A/N: Hey, all! I said a fast update is what you'd get, and I keep my word. Thank you to the readers and reviewers who came through! I'm counting on you guys for the support to write this fic. This chapter is extra long and extra awesome all for you.

IMPORTANT: Many of you have been wondering about how Bella will get away with wearing a swimsuit. Good question. Well, this is how: a bodyskin swimsuit. For instance, living Olympic legend Michael Phelps was quite fond of his Speedo LZR Racer (here's a link for the pic: 2008/06/25/).

Such suits are ULTRA tight, so they'll hold down Bella's small breasts without the need for bandages, and they cover the body from the chest all the way to the knees or ankles. Bella will have to sew something small into the crotch though.

But remember that suits such as Phelp's LZR Racer are now banned in major games because too many swimmers have broken world records while wearing them. This ban is so recent I didn't know of it before writing. But in a fandom where eternity exists, why can't bodyskin swimsuits remain legal?

I felt as though I were standing inside an oversized kaleidoscope and peering out into a blurry, twisted world that refused to remain still.

I had always been a firm believer in remaining calm. Composure means everything when one hopes to remain successfully in disguise. After all, a moment's weakness can crumble all carefully composed plans.

But when you've insulted the one fuckhot man with the means to grant your dreams, well, composure is neither easy to regain or to fake.

So as I struggled with my gym clothes, nothing could wipe the terror from my face. I changed in a bathroom stall instead of in the locker rooms because Alice promised no one would care as long as I arrived on the field properly attired. My body jerked and shook, and it took five minutes to successfully pull both my feet into the royal blue sweatpants. Every time I moved, Edward's whispered words rang in my ears, but the volume was amplified to such a degree that my heart raced from the epinephrine surging through my bloodstream.

I had acted like a zombie in my last few classes.

Finally, I stood shivering on the track that wrapped around the massive football field. The weather was cloudy, and a bitter chill ran up my spine when an icy wind tore across the area.

The students in my P.E. class hugged their bodies and rubbed their arms for friction as we waited for the coach. At least the weather sided with me today, so I looked normal shivering from panic.

Maria waved slightly and walked over to me. "So, the first day will be a bitch. Ha, I can't believe I said that," she giggled self-consciously.

"No, it's true, I suppose the coach will be pretty tough on us," I said.

"Well, yes, but Cullen is the coach during the first week, or don't you remember?"

I felt like choking but managed to say, "Um, oh yeah, why again?"

Maria cocked her head and smiled. "You're slow today for someone in line to be valedictorian," she chuckled softly but thankfully seemed unsuspicious. "Coach Wilson always comes back from Africa a week after the fall semester begins. She volunteers at a school there, and Principal Cullen really supports her work, so he simply has Edward toughen us up for a few days. You remember how he had us do three grueling miles in 21 minutes or less that first day last fall?"

I swallowed hard and forced a grin. "Oh, it's coming back to me."

This was all I needed: Edward Cullen to beat the shit out of me with the perfect excuse.

In seconds, his voice sliced through the chill.

"The devil has arrived, children. Line up on the track."

Everyone rushed to comply.

Fuck, this was the end. Yeah, my carcass would be splayed out on the quad by twilight—the perfect time of day for creepy shit.

Edward's crooked grin made him appear frightening but authoritative as he stood before us in a form-fitting, white wife beater and baggy black pants. He had a bag of soccer balls slung over his shoulder and an ominous-looking whistle around his neck.

"Coach Wilson isn't around to coddle you all today, so whatever you do, restrain the tears and suck it up," Edward barked. He looked straight at me, and my eyes widened. Oh, fuckin' shit.

He spoke like a military officer crossed with a professor. That made no sense, but hell if it wasn't true. The condescension and discourtesy oozed perfectly from his demeanor. "Stretch well, kiddies. Three and a half miles of wonderfully packed dirt await the pitter patter of your eager little feet."

"Oh, hell no," Maria groaned.

"It's not too bad," I mumbled. "I was expecting five miles."

The whole group deflated like poked balloons, and I sighed before stretching my limbs.

"Alright, on the whistle," Edward shouted. People scrambled off the ground and away from the bleachers to line up. Some were mid-stretch, and one girl went cross-eyed from the pain of rising too fast from her splits.

The whistle blew, and I took off. The first few laps were slow, but as my body remembered the feeling of such wonderful movement, my speed no longer registered with me. The panic and fear subsided, dripping and evaporating along with my sweat. My lungs burned, and my calves screamed from the energy I was expending. But the healthy pain was like a sweet relief from all the stress and drama of my recent life of trickery. Running was like swimming in many ways: cleansing, calming, and numbing.

However, on the last lap, I belatedly realized no one was near me. In fact, they were all practically huddled around Edward and staring at me.

I stopped in shock and stared right back. My heart beat in my ears.

Maria was the first to step forward. "Jasper," she breathed, "you were an eighth of a mile away from breaking two track records. Why'd you stop?"

I hesitantly made my way to the frozen group. Maria stared at me with disbelief and perhaps a hint of indignation. Her voice rose as she said, "You hate running! I mean you were never bad at it or anything, but it might as well have been the bane of your existence."

Crap, I had to fix something else now. Time to lie again.

I spoke, "Running was sort of cathartic for me in the summer, Maria. It got me through tough times. That's why I'm pretty good now."

"Pretty good? Pretty fucking good?" Mike's voice rose from somewhere within the group. "That was the hottest thing I've seen in years."

Chuckles rippled like a wave through the group, and the ice was finally broken.

Everyone slapped me on the back and smiled. I felt oddly warm inside and much better than I had in days. A boy named Tyler made me promise to run with him in the mornings, and a small brunette tried to squeeze my ass when she hugged me in congratulations. I slapped her hand away and probably looked affronted, but she just giggled.

I studiously ignored Edward throughout the whole ordeal.

I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the bell rang, and I hurried to grab my clothes from the lockers and head to a bathroom.

I stepped out of the restroom in the corner of Sherman Hall when two long arms slapped against the wall behind my neck, effectively caging me in by the bathroom door.

"Oh, my G—," I began.

"No, it's Edward, not a divine being capable of mercy." His eyes were like murky, green acid. They fizzled and smoldered with a toxicity reserved for pure poison. Consequently, my bones turned to jelly, and I was panting in fear.

He smelled my terror, and his lips pulled up in one corner. "So, Jasper, how are we feeling today?"

"Good." My voice was a squeak.

He leaned in closer, and my nerves went haywire as I stared at his lips. He whispered, "Better than good from what I saw on the field. Care to explain your sudden sports finesse?"

"I, um…."

"You, um, what?" his face was practically flat against mine.

"I've always liked sports. I just never really showed it."

"Oh, I see," Edward said sarcastically as he nodded. "The year I finally become captain of the swim team, you decide you want in as well?"

Wait, what? What was this all about? His anger and suspicions made no sense, yet something tugged at the periphery of my brain. Some piece of the puzzle that was Edward Cullen eluded me, and I was both frightened and intrigued.

As a slight tremor rocked through my body, I looked in his eyes and realized that for all his menacing stares, this boy—no, this man—would never physically hurt me. I straightened up and fixed him with a level stare.

"What are you implying?" I said. "Be straight with me because you've lost me."

"Why are you trying out for the team?"

"Why does it piss you off so much?"

He scoffed. "You ran like a pansy during gym last year, boy. What's with the change of heart?"

"What's with your toxic eyes?"

"Fuck it, answer me!" he roared.

I cowered and he stepped away. His head was down, and I saw a flash of vulnerability in his face that vanished as soon as he raised his eyes.

"You have your place. I have mine. I suggest we stay where we are, understood?" He didn't wait for an answer, and I slid miserably to the floor as he stomped down the deserted hallway.

Sprawled across the couch in my common room, I stared at the ceiling. Mike was probably studying for his upcoming Latin exam in his room even though today had only been the first freaking day of classes. Teddy and Maria were somewhat more relaxed as they sat in front of the plasma television Mike had bought for the place. Their googly eyes and incessant groping threatened to cause spontaneous hyperventilation for us poor-yet-pretending-to-have-a-steamy-sex-life, single people.

I spoke with Alice after P.E., and she just smiled and told me her brother was insane. Why had she never told me about him anyway? When I asked, she simply shrugged. That was her signal to leave the topic alone because I shouldn't want to know the answer—yet again. Therefore, I was suspicious her visions or "feelings" had something to do with her unusual secrecy.

As I counted the odd-shaped dots in the wooden ceiling above me and bitterly stewed over my day, I unknowingly drifted to sleep.

I ran a bar of soap across my body in the men's showers. The water cascaded across my naked shoulders, between my breasts, and over my thighs. The lights were off, and only a sliver of moonlight offered illumination.

I shivered when the water turned ice cold.

Abruptly, the green shower curtain was pulled open, and a figure slammed me backwards against the white tiles.

"What the fuck is this?"

I recognized Edward's voice, but I could only see his bare chest and arms. He growled in my ear, "What's with the pussy, little one? And these sweet little breasts?"

He kneaded my chest so harshly it hurt, but my nipples hardened in response.

He ground against me, and I could feel the rock-hard bulge in his jeans against my stomach. The hollow between my thighs felt strange and needy. A moan escaped me, and his eyes met mine briefly before he snapped.

His jeans practically flew to the floor, and his cock thrust inside my core without warning. Muscled arms pulled my legs around his torso before he wrapped me in his tight embrace. He set a furious pace, and I was held immobile and completely unable to respond to him as he pounded me against the wall. He stroked me like a man stokes the embers of a long-dormant fire, and I knew I would burst into flames soon from the unbelievable stimulation.

His cock felt long and thick, and my body was so deliciously full I couldn't recognize myself. He took me with abandon and pure possessiveness, yet I delighted in every stroke, thrust, and growl that ripped from his heaving chest.

"Fuck, baby, you're devouring me." He moved so fast then that the pressure felt impossibly high. My body was spiked with some fever-inducing potion, and I felt like I couldn't take this anymore.

He hissed when I moaned pathetically loudly, and I felt his cock twitch and harden even more inside my burning body.

"Please," I whimpered. "Yes, I have to—oh—I can't—oh—PLEASE!"

"Please, Jasper!"

I rolled over.

"Jasper! Wake up. You need to stop shouting. You're okay!"

I opened my eyes to see Teddy's concerned face above mine. My body snapped up, and I looked at him in horror. "Uh, I—uh—fell asleep," I said lamely.

"Yeah, dude, I know," he responded. His face was scrunched with anxiety. "Maria left a half hour ago. You were cool until you started screaming. Have you been having nightmares often?"

A blush stung my face with its ferocity. "No, no," I was quick to say. "I think it was just the first day of school. All this stress, you know? Senior year is finally here. Yeah, that's it. The pressure—." I couldn't continue because all I could think of was the pressure—the pressure Edward had forced to a fever pitch in my willing body. I knew my underwear was ridiculously damp by now, and I could only feel grateful I hadn't been moaning Edward's name in my fitful sleep. I was normally pretty tight-lipped.

I squirmed from the wet feeling in my boxers, and Teddy took pity on me when he assumed I was embarrassed of my nightmares.

"Well, I'm going to bed, Jasper. Remember that you'll do fine this year. You and big-boy Cullen are head to head for valedictorian, and no matter what, everyone knows you're going to be super successful. Just get some rest for tomorrow and chill." He smiled reassuringly and left for his room.

I stared at the wall for a moment. Then I sighed and dragged myself into my own room.

Tomorrow would be a very long day.

I leaned against Cullen Hall while waiting for Alice to emerge from her dorm so I could walk her to class. I had been ignoring my more menial boyfriend duties, and Jasper had said that was a sin for which he would personally punish me. Before leaving for Spain, he promised to call by tonight to check up on both me and the charade, so I was looking forward to telling him about tryouts—whether they went well or if I was butchered.

A good night's rest had calmed my nerves, and a blazing determination flowed through me despite my anxiety over Edward's desire to keep me off the team. If I showed him he needed me, then surely he couldn't reject me. This was a running mantra in my mind meant to keep me sane and hopeful.

A bright yellow leaf swirled around me for a moment before landing on my shoulder. I plucked it and twirled it by the stem. When I noticed Alice approaching, I stuffed it into my pocket.

"Hello, love!" she sang. Pecking me on the cheek, she smiled and leaned back to examine my expression. "Yay, you're feeling better! Well, today is your day after all. Time for some dream-catching." She giggled then, and I blushed, realizing the double-meaning.

"How, Alice?" I asked, mortified at her precognitive abilities.

"Oh, come on, it was about time you had a proper fantasy about you-know-who. And not the dark lord, you naughty nerd! Oh, and it's not like I visually saw the thing. Oh, nasty. That thought needs to go away right now!"

She began hopping around on one foot with her head cocked to one side as if she were shaking water out of her ears.

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me then, and it took awhile, but when we both composed ourselves, we grabbed some breakfast and headed to Brighton Building, where my English class and Alice's history course were held during first period.

Edward ignored me during the course as well as in AP biology for second period. In the latter class, we were still in the stage of learning all the instruments and reviewing the basics of lab work, so everyone could sit wherever they pleased this week.

European history during third period was wonderful and relaxing for a change. I had the class with Alice, and I enjoyed it yesterday as well because the professor was a sweet European lady named Esme, who insisted we refer to her by her first name. She was stunning with her long caramel-colored hair, oval face, porcelain skin, and almond-shaped gold eyes. She wanted to ensure we had a firm foundation in history, so we began with an introduction to the history of Western civilization spanning from its origins in the Fertile Crescent of Mesopotamia.

"Alright, can anyone tell me the most famous, if not the greatest, contribution of the Sumerian civilization?"

I shot my hand into the air, and Alice giggled in amusement at my eagerness.

When Esme called my name, I said, "That would be writing, Esme, more specifically called Cuneiform, which consisted of wedge shapes and was written on heavy clay tablets by privileged scribes."

Esme smiled. "Correct, Jasper. After all, can you tell me what the word Cuneiform means?"

"Exactly what seems logical. It comes from a word meaning 'wedge-shaped.'"

Her smile grew and she turned to continue writing on the large chalk board.

Alice whispered to me, "This isn't Jeopardy. You're such a suck up."

"No," I whispered back. "I just finally have the chance to ostensibly excel in academics. Back at my public school, saying what I just did would have branded me a social outcast."

Alice nodded and rubbed my arm before turning back to the board.

The rest of the day sped by as I anxiously looked forward to the tryouts at 6 p.m.

Dinner was a tense affair—to put it mildly. I snapped at everything, but Alice remained patient and supportive. When it was time to get ready, my stomach was in knots and Alice was holding me around my shoulders in my room.

"Okay, here's your suit," she finally said, handing me my ridiculously expensive bodyskin swimsuit. It covered my chest and clung to my body all the way down to my knees. The fit was great for a skinny and lean guy. Tight and perfect, the suit flattened my tiny chest so well, I was almost embarrassed to look so much like Jasper. Alice had sewn a bundle of tough fabric on the inner layer of the crotch for me in the summer. We decided I should be relatively well-endowed.

If I was accepted onto the team, I would have to change in the shower cubicles with locks. Alice assured me it would be possible, but for now, I got ready in my room, threw on come clothes atop the swimsuit, grabbed my cap and goggles, and headed to the underground pool in Hale Hall reserved for the two swim teams. Hale Hall was located right next to the English building, so it was to the south and was one of the buildings farthest away from the dorms.

When I arrived with Alice, I was shocked by the Olympic sized pool and immense crowds forming both on the stands as well as by the water. At least fifty students were going to try out today.

This would certainly be tougher than I imagined.

Alice sensed my need to build up my strength in solitude, so she smiled and headed to the stands for a top row seat. I noticed Tanya near her and remembered that she was in my Calculus class. I did not need to think of her at the moment, so I turned away and focused on the water.

The pool was calm and beautiful. I imagined the cool water flowing around me, enveloping me, welcoming me. My body relaxed, and my mind followed suit. I remembered the pool in our backyard at home, where the sun danced across the tiny waves and formed multi-shaded crisscrosses of light on the water's surface. Like always, the water sent a siren's call to my ears, but this particular siren was well-meaning and supportive.

I found myself looking forward to diving into the pool and simply returning to my element.

A loud whistle sounded, and everyone turned to the diving board situated about ten feet above the pool on the other side. The packed bleachers were behind me, and the sixty nervous students in suits were crowded all around me.

On the diving board stood Edward Cullen, gloriously naked from the waist up in his tight jammers, beside a man I assumed was the team coach. Edward clutched a megaphone, and he leaned sideways towards the coach who was speaking in Edward's ear. I could have said Cullen's face was perfectly stoic, but even from this distance, I could see an odd excitement shining from his eyes.

It was quite the turnaround from a couple hours ago in P.E. when his expressions only ranged from agitated to tense. He worked our bodies like we were robots, and if I were not so physically fit, I would be worried about being burned out for the team tryouts. Yet something told me his goal had been just that. All the extra pushups I was ordered to complete due to my "lack of concentration on the soccer field" led me to believe I was right about the attempted sabotage.

Now, he raised the megaphone and said, "Alright. I'm Edward Cullen, the 2010 men's swim team captain. If you didn't register, don't waste our time. The rest of you, break up into ten groups of six and stand in line at the edge of a lane. First up is the 100 meter fly, then the 100 meter breast, 100 free, and the 100 back. We will time each one with a 5 minute break between every 100 meters.

Clearly, this will take a while since only ten people can go at a time, and we have about sixty registered. Afterward, don't forget that we have the 200 meter IM, my personal favorite for tryouts. Your time totals will be summed up by the many timekeepers here just for today to ensure fair judging. But the pool walls have touch pads, so no worries on that count. The 30 lowest times will represent our 30 new members, but remember that one of those spaces is reserved for me." He smirked and handed his megaphone to the coach.

The man was long, buff, and his raven black hair hung straight down to his shoulders. The look in his eyes seemed inhumanly hard and perhaps slightly nasty, but I liked the look of him all the same. This was a man who could shape and chisel a true team.

He spoke, "I'm Coach Drake. And I don't feel like imparting any wise words because you're either in or out, and I just care about those who make the final cut. Now, Edward will be swimming alongside you today to show you how it's done, and also because tradition dictates he has to try out every year along with the fresh meat. Now get in 10 lines. Oh, and good luck to the bastards who get stuck in the outside lanes."

Shit! Everyone all of a sudden pushed and shoved to get in position. One guy elbowed me in the stomach and another stepped on my foot as I headed for the third lane. I belatedly remembered that the first and last lanes are disadvantaged because waves bounce off the sides of the pool and slow down the swimmers fighting against them. Normally, those lanes are kept empty.

I scrambled to get a good spot, but soon all the male assholes had shoved me out of their way, and I was left in the tenth lane with the only other available spot in the first lane. Fuck me, Edward Cullen.

Inwardly groaning, I stood at the edge with five boys behind me in a line. I glanced up to see Cullen's amused eyes shift towards me and land on my face. He walked in my direction, and I felt chilly and fevered once more. His long, muscled arms swung at his sides, and all I could think of was how it felt to be trapped within them while he fucked my body. I remembered how his eyes smoldered, and his muscles tensed. None of it had been real, yet I could swear I knew how perfect and hard his dominating cock felt inside me. It scared me how wonderful it had felt to be tugged and twisted and conquered pretty much like a live sex toy. I knew I wanted sweet and slow too, but maybe I was more attracted to roughness and control.

What was wrong with me anyway? This man could barely stand my existence, let alone want to be with me that way. For all intents and purposes, I was a man, and now Edward seemed almost ready to commit murder as he advanced.

Yet, instead of stopping to threaten me, he turned to the person right beside me at the head of the ninth lane.

"Get in the first lane, Vespucci," Edward ordered.

The boy rushed off and Edward took his place. Then Cullen turned to me and winked. Fuuuuuuuck.

"Okay, people," Coach Drake called. "The first ten of you will show us what you got with the 100 fly. Get ready for the horn."

On time, we all burst into the water, and as soon as we were off, I knew this was not just a tryout anymore. Cullen had turned it into a race.

Sadly, the butterfly was my weakest stroke. With arms shorter than a regular male swimmer, I was already at a disadvantage, and my dolphin kick was only slightly better than average. Edward sped past me, and I struggled with the waves disrupting the water in my lane. The choppiness angered me, and I allowed it to mess with my concentration.

When I touched the wall at the end, I let out a long low curse before turning to the scoreboard.

I was a close ninth, and obviously Cullen was first. To my right, he wasn't even panting. One arm held the pool edge above his head as he leaned against the wall, and he just smiled sweetly at me.

"Okay there, Swan?" he asked.

"I hate the freakin' fly," I growled.

"Well, it certainly hates you."

"Fucker." And I totally meant that expletive.

I dunked my head underwater and stayed beneath the surface for a minute, just gathering my thoughts and strength.

When I emerged, I noticed Edward glancing at the stands. I followed his line of sight, and I could see Alice with a banner that read "Swans Rule the Water." Where did that come from? Had she been carrying a roll of huge butcher paper in her back pocket that I failed to notice? She was chanting Jasper's name at the moment. It was cheesy but really sweet, and I couldn't stifle a chuckle.

I smiled and turned back to the lane ahead of me. Next up was the breaststroke. Now that I could do.

The horn sounded, and I was off once more. In my peripheral vision, I could see Edward neck and neck with me. His strokes were smooth and powerful, but though I was shorter, I was faster. He gained a few feet on me, and I pushed harder. We touched the wall at the 50 meter point and made our turns back to finish the last half of the 100 meter breaststroke.

Edward's turn was smoother, and I found myself lagging.

Fuck, no.

I turned all my attention ahead and focused on moving faster. His arms finished a stroke as mine began a new one. Stroke, stroke, stroke.

We sped towards the touch pad.

Finally, I could see the floating markers change color, signaling the last five meters of the lane. I pushed even more and desperately touched the pad with the tips of my fingers.

The crowd was going crazy, but I didn't know for whom.

I stared at the wall, hesitant to read the scoreboard.

When I turned, my jaw dropped. Edward and I tied.

Edward was fuming silently beside me.

"Feels weird sharing your pedestal, huh?" I asked.

"Just wait till I push you off," he replied.

I grinned. "So you admit you're sharing?"

"Fucker," he returned tersely.

"That's right, and Alice loves me for it. She said so last night."

His eyes widened, and he just disappeared beneath the water. Oh, fuck, not again with my dang mouth.

I freaked out, splashing around and expecting an underwater attack.

After two minutes, nothing happened.

I relaxed, and that's when he elbowed me in the crotch. I doubled over after a moment, pretending to gasp in pain as Edward emerged in his lane a second later. The bastard had come at me from way below, so no one would suspect him.

"Try getting your rocks off now," Edward smirked.

I tried not to laugh. Really I did. I think my expression just came out looking constipated.

A couple minutes later, Edward had his real vindication by beating me at the backstroke.

I ignored his smug smile and focused on the next round—my favorite style: the free.

During the final 50 meters, I gained a foot on Edward. My arms were fast, and my feet were perfectly in synch. I wasn't concentrating. I was simply lost in the feel of the water, so when I touched the wall and saw my name in the first place position, I felt numbly euphoric.

Edward didn't look upset. His chiseled face was covered with the perfect mask of indifference, so I had to hand it to his control.

Panting heavily, I smiled at Alice in the crowd. She was ecstatic, and her chicken dance looked amazing on top of a bleacher.

I had to leave the water for the next ten hopefuls to take their turn, and as I waited, Coach Drake walked by.

"Good speed, Swan. But your form sucks," he said in passing.

Well, that was probably his idea of a compliment. I smiled and nodded.

Later, the IM, or individual medley, proved extremely tiring. Exhausted, I barely made second place, but I was happy because if I had been neck and neck with Cullen for most of the tryouts, then I figured I had to get a spot on the team. Hopefully, my atrocious time for the butterfly wouldn't ruin my chances, and Edward wouldn't try something underhanded. He may be captain, but I was pretty sure the coach had more of a say in who joins.

If this was a fair trial, then only my time should matter.

I dried off and took a seat next to Alice.

She smiled and wiggled her brows. "Look who just made passionate love with H20!"

"What? Seriously, Alice?" I asked.

"Hey, we both know that if you could fuck water, you totally would."

"Is that your way of congratulating me?"

"Why, yes. I suppose it is." She was very matter-of-fact about it.

"Puppies!" Drake called through the megaphone. "Your times are being tabulated. The scoreboard will name the top 30 in order shortly. I think we'll put up the rest of you too. Just for fun."

I heard some groans. My stomach was suddenly in knots. Was hyperventilation something I could get away with right now?

A second later, the scoreboard changed, and 30 names lit up the screen.

My heart stopped in the second it took to find my name.

Edward was number one. Damien Hale was number 2. Emmet McCarty was number 3. My eyes scrolled farther down the list.

I was number 6 out of 30.

I made it.

And I realized Alice had me in a chokehold.

"You did it! Yay, Jasper!" She rose and started chanting all over again. I couldn't bring myself to ask her to stop.

"Okay," Drake called. "Settle down. SETTLE DOWN, LITTLE CULLEN GIRL!"

Alice sat and waved at him.

Drake continued, "If you didn't make it, try again next year. If you're a senior who didn't make it, I guess this is when you learn life's a bitch. Now, for those of you who don't know, the members of the team live together on the third floor of Damen Hall to promote team spirit. We'll be posting the living arrangements outside Cullen Hall tomorrow morning at 7. Pack up and be ready to move out by tomorrow night, little fish. Oh, and welcome." That last sentence was said quite reluctantly.

Next morning, I eagerly waited for the chart to be posted. The sun had yet to rise, but I was packed and excited to begin this new chapter of time. I hadn't slept the entire night, opting to celebrate the greatest achievement of my life so far with my best friend/false lover. Alice and I just watched old movies and ate popcorn until we passed out.

Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I watched Steven Forester tack a sheet of paper on the wall. He smiled at me and walked away.

I rushed forward to find my name.

Name: Jasper Swan

Room: 377A

Type: Double—Shared Bath

Move-in Time: Thursday—Sept. 3—6:30 p.m.

Roommate(s): Edward Cullen