A/N: Thanks so much for all your wonderful thoughts.

Most characters belong to S. Meyer. The rest belong to me. All mistakes are mine.


Chapter 5 – Before the Ferry


You want another song?
Here, I'll play you a good one
If you just keep me hangin' on this ferry ride

Why won't you look at me?
I wanna know what you see
You shut your eyes, won't let me be
the one you want, the one you need

I'll play another song
But caveat, there's more than that along
Ridin' here and hangin' on this ferry ride

No, don't turn those browns away
I've had enough of fucking gray…
And I know what you and I would make

Fill it in however you want
but let's not leave this ferry just yet

So I'll play another song
and then another one
You want another one, my love?
I'll give you all of the above
If it'll keep us hangin' on this ferry ride

"On the Ferry"
Music and Lyrics by Edward Cullen
Composed 2004
Copyright 2005 for Debut Album: No One But You

OOOOO

'On the ferry…'

Once, those words were more than the title to a Number One hit song. They were a term of endearment when spoken in reference to that night. Edward's and my voices instinctively softened around those three words. We cushioned them with feathery looks and velvety touches. We instilled them with satiny sentimentality, with an idyll generally reserved for epic poetry, fairy tales, and magical panaceas…for promises of forever.

For almost a year and a half, those words were the warm blanket under which we cocooned ourselves, wrapped in one another and in that gauzy outlook on life that only occurs in the metamorphic relationship that marks one's transition from a naïve young adult to a resilient adult. The words were our vows, summarized into the events of one night. To me, they were as close to that other, overtly all-encompassing word as three words could get; a sort of 'I, Bella Swan, will on the ferry you for the rest of my life.'

We were dreamy poets. Wide-eyed babes. In our youthful inexperience, we disregarded the facts that epic poems and fairy tales often have malignant sides, that magical panaceas are frequently false remedies…and that when you begin making promises, it's usually because you already fear something going awry.

In retrospect, a couple of eye-opening events occurred that night, before the ferry ride, which might've provided red flags had we paid attention. But who pays attention while falling in love?

OOOOO

May 2004 – Seattle, Washington

"Thanks to everyone who came out in the rain this weekend to jam with us, and on behalf of Olympia…"

The mic carried my voice across the mobbed venue as I peeked over my shoulder and pointed at my fellow bandmates. This was our cue for Emmett to hit a closing rimshot, for Rose and Alice to slash their fingers across their respective strings…

…and for Edward to close out the night on his acoustic and drive the audience wild with a short yet captivating riff.

"WOO-HOO! GOOD NIGHT, SEATTLE!" I shouted to an answering ruckus of raucous applause.

That weekend's gig was the most significant success yet, considering how the accolades multiplied over the past few months along with our crowds. Small venues sold out. The larger ones warned patrons it was 'Standing Room Only.' Regulars began following our gigs around Seattle's B-grade venues and increasingly requesting autographs. For a college band created for nothing more than kicks and giggles, it was beyond thrilling and unexpectedly extraordinary.

Then again, from the very first days of Edward's introduction into Olympia, it was apparent that we'd stumbled upon a massive talent, or rather that, through whatever serendipity shined overhead, an enormous talent stumbled upon us. Initially, Edward served as backup vocals to my lead vocals, harmonized with me, and sang the music and lyrics that Rose, Alice, and I composed. But, from the very first live performance, Edward's raw talent surpassed anything we were prepared for. Naturally, his role in the band grew.

Nonetheless, there wasn't a moment of jealousy or envy. Edward simply didn't inspire such negativity. Perhaps it was because, in addition to his bewildering talent, Edward Cullen, of the disheveled, shaggy copper-penny hair, of the piercing emerald eyes always concealed behind nearsighted glasses, of the tall, lanky, non-pierced and non-tattooed frame, and of the unstylish outfits, was nice.

Emmett and he became fast buddies, hanging out, watching sports, playing video games, and doing whatever else buddies entailed. Edward's interactions with Rose and Alice were equally easy and laid-back. They joked around. They laughed together.

As for Edward's and my interactions…

Well, they were more complex. From the beginning, a nervous sort of energy hummed between us, like a bee enfolding us within its frenziedly fluttering wings. It was a constant buzz, a hyperawareness, and my skin absolutely prickled with it.

Lest this begin to sound like there was negative energy between us, there wasn't. It was discomfiting. For example, if Edward stood too close, I felt caught in a Peter-Parker-type web. If he spoke within a few feet of me, he might as well have shouted down my eardrum.

His scent wasn't out of the ordinary; from what my nose gathered, it was a basic combination of citrusy soap, minty toothpaste, and an earthy sage that was likely his deodorant. Yet, it might as well have been a sophisticated eau de toilette to my olfactory receptors, its pheromone designed to set my heart stuttering. If his warm breath happened to fan against my skin, a rush of scorching heat blazed across my arms and shoulders.

In short, I began feeling as if I were in constant danger of either combusting or being struck by lightning.

Obviously, this convoluted riot of emotions and sensations was maddening and unsustainable if one wanted to function like an average human daily. I had no idea how to explain it to the rest of the band, or for that matter, whether to even mention it, especially during Edward's probationary period. The last thing I wanted was to sound like I regretted kicking Jacob Black out of Olympia five minutes after he joined in favor of Edward.

Because I didn't regret it. Not in the least. And not merely because Edward Cullen's presence in Olympia was unquestionably the best thing that could've ever happened to the band, including me, as its founder. I simply had no idea how to deal with Edward Cullen's presence in my life.

When he performed…

Well, I'd always loved performing. While growing up, I used to prance around the house, fisting a hairbrush and crooning at the top of my lungs along with Alanis Morissette, Lauryn Hill, and every other female performer on the radio and MTV. I rocked around, stomped my feet, and swayed my hips to an energetic beat I hoped made up for what I inwardly acknowledged as lacking in natural-born talent. From the very first moment of the band's formation, I understood, as did the rest of my bandmates, the import of on-stage performance to a band's popularity. While we were not gifted prodigies, we were dynamically entertaining, and we knew that would be the draw on which we'd base our band's reputation.

Until Edward.

While our performances may have been suitably distracting from what we lacked in talent, Edward's performance was like manna, and his music and voice were the utopian heaven from which that manna rained down. In other words, Edward's on-stage performance was perfection. He was that rare combination gifted to very few every generation. He was the Trifecta of natural-born talent, stage performance, and persona, where no part of the three components was meant to conceal deficiencies. Instead, each heightened the others.

Everyone granted access to listening and watching Edward instantly knew how fortunate they were. As in a modern-day revival, when Edward took the stage, the audience initially watched and listened in a captivated hush; those first seconds were spent in spiritual awakening until the power of what they witnessed caught up to them. In a fervor, they jumped and shouted. When Edward performed, the stage became a transcendental plane. Sharing that stage with him was like a mere mortal allowed to co-exist in a demigod's realm. The rest of the band was exultant, thrilled at having Edward in the band.

Perhaps because of every other baffling sensation he made me feel, it all became too perplexing, too much, and quickly escalated to where the only way I functioned around Edward while not on stage was by stockpiling reserves of self-control. This meant that the only way I dealt with Edward was by not dealing with him unless it was band-related. Other than these forms of interaction, I kept my distance from Edward Cullen.

I didn't pause to examine or explore the root causes of my feelings. There was no point because the pertinent fact was that a tense charge existed between Edward and me. If there was one thing I knew amid everything I didn't know, it was that this charge had the power to destroy not only me but the entire band.

And then came the night of the ferry ride.

OOOOO

After we performed that night, I leaned against a wall with a content smile on my face, waiting to collect the band's payment. Patrons passed by offering me praise and words of appreciation for our performance, which I accepted happily and unabashedly, even if I knew I wasn't the one taking us to another level. All the while, I sang and moved along with the music now streaming from the venue's sound system – my idol, Alanis – and scanned the room.

"I can be an asshole of the grandest kind
I can withhold like it's going out of style
I can be the moodiest baby, and you've never met anyone

As negative as I am sometimes…"

Throughout, that sensory hyperawareness kept tabs, whether I wanted it to or not, of where, more or less in my perimeter, that particular band member loitered. While Rose and Alice mingled around the venue, laughing and accepting accolades – like me, enjoying our increasing popularity – he and Emmett, the two twenty-one-year-olds in the band, were at the bar just to my right. Naturally, I averted my gaze. Still, their shadows in my periphery helped paint a vague though clear enough picture.

They were enjoying their beers, their voices carrying above the bar's din – Emmett's because he was naturally boisterous, and Edward's because…well, as I said, I seemed unnaturally attuned to his frequency. Still, nothing exceptional was shared until a couple more voices – these unfamiliar, high-pitched, and drunkenly giggly – abruptly joined theirs. I stopped singing.

"Hey, you guys were great!"

"Thanks! Glad you enjoyed the show."

"Yeah, thanks."

"You're the drummer, right? Wow, you master those drums!"

"Well, that's the aim! Bada-bing!"

Emmett could be funny when he wanted to be. Still, the laughter that followed surpassed the negligible humor in that statement.

"And you're the vocalist and the guitarist, right?"

"I'm one of them. Bella is our lead vocals, and Rose and Alice also play-"

"Never mind them. It was your voice and performance that almost melted off my…ahem, inhibitions. The things I'd do if you asked me to while singing a few verses in that voice."

This entire speech was delivered in a breathy, Marilyn-Monroe-at-JFK's-birthday sort of voice. Along with her friend's accompanying giggles, the speaker's meaning was as clear as flashing strobe lights. She might as well have stripped right there for all her subtlety.

My eyes rolled. However, this overt offer was followed by a beat of silence that did nothing to put off the pair of unrelenting admirers.

"Say, why don't you guys let us buy you a round of drinks?"

"Yeah. We can talk, get to know each other, and…see where things go from there."

"Well, un-inhibiting voices notwithstanding," Emmett chuckled, then added with evident pride, "you had to notice the talented and gorgeous bassist? That's my girlfriend, and I'm way beyond happy with her. So, no thanks."

Childish sucking of teeth and groans of disappointment followed.

"But my man Ed here, now he's unattached…"

Swiveling sharply to my left, I dodged all view of the bar – peripheral or otherwise – and mentally threatened my ears with Q-tips should they even think of hearing the rest. Still, my nostrils flared with the effort to master any temptation to eavesdrop on Edward's reply. Again, I took up singing Alanis's lyrics, but this time, louder than before.

"I blame everyone else, not my own partaking
My passive aggressiveness can be devastating
I'm terrified and mistrusting, and you've never met anyone
As close to down as I am sometimes…"

Perhaps this bout of madness was why, when a tall frame sauntered my way, I paid it more attention than I otherwise would've. Inwardly, while still singing to myself, I noted that I'd seen him once or twice at other venues.

"What I resist, persists,
And speaks louder than I know
But I resist, you love,
No matter how low or high I go…"

The guy wasn't typically my type – he was overbulked, with shoulder-length blond hair, ripped jeans exposing strong knees, a muscle-defining tee shirt, a lazy grin, and perfectly placed dimples. Still, he had the sort of looks that weren't easily ignored.

He was also the epitome of a guy who knew his draw, pausing in front of me when he caught me staring. I stopped singing as he towered over my five-foot frame and rested an inked forearm against the wall to my right. To his credit, this helped block my view of all I feared occurring in that wayward direction. With his other hand, the guy reached into his pocket and pulled out a pen, which I accepted instinctively. Then he twisted sideways so that the sinewy veins and brawn of his arm filled my field of vision.

"I've been hoping to run into you, pretty girl."

I quirked a brow. "Have you?"

"Yeah, you rock up there. You sure know how to put on a good show."

"Thanks."

"Yeah. I'd love it if you signed my arm."

I laughed when I saw what he'd handed me. "With a black Sharpie? You sure you want that?"

"Oh, yeah," he grinned devilishly, "I'm sure I want that. The name's Marcus."

"To Marcus," I mouthed as I wrote, adding my signature and the band's name to his beefy bicep with the type of flourish the founding fathers must've shown at the Constitution's signing. "There you go."

"Bella," he read aloud, folding his tongue on the double 'Ls' with the exaggeration of an opera singer and purposely giving me a bird's eye view of its tip. "A fitting name for such a pretty girl."

"Thanks," I replied with a chuckle. Then, I held the marker back out to him.

Resting a massive hand over mine, he nudged my hand and the marker away. "Don't be too hasty returning that. I've seen you perform before, and your energy…" He shook his head and reached for one of my wayward curls, winding it around a long, thick finger. Then he jerked a deeply cleft jaw back toward his bicep. "Let's just say I'd love your digits added right here."

And I thought to myself, why the hell not?

OOOOO

A short while later, the five of us packed up the van, everyone still pumped by the weekend's success.

Edward, however, seemed strangely subdued. He wasn't usually what one would term an overly gregarious individual, not like Emmett, but he was by no means reticent. Instead, he tended to exude a quieter warmth, a mellow manner off-stage that contrasted and complemented the louder personalities in the group.

"Rosie, baby, you rocked that bass tonight." Emmett beamed at Rosalie, pulling her into his arms and knocking her off balance. At the same time, he planted a loud kiss on her cheek that made her laugh uproariously.

"Hell yeah, you did!" I shouted.

"Oh, yeah!" Alice yelled, fist-pumping the air. "Woo-hoo! Go, Rose!"

"You really did sound great tonight, Rose," Edward added. When he and Rosalie shared a smile, a bolt of envy shot through me. Pivoting, I hid a grimace.

I wasn't jealous, at least not in a manner that was distrustful of their friendship. What pained me was a simple and irrepressible wish to share that type of everyday, friendly, even mundane exchange with Edward. It was a gnawing craving for the kind of exchange he shared earlier with Emmett. And yes, I knew nothing but me was stopping me. But I also knew that the enforced distance was vital to-

When Edward's eyes abruptly met and held mine, the air around me stilled, then crackled.

It wasn't as if Edward and I never looked at one another. Of course, we did; we were bandmates and had to address each other. But there was an unspoken agreement between us, a reciprocal rule of reserve if not of outright aloofness. Long gazes, the kind that led to discussions beyond banal platitudes and band-related concerns, were avoided. So, whenever the threat lurked of a look locking and lingering between us, I always found an excuse to blink and glance away.

Yet, at that moment, overwhelmed by the wonder of wandering within Edward's gaze, by a yearning to explore an emerald world where thoughts hid like sparkling gems, by a desire to lose myself in that lush meadow made up of thousands of green shades…I forgot to look away.

When Edward blinked and dropped his gaze, I sucked in a sharp breath. This was veiled by the animation of our bandmates, who were still involved in their own conversations. When he lifted his eyes again, he focused them on our fellow band members. The silhouette of his jaw was squared stiffly as he swallowed. Attempting to disguise my mental upheaval, I turned back to the group too.

"You were amazing tonight, too, Alice."

"Thanks, Bella!"

"Yeah, you really were! And Emmett, those girls weren't kidding," Rose said. "You really did master those drums."

Emmett chuckled. "You heard that, baby?"

Rose laughed. "Of course I did. Those girls weren't subtle with you or with Edward. By the way, Ed, did you take them up on-"

"Those were amazing skills on the drums, Emmett," I cut in, nodding with the vigor of a bobblehead. The last thing I needed right then was to hear how that ended.

Edward's ensuing nod of agreement with me also seemed strangely intense, almost as if he was as anxious to end that line of questioning as I was.

"Yeah, Emmett, buddy, that closing set was everything." He then turned to Alice. "Al, you were great on rhythm guitar, and Bella…as always, your vocals were breathtaking. It's no wonder they attract so much attention."

"Uh, thanks."

I may have muttered the platitude. In my defense, his words of praise baffled me even more. Edward wasn't an empty flatterer, so I knew the admiration was genuine, but he'd addressed the praises to a spot of misty night air just past my shoulder. And had I imagined the undercurrent in his tone at the very end? It was as if, although he'd enjoyed my performance, he also thought me the Pied Piper, attracting rodents.

"Yeah, yeah, we were all great tonight, but Ed, as usual…" Emmett shook his head in that way of indescribable amazement, "...there are no words for you, man. I don't know that I'd do absolutely anything you asked if you sang a few verses to me in that voice, " he ribbed, alluding once again to that earlier exchange – "but mark my words, you're gonna be famous someday."

Always one who preferred giving rather than receiving praise, Edward snorted self-consciously. As for me, irritation prickled my scalp, and after adding a brisk "Kudos" to everyone else's well-expressed admiration of Edward Cullen, I spun on my heel and stalked away to the back of the van. There, I flung our equipment in like I was pitching in the final inning of the World Series.

"Whoa! Everything good back there, Bella?" Rosalie asked.

"Everything's fine!" I shouted back, then mumbled under my breath, "Everything's just…fucking peachy."

"Anyway, Edward," Rose resumed, "as I was saying, with that voice of yours, if I weren't already with Emmett, I'd be all over you."

"Ha, ha. Funny, Rose," Edward replied.

"I mean it."

I heard Alice's chuckles. "Rose, you're making Edward blush."

"I'm serious, though."

"Emmett, buddy, don't listen to her. She's joking," Edward said now.

"But I'm not joking."

She was joking. In a way. And despite my self-inflicted inner turmoil, I smiled to myself at the hint of panic comingled with amusement in Edward's voice. Apparently, he still needed to fully grasp Rose's sometimes outrageous yet always harmless sense of humor.

I didn't doubt that there was a raw grain of truth in Rose's words, that maybe, in another life, one where Emmett didn't exist, Rose would've gone for Edward. But I also understood that she was teasing. Besides, in that alternate universe, who could blame her? Nevertheless, in this version of our lives, Emmett did exist, and that grain would remain forever buried in a bag with millions of other raw grains. Moreover, I knew that Emmett knew all this and that he was confident enough in Rose and their relationship to acknowledge these alternate-universe facts without any alarm.

Funny how this inane exchange would one day come back to haunt me.

Anyway, as if to prove me correct, Emmett breezily laughed off the exchange.

"I'm not bothered, Ed. Besides-"

"Yeah, no need to worry, Ed, because we've got that 'No Relationships' rule that's only grandfathered in for Emmett and Rose. Remember? So there will be no funny business going on between anyone else in this band."

Like a banging gavel, silence fell in one hard swoop. It stretched like heavy chain mail across all of us around the van, front to back. Had Alice's addition to the conversation been merely a friendly clarification, enlightenment that Edward need not worry about a jealous Emmett – more or less along the lines of what I'd just been thinking – then her words could've been taken in jest as easily as Rose's had been.

However, Alice knew as well as I did that Rose's comment had been a raw grain of truth. Although Alice delivered her quip in the form of yet another bit of offhand exchange, the jab was anything but benign. She was neither clarifying for nor ribbing Edward.

She was warning him.

Still and silent as a stone at the back of the van, I felt my blood pressure spike. Finally breaking out of the stupor, I sprinted to the front, but Rose beat me to a verbal exchange with Alice.

"Alice, we were joking," Rose said.

"Oh, I know that. I was joking, too," Alice offered with a too-breezy laugh.

"Really? Because to me, that sounded less like joking and more like bitching," – Alice's flaring eyes didn't even cause a stutter in Rose – "which is rich coming from you, when Jacob Black hadn't been part of Olympia for a quarter of an hour when you were raking your fingers through his-"

"Enough!" I snapped, rushing between both women.

In Alice's precarious defense, Rosalie probably shouldn't have tossed out that last half, at least not like that. Not that it was the biggest secret. After all, seven months earlier, we four original members of Olympia stood in the middle of my parents' garage while Edward Cullen and Jacob Black huddled in separate corners, awaiting our decision like boxers impatiently anticipating the round tally. Strangely enough, it wasn't the TKO it should've been.

"All right, do we kick Jacob Black to the curb and replace him with Edward Cullen? All those in favor, raise your hand." Even as I put the vote out, my hand rose high up in the air.

"Dear God, yes," Rose said, following suit.

Emmett agreed with a chuckle. "I'm man enough to vote hell yeah."

Alice, who minutes earlier, could indeed be found raking her nails down Jacob Black's brawny arms and her fingers through his thick black curls, now kept those hands at her sides.

"I mean, look at them," she said.

"I already heard and watched them both perform. It's no contest," I said.

"Bella," – Alice dropped her voice to a hissed whisper – "Jacob may not sound as good, but look at him! He might as well be the poster boy for a hot-ass rocker. Edward Cullen has a great voice, but his look screams Science Club Member more than Rock Bandmate. He's lanky, and look at how he's dressed. His reddish hair resembles a mop, and…and he keeps pushing those glasses back. I mean, nothing against him, but he isn't Seattle band material."

I stared at her for a long moment, then, crossing my arms against my chest, I replied in the same whisper-hissed tone,

"Al, did you actually read the Classifieds ad we placed? Because it's increasingly looking like you didn't. Voice, brains, and presence," I reiterated, marking each requirement with an extended finger. "Those were our three priorities, not 'hot-ass rocker.' If anything, history has proved, time and again, that hot-ass rockers are trouble. And seriously, you have a problem with his glasses and how he dresses? I think you've watched that new movie about those mean high-school girls one too many times. Did you hear his voice and that song?"

She quirked a brow. "You mean the song about you? Yeah, I heard it, and I read the ad," Alice smirked. "What about the 'No Romeos' part?"

"The song wasn't about me, Alice," I countered.

But…a tiny, secret thrill rushed up my spine at the possibility I hadn't allowed myself to consider until Alice put it out there. It wasn't about me, though, was it? That would mean Edward Cullen made up that bit of genius on the spot for me. That I inspired him. Which would endanger our 'No Relationships in the Band' clause. This would further mean that if I really valued the best interests of our band, I'd have to dismiss Edward Cullen on the spot.

"It was obviously just something he made up to impress us all. He's extremely talented! And that should be the deciding factor."

"I agree with that – he's extremely talented, and that should be the deciding factor," Rose said with a nod. But she said it in a way and combined it with a quick glance at me, making me think that though she agreed with the deciding factor, she didn't necessarily concur with everything else I'd just said.

"Yep," Emmett chimed in. "And, Al, why are you worried about how he dresses or how his hair looks?" he scoffed. "We're here to put out music, not a fashion magazine."

The vote passed three to one. Afterward, we never brought it up again because Edward fit in as if he'd been part of Olympia from its inception. Besides, there appeared to be no need to rehash it since Alice seemed to accept Edward and being outvoted well enough.

Until now.

Now, I put a right hand up, palm out, toward Rosalie and a left one toward Alice. Emmett stood beside his girlfriend, and Edward stood off to the side, shuffling his feet as if it took a monumental effort to stay put. Tension rolled off his frame. He pulled his beanie off, raking a hand through his shaggy hair, then adjusted his glass frames.

"That's enough," I repeated with more composure. "Alice, that was low, to say the least."

Alice glowered at me, then over my shoulder at Rose. "I wasn't trying to offend anyone! I was teasing!"

"That went beyond teasing, and you know it," Rose retorted.

Flinging a hand in Edward's direction, Alice countered, "You don't see Edward getting all riled up! You know I was joking, right, Edward? You know it was nothing personal. I know you wouldn't break the 'No Relationships' rule."

Alice's jaundiced statement made increasing sense, and it took almost herculean effort not to look at Edward. Moreover, I sensed Edward exerting as much fortitude to keep his gaze from me. Belatedly, it occurred to me that, despite my months-long refusal to raise the topic with my two best friends and what I believed was a stealthy attempt to conceal emotions that I still failed to wholly understand, those emotions, no matter how conflicted, hadn't gone unnoticed.

Before I could say anything, Edward replied to Alice.

"Al, you have nothing to worry about there."

With that, he turned and began hefting the heavier equipment toward the back of the van.

Needless to say, the argument soured the impromptu accolades. We finished the loading in silence. When we were done, Edward and Emmett shut the van's back doors, and I pulled out the ignition key, making my way to the driver's side. That evening, it was Alice's and my turn to drive the van and equipment back to my parents' garage in Bainbridge, where we stored everything during the week. I wasn't exactly looking forward to the drive with her, but now there were things she and I had to clear up.

"All right, guys, see you later. Alice, are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

I spun around and found her not by the van's passenger side, as expected, but a fair distance away, as if she'd been getting ready to leave.

"It's our turn to drop off the van at my parents' garage. Remember?"

Alice winced. She then shuffled her feet like those who know they're about to pull something for which they have no good excuse but will pull it anyway.

"I made plans to go out tonight with that guy from my Statistics class. I've been wanting to talk to him for ages. Remember?"

When I failed to offer her the reply she awaited, probably something along the lines that I did remember, and not only did I remember, but this made her abandoning her responsibilities to the band one hundred percent better, Alice shifted pleading eyes toward Rose and Emmett.

"Can't one of you guys go with her?"

I bristled at her gall. "What's with you tonight, Alice? Emmett and Rose did it two weekends ago!"

"But-"

"But what? You know what? Whatever." Throwing up my hands, I wheeled around. "I'll drive over to Bainbridge by my-"

"Bella, I'll go with you."

I kept my back to the group until I could face forward and feign serenity despite my suddenly thundering heart.

"Thanks, Edward, but you went last week with Emmett, and I'm fine going on my own. Charlie should still be awake, and he'll help me unload-"

"I don't mind making the trip two weeks in a row."

"I'd hate to ruin any plans you have tonight."

While he sighed and pushed back his glasses, I vaguely noted the rest of the band members in my periphery, heeding our exchange like Wimbledon spectators, where the score is 6 All, and we are now in the tie-breaker.

"I don't have plans, Bella. But if you do, I'll go alone."

I made my serve. "Okay."

Edward nodded sharply, then sighed again. Yet his features remained impassive. "Great. Let me get the keys, and please just let your parents know that I'll be doing the drop-off so that-"

"No, I mean 'okay' as in, let's go together."

If I hadn't shocked myself with the unexpected and inexplicable capitulation after months of avoiding this type of scenario, I might've found amusement in how Edward's eyes shot open. His head popped back like a snapped rubber band. Nevertheless, with another nod, he made his way to the back of the van and pulled open the double doors. We heard him tuck in his guitar case and shut the doors before he strode to the van's passenger side.

As I faced the remaining band members, I caught the tail end of Rosalie's enigmatic twitch of lips. Emmett, his gaze suddenly glued to the ground, cupped a hand around his mouth. His shoulders shook in a similarly mysterious manner until a helpful elbow to his ribs rid him of whatever agitated him.

Coughing, he cleared his throat. "Thanks, baby. Something…" – he swallowed back a fresh bout – "...aww man, something keeps getting lodged in my throat."

"Yeah, I can tell," Rose replied. "Anyway, Alice, you can leave now that that's been cleared up."

Alice, who chomped at the metaphorical bit minutes earlier, now appeared ready to grow roots.

"You said you had plans, right?" I reminded her, making a circular 'get on with it' motion.

Alice gave a reluctant nod. She shot me a dark look as if I'd somehow orchestrated her last-minute date plans with the guy from Statistics, and she now expected me to get her out of it. She announced her departure with apparent ambivalence when I offered no alternate solution.

"I guess I'll see you guys later."

With that, Alice stalked off. Rose shook her head in Alice's wake and fixed her eyes on me.

"Bella, all good?"

"Yep. Yeah. All's good."

All was not good. In fact, my entire system felt as if it were on the brink of crashing. Nevertheless, whatever Rose found as she searched my eyes must not have overly distressed her.

"Cool. I'll see you at home later, then. Come on, Emmett."

Grabbing Emmett's hand, she tugged him away. Emmett called over his shoulder,

"See ya, guys! Ed, I'll call you in the morning- that is unless you're getting bus- Oof!"

"Baby, you keep choking on air," Rose cooed. "Maybe you should keep your mouth shut tightly so that won't happen."

"Good idea," Emmett chuckled.

I watched them disappear, mingled laughter following them into the shadows. With a deep breath, I turned back to the van and Edward.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, Bella."

We climbed onto our respective sides, shutting our doors, and faced our respective windshield portion. The air inside the van felt thick and hard to breathe, with a familiar, mind-frenzying bouquet of soap, mint, and wood filling the cabin and making my right hand shake as I slipped the key into the ignition.

"You want me to drive?" Edward offered.

"No, that's fine. I haven't been drinking, I promise," I added with a nervous chuckle.

"I didn't think you had," he replied with a small smile.

Nodding, I turned the key.

"Bella."

He said my name with such a pang of bittersweetness, his gritty voice infused with brine as if he were somehow thrilled and agonized simultaneously. In turn, my heart performed a similarly paradoxical somersault, clenching painfully even as it leaped. Slowly, trying to first steel myself and mentally prepare, and with my hand still locked around the ignition's key, I angled sideways and met Edward's gaze.

Had I actually attempted to prepare? There was no suitable preparation, no coat of armor thick enough, no steel vault sufficiently reinforced, and no defensive walls high enough. My breath caught. His eyeglasses notwithstanding, the darkness surrounding us made Edward's jade gaze even more captivating. With no other colors or shades around to attempt distractions, his eyes were hypnotic jewels, as mesmerizing as his voice. As was everything about him.

His Adam's apple bobbed in my periphery. "I…I want…I want to say that you and I…that I…that we…we can share the drive. I'll drive back."

I got the feeling that wasn't what he'd wanted to say.

"Oh. Oh, okay. Sure."

I offered him a soft smile, which he returned, but better, with his emerald eyes sparkling amid the shadowy obscurity in a way my brown eyes could never achieve. After a moment, I forced myself to blink. Then, easing my foot off the brake, I turned my eyes, if not my full attention, to the windshield and the road ahead.


A/N: Thoughts?

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