Dear Kernel,

Do you have self confidence issues? When you sent me those pictures on your email I was expecting to see a pretty girl in a last resort dress. Corn, although my favorite vegetable, does not do you any justice. You looked absolutely stunning. You didn't look like corn. You looked like a gorgeous flower; a fully bloomed, beautiful sunflower. And I'm completely aware that wording it like that does give me quite the creepish sound.

I don't know why I decided to email you today. Our computers are up and picking up the Internet for the most part now so things have been much easier. It's my day off and I remembered that you had a pretty big day. So, after I twiddled my thumbs for hours I decided to send an email. I have to say, I actually enjoyed emailing almost as much as letters. Almost because everyone over here looks forward to a physical letter to be addressed to them.

I got your letter dated last week today. I will book a flight as soon as I find time to get back on the computers again. As nice as it is to offer to cover the trip, I assure you, when the army's your life and you don't have any family. . .you do begin to build up a bit of a bank account. Don't worry; it's no problem for me.

How has your golf season been going? Congratulations on taking first at your first meet, I knew you would kick ass. As a general rule, I'm always right. But that's just typically. I hope you continue to have a great season. Emmett tells me that Rosalie asked him to walk along at sections. He hasn't given her an answer, but I'm thinking he'll say yes. With his mom being such a country club snob, Emmett learned how to play golf when he was about four while his mom was always meeting friends for lunch.

I definitely did not grow up by lakes. So, no; I have no clue how to water ski, or wakeboard. I could probably fish to save my life, and water tubing doesn't seem that difficult. . .but I'll end up eating my words on that one I assume. But, hey, I'm willing to try all of them.

Remember back when you asked what my life here was really like? You somewhat demanded I tell you about my everyday life. Well, I told you it isn't something you want to think about, but if you want to really know, here it goes.

Yesterday my squad was on patrol, another squad from a different platoon was out as well. The Iraqi people that resist our efforts think setting road side bombs will stop us. We shouldn't have missed it; someone should have been able to catch it before it went off. One of the other men closest to the bomb. . .Bella, his legs got blown off. He had third degree burns all over his body. Others were burned as well, but when we brought the kid into the medical tent and they begin work on him, his heart line went flat on the monitor. I had been standing by, explaining the situation to the working medics when it happened.

Those are the things that happen all of the time, Bella. Granted, normally they are less severe. Things like that make you wonder how much one can actually handle. Sergeants are like older brothers, and squads are families, not like families; families. And when something happens to one of your guys, well, it's about as close as I've came to feeling like I was in hell. But that's the burden we all have here. When we get close to someone, in the back of our minds we know that any day we spend with them could be one of our last. But the pain of that thought is easier to bare than being alone out here.

I could have saved him. I didn't kill him, I know that, but I gave him a death wish. I should have been more aware. Had I been paying attention we wouldn't be sending his body with an American flag draped over the casket home. It's my fucking fault he died. There are so many things I could have done to stop it. Hell, had we just been quicker to get him response, he'd probably still be breathing.

The kid who died. . .he was barely 19. When you're 19, your whole life is ahead of you. He probably joined the army to help pay for his college or something. He probably had a girl back home, waiting anxiously for him to come home. He probably had a mom, sitting at home, worrying everyday for her son. His name was Private Hayden. Daniel Hayden. I don't know why I'm telling you this, I guess maybe by writing his name down. . .maybe that helps him to live on, just the smallest bit.

I know that it could easily have been me. Death itself doesn't frighten me, it's what happens next. I know if I die, I'll die a faceless name, lost in history with no one to remember me, no one to miss me. I'm not vain enough to wish for statues built in my honor, or streets named after me. But when I leave this world, I just want to know that someone will occasionally think of me and remember my name.

I'm sorry this is so short, but I can't keep writing.

Sincerely,
Sergeant Masen

I sighed as I read the letter one more time. I would miss him.

I turned my head to watch the scenery that was flying by through the large window, framing the twilight. We were on a coach bus, coming back from another one of our meets. I was exhausted and slightly disappointed. I played fine but the team didn't do that well and we took third. Individually, I took third.

It concerned me that Edward could be so fun and happy in the first part of his letter and then suddenly he was in pain. It just made me sad to think of the things Edward goes through. I knew he spared me the details of the explosion; I was fine with not knowing. But Edward couldn't just not know. He couldn't just skim over the details when they were probably perfectly etched in his mind. Experiences like that are the ones that stay with you. The ones you see when you close your eyes and try to sleep.

I had gotten the letter when I went home today to get my golf shoes which I had forgotten. When I had checked the mail, there was mail for me. Edward had written the letter last week when I was at prom. I had a quick chance to read it before rushing back to school to get on the bus. The letter had been securely tucked in my backpack during the meet and I had another chance to read it.

My head fell against the headrest on the seat and I closed my eyes. I curled my legs under me and opened my eyes, gazing out the window again. I wasn't looking, I was just thinking.

Edward was going to book his flight. Great. Edward thought I looked beautiful, no, stunning in my dress. Awesome. I was going to meet Emmett if he came to sections. Super.

The sadness of the second portion of his letter weighed down on me. I watched a young kid die. Those are the things that happen all of the time, Bella. All the time? I thought I was a strong person, and then you read things like that, and it really makes you question who on earth have the most strength.

The worst part of that whole thing is that by the way he was writing it. He was blaming himself for a death caused by some Iraqi. He blamed himself for not being better. It made my heart ache for the faceless soldier with green eyes.

I allowed my thoughts to wander. Alice was only a couple years older than me. We both lost our parents at young ages. And she joined the army and is dealing with the same things that Edward is. It made me feel exceedingly insignificant. . .not that I really cared; it was more of an observation.

I was rubbing my sleep deprived face with both my hands when I felt someone sit down next to me. Well I knew it wasn't Rose at least. She was crashing behind me. Actually, she was blocking the aisle because her feet were stretched across to the seats beside her.

Opening my eyes I saw Brenner sit down in the empty seat next to mine. I tucked my feet in closer to me and fought back a yawn. I really hoped we weren't going to have a very in depth conversation. Sleep had just about to come to me. This better be good, Brenner, or someone's going to die. . .

I looked at him expectantly. "I wanted to talk to you about how the season has been going."

"Shouldn't you wake Rose up for this?" I asked him quizzically.

"Firstly, no way in heck will I be the one that wakes her up. And secondly this little talk only pertains to you." Well that got my attention. I angled myself so I was looking comfortably at Brenner.

"So what I'm about to say in purely theoretical. Don't go getting all offended." I nodded. Brenner continued. "Your game has been amazing this year, Bella. There is absolutely no denying it. Today was an off day for the entire team, I expect that every once in awhile."

"Where exactly are you going with this. . .?"

Ignoring my comment, Brenner continued. "I've seen you at the sky dome working your tail off over the winter. That's awesome, and you've really improved. But there is something else that I noticed. Our first meet after you got off the phone with that guy; you shot your best round."

"Edward," I automatically corrected.

"Well, Edward. Anyway, since you've come into repeated contact with him, you have been playing as well as the number 1 in state. But today, I think it was more than a bad day." It was goddamn awful day. . .

"I'm assuming that letter is from him, and I'm also assuming that he wrote something that frustrated you in it. Now these are two assumptions that if wrong, throw off my entire theory." My eyes began narrowing without my knowing as I started to figure out where he was going with this.

I sighed. "Yeah, I suppose frustration would be a fair enough definition." Or despair. Whatever; same thing.

Brenner nodded thoughtfully. Several moments later, right before the silence was about to annoy me, he started to speak once more.

"Here's where you have to go with me and not smack me. I think with this Edward guy in your life now, when things are good and he's happy, you're happy. And as a result, your happiness puts you in a calmer and more content manner which does wonders to your game." I processed that for a second. "But today, he was upset or wrote something that would upset you, so now, you didn't play well because you were frustrated, and therefore distracted with something he said."

Once it was clear that Brenner's little speech had come to an end I leaned back. I had to give him credit; he was definitely much more observant then I had thought. But his little idea seemed to have some good reasoning. I had to admit he was right, when things were good in Sergeant Masen World, I was generally relieved and happy. But today, that letter had been on my mind most of the round and it didn't go too well.

I reflected Edward's feelings. That was basically what Brenner was trying to point out. It made sense. I hadn't realized I was doing it, but now that he pointed it out, I did. But I didn't know what that meant. It probably wasn't normal for you to mirror someone else's feelings who you haven't even met. I hadn't comprehended how deep I was in with Edward.

And I didn't want to admit it to Brenner.

"Well I worked really hard over the year to improve my game. Maybe I'm just that good without him and today it was just too cold and my score suffered." I was being rude; I could hear it in my voice. I really just didn't want to accept what he was saying. Plus, he was use to my decidedly snarky attitude.

Brenner almost rolled his eyes. He could see through that shit fairly effortlessly. "See? I told you not to go get offended. I said it was just a theory. And you know it wasn't the cold. You've been playing it for years; you are well equipped for it."

I didn't say anything. This was embarrassing. I wasn't even dating Edward! I was a little mad that Brenner was so intuitive. We were just friends. Friends who apparently shared an intense connection. . .

"What exactly are you trying to say by telling me this?"

"Just be careful, Swan. It's not really my business and you can take care of yourself, but don't get your heart broken." I nodded, my lips turning up in the slightest. It was slightly weird to see this side of Brenner. But it was nice nevertheless to be reminded that people cared all around me, especially after Edward's most recent letter. He grinned back at me then before adding, "Because then all hopes of our team placing in state go down the toilet. Not like Rosa-freaking-93 back there can carry the team."

I laughed as he jolted forward from a solid kick to the back of his seat. Rosalie happened to be awake. And apparently not too happy with him for mocking her score. Rolling his eyes, he rocketed out of his seat and went to bug Rose some more. I looked on with exasperation.

Though it wasn't his intention, Brenner had managed to thoroughly distract me from Edward's letter. I was glad for it.

The next day, as if Esme had been there during Brennan's talk, I got a little announcement from my adoptive mother. Es on the other hand of Brenner was worried about something other than a broken heart and bad golf game.

"You get pregnant out of wedlock and we will disown you."

That's always something you want to hear over breakfast at 7:30 in the morning. My eyes widened as I tried to force the cereal to go down my throat. While I'm sure there was some sentiment in that lovely statement, I wasn't exactly prepared to discuss that topic.

"Awesome."

"I'm being serious," Esme chided me as she sipped her coffee like we were discussing our monthly donations to those sad homeless animal commercials. It was the fact that she was being serious that frightened me.

"I realize that." I told her, putting down my spoon next to my half eaten bowl of Fruity Pebbles.

"Well, your fath- Carlisle," she caught herself and continued, trying not to draw attention to her little slip. "He's concerned about the arrival of Edward in a few weeks." Four and a half, I mentally corrected her.

So I may have been counting down. Sue me.

"Anyway. Let's go get you protected from STDs!" I blanched as Esme cheerfully clapped her hands. Of course I realized that she was being in fact sarcastic, but it wasn't easy. I stared at her, my eyebrows up to my hairline. She was ridiculously amused by this whole ordeal.

I wasn't a little slut. I wasn't going to jump Edward the second he got off the plane. I wasn't planning to jump him at all! Besides. . .the legal age of consent here was 18. So, even if I wanted to screw his brains out; it was illegal. And I'm pretty sure that statutory rape wouldn't look great on his record.

"When you say go get protected, I hope you mean buying a pack of condoms." My mental freak out was already at stage two. I was trying to coach myself; it probably wouldn't be that bad. Esme knows you already had the talk. Esme's fine, it could be worse; Carlisle could be having this conversation with you. You'll be fine.

I had heard the stories of the girls in my grade. About half were on some sort of birth control. Therefore they had already had their fun little exam. And they all had different tales. No one fucking cares that some dude felt you up. Stop being so damn dramatic. But over the months I had heard my share, no matter how unwilling I was.

"Nope. You have an appointment with Dr. Mitchell today." I skipped over stage three and went straight to four. We were almost at full blown panic.

I glared at Esme's eyes which were twinkling with laughter. I hated to get this worked up over something like this, but I really didn't want some doctor up in my privates. I was a very. . .private person. Oh for the love of God; I hated unintentional puns. . .

"If I have a male doctor you will be dragging me out of this house kicking and screaming."

"Stop being over dramatic. Dr. Mitchell is a woman. Carlisle arranged for her to meet with you. She's one of the best," she half heartedly soothed me.

"Fantastic. One of Carlisle's friends. That's just great. I can just see this doctor grabbing a cup of coffee in the break room while chatting with Carlisle. The weather's lovely out. Did you hear about the national dept? Yeah, it's pretty bad. Did you know your daughter is sexually clean? Nope, no STDs whatsoever. Yup, she is healthy as a horse down there. Well, nice talking to you!"

Esme blinked as I ended my little, and slightly hysterical rant. Then she rolled her eyes and smirked at me. I continued to glare at her like the teenage that I was.

"Don't be ridiculous. She wouldn't say that." Esme sighed, "The national dept is horrendous; not pretty bad."

I said nothing.

"Oh, stop glaring. Go get dressed; your appointment is in half an hour." Sighing, I pushed myself from the table and sulked upstairs.

They say that if you aren't mature enough to have these exams then you shouldn't be having sex in the first place. First off, I wasn't having sex and I really wasn't counting on it. And second, I was mature enough to handle this, I was just choosing not to, because I felt no need for it, hence the first point.

"You know, I talked to Rosalie's mom too. She is having her exam done today as well," Esme called up the stairs in a matter-of-factly tone. I snickered. That did make me feel a lot better actually. I could not wait for her stories.

"Why exactly do I need a pelvic exam? I'm about as virginal as a rock," I complained as I climbed into Esme's Pearl Escalade.

"It's not a pelvic exam. It's more like. . .a tiny pelvic exam. It'll be fine," she sighed as she slid on her large sunglasses and pulled out of the drive way.

"Awesome. As long as it isn't a full blown pelvic exam," I responded with the utmost sarcasm.

"That's the spirit." Esme grinned over at me. "I would die to see Rose's reaction when her mom told her."

"She will definitely have stories for me later." I smiled as well. But then again, I'll probably have just as great of an experience as her.

"Oh my God! You gotta hear about my doctor's appointment!" Yes! I internally cheered as Rosalie unbuckled her seat belt and leaned up towards me.

I was extraordinarily relieved. I didn't get an exam whatsoever. Well, Dr. Mitchell didn't get a view of my vagina at least. We had a quick little verbal conversation and I got information on every type of birth control possible. After being completely overwhelmed, I decided to get a depo shot. Esme got me ice cream afterward. I had smiled like a little boy on Christmas.

I wasn't planning on playing a round of golf after getting blood drawn and a shot, but Rosalie and I had made a tee-time yesterday with Elliot and Jacob. So we decided to suck it up and play.

I had picked Elliot up in my truck along with Rosalie and we had gotten to the golf course way before Jacob. So we stayed in the truck for a little bit. Elliot was fiddling with the radio in the front seat next to me. He turned it down when Rosalie leaned in between the two seats.

"Some old fart fingered me this morning! He was really creepy, but yet he looked like my fucking grandpa!" I grinned as Rosalie started her tale with exuberance. Glancing at Elliot, I saw him cringe. Rose didn't really have that many limits.

"He told me to put my feet on these little stands and I was 'Oh, wha? Kay?' so I did. And then he spreads my legs like into splits and puts on his glasses like he's about to read a damn book." She took a breath and then dove right back in. "I had sent my mom out of the room and the man was just talking to me. He told me if I felt uncomfortable at any point a nurse or my mom could come in to hold my hand. Um, great, so, I should ask for a nurse after you shove your fingers in there?" I laughed as Rosalie grimaced. I was having trouble keeping up with her fast pace speaking. And her octave was going all over the place.

"And then! Then he shoved this little metal thing right into my–" Rosalie was just getting to the best part when Elliot abruptly cut her off.

"I'm done," he said simply, grimacing as he opened the passenger door and walked right out. He stalked away shaking his head.

"Where's he going?" she asked, confused. "Should I go out and apologize?"

"I bet that's exactly what he wants to hear. Hey Elliot, sorry I was so expressive while I was explaining what they did to my womanly parts? I'm sure that would go over amazingly," I replied sarcastically. Rosalie's mouth formed a small 'O' for a moment before she launched right back into her tale.

"After him staring in there for like 20 minutes he pulled it out and then he shoved his fingers right in there. And I was like 'Holy Fuck! Mom!'"

As much as Edward wanted to know about my life, and how open he was about his, this would definitely not be something I would be sharing with him in any future letters. Period.


From yesterday, it's coming
From yesterday, the fear
From yesterday, it calls him
But he doesn't wanna read the message here

On a mountain he sits, not of gold, but of sin
Through the blood, he can learn see the life that it turn
From council of one he'll decide when he's done
With the innocent on his face is a map of the world
A map of the world, on his face is a map of the world
From Yesterday, 30 Seconds to Mars


-Gotta love Rose. Hope you're ready for her mom! Hands up if you love an insightful Brenner...
-Emmett next chapter? Why yes. Yes indeed.
-Again, I wanted to thank you all for your tremendous support and love you continue to give me with this story...you don't know how blessed I am to have each and everyone of you as readers. And that sentiment says a fucking lot; 'cause generally I'm more sarcastic than Bella, and so not sentimental.

-Finally...I'm kinda curious...where exactly do you think Bella lives? She doesn't live in Forks, or even Washington. So let's play where in the US is Bella! Leave me your guesses(: