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19. Lit the Fire

Now I'm burning up inside, you lit the fire
Before you go, I gotta let you know that
Every time, every time, every time
I should've said what I meant
Every time, every time, every time
Got caught up in my head

-Lit the Fire, Ralph

March arrives with buckets of rain in the Triangle. We're on a solid week of down pours and I'm beginning to think that we won't see the sun again. The pitter-pater of rain on the roof isn't helping me study. My mind starts to wander yet again to the fact that spring break is only a few short weeks away and how sweet that freedom is going to taste.

"Ugh!" I groan, throwing my pencil on the library table, ignoring the other students that have stopped their studying and are now giving me dirty looks for my sudden outburst. "I give up, my brain is mush!" I'm currently trying to work on my Biology project, but I've been at it so long that everything that I'm trying to do is starting to look the same.

Edward laughs from his seat beside me. He's reading a book for his English class. "What is it this time?"

"Don't make fun of me!" I snap, not in the mood to be teased right now. "You're not good at Biology, are you?"

"Not particularly." He gives me a sheepish look.

"And I'm guessing that your version of "not particularly" is what, an A-?"

He laughs, but doesn't correct my assumption, putting a bookmark in his book. "Why don't you take a break. That's not due for another week, right?"

"Yeah," I huff, closing my binder, rubbing my temples to ease the headache that I've given myself.

Over the last month, Edward and I have gotten close again. We spend a lot of our time together, between school and work. We spend time with the group as well as alone. He's still trying to help me with Latin, but it still isn't going like I hoped. I do have a B in the class, so it isn't like I'm failing or anything.

There's also been flirting. Lots of flirting. We tease each other, our banter flowing with ease as we've became more comfortable with one another. Every time that he leaves my house, he kisses my head, which seems to be his new thing. When we sit at the dining room table, pretending to study, or at least I'm pretending to study, we play footsie under the table.

He tells me more about his time out in California and how he and his dad had gone to their lake house like they had done when he was kid. He tells me about Riley and his other friends that he'd made out there. He'd also made the basketball team. He lights when he talks about of these things, like he's a whole new person. In Cary, I still feel like he hides a lot of himself from people.

I also tell him a lot about me. How I've won awards for my art and how Ms. Cope encourages me to apply to the Rhode Island School of Design when the time comes. I tell him about cheerleading and how happy I was when I made the varsity squad, and that I'm one of only two sophomores that made it.

We also talk about work and how Emmett's fallen very quickly for Charlotte.

I thought that Edward and I are bad when we got on the phone, but I'm sure that Emmett now took the award for the longest phone calls in history. He and Charlotte spend every weekend that they aren't working, together. When I set them up, I was hoping that it would work out, but it's gone over a lot better than I anticipated. They work well together, and I'm happy to see my brother happy even if it does make me queasy to think of my friend kissing him. And I do only hope that it's kissing.

"There you guys are!" Alice brightly speaks, popping up out of nowhere, taking a seat in a chair across from us, the dozen or so bangles that she's wearing, clanking together.

"What's up?" I ask her, putting my things back in my bag.

"Mike Newton is throwing a party tonight." She grins.

"When is Mike Newton not throwing a party?" Mike Newton's pretty much throwing a party every weekend. His parents travel a lot, leaving him with an empty house and access to his parents' liquor cabinets. I've never been to one of his parties, but I've heard that they can get pretty wild.

"Yes, but guess whose band is playing." She wiggles her eyebrows.

"No way!" I gape, "We're actually going to be able to see Jasper's elusive band play?"

"The rest of us are planning on going, and I wanted to know if you two are in?" She bites her lip like a kid in a candy store trying to decide what they want; she's practically bouncing in her seat. She places her hands-on top on mine. "You can stay at my house afterwards." She and Mike lived across the street from each other.

"Miss this chance? Hell, no. Who knows when we'll get this opportunity again?"

"Yes!" she claps her hands, causing some of the students around us to shush her. "What about you?" she looks to Edward, who still hasn't answered.

"I'll come." He nods his head, leaning back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head.

"Excellent!" she can hardly contain the squeal that slips out of her. "This is going to be so much fun!" she gets up, placing a kiss on my head and I bat her away. "See you later!" she disappears as quickly as she appeared, leaving us alone again.

"What did I just get myself into?" Edward looks at me, probably wondering how she was able to get him to agree to come tonight.

"Knowing Alice… anything." I laugh. "I'm just happy to know that I'm not the only one susceptible to her persuading abilities."

"I'm only coming because you are." He tells me as the bell rings.

Emmett and I tell our parents that we're going out with our friends, leaving out the part about the party and the alcohol, and that we're going to be staying at Alice and Quil's houses respectively. They agree, because we've never given them any reason not to trust us before, telling us to have a good time.

Claire picks me up our house at eight. Emmett took our car so he could pick up Charlotte. And by took, I mean he stole the keys when I wasn't looking. Edward's parents are going out of town on a work trip of his mother's; he's driving them to the airport, so he'll be meeting me there.

"I'm starting to remember why I'm the one that usually drives." I grit out as she takes a turn a little too sharply. Not to mention her lead foot, every time she breaks and accelerates, my body is pushed into the seat. I have to force myself not to use the invisible break.

"Pssh, I'm a good driver." She says seconds before having to slam on the breaks at a stop sign. I'm almost decapitated by my seatbelt.

"Our God, who art in heaven, please help me not die." I pray, eyes skyward.

"I thought that you were lapsed?"

"I'm pretty sure He'll still hear me."

The rest of the short drive, I grip the door for dear life and keep my eyes closed. When we finally arrive and she parks, I do the sign of the cross, thanking God that I'm still alive.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic." Claire says, practically having to climb into the backseat to get her stuff.

"I think that people tend to be dramatic when they've survived a near death experience." I reply, getting out of the car. The night is chilly, and I pull my jacket tighter around me before we head across the street to Mike Newton's house.

By the time that we arrive, a little after eight, Mike's house is already packed. The street is lined with cars as far as the eye can see and there's music blasting through the closed front door. It feels like the entire student body is here and we have to shuffle our way inside, and I'm claustrophobic already. It's also incredibly hot from the amount of people here.

Claire and I fight our way through the throng of people in the living room, finding Alice quickly near where Jasper and the rest of his band are finishing setting up in the back of the room.

"Finally, you're here!" Alice squeals, bouncing on the balls of her feet, the contents of the plastic up in her hand sloshing.

"Where's Rose?" I ask, looking around.

Alice rolls her eyes, "She and Royce got into a fight and disappeared."

"Oh." None of say what we want to. Like how Royce is a douche.

"Smile!" Claire tells Jasper gleefully, snapping his picture on her phone.

"Do you have to take my picture?" He asks, putting his hand in front of his face.

"And miss documenting every embarrassing moment for later inspection? I don't think so." She teases, ruffling his hair like he's her little brother.

Jasper rolls his eyes, running his hands over his hair to tame it.

"You should be thankful that I talked her out of bringing her camera." I comment.

"Who're your friends, Jazz?" a guy comes up behind Jasper. He's tall, with russet skin and brown eyes. His black hair is cropped close to his head and he has diamond studs in his ears. His smile is charismatic as he throws his arm around Jasper.

"Paul, these are my friends Alice, Bella, and Claire." Jasper introduces us.

"Nice to you meet you," Paul smiles as he shakes hands with me and Alice. When he gets to Claire, his smile widens. "We've met before."

When I look over at Claire, she's blushing and avoiding eye contact with him.

"Well, I hope you guys enjoy the show." Paul says, going back to setting up, but not before giving Claire a wink.

Once his back is turned, Claire immediately makes a b-line for the kitchen, like that will save her from explaining what just happened.

Alice and I follow her, finding her already digging in a cooler full over drinks, pulling out three Smirnoff Screwdrivers, handing us each one.

"Listen, before I say anything, you have to promise not to react, okay?" Claire demands, opening her drink and taking a gulp while waiting for us to answer.

"Okay," Alice and I both agree.

"Paul is the son of one of my parent's friends. We met at my parents New Year's party and ended up making out. I've avoided him since."

"Okay," I say nodding, not knowing what else to say. Both surprised and not.

"Okay," she says, taking a gulp of her drink again.

It's at this moment that Rose walks into the kitchen, taking her own drink from the cooler. Her mascara is running, and she looks like a hot mess.

"Where's Royce?" Claire asks.

Rose rolls her eyes, "He left."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alice asks.

"No, I don't. I just to hear Jasper's band play and have fun with my friends." She looks down at her feet. It's so much more than Royce that bothering her, it's part of it, but not all. Her parents' relationship's gotten ugly, but she refuses to talk to any of us about it.

It's not long before the band announces themselves and starts to play. The girls and I make our way to the living room with our drinks, dancing with everyone else in the heated room. Claire keeps us supplied with drinks and I lose track of time the haze.

I don't know how I get here, but I find myself standing against the wall, my jacket over my arm, watching my friends dancing. I'm feeling warm and a little float-y, like my brain and my body are disconnected. I take another sip of my drink, noticing that the more I drink, the better it tastes.

I take my phone out. It's almost ten and Edward's not here yet, so I text him.

Bella: Wear u?

I glare at my phone. Not exactly what I wanted to write, but I guess it will do.

"Hey, Bella." Jacob Black materializes in front of me wearing a sweater that has to be made of cashmere and jeans. He's also holding a red Solo full of beer. Six months ago, I would've been falling all over myself by how attractive he is, but the illusion is shattered when I know how self-absorbed he is.

I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, "Jacob." My tone is clipped, hoping that he'll get the point and leave me alone.

"Listen," he starts, clearly not understanding that I want him to go far, far away. "I want to apologize."

I look at him, a little shocked by the words that come out of his mouth. "What?" I'm not sure not sure if it's the alcohol, or the out of character words that are coming out of his mouth, but I can't comprehend what's happening here.

"I wanted to say how sorry I am about our date. I shouldn't have only talked about myself." He doesn't say anything about watching the football game instead of talking to me, and I try not to roll my eyes because all of the words that are coming out of his mouth are probably bullshit. "Will you forgive me?" he asks, using all of his charm.

There would've been a time I would've said yes, like if I were sober, even though I wouldn't mean it. But, now is not that time. Right now, I'm feeling way too brave for my own good.

"You know what, Jacob? I don't forgive you. I kind of just want you to fuck off." I push off the wall, leaving a stunned Jacob behind me as I make my way to the front door, intent on getting some fresh hair, and that's when I see him.

Edward's coming in the front door in jeans and an all too familiar Lakers sweatshirt. The relief that I'm feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt before. His face lights up momentarily when he sees me, then falls when he gets a good look at me.

"Are you okay?" he comes over to me, taking my face in his hands, examining me closely. His eyes meet my glassy ones, realization flashing in his. "Are you… drunk?"

I bring my hand up, pinching my thumb and forefinger together. "A little bit."

He's trying so hard not to laugh, but it's not working so well. His looks over my shoulder, "Was he bothering you?" He nods his head behind me, where Jacob's standing in the living room, staring at us.

"No, he's probably just pissed because I told him to fuck off."

This time Edward loses the battle and laughs, his whole body shaking, which makes me laugh.

"You're late." I accuse once I've gotten myself under control, pushing my finger into his chest.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I'll think about forgiving you." I finish off my drink, emptying the bottle in one big gulp. Edward takes the bottle from me, looking at it.

"How many of these have you had?"

I shrug, "Three, I think."

"Mmm," he hums, still looking at my face. He takes my hand after a moment. "Come with me."

I let him lead me through the house. The music is making the floor beneath my feet shake. The atmosphere is surreal as we make our way round all the dancing bodies. We end up in the kitchen where Edward throws the bottle away before grabbing an empty cup and filling it with water.

"Here," he says, handing the cup to me.

"I don't need you to take care of me." I reply defiantly, not taking the cup from him.

"Believe me, I know. You're the last person that I would ever call a damsel in distress. I'm trying to help keep you up right." He lifts his brows at me, his hand still extended in my direction for several seconds before I take the cup from him.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks once I've drunk all the water.

I nod, stumbling back a little as I do so. "Just very drunk."

I can see him try to hold back from laughing, "I can see that. I think that I should take you home." His fingers softly touch my cheek, making me feel heated.

"Psh, I'm fine." I wave my hand at the two of him. Alright, maybe I'm not quite as fine as I thought.

He lifts his brow at me, "You'll be even more fine when you pass out on the floor." He takes my hand, leading me into the next room to find one of our friends.

We find Alice easily where she's dancing in the middle of the floor like no one else is here. Her eyes are closed, head tilted backward as she sways to the music.

"Hey," Edward shouts to her over the music. "She's supposed to be staying with you tonight, right?"

Alice comes out of trance, looking up him with flushed cheeks. "Yeah, why?"

"She's wasted. I think it's best if I get her out of here. If her parents call, call me and I'll figure it out."

She nods, looking at me. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." I slur.

"Yeah, you better take her home." She agrees, "I'll text later to check on her."

"Come on." Edward takes my hand again, leading me to the front door, me staggering behind him.

The crisp night air hits me hard, and I wonder where my jacket went because it's no longer over my arm. I remember putting it down somewhere, but I don't know where.

We walk down the line of cars until we get to his, coming to a stop beside the passenger side door while he unlocks it.

"I like your face." My hand strokes his cheek, feeling the slight stubble beneath my fingers, enjoying its coarseness. "Why so serious?" I pat his cheek, probably a little too hard.

"You're very amusing when you're drunk." He comments, taking my hand off his face.

"I'm not drunk." I insist.

"Oh?" he lifts his brow at me in challenge.

"No, I'm just a little tipsy."

He snorts, "I take it you've never had alcohol before?"

"Nope." My lips pop on the p and drunk me finds this very amusing because I keep doing it, laughing to myself.

"No, you're not drunk." Edward mutters to himself, running his fingers through his hair, looking both amused and annoyed. He opens the passenger side door for me, but I don't move.

"Do you like me? Like, like me?" I ask, coming and putting my arms on top of the open car door, looking up at him. "There are times when I'm sure you're flirting with me, and times when I can't tell. Because I like you. In fact, I kind of love you." Even in my inebriated state I can't believe I just said that, it just kind of came out. But I do. I can't deny it anymore, I love him. I love everything about him. I love when he gets that cocky smirk on his face that irritates me so much. I love that when he feels uncomfortable or awkward, that he rocks back on his heels. I love the smell of his cologne and how he wants to take care of me. I just… love him.

His hands that are on the door grip it tighter. He groans, hanging his head. "Baby, you're killing me."

"Why?" I ask, looking up at him from underneath my lashes.

"Because, you decide now is a good time to have this conversation."

"Why isn't it?" I push, feeling a little rejection fill me.

"Because you're drunk."

"I know what I feel."

"I know you do," he says, bringing his face inches from mine, so close that I can feel his breath on my lips. "But, when we have this conversation, I want to be sure that you'll remember it."

We stand there suspended for a second as his words settle inside me, their meaning getting lost in my muddled thoughts. There's a moment when his eyes go to my lips, but he doesn't move in. Instead, he stands, putting space between us.

"Now, will you please get in the car?" he asks, eyes burning, and I have no idea what just happened.

So, I do the only thing that I can do. I get in the car.

The ride back toward home is quiet. There's something between us that wasn't there before, or maybe it was, and it was just easier to ignore before.

He pulls into his driveway, cutting the engine. There are so many emotions that cross his face, and he sits there for minute, not saying a word to me.

"Don't be mad." He pleads, his green eyes burning into me.

"I'm not." I'm not mad, just confused. This isn't the reaction that I thought that I would have gotten from him when I poured out my heart to him. Maybe I read him wrong, maybe he doesn't feel the same way, and this is his way of letting me down easy.

Crushed, I get out of the car. Well, stumble out, walking down his driveway.

"Bella, where are you going?" He runs to catch up to me.

"Home."

"You can't go home like this." He takes my wrist, and I wrench it away.

"Like hell I can."

"Please, just come inside," he pleads with me. "I'll make you some coffee, let you sober up and then I'll take you home."

I sniff, my emotions feel like they're all over the place, and I feel suddenly very tired. Not having any fight in me, I nod my head.

He leads me inside, sitting me on the couch while he goes to the kitchen to make the coffee. I'm mostly passed out before he comes back into the room, but I do feel him place a throw blanket over me. Then his fingers are ghosting over the side of my face.

"I love you." His voice is like an echo in the back of my head as I slide into unconsciousness.

A/N: I re-wrote basically the entire chapter. In the original I made a choice that I ended up regretting immediately. For those that read the original, you probably remember what it was. So, I took the opportunity to fix it. I hope you liked it.

The next chapter has also gotten over hauled. I'm going to go finish it now.

See you soon.