A Rough Start

Chapter 26 – Leave Me Alone

Edward's leg pumped up and down repetitively as his eyes darted around the serenely decorated room. Anthony was standing against the opposite wall, his nose nearly plastered to a large dome-shaped fish tank filled with exotic marine life.

"You don't think we should put this off 'til after Christmas?" Edward whispered to Bella. "Anthony seems to be doing okay now," though Edward neglected to tell Bella that Anthony had had an accident only the night before. He wasn't completely convinced that it had anything to do with his emotions. He'd let him have a cup of water before bedtime.

Regardless, Bella didn't engage his line of reasoning. She simply patted his leg to still his movement and smiled over at Anthony.

"He loves the fish tank. Maybe you should get him one. They're pretty low maintenance," she said.

Edward openly scoffed. "Another mouth to feed," he muttered. Bella grimaced at him but didn't say a word.

As the time passed, Edward felt a constricting sensation in his chest, and he struggled to get comfortable in the chair that seemed both too big and too small, too firm, yet too soft.

"I'm gonna go out and get some air," Edward said, suddenly longing for his long-abandoned habit of smoking.

"That's probably a good idea," Bella said. It was the only indication she gave that she had noticed that Edward was coming apart at the seams. "But Edward…"

Edward waited until his hand was on the door before he turned to see what she was going to say.

"…stay close, okay? I'll come get you when they call Anthony," she offered.

Edward shrugged. "Yeah, I won't be gone that long. I just need a little air." Yet despite his words, he was still out on the second-floor veranda when Bella poked her head out the door.

"They're ready for him," she whispered.

With a gruff sigh, Edward pushed off the wall he was leaning on and followed Bella back inside. She gave him a supportive smile as she settled back in the chair with a magazine while Edward took Anthony by the hand and walked him up to a tall woman with long spiral-curled brown hair.

"Hello, Anthony," the woman said as she bent down so that she was eye-level with Anthony. "My name is Leisel and I'm so glad to meet you. I've read a lot of wonderful things about you. I understand that your favorite color is blue." She paused for Anthony to nod in agreement. "Guess what? That's my favorite color, too."

Anthony grinned. "You have hair like Miss Bella," he said.

"Oh really?" Leisel smiled, though her eyes momentarily darted over to Edward. "Miss Bella? Is that your babysitter?"

Anthony nodded. "And my teacher," Anthony said as he pointed over to where Bella was seated.

"Oh…I hadn't realized you brought his teacher along." Leisel's eyes were imploring as she sought an explanation from Edward.

"Yeah…it's…there's more to it than that…" and though it was clear that Leisel thought he was going to say more, Edward offered nothing else.

After an awkward show of who-was-opening-the-door-for-whom, Edward followed Leisel as she led Anthony through the door, down a hall and into a large office off to the right. There was a large train table in the corner and Anthony was drawn to it immediately.

"Since we're seeing one another on such short notice, we haven't had the opportunity to follow my usual protocol," Leisel began in a voice low enough that Anthony wouldn't overhear every word. "Usually, you and I would meet first, in a consultation. Considering how you felt after that, I'd meet with both you and Anthony, simply so that he can see us converse and feel safe in the environment, and then he and I would begin to meet one-on-one; but since the school expressed a concern with his recent reaction to trauma…" Leisel stopped short when Edward became visibly disturbed at her use of the word 'trauma'. "Is there a problem, Mr. Cullen?"

"He didn't like a project. I hardly think trauma is the right word," Edward sighed.

"I was referring to the loss of his mother and grandparents – his primary caretakers," Leisel clarified.

"He didn't lose his grandfather. He's still living," Edward corrected. His tone was short.

"So Anthony still gets to see him, then?" Leisel sat back in her chair, as if she was pleased with this discovery.

"Well…no."

"Then, to a five-year-old boy, it is still a loss, Mr. Cullen."

"Hrrmph," was Edward's only response, before looking over at Anthony. He could feel the therapist's eyes on him, but he was already tired of her.

"So, Mr. Cullen, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a little chat with Anthony, but I'd like you to stay in the room. Maybe sit at that table over there?" Leisel pointed. While still courteous, her voice had lost its friendly lilt.

"If he wants to talk to you, that's fine," Edward said as he began to stand up. "But I'm not going to make him."

"Of course not," Leisel agreed.

Edward was hoping that Anthony would be resistant to the idea of speaking to a stranger, then he and his son could get the hell out of there. However, much to his chagrin, Anthony didn't seem to mind when Leisel beckoned him over to a small table that housed a mountain of building blocks.

"Sure…bribe him with toys…" Edward muttered under his own breath. If Leisel heard any disturbance, she gave no indication of such.

Though it was clear that Leisel was directing her questions and attention to Anthony, Edward leaned forward on his knees and did his best to hear every word that was passed between the two. He rolled his eyes in boredom as Leisel asked Anthony to draw a picture of a house. When Anthony complied, she asked him if he'd drawn his house, and when he nodded, she asked him if it was the house that he lived in now.

Edward thought it was the stupidest line of questioning he'd ever heard. If Anthony drew his house, of course it was the house he currently lived in! Did she think his son was dumb or something? Where did this woman go to school?

But Anthony defied his father's logic, for he shook his head no…

"Is this the house you used to live in?" Leisel pressed.

Anthony nodded. "My grandma and grandpa's house."

"Wow. You have a lot of detail here," Leisel didn't even have to pretend to be impressed. "Is this your bedroom window?" she pointed.

"No, that's in the living room," Anthony laughed as if she should have known.

"And what's this?"

"That's a ramp for Grandpa's wheelie chair."

"Do you miss this house, Anthony?"

Again, Anthony gestured in the affirmative.

"Would you like to draw some people for this house?"

Anthony reached for a crayon and then withdrew his hand. He shook his head. "Nobody lives there now."

"Where is everyone?"

Edward objected to the way Leisel asked, as if she didn't know. These therapists were so dishonest.

"Grandma's in heaven with Mommy." Anthony sighed.

"And Grandpa?"

Anthony shrugged.

"He's in a home in Oregon," Edward piped up from where he sat. Leisel nodded, but then pointed to Anthony, her expression indicating that she wanted to hear from him, not Edward.

"Anthony, would it be alright with you if your dad waited in the lobby with your teacher and you and I had a little talk?"

"About what?" Anthony frowned.

"We can talk about whatever you want to talk about. We can talk about school or your favorite cartoon, or what you want for Christmas-"

"A train! I want a train for Christmas; one that goes all by itself. And then I want a Bumblebee robot. Taylor is getting Optimus Prime and if I get Bumblebee then we can have a team."

Leisel nodded throughout the disclosure. "So, it's okay if your dad waits outside while we talk?" Before Anthony could complete bobbing his head, they were interrupted.

"Wait," Edward objected, "I was told that I didn't have to do that. I don't want him to think he has to talk if he doesn't want to."

"That's right, you don't have to. But if you're worried about what Anthony wants, he just indicated that he is okay with that. Sometimes children feel freer to discuss subjects when they aren't worried about how their words will be interpreted."

Edward stared at Leisel in dogmatic silence. Who did she think she was, implying that Anthony would worry about how Edward was going to interpret his words, when in truth, it was Leisel that he should be leery of!

"Buddy, do you want me to stay?" Edward asked Anthony.

"No, that's okay," Anthony answered.

Edward hated the betrayed defeat that he felt and refused to look at Leisel for the smug response that he knew was there. "Okay, well…I'm just going to be on the other side of the door. And you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to, okay?"

"Okay." The expression on Anthony's face revealed that he was unaware of the silent war that his father was waging with the woman who was hoping to be called his therapist.

And just like that, Edward was a sullen sixteen-year-old boy, slumped down in the corner of a musty room with pale-green walls and wire-wrapped windows.

"Edward, I understand that circumstances beyond your control placed you here, but that doesn't mean you have no control over how you allow this situation to shape you. You can rise from this, Edward, and I can help you, if you'll let me."

Angry eyes shifted away from the young woman offering a symbolic hand. A chest covered by crisscrossed arms and a mouth that offered no response completed the role of a jaded young boy who had heard it all before.

And the young therapist, eager to put her recently earned degree to good use, struggled at the rejection of her olive branch. Before long, her eyes matched those of the youth before her: empty, dull…hopeless.

The memory was fresh in his mind as Edward stalked out of the room. He didn't utter another word until he all but threw himself in the chair next to Bella.

"This is bullshit," he said.

Bella looked immediately worried. "Why? What happened? Where's Anthony?"

"She wanted to talk to him without me. What kind of shit is that? What is she saying to him that she doesn't want me to hear?"

"I think the point is to allow him to say things he may need to say, but won't because he doesn't want you to hear," Bella explained.

Even though, on a cognitive level, Edward knew that Bella wasn't siding against him, that's exactly how it felt. And so, for the remainder of Anthony's absence, Edward silently brooded in his chair. After a few failed attempts to start a conversation, Bella left him alone.

The half an hour it took before Leisel guided Anthony back over to Edward and Bella felt like a lifetime.

"Mr. Cullen, may I have a moment of your time?" Leisel asked in a professional tone. Edward followed after her without any fanfare. He had a few things he wanted to say to her, himself.

"That is one sweet little boy you've got there," she said as she shut the door and encased herself and Edward into a false sense of privacy. There was a glass wall behind Leisel that allowed a panel of administrative assistants to view Edward's every move.

"Yeah," was his only reply.

"He's very articulate, too."

"Mmhm." Edward's gaze was curt and uninviting. Leisel got the message loud and clear.

"Mr. Cullen, you obviously have some reservations about bringing Anthony here today, so I want to start out by commending you for doing so. A lot of times, parents will notice their children's cries for help but neglect to do anything about it. I'm glad you didn't ignore Anthony's."

Edward detected a set-up, and so he didn't respond. He didn't nod, he didn't blink; he didn't move. He wasn't going to indicate that something was wrong with Anthony, anymore than the school had already disclosed.

And the school was exactly the entity that had provided Leisel with most of the ammunition she was using to build a case for her services in Anthony's regard.

"You mentioned Anthony's teacher. Did you bring her along in a professional regard, because if you'd like me to speak with her-"

"No."

"No?"

"No. Bella and I are friends. I mean…I'll tell her what you say. You don't have to."

"Okay, but as his teacher, there are a few things that she should probably know."

"She doesn't have a problem with Anthony. He loves her."

"Yes, I gathered that from our conversation. He feels very safe with her. That's good."

Edward looked over to find Leisel's penetrating gaze on him. "May I speak freely, Mr. Cullen?"

Edward shrugged, not really giving permission, but resigning himself to the idea.

"I think Anthony will get through this unscathed as long as the necessary precautions are taken. He's showing great strength for a person who has experienced such a feat at such a young age. He seems to regard you highly and, I suspect, up until this point, has been enamored with the process of getting to know you. But as he adopts this new routine, the void left by his mother's passing is going to become more prominent. On a positive note, it signifies that Anthony is living and not merely surviving. He's paying attention to what's around him, digging in and partaking. Unfortunately, that's going to serve as a constant reminder of what he's lost.

"For instance, when I asked him about the Christmas project at school, he became upset when he had to admit how it made him feel- that everyone else had pictures except for him."

"We don't have pictures," Edward said as he cleared his throat.

"That's not uncommon," Leisel said quickly. "And in Anthony's situation, this won't be the last time that something like this occurs. But it doesn't have to be so dire. I can give you a few tools that can help you."

"Like what?"

"Well, one of the first things I'd suggest is partnering with the school to decrease the amount of projects or assignments that come his way that require Anthony to revisit his loss. While it's not a bad thing to face this issue, there is a time and a place, and school isn't always the best venue," she said. "Stay in constant communication with the school to know ahead of time what they're planning so that you can better prepare Anthony for what to expect. The better prepared he is, the less likely he is to have an emotional outburst."

Most of the conversation went that way. Edward said little, and Leisel compensated by providing Edward with the information she thought he should have, whether he wanted it or not.

He signed an agreement that would allow her to share her observation with the school and then purposely neglected to committ to whether or not he would bring Anthony back for another visit. The only thing Edward had succeeded in making abundantly clear as he crossed the lobby back toward Bella and Anthony was that he didn't like therapists. Not one bit.

"Do you want me to drive?" Bella offered as the three made their way toward the parking lot.

"I can drive," Edward grumped. "Unless you think there's something wrong with the way I drive."

"Nope, just offering," Bella said lightly. She held Anthony's hand tightly as they walked their path, laughing and commenting on his little boy antics.

The ride back to Edward's house was uncharacteristically silent. After Anthony had gotten bored from counting houses with Christmas lights, he settled down and drifted off to sleep. Bella occupied herself with the view outside the car window. Although Edward was surprised that she wasn't peppering him with questions about what the therapist said, he was grateful for her lack of loquaciousness. Secretly, Edward was harboring resentment at the fact that Bella had driven her truck over to his house to accompany the Cullens to Anthony's first appointment. It meant that he wouldn't be able to drop her off at her place, make up some random reason of why he couldn't stick around and then jet off to wallow in his bitterness and contempt. Instead, he'd have to bring her back to his place, she'd linger, and Edward would have to put forth the effort of hiding his bad temper – a characteristic that he was very bad at hiding.

Just as he'd dreaded, Bella followed Edward and a barely awake Anthony into the house and put down her purse. She was planning to stay awhile.

Anthony announced his appetite as Edward stalked up the stairs. He could hear Bella opening and shutting cabinet doors and whatever she offered Anthony resulted in a rousing acceptance. Edward felt like a monumental jerk for holing himself up in his room and leaving Bella to tend to his son's needs.

But he knew himself, and he knew the alternative. If he stayed down there, he'd only say something he'd regret, they'd argue, which he'd regret more, and then he would have to hope and pray that Bella didn't get sick of his shit and give him his walking papers.

So for now, being an inmate of his own making was the least of his concerns.

Edward laid on his bed and stared up at the ceiling as if it housed the answers to questions he couldn't quite formulate. Time seemed to float around him, indistinctly. He heard more clanks of kitchenware, water running in the bathroom, splashes against the tub tile, giggles in the bedroom down the hall, a tiny voice requesting the illumination of the hall light and then nothing.

After awhile, his bedroom door creaked open and Bella crept over to his bed and laid down beside him. She still said nothing, but looked up at the ceiling as if she was joining in on a movie that was showing there, already in progress.

In that moment, Edward realized what Bella was doing. He didn't know exactly when he'd begun to figure out her character traits, but he knew that she was waiting him out; letting him know that she was there for him without being pushy or demanding. He wanted to thank her for being there and apologize for not being able to adequately display his gratitude, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was:

"What the hell kind of name is Leisel? It sounds like some kind of skin disorder."

Bella's only reaction was to snuggle up closer to him. She leaned her head down and kissed his shoulder. Instead of wrap his arm tight around her, Edward continued his tirade.

"She tried that reverse psychology bullshit on me, too. Like I'm some idiot," Edward all but spat. "I know you don't like being here, but I commend you for putting Anthony first," he mimicked.

Bella rubbed her hand up and down his arm slowly. She said nothing. Edward went on.

"I mean, she acted like there was something wrong with Anthony. Like he was screwed up or something. And I had to sit there and act like those were just simple questions he was answering. He was fucking laughing and smiling at her, all the while having no clue that she was just hunting for words that she could use against him. I mean…I should have stopped that shit, right?"

"She said something was wrong with Anthony?" Bella sat up momentarily.

"Well…she implied it. Asking him all that bullshit about what his yard used to look like and crap. What the hell kind of shit is that? What a waste of time. I mean, if she wanted to help Anthony, she'd make sure he didn't feel like any of this shit was his fault. She'd tell that principal to go fuck himself instead of supporting that cock-sucking school for making a little boy feel bad because he doesn't have a fuckin' shitload of family pictures." Edward's emotions began to bubble over and his voice cracked on the last syllable. He brought his arm up to rest over his eyes and he sighed in defeat. "I do not want to go through this shit again…" he mumbled.

Edward didn't say anything else. He figured that Bella would grill him about the statement he'd just made, and so his mind was muddled with the words he might use to satisfy her queries.

But she asked nothing. Her mouth, instead of vocalize words, was being used to connect with him physically. She kissed his bicep. Then his elbow. His chest. The little sliver of skin exposed on his belly due to his raised arm. His bellybutton.

And while her lips paid homage to his skin, Bella's hand slowly stroked his thigh. Up…down…up…down…

When her hand slipped inward toward his groin, Edward tensed, but said nothing. His body was attentively warming underneath the path of her hand, but his mind was rigid at the idea of what was to come. Surely he was misunderstanding this gesture. Any minute now, Bella would kiss him succinctly, sit back and then ask him to tell her everything that happened. Any minute now she would find her voice and agree with him that Leisel was a low-rate phony who should be banned from practice immediately. They would both agree that therapy was the last place Anthony needed to be and she would support him in terminating any further clinical relationships.

Edward had almost convinced himself that that was what was coming.

So he was completely unprepared when her fingers unsnapped the button-clasp on his jeans.

Internally he warred within himself to both ask her what she was doing and remain silent lest she stop. But that silent battle was a short one, because Bella moved faster than the speed of his thoughts. In one fluid motion, he filled her mouth.

What her lips couldn't take in, her hands compensated for. Relentlessly, demandingly, Bella's tongue tugged and coaxed Edward a climax.

But for some reason unbeknownst to him, he fought against it. While his body basked in the pleasure of the activity, something in his mind fought to allow him to freely give in to it. He sat on the precipice of nirvana, as if a promising touch only continued to pass a shadow over his skin. He ached to experience what he was already experiencing; struggling to simultaneously focus on his basest desire and a haze of a distraction that sat on his periphery, preventing him from giving in.

Yet Bella moved blindly outside of Edward's dilemma. Fingers cupped, grazed and stroked where he desired that attention. Teeth nipped, lips sucked forcefully, vocal chords revealed delighted service; a tongue lavished.

"Mmphh…" the warmth was beginning to spread. The air sprouted legs and feet and danced over Edward's abdomen, his calves, his perineum, his toes…

Suddenly, his body shivered in victory as his mind gave way to the euphoria created by Bella's oral manipulation.

"Fuu-shhiittt…" Edward moaned as Bella slid him towards the back of her throat. His fingers found purchase along her collar, and up into the baby-fine hair that dwelled at the nape of her neck. He caressed her locks as her tongue swirled against him from his shaft to his tip and back again. His body seized once before being momentarily paralyzed by the nirvana of his orgasm.

"Damn, woman," Edward panted out his appreciation as he resituated his clothing.

Bella sat up slowly, pausing as she swallowed the evidence of her actions. "Well…I do happen to work at that cock-sucking school. One would think I'd pick up a thing or two…" There was a light and playful air to her words, but Edward couldn't help but think there was a layer of hurt beneath them. As he watched her disappear into the small bathroom, his thoughts were ablaze with a component that had been evading him all afternoon: clarity.

"Hey," Edward reached up and softly touched Bella's arm when he rejoined her on the bed. "Was I a prick today?"

Bella smirked. "Well…not all day."

"Really?" Edward frowned as he thought back over the words he'd used during the course of the evening. "I just hate shrinks. They prey on the weak, and they never fuckin' help anyone."

"I wouldn't say that," Bella frowned.

"Well they didn't help me."

"They helped me," Bella admitted. "Well…one did, anyway."

Edward looked surprised. "You had to see a shrink?"

"I didn't have to," Bella shrugged. "But my family and my close friends suggested it and because I trusted them, I went. It ended up being one of the best decisions I ever made."

"Did it help you?"

Bella nodded. "It still helps me. Not a day goes by where I don't use something I learned in those sessions."

"How long did you go?"

"A few months. Not long."

The longer it took for Bella to offer the reason she went to therapy, the more uncomfortable Edward became about asking. Finally, after a few minutes when she didn't offer the source of her therapy's motivation, Edward gave in and asked.

"So what happened? Why'd everyone want you to go to therapy?"

"Well," Bella seemed to consider her words for the most simple explanation, "I don't fail well."

Edward snorted. "Who does?"

"Actually, most people do it better than you'd think. Like, if you went for a job and you didn't get it, what would you do?"

"I'd look for another job," Edward answered with an elementary flair.

"Yeah. That's probably what ninety percent of the population would do. People don't usually feel beaten down about things until it happens a few times, and then only when it's in succession." Bella flipped her hair over her shoulder. "But not me. I literally took things like that so personally that I couldn't function.

"I used to create these random goals for myself and my self-worth was wrapped up in whether I attained them or not. The older I got, the bigger the goals became, and the bigger the repercussions for not attaining them." Bella took a deep breath and continued. "When I was a senior in high school, I volunteered with a non-profit organization that worked to educate third-world countries about the benefits of investing in their youth. I got really involved with the program, and even wrote a grant that resulted in funding for an orphanage to be built in Nicaragua. Well, it just seemed like the natural evolution was for me to go to this orphanage and teach English and health classes. So, I put all my eggs in one basket, so to speak. I never even considered that I wouldn't be selected to go, and when I wasn't, I didn't even know how to handle it. I almost flunked out of my second year of college because of it. I was paralyzed by a fear of failure to the point of not even wanting to try. That's when my parents and my friends said I should go to therapy. And truthfully, the only reason I went, initially, was because I thought the therapist was going to side with me and tell me I should have gotten picked to represent the non-profit in Nicaragua – that I was the best person for the job. But she did so much more than that. I had my eyes opened to the immense amount of pressure I put on myself – and for no relevant reason."

"So you don't do that anymore?" Edward asked.

"Oh, I still do it," Bella readily admitted, "but now I recognize what I'm doing, and I have tools to use that help me see things in a proper perspective. These are the types of tools Leisel wants to provide Anthony, so that the next time he's in a group of kids talking about his mother, he'll know how to respond, instead of physically lashing out or wetting his pants."

"You think she's the right person for Anthony?" Edward asked of Leisel.

"I definitely don't think she's the wrong person," Bella deflected. "But I'm not the one she spoke to. If you got a vibe about her, then it's totally within your right to choose-"

"Don't teacher-speak me, Bella. Please. I'm asking you, as my girlfriend, do you think I should take Anthony back?"

Bella nodded. "I do. And I've overheard some other teachers who've referred students to Leisel. They have nothing but great things to say. But apart from all that, Anthony seemed to like her, and that's pretty important."

Edward pulled his fingers through his hair and let out a groan of anguish. "It was hard watching him with her," he said in a small voice.

"Why, baby?"

"Because. I remember sitting in rooms just like that, answering all these questions and thinking that if I said the right thing they'd let me go back to my parents. Every time someone came to talk to me, or took me to talk to someone, I'd get my hopes up. Every time. It literally took years before I stopped being hopeful. I was such a stupid kid…"

"No you weren't. And neither is Anthony."

"I know he's not, but I don't want these people making him think that they're gonna somehow bring his old life back to him. I mean, what's on the other side of these questions, Bella? All he's going to do is remember and regret and want what he can't have."

"Edward…?" Bella touched his arm tentatively. "Your situation is completely different from Anthony's. And if you would...look into things a little further, you'd understand exactly how different."

It took Edward but a moment to realize that Bella was talking about a conversation she'd had not too long ago that uncovered something she, herself, was unwilling to tell him. She was giving him only one way to find out what she was talking about, and it was a course of action he didn't ever see himself taking.

"I just don't trust therapists," Edward changed the course of the conversation, as if Bella hadn't made her previous statement.

"Did you tell Leisel you felt this way when it was just the two of your speaking?" Bella asked.

Edward shook his head. He planned to tell Bella everything that he and Leisel had discussed, but his mind was such a jumbled mess from exhaustion, that he didn't even know where to begin. Except for one thing.

"I told her we were together and that we hadn't told Anthony yet," he said.

"Did she say that was a bad thing? Did she say we should tell him?" Bella asked.

"Yeah, she said we should tell him," Edward paused. "Actually…she said that we shouldn't assume that he doesn't already know – something about the way he draws us in pictures, or some bullshit like that."

Bella laughed. "Wouldn't it be funny if we went through all this trouble to keep it from him, and he already knew?"

"No," Edward said, smiling despite his negative response. "But it would be nice to have you sleep over more."

"Yeah. It would," Bella agreed.

Edward rolled over to face Bella. He placed his hands on her hips and scooted her closer to him. "Stay," he said as he nuzzled his face against her neck.

"I thought we agreed that I wouldn't stay over until we told Anthony…"

"We'll tell him in the morning," Edward coaxed softly as his hands slid down Bella's thighs.

The irony wasn't lost on Edward that only hours before he'd wanted to shut himself off from the world and wallow in the misery that he'd created in his own mind. But this woman, this beautiful woman at his side, had silently come alongside him and revealed his need for her in his life, and not just until the morning's rays pierced the horizon.

Want to read about the Prom with Tutorward and his Bella? Or how about a flash forward into the future when Bella gives birth…is it a boy or girl?

Or perhaps you prefer a ringside seat to what went down between Cannabean Edward and Alice those years ago…or maybe a glimpse of Edward when he decided to take a little detour from the Cannabean Way.

If none of those options are of interest to you, you might want to experience Anthony's point of view of his first day in Forks, or maybe the night he spent with Jasper and Alice, or maybe something he saw when nobody thought he was watching…

Or maybe there was one sentence in any one of those three stories that really stuck with you and you'd like to see it played out in a 5000+ word one-shot. All you have to do is bid Team ItzMegan to make that one wish a reality!