Disclaimer: I own nothing but a broken heart from BD2.

Twenty

With Christmas fast approaching, the town is bursting at the seams. School holidays are looming, the weeks dwindling to just days before the place explodes with tourists. The temperature climbs well into the thirties and stays there. Gone are the cool nights that give reprieve; mid-December bringing balmy nights and sweltering sun, stretches of long, hot days that could send you insane.

Between Edward's surfing and shifts at the store, and my nights at the bar, time alone with him has been few and far between.

But finally, on a Tuesday night, we find a night off together, and Edward decides to take me out.

I'm straightening my hair when Rose pops her head into the bathroom.

"Bow-chicka-wow-wow!" she teases, pinching my butt.

I yelp, swatting at her hand with the red hot tool in my hand. Dodging my snapping straightener, she takes it from me and picks up a section I've missed at the back of my head, sliding it through the plates.

"Where you going?" she asks, concentrating on not burning my dry, sun-bleached ends.

"Edward mentioned something about Six-Mile Beach."

She grins, shaking her head, before getting back to the task at hand.

"What?"

"No, nothing," Rosie answers quietly. "It's just strange seeing him do all this romantic stuff."

The first person I'd bailed up after learning about Edward's pro-surfing history was Rosie. She apologised for not saying anything, telling me that once it got to a certain point she figured it was probably up to Edward to tell me. Needless to say, Jasper got a hiding once Rose and Edward got a hold of him.

"You gunna come down and watch him at the Pro next year?"

I nod, looking in the mirror as I apply a swipe of sticky, pink lip-gloss, frowning at the lurid colour before wiping it off.

Edward spent some time trying to explain the way the ASP ranking system worked. It was all very confusing, with lots of numbers and points. But from what I understand, he's been offered a wildcard position on the World Championship Tour. Normally, having been off the circuit for so long, Edward would have had to re-qualify for a position, but his past history with the tour, and ranking at his time of departure, meant that he was given special circumstance, and awarded a place in the top forty-four – something that was done for only the very best.

What this meant was that next year he would be off, up to the Gold Coast for a comp, and then back closer to home, to Bells Beach, for another. After that, it was on to places like French Polynesia, California, and the south-west coast of France. All in all, ten destinations scattered across the world, spread out over almost ten months. He had yet to give the tour an answer either way, but I had a feeling he was going to take it.

"You think he'll do alright?" I ask, flattening my dress over my hips.

Rose moves to stand in front of me, leaning against the vanity.

"Hard to say. This Wilson kid looks like he's going to be tough. And God knows Emmett will keep Edward on his toes."

"Emmett's his brother, right?"

Rosie nods, and I watch as her expression softens ever so slightly.

"Where is he at the moment?"

Twisting her hair around her hand, Rosie gathers it over one shoulder as she shrugs. "Hawaii, I think."

"And are they competitive, he and Edward?"

Rosie nods emphatically. "Emmett's been trying to keep Edward off his heels since he picked up a board. Everything is competition between those two."

I smirk, something I realize I've been doing more since meeting Edward. "Did they ever compete for your affection?"

Rose snorts. "What is this, fifteenth-century England? No. Plus, Edward's just…" She screws up her face. "He's just Edward – the kid that pushed me off the monkey bars when I was six."

"What?"

"Little turd," says Rose, rubbing her right arm. "I broke my arm and everything."

I gasp and Rosie smiles wryly, handing me a clear gloss for my lips. "He felt so bad, he cried for ages, and then he carried my Power Rangers lunchbox for weeks."

"Aw."

"Yeah, when he's not being a dick, Edward's a good guy – always has been."

I lower my head, unable to stop from smiling. "Yeah, he is."

Rose takes a deep breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't know how to say this without sounding like a bitch, so I'm just going to say it. I love you, Bella, I do. You're a good housemate, a great friend, and you make pretty mean pasta bake. But I swear, if you break Edward's heart, I'll break your nose."

I laugh, despite her words. "I don't think you have anything to worry about. He'll take off next year and I'll be nothing but a distant memory."

Rosie frowns, her blue eyes serious. "Is that what you think is going to happen?"

Trying to play it off, I shrug. I don't want to think about it ten minutes before Edward is due to pick me up. "Hey, can I borrow those little flats with the bow on them? The white ones?"

I try not to squirm under her gaze, fluffing my shiny-sleek straightened hair. When she moves around me to get the shoes, I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Although Edward hasn't given any indication as to what his decision will be regarding the tour, I know in my heart that leaving is the right thing for him. What I won't tell him is that when he leaves, there will be a part of me leaving with him. As hard as I've tried not to fall for him, I have; hard. My days are spent thinking about him, wondering when I'll get to see him. My heart leaps at every text message, every smirk, every mention of his name, and it's getting harder to hide the fact that maybe I don't want to just be 'Bella' to him. But I don't want him to think that he has to stay for me. Jake did it to me; I won't do that to Edward.

Rosie returns with the flats in hand and sits on the edge of the bath as I slip them on. She toys with the ends of her hair, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

"Have you had your hair cut?" I ask, eying her suspiciously.

Rosie nods. "Just a trim."

I lean in close, so close I can see the smattering of light freckles covering her nose. "Did you get your eyebrows waxed too?"

She leans away from me, covering her forehead with the palm of hand. "What? No. I mean, yeah, but ... the other day."

"What's going on? What aren't you telling me? Are you keeping secrets, Rosie Hale?"

Rolling her eyes, and holding her hand to her ear like a phone, she says, "Hello, Pot? This is Kettle."

I slap her hand away from her ear. "Shut up and tell me why you're getting all dolled up. You run away like a little bitch when I try to pluck your eyebrows, then suddenly you're having hot waxed poured on them? Spill it, Rosie."

Rose lets out a sound of disbelief before looking me straight in the eye. "Tell me about you and Edward. Tell me why you're not telling him the truth about how you feel."

Shit.

My mouth closes so quickly my teeth snap loudly. "Touché."

I plop down beside her on the bath, and we sit in silence for a minute or so as Rosie looks at me expectantly.

"Do you think he knows?" I ask quietly.

Rose shakes her head. "Dunno. Maybe. I only know because you and I are so similar. You're acting exactly the way I would if I knew I was setting myself up for heartbreak."

"He's not going to break my heart, Rose."

"I know he won't. You're doing a pretty good job of it on your own."

My shoulders slump as I exhale loudly. "I just want to spend time with him before he goes. I mean, once he's gone, who knows where he'll end up. He could end up in California with some hot American swimsuit model."

Rose snorts. "That doesn't really seem like Edward's style."

"Hot swimsuit models are everyone's style, Ro. Look at Miranda Kerr."

She smiles, nodding in agreement. "She is pretty hot. And Jen Hawkins."

I groan, imagining the six-foot blonde, ex-Miss Universe flirting with Edward. "Stop!"

We giggle for a moment, and I rest my head on her shoulder, the smell of her freshly washed and styled hair a strange comfort.

"Wait a minute!" I screech, holding her hand up in front of me. "Did you get a manicure?!"

As Rosie pulls her hand out of mine, there are three loud knocks at the front door, followed by three rings of the bell. Only Edward would be so obnoxious.

Standing, I fluff my hair one more time and turn back to her. "This isn't over."

When I open the front door, Edward's standing on the front step, his hands in his pockets, looking a little awkward.

"Hey."

He smiles, taking his hand out of his pocket to run it through his hair. "Hey."

"How come you knocked? You always just walk in."

"I know, but it's good date etiquette to knock."

"Date etiquette?"

He shrugs. "There's a book and all."

"Oh. And you read it?" I ask, playing along.

He shakes his head. "Nah, I got the talking books, took some notes."

"Nice. So where are my flowers?"

Edward's mouth falls open, and he looks around for a moment before ripping out a bunch of yellow daises from the garden beside the front door.

"Hey, that's my garden, asshole!" yells Rose from behind me as Edward hands me the bunch of flowers, dirt still hanging from their roots, a few weeds interspersed among the blooms.

"Smooth," pipes up Rose, standing behind me.

"I aim to please," says Edward. "So, ready?"

I nod, feeling a little tongue-tied as I take in his appearance. He's replaced his board shorts with proper casual shorts, made of real cotton material. Over his ever-present thread-bare t-shirt, he's thrown another button-up shirt, leaving it open. The sight of him makes my mouth go dry, and all the thoughts just fly out of my head.

"Bella?"

"What?"

"Where's your bag?" asks Rose, both her and Edward looking at me like I've lost my shit.

"Oh, yep. Gimme a sec."

I leave Edward and Rosie waiting at the front door, high-tailing it into my bedroom. A few minutes later, after rooting around my room for what felt like a millennia, and finally finding my purse lodged between my bed and the wall, I step back out to find Rose and Edward in a quiet, but heated discussion.

They stop abruptly as Edward looks up at me.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing," says Rose with a smile.

"Got it?" asks Edward. His usually light blue eyes are dark, his expression tight.

I lift my purse in the air. "Yep."

I pass Rose, who just smiles as I take Edward's outstretched hand. "Don't wait up," I whisper.

She rolls her eyes, but grins anyway.

Edward is quiet on the drive out of town, and I can almost hear the cogs ticking over in his brain.

"Hey," I say quietly, trying to get his attention. "What's up?"

Taking a deep breath, he shakes his head. "Nah, nothing." He looks over, lifting his glasses off his nose for a moment. "You look pretty. I forgot to say that before."

I don't know why, but I blush. "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself. I like your shirt."

He tugs at the collar a little. "Yeah, well, you liked the other one so much I thought I'd give it another go."

With the windows open the warm afternoon air drifts through the van, sending my hair whipping around my face. The loud whining and vibrations of Edward's car have become so familiar to me, just like the smell of old leather and the 'new car smell' trees he hangs from the rear view mirror.

"So, all those competitions, and all that money, and you still drive this piece of shit," I say over the loud rumble of his engine.

"Hey!" Edward protests, rubbing his hand across the dash. "I love this thing. I bought it with my very own money."

He whispers softly to the car, cooing at it not to listen to me. To be honest, I couldn't imagine him in anything else.

The road begins to quiet as it winds down off the cliff-side, the bitumen soon turning into gravel as we get closer to the water. The sign for Six-Mile Beach appears, and Edward turns off, and after finding somewhere to park, we jump out.

"A picnic?" I ask, pointing to an Esky as he lifts it out of the back of the van.

He nods, tossing a blanket over my arm. "Nothing flash though."

I grin as he offers his arm like a dapper gentleman. "I'm not a flash date anyway."

Leading me over a worn little track in the bushes, Edward takes me up to a set of massive sand dunes, their slopes dotted with grey-green grasses and tiny little white flowers. The beach itself is nothing short of spectacular. Long and perfectly untouched, it stretches as far as I can see before ending at the base of the cliffs. The water is calm, the waves rolling in and out at a lazy pace, the seagulls circling over the water, cawing loudly.

I spread the blanket out as Edward digs into his little cooler.

Sitting beside me, he hands me a little Glad wrapped sandwich, looking sheepish. "It's only Vegemite. Or there's peanut butter if you want that."

The giggle that escapes my lips is girlish and soaked with adoration for this silly, stupid boy. "Vegemite is fine, thanks."

We chat quietly as we eat, scared to raise our voices in such a beautiful, peaceful place. The seagulls hop over as we toss them our scraps, and I file away the fact that Edward doesn't eat his crusts for later use.

"So, what was Rosie saying to you at home that had you looking all pissy?"

Edward produces a punnet of strawberries with a flourish, and I clap my hands, smiling.

"She told me if I break your heart she'll cut my balls off."

He looks like he's telling the truth, but there's also something else there, something hidden under the surface.

"Oh, yeah? She said the same thing to me."

"She said she'd cut your balls off?"

I throw a half-eaten strawberry at him. "She said she'd break my nose."

He laughs, but doesn't say anything else. The words just kind of hang in the air, their implication lost somewhere between us.

He doesn't bring it up again, but neither do I. Instead, as the sun begins to set, he kisses me.

Pulling away a little, he swipes a finger across my lips, taking with it the clear gloss I've applied. Wiping it on his shorts, he returns for another kiss.

"Better," he says. "You tasted weird with all that crap on your lips."

After more kisses, he tucks me against his chest, and we watch the sunlight dip below the horizon; purples and pinks streaking the sky.

"I told my sponsors I'd take that wild card," he says out of the blue.

I nod against the material of his shirt. "I knew you would. That's awesome." I try to put a smile in my voice, but it doesn't work, so instead I just bury myself deeper into his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin against my own. He holds me tighter, and for a moment I pretend that we're not facing the end.

"When do you leave?"

His fingers brush through the ends of my hair. "After Christmas some time."

So soon. Sooner than I'd expected.

"Cool."

"Bailed up" - To bail someone up is to get up in their face. For example, Bella would have bailed up Rosie and asked her why she didn't tell her about Edward.

"Flash" - Used here like you American's would use "Flashy", we're just lazy and loose the Y.

Tiff, Thimbles and Ink are the stuffing in my Christmas stocking.

Some lovely person nominated 'Follow The Sun' for Fic of The Week over at The Lemonade Stand. If you feel that way inclined, you can vote for it over there.

Stick with me, guys. You know I won't hurt you. xx Wink