DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The remainder of the words, plot and lackluster formatting belong to me.

Thank you to my betas Scorp112 & LightStarDusting for making it sparkly.

Chapter 16: The Twilight Zone

EPOV

Wanting to avoid responding to Emmett's allegations for as long as I could (hopefully forever), I used Mike's injuries to change the subject. I knew how badly my hand hurt, and since Mike's face was on the receiving end of my fist, it had to be worse for him. Plus, there was blood everywhere. Considering head injuries had a greater tendency to bleed than others, I knew it looked worse than it actually was and played up the scene to my advantage.

I had no remorse for what I'd done to Mike, but I did feel compelled to get him medical attention. We helped him into Emmett's parents' van and took him directly to Olympic Medical Center. Emmett brought Mike in by himself so the hospital staff wouldn't connect my hand to Mike's injuries and bring the police into the matter.

Emmett called his father next. His cover story was simple: we'd come across Mike fighting with a couple of guys who ran off when they saw us, and we'd brought Mike to the hospital to be checked over. Mr. McCarty volunteered to find Newton's parents and break the news. Emmett was quick to suggest that his parents stay with the Newtons for moral support, again to keep my hand out of his parents' sight. He added that there was no point in us speaking to the police since we didn't get a good look at the perpetrators and asked if we could head straight home, explaining that we both were shaken up by what had happened. I had to give him credit; he had every angle covered. His experience in covering his tracks must have been extensive. Either that or he knew how to play his parents like a piano.

The drive back to Forks was the longest of my life. Emmett wouldn't get off my back about Bella. I denied having any relationship with her, sexual or otherwise, but the way I'd handled the situation with Mike said more about my feelings for her than any denial could negate. He was surprisingly in favor of our nonexistent union, touting the praises of the geek and the hot chick—his words, not mine. It was surreal to hear someone support us, considering I was unsure what I wanted from the situation, let alone made peace with my feelings yet.

~8~

As I sat in the emergency room of Forks Community Hospital, waiting to have my hand looked at, it became abundantly clear to me that I hadn't entirely thought my actions through. It had never occurred to me that my hand might incur some damage if I hit Mike or what that damage would convey about what I'd done. I was neither prepared to field the questions that were sure to come, nor ready to share the reasons for my behavior. Yet my unwitting disregard for the consequences of my actions rendered me horrifyingly exposed the moment my fist connected to Mike's cheek. I felt sick about it.

Another side effect, one which was far worse than what I'd done to myself, was what I'd done to Bella. The damage I'd inflicted on Mike had the potential to betray her connection to him. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to figure out what he'd done to her. I owed it to her to do everything in my power to stop the details of his violations from surfacing. I just had to figure out how to accomplish that.

The biggest question was whether she and I could be connected, and the number of variables made it a complicated one. We'd been very discreet about our partnership, but that didn't necessarily mean no one had noticed the few times we'd spoken at school. Bella had only approached me once, the day after Christmas vacation, but I'd gone to her several times during my kissing lessons and again last week, the day she invited me to the dance. Though it was unlikely that anyone would have scrutinized our interactions, I had to be prepared to be wrong. I had to think from every angle if I was going to come up with a strategy to minimize the ripple effects of my choices.

Mike wasn't a worry. It was in his best interest to stay silent on the matter, considering the trouble he stood to get into if his assaults on Bella came to light. Ever the idiot, even he wasn't stupid enough to out me in retribution. Emmett was another matter entirely. He'd given me his promise to keep Bella's name out of things, but whether he'd actually follow through remained to be seen. He had nothing to lose by gossiping about the reason behind the fight. His role was minimal, so any punishment he would receive would reflect that.

Of course, I had to consider the entire student body of Forks High, always willing to discuss things that were none of their business.

An observant person could easily surmise the relationship between my hand and Mike's face, and it stood to reason that at least one such person existed within the student body. It would only be natural for this person or persons to discuss their theory with friends, as well as speculate about the reason for the fight. I'd long ago grown accustomed to being gossip fodder, labeled a geek, freak, and a hundred other more defamatory monikers and gibes. It was a different story for Bella. She wasn't used to that level of cruelty. She didn't deserve people's pity or derision for being the victim of an asshole's crimes.

I knew from experience that I couldn't stop people from talking. Despite the lack of corroboration, a lot of people would be willing to believe the hearsay. When it came to gossip, the truth wasn't nearly as important as having something to talk about.

Maybe giving them something to talk about was the approach I needed to take. Carefully controlling the stream of information might give the vultures enough propaganda to discuss to prevent them from digging any further. Sacrificing my privacy seemed like a minor price to pay to save Bella's good name.

In my mind, it was settled. If the connection between Bella and me was discovered, rather than futilely deny it like I had with Emmett, I would confirm the existence of our friendship. Of course, I'd keep the details vague so the focus of any discussion stayed on us and away from Mike.

As soon as I was done at the hospital, I had to find Bella so I could tell her what I'd done and, more importantly, how I was going to get us out of the mess I'd made.

~8~

I knocked meekly on the door with my left hand, trying in vain to ball my right for the hundredth time since Dr. Gerandy had stitched and dressed it. I hated the way the thick wrapping felt, and the pain medicine I'd been given wasn't doing much except making me feel off-kilter. Ironically, the scars that resulted from hitting Mike in December were now fully encased in the new sutures, leaving no trace of the once red marks that marred my knuckles. If only erasing today were that easy.

An older man I assumed to be Bella's father answered the door. I introduced myself and asked to speak to her. After letting me in and offering me a seat in the living room, he disappeared and returned with a can of beer in his hand. I looked at him expectantly, knowing I had to tell Bella what had happened before she went to school tomorrow.

"Edward Cullen, you said? Carlisle's boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"I knew your mom; went to high school with her and your father. Haven't seen her in years. Then again, she's not around much, from what I hear."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The last thing I needed was an interrogation from a man that I had no respect for. "It's true that she's travels a lot with her job, if that's what you mean."

"And what job would that be?" he asked, eyeing me skeptically. Clearly he knew nothing of my mother.

"With the Seattle Symphony Orchestra; she's a pianist."

"She always did love her piano." He paused, waiting for me to reply, but I saw no need. "Still… she's a mother first. It's not right that she goes off the way she does, leaving you to fend for yourself. A boy without a father needs to be kept an eye on."

The unintended irony in his statement wasn't lost on me. As well-behaved children go, I was normally exemplary. The fact that I was currently standing in the police chief's living room with stitched up knuckles that were the result of a fist fight to defend his daughter played right into his argument. Still, it was impossible not to be irritated by his insinuations about my mother and me.

"With all due respect, sir. You don't really know my mother or me, and as such, can't really say what's right or wrong when it comes to us. I came here to speak to Bella, not discuss my mother's parental merits with a man who hasn't earned the right to insult the job she's doing."

"I believe that was a shot at me." The left side of his mouth turned up in an amused smirk. To me, his implications about my mother weren't the least bit funny.

"You can hardly expect me to take your criticisms of my mother's job seriously when living full-time with your daughter hasn't honed your parenting skills."

His eyes narrowed and the volume of his voice increased, showcasing his impatience with me. "Do you think I care what some pissant kid thinks about my parenting skills?"

"Clearly you don't," I agreed, unconcerned with his rancor. "Or you'd have done more to protect Bella after she was drugged in December. And before you accuse me of anything, I wasn't the one who drugged her. I'm the one who rescued her, took her to the hospital, and gave her a place to stay when she locked herself out of the house. If memory serves, her father was off fishing somewhere."

"Why you little…" The twist of his mouth was unfamiliar. I couldn't decide if he was angry or impressed that I'd stood up to him, but either way, my honest retelling of the events of that night had him a little ruffled.

"I'm not here to argue with you, Chief Swan. I just need to speak to Bella for a moment, and then I'll be on my way."

"Bella's not here," he informed me tersely. "It's a good thing, too. Something tells me she wouldn't want to speak to you anyway."

I smiled smugly, resisting the urge to correct his assumption, and added Bella to the list of things he knew nothing about. "I'll give you a modicum of respect because you're my elder and a police officer, but you're not going to keep me from her. She's been a very good friend to me, and until she tells me to get lost, I'm going to be a part of her life, whether you like it or not."

"You call that respectful?" Mirth clear in his tone, his mustache twitched as he worked hard to keep it from his expression.

"I'd call it frank. Would you prefer I mislead you with lies or told you what I think you'd like to hear?"

He scowled at me. "Don't be a wiseass, son. It doesn't become you."

"Point taken, sir."

"Are you going to make me ask what happened to your hand?"

I was filled with a sudden dread, understanding that I'd underestimated Bella's father's abilities. He'd simply been biding his time.

"I'd rather not say."

"But it has to do with my daughter," he deadpanned.

"Why would you say that?" I asked, my voice way too high to make my attempt at nonchalance believable.

"You show up at my door uninvited attempting to hide a bandage the size of Texas. If that doesn't scream teenage angst, I don't know what does."

There was no point in lying now; he knew he was on the right track. Besides, it couldn't hurt to have the law on my side, assuming that would be the case once he understood the injury was a result of protecting Bella.

"Mike tried to hurt her again."

His face went white and his fingers gripped the can in his hand until it made a disturbing crunch noise. After a few quiet moments, he tipped the beer to his lips and took a long swig. "Thank you for your honesty," he finally replied, his voice scratchy and uneven.

"I wanted to tell Bella what happened."

His head cocked to one side and he looked over at me, doing his best to compose himself. "That's pretty ballsy showing up on the police chief's doorstep to admit you beat the crap out of someone."

"I figured if anyone might appreciate the gesture, it would be you."

He nodded, regarding me speculatively. "Am I going to hear about the details of this down at the station?"

"I don't think so. It happened in Port Angeles."

"I see. And everyone's seen a doctor?"

"Yes, sir. Nothing more permanent than a lesson taught."

He uttered a satisfied grunt and said, "I'll tell Bella you came by."

"I'd appreciate it if you could have her call me. I'd really like to explain things to her."

"Don't worry your head over it, boy. The less she knows, the better. Go on and get out of here."

I left feeling strangely relieved that Chief Swan knew the truth about the fight. I guess I'd never realized how much energy it took to keep things secret from people. Despite the rockiness of our conversation, he seemed reconciled about the altercation, if not supportive and appreciative of what I'd done. With his help, it would be easier than ever to keep Bella safe.

~8~

If Bella called, I never heard the phone. I went to bed early and passed out the moment my head hit the pillow, sleeping straight through the night and my alarm. A gentle tug on my shoulder from my neighbor, Mrs. Santiago, was what finally woke me. I blinked hard, trying to force my brain to work and remember why she was there.

"Edward, get up. You're late for school."

My eyes darted from Carmen's face, to the clock, and then to bottle of pills on the nightstand. As if on cue, my hand began to throb.

"Thanks Mrs. S. I'll get moving."

"Are you okay, son?" she asked softly, concern etched on her wrinkled face.

I raised my bandaged hand. "This? It's nothing, just a little horseplay with friends. Apparently I don't know my own strength."

"You should call your mom and tell her what happened. She'll be worried about you if she finds out you hid your injury." She stared at the bandage for a moment and tsked. "You have to be more careful. You won't be able to play the piano if you damage your hands."

"I promise to call my mom before I leave for school, and don't worry about my hand. It'll be as good as new before you know it. I'd better run if I'm going to make second period."

"I'll check in on you later. Tell you mother I said hello." She patted me gently on the shoulder and left.

I popped one of the pills for my hand. They weren't as strong as what the doctor had given me after my exam, but they would do fine for the throbbing and general discomfort. I raced through my shower, left a quick message for my mom, and rushed to school, arriving at the chemistry lab only moments before the bell. Jasper glanced at me sideways as I slid into my seat, a sly grin on his face.

"It sounds like you had a busy weekend," Jasper whispered, giving me a look that said he already knew too much. It was my fault for sleeping in. My plan was already askew.

"Not really," I replied, betting that he'd call me on my vagueness and offer up what he knew in return for my answer.

"Oh? You fuck up your hand every weekend?"

"I was helping a friend." I looked over at him and smiled, marginally excited to exercise some control over the gossip machine.

Jasper leaned across the lab table and whispered close to my ear. "Last time I checked, you don't beat someone up for a friend."

"What are you implying?"

"Don't worry, it's cool. Like last night when the waiter hit on Alice. I wasn't going to let him get away with it. Not that I beat him up or anything, but I sure as hell made it clear to lay off because she was taken."

"I thought you liked Bella," I offered, confused. "I saw you with her at the dance last Friday."

"She was helping to get Alice and me together. Bella's just a friend, and even if she weren't, she's totally off-limits anyway. I'd never go after another guy's girl."

"If she's not your girlfriend, whose girlfriend is she?" I asked, feeling like an idiot for not knowing that Bella was seeing someone. He had to be wrong.

Jasper's eyes flashed to my hand and back to my face. "Like I said, you don't get into a fight for someone who's just a friend."

Suddenly what he was implying clicked. I had no idea how to respond, whether to confirm or deny or say anything at all. It was my worst nightmare coming true.

"If you ask me, it looks good on you, man," Jasper continued. "Mike had it coming."

I froze, completely horrified by his seemingly informed words. If he knew about what Mike had done to Bella, it was worse than my worst nightmare. I couldn't keep the graveness out of my tone. "How do you know that?"

"Mike was talking shit after he overheard Bella ask you to the dance. He's been after her for a dog's age, but I knew he didn't have a chance with you in the picture."

"You can't trust a word he says, you know that, right? He'd say anything to justify what he does." I felt like a complete hypocrite saying this, guilty of doing exactly what I was accusing Mike of doing.

"I know, right? He was trying to convince me that you were just trying to get into Bella's pants, and I told him he was full of shit. Mike doesn't know what he's talking about, man. I've seen the way you look at her."

I looked at him imploringly, needing him to believe me, wishing I could believe it myself. "It's not like that, Jasper."

"Really?"

I nodded. The way I felt about Bella couldn't get out. It just couldn't.

"It should be," he said with quiet conviction, turning away from me and opening his textbook, subtly leaving me to think about his suggestion.

I stewed for the rest of the class and the next, trying to sort out my thoughts.

As much as I wanted to blame the fight for exposing my feelings for Bella, I couldn't. Jasper figured out how I felt long before I'd punched Mike. I just wasn't sure how I'd been so transparent when I couldn't see what was going on myself. I'd never gone looking for any kind of emotional attachment to her, but it existed against all reason. And I had no idea what to do about it.

History had taught me that my friendship with Bella couldn't survive this. My feelings for her were what killed it the first time around. If I wanted to keep her in my life, and I did, she could never know how I felt about her.

The experiment was now the worst idea I'd ever had. Not only had it forced me to recognize that I cared for Bella, every new phase of the experiment would strengthen my bond to her and pull me deeper under. The smart thing to do was stay away from her, only I knew I couldn't do that. I'd already proven I couldn't resist her. The idea of staying away from her was as painful as what I would do to myself if I continued in the experiment. I was damned whether I did or didn't.

The fight with Mike seemed rather trivial now, considering the scope and gravity of the possibilities before me.

I could lose Bella.

Even as an idea it was painful. As a reality, it would be unbearable.

But it was entirely possible.

Chances were good that I'd have my heart broken. It was arguably inevitable for every person, but the idea was foreign to me. Until recently, I'd never imagined having a bond that powerful with anyone.

And what about the experiment? If by some miracle I could persevere in what now seemed like an idiotic and potentially torturous thing to pursue, I stood to experience the most intense emotions known to the human condition, but to what end beyond ensuring my broken heart?

It seemed as if everything changed the moment I hit Mike, all because I didn't think of the consequences. That punch was now the single greatest catalyst in my life. It was irrelevant whether I was ready for the changes or not. They were upon me, and by association, Bella, too.

I couldn't ignore her presence in this since it was my fault she was involved at all. She'd never asked for my help or protection. I'd forced them both on her when I decided I knew better than she did and superseded her will. Despite my pure motives, my selfish impulses had landed her right in the middle of the mess I'd made, and I had to find a way to get her out of it. She trusted me, and I didn't want to betray that trust.

Clearly my original plan was flawed. People were already aware of the connection between us. Though few knew the extent of it, many would infer that we were a couple, just like Emmett and Jasper had.

Who would it hurt, if we let them think that?

Now that I'd had time to think, wanting to keep my feelings for Bella a secret was just another selfish impulse, and in this case, I needed to do better by her. When it came to how others would see us, there was really no difference whether it was as friends or more. I could offer myself up to the gossipmongers in an act of solidarity without telling Bella how I felt. That way she would see that my mistakes weren't intended to hurt her.

Letting people think we were involved seemed like the lesser of two evils if doing so allowed me to protect Bella's privacy in other ways. What happened with Mike would be seen as two guys fighting over a girl, and her secret would be safe. When we'd entered into our agreement, I'd given her my word to keep what was between us private. If I broke that promise to keep what Mike had done to her hidden, would she forgive me?

It's not as if anyone had to know the details of what went on between us. For all intents and purposes, we could appear as any other couple would, sharing lunches and carpooling to school. We got along well so it wouldn't be a stretch for us. We were friends, after all.

If 'couple' were our accepted relationship status, Bella would be safe from Mike's advances or those of any other interested party, for that matter. It was certainly an appealing and convenient side effect of propagating the lie.

The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of playing up my relationship with Bella.

All that mattered now was getting Bella to agree to it.

BPOV

I was a bit of a mess after Edward dropped me off Saturday afternoon, worrying and overanalyzing everything that had happened. Alice put an end to my self-induced misery by dragging my sorry ass to her house for a sleepover with Rose. It wasn't hard for her to guess that my sullen mood had to do with Edward, but she wouldn't allow me to wallow, despite my enthusiastic desire to do just that. She promised not to pester me for details as long as I tired to have fun, which as it turned out wasn't exactly difficult. Cheesecake, a movie, and time with my best friends were an irresistible trio.

The giggles and fun lasted until the wee hours of the morning, but once I was left to my thoughts, all of my doubts came flooding back. No matter how many times I reminded myself that Edward was into our voyeur activities that afternoon, I couldn't get past the feeling that I'd screwed up. Telling him he was wrong wasn't exactly a smart thing to do. I'm sure that hearing his perspective was skewed probably didn't sit well with him, given the fact that he was rather smug about his intelligence. I wanted that to be the reason for the strange regret I felt, a simple offense that was easily forgiven with an apology, but I knew better. Pointing out that our experiment was a replacement for the void of social interaction in his life was the glaring mistake I'd made, closely followed by putting him on the spot for an explanation of his appearance at the dance.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" Rose whispered from her side of the room.

"Just having trouble sleeping," I mumbled, hoping to sound more tired than I felt.

"You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm not going to judge you."

I knew Rose cared about me, but we didn't confide in one another like Alice and I did. She wasn't your average, about-to-graduate, eighteen-year-old. Not only was her Hollywood movie star beauty intimidating, I'd never met a more self-assured person in all my life. She never doubted herself or the decisions she made, whereas I could barely choose a breakfast cereal, let alone make some of the enormous life decisions that stood before me. Unlike me, Rosalie had already chosen a college, a major, and had even arranged for a place to live: a little one-bedroom apartment that was off-campus but close enough to the action. It was perfect, just like she was.

That was Rosalie's life in a word: perfect. Her relationship with Emmett was the only thing I could remember not working out in her favor. Then again, maybe it had. He wanted her to stay in Forks and attend community college. When she refused, he broke up with her to make her see reason. What she actually saw was red, and Rosalie's anger was fuel for her stubbornness. She wouldn't give Emmett the time of day now, despite the fact that she still cared for him.

"You think I don't notice things, but I do," she went on.

"What are you talking about?" Did she know something? Had I slipped up somehow?

"I'm talking about the moony look you get when you see him, how you disappear for hours at a time or show up late so often, that's what. You seemed like you had something on your mind tonight."

"Was I that transparent?"

She ignored my attempt to deflect her observations. "What did Edward do?"

"Nothing he doesn't always do," I admitted.

She sat up and looked over at me. "I don't think you could have picked a more closed-off guy if you'd tried. Sure, he's hot and all, but he has the social skills of a gnat. You can't make conversation with a bug, Bella."

I stared at her face in shock, feeling like a moron for thinking I'd done such a good job at hiding my feelings, at least until she snickered and her grin spread slowly across her face. Then I laughed along with her. Not only was she absolutely right, on all fronts, but the fact that I thought I could hide my feelings from my two best friends was ridiculous.

We talked a little bit about the situation—my feelings, not the experiment. Despite my confusion and near desperation to get all of the secrets I was keeping off my chest, I couldn't disregard the deal I'd made with Edward to keep what we were doing on the down low. Surprisingly, Rose was almost sympathetic. She told me in no uncertain terms that she thought I was an idiot for falling for a guy that, in her words, 'didn't know the opposite sex existed,' but she understood that the heart wants what it wants, logic not necessarily included in the deal.

Her advice was simple: cease and desist. She felt that going after Edward was a waste of time since he wasn't looking for a relationship. In fact, she was fairly certain that I couldn't even get him to consider fooling around. Little did she know that he was the one who asked me to take it into consideration. She was a realist through and through, so she made a point of mentioning how hurt I was going to be if things didn't work out. To her, it was better to avoid something that had little chance of success in favor of something that could turn out better, especially when that something had the potential to break your heart. Of course, few of us had the options she had. She'd never wanted a guy who didn't want her back because everyone wanted Rosalie. It was impossible for her to see that the experience might be worth the aftermath.

I didn't want to avoid him like she thought I should. When I explained that we'd become friends, she proceeded to point out that we had nothing in common, ran in different social circles, and would cease to have any contact once we went away to college. I couldn't deny those things were true, any more than I could tell her about how well he and I got along when we hung out. If I brought up the time we spent together outside of school, I'd have to explain what we filled that time with and I wasn't allowed to share that. So I led the conversation back to avoiding him and asked for her help. At least if she thought I was taking her advice, she might be willing to cut me some slack when I failed. Avoiding Edward at school wouldn't be hard since he'd made it clear he wanted nothing to do with me there.

~8~

Offering her moral support, Rosalie picked me up for school on Monday morning. I was tired and cranky from the lack of sleep on Saturday night and too much shopping on Sunday. By the time we returned from our retail therapy yesterday evening, Charlie had already left for work and Alice was almost late for her date with Jasper.

As soon as we got to school, Alice rushed to us with the news that Mike Newton had been in a fight. She didn't have many of the details but did offer an exceptionally grotesque description of injuries on his face. From the sound of things, he'd taken quite a beating. I felt a twinge of guilt for thinking that karma had finally caught up with him. No one deserved to be a victim, he no more than I.

I saw the damage for myself in gym later that morning, and, for once, Alice had not been exaggerating. The cuts around his mouth were child's play compared to the rest of his face. He had a long line of stitches below his left eye. At least I think it was his eye; it was so badly swollen that it was hard to believe his eye was actually under the hideously bruised bulge. His nose, which was never very handsome to begin with, now resembled the letter 'S,' the tip no longer centered and the bridge more or less unrecognizable.

With no study hall period scheduled in the time slot, Mike was forced to attend gym class, even thought he was too banged up to actually take part. I was just glad he was stuck in the bleachers because it meant I didn't have to interact with him. I wasn't ready to forgive him for Friday night, and judging by the sneer he leveled at me, he wasn't ready for it either.

On the way to English, I mentioned the dirty look he gave me to Alice. Lauren overheard my comment and rolled her eyes.

"As if you don't know why he's pissed off at you."

"Mind your own business, Lauren," Alice said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Don't protect her, Alice," Lauren went on. "You'd be mad, too, if you were beat up by her boyfriend." She looked directly at me while she spoke, making no attempt to disguise her scorn.

"I don't have a boyfriend, Lauren."

"Are you really going to play that card, Bella? The whole school is talking about what Edward did to Mike."

"Edward?" I asked incredulously. Lauren was a hateful, vindictive bitch, but this was low even for her. It just wasn't possible that Edward had anything to do with what happened to Mike.

"Yes Edward. It doesn't take a rocket surgeon to put two and two together to figure out why he did it."

Alice and I looked at each other and broke into a fit of laughter. Lauren lost her patience quickly, humphed, and stalked away.

"It's rocket scientist or brain surgeon, dumbass," Alice yelled after her, still giggling at Lauren's stupidity.

We quickly agreed that she'd finally lost her mind and headed to our classes.

Things got even stranger in English. A couple of girls on the cheerleading squad were staring daggers at me, and Angela kept glancing at me with a sympathetic expression. I looked down at my outfit to make sure I was dressed properly and breathed into my cupped palm to check my breath. Maybe I had food in my teeth? I couldn't come up with a reason for the extra attention I'd somehow garnered, but I didn't like it.

By the time class finished, my mood had changed from slightly irritated to full on paranoid. It seemed like everyone was watching me, pointing and whispering about what I could only assume was some horrible faux pas that I'd committed. I bypassed the lunch line and plopped down at our table empty-handed. My stomach was too tied up in knots to think of eating.

"Here, you're going to need this," Alice whispered, sliding her lemonade to me.

"Life gave you lemons?" I joked half-heartedly, looking down at the bottle of yellow liquid. It seemed to be the only thing in the room that wasn't staring at me.

"Are you okay?" Rose's voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I replied sarcastically. "What senior wouldn't want everyone at school gossiping behind her back? You know I love to be the center of attention."

"It will blow over in a few days," she assured me, patting my hand supportively.

"What will blow over? I was kidding about the gossiping." My friends regarded me cautiously but remained silent. "Am I being punk'd? Because I seem to be the only person who's noticed that Forks has turned into the Twilight Zone!"

"You really don't know, do you?" Alice whispered.

"Know what? That the whole school is acting weird, and I'm the only one not in on the joke."

"Lauren wasn't lying when she said Edward did something to Mike."

"Last I checked, kicking someone's ass in Call of Duty wasn't considered a serious matter."

"Look at Edward, Bella," Rose prompted.

I looked over at his table, not immediately noticing what Rose meant. He was eating by himself the way he did each and every day, but when he raised his hand to his mouth and his bandage came into view, her point was suddenly unmistakable.

There had to be a good explanation for his injury, and by good explanation I meant one that had nothing to do with the fight that had messed up Mike's face. Maybe he'd spilled something in the chemistry lab or the fallboard of his piano had inadvertently closed on his hand. Hell, I'd settle for a rogue chipmunk attack or an Ultimate Frisbee injury. Even a second-degree burn from an impromptu grilling competition with Bobby Flay seemed more logical. As hard as I tried to imagine it, it was simply inconceivable that Edward Cullen would beat someone to a bloody pulp.

Without thinking about what I was going to say, I was up on my feet and on my way to him.

"YOU…YOU…" I whisper-yelled. My confusion and disbelief mixed with accusation and failed to become anything but babbling.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his tone calm and patient.

"What happened to your hand?" I crossed my arms over my chest to at least appear in control.

"Nothing," he replied noncommittally, glancing at the bandage for a moment, as if he had to remind himself that his hand was injured.

"How did you do it?"

"Why don't you sit down, Bella. We could eat together, if you'd like?" He was acting every bit as strange as everyone else. Approaching him at school usually made him uncomfortable, and it most certainly did not buy me an invitation to lunch. Our entire relationship had been conducted behind closed doors by choice. The fact that he thought we should have lunch together felt not only weird but rather fraudulent.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why anything?" I retorted, feeling a little panicked. "Why sit down? Why have lunch together? Why are you talking to me at school when you expressly told me it makes you uncomfortable? And while I'm asking questions, why is your hand injured?"

"That's a lot of questions," he deadpanned, looking up at me with a blank expression. When I didn't respond, he went on. "Breathe, Bella. Or better yet, sit down and give me a moment to explain myself."

"Damn straight you're going to explain yourself," I muttered, reluctantly taking the seat across from him.

He leaned toward me so I could hear his quiet voice. I was somewhat comforted by the fact that I expected him to do this. "I take it you've heard some of the rumors floating around."

"Besides a lot of staring and one ginormous insinuation from Lauren, no, I haven't heard the rumors. Care to share?" I asked sarcastically, fully expecting he'd avoid my question.

"It's just that you were making it too easy on him. I was willing to look the other way at Christmastime because we'd only just become reacquainted. I didn't know your character or history, so I wasn't about to make assumptions. And you were in no shape to be left by yourself. Someone had to watch out for you."

"Wait, what?"

"Now we are friends, and he didn't learn a thing. Not only is he arrogant, he's stupid. Everyone knows that a criminal should never revisit the scene of a crime. You were giving him kindness he didn't deserve. I had to protect you."

He waited for me to respond, but I simply couldn't. I was stupefied, beyond words or actions, beyond all rational thought.

"A normal person would have learned his lesson in December. Obviously, I gave him too much credit in thinking he'd understand the implicit message in my actions that night; what he did at the dance proves that. I couldn't stand the thought of what might have happened if I hadn't been there… if he were to try again. There was no choice but to make him see the only way an asshole like Mike sees anything."

"Violence?" I squeaked, unable to reconcile the word with Edward's gentle soul.

"I would have settled for police involvement, but you didn't want to press charges, and I had no recourse, since I wasn't directly involved. I looked into it. For the life of me I can't figure out why you'd allow Mike to get away with this sort of behavior. Not once but twice, Bella. I think you've lost sight of the fact that what he did to you was not your fault."

I looked down at the table, feeling terribly guilt-ridden for my role in Mike's injuries. "If you did this to protect me, then what happened to him is my fault."

"Don't be so illogical. He got what he deserved based on his actions, not anything you did. It was my decision to go after him, and it was made exclusive of your feelings on the matter."

He'd gone out on a limb to protect me, and I should have felt grateful, but all I felt was confused. "So that's what people are whispering about? What he did to me?"

"Actually, no. People seem far more interested in what's going on between you and me than about Mike being a scumbag."

"That's why I didn't want to press charges," I explained, my stomach roiling turbulently. "I knew that if your involvement came to light, people would be talking about you… and… us." I didn't want to lose him over this. Edward was so much more important to me than seeking retribution for what Mike had tried to do to me.

"Do you really think I care what people say about me? It can't be any worse than what's already been said. I learned a long time ago that the only opinion that matters is mine."

"But people will know we're friends."

He shrugged, taking a moment to think before he elaborated. "We live in a small town. People were bound to find out we've been spending time together. Now we don't have to hide it."

"I thought you wanted to hide it."

I waited for him to answer me, trying to understand the intensity in his stare, but I couldn't figure it out. After a moment he cleared his throat, the strained sound forced out as an awkward cough. "I did what I thought was right, Bella. I'm not ashamed of it, nor do I have any regrets. If you don't want to hang around with me at school, that's your prerogative. I know it wasn't part of our deal."

How had I gotten to this place? I thought back to the afternoon in the school parking lot when I told Edward I wanted us to be friends. He'd been so reluctant to give me a chance. The tables were turned now, and the change in him was so out-of-character that I found it hard to trust his motivation. Regardless, he was still Edward, so I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"We're friends first, right?"

He nodded and began picking at the piece of pizza in front of him. The congealed cheese made it look rather unappetizing, so I couldn't blame him for his lack of enthusiasm. I watched his fingers work, not knowing what to say to breach the air of awkward discomfort that quickly enveloped us. It didn't help that half of the cafeteria was openly watching us while the other half pretended not to be. Before long, it felt like the walls were closing in on me.

"We're not doing anything wrong, Bella," he said quietly. "The attention will blow over quickly."

"How did you know the staring was still bothering me?"

"Your posture; it's resembles mine when I'm in an uncomfortable situation."

I noted that his posture was currently unaffected, and I had no explanation for why he seemed so comfortable. "How do you know you're not the problem?" I joked.

"When I'm the problem, you won't look me in the eyes when you speak." He didn't look up from his food to reply, like it was all so matter-of-fact that it didn't require his attention

The precision of his observations was bewildering, and I'm sure shock registered on my face.

"It sounds like you have me figured out," I mumbled, trying to remember how people knew they were in the Twilight Zone. Something about a middle ground between light and shadow, or was it science and superstition? Either way, something weird was happening.

"Quite the contrary, but I'm learning." A tiny smile played at the corners of his lips, hinting at some thought or emotion that I couldn't identify. It was as much a mystery to me as the change in Edward was. I was at a loss.

When the bell rang to signal that lunch was over, I quickly got up. Edward stood up, too, grabbing his tray and following me to the door. For a moment, I wondered if he was going to walk me to class. I half expected Rod Serling's voice to start narrating my life: "You're about to meet Bella. A mild-mannered girl, age seventeen, on the verge of being given everything she's ever wanted but afraid to wake up and find out it's all been a dream." Edward's question pulled me out of Rod's voiceover.

"What do you say?"

"Say to what?" I asked, feeling my cheeks ignite.

"Can I drive you home after school?"

Stunned, I blinked at him. How did he know I needed a ride? And how could he be so calm when ten kids could have easily heard his question? For that matter, where was Rod's voice with his insightful little summary when I needed his guidance?

He leaned into me and whispered, "It's just a ride, Bella."

"Sure," I murmured, feeling like I was having some kind of out-of-body experience. This wasn't really happening, was it?

"I'll meet you at my car after school then."

He smiled and left. I stood there with my mouth open, waiting for some confirmation that I wasn't dreaming. Slowly I began to register the noise around me, noticing the people filing past me, and I realized I didn't want to know. If this was I dream, I wanted it. I wanted it so badly I could taste it.

Rod's voice started up, better late than never.

They say a dream takes only a second or so, and yet in that second a man can live a lifetime. He can suffer and die, and who's to say which is the greater reality: the one we know or the one in dreams, between heaven, the sky, the earth in the Twilight Zone*.

As I walked to class, I tried to calm down before my brain got ahead of itself, but it was futile. I was already considering the possibility that Edward liked me back, and my mind was beginning to fill in the blanks with an imagined future that wasn't mine.

I was fucked.

Maybe.

A/N: The passage above marked with this symbol "*" is from The Twilight Zone, Perchance to Dream, Episode 1.9, 1959.

Overthink much? Analysisward has surfaced.;) Do you think it was good for him to analyze everything so deeply or was did it just confuse the issues for him? Did he make the right choice to go public or should he have denied everything?

How do we feel about the Edward's conversation with Charlie? Or about Charlie, for that matter?

Did Jasper's observations surprise you?

I'm happy I finally had the chance to include some Rosalie. What do you think about her advice to Bella to stay away from Edward?

And last but certainly not least, how do you feel about the conversation between Edward and Bella. Is he finally going to admit his feelings to her?