Ok, sorry about the wait first off. RL is shit sometimes and I have to deal with it.

I hope this chapter clears some stuff up. If not, eh, feel free to ask me any questions you might have.

This one's for erica…because she wanted more Edward and because she's not afraid of being real. Sah0004, for being there and for putting up with my awkwardness on the phone.

Twilight's not mine. I just own a Demetri who drives a mustang. Err well, I share.

You know those nights when the air is crisp and the darkness is sharp and everything is heavy with something.

When you can feel it in each step, each breath, and the stars are all gleaming in anticipation--this mysterious notion of life just hanging in front of your face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, breathless and scared because he was too close and the stars were white and everything was here and in focus but I was so…

Tired.

And he kind of sighed, his hair standing everywhere and I knew he'd been grabbing at it and all I wanted to know was if I could trust him.

I wondered if he would let me. Because I kind of wanted to.

He leaned closer, our noses almost touching, "You ok?" he whispered and there was something there...

Something I wanted to be true.

His eyes were dark, hooded and veiled in the night and I wanted to see the green in them.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered back, because he was too mysterious for me, my reluctant knight in torn jeans and a worn t-shirt.

He pulled back and his eyes shifted away, uncomfortable. He placed his hand on the center of my back and guided me out of the driveway. "Let's get out of here."

"Aren't you going to answer my question?" I persisted, stubborn and trying to not to trip as I watched him pull out a cigarette and light it, his other hand still burning a hole through my back.

He lit it, the cig shoved to the corner of his mouth. "Aren't you going to answer mine?"

We stopped in front of his car and it was here--that moment of significance, that moment of please-dear-god-give-me-something--right now. "This is what it's come down to, isn't it?"

He stared at me over the roof of his car, his gaze searing and scrutinizing. "Just get in."

It was silent for the first couple of turns it took to get out of Rosalie's neighborhood. I don't think either of us knew exactly how to start. It was like those times when there's so much to say…and really nothing to say at all.

Almost subconsciously, and maybe because I felt so on edge all of a sudden, I pulled up my knees and wrapped my hands around them, resting my head along the smooth fabric of my dress and staring out the window, not caring that it was probably the most unladylike position ever invented.

Edward chuckled quietly. "Rosie always sits so damn straight in my car." He laughed again, almost to himself. "But the second you get in and don't put your seatbelt on, you…" He trailed off, his face twisting with realization and disgust.

I tightened the clasp of my hands, nervous and scared and somewhat frustrated because I just didn't understand. I turned my face to him. "I think it's high time you tell me what's going on between you two. Because all this weird, creepy threesome bullshit is fucking pissing me off."

And then I remembered something. Something important. "Shit."

Edward whipped his head toward me, his stormy eyes concerned as they sought out mine. "What?"

And then I was really, really infuriated. "Do you see what happens when you swoop in and save me when I don't want to be saved? Barging in like you own the damn place and being authoritative and sexy and distracting me and fuck…you're just everywhere, all the time and then the fucking stars," I took a breath, "You just can't do shit like that because I…god…I just don't even know who you are and you're with Rosalie and you kiss me like it's nothing and those kisses kill me and can you just believe that I left my motherfucking truck in front of their damn house?"

By the end of my rant I was breathing hard and steaming. "You have to take me back. I'm not leaving my truck there so that she-devil can sneer and insult and hurt her." My voice broke on that last word and I wish it wouldn't have because I was not weak.

"Hey."

I chewed my lip, turning away because I didn't want to face those too-knowing eyes.

"Look at me."

I couldn't not.

"Breathe."

I inhaled quickly.

"I'm here now."

I exhaled. "Why?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and squinted his eyes at the road. It was quiet for a long time.

The silence tore at me.

Each second was time, time in which I didn't know, in which I couldn't see, in which I was helpless and vulnerable and stretched just too goddamn far.

And my eyes were closing, heavy with the weight of everything hitting too hard, too close, and I just wanted it to be over.

"Let me out." I said finally, "I need you to stop right here. Just stop, please. "

I kept begging him so I could ignore the rip of my insides as they twisted with uncertainty.

Because not knowing…not understanding…took its toll on you.

It made you feel aged.

It made you feel too young and too exhausted and too heavy.

But he didn't take his foot off the accelerator or apologize or take me back to get my truck. Instead, he took a deep breath. "My father and a man by the name of Gerald Hale grew up together, lived down the street from one another, made secret pacts and ambitions and all that other shit that Forks makes you want. They went off to college, the perfect pair, married their high school sweethearts, the top of their class, all of them."

I couldn't move.

He continued, still looking straight ahead, one hand on the wheel. "It had been their dream to come back, to build and make something of this town because they were proud of their power, of their influence here. I think it was just because they missed the praises this sorry place always showered over them. But what the fuck do I know? Their perfect brides were more than happy to succumb to the role of housewives and soon-to-be-mothers, giggling over the future of their children, each promising one to the other, before they could even make it out of their wombs. The fathers smoked cigars over blueprints, plotting and daring life to go against their tailored futures."

His thumb reached over to slide across by bottom lip, reminding me to breathe. "We were always around each other, they never separated us--while our fathers nodded in solemn agreement and our mothers smiled like little girls, giddy with the possibility--we became best friends." The corner of his mouth pulled up in fondness. "Much to the delight of our parents, we started dating the summer after our first year of high school. It was fun--new and exciting and intriguing--and all that other shit people say about first love, young love, teenage love."

He didn't have to explain to whom he was referring.

His hand moved to cover my hand, as it gripped the seat. "She was my whole world, I breathed and she breathed and it was easy for both of us. And I could dream of something with her and that was enough for me."

His jaw sort of locked as he squeezed my hand, his brow furrowed. "Some dickhead said something to her one day, Jesus, I can't even remember his name. She didn't have to say anything for me to know something was wrong." He exhaled harshly. "How ironic to think that before she was always laughing but that day, she wouldn't say a word. When she finally did tell me, when I made her tell me, she started crying and I knew I was going to break that kid's fucking face."

My mouth opened with a crack. "What did he say?" I whispered.

"He said," Edward paused, his Adam's Apple bobbing, "that I was just fucking her because I wanted to impress my dad. When I saw that asswipe again, he got what was coming to him. I got suspended and I felt smug because that kid's nose was definitely broken and Rosie felt bad but she couldn't hide the smile that came to her face when I told her about it. But my dad," he paused again, searching for the words, "lost it."

I squeezed his hand back. His knee reached up to steer as his other hand rummaged for something. When he pulled up another cigarette to his mouth, I tugged it away, my thumb brushing his mouth and he looked at me.

His eyes, haunting and broken, pulled at mine and I didn't know what to say.

"I want to kiss you," he said quietly.

"You're driving." I murmured. "Finish."

I needed this. I'd avoided and covered my ears and acted like an indignant child for long enough.

It was time to grow up.

To face this.

"I saw everything after that. I grew distant even as Rose continued to love me, to make me cookies, to invite me over for dinner. I'd see my dad's eyes and it would make me sick to my stomach. I just finally fucking realized that…"

He stopped.

"What?" I whispered again.

"Being with Rose wasn't something that I wanted." He rolled down the window. "It was something that was given to me, handed down--expected of me--and I believed it to be my only future. Hell, it didn't even matter at that point. I had no choice."

"And Rosalie?"

"Oh she saw too. But it wasn't because of me. I pretended for her. Even when I stopped…I had to. She didn't deserve my shit, and if she was happy then I better be fucking happy right along with her." He dragged his fingers through the tangled mess of his hair. "But she got it on her own. She saw. I don't know how, but she did. And it devastated her. She never said anything, but I knew. And then when she stopped eating…well it was her way. It was how she coped with everything and we both agreed to just pull ourselves together and try to continue whatever it was that we had once had."

He pulled into a parking lot that gave me a sense of déjà vu and shut off the engine.

Still staring straight ahead, his jaw rigid and tight, he continued. "She couldn't do it, though. It hurt her too much to make the effort of acting like we were…" he stumbled for the right words, "happy. I think we both looked at each other with scorn, knowing the other was our cage and being unable to do anything about it. I mean…we love each other in a way that only we could…but we hate each other too."

I bristled at the word loved.

He sensed my tension and finally turned to me, his eyes pleading with mine. "You have to see…that's it's terrible, this whole thing. We are hurting together because we can't ever be separated. And I can't…stand it anymore."

I bit the inside of my cheek hard because… "Why did you kiss me…that first time…if you're in love with Rosalie?"

He bent his head closer, his eyes trapping mine in their determined gaze. "Silly girl, can't you see that I'm in love with you?"

"But you said--" And then his lips, those cold, chapped lips were on mine.

I had gotten my truth.

So I gave in and…let myself be.

My fingers weaved their way into his hair and his hand cupped the back of my neck in a way that was so familiar and intimate, his thumb brushing across my racing pulse, my lips parting slowly because he was air and hope and he was asking me for freedom.

Salvation.

And as he breathed into me, his scent engulfing, his tongue tracing, exploring me as I gave in to him and breathed back, the heat of us mixing and charging as he mumbled my name against my skin over and over.

He kissed down my chin, to my neck. "Rosalie and I have been over for a long time."

"But I thought--" He sucked gently on the skin right below my ear, and I moaned, forgetting what I was even going to say in the first place.

"We never told anyone." He whispered against my shiver, his thumb circling my knee.

"Fuck, Edward this is too fast…unh…wait…there's something I need to know…"

He pulled back quickly, his darkened eyes frustrated and everything and there. "What?"

"Why didn't you care when Rosalie…" I left the question hanging, trying to keep my gaze from his the red of his top lip.

"Are we really talking about this right now?" He rubbed furiously at his eyes.

"I need to know."

"Did she say that?"

I sighed. "Edward, she didn't have to."

He sat back in his seat, staring through the windshield again, his elbow resting on the steering wheel. "Well shit, Bella, it became harder for both of us to live up to something we weren't…I had already accepted that I couldn't make her be okay with any of it and there was nothing I could do to change…hell, she was already gone. I was the her captor anyway, there's just nothing to do. There was nothing left to care about."

I shook my head slowly, "That's not good enough."

He punched the seat, making me jump. "Why does this even matter? I've told you everything. What does this have to do with me and you?"

"It has everything to do with us!" I screamed at him, because it was her that called out to me on that fateful day, crying for someone to understand.

It was those eyes that gave me nightmares and wouldn't let me forget.

I fumbled for the door handle, trying to get out.

I felt his hand grab my arm. "So…where do we stand?" He asked roughly.

I couldn't look at him. "I'm going away to school and you're destined to be with Rosalie and god, Edward, you saw what happened tonight…you'd never be able to outrun them, never mind you fucking psycho father."

His hand flinched and he quickly dropped my arm. I opened the door, turning to look back at him and ignoring the guilt crawling along my spine when I saw his downcast eyes. He wouldn't even look at me, his expression dead and the fire just…gone.

I stumbled out of his car and took in my surroundings. And as I stared at the flickering Open 24 Hours sign and the comforting, smudged windows of my donut shop…I felt stupid.

There were just so many things out there…I didn't know.

I was cold as I stood there, my legs shaking, caught between something I wasn't even sure pulled in opposite directions. There was just a curiously building pressure that didn't give me an instinct, a piece of advice, didn't point me back to truth or virtue or love…it just made me feel so terribly lost.

Disoriented.

Even if home was right there, right there, staring at you in the fucking face.

Because you just never really ever knew.

And that was the beauty of it.

The courage it takes to just fuck it all is so goddamn hard to come by when it's suddenly shoved right in front of you.

When it's too close and too there and you wonder if there was ever a time when you could take a step and not have to think about how you could never ever turn back.

I twisted around slowly, doubting that Edward would still be there.

Everything was blurred and I heard his door open and "I just don't know," I croaked.

And then he was there, wiping my cheeks, his forehead too hot against mine. "Me neither, Bell. Me neither."

I couldn't say anything and "I'm sorry" was all he could whisper, over and over.

Time stopped. Or rather…it didn't stop at all…I just stopped paying attention.

It was then that I realized that maybe this whole thing…this whole idea we have of growing up, of instantaneously having the ability to make the right decisions, of one day finding that everything comes easily, naturally…is just a lie.

Maybe it's okay that I'll spend my entire life searching, uncovering, wondering.

Maybe that's just harder to accept when you're alone and you can hear your footsteps echoing along the walls of an empty house and you're mom tells you to be more than what she left behind. Maybe it just hurts to be called immature when you know you are, when at the same time you know admitting this should mean something.

Or maybe…adulthood is a sham. They tell you to grow up…but the only way to really understand is just to learn as you grow.

And maybe someday you'll find all the pieces that make up…you.

But see, all that shit is meant to be bore alone, because you're the only one who possess the ability to carry it.

But not being alone…that just makes it a little less painful.

A little less awfully confusing.

And right then, with his warmth pushing against me…I no longer felt the freezing air or the bite of the wind.

After an eternity that was over too quickly, after not saying all the things that only silence can say, Edward put his hand around my waist, muttering something along the lines of "it's fucking cold out here" and ushered me inside.

My whole body was still numb--numb with the weight of too much and numb with the weight of him being here--in this place that was mine and his and us.

There was a man behind the counter who nodded his head at Edward.

"The usual?" He asked.

I looked up at Edward in bewilderment. His eyes were already scorching, staring down at mine. "Yeah," he replied, his gaze never wavering.

And it was at that moment that I began to wonder who Edward Cullen really was.

And as the man handed Edward not one, but two coffee cups, I began to wonder what it might be like to truly let myself fall in love with a boy.

I wondered if it was really that simple.

I'm curious…any of you "think-you're-in-love" readers out there?

I will shamelessly raise my hand. Erica…you're already familiar with my obsessive crush.

But please readers…do tell.

Also, I updated my profile. It's pretty damn epic.