For the Summer - 1988

That Time We Almost Got Arrested

1988

A US Postage stamp costs 24 cents.

Columbia records releases Journey's greatest hits album, which remains the band's best-selling record.

George H. W. Bush becomes the first serving Vice President to be elected President of the US since Martin Van Buren in 1836.

...

"So Emmett said you have a boyfriend?" my mom asks as I slam on the brakes and come to a screeching halt on the corner of Tropicana and Las Vegas Blvd.

"When did you talk to Emmett?" I ask her. Emmett and I drive into Vegas one or two weekends a month to see my mom. She bought me a car for my sixteenth birthday, a black VW Rabbit. It's not new but it has air conditioning. We've never had a car with air conditioning before. The only problem is it's a stick. Jacob tried to teach me how to drive it, but I'm still a little jumpy off the clutch.

"He drove up after his finals last week." Emmett took a few finance classes at the Community College in Nevada last semester.

I adjust the radio, trying to find a song I don't despise but all I can find is stupid pop bullshit. Why can't one band on the radio write a decent fricking song?

"It's a green light, Bella," my mom says. I punch the gas as I let off the clutch causing the wheels to spin on the hot pavement. She inhales sharply and digs her manicured nails into the dashboard as I make a quick left and pull into the parking lot of the Tropicana. I park by the door but my mom refuses to leave the car.

"I'm not leaving until you tell me about this boyfriend." She pulls a cigarette from her purse and places it between her painted lips. She lights up, rolls down the window and looks at me expectantly.

"It was just one date. Leah's brother, Seth. We went bowling. Not my boyfriend. Not a big deal." I don't tell her how we made out and when he felt me up, he blew a load all over himself. Then he told everyone at school I was his girlfriend. I had to set him straight and now Leah's pissed at me. He didn't even act that upset, he was scamming on one of the Voltera sisters by lunch period. But Leah acts like I've committed crimes against humanity or something.

Ever since Sam broke her heart last summer, Leah's taken cynical to a whole new level. I think it's a good thing though. Leah had completely resigned herself to living in Willow Cove forever. She was going to marry Sam and help him run the business, but she had to reevaluate her whole life plan. She decided to go back to school and has been living on campus at UNLV. She didn't even come home for Christmas, but now she's back at the marina until school starts to make some extra cash. My dad's letting her stay in one of the motel rooms, which is going to cost him but she can't go home, not with Emily and the new baby living there and she can't afford to rent for four months so my dad's giving her a break.

"And what about Jacob? Is he still trying to woo you?" my mom teases, flicking the ash from her cigarette out the window. She knows I hate this topic.

I've been trying really hard not to think about Edward this year. I went on a couple dates, mostly guys from my photography class, but sometimes I see something on television or hear a song on the radio and it reminds me of him. Every time I think about Edward, I think about how I will never be able to do the silly high school shit with him. He'll never walk me to class or carry my books. He'll never ditch school with me to go get a soft serve at the Dairy Burger. He'll never take me on a first date or to a Friday football game, or let me wear his letterman jacket. And he'll never take me to prom.

So when Jacob asked me Junior prom, I said yes. I had heard Journey's Don't Stop Believin' on the radio that morning, track number seven on my Songs That Remind Bella of her Super Awesome Friend Edward mixtape and I was missing Edward so much I couldn't breathe. I was mad at him for having this power over me and mad at myself for letting him. I don't know why I said yes. Maybe it was spite or fear or pain or to prove to myself that Edward doesn't control my life. Whatever the reason, I said yes to Jacob.

Jacob's actually pretty popular in school. The girls think he's hot, the guys think he's a badass. He rides a dirt bike and his brothers' reputation makes him look way cooler than he really is. Anyway, Jacob usually goes out with wastoids and stoners so I was shocked he asked me. I thought he hated me. Turns out I'm just completely clueless.

My mom bought me a dress with lace and satin and puffy sleeves. I curled and teased my hair, just like it said to do in Cosmo and contemplated cutting bangs for a millisecond. Jacob wore a tuxedo and brought me a corsage and I brought my Polaroid and snapped pictures of the crepe papered extravaganza in all its glory. Jacob smoked pot with his friends behind the gymnasium and drank whiskey from a flask he carried in his pocket and then he tried to teach me how to slow dance.

Everything was fine and then that song came on. That fricking Styx song, number three on my mixtape, Lady. I freaked out. I wanted it to be Edward so bad that I wrapped my arms around Jacob's neck and I buried my face in his shoulder and I pretended. I imagined it was Edward's shoulder my lips were pressed against, his hair I was running my fingers through, his hands sliding over the small of my back.

And then Jacob kissed me, a sloppy, wet kiss with tongue and not one tenth the care and tenderness that Edward's kisses contain. This shocked me back into reality, and then all I could feel were Jacob's big clumsy hands groping my ass and his hot breath on my ear as he slurred the lyrics, forever ruining the song for me. I hated myself. I was disappointed I said yes and disgusted that I pretended he was Edward. I shouldn't have done that. One little splinter in my shield and I was completely exposed and it hurt. I spent the next half hour in the bathroom falling apart and then putting myself back together. Luckily, Jacob had gone out to toke up again and didn't even notice I was gone.

He's asked me out three times since then and every time I make up some excuse. I have homework. I have to go to my mom's. I have to work. I just don't like Jacob like that. I barely like Jacob as a friend. And he doesn't like me, not really. He just thinks he should.

"Jacob's relentless," I mumble, collapsing onto the steering wheel. "I don't know what to do, Mom."

"Just be honest, honey. Jacob likes you because you're a wonderful person. It's nice that he cares so much." My mom runs her fingers through my hair and I want to argue with her. I don't want it to be nice. I don't want Jacob to like me because I can never return the gesture. I can never be what he wants me to be.

Because deep down, under the shell, blooming within the cocoon, no matter how much I try to deny it, I know in my heart I already belong to someone else. Someone who is waiting for me at the marina right now.

"Next time you should bring your friend, the one from Washington. I'd like to meet him," my mom hints. She takes another long draw from her cigarette and exhales out the window. "Is he in town yet?"

"Yeah, his family got here a couple hours ago," I say quietly. I saw the Cullens drive into the marina as I was leaving but I was already running late. I had to haul ass to get here in time for my mom's lunch break and I've been sitting in a stew of dread and anxiousness ever since. As much as I'm dying to see him, I am determined not to let Edward seduce me. We're friends and that's it. That's enough. No kissing, no dry humping, no boob massaging of any kind. I cannot let my wall down for one second unless I want a repeat of this past year's depraved existence. It's better this way, detached and guarded. No obligations, no expectations, no pain.

"You should drive up for the Fourth! We can have a barbeque and watch the fireworks. You can see the show on the strip from my backyard," my mom says before checking her watch. She flicks what remains of her cigarette out the window and grabs her purse in a hurry. "We'll talk later sweetheart, I'm gonna be late. Thanks for having lunch with me."

My mom kisses me on the cheek, her lipstick waxy on my skin before dashing into the glitzy building. I wipe my cheek and watch her leave, her helmet hair bobbing as she walks and I think about her invitation. I can't imagine bringing Edward to meet my mom in Vegas. The marina's like our little bubble of safety, where everything makes sense and is as it should be. I don't know what our relationship is outside of Willow Cove, and this makes me uncomfortable.

Oh hell, who am I kidding? I don't know what our relationship is inside of Willow Cove.

I speed back to the marina, slowing to an unbearable 25 mph through town before zipping along the uneven pavement. The cops in town are real sticklers for speed limits. I guess that's what happens when you're a police officer in a town with a population of less than five hundred. You find shit to do.

I don't even bother going home first. I park my car beside the big black Mercedes and hurry up the steps to the front door. Three swift raps later, Edward's standing before me, his strong jaw covered in stubble, his hair scruffy around his ears and neck and he smiles. I feel my heart soften and I frown. This is going to be more difficult than I thought.

Edward slips his feet into a pair of thongs by the front door and I turn and start walking to the swings, to our spot where maybe things will feel better and I'll know what to say.

The minute Edward slides his hand into mine, I realize my whole plan is fucked. His hand is warm and gentle as our fingers twine. It's just holding hands. Friends can hold hands, right?

I let him lead. He doesn't say a word, just throws me sly glances over his shoulder every so often. He pulls me into the Laundromat, and then his mouth is on my mine and I drink him in eagerly, losing myself in the way he touches me and the way he tastes, a sweet relief to the nagging ache that's been plaguing me all year. His fingers slide beneath the hem of my tank top and I melt, my whole body exhaling as he wraps around my waist, his arms pressing into my bare skin. For one moment, everything makes sense.

And then I remember my wall and I pull away. That was not a friend kiss. That was an oh my God my lady parts are pulsing kiss, exactly what I was trying to avoid. I hop onto the counter to put some space between us. Okay, so, touching is off limits. Besides, he's not going to really want to touch me after I tell him about Seth and Jacob. Especially Jacob.

Edward stares at the floor, his hand running through his hair, the fluorescent lights catching the red and making it glow against his pale skin. I focus on the tiny scatter of freckles across his nose, his eyelashes feathered on his cheekbones and it takes every ounce of strength I posses to not call him over to me.

I need to say something, the silence like thick cream in the hot room, curdled and stinking to high heaven.

"I went on a date with Leah's brother," I blurt out. Edward peers up at me and folds his arms across his chest before shifting his eyes back to the floor. "And I went to prom with Jacob. And he kissed me."

Edward doesn't move. He's quiet for a long time and I wait.

"I know," Edward says finally and I look at him, confused.

"Emmett. He writes Rose letters, calls her on the phone sometimes," he says quietly and I'm completely taken aback. And furious. I do not like my brother gossiping about my love life.

"What?" I ask, dumbfound.

This also means that Edward could have called me, could have written me letters, but he didn't.

I have to admit, the rejection stings.

"Wait, what?" I ask again and a smile spreads across Edward's face. The thought of them having a good laugh at my pathetic excuse for a love life is just maddening. Betrayed by my own brother? I'm going to kill him!

"It's okay, Bella. I'm not mad or anything," Edward says and I snort.

"Good, because you shouldn't be," I say, my voice snotty as all hell and I don't care. This hasn't even begun to make sense in my brain but all I can think of is how stupid I feel, thinking Edward would be upset, thinking what we have is anything more than just a fling.

"I just meant that I don't expect anything. I don't want you to feel restricted by me. You're allowed to be with other people. And so am I," he adds quietly.

"Oh, well, I'm glad I have your permission," I say sarcastically. I'm still irritated Edward knows everything and I know nothing. It's so not fair.

"I slept with this chick I go to school with, Lauren," Edward says suddenly. I blink, my mind completely numb.

"By slept with, you mean…" I trail off, confused.

Edward's eyes burn into mine, smoldering and oozing exactly what he means. Sex.

"Oh," I gasp, the wind knocked right out of me. My pulse races and I grip the counter. I can't fucking breathe! Oh God, I'm going to pass out.

No, Bella, box it up. Close it off. Detach.

"It was awful," Edward continues. "I was completely blitzed out of my mind and it was a total mistake."

"It's okay, I'm not mad or anything," I lie. I lie like a son-of-a-bitch.

"I wanted it to be you," he whispers and I inhale sharply as he walks towards me, conflicting emotions raging through my body. This is so wrong. I want to yell at him, tell him that it never will be, not now, not ever but I can't find my voice.

Besides, I'm not even sure I believe that one myself.

"I still want it to be you." Edward's voice is smooth and low and my wall crumbles, a mere pile of dust his declaration tramples and kicks into the air.

His hands grip my waist, his hips slide between my knees and he closes the space between us. And I let him.

Just for the summer, just for the summer, just for the summer, I chant in my head as his mouth closes over mine and pulls from me the last ounce of willpower I have left.

…

"Oh shit, you're a Republican?" Emmett says, exasperated as he leans back in his folding chair on the sandy cove. My dad's hunched over the small portable gas grill, poking at the meat patties sizzling over the flame. Like always, he insists on getting a cove for the Fourth of July. No fireworks again. I swear, one of these fricking days I'm going to see some damn fireworks. I point my camera at my brother and he sticks his tongue out at me as I snap the picture. The camera buzzes and spits out the soggy gray picture, the chemical smell I now equate with anticipation as I wait for the photo to appear. A couple minutes later, there he is, my brother against the backdrop of brush, his smart-ass face forever captured on the small rectangle of paper.

"No, I said I'd vote for Bush. I don't believe in political parties. A politician is a politician. They're all just puppets, their strings being pulled by the more substantial powers at hand," Rose says, pushing her glasses up off the tip of her nose. Alice rolls her eyes and turns over on her towel beside me. She pulls the straps off her shoulders, so she won't have tan lines before folding her arms under her chin.

"Oh no, I guess the wedding's off," Edward whispers in my ear, his hand on the small of my back and I stifle a giggle.

"And who might these substantial powers at hand be?" Emmett asks skeptically.

"Those who control the majority of the wealth," Rose answers as if it's completely obvious.

"So, you mean the Republicans," Emmett quips. "Face it, babe, you're sucked into their bipartisan brainwash just as much as the rest of us. Frankly, I don't trust the government."

"Emmett!" my dad scolds, pulling the cigarette from between his lips. "Don't say shit like that. It's Fourth of July, God damn it. It's unpatriotic."

"Actually, one could argue that at its root, his statement is very patriotic. I mean, isn't that what our founding fathers did over two hundred years ago? Questioned their government?" Rose challenges.

My dad squints at Rose lounging in her chair, her wide brimmed hat shading her face from the hot July sun. Rose is some sort of stunning. I mean, besides being wicked smart, she's got the body of a supermodel. Her golden hair tumbles across her shoulders in thick waves. Her legs are long and shapely, her thin waist offset by the voluptuous curve of her hips, and a rack that makes me blush. She's just so confident, lounging in her green halter one-piece swimsuit and challenging my dad on politics of all things. I can totally see why Emmett is so attracted to her.

"Yeah, Emmett's a regular Thomas Jefferson," my dad replies and motions to the ice chest. "Hey, hand me one of them beers there, Bells."

I dig around in the chest, looking for the red and white can, and take the Budweiser to him. I wipe the sweat from the back of my neck and forehead. Man, I am melting out here. The heat rolls off my body, my face and shoulders tight and itchy and it's time for a swim.

I wade out into the bay and dunk my head, the water meandering through my hair bringing sweet relief to my overheated scalp. I swim until I am surrounded by silence, calm, peaceful silence nestled between the walls of sediment and rock, the layers of reds and oranges and browns exposed from eons of erosion. This all started as a stream, a slow, persistent trickle of water forcing the hard, packed earth to crumble and soften into the silt beneath my toes.

"Beautiful." Edward's voice makes me jump. Water beads on the bridge of his nose, his wet hair dripping in his eyes and I'm overwhelmed by how handsome he is. I want this moment captured so I can keep him with me all year long.

"I know. Look at the rocks. You see that, the layers? Can you believe you are looking at something that has been here for literally millions of years? Can you imagine what those rocks have seen?" I float on my back, the bright sun forcing me to close my eyes. The water ripples around me, a ghost of a touch on my arm, my shoulder, caressing my face and pulling through my hair. A shadow hovers above me and I lift my lids to find Edward's fire hair and dancing eyes, his lips pulled into an astonished smile.

"Not the rocks, you goon," he laughs. "You. You're beautiful."

Beautiful. Full of beauty. Not just a pretty face, not just a physical appeal, but he thinks I'm full of beauty. It is the greatest compliment anyone has ever given me.

He licks his lips as his hand reaches through the water to wrap around my wrist. He pulls me into the deep water behind my father's boat. Weaving his arm around my waist, he pulls my body to his and kisses me gently. There's nothing but a thin layer of swimsuit separating our skin and the thought of my bare breasts against his chest prompts me to deepen the kiss, our tongues twisting in a soft and forceful connection. Edward's hands crawl across my back and I wrap my legs around his waist. His eyes widen, his lips still but I don't care. He can't call me beautiful and kiss me like that and expect me to behave myself.

"What? Is this not okay?" I ask, my heart pounding in my chest, my arms wrapped around his neck.

"It's okay. Shocking, a little, but it's definitely okay," he grins. I run my hands through his damp hair and I pull myself tighter to him, my lips pressed into the wet skin of his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. I don't like the way I need him, the way I want him here always. This is precisely my reasoning for the no touching rule, and now it's all gone straight to hell.

My brain won't shut up. I wonder if he thinks that Lauren girl is beautiful. I wonder if he kissed her like he kisses me. I wonder what it's like to have sex with Edward, it's all I can think about. I'm jealous someone else was close to him, closer than I've ever been. I want to be that close to him. I want to feel him like she did, so that I will once again be his number one, his favorite.

I kiss Edward again, hungry and determined as I run my hands over his chest, my finger grazing one of his nipples and I hear him moan a little in my mouth. He liked that. I do it again, the hardened flesh under my thumb and Edward gasps, his mouth moving to my chin and then to my neck, his lips nibbling on my earlobe and I squeeze my thighs tight around his waist. Pleasure and pain both begin to stir between my legs and I need the friction. Edward's mouth moves to my shoulder and then to my chest, his tongue grazing the ripple of bones there. His hand slides up to press into one of my breasts, pulling at the peak through my thin suit and I thank God I didn't get the suit with the padding. He stares into my eyes, his finger hook in the strap on my shoulder and he slowly lowers it, his eyes on mine the whole time. The water floods around my bare breasts and I press my forehead to his and try to focus on breathing.

"Fuck," Edward growls, his fingers tracing the tan lines over the swell of my chest and I'm panting. He lifts me out of the water, the air on my nipples causes them to tighten, and all I can think is please put it in your mouth, please, oh please oh please, lick my nipple. I never thought I would ever want a boy to put his mouth on my boob.

But this isn't just a boy, it's Edward. And he's everything.

His kisses my breast and I gasp, the sensation causing me to writhe against his waist. The sight of it is just so beautiful, his red lips moving across the pale white skin, skin that has never been exposed to the hot desert sun before. I watch his mouth move as he sucks and swirls his tongue around my nipple and I just can't get close enough. I tighten my legs and grind my hips against him but with every press, I need him more, harder, faster, more, whatever, I just need him.

"You're heart, it's pounding," Edward whispers and I try to catch my breath. His hands skim over my behind and down my thighs and I close my eyes as his fingers graze between my legs. I moan and my body trembles as a whole new wave of heat boils through my veins.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"It's shocking," I say, mimicking his words. "But definitely okay."

"Can I touch you again?" Edward murmurs against my neck, his lips smoothing over my flushed, wet skin. I nod, finding his lips and pulling him into my mouth. I'm already gasping when his fingers press into the lyrca of my swimsuit. He presses into the sensitive flesh, his lips still moving with mine, his arm wrapped low around my waist and my head starts to get fuzzy.

I trail my hands down his chest and over the long lean muscles of his stomach. Edward's hand pauses for a millisecond as his eyes roll back in his head, and whispered profanities slip from his beautiful mouth against mine. His hand moves faster and harder and pressure begins to build deep in my belly, like an electric current reading to burst. My fingers glide just under his waistband and they're met with silky flesh, and I gasp. Holy shit, I just touched him. I just touched it and it's soft and smooth and so warm.

"Bella!" he breathes. His fingers push aside the elastic of my swimsuit and he's rubbing me, and only me, circling the slick flesh as my hips squirm against his hand. It's almost unbearable, too sensitive in some spots and so unbelievably good in others.

"Oh, Holy fucking Moses!" I moan loudly, my legs quivering around his waist.

"Shhh," he whispers with a smile and I'm burning to feel more.

I slide my hand into his swim trunks and wrap my fingers around him as he gasps. He's so warm, and there's hair and it's soft and I revel in the contradiction of smooth and hard, like silk on marble. I stroke along the length over and over just feeling Edward, holding Edward, knowing Edward.

"Edward," I pant, unable to control my breathing and desperate for some kind of relief from the deep ache. "Put your fingers inside me."

"Bella, oh God, stop! I'm gonna come," Edward gasps into my neck as his body rolls and pitches, his hardness pulsing in my palm beneath the surface of the water. The way Edward's face looks as he falls apart in my hand is truly full of beauty. I'm about to kiss him again when we hear the buzz of a boat engine turn towards our cove. We instantly separate and try to compose ourselves as Dr. and Mrs. Cullen idle up to the shore. We swim over to catch the boat, pretending we weren't just fondling each other under the protective blanket of the water. Edward gives me a sly grin, and I roll my eyes but to be honest, I've never felt so powerful in all my life.

I make Edward feel good, I make him breathe my name. Even if it's just for the summer.

…

"Bella! Stop groping your boyfriend and get back to work!" I hear Leah yell from the front of the store and I freeze, trying to ignore Edward sucking on my lip. He pushes his hips into mine, pinning me against the concrete wall and I moan into his mouth before pushing him away, a coy smile on his lips.

"You're destroying my productivity," I say, grabbing a box of chip bags.

"Screw your productivity, you shouldn't even be here. You should be out on the water with me," Edward says as he takes the box from my arms. I sigh and grab two more boxes, before heading back out into the store.

Leah is perched behind the counter on a stool, a large novel in her hand, her leg bouncing as she reads.

"He's not my boyfriend," I mumble to her as I set the boxes on the floor and she snorts, the beginning of a loud laugh that she exaggerates on purpose.

"What's it like?" Leah asks.

"What do you mean?" I ask hesitantly. I'm almost positive this is a set-up, but my curiosity overrides my common sense.

"Living in denial. Is it really as blissful as they say?" Leah smirks.

"Get bent, Leah," I say in a hushed voice. I glance over my shoulder to see Edward haphazardly restocking the chips in the snacks aisle, his focus on us instead. He quickly looks away and accidentally drops a bag of chips when I catch him eavesdropping. I bite my lip, suppressing a grin.

I look back at Leah and her face is stone, her gray eyes chilling as she stares at me. She doesn't say another word, just sets her book down and pulls a pack of cigarettes off the shelf behind the counter. She steps outside, pulling the wrapped tobacco from the carton and a lighter from her pocket and soon she's engulfed in haze. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest, her eyes focused on the sky as she smokes.

Emily had her baby in March, a little girl she named Claire. Claire Black. She dropped out of school and is working reception at the Black's storage place. Yesterday, Sam proposed. He's going to buy a mobile home in town and move Emily and the baby in as soon as possible. Leah's not taking it too well.

Edward's arms weave around my waist from behind and fold around my stomach as his lips press into my neck. "What were you arguing about?" he murmurs, his breath tickling my skin.

"Nothing, it's not important," I sigh and we watch Leah quickly light another cigarette.

"Hey! Emmett said something about checking out the Tracker's place? We should do that tonight," Edward says just as I see my dad walking up the sidewalk and instantly Edward's arms disappear from around my waist.

"Chicken shit," I laugh and he shrugs and leans against the counter. My dad pats Leah on the shoulder before walking into the store. His mustache twitches as he glances between the two of us.

"Hi Dad," I say as inconspicuously as possible. My dad's not an idiot. I'm pretty sure he knows there's something going on between us, but I think it's better if he thinks Edward and I are just friends. Really, really good friends. We're not dating, we're not boyfriend and girlfriend, we're not "seeing" each other. We just are. And that's really hard to explain to my old-fashioned dad.

"Hey kids, how's it goin'?" my dad mutters as he walks over to the cash register. He punches a couple buttons, checks the tape and pulls the bills from the tray, zipping them up in a black vinyl bag. All the while, his eyes are darting to Edward, then me, then back to the register.

"Edward, why don't you go take a swim," my dad says. Edward looks at me in confusion and I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't mind staying," Edward says confidently.

"Get out of here, kid. Go enjoy your vacation," my dad says in a cool voice and Edward hesitantly moves toward the door.

"I'll see you later, Bella," he mumbles before stepping outside and taking off down the sidewalk.

"What the hell, Dad?" I ask, exasperated.

"He doesn't need to be hanging around here all the time. This is a business, and you are my employee. You don't need any distractions." My dad's voice is matter-of-fact and cold, and this pisses me off to no end.

"I am not business," I argue. "I'm your daughter and Edward's practically family."

"Edward is a guest, a Pay Check, Bella. I know you've sort of adopted him and he's a nice kid, but he is not your family. You're family is here, at the marina." I start to argue but my dad doesn't give me the chance.

"Edward isn't to be hanging around at the store while you're working anymore." His tone of voice tells me this topic is not up for debate.

"But Dad, that's comp-" I try to explain but he cuts me off.

"This discussion is closed," he says definitively. "Look, I'm sorry honey, but it's for the best."

It's just so unfair! I hate this job. I hate this marina. I hate that my dad thinks he knows what's best for me and most of all, I hate that he called Edward a Pay Check. Tears stir beneath my lashes as I stare into his cold, hard gaze. Do not cry, Bella. Don't you fucking dare.

He kisses me on the forehead as Leah walks back into the store. With a turn, he's gone and I'm left here alone. With Leah. For the rest of the stinking summer.

I spend the next hour breaking down boxes in the stockroom, visualizing my dad's face as I punch the boxes with my fist. I gather up the shreds of cardboard and haul them to the dumpster outside, tossing them into the bin with gusto.

"Hey." I spin around and see Edward grinning by the back door. "So I take it things didn't go well."

"You can't hang around the store anymore." I kick the side of the dumpster, my toe stinging a little at the impact.

"I figured. We can still hang out after and on days you don't have to work, right?" Edward asks and I nod. "Then it's okay."

"No it's not. He just cut our time together in half," I say bitterly. Edward ambles over to me deviously and kisses my cheek.

"Let's go do something," he says in a smooth voice and my heart flips in my chest.

"I'm working." This is how it's going to be for the rest of the summer: Edward wanting to do stuff, and me not being able to. Fricking suck-o-rama.

"Tell Leah you're sick. Meet me back here and we'll go on the lam, like mint jelly." Edward's eyes sparkle a deep, devious green.

"But my dad-"

"He won't be coming back to the store. And he won't expect you home for another two hours." It's true, my dad never comes back to the store once he's cleaned out the register. It's all the persuading I need.

I stumble into store, holding my gut as I use the counter for support. Leah eyes me suspiciously and I cringe, pretending I don't see her watching.

"What's the matter with you?" she asks.

"Nothing, I'm fine," I say, turning away from her.

"Cramps?" Leah asks and I freeze. Why didn't I think of that? It's the perfect cover! My dad isn't going to ask me about lady plumbing problems, even if he does come back.

"I just started. I feel like I'm being ripped in half." I clutch at my stomach again, probably a little too overdramatically but Leah just shrugs.

"Just go home," she orders me and I want to cheer, but I force myself to look crampy.

"I think I will," I say in a pitiful voice and Leah goes back to her cleaning. I slip out the door and meet Edward out back by the dumpster and we run towards the hiking trail that winds along the cliffs close to the marina. Once we're hidden from view, we hike down to the water to swim. We make out on the shore, a wet, muddy, writhing tangle of groping arms and legs and I'm just so happy to be free of the store, of the marina and my father. It's just me and Edward out here and for two hours, we're all that matters.

Eventually, we head back to Edward's place to see if Emmett's still planning on taking the girls to the old Tracker's place. The rundown Victorian mansion is a big white house with terraces and gables out in the middle of nowhere. Kids at school say the Trackers were serial killers and that there's an underground secret passageway that leads to the river, in case they had to get the hell out of dodge.

Mrs. Cullen is curled up on the couch and engulfed in a large novel, a pair of glasses perched on the tip of her nose. Dr. Cullen is seated at the small dinette set. The table's a scattered mess of documents, books and charts, and he's pecking away at an electric typewriter. She looks up at me and smiles as I walk in the door and I feel like I haven't seen them all summer.

"Hey kids! Bella, you just missed your brother. He took the girls for a cart ride," Mrs. Cullen says.

"Did they say where they were going?" I ask and Mrs. Cullen purses her lips.

"I think I overheard something about trackers? Does that sound familiar?" She pushes her glasses up her nose and I smile. Jackpot!

"Um, yeah. It's a historical site, a little ways up the road," I fudge, not wanting to get us in trouble.

"I'm gonna change and then we're going to go find them, is that okay?" Edward asks his dad but Dr. Cullen just keeps typing, obviously engrossed in his work. Mrs. Cullen looks nervously at her husband as Edward waits to be acknowledged by his father. "Dad? Is that okay?"

"Huh?" Dr. Cullen tilts his head, typing a few more letters before finally seeing his son. "What? Yeah, sure, have fun."

"Yeah, thanks," Edward mutters and walks down the small hall to a door that must be his room.

I sit awkwardly in the chair opposite the couch and wait as the clack, clack, clack of Dr. Cullen's typewriter fills the dead air. Mrs. Cullen returns to her book, her eyebrows creased and worried.

When Edward returns, he's wearing a pair of chino shorts and a polo shirt and there's a twist in my gut. These are Seattle clothes, not river clothes.

"Ready?" he asks quietly and I nod, following him out of the door. Once we're outside, Edward weaves his fingers with mine and for a minute, because apparently I hate myself, I pretend we're actually a couple. His white polo shirt gnaws at my fantasy and I can't help the frown that pulls at my lips when I see it. It's a reminder. Edward is not mine.

"Why do you hate this shirt?" he asks.

"I don't hate that shirt," I respond, irritated with myself for being so transparent.

"Yes you do. You always make that face when I wear it," he presses.

"What face? I do not make a face." I deny it. I deny it with all my heart.

"You totally make a face," Edward chuckles. "It's kind of like…" His lip curls up in a snarl, he crosses his eyes and pretends to puke.

"I never make that face," I laugh. "We have to get a cart. I don't want to risk going home to get my car and it's too far to walk. We can use one from the marina." I shake my wrist, the keys dangling from the cord and Edward smiles, sly mischief spreading across his face.

"You're quite the rebel tonight, Miss Swan," Edward remarks. "Ditching work, and stealing a cart."

"It's not stealing if I have the keys. It's borrowing without consent," I clarify as we approach the backside of my dad's office. The lights are out so I know my dad's already left. I unplug the cart and roll up the cord before turning the key. Edward gets in beside me and I put the electric cart in reverse, the wheels spinning in the gravel as I back away from the building.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Edward asks, clutching the roof of the cart.

"Relax, this cart only goes about twenty miles per hour. If you fall out, just tuck and roll," I respond and Edward laughs as we drive off to find my brother.

We drive along the dark, vacant road in silence, only a sliver of moon to light our way. It's eerily quiet, and the hum of the electric motor and the spinning of the rubber wheels on the cracked pavement keeps me distracted. The air is thick with moisture and it smells like a storm is coming. I'm starting to get a little creeped out, but I don't want to look like a wuss in front of Edward so I remain silent until we arrive at the old house. The front is a junk yard, old trucks and rusty shells of cars, tires, old mattresses, just a ton of shit littering the lot. I can see the other cart parked on the side and I sigh in relief, feeling more confident now that I know my brother's here.

Edward and I walk up to the front door. It's cracked open, a quiet murmur of voices inside and I motion to Edward to be quiet. He catches on and we sneak in through the door. The house is hot and musty and smells of mildew mixed with the remnants of parties past, the alcohol and cigarette smoke soaked into the walls. Edward slides his hand along my back and over my hip, trying to find my hand in the pitch black room and my heart races at his touch. If we're going to sneak up on Emmett, Edward's going to have to stop touching me. My heart rattling against my rib cage is totally going to give us away.

We inch towards the whispering voices, a skunky smell drifting through the house. They're smoking weed. It won't take much to freak them out. I see a beam of light flash in our direction and their voices silence. They've heard something.

I slowly drag my nails against the wall. No doubt Emmett's theatrics have gotten the girls good and antsy. I hear a panicked voice, probably Alice and then another. I can feel Edward laughing, his face falling into the back of my shoulder. I do it again, and this time Edward's hand thuds and drags against the hollow plaster.

"Let's get the fuck out of here, this isn't fun anymore," Alice says, her voice increasing in volume as she approaches the hallway where we're hiding.

"Alice, wait," I hear Rose now, her footsteps getting louder as well, followed by the heavy thudding of my brother, I'm sure.

"Oh, let her go." Jacob? Shit, what is Jacob doing here? And where's my brother?

Suddenly, a massive form grabs me from behind and I scream at the top of my lungs, my heart pounding in my chest and overwhelmed with panic. I clutch to Edward as he curses and tries to pull me away from whatever is trying to abduct me. I'm still screaming, my eyes clenched tightly when I realize someone is calling my name.

"Bella! Bella, open your eyes!"

"Maybe you should slap her."

"Fuck off, Rose."

It's Edward's voice that pulls me from my state of hysterics and I open one eye to find my brother gripping my shoulders and grinning at me like an idiot.

"Of all the stupid, fucking, asshole, shithead things you could do," I say bitterly as I smack at him with each insult. "I almost had a heart attack! How did you know it was us?"

"We heard you walking across the gravel," Emmett laughs and I try to hit him again but he grabs my wrist to block the blow. He's been drinking too, I can smell the beer on his breath. "Come on, Bella! That was classic."

"You're still an asshole," I mutter, irritated he made me scream like a banshee.

"You're still a wuss," Emmett remarks.

"So, what were you guys doing before you decided to try to kill me with bloodcurdling panic?" I ask, yanking my arm away from him and trying to change the subject.

"Summoning the dead," Alice says and I raise my eyebrows.

"What?" I ask her.

"She," Rose points accusingly at Alice, "brought a Ouija Board."

"It's just for fun," Alice defends, her hands on her hips. She must have seen Dirty Dancing this past year because she's dressed just like Baby in jean cut-offs and a white collared shirt knotted in the front and baring her tiny midriff. She's even wearing white Keds.

"Of course it is, it's a toy. It's made by Parker Brothers for Christ's sake," Edward remarks sarcastically.

"Where is it?" I ask, looking around and Alice grabs my hand and pulls me through the low doorway into the other room. There's a large stone fireplace on one of the walls and the light from the sliver of moon can barely get through the grimy windows. The board is on the floor next to an unopened six pack of beer. Alice sits on the floor by the board and I do the same. She hands me one of the unopened beers and I pop it open, but my brother snags it from my hand.

"I don't think so, sis," Emmett says, before taking a big swig. "You're underage."

"We're all underage," I contend but Emmett shakes his head and chugs the rest of my beer, crushing the can and tossing it in the corner with the others.

"Okay, everyone touch the pointer thing" Alice instructs and Rose is the first to comply, then Jacob and even Emmett sits down and folds his long legs. I look up at Edward, expecting him to play but he just stares out the window.

"Edward?" I ask but he shakes his head.

"No thanks," he scowls. Geez, what's got his feathers ruffled?

"Okay, then we ask it a question, and see where it goes. Don't put any pressure on your fingers. You're supposed to just let them rest on the plastic pointer thingy and see what it says," Alice finishes explaining. "Alright, ask it a question."

"Will I get laid this weekend?" Jacob asks obnoxiously and I abandon the game. I'd rather find out why Edward's upset.

"What? It's a legitimate question," Jacob scoffs at me for leaving.

"Yeah, one we all already know the answer to," I respond coolly.

"I know, how about, will Bella's dad find out she ditched work to go fool around with a boy?" Jacob sneers and I want to wring his stupid neck. Dammit! How the hell does he know that?

"You ditched the store?" Emmett asks and I shrug.

"So? What, like you've never ditched work before?" I accuse.

"No, I haven't," Emmett snaps.

"Kill the lights. It's the 5-O!" Edward interrupts frantically. "They look like they're slowing down in front of the house.

I peek out the window to see Officer Aro's police car slowly creeping past the house. We have to get out of here. We have to get out now. He's going to turn around and come back and my father is going to kill me!

"It's Aro," I panic. "Get out! Go out the back!"

We scatter, stumbling around in the dark and once outside we split up. Edward stays with me and we creep along the side of the house, looking for a hiding place. Suddenly, we hear the crunch of gravel under tires in the front drive. Shit, fuck, shit, son-of-a-bitch!

Edward motions to an old, rusty truck. Shit, he wants to hide there. I hear the slam of a car door, feet marching through gravel and we sneak towards the truck just as he opens the door and walks inside the house.

My heart races as I quickly climb into the back of the truck. I lay flat in the small space as Edward climbs in behind me. The bed is covered in a filthy tarp and my shirt saturates with warm, rusty mud. I hope to high heaven I won't need a tetanus shot when this night is through. I don't even want to think about the snakes or spiders or rodents that probably live here. My only solace is that maybe the hot sun has made the space uninhabitable.

Unless you're running from the cops, then it's perfectly inhabitable.

I look over at Edward beside me and I try not to laugh at the mess we're in. With any luck, Aro will see that no one is here and book it before any of us are found. Then I think of the empty beer cans and the house reeking of weed and I begin to panic, my chest heaving with frenzied gasps. Edward's hand smoothes over my stomach and comes to rest between my breasts, right over my heart.

"Shhhh," he whispers into my ear, his lips on my lobe and then my neck and I feel a surge of warmth seep through my body. Oh God, what a distraction.

I turn my head to catch his mouth, trying to remain as silent as possible as we kiss. His hand moves with slow, languid caresses over my breasts, stomach, hip and then between my legs.

"Well, what do we have here?" A bright light blinds as Edward's hand disappears and I squint to see the uniformed silhouette, a MAG light held high overhead as he grins, the white gleam of his teeth causing my stomach to roll.

"Fuck," Edward mutters beside me.

Yep, my sentiments exactly.

…

Dad paces as I sit on the couch, my thumb trying to erase a smudge of grease on my palm. He hasn't said anything since Officer Aro left. Aro didn't arrest us, thank God, and he didn't find any of the others. He assumed Edward and I were the only ones out there. He also assumed we were responsible for all the empty beer cans. But Officer Aro knows my dad so instead of taking us to the station, he dropped us off at the marina. He made Edward sit in the cruiser while he explained to my dad how he found us trespassing and now I am in trouble for so many reasons, I don't even know which one to explain first.

"Dad, I swear, we weren't drinking," I plead, hoping I sound convincing.

My dad runs his hand over his jaw before placing them on his hips, his eyes squint, like he's trying to figure this out. And then the mustache twitches.

"Do not lie to me, little girl. I know everything that goes on at my marina. Everything. I know you skipped out early from work. You stole a cart to do God-only-knows-what with that boy, and then you broke into an abandoned house to get drunk." My dad is furious and hot angry tears start to build behind my lids.

"That boy is my best friend," I say defensively. "And I left work early because I had been there all day and I was sick of it."

"It's work, of course you were sick of it. What the hell are you doing, Bella? I did not raise you to behave this way." My dad points his finger at me and I grit my teeth, the gesture so condescending I can hardly stand it.

"You raised me to do whatever you want, to take orders. I don't want to work in the store. I don't care about the stupid marina," I yell but my dad just blows me off. No trial, no presenting my case, he just goes straight to the sentencing.

"No more Edward. You're on restriction and you're not to leave the marina," my dad lays down the law.

"What? Does that include the water, for ski rides and stuff?" I ask, flabbergasted.

"You don't leave the marina," my dad barks and I want to scream.

"For how long?" I'm going to freak out, like I want to break something. I can feel my hands shaking, and I'm dying to get to something I can destroy.

"For as long as it takes," Dad says, again the stupid finger taunting me as he jabs the air.

"This is such shit!" I shout.

"You watch your language, young lady!" my dad growls.

"Oh what, Emmett can cuss but I can't? Emmett can do whatever the hell he wants around here and you just ignore it. I hate living here!" I storm to my room and slam the door, looking for something to break. My eyes fall on my glass bottles and for a minute, I visualize myself heaving them at the wall and watching them shatter. Instead I crumble onto my bed, hiding my head in my pillow and letting my tears soak my sheets, gasping into the soft cotton that smells like my mom.

Emmett knocks on my door a little after midnight. I tell him what happened and he tries to make me feel better by offering to do all the laundry next week, but it's no use. I'm not allowed to see Edward and I'm devastated. By the time I'm free again, Edward will be gone and the summer will be over.

Edward visits me at the store in the morning, buying some gum so he can defend his stance as a customer. He didn't get into trouble at all. His dad gave him a lecture on alcohol consumption and what it does to the body and that was it. When I tell him I'm not allowed to see him, he's furious and wants to march down to my dad's office and confront him but I tell him not to. It'll just make things worse. My dad doesn't back down, ever.

Edward can't stand it. That night, he's at my window. Even though I know I shouldn't, I can't stop myself from popping out my screen and letting him in. We play Uno and Edward solves my Rubik's cube, and then does it three more times when I accuse him of cheating. Sometimes, he brings me ice cream or Pixie Stix. I tell him about my photography classes and he tells me about basketball. We argue and laugh and discuss the stupidest shit, whispering under the hum of INXS and Bon Jovi and the rest of the bands on my mixtape with my shoe shoved under the door in case my dad decides to barge in without knocking.

We do other stuff, too.

The first time Edward gives me an orgasm, I laugh uncontrollably. I read in Cosmo it's supposed to feel like an explosion and so I always pictured, a volcano erupting or like, fireworks shooting out of my who-ha. Cosmo didn't mention it would cause my whole body to seize like one of those flopping fish under the dock. Cosmo didn't mention the aftershocks or the severe sensitivity or the ridiculous sounds that would come out of my mouth. So when Edward uses his fingers to get me off, all the embarrassing things my body is doing combined with the image of crotch fireworks gives me a bad case of the giggles just seconds after the euphoric tingling subsides. Edward acts all mopey at first but I crawl into his lap and I explain and he laughs too.

I like fooling around with Edward. He's gentle and plays with my hair while we kiss, which makes my scalp shiver. The way he touches me is just really special, like he's handling something he wants to take care of. It's always slow and lingering and passionate and I can't ever remember feeling as cherished as I do when I'm with him.

This kinda scares the shit out of me.

Edward comes over the night before he's supposed to leave. He's wearing his river clothes, jean shorts and a tank top, and his hair is hidden under a Chicago Bulls cap. He's quiet and somber as he climbs in my window and I can tell this isn't going to be a night filled with giggles and groping.

He sits on my bed, a small gift bag in his hands and stares at the pale pink tissue paper. I smile because pink is so not my color. It's far too feminine and soft, and that's just not me. I am harsh, vibrant, bold reds and oranges, like the sky at dusk or the layers of sediment that cradle the river.

Edward doesn't say anything, just picks at the paper in his lap. I do not want to spend our last night together all pissy.

"Are you mad at me or something?" I ask, my tone sharp and accusing and not how I want to sound at all.

"Why didn't you call?" Edward asks quietly and I look over at him, confused. "Last year, when I gave you my phone number, why didn't you call?"

"It's long distance," I mutter, keeping the other reasons to myself. He doesn't need to know how the mere mention of him makes my heart clench in my chest, and sends a fire burning through my veins and that I fall apart when I hear songs that remind me of him. It'll only make him feel obligated and that would be unfair to both of us.

"Emmett called, and he wrote letters. Letters are practically free." Edward's brow creases, forming two thin dents of frustration.

Even though I want to deny it, there's this little bug that keeps whispering in my ear to just be honest and explain why I have to tuck him away in a neat little box, why I can't call him and pretend everything is hunky dory. It's because it's not okay. I'm not okay. What if he's too busy to write me back? It's easy to ignore things that aren't right in front of your face.

"I really miss you when I'm at home," Edward says quietly. "When you didn't call, I thought maybe...you didn't want to be friends anymore."

"Friends?" I ask. I glance over at Edward to find him staring at me, his green familiar eyes holding a familiar pain.

"You know it's more than that."

I stare at my hands, forcing myself not to cry.

"Bella, I-" Edward starts and I don't want to hear him say it. If I hear him say it, then it's real and it'll just make everything so much worse when he leaves tomorrow, and he will leave. That is a certainty.

"No!" I shout, clenching my eyes shut like a five year old throwing a fit. "Don't say it. It'll just make it unbearable."

"Unbearable?" His face crumbles and it just all comes pouring out.

"When you leave, it's unbearable. And if you say what I think you're going to say, it's just going to make things so much harder. I love our summers. It's all I can think about, it's all I live for, but it's not reality," I try to explain. I want Edward to know I care about him, and how happy this time with him makes me. But I'll deal with the realities on my own.

"Why is this so hard? Back home, when I like a girl, I ask her out and boom, it's done. But with you, it's so different. Everything is just so different," Edward says quietly. My chest throbs and I bring my hand up to stop the swell, like I'm trying to hold my heart inside my body.

"You're right. This isn't like at home," I whisper, tears welling in my eyes. I turn to face him. His head leans against the back of my daybed, his eyes stuck to the ceiling as his dark lashes blink furiously. A tiny tear slides down his cheek, and then another and I just want to crawl into his lap and press my face into his neck and feel his arms around my waist. But it's too late for that now.

I smooth my thumb across the bridge of his nose, the little flakes of peeling skin rolling under my fingertip. He closes his eyes, his face turning into my touch, another tear slipping from his lids.

"I don't expect anything from you, Edward. I don't know what all this stuff between us means. I don't know what to do or how to feel about you. I just know that I like it when I'm with you. I like the way you make me feel. And I'll always be your friend. No matter what, okay? We'll be friends." Edward stares at me and I don't know what he's thinking.

He doesn't say a word as he hands me the present. I remove the tissue paper and pull out a bottle. It's tall with a thick neck and a capped lip, the white lettering splashed against the glass. It's filled with sand and pebbles, a twig of green pine, and a handful of coffee beans settled in murky water.

"Big Red, huh?" I read and Edward shrugs.

"It's what they call me, back at home," Edward says shyly. "You know, because of the red hair."

"I don't get it," I admit, holding up the bottle and feeling like a total idiot.

"It's Seattle. See, there's a twig and a rock from the forest, sand and water from Alki Beach, coffee beans because well, everyone in Seattle drinks coffee and it's all wrapped up in one bottle. Big Red. Me," Edward explains and I am speechless.

"Edward, I…I don't know what to say," I whisper, the thoughtfulness of the gift heavy in my chest. "I love it. It's perfect."

"I thought maybe you could put it with your collection," he says quietly and I immediately settle it next to my jewelry box. I choke back a sob that's burning in my chest and hide my face from him. Do not cry, Bella. Do not cry.

"I'm sorry Bella. I'm sorry I live so far away. I'm sorry I can't take you to prom or on dates. I'm sorry you're sad. I'm just sorry," Edward says. I don't want Edward to feel sorry for me. The thought makes me sick, Edward in Seattle, surrounded by his girlfriends and his jock friends and feeling bad about the poor small town girl he fooled around with at the river.

"Don't be sorry," I say proudly, turning to face him finally. "I'll be fine, Edward. Don't feel sorry for me."

"That's not what I meant," Edward mutters. "Why does it feel like we're breaking up or something?"

His question stuns me, because while I never thought of Edward and I as a real couple, that's exactly what this feels like.

"Edward, we're not breaking up. We were never together. You can't lose something you never had." I sit down on my bed and let my shoulder lean against him.

"You're still my friend, right? You promise we'll always be friends?" Edward whispers and I can't suppress the tears any more. I lick my thumb, tears silently rolling down my cheeks and hold out my trembling pinky.

"Pinky promise."

…

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~Previous~ ~Next~ 

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A/NHoly son of a motherless goat! You readers are amazing, I'm seriously verklempt a la Linda Richman a la Mike Myers.

Melissa228 and queenofgrey thank you SO much for rec'ity rec's! I'm all a flutter, my sweeties!

And misforMarisa, this Journey's for you, love!

Wanna know what's on Edward's Mixtape? The Boo hooked me up with a blizzzogg! Link is on my profile :)

**Edit: There seems to be some confusion as to how old Bella is and what year in school. The Chapter number coincides with Bella's age during the summer before her birthday in September. Chapter 1, she's 11, Chapter 2, she's 12 and so on...Edward's always a wee year older than her, because his b-day is in June.

I based Bella, Jacob and Edward's year in school on them all being born in 1971 and starting Kindergarten when they had turned 5, in 1976. So this chapter is the summer before their Senior year of high school. Class of 1989!

Thank you for reading!