The moment we've all been waiting for. I've been writing towards this scene for four years (oh god), so I hope it lives up to the hype. Have thoughts? Please share them with me—even the criticisms. I usually aim for Friday evening but tomorrow is my birthday so I'm celebrating (responsibly, by hiking alone) this afternoon so this chapter is a few hours early.

I hung up the phone after saying goodbye to Renee. Our conversation had lightened my mood considerably. Late-night realizations notwithstanding, there was still the question of—how. I knew what I wanted, but how could it be possible?

The only answer was to journal about it. I started a list.

He isn't really a Forks boy. It wouldn't be like tying myself to Charlie, who had never lived anywhere else and never intended to.

I can still go to college. Even if I did want to date Edward, that didn't guarantee it would last until the end of senior year. Something stirred in my memory and I recalled Edward mentioning something about going to college as a break from Forks. I could even go to college with him, I added.

Emotions are important too. I remembered a teacher in Phoenix making the point that logic without emotion was illogical, because humans couldn't be emotionless. Was a practical decision that made me deeply unhappy still the practical decision?

I'm allowed to be happy. I underlined that one twice. I was used to making the decision that made everyone else happy, one that that fulfilled their expectations of me. When had I ever made a decision just for me?

I pushed the list away from me. It might all be moot anyway—he had made the first move to separate us. He was probably bored with me, or maybe resentful that I knew his secrets. He was so extraordinary, and I was so… so ordinary.

But maybe I had imagined his coldness the previous week. Maybe he had just been busy on Saturday, and I had made the rest up in my head, somehow.

At least I could hope. I didn't know what the future held… but I knew what I wanted right at that moment. I decided that, for now, that was good enough.

The weekend sped by in a blur of homework, though Edward was never far from my mind. I thought of him when I saw Esme and Alice from a distance at the farmer's market, as I glanced over the biology textbook, while writing an analysis of the first two chapters of The Great Gatsby. I dreamed of him. That wasn't unusual, but the contents of the dreams were now hazy and pleasant, rather than unsettling. I lingered over them in the mornings, uneager to consider the possibility of rejection.

Monday dawned brighter than usual and I worried, remembering that the Cullens were supposed to avoid sunshine for—some ill-defined reason. I wanted a chance to see him, to measure my reaction to him (and vice versa). By the time I got to school my stomach was clenched into a tight knot of anxiety.

The sight of the silver Volvo in the parking lot did little to assuage my fears.

I barely heard a word of my morning classes. I doodled fretfully instead of taking notes. Part of me was aware that I was making terrible decisions but I couldn't make myself focus. I had to know.

Angela walked me from Spanish to the cafeteria. I tried my best to be sociable, but found the effort hard until I asked her how her weekend had been.

"You know who else just asked me that?" Angela cast a knowing look in my direction.

"I can't guess."

"Edward, of all people. It's funny—I was just thinking of our conversation when I ran into him. I don't think he's ever spoken to me before."

My stomach flipped. How much of her thoughts had he overheard? It couldn't mean anything. Could it? "Well, how was it?"

"The weekend, or Edward?"

"Either. Both."

Her customary smile was a little more mischievous than usual. "My weekend was okay. Edward seems nicer than I thought."

"He's always been nice to me," I mumbled, blushing.

She didn't push the issue and I was grateful. The lunch hour passed in a rush as I tried to decipher the meaning of Edward's casual, likely off-hand question. How was… Angela's weekend? It couldn't be about me.

Could it?

I was no closer to an answer by the time lunch was over. Every step of the walk to Biology filled me with trepidation. I entered the room slowly, eyes locked on our shared seat.

He was already sitting there. As I stepped through the door, he looked up—and smiled.

It felt like I had unlocked the secrets of the universe. My heart fluttered wildly and I could feel myself blushing.

I kept my eyes carefully away from him as I slid into my seat. Maybe he hadn't been smiling at me. How embarrassing would it be to be make an assumption like that and be wrong? Besides, if I met his gaze, I might just miss the seat and tumble directly onto the floor.

"How was your weekend?" he asked. My heart stopped entirely and I peeked over at him.

"Um, it was quiet. How about yours?"

"Momentous," he said, voice filled with quiet laughter. I couldn't imagine why. "Do anything fun?"

It was amazing that even this mundane exchange felt interesting and engaging. "Nothing much. I went to a party."

"How did you like it?"

"I didn't." I felt compelled to answer truthfully, as though his golden eyes on mine were hypnotic. "I'm not… much of a party person."

"Neither am I," he smiled. "I prefer one-on-one conversations."

My mind was completely blank. "I think groups can be nice, sometimes. Just not at… parties."

Mr. Banner held his hands up for attention, and Edward bit back whatever he had been about to say. I felt a pang of regret.

I had hoped that seeing him would give me some sort of clarity. To my dismay, the opposite seemed to be happening. I was so intensely aware of his presence—his casual interest—that I couldn't hear anything that Mr. Banner was saying. I could see Edward's long fingers resting gracefully on the table out of the corner of my eye. I imagined lifting them to my mouth, dropping a kiss against the delicate knuckles—

My heart pounded at the thought, and I shuddered. Where had that come from? He shifted his weight beside me and I quickly pulled my gaze away, mortified. My cheeks must have been as red as tomatoes.

I caught Mr. Banner's skeptical eye and stared forward, trying to look interested in whatever he was droning on about. I had no idea what was under discussion and fervently hoped he wouldn't call on me for any reason. Every thought I had ever had about biology was absent from my head, replaced with the all-consuming knowledge that Edward was sitting a mere foot away from me.

I finally understood what they said about boys and grades.

My grasp on the passage of time was so loose that I was surprised when class ended. Beside me, Edward stretched cautiously, half-glancing in my direction. "Did you find the class interesting?" he asked.

My face heated. "Um, yes," I said. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"What's your next class?" he asked.

"Gym," I said, though my mouth had suddenly gone dry. I couldn't imagine why he was suddenly paying attention to me. Would he change his mind—again—and go back to ignoring me the next day? I hoped not.

"May I walk you there?"

I remembered just in time not to bite down on my lip. "Is… is it on your way?"

"Yes," he said, smoothly. "Of course."

Of course. My heart fluttered, but whether it was from excitement or anxiety was hard to tell. Perhaps they were the same thing. "Okay," I said, shouldering my backpack. "Lead on, Macduff."

Though my attempt at nonchalance made me cringe, he seemed delighted by it. We walked side by side across the school campus toward the gym, and he kept up a stream of casual conversation the entire way. I did make an effort to be a pleasant conversation partner, but no matter how awkward or monosyllabic my answers were, they never seemed to make him hesitate. He was in the middle of teasing my recipe for vegetarian fajitas out of me as we stopped in front of the gym, sounding remarkably interested in the preparation and spice mix for a meal that he could never hope to eat. My heart ached, though I wasn't entirely sure why.

"It sounds delicious," he said finally, as I finished by explaining that you had to grill or sear the tortilla before filling it for best results. "I never had the chance to eat much Mexican food."

"I like it," I said. "It has so much depth of flavor, and it… it's made with so much love." It felt silly to me, but he nodded, looking as though I was making a compelling point.

"I'll have to remember that," he said. Behind us, the last of my classmates hurried through the gym doors. I was almost late. "Looks like I have to let you go now, though."

Going to Gym was the last thing that I wanted to do on a normal day, but I resented it even more than usual. "It was nice to talk to you," I said, feeling tongue-tied. "Thanks for walking me here."

"My pleasure," he said, with a quick flash of white teeth. "Don't get hurt."

I clung to those words like a good luck charm throughout the next hour of volleyball. Around me my teammates set, bumped, and spiked without paying me any attention. After last week's mishap, Coach Clapp had resigned himself to letting me stay out of the action. The other team tried serving to my spot a few times, but the girl in front of me jumped to cover me without even bothering to check whether or not I was going for the ball. Of course I wasn't.

Jennifer stopped me on my way through the locker room after class had wrapped up. "Your face is looking better," she said, touching her own cheekbone just below her eye. "Nurse told you to ice it?"

It was the most attention she had ever paid me, and I wasn't sure how to respond. "Yeah," I finally said. "Guess I should learn how to duck."

"Guess so," she said, and left without further comment. On any other day the exchange would have played in my mind in an anxious loop, but I was still thinking about Edward. His smile—his eyes—his nearness.

I felt like I was walking on air as I exited the locker room, hurrying toward my truck. I was supposed to go to the Newton's shop that afternoon, to do my first shift as a… I wasn't entirely sure what I was, actually. Sales assistant? Cashier? Mr. Newton—Dave, I corrected myself—hadn't really been clear when we had talked about it.

I didn't see the tall figure lounging beside my truck until I had nearly reached my parking spot. The second I did, my heart began to race. Why was he here, of all places?

"How was Gym?" Edward asked me once I was in earshot, one corner of his mouth tugging upward in gentle amusement.

"I thought about your suggestion seriously," I said, holding my hands out. "As you see, I'm not hurt—well, more hurt, anyway."

His smile grew. "I do see that. I'm glad I could be so inspiring."

My stomach fluttered, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. "Where would I be without you?" Well, we both knew the answer to that, so I hurried ahead. "You seem to be in a good mood today."

Edward's expression had slipped for a moment, but it resumed its easy cheerfulness. I had never seen him look so—so bright—before; his smiles were few and far between, and all the more intriguing when they finally appeared. "I am," he said. "I've made up my mind that I'm allowed to try to be happy."

My heart skipped a beat. His words were so similar to my weekend musings. "How are you going to do that?"

He took a step closer—I had to tilt my head to look up at him. His eyes were soft as he gazed down at me, and my heart stopped beating entirely. "I'm going to ask you if you would like to spend more time with me," he said, his voice equally soft.

My heart was thundering and I could feel my cheeks heating up as I stared up into his beautiful face. "I… I think I'd like that," I said, shyly.

His smile turned brilliant, and he reached a hand up to hover beside my face. I remembered the gesture from the previous week and stood very still, wondering what he was doing. Tenderly, he brushed his fingertips along my bruised cheekbone from nose to ear. His touch was cold, but somehow also electrifying. I breathed out a sigh and leaned into his fingers.

We stood like that for a long moment.

I was the first one to pull away, although I regretted it instantly. "I, um, I—"

"Somewhere to be?" he asked gently.

"I don't want to leave," I sighed. "I just—I have to go to work." Daringly, I reached up and laced my fingers through his. The audacity of it nearly took my breath away. "When can I see you?" I hoped it would be soon.

"When do you get off work?" he asked, allowing our hands to drop, still entwined. Somehow the gesture already felt practiced, as though we had done it a thousand times before.

"I don't know." I pinched my lips together, dissatisfied, as I glanced up at him. "Can I call you?" Belatedly, I wondered if vampires had phones. Then I wondered why I would wonder that, given how much the Cullens seemed to be integrated into human society. The thought made me giggle.

Edward looked deep into my eyes, a playful expression on his face. "You'll have to tell me what that was about tonight."

I blushed, and his gaze sharpened for an instant. "It's nothing."

He didn't argue, but his fingers tightened on mine. His skin was still cold, but I was growing used to the temperature. "Give me your phone." I meekly handed it over. With his left hand, he swiftly added his number to my contacts and passed it back. "Call me when you get off—if you want to."

"I do," I breathed, staring into his golden eyes. "I will."

He released my hand slowly. "I'm looking forward to it already," he said with yet another smile.

"Me too." The words were so commonplace, but the feeling behind them was anything but. I was so happy I could hardly speak.

Edward pulled away from me, seeming as reluctant as I was to separate. "Don't get hurt," he murmured, his eyes heart-stoppingly soft. Before I could respond he had turned away, headed across the nearly deserted parking lot to where a small knot of people clustered around his silver Volvo. I stared past him, wondering for a brief moment how they felt about this.

It didn't matter. All that I cared about at that moment was his smile and his hand in mine. The rest was just details.