A/N: Thanks to Kim, Melinda and Beibs. And you too.

Hoodwinked

Chapter 11

Watching Edward mope is the perfect cure for my hangover. The cheeseburger helped, but it's Edward who's the motivating factor. He's miserable. His disappointment is all but palpable and etched clearly across his face, and he keeps pressing the heel of his palm into his eyes and groaning out loud.

After McDonald's we head back to his and Alice's house. Edward stays sulky, and as I fight to keep my amusement over it from becoming too obvious, Alice notices and gets frustrated.

"Okay, what the hell is going on between you two, now?" she snaps, after observing us from the opposite sofa for several moments. The four of us are watching Netflix; though, only Jas appears to be paying attention.

"I won," is all I say in answer, my grin pulling triumphantly as Alice's eyes spark with realisation. And surprise.

"You're kidding!" she bursts, her eyes darting to Edward as a full smirk pulls on her lips.

"Shut up, midget!" Edward grumbles as she whole-heartedly laughs.

"What's going on?" Jas whispers covertly to Alice.

"That had a bet to have sex the night of the farewell only if Edward stopped calling her snotface," she explains to him before I can interject.

"Alice!" I burst, mortified. "Jesus."

Jas is understandably confused, but doesn't express it—something I'm glad for—as Alice waves her hand dismissively, continuing to smirk at Edward.

"I guess you know him better than I do, Bells," she teases me.

"I'm going in the shower," Edward mutters, yanking himself abruptly to his feet.

"Yeah, I should get going. I still have to study for my History exam," I say, pulling myself off the sofa behind him.

He pauses mid-stride and glances at me over his shoulder. "Come on, I'll walk you."

Grabbing my hand, he pulls me after him, stopping on his front porch. My father's home, so he's wasn't likely to walk me to mine.

"Okay..." he relents with a resigned sigh as he shoves both hands into the pockets of his jeans. "What do you want?"

"Huh?" I reply puzzled.

"For winning," he reminds me. "You said you'd think about it, so what do you want?" He's still sulking, and I can't help it, it's hilarious. "Would you stop it?" he demands, frustrated.

"Not so funny when the shoe's on the other foot, is it?" I say, nudging him teasingly.

He breaks into a begrudgingly smile, but it's only fleeting. "You just caught me off guard. I was worried about your hungover ass."

"Too bad," I say simply as his eyes narrow.

"Do over."

"No."

"Bella—"

"No!" I put my foot down. "Would you give me a do-over?" I cock a brow, and just as he opens his mouth to answer, I pre-empt him. "You would not, so don't bullshit!"

He breaks into a conceding grin. "Midget's right, you really do know me."

"Of course, I do." I fold my arms across my chest, completely satisfied with myself.

He tsks. "You wouldn't have gone through with it anyway," he mumbles, but I refuse to take the bait this time.

"I guess you'll never know now, will you?" I raise my eyebrows high.

"Bella—"

"Let me think about it some more."

"...What?"

"What I want."

"Fine." He's pouting now, and this time I'm struggling to hold back my laughter. "Knock it off," he grumbles even as his lips twitch into a small smile.

"See you later, then." I turn to step down off the porch when he grabs my hand.

"Oi."

"Kiss you?" I co-opt him, and he smirks.

"You're catching on, snotface."

I shove him. "It's not open season now."

"Yeah, it is," he replies, his self-assurance resurfacing.

"No, it isn't."

"Wanna bet?" he arches a brow, and I roll my eyes.

"Fine, have it your way." I turn to leave a second time, when he once more grabs my hand. Successfully taking the hint, I close the distance between us, stretch on my toes and plant my lips gently to his. "Bye."

"Bye," he echoes, reaching out to flick my forehead, and just like that shithead is back.

. . .

The moment I step through the front door my mother rushes toward me, but anticipating her, I cut her off.

"Hand it over," I demand, thrusting out my palm.

"...Hand what over, sweetie."

"Your phone."

"Oh." She cracks a small smile, as I huff.

"You embarrassed me, Mum—so no more. Give it to me!"

"But...I don't mean to embarrass you," she speaks up quietly in her defence.

"Too late." I snatch her phone she reluctantly holds out to me, and opening her contacts I find Edward's number and delete it followed by her messages with him. "You need to stop this, Mum. I'm serious!" I plead with her after handing it back.

"I'm sorry, sweetie," she appeals to me, pretty pitifully, but undeterred I turn my back on her to head to my room and almost run into my father.

His eyes rest on my mother for a pause before he directs them to me. "What's going on?"

"Mum keeps texting my boyfriend!" I state, knowing my father will understand, if only I can keep shithead out of it.

Just as expected, a slight smile tugs on his lips as his gaze rests on my mother. "Renee..."

"I don't mean to embarrass her. I'm just trying to support you." Her pleading eyes meet mine. "I'm sorry, sweetie."

"I don't need any support!" I retort, feeling my frustration once again overrun me.

"For what reason would you need to contact the Newton boy?" My father asks her, confused.

Her eyes meet mine, and I can clearly read her thought process behind them. I only shake my head a little too frantically, but to no avail.

"It's Edward..." My mother outs me, as I groan just barely beneath my breath and drop my head into my hand.

"Edward?" my father echoes, his voice automatically stiffening. "Bella?" he challenges me, turning his scrutinising eyes to mine, as I all but cower beneath them. "That pothead from next door?" His nostrils start flaring, and I know I'm in trouble.

"Dad..."

"No!" He stands firm. "Not happening!"

"Charlie," my mother steps in, putting on her crooning voice. "He's a little reckless, sure, but he's young, and he has a good job," she points out, in an attempt to butter him up.

"You know how many times I've caught that little shit stoned out of his mind?" The question is directed at my mother, and after she shakes her head, he expands on it for my benefit. "The only reason I don't haul him in is because of his mother!"

"Dad..." I attempt to appeal to him a second time, but I have no idea how to continue.

"Go and get him!" he demands, his breath pushing stiffly through his nose.

"N-now?" I stammer.

"Now!" he barks out as I all but jump.

"Snotface..." Edward drawls the moment he opens the door to me. "Can't get enough of me, can you?"

Shaking my head, I only sigh shortly and grab a fistful of his shirt, pulling him out with me.

"What...?" he begins, growing in confusion, when without a word, I lead him toward my house.

"We've been outed and my father wants to speak to you," I inform him.

"Shit!" he bursts coming to a standstill.

I turn back to him; his expression is knotting with concern. "I... I—should I change?"

"Why?" I ask, throwing him a funny look. "We're not going to court—come on."

"Will I need a bullet proof vest?" he adds lightly, and it's obvious he's attempting to mask his uneasiness.

"Do you have one?" I ask, and when his eyes meet mine, I throw him a reassuring smile. "Stop being such a wuss. He's all bark."

"I don't really want to call his bluff," he mumbles.

"Hey, Mr Swan, good to see you again," Edward greets my father in the foyer, thrusting out his hand to him.

Charlie only glances down at it for half a second cynically, before his eyes rise to Edward's and harden.

"Come with me," he says lowly, placing his hand on Edward's shoulder and turning him toward the living room.

I follow a step behind, sighing inwardly.

"Sit," Charlie directs him.

Edward takes a seat on one end of the sofa and I sit on the other. My father remains standing, while Renee hovers close by.

"You smoke pot?" Charlie puts to him, and although he'd given him the courtesy of asking, we both know it's not a question.

"Yes, sir..." Edward answers honestly and somewhat respectfully after a moment's hesitation.

"You don't anymore," Charlie states as a matter of fact.

"I don't anymore," Edward murmurs in reply.

"Have you given my daughter pot?" His gaze turns severe, but Edward doesn't miss a beat.

"No, sir."

"Are you being honest with me?" Charlie attempts to intimidate him, not even minimally convinced.

"I'm not sure you'd believe me either way," Edward points out, albeit tactfully, while I internally cringe and discreetly motion to Renee to come to the rescue.

"Is there a reason I should?" My father's voice turns sharp. "If you do, your life is forfeit. Remember that."

"Yes, sir," Edward dutifully plays along.

"Have you slept with my daughter?" Charlie continues just as the air is sucked from my lungs in pure mortification.

"Dad!" I protest.

"Honey," Renee intervenes, "our daughter is eighteen."

"You were nineteen when she was born," he reminds her, unmoved.

"Dad..."

"Would you like to watch home videos? —you're invited, Edward," Charlie offers seemingly benignly, his gaze resting on Edward as I turn five shades paler.

"Home videos...?" Edward repeats blankly, turning to me.

"My mother's homebirth," I explain in a quiet voice as Edward's eyes widen in horror.

"Oh—no, that's okay, Mr Swan. I'm good—really."

"Honey, there's no need for that," Renee attempts to placate him as both Edward and I sit in agony on the sofa.

"I think she needs a reminder," my father argues.

"She's a virgin, Mr Swan," Edward adds to save his own ass while I only stare at him in disbelief.

"Was that necessary?!" I burst, fighting to keep my voice hushed as my face flashes boldly in equal parts anger and humiliation.

"I'm not watching that shit," he explains his reasoning in a whisper.

I shove him, immediately irritated by such a flimsy excuse. "It's not your business to blurt out, you shithead!"

"Your mother knows," he points out as if it's some kind of justification.

"I told her!"

My father clears his voice sharply effectively cutting off Edward's reply as we both jump.

"That'll be all. Get going, Edward." Charlie jerks his head toward the door, not even bothering to hold off his blatantly satisfied grin.

Without hesitation, Edward pulls himself to his feet.

"See-ya, Mr Swan," he says, without offering his hand this time. Charlie only grunts in reply before Edward turns his attention to my mother. "Bye, Mrs, Swan."

"Good bye, hon," Renee says with a warm smile, clearing her throat in emphasis for me to join him.

With an impatient huff I drag myself after him.

"You're an asshole!" I snap once we're safely outside.

He laughs, grabbing my arms and wrapping them around his waist. "I got us out of it, didn't I?"

"By telling my father something he should never know!" I state the obvious.

"He asked."

"And...? Or should I have told him about you and your boss' daughter?" I sound defensive. And jealous; something Edward doesn't fail to notice.

He smirks. "Snotface... You know you can still outrank her." He deliberately clears his throat suggestively.

"It's never going to happen," I reiterate, pulling my arms from around him. "Go home, shithead asshole."

He groans for my benefit, even as that grin of his remains steadfast across his face. "Did your old man interrogate Newton like that?"

"No."

"Yeah?" He appears pleased by it. "He knows I'm more of a threat to you." He winks.

"God, you're up yourself."

"Don't be angry, snotface." He reaches for my hand but I yank it away.

"Stop calling me snotface. You're not ten years old anymore and you sound like an idiot." I huff, indignant and past patience with him.

He gauges me for a moment as his forehead steadily knots. "He was grilling me," he attempts to justify, but I don't want to hear it.

"Do you realise how embarrassed I am? Or is everything a joke to you?" I'm wearing my heart on my sleeve again and suddenly fighting to hold off the tears.

"Jesus, Bella..." he murmurs, expelling a heavy breath, then grabbing my hand he pulls me into his arms. "I'm sorry. I was freaked over that video and it just came out. I'm an insensitive prick."

"You are," I agree, resting my forehead against his shoulder as I hastily pull myself together. "I'm just...I'm still feeling weird after drinking last night," I attempt to rationalise the fact that I'm falling to pieces. Again.

"Well..." he murmurs against my hair, "since my life is forfeit and everything, you want to go have a joint in the tree house?"

I laugh, I can't help it, and pulling from his arms, I nudge him. "I still have to study," I speak to the grass beneath our feet because I'm back to this again. As soon as he turns on the charm I immediately react, and in the exact way he no doubt intends.

"Okay, but if you change your mind, you know where to find me."

"Sure," I say wryly. I look up just as he hooks his elbow around my neck, pulls me toward him and plants his lips quickly to my temple.

"Get a good sleep, and remember, I'm picking you up tomorrow."

"I haven't forgotten."

. . .

Because of some idiot tripping the fire alarm, my history exam starts thirty minutes late. On top of which, I overslept and left my phone at home this morning. Alice doesn't take History, so I can't get her to contact Edward and let him know.

The exam finishes at 11:25am, and after throwing my note pad and pens roughly in my backpack, I exit the hall and head toward the carpark. I'm in such a hurry, my focus directly ahead of me, that I don't notice the person coming at me from the side; not until they grab my arm and almost cause me to trip over my own feet.

It's Mike.

"It's not bad enough that you slagged around on me," he seethes without letting me go even as I tug futilely against him, "but now your boyfriend is threatening to beat me up. You better make him stop, or I'll—"

"Or you'll what?!" Edward suddenly breaks in, shoving Mike so hard he releases me and almost falls over backwards. "You got a fucking problem, you come to me, and if you ever lay a finger on my girlfriend again, you die. You got that, you pathetic fucking pencil dick?"

"You better watch yourself, Cullen," Mike warns him after righting himself, only to take an immediate step back. "You know, my brother's been waiting to kick your ass."

As expected, Edward laughs.

"Your brother?" he echoes in some kind of irony. "You going to hide behind him, are you? —whatever, he knows where I live. Tell him to come and find me."

"Maybe he will!" Mike arcs back.

"Righto," Edward replies simply, taking a step toward him as Mike all but scrambles away in a desperate effort to maintain the distance between them. "Pussy." He snorts.

"Edward..." I say with a quiet sigh.

He glances down at me, taking my backpack from me and slinging it over his shoulder. "Let's go." Wrapping his arm around my shoulders he turns me in the direction of his car. "I'll see you soon, dickhead," he says to Mike over his shoulder.

"Are you really going to beat him up?" I ask, after he helps me into his monster truck and slides behind the wheel.

"Of course, I am," Edward replies, as if it went without saying, slotting the key into the ignition.

"Why? Just because he broke up with me." I shake my head at a loss to understand.

He snorts, rolls his eyes, and yanks the gear stick into reverse. "And you call me up myself."

"What's that mean?"

"My problem with him started long before you, snotface."

"Snotface!" I repeat, immediately annoyed. "Okay, since I won the bet, you're not allowed to call me snotface."

"What if I do?" He throws me a canny grin and reverses out

"You're not allowed to, that's how it works!"

"Is it?" he cocks that smart ass brow at me, not taking me even minimally serious.

"Don't be a jerk!"

He turns to me, his grin quickly becoming a shrewd. "I'll make you a deal. Give me a do-over and I won't call you snotface."

"No! You weren't supposed to call me snotface in the first place, you idiot!" I practically screech, exasperated.

"Touchy," he teases me, before deliberately clearing his throat. "So, Alice told me you were going to give Newton your virginity after the dance," he says casually, while I almost die.

"What?!" I burst, my voice almost failing. "She told you that?" I'm horrified, and rapidly succumbing to anger. "Oh my god!"

"Yeah, when she was grilling me over hoodwinking you last night. Or you hoodwinking me." He scoffs his laughter through his nose.

"I'm gonna kill her!" I declare, dragging my bag to my lap to rummage for my phone when I realise, again, I don't have it. "Give me your phone."

"No," he says simply, his grin broadening.

"Edward!" I warn him, and of course his laughter only increases.

"Snotface."

"Shithead!" I snap, folding my arms across my chest as I fume to myself. "Is nothing in my life sacred between the two of you?!"

"In her defence, she didn't mean it," Edward admits.

"Like that's the point," I grumble.

"Would you have gone through with it?" he asks after a moment.

"No!" I say sharply, because right now the idea repulses me.

"You know, I wouldn't have even let him inside," he admits, referring to the after party at his house this Saturday.

"Really?" my voice lowers in sudden curiosity.

"Really."

"Why?"

"I told you, my problem with him started months before last week." His voice lowers and almost turns serious.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" I ask after gauging him for a moment.

"His brother..." he flicks on his indicator to turn out of the school, "is who Lauren was screwing around with," he answers, but there's a definite edge to his voice.

"Oh... So, what has it got to do with Mike?"

"That pencil dick thought he'd give me shit over it." The edge in his voice reinforces and his entire expression darkens.

"He's such a fuckwit," I mutter, when I pause and suddenly pull up short. "Wait!"

"...What?" He glances over at me.

"Is that why you agreed to this? To get back at him?" My voice automatically tightens, I can't help it, but Edward only snorts and rolls his eyes again as if it were ridiculous.

"I don't need an excuse to get back at him. I just need to get him alone."

"So... why now?"

"Why now, what?"

"Why are you threatening to beat him up now? You broke up with Lauren ages ago."

"Because you were going out with him, you dope!"

"What?" I say in disbelief, because will I ever work this guy out?

"You think I would have beaten up your boyfriend? I'm not a complete asshole, Bella," he reminds me, putting on the charm again, and surprisingly I don't turn into a basket case.

"I know," I reply. "You're pretty sweet when you want to be," I tease him, as he smirks again. And blushes. I'm positive of it, and even as he clears his throat roughly and angles his head away from me, he can't conceal it.

"What do you want to do?" he asks after a pause. "Want to celebrate?"

"I'll do that tomorrow. I still have my chemistry exam to go."

"Want to go to the beach?"

"It's too hot. I'll fry."

"Hm... we can hang at my place," he suggests. "Hang on, Alice and Jas are there."

"It's okay, we can hang at mine. Dad's at work and Jake's at pre-school until three."

"Where's your mum?"

"Yoga, pottery class—you name it. Monday's her day with her girlfriends."

"'Til three?" he questions.

"Thereabouts. Why?" I'm suddenly suspicious.

He breaks into a broad grin that can't nearly hide his guilt. "Nothing."

"If you molest me, I'm throwing your ass out," I warn him.

"Molest you?" he echoes dubiously. "When have I ever done that?"

"Every day for the last seven days!" I point out.

"And yet here you are still with me." He glances at me and winks before turning onto our street.

I only sigh, but don't reply. He just likes to mess with me, and everything I say can and will be twisted.

Edward parks his truck in the garage of his house before we make our way to mine. It's hot, in the early forties, and after opening the front door, I immediately switch on the air-conditioning from the wall control in the foyer.

"God, I hate summer," I say, tilting my head toward the vent and closing my eyes as the ice-cold air drifts out.

"What have you got to eat?" Edward snaps me out of it, nudging me.

"Go look," I say wryly, and as he disappears into the kitchen, I head to my room and flop down on my bed with a heavy breath. It's been an eventful week.

A minute later Edward returns, a bag of Redskins in hand and two beers.

"They're my dad's," I immediately caution him. "If he finds out—"

"My life will be forfeit?" he finishes for me, his way-too cheeky grin suggesting he's not even remotely concerned about it.

"It's your funeral."

"Since it's already forfeited, shouldn't you grant me one last wish, or something?" he arches a sly brow.

"Not going to happen," I mumble with a small smile behind closed eyes.

He releases an over exaggerated breath and lays beside me, unwrapping a redskin as he does. "Here, pain in the neck." He hands it to me.

I take it from him, biting off half and swirling it in my mouth.

"That's not how you eat Redskins, you weirdo," he teases me.

I elbow him. "It's how I eat them."

"Geez... Get over here." He opens his arm, and propping myself half up I allow him to pull me against him. "Snotface can't be your rule, by the way," he says after a moment of loudly sucking his Redskin.

"Why not?" I turn to gaze at him.

"Because it's too hard for me not to say it. Besides, I already told you, you're always going to be snotface to me." A small smile tugs on his lips even as I huff.

"It's childish," I point out.

"No, it isn't. I'm being affectionate with you, you dope!"

I half laugh sarcastically. "Sure, you are."

"I am," he says simply, half shrugging a shoulder as he resumes slurping over his lolly.

I shudder. "Can you not?"

He smirks and shoves the rest of it in his mouth and tugs on a strand of my hair with the hand his has around my shoulders. "Happy?"

"So, why didn't you tell me about Mike?" I ask after finishing off mine.

"It's not something I like to admit."

"Too proud?" I tease him, and when I turn to him again, he scoffs.

"Something like that."

"Why does his brother want to kick your ass?"

"Because I beat the crap out of him," he answers, grinning fully to himself this time.

"Oh god..."

"He fucked my girlfriend, I had no choice," is his justification as I roll my eyes.

"You could have been the bigger man and told him to enjoy your leftovers," I suggest, as he almost laughs.

"Nah... I have a reputation. I couldn't."

"What reputation?" I ask dubiously. "Getting into fights all the time?"

"Yeah..." He shrugs an inconsequential shoulder.

"Why?"

He's quiet for a moment, and just when I'm sure he's evading the question, he answers, "'Cause...I'm still angry."

I turn to him. "About what?" I ask, dropping the tone of my voice seriously this time.

"My mum," he mumbles, clearing his voice awkwardly. "I miss her, Bella."

I can only gaze at him for a moment, feeling my chest begin to ache from the vulnerability that's so obviously compromising him. When Mrs Cullen died Edward completely withdrew. He showed no other emotion other than anger, and as the years progressed it began to fade, but I'm not sure he ever fully came back.

Until now.

That's when I act, and before I'm even certain of what I'm doing. Pulling myself up by my elbow, I bend down and kiss him. He runs his hand to the back of my neck, but despite the warmth and tenderness of his lips, I still pull back after a few seconds.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, but for his mother or kissing him I'm not quite sure.

Beta Note:

Redskins are raspberry flavored chewy candies. Manufactured by Nestle and sold under their company Allen's brand. Reminds of Laffy Taffy or Air Heads here in the states.

Lyndal's other story, Vertigo, was voted 2nd place in the Twilight Recommendations Completed Fics poll for June. Yay!

A/N: Thanks for reading.