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Chapter 3 – Readjusted Dreams

Edward moved into the room of my dreams.

I helped him.

It hurt a little to do it, but he was my friend and needed my help. I could suck it up for a friend, couldn't I? Yeah, I could, but that didn't mean it wasn't painful.

The room I'd dreamed of, the one with the white canopy bed, the delicate pink walls, and the flowered bedding? Well, there was no way it was ever going to exist like that now. A boy had moved in and taken over. Oh the humanity!

The bed was a dark cherry four-poster without the lacy, white canopy I'd longed for. The sheets were ivory with antique golden accents on the top sheet and the edges of the pillow cases. The antique gold comforter matched the accents on his sheets. And of course, there wasn't a flower in sight. My heart sank a little when I saw what had been done to my room.

Even more disheartening was the way Edward decorated it, if you could call it that. The walls had been white when he'd gotten here and white they stayed. Now they were wallpapered with sports posters though – mostly baseball ones.

A little miffed by the way he'd unknowingly crushed my dreams; I haughtily told him my feelings about baseball – that I didn't care for it much.

He stared at me with a shocked, open-mouthed expression.

Finally, he demanded, "How can you not like baseball? It's the national pastime!"

I huffed – like my opinion was wrong or something just because it didn't agree with his? "Sorry, Edward. I just don't care for the game. I've tried to watch it. Believe me, I've tried. My dad spends half his life watching baseball on TV, so I'm kind of forced to watch too.

"I can't help it – I just find it incredibly boring. There's so much dead time, when the players aren't doing anything but running to and from the dugout or calling time out so they can discuss things. And the low scores after nine long innings? The interminable extra innings to break a low-scoring tie? I think I'd rather watch golf, and that's the most boring spectator sport ever invented!"

Edward didn't say anything. He just stood there and stared at me like I had two heads or something.

I sighed, unhappy with the way this conversation was going. I had a bad feeling that I had just driven a wedge between Edward and me. But what was I supposed to do? Lie? Tell him I loved baseball when I really didn't just to get along with him? If I did that, we wouldn't have a true friendship then, would we? No, I was right to be honest with him.

Still, if I were being truthful with myself, I had to admit that I'd baited him about baseball just because I was disappointed in what he'd done to his own room. It was his room now. It was never going to be mine. And I'd been kind of a witch to take that out on him. I decided it was time to get over myself and say something to smooth things over with him.

"Look, I'm sorry. I understand that you like baseball. I just don't, that's all. And I can't help that I feel that way. Can't we just agree to disagree on this or something?"

Edward blinked and then shook his head slightly as if I'd startled him out of a deep thought.

I stared at him nervously, trying to gauge his reaction. Had I just blown it? Were we not going to be friends anymore?

And then suddenly a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Finally, he said, "It's fine, Bella. I can respect how you feel about baseball. I guess it could be boring to watch for someone who doesn't love the game."

Wow. He was giving me a pass that easily after I'd embraced my inner witch? My new friend wasn't a marshmallow, was he?

I knew I'd jumped too quickly to the wrong conclusion when he raised one eyebrow at me in challenge, "Can I ask you though…have you ever tried to actually play before?"

His question surprised me.

Edward didn't know it, but he'd just pressed a huge emotional button for me.

After a few moments, I finally stuttered out, "Ummm… No… I haven't played before."

And just like that, I was blinking back tears I didn't want him to see. I lowered my gaze and swallowed hard before continuing, making sure to clear the unwanted lump in my throat.

"To be honest…my dad never showed any interest in teaching me. It was like…I wasn't the son he wanted…so he just kind of gave me over to my mom so she could teach me girly things. Don't get me wrong, Edward, I love my dad and I know he loves me, but… Well, you know."

If Edward had been a girl, I expect he would have hugged me or maybe told me how his dad treated him the same way. But Edward was a boy, so there was none of that. He wasn't even looking at me when I glanced up at him. He was busy searching through one of the still unpacked boxes on the floor at his feet instead.

I had just poured out my heart to him – just told him something I'd never told another living soul. And he was unpacking while I was entrusting him with my innermost thoughts? I was more than a little hurt and angry.

Then he stood up and said, "Here, catch," before hurtling something straight at my head.

Truly, in that moment, I was seriously reconsidering this friendship of ours.

Luckily, my reflexes took over and I caught the lumpy, brown thing before it hit me in the face. Looking down, I realized that I held a baseball mitt in my hands.

Stupidly, I asked, "What's this?"

Edward chuckled, "Geez, Bella. You need more help than I thought. It's a baseball mitt. What does it look like?"

"I know it's a baseball mitt…also known as a glove," I said superiorly.

"Well then, why'd you ask?"

"Forgive me. I wasn't exactly expecting you to hurl that thing straight at my face. I was having flashbacks of Marcia Brady. And thinking that nobody would ask me to the school dance when you broke my nose. I blame that for my lame question."

Edward snorted. He actually snorted at me. "A Brady Bunch reference? How old are you again?"

"The same age you are, and I must not be the only one watching Brady Bunch reruns since you knew exactly what I was talking about."

"Touché," he said, grinning at me. "But it was a football that took out Marcia, not a baseball glove."

"True, but I still bet it doesn't feel too great when you get hit right in the kisser with one," I retorted.

"Come on, Bella. I knew you would catch it. I had faith in you."

I felt an unexpected rush of warmth spread through my chest. He had faith in me? I was surprised by how good that made me feel.

I didn't let on, though. I didn't want to go all mushy girl on him – even though I was acting like a mushy girl with my emotions flying around all over the place. What the heck was wrong with me today?

Mentally shrugging off the thought, I took the glove and, grasping it between my thumb and forefinger, held it out in front of me like it was something foul. "Alright, but what am I supposed to do with this thing?"

"You're supposed to put it on your hand, and when I throw this at you," he said, holding up a baseball, "you're supposed to catch it."

I looked at him in astonishment. "We're going to play catch? That's the plan?"

"No, I'm going to teach you how to play baseball. I thought we'd start with one of the basics – in order to play baseball, you have to be able to properly throw and catch the ball."

I simply stared at him. Edward was going to teach me how to play baseball? He was willing to do something my own father wouldn't? He wasn't just going to dismiss me as a girl who wouldn't understand?

That meant more to me than I could say.

"So," he said as he retrieved a second mitt from the same box, "where should we do this? There's not enough room in here. Maybe I can ask my mom to move her car out of the garage and we can play out there."

"Well, why don't we just play outside?" I asked. "I know I've never done this before, but isn't that where this kind of thing is usually done?"

Edward looked from me to the raindrop spotted window and back again – his brow furrowed like he was questioning my sanity or something. "But it's raining."

"Oh, please! It's barely sprinkling. This is Washington State, Edward. We live in the wettest spot in the continental U.S., so you're going to have to get over yourself. The sooner you realize you're not going to melt if you get a little wet, the better off you'll be. Otherwise, you're going to spend your life indoors and bored out of your mind. Come on," I prodded. "Don't be a wimp."

He flashed that crooked grin at me. "Okay. You're on."

We walked to the doorway together, but then Edward stopped to let me go ahead of him.

"After you," he said, his manner polite and not at all condescending.

This was something I was quickly learning about my new friend, he was a gentleman without being a chauvinist about it. I knew he respected me and saw me as an equal, so I didn't mind his occasional gentlemanly gestures like this one. In fact, I kind of liked them.

I waved him on ahead of me this time though. I wanted to establish firmly in his mind that his new friend may be a girl, but was also a feminist. My mother had told me that her generation hadn't burned their bras for me to think myself in any way subservient to a man. Of course, I later found out that my mother was in elementary school during the time of the Women's Lib movement, and since she'd been flat-chested at the time, she hadn't actually had a bra to burn. Still, I had taken what she had said to heart – that I could do anything and be anything I set my mind to. That's one reason why my dad's lack of interest in me had hurt so much. I knew I was every bit as good as a boy!

And Edward seemed to know it too.

I smiled to myself as I followed him down the stairs. Earlier doubts aside, I had decided once and for all that I liked having him for a best friend. Sure, he wasn't the girl friend that I'd dreamed of before, but I had a feeling that he was going to work out just fine after all.

Totally inside my own head instead of paying attention to where we were going, I ran into the back of Edward when he suddenly stopped outside a door on the second floor.

"Omph! Ow! Couldn't you try signaling next time or something, Edward?" I asked as I rubbed the sore spot in the middle of my chest where I'd knocked the wind out of myself a little.

He looked over his shoulder at me with concern in his expression. "Sorry about that, Bella. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Sure. I've accepted my lack of grace at this stage in my life."

He smiled at me. "I think you're very graceful. You know, when you're not falling over or running into stuff."

"Ha ha, Edward," I said begrudgingly. "So, why are we stopping?"

"Oh, I was just going to ask Jasper if he wanted to join us," he explained as he turned back to the door in front of us and opened it a crack.

Jasper? Crap!

Knowing that the man of my dreams might be seeing me throwing a baseball like a total spaz was not helping me catch the breath that had been knocked out of me.

I mean, I had to admit that I'd love the chance to ogle Jasper – especially athletic Jasper with his muscles all rippling.

On the other hand, though, did I really want him there to witness what I was sure would be a humiliating display on my part. Um, that would be a big NO!

Busy debating with myself over what I wanted Jasper to decide, I was startled when Edward poked his head inside the room and I heard Jasper's harsh cry, "What the fuck, Edward?"

I blinked, a little shocked at Jasper's language. I mean, I'd heard the word before of course, but I'd never before considered such an ugly word coming out of Jasper's beautiful mouth.

The hostility must have taken Edward aback too, because he stumbled over his words a bit in answering his brother. "I – I'm sorry, Jazz. I didn't mean to bother you or anything…"

"Well, you did. Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

"I should have knocked. I know that," Edward conceded. "I just…forgot."

Jasper scoffed, "Whatever, Edward. You know you can't just barge in here whenever you want. It's an invasion of privacy. What if I'd been doing the five-finger shuffle or something?"

The five-finger shuffle? What was that? A card game?

Edward must have known what Jasper was talking about, because he said dryly, "Eww, Jasper. If that had been the case, I probably would have gone blind."

Peeking over Edward's shoulder, I saw Jasper grin slyly, "I might have gone blind too, but for an entirely different reason."

I noticed that the tops of Edward's ears were red, like he was blushing, but I had no clue why.

"Knock it off, Jazz. We just came by to ask you a question."

"Alright, little brother, shoot and then skedaddle," Jasper said as he picked up a can of Mountain Dew from his desk and then took a gulp.

"Well, Bella and I were just wondering if you'd like to join us for a three-way."

Jasper immediately started to sputter and choke. His face turned red and tears streamed from his eyes.

Edward strode into the room and began pounding him between the shoulder blades. "Are you okay?" he asked Jasper.

Jasper continued to cough but managed to get out, "No, I had Mountain Dew come out my nose, and that shit burns."

When Jasper finally was able to breathe again, he asked incredulously, "Now, what did you just say?"

"Oh," Edward said, getting himself back on track now that he was no longer worried we'd have to give his brother the Heimlich, "I just asked if you'd like to join Bella and me for a three-way."

Jasper raised an eyebrow at his brother. "That's what I thought you said. But you can't possibly be talking about what I think you're talking about."

Edward held up the baseball mitt he was still holding. "I'm talking about playing catch. What did you think I was talking about?"

A delicate pink tinged Jasper's cheeks. Was it a leftover from the redness in his face when he was choking? I wasn't sure, but it definitely drew my attention to his heavenly gray eyes. I managed to stifle a dreamy, girly sigh before it slipped out, but only barely.

"What did I think you meant?" Jasper asked while appearing to be searching for an answer. "Umm… Playing catch," he finally finished lamely.

"O-kay," Edward said as if questioning his brother's intelligence. "So, do you wanna?"

Jasper shook his head. "No, I'm not really interested in a three-way with my little brother and his girlfriend. But thanks for thinking of me, bro."

"Alright, fine. Later, Jazz," Edward said as he rejoined me in the hallway.

Jasper shut the door firmly behind Edward.

Immediately we heard him laughing loudly through the door.

I had absolutely no idea what Jasper found so funny and shot a questioning glance at Edward who simply shrugged at me before turning once more toward the staircase.

Hmm… I wasn't really sure I got Jasper. So far he'd been full of surprises. I really wasn't sure I understood his sense of humor. And he was still a bit of an all-around mystery to me.

But I was more than willing to put in the time to figure him out.

~*~B~*~B~*~B~*~

I was sitting in Edward's room, keeping him company while he unpacked boxes full of books.

His mom had been on him to get the boxes out of the garage and unpack them for a couple of weeks now, but he'd been putting it off. Apparently Esme had finally put her foot down and told him he had to stop procrastinating, because he'd called and asked me to come over and distract him from the dreaded task.

It wouldn't have been so bad if Edward had just taken books out of the boxes and thrown them indiscriminately on his bookshelves. I'm sure that's what most guys our age would have done. Edward wasn't most guys though.

He had told me that he wanted to take this opportunity to really organize his books. He wanted to separate fiction from non-fiction; to separate his non-fiction books into categories and arrange them alphabetically by title within their category; and to sort the fiction into genres and organize them by country of origin and time period in which they were written.

It was a complicated system to say the least, and he'd lost me when he tried to explain it. Making things even worse, the boy had more books than most small-town branches of the public library. Okay, maybe that was exaggerating a little, but he had a ton.

I had told him on the phone that I was willing to help him. He had – probably wisely – turned me down though. He had said that sorting through everything would probably drive him a little nuts, and he didn't want to bite my head off when I accidentally stuck an American novel in his English Lit pile or something like that. Heaven knew I didn't want to come between a man and his OCD, so I agreed to just hang out.

Edward had encouraged me to bring my own book or something else to keep me occupied when he got lost in his organization process. He was a thoughtful friend and told me that he didn't want me to be bored while being there to do him a favor.

I decided to take my composition notebook with me. I had originally bought it as one of a set of notebooks for school last year but had never gotten around to using it. Over the summer I'd taken to writing short stories or the occasional poem in it. I also used it for my doodles and at times like a kind of diary. I liked to put my thoughts, feelings, and ideas down on paper. It gave me a creative and emotional outlet that just made me feel better about things.

After an hour in Edward's room, we'd finally stopped talking and joking around, and he'd become engrossed in sorting through his mountain of books. I'd written a little on the short story I was working on but quickly grew restless.

I just wasn't in the mood to concentrate on writing, so I flipped to a blank page and started doodling instead. Before long I had unconsciously begun to draw hearts with BS + JC written inside. When I got bored with that I started writing out variations of what my married name would be – Isabella Marie Cullen, Bella Cullen, Bella Swan-Cullen, Mrs. Jasper Cullen.

I was so absorbed in coming up with different variations of what name I would go by once I married Jasper that I didn't notice Edward had approached me until he pulled the notebook from my grasp.

"Whatcha writing?" he asked.

I made a grab for the notebook, but he quickly moved it out of my reach. "It's nothing, Edward. I write all kinds of things…stories, poetry, my thoughts…no big deal."

"I didn't know you were a writer, Bella. That's really cool. Could I read something you've written?" he asked as he started to open the notebook.

Okay, I'll admit I panicked. But I'd suddenly gotten this horrible premonition of him opening to the last page I'd written on and reading all those combinations of my name with his brother's. If that happened, I'd die of embarrassment on the spot, so I made another grab at the notebook as I answered him. "No! Absolutely not! Give that back to me…NOW!"

His eyes widened in surprise for a moment before his crooked grin appeared. "Hmm…you really want this badly, don't you? What will you give me for it, Bella?"

"You're holding my notebook for ransom?" I lunged at him, but he sidestepped me easily. I felt desperate hysteria rising inside of me, and I screamed at him, "Edward Cullen! You give that back!"

I lunged at him again – this time momentarily getting my hand on his wrist before he twisted out of my grip and ran. "Edward! I'm not kidding! You'd better give that back right now!" I exclaimed as I chased him out into the hallway and down the stairs.

"You're going to have to catch me!" Edward called back to me as we ran.

I couldn't believe this. He was playing games with me! This was deadly serious, and he was playing games!

"Edward, this isn't funny! I want my notebook back now!"

We were on the main level of the house now, in the Cullen's living room. Edward was keeping the sofa between us as he paused for a moment to open the notebook.

"Edward Anthony!" I shrieked in terror, "If you open that notebook, I swear to God, I'll kill you!"

Edward laughed. "Come on, Bella. I'm sure there's nothing in here that I shouldn't see."

I had finally caught up to him, but he was still keeping the notebook out of my reach as he continued to try and open it. "Edward! Don't! Please!"

I didn't understand why he was doing this. I was afraid and angry and frustrated…and ashamed of the tears I couldn't keep from welling in my eyes.

Just then I caught a flicker of movement in my peripheral vision. I looked over and was startled to see Jasper leaning in the doorway. I couldn't have explained why exactly – I mean, it's not like I'd ever even really spoken to him before or anything – but I felt a surge of hope seeing him there. I knew it was corny and went against my feminist upbringing, but I had this thought in the back of my head that the man of my dreams would swoop in and save me. I blame the false advertising of fairy tales. For a moment though, I really thought that was exactly what would happen.

And then it actually seemed to be happening! I saw Jasper's expression as he apparently made up his mind to help me. He walked purposely up to Edward, retrieved my notebook, and even smacked him with it.

At least…it seemed as if he were helping me…but what if I was wrong?

What if Jasper had decided that he was going to see what I was guarding so fiercely? The only thing worse than Edward seeing that I'd fancied myself as Mrs. Jasper Cullen was for Jasper to see it himself!

Feeling defeated and humiliated by what I was sure would now happen – that my secret would be revealed one way or the other – I didn't pay attention as the brothers bickered with one another. I just stood there, hoping the floor would open up and swallow me whole before Jasper was able to see what I'd written, when I suddenly became aware of my notebook being held out to me.

He was giving it back. Jasper wasn't going to taunt me with it like Edward had. He wasn't going to invade my privacy. He wasn't going to mock me for setting my sights on someone as obviously unattainable for me as he was. Despite the fact that he was still such a mystery to me, Jasper really was worthy of my love. I'd been sure of it all along.

I glanced up at him, overwhelmed with gratitude. I tried to keep my love for him out of my eyes. I didn't think he was ready for me to tell him how I felt yet. I was pretty sure that I did a good job of disguising it, but I knew in my heart that at least a little of it had to shine through. There was just too much to contain.

As I looked at him though, Jasper's expression hardened. "You know I really don't have time to babysit you two. Do you think you kids can play together nicely now? If not, maybe you should go home, Bella."

And just like that, I went from a woman in love to an ashamed, stupid little girl.

He was never going to see me as anything other than a baby. I was never going to win his heart. I was just some dumb kid with a crush, and the sooner I accepted that and moved on the happier I would be.

After all, what was one more readjusted dream?

I will not be putting whose POV each chapter is in at the top. It's just a personal preference of mine. But the structure of this story will be Bella/Edward/Jasper alternating chapters. So next up, we'll be hearing from Edward again.

For those of you thinking that Edward's system for sorting his books is a little anal…umm…that's actually how I've arranged my own bookshelves.

Big thanks to Delta, my2galspal, and Vican for all their help.

If any of you have any questions or comments about Destination Wedding, you can find me on the Destination Wedding thread on twilighted. http:/www(dot)twilighted(dot)net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=14195&start=0