A/N -Hello everyone! TGIF! Sorry it's a teensy bit late tonight...much love!

Chapter Two: Floating

Alice was a testament to the saying that good things come in small packages.

I stood, a deer in the headlights, at the mouth of the crowded, buzzing cafeteria, clutching a tray that held two chocolate donuts, a cruller, and a peach.

"Bella, over here!" she called, standing up at a long table, her head barely higher than those still seated. Gratefully, I stumbled down the aisle, feeling very much a target of curious and potentially hostile stares. I was so glad that I wouldn't be forced to ask strangers if I could sit with them. How awkward – and it wasn't like it was socially acceptable to deny my request, even if they'd wanted to. I wasn't averse to the idea of sitting alone, except for the conspicuous lack of empty spaces, and the more pointed stares I would probably draw.

That, and the fact that the only seat left at Alice's table happened to be next to Edward.

I sat nervously, glancing over at his French toast, strawberries, and black coffee as if I could divine more of his personality through his breakfast choice. I supposed the black coffee indicated his sophistication, or at least pretensions of sophistication. Either way, I thought it was sexy.

He offered me a polite smile and a "good morning" as I sat down. I returned the greeting with a blush before looking away shyly.

"Are you really gonna eat THREE donuts?" Emmett asked doubtfully. Apparently, I wasn't the only one staring at my plate.

"Yeah," I said softly, turning a brighter shade of pink.

"I don't believe it," he snorted. "You're too little to eat all that!"

Edward leaned over to me on my other side. "He just wants to know whether or not he'll have to get up off his ass and get his own donuts, or if you'll have leftovers he can steal."

"We'll see what's left," Alice giggled, as Emmett pouted.

I shivered at Edward's closeness, drawn in by his good, clean, boy scent. He smelled great in a way that obviously wasn't cologne or Old Spice...just yummy.

Pull it together, Bella, I griped. You don't know him. You can't just fall to pieces over a beautiful boy, just because he happens to be mysterious, charming, and interesting...

Edward was kind. He was friendly, either just naturally warm, or empathetic toward my apparent shyness. He kept trying to engage me in conversation, but his attention made me even more bashful. I had hardly said a hundred words to him by the time breakfast was over.

I ate as something to keep me occupied when not talking, to prevent myself from slipping into awkward silence. There was nothing for Emmett to finish.

"Good morning," Esme greeted us at the door, passing out copies of my favorite book, Pride and Prejudice. I flushed with pleasure - nerd camp was right up my alley.

Emmett and Jasper groaned, but Edward took his copy without complaint, settling into his chair on the other side of the broad, wood table. He leaned back comfortably in his chair, and a little of his bronze hair drooped into his eyes. He reached up with one surprisingly strong-looking hand and absentmindedly pushed it back.

That was enough to set me off.

As we read in silence, I re-imagined the first ball with myself as Elizabeth, and Edward as Mr. Darcy. After a while, though, I decided it didn't fit. It was difficult to imagine Edward in such a constrained era when he was so very real and present. In class, Edward had already proven to be a leader. He was not the most talkative, but when he had a point to raise, the whole class listened. He was someone who could silence a room with a word. This gentle strength I could not reconcile with Darcy's fumbling pride.

"Who would like to read a passage?" Esme's voice broke into my thoughts. "Is there anything that particularly resonates with you?"

Emmett raised his hand.

"A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony, in a moment," he read. Esme raised an eyebrow.

"An interesting choice," she said. "Do you have a comment?"

"Yeah," Emmett grinned. "Jane forgot to add 'from matrimony to the honeymoon'." He waggled his eyebrows at Rosalie, who flicked her hair disdainfully and rolled her eyes toward the ceiling.

Jasper snickered, and Lauren frowned.

"Edward?" Esme moved on without addressing Emmett's input.

My head snapped up, anxious to hear what passage he would choose.

"Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life." He paused. "I disagree."

Esme nodded for him to continue, her smile wide and encouraging.

"I think that in any sort of relationship, a certain knowledge of the other person is essential. Understanding a person's strengths and their flaws breeds empathy, and strengthens a connection. While it is important, too, to keep learning new things about them, a relation forged on mystery and illusion alone cannot survive."

Swoon.

He was just so...aligned with my idea of perfection. He was deep, he was beautiful, he was thoughtful, and most importantly, I didn't know him. Though I loved his assessment of the quote, and joined him in disagreeing with it in the long run, right now, it suited me just fine.

I didn't know his flaws. I only knew his strengths. I knew very little about him, but I knew enough to build him up as a character in my mind, a fantasy. After all, my expectations in reality were less than zero.

Which was why, when I became just a little bored with Eric's extensive and stuttering analysis of a particularly uneventful passage, l allowed myself to sleep into a fantasy. It was easy, when I had Edward to stare at, right across the table, angled perfectly so that I could see all of him, but so that he wouldn't catch me looking unless he turned his head.

In my mind, Esme and the other students walked quietly out of the classroom. I followed them to the door and shyly turned around to face him, pushing it closed with my back until the lock clicked.

He sat in his chair still, gazing at me with a hungry look. I walked slowly to his side, moving his chair away from the table slightly before climbing onto his lap. I took his face in my hands and kissed him, feeling the smoothness of his cheek and the not-quite-sweet richness of his lips. I pushed my fingers through his hair, trailing my hand down the back of his head to cup his neck in my palm.

His hands, so strong and warm, slid from my shoulders to my back, pressing me closer, crushing me to his chest. I pushed him back, placing both hands on his chest before slipping them down to his waistband. I grabbed the edges of his shirt and tugged it over his head, tossing it to the wall, beneath the chalkboard.

I marveled at his pecs, so defined and smooth. I ran my hands over his hard abs before I kissed him, his neck, his chest...he caught my chin with his fingers, a light but firm grasp, and planted a kiss on my lips, his tongue sliding in between them and tantalizing mine.

I stood and pushed him onto the table, pulling my shirt and his jeans off without having to think about it, before climbing onto the table and straddling-

"Bella?" Esme's voice broke in once more, and I jumped, my heart racing and cheeks on fire as the class stared at me with varying levels of interest and expectation. "Do you have a quote to share?"

"Um," I said intelligently, and flipped my book open to a page I might have been holding all along. "I cannot fix on the hour, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."