Usual disclaimer applies.

May, 2012

~80~

My alarm beeps gratingly in my ear, and I slap it away, rolling over with a groan.

Graduation Day.

I burrow my face into the pillow. My blankets make a warm cocoon around me that I doubt I'll ever want to leave. It is so easy to fall back asleep…

My door opens swiftly, and I know it's Edward. If it were my dad the door would be cautiously maneuvered, first only an inch or two, enough for him to peak his head in. He is leery ever since catching Edward and I making out in my bed.

But really, only Edward's shirt had been off. That isn't so bad, is it?

Suddenly I am squished under the weight of him, his body pressing into mine, his hands tickling my ribs.

"Where's my hello, huh? What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

I giggle under his intruding fingers, wriggling and trying to escape.

But not really.

Edward flops over onto his back, one hand under his head, the other fingering my hair. I curl my body around his, letting my head rest on his chest, my legs intertwine with his.

It feels like home.

"I can't wait to be done of this place. To just get out of here."

I turn my head so I can see his expression, wondering what made him convey this thought this time.

But his face gives nothing away.

And once again, like every time he has brought the future up, I feel my stomach drop.

Because for him, it is so simple. He could go anywhere. And every place I would be able to afford wouldn't be good enough; wouldn't be near his potential. Hell, just last week Esme hinted that Edward study in Italy for a semester.

Italy!

"Forks really that bad?" My voice is small, timid. Trying to be strong and funny.

And Edward understands immediately.

"No, Bella. No. I'm sorry. I'm an ass. When I say to get out of this place, you know I mean with you, right? Nowhere on this planet would be anything without you." He speaks hurriedly, ashamed. But I have heard it before. And despite his declaration, the pure honesty in his voice, I really don't think he would be very happy with just the University of Washington if that was all I could afford.

But I can't let him go on feeling guilty. "I just meant that, well, what brought it up this time?"

Edward just quirks a brow.

"Your parents?" I surmise.

He nods stiffly.

"Edward, if you would just tell me what they do that is so horrible…"

But I can already tell that once again, he won't give me a satisfactory answer.

Trying to stifle a gasp, I sit up quickly, tangled in my bedding and shocked at my dream.

I haven't had one of these dreams in months.

The unnerving dreams that consist only of vivid memories. Where I feel like I'm back there, like it's happening now. Even upon waking, it's hard to remember that that is not my reality; not anymore. Back when these dreams came a few times each week, I had been a mess, being forced to relive memories of Edward when all I wanted to do was forget.

It has been easier to not think about him, to ignore him, without the dreams.

I can only hope that this is a one-time deal.

Perhaps today's special occasion brought it on, made me remember how I had felt about graduating back then, back when staying with Edward after high school meant everything to me, obsessed me.

I hate to think about any other possibility for why I would be dreaming about Edward.

Rolling off of my bed, my safe haven, I quickly begin preparation for the day, eager to have it over with. It will be during the ceremony while I am walking across the stage that the announcement will be made concerning if I receive the Cullen Scholarship or not, and I can't tell if I'm excited about it or ready to throw up with nervousness.

I slip on a creamy yellow sundress, one from the days where I cared about how I looked, or perhaps what others thought about my appearance. It doesn't suit me at all anymore and I already feel uncomfortable displaying so much skin, but it is really the only thing I still own that could qualify as semi-formal material. I can at least take comfort in knowing my black gown will be covering it.

I catch the smallest trace, the delicious aroma, of what could only be my Dad's pancakes. They are one thing he knows how to cook well, and I smile instantly. Suddenly I feel ready to face the day.

A/N: Do you remember the day you graduated?

Thanks again for sticking with me!

And stay safe.