I own nothing.

May 4th, 2012

10:20 p.m.

It's Friday night, and I'm not even drunk. I pretty much forgot all about Jake Black's party tonight when Bella walked up to my locker this morning, kissed me, and slipped one of her cherry Starbursts into my back pocket for me to find later.

I don't know how I spent my weekends before, but I can't imagine them not being like this. I can't picture a world where this doesn't exist for me. I don't know much about bliss, but I imagine that it's something like this:

Brightside and I, alone. In my house. In my room. On my bed. Sober.

This is still crazy to me, because two months ago, if you told me I'd have a girl that I was crazy about in my bed, kissing her into a frenzy, I would have laughed in your face. But a month ago, girls were nothing but pretty voices, and I didn't see much in life outside of the dull contours of my own mind.

I lived in a shitty town, filled with shitty music and even shittier people who I had no intent on ever interacting with.

And then this girl with a magnetic smile asked if she could sit with me, and I shared my headphones with her. I made her laugh, and then I slept with her hours later. Days later, my car broke down, and she drove me around for a month, became my best friend. Yesterday she kissed me, and now here we are … again.

Brightside has one hand wrapped tightly in my hair, and the other slipped beneath my shirt. I can feel the soft pinch of her trimmed fingernails gliding against my back while I try to focus on kissing this girl crazy.

We've been here before, but this is new.

This is so new, and I couldn't place my finger on the feelings coursing through me if I tried.

This is different. It's better-different.

This time, I know her name; her full name. I know what her favorite foods are, and what makes her cry. I know enough about this girl for this to be okay.

This is right. It's better than okay.

We're two kids who're spinning out of control, and it doesn't even feel all that dizzying.

We're clawing at each other's clothes and pawing at each other's flesh. We're taking rapid breaths between kisses and I keep forgetting why it's better to be patient. Brightside's vanilla and cinnamon lips are all over me, and they're making me forget about everything else that matters.

I am drunk, though. Sort of. I've lost myself somewhere between alabaster thighs and delectable lips.

That, and Brightside won't stop saying absurd things.

Like: "I want to watch you wash your hair."

And: "You smell like sunshine, boy. Can I use your body soap sometime?"

And: "Can I lick your Adam's apple? It looks good. Just a taste."

The last one almost makes me fall on top her; I'm laughing so hard that I can't hold myself up. She makes me chuckle until my muscles are weak while she runs her fingers through my hair and shakes with her own laugh. "I'm serious, Edward. It's majestic. Girls want to kiss the fuck out of this neck."

Sometimes I think she says this shit just for the sake of hearing my laugh.

She threads her fingers through my hair and I lower my face back down to hers. I kiss her slower this time, but she doesn't want that. She tosses her legs over my hips and kisses me back just as hard. I groan and she giggles.

We're pushing hips and licking lips.

We're bumping noses and smashing teeth because we're impatient insatiable teenagers.

Brightside tells me to feel her up.

It's kind of the best thing I've ever done.

My hands slide further up her shirt and ghost beneath her bra. Her boobs feel amazing; fit perfectly in my hands. I'm thinking of a thousand things that I could do with her huge boobs that she probably wouldn't find sexy at all.

"Edward." My name is in the form of a moan, a soft sigh leaving her kissed-swollen lips. "More, please."

Over the soft sound of music playing in the background, I register the muffled sound of a car door slamming closed. I immediately remove my hands, bolt up and shuffle away from Bella.

"What is it?" she asks, oblivious to my internal crises as she sits up to adjust her bra and T-shirt.

I open my mouth to tell her, but it's too late. The front door opens, and I hear the clanking sound of a heavy set of keys landing on the coffee table.

I've never had a girl here before. I mean, not that my mom knows about, anyway. She doesn't know about Bella, and I don't know how she'll react to Bella being here because I rarely have people over, period. The only guest we ever have is Rose, who comes and goes as she pleases, and my mother has little respect for.

I don't want my mom to think of Bella as some girl I was being sneaky with in my bedroom; I want her to think of Bella as Brightside.

"It's my mom," I tell her, trying to keep my tone leveled and casual.

Bella looks horrified.

Emmett and Rose are at Jake's, and my mom was supposed to be gone for the night, at work.

"Don't freak out," I grab my backpack from the floor and toss it on the bed. "We weren't doing anything wrong. She won't be mad that you're here, just act casual."

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Bella picks a book from my bag and flips to a random page. I sit back down with her and pull out another prop; a notebook that's been sitting in my bag all year without a single note in it. Bella frowns.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"What if she doesn't like me?" she whispers, looking between the door and me.

I want to tell her that she has nothing to worry about; that my mom will love her.

But I don't know if she's sober, or if she'll like Bella, or if she'll even pretend like she does if she doesn't. I have no clue how any of this will pan out because the woman who put me on this earth is unpredictable.

She doesn't even knock before she opens the door; it just swings open before I can think about reassuring Bella. "It's sixty degrees outside, why do we have the air-condit―" She stops short upon seeing Bella on my bed.

I think maybe Mom doesn't buy our charade the moment she sees me shifting uncomfortably with a clearly unused book in my lap.

"Mom, this is Bella." I clear my throat because apparently there's a bug lodged in it. "Bella, this is my mom, Esme."

Mom switches her eyes back and forth from the girl sitting on my bed to me a few times before she settles her gaze back on Bella. Her expression is hardly readable; not unpleasant but clearly surprised.

She pushes herself away from the doorframe and walks towards Bella with steady, purposeful steps that tell me she's sober.

"You can call me Es." Mom smiles, and I exhale a breath that I didn't realize I was holding.

Bella's smile is genuine as she hops up from the bed we were just making out on and shakes her hand with the same one that was all over me moments earlier.

I mentally palm my face.

"It's nice to meet you, Es," Bella says, patting my mom's shoulder like they're old amigos. "You have an awesome home, by the way. I like all of your cuckoo clocks. And your lipstick is pretty."

Bella is nervous-ranting, but it doesn't matter. I don't think I've ever seen my mom smile so wide before.

"Thank you, Bella. The lipstick is from Wal-Mart, and the cuckoo clocks were my husband's." My mom looks to me, and her smile doesn't falter. "Studying on a Friday night?" she asks me with an amused eyebrow raised. "Keep this door open. Understand?"

I nod.

Mom backs out of the room with a smile glued to her face, and Bella sighs out a breath of relief when she's sure she's gone. "Do you think she likes me?"

I look at her like she's crazy.

"Are you kidding me?"

She bites her lip and nods. "I don't like it when people don't like me. And if your mom doesn't like me―"

"Bella, shut up. I haven't seen my mom smile like that in forever. She loves you."

She doesn't argue with me anymore after that, but she does look a little smug.

I can't help but smile, either.

Because my mom knows Bella, and I'm pretty sure that she fell in love with her at first sight. Everybody has fallen head over heels in love with this girl, and yet, she still chooses to spend her weekends with me. Me.

It's like she came into my life strictly for the purpose of reconstructing my world. She knocked my walls down, and she forced me to see why it's important to let the light in.

And maybe I'm not the same.

Maybe I'm different now.

Maybe this is living.

Maybe it's finally understanding all that you've got to lose, and it's never taking a single moment for granted, like Bella does. I haven't lived a single moment in boredom since I met her, at least until I thought I lost her.

And it's all because of that fucking smile.