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Bella

I'll always remember this day.

I'll remember how every moment mattered. Every choice I made, every thought I had … it all lined up to now, to this moment. Everything had to align in a complete, perfect arrangement in order to make this happen.

… This.

To have Edward's lips on mine for the first time. The sun setting against the dark water of First Beach. His hand against my cheek as our kiss deepens. The way the weather had been dark and raining in the morning but somehow warmed and gifted us with the sun later on.

I'll remember how cold the November sand feels between my toes as I step closer to him, his arms slowly wrapping around my waist. There's a thought, quick and brief, swirling in my head about how I have no idea what I'm doing, but I brush it away and focus on him and how I never thought this would ever happen to me.

And especially with Edward Cullen.

As the shock peels away, it's a protective coating over my brain, and I allow myself to feel it.

To feel everything.

… How soft his lips are on mine. Gentle, as if he knows this is all new to me. The way his hands on my back pull me closer, his breath against my lips and face as he pulls away, warming me against the frigid air.

His eyes flutter open, a small spark of bewilderment on his face, and I can understand why. This wasn't supposed to happen, these feelings between us, but we're here now. And it doesn't make any sense at all, and maybe it doesn't have to.

Maybe, without the confines of unwritten high school rules, we've managed to find pieces of ourselves in each other.

"You're smiling," he notes, once we've separated enough for him to get a look at my face. "Have you never been kissed before?"

If anyone else had asked, I would have been embarrassed—answered with a snarky fuck off. But it's him who's asking, and I've only ever been honest with him.

Why change that now?

"I haven't," I confirm. I look up now, the way the sun melts behind him and sets the copper strands of his hair on fire. It makes me want to be kissed by him all over again. He's doused in a fading orange as the day slips away, and maybe I'm still under the spell of his kiss, but I don't think I've ever seen him as beautiful as he is now.

He nods in understanding, shyly rubbing a hand on the back of his neck as a boyish smile plays on his lips. Seeing him falter is contagious, and soon I'm giggling nervously right along with him as we enter this new territory between us together.

Neither of us knows where this path will take us, but when he holds his hand out a few minutes later, I slide mine in his and trust him.

"Let me take you home."

-u-

I don't want to go home.

Now that I can say I've experienced one of life's rites of passage, actually kissing a boy, watching him leave is the last thing I want to do.

I want to call out to him to stay, but instead, I stand on my front porch and try not to pinch myself in front of him.

Would it be totally cliche of me to lean against the door as it closes behind me, my hands clasped together in excitement beneath my chin?

Fine. I won't. But the temptation is hard to resist as he walks backward down my front steps, the shy smile still on his face as he says goodbye, and then disappears down the driveway. It would be so easy to stop him … tell him to come inside; no one will be home for hours.

Would he take me up on my offer?

Would it be as easy as I think it would be? Bringing Edward into my house, my room, for more?

Because that's what I want. More. So much more.

What does that say about me; to jump into more mere hours after I experienced my first something?

What does it say about him?

It's a thought I think about in the shower, musing over it as I attempt to finish a little schoolwork. I'm still thinking about it as I cook myself dinner and think about it a little more as I get myself ready for bed.

As much as Edward and I are alike, we are also very different. And I haven't forgotten that part about us. While I sit here and dwell about my first kiss, I know our first wasn't his first. There have been many girls before me, and I know that. It's been something I've known about him since before we even started talking a few weeks ago.

He's popular, ridiculously good-looking, and every female in high school would be willing to do more than just kiss Edward Cullen.

Myself included.

Some can say they already have, and I know green isn't a good color on me, so I push the thoughts out of my mind before I worry myself to death.

Am I okay with being one of those girls?

Would I be just another girl to Edward?

Maybe I am in over my head; I think to myself as I settle into bed beneath my blankets. Maybe I'm as naive as the cliche says I am. Maybe I believe I'm different than all the rest.

Maybe he thinks so, too.

Turning over to my side facing the window, I huff in annoyance as I try to settle my mind for the night. I could drive myself crazy thinking of Edward, hoping for answers to questions I don't understand quite yet. I'm afraid to do the wrong thing, but I'm already so lost in my feelings that I don't know what is actually the right thing or the wrong thing anymore.

I'm even more confused when my phone lights up my darkened bedroom a few minutes later. Because this is exactly what I want — Edward's name appearing on my phone — and at the same time, I'm unsettled at the prospect of giving my trust over to some boy.

He may end up being the boy, but considering the male figures in my life, it's understandable I'm a little apprehensive about pretty much anything involving Edward. I watched my father abuse my mother. And then there's my brother, who idolized that father and still holds a grudge against me for robbing him of his childhood. All those times Liam had to stay with me while Mom worked after Dad died, he hasn't forgotten.

It still doesn't stop me from reading the text Edward sent and smiling from ear to ear.

I'm giving up on homework for tonight. Fuck it.

My fingers flit across the screen to answer him. I stopped a while ago. Couldn't concentrate.

He answers me back quickly. Me neither. I wonder why.

I think I know.

I'm sure you do.

I flip onto my back, my brow furrowed as I read his words. Clearly, he's as distracted as I am. I wonder if being honest with him, no matter how awkward it may be, is the best way with him.

Maybe I'd prefer my heart to be broken now before he gives it any more reason to fall for him.

Exhaling loudly, I close my eyes and hit send.

I didn't think anything would happen with us. I didn't plan any of it. People at school being in my business is the last thing I would ever want. I just want you to know that.

I watch my phone as he types his response. A minute later, a text comes through that makes me laugh aloud in the silence of my room. In the silence of the house.

So you didn't have some grand plan of seducing me?

I shake my head at the ridiculousness of his obviously joking insinuation.

Does it seem like I did?

I'm not sure. But it worked.

I draw a sharp instant of breath as I read his reply. A beat later, a second text from Edward comes through. People at school live for things like this. Nothing better for them to do.

But they're your friends. Aren't they?

Yeah, but I've known them for years. They were my friends before they turned into dicks.

I roll my eyes and answer him.

Hate to tell you this, but they were always dicks. Not you, though. Never you. I wonder why.

Do you not know my mother? She'd kick my ass with a smile if I ever tried to pull any of their shit.

Once I'm finished laughing at the vision I have of Esme and Edward, I send, You're right. She would. I'd love to see that.

Never gonna happen.

I sigh.

I know. You're not like the rest of them.

Neither are you.

I momentarily hesitate before I remind myself that being open and upfront with Edward has proven to work best for us and whatever this is between us.

Is that a bad thing?

It feels like an eternity before he answers me back, but when he does, I'm quite sure he's the one trying to seduce me.

It's a beautiful thing. 'Night, Bella.

I smile softly to myself.

Goodnight, Edward.

I roll over, place my phone on my nightstand, and sleep.

-u-

The next morning my first of many epiphanies hit me as I'm standing in front of my mirror getting ready for school. I have my coffee on my dresser, comfortably warm and doing a decent job of waking me up for the day ahead. My school uniform is on, my bag is packed, and I'm fixing my hair when it dawns on me.

I'm looking forward to going to school.

For the first time since I had walked a foot inside of my elementary school in Forks, I actually want to be there.

And I feel like a complete teenager when I admit to myself it's because of a boy.

I wear my hair a little looser today; it reminds me of the way it looked in the mirror after he had dropped me off last night after our time at First Beach. I can still remember the feel of his fingers as he held me close, his lips softly on mine as we took this new step together.

I wonder when it will happen again.

Ugh. I've turned into such a girl.

We don't have any volunteering today, as Edward has obligations for basketball after school, so that means I won't be alone with him at all until possibly tomorrow after our shift at work.

I'll definitely be taking him up on his offer to drive me home.

Absolutely I will.

Rolling my eyes at myself and the person I've become overnight, I let my loosened braid fall to one side of my shoulder, errant strands falling on the side of my face. I grab my things off the island in the kitchen and head out the door, grabbing an umbrella because I'll never take another ride from Liam ever again.

Even thoughts of Liam can't bring me down today.

I use the time I have on my walk to compose myself. If there's one thing I'm sure of about this new teenage mess I find myself in the middle of, it is that Edward is right. His friends, and all the other student population here at Forks High School, cannot know about us. Their immaturity and need for gossip will taint whatever goodness there is between Edward and me.

Keeping it between just the two of us sounds perfect for us.

I can't walk into school and act…happy, which is what I think I am right now.

Happy.

No one can see that.

Not even Angela Weber, one of the girls in the popular clique at school with Edward and the rest of them. Angela has always been the nicer of the girls within that circle, so when she asks me for a pen during French class, I don't hesitate to offer her one of mine.

"Thanks, Bella. I'll give it back to you after class." She smiles, and I shake my head.

"Keep it. You'll need it for your other classes."

She nods her gratitude, and I send her a small smile back in return before I remember I'm not supposed to do that. Me being nice would raise too many suspicions.

But what about him? What about the looks Edward sends me during English when he thinks I can't see him?

Of course, I can see him. I feel his eyes, his presence, pinning me like a needle on a dartboard. I'm completely under his thumb, craving more of him by the second, and I already know I won't have it any other way.

I'll always want him in my life. In whatever form I can have him.

And when our eyes meet when the bell rings at the end of class, the rest of our classmates gathering their things and heading out the door, I know we've only just begun.

-u-

Days when I don't have to go to the after-school program have become eye-opening. It's been a month since Mr. Clearwater had suggested volunteering to me, and it's become obvious just how right he was. Not only has this volunteering experience thickened my college applications, it's also given me something to do after school. Even if Mom and Liam were home at decent hours of the day, the thought of spending time with either of them makes me want to head into Mr. Clearwater's office and have him sign me up for whatever volunteering opportunity he has for me.

Today is one of those days. Edward is busy with basketball, which means neither of us are on the schedule over at the Boys and Girls Club. Mom and Liam are nowhere to be found, which is always fine with me, but all my schoolwork is finished for the night, and all my college applications have been sent in. There are only a few days before Thanksgiving, and the atmosphere at school has been light as teachers and students alike begin to prepare for the four-day weekend.

It all leaves me restless.

Not entirely full from the sad excuse of random food I threw together for myself and called it dinner, I roll off my bed in a bored heap, throwing my hair into a messy bun and my feet into a pair of warm boots. If anything, a warm cup of hot chocolate from the diner seems fitting for a night like tonight. It will warm me up from the cold and empty house and provide me with some type of entertainment for the evening to escape the boredom that threatens to put me to sleep.

I grab a book off my shelf on the way out, tossing it into my bag as I head out the door. The walk to the diner isn't far, and I've been doing this walk by myself for so long it doesn't bother me.

The familiar bell on the doors echoes behind me as I walk inside, and I glance at my phone to check the time. The diner isn't crowded now at eight o'clock, filled with just the right amount of people so I can sit comfortably at the counter and wait for Esme. She spots me as I'm taking my jacket off and sliding it onto the back of my chair, and shoots me a quick wave and a smile from across the room. With Thanksgiving days away and Christmas around the corner, the diner is full of cheap holiday decorations, and it already lifts the fog I've found myself in since school let out earlier today.

"What can I get you tonight, Bella?" Esme happily asks as she makes her way over. She leans towards me, her elbows resting against the counter. "Maybe some hot chocolate to warm you up?"

"That sounds nice," I smile and nod my head in agreement. "Extra whip cream?"

"Of course," she replies warmly, turning towards the mugs. "I remember."

Esme remembering my order, fills me with a warmth no hot chocolate can bring, even on the coldest night, which may just be tonight. It's easily the coldest night of the season so far, and I close my eyes and savor my first sip a few minutes after Esme places it in front of me to warm me up after my walk here. She tells me she'll be back when she can and disappears back to her tables in the dining room as I enjoy my drink and watch the people around me. I may still have no one besides Esme to talk to at the moment, but I feel content as I watch the diner slowly empty and begin to quiet down for the night.

It helps keep my mind off my phone, burning a hole in my pocket, sighing to myself as I ignore the urge to check it again to see if Edward has reached out to me at all. I don't expect him to, nor am I going to be upset if he doesn't. I just…don't know what to do.

I know he's busy with practice and homework, and I don't want to bother him, so I had unconsciously made the decision not to be the one to text him first. I really have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to things like this; I don't know the rules, or anything really, about what to do about liking a boy. I especially don't know what to do when the same boy likes me back.

Or, at least that's what I think is happening here.

Whether Edward likes me or just likes spending some of his time with me, I decide to enjoy it for whatever it is and how long it lasts.

"No volunteering today?" Esme asks a few minutes later, a tray of dirty dishes in her hand. She unloads them expertly into the bin, another server slipping past her to take the bin into the kitchen behind us.

"No, not today. Irina put Edward and me on the same schedule, so when he has a game or practice, she puts other volunteers on the schedule for the day."

"It seems to be working out for you then?"

I nod and take another sip of my hot chocolate. "Yeah, I think so. I've been logging in the hours and adding them onto my applications."

"Have you sent any in yet?"

"A few. Haven't heard back."

"You still have some time," Esme smiles reassuringly. "The deadlines are soon, right? I'll have to remind Edward again to finish them."

The hardcore eye roll she makes at the thought of her son makes me laugh. "He hasn't sent any in yet?"

"Still collecting dust on the desk in his room as we speak," she sighs, wiping down the counter.

"I'm surprised Mr. Clearwater isn't on him all the time about it," I muse, wondering if it's just me Clearwater is intent on bothering.

"Oh, he is," Esme laughs and stops cleaning to point a joking finger in my direction. "You have my permission to be on him too, Bella."

Oh, if you only knew.

"I'll try," I laugh, hoping my lack of experience with crushes doesn't give away any of my secrets. Secrets about her son, no less.

"Try what?" A voice interrupts from behind me, and I don't need to turn around to know who it is. He's probably here to take Esme home, as they share a car, and it crosses my mind that it might be weird for him that I'm here talking to his mom.

"To be on your ass about submitting your applications on time," Esme answers, seemingly oblivious to the war I have raging in my head.

Edward turns to me with a mischievous smile, his hair damp and somewhat out of place from what I assume to be a shower after his practice. "You'll be on my ass?"

I hold my hands up in surrender. "Her words, not mine."

Esme laughs, pointing towards my mug. "Hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, sure." Edward concedes, waiting for Esme to be out of earshot before quietly adding, "You didn't tell me you were here."

"Spur of the moment decision," I reply with a shrug. "I was bored and figured getting out of the house would help."

He nods. "Did it?"

"Absolutely," I say. "It always does."

He looks around at the decorations surrounding the counter we're sitting at and the dining room behind us. "You like coming here?"

"You don't?"

"I don't mind it," Edward says. "But my mom has worked here since forever. It kind of loses its appeal after a while."

"Not for me," I shake my head and take another sip. "Something about late-night diner food always hits the spot."

"Maybe if you're drunk or high or something." Edward laughs and reaches for the mug Esme returns with.

"Maybe," I contemplate. "I wouldn't know."

Edward takes his eyes off of his steaming hot chocolate and looks at me. Eventually, he pushes the rest of his thoughts aside. "You're not missing out on much."

"Do you do that a lot?" I ask though I know without him saying it that he's not the one in his group known for outrageous drunken behavior.

"Don't answer that if you know what's good for you," Esme chimes in from out of nowhere. Edward jumps and looks around like she's a ghost who appeared out of thin air.

"How do you always manage to do that?" He asks, all of us laughing as we finish our drinks.

"Moms have their own Spidey-sense," Esme responds with a casual air about her. It's such a natural response that makes me feel another rift between my own mother and me.

Not all moms, I think to myself as I down the last of my hot chocolate and place it in Esme's waiting hands.

"I'll be done in a bit," she calls over her shoulder as she walks away with our mugs. She looks over at Edward. "Why don't you drive Bella home and then come back? I should be ready by then."

"Is that okay?" Edward swivels in his chair in my direction, and I have to restrain myself at the thought of finally being alone with him.

"Sure, thanks."

We gather our things, amicably chatting as we head towards the exit, a burst of cold air enveloping us as we open the door. I'm not sure if it's the hot chocolate or the boy who walks beside me towards his car that causes the heat in my cheeks, but I welcome it as I slide into the passenger seat.

Edward, pulling out of the parking spot with an ease I suddenly find incredibly sexy, eases us onto the road towards my house before he says anything. "I don't see you arguing about not needing a ride tonight," he jokes.

"How am I going to say no to your mom?" I retort, enjoying the laugh that comes out of his mouth.

"So you have no problem saying no to me, but you'll let my mom get her way with whatever she wants?"

"Pretty much," I pretend to mull it over for a second. "She makes a wicked hot chocolate."

"You and that hot chocolate." He shakes his head as we turn a corner. "So that's what it is, huh? I have to win you over with hot chocolate."

I watch as he slows the car down to stop at the impending red traffic light, mesmerized by the smirk on his face and the brief glimpse of the silver chain he wears on his neck. Sighing at his beauty in all its simplicity, I continue staring. "Haven't you already won me over?"

He turns his head at my words, his foot gradually pressing on the break until we're finally at a complete stop. "I hope so," he breathes, and his mouth is on mine again before I know it.

Unlike yesterday, I'm prepared for what comes next. I know what happens to me when our lips touch like this. I know my body turns to fire, and my skin melts wherever it is we meet. His hands on my face, his lips dancing with mine, the tip of tongue swiping to find my own.

We lose ourselves in the moment, in each other, until a honk from behind us breaks us apart, and we remember where we are. Laughing as we speed away, he reaches for my hand, and I squeeze it once in return.

I tell him to park further down my street and away from the sweeping driveway in front of my house in case Liam or my mother have beaten me home for the night. The last thing I want is for them to know anything about Edward.

It's better this way, especially when his lips trail down my neck and his fingers inch their way up my thigh after he has put his car in park.

With no one behind us to honk this time, I'm not sure I'll ever want to stop.

It seems we're divided, my friends. Some of us think that for right now, keeping their relationship a secret is best. Some of us think it's only going to cause more problems for them down the road. Some think that neither of them should worry about what other people think and should do what makes them happy, publicly or not.

I think because I'm (and others) are looking through eyes that have seen high school come and go, it's easy for us to see how this can backfire on them. It's easy for us to see how fragile they both are - Bella because of her neglect and inexperience, and Edward because of how much pressure he puts on himself to fit in. As adults, we KNOW what they should do.

But what are the chances of two high school kids actually listening to us adults around them screaming at the computer, "THIS CAN ONLY END BADLY!"

LOL for now, let's let them have their fluff.

See you soon!