We do not own Twilight; but I like them this way better.

LovelyBrutal is our Beta.

Best Coast – Our Deal: When you leave me, the bed is empty, and I feel crazy, cos' I didn't say anything. I wish you could tell me how you really feel, but you'll never tell me, cos' that's not our deal.

Chapter twelve – Dusty

"Edward, wake the fuck up."

I sit up in bed, ignoring my hangover and my mom, looking over in Bella's spot to make sure she isn't here.

She's not.

Thank fuck.

I touch baby's pillow just to make sure, and after I've convinced myself my mom didn't just intrude on me and Bliss, I take a much needed breath and allow my headache to hit me all at once. I rub my face in the palm of my hands while Mom crosses the room, picking up discarded clothes before opening my curtains.

I lie back down and hide my face from the sun beneath a pillow.

"What do you want, Ma?" The fabric smells like my girl. "You're fucking rude."

Mom pulls the pillow from off my face and throws it across the room. "It's after two, Edward. Get the hell up before I call your dad." She steps away, tossing all of my dirty clothes into my connecting bathroom. "I know you took the car out last night, and you're lucky I moved it before your dad saw it parked on the fucking lawn."

I groan into my hands. My bad.

"I went over to Petey's last night. His mom—"

Mom holds up her hand, stopping me. My head is pounding. I can't deal with another argument today.

"I don't give a shit about Petey, Edward. You're drinking and driving, and you're taking the car when you've been told not to. Do it again and the keys are mine." Mom's at my dresser, pulling out random, mismatched clothes. She throws them at my chest. I laugh, but it hurts. "Get up. You're a horrible example for your sister and Bliss."

I smile to myself, sitting up in bed. She has no fucking idea.

My mom is halfway out the door when she stops, turning around to actually look at me. I feel susceptible beneath her glare. Guilty. Highly aware of how my own mother perceives me, and conscious about what a disappointment I am.

"You know, if you get in any real trouble Chief Swan won't allow Isabella over here anymore." I can translate the threat in her tone: fuck up your own life, but not hers—not mine.

I nod, pulling the white-tee over my head. "Yeah, Ma. I got it."

She slams the door. I lie back down, trying to recollect through my headache, but last night remains muddy. I kind of, sort of recall hangin' with the boys and the Sluts … maybe we were at Pete's. I don't remember the drive home; however, I know I took the car out when I wasn't supposed to.

I remember Bliss.

She was here when I got home, asleep. I remember touching her awake. I remember how her sleepy-warm skin felt when I brushed my cheek against it. I remember the way her laugh felt, and the squeeze-clinch of her fingers as she held onto my sides while I kissed her neck. I remember what her goosebumps looked like, and the soft-feather light sound of her whisper-sighs.

I remember what her lips tasted like: powdered sugar and need.

Despite my headache, I laugh out loud.

Last night, baby was brave and rolled me over, straddling my hips. I couldn't help but laugh. I tried not to, but she broke-out first.

The crinkle, crinkle, crunch was too loud to ignore.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to eat in my bed, baby Bliss?" I pulled the wrapper out from under my back: mini powdered donuts.

Her head rocked back and her eyes closed tight—she laughed so loudly.

I remember that.

I smile through these memories, and somewhere between closed-tight-eyes and rocking hips, I fall asleep and don't wake up until my powdered-sugar princess is back with me.

"Shhh..." Bella presses her finger to my lips. "I can't stay," she whispers in the low-light coming through my bedroom window.

Her eyes are excited and her cheeks are glowing. I can hear the living room TV blasting from downstairs. My mom is on the phone in the kitchen, and my dad is probably in his office.

"Where's my sister?" I ask quietly, gripping onto Bella's sides, rolling her under me.

She bites her lip and closes her eyes. She rolls her hips and kisses under my jaw. "She's outside. Jasper dropped by."

"How long do we have?"

Bella pulls up her dress, exposing her upper thighs and lower stomach. "Not long."

I attach my mouth to her neck, sucking … kissing, gripping and grabbing. I thrust my hips into her light-pink cotton underwear. Her knees tremble and her hands shake—baby came in here on a whim; she had no idea what she was walking into.

The thrill of our secret makes this so much sweeter.

"No marks, Edward," she says faintly.

I move my lips from her neck to her chest, kissing past her collar bone. I reach up, harshly pulling down the front of her dress. I mouth the top of her bra-covered breast. I bite her. She squirms.

I smile. "Sissy-girl."

"I'm not," she says, so fucking sure of herself.

I soften my smirk, rubbing my thumb over her lace-clothed nipple. I consider pulling her bra down, and I know she knows I want to, but I don't touch her. My hips are non-moving, and my thumb doesn't brush. My lips don't kiss, and my mouth doesn't cover.

Bella's chest rises and falls tensely—timidly. She's sure, but so uncertain. She's never shown herself to anyone before … if she had, I'd know.

This is the nervousness of a little virgin baby princess.

Sometimes it's easy to forget how young she is. Bella is utterly inexperienced, and she likes to play like she knows something about sex, but she doesn't. Baby doesn't realize what I could do to her. She'd let me, too. Bella loves me enough to allow me anything. She already lets me fuck with her head—she'd let me fuck her body simply because she loves me.

If I wanted to, I could pull her little nipple into my mouth and bite until she screamed. I could move her baby-pink delicates over and slide my dick inside of her, and she wouldn't stop me. I could roll and ride and push into her until she cried, and nothing I did would shelve her trust and love.

She would think it was supposed to be that way, because it's me, and she doesn't know any better.

I leave Bella's chest covered, but the cotton-top remains pulled down. She sucks in an unsteady breath, covering her bra with her hands. After a moment, and few more shaky sighs, she uncovers her chest and moves her hands into her hair, finally lying them palm down beside her head on my pillow.

I descend slowly down her untasted skin, kissing her stomach over her dress. I kiss the inside of her thigh, appreciating how untouched and brand new every inch of her is. Victoria doesn't look or feel this way. Victoria spreads her legs like a slut. She incites like a hoe. She scratches like bitch, and fucks like a whore. She taste like cigarettes, and her skin is cold. Victoria is run-through and corrupted. Every part of Vic has been stuck. She sucks dick with experience, and screams dirty words while she fakes a come because she thinks it's what she's expected to do.

Someone taught her to be that way.

There's not a single cherished quality about Victoria. She's an easy lay, a for-sure fuck, tarnished pussy. She's cold around my dick, and empty inside despite how much I fill her. She isn't like this … like my girl—my princess girl. Bella's skin radiates pureness. Her anxious-sounds prove innocence. Every shake, shimmy, and shiver shows purity.

With my face so close to Bella's center, I reach up and squeeze her breast with my hand. The balls of her feet dig into the mattress. She slightly arches her back and bites her lip to keep noiseless.

I kiss her inner thigh. I pull the soft skin between my teeth, and suck until she's twisting. I kiss the purple spot when I feel she can't take any more.

Moving back up her body, I whisper into her ear as I touch the side of her throat with the back of my fingers. "I can't mark you here," I press my palm over her the bruise my mouth just made on her skin, "but I can here."

Bella draws in a slow breath, trapping me between her knees, slowing rolling her hips. She looks into my eyes, nodding her head. "Okay," she whispers, rubbing the inside of her thighs against the outside of mine. "Okay," she says again, softly, heavily … thickly.

After kissing her lips, I kiss the top of her bare shoulder and under her chin.

Bella and I fool around a little. Never too much. Never too far. I gotta remember she's only fourteen years old. I love my girl, and I want to be with her so fucking bad—sometimes it's all I think about. Like when I fuck Vic, it's Bella's face I see. She used to be off limits while I was with another girl, but now the image of her face is the only thing that can get me through it most of the time.

With B, it's so fucking easy to get carried away. Her body tells me she's ready, but I know she isn't. And despite how badly I want her, I want to preserve this sinlessness a little while longer. I'll play along a little bit; I'll push between her legs and kiss on her skin. Every once and a while I'll whisper something obscene into her ear just to see her reaction, but I've never made her come. I've never touched her bare center … I've never even seen her breasts.

She's never seen me either. She's felt it, but Bella's never seen my cock. I doubt she's ever even said the word out loud. In fact, a couple of weeks ago I said something about how hard she makes my dick and she almost died from embarrassment. Baby's cheeks were so fucking red I was uncomfortable for her.

But that's our deal.

Bella is two and a half years younger than me. She's a baby compared. And outside of this room, I have a whole life she doesn't know much about. The drugs, the sex, the parties. At night, Bella baby is tucked in tight, and I'm out getting my dick wet and my head fucked up. I guess I want to keep the two worlds separate for a while longer. Even if she thinks she knows.

Bella hears shit—rumors and nonsense. I knew once she was in high school it was going to be harder to lie to her, and easier for her to find out shit about me and other girls. Especially Victoria. Bella will believe almost everything I say to her, but she's wary of Vic. It's probably why B pushes this sex shit so hard. I'm sure she believes if we have sex I'll stop messing around.

"Edward … Edward ..." Her moans cut off her next set of words.

I kiss the top of her pelvic bone. I kiss her hip. "I love you," I whisper, so fucking thankful she chose me. "I love you so much."

Bella tugs on my white v-neck, pulling it over my head. My lips are back on hers; Bella's tight grip holds onto my sides.

"We can do it, if you're fast." Her tone is courageous, but the tremble in her fingers lets me know better.

What will she do if one day I just fucking do it?

Because I will. One day I won't be able to stop myself.

One day I'll literally fuck her; it won't be hypothetical anymore.

"Right now?" I whisper-ask, pushing my hard dick along her soft, too warm middle.

Her breath catches, but she leans her head back, opening up her neck for me. "Yes. Just be fast."

Just be fast. She is so clueless.

It would take me forever to fit into her tight pussy. She'll cry—she'd probably ask me to stop.

I wouldn't.

Once I'm finally inside of her, I don't know if I'll ever be able to stop.

I circle my pelvis into her, kissing and re-kissing her lips until I can't anymore. I move my hips until my stomach starts to burn … until I'm close. I can hardly breathe. My face tingles, and my movements are harsh and desperate.

It isn't until Bella cries out and arches her back … and I mean, she really arches her back … that I notice that she's close, too. Her legs are spread, parted and wide, her arms are slack at our sides, and her mouth is the slightest bit open. Baby has her eyes closed and her cheeks are cherry-bomb red.

I stop and roll over, breathing waaaaaay too quick. "Fuck. Fuck … fuck!" I groan loudly, rolling through the pain of stopping. I push down on my dick, hoping she won't notice how fucking hard I am for her.

But that isn't a problem.

Beside me Bella is fighting her own struggle. Her chest is panting up and down, her cheeks are far past blushed, and her eyes are squeezed tightly shut. "Oh my God, what was that?" she whispers breathlessly, pressing her thighs together.

Touch yourself, baby, I want to tell her. Touch yourself and come. But I don't. Instead, I pull down her dress and sit up, pulling at the ends of my hair.

"Edward..." Bella moan-pleads, looking for something to help her burn.

I almost turn around and do it.

But the knock on the door comes first, then the handle jiggles. It's locked.

"Edward, open up and look what Jazz brought for me."

Bella sits up with her hands over her mouth. Her eyes are wide and panicked. She's up on her knees, doing her best not to freak the fuck out. She makes me laugh.

"Hold on," I say toward the door.

I move Bella's hands away from her face, kissing her lips. I pick her up and carry her to the bathroom, and for shits and giggles, I put her in the shower and close the curtain. "Stay quiet, strawberry-blonde."

"Edward!" she giggles.

I shut the bathroom door and pull my shirt back on before I let Alice in. "What?" I ask, crossing the room, opening the window so I can smoke.

"Look!" she shrieks.

I light my smoke and take a drag before looking. I have no idea what she's showing me, though. "What is it?"

"Ugh, Edward, it's a Hello Kitty Chia Pet."

I laugh, flicking ash out the window. "What?"

Alice sits on my bed—the same bed I was just dry fucking her best friend on—and holds up her clay cat head. "J and I were watching TV last week and saw a Chia Pet commercial, and I was like, I want that! Then he bought me one. Nice, right? I love him."

I roll my eyes and toss the butt out the window. Ally's been with Jasper for a while. It's whatever. He's whatever. I don't think too much about it. As long as he's not fucking with her, it's good.

I step to my sis, taking the clay pot out of her hands. I look at it, decide it sucks and kick her out of my room.

"Bliss will like it," she says, closing the door behind her.

As soon as the door clicks shut, B is out of the bathroom. She sticks her tongue out at me before climbing into my lap.

"What was that?" she whispers with shimmered cheeks. Her face is flushed, light-colored. "What was happening to me? It felt … like …" Her eyes are searching mine, looking over my face for the answer. Her skin is luminous, her lips are swollen, and her eyes are hazy and hooded. "It felt like I was on fire … inside."

I don't hesitate to slip my hand up her thighs, under her dress, over the mark. "Here, baby?" I ask. "Did it tingle here?"

"Yes," she whispers, smiling slightly.

I don't answer her. I don't want her to know. I don't want her to have it yet. Not until I'm ready to give it to her. "You better go, Bliss."

Her smile grows as her bare feet press into the carpet and she stands up, straightening out her yellow cotton dress. Bella runs her fingers through her uncharacteristically knotted hair. She blows me a kiss before opening the door and looking out, and when it's safe, she leaves.

I lie back and take a deep, much needed breath. "Fuuuuck," I groan. I grip my hair at its roots, trying to calm myself down.

She hurts my fucking chest.

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After a long shower, I smoke a clip and head downstairs to grab something to eat. My feet are bare and my hair is wet. I feel good. I feel light. I think I might stay in tonight. Maybe I'll stick with my mom and watch a movie. I kind of, sort of want to be near my girl.

A quarter of the way down the stairs, I hear Alice laughing.

Halfway down the stairs, I hear Bella.

At the last step, I see Garrett and Jasper.

And just like that, my mood instantly changes.

Jasper is a quiet motherfucker. Like, eerily quiet. He speaks in sighs and nods and blinks. His eyes carry a mature depth, I guess. He loves my sister, and he's never been anything but respectful. Since my sister turned fifteen last month, my parents have been more permissive about Alice and her boyfriend. He comes over more often. They're left unsupervised … he's allowed into her room. But it's not him I care about. It's the other one.

The fucking sweater giver.

He likes my girl. I'm not stupid. He's probably in love with her, but Bella's too fucking naïve to notice.

She's sitting on the furthest end of the couch, with her feet under her, twirling a lock of her strawberry hair between her fingers, smirking. Her cheeks are still slightly flushed—she's still glowing. Bella doesn't look up when I come down, but she knows I'm here.

We always know.

It's part of the deal.

My sister is sitting at Bella's feet with her head leaned on her bent knee. The Chia pet is beside her, keeping safe. Garrett is between Bella and Jasper, but more toward B. He has a baseball cap low on his head, almost covering his eyes. He's watching Bella's fingers move through the ends of her hair … his smile matches her own.

"They stayed?" I ask. "I thought you said he just dropped by?"

Bella doesn't look up, but Garrett does. So do Alice and Jasper.

"What?" Alice asks, caught off guard. "What the fuck are you talking about, Edward? I never said anything."

I stare at Garrett, but not for too long. He clears his throat, lifting his hat off of his head before placing it back over his eyes. He has more will than Jasper does. I don't think Garrett would be as quick to stand down, where Jasper would rather avoid any kind of conflict all together. He's still quiet, but he stands taller. He pays more attention.

I hate the motherfucker.

It isn't until everyone else looks away that Bella finally looks up. She smiles, but it's slack. Her eyes follow me as I walk into the living room and sit on the recliner. I take the remote from the table and turn whatever they were watching.

"Dick," Alice mumbles under her breath.

"What's up, man?" Jasper greets me quietly.

I nod my head and watch Garrett shift uncomfortably. He sticks his hands into the pockets of his black zip-up hoodie before sitting up straight. Too straight.

"What are you kids up to tonight?" I ask, flipping through channels.

"We're not doing anything," Bella mumbles.

I look at her and smirk before tossing the remote onto the floor and getting up. "Whatever."

My mom is in the kitchen, already in her pajamas. Her light-pink silk robe sways at her knees as she pours herself a glass of wine. Her hair is twisted up, unusually messy. Her bare feet are flat on the kitchen tile, and her face is free from any kind of make-up.

She looks beautiful.

"Hey, Ma," I whisper, kissing her cheek. I lean against the counter, memorizing how beautiful she looks to me right now, so I can keep it for later … for always.

"You're finally up." She smiles, handing me what's left of the wine and leaning beside me.

I drink it right out of the bottle. "I think I might stay in tonight," I say, realizing how much taller than her I am. I put my arm around her, pulling her in front of me. I hug my mom from behind, silly-whispering stupid little shit she likes to hear in her ear.

Esme Cullen may seem hard as fucking rock outside of these doors, but she's insecure. She doesn't let that side of her show too often, but she and my dad had a really hard start. Between the fighting, the cheating, her dying dreams, and my dad's mom, I don't think she ever completely regained her self-worth. There must be some shit that's impossible to overcome. Shit she buries with a bottle of wine a couple of times a week.

She's a good actress, though.

Her and Bliss are the same in that aspect.

So she giggles and squirms while I softly assure: "I love you, I love you, I love you." and, "I'm sorry I'm such a shitty kid, Mom," and "You should tell Jasper and Garrett to leave because they suck."

Mom laughs out loud, and it's so fucking pretty. She turns in my arms before smacking me in my chest. "Be nice to your sister's boyfriend, Edward," and "Cuddle me?" she asks, taking a sip. Before heading upstairs to start our movies, she adds: "It would do you some fucking good to find a girlfriend, too, baby."

I eat some cereal at the kitchen table by myself, thinking about my princess-baby. Thinking about what it would be like if shit were standard—if we ever just said fuck it and told everyone.

It's not her pops I'm worried about. There is no fucking doubt in my mind that motherfucker would throw my ass in juvie for touching his underaged daughter … but that's what my dad is for. He'd get me out of trouble. And if her parents tried to keep Bella away from me, I'd find my way to her. Charlie and Renee Swan can't match my determination when it comes to Bliss. I'd fight until I was bloody knuckled and halfway in the grave for her. Even against them. Especially against them.

In a lot of ways they drove her to me. She's suffocating in their care, and I'm the reckless bad boy they are so afraid of. I'm her freedom from them—her uprising … her way out.

And I will. One day. I'll get her out of here … out of their constricting grip. I'll get us both the fuck out of here. I look forward to that day.

Baby-bliss is all I want. And my parents wouldn't have a problem if they knew about us. My sister would be pissed, but my mom and dad wouldn't give a shit. They'd probably help us keep it a secret from the Chief and his wife.

I'm just not ready.

I know that makes me a coward. I love her. I'm in fucking love with her. Bella is everything to me. Literally. Sometimes it's too much to think about. She fills my chest and consumes my heart-beat. She makes my hands tremble and my skin chill. She makes me restless and sleepless. Fuck, sometimes I have to get up and walk it off because I'm so fucking absorbed by the feelings I have for her I can't stay still. She lights me up. She leaves me with no choice other than to love her.

The thought of that motherfucker out there ever touching her … ever getting close to her—ends me.

But despite all of that, and instead of making this real, I choose to lie. And I never ask myself why I do this shit to her … to us. I really don't know. I do what I do. Bliss has my heart, and that will never change, but my head isn't completely with her. I want to party. I like to take care of my friends. I like the drugs and the booze. I don't give a fuck about the girls, but they're a part of it.

It's really shitty of me, and I'm a huge hypocrite, because she's mine and I won't let anyone near her, but I'm not set to let go of my other side—the side that constantly tricks her. The side that lies and plays and fucks around.

She stays in my room … she stays with me. If I lie hard enough, well enough—we'll be fine.

Because one day, one of these fucking days, I'm going to take her away from here, and it'll be different. It'll just be us.

That's our deal.

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I knock on my parents' door before I open up. Dad's at the end of their bed, still in the clothes he came home from work in. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his hair is mess, as if he's been running his hand through it. He's flipping through a file, typing shit into his laptop, watching Letterman.

"Hey, Pop," I say, walking over to the bed. My mom is asleep under the covers, tucked in tight.

"She fell asleep," Dad says, closing his computer. "I think she was waiting for you, but she didn't last long." He laughs, standing up.

I get into bed beside my sleepy mother. Dad gets in, too. He lies flat on his back, exhaling a long tired sigh. We talk for a while, about nothing … about everything. We bullshit and laugh and keep quiet when my mom shifts. When she snores, we make fun of her. I hold her hand and kiss her palm.

When the conversation stops, I think I might fall asleep between my parents, but my cell phone rings. It's in my room, so I ignore it at first, but it continues to ring. As soon as the phone call flips to voice mail, it's already ringing again.

My dad takes this as his cue to get back to work, so I get up, too. I run out of their room, past my sister's open bedroom door, and into mine. My phone is on my nightstand, lit up and vibrating.

"What, Pete?" I answer, falling back onto my bed.

"Can you come over? Dude, it's my fucking mom."

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

Twenty-minutes later, I'm dressed and heading out the front door. Alice and her friends are in her room, and I didn't say good bye as I passed, but I felt Bella's eyes on me. On the short walk to my car, I take out my phone to text her, but the front door opens first. Baby runs down the steps, meeting me in front of my Volvo.

"Where are you going? I thought you were staying in tonight." Her arms are crossed over her chest. She rubs her goosebumps away, bouncing on her toes, trying to keep warm.

"Something came up," I say, lighting a cigarette, looking past her. "You should probably go in before my sister comes out here, Bella."

"She won't."

I laugh, taking a drag. "I gotta go, princess." I kiss her forehead and get in the car.

She doesn't bother sticking around to watch me drive away.

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Fridays are always bad for Petey.

Payday.

His mom, Rachel, spends her entire check at the very same bar she works so hard to earn it from. She doesn't usually bother to come home on Friday nights, but if she does, she'll be in this condition: face down, sleeping in her own puke.

"I can't get her to wake up," Pete whispers, walking around, picking up Rachel's empty alcohol bottles."She's breathing, though," he adds, flipping on the kitchen light.

Petey spent the day with Kim, thinking his mom would be out. He came home and found her passed out on the living room floor. The house has been turned upside down, and it smells worse than it looks. He's thrown a sheet over her body, but I can still tell she isn't dressed. I hate seeing her this way. She's always been a drunk, but she hasn't always been pathetic. Rachel used to be pretty cool. She used to be a halfway decent mother.

I take off my sweater and fold it, placing it on the arm of the couch. I grab a trash bag from Peter and help him pick up bottles and garbage. We fix the furniture and step over Rachel as we walk between the kitchen and the family room. I wash the dishes while Petey cleans the bathroom. He comes out gagging, ready to kick his drunk, passed out mom before going back in.

It takes us most of the night before the house looks decent. We stand around his mom, having left her for last.

"You take her hands, and I'll take her feet," Pete mumbles, turning her onto her back. The sheet falls away and we both see everything.

It makes me so fucking sad, and when Petey starts to cry, it breaks my fucking heart.

I try to fix the sheet, but once we have her lifted, it's no use. She's heavy, and we struggle to carry her down the hall. Pete drops one of her legs. He gets mad and punches the wall before spitting words his mom will never hear. He tells me to leave her, but I don't. I hook my arms under hers and drag. Pete finally gives in and lifts her legs again.

Rachel's room smells like cigarettes and old stale food. We don't turn on the light after we're in, and I trip over some dirty clothes. I catch my footing and walk backward around the bed. Pete and I drop his mom on her mattress, cover her up, and leave. I go outside and smoke while he tries to clean the puke his mom was just sleeping in. When I hear him dry heaving, I go back inside and help him out.

It's fucked up, but Petey, Ben, and I have spent plenty of nights doing this same shit with Rachel. It goes without saying that we take it to the grave.

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I don't remember much of Saturday night. After the house was clean, Pete and I took turns showering before we called Ben and the Sluts over. Dimitri showed up, and we all got high. By the time I got home on Sunday, Bella was already gone. When I tried to get a hold of her, she didn't answer any of my phone calls or return any of my text messages.

It made for a shitty night and an even worse morning.

Alice has been keeping her distance from me. She rides in the back seat on the way to school and doesn't say a word the entire drive. She knows I'm upset, but she can't even begin to understand why. She made the mistake of asking me when I woke up this morning. I snapped and didn't bother apologizing. I can't be bothered with anything else when I'm like this: crazy, worried, frustrated with her—with Bella.

I deserve Bella's anger. I probably know why she's ignoring me, but I don't accept it.

I fuck up. She gets it. That's our fucking deal.

I park the car in the student parking lot; Alice gets out right away, slamming the car door before heading straight to class. I'll make it up to her later, but right now, my head is in one place, looking for one person. I sit against the trunk of the Volvo, waiting for her dad to pull up in his cruiser. I don't know if it's because I look like I don't want to be fucked with, or if I'm just lucky, but I'm grateful no one approaches me. I'm not in a social kind of mood.

I stick my hands in my pockets; I take them out. I take my sweater off; I put it back on. I'm twitchy as fuck, ready to flip when Charlie finally arrives with Bella in tow.

I wait for her to get out of the car before grabbing my backpack and following her into school. I keep back, acting as if I'm walking to my own class. If Bella knows I'm behind her, she doesn't let on. She walks easily; her steps are light and not rushed. Her red ballet flats make a slight squeak on the school's cheap tile floor. She has her black folder held to her chest against a white tank top and red sweater. Her head is down, and her yellow-soft curls fall over her shoulder. Bella doesn't notice the way people look at her as she walks. The girls look with envy, and the boys looks with want. But when they see me, they look away.

She turns the corner, and I'm right behind her, ready to pull her to the side. I'll make something up. I'll tell her I'm sorry. She'll forgive me because she has to. She'll take this pain in my chest away, because she is the only one who can.

She's the only one who can put it there.

"What the fuck!" Victoria punches me in my chest; I'm caught off guard so my shoulder slams into a row of lockers. "You fucked Mixie? Seriously?"

I stand up straight, righting my backpack on my shoulders before looking away from Victoria and right at Bella. She sees me now. She hears me now.

Petey and Ben are running up the hall with Mixie not far behind them. Victoria's in my face. Her long black hair is up and pulled back. She's wearing a large black hoodie and blue skinny jeans. Her Docs are unlaced, and her eyes are red like she's been crying, like she actually can. She's ready for a fight. She wants me to argue about this with her in front of everyone. She wants me to make a scene. She wants to show Mixie that I'm not hers to fuck.

But that's not our deal.

With my best friends still running, the Sluts waiting, and Bella watching, I say, "So?"

She hits me again.

My friends laugh.

Bella walks away.

I'm famous for not explaining shit. Ask my parents. Ask my friends. Ask Bella. But I didn't fuck Mixie. She sucked my dick on the back porch—that was the end of that. I don't know how Bella found out, or if she even knew before I just confirmed that something happened with Mix, but I gotta fix this, because she's mad over something I did. And I need to find out who the fuck keeps filling her in.

I don't stick around to watch Mixie and Vic go at it. Aside from Kim, who is strictly Pete's, the Sluts are pass-around girls. They fuck around with me, Ben, Dimitri, or whoever the else we have around when we're together. By now, I 'd think they have that figured out. Especially Mixie; she's fucking somebody new every weekend.

.

.

.

Bella is good about avoiding me for most of the day. Our class schedules conflict, and every time I do see her, she's with my sister or another one of her friends. Mixie and Vic calm down, and by lunch everything is back to normal. Only I'm still in a shitty mood, and it only gets worse when I see Bella with Garrett.

They're in the lunch line talking. I try not to look, but it's near fucking impossible. My adrenaline is pumping and my heart beat is echoing in my ears. Alice and Bliss have been in school for a while now, and most of the guys around here know to stay away from them. Putting word out that they were my sisters wasn't hard, and for the most part, the entire school knows they're untouchable. But there are two fucking people those rules don't seem to apply to: Garrett and Jasper.

I want to break Garrett's fucking face, but I can't. I have nothing to justify it with, and Alice would kill me if I did.

But it would almost be worth it.

By the time lunch is over, I'm past livid. My friends take on a similar role as my sister did this morning, avoiding any kind of communication with me at all. Victoria tries to talk, but easily cowers when I push her hand away from my hair.

I consider leaving school on my way to class, just to get away. I feel restricted, literally drowning in this fucking ache. Not speaking to Bella for an entire school day isn't anything unusual. We rarely talk at school, and if we do, it's never alone … but she's deliberately avoiding me because of what I did, and it's more than I can handle.

As I'm about to step foot into class, deciding to stay for another hour, I see her. Bella is waiting at the end of the empty hall. Her folder is still pressed against her chest and her hair is still over her shoulders. I don't skip a beat, heading right for her.

When the bell rings, we're the only two students left out of class.

"Hey," she mumbles, avoiding eye contact.

I try to lift her chin, but she smacks my hand away.

"Do you want to get out of here?" I ask, sticking my thumbs behind my backpack straps.

Bella finally looks at me, and like Vic, her eyes are red. The difference is that I know Bella can cry … I made her, and I feel awful about it.

"Sure," Bella says, surprising me.

I try not to smile, but I can't help it. I take Bella's hand in mine and lead her out the back door. We have to round the building toward the school parking lot. Bella remains quiet, but having her with me is already relieving the hurt in my chest.

When all that is left between us and the car is the parking lot, I tell Bella to run. She giggles, taking away a little more of the ache. I know we're not in danger of getting caught. I've ditched school enough times to know the dumb motherfuckers in charge of this place aren't really paying attention to who is coming and who is going, but the thrill of our little escape is exciting Bella, so I play along. Our backpacks bounce on our backs, and her laugh gets louder the closer to the Volvo we get.

"Hurry, princess-brat," I say, pulling her a little faster.

"I can't run in these shoes!" She giggle-pants.

When we get to the car, I pretend to have trouble with the keys. Bella bounces up and down, trying to help me. When I finally get the car door open, she jumps in and climbs to the passenger side seat where she sinks down and hides.

It's so fucking cute.

I don't become legitimately cautious until we pull out of the school driveway. Now we're on Chief Swan's streets, and if he catches me with his daughter, we're fucked. I follow the speed limit, taking side streets until we're out of Forks and entering La Push. B sits up straight, but her giggle and smile are gone; we're back to awkward and tense. I try to hold her hand, but she pulls away. I roll down my window and light a cigarette instead of fighting about it.

I drive faster once we're in La Push. We only have a few hours before Bella needs to be back at school, where her mom will pick her up.

Bella doesn't question me when I pull into First Beach. She doesn't say a word when I get out of the car, and she doesn't ask me where we're going when I start walking; she only follows quietly.

Halfway to the bay, at the very end of the beach, I'm sick of not touching her, so I put my arm over her shoulders and pull her closer to me. Bella surprises me by holding on, circling her arms around my lower back and stomach. Her hair blows and circles in the sea-salt wind. She giggles, and I stop to help her push it down, only the second we start walking again, the wind picks it right back up.

We let it.

"Remember when we saw this place?" I ask her, sitting in the sand in front of the old dock.

Bella sits beside me, taking off her shoes to empty the sand. "Yeah. That was a long time ago."

We're quiet for a while longer, allowing the sun to soak into our skin. It makes me feel better. The air smells ocean-clean and the light rays force my blood to flow a little more fluidly. Bella lays her head on my shoulder, sighing. Her eyes are closed and her toes wiggle. I tell her I'm sorry, and she says she already knows I am.

"I didn't mean—" I try to explain.

She cuts me off. "Can we come here, like all of the time?" Bella falls back into the sandy-sand. Her red hair fans around her head. She never opens her eyes.

Baby makes a sand angel, laughing when I fall beside her. I kiss the corner of her mouth. She starts to cry.

"I am so fucking sorry, baby," I say sadly.

Bella wipes her tears away, trickling sand on her cheeks as she does. She turns her head and looks at me. "It's like Kim can't wait to tell Alice everything about you. That's sick, right? Like, why? I want to scream at her, and say, you're not hurting Alice, you're hurting me. But I can't. I can't stop you from doing it, and I can't stop her from telling me about it, and it hurts me so bad." Bella covers her mouth, muffling her little sobs.

I stay beside her, listening, afraid to say a word, afraid to touch her—deserving every tear-fall. It's at least a hour before either one of us move: her hands are folded on her stomach, I cover them both with one of mine.

I think Bella's cried herself to sleep when I lift my head and search her face, but she finally opens her eyes and smiles so fucking sweetly my heartbreak breaks all over again.

"I love you," I whisper against her lips.

"I love you," she moans against mine.

I hitch her leg over my waist, open-mouth kissing her neck skin. I want to push myself against her, but I don't. I ache for her so fucking badly I can't trust myself to move. I'm kiss, kiss, kissing and love, love, loving. Hope, hope, hoping she won't ask.

But she always does.

"Please, Edward," she begs desperately. Bella tries to move her hands between our bodies to unbutton my jeans.

I groan against her lips, stopping her hand. "Don't ask me that now," I say between tight teeth. My entire body shivers, fighting against what is right. If she asks me one more time, I'll do it. I'll fuck her on a beach just to feel the connectedness we starve for so fucking badly.

To be inside of her...

Bella circles her hips and pulls on my shirt. She's mad underneath me, digging for it … struggling to get it. But my dick won't make this better. It'll only make it worse.

I already can't breathe.

"Fucking you won't take it away, Bella," I whisper regretfully.

She's crying again, warring against my weak resistance. She pushes my shirt up and pierces her nails into my skin. She bites my lip until I bleed and circles her hips until she cries out.

It's when I roll over.

"Don't fucking do that," I say breathlessly, watching her squeeze her legs closed, rolling through an unsuccessful come.

Once she's recovered enough to move, Bella straddles my hips. Sand falls from her clothes and from her hair. She works with my zipper and punches me in the chest when I push her hands away.

"Why them?" she scream-cries. "Why them and not me?"

I sit up and hold her arms back by her wrists. I kiss her mouth while pushing her down on my dick. "You make my dick hard, B," I say sharply, knowing what her reaction will be.

Her stare holds, though.

I move her hips in a slow, slow circle, allowing her to feel every fucking inch of my cock. "Do you want to see it, Bella?" I ask. "Do you want to put it on your lips? In your mouth?"

She finally looks away, pulling on her wrists. "Shut up," she says, losing her fight.

"Come on, Bliss baby, let me fuck you, right here on this beach where anyone can walk by and see us. Let me show your little pussy off."

"Fuck you." Bella pulls hard, and I let go of her wrists.

"No, B, fuck you."

Our stares hold.

"Don't you get it, baby?"

"What's there to get?" she asks.

"That I love you."

"Well, you have a shitty way of showing it."

She makes me laugh with her dainty little curse words. "Maybe I do, but it doesn't make it any less true."

.

.

.

It's been a few weeks and shit has finally calmed down with Bliss. She ordinarily forgives me easily, but this time she made me earn it. I stayed home the weekend after our fight, and at two in the morning, I went out and bought her a Coke slushy and a Twinkie from the 7/11.

I kissed her when no one was looking, and I held her hand under the blankets while I watched shitty eighties movies with her and my sister. We made soda floats, which was cool, and my baby girl was happy, which was even better. She was good, I was good, we were good, and by that Sunday morning, I was forgiven.

Bella and I have ditched school twice in the last three weeks to lay in the sun at the beach. I hate to say that it's "our spot" because that sounds so fucking lame, but that's exactly what it is: our place away from everything else.

It's our deal.

After Bella told me it's Kim who has been enlightening her about my weekend unfaithfulness, I take her to the side and very nicely asked Kimmy to shut the fuck up and keep my business away from my little sister and her friend.

"Her friend" being Bliss.

Kim is a difficulty, though.

She's a Slut, but she's Petey's Slut. And to be completely real, she isn't a slut at all. Kim's caught up in Victoria's cocaine bullshit, and she's treated like the other girls are, but she's only ever been with Pete. And Pete is only ever with her, even if he won't admit it. They are the closest thing to a real couple that any of us have ever experienced. Except for me and Bliss, but Ben and Pete don't know about that.

After I tell Pete the deal with Kim and her big fucking mouth, he tells her to knock the shit off, too. The sad thing is, she was probably only ever doing it to get more attention from her man. Pete is close with Ally. Of course that shit's innocent, but love will make you think some pretty crazy shit.

I know.

Love is an insane fucking deal.

Now, after a weekend spent with my girl, and a weekend kept low key with Ben and Pete at Petey's, I'm ready to get fucked up.

We smoke a bowl and get ready to leave. My parents are letting me take the car because I've been on my best behavior, and I feel good … free. Like my head is as straight as it's been in a while. Baby doesn't really want me to leave, but she never does. Since Ben and Pete are here, she can't come into the room, but we steal-sneak kisses in the kitchen while Alice sleeps on the couch and my boys wait outside. She promises to be there when I get home. I tell her she better be.

I don't realize how fucked up I really am until I'm on the road. This guy, Jake Black, from school is having a party in La Push and we're going. The stereo in this the Volvo is shitty, but the music is on and up, anyway. Ben is lighting up in the back, and Petey is riding shot-gun, talking to his lady.

My cell phone won't stop ringing in my pocket.

"Dude, don't answer that shit. It's Queen Slut." Petey laughs, while swearing to Kim she isn't a Slut. "Only your friends are, baby," he says. Ben snorts, I laugh, and Pete rolls his eyes.

I swerve a little to the left.

"Keep straight, motherfucker, before I spill this bud all over the fucking car."

I watch Ben from the rear view mirror. I try not to swerve, but it's fucking hard. My stupid phone won't stop ringing, Pete's still trying to convince Kim she's not a Slut, and Ben is swaying back and forth in the center of the back seat, with high-shut eyes, trying to roll a joint.

It's all so fucking funny, and once I start laughing, I can't stop.

My phone won't stop, either.

"Someone tell the Mega Slut to stop calling my fucking phone!" I yell, laughing, swerving. My headlights shine on the wrong side of the road. I should probably be grateful that no one else is out driving this late.

I'm losing time. In the blink of an eye we're out of Forks and driving down the highway in La Push. My car is full of smoke. I roll down my window, coughing.

"You guys, chill out for a minute," I say, rolling down all four car windows.

Petey drops his phone. He bends down to get it and bumps his head on the dash board. All three of us are laughing. Ben passes me the joint.

I lose some more time. I'm further into La Push than I remember driving. We're on some old, bumpy ass road. The windows are still down.

Petey's talking to me, but I can't hear what he's saying. His words are jumbled, but his lips are moving. I think we passed Jake's house. I'm pretty fucking certain we're lost.

"Pass the fucking joint, bro!" Ben pops his head up from the back seat. He takes the joint from my mouth and slips it between his lips, leaning back, closing his eyes.

My phone is still ringing.

I reach in my back pocket—my car swerves to the far right. Petey reaches over and corrects it. We all laugh.

I think I answer my phone. Victoria's voice is in my ear, but like with Pete, I have no idea what the fuck she is talking about.

More time has passed. I have no fucking clue where we are, but I'm still driving. It's dark out, void of other cars or signs of life—total forest.

Ben isn't laughing anymore. He's too high. He's fucking stoned and stunned.

I keep both hands on the steering wheel, squeezing my eyes shut and shaking my head. Petey's back on the phone, smoking the rest of the joint by himself.

"I have no idea where we are." I admit, erupting in laughter.

"What?" Petey always becomes paranoid when he's smoked too much. "What, dude? What? We're lost?"

Ben snaps out of it and rolls over, laughing so hard he cries.

It's infectious.

"Dusty, dude, pull the fuck over! Pull over!" Petey is buggin' out.

He's a fucking trip.

And it's all fun and games until he actually gets the car door open and I lose control of the car, reaching over trying to shut it again.

The car spin, spin, spins. The Volvo headlights circle, circle, circle. My stomach flop, flop, flops.

All I see is trees, highway, trees, highway, trees, highway.

Ben sits in the middle seat, laughing while holding onto the roof of the car. "Fuuuuuck!" he yells.

Petey's halfway out of the open car door, his seat belt the only thing keeping him inside—keeping him alive.

I don't know how many times we spin before the car skids off of the highway and into the dirt and trees. I hear crunching, then popping, and everything goes completely dark before we finally impact.

.

.

.

When I regain consciousness, the very first thing I notice is that that car horn is continuously honking. The headlights are out, but the radio is still playing. I don't know why, but I try the volume dial and it works.

Nothing hurts, but I'm disoriented. My hand are shaking. In fact, my entire body is rocking: My bones are shivering. My blood is rolling. My nerves are quaking. Every single part of me is vibrating.

Or that's just how I feel.

With a shaking hand, I undo my seat belt and reach over for Pete. He's still hanging out of the car. His head is hung forward, and the seat belt has cut into his neck.

"Peter," I say with a voice that also trembles. I shake my head and try my fucking hardest to steady my limbs, but nothing works. "Petey!"

"Huh!" He wakes up suddenly. Panicking, he pulls on his seat belt and starts yelling.

I grab onto his arm. He looks at me and calms down. "Are you okay?" I ask.

He nods, sitting back, closing his eyes, trying to get a hold of his breathing. "What the fuck happened?" he asks himself.

Turning in my seat, I reach back for Ben. He's sitting straight up. His eyes are wide open. I grab his shoulder and shake him.

"That was …" he starts.

I turn around and fall back into my seat. "We should probably get out of the car," I mumble, opening my door.

Because Petey's door is already open, he can get out. Ben, on the other hand, has to climb out of my side.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but when they do, I have no fucking words. The entire trunk of my car is gone.

Gone.

Tossed thirty feet away.

The tree we hit cut the back half of my car off like it was fucking butter. Ben is so lucky to be alive.

The air smells like burned rubber and gas. Smoke from the engine floats into the cold air, up past the top of the trees. The boys are quiet, walking around, rubbing the back of their necks.

With both of my hands in my hair, I kick my door shut and walk away. Ben and Petey stay back. I walk for what feels like forever, and when I feel like my mind is clear enough, I find my cell phone and call the only motherfucker who can help me.

"Dad, I need your help."

.

.

.

I knew it was going to be bad, but I never thought he would hit me.

After I called my pops, he told me to stay put. Since I didn't know where "put" was, I had to walk down the highway until I found a crossroad. That's where my dad met me. I waited for him on the side of the road. He was in his pajamas. He had a baseball cap on his head, Chucks on his feet, and sleep marks on his face. He didn't say a word to me when I got in. He didn't even look at me.

I didn't have to tell him where the car was. He found it by following the tire marks on the road.

He turned the lights off. He didn't turn on the hazards. "If Chief Swan drives by, we're fucked. Fucked!" he roared before getting out and slamming the door with both hands.

The shock of the slammed door re-started the shakes from the accident.

I got out after my dad. Pete and Ben were sitting in front of the car, but were on their feet as soon as they saw him. Dad glared. They stood back.

Dad glared at the Volvo. He stared for five whole minutes before he spit on the ground and took another step forward. I noticed that he stepped on his flannel pajamas every time he walked. My dad pulled up his hat, brushing his hands through his sleep-hair before placing it back on and looking at me.

"Get the fuck in the car," he seethed. We all moved, but Dad told me to stay.

When Petey and Ben were in the car, I stuck my hands in my hoodie pockets and exhaled a long, cold breath.

My dad punched my in the chest.

I fell against the wrecked car.

I didn't have a chance to recover before my dad grabbed me by the front of my sweater, pulling me up to his face. I was coughing, trying to catch a breath.

"How could you be so fucking stupid!" he raged; spit flew from his mouth onto my face.

That was the last thing he said to me before pulling me off of the Volvo and pushing me toward his Mercedes. Now we wait for the tow truck. My dad helped the owner of the local junk yard fight off some old drug charges a couple of years ago. He owes my dad one. Keeping this accident under the radar will be considered his pay-up.

Pete and Ben haven't spoken a single word. They sit in the back seat, silent as the fucking night. I don't know if they saw my dad hit me, but this isn't their fault. It's mine. I fucked up.

My heart won't calm. All I can think about is Chief Swan rolling by and seeing what's happened. He'll keep her away from us. My bad choice would penalize my entire family.

The thought makes me fucking ill.

After the tow truck arrives, my dad helps the driver hitch the Volvo. I think about lending a hand, but decide against it when my dad makes eye contact with me through the windshield when the car is pulled off from the side of the road.

It's totaled. Any idiot can see that.

I text Bella: I love you so much, baby.

She texts back: What happened? Your mom is freaking out.

I shouldn't have assumed my dad didn't tell my mom. I'm sure she's sitting at the kitchen table now, offing the last of her wine bottle.

After the Volvo is towed away, my dad gets back into the car. He places his hands in front of the heater vents and takes his hat off, throwing it in my face.

He drops Ben and Petey off at Pete's.

The drive home is tense. My mind keeps going back to the way the headlights looked flashing between the trees and the highway. My stomach turns and my eyes water. My chest hurts, not only from the seat belt impact, but from how hard my dad hit me. I feel like shit. I feel like a horrible kid. I feel like a disappointment.

Alice and Bella are on the porch when we drive up, shivering and bundled with blankets over their shoulders. I put my handle on the door to get out, but my dad holds me back by placing his arm over my chest.

"What if one of you would have died? What would I have done if you had been killed?" His voice is low, sad.

"I don't know," I say into the dark car. I look away from Bella toward my dad's silhouette in the seat next to me.

He clears his throat. "You're going to tell your mother that this was an accident. Tell her you swerved to avoid a fucking deer. Tell her whatever you the fuck you want, Edward, but you will not tell her the truth."

"Okay."

"If Charlie Swan finds out—" he begins, looking at Bliss with regretful eyes. Looking like he might lose her, too.

"He won't," I say lowly. "She'll never tell him."

"You sure?" dad asks, already knowing she would never.

"Yeah, Bella would never tell."

That's our deal.