Charlie wasn't the fancy type, but he made something of a special effort on what he considered to be special occasions. One of them had been graduation, but things like birthdays tended to earn me a pizza. I knew he was proud of my Ivy League acceptance when he went all-out and got Chinese food, egg rolls and all.
Edward and Alice were, of course, invited and the three of us played along with Charlie's excitement, talking about everything from dorms to plans for Thanksgiving break. Charlie, who had never strayed far from Forks, seemed to enjoy the idea of having an excuse to fly to New Hampshire for a mid-semester visit.
I tried not to fidget, but it was hard to see Charlie so excited about something that was never going to happen. I was almost relieved when the inevitable question came up about finances. No one would think less of me for waiting until I had enough money for the first year.
"So," Charlie said in a slightly nervous voice, "Dartmouth. Guess we'll have to crack open my retirement fund after all."
"Don't be ridiculous," I said flatly. "I've been checking into financial aid…"
"Charlie," Edward interrupted before I could give him the rest of my flimsy excuse. "I spent half the spring force-feeding Bella applications. You don't ireally/i think I forgot scholarship applications, do you?"
Charlie looked nearly as relieved as he did when he found out that Edward and I iweren't/i having a shotgun wedding. No matter that I had never seen anything of the sort. If I had been the one telling the lie, my ears would have gone red long before now.
"So you've heard back from one of them?"
Alice coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Pacific Northwest Trust" and snuck another piece of sweet and sour pork onto my plate. I took that excuse to stuff my face and let Edward invent the answer.
"Not yet," he said mildly, "but she's eligible for everything from merit scholarships to student loans. We'll probably know how bad tuition's going to be in a couple of weeks."
"Plus I've saved some money in my bank account," I reminded Charlie pointedly.
"I want to help," he said as obstinately as possible.
"Don't worry," Alice piped up. "Bella's going to need a whole new wardrobe for Dartmouth. If you want…"
"iNo/i" all three of us chorused.
I knew that Alice iwould/i find a way to make me her cashmere-wearing, silk-loving, polyester-eschewing Dartmouth Barbie somehow, but she just wouldn't have Charlie's cooperation in the matter. She looked slightly disgruntled at that, but she would have her vengeance for the wedding.
"I'll let you know," I promised.
"Good," he said approvingly. "Now, have whatever you want—I think I've eaten enough for a week—but the Mariners are on in two minutes…"
"Go," I urged him, relieved to have ithat/i conversation over with. "I'll be back by curfew."
He was halfway to the living room with moo-shu pork and two potstickers by the end of the sentence. I finished off the food on my plate as quickly as possible, did the dish and turned expectantly back to face the unblushing liars at my kitchen table.
"So," I said, "scholarship applications?"
"I wasn't lying," Edward said blandly. "A few of those iwere/i, just in case Charlie checked into that."
"Huh," I responded, not convinced. "What sort of scholarships?"
"Garden variety," he said evasively. "I'll tell you more once we're home."
Once were there, however, Alice took over her usual role of incessant wedding planner. Since it was only days since I had consented to let her plan my first stage of the happily-ever-after, she still had a lot of "fundamental questions." Edward tried to sneak away for a bit while she had me cornered, but I countered by letting her follow me following him around. I figured at least ione/i of them would eventually give up and answer my questions.
"Dresden Dolls?"
Since Alice's last questions were about the allowed music for the reception, I assumed this was a band.
"I've never heard of them," I said. "Do I want to and iwhat/i kind of scholarships?"
"Possibly," Edward considered. "Mike Newton might relate to 'Coin-Operated Boy.'"
"Mike Newton will have no say in this," I snapped. "What ikind/i of scholarships?"
"Nothing by My Chemical Romance," Edward requested over my repeated question. "This is a iwedding./i If Rosalie isn't allowed to play Scriabin at the ceremony, you're not putting 'Famous Last Words' on the...I do inot/i ruin all your fun!"
"Fair enough," Alice said with a slightly sulky expression. "What kind of ischolarships/i?"
He glowered at her for encouraging me. She shrugged and smiled winningly.
"What, she gets to pester you and I idon't?/i"
Edward ignored her and sighed as he turned to me. "A variety," he reiterated. "Garden variety. Dell Scholars Program, Horatio Alger..."
"Coca-Cola," Alice added. "I insisted."
"Anything we could find where we could swipe one of your English or History papers and submit it for you," he continued.
"And I got rejected from all of these?" I challenged.
"What about Evanescence?" Edward asked Alice.
"Don't you think 'My Immortal' would be a little too obvious?" she countered.
"Good point," he considered; before I could interrupt again, he held up a hand. "You haven't been rejected from anything, Bella. I didn't lie to Charlie about that, either."
"Then why are you being evasive about this?" I demanded.
"It's a ihobby/i" Alice blurted out.