A/N: So, holy crap. This was received waaaaay better than I expected. I got two reviews, and a TON of watches. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations. Let me know what you think, how I can improve, and if my chapter lengths are okay.

thanks. dd.

Chapter 2

Louder Than Words

"A discovery is said to be an accident meeting a prepared mind."

Albert Szent-Gyorgyi

When we get to Claire's I tell Edward to park on the road. I neglected to inform him Claire runs her shop out of her renovated garage. There's a handcarved wooden sign hanging above the mailbox declaring this section of the house as, "Claire's Books and Teas." I lead Edward toward the side door a knock twice before letting us in. A bell rings inside her house. The garage isn't as industrial as it sounds. The carpet is a soft beige and just inside the tiled entryway there's a stuffed animal rabbit holding a sign politely requesting patrons remove their shoes. Off to one side of the open area is a midsized bar with granite countertops and a few barstools. The other side of room is packed with seven bookshelves labeled with "Good Books", "Great Books", "Free Books", "Self-Help", "Travel", "Romance", and "Classics". There are black and white photographs of dogs and small children, posters of upcoming movies, and fliers for community events lining the walls. Scattered throughout the room are bean bag chairs, recliners, and the two bay windows are lined with moss green bedding.

"Claire's," I say softly as Edward finishes unlacing his boots. He smiles at me before Claire walks into the room all hustle and bustle.

"What can I get for you?" She asks hurriedly tying her apron on. Her hair is a little rumpled and her jeans have paint on them. It wouldn't surprise me if she had been playing with her children before we arrived. Claire and Quil Ateara have two kids, Raven, the girl, is seven and her little brother, Sam, is five. All the money I earn comes from babysitting those two rascals and selling books behind Claire's counter.

"Bella! Hey!" Claire greets as she finally looks up at her guests, "Who's this?" She looks Edward up and down once before nodding her head in approval.

"This is Edward Cullen. He's new here. His dad is the new surgeon." I say, "Edward, this is Claire, Claire, Edward."

Edward extends his hand and makes eye contact as he speaks. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Claire. Bella was positively raving about your tea, cookies, and selection of books. We figured we'd stop by and get out of the rain, if we're not interrupting anything."

"'Pleasure's mine, Edward. Did Bella tell you she's obligated to tell you that? Little missy here works for me. Though, modesty aside, I do make the best cookies in town." She winks then.

He chuckles, and it's the nicest sound I've heard all day.

The silence that follows isn't terribly awkward, but I break it as soon as I can. "My usual," I say to Claire before turning to Edward. "We have stellar hot coco, a huge selection of teas, some blended coffee drinks, and pastries in as many different varieties as you can think of. I drink rose hip tea and have two French macaroons on the side. Anything sound good to you?"

"I'll take a hot chocolate and a scone if you have them." Edward has a very soft presence about him. He's always politely and speaks in slightly hushed tones. His voice doesn't bring to mind honey, or silk, like the romance novels lining Claire's shelves would say, but it does make me feel safe and warm.

I wonder off towards the free books letting Edward and Claire get to know each other. Claire's a talker; I'm not. She's a very nice lady, though. Easy to get along with, understanding, full of smiles and joy. I listen to Edward and her make easy conversation about the weather and what Edward thinks of Forks so far. I run my fingers lightly over the worn paperback spines of the novels before me.

I remember being six or seven years old the first time I came to Claire's. My dad put my up on a barstool with a ten dollar bill and told me to buy whatever I wanted. As I sipped on the hot coco in front of me I talked with Claire about why unicorns were amazing. I told her I had the movie The Last Unicorn at home and that it made me cry. At that Claire reached into the display case and grabbed me a brownie to go alongside the hot chocolate warming my hands.

At this point in time Claire was childless, single, and trying to make a living while paying her way through online college. As my dad scanned the bookshelf for a travel guide on Florida, where my mother lived at the time, Claire and I got to know each other. At the time her book selection was limited but she helped me off the barstool and held my hand as she showed me through the stacks of books. She told me, and I still remember her exact words to this day, "Books are gateways to other worlds." She handed me a copy of Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day. I read it the whole way home, that entire evening, and the next morning I was begging my dad to take me back to Claire's for another book.

"Hey," Edward's musical voice interrupts my inner ramblings. "Drinks are ready." He pulls two bean bags together after carefully setting our drinks down. He stands alongside me and quickly scans the books before grabbing one off the shelf. He sets it down in his lap and pats the bag next to him. "Please, sit."

I come to him empty handed and ease my tired, and gradually warming, body into the chair beside him. "So," I say, always the conversationalist.

He chuckles again and the safety and warmth of his voice envelopes me again. "So, your dad's a cop, your mom is…" He's cautious. I didn't mention her earlier and he's thinking she may be dead, or the likes.

"She lives in Michigan, now." I say, "But she's lived in Ohio, Alaska, Arkansas, Kansas, California, Texas, and New Mexico." I pause. "In the last four years." His eyes are wide. "My parents got divorced when I was really young, I stayed with my dad and my mom went touring the country. She's remarried now, to a guy nearly half her age. He used to play baseball and has a lot of money from that. He's retired now and he and my mom spend their days finding new houses to buy, selling the old ones, and making pottery. We email a lot, but that's about as close as our relationship is." I let him mull that over for a second before asking, "What about your parents? Where are you from?"

He takes a deep breath. "I was born in Chicago. My mom's name was Elizabeth, and my dad is Edward. She died giving birth and my dad wasn't a kid person. He put me up for adoption when I was a few days old and the Cullens, who can't have children of their own, quickly snagged me up. My dad and I have been in contact for as long as I can remember and we typically get together at least once a month to catch up on life. He's a business man for some corporation in New York, and he makes a shit-ton of money. He paid for my private school back in California.

"I grew up in a small city called Temecula. Though, compared to this place, Temecula seems huge. It was sunny, and warm, and not at all like Forks. Ummm, I have a little sister," He makes air quotes around the word sister, "and an older brother. My sister's name is Alice, she's 15, and Emmet, he just turned 18." He taps his index finger on his front teeth, "Yeah, I think that about sums me up. So, do you have any siblings?"

We get talking, and before I know it Claire is hovering over us. "I hate to break you guys up, but… it's closing in on midnight, and Bella has to open at 5:30 tomorrow, so you may want to head on home."

"Shit!" I grab my jacket off the floor where I'd tossed it at some point during our conversation. I stand and stretch before turning to Edward, "I hate to ask, but can I catch a ride home?"

Claire waves and nods at me as she turns to enter her house. 'Sorry,' I mouthed. She just waves me off.

Edward and I walk out the front door into the frigid night air in silence. We sit in his car waiting for the heater to kick on before Edward asks for directions. As he steers us down my winding driveway I'm trying to come up with the right way to say thank you. In the most literal context, Edward saved my life tonight. If not for him I'd be a lifeless body washed up on La Push Beach. When Edward parks in my driveway I turn to him and say thanks. Not for the life saving bit, but because he saved me from the awful music at the bonfire.

"Bella," He asks me then. "Can I ask you a question?"

I'm apprehensive, and going off my gut feeling I should have answered, "No," And called it a night. Instead I stare into his eyes and feel the warmth he exudes covering me again. I nod once and clear my throat. "Yeah," Is all I utter, and almost immediately I want to take it back. It was nice getting to know Edward, but friends don't do anything but act as dead weights on a dying person. And I'm dying. I'm the 17 year old suicidal girl and I can't have friends because all they do is put a wrench in my plan.

There's a long pause before Edward speaks, but when he does I'm one hundred percent sure I shouldn't have agreed to let him ask his question.

"What were you doing up on the cliff?"

A/N: Review?