What's this, two updates in one day? Shock, horror!
Well, not technically one day, as it's 2:30 am as I write this, but I haven't been to sleep yet so it feels like one day. If you haven't already, please check out the new chapter of Double or Nothing that went up earlier this afternoon, and if you have stumbled across this story and have no idea what I'm talking about, go read Double or Nothing! It will make this story make a whole lot more sense :P
I've been asked by a few people to write this chapter and I have been working on it for a while - including losing about half of it and having to start from scratch when I moved it off the giant DoN document onto its own file, which I foolishly decided to do on my phone. Not making that mistake again. I do want to continue, I think there's one more chapter in this little saga, but I'm going to leave the story as finished for now, not sure whether I want to work on that now or start my New Moon rewrite first. Any preferences? Let me know in the reviews.
Anyway, enjoy some more Beau/Edythe cuteness!
Glitter x
Chapter 2: The Dance
Beau POV
I fidgeted with my tie for about the fiftieth time since I'd put it on, glancing at the clock as I paced across the living room. 6:53 – only two minutes since the last time I checked. I was well aware that I was being ridiculous, but really, what else could I do? Tonight could well be the most important night of my life.
Okay, that was probably a bit melodramatic.
"Get it together, Swan," I muttered to myself sternly. "Stop acting like a basket case."
"Not sure talking to yourself is the best way to accomplish that, son."
My dad's voice, though not loud, was sudden enough to make me jump and spin to face him where he stood leaning against the wall in the entry to our living room, an amused smile peeking out from under his moustache.
"Right," I huffed, running my fingers through my hair then frantically trying to pat it back down into something resembling tidy.
Charlie chuckled at my antics and crossed the room to put his hands on my shoulders and squeeze. It was something he'd been doing since I was a kid, and though it was a simple gesture, it had a grounding effect and always calmed me down. These days, he had to raise his arms a lot more to reach; my last growth spurt had left me almost as tall as him.
"You look great, kiddo," he assured me. "Very dapper."
"I hope so," I sighed, touching the tie again reflexively.
His smile turned knowing. "This girl must really be something, huh?"
"You have no idea."
Beautiful, stunning, perfect, amazing, terrifying, overwhelming, intimidating… there were so many words that could describe Edythe Cullen, and not one of them alone was enough to do her justice. In the days since her sudden and unexpected invitation to the Spring Dance, I'd been wracking my brains trying to figure out three things.
First, how on earth she even knew who I was.
Second, what could possibly have prompted her to ask me out.
And third, whether this was all just a giant joke.
A part of me was fully expecting seven pm to come and go with no sign of her, to show up at school on Monday to find it was all just a prank she had decided to play on me, probably to teach me a lesson for being so obviously obsessed with her. She would sit in the corner of the cafeteria with her gang of brothers and sisters, and all of them would laugh when I walked in; they'd point and whisper behind their hands, telling each other what an idiot I was for ever actually believing she might like me.
Except… perhaps I was biased, but that didn't seem like the sort of thing Edythe would do. Of course, I didn't know her well at all, yet some instinct told me that she was a fundamentally good person. I knew plenty of people who had asked her out – my friend Tyler, for one, had been bold enough to shoot his shot the first week of school, right after they all arrived – and she'd done nothing more to them than brush them off with a refusal, treat them with bland indifference and seemingly pretend they didn't exist. I couldn't believe she would act so maliciously towards me, just because I stared at her a bit too much.
Still, I couldn't help worrying.
"Well," Charlie said, bringing my attention back to the present. "I know it's easier said than done, but try to relax and just enjoy yourself tonight, alright? No good comes from stressing yourself out."
I nodded. "I'll try, Dad. Thanks."
He patted my shoulder, which was about as close as my father got to an outpouring of affection, and gently adjusted my tie so it was actually straight. I gave him a grateful half-smile.
Then the doorbell rang, and my anxiety was back full force. My eyes flew to the clock again – 6:57, just appropriately early, the kind of close-to-on-time that a person might arrive if they were trying not to look too eager. My heart was abruptly hammering like it wanted to bust right out of my chest.
Charlie could see the panic building. "I'll get it, you pull yourself together. Deep breaths, Beau."
"Right. Deep breaths. Got it." I inhaled deeply through my nose and released a shaky breath through my mouth.
My dad eyed me warily but vanished down the hall towards the front door. I had to turn away from the entry, the anticipation too much to take, twisting my fingers together in an anxious knot. Trying to take my mind off what was coming, I looked along the row of pictures along the mantelpiece – an unfortunate parade of old school pictures and family snapshots that neither myself nor my sister had ever persuaded Charlie to take down. Focusing in on my parents' one nice wedding portrait at the end of the line, I started cataloguing each little detail I could see, from the flowers in my mother's bouquet to the lights of Vegas in the background. I was halfway through counting the folds in the skirt of Renée's dress when a soft throat clearing behind me got my attention. I turned around and had to exert an awful lot of willpower to keep my jaw from dropping.
Edythe stood at the threshold of the living room, the archway framing her like a work of art. She always looked incredible, of course, but this was on a whole other level. Her long bronze hair was mostly loose, just small sections braided back from her temples and pinned somewhere at the back of her head, the rest hanging in curls past her shoulders. I could tell immediately that she was wearing makeup only because it was something she didn't usually do, so the difference was more obvious. Though the idea of enhancing a face that was already so perfect was mildly laughable; she'd kept it fairly subtle, just a touch of colour on her cheeks and eyelids, a little bit of a dark line around her eyes, and a pretty pink shade painted on her lips. Her dress was pale gold, almost exactly matching the colour of her eyes, with spaghetti straps and a tastefully tight bodice above a skirt made of layers of some kind of gauzy fabric. It reminded me of the costume Bella had worn for her one and only ballet recital, but Edythe pulled it off far better than my sister had. Her legs were exposed from the knee down to the strappy gold heels on her feet; I forced myself not to look at those for long, though I couldn't deny the draw I felt. The cold Forks climate meant I'd never seen so much of her pale skin all at once before, enveloped as she usually was in layers of denim, cotton, and wool. Not to mention the ever-present waterproof jackets.
"Wow," I breathed, then immediately felt my cheeks turn pink at my embarrassingly unrestrained reaction. Might as well go all in, I reasoned. "You look incredible, Edythe."
She smiled widely, her sparkling teeth taking the picture to a new realm of beautiful. "You clean up pretty nicely yourself." She crossed the room to stand about half a foot away from me. "Are you looking forward to tonight?"
"Yeah." Now that she was here, I realised I was actually getting a little excited. But still, I had to be honest with her. "I'm pretty nervous, though."
"Me too," she admitted, breaking eye contact and looking down at her shoes. "I've never done anything like this before."
"Really?" That seemed impossible, even for as young as we were – and she was a year older than me, too. "Haven't you been to a dance before?"
"Not with a date. I've only ever gone in a group with my siblings." Her smile was embarrassed and perfect and heart-stopping. "It doesn't feel quite the same when the only boys you dance with are your brothers."
I huffed a laugh. "Yeah, I guess it would be different."
The conversation ground to an awkward halt, and I searched frantically for something to say to get it started again. Should I ask if she wanted to go? Should I offer to get her a drink, or give her a tour of the house? There wasn't exactly much to see; she'd been through half of it just coming to this room. I had no idea what I was supposed to do, what the right next step was.
As I silently freaked out, her attention was unfortunately drawn to the photos behind me. Her expression turned curious and she stepped around me to pick up my third-grade school picture, the one where I'd gone a bit too long between haircuts, my curls a crazy mess, and both my front teeth were missing after unfortunately falling out within a few days of each other, just a week before picture day.
"This is an interesting look," she commented, her eyes dancing with amusement.
"Oh god, please don't," I begged, cringing. "I keep asking Dad to put these away."
"I think they're cute," she insisted, putting down the picture and moving along the line. "He's obviously proud of you, and he wants to show you off."
I didn't correct her, even though I knew there wasn't really much for Charlie to be proud of. Certainly, there weren't any trophies or medals for him to display along with the photos. I'd never earned anything more than a participant ribbon in my life, and I remained the only kid in Forks Little League history to be asked to leave the baseball team based entirely on skill, not behaviour. The only things I was good at were not the sort of things anyone awarded prizes for – no one particularly celebrated reading or tripping over your own feet.
Edythe was at the other end of the mantel now, and she gently touched the frame on Bella's latest portrait. "Who's this?"
"My sister, Bella," I explained. "She lives with our mom in Arizona."
"Oh yes, I'd heard you had an interesting custody arrangement." There was no judgement in her tone, only curiosity. I was a little thrown by her easy acceptance; even some of my friends still thought it was weird that we'd been split up instead of both living with one parent.
"Are you older or younger than her?" Edythe asked, pulling me out of my abstraction again.
I couldn't help laughing. "Well, I say I'm older, which I technically am, just not by very much. We're twins."
She smiled, then pointed to one of the other early pictures, the one of our whole family right after we were born. "Ah yes, there you are. Oh, weren't you tiny!" She moved back towards me so she could see the photo better, winding up right next to me again. "Your mother is very beautiful."
I nodded. "I've always thought so. Reckon she likes this look a bit better, though." I indicated the portrait I'd been fixated on before; made-up, dressed up bride Renée certainly looked a lot more put together than tired new mother Renée, although her smile was just as bright in both pictures. Looking at the dress and the bunch of flowers clutched in her hand reminded me of something I'd forgotten. "Oh yeah, I have something for you."
Edythe looked startled. "You do?"
"Mhm." I turned and grabbed the corsage I'd picked out from where I'd left it on the TV stand. "Here. I, um… I thought this would look really nice on you." I cringed internally at how awkward I sounded. I knew I was blushing again, probably turning blotchy, and almost immediately started second-guessing myself. Really, what did she need with a little spray of baby's breath and a bundle of pale-yellow carnations attached to a white elastic band? But her eyes lit up and she smiled like I was presenting her with some beautiful piece of jewellery.
"It's wonderful!" she enthused. "Will you help me put it on?"
"Sure." I fumbled the flowers clumsily out of their clear plastic box, somehow managing not to crush them, and slid the band around her offered wrist. I realised too late that I'd never touched her skin before; it was shockingly cold, making me worry that she wasn't dressed warmly enough. After all, March in Forks was like January in most other places. Then again, she'd come from Alaska, so she was probably used to the cold.
All those thoughts were secondary, though, to the spark of pure electricity that ran through me from the point where our hands touched. It was like static, but more lasting, zinging between us like some kind of current. I tried to pull back, unsure what was going on, but she caught my hand and held it firmly; one look in her eyes told me she could feel it too. Her eyes seemed to have their own gravity – once I was looking into them, it felt like it would be impossible to ever look away, and I could have been staring into them for hours, so lost was I in their warm gold depths. It really was the most unusual colour I'd ever seen, slightly darker around the pupil, with little sparkling flecks like actual gold was sprinkled into her irises.
Eventually, she freed me from their magnetism, looking away towards the hallway. I blinked a few times and took a deep breath, feeling like I was coming out of a trance.
"Shall we get going?" she asked, smirking slightly. "I think we've left our fathers alone to talk about us for long enough."
"Your dad's here?" I got nervous all over again; meeting family was a pretty big step for a first date.
"Yes, I decided I wanted a chauffeur for tonight." Her smirk turned into a softer smile. "Don't worry, he's been very firmly warned not to come on too strong. But he is looking forward to meeting you."
Something about the way she looked at me – and the fact that she still hadn't let go of my hand – made me brave. "Alright, let's go."
Hand in hand, we walked up the hallway towards the door. Now that I had gotten over the initial shock of Edythe in my house and was able to focus on the world beyond her, I could hear the low murmur of male voices in the kitchen. When we stopped in the entrance to the room, I saw that Charlie was sat at the table with a cup of coffee in front of him, talking politely to a man with caramel-coloured hair, dressed in a white button up, cream sweater and light grey suit pants. He looked far too young to have teenage children, even adopted ones, and yet the smile he gave us as he noticed our arrival was unmistakably fatherly. Even though I knew he wasn't Edythe's biological father, I couldn't help noticing the similarities between them; he was just as pale as she was, just as stunningly good-looking, and there was something about his eyes... the colour, I realised after a moment, was the same odd gold as Edythe's. Maybe a shade or two darker. Perhaps they were actually related in some way – cousins, maybe, or she might be his niece.
Edythe made introductions. "Earnest, this is Beau. Beau, this is my father, Earnest."
"Nice to meet you, sir," I said, holding out my free hand to shake.
He stood from his chair, took it and shook just once before letting go; just like Edythe, his hands were freezing. The temperature outside must be truly terrible.
As if trying to offset the cold, his smile was warm, as was his voice when he spoke. "It's very nice to know you, Beau. Please, call me Earnest."
"Alright," I agreed easily, unable to resist smiling back. There was something about this man, the openness of his manner and the easy acceptance in his eyes, that instantly put me at ease.
"We're ready to go when you are," Edythe told him and he nodded, heading towards the door at once.
"Hold on," Charlie said, heaving himself out of his seat far less gracefully than Earnest had. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed me a couple of folded bills. "Here. For you tickets."
"Oh, no, Dad, I've got it," I stammered awkwardly.
"I can do this much," he insisted. "I know you're trying to save up, take this and keep your money."
Not wanting to embarrass him in front of the Cullens, I took the cash and tucked it into the inside pocket of my suit jacket. "Thanks, Dad."
"Have a good night," was his gruff response, and I knew him well enough to understand the deep emotion behind the uncomfortable exterior. My father didn't do affection often, and it was never big displays but little things like this – money for something I needed, a ride when I could have walked somewhere, asking after my friends when they hadn't been round in a while. All these small acts let me know how much he loved me, even when he didn't say it.
So I gave him a small, grateful smile and let Edythe lead me out of the house without another word.
Outside, a sleek, shiny black car was parked against the curb at the end of our driveway; I recognised the Mercedes logo on the hood and tried not to let my eyes bug out of my head. I'd known the Cullens were well-off – the silver Volvo and white Impala that the kids drove to school were by far the newest cars in our whole parking lot – but it was still a little intimidating to be faced with it head on. My dad's cruiser looked even more shabby than usual next to this car, and I was suddenly quite glad I'd agreed to let Edythe organise transportation.
Earnest got into the drivers seat while Edythe headed for the back. I jogged ahead of her the last few feet, dropping her hand so I could open the door for her. She looked surprised but pleased, murmuring a quiet, "Thank you," as she climbed in. I shut the door behind her and hurried around the car to take my own seat. Earnest pulled away as soon as we were both buckled in, the low hum of the car's engine barely giving away the fact that we were moving. I expected him to start asking questions or at least strike up a conversation – surely any father would be curious about the boy his daughter was going on a date with, especially if I really was the first – but he just drove quietly towards the school. Perhaps he had simply taken Edythe's warnings about not coming on strong to heart and decided it was better to leave us be completely. But she didn't speak either, and though I scrabbled around in my mind for a good topic of conversation, I couldn't come up with anything. I couldn't even look at her properly; the sky was typically overcast and the sun was going down behind the clouds, filling the car with shadows only lit by too infrequent flashes of light from streetlamps. I soaked up each little glimpse that I got of her, the flash of her hair, the slope of her neck and shoulders, her knowing smile when she finally caught me watching her. I tried not to be embarrassed, but I felt the rush of heat that I knew meant my neck was turning red and blotchy, and just hoped the colour didn't spread to my face.
In no time at all, we were pulling into the school parking lot, which was about two-thirds full of the familiar cars of the juniors and seniors. Earnest joined the short line of cars depositing younger students on the sidewalk nearer the school buildings; Mr Green was there, obviously trying to give some sort of order to the proceedings, but most people seemed to be stopping and getting out pretty much wherever they felt like it.
"Well," Earnest said, finally breaking the silence as he twisted around in his seat, that warm smile still on his face. "Have a wonderful time, both of you. Just give me a call when you want picking up, sweetheart."
He passed back a small gold beaded bag which Edythe had apparently left on the front seat. She took it from him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Earnest. We won't be too late."
"Wait." I stopped her as she moved to get out of the car. "Don't you have a jacket or something? It can get pretty cold here once the sun goes down, and you already feel kind of chilly."
She looked surprised again but recovered quickly, smiling and shaking her head. "No, no jacket. But don't worry, I don't mind the cold. Besides, we'll be inside all night, I'm sure I'll be fine."
"If you're sure…" She nodded again, and I tried to squash my concern. "Well, okay then. Thanks for the ride, Mr Cullen."
"Earnest," he insisted. I wasn't sure, but I thought I saw something like approval in his eyes.
"Earnest," I repeated, then rushed to get out of the car, doing my best not to get hit by anyone passing the outside. I wasn't quite quick enough, and Edythe was already out of her seat and closing her door before I could get it for her. I knew it was a silly thing to want to do, and she'd talked about doing away with the expectations of gender roles, but it just felt right, to treat her like the lady that she was. In my daydreams about taking her on dates, I was always the perfect gentleman, suave and sophisticated and charming. Real Life Me couldn't hope to compare, of course, but I would damn well try. If this was my only chance to spend time with her like this – and that was a very real possibility – I was going to make the best impression I could with the time that I had.
Her beaming smile as I offered my arm and she slipped her hand into the crook of my elbow made me think that maybe, just maybe, it was working.
We joined the other students moving towards the gym. The majority were in couples, but there were a handful of groups, either on double or triple dates, or just friends coming together for a fun night. I spotted my usual gang just ahead of us, or most of them at least; Angela and Logan were missing, the latter grounded and the former just not interested in the occasion. Jeremy noticed me and waved, and McKayla, Tyler and Erica turned to look too, all four of them gawking when they realised who I was walking with. We got a similar reaction from some of the other members of my classes who called out greetings. I tried to wave back nonchalantly and not show how self-conscious I was getting at all the attention, but it was hard when I knew exactly what they were all thinking.
What is she doing with him?
"You're popular," Edythe commented after about the fifth person said hi to me.
I shrugged. "Not really, just well known. Side effect of my dad being what passes for a public figure in a place like this. Plus I've known most of them since we were in diapers."
"How long has your father been the chief of police?" The question was polite, curious without being probing, a perfect first date mood.
"Oh gosh, as long as I can remember." I wracked my brains, trying to recall the progression of Charlie's career. "I know he joined the force pretty much right out of school, just before he met Mom. I was… six or seven, I think, when he got the top job. I remember getting really excited when he showed me his new badge. I asked if I could take it to school for show-and-tell." I knew I was rambling, but focusing on talking helped me ignore the rapidly increasing number of eyes I could feel latching onto us as we entered the gym and joined the line to pay for tickets.
Edythe didn't seem bothered by all the attention; she just used my brief pause to ask another question. "What does your mother do?"
"She's a teacher. Kindergarten mainly, but she's done first and second grade over the years too. How about you? Your mom's a doctor, right?"
"That's right." She looked pleased that I knew this, although it wasn't exactly an achievement. In a town this small, information spread like wildfire, especially when it concerned new arrivals. "We moved here so she could take a job at the hospital."
"What field is she in?"
"General surgery, but she does a bit of everything, especially in a small hospital like this one. Lots of consults and ER shifts. She helped deliver the Marshall's new baby last week."
I remembered Katie talking excitedly about that before English on Monday morning; she'd been more focused on Dr Cullen's looks, but she's had nothing but good things to say.
"That's cool," I enthused. "What about your dad?"
"He's between jobs right now." She didn't sound concerned by this, and I guessed that in spite of the small size of Forks Community Hospital, a doctor's salary was enough to carry even a family as large as theirs for a while. "He's mainly been focused on getting the house up to his standards. He's a bit of an amateur architect."
My eyes widened. "He built your house?"
She giggled. "No, no, it was just a renovation. But he's quite particular when it comes to our living space, he likes everything just so."
We were at the front of the queue now, and I stepped up quickly to pay. The bills Charlie had given me were exactly enough for the two of us, making me think he'd made a point of finding out how much the tickets cost. Either that, or the price hadn't changed since he was at Forks High.
"I could have paid for mine," Edythe said as we moved away from the table, not an accusation, just a statement of fact. "You should have kept the extra for your saving."
I frowned. "Dad gave it to me for this, though. I'd feel dishonest taking it for something else. Besides, I don't mind."
She hummed, but didn't comment further. When I glanced down at her, she was looking at me with a strange intensity, like she was trying to see into my mind. Or my soul.
The scrutiny made me a bit uncomfortable, so I distracted myself with looking around the room. It was my first high school dance, but it didn't seem to be much different from the handful of elementary and middle school affairs my friends had dragged me to in previous years. There was no theme to the decorations, just a lot of paper streamers and balloons. Small tables and metal folding chairs were set up around the edge of the room for people to sit at, and there was a long trestle table of refreshments off to one side. The centre of the room was the designated dancefloor, music playing through a decidedly vintage sound system against the far wall while a handful of couples were dancing. You could tell the different classes pretty easily, even without height differences being taken into account; the freshmen were nervous but eager, the sophomores awkward, the juniors acting too cool for school and the seniors actually having fun, clearly not caring what anyone thought of them anymore. I suddenly wondered if any of her other siblings had come, but I couldn't see them anywhere – they would have been easy to spot, I was sure of that.
"Shall we dance?" Edythe asked, nodding to the dancefloor, then gestured to one of the tables at the edge of the room. "Or would you rather sit and chat some more?"
I very much did not want to dance, but I felt rude and embarrassed to be admitting that right off the bat, so instead I deflected the decision. "I don't mind, really. What do you want to do?"
She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. "I'd like to keep getting to know you a little better. Let's sit, for now."
"Sure," I agreed, relief flowing through me. "Want to get a drink first?"
"Alright."
I led the way to the small table of refreshments, where Mr Banner was manning the punch bowl. He handed us both plastic cups, clearly trying but in no way succeeding to disguise his astonishment at seeing us together. As we moved back through the crowd in search of an empty table, I became even more aware of just how many people were staring at us. Edythe either didn't notice or didn't care, and I did my best to do the same.
She chose a spot in the far corner, tucked away and relatively private, and we sat in adjacent chairs with our backs to the rest of the room, both twisted slightly to face each other.
"So," Edythe began, her expression open and interested. "Tell me about yourself."
I was immediately scrambling for something interesting to say, but came up blank, so once again turned the burden of choice over to her. "Um... what do you want to know?"
She shrugged delicately; the movement looked somehow wrong on her – too casual by far. "Anything. Everything." She gave me a keen, knowing look. "Would it be easier if I asked questions?"
I nodded gratefully. "I think so, yeah. Sorry, I've never done this before."
She giggled; it was a beautiful sound, like a wind chime, and my heart stuttered every time she did it. "That's alright, I don't mind. Well then, let's start with easy ones. How long have you lived in Forks?"
"My whole life. Born and raised local boy, that's me. Except about six months when I was a baby."
I wasn't entirely sure why I'd said the last part, only that there was something about her earnest, curious gaze that made me want to tell her everything.
"Oh?" she prompted gently, and again I found myself spilling the whole story, though I rarely even talked to my closest friends about this.
"Well, when me and my sister were about six months old... that's when our parents split up. My mom went home to her mother's house in California and of course she took us both with her. I lived there with Mom and Gran until they settled the divorce and the custody agreement, then Dad brought me back here." I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "I don't remember it, obviously. But if we're getting technical, I guess I haven't lived here my entire life. What about you? You guys came down from Alaska, right?"
"We did," she agreed. "But we've moved around a lot in the last few years. I'm from Chicago originally."
"That's cool," I enthused. "What's it like there? I've never been that far east."
Her eyes got a little distant. "I'm afraid I don't remember it very well. I left a long time ago and I haven't been back much."
"Oh, right." One of the few facts I knew about this mysterious girl popped back into my head. "You're adopted, aren't you? I'm sorry."
She smiled slightly. "No need to apologise. It's not exactly a secret."
"Do you mind me asking what happened to your parents? Your birth parents, I mean?"
"They died." Her answer was matter of fact, almost emotionless. "Edward and I were both very young when it happened, neither of us remember them well. You know that he's my biological brother?"
I nodded; though the Cullens pretty much kept to themselves, the basics of who was and wasn't genetically related had managed to filter out into the school's collective knowledge base.
She carried on explaining. "Anyway, after they passed, we bounced around the foster system for a while until Carine and Earnest adopted us."
"How old were you, when you got adopted?"
"About eleven, and my brother was ten."
"Wow, not all that long ago, huh?" I was surprised; with the closeness I'd observed between her and her father in the car, I would have sworn they'd been family for longer than five years. In fact, I'd almost forgotten they weren't blood relatives. My theory about distant relation went out the window – surely she would have said if that was the case.
Edythe's smile widened, and there was an unmistakably affectionate look in her eye as she spoke of her new parents. "Oh, it feels like so much longer. They're very good people, and they've done so much to care for us. I truly don't know where we'd be without them."
"And your other brother and sisters?" I asked, before realising how nosy I was being. "Sorry, I'm prying, aren't I?"
She shook her head, a faintly indulgent edge to her smile. "It's fine, Beau, you're allowed to have questions. I'll tell you if you overstep and I won't be upset, I promise."
She put her hand on mine, seeming almost tentative in the movement. Once again I felt the cold but was more focused on the electric current that sparked between us.
"Rosalie and Jasper were already with them when they took in Edward and I," she went on, answering my question. "Earnest's older sister was their mother, and when they lost both their parents in an accident, he was their nearest living relative. They were eight and he was fairly young at the time, but he felt he couldn't say no. Once we came along, I suppose he and Carine figured if they could manage with four, a few more couldn't hurt, so they adopted Eleanor about three years ago and Alice a year after that."
"You make it sound so easy," I commented. "I'm not saying I know anything about how that whole system works, but it always seemed kind of complicated to me."
"Well, we are fairly lucky," she conceded. "We've none of us had particularly difficult lives, and we've gelled together as a family remarkably well and remarkably quickly."
For some reason, her words made me think of one of the only other things I knew about her family, the thing that had got tongues wagging all over school within days of their arrival – the fact that her siblings, with the exception of Edward, were all coupled off with each other. I'd heard some especially hateful words used to describe her two sisters that were together, and I'd tried to shut that talk down as much as I possibly could. Part of me wanted to ask how that part of their family dynamic had evolved, but it felt like a much bigger question than was appropriate for a first date. So instead I said nothing and we sat in silence for a minute or two. I sipped nervously at my drink, casting around for anything else I could ask her to keep the conversation going.
Edythe finally broke the silence. "Are you ready to take a turn around the dancefloor?"
I really wanted to say yes. There was something very appealing about the idea of holding Edythe close, turning or even just swaying to the music. But there was also a terrifying edge to the picture, an undeniable sense of fear – fear of falling, stepping on her toes, tripping her up, or otherwise making a complete fool of myself in front of this most extraordinary of girls. The fear made me hesitate, and the hesitation made her tilt her head at me curiously.
"What's wrong?" she asked, nothing but kindness in her voice. "Do you want to wait for another song?"
"I... um..." I squeezed my eyes shut, then sighed heavily, my shoulders slumping as I realised I was going to have to admit the truth. "I'm not very good at dancing. I'm sorry."
She was still smiling at me, the care and understanding in her expression making me feel even worse about having to disappoint her. "You apologise a lot, you know. It's really not necessary. I'm sure you aren't that bad."
"I really I am," I insisted miserably. "I've got two left feet and I can't keep my balance at the best of times, if you'd ever been in a gym class with me then you'd know exactly how uncoordinated I am. Actually, I'm really glad you've never seen that, it's truly terrible."
I looked down at the table, unable to meet her eyes anymore. Her hand, which had still been resting on mine, slipped away as she stood from her chair. This was it – I'd finally (inevitably) blown it, and she was off to find someone less hopeless to spend her evening with. I closed my eyes, dropping my head with a sigh.
"Beau."
Slowly, I looked up.
She stood in front of me, barely more than a few inches away, her lips turned up in the sweetest smile and her pale hand outstretched in invitation.
"Do you trust me?" she asked, soft and coaxing, but undercut with something... was it vulnerability I could hear? Was she really just as nervous as me?
I had no reason to trust her. We'd never exchanged a word, or even been within a yard of each other, before she'd caught up to me on my walk home and asked me to go with her to this dance. And yet it was a matter of no more than a second to decide that wherever she wanted to lead me, I would follow her. I found my hand sliding into hers almost without having to think about it, and then she was beaming, the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen in my life.
Edythe began moving through the crowd, pulling me by the hand; I probably looked like an obedient puppy, trailing along behind her, but I didn't care. I was a little surprised when we came to a stop not too far away, nowhere near the dancefloor, but further into the corner, in a secluded pocket of open floor between two tables, almost lost in the shadows cast by the dim lighting.
I had to ask. "What are we doing?"
"I'm going to teach you how to dance," she replied, like it should be obvious. "I thought you might like to stay out of the way for now, but we can take the lesson over there if you want." She gestured to the other dancing couples in the middle of the room.
"Here's good," I assured her hurriedly.
She gave me a knowing smile before her expression shifted to something almost business-like. "Alright. Formal dancing at its core comes down to one simple combination – the box step. Once you've got that nailed down, everything is just variations in steps and speed – and the occasional flourish." She obviously read the terror on my face, because she giggled and added, "We'll save flourishing for another day. For now..." She dropped my hand and took a step back, drawing herself just slightly more upright. "It's very simple, just step, together, four times. Start on your right foot, and go forward, together, left, together, back, together, right, together." She demonstrated each step as she said it, her heels sliding gracefully along the floor. "Now you try."
She'd made it look effortless and I knew my attempt definitely wouldn't match it, but I tried; I had to watch my feet and say the words to myself quietly too. "Forward, together, left, together, back, together, right, together."
"Wonderful, Beau!" Edythe was beaming again, clapping her hands and bouncing on her toes. "Just keep practicing that, ready?"
We started making small squares facing each other, following her count rather than the music. Each time I started to feel silly, she would smile or offer some praise and my heart leaped. I barely noticed anyone else around us; for all I was aware, we were alone in the room. Eventually though, I realised something that brought me to a screeching halt.
"Wait, if we're both going front, left, back, right, won't we go in opposite directions? Or crash, or something?"
She shook her head, laughing softly. "No, no. When we do it together, I have to reverse it. So when you go forward, I go back, you go left, I go right, and so on."
I frowned. "That doesn't feel fair. I can swap it round instead, I don't mind."
"Don't worry, Beau, I've had a lot of practice at this. Haven't you heard that saying about Ginger Rogers? I'm used to going backwards in heels." Edythe winked at me, still grinning. "You lead, I'll follow."
I could feel the panic on my face. "I don't think I know how to do that either. I'm sorry."
"Stop apologising!" She was exasperated now, yet not quite angry, I thought. "Alright, leading lessons later too. Come here." She slid both her hands into mine and pulled me a little closer. "Let's try together. Same pattern, move with me, okay?"
Edythe chanted the steps to the music this time, speeding us up just slightly; eventually she stopped counting altogether, but I found I was able to keep the rhythm in my head, although I was still watching my feet closely. She noticed, of course, and one pale hand pulled free of mine, a single delicate finger pushing on my chin until I was looking in her eyes.
"I'm going to step on your toes," I warned.
"I'll stay out of your way," she teased, retaking my hand. "You won't hurt me, Beau. Now keep your eyes on me."
After a few more squares without incident, I actually started to believe her. Even more surprisingly, I was having fun.
She saw the change in my expression. "See? Not so bad, is it?"
"Not bad at all," I agreed. "Except..."
She stopped our dance, her head tilting curiously. "What?"
"This isn't how they do it in the movies," I pointed out, lifting our hands, still joined across the space between us.
"You're right," she agreed, her tone casual but something intense beginning to burn in her eyes. "I think it's more like..."
She trailed off as she stepped closer to me, reducing that space from half a foot to a fraction of an inch. Drawing my left hand around behind her, she pressed it gently to her upper back, before letting go and resting her hand on my shoulder. Bringing our other hands up from where they hovered awkwardly at our sides, the more familiar dancing stance was complete.
"This," Edythe said, barely more than a whisper of breath. The air blew into my face, bringing with it a smell of lilac and roses that was utterly intoxicating. I blinked a few times, feeling dizzy.
"Yeah," I croaked weakly. "That's better."
Edythe didn't even have to speak this time. A look passed between us, and I knew exactly when she would take that first step backwards, knew exactly how far I needed to go forwards to keep her securely held against my chest, knew exactly the timing of the music to follow with my steps. Our eyes were locked together again, gold to blue, wonder to wonder as we moved smoothly around the little space we had created. When she took her next backwards step and began rotating away from me, I somehow understood what to do without her having to say anything and followed her into the turn with barely a fumble. She built it up slowly, a quarter turn on every back step, then every other step, and then each step, so that the square formation was replaced with a meandering circle and we actually looked like we were dancing. The speed of the music picked up, but we kept our slow, even rhythm, lost in our own little world.
I could have danced with her forever.
Unfortunately, all good things, even the most wonderful, must come to an end. After we'd danced through about four songs, Edythe stopped and lowered her arms. I didn't really want to let her go, but I made myself pull away, even more unwilling to have her be uncomfortable. Seeing my disappointment, she took hold of my hands again, smiling reassuringly.
"Shall we take a break?" she asked, her smile turning playful. "I don't want to tire you out before the night is half over."
"I don't mind," I assured her. "We can keep dancing, or go talk some more. Whatever you want."
Always, forever, in everything, I'm yours to command, I very wisely didn't say out loud. What was it about this girl that had turned me into such a hopeless sap so quickly?
I couldn't find it in me to care when she was smiling at me like that.
"Let's sit," she decided, pulling me back to our table, still thankfully unoccupied. "I have more questions for you anyway."
And she did. Question after question was fired at me, so fast I could barely keep up. I tried to turn a few round on her but didn't manage many; I only learned that her birthday was Valentine's Day, her favourite colour was green, and she'd once gone all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower when she was on vacation in Paris. Meanwhile, she extracted what felt like every insignificant detail of my life – likes, dislikes, movies I'd seen, books I'd read, music I typically listened to, places I'd travelled to and places I wanted to go. She asked me about my parents and my sister, my grandparents, the experiences we'd shared as a family. She wanted to know how I'd met each of my friends, how we spent our time, and what I really thought of all of them. She even insisted on full retellings of every prank we'd ever pulled. Her warm gold eyes seemed to have some sort of magic power to make me tell the truth and go into far more detail than I ever would normally. Whenever I worried that I was boring her, she always seemed to sense it, putting her hand over mine as she asked her next question, and never taking her eyes off me. The scrutiny was a little intense and unnerving – yet I couldn't deny that having her so focused on me was kind of flattering. It made me think that maybe, just maybe, tonight wouldn't be the one-off event I had believed it would be.
The only brief respite came when she asked, almost offhandedly, about how I'd got my name, and I couldn't help cringing.
"You don't like Beau?" She tilted her head curiously.
"No, I prefer Beau. It's just… not my full name," I admitted, fidgeting in my seat. "My mom's dad had just passed away when we were born, so they named me after him as a tribute. It's… not the best name in the world."
"Well, now I have to know," Edythe insisted, leaning in eagerly. "What is 'Beau' short for?"
"Don't laugh," I pleaded, and she nodded quickly, crossing her heart with her finger. "Okay, it's… Beaufort."
The tiniest squeak of a giggle broke free before she stifled it behind her hand. "Sorry, sorry, I said I wouldn't laugh. But I see why you prefer the short version."
I shrugged, smiling weakly. "Well, at least no one really uses it. Just my parents when I'm in trouble or my sister when she's trying to irritate me." I did my best Bella impression, high squeaky voice and all. "'Beaufort Geoffrey, get out of my room!'"
Edythe laughed properly at that, seemingly taking permission from my silliness. "Is she similarly afflicted?"
"Not really. Isabella Marie, much nicer. But she doesn't like her name either, so I like to bug her with it too. You ever do that with your brother?"
"Oh, Edward's the opposite," she said, smirking. "He hates having his name shortened. Eleanor calls him 'Eddie' all the time and he just scowls at her like she's insulted him. I'll have to try throwing his middle names in the mix and see if it has the same effect."
"Can I ask what your full name is?" I ventured tentatively.
"Edythe Anne. And you'd better spell it right." She wagged a warning finger in my face. "E-D-I-T-H is an old lady's name, mine is-"
"E-D-Y-T-H-E, I know." I'd picked up that particular tidbit from Lee Stephens, who'd seen her name on an attendance sheet that Ms Mason had asked him to drop off at the office.
She nodded, looking impressed. "And Anne with an E, if you don't mind."
Then she launched straight into her next question.
The interview – or perhaps interrogation – could well have gone on all night, but eventually the outside world intruded on our little bubble again as someone turned on the main lights and the music stopped playing. A lot of the crowd had already thinned out, but there was a chorus of disappointed groans from the remaining students.
"Alright, alright," Mr Green called over all the noise. "I know, I'm a buzzkill, but the night had to end somewhere. As the old saying goes, you don't have to go home but you can't stay here."
"That doesn't sound like the sort of thing a teacher should be saying to students," Edythe mused. "Especially teenagers."
"Yeah, but how much mischief can we really find in Forks?" I reasoned, standing up and offering my hand.
She smirked as she took it. "Based on what I've heard tonight, I think you could manage plenty. Scarcity breeds ingenuity, apparently."
I could feel a blush coming on, and started rambling in the hope it would go away, or at least she wouldn't notice it. "Do I get to ask questions at any point? Because I'm not going to lie, the amount you now know about me compared to what I know about you feels very unfair."
I expected a playful reply or a laugh; instead, she was looking down at the floor as we walked hand in hand towards the main door. "There's not much about me worth knowing," she said quietly.
"I don't believe that," I disagreed, frowning. "I want to know everything about you, Edythe."
Her head stayed down. "What if... I can't share everything?"
I thought about that for a minute; I wasn't sure what it was, but something in her voice told me this was serious, and I had to get my answer just right.
"I still want to know," I said slowly. "But... I understand. We basically just met, and you don't have to tell me everything right away."
At last, she looked up at me, an odd look in her eyes that was some combination of curiosity, guilt and resignation. "Even though I've made you bare your soul to me, and it is entirely unfair to keep you in the dark?"
"You haven't made me do anything." Even though it absolutely felt like there was some sort of unnatural compulsion effect at play; maybe she'd slipped something in my drink. I shook off the dark thought – she would never – and went on. "Just because I'm the sort of idiot who spills his guts on a first date, doesn't mean you're obligated to do the same."
"You aren't an idiot, Beau." She was frowning now, though I couldn't imagine what had upset her.
"That's open to debate," I told her, forcing a grin and trying to make the whole thing a joke. "My sister, for example, would vehemently disagree with you."
My attempt half-worked; the corner of her mouth turned up just slightly. "I look forward to convincing her otherwise at some point."
"Have to get her up here first," I grumbled. "Bella hates Forks."
"That's a shame. I'm quite enjoying it so far."
I was graced with a proper smile, at last, before she turned away to dial the phone she had somehow extracted from her bag without me noticing. She had a very short conversation with her father, and then there was nothing for us to do but stand on the curb with all the other students that weren't driving themselves, watching as one after another climbed into waiting cars and disappeared into the night.
My eyes were drawn to the white expanse of her shoulders left exposed by her dress. The warmth of the building was rapidly fading, a chill setting in that I knew would only get worse. She didn't make any sign of the cold bothering her, but I knew if I had noticed it then she surely had. After debating with myself for all of two seconds, I quickly shrugged out of my jacket and laid it carefully around her shoulders. She looked up at me, startled.
"I really don't want you getting cold," I explained. "If you got sick, I'd feel responsible."
"But won't you be cold?" Her brow furrowed slightly in concern.
"I don't mind," I assured her. "Us Olympic Peninsula folk are a hardy bunch."
I thumped my chest lightly, which made her burst out laughing. She pulled my jacket around her more securely, and I thought I saw her sniff at the collar, still smiling slightly. Although I was now feeling significantly colder, I wasn't about to take back my silly little gesture when it made her look so happy. Thankfully, only a few more minutes passed before the black Mercedes was pulling up in front of us, and I hadn't done something embarrassing like start shivering. I opened her door for her again – probably the last time I would be able to tonight – and quickly got in on my side.
"Did you have a good night?" Earnest asked casually as he left the school parking lot and started driving back towards my house.
"It was great," I said, trying to sound as enthused as possible.
"Quite wonderful," Edythe agreed.
"I'm very glad to hear it." It was dark in the car, but the light from the dashboard was just enough for me to see the reflection of his eyes in the rear-view mirror and the way they crinkled at the corners as he smiled.
The drive back to my house was just as quiet as the drive to school. This time, though, both Edythe and I spent the whole ride watching each other shamelessly. I was even more annoyed by the darkness as it blocked our view for long stretches – or if they weren't long, they felt it, because even a second that I couldn't see her was a second too much. My mood improved no end when she reached across the seat to hold my hand again; I settled in to enjoy the low charge humming through me at her touch and revel in my snatched glimpses of her face.
Too soon, we were back home. The porch light was on, and I hoped Charlie wasn't waiting up too late; in truth, after my obsessive clock-watching earlier, I'd now lost all track of what time it was. Earnest pulled up to the curb on my side, so that I could get straight out of the car onto the drive.
"Thanks again for driving us, Mr- sorry, Earnest."
"Not a problem, Beau. I hope to see you again soon."
"Sure," I agreed easily. I would have no problem spending more time with this man. "Maybe next time I can meet Dr Cullen too."
"I'm sure Carine would love that."
"Let me walk you up," Edythe offered, unbuckling her seat belt and scooting across the seat towards me, obviously intending to follow me out of the car.
"Okay." Another easy agreement; anything to stretch out our time together by a few more minutes.
I got out of the car, having to let go of her hand in the process but immediately offering mine again to help her out. She took it, that surprised but pleased smile on her face again, and this time she followed it up with a comment. "You've been very gentlemanly tonight."
I shrugged, leading her slowly up the driveway. "It just seems like the right thing to do."
"Does it?"
Should I risk looking like an idiot by telling the truth? Never know if you don't try, I told myself, and went for it. "Yes. You should be treated like a queen, Edythe."
We'd reached my porch by now, the yellow light fully illuminating her and making her gold dress shine. That intense, probing expression was back; she was reading my face carefully. I knew exactly what she would see, and didn't try to hide anything. I'd made my position clear – the ball was in her court now.
"You aren't like anyone I've ever met, Beau Swan," she murmured.
"I could say the same about you, Edythe Cullen."
Sadness crept into her eyes, and I immediately felt the urge to find out what had put it there and get rid of it.
"You barely know me," she whispered. "And yet I can see it on your face… are you really so certain that I'm someone who's worth knowing?"
There was no hesitation in my answer. "Yes. I can't explain it, Edythe, but… I feel like I do know you. Not all the details, not all the kind of stuff you were asking me about tonight. Just… you. The core of who you are. You know, before you showed up tonight, I was a little afraid this was all a prank, and you were going to stand me up." I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my neck and feeling my cheeks turning that horrid blotchy pink colour. "But at the same time, some part of me was sure you weren't that sort of person. And I was right. You did show, and tonight has been one of the best nights of my life."
I had got her smiling again, the sadness gone, at least for now. It had been a beautiful sort of sadness, as everything about her was beautiful; her joy now was dazzling. "Mine too. I hope we can do it again soon. Or perhaps something a little more… private?"
"I'd like that a lot." My smile was much wider than hers, and certainly nowhere near as attractive, but in that moment I simply didn't care. She wanted to go out with me again, and that felt like a minor miracle.
"Well, I suppose I'd better be going," Edythe sighed, looking unhappy again. "We both need our rest. Here, take your jacket." She slid the fabric off her shoulders and handed it back to me. "Goodnight, Beau."
I didn't want to let her go, but of course she was right, so I took the jacket and folded it carefully over my arm, tucking my hands under so I couldn't reach out and grab her to try and keep her here with me. "Goodnight, Edythe. Sleep well."
For some reason the comment made an odd smile dance across her face, but when I blinked it was gone; perhaps I'd only imagined it.
She turned and walked down the porch steps, back towards the car, her hair swinging slightly and catching in the light breeze. As she went, I couldn't help feeling like something was missing, somehow… incomplete. A half-second later, it hit me, and I was wrestling again with the choice – to dare or not to dare?
No reward without risk, I reminded myself, and hurried down the steps after her. "Edythe, wait!"
She turned, about halfway down my drive, a quizzical look on her face. "What is it?"
I was a bundle of nerves as I came to a stop in front of her, and it made my words tumble and trip over each other. "I just… there's something I want to do, but only if you want to, and you don't have to, tonight has already been amazing, but if I can do this then I think it will be perfect, and it will feel like it's really over, you know, like it finished properly…" I trailed off, losing steam.
Edythe looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh and only just succeeding. "What is it that you want to do?"
Here goes nothing. "Can I kiss you?"
She looked startled for a full two seconds, then she was grinning playfully. "Here? In front of my father?"
"Sure," I said, shrugging. "I don't mind if you don't mind."
"I think yours is peeking through the curtains too."
"He knows how stupid I am about you. He watched me pace the living room for twenty minutes before you arrived." Apparently whatever I had that passed for a filter had completely vanished.
She giggled. "Well… if you really don't mind, I suppose I don't either. Yes, you can kiss me."
A thrill of joy swept through me, quickly followed by a rush of nerves. "I've never done this before," I warned her.
"Neither have I." She reached out to curl her hand over mine, still wrapped in the folds of my suit jacket. "Perhaps a kiss on the cheek tonight? And we could practice the other kind next time."
"Okay," I agreed. There's going to be a next time!
Edythe turned her face up and slightly away, giving me a full view of her smooth, white cheek. I leaned in slowly, giving her time to change her mind and very softly touched my lips to her skin, right on the ridge of her cheekbone just below one eye. Her scent filled my head and I wondered idly what perfume she used; it was sweet and floral and spicy all at once, and I felt a little dizzy. As I went to pull back and clear my head, she gently caught hold of my face, keeping me within inches of her.
"My turn?" she breathed, and I nodded, unable to deny her anything in that moment.
She twisted my head just slightly and laid her own soft kiss on my cheek, lower down than I had, dangerously close to the corner of my mouth. Even after wearing my jacket all the way home, she was still shockingly cold, but the shiver that went up my spine at her touch had nothing to do with temperature.
Edythe pulled away and released me, walking backwards towards the car with a soft smile on her face. "Until next time, then."
I was too dumbstruck to speak; I could only wave stupidly as she got in the car and it whisked her away into the night. After a deep breath of the chilled night air, I turned back around and went into my house, leaning against the closed door and trying to absorb the fact that I had actually been on a date with this amazing girl, that everything had gone not just okay, not just even well, but absolutely perfect. I had no idea what tomorrow would hold but there was one thing I was absolutely sure of.
I was well on my way to being in love with Edythe Cullen.