Disclaimer: I own this story, a bit of a sunburn, a bigger crush on Chet Faker after seeing him live, and a deep, swoony love for the song referenced below.

I don't own Twilight though.

Twenty-Four

"My heart, my heart, is on fire. And you my love, you are my lighter." – 'My Heart Is On Fire' – Asta

Christmas comes and goes, but the happy buzz of the holiday season remains. The tourists come in droves; for the day, the week, the month. They crowd the beach, the road, the restaurants, and they pack the bar nightly. As locals, we complain, but the town thrives on sale of overpriced swimsuits and sunscreen, so all we can do is sit back and wait for the end of January, when the kids go back to school and the town returns to normal. In an attempt to beat the crowds over New Years, and at the behest of my Mum, who is apparently a little taken with Edward; I decide to take a road trip home. However, not only am I taking Edward - who's pretty keen to see the farm - but the boys have decided to tag along too. All of them.

They arrive just as I finish packing my car, and spill out of Edward's van and onto our driveway like a bunch of excited puppies. Mum's going to have her hands full with this lot.

"Morning." Edward ducks in for a swift kiss. "All packed?" He's chewing on an egg and bacon roll from the takeaway shop up the road, the tomato sauce dripping on his fingers. He swipes his tongue between his thumb and forefinger, licking the skin clean.

I nod, taking the roll from him and stealing a bite before handing it back.

"What's with the pillow?" I ask, watching as Rosie tries to shove another one of her pillows into the back of my car.

She shrugs, blowing a stand of hair off her face, puffing a little. "Hey, should I bring my phone charger? Will there be somewhere to plug it in?"

Emmett snorts, tucking her into his side as he shakes his head. He's got a milkshake in one hand and a roll in the other. No wonder Esme was happy to get them out of the house for a while; feeding the two of them must be costing her a fortune.

"It's Forks, Rose," Emmett says. "Not Antarctica."

Rosie swipes the remains of his milkshake and leaves him with a kiss on the cheek.

"Come on, guys!" yells Riles impatiently from the backseat of Edward's van.

"Alright already!" I slip my sunglasses off my head and onto my nose.

"We'll follow you then?" says Edward, and I nod, leaning in for another kiss, which turns into two and then three. He smiles at me, sparkly eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, and I push him away softly before Riley rips the doors off the van in his excitement.

With the boys all behind in Edward's van, Rosie and I get to spend the ride boy-fart and dick-joke free. She plays a mixed CD she made, and we get to sing along into our invisible microphones without someone telling us to shut up.

About an hour and a half from Clearwater, the scenery I know so well begins to return. The horizon flattens, vast cliff tops and rolling hills giving way to long stretches of flat, yellow-green grassed plains and barren farmland. We drive through a few one-pub-towns with names we can't pronounce, and then it's clear sailing all the way up the highway. The smell of the ocean fades into the distance, replaced with dry grass and the smell of hot bitumen. When the grey-brown bark of the towering gum trees appears, their sky-high leaves shadowing the road below, I know we're getting closer.

Six hours and four toilet breaks later, we roll through the township of Forks – population: three and half thousand, plus two million flies, and about ten thousand head of cattle and sheep. I lead the boys down the main street, and I can see them in the rear view, practically leaning out the window to get a good look.

It's really nothing special: supermarket, bank, a couple of pubs and some specialty stores – but it's still home. There's a strange sense of detachment where I thought the nostalgia would be though, and I put it down to my only being away for a little while, hoping it will return.

Fifteen minutes out of the other side of town, we pull up the long driveway of Mum and Dad's house, the gravel sending a plume of dust swirling around us. There are groans and yawns as everyone clambers out of the cars; stretching, cracking backs and stiff necks.

"Man, this place is huge," says Edward, coming to stand beside me. His posture is a rigid and he suddenly looks a little nervous. I guess that even though technically he's met my parents, this would be considered "bringing him home to meet the 'rents". It's odd to watch Edward squirm a little – and a little entertaining.

"This place is the tits!" yells Jacko, looking pretty impressed at the size of the place. Trust Jacko to be so eloquent.

Mum appears on the front veranda, wiping her hands on a tea towel. "Hey, sweetie!" she says with a hug, whispering a welcome home into my hair.

"And, Edward!" she says excitedly, pulling him into a hug too. "Nice to see you again."

"Hey, Mrs. Swan," he replies quietly, not quite sure what to do with his hands.

She slaps his arm. "Charlie's mum was Mrs. Swan. You just call me Renee."

"You remember everyone." I gesture to the bunch of misfits standing by the van, looking decidedly out of place.

"Hey, guys! Hey, Rosie!"

Jacko is the first to speak, stepping forward and pulling Mum into a hug. "Hey, Renee!"

Edward rolls his eyes at his scruffy-looking friend. "How is it Jacko's smoother than I am with your mum?"

After we lug everything inside, Mum gets everyone set up in the guest rooms, and shows the boys to the fold-out bed in the lounge. Edward stands at the door of my bedroom, while I dump my stuff on the end of the bed and flop face-first into the familiar smelling sheets.

I roll over. "What are you doing?"

He looks around, shifting his bag from one hand to the other as he cranes his neck backwards, out the room, and looks left and right. He looks confused. "Am I sleeping in here with you?"

Shifting aside, I pat the bed in front of me. "I hope so. Cos Jasper snores and Jacko likes to be the little spoon."

"Your dad won't freak out or anything?"

"I'm a little old for him to be freaking out. Plus, Jake used to sleep in my bed and Dad never cared."

"Jake, huh?" he grumbles, taking the length of my bedroom in three long steps and flopping onto the bed beside me. It's rather tight in my king-single, and when Edward lifts my sheets up and starts rubbing them over his chest, and pressing his face into my pillows, I'm almost knocked onto the floor.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Getting my smell all over your sheets so your bed knows who's boss now."

"What?" I laugh, lifting a pillow off his face. "You're a bit wrong, you know that?"

I'm just about to get a kiss, when Mum yells my name. Edward sighs. "Ah well."

"Does Edward want a beer?" she yells, louder this time, like I've gone freaking deaf.

"Do I!?" yells Edward in reply, bouncing off the bed and scampering away.

The boys are already in the kitchen when I get there, sitting around the kitchen table with beers in their hands. Rose even has one too; Mum's even put it in a special stubby holder for her. She gives Edward a big smile and fusses around him, making sure he's not hungry, cold, hot, tired.

"I'll get my own drink, shall I?" I pout, opening the fridge. The shelves are packed with food; salads, deli meat, vegies, eggs, slices – I think Mum's catered for a football team. Which, seeing the way these guys eat, was a good idea.

"Oh my, God!" I pull out a big Tupperware container of homemade sausage rolls. "You never made these when I lived here."

"Well, I made them for you and your friends."

I sneak one out, hoping the table of bloodhounds behind me don't sniff it out, and shove it into my mouth whole.

"There's more in the freezer for you to take home. And some homemade sauce too."

"Fanff ma." I kiss her on the cheek, and she scoffs, brushing the pastry off her cheek and smiling anyway.

Having Edward and the boys in the kitchen is like smooshing together my past and my present. It feels so strange having him there, his long legs stretched out under our kitchen table – but it's nice.

By the time Dad gets home it's early evening, and the boys are half cut and chasing the dogs around the backyard, trying to make them herd up the galahs.

"Evening, all," he says, a beer in hand already. He leans over to kiss me on the forehead, his moustache scratching my skin gently. He gives Edward a special Dad handshake, the kind where he taps Edward's shoulder with his free hand as they clasp hands. I know Edward notices he's the only one who gets the special handshake, because he looks a bit goofy afterwards.

After dinner, Dad breaks out his homebrew, and by the time Mum calls it a night, we're all pissed as ten men. Dad's trying to wrap his head around the fact that the boys willingly surf waves bigger than our house, get pulled over jagged rocks and into swirling rips – and still love it.

"Come on, mate. You gotta be a little crazy to surf a wave that big."

Edward's hair is a mess, and his lips are all pink and his eyes glassy. "Yeah, a little. But it's life."

Dad shakes his head in disbelief. "Well, good luck, son. I think you're bloody mad, the lot of you."

The boys all chuckle. Except Emmett who's fast asleep.

It's taken me a while to understand it; the pull of the ocean, the obsession that is the surf for these guys. But for these boys surfing is life, the rest ... well ... it's just details.

Edward and I are barely under the covers a minute before clothes start flying. I can't stop giggling, and Edward keeps having to tell me to shhhh, but he can barely keep a straight face himself.

"... no ... Ed- ... that's my leg ... a bit to the right ..."

"Oops."

"Maybe if I put my leg ... there? Oh yeah, that's better."

"Ahhh! Too hard, babe. Gentle."

"Sorry."

"There?"

"No ... up a bit ... yeah, there."

"This fucking ... shit ... this fucking bed."

It takes some manoeuvring and quite a few tries to get tab A into slot B, but we get there in the end. Not that it matters anyway. Edward is beyond drunk, and I'm about ready to pass out. He comes in about five minutes, laughing the whole time.

"I'm a dud," he slurs, his face resting on my boob.

I run a hand through his hair. "It's fine. Let's sleep now."

"Tomorrow, I swear. I'll make it up to you."

"Yep. Sleep now."

The next day is New Year's Eve, and there are more than a few bleary eyes in the Swan house. Even Dad looks a little worse for wear.

Unable to stop their body clocks from waking them, the boys are up at first light. Dad looks a little surprised to see them up and about – normally he's the only one up at that time.

"Beer, Charlie?" jokes Riley, his scruffy hair a rats nest on his head.

"That's not funny, son," grumbles Dad., rubbing a hand over his bushy cheek.

Jasper gives up after an hour and goes back to bed, followed pretty closely by Emmett – who I think is less hung-over, and more happy to slide back into the guest bed beside Rosie.

Leaving the boys in Dad's capable hands, I also go back to sleep, happy to have the tiny bed to myself for a while. The house is left at peace with the boys out, and Mum potters around the kitchen quietly, while the rest of us sleep. With my bedroom window open I can smell the dust and the sunlight on the eucalyptus leaves. The cicadas are loud, punctuated only by the warbling of the magpies. It's definitely different from the sounds of the waves.

Edward comes home around lunchtime busting with excitement about "all the cows and how they got to ride the four-wheeler and Jasper almost tipped it but he didn't and it was hilarious, Bella, you should have been there". Yeah, no thanks.

After lunch, looking for some respite from the heat of the afternoon, I take my friends down into the scrub at the back of the property, over the wire fence to the river.

"It's so quiet here," says Rose. The boys all murmur their agreement, and then sully the peace and quiet of the bush with loud yells of 'cooooeeeee'.

Did I mention my friends are idiots?

Approaching the river, my heart leaps into my throat as I hear the familiar voices of the Black boys drifting through the bush. I knew I wouldn't be able to get out of Forks without seeing Jake, I just didn't think it would be so soon. But we're almost at the water's edge, and there's no turning back now. Plus, it's hot as fuck and a dip in the river would be really nice.

Edward and the boys marvel as they watch Jimmy Black swing off the rope swing and out over the river, before letting go and falling into the murky water with a splash.

"Fuck yeah!" says Jasper, looking a little more enthused than he did an hour ago. The guys all murmur their agreement, rubbing their hands together in anticipation.

I introduce James and Jake to the boys, and if it's awkward between Edward and Jake, it doesn't show. Jake looks good; healthy, fit – and he's cut his hair - his once chin-length dark hair is now short and styled His younger brother Jimmy looks like he's grown at least a foot since I saw him. Suddenly, he's this six-foot behemoth with a football player's physique; all wirey-armed and broad-shouldered. He and Jake could be twins if it wasn't for the ten kilos of muscle Jake has on Jimmy from working on the farm every day.

He seems happy too, which in turn makes me happy. Things are a little awkward between us to begin with, but it eases a little as the afternoon wears on. And if I was worried about Jake and Edward not getting along, my fears are assuaged when the two of them get along like a house on fire.

The boys all take turns on the swing, seeing who can be the biggest idiot. Even Rosie gets a go, and Jake is suitably impressed when that crazy bitch pushes off from the highest jump-off point – something even I won't do.

Early evening, Edward and I are drifting in the water, his arms around my waist and his hands in places that make me glad that no one can see beneath the water. Every time I move his hands away, he just slides them right back. Some of the boys are on the bank of the river, looking for yabbies, and some of them are still fucking around in the water.

"What you are guys doing tonight?" asks Jake, floating around on his back.

We shrug, and Emmett suggests not drinking, which is strongly seconded by everyone else.

"There's fireworks at the footy club," suggests Jimmy, and I'm again struck at how much older he looks than his sixteen years.

"Sounds good to me," says Edward, slipping his hands over the back of my bikini bottom once more before swimming away with a little smirk on his face. Sneaky bastard.

That night is pretty low key. Mum cooks a barbeque and invites the Blacks over. By that time, Edward and Jake are thick as thieves, and I'm not sure whether to be happy about that, or disturbed. I go with disturbingly happy.

Dad and the boys all get along well too; I think it makes Dad feel young again having them around. He keeps making crude jokes and while the boys think it's hilarious, it makes me want to vomit in my mouth every time.

Emmett and Rosie are in their own little world for most of the time, a world full of gentle looks and soft smiles. I'm happy for her, and him. It makes me so incredibly happy to see someone I love as much as Rosie happy. But it worries me to think it could all be ripped away from them in a matter of weeks. Emmett is more than smitten with her, and I wonder how he copes being so far away all the time. What will it be like for Rosie when he leaves again? Will she just go back to the way she was? How do you keep something so special alive when the other person is a world away?

I look over at Edward, joking around with Jake and Riley. I guess I'll find out.

The fireworks over the football oval are crappy at best. Little explosions of yellow and red pop overhead, blues and greens and pinks streaking into the sky. Edward's arm, warm and heavy, sits wrapped across my décolletage, my back pressed into his chest. I can feel his voice vibrating through his ribs as he talks, laughing and being silly with his friends while keeping me close. He kisses me at the stroke of midnight, and when he does, I want nothing more than to take him home. But not Forks, not the place I've always thought of as my home, but Clearwater – our home. I want the smell of the salty air and the sound of the crashing waves. I want the sand between my toes and in my hair and the smell of my skin after a day in the ocean.

Edward's arm tightens across my chest like he can sense my mood, and I place a hand atop his forearm, scratching my nails through the short hairs. The feeling abates somewhat as his fingers brush absently over the skin of my shoulder, and I settle into him, chatting quietly to Rosie beside me. I rest my chin on Edward's arm, smiling to myself as I watch my friends talk back and forth.

As Edward moves slightly, and the smell of his peppermint chewy and warm boy skin drifts past my nose, I wonder if maybe home isn't a place. It's cheesy, and something my mum used to say that I never really understood; but home really is where your heart is.

*Christmas - Obviously Xmas is at the same time here, but since it's summer, school is out, so most kids get Dec/Jan off, and the new school year starts at the beginning of Feb. The new year. Which makes more sense than the middle - THERE I SAID IT.

- Tomato Sauce - Just Ketchup. But less sweet maybe? More vinegary. Also called "dead horse". Sauce. Dead horse. Yeah, it's terrible, and only old ppl say it.

- "The tits" - Awesome. Cos tits are awesome.

- Stubby Holder - A little rubber holder that stops your hands getting cold from your can of drink.

- "Half Cut" - tipsy

- Galahs - Native birds. Bright pink with grey wings. They are loud and obnoxious but very pretty.

- Yabbies - Like really tiny lobsters. But they live in rivers. You can eat them too, but I don't. Yuck.

Aw, a bit of sappy stuff at the end there.

Thanks as always to my awesome team. Tiffany, Thimbles and Luvrofink. And to all you lovely readers for reading. I'm still totally awestruck and smitten-kitten with every review.

x Wink