A bit late with the weekend update but better late-ish than never. Thank you for the reviews.

Five

"Are you sure you don't want to go to the game?" Alice asked, hovering in the doorway. I was standing impatiently on the porch, waiting for her.

"C'mon, Alice," I grumbled. "Jasper's been blowing up my phone for the last twenty minutes." I glanced down at the cell in my hand, trying to drive home the point. "We're going to be late."

"I've got a ton of work to catch up on," Esme smiled from her position on the couch. A laptop was perched on her knees, the floor plan for some office displayed across the screen. "You kids have fun, though."

"Fine," Alice pouted. I was already halfway down the porch steps, glancing over my shoulder to glower at her.

"You know," I started, "it's probably a break for her—not having to cook dinner for us—"

"And run interference between you and Emmett," Alice stuck her tongue out at me as she slid into the passenger seat of the Volvo and tugged at the seat belt.

"That wouldn't be necessary if Emmett wasn't a total dick sometimes," I replied as I shifted into first gear. I resisted the urge to speed down the long, winding drive to Solduc Road since Esme was home and would hear the rev of the car's engine.

"So are you." The imminently reasonable tone of Alice's voice silenced me, my frown focused on the gravel road—even though I could have driven down it blindfolded. "Besides, since when do you jump at the chance to go to a school event?" I could sense her peering at me from the passenger seat, and my shoulders instinctively rose up around my ears.

Since she'd already dismissed my arguments about giving Esme a break, I couldn't think of what to say. And I suspected my silence was only making Alice more suspicious, because she was being far too quiet herself. Regardless, I finally shrugged, my voice non-committal as I replied, "If it keeps Emmett from bugging us about going to Mike Newton's kegger, I can deal with it."

The silence went on, and I could feel my chest getting tight in anticipation of Alice's interrogation. As we reached the road, I kept my expression blank as I looked both ways for traffic, catching a glimpse of Alice's face in the gloom of the car.

"If you say so," she finally replied as she reached for her phone and began scanning for music. She was thankfully silent until Bjork's voice started warbling through the car speakers.

My luck held out as we sped towards the highway that would take us into town. Either Alice was feeling generous, or was too into the music to keep pestering me, belting along to the lyrics, her small hands gesturing with surprising force.

"I'm going hunting," she nearly growled. "I am the hunter!" I couldn't help grinning at the fierceness in her soprano voice. "I'll bring back the goods," she promised. Then, shaking her head, "But I don't know when."

I resisted the urge to ask if there was anything particular on her mind, eventually getting lost in the music myself as street lights started to break up the darkness on the approach into town.

All that no one sees

You see

What's inside of me

It wasn't until we got to the stadium and I swung out of the car that I realized something was off. I hesitated, glancing around the parking lot, the cheering and clamor of the crowd in the stadium a faint roar in my ears. "What's up?" Alice asked, slamming the passenger door behind her.

"Nothing," I lied, my gaze falling to my feet as I headed towards the entrance.

I should have felt like shit. I should have been gritting my teeth so hard that the muscles in my jaw were spasming. I should have been figuring out excuses to leave early before we'd even found Jasper and Rosalie on the bleachers, avoiding the curious, bemused, or disdainful stares from the other students crowded in the stands. Instead, I felt oddly relaxed, mutely following Alice under the arched gate that led into the stadium.

There had been a few times that we'd all agreed to sit on the opposite side of the stadium with the opposing team; I pushed away the realization that I was relieved no one had suggested that smart-ass move tonight. Instead, I simply followed Alice into the stands, resisting the urge to peer around at the sea of students making up the crowd.

"Why do they always sit in the nose bleed section?" Alice grumbled as she caught sight of Jasper and Rosalie.

"Who knows?" I shrugged, following her up the concrete steps to where the Hales were sitting. It was safer to scan the crowd as we climbed up towards the highest bleachers; Alice wasn't looking, and I could pretend I was peering out at the field if she did. Only half of the crowd was actually watching the game, everyone else laughing and chatting, eating the snacks sold by the concessions stand, or clowning around.

"Jasper!" Alice exclaimed as we reached the Hales. It was as if she hadn't seen him in weeks, instead of only the few hours since school had gotten out.

But he stood up and wrapped his arms around her, his smile warm as he murmured into her ear, "Sweetheart."

"Saps," Rosalie snorted, but she was smiling.

I settled down between Alice and Rosalie on the narrow bench seat, my elbows on my knees as I turned my gaze back to the crowd. My eyes narrowed as I scanned the faces visible. It was cold so a lot of people had beanies pulled low, the clapping of the crowd muted by gloves and mittens. "Emmett's playing defense since Kyle Novak twisted his ankle," Rosalie's voice broke into my silent searching and I almost started, glancing towards her with what I hoped wasn't a guilty look.

I quickly turned back to the field, pretending I'd been watching the game. "He's going to be totally beat, then, by the end of this," I replied, my gaze fixing on my brother's figure on the field. He usually played offensive guard but given the school's small student body, was forced to learn other positions for circumstances like this.

"Yeah, and so is the team," Rosalie softly laughed. We fell silent and I half-listened to Alice's chatter about the constellations we couldn't make out above the field due to the bright stadium lights. I glanced up to the sky before my gaze fell back to the crowd, fighting the urge to frown.

Then I saw her.

I quickly looked towards the field and then back in her direction, trying to avoid looking like I was staring. But it was her—Bella Swan—wedged between Eric Yorkie and Angela Weber on a crowded bleacher a few rows from the front. She was wearing an olive rain coat, a thick gray scarf wrapped around her neck, her brown hair spilling down her back. She turned, smiling at Angela, and I could see her cheeks were pink. Was it from the cold, or was she flushed for some other reason?

"You want to go grab some popcorn?" Rosalie's voice broke into my distracted thoughts. "I know you're bored by this shit, too."

"Sure," I quickly replied with a shrug as I rose to my feet. Then, I risked teasing Rosalie to make sure she wasn't at all focused on me. "You're not bored—you're just scared of Emmett getting hurt."

It was her turn to shrug, her expression resigned as she headed back down the narrow stairs past the rows of bench seats. "You're not wrong," she glanced over her shoulder, a wry half-smile curling over her mouth. "I'm not cut out to be a football player's girlfriend." She paused at the bottom of the stairs, briefly watching as the cheerleaders shouted and leapt in place down on the sidelines. It was cold enough that their breath was visible, teeth glinting through stiff, artificial grins.

Rosalie shook her head before continuing down the concrete walkway towards the gate. "Not enough money in the world…" she murmured.

"To pick up a pair of pom poms?" I couldn't even picture it, my hands shoved in my pockets as I followed her to the concessions stand. It was one small booth that was already crowded with students buying popcorn, nachos, and soda. A security guard lurked nearby, an off-duty Forks Police Department officer; I was sure he gave me a long look as we hovered at the back of the line.

"Right," Rosalie rolled her eyes. "I could never be that brainwashed."

"Haven't I heard you say feminism is about being able to decide if you want to wear a full face of make-up—or not?" I asked, giving her a dubious glance.

Rosalie turned her head so sharply that her long blond hair flipped over her shoulders. "It scares me to know you remember anything I say."

I held up my hands defensively. "I try to tune out you and Alice most of the time…"

Rosalie laughed, "I can't be mad at that." Her brown eyes narrowed, "Unless you've been trying to perfect your cat-eyeliner technique without any of us knowing."

It was my turn to laugh. "Maybe about as likely as you picking up pom poms."

We were nearly to the front of the line and Rosalie wrinkled her nose. "Now that I can see the popcorn, I don't actually want any."

I lifted a brow as we backed out of the line, ignoring the confused stares of the other students behind us. "You sure you weren't just avoiding seeing Emmett get tackled?"

"No," she shook her head, "I promise. Popcorn sounded good for a hot second but that fake butter—"

"Is the best part," I interjected. Rosalie just laughed, following as I led the way back into the stands.

"It's like a contest of what's more disgusting," she mused, "the fake butter on the popcorn, or the coagulated fake cheese on the nachos."

"Are you trying to get Emmett to break up with you?" I joked. "I'm sure that's heresy in his eyes."

We'd reached the highest bleachers and I stepped up onto the narrow bench seat, extending my arms for balance; I glanced down to where Bella was sitting and nearly stumbled as I realized she was looking in our direction. Luckily, Rosalie bumped me at almost the exact same moment, and I teetered dramatically as she laughed.

"That's what you get for joking Emmett would ever dump me," Rosalie laughingly warned. I just smiled, sinking down on the bench as we reached Alice and Jasper.

"If I mention how awesome it is when you guys get along, will that make it stop?" Alice asked, blue eyes bright and hopeful.

"Probably."

"Definitely."

Rosalie and I replied at the same time, prompting all of us to burst out laughing.

The mood was still light when the game ended. Alice hugged Jasper tightly before we parted ways, and Rosalie waved, "I'll wait for Emmett—tell him not to take it too hard before we head home." She glanced to Jasper, who nodded, hanging back with her at the gate.

"Cool." I turned away to weave through the crowd, throngs of students shuffling through the gate before spilling into the parking lot. The mood was ebullient even though the Spartans had lost, the conversations around me a mix of weekend plans, football chatter, and groans about curfew.

I belatedly realized I was looking for a decrepit old truck as I crossed the lot, my brow furrowing as I didn't find it. But just as I reached my car, I finally glimpsed her in the thinning crowd.

Maybe it was because her gaze was cast to the ground that I hadn't seen her at first. Or maybe it was that olive jacket, almost like camouflage against the throng of students. Too, she wasn't at all tall, easy to lose in the milling crowd. But once I saw her, I couldn't cut my gaze away, standing frozen next to the driver's side door of my car. The desire to know what she was thinking was overwhelming, studying her preoccupied expression as my frown deepened. It was as if she was mentally elsewhere, her gaze on her feet, her hands in her pockets, somehow…apart from the chattering, laughing, boisterous crowd.

But when I realized she was making her way towards Mike Newton's Suburban, my nostrils flared. That asshole.

The thought was violent and angry, an unwilling mental exclamation that somehow didn't make it out of my mouth. Instead, my hands curled into fists, my teeth clenching as I silently watched Bella approach the freshly washed SUV. My lips tightened as I saw she was riding shotgun.

But she hesitated, her gaze rising and seeming to find me across the lot. I couldn't move, my muscles locked, my fist so tight around the car key in my hand that I was sure the sharp edges were going to leave a mark on my palm.

Another student climbing into the car said something—it looked like Jessica Stanley—and the spell was broken. Bella's gaze snapped away, a nervous smile on her lips as she spoke words I couldn't hear.

I turned, climbing into the driver's seat and resisting the urge to slam the door shut behind me. I didn't look at Alice as I cranked the key in the ignition. I didn't want to face the curiosity likely evident in her face.

But she sounded concerned rather than intrigued when she spoke. "You alright?" The soft words dispelled the cloud of anger that had abruptly come over me.

"Yes. No." I bit back the words, twisting the wheel as I stomped on the gas. "It's nothing."

Alice was silent but I knew I'd just opened myself up to all kinds of interrogation. How could I justify the obvious good mood I'd been in at the game—even getting along with Rosalie?! What excuse could I come up with as to why my attitude had so clearly soured? Alice knew I didn't give a shit about the Spartans losing, and I clearly couldn't blame Rosalie…so I said nothing, clenching my teeth, waiting for the incessant questioning.

But Alice just laughed softly, her voice light as she replied, "If you say so, Edward."