Title: You Found Me

Full Summary: Edward Masen has lived the life of a nomadic vampire, travelling with James and Victoria since he awoke as an immortal. His ability to read minds has had the unusual side effect of making him a vampire with a conscience. Despite the ridicule from his coven mates, he's confident he's making the best of his existence and doing what's morally right... until he stumbles upon a brown-eyed girl reading in a meadow in Forks. As he attempts to befriend her and learns more about the sleepy town of Forks, Edward finds there's a lot more to being a vampire than he ever thought possible.

Pairings: Canon

Rating: M, for language and future sexing,

Disclaimer: I have fun playing with the characters, but I own nothing but the words to describe them; all characters, settings, and so on are property of their rightful owners.

Chapter: Six; Confusion

POV: Bella

AN: Thanks for the continued support :) As always I love to know what you're thinking. Reviews motivate :) The next few chapters have veered off my outline a bit, so hopefully they manage to mesh with the overall story. Once again, thanks to Jana who helped me work through the chaos and find a way to eventually get back.

xx

"Edward!" I squealed, embarrassingly happy to see him. As he had been yesterday, my new favourite person in the entire world was sitting in the centre of the meadow. Waiting for me.

Tears of happiness sting my eyes at the thought of him wanting to see me. Me, Bella Swan, the most boring eighteen-year-old on the planet. I berated myself for being so overdramatic. I knew I had a penchant for crying over stupid things, but this was ridiculous.

"Bella," he replied smoothly. At least one of us managed not to sound like a raving lunatic. "How are you this afternoon?" He folded his long legs beneath him. I tried not to stare and failed miserably.

"Bella?" he had to repeat before I realized I had zoned out, intoxicated by his mere presence. I was standing like a statue ten feet away. Too far, much, much too far.

"Oh, um, I've been good," I answered distractedly, snapping out of my Edward-induced daze.

I wondered how close he would let me sit to him today. The short distance we had sat apart yesterday felt like miles. I wanted to touch his pale hand, and see if the sparks I imagined were real.

Erring on the side of safety, I settled myself in the long grass a couple feet away from him. I threw my backpack on the grass between us to create some semblance of a barrier, as if it could protect me from jumping him. I didn't want to push my luck.

"I'm glad to hear that. You deserve happiness."

He smiled broadly at me once I was settled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. I could write sonnets about those eyes. I had thought he was beautiful before, but after seeing him up close and personal, I had to admit they were far and away his most beautiful feature, which was saying something as the man radiated attractiveness.

"Thanks," I said bashfully, my omnipresent blush forcing its way to the surface of my skin. There was a beat of silence between us as we looked into one another's faces shyly.

The sadness in his eyes once again caught my attention. "Are you okay? Did something happen? Your eyes… you look sad," I blurted out.

He looked slightly alarmed. I frowned. Why would that freak him out? "Why, what colour are they?" he asked.

I frowned at the odd question. "The same colour they always are. Burgundy. That is, if a single word could be used to describe them," I laughed.

He sighed in apparent relief. "Good." He paused briefly before answering my original question. "I got into a fight with my brother-in-law," he admitted.

"Your brother-in-law?" I asked suspiciously. "Yesterday you told me that your sister had a fiancé. Now they're married?" I knew for a fact that he had said they were engaged. I had remembered every second of yesterday, down to the smallest, most insignificant details. Maybe I was being dramatic again, but it had felt like a turning point. I wanted to remember everything about the day. I had a feeling it would be a day I would want to recall for the rest of my life.

He looked down. "That's kind of what we fought about," he explained sheepishly. "Victoria, that's my sister, and James, that's my brother-in-law, eloped a week ago without telling me."

There was something in his expression that told me he wasn't telling the truth. If you asked me what it was, I wouldn't have been able to say. It was just a feeling I had. He had a perfect poker face. Figured. He had a perfect everything else, too.

I peered at him skeptically, not sure whether I should play stupid or call him out. I decided I'd play along, and see what he had to say. Maybe I was just imagining it.

"So why would that cause a fight?"

"They never let me in on anything," he explained, frustration obvious in his tone. "Victoria's older than me. Our parents have been dead for almost as long as I remember. I only have a few memories of my mother. I don't remember much of anything about my father."

"That's so horrible," I sympathized, forgetting that I wasn't sure if he was telling the truth. No one with a conscience lies about their dead parents. "So it's just been you and Victoria since you were a kid?"

Edward began picking at his cuticles, to avoid my eyes, I was sure. His nails were perfectly groomed, like he'd never picked at them a day in his life. As a former compulsive nail biter I knew what a bad habit looked like when I saw one. Edward was really starting to confuse me. He was so hot and cold. One minute he was smiling at me like I lit up his world, the next moment he was scowling at his hands, pretending to have a nasty habit, just so he didn't have to look at me.

"Victoria was eighteen when our parents died. I was six," he said, refusing to meet my eyes. "She has control of all our finances and property. My dad was a lawyer and everything was left to me, his only son. James and Victoria have kind of shared raising me. They've made all of the decisions in my life. She loves me, I'm sure, but she's not a replacement for a mother. Parents care what their children think. At least sometimes. James and Victoria make decisions that affect me and they've never thought to include me. I'm not six years old anymore. I'm tired of it."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, now sure there was some truth to this story. No one goes through the trouble of making up a story like that just because. No one could fake emotions like that, unless they were a sociopath, and Edward definitely didn't seem like that kind of person. "I know that's probably the last thing you want to hear, but I mean it. I know how it feels to feel abandoned by your parents. My mom is a good person. She's just a little flighty, y'know? I feel like I was her mom more than she was mine."

"Yeah." His voice was as soft as mine. "I'm sorry I'm ruining our time together by being so moody, or 'emo,' as James would call it," he air-quoted, sardonically. We were talking in whispers, even though there was no need. The forest around us was strangely silent. I stilled momentarily, listening for something, the chirp of a bird, anything to indicate life in the surrounding area, but there was nothing. How strange.

"No, it's okay," I soothed. "I want you to be able to talk to me. I've been told I'm a good listener. And I give super awesome advice."

He hummed. "Well, I could definitely use some of that magical advice."

He smiled tightly, the shine not quite reaching his eyes. I so badly wanted to touch his hand, to comfort him, but I didn't trust myself and I wasn't sure whether he would accept the gesture. I didn't think I could stomach it if he brushed me off.

"Want to tell me how the fight went down?" I asked gently, not wanting to be too pushy if he didn't.

He shrugged but started talking anyway. "They told me they were married and it was fine. I hadn't been dying to attend their wedding. It's just that James was being insolent about the whole thing, trying to provoke me into reacting. Trying to assert himself as the alpha male of the family, now that he'd officially married my sister. He said some things to me, I said some things back and next thing I knew he took a swing at me. We kind of got into it, until Victoria pulled us apart. I haven't seen either of them since yesterday."

I stared at him with wide eyes. "You got into a fist fight with your brother-in-law?" I asked incredulously. "You don't look like you got in a fight. You don't even have a bruise." Granted, he was wearing long sleeves, but at school, busted lips and black eyes were the norm when the boys got into it with one another. Coming out without a scratch was rare to nonexistent.

I had to admit, I found the idea of Edward getting into a fight and holding his own kind of sexy. I blushed furiously as the thought crossed my mind. I'd never thought of anything or anyone as sexy in my life, but it seemed like the appropriate descriptor for someone that inspired that strange, tingly fluttering in my stomach.

"Oh, believe me," Edward smirked crookedly. I felt myself melt a little more. I was so screwed. "I've got bruises." He tapped his pant-covered leg knowingly.

"Can I see?" I asked eagerly, unashamed.

If Edward were a blusher, I think he would have. He shook his head, looking slightly panicked, or was that nervousness? "That would be ungentlemanly, Bella."

"Oh, right," I scoffed. "You're suddenly a gentleman, now? Yesterday, you were rolling around on the floor trading blows with your brother-in-law."

Edward's brow furrowed. "That's an entirely different circumstance, Bella. You are a lady. James is… well, he's not. He's a bit of a… well, perhaps we should leave that unspoken. I don't want to use such coarse language."

A laugh bubbled up in my throat. I wasn't much of a swearer, but this was downright ridiculous. "What, were you even born in the twentieth century, Edward? My grandma is less uptight about manners than you are."

Edward frowned. "Just because I prefer not to act like a hooligan around women, does not mean I'm old-fashioned. It's respectful. Also, I can assure you with one hundred percent honesty that I was, in fact, born in the twentieth century."

"I was kidding, Edward," I giggled at his overly formal response. Lawyers gave less structured rebuttals. Acting like an adult for the last decade had matured him beyond his years. Way beyond. "Nice to know you have a sense of humor. And 'hooligan,' seriously? Who says that?"

Edward looked offended, his face scrunched up adorably. It was the first expression I'd ever seen on his face that even so much as bordered on unattractive. "I have an excellent sense of humour, Miss Swan," he said indignantly. "'Hooligan' is a perfectly acceptable word to describe young boys and the debauchery they get themselves into these days."

"'Young boys?' 'These days?' You keep making yourself sound older, there, Grandpa," I teased, the words spewing out before I could stop them. It was worth getting a reaction out of him.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Bella. You are incorrigible."

"Yes, I am," I agreed. "I'm sorry. Please don't think I'm trying to offend you. I can't stop my mouth sometimes."

At this, his grinned widely. "No. You're… spunky. I like it. Adore it, in fact. I haven't had this much fun around anyone in ages."

"Why not?" I asked innocently. "As we've already discussed, you're beautiful. You could hang out with the cool kids on attractiveness alone. Go get drunk, hang out at parties. That's got to be more fun than hanging out with me, bookworm Bella."

"I'm homeschooled," he admitted. "We move too often for me to attend school like a regular teenager. So I'm not around other kids often. You sell yourself short. Your company is preferable to most, if not all. Intelligence is becoming. I love that you're well read."

"You do?" I asked dubiously. "Everyone else thinks I'm a dork. Angela is my only friend at school that likes to read. Jessica and Lauren wouldn't be caught dead with a book in their hands, and Jake and the guys are too busy with video games and fixing up their cars to worry about meaningless things like books."

"Well, they're missing out then, aren't they?" he suggested reasonably.

"I guess they are," I laughed, not used to anyone, besides my father – who, as police chief, didn't really count – standing up for me, even if it was against my own self-esteem issues.

He nodded at my backpack, which was laying between us, long forgotten. "Bring anything interesting, today? Anything I might have heard of?"

I shrugged. Of course I had books, but I had no idea what kind of books he liked. So far we'd only talked about the books in the classic canon. "I'm not sure." I began to pull out school materials from the knapsack. I noticed his eyes lingered on my journal for a moment longer than necessary. I flushed, quickly placing my binder on top of it. All my thoughts about him resided in there. I'd die a slow, horrible death via embarrassment if he ever read them.

When I pulled out White Noise, he quirked a well-groomed eyebrow. "Fan of the postmodern, are you?"

"You know DeLillo?" I asked incredulously. Not many kids my age read stuff like this. Granted, I'd only been turned onto it by a suggestion Mr. Mason had made in class a few weeks ago, but I'd taken the initiative to order it on Amazon.

He smiled at me, almost wistfully. "You're aware that that's a book in which one of the central themes is the fear of death, aren't you?"

I stuck my chin up, staring into his too-pretty eyes defiantly. "So?" I said haughtily. "You don't think I'm interested in things more substantial than simple romance novels? I might like a good love story, but I am not a harlequin girl."

"I never suggested you were," he said quietly, his tone appeasing. "I'm just surprised you'd choose something so potentially morbid and enjoy it."

"I'm not afraid of dying, but I think it's an interesting topic," I countered. "It's simply a part of the life cycle, yet we fear death, as if it's something unnatural. I'm more interested in what one chooses to do while they're alive. I want to live my life to the fullest while I'm around to do so. I don't believe saving yourself for the afterlife. Who knows if there is one?"

He glowered slightly, whether he was shocked or upset, I wasn't quite sure. "You aren't afraid of dying," he stated flatly. "Do you even understand what death is?"

"I suppose not. Do you?" I challenged. "Does anyone? It seems silly, to me, to be afraid of the unknown, which is essentially what death is. Come what may."

"No," he stated, his voice hard. There was an underlying tension there, and I wasn't sure why. "You don't believe in the afterlife? How can you not be worried that this is it for you? Once your life on earth is over, it'll be as if you never existed. What if there's nothing left?"

"Then I'll be gone, what will I care?" I challenged. "I will have existed, though. Love will insure that. As long as I'm loved, I will live forever."

He laughed. The sound was a relief after the tense conversation of the past few minutes. "You really are a hopeless romantic at heart, aren't you?" he wondered, though I'm sure he had already deduced the answer to his own question.

"Proud of it," I stated firmly, unable to keep the smile off my face at the silken sound of his answering laugh.

He smiled and nodded. "Silly, beautiful girl." My cheeks heated at the word 'beautiful used in reference to me.

Suddenly, the smile dropped from his face.

Out of nowhere, the sound of logs being crushed and snapped started to rip through the air, from somewhere to the northwest. At first it was faint, but it got progressively louder, as if coming closer. It sounded like a bulldozer was ploughing through the forest.

The noises were reminiscent of the ones I'd heard shortly before I'd met Edward, but louder and more boisterous…. more violent. The forest was starting to creep me out a little. What was going on around here?

Edward's head popped up like a shot, panic written all over it. Without warning, he reached out, and grabbed my forearm, almost roughly, pulling me to my feet. Even through the thin fabric of my shirt, the touch was electric. I didn't have time to dwell on it, though. Edward passed me my backpack, which he had hastily retrieved from the ground and gestured towards the path that led back to Charlie's house.

"Go home. Now." Though his voice was low, it was clearly a command, not a suggestion. His words were clipped but I could read panic into them. He seemed genuinely frightened. It was an odd experience. I'd seen him smug, shy, content, melancholy… but I'd never seen him look so downright terrified. "Hurry home. Please. Go."

I followed his directions, mutely, too perplexed by the abruptness of the situation to do or say anything. It wasn't sunset yet. Why was he sending me home? We still had plenty of time until the sun even thought about setting. Surely whatever was making that noise would go away.

Edward made sure I got to the edge of the meadow safely as the noise in the distance grew closer. What could it be that would send him into such a state?

By the time I ducked past the first tree on the path, I'd found my voice. "Edward?" I asked, "Is everything okay? What's going on?" I turned to hear his answer, sure he had been following me. He was gone.

So I followed his directions. I went home.

Then proceeded to punch my innocent pillow.

xx

The next day, I grumbled my way through all six periods plus lunch, a little black rain cloud floating invisibly above my head. I wasn't even necessarily looking forward to seeing Edward after class.

I was a little (okay, a lot) upset with him for the abrupt brush off and complete lack of an explanation. Vindictively, I wanted to make him suffer, by refusing to show up. Unfortunately, that would mean not seeing him at all, and I knew I couldn't do that. Ugh. Couldn't he just make it easier for us both and talk to me like a normal human being?

I'm sure Alice thought I was the most horrible person on the planet. We'd had our scheduled lunch meeting, which had been postponed a day, to work on our Spanish project. I'd snapped and snarked my way through the entire hour, too upset to care how horribly I was acting. Alice had been all smiles and sunshine, so I assumed I hadn't affected her too adversely. She'd even asked me questions about myself, trying to be friendly. I'd rebuffed her valiant attempts, always returning her attention to our project. I felt a little remorse afterwards, but not enough to change my mood.

When the three o'clock bell finally tolled, relief surged. That didn't stop me from stomping to my locker to retrieve my jacket and other belongings. Halfway there, I bumped into Alice, and went flying to the ground. After a cursory check to make sure I hadn't injured anything, she bent down to help me pick up my dropped books, apologizing profusely.

The experience hadn't lightened my mood any and I found myself in an even worse mood than before. "Thanks, Alice," I grumbled.

"No problem, Bella! Is everything okay?" she chirped.

I grumbled an affirmative. Maybe if I kept up with the monosyllables, she'd lay off.

"Are you sure? You seemed like you were having a rough day, earlier, at lunch?" she offered in what I'm sure was her version of a soothing tone. Even that sounded a little cheery.

I guess even monosyllables and the spirit of evil weren't enough to keep Alice away.

I gathered the books she'd handed to me into a neat pile, balancing them on my hip.

"I'm fine," I said simply. "I need to get going."

"Have fun!" she smiled at me and winked.

I blinked. Did she just wink at me?

Not caring enough to dwell on it, I threw my books into my ugly orange locker, not caring, for once, if they looked neat. I was sure I'd cringe tomorrow at my rough treatment of them, once my bad mood wore off. My mom, book torturer that she was, laughed at my protectiveness of my books. She liked to crack the spines of books, claiming it made them easier to read. I didn't think she'd ever finished a book in her life, so I wasn't sure why she cared. Regardless, that was one of my biggest pet peeves. As a grade A bookworm, I didn't like the mistreatment of books.

I yanked my backpack over my shoulder, slammed my locker closed and stalked towards the parking lot.

I rolled my eyes when they landed on Jake, who was waiting for me next to my truck, sitting atop one of our dirtbikes. Hadn't my dad confiscated those? When his eyes lit upon me, something akin to relief flashed through them. It was immediately replaced by a massive grin.

Pretending not to see him, I rounded Jake, making a beeline for my truck. Jake, of course, couldn't read that I was in a downright pissy mood and waved at me eagerly. What was with everyone being so freaking happy today?

"Bella!" He grinned, still waving like a doofus.

"What are you doing here? Didn't you hear me when I told you that I'd call you when I felt like talking to you again? Remember, it was when you woke me up by throwing rocks at my house in the middle of the night?" I snipped.

Jake pshawed. He actually pshawed at me. "Are you still upset about that? It's been two days. Come on, Bells, live a little. Forgive and forget."

"I am living," I huffed out a breath irritably. "See? Breathing."

It was Jacob's turn to roll his eyes. "Bella, Bella. Never change. I figured we could go for a ride." He patted his leather bike seat lovingly. "There are some things I need to talk to you about. It's important." He pouted like a three-year-old. "Really important."

I crossed my arms. "I'm listening. If it's important, you can say it here."

"Uh, no, I really can't." He shook his head forcefully, sending his long black ponytail flying.

"I guess it isn't that important then, is it?" I questioned flippantly.

"It's tribe business, Bella," he said forcefully, all hints of teasing now gone. "It's confidential. And it involves your safety."

"You don't need to worry about my safety," I retorted meanly. "My dad has already taken on that duty."

"Isabella," Jake growled, his tone now stern, a complete one eighty from his former playful one. Did he just full name me? I swear I felt steam start to pour out of my ears, like I was a Saturday morning cartoon character. "This is not a joking matter. Come with me now. I need to talk to you."

"I don't know who you think you are, Jake," I snarled, the volume of my voice creeping steadily higher, "but I am two years older than you. I can deal with any issues that arise regarding my safety on my own."

"You don't understand!" he cried, drawing the attention of a few onlookers, one of which happened to be Alice Cullen. She dropped Jasper's hand and rushed to my side.

"Bella, is this guy bothering you?" I'd never been so grateful to hear Alice's voice in my life. Her tone was sweet, but there was an underlying hostility I wouldn't have thought her capable of previously.

I glared at Jake. "Yes."

"Listen, Cullen," Jake barked, "this is none of your business, so if you wouldn't mind butting out, I need to talk to Bella."

"Actually, Black, when you're harassing one of my friends, it becomes my business," Alice snapped.

My eyebrows soared towards my hairline. Alice and Jake knew one another? Since when? How?

"Your friend?" Jake laughed manically. "You don't know what friendship is."

"Seems I know more than you," Alice retorted. "I know better than to try to coerce my friends into doing things that they don't want to do."

"Um, guys," I interrupted tentatively. My bad mood was starting to fade as shock settled its place. "Please, there's no need to fight. Jake, just go home. I'm fine."

"You know what? Fine," Jake grumbled, already returning his helmet to his head. "I'm done trying to help you. If you want to sign your life over to a leech, that's your problem. I'll see you at your funeral. Have a nice life."

With that, he toed the kickstand on his bike with a loud clatter and turned the throttle, dust and black hair flying behind him.

Once he was gone, I felt a sudden flash of regret for my surly attitude. It was Edward I was mad at, not Jake. I knew I could hold a grudge, but truthfully, I'd gotten over the stupid little tiff about the window almost immediately after it had happened. Jake had just been unfortunate enough to be on the warpath of Hurricane Bella and my monumental bad mood.

I turned to Alice, my eyes still wide from the confrontation. She smiled at me sympathetically. "Don't worry about it, Bella. He'll get over it. Give him a day or two, then try talking to him."

My brow crinkled, I blinked at her, more confused than ever. I was too stunned to try to pin down one of the many questions zipping about my mind. Hadn't she just been yelling in his face? Now she was giving me advice about how to patch up my friendship with him? Were they actually friends? Or enemies? And what exactly was Jake talking about that had him so upset?

"Are you going to be okay?" Alice asked.

Bizarrely, I felt a rush of affection for her. Minutes ago, I would have never thought such a feeling possible. She was the polar opposite of me in every way. I'd always been more exasperated with her extreme personality than anything.

"Yeah, I'll be okay," I assured her. "Thanks for your help with Jake. He can be stubborn."

She muttered something under her breath. "No problem. It was my pleasure. Us girls have to stick together. I'll see you around?"

I nodded. "See you around," I repeated dumbly, watching as she turned to reclaim Jasper's hand. Jasper half-smiled at me, so I tried to smile back, but the effort was rather weak. Together they walked towards the crimson BMW where Rosalie was already waiting, her pink nails tapping on the steering wheel impatiently.

I entered my own vehicle and rested my head on the steering wheel, still processing everything that had happened. My head was still spinning from the confrontation with Jake and Alice… thoughts of the strange noises… Edward and his peculiar exit … my attempts to make sense it all. What was going on?

My life was a circus. All I was missing were the elephants. God, I missed being boring.