Author's Note: THIS TOOK FOREVER. I KNOW IT DID. I won't be annoying and make excuses though. Here's your chapter, bbs. There's also an outtake in Angela's POV at the end of the chapter since a lot of you like the idea of Emmett and her together.

The next one… there's a good chance it'll be the epilogue. And if it's not, the epilogue is coming soon. :( Thank Kris/_transformed at LJ for the epilogue though, because I wasn't going to be that nice until she guilted me into it, rofl.

This is dedicated to Cate/enamors for a reason I can't remember, lol. I just remember I promised this chapter would be for her, and I love her, so it happened.

Special thanks goes to vampskies for beta-ing and to Jenn/dictums for somehow inspiring me to finish the chapter this week. ILY BBS.

AND THANKS TO ALL OF YOU! I don't think there will be a sequel… not unless I feel nostalgic or inspired… but there will be more fics from me, if you find my writing satisfactory, lol.

The next day I floated my happy self into Forks High with a permanent smile on my face. I upgraded my sweats to jeans and one of Charlie's plaid shirts I had mistakenly shrunk in the laundry the other day. (I was still feeling lazy and now it almost sort of fit me…)

The whole flying-on-a-romantic-cloud thing increased about ten-fold when the object of my constant daydreaming greeted me at the door of my homeroom.

"Bella," he drawled.

"Edward." I balanced on my toes and his chest to receive a welcoming kiss.

"This isn't mine." His smile indented his beard. His hand, warm and gentle, snuck between my skin and the collar of my shirt, his fingertips slipping beneath the strap of my top and bra.

I bit my lip. "Oh no. It's definitely all yours."

I admired the white of his teeth, the crinkles around his eyes that accompanied his soft chuckle. Then I sort of sighed and stifled a moan when he leaned over to kiss my collarbone. I also sort of nestled my nose into the crook of his offered neck and breathed him in.

Yum. Edward.

He hummed my name in this very illegal way and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me tight against him. His hair was soft and I scratched his scalp lightly, pleased with the way he turned his kiss below my ear.

I shivered and I felt his smile.

He definitely had learned which buttons to push.

"My dad's working late today," I murmured. A flash of heat curled up in my tummy.

Charlie worked late every day, but he was always home by six for dinner—only today he was driving up to La Push to visit one of his old friends for some birthday, and I… I had said I was too busy with schoolwork to go with him.

Which wasn't a complete lie—I had mounds of assignments I was neglecting, but why would I do homework if I could do Edward instead?

Just the two of us, alone in an empty house, in a bed.

The thought kind of made me nervous and couldn't pinpoint exactly why.

"Is that so?" he teased, pulling back enough to look into my eyes. He must have seen the hesitance in my gaze, because he stopped momentarily to kiss my lips, palms cradling my jaw.

"That's so." Maybe if I looked deep enough into his searching, striking green eyes he could decode why I was suddenly so nervous of that sort of intimacy between us. We had already done it once now (plus an hour of fooling around yesterday)—no biggie now, right? I memorized the flecks of gold and blue and hues of green, waiting for an epiphany. When it didn't happen, I asked, "Want to come over?"

"Why? So we can…?" The question trailed off into… whatever world in which open-ended questions trailed off into. I blushed and made an effort not to duck my head.

"Uhm… well… yeah. There'll be a… bed…" I shifted on my feet.

Edward narrowed his eyes curiously. "Bella, my answer is obviously yes, but is there a reason why you look so nervous about it?"

Uhm. Ugh. I fidgeted more. "I don't know, I… well, it's just… I really don't know… I guess… I don't know." He tilted his head at me, smiling. "I guess… it's a bed," I finished lamely.

"Do you have something against… beds?" He smirked.

I glowered for a moment. "No, but it's just… I guess it was easier last time when we weren't so… conventional."

He wasn't getting it. His lips parted and closed and parted again. "You want to be… unconventional?"

"No, argh." I took a deep breath. "What I mean is this is like… a plan. With a bed. And beds mean… conventional… stuff with things and…" My articulacy was failing. It was really failing. My voice rose high with frustration. "There's pressure, okay? When we do it in a bed, it's like saying 'oh this is serious. This isn't just fucking around in the backseat of a car.' It's… it's special, okay?"

"It wasn't special the first time?" He looked even more amused.

Asshole thought this was funny.

"That's not what I meant! It's…" I sighed. "It was just… surprising and a little uncomfortable." Dejectedly, my tense shoulders relaxed. I dropped my eyes to his chest. "This would be… the exact opposite. This would be… for real."

He smiled warmly and tucked hair behind my ear, curling his fingers and rubbing the lobe gently. "I see," he realized softly. "Well then," he sighed, "what should I do to make it special for you?"

I blushed harder. "N-nothing. I was just, you know, saying…"

He laughed quietly and rested his forehead against mine. "I love you. You're utterly adorable."

I thought I was just silly, but I could settle for adorable instead. "Well, uhm… thanks, I think."

He kissed me and I melted in this all hot and bothered way.

Mm, Edward.

"Fuck, nobody wants to see that shit."

Bah, Emmett.

Edward pulled away and I glared at Emmett, who was miming a gagging noise. Immature, interrupting… Emmett. Grr.

"Thank you for ruining the moment," I said snidely with a smile. "Again."

"You're welcome," he answered with all the cheekiness in the world. "Just doing my part to rid the world of projectile vomiting."

"What's up?" Edward asked, casually holding onto my waist.

Emmett made an 'I dunno' face and rocked back and forth on his heels, elbows locked and hands stuffed into his pockets. "Nothing. You guys?"

I raised an eyebrow. Uh huh. "Moment, remember?" I reminded him.

"Boo hoo. Cry me a river," he mocked.

"So, you know Angela, right?" I shot back.

Edward snorted and then covered his smile. Emmett went… a delightful pink color. Ha. Point for me.

"Angela?" He tried to blank his expression, but the surprised blush gave him away. "We've only gone to school together for-fucking-ever."

"She's in my homeroom, you know." I smiled slyly, gesturing to the door between us.

"What do I care?" he asked gruffly. Then he glanced at his shoes. Then he peeked into the room.

I giggled and Emmett straightened, his lips pursed. "Shut it, Swan."

"Emmett and Angela sitting in a tree…" I sing-songed, and then shrieked when he darted forward.

I was only half aware people were watching as I clutched Edward's waist and swung behind him, laughing hard and just missing Emmett's lunge.

I peeked over Edward's shoulder and stuck my tongue out at him. "Missed me."

His eyes were narrowed comically, his lips stretched into a grin. Edward reached back a hand to pat my head. "Be nice, Bella. Emmett's a sensitive guy."

"Sensitive my ass," he grumbled. "You should learn how to control your woman, Cullen." He pointed an accusatory finger at me. I huffed and stuck my tongue out again.

"Be nice, Emmett. Bella's got a mouth on her. She can't help it."

I poked his kidney in retaliation and he jumped. "Hey! You're just taking sides when it suits you!"

"Well, I'm not stupid," he mumbled with a smile. "Someone's got to keep the peace. Now, I need my kidney, stop that." He batted my hand away and I giggled, wrapping my arms around his neck from behind.

I kissed between his shoulder blades. "As long as you protect me from the big bad Emmett."

"When you least expect it, Swan! Your knight in shining armor won't always be around!"

I jumped up once to glance at him and then tilted my chin up on Edward's shoulder. All this tiptoeing was beginning to hurt. "Oh, what are you going to do? Blush me to death?"

Emmett opened his mouth to provide an oh-so-witty retort, but that was when Angela slowed to a curious stop in front of the door. "Hi?" she asked quietly.

"Hi, Angela," I smiled from my stead. "Emmett's attacking me."

"I'm not attacking you," he scoffed. "I was, uhm…" he turned to Angela, his scowl transforming into a charming grin in one second flat. "I was waiting for you."

Realizing it was probably safe, I scooted around Edward's side. "If he hurts her I'll kill him," I whispered into his ear.

"I'd like to see that," Edward muttered with a smirk.

I fidgeted in my seat two periods later in math. I chewed on my pen and watched the light drizzle outside. I also ignored the entire lesson and Lauren and Jessica's whispering.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what they were snickering about, but: no big. I was used to it.

Somehow it didn't hurt any less when I caught the words "probably abuses her" and "totally fighting" and "I saw it at work."

I readjusted my grip on the edge of the cool hard desk. My head throbbed from the tightness of my jaw and the effort it took not the spin around and curse them both out.

More rumors. Great. But I wouldn't encourage it by causing a scene.

That was the reasoning I was sticking with completely and totally. I was like the sword in the stone. I was crazy-glued to this decision. I was—

"He grabbed her! I saw it," Jessica gushed. "Seriously, I warned her. Poor Bella…"

I was totally spinning around to snap under my breath, "He did not grab me. Mind your own business."

Oops.

Jessica and Lauren sneered simultaneously. I wondered if they practiced.

I felt the anger fuming up. My lips trembled and I chomped down on the bottom one to quell the shaking. It didn't help that they exchanged a knowing glance and turned back to me with false concern.

"Bella, I'm just trying to help you," Jess finally whispered to me. "He looked like he was hurting you," she said importantly.

What. The. Fuck.

"You don't know the first thing about Edward," I hissed. "You don't know anything."

"Oh, uh," she laughed humorlessly and flipped her hair. "I think we do, Bella. We've only known him like, the entirety of the last ten years."

Lauren rose a brow at me, her glossed pink lips puckering to hold in laughter. "I think you just need to face facts, sweetie."

I wish I could say I regretted what I did next. I really wish I could say I didn't mean to overreact, but if I did it would be without an ounce of sincerity.

I do wish I had a picture of Lauren and Jessica's faces when I stood up and slammed my textbook closed.

I do wish I had recorded the moment when everyone turned to look at me, and I said through clenched teeth, "You need to face facts. You're both pathetic and have nothing better to do with you time than to make shit up and masquerade around believing that everyone thinks you're oh so witty, when in reality you're just morons who know nothing. You don't know anything! You don't know anything about Edward or me. You don't know anything about his life or my life and you sure as hell don't know why he brought that gun to school! So do everyone a favor and shut up about things you can't possibly understand!"

I snatched up my books, feeling a weight dissipate off my shoulders. I sucked in new air, the anger driving me forward. Of course, I stumbled a bit on my bag as I grabbed it from the floor, but that minute embarrassment didn't ruin the moment at all.

All I could think was: Finally.

The stares were starting to anger me.

They'd bothered me before—they'd irritated me, but I had ignored them for a long time. Maybe it was because of the embedded look in my brain of Jessica and Lauren's shocked faces, but now they were just pissing me off.

I pushed through the cafeteria doors, the adrenaline in my veins buzzing through my entire body.

I didn't feel very balanced. I was angry and victorious and annoyed. I was in love with the lonely man sitting in that far corner near the vending machines, the one with the book of Emily Dickinson poetry and peanut butter sandwich. I was sad and frightened and happy all at once.

But mostly, the stares were starting to get on my already fragile nerves.

Mostly because I had ignored the implications of them. I had followed in Edward's footsteps and kept my mouth shut and eyes closed.

I dropped my things next to him with a resounding loud thud, raising a challenging eyebrow at his look of confusion and curiosity.

"Bella…" he began tentatively. His lips curled up into a little smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling.

"Let's go," I said impulsively.

Skipping twice in one week. I was living on the edge.

"Go?"

"Yeah, go. Let's go." I gestured to the doors behind me and kept my face imposing. I hoped it was imposing. I was going for imposing, at least. Edward blinked at me and it was adorable, yes, but it was also cutting into my impulsive cutting time. "I need to get out of here."

Slowly, something dawned on him, and I watched as he inclined towards me, shutting the book. I also noticed Mike Newton glaring at me (he did that a lot lately). I noticed Jessica and Lauren snickering behind their hands and polished nails, and I noticed the cursory glances shot our way.

And then my attention zeroed back on Edward and his emerald breathtaking eyes and the concern in them. "Are you all right?"

"No," I snapped, and fell into the seat, crushing my things. "I made a scene in math. I told Jessica and Lauren they were morons."

"I have the best girlfriend in the world," he replied glibly.

If I were in a better mood, I would have laughed or at least cracked a smile. Instead, I shook my head. "Jessica was saying you were hurting me when she saw us fighting Saturday," I blurted out.

Immediately, his eyes hardened. "What?"

I leaned in closer and took his hands in mine, our foreheads nearly touching. "I can't take this anymore, Edward," I said, choking on the words.

He straightened, his eyes traveling and dragging across the noisy cafeteria to find her. I recognized that burning barely controlled anger, that sizzling indignation in his gaze. It lingered and grew with each passing second.

I watched his chest constrict with shallow breaths, and his grip around my fingers was too still and too firm.

There was hardness in his features; his jaw was stone beneath the messy stubble on his chin. I waited, but he didn't move, and the depth of his rage seemed to suck mine right out of me.

Suddenly I just felt hollow and tired. Deep in the pit of my stomach, I felt sadness starting to fill in the gaps. I didn't think, only lunged forward to wrap my thin arms around his neck and hold tight.

"They'll always talk, Edward," I whispered to his inert form. I wished with all my being that we could leave from here, together. That we could start over and never have to deal with that sort of shit ever again.

I closed my eyes tight.

A few more months. Just a few more months.

Warm palms slid up from my waist, followed the contours of my back. Fingers grasped the tendrils of my hair, and I sighed when he buried his nose into my shoulder, when he started breathing again.

But all of his smiles afterwards felt forced, and I couldn't help but think so did mine.

The deep dark feeling of foreboding didn't lessen, not even when I led Edward into my empty house, the afternoon rain pattering on the rooftop. Inside it was drafty because Charlie must have left the window open, and it didn't help that Edward's smile was tight.

I sighed and let down my hood, shaking out my damp hair. Edward clicked the door closed and leaned on the slab of wood, his head lolling back to make a gentle thud.

I tucked hair behind my ear self-consciously; our hands were clasped loosely between us. Suddenly planning to have sex around the availability of an empty house just seemed silly and juvenile, as if my life had become some teenage melodrama.

But I wanted him, despite the sadness, the emptiness, and the quiet and frustration festering in the pit of my stomach. I returned his anxious smile and took a moment to enjoy the warmth of his hand dwarfing mine, and the exact hue of green in his eyes. I remembered what he felt like, how he held me, and the touch of his kiss before I took a step forward.

I wanted him because of those things—I wanted him because we only had each other to lean on right now. Right now, there was only us and the quiet drizzle of rain, the soft cool breeze chilling my skin. I pressed against him, exhaling when him arms wrapped around me, embracing me. I nestled my face into his crisp cotton shirt and breathed in home.

"We always have each other," I whispered.

His lips kissed my hair and he inhaled deep. "We're graduating soon," he said softly, tracing circles over my spine.

I nodded. "Yeah."

He paused. "Carlisle wants to move to New York. I didn't—it wasn't finalized until this weekend—we didn't know if there was any chance, but there's a doctor there…"

"I'll go with you." The words were out of my mouth before I even had the chance to think them over. I rested my chin on his chest and looked up at him in absolute resolution, my whole body humming with devotion. I held onto him tighter. "I'll go with you."

"Bella…" He looked pained, his fingers brushing my upturned cheek. "You don't have to change your life for me. Wherever you want to go, Bella, I'll go with you."

"I know. But I want to go to New York. I got into Columbia." It was the only Ivy I had applied to on a whim, and suddenly I was so thankful I had taken that small chance. I could picture the acceptance letter up in my room, sitting on my dresser, like it had been for a week. I remembered the hesitation I'd felt as I set it aside, thinking of Edward.

Now I felt none.

"We'd be going together." I smiled.

His smile slowly appeared; first his unsure eyes brightening, then his lips tipping up until he let out one relieved quiet laugh. "Together," he repeated.

I nodded and laughed too, my grin only interrupted as his lips pressed against mine, again and again, each time the kiss deepening. It wasn't long before his hands were pressing me closer, snaking beneath my shirt, his lips melting me against him.

I sighed when he picked me up and I easily wrapped my legs around his waist, giggling softly as he careened forward towards the stairs. "You've never been to my room," I said into his ear as we ascended, pressing smiling lips to his neck.

"I'm looking forward to the bed part," he admitted, and I knew he was grinning.

I knew we had each other and we'd leave this place.

OUTTAKE

I had been interested in men before. I wasn't a complete recluse; I didn't find anything foreign about finding somebody of the opposite sex attractive.

A while ago I had even gone out on a few non-dates with Ben. He was sweet and watched too many kung fu movies, but it just hadn't worked out.

I had kissed him twice. To my extreme embarrassment, it hadn't gone too well, but regardless—I had some experience.

Who was I kidding? I had none.

I definitely had none when it came to Emmett McCarty.

The problem with Emmett McCarty is—well—you know that boy, the one you are just hopelessly crushing on for years on end? The one that you insert as the lead in every romance novel you devour with a flashlight under the covers in middle school?

It's hopeless and it's silly. It never actually pans out because you're just too shy and too mousy and too engrossed in literature and your own imagination to try anything or say hello.

Well, Emmett McCarty used to be that boy for me.

I let it go eventually—I got over it, or so I liked to tell myself.

In freshman year I started to talk to Edward Cullen more—and sometimes Emmett would wave to us in the halls or stick around every now and then for a few words. They'd push each other's buttons like boys do and I'd smile at my feet, trying not to blush when his eyes met mine accidentally.

The fantasy might have been disillusioned by age, but the attraction remained in some semi-dormant form, always hovering at a glimpse of his hulking body turning a corner or the boom of his laugh in the lunchroom.

Saturday had felt like one of my ancient dreams.

I'd been picking out a few things for dinner from Safeway—I'd walked, because it had only been drizzling, and I liked the rain.

Emmett had been there with a welcoming smile and a helping hand. Despite the instant thrill I felt at his presence, I squashed my enthusiasm. I tried to convince my overactive imagination that helping me reach the olives was not the equivalent of some grand romantic gesture.

But his dimples were adorable when he grinned, and he had insisted on driving me home—only he had also insisted on going for coffee first, to "catch up."

I'd nursed a cup of tea, the apple cinnamon spicy and sweet on my tongue. I remembered his fingers twisting the paper straw cover of the coke he'd ordered, and the nervous way he joked that neither of us had ordered any coffee.

I felt a little bit like I could like him again, and maybe that I had never stopped.

Later, when he had leaned in to kiss me the exact moment I looked out his car window, I was floored. I was more confused about that than anything else in my entire life, because how could Emmett—adorable, interesting, caring Emmett, the boy who hardly gave me the time of day—be interested in me, too? When had this even become an issue in my life again—a mere hour ago?

His lips, soft and warm, had brushed the parentheses of my smile, and I had whipped around to face his questioning gaze and bright eyes.

His shoulders were even bigger up close, drowning out my small frame plastered against the seat of his Jeep.

"Sorry," he blurted out.

I did the only thing I could do—I kissed the blush on his cheek and left with a small shaking "thanks," as if the exchange had been completely normal and not entirely unnerving.

Now I was hovering on the gym building wall, my stomach somersaulting. I wasn't used to all this adrenaline. I wasn't sure why I was bothering. I didn't know what I would say or if I would say anything. I took out a book as protection and stuck my nose in it, though I wasn't reading a word.

Maybe if I blended into the wall he wouldn't notice my presence and would walk right by me.

I heard the locker room door open but I refused to look up. I ignored the laughing and taunting of the boys passing as if I were invisible.

"Angela?"

My heart sped up to an unhealthy pace. I peeked up above my glasses at a blurry Emmett. "Oh, hi," I choked out.

I saw his lips curl up into a smile, indenting his dimple. I pushed my glasses up to appreciate the full effect. He leaned his shoulder against the wall next to me. It wasn't close, but it was close. I was astounded momentarily—surprised at the thought that I wanted him even closer.

"Did you come to pick me up from class?" he asked.

There was a small sweat stain on his t-shirt beneath the apex of his large chest. He pinched the cloth and shook it out. I could still see beads collecting at his hairline. One of his curls swept across his forehead.

I held the book tight against my chest. "I was reading," I flat out lied, biting my lip.

"That's cool," he said casually. "You want to sit with me at lunch?"

"Really?" I blushed at the eagerness and shock in my voice. "You usually sit with—"

"I want to sit with you today," he stopped me. "We weren't done catching up," he continued after I didn't respond—I was too stunned. I let him take my book and scoop up my heavy bag like it was a piece of paper. The purple fabric looked silly resting against his beefy shoulder. "Anyway, I'm getting fucking tired of Newton's mouth. I was thinking of—oh, sorry." He winced and looked back to me.

"Huh?" I shook my head.

"I cursed," he explained guiltily.

I felt a grin light of my features. "I don't care if you curse, Emmett. I listened to you curse at Edward for years."

He smiled gently, remembering, and then turned back around abruptly. "Good, because I curse a lot." I found a pace beside him, the adrenaline morphing into happy butterflies. "I talk a lot too, so just tell me to shut up if I'm talking too much."

"Okay," I grinned up at him.

"Anyway, what were you reading?"