Chapter Twenty-four: Practice Makes Perfect

The last football game of the school year is going to take place in a little over two weeks, the day after prom. According to Edward the game is always a huge event, even bigger than their regular games (which have been known to draw in crowds of alumni from as far as Seattle). That's why I've never bothered to go before: too many people in one area, sweaty bodies smashed together, people screaming so loudly that you'd swear other people can hear them from miles away. I was never a fan of big crowds, and I was never a fan of football.

"There's gonna be scouts there," Edward tells me now as we sit at his kitchen table. I look out the window and see Jasper and Emmett still practising, and wonder if I should leave to let Edward keep practising, too. But Edward seems more interested in holding Grace in his arms as she sleeps, and she looks tiny and so peaceful and I don't want to disturb her. He doesn't even glance out the window. "I mean, I still have another year left of high school so I'll have to keep my grades way up if they offer me anything. But the potential is there for some really great opportunities."

This makes me think back to what Edward had said that day on the walking trail, something about wondering if we're supposed to follow each other around for the rest of our lives. I feel the panic rising in my throat when I think about Edward leaving for college – Grace will be over a year old and definitely have formed a bond with Edward and it would hurt her to not see him. Especially if he was on the other side of the country at Duke, his first choice of universities.

Breathe, I say to myself. One day at a time.

Changing the subject, I say, "Are you going to prom?" It's the first thing that comes to my mind and I'm just desperate to change the subject to stop myself from having a panic attack. Prom is the first thing I think of.

Edward shrugs. " I guess so. I mean, yeah, I am. Captain of the football team, remember?" He uses his free hand to point at himself and laughs. "Gotta be there to claim the title of Prom King. Looks good on an application, ya know?"

I shutter again at the thought of college. Jeez, I thought I had changed the subject.

"Prom King," I say, shifting around in the chair. "Must be nice."

"Maybe," he tells me, "if the Prom Queen wasn't such a horrendous bitch."

I know right away who he is talking about: Darcy Queen. The thought of her voice sends shivers down my spine the same way nails on a chalkboard would.

Edward must be able to tell what I think of her by the look on my face, because he asks, "Not a fan?"

I shake my head. "Definitely not a fan. And she definitely isn't a fan of me, either." He gives me a confused look and I continue with, "She saw me talking to you one day in the hallway at school when I was pregnant, then came up to me and told me to stay away from you. That you'd never be interested in a girl like me. And that's not even the worst of it..." I shake my head, hopefully signalling to Edward that I don't want to say any more. I look down at my legs, not wanting him to see me blush. I mean, she was right. What would Edward Cullen want with me? We're only sitting face to face right now because of our daughter, who was conceived by accident when both of our guards were down. If we had been sober that night we wouldn't have given each other a second glance.

He scoffs then laughs. "More like I would never be interested in a girl like her. It's such a cliche. She wants to be with me cause, ya know, captain of the football team and captain of the cheer-leading team. It's her All American Dream."

"What about your dream?"

"I still haven't figured that one out yet." His eyes looks sad as he looks down at Grace. "But I can promise you it doesn't involve a blonde."

Edward reaches out suddenly and pushes a stray curl behind my shoulder. I'm suddenly all too aware of my brunette hair and wonder if he means something more. Probably not.

"You've still got plenty of time to figure it out," I manage to whisper as I lean forward and place a hand on his knee.

My fingers buzz.

I mean it as a friendly gesture, a way to comfort him... but then he looks up, his green eyes looking straight into my brown ones, and I swear my heart skips a couple beats. Who is this person sitting in front of me? It can't be Edward. At least, not the old one; he's gone. This one is much softer than he. For a fleeting moment I wonder how this guy in front of me could possibly be the same one who haunted me, but then I remember he did it out of fear.; did it for Grace, thinking it was best she have a life without him in it. He thought if he pushed me away then I wouldn't let Grace anywhere near him. He loved her even when he said he didn't and it was because he didn't want to hurt her. I should have known the day I caught him crying in his room, holding the ultrasound picture I had maliciously shoved into his locker. His past had ruined him, and he was trying to pick up the pieces.

"Did I tell you how great I think you look today?" Edward asks suddenly, making me jump a little. I was lost in my own thoughts for a moment, but his comment quickly makes me forget. "And there's something different about your eyes..."

I look down at my outfit and then smack my lips together, feeling the gloss I had applied earlier make my lips glide smoothly. I'm blushing again, I know it. Damn. Hopefully the blush and concealer I put on this morning can conceal how red I know my face is underneath.

"Um, thanks," I say with a nervous laugh. "It's just mascara."

"Well, I like it," Edward says. "You really are beautiful, Bella. I meant it the other day I said any guy would be lucky to have you."

"No dating for me right now," I tell him. "Grace first, everything and everyone else last."

He chuckles. "We're on the same page there."

"Finally," I say. I mean it as a joke, but Edward doesn't take it like that.

I watch as his face drops, and I instantly feel regret. But then he nods slowly.

"Finally," Edward agrees. "It took me long enough, hey?" His words come out soft. I can tell he's upset at himself for the past - I shouldn't punish him any more than he's already punishing himself. I'm sure the internal battle he's waging with himself is worse than any fight or disagreement we've had or will ever have.

I hope.

"I should probably get back to practise...We've got another practise with the team on the field tonight, and coach is going to want us to do the best we can," Edward says, his eyes darting back and forth from his brothers outside to his daughter in his arms. I can tell he doesn't want to but has to. After all, the big game is going to be here before we know it and I know Edward wants to be the best he can be. "I don't want you to go, though," he adds.

I look at the clock. It's afternoon now, the sun blazing overhead. It's warmer than it was this morning.

"Then we won't," I say, standing up and taking Grace from him. He stands, too. "We'll stay, watch you practise. Grace can be your new cheerleader."

I pick up her little arm and make her punch the air a couple times, making a little "whoop whoop" sound. She sleeps right through it and Edward chuckles. "I'll have to get her a uniform."

We both laugh at the thought of Grace in a cheer-leading outfit, although I don't doubt for one second that it would be cute.

Edward goes upstairs and changes into a fresh set of clothes for practise. He must have sprayed some his cologne because as he passes me - giving me a smile and kissing the top of Grace's head as he does- I can smell the scent I've come to realize I love.

When Edward goes back outside, I change Grace quickly and wrap her snugly in a nice warm blanket. I heat her bottle then head out back to sit on the lawn furniture. There's a ground-level patio that opens into the backyard, and on it is a swing and a patio set. I sit on the swing, situate Grace in my arms with her bottle, and watch the boys play.

Edward, Emmett and Jasper are practising in full force, all of them running up and down the length of their backyard at full speed. I wonder why Jasper isn't on the team; he's fast, can throw and catch the ball with ease, and is just tiny enough to dip through Edward and Emmett's arms when they storm towards him.

I don't know much about football, except for a touchdown (I mean, who doesn't know what a touchdown is?), but I can tell they're good at what they're doing just by the fluidity of their movements. Edward's a good leader; he gives Emmett a few pointers here and there, and pats him on the back or gives him a high-five when he does a move well.

By the time they're done, all three of them are dripping in sweat. Emmett and Jasper race past me, trying to beat one another to the shower, laughing as they go.

When I look over I see Edward take off his shirt. My breath hitches in my throat a little when I see his bare chest; there is absolutely no denying that Edward is gorgeous: chiselled abs, his hair gorgeous even when it's dripping wet, so tall that he seems like a giant compared to me.

He jogs over to the side of the house and uses the hose to rinse his hair and body. Then, he comes and sits next to myself and Grace.

"Sorry I'm all wet," he says to me, reaching across and grabbing the towel he placed on the arm of the swing before he started practise. He uses it to dry his hair and body. "Practise makes perfect."

"You guys are great," I tell him honestly. "You're gonna kill it at the game."

"You're going, right?" he asks, looking at me. He flicks the towel over his shoulder and gestures for me to hand him Grace, which I do. She snuggles into his bare chest, liking the warmth. He gently pats her butt with his hand.

I shake my head. "I don't think so, no. I've never been and I don't think I'd enjoy it much. No offence."

"None taken," he says with a wave of his hand. "But I'd really like if you and Grace could come. Like you said, she's my new cheerleader. It would...it would mean a lot to me. My whole future is riding on this game. But you don't owe me any favours, not after how I treated you...so I'd understand if you don't go."

I think about it. I know Angela, Eric and Mike are going to be there; they haven't missed a game yet. They've always begged me to go with them and I've always declined, much to their chagrin, but maybe it would be fun to go this one time?

"Okay," I say after a moment. "We'll go."

Edward's eyes light up. "Really? Promise?"

I smile and nod at him. "Promise."

Edward and I decide to keep things inconspicuous. It's not that he doesn't want everyone to know that he's Grace's dad, he just doesn't want the drama that's sure to follow, especially with the big game coming up. His head needs to be in the game one hundred percent; he cannot be distracted. I can understand this because the day that people find out Edward is the one who knocked me up is definitely going to be a crazy one. I can almost see the look on Darcy's face now. And I'm almost looking forward to it.

AS YOU WISH

"They're both getting so big," Jake huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and throwing himself back on the couch.

It's Sunday now, and I'm spending some time with Jake.

I look at Riley and Grace, both laying on a blanket on the floor of Jacob's dads living room as we sit on the couch and watch them. Riley is somewhat mobile now at 7 months old, although she's not quite crawling yet, she can roll and squirm to get where she wants to go and it's only a matter of time before she's mobile. Grace, only a month old, still has that newborn baby look but her eyes are brighter and her expressions a little more reactive. She looks around the room, taking everything in, and my heart swells.

"Before you know it we'll be sending them off to kindergarten," I say.

Jake slaps my arm playfully. "Don't even say that, Bella. I can't even think about letting her go off on her own yet."

I continue to tease with, "And then before we know it, they'll be off to high school. Getting cars and going to prom."

"Bella," Jacob says, putting his hand over his heart, mouth open in mock horror. I can't help but laugh. "Stop. I can't even think about that right now."

"Speaking of prom, are you going?" I ask as I reach for the end table to grab the remote to turn the volume of the TV down.

Jake shakes his head. "Nah, I don't think so. Besides, no one asked me."

I get an idea. "Come with me," I tell him. "We'll go as friends. It would be much more tolerable for me if you were there, and it might be fun. I'd much rather dance with you than Mike Newton."

"Might," Jake reiterates. "But, okay, I guess. We could both use a little fun."

"I guess this means I'll have to call Angela to take me dress shopping," I say with a groan.

Yes, I want to go to prom. No, I don't want to go shopping for a dress. You win some, you lose some. But I haven't really had the chance to hang out with Angela since Grace has been born, except for the one day a week she drops off my homework, but that visit is usually short lived. Between the incident with Jake and Mel that made me practically catatonic for a week, and all the time I've spent with Edward and Jake, it's been near impossible to find time for myself, let alone my friends. I feel guilty, so I'm looking forward to hopefully spending some time with her. I hope she'll forgive me - no doubt she's upset.

"And I'll need a tux rental," Jake says. "Dad's gonna love it. He tried to get me to wear a suit to my grandmothers funeral but I wasn't having any part of it."

"I'm sure you'll look dashing," I say with a giggle.

We hang out for a while longer, watching TV and chatting. When Billy and Sarah get home from a late lunch out, I tell Jacob goodbye, pack up Grace and her things and leave.

AS YOU WISH

"I really like this one!"

When I look, I see Angela holding a bright orange number that is much too short to actually be considered a prom dress, and so neon I can feel my retinas burning just by looking at it. It's tight and looks like it will hit just below my butt. Definitely not what I'm looking for. After all the attention from Grace and the incident, I just want to blend in with the crowd.

"Angela, I'm looking for classy, not trashy," I tell her. "This is prom, not a burlesque show. And it's neon." I throw her a smile and nudge her arm so she knows I'm joking.

She pouts, but puts the dress back and keeps looking through the racks of formal wear. I continue to thumb through the dresses, nothing really jumping out at me. Maybe we'll have to come back on the weekend.

Angela was all too happy to come shopping with me when I called and asked once I got back from Jacob's house on Sunday. She didn't even say anything to me about being a shitty friend the last month; I guess she knew I was going through a rough time and wanted my space, and it just reiterated to me what a good person she is. We made the plans for today, Tuesday, because school wasn't in session (some kind of conference for the teachers). We drove to Port Angeles with mostly Angela talking; apparently a lot has happened in school in the month I've been gone (a fired teacher, a new student from California, one of the football players was caught cheating on his girlfriend in the bathroom) and she wouldn't shut up about it all. I'm just glad I'm no longer the talk of the school. What a relief.

When we got to Sabrina's, the little formal wear boutique on the downtown strip, I was surprised to find it completely empty except for the clerk, a short girl with glasses studying a book behind the counter. She greeted us with a smile and gestured to the several racks of dresses specifically put out for this prom season. We wasted no time getting to it; I wanted this shopping over with as soon as possible.

"What about this one?" Angela asks now, holding up a strapless royal blue ball gown with a rhinestone bodice. I scrunch my nose and she huffs. "Are you going to like any of these?" she asks with an annoyed edge to her voice. "Really, Bella, we've been here for an hour and you haven't even tried anything on."

"I'm sorry," I say to her as I pick a dress off the rack and hold it up. Angela's face looks hopeful for a moment before I put it back on the rack. "I just want the right dress, ya know?"

"Oh, I know. That's why I went dress shopping months ago." She holds up another dress, this one tea length and yellow, and I shake my head. I swear I see her roll her eyes before she puts it back.

"I was a whale months ago," I remind her and we both laugh.

We continue to look through the dresses. There's long puffy dresses, short straight ones, long A-line with jewels, but nothing is catching my eye. I can tell Angela is getting more and more annoyed with how picky I'm being because she's no longer giving me suggestions, instead just standing by me as I look. I'm just about to call it quits when a colour pops out at me: burgundy. I pick it up, holding it in front of Angela.

Her eyes widen. "Bella, it's beautiful."

It is. I rush to the dressing room to try it on, finally excited that I found one to consider. It's a burgundy spaghetti strap floor-length gown made of silk (with no puff or tull, thank God). The deep V-neck is just deep enough to still be comfortable, and there's a slit that runs all the way to the top of my thigh. There's no jewels or bling; like I said, I wanted to blend not stand out.

I admire myself in the mirror for a moment before stepping out to show Angela.

"Oh. My. God," Angela says slowly, her mouth hanging open. "Bella, that's the one."

I point at her. "You're just saying that because you want to get out of here."

"If that was the case, I would have made you try one on long ago and said it was nice. This, Bella, is exquisite."

I look in the mirror again, wishing I had done my makeup so I could see the full effect, and spin once. The dress hugs me in all the right places, accentuating the curves I love and hiding the ones I don't, and the slit allows a subtle sexy touch by exposing my leg. The V-neck hits right in the centre of my chest and makes my breasts look great.

"You're getting that one." Angela didn't ask a question – she told me. "Absolutely."

I take a moment to look at her and smile before staring at myself in the mirror again. I'm not one for dresses much, but if I had to wear a dress for the rest of my life I would definitely pick this one.

"Yeah," I say, doing a final spin. "I am."

We go to the cash to get rang up. The dress costs four hundred dollars and taxes, and I feel guilty as I slide Renee's card through the machine, even though she insisted on paying for it. The short girl with glasses puts the gown into a dress-bag and hands me the receipt with a smile.

I'm about to thank her when the bell above the door chimes and makes me jump. The quiet shop is filled with a voice I was hoping I could just forget.

"Oh, my God! Look at all these dresses!"

I turn in time to see Darcy and Edward walk into the shop, hand in hand.

A/N: Here is chapter twenty-four! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know in the reviews! Also... is there anything anyone would like clarified? Or a part of the story you would like more information on? Please let me know. I want to make this story the best and most satisfying it can be.