A/N: Big love to the reviewers! We all dated ourselves with those cars. Mine was a 1984 Olds Cutlass.

The quick re-cap. In present day, Bella is missing, and Edward has left his family and is on a plane to try to find her. Going back to the beginning, Edward was bored. He played naughty goth games with humans. He had sex with two women. One was Tanya.

One correction. I am going to go back and change this on "Opening." I mistakenly referred to Edward's time on earth as 108 years. That would be present day. At the time he met Bella, it has only been 102, which means they met in 2003. Sorry for the confusion. Just got lost in my own head.

Now, he meets Bella and we find out who is other sex partner was.

Chapter Two: Pieces and Pawns

EPOV

The first time is often the best. The adrenaline is highest; the risk greatest. Of course, with great risk, comes great reward.

Most peoples' lives are measured by firsts. And perhaps that's the way it should be. Having done something a first time implies you attempted it again. It says something about the risks you took, what you learned, how you grew.

When you've been around as long as we have, firsts are harder and harder to come by.

I got my first diploma in 1923. It was a long time coming. Delayed by five years due to my change, moves, and the addition of Esme. I remember feeling both pride and relief that I'd finally accomplished something. I was actually able to go on for a college degree that first time around. I was Pre-Med. Bound and determined to be just like Carlisle. Between his compassion and his control, he represented perfection to me. I suppose he still does. However many diplomas and degrees later, I wasn't any closer to being just like him than I was that first graduation.

I stopped counting the diplomas about twenty five years ago. It just got old. And depressing. Unlike the Silver Ghost, receiving a diploma hadn't lighted a spark I needed to chase time and time again. It was just one more time on the merry go round.

My impending diploma from Forks High School clearly didn't represent a first. Or even a last. Just another. No different from all the others.

We never got to school early. Or late. We were always right on time. We didn't want to be any more conspicuous than we already were. Five vampires trying to pass as humans in Forks by acting as teenage foster children to a young couple. We didn't exactly blend. Add to the fact that four of the five were obviously coupled with each other, and we were the proverbial sore thumb.

Most students arrived early. It was social time. They cruised hallways or stood by their cars when it wasn't pouring rain. They flirted and fought. Gossiped and gloated.

We drifted in right before the bell rang.

Conversations assaulted me before we got anywhere near the parking lot.

I can't believe you got grounded for that. Your parents suck.

Did you hear Mike Newton and Tyler Crowley got into a fight at that party this weekend?

Can you meet me in the car at lunch?

Oh I saw her. She was hot enough. I'm hoping I have her in class.

I had forgotten the talk of the school for the past week. Chief Swan's daughter, Isabella, was transferring to our little school today. Forks High was an interesting place. It was the only school I had ever attended where new people were actually welcomed. In the beginning, we had been too.

It probably had something to do with the fact that there are so few newcomers to the town. Though like any school, the cliques were fiercely loyal to their group statuses, here, rather than turning their backs on the uninitiated, there was almost a competition to see where in the lunch room the fresh meat would sit.

We turned the town on its head when we refused every invitation and sat together. We did make some efforts early on though. Alice dragged me to a couple of parties. She didn't think Jasper could handle that kind of close proximity to vulnerable humans.

The coaches desperately wanted Emmett to join the football team, and he and Carlisle talked for a long time about the possibility before deciding it was too dangerous. He told them he had an old knee injury, and after consulting with his doctor, the risk was just too great. Half the excuse was true anyway. Alice was devastated. She was hoping it would be her excuse to try out for cheerleading.

I had rejected more girls than I could count. Actually, I could count. I'd been asked out in some form or another fifty six times. A good chunk of them all by Jessica Stanley.

Yes, I could imagine that date. She would spend the day at a Port Angeles spa in advance of the evening to try to look older. She would swing her hips too much, laugh too frequently, smile too broadly and bat her eyelids too often. All while wearing too much make up, too tight clothes, and hair too far teased. We would head to some teeny bopper movie. The worst genre in my opinion. They were only entertaining if they had vampires in them. Then, I would get to listen to her fantasize about me—unimaginatively I might add—for the better part of the date. She would spend hours assuming an inevitable kiss, and anticipating more. A feel, a finger, maybe even a fuck.

I told her my life was too complicated for a relationship right now. She took that to mean I was dark and had secrets. She chased me harder. When I didn't even look at the breasts she's squeezed into a push up bra and stuck out at me in class one day, she decided I was gay.

After that, I stopped talking to the other students much. In time, they began to leave us alone. When they took note that our difference wasn't just "new kid" odd, but weird odd, they hung back. It was instinctual really. When humans tried to get too close, they invariably heard whatever ominous voice in told them to say away—danger ahead. And we were left alone at the lunch table. Alice was bummed, of course, hoping this was finally the place where she could be one of them.

She still smiled and waved at her human classmates though they rarely even noticed.

Everywhere I went, people were abuzz with talk of this new girl. The boys were excited by the shiny new toy, and the girls saw a pet project. I gathered this Isabella, Bella she'd always corrected, was average, plain. Good potential the girls said, grateful she wasn't more competition. Nice body, the boys cracked.

By lunch time, everyone was anxious to see which table she would occupy.

"Hey, are you with us man?" Emmett asked rather loudly for our table.

I snapped out of my thoughts. "Yeah, I was just listening to what people were saying about the new girl."

"She's in my English class," Jasper added.

"What did you think of her?" Alice prodded.

"I can't really say. Typical first day. She seems fairly quiet," he answered.

"I'm getting that from most people. Maybe a little quirky," I added. "Most definitely klutzy."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. Talking about another woman, well girl, wasn't exactly stimulating conversation for her. She leaned to Alice and began a side conversation.

"I know it's a couple of months away, but I was thinking we should go somewhere for Spring Break," she interjected.

"Oh!" Alice clapped. "Yes, what are you thinking?"

People were still filing into the room. We sat pretending to eat. I tuned out talk of an upcoming vacation, and scanned the room more. That's when I saw her.

I didn't know at that moment that my whole existence was about to be thrown into a tailspin. Not even Alice could have predicted this.

A first. For me anyway. But I didn't know what to call it.

Over the course of a day, this new girl would wage war on four out of five senses. By the time the day was over, I would wish it had been five.

It began with sight. But that was inconsequential. Another human girl in the lunch room. Pretty. Normal. Typical. This was one of those times where the first impression wasn't the most accurate. I was rarely wrong, but perhaps, I was too caught up in the issues related to the second sense to notice the first.

Next was sound. Or lack thereof. I couldn't hear her. Everyone around her was crystal clear. But from her there was nothing. Interesting. Confusing. Amazing. Not normal. Not Typical. A first.

I was blind and deaf in the lunchroom, leaving me completely unprepared for the sensory overload that was to come in my biology class.

Third came smell. Fucking smell. It would be impossible to know whether this attack would have been as effective if she had been assigned to sit anywhere other than the empty seat next to me in that biology room.

I had been desensitized to the scent of human blood over the years. While my senses were sharp enough to know that not all humans smelled alike, eventually it did almost seem that if you smelled one, you'd smelled them all. The distinctions became fewer and father between.

But this girl was not like the rest. A scent so powerful, so consuming, so perfect. There are certain conventions of vampirism that popular culture does seem to understand. We lust for blood. Literally lust. Which meant that in addition to drinking her dry, I wanted to consume her in every way possible.

Extraordinary. Absolutely aberrant. Another first.

Two in one day. These firsts mangled the monotony. I wouldn't be able to hang her on the wall like a diploma or display her in a museum like a car, but I could imagine measuring my life by these new kinds of firsts.

I was stressed and strained as I endured the hell of sitting next to my personal siren. Calling me to me own demise. And unknowingly, her own.

She attempted to speak with me, as any human would. Small talk. Introductions. I grunted and looked away catching her eyes for a brief second. It was long enough to realize my initial impression was also off. Her eyes were as unique as her scent. They were deeper than I'd imagined. Dark but warm, like a moonlit pond on a summer night, inviting you to jump in and splash around in the water.

Nothing about her was ordinary. I didn't know what to think of this human girl. Other than her closed mind, my first impression was so inconsequential, but how could someone so utterly unique not draw me in? She was the antidote to my boredom. The cure for the monotony.

I purchased my ticket for the roller coaster. The first part of the ride was the scariest, not knowing whether I would make it through that excruciating biology class.

I survived. She survived, and I made a valiant effort to prevent further close contact, attempting to re-arrange my class schedule. My efforts were fruitless. No alternatives existed.

Dejected, I blindly attempted to exit the main office only to be confronted by that which I feared most. I very nearly went for a swim in her eyes before averting my gaze and hurrying past her.

She followed me out of the room. I expelled every ounce of self control to avoid running away at speeds not humanly possible. Everything about this girl made me want to blow my cover today. I turned the corner to an empty hallway. She called out to me.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" She yelled. I didn't turn around.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I answered curtly not even glancing over my shoulder.

"Just stop, asshole!" she fumed. I slowed, but still faced the opposite direction, listening as she continued her tirade.

"Give me a break. You were incredibly rude to me today, and now you're trying to get out of biology? And running away from me? What did I ever do to you? Why would you treat a stranger like that?" I stopped now. I was being rude. It was necessary, but it would raise more suspicions than desired if I didn't make an effort.

I spun on a dime to look her directly in the eye, willing her to run away, to see what I represented to her.

I almost smiled at the sight of her.

She stood firmly rooted to her spot, legs hip distanced part, hands balled on her hips. A fighting stance. Such a spitfire.

She waited for an answer. And the fact was, I didn't have one. At least not one that made any sense.

"I just can't be around you."

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Seriously?"

"Completely."

"That's it? And you're not going to tell me why?"

"I can't."

"Well that's bullshit," she said with a smirk.

I laughed. It was. "I promise you. It's in your best interest."

"I hate promises. But whatever. I'm not going to beg." She made a move to walk past me, and I verified I wasn't breathing. I thought I was safe. Assumed she was going to leave me alone, but as she breezed past me she stopped. We stood side by side, facing opposite directions. Electricity pulsing between us. The charge tested every ounce of self control that remained.

In that instant, I realized I wanted everything about this girl.

And my want would mean her death.

Without warning she grabbed my wrist, and instantly recoiled when she noticed how cold my skin was.

She stuttered, fumbling through a thought. And she left without completing it.

I exhaled needlessly in relief. Maybe it would be enough of a warning for her to keep her distance.

Her touch had seared my skin, and I could feel it pulsing long after she left. I looked for a mark, a branding.

When I had gained enough composure, I texted Alice telling her I was planning to find my own way home. Her response was nearly instantaneous, as if she'd been expecting it. She probably had been.

"Don't leave, Edward."

Was I planning to? I guess it had crossed my mind. But I didn't think I was ready. Not yet anyway. I needed to think, to run. To soothe my aching senses. All but taste. I closed my eyes, so I could focus on hint of her scent still lingering around me. Taste. I would start with her skin. Letting my tongue wet her neck, taking in the flavor of her skin before I punctured her allowing her blood to flow into my mouth and down my throat. Taste. Every. Drop. Until there was no more. It would have to be worth it.

It wasn't until I was alone in the woods behind our house, walking by the river, temporarily sated by deer blood that I began to imagine other tastes. Her tongue, for example as it entwined with my own. The salt of her sweat as she lay naked by my side. Even in my imagination, she owned my senses.

My eyes saw her delicate curves, desperate to climb the hills and valleys. My ears heard her heart pumping and her blood rushing as she anticipated my touch. My own hands felt the burn of her skin as I explored her terrain. Living dangerously in my mind, I rested my head on her thigh, drawn to the particular curve and the proximity to dangerous places. Any temporary reprieve I had from the smell of her blood ended when the scent of her arousal hit me. My desire to taste and touch moved lower.

Another fucking first. Fantasizing about a silly high school girl. Alone and aroused in the middle of nowhere.

And thus the game began.

I returned to the house, knowing what was coming. No secrets. No privacy. For the second time that day, I was greeted with, "What is wrong with you?"

"Rosalie, I'm not in the mood."

"I don't give a shit. Alice says you wanted to kill a human today."

"I didn't."

"Fine line."

"I'd say it's a pretty distinct line if you're human." And I didn't usually go there, but her smug tone and self righteous smirk did me in. "Yes, Rosalie, a fine line indeed. Lucky we both know what it feels like to hold death in our hands."

"You fucking bastard, don't you dare compare my past to yours. It was only once, and I had a reason. You know that."

Of course I knew. I was there.

She had cultivated her plan carefully. She worked diligently to control her own bloodlust so she could succeed without tasting a drop. But she knew she had to act quickly, before it was time to move to a new locale.

Obviously, I heard the planning. But I never said a word. I couldn't deny her the opportunity for revenge. Carlisle may have been capable of the kind of forgiveness it would have taken to get Rosalie to walk away from those men, but I wasn't. She stepped lightly around me for months, never certain if I would out her, warning me silently not tell. I kept her guessing, even up to that night.

I followed. Since I knew where she was going, I could keep a good distance. My speed a useful accomplice in the chase. I never planned to stop her, but I thought she might need backup. Maybe she wouldn't be able to carry through, or perhaps she would be overcome with thirst. I hung back in the wings.

Rosalie had rehearsed her lines and costumed herself ideally. She took the stage with confidence. Playing her role to perfection, demanding the attention of her unwilling audience. They reacted as she'd expected, as she'd needed them too. When it was time for the final curtain call, however, the seats were empty. Save for one. Mine.

She crumpled to the floor and stared at her victims for a long time. I couldn't read her emotion exactly, and her mind was blank. I don't know how many minutes had passed when she whispered, "I know you're there. You can come out."

I took a step out of the dark shadow I'd been hiding in.

She looked up at me and smiled weakly through black eyes, "Will you help me?"

We arranged the scene. It was another time we'd worked silently side by side. I prompted her to hunt immediately after, knowing the urge must have been strong.

It wasn't until we reached the forest on the outskirts of town that she finally spoke. "I had to do it." Her tone implied no regret.

"I don't judge you."

"Carlisle will."

"He might," I admitted.

"They stole something from me, and I'll never get it back. I had to take something from them too." Her delivery was stiff and emotionless.

It wasn't exactly an eye for an eye, but I followed the logic.

"I should have been good enough. Why wasn't I good enough? Look at me. I deserved so much better." The façade was cracking.

"Of course you did."

Something about that response made her snap. "Whatever, don't patronize me."

"Why would you say that?" I asked.

"Oh how about 'What were you thinking, Carlisle?' or 'People die all the time,' or my personal favorite, 'What are we going to do with her?'"

She spat my words back at me with the same disgust I'm sure I'd laced them with in the first place. The words dripped with the petulance of a teenaged boy unaware of the long term effect they would have.

"I'm sorry. I was very selfish."

"You still are."

"I know. I'm sorry for that too."

"You can make it up to me."

"How?" My question was met with a long silence. When she spoke, her voice changed.

"Help me forget. Give me back what they took away."

"I don't understand."

"You're not stupid, Edward. Figure it out." She was playing the attack over and over in her mind.

The way I saw it, they'd taken two things from Rosalie that night. Her virginity and her life. How could I give her back either?

"You're not suggesting . . . I mean . . ." At that moment, her thoughts shifted, and as she considered us together as a man and woman. I shook my head. "I can't. I don't feel . . ."

"Don't be ridiculous Edward. I'm not asking you to marry me. But I have an eternity with that being my only memory of what it is like to be touched by a man. An eternity where I'm not allowed to sleep. Hell you hear my thoughts. You know that it consumes me. Give me another memory, Edward. Make this one go away."

I froze. What was the right thing to do? It went against ever moral principle I'd ever set up for myself. And I wasn't convinced that it would actually help her. I lost myself in my thoughts, but she snapped me back out.

"Don't you dare fucking turn me down, Edward." He has to want me. He just has to.

And in that moment, I did. It wasn't just because I was a horny teenage boy who desperately wanted to get laid. It wasn't because Rosalie was Helen incarnate with a body men would give their souls to know intimately.

It was because she let go. She flipped the switch in her head, and I could see every insecurity; every flaw she thought she had. She needed to be loved. To know that what Royce did wasn't her fault, and though it couldn't be undone, it didn't have to define her.

She never looked more beautiful to me than she did right then. Eyes downcast. Hands shaking. Breathing shallow.

I nodded slightly, and we closed the gap between us. We were both tentative, unsure of ourselves. Fumbling and awkward with our touches. I was embarrassed by my inexperience, but Rosalie encouraged me, whispering, "It's supposed to be this way, I think."

And I realized my innocence may have been the very reason Rosalie chose me.

We each took turns driving the car that night. The ride was short, but we both got something out of it. Rosalie preferred the windy road. She needed the twists and turns. To know that she had control over the hairpin curves. To not know what was coming next. I wanted a long flat empty road. To open it up as fast as I could go.

When it was over, I held her. Stroking her hair, afraid to look at her. My own insecurities rising by the second.

Her sobs began quietly, but quickly took over her whole body. I pulled her in close and let her cry waterless tears. One word over and over in her head. "Why?"

And I could guess at what would have followed:

Why did Royce rape her?

Why did Carlisle change her?

Why did she kill Royce?

Why did she have sex with me?

They were all there.

Eventually, the sobbing subsided. Had she been human, she would have fallen asleep. We lay in the dark pretending we could shut down, dream, restore. Before first light, she rose to a sitting position. I looked up at her, and she smiled feebly. She kissed me on the forehead. She sat next to me, on the verge of a decision; it was one I wouldn't try to influence. After a long wait, she stood up.

When she put her clothes on, she was getting out of the car, shutting the door behind. It never started again. I've sometimes wondered if it could have been a simple fix. More gas, a starter. Maybe we could have made it go.

But we never tried. We left it out in some old farmer's field to rust. Weeds grew into the engine. The tires deflated. The bumper fell off.

Every once in a while, on a particularly quiet day, when everyone was lost in a book or a thought, her mind would drift out to that car. She'd climb in and slump against the seat. It wasn't a fantasy or a longing for either of us. It was a memory. Not about sex. But about birth and re-birth. About giving yourself over to another person and trusting they wouldn't hurt you when all you'd ever known was pain.

I was never jealous of Emmett. The guilt I carried over never telling him was a heavy load, however. Rosalie and I simply ignored the topic with each other. Subtle mind jabs and subliminal innuendo served as a cover up for any emotions we felt about what happened and the secrecy that surrounded it. I knew sometimes though, when she thought of the car, she wished she'd never gone on that ride. She never said it, but I imagined she thought she should have just waited. Not much more than a year later, she found Emmett. It could have been him.

Much like Carlisle might have wished he'd waited for Esme and not changed me at all.

I didn't begrudge either of them their happiness, but being the object of someone's regret, particularly when you had full access to their mind, was not something I'd wish on anyone. It had driven me away for a time years ago after Emmett joined the family. But it was also what brought me back, tied me to them. I couldn't bear to cause them any more pain.

And yet here I was. The center of drama and controversy again.

I walked straight to Carlisle's office. I knew Rosalie would be listening. They all would be.

"Do you have a minute, Carlisle?"

"Of course. Come in," he said motioning to the chair in front of his desk.

I closed the door anyway. I still liked to feign normalcy at times.

"I heard you had a tense moment today."

"More than one actually."

"What was it?"

"Her scent is . . . something I can't describe."

He nodded thoughtfully. Then he did something I appreciated beyond measure. He began to ask me yes or no questions in his head. Allowing me to answer with head nods only.

"You've never reacted to a human's blood like that before have you?"

I shook my head.

"It's rare, but there does seem to be a powerful connection for some of us. The Volturi called it, 'la tua cantante.' They believe it impossible to resist.'"

My brow furrowed. I wasn't sure I liked where this was headed.

"Did you know that Emmett encountered one once?"

I shook my head again.

"It didn't end well for him, so you've shown amazing restraint thus far. But your control exceeds most."

I shrugged knowing that it was still nowhere near his.

"Do you plan to go back to school?"

I contemplated, realizing I needed more information.

"I don't know what to do, Carlisle. Will it get easier? It was very strong. And it wasn't just about her blood."

He raised an eyebrow and me. I hoped I wouldn't have to say it out loud. He was thoughtful. "Sexually?"

I nodded, grateful for his discernment.

"That's not unusual. Quite common, of course. You do know that it would be unlikely for it to end well? On any level" There was a warning tone to his thoughts. I felt like a child being scolding merely for asking what a bad word meant.

"I wasn't planning to . . . I mean, I know." I hated having this conversation with him.

"And I don't know if it will get easier. I don't think I've heard of anyone who made it this far."

I nodded once again.

"What do you think I should do?"

He spoke freely, allowing everyone to hear his analysis.

"I typically favor caution, but you've demonstrated control so far. No one is anxious to leave, so perhaps, we should take this day by day."

I stood up to leave. He issued one more warning, "And Edward, it would probably be best to stay away from her."

"I know."

E/N: Obviously some Twilight deviations, but from the story won't follow the events of Twilight much at all as Edward makes different decisions.

Thanks as always to hmonter4 and to JAustenlover for the help.

So, Rosalie. I know. You can throw things at me if you must, but it fit a layer of both of their characters, and complicates the choices they make for the rest of the story. In a good way. Would love to hear you reactions about that.

Bella's got a tough side to her here. What is she thinking about Edward? And he's having fantasies about her already. He wants to stay away. Will he? Next chapter is a blog from Bella sometime in the future. So, you'll wait just a bit longer for more on their story.

I can't help asking . . . do you regret your first time?