A/N: Dudes. Please go read my collaborative one-shot entitled "Ink in the Blood" co-written with my long distance lover, maniacalmuse. It's under the author name Dirty Words and it was written for the Tattward and Inkella contest. Please, please go read it! It's a lot of hard work collaborating and we'd love your support:)

Also, I would like to thank my beta Adrena because I totally rewrote practically this entire chapter, completely changing the course from the previous version. I hope this new version is better than the last, but I feel confident that it is:)

Music suggestions: "Deadship, Darkship" by Sorry About Dresden, "The Closest Thing" by The Juliana Theory, "Maybe Not" by Cat Power, and "The End of Heartache" by Killswitch Engage.

BPOV

My alarm beeped annoyingly from my cell phone and I rolled over, groaning pitifully. The dirty dishwater gray of early morning sunshine breached the thick curtains covering the window next to my bed. I reached for my phone and turned the alarm off before reluctantly crawling out of my comfortable nest of blankets and pillows. I needed to get my ass in gear if I was going to make it to the airport on time for the DC trip.

I rubbed the sleep grime from my eyes as I shuffled across the cold wooden floorboards to my bedroom door. It creaked loudly as I opened it and I wondered briefly if I would wake Charlie, or if he was even here.

He'd been spending an increasing amount of time at Billy's...that is, when he wasn't at the bar.

I missed him.

Naturally, I was my father's daughter. I'd learned to ignore my feelings or not speak about them in favor of keeping the peace. I must have picked up that dubious talent from years of Charlie trying to appease my mother.

The thing was, I'd never been very good at talking about the things that were bothering me. I also sucked at actually identifying those feelings. How would I know how to do such complicated things when my parents had taught me to just sweep everything under a rug my entire life?

I wanted so much not to be angry anymore. I hated feeling this way all the time. I felt like no matter what I did, I fucked up everything. Sure, my parents' divorce wasn't my fault, but the guilty feeling that they wouldn't have been miserable together for over twenty years if it hadn't been for me still lingered.

And Edward. It was so clear to me that none of my anger should have been directed at him. I'd spent the last week thinking a lot about the subtle changes in the dynamics of our relationship, and I'd had to force myself to recognize some very difficult things.

For one thing, I had been incredibly hard on Edward. With all the passion I'd poured into my beliefs, I'd turned against him because he was an easy target. I realized that now. Something in me had recognized my attraction to him before I'd even known he was Tony Masen of OCS fame, and the only thing I could think now was that it was some twisted defensive instinct to "protect" myself from being attracted to someone so different from myself.

I mean, how could I possibly have anything in common with Edward Cullen, aside from a passion for politics?

At least, that's what I'd told myself from the very beginning. But that was before I'd known he was also Tony Masen, the vegan and animal rights activist. After that, my heart and my mind were extremely confused and I had to admit to myself that I'd been a huge mess ever since I'd discovered his little secret.

As I'd tossed and turned in bed last night, I relived every interaction we'd had since that first day of class. I couldn't say how many times I winced or flushed in embarrassment over my actions and reactions toward him. It was clear to me how awful I'd treated him. I squirmed uncomfortably even now, recalling the times I'd yelled at him for being a hypocrite.

If anyone here was the hypocrite, it was me. After our last debate in the empty classroom, I couldn't deny that he had some very valid points. Still, it was none of my business what he believed...

But I did care. I was beginning to understand where the two parts of him met, but I was still confused and I found that I needed to know more. I needed to get inside his head, pick his brain, find those connections and find a way to relate.

The night was long and difficult, but by the time I'd finally fallen asleep, I had been able to admit something to myself that I had tried so hard to ignore: I cared for Edward. A great deal.

But what could I do about that now? I was amazed he'd even give me the time of day, let alone be as good to me as he had been the last few times we'd met. He must have the patience of a saint, and be incredibly forgiving on top of that.

I roused myself from my thoughts long enough to take a bracing shower. Following that, I gave my hair a quick dry with the hair dryer and slapped on just enough make up to make me look like I was alive. I examined myself critically in the mirror, trying to see the changes I felt inside reflected in my eyes.

For just a moment, I thought I saw the wisp of someone older and wiser. I wanted to believe that I was learning from my mistakes, and that I wouldn't make the same mistakes my parents had. I just wanted to learn from my past behavior so I could move on and become a better person.

It was time to step outside of my own little world and realize that harsh things happened, but that didn't mean it needed to destroy me or dictate my entire life. I refused to allow Renee's excruciating admissions to ruin my life. I didn't want to follow in her footsteps, blaming others for the choices I'd made and taking out my own shortcomings on them.

I could be better than that, I would be better than that.

The memory of last weekend in Eastern Washington drifted across my mind as I stared at myself. I remembered the dry sun beating down on my skin, the smell of sweat, skin, and coconut as I'd rubbed the sunscreen into Edward's back...I thought of the sense of hope I'd had, looking up at him. If I had only been a better person, I might have been worthy of someone like him.

But I had to prepare myself for the idea that I'd lost any chance I might have had with him after being such a stone cold bitch to him.

Still, there had been something in his eyes that day after I finished helping him with the lotion. Something that made me feel like maybe...just maybe...I could make something good with him.

Edward had taken the blame for his actions the night of the show with a stiff upper lip and a gracious apology. I could take a page from his book and begin to own up to my own mistakes and transgressions against him. I hoped that he'd listen, but something told me he would. For that, I was glad.

Edward probably thought my attitude stemmed from Renee leaving. I would have to reach deep down inside myself to be able to admit to him what I had admitted to myself: that I'd had issues seeing myself clearly, let alone other people.

I could see now that my paranoid mind had created a picture of Edward "infiltrating" my scene with OCS as a way to make fools out of all of us. As if he would one day walk onstage and have a great laugh at my expense, revealing his "true" identity and making us all feel like assholes.

Even after that (now) laughable scenario had passed out of my consciousness, I still wondered how he could possibly take our scene seriously while being this entire other person I'd come to know in poli sci class. I had trouble trying to reconcile the fact that he could be both people at the same time.

Hell, I was still confused on that issue. Even if what he'd said about it the last time made sense to me, it still seemed as if he treated Tony Masen as some secret alter-ego.

If I knew anything about anything, I'd learned from my mother that you can't live a lie forever.

So my question was: which side of Edward was a lie?

About five hours later, our flight was called and people were allowed to begin boarding. I hefted my carry-on over my shoulder and handed my boarding pass to the attendant at the gate. She checked it, handed it back, and I walked down the ramp and into the plane, smiling politely at the happy faces of the crew as I passed.

I found my seat and sat down, sighing as my tired body sank into the unforgiving cushions. I closed my eyes to try and take a nap when I heard someone clear their throat and ask, "Mind if I slip past you?"

Recognizing his voice, my eyes immediately shot open and found his. "Edward? What are you doing here?"

He grinned and held up his carry-on. It was his suitcase, of course. I snorted and lifted my legs into my seat so he could pass me to get to the window seat. As he got settled, I took in his appearance.

He looked tired. He had bags under his eyes and a slight frown between his eyebrows. He was wearing a black long-sleeved button up shirt with a white t-shirt underneath, and black slacks and shoes. His shoes were shiny wingtips, and I wondered for the millionth time why he felt the need to dress like he was some executive instead of a student.

I found that today, I was willing to fully admit to myself just how hot he looked. Black had always been my favorite color, and boy, did it look good on him.

I realized he still hadn't told me why he was suddenly here. I cleared my throat and pushed the thoughts of dragging his ass to the bathroom so I could join the Mile High Club out of my mind. "So?" I asked expectantly.

Edward seemed to snap out of his thoughts and turned to me with a confused look on his face. "So, what?" he asked.

I smirked. "So why are you here? Are you going on the trip after all?"

He looked like he wasn't quite awake yet. "Um, yeah. Yes, I'm going on the trip."

Suddenly, I remembered why he shouldn't be here. "Wait, what about Bumbershoot?" I asked.

He turned his gaze to the window, but not before I caught sight of a flash of...something...in his eyes. "We canceled. I...had some things to work out, so we decided not to play. Luckily, that meant I could go on the trip. I think it'll be fun, don't you?" he asked, turning back with an expression of false excitement on his face.

I decided, for once, to keep my thoughts to myself. I didn't want to alienate him so soon after realizing my true feelings for him. "Yeah, sure," I replied unconvincingly.

I briefly wondered if now would be a good time to apologize to him. The plane was packed, but most people would pay attention to their own business. Still, if my apology ended up going awry, it could make for a very uncomfortable flight seeing as how we were stuck with each other until we landed.

The airplane ride would take about four and a half hours according to the pilot, and I was suddenly aware that I would be spending every minute wishing I could go back in time and change everything about the way I'd treated him.

Great.

After take-off, I sat there awkwardly trying to drum up a non-inflammatory subject to discuss. The best I could come up with was, "I hope the weather isn't too horrible."

Awesome job at not sounding like a complete dipshit.

Edward turned to face me and I noted the dark circles under his eyes. He definitely looked more tired and downtrodden than he had when I'd seen him at Warped Tour. I felt my concern overtake my better judgment, and I found myself impulsively asking, "Are you okay?"

He looked slightly taken aback at my question and I felt the now-familiar shame burning in my cheeks as I realized that I'd been completely blind to his well-being before now.

"Oh...uh, yeah, I'm fine," he replied, shifting in his seat uncomfortably.

I bit my tongue once more and looked down at the book I'd brought out of my bag a couple moments before. I wasn't sure I believed him, but I also didn't want to call him out on it. "Okay, if you say so. But...I just want you to know that I really appreciated it when you let me talk, so if you need..." I trailed off, feeling useless.

His shoulders tensed but he gave me a tight smile in acknowledgment. "Thanks."

I saw him look down at the book in my lap and I held it up for him to see the cover. "Have you read The Way We Eat before?" I asked, hoping this would be a better topic for conversation.

Edward reached out to take the book and examine the cover, and I swallowed back the feeling of excitement that zipped through my veins. I felt like I was finally going to get my chance to discuss veganism with Tony Masen the way I'd always dreamed of doing.

"Actually, I haven't read this one yet. Is it good?" he inquired with interest.

I nodded and started going on about the book. "They go to hang out with these three different families and examine what they eat, where it comes from, and how it impacts their lives and the world around them. There's a family who shops at Wal-Mart and eats a standard American diet, an omnivore family who tries to eat all organic and free-range, and then a vegan family who tries to buy most of their produce from organic and local sources. It's really interesting, because they look at it very compassionately."

Edward hummed and considered this. "Do they tout veganism as the only way to live?"

I shook my head. "Not necessarily. I actually really liked the fact that they talked about how the first family was trying to make good choices for themselves in light of their financial constraints. The guys writing the book weren't judgmental or rude."

His eyes met mine and I knew that he was searching my eyes for something. "I've found that more people are willing to learn about veganism when it's not in their face in a threatening or condescending way," he stated simply.

I thought about his words. I'd spent most of my high school years "fighting the man" and being in people's faces. I was singled out as a freak because I was different from most of the people at my school, and I'd hated it. I reacted by going on the offensive anytime someone started teasing me about my diet and lifestyle.

But Edward's way seemed better. His demeanor was calm and knowledgeable, while mine had always been forceful and outspoken. He was active in the animal rights movement, but I couldn't see him doing any of the things that the more aggressive activists did, like spraying fur coats with red paint or attacking the research scientists who test on animals.

Why could I see Edward as reasonable and calm about veganism, but somehow still believe that he would be a crazy Republican Christian who planted pipe bombs at Planned Parenthoods? Was it because I agreed with him on veganism and wholeheartedly disagreed with him on his political and religious beliefs?

I surely was a hypocrite if I could ask for acceptance and respect from others who weren't like me, and yet do nothing but judge and criticize those who were different.

It occurred to me that I needed to open my mind to our differences and give myself the chance to get to know all of him, not just the parts I liked. If I ever wanted to have him in my life in any way other than with animosity or awkward small talk, then I would have to learn how to accept and embrace all of him.

I realized I hadn't replied to Edward. He was looking at me expectantly and I was just sitting there mulling over things in my own mind. I cleared my throat and took the book back from him. "I'm beginning to see that I agree with you on that," I replied finally.

We lapsed into silence and soon Edward fell asleep. I grabbed my iPod and put some music on before I went back to my book.

About an hour later, I fell asleep too.

EPOV

I woke up with someone's head on my shoulder. When I looked down, I saw Bella's face was relaxed and her mouth was slightly open. The strain around her eyes was gone, and she looked peaceful in her slumber. One side of her headphones had fallen out of her ear, so I lifted it to my ear and listened to the music she was playing.

I smiled when I recognized my voice coming through the ear piece. I reached over and gently pried her iPod from her slack hand so I could search through her music. I was pleasantly surprised to find that she had almost every OCS song ever recorded. I was flattered, really.

She shifted and I put her iPod back in her hand before turning to look out the window. I didn't want to disturb her sleep.

Bella slept for the rest of the flight and I started reading her book after it fell from her hands. She was right, it was good. I'd have to pick up a copy next time I was at the book store.

We got to the hotel and checked in, and I wasn't surprised to find that my room was right next to Bella's. I went in and put my stuff away before calling Alice to let her know I was here. She wanted to see me, but I knew it was mostly due to the fact that she missed Jasper. I couldn't fault her from her homesickness, especially now that she and Jasper were practically engaged.

I didn't see Bella as I left the hotel to meet Alice at a diner a few blocks away. The light was dwindling outside and I had no trouble finding the place where we were meeting. When I walked in, I found Alice drinking a cup of coffee and looking out the window. The air outside was steamy and my shirt was stuck to my back after the short walk.

I walked over to her and she jumped up to hug me tightly. She looked stressed and lonely, and I felt sorry for her. It must be terribly hard for her to be away from Jasper for so long, especially since I knew she had a strained relationship with her father and new stepmother.

"Hey, you. How are you?" I asked as she released me and sat back down.

Alice pouted and sipped her coffee in an effort to hide her expression. "I'm okay. How are you?"

I motioned for a glass of water and a cup of coffee when a waitress passed and then turned back to her. "Honestly, I've been better, but whatever," I replied with a dismissive wave of my hand.

"Oh, please. I would rather talk about you than discuss my own pathetic crap. I'm so sick of being here, you know?" she said grumpily.

I nodded and sighed. "Okay, then. Can I tell you something?" I asked. She looked up at me with interest. "It's really not a big deal, but it's been bothering me and I can't really see myself telling the guys about it."

She set her cup down and crossed her arms across the table. "Go on," she invited.

I told her about the situation with Bella and the feelings that I'd been experiencing. "It's like, sometimes I wanna strangle her, but sometimes I don't know. Sometimes she looks at me like she wants me, and I want her too."

Alice's expression turned shrewd. "So you're attracted to her?"

I nodded and toyed with the spoon next to my coffee. She pursed her lips and appeared to be deep in thought. "Well, that's completely human of you, but on the other hand...you haven't been with anyone since before your mom's death, and is this really the direction you want to go? I mean, I'm sure underneath everything, she's a nice girl...but she doesn't share all of your beliefs, and that could be a problem, you know?"

I knew what she was getting at. I scrubbed a hand over my face and looked everywhere but at her face. "This wouldn't be like Jessica, Alice. That was a stupid thing that happened when I was young and foolish. Besides, I'm not saying I'm going to go have sex with her," I reminded her.

She snorted and took a sip of her coffee. "It's hard to be a Christian in a relationship with a non-Christian. Believe me, I would know. Before I joined the church, I was in a relationship with this guy, James. We'd been together for a while, but after I was baptized, we just fell apart. He didn't understand me or my choices, and it got to be very difficult to see eye-to-eye with him."

"Alice, I know what you're trying to say, but honestly...it's not even like that. I already know that I'll have to settle for being friends with her. She'll probably never be able to accept or understand my beliefs. Being with her would be one huge mess; I know this."

I found it hard to explain to Alice that I felt like it was my mission to be close to Bella and help her through the things she was going through. I had faith that I could do that if I could just ignore the attraction I felt for her.

We sat in silence for a few minutes and I turned to stare out the window. Across the street was a bar and I watched as the patrons walked in completely sober and reasonable, only to stumble out inebriated and foolish. I shook my head as I wondered what the draw was to losing control of yourself and your surroundings.

"There's something else bothering you, tough guy. I can see it," Alice pressed.

I stared down into my coffee cup and thought about everything that was going on with my father and me. "I don't really want to talk about it," I replied in a guarded tone.

She sighed heavily and laid her warm, steady hand on top of my cold and clammy one. "Who can you talk to, if you can't talk to me? I know you haven't told any of the guys what's going on, and they're just as confused over your behavior as I am. You've been acting so strange, Edward. We're your friends, we love you, and we just want to help. Tell me what's been going on," she coaxed softly.

My eyes met her worried stare and I felt my shoulders slump in defeat. She was right, I needed to talk about this. "It's just all so messed up. My dad won't even look at me unless I'm in his way. He only speaks to me when he has to, and he's always gone these days. I never thought this would happen after my mom died...I never thought he'd leave me, too."

Alice turned my hand over and gripped it so that we were palm-to-palm. "Tell me about it," she invited with deep compassion in her voice.

I stared down at the green and gray flecks in the Formica tabletop. "He wants me to be this person that I'm not. I'm trying so hard to make him happy so that he will smile at me like he used to, before... Well, it's not working. I can't be what he wants me to be and be who I want to be at the same time. It hasn't changed a thing. Either I let go of the band, the music, the activism...or I have to let go of my father."

My confidant was silent for a few moments, digesting my words. "Have you talked to him about this?"

I banged my fist down on the tabletop. "Don't you think I've tried? All he wants is a perfect son, Alice! He wants me to throw myself into this life of pure politics and religion. He wants me to be a lawyer, a senator, a supreme court judge. He wants me to get my tattoos removed, stop playing my music, and start eating meat because it's 'normal.'"

Alice flinched at my tone and retracted her hand. I gripped mine uselessly around the edge of the table and seethed. "I am a Christian. I go to church, I pray, I perform good deeds and try every day to be a good person that I hope God can be proud of. I'm a Republican. I vote, I go to rallies, I follow the news and run my radio show. Why can't that be enough? Why can't he just be proud of me?"

Her sad blue eyes were on mine as she reached out to cup my cheek. "He's lost, Edward. Ever since your mom died, he's been terrified and lost. He doesn't know this other part of you, because he's scared to. You have to show him. You have to show him so that he'll understand that you can be everything that you are without compromising either side of yourself," she said.

I turned to stare out the window. "Can I?" I asked quietly.

"Can you be Edward and Tony?" she clarified.

I nodded and clenched my jaw against my pain in my chest.

"Well, I think you can. So do the guys. The only one here who needs convincing is you."

BPOV

I hung up my phone and dropped it on the bedspread. I couldn't find my father, once again. I knew he was probably at the bar down the street from our house, likely drowning in booze and hoping that his inconvenient life would just drift away and leave him alone with the bottle.

Well, fuck that. I scooped up my phone with renewed determination and dialed 411 to ask for the bar's information. I hit the key to connect me and listened while the phone rang on the other end. Finally, someone picked up.

"Fred's," answered a disinterested voice, almost drowned out by the boisterous noise I could hear in the background.

"I'm looking for Chief Swan," I told him.

"Just a sec," he replied distractedly. There was some shouting in the background and waited until I heard the crackle of the phone passing hands.

"Hello?" slurred my father.

I felt the sick twist of anger and despair stab me in the gut. "Daddy?" My voice warbled like a little girl with a skinned knee.

There was a pause. "Bella? Wh'sup?" he asked, sounding confused.

I swallowed back the bile threatening to claw up the back of my throat. "Why are you doing this to yourself, daddy? Why are you doing this to me? To us?" I pleaded, wishing he could magically make it all better, just as he had when I'd go running to him with the bumps and bruises in childhood.

He was silent and I heard only his heavy breathing. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I...I can't talk about this now, Bells. I'll talk to you when I get home."

The tears began to choke me as I struggled to get through to him. "Do you even know what day of the week it is? I'm not there, dad! I'm all the way across the country, sitting in a hotel room, thinking about how much I love you and how I can't stand to think of you wasting your fucking life away in a bottle just because that useless bitch left us!"

His breath shuddered and broke. "Bella, don't talk about your mother like that!"

My rage broke over me and I stood up on shaky legs as I yelled into the phone, "My mother apparently never gave a shit! You made her stay when she wanted to go!"

"Bella-" he began.

I cut him off. I didn't want to hear his excuses. "Whatever, dad. Drink yourself into another stupor. I'll be home on Monday, not that you'll notice." I clicked off my phone and tossed it on the bed. The sick feeling in my stomach had transformed into stabbing shards of agony, and I didn't have a clue what to do about it.

I looked around my empty hotel room and felt equally empty inside. The night was dark and pressing against the window. I walked over and stared outside, down to the street were people were walking with each other, having fun on a Friday night.

My friends knew about Renee, and they knew about Charlie. They obviously knew I was a mess, but they kept me together. Leah and Jake, Emily and Sam....they were there for me.

But they weren't here right now, and while I knew I needed them, knew I should call one of them and reach out, I just couldn't do it. I was sick of feeling so needy for their support.

With that, I made up my mind...and I knew I would regret it, but at the moment, I just couldn't bring myself to care. I was going to do this, and fuck the consequences.

Sometimes, I just wanted to do the wrong thing on purpose. I wanted to make a bad fucking judgment call and wallow in it.

I found my key card to the hotel room and slipped it into my pocket before I grabbed my purse and headed out the door, ready to let the dark night take me deep.

The bar a couple blocks from the hotel was crowded with overly confident males and the overdone women they were trying to pick up. Thankfully, I flew under the radar because I wasn't dressed for seduction in my black jeans and black hoodie with the white skulls decorating it. My choppy hair was too short and messy to be cute, and my eyes were swollen and red from crying.

Add to that the utter exhaustion, both physical and emotional, covering my face and I was sure to be exuding a big fat "fuck off" to anyone who'd even think of approaching me.

I sat on the only empty stool at the bar and waited until the bartender found me. "What can I get you?" he asked. His name tag read Tony and it made me snort. Great.

I thought for a moment, frozen in indecision. Was I really going to do this? Was I going to break my edge, here and now?

Tony the bartender looked at me expectantly, and I braced my hands on the scarred edges of the bar top. "Jack Daniels," I told him, recalling the empty bottles littering the coffee table at home.

"A shot or mixed?" he asked.

"A shot, please." He nodded once and turned to walk away, but I reached out and grabbed his arm. "Wait, make that two, please."

He grabbed the bottle and nimbly set two shot glasses in front of me. I'd never tasted alcohol before. My heart was pounding with fear at what I was about to do, and my mind kept screaming at me to walk away before I did this thing.

He finished pouring the shots and slid them over to me. I paid him and tentatively gripped the first glass in my hand. The liquid was a pretty amber color, but when I sniffed it, the scent burned my nose in an unpleasant way. I'd never understand how people could drink this.

Before I could back down, I tossed the shot back and held my breath until I'd swallowed it all down. I tasted the bitter, disgusting flavor coat my tongue and shuddered as the heat blasted its way through my body. I quivered and my face scrunched up in distaste.

I still had another shot to go.

I gripped the glass and stared down at it, hoping in vain to find the draw of this vile stuff. Did it make my dad feel better? Could it really erase the pain? Was this some magical tonic that came along and fixed everything?

I doubted it. People drank for all kinds of reasons: to get relaxed, to get stupid, to get laid.

What did I want?

I wanted to get lost. I wanted to let my head swim until I felt numb and I wanted to stop crying myself to sleep, because my tears had done nothing to make me forget.

Without another thought, I tossed back the second shot and clenched my eyes shut against the devastating burn.

The second glass was empty, and I was sitting there staring at it, still feeling empty. I felt cynical laughter bubble forth from my chest when I realized I wasn't even a "glass is half empty" person, but rather a "glass is just empty" person. In that moment, I could not find one positive thought swirling in my mind.

I'd thought that I wasn't going to feel anything from two tiny shots, but I was wrong. Soon my cheeks began to warm and my vision got a little blurry. I wasn't drunk, but I wasn't sober, either. When the bartender came back to see if I needed anything, I shook my head and felt my reflexes moving slower than normal.

I wisely decided to call it a night and headed back for the hotel, walking slowly and trying to deal with what I had just done.

All through high school, I'd been labeled a freak by the people around me because I didn't like to drink and get high like most of the kids my age. They would taunt and tease me, making me so angry at times that I would go home and cry out my frustration. None of them ever understood how I could have a good time without being wasted, so they constantly baited me until I lost my temper and told them to fuck off.

That was the beginning of my offensive attitude toward people like Edward. Well, toward the kind of people I'd thought Edward to be like. I'd developed my defenses too well, becoming a snide bitch to keep people from talking to me, because I'd come to expect them to attack me for being different.

It was only with my true friends that I ever felt like I could let my defenses down and show my true self. I could be thoughtful, funny, and even charming when I was around the people who knew me. It was a shame that I couldn't just be myself all the time, but such was life.

If that wasn't pathetic, then I didn't know what was. Looking back, I felt like a complete idiot for losing out on people I could have known, because there were plenty of people who chose to party but never got in my face about it.

Instead, I'd gotten into their faces about it, and because of it, I'd been labeled "That Vegan Straight-Edge Bitch With Headphones."

That was me. I'm sure if our high school had had one of those "Most likely to..." awards in the yearbook, mine might have read, "Most likely to die alone because everyone thinks she's a bitch."

I could feel my carefully constructed walls starting to crack all around me. I was Humpty Dumpty, and I was about to be royally fucked. I could feel the shit storm coming for me a mile away; tonight was just the beginning, the harbinger of what was to come.

When I reached the hotel, I rode the elevator to my floor and stepped off to walk to my door. I pushed it open and found the room just as dark and lonely as it had been when I'd left it. I sighed and decided I needed to do something, anything to stop the sickening swirl in my head.

I felt a wave of dizziness hit me, and I lurched toward the bathroom. I went down on my knees in front of the toilet, retched up the alcohol, and hated the fact that it burned just as bad coming back up. When I was done, I wiped my mouth and flushed the toilet before standing on shaky legs to grab my toothbrush.

After brushing my teeth, I started the shower and stripped out of my smoky, sour-smelling clothes. The hot water burned my pale skin, making it redden and prickle under the intense heat. I scrubbed at my skin desperately, hoping it would come clean...but I knew what I was really trying to scrub clean was my heart, so full of darkness and despair. I needed to feel clean again.

It didn't work, but I had to get out of the shower, so I turned off the water and wrapped a towel around myself and another around my hair. I stepped out in the room and found my pajamas, putting them on before I turned on the television for some company.

There was a soft knock on the door and I turned to answer it. Edward was standing on the other side, looking like a breath of fresh air, even though he looked exhausted. "Oh, hey, Edward. What's up?" I greeted, and my voice sounded hollow, even to myself.

His eyes searched mine and he stepped closer to the threshold to my room. "I was just passing Professor Allan in the lobby and he asked me to tell you we're leaving at seven for the monument tour tomorrow. Are you okay?" he asked, looking worried.

"Okay. Yeah, I'm okay," I lied. I didn't need to burden him with my stupid issues, especially not when I could sense that he had something of his own going on.

His eyes narrowed and he watched me carefully. "You're lying. What's wrong?"

I rolled my eyes and huffed at him. "How do you know I'm lying?"

He stepped closer until I could smell him, and his scent did funny things to me: it made me feel both calm and excited, as if something in me knew that I needed him.

Except I didn't want to need him. He was a complication that my life clearly did not need right now.

"When you lie, your left eyebrow goes up and you can't make eye contact. Your neck turns red and you look nervous. You couldn't lie to save your life, Bella. Tell me what's wrong," he insisted.

I sighed and opened the door wider to let him come in. He stepped past me and I inhaled deeply, wishing I could bottle his essence and keep it with me for whenever I needed a lift.

I followed him back into the room and sat down on the bed, afraid to look at him. I wanted to confide in him, even though I didn't know how he would react. I knew Leah and Jake would go crazy when I told them about tonight, but I also had faith that they wouldn't desert me like I knew some of my friends would if they found out I'd broken my edge.

"I sort of...broke my edge tonight," I admitted to my bare feet.

I heard Edward's sharp intake of breath. I looked up at him and saw his shocked expression. He quickly schooled it into a neutral expression and appeared to consider my words. "Why?" he asked quietly.

I returned to staring at my feet. I really needed to take this chipped nail polish off. I'd had it on since the Veg Fest in July...

I shrugged miserably and felt too stupid to explain my motives, which all sounded so moronic now. I didn't want to admit to Edward that I'd secretly hoped if I could try drinking, that maybe I would come to understand my father and why he chose to drink.

Unfortunately, after all was said and done, the only thing I felt was betrayal. I'd betrayed myself and everything I'd stood for since I was a teenager.

"I guess it's true what they say," he said quietly. "The harder they talk, the harder they fall..."

My head snapped up and I glared at him. "And what's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

He held up his hands in surrender. "Only that it doesn't make sense to me that you'd be so passionate about something, just to throw it away like this."

I shot off the bed and stomped up to him. "Oh yeah? You mean just like how you're 'taking a break' from the band?" I shot back.

Edward's eyebrows snapped low and he looked pissed at being called out. "That's different," he muttered. "And besides, who said I was taking a break?"

I snorted derisively and pointed at myself. "This is my 'I believe you' face. Don't fucking lie to me, Edward. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why you'd give up an opportunity as big as Bumbershoot. You're running away from something just as much as I am. God! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!"

His jaw clenched in anger and I welcomed it. "You don't know what's going on in my life, Bella. Don't stand there and act like you're the only one going through some shit," he said through his teeth.

I pulled back as if he'd slapped me. "I'm not. I know you're going through something, but even after I've opened up to you, you still refuse to do the same. I can't know what's going on inside your fucking head if you don't tell me!"

At my words, his shoulders collapsed and he relaxed his jaw. "I know you're right, but there's too much. Too much going on."

We stood there staring across the small space between our bodies, but the inches might as well be the Grand Canyon; I couldn't reach him, and he wouldn't reach out to me.

Why did it matter, anyway? When did he come to mean so much to me?

Not Edward, the staid conservative, and not Tony, the wildly fascinating activist. The person I cared about now was a confusing mixture of the two, and it scared me. It scared me that he mattered.

I watched in silence as he regarded me the same way I was regarding him. Could he see how badly I wanted to reach out for him? Did he sense the need in me?

After what felt like ten years, his arms twitched up and without second guessing myself, I dove across the Great Divide to meet him. My body fell into his and I stood up on my tiptoes, blindly reaching for him. His arms came around my waist and I felt them tighten, bringing me closer.

I waited for him to kiss me, but he didn't. He just...held me. His warmth, his strength, and his comfort spread through me, filling me with a sense of calm that I hadn't felt in ages. Edward's presence was, for once, soothing me.

I buried my face in his neck and he did the same. His breath was warm and moist against the skin of my neck, and I embraced that connection to him. I gripped his shirt in my hands tightly, feeling his solid muscles beneath the fabric. It made me feel grounded to be held by something so solid and steady.

I needed this. I'd had no idea how much I needed this.

A part of me knew if I wanted to, I could kiss him right now. It would be so easy. I could feel his lips on mine, I could lose myself in my attraction for him.

But another part of me knew that if I did that, I would only be making the same mistake I'd made earlier tonight by drinking. Losing myself wouldn't fix my problems and make them go away. I knew that now.

I fought the desire to cringe away from the intimacy, the pure sensation of this moment. When it came to the opposite sex, I was used to putting everything on a sexual level, but I just couldn't bring myself to do that right now. This was uncharted territory for me, but it was fulfilling in a way that I couldn't even put voice to.

His soft hair brushed against my cheek and neck, and I closed my eyes and relaxed into his arms. He welcomed me, bringing me closer, hugging me tighter. I took baby steps forward until my bare feet were touching the tips of his shoes and my knees pressed against his legs. I took deep breaths, inhaling him, trying to store this moment for later.

Would there ever be another moment like this in my lifetime? This undemanding, unconditional sense of comfort and understanding between two lost souls with so much pain tearing them apart?

I couldn't tell how long we stood there, but the minutes passed until we both relaxed and our arms dropped away as if by mutual agreement. He looked rejuvenated in a way, and I felt the same. The loss of his touch hurt, but I felt like we'd forged an unbreakable connection to each other just now.

How much difference could a hug really make between two people like us?

Apparently a world of difference.

We stood there awkwardly now, and I was suddenly terrified that he would walk out and I wouldn't get another chance to experience this newfound connection. "Would you...like to watch a movie or something?" I offered, desperate to keep him here.

His eyes cast about the room before they settled back on me. "Okay, sure," he replied with a shrug.

I released my pent-up breath and walked back over to the bed to find the remote. I clicked through the channels while he got comfortable next to me. A whisper in my head told me not to be disappointed that he wasn't jumping my bones, but it was difficult. After all, he was still hot, even if I was scared to pony up and kiss him.

We sat and watched Tommy Boy, laughing and quoting parts to each other. I began to feel like we were old friends, but the tension returned as soon as the movie was over. He stood up and walked to the door, and I followed him, saying I wanted to "walk him out."

He stopped and turned around at the last moment, looking at me as if trying to make his mind up about something. Did he want to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss him? Did he feel the same level of attraction?

Edward appeared to make up his mind to leave, but I grabbed his arm and called, "Wait!"

He looked down at me and I stood on my tiptoes again, because that was the only way I could reach his face due to our height difference. He looked surprised, but I didn't let it discourage me. I reached my hand up, wrapping it around the back of his head to bring it down to mine. I closed my eyes and kissed him, quickly and nervously. "Um, I just wanted to say thank you," I explained breathlessly.

God, I'd just kissed him like I was some thirteen-year-old girl kissing a boy for the very first time. How fucking embarrassing.

His eyes opened and he looked down at me with a confused expression. "For what?"

I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tide of mortification. "For the...hug...earlier. I really needed it."

He smiled self-consciously down at me. "I did, too."

I stared up at him, wishing I could kiss him again, and wishing like hell that he would kiss me in return. I wanted to, but I just couldn't see a way to make it happen, especially after that lame attempt.

He straightened away from the door and opened it. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight, Edward."

A/N: Oh man, please review. I will give you a preview of Ch 15. I tried to keep up with all the reviews from the last chapter, but unfortunately I left my power cord for my laptop in Washington and couldn't get on my computer for like, three days. So I'm sorry if I didn't send you a preview. :( Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did.