Sunday afternoon, Edward sends me a text apologizing for being rude the night before. I reply that all is fine and that I will see him on Monday at school.

I spent most of the night wide awake, wondering what is going on with me. I know I'm stressed about this play and I worry about how it's going to turn out. For everyone else, it's merely a grade, but for me it's the start of the rest of my life. It's the foundation for my future and even more than that—it's my dreams coming true. So it is a big deal for me to get it right.

Then there's Peter and I, and when I think about us, it's like I can't come to any type of conclusion. There's a part of me that doesn't want to lose him, but there's an equal part that feels we shouldn't be together anymore. Then the play comes back into my mind, and I'm reminded that I need him to be a part of it and then… hello, guilt!

I call Peter just to put my mind at ease and the strange thing is, when I talk to him, his voice sounds wonderful. It's like when I am away from him I'm lost, but when he's around, I have direction. It makes me insecure. I don't want to have to need him or anyone else for that matter, but now it's like he's my crutch. I try not to cry when I tell him about my worries with the play's production and he proceeds to life me up and reassure me it's going to work out.

I knew he was good for something. I swear he has this way of making me feel more like myself. I guess I need him in ways I don't even understand. But it doesn't stop that low, constant voice in my heart that keeps telling me to let him go.

I'm straddling the fence, dizzy with discontented, tired of simply settling. So much that it makes me want to throw up.

I ask him about spending the day with him. I think it would be good for us to have some time together, but he informs me that he can't have company today. Evidently, last night his friends encouraged him to try to shoot some pool and now his ankle is swelled and his mom is pissed.

So, it's just me and my thoughts.

I go to my room and grab my headphones. I plug them into my computer and start playing the recordings of the play. I make some notes as I go along and before I know it I have to go pee.

I hear a loud shout from Jacob's room, so I peek inside the door to make sure he is okay.

My breath catches in my throat when I see Edward sitting on Jacob's floor, playing Xbox with him. They are yelling and laughing so loud that they don't even hear me enter.

I'm in a bit of a stupor, but I approach them both until I am in their view and they can't help but see me.

Edward almost drops his controller, probably because the look of shock on my face.

"Bella, you don't need Edward to practice today do ya? I invited him over to play me in this new game I bought last night." Jacob won't even take his eyes off the screen, whereas I can't look away from Edward.

"No, he's all yours, Jake." Edward peeks up at me; his smile is dismal and barely there, but I give him a bigger one in return.

"Hi," I mouth and throw my hand up in a wave.

His grin grows just a smidgen. "Hey."

I step back out of their way and mosey right out of Jacob's room to let them have their fun.

I do leave both Jacob's and my door open to eaves drop on their hoopla.

/ / /

The next week at school is busy with end of semester testing, and afterward we have play practice. Edward always shows up, but in this particular part of the play, he doesn't have any lines. I sometimes see him helping with the set design to pass the time. It makes me think he may be trustworthy after all.

I see him in school, no—more like I can feel him around me. His stare has this burn... It's crazy and I've never noticed it before, but he and his friends are always around. Every free time—at lunch, in the parking lot, between classes. It doesn't take much to find him. He's right there, close enough to spot, yet far enough away to wonder if it's intentional or not.

A couple of times he nods his head in my direction, and once there is even some girl right in his face, but it doesn't stop him from acknowledging me. It is a small victory that I kept to myself.

I always smile, say hi, pretend that my insides aren't jittery and my heart isn't beating way too fast just by seeing him.

As the week wears on, I find myself searching him out. It's like I need to know where he is, what he's doing, who he's with—it's so wrong but I can't help it. An obsession I have no business obsessing over.

On Friday, Edward and I finally have a part to rehearse and I haven't really spoke to him all week.

I'm standing off to the side of the stage when he walks up and leans into me. He's way taller than I am, my shoulder hits right above his elbow.

But something about his weight, his skin, him against me...

"Are you finally going to talk to me or are you still mad at me?" he says, while looking ahead at the action on the stage instead of looking at me.

"What are you talking about? I'm not mad at you." I find myself wanting to lean toward him more.

I glance up at him and he's chewing a toothpick. "You haven't spoken to me all week."

"I assure you it wasn't on purpose, but you haven't talked to me either!" I point out.

"I can't."

"Why can't you?" I turn to face him and he almost loses his balance.

He backs up a few steps and leans against the wall. "Your boyfriend's minions are keeping tabs on us and I can't get into another fight on school property. Which is what would happen if someone said the wrong thing around me, so it's best that I don't."

I'm standing there in shock. I can't believe that Peter would tell his friends to keep an eye on me and watch out for whom I talk to. That's ridiculous and I won't put up with it.

Edward and I move to center stage. I carry a script for reference. We stand there and wait for our cue.

There's an angry blob churning in my stomach and all I want to do is call Peter and cuss him out.

"Has anyone ever told you how hot you are when you're pissed? You get this fire in your eyes..." Edward points and circles around my face.

"Stop it." I try to hide my grin, but just like that my mad melts away.

"It's true, I think I'll try to piss you off more often." He wiggles his eyebrows.

I swat at his arm and he grabs my hand.

I start to pull my hand away.

"Bella, you and Edward, take your place over here." Mrs. Cope shouts. "And then wait for Lee to shine the spotlight on you both."

Edward leads me to our spot. I look down at our joined hands, and then back up to his face. He has that look in his eyes again—like he's so alive. He squeezes my fingers and I feel the warmth spread through me—fast like a current up my arm. It leaves a tingle in its wake.

Mrs. Cope walks over to stand in front of us. She's barking orders at someone, but I'm lost in a trance of the here and the now and how it feels to be hand in hand with Edward Cullen. How it should feel odd and inappropriate and I should want to stop. How I should feel awkward and guilty and not want anyone to get the wrong idea.

But none of that enters my mind, instead I squeeze his hand back and hold on tight.

"The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain." ~ Dolly Parton