Don't Stand So Close Ch. 25

Chapter 25 of DSSCTM is now up!

At Last...I have returned...

I am so sorry for the delay with this post. I originally sent it out as a review reply to everyone who reviewed chapter 24, only to learn a few days later that most people hadn't received their reply, thanks to the many FFn fails that have been going on. As much as I'd love to say I had time to write another 200 replies, I did not, and I wasn't sure they'd get to you. So here it is, for you to read at last.

It took me so long to get it up here because of a particularly aggressive case of strep throat I've had for the last week. This is my first day out of bed. 

Chapter 25 will be up ASAP.

Happy Reading!

Xo!

EPOV

            “Did you iron your shirt?”

            “Yes.”

            “And you have all of your information together? Your resume and your portfolio?”

            “Yes.”

            “Which suit did you wear?”

            “The blue one.”

            “Hmm, I’m not sure about that one. Why not gray?”

            I smiled a little at the phone, projecting my mother’s voice on speaker. Should I tell her I didn’t wear the gray one because it still smells like Bella? That I wore parts of it while fucking her wildly on the couch? That I never want to have it dry-cleaned again, for fear it will lose her scent?

            “I just wore the gray one to the dance on Friday, Mom. I haven’t had it cleaned yet.”

            “It needs to be cleaned? Did you spill something on it?”

            I roll my eyes as I finish tying my tie in the mirror. “No. I just…I worked up a sweat, dancing, Mom. I want to have it cleaned before I wear it again.”

            “I just think gray is so classy. Plus, it’s very hip right now.”

            “How do you know what’s hip?” I grab a comb from the drawer of the vanity and run it through my hair a few times. It’s no use.

            “Please, Edward. Jasper is quite the fashionista.”

            “I don’t think Jasper would appreciate being called a fashionista,” I laugh, grabbing my suit jacket off the hanger.

            “Well, maybe not, but the fact is, he knows what’s hip and what’s not. He says gray is in.”

            “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, Mom. I have to go. I’ll call you later, okay?”

            “Okay, honey. Good luck! You’ll do great, I know it. Call me when you’re finished.”

            “I will, I love you.”

            “Love you, too,” she says, and hangs up.

            I grab my phone off of the counter and silence it before slipping it into my pocket. I check myself one more time in the mirror. I look…professional.

            I grab my things and hit the road. The sooner I’m sitting in front of Port Angeles High School, the better.

            I feel awful for not telling Bella. I tried to, multiple times, but we always got sidetracked. Plus, as much as I keep telling myself she will be happy if I get another job, I’m not sure that’s true. If I work somewhere else, it takes away the obvious ethical issues with our relationship, but does it change some of the grayer areas? She’ll still be a student; I’ll still be a teacher. She’ll still be leaving for college in a few months; I’ll need to get yet another job if I want to go with her. She’ll still have to deal with her father; and fuck…I’ll still have to deal with him, too.

            All I know for sure is that if I go to another school, I can’t get fired for dating a student at my school. I know I’ll see less of Bella, but we’ll make it work.

            I see a hand waving at me as I drive and turn my head to see the Chief himself, passing by. Lovely. I give him a small wave and hope he won’t ask me too many questions about why I’m not at school on a Thursday the next time I see him. I continue down the road, going over my interview answers in my head.

            I don’t mind interviews. While I’m not crazy about the process, I don’t lose sleep over them, either. I know my shit when it comes to education. For me, it really comes down to the compatibility of the school.

            That’s what sucks so badly about leaving Forks. Never, in my wildest dreams, would I have thought my first teaching job would be at such a perfect school. The staff, the school board, the community…they are all so supportive of teachers and hold them to the highest standard. I love the pressure and challenges of teaching at a great school. And while I hope like hell Port Angeles will be the same, I know how unlikely that is.

            I roll up to the parking lot and grab my phone. I should text Bella. I glance at the clock. Shit. She’s going to be heading to my class next, and she’ll realize I’m not there. I should have told her. Fuck. Great move, Cullen. I could tell her over the phone, but something tells me I should tell her in person. Maybe I can dazzle her into forgetting she should be mad.

            I type out a quick text, eagerly waiting her response. In such a short period of time, Bella has become so much to me. She’s my friend and confidante and favorite companion but she’s also so much more…she’s my lifeline, my drug, my obsession.

            My phone chirps back with a response.

                        Well hurry up and get in here. I’m waiting for you. X

           

            Shit. I can see her now, perfectly perched in her seat, eyes glued to the doorway. I hate the feeling that I know she is about to experience. My substitute is going to walk through the door, and the dread that will fill Bella is making me feel a little sick, too.

            I glance at the clock. Shit. I need to get in there. I place my phone in the cup holder, grabbing my briefcase and heading into the building.

            Port Angeles High School is newer than Forks High School, with a flashier interior and entryway. After passing through a few sets of doors, I stop at a window, looking into the main office.

            The young woman behind the desk blushes as soon as she sees me, and it takes all of my self-control not to roll my eyes.

            “How can I help you?” she asks, leaning over her desk toward the plexi-glass that separates us. I don’t miss the double entendre in the way she says it.

            “I’m Edward Cullen. I have an appointment with Principal Worthington,” I say, smiling. The girl looks like she’s about to faint.

            “Certainly,” she says, batting her eyelashes. “Please, come in.”

            I hear the buzz of the door and pull it open, bringing me into the main foyer of the Port Angeles High School. I step into the main office, looking around at the many awards and recognitions of the school posted on the wall.

            “Please have a seat, Mr. Cullen,” the girl says, and gestures to a chair sitting by the entrance. I sit down quietly, looking around.

            A group of girls enter the office, wearing blue plaid skirts and white shirts. I had forgotten P.A. has a dress code. I notice one of them watching me and give her a questioning look. How do I know her?

            She leans over the counter, exposing her already too bare legs to me and speaking quietly to the girl who let me in. I glance at her reddish, blonde hair. How do I know her?

            “Tanya, you ready?” Another girl asks from the doorway. Red turns around, gives me a wink, and saunters out of the office.

            Son of a bitch. That’s Tanya Denali, Bella’s field hockey nemesis. God, I hate the idea of teaching her and being a part of this school, after the way they played against Forks. Stop thinking that way, Cullen. You need to do what’s best for Bella. Besides, you’d have to leave Forks a year from now, anyway.

            A blond man appears then, smiling widely. “You must be Edward,” he says, extending his hand.

            “Yes, hello, Principal Worthington,” I say, standing. He leads me into his office closing the door behind us.

            “Please, call me James,” he grins, sitting behind his desk.

            “James,” I repeat, sitting across from him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~oo~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            The interview goes by quickly. Seventy-five minutes later, James tells me he’ll call me in a few days about second interviews, and that they hope to make their decision by the end of the month. I don’t know why, but I get a bad feeling from him.

            He walks with me out to my car, chatting with me about life in Forks. “You’ve got some very skilled students at Forks,” he says. “I grew up in that area. I know some of the families well.”

            “Really? Like who?” I don’t know why I ask. Do I want to know? No. Honestly, I just want to get away from this sketchy guy and his sketchy school. No. I need this job.

            “Well the Newtons and I go way back, do you know their son, Mike?”

            “Yes, I have Mike in class.”

            “Yes, and the Webers I’ve known for a long time. You must know Angela.”

            “I do, sir. Yes.”

            “And of course Charlie Swan,” he smiles.

            I nod. “Charlie is a good man,” I say softly, holding his eyes.

            “His daughter, too. Do you have Isabella in class?”

            I nod. “I do.”

            “Talk about a swan, huh? I remember when she was just a baby. Boy, has she grown up,” he says, and although the words themselves aren’t that offensive, something about the way he says it makes my stomach churn.

            “Isabella is a very bright young woman,” I say. I offer my hand to him. “Thank you for your time, James. I look forward to hearing from you.”

            He shakes my hand and turns back into the building, leaving me alone with the sick feeling inside.

            I get into the car and immediately see my phone lighting up: Nineteen new text messages. Great. Well done, boyfriend.

            Can you meet me at my house after practice? I’ll explain then.

            I need to get this over with. Bella will likely be upset, and why shouldn’t she be? I should have told her. Maybe she won’t be. Maybe she’ll see it as I do—a great opportunity for us to stay out of trouble and stay together.

            I sigh as I back out of the parking lot, heading back toward the freeway. As much as I know I should be happy about this chance to go elsewhere, a large part of me can’t help but beg, “please don’t make me work there.”

            The things we do for love.

Chapter 23 EPOV

Here is the EPOV from the dance, which was sent out to people who reviewed chapter 23 (for the most part...damn FFn). 

EPOV

I can’t believe she danced with him. After he had his tongue down her throat, and I had to drag myself out of here to calm down, Bella danced with Newton, again. That girl is too forgiving.

            I try to look away from her as she talks to Alice, and focus back on the gang of idiots around me, but it’s so hard to block her out to listen to their inane chatter.

            “I know, I know, bro,” Tyler is saying. Why do they think they need to talk this way? Am I supposed to be impressed by how often they can say the words “bro” or “bra”? I mean, Emmett’s been known to drop the “bro”-word from time to time, but Crowley is seriously giving me a headache. I smile and nod. I’m the cool teacher.

            “Okay, so, Mr. Cullen, did you see the show earlier or what, bro?” Tyler asks me. I look at him questioningly. The show?

            Ben—I think it’s Ben—laughs and nods, enthusiastically. “Yeah, dude, holy shit. Alice Brandon and Bella Swan were totally going at it on the dance floor.”

            Lovely.

            “How about at the end, though? When Brandon pulled on Swan’s ponytail? I was like ‘fuck yeah’, bro!” Tyler says, high-fiving Ben. Alice was pulling Bella’s hair? Did they get into a fight?

            “You know I’m no minute man, but I seriously thought I was gonna blow my load watching Brandon lick Swan like that. Fuckin-a, man! Can you believe it? How hot would that shit be? A little girl-on-girl?” Ben is making lewd gestures with his hands as he talks.

            What the fuck? Alice was licking Bella? I feel the tightening in my groin and close my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply. I don’t want to share Bella with anyone, but even I can’t deny how hot that must have been. What the fuck were they thinking?

            “Dude,” Tyler is saying, talking to another, big kid I don’t know. Garrett? It’s something like that. “We should totally try to sneak into the girls’ locker room. I bet Swan and Brandon are in there all the time, just going at it!”

            Jesus Christ. What has Bella done?

            The guys are looking at me like they’ve shared the hottest, most coveted piece of information out there. Are they honestly expecting me to join in as they fantasize about two of my students? Fuck. Where’s Bella?

            I look around to see her watching something with a concerned look on her face. What’s wrong? I want to go to her, and kiss that frown off her face, but I’m stuck over here, pretending I give a shit about what these meatheads have to say. I hate playing it cool.

            Honestly, all I want is to wrap my arms around Bella and dance with her—really dance with her—so all these thugs know who she belongs to. I’ve been watching her dance all night. When Bella moves, it reeks of sex. Her hips sway, her eyes close, and it’s all I can do to keep from moving up behind her and pounding into her with my throbbing cock. Fuck.

            I wonder if I could get her to leave early. Am I allowed to leave early? Mrs. Cope said that we had more chaperones than she expected…

            “Mr. Cullen.”

            I look up to see Alice standing in front of me, blocking Bella from view.

            I glance at the football players next to me who are staring, mouths open, at Alice. The big brother side of me wants to punch them. Where the fuck is Jasper?

            “Yes, Miss Brandon, what can I do for you?” I ask, trying to block Alice from their view.

            “I was wondering if you’d dance with me,” she says, smiling.

            Jesus Christ. First, I get to listen to these morons talk about how hot Alice The Lesbian is, and now she’s asking to dance with me, in front of them. Well done, Alice.

            I give her a questioning look. This can’t be a good idea. She’s a student. Ever so subtly, she cocks her head to the side, redirecting me to Charlotte West, a biology teacher who is dancing with a student.

            I look back to Alice, who has a knowing glint in her eye. I nod, gesturing for her to head to the dance floor. She takes my hand, pulling me away from the football players, and wrapping her arms around my neck.

            I place my hands on her waist, holding her an appropriate distance from my body. As soon as we start to move, I start to talk. “So would you like to tell me what this is about?” I ask.

            She laughs. “Bella wants to dance with me.”

            “So she’s living vicariously through you?”

            “I’m opening up the window of opportunity. I went over to some other girls from my grade and I asked them if they dared me to ask you to dance. When they did, I said if I did it, someone else had to do it after. So, you’re going to dance with about ten different girls. But after a while, Bella will come and ask you, and you’ll be able to,” she says it with this finality that makes it sound like the most sensible thing in the world.

            “I have to dance with a bunch of girls, just to dance with Bella once?” It doesn’t really seem like an even trade—although, if I were being honest, I’d do just about anything to put my hands on Bella as soon as possible. It’s all for Bella.

            “Yes.”

            “I see. Thank you?”

            She laughs. “You’re welcome. I know she wants to dance with you. This was all I could think of.”

            “Thank you, Alice. I hope it works.”

            “It will.” We continue dancing in silence for a moment, before Alice speaks again, “I have to say this, and now seems like as good a time as any.”

            “Okay…” I prompt, spinning us around a little. I watch her face carefully, wondering what she’s got to say. She suddenly looks nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alice look apprehensive about anything.

            “Bella is my best friend,” she says, glancing up at me. “She is not close to a lot of people, but those who she is close to…well… when Bella loves, she loves wholly. And she loves you, Edward. What you mean to her…I don’t know if she has even realized how deep it runs. And you know, she’s been through a lot. I was her friend back then, when her mom left. She hasn’t been the same since. She’s had this…weight…and you’ve…you’ve lifted it. That first night you met, you lifted it. She’s so… happy. And she deserves it. Anyway, I’m rambling…the point is this…” she looks over my shoulder for a moment, and then back to me. “You two are in the shittiest situation I’ve ever heard of. There are so many ways for both of you to get so fucking hurt; I can’t even comprehend them all. So I want to tell you this: If you don’t do everything in your power to make sure that doesn’t happen…to make sure Bella gets to stay happy…I will kill you.”

            She looks up at me, totally serious, and honestly, I believe her. Alice is a lot of things, including crazy and protective. I nod my head, automatically. I have to tell her…to try to explain…it’s all for Bella.

            “Alice,” I say. Where to begin? “I applied for another job.”

            She stares at me for a moment. “What? Where?”

            “Port Angeles. I don’t know if I’ll get it, but I’ve applied. Bella doesn’t know. I’ll tell her—I will, but I’m telling you, now, because I want you to know how seriously I take this situation. I don’t want anything to happen to us, and I don’t want Bella to be hurt in any way. Forks is a great place to work, but I’ll leave if I can, if it means Bella and I can be together.”

            “You know it’s not that easy, right? Charlie is going to flip, no matter when you tell him. If you leave for Port Angeles, he’ll put it together. If you tell him in a year, when she’s graduated, he’ll put it together.”

            I nod. I know that. I know Charlie will probably put a bounty on my head. “I know.”

            “I’m sorry,” Alice says softly. “I’m sorry you guys met under these circumstances.”

            “I’m not,” I say. “If we hadn’t…I may have never met Bella.”

            She grins. The song is winding up. “You’re a good guy, Edward.”

            “Yeah? You approve?”

            She nods, moving her hand to pat my cheek. “I do.”

            “You know what I don’t approve of?”

            She shakes her head. “What?”

            “You licking my girlfriend’s neck.”

            She laughs loudly at this. “Sorry. Sex sells.”

            “She’s mine,” I say, and although I mean it teasingly, it comes out like a growl.

            Alice grins, stepping away from me as the song ends. “She was mine first, Cullen,” she says, and winks.

            And like that she’s gone. And before I can even think about anything she’s said, Angela Weber is in front of me, wiping her palms nervously on her dress. I sigh.

            It’s all for Be

DSSCTM Chapter 22/23 Outtake EPOV

EPOV

             I press my lips to Bella’s again.

            “Don’t go,” I murmur.

            She groans. “I have to go.”

            “No you don’t,” I say, letting my tongue touch her lips. “Stay here a little while longer.”

            She grins, but pulls away. “I have to go, baby. I promised Charlie.”

            I sigh and step back, holding only onto her hands. “What time will you be at the dance?”

            She laughs, and it’s this musical, magical sound. I need to make her laugh more often. “I’ll be there when the dance starts.”

            “You’re not going to be fashionably late?”

            “Please, even showing up fashionably late won’t help me when I’ve got Mike Newton next to me,” she says, rolling her eyes.

            She presses her lips to mine once, quickly, and grins.

            “I’ll see you later,” I say.

            “Later…” she says, swinging those fine hips as she walks down the front steps.           

            God, this woman’s hold on me is ridiculous. I watch as she gets into Alice’s car, blows me a kiss, and disappears out of sight.

            My hand is still up in front of my chest, where I caught her kiss, five minutes after she’s pulled away.

            Bella. My Bella. I can’t stop thinking about her. How can a situation so dangerous make me feel so safe? When I’m with her…it feels like nothing in the world can come between us. She is mine. I am hers.

            I walk back inside, but my house feels empty without her. I call it our home because, truly, it only feels like a home when she’s here. The rooms feel barren without her, devoid of any life and meaning. I sink onto the couch, realizing the knit throw on it still smells of her. I inhale deeply.

            Fuck, I’m hard. This is what she does to me.

            Growing up, I never went through the phase of jerking off three or four times a day like some guys do. When I was in college, and getting laid all the time, I hardly ever masturbated.

            Since meeting Bella I do so three times a day, regularly. And that doesn’t even include any orgasms I have with Bella over the course of the day. I’ve become insatiable.

            I stroke my hand over my jeans once, hissing at the contact. I’m painfully hard, and I really don’t feel like moving. I rub my hand up and down against the seam a few times, until finally, sighing, I cave and rip them open.

            As I’m moving the denim to the side, a flash of lime green catches my eye. What the…?

            I reach into my pocket, and realize Bella’s lace panties from the night before are still in there. I vaguely remember shoving them into my pocket when I took them from her body, before burying myself between my legs. Jesus Christ, the vision of her on my counter top, spread wide, has my dick weeping.

            I hold the lace up to my face and inhale.

            Bella.

            Pure, unadulterated, Bella. The heavy scent of her arousal is concentrated in this small patch of lace, and I hold it reverently, my fingers tracing the contours and textures of the fabric. I grip the panties in my left hand, letting my right hand wrap around my cock. I’m so fucking hard.

            I hold the lace between my fingers, fondling it as I stroke myself roughly. I need this. Flashes of Bella cut through my mind as I inhale her scent and rub my fingers compulsorily.

            Bella’s hair. Bella’s neck. The sound Bella makes when I bite her neck. Bella’s lips. Bella’s lips on my lips. Bella’s lips on my cock.

            Fuck, that’s a good one.

            Bella’s lips on my chest. Bella’s pussy lips. Bella’s pussy. Fuck, Bella’s wet, throbbing, pussy. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Bella’s pussy on my hand. Bella’s pussy on my lips. Bella’s pussy around my dick.

            I’m rubbing the panties against my shaft now, both hands stroking up and down as I grit my teeth, desperate for release.

            Bella’s tits. Bella’s tits bouncing as she rides my—

            What the fuck? What is that sound? My phone is ringing. Whatever. I’ll call whoever it is back.

But then, I register the ring tone and realize it’s Bella calling. Fuck, yes.

            I keep one hand wrapped securely around my dick, and the other clicks the screen on my phone, setting it to speaker.

            “Uggggh,” I say, unable to get a word out.

            Silence is on the other end.

            “Edward?” Bella asks, after a moment.

            “Fuck, Bella,” I breathe, barely finishing her name. My hands are flying up and down now, squeezing and twisting and rubbing the lace against my skin so hard I’m gonna chafe if I don’t come soon.

            “Holy fuck,” she breathes into the phone. “Are you touching yourself?” she asks, her voice low.

            “Yes,” I say.

            “God, I wish I could see you right now,” she says in a husky voice. “I love watching the way you touch yourself.”

            “Ughhh…yessss,” I hiss, pumping faster.

            “Are you pretending it’s my hand?” she asks softly. “Or maybe my mouth? Or my pussy?”

            Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come if she keeps talking like this.

            “Bella,” I moan.

            “Or maybe…are you pretending it’s my ass?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

            “FUCK!” I call out, coming all over the beautiful, lime green panties and myself. Shit. The idea of being inside of Bella’s ass…holy fuck…and hearing her say it…well, it’s burned in my memory.

            Is that something she wants? Would she really do that?

            Bella is giggling on the other end, amused with my reaction. “Well that did the trick,” I hear her say.

            My heart is pounding in my ears, and I can’t slow down my breathing. Fuck.

            After a minute, I’ve used the lace to clean myself up (Sorry, Bella) and I can speak coherently. “Sorry,” I laugh.           

            “That’s okay,” she says. “That was way hotter than I thought this call was going to be.”

I laugh. “Why did you call? I’m sure it wasn’t only to practice your phone sex skills,” I tease.

“I actually just called because I think I left my wallet there. Could you bring it tonight?”

            “Sure. Where is it?”

            “I think it’s in your bathroom. I took it out of my bag this morning when I was looking for my hairbrush.”

            “I’ll bring it,” I say.

            “Okay,” Bella breathes. “Well, I have to go. Charlie is downstairs waiting for me to make lunch. I’ll see you in a bit.”

            “If you miss me, you can see me sooner,” I hint.

            I can hear her smile through the phone. “If I miss you, I’ll call you.”

            “Bye.”

            “Bye.”

            I sigh and lean back against the couch, at ease after my climax and hearing my girl’s voice again.

            The house phone rings, and I laugh, answering it before the first ring is done. “Miss me already?” I say to Bella.

            “Edward?” My mother asks. Whoops.

            “Hi Mom.”

            “I did miss you. How did you know?” she asks, laughing.

            “Sorry, I thought you were Bella,” I admit. I love being able to talk about her so freely.

            “How is Bella?”

            “She’s…” smoking hot? A freak in bed? “Good.”

            “I actually was calling because I wanted to make sure we’re still on for next weekend,” she says. She sounds like she’s doing something else as she talks… cooking? It sounds like the stove is on.

            “Next weekend?”

            “Yes, for your trip to Seattle,” she reminds me.

            Oh shit, that’s right. I’d forgotten the girls had agreed to visit next weekend. Is that still on? “I don’t know, Mom. I’ll check with Bella. I assume we’re still on.”

            “Great! We’re all looking forward to it!”

            “I doubt that.”

            “Well, Emmett, Jasper, Rosalie, and I are looking forward to it,” she corrects.

            “Rosalie?”

            “Say what you want about her, Edward, but she’s spent the last week repainting the guest room for you two. She might say she doesn’t like you dating Bella, but she certainly wants to make a good impression.”

            Huh. Interesting. “Okay, anything else?”

            “Carlisle,” my Mom calls. “Edward is on the phone. Would you like to speak to him?”

            I can’t hear his reply, but just the general tenor is enough to tell me he’s not going to pick up the phone. “It’s fine, Mom.”

            “No, it’s not dear. I’m sorry,” she says.

            “It’s only been a week,” I say, even though I know that’s no excuse.

            “So what are you and Bella doing tonight?” she asks, like it’s the most normal thing in the world to ask what my high-school-student-girlfriend and I are up to.

            “Actually, there is a school dance tonight. Homecoming,” I explain. I get up and move to the laundry room, where I toss Bella’s panties into the wash.

            “Oh! What is Bella wearing? Are you coordinating what you wear?”

            “Mom, are you serious? I’m not her date. And I’m not 15.”

            “Oh,” she laughs. I hear a pan drop in the sink. “Of course not. I just thought that maybe you’d do something like that anyway…you know, just for you.”

            Shit, should I have offered that? Should I have acted like her “date” without being her “date”?

            “I didn’t even think of that,” I admit.

            “Did you at least get her some flowers?”

            Fuck. No. “Ah, I will,” I say. “I’ve gotta go, Mom. I need to get ready.”

            “Okay, dear. Tell Bella I said hi.”

            “I will. I love you, Mom.”

            “I love you, too.”

            She hangs up and I run my hand through my hair. Shit. I need some flowers.

            But first, I need a shower.

DSSCTM Chapter 21 Outtake EPOV

EPOV: Chapter 21

            Get the damn ball. Fuck. Pass the ball to Bella. Pass Bella the fucking ball. What is it with this team that they so blatantly ignore people who are open? Lauren Mallory needs to get the fuck over herself and pass the damn ball.

            If you’d asked me, a few months ago, what I knew about field hockey, I could have probably told you it’s a game women play in the United States. In England, men play, I think. They use a stick. There is a ball. That was the extent of my knowledge.

            Now, I can tell you there are 11 players on the field at a time, and Bella’s team uses the 3-3-3-1-1 model, where they have three forwards, three midfielders, three defenders, a sweeper, and a goalie. Bella is a center midfielder, considered to be the most physically demanding position, as you must both drop back to play defense every time the ball moves to your end, and push up with the offense to score. My girl is in great fucking shape.

            When you put your body between the ball and the other player, it gets called for obstruction. Stupid fucking rule, right? I know. The damn whistle blows constantly when FHS is playing a shitty team. If your stick hits another stick it’s hacking. Bella doesn’t hack. She plays with finesse.

            And right now, she’s fucking open and no one is passing her the ball.

            I look over at the Harvard scout, who is on the other side of the field. He’s younger than I expected, but I guess maybe they have a lot of young scouts who travel afar to check out new recruits.

            God, it would be amazing if Bella chose Harvard. My family has a house there that they’ve kept for investment purposes for years. Unfortunately, I can’t tell Bella about it. I don’t want her to feel like I’m swaying her decision. Ever since she said Harvard was coming. I’d been thinking about telling her. I could go with her on her official visit. We could stay at my family’s house. But then, I realize if we do that, I might be subtly encouraging her to go there. The move would be easy. I wouldn’t have to sell my house.

            My mother warned me on Sunday about this. She urged me to let Bella make her own decisions, so she wouldn’t resent me down the road. But that wouldn’t happen, would it?

            Yes! Alice has the ball. Bella is sprinting to get in front of her. Go, go, go, baby. She’s flying down the field, so much faster than any of her teammates. Stick in one hand, she surpasses the defenders around her quickly, positioning herself in front of Alice, wide open for the break away.

            Alice sees it. I swear those two have a sixth sense about each other on the field. The ball is flying up—shit, it’s moving faster than Bella was expecting, but it’s at the right angle.

            Bella’s body moves swiftly, the stick an extension of her arm. The ball is immediately in her possession, never slowing as she heads toward the goal.

            The only defender in her way is passed effortlessly, as Bella taps the ball between the girl’s legs and meets it on the other side, as if the obstacle was never there in the first place. The goalie comes out from the goal, ready to meet Bella at the top of the circle.

            The goalie is charging right for her, and Bella’s not backing down. Fuck, be careful! The goalie drops to her side, attempting to slide into her, but Bella anticipates it, and easily flicks the ball up, into the air, and over the goalie’s body.

            Bella’s legs get caught in the process, though, and she stumbles trying to get over the large, bulky pads.

            One leg over the goalie, the other still trapped, Bella stretches her whole body out, legs lunging and arms reaching, toward the ball, which is almost out of reach.

            With a smooth, swift, sweeping move, Bella has reached the ball, sending it flying into the goal. Yes! That’s my girl!

            She’s so talented. So few people are truly well rounded, excelling at a variety of things, and yet, Bella does it with such ease, and she doesn’t even realize it. When my mother heard that she played field hockey, potentially at the collegiate level, she was incredibly impressed. Bella is such a tiny, fragile looking girl and yet, tougher than anyone I know. I smile as the game ends, and I see Bella celebrate with her teammates.

            Before long, I notice the Harvard scout heading toward Bella. He had to be impressed with that play. Bella was unstoppable today. Harvard is a long way from Forks, but the change could be so great for her. Bella would thrive in a new environment.

            I wait for Victoria to finish praising the girls for their performance. She knows I’m listening, so she is playing it up, but I know how she really talks to them. Most of the time she is berating, belittling, and vicious to them, but whenever she thinks I’m listening, she turns on the charm.

            Bella is glowing as she stretches, her lean, strong body releasing as she moves. God, she’s flexible. Son of a bitch… I’m hard. I adjust myself quickly, hoping no one has noticed the pervy teacher ogling the field hockey team.

            Just as the Harvard scout is closing in on Bella, her team starts singing.

            “HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR BELLA, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!”

            What the fuck? I look at Bella, who is blushing profusely and looks up at me, an apologetic look on her face.

            Today is her fucking birthday? She didn’t tell me it was her birthday? What the fuck? Why wouldn’t she tell me?

            Her whole fucking field hockey team knows it is her birthday, and her boyfriend doesn’t? I’m such a fucking idiot. How serious can things honestly be between us if she doesn’t even tell me it’s her birthday? Here I am, picking out new fucking paint colors for the Cambridge House, and Bella won’t share basic information about herself.

            I feel a little sick. What does that say about the state of our relationship? Am I inventing this deep connection I thought we had? Fuck, fuck, fuck. Great. Now I’m the ass who didn’t know it was his girlfriend’s birthday. I’d thought about her birthday before, knowing it was coming up, and how we might celebrate it. None of it included finding out by watching her get serenaded by her field hockey team. What the fuck, Bella?

            I should leave. If she doesn’t want to celebrate her birthday with me, fine. I don’t need to stay here and force myself onto her. I run my hand through my hair. Fuck.

            I feel a tapping on my shoulder, and turn to see Charlie Swan, smiling. Shit.

            “Hey, Charlie,” I say, trying to smile.

            “Edward, how are you?” he asks, shaking my hand.

            “Good, thanks. You?” I take a few deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm myself.

            Charlie nods. “Good, good. That was one hell of a game, huh?”

            “Yes. Bella played exceptionally well,” I say. I’m pissed at her, but it’s true.

            I glance in her direction. She’s watching me, mouth open. I’m sure she’s wondering what Charlie wants. What does Charlie want?

            “So, look, Edward, I know this is last minute, but as I’m sure you heard, today is Bella’s birthday,” Charlie begins. Yes, Charlie. I just heard. “Anyway, I’m having a little dinner for her over at the lodge, and I’d love it if you could come.”

            “To Bella’s birthday dinner?” I repeat, making sure I’ve heard him correctly.

            Charlie nods. “You’re her favorite teacher. Bella isn’t close to a lot of people, you know? She’s got a small group of people she lets in. You’re important to her, I can tell. I think it would mean a lot to her if you were there.”

            I smile at Charlie. His affection for his daughter is apparent in everything he does. “Of course I’ll come, Charlie.”

            “Great. It’s at The Lodge. The reservation is for 6:00. I’m gonna take my time getting over there, but as soon as you can be there would be great,” he says.

            “Sure thing,” I say.

            “Also…I know this isn’t your area of expertise, but I mean, you’re at school with her all day,” Charlie begins, he has an anxious look on his face. Where is this going? “Do you ever see her with any…boys?”

            “Boys?”  Where are you going with this, Charlie?

            “Yeah, I mean, is she friendly with any boy in particular?” Charlie looks so uncomfortable asking me this, but no more than I am answering it.

            “Um, no…not really, no. No, I don’t think I’ve seen her with any boys during school. She’s usually with Alice.” That’s true. And I’m not really a boy anymore, so technically, it’s not a lie. “Why do you ask?”

            “A few weeks ago she had said something about seeing someone…I thought maybe I could invite him if he was here,” Charlie says, gesturing toward the crowd of students on the sidelines. God, I hope Charlie doesn’t hate me when he finds out what I’ve been doing with his daughter. I really like him.

            “I don’t think he’s a student at Forks,” I say. “I haven’t seen her with any of the boys at school.”

            Charlie nods, satisfied for now. “As long as it’s not that Newton boy. What a fuckwad that kid is,” he says, shaking his head.

            “Hi Dad,” Bella says then, approaching from behind me. “Hello, Mr. Cullen.”

            “Hey Bells!” Charlie beams.

            “Hello Miss Swan,” I say. Although Charlie took my mind off of Bella’s birthday for a bit, seeing her up close makes me angry all over again…and now, I get to go celebrate with Bella, Charlie, and whomever else Charlie considers a part of Bella’s inner circle. Excellent.

            I take a deep breath and run my fingers through my hair, trying to figure out what I will say to Bella, and how I will make it through dinner without saying it to her. As I watch her talk about Harvard, I realize it won’t be easy.

            But then again, nothing with our relationship is.

           

           

           

DSSCTM Chapter 20 Outtake

Chapter 20 Outtake: Sunday Night Phone Call

            My toes feel a little numb as I rub them together under the sheets. It’s freezing in this room. I debate about getting up to adjust the thermostat, but I feel like the air outside of my sheets and quilt are too cold to bear, and decide to snuggle in a little deeper, rather than turn up the heat.

            “Don’t stand, don’t stand so, don’t stand so close to me,” my phone sings. It’s totally inappropriate, but the smile that this song brings to my face is wide and genuine. I sneak an arm out from under the covers—Jesus, it’s cold!—and grab my phone from the bedside table, answering it in the process.

            “Hello there,” I say. I hope I sound sexy.

            “Hi baby,” he says, and he sounds happy. My chest swells at the sound of his voice. I somehow feel a little more…whole?

            “How has your day been?” I ask, snuggling further into my sheets, pulling them practically over my head.

            “It’s been good,” he sighs. “I missed you. My family did, too.”

            “I doubt that.”

            “You shouldn’t. My mother thinks you’re quite an incredible young woman, and Emmett couldn’t shut up about you and that damn banjo. Even Rosalie said you’ve got a lot of talent. From her… that’s amazing.”

            I roll onto my side, laughing. “Rosalie said that? Jeeze, I guess it must be true,” I giggle, the sarcasm thick in my voice.

            “I spent some more time with her today, tried to convince her that you weren’t going to turn me into the authorities.”

            “Did she believe you?”

            “No, but I think there’s hope,” he sounds very relaxed, more relaxed than he’s been in days. “They left around 5:00 and at first, I was so relieved but now, it’s strange having an empty house again.”

            “I bet it’s sort of nice.”

            “It would be nicer if you were here with me.”

            I can’t help the smile on my face. “I’m glad you think so.”

            “So what did you think of them?” he asks. His voice…there’s something there. Is he nervous?

            “Your family?”

            “Yes.”

            “Edward, I thought they were wonderful.” I can tell he’s waiting for me to elaborate, so I do. “Your mother is so kind and wonderful, but I can tell she doesn’t take any shit from anyone, and I love that. I was watching her order Rose to have us stay at her house, and I thought she seemed like Superwoman,” I admit.

            Edward laughs loudly on the other end. “She thought you were a take-no-prisoners type of woman too. She respects that.”

            “And Jasper is great, of course. I mean, when I watch him with Alice, I can’t help but blush.”

            “I know what you mean,” he says. “I think we do the same thing to people.”

            “And Emmett really made me feel like a part of the family. Plus he’s so funny. And so different from how I’d expect him to be.”

            “What do you mean?” he asks.

            “Well, I mean, you look at him, this big, burly, professional football player, but then you talk to him and he’s really just like a big teddy bear.”

            “Yeah, he is. When he was little we called him the BFG.”

            I giggle. “That’s perfect!”

            “And I guess you didn’t have much to form an opinion of Rosalie, other than that she’s a nosy, bossy, lawyer.”

            “Actually,” I say, sinking further into my pillow, “while I don’t like what she said, I do like her loyalty to you. She’s obviously protective of you and I get that.”

            “You can say she’s a bitch, Bella. It’s okay. She would.”

            I laugh a little. Apparently my diplomacy is more transparent than I thought. “Okay, she’s a bitch.”

            Edward laughs at this, and it makes me wish I were with him in person right now. “So what did you do today?” he asks.

            “Homework, mostly. Charlie was only awake for the first fifteen minutes I was home, and then he crashed after working all weekend. Really, though, I just sat around, missing you.”

            “Sure you did,” he laughs. “Did Charlie ask you about your weekend at Alice’s?” He knows I don’t like lying to Charlie anymore than I have to.

            “No. Charlie doesn’t usually pry.”

            “That must be nice.”

            “It is.”

            “Are you nervous for tomorrow’s game?” Edward asks. I can hear a TV faintly on in the background, and I wonder if he’s in the living room or his bedroom.

            Am I nervous for tomorrow’s game? A little. I’m nervous to play in front of Edward, always. I’m nervous for Harvard to fly all the way out here and be disappointed. I’m nervous that at any moment, Coach V is going to tell the whole world that she read and photocopied my notebook and will expose Edward and I to the world. “Not really,” I say.

            “I’ll be there, but I have a quick meeting after school, so I may be a little late.”

            I smile. He’s so thoughtful. “That’s okay. If you’re busy you don’t have to come.”

            “Bella, I’m not going to miss your game. I’ll be there.”

            “Okay,” I don’t want to admit how much this relieves me. As nervous as his presence makes me, I’d rather he be there than not any day. “Do you think it’s a good idea for you to come to the games? Will people suspect anything?”

            “I don’t think so,” he says. “I’ve been going to a few soccer games, and I plan to go to the Homecoming football game on Friday, too. I figure if I go to all of them it will just seem like I’m a teacher out supporting his students.”

            Oh. “Is that why you come to my games? To support your students?” I ask, teasingly.

            “To support one student in particular, actually.”

            “Really? Wow. Must be some student,” I laugh.

            “She is, Miss Swan. She is.”

            “So what are you doing now?” I ask.

            “Lying in bed, watching Sports Center.”

            “Charlie would be proud.”

“What are you doing now?” he asks.

            The question, and the way he phrases it, are totally innocent, and yet, of course, I blush. “Snuggling in bed,” I answer softly.

            Edward seems to sense where I’m going with it, because his voice drops, too. “Really? Snuggling with whom?”

            “My quilt. I’m cold.”

            “I’m in my bed too,” he admits, softly.

            “I wish I was in your bed.”

            “Me too.”

            “If you were here…you could warm me up,” I say. It’s been too long since I felt his hands on me. I’ve become an Edward-addict.

            “Hmm…maybe I could do that,” he says. I hear him shifting around on the other end. “How would I warm you up?”

            “I don’t know,” I say. I move my hand down, and let it drift across my belly. “You could wrap your arms around me.”

            “I could do that,” he says. His voice has taken on a new timbre, and it gives me the chills. “What else could I do?”

            “You could run your hands along my body,” I say. My heart is already racing in anticipation of what’s to come.

            “Are you running your hands along your body now?” he asks.

            “Yes.”

            “I want you to run them between your legs.”

            I let out a whimper and do as I’m told, rubbing my palm at the apex of my thighs over my boy-shorts. “Yessss,” I hiss.

            “Hmm…how else could I warm you up?” he asks. I can tell he is touching himself as I listen to the rustles and grunts between his words.

            “Your…your lips,” I suggest. My hand is still working between my legs, causing my legs and arms to tingle.

            “Ah yes, my lips,” Edward says in a deep whisper. “I wish I could run my lips across your body right now, Bella. I want to taste you again, and soon.”

            “Oh, Edward,” I say. My pulse is rising quickly, my hand working feverishly between my legs. “Are you touching yourself?” I already know the answer, but I want to hear him say it.

            “Of course I am,” he grinds out. “The minute I heard your voice my dick was so fucking hard I thought I’d explode.”

            “Fuck, Edward!” I am already over the edge, my body letting its tightly wound coils to spring to life. I heave and pant into the phone as my whole world bursts with light.

            As I work to catch my breath, I notice Edward is still breathing heavily on the other line.

            “What else, Bella? How else could I warm you up?” his words are tight and strained, and my thoughts drift back to him in the shower, stroking himself. I think of the tight line of his jaw as his hand worked up and down, and my head starts to spin.

            “You…your…” I am breathing so heavily I can barely get the words out. “Your cock.”

            “Jesus, Bella, I fucking love listening to you talk that way.”

            “I want your cock inside of me, baby,” I purr. I love knowing I can turn him on.

            “Fuck, Bella. You’re gonna make me come!” he calls out.

            “Yes, baby, please come for me.”

            I listen to a series of swears and grunts from Edward until finally, it is just his breathing that flows into my ear.

            We don’t talk for a while, but just breathe, listening, until finally, I can tell that our inhaling and exhaling is synchronized. I feel a little light-headed, but I’m not as spent as I am after Edward gives me an orgasm himself. Nothing compares to those.

            Finally, after a moment, he sighs. “Did I warm you up?” he asks. I can tell he’s smiling.

            I smile, too. “Absolutely.”

Don't Stand So Close to Me Chapter 19 Outtake: EPOV

EPOV

            I hold the door open for my mother as she follows me out back. Where is Dad? I thought we’d run into him right away, but he’s nowhere in sight. Great.

            We take the steps off the back porch until we’re walking through the wet, lush yard by the creek. What the fuck should I say?

            “Look, Mom,” I begin, but she cuts me off.

            “I don’t know what to say to you right now, Edward. You worked so hard; you spent so much time, so much money to become a teacher. When your father wanted you to go to medical school, you told him it was teaching that was for you. You said you couldn’t imagine doing anything else with your life. You said, ‘I’ve heard the call’. I remember, because I thought it was so poetic at the time,” she shakes her head. “Now I find out you’re dating your student? How important could it have been, Edward? If you’re so passionate about teaching, why are you willing to throw it all away over some girl?”

            “Easy,” I caution. I may be in the wrong, but I’m not going to let her act like Bella is just some lay.

            “I’m just so confused, Edward,” her voice is hurt, but strong. She’s angry. She’s let down. How do I fix this? “What is your plan? How are you going to continue to date Bella and keep your job? Do you realize how unlikely it is that those things will work out?”

            “Unlikely, not impossible,” I remind her.

            “Practically impossible, Edward. You’re playing with fire.”

            “Mom.”

            “No, don’t ‘Mom’ me, like I’m being unreasonable,” she says, her voice rising. “You are dating a girl who is still in high school. You are her teacher. Do you not see how unethical that is? Jesus Christ, is she even 18?”

            “Of course she’s 18,” I roll my eyes. “She’s almost 19.”

            “How did this happen Edward? I need to know. If this happened in school, I need to know, because right now, I don’t even feel like I know who you are.”

            I sigh and look around. God, I hate letting her down. I guess I should just tell it to her from the beginning.

            “Come on,” I say, gesturing toward the trees. “Let’s walk.”

            We head over toward a rustic path that leads into the mountains behind my house. Is that where my Dad went? Maybe. I take a deep breath as we walk, and start talking, “The night before I left Seattle, Jasper and Emmett took me out.”

            “Oh Edward,” my mother replies. What does she think I’m going to say?

            “While at the bar, I saw…” I think back to that night. I was…overwhelmed, to say the least. I remember the way my dick stood up when I first saw Bella across the room, desperately trying to get a drink. I remember how my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest when she first spoke to me. I remember how my skin felt like it was on fire when she first touched me. “I saw Bella and bought her a drink.”

            “Oh for God’s sake, Edward. Now you’re supplying alcohol to minors?” Okay, this is going in the wrong direction.

            I shake my head. “I didn’t know she was underage, Mom. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. She was in the bar, I assumed she was in her twenties and we hit it off. We more than hit it off, Mom, when I saw her…” I stop because honestly, there are no words for how I felt when I saw her. And more than that, there are no words for how I felt when I talked to her, or when I touched her, or when I watched her come…

            I shake my head and look back at my mother, who is staring at me in wonder. “Mom,” I continue. “I had no idea she was my student. When I found out, she was sitting in the fifth row of my class and I tried, Jesus Christ, I tried to stay away from her, Mom. I fucking avoided her, I ignored her, I tried to pretend she didn’t exist. I even went out to the bars again, thinking I could meet someone else. I couldn’t stay away, and it’s not because she’s my student it’s because…it’s because she’s…she’s my Bella,” I plead with her.

            My mother’s eyes are filled with tears. She puts both hands on my face, reaching up to me. I let out a shaky breath. “Oh Edward,” she sighs. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

            I shake my head. I don’t know. I just know that I can’t be without Bella. I just know that within a month I have fallen in love with this sexy, confident, perfect woman. 18 or not, she’s it for me.

            For the next hour, we hike through the hills and I tell her about Bella. I tell her how smart she is—how her thoughts and questions outshine everyone else in class. I tell her how funny she is—how the whole room lights up when she enters it. I tell her how skilled she is—how Ivy League schools fly across the country to watch her in action. I tell her how strong she is—how her own mother abandoned her and yet, she still loves wholly, uninhibitedly. I tell her these things and I hope…I hope that she will see how Bella is the sun, and I’m in a permanent, and irrevocable orbit.

            She doesn’t say a word. When we finally reach the meadow, I stop.

            I should take Bella here. As I look around, I realize that this place embodies everything that is Bella. It’s welcoming, warm, and beautiful. It’s intricate—with details and pieces that cannot be seen by the naked eye. It’s serene. It’s mine.

            “Mom…what are you thinking?” I ask at last.

            She’s found a rock with a flattened head to perch upon, and is gazing out onto the meadow. “I honestly don’t know, Edward.”

            “What do you think I should do?” Even though I’m not sure I want to hear the answer, I need to know what she thinks. I’ve always asked my mother for advice, whether or not I’ve taken heed.

            She looks around, avoiding my eyes. “I don’t know, Edward.”

            “Mom.”

            “Edward, what do you want me to say?” she asks, looking up at me at last. “That I’m happy for you? I’m devastated, Edward. You’re breaking the law. I know Bella is a legal adult, but she’s your student. You are a certified teacher. What you’re doing could end your career and you’ve only just begun!”

            I blink rapidly, looking away from her. I don’t want my mother to see that her disappointment has brought tears to my eyes. “I know,” I whisper.

            “You are a skilled teacher. I remember the things your professors said when you were in school, Edward. They said you were the kind of teacher who would change lives. You could miss the opportunity to do that for hundreds of students because right now, you can’t keep your emotions under control!”

            I take measured breaths, focusing on how my lungs feel as the oxygen enters my body. If I think too greatly about what my mother is saying, I’ll lose it. She’s upset. She’s disappointed. She’s devastated. My mother. The only true parent in my life, and she can hardly look at me.

            “I’m sorry,” I say slowly, and I am. I’m sorry that this situation has made her think less of me. I’m sorry Bella is my student. But I’m not sorry Bella is my Bella. I can’t even remember my life before her.

            “Don’t be sorry, Edward. Because as much as I’m horrified by this situation, I’m also horrified with myself, because deep down, a part of me is…elated.”

            I stare up at her. What?

            “My baby boy has finally found his match. I’ve never seen you like this, Edward. You’re so in love! Honestly, you remind me of how your father and I were when we first met!” her voice has taken on a new tone now, a happier, lighter version of what it was before. She sounds more like my mom again. “As much as I know how wrong it is, I just want to hug you and cry and celebrate that you’ve found love, because it is such a precious, rare thing,” she moves to me then, putting her hands on my face. “You are in the worst of situations, Edward. You’ve found your mate, and yet, society says you have to stay away from her. I don’t know what to say, Edward. I want you to be safe, but I also want you to be happy.”

            “She makes me happy,” I say, and I know how reverential I sound when I say it. It’s true. “And as crazy as it sounds, she makes me feel safe.”

            “She should. Love does,” my mother kisses my cheek. “But you cannot take this situation lightly. You have to be very careful, Edward.”

            “I know.” I do.
            “You need to find a new job.”

            “I know.” I hate to admit it, but she’s probably right.

            “Soon. You need to start looking for openings. It’s still early in the year. You could find something nearby.”

            I nod, but I don’t want to continue this conversation. I know it’s the most logical option. I know I should look for another job, but right now, I don’t want to think about being away from Bella in any way.

            “Will you come and get to know her?” I ask, hopeful.

            She watches me for a moment, before giving me a small smile. “Sure. I already have to remember that I was a bitch to Rosalie when I first met her, I don’t want the same to be true for Bella,” she grins.

            “Yeah, but Rosalie deserved it,” I wink.

            “Let’s go meet your girl.”

            “This way,” I say. My mom takes my arm as we walk down the trail, the earlier pain somewhat lifted. Although she hasn’t said explicitly that she approves of Bella, she understands. She understands the true depth of my feelings, and right now, that’s all I can ask.

            It takes far less time to reach the bottom of the trail than it did to reach the top. As we exit the woods, a flash of blond catches my eye.

            “Carlisle,” my mother calls. “Where have you been?”

            My father is pacing around the yard, hands in his hair. I hate to admit that’s where I get it. He stops at my mothers voice and looks to us. He’s upset. I can tell from his face that he’s stressed, and the faint smell of cigarette smoke is in the air.

            “Where have I been? Where have you been?” he asks her.

            “Out for a walk with Edward. You should have joined us,” she says.

            “Let’s go.”

            “Go where?” she asks. My mother has never been one to be told what to do.

            “Home. I’m not staying here. I’m not going to pretend I’m okay with our son’s lifestyle.”

            “Lifestyle?” I ask. “What lifestyle is that?” How dare my father come to my home and judge me. After all of the years he was gone, how can he pretend to know me?

            “The lifestyle of a pedophile,” he says, his voice cold. I hear my mother gasp next to me. “You’re taking advantage of a child, Edward. That’s what pedophiles do.”

            “Carlisle,” my mother says, “stop that. Edward is not a pedophile. He and Bella are practically the same age.”

            “How can you say that?” he says to her. “Are you pleased with our son’s choice to find a lover in one of his students? It’s disgusting!”

            “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, although it barely comes out, the muscles in my face are so tight.

            “I don’t even know who you are,” he says. “You were going to be a doctor! A doctor! And you give it up to be a teacher—a public school teacher, no less. And as hard as that was for me to swallow, I believed in you, Edward. I believed that you knew what was best for you, and that you wanted to change lives. Now I realize how wrong I was!”

            “How can you judge my relationship with Bella?” I spit.

            “Please, don’t pretend what you have with Bella is a relationship. The word ‘relationship’ implies that it’s with two consenting adults, which this is not. You are abusing your power, Edward, plain and simple. I will not stand by and condone it.”

            “Fuck you!” I cry. I swear I can feel my blood boiling beneath the surface.

            “Carlisle, hear Edward out. He didn’t know she would be his student when they met,” my mother tries to interject, but my father is already backing away, toward the side of the house.

            “I can’t believe you would approve of this, Esme. She’s a child.”

            “She is not a fucking child!” I say, and I realize I sound a bit like one as I yell out. “ALICE is in high school. I don’t see you freaking out about Jasper dating her!”

            “Jasper is still in college,” my father says, as if that explains everything.

            “So was I! Last year, I was in college! But I graduate and now I’m a fucking pedophile?”

            “I have nothing more to say to you. When you’ve realized how dangerous and unethical this situation is, and find someone your own age to date, I’ll deal with you,” he says, continuing to walk away.

            “Carlisle, where are you going?” my mother calls.

            “Home. I’m not staying in this house. Are you coming?” he stops and asks.

            My mother shakes her head, a disappointed look on her face. “No, Carlisle, I’m not coming. I’m going to stay at our son’s house, as planned. You should, too.”

            My father simply shakes his head and, without another word and without looking at me, turns and heads around the house, toward the driveway.

            I don’t even realize it when my legs give out and I drop to my knees. How can one man, who was around so little, have such impact on me? I don’t care about Carlisle; I hardly know him. And yet, why do I feel this rage inside? I want to scream and cry and punch him and drag him back here and make him stay with us. I want him to shut the fuck up and accept Bella and accept me. I hold my head in my hands, trying to slow my breathing.

            I feel my mother’s hands on my shoulders after a moment, rubbing a soothing circuit across my muscles. “He doesn’t mean it, Edward.”

            “Of course he does,” I grind out. He’s always meant it.

            “He will come around. He just needs time to think about this alone.”

            “He won’t come around,” I say. She knows I’m right.

            She doesn’t say anything for a while, and eventually, I feel my heart rate slow and remove my hands from my hair. I can only imagine what it must look like. I feel ten years older, and it’s not even noontime.

            “Come on, I’m sure Bella is worried about you,” my mother says after a moment.

            Bella. Even her name acts like a beacon of hope in this dark, dreary day. On unsteady legs, I rise, desperate to see her again.

To know that what I’m fighting for is real.