Hey, people. Not much to say here! My usual thanks to the usual suspects – my beta, my reviewers, the awesome people reading this story in general.

Disclaimer: Still not mine. But my heart's all yours.

xXxXx

In which I pass the world's hardest test

I guess this is the time where the narrator – me – says that they've never been happier, followed by a music segment showing all said happy times. There would be a bunch of good stuff to put there, but it's not been super easy, this past month.

Sometimes, she's really wary of me, and this whole business. If we get drunk, she ends up crying or beating me, but it's okay because I get to hold her after, and kiss her on her soft skin, anywhere but her lips. I'm determined that our next kiss, our next fuck, will be because of love. I'm already there, but I'm waiting for her. I'm a pretty patient guy – I stayed 'gay' for her for months – so I'm just biding my time, making her happy, like I promised.

It's just another Saturday, and I'm finishing up some homework for one of my online classes. She's on the phone with her dad, and she's giggling and teasing him about his pizza and beer diet. I love listening to her happiness; it keeps me on my toes and gives me signals for what I should be achieving with her.

It's rare that she has a Saturday off, so when she sits down next to me, I'm already chomping at the bit to take her somewhere. She leans into my arm, and even though it makes me mess up the sentence I'm typing, I live for these moments sometimes. The ones where she forgets that I was once 'gay' and am now straight, where she forgets I lied, where she forgets that we drunkenly made out and that she seduced me… and just remembers that I'm her best friend, and that I'm here.

"I really miss my dad," she says, leaning into me some more. I give up on the typing and turn to her, and she buries herself against my chest. She hasn't showered yet, and she smells a bit sweaty, but sometimes I think I prefer that natural smell better than the overdose of products girls put on themselves.

"Yeah?" I ask noncommittally. I rub her back and she sighs sleepily.

"Mmm-hmmm. Edward…"

"Bella…"

She laughs. "Edward…"

I dig a finger in her rib, and she shrieks. "Spit it out."

"That's rude. I always swallow."

Oh, and did I mention she frequently tries to make me lose my goddamned mind?

"Anyway," she says, seeing that I'm floundering too much to respond. "I really… are you almost done with your homework, school boy?"

"Yeah – almost. If someone didn't keep interrupting me."

"Oh, my mistake, I'll just go lean on someone else – "

I attach her to me with both arms, and then lean back. She comes with me, and she's sprawled across my chest, her elbows on either side of my head.

"Try," I dare her.

She just smiles sweetly. "Would you be opposed to a road trip?"

I spent four months being gay for you, sweetheart. You'll find there's little I'm opposed to where you're concerned. "No."

"Good!" She kisses the tip of my nose. "Because we're going to Forks."

"Um…" Oh shit. The land of her chief police dad and her asshole ex-husband. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah… why? Is that bad? I can go by myself – "

"Um, no. You're not going anywhere by yourself." I mean it in a more relative way, but her eyebrow quirks up.

"Oh, no?" She detaches herself from me, and I immediately want her damp-sheets smell and warm body back on top of me. "Well, I'm about to get in the shower… do you need to come with me there, too?"

I groan and rub my face with my hands. She laughs, and then skips off to her shower.

Trying to make me lose my goddamned mind.

xXxXx

Two hours later, we're stuffing the car full of weekend bags. She called her dad, and she said he's thrilled. I heard the conversation, and all he said was, "all right, then" but apparently, that means a lot. Maybe he's a mute.

"So," Bella says as soon as we're on the road. She fiddles with my radio and sets it on a country station. Ugh, that's not staying. "I have a confession."

"If you're about to tell me you shaved your vagina with my good razor again – "

"UGH, no. I can't believe I told you that. No, I can't believe you haven't let me forget that." She crosses her arms.

"You shaved. Your pussy. With my electric razor. How you did that without mowing off your clit – "

"Edward. Stop. Get over it. I was really drunk. And… okay, do you want to know the real reason why I did it?"

"What, the fact that you needed to shave was the fake reason?"

"Revenge."

"Revenge?"

"Remember that night… we had sex?"

"No, I forgot."

"You did? Ugh, Edward."

"Of course I remember! I have a Y chromosome. We don't just forget sex."

"Whatever. Anyway, I was really pissed."

"I know."

"Because… you…"

"Because I…"

"Because you have a big... ugh. You know."

"What was that?" But I'm grinning, ear to fucking ear.

"I'm not repeating it."

I don't need her to. My cock heard her loud and clear. Hear that, buddy? Hear that? You're such a good boy. So good to daddy.

"And now you're less angry, because you know we're going to have sex again?"

She shrugs. "It's not something I'm ruling out." Then she looks at me. "Wipe that cocky grin off your face."

"Oh, Bella… according to you, I just can't help being so cocky."

"I'm really regretting telling you."

"Okay, okay. I'm done. I can't help that you give me such a big – "

"EDWARD!"

"Ego," I finish. I pat her hand, which is resting on the console between the seats. She latches on to my fingers and squeezes. I think it's supposed to hurt, but I just laugh. She scoffs, but doesn't let go of my hand.

xXxXx

I only smoke two cigarettes on the way there, which is pretty minimal for me. I'm not a heavy smoker, but something about road trips make me chain smoke. I think I'm too involved by Bella's commentary on everything.

"Look at that tree, Edward… ugh, you missed it!"

"We're going eighty."

"So… ugh. It was so cool. It looked like Grandmother Willow, from Pocahontas."

We pull off the exit to Forks, and then she's looking all nervous.

"Edward, I never told you my original confession…"

"No, no. I clearly remember you saying I have a big – "

"Not. That." Her teeth are clenched. "Okay… well, I told my dad that you were straight."

I'm waiting for the punch line. "And…"

"Oh, I mean… before I knew you were straight. He was really against me living with and/or being friends with a gay guy."

"That's so backwards," I laugh.

"And it's not because of homophobia," she quickly says. "Charlie is really… cool about everything. It's just… you know. Jacob and… well, Emmett, to an extent, really hurt me. And they're gay. So they're a target for his gun, and any other gay man with the potential to hurt me."

"So he'd rather you live with a straight man?"

"He'd rather me live with a female. He wasn't thrilled about me living with a guy who could ogle my tits, as you so eloquently call them, but… I mean. I don't know, it just is a better alternative to listening to him go and on… even though he probably thinks you're a perverted young man intent on stealing my virtue." She laughs. "He totally thought I was a virgin until I was married. Like Jacob was willing to wait that long… ha."

"Trying to avoid his sexuality early, huh?"

She looks thoughtful. "Hmmm… I've never really thought of that way. I'm not sure. Probably. I guess the signs were always there… but it was Jake."

We're silent for another ten minutes, and then we're rolling through the sleepy town of Forks. It's a town I can imagine being prosperous in the 1800's, but it looks like nothing interesting has happened here since. It's got a couple gas stations, some run down diners, and old shops. It's surrounded by mountains, which is nice, but imagining growing up here is the equivalent of imagining my soul being sucked out by a Hoover.

"This is it?" I wonder as she tells me to turn down a road. She points out the police station, where she sees her dad's cop car. She says to just keep on going – she'll see him later, and she needs to get started on dinner.

"It's not so bad," she says finally, after we turn onto another road. "I mean… I know you grew up in Chicago. But every little town has some sort of charm… even if the charm wears off quickly." She gives me a shy smile, and I rub her neck with my thumb. She gives a sigh of satisfaction.

"It's just so quiet," I say finally. "I'm used to, you know – "

"City sounds, yeah. Here, this is me."

I pull into the yard of a small house. It's two stories, but it's narrow, like a strong gust of wind could blow it over. It needs a new coat of paint and the gutters need to be cleaned out, but it's kind of… nice, in a small town way. I can see Bella as a teenager, swinging on the front porch, entertaining her now ex-husband... ugh.

We climb out of the car, and it's raining, of course. She laughs and grabs at her bag, and then uses it as an umbrella as she stumbles up the stairs. I'm right behind her, holding onto the small of her back, making sure she doesn't slip. She fumbles with her keys and then we're inside.

It smells like a home. I was a spoiled little rich kid – I guess I still am – and all of our houses always smelled like museums. But this smells like life. Like old pizza and laundry and stale beer and Febreze.

"It's not much," she says hesitantly, hovering in the foyer. "But it's my home."

"I really like it," I tell her, and she breaks into this huge, pretty smile. She hugs me on impulse, and even though we're both wet and cold, I squeeze her as tightly as possible.

I guess it just hits me at once, but maybe this isn't a road trip. She's taken me home to meet her father, to see her old life. She wants me to know more of her – she trusts me to know more of her. And that seems pretty damn important.

xXxXx

She finds things in the house for some sort of stew, and an hour later, I'm practically living with my nose in the pot, I'm so hungry. She's keeping it simmering for Charlie, and toasting some bread on the range grill.

"Just a little," I groan.

"Edward," she snaps. "Charlie gets the first bowl."

I think there's a whining noise leaving my mouth, like a dog who's been left by their owner.

Then, I hear a car pull up. Bella gives an excited giggle and goes into the foyer to greet him. It's kind of cute, and I can't help but imagine Bella being at home all day, cooking a meal for me, and then greeting me in the foyer when I get home from work. It's a really great image, and my chest gets kind of tight.

Of course, I can't tell Bella about this image, because unless it somehow involves her working on her PhD of awesome, she won't be interested. She's told me she wants her own life, her own career. And I respect that, so I don't mention the image, especially because it involves her greeting me in a French maid costume. Like, one of those from the sex shop, with nipple holes.

I hear a man's voice in the foyer, answering easily to Bella's mile a minute questions. I hear the sound of a gun unloading, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Then, Charlie – Mr. Swan… Chief Swan! – is around the corner. He stops dead in his tracks. Fucking Bella, not telling him I was coming.

"Hello, Chief Swan," I say quietly, standing as he enters. "I'm Edward."

He grunts and shakes my hand. "Nice to meet you, son. Bella, is dinner ready? I'm starved."

"Yes, Daddy…" She grabs a few bowls from the cabinet by the fridge. She still calls him Daddy. That's kind of adorable. "Here." She's filling a bowl full of stew, and then places two pieces of bread on the side. I can tell this is from years of familiarity.

"Edward, you want some bread?" she asks me as Charlie takes a seat at the head of the table.

"Yes, please," I say as politely as possible.

The stew is delicious, and dinner isn't as awkward as I thought it would be. Charlie asks me a couple questions about my parents, my major, and where I work. He nods thoughtfully each time I answer, and then Bella fills in the rest with details about how awesome I am, and Charlie has a smile for her each time.

Charlie invites me in the living room to watch the ESPN highlights as Bella cleans up after us. I'm not really into sports, but if the Chief is, I can be, too.

"Did Bella tell you about her ex-husband?" Charlie wonders after a few minutes of him grunting and snorting at the TV.

"Yes, sir," I say, trying to make myself sound as pissed off about it as possible.

"I reckon you're the first… uh, man… straight man that she's ever brought home to meet me. Jacob was the only one in her life since they were twelve, maybe younger. I met Emmett, and he's a good guy, but it's important when a girl brings a man home to meet her father. You know that, son?"

"I know that, sir."

"That's all I'm saying. It seems important to Bella, so it's important to me."

"It's… important to me, too, sir."

"Enough of that 'sir' shit, Edward. It's Charlie."

I try to hide my grin, but I can't help but feel I just passed some sort of test. Maybe even the hardest test in the world.

xXxXx

NEXT CHAPTER - we may or may not meet Bella's ex-husband, and Edward may or may not question how Jacob and Emmett could ever have sex. Because Jacob. Is. Huge.

So, I've started a new fic that I would love if you guys checked out. It's called Grand Jeté. Here is the summary:

She moves through her comfortable life without much passion, without much conviction. When she meets the man who can teach her the importance of treating transient life with respect and love, she has to take the grandest leap of faith she's ever faced.

It's AH, and it's rated M for the good stuff.

http : / www . fanfiction . net / s / 6108070 / 1