Vancouver Waves

by OtherRootVegetable19

At school, Edward Cullen and Bella Swan exist in entirely different social circles. One chance encounter allows them to see themselves in a new light, however, they agree to keep their budding friendship under wraps. With each harboring their own secrets, the question remains: which one will fall first? AU/AH

3. Tell Me If You Wanna Go Home

Chapter Three: Tell Me If You Wanna Go Home

BPOV

Reasoning makes me text Edward Cullen first. It's nothing big or fancy or even important. I just want to show him that it's okay, because I get the feeling that he would agonize over what to text first, if ever he wanted to. So, I'm essentially opening the door for him, as it were. Or a window.

Just, something.

He responds to my meme during lunch on Monday.

Edythe: I know what you're trying to do.

I can't help my smile. It's odd, really. Until this past week, I probably wouldn't have even thought of Edward Cullen, and now I'm talking to him. Angela would definitely have a coronary if she knew.

I can't stop myself from looking up towards where he's sitting at a table several feet away from ours. As expected, he's busy typing something on his phone and, a moment later, my own buzzes again.

Edythe: And thank you, btw. Don't think I'm not grateful. I actually had a whole message planned out about why the sky is blue. It's always bothered me. Why blue, you know? Why not purple? It's a serious issue.

I shake my head at his antics

Edythe: Don't shake your head. You can't tell me you haven't thought about it.

I freeze.

He was looking at me.

I swallow, as I begin my reply.

Beaufort: I don't know what you're talking about.

Beaufort: Also, physics would have me remind you that, courtesy of the sun, blue light is scattered more than other colors in the sky because it travels as shorter and smaller waves, which is why it's the dominant color we see. Sunsets are another story though.

Beaufort: Don't judge my nerdiness.

I set my phone down and wait. I feel odd. It's almost as if my body knows I'm doing something wrong, but my mind is vehemently denying it.

A moment later, my phone buzzes again, drawing Angela's attention.

"Jake?" she asks.

I shrug. "Could be," I say, because it really could.

But then again, he'd have to be talking to me for it to be him. Let's just say he wasn't too happy about the fact that I didn't end up going to watch him surf. I mean, he's my boyfriend, and I'm totally in this, but where's the fun in watching someone surf?

He wears a wet-suit, so it isn't as if his abs are even on show.

Plus, I had a lot of work to do.

I pick up my phone when it buzzes a second time.

Edythe: Deny all you want. I'm on to you.

Edythe: No judgments at all. We embrace nerdiness here on the dark side. Join us.

Angela taps my forearm to get my attention. "We're going for coffee at Army of a Nation. You in?"

"When?"

"Straight after school."

I look around the table. Jasper's focus is on his lunch, and Alice is looking at me curiously, as if she can sense something. She's always been a little too observant; too seeing. I'll have to be careful around her. But, I mean, I'm not actually doing anything wrong, am I?

I do a quick mental check of my schedule, before I nod, a smile breaking out on my face. "You aren't going to force me to drink coffee, are you?"

Angela laughs. "To this day, it still baffles me how you can survive life without drinking it."

I shake my head. "It still baffles me that you can actually drink that stuff. It's disgusting."

"Some of us can't be energy bunnies like Alice here," Angela says, and we both look at our pixie friend.

"Oh no," Alice says, waving her hands. "Don't drag me into another one of your coffee debates. I'm having hot chocolate."

Angela looks affronted, and I'm just amused.

"With marshmallows, I hope," I say.

"Is there any other way?"

I consider, idly, if I should mention what happened with Jake to my friends. Angela likes him well enough, but Alice hasn't been quiet about how she feels about him. In her eyes, I may as well be dating Emmett McCarty.

And Jasper, well, I'm not sure. I suspect he sides with Alice, but he's never forgotten that he was my friend first. We've also never told Alice about that one time we kissed before they started dating. Really, I want to forget it ever happened, because it felt like incest.

When Angela reaches for my tray, I remember the phone in my hand, and shoot off a quick text to Edward Cullen.

Beaufort: Do you have cookies there on the dark side?

I grab my bag, before I stand and lift Angela's bag. I can feel eyes on me as I make my way towards the dining hall doors to meet up with Angela.

I don't have to look back to know it's Edward Cullen.

---

Being friends with Edward is surprisingly easy. I use that term loosely because it isn't as if anything's actually changed. On the outside, that is.

Inside, well, that's an entirely different story.

I can't really explain it. I mean, I'm sure there are parts of Edward that he guards so carefully, keeping them close to his chest, but it's almost surprising just how open he actually is. I'm essentially a stranger, which might actually be the deciding factor.

It just makes me wonder who he actually has to talk to.

We see out the rest of the semester this way. There are secret smiles during Biology, and sometimes we see each other in the library, but our conversations strictly remain in our phones, and I reason it's for the best.

If Angela ever caught wind of the fact that I have a daily chat with the object of her affection; I'd never hear the end of it. Neither would he, for that matter. And, if I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know how I would explain myself. I mean, if Jake ever found out; he'd blow a fuse, and nobody needs to see that.

Nobody.

It isn't until school finally lets out for the summer that Edward and I find ourselves in the same place again, outside of school. Mike Newton throws an end-of-year party every year, and this is just the second one I'm attending. There's no use trying to get out of it, because why would I? Everyone goes.

Everyone.

It doesn't matter who you are or who you're friends with. You go.

We get ready at Alice's house, because her mom's the coolest of all our moms. Angela's mom would balk at the makeup, and mine would probably try too hard to help us get ready. She's been living vicariously through her kids for a while now.

Exams are over, and everyone wants to get loose. There's going to be drinking, I'm sure, but Angela and I are resolutely not going to participate. Alice doesn't have the same qualms as we do. Jasper's going to be there.

Angela's parents would kill her, and I don't even want to think about what mine would do.

Well, I doubt my dad would notice.

Okay, that's just cynical.

I sigh.

My mom would probably congratulate me for acting my age, particularly after everything that's happened. Sometimes, she's a difficult woman to please. Since arriving in Seattle, I've been very careful with my life and my love, and I don't need alcohol trying to inhibit that.

"Bella, your phone," Alice says, lifting it off her dresser and tossing it at me. "Who's Edythe?"

I don't answer her, as I look at the screen. Of course, it's a message from Edward, right above a message from Jake. It's a testament to how this week's gone that I open Edward's first.

Edythe: She's making me wear green tonight. Something about my eyes. I stopped listening. Also, please tell me I actually get to SEE you tonight.

I can't help my smile. He's been going on and on about how Rosalie Hale started on him about his wardrobe choices. He does like his dark, dull colors, and I don't really blame her. He'd look good in green.

I'm smiling as I respond.

Beaufort: I have no sympathy for you. And, yes, you will get to SEE me tonight. Prepare yourself.

Almost reluctantly, I read Jake's text. He's going to be late tonight. I'm surprised he's coming at all, really. It is a Waite Academy party, but St Matthew's boys are probably, definitely, going to crash. They're all about the drama. And the booze.

I'd been excited to see him all weak, until, well -

"Ahh," Angela shrieks. "My ear! Oh my God, my ear! How bad is it?"

"Don't use God's name in vain," Alice and I say together, automatically. It's a habit when it comes to Angela. We tease her about it mercilessly.

Alice moves to survey the damage our friend's done with the flat iron, and I contemplate not responding to Jake. It'd be childish not to, right? And I'm anything if not childish. I send a quick reply, and then help Angela finish off her hair without further incident.

Once we're ready, Alice's mom, Janice, tells us we look hot and, really, I reckon we do. My skirt is short, shorter than I usually wear, but I find I'm all for it. I just survived my sophomore year in this new place without completely losing it. There were times when I wanted to; when the past threatened to overwhelm me, but I persevered, and here we are.

Angela drives us in her old, red, beat-up Buggie, with Alice riding shotgun. I don't really mind. I like the back. More space, good view.

Mike's street is already packed when we arrive, and we have to park around the block.

"I thought we were early," Alice says, taking out her phone and texting Jasper. "I guess people are keen to get drunk as early as possible."

Angela laughs. "Was the year that bad?"

"I'm just glad that Clapp's contract has finally run out," I say.

Alice rolls her eyes. "Don't lie, Bella; you're going to miss the old fart-bag."

I shrug. "We'll see."

"There's Jazz," Angela says, pointing.

Alice and I follow her gaze, to see Jasper walking with another boy we all know is Jared Wang. Angela squeals because she knows he's friends with Edward, but I know that Jasper and Jared know each other from baseball.

I wonder if Jared's as lost as Edward is when it comes to being friends with Emmett McCarty. Does Jasper help him?

"Let's go," Alice says, and we climb out.

The greetings are quick, before we head towards the house. My phone buzzes in my hand, and it's a text from Jake. Apparently, he's leaving home only now. I suspect he's going to pick up some of his friends, so I doubt I'll see him before ten at the earliest.

As we walk, Jasper moves to my side and drops his head to whisper to me: "Do you know if Ben's coming?"

"I don't know," I tell him. "I texted him earlier, but I haven't got a reply. Why?"

"I think I have an idea how to help," he says.

"Oh boy," I say automatically, glancing worriedly at Angela. "Please don't do anything stupid, Jasper Whitlock. Ange's parents think she's at a sleepover at my house right now."

He grins, and I worry for what's about to happen. "Don't worry, my dear Bella."

Like that's going to happen.

The party is loud. Like, loud. Mike managed to get a new sound system connected just for tonight, and I can't say that my eardrums appreciate him for it.

I get through the beginning of the party quite well. Alice leads Jasper off to dance, and I think Jared goes to find his own friends, leaving Angela and me to scale the terrain, as it were.

Of course, Angela spots Edward before I do. She has some kind of Edward-radar, I swear. He isn't wearing anything out of the ordinary, but there's just something about our being out of school that makes this whole thing different.

He spots me a beat later, but his eyes don't linger. Angela would surely notice if he openly looked at me. I realize for the first time that I've failed to warn him that my best friend would willingly give a limb to have his babies. Maybe he can tell, because he doesn't look my way again.

I was right, of course. He does look good in green, which Angela repeatedly tells me. His eyes that and his eyes this. To save myself (or her), I steer her towards the kitchen to get Coke refills before we head out back. We just keep walking, and we keep talking.

Things change when Jake arrives. He's with Sam, Embry and Paul, and it's clear as day that they've already had their pre-drinks somewhere else. I'm less irritated than I should be, but that quickly flares when he sticks his tongue down my throat, and I taste the alcohol.

I push him away, but he just smiles.

"Hi, babe."

I can feel eyes on me. Including Edward's. These days, I've been able to tell his gaze apart from others, which is weird, right?

"Hello," I say, pulling him into a hug, and whisper in his ear: "Are you drunk?"

He pulls back, his bottom lip jutting out. "Maybe."

It's Saturday, so it shouldn't be a big deal, but it is, and I don't know why. It triggers the thought that he came here tonight for the booze, and not for me. Also, I suppose I'm still irritated with him for calling me a child. Excuse me for being the type of girl who's unafraid to ask for what she wants.

And what I want right now is my boyfriend to look at me instead of over my shoulder at the keg.

Really, I should have taken it as a sign of things to come.

We start to fight about fifteen minutes later. It's nothing at first, but I'm still irritated and he just can't be bothered to figure out why. It doesn't help that I don't tell him. The night doesn't get any better from then on. I can't even say what we fight about, but we do.

I don't expect my tears, and we both don't handle it well. I'm more than just a child now, and the fact that I close myself in a closet doesn't really help with changing opinions. I sink down to the ground and clutch my knees to my chest.

So much for date night.

I feel the door open as a cool gust of air enters and, just as I'm about to tell Jake I don't want to do this anymore; a different voice speaks.

"Here."

My eyes fly open, and I look up to spy Edward kneeling in front of me, looking at me with kind, curious eyes, and a handkerchief held out for me to take. I don't want him to see me like this. I must look hideous.

"Take it," he says, and it reminds me of the Gatorade incident that I like to think started this entire thing. He glances over his shoulder, which I've realized is a nervous tick of his, before he leans towards me and places the handkerchief in my hand, his own fingers cool against mine.

His touch isn't like anything I imagined. Not that I imagined it or anything like that.

"Swan," he whispers. "Please wipe your tears away before I do it for you."

I do as instructed, though I'm tempted not to.

He watches me intensely, and I feel heat rise up my neck. "What happened?" he asks, and I suddenly want to tell him everything. "Swan," he prompts.

"It was just a fight," I say.

"But you're crying."

I wipe at my eyes one last time, and plaster on a smile. "See? Not anymore," I say, handing him back his handkerchief. "Not that I'm not grateful, Edward; but who carries around a handkerchief these days?"

"Oh, it's not mine; I found it on the floor out there."

My eyes widen, but I catch sight of the slight wrinkles next to his perfect eyes. "Oh, you, very funny."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

I don't want to lie to him, so I don't answer the question.

He sighs, before he moves to sit down beside me, half hidden by the long coats. We've never sat this close, and I can practically feel the heat of him.

"Do you want me to beat him up?" he asks, and I let out an unexpected laugh, which makes him frown. "What?"

"And risk your injuring your dainty little hands, I wouldn't dream of it."

He looks suitably affronted. "I'm tougher than I look."

"I don't doubt it."

He gives me a look that quickly softens into something else; something I don't recognize. Which isn't strange, given that I don't see enough of him to know all the looks on his face. It's just, well, he really is very handsome.

"Edward?"

"Hmm?"

"Why are you in here?"

"Where else would I be?"

I blink. "I'm sure there are a bunch of girls out there who are just dying to make your acquaintance."

He shrugs. "They can wait."

I don't know why I feel so uncomfortable about the idea of him and other girls. He didn't even try to deny it.

"So," he says.

"So?"

"Now that it's summer, we can - "

"We can what?"

He flushes slightly, and I'm surprised I can see it in the dim light. "I was thinking that, maybe, you know, we could, uh, hang out," he says, stumbling over his words. "I mean, like, just normal stuff. Not like - " he pauses. "Never mind, it's stupid."

I look at him, taking in the slight blush on his cheeks and the way he won't meet my gaze. "Like friends?" I ask, and his eyes meet mine. "Like normal friends?"

He waits a beat before his face splits into a wide grin. "Exactly."

I don't think he's spent enough time thinking about what he's asking. He's Edward Cullen. It'd be a big deal if anyone saw us just hanging out.

He continues anyway. "We could, umm - " he halts. "Okay, so, I may or may not have a personal chef," he says, that blush only getting brighter. "And we have a movie theatre in our house. So, I mean, we could literally go for a movie, and have a meal, without actually going anywhere."

Okay, so maybe he has given this some thought.

"Edward," I start.

"As friends, Swan," he clarifies, because somebody has to. I have a boyfriend, who I might hate a little bit right now, but I still have a boyfriend.

"Okay," I find myself saying anyway.

His eyebrows practically rise to his hairline. "Okay?"

I nod. "Okay."

"Awesome."

For a moment, I want to hug him. Just, I don't know, to hold him, because he's so pure and so precious at this moment, and somebody has to protect him.

I've just now decided that that person is going to be me.

I don't know for how long we sit there, talking about nothing in particular when my phone starts to ring. I spy the Caller ID, which isn't even necessary, because Angela's face is blown up on my screen. It's a candid shot of her pulling the worst face imaginable. She'll probably kill me if she found out Edward saw it.

I hear him chuckle at the sight, as I answer.

"Where are you?" she asks, once I've mumbled a 'hi.'

Hiding, I want to say, but I don't. "Where are you?" I counter.

"I was just talking to Alec," she says, sounding rather smug, if not a little weary. She's smug because Alec Marcus is one of Edward's friends. I say that because Edward's made it very clear to me that he doesn't like him at all. He reasons that Alec is part of the reason why Emmett acts the way he does.

"He's very nice, you know?" Angela continues. "Cute smile, such a gentleman. He got me a drink and some buffalo wings and a - " she stops to hiccup.

My eyes widen.

"It was weird," she says. "Everything tasted weird. I didn't know buffalo wings could taste so sweet. Or bitter. I don't know." She giggles.

"Angela," I say. "Where are you?"

"In the lounge." She hiccups again. Then: "I think."

"Angela," I repeat, tensing. "Stay where you are. I'm coming to get you." I move the phone away from my ear and peer into Edward's worried eyes. Alec is sort of his friend. I'm sure I'm jumping to conclusions. I'm sure this is nothing.

But.

"What's wrong?" Edward asks.

I'm frozen. I don't know what to do.

Edward places his hands on my shoulders and turns me to face him. "Swan, what's wrong?"

I want so badly to ask him to help me right now, but I don't know how. What can he do? What can I do?

"Bella?"

The sound of my actual name from his lips jolts me into the present moment. "I need you to get Alec," I say.

He frowns. "What?"

"My best friend doesn't drink," I tell him. "But she's a little drunk right now, and she's been talking to Alec, and I just - " I halt when his features harden. For a moment, I think he's going to turn on the defensive, but he doesn't. The boy is just full of surprises, isn't he?

"That bastard," he hisses instead, practically jumping to his feet.

"Edward?"

He puts his hand out, and I take it without hesitation. He pulls me up, and we're standing so close together, I can smell him: laundry detergent, a bit of smoke and boy. It's important to note that he doesn't smell like chlorine at all.

"Go and get your friend. Whatever happens; stay focused on her," he instructs me before he leaves the closet.

Despite myself, I wait a beat. I need to calm myself before I step out there. Who knows what I'm going to find?

What happens next is something like a blur. If it wasn't my life, I would think it wasn't actually happening. I find Angela in the living room, sitting on the couch, much too close to the boy that is Alec Marcus.

Before I can even say anything, Edward appears. He says words to Alec, which don't go down well. A moment later, Edward's dragging the other boy away.

As instructed, I move straight towards Angela and survey the damage.

She's drunk. Definitely drunk.

I whip out my phone and dial Alice. I don't get an answer, which isn't surprising. She's not coming home with Angela and me anyway. I panic.

"Angela," I say, forcing her to look at me.

She smiles when her eyes settle on me, and then they drift away again.

"Shit," I murmur.

"Is she okay?"

I turn sharply towards the sound of Edward's voice. I panic for a moment, as I think about everything all at once. I have to get Angela out of here, but I have no idea how to do that. Alice is who-knows-where. Jake is probably plastered drunk somewhere, and I'm not old enough to drive.

"Can you drive?" I ask suddenly.

His eyes widen. "Umm. Technically, yes, but I'm - I don't have a license yet."

I frown.

"Not old enough."

It's the first time I realize that I don't even know when his birthday is. Friends, huh?

"But," he adds; "I have a car."

I frown a bit harder.

"With a driver."

Oh.

"Angela has a car," I say, and Angela perks up at the sound of her name. Her eyes just now settle on Edward, and oh no.

She squeals, and people turn to look at us. "You're Edward Cullen," she says loudly, and Edward turns pink right before my eyes.

He looks at me. "Take the car. Take her home."

"What about you?" I ask.

"He'll come back for me."

"But her car," I start to say.

"Just take her home. We can worry about it later."

His use of pronoun gets to me, and I start to nod. I like the idea of having him in this with me.

"Are you okay to get her outside?" he asks; "I need to call Felix and tell him what's up."

"I think I'll manage."

He nods once before he disappears from the room. I look down at Angela, whose eyes are wide in disbelief.

"Yes," I say coyly; "that was Edward Cullen."

"Wow," she says breathlessly.

I manage to coax her to her feet, and she leans heavily on me as we shuffle out of the house. I'm not bothered to tell Jake that I'm leaving, but I make a note to shoot Alice a text once we're in the car.

The car.

It's a black Mercedes Benz with tinted windows, and I feel so uncomfortable climbing inside.

But Angela.

"Evening, Miss Swan, Miss Weber," the driver, Felix, says once Angela and I are safely in the backseat.

"Umm, hi." My eyes flick out the window, but I don't see the green-grey eyes I need to.

"Will you be returning to your home, or to a different address?" Felix asks me.

"Uh, to my home, please," I say.

"Of course," he says, shifting the car into gear. "Do let me know if you require us to make an additional stop. Mr. Edward told me to ensure that you had Aspirin."

I glance at Angela, who's plastered her face against the cool window. "I believe we have some at home."

"Of course."

And that's that. Really, it's one of the strangest conversations I've ever had, and I've had some strange ones.

Angela talks to herself as the city buildings - I mean, suburbs - of Seattle fly by, and I try to still my trembling hands. I focus on texting Alice, and Jasper for good measure. Whatever he had planned must have failed, or it hadn't started. Where the hell did Alec even come from?

It's silent from Edward, which is weird, but I suspect he's returned to the party now that the basket-case and her drunk best friend have left.

When we get to my house, I hesitate. I discussed tonight's party with my parents, and I was given an extended curfew until one o'clock. Right now, it's barely midnight. How am I supposed to explain Angela?

Felix waits patiently.

"Miss Swan?"

I look up.

"Might I say that the truth always seems to work out well for me."

I nod thoughtfully. "Thank you," I say.

"You are very welcome," he says, before he climbs out and comes to open the door for me. I coax Angela out again, and she's talking about lions and fancy chandeliers and oh wow.

My parents are in the TV lounge, and my mom appears in the foyer when she hears the door open. Her eyes widen at the sight of us, and I shake my head.

"It's a long story," I say.

She's quick to usher us upstairs before my dad shows his face. It's a good thing she does, too, because -

We're lucky.

We're safely in my room when Angela pukes for the first time. She makes it to my bathroom, and I hold her hair up. It's a cliché, really, and I hate it. I hate that any of this is even happening right now. I help her clean up before we go back into my room, where my mom is ready with two glasses of water and a lot of Aspirin.

Our bags are in Angela's car, so she puts on some of my pajamas, before my mom and I get her settled into my bed and slowly lull her to sleep. Apparently, the thing to do now is let her sleep it off.

I almost start crying when I tell my mom what happened.

"Edward?" she queries. "As in, Edward Cullen?"

I nod because, of course, that's the part of the story that she pays attention to.

She blinks, shakes her head, and then sighs. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart." I can feel the weariness in her words. I think she wants to say more, possibly go on a tirade about being careful and vigilant, and probably demand the expulsion of one Alec Marcus, but we all know the reality.

We've been here before.

Sometimes it doesn't matter.

Angela should have been more aware, and Alec should have been a decent human being.

"Try to get some sleep," she says, sounding more defeated than I feel. I suspect it has something to do with my dad, but I'm not in the mood to deal with their problems on top of my own tonight.

"Goodnight, Mom," I say.

She drops a kiss on the top of my head, and then leaves.

I watch her go, before I turn my attention to Angela, who's still in and out. She looks at me. Well, at a spot on my shoulder, I think.

"Bella," she says; "were you talking to Edward Cullen?"

I laugh, because what else can I do? Even in almost-slumber, she still refers to him by his name and surname. "Try to get some sleep, Ange," I say, echoing my mom.

She rolls over. "Because it'd be cool if you were."

Hmm.

I blink back tears as I watch her. I should have been with her. I should have been looking out for her like I promised I would when her mother drew me aside earlier. I suspect she knew we were going out, and now look what's happened.

My phone buzzes on my dressing table. I glance at the time. It's quite late.

With a heavy sigh, I stand up and cross the room to retrieve it. I'm surprised but altogether not when it's a text from Edward.

Edythe: Hi. Just checking in. How's Angela doing?

Another buzz.

Edythe: I'm sorry tonight was such a disaster.

My heart stills for a moment. I wonder if he's actually this pure at heart, or if he's just desperate for a friend. I haven't been able to tell, and I'm not sure if I actually want to know.

I take a breath before I type my reply.

Beaufort: Hi back. She's out like a light, but otherwise doing good. Thanks for checking in.

Beaufort: It's not your fault.

I wait for a reply that doesn't come. Instead, my phone starts to ring, and I just stare at the screen, frozen. This is the first time he's called. It's the first time we'll speak over the phone, and I feel as if it's a boundary we're crossing. I don't know if I'm ready.

I tap the green button anyway.

"Hello?"

"Hi." His voice is velvet, but I can hear the concern and weariness in it.

"Hi back," I say.

"I hope this is okay," he whispers. "I just - I wanted to make sure you were okay."

I smile despite myself. He really is precious. "I'm okay," I assure him, but it comes out sounding flat.

"Sure you are."

I want to be indignant. I also want to get mad. It's something that Jake would say, but it sounds different coming from Edward. He's not trying to insult me; he's just trying to help.

"Are you planning on getting any sleep?" he asks.

"Probably not," I confess. "I don't think I can, even if I try. I'm just - " I stop and suck in a deep breath. "I feel responsible."

He doesn't try to tell me I'm not, which is something I appreciate.

"I'm her best friend," I continue. "I should have been with her, but I was in a closet, crying, because my boyfriend was a jackass and I'm too much of a weakling to - " I stop again, my breath catching. I hate this.

"Bella." His voice is so soothing; I even press the phone closer to my ear. I wonder if he's abandoned calling me by my surname. "Can I say something?"

"I'm listening."

"I think you are wonderful," he says quietly. "And not just because of tonight, but because of the way you care. So deeply, so passionately. I mean, I know we don't know each other that well, but the fact that you're so crushed about this says a lot about you." He takes a breath. "So, yes, something terrible could have happened tonight, but it didn't. It didn't. Which means it was never meant to happen. We learned something from tonight; something important. So now we carry it with us, and we try not to get into situations like these again. Okay?"

I secretly love his use of pronouns, though I don't say so. "Thank you, Edward."

"For what?"

I let out a breath. "For letting me use your handkerchief."

"It's not mine, remember?"

I laugh lightly, and I'm relieved to find I can still laugh. Even tonight. "I think she heard us, you know?"

"Hmm?"

"Angela," I say. "Before she saw you and practically squealed... maybe when we were in the closet, and she was on the other end of the line; I think she heard us talking. She'll probably think she was dreaming though. I suspect she has numerous dreams about you."

He coughs. "Wait, what?"

"She's a little bit in love with you," I inform him.

"Wow."

"Don't be surprised," I say. "A healthy portion of the school's female population has a crush on you."

"Where do you fit in?" he asks, and I feel the heat rise up my neck.

"Personally, I find Speedos greatly disturbing."

He laughs. Honest to God laughs, and I can't help my own smile. "I don't wear a Speedo, Bella. I'm a swimmer, not a diver."

"I suppose I'll just have to see it for myself."

"I suppose you will."

It's at times like these that I wonder if there's a line I'm crossing. Sure, he's allowed to be flirty and coy, but what am I doing? I mean, technically, I just said I would go and support my friend when he swims, but why did it sound so suggestive?

Edward clears his throat. "So I may or may not have decked Alec after you left."

I gasp. "What!"

Angela shifts on my bed, and I turn away, dropping the volume of my voice.

"Edward?" I rush. "What did you do?"

He waits a beat. "Okay, so, he was being an asshole, and he wasn't even a little bit sorry that he'd given her alcohol when she was very clear that she didn't want any, and I guess I just got so mad. I mean, it's one thing to do it, but to show absolutely no remorse about it... I think he's a psychopath; I really do."

I blink. "Why'd you punch him?"

"For the record, he swung at me first. I just retaliated." He lets out a puff of breath. "I told you I was tougher than I looked. My dainty little hands are unhurt."

"You punched him?" I ask, stupidly needing the clarification.

"He's definitely going to bruise."

I'm still in a state of disbelief. "Wow."

"It would have been awkward at school on Monday, so it's a good thing the year is over."

"How do you reckon it's going to affect your friendship now?" I ask.

"I don't know," he admits. "I wasn't ever really that friendly with him anyway. He's more Emmett's friend, so there's no loss for me. But he is vindictive, so there are other ways for him to make me hurt, as it were."

"How?"

"It doesn't matter right now," he says to placate me. He must know how I'm going to worry.

"Edward."

"Bella."

"Edward."

"Goodnight."

I let out a breath. "Goodnight."

"I'll check in on you in the morning," he finishes. "Try to sleep. Even if you think you can't, try anyway."

I sigh heavily.

"For me?"

"Okay," I say with no hesitation.

"What are you worried about?" he asks, continuing the conversation despite the abrupt bids of goodnight.

"Lots of things."

"Tell me."

"I'm worried about how this will affect Angela," I tell him. "She's already a conservative, heart-on-her-sleeve kind of girl, and I hate that someone, anyone could just see it and take advantage of it. I'm worried this is just the beginning of what I feared high school was like. I'm worried that - "

"What, Bella?"

"I guess I'm also worried about Angela's car," I tell him, hoping he'll drop it.

He does. "Do you want me to take care of that?" he asks. "Because I can."

"No, it's okay."

"I don't mind."

I sigh. As much as I'd love to let him take care of it - whatever that means in Edward Cullen speak - it's too much. He's already done enough. He's done so much. "It's okay," I say.

"Okay," he finally says, and I hear the defeat. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward."

He hangs up first, and I fight a yawn. I set my phone down, and go for a shower. I think I need it, just to calm myself. My mind is spinning, and my body is tense. Tonight should not have happened. I should know better.

The shower helps.

I get dressed quickly, grab my phone and then get into bed. Thankfully, Angela doesn't stir. The room is dark, but my eyes hurt and I'm getting a migraine.

Still, I check my phone. I have one message. From Edward.

Edythe: I'm sorry if I pushed. I just want you to know that it's okay to let me do things for you. I want to. Goodnight X

I smile.

Beaufort: Don't be. I know, and thank you :) Goodnight X

I make sure it's on silent, before I set it on my nightstand, roll over, and try to sleep. I don't know how it happens, but it does.

The sun is shining bright when I next open my eyes.

Angela is still dead to the world, and I think it's best to let her sleep until she can't anymore. She's probably going to be sporting a pretty nasty headache when she does wake up. Poor thing.

I roll out of bed and visit the bathroom. The house is quiet when I emerge from behind my bedroom door, and I head down the stairs to find my mom in the kitchen, a cup of tea in her hands and a boiling pot of something on the stove.

"Hi, Sweetheart," she says when she sees me.

"Hi."

"How's Angela?"

"Still asleep."

She nods thoughtfully. "You know we're going to have to talk about this with your father, right?"

I also nod.

That's it. I didn't come downstairs for this. I turn to go, but her voice stops me.

"Oh, Bella, here," my mom says, reaching for something on the counter, and then holding it out for me. It's a set of keys. "I believe these belong to Angela."

I frown. "Huh?"

"A man dropped them off early this morning," she says. "Felix, he said. Told me that he had the car washed and delivered in one piece. It's parked out front."

My mouth must be hanging open.

"I assume young Edward had something to do with this?"

I just about nod.

"That's very... nice of him."

I don't really understand her tone, but I'm still in a bit of shock. I told him. I told him. "Yeah," I say, taking the keys from her. How did he even get the keys? Did Angela leave them in her car? "It is."

I rush back up the stairs, find my phone and shoot him a text.

Beaufort: I'm starting to think you don't listen. What is Angela's car doing outside my house right now?

His reply is almost instant.

Edythe: Good morning to you too. I assume it drove itself. Cars are amazing things, you know. Maybe it went all Lightning McQueen on you.

Beaufort: Edythe.

Edythe: Beau.

Beaufort: Did you just shorten my name?

Edythe: Maybe. I thought you'd like it, seeing as you're so AGAINST people using your full name.

I've never really told anyone other than my family why.

Beaufort: Angela's car. How? Why? Just.

Beaufort: Thank you.

Edythe: You're welcome.

I sigh.

This boy.

He's, single-handedly, going to bring about my ruin. I just know it.