I was just finishing up applying my mascara when Alice called. She had personalized her caller ID on my cell phone to a happy and upbeat tune. I situated the phone in between my ear and my shoulder. "Hello."

"Okay, so Jasper has the stomach flu."

I blinked. "Huh?"

"Jasper has the stomach flu. Which means that he can't come to Vino with us. But when he called me to tell me, he sounded so weak it was just sad. So I think instead of going out to eat pasta and garlic bread I'll be going to his house, bringing along my mom's homemade chicken noodle soup."

For a few seconds I said nothing. "Huh?"

"Jasper and I aren't going."

"Um, yeah, Jasper and you ARE going. Because I am not, I repeat not, going to Vino with just your brother, Alice. No way in hell."

"Bella, come on, this is like, fate or something. He's on his way, I already told him I'm not going, but that you two have to since I went through all that trouble to get the reservation booked. I gave him the address to your house, so he should be there any minute."

"Alice," I said. "I can't. You can't leave me like this. What are we supposed to talk about? We can't talk about biodegradable garbage in Vino. Plus we have nothing in common."

"Bella, it doesn't matter. Just be like Rosalie. And you'll be fine."

I shook my head even though she wasn't able to see it. "But, Alice—"

Just then my dad called up the stairs, "BELLA, HE'S HERE!"

"Alice," I said quickly. "Please. Call him or something. Get him home. I know you went through so much trouble to get that reservation and everything, for me, but do this for me now and please please please—"

Then I realized then that she had hung up, and I was talking to an empty phone line.

Hurriedly, I glanced around my room for some sort of an escape. Maybe I could accidentally cut my finger off with the fan? Or poke an eye out with the lip-gloss brush? I was contemplating the former when my door flung open. "Bella," my dad said. "Edward's outside, waiting in the car."

If I fainted now from dehydration—

"C'mon." He jerked his head. "He's waiting."

Sighing, I followed my dad out my door, down the stairs, and into the living room. Well, I thought. It could be worse. He could've came in to get you—

The doorbell rang.

Wonderful.

My dad looked awkward as he opened the door. Edward, who was in a dress shirt and a tie, somehow was appearing as even more awkward. "Hello, Chief Swan," he said. "Hello, Bella. Are you ready to go?"

"Um...." No. "Yes."

"Hello, Edward," my father was saying now, a delayed reaction. He had one hand on the wall beside him, where his gun for work was hanging up. I rolled my eyes. "You kids don't be out too late, okay?" He was staring at Edward as he said this.

Edward shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Okay, Chief Swan."

"Okay. I'll see you, uh, later, Dad."

Edward and I walked out the door, the whole time Charlie's eyes were on Edward's back. He didn't go back inside—where he then looked out the window at us, as if we weren't able to see him—until we were beside his truck.

Be like Rosalie, Alice's words hung in my head.

Okay, Bella. Be like Rosalie. What would Rosalie do? She'd compliment him. No. Don't do that. Rosalie would take a chance. Rosalie would say something that would surprise Edward Cullen so much he'd have nothing but respect for her. And that's what you need from him. Respect. Therefore that's what you need to do. Take a chance. A big chance.

"This is a nice car," I said suddenly, running my hand over the hood of the Volvo. Edward was standing right outside the driver's side door, ready to hop in and drive to Vino.

"Thanks," he replied.

"I love cars," I informed him. Take a chance. "Do you think I could, I don't know, drive it?"

For a few seconds he just stared at me. Like, really stared. He stared so hard my whole face, including my ears, was burning red. Had I said the wrong thing?

"Um." He slowly began to nod. "Sure. Why not?"

"Cool," I said, smiling. We switched sides, and I slid into the leathery driver's seat. The Volvo still had that nice new car smell. "You have the keys?" When he dropped them into my hands I put it into the ignition and took the car out of park and into reverse. After backing out of the driveway, I started towards the main street.

"You can go a little faster," he told me, and I nodded, already pushing the gas pedal down a tad farther. The Volvo sped up instantly, and then we were on the main road, cruising past other vehicles.

"This is fun," I said, because my truck didn't usually ride over the roads so smoothly.

"Uh, yeah—holy shit, LOOK OUT."

I gasped audibly when I saw that we were heading straight for a construction zone, and a rather large hole about a hundred metres away, surrounded by DO NOT ENTER tape.

"TURN!" he cried, clutching the sides of his seat.

"I AM I AM!"

I threw the steering wheel to the left and the Volvo swerved safely away from the hole and into oncoming traffic. People honked their horns at us as I got back into the right lane, trying to calm my breathing.

"My God," Edward said, leaning back in his leather chair. "That was close."

Just as I was about to say, "I know," a cat pranced out in front of the car. I jerked the steering wheel again, and somehow the car spun around a few times, and then we were going down into a ditch, backwards. I was screaming, Edward was screaming. The back bumper hit something, hard, and I was about to fly into the steering wheel when the airbags went off, making a big WHOOSH noise. Beside me I noticed Edward flying into the airbag wildly, and from behind us I heard something heavy fall onto the ground. I suspected this was the bumper.

"Oh. My. God," I mumbled while the airbags slowly sunk down. I glanced over at Edward. He was staring straight ahead, at the steep hill we had fallen down—his eyes were wide, face bright red, and mouth slightly agape.

So I said the only think I could think of. "Damn cat."

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