Thanks so much for coming back after my epic update fail. And thanks especially to Cared, who recently reviewed almost all of the posted chapters and thereby kicked my butt in gear to get this chapter done. I'll tell you upfront, though—not a very happy chapter for the boy. But don't worry; he's also makes a new friend.

Since it's been awhile, a quick reminder: While home at Thanksgiving, Edward realizes he is changing, and it's up to him whether to start acting differently or stick with old patterns. He starts the new semester ready for action. :)

As always, it's all Stephenie's.

Chapter 5

Pursuit

"Hi, Edward!"

I looked up to see who the annoyingly perky, yet familiar, voice belonged to. A girl with golden-brown hair and a flirtatious manner smiled at me. Her tits were big for her five-foot-four frame, showcased by a tight, pink, turtleneck sweater. With effort, I moved my eyes up to her face.

"Hi, Jessica. Are you in this class?"

I'd met Jessica at a party Emmett and I had thrown last semester, and after the conversation he and I had over Thanksgiving, I'd thought about seeking her out, but my perpetual shyness held me back. Besides, we had come back from break right into finals, and I'd been studying as much as I could stand to make sure I kept my grades up.

"Yeah, I need an English credit to graduate. At least with this class, there are movies for most of the syllabus, so I figured this was a good one to take."

I was pretty sure my mouth must have been hanging open. She picked a class because she thought she could watch movies instead of reading the books?

"Really? Good to know, I guess." I couldn't think of anything else to say to that.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked, gesturing to the seat next to me.

What could I say? "No, not at all. It's not taken."

"Cool! I've been hoping to get to know you better."

Luckily for me, the professor called the class to order at that point. I had no clue what to say to Jessica. She was definitely hot, but I was still shocked as to why she was in this class; she didn't seem like someone I'd have much in common with.

Over the next few classes though, she made her interest in me clear. I couldn't help but be flattered since I knew several guys who would've loved to be in my position, but I still didn't feel like we clicked. I wasn't sure I wanted to be alone with her for a whole evening, so I didn't ask her on a date. Instead, I invited her to the party that Emmett and I were throwing at our house two weeks after classes started. I figured we'd have plenty of time to spend together, but if things got awkward, it would be easy to escape.

She arrived late, and I'd already had enough beer to get me one step up from buzzed. In my alcoholic haze, she seemed even sexier than usual in a halter top that did amazing things for her already impressive cleavage. When she offered to refill my cup and walked away, I saw that her jeans were just as hot, clinging to her shapely ass.

She focused on me the whole night: laughing at my witty jokes, touching my arms and back at every opportunity, complimenting me on my comments during a class discussion earlier that day. I was beginning to really believe what Emmett had told me over Thanksgiving about being attractive to girls. Before she left, I got her number and asked for a date the following weekend, and I was excited when she said yes. No way a girl who looked like her would have even talked to me in high school, and now I had a date with her!

Once actually on the date, however, it didn't take long for me to realize that I should have stuck with my first instinct—we had nothing in common. She was a math major and brilliant in that subject, but that was the extent of her academic interest. I already knew she didn't care much for literature, but she also showed no interest in art, history, or music, except for the latest dance tracks. Dinner was peppered liberally with awkward silences, and I was incredibly relieved when it was time to take her home.

Manners ingrained in me by Esme made me walk her to the door, but I didn't even plan to try for a kiss. So I was astonished when she invited me in. For a second, I just looked at her before asking, "Why?"

She rolled her eyes and looked at me like I was crazy.

"Why do you think? My roommate's gone for the weekend, so we have the whole place to ourselves." She smiled in what I could only assume was supposed to be a seductive manner. "Come on in, lover—let's get naked."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I was pretty sure she'd found me as boring as I'd found her.

"Why would you even want to? I got the impression you didn't like me much."

"Well, duh, 'cause you're super-hot, why else? I mean, geez, Edward, you're practically a Greek god! I've been wanting to get in your pants since last semester."

At first, I was so taken aback I could only stare at her. Soon, though, a feeling of distaste...almost disgust?...stirred within me. "Thanks, but no thanks." I waved one hand and turned to walk back to my car.

"What? You have to be kidding! What are you, in the closet or something?" Her voice had become a bit shrill by the end of her question and stayed that way as she continued, "That's it, isn't it? It's always the best-looking ones. I should have known."

I almost turned around to correct her, but then I realized I honestly didn't care what she thought. I just wanted to get away. I kept walking at a steady pace until I got to my car.

I drove home in disbelief. I was shocked at how she had acted—were looks really that important? I couldn't comprehend how anyone could be so shallow. At the same time, I bemoaned my own failure to take her up on her offer; after all, wasn't that exactly what I'd been hoping for when I asked her out in the first place? I couldn't figure out why her attitude mattered to me so much, but it did—not even my disappointment in maintaining my virtue was enough to make me want to turn around and head back to her place.

After I walked through the door, I grabbed a beer from the fridge and went toward the couch to channel surf, hoping for something at least entertaining enough to distract me. To my surprise, Emmett was already there and had beaten me to the remote.

"Hey, dude. Why're you home so early? Date didn't go well?"

I flopped on the couch next to him, heaving a sigh. "'Not well' is an understatement. 'Disaster' might be better." I told him the whole story, right down to the little scene at her doorway. By then, Emmett was howling with laughter.

"Oh, this is too good. She called you a Greek god and told you to come in and get naked?" He laughed again. "So why are you here with me? Don't tell me you didn't want to tap that—just her tits could probably get you off."

"Well, I sort of wanted to; I mean, that's why I asked her out, but well, I dunno, Em. The more I got to know her, the less hot she seemed. I was so bored the whole night, and her big tits just weren't enough. And then, well . . . it was weird, knowing that she only wanted me 'cause she thought I looked good. She made it pretty clear that on every other level she found me as boring as I found her, but she still wanted to sleep with me just because she thought I was, uh . . ."

"A Greek god?" Emmett snickered, and I knew I'd be hearing that term for a while. He stopped laughing after a minute, and a sympathetic expression crossed his face. "Sorry, dude, but it is pretty funny. And hey, I know it's hard to be judged on your looks. I get it all the time—chicks don't want to be with me, they want to be with the star football player. You can either use it to your advantage or get good at saying 'no.' You know which I picked—I suck at saying 'no.'"

I snorted. That was such an understatement. "I'm different—at least, I think I am. I mean, when I asked her out, I didn't expect it to be true love or anything, but I was so turned off by the time I took her home, I didn't even want to kiss her. And then for her to be so obvious. . . Am I really weird? Or a wuss for not taking her up on it? It's just, well, it wasn't what I wanted for my first time." I frowned. "At least, not unless I was drunk and could blame it on that later."

Emmett laughed. "Well, you are weird—but not for that."

"I guess."

It still felt strange, though, like I should trade in my man card or something for turning down a chick with big tits who wanted to get in my pants. At the same time, I'd been so disgusted by the end of the night, I might not even have been able to get it up. That would have been a hell of a lot more embarrassing.

Suddenly, it hit me that it was ten-thirty on a Saturday night, and Emmett was home. That never happened unless he had a huge final first thing on Monday.

"Hey, what are you doing here anyway? I can't remember the last time you were home this early on a Saturday night."

He smiled a bit. "Well, remember that girl I've been after since last semester?"

"The perfect blonde who keeps turning you down? Yeah, I remember—still a 'no' from her?" I was a little astounded that she'd held out this long. It's not like he'd never been turned down, but not when he pursued a girl with this much determination.

"She didn't say yes, but she didn't say no, either."

"Really? What happened?"

"I caught her on my way into a meeting to plan the spring formal. Turns out she's on the committee, too. We'll be working together. I said something like, 'we should go together so we can keep an eye on things.' And she just looked at me for like forever, and I was waiting for the usual shutdown. Then she says, 'That was incredibly lame. Don't expect me to come with you if you can't ask me better than that.'" A satisfied smile lit his face.

"Hey, that's great—really encouraging, right?"

"You bet—that's the nicest thing she's ever said to me." He sighed happily. "I'll give it a few days and then ask her properly." He took a sip from his beer. "Hey, don't feel too bad. Everybody has a bad date once in a while—that's all this was. Find a new seat in that class for the rest of the semester, and keep your eyes open. This place has plenty of girls. They're not all vapid skanks like that one."

"Ooh, breaking out the SAT words—you're really serious."

"Fuck you."

~IN~

Sure enough, when Emmett asked Rosalie to the formal a few days later, she said yes. He was riding high in the weeks leading up to the dance. Even losing to me at Call of Duty—for the first time ever—didn't make a dent in his good mood.

As for me, well, I figured Emmett was right: I wasn't going to let one bad date stop me. One thing I could honestly thank Jessica for was making me realize that I had changed from that pathetic high school boy. Now that I was actually watching for it, I found a lot of girls, even a few guys, checking me out.

So when I asked Lauren, a girl in one of my music classes, out to dinner, I was hardly even nervous or surprised when she accepted. She was beautiful, with silvery blonde hair that hung straight down her back and a pretty face. Her boobs weren't as big as Jessica's, but not bad, and her conversation was light-years better. We talked about music and classes over dinner, and when I took her back to her dorm, I had no hesitation in closing in for a goodnight kiss.

Her lips were soft as she kissed me back, her arms sliding up around my neck and her fingers burying themselves in my hair. I was startled by how good it felt. My body seemed to know what to do without me telling it, and before I consciously decided to open my mouth, I was having my first French kiss. My body was thrown into immediate overdrive, and my hands shifted from her back to her hips, pulling her against me. I groaned at the pleasure.

She loosened her hands from my hair and moved them to my shoulders, shoving lightly even as she kissed me again. I kissed her back for a moment, but I didn't want to be pushy, so I pulled back. Her face was flushed, and she smiled at me.

"I had fun. Thanks for dinner."

I smiled back. "I had fun, too. Another time, maybe? We could see a movie or find some live music."

"I'd like that. G'night."

"G'night, Lauren."

We went out two more times over the next couple of weeks. On the second date, she pulled me into her dorm room for our goodnight kiss, and I made my first hands-on acquaintance with a woman's tits. Way cool, even if it was over her bra. On the third date, her bra came off, and I got to kiss them, too. Way, way cool. So cool I didn't even care that I sounded like Emmett.

I couldn't wait until the fourth date—how much further would we go?—but then my bubble had burst.

The music class I shared with Lauren had ended, and I'd kissed her, taking it just past the point where I would once have said was the limit in public. I had no more classes and had started home when I realized I'd left my book in class. As I arrived back at the classroom, I heard voices and recognized Lauren's right off. It took me a bit longer to place the second voice—I think maybe I'd suppressed the memory—but after a second I placed it as Jessica's. I hadn't realized they knew each other, and I vaguely wondered what Jessica was doing in the music building. Then I heard her say my name.

"That was some PDA with Edward." The acid in her tone was unmistakable.

Lauren's voice, on the other hand, could not have been more smug. "You're just jealous because he wouldn't even kiss you."

"Whatever. At least I was honest with him. I didn't make him think I was attracted to him when I was really only going out with him for revenge."

"Who says I'm not attracted to him? He's the hottest guy in our class."

"But that's not why you're going out with him. You're just trying to get back at me because Mike dumped you for me."

I could hear the malice in Lauren's reply. "Well, it's not much—it's not like you were seriously interested in Edward—but at least I got a lot further than you did. And you missed some good kisses, just so you know."

I edged around the door. I wanted to see their expressions. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My stomach was churning. A whole maelstrom of emotions was fighting within me, but the only one I could identify was anger. I hated the idea of being used.

Jessica was staring at Lauren, who wore a vicious, victorious expression. Jessica shook her head, seeming to be at a loss. "I don't get you, Lauren. You weren't seriously interested in Mike, either. Do you even care how Edward would feel if he knew what's going on?"

"First, why should he care? He's getting what he wants. Second, I'm not lying—he's hot and he's smart. It's not like it's a hardship to go out with him. So what if I get a little extra out of it? He doesn't need to know a little revenge makes it all sweeter. And finally—" she sneered— "it doesn't matter how serious I was. You poach on my territory; I return the favor."

I was shaking. I'd never imagined someone as poisonous as Lauren could really exist. She took Mean Girls to a whole new level. Jessica had an excellent point—at least she'd been honest with me. My brain raced, searching frantically for the perfect retort that would put Lauren in her place, but I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I still wasn't sure what I'd say—or if I'd just grab my book and make a run for it—when I entered the room. Both girls turned right away. Jessica had the grace to look embarrassed; Lauren seemed discomfited for a moment but quickly regained her composure. Seemingly serene, she watched me approach.

My book was on the desk right next to them, and they were blocking me. Unexpectedly, I found refuge in manners.

"Excuse me, ladies. I left my book here." Jessica immediately stepped back, making room for me. Lauren stood still until I looked her in the eye and told her firmly, "You need to get out of my way." I don't know what was in my face, but she finally seemed a little shaken and moved away.

I picked up my book and quickly walked several feet away. A small part of me really wanted to do something violent, and I knew I'd never forgive myself if I gave in to that impulse. Once I was at a safe distance, I stopped, took a deep breath, and turned around to face her.

"I'm sure you'll understand that our date this weekend is off."

I didn't wait for a response. I just walked out. I told myself I could hold it together until I got home. Then I could let out...whatever I was feeling. I still wasn't even sure what it was.

An hour or so of hard piano playing later, I'd pretty much sorted myself out. Once I calmed down, I realized that none of it was even about me. It was all about Lauren and her fucked-up worldview. It wasn't personal. She hadn't pretended she felt stronger than she did, and it wasn't like I was dreaming of hearts and flowers myself. But the thought of going out with someone that malicious left me completely cold. In an odd way, I'd almost have preferred it if it had been personal—at least I wouldn't feel like some inanimate instrument of her revenge. If I was lucky, I'd never speak to her again.

Spring break was coming, and I figured I'd give myself a break before trying to date again. Two strikes in a row had me a bit nervous.

Meanwhile, Emmett seemed to be having better luck in his effort to get closer to Rosalie Hale. The spring formal wasn't until two weeks after we got back from break, but he'd been using the committee meetings to soften her up, even getting her to grab an after-meeting snack at one of the delis a couple of times.

Spring break was perfect—instead of a beach, we headed to the Rockies for some late-season skiing. Carlisle and Esme especially seemed to enjoy it; I think they'd assumed we'd never have a family vacation again.

When I got back, I was ready to try dating again, and I'd even thought about who I should ask out.

Heidi was in my government class. She had a brand of self-confidence that was almost intimidating, but she could also be laid-back, which made her seem more approachable. Her contributions to class discussions indicated she had distinct anarchical tendencies, and I figured at least we'd have some lively conversation. To top it all off, she was supermodel-gorgeous, all long legs and long hair, high cheekbones and full lips. She wasn't really curvy, but she oozed sex, so who cared?

I was nervous asking Heidi to a concert, a local band that was popular on campus, so I was relieved and happy when she accepted. She made it clear that she found me old-fashioned when I didn't fall into bed with her afterward, but she seemed to like my kisses. We went out a lot over the next few weeks, and given how I was making my way around the bases with her, I was bound to slide into home plate before the end of the semester.

After the spring formal, Rosalie became a regular visitor at our house. That night seemed to mark a turning point for her and Emmett—she still didn't put up with his nonsense, but she wasn't holding him at arms' length, either. Somewhat to my surprise, she never spent the night, and even more to my surprise, Emmett seemed to be fine with that. All he would say, though, is that things were different with her—like that wasn't already obvious—and it was none of my business.

She wasn't an easy person to get to know, but we got along okay. She'd heard from Emmett about some of my dating misadventures—thanks for that, Emmett—and told me I'd better get used to it.

"Used to what?"

"Beautiful people get treated differently. People say looks don't matter or they're not the most important thing. But it's the first thing people see, and consciously or not, it determines how they react to you."

I snorted. "I'm not beautiful. I mean, I don't look like the loser geek I was in high school, but that's not saying much."

She tilted her head and surveyed me. "False modesty won't help anything, Edward. You're an exceptionally good-looking guy, and you may as well accept it. Otherwise, you'll never be able to know when someone genuinely likes you and when they just like how you look. And if you don't know that, you won't know when they're using you."

Her matter-of-fact tone was disturbing on some level, but it left no doubt that she meant what she was saying.

"So how can I tell the difference?"

She shrugged. "Watch people. See how they interact with you, and notice if they act differently depending on whether you're out in public—where they can show you off. Listen for whether they ask about you or just want to talk about themselves or make small talk to fill the silence. You'll pick it up."

I stared at her. Something in her manner told me she considered these tips to be crucial self-preservation skills, and I couldn't prevent my question. "What happened to you?"

Her face immediately went hard, and her voice became even more offhand. "None of your business. Just consider this the voice of experience—hard-won experience. Believe me, you will learn—it's just like a Skinner box. After you're zapped a few times, you learn which lever not to pull."

She was silent for a moment, seeming to gather herself. I wanted to offer some sympathy, but I had no idea how to do it in a way that she'd accept. As I was floundering, the moment passed, and she concluded her advice.

"It's your choice. A lot of girls will want to fuck you because you're hot. You can either take them up on it and get what you want out of it, too, or you can hold on to your v-card until you find someone who really likes you for you."

Burning with embarrassment and thinking to myself that I'd have to kill Emmett at the first opportunity, I stammered, "Wh-what? I don't—"

She cut me off. "Emmett didn't tell me anything. And I didn't know for sure until you just confirmed it."

I was sure I was blushing.

She turned her head and looked at me fully for the first time since she'd started on this topic. I guess my expression must have been a little shell-shocked because her face softened in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Edward. I guess I got carried away. I'm just trying to help. Emmett loves you a lot, you know. I thought maybe..." Her voice trailed off.

She was pretty scary when she was talking, but she'd made some good points. I tried to reassure her. "No, it's okay. I mean, you're pretty blunt, but you've given me some things to think about. You've kinda clarified some things that have crossed my mind. I'm just...well, I'm really sorry for whatever 'experience' made you learn it in the first place. You're a good person."

A wry smile twisted her lips. "I don't know about that."

I was firm, as firm as she'd been about my looks. "I do. Like you said, false modesty helps nothing. Emmett has a heart as big as he is, and he wouldn't feel the way he does about you if you weren't a good person. And look how you're trying to help me—you don't owe me anything."

She looked me in the eye for a moment before dropping her gaze, suddenly almost shy. "He is pretty wonderful, isn't he?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's the best."

She pulled herself back together. "So, your call. Take on a fuck-buddy or ten, or wait for Ms. Right."

I laughed. "I'll think about it."

Rosalie's words remained with me over the next week or so, echoing in my head at odd times. I vowed to sharpen my observation skills.

Her warning seemed especially loud on my next date with Heidi. I got the feeling Heidi'd had enough of my old-fashioned manners. I watched her as Rosalie had suggested, even though I felt vaguely like a double-agent: on one hand, interacting with her as usual, but on the other, dispassionately gathering information. I realized she didn't care much about my looks, exactly, although she certainly liked them. But I also figured out she found me mildly amusing. She had to know I had less experience than she did, and she seemed to enjoy the feeling of power that gave her. I decided I didn't care—hell, it was pretty funny. We could still each get what we wanted.

I kept thinking that as I took her home and followed her inside...as we kissed hungrily, tongues mating and tangling...as I stripped off her shirt and pulled her already-taut nipples into my mouth...as she pulled off my clothes and pumped me with her hand a few times...all the way until she shimmied out of her jeans and panties and handed me a condom.

I stared at it. I knew what it was, of course. I'd even practiced putting one on in hopes of just such an occasion. Slowly, I took it from her and awkwardly, after a couple of tries, ripped the foil open. Even more awkwardly, I started to roll it on. Making an impatient noise, she took it from me and rolled it on herself. Her tone wasn't harsh, but it wasn't nice either as she said, "You forgot the reservoir at the tip—it would have burst. Come on, you've done this before."

I cleared my throat as I felt a blush heat my face. "Actually, no, I haven't. This will be my first time." Oh God, was I starting to go limp?

She stared at me and then said, "You're kidding, right?"

I shook my head.

She started laughing. Not just a chuckle, not a few giggles at the awkwardness, but loud, uncontrollable hilarity.

I felt like I was burning, I was so embarrassed. Yep. Definitely getting soft.

When the laughter didn't stop, I'd had enough. Was it really too much to ask? Someone who didn't bore me, wasn't using me, and didn't laugh at me? I jerked the condom off and started putting my clothes back on, anger and shame rushing through me. I was almost fully dressed by the time she pulled herself together enough to talk.

"Hey, you don't have to go. I'm s-s-sorry." Her attempted apology was spoiled by another wave of giggles.

I checked to make sure I had my cell phone and wallet, and then I answered her with as much dignity as I could muster.

"Yeah, I do have to go. I'm sorry I disappointed you tonight. With all my fumbling, I thought you knew I didn't have much experience...well, okay, any experience. I guess I didn't realize how funny that would be or I'd have told you straight out and at a less awkward moment."

By now she'd stopped laughing, but a smile still quirked her lips. "Edward, it's okay. I totally did not expect that. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I knew you didn't have a lot of experience, but it never even occurred to me you could be a virgin. You don't have to go. Now that I know, we can take it as slow as you want. And I promise I won't laugh anymore."

She was sincere; I could see that. But I didn't care. I faced the fact that I didn't want a mutually beneficial yet stale usage of each other. I wanted some genuine feeling.

An epiphany, I think they call it. Certainty washed over me, and I knew what I wanted and what I had to do now.

I didn't want a fuck-buddy. I wanted a lover. And if that meant I had to wait a little longer, so be it.

I accepted her apology with as much grace as I could manage—her laughter still stung, after all. Then I said goodbye and left.

Emmett and Rosalie were on the couch watching The Princess Bride when I got home. I said a quick "hi" on my way to the stairs, thinking to give them some privacy.

I should have known better.

"Edward!"

Turning back, I found two pairs of sympathetic blue eyes watching me. Emmett broke the silence. "You okay, dude? We didn't expect you back so early." I could tell he wanted to say he hadn't expected me until morning. He'd known my plans for tonight without me telling him, and he knew that something had obviously gone wrong.

"I'm fine." My gaze shifted to Rosalie. "I guess you could say I made my choice. Mutually beneficial use just isn't my thing."

She smiled and patted the couch beside her. "Come on, there's plenty of room. You know you love this movie."

I was tempted. The combination of brilliant humor, escapes, pirates, and sword fights sounded pretty good, although I wasn't sure I was ready for the "Wuv, twu wuv" part.

"I don't want to keep you two from necking on the couch." I snickered.

Emmett laughed. "You won't, dude. Just don't look."

I gave a quick snort that turned to outright laughter when Rosalie smacked his head. "Stop that." Her eyes actually twinkled though, and she added, "We'll just wait until you're upstairs after the movie."

I stepped into the room. "Well, if you're sure..."

Neither answered me verbally. Rosalie just snuggled a little closer to Emmett, leaving me plenty of room on the couch next to them.

I settled in and laughed as the Man in Black told Fezzik to dream of large women. I didn't know who I'd be dreaming of, but it would just be dreams for a while longer.

~IN~

A/N: I'm really going to try to do better. I've been taking time off this story too much for other projects, and I need to stop doing that so often. I'm not going to promise a specific update schedule, but it will not be as long as this one, lol.

I've had several questions about when our two main characters will get together. At this point, I'm planning one more solo chapter for each before they meet, which means Chapter 8, at the beginning of their senior year, is when things will start really heating up.

Finally, my betas had a question about how I referred to "the delis." I'm not sure what this says about Williamsburg's social scene, but some of the main student hangouts are a few delis clustered together near campus. Great sandwiches by day, cheap pitchers of beer at night. I have many fond memories of them. :)

So, what do you think of Edward's adventures in trying to get some? Do you think he made the right decisions?

Thanks for reading!