A/N: So, I suppose I'll just put this out here—you may want to adjust your expectations from here on out. Updates will be a tad slower, as I'm working totally on my own now. This chapter took me almost a week to write—luckily, I'm still a few chapters ahead of where you guys are at—just trying to piece together the timeline of things. I've got a pretty good idea of Edythe's psychology now; it's just making sure everything stays true to cannon (in regards to chronology and such).

Please let me know what you think, guys; and don't be afraid to give me some constructive criticism if you so see fit. As I said before, I want to make sure everything is accurate and up to par.

Enjoy this one, readers!

(P.S. Edythe's playlist is up, over at 8tracks! - /wintersunshine/you-pull-me-in-like-the-moon-pulls-on-the-tide

…

Defiant fury pulled me down Forks' damp streets, past the town's limits and halfway home before I pulled the car onto the shoulder, the tires squealing sharply in protest at my sharp deceleration.

The instinct that had me fleeing was abruptly vacant, and I took a moment to collect myself.

It would be far better to know what Bonnie Black had to say to Charlie and Beau, rather than not. I put the car in drive, swung around, and raced back into town. I parked by a curb a few streets down, staring at the pits and divots in my windshield. The rain sprinkled down, running rivers across the glass, slipping in and out of the shallow ruts.

I was surprised to find how loud Julie Black's thoughts were, more authoritative in tone than I would have thought for a girl her age.

This was the young girl who had unknowingly altered Beau's life—had revealed our secret to him. She hadn't done it on purpose, thinking the legends were just so—made up stories. Regardless, she had breached the treaty. Apparently Beau's conning had more of an effect than he had projected. Julie's thoughts were filled with infatuation.

"Sorry," Beau was saying now, "I haven't seen any… what was it you were looking for?"

Julie's thoughts were filled with humor at his lack of knowledge. She didn't hold it against him—in fact, she found it charming. "Master cylinder," she clarified. "Is something wrong with the truck?"

"No."

"Oh. I just wondered because you weren't driving it."

She was stalling; it was obvious.

"I got a ride with a friend," Beau muttered. Friend. I thought about that for a minute. Did he not want to tell this Julie about me? Unreasonable envy flared.

"Nice ride." The compliment was genuine, probably because she didn't know who I was yet. That, or she simply didn't hold the old legends against me. "I didn't recognize the driver, though. I thought I knew most of the kids around here."

Beau didn't answer.

"My mom seemed to know her from somewhere," she hinted. She was more than just transitorily interested. She wanted to know if we were dating—if her interests were being returned or not.

"Jules, could you hand me some plates? They're in the cupboard over the sink."

He was stalling, I knew this. Julie persisted.

"Sure… So who was it?"

Beau sighed, and it sounded a lot like resignation. Why? Did he not want to tell people about me? "Edythe Cullen," he admitted.

Julie Black laughed, unbothered. "Guess that explains it, then." Suddenly, her mother's reaction was clear to her. She didn't believe in the legends, but her mother did—with great conviction. "I wondered why my mom was acting so strange."

"That's right. She doesn't like the Cullens." Did Julie catch on to the obvious way Beau tried to act oblivious?

"Superstitious old bat…"

"You don't think she'd say anything to Charlie?" Beau had dropped the volume of his voice.

Julie wondered about this, about why Beau would want to keep a girl a secret from his father. She deliberated for a minute over the fact that we might be serious or not. "I doubt it," she finally said. "I think Charlie chewed her out pretty good last time. They haven't spoken much since—tonight is sort of a reunion, I think. I don't think she'd bring it up again."

"Oh." Beau feigned indifference. Was it as obvious to her as it was to me?

Beau seemed entirely uncomfortable with the Blacks in his home, and I wondered about that. Was it because he thought she would say something to Charlie, which I knew would never happen? This woman would never say anything in a million years—she was not prepared to break the sacrilegious pact of the treaty.

Or was it because Beau simply didn't want anyone knowing about me? It seemed, out of the two options, that this was more likely, despite the conjectures I'd made about our relationship today.

Metaphorical heart sinking, I put the car in drive and headed home—I had gleaned enough information for one night.

…

Archie was waiting for me when I drove up, perched atop the porch railing, head tipped back against the wooden post. He had his eyes shut, and if I hadn't known better, I would have assumed he was sleeping.

"Hey," he said when I got out of the car, without opening his eyes, "I'm sixty… eight percent sure that Beau won't die on Saturday."

"Great news," I intoned, shutting the car door behind me.

He opened his eyes and focused on my face. "Wanna go for a walk?"

"Sure."

We raced around back of the house, down the sloping lawn, and launched ourselves into the air to leap across the river. Once we'd landed on the other side, we slowed to a walk, side by side.

What's got your face in such a knot? Archie wanted to know as we walked through the foliage.

I sighed, avoiding a gnarled tree root deftly, and thought of Beau. "Lousy mood."

"Oh ho," he chuckled, giving me a playful shove, "What else is new?"

I rolled my eyes at him. "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me."

Archie leaped, catching a low-hanging branch, and executed a perfect gymnast's Tkatchev. He landed in a crouch and grinned boastfully at me.

I narrowed my eyes at him and shook my head. "Do you want to hear the story or not? Quit jerking around."

Archie laughed, and then loped back to my side and threw an arm around my shoulders. "Okay, I'm sorry. Yes—I would like to hear the story."

"It was before you and Jess joined us. That was when the treaty was signed, between Carine and Emily Black—the former chief of the Quileutes. Julie Black and her mother were at Charlie's tonight. Julie's mother, Bonnie, is her granddaughter. She wants to warn Beau's father about my influence."

Archie appraised me with serious eyes for a long moment.

"She can't say anything about the treaty," I reminded myself, shaking my head, "But that might not stop her from warning him that I might not be… Good for him."

That won't stop you, he thought quietly.

My face jerked up to his, and I could feel the fire in my glare. "Won't it?" I snapped, "Don't I have more strength than that? Or is it already a foregone conclusion?"

Archie didn't answer, his mind faraway. He was seeing the two options—the two that hadn't faded, all through the course of my shifting and changing decisions.

The inevitable is becoming clearer, he mused.

"No." The word slipped from between my clenched teeth. "I will not destroy his soul. I couldn't live with myself…"

Archie sighed, seeing that his argument would get him nowhere. He turned back, toward the way we'd come. You could, he thought.

…

Nighttime had always been the hardest for me.

In the beginning, it had been only Carine and I. We would spend the night in friendly companionship, reading, honing our skills, talking, getting to know one another. She had spent so long being alone—even in her three-hundred-plus years of vampirism, she had never felt well-placed in this world—and my creation had been an act of desperate loneliness. She taught me so many things about what it meant to be 'good', about love, and kindness and unending devotion. The constance between us grew quickly—almost instantaneous in its conception. I saw Carine as a mother immediately, and I, her daughter. Our relationship was an inexplicable and tender faith-hood, the bonds more reinforced than the purest of titanium.

And then Earnest joined us, and I didn't regret the addition to the family in any way, but once they coupled together, I was left on my own most nights, the eternal third wheel. How it would be as the rest of our family members joined—Royal next, and then Eleanor, two years later. After that, Jess and Archie came to us, led by his vision of the seven of us—a family unit.

The nocturnal hours had always thrown a shadow over my mood, anyway, always making it seem that I had to hide—always bringing into the focus the nature of my being, a very creature of the night.

But this had all changed, in the recent weeks. I no longer felt the impending gloom of the coming night; I no longer resigned myself to the long runs through purple woods, or hours spent composing at my piano—which, I loved, but still. I no longer filled the insignificant hours with reading or learning or listening to music. There were times, of course, when the duos would emerge from their couplings to interact with me. We'd play games, share stories, but more often than not, they chose to go off and spend their nights alone—whether to indulge in their physical bonds, or to simply spend the time deepening their emotional and mental relationships.

But now, I had something to look forward to—each and every night. Eleanor didn't understand how watching a simple human sleep could be so riveting, but she didn't understand the magnetic pull Beau had residing inside of him. She didn't understand the way he beguiled me. And maybe I was biased, seeing as I was in love with him, but either way, it didn't matter.

I was no longer alone in the night—no matter how oblivious my companion was.

The hours passed seamlessly while I watched Beau sleep. I longed for more time, always, but the morning would come eventually.

For now, I took up my typical residence in the rocking chair in the corner, and I watched him sleep.

I had always, of course, felt deep reverence for each of my family members. But the connection I felt to Beau was something entirely different. He had altered me in rare and permanent ways, and I was forever drawn to him—a moth to a flame, a cold, desolate planet orbiting his bright, warm sun. Once I had faced the truth of my connection to him, it seemed imbecilic to think that I could ever have avoided this. I would find a way to balance our worlds, no matter how much concentration it took, no matter how slim the point of equilibrium was.

I did not think I would survive the alternative.

Beau sighed now, his brows knitting together, eyes flickering back and forth beneath his eyelids. I was desperate to know the images he was watching, but then he uttered, very astutely, "It's too green."

Fond humor flooded me, and I felt great pleasure in being able to depict the reasoning behind his words. To anyone else, it might have sounded random and unanchored, but I knew the weight behind his words, behind the pucker in his brow. He missed his home, he missed the red and brown earth he'd spoken so reverently of, the spiny, barren foliage he had tried to describe to me.

He was more peaceful tonight, the words farther and fewer between. He was quiet for another hour, his chest rising and falling rhythmically in his slumber, and I gazed out the tiny square of his window, watching the deep indigo of night lighten to mauve, wondering if that was all I was going to get tonight.

But then he rolled, murmuring once more. I leaned forward in my seat, rapt with attention. His fingers twitched, and he sighed, "Edythe." It was almost a mere breath, the way he said my name, and suddenly I was glowing. How could the mere muttering of my name from mortal lips cause me such acute pleasure?

"Edythe," he said again, "Edythe, can I kiss you?"

I froze, eyes peeling back in astonishment at his spoken words. Where before, there had been the vague shadow of the unknown, when he'd spoken sweet and tender things in his sleep, tonight the sentence had clearly been directed right at me.

I had seen his reaction in the biology room, the way he'd wanted to reach out and touch me, the way he'd pressed his arm against my own. I'd seen the way his fingers would twitch toward mine while we walked, either in the parking lot or across campus, but to desire to press his warm, soft, vulnerable lips against the stone of mine? Was it possible?

My own desire, of course, was as present as ever. This sweet boy charmed me in ways I hadn't known I could be, and I had fought the mental images and urges off time and time again. It wouldn't be safe, to allow my teeth such proximity to his fragrant skin… But I could not deny the craving that came with the thought. To press my lips to his, to feel the warmth of his skin against mine. I remembered the way his hand had felt on mine in the car after the ill-fated night in Port Angeles, how it had felt so much more than merely skin on skin. It had felt almost a sharing of influence; as if I'd come alive simply by the presence of his skin so near to my own. To feel every pulse of his ulnar artery, as if those pounding thumps could become my own, as if I could almost be… Human again.

And then, of course, was the supernatural, completely inhuman nature of my yearnings. These I hadn't paid much attention to up until now, but they were becoming impossible to ignore. The need to put my claim on him, the craving to bond myself to him in a way only I could.

And, then, deeper than that, the purely physiological, biological aspect. The strange, physical responses I felt in my body—a body that, by all means, was completely frozen. How could it be, after all this time, that I would be able to feel these things? Physical responses I had never felt, even when human myself. Responses and urges I desperately wanted to fulfill.

But could I succeed? Could I be as gentle with him as I knew I would need to be? All while controlling the deep, passionate need inside me that felt so all-consuming, so powerful, I was worried about the strength behind it…? I pondered this, the difference between the nature of my lustful impulses. Of course, there was the ever-present desire for his blood. I didn't know how much of this made up the other desires—how much of it was just a thinly-veiled motive to get my teeth closer to his skin. Possibly my deeper, instinctual desires attempting to trick me… I didn't have an answer to that, but I did know that the power his blood had formerly held over me was not as strong as it used to be.

I could control it now. The burning of my throat, the flow of venom in my mouth—the hunting instincts that I could not control, to a degree—were there, but the yearning behind it was no longer present. It was merely a factor of dominating the reflexes.

Was I strong enough to do that?

I didn't know, but I would have liked to find out, despite the paralyzing anxiety that rose in direct correlation with the appeal.

The sun was rising, fingers of glorious orange, red and yellow crawling across the sky. Beau's window appeared as a frame around a picture, dawn's ascent bursting from the folds of a delicate skirt the color of burnt copper.

It was time for me to go.

…

"Your odds are even better than last night," Archie told me as I descended the stairs, jacket over my arm, bag over my shoulder. "What happened?"

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Like you don't know."

He smirked smugly at me, and his thoughts were shuffling at too quick a rate for me to read them accurately. "Do I get to meet him today?"

"Fine," I relented, "I'll introduce you." I jabbed a finger at him. "But be good."

Archie blinked, his expression one of complete innocence. "When am I anything but?"

"When, indeed?" I rolled my eyes, brushing past him on the way out the door.

And, yes, I'll take the afternoon off to hunt with you.

Yes, I supposed that would be a good idea—in order to prepare for the 'morrow.

I arrived in Beau's neighborhood before Chief Swan had departed, and I parked around the corner in the interim, while they had breakfast together and conversed.

I thought some more about the prospect I had spent time thinking over last night. I pacified myself with the reasoning that Archie had only seen Beau's chance for survival increase when I'd considered giving him what he wanted.

"Edythe, can I kiss you?"

I couldn't define the reason behind what those mumbled words elicited inside of my body. The strange twisting of my stomach, the acceleration of my breath, the unconscious smile it brought to my lips.

"Yes, Beau," I wanted to whisper, "Kiss me."

But I had to be the one in control. I couldn't risk the unconscious gestures I might make. I had to be cautious, to be aware of every facet of sensation, sight and sound. My guard had to be up at all times, and I wondered if this strangely appealing, physical act of affection would hinder that somehow. Even the thought of it made my head woozy in a very unfamiliar way.

I heard Chief Swan start the cruiser and pull out of the driveway, and I quickly looped around to take his place, coming up one end of the street as he disappeared down the other.

Beau was at the door almost immediately, looking as delicious as always, locking the door behind him in haste. He didn't even seem to deliberate this morning, striding immediately to the passenger side of the Volvo.

I grinned at him, unable to control my joy. My very should-be unresponsive body reacted very viscerally to his presence. Not only that, but my emotional faculties, as well. I loved Beau in a way that made me feel utterly, delicately, human—and I had never felt stronger, as a result.

"How did you sleep?"

"Fine. How was your night?" he asked. His eyes searched my face in a way that might have made me feel self-conscious under any other circumstance. The blue in his irises were bright, excited, eager.

"Pleasant." I didn't have to think my answer through. Every night was exceedingly pleasant in which I was blessed with the opportunity to watch him sleep. But last night had been even more so…

"Can I ask what you did?"

"No," I replied, grinning at the thought of how he would react if I did. Adorable confusion. Endearing embarrassment. Beguiling discomfiture. "Today is still mine."

I had not had my fill of what made Beau, well, Beau. I leapt right back in to my list of questions as I reversed out of the driveway and headed toward the school. I drove just a little bit slower today, wanting as much alone time with him as I could get.

"Tell me more about your mother," I requested. "What does she pass her spare time doing?"

Beau laughed, a sound that brought an answering grin to my own face. "It changes all the time," he said, "That's one of the things that makes her, her. If you're asking for examples, I can think of anything from… Watercolor painting, to Zumba classes—" He paused briefly here, his face flushing, and I wondered about that, "—to rock-climbing." This one he winced at.

"Did you ever participate?"

I smiled softly when the blood flush underneath his skin deepened. I assumed I had been correct in my predictions.

"Some of them," he admitted. "But mostly we did things she thought I'd enjoy, too. We checked out a lot of antique bookstores, we took cooking classes together… Things like that. We took a lot of weekend trips up to my grandmother's, on the coast."

"Tell me about her."

"Grandma Marie?" Tenderness crossed his face. "She was great… She's actually the person I learned a lot of my recipes from. Once I was old enough to slice a tomato, I was in the kitchen with her before every meal. She loved to cook for people, and I loved being with her, talking about music and books and movies. We were… Pretty close."

"When did she die?" My voice was soft, tender. For all the consideration he'd had for me regarding the demise of my own parents, this was a much more touchy subject for him. The loss was fresh, and he'd been close to her.

"She died when I was fourteen. Breast cancer." He shrugged. "She went pretty quickly." He was staring into his lap now, his eyes troubled, and I wanted to comfort him.

I changed the subject. "Tell me about your school friends. Were you close with many people back in Arizona?"

He looked up at me. "Not really." He shrugged. "I mean, I had a few buddies, but mostly I kinda just kept to myself. They were all into video games and girls, and I… Wasn't, so much…"

"Girls," I mused. Surely he could not have gotten by this long without reciprocating interest in someone. And if the girls in Phoenix had been anything like the girls in Forks, he had not gotten by without some semblance of a relationship. As envious as the thought made me, I pushed for the information anyway.

He flushed bright red when I brought the topic up. "I've never, really… Dated anyone," he admitted, voice low with embarrassment.

I found this hard to believe. And on another, token, the thought pleased me. "So you never met anyone you wanted?" How could that be?

"Not in Phoenix."

I pressed my lips into a thin line, frustrated with his short answer. Would he tell me if it were me he was interested in? Or was it someone else?

We were in the cafeteria now. The morning had passed in a fashion I was steadily becoming used to. Where before, my school days dragged, now they passed much too quickly. I was glad it was Friday. Glad for the time I would have with him tomorrow, despite the dangerous predicament it presented.

Beau took a bite of his sandwich, and I took pause to listen to Archie's incessant whining. Half of the lunch hour had passed, and he was growing impatient.

C'mon, Edy! Let me come say 'hi'. I'm dying over here!

I chuckled under my breath at that.

"I should have let you drive yourself today." I addressed Beau now.

He swallowed the bite he'd been chewing. "Why?"

"I'm leaving with Archie after lunch."

"Oh." He blinked rapidly, and I could hear the disappointment in his voice, which he tried hopelessly to mask. "That's okay, it's not that far of a walk."

I frowned at him, hoping he didn't think so little of me to make him walk home in the rain. "I'm not going to make you walk home. We'll go get your truck and leave it here for you."

"I don't have my key with me." He sighed, resigned to the fact, but obviously he wasn't aware of my superior tracking skills. "I really don't mind walking." He still sounded disappointed. Was it over the trek he thought he'd have to make home, or was it because I was leaving early? I clung desperately to the latter possibility.

I shook my head at Beau now. "Your truck will be here, and the key will be in the ignition—unless you're afraid someone might steal it." I laughed at the highly improbable likelihood.

"Okay." He didn't sound convinced. "So where are you going?"

"Hunting. If we're going to be alone together tomorrow, I'm going to take whatever precautions I can." Suddenly, I hoped he would give up on the entire institute, as heartbroken as I would be. I reminded myself that as long as I suffered, Beau stayed safe. "You can always cancel, you know," I reminded him.

He didn't look at me for a moment. "No," he finally breathed, his eyes flitting to mine, "I can't."

I thought about that for a minute, wondering if I, myself, would be able to keep myself away from him, notwithstanding the hazard it risked. How despicable a creature I was, so self-serving. I wanted to prove my experiments, I wanted to succeed. But more than that, I did not think I would be able to withstand the pain of being away from him.

"Perhaps you're right," I murmured in agreement.

He watched me for a minute, rapt with sudden inattention. That glazed look in his eyes… Was it trepidation, or allure?

"What time tomorrow?" he asked, sounded sad again.

"That depends," I told him, "It's Saturday. Don't you want to sleep in?"

"No," he blurted immediately, and unbidden, the grin rose to my face. His eagerness delighted me—all the dark, selfish parts, that is.

"Same time as usual, then?"

He nodded. "Where should I pick you up?"

"I'll come to your place, also as usual." I didn't want him getting lost on the way to my house—that, and I didn't want him to have to face my family if he didn't want to. That could come later…

"Um, it doesn't help with the Charlie situation if an unexplained Volvo is left in the driveway." His tone was wrought with skepticism.

I grinned. "I wasn't intending to bring a car."

"How—?"

"Don't worry about it," I interjected, toying with the idea of how he'd react to my superhuman speed. Maybe I could show him… "I'll be there, no car. No chance that Charlie will see anything out of the ordinary." And then something else occurred to me. "And then, if you don't come home, it will be a complete mystery, won't it?" Maybe I should bring the car…

"Guess so," he said, shrugging, "Maybe I'll get on the news and everything."

I felt my scowl deepen. This was not a joke. But I wondered, as I watched him eat his lunch, if he really didn't find me as threatening as I so thought. Did he trust me so? Did he have that much faith in me?

The wonderment softened my mood.

"What are you hunting tonight?" he finally asked, and his tone was surprisingly casual. Did this truly not frighten him?

"Whatever we find in the park," I answered with equal insouciance, "We aren't going far." I stared at him, hoping my off-handedness would bring out some of his own trepidation, like I'd hoped the day before, but his expression remained unchanged.

"Why are you going with Archie?" he asked, "Didn't you say he was being annoying?"

Annoying, indeed. His thoughts beat at the back of my mind, begging for his 'in', threatening to make it himself if I didn't relent soon. I focused on the conversation at hand.

"He's still the most… supportive."

"And the rest of them?" Did I detect some trepidation in his tone now? "What are they?"

Many, many different reactions had made their selves known to me among my family members. I grappled for a reaction they would all be able to agree upon. "Incredulous, for the most part," I decided.

He peeked over my shoulder, toward the table they sat around.

"They don't like me," he concluded.

"That's not it," I argued. They don't like that you're human. They don't like the risk of exposure I'm taking. "They don't understand why I can't leave you alone."

He frowned. "Me, either."

I smiled encouragingly. "You're not like anyone I've ever known, Beau. You fascinate me."

"I can't understand that," he muttered.

How to make him see? How could he not know how beguiling he was? How could he not know how fascinatingly unpredictable—how he never gave me the reactions I'd been expecting; how completely unique he was, among this human race of unchanging sheep? How could he not see what a spectacular specimen of a human being he was? "Have the advantages I do," I began, touching the tip of my finger to my forehead, "I have a better-than-average grasp of human nature. People are predictable. But you… you never do what I expect. You always take me by surprise." His eyes strayed, obviously not convinced, so I continued on. I could accolade him for hours if it would help him comprehend even an inkling of the attraction I possessed for him. "That part is easy enough to explain. But there's more, and it's not so easy to put into words—" How utterly, unbearably human he made me feel, in the best way possible. How he had utterly and completely turned my world around—had dragged me from darkness into day. The way in which he'd altered every part of me was permanent and undeniable. Love was too simple a word for the way I felt about him…

Royal's vicious thoughts broke through my quiet monologue.

Don't you get too comfortable, kid,he snarled in his thoughts. I could see Beau, through his eyes, across the cafeteria, the terror in his eyes; the pleasure this brought Royal. I could still take you out. It would be easy… Too easy…

That same protective instinct rose up inside me, escaping through my teeth in a warning hiss. Royal could threaten and cajole and berate me all he wanted—but he would not threaten my Beau.

He turned his face away, turning his internal fury to me. That was fine. I could handle it.

"That was definitely dislike," Beau muttered under his breath. Did I detect a tremor of fear in his tone?

"I'm sorry about that," I apologized. His fear caused me great pain. "He's just worried. You see… it's dangerous for more than just me if, after spending so much time with you so publicly…" I couldn't bring myself to say the words, to imagine the awful, tragic end…

"If?" he urged.

More than the pain, it was vital for me to keep Beau aware of the risk he was taking, by being with me. More than the agony it caused me, it was important I kept Beau safe. Or, as safe as he was willing to be. "If this ends… badly."

I let the shame swallow me, dropping my very suddenly heavy head into my hands. I would not be able to live with myself if I were to harm Beau in any way. The agony of his terror, his pain, would haunt me unendingly. After all this time of building myself up the degree of confidence I thought I possessed, was it possible I wasn't quite as strong as I thought I was? Of course it was. Wasn't the evidence there in every word I said to him, every moment I allowed myself to spend in his warmth? Wasn't it there in the way I was hopelessly unable to keep myself away from him?

I felt his hand on my elbow, the heat of his skin oscillating through the thin fabric of my long-sleeved t-shirt immediately. His touch made the self-loathing worse. Not for the first time, he was trying to comfort me in a fashion that was completely backwards to how it should be. Shouldn't I be consoling him?

"And you have to leave now?" His voice sounded raw with tension.

"Yes." I let my hands drop, and appraised the place where he touched me for a moment. The thin membrane of his skin, the steady rush of blood beneath that membrane. So delicate. So fragile. But I found, with a rush of pleasure, that the animal did not rear its head.

Okay, enough stalling. My turn to meet Beau!

I smiled in exasperation of my annoyingly stubborn brother. He was intent on seeing the future of his and Beau's friendship play out.

"It's probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology—I don't think I could take anymore." I was glad that I wouldn't have to face the confusing myriad of emotions and yearnings.

Beau jerked suddenly, pulling his hand away from my arm, and his eyes flashed up to Archie, who was now standing behind my chair.

Go ahead, he urged amusedly, Introduce me.

He had felt no need to keep up the charade, and I felt my mouth twist wryly at his confident ways. "Archie," I greeted him without taking my eyes off Beau's face. I drank in what I could of him, burying it inside to keep with me while I was gone. That same inexplicable anxiety rose up inside me again, when I imagined leaving him, being away from him.

"Edythe." He mocked my own tone. He was nearly unbridled with excitement, over meeting his new would-be best friend.

I'm waiting!

"Archie," I relented, "Beau. Beau—Archie."

"Hello, Beau," he greeted him, careful to keep his smile friendly and non-threatening, "It's nice to finally meet you."

I shot him a warning look.

"Um, hey, Archie." Beau looked a little nervous.

"Are you ready?" he asked me, aloud for Beau's benefit.

"Nearly." I answered both questions in one fell swoop, "I'll meet you at the car."

Yeah, yeah, he thought, I'll get out of your hair… Thanks for introducing us, Edy.

He strode away silently, leaving us to our farewell.

Beau gulped. "Should I say 'have fun,' or is that the wrong sentiment?" His face fell, just enough to know he was sad.

Ah, he would miss me, I realized with a note of gladness. Not nearly as much as I would miss him, however.

"'Have fun' works as well as anything," I assured him, grinning. I adore you, beautiful boy. I'll be back soon.

"Have fun, then," he said, still dejected.

"I'll try," I said, thinking of all the things that could wrong in my absence, "And you try to be safe, please."

He sighed. "Safe in Forks—what a challenge." Again with the sarcasm. He really didn't believe just how prone he was to disaster…

I clenched my jaw. "For you it is a challenge. Promise," I begged him.

"I promise to try to be safe." He rolled his eyes, still unconvinced. "I was meaning to deal with the laundry… or is that too hazardous a task? I mean, I could fall in or something."

I narrowed my eyes, trying not to smile. The joke really wasn't funny, so I didn't know why I found myself amused.

"Okay, okay," he relented, so my glare must have been convincing, "I'll do my best."

Satisfied, I stood. He rose immediately thereafter.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said glumly.

I smiled pensively. I knew the time would pass much faster for me. Time meant something different to us immortals, but this was the first time in a long time that it had felt insufferable to me. "It seems like a long time to you, doesn't it?"

He nodded, eyes saddened.

"I'll be there in the morning," I vowed. I gathered my things, walked to his side, and brushed my fingers along the back of his hand, knowing he no longer feared my touch—if he had, in the beginning. I was beginning to suspect he hadn't—if my expectations for the unexpected were accurate.

Then I went to join Archie by the car. He was waiting by the driver's side, hand already held out for the keys.

"You're driving, are you?"

He smirked as I tossed him the key from three yards away, raising a pointer finger. The key ring caught on the digit, spinning out before the keys settled against his palm. "I'm surprised," he said as he ducked inside, "You—opting to drive that old, rusty thing?"

I laughed as I slipped into the passenger seat. "Ah, what I wouldn't do for love."

He grinned at me. "Exactly."

We drove in silence to Beau's house, and Archie parked smoothly along the curb.

I chose my usual avenue of entry through Beau's window. Once I was inside, I employed my superior sense of smell to locate Beau's key. I was expecting to find it somewhere here in his room, but the pants he'd worn yesterday were empty, and the metallic scent of metal was untraceable. I headed out into the hallway and downstairs.

Eventually, I found the key in the laundry room, at the bottom of the laundry pile. It had taken me all of thirty seconds to locate.

Before I headed back outside, I retrieved a piece of paper from the desk in the sitting room. I scrawled two quick words down, hoping it would serve as a reminder of not only my devotion, but also my anxiety in leaving him behind.

I glanced quickly at my scrawled words,

.

Be Safe.

.

and then folded the letter in half.

Archie met me back at the school. I left the driver's side door unlocked, my letter on the seat, and my heart with the boy across campus.

…

A/N: As always, feedback is appreciated! Onwards to the meadow scene… I can't wait!