He was being more aggressive than usual. The normal heated interaction between us had given way to an abnormally forceful makeout session.

Dusk had fallen hours ago. Edward kept my face tightly between his hands as we lay across the back of his shiny new pickup truck. He pressed the entire length of his body atop mine, thrusting his tongue in and out of my panting mouth.

He held both my hands in one of his above my head. If I squirmed, he pressed against me harder, held my hands tighter, or just growled a warning into my mouth. I gave in quickly, allowing this onslaught of passion I couldn't control. He seemed drunk with the power he had over my body, and I didn't bother taking it back. I enjoyed it instead.

Eventually, his kisses slowed into something languid and lazy. He moved back only far enough to look down at me, holding me still all the while. For long moments all he did was gaze, his emerald eyes burning into mine before sweeping like smoky feathers across my cheeks.

One finger seemed to linger at the tiny beauty mark above my eyebrow.

But then his eyes grew hard, and he attacked my mouth once more.

At one point, Edward released my face to run his hand up my shirt. While getting dressed earlier in a tiny T-shirt and miniskirt, I knew I'd hoped for something more tonight.

I sighed when his fingers danced lightly across the top of one breast before skittering away.

I whimpered in frustration.

He smirked against my lips and soon, I felt his hand between my thighs to pull down my flimsy black underwear. He spread the warm liquid pooling in my panties, lifting a finger to taste it. I moaned at the sight, raising my hips for stimulation.

"Well now, Isabella," he said softly, speaking for the first time since he brought us here. "You can't expect everything to come so easily."

Easily? We'd been making out for so long that I felt like a wind-up toy with a coil he turned one way but held from turning back in release.

Edward licked my collarbone before nipping it, deliberately distracting me.

Then he lightly touched my clit, sending zinging waves of pain and pleasure throughout me—pleasure at the touch and pain at the softness of it. My heart beat so fast, and I knew I was breathing too harshly. I moaned so vocally when Edward next touched me that he laughed. He raised his head and chuckled before finally pressing harder where I needed him most.

"Edward, please," I panted.

"Please what?" he asked against my blushing ear.

"I need…"

"Yes?"

"I need to let go!"

He bit my ear before saying, "And what does that mean?"

"I just…Edward, please."

"I'm afraid I'm too stupid to understand anything, even what's right in front me, dear. So why don't you spell it out for me?"

"Edward?" I asked hesitantly.

"Tell me!" he burst out.

"I want to come, so get something inside me already!"

"So crude," he said. "But if that's how you want to play it, I'll follow your lead."

His fingers disappeared inside me, first one, then two, then three. They curled within my core before he pushed them in and pulled them out perfectly in sync with his tongue in my mouth. I still couldn't move except to wiggle my hips in response to his fucking perfect touch. My lips molded to his like flesh against marble because even that part of him was unyielding tonight. He controlled it all.

He played me like his willing instrument for a long time, never letting go of my hands or removing his fingers from inside me. I whimpered and keened and cried out, but he didn't speak again.

Suddenly, he removed his fingers completely and pulled away, sitting upright.

He stared above us at the sprinkling of stars in the sky, breathing normally as I panted harshly and rubbed my thighs together, trying to quell the fire he started.

"It's late," he said. And left it at that.

I croaked his name in both question and frustration, but he didn't answer. He simply climbed into the cab of the truck and started the engine.

Sitting up with my lipstick smudged and my tangled hair around me, I couldn't speak. What had just happened? And how could he leave me with this throbbing ache?

I lay back, unsatisfied, and let him drive.

Under the covers in my room, I used a flashlight to read my history textbook, so Edward could sleep. I didn't want to leave the warmth of my covers for the living area because it would get too drafty in there at night.

I'd blown off my considerable homework for the evening to go on a date with Edward Cullen. But now I regretted the decision immensely.

Nothing had come of the night except extreme dissatisfaction. Clearly I was not enough for him, and he didn't want to be enough for me. He had treated me unkindly and never explained his actions.

I would not allow him to play my emotions or my body that way ever again.

In the morning, Alice was waiting hesitantly outside Damen Hall. I knew no matter what I had told her the night of our talk, she was still nervous about her decision regarding Edward.

Alice sat on her black and pink couch, a glass of cold lemonade in her hand. She offered me one as well.

I shook my head and we both spent a moment gathering our courage.

"Are you going to explain to me why you've been treating me like I don't exist?" Alice asked finally, lifting her eyes from the glass.

"Yes, when you explain to me why you treat Edward that same way."

Her eyes widened slightly and her mouth closed.

I waited until it was clear she was not going to speak.

"Alice," I said. "You know I love you—"

"What is this about, Bella?" she said, standing up. "Are you just mad I didn't mention Edward to you for a while, huh? Is that it?"

I stood up too. "No, but that's another example of the way you dismiss him in your life. I'm your best friend, and I didn't even know you have a brother! I met Carlisle once, so why not Edward?"

She looked near tears, and I knew I'd hit a nerve. "That's just it," she said. "You're my best friend. I don't want to lose you."

"Alice?"

"What if you fell in love with him back then like you have now? I always knew you would." She shook her little head. "I couldn't lose you at that time. But I finally realized that you needed to meet him, so I took you to the pool this summer. It wasn't just about getting you to come to this school."

She didn't understand. This wasn't about me. I touched her shoulder, and after a moment of silent cooling down, we sat again.

"Alice, whatever we say tonight, you will always be one of the most important people in my life. Please don't ever be afraid of losing me anymore."

She nodded but didn't seem to believe me.

"Look, I know I shouldn't have avoided you these past couple week," I said. "But I didn't know how to talk to you without bringing up Edward."

Now she looked confused as I continued.

"Your brother, no, your twin, feels like you don't love him. You don't include him in your life, Alice. Surely you know that? Or has it been an unconscious decision?"

I touched her hand and she pulled away, her blue eyes sparkling a little.

"I don't want to talk to him," she said.

I drew in a breath, feeling sure I'd heard wrong. "But you hugged him so warmly at the pool this summer. What happened since then?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I just don't like being around him."

"Why? You have to tell me. What's he done?"

"Nothing," she whispered, looking behind me.

I turned too but there was nothing there. "Alice?"

"It's none of your business, Bella. Leave now please." Her voice was hollow, distant, and I knew I had to open her up to me just like when we first met. Otherwise, she'd push me away for good.

I pounced, hugging her tightly, and not allowing her to squirm away. She shook in my arms, but soon, she relaxed against me and a little after that, a tear ran down her cheek.

She started talking before I said anything more.

"My father used to hit me."

I nodded against her head to signal I was listening. It was no surprise to me that she came from an abusive home.

"I was really bad," she said softly— like it was a confession she didn't want anyone to hear. "I did things he didn't like. I, um, I brought a friend home one time, and I cooked the lasagna wrong and I didn't laugh at his dirty jokes about my mom and I didn't put my toys away—"

"Alice—"

"No, listen. Edward was different and perfect. Perfect grades, perfect behavior, perfect gender. He was like a little golden boy. He didn't do anything wrong."

"Alice, sweetie, it's not Edward's fault that your dad was sick. His actions are his fault. Not Edward's," I said gently.

She lifted her head from my shoulder to look at me. "You think I was jealous," she said, almost in astonishment, but she looked too lifeless to display even that emotion correctly. "Never. No. Edward was perfect to me too. He took me to the park for ice cream and came to all my dance recitals. Edward was my real dad, even though he's my brother. That's why," she said, gulping, "anytime I did something wrong, Edward took my punishment."

I lifted a hand to my mouth; I felt a couple pieces coming together.

"He never deserved any of it," she continued. "One time, my dad fell asleep on the living room couch. He normally couldn't do that without sleeping pills. I stepped into the room to get my bear—Ted still protects me at night— and my dad woke up. Just like that. He looked at me and I knew I was finally going to die."

Her voice sounded as hollow as her eyes looked.

"He smashed a liquor bottle against a table until it was cut in half and the edges were jagged. I couldn't move. I heard Edward scream at me from the doorway, but it was like being underwater." She stepped away from me, rising to stand by an oval window.

Alice turned to me and cocked her head somberly to say in a monotone, "Look, Bella, the sun streaked the sky with red and purple, just like a bruise."

I felt sick to my stomach, and I didn't know if I should stop Alice from speaking more, or if talking was good for her in some way. But unlike my best friend, I couldn't say a word, not to stop or encourage her.

"My dad came at me, and you can guess what basically happened next. Edward pushed him into a table and they started fighting." She closed her eyes. "But Edward was too little. He left that house with multiple fractures throughout his body, two broken ribs, a concussion, and possible brain damage.

And I had to call a taxi to take him to the hospital in the middle of the night instead of right then. I was afraid my dad would hear an ambulance and hide Edward from the paramedics. He did that once before. Luckily, I guilted the taxi driver into letting us leave the car without payment." Her voice cracked. "But I couldn't trick the doctors. So child Services showed up the next day."

I found my voice long enough to say, "What about your mom? Didn't she ever step in?"

She snorted. "Not a chance in hell. She was happy as long as we took the heat off her. She held me up once like an offering, so he wouldn't kick her anymore."

"Alice," I said softly. I had nothing but her name on my tongue.

She sat next to me again and curled up in my lap. "It's okay. I'm okay, Bella. But I know I will never let go of the guilt. I'm just like my mom, you see. Too scared to take what was meant for me and not push it on the people who love me. Everything Edward went through, it was because of me. I can barely look him in the eye. All I see are scars that should be mine."

I began to stroke her hair softly. "Do you love him?"

"More than anything," she said.

"He's dying inside, Allie. He needs you back in his life."

"He's better off without me."

"No, sweetie. He thinks you don't love him anymore. You were so little, Alice, and just because Edward was abnormally strong, does not mean you were abnormally weak. You were a child! Love Edward, don't turn away from him instead. Please?" My voice broke as tears trekked down my face now too.

Alice's body rocked back and forth a little. We didn't talk for a few long moments. The sun set completely behind the mountains, and we were left in the dark.

"I only bring him pain," came her tortured whisper.

I shook my head. "No, your dad was responsible for what you both went through. Alice, all you wanted that night was your bear. That's not a crime," I said as forcefully as I could manage.

"All I wanted was my bear. Yeah. All I wanted was my bear," she said, nodding along with me and repeating the sentence until it grew softer, her eyes drooped, and sleep took her gently under its wings.

In the morning, she was marginally better. We talked a little more about what haunted her. She admitted the nightmares faded from her memory painfully slowly, but she seemed resolute when she said, "I'll try to fix things with him, Bella."

Alice came forward now, clearly worried that Edward might be around and she would have to deal with their issues sooner than she was ready.

I slung an arm casually and comfortingly, across her shoulders. "Hey, Allie. He's still in bed. Let's get us some breakfast. I'm craving a cheese omelet."

She smiled tightly as we fell into step together.

The next day, I rose early for my biweekly run outside of practice. I needed the time to clear my head and run some errands.

EPOV

I watched Jasper head out the door. He dressed in the bathroom like he usually did—something I hadn't considered odd before now.

Making a split-second decision, I rose from bed and donned a light jacket before pulling on my sneakers.

Hidden behind the doorway to Damien Hall, I watched as Jasper stretched for his run. He leaned over, touching his toes with his fingertips, and as weird as it made me feel, I compared him to Bella for a moment. Frustratingly enough, I couldn't find any differences from this distance besides the hair.

Jasper and Bella's close resemblance had annoyed me before, but now it was downright pissing me off.

Stretched out like this—I could see it all. Tight ass, curvy thighs, and delicious hips—this was disturbing on too many levels!

But could I really trust James?

I'd been debating his pivotal words for the past few days, trying to come to terms with my own opinion. And my opinion was in line with the thoughts of the school's slickest journalist. James was a nasty piece of work, but he was the most brilliantly observant fucker in the state, if not the country. The Society of Professional Journalists thought so too. The numerous SPJ plaques in the Journalism Office were a testament to that.

Doing my own stretches now, I continued my watch over Swan until he began jogging in place.

When he finally took off, I followed.

He seemed to be heading for the edges of campus. Thankfully, keeping a large enough distance to remain unspotted and close enough to see Jasper proved to be a simple task. Lost in the music blasting in his ears, Swan didn't seem to notice anything besides the pavement before him.

Pine needles crunched beneath my feet as I took cover behind a large tree trunk. Jasper had stopped running suddenly and was glancing around. I peeked past the great pine to see Jasper's jogging form once more. I followed.

We ran past the campus border and past small stores, coming to a stop at the little business where I once played the piano for free all night long. The nightmares were too persistent that night. My mother's expressionless face had floated around me even when I woke, and the anger was greater than the fear. I had needed an escape and tore open every university building to which I had access, but the expensive music studios were always especially well guarded.

Jasper stepped inside, and I waited a few minutes before making my own entrance. Bob nodded a hello from behind the register. I smiled slightly in response and headed towards Aisle 5. I peered around the pyramid of canned food and saw Jasper grab a pack of—tampons?

He simply walked up to the shelves and picked up the package—no reading labels, no consideration of different brands, and no hesitation before heading off to the cash register.

I slunk forward, thinking I'd caught him in "the act" when he said to Bob, "Alice is menstruating heavily at the moment. She needs backup support."

I threw up a little in my mouth and waited outside until Jasper headed out too.

He broke into a jog once more on the sidewalk, the tampons swinging on his arm within a small paper bag.

A half hour later, we had reached Rocky Falls Park, a large recreational area with acres of grass and mountain trails. Jasper didn't slow down, but rather headed into a heavily wooded and deserted portion of the park. He leaned against a sprawling oak tree and rubbed his neck. Sweat dripped off his nose as he patted it with a napkin from his pocket. Tired myself, I began considering a return to Coldridge when Jasper tugged a lock of his hair.

And all his hair moved.

Then he lifted it off to reveal a skin colored cap. Hoping Jasper was just prematurely bald, I held my breath. My precious moments of ignorance were fading away.

Then that beautiful chestnut hair was cascading down her chest, and she was mopping at the beads of sweat shining just below her real hairline. I turned around to properly bang my head against the tree that was offering me cover.

The girl I loved—no, thought I loved—had been deceiving me from the start of our relationship. Both relationships.

Beneath my closed lids, I could see her as she'd been just two nights ago in my truck: writhing, pleading, beautiful. Now she was ugly. Transformed from a princess to a villain. A creature of the lowliest depths of Earth, and I couldn't bear to look at her any more.

Fuming from shame, anger, and disgust, I ran away from Isabella Swan.

BPOV

"Ode to the chestnut," I said. "Ode to the pine. Ode to the bluefish sucking my spine."

I was bored and speaking to the friendly air around me. Having been too exhausted to head back to Coldridge just yet, I sat in the park and listened to the birds for a half hour. I soon fell asleep for another few hours beneath a tree and finally woke to the sight of a beautiful sunset.

Understandably, I offered an ode to nature.

But remembering Alice, I got up, arranged my hair, and headed to campus for dinner with my friend.

The rooster cock-a-doodled. I turned over in my bed and huffed in response. He wailed at me again and I shot up in bed, a feather stuck to the side of my mouth from my torn pillow.

"Oy!" I cried. Then I realized we didn't have a rooster . . .

WTF?

Looking around for the origin of such godlessness, I spotted Edward's phone on his dresser. He used it as an alarm clock, but what the hell happened to upbeat jazz music? Were cocks in every form just determined to haunt me?

In an interval of silence, I turned off the phone and peered at Edward's sleeping face. Should I wake him up? Clearly, his pseudo alarm clock wasn't working for him.

I stepped towards him just as his hand shot out from atop his duvet. Still asleep on his stomach with his face against the pillow, he grasped my thigh. I tried stepping back, but his fingers tightened and began stroking the skin beneath my shorts. I felt myself tremble slightly. What kind of dream was Edward having?

His hand flattened against my thigh, just beneath the fabric. I heard him moan before his hand began inching higher.

Then I noticed him rubbing himself against the mattress and felt horrified at what he was doing with who he thought was Jasper. I jumped backwards, but as he shot up in bed towards me, Edward's hand remained around my thigh for a moment before letting go.

He stretched out his arms and yawned, his abs peeking slightly from beneath his black wife-beater. He looked at me serenely. Then with a nod and nothing else, he left for the bathroom.

Disturbed, I leaned against the window and slid to the ground. Was this regular behavior between guys? Did they all just feel that comfortable with each other? No. Yes. Maybe?

Was it me? Had I caused this?

Had I broken down all walls of normalcy with the very amorous behavior Emmett had warned me I was unconsciously exhibiting?

I stared beneath Edward's bed, unseeing for a few minutes, until I noticed a piece of paper down there. Curious, I made sure Edward was still gurgling mouthwash in the bathroom before I pulled out what happened to be an open magazine.

And my eyes were immediately assaulted with well-groomed testicles and oiled men hugging in interesting ways.

Edward is gay! Holy shit on a stick.

Was this why he'd pulled away from me in the truck during our date?

My world was crumbling.

"NO!" I cried. "Why, lord? Why? Not him!"

"Jasper? Are you okay?"

I crammed Balltastic Magazine back from whence it came and sat up.

Edward entered the room in his tight briefs, and I knew I should have seen the signs earlier. Like the boner pointed straight at me.

"Jasper?"

I continued staring at his penis as he turned to the side, conveniently showing off the massive tent he'd produced in my presence.

"I'm fine," I whispered. "I'm not dying or anything. I think."

"Okay. And, Jasper?"

"Yeah?"

"Do these briefs make my butt look big?"