Double or Nothing

by Glitterb1234

Bella Swan is not looking forward to her self-imposed exile in Forks, Washington. The only saving grace is the opportunity to spend time with her twin brother Beau and his mysterious girlfriend, Edythe Cullen. Before long, however, Bella finds herself drawn into the strange, unfathomable world of Edythe and her family, most especially her unpredictable brother, Edward.

11. Chapter 10: Interrogations

Hey all, Merry Early Christmas! I posted Chapter 9 the other day, but as I did a straight replacement of the flashback oneshot, I'm not sure everyone got notified that it had gone up, so be sure to jump back and give it a read! As I go to upload I am realising just how long this chapter is, but I really wanted to get back in sync with the chapter breaks from the book, given that the last few chapters have been such a departure from the original story.
Regarding update schedule going forward, I think I'm unfortunately going to have to fall back on my old standard of putting things up as soon as their ready, which means the consistency is well and truly going out the window, but honestly it was already at that point so not much will change.
I hope you enjoy the story regardless of the complete lack of predictability XD

Chapter 10: Interrogations

When I woke up the next morning, sunlight was pouring into the room again, and Edward was nowhere in sight. I lay still for a moment, wondering if the whole thing had been some kind of elaborate dream. It felt impossible that we could have had the conversation I remembered. Then I rolled over and there was a distinct crinkling sound and something very much not fabric between my cheek and my pillow. I pulled out the folded piece of paper, my heart thudding when I saw the elegant curve of my name written in Edward's flawless calligraphy. I unfolded the note eagerly.

Stay safe today. Enjoy school and your afternoon in Port Angeles. You won't see me until tomorrow, but I'll be close. Please let me know if you'd rather I wasn't. I will understand.

There was no signature, but there didn't need to be. Every aspect of the note showed care and attention to detail, from the curve of each letter to the finality of each full stop, right down to the precision of the fold across the middle. I recognised that the page was torn from one of my notebooks, but it was hard to tell as the edge was barely feathered, not like the mess I often made tearing pages out of books like that. He must have used one of my many run-of-the-mill ball point pens too, yet he'd apparently treated these very staid materials as if they were the finest ink and parchment paper. I had a sudden fanciful vision of him writing long letters to friends and relations back in years gone by, sitting at an old-fashioned scroll top desk, perhaps using a fountain pen or even an ink pot and quill pen. I'd never got around to asking his age last night, still not quite sure that I wanted to know, so I wasn't certain how far back my mental time machine needed to travel.

The window was still open, a soft breeze drifting in and fluttering the curtains. I went over, leaned on the sill and stuck my head out. Like last night, I scanned the tree line for any sign of him, and just like last night, there was none. Yet unlike last night, I felt absolutely confident that he was out there, watching, my very own guardian angel – or rather, guardian vampire. I wondered idly if that was a complete oxymoron or simply very unlikely.

"Good morning, Edward," I said softly, knowing as surely as I knew he was watching that he would close enough to hear me. "You don't have to follow me around all day, I'm sure you have better things to do. But if you want to, I don't mind."

I took one last deep breath of morning air, waited one last second to see if he would materialise – he didn't – then ducked back inside and went about my day.

Charlie was already gone, apparently called in early to some emergency with a case he was helping prepare for court. Beau was beaming when he joined me at the breakfast table, practically skipping down the stairs. In a not at all rare moment of what I refused to acknowledge as twin telepathy but was instead my particular ability to read my brother, I knew exactly what was coming next.

"Please don't start," I begged.

He looked affronted. "Start what? I didn't even say anything."

"You're looking triumphant," I informed him, already exasperated. "It's the same look you got when I told you couldn't fit all those mini marshmallows in your mouth when we were ten, and you did it just to prove me wrong."

Beau laughed. "Man, that was a good day. Tragic waste of marshmallows though."

"Well you couldn't exactly swallow them, you didn't have enough space left to chew. They had to come back out the way they went in." I made a face, remembering the gooey mess he'd spat all over Renee's kitchen floor.

His laugh faded to a chuckle as he poured milk on his cereal and dug in. "So what am I triumphant about today, dear sister?"

I gave him an arch look. "Last night, of course. Don't tell me you weren't making Edythe give you a full play-by-play the entire time."

"I would never! Do you think I have no respect for your privacy?"

"I know you don't," I informed him flatly. "Remember Brody Phillips?"

His cheeks turned slightly pink. "In my defence, the guy was a creep. What kind of teenage boy convinces his family to change their vacation plans just so he can follow the pretty girl from his Math class all summer?"

We both shuddered at that memory – that had been an interesting few weeks in California – before I got us back on the topic at hand.

"So you weren't sat in your room listening to your girlfriend recounting everything that was happening upstairs?"

"Not everything," was his response, paired with a trademark Beau Swan grin that was clearly meant to turn the whole thing into a joke and get him off the hook.

I kicked at the leg of his chair, missed and glanced off his shin. I was not in the least bit distressed by this accidental injury, and I did not apologise.

Beau pouted. "You're so mean all of a sudden. I don't like what this boy is doing to you. Maybe I should be more opposed to him."

"Oh shush, you big baby, it wasn't that bad. And completely justified when you're being an ass."

He sputtered at that, clutching his chest like I'd deeply wounded him. I couldn't help giggling, the theatrics finally achieving what he'd been aiming for over the last few minutes – making me laugh so I wouldn't be mad at him.

"Honestly, she didn't tell me that much," Beau admitted when we'd both calmed down and gone back to munching. "Just that he was being melodramatic, and you weren't letting him get away with it. Good for you on that, by the way, he needs taking down a peg or two."

"You know he's probably still listening in," I pointed out.

"The guy has an inside line to my entire stream of consciousness," he reminded me in turn. "Even if I didn't say it, he would hear it."

"Oh, right." I pursed my lips. "Does that ever... bother you? That he can do that, I mean? Or what any of them can do."

Beau shrugged. "Maybe a little in the beginning. But I got used to it quickly. It's just a fact of life for the Cullens – Edward knows what you're thinking, Edythe knows what you want, Alice knows what you're going to do next and Jasper knows how you feel about it all. When you're around them enough, responding to it is second nature. Besides, it wouldn't do me any good if I did have a problem with it. None of them can exactly turn off their talents. I can roll with it or I can be uncomfortable, and I know what I prefer."

"I guess that makes sense," I agreed. "So that was all she told you?"

"Pretty much. She had some commentary on the proceedings, but I don't think you need to hear that."

"I want to," I insisted. "I know it's kind of cheating to ask, but I want to know what she thinks of me too."

He smiled with an indulgent air that I didn't altogether appreciate; it made me feel like a naive child.

"Edythe really likes you, Bell, you have nothing to worry about on that front. She was mainly complaining about her brother being an idiot and sabotaging his own happiness, stuff like that."

I was sceptical of that. "The implication being that I could make him happy."

Beau tipped his head to the side and frowned. "You don't think so?"

I gave him a 'duh' look. "He's him and I'm me. How in the world am I ever going to be enough?"

Now he was looking at me like I was crazy, and I didn't like that anymore than I had the previous smile. "Were we listening to the same conversation? Because I didn't get word for word but what I heard made it sound like he was pretty invested in spending time with you. Or does 'you have become incredibly precious to me,' have a different meaning to you?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Not word for word, huh?"

"Don't avoid the question. You don't think any of last night suggested that he was interested in you?"

"Maybe for now," I allowed reluctantly. "He's definitely curious and weirdly protective, but he's not mentioned anything beyond that as far as I can tell."

Beau shook his head at me, sighing in obvious exasperation. "How can you be so smart and so dumb at the same time?"

I pushed him hard in the shoulder, catching him off guard and making his whole chair tip before he recovered. "Mean!"

He went to push me back, but I was expecting it and hurried out of my chair, leaving him and the whole unsettling conversation behind in the kitchen as I went to get my bag for school. I was afraid he would bring it back up in the truck, but he must have sensed I wasn't quite ready yet and let me drive in silence.

School that day dragged even more than usual. Despite the fact that I knew better, a tiny part of me still kept hoping that I would turn a corner and see Edward coming the other way. I reflexively scanned the cafeteria at lunchtime, knowing I wouldn't find what I was looking for but too ingrained into the habit now to stop myself from doing it anyway. I forced away the disappointment, and though it made me feel queasy again, I made sure to buy a normal lunch, knowing that it wasn't healthy not to eat properly every time he was out of my sight; I had never particular cared about my weight, but I'd always been slight and I was well aware that I didn't have a lot of pounds that I could safely lose.

When I made it to our table, my heart sank further into the pit of my stomach at the first glance at Tyler's eager expression. The Cullens could not come back to school soon enough for me – I needed Edythe's deflection abilities, although I would definitely prefer the privacy of a table shared with Edward, far away from all other irritating boys, my brother included. I braced for impact as I sat down.

He didn't pounce immediately; the conversation at the table was focused on the dance, allowing me to easily remain out of it and eat my food in relative peace. But then things circled around to tonight's shopping trip and what sort of outfits everyone was planning to look for. McKayla was giving Jeremy very strict instructions on what flowers not to include in the corsage he was getting her, the poor boy looking rather like a deer in the headlights but obviously eager to please. While everyone else was distracted, Tyler leaned over to me.

"Any ideas what colour you're going to go with for your prom dress, Bella?" he asked, smiling like we were discussing some sort of grand conspiracy.

"Um... no?" I said, so confused that it came out as a question. I was about to say that I probably wasn't going to prom either, but he ploughed heedlessly ahead.

"It's just that if I'm going to invest in a tux for both occasions, which is my plan, ya know, gotta make the old allowance stretch as far as it can, I want to make sure I get something that matches. At least get the same colour tie or something like that."

I gave him a blank look.

"I thought girls liked to coordinate their outfit with their date," he explained, like I was missing this very obvious point.

"I'm sorry, what?" I spluttered, completely aghast.

"You know, to make the pictures look good and stuff," Tyler went on, finally starting to look concerned. "But if you don't want to do that, that's cool too. I'll just get plain black, so it'll match anything."

I couldn't respond the way I wanted to, my brain so beyond overwhelmed by the fact that Tyler did genuinely think we were going to prom together, just like Beau had predicted. Was the boy actually delusional or just that eager to make up for the van incident?

My brother, thankfully, was both listening in and more switched on than me. "Dude, where have you got this idea that you're going to prom with my sister?"

Tyler now looked properly perplexed. "I asked her, and she said yes. Don't start getting all brotherly and protective on me now, man, we've been friends long enough for you to trust me."

"I didn't!" I objected more vociferously than I meant to, then clarified when he turned his confused gaze on me. "I didn't say I would go to prom with you."

"Yeah, Ty, I was there, remember?" Beau chimed in. "You asked her to the Spring Dance, she said she was busy, which you knew about because you said so, then you said 'okay, we'll do prom instead then' and just walked away."

"Seriously Tyler?" Erica joined in, appropriately horrified, which certainly made me feel a whole lot better. "In what universe is that how you ask a girl out?"

McKayla made fervent noises of agreement, and even Angela nodded slightly. Jeremy looked like he was taking mental notes, and Logan was glaring at me again.

"I'm paraphrasing a little," Beau admitted. "But that was pretty much it."

Tyler looked uncomfortable with being ganged up on. "I guess I didn't think about it, really. My dad always says confidence gets results so..." He looked at me again, a light of hope coming back into his eyes. "Hey Bella, I know it's early, but do you want to go to prom with me?"

Had this happened a week ago, I might have tried to find a nice way to respond, or maybe even asked for time to think about it which I would actually use to formulate a plausible excuse. But it was happening today, the day after I had come to the realisation that I was head over heels in love with a mythical creature who made Tyler – who wasn't exactly ugly, by any means – look like a cave troll in comparison. Said creature was also about ninety-nine percent certain to be listening in to the conversation right at this very moment. I wondered how he was reacting to what was happening; was he as horrified as I was? Did he care at all? That was obvious – even with the doubts I'd expressed to Beau this morning, he clearly cared, on some level, the least at this moment. But was it as much as me? Was I alone in my hopeless infatuation? And more to the point, would it last once he'd satisfied his curiosity and realised how uninteresting I was?

One thing was for sure. The Tyler Situation needed more decisive handling.

"No, Tyler," I told him firmly.

He looked so disappointed that I almost relented and tried to soften the blow, but once again Beau intervened. His hand came down heavily but reassuringly on Tyler's shoulder.

"Bad luck, man. But you know what they say, there's plenty of fish in the sea. You'll find the right girl for you eventually."

"Or guy," I chimed in, unable to stop myself glancing over at Logan.

McKayla giggled. "Yeah, right. That would be so weird."

"Not really," I argued, annoyed again by her attitude on this particular topic. "You can't make assumptions about that kind of thing, Kay. And I don't think it matters who people choose to date as long as they're happy."

McKayla conceded with poor grace, Tyler looked incredibly uncomfortable, Logan looked like he wanted to strangle me, and Angela had the presence of mind to change the subject. While we all discussed our Macbeth papers (a few people panicking over how far they were from being done with less than a day to go) I sat back in my seat and took a figurative step away from the conversation. I volunteered my essay topic when asked, prompting several blank looks and an approving nod from my brother, then went back to my abstraction, trying to imitate the trademark Cullen undirected stare and careful not to look at Logan or Tyler in particular.

Biology passed slowly, sat alone at my lab table. I found myself doodling very familiar pairs of eyes in the corner of my notes. Part of me wanted to scribble them out – I certainly didn't have the skill to do justice to the real thing – but it felt wrong to erase them like that, so I left them alone. It was oddly comforting, like he could actually see me through them. What a hopelessly sappy idea; I was starting to reel from how completely my thought process had changed in under twenty-four hours.

Gym was okay, another introduction lecture, this time on badminton. As I was leaving the locker room on my way to meet Beau and head home, I was already thinking about what I could say to convince Edward to come into my room again tonight. We would be dumping our stuff and heading straight back out as soon as we got home, to give us as much time in Port Angeles as possible before our various school night curfews took effect. I wouldn't be able to invite him in until we got home, and his note had said I wouldn't see him until tomorrow, but I was reasonably confident that I could change his mind if I could just work out what to say. I was so engrossed in my thoughts that I didn't even realise I was being approached until hard hands were abruptly yanking me into an empty corridor just past the boys' locker room. For half a second, my heart raced with excitement – had Edward changed his mind and snuck into school to see me? – but that was all the time it took for me to recognise the person who had grabbed me. It was Logan, and he looked furious. Not a patch on Edward's fury, of course, but certainly frightening enough in its own way; the pounding in my chest didn't slow.

"Logan, what-" I began, but he cut across me in a hard, angry voice.

"What are you trying to do, huh? You want to embarrass me in front of everyone? You think it's funny or something?"

I was so taken aback I could barely respond. His hand was still tight on my arm and I whimpered just slightly at the pain.

"Logan, you're hurting me," I protested, hating how weak and scared my voice sounded.

He laughed harshly. "I'm hurting you? Do you have any idea what will happen to me if people find out my secret, you bitch? I don't even want to know how you found out, but you cannot tell anyone, you hear me? I swear to God, I will kill you if you do."

He shook me once but thankfully let me go. I rubbed my arm and glanced around to see how close help might be if I needed it. He had someone found a corner that no one was passing by; he was between me and the route to the parking lot, and I was pretty certain the hallway behind me led to a dead end. Though I was completely terrified, I squared my shoulders, tried to remember what self-defence techniques I knew, and matched his anger with as much calm conviction as I could muster.

"I'm not trying to out you to everyone," I told him firmly. "I won't claim to be any kind of expert, but I do know that would be an awful thing to do. I worked out the truth on my own, because it was the only explanation I could think of for how annoyed you always are with me when I haven't done anything to you. So, let me make something very clear to you. I have absolutely no interest in Tyler whatsoever, which you would probably have realised yourself if you could stop being petty and jealous for five seconds and actually pay attention to the fact that it's always him bugging me. I wish he would leave me alone, but I like to think I'm the sort of decent person who considers other people's feelings before they fly off the handle at them just for being annoying. You are obviously hurting and I'm sorry for that, but it doesn't give you an excuse to act like a dick."

I didn't swear often, so it surprised even me to hear that word come out of my mouth. Logan was certainly startled and had taken a big step back from me. I kept going, wanting to make my point and also hoping he would continue moving back so I might have the space to attempt an escape.

"I understand that the kids here are not exactly open to the idea of same sex relationships. I can only imagine what the adults are like. But the fact is, you're gay and that's not going to change. The decision you have to make now is how you deal with that. I'm not saying you have to come out tomorrow, that's your choice and you should only do it when you feel ready. The way I see it, you can get out of here in what, a year and a half? Just get through to graduation and then you can fly off to college in New York or San Francisco or somewhere else where you'll find people who don't give a rat's ass who you want to sleep with. You can surround yourself with those people and maybe finally get to feel good about yourself. In the meantime, you can go around repressing how you feel and being angry and bitter and lashing out at people for things they can't control, or you can spend the time you have left here doing some serious self-evaluation and coming to terms with who you are, so you're ready to accept all those people who want to accept you. I know this won't mean much coming from me, and that's fine, you can keep hating me all you want, I don't care. But Logan, I want you to know that there is nothing wrong with you. You are not dirty or weird or broken or anything that you or anybody might have told you about yourself. All those people you're afraid of, the people who would hurt you if you came out, they don't matter. They are the ugly ones, because they can't see how amazing you are."

Logan blinked a few times. I knew how he felt – I hadn't even known I had that kind of a speech in me.

"You don't know anything about me," he muttered stubbornly after a moment.

"No, I don't," I agreed. "I barely know you. But I know you deserve to be happy and loved. I know you deserve to feel safe and not to have to hide any part of yourself. I know that because that's what everyone deserves, no matter who they are. The choice is yours now, Logan. Make it carefully."

I took a chance and swerved round him, still afraid that I would feel the clamp of his hand on my arm again. But he let me go; when I turned around at the end of the hallway, he hadn't moved an inch. I broke into a run, stumbling slightly a few times but making it to the parking lot without incident. I was shaking by the time I found Beau, the terror finally setting in now that I had let go of the anger and forced confidence. My brother looked genuinely scared when he saw me and wisely guided me straight to the truck. I could feel eyes on us from every direction, but I couldn't muster enough presence of mind to care. I was dimly aware that I was probably going into shock.

When we were safely ensconced in the cab of the truck, Beau took both my hands in his and forced me to face him.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

Haltingly, the shivers making me stumble over almost every word, I recounted the last five minutes back to him. I wasn't really thinking about what I was saying, the words coming out robotically as I tried to calm the terror still thumping in my veins. For the moment, I was disconnected from my retelling and all its attendant emotions – I had to be, or I would lose it. Still, when I finished, my cheeks were wet with the tears I had started quietly crying without noticing. Beau dug a lightly crumpled tissue out of his pocket and offered it to me. I wiped my eyes hurriedly and took a deep, shuddering breath. My brother looked like he was wrestling with some pretty big emotions of his own, though his were leaning more in the direction of anger than mine.

"Do I need to have words with him?" he said through gritted teeth. "Because that was not okay, Bella. You know that right?"

"I know," I assured him. "Please, just leave it alone. He's struggling enough already."

Beau shook his head at me. "I swear to God, you're too nice for your own good. I'm genuinely concerned that it's going to get you badly hurt one of these days."

I smiled weakly. "Now you sound like Edward."

Which reminded me that there was a high chance that he had heard everything that had happened, or my retelling at the very least. I wondered about his reaction. I thought I knew what it might be, but I still wasn't one hundred percent certain of his feelings. Would he be as angry as Beau was? Worse, maybe? Or would he dismiss it as human foolishness? Would he want to comfort me, soothe me like my brother did? I didn't know. For all we'd got cleared up the night before, there were still a lot of questions I was wary of asking, in case I scared him off. More importantly, his answer might not be what I wanted to hear.

Beau's mind had clearly gone to at least a similar place, if not the exact same one. He glanced reflexively across the tree line across the parking lot.

"Well, Logan's dead," he muttered. "That's a shame, he's a pretty decent friend when he's not being an asshole."

I tipped my head to the side. "What makes you say that?"

He looked at me like I was crazy. "You think Edward is going to let him get away with treating you like that? You've seen him when he's angry. I'm honestly still not convinced I shouldn't pummel Logan over this, and you're just my sister. Edward is going to be a thousand times worse."

I shook my head. "I really think you might be overestimating how much he cares. Honestly, it wasn't that bad."

"Isabella Marie!" He was exasperated now, and definitely still annoyed if he was full naming me. "You are literally shaking, probably in mild shock. This is not nothing."

"Let it go, Beaufort Geoffrey," I insisted, leaning into his name and making a conscious effort to stop the shivers. I was starting to calm down and actually feeling better with every moment that passed – ribbing my brother was definitely helping. "Please, let's just get back to the house and dump our stuff. I want to go have a nice time with our friends and forget this ever happened."

He looked like he didn't want to end the conversation, but something in my eyes must have convinced him that he was about to hit the brick wall of my stubbornness, so he just sighed and started the truck.

We drove back to the house in silence and quickly dropped our bags in our rooms. I switched to a smaller purse that I could still carry my wallet and phone in; when I came downstairs, Beau was sliding his own things into his back pocket. I envied the ease with which boys could get ready for a shopping trip and silently cursed the universal evil that was the pocket sizing on women's clothing. A horn honked from outside and we hurried out to meet Jeremy, who was picking us both up. Erica was already in his front seat; McKayla was collecting Angela and Tyler and meeting us there.

The Port Angeles trip was mostly uneventful. Boys and girls went their separate ways almost as soon as we arrived; the guys needed to get tuxes and Jeremy at the very least had to order a corsage, while we made a beeline for the one department store in town for dresses and accessories. McKayla kept up a steady stream of gossip while we shopped, mainly trying to get Angela to admit who she had wanted to ask to the dance and teasing me about Tyler's prom plans. I was very firm on my stance that I was not going with him, or anyone else for that matter, and tried to help Angela out by deflected Kay whenever I could, commenting on a dress or pulling one of them away to look at other things. I let Erica talk me into buying a necklace that I probably shouldn't have wasted money on, given that I would have no occasion to wear it in the near future. But I thought the delicate circular sapphire pendant might go nicely with my favourite blue blouse. The copper setting and chain also reminded me of a certain someone's hair, and I just couldn't resist.

When I'd heard about the trip, I'd had an idea that I could slip off alone at some point and try to find a bookstore. However, when I'd mentioned that plan to Beau in the car, he'd informed me that the only place he knew in Port Angeles was a new age hippie place which wouldn't have anything of interest to me, so I didn't bother.

All the time we were out, I found I was hyper aware of what I said and did. Knowing that Edward was watching and listening in, I felt oddly comforted, but also worried that he would see something I didn't want him to. I also began to wonder what he might be hearing in the minds of my friends around me, how they were responding to me and what that might do to his impression of me on top of the actions themselves. All the time, there were the memories of the conversation in the hallway with Logan circling in the back of my mind, along with Beau's assertion about the intensity of Edward's likely reaction.

We met back up with the boys for dinner at a little Italian place on the boardwalk. Beau, clearly still trying to lift my spirits after earlier, made a stupid joke about the name – La Bella Italia.

"Hey sis, think they'll give us a discount since you own the place?" he smirked.

I wasn't the only one who groaned.

"Beau, that was awful," I complained.

"Truly terrible," McKayla agreed.

Jeremy snickered. "I think you just lost a lot of people's respect there, dude."

Beau pouted dramatically. We were all still laughing at him as we walked into the restaurant. Dinner was good, not spectacular but my mushroom ravioli was decent. Beau, far less picky about his food, made various happy noises as he inhaled his seafood linguini. The others all seemed fairly satisfied too. Chatter flowed freely around the table; the only exception was Tyler, who still seemed a little uncomfortable around me and had deliberately seated himself at the other end of the table. I wasn't about to complain about that.

After we'd eaten and gone through the predictable rigmarole of splitting a restaurant bill between seven teenagers, all paying in cash and a few needing separate receipts to show to overly suspicious parents, there was a short debate about going to catch a late movie. In the end, though, too many people had to be home, and no one that was able to stay out could agree on what they wanted to see anyway, so we all piled back into the cars and got on the road for the hour long drive back. Beau continued to chat with Erica and Jeremy, while I sat back in my seat watching the world go by. The trees flashed past, gradually growing darker as the sun set. In the midst of the forest, the sky wasn't as easy to see as it was on the vast plains of Phoenix. Still, the blue melted into a red-orange blaze, gradually growing pink-tinged over the treetops and darkening into purple, deep blue and finally black. By the time we were pulling up outside our house, the moon was glowing and stars twinkled, not interrupted by the insidious light pollution of the big city that I was used to. I stood on the driveway as Beau said his goodbyes, offering only a distracted wave myself, looking up at the bright pale-yellow circle, not quite full just yet but getting there. Charlie had left the porch light on for us and the little house was more inviting and welcoming than I had ever found it before. Despite myself, I was getting used to Forks, and definitely not hating it. Though it was admittedly a lot to do with Edward, I also had to concede that he wasn't all that I was appreciating about small town life.

"Think you'll have another visit tonight?" Beau asked casually as we fell into step, walking up the driveway.

"I don't know," I answered honestly, then added with a sly grin, "Will you?"

He smirked. "Probably. Want me to send her up to read you a bedtime story if Edward doesn't stop by?"

I flicked his ear and strode ahead. He was laughing as we got inside and hung up our jackets. Charlie came out of the living room, an amused smile on his lips.

"You're in a good mood, kiddo," he commented. "You guys have a nice time?"

"It was fun," I said, and was surprised to find I wasn't lying. "The girls got some nice dresses."

"I think Jer nearly had an aneurism over those flowers," Beau added, chuckling at the memory. "But we got there in the end."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourselves. Thanks for that meatloaf you left in the fridge, Beau, it was great."

My brother shrugged. "No big deal, it was in the freezer and needed using up anyway. I'll still cook tomorrow, okay Bells?"

"Sure," I agreed, not about to argue with another night off cooking. "But right now, I think I need to head for bed. That shopping took more out of me than I realised."

I yawned theatrically, and I knew Beau wasn't buying it. Charlie, on the other hand, waved me up the stairs and wished me goodnight without the least suspicion.

I hurried through my bathroom routine as much as I could and returned to my room feeling ready to face whatever was coming. I mentally ran through my ongoing list of questions, deciding which ones I might venture asking tonight. There were still several that were borderline terrifying in the uncertainty of their answers, but I knew I would have to get to them soon, so I tentatively resolved to ask a few, provided the right situation came up, of course.

Back in my room, I slid up the window that I'd reflexively closed that morning.

"I know you said tomorrow," I softly told the trees. "But you're welcome to come in if you want to."

Unlike last night, I decided not to watch the window. There wasn't the same uncertainty there had been last night, but at the same time I didn't want to be disappointed if he decided to stick to his guns about not seeing me until tomorrow, or if he wasn't there, which was still entirely possible. Instead, I set about putting my phone on to charge, moving my wallet back to my school bag and finding a home for my new necklace. I didn't have much in the way of jewellery and I didn't have anywhere in particular to keep it. As I crossed to the dresser where I kept a small mirror and a few keepsake boxes, I took the necklace out of its little velvet bag, stroking the delicate chain and rubbing the pendant gently between my thumb and index finger.

"That's very pretty," Edward's soft voice sounded from over my shoulder. I didn't jump at the suddenness of it and was irrationally proud of myself for that fact.

I looked up, into the mirror, into the reflection of his eyes. He was every bit as breath-taking as always; more frequent exposure was apparently not having much of a desensitising effect. Once again, there was a palpable rush of something undefinable when I saw him, like the lack of him all day had left a gap in me that was suddenly filled back up with his presence. I couldn't have stopped the soft smile on my lips if I'd tried.

"Thanks," I said, setting the necklace down and turning to face him properly. "And thanks for coming in. I wasn't sure if you would."

He shrugged, the motion not exactly suiting him – too casual by far. "You asked me. Besides, I wanted to check on you after... earlier."

I studied his face more closely and realised that what had appeared at first glance to be a blandly pleasant expression held distinct tightness around the corners of his eyes and mouth. As I watched, he gave up on the pretence and frowned with an air of distress. For one of only a handful of times that I could remember since we'd met, Edward approached me of his own accord.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly, gesturing to my arm where Logan had been gripping it. In the hours that had passed, I had barely thought about it; I glanced down, glad that I was in a tank top tonight, so I didn't have to wrestle with a sleeve to see if I had a bruise or something. There was no mark that I could see, and it didn't hurt any more. As for the sting of the words... I knew they had come from a place of pain and fear and weren't really meant for me.

"I'm fine," I told him honestly.

His frown deepened minutely, like he didn't believe me. He took another step closer, putting us as near as we had been in that long, intense moment last night, when the epiphany of my love for him had hit me so forcefully. My heart reacted to his closeness which made him look more wary somehow. He swayed slightly, then leaned a little closer.

"May I?" he asked on a breath, reaching out toward my arm again, not a point this time but an intention to touch. I couldn't catch my breath to answer, so I just nodded.

Slowly, gently, like he was afraid I would break, Edward brushed his fingers over the skin of my upper arm. Electricity zinged through me from every point of contact between our skin. My already disrupted breathing hitched audibly, and his fingers halted in response. Our gazes locked, just like last night, dark brown to warm gold. Finally, unbelievably, I saw in the depths of his eyes every emotion I was feeling, reflected back at me with as much, if not more intensity. Any doubt I was still holding onto over his feelings was dispelled in an instant. I wasn't what you would call experienced when it came to boys, but there was no mistaking that look.

"Satisfied?" I breathed with absolutely no volume whatsoever.

"No," he answered honestly. "But it's good to know that idiot didn't do any serious harm."

His expression turned murderous and, his perusal complete, he went to move back. Impulsively, I brought up my hand and caught his fingers. He froze for just a spilt second but didn't attempt to retrieve his hand or move any further away.

"Was Beau right earlier?" I wondered, striving for casual but definitely too breathless to make it convincing. "Should I be warning Logan to watch his back, or keeping an eye out for sudden unexplained homicides in the news?"

Edward gave me an arch look. "You think I would be sloppy enough to leave a body?"

I shrugged. "I don't know how it works. But you didn't answer my question."

He sighed heavily. "Part of me really wants to. When it was all happening, it was all I could do to keep from racing in and breaking his hand right then and there. My sister kept me contained... just about."

I winced, able to imagine more vividly than I would like to exactly what he was describing. "Poor Logan."

"Don't worry," he reassured me, twisting his hand slightly so his thumb could run a soothing pass over my knuckles; the motion made my hand tingle. "You pleaded his case fairly convincingly, and I must admit, you more than held your own. I was pleasantly surprised."

I smiled. "What can I say, I have hidden depths."

"You certainly gave him a lot to think about."

I hummed in agreement, then began to gently move around him to sit on my bed. I was prepared to let go of his hand if he pulled away, but he let me tow him by the fingers and sat down beside me. It was the closest we had sat next to each other in a while, since our last Biology class together, almost a week ago now. I started playing idly with his fingers, observing the long, delicate shape of them, the way his hand didn't seem to have as many creases as mine, or at least ones that weren't as deep. He let me peruse in silence for a while, before finally stepping in.

"Do you have more questions tonight?" he asked, a gentle invitation.

I pursed my lips bashfully and gave him an apologetic look. "I think I might always have questions. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," he assured me, venturing another comforting swipe across the back of my hand. "I... I like this. Having you know about all this, I mean. It's something of a relief, I suppose."

"No more maddening hints," I commented.

"No," he agreed with a slight chuckle. "No more keeping you up at night."

"At least not in that way," I added breezily, then turned crimson as the potential implications of that sank in. Where was all this confidence coming from all of a sudden?

There was a look on Edward's face now that made it seem like he should be blushing too, but he stayed as white as ever.

Before he could say anything, I jumped in. "I like it too. I'm glad you feel like you can trust me now. Although I guess it's a little forced." I started feeling uncertain again. "You know, since I found out on my own. It's not like you have much choice."

He sighed and shook his head slightly, not looking unhappy exactly – more resigned. "I think I have to admit that my siblings were right, and all of this was pretty much inevitable after my stunt with the van. Edythe told you about their bet?" When I nodded, he went on. "You may be interested to learn that none of them believed you wouldn't find out eventually. It was only the timing that was in question. I suppose that means they had more faith in you than I did." He looked somewhat shamefaced at that.

I offered my own comforting thumb stroke, though the position of our hands meant mine swept across his palm. My skin was still tingling, but the shock of the first spark had subsided. "It's okay. I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me."

"I will try," he said, far more seriously than I thought the conversation warranted. I was beginning to get the impression that Edward took everything more seriously than other people, and I couldn't decide yet whether that was a good or bad thing. Circumstance dependent, I supposed.

"You had questions?" he prompted after a few comfortably quiet seconds. I tried to choose one to start and went with I hoped was a relatively easy question.

"Can I ask how old you are?" I ventured tentatively. Maybe vampires, like most women over thirty, disliked being probed about their real age.

"I'm seventeen," he replied breezily, almost automatically. I could tell he was usually very good at keeping up the facade. Without the van incident, only my obsessive attention to detail when it came to him would have been enough to let me know there was something different. This answer was a half-truth, and I wasn't going to let those slide any more.

"How long have you been seventeen?" I pressed.

There was a long pause before he finally sighed and admitted, "A while."

It was something, but not quite enough for me. "And how long is a while, exactly?"

"You're persistent tonight, aren't you?" he griped without any real anger.

I just arched one eyebrow at him and waited.

Edward watched me very carefully as he spoke, obviously analysing my reaction; in return, I was very conscious to keep my face smooth.

"I was born in Chicago in 1901, and I haven't aged since 1918."

My preparation worked, and I held in my shock. Honestly, it wasn't as bad as I was expecting. A part of me had been imagining he would be hundreds of years old. Just over a century was far easier to swallow. My mental image of Edward in the age of letter writing resolved; it would have been a fountain pen, probably a gift from a proud parent for some achievement at school, and he would have worn a suit with a stiff pointed collar and a tie, perhaps a cravat on special occasions. Looking at him to compare now, I realised suddenly that I had never once registered what he was wearing – too caught up in his face and all its mysteries. He had on a simple long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, nothing fancy but clearly very good quality. His shoes had the distinctive star of the Converse logo just barely showing below his jeans, as opposed to my own knock-off tennis shoes. He wore no jacket, and I supposed that with as cold as his skin was, he probably didn't feel low temperatures in the same way. I knew that the cold of his skin against mine should probably be bothering me, but there was no way I was letting go any time soon.

He was studying my hand as I processed the latest revelation. His fingers were tense with anticipation, but what was he expecting? Fear? Revulsion? Rejection? None of them had crossed my mind. All I could think of was how many things suddenly made sense about him – not just the antiquated speech patterns, but the world-weariness, the sense that he had seen too much, felt too much and done too much, not enough of it positive to keep from damaging his worldview and making him jaded. He had lived over a hundred years, and there were moments when you could see every one of them in his eyes. I felt a surge of pity. Without thinking about it, my free hand came up and stroked across his cheek, curling gently around his jawline.

In a flash, he was gone. One of my hands was abruptly empty, the other hanging in space, the face it had been trying to cradle having disappeared. I looked wildly around my room, disoriented enough that it took me a moment to find him. The apology was already on my lips, but it got caught in my throat when I saw him at the window, trying to push his way out but stopped by something.

"Move," he growled fiercely. The sound made me shiver; I had never heard him sound so... vampiric was the only word for it. I was glad his back was to me, because I really did not want to see the expression that accompanied it.

"Edward," came Edythe's soft, calm voice from beyond the window frame. "You don't want to do this."

"Move, Edythe!" Edward insisted, somehow more angrily than before.

"No," was her mild reply.

"E-Edythe," I stuttered, not quite sure whether I was part of the conversation anymore. "If he doesn't want to stay-"

"Oh, but he does want to, Bella," she said, cutting me off. She climbed gracefully through the window, forcing her brother to step back. It was incredible to watch little Edythe, who really was no bigger than me, pushing against tall, surprisingly solid Edward and actually making some headway. He snarled at her viciously, apparently angry beyond words. She didn't seem at all phased, arching an eyebrow at him like he was a toddler having a tantrum and she was just waiting for him to get it out of his system.

"Now you're just being rude," she admonished him gently. "Please stop, you'll only end up looking more foolish."

There was a very long, tense moment as the two siblings stood toe to toe, staring each other down, murderous fury up against complete nonchalance. It seemed like some kind of silent conversation was going on and I realised that with the abilities Edythe has described, that was completely within the realm of possibility. Finally, Edward took a deep, slow breath through his nose. Then his shoulders slumped, his expression calmed, and his eyes closed.

"There," Edythe said, sounding subtly triumphant. "Doesn't that feel better?"

"You are playing with fire, sister," he replied, his voice still holding a hint of a threat.

"I'm not doing anything," she shot back breezily. "Except keeping my idiot brother from spoiling a beautiful moment." She turned to me. "Allow me to apologise on my brother's behalf, Bella. I would say it's exceptional behaviour, but unfortunately it really isn't. And I'm sorry for intruding without invitation."

"It's... fine," I said weakly, still trying to recover my own equilibrium. "But really, if this is too much... I don't want to cause any more problems."

They both shook their heads firmly.

"You aren't doing anything wrong," Edward assured me, the self-loathing back again. "You were only doing what came naturally. You should be able to do that sort of thing without having to agonise over it first. With anyone else, it wouldn't be an issue."

"But I don't want to be with anyone else." It was my turn to be forceful now.

"And that's my cue to leave," Edythe said, turning back to the window. "Try that again, brother, and the Aston Martin gets a new paint job."

He glared at her retreating back. "You wouldn't dare."

Her only answer was a somewhat ghostly cackle as she disappeared back into the darkness.

Another long silence descended in the wake of her departure. This time I broke it.

"I mean it. I don't care what special considerations I have to make. I don't mind being careful or going slow or whatever it takes. Just tell me how to make this work. No matter what, I want you here. No one else."

Edward's eyes were pained. "I can't tell you how much it tears me apart to hear you say that. It makes part of very happy, happier than I thought was possible. But I can't get rid of the side of me that says this is all a very bad idea."

I stood up, moving cautiously closer. When he didn't bolt, I took another step forward, so close that I had to tilt my chin up to see his face properly.

"Do you think you can give it just a little more time before you make up your mind? Give me a chance to learn the rules?"

He thought for what felt like an incredibly long time. Then he nodded, slowly, but firmly.

"I think I can do that. Can I ask for something in return?"

"Anything," I promised, perhaps rashly. Last time I'd promised him something without knowing what it was, I'd ending up getting laughed at. But this felt different.

The side of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. "Tomorrow, can I ask the questions?"

That surprised me a little. "What do you have to ask about?"

"Everything."

His voice was intense and made me a little nervous. His eyes blazed, full of fervent curiosity, and though I couldn't imagine what he would want to know, I couldn't deny him. Especially if it got him to give us a chance.

"I suppose it's only fair for you to get a turn."

His proto smile widened. "Thank you."

Tentatively, still clearly nervous though it no longer showed on his face, he offered his hand again. I took it eagerly but gently so as not to startle him. Our fingers curled together again, and the same thrill went through me. I was watching our hands, following his thumb as it glided across my knuckles again, so I didn't see, only felt, when he leaned in and softly kissed my forehead. I stayed absolutely still, drinking in the moment, happy to let him take the lead for just a little while. I was sure I heard him breathe in the scent of my hair.

"Ah," he sighed, pulling back. I looked up to see him smiling, finally looking happy and peaceful. "I don't think this will be so hard again."

"I'm glad."

Edward nodded very slightly. "Are you ready to go to bed?"

I thought about that. A few of my questions had been answered without me having to ask, but there was one I was still curious about.

"Is it okay if I ask one more question? I think I know the answer, but... I guess I need to hear it?" I made a face; I wasn't explaining myself clearly at all.

He smiled wider, and I knew I wasn't imagining the indulgent tilt to it. "You can ask as many as you would like. I'm warning you now, you won't get any in tomorrow."

That made me feel nervous, but I decided it was Future Bella's problem for now.

"Well, I guess it's that diet question that we keep circling around."

Edward's face turned serious. "Ah, that one. We haven't talked about it properly, have we?"

"No," I hummed. "I mean, it doesn't really matter to me. I know why you feed from animals, I know what you've said about still wanting human blood, but I'm still sort of trying to picture it. You said you were out hunting animals this weekend?"

"We were," he confirmed. "We had a very successful trip, especially by Eleanor's standards. We found quite a few bears."

I remembered that McKayla had mentioned the area around Goat Rocks had a lot of bears, but the confirmation that that was on the menu, for lack of a better phrase, was still startling.

"Is that... something you like?" I asked tentatively.

He shrugged noncommittally. "I don't mind them, but they're more Ellie's preference. They do make a nice change from elk and deer, which is our usual fare when we can only hunt closer to home. We generally have to roam a bit to find the good game."

"Do you have a... preference?"

"I like mountain lions, when I can get them." He was watching my face carefully as he spoke, probably trying to gauge my reaction again. "That isn't very often though, and we have to be careful not to have too big of an impact on local ecosystems."

I couldn't claim to be an expert on hunting, but I knew a bit from listening to Charlie and his friends. My dad preferred to fish, but I knew quite a few of his colleagues had gun licenses which didn't just cover the firearms they carried for work. "I guess you have to pay attention to what's in season and stuff, right?"

Edward chuckled slightly. "Actually, we pay more heed to the conservation organisations than the hunting regulations. The laws only cover hunting with weapons, after all."

I frowned. "How to you hunt a bear without a weapon?"

In response, he flashed his teeth. "Let's just say our weapons are a little more... unconventional. Not the sort of thing the parks service considers in their legislation."

I shuddered very slightly, but I was overwhelmingly curious. "Can I see you hunt sometime?"

Abruptly, he was angry, teeth gritted and expression edging on murderous again. "Absolutely not."

I winced at the low growling undertone of his voice and looked down, feeling like a chastised child. I tried to pull my hand away, but he held onto it, a gentle yet firm pressure.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said softly, full of contrition. "But when we're hunting... there's no control in that moment. I'm all instinct, all reaction to my senses, especially smell. If you were anywhere around me in that state..."

"Bad things," I finished for him. "Never mind then. I'm sorry for asking."

He shook his head. "It's alright. You're allowed to be curious, Bella. Anyone would be in your position." His head tipped to the side and his eyes unfocused a little, then he smiled slightly. "Our siblings are eavesdropping again. They would both like to reassure you that Beau asked all the same questions and got roughly the same answers."

I felt myself turning pink at the idea of Beau and Edythe listening in. "Well, that's going to get old really fast. How do you put up with it?"

Edward shrugged. "Over eighty years without anything resembling privacy? We all have very sensitive hearing, being listened to or overheard is just something we've all had to get used to. Besides, I'm far worse. Even at a distance where I can't hear people speaking, I can often still hear their thoughts. Edythe needs visual contact for her ability but she's long past being shy about using it. The others are all very used to having the two of us thoroughly embroiled in their business, especially Carine since she's known us the longest. Add Alice and Jasper to the mix and there's no hope for anyone. We agreed on having no secrets some time ago."

I smiled just a little at that. "Beau and I promised no secrets too. Although, I guess this whole situation has proved we can keep things from each other, when we want to."

He hummed. "You didn't tell him about the van. I'll admit, I thought you might. So did he, actually, he was rather disappointed when you didn't."

"You asked me not to," I pointed out. "And he didn't tell me about Edythe and the rest of you, which I sort of get, although he did mention there was people who would cause trouble if they we knew, which I don't fully understand. Someone's going to have to explain that to me at some point."

"Of course. Perhaps not tonight though? It's rather a long story."

"Alright," I agreed. "I do think we need to find some way of having these conversations in private though. I'm not going to be able to forget that they're listening now."

Edward huffed a little laugh. "That may be a losing battle, I'm afraid. But on that note, I was going to ask you something, if I may."

"Of course, what is it?"

"Are you set on going to Seattle on Saturday, or do you mind if we do something else?"

My interest was well and truly piqued. Part of me had genuinely forgotten our plans for the weekend. "What did you have in mind?"

"The weather is going to be nice again, so it's better I stay out of human sight. You could stay with me, if you want."

Two weekends of sunshine in a row – that had to be some kind of record for Forks.

"Just us?" I confirmed.

He took it differently than it was meant. "Your brother and my sister could join us if you prefer. If that would make you feel safer. I understand that being completely alone with me might be-"

I cut him off. "No, no! Didn't I just say I wanted to get away from them? I'm not afraid to be alone with you, if that's what you're thinking."

He looked suddenly very unhappy. "You should be. I'm really not safe for you, Bella."

I shook my head firmly. "No, we're done with that now. We've covered this already. You've had more than enough opportunities to snap or whatever, and you haven't."

"That doesn't mean that I won't," he argued. "The future is never certain, Bella. Being Alice's brother has taught me that much."

I reached up to touch his face again, and this time he didn't pull away. "Please, try to have the faith in you that I do. If you can't, that's okay, I get it. I mean, we barely know each other in the grand scheme of things. But I know that when I'm with you, what you might do to hurt me is the last thing on my mind."

He still looked upset, but he leaned just slightly into my hand. "What I wouldn't give to see inside that mind, just for a moment. Maybe I would have your faith, if I could hear it for myself. Regardless, I will do my best to have a more positive outlook. I make no promises, you understand?"

I nodded, happy with this compromise, and dropped my hand. "I do. And yes, I'm okay if we do something else on Saturday. Only..."

"Yes?"

"Can I drive? If we're not going as far as Seattle then your carbon footprint argument isn't as big a deal, right? And Charlie will be fishing, but I told him I was taking the truck and if he comes home early and it's there..."

He was amused now. "You don't want to tell him that you're out with me? He does know me already, and he would hardly object. Not without knowing the truth, of course."

"He likes your family, and he certainly has a soft spot for Edythe," I allowed, intentionally ignoring his last comment. "But I think it might be a bit different with me. I hate to accuse my dad of having double standards but... well, I just think he might have a bit more of an opinion on who his daughter dates than his son. Less is more with Charlie – what he doesn't know, he can't worry about."

Or tell my mother about, I added mentally. I had never realised before living here just how much my parents shared with each other. I supposed it was because I was here now and Renée was checking in on me, but I wondered if they had always called each other so often to swap stories. It was almost enough to make me wish they didn't get on so well.

Edward thought about my words for a moment. "You make a valid point. I confess I've observed a frightening overcompensation when it comes to some men and their daughters. They can struggle to see them as more than the little girls that they remember from their childhood. All the same, if this is something you want to last then he's going to have to be introduced to me at some point. As more than Edythe's brother, that is."

My heart soared at the idea of what 'this' could entail, and how long it might last, not to mention the potential extent of 'more'. "True, but... maybe not this Saturday? Or, you know, completely out of the blue and likely to give him a heart attack."

"Not to worry," he said with another indulgent smile. I knew those ought to make me feel patronised or pandered to, but for some reason I didn't mind them. "I won't cause your father any undue stress. I'll concede to taking the beast this weekend."

It looked like the idea physically pained him, and I couldn't help being a bit indignant on the truck's behalf.

"It is not that bad. Don't forget, it came out of its tussle with Tyler's van nearly unscathed."

"Please, don't remind me," he said with a martyred look. "I'm still haunted by that godforsaken accident."

"Don't be," I insisted. "I'm okay, and if you think about it, that led to this." I squeezed his marble-hard hand. "I don't know about you, but I'm pretty happy about that."

That got me the smile back. "I can't say I object."

We stood in silence for a minute, just looking at each other with soft smiles, until a huge yawn split my lips and made him laugh.

"Alright," I said when I had control over my mouth again. "I think I'm ready to sleep now. Will you read to me tonight?"

"If you would like me to."

In response, I just went to my bedside table where he'd carefully placed the book when he left last night. I didn't let go of his hand, and though I couldn't claim to be strong enough to make him move like his sister had, he followed along behind me once again. I handed him Austen and reluctantly let go at last to climb into bed. He stayed close tonight, not crossing to the rocker but settling onto the floor, leaning against the side of the bed, one arm up on the bedspread about at the level of my waist, one knee bent up and the book balanced by the corner on top of it. As he began to read, picking up from chapter two of Pride & Prejudice (though I was still fairly sure I hadn't been awake for that much) I slowly and carefully reached out, making plenty of noise gliding my hands across the covers and giving him ample time to move away. When he didn't, I summoned my courage and gently threaded my fingers into the hair at the crown of his head. He paused in his reading for half a second, then went on. I stayed still and listened for about a minute before I started tenderly running my fingers through the remarkably soft copper strands. So we stayed, him quietly reading while I caressed his hair, as my eyes grew heavier and fell closed. I felt my hand go still, resting on top of his head, but he kept reading.

Finally, when I was right on the edge of unconsciousness, there was another cold brush across my forehead, and the richest voice whispering, "Sweet dreams, Bella. Until tomorrow."

I think I hummed in agreement, but before my brain could process the sound to be sure, I was asleep.

Wednesday dawned blessedly, beautifully clouded. What a difference a weekend could make; I was as happy to see grey skies that day as I had been about the sunshine on Saturday, perhaps even more so. This was more than a little day trip. This was the return to rightness of all aspects of my life. I just knew school would be significantly more bearable with him there.

I was practically bouncing down the stairs and Beau was grinning at me all morning but didn't make a comment. Unfortunately, we'd both somehow managed to sleep in and were running late, so we didn't have the time to discuss any of last night – namely, the small matter of boundaries. I still hadn't forgotten Edward's comment about eavesdropping.

The first shock of the day came when we left the house. We were in a rush, Beau making a beeline for the truck while I stopped to hurriedly lock the door. I was halfway down the driveway, double checking that my English paper was definitely in my bag for about the fourth time, when I walked straight into his back; he'd stopped dead.

"Beau!" I complained, stepping around him. "A little warning maybe?"

Then I saw what he'd stopped for, and my ire faded. Parked behind the truck against the curb was the familiar silver Volvo and leaning on the doors with matching amused expressions were Edward and Edythe. Both my brother and I were staring at them, probably with our own matching looks of complete dumbfoundedness.

"Good morning," Edward called when it was clear neither of us were going to start the conversation. Edythe waved, then skipped lightly up the drive to meet us; Edward ambled closer in a much more sedate manner.

Edythe pecked Beau on the cheek. "Why so startled, love? I texted you that we were coming."

Shaken out of his freeze, Beau fumbled in his pocket for his phone, then turned pink when he checked it. "So you did. Sorry, I missed it, we've been in a mad rush this morning."

She laughed at him, though not unkindly. "Well then I guess we'd better get going if we want the monster to get us to class on time." At his thoroughly perplexed expression, she elaborated. "You're giving me a ride this morning, silly."

"If you don't mind riding with me," Edward chipped in, addressing me. I couldn't quite tell from his face whether that was what he wanted or not. My mind was made up pretty quickly – any excuse to spend more one on one time with him was something to take advantage of without hesitation.

"Sure," I replied, thankfully recovered enough from my shock to sound breezy and unaffected. I turned to Beau. "See you in English?"

He had calmed down too, giving me a smile as he threaded his fingers through Edythe's. "Yup, see you there." He started tugging her towards the truck. "Is this repaying all those free rides from last year?"

"It's a start," she shot back cheekily, leaning into his side, then gracefully accepted the hand up into the cab that she probably didn't need while he held her door for her, the perfect gentleman. Had I not had the last two evenings under my belt, I might have felt jealous of them and their ease around each other, given how rife with tension things still were between Edward and me. Even now, he was leaving a few feet between us. But instead, I just felt hopeful. Though no one had said so in as many words, I could only imagine that once upon a time, Edythe and Beau had been similar to us. I knew there had been a lot of the same questions, but perhaps there had also been the same caution and tentativeness, worries about how far to push and exactly what questions were okay, concern about revealing too much. Edward had mentioned that Edythe had faced censure from the family, which he was apparently getting too. Now though, my brother and his girlfriend were completely fine. One day, maybe we would be the same.

'One day' was still far away at the moment, so it was with a distinct air of shyness that I turned to Edward. Somehow, despite the confidence I was managing to project when we were face to face, every time I was away from him, I still worried about what I would be faced with when we saw each other again. I was beginning to trust that I could keep him reassured when I could speak to him, but when he was away from me – and worst of all, when I was asleep – there was nothing I could do to mediate whatever wild anxiety trip his brain decided to take him on. This morning though, he seemed calm enough.

"Shall we?" he asked pleasantly, gesturing to his car. I realised that the truck was already roaring away, and I hadn't moved.

"Let's go," I agreed.

He held my door, checking that I was situated before he closed it. Then he was around to the driver's seat before I could get my seat belt on. The inside of the car was a little too warm; looking at the dash I saw that the heat had been cranked all the way up. I remembered my thought last night about him not feeling temperature in the same way and wondered why he'd done it.

"Can I turn this down?" I asked as he twisted the key in the ignition, indicating the heat dial.

He looked a little surprised, then concerned. "Is it set wrong? I don't usually use it, but I didn't want you to be cold."

My heart melted a little at that. "Thank you. It's warmed up plenty though, it can stand to be turned down some."

"Then please, be my guest. Whatever makes you comfortable."

As he pulled away from the curb, the low purr of his car's engine a stark contrast to the noise that I was used to, I twisted the dial until it was just past the midpoint, not quite enough to make the AC kick in, but the vents stopped blowing out hot air. I cracked my window open to help things cool down a little more.

Edward looked embarrassed. It was an odd look that I wasn't used to from him; he was usually so confident. "I'm sorry. Edythe tried to tell me it was too much, but I was being stubborn."

I giggled a little, easily able to picture that exchange. "It's okay. It was good of you to think of it."

He smiled bashfully. We were moving quickly through town and I wouldn't be surprised if we passed the others before we got to school.

"So, how did you spend the rest of your night?" I asked after a moment.

His smile turned into a smirk. "Oh no, it's my turn for questions today, remember?"

I made a face. "Right. I have no idea what you want to know. It's not like there's anything special to unravel about me."

That comment got me a look of his that I was getting very familiar with – the incredulous one that said, 'are you crazy?' as plainly as if he'd actually said it out loud. Of course he was far too polite for that... most of the time.

"I beg to differ. There is a lot about you that I want to figure out."

"Like what?"

"What's your favourite colour?"

The question was so unexpected that I actually laughed out loud. But he was waiting patiently for a genuine answer, so I pulled myself together and told him, "It changes a lot, pretty much every day."

"What is it today?" he pressed.

I thought about it, willing to play along if this was really the sort of thing he wanted to know. "I'd have to say brown."

Edward raised an eyebrow at that. "Brown?"

"It's warm," I explained. "And it reminds me a lot of stuff that I miss from home. There's too much green around here, it covers all the brown stuff."

He hummed. "You're right, I suppose. I do agree that brown is warm."

His hand reached out and caught a curl of my hair, twisting it through his fingers like he had the other night. I took the chance to run my own fingertips over the back of his hand. He was watching me a bit too closely for my liking, considering he was driving, but his eyes had returned to the road before I could prompt him.

"What music do you like?" was the next question, delivered with all the sincerity and seriousness of a criminal interrogation.

"All kinds of stuff. Some classical, but you knew that already. I'm not really a bubble-gum pop sort of girl but there's some half decent stuff on top forty. I prefer more indie bands, I guess."

He asked me about specific groups and artists, and I rattled off a few names off the top of my head. We were pulling into the parking lot and, as I'd predicted, the truck was nowhere in sight, although I couldn't recall passing it. Glancing at the clock, I saw I was no longer late. Edward manoeuvred skilfully around the other cars and students, taking a spot next to a flashy car that I had never seen before. It was bright red, very new looking, a convertible – completely impractical in Forks weather – and already garnering curious looks and envious stares from the people around us, mostly boys.

"Who's is that?" I asked.

Edward looked annoyed. "Rosalie's. The others had to drive themselves today. What CD do you have in your stereo right now?"

The abrupt subject change was slightly jarring, and I had to think for a minute before I realised I'd never taken out the album I was playing on Saturday night. I told him the name and he grinned, then popped open a compartment in the centre console that had a few dozen CD cases crammed inside. He pulled out exactly the same album, still smiling.

"First Debussy, now this. We have something else in common." The idea seemed to make him happy. I rather liked it too.

A roar behind us alerted me to the arrival of our siblings. The truck pulled into the space on the other side of us, sandwiching us between it and the shiny red car. I got out while Edward stowed the CD and the four of us gathered on the sidewalk.

"Sounds like you've been abusing the beast," I commented to Beau with just a hint of reproach. "That was definitely a worse noise than it usually makes."

Beau held up his hands in surrender and pointed one finger down at Edythe. "She made me."

Edythe stuck her tongue out at him. Somehow even this most juvenile act seemed graceful and pretty when she did it. "It's so slow. I don't know why you won't let me buy you something new."

Beau moved his hands down to his hips and arched an eyebrow at her. "You want to explain that to Charlie?"

Even I cringed at that idea.

"Speaking of making a scene..." Edward chimed in, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the red car. "Any idea how that happened?"

Edythe sighed heavily, a long-suffering expression on her face. "I told them they could take my car. But you know Rose, any excuse to show off and make her displeasure known at the same time. She's just being petty."

"Why does she ride with you at all if she has that?" I asked. Edward had claimed today as his day for questions, but I had no such deal with his sister.

"We try to stay inconspicuous," she explained, her wry look making it clear she knew it wasn't working. "But we all like to go fast, when we can."

"Pro tip: never watch the speedometer while one of these two is driving," Beau advised, his tone somewhere between a good-natured tease and a genuine warning. "I about had a heart attack the first time we drove to Port Angeles. What were you at, Edythe, about 110?"

My eyes bugged out of my head. "Holy crow! What is wrong with you?"

Both Cullens groaned audibly.

"Not you too," Edward complained. "I'm going have to keep it under 80 when you're in the car, aren't I?"

"Maybe try under the speed limit?" I offered pointedly. "Traffic laws exist for a reason, and we were raised to obey them."

"Yeah, you're out of luck on that, Edward," Beau added. "Bells is more like Charlie than I am. Always a stickler for the rules."

I punched him lightly in the arm. "Shut up, idiot, you're not exactly laid back."

"Tell me about it," Edythe said, the martyr returning.

Beau didn't respond in words, just pulled her into a tighter hug and stole a kiss, then started leading the way towards the buildings. It was like the other morning all over again – the happy couple leading the way while Edward and I trailed behind. Except today we were a solid half foot closer to each other. Today, I wasn't annoyed and confused, and he wasn't being infuriating. He threw a few more questions at me while we walked, mundane things about movies and books. I answered quickly and honestly, but I was getting distracted. As we walked, it was as if we left some kind of protective bubble. I'd been focused only on the four of us and our conversation. If I was being honest, I hadn't really paid much mind to anyone else for the last two days. Now, I was realising that there were eyes on us – a lot of them. I spotted McKayla and Jeremy standing by the rarely used picnic tables between the cafeteria and the parking lot; Jeremy's eyes looked they were about to fall out of his head and McKayla's jaw was practically on the floor. I cringed, just knowing that I was in for a far less welcome interrogation as soon as she got me alone.

"What are you thinking?" Edward asked, studying my expression.

"It's nothing," I tried to deflect him. "Nothing important, anyway."

"I wish you wouldn't do that," he complained.

"Do what?"

"You act as if your thoughts aren't worth sharing, that they haven't any significance."

I arched one eyebrow at him. "I take it you disagree."

"Emphatically," he confirmed. "I always want to know what you're thinking. It's still very frustrating not to hear it for myself."

I laughed. "You know most people have to get by like that all the time."

"Oh, I'm very aware of that. It's painful to listen to."

"Well, I do tell you what I'm thinking more often than not." I made a face, remembering the number of times that the sheer force of his eyes had had me blurting out truths I'd never shared with anyone, even Beau.

"You edit." It came out like an accusation.

"Not a lot," I insisted, deciding not to let him know just how much of an impact he could have on my equilibrium.

"Enough to drive me insane. Or you deflect and change the subject, like you're doing now." He gave me an arch look. "So I ask again, what thought had you looking so perturbed?"

I pursed my lips and considered not answering; we were almost at English, and I could just walk away if I wanted to. But something in his eyes told me he wasn't going to let it go and I would only be deferring the conversation until later.

I sighed. "We're just attracting a lot of attention, that's all. McKayla is going to want to know every detail, and I don't know what I'm telling her."

He hummed, giving that point some serious thought, his head titled to the side and his eyes ever so slightly unfocused. Was he listening to her, picking out her mental voice among hundreds to see what she would ask?

"Any chance of a heads up?" I asked. "You know, on what exactly she's going to ask?"

Edward smiled, his eyes dancing with amusement. "Now who's looking for an unfair advantage?"

I shrugged. "I have to use what resources I have at my disposal. No sense in wasting it. So?"

"She has some speculation about whether we're dating, and how long for. And she wants to know how you feel about me."

I blanched. I was not ready for that question. My feelings had certainly been solidifying over the last few days and the revelation of my love for him had settled from the lightning bolt of realisation into a warm certainty. But I wasn't ready to talk to him about that yet, never mind putting it in teenage girl appropriate terms that wouldn't make me look crazy or obsessive.

"What do I say?" I wondered out loud.

"Well, yes, to the first part, if you don't mind of course." He looked calm, but there was a nervous slant to his eyes. I realised that this was his way of genuinely asking if I wanted to go out with him. I smiled and nodded, my heart fluttering happily.

"For the length of time, I would keep it vague, just say it's new. She saw us getting closer last week so it shouldn't be too much of a shock. And the third point..."

We stopped outside my English class. I was dimly aware of our siblings saying their goodbyes on the other side of the door, using their lips for something other than talking. Edward reached out and twisted a strand of my hair back into the messy bun I'd thrown it into in my rush to get out the door. I shivered slightly as his fingers brushed my neck. The crooked smile that I was becoming increasingly attached to appeared, one side of his mouth curling up.

"I'll be listening for the answer to that one," he said in a low, intense voice that made my breath catch in my throat. Then he turned abruptly and walked away, throwing a casual, "See you at lunch," over his shoulder. Several people walking past stopped in their tracks, watched him for a few seconds before turning shocked, searching gazes on me. I felt my cheeks go pink and hurried into class. Beau followed a moment later, his goofy grin firmly in place. We were just settled into our seats when, as if on cue, McKayla slid into the row in front of us, her eyes eager and burning with curiosity.

"Oh. MY. God. SPILL."

I sighed and prayed I could pull this off. "About what?"

She looked exasperated. "You are not playing dumb with me right now. Edward Cullen drove you to school."

"No, really?" I said, leaning heavy on the sarcasm; I'd found in the past few months that it could go over the heads of some of my new friends. "I thought I just teleported here."

"Bella!" she whined. "Come on, give me something. Did you ask him to pick you up?"

"No, it was a surprise," I told her honestly, ignoring the way my brother was shaking with silent laughter next to me. I tried to subtly elbow him in the ribs but came up short – he was too far away.

My transparency disappointed McKayla, but she wasn't deterred.

"So, are you like, boyfriend and girlfriend now? Is there some adorable twin thing going on?"

"Edythe and Edward aren't twins," I pointed out, obviously stalling.

She flapped one hand dismissively. "You know what I mean, now answer the question before I explode!"

I shrugged. "We haven't used those words, exactly." Those big, scary, important sounding words that seemed at the same time far too small for what was going on between us. "But he offered to drive me to Seattle on Saturday to spare the truck, which I guess counts as a date?"

I made it a question on purpose, deferring to her expertise on the matter of all things boys. No need to mention that he had changed the plan. I made a mental note to ask him exactly what we were doing instead, when I was allowed to ask questions again.

"Absolutely!" She was clearly extremely satisfied with that response. Then she started flapping her hands rapidly, as if trying to swat a persistent fly.

"Have you kissed yet?" she asked in an excited stage whisper.

"I'll take 'Things I don't need to hear about' for five hundred, Alex," Beau piped up, only half kidding, I could tell.

"You are not part of this conversation," McKayla snapped, waving him away.

"No, it's not like that," I answered her question. She deflated disappointedly.

I set about organising my stuff; Ms Mason had just come in and she was always eminently punctual. Unfortunately, she didn't immediately call the class to attention and McKayla wasn't done yet.

"When did you guys even start talking?" she wondered, suspicion returning. "I mean, before last week you hadn't talked since the accident, right?"

"I guess he changed his mind and wanted to get to know me better. Don't ask me why," I said honestly. "Look, Kay, it's all very new, okay? We're still figuring things out.

"Alright, I get it, I'll butt out... for now." Her scheming expression promised future inquisitions. "You like him though, right?"

"Yes," I admitted, dropping down to a whisper as Ms Mason called for quiet. "A lot more than he likes me."

She gave me an appropriately sympathetic look but was kept from further comment by the start of attendance, turning around to face the front. Beau nudged me slightly and when I glanced at him, he was frowning. I gave him a quizzical look. In response, he reached over and quickly scrawled Not true in the corner of my notebook.

I stared at the words for a few moments, considering what they might mean. Ms Mason's voice just about penetrated my distraction and I answered to my name and started to take notes reflexively, but I wasn't really listening.

Not true. A deceptively simple statement with enormous implications. Beau clearly believed that my feelings and Edward's weren't as unbalanced as I was certain they had to be. Of course, I knew that he cared, that was no longer really in question. But how could my brother be right? How on earth could someone like Edward be as hopelessly obsessed with me as I was with him?

There was a lull in Ms Mason's lecture as another student asked for clarification on a point and I took the opportunity to scribble my reply.

How do you know?

I tapped my pen twice against the corner of my notebook, simultaneously aiming for subtlety and hoping my brother would see. I had struck the right balance; he glanced down, but no one else seemed to notice. He gave me a look that said 'really?' as clearly as if he'd spoken it out loud, then reached across to add his next contribution.

It's obvious. Open your eyes.

What exactly was that supposed to mean? I couldn't help feeling insulted – did he think I was being deliberately obtuse about the whole thing?

What am I looking for? I wrote, indulging him if only to figure out what the hell his point was.

He just rolled his eyes and shook his head. Too much to write. Tell you later.

Well, that was frustrating. Why did all the men in my life suddenly feel the need to be so cryptic and evasive? Charlie was fairly straightforward at least. God help me if he started prevaricating too.

I wanted to argue, but Ms Mason had started circling the room as she read aloud dramatically from her copy of The Canterbury Tales and I was afraid she would see us. I folded over the conversation, hoping it looked like I was simply marking a place in my notes, and refocused on the lesson as best as I could.

I wasn't able to catch Beau alone to have the 'later' discussion for the rest of the morning. We were surrounded by our friends as we walked to Government and then went our separate ways from third hour. In Calculus, Jeremy nervously asked me if McKayla had said anything about their date on Monday night; I vaguely remembered her doing some gushing about it on the shopping trip and was able to give him enough of a positive report to make him smile and look pleased with himself.

In Spanish, I started to get nervous. Edward had said he'd see me at lunch, but did that mean he would be joining our group today? Would he be waiting at a table on his own again? I didn't think for a moment that he would want us both to sit with his siblings, given how he was apparently in several of their bad books at the moment. He had said they all agreed it was inevitable that I would find out the truth, but I didn't fool myself for a moment into thinking that meant they were okay with it.

More to the point, would he still be asking questions? And if so, what in the world would they be about?

As we filed out of the classroom – running late as usual – there seemed to be a lot of commotion at the door. People kept stopping, making others plough into them and start arguing. Yet every conversation seemed to die as soon as they reached the exit. Jeremy and McKayla, walking hand in hand in a decidedly showy way, were right in front of me and turned to glance over their shoulders when they saw whatever it was. Jeremy looked perplexed, but McKayla was smug and knowing. I hurried through behind them to see what all the fuss was about.

Edward was leaning casually against the wall just opposite our Spanish room, drawing stares but ignoring everything around him like the people weren't even there. When he saw me, his mouth pulled up in that beautiful half smile and I felt something in me melt.

Jeremy opened his mouth, probably to ask a question, but McKayla cut him off by starting to hurry away, dragging him behind her like a dog on a leash.

"Have a good lunch, Bella!" she called out in a significant tone as she left.

I felt the blush warming my cheeks as a few people turned to stare at me, their attention drawn by her decidedly not quiet voice. Trying – but not really succeeding – to blank them all the way he did, I crossed the hallway to meet Edward.

"Hi," I said shyly, feeling apprehensive already. Would he want to ask me about my conversation with McKayla? He'd warned me that he would be listening.

"Hello," he replied, still smiling. "How was your morning?"

I shrugged. "Same old, same old. Yours?"

"The same. Shall we?"

He gestured in the direction of the cafeteria, and we started walking. People were still very much staring, more so as more and more classes let out for lunch. Whether to distract me or simply because he wanted to get on with his inquisition, Edward started asking me more questions. He wanted to know about places where I had been and where I wanted to go in the future. He seemed mildly aghast when I admitted I'd never left the country, or really the western states for that matter. The stream of queries continued into the line for food, and it wasn't until we were nearly at the register that I realised how much he had put on the tray.

"Is that all for me?" I asked him in hushed tones. Perhaps he was overcompensating again, like with the heating in his car this morning.

He arched an eyebrow and smiled very slightly. "Of course not. Some of it is for me."

He'd paid before I could get my wallet out of my bag, waving off my protests, then led the way towards the tables. My hope for another private lunchtime was realised; he bypassed my group's table and didn't go anywhere near his siblings. McKayla had obviously filled everyone in, because there was a note of expectation in the shocked looks from Angela, Erica and Tyler. Logan glared at me as usual for half a second, before I saw Edward's head twist just slightly in his direction. The next moment, Logan was looking the other way and Edward was continuing to walk as if nothing had happened. My brother was looking smug again, smirking as he lolled back in his seat with his arm around Edythe. He winked at me as we passed, and I rolled my eyes back. Edythe offered me an encouraging smile, which I returned. Perhaps out of habit, I glanced over at the other Cullens at their usual table. They were doing their everyday routine of staring at nothing in particular, apart from Rosalie, who was shooting daggers at Edward. It was a look that seemed like it should do actual damage with how fierce it was, but he was pointedly ignoring her. As I watched, she began to turn away, stymied, then clearly realised I was watching her and redoubled the glare on me. I was far more affected by her fury than her brother had been; I cringed away from the look, reflexively tried to hide behind my hair, then realised it was still tied up and, distracted, caught my toe on the linoleum, stumbling slightly. Edward reached out, apparently on instinct, and steadied me before guiding me gently into a seat at the nearest mostly empty table. The seniors at the other end of it stared at us but hurriedly turned away at a glance from Edward, and they were too far away to listen in to any conversation we might have.

"Are you alright?" Edward asked, the picture of concern as he sat down opposite me.

I nodded mutely, not entirely sure I was being honest. In an effort to regain some composure, I took a deep breath and sat up a bit straighter, tucking the one loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"Ignore her," Edward advised, pointedly doing so himself. "Like Edythe said this morning, she's annoyed and lashing out. It's nothing personal." He slid the tray towards me. "Help yourself to whatever you'd like."

"I know it's not my day, but can I ask just one question?" I pleaded.

He sighed like it pained him, just a hint of apprehension in his eyes, and held up a single elegant white finger. "Just one."

"Can you actually eat food? I mean, I know you guys buy lunch every day, but I've never seen you eat any of it."

He made a face. "You don't want to hear about that, especially when you are about to eat." He pointedly pushed the tray closer to me again. "Please."

I picked up a slice of pizza and took a very ostentatious bite, chewed and swallowed. "I'm not squeamish. Tell me."

Edward shook his head at me and mumbled something that sounded distinctly like, "Impossible." Then he squared his shoulders a bit and spoke at a normal volume.

"Mechanically speaking, yes, I can eat. I can bite and chew and swallow, but after that, it doesn't... go anywhere, if you catch my drift. It has no nutritional value. Besides which, most of the processes and systems of the human body have shut down for us, including digestion."

I understood what he was saying. "So it just sits in your stomach?"

"Precisely," he said with a nod, then a cringe. "It's a very unpleasant state to rectify."

I decided against daring him to take a bite of my pizza and took one myself instead. He watched the motion with very thinly veiled disgust.

"Why bother buying lunch then?" I wondered. "If you aren't going to eat it, it seems like a terrible waste of food and money."

He shrugged one shoulder. "We have to keep up appearances. Would it make you feel better to know that our groceries go to the food bank in Port Angeles?"

"A little bit," I admitted. "This is still too much food for two people, by the way. Let me get my own lunch tomorrow." I grinned. "I'll teach you some portion control."

"Duly noted. Is your curiosity satisfied?" he asked as I finished the slice and reached for a blueberry muffin.

"For now. Is yours?"

He smirked. "Not even close."

With that, he launched right back into the questioning. I couldn't imagine what he could be gaining from some of them – they just seemed completely random. Perhaps there was some importance that I couldn't understand without the benefit of years of hindsight. The alternative explanation was that he really did care about my favourite shampoo scent and the meals I least enjoyed cooking. He seemed particularly fascinated by the rant about complicated food prep that resulted from that line of questioning. Despite all the food he'd bought, I barely had time to eat with the amount he was having me talk. I didn't like how much was looking set to go straight in the trash untouched, so I made sure to pocket a few of the more portable items for later. If I didn't eat them, Beau certainly would – the boy was a bottomless pit when it came to food.

All the way through lunch, the questions continued, picking up speed. It was starting to feel like a game of word association, like I had to say the first thing that came to mind, which had the potential to be very dangerous indeed. When I didn't have time to think about my answers, I was far more likely to say something stupid. The dazzling quality of his perpetually curious gaze wasn't helping either.

Finally, he stopped and stood.

"We should get going," he commented, sounding only mildly disappointed. "We're going to be late."