Once again, I apologize for the delay in posting the latest update. Real life has totally kicked my butt. I have been sick, my mother was in the hospital, work's been, well, work, and the official dumping of Mr. Man has finally happened...to my great relief and dispair. I have been left sadly sapped of my creative energies (not to mention the attention span!) So, I take total responsibility for my epic update fail.

I would like to thank everyone who's stuck with my little story, and any new readers that have come on board as well. I would also like to thank everyone who read, reviewed and voted for The Man In Love With You, which was my entry for the All Hallows Eve contest. I really do appreciate the great feedback that I've gotten from that little ditty!

Important Business: Twilight, its characters and its situations do not belong to me. They are the intellectual property of one Stephenie Meyer, whos size 8 pumps I would give my weekly manicures to have filled this past week ;)

Please enjoy chapter 30. I'm quickly running out of Ramones titles...I may need to dust off the old Squeeze cd...or maybe The Clash...what do you think?

Chapter 30: Teenage Lobotomy

He rolled over onto his back, his lids thick and heavy with sleep as he tried to force his eyes open. His tongue felt swollen in his dusty mouth, his throat dry as a desert. He lay there, not moving as he stared blearily into the bleak darkness, disorientation swimming through his fizzy mind. Sitting up slowly, his already pounding head began to feel as though it were going to explode from any sudden movement. Recognition finally dawned on him. He was home, in the cozy bedroom of his youth.

A low groan escaped his lips as he willed himself to sit up on the edge of the bed with slow, deliberate movements, clutching at the bed sheets for balance while the dark room spun around him with every slight move he made. No one to blame but yourself, asshole, he thought as he slowly forced himself to stand up on what felt like rubber legs, shuffling with sloth like hesitantly toward the bathroom.

Edward had ended up getting so wasted with his old friends that he had absolutely no recollection of most of the evening. He had no idea what had happened after they had smoked that second joint. Or had he blacked out after the third brandy? Everything was so fuzzy and muted in his dull brain that he couldn't be sure now. He did remember Marcus reaching behind some bottles that sat behind the bar and bringing out a small baggie of white powder, though. He just couldn't remember if he had joined in on those festivities himself. He ran his hand through his messy hair, now damp with his own sweat. No, there was hardly any doubt about it. He knew he had probably ended up snorting the coke right along with his old cohorts.

Exactly how he had gotten home, or for that matter how he managed to get into bed wearing only his tshirt and boxer briefs, remained a mystery~a mystery that he was sure his mother or Mr. Jenks would no doubt resolve for him as soon as he went downstairs in the morning. And if his mother had been involved, he knew with absolute certainty that he would have much more than a lot of explaining to do for the condition he had been returned home in. It was something that he knew he wouldn't be looking forward to, but right now, his primary concern was getting to the bathroom in the dark on his less than reliable legs without falling over and killing himself, or alerting his mother to the fact that he was indeed awakened from his alcohol and drug induced comatose sleep. Thankful that he hadn't peed himself in front of his friends, he grabbed hold of the bathroom door frame for balance and flipped on the bathroom light, grimacing and shielding his sensitive eyes from the bright and intrusive glow. Finding the toilet, he began to relieve himself with a sigh. He wavered a little bit on his feet as he stood on the cold tile floor, missing the giant target that was the blue toilet bowl several times. He mentally noted to make sure he cleaned it up in the morning himself, so that Jenks wouldn't have to add insult to injury and clean up his shame for him. Then he hoped he would remember to remember.

Satisfied with his now empty bladder, he washed his unexpectedly sticky hands with warm water and soap, catching a glimpse of the mess that he was in the bathroom mirror. His half closed eyes had trouble focusing, but he could see the dark purple crescents that had formed under them. His unshaven face somehow looked dirtier, older than it ever had. And perhaps he looked guiltier as well.

He turned off the hot water and ran the cold, running his wet fingers under the stream until satisfied with the temperature before filling a paper cup and gulping it down greedily, the cool liquid doing little to put out the fire in his parched throat. He refilled the cup and quickly swallowed down more, hoping to quench the burning thirst. After a third cup, and a sick bloated feeling in his empty stomach, Edward splashed the cool water onto his pale, glossy face, wiping the water and grease away with a thick, soft towel. The sweat was gone, but the guilt remained.

He sighed heavily and turned to leave the bathroom, hand sliding up the smooth wall until it found the light switch. He flipped it off and flopped down in his comfortable chair, letting out a deep breath. He sat silently in the dark room, resting his elbows on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. Once more, Edward Cullen had fucked up. In nearly every way imaginable. He couldn't even trust himself to go to a party and not mess that up. What more could he even hope for from himself? Hadn't he gone and messed up the best thing that had ever happened to him?

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, thinking about Bella. She would probably be asleep right now, curled up in her little bed, wearing those worn out Hello Kitty pajama pants that were too long for her. She had probably taken the orange streaks out of her hair by now and replaced them with something more appropriate for Christmas. Red, no doubt. He knew she had to look absolutely gorgeous with her alabaster face framed by bright red, her little silver lip ring glinting as she smiled and tossed her head back while she laughed. Bella's laugh. It was such a turn on to him. Deep and throaty. Sexy as hell. And he'd thrown it, and the beautiful, amazing girl it belonged to, away. All because he couldn't handle the curves that life had pitched at him. He laughed to himself at the irony. The pitcher couldn't handle the curve ball.

A soft rustling of the sheets on his bed drew him from his musings as his eyes grew wide in the darkness.

XxXxXxXxXx

Bella lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The glowing green numbers on her alarm clock blinking at her, making her think of only one thing: Edward Cullen's sparkling emerald eyes. She closed her eyes, wishing the thoughts away, only to see his smiling eyes staring back at her.

She sighed, tossing the covers aside as she sat up and ran her hand through her hair. This was ridiculous. He was gone. And he tossed her aside before he left in such a cruel way, a way she'd never expected. Why was she losing sleep over someone who didn't even want her? Someone who didn't believe in them the way she did? Why waste her time on him?

Because, she answered herself, because, deep in her bruised, crushed heart, she knew. She knew he hadn't meant it. He had been hurt. Angry. Upset. And she hadn't been part of that hurt or anger. She'd done nothing to him. She was the innocent victim in all of this. She had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. She knew that, deep in his own broken and tormented heart, Edward Cullen loved her with as much passion as she loved him with.

She slung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. It was still dark out, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep no matter how hard she tried.

If anything, the party had allowed so many of the feelings she'd pushed aside to bubble up to the surface. First and foremost, there was the whole idea of having to go to the party without her boyfriend…the same boyfriend that everyone at Forks High thought was still her boyfriend, even if she knew otherwise. And being there without him, even without anyone knowing their official status was a sad fact that made both Mike Newton and Jacob Black think she was fair game. When the cat's away and all of that nonsense, she guessed. The whole issue angered her. Angered her at the Mike Newton's of the world and especially angered her at the one and only Edward Cullen, damn him and his adorable crooked smile. And then there was who ever squeezed her ass when she was in the den with the tray of appetizers. That had to have been either Tyler or Erik, and both of them were going to pay dearly for that little transgression come Monday, regardless of who was really to blame. Just because Edward wasn't there, it didn't give them the right to treat her like he didn't exist…even if he didn't for all intents and purposes.

Of course, the simple fact that she was facing the holidays single but pretending she wasn't, was, as much as she loathed to admit it, the thing bothering her the most. Not that she'd ever been one of those girls who always had to have a boyfriend. She wasn't and never would be. But, it still bothered her. Immensely. Here she had thought she'd had a fairly strong and healthy relationship with her beautiful bronze haired boy~until Rosalie felt the need to get her crazy bitch on and ruin her life.

Then again, how healthy could the relationship have been in the first place if he felt the need to pull away from her in his time of need instead of leaning on her for support? Wasn't that what couples did? Didn't they turn to each other in their darkest hours when they needed help? Perhaps the whole thing hadn't been as wonderful as her rose colored glasses and hind sight had told her it had been.

She paced around her small bedroom, knowing that it wasn't indigestion from all of the little puffed pastries she'd swallowed at Jessica's party keeping her up. Rather, it was all of the visions of Edward Cullen that were dancing through her head. Little sugar plum fantasies of him. His wild copper hair glittering under the white Christmas lights. His green eyes glowing like sparkling metallic ornaments on the tree. His crooked smile so much like…like…like the Grinch. Yes, that was it! He was the Grinch. And he stole her Christmas, damn him! She hated the fact that she had let Edward Cullen get so deeply under her skin that he had become like a rash who's itch she just couldn't relieve, regardless of how hard she scratched it.

Stuffing her feet into her well worn leopard print slippers, she quietly padded down the stairs in her too long Hello Kitty pajamas and made her way into the kitchen. The clock on the microwave glowed green. She rolled her eyes. More glowing green. Damn you, Edward Cullen.

As quietly as she could, she set about making herself a cup of cocoa. It wouldn't help her get any sleep, but she knew the warm sweetness would make her feel just a little bit better.

XxXxXxXxXx

Edward wasn't sure how long he'd sat on the edge of his chair staring into the darkness toward his bed before the sheets stirred again. It could have been five minutes. Or five hours. Time had ceased to have any meaning to him.

She rolled over, sitting up on her elbows and blinking into the darkness before flipping on the small light that sat on the bedside table. She blinked at him again in the dim light cast by the little light, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, dark mascara and eye liner smearing underneath them.

"Hey, Eddie," she smiled warmly at him. "What time is it?"

He stared at her, open mouthed and dumbfounded. She was in his bed. Wearing his robe. His Cubbies blue robe.

What had he done?

"I…I don't know," his cracking voice was low.

She rubbed her eyes again and giggled. "Silly. Don't you have an alarm clock? Or does your servant wake you up?"

"My alarm clock is old fashioned. It doesn't light up." Dead. He was dead inside.

"That's so you, Eddie," she shifted and sat up. "Wow, I think I'm still buzzed."

Funny, he felt stone cold sober and wide awake now. What had he done?

He stared at her, mouth still open.

She stared back at him in the muted light and smirked. "Nothing happened, if that's what you're thinking."

"Then…what…how…"

"Your guy, that Jenks guy, came to pick us up," she tossed back the blanket and sat up, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the bed. Edward could see she still had her black tights on and heaved a silent sigh of relief. "You were way out of it Eddie. And Jenks was pissed. I mean, seriously pissed that he had to come and go looking for you. Then he had to carry you out, that's how bad it was, and I think he was worried at that point," she rubbed her eyes again and blinked several times in quick succession, mascara flakes making her eyes sting. "I'll admit that I was scared, Eddie," her voice was low and curiously sincere. "I mean, really scared. You looked dead."

He looked at her. Was she scared he was dead because she worried about him or was she only worried about what the kid she brought to the party overdosing and dying would do to her social standing at school? Odds are if he had ended up dead, she could kiss any future invites to Marcus' parties goodbye.

He swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"

She sighed, pulling the robe tightly around her middle. "Your Jenks came into the house and found me," she continued softly. "He got really pushy, demanding to know where you were. I told him the direction I saw you going with Marcus and the other guys, and the next thing I know, there he is, carrying you out and looking really serious."

"And I was passed out?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Real pale and just…I dunno…it was bad, Eddie. I just grabbed my coat and followed him. I mean, your mom would probably have told my mom if I had stayed, you know? I'd get in trouble."

He stared at her. There it was, the same old Victoria. "Then why are you in my bed?"

"By the time we got home, you were starting to come around a little. You should have been wide awake. The old guy had all the windows in the car wide open. I was freezing," she shuddered at the memory and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "Anyway, I figured maybe I should stick around, you know, because of Alec and stuff. So I asked your mom if it was ok, and she said yes," she leaned forward and looked at him. "She's really pissed at you, by the way."

Edward shrugged. What else could he do? "But that doesn't explain why you're in my robe and in my bed."

"Well, your mom said she would keep the baby in her room and just left. Like, she just walked away while I was talking to her and told the old dude to put you to bed. I mean, that's how I know she was pissed," she shook her head and laughed. "Your mom's never rude and she was like, so rude."

Edward rolled his eyes. His mother's rudeness to her was nothing compared to what awaited both of them in the fast approaching light of day.

"This is a big house," he muttered. "Why didn't you ask Jenks to take you to a room down the hall or something?"

She stared at him for a moment before answering in a low voice. "Because I was scared, Eddie."

"Scared of what," he snorted. "It's just a house."

"I was scared for you. You are my son's father, Eddie. You have no idea what you looked like. What if something happened to you and no one was in here to help? How would I explain it to Alec?"

He swallowed hard and looked down. It was so unlike Victoria to be concerned with anyone but herself and he didn't expect it from her.

"I…I'm sorry I scared you."

"It's ok. Your bed's really comfortable, by the way." And the moment was gone.

"Thanks."

"Anyway, like I said. Nothing happened. You were too wasted. Not that you didn't try though," she looked up at him from under her clumpy eyelashes. It was a look he knew all too well from her.

"W-what do you mean," his eyes widened.

"Well, once the old guy got you in bed and left, I took my skirt and sweater off and put this robe on," she fingered the soft fabric. "I hope you don't mind. I didn't want to go looking in your drawers and the robe was just there on the chair."

He shook his head. "No, it's ok."

"I got into the bed and a few minutes later, you were like, right there. You just wrapped your arms around me and pulled me into you really tight. I tried to get away, but you're pretty strong. Then you started to kiss my neck."

He could feel the color warming up his cheeks. He was wasted and he made out with her. Bile began to rise in his throat.

"But it was only for a couple of minutes, because then you kind of just rolled over onto your back and you must have passed out again," she tried not to sound as disappointed as she had felt at the time.

"I'm sorry, Victoria. I…I didn't know what I was doing. I…I have no memory of it," and he really didn't. There was nothing left of the evening from when he'd blacked out until he'd woken up to pee.

"It's ok, Eddie," she looked down at the floor. "Anyway, when did you learn to speak Italian?"

Edward quirked an eyebrow and looked at her curiously. "Italian? I don't speak Italian," he shook his head.

"Sure you do. You kept calling me beautiful in Italian," she smiled shyly up at him.

"But…I don't know any Italian, Victoria."

"Well…you kept saying 'bella, bella' over and over. That's beautiful in Italian, silly."

He felt the color drain from his face as he sat there, staring at her with widened, horrified eyes but saying nothing, for the lump in his throat was far too big to swallow down this time.

XxXxXxXxXx

"You're up early."

Charlie Swan shuffled on his sock clad feet into the pre-dawn kitchen, commenting to his daughter as she sat with her mug of warm coco, reading a two day old copy of the Seattle Times by the light of a single scented Yankee Candle in a jar, the dark murkiness of the room matching her mood.

"You know, this may not be the big city, but believe it or not, we do have electricity here," he flipped on the overhead florescent light. Both he and his daughter cringed back from the brightness.

"Thanks, Dad," she squinted at him before blowing out the candle. She sniffed in the fragrance. Home for the Holidays had never smelled so true before.

"So," he pulled out a chair and flopped down. "What's bothering you?"

"Bothering me? Why do you think anything's bothering me," she closed the newspaper, folding it up along the already existing creases before tossing it to the side.

"Because it's before dawn and you're up. You've been up for a while, obviously," he motioned toward the mug of coco and the newspaper. "Meanwhile, you were out late last night and now here you are, up before the sun, sitting in the kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate while you read a week old newspaper," he smiled at her. "I'm a cop, I know these things, kiddo."

"Well, if you were as good a cop as you seem to think you are, you would have realized that this newspaper is only two days old, not a week old. Bad observation skills, Officer Swan," she smiled at him.

"That's Chief Swan, missy."

"Why are you up so early? Don't tell me you're going fishing again." Time to switch the line of questioning. The last thing she wanted to do was admit to her father that Edward Cullen had once again reared his untidy bronze head and had taken up occupancy in her thoughts like he always seemed to do.

"Nah. We don't usually fish this close to Christmas," he waved a hand dismissively. "But, the old body is so used to being up at this time that it woke me up anyway," he frowned a little, drawing the ends of his dark moustache down. "I figured I'd get up and make you breakfast to surprise you."

"Yeah," she sipped her coco. "Nothing says wakey wakey eggs and bakey like the sound of a smoke alarm going off."

"Hey," Charlie tried not to look chagrined. "I'll have you know that I've been known to make quite a good breakfast, little lady."

"Oh yeah? For who?"

"Now, that would be telling," he winked at her.

"Ha," she scoffed. "It would be telling nothing because the only person you've ever made breakfast for is yourself."

"That's not true!"

"Ok, then who? Who have you made breakfast for?"

"Well," Charlie scratched his head. "Sometimes when Billy gets here early before we go fishing, I'll make some breakfast for us."

"Dad, no offense, but if you shredded cardboard and put it in a bowl with some sugar and milk, Billy would eat it."

"Nah, doctor made him give up cardboard a few years ago," he smirked at his daughter, quickly ducking the two day old Seattle Times as it flew through the air toward his head.

"You're not funny, Swan," she smiled despite her statement. Charlie Swan always knew just how to make her feel better and forget her problems for a magical moment or two.

"So, do you want to talk about it?"

She sighed. "There's nothing to talk about, really, Dad."

"How was the party? You didn't say much when you got home."

"There wasn't really all that much to tell. I spent most of the night in the kitchen with Mrs. Stanley, helping her. She was pulling these little puffed pastries out of the oven almost as fast as Alice was shoving them into her mouth."

"Little Alice?"

"Your little Alice is a first class pig."

"I never would have guessed," the ends of Charlie's moustache twitched up at the thought.

"Neither would I if I hadn't witnessed it with my own two eyes," she shook her head. "I mean, she ate more than the guys!"

"Did Jake have fun?"

"Jake and I started the evening off with a fight," she scowled at the memory.

"A fight with Jake," Charlie looked surprised. "You guys never fight, Bells."

"Yeah, but he was just being so rude to Alice that I had to say something," she sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

"How could anyone be rude to Alice," he shook his head then smirked. "Did she take his food?"

"No," she shook her head, not seeing the humor in her father's statement. "This was before we even got there. He was just...just rude. Complaining about her driving and stuff."

"Well, she didn't take any crap from him, did she?"

"Nah. Called him a dog," she smiled at the memory.

"Good for her!"

"Turns out he hates Edward, and by extension, all the Cullens."

"He doesn't even know the Cullens."

"Dad, he hates them because Edward and I…" her voice trailed off. There was no reason to finish the sentence. "He hates them because I was dating Edward and he likes me. He likes me like that."

Charlie smiled. "But you…"

"Don't like him the same way he likes me."

"Did you at least clear the air with him?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "He got over me real quick…just about the time Lauren Mallory slipped him her phone number."

Charlie's face broke into a big grin. "Atta boy!"

Bella rolled her eyes.

"So," he tried to compose himself. "Does he still hate the Cullens?"

"I guess not," she shrugged. "He was fine with Alice the rest of the night."

Charlie reached across the table and took her hand in his "Do you hate them?"

"Dad…"

"Bells, listen. What Edward did to you? I couldn't blame you if you hated him…even just a little. No one would."

"Dad…I don't…I can't…I just can't hate him," she sighed, looking down at the table, tracing the sparkling silver threads in the red and green plaid tablecloth with the fingers on her free hand.

"Do you miss him?" Charlie's voice was soft.

"Every moment of every day," she squeezed her eyes shut at the painful thought. "Does that make you disappointed in me?"

He squeezed her hand. "I still miss your mother every minute of every day, Bells."

Bella opened her eyes slowly. In the most recent of weeks, she'd learned so much about her father that she'd never known, paramount of all was how amazing a human being he really was.

"Then why'd you let her go," she exhaled.

"Because I loved her."

"But," she took a deep breath, trying to calm her shaking voice. "But, if you loved her, then how did you~how could you~just let her leave?"

"How did you let Edward leave?"

"He…he had to go."

"So did your mother."

"But…"

"But what? Bells, I loved your mother, but she…," he shook his head. "She was just miserable here. She wanted to be near her folks. She wanted to be in the sun. I couldn't ask her to stay. I loved her too much to ask her to stay."

A tear fell from her eye. "But…it made you so sad for her to leave."

"But it made her happy to go," he shifted in his chair and leaned closer to her, lacing his fingers with hers. "Don't you see? I didn't want her to be so miserable, Bells. I wanted her to be happy. And if leaving me made her happy, then so be it. My joy came from knowing she was happy, and, by extension, knowing that you were too."

"You missed so much with me because she wanted to leave."

"But look at what I'm getting now," he smiled and leaned forward, kissing her on her forehead. "I'm getting the best part now."

"Does it make me a bad person for wishing Edward hadn't gone?"

"No, Bells," he smiled sadly at her. "It just makes you human."

XxXxXxXxXx

He made his way down the narrow staircase that led directly to the kitchen. He wasn't in the mood to wander through the grand majesty of this house while wallowing in his own remorse. He was simply on a quest for something to settle down the uproar that was his sickened stomach.

He'd made out with Victoria…and called her Bella. Surely, there was no more horrific crime against humanity than this.

He ran his hand through his hair, sighing as he shook his head. He was a horrible person, and he didn't deserve Bella or the love that she had so willingly given to him. He was lucky that he'd had her for as long as he had, and he was grateful for their time together. If he lived to be a hundred, he would probably never be that happy again. Nor did he deserve to be, and he had no one to blame for that but himself.

He rounded the corner of the narrow stairwell and saw a dim glow of light coming from the kitchen. He wasn't the only one up at this hour.

Edward stepped into the kitchen with his head down. He knew that, regardless of who it was that was up, he was in deep trouble.

"Edward Anthony Cullen!"

He looked up to see not only his mother, but Jenks and his wife sitting around the breakfast table, the low light of the small, black fixture that hung over the table casting a sepia like luminescence throughout the huge kitchen. A quick glance at the glowing numbers on the microwave told him that it was almost four thirty in the morning. And it was going to be even worse than he had anticipated

"Mom," he mumbled softly as he shuffled toward the table, ready to swallow the last shreds of his pride and beg for forgiveness.

"Sit down, Edward," Esme's voice was shaky and cold.

"Mom, I—"

"Sit down, Edward," Mom was clearly in control.

"Yes, ma'am," he pulled out the chair nearest to him and sat down, still not meeting any of the eyes staring at him. If there was one thing in his life that was unforgivable, it was disappointing his mother. She was the person who had always had the most faith in him. The one person who always, without fail, gave him the benefit of the doubt and supported him with unwavering devotion. And in one short evening, he'd shattered it all, not realizing until now how fragile a thing faith could be.

"Would you like to explain to me exactly what the hell went on tonight?"

"I…I don't know," he whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"I said I don't know," he clasped his hands tightly in his lap and stared down at them, seeing nothing.

"Edward, in light of the condition that Mr. Jenks found you in tonight, I think that I need to advise you that I this may not be the best time for you to decide to start lying to me," her voice was steady as she lifted a mug of coffee to her lips.

He took a deep breath, resigned in the fact that he had to tell her, and tell her everything…everything that he could remember.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"How about at the beginning?"

He looked up slowly, meeting the icy blue stare of his mother and saw the depth of her disappointment in him.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he whispered, his lower lip trembling as he felt on the verge of tears.

"Edward," his stalling was obvious to her. "You are beginning to try my patience."

He took a deep breath and started his story. "Well, I went to that party with Victoria, just like you wanted me to."

"Oh no," she shook a manicured finger in his face. "You do not get to turn this on me, young man! You know the difference between right and wrong, so I'm not going to stand for any of that nonsense."

He nodded feebly. "Yes, ma'am."

"Just so that you are understanding me, mister. Mr. Jenks has told me what he witnessed at that party and how he found you. So don't think that you're going to snow me in any way, because you won't," she fumed. He couldn't remember ever seeing his mother this furious, not even after Whistler. "Now, continue~and without editorializing, please."

"Ok," he let out a shaky breath and continued in a low voice. "It turned out that the party was at Marcus Green's house."

"Marcus Green? You don't mean the same boy that you were friends with at The Latin School, do you," she looked at him, surprised.

"Yep," he nodded slowly. "The same guy. And he's still friends with Benjamin and Peter. They were there too."

"Well, Edward, your little stroke of serendipity, as amazing as it is, is all well and good, but what does it have to do with the state that Jenks found you in," she sipped at her coffee again, waving away the pot when Tanya Jenks offered her more.

"Well, Marcus thought we should all celebrate our little group being all together again," he looked down. "So he led us up to his step father's den."

"And that's the room you found him in, Jenks?"

"Yes, Mrs. Cullen."

"What did you do in that room, Edward," it wasn't a question as much as it was a demand, a demand for an answer he knew he didn't want to give her.

"We talked some, then we had some bourbon."

"Is that all you drank?"

"No, ma'am. I had a couple of beers before that."

"How many drinks did you have altogether, Edward," her blue eyes pierced into him like cold, steel daggers.

"I don't remember, Mom."

"Continue," she looked away from him.

"Then, after we had the drinks, Marcus pulled out some pot."

"So, you're telling me that, on top of the alcohol you consumed~and might I remind you, you are still under age, mister~you smoked marijuana?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is this a habit of yours?"

"No, not at all, Mom."

"Was that the only drug that you took?"

"I…I'm not sure," he twisted his fingers into knots, the pain of his knuckles bending backward doing nothing to distract from the humiliation he now faced. His head pounded a driving rhythm of self hatred.

"Explain." He could tell his mother was now beyond furious with him. If there was one thing she had always stressed to him, it was her hate for drug use. Her voice was still calm and smooth, but the sentences were short and demanding. It wouldn't be long until she announced to the world how disappointed in him she was, and her disappointment was the worst punishment he could possibly imagine.

"I…I remember Marcus had a bag of…stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Yeah…I guess it was coke," he shrugged. "By that time, I was pretty wasted and about all I remember was him taking out the baggie, so I don't know if I did any of that, or if I just took a few hits of the pot."

"That's when you passed out?"

"That's all I remember, so I guess so."

"Are you being honest with me," she reached out and grabbed his jaw in her hand, forcing him to look up at her. She gripped him hard, fingers digging into the meat of his cheeks as she stared at him with her cold rage. "If you are lying about this, so help me, Edward," she seethed at him before yanking her hand away and letting go of him, leaving the red evidence of her anger on his face.

"I'm not lying, Mom," he sighed, feeling on the verge of tears again. "I swear I don't remember anything from that point until I woke up here in my bed."

"He was completely passed out when I found him, Mrs. Cullen," Jenks supported Edward's claim.

"Thank you, Jenks," Esme nodded at him, then sighed, turning to face her son. "You do realize I'm going to have to tell your father. We will have to decide the appropriate punishment for you, Edward. And make no mistake, you will be punished for this little escapade of yours." As much as she hated punishing her beautiful boy, she knew that his conduct was inexcusable, especially now that he was responsible for the beautiful little boy sleeping in his crib in her bedroom. "However, until that time, you are not to leave this house without myself or Mr. Jenks, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," he looked down at his lap again where his fingers twisted nervously.

"I don't think I have to tell you how very disappointed I am in you, Edward," her voice was softer now, the hurt almost palpable in it. "I would never have expected this sort of thing from you," tears shone in her eyes. "You, Edward. My sweet, beautiful baby boy. I'm so disillusioned right now."

He continued to look down, unable to meet her eyes, unable to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Edward," she whispered.

He swallowed again and looked up, tears drifting down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Mom."

XxXxXxXxXx

Poor Edward...can't seem to catch a break, can he?

On an unrelated note, I had a dealing at work with someone named Edward...and I smirked all through our phone conversation...because I had to wonder if he knew about our Edward LOL

I hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. I will try to be a little more prompt with the next update...keep your fingers crossed, since the holidays are bearing down upon us and I have a long weekend away coming up LOL

Thanks again to everyone who's reading this little story. Thank you for sticking with me! If you liked this chapter, or even if you didn't, let me know and hit that little review button down there. And if you really liked it...tell a friend or two to check it out!