A/N - The sky is really pretty right now. Super random, I know, but I just glanced up from my computer and the sky is this dark purple with the sun lighting up the orange leaves on the trees. Spectacular. Anyway...enjoy!

Chapter Seven: Baby

"I look like a baby prostitute."

"No," Alice contradicted, "You look like a baby Lady Gaga. I was going for just Lady Gaga, but as it is you, the baby can't be helped, I suppose." She sighed, before waggling her finger in my face with further instruction. "Don't disown the fierceness – you look hot."

I glanced in the mirror again, trying to recognize myself underneath the layers and layers of make-up I had piled on my face. Alice was like a professional make-up artist. I knew that my knowledge of cosmetics was lacking, but in no way, shape, or form did I expect my make-over to take two hours. It hadn't been the simple eyeshadow/mascara/lipstick – poof, you're done! Variety that I thought I was getting. I dropped that impression as soon as she finished working on my cheekbones. For that fairly insignificant of my face alone, pixie-beautician had used foundation, concealer, bronzer, blush, and "corrector". If I had thought that I wouldn't need much work, I had been sorely mistaken. I looked good; I could admit that much. Really good – I just didn't look like me.

Alice's obsession of the moment was Lady Gaga. As such, she had decided that we would be dressing up for the dance as different Gagas from her music videos. Alice herself was "Poker Face" Gaga – she had a one-shoulder black spandex top with silver spandex pants, and a silver lightning bolt across her cheek. Rosalie, after staring Alice down for a suggestion that she do "Telephone" (wrapping yellow caution tape around a black tube dress) conceded to being "Alejandro" Gaga, and wore bright red lipstick with black lace. I was "Bad Romance" Gaga, which in Alice's vision entailed what she termed a "nude" face, even though it was achieved with five layers of make-up, heavy eyes, big hair, and a black sheath with geometric cut-outs in back. I wasn't disowning the fierceness, but I wasn't quite claiming ownership of it yet, either.

"Now, go over what you learned." We were walking to the dance, and Alice was still trying to squeeze in some last minute prep-work, spritzing me with a mini-perfume from her bag and quizzing me on her instructions.

"There are enough variations on the Little Black Dress to last even you a lifetime," I joked dryly, rolling my eyes.

"Be serious, please," she sniffed.

I gave an exaggerated sigh, and regurgitated her earlier directions in a monotone. "When we get to the dance, I am not to spend time moping over Edward or being awkward and too embarrassed to dance. Instead, I will show him who's who by dancing the night away with my wingwomen as an attractive, independent, and foxy lady."

"Good," Alice said happily. "And if he asks you to dance?"

"He won't," I muttered under my breath. "I say, 'yes, I'd like that' and try not to trip over my own two feet or blush too much."

"Your blushing is charming," Alice noted "but a permanent state of redness is never flattering to anyone – that's just excessive."

Rosalie flipped her perfect hair impatiently. "Can we just dance, already? Bella will forget the game plan as soon as we get in there, anyway, so we might as well have a good time."

Alice led the way into the decorated gymnasium without another word.

I was a little overwhelmed. I had been to few dances back home, and so I was not mentally prepared for the sight of a couple hundred nerds getting their freak on to "Get Low". I started to panic until I saw six tables arranged in the back, by the punch and cookies, where those not inclined to dance could play Pokemon and Risk.

Alice shook her head at me. Don't. Even. Think about it.

As soon as we hit the floor, her hawk eyes stopped watching me, though, as her hips swayed automatically in time to the music. "Ohhh, this is my jam!" she shouted. Rosalie and I exchanged looks. It took Emmett and Jasper about five seconds to locate us; I could have sworn that they had chick-dar or something.

I contemplated sneaking away to the boardgame tables, but as I tried to evade Alice, I suddenly spotted Edward. Edward, looking mighty fine in a dark blue polo. It was a shame that he was also wearing Lauren.

The nice thing about nerd dances, as far as I could tell, was that there was virtually no grinding, the one exception being the pair in front of me. I couldn't look away, though, as much as I felt that I was doing permanent trauma to my corneas by continuing to watch.

Edward looked up when the song ended, and spotted me. I wanted to run and hide, but numbness - or maybe awkwardness - kept me rooted to the spot. He said something to Lauren that made her lip curl first into a sneer, then a pout, and then he strode toward me.

"Hey! You look great," he complimented me.

"Alice knows her stuff," I said with a small smile, and he laughed. Too bad I couldn't keep my brain from spilling out my mouth for long. "So," I nodded toward Lauren, who changed her strategy from pouting to dancing over-the-top to recapture Edward's attention. "What happened to Tanya?"

I regretted asking as soon as I watched his face fall.

"I asked her to the dance," he said lightly "but she turned me down. Apparently she has a thing for Asian dudes." He nodded to the other side of the gym, where Tanya was breaking it down with a rather tall Asian boy.

"I'm sorry," I said, as quietly as the din of the gym would allow.

"Hey, you win some, you lose some," he said, starting to smile again.

"Yeah, you got Lauren, at least," I muttered, not expecting him to hear.

"Lauren?" Edward looked surprised, and we both glanced back at her as she slid down to the floor and whipped her head back up again so that all her corn-silk hair exploded around her in a white-blond halo. "Oh, no, Lauren just asked me to the dance as a friend -" maybe that's what she told you " - and I didn't want to say no - I admire the bravery it takes to ask."

"Oh." Well now, look who feels stupid.

Fortunately, at that moment, "Build Me Up Buttercup" came on.

Edward held out his hand. "May I have this dance?" He leaned slightly toward me with that crooked smile, and my hand in his answered before I had the time to blink.

I smiled breathlessly, and he took both my hands in his, and we just had fun jumping around, because it was that kind of song. I didn't care that it was completely platonic- he picked me to dance with.

Alice migrated over when the song ended, and Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper joined us to form a circle. A more modern song came on, and Alice grabbed my hands, leading me into the center of the circle to dance. I was bashful at first, but with her encouragement, I started pop-lock-and-dropping-it right in front of Edward's eyes.

Edward looked amused, but Emmett was appalled.

"What have you done to sweet Bella?" he demanded of Rosalie. "Baby sister, you stop this right now!"

Having so much attention - in a good way - made me feel reckless and brave, and my very rare seductress side came out. I sashayed the short distance to Emmett, fully aware that Edward's eyes were trained on me, and looked up at him from under sooty lashes.

"Why?" I asked, too innocently. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"No, it's good - that's the proble-" Emmett broke off when Rosalie's hand collided with the back of his head.

The song changed into a slow one then, signaling that the night was drawing to a close.

The four "we're not couples, honestly, Bella" split off immediately, leaving me with Edward. I didn't expect him to dance with me again, so I stared at my feet and waited for him to leave, wondering if I would keep myself from watching him dance with Lauren.

But when I looked up, he was still there.

"Want to dance?" he asked seriously, and I nodded, placing my hands on his shoulders.

We were an arms' length apart, but I didn't mind, especially as the RAs were patrolling the crowd with a stuffed felt potato on a yard stick, inserted between too-close couples with the warning "save room for Mr. Potato."

Edward's hands were warm on my waist. I closed my eyes to avoid the awkward choice of where to look, and reveled instead in the feeling of touching him, the delicious, clean smell of him.

The song ended too soon for my liking, and I was pleased that he didn't drop his hands from my waist immediately.

"Thanks for the dance," he said with a smile.

"It was fun," I agreed, before the RAs started calling us to our different groups, and I was carried away in the crowd. No, Edward - thank you.