by noon on Saturday."

"Why?"

"Because, Deanna Walsh. You'll be meeting my family."

Deanna looked across the cafeteria at to where his family should have been sitting. If she closed her eyes, she could picture them, a moving painting, each one of them looking at her. Emmett would be frowning, but not scowling. Next to him would be Rosalie, the blond haired goddess of wrath with looks that could kill. Her delicate features would be contorted into a snarl, and, even then, Deanna could gaze at the woman with nothing but awe. Across from the two would be Jasper, him and his black eyes would watch her. His look would be the one to be more difficult to decipher. His jaw would be clenched, but black eyes would stare at them, and in that black, she could see none of his thoughts or reactions to Edward's plan. And, finally, there would be Alice Cullen. Deanna wanted to hope that the little pixie of a girl would have a look of excitement, but a part of her knew better. Despite how Edward described the human friendly girl, she'd always kept a distance from Deanna.

"No."

"No?" Edward repeated, leaning back into his chair amused. "You start a relationship with a vampire, and he asks you to meet his family, and you say no?"

"I'd say hell no, but I figured that would be too rude," she countered with. She let out a faint snort, shaking her head at him. "I can handle a relationship with a vampire- considering the fact that he sparkles like some underage teenager trying to get into an after-hours club. What I don't think I can handle is being in a secluded area where my only company is a bunch of vampires that probably hate the idea of you and me," she explained, cocking up a challenging eyebrow as if to invite him to try to argue with her on the matter. "Plus, why do you want me to? Don't you think it's kind of risky for me to meet them. This isn't supposed to get serious," she sighed. As much as she wanted it to, it was a bad idea.

Edward's smile faded, his back straightening as he sat upright in his chair. He ran his hands through his hair, raking the bronze mess atop of his head. Thoughts were running through his mind, but Deanna couldn't tell exactly what. Both knew what the other wanted. They wanted what everyone wanted. And, looking at each other, it was a temptation of a lifetime and it looked so good at first glance. It was inviting, the possibility of a real connection, both emotional and thoughtful. But, on the other hand, both wanted to be human, and though Edward could never have that, she could. The only thing that stood in the way of getting what they wanted was, ironically, what they wanted.

"I... I can't help it," he said quietly. "I want you to stay, but I know you can't. Just humor me, just once," he pleaded. He didn't say anything else, and he didn't need to. One look in his eyes told her everything. She could see the battle in his eyes as clearly as if she knew she felt it. And, in that moment, she understood what it was like to understand another as if they were speaking his or her thoughts and emotions aloud. She could see why he was so intent on knowing what she thought all the time. She had to wonder how much she'd give if only to hear him like she heard herself.

"I get it," she sighed, not wanting to be telling the truth, but knowing that her words were exactly that. "I know what's right, what's good for me, which would be anything but this," she began, seeing the solemn expression on his face. Gingerly, her right hand stretched towards his face, her fingers brushing against his right cheekbone. She felt her nerves spike at the cool skin, but she rested her warm hand on the side of his face, her thumb gently running over his cheek. "This is bad for me... But I've never been one to choose what's good," she finished with a smile, letting her hand fall to her side once more. She stood up, picking up her tray and his. "You owe me, Cullen," she teased before moving to throw away her food.

When she turned on her heels, she found him already headed her way, bag in hand, ready to escort her to her next class like the gentlemen he was. They didn't touch as they walked. Their fingers never laced together romantically, and a smile graced neither of their faces, but there was a radius around the two of them. It was as if there was a barrier around the two, a circle which only they could exist. They didn't need to share physical contact, and anyone around them could see it. The two would be walking, casually as if they existed outside of time, and the moments in which their eyes would meet, there was something there. Not words, not thoughts, just something. It was that feeling that builds in ones chest, a surge of warmth, happiness, power. Those who bared witness to the magnetic pair couldn't help but speak of it, struck by the sight of something so human that it was unnatural.

The rest of the day passed, Deanna switching her focus to schooling, refusing to let her work be lead astray by a captivating being such as Edward Cullen. Her mind would wane from her subjects to him, but not for long. When the last bell tolled, signalling a finished school day, she couldn't help but be relieved. Though it was impossible to think of him at all times, she couldn't help but want to think of him more than verifying Pythagorean identities.

And when gold met green, once again, it was enough for an audience to be made of those around them, some staring in shock, others confusion, and a selected few in disapproval, and one of them was with golden eyes. Yet, as quickly as they were in sight, they were gone, disappearing in a volvo fading as it drove away from Fork High School.

Upon pulling into the gravel of the Swan residence, Deanna made no move to undo her seat belt. She simply sat still, staring at the house. Edward would have asked her why she wasn't making way to her home, in every sense of the word, but then he took in a breath and knew then that her mother was somewhere inside. "You know, it might be wise to introduce me to her," he said quietly, trying to, at the very least, get her to move.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that Deanna didn't stand still. He could tell that she was a lively person, even though she could be reserved and introverted, she often showed movement of thoughts and swirls of emotions in the bright green pools above her cheekbones. To see all that liveliness, that spark in her eyes, vanish, it destroyed him. He couldn't understand why, why all of her seemed to turn off at the thought of her mother. His eyebrows instantly furrowed, his lips hardening into a frown, and his whole body shifted to look at her more closely as if he'd be able to see her thoughts more clearly if he could see her just as clearly.

"Or Charlie," he added, knowing she was always soft towards her uncle. He couldn't stand the coldness, the hollowness in her eyes, that he'd willingly accept being in the dark about this part of her life, if only to see that light come back into them. Deanna's lashes fluttered lightly before she turned her head away from him, her hair falling over her face. For a second he thought she was going to snap at him, to begin to be the hardened girl that was trying to push him away, but then she looked over her shoulder, staring directly into him.

"The window will be unlocked. Ten o'clock."

With that, she left, swiftly leaving him to only his thoughts and questions. For someone who had lived a whole lifetime, he'd never been left with more questions and anticipation. What a strange experience for him to be the one that is speechless.

Deanna had went to her room, a straight and direct line of travel. She dove into her homework, staying busy even passed dinner. And, though it broke her heart to say no to Charlie, when he came to her door, pleading her to go downstairs and eat, she looked him dead in the eyes and declined with no visible remorse. Her mother and her were not friends. They weren't family. They were strangers with a partial DNA match, should anyone feel the need to test it, and, unsurprisingly, Deanna made sure to test it a time or two over.

When she ran out of homework, she ran a bath. And as the violin music played, the only thing she heard among the movement of water was Edward's distress. She may not be the softest person int the world, but she was still human. That part of her, the very core of her that had warmth for people, couldn't help but feel bad for him. She felt like everything she'd worked to build herself anew in Forks was falling apart, and it was by her own stubbornness that she gave confusing messages. She was just fighting herself.

As the time ticked away, Deanna found herself lying on her back, on the floor, staring at the ceiling as her thoughts became stars and she tried to navigate through them. Admitting what she was about to was something that terrified her. Deanna valued being as independent as she could, never relying on others, with the exception of two. Being vulnerable, saying something that she never said aloud before. Each breath was a shudder as the clock began to tick closer and closer to ten. The very second the clock struck ten, she felt a strand of her hair move.

She opened her eyes, craning her neck to see him, from an upside down view, but he was just as beautiful in his brooding exterior. He could see the distress that was eating her, and when he leaned close, Deanna's eyes fell closed, a weary sigh escaping her lips a few seconds before she felt his cold lips. There was a spread of coolness from her forehead from where his lips had graced her skin, and that moment, it was a milestone. It was a picture of something they'd never shared before. It was Deanna, a fragility about her that he hadn't yet seen. It was the vulnerability, the delicateness of humanity that he had forgotten was in her. And in him, the way his eyes gazed onto her pained features, was a protectiveness, a compassion of humanity that he'd also forgotten was in him. It was so precious, for a moment as such to be captured in both of their memories.

"Why?" was the only word that left his lips as he lowered himself onto the bed, minding where she was. Her arms moved to cover her eyes, not wanting to see his face as she contemplated speaking. For her, admitting such was almost too much to bare. With Katherine, she never said it. She never had to say it because Katherine shared an almost telepathic connection. But with Edward, it was the painful reminder of what it was like to be normal. It was that fight for what one wanted because the best of things could never come easy, especially when dealing with someone like her.

Her hands fell off of her eyes, the lids moving to reveal a pair of greens that seemed luminescent in the moonlight. She sat up. It was her last mechanism for feeling at ease. She hated the feeling of weakness, of inferiority. It was the very thing that she'd been fighting for her whole life: Equality. She had fought tooth and nail to get to where she was, to have as much self worth as she did at this point. She came from a middle class family, not quite poor, but also not rich enough to not struggle or worry. Her go-to shopping places were those of which ranged from two to twelve dollars for clothing items, which caused some animosity with her peers from time to time. Then there was her gender. Although women's opportunities and states have been improved, there was no denying that there was a wide enough gender gap to alarm those that got the short end of the stick: Female.

Lastly, there was her sexuality. Once again, she had to admit to the improvements in acceptance when it came to sexuality aside from heterosexuality, but there was difficulty in bisexuality. She'd wasn't overly vibrant with it, but she never denied it. She felt it was only best that it should only be answered if asked. Though, there was some ambiguity to her because of things she'd heard, such as bisexuality didn't "exist", or that it was "just a phase." She overheard her grandmother saying that people like herself were sexually greedy, polyamorous, cheaters that were scared of commitment. All of which was a lie.

But her sexuality wasn't the subject at hand. It was just a portion adding to her drive to always make sure she felt as though she was a respected equal and nothing less. That was precisely why she sat up. If she was going to bare a part of herself to him, she had to know that he couldn't see her as something he needed to shield from all that was bad. She refused to look the victim when the only person that stood in her way was herself and her inability to forgive in the present.

"I can't forgive my mother," she whispered, barely even a whisper itself. It was so light, such a breathy voice that it almost was carried away by the ever spinning fan above them.

"What did she do?" he asked gently, his hand resting gently over hers. He knew she didn't want to be coddled, but a simple gesture, a prompting to continue, was enough.

"She left me."

Edward remained silent, but his frown became more prominent, his eyes searching into hers as he was gifted with a tidal wave of excruciating memories that resurfaced from her mind, memories she tried to tune out for years.

"From the moment I left the hospital after I was born to my sixth birthday, I hadn't realized who my mother was. The woman downstairs, I don't even remember her from anything beyond seven years old. I was just left to the care of my grandmother... She was the one who taught me how to read and write. She read my stories, she taught me to make up my own. Grams wasn't just grandma. I only ever knew her as Ma. Then one day, my mom, Margot, she came home, I know she came once every one to two weekends, but my first memory of her was when she came to get me.

"I knew that if I left with her that I'd never see Grams again. I knew she was old, and, man, she was so tired. I was so stubborn too. I never let her sleep because, I guess, deep down, I knew that if she did sleep, then she'd..." Deanna's eyes swelled with tears as she her jaws clenched. He could see it in her eyes. He could see it in her voice and how difficult it was for her to even choke out the words, "... you know." She hadn't properly mourned.

"And you left with your mom?" He asked quietly.

"More like dragged out," Deanna snorted bitterly, shaking her head as if to shake the memory away. He had to wonder how she grew up in order for her to feel like all that pain could just sit inside her, buried with the intent of it staying so.

"That doesn't explain why you don't like your mom," he argued. "I would think that you would have latched onto your mother after that..." He paused for a moment, mentally going back over what she had just said, when it dawned on him. "Unless you think she never loved you to begin with..."

Deanna's lips closed, a deep breath taken in as she tried to recompose herself, but the moment she saw that he was sure of what he just said, was the moment that air fled her lungs, and her demeanor shattered.

"She didn't even keep me."

The first tear of many slipped down the side of her cheek.

"She couldn't even make it a single fucking month before she threw me into the care of strangers," she spat, everything coming out of her mouth like an overdue volcanic eruption. "She didn't know me. She didn't want to know me! She just... She just..."

Her lips began to quiver, and her face collapsed into the cover of her hands as she began sobbing, years of bottling in years of resentment, insecurity, and pain sweeping out of her like nothing before. This was when he moved to hold her. He hadn't held her upright because he knew that the moment wasn't for togetherness, wholeness, or strength. This was for a moment where she would know that it was okay to cry. So, he slipped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her towards his to cry on. At first she pushed and tried to fight it, but the second she stopped fighting was the second she latched onto him, finally leaning on him for support.

"I can't... I can't love her..."

"I know..."

After almost a half hour of tears, she spoke once more.

"It's the real reason I tried not to love you..."

"Hm?" He hummed into her ears, trying to preserve how calmed he had gotten her. Though, it was mostly out of pure tiredness, she had stopped sobbing, just leaning into him as he held her close.

"I hate you - or at least I tried to... because when I look into your eyes, or hers, I see who I once was," she whispered, lifting her head from his chest, where she found herself leaning into more. Though there was redness in her eyes and in her nose, emotion looked beautiful on her. It didn't make him want to cringe and look away from her. If anything, it made him fall even more for the same girl who was as strong as she could be vulnerable. "You made me feel like that pale, scared little girl, who smelled like the ocean with all the salty tears I shed. And I tried to hate you, because when the last time I began caring for someone who wasn't just like me, I was told that I was loved, by both my mother and father. Both of them said it, you know. One just said it earlier than the other, but both just went back to living their lives as if I never existed, while I was forced to survive behind the black gates of a school that never accepted me. I tried to hate you, because if I didn't, I know in my heart that I'd end up loving you..."

"And your mother?"

"And her... But love, loving someone is great, but the most painful thing in the world is when you lose them. And I'll never, ever, want to feel what that feels like again..."

He couldn't help but feel at a loss at her words. They weren't a lie, but they were as tragic as they were true. He himself understood them. Yet, at the same time he didn't want to believe them.

"And I realize something..."

"And that is?"

"I'm dreading graduation..."

"It doesn't have to end there."

"Doesn't it?"

"I can't believe I'm about to say this..."

"Say what?"

"That maybe the alternative won't be as bad..."

Her head turned towards him, she propped herself on her elbows, frowning as she began to understand what he was saying.

"I might just be the worst person on the planet to suggest this, but maybe it wouldn't be as bad..."

"What wouldn't?"

"To become like me."


So, I kinda got carried away with this chapter! Special thanks to all who reviewed, but EXTRA special thanks to ShigureAyameHatoriFanClub and Sephora! I loved your reviews! They practically inspired an extra long chapter! So, thank you so so so very much!

Once again, I leave you with a few questions, starting with, "Hey, are you still enjoying this?"

1) What do you think of Deanna's confession?

2) What do you think of Edward's suggestion and what that says about their relationship?

3) The Meet the Cullens will have to happen next chapter(so sorry), but in light of this chapter, how do you think that'll go?

Love you all! WE HIT THE FIFTY REVIEW MARK!

~Queen of Idjits