A/N: I wanted to get a lot of stuff in this chapter, so it's rather long. Hope you like it!

Chapter 6 - Revelations

BPOV

With every step that took me further away from him, my chest ached that much more. That was possibly the hardest thing I've ever had to do – turning and walking away from someone I was so deeply drawn to.

I hurried down the hallway, almost slipping on a spot of melted snow on the tiled floor. I knew I couldn't enter the room discreetly since there were only eight of us taking the class. Being a graduate student sometimes sucked like that.

One bright spot, was having Angela in the same class as me for the first time since we became friends. I needed to take this class, whereas it was just an elective for her because she was only minoring in English, but I was still grateful for her presence. I enjoyed attending class when I had an actually friend in it.

I slowly opened the door and entered the room, putting on my most innocent looking face and shrugging apologetically to a grimacing Dr. Mason. I slid into my seat next to Angela, who promptly twisted in her chair and slipped me a note across my desk.

I glanced down and read it.

Did you do the homework for tonight yet? If not, do you want to go to the library after we're done for the day and help each other with it?

I looked at Angela, nodding and mouthed 'library', before turning to focus on what Dr. Mason was lecturing about. Something about the Shakespearean references found throughout 'Brave New World', the current book we were reading through and dissecting.

I gave up listening as I let my mind drift to more compelling thoughts.

Edward…it wasn't exactly a popular name these days. I wondered just how many Edwards were on campus. Would it be possible to find him again? He looked as old, if not slightly older, than I was. Another grad student maybe?

He wasn't in the English masters program; there were too few people in it to not know everyone, at least by sight. I knew all the people in the English department, or at least I thought I did. He could be a new hire. But a month into the semester? Not likely. Besides, I would have heard something concerning him. He was too good-looking not to be noticed by the gossip-loving administrative assistants.

Okay, so not in any way connected to the English graduate school or department. That only left… I tried to count how many other departments there were on campus. Well, there were at least twenty-five just in the college and arts and sciences. I had no idea how many there were in business school or the school of education. And there were several other departments that I had no clue about. He could be associated with any of them.

What if he was waiting for someone? He was sitting on a bench before I ran into him. Sitting on a cold bench on a windy winter day is abnormal behavior. Most people don't stay outside longer than they have to. He might also just be visiting the campus, or visiting someone else on campus.

My heart clenched inside my chest. I quickly suppressed my despair before I had a panic attack in the middle of class.

Focus, Bella. You need to focus and stop thinking about a guy that you are never going to see again and who would never be interested in average, klutzy you.

As painful as it was to think it, it was also true. There was no point getting my hopes up on the one in a gazillion chance I would see him again.

Edward successfully banned from my thoughts, I continued on with my day, going to class and taking notes on every little thing the professors discussed. Anything to keep my mind off him.

After my last class ended, I met Angela in front of the Communications building where she had most of her classes, and we walked to the university's library. I loved this place more than any other on campus. I spent countless hours reading and writing among the musky smell of the old, but much loved books.

It was one more place I could rule Edward out as an employee or student worker, not that I was willing to admit I was still thinking about him. I knew just about everyone here, except for the third floor. I never needed to visit the third floor, which housed the fine arts related literature, media, and all the music periodicals. There were a couple of study areas up there, but I didn't like to push my luck when it came to stairs. I preferred the first floor, even it if was a little noisier than other places. I didn't mind the noise, as long as I had my iPod with me so I could tune everything else out when needed.

Angela and I spent three hours there, finishing our papers on 'Brave New World' and homework for other classes. I even got some papers graded for the freshmen Research class I oversaw as a teacher's assistant.

This was my second semester teaching this class and I loved every minute of it. I tried my best to keep the students interested in class discussions and on the assignments I gave them. They had one more class to go before picking their research paper topics, and we would spend the remainder of the semester on how to write a research paper, while I made sure they stayed on top of the deadlines I set for them.

After leaving the library, Angela and I trudged back to the apartment we shared with another roommate, Rachel, just off campus. The wind was bitterly cold and blowing so hard it was difficult to hear each other, so we simply ducked our heads and walked along in silence.

Times like this made me really miss Florida and the sunny days they enjoyed throughout the year. I spent only one year at the University of Florida as an undergrad, but I never forgot how nice it was to not have to worry about dressing warmly or snow or ice or shoveling out your car after a particularly nasty night.

My mom, Renee, was disappointed I didn't stick it out there longer, since I was only an hour and a half away from her and Phil, my stepfather.

My reasoning for leaving was sound though. I hated that my father, Charlie, was alone up here after having me live with him the last two years of high school. I felt bad leaving him because he took me in when Renee married Phil. I felt almost like I was abandoning him. The look on his face when I left for my freshman year was heartbreaking.

Shouldering that kind of guilt eventually gets to a person, and I finally broke after a year, transferring to the University of Washington to finish my undergraduate years and receive my Bachelor in Arts & Sciences with a concentration in English.

Now I was working toward my Master's in English at Shelton University. It was a smaller school than I was used to and more expensive, but I was awarded a great scholarship that allowed me the chance to come here.

I was so glad I was able to attend, because I was reunited with Angela again, after losing touch with her when we graduated from high school. Seeing her and becoming friends all over again was the highlight of this past year. It was really nice having a good girl friend again.

It was kind of embarrassing to admit, but she was my first and only real girl friend I ever had. I've always had guy friends before. Girls, for some reason, never really warmed up to me, especially in high school, except for Angela. I studied too much once I started college to really have much of a social life. I didn't feel like I missed much, and with the few experiences I had at parties, I was willing to forgo such 'excitement' for the rest of my life.

My roommate, Rachel, tended to disagree with me about this. She dragged me to several frat and social parties last semester until that fateful ATO one. She stopped bugging me to 'get out there more' after that night.

Angela and I walked up our drive and rushed inside to escape further torture from the wind. Taking off my coat and hanging in the hall closet, I was suddenly bombarded by Rachel.

"Oh my gosh, Bella! You will never guess what came for you today!" she exclaimed, bouncing up and down beside me.

I closed the closet door and turned to her.

"Is it the book from Amazon I ordered?" I guessed.

"Ha! As if I would be this excited about a book!" she laughed, shaking her head. "No, silly. You got flowers!" She beckoned me to follow her.

I quickly ran through all the possibilities of who would send me flowers. Was today's date important for some reason? It wasn't my birthday. I wasn't dying. I hadn't received any good news recently that called for flowers. Stumped, I followed Rachel down the hall, into the dining room.

Sure enough, sitting on top of the dining room table was a gorgeous bouquet of roses.

"Who sent me flowers?" I asked perplexed.

"I don't know, but they're lavender!" Rachel squealed.

"You got flowers?" Angela asked, joining me and Rachel in the dining room.

I shrugged in response and looked at Rachel.

"Why is it significant that they're lavender?"

Rachel made a noise halfway between a snort and a sigh. "Don't you know what lavender roses mean?"

"Obviously not. Why don't you tell me, since you seem to know," I replied, looking for the attached card.

"First of all," Rachel began, "they are pretty hard to find because they're one of the rarest occurring roses in nature. And they represent both caution and love at first sight. They're sent by someone who desires to get to know you better, someone who's enchanted with you."

"Someone who's enchanted with you," I repeated faintly, frowning at the confusing flowers. "Are you sure they're for me?" I asked Rachel, seeing the card and grabbing it from under the large green ribbon tied around the vase.

"What does it say?" Rachel demanded, going back to bouncing up and down.

"Bella, please accept these roses as my apology for making you late to class and as a promise that I will make it up to you. Edward Cullen." I read out loud. There was no way it was the same guy. It had to be a joke.

"Who's Edward Cullen? Why haven't I heard about him before now?" Rachel asked, pouting.

"Is he the guy you ran down this morning?" Angela asked me.

"Yes, I guess it is," I confirmed.

Rachel snapped her fingers in my direction. "You didn't answer my question. Who's Edward Cullen?"

"It would seem Edward Cullen is the guy I ran into this morning on my way to class. I don't see how that clumsy encounter could justify him buying me flowers and promising to make it up to me," I explained, using air quotes around 'make it up to me'.

"How did he know where you lived?" Angela asked slowly, sitting down at the dining room table.

"Good question," I said, plopping down in a chair beside her.

"Stalker?" Rachel asked brightly, joining us at the table.

"But I just met him today."

"That you know of," Rachel pointed out.

I grimaced.

"Maybe he knew you from somewhere else. He could have found your address on Facebook," Angela suggested lightly.

"No, I don't have a Facebook account anymore. Not after…the 'incident'," I reminded her, shaking my head.

"Well, what about the university's directory?" Rachel countered. "I'm pretty sure they put your address on there."

"They do?" I spit out, flabbergasted. How did I not know that? I wondered if you could option out of it.

"But wouldn't he need to know Bella's last name to find it?" Angela asked.

"I only introduced myself as Bella," I said gravely, already convinced that he knew me somehow, and I had a sinking suspicion I knew where from. As easy as it was to find out someone's name and address, I usually took extra cautious steps when it came to using my full name or my Seattle address.

"So, he has to know you from somewhere. That's the only thing that makes sense," Rachel said, content in her explanation.

Angela and I nodded in agreement.

Rachel got up from the table and went out the dining room archway, heading toward her bedroom, humming a song under her breath that I couldn't quite place.

I turned to Angela once she got out of earshot.

"Where do you think he might know me from? And don't say that frat party," I warned her.

She shrugged. "I don't know. You are kind of a mini-celebrity from that party and – "

"Stop," I said, cutting her off. Sighing, I sank my head down onto my arms.

"I wouldn't worry about it so much," Angela said softly, leaving the room and me alone to my thoughts.

Somehow the guy had found out my name and address. I didn't know how, but I swore to find out.

Just then Rachel ran back into the room, jumping up and down beside me. I lifted my head and stared at her quizzically.

"Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh," she exclaimed, running her words together.

"Rachel! Please stop jumping and tell me what has you so excited this time," I said evenly, in what I hoped was a calming tone. I loved Rachel to death, but sometimes she was a total cheerleader.

"I found him! I found Edward Cullen," she shrieked, racing out of the room and into her bedroom.

"What?" I asked in disbelief, chasing after her.

She stood in front of her computer, pointing at the screen. "See? He works in the music department, and is a complete hottie, judging from his picture," Rachel added as I sat down in the chair in front of her computer, stunned and looking at what was on the screen.

"Edward Cullen, assistant professor of piano," I read out loud, studying his picture. "That's him."

"Oh my gosh! This is too much. You are so lucky…" Rachel droned on until I tuned her completely out.

So, he was a teacher in the music department. That explains why I never saw him before – the Fine Arts & Music building was across campus from my usual hang out spots. I never had a reason to go that way unless I wanted to work out at the Student Life Center. However, that particular desire never hit me, thank goodness. I stared at his picture, remembering his intense green eyes and dazzling lopsided smile.

How did you find me, Edward Cullen? Are you a stalker like Rachel suggested or just incredibly lucky? Do you know me from somewhere? I asked the picture, and then thought longingly, am I ever going to see you again?

The next morning I awoke, even more confused about how Edward found me thing and very tired from a fitful night of tossing and turning. I forced myself to stop thinking about him and get ready for the day. After showering and dressing, I went to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast.

"Morning, Bella," Rachel called out as she walked past me, back to her bedroom.

"Morning," I said, still slightly incoherent. I am not a morning person.

I grabbed a package of pop-tarts and forced one into the toaster. This was the worst part of being impatient, waiting for the pop-tart to toast. I could always microwave it, but really, four seconds in the microwave seemed ridiculous to me.

Against my will, my thoughts wandered back to Edward. I wondered if I would see him today. Since he knew where I lived, maybe he knew my schedule as well. Of course, I was insane to think that he would know my schedule. That would just prove Rachel's theory that he was a stalker. Besides, those flowers were only a friendly gesture. Gentlemanly, even. They didn't mean that he was going to actually track me down and make it up to me.

"Stop it," I whispered.

"What was that?" Angela asked, suddenly entering the kitchen area.

"Huh? Oh, just running through some numbers in my head," I lied, badly.

"Hmm," Angela mumbled, more to herself than to me.

I shrugged, even though Angela was turned away from me, fixing her own breakfast now. I always said I was doing something math related in my head when Angela caught me talking to myself. I had no idea why she believed me; I loathed all forms of math and had no real reason to do any of it. But it seemed like the sort of thing I might do, practical as I was, and Angela had never questioned it.

Every now and then I mumbled a number, just to make it seem more authentic.

The toaster popped up to announce my pop-tart was done. I grabbed it, said a quick good-bye to Angela, and headed out the front door, on my way to my first class.

I loved Tuesdays and Thursdays because they were the days I got to student teach twenty-one rowdy freshmen. Getting them interested in the fundamentals of English was tricky and taxing, but I enjoyed every second of it.

I was especially excited about today's class because I planned it around slang and urban words found in popular music, looking at how certain words used today were originally intended to mean something completely different.

I asked my students to each pick a song I from a list and see if they could figure out what word, or words, had evolved over the years. We were going to listen through each song in class and then discuss their findings.

I did something similar last semester with another class and found it to be fun and enlightening for both me and the students. It was a nice reprieve from lectures and gave them something to actively participate in, which made my job much easier.

I made sure to arrive at my classroom earlier than usual to have plenty of time to set up the equipment we would need that day. I settled into the chair in front of the instructor's desk in the front corner of the room, and turned on the computer, tapping my fingers on the desk while it booted up. My mind automatically slipped back to Edward the second nothing held my attention.

I wondered again if I would see him soon. As unnerving as it was to me that he knew where I lived, I couldn't work up the necessary emotions to be afraid of him, or believe that he would do me harm.

"Charlie would be so disappointed in me," I whispered aloud, staring at the boot-up screen.

"Who's Charlie?" a velvety voice asked from behind me.

I jumped and spun the chair around toward the voice.

Edward lounged in the doorway. His feet were crossed at the ankle, his arms crossed across his chest. A lock of auburn hair had fallen over his eye, and I itched to brush it away. A mischievous grin played at his incredibly sexy mouth. His face was absurdly beautiful. He could have been the model for the 'David.'

I licked my suddenly dry lips. Edward's face tightened and his eyes darkened a deeper shade of green.

"What are you doing here?" I asked shakily, ignoring the bigger question of 'how did you find me.'

"Looking for you," he replied playfully.

"Well, you found me," I said, standing. I wanted to put us on equal ground because I felt too vulnerable sitting while he stood.

"Did you get my flowers?" he asked, uncrossing his arms and ankles, but remaining inside the doorframe. He looked slightly uncomfortable.

How strange.

"Yes, I did. I wanted to thank you for them, but had no way to contact you. Strange that," I commented, stepping toward him to stand behind the table located at the front of the classroom.

"What?" he asked, crossing the room's threshold and circling the table until he stood in front of me, using the table as a buffer between us.

"You seem to know where I live" – I paused – "and my schedule, yet I recall only meeting you yesterday. How do you explain that?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral.

He actually looked ashamed, averting his eyes and grimacing. "Caught that, did you?"

I didn't answer him, I just stared, crossing my arms over my chest. Did he think I was a moron who wouldn't piece that together? I felt insulted.

"How do you think I got that information?" he asked, dodging my initial question.

"My friend thinks you're a stalker."

"Huh," he breathed.

I stared at him, puzzled. He didn't refute being a stalker. Was he a stalker?

"Are you a stalker?" I asked hastily, unbelieving and hoping he would deny it.

"Um…not technically."

"Excuse me?" I exclaimed, my voice raising an octave. My mind raced through different self-defense techniques Charlie had taught me over the years. Could I overpower him if it came down to it? I eyed him, trying to size him up.

He held up his hands, to either protect himself or to stop me from fleeing, I couldn't tell. "Now, hold on a second. I'm not a stalker. I just wanted to see you again," he said in a rush, his eyes wide and persuasive.

"What does that mean? Are you a Patrick Bateman?" I asked suspiciously.

"Patrick Bateman?" he repeated.

"American Psycho. Christian Bale plays the lead character, Patrick Bateman, who is a good-looking, charming yuppie that works in Wall Street. But it turns out he's insane and violently kills all these people. It's a rather disgusting movie," I explained.

"Uh, no. I'm not a Patrick Bateman," he said slowly, then sighed. "It seems I need to come clean."

"You think?" I mumbled under my breath.

A corner of his mouth lifted, indicating he heard me.

"Your friend dropped Dr. Mason's name yesterday and I know him. So I asked about you during his office hours and he told me that you TAed a freshmen English class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Finding your address was easy once I had your last name," he confessed in one breath.

I was stunned, kicking myself for missing that crucial detail yesterday. 'Oh' was all I could muster in answer.

"So, did you like them?" he asked, smirking, obviously happy to have the upper hand over me once again.

"Like what?" I asked, still slightly dazed.

"The roses. Did you like the roses?"

"Yes," I answered in a rush. "Yes, I did."

"Good. Now about the 'making it up to you' part, I was thinking I could take you out to dinner tonight," he suggested, placing his hands flat on the table and leaning toward me.

"I can't tonight," I replied apologetically.

"Why not?"

"I have a lecture to attend tonight, something for class."

"Okay…what about tomorrow?" he countered, seeming very determined.

I sighed. This couldn't possibly be happening. There was no way he actually liked me, or wanted to take me out. It had to be a pity date and I knew I couldn't take it if I did agree to go with him.

"No," I said quietly, nearly choking on the word. "I'm sorry. Your offer is tempting, but I must decline."

"You must decline?" he repeated teasingly, half-smiling.

I dropped my gaze down to the tabletop and blushed. I couldn't believe he would make fun of me at this moment. It was hard enough to reject his offer, even though I knew it was made out of kindness, rather than interest.

I felt the heat of his fingertips brush my shoulder through my shirt, then my throat, until he found the side of my face and curved his palm against my cheek. My eyes shot up to his in shock. The feeling of his hand on my skin was amazing. Little electric sparks shot through my body.

All thoughts flew out of my head. I could only concentrate on his hand against my cheek. I resisted the urge to lean into him, knowing it would only embarrass me further. What was he playing at?

"Please agree to go to dinner with me," he pleaded, staring deep into my eyes.

"I, I – um," I faltered, and then swallowed loudly. Slowly I closed my eyes, unable to take his gaze a second longer.

"Why?" I whispered.

"Because I want to the chance to talk to you, to watch you enjoy your favorite glass of wine, and to have the opportunity to see this blush again," he answered softly, stroking my cheek.

I opened my eyes again and met his, trying to find any hint of deception. When I was satisfied that he was telling the truth, I nodded. "Yes, okay. I'll go."

Edward flashed a crooked smile so beautiful that I could only stare at him like an idiot. He was blindingly beautiful, and I was ruined. No one would ever be as breathtaking as he was in this moment.

My heart pounded inside my chest.

He leaned in closer, his face and his mouth – surely the most tantalizing mouth I had ever seen, full-lipped and wide and promising – was so close that I felt his breath touch my cheek.

"Thank you," he whispered. "You won't regret it." He pulled back across the table and dropped his hand. "I'll pick you up at 7, okay?"

"Okay," I squeaked out in agreement.

He backed out of the room, his eyes never leaving mine until he reached the open doorway. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Then he was gone.

My knees gave out on me and I somehow managed to sit on top of the table instead of falling to the ground. I realized I was panting and unable to catch my breath. Quickly taking in several deep breaths, I fought to control my thoughts and raging hormones before my students started showing up.

I was in trouble. I knew it the moment I saw him yesterday. I couldn't bring myself to accept the obvious – he wasn't interested in me. There was no chance in hell that he was interested in me. But, for whatever reason, my heart refused to accept it.

Damn him and his stupid unearthly beauty. I need a new dress.