Previously…

For once, Rose spoke for Alice instead of the other way round. "Alice thinks that I should ask that douchebag McCarty to Tyler's party with me. Which is retarded. Not only is he a complete asshole, but you don't just ask guys to house parties."

"No," I agreed, shooting a blatent look at Alice in the rear view window.

She huffed, her big eyes narrowing into slits. "Come on! I apologised for that already!"

"I know," I muttered, falling back into my own thoughts as Alice tried to point out to Rose that the McCarty kid was the dark-haired, muscled ying to her blonde-haired, goddess-figured yang.

While they did that, I wished. I wished that I could tell Alice that I was only a moody bastard because it was easier to pretend to be angry than admit that I was hurt. I wished that it wasn't the people I loved that got the brunt of my moods. I wished that I had tried harder to prevent Tanya's murder.

But some wishes are just downright impossible.

"Giving up doesn't always mean you are weak; sometimes it means that you are strong enough to let go." – Author Unknown

Taking Chances

Chapter 5 – Mother-Daughter Time

Bella POV

The bunch of tiny stones hitting the wall sounded like rain on a sheet of corrugated iron. Or just a sheet of metal. Who cared about specifics?

I reached into the gravel and dug my fist around another handful, throwing that at the wall even harder. It bounced off with the same noise and scattered across the grass. I lifted my hand and wiped my streaming eyes with the back of my hand.

How very fucking dare he.

"Ugh!" I exclaimed as I threw another handful of gravel. I missed the little wall that stuck up out of the grass this time, the gravel flying clean over the top. I was sat in the woods a short walk away from our house.

I had walked right out of school after the disastrous English lesson; I couldn't bear to look at his face after that, and we still had to attend two lessons together, even if they were hours later. I was so angry that I just couldn't stick around any longer. So I had bolted. And I didn't want to sit alone in the house that had never really become a home to me, so I had come to where I always did when I needed to think, or cry, or whatever; the woods that Dad had brought me to when I was a little girl. I sat on a mound of moss a few metres away from the brook that we used to catch minute fish in with little, brightly-coloured nets, throwing fistfuls of gravel at a little wall that rose out of the ground, left behind from years ago. Who knew what the wall had been? Perhaps a little house, maybe a well. But, again, who cared about specifics?

I sniffed loudly and attempted again to control my tears. But they still flowed thick and fast, gushing down my cheeks like a waterfall. I knew why Edward's words had me so riled. I wished that I didn't know why I had reacted so strongly to his argument, but I did. Oh, I did.

I could argue for my ideals until the cows came home but they would forever remain as ideals, never realistic situations. I could tell Edward Cullen how strongly I believed that people could choose when they lived and died as much as I wanted, but my beliefs would never make things true. And there he sat, in his casual designer labelled jeans, his books stacked neatly at right-angles, his strange yet somehow perfect hair sticking out in every conceivable direction, his green eyes alight with the excitement of our debate. There he sat shooting down my optimistic views, shooting down my hope and shooting down the shred of something I held onto; the something that told me to hang on to my life or I'd be missing out on something big.

Yeah. I acted all blasé about dying, I told Renée that I didn't care about dying, I told the doctors to stop with the intense chemo after the fourth remission… but really I was fucking terrified. I didn't want to die. Not really. No matter what I said about wanting to be squished on Jasper's bike. Really, I was just as scared as anyone else would be. And I hated it when people reminded me of my insecurities. Especially designer-clothed, obsessive-compulsive, sexy-haired Greek gods. I hadn't felt like this much of a naive child in years.

I was just so fucking confused about how to feel about everything. It hurt my head to think about it.

Suddenly, there was a noise behind me, and I felt a hand on my shoulder. I didn't try to hide that I was crying, or even try to stop. I didn't turn to see who it was either; I already knew.

Mom sat down beside me and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. I leant into her, letting my head fall onto her shoulders. Because, really, what was better for a naive child than her mother's hug? She held me for a long time, both arms around me, rocking me gently from side to side and making soothing noises in my ear.

Eventually, she said quietly, "Sweetie, it's okay. I'm sorry."

I gasped for breath a couple of times and then I shook my head and whispered, "No it's not. It's never okay, Mom." I looked up to see that she was crying as well, her mascara was running down her cheeks.

"Oh honey." She kissed my forehead and brushed some of my hair out of my face. "There are good days and bad days, you know that. This is just being a bit of a shitty day. It'll be over soon and then tomorrow will be better."

"But he was right, Mom," I said, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. "I will never be able to travel the world, or have five kids." I paused and then said, in a barely audible voice, "You'll never be able to have grandchildren."

"Never say never, honey. Never's an awful long time."

"I know." I sighed. "How did you know that I'd be here anyway?"

"Your school called my work. They told me that something happened in your English class and you walked out."

"I don't mean here. I mean… here." I gestured around the woods.

A little smile hovered on my mom's lips. "I didn't know that you'd be here. But you weren't at home, so I hoped that you would be. And you were."

I nodded. I was silent for a while, listening to the sound of the water rushing past in the brook.

"You know," Renée said suddenly, "your dad used to like coming down here, too. This exact spot."

I smiled a little. "When?"

She shrugged. "Whenever. He came here when I told him I was pregnant. I was just a couple of years older than you. I told him and he ran here. I followed him and he was just sat here, crying. When I told him that I was sorry, he looked at me like I was mad. He told me not to be sorry, that it was brilliant news. He said that we should do things the right way. Then he proposed to me. 'Marry me, Renée' he said. 'Marry me, and everything will be just fine.'" My mother smiled, memories dancing in her eyes. Then, she turned back to me. "And you know what?"

"What?"

"It was. It was better than fine. Your father was a man of his word, Bella. And maybe I'm not always right, but everything will be fine in the end, just like he said. If everything's not fine, then it's not the end."

Fresh tears dribbled down my cheeks. "When is the end Mom?" I asked in a whisper. "I'm so tired of waiting for it."

Her face was damp with new tears, too. She squeezed my middle again. "I don't know, honey. I just don't know."

"I'm sorry about last night. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"I'm sorry I expected you to come back. I'm sorry that I always expect things of you." She hugs me even closer. "Ignore my expectations, Bella. You should always do what you feel comfortable doing. Never do something because I expect you to."

"I don't."

Mom laughs. "I know."

The conversation runs out, and we sit on the moss in silence. The same bit of moss that my parents got engaged on. I never knew that. We sit there, on this bit of moss, linked and silent. We sit there, waiting for the end, and the fineness that would come with it.

#x#

I called Jasper at lunchtime because I knew that he would be wondering where I had been in Spanish. I told him that I was sick and he asked what had happened with Cullen earlier in English because, apparently, the news had gone around the whole school. I told him that it was nothing, we had just had a disagreement and I snapped at him because I felt ill. I didn't know why I defended Cullen, I just felt like I should. After all, he wasn't to know that I was going through something like that, as he had put it.

I spent the afternoon reading, losing myself in turn-of-the-century England. When I had finished reading Pride and Prejudice for the bazillionth time, I lay on my back on my bed wondering what England was really like. I wished that I would be able to go to London one day. But that was just another of those stupid wishes that would never come true, no matter how hard I wished.

Then I did something I hadn't done in a while; I went and cooked dinner with Renée again. Stirring the sauce to go over the nachos in the pan sent me back to when I was young and danced around the kitchen gathering ingredients for my mom.

Phil was working late that evening so Mom and I ate alone, just the two of us. It was nice. Mom said that they were the best nachos she had ever had.

I opened my birthday presents after dinner. I got a bunch of new clothes – Renée had found a lot of really nice long-sleeved tops – and a little basket. When I opened that, I glanced up at my mom in confusion. "What?"

She smiled. "We thought that it was time to get you a little companion. Not a dog because you know how I feel about walking, and the smell, but… here." She handed me a little photo.

I took the photo between my fingers and looked down at it. It was a photo of a tiny, adorable, fluffy black kitten. I felt the corners of my mouth turn up at the bewildered expression on the cat's face. "He's so cute!" I said, touching my finger to the paper.

"I know, isn't he just?" Renée cooed. "We can go pick him up this weekend. You need to think of a name for him, though."

I mulled it over for a second. "Max," I said.

Mom laughed. "You don't have to name him right now."

"No, I want to call him Max. It looks like it should be his name."

She ruffled my hair. "Whatever makes you happy."

I smiled up at her, looking into her light blue eyes at the temporary happiness that had appeared because of my delight at the present. "It really does make me happy," I said softly. "Thanks, Mom."

She pulled me close for a hug and kissed my forehead like she did when I was a kid. "Anytime, honey."

I loved my new kitten (or the prospect of him), I really did. But, somehow, the material presents I had received didn't seem like much compared to the comforting she had given me that morning, and the time we had spent together in the evening.

I went to bed early then, which turned out to be just as well because I woke up at four o'clock in the morning with blood pouring from my nose, my pillow sticky with congealed red mess. I sighed and swung my legs out of bed, pinching my nose as I wandered through to the bathroom. Then I sat on the side of the bath, holding tissue to my face and sitting there, half asleep as I waited for it to stop.

It didn't.

Eventually, an hour and a half later, I realised that this wasn't one of those nose bleeds that would just go away. I got some more fresh tissue and went through to my mother's room. She was fast asleep, one leg draped over Phil, her mouth slightly open. I smiled slightly at her childlike way of sleeping.

"Mom," I said quietly. My voice sounded funny.

She stirred, but didn't wake.

"Mom!"

Her eyes opened and she squinted at me. "Bella? What's the matter?"

I gestured to my face. "It's happening again."

Mom sighed and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Okay. Give me a second and I'll take you to the hospital."

I nodded and went back to my room where I changed one-handedly into a pair of sweat pants and pulling my old gray hoodie over the vest top I had slept in. I looked a mess but I knew that Jazz and Em wouldn't give a damn when I got into school, so neither did I. If I ever got into school.

A while later, my clammy forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the passenger seat window as the early morning darkness flashed by on our way to Forks general hospital. My nose was still bleeding profusely, and Mom was still half-asleep.

Lucy, the early-morning receptionist, looked up when she came in, and a glimmer of recognition went through her eyes. "Hey there, Bella. Been picking your nose again?"

I rolled my eyes at her, but she knew that I was kidding. I liked Lucy. I liked her cheerfulness, and her teasing. It was much better than some other people who worked at the hospital; they knew what was wrong with me and danced awkwardly around me like leukaemia was contagious. Also, Lucy's younger sister, Callie, was one of my best friends. There were ten years between the two of them (Callie was the same age as me), and I had met Callie one day on the leukaemia ward two years ago. We had been in at the same time for a few blood transfusions and bone marrow shit and had become pretty good friends. Then, when she had had a relapse, and I hadn't, she had stayed in contact with me; she visited me in the hospital when I was there over a weekend or school holiday and brought gifts and talked to me on the phone. She was one of the few people who could make me laugh when I was having treatment.

Then I had had a relapse as well; my third in three years. For a few weeks we saw each other at weekends and after school, but then Callie had gone back to the hospital when she went into her first remission. I skipped some school to be with her because I knew from experience how shit-scary it was to be told that the disease had come back. And also because I had little hope that I wouldn't experience another.

Callie was home-tutored so she didn't have to fit treatment around her studies as I had asked to; I hadn't wanted anyone at school to know about the cancer because I knew only too well what happened when everyone knew. So Callie had been in hospital all the time. I visited her a lot.

Then, almost a year after I had gone into my relapse I started finding bruises all over my body again. I went back to the hospital to confirm what I already knew; the cancer was winning again. It was like a fucking tennis rally. One minute I had the upper hand, the next this disease was in the lead. This time, though, I was tired of fighting so hard to win this match. I had wanted to give up and just have no treatment at all, but Mom had insisted that I at least have something. So the doctors had come up with a unique treatment involving pills and horrible injections and various other shit. But it meant that I didn't have to spend much time in the hospital. I had been on this regime for almost a year.

I still visited Callie, but she was having intense chemo and I felt guilty watching her fight for her life. No, not guilty. I felt weak. Like I had given up. So I started visiting less frequently but we were still good friends. I think that she understood how I felt, and that was why she wasn't offended by the new distance I had put between us.

But yeah. Callie was a good friend. She understood me, and I understood her. And Lucy understood for both of us.

Callie was still in the hospital, still having her intense chemo. The first bout of it hadn't worked too well so they were about to re-do it. She had been an inpatient for almost six months now and this repeat of the chemo would take at least another four months. I think that was why Lucy had taken up the weekday early-morning shift as well as her weekend afternoons; to be closer to Callie.

Lucy flipped her bob of white-blonde hair behind her ears and paged my doctor. "If you take a seat, Dr Gerandy will be along as soon as he can be," she said.

"Can we wait up in the ward?" I asked, trying to remember the last time I had spoken to Callie face-to-face. We had spoken on the phone the day before my birthday, but I hadn't seen her in weeks.

Lucy's lips twitched slightly. Then she sighed. "Technically, no, but I'm sure we can make an exception this one time."

"Thanks Luce." I beamed at her, but she probably couldn't see because of the damn tissue.

Mom followed me, still half-asleep, to the leukaemia ward. I stopped to ask a nurse that I recognised where Callie Macpherson was because they moved people around all of the time. But she was in the same place so I found her in no time.

Thankfully, she was awake. She was sat up in bed, reading a Biology textbook. I paused in the doorway, watching her. Callie was amazingly beautiful. Like really, really pretty. The most striking thing about her had been her auburn-brown hair, but since that had gone now because of the chemo her big brown eyes stood out. They skimmed the pages and I could tell that she wasn't really taking in what she was reading because she was biting her lip thoughtfully, meaning that her mind was in another place. Sometimes, Callie and I were too similar.

"Hey," I called lightly, walking over to her bedside.

She looked up and a huge smile lit up her face. "Bella. Why are you here so early?"

I gestured to my nose. "Blood pouring down my face, same old, same old."

"Same old," she repeated.

"How about you? How are you?"

Callie shrugged, shutting her book and putting it on the desk. "Alright. They start the chemo next Wednesday."

I cringed a little, remembering the pain. "Ouch."

"Yeah." She sighed. "But, hey, this time should work, right?"

"Definitely," I said, even though we both knew that nothing was guaranteed in the slightest. Statistics showed that we were more likely to survive this than not, but we weren't numbers on a graph. We were people. And some people had to be in the minority. The chances of having four relapses in five years were very, very low. But it had to happen to someone. And that someone apparently had to be me.

"Did you have a good birthday?"

I glanced over at the chair my mom was sat on but she was already practically asleep again so I scowled and replied, "No. It was a bit shitty, to be honest. So was yesterday."

"Why?"

Edward's face flashed in my mind and I twisted my fingers together in my lap, looking down at my bitten-down nails. "Well, some new kids started at school – two girls and a boy – and the boy was in two of my classes and, Callie, he's completely gorgeous." I glanced at Renée, but there was no way she could hear me.

Callie cocked an eyebrow at me. "I'm failing to see how this is shitty, to be honest."

"He… ugh, there's something wrong with him." I didn't know where I had drawn this conclusion from, but I carried on talking anyway. "He's obsessive-compulsive, I know he is, and he has this look about him like… I don't know… he just seems kind of out of it, you know? But he has a really, really nice jaw that I want to lick, and he has these green eyes that are like some weird kind of green fire, and he has really strange but cool hair, and I love his fingers, and I want him to touch me all over, and I want him to love me, and I want to talk to him, and I want him to want to talk to me, but he's so standoffish and I just can't and…" I drew in a deep breath when I ran out after everything came out in a rush. I hadn't even been aware that I was thinking all of that shit. "Argh. He drives me crazy and makes me tingle all over and there's this… spark. Like electricity. Like it's meant to be. You know?"

Callie smiles slightly, her skin stretching over her face bones. She's gotten really skinny. "It sounds like you have a crush, Bella."

I groan, but it's muffled into the tissue. "But nothing can happen because…" I trailed off. I didn't even want to tell Callie that I was too scared to get attached to someone else. I was scared of hurting someone else when I died. It wasn't if, it was when.

But Callie nodded. And I knew that she knew. I knew she understood.

Just then, the doors opened and a doctor came in. I hadn't seen him before. He looked young, and he was very handsome. He had a shock of blonde hair that looked like a hand had been pushed through it and piercing blue eyes. He was gorgeous. And he came right to my side.

"Isabella Swan?" he asked me gently.

"Um… yes?"

"I'm Dr Cullen and I'm taking over from Dr Gerandy when he retires. Since Dr Gerandy is busy right now, I'll be taking care of you today. If that's all right with you?"

I turned to Callie, my eyes wide with alarm. A new doctor with the surname Cullen? There was no way that this was a coincidence. But Callie looked at me strangely and I remembered that I had never actually told her Edward's name so she didn't have a clue what I was shocked about. And then I remembered that Dr Cullen was waiting for me to respond.

"Yes," I muttered, ducking my head embarrassedly at my little display. I reach over and shake Renée's leg. "Mom."

Her eyes opened warily and she blinked a few times before looking up at Dr Cullen. He introduced himself to her as well, and then gestured for us to lead the way.

"Can I meet you there?" Renée asked tiredly. "I really could do with a coffee."

"Yeah," I replied, knowing that she was asking me.

Then Mom walked off to find a coffee machine, or shop. I waved goodbye to Callie and then let Dr Cullen lead the way.

"Is she your friend?" he asked politely as we walked.

I nodded before realising that he couldn't see me. My cheeks flushed a light pink. "Yes."

"Callie's a nice girl."

Apparently Dr Cullen was treating her as well. "Yes." There was a long pause and then, because I apparently couldn't control my big mouth, I blurted, "Do you have a son?"

Dr Cullen turned and looked at me in surprise. "What?"

I suddenly felt very, very stupid. "Um…"

"Edward said something about me?" The doctor looked sceptical.

I shook my head. "I just… you have the same surname."

"Oh." Dr Cullen looked less shocked now. He fell silent, absorbed in his own thoughts until we reached the door to Dr Gerandy's little room. He opened it, gesturing for me to go in first.

I thanked him and then went in and hopped up on the little bed, still holding the tissue to my face. I watched as Dr Cullen crossed the room to wash his hands in the little sink. His expression was still a little shell-shocked. My eyes narrowed slightly. What on earth would make him react like that?

"What seems to be the problem?" His voice brought me out of my thoughts.

"My nose is bleeding," I answered, even though that couldn't have been much more obvious. I presumed that it was standard procedure, because Dr Cullen didn't seem that stupid.

He came over to my side and peeled away the tissue, throwing it in a bin before taking my face carefully in his cool hands and turning it from side to side. His fingers probed gently along the bridge of my nose as I wondered what on earth that could tell him. I had leukaemia; my nose bled from time to time. I didn't need an inspection; I just needed something to make it stop.

"How long has this been bleeding?"

"Nearly two hours. Last time it bled for so long Dr Gerandy made it stop."

"Does this happen often?"

I shrugged. "From time to time. It's something to do with the blot clotting and then bursting and the blot clots because of something to do with my leukaemia." I wondered if he knew that I had leukaemia when he had started treating me. He didn't seem surprised so I presumed so.

A little smile was on his lips. "I know."

Of course he knew; he was a doctor. I blushed again, though it was a surprise that there was any blood left in my face at all. "Hmm."

The room fell silent again after he passed me more tissue and told me to squeeze the bridge of my nose. He pulled my file off of Dr Gerandy's shelf – the reason, I presumed, that we had come to this room – and was flicking through it.

"How do you know Edward?" His voice cut through the silence very suddenly, making me jump. His back remained facing me.

"He's in my English class, and my Biology class, and gym," I replied steadily.

"Oh."

I hesitated but then said, "You won't say anything, will you? I mean… um…"

"Of course not," he assured me.

I nodded. "Just checking. Why… why were you surprised that I knew him?"

Dr Cullen glanced up at me over the top of my folder. He smiled wryly. "Edward doesn't know people. He's not a people person."

"I noticed."

Now the doctor nodded, scratching the back of his neck. I noticed that when he spoke of Edward, he suddenly seemed about ten years older. "Ah," he said softly. "I see." Then, he said, "I'll be back in a second," and left me alone.

Mom came back before he did. She sat beside me, sipping her coffee wordlessly.

Dr Cullen came back with two ice packs. He ordered me to hold one over the inside of my wrist and one over the bridge of my nose. Then he wrote my treatment in my folder.

After a while, my nose cleared up and I had told Mom to remember ice packs next time this happened. We didn't speak of Edward again.

#x#

Mom took me back home and I drove myself to school this time. She insisted, not me, and I think that it had something to do with having to drive my truck home so that I couldn't go on Jasper's bike. I didn't know whether to be irritated, or touched.

I tucked the photo of Max into my wallet before I headed off to school. The thought of having my own pet, a whole life I could take care of by myself, seemed more freeing than I would have been able to imagine. I didn't have many friends round, so it would be nice to have the company every once in a while. Jasper and Emmett came round occasionally, but we preferred to hang out in places where there were no adults so it was occasionally.

I pulled up in the school parking lot just as the bell rang signalling the end of first period. Great. I had missed English again and had gotten into school in time for my free period. What was the point in that? I sighed and drummed my fingers against the wheel for a few seconds before deciding to go and find Mr Berty and apologise to him for walking out the day before, and not turning up this morning.

All of the teachers knew about my leukaemia, but Mom and I had requested that they did not issue any special treatment. Of course, that was impossible for some people. Mr Berty was one of the few to whom it was not.

I meandered through the crowds that were rushing to their next class slowly. By the time that I got to Mr Berty's classroom, the corridors were mostly empty. I knocked on his door, and then peered through the glass window, regretting my decision to come here almost instantly.

Because, when I looked in, the only thing that my eyes could find in the room was the back of someone's head. And not just any someone. Edward Cullen. At the sound of my knock, he turned to look at me, and then dropped his gaze. He was so, so beautiful; it almost hurt me to look at him.

A moment later, he turned and came toward the door. Not wanting to seem rude, I opened the door and held it for him, though it was the last thing I wanted to do. The thing I wanted to do right then, was turn and run and hide from this bizarrely beautiful boy. No, no that was a lie. The thing I really wanted to do right then was march right on in there and press my lips against his, and keep on kissing those soft, pouty lips forever and ever.

But I knew that physics and biology meant that we'd have to stop for air sometime. And I knew myself too well to think that I'd ever be brave enough to actually do that.

So I held the door, smiling slightly as he walked past so that he wouldn't think that I was a complete bitch. As he walked past, a slight breeze hit my face and I couldn't help but breathe in his scent. He smelt like posh aftershave, and apple shampoo, and boy. His smell made my girly bits tingle with want.

I held my breath, not wanting to go and apologise to my teacher this hideously turned on, and then went into the classroom.

"Good morning, Bella," Mr Berty said brightly. Then he softened his tone. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine," I said indignantly. "I just wanted to apologise for… um… yesterday."

Mr Berty frowned as he packed away some of his papers. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have directed that question at you."

I ground my teeth together. "Yes you should! I don't want any special treatment because I'm sick. If I had a cold, nobody would give a damn. Just because a few cells in my body don't want to do as they're fucking told, it doesn't mean that I need to be treated any differently to anyone else!"

He looked up at me, his eyes sad. "Okay. I'm sorry. Your apology is accepted." Then he shook his finger at me. "And watch your language young lady."

I smiled. "Thank you." Then I turned to leave.

"Oh, Bella?"

I looked back. "Yeah?"

"Edward was asking after you. He's worried that he's hurt your feelings. Cut him a little slack, hey?"

I blinked. Edward had been asking after me? Then I nodded. "Um… sure." I hesitated. "Hey, Mr B?"

"Yes?"

"Is… is Edward okay?" I bit my lip and shuffled my shoes, looking down at the floor as I asked my question so quietly that it was almost inaudible.

Mr Berty came over to where I loitered in the middle of the room. "Why would you say that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. He seems… sad."

He smiled. "You two are too similar for your own good," he said. "I don't know anything about Edward, Bella, but you know that, even if I did, I couldn't disclose personal information to you. But I do agree with you. Maybe you can make him happy?" he suggested with a wink. Before I could misinterpret it, he added, "Talk to him, you know. Be friendly."

I sighed. "I doubt that that would make him happy. But I'll try."

Mr Berty shook his head and muttered, "Kids." Then he dismissed me, and went back to his desk.

I headed for the door, keeping my eyes on my feet as I wondered what to do with this free period. I knew that I should probably catch up from this last English lesson, but I didn't really know anyone in my class that would help me, and not many had a free now anyway…

Then, I walked into something hard and stumbled backwards. "Oof!" My bag slipped off of my arm and my things tumbled all over the floor, just as a hand reached out and grabbed my wrist firmly in a tight grasp. Electric tingles shot through my skin, red hot sparks. I gasped quietly and looked up, my eyes meeting green. My heart thudded unevenly in my chest and my cheeks heated up.

I pulled my wrist away and bent down, starting to pick up my things. I hurriedly shoved books and pens into my bag at random, trying to ignore the heat that was all over my body from his touch. I had never felt that before.

"Sorry, I… um… here… let me…" Edward babbled.

I kept my eyes to the floor, studiously ignoring him. When I turned back a moment later, he was holding some of my things out to me, his cheeks tinged with a pink hue. I looked down at his hands, my blush deepening when I saw what he had picked up.

Edward Cullen; quite possibly the most beautiful boy I had ever lain eyes on; the boy who somehow turned me on just by glancing at him; the boy whose jaw I wanted to lick. And the boy who currently was handing me back three tampons. Which also made him the boy who would likely never speak to me ever again.

Fucking great.

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Thanks so much for hitting the 200! I have to admit that I was doubtful that it would happen but we did it! :) And so here is your chapter right on time ;) AND it's super, super long ;) Hopefully makes up for the shorter last chapter :)

I know that the middle of the chapter wasn't too interesting but it's all important so bear with me please :) And Callie is going to be a hugely important character so pay attention to her ;)

I feel that I should add here that I know absolutely NOTHING about hospitals and treatment for cancer. I have googled the hell out of it but there is only so much stuff you can find on google- and only a fraction of that you can understand without a frickin medical degree. So DO NOT take anything you read here to be true. I'm also using slight creative license with bits and pieces. The ice pack on the inside of your wrist IS actually a cure I read on the internet for nose bleeds, though ;) Don't say you don't learn anything from reading these stories ;)

Easy Twilight Trivia! Now, some of you may have noticed this earlier on in the chapter, but I stole a cast member's cat's name. So I'm gonna ask you if you know whose it was just for fun. It's really easy so I'm sure most of you will know but I'll ask all the same ;) Which cast member has a cat called Max?

Rec of the week: This Is Not My Life by Isakassees. If you're not reading/have read this then I don't know where you have been. I'm absolutely sure that everyone who reads Twific has read this and has something good to say about it. And what's not to like, really? It's got Daddyward, drama, romance, adorableness, BRILLIANT characterisations… and there're even some lemons if you like that kinda thing. Have a look ;)

Next chapter there'll be some Bella/Edward interaction! Le gasp, I know; the outsiders actually speaking! :P It's back in EPOV ;)

I'm not sure when I'll next update. If you guys can hit 260 reviews then I'll update then, but I have to admit that I'm playing it safe with that number because I don't have the next chapter ready yet. If you hit that in, like, a day then I'm a little bit screwed :L

But please review anyway! Being screwed isn't always a bad thing… ;)

Thank you all so much! :)

-Steph