Chapter 18 - The Dance

Bella

One Week Before The Dance

Ordinarily, I love volunteering at the library. It gives me something to do on Saturdays and leaves me with a warm feeling knowing I've contributed my time towards a worthy cause.

Today, however, I feel nothing.

No, that isn't true. The problem is I feel too much. Things that once brought me joy don't do a thing now. Is it possible to be both numb and torn apart on the inside? I found out the hard way that you can.

And it all began the day Edward left town for good.

The metal cart I'm pushing stops in the children's section of the library. I work on filling the shelves with books recently returned. It's an almost mindless task, which I dread. Mindless tasks give you the opportunity to think, and I can't afford to do that since all I think about is him. The front lawn badly in need of mowing I saw while on my way to the library today reminded me of the green grass Edward would lounge on in the meadow. One time a breeze which passed over my ear sounded exactly like a sigh he once exhaled. I see and hear echoes of him everywhere I go.

I honestly don't understand what's wrong with me. I only knew Edward for a few weeks. How could I have gotten so attached in that short amount of time? Strangely, it appears I am the only person left at Forks High who cares that he's no longer enrolled there. Everyone spent exactly one day discussing why he would leave town so quickly. By the next morning, it was old news to them. They had moved on to speculating that Becky Hodgson's breasts were made of silicone. Edward's name barely gets a mention now. Meanwhile, I'm left wondering why the world didn't stop spinning for them like it did for me.

At night he comes to me in my dreams. The scene always takes place in the spot where he left me four days ago, in the woods behind my house. Dream Me will see him standing out there and I'll take off running, desperate to be near him again. No matter how much I push myself, I can never seem to catch up. He always dissolves into thin air, leaving only his eyes behind. They pierce through the black void of my dreams, like distant suns too far out of reach. I panic when this happens and beg him to come back. He never listens. Before I know it, even his eyes disappear and I'm left all alone. In the morning, I'll wake up relieved that I've escaped from the nightmare...only to wish I could go back and relive it again. Though it may be only a dream, at least I get to catch a glimpse of Edward every night.

In my zombie-like funk, I go about doing my job at the library. A quarter of the book cart's contents have been deposited on their appropriate shelf. Ms. Linda shows up with an armful of books and dumps them on the cart.

"Phew!" She wipes her brow with a smile. "What a day. Seems like everyone in town is either down here borrowing or dropping off books. Can you believe this pile came from just one person? Well... I take that back. It came from one frazzled mother plus her brood of kids. She had ten of them, Bella - and half of them were under the age of five! I don't see how the woman doesn't have a head full of gray hair yet. And why on earth would she do that to herself? Hasn't she ever seen Eight Is Enough? I watched that show exactly one time and thanked every deity I could think of for the fact that I only had to raise one child. Two if you count Ron. That man whines like nobody's business when he can't find his shoes in the morning."

Ms. Linda glances up and her smile dims. Her eyes skim over my empty expression. "Bella? Is something the matter?"

I feign interest in the task I've been assigned and avoid looking at her directly. "I'm fine. Just tired," I mumble.

"Oh. In that case, I've got news to perk your ears up at least. Joan Morris came by a while ago and told me the most awful story. Do you remember the Cullens?"

I pause a moment and slowly turn my head towards her. Do I remember the Cullens? Well...yeah. I only think about Edward Cullen and his family ninety-nine percent of the day. Like an idiot, I didn't ask him if he wanted to stay in touch. I've gone to the grocery store twice in the past three days hoping I'd bump into Esme. My plan is to ask her for Edward's address in Boston. Having him as a pen pal would be better than nothing. If I don't see her soon, I guess I'll just have to break an arm on purpose and go visit Carlisle down at the emergency room.

My head moves up and down in response to Ms. Linda's question. She steps closer and lowers her voice to where only I can hear. "Joan works for the bank. You probably know her. Squinty eyes behind the thickest pair of glasses you've ever seen? Anyway... she heard their adopted son was yanked out of school a couple of days ago. Apparently, he'd been having problems adjusting here and couldn't handle the pressure. Wouldn't talk to a soul and gave the students the stink eye whenever possible. Then he began showing some signs of mental illness. Joan said he set fire to a shed on his parents property. The whole thing burnt to the ground! The Cullens were so worried, they sent him to some mental health facility that specializes in treating juveniles with a troubled past."

I frown at the story that's being spread around about Edward. He couldn't have done what they are saying. I was on the Cullens' property less than a week ago and saw zero sheds for him to burn down. And as for the claim his mental health is deteriorating, I don't believe that either. Edward is no crazier than I am. Probably less so. After all, I'm the one who can't stop thinking about him.

I shake my head before I realize what I'm doing. "That isn't true."

"What's not true?"

"Edward didn't get into trouble and he didn't set anything on fire. He left town because he wanted to go back to Boston. He missed it. And he wasn't insane...just misunderstood, I think."

Ms. Linda's head tilts with curiosity. "Where did you hear that from? Did you know him?"

My canine tooth embeds itself in my lower lip. I don't like lying to Ms. Linda, but I once promised Edward I would never tell anyone about our meetings in the meadow. And if I'm anything, I'm a woman of my word. "Umm. We shared a couple of classes together. I overheard him say that he was going back home to live with his brother."

"Oh. I forgot that you both went to the same school." Ms. Linda tsks and begins working alongside me. "Doesn't that beat all? I'll tell you what, Bella - gossip isn't what it used to be. It's gotten to be where you can't believe half of what you hear anymore."

I make a humming sound in the back of my throat. Now that she's helping me, the book cart is emptied within five minutes. Afterwards, we walk to the front desk. A couple of people are in line to check out books. I volunteer for the job since Ms. Linda hasn't had a lunch break yet.

"I have a treat for story time today. The kids are going to love it," she says between bites of her gumbo.

I try to sound interested, but it's not easy. "Really? What's the plan?"

She drops her fork and stands up. Her long cardigan is unbuttoned quickly and thrown to the side. I'm surprised to see that a baggy dress-like outfit has been hiding underneath her sweater jacket. She rotates around like a model on the catwalk. The front is midnight blue. The back is red. A rudimentary image of a white animal has been stitched into both sides of the fabric. It has pointed ears, a thick body, and a long tail. It looks like a coyote, or maybe a wolf. It's definitely not an outfit you would find at JC Penney.

"This blanket robe belonged to my grandmother," Ms. Linda explains while smiling down at it. "She was a Quileute storyteller back when I was young. Her job was to recite the tribe's history and legends handed down through the centuries, and she passed them on to me before she died. I figured it would be fun to share some of those stories today with the kids." Ms. Linda doesn't talk about her heritage often, but when she does, you can see by the look on her face that she's proud of it.

"That's a good idea. I've lived here my whole life and never heard any Quileute stories. I bet most of the kids from town haven't either."

Excitement lights up her dark eyes. "You ought to come listen then. I know all sorts of legends that should pique your interest."

"Um. I guess I'll try to come when the library isn't busy."

When it hits late afternoon, Ms. Linda ushers the children arriving for story time into a room in the back. The library slowly settles into peaceful monotony. I hop up on the stool and try to alleviate my boredom by reading. That turns out to be more difficult than I had thought. I never realized how often stories revolve around romance. Thinking I'd be safe with a biography of Abraham Lincoln, I almost have a breakdown after reading that he once lost his first love. I don't need any reminders about that subject matter, Abe. After much searching, I find a murder mystery book that's romance-free. I really get into it. Then a new character is introduced in chapter two. His name is Collin. It sounds too close to Cullen. I drop the book like it scalded my hands and grab another one.

"Hey, Bella."

I look up from the big, boring book on mushrooms I was about to try out and meet a pair of smirking eyes. After not seeing him in weeks, Todd has reappeared. He's wearing a letterman's jacket and smiling so hard that my own face muscles twitch in sympathy.

"Hi," I answer quietly back.

If he can sense my lack of enthusiasm, he doesn't show it. His smile somehow grows wider. "Long time, no see, huh? School's been tough this year. Homework out the ass. I hardly have time to go out anymore. So, how have you been?"

Oh, it's been hunky dory for me. I fell for someone about a thousand levels above my league and had my heart ripped out when he moved away. And you?

I keep that thought to myself and lie. "Everything's fine."

"Cool." Todd leans his forearms on the flat surface of the desk. "I came by to see when you want me to pick you up for the dance next week. I was thinking seven o'clock?"

My entire body slumps at why he is here. The dance was once my ultimate dream. For years I had wanted to dress up and go to a party where real music is played, just like everyone else my age. But, not one guy in the county wanted to be seen in public with a nobody like me. And now that someone is willing to take me, I don't want to go. I'm sure if you looked hard enough, you'd find some irony hiding in there somewhere.

I know what I need to do. Music and dancing are irrevocably tied within my mind to a certain tall, bronze-haired boy from my past. So, I have to bail on my date with Todd...but in the nicest way possible.

"Gee, um, thanks for thinking ahead, Todd. But I don't think-"

"Or we can do eight o'clock if you want. Whatever time's best for you," he interrupts.

My eyes lower themselves to the table. "I... can't do either one."

"Oh. Do you want to get there early or something?"

"No. It's not that. I - uh - think you should take someone else to the dance."

A long moment of silence takes place between us. The library is the quietest I've ever heard. "Hold up," he says, furrowing his brow. "Are you saying you're canceling on me?" There's a touch of something in his voice. Betrayal? Hurt? I don't know.

"I'm sorry, but I just... can't go with you. I'm not ready for something like this," I reply.

"Huh? This isn't a marriage proposal, Bella. I just wanna take you to a dance. What's the problem?"

Todd, I'm in love with someone else and the thought of going on a date with you makes me physically ill...

"Well, it's kind of hard to explain," I mumble instead.

A distinct change sweeps over him. The warmth on his face turns ice cold. "Oh. I get it. You don't want to go with me now because someone better came along and asked you. Right?"

I frown at his assumption. "That's not true. No one asked me except for you. And I'm not planning on going to the dance at all. I'll be home by myself that night." A sigh crosses over my lips. "I'm sorry, Todd, but I'm sure there are a ton of other girls who'd love to take my place."

He barks out a bitter laugh. "Are you kidding me? The dance is only a week away! Everybody who wants to go has already lined up a date. There's, like, literally no one left to ask. No one!"

"Oh," I whisper.

Todd gazes back with a new, pleading look. It's the equivalent of clasping your hands together and falling on your knees in front of someone. "Come on, Bella. If you don't go with me, I don't know what I'll do. I probably won't be able to go at all. It's... a No Stag party."

"It is?"

"Yeah! I heard the seniors turn you away at the door if you try to go alone."

My eyebrows knit together. That's weird. Why haven't I heard of this before? I guess there's a lot about that party I don't know.

"Please, Bella," he presses on. "Isn't there someway I can change your mind?"

"Todd," I breathe out, suddenly tired.

"Five minutes! Just give me five minutes at the dance. If we get there and you don't like it, I'll take you straight home. Just...give me a chance! You're my only shot at getting in." That pitiful puppy dog face he's making isn't helping my guilty conscience. "I really, really want to go with you, Bella. I've been looking forward to it for weeks. Please say yes."

My eyes slam shut. I had no idea Todd was counting on me so much. If I back out, he will be doomed to a night at home, just like me. Would it be the end of the world if I at least tried going as Todd's date? It's not like I'd be cheating on anyone. Edward and I were nothing more than friends. He even wished me a good time at the dance before he moved. Obviously, he assumed I would go and not cry into my pillow this coming Saturday night - like I had planned. I wonder what he'll be doing that night? Will he be out on the town in Boston, his thoughts a million miles away from his former life in Forks?

My heart dies a little more.

Maybe I should go to the dance. It might be good for me. There's a chance I could relieve this unrelenting depression if I can only get my mind off Edward for more than two minutes straight.

I glance up at Todd and swallow before I speak. "So... are you saying you'd take me home if I get to the party and don't like it?"

His eyes light up. "Yeah! For sure. If that's what you end up wanting to do."

I stare at him for a few seconds more before cementing my decision. "Um...OK. I guess I should at least give it a shot."

Todd smiles. "Awesome. You won't regret this, Bella. Now, what time do you want me to pick you up? Oh! And where's your house?"

"Uh. You'd better not come anywhere near my place."

"Why not?"

"My dad might be there," I hint. If Dad saw me in a prom-like dress while a guy appears on our doorstep to pick me up, his suspicions would be activated. Then, he'd go into bloodhound mode and probably sniff out that party fast. I definitely don't want to be the reason why the Chief finally shuts it down.

"Oh yeah." He scratches his head and twists his mouth in thought. "What are we gonna do?"

"Ever heard of Mac's Gas 'N Go?" He answers with a silent nod. "It's in walking distance of my house. I can meet you there at 7:30."

"Excellent! I guess I'll see ya then, huh?"

"Yeah," I answer softly. And with that, he waves a goodbye and walks out the door. I sigh, then frown at myself. I should be excited for what's to come next Saturday. Instead, I feel hollow.

I begin to hear children's giggles invading my pity party. It sounds sweet and care-free. I slip off my wooden stool and follow the laughter to the back of the library. A dozen or so kids are sitting cross-legged at Ms. Linda's feet, gazing up at her with giant grins. She's sharing an old tale about a selfish Raven and how he tricks his wife out of a tasty snack of wild onions. At the end of the humorous story, a child shoots his hand up. "Yes, Joey?" she says.

"Do you know any other stories besides ones about animals?"

"I sure do. What would you like to hear?"

"Something scary!" little Joey shouts. Many of the kids chatter in agreement. One says they want a ghost story. Another mentions monsters.

Ms. Linda smirks. "Monsters, eh? I don't know... Those stories might be too scary for kids your age."

"No they aren't! I saw Gremlins last year and only had to close my eyes once! " Several children echo this claim.

"All right," she huffs in mock exasperation. "But if this gives you kids nightmares tonight, don't blame me."

She doesn't utter another word until the squirming children settle down. The room quietens enough where I can hear myself breathing.

"The Quileute are a small, peaceful tribe," she begins. "We fish. We hunt. We take care of one another. That has been our way of life for over a millennia. But, sometimes we cannot avoid a fight and we must defend ourselves. La Push has suffered through many attacks. Sometimes we fought against people. Other times, we had what you would call 'monsters' to deal with.

"Now, monsters come in many types, and not all are evil. The Baskalitith are helpful and have taught a chosen few the art of basketmaking. Some monsters are tricksters and love to make our lives more difficult. But it's the dangerous monsters that I'm sure you're more interested in. One is the Poeoaksadat. She is a giant woman who lives in the ocean. She is like Medusa - one look at her face and you are dead. Another monster is the Tastas. He lives by inland streams and hunts with his three foot long toenails, so it's best to keep a sharp lookout for him when you're exploring the forest. As you can see, the Quileute know of many monsters you wouldn't want to run into. But, there is one we fear above all others. Their name is Apotampkin, or the 'Cold Ones' as they are often called now."

Little Joey wrinkles his nose in distaste. "Cold Ones? That doesn't sound scary."

Ms. Linda raises her brow. "Oh, but they are, Joey. They came to be known by that name because of their skin. It's as cold as ice and the color of winter's snow. The Cold Ones are like walking blocks of stone, no arrow can pierce through their bodies. Their chests are silent and empty. That is why they are deadlier than a rattlesnake bite. A creature without a beating heart has no respect for life. They're also stronger than a grizzly bear and run faster than the wind.

"Their most dangerous quality is that they appear just like you or me, but with faces more beautiful than a sunset. Many a man and woman have been lured away from the reservation by a Cold One's face. That's how they catch us unsuspecting humans."

A girl of nine or ten throws her hand up in the air. "What do the Cold Ones do with the people they catch?"

One of Ms. Linda's eyes squints in deliberation. "Hmm...are you sure you want to know?"

A chorus of "Yes!" echoes in the room.

"O-K." She leans forward in her seat, staring at each child individually. "The Cold Ones... drink blood."

There is a collective gasp. A few kids look more intrigued than ever.

"So, the Cold Ones are vampires?" Joey asks.

Ms. Linda nods her head. "That's right."

"If they're so powerful, how come they don't go ahead and eat all of us humans?"

Ms. Linda smiles. "You forget that with every story about evil monsters, there's always a hero to save the day." She stands up and displays her traditional Quileute blanket robe for all to see. "They say when the Cold Ones try to attack our reservation, some of our tribe will turn into this - the wolf."

One of the kids cocks his head skeptically. "What good would a wolf be against a vampire with all those powers?"

"These are no ordinary wolves our people turn into. They stand as tall as a horse and are very strong. Their teeth and claws are the only things sharp enough to break through the Cold Ones' skins. A pack of Quileute wolves could easily destroy a vampire."

Another child with wide, worried eyes meekly raises their hand. "Um. Ms. Linda? What's gonna happen when the Cold Ones attack Forks and not La Push? Would the Quileute still come and help us fight them?"

Ms. Linda's face softens. "This is make believe, honey. None of this is real. The Cold Ones are like unicorns, dragons, or Godzilla. They're just fun characters in stories that you can tell around a campfire."

"Are you sure?"

She smiles. "I'm one hundred percent positive. Look at how old I am. I'm practically ancient. If there were vampires running around here, don't you think I'd have seen one by now?" Her adoring fans giggle into their hands. "I think we've talked enough about monsters today. Let's move on to something else..."

When she begins a tale about the origin of the whale, I take a peek out the door and spot a library patron waiting at the front desk. I sneak away without Ms. Linda ever realizing I had been there.

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There's a saying that goes, "Time heals all wounds." I'm not sure it applies in my case. Whoever thought it up had obviously never met the likes of Edward Cullen.

Almost two weeks have passed since I last saw him and I feel as crumby as ever. Worse, actually. My life has settled back into its old routine with nothing much to brighten the dullness. I eat when it's necessary, sleep when I get tired, and attend the school where I continue to be the outcast. The only improvement between B.E. (Before Edward) and A.E. (After Edward) is that no matter how much the other students may look down their noses at me, nothing they might do or say could possibly hurt worse than how I already feel.

Something else has changed since Edward moved from Forks. I'm not sure if it's good or bad yet. I now have a father who has decided that it's time to act like he cares about me.

It's been strange living with this new Charles Swan. I don't know him, and he sure as heck doesn't know me. I guess that's the reason why he plays twenty questions with me every night. I'm not exactly thrilled by it. All I want to do is eat my dinner, not shoot the breeze with a man who previously avoided me like the plague for the past ten years. After the fight where I revealed how much his neglect had hurt me, my dad said he wanted to fix the damage he had caused. I don't know if he ever can, and a part of me doesn't want him to even bother. Of course, I won't ever tell him that. I don't want to suffer through any more drama. If he thinks asking me how my day went makes everything better, fine. I'll go along with it for now just to keep the peace.

Tonight is the dance, an event hundreds of other people are stoked about attending. Me, not so much. I've been more excited getting my teeth cleaned than going to this party. Though, I did spend a good amount of energy preparing for said event. I gave my dad a lame excuse about needing to do a school project with a nonexistent Chemistry partner. He's so overworked right now, he won't have the time to ferret out the truth. I also made a trip to the local drug store and picked up a few essential items. After I came home from a day working at the library, I threw my hair into a side ponytail and used my new curling iron. My hair turned out OK. The makeup I bought was more problematic. I'm so used to my colorless complexion, the vibrant colors of the lipstick and eyeshadow looked awkward on me. I wiped it off my face and decided to apply everything with a lighter hand. The results were better this time. I no longer looked like a rodeo clown.

Everything is ready for tonight... except for me. I'm a nervous wreck. I'm pacing my room, back and forth, as the clock ticks closer to show time. I'm going on my first date - and it's with a boy I don't really know and have absolutely no feelings for. How am I going to keep him from knowing that a date with my TV sounds more tempting than a night out with him? I'm not that great of an actress. To be honest, Todd would probably have been better off escorting a lunch lady to the dance instead of Miss Negative Nancy here.

I sigh for the third time in a row and watch the setting sun fill my room with its lingering light. One particularly bright ray catches my eye. It hits an item resting on my dresser that's almost as gold as the sunlight.

The locket. The one Edward gave me.

I cross the room and scoop it up in my hand. The metal is cool to the touch and strikingly beautiful. Lockets are supposed to be used and treasured, not wasting away on a dresser. It would make a nice accessory to wear at the dance.

My only accessory.

I flip open the pendent. It's empty. That doesn't seem right. A locket shouldn't be empty. But, what would I stick in there?

A past conversation comes to me out of nowhere. Edward told me a story about his mother. She had missed her husband whenever he had to go away on long trips, so she carried his hair around in the locket to feel closer to him. I can still remember what Edward said when he was trying to convince me to take the locket home.

"My mother was a sentimental woman. She would want this to go to someone of a similar mind. I think you fit the bill. Find something important to you - like something of your mother's - and put it inside."

I rush over to a shelf and pull down several heavy books laying on top of an old telephone directory. Holding my breath, I crack it open to the exact middle. I exhale in relief once I see a small, dark blue flower. It's perfectly pressed. The petals lay flat and are almost paper thin. I carefully lift it up and admire it. Once upon a time, a boy gave this to a girl after she had the worst day ever. The girl loved it so much, she wanted to preserve it. Then the boy moved to a distant land and inadvertently took away her ability to laugh and smile. This flower and the locket in her hand are all that the girl has left to remember him by.

I place the pressed flower in the locket. It looks nice but I can't close the pendent. I grab a pair of scissors, and with surgeon's precision, I snip off the gray-white stem. The flower fits perfectly inside of it now. I hang the necklace around my neck and look in the mirror again. My head is higher. The gaze of my eyes is less weak and worried. It looks like I've borrowed some of Edward's I-don't-give-a-damn-what-you-think attitude. Good, because I'll need it tonight. I doubt there will be too many people at the dance who will be happy to see me.

I take the dress that's sprawled out on my bed and fold it so it won't wrinkle. It goes straight into my book bag from school. I can't risk putting on the dress until I get to the gas station where I'm supposed to meet Todd. A girl walking the roads in an evening gown would draw a few extra glances from passers-by. The book bag gives the added impression that I really am going to be doing school work at someone's house instead of attending a party. That's a definite plus.

I throw on a jacket and shield my made-up face with its hood. The walk to the gas station takes only a handful of minutes. Their bathroom is located on the side of the building. Luckily for me, they keep it unlocked. I open the door and crinkle my nose. The bathroom smells like stale cigarette smoke and something that needs to be flushed down the toilet. I suffer through the stench and carry on with what I have to do to get ready. When I come out of the bathroom stall, I stare at my reflection in the dirty mirror. My dress is ruffled and modern. My posture is straight and poised. And, most importantly, I still look like me... only a little older and less bland.

The sun is gone completely by the time I exit the bathroom. I stand at the back of the gas station until I spot Todd behind the wheel of a large truck. He drives up to me and mentions I look pretty good. I feel pretty awful, honestly, but I thank him for the compliment anyway. Todd is wearing a white suit and blue t-shirt, appearing casual and dressy at the same time. He's also cheerful this evening and very talkative. Other than asking about how my day went, the ride to the party is filled mostly with the sound of his voice alone. I am somewhat grateful he doesn't expect me to join the conversation. I don't feel like talking much anymore.

After a drive through the countryside, we arrive at a building sitting in the middle of nowhere. It's built of faded brown wood while the roof is rusted tin. Todd says he heard this place was once a sawmill back in the early '30s. I'm glad to see that the inside looks a lot better than the outside. There's less cobwebs, less dust, and less of a feeling that the building might fall down on us at any moment. Somehow, there's even electric lights to brighten up the large room. And, everywhere I look, I see people either dancing or swaying to the music blasting from the sound system.

"Whoa. This is a great place for a party, right?" Todd says. Before I can answer, he plows on. "It's huge. I heard it took weeks to clean this joint up. They went through, like, gallons of floor cleaner and..."

I kind of tune him out as I notice hundreds of eyes on me. Most I recognize but I've never spoken to their owners. One familiar pair narrows on me, casting a look so hateful that I shiver. Looks like Heather won't be welcoming me with open arms to the party tonight.

"...and Blaine Gibson said there was still stacks of logs in here. Must've been there for decades. He and the guys had to carry it all outta here by hand. Took them a whole day!" Todd takes a quick breath. "How about we go sit down for a sec?"

I follow him over to some folding metal chairs sitting out of the way. The seats are uncomfortable, just like the atmosphere in this room. Why is everyone still staring at me? I'm dressed up just like they are, so I know I fit in clothing wise. Is it because of who I am? What do they think I'm going to do? Whip out a walkie talkie and radio my dad the coordinates to their party? Or, maybe they just recognize that I am a poser. I can dress like them and act like I belong, but they all know that I don't.

While I'm pondering this question, Todd tells me about some incident from the day before. I only half listen but I do get the gist of it. Apparently, a freshman from his P.E. class got shoved from behind during a basketball game, somehow did a flip in the air, landed flat on his butt, and then had to get his tailbone x-rayed. Todd clutches his abdomen as he guffaws at the story. I give a wobbly, uncertain smile. I really don't see what's so funny.

He tosses out a question once his laughter dies down. "Hey, you thirsty? How about I get us something to drink before we dance?"

My body stiffens at that last word he used.

Well...shit. Edward's been on my brain so much, I forgot that I'll be expected to dance at this dance.

I nod my head in response to Todd's question and watch him until be vanishes into the swarm of moving bodies. Then my fingers start fidgeting in my lap. What am I going to do? When I think of dancing, it's Edward's hands I imagine resting on my hips. How can I dance without him? And, I've only practiced a couple of times! Maybe Edward was only humoring me when he said I was a quick learner...

A thunderous sound suddenly shakes the old building's foundation. I flinch in my seat and take a glance around. I notice a large, barn-like door has been left wide open to allow the cool night breeze to flow inside. I expect to see dark clouds and rain approaching. All I see is a clear, starry sky.

After a moment's hesitation, I arrive at an answer and shake my head. Lake Bryant isn't too far away from here. I bet it was those crazy night fishermen out causing trouble again. They toss in a couple of sticks of dynamite and collect the hundreds of fish that rise to the surface. It's very unsportsmanlike and damages the lake's ecosystem. I hope a game warden catches them in the act. Those illegal fishermen would probably receive stiff fines and jail time.

With that mystery solved, I revert to thinking about my original problem. I study the people out there dancing to the fast paced song rocking this place. They all look to be having fun with their dates, but I notice no one is touching. There's even a small group of girls laughing and dancing together.

That's it.

Slow songs are my problem. They require you to get all close and intimate with your partner. So, as long as I dance to only fast songs tonight, I should be fine. It'll be like I'm dancing by myself, only with Todd in close proximity to me. I think I might be able to handle that...

"Here you go!" Todd exclaims, thrusting a red plastic cup at me. "Sorry it took me a while. The line was long."

"It's OK." I take the cup from his outstretched hand and he sits back down. Then I glance inside of it, expecting to see punch or soda. I don't see either one. The liquid is dull yellow with a little foam at the top. It reminds me of the urine sample I had to give the doctor's office that time I had a tract infection. This is beer, I think. I've taken a swig or two from my dad's refrigerator stash for experiment's sake, so I do recognize it. Although I didn't love the taste, it wasn't terrible either. Out of curiosity, I take a sniff from the cup. My nose threatens to fall from my face. Dad's beer didn't smell vaguely like untreated sewage water, but this stuff sure does.

I glance over at Todd. He's drinking like there's no tomorrow. Half of it vanishes in almost no time at all. He must not think it's gross. Maybe this brand of beer tastes better than it smells.

I lift the cup to my mouth and swallow. My gag reflex kicks in immediately. I spit the mouthful back into the cup. It was extremely bitter, with subtle undertones of rotten eggs. Also, it was way too warm, once again reminding me of that urine sample. No wonder only a few people appear to be drinking this stuff.

Todd dries his wet lips with his knuckles and casts a smile my way. "It's good, isn't it?"

"Uh..."

"I knew you'd like it. Did you know the only reason why this party has any beer is because of me? Chad - that's my brother - he's at UDub and has a fake ID. It comes in handy a lot. He was the one who bought that keg sitting over there. See, he originally bought it 'cause he was planning on throwing a killer party at the end of the winter term. Then his fraternity got in trouble for some prank they pulled, and now they can't host any parties for, like, a whole year. Anyway... his roommates would have drank all this up themselves if they knew anything about it. But, see, my brother's real smart and found the perfect hiding place. I had to cough up a shitload of cash to convince him to sell that keg to me. It was worth it, though. This party would have sucked if we only had punch."

My suspicions start tingling. Maybe there is an explanation why this beer tastes and smells like a dead skunk's armpit. I stare at Todd for a long moment before forming a question. "Your brother hid the keg? Where?"

"His frat house's basement. No one thought to check there."

"Does this basement have a furnace?"

Todd looks over at me with a surprised expression. "Yeah. How'd you know?"

I frown down at my cup o' skunk. Extreme heat and alcohol should never mix. "Lucky guess," I murmur.

"Hey! You've hardly touched your beer. You don't have to conserve it, Bella. Drink up!"

I almost cringe at his suggestion but manage to keep it together. Being the guy that brought the keg to the party is obviously a big deal to him. I sure don't want to be the one to rain on his parade and reveal that I'd rather drink a bottle of Elmer's glue than anything from that particular beer keg. I pretend to take a few sips just to get him off my back. He smiles and starts chatting again about his social life. While he's distracted, I scan my surroundings for ideas on how to get rid of this stuff. We're currently sitting by ourselves in a darkly lit corner. No one is paying us the least bit of attention. Taking my chances, I dump the contents of my cup on to the floor beside my chair. The splash it makes is covered up by the loud, thumping music. Todd doesn't notice a thing. I feel bad for making a mess in this old building, but this was a matter of self-preservation. I'm too young to die from alcohol poisoning.

A couple of minutes later, Todd pauses talking. His eyes flick down to my empty cup. He laughs. "Wow, Bella! You drink faster than me. You must have been real thirsty."

"Yeah. Real, real thirsty," I nod choppily.

"Why didn't you say something sooner? I would've gone to the refreshment table and gotten you more if you had asked." He grabs my cup and rises from his chair.

I swear my life flashes in front of my eyes.

"T-that's OK," I stutter in panic. "I don't need anything else to-"

"Just hold on and I'll be right back." And then he's gone.

"-drink," I finish to myself.

He's back much too soon with my red solo cup. It's filled to the brim. I give him a halfhearted thanks in return. As I'm pondering how I'm going to get rid of this new batch, Todd resumes talking about... school, or football, or whatever. I'm sort of lost now. Every time I believe he is going to get to a point in the story, he veers off course and brings up something else.

While he blabs on, the boy operating the stereo system puts on a new song.

You must be my lucky star

Cause you shine on me wherever you are

I suck in a breath. Once upon a time in a meadow deep in the forest, this song played on Edward's tape player. He tried to skip over it, saying Madonna's music was overrated. I mentioned how I liked the song, never expecting for him to hit play again just so I could listen to the rest of it. But that's exactly what he did.

My throat constricts at the memory, almost shutting off my airway. This is just great. Now I miss Edward even more than before.

"All right!" Todd shouts. His head bops along to the music. "Madonna! I love her."

I stare at him as though he sprouted two heads. "You like Madonna? You don't think she's... overrated?"

Todd stops moving to the beat. "Overrated?" The space between his eyebrows wrinkles. "Huh? When did she stop being popular?" He muses over that question for approximately three seconds before shrugging a shoulder. "Oh well. I guess I shouldn't listen to her anymore either if that's the case."

I sigh at myself. I've officially gone crazy. I shouldn't act surprised just because Todd likes something Edward doesn't. They're two different people. Is this how I'll be for the rest of my life? Comparing everyone I may happen to come across to a boy I knew briefly in high school? That wouldn't be fair to them, and it definitely isn't healthy for me.

I have to fix this.

I slap my forehead as though I just realized something. "You know what, Todd? Never mind. Madonna is fine. I must have been confusing her with someone else. All this beer I've drunk must be screwing with my head."

He goes from vaguely confused to grinning in a flash. "But you're only on your second cup. Are you saying you're a lightweight?"

"I guess so..." In all honesty, I have no clue how much it would take to get me hammered. I'm kind of curious now. Though, there's no way I'm going to find out tonight when all there is to drink is this shit that was brewed in Satan's bathtub.

With a laugh, he grabs the cup from my hand and sets it on the floor. "Come on. We'll drink some more later. Let's dance."

I follow him slowly out to the dance floor, my nerves on edge. A couple of people glance our way but that's about it. They don't order me to leave or scowl as though I'm human garbage. It appears at least some of these people have accepted my presence here without much of a fuss.

Now it's time to dance.

I close my eyes and let the music guide my movements. I start dancing from side to side, swaying my hips and rocking my shoulders. My mind wanders to where it wants to go. And, unsurprisingly, it arrives back at the meadow. I have another dance partner waiting for me there. I see a mop of untidy hair and eyes of gold. Edward dances with me flawlessly, a hint of a smile on his face. Even in my daydreams he moves with a graceful swagger...

"Woo! Crank it up!" Todd yells.

With the spell broken, I open my eyes back to reality. I wish I hadn't. Todd's arms are bent at the elbows and moving up and down, as though he expects to take flight at any moment. He's really getting into this song and dancing like there's nobody watching. Of course, we're not that lucky. It turns out that we're receiving a lot of attention - and not the good kind. People in every direction are staring over here. Then, to make matters worse, Todd decides just flapping his wings - I mean arms - isn't good enough. He adds a more complicated dance move to his arsenal. His entire body goes from a standing position all the way to a crouch. This happens over and over again.

What the hell? He looks like a chicken squatting down to...well, you know.

I can hear the snickers and snarky comments of people nearby. My face flushes from the embarrassment. Edward taught me how to dance so I wouldn't look like a fool tonight. We succeeded in that goal. But now I see that Todd also could have used a dance lesson or two...hundred.

I'm inwardly cheering when the song finally nears its end. I feign a leg cramp and retreat back to our chairs, not bothering to see if Todd will follow. I also "accidentally" kick my cup over with my foot, the beer tumbling out like a flood. I'm more than a little disappointed when Todd ends up catching me in the act. He swoops in and cheerfully volunteers to replace what I spilled.

He's back in almost no time and hands me my cup while gulping heavily from his own. I can't help but frown at his guzzling throat. How does he drink that stuff? Can he not tell how disgusting it is? Did he hit his head too hard out on the football field and his sense of taste was affected? Enquiring minds want to know.

Lowering his cup to his lap, he gives me a goofy grin. The alcohol must be giving him a buzz now. I'm glad at least one of us is happy. He dips his head towards me. "Nice necklace."

"Err. Thanks."

He leans in for a closer look. "Is that a locket?"

"Yes."

"What's in it?"

My hand flies to the locket as though he just threatened to rip it from my neck. "Nothing really."

He raises an eyebrow, then he smirks. "Well, now you've got me really curious. What do you have in there? A picture of an old boyfriend?"

"No."

"Then c'mon. Show me."

I exhale, my shoulders drooping. I'm being ridiculous again. I should just show him what's in there so he'll move on to something else. Using my thumbnail, I pry the locket open.

He blinks hard. "It's a flower." I nod. He scoots his chair even closer than before and, without asking, lifts the pendent up for a better look. "Where'd you get this?"

"Uh... A friend found it when they were wandering around the woods outside of town. I like to collect unusual flowers, so they decided to give it to me." That's a semi-truthful summary of what happened.

Todd shakes his head in the negative. "Nah. You must've heard wrong. The woods can't be where your friend found this. This is synthyris lanuginosa, the woolly kittentail. They're Alpine flowers that prefer dry, rocky soil. Only place in the world where you'll find these are up on top of the Olympic Mountains, usually at around five to seven thousand feet."

My head jerks. "Are you sure?"

He chuckles and backs away. "Totally. I can even prove it to you. Did you get a look at the stem?" I confirm his question with a head nod. "OK, and was it a weird light gray color?"

"Well...yes. How did you know that?"

"My folks own the florist shop, remember? I know all about flowers, even the local wild ones. Mom made us kids learn the trade in case one of us ever decides to take over the business. I thought it was kinda lame when I was a kid, but I realize now it's a good skill to have. You wouldn't believe the amount of customers who come into the shop wanting a bouquet similar to a certain type of flower they saw on a hike."

Todd steers the conversation in a different direction, going into detail about his family's plans on expanding their shop. I, on the other hand, can't move past what he just revealed. Edward told me that he found the flower when he went on a bathroom break. We were in the meadow at the time, miles away from the mountains. Did he already have the flower in his pocket and then he pretended to find it in the woods? If that's the case, why would he lie to me? And how come it still looked freshly picked when he gave it to me? Most flowers wilt quickly without water.

I'm revived from my reverie when Todd laughs at one of his own jokes. I slap on a wan smile so he won't notice how far away my mind had been only a moment ago. I try to listen more attentively from here on out. I also come up with a new strategy to dispose of the unwanted beer in my hand. When he turns to wave at a passing friend, I pour some of my drink into his cup. He doesn't have a clue. I pour more whenever he glances away. It isn't long before my cup is empty again. I almost pat myself on the back for my ingenuity.

Once his cup is drained entirely, he starts asking for another dance. I'm not ready to be humiliated again, so I point at my leg and claim it's still too weak to support my weight. He good-naturedly accepts that response and attempts to make conversation.

"You ever played Cobra Command?"

My forehead wrinkles in confusion. "What?"

"You know, the new arcade game at the mall? Everyone's talking about it."

"Oh. Well, no. I haven't." Arcade games seem like a waste of money to me. You pump quarter after quarter into the machine, get far into the game, then it's time to go home for the night and you lose all that progress. At least when I read, I have what's known as a book mark to save my place.

"How about Punch Out?"

"No...but I did play Pac-Man once or twice."

"Hmm. Then I bet you'd like Ms. Pac-Man if you tried it."

"Isn't that just Pac-Man with a bow on top?"

"No way! There's like a ton of differences." He then proceeds to point them out for me. Every single one. Approximately ten minutes later, my eyelids feel like weights have been attached to them and he's still going strong. This boy sure can talk, and talk, and talk. He's like a reverse Rip Van Winkle. Instead of falling asleep for twenty years himself, he puts everyone he speaks to into a deep coma. The poor guy...

"Have you seen Police Academy 2 yet? It was awesome!"

The movie theater is in Port Angeles, too far away for my measly bike to reach. And as for the TV, it stays in the living room where Charles Swan hangs out after work and on the weekends. He mainly likes sports programs and crime dramas. I do not. So, I tend to stay up in my room after dark.

Having learned my lesson, I make sure to not say anything that could be misconstrued as a question. "No, I haven't seen it yet," I explain. "I don't watch movies very often unless they come on TV. And even then, I don't watch much TV either."

"Then what do you do for fun?"

"Reading mostly." And, at one time of my life, listening to music...

"That's cool. I don't read a whole lot anymore but I do sometimes when I'm bored. What do you like more? DC or Marvel?"

Ugh. Comic books.

"Neither. They aren't exactly my cup of tea," I reply.

"Oh." He nods knowingly. "I bet I can guess what you like. You're one of those chicks that avoids the super heroes and goes for the girlier stuff. Like, the Archie comics."

"Actually, I prefer books to comics."

"Really? So what's the last book you read all the way through?"

I take a moment to think back. "I just finished The True History of the Elephant Man."

His eyebrows raise, looking faintly impressed. "Huh. That sounds badass. Maybe I should give that book a try. I wonder who would win in a fight? The Incredible Hulk or the Elephant Man? The Hulk has those gigantic muscles and does a killer right hook, but I bet the Elephant Man's tusks would make a great weapon too. What do you think?"

I wait for him to laugh at his joke. Then it hits me.

He's not kidding.

"I...think I'm thirsty again." I hold out my cup for him to take. "Do you mind?" This might be a mistake I'll soon regret, but I'm desperate to get rid of him for a while. My brain cells need time to recuperate.

He slaps on an eager grin and snatches it from my grasp. "Sure! No problem."

My mood has only improved marginally by the time he reappears. While he talks, the one cup of beer he drinks turns into two since I again pour mine into his whenever he's not paying attention. How can he drink so much? His bladder must be huge.

I gotta take a little time

A little time to think things over

I better read between the lines

In case I need it when I'm older

The soft rock love song takes over the place. Dozens of people make a beeline for the dance area. Todd gazes out at them for a while and then back at me. "You... you wanna try dancing again?"

I hem and haw while pointing down at my supposedly injured leg. "I don't know..."

"Come on, Bella. We danced one time this whole night! And this is a slow song. It'll be easy. I'll even hold you up if you can't stand on your own." His eyes turn pleading.

I nibble at my lower lip, unsure of what I should do. It's true what he said. We've been here for hours and only danced once. Slow dancing wasn't exactly on my agenda tonight, but neither was watching him gyrate like an idiot to a pop song while I stood by helplessly. At least Todd can't do any embarrassing dance moves during a soft rock ballad. All he can do is sway from side to side, just like everyone else. Most of them are dancing with at least half a foot or more of distance between themselves and their partner. So, as long as we do the same, I should be able to at least dance with Todd one more time. Afterwards, I can call it a night and ask him to drive me home. I wasn't the perfect date he had probably hoped for, but at least I didn't tell him I wanted to leave sooner.

I nod my consent and we walk to the center of the room. He yanks at his collar and says he's a little warm. Would I mind stepping outside to dance where it's cooler? I shrug and follow him through the large sliding door. I relax a little once the night breeze blows across my bare legs. I hadn't realized before now how all those hundreds of bodies were making it unbearably humid in there.

We move a few feet to the side of the door and begin dancing. When he places his hands at my waist, I don't feel anything. No spark. No nervous jitters. No blazing heat. It's nothing like how I felt when a certain someone's hands had been there...

I shake that thought away and concentrate on getting through this one, last dance. Then maybe Todd won't be as disappointed that out of everyone he could have asked out, he chose the girl who could barely summon a smile the entire night. At least I don't have to worry about him asking me for a second date.

I wanna know what love is

I want you to show me

"You dance real good, Bella," he says.

"Thanks." I'd like to say the same about you, but...

"You smell good too."

I don't know how to respond to that one. His breath smells a little rancid after chugging down all that booze.

"You havin' a good time so far?" he asks.

"Um..."

"'Cause I sure am," he cuts in. "And I have a feeling it's gonna get even better." He puts his mouth to my ear and laughs softly. "I've been waiting for this ever since you got into my truck," he whispers.

Something in his voice makes me want to create additional space between us. "You were waiting to do - uh - what exactly?"

A grin spreads across his face. His hand suddenly drops from the safe zone of my waist, slides past my hipbone, and begins gathering up the soft fabric covering my legs. The dress gets shorter and shorter.

The tiny hairs on the back of my arms rise up in alarm. I guess he just gave me his answer.

I grab his roaming hand and put it back where it was before he got too adventurous. The ruffled skirt of my dress falls back to just above my knees. I clear my throat before I speak. "Please don't do that again."

He chuckles. "Why not? It's what you've been practically begging for all night. You kept letting that dresh...drezz... dr-ess ride up your legs. It was hot. No one's ever teased me like that before."

I stop dancing completely and stare up at him. There's a glaze to his eyes I hadn't noticed until now. The truth finally slaps me hard in the face. "You're drunk."

"You know it." He tries to wink but succeeds in only blinking both of his eyelids.

Wow. Real smooth.

My arms fall from around his neck and I try to back away a few more inches. "Um. It's getting late. I think it's time for me to go."

"Sounds great. We can go to my truck and do all the things I'm going to tell everyone we did anyway."

Bile burns the back of my throat. Who is this guy? It can't be the same one who chatted with me all of tonight. Is this the alcohol making him act like this? Or, has the real Todd been hiding underneath a friendly smile and the alcohol finally exposed him for what he is?

I gulp down my disgust and stare him down, dead in the eyes. "Listen, Todd. We're not going to be doing anything like that tonight. I barely know you."

"You'll know me soon enough baby," he purrs. I guess this is his attempt at seduction. It doesn't work, though. Trying to grope me after I already told you "no" isn't a turn on.

I begin backing away from him like he's a ticking time bomb. "Tell you what. Why don't I just get a ride home from somebody else? Then you can stay here and party all you want. Doesn't that sound good? OK? OK."

Todd's arms embed themselves around my middle, like fishhooks, and drag me back. I collide into his chest, the wind whooshing out of my lungs. "The fuck you are," he frowns. His once happy-go-lucky eyes have lost their shine. "You came with me, so you're staying with me."

"Let go. Don't make me scream."

His answering laugh makes my skin crawl. "Go ahead. Nobody's gonna come. The only reason why a guy and girl ever leave the dance before ten o'clock is so they can mess around. Everybody knows that. So even if they hear you cry out, they'll just think you're liking what I'm doing to you."

The blood in my veins goes ice cold. What have I gotten myself into? I should have stayed home tonight. Sure, I would have been bored and lonely, but at least I wouldn't be dealing with a pervy dickhead.

His hands start roaming again while under the guise of dancing with me. I wiggle in his grasp to free myself, but he's too strong. He's at least four inches taller and over fifty pounds heavier than me. Nothing I do deters him. I go to knee him in the groin, hoping he'll have a nasty hangover tomorrow plus a pair of busted nuts thanks to me. My heart sinks when he blocks my attempt to get away. His laugh is loud and cheerful, like he thinks we're playing a fun little game.

A finger appears out of nowhere and lands on Todd's left shoulder. It taps twice. Both he and I freeze mid-struggle.

"May I cut in?"

00000000000000000000

A/N-

Songs used in this chapter-

Lucky Star by Madonna. We've discussed this one before, so...

I Want To Know What Love Is by Foreigner. If you weren't alive during the '80s and are wondering what it felt like back then, just close your eyes and listen to this song. It's the closest to a time machine that I've found so far.

Next Chapter- I'm sure you have absolutely no clue who might be tapping on Todd's shoulder... Yeah, right. Who am I kidding? Yes, you do.

Is that all I'm going to say? Yup.

Thanks for reading! :-)