August 9, 1955

I heard the alarm clock trill for a brief second and turned my head. A white hand pushed it off the table before I could reach it. The poor thing gave a final death rattle and shuddered into silence.

"That was an overreaction."

"It's too loud," he complained. "Why do you need it?"

He sounded so crotchety I had to laugh. "I won't wake up without it."

Edward was sitting in the same spot as the night before. The sketchbook was open against his chest, and a small bit of charcoal stained his fingers. The page I fell asleep next to was full of birds and shooting stars.

"I miss sleep," he mused, watching me tumble out of bed and head for the bathroom. "It seems so restful."

"It can be."

Last night had not been restful, though. We talked for hours—our routine by now—until I couldn't keep my eyes open. Despite the peaceful atmosphere of our room, my childhood nightmare had come back.

It was my first trip through time. With Renee's screaming and the squealing brakes of the car ringing in my ears, I landed in a pile of snow. It immediately chilled me to the bone. In my hazy recollection of that day, I remembered the dark shadows as far as the eye could see. One of them, tall as a tree, seemed to reach for me. My cry of terror had been lost in the wind.

"Something wrong?"

I shook my head. "So, what's the plan for today?"

"It's overcast," Edward said, peering outside. "We can go for a drive."

I flounced to the closet in excitement. I never thought I'd see the day that overcast skies would win over sunny days. I pulled my pajamas over my head and stood there looking for something to wear.

I sensed that his eyes on me. His gaze lingered when I turned to look, and a charged moment passed before he looked away. I fought back a pang of disappointment and turned back to the closet.

The attraction between us had bloomed over the summer months. I never imagined having a connection like this. We spent the hot haze of summer in the shadows of the park, in his car, even in the empty school classrooms. Every place was open for our exploration.

His kisses were a cool relief to the heat, but he always stopped before went too far.

I understood that Edward only wanted to protect me. Though I wasn't comfortable comparing myself to food, I envisioned his desire for my blood like a dieter's for a cookie. Tempting for twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. But in the moments when we were tangled together, kissing as like it was the last time (a real possibility), it was difficult to ignore the obvious physical signs that we wanted each other.

I sighed deeply and found a dress for the day. Then I spun to face Edward; he smiled. "Very pretty."

"Can I drive your car?"

"The last time you drove it, you nearly backed into a tree."

I scowled. "I know how to drive."

"I know you do."

"The cars are a lot easier to drive where I'm from," I insisted, pushing his sketchbook away from his lap. His teasing expression disappeared as I clamored over him. In a flash, I was pressed against the mattress, the keys locked between our fingers.

It was a moment before I could compose myself. "If this was your game all along, I wouldn't have changed."

The eye roll I expected didn't come. He simply watched me for a moment, listening the quickened pace of my heart. Studying the flush that bloomed on my face. The way we fit together, arms and legs tangled up in knots. When we were like this, it was hard to comprehend his reasons for keeping our relationship the way it was. I knew—and felt—it was not an easy decision.

"Okay," Edward said finally. "You can drive it."

That's the last thing on my mind, I thought.

"I can be careful."

He grinned, then pulled the both of us off the bed. My words seemed to amuse him, because he smiled all the way out the door and into the car. His thoughts were as mysterious to me as mine were to him.

"Where should we go?"

Edward hung an arm out the window. "We can visit Carlisle at work."

I made the drive to the hospital here so much that I knew it by heart. Carlisle was scheduled for a break soon, and we found him reading the newspaper in the cafeteria. Before he could greet us, Edward raised an eyebrow.

"You want to move?"

Carlisle laughed. "At least let me broach the subject to you both!"

"Why do you want to move?"

Carlisle pushed his uneaten lunch in my direction. "We've been here for a few years. That, combined with the . . . added risk, it just makes sense to make a change."

It became clear just then that I was the added risk. I swallowed and let my eyes fall to the floor.

Edward pressed his hand to the small of my back. "What's the matter?"

"I hope I'm not making your lives more complicated," I murmured.

"Why would you think that?"

Why wouldn't I think that? I wanted to ask. Time travel made everything complicated. I couldn't meet their eyes.

"You all seem to have perfected the ability to blend in. My condition can be so . . . erratic. I'm making more trouble than I'm worth."

This time it was Carlisle who spoke up. "Absolutely not, Bella. We may be excellent at hiding who we are, but our strengths work together for the sake of the family. And you're one of us now."

Edward gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I always worried I was making Renee's life harder, and the thought of doing the same thing to the Cullens made me upset.

But I knew they were right; their abilities gave them great opportunities and advantages. I was flattered—and honored—that they were using them to protect me.

We sat in the cafeteria for some time after Carlisle returned to work. Though Edward couldn't read my thoughts, I believe he had become somewhat attuned to them. We sat in silence, my head on his shoulder, taking comfort in each other's company.

"We're moving, too," Rosalie told me later that night. I leaned against the wall with the phone pressed to my ear. They were in the process of packing up the New Hampshire house. When everything was sorted out, the two would join us in Hoquiam, Washington.

"Carlisle and Esme want me to enroll in school with Edward," I sighed, knowing they could hear me.

Rosalie laughed. "You sound thrilled."

"I'm an expert at this, Rose. Doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

"She just doesn't want to wear a uniform!" Edward called from the living room.

"Uniform? Are we doing Catholic school again?"

"Not if I can help it," I groaned.

"Emmett likes Catholic school," she said with a laugh. I imagined her twirling the telephone cord around her fingers. "He thinks the nuns are a hoot."

"I can assure him that they are not."

"Oh, I know that. But he's an instigator," she said.

I heard him laughing in the background. It figured that Emmett would enjoy Catholic school and bothering the nuns. He was the class clown if I had ever seen one. After his wife's comment, Emmett demanded to tell me all about his Sunday school past. His great aunt had been a nun, and was often left with the duty of watching Emmett and his siblings. Small wonder that he enjoyed irritating them so much.

"What are you thinking about?"

It was past midnight and I couldn't sleep. The humidity had returned, and I found myself restless and hopelessly awake. Edward pressed a hand to my face and neck, cooling me with his touch.

"My dad, actually," I said, moving his hand to my cheek. "He was born in Washington."

"Did your father ever mention any people in his family that share your condition?"

I sat up. "No, why?"

"I've thought for some time that your condition is hereditary. Maybe we can expand our research in Washington."

I didn't know too much about either side of my family. It was worth a shot. Perhaps state records about the Swans could give us a clue.

With their vast capital and resources, moving only took several days for the Cullens. We bid farewell to Vermont and swiftly set up a place in Hoquiam. I studied the map as we drove, tracing my finger from Hoquiam to Forks. Just two hours to the north, my grandparents were living their lives with no inkling that Charlie was going to be a part of it. They had been in their forties when he was born, making my dad a huge but welcome surprise. My dad and I had that in common—surprising our parents.

Geoffrey and Helen Swan. They died when I was a baby, so I had no personal memories of them. I had seen the two from a distance in my visits to Charlie's past, but never dared to approach them. It had always been a temptation, because I never had a chance to get to know them.

It was an even greater temptation now, with the suggestion that my condition was inherited.

"Something wrong?"

Edward was watching me. He never needed to look at the road as he drove, a fact that always freaked me out. He must have been watching for a few minutes. I shook my head quickly.

"Just . . . uh . . . Aberdeen. It's very close."

"Do you know anyone there?"

"Well, no. I mean, Kurt Cobain is from there. But I don't know him personally."

"Who's that?"

"You'll see."

He laughed. "If not being able to read your mind wasn't frustrating enough, it's the fact that you know so much about the future. And that you won't share any of it."

"Well, that'd be cheating," I grinned, but there was a more serious reason for it: I did not want to influence the future. In my present, history was set in stone; in his, some things were still unfolding.

"You have a strange code of honor, Bella Swan."

"So do you," I mumbled, eyeing the shirt buttons he left open. His collarbone was glinting faintly in the sunlight.

His eyes flashed to me again. I kept mine on the road.

I felt like the tension between us was only going to grow. His fear of hurting me was a valid one, but I lived a dangerous lifestyle anyway. He said once that I was intelligent—but not enough, as I seemed to gravitate toward the vampires.

Was seeking danger something that I did, or did it always find me?

It was a question I knew could not be answered.

To my relief, Carlisle and Esme suggested we enroll in the public high school instead. I didn't have anything against religious institutions. I avoided them mainly because they reminded me of Renee and her past dalliance with church.

And that despite my newfound family and happiness, I couldn't forget I had a life back in 2005. I thought about my mother, Charlie, and Phil all the time.

I couldn't believe that in one lifetime I was actually living two.

"I suppose this is good practice," I mused as we walked, hand-in-hand, toward our school in September. "I'm going to be be doing it again soon."

"Do you ever find yourself inventing a history just to see what people will say?"

"Oh yeah, of course," I exclaimed. It was another thing we had in common—being the new kids again and again. "Although one sort of invented itself when I showed up in the janitor's closet with the slip I was wearing in Scotland."

Several students had already noticed us, but Edward paid them no mind. "One time I said that Carlisle, Esme, and I were part of the English Royal Family. I told everyone that we had to live in America in secret because we were too close to the throne."

I burst out into laughter. Edward joined me, ducking his head. In a funny way, I thought he was embarrassed about it. But in my mind, it was one of the greatest things he ever said to me. He was as goofy as he always had been. The same goofy kid I met in Chicago.

I paused to wrinkle my nose at that. Equating Edward Cullen and Edward Masen was too icky to imagine.

He bent to whisper in my ear. "Some of them already know we live in the same house."

Speaking of icky. "Scandal."

"Esme told some mothers in the neighborhood that you're her goddaughter from Arizona."

"Bringing my wanton ways to Washington, no doubt."

"Would this sort of thing be an issue in your time?"

"Kind of," I murmured, watching the many sets of eyes lingering on us. "If Carlisle adopted me, I guess."

"I suppose we won't be invited to the dances here."

"Not an issue in my book," I said as we reached the main office. He tugged my ponytail and smirked.

The receptionist's eyes widened behind her bifocals as we said our names, but I was too busy thinking about this process. I realized this was the first time I had ever moved to a new school with a friend.

More than a friend—a boyfriend.

I frowned. The term boyfriend was a big deal for Joey, Dawson, and Pacey. It seemed to casual a word for what Edward was to me.

"Separate homerooms," he groaned.

"You're taking this school thing way too seriously."

"Let me put it this way," Edward said, pulling me forward by my collar. "The faster we get through the day, the faster we can spend time together."

"Or," I said hopefully. "We can skip school."

Grinning, he handed me the schedule, turned me toward my classroom, and walked in the other direction. I grumbled curses under my breath, knowing he could hear what I was saying. He had been joking about setting up a swear jar for me; after today, I was going to fill it up.

After I found my seat in homeroom, I doodled in my notebook. It was all I could to do to ignore the whispers behind me.

I was used to that. They were wondering who I was and where I was from. But this time, there was judgement in their eyes and words. Wondering if Edward and I were related, if we were sleeping together, or if we were related and sleeping with each other.

I had to remember this was not my time. It was a much more conservative era, and our living situation was not going to make us popular. But even knowing this . . . the whispering still hurt.

I glowered at him for most of lunch, then ignored him through our two shared classes. Finally, when the last class was dismissed, I hurried past Edward to the driver's seat and sat there, fuming. It was a moment before he spoke.

"That was . . . terrible."

"You're telling me," I said briskly, pulling out of the parking lot. Not for the first time, he looked nervous to have me behind the wheel.

"Can you please slow down?"

I scoffed at that. Said the vampire with freaky senses who never looked at the road.

I didn't stop driving until we were past the city limits. He exhaled loudly as I shut off the car and pulled over. We didn't speak for several minutes.

"Maybe Carlisle can arrange for us to have the same classes."

I glared at him. "No."

"Bella, I would rather spend time with you than go to any stuffy school. But if we want to live the way we do, sometimes we have to participate in human experiences."

I knew he was right. It wasn't school I minded—it was the students there. I hated the thought of other people judging our relationship. Our time together was so limited . . . I didn't like that so much of it would be spent being observed by others.

Sighing, I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid over to his side. He didn't protest as I climbed over him. To my surprise, his hands moved to my hips.

I could feel the chuckle that reverberated through his chest at my ragged breath. I sensed he was trying to take my mind off school. I wasn't about to protest.

He kissed me—finally—and I focused only on that for a long time.

Time slowed to a crawl. I could see my breath fogging up the windows, something that might have embarrassed me if I wasn't so distracted. Edward pulled away to let me breathe for a moment.

His eyes were dark. I watched them close as I bent to kiss his neck. "Have I changed your mind about school yet?"

I took delight in the slight quaver in his voice. "If this is the way you reward me, sure."

He pulled back to stare at me. I could see something shifting in his eyes. His stance on our physical relationship seemed thinner than a flower petal at this moment.

Before I could speak, he sat up straight. If he was a dog, his ears would have been pulled straight back.

"Edward? What's wrong—"

"Shhh," he hissed, pressing a hand to my mouth. I puffed up my shoulders to protest, but in a flash, he deposited me in his seat and slipped out of the car.

"What are you doing?"

"I heard something in the woods," he whispered. "Stay here."

I was too frightened to disagree. Stiff and cold now in the passenger seat, I peered through the windshield. We had been out for much longer than I realized; the sky had grown dark. Even the road was deserted.

Edward had disappeared into the trees in hot pursuit of someone. Something. What could scare him like that?

I called his name and waited. Nothing.

This was how bad horror movies started. The girl always sat waiting for the boy to come back, not realizing he was dead the moment he left her.

I winced at the pain of that thought. It was agonizing to imagine Edward gone.

I stumbled out of the car and gazed through the trees. I tried his name again, and this time something answered.

It was a ferocious growl. I shuddered. That sound was darker and more chilling than anything I had ever heard. I felt myself trembling against the car door.

The pull through time came so quickly I gasped. I had not felt it in months. My anxiety level was through the roof—small wonder I was about to travel.

I called for Edward a third time, but before he could return, I was gone.

A/N: Happy Veteran's Day, everyone!

The awesome Tarbecca recommended Number Our Days over at ADifferentForest. THANK YOU. The reviews and readership are exploding right now and I'm over the moon about it. I'm so flattered by the responses to my story. It's such a pleasure for me to read what people think of it!

Thanks everyone, and have a great week!