A/N: Hey! So I'm finally, officially out of my writing slump. When it is time to post that specific chapter I was stuck on, I'll let you know which one.

Anyway, back to Bella's pov now. I was worried some of you may have thought the past couple chapters didn't have enough drama, but seeing as there haven't been any comments on it, I'll take the silence as good news. Edward's first time at Bella's will be much more... eventful. That's all I'm going to say about that.

See you at the bottom!

I'll Always Find Peace In The Meadow

Chapter Twenty-four: 'What are they planning?' (Bella POV)

Friday 2 June 2017

It's been six days since I went into Edward's house for the first time. Six days since I met Edward's parents for the first time, excluding the disaster of the day the Cullens arrived in town.

It has been exactly six days since I revealed some really personal stuff to Edward. Stuff that I've never talked about. Stuff that I hadn't planned on talking about to anyone.

I went through many emotions last Saturday. From nervous, to excited. Amazed to bored. Embarrassed to upset and vulnerable. I think I experienced most, if not all, emotions physically possible for a human being to experience. It was one hell of a roller coaster ride.

I can't put into words how incredible it was to see that house again. After so long of being denied going to the one place that makes me feel at peace, having a taste of it was indescribable. Sure, it wasn't my meadow, but it was still great to be so close to it. And to finally be able to see inside the house after all these years was... wow!

That's all I could actually say to Edward once I'd been given a tour. My brain was mush, still-shots of all I'd just seen were shuffling in my mind, ceasing any intellectual thoughts I had. The best part was definitely the rooms Edward had delayed me from seeing until after he'd tutored me for a few hours. After our heart-to-heart following his mother's unexpected visit, the fact that there was still more of the house to see had completely slipped my mind. So, when Edward announced we had done enough work for that day and it was time to see what he'd been hiding, my excitement from earlier returned in tenfold.

Down the hall, past the spare bedroom that's beside Edward's and past the staircase, was the great room. This room deserved it's name. It's indeed a 'great' room. It's massive, with a bar on the left as you enter from the hall that holds Edward's room, and on the right is the main area of the room. There are large sofas situated in front of a glorious fireplace, and in the hexagonal aclove in the center of the rear wall is a grand piano.

It's Edward's grand piano, as he told me, seeing as he's "the only one that actually plays it anymore". I was shocked into silence as soon as I layed eyes on it. I was glad Edward had made me wait because, intentionally or not, the late afternoon sun shone through the aclove windows at the perfect angle so that it lit up the instrument, dazzling me all the more. I remember wandering over to it in a daze. My trembling hands hovered over the lid that hid the ivory and ebony keys from view, too afraid to touch it. I simply stared in never-ending silence as Edward, who was wearing a smirk, gracefully sat down on the bench, lifted up the lid and began to skillfully play a quick random melody. He went on to play a classical piece I recognised but couldn't name, all while I stood by and watched in amazement.

My state of silent shock was broken finally, but it was only once Edward began playing the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse theme tune, a song he didn't even recognise when I'd played it at school weeks ago. He played it flawlessly, I realised through my laughter. I was laughing so hard that I doubled over, losing my balance, therefore having to steady myself by placing my hand on the piano. That instantly sobered me up, but Edward didn't seem to mind me touching it, so then and only then did I dare to sit down beside him on the piano bench. I applauded his performance once he finished playing the theme tune. He convinced me to play it with him, so I did, harmonising with him at a different key. After that, with a wink, he declared that he'd been practising that song just for me, like that wasn't so clearly obvious already.

We played around on the piano for a bit. Carlisle, Edward's father, came down to the lower floor for ten minutes during this time. He claimed to be curious when he heard the dual playing from upstairs. Surprisingly, especially so after witnessing his wife's obvious respite to my being there, he said all of this with genuine curiosity. Adding to my surprise, I found that his presence in the room for the short ten minutes he spent sat on the sofa, watching us while we played, didn't bring an uncomfortable tension to the room as his wife's did when she entered Edward's bedroom an hour or so prior.

Not too long after Carlisle's departure from the room, Edward left for a few seconds, returning with a heap of paper. He dumped them all down on top of the piano and began sifting through them, searching for something. I'd sat on the bench, idly playing with the keys as I watched him. When he sat back down beside me, placing the sheet against the stand, and I saw it was a scruffy sequence of chords and notes, I was shocked. He'd drawn his own staves onto plain paper and written his own piano pieces. I was elated - it's something else we share in common: writing songs. He started playing his own composition, and I was astounded. It was up to professional standard. No joke. I dragged the other sheets of loose paper toward me and while I listened to him play, I had a look through them. Some were completed, a few even had names, but most of the pieces of paper were just a collection of random, unfinished chord sequences. No matter the stage they were at, all of them were good, all had potential.

I felt gratitude to Edward in that moment, that he'd want to share something so personal with me. It made me feel guilty for not showing him my journal, but for some reason, something was holding me back. For some reason, in that moment, I didn't want him to know that I write songs, too... in a much more organised fashion.

It wasn't too long after that that Edward declared there was more he wanted me to see.

I was reluctant to leave the piano - Edward had to physically lift me from the bench - but once we entered the neighbouring room, all sadness of leaving the beautiful instrument vanished. The media room he lead me to was almost as spectacular as the piano. Almost. I knew that, despite what we'd discussed in his bedroom after his mom came and spoiled our fun, there would be many return visits back to this house for me, and they wouldn't all be for Edward to tutor me. Unfortunately we didn't have enough time to watch anything on the mega-size screen, with me having a strict curfew and all, but I made Edward promise that we'd watch something on there. And soon.

In the six days since that eventful day, life has been rather uneventful.

Before I left for Edward's house that eventful day, when my mother sat down at the table for breakfast, she felt that the table was "wrong". As soon as she sat down, her freshly cooked breakfast and cup of coffee sat in front of her, she began making a fuss. She huffed and wriggled around in her chair. Then she looked under the table, tapping the table leg closest to her. I'd just sat down opposite her to eat my own breakfast when she sent me her "you've-done-something-wrong" glare. She claimed that I'd moved the table while cleaning. According to her, the table wasn't in the correct position. It was too close to her chest, it was "suffocating". She then proceeded, with all the strength she could find, to push the table away from herself... right into my ribs. It winded me, the brunt of the collision so strong that all the air was forced from my lungs, and I fell from my chair as I doubled over. The pain felt fresh all day; I almost ran from Edward's house when he noticed one of my many winces.

That was the last physical abuse my mother gave me. I've not gained anymore bumps, bruises or scratches since then. Though to say my home life has been uneventful since then would be a lie

When I got home from Edward's, my mother was no where to be seen. After using the opportunity of being home alone to quickly log the bruising on my ribs from the table incident that morning, I began making our dinner and finished my chores. I left my mother's plate in the microwave and ate alone that night. She stumbled into the house at 11pm. I'd stayed up and waited for her to get home. That night, I helped my drunk mother into bed. For the first time.

Every night since then my mother has drunk herself into a stupor, barely coherent enough to sit at the table to eat dinner. How she's managed to get up early and go to work every morning I'll never know. She'd mostly be late home from work, eventually arriving home tipsy. I'm assuming she keeps visiting a bar after work. Then she'd pop open a bottle of wine and finish the entire bottle, a couple of times its been two, all by herself. Two nights ago I just left her on the sofa after I tried and tried to wake her up with no such luck. Thankfully she didn't take an insult to that decision.

School is what's been uneventful mostly. Rosalie's click have made no harsh appearances in my week. They've left Edward and I alone to enjoy our lunches. Even the devil-duo payed me no attention during lessons. It was a pleasant change to my usual harassment from them. Though this change does make me nervous. The last time there was a break such as this, they'd been orchestrating the 'Forks'es Fruitloop' poster spectacle. What are they planning this time?

It's been six days since mine and Edward's last tutor session, and today we're having another one. This time, however, it's being held at my house. When I approached my mother with the request for this to happen, I was far from calm, but I wanted to at least try. For Edward. To my utter surprise, my mother had no complaints, she didn't argue agaisnt me. She immediately said yes. Also, in an entirely uncharacteristic turn of events, my mother even told me to ignore my chores for today. She wants me to focus on helping her make a good first impression on her boss's son. That meant that I had to work extra hard after my shift at the bookstore yesterday to make the house spotless, but I was honestly too thrilled about today to really care. I did it all with a figurative smile on my face - I never ever clean with an actual smile on my face.

Last night, over a relatively peaceful dinner (the first one she was almost completely sober for, for the first time in six days), Renee asked how long Edward would be here for. I told her what he'd told me, that he could stay as late as 9:00pm, if she'd be okay with it. That's his curfew on school nights. I'm hoping that having my mother know about Edward's lenient curfew means that she'll perhaps ease up on mine. It's wishful thinking, but I'm still hoping. My mother was all too happy to hear that, and even offered to make dinner, but I rushed to tell her that we'd just order something to eat. I don't want my mother's outrageous cooking to poison my only friend.

So, today, Edward will be coming back to my house straight after school. I've already called Angela to ask for today off, something she was happy to do. She says I don't "pull a sicky" nearly as much as I should do, as much as other teens my age would do if they worked for her.

"Woah!" Edward's eyes are wide as I approach him near the bike racks after school. "What the hell has happened to you?"

"Don't even start," I warn him. "I've just had gym."

"Yeah, no shit. What did your class do? Compete in a marathon?" I just glare at him. His eyes don't leave my bright red face as I unlock my bike. I grab the handlebars before we start walking side by side toward the parking lot exit. I side glance to him thirty seconds into our walk to my house. I can still feel his eyes on my face.

"Dude, stop staring!"

"Sorry," he chuckles, looking ahead. His eyes stray to my face no more than ten seconds later. I stop walking without warning, causing him to back track a few paces to stand beside me. "Why'd you stop?"

"'Cause you keep staring!" I exclaim, exasperated. He chuckles again.

"Sorry. I'm trying, but it's hard not to. You are really red." I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I know. It happens after all gym classes that involve running." I begin walking again.

"So, after every gym class then," Edward deadpans. I stop walking again, cocking my head as I raise my brow at him. He's smirking. "Okay, okay. I'll stop... Demi Tomato," his last moment jibe is hissed out between a loud laugh. I huff and stomp ahead, trailing my bike beside me.

"Okay, Bella. This time I mean it. I'm sorry. Really, I am." I slow my walk as he jogs to catch me up. We're both silent for the following minute. "That was a good one though, wasn't it?" he asks. The easily detectable presence of a smile in his voice has me fighting to keep mine off of my face. Demi Tomato... the fact that he incorporated one of my favourite female solo artists, Demi Lovato, into his joke makes the fight harder. "Don't you think?" he prompts, nudging my shoulder with his.

"Yes, it was pretty good," I give in, my smile breaking free. He laughs freely, swinging his arm around my shoulders for a moment so he can give me a brief one-armed hug. The fact that we're both trying to walk beside each other makes it kind of awkward.

Though nothing will beat the awkwardness of the moment Rosalie's red convertible, which is filled with only the girls from their group, passes us. HONK. HONK. Everyone walking home around us turns their attention to the passing car... which slows so Rosalie, Lauren, Jessica, and Alice can shout-sing "BELLA AND EDWARD SITTING IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-G...".

The rest of their rhyme fades along with the sight of them. A chorus of laughter mixed with "ooooh's" sounds around us. I drop my head down, watching the wheel of my bike turn as I push it. Neither Edward or I says a thing. Not until the area around us is almost void of anyone from school, void of any witnesses to that debacle. The only other people around are two freshmans who are minding their own business, strolling along on the other side of the road.

"So," I say, trying to erase the awkward silence, "what's on the agenda for today then?"

"You seem to have gotten the hang of quadratic equations after last week." He's right; I have. I honestly don't know how he did it, but I finally understand them. "So," he continues, "I was thinking we'd move onto something else. Perhaps linear equations?"

I side-eye him.

"Those aren't the graphs, are they?" When Edward responds with a smile and a nod, my shoulders sag and I groan. "Really? Do we have to?"

"Well, if you really don't want to, I guess we could begin with polynomials?" he offers with a sly smirk.

"No! I don't want to even know what they are. No, no, no. I'm fine with doing the lunar equations," I rush to say, shaking my head vigorously.

"Linear, Bella. Not lunar."

"Do you enjoy correcting me all the time?"

"I'd be lying if I said no."

I shove him into the hedge to his left. When he pulls himself free, he is both shocked and amused. Our laughter is hard to stop most of the way back to my house after that.

Edward waits on the lawn while I lock my bike to the mailbox. I'm silent as I lead him up the porch steps. I try to ignore the shaking of my hands as I slide my key into the door lock. I'm grateful for the fact that Edward pretends to not notice, too.

Once the door is unlocked, a task which took too much time, I step inside. I keep my back to Edward, blocking the doorway while I take a deep breath to calm myself. Why am I so nervous?

A/N: Well, how do you think this will go? Let me know ;)

See you Monday! Have a good weekend!