A/N: I'm always apologizing for being gone. My mom got really sick with pneumonia not long after I posted the last chapter and things got progressively worse from there. we've also have had a death in the family. Things on the home front are okay now, thankfully. Then the world fell apart. Work's been insane because of everything going on. I guess that's just the nature of the working for an essential business right now. (I work for a domestic violence shelter.)

For everyone else that works for an essential business, thank you for all you do. I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. I hope that this chapter will help take your mind off things for a bit.

Happy reading!

P.S. lemon alert.

25. I Like Me Better

I don't know what it is but I got that feeling (got that feeling)
Waking up in this bed next to you swear the room
Yeah, it got no ceiling
If we lay, let the day just pass us by
I might get to too much talking
I might have to tell you something

- I Like Me Better, Lauv

At first, it's like we're all frozen as everything that just happened sinks in. Rose and my brother are still staring at each other. Rose with tears still coming down her face, and my brother still bleeding, not saying a word.

Charlotte is the first one of us to make a move, she goes over to Emmett, taking his face gently in her hands to inspect the damage. She takes a pack of Kleenex out of her purse, using a small wad to soak up some of the blood coming from his split lip.

It's like Charlotte's broken the spell, the rest of us coming back to life.

"What the fuck?" Jasper says, his hands going to the top of his head.

But seriously, what the fuck? When we left the diner, everything was fine. I don't know where Royce came from, or how he and Rose started fighting in my driveway. My brother's never gotten into a fist fight before. For any reason. Ever.

I'm still processing everything when we all start heading for the house.

"That was so stupid, Emmett!" Rose fumes as we all head inside to find something to soak up the blood that's still coming out of my brother's face. She's gone from crying to furious in a matter of seconds. And she's not happy with my brother. "What were you thinking?"

We're now in the kitchen. Charlotte pulls out a chair from our kitchen table for Emmett to sit in, then goes over to the counter replacing the blood-soaked tissues for paper towels, using them to try to stop the bleeding that seems like it's never going to stop.

"That wasn't your battle to fight!" Rose yells at him.

It's clear that Charlotte is uncomfortable with being in the middle of their screaming match, but she's trying her best to keep her focus on taking care of my brother.

"He put his hands on you!" He yells back just as passionately. "No man should put his hands on a woman. Ever." Emmet's voice tapers off toward the end, taking on a less angry tone.

Rose falters for a second, so many emotions cross her face before she gets a hold of herself, setting her face into stone. "I had it handled. I can take care of myself."

"But you shouldn't have to." Emmett replies.

They stare at each other, and it's clear that something's happening.

The front door opens, and I hear our parents come in, talking in whispers. When they walk into the kitchen, they're all smiles, until they get a good look at us. I can't imagine what this looks like to them, all of us wide eyed and panicked, my brother black and blue.

"What the hell?" my dad says, as he and Mom rush to where Emmett's seated in one of the kitchen chairs.

Mom goes into nurse mode, removing the paper towels from his lip, hissing at what she sees underneath. This isn't the first time that my brother's ended up at home injured, this is just the first time that he's ended up at home injured due to a fist connecting to his face.

"I got into a fight," Emmett tells them, voice devoid of emotion. Charlotte stands behind him, her hands on his shoulders as Mom frets over him.

"No, shit." Dad replies, sarcastically. "What the hell happened?"

"He was standing up for me," Rose speaks up, looking at everything but at them. There's a shift in her demeanor as she shuts down. "Royce showed up here. My mom told him that I'd be here. When we got here, Royce was waiting for me and we got into an argument. He grabbed me and Emmett punched him. So, he was standing up for me."

"Are you okay?" Mom asks her.

Rose nods, but it's clear that she's anything but okay.

"Well, I don't think that you need stitches," Dad says, examining the damage to Emmett's face. "this time."

Once things calm down, and we're all sure that Emmet doesn't need stitches, our friends leave, saying they'll call tomorrow to check on him.

Charlotte sticks around, hovering on the outskirts as my mom gets some ice and aspirin for Emmett, nervously playing with her hands. There's a weird energy between them that wasn't there before.

Twenty minutes later, Charlotte's gone and Emmett's upstairs in bed, under a mountain of ice packs. I'm helping my clean up in the kitchen that looks like a murder scene when dad hands me a set of car keys.

"It's not exactly how we wanted to do it. But with school starting and you and your brother's schedules being so different, we thought that it'd be helpful for you two to have separate cars. It's the same make and model. We thought that'd be the fairest way to do it." He shrugs, squeezing one of my shoulders.

Mom comes over, looking like tonight aged her ten years. "Happy birthday, sweetie." She kisses me on the forehead, following dad out of the kitchen.

I want to be more excited, but after everything that's happened tonight, the fact that Emmett and I no longer have to share a car loses some of its sweetness.

The last few days of summer are quiet compared to the catastrophe that was our birthday.

The day after, the girls and I are supposed to go shopping, but Rose doesn't text like she said she would, nor does she answer any of our texts in the group chat, so it's just Alice, Claire, and I at the mall, getting new clothes for the school year. We have fun, but it's not the same.

Charlotte and I are both supposed to work the lunch shift the following day, but she calls in sick.

Emmett spends the last days on the couch, with an ice pack attached to his face. He's more subdued than normal, and I know it's more than just because he got his face bashed in. But no one's talking, and it's more confusing than ever.

When the alarm on my phone goes off at 6:00 AM exactly on the first day of school, I groan and think about throwing it out the window, annoyed with how it's interrupted my sleep. Rolling over, I slap at my phone screen harder than is necessary. I sigh once the screeching is silenced, arm hanging off the side of my bed while I continue to lay here for a few precious more minutes, cursing the fact that it's that freaking time of year again.

Stupid school. Stupid teachers. Stupid alarms.

I will gladly just lay in bed all day. I'd prefer it. Instead, I have to go and learn things.

Ugh!

I'm dozing, in that area between sleep and awake, almost falling over the edge into slumber again, when my door flies open and my light comes on.

"Up and at 'em!" Dad's too cheerful voice bellows into my room. No one should be allowed to be this energized in the morning. It should be illegal! There's no way he's sane!

I bury my head under my pillow, hiding from the light. "Die!" I cry, from within my pillow cave.

"No, can do, kiddo!" he cheerily says, ripping my blankets off me.

I groan, grieving the loss of warmth. I sit up, defeated, to look at my Dad's so happy face. He's already dressed in his work clothes with a big smile on his face, like it isn't six in the morning and still dark outside. He's one of those weird people that actually likes mornings. What kind of masochist is he?

"You're pure evil." I try to give him my best evil glare, but it comes out at half power because it's six in the morning and my brain is only partially awake.

"I know," he smiles more brightly at me, like he's getting some weird kind of pleasure out of my pain. Patting me on the leg, he says: "Come on, school time."

I groan again, louder this time.

Did I mention that I hate the first day?

Accepting my fate, I drag myself out of bed to get ready, hating every second of it. Claire and Alice are texting in our group chat, expressing their mutual pain at being up before the sun. I text them a sad face emoji. Rose is silent, like she's been the last couple of days.

I finish getting ready, putting on a pair of dark wash jean shorts and a flowy white top. I braid my bangs to keep them out of my face. They're almost grown out now, making them a slightly less pain my ass.

When I get downstairs, my parents and Emmett have already left. Mom's left a banana and granola bar on the counter for me with a note telling me to have a good first day.

I shove the granola bar in my face as I'm locking up the house, texting Edward that I'm on my way to pick him up. Getting behind the wheel of my own car is a level of freedom that I can't even begin to express.

Edward's waiting for me on his front steps, in his senior t-shirt and jeans. When I pull up, he smiles, standing to make his way over to my car.

"Good morning," he greets, getting in the passenger side. It's strange, him being the passenger.

"Good morning," I lean over to kiss him.

"Are you excited for the first day?" he asks, voice reeking of sarcasm, his smirk appearing on his face.

I groan, "Don't remind me."

I pull away from the curb, going in the direction of Claire's house. Claire, who may have gotten in a minor fender-bender (again) that resulted in her parents taking away her car keys (again).

Unlike Edward, she's not waiting outside for me, so I send her a text to let her know I'm here. She lumbers out of her front door seconds later, like it's the biggest effort in the world. She's in leggings and an oversized sweatshirt; her curly hair is in a messy bun on top of her head. To top it off, she's wearing sunglasses, because she's not dramatic at all.

She gets in the back seat without saying a word. As soon as the door's closed, her body makes a slow slide until her top half is horizontal on the seat.

"'Morning," I greet, trying not to laugh. Claire has been, and always will be, the worst morning person in the morning.

A barely audible grunt comes from the horizontal body in the back seat, that used to be my best friend.

Edward quietly laughs to himself, playing on his phone.

The student lot is almost full by the time that we make to school. Alice is waiting at the end of her car when we pull in, holding a tray of iced coffee and a brown paper bag. She and I got assigned spaces next to each other's by some miracle. She's dressed to the nine's like I'd expect in one of her creations: a simple baby blue shift dress. Her hair, that's now cotton candy pink, hangs in waves.

Before we've even had a chance to get out, Alice has the back door open, looking at Claire carefully.

"Is it alive?" Alice uses one of the straws to poke Claire in the shoulder, like she's a snake that's going to bite.

"Barely," I reply, getting out of the driver's seat, my backpack over my shoulder.

"Claire," Alice singsongs, poking her again in the shoulder with the straw. "I brought you coffee and a jelly filled donut."

"Coffee?" Claire finally moves, reaching for the tray that Alice is holding, Alice moves it away from her though, so she can't reach it.

"Yep, but you have to get out of the car first."

Sighing heavily, Claire exits the car, looking like a hot mess. She reaches wordlessly for a cup of the alleged coffee, which Alice gives over willingly.

"Thanks," Claire mumbles, downing half of the cup in one gulp.

"I got one for you," Alice hands me one. "White chocolate mocha. And" she reaches into the bag, procuring an original glazed donut. "because I know it's your favorite."

"You're officially the best." I tell her, taking a sip of the coffee.

"I know," she grins. "I got one for you, too, Edward." She hands him one. "I didn't know what you'd like so I got you just a regular."

He takes it from her, giving her a bashful smile. "Thanks, Alice."

"You're welcome."

"Hey," Rose's voice comes from behind me.

I turn to see her standing awkwardly with her hands in the pockets of her jeans. She's back to looking like the Rose pre-family drama with her dainty silver hoops and pink top. She's looking at all of like she doesn't know what to do.

Thankfully Alice comes to her rescue, going over to her, handing her the last iced coffee and donut, talking her ear off about how cute she thinks her top is, and it's like the last couple of days didn't happen, that she hadn't ghosted us. I know eventually we'll talk about it, but now's not the time.

The first warning bell rings and we all groan.

"Do we have to go in?" Claire asks, the straw never leaving her mouth, like it's her life's blood.

"Unfortunately," Alice wraps her arm around Claire, leading her to the building.

Rose and I shake our heads at the absurdity, but what else is new?

We part to go to our first period's. I head down the first floor two-hundred hallway to AP US History with Claire. We spend the period turning in our summer assignments and taking a quiz on the material, which I bombed, and going over the rules. By the time the bell rings, I already feel overwhelmed. I mean seriously, a quiz on the first day. That's cruel and unusual punishment.

Psychical science goes a little better, and I'm feeling slightly less off kilter by the time the bell rings for lunch. Edward's waiting outside my second period for me, taking my hand as we head downstairs from the second floor for lunch.

We meet at our usual table for lunch. Upper classmen are allowed to go off campus for lunch, but Quil forgot to get his pass, so we're staying on campus today.

Rose is the last to arrive at our table, stopping short when she sees my brother, who is next to the only free seat. Emmet's face is a mess, his right eye is so purple, its almost black, and he has several small cuts all over his face. She gapes slightly, eyes getting bloodshot. She comes over to Edward, tapping him on the shoulder.

"Can I sit here?" she asks him, voice soft.

He looks at me, confused for a moment. "Sure."

He gathers his stuff, moving to the seat next to Emmett while she occupies the space he once did.

"How intense exactly is APUSH?" Quil asks, breaking the weird tension that's settled over the table.

"Well, let's just say there was a quiz on the summer assignment." Claire says, taking her sandwich out of her bag.

"Shit!" Quil exclaims, rising from his seat, his apple held between his teeth as he gathers his stuff. His drawing notebook goes protectively under his arm.

"Where are you going?" Claire asks, surprised.

Quil takes the apple out of his mouth, "To finish my summer assignment for APUSH."

We all break out laughing, watching him hurriedly walk to the library.

"Who wants to bet that he's having to do that entire assignment in forty minutes?" Claire shakes her head, turning back around in her seat.

We all raise our hands.

The second half of my day is easier than the first. I walk into my third period art class with Ms. Cope where she hands out the materials that all the other teachers have today, going over all the rules, even though all of us know then because we had her last semester.

I end the day in theater arts with the girls. This is a class that I hadn't planned on taking until Alice convinced all of us saying it was an easy A.

Other than school assembles, I don't think I've ever been in the school auditorium before. The rest of the class is sitting in the first couple of rows. Alice catches my eye from the second row, waving me over.

"I still don't know how you talked me into this." I lean toward Alice, whispering in her ear.

"Oh, you'll have fun, I promise." She pats me on the hand like a grandmother, but it's not quite as reassuring.

"I'll withhold judgement." I snark, taking my hand out from under hers.

Mr. Medina is cool, though, and I have a feeling that this is going to be one of my favorite classes even though I can't act for shit.

Claire grabs a ride home with Alice, so it's just me and Edward. The driveway of the Cullen's house is empty, save for his car when we pull up.

We both deposit our backpacks by the front door, making a b-line for the kitchen.

"Do you want something to drink?" he asks, pausing at the island, picking up a piece of paper.

"Sure."

He reads whatever is written on it, shaking his head as he puts it back on the island, going over to the refrigerator, taking out two cans of Coke Zero.

"What is it?" I ask, taking one of the cans from him.

"My parents are going to be out again, so I'm on my own for dinner." He aggressively opens his can, taking a gulp and setting it on the counter.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine." He replies, leaning against the counter.

Setting my own can on the counter, I go to him, wrapping my arms around his middle from behind. "You don't have to act with me. I know it's not fine." I know being alone all the time bothers him, it's why he spends so much time at my house. "I think I know you a little bit."

He unhooks arms from around his waist, turning to look down at me.

"What…" I start but am unable to finish.

His lips are on mine before either of us are able to give it a second thought. A shocked gasp escapes me when he grips the back of my thighs, lifting me up on the counter. I'm not sure exactly how I feel about this. I mean, we're in his kitchen. His parents could come back early and catch us.

"Your parents?" His mom already hates me. I don't need to add getting caught having sex with her son to that.

"They won't be back until late. Some work thing of my mom's." His hands are running along the outside of my thighs, teasingly slipping beneath the fabric of my shorts, lips never leaving my skin.

I lick my lips, my mind a swirling vortex of desire and wariness, and I'm not sure which one is winning. I know if I say no, he'll stop, but I'm not sure if I want to.

His teeth lightly scrape against the skin of my neck, making me break, the desire winning out over the uncertainty. I bring my lips back to his heatedly, my hands quickly undoing his jeans and pushing them down. I'm breathing heavily as he works to rid me of my shorts and underwear, and I lift my hips off the counter the best I can to help get them down my legs.

He curses under his breath as he tries to get his wallet out of his discarded jeans. Once he's able to get it free, he takes the condom stashed inside with fumbling hands, before haphazardly throwing the wallet to the floor, ripping the packet open with his teeth in his haste.

One of his hands grips my hip, pulling me to the edge of the counter. I can feel my heartbeat in my head, the anticipation building. Without warning, he thrusts forward, hard, fully seating himself inside.

My hands fist the sides of his t-shirt, forehead pressed against his chest as pleasure shoots through me at the sudden intrusion. My breath comes out in short pants. His groan of approval winding me tighter.

Edward remains perfectly still, letting me adjust. He's waiting to see if I'm okay. Waiting for me to tell him to continue before he'll let himself give in.

Slowly, I run my hands up his arms, over his chest and neck to tangle in his hair. Brushing my lips lightly against his, I look into his eyes. The green orbs are pure fire, liquifying me from the inside. "Keep going."

He lets out a shuddering breath as he pulls almost all the way out and pushing back in. My fingers grip his hair tighter, causing him to groan, his movements quickening. Everything about this time feels different, like somethings brewing beneath the surface, but I'm not quite sure what yet. I kiss him hungrily, my mouth consuming his, needing to feel connected to him in every way.

The hand that had been holding my hip finds its way underneath my shirt, gliding along the sweaty skin of my back, pulling me closer to him, like he can't get enough of me.

On the next stroke in, he changes his angle, brushing places inside me that makes my toes curl. I throw my head back, moaning, my fingers gripping the edge of the counter as I start meeting him thrust for thrust. My entire body is lit on fire again, like everything he's making me feel is both too much and not enough.

Oh. Fuck.

This.

This is what the hypes all about. I finally get it.

The coil is beginning to tighten, the pleasure just on the periphery.

"Are you close?" Edward moans out. I can tell by his movements that while I may be close, he's there.

"You're closer."

His eyes practically burn into mine, something sparking in them. He kisses me once, forehead pressing against mine. His eyes are close, jaw tense, a look of pure determination on his face. He lifts one of my legs, wrapping it around his hip and holding it there. His hips are grinding into mine, his pubic bone rubbing me exactly where I need it.

The pleasure is building to the point of too much. My hands grip his shoulders, needing to hold onto something. I'm almost there.

"Edward," I whimper, watching his face. His eyes are still closed, sweat running down his face, and he's muttering "please, please, please" under his breath. One of his hands snakes between us, and that's all I need.

I cry out as a pleasure so intense rushes through me that I see stars.

"Yes," he hisses, letting go, both of us shaking.

I slump back, my head hitting the cabinet behind me, but I barely feel it. I'm still tingling, my limbs the consistency of Jell-O.

"Bella?" Edward cups my face as he pushes hair off my sweaty forehead. "Are you okay?"

I peel my eyes open, meeting his concerned gaze. Smiling, I say: "Amazing."

He kisses me softly, helping me off the counter and back into my clothes.

"Do you want to go to Gypsy's?" he asks, leaning against the counter.

"Oh, so I made you a convert, have I?" I tease. "I may be persuaded if it includes coconut cake."

He smiles at me, "I think I can make that happen." He cups my cheek, his expression becoming serious. "Thank you."

"For what?" I ask, confused.

"For being you."

A/N: This chapter gave me so much trouble. I hope that what I came up with isn't too boring, I was having a hard time getting back into the story. I promise up coming chapters will be better.

I'll see next time.