Chapter 12 - Ain't No Reason

"Sweetie?"

"Yes, Mom?"

My hand freezes on the front door knob, and I slowly pull it away. I thought I could get out of the house without seeing her, especially after last night's surprise meeting of the minds on the front steps. And also because I happened to sneak into the house a half hour after my midnight curfew. My mom had been asleep on the couch in the living room, a book resting in her lap, and I'd tiptoed past her as quietly as I could.

From the tone of her voice, though, it hadn't been quietly enough. I'd obviously tripped her Mom Radar as soon as I crossed the threshold, even if she didn't call me out. I have a feeling I'm about to be interrogated.

Obviously, sneaking out of the house now is working about as well as sneaking in the house last night did.

I turn, waiting for her to appear with Eric. Her heels mute as she walks over the Oriental rug in the dining room, before they're at full volume on the foyer floor.

"Where are you off to?" She smiles when she sees a pair of heels dangling from my fingers, her eyes lighting with recognition. "Ah, dress shopping with the girls. You're wearing your strapless, right?"

I roll my eyes, but I'm actually grateful we're discussing my bra instead of Emmett. "I know the deal by now, Mom." She sighs and tugs on my ponytail, her fingers dancing over the already sleek strands. I decide to throw her a bone. "Should I pay cash or credit?"

"You know we always say go with cash, if you have it on you. Come have a quick breakfast before you go; I'll grab my wallet." Her pants swish as she walks into the kitchen, expecting me to follow.

I'd planned to stop at the bank and just tap the ATM machine, but the Bank of Mom is even easier. "I'll take your cash, but I'm actually doing breakfast with Stan and Mallo over in Port Angeles before we shop, so you can keep the food," I say.

She leans down to put Eric on the floor and when she straightens, she runs a hand over her pants.

"You're too good to me," she says wryly, as pulls her wallet from her purse and thumbs through a stack of bills. Then she makes her way to my dad's drawer, opening the ceramic box that I made for him when I was ten, where he keeps his cash. "Daddy's playing tennis but I'm sure he won't mind donating to a good cause." She winks and places the money in my outstretched hand. "So, I spoke to Esme last night."

"Did you now? How's she doing?" I reply evenly, not wanting to give anything away or be the first to bring up Emmett.

She waves her hand in the air. "Fine, fine, she's doing fine. She did mention, however..."

Oh lord, here it comes.

But again, what she says isn't what I expect. "...That you were over there last weekend, taking pictures for a website." Her voice raises at the end of her statement, making it sound more like a question. "She said she framed a picture of Edward and Bella you took that was...how did she put it? 'Absolutely stunning,' I believe her words were."

Pride bubbles up in my chest at the relayed compliment and I grin, although I try to keep it tempered. "Well, I'm glad she liked it." I go on to explain Alice's Etsy site and the pictures I took, not only for that but for the newspaper, too.

Mom's expression is guarded. She speaks cautiously, something that I'm not used to with her. "Rosalie, could I... when you get home, do you think I can see your pictures?"

My mind reels and again, I attempt to play it cool. "Um, yeah. Yes. You can." And because she seems to be receptive for the first time regarding this, I push it a step further. "You know, there's a photography class at the community college that I've been looking at. It's too late to do anything at my school and everything I know so far has been self taught, but maybe..."

"All right, we'll see." It doesn't sound like she's merely trying to placate me with her words this time. It's not a 'no.' It sounds like she's actually considering it, that she might be open to this idea. "Maybe after we get your progress report and see how you're doing."

Always with the stipulations. Maybe I'll see about that.

"I should really head over to meet up with the girls," I say, picking up my keys from the counter. Our conversation was relatively harmless, all things considered. Actually, this little chat seems like it could be working in my favor. I have a feeling after I show her the pictures, I might be able to work my magic. Hell, after last night, I know I've got the power of persuasion down. I kiss her cheek and even let Eric lick my hand before making my way toward the front of the house.

"Have fun, sweetheart." I'm almost out of the kitchen but her voice follows me. "Oh and Rosalie, when you're showing me those pictures later? You'll have to tell me all about that Emmett McCarty. He must be special for you to miss curfew."

I turn back to see her standing there, eyebrows raised and an innocent smile on her face.

Well played, Mom. Well played.

xoxo

Lauren insists on driving to Port Angeles, ignoring the look Jess and I exchange. Her parents made the mistake of getting her an Audi A5, which is just way too compatible with her lead foot. I barely fit in the backseat, but it's the safest seat so I fight Jess for it, slipping in before she can get there. She grumbles her way into the passenger seat and then slides her hand over the headrest, flipping me off.

Jess and I spend the entire drive hanging on to the 'oh shit' handles while Lauren obliviously shouts over the music about finding me the perfect dress and how she can't believe I don't have one when Homecoming's a week away.

"Usually you're on top of this kind of thing," she says, lifting her chin to look in the rearview mirror. I can't see her eyes behind her huge, dark sunglasses, but I feel them on me. I can also hear the question in her voice.

"I guess it doesn't matter as much to me this year," I reply with a shrug.

"It should matter to you most this year, Posie." Jess turns in her seat, still hanging on to the handle above her. I shrug again and she nudges my knee with her knuckles, frowning. "Senior year? Queen? Any of these things ringing a bell here?"

"Are you bummed because you don't have someone to go with?" Lauren pipes up.

"What do you call Edward, Mallo?"

"You know what I mean." I do, but I stay quiet. She lets out an impatient sigh. "A boyfriend, Posie. Also known as what you had up until a few weeks ago? You know, that guy that you went to every dance with since freshman year?"

"Oh, that guy," I reply sarcastically. I can practically feel Lauren's eyes rolling and I lift my sunglasses to roll them back. "It's not like he was the life of the party at any of the dances we went to."

He was actually the antithesis of the life of the party. He was the guy who acted above it all, who smirked coolly while Mike and Tyler made complete idiots of themselves on the dance floor. He hated dancing, especially the slow kind, and was usually twitching with boredom an hour into the night. He just wanted to get the hell over to Mike's house for the after-party, for the alcohol and empty bedroom, if there was one.

I still remember Jess coming up to us at Prom last year, both of us sprawled out at our table, me with my shoes kicked off and him with his hand on my thigh. "Look at you guys!" she'd shouted over the thumping bass, drunk off the vodka Tyler had smuggled in in a flask. "Cool customers, my Posie and her Roy. Loosen up! You need to dance!"

She'd yanked on my arm, but Roy's hand had clamped down on my leg. "I don't dance," he said.

And so neither did I.

"Yeah, but this will be the first dance you guys don't go to together," Lauren says now, breaking me out of my thoughts. "It'll be kind of weird, don't you think?"

I look out the window, watching the scenery fly by. "It'll definitely be different."

We're quiet for a few minutes, Jess humming along to the radio while Lauren bops her head back and forth. And then Jess lowers the volume on the radio, turning to face me again. Her expression is hesitant as she plays with her seat belt buckle. She looks at Lauren and then at me. "So, Mike told me something about Roy and Vera."

I raise an eyebrow, but stay silent. This again?

"I wasn't going to say anything at all but... well, you know that's just not possible." Lauren snorts and Jess smacks her arm, then looks back at me. "Mike told me that they've been having a lot of trouble. Or Roy has with Vera. He's been avoiding her texts and stuff. He won't admit it to Mike, but Mike says he's totally over her."

"That's because he's not over you," Lauren says, darting a glance at me over her shoulder.

"Why don't you focus on driving there, Mallo? Seventeen is way too young to die."

"You know he's not over you, right?" she presses, though she faces forward again.

They both wait expectantly, like I'm supposed to have some sort of opinion about it. I don't feel anything, though, except mild irritation that we're wasting time talking about this.

"Okay, and?"

"I don't know, do you think you'll ever -"

I interrupt before Lauren can finish her sentence. "Never. Roy and I are done, Mallo, no matter what."

My mind drifts to Emmett, my present and hopefully future. Roy already feels so far in the past.

"God, I just never thought you two would break up," Lauren replies, shaking her head. The sunlight plays off the golden strands of her hair and I reach forward instinctively to touch it, remembering all the nights I used to braid it when we were little. "I mean, obviously you broke up for a reason but you seemed like the perfect couple, you know?"

I have to wonder what our relationship looked like from the outside. It must have been so different from how it felt on the inside. Now that I know what it can be like, now that I've felt the things I do for Emmett, the three years I spent with Roy seem like a dress rehearsal. We had all of the props right, but nothing to back it up. I guess we played our parts well. Or at least I did.

If Lauren and Jess knew what we were really like, I doubt they'd think it was anything close to perfect. They both have something much more substantial with Tyler and Mike, even if it was built on the same things Roy's and my relationship was. We had the same upbringing, the same friends and background. But that only takes you so far. At some point, there has to be more. And with Roy and me, it seemed to become less as time went on.

I know what more feels like now, and I would never want to go back. The time I've spent with Emmett these past few weeks have only highlighted that I made the right decision with Roy.

I look out the window again, remembering how good it felt to be with Emmett last night. We left the rez pretty quickly after my confrontation with Jake, went back to his house and lay in his bed in the darkness, touching and kissing and whispering, back in our own little world. I can still feel his hands on me, the way his mouth felt, how he tasted a little like beer, but mostly like the mint gum he tried to mask the alcohol with.

Nothing has ever felt this good, so right.

I let out a soft sigh. "Things aren't always what they seem, Mallo," I reply, and though I don't say it, I don't just mean Roy.

xoxo

As much as I'd like to just get the first dress I try on that looks decent on me, Lauren and Jess push me along, passing dresses through the curtain until we find The One. The way they're acting, you'd think I was getting reading for my wedding rather than Homecoming. The dress I wind up with is stunning, though, so I'm begrudgingly grateful for their persistence.

We make our way back home in the early afternoon. As soon as I walk into my house, my mom is there, waiting to see the dress and "dish," as she puts it.

An hour later, she whisks out of my room and I flop back on my bed, smiling at the ceiling. Fishing my phone from my pocket, I light up the screen, finally able to look at it for the first time in hours. I held off while I was with the girls so that I didn't give them any more ammo, although I did peek a few times while I was squirreled away in the dressing room. I even managed to send a quick text to Emmett before they brought in another dress.

And let's just say I knew better than to check my texts while talking to my mom.

Sure enough, there's a text from Emmett, checking in. My face is flushed with excitement. I've missed him. But more importantly, I have news.

He picks up on the third ring, sounding distracted. "Hold on a sec, Ro. I'm just paying for my gram's lottery tickets." I listen as he jokes with the cashier, his voice muffled by what I'm guessing is his hand over the phone. He returns to me after a few minutes. "You still there, babe?"

"I'm still here," I reply, twirling a piece of hair between my fingers before absently making it a pretend mustache above my top lip.

"Hi," he says softly, and I hear the door to the Jeep slam.

"Hi, you. Lottery tickets?"

"Yeah, you know. A dollar and a dream? Gram totally buys into it. So far, most she's won is a couple hundred here and there, but it doesn't stop her from trying. I guess she'd like some financial security for me... you know, for the future or whatever."

It strikes me that my parents have never played the lottery; I don't think they even know where to buy a lottery ticket. I listen as he starts his car and then clears his throat as the phone switches to the speaker. "So, how was shopping? You didn't get in trouble for last night, did you?"

Shifting, I lie on my stomach and look at the floral dress hanging on the door of my closet. "I found a dress that works and had fun with the girls. Overall a win."

"And did you get in trouble? For, you know..."

"Well, my mom definitely knew that I was out past curfew. But she was actually pretty cool about that. Although, if she knew what we were doing..." I trail off.

He fills in the blank. "She might not have been quite so cool."

I laugh. "Well, yeah. I guess no mom really wants to think about what her amazingly hot daughter was doing in the bed of -"

He cuts me off. "Ro, maybe we should stop talking about this? I'm driving here. Don't want to get into an accident."

"What, don't you want to talk about how hot I am? You seemed to want to talk about it last night." I sing-song my words, teasing him.

I did get quite the earful on the car ride home to Em's (while Edward and Bella did their very best to not listen from the front seat) about how sexy I was and (in great detail) how he wanted to touch me and where and with what. Not that I was complaining, although I'm sure Edward and Bella weren't thrilled to witness it. They muttered "earmuffs" to each other before turning up the radio.

So he lowered his voice and moved his mouth closer to my ear, whispering the words instead, hot and lingering. And then he put them into action as soon as we got to his room.

My cheeks go warm just thinking about it, about what we did and how much I wanted to be with him, and not just with mouths and hands. I wanted to be closer, to have him in every way, but we were both pretty drunk. Plus, Gram was sleeping in the next room and he breathed into my neck that he wanted to wait, even though his body said something else.

"That was the Beast talking," he says. I can hear the smile in his voice.

I snort and then cover my mouth at the very un-Rosalie-like noise. "Oh, is that what you're calling it now?"

He groans my name. "Seriously, I'm going to have to stop the car right now if you keep talking like that."

Like I'd protest.

"Anyway! When I got back from shopping, she spent an hour looking at some of my pictures and we talked about the possibility of taking a photography class at Peninsula College." I stop, making a dramatic pause.

"And? Don't leave me hanging here, Hale," he demands.

"And it sounds like it really might happen. Esme was talking to her last night and telling her about the Etsy shoot, so I showed her those and the paper from last week. She's still back and forth, but I'm pretty sure I'm golden, as long as my grades stay where they're at."

"Good stuff, Ro," he says, his voice infused with warmth.

"Seriously. And, while she was looking at the Etsy pictures, she came across the ones of us."

"Oh yeah, and how'd that go?" He's trying so hard to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.

"She was very taken with you last night, actually. Talking to Es only clinched it. I think you're in."

Of course, that's not all she said. No, she went on and on about how polite he was, getting out of the car and introducing himself. And how she heard him compliment me.

Then, of course, she asked why I was going to Homecoming with Edward instead of Emmett. Rather than rehashing all the details, I shrugged and said it was too late to go with Em. I got a look at that and I think she knew something else was going on, but she didn't say anything. Mostly, she just mentioned how I glowed when I talked about him. She also kept pointing at the pictures, saying, "You're happy."

I really am.

"Yep, I'm totally down with the moms." Emmett's fake-modest sigh crackles down the line. "I've got that special something."

"You're special, all right."

God, he really is.

He's quiet for a second and there's a rustle, then the gentle click of his blinker. "So, call you later? I've got to take care of a couple things right now."

"Okay," I say reluctantly, drawing out the word. "I guess I should get started on my Calc homework."

His soft chuckle echoes in my ear. "You sure do know how to have a good time, Hale."

"I did last night," I shoot back. I love that we can talk about it, tease one another after the fact.

"Yeah, you did," he says in that low voice that makes me shiver.

We say our goodbyes and then I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling, my phone resting on my stomach. I wonder what's going to happen at school tomorrow, if we'll get to see each other. I wish I could've gotten in one more kiss last night, something to hold me over until next time. I know he'll be busy with practice this week and Jess and Lauren will be completely overbearing about all things Homecoming, so the chances of getting any kind of quality time are slim.

It's also spirit week, and while we never participate for any of the dress-up days except for Friday's school colors day, they still get wrapped up in it. I remember when I did, too. The first year was so exciting; there was so much to take in. All of the festivities felt huge, important, so new, and Jess, Lauren and I ate it up. Of course, over the past four years, the shine has worn off of our high school experience. I guess that's how it works, though. Eventually the rose-colored glasses have to come off.

The sound of the doorbell echoes up the stairs. I prop myself up on my elbows, frowning toward the doorway.

When I hear a deep, smooth voice mixing with my mom's higher, lilting one, I'm off the bed before it even sinks in that the voice belongs to Emmett. I get to the top of the stairs as he's climbing the first few, smiling over his shoulder at my mom, who's standing in the foyer with Eric at her feet. He's staring at Emmett, his tail wagging maniacally, and my mom is wearing a smile that almost matches Emmett's in width.

No one can resist the dimples. Least of all the Hale women, apparently.

"Emmett's here, sweetie," she says unnecessarily.

"Yeah, I see that." I raise my eyebrows at him as he takes the rest of the stairs two at a time. He's wearing his usual hoodie and jeans, but no hat. His hair curls around his ears and his smile turns sweet and familiar when he looks at me, spreading warmth across my chest.

I hold out my hand and he takes it, weaving his fingers through mine. His skin is cold from outside, but his touch is hot.

"Keep the door open," my mom calls.

"Thanks, Mom," I grumble back, gently yanking Emmett toward my room. I glare playfully at him when he chuckles behind me.

As soon as we're past the threshold, I nudge the door almost all the way closed with my foot, and then turn on my heel, coming face-to-chest with Emmett. He places a light hand on my hip and I lean into him, resting my cheek right over his heart, which beats strong and steady.

I have a new fascination with his hands; they're big and warm and perfectly fit the curves of my body. Right now they're moving up and down my sides, making me tingly, dizzy.

"What are you doing here?" I murmur, tilting my head back so he can place a kiss on my mouth. His lips are soft and smiling.

"I told you I had a couple things to take care of."

"Like what?"

"Like seeing you," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. His eyes dart downward and he kisses me again, lingering this time. "And kissing you."

"In that case, I have a couple things I have to do, too," I reply. His laugh is a low rumble in his chest, but he sighs when my mouth coerces his open. I press against him, letting all of my weight rest against his body. He holds me at the waist, letting his other hand drift to the back of my neck.

"Your mom's downstairs," he whispers when we pause for breath. His muscles are tense underneath my hands and I can't tell if it's from holding himself back or from wanting this as much as I do.

"So?"

"So, I'm not trying to go back downstairs with a boner. I just stopped by to say hi real quick because I know this week is going to be..." He pauses, smiling wryly. "Crazy. I need to get home to Gram in a few."

"Okay," I say, kissing the cupid's bow of his top lip. "So, hi."

"Hi," he replies with an indulgent smile before gently pushing at my hips and backing away. Letting out a long breath, he wanders away before stopping short in front of my closet. "Hey, is this your dress?"

I nod and he looks at me over his shoulder, his eyes moving over me from head to toe like he's imagining me in it. He smiles, this quiet one that makes me feel sad and hopeful at the same time. "You're going to look beautiful," he says.

I swallow, wave my hand to bring him back, and he does. His arms are open before he gets to me. I melt into him.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be." I feel him shrug. "But listen, this is your life, not theirs, you know? If they're your real friends, they'll be happy for you. If not…"

He doesn't finish the thought, but he doesn't have to. If not, then they're not really your friends. But they have been, even though they're not perfect. I'm not either. None of us are.

But when he kisses me, it is and I forget about everything else, just for now.

xoxo

Everyone is all atwitter about Homecoming at school the entire week before. It's all anyone can talk about, Jess and Lauren most of all.

After Homecoming is all I can think about. I'm already rehearsing how I'll tell Jess and Lauren about Emmett, what exactly I'll say. I don't know how I'll be able to spin the fact that we've been hanging out for weeks and I've failed to mention it despite having plenty of opportunities to do so. I know they're going to be pissed about that, Lauren especially. She's the dramatic one of the three of us, the one who'll blow up a situation if it gives her the chance to get bitchy.

But even though there's still a part of me that's nervous for what will probably be a really uncomfortable conversation, I do feel stronger. Standing up to Jake at the rez and showing my mom my pictures and talking about Emmett, showing her these things that really matter, makes me feel like a truer version of myself. I feel like I'm peeling back the false layers I've been hiding under, showing my real skin.

Or at least some of it. To some people. But it's something.

As predicted, the week is crazy, but at least it's going fast. Wednesday's spirit week theme is Blast from the Past, so I wear a flapper headband, doing my part to represent the 1920s. Lauren is decked out in a sexy fringe dress with a feathered boa draped around her neck; she's actually been surprisingly more into spirit week than I expected her to be. But she points out that she should be, since she's the captain of the cheerleading squad.

"Plus, maybe it will get me some extra votes for Homecoming. Not that I expect to win, since you have it in the bag and we all know I'm the 'resident bitch' here." She says it with a note of regret, perhaps wishing she weren't. I wonder if we all aren't beginning to search for that something greater, something more."But you know, if you aren't able to perform your Queenly duties -"

"What the hell are 'Queenly duties'? This isn't Miss America. And wait a second, what do you - why wouldn't I be able to perform my - " I'm sputtering, all indignant. Lauren smiles at my reaction. "Anyway, I don't know why you think I've got this. Really. It's not like I'm any better. I'm pretty sure that I've got the same sort of reputation." I say this to comfort her, but also pointing out the obvious. People have called me a bitch when they thought I couldn't hear them, for god's sake.

"The difference, Posie, is that you're just quiet with people you don't know. You're not actually a bitch, just misunderstood. I think more and more people are realizing that." She slings her arm around my shoulder as we walk toward to English. Jess is missing from our trio, off somewhere doing something with Mike. We try not to ask questions.

Well, that's a lie. We ask questions and we're pretty annoying about it. She just chooses to ignore us.

Lauren continues on. "Whereas I... well, I've not always been the nicest. And some of it was very intentional on my part."

I raise an eyebrow, but say nothing, waiting for her to 'fess up.

"Okay, fine. Most of it was very intentional on my part." She's quiet for a moment, which is rare for her. "But it's time for a change! To quote The Lion King, 'You got to put your past behind you.' I think I'm going to make my New Year's resolution to try being nice."

"If only people knew that the resident bitch was watching The Lion King," I remark dryly. "And might I remind you that it's October. Are you going to hold off until January?"

"Semantics, Posie." She waves her hand in the air. "I can totally do this now."

Edward materializes by Lauren's side, slinging his arm over her shoulder so that we're three across. "Ro, Mallo."

"Edward! Great to see you, buddy. I was just saying the other day how I miss hanging out with you," Lauren says with a smile.

Well, that's certainly an interesting spin on what she was saying.

She gives me a look that says see how nice I am? I give her a tight-lipped smile and a thumbs up. Meanwhile, Edward is looking at us with exaggerated alarm.

"Mallo, you feeling okay? Sick? Under the weather?"

I chime in. "Oh, she's fine. She's trying out a concept that's new to her. It's called niceness."

"Niceness," Edward says it slowly, like he's trying it out for the first time. "Hmm, you know, I think that this concept has been around for quite some time."

Lauren is actually a good sport about our teasing, so I guess her resolution is already working. "You're my first test subject, Edward. Don't worry, it won't be like the time I tackled you on the playground so I could plant one on you."

Edward had been Lauren's first crush, much to his chagrin. He was still in the 'girls have cooties' stage when she quite literally pounced on him, sitting on his chest and making a spectacle of them both when she kissed him. It was all our little seven-year-old selves could talk about for days. Of course, Edward had been my first real kiss too, but neither of us were going to mention that fact.

"So, are you excited for the dance?" Lauren asks. "Think you'll join us at Mike's afterward?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away from the dance but..." He and I exchange a look behind Lauren's head. "We'll see what's going on with Mike's. Not sure yet. Actually, Ro, I was wondering if you could pick up the tickets after school. I've got to track down Clapp about a project."

Lauren answers for me. "That's not a problem, Jess and I are grabbing our tickets then, too."

"Guess that's settled," I say as we near the classroom.

"And hey, I really am glad that you're coming to the dance with Rosalie. It will be cool to hang out together again, you know?" She actually sounds sincere.

"You know, we can hang out together other times," Edward mentions, a bit flippant. It's not like the group ever really welcomed Bella with open arms, but maybe it doesn't have to be that way. Actually, there's no maybe about it. It wouldn't take much.

She doesn't address that, just continues chatting. When we reach our classroom, the three of us enter together, though Lauren has to drop her arm from my shoulder so we can fit through the doorway. Jess is already there, her head resting on the desk, but she perks up when we walk in. Her eyes widen surprise at the sight of Edward's arm around Lauren, but then she smiles and gets up to join us.

The four of us stand around, talking idly before class begins. The conversation is nothing special but the act alone gives me hope. It makes me think that maybe, just maybe, all my worrying is for nothing.

Of course, I backpedal just a moment after that thought. The door swings open again and Bella and Emmett walk in. Her head is down and she's doodling in the purple Moleskine I gave her. Emmett has his hands on her shoulders, steering her so she doesn't bump into anyone. I'm unreasonably jealous, wishing that he were touching me. Our eyes meet and he mouths "dirty little secrets" while his eyes flick from the notebook to Edward and then back to me. My hand creeps to my mouth, where I simultaneously hide my smile and tap my bottom lip.

They stop right in front of us. Edward's arm slides off Lauren's shoulders as he moves to Bella's side. She murmurs hello quietly and Emmett does the same, though it feels like it's directed at me. I expect Lauren and Jess to say hello, or something, but instead they give their little Mona Lisa smiles. Then they leave me standing there as they move back to our seats.

I guess niceness only goes so far. And I guess I better get back to rehearsing.

Edward raises his eyebrows as he slings an arm around Bella's shoulders, pulling her close. They make their way back to the back of the room, Emmett trailing behind them.

"Sorry," I mouth to him. I can hear Jess and Lauren talking in low voices behind me. I wish I could pick up my books and follow Emmett instead.

His gaze darts past me and then our eyes meet again. "Surprised?" he murmurs as he brushes past, his fingers resting on my hip for a split second.

I wish I could say that I am. I wish that Lauren's niceness extended beyond the people she knows and likes. I wish I'd been honest from the start; that I'd told them even before I broke up with Roy that I was changing, that I wanted to change. And most of all, I wish I knew for sure they'd accept me no matter what.

But I don't know that. I'm not surprised by Lauren and Jess' attitude, because well, that's who they are. That's who they've always been.

Notes are passed as usual, but I concentrate on Berty's lesson. I don't even try to hide my annoyance with them, which they either don't notice or choose to ignore. Knowing them, it's the latter.

The rest of the day flies. By the time I catch up with Jess and Lauren at my locker after the last bell, my temper has cooled a bit. I have to remind myself yet again that even though their attitude sucks, they don't know what Emmett means to me. They don't know to try.

Yet.

"Ticket time?" Jess asks.

"Let's do it," Lauren answers for me. She claps her hands, all no-nonsense. "I'm getting my roots done in an hour."

My eyes automatically drift over to Emmett's locker. He's not there. The practical part of me knows that we'll talk later tonight and I shouldn't be disappointed, but my chest tightens with it anyway. This week, these little glimpses are probably all I'm going to have. I'm feeling greedy to see him as much as possible.

While we make our way to the ticket table set up outside the main office, Jess and Lauren talk about the timeline for Saturday. I can - and do - recite in my mind exactly what the festivities will be, because this is how it always goes: after I get ready, I'll head over to Lauren's house with my parents for pictures with her and Jess. The boys will arrive soon thereafter; then there will be more pictures and general parental embarrassment that includes going on and on (and on) about how great we all look.

But when they start talking about post-dance festivities, their voices raise in excitement. I slide into the end of the ticket line, listening to them go on about how, as tradition dictates, we'll stop at Forks Coffee Shop for milkshakes. Lauren loves this part the most, I think, because the other students there stare at us while the older patrons exclaim over how pretty we look and how handsome the boys are in their suits. Then it'll be off to Mike's house for drinking and dancing and more drinking.

I can tell the sophomore girls in front of us are listening in. God, they look so young. I catch the wistful glance they exchange. They want to go so badly, but all I can think about is how I'm going to ditch the dance early, figuring out how I can be with Emmett instead of at Mike's. It's going to be nearly impossible, seeing as how I've always been there. Then again, I've always been with Roy.

Things change, though, and so have I.

Something brushes against my arm; when I turn to my right, I'm staring up into Roy's black-brown eyes. They jar me more now than they ever did before, maybe because I'm so used to clear blue, to little smile lines at the corners.

Roy's smiling, too, but it's just a small upturn of his mouth. It doesn't reach his eyes.

"Uh, hey, Roy," Jess says, looking quickly at me. Lauren throws him a thin smile, playing with the end of her ponytail.

"Hey, Jess, Lauren," he replies. He turns, taking another step toward me. Too close. I step back instinctively and his eyes narrow slightly. "Pose."

My spine tightens at the nickname. There's something about the way he says it that makes me feel like I'm that girl again, like I'm the Rosalie he thinks he knows.

"What's up? Are you picking your tickets up, too?" I can tell Jess is trying to diffuse the obvious tension in the air. Lauren's eyes dart between Roy and me like she's watching a tennis match.

"Not yet. Things are kind of...whatever." Roy shrugs, looking sideways at me. "Heard you're going with Cullen?"

I nod shortly. The sophomore girls in front of us get their tickets and Jess and Lauren hurry to the front, extricating themselves from what is turning into a really awkward situation.

"This feels really fucking weird, Rosalie," he says, his voice lowering. I wish he'd called me Pose again or Posie, or something other than my real name, because it sounds so strange coming from his mouth. So not right. I press my hand against the back pocket of my jeans, where my phone is, and stay silent. He sighs sharply. "Say something."

"Like what? We broke up, Roy. You're going to Homecoming with Vera. I'm going with Edward. I know it's different, but..." I stop and shrug. I don't want to be mean, but Jesus, I don't know how else to explain that this is over.

"It's just..." he trails off, turning so that he's facing me fully. He looms over me, shielding us from everyone else. "We're supposed to be doing all of this shit together."

I stare at him, shocked. Roy isn't the type to just come out and say things like that. He's never been comfortable with sharing emotions, particularly when they show his vulnerability. For some reason, it makes me sad that he's showing it to me now, when it's too late.

"No," I reply quietly. "We're not. Not anymore."

His jaw flexes, his eyes going to some point past my shoulder. "I don't believe that."

"Posie, it's your turn." Lauren peeks around Roy's shoulder, her eyes wide. I wonder how much she heard. I hope, more for Roy's sake than mine, that it stayed just between us. "Ready?"

More than ready.

"I have to go," I say, not meeting his eyes as I step to the side to get around him.

"Fine, later," he mumbles, and stalks off.

Lauren and Jess watch him walk away, eyebrows raised, but don't say anything while I get the tickets. They stay quiet as we push through the front doors and get outside. The air is damp with the promise of rain. It always rains for Homecoming, and it looks like this year won't be any different.

Lauren is the first one to break the silence. She weaves her arm through Jess's and then mine. With a bright smile, she says, "Well, Saturday's going to be interesting, isn't it?"

Jess laughs, but I just shake my head and reply sarcastically, "I can't wait."

Can you wait? Homecoming is looming, friends. Many things are looming, in fact! Lots of stuff coming up (they say, as they rub their hands in evil delight).

Jan, Val and JD keep us sane(ish), and we love them. And as always, thank you all for being truly the loveliest bunch of readers anyone has ever had, ever. We're not exaggerating! You've made this experience just ridiculously fun for us and we like you a whole, whole lot.

Drop us a line and say hello! We're really chatty and would love to hear from you. Plus, you get a teaser out of the deal. Not a bad trade.

Rebecca Black never confirmed it, but we're pretty sure Monday comes after Sunday, so we'll see you then! Have a wonderful weekend, friends.