Songs inspiring this chapter: Only the Good Die Young by Billy Joel.

They say there's a heaven for those who will wait
Some say it's better but I say it ain't
I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
the sinners are much more fun...

(This doesn't really have anything to do with the chapter except it reminds me of my dad, who Charlie is modeled after.)

I'm so terribly sorry about this horrible delay. Trust me, it's me not you. So for the first time in a long time, enjoy the show ladies and gents!

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Okay, just slide by inconspicuously by him. Just because no one else is in the eerily empty lobby, doesn't absolutely, positively mean that-

"Hey New York!"

-that stupid Giggles McGoodear over there will see you.

I always seem to have the best timing.

I turned my head in the direction that I had been purposely avoiding looking at to see Edward pretty darn bright eyed and bushy tailed for eight thirty on a Saturday. Okay Bella, breathe, he's just another human being. He puts his pants on the same as you: one leg at a time.

Okay, that's easy enough to believe. However, does every other human being have eyes that torment you at night (and all other times of the day) and the softest looking hair that you have ever seen… and a voice that sounds like liquid chocolate and…

Focus, Bella! This is what we've been going over for the past two weeks. Pay attention, or else you'll walk into a doorway again, like yesterday. We wouldn't want that would we? Hmm? Especially in front of Mr. Dreamy eyes and hair that I wanna pull at like there's no tomorrow.

I'm sorry, I mentally apologized to the moral side of me while that fun loving Bella rolled her eyes at my whipped ways of being subordinate to one half of my own mind.

Right! Gotta stop with the inner monologues while other people are around; they could go on forever.

I finally found the mind in me to respond. "Oh. Hey Mr. Giggles," I answered snarkily, but softened the blow a bit by making my smile more sincere.

Guy that looks like he walked out of a magazine rolled his eyes at me, but not at sardonically as I had grown accustomed to. In fact, judging from the way he scratched at the back of his head and kept rocking forward on his heels, he almost looked…nervous. How odd of Goodear. "Hardy har har."

"How's life in laughter land? I haven't heard any chuckles coming from you lately. I'm concerned, has a cold front of sadness passed over you?"

Edward rubbed at his face tiredly, a little smile fighting to gain dominance over his lips. "I will never be able to live this down, will I?"

"Oh, sure you will!" I responded brightly. "At least after graduation, you will. Then, you''ll have ten years of perfect, non-annoying, Bella's joke free years. But just wait until our high school reunion," I chuckled manically.

Edward pursed his lips in a way that I read as "Oh, joy."

Then, he seemed to be comforted again as he spoke, "Well, the same goes for you, Miss Secrets." I colored immediately. Damn it!

"I still want to know what you were thinking about last week," he chortled.

"Here, I'll make you a deal: I'll tell you at our reunion." Like hell I was, but I figured that over ten years would give his mind enough time to forget one instance that happened with the crazy girl that crashed the school mid junior year.

He raised an eyebrow. "Deal."

We shook on it, my insides buzzing like a bee when our hands touched.

"I won't forget," he vowed.

"Sure you won't…"

"I won't."

"Whatever you say."

He sighed, but seemed to grasp that, at the moment, he was going to need to be the more mature of the two of us. "So, I haven't seen you all week. Been avoiding me?" He queried with a playful waggle of his eyebrows.

Was I really that transparent? Truthfully, I didn't want to avoid from his presence in the slightest. If anything, I just wanted to learn more about him. However, after my little … revelation last week, it seemed as if being anywhere near him was just bringing the unwanted emotions forward and embarrassing me further.

He made me feel as if, by being around him, I should be ashamed of the silly little crush that I had developed for him seemingly overnight. So, I found it, that it was simply easier to breathe without the object of my girlish dreams lurking over me.

Plus, he only added onto my stress concerning my appearance. Though I was not overly vain about the way I looked, I seemed to always feel as if I was lacking. I was the type of person who would rather get more sleep (as we already know) than getting up super early to make my hair look perfectly coifed. Knowing that he could be looming over any corner, getting my bad angles…made me feel far too obsessed with the way I looked. It just wasn't who I was; to fret over the way I looked based on the opinions of someone I barely knew.

After waiting a moment too long than was expected to respond I cleared my throat. "Pshaw." I waved my hand dismissively. "You wish I cared that much."

He merely rolled his pretty, little eyes and swiped his white hand through his copper colored head. I smiled sweetly at him to soften the blow, and when he smiled back, his eyes held a twinkle in them that I had only seen last Saturday night.

Edward seemed to want to continue on with our conversation but one of the most familiar sounds in the world to me interrupted us. "Hells' Bells!"

I turned to face the thoughtful, slightly watery eyes of my dear old dad. "Dad!" I exclaimed, happier than I thought I would be at our reunion. I hugged at his side and squeezed, taking in the familiar scent of him while he kissed my forehead.

It really had been too long since I had seen him last. I smiled at him, delighted to be in his presence again.

Technically, you were expected to spend weekends somewhere else besides PLB. However, he had suggested that with the chaos that came with transferring schools, I should stay until now. I didn't realize how much I had missed him until I was finally with him. He just didn't seem an absolutely mandatory force in my everyday life, so it never occurs to me that I missed his scruffy face and worn out jeans until I saw him.

A moment after we had stepped apart, my dad, or Charlie, seemed to realize that I had not been alone. His crinkly eyes narrowed significantly at the stranger and straightened up, Chief of Police in full uniform.

"Bells, who's you're friend?"

Crap crap crap crap crap crap. What do I do? I've never had to introduce any guy that wasn't Jasper to my parents, so I had no idea what was protocol for this type of situation. Was Edward even my friend, or just a person that seemed to be around at the most inopportune moments?

Edward didn't seem to have any type of inner turmoil as he put on a shit eating grin and looked about ready to charm the pants off him. By now, it was too late to make a painless exit. The damage had already been done.

Anyway, Goodear stepped forward, offering his hand to my dad. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Chief Swan. I'm Edward."

My dad stepped forward, offering his hand in return, squeezing far too hard to have been polite and grunted in response. After they released each other's hands, my dad nearly seemed to have forgotten that I was there and folded his arms across his chest. "So, Edward," I thanked God in heaven that he didn't make an etiquette faux pas and somehow call Edward something that wasn't his name, "do you have a last name?"

Edward chuckled politely at my dad's horrible idea of interrogation. He seemed to play his cards pretty damn well in front of my dad. What had been wrong with me when we had met that he couldn't offer me half the courtesy he was giving my dad? The question made me frown.

"I'm Edward Masen, sir."

My dad's eyes seemed to widen at the mention of his surname, for some reason. He looked him back over once again, seeming to reassess his figure with the new information of his last name. What did that mean?

"Right, well, uh, Bells the car's out front when you're ready…"Charlie mumbled looking down, leaning forward, and rubbing the back of his head as he made is slipshod departure.

There you have it ladies and gentlemen! The man who brought me into this world.

I scratched my the back of my head, in much the same way that my dad just did, trying to think of some possible way to make a smooth exit.

Edward didn't seem to be ill at ease in the least, smiling in a teasing manner. "So…that went well."

What went well? Meeting the new girl's dad who could have him arrested for just standing there and claiming it was "obstruction of justice"?

And what did it mean that he thought it went well? Did he want it, whatever it was, to go well? What meaning did it have to him that he didn't look like an outright criminal to my dad? Why did he look so god damned pleased?

I finally responded with a vague hum, leaving out the fact that whatever "it" had been hadn't caused my dad to brandish his gun.

I rolled my head around, stretching my shoulders and let an unexpected yawn slip. "Well, my dad's waiting for me…" I attempted to start.

"Of course!" Edward rushed in, in what seemed to be any overly eager manner.

I started to back away." Well, bye."

He took a step in my direction. "See you later."

I took another step. "Okay."

He followed suit. "Alright."

I took another step, then jumped forward as Edward moved forward again. "Stop! Ugh! What is it with you and dragging out farewells? It's so annoying."

I hadn't been paying attention to where my movements had positioned me, so I only noticed that we were in a very similar position as last Saturday nights when I saw Edward's eyes go wide.

"Sorry." His voice had softened, tender and repentant and looking very oddly distracted. His summertime smell overcame me and I felt the most at ease than I had been all week.

It was too much.

I took a few steps away and took a much needed deep breath in before saying in a tender voice of my own, "It's fine. We'll just have to work on it later. We've got time." I smiled and gave a wave as I turned my back and walked towards the glass front doors, hoping against hope that I had the willpower not to look back.

I cheated. Just as I reached the doors, I took a peak back, not expecting to see Edward staring abstractedly in my direction, a soft smile on his face, though he wasn't looking directly at me. He seemed to realize I was still there and met my eyes, panic evident in his own. We both straightened up and wheeled ourselves in opposite directions, me out the door, and him towards the heart of the school.

Once I was in the clear, I indulged myself in a little smile of pleasure that I hoped was the only outward expression of how giddy I felt.

I didn't realize until I was in the car on the highway, halfway to the house, that my parting words might have held more meaning to them then I had intended, and that, I wasn't the only one shaken up by them.

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Another awkward moment…

I seemed to be getting a lot of those lately. My dad scratched at his worn and tired face absentmindedly as I gave him the last part of my speech how, despite my living in New York, I was not on ant drugs or in the position to be harboring any STDs. His amount of faith in me astounded me sometimes.

"Look Bells," he started tiredly, "I'm just doing the whole dad shtick where I'm asking all the appropriate questions that a father should know about his daughter, but it has nothing to do with you specifically." At my disbelieving, annoyed beyond belief look he vowed, "I swear," putting his hand over his heart.

I couldn't help but crack a smile and my old Daddio. His wry humor hadn't changed a bit from before I can even remember. Though the jokes seemed far different now that I began to understand what he would insinuate.

Though I rarely got to see him, we talked relatively often, no less than three times a week. But it wasn't really necessary since the phone calls usually consisted of 'Hey Squirt' and the never ending "how's school" topic. I mean, I love the man, but really, did any seventeen year old have any other answer than "school's school"? And it was not that we were callous towards one another, we just never had anything so crucial to say that we needed to call each other about. I think him calling me so often was his conscience's way of not letting his little girl go.

We were just naturally quiet people. We're not unkind or overly serious, but we just tended to let things come out the more natural way rather than push our ideas other people so… forcefully. Cough my mother cough Alice cough.

It was amazing to see the completely uneven distribution of genes that I had received. The only thing that I could think of off the top of my head that I got from my mother was my caffeine addiction. Charlie hated coffee.

But I had the same quiet sense of humor, the kind where we have an indulgent little smile when something amuses us and we fell like we're having our own little private joke inside our heads.

We're both ridiculously obsessive creatures. Not the way that my mother is, jumping from one activity to another weekly, if that. My dad and I found something that we loved, and then completely overuse the new object, but we never tended to tire of the thing. Not ever fully.

We both were huge saps, though we rarely liked to admit it. Though, it becomes a little bit difficult to hide that fact after a movie and your face is soaking wet from the insufferable tears. My dad was much worse than I was, believe it or not. He may look like the lean, mean, crime-fighting machine as the Sheriff of Forks should, but he was a major weeper.

Who cries after The Chronicles of Narnia? Really? Really?

We could never keep the salty liquid inside our identical brown eyes. I think they were my favorite feature about him, despite his killer smile that I was still growing into. His eyes, though seen as dull when I saw them in a reflection of myself, always carried a heavy emotion that summed up everything that made up my dad.

Possibly the best thing that I loved about being with my dad was that, since I was practically the living reincarnation of him as a girl, was the fact that I never had to try. Everything was so simple. Almost too simple. He always knew that when we watched a movie, I couldn't not have popcorn. Even when I told him repeatedly that no, I was full, five minutes later a freshly popped bowl of popcorn was sitting in front of me, no matter what.

And he knew how much I loved popcorn. Just like him. I had also inherited his salt and butter addiction too, so he knew exactly how to smother the freshly popped goodness in butter and salt without going overboard. My dad always knew. 'Cause he was my dad. And not for anything in the world, would I ever change anything about that.

Oh, and probably the most annoying part about both of us to other people (besides our stubbornness...hey I'm not stubborn…yes you are!... No I'm not!...) was our obsession with quoting movies or books, either while we watched movies or just randomly.

We were really horrible when it came to the Princess Bride. He and I had seen it far too many times for it to have been healthy that every line, scene, expression were forever engrained in our minds. We were most terrible when it came to the 'My name is Inigo Montoya…' part. We taunted each other with it.

But I almost hated to watch with him sometimes because, just before the credits are about to roll, as the Grandfather murmurs 'As you wish', the look on my dad's face had never held such a…tenderness, that it made my head spin.

I think he's thinking about me when he watches that part. How he rarely thought to express it, but it seemed the words that could sum up our relationship. Our locked up 'I love yous' never stood a chance against the words of our relationship.

I knew that I was right in believing that he thought of me when he watched that part of the movie, for every time we meet personally and have to leave, it's what he murmurs to me.

I love my dad. It's as simple as that. Which was why I could never stay mad at him. Like how I was going forgive my dad's awkwardly instigated conversation like it never happened.

'Cause he was the Fezzik to my Inigo. And it will never go… Enough of that….And that's that!...

I sighed, and after giving my dad a sweetly tainted smile, I walked up to my room at his two bedroom house. Walking into this room was like stepping into another time. The times when Gulla Gulla Island and Capture the Flag held my days in their palm like a child with a new toy. It was comforting to know that you can always come back home.

But at what cost?

Though my dad was a trooper, it was impossible not to see the love that he still harbored for my mother. I wish I got to know what type of people they were before I was born. They were both adventurous, from what I've heard, and fun loving, very laissez faire if you will. But my dad had sown his wild oats and was ready to move on while my mom was anything but ready to reach the age of growing up. I don't think she's even really hit it yet.

It hurt me to see that my mom had moved on and found someone while my dad stayed trapped, in a time bubble, unwilling to meet and try and taste and live again.

Maybe I should sign him up for …

I've spent far too much time with Alice.

And her wickedly handsome cousin.

Speaking (or thinking, really) of Goodear…

I had no idea what significance his last name held, but I bet it must have been juicy to have affected Charlie in such a way. I'll bet his family probably owned a baseball team or something. That was the only way to get to my dad's heart. With the exception of beating him at a quote face off like I usually did, of course.

It still picked at my mind, though, not knowing the very reason.

I flopped onto the lovingly worn bed, not realizing how much I missed the musky smell the house held until I was back again.

Something crackled underneath the comforter. I flipped over the pillow to find a picture that I made when I was no older than six nestled on the bed.

It depicted me, and my dad sitting by a lake with fishing rods in our hands. I realized that I hadn't gone fishing with him in years. I would have to arrange an outing when the weather was more appropriate.

On the back of the drawing read "to dabdy, lub bells". I had always had problems with my "b's" and "d's". I flipped the page over again, chuckling softly at the big grins that I had drawn on both our places.

I looked around the room again, looking for the perfect spot. There was a good chunk of a memorabilia board open so I tucked the corners underneath the straps and took a step back, admiring my artistry.

Just then, the undeniable smell of buttery popcorn reached my nose.

I grinned. It was good to be back.

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I hope the long chapter makes up for all the updates that should have happened. I'm so sorry; I don't have any good excuse (my dog ate my computer…?) Please keep reading; it's gonna get real juicy soon!

All Our Love,

The oxi and the moron