Disclaimer: We are not Stephenie Meyer and therefore are not the rightful owners of the Twilight series or anything within it. Silly. :)

A/N: You guys were so close. :( I thought for sure you guys were going to get it. 5 off! I almost gave it to you anyway, but things came up yesterday. Thanks to all of you that wished me a happy birthday. :) (It was amazing, by the way. My sister got me tickets to go see the Shins on Saturday night up in Bellingham. It started pouring rain and, by the end, we all looked like we had jumped in a pool with our clothes on. Super. Epic.) Also, happy belated birthday to Anna Diamond and sakurarwr who have the same birthday as me. I love you all. :)

As for the mini-contest, there was a tie between Lexie2156 and Jasper winked. I couldn't get this chapter out to them before I posted, but I'm thinking I'll give them the next one instead. Here were their responses:
Lexie2156:
As for the punishment, I think Esme should make him take the bus. School bus or just transit bus, I don't know, but I want it to be the school bus. (Humiliating!) Then she's going to... so, I don't know if they have this at their high school, but pretend, okay? You know that event where they auction off boys for a date and the girl who bids the highest gets a lunch date with that boy? Well, Esme should put him in that. Imagine how high the bidding would go...
Jasper winked:
As far as punishment, I think Esme besides taking away car, phone and going out privileges and apologizing to Bella, should make him work at the hospital as an orderly cleaning up other people's vomit and give the money to Bella and buy her a new pair of Chucks.

For this chapter, my main inspiration was the song "Turn on Me" by the Shins. It fits Bella and Edward perfectly in this story, if you ask me. If you don't want to listen to the song, just read the lyrics. It's my favorite Shins song (and my ringtone, actually. Haha.) I think my record player is sick of me playing side two of that album over and over again. Haha. So I got it on iTunes to make everything easier.

Cursed
By cALLIEfornia BENches

Chapter 19: The Pink Elephant

EPOV

Previously, on Cursed:

A yawn escaped my lips as the elevator doors opened. But before I stepped out, I noticed Isabella standing in front of me, still wearing that damn turtleneck.

I didn't move for a moment as we just stared at each other. I think we both wanted to say something, but I wasn't sure what. She must not have known, either, or else we wouldn't be standing there, awkwardly staring at each other.

Only when the doors started to close did I realize that I needed to get off on this floor, and she needed to get on. I lurched forward and stopped the doors before exiting the elevator. We still didn't say anything to each other as she got on, and I was afraid I was going to chicken out. But when the doors started to close again, I reached out and put an arm between them so they'd open again.

"You want to go to lunch tomorrow or something?" I asked, rubbing the back of my neck with one hand.

So, it was tomorrow—er, today. Either way, I was standing awkwardly in front of the mirror in a polo and a pair of khaki shorts and I felt like a tool. I hated polos with every fiber of my being, but they were the only decent articles of clothing that I owned. And if I was going to go to lunch with Isabella, I wanted to look relatively nice. We were going to be at a semi-decent restaurant, a little hidden bistro around the corner from my gym.

I tugged at the collar before deciding to unbutton the first few buttons and reveal my white undershirt. At least that wasn't completely uncomfortable. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. Only a few more minutes and I'd walk over to get Isabella.

I was nervous, that much was for sure. But I didn't think it was because I was talking to Isabella. I was more nervous to talk about the fact that we slept together and what to tell the others. Not to mention what we'd tell our parents. That'd be an awkward conversation. I didn't even want to get into that. Not even a little bit.

A deep breath escaped from between my lips and I looked at the clock. It was 12:02. I told her I'd pick her up at noon, but there was no shame in being fashionably late, was there? Maybe there was. Maybe she wanted me to pick her up right on time. Maybe she didn't like fashionably late.

My lip twitched. I should just go. I'm late enough to be considered fashionably late.

Locking the door behind me, I walked next door and knocked twice. She answered, looking a bit flushed and wearing another turtleneck, only this time it was part of a knee-length black dress. It looked nice, but I had never really been a fan of turtlenecks. I thought women's necks were beautiful; there was no reason to hide them. It was weird for her, too. I hadn't seen Isabella wear a turtleneck since she was like five.

"Ready to go?" she asked, biting her lip. She was nervous too, it seemed. She grabbed her purse from the entry table and I nodded as I motioned with my arm down the hallway toward the elevators.

The walk to the elevators was quiet. The ride to the restaurant was quiet. It was silent. It was awkward. It was like this the entire way to the restaurant, even when we sat down at the table. The big pink elephant in the room was suffocating us.

Her menu was held up in front of her face, looking all too closely at the choices. It wasn't that hard—there were like five options on the menu. I knew she was trying to avoid the conversation; I was, too.

It was still silent until the waitress came over to take our orders. And then as soon as she disappeared, we both knew it was time to face reality. She no longer had a menu to hide behind, and I no longer had the excuse of her having a menu to hide behind. We needed to talk. It was just a matter of who wanted to start the conversation. And though I didn't want to, I figured I was the one that instigated the kiss in the first place. I should start this as well.

I cleared my throat. "We should talk," I said simply.

She nodded slowly, keeping her gaze focused on the deep brown of the table. Her right pointer finger was absently tracing the designs within the wood. "We should," she said quietly.

But then the silence took over again, and neither of us was sure exactly what we should say. It was like the elephant, disapproving of our speaking, wanted to make it presence known again. And part of me wanted to apologize, but I knew that wouldn't do any good in the long run. I knew Isabella well enough to know that she was not the kind of girl to sleep around. And what she did with me? That was sleeping around.

"I don't believe in one night stands," she said, so quietly that I wasn't sure she had even said anything at all.

This was what I had been afraid of. She was going to want a relationship, and I wasn't ready for that. I wasn't ready for a relationship, period, let alone one with Isabella Swan. That would be insanely tough to explain to everyone. 'Hey, guys. Yeah, Isabella and I are an item. We went from hating each others' guts to falling madly in love. Surprise?'

No. No, that would most certainly not do. They would never believe that we had fallen madly in love. Hell, I couldn't even imagine something like that. It was way too far out there.

"Edward?" she asked timidly, bringing me back to the conversation.

"Sorry," I said quickly, not giving a reason for my absent-mindedness. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out what I was thinking about.

"So...," she drifted off.

"So... you don't believe in one night stands. What do you want, then?" I picked up my fork and started twirling it in a circle on the table. Anything to distract my attention from the girl in front of me that would potentially be asking me for a relationship within the next few seconds.

She rested her head in her hands on the table. "Fuck, Edward. I don't know."

Immediately, my defense mode got switched on. "Hey, don't get mad at me because you don't know what you want."

Isabella looked up and glared at me. "I may not remember much from that night, but my memory seems to tell me you were the one that started it all. So don't get angry at me when it's you that put me in this position, okay? Fuck, I don't even know if you used fucking protection, so I'm the one that could potentially be pregnant with an STD. Who the fuck knows where you've put that dick of yours."

"Shut the fuck up," I said, my voice raising a little. The only other person in the restaurant, an elderly lady who sat a few tables in front of us, shushed me and started muttering about my poor use of language, especially in the presence of a lady. I lowered my voice a leaned forward so she could hear me. "I'm clean, alright?" I said, a sarcastic note finding its way into my tone. "Whether you want to believe it or not, I don't go sticking my dick in random girls. I've had like two one night stands in my entire life, and I got tested after each one. So you can shut your pretty mouth when you don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

She shook her head vehemently. "I have every right to speak up. It's my body that's in jeopardy here, okay?"

I pursed my lips. "Aren't you on birth control or something?"

Her eyes rolled. "Of course, dumbass, but that doesn't mean I'm not concerned."

"I always wear protection, no matter how wasted I am. It was engraved into the back of my mind by both Esme and my mother growing up. I don't think there'd be a way for me not to remember, so don't worry. I'm not stupid enough to go without."

She shut up and the silence stretched between us again.

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out "What's with the turtlenecks?"

She blushed a deep crimson and looked down to her lap so her hair covered her face. My brows furrowed. I mean, I knew wearing a turtleneck was embarrassing in itself, but not so much that she'd turn that color. So what was bothering her? When she didn't answer, I asked again.

Her eyes flickered once towards mine before glancing down in her lap again. "Nothing," she said.

"Isabella, it's obviously something. You don't turn that color when it's nothing."

Her hand made its way behind her neck and she rubbed it lightly. "I have to," she whispered.

"What?"

She glanced around the room to see who was looking at her. When she saw that she was the only one, she leaned forward and pulled down one side of the turtleneck, exposing her neck. Only it wasn't the smooth, pale neck that I was used to seeing. This neck had a huge purple bruise forming at the base. I reached a hand forward and hesitated for a second, meeting her eyes. When she nodded, I continued forward and traced one finger lightly over the bruise.

"What happened?" I asked.

She raised an eyebrow, looking at me as if I were stupid. "That's only one. I've got six others from there all the way down my stomach, thanks to a certain someone," she emphasized with a pointed look at me.

"What'd I do?"

"Sucked on my neck, chest, and stomach until they bruised," she said in a flat tone.

I cringed. "Sorry."

She shrugged. "Whatever. I may not love it, but I have to deal with them for the next few weeks so I may as well get used to the turtlenecks, at least until they fade enough for me to be able to use makeup to cover them up." She let go of the edge of her shirt and it bounced back up to her neck. "Thanks for those, by the way," she said sarcastically. "That made things awkward when Alice saw."

I tossed my hands up into the air. "Well, Jesus, Isabella. What the fuck were you showing Alice for?"

"I said it once before and I'll say it again. You were the one that got me into that mess. Don't you dare blame me for anything that happened when it's just as much my fault as it is yours. And you can't get mad at me for telling Alice. You can't honestly say you didn't tell someone when you woke up?" she asked, her eyebrows rising like a knowing mother after their child was caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

I looked down. So I told Emmett. That wasn't that big of a deal. Alice was my sister. That'd be weird for Isabella to be sharing secrets about what I was like in bed and the hickeys I gave her with my own flesh and blood.

"Still, Isabella. My sister? You couldn't have at least chosen someone that wasn't related to me?"

"Fuck you, Edward Masen," she spat, standing up and heading towards the door.

For a moment, I almost let her go. But we had taken the same car, so even if she called someone she'd be outside for a while. I stood and, motioning to the waitress that I'd be right back, followed Isabella out into the front of the restaurant and found her sitting on a bench.

"The waitress was bringing out our food as I was leaving. It's going to get cold if you don't come back," I said quietly.

She looked up at me from the corner of her eye. "And why would I want to do that? So we can fight some more?" She shook her head and stood up so she was facing me. "Edward, the only reason I came out here today was so we could discuss what happened and what do to next. If I wanted to fight, I would have just come over to your apartment and brought up some old topic that we've fought about for years." She took a deep breath. "Edward, what happened the other night changed things drastically between us. You know that and I know that. So why are we still fighting? Why can't we, for once in our lives, be civil adults and just talk it out?"

I didn't have anything to say. She was right, and I knew it.

"I'll go back in there, but only if you promise that we talk about it. Calmly. Like the twenty-four year olds that we are."

I felt my head nod once, and I lead the way back inside, holding the door for her. When she sat down at the table in front of her food, she took a bite and looked at me, waiting for me to start.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have gotten angry earlier."

She finished her bite before saying anything. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have told Alice. Now, let's start talking. We've got a lot of ground to cover in a fairly short amount of time." I nodded, waiting for her to continue. "Like I said earlier, I'm not one to just fool around and let it go. I like to pride myself on not being slutty and skanky. I love that I'm able to say I've never had sex without a relationship first."

"So," I said. "What do you want to do about us? A relationship isn't really in the cards for us, no matter how much this changed for us. We were pretty much cursed from the start; we were destined to hate each other."

Isabella cocked her head to the side. "Were we destined to hate each other, or were we just destined to be pushed into the same things?"

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it," she said. "Our entire lives, we've been stuck together—quite involuntarily, might I add—doing everything that the other did. We had the same classes, the same college, the same job offer, the same everything. So are we really cursed to hate each other our entire lives, or are we just cursed to spend the rest of our lives following the other around?"

I took a bite from my turkey club and thought about it. "Don't the two go hand in hand, though? You could argue that too much time with someone will make you resent them."

"You could," she said. "I guess it depends on how you see it. Is the glass half empty or half full?"

I looked down at my diet coke and took a big sip. "I'd say it's half empty, now," I said.

Her eyes shut. "Edward, I'm trying to be calm but you're making it really hard for me to concentrate on not starting a fight with you." I could tell she was trying hard not to raise her voice or get angry, and I immediately felt bad. She was so much better at getting along than I was.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "It's still new to me." She nodded, telling me it was alright. "But could you just answer my question from earlier? You keep avoiding it."

"Which one?" she asked.

"What do you want? Would you prefer we were in a relationship and try to make it work, if only for a short amount of time? Or would you rather we just pretend this never happened and you just go on with your life and I go on with mine, and may the best man win with the publishing company? Honestly, it's up to you. Of course I have my preferences but I don't want to be an asshole if it makes you uncomfortable."

She sighed and took a bite of her sandwich. "Can I think about it for a little while? I know what I want, but I have to make a decision based on what's best for both of us. And what I want... well, I don't think it'll benefit either of us, let alone both."

I nodded. "Of course. Do you think you'd be able to make a decision by the end of lunch?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Let's just eat."

So we did. The silence was overwhelming, but it seemed as though the awkward pink elephant had disappeared. This was more of a comfortable silence than anything else. The only sounds were the occasional scrape of a fork against a plate or one of our glasses being set back down onto the table. Not even the old lady in the corner was making any noise.

In all honesty, I tried to picture what my life would be like if Isabella decided that we should try out a relationship. It was hard to picture. I couldn't really imagine myself being completely romantic for the girl I grew up despising.

But maybe she was right. Maybe we weren't supposed to hate each other, and maybe we both secretly knew that. We fought and competed, of course, but that wasn't to say we had never done anything nice for each other. Like that time senior year I helped her finish her chem test because she had gone two days without sleeping so she could study and ironically fell asleep in the middle of the test. Granted, I had purposely gotten a few wrong so we wouldn't have the exact same answers, but she still got an A.

Or all those times she had been there for me when I wasn't feeling well or was really down about my parents. Isabella was always there for me, lending her shoulder to cry on and someone to hold on to when it was absolutely necessary.

Maybe a relationship with Isabella wouldn't be so bad. But then what would happen when the time came and it was decided which one of us got the book printing? It seemed to me like that would just be a huge mess. And did I really want to get into that? Was she actually worth it, or would it be a wasted effort? To be honest, it could easily go either way. Would I be willing to sacrifice the friendship—or lack thereof—of someone I had grown up with, and would most likely see at every family get together for the rest of my life?

If she wanted to, I'd help her out. It was like she said: it was my fault we were here. I owed her something. And if that something was a relationship, even if it was only for a few days, I'd do it.

The check came after we finished eating, and I slipped my card in before Isabella could fight me. She put on a menacing face before slamming her wallet back into her purse.

"My treat," I said. "It's my fault we're here, I should be the one paying."

She huffed quietly. "Edward, I think I made a decision."

"Okay, let's hear it," I said. There were nervous butterflies attacking my stomach, but I did what I could to keep them at bay. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous, but I was. Maybe it was because I was dreading this confrontation. Or maybe it was because I was afraid she would choose to go back to how we were. That'd be easier, wouldn't it? Or maybe I was nervous that she'd want a relationship, and I wouldn't be the best person for the job.

"Edward... do you mind if we try out a relationship? Like, boyfriend girlfriend? Even if it's only for a few days, I really hate having done a one night stand. I've always hated them, and I feel like an awful hypocrite by having one. It'd make everything easier for me if we just dated for a little while. I'm sorry I'm so selfish, but this whole thing has been eating at me since that night and I just—"

"Shh," I said. "Isabella, stop. It's okay. I don't mind being your boyfriend, if only temporarily. But I do think we should have some ground rules before we do anything."

She nodded, looking to me to continue.

"First and foremost, let's keep this to ourselves. If you don't tell Alice, I won't tell Emmett. I think we both know that neither of them can keep a secret worth shit. So for now, it's just between you and me. Not anyone else."

"That sounds reasonable," she said. "I've got one, too. No serious romance. I mean, I'm not saying treat me like dirt, but there's no need to go out and buy me expensive jewelry because you think it'll 'match my eyes' or 'made you think of me.' I don't like that shit. Like at all."

I agreed with her. "That shouldn't be a problem, especially since there's a good chance this will be over within the week. Do you have any other rules?" She shook her head. "Good," I said. "How about, as a last rule, we can add rules throughout our... relationship. How's that?" I asked, signing the check when the waitress brought it back over.

"Fine," she said.

I slipped my credit card into my back pocket and stood, offering a hand to help her up. Even though we were technically dating now, I wasn't sure I was quite ready to start holding her hand. So I let go.

The car was as silent on the way home as it was on the way there. But, again, this silence wasn't terribly awkward. Granted, it wasn't easy, but it wasn't horrible. We both were just kind of... there.

And when we got back to her apartment, I wasn't sure how to say goodbye. So I just pulled her to my chest and gave her a hug.

"Thank you," she whispered into my shirt.

"No problem," I said. And as she disappeared into her apartment, I thought back to our little lunch date. Things had changed, that was for sure. Was our fighting over? I highly doubted it. But for now, we had reached a stalemate. Neither of us was going anywhere anytime soon.

I couldn't help but wonder what would become of us. And, I thought as her scent drifted into my nose from where she had imprinted herself onto my shirt, when she would stop smelling so amazing.

A/N: Okay, so recently I've been getting a couple reviews about the lengths of the chapters. I just wanted to make it clear that, although I adore reading long chapters, it isn't that easy. I generally start writing on Monday or Tuesday (because I've got an insanely busy life) and long chapters just aren't possible all the time. So unfortunately, chapters will stay at about 4,000 words unless something big happens in the chapter. I'm sorry, but it's all I have time for. I'm only one person, and as much as I'd love to do a billion things at once, I can't. =/

Hope you liked the chapter—I did. :) But this isn't the end. Not by any means. This is just barely the middle. They can't go and ride off into the sunset if their horse still has three broken legs, you know? Anyway. That's all.

500 reviews will get you a chapter this weekend.

Love you,

cALLIEfornia BENches