AN: Thanks to ShearEnvy, my gorgeous beta and friend, and to everyone who reads (and reviews). Also, thank you to ABC for WipeOut, which distracts my six year old for an hour so I can write in (relative) peace.

Chapter 8: "Stumble"
"Her lips on his could tell him better than all her stumbling words." ~Margaret Mitchell

Once, a few years ago, I got the bright idea to make my own pickles. I ate a lot of them, going through at least a jar a week, and decided they'd be better homemade. I made a trip to the store, blowing a fortune on canning jars, cucumbers, vinegar, spices and equipment and spent an entire afternoon preparing them.

They'd take at least a week, Esme had told me. A week. I figured that was easy enough. All I had to do was wait.

The seven days that followed were pure torture. It was like watching paint dry, each hour that passed feeling like an eternity. The jars sat in the refrigerator, taunting me every time I opened the door. By the time a week was up, I was practically salivating, the anticipation nearly driving me insane.

I grabbed a jar and pried the lid off, pulling out a single heavenly spear. I bit down on it, prepared to taste the greatest fucking pickle ever made, but instead all I got was a mouthful of cucumber.

They weren't ready yet, Esme said when I called her. They'd need to marinate for probably another week.

Seven more days. There was no fucking way I'd last another week. I drove directly to the closest store and paid four dollars for a jar of Vlasic pickles, giving up on my own.

So when I woke up this morning and made my way downstairs to find Charlie sitting at the kitchen table with the Saturday edition of The Seattle Times, I had to do a double take.

"Have I seriously been here for a week already?" I asked, stunned. It felt like no time at passed at all. How the hell had it been seven days?

"Yes," Charlie answered as he closed his paper and looked at me. "Time sure flies when you're having fun, huh?"

I grimaced. Fun.

The week had disturbingly turned into a blur of flowers, as Tanya had asked me to go along with her to the florist a few more times. I hadn't wanted to, but all it took was a hopeful smile from my best friend to make me agree. I grinned and beared it, tolerating her company for the cause. A cause, I should add, I was starting to lose my grip on. I had time, I told myself. It would all come together...it had to.

Right?

But time was quickly slipping away without me even noticing. I only had two weeks left... a mere fourteen days to win Edward over. I wasn't even positive I could make pickles right in that amount of time, and I was expecting to break up a wedding I'd somehow started to help plan instead?

I was failing... horribly. I needed to do something fast. My plan to get to know Tanya hadn't really worked, as spending time with her was getting me nowhere. She talked about herself incessantly, but it was never anything helpful. The list of things I knew about her had certainly grown, though.

She'd been a cheerleader in high school. She wasn't big on music, but she did love reality TV. The Bachelor was her favorite show, because the idea of a whirlwind romance where a man swept her off of her feet and carried her away had always been her dream.

Go figure.

I, on the other hand, didn't believe it was possible for love to happen so quickly. Good relationships were built on friendship. How much could you really understand a person in just a few weeks?

I'd also learned Tanya's best friend's name was Kate. She was her maid of honor and was supposed to fly in this week for her dress fitting. Kate, too, had been a redheaded cheerleader. They practically shared a brain, according to Tanya.

The Bobbsey Twins. Just fucking great. I couldn't wait.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked, sitting down across from Charlie. I hadn't seen much of him all week. He looked extremely tired, and I noticed his hair was grayer than I remembered. He desperately needed a vacation.

"Of course, Bells. What's up?"

I hesitated, not entirely sure how to go about the question. "So, let's say there's someone you're suspicious of... you think there's something off with them. How would you go about figuring out what it is?"

"Depends," he replied, his expression falling. He looked concerned. "Is it serious?"

"Define serious."

"Well, could they be arrested for it?"

"Uh, I don't know," I said. "Can't really say, since I don't know what it is."

"Then how do you know something's off?"

"I just feel it."

He nodded like he understood and stared at me for a moment as he seemed to ponder my question. "Well, professionally, first I'd check their records..."

"Like phone records?" I interrupted, remembering that Esme said Tanya stayed glued to her cell phone. "How do I get someone's phone records?"

"You get a warrant for them."

"How do I get a warrant?"

He snickered. "You don't, Bella. You have to have probable cause and get a judge to sign off on it."

Shit. That wasn't much help. "What other records are there?"

He shrugged. "Background checks, but I'm not sure how much good it would do. You have to know what you're looking for in order to really find anything. Intuition is only useful if it leads to evidence, you know."

"Yeah, I know," I muttered.

"Is this anything you want to talk to me about?" he asked, seeming anxious. "I know I wasn't the greatest father when it came to, uh, talking, but if you want to talk now..."

"No, it's all right," I replied. "I'll figure it out."

"Are you sure you want to?" he asked when I stood back up. "Sometimes it's better to just let things be. When you open the flood gates, you can't always control what comes out of them."

I looked at him with surprise, seeing the apprehension on his face. "Oh God, please tell me you don't really like her!"

His eyes widened with shock. He looked panicked, trapped. Jesus, what happened to Charlie's poker face? He'd never been that transparent before.

"Who?" he asked quickly.

"Tanya," I said. "Who else would I be talking about?"

He stared at me for a moment before his body relaxed and he cracked a smile, shaking his head. "I don't know. You confused me. I wasn't sure what was going on."

"I think you need more sleep," I said. "You're working too hard or something."

"You're probably right," he said, standing up. "I have the day off, so I think I'll head out to La Push and catch some fish. Just relax a bit on the boat."

"Sounds like a plan," I said. "Tell Billy I said hey, will you?"

"Sure thing, kiddo," he said. "Have a good day and try to stay out of trouble."

"I always try," I muttered. "It just doesn't usually work."

Charlie left a few minutes later and I got dressed, heading out right behind him. I strolled over to the Cullen's house, walking right in the front door. I heard voices coming from the dining room, surprised to see Carlisle home when I walked in the room. He was sitting in his usual seat at the table, flipping through the newspaper, with Esme directly across from him. Between them was Edward, poking at a plate of food with a fork. It was scrambled eggs smothered in ketchup, exactly how he liked them, but he didn't seem very interested in the food.

"Good morning, Bella," Esme said, smiling warmly. "Help yourself to some breakfast."

Edward's head snapped up when he heard my name, his eyes meeting mine immediately. The corner of his mouth turned up into a half smile as I took a seat across from him.

"Thank you, I'm totally starving," I said, grabbing an empty plate and filling it with bacon and fruit from the platters on the table. "I was going to cook for Charlie, but he decided to go to Billy's."

"Down to La Push?" Carlisle asked. "He should've invited me. I could use some time away."

"Don't you have work?" I asked him, taking a bite of my bacon.

"No, I have a free day," he replied.

"It's not exactly a free day," Esme interjected. "You have to go look at tuxes this afternoon. You've put it off long enough."

I tensed and noticed both guys did, too. "Glad I have nothing to do with that," I muttered.

"You should come along and help," Edward suggested.

"No, thanks," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not a fan of penguin suits with Bozo the Clown bow-ties, so my opinion wouldn't help. I'd say they all look funny."

"So what would you have me get married in?" he asked as he stared at me, taking a bite of his eggs.

I shrugged, eyeing him curiously. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans, the most casual I'd seen him since I arrived. "What's wrong with what you have on?"

He chuckled, glancing down at himself. "You'd marry me in dirty jeans and a t-shirt, Swan?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's not really about the clothes, so I don't think it matters, personally."

"I doubt Tanya would agree," Edward said.

Of course she wouldn't. "Pity," I replied. "You look just fine to me."

He smirked. "Have you been checking me out now?"

I rolled my eyes as Esme cleared her throat. "Okay, you two. You're giving me deja vu here."

Carlisle closed the paper and pushed it across the table toward Esme, but Edward grabbed it before she could. He opened it, ignoring his mother's protests, and flipped through the pages quickly. He settled on one about halfway through, and I felt my stomach drop when he glanced at me over the top of the newspaper. He smiled mischievously and cleared his throat. "Vito Stella's, 1763 Main Street, Seattle. Two out of five stars."

I felt my face grow warm from nervousness as he started to read my review aloud. "I visited Vito Stella's anticipating a fantastic Italian delicacy suited for the average diner, but instead what I received was extremely expensive and deeply ordinary. The food itself seemed to be cooked adequately, with the exception of a few wayward ingredients, but it was not particularly great quality. If what they serve is authentic Italian cuisine, as their branding suggests, someone needs to notify Italy that they've been doing it wrong all along."

He glanced up at me again, raising his eyebrows. "A little mean there, Swan."

"Not mean... truthful," I said, shrugging. "The food was shit."

He laughed, turning back to the newspaper. He skimmed the review a bit, coming to the end of it. "The only positive aspect of Vito Stella's I can report with a clear conscience is the service. The staff is friendly and very welcoming, almost to the point where you want to invite them to come home with you when you leave. So while your meal will likely disappoint, the people you meet there certainly won't."

I laughed, knowing Jake was going to have a fit when he read that, and Edward looked up at me again, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Something tells me there's a story behind that."

"Yeah, there is," I replied. "It's not acceptable breakfast conversation, though."

"Oh come on, I wanna hear it," he said. "Don't act all sophisticated now, Swan. We used to have burping contests at this table. We aren't exactly classy."

From the corner of my eye, I saw Carlisle nod, and my lingering blush deepened with embarrassment at the reminder. Okay, so maybe he'd been right - I hadn't been girly back then. "We were sixteen, Edward. I like to think I've grown up since then."

"Well, I like to think you haven't," he countered. "So tell me."

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Yes."

"No."

He closed the paper, setting it off to the side, and leaned forward. "Please?"

His voice was soft and I sighed, shaking my head as he stared at me intently. "But it's really nothing. My friend met a guy there and ended up, you know, hooking up with him. Said I had to give them a good review, because the take-out was excellent."

"I take it she liked the guy?" Edward asked.

"He," I corrected him. "My friend is a he, and yes, he definitely liked him. The guy apparently liked him, too, even though he doesn't usually, you know, like guys."

Edward nearly choked on his drink as he laughed and Esme grabbed the paper before he could pick it back up. "It's a shame that restaurant is so bad. I was going to have Carlisle take me there this weekend."

Carlisle looked at her with surprise, obviously the first he'd heard of it. "You were?"

"Yes. I figured we could give the kids the house for the night."

"Oh, well, that sounds like a great idea," Carlisle said. "I'm sure Bella would be able to suggest a place."

He looked at me and I nodded. "Uh, how about Montague's? Have you eaten there? Best food I've had in a long time."

"Oh goodness, we've tried, but their reservations are backed up for weeks. There's no way we'll get a table there."

"I can get you one," I said, shrugging. "Just tell me when."

Esme looked shocked. "How about tonight?"

"Time?"

"Uh, around eight or so?"

I nodded and popped a piece of bacon in my mouth before pulling out my phone. It was a fairly clear day, no rain in sight, so I was able to get two bars worth of service. I dialed Angela's cell phone number and she answered on the first ring. "Angela Webber speaking."

Always so formal, even though she would've seen it was me. "Hey, it's Bella. Can you get me a reservation at Montague's tonight at around eight?"

She hesitated. "Depends. Do you have that Bella Italia review ready to go for me yet?"

"Almost," I lied. I hadn't even started it. "I'll have it to you first thing Monday."

"Okay, then. What name do you want it under?"

"Cullen," I replied.

"I'll call them and get back to you in a few minutes."

I hung up and went back to eating, devouring my plate of food quickly. After a few minutes my phone chimed with a message and I glanced at it. "Got you one for 8:15."

Esme made a noise that sounded strangely like a squeal and closed the paper, standing up. "Thank you, sweetheart!" she said, hugging me quickly before leaving the room, mumbling something about finding something to wear. Carlisle finished his food and stood up as she left, excusing himself as well. I glanced across the table at Edward and saw he was watching me peculiarly.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Weird seeing you have connections."

"Why?"

"I don't know," he said. "I'm kind of jealous, I guess. You're big in the whole food scene that you love. I wish I had something I felt that way about."

"Don't you?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Not anymore."

"I can't," I said, shaking my head furiously as he shoved the little plastic card in my face. "This is crazy, Edward."

"Come on, Swan."

"No," I said. "You'll be perfectly fine doing it alone."

"You're wrong," he insisted. "I need you."

"No, you don't," I said, a traitorous part of me soaring at his words. He needed me. God, how I wanted to believe that. "I can't do it."

"Why not?" he asked. "Give me one good reason why."

"Because it's illegal."

"That's not a good reason," he said, laughing.

I looked at him incredulously. "I don't think Charlie would agree. He'd have both of our asses if he knew!"

"That's the thing, Swan. He'll never know," he said. "Please? Don't you want to come with me?"

"Of course I do, but..."

"So come on," he said. "I really do need you there. It won't be the same without you. You're my best friend. You know what this means to me."

I sighed, frowning. "Fine," I muttered, taking the card from him. It was small, concealable, but I had a sneaking suspicion it was going to cause me a world of trouble. In fact, I was surprised the offending object didn't burn my hand.

He smirked. "Thanks. I'm gonna go get ready. See you in a bit."

He ran to his house, practically skipping from excitement, and I, begrudgingly, headed inside. I showered and brushed my hair, letting it hang loose. I dressed in a pair of jeans and a black shirt, second guessing myself immediately and changing. I went through a few outfits, for the first time in my life nervous about what to wear. An hour later I was standing in front of the mirror, once again wearing the jeans and black shirt and feeling completely inadequate.

I went downstairs at a quarter 'til eight, finding Charlie sitting on the couch. He looked at me with surprise. "You're dressed," he said. "Do you have plans?"

"Yes," I answered nervously. My heart pounded hard against my rib cage, the rush of blood making me dizzy. Charlie was going to know. He could probably smell the illegal on me, the stench only detectable with a cop's nose. "Edward invited me to hang out. We're gonna, uh... I think we're..."

"That's nice," he said, turning away from me. He didn't wait for an explanation. He was probably so damn happy I was actually going somewhere on a Saturday night that he wouldn't have flinched if I told him we planned to rob a bank. Besides, he trusted Edward. "Have a good time."

"Yeah, thanks," I mumbled, heading out the front door. I started next door the same time Edward came outside, wearing a pair of jeans and a gray RUSH shirt.

"You ready?" he asked.

"No."

He snickered and climbed in his car, unlocking the passenger door for me. I got in and glanced in the backseat as he started to drive, seeing his guitar lying across the seat. He'd gotten it quite a few years ago, a hand-me-down from his dad. Carlisle had once played in college, but apparently gave up the scene when it started interfering with his studies. I'd never heard him play, but Esme said he was quite good.

"I think the better question would be are you ready?" I asked.

Edward smirked. "I've been ready since the day I was born."

The drive to Port Angeles was a blur, my nerves running rampant as we stood in the line in front of the 21+ club. I pulled the sinister little plastic card from my back pocket, really looking at it for the first time. "Roberta Hedge?" I asked, reading the name. "Who the hell is Roberta Hedge?"

"You... for tonight."

"Why?"

"It was the first name I thought of."

I shook my head. He couldn't think of something normal? "Well, who are you?"

"You'll see."

When we reached the front of the line, I handed the ID to the guy at the door. My legs shook, itching to run away as I watched him apprehensively. I waited for him to grab a hold of me, to demand to see my real ID or threaten to call the police on me. I imagined them calling Charlie and him having to come pick me up at the police station, the awkward conversation that would ensue as a result. But instead, the guy just handed it back and motioned for me to go inside.

Edward handed the guy his fake ID, coming in behind me. He paid the cover charge and we went into the main area, finding a seat at a small table near the bar. The place was hazy, the scent of cigarette smoke thick in the air. Edward excused himself, returning a moment later with two beers.

"I can't drink that," I said when he set one in front of me.

"Yes, you can," he said. "It's only one. It'll wear off before we even leave."

He started drinking his and I shrugged, taking a sip. I expected it to be disgusting, because the stuff they got their hands on in Forks at the parties tasted like I imagined warm pee would taste, but this was surprisingly smooth. I took another sip, following it up with a huge gulp, and before I knew it the bottle was empty.

"Jesus, Swan, are you thirsty?" Edward asked, grabbing my empty bottle and disappearing. He returned a moment later with another.

"You said just one," I reminded him, but it didn't stop me from taking another drink.

"You're not driving. No harm if you drink. Maybe it'll help you relax."

And relax was exactly what it made me do. Before I knew it I was buzzed, feeling weightless as I joked around with Edward. My walls crumbled, my will-power diminished. Nothing mattered but that moment, nothing existing but him and that smoky club.

Live music played, from hardcore to acoustic. It was amateur night, but not just any amateurs... the acts were chosen from audition tapes sent to the club. Someone mentioned talent scouts in the audience and it reminded me of the people that used to come and watch Edward play baseball.

More beers. More laughs. My body was warm and tingly, and he was the most beautiful boy in the world. I could feel it in the air, a spark between us I'd never really felt before. It ran deep into my bones, taking over my senses. "I need to tell you something," I blurted out over the sound of the music, so loud people around us turned to look. I had to tell him how I felt, and I had to do it now.

Edward raised his eyebrows curiously. He looked amused. "Yeah?"

"Yes," I declared. "I..."

Before I could say anything else, a voice came over the microphone, calling for someone named James Page.

"Sorry, Swan, that's my cue," Edward said, standing up and grabbing his guitar. My brow furrowed in confusion. James Page. Jimmy Page. The moment it struck me, I started laughing hysterically. Roberta Hedge. "I'm Robert Plant!"

He chuckled and winked, heading to the stage.

I'd heard Edward play guitar probably a hundred times, had listened to him sing double that, but none of it even touched watching him up on that stage. He played with a passion I'd never witnessed before, his voice oozing confidence. His tone was scratchy, guttural, and sent shivers down my spine. He sung every word like he meant it, like he needed them to survive. The music was his soul, the air he breathed. It sustained him, and as he let it out I drank in every drop.

It was over all too quick. I jumped up on my chair, adrenaline surging through me, and screamed for him at the top of my lungs. He grabbed me by the waist when he got back to the table and pulled me down, laughing with his arms wrapped around me. "Calm down, Swan. I wasn't that good."

"You were amazing," I said. "It was beautiful. Fantastic. Fucking wonderful. You belong on that stage!"

His face lit up, his green eyes sparkling. "You really think so?"

"Yes."

The smile that graced his lips made my heart race, tempting me, calling to me. I was drunk, sky high, and he was sitting on cloud nine with a glow that took my breath away. I heard his voice in the background, asking me something, but I couldn't understand what it was. All I could focus on was that mouth, so I answered his question the only way I knew how.

I kissed him.

"Let's go somewhere tonight," I suggested, pushing my empty plate aside. I reached across the table and grabbed another piece of bacon, munching on it.

"Who?"

"Us. You know, me, you... her," I said, it striking me at that moment that I'd yet to see Tanya this morning. "Where is she, anyway?"

"Upstairs," he replied. "She wasn't feeling well this morning, so she laid back down."

"Oh. That sucks," I said. "So I guess doing something is out of the question."

"No, I'm down with it," he said. "I'll see how she's doing, but if she's still feeling bad I'm sure she won't mind if I go."

I wanted to scoff. Was he that oblivious? Of course she'd mind. "We can go to Port Angeles. You think that club's still there?"

There was a spark in his eyes. He remembered that day as well as I did. It was the night that really started it all.

"I doubt it, Swan. That was a lot of years ago."

"True," I said. "We can see, though."

"Yeah, cool," he said, pushing his chair back. "I'm going to go check on Tanya and see if Dad is ready to go get tuxes. I'll see you in a bit, Swan."

I sat there for a minute alone, before deciding to clean up from breakfast. I put the leftovers away and was washing up the dishes when Esme walked in. "Isabella Marie! You know better! I would've gotten those dishes."

"I know," I said, wiping my hands on a towel. "I was just trying to help."

"Well, thank you, but it's unnecessary," she said, scooting me out of the way to take over. "So what are you going to do this afternoon?"

"Uh, I dunno. Probably nothing. Why?"

"I told Tanya I'd go to the caterer for her. Figured I'd take you along, since this is your area of expertise, after all."

Fuck. "Uh, okay. That sounds... fun."

"I don't know if I'd call it fun," Esme said, "but we're doing it for Edward."

The next three hours were spent once again helping to plan a wedding I hoped never took place. I tasted dozens of samples, and somewhere between the crab cakes and the sirloin I started to get really frustrated.

What the hell was I doing? I only had two more weeks!

"The salmon," I said finally. "Definitely the salmon."

The caterer smiled excitedly, while Esme just looked at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course. Edward loves it."

"What about Tanya?"

She'll fucking hate it."I'm sure she'll be fine with it," I said with a shrug.

Esme smiled. "Salmon it is, then."

"And the crab cakes. I mean, they're getting married here, so the local cuisine makes the most sense in my opinion."

"Yeah, that's a great idea," Esme said. "An array of seafood options."

"Yep," I said, smiling to myself. "Perfect."

"...and I totally ordered seafood!" I said. I expected to feel bad after intentionally screwing up the catering, but I didn't. In fact, I almost felt satisfied. Clearly, I was an immature thirteen year old again deep down inside.

A fake, dramatic gasp came through the line. "No, you didn't!" Jake said. "Hardcore."

I rolled my eyes. "She hates it."

"You're one bad ass bitch, Bella."

His sarcasm was getting on my nerves. "It's gonna piss her off, Jake."

"And what does that accomplish? The reception isn't until after they're already married. And so what, she misses the meal? From what you said, she'd probably puke it back up anyway."

Shit. "Good point."

"What's he even see in her, anyway?"

"Uh, I don't know," I said. "Haven't figured that out yet."

"Well, have you asked him?"

"No."

"Why the hell not?"

Because I'm afraid of the answer."I don't know."

He sighed loudly. "What am I going to do with you, Jezebella?"

"Love me," I said, shrugging.

He laughed. "Do I have to?"

"Yes," I said. "Somebody does."

It was nearing eight when there was a knock at the front door. I practically skipped over to it, expecting it to be Edward, but was taken aback when I was instead met by a cheerful looking Tanya.

"Uh, hey," I said, smiling politely. She was wearing a black and white dress, her hair curled and pulled back. Bright red lipstick accented plump lips. "You look... not sick."

"I'm feeling so much better, thanks!" she said, brushing past me and into the house. Her high heels clicked against the wooden floor as she looked around, and I suddenly felt uncomfortable having her in my space. It wasn't my house, but it was where I'd grown up. Photos of me adorned the walls, from the awkward baby fat phases to the frizzy hair days.

She didn't belong here.

"Come on in," I muttered, closing the front door. I turned to her, watching as she surveyed the place I always considered home. It wasn't big, but it had always been big enough for us. I wondered what her house looked like and imagined some big mansion on a hill somewhere, where the sun always fucking shined.

Tanya picked up a picture frame from a small table against the wall and I strained my neck to see which one it was. I smiled when I realized it was me and Edward; a photo Esme had taken when we were kids. I wanted to guess we were around six or seven, during one of the afternoons spent down at First Beach.

"I have something I need to talk to you about," Tanya said, setting the picture back down. "It's really, really important."

"Really, really?" I asked. Did she know? Did he tell her? Had she figured me out?

"Yes," she replied, turning to me. "I told you my friend Kate was going to be my maid of honor, but I need another bridesmaid. Edward has this friend of his, Emmett, and a cousin named Jasper. I need someone."

"Oh." I breathed a sigh of relief. That wasn't such a big deal. "So do you want me to find you someone or something?"

She laughed. "No, silly. I want you to tell me you'll do it."

My eyes widened in shock. "You want me to be a bridesmaid?"

"Yes," she said. "Please say yes!"

"Uh, I mean, I'm not really big on these kinds of things," I stammered. "How about Edward's cousin, Rosalie?"

"I don't know Rosalie."

"But you don't know me, either."

"Yes, I do," she said. "I feel like I do, anyway. Please? It'll mean the world to Edward! He wanted you to be his best man, but I told him that was ridiculous. You're a woman! You can't do that! So I just know he'll be on top of the world with you in the wedding."

She stared at me imploringly and I just stood there, frantically trying to come up with something to say. I was drawing a blank, though. I was stunned she'd even ask me. "I, uh... I don't know."

"Just think about it," she said. "I think it'll be great."

"Okay," I said hesitantly.

She smiled and nodded. "Great. Anyway, I told Edward I'd come get you so we could leave soon. Are you almost ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

She gave me a peculiar look. "Are you sure?"

I glanced down, suddenly self conscious. I was dressed casually in jeans and a blouse, but I thought I looked decent. "Is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"No, I was just checking," she said. "Come on, then. Let's get going."

I grabbed my stuff quickly and followed Tanya out the door. Edward came outside when we reached the Cullen's and my eyes scanned him carefully. Once again he was dressed up, wearing black slacks and a striped button-up shirt with black shoes. His hair was slicked down and I itched to reach over and mess it up with my hand. "You ready, Dr. Cullen?" I asked him.

He scrunched up his nose and looked around. "You didn't invite my dad, did you?"

"Nope, just you," I said. "Edward Cullen, MD."

He chuckled. "Just Edward will do."

I shook my head. "You're not Edward. Edward wouldn't go out on a Saturday night dressed like that."

"New Edward does," he said. "Grown up Edward."

"New Edward?" I asked. He nodded. "There was nothing wrong with old Edward."

He frowned. "Not everyone would agree."

The old building still stood, tucked in the heart of Port Angeles. The bricks were worn and faded, cracking a bit at the corners, but the sign hanging above the door appeared freshly painted. Blue Horizon, it read in bright white letters on a hazy blue background.

"I can't believe it's still here," Edward said. There were a dozen or so people standing in line, loud rock music filtering out from inside.

"I know, right?" I said excitedly. "Let's go in!"

He chuckled as I grabbed his arm, pulling him into the line, while Tanya followed behind. "This place?" she said apprehensively, glancing at Edward. "Is this the kind of place you want to go?"

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "Roberta and I came here back in the day."

Edward looked at me with amusement and I laughed. "You remember that, James?"

"I told you, Swan. I remember everything."

Tanya stated at us with confusion. "Who are Roberta and James?"

Edward told her the story of our first trip to the Blue Horizon as we waited in line - leaving out a few details- and when he finished she still looked confused. "Who are Jimmy Page and Robert Plant?"

Edward just stared at her, his expression dumbfounded like he couldn't comprehend what she was asking. I smiled. Score one for me. "They're musicians," I said. "They were in the group Led Zeppelin, one of Edward's all-time favorites."

She looked almost panicked. "Oh."

"Do you remember who my favorite is, Swan?" he asked, focusing his attention on me.

"Of course," I scoffed. "James Taylor."

He smirked. "I remember yours, too."

I felt the blush rising to my cheeks. "That's nice."

"Who's yours?" Tanya asked.

"NSYNC," Edward answered before I could even consider doing it myself, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Oh, I know them! Justin Timberlake is one of my favorite actors."

My brow furrowed. "He's so not an actor. I don't care what he says. He's a musician that just happens to have been in a few movies."

"He's not even that great of a musician," Edward said. I narrowed my eyes and shoved him as he laughed.

"Sacrilege!" I said. "Take it back!"

He shook his head. "Never."

We reached the front of the line fairly quickly and the bouncer held his hand out for our IDs. I handed him mine and he waved me inside, but held his hand out to stop Tanya when she gave him hers. "Sorry, 21 and over."

I tensed, having not even considered the fact that she wouldn't be old enough. "Oh come on, I'll be 21 next week," she said.

The bouncer shook his head, handing her license back. "Come back next week, then."

Edward frowned, pulling Tanya out of line, and I stepped out with them. We stood on the sidewalk for a moment in silence before I cleared my throat. "There's a place across the street. We can try there," I suggested.

Tanya perked up again as she looked over, but Edward just shrugged. We started across the street, the thumping bass of pop music greeting us as we approached.

We reached the front of the line and Edward glanced behind him at Blue Horizon, a wistful look on his face. We got in without any hassle, and the scene that greeted us with more modern. Edward headed straight for the bar and Tanya grabbed my arm, stopping me when I tried to follow him. "Come dance with me!" she said.

I stared at her with horror. "Dance?"

"Yes, dance!"

She pulled me out onto the dance floor before I could object and I stood there, stunned, as she started dancing. She was jumping and twirling, her movements so exaggerated that it drew the attention of the people around us. I swayed a bit to the beat, so as not to look like a complete idiot, but I felt completely out of place.

The song changed and she squealed excitedly. "I love this song!" she declared.

I stopped moving, looking at her incredulously. "Is this the freaking Spice Girls?"

"Yes!"

I shook my head as she grew even more excited, throwing her hands up and shaking her ass as she bounced to the beat. I slipped away from her before she could stop me and joined Edward at the bar. "I need a beer," I said, slipping onto the stool beside him. "STAT."

He chuckled. "You don't want one of those fruity drinks with an umbrella?"

"Ugh, no. You know me better than that."

He waved for the bartender, ordering me a Heineken. I took a drink, relieved to know the alcohol would soon be pumping through my veins. Edward sat quietly beside me, smiling as he gazed out onto the dance floor. I followed the trail his eyes made, leading straight to Tanya. She looked absolutely ridiculous, standing out above everyone else. I wasn't the best dancer, but she had no rhythm at all.

"I don't get it," I said, shaking my head.

Edward looked at me. "Don't get what?"

"Her," I admitted. "The two of you. I just... I don't really get it."

Edward nodded, glancing back out at Tanya. "She makes me forget," he said.

"Forget what?" I asked.

He sighed, taking a drink of his beer. "What needs to be forgotten."

He didn't elaborate so I wasn't certain, but I had a sneaking suspicion what he meant was me.

Tanya danced. Edward laughed. I drank.

Tanya danced some more. Edward laughed some more. I drank some more.

Tanya was tired. Edward was happy. I was drunk.

I didn't know how she managed it, but after dancing for nearly an hour straight in high heels she still looked as fresh as she had when we got there. She'd shed not a single drop of sweat. It defied the laws of psychics.

"I need some water," Tanya said as she squeezed in between me and Edward. She waved her hand at the bartender and he brought her a bottle of water, making a point to twist the top off for her. She smiled sweetly, thanking him, and he winked in response. I looked over at Edward, shocked, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes were fixed on Tanya, the crooked grin I loved so much aligning his lips.

That was my grin. He was my Edward.

"I need another beer," I grumbled, holding up my empty bottle to alert the bartender. He brought one to me, damn near forgetting to pop off the top. He didn't even look at me, just walked away.

"Did Isabella tell you the great news?" Tanya asked, squeezing between Edward's legs. He put his hands on her hips, pulling her closer to him. "She offered to be a bridesmaid!"

I nearly choked on my beer and Edward glanced at me with surprise. "Did she?"

"Yes," Tanya said. I just stared at her, at a loss for words. In what universe had I offered such a thing? "Isn't that awesome? It's going to be wonderful!"

"Yeah, that's great, babe," Edward said. "My two favorite girls."

Tanya grinned, wrapping her arms around him, and I looked away. My stomach felt jittery and my chest ached.

They hugged. I gulped down my beer.

They kissed. I ordered yet another.

Edward's hand slid under Tanya's dress. I asked for a shot of tequila.

She giggled and slapped Edward's hand away playfully. I told the bartender he may as well just leave the bottle.

The rest of the night was a blur. I wasn't sure how I got there, but I vaguely recalled sitting on the bathroom floor at the end of the night, sobbing as I poured my heart out like never before.

See ya next week