A/N: I'm trying to get away from long author's notes, especially before the chapter. So here we go: Edward's freshman year...

Oh! Almost forgot—still need the disclaimer: Stephenie owns all. No infringement is intended.

Chapter 3

Evolution

Edward

I walked down the hallway, looking for the office number on the sheet I'd been given. Why do I have to talk to an advisor now? We don't need a major until the end of next year—everyone knows the first two years are just general courses.

This was such a waste of time. I knew what I was doing. It was either medicine or law, so I'd major in biology, do plenty of coursework in political science—no, they called it government at William & Mary—and enough music for a minor, just to round it all out. I didn't need a professor who knew nothing about me telling me what classes to choose.

Since I'd put biology as a tentative major, my assigned advisor was in the biology department. Coming to the end of the hallway, I found the office I needed and knocked. While I waited for a response, I checked my sheet again: Dr. Banner.

"Come on in," a moderately deep voice said, and I entered the office to see a heavyset, slightly balding man in his fifties. Light blue eyes behind wire-rim glasses evaluated me.

Hmm, he doesn't seem any more interested in this meeting than I am. Just because it's pointless doesn't mean I want to piss anyone off—try manners.

I walked to the desk and extended my hand. "Edward Cullen, sir. Thanks for taking the time to meet with me."

He seemed taken aback. I guessed that not many students greeted him that way. Apparently appreciating the respect, though, he stood and shook my hand before gesturing to the seat opposite his.

"Nice to meet you, Edward. Dr. John Banner."

As I sat, he pulled a file closer, opened it, and glanced at the first page. "This is quite an ambitious course load you've picked. Don't you think it might be wise to take it easy the first semester, give yourself time to find your feet and settle in a bit?"

Internally, I sighed and rolled my eyes, but outwardly I kept what I hoped was a pleasant expression. "I understand it's a little heavier than a typical freshman load, but it's within the normal credit hour limit. I haven't ruled out a double major, so I want to get the basic coursework covered as soon as possible so I can still graduate in four years."

He sat back in his chair. "Well, you're here because you chose biology as a tentative major. What else are you thinking about?"

"I'm interested in law and medicine. At this point, I haven't decided which I want to do. I also love music, and I want to indulge that as long as I can. Law doesn't require a specific major, so either biology or music would still qualify me for law school, but I don't want to neglect government and history—or English, for that matter. Lawyers do a lot of writing."

Banner seemed unwillingly impressed. "You have given this quite a lot of thought, then, I see." I just nodded.

Still scanning my proposed course schedule, he pursed his lips as his eyes stopped at a particular point. "I see that you plan to sign up for the 200 level biology class. You do realize that's a sophomore level class?"

Don't patronize me. I aced AP biology and got my freshman biology credit before I even set foot on this campus. I know what I'm ready for.

Despite my inner thoughts, I gave what I hoped was a confident but respectful smile. "Yes, sir, I'm aware of that. I discussed this with my AP biology teacher, as well as one of my dad's colleagues who teaches as an adjunct at Northwestern, and they seemed to think that I can handle it. I thought I'd at least give it a chance. My understanding is that I have two weeks to switch classes if it turns out to be too much?"

He cleared his throat. He appeared slightly offended that I'd spoken with someone from another school, but any offense quickly gave way to reluctant admiration of the very well-known, well-respected school in question. "Yes, that's true. That is what the add-drop period is for."

He flipped to another sheet in the file and reviewed it. "You maintained a heavy load in high school, too, and your grades stayed at the top of your class." After focusing on his the file for a moment, he seemed to come to a decision. Glancing up at me with almost a twinkle in his eye, he said, "Really, the only question is whether you want to take it easy the first semester so you have time for the more social aspects of college."

I laughed, thinking it was funny that he was encouraging me to party. "That's the last thing I want, thanks anyway. I mean, I'm not a hermit, but I've got a cousin who'll make sure I get out of my study mode once in a while."

"Oh? Does he go to William & Mary as well?"

"Yes. I don't expect you'll see him in biology, though. He got a little squeamish during dissections in high school." I tried not to make it obvious that I was avoiding giving him Emmett's name. One of my main goals at college was NOT to be identified with my cousin. I wanted to make my own name here.

Luckily, he wasn't interested enough to push. He adopted an almost avuncular manner as he said, "Just remember, you have the add-drop period, so take a good look at your time during the second week. I can tell you, if you feel any pressure at all by then, it's just going to get worse when finals come around. A heavy course load only looks good to graduate schools if you do it successfully. Don't keep it heavy and then find your overall GPA suffers."

Why do I get the feeling he hopes I'll drop a couple of classes?

"Thank you, sir, I'll keep that in mind. And I do understand—the last thing I want is to start college off on the wrong foot."

Banner stood and extended his hand again. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Edward. Best of luck to you here at William & Mary. I'll probably see you in a class or two if you end up sticking with biology. If you ever want some advice or just to chat, feel free to stop by."

I echoed his motions and shook his hand firmly. "Thank you, I will."

I left the building feeling that I'd used the unwanted meeting as an opportunity to lay some groundwork for my future here. Banner was clearly threatened by anyone he thought might be smarter than him, but by the end of the meeting, he seemed reassured that I had acknowledged his position of authority. I was confident that I'd come across as intelligent, well-prepared, and not afraid of hard work. That he might also have thought me a bit arrogant, too, didn't bother me. It wasn't arrogance if it was based in fact.

A few days later, I arrived for the first 200-level biology class. The students were mostly sophomores, just me and two other freshman. The older students congregated in groups, talking with each other; they seemed to know each other, I guess from previous classes together. They looked skeptically at each of us, the newbies, as we entered. Some inborn self-preservation instinct had us forming our own group at the the far right of the lecture hall. We sat in the third row, a seat between us, and took out what we needed for class. After a minute, the guy on my right half-turned to me and said, "Hey."

I half-turned in his direction, echoing his greeting.

"You a freshman, too?"

I snickered. "Yeah, I think that's kind of obvious." I tilted my head toward the other students, who were looking at our little haven every few minutes. He chuckled, as did the girl on my left. I turned in her direction and waved a bit. They almost looked like they could be twins – tanned, healthily attractive faces, straight blond hair, blue-gray eyes...the only differences were their height and the length of their hair. Addressing both of them, I said, "I'm Edward."

"Peter," said the guy, and the girl introduced herself as Charlotte. Despite their California-style looks, they were both from Virginia. Peter was from the northern part of the state, an area which I would later discover contributed significantly to W&M's student population, and Charlotte was from a small town in the southwestern part of the state.

"A lot of my friends went to Tech; it's so close and they already wanted to go work for the mining industry," she explained. "I wasn't interested in that, and I wanted to be closer to the ocean. I plan to go into the Marine Science program." She sounded determined.

Peter wasn't really sure what he wanted to do, but he'd aced biology in high school and loved science, so he figured it would be stupid to sign up for the freshman level class and be bored out of his mind.

Any further conversation was cut off by the professor's entrance. One thing that made W&M so attractive was that almost all of the classes, even introductory lecture classes, were taught by professors, not teaching assistants. The atmosphere created by this commitment to teaching, not just research, was one of serious investment in each student's academic development – not just the few in each department that managed to get noticed by a professor. Even as a freshman, I had only one class that was to be primarily led by a TA—and that was with the professor's participation at one class per week.

This professor could have been a fly on the wall during my meeting with Banner, he so closely repeated what Banner had said about taking this class on if you weren't ready for it. This statement was accompanied by a pointed glance at our row. His tone got my back up, and when his eyes met mine, I gazed back directly, careful to keep my expression non-defiant but nonetheless determined. After similar evaluation of Peter and Charlotte, he seemed skeptical but more open-minded. He moved on to the first day's classwork without further comment.

After class, the three of us walked out together. "Do you have a class right away?" Peter asked.

None of us did, so we all agreed to go get some coffee.

"Would you guys be interested in a study group?" Charlotte asked after we were seated. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I got straight A's in AP biology in high school, but I'm willing to try just about anything to make sure I keep it that way. I'm on an academic scholarship, and if I lose it, back I go to Christiansburg. I ain't doing it." As she continued speaking, a hint of the hills became apparent in her voice. Although I wondered a bit at her vehemence, I couldn't argue with her commitment, and a study group seemed like a good idea to me. "Sure, sounds good."

Peter looked at her a little longer, as if he was dying to ask for more details, but after a moment, he agreed to the idea as well. We compared course schedules and set up a time for our first get together, and the conversation turned general.

After forty minutes, I slung my backpack over my shoulder. "I've got to get to my music class."

"Music? Wow, are you gonna try every department?" Peter teased.

"Yep. I'm gonna work my way through the whole school." I grinned. "See you later." I left them laughing together and headed for my next class.

At the end of the first two weeks, I took stock: my classes were great; Peter, Charlotte, and I had become friends; and I was confident I could handle the course load I'd signed up for. Not that it wasn't plenty of work, but I figured it was good preparation for graduate school—whether that turned out to be law or medicine.

Best of all, not a single person had asked me if I was related to anyone else, no one looked at me curiously, wondering why I wasn't more like Emmett, or Alice, or Carlisle. Everyone from Banner to Peter and Charlotte to the other students in my music class accepted me at face value—based on what I knew about mitosis or Debussy, not what Emmett had forgotten about mitosis or how Alice had dissed classical music in favor of the current dance tracks. Between rush and football practice, I hardly saw Emmett those first two weeks, and while it was odd not to have him around more, it was also...freeing. I loved college.

Before I knew it, Emmett and I were boarding a plane for Chicago, looking forward to the awesome Thanksgiving dinner Esme always prepared. Emmett was the most enthusiastic, but I sure wasn't going to complain about some real food after three months of deli sandwiches, bad school caf food, and fast-food burgers. Of course, neither of us considered using the fully-equipped kitchen at the house for anything other than storing beer and sodas in the fridge and assorted chips in the pantry. Well, I guess Emmett had some healthy stuff, like veggies and protein shakes—despite his couldn't-care-less attitude, he didn't neglect his body.

The security lines went on forever, but eventually we made it to the plane, and the flight was uneventful. Emmett showed off by effortlessly swinging our bags off the carousel, and we walked out the doors to find Esme waiting for us. I let Emmett go through the door first to be enveloped by her. Predictably, she teared up as she hugged Emmett, then me.

She pulled back from the hug and framed my face in her hands. "Look at you! You must have grown four inches! And this face—oh, dear, those adorable freckles are fading." She sighed. "I suppose you had to grow up sometime."

She led us to the car and filled us in on what had happened at home since we'd seen them over fall break, when they'd visited us in Williamsburg. I tuned out most of the news, staring out of car window as the familiar town passed by. I listened haphazardly as Esme filled us in on her interior designs and volunteer work, the trials and triumphs of Alice's senior year, and Carlisle's hospital stories.

The next day was Thanksgiving, and it was occupied with the typical American traditions: football, a sincere and moving grace by Carlisle as we held hands at the table, and turkey and all the trimmings. Esme added a new one: commenting on my—to her anyway—wonderful new appearance. Quickly abandoning her initial mourning at the loss of my freckles, she moved on to complimenting everything from my height—"as tall as Carlisle!"—to my hair—a "bronzed" reddish-brown—to my "chiseled" features—apparently, in addition to the freckles, I'd lost the last of my baby fat, and my face had slimmed down. I just laughed at her; I certainly hadn't noticed the girls suddenly falling at my feet.

Emmett and I cleaned up, since Esme, Alice and Carlisle had done all the cooking. Emmett spent the entire time giving me mock compliments in a high-pitched, bad imitation of Esme. My attempt to stop it by punching his shoulder only hurt my hand with no effect on him except to make him laugh harder. The girls went to bed early, having spent their non-cooking time planning their Black Friday attack on Chicago merchants—to start at 4 a.m. I stared at Alice when she mentioned that tidbit, then shook my head. Obviously nuts. Emmett and I sat with Carlisle for a while, watching an old black-and-white movie from the forties, and then we called it an early night, too.

Once the holiday was over, being home was both comforting and unsettling. Friday, I wandered my room for a while, restless, before going downstairs to see how my baby grand had fared while I was away. Running a few scales and arpeggios, I made a mental note to thank Esme for keeping it tuned. I couldn't decide what I wanted to play, so I started with a few warm-up pieces. Usually, that would naturally lead to whatever I was really in the mood for. A few minutes later, I was surprised to find myself improvising some pre-World War II blues. The deceptively upbeat tempo of the songs contrasted with the odd minor notes that tinged the songs with melancholy. The fact that I was playing them now told me something was bothering me, but for the life of me I couldn't figure it out.

After a while, I left the piano and found Emmett in the basement game room, destroying something with a spectacular explosion. Glancing up at me and then quickly back to the game, he said, "Hey. You want in?"

"Sure." I grabbed a controller and joined him.

We played for several minutes, the noises of explosions, gunfire, and our own shouts or groans filling the air. As soon as we got to a quieter level, though, he asked, "So, what's wrong?"

I looked at him blankly. "What?"

He snorted. "Dude, you only ever play video games with me if something's bothering you and you want a lead-in to talk about it."

Hmm...why do I forget that behind that jock exterior is a perceptive intellect and the biggest heart in the world?

"Huh. I hadn't even realized that. And I don't know what's bothering me. I just couldn't settle and I was playing the blues, but I don't know why."

"Did Mom bother you? All that gushing about how you're drop-dead gorgeous now?"

My turn to snort, I thought, and I did. "She's crazy. Yeah, I shot up a few inches, but the rest...meh."

He looked at me from the sides of his eyes before focusing back on the game. "Nah. You're turning into a hottie...if I swung that way and we weren't related." He snickered.

My jaw dropped. Esme's compliments were easily written off as the product of her fondness for me, but Emmett never said anything he didn't mean. He might not have much of a filter, but whatever came out of his mouth was honest. "You have to be kidding me. You know better than that. I'm a skinny, Ron Weasley lookalike with geekish tendencies." I frowned and concentrated on the game.

"The geek part, sure." He shoved me with his shoulder and laughed. "And you're a little skinny. But Mom's right—the freckles are almost gone, and your hair's not that Shaun White color anymore. You need to look in the mirror once in a while."

I frowned harder and annihilated the next enemy agent that appeared on the screen. "The girls at school sure don't seem to notice any difference."

Emmett laughed even harder. "Oh, my God, dude, are you serious? Were you mentally absent at that party we had after mid-terms? You had so many girls following you around I was waiting for you to assign numbers for a lottery!"

I paused the game and dropped the controller to look at him squarely. "What the hell are you talking about? No one was following me around."

With a snort, Emmett started a list. "Oh, really. Well, let's see—there was Jessica, Katie, Lauren, that blonde threesome from Delta Ep...need I go on?"

Flabbergasted, I sputtered, "What? They didn't...weren't...couldn't have...seriously? They were really following me and I didn't even notice? I mean, I remember talking to some of them, and yeah, I remember those Delta Ep blondes—they were a little scary. I felt like I needed to give them a sexual resume just to try a pickup line. But like, Jessica? Or Lauren? They seemed interested?"

Shaking his head, Emmett laughed, almost sadly, it seemed, then looked at me. "Edward. Remember when we left for college, and you were excited about not being tagged with the same labels you had in high school?" I nodded. "Well, you only really lose those labels if you believe you've lost them. If you keep thinking of yourself as the geeky carrot top no one wants to date, that's who you'll act like, no matter how good you really look or how great a person you really are."

"Huh." I rolled my eyes at myself. Brilliant, Edward. Such a witty retort. "I guess I never thought of it that way."

Emmett picked up his remote and unpaused the game. "Well, do think of it that way. It might help."

I picked up my own controller. "How'd you get so smart, anyway?"

He snickered. "It's a gift, Eddie, a gift I just have to share."

I was thinking hard about what he'd said, not the game. Needless to say, Emmett kicked my ass. After crowing about his victory, he nudged me with his shoulder—hard. Picking myself up off the floor, I glared at him. "What the fuck, Em? What was that for? Yes, you won—you're the greatest."

An evil grin appeared on his face. "I know. If you want some help so a little bump doesn't land you on your ass, I'll design a workout for you."

I scowled but he had a point, and I had to admit it was actually nice of him to offer. "Yeah, I guess. You wanna go to the gym tomorrow?"

"Sounds good."

As we turned off the TV and the Xbox, I realized we'd only talked about me. Feeling selfish, I asked, "How about you? Funny, we live together, but we never seem to be in the house together long enough for me to ask that there."

He chuckled, but then sighed. I looked at him inquiringly. Sighing was not a normal Emmett sound. "You okay, dude?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just...well, you're not the only one with girl trouble, you know. Sometimes even we fuckhawt jocks run into a little resistance." If I hadn't known him so well, I might have fallen for his cocky grin.

"Em? Who is she?"

"Oh, this girl in our little sister sorority. Most beautiful girl I've ever seen—just perfect." He sighed again. "And she won't give me the time of day. I've been asking her out all semester, and the most I've gotten is a polite no instead of the drop-dead-get-out-of-my-face she gave me the first time I asked."

This was so not my area of expertise, but I loved the big lug and tried to be encouraging. "Well, that's progress...kind of, isn't it?"

He snorted half-heartedly. "Some progress." After a short pause, he added, "I just can't get her out of my mind. I've dated some other girls, but...I'm just not into it. I think about her."

At a loss, I tried to think of something that might help, but I had zip. "Do you think it's because she's saying no—she's a challenge? You know how competitive you are."

To my surprise, he gave that some thought. "No...I mean, she is a challenge—I think she'd be a challenge even after she said yes to the date. She's feisty." He smiled in an odd way for him—almost tender. "But I don't think that's it."

I tried to be optimistic as we started up the stairs. "Well, it sound like there is some progress. And you know, you do grow on a person." I shoved him in the back as he went up the stairs ahead of me. "Why not give it until at least the end of the semester—try a couple more times?"

"Yeah...I guess."

I smirked at him as we stepped into the hallway. "Just don't get stalkerish and have her hit you with a restraining order."

He smirked right back at me. "I'll keep that in mind."

A/N: And so we see the beginning of Edward's evolution from geek to Greek god. ;) What do you think?

Thanks bunches to EmilyBowden for the beta job - her suggestions made this so much better! Also, smooches to CapriciousC at Project Team Beta!

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