Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing, as well as TLS for recommending this story!

Huge thanks to Fran, Mr G and Me, and Monica03 for being completely awesome.

SM owns everything Twilight.

The guy standing behind Laurent is dirty and disheveled, his clothes torn at random places, with patches of pale skin peeking through. Dirt is caked and smeared onto his pants, and his light brown shirt looks as if it were green at one time. His shoulder-length blond hair is tied back with a thin, black leather strap and tangled with twigs, leaves and other debris,

I shouldn't stare; I should be running as fast as I can, getting somewhere safe and heavily populated. Strangely, something about this guy stops me. His features look so familiar. I don't know what it is or who he looks like, but I know he looks like someone I know.

The newcomer smiles, his hand flexing on Laurent's shoulder, making him wince. I almost grin at the sight but refrain. I'm unsure about this new guy, wondering how he knows this creep.

Whatever it is, I'm sure it's nothing good, especially if they're friends.

The stranger glances at me from head to toe before turning to Laurent.

"You're a squirrely one, Laurent." The dark and displeased look on his face is a stark contrast to his light tone. "I thought we were past this."

Laurent glares at him over his shoulder and attempts to jerk away, but the stranger shakes his head, planting his other hand on Laurent's other shoulder with a firm slap. A low groan eases its way from Laurent's chest, making the guy smirk and chuckle deeply.

The sound is dark and foreboding, and the situation is tense, thickening the air to an unbearable level. The fear that was once slithering its way up my spine is no longer there, though. I don't know whether it's my stupidity making me feel brave, or it's the fact that I'm feeling confident, being just a jump away from large groups of people.

Whatever it is, I need to keep my cool and get out of here.

Now.

"Don't be in such a hurry," he scolds. "We should … catch up."

"I have nothing to say to you," Laurent spits, attempting once more to jerk away in vain.

I'm confused as all hell; obviously, this person isn't friends with Laurent, if his reaction is anything to go by. But then, how do they know each other and why is he acting like they're best friends?

I'm missing a big piece of this puzzle, but for right now, I'm perfectly fine with that.

The guy shakes his head and sighs heavily. "Now, now. Let's not get bent out of shape. This is supposed to be fun!"

While the two converse, I slowly back away, eying the street with every step I take away from the quarreling pair. Once I'm in the clear, I take my chance and run.

The area behind me erupts into a symphony of noise; animalist growls, high-pitched screeching, and taunting laughter meet my ears. I'm tempted to turn and see what's happening, but I ignore it.

If my curiosity says I should, then I should do the opposite.

Jumping in my truck, I quickly check my phone with shaky hands, seeing Jasper had sent a text, asking if we could get dinner instead of going home.

Instead of replying, I call him, hoping my voice doesn't shake as violently as my hands.

"Hey."

I squeeze my eyes shut and bang my head against the headrest, covering the mouthpiece so I can clear my throat.

"Hey," Jasper replies easily. "Not to brag, but I found the perfect gift for your birthday. I think from now on I'll have you call me the gift God."

Forcing a laugh, I clear my throat again. "You sure seem confident. I might not even like it."

"Pssh. You'll love it. So? Dinner in PA? I'm craving Chinese."

"Sure. Did you ask Mom and Dad?"

"Did," he confirms. "It's okay as long as we come back before dark."

"Okay. The place down the street?"

"Yup," he replies, popping the 'p.' "I'm already here. Hurry up, will you?"

Rolling my eyes, I hang up and book it down the street, immediately spotting Jasper standing outside of the Chinese restaurant, a shiny, purple, birthday bag dangling from his wrist. He waves, and I give him a half-hearted wave back, focusing on parking.

I take a moment, cursing my still-shaking hands while my heart thunders away in my ears. I can't take long in here, because Jasper is the most impatient person when it comes to food, so I take a couple of deep breaths and exit the truck.

Jasper immediately rushes for me, his hands on my shoulders, holding me tightly. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Pushing him off, I take a step back and force a neutral expression. "What are you talking about? I'm fine. All of your talk on food has made me hungry. Come on, we need to eat fast if we want to be back before dark."

His protests follow behind me as I enter the restaurant, requesting a table for two from the cheerful hostess in the most beautiful, blue and gold dress I've ever seen.

Jasper's tense shoulders relax as we sit inside, perusing the menu. I feel the heat of his stare on my face but make no acknowledgment. When the cheerful waitress comes to take our order, I rattle off my food choices and drum my fingers against the rough tablecloth.

"So, what'd you get me for my birthday?" I make a show of leaning down to look at the bag by his feet, but he makes no move to pull it out of my reach. He continues to stare, his gaze penetrating.

"You were scared," he tells me, his tone low and matter of fact. "When you came up to the restaurant, you were scared; you were really pale and shaking."

I wave away his words with a light snort. "I'm always pale. I can't tan."

"Bella."

"It's either I stay pale, or I look like a lobster," I continue. "I'd rather be pale."

"Bella, what happened? I'm kind of freaking out here."

Sighing, I rub my forehead, wondering if I can just brush this off and change the subject, but one look at his face tells me otherwise. Quickly, I go through the events with Laurent, and Jasper listens with an intense, studious quiet. Worry and fear transition on his face throughout my story before repeating, with fear winning out by the time I'm done.

"Do you think this is the guy responsible for all the missing people?" He whispers, leaning forward, his eyes scanning over the restaurant before landing back on me.

I shrug and swallow thickly, never thinking of that possibility. My mind flashes back to the hospital, where Bree's parents had been sobbing at the loss of their daughter. I blink back tears and the anger swimming through my veins at the thought of such a young girl, with a full life ahead of her, now dead.

"I don't know. It's possible, I suppose."

"And this other guy? Do you think he's helping him?"

"I don't know, Jasper. I just know that Laurent guy was creepy as hell. The other guy … there was something familiar about him, though. I don't know what it was."

He hums distractedly, his eyes looking over the space around us, the silverware slightly rattling as a chaotic thumping comes from underneath the table.

Peering down, I see Jasper's foot shaking up and down. Lightly, I put my foot on his, and he looks up, startled.

"Stop."

"I think we should head back home." I start to shake my head, but Jasper continues. "No, we need to tell Uncle Charlie; what happened could be nothing, or you could have run into the person responsible for the kidnappings."

Saying nothing more, Jasper rises, cell phone in hand and heads to the bar, where our waitress is gathering drinks for another table. He converses with her quickly, and she nods, disappearing around the corner.

"I got our food to go. It should be ready—"

A sudden commotion toward the entrance has our attention turning toward the door, where we see Edward flying in, looking wildly around before landing on me. His shoulders drop slightly, and he turns behind him, speaking to someone.

I don't have to wait long to see who he's talking to. Emmett and Alice step up beside him, their faces masks of seriousness and their bodies stiff with tension.

Jasper eyes them warily, his own shoulders tight and his body moving with rigid, jerky-like movements. He leans toward me but is called away by the waitress, holding a white plastic sack.

Muttering a curse, Jasper places a hand on my arm. "I'll be right back."

"Hey. What's up?" I greet, walking toward them slowly, leaving Jasper to collect our food.

"We saw your truck outside and thought we'd come say hi," Alice quickly says, her brother nodding.

"Oh. We're just on our way out. Gotta get home before dark."

Alice and Emmett nod, their solemn expressions morphing into one of those tense grins and statue stillness. Edward is the only one who remains serious, his eyes penetrating mine and watching every movement with hawk-like precision.

I raise an eyebrow in silent question, but he doesn't change his expression, nor does he say anything. He simply stares. I try to give equal attention to his siblings, but my attention keeps getting pulled back to Edward.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Just looking around," Emmett answers.

Nodding, I turn when I hear Jasper's rapid footsteps approaching. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Edward's arm raise slightly upward toward me. As I look back, however, both arms are at his sides, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Hey, guys," Jasper murmurs, handing me the white plastic sack.

I take it eagerly, my stomach grumbling from the delicious aroma wafting from cartons within.

Alice smiles gently, her eyes lighting up. "Hi, Jasper. Nice to see you again."

He huffs a short laugh, his cheeks turning pink as he nods once, his eyes darting from her to the floor for several circuits before clearing his throat.

"Yeah, you … uh, you too. I'm sorry we can't stay to chat," Jasper continues, his voice stronger now that he's looking down at his phone. "We have to get back."

"Understandable," Alice replies with a sweet smile. "We'll walk out with you."

Jasper's head cocks to the side as he stares at the trio with scrutinizing eyes. "You're not going to eat?"

Alice's nose scrunches up as she shakes her head, the wisps of hair framing her face bouncing lightly. "No. We already ate. Like we told Bella, we saw your truck and wanted to say hi."

He hums, still eying them skeptically but nods and heads for the door as his phone buzzes once more. I follow him to the truck and roll my eyes as he stashes the bag under the seat.

"No peeking."

Edward and Emmett pause near the entrance of the restaurant, speaking quietly as Alice comes to stand near me, biting her lip as she tries not to laugh when I stick my tongue out at Jasper.

Her humor fades in the blink of an eye as she looks to me, confusion, and a touch of sadness etched on her face.

"Is it your birthday?"

"In a couple of weeks. September thirteenth."

"Why didn't you tell me? You're not one of those people that hate birthdays are you?"

"Hell no! I love my birthday. But we haven't known each other that long; I don't even know your birthday."

She doesn't look pleased, but nods anyway, her eyes sparkling at she stares thoughtfully. I watch her in amusement, wishing I could see inside her head for just a moment.

Amusement quickly fades, however, as her face goes blank and her eyes go milky before she squeezes them shut. Suddenly, she gasps, and her body seems to vibrate as she staggers backward, her hands flailing behind her.

Edward and Emmett hurry over as the former leans down to grasp her shoulders, whispering to her. She nods at what he says and turns away into Emmett's side, who ushers her away.

"She's not feeling well," he says over his shoulder. "Migraines. We'll see you later."

I nod and make a sympathetic sound, looking at Edward, hoping he can give me some kind of answer. He doesn't; instead, he smiles tightly and leans toward me. I blink rapidly, trying not to get caught up in his sparkling eyes.

The bastard.

"Be safe getting home."

"Of course."

He nods once, his hand cupping my elbow as I hop in the truck, ignoring Jasper's inquisitive and curious glances. When we pull out, I spot the trio walking quickly behind a building across the street. When we pass in front, I note it's the same apartment building Edward had come out of when I bumped into him the second time.

I wonder who lives there that they know, considering Edward seems to have a set of keys to the front lobby. Whoever it is must be close to them if he has a spare set of keys.

"Did you notice anything weird at the restaurant?"

His words snap me out of my thoughts. "Huh?"

"Something weird? At the restaurant? Did you notice anything?"

Groaning, I rummage through the bag, resisting the urge to curse him out. "Ah, man. Did you not check the food? Did you replace my order with something weird? If I puke, I'm aiming for you. Exorcist style."

I expect him to laugh or tease me, but he's silent, his eyes narrowed and trained unblinkingly on the road. His left arm is resting against the window, one lone finger tapping his pursed lips. "Hm?" Quickly he looks over and shakes his head. "No, nothing like that. Did you … What's up with Alice?"

Stiffening, I gaze at him from the corner of my eye. If he suspects the same thing I do, he won't back off until he has answers. While I'm almost one hundred percent positive, Alice is psychic, based on what I've seen and the strange coincidences with what she's said, I don't have complete certainty.

Really, it's not my place to discuss it especially since she hasn't confided in me yet.

Until then, her secret will remain just that. Her secret.

"What do you mean?" I ask, keeping my voice steady. "She seemed fine, apart from her headache."

"I think she has more than just headaches. I've seen her space out twice now, and I could swear I've seen her eyes change."

"Change how?"

"The color," he replies. "I think they went milky."

Waving dismissively, I scoff. Even though I've seen the same thing and I'm intensely curious about it, I'll keep my questions and theories to myself for now.

"It's probably your eyes playing tricks on you. Or the lighting or something."

He sighs unconvinced. "It's not just that, though. Like tonight, for example. This truck could belong to anyone. How did Alice and her brothers know we were there? Sometimes, I think she knows— "he trails off, shaking his head with a heavy breath before laughing humorlessly. "Maybe she's psychic."

My eyes widen, and my mouth pops open ever so lightly, but luckily, I'm given a moment to collect myself while he watches the road.

"That'd be something," I say with a laugh.

"Yeah," he murmurs, lost in thought. "It's just … she seems strange. All of the Cullens do."

I snort. "Nice way to think of your friends."

"It's not that," he tells me, shooting me an unamused look. "I don't get bad vibes from them, they're just … strange."

"Jasper, everyone is strange outside of your own perspective. Every person you come across is different from your normal. If they're not hurting themselves or anyone else, it's none of our business," I conclude, hoping this will be the end of the conversation, but I should know better.

"That's true. There's just too much weird with the Cullens, though. Their behavior, Alice's spacing out. They're … different."

"Different how?" I curiously inquire, wondering where his thoughts are going.

Whatever he's thinking, he keeps to himself, merely shaking his head and giving me a tense smile. "They're not like— nothing. Never mind."

Closely, I watch him for the rest of the drive. Every now and then his eyes will flicker to something unseen off to the side of the road or toward me. When he makes eye contact with me, he quickly looks away, muttering under his breath.

Jasper nods or shakes his head every so often, his fingers tapping impatiently against the steering wheel, before he shakes his head harder, scrubbing a hand over his face with a deep sigh. This cycle repeats until we pull into the driveway.

Shutting off the engine, he sits back, determination clearly painted on his features. After a moment, he turns to me, the fierce and resolute expression morphing into one of concern.

"You ready to do this?"

I swallow past the nerves slithering up from my stomach and manage a nod. I'm not apprehensive about sharing my story, I'm more nervous about Dad going out there, trying to track this guy down by himself.

Realistically, I know he wouldn't do that. He's smart; he's a cop, but he's also a father. After having witnessed his rage after Royce attacked Rose, I know it'll most likely be the same situation this time around.

Hopefully, Mom and I can keep him calm where he won't go out and get himself hurt. Again.

Inside, my parents are nestled on the couch, snuggled close together. Dad looks a little stressed, but that's normal, as of late.

They both smile when we enter.

"Hey, you two," Mom greets. "Everything go okay?"

Jasper nudges my arm, giving me a pointed look and glancing at Dad. I nod and push him away, sitting on the coffee table. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, my parents exchange worried looks and sit up straight, muting the television and giving me their undivided attention.

"Something happened in Port Angeles," I start, telling them everything that happened with Laurent.

Halfway through my story, Dad rummages through the side table for a notepad and pen.

"Where were you exactly?"

I tell him, watching as he furiously scribbles down everything I say. I notice his hand clench around the pen a couple of times, but mainly, he keeps his cool.

By the time I'm done, forty minutes have passed, and I feel exhausted.

"Is that everything?" Dad questions, looking up from his notes.

"Yep. I left as soon as the other guy showed up."

Dad nods once, sighing heavily and laughing lightly in relief. "Good. I'm proud of you, kid. You did the right thing turning his plan against him. Just try to stay in crowds next time, huh?"

I agree, promising to be more careful.

"Was it the same guy who's been taking people?"

Dad exchanges a weary look with Mom, who now seems pale. "I don't know for sure, but it's possible. I have someone helping me with the cases involving the missing people; I'll talk to them about it, okay? Don't worry."

"Who are you working with? Someone from the FBI or something?" I question, curious.

Dad gives me a stern look, shaking his head. "I'm not discussing this with you, you know that."

My shoulders drop slightly in disappointment. I do know that. Dad won't ever discuss his serious cases with us; he says there's no need to spread the horrors of the world to us.

"Jasper? How was your outing? Did you get something appropriate?" Mom inquires, changing the subject.

"It was okay. It wasn't a special trip or anything. Just birthday gift shopping for the pain in the ass over there," Jasper replies teasingly, sitting next to my mother on the couch.

"You say that like I should be offended. I wear that title with pride, thank you very much."

"That's my girl," Dad says with a tense chuckle.

"Did you get something to eat?" Mom questions. "If you're hungry, there are some leftovers in the fridge."

"Nope, we have food. Why are there are leftovers?" I ask with confusion. I told Mom about going to Port Angeles in plenty of time for her to reduce the meal size. I wouldn't have thought she would make enough food if we were all there.

"Rosalie wasn't hungry."

Jasper sighs heavily, looking up at the ceiling where her room is. "What's up with her?"

Mom pats his hand and smiles sympathetically. "I don't know, honey, but just give her some space. It's obvious she needs it."

He sighs again but nods, his head falling onto the back of the couch. It's clear Jasper wants to get to the bottom of Rose's issue, but he'll give her the space she needs, even though all he wants to do is make it better for her.

Hell, I don't blame him. I want the same.

"Sit down, baby. Watch television with us," Mom requests, nodding over to the empty chair.

"Sorry, I can't. I have to look over something for school. It shouldn't take me too long, though."

She nods in understanding, and after a quick bite, I go upstairs, pausing outside Rose's room. I hear the faint sound of music and rustling, and it makes me wonder what she's doing.

The rational side of me knows I should do as Mom said and leave her alone. From past experience, I know sometimes people just have to work things out on their own. However, my gut is telling me to punch that side of me in the face and kick it down the stairs.

Deciding to take the risk, I knock quietly, waiting for her to answer. When she doesn't acknowledge me, I knock once more before I slowly open the door and step inside. She's huddled on the floor at the foot of her bed, slouched over something. Her hair is up in a messy bun, a paintbrush firmly gripped in her hand with splatters of color up and down her arms. It's no wonder, considering how furiously she's moving over the canvas.

"Rose?"

Her entire body stiffens, and she glares at me over her shoulder. "Who in the hell gave you permission to come in my room?"

"Holy hell. Is my head still on my shoulders?" I ask, dramatically feeling around my neck. "I knocked, but you didn't answer."

Her attention goes back to her painting, accompanied by her grumbling.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," is her snippy reply.

"Yeah, cause it seems like it."

She shrugs in response, not taking her attention off of what she's working on.

"I'm worried about you, Rose."

Rose clenches her jaw and squeezes her eyes shut, her knuckles going white as she tightly grips the paintbrush. Her face changes from pink to red, slowly rising to her hairline as she huffs in anger and annoyance. I swallow thickly as I watch her, feeling my heartbeat increase inside of my chest to an uncomfortable level.

Rubbing the area there, I take a deep breath and start to back out, mumbling an apology. The difference I feel once I leave her room is amazing. In the hallway, I can feel the oppressive tension that was pushing down on me slowly abate, as if it hadn't followed me out here.

Just before I close the door, I hear her exhale heavily, her voice soft and calmer as she calls me back.

Remaining where I am, I simply push the door open and peer inside.

"I appreciate your concern," she tells me. "I just … need a little time. Everything is a mess up here." Rose taps her temple and rolls her eyes, smiling gently.

I nod. "Understandable. Just know, whenever you're ready, we're all here for you. You're not alone."

"I know. I love you, Bella."

"Love you too, Rose."

Leaving her alone and knowing I can't put this off any longer, I dig out the disk Edward gave me and toss it on my bed. Retrieving my computer, I lie on my stomach as it loads, going through the presentation carefully.

In all honesty, it's terrific.

To me, it's clear which part is my contribution, and which is his, but overall, it blended together flawlessly. His strange attitude aside, Edward is very smart.

Not that I'll tell him that.

Honestly, I don't see anything that needs to be changed, which is good, considering it's due tomorrow. As I reach to close my laptop, the faint silhouette of a person on the screen has me pausing. For a second, I think it's Jasper, hiding the corner, attempting to prank me, but as I stare harder, I make out their features easily.

Edward.

Loudly, I gasp and spin around, falling onto the floor. Words of shock, anger, and reprimand die on my lips as I find nothing and no one behind me.

Marching over to the light switch, I flip it on and inspect every inch of my room. Everywhere I search turns up empty, and even more, nothing is moved or disturbed.

I stand in the middle of my room and scratch my head, feeling confused and slightly unhinged.

"It's official," I mutter to myself. "I've gone bat shit crazy."

And it's all Edward's fault.

My thoughts are irrational, yes, but ever since his behavior has changed somewhat and we shared that kiss, it's been difficult to keep him off my mind.

Stupid hormones.

Deciding a change of scenery is in order, I head downstairs, stopping midway when I hear my parents whispering furiously from the living room.

"I need to find the pattern to this mess," Dad says, his voice weary. "There's a pattern. There has to be."

"You will, but not now," Mom replies. A gentle shuffling motion can be heard as she speaks, confusing me for a moment. When I hear the soft sound of a hand patting fabric, I realize she must be rubbing his shoulder like she often does when he's upset.

"Renee—"

"No," she interrupts, her tone firm. "You've worked on this all day. You've been working on it since the first disappearance. Take a break."

When he speaks, his tone is hard, frustration seeping every word. "I can't do that when there are people, when our ba— " the rest of his words are drawn out by the toilet flushing from Jasper's room, the pipes giving a slight groan. I strain to hear the rest of the conversation, only catching the last bit.

"I'm sorry, honey. I just want this over," Dad concludes, his tone soft and contrite.

"I know. But for now, take a rest. There's only so much you can do; and besides, the kids are still up. You don't want them hearing or seeing this."

Dad sighs heavily. "I know, I know. I'm going to study the map tonight. Maybe I can figure something out."

Mom sighs and says nothing, the two of them silent as the television drones on.

I walk down the rest of the steps, nearly bumping into Jasper, who rushes into the room, asking if the show they're watching has started yet.

"About a minute ago," Mom murmurs, her head resting on Dad's shoulder. "You didn't miss much."

Standing in the entryway, I stare at my parents for a long moment. Mom looks worried, the corner of her lip tucked between her teeth as her fingers twitch against Dad's arm. She constantly shifts, moving closer to Dad with each movement.

Dad says nothing, his face seemingly more drawn and aged than I remember it being a month ago. I'm sure this case is taking a lot out of him. I can only hope it'll be solved soon.

There are too many strange things happening lately, and quite frankly, it needs to stop.

Soon.

With a huff, I fold myself down into the armchair, my eyes trained on the television, but not comprehending what's happening.

When another commercial comes on, Jasper glances at me but does a double-take as he sees the frustrated expression that's undoubtedly plastered there. "What's wrong, Bella?"

I shake my head and bang it against the soft cushion behind me, my eyes trained on the ceiling. "Nothing. I've just lost my damn marbles."

"I could have told you that a long time ago. It's about time you've finally realized it."

With a sneer, I slyly give him the finger by pretending to scratch my temple, but my mom's disapproving look proves I wasn't as covert as I thought. Shrugging, and smiling sheepishly, I turn to Dad when he speaks.

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm just … seeing things that aren't there." I dismissively wave away the thought, ignoring Jasper's muffled chuckles and snorts.

"Oh? Like what?"

"People in my room."

Instead of looking dubious or brushing it off, Dad's eyes narrow and he repeatedly smooths down his mustache with his index finger and thumb as he thinks.

Mom, however, is the exact opposite. Shaking her head, she clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth disapprovingly, her face a portrait of concern.

"I don't think you're getting enough sleep, baby," she says, studying my face.

The opposite is true, actually. The past few nights, I've been sleeping quite well … and hard too. My nightmares have disappeared, and I've been dreaming of flying through the air while a soft melody buzzes in my head.

I don't know the name of the song, but I know it's helping to keep the nightmares away and that's all I care about right now.

"Why don't you head upstairs?" Mom suggests. "Get some sleep."

Glancing at the clock, I refrain from whining like a toddler. I don't like going to bed early, even if it's just an hour; nighttime is my favorite part of the day. I love the comfort and serenity it brings.

Plus, there's no better time to watch scary movies.

My Dad is the same way too; we're both night owls, through and through.

I want to argue, but seeing the firm look on her face, I know I'll never win. It's no matter, really. I can just watch a movie on my computer to pass the time.

Upstairs, I quickly work through my nighttime routine and head back into my room, changing into my pajamas. I pause as I open my hamper, seeing my favorite, tie-dyed shirt resting on top.

"What in the hell?" I mumble to myself, slowly picking up the item in question.

This shirt was not here before. Not only has laundry been done multiple times since it's gone missing, but I also know someone would have told me if they had found it.

Bringing the shirt up to my nose, I take a cautious sniff and pull back, confused. It smells like laundry soap, fresh air, leather, and something else I can't place but I know I've definitely smelled it before.

The laundry soap is definitely ours; I recognize the faint 'meadow fresh' scent of Purex, the same soap we've been using for years. The fresh air smell is strange, however. It smells as if it had been hanging out to dry, instead of going in the dryer, like usual.

Furthermore, if it were clean, why would it be in the hamper?

Taking another sniff, I hold my breath, trying to place the last unrecognizable scent.

Suddenly, it hits me.

I had smelled this before. It's definitely Edward's unique scent.

Had I not been so close to him in Port Angeles and locked in a car with him, I don't think I ever would have placed it.

Fisting the shirt in my hand, I smirk, knowing he's now busted.

He might have been able to talk his way out of being in my house before, but there's no way he can do that now. I don't think it's a coincidence that I saw him earlier tonight and my missing shirt shows up out of nowhere.

Yeah, he's so busted.

8*8*8*8*8*8

"What did my brother do now?"

Alice stands beside me, worry, and a touch of amusement on her face. I had completely missed her walking up to me, but then again, I wasn't looking for her.

I did see her and Emmett walk in, both of them wearing serious expressions as they spoke quietly, but I paid them no mind. They weren't the ones I needed to speak with.

My attention had been on the door, unable to wait outside in the heat and humidity. I watched as several students poured in, some of them giving me curious, apprehensive looks, and others simply ignoring my existence.

Every person that came in who wasn't Edward made my anticipation spike. It made me a little peeved too because honestly, it wouldn't surprise me if he skipped. The only thing that reassured me was the fact that we had to give our presentation today. I really doubted he would miss that.

"Nothing. Why?" I continue to stare at the door, sighing as the flow of students coming in slows.

"You have that look on your face." At my inquisitive glance, she elaborates. "You know, the annoyed one. I just assumed he did something."

"I … I just need to speak to him. Is he here?"

She shakes her head. "Not yet. He was running late this morning, but he's coming. He should be here very soon, actually."

We make idle chit-chat as we head to our respective classes, talking about the upcoming Halloween season. Apparently, it's one of Alice's favorite holidays, adding something else we have in common to the list.

"I hope they put up the Halloween merchandise soon," I lament. My wishes are in vain, I know. Every year, once September rolls around, I'm the first one looking around the stores in Forks and Port Angeles, hoping to see new Halloween items out and ready to be purchased.

Every year, I'm disappointed. The stores never put them out until after the first weekend in October, which is a major bummer for someone like me. Sure, I could just buy them online, and mostly I do, but I like seeing them in person before I purchase them.

It never fails to get me excited for the holiday.

"I need to update my stock," I continue, sensing the familiar feeling of anticipation bubble within me.

"I can't wait to start decorating! I wanted to start on the first of September, but my parents said it was too soon," she says, making a face. Her displeasure transforms into a more devious one as she gives me a sly grin. "But, that didn't stop me from decorating my room!"

She laughs, the sound is exaggerated and maniacal. I can't help but laugh with her, trying to mimic the evil chuckle, but my impersonation falls short. I do, however, get a little joy at the student who rushes by us, his eyes wide and unblinking.

Alice giggles at his departure, stopping outside of her class. "That was fun."

"Welcome to the dark side," I say with a playful smirk.

Again, she giggles. "Oh, I have to give you the website that has the best Halloween décor," she trails off, rummaging through her bag and huffing a moment later.

"Do you have an extra pencil? Emmett took mine."

"Yeah."

I start to dig through my own bag, handing her various items to hold while I search for an extra pencil. She takes them without complaint, waiting patiently for me to acquire her request.

Finally, I manage to locate one at the bottom and reach to take the papers from her. My eyes bulge as I see the flyer for the art festival this weekend underneath my math notes. She says nothing about it and takes the pencil with a grateful smile.

Hoping she didn't see it, I stuff the papers back inside my bag.

"Thanks! I'll give it back to you at the end of the day."

"No need. I have more at home."

Happily, she nods. "You're giving your project today, right?"

"Yes, I'm super excited, and can hardly contain myself," I deadpan. "Can't you tell?"

Hearing my comment, Edward chuckles lowly and gives me a smile as he walks by. I stare at his back, wondering if he's going to make a comment, but he continues down the hall, his arm gently brushing against mine as he passes.

Was that an accident? Did he do it on purpose?

"Better get to class. I'll see you later," Alice shouts, darting off down the hall when the warning bell rings.

I take my seat and eye Edward with hawk-like precision as he walks by under the guise of throwing something in the trash. He slips a folded paper onto my desk, his fingers trailing against the side of my hand, and returns to his seat like nothing had happened.

His nonchalant attitude tells me more than anything; I know he touched me on purpose, so what's the deal?

Over my shoulder, I gaze at him with inquisitive curiosity, wondering what his angle is with everything he's doing lately.

If he's trying to drive me insane, he's on his way to accomplishing it.

Catching my gaze, he nods down to the small slip of paper he placed on my desk. Looking at it, I see it's a note, written in perfect script.

Calm down. Too much excitement will give you a heart attack. It's only a project.

As I look at him, he flashes a humorous grin and returns his gaze to the front of the class.

"What the hell …" I mutter to myself, shaking my head in shock.

When the time comes for us to give our presentation, I drag my feet up to the front of the class. Edward hands me the paper we wrote, silently telling me I'll be reading it. While I do, he sets up the presentation in silence, coming to stand next to me as I conclude the paper.

The presentation he delivers is flawless. He speaks fluidly with confidence and clarity, something no high school kid has, no matter who they are, especially when giving a presentation. Usually, there's stuttering, forgetting a word or some nervous habit like shuffling their feet, nervous laughter, or not maintaining eye contact.

With Edward, he's the exact opposite.

He stands tall and still, pointing out, describing, and explaining the information like he's at a board meeting in a Fortune 500 company.

The guys who weren't jealous of him before now steam with envy and the girls swoon and sigh so hard I'm surprised a gust of wind doesn't knock the papers off the teacher's desk.

To be honest, it's amazing and sickening to witness.

The presentation concludes with a smattering of applause, and while our peers don't look like they understand what we said, the teacher seems pleased, so that's a plus.

We take our seats and listen to the rest of the projects, all the while, I feel Edward's eyes on me. I do my best to ignore him and focus on what's being presented, but it's difficult.

When the bell rings, I jump out of my seat and practically leap toward Edward, who looks half amused and half shocked.

"You and I are talking," I firmly tell him.

"That's usually what happens when one person says something and the other replies."

Ignoring his snark, I motion toward the door. "We're talking … privately."

"You think so?"

Quirking an eyebrow, he sweeps his book into his arms and saunters out. I follow closely behind, tugging at the sleeve of his cotton shirt. He doesn't slow and continues walking away.

Frustrated, I speed my steps and walk in front of him, causing him to stop. Luckily, the classroom we're stopped in front of is an empty room for storage, and thankfully, unlocked.

Opening the door, I nod toward the room. "Go in. Now."

Amused, he chuckles lowly and steps inside, turning to face me as I close the door with a firm click. He watches me with humor dancing in his eyes, his lips twitching into a smile every now and then as he tries to keep his expression sober.

"Are you going to speak, or did you just lure me in here to stare at me?"

My mouth drops open, and I stutter for a moment before remembering what words are. "I don't want to stare, you ass."

"Really? Because I've caught you staring at me a lot this morning. Something … on your mind?" He questions, an underlying tone to his words.

"No!"

"You sure?" His eyes drop down slightly before rising once more. "You denied it awfully quick."

"You're acting weird!" I exclaim. "You're brushing against me, grazing my fingers … what's up with that?"

He shrugs innocently. "It was an accident. It happens when you're in a school as small as this. I apologize if it made you uncomfortable."

I narrow my eyes at his repentant tone, knowing—no, feeling—that deep in my gut, he's messing with me. I don't know why, but he is.

"Whatever," I grumble, using my free hand to rub at my temple. "This is not what I wanted to discuss."

"So what was it, then?"

Marching up to him, I inhale deeply, finding the scent I knew I'd find.

Edward jerks away, puzzled and astonished. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"Just confirming my thoughts," I tell him proudly. "You have been messing with me. You've been in my house, and you took my favorite shirt. Don't bother denying it, either. Your smell was all over it."

I watch him carefully, looking for any sign of guilt or panic, but instead, a slow smile eases its way onto his lips, much to my irritation.

"You've memorized my smell?"

"That's not the point!" I sputter through clenched teeth, feeling my face heat slightly.

"You were in my house. Explain yourself," I demand.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bella. Honestly. I was never in your house."

"I saw you!" I hiss. "I saw you two times, and my favorite shirt was missing. Last night, I saw you, and suddenly my shirt is back? That's not a coincidence. Now, I want to know how and why. Why are you breaking into my house?"

I wait for a moment, wondering if I really want to know. Can it be a good thing that he's been sneaking into my house? Not very likely, I think.

Seconds later, I've made up my mind. Holding up a hand, I shake my head. "No. Don't tell me. Just knock it off. Or else. It's just creepy, okay?"

He laughs humorlessly, shaking his head and shoving a hand in his hair. "I don't know what you're talking about. I have not been in your house. I think you're seeing things. Maybe you should consult someone about this. I don't think it's healthy."

For a brief second, I wonder if he's right. Have I been seeing things? Have I been experiencing phantom smells? I suppose anything is possible, especially with the way I've felt lately. It seems that in one way or another, my thoughts are always brought back to Edward, for some strange reason.

"You think about me?" Edward questions, with a broad, teasing smile.

Startled, my head jerks backward, and I stare at him, wide-eyed, wondering how he knew. It hits me then; I must have been mumbling to myself and he heard everything.

Great. As if his ego wasn't big enough.

"No," I scoff.

"Are you sure? You're not going to boil a bunny, are you?"

"Why, do you have one?" I sarcastically ask before rolling my eyes. "Your ego is out of this world. I don't think about you. It's a waste of time because you piss me off."

"Uh-huh," he replies, rocking back on his heels, that same annoying smirk on his lips. "It's hilarious when you're all riled up, you know."

Sneering, I flip him off. "Screw you, Cullen. Whatever game you're playing, knock it off. I'm serious."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play coy. I know you're doing something."

"Well, I want—"

He starts to reply, but a low buzzing from his pocket interrupts. Fishing it out, he stares at the screen, his jaw clenching. When he looks up at me, his once, dark golden eyes are black onyx, glittering like a cat at night.

My stomach flips and my heart thunders in my chest so hard, I'm sure if I stare hard enough, I can see the movement through my shirt.

The obvious look of fury raging in his eyes isn't what has me so nervous. I've seen it before and dealt with it plenty of times that I'm almost immune to it at this point.

No, what has me so apprehensive is what is swirling underneath the anger, something just as powerful; sadness.

"I have to go."

"Wait—"

Reaching out, I place my hand on his shoulder to stop him. He pauses, his posture stiff and rigid. He turns his head just enough to look at me out of the corner of his eye, but no more.

"What's … is everything okay?"

"It will be."

I'm left alone once more, feeling a little confused and a lot frustrated. I'm not sure what's going on with him, but this hot and cold teasing behavior needs to stop.

I need to get away … I need a long, extended break away from Forks and away from him. Maybe then I can figure out why he's bothering me so much.

Like lightning, the solution quickly hits me. Thanksgiving break will be happening soon. Sure, it's a couple of months away, but it'll be here in the blink of an eye.

It's the perfect chance to distance myself from Edward and go through an Edward detox. Maybe once I get some time away from him, I can figure out why and how he gets under my skin so easily.

Maybe we can even go to Florida and visit Gran. Sure, I know we're supposed to stay here, but it can't hurt to throw the suggestion out there.

Feeling like I'm back in control for the moment, I try to have a more optimistic outlook, focusing on the positive, rather than the negative.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'll try to get the next chapter posted ASAP!