Dusty

by YellowBella

She loves him. He loves her crazy. She's a hopeless romantic. He's just hopeless. She's afraid to let go. He won't let her. A story about a silly girl in love with a foolish boy. Here, forever is a lie. TeamBella23 - the realist and YellowGlue - the poet

14. You and Me

We do not own Twilight. But we do own this.

Special thanks to Rihanna for falling in love in a hopeless place, Blue Valentine for breaking my heart, and Coldplay for singing about Paradise. Thanks to Kid CuDi for writing the soundtrack to his life, and Bradly James Nowell for creating timeless music before you met your end much too soon.

Yelly, this one is for you.

LovelyBrutal is our beta.

Penny and the Quarters -You and Me: When love is real, you don't have to show it. When it is real, then everyone will know it. 'Cause there will be no one but you and me, you and me (youuuu.) Nobody, baby, but you and me (hey, hey, hey.) you and me (My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my.)

Chapter 13 – Isabella Bliss

"You're going to get fat. You're going to get cellulite."

I smile, taking another bite.

"Your teeth are going to rot, and you're going to have bad skin."

I chew, chew, chew, not listening to a word she says.

"How can you eat that shit all of the time?" Alice sits up, pointing to the Twinkie box on the coffee table. "You're going to get diabetes."

I shrug, popping the last bite into my mouth.

"You're a freak, and I'm wrong. You won't get fat, or get cellulite or diabetes, or anything else, because you're a super-human who lives off trans-fat." Alice sits back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I like Twinkies, too, you know?"

I swallow the ending bite, and say, "Then eat one. There's two left."

She scoffs. "Yeah, right. I'm not like you, Bliss, I'll get varicose veins and high blood pressure if I eat one of those."

I lean my head back against the couch and laugh out loud into the air. I hold my hands over my stomach and let my head fall onto her shoulder, where I leave it as my laugh turns into a giggle. "Alice, you're super-fit; you'd never get varicose veins."

She scoffs again. "I'm fit because I board and have a lot of orgasms. Take those away and add in Twinkies, I'd be as big as this house." She lies her forehead against my temple. "You on the other hand do not board, and you do not have orgasms, and you eat like crap. The world is a sad, unfair place, Isabella Bliss."

We're quiet for a while; my head is on her shoulder, and her head lies against mine. Our feet are set on my mother's table; Alice is in worn black Vans, and I'm in pink-sparkle flats. Her knees are scraped and bruised, and mine are baby-soft and unhurt. Alice picks at her nails, and I try to make her stop. She wants to watch Bully Beat Down, and I want to watch America's Next Top Model re-runs.

I win.

Alice and I get in a debate: Which is better, skinnies or boyfriend jeans?

I win again.

We get in another debate: Which is better, dusty blonde or strawberry?

We decide that's mean and we're even, so we both win.

We get in one last debate: Which is better, to have orgasms or not to?

She wins.

"We already had this conversation, Ally." I say, reaching forward for my cherry-limeade. "I'm waiting for marriage or whatever."

Alice scoffs a third time. "You're fourteen, you're too young to make a decision that huge."

I almost spit my limeade out. "I think you have that a little bit twisted." Besides, I'm not waiting...

Ally takes my limeade and sucks in a large gulp before saying, "Just because you don't want to do the actual deed before you tie the fucking knot, doesn't mean you can't fool around, baby girl."

Oh, I know.

"And Garrett is only with Claire because you're frigid."

"Hey!" I smack her arm. "I am not."

Alice smacks me back. "Then let him kiss you."

Dad chooses now to walk in from outside to get something to drink. He takes one look at me and Alice on the couch and shakes his head, saying. "Do I even want to know?"

"No way, Chief Swan, keep walking." Alice holds her hand back and my dad gives her a five before speed walking to the kitchen.

It's Sunday and Dad has the day off. He's doing yard work in the late May noon-sun, and handyman things around the house. Mom's out shopping, and she wanted me to go, but Alice wanted to stay, so I did, too. We've been munching on sweets Alice brought over and watching TV, unmotivated and uninterested in doing anything else.

Things around the Cullen home are tense. Edward wrecked the Volvo last weekend. Alice and Esme don't know the truth; they think he crashed avoiding an animal in the road, but Carlisle knows what really happened. I know.

Edward feels guilty, and his dad is disappointed. They try to hide those feelings and keep them bottled up, and the result is … well, there's a lot more father-son disagreements. And their arguments are so cryptic, Alice and Esme don't have the slightest clue as to why they're fighting. Edward tries to avoid his dad, but he isn't exactly subtle. It was Carlisle's idea to keep what really happened a secret, but he isn't exactly tight lipped.

I try to be as supportive as I can. After Carlisle got home with Edward Saturday night, the entire family stayed up debating whether or not to take Edward to the ER. He refused, of course, but then we all stayed up because we were too wired to go back to sleep. Alice ended up falling asleep on the couch around five in the morning. Esme and Carlisle were not too far behind her. With heavy eyes, I managed to stay awake to be with Edward.

I knew he was hurt. I could tell by his face … and it wasn't only physical.

He followed me upstairs and we went into his room. I helped him take off his shirt, and I noticed the bruise from the seatbelt across his chest right away. I touched it with the palm of my hand; Edward hissed. After he took off his pants, we got into bed. I was afraid to touch him. I was afraid to say anything because, at that point, I still thought he wrecked on accident.

Then he told me.

He said they were lit … they were drunk. His phone kept ringing. Ben was rollin' up in the back. Then they were lost. Then Petey was paranoid. Then they were spin, spin, spinning.

Edward's voice was low and rough in the dark. I reached for his hand and it was shaking. He pulled me closer and closer and closer until the entire length of my body was pressed against his. Then we slept.

The next morning was bad: Edward was too sore to get out of bed, Carlisle was livid without saying why, Esme was still crying because her baby could have died, and Alice was grumpy because she didn't get enough sleep the night before.

I was numb because, yeah, he could have died.

But he's lucky.

He's lucky he didn't kill himself or anyone else.

Edward missed most of the school week. Ben and Petey didn't, though. But even they seemed subdued. I didn't see Ben messing around with any of the girls, and I noticed Petey and Kim hugging or kissing or touching more than once. They kept quiet, and it had a weird domino effect on the rest of the school. In French, all Victoria spoke about was Edward's wreck. She tried asking me about it, but I diverted her questions. She said she hadn't spoken to him at all. I might have smiled.

In Edward's absence, and Ben and Petey's weird calmness, the Sluts were not so slutty, and there were no whispers about my boy in the hallways. I didn't have to hear any rumors or see anything I didn't want to. The exciting buzz about the previous weekend wasn't there because their leader almost killed himself avoiding a deer in the road.

Yeah, that's what he told Esme it was … a deer.

I gotta admit, when Victoria told me all deer should be killed because of how many car accidents they cause each year, I almost smacked her for being so fucking stupid.

"You can't just kill deer, Victoria." I laughed.

But she was dead serious. "I'd rather have the deer dead than Edward."

Rosalie and I shared a look. Rose shrugged her shoulders, and I repeated, "You cannot kill deer because they cross the road, Victoria."

Then she said, "Oh, well, I know Edward's like a brother to you, but he's more to me, little sister."

She gave me twitchy fingers. I wanted to hit her, and I almost did, but the upside to Edward's absence was that he was in my phone all day long. Lucky for Victoria, he sent me a text just as I was choosing a place on her face to smack.

So instead of hitting Victoria with my French book, I said, "Doesn't he call you a slut all of the time?"

She rolled her eyes, and said, "It's a joke, Bella. It's meant as a term of endearment, petite soeur."

"Imbécile," Rosalie mumbled. "Je vous hais, et j'espère que vous mourez."

Victoria turned around in her seat and didn't speak to me for the rest of class. I didn't speak either, because when I checked the message Edward had sent me, I almost died. Two words and everything was changed.

Birth control.

"You know," Alice says, pulling me out of my reverie. "I can give you an orgasm if you won't let Garrett."

My eyes pop open, and I look toward the kitchen to make sure my dad isn't within hearing distance. "What?" I hiss, facing Alice.

"We're best friends, I can give you explosions if I want to." She shrugs.

"Alice, shut up." I try not to turn super-bomber-cherry-red, but I think it's too late. The stuff she comes up with sometimes.

"You shave your vagina, right?" Alice walks her index and middle finger down my thigh.

"Yes," I whisper, sinking into the couch. "I cant believe you just said..." I whisper, "vagina!"

She scoffs. "I'm not afraid of your china-muffin, and I'll touch it."

"Alice!"

She laughs loudly. "What? It's what true friends do for other true friends. I want you to feel what I feel, that's all."

Dad walks by with a glass of water at his lips. He side-glances, but hurries out the door. When he's out of hearing range, I sigh in relief. I'm almost certain my dad is afraid of teenage girls, and he leaves most of that stuff for my mom to handle, but he wouldn't be too happy to learn that Alice wants to touch my girl-parts to make me squirm.

I tried to talk to my dad about my period one time, and he all but hung up on me before I had a chance to ask him if he could stop by the store to buy me tampons on his way home from work. That's why when Edward asked me to get on birth control, I went straight to my mom.

The conversation was pretty strange:

"Mom, I need birth control."

"Oh, God, you're only fourteen!"

"It's not like that, Mom."

"Oh."

"I have really bad cramps and heard birth control pills will help."

"Cramps?"

"And pimples."

"You don't have pimples, Bliss."

"But I will."

"I'll ask your dad."

"Mom, Dad is afraid of tampons, he won't understand birth control."

"I know, but I don't keep secrets from your dad."

That's when I started to fake cry, saying, "You don't understand how it feels to be me!"

Mom gave me a funny look and promised to make me an appointment. An appointment that happened the next day.

As of Friday, I, Isabella Bliss Swan, am on birth control.

Well, as of today. Today is my first Sunday.

"Or I can buy you a vibrator," Alice suggests, once again pulling me out of my thoughts.

"You're embarrassing me, stop." I pull on her hair and kick her feet off of the coffee table.

Alice gasps, pulling my hair back. I scream, and as I'm straightening out my curls, she slips her hand under my dress, between my thighs, and grabs my precious-untouched middle.

I scream again.

"I told you I wasn't afraid of your vagina!" She laughs, leaving her hand on me.

I'm trying to get away, pulling on her wrist. I beg for mercy … I beg for her to stop before I laugh too hard and pee my undies.

She finally does. "Fine, but I'm here if you need me." Alice wiggles her eyebrows. "If you know what I mean."

"You're insane." I sigh, crossing my legs.

"And you're a prude."

A half-hour later, my mom comes home and my dad comes in. Alice and I stay on the couch while Mom makes dinner. Edward calls Alice; he'll be here in a half-hour to pick her up. My heart pitter-patters, anticipating his arrival. And when Alice isn't looking, I text him: Your sister tried to give me an orgasm. He replies: Tell her your pussy is mine.

Five minutes later, I get another text: Did she really?

I'll tell him about it later.

Edward shows up just as Mom finishes dinner. He knocks, and I want to run to answer the door, but I remain cool and stay with Alice. Dad lets him in. He's dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and a white t-shirt. He has a pair of black chucks on with no socks, and from the look of his hair and the sleep lines on his face, he stayed in bed all day.

He doesn't say hello, instead he sits between me and his sister and changes the channel. Alice punches him in the thigh, Dad laughs, I change it back, and Mom invites Edward and Alice to stay for dinner.

His eyes light up, super-stellar and excited. "What did you make?"

"Chicken Parmigiana," mom answers, wiping her hands off on a dish towel. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail and she has her glasses on, making her eyes look larger than normal.

Edward sits up. "You made it by yourself? It didn't come out of a box?"

Mom laughs. "No, Edward. It didn't come out of a box."

He's the first one at the dinner table and the last one to leave.

.

.

.

After dinner I see Edward and Alice out. Alice has to unbuckle her jeans to make more room, and Edward happily walks with a hand over his full stomach.

"Thanks for letting me come over today, Bliss," Alice says, tossing her bag in the back of her father's car. "I'll see you tomorrow at school?" I nod, and we hug. Alice places her hands on the side of my face and very lightly kisses my lips. "If you ever change your mind..." she starts, but laughs.

Alice gets in the car, and Edward kind of lingers. "See ya, babe," he says lowly.

Pushing a piece of hair behind my ear, I mouth a goodbye.

We both check out Alice; she's face deep in her cellphone, probably texting Jasper. My parents aren't spying out the windows, so I go to him. Edward hooks his elbow around the back of my neck and quickly kisses my forehead.

"I love you," he mumbles.

"I love you," I whisper.

Then they're gone.

Once I'm back inside, I say goodnight to my parents and get ready for bed. After a shower, I lie in bed, reading. Edward and I text back and forth a little, but it isn't until I get a text from Alice that my heart beats a little too quickly.

That end of the year dance, we're going.

My very first year of high school is almost over, and it went a lot quicker than I anticipated. It turns out that ditching bathroom conversations and receiving secret notes in your locker will pass time rather quickly. The whole year seems like a a blur, but I'm ready for it to be over.

I love summers.

Summertime means spending days at a time with Alice … with Edward. It means staying up late and beach sand and shimmer-blush and skirts and tank-tops and sun and skateboards and candy and slushies and bare feet and freckles and lip gloss and bikinis and long days … and Edward.

Edward.

And if I have to go to this stupid dance to get closer to summer, then I will.

Fine, but you're wearing a dress.

She replies: Only if you let Garrett finger you in the bathroom.

I give up and go to sleep.

.

.

.

School is back to normal with the return of their leader. Petey and Ben are as loud and disgustful as they usually are, the Sluts are acting all slutty, and the rest of the school is talking about whatever party went on this weekend.

I'm back to dodging the ladies room.

At lunch, Edward sits on the top of a lunch table and Victoria sits at his feet. They're talking, and they're laughing, and she's happy about whatever he said because she gets up and hugs him. He kind of, sort of hugs her back, but he kind of, sort of pushes her away.

I know I'm not supposed to look, but I can't help it sometimes. And this time Edward looks back, too. The corner of his mouth lifts into a small smirk, but his eyes are guilty. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. Then Garrett is beside me, whispering something into my ear. Edward's face hardens. Garrett touches my arm, and I look away from my secret.

Garrett's asking if I'm going to the end of the school year dance. I tell him I am. He says no one is taking dates because it's not that kind of dance, so we're all going as a group. Only he's wrong, because we can all go as a group, but Alice and Jasper are still a couple, and he's still with Claire, and I'll still be the odd girl out. Even Lauren has a boyfriend, Paul.

Instead of disagreeing with him, I say, "You're right."

When lunch is over, I say bye to my friends and head toward French. I don't see Edward in the halls, but I don't really look for him either. I stop by my locker to switch out my books. I'm noteless, and a little let down, but that's nothing new. It's almost an emotion I hardly feel anymore.

"Hey, Bella."

I turn around at my name, coming face to face with Brady Fuller. He's a senior, and I've seen him around a few times, but I don't know him. I know his reputation, though, a la Edward Cullen.

"Hi," I say, feeling a bit confused.

Brady smiles, and it's so devious I smile back. He's cute with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes. He's tall and fit … and stupid.

"Are you going to the dance this weekend?" he asks.

I nod. "I think so."

He steps a little closer. I smile a little higher.

And Brady probably thinks I'm smiling because he's showing me attention, when I'm really smiling because—

"Hey, Brady, how's it goin'?" Petey leans against the lockers at my right side, and Ben leans on my left.

Brady doesn't seem fazed until he sees Edward leaning back against the lockers right across from us. Wisely, Brady puts a little distance between us. I keep smiling.

"Just asking if Bella is going to the dance." Despite being outnumbered and a little nervous, Brady stands tall, not about to be punked by three sophomores.

"Yeah, she's going," Petey says. "She's my date."

"She's my date, too," Ben adds.

"What about you , Edward? Is Bliss your date?" Pete asks over Brady's shoulder.

"Yeah, she's my date," Edward says with his eyes locked and loaded on the back of Brady's head. His posture is slack, but his hands are fisted and his jaw is tense. He's giving off the impression of being nonchalant, but I know better. He's livid.

Brady turns around to look at him; Edward smirks, daring him to say something.

He doesn't. And after taking a look around the hall, seeing the group of people who have circled around to watch the confrontation, Brady smiles his award-winning smile, tells me he'll see me around, and leaves.

So does Edward, without another word.

"That guy is a loser, Bliss," Ben says, taking my books from me.

Petey and Ben walk me to class; Petey with his arm over my shoulders and Ben with my books. Victoria's behind us, and she tries to talk to the boys, but they ignore her and lecture me on bad, bad boys with bad, bad intents.

"Let us know if he bothers you again," Petey says, kissing my forehead. Ben hands me my books, and they take off after Edward … wherever he went.

In class, Victoria isn't too pleased the boys came to my rescue. She might be more upset that they ignored her while I got escorted to the classroom.

"You'll always be their little sister, Bella," she says. "How fucking annoying, right?" Only, she's not telling me this out of sympathy. I think she's jealous. "I would hate if they did that to me every time a boy tried to have a conversation." She rolls her eyes. "I mean, it's not like Brady Fuller would actually want to, like, date you or something."

Rosalie, who is wearing bright pink leggings, a jean skirt, and a teal tank-top, leans over the desk toward Victoria, and says, "Tout le monde vous hait. Rendre le monde heureux et sauter d'un pont, salope."

I have no idea what she said, but it sounded good, and it made Victoria shut up and turn around.

Rosalie's totally here for the easy A.

She called Vic a bitch in so many words.

After an hour of listening to Victoria sigh and groan, class is finally over. She gets up and puts on her backpack, but she doesn't leave before adding, "It's funny Edward said he was your date to the dance when he's actually going with me."

I leave the classroom contemplating how badly my grade would suffer if I ditched French for the rest of the year. I keep my head up, though. I can't show Victoria or anyone else that they affect me with their words. I smile when smiled at and say hello when greeted. Alice is on the other side of the school, so I won't see her again until later. I think about going into the restroom to hide in a stall for awhile, just to get myself together, but the last time I did that, I left worse off than I went going in.

Right as I'm about to turn the corner, I'm pulled to the side by my elbow.

Edward and I are hidden in the doorway of an empty classroom. His hand falls from my elbow to my hand, where he interlaces our fingers and holds on tight.

"Hey, princess girl," he says, smiling … truly smiling.

"Hey, yourself," I answer, fighting my own smile.

He smells so good and it feels so nice to be this close to him. My turned upside down stomach begins to settle, and my heart beats at a closer to normal rate. With a quick look around, once I know we're safely hidden, I push myself against him, burying my nose in his neck, lifting up on my tippy-toes to be more near.

"I miss you." I breathe, gripping onto his shirt with my freehand. My chest fills up with an ache … I try to push myself closer to him. I bite his throat and clench tighter onto his shirt.

"Are you okay?" He asks, holding me just as tight.

I shake my head. Edward takes a breath and opens up the classroom door, pulling me in and shutting it behind us. The room is unused and dark. The blinds are pulled down and the air smells like dust. There are a few stacked desks in the center of the room, and a teachers desk at the front. The chalkboard is clean and the walls are bare.

Edward's hands are on my hips, carefully guiding me backward. He kisses the side of my neck, along my jaw, and at the corner of my mouth. Like I weigh nothing at all, he lifts me into the air and places me on the wooden desk. It's cold against the back of my thighs, but the rest of my body is feverishly hot.

He opens my legs with his hands, placing himself between them. I hold onto his shoulders as he leans me back, kissing my throat. I hitch my leg around his waist … he lets me. His left hand travels from my hip, up my shirt, and over my purple lace bra. His hips thrust forcefully, spinning the room.

When I'm too loud, he tells me to be quiet. The desk rocks beneath us, splintering and coming apart from lack of use.

His hips move at a steady pace, and slowly, my body begins to tingle; first at my lips, then at my fingers and toes.

He kisses my mouth, sloppy, fast, dirty. Edward bites my lips until I whimper, then he moves down to my chest. He's lifted my shirt so my bra is showing. My hands have fallen down to his hips, where I hold on, trying to guide his movements, because I can feel it. I can. I'm so close to something.

I open my legs wider, trying to get him closer. "Please," I whisper.

We're caught up. The both of us are. The entire classroom turns around us, my head is swimming and my body is awake and roaring. I figure out that I can get more of a tingle if I move my hips with his, so for every stroke, I meet him there. I close my eyes, feeling him between my legs and on my chest. Somewhere in the back of my mind I recognize the sound of the bell ringing; I'm late for class, but I don't care.

I'm almost completely consumed, ready to fall. My stomach is twist, twist, twisted, ready to release and twirl. He's so hard … I can feel it. I can feel all of him, and I want it so fucking badly.

"Please, please, please," I say, circling my myself against him.

"Right now?" Edward asks with heavy eyes and heavier movement. He bites my chest, and I scream out. "Do you have any fucking idea how badly I want to be inside of you?" he asks, right before pulling my bra down and placing his mouth over my bare breast.

It starts—whatever this is. It starts and my entire body tenses. My eyes roll into the back of my head and air catches in my throat. I hold onto Edward's sides and moan into his chest.

It's anticipation for the real deal … starting to detonate. This is what Alice must be talking about. This explosion. It's so close I can taste it. Literally. It's like having Pop Rocks in my blood and effervescence on my skin. Orgasms taste like lemon-mint and tea tree. They sizzle and sparkle and blow up and boil and hold-clench-grip and twist-turn-spin and shake-shook-shiver.

At least that's what it will be like … I can feel it.

But then he stops. But then I'm alone. I'm gasping for air, squeezing my legs together, crying out from the pain of its absence.

"Fuck!" Edward barks, pushing down on the front of his jeans, holding one hand on the wall for support.

My body is intense with objection. My stomach hurts and my eyes water. I feel like screaming. I feel like punching something. And where he was, between my legs, painfully calms, painfully settles, painfully composes.

After giving himself a few seconds to recover, he comes back to me and closes my legs. He kisses the top of my knee and pull down my dress. "I'm sorry, baby. I swear I didn't find you for this shit."

I stare up at the ceiling, trying to clear my head. I don't even realize my bra is still pulled down until Edward pushes it back in place. He corrects my shirt and sits me up. I allow a few tears to fall but don't say anything. He clears them away with his thumbs, wiping my cries on his jeans.

"Tell me," he says lowly.

"I know you were with Bree, and I know you're with Victoria, and I know you've been with Mixie and Charlotte," I say it without crying harder than I already am. That small victory makes me feel a little bit better. "And Victoria told me you're going to the dance with her. She said, 'It's funny he said he's going with you when he's really going with me.'" I stop for a second. "Rosalie told me she called her a bitch in French."

He laughs. So do I.

"I don't want to be with you anymore," I say.

He laughs again.

"I'm serious. I hate you," I insist.

"Bliss." He sighs.

"You're with those girls, but you won't be with me. I hate you, and I don't want to be with you anymore."

He looks at me. His cheeks are red and his eyes are full of emotion. He sits back on the desk beside me with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I want to go to the dance with Brady Fuller."

Edward's head leans back and he laughs out loud, showing all of his teeth.

"I swear," I say.

"Shut the fuck up, Bliss. It's a rule." He's trying to sound playful, but the undertone is more than obvious.

I jump off of the desk, grateful that my feet are strong and steady. I feel oddly calm and collected, like this may be the most intelligent decision I have ever made. I dust off my dress and straighten out my hair. I look for my bag, and when I find it, Edward kicks it across the room.

"Why did you do that?" I ask, kicking his.

He laughs at me again, so I hit him in the arm. "I'm serious, Edward!"

"Say you promise." He stands up and holds me in place by my arm. He pulls me closer. I try to back away, but he doesn't let me. "Say you promise and I'll think about believing you."

"We don't promise," I remind him.

"Exactly."

I hold strong and stand high. He catches my eyes, leaving us in some kind of staring contest. I don't think either one of us takes a breath. We don't move. We just stare. His hold on my forearm is binding, again reminding me that this coltish posture isn't really how he feels about what I said. There's a message in this firm lock: I'm not going anywhere.

I can say what I want, and try to do what I want, but he has the last word.

He's the first to speak: "I wasn't with Bree, and I've never been with Mixie or Charlotte." Edward releases my arm and sticks his hands in his pockets. "I wouldn't lie to you."

He doesn't lie to me, not about anything else other than this. And this is what is most important, right? Relationships are supposed to be built from trust. But that's a joke. Everything about us is a lie. We're built solely from love, but we're a walking untruth. And as long as we have that, then we should be okay. But what kind of person does that make me if I just accept this answer? Because he is lying. I'm not ignorant. He is so absolutely honest with me about everything else, but this...

"I know," I say.

"People just say shit about me," he lies a little more.

I nod. "I know."

"But that doesn't mean it's true."

"Okay."

"Do you still hate me?" He's pulling me along now. He knows I don't hate him. Edward smirks, and I want to smack him.

"I don't hate you," I say, "but you're no good for me."

He half-scoffs. "Well, it's too late for all of that shit."

I walk across the classroom in search of my backpack. Edward follows me. I keep my head up and my shoulders square. I look over my shoulder, happy that he doesn't seem as confident as I project. And he shouldn't. He should feel bad for being a liar. If he didn't feel bad, then I'd really have something to worry about.

As if I don't have enough.

My book bag is stuck-lodged in the far back corner, covered in dust. I pick it up and groan, pissed that my white bag is smudged and unclean. I'm wiping off dust bunnies when Edward rips it from my hands and beats the dust off with more effort than I was giving.

"Listen to me, Bella," he says without looking at me. "I'm not going to that fucking dance with Victoria. She asked if I was going. I said sure. That's all."

I try to take my backpack from him, but once I have my hand around the strap, he pulls it back. I pull. He pulls. Like a game.

"Princess girl," he says softly. "You can't be upset with me because Victoria's a cunt."

My eyes open wide, and Edward laughs loudly, filling the vacant room with his beautiful sound. Heartbreaking, but beautiful. Bastard.

Edward and I spend the rest of the hour lying side-by-side on the teacher's desk.

.

.

.

The rest of the week flies by in a blur. Not only is the school conscious about the approaching summer, but this stupid dance, which isn't supposed to be a big deal, is turning out to be a huge deal. There are posters all over the walls and a whispering buzz in the hallways about who is going with who. Alice, Jasper, and Garrett insist that the four of us are going as a group, but I'm not convinced. Especially since Claire makes this four a five.

Victoria hasn't said another word about Edward or the dance to me. Well, until today. The bell rang when French was over, and she said, "See you at the fiesta tomorrow, little sister."

Rosalie replied, "That's Spanish, you idiot."

By "fiesta" I'm assuming she means the dance. Then again, who knows.

After our fight on Monday, I've seen a lot of Edward this week. He's been surprisingly clingy, and while it's been nice in a much-needed-suffocating kind of way, it's killing me. It's killing me because it's temporary. After Edward thinks he's redeemed himself, and when his guilt about lying to me subsides, things will go back to normal.

But this week, while he still feels blameworthy, I've received twice the normal amount of letters in my locker, he's been good about finding places where we can hide, and we left after lunch on Wednesday in Ben's new BMW and went to our spot at the beach. I haven't seen him with Victoria, the Sluts, or anyone else, and I know he hasn't been going because we spend our night times on the phone talking about nothing at all.

It's been good. Too good.

"Hello, earth to Isabella Bliss." Alice is snapping her fingers in my face. I come to and smile. Alice smiles in return. "Are you daydreaming about cocks? I look like that when I daydream about them, too."

I roll my eyes and sit back, allowing the sun to warm my face. We're out front, it's after school and we're waiting for Esme to get here to pick us up. The stupid dance is tomorrow, and while Mom wanted me to get ready at home, I convinced her to allow me to stay with Alice. She'll be over sometime tomorrow night to see me off. It's my very first school dance. Alice and I decided to ditch the homecoming and winter formal this year, so my mom is excited enough for the both of us.

"Seriously, B, what's going on?" She sits next to me. Alice is wearing cut-off, holey jeans shorts and a green tank top. Her hair is down and naturally wavy, and her bangs are covering her right eye. Her high-top vans are unlaced and her knees are scraped and bruised.

She still smells like chocolate chip cookies and playtime. Only, she looks different. Not older … but since losing her virginity to Jasper, Alice is different. There's experience in her eyes and change in her expression. She isn't "little" anymore. She knows things. She's felt things. Alice has lived something I haven't, and for us, it's a first.

And I thought I wanted it, but I'm not so sure anymore.

I want it to be honest like it is with Alice and Jasper, and the more I think about it, having sex with Edward would be tainted.

It would be.

And it's killing me.

"Nothing," I say, pushing my legs out in front of me, loving the red-blotched burn I'm getting from the sunshine.

"You're lying, and Brady Fuller is looking at you again. What the fuck is that guy's deal?" Alice stands up, dropping her board on the ground.

She isn't supposed to bring her board to school. She, Jasper, and Garrett have all been warned about the "no skateboards on school grounds" rule, but they don't listen.

Using her foot, she flips her board onto its wheels and rolls in front of me. "Perv!" she yells out toward Brady. He looks up and waves. Dork.

"Dude, I totally saw him and Victoria sucking face on Tuesday," Alice says, rolling by. "I told Edward, but he didn't care."

I smile, re-closing my eyes, aiming my face toward the sun. Not only have I seen a lot of Edward this week, I've also seen a a lot of Brady Fuller. And Alice is right, Victoria was kissing him. I don't know if she did it because he spoke to me, or if she really likes him, but either way it's weird. He's too perfect in a generic kind of way, and Victoria is too wrecked in the leader of the Sluts kind of way. He's too clean cut and preppy, and she's too raw and smells like cigarettes.

But she's some sort of perfect, and I imagine that her kind of perfection is hard to resist.

Even though Brady has been kissing a Victoria all week, he still finds time to follow me around school. He's everywhere I turn, and it's kind of strange. Petey and Ben scared him off again, but he's persistent.

Yesterday I was reading another note left in my locker; I was red-blushing because Edward's mouth can get the best of me sometimes, and the notes he's been leaving me are a little bit dirty.

This note in particular: The other day, on that desk, when I was between your legs, you made my cock so fucking—

I was reading, too caught up to look around, but I was facing my open locker with the notebook paper in my hands, and after fucking, there was nothing because the letter had been taken. I spun around, thinking for sure it was Ben or Petey, or maybe even Edward, but it wasn't. It was Brady. He held the letter above my head. I didn't even try to reach for it. My heart was racing, but I was mad. More than mad, I was nervous he might read it.

"Go to the dance with me," he said.

I looked up at the paper, then back at Brady. "Can I have that back?"

"If you go to the dance with me."

I crossed my arms over my white top and smiled. "I'm going with Petey, Ben, and Edward, remember?"

His smile matched my own. "What's up with those guys, anyway?" Brady handed me the note back; I shoved it into my backpack and walked away.

Hard.

After fucking, it said hard.

When Esme shows up, Alice gets in the front and I get in the back. Esme asks where Edward is. Alice says she doesn't know, and I shrug, because neither do I.

.

.

.

"Ready to get your dance on, baby girl?" Alice is standing above me, jumping on the bed. I smile, but hide myself under her comforter. "Oh, come on you sad, angst-filled teenager, lighten up. Wanna take a shot?"

I pull the blankets down below my eyes and nod.

Turns out I slept all day. I slept all night, too—after I turned off my cell phone, anyway. Edward never came home after school yesterday, but I know where he was. Or I think I do. He said he went home with Pete, and Rachel was on another one of her Friday night benders. I don't doubt the truth in that … but when he called and I heard Victoria in the background, I decided I was done for the night, turned off my phone, took a Tylenol PM, and crashed out.

It's now three in the afternoon.

Downstairs, Alice pulls the tequila from her father's liquor cabinet, and I take a lime out of the fridge before slicing it into fours. She's pouring us a double when her mom saunters into the kitchen. Esme is the epitome of stunning in a red dress and black platform heels. She's high-class and knows it.

"What are you girls doing?" She laughs, pointing to the liquor.

"Bella's in a funk, Mom," Alice says, clearly annoyed that her own mother hasn't noticed my obvious "funk."

"Well, in that case, carry on." Esme smiles, winking. "But don't go overboard." Then she's gone.

Alice and I take three shots. I hardly even wince. I'm getting better at this stuff.

After eating two Twinkies and a peanut better and jelly, I convince Alice that I am not in a funk, and that we should just start getting ready for the dance. She believes me, and the tequila did help, so when she's in the shower, I turn the power back on my cell phone.

And it's a good thing I'm buzzed, because Edward was not happy last night.

Text after text, voice mail after voice mail; my guy was evidently drunk and out of his mind. One message he's cursing at me, swearing he's coming home to kick down Alice's bedroom door, and the next he's sorry and he loves me, and please just answer, baby.

After making sure Alice is still in the shower, I lie on her bed and call him back. He picks up after the first ring.

"I said I was sorry," he mumbles.

I twirl a piece of hair between my fingers. "That's how you answer the phone?"

"You tortured me last night, little girl."

We're silent.

"Did you get my voice mails?" He asks, shuffling like he's getting out of bed.

"Yes."

"Ignore the bad ones, but pay extra attention to the ones where I say I love you and I need you and I want you and please stop breaking my heart." His voice is light and humorous. I can hear him peeing over the phone. "I'm holding my dick, Bliss. Should I stroke it?"

I laugh loudly and it feels so good. "Edward!"

We're silent again, but this time it's different. Unstressed.

"I'm sorry, okay, baby girl?" His tone is low and sympathetic. Finally.

"Okay."

"I love you. I'll see you in about an hour."

After I hang up, and after Alice gets out of the shower, I get in and wash away all of my bad feelings. I was in a weird mood this week. But I think love does that.

Love is temper-tripping.

I watch soap suds slide down my arms and legs, and fall into the drain. The smell of lavender and lemons spike my already giddy mood. I brush my teeth in the shower, and think about Edward. I think about how much he loves me. I think about the voice mails and the text messages he sent me last night. I think about how crazy and sporadic he is, and about how crazy and sporadic they were … I think about how passionate he is, and about how passionate the messages were.

I'm crazy for loving him, but God am I passionate.

Once I'm rinsed and clean, I get out of the shower. I look at my body in the mirror before I dry myself off. I'm not so one-dimensional anymore. I have shape and a little bit of body. My thighs aren't so skinny, and my hip bones aren't so straight. I have a nice arch from my lower back to my bottom. My waist has thickened … and my breasts have grown.

My breasts.

Edward saw them. He put his mouth on me.

Smiling, I wrap myself up in a pink towel and brush out wet my strawberry-blonde hair. There's a knock at the door; it has to be Alice.

"Hold on," I say, not quite ready to leave my Edward-filled bubble.

Another knock. And another.

"What?" I pull open the door, expecting Ally. But it's Edward.

He looks tired with sleep lines on his face and messy hair. He isn't wearing any socks in his Chucks and his white t-shirt is wrinkled. He smiles and rushes in, closing and locking the door behind him. He kisses me. He lifts me up and sets me on the bathroom counter. His hands are on my thighs, sliding under my towel until they rest and grip and hold onto my hips.

He's kissing my neck, and I'm telling him not to leave a mark, and he's telling me to shut the fuck up, and he's sucking on my neck. Edward pushes himself between my legs, and I can feel the softness of his basketball shorts against my bare middle. I bite his shoulder to keep from making a noise and circle my arms around his neck. He's pulling his hands away from my hips and unwrapping my towel.

I'm nervous. I shift. I squirm. He's still sucking my my neck. He's smiling.

"It's okay," he whispers, pushing the towel down.

My entire chest is bare, and he can see me—he is seeing me.

My eyes are closed, and he says, "Open them, Bliss." So I do, and he smiles.

"My pretty girl," he says softly. "My princess girl," he whispers into my ear. Then he touches me. His thumb brushes over my nipple. I suck in a breath and hold onto his arm. His touch feels like I have a million little butterflies fluttering their wings beneath my skin. Edward is so tender, and so mellow, and so conscientious. I feel like my heart has tripled in size. This touch crosses lines. This is new—this touch.

But that's all. That's all he does. After that, he drops to his knees and places his head in my lap and closes his eyes. I run my fingers through his hair and tell him about things that are not important, like how Alice and I took shots, and how I took a sleeping pill last night, and how my mom is making me wear this stupid yellow dress to the dance.

He tells me I look good in yellow.

After a little bit he stands up. I pull him down, and he lays his forehead on my shoulder. I hug him, and he hugs me, and we stay this way for a long while. Then he's kissing my neck again, but it isn't like before. These kisses are small and soft and important for being important and little reminders.

Then: "Holy shit, Bliss, you have a huge fucking hickey on your neck!"

I push him away and fix my towel and look in the mirror. "Edward!" I whisper-yell. I turn and hit him in the chest. "You did that on purpose."

Edward moves my drying hair to the side, inspecting his illegal mark. "You can hide it if you leave your hair down."

Our eyes meet in the mirror. "Thanks a lot, jerk."

"You're welcome, princess baby."

.

.

.

"I'm not wearing them." Alice is pouting, sitting in front of the mirror Indian style with her arms crossed over her chest. She's wearing a tank top and no bra. She has concealer under her eyes and huge curlers in her hair.

I'm beside her, unrolling her hair, smoothing a flat iron through the too curly ends.

I declined the curlers, even though I really wanted them. Having my hair up was no longer an option thanks to Edward and his possessiveness.

"They're just shoes, and it's only one night." I smile at her in the mirror.

Esme straightened my hair for me, and I think she saw the hickey, but she didn't say anything. She only winked and went on to the next piece. My hair looks Esme-perfect, slick and sleek. My make-up is a little on the heavier side, but it looks natural with bronze blushes and light-pink lip gloss.

"Sneak my Chucks in your purse, and I'll sneak you a different dress in mine," Alice says, getting up and rushing to her closet.

The yellow dress my mom is demanding I wear is a little on the conservative side: it's ugly. Cotton, and lacelike, the dress is knee length and cap-sleeved. I would have liked it two years ago, but now…

I wish they would let me grow up.

Alice throws a black tube top on her bed; I sit with the straightener in my hand. "This," she says, digging deeper. "And this," she says, turning around with a dark colored mini-skirt. "You will look so hot!"

I touch the skirt; it's stretch-cotton and will fit so tight, but I love it.

"Can I wear your shoes?" I ask.

"Yes! God, yes!" Alice squeaks, shoving her Chucks in my purse.

.

.

.

Alice looks like a wobble-walking new born baby deer coming down the stairs in her black platform wedges. She's stunning in her baby-pink dress, but the way she's walking is laughable.

"Oh, come on, it isn't that bad," Esme says, snapping a picture of her daughter. "You better fucking believe I'm framing this one," she says.

My mom's eyes still widen with Esme's language. I just shake my head and meet my friend at the end of the stairs. This dance is supposed to be casual, but between my mom and Esme, you'd think it was the freakin' prom. And when Jasper and Garrett show up, it only gets worse.

We take pictures in front of the fire place, with Carlisle, with our moms, with each other, on the porch, with Jasper and Garrett, just Alice and Jasper … just me and Garrett.

"Mom, I'm not his date," I insist.

"It's cool," Garrett says.

I don't ask about Claire, but I worry about Edward when Garrett puts his arm over my shoulder and my mom and Esme snap away.

"Are you sure he isn't your date, Bliss?" Esme asks, checking Garrett out.

I shake my head and complain about the flashes, so grateful that Edward left with Petey and Ben an hour ago.

"Fine," Esme puts the camera down. "Lets go."

Carlisle and Esme are driving us to school since none of us are legal to drive by ourselves yet. Lauren, Leah, Claire, Paul, and his friends are meeting us there. But before we are out the door, Alice makes sure to push my over-sized purse into my hands. Then I watch her stumble out the door to the car.

"Have fun," Mom says.

"I will."

"Call me if anything happens." She kisses my face, smudging my make-up.

I smile. "Okay. I will."

"Your dad is on-duty, so he'll be around."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. "Sure, Mom."

Everyone is in the car. They're waiting on me. So I assure my mom that everything will be okay. I tell her that Alice and I have a ten o'clock curfew, even though a time hasn't been set, and that I'll call her as soon as I get home.

"We might even be home early if it sucks," I say.

That earns me a mini-lecture on my language and appropriate ways to speak to your mother. She says, "I never taught you to use that word, so don't use it with me."

I agree with everything she says, and when my mom is finally gone, I squeeze myself into the back seat with my four friends.

"Did you just get in trouble for saying sucks?" Alice asks, but everyone is waiting for my answer.

Carlisle is looking at me through the rear view mirror, and Esme has turned around in her seat. Jasper's eyes are soft and his smile is supportive. Garrett isn't looking at me, but he's listening. And Alice, who was sitting on Jasper's lap, crawls over Garrett and places her head in my lap. She settles her right foot on the back of her dad's seat, and the other is pressed against the glass window.

"She said she didn't teach me to talk that way," I mumble, feeling embarrassed. I mean, I was just reprimanded by my mother in front of all of my friends. She's making me wear this dress and these flats. I have more guidelines and rules than I can remember. I feel suffocated, like my mom and dad are always watching me.

Let me be my own person!

My parents still enforce a bedtime, and I'm not allowed to be on the phone after eight. Mom gives me crap about how much make-up I wear, or how short my skirt is. She doesn't let me eat sugar or drink soda. Anytime I ask to spend time with Alice, they complain about me never being home. And now I can't speak freely without being censored.

Their restraints are too tight, and I'm claustrophobic. I can feel myself protesting against their hold. It's a pressure in my chest and tension in my jaw. It's the anger that runs cold through my veins every time I'm told what to do, or left feeling untrusted. It's in the pity in Carlisle and Esme's eyes, and in every curse word Alice and Edward are allowed to say.

It makes me want to scream.

But I don't.

I have a part to play.

"Well, that's dumb," Alice says, as we reverse out of the driveway.

By the time we get to school, I feel better: Alice complained about her shoes; Esme worked to convince Alice that heels are a girl's best friend; Carlisle gave Jasper and Garrett a speech about gestures and politeness; I sat back and soaked it all in.

After giving Carlisle and Esme a quick kiss good bye, Alice and I run to the school gym, pass the entrance, and head straight to the restroom. The music from the DJ is thump, thump, thumping through the restroom walls. Thankfully, the ladies' room is empty, and the first thing Alice does is kick off her shoes. I slip out of my flats and step into her platform wedges, already feeling more like myself.

When our shoes are exchanged, Alice and I hold hands and jump up and down.

She helps me unbutton the back of my dress, and when I'm left in my underwear and bra, she slips the black tube top over my head.

"Be careful for my hair," I say, making sure it doesn't lift over my neck.

"Ugh, shut it," she jokes, holding open the skirt for me. I step in. She pulls it up.

The skirt is tight, and a lot shorter on than it looked on the hanger. My bra straps are showing, so Alice slides them down my shoulders and tucks them in my top.

"Holy shit, Bliss, you're fucking hot." Her eyes are broad and coruscant. She honks my boob before bending down to tie her Chucks.

But I can't stop looking at myself. I look older. Way older. I look how I feel … sexy.

Once she's in her shoes, Alice starts brushing her hair back into a tight ponytail. "Help me," she says, struggling to get it tight enough. When her hair is back and clinched, Alice darkens her eyeliner and brightens her red lipstick, then she hands it to me. "Trust me," she says.

I put on more mascara and a little more eye shadow; I want to leave my hair alone, but Alice tells me it needs to be bigger. She doesn't really know what she's doing, teasing the back with a round brush.

It gets stuck.

"Alice!" I shriek.

She pulls on the brush, and I panic. She laughs. "Let me find someone!"

I manage to pull half of what is stuck in the brush out, but the other half gets pretty tangled. So I stand there in front of the mirror with too much make-up on and too much skin showing, and I laugh.

I laugh because it feels so fucking good to be able to do this at all.

Alice shows up with Lauren and Leah, and thankfully, Lauren is able to out-maneuver and unwrap the brush from my hair without pulling too much out of my head. Brush-free, Lauren teases my hair and sprays enough hairspray to give us all lung issues. When we're all teased, bumped, and polished, we take a few pictures from inside the restroom and hide our bags in the back.

The gymnasium has been transformed, but it's still a gym. It smells like basketballs and P.E teachers. The music is loud and bodies are moving, dancing, and socializing. I see a few of my teachers hovering, breaking up too-close couples and eating stale cookies, but other than that, this looks like it can actually be fun.

Alice and I are definitely over dressed; most are in jeans and t-shirts. Except the Sluts, who look as slutty as ever. Victoria is with Brady, which is still really weird to see. Mixie is sitting on Dimitri's lap, and Charlotte is hanging all over Ben, and Edward, who is alone, sits right in the center of them all.

They're fucked up.

That much is apparent in their too-loud laughter and over-exaggerated movement. Victoria is flipping her hair, nonstop. Mixie is laughing overly loud, and Kim is being exceedingly clingy. I can tell Edward isn't sober just by looking at him: his eyes are lazy, his hood is up, and his smile is indolent. He doesn't see me, but I see him.

Until I don't anymore.

"Come on, Izzybelly Bliss!" Alice yells over the music, taking my hand and leading me out to the dance floor.

I'm not a great dancer, and I definitely can't keep up with Alice, but I can move and rock and dip, and in these shoes, anything is possible. I feel like I'm on top of the world. I feel like the entire room is staring at me and Al. I feel good—free—without restriction. So I step, step, step, and sway, sway, sway to the beat of the music, laughing at how good Alice is. Soon Lauren and Leah are with us, and we dance in a little circle while blue, green, red, and purple lights flicker across the gym. One song changes into another and another and another. My head is still light from the shots we took earlier, but I wouldn't mind taking another.

Alice is with me. Her hands are on my hips, and when the music allows, we go low, low, low together.

We're dancing to a song about falling in love in hopeless places, when I see Edward and the boys staring at us. His hoodie is off now, and he's sipping on a bottle of water. He says something to Petey, who says something to Ben. Then Edward winks.

I flip him off and keep dancing with Alice.

But then Jasper and Garrett are with us. I ask Garrett where Claire is, and he says he doesn't know. He asks me if I want to get some air. I look around for Alice, but she's dry humping Jasper on the dance floor, so I say sure.

I take about three steps in the direction of the exit before I feel Edward behind me; his hand is on the back of my neck, and his fingers are pushing into the mark he left on me earlier. "Dance with me," he whispers into my ear. I can smell booze on his breath and pot on his clothes. But, a lot like the first night we kissed, this is different. He takes my hand and his skin is burning warm. He laughs into my hair and spins me around.

I'm stunned, searching his eyes for something that tells me he knows what he's doing, and he's not just high. Edward pulls me forward until I'm pressed against his chest. I can feel his heart racing through his t-shirt.

"What are you doing?" I ask, looking back at Garrett, who looks a little confused himself.

"Dancing with my little sister's best friend," he says loudly, over the commotion. "Isn't that in the job description of the older brother, little girl?"

Glancing over Edward's shoulder, I spot Alice dancing with Petey and Ben. She is out-loud laughing and having the time of her life while the boys dip her back and spin her between the two of them.

In the far corner, where Edward was sitting earlier, the Sluts are huddled together, staring and whispering amongst themselves.

"Don't worry, baby girl," Edward says, spinning me in a circle. When he pulls me back; my back is pressed assistant his chest. "You're trying to kill me with this skirt, right, princess?"

I smile, spinning back out. "Maybe."

Edward clutches his heart over his shirt and leans his head back, pretending to die with a smile.

The song changes to something a little slower, a little older. Edward solo-steps, snapping his fingers, and it's the funniest thing I have ever seen in my entire life. I laugh until I cry. I laugh until I can't take it anymore and snap my fingers with him.

"My dad taught me that shit when I was younger," he says, holding me close, referring to the old-fashioned dance moves. The slowest song of all is playing, and I wasn't sure if Edward and I should dance together, but he promises it's okay. I don't pass it up.

Surprisingly, Alice isn't slow dancing with Jasper, but with Petey. Victoria is dancing with Brady, and Garrett finally found Claire. And I'm with Edward.

Me.

"I liked it," I say, setting my chin on his chest so I can look at his face. A few seconds pass before I ask, "What are you on?"

He shakes his head and says nothing. But then he finally says, "Ecstasy."

"Oh," I say.

"It's harmless … except, I want to touch you so fucking badly."

"Then come home," I whisper.

"Can't," he says right away. "But I'll be home later."

We move in little circles, and I can feel the weight of the week pressing down on me: the pressure of being with Edward, or not being with Edward; my parents; lying to Alice; Victoria … it's all too much, and stupidly, I start to cry.

I have to hide it, though.

My hands shake and my jaw hurts. Tears spill over and run down my cheeks. I hide my face in Edward's shirt and try to collect myself before someone notices.

"Baby," Edward groans. "Stop."

"I'm trying," I say.

"Try harder." I'm not surprised by the anger in his tone. He does have his little sister's best friend crying on his shoulder.

"Don't go, Edward." I wipe my tears away, willing them to stop. He holds me tighter, steadying my trembling frame. Then his hand is on the side of my neck. Then his fingers are wrapping into the roots of my hair. Then he's gripping and fisting and pulling my strawberry-blonde, and his lips are right beside my ear. Then he says, " I love you so fucking much … but I have to go."

She's waiting for him.

Victoria isn't dancing with Brady anymore; she's waiting for Edward at the edge of the dance floor in a navy blue maxi-dress. Her heels are in her hands, and her eyes are glassy like Edward's. She isn't smiling, not until he looks at her.

Edward doesn't say anther word to me before stepping away. He straightens out his shirt and pats Petey on the shoulder as he walks by. When he reaches Victoria, Edward puts his arm over her shoulder, and once the rest of their group has joined them, they leave. Together.

.

.

.

It's the last day of school, and I could not be happier. The last bell has rung and the hallways are full of students trying to get that last signature in their year books and up-tempo attitudes, because tomorrow, we don't have to come back to this place.

I'm on my way to clean out my locker.

I told my mom I was driving home with Alice and Esme, but Esme and Carlisle left early this morning for a long business weekend in New York, so Ben is driving us home. I was halfway to the car before I remembered all the crap I forgot to clear out.

"Take your time, Bliss. We'll wait," Ben said, pushing Alice on her board. Edward and Petey were already at the car.

So I ran back. I watch my feet as I move as quickly as I can. My white, gem flip-flops flop, flop, flop as I speed walk, in a rush to get this over with. I pull my backpack over my shoulder and move a piece of hair over my ear.

I see Victoria at the end of the hallway, hugging Mixie, like they won't see each other tonight. "But it's different," Victoria cries.

Losers.

"A tout à l'heure," I had said when French class was over; adding in the "bitch" after I passed her desk.

At my locker, I drop my bag and circle in my combination. The first thing I see is a folded up piece of notebook paper. I smile, reaching in for the secret. One word: summertime. And it means more than anyone could ever imagine.

I shove the note into my pocket and start going through old folders, even older reports, and lost papers. I make a face when I find a long forgotten apple. I find a trash can and dump everything from my locker into the can. I'm almost done, ready to book-it, taking down pictures of me and Alice, and me and Lauren, and me and Garrett and Jasper and Alice, and me and Edward, Alice, Ben, and Petey, when I feel the tap on my shoulder.

I turn around with a handful of photographs and sigh when I see Brady. "What's up?" I ask, picking my Jansport off of the ground. "I thought Seniors had their last day yesterday?"

He smirks, and it's kind of, sort of odd, because he looks different. He's graduated. He isn't supposed to be here talking to me. He looks older. Like, grown.

"I had to pick up something from a teacher," he says.

"Oh." I don't want to be rude, but I have to go, and this guy is lame. I didn't see him and Victoria together again after the dance, but I saw him with others. Not that I'm interested, because I'm definitely not, but he has to know I'm smarter than this. I take the last picture down, one of me and Alice at the dance, and zip it up in my backpack.

"So," Brady begins," I was wondering if—"

He's cut off by the commotion at the end of the hall. We both snap our heads in the direction of the noise; I smile. He doesn't.

Alice, Jasper, and Garrett are on their boards, only they get off and kick back against the lockers, waiting. Edward, Petey, and Ben keep walking my way. I straighten my backpack and wait for what is about to happen.

Brady takes a few steps away from me. And for someone who isn't afraid of a few sophomores, he sure looks like he might be.

Edward is about ten feet away, closing in quickly. His hair is a little long, I notice. He's wearing a pair of knee length cut-off black skinny jeans and a white v-neck, and his black and white Vans squeak on the tile floor as he walks. His black Yankees hat sits back far on his head, so his entire face is showing. Edward's hands are fisted and his eyes are focused.

He steps right past me, hitting Brady in the mouth in one fluid motion.

The sound of Edward's fist hitting Brady's face is loud and blunt. It's solid.

Brady falls to his knee, and Edward hits him again. This time the sound is louder because Brady hits the ground.

I look down the hall; Alice, Jazz, and Garrett are waiting with their skateboards in their hands, keeping watch.

"Alice!" I shriek, stomping my foot, a little overwhelmed. "What the fuck is happening?"

She shrugs.

Edward has Brady lifted by his shirt. "How many fucking times do I need to tell you to stay away from her, motherfucker?" He lets Brady drop, causing another skin-on-surface sound. Brady curls himself into a ball, and Edward starts to kick him. And if he was mad before, he isn't anymore. He's laughing.

I don't know what to do. I'm stuck still, utterly stricken. I know Edward fights often, but I've never seen it … I've never heard it. The sounds are vicious and relentless. I hear Brady lose air in his lungs; I can see when his lip splits open; I can hear him ask Edward to stop. When Ben and Pete jump in, I take a step forward, although I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. Only Edward sees me.

"Stay the fuck back, Bliss," he says. His hat falls off; I run forward and grab it.

They keep kicking him, and I feel like I should do something, but I don't want to compromise Edward's place in this battle. I'm the only one aware he's fighting for my honor. To everyone else he's doing this to Brady because he wouldn't stay away from his little not-sister.

I always thought it was really stupid when a girl jumps in the middle of a bunch of fighting boys, anyway.

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to keep myself from freaking out over the blood draining from Brady's nose. This is a part of Edward I never get to see, and as sick as it may sound, I welcome it. I love knowing it's for me. I love that no matter how hard he tries to shield me from his other side, our worlds just clashed and I'm a witness.

This passion … I love it.

It isn't until Alice whistles from down the hall that Petey and Ben stop kicking Brady. Alice, Jasper, and Garrett are rolling down the hallway on their boards. Alice yells out, "Principal Banner is coming!"

The three of them roll by me; Alice is blowing the biggest bubble gum bubble ever; it pops, sticking to her nose and chin. Ben is trying to pull Edward off of Brady, but he struggles against his friend and continues his assault. Petey is suddenly with me, slamming my locker closed and picking me up.

"We gotta go!" He starts running down the hall after Alice and our friends with me in his arms.

I hold on, looking back. Ben is able to pull Edward away, and all three of them are on the floor. Edward stands up just as Principal Banner enters the hallway at the opposite end and yells, "Hey!"

Ben starts to run, lagging to wait up for Edward.

"Petey!" I shriek.

"He'll be fine!" he yells, laughing, looking over our shoulders.

Edward is bent over Brady, pointing his finger in his face, saying things he'll never tell me about, and just before Principal Banner reaches them, Edward takes off after me and Petey, and Ben.

He's quick to catch up, and together, we all run out the hallway doors. The sun hits us hard, and I have to squint my eyes. Alice is skating ahead of us, laughing way too loudly through the parking lot. Petey almost falls. I scream. He laughs. We keep running to the car. And right before we get there, I look back again. Edward is smiling. Then he winks.

Petey puts me down and opens the car door. Alice, Jasper, and Garrett are already in and stacked and squished. I go to get in, but Edward tells me to wait up, getting in first. He pulls me in, and I sit on his lap. Then he yells to Ben, "Hurry up and drive!"

We all gravitate to the left as Ben peels out of the school parking lot, and when we're clear of school grounds, we all take a breath before we erupt in a bubble of nervous, adrenaline-filled laughter. Edward circles his arms around my waist and tells me to sit back. I want to rub my fingers over his bloodied knuckles, but I don't.

Instead I say, "Way to start the summer, Edward."

And he says, "You have no fucking idea how good it's going to be, Bliss."