Chapter 14 - The Song

Edward

I leave for my patrol shift an hour earlier than scheduled. Esme questions me concerning why. I explain it away as boredom on my part. Although what I told her is true to a certain extent, the main reason I'm leaving early is far more complicated. It is because I am a desperate, despicable creature. I can't stay away from the most beautiful melody ever produced.

The sound of a silent-minded girl's beating heart.

When I arrive at Bella's house, I scan through the thoughts of the people nearby. The elderly neighbor across the street is already asleep, his dream consisting of being awarded Yard of the Month by the city. At the Swan residence, the Chief is oiling his service revolver in the kitchen before he heads to bed. I catch several images of a bear haunting his thoughts. Little does he know that the true danger stalking Forks won't be affected by such a pitiful weapon. As for Bella, the lights of her bedroom are blazing. Every so often, I hear the sound of paper being moved. I'm sure she's up there reading again.

After hanging around for an hour or so, I decide it's time to begin my night patrol around town. I pass by several missing person posters while I'm out running. There's one on a telephone poll. Another at the car wash. A third hangs on the bulletin board outside of the town library. Each poster features the same young face, one with too much confidence and not enough common sense.

Rory.

A missing teen who won't ever return home.

The sight of her on that poster encourages me to run more laps around Forks. If I would have dealt with James properly the night I ran into him, Rory would still be alive and Bella wouldn't be in constant danger. That was negligence on my part. The guilt will weigh me down for the rest of eternity.

Other than the painful reminder of how I have failed in protecting the citizens of Forks, all is well in and around town at the moment. I'm soon drawn back to Bella's house to check on her. One by one, the lights inside switch off. Bella's room is the last to go dark. I hear her light footsteps tread across the floor. Blankets are moved. The mattress squeaks. She's sound asleep within minutes. I listen to her heart and her quiet breathing with more enthusiasm than I would with a new Queen album.

I shake my head at myself. Look at me. An immortal creature tuned in eagerly to the nighttime sounds of a human.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

How could I have not seen this coming sooner? All the signs were there.

My almost obsessive curiosity about the girl with the silent mind.

The urge to guard her during the day and her house at night.

Searching for her face within the minds of those around her - even when there was no good reason for me to do so.

It all pointed to one thing.

I had fallen in love.

I've seen it happen to many others over the years. Carlisle and Esme. Rosalie and Emmett. Even random strangers on the street. I often knew who was falling in love with whom long before they realized it for themselves. I've always found it interesting how the people I knew personally went from solitary beings to lovers. With Carlisle, it began when he experienced great sadness whenever Esme left the house for longer than a few minutes at a time. As for Rosalie, she went from only thinking about herself to still thinking about herself... but with the addition of Emmett in her thoughts too. Personally, I saw it as a great improvement to her normally vain train of thoughts.

I knew what was in store for them. Yet, for me, this whole thing came out of left field. I can't even pinpoint exactly when the change began. Was it the day Bella debated me over a book while stubbornly clinging to her personal beliefs? Was it when she threw her head back and laughed in my car, eyes sparkling like jewels? Or, had it begun earlier than that? Could it have been the moment I first saw her choking on a French fry in the cafeteria? I still remember the outrage I felt at how no one helped her and she had to save herself.

It's times like these that I wish Jasper was here. His empathetic abilities would at least have given me a heads up concerning what was happening to me.

Although I suppose I'll never know exactly when or how it began, what I do understand is that Bella somehow managed to sneak into my dead heart and make it wish it could beat again. This revelation first hit me today in the meadow. I watched her go from dancing like a zombie in Night of the Living Dead to dancing like she had done it for months. It was astonishing how quickly she picked up on it. I watched her transformation with an odd jumble of emotions. Amusement. Awe. Pride. And, like a jab in the stomach, I detected an emotion I had never felt within myself before today.

Longing.

Her cheeks were flushed a becoming shade of pink. A tiny smile hovered on her lips. Even the way she moved had me eyeing her appreciatively. I had the sudden urge to touch her hand to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. Then, I wanted to show her another dance. It was an older style from decades ago, one where couples danced close together and moved as though they were one being. At the time, it was the nearest equivalent to making love an unmarried couple could do without ruining their reputations.

But I wisely kept control of myself and did neither of those things. Her reaction from when I was only showing her the correct way to dance told me not too push her too far. As soon as my hands had settled on her hips, her eyes grew wide in alarm. She felt uncomfortable, which is understandable. A vampire's touch can be intimidating to say the least. I am supremely thankful that she at least stayed put and didn't immediately take off running.

"Daisy... twirl," Bella mumbles.

The many thoughts spinning around inside my head come to a screeching halt. I tilt my face up in the direction of her bedroom window.

The sleep talking has begun.

"Catch them," she whispers. "The flowers... getting away."

I smile a little. What must her mind be like that she dreams of flowers? Not ordinary flowers, mind you. But ones which have the ability to run and you must chase them down.

I'd give anything just for the briefest glimpse into her mind.

"Beautiful," she murmurs. "You're... beautiful."

My smile evaporates into nothing. I shouldn't be here. Monsters have no right to position themselves outside of an innocent girl's house, listening to her sleep talk about her current infatuation. Could it be the mysterious Todd, the one whose very name has irritated me since the moment I first heard of him? Or, is it one of the numerous knuckleheads at school who are too chicken to talk to her?

I really should leave. Bella deserves to dream of whatever or whomever she wants, free from immortal beings who shamefully eavesdrop on her nighttime ramblings.

But since it appears this monster has lost all sense of control, I don't move an inch. I can't bear to leave her alone. What sort of psychosis would be the most appropriate diagnosis for me? Some sort of obsessive disorder perhaps? That sounds about right. Though, to be truthful, it's likely more than one I'm experiencing.

"Dance," Bella says in her dreams. She exhales the softest sigh. "Please... Edward."

In all of my years on this earth, never have I appreciated not needing to breathe as much as I do right now.

I lean my shoulder against the pine tree I've stood guard under for these last few days, hoping it's strong enough to support me in this moment. Bella is having a dream, and I'm there with her. I can't believe it. Monsters aren't supposed to be in dreams. Nightmares, yes. But not dreams. She sounded relaxed. You could say, maybe even happy.

Is it possible she was dreaming about today? Of us dancing in the meadow?

I hate to admit this, but the idea pleases me more than it should.

"What are you doing?"

I whip around in an eye blink and drop into a crouch, already prepared to defend Bella from the owner of the voice who just spoke.

But it's only Carlisle.

I lift myself off the ground and dust my kneecaps off. I had been so occupied with Bella's sleep talk and what it may mean, I had ignored the thoughts going on around me - even Carlisle's. That is unacceptable. What if it had been James? I'll need to work on that.

"Edward?" Carlisle eyes me with much worry. I view myself from his perspective. My hair is more unruly than normal. There's an almost wild glint in my eyes too. I look to be on the brink of either having a nervous breakdown or breaking out into a song and dance number, similar to one you'd find in a Broadway musical.

I'm unsure which is the more disturbing possibility.

Esme was right, Carlisle thinks. There IS something wrong with him.

Quickly, I try to gather my wits and reassure him. "Nothing's wrong, Carlisle. I'm just doing my rounds."

"You're doing your rounds? Outside of the Swan house?"

"Well...yes. James made it clear his target is the Swan girl, so therefore she's the most vulnerable. Isn't it logical that I would stop by during my shift and check around her house every so often?"

Carlisle remains silent, his head purposely empty of thoughts.

"That's a good point," he concedes after a short time. "So... I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here."

"It may have crossed my mind."

He nods. "Well, I'll be honest with you. Esme and I got to talking earlier. She mentioned that you were behaving a little strangely this afternoon. It worried her a lot. She thought that maybe you were putting too much pressure on yourself. You're protecting the school by day and patrolling the town and the surrounding area by night. You're doing more than your fair share, son."

"I don't mind. It gives me something to do at least."

"That may be so, but Esme thought you deserved a break for at least tonight. I think she's right. You look stressed. So, I'm taking over your shift until morning. Go home and find something fun to do. Or, go hunt for a few hours. Anything you want. It's completely up to you. Just get out of here and let me handle things for a while."

My eyes stretch open in horror. Even the thought of leaving Bella here unprotected is enough to knock the wind out of me.

"No!" Realizing how insane I must sound, I lower my voice. "That isn't necessary. You and Esme deserve alone time together. Doing the night patrol is really no problem for me. I actually enjoy it very much."

Carlisle stares for an impossibly long time.

Hmm, he thinks. I wonder...

His pale marble lips purse ever so slightly. "You know, Edward. When I first went looking for you tonight, I found a trace of your scent circling town that's - oh - one, maybe even one and a half hours old. Never found anything newer than that." He makes a point in pausing, allowing the information to soak in. "Have you been standing outside of this house for all that time?"

I narrow my eyes at him. "Why does it matter to you?"

He shrugs casually. "It doesn't really. I'm just curious."

I sort through my options before I dare answer him. Lying will do nothing to save me. Carlisle has already guessed the truth.

I release a defeated sigh. "Yes. I've been here for at least an hour."

"Why?"

I drag a hand through my hair, frustrated that I must explain my reasoning further. "I've already told you. The girl is vulnerable. Her blood has a certain draw to it which attracts vampires far too easily. I tell you, Carlisle, it's not normal. She's in constant danger just by trying to live her life - and she isn't even aware of it."

I throw up my hands in exasperation. "And good god! You should see what she's had to put up with in just the short amount of time we've lived here. It's disgusting. Her father has banned nearly everything from her life in the name of protecting her. The idiots at school treat her like she's an Untouchable just because of her father and those ridiculous lies being spread about her. And she won't fight back! She doesn't even try to defend herself against any of it. She just ignores them and goes about her day.

"But then James comes along - a dangerous, nomadic vampire who uses his charms to lure in his prey. A normal human would do one of two things: Fall into his trap and become his next meal, or realize they're in danger but become too petrified with fear to do anything about it. But Bella? No. She does neither. What does she do? She tells James off!" I grab my hair and pull it by the roots. "The girl isn't afraid to mouth off at vampires, but she stays silent when ordinary humans mock or abuse her. It's... it's unheard of! She's the bravest, most confounding person I've ever come across.

"So, in regards to your question, that's why I've been here for the past hour, Carlisle. This girl has the worst luck imaginable and doesn't even realize it. If I don't keep a close eye on her, trouble will march straight to her doorstep. And knowing her the way I do, there's no doubt in my mind that she'll try to fight it all by herself."

During my rant, Carlisle goes stone still. Even his eyes are frozen open. As the silent seconds add up, he slowly defrosts. He blinks first. Then, a sudden grin stretches across his face.

He's found his mate, he thinks.

My head hangs low. I haven't considered that possibility before, but I see he is right. It also makes this situation that much worse. A vampire falling in love with a human is bad enough. A vampire viewing that human as their mate is at another, much higher level of insanity.

"I suppose so," I mutter morosely.

Carlisle breathes out one, brief chuckle. "Well don't go sounding so excited about it, son. You've only been waiting for this to happen for several decades."

I direct a scowl at him. "Ah, yes. A monster who craves the blood of innocents is in love with the girl whose blood smells the most tempting by far. How lucky for her."

The amusement in Carlisle's mind subsides. His face grows serious. "Yes, having a human as your mate does create some... challenges, but it isn't as hopeless as you are insinuating." An image surfaces from within the depths of his mind. I spot a human, creamy-white neck. Carlisle's mouth inches closer, heading straight for the jugular vein.

My nostrils flare like a maddened bull's. This man is both my mentor and father. But all I see now is a threat.

"Don't you dare touch her," I growl.

Carlisle's hands fly up, palms facing outwards. "Whoa, whoa there, Edward. I think you're misunderstanding things from my end. I wasn't finished. Look."

He opens up his thoughts to me again. Although he has never met Bella personally, he has seen her from afar while driving around town with Esme. He developed a vague impression of her appearance. Mahogany-brown hair and a petite figure. His mind replays the image from earlier but with more details added this time. He imagines sinking his teeth into her neck and allowing the venom to seep into her bloodstream. Bella's skin turns marble white, just like mine.

"As a human, Bella is in danger," he explains as the scene unfolds from within his thoughts. "But if we make her one of us..."

I send him a glare that would give the average human a heart attack. "No."

"Don't shoot down the idea so quickly. Think of the advantages if she were changed. Her scent would no longer affect you. You would never have to worry about slipping up and endangering her life. As for Bella, if she were one of us, she'd be safe from James. There would be no more worries about him hurting her. And, of course, you would finally have your mate to spend the rest of eternity with."

Somehow, I keep my anger under a boil, but my next words are spoken through my teeth. "You really believe I should damn her to this life? That I should take her humanity, her innocence - take her away from everything she has ever known - just because I love her? No. That would be wrong."

"But as your mate-"

I hold up my hand. "That's the problem, Carlisle. I may look at her as my mate, but that does not make her mine. She is a human girl. Humans don't have 'mates'."

Carlisle's forehead creases in confusion. "What are you saying? That as a human, she doesn't have the ability to love you?"

"I didn't say that," I snap back.

"Then what are you saying?"

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh. "Even if she were to one day feel a tenth of what I feel for her, I would never hold her back from her destiny. There will come a time when she will escape this town. She'll be free to do whatever she wants for the first time in her life. She'll start a career. She'll make friends. She'll find another human to love her in the way she deserves. Maybe she'll even start a family of her own.

"And you think I should turn her into one of us? To make her live as we do? Face it. We're little better than prisoners to this so called life. Just imagine all of the things she would be required to give up." I take a moment to look up at her window, imagining how she must look at this moment. Her long hair fanned across her pillowcase. A soft smile perched on her rosy lips as she dreams.

Perfect.

"Denying her a happy, human life just because of how I feel would be the ultimate sin," I say in a whisper. "She needs freedom, Carlisle. I won't be the one to lock her inside another cage."

Carlisle frowns at the despondent way I have spoken. "So... what will you do about this?"

My confidence develops a hairline crack. I mull over the options I currently have. Some sound unpleasant but manageable. Others are downright depressing.

Slowly, I meet Carlisle's gaze. Through his perspective, I get a glimpse of the tortured expression on my face. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could block the image out.

"I don't know."

00000000000000000000

Bella

I wake up with a faint impression of a dream still on my mind. All I remember are flowers, dancing, and Edward's face. A warm, fluttery feeling in my chest immediately follows those thoughts. But since I don't feel like pulling a Sigmund Freud so early in the morning just to analyze what that dream might mean, I hop out of bed and get dressed instead.

It's gorgeous outside today. The sun's out and the birds are singing. Sunny weather is rare around here. Well, it's not exactly "sunny". It's more like partly cloudy. But here in Forks, partly cloudy weather is more than we could hope for. We don't complain.

School turns out to be both dull and disappointing. It's Day two of our English oral reports. Chad Evans keeps stammering over his words, forcing Mr. Brown to ask "what did you say?" every ten seconds. That's the dull part. The disappointment comes from the fact that there's an empty seat at the back of the classroom.

Edward didn't show up to school.

I pout through the rest of my morning classes. No Edward at school means no meadow this afternoon. No meadow this afternoon means no music to listen to. No music to listen to means no dancing. No dancing means no fun. And no fun means...

No Edward.

During lunch, I have to force myself to eat the lasagna the cafeteria has served. It's a pity I'm not enjoying it more since lasagna is one of the few things here that doesn't double as an ipecac. This really isn't healthy. I can't let myself get upset just because he didn't come to school. Moping around all afternoon won't do me any good. After all, I do have my own life to lead. It's a half-assed life, for sure. But there's still plenty of things I can do today.

I could...

Or maybe it's better that I...

Hmm.

On second thought, maybe there isn't a damn thing to do around here today.

"Drew, if you wait till the last minute to find something decent to wear, I swear to god I'll kill you," threatens a feminine voice nearby.

"Trust me. I'll handle it."

"That's the problem: I don't trust you. Last year when you showed up to the dance in those butt-ugly ripped jeans, I almost threw up in my mouth."

"We weren't even together back then, Sandra," Drew stresses sarcastically.

"Yeah, and I'm so glad that was the case at the time. But, you are with me now. That's why I think we should go to Port Angeles this weekend. I can help you out. After I buy a dress for me, I'll find an outfit for you."

Drew groans like he's been kneed in the groin. "An outfit? No guy in his right mind would ever wear something called 'an outfit'."

"Well, if you want to still call me your 'girlfriend', you will."

While the couple at the table next to mine continues to bicker, their argument gives me an idea about what I can do today.

I'll go check on the status of my dress for the dance.

I'm off to Frannie's Dress Shop right after school. It's been a while since I ordered the dress of my dreams from their clothing catalog. I'm hopeful they'll have news on how much longer it will be before it gets here.

I push the door open, the bell lightly jingling to announce my arrival. The store's practically empty except for the store's operator and a customer looking through the racks.

Lucille breaks into a smile. "It came," she says as a greeting.

"Already?"

"Came this past Friday."

"Wow. That's some quick shipping. Only three weeks."

Lucille points to the back of the store. "Come on. I've got it hanging in my office."

She unlocks the office door and swings it open. Hanging on a hook on the far wall is my dress. It was wrapped in brown paper to protect it during shipping. I peek inside and take a look. I spy ruffles and soft fabric.

It's beyond my expectations. I can't believe I'll get to wear it soon.

Lucille eases the dress into a shopping bag and I hang it from my bike's handlebars. I thank her profusely for her help, even after she tried to sell me a pair of shoes I'm pretty sure were manufactured well before JFK was assassinated. She claimed they would go perfectly with my dress. I smiled and told her I already had some low heels I planned on wearing.

When I reach home, I run upstairs to hide the dress. My dad never ventures near my closet. Actually, he rarely steps into my room period. The last time was around two years ago when he had to replace the smoke alarm. My dress should be safe.

Night comes. While I drift off to sleep, I pick up on the drip-drip of water hitting the roof. The rain must be back. It's not surprising. For every sunny day we receive, Forks gives us at least a week of nothing but rain and clouds.

The next morning, I walk into first period English. At the back of class sits a boy with damp hair and a face so beautiful that it's almost impossible not to stare.

Edward's back at school.

I'm thrilled for around a half a minute until my brain catches up with reality. It's raining outside. The likelihood that the weather will clear up by this afternoon is almost zilch.

There will be no trip to the meadow today.

The same thing happens the next day. And the day after that. The unrelenting rain has settled on top of us and refuses to budge. Before I know it, it's the weekend and I'm working at the library.

I push the cart down aisle after aisle. As I place numerous books in their proper place on the shelves, my mind wanders to where my body can't go.

The meadow.

I can picture the flowers. The tape player. Even Edward. It feels so real. He's pointing a smirky little smile at me from underneath the shade of the dogwood tree. It worries me what he might be up to, but it's worth the risk. I like seeing him this way. It's a big step up from the grumpy face he usually wears. He rises up from the grass and takes a step in my direction. I do the same. Eventually, we meet in the middle of the field. We stop and just stare at one another for what seems like forever. Then, his hand lifts from his side and slowly extends out towards me.

My heart begins hammering in my chest. What's he doing? Is there a leaf in my hair and he's offering to pull it out? Or maybe he wants to dance with me again...

"Bella," a voice sing-songs into my ear. "Earth to Bella. Do you hear me?"

I'm jerked to attention. My head whips from right to left as I survey my surroundings. I realize I'm at the library, not the meadow. Edward isn't here. But, Ms. Linda sure is. Her frizzy black hair is pulled back with a scrunchie, exposing the gorgeous olive skin of her face for all to admire.

"Hmm," she continues. She leans her elbows on the book cart and stares at me. "Very interesting. I see all the signs. Glazed-over eyes. A dreamy expression. Yep. That proves it."

"Proves what?"

She flutters her eyelids. "Bella's got a cr-ush! Bella's got a cr-ush!"

My face goes beet red. I grab a book and shove it on the shelf. "No I don't."

"That look on your face says otherwise."

I huff and roll my eyes. "You're wrong. And why do you even care anyway? You're an adult. Don't you have better things to do right now that don't involve making up stuff about me? Like, I don't know... Maybe doing your job?"

"Yeah, but this is way more interesting. I never thought I'd see this day. Bella Swan crushing on someone and staring off into dreamland. Now spill it. Who is it?"

I look her dead in the eye. "Michael J. Fox."

"Pfft! Whatever. You haven't even watched Family Ties enough to know the theme song."

The smile I give her is as fake as what I'm about to say. "Maybe I just don't remember the stupid song because I'm too busy looking at Michael's dreamy face to pay it close enough attention."

Ms. Linda's red lips pucker out. "Fine. Keep your secrets. Deny the mousy, small-town librarian the secondhand romance story she craves to hear."

I cock up a brow in retort. "If you're mousy, then so is Sigourney Weaver. And I think your husband gives you enough attention at home to make up for my lack of romantic stories to share with you."

"Oh, Bella. It's just not the same. Ron and I are just an old, boring married couple now."

"Yeah, right. An old, boring couple who still leave hickeys on each other. And by the way, don't you have a scarf you can cover that up with? It's kind of distracting." I point at the huge purple bruise on the side of her neck.

Her eyes stick out from her skull. "There's a mark on my neck?"

"Yes."

"Is it bad?"

"I see teeth imprints. So, yeah."

"I'm gonna kill him!" she hisses. "I told him to be careful! Now what am I going to tell the kids during story time? I know at least one of them will ask what happened to me."

My mouth twists in thought. "I guess you could say that you went swimming at First Beach and a squid's tentacles latched on to your neck."

"Not helping," she scolds before rushing off in a panic.

Ten minutes later, it's story time. She sits in a wooden chair surrounded by a dozen talkative children. The sleeves of her jacket are tied tightly around her neck, forming a make-shift cape and hickey blocker. She gives the kids the excuse that it's Pretend To Be A Super Hero day at the library.

I wish I had brought my Polaroid for this.

Sunday drags by as more rain falls from the sky. On Monday, I wake up to a silent house. It isn't raining at the moment, but the heavy gray clouds still hovering overhead tell me not to get my hopes up about going to the meadow today.

I ride through fine mist on my way to school. It dampens my rain jacket and slicks down the streets of Forks. I keep the hood up to protect my face and hair from moisture. At school, I'm locking the bike to the rack when I notice Edward's car pulling in nearby. Not fifteen seconds later, a squad car zips into the parking lot.

Oh shit.

Dad's here!

I abandon my bike and rush for cover. The hydrangea bush I hid in a few weeks back works just as well this time around too. With dread, I watch my dad step out of the car in full uniform. There's a deep frown peeking out from underneath his mustache too.

This can't be good. Charles Swan doesn't make social calls to the high school.

He marches like a drill sergeant across the parking lot. Students scurry into the school building like rats abandoning ship. No one wants to wait around and see what he's mad about this time. He comes to a stop outside of a sporty black car that I know very well.

Dad knocks on the driver's window. The glass lowers a few inches. "Yes?" I hear Edward say.

"Step out of the car."

Edward pops open the door and slides out of the seat. The denim jacket he wears perfectly matches his jeans. He looks nice, and oddly enough, just about as calm as can be under the circumstances.

Once my dad directs Edward to stand at least a foot away from the Jaguar, he finally gets around to why he's here this morning. "There was a report called in a few minutes ago. A car was heard blasting loud music on Meyers Road. Your house is out that way, isn't it?"

"It is."

"That's what I thought." Dad hardens his gaze. "Would you happen to know whose car that might have been?"

"I can't imagine."

Dad folds his arms across his chest. "Is that right? So, I guess it's just a big coincidence that the car I'm looking for matches your vehicle exactly."

Edward's eyes squint, as though he's giving what my dad said great consideration. "Hmm. A car which looks just like mine playing music while driving around Forks. I must say, that does sound damning coming from your viewpoint."

Dad stares back with the warmth of an ice cube. "I'm gonna have to search your car."

"Certainly." Edward swings open the Jaguar's door and does a gallant sweeping motion with his hand. "Search away."

Dad shoots Edward a small look of confusion before slipping into the car. I'm so scared by what he'll find, I have the urge to nibble off quite a few fingernails. I watch him check the tape deck, the dashboard, the glove compartment, and every little nook and cranny inside of that car.

Five minutes pass.

Dad backs out of the car's interior with his eyebrows stapled together. He gets right in Edward's face. "What did you do with them?"

"Do with what? Officer..."

"It's Chief Swan, you little punk. Now, where's the cassette tapes?"

Edward's face reflects nothing except innocence. "I have no earthly idea what you're talking about. Based on what I've been told, it's illegal for a person my age to possess a cassette tape. And I would never intentionally disobey the law."

I laugh into my hand. Edward's pushing credibility now. But god that's funny.

Dad gets so frustrated, his head looks like a balloon about to pop. Without another word, he spins around and stomps away. No evidence equals no punishment for Edward today.

Edward cups a hand around his mouth to amplify his voice. "Oh, Chief Swan! If it's any help, I'll be sure to keep my eyes peeled for that vehicle you're looking for. I'm sure we'll catch that lawbreaker eventually."

Dad sends Edward one last glare before he gets into the patrol car and drives off.

Now that the coast is clear, I come out of my hiding place. The parking lot is practically empty of students. I glance over at Edward and find him looking my way. He walks around to the back of his car while his eyes stay on me. The trunk pops open. Edward leans in and reaches for the compartment containing the spare tire. After a few quick movements, he exposes what's really inside of it.

His tape player and a stack of cassette tapes.

I shake my head in amusement. Edward's sneakiness is going to drive my dad up the wall. I walk into the school building with a smile on my face. The bell will be ringing soon.

Rain falls all morning long. Just before noon, I stop by my locker before heading to the cafeteria. I put in the combination and pull the door open.

A piece of paper falls to the linoleum floor.

I bend down and retrieve it. It's regular notebook paper that has been folded multiple times, like a note you'd pass to a friend during class. Obviously, it wasn't meant for me. Somebody must have shoved this inside my locker by mistake. I'm preparing to toss it in the trash when I notice a word written in beautiful script on the front.

Bella.

I take a look at the people spaced out around me, searching for signs that this might be a prank. But, no one appears to be paying any attention to me at the moment.

My curiosity gets the best of me. I unfold the paper and read its contents.

The weather forecast calls for rain all this week. Since going to the meadow is out of the question, would you mind going to my house today instead? My entire music collection will be at your disposal.

E.

I read the note twice just to make sure I'm not seeing things. The boy who refuses to say one word to most people has invited me to his house.

Unbelievable.

In a stunned daze, I walk to the cafeteria and find my seat. Edward is across the room and already waiting for my decision.

Slowly, I nod my head at him. I'd be crazy to refuse the offer. Judging by the few tapes Edward has shown me so far, his actual music collection must be a sight to see.

He mimics my head movement and then pivots his face down to his lunch tray. Our interaction during school hours has come to an end.

At the close of the day, I step outside. The rain is discouraging anyone from hanging around the parking lot this afternoon. People are racing through the shower towards their vehicles. I wait under the protection of the roof's overhang, not sure what to do. I wasn't exactly given instructions on how this whole going-to-Edward's-house thing would play out. I'd bike there myself if I knew where it was.

Roughly ten minutes pass by. Most of the cars are gone. The black Jaguar sits empty in the middle of the parking area. My forehead scrunches together. Where in the heck is he? Is he still inside the school? Did he get stuck in detention? Frustrated, I twirl around on my toes to go search for him.

I immediately come face to face with a set of topaz eyes.

"Hello."

"Ack!" I screech.

My heart pounds like a jackhammer. But once I realize it's only Edward, I'm more pissed off than afraid.

"What the hell," I grumble. "Are you a ghost? Stop sneaking up on me like that."

"I'm sorry. I'll try to make more noise next time," he says.

I frown at him. "Sure you will."

He steps around me and strolls over to the bike rack. Rain taps at the back of his jacket. His hair grows darker. He crouches by my bike and then holds his hand out towards me. "Your key, please."

I give it to him without a word. He unlocks it from the rack in almost no time. Instead of pushing it over to his car, he picks the bike up as though it weighs only an ounce. This makes me a little jealous. How come I get winded when I try to do that?

Stupid boy muscles.

He hoists the bike on top of the trunk. Halfway through tying it down, his fingers go still. His eyes dart over to my face. Then, he zooms to the passenger side door and opens it wide. "Get in," he orders.

"What's wro-"

"Hurry up. I'll explain later."

I exhale loudly before I begin walking. When I arrive at the opened door, I stop for a moment and narrow my eyes at him. "You really are bossy. You know that, right?"

"Yes, yes. I'm the worst. Now, get in."

As soon as my butt hits the seat and my feet are safely inside, he slams the door closed. He zips over to the trunk and goes back to lashing down the bicycle. He's done with the task in less time than it takes me to tie my shoelaces.

"So, what was the problem?" I ask once we're driving away from school.

Edward keeps his focus on the road ahead of him while he talks. "I was worried someone might see you getting into my car."

"Oh. Well, I doubt that will be a problem today. Just about everyone's gone home already."

"Yes. Just about," he repeats slowly.

The car leaves town and we drive into a rural area. Since all of Edward's tapes are still in the trunk, the ride is quiet. I hear nothing but the windshield wipers swishing back and forth across the glass. Several miles into the trip, Edward turns the steering wheel left. The car leaves the country road. A one lane path leads us directly into the heart of the woods. We drive for at least another two miles. Finally, after we round one last bend, we enter a clearing. A gigantic white house stands out in the open. It's three floors of opulence. Acre upon acre of perfectly-cut green lawn lies in front of it. This place looks like something you'd see on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. I half expect Robin Leach to jump out and tell me all about the celebrities I might run into today.

"You live here?" I say in a squeaky voice.

Edward glances over at me. "Yes. Home sweet home."

He parks the car as close to the house as possible. We rush up the walkway as rain pummels us. He flings the front door open and we take shelter inside. The interior of the house is more impressive than the outside. While he goes to hang my rain jacket up on a rack, I gawp at my surroundings. The ceilings are high. The living room is spacious. The shag carpeting is white and luxurious. This place has been decorated in a modern, yet also comfortable style. There's glass coffee tables, chintz furniture, and a few paintings hanging from the walls. But the true gem of the living area is the grand piano. It sits on a dais, as though it's a treasured object meant to be admired and worshipped.

"You've noticed the piano I see," Edward comments.

I tear my eyes away reluctantly. "Yeah. It's beautiful. I haven't seen one in years."

"Would you like to get a closer look?"

My eyebrows lift in surprise "Your parents won't mind?"

"No. They won't mind at all."

As we walk over to the piano, a question pops into my head. "Speaking of parents, where's yours?"

"They're both out of the house. Esme has her gardening club meeting today. And Carlisle... He likes to go running for a while after his shift at the hospital ends."

"Oh. So, he's an exercise enthusiast, then."

"We all are, I suppose," Edward mutters back.

We arrive at the piano. It's truly an incredible instrument. The polished black wood is almost as reflective as a mirror. My finger reaches out to see if it's as smooth as it looks, but I stop myself and jerk my hand back.

"You can touch it if you want," Edward says.

I huff a laugh. "I don't think so. Your mom wouldn't appreciate me leaving fingerprints all over it. I bet it's no fun cleaning them off."

"Esme never cleans this. I prefer looking after my own things."

My eyes flick to his face like bullets. "This piano belongs to you?"

"Yes."

"You play the piano?"

He arches an eyebrow at me. "Yes. Is that disbelief I detect or just plain old astonishment?"

"Both."

He cracks a small smile. "Would you like for me to prove it to you then?"

"If you don't mind..."

He pulls out the bench and takes a seat. His fingers wiggle above the piano keys, as though they're already showing their eagerness to play. He glances up at me. "Any requests?"

I squint one eye as I think. "Um. I don't know... Play whatever you want. I'm not picky."

Edward observes me for a handful of seconds, his face carved into an expression of doubt. "All right. There's a song I've been thinking about a lot lately. It isn't new by any means. In fact, it's very old. You may not like it."

I roll my eyes. "It'll be fine. Just play it already."

His lips twitch a few times. Then his fingers touch the ivory keys.

My jaw hits the floor.

Edward produces the most heavenly sound I've ever heard from a piano. He wasn't lying. He really can play. The tune is beautiful, slow and mellow. It pulls at my heart strings. But, I hear something else in it too. The pattern seems familiar. I can almost predict what note he'll play next.

Everything suddenly clicks inside my head.

I know this song.

I rest my elbows on the piano as I listen in deep fascination. I hum a few bars to myself. The fog within my mind steadily lifts. The words from my past come to me as though I heard this song only yesterday. I open my mouth and allow the lyrics to float off my tongue.

"Stars fading but I linger on, dear

Still craving your kiss.

I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear,

Just saying this..."

Edward does a double take. Although his face looks like it's been paralyzed with shock, his fingers never miss a note while I sing. I take another breath and continue.

"Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you.

Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you.

But in your dreams, whatever they be,

Dream a little dream of me."

Edward ends the song as beautifully as he began it. After the final key is struck, the piano goes silent.

"You know the song," he whispers.

"I do."

"How?"

I glance down at my fingers, suddenly a little embarrassed. "My mom. She, um... She used to sing me to sleep with it at night."

"Like a lullaby."

I lift my face back up. My smile is unsteady. "Yeah... She loved to sing."

Edward's forehead creases downwards. "Hmm. That's surprising."

"How so?"

"Well, considering your father's stance against music, I assumed your mother would have held those same beliefs."

I shake my head. "No. Definitely not. And dad hasn't always been like this. He used to love music too - almost as much as she did."

"What made him stop?"

I exhale, the weight of the world crushing me. "Mom's death." As I think aloud, one of my fingers glides across the cool surface of Edward's piano. "She was a music teacher at the elementary school. On afternoons and weekends, she sometimes taught piano to kids in Port Angeles for extra cash. She was driving home one day when another car struck hers out on the highway. The - um - people in the other car were just a bunch of teenagers. They'd been fighting over control of the radio when they accidentally swerved into Mom's lane. The crash sent her flying through the windshield. Killed her instantly."

Edward frowns at the news. "I'm sorry."

"It's OK. It happened a long, long time ago."

His eyes seem to soften. "Just because it happened long ago doesn't mean you can't feel sad about it."

"I know," I reply in a small voice.

"So, about your father... How did he cope with the loss?"

"He didn't. It drove him a little crazy, I think. He blamed her death on everything he could think of. The age of the kids driving. The design of her car. He even blamed the layout of the highway for contributing to her death. He couldn't accept that it was only an accident." My shoulders slump. "For some reason, he vilified music the most. I'm not sure if it's because he really believes music is a bad influence on teenagers, or if he just associates music with Mom so much that he can't stand being around it any more. Either way you look at it though, he decided to punish the whole town for the mistake of four careless teenagers. He sweet-talked the city council into having it banned indefinitely. He said it was to protect us, and they bought it."

Like oil in water, more memories rise to the surface. "We use to have an old upright piano at home. It wasn't as nice as yours, but it had a certain charm of its own that made it special. Mom promised she'd teach me how to play it after my birthday. Of course, she died before that could happen. A week or two after the funeral, I came home from school and found an empty space in the living room. It was where the piano used to sit. I thought we had been robbed. But, no. Dad had given it away."

Edward scowls. "He should have asked if you wanted to keep it."

"Probably. But he wasn't in the right frame of mind at the time. Still isn't, really. He loved her a lot. I think his heart died the day she was taken away."

"I understand, but that's no excuse for what he has done. I doubt your mother would be happy with the way he's behaved."

My mouth twists at the truth of his remark. "Yeah. I'm sure it would have embarrassed her a lot knowing he banned music in her honor."

"That wasn't what I was talking about. I was referring to how poorly he has treated you."

I scrunch my face, my head jerking back. "What do you mean?"

"Come now. Are you going to stand there and pretend he's been a model father?" Edward strokes his jaw in mock contemplation. "Let's see... He has forbidden you from learning how to drive. He would likely 'ground you for life' because you've been listening to music with a juvenile delinquent like me. And, he seems to lack the ability to talk with his only child just for the pleasure of it. He'll make sure you have enough money for food. He'll tell you to be careful before leaving for school. But he won't ask you the important things, like how your day went. Your mother certainly wouldn't approve of how he's held you at arm's length."

I blink back in surprise. Edward's never even been around me and my dad at the same time. "How did you know all that?"

"How many times must I say this? I'm a good judge of character. I can read people. The only emotions Chief Swan displays are worry and anger."

I stop leaning against the piano and raise my chin up in challenge. "OK. Then read me."

This makes him frown slightly. "You're harder to read than most people."

"Cool. I've stumped you then."

One corner of his mouth curves into a smile. "Not completely. It's been difficult sometimes, I admit, but I've still managed to gather quite a bit of information on you."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

His tongue passes over his bottom lip. He leans in closer. "You're unusually quiet but aren't afraid of speaking your mind when pushed. You're rarely spontaneous. You like to think things through before you decide on anything. You always keep a book with you in case you get bored. Sometimes you sneak it out during class when you're already familiar with the subject being taught. You read all genres, however classic romance appears to be your favorite. At lunch you eat with your left hand instead of your right because that's the hand that holds the book you're reading. Flowers have the power to make you happy. A good guitar solo leaves you nearly breathless. And the only time you wear your heart on your sleeve is when you dance." His eyes penetrate deeper, so far that they hit my soul. "How'd I do?"

The intensity of the moment forces me to glance away. I suck in a much needed gulp of air before I dare to even speak. "You did OK, I guess." I make a show of clearing my throat. "So, where's this music collection of yours?"

When nervous, distract your questioner with a question of your own. It usually works.

"Upstairs in my room... but it's really nothing special."

The look I send him is made up of one hundred percent skepticism. Is he kidding me right now? Everything he's shown me so far has blown my mind.

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe," I mumble in return.

00000000000000000000

A/N-

Songs used in this chapter-

Dream a Little Dream of Me by The Mamas & The Papas. This obviously wasn't written during the '80s. It is a classic, though. Many artists have covered this song over the years, from Doris Day to Nat King Cole. The version sung by Mama Cass was the one I pictured in my head when I wrote this up. Give it a listen if you haven't already. You won't regret it.

Next Chapter- Edward shows Bella something amazing up in his bedroom (and it's not just his music collection). Then, um, stuff happens. Hey! Get that mind out of the gutter! We haven't left PG yet.

Thanks for reading! :-)