THE EIGHTEENTH TIME

Edward's right: I don't sleep at all Friday night. I spend Saturday at the library by myself, taking copious notes on my reading for geology.

Around six thirty, I start walking home so I can get ready to go to the party with Chelsea.

I purposely didn't tell Edward this was the plan for tonight - just that I was going out. He seemed weirded out at the bar last time when I wanted to walk home by myself. This might be too much for his sensitive disposition. It's not like I'd lie if he asked me, I just… decided he didn't need to know what I'd be up to tonight. He'd be worried or something, I'm sure of it.

I put on my black spaghetti strap dress - really my only going out dress - and knock on the door to Chelsea's apartment. She opens the door after a moment and greets me with a one armed hug, smelling like too much perfume. Her apartment is just as small as mine, but it feels smaller, if that's even possible. She has more furniture crammed in the space and a full makeup table.

"I want to braid your hair into Dutch pigtails tonight," she announces and points to the stool in front of the makeup table. "Please update me about your Edward," she pleads as she starts finger combing my waves.

"What do you want to know?" I chew my lip.

"Whatever you'll tell me."

I tell her a watered down story of how we dated in high school and how he saw me at the bar when we went out. How shocking it was, because we had a bad break up. I tell her about how his family moved away and we never really found closure. She oohs and ahhs at all the right spots. As I wrap up and tell her we are back together now, she moves to line my top lid and adds mascara to my lashes. Her tits are in my face, what with her low cut summer dress and over the knee boots, she's clearly on the prowl again.

"Did you go out with that guy you met at the Lep?" I inquire politely, looking up at the ceiling so I don't stare at her cleavage.

"Oh my god, no. His hands were clammy on the dance floor and he had B.O."

I've successfully distracted her from the inquiry on Edward and me, though, as she lends me some tinted lip stain to try out.

"Don't take this the wrong way, B, but if I was gay, I'd be all over you tonight." She tugs on one of my braids and giggles.

The frat house is bumping when we walk up, the music shaking pictures on the walls. We have to yell to hear each other.

Chelsea ropes me into beer pong, and we lose epically to two mid frat boys. Then we dance.

I tell four different guys that I'm taken throughout the night. After I finally start to yawn around two AM, I decide to dip. Chelsea's giggling too much and touching the arm of an overly muscular man with bronze skin in a polo shirt and khaki cargo shorts… What year does he think it is? But she nods to me eagerly as I point to the door, so I leave.

The spring air is crisp against my skin and I move to pull my jacket around me as I pass a guy smoking alone on the sidewalk.

"Hey, babe. Can I walk you home?" The stranger abruptly throws his arm around me.

I try to shrug it off politely, but he tightens his hold, one hand gripping my shoulder tightly.

"Well… fine, then." I mutter, annoyed. I'll let him escort me home.

And you know why? Because I know Alice is watching me again. And knowing her, she's probably already called Edward.

And if I know him, which I do, he's going to be pissed.

"I'm Alfred." He introduces himself as we amble awkwardly down the street.

"Chandra," I lie, trying to keep my voice calm.

"What a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He pulls me toward him and I try unsuccessfully to disengage. "I hope you don't mind my question, but are those real?" He gestures with his chin to my chest.

I stiffen and don't answer.

"They're really fucking amazing," he slurs. His voice drops, "Do you like it when people fuck your tits?" His hand moves my jacket from my shoulder first, and then starts to move down, almost grazing my cleavage.

Wow, way to charm a girl.

This time, I'm successful in disengaging from his touch. I duck away from him and twist my body around so I face him. I realize that I don't need to wait for Edward to defend me because the rage in my chest that pulses through my veins tells me that I can and will defend myself.

I pull my arm back, keeping my elbow level, and send it flying. The air suddenly crackles with energy. I don't need to turn my head to know that Edward is here; my skin prickles at his proximity like some weird spidey-sense.

My fist connects with Alfred's nose with a sickening crunch and he stumbles backward. There's a mournful yowl that pierces the air as blood starts flowing down to his chin in a cascade of crimson. A clinking noise as something tumbles from his mouth and bounces on the sidewalk.

Edward glances at me, surprise flashing over his dark features for a moment, before he stalks forward. He's a head taller than Alfred and, as he gets in his face, he drops the human charade. "I could kill you where you stand," he snarls.

Meanwhile, I'm shaking out my fist and trying to push back the tears threatening to spill. I'm not sad per se; the stinging tears are more from the pain that shot up my knuckles to my wrist on impact.

Alfred, on the other hand, is whimpering, tears streaking down his face, blood staining his hand, his shirt. He falls to the wet grass from sheer terror at my supernatural (formerly ex) boyfriend.

I notice a tooth on the sidewalk as I hop from foot to foot to distract myself from the pain.

Edward's still in his face, his voice deadly and cold. "Don't ever fucking touch her - or any person - without their consent, you monstrous piece of shit."

Edward steps back, his muscles rigid, and reaches out to grab my good hand. As he leads me down the street, I take one last glance at Alfred, who has definitely wet his pants.

A/N: My favorite scene in Eclipse is when B defends herself and E backs her up. But I wanted it without the ickiness involving Jake's strange character development and Charlie being okay with his SA (????!!!). I also wanted this B to realize she doesn't need E to a bad ass bitch by her entire self.