January went by extremely fast. I was going to the Sky Dome more with Carlisle and Rose. The entire school was convinced that Elliot and I were dating which was perfect. The boys chasing me? Well, they were still there but they didn't have the nerve to ask me out anymore. And the ones I tolerated still talked to me all the time, though now with much more boundaries.

Anyway, basketball season was in full swing. Our school's team was doing amazing, barely ever being defeated. And I, being the star player's "girlfriend," was expected to go to all of the games and pretend to be as in love as possible with Elliot. I liked him a lot as a friend, but the act on the other hand was starting to get pretty damn old.

I was right about one thing I said weeks ago at the dance. We were the school's favorite couple. Every other couple wanted to go on double dates with us; everyone wanted the two of us to go to their parties. It was flattering and yet really annoying at the same time.

At the beginning of February I had already gotten two letters from Edward. They weren't in response to the one I sent on the 10th, instead they were about his time at training camp. I always found myself laughing my head off at the stories he would tell. At the same time though, it bothered me that I couldn't really picture anything in my head. I could imagine the scene and some of the other people he'd described, but I had no idea what the Sergeant even looked like.

I had gotten a hang of the pattern of the mail. Edward's camp wasn't that remote and he stayed in the same place, so they were pretty good at getting mail there quickly. I should have gotten a response before January ended. When I didn't, I started to get nervous, and then I got embarrassed for sending him pictures. He probably didn't care what the hell I looked like. God, he'll just think I'm some needy little girl. I definitely felt like one.

That was another thing. I didn't really like when he called me a girl in his letters. Even if it was a compliment, it wasn't all that flattering. Girls were older than toddlers but younger than women. I was a woman, a young one granted, but a woman nevertheless. It didn't really bother me per say. . .I had just noticed it as an observation.

All these things were running through my head as I sat on the couch in our living room. I was flipping through channels on the TV and kept stealing glances out the wide windows. I was anxious for the mail truck to come. That was, if I didn't scare Edward off. Which I probably had.

Right as I was about to chide myself for being an idiot. . .for the ninth time, the mail truck pulled up to our mailbox. I got up from the couch, anxious to see if there was a letter addressed from Iraq for me.

There was.

I grinned the whole way up the driveway. Yeah there were some bills for Carlisle and Esme and some magazines, but I wasn't remotely interested in those. I wondered if Alice had written anything back, because the envelope was slightly thicker than normal. Maybe he had just written a longer letter than usual.

I sat back down on the couch after dropping the other various mailings on the counter where Esme always sat. This was the first time I was going to be able to read a letter without Esme sitting in the exact same spot, raising an eyebrow at me. And that eyebrow just seemed to be getting more and more pointed. I wasn't sure if it was smug, amused or even knowing.

Opening the envelope gently with my thumb my suspicions were confirmed. There was another pink stationary floating next to the notebook paper filled with Edward's handwriting. I stared at the two papers for a moment, silently debating which one to read first. Decided, I grabbed Edward's letter first.

I settled back into the couch with the grin back on my face. Then I started to read yet another piece of Edward's life.

Dear Bella,

Nice to hear from you as always. Sorry this letter is going to reach you a few days late. My notebook was all filled up so it took me a little while to locate one. Basic stuff like that is difficult to find here. And I refused to use Alice's little fruity, pink, frilly paper. I gotta draw a line somewhere.

Speaking of the devil, I bet you already noticed that Alice wrote you a letter herself. I figured because you were curious about her, she was the better one to answer those questions. A lot of us over here joined the army to get away from our pasts and personal life. None of us really talk much about our lives back home, unless they have normal American stereotypical lives. One of the guys in my squad has a little girl who we all like to hear stories of, and we pretty much all adopted her as our niece. The innocence of those stories is so welcomed by everyone.

I'm not sure how much you know about military shit. Which I really shouldn't be referring to that as considering I'm a sergeant, but it's for lack of a better word. So I guess I should start to explain some things.

A sergeant commands a squad of nine or ten privates. In my case, I have ten soldiers that I am in charge of. Alice would be an example of a private, though she's tougher than our company captain. My job is to make sure that my guys (and Alice) get home to their moms.

This is my second tour – my first one I was a private. Coming back, I was recommended to lead a squad of my own by my previous lieutenant. You gotta work your way slowly up the ranks in the army world.

But, back to the squads; after squads comes the second smallest structure of the army which is a platoon. Typically they are made up of two to four squads and lead by a lieutenant. The two other sergeants in my platoon are Emmett and Jasper. Emmett is my roommate who I mentioned before. His squad and mine were given the luxury of a building to live in. Jasper's out with his squad in the trailers. We are all led under our lieutenant Peter.

Then you typically stick three to five platoons together under one captain and you get a company. Our company has roughly 125 men and 5 women. Alice is the only women in our platoon of 32. Even though she doesn't admit it, I'm fairly convinced that she loves it.

I'm not supposed to have favorites as a sergeant, but Alice is my favorite. Being an only child, she's such a pain in the ass that it's almost like having a sister. At least I assume so; I have nothing to compare it to.

I think that that's enough army stats for the moment. It's so much easier to write about other things in these letters – they're more like escapes from the army world. I have the same country pride as everyone here it's just hard to show as much enthusiasm as the young privates on their first tours.

Tell me more about your life, Bella. Does that sound intense? God, I hate not being able to use the right tones when I'm talking to someone. You definitely don't have that problem at all. I get when you're being sarcastic right away. . .At least I think so. You write describing yourself perfectly, in my head it feels like I know you. I mean, more than just letters back and forth. I don't know how to get a clear picture of you in my head.

Did I mention I suck at this? Because if I didn't, I think that paragraph right there just told you everything you need to know.

I'll just go back to what you said in your letter, it seems like a better start. Do I have any friends for Rose?

Gee, thanks for the elaboration there.

If you mean army friends that would appreciate some letters addressed to them every once in awhile, then yes I do. If you mean single friends, then yes I do. Either way I would say the same person though. Sergeant McCarthy. Informally know as Emmett, my infamous roommate.

I wrote his email address on the back if you want to give it to her even though Internet connection is extremely funky. It's usually only up for a few minutes at the most. So Emmett installed a program on his laptop that automatically sends his emails whenever the connection is working. Pretty handy actually. I suggested the email approach for Rose because Emmett really isn't all that patient when it comes to waiting for letters or anything.

I don't have much more to add. . .sorry. You're better at giving me things to write. Answering your questions is the easiest, and I love hearing about your life. I hope you don't need me to ask questions about everything. I'd rather you just tell me the stuff you want to.

Your pictures are. . .beautiful. Thanks for sending them to me. I never would have worked up the nerve to ask for anything like that, so I'm glad I have a picture of you smiling in my head now. It was nice to see Esme, Carlisle and Rose to. If they ever ask about me tell them I say hello.

Sincerely,

Sergeant Masen

Under his ever prominent signature was Emmett's email address. I would text Rose later. In the back of my mind I wondered why he always ended his letters that way. Mine were always changing.

I set the letter onto the coffee table, setting it alongside Alice's letter which I decided to read momentarily. Tea sounded really good at the moment. I was a bit of a tea fanatic; I had been since I was about 12. Esme enjoyed it as well, so we were fairly well stocked up at the Cullen house.

I didn't feel like turning on the stove so I grabbed a mug from one of the top shelves and filled it with tap water. Placing it in the microwave I pressed a few buttons and then shut the door.

While I was opening the mint tea bag I thought about Edward's letter. I had noticed that he referred to Alice as a woman. Though I wasn't referred to a girl this time (at least I thought not), I noticed that he was very hesitant and almost unwilling to share information about his personal life. That wasn't a bad thing; I could accept that I was somewhat open with my life and others weren't, but Edward just seemed closed off.

I thought next about his last paragraph. Repeating it in my head I wondered what to make of it. I made a note to pick apart that later. Was beautiful stronger than pretty? But he had made a joke about being intense; this could be one of those things he was talking about.

My musings were interrupted by the loud shrill of the microwave.

Once I had my honey stirred in with steaming water, I settled back into the couch. I took a sip of the hot drink and shuddered a little as the extremely warm water traveled down my throat. Then I set the drink down to cool and picked up the shorter letter that Alice had written.

In my previous letter to Edward I had asked him more about Alice. I had even wondered if she needed some items personally. I was curious about this "woman" – I inwardly sighed at that – and how she was living over there. I hadn't really expected a response from her, but I was kinda excited about it.

Bonjour Bella,

I'm not French, but I've always wanted to go there. Besides the point though. I just didn't want to use dear. It sounds too formal.

When Edward started asking me if my supply on tampons was good I figured it would be everyone's best interest that I write you a reply myself. We have tampons here, but they're not good quality at all. I'm shuddering right now as I write this. Tampax would be amazing!

I hate to ask for anything, I'm generally a pretty proud person, but with very little contact in the states I am on my own getting things I need. I really need some ponytail holders; they have to be really dark brown, almost black. Unfortunately they have to be the same color as our hair so no brightly colored ones. Um, some chap stick too?

If it's possible I'm in a desperate search for white ankle socks. And some shampoo and body wash. I hate smelling like an 80 year old lady. The same goes with deodorant. I would also love to have a nail file. I don't know if you're one of those girls who care about nails, if you are, you know the feeling. Pretty much any hygiene that you would normally need I do too. . .

I'm a year younger than Edward and this is my first tour in Iraq. It doesn't seem like it though – we've been here since August. It was extremely weird to be entirely surrounding by testosterone when we first got here. I adjusted though I guess, and most of the guys don't give me a hard time. The ones that do. . .well they leave me alone after I politely request it. . .

About the relationship question. . .there is a man over here. But can you not write anything to Edward about it? It's more of a hidden relationship considering he is of higher ranks and we aren't supposed to hook up with other soldiers.

I was there when Edward opened your letter today. It was almost funny his expression when he saw that there were pictures. I don't know how long he looked at each one, but it was awhile. He seems happier in these past weeks than I've seen him this whole tour. Thank you.

Alice (:

I read the end of the letter again. Then I sat back, exchanging the parchment for the tea. A small, meaningful smile ghosted over my lips as I thought about what she had written. I didn't how to describe the feeling that was coming over me as I thought about it. Maybe content? I wasn't beaming or jumping, but I was. . .content.

Alice was alright, that certainly made me grin. I decided that she had already written me two letters; I should really return the favor. Who knows, the two of us could end up becoming friends? But by what she wrote, it seemed like she really needed someone to talk to about her and her mystery soldier man.

It made me feel a sense of melancholy as I recalled that she had very little contact in America. I assumed that meant she didn't have much or any family that supported her needs. But Edward had said that no one really talked about their past because they were trying to get away from it. I made a decision after a moment not to ever pry about Edward or Alice's background.

Letting my head fall against the couch I started to compose a shopping list. I had just babysat my coach's kid for the whole day so I had some money that I could buy her the things she needed with. If she was actually asking, it meant she was in an actual need for it. I had discovered that soldiers all had a sense of pride and none of them really liked to be dependent.

Fifteen minutes later the last few sips of my tea sat unforgotten on the coffee table. I had texted Esme and she said she would love to go shopping with me. She was meeting me at the mall. The roads were thankfully less icy today so I was able to drive with more ease.

When I was five minutes out from the shopping complex my phone started ringing. I checked the number and shrugged. Switching hands on the wheel I flipped open my phone and brought it to my ear.

"Hi Elliot," I greeted him.

"Hey Bella."

"What's up?" I asked him as I came to a stop light and leaned back against the leather seat.

"I was wondering if you were going to be coming to the game on Tuesday." That seemed odd; I went to most of his games without him even having to ask.

"Yeah, I was planning on it. Why?"

"Tyler and Lauren want us to go to the party at her house afterwards." I couldn't pinpoint how Elliot felt about the request. I, on the other hand, groaned. The light blinked green and I hit the gas pedal a little too harshly.

Elliot chuckled across the line.

"Do you want to?" I asked him with a sigh. Lauren's house was the last place I want to be, especially on a school night. She had kegs of beer and other alcohol, the girls always dressed like little sluts, and I always had to try to be nice to Lauren. She hated me, I didn't like her, but she tried her hardest to make it seem like we were the best of friends. It was extremely frustrating.

"Not at all, I just told Tyler I would run it by you. What's a good excuse?" I was so relieved that he didn't have any interest in going either.

"Tell him my ferret died," I replied in an uninterested monotone.

"That's horrible karma if you do have a ferret, you know," he commented lightly, chuckling. I started to laugh as well.

"Well it's fortunate that I don't. Well I gotta go. see you Monday!" After he said bye, I disconnected the call. I pulled into the mall parking lot and noticed Esme's gleaming Escalade. Even in all the snow and brown slush she kept her car clean as a pearl.

I filled her in on why I was shopping as we walked up the sidewalk to entrance of Target. She seemed happy with the idea. But it was when I mentioned Edward again that she rose another eyebrow.

"How is Edward?"

"He says hello," I answered, hoping to get out of one of these conversation. I grabbed a basket as soon as we were in the warm store. If Esme had an opinion, she didn't comment. Instead she just stood there.

"So. Let's go fine some socks," I said cheerfully, trying to shake the awkward away.

While we were getting different things for Alice, I found a notebook to send to Edward. I also grabbed him some tootsie rolls because he said a few weeks ago that he liked them.

I loved shopping with Esme. She knew exactly what to get in any situation. And she was also a good person to talk to mindlessly.

"How is school?" she asked as we found ourselves surrounded by an aisle of socks.

"Grade wise? 4.0. Social wise? Eh, you know. I don't really like people." It was so pathetic that it was pretty much a joke in our family. Rose was the only one else who got it.

"How's Belliot going?" I grimaced. The not so clever student body had lovingly dubbed us as a witty version of our names. You agree to fake date someone and suddenly you've got a name your mom gives you before you get married. Then I looked at Esme curiously, wondering how she had even heard about that.

"What? I know things!" She looked like I was the strange one for doubting her.

"It just sounds so bad when you say it," I groaned. In the midst of our conversation I was also wondering why they didn't make socks one size fits all. None of this size nonsense made any sense.

Esme grinned back at me. "Before Carlisle and I got married my mom decided we would be Carme." I allowed myself to appreciate the irony for a few moments.

We selected the socks that Esme approved of and went off to get shampoo. Then I thought of something.

"How did you know it was Belliot?"

"Phh, how do people figure things out nowadays?" I wasn't entirely sure where she was getting at with this. Honestly, I didn't know the answer she was looking for.

"They Google it?" I asked.

"Well yeah. . ." she agreed, "but the second way would be Facebook."

I stalked away from a laughing Esme, cursing the book of faces.

"Oooh! Does Edward have a Facebook? He and I could be cyber buds!" There were times when Esme mocked other people for their annoying, strange words. Unfortunately, this was not one of those times.

"We're done with this conversation." I declared, walking farther away from her. I smirked; Esme was in heels.

"What? I'm hip!" she called, but I was just walking farther away. This was partaking in front of the curious Target employees and shoppers.

If our letters ever turned into anything more – which at this point I was clueless of – I sometimes wondered how my family would react to Edward. I knew Carlisle would probably be. . .hesitant, to say the least.

But it was good to know Esme would at least be his Facebook friend.


And I know someday that it'll all turn out
You'll make me work, so we can work to work it out
And I promise you, kid, that I give so much more than I get
I just haven't met you yet

I might have to wait, I'll never give up
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck
Wherever you are, whenever it's right
You'll come out of nowhere and into my life
Haven't Met You Yet, Micheal Buble


-You guys have to bare with me. About two more chapters before you all are going to start seeinng (and hearing;) more about Edward. We just have to get past these.
-How do you like these weekday posts? Lemme know. Because I woke up really fricken early for you guys.
-Thank you SimplyDazzling. Even if you do break my heart.