BPOV

To say I was furious would be putting it mildly. I was angry at those creeps for attacking me in Port Angeles; I was enraged at the powers that be for locking Edward up; and mostly I was frustrated with myself for idiotically rushing things, effectively wasting a day of precious free time. I was now making the three-hour trip back to Forks from Meyer Detention Center, bereft. Seeing Edward hadn't been in the cards today and it was all my fault.

Visiting Edward was a trip I had been looking forward to all week. Charlie was going fishing, blessedly leaving me home alone all day for the first time since my attack. I had assured him for weeks that I was fine and that he could resume his normal weekend activities. He had politely refused and had pretty much annoyed me with his constant presence all summer.

I finally convinced Jacob and his dad, Billy, to get Charlie out this weekend by playing the concerned daughter card. "Charlie really misses fishing, but he feels guilty for what happened to me. Can you guys take him out on the boat and give him a weekend to forget all the bad stuff? I really think he needs this." I gave them my best pouty look and batted my eyelashes furiously.

Suckers. They were completely fooled by my concern for Charlie's wellbeing. It took a little convincing, but Charlie finally agreed to go. They had left before dawn this morning and wouldn't return until late tonight. Now I had my chance to go and visit Edward.

I had researched the Washington State Division of Prisons website and saw that visiting hours were on Wednesdays and Saturdays from ten a.m. until two p.m. Each prisoner was allowed up to one hour of visitation per day. I had pulled up the directions from mapquest and excitedly printed them, hiding them in my room, anxiously waiting for Saturday to arrive.

Finally Saturday dawned and I had left the house around 6:00 in the morning. The directions said it would take three hours to get there, but I knew my truck couldn't go above fifty miles-per-hour, so I figured I should add thirty minutes just to be safe. Plus I needed to allow for extra time in case I got lost, wanting to make sure I got my full hour with Edward. I had no idea what we would talk about for sixty whole minutes, but I'm sure we would think of something. We never seemed to have trouble talking in Biology class.

I smiled at the memory of Edward and me in Biology. I can still remember the first time I saw him. He had taken my breath away. However, I seemed to have a somewhat different effect on him initially.

I had moved to Forks from Phoenix back in January. My mom had remarried and I had surmised that she would be happier if I wasn't around. She loved me, no doubt about it, but she had stayed single my entire childhood and I figured she finally deserved some alone-time with her new husband. And off the record, our house had become a twenty-four hour PDA zone. I could only take so much of my mom and Phil kissing and groping each other in my presence, and I knew there was no chance of that type of thing happening at Charlie's house. I would be in college soon, so I figured I could tough it out for less than two years in the cold wetness known as Forks, Washington.

Still, I wasn't thrilled about moving and didn't look forward to starting all over again at a new school. My old high school back in Arizona was huge, but I had found my small niche of friends, feeling more than content with the eclectic bunch. Now I would be moving to a school that enrolled fewer students than my entire ninth grade class. There were no secrets in small towns like Forks; I was sure everyone at Forks High had known each other since birth. I would be a novelty here and I didn't anticipate playing the role of the shiny new toy. Flying under the radar, my favorite type of travel, simply wouldn't be possible here.

I hadn't even exited my truck before the unofficial Forks High welcoming committee approached and engulfed me. By the time I entered the school I had already had three boys offer their assistance in finding my classes or showing me around Forks. From their close contact and "accidental" brushes against me, I could detect that they were interested in more than just showing me to my classrooms. I felt like a piece of meat and hoped their infatuation over the new girl would fade fast. I had zero experience with boys and the Forks boys' cloy smothering hardly brooked further interest in the male gender. Well, that was until I walked into fifth period Biology.

The first thing I noticed was his hair. I can't say I had ever seen hair that shade before; it was almost bronze in appearance. Thick and full, it was very messy in an organized kind of way. It was the kind of hair that just screamed "run your hands through me!" and I wanted to do just that. I felt like I had won the lottery when the teacher told me to sit next to the boy with that lovely hair. I slid onto the stool and turned to him, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face. He was absolutely gorgeous with lovely green eyes and a sexy squared jaw-line, wearing dark jeans and a fitted gray t-shirt. This boy deserved to be gracing the cover of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue, not sitting next to plain old me in high school Biology.

I smiled in his direction, meeting his eyes, and was shocked to see that he was scowling at me like I was a leper. Dismayed, I quickly turned away, wondering what on earth I could have done to offend this boy I'd never even met before. I discreetly checked to see if I had offensive body odor, but was only met with the light fragrance of my perfume and deodorant. I couldn't think of any reason for him to dislike me. We hadn't even been introduced yet!

Miserably, he never spoke or acknowledged me in any way during the entire class. I would occasionally glance in his direction, using the strands of hair softly falling across my face as a shield. I couldn't control the need to take in his hotness, but didn't want him to know I was visually stalking him during class. He eventually laid his head on the desk and sighed, and the moment the bell rang he was out the door at the speed of light. I grimaced, realizing that he could not get away from me fast enough.

Of course some blonde guy named Mike offered to walk me to my next class. Although I politely declined, the persistent boy kept at me by trying to persuade me to hang out with him after school at the diner. I had already tuned him out, wondering why the only boy I wanted to talk to seemed to think I was so horrible. The only explanation I could drum up was that I must look like an evil ex-girlfriend or something. I decided just to brush it off; figuring he was probably taken. I knew that someone with such unremarkable looks as myself would never have a chance with a boy that stunning anyway.

It took several days before Edward actually spoke to me. And when he did, I was shocked by how nice he was. He was so different from the scowling boy I had first encountered. He politely introduced himself and apologized for being so rude. Honestly, the moment I heard his smooth, deep voice, he was instantly forgiven.

Once we actually started talking, we couldn't seem to stop. He was extremely smart and we usually finished our biology labs long before class was over. We would spend the remainder of the time teasing each other and laughing. He never really provided too much personal information, though. I had heard from others that he was a foster kid, but I wasn't entirely sure if that was true. We tended to keep the conversation light, discussing normal teenage topics like our favorite music and books. He always put a smile on my face and it wasn't long at all before I felt myself falling for him.

Edward was shy and didn't appear to have many friends. In fact, I never really saw him hang out with anyone else. He always sat at the same table for lunch, rarely interacting with the other kids sharing his table. Instead, he walled himself off by listening to music on an old discman. I hadn't seen one of those ancient devices for years. Didn't everyone have MP3 players now? I watched him every day, stalking his every move from my table across the cafeteria. I had been tempted to join him many times, but was afraid switching tables might offend Angela and Jessica, two girls who had befriended me on my first day at Forks High. Plus, I was wary of being too forward, thus scaring Edward away. I wasn't ready for him to realize that I had a total crush on him.

In retrospect, I regretted failing to capitalize on the brief time I shared with Edward. We only had a few weeks to get to know each other before the incident at Port Angeles, and now I sadly realized that I may never have the chance to know the real Edward Masen. And the weird thing was that even after seeing him lose it, astonishingly killing three men with his bare hands, I still wanted to know him. And if I was honest with myself; I still had a crush on him.

But I wouldn't be seeing Edward today and I wasn't sure when I would have another chance to make the trip out to Edmonds. Frankly, I didn't know how many trips my old truck could actually handle, anyway. I was so angry at myself for not reading the fine print when I visited the DOC website. When I found the information regarding inmate visitation, I happened to miss the part where it said that visitors had to be approved before being cleared to meet with an inmate.

I felt my hands grip harder at the steering wheel, my face flushing with embarrassment over what had happened today when I got to the detention center:

I found a place in the visitor parking lot and made my way to the entrance, feeling a combination of nerves and excitement at the prospect of seeing Edward. I had attended almost every day of his trial and we had often smiled at each other across the room, but I hadn't actually talked to him since that night in Port Angeles. I wondered what he would think when he saw me there. Would he smile? Would he be embarrassed? I also wondered if I would be able to touch him; to give him a hug and tell him "thank you for saving my life". I was lost in my thoughts as I walked through the door and into the visitor lobby.

I went to the window to check in and gave the officer Edward's name as well as my own. He typed at the computer for a minute and wanted to know if Swan had one 'n' or two. After a while he looked up at me with a sad look on his face and announced that I wasn't on Edward's list of approved visitors, meaning that I couldn't see him until I was added to the list. My heart sank at his words. With the nervous build-up to my trip, I never had considered the possibility of not being able to see him. Why didn't I call the center first and ask questions about visiting an inmate? I could be so incredibly stupid sometimes!

I asked the officer what I needed to do to get on the approved list, and if there was any possible way to make that happen while I was here. He said that I would have to contact the inmate's lawyer to gain permission to be on the list. I explained that I had driven several hours to come here, pleading with him to call Edward to get permission. He regretfully said no; that wouldn't be allowed.

It was at this point that I realized I was crying and asked the officer if they had the lawyer's phone number on file, so I could call him. He informed me that they couldn't give out that information. He handed me a tissue and firmly told me there was no way I was going to be allowed to visit Inmate Masen today.

The officer said that my best bet would be to contact Edward's lawyer on Monday and fill out the necessary paperwork to become a registered visitor. He explained that it usually took two to three business days to be approved and then I could visit for one hour every Wednesday and/or Saturday. He also clarified that once I was approved, I could contact the inmate via mail or I could call him at designated times during the week. Apparently, since Edward was a minor, any and all correspondence with him would need to be approved by him, his lawyer, and the prison. "It's for your and the inmate's safety," he gravely explained. His words were spoken with an air of finality, urging me to take the hint and exit the premises.

I nodded at him and slowly made my way to the exit. I was totally screwed. I got back into my truck and continued sobbing until I had snot running down my face. I knew it was time for me to get a grip and return to Forks before Charlie got home. I couldn't believe that I had let my excitement over seeing Edward prevent me from taking the time to research before jumping in headfirst.

The drive back to Forks seemed to take much longer than it had this morning. I almost started crying again when I noticed the orange Reeses Peanut Butter cup wrapper poking out from my purse. I had brought the candy for Edward. He ate one cup everyday with his lunch and I figured it was unlikely that he had been allowed such a treat while being locked up in prison. I just wanted to brighten his day any way I could.

I finally made it home to Forks, characteristically rereading my favorite sections from Wuthering Heights while eating dinner. I got on the internet and completed the research I should have done earlier, carefully scanning all the rules and regulations of visiting an inmate. I couldn't remember the name of Edward's lawyer, so I googled the trial and found his name. I knew the public defender's office would be closed, but I called anyway, leaving a message for him to call me ASAP. There was really nothing more I could do until Monday arrived.

Monday couldn't come soon enough. I had spent most of Sunday in my room, depressed, but did manage to join Charlie for dinner. He tried to act like he felt guilty for leaving me all alone, but I could tell he had a great time and looked forward to going out again. Once I was on Edward's visitor list, naturally I would encourage Charlie to fish anytime. Maybe he would be up for a fishing trip to Alaska or something . . . I would have to enlist Jacob's help in getting Charlie out of my hair as much as possible.

Charlie left for work at his normal time on Monday and I was already awake, portable phone clutched in my hand. I willed the darn thing to ring but I heard nothing as I ate breakfast, folded some laundry, and sat down to watch TV. I was stretched out on the couch watching The Price is Right when finally the melodious ring tone of an unknown caller filled the air. It was a secretary at the public defender's office, who informed me that she would be happy to email me the paperwork, telling me that once I completed the forms I could mail them to their office in Port Angeles. I was bummed that I couldn't just email the forms back. Snail mail would surely just delay things by another couple of days. I reminded myself I probably wouldn't be able to attempt another visit for a while anyway, so it really didn't matter if things were delayed another day.

I ran upstairs to get on my computer, refreshing my email browser at least a hundred times before I saw a new message in my inbox. I squealed and opened it, immediately printing the application form.

Digging around in my desk drawer for an ink pen, I began completing the form. It looked pretty generic, asking about my contact information and my relationship with the inmate. "Future boyfriend," came to mind, but surprisingly that wasn't an option. I had arrived to the end of the application, my hand trembling with excitement, when I scrawled my signature. Then I read the last line, which made me sick to my stomach.

"If the applicant is under the age of 18, a parent or guardian's signature required."

It was official. I was screwed.