Happy New-Moon-Movie-Comes-Out-Whoopie-Sing-Shout-Dance Day!

Wow, it's been a while hasn't it? :) Well, schools been a pain in the butt, and every time I tried sitting down to post a new chapter, ether schoolwork got in the way, I was too tired to even type in a few letters, or I mysteriously lost my flashdrive (But I found it so haha :D)

So, here it is: I've fast forwarded all of the blank pages Stephenie Meyer left us because that be a big waste of computer space :P Also, I've literally erased Jessica to a much much more minor character...In her place will be Priya, the waitress from Il Cane Mangia Dapprima, the restaurant where Jacob and Bella ate together in Port Angeles in the Twilight: Reversed Roles retake of Edward and Bella at La Bella Italia (By the way, here's a fun fact: The restaurant they went to in the movie of Twilight was actually called The Bloated Toad :D)

Enjoy darlings :)

~Geneth
PS The following chapter contains a lot of my friend's names, because I love them so much :) Stephenie Meyer used her family member's names; I used my BFFs' names :D
PPS Please check out my new baby, He's Just Not That Into You. It's basically like the movie...only cooler, with Twilight characters, and a great thing to write :)

From that day on, I went about my business like a robot. A lifeless, unthinking, people-pleasing robot. I went to school, achieved straight A's with no effort whatsoever, went to parties with the Welcoming Committee, absently acknowledged Mike, Tyler, and Eric's flirting, and came home every night by curfew still hanging in the air. I even found a job working weekends at Il Cane Mangia Dapprima, a restaurant in Port Angeles, thanks to one of the waitresses, Priya, who I liked because she seemed to drop the topic of the former holder of my heart. She became such good friends with my zombie-like self that I had stayed over in her apartment during weekends, when we had to work pass midnight at the popular restaurant.

What surprised me, though, was Charlie's reaction to my routine. He seemed to utterly loathe the fact that I was breaking away from all of my former wolf drama and pretending to move on. He glared at me across the table during every meal, although I couldn't understand why he was so upset though; if I were my own parent, I would've been at least happy.

"Bella, it's settled: You're moving back with your mother and Phil."

Those words, said during a homemade breakfast of omelets and bacon, snapped me awake from my trance and I glanced up from my food at Charlie. "What?!"

"You heard me," Charlie replied, licking the last bits of bacon grease off his face. "You're going to Florida. I think it's about time that you stop this funny business and move on."

"What funny business?" I demanded. "I haven't done anything bad. I go out with friends, get a spotless report card, and even have a part-time job at one of the hottest restaurants in Port Angeles. What am I doing wrong, Dad?"

Charlie's face softened for a moment, and he now spoke in a softer tone. "Bella, I know you're still moping about…"

"Don't you dare say his name," I hissed, standing up from the table and taking my dishes to the dishwasher, newly installed thanks to my searching of the Yellow Pages during my spare time.

Ignoring me, Charlie continued. "I know you're still moping about him, even though you engross yourself with activities to hide it. I caught you talking about…him in your sleep again, Bella, and I'm worried. You have to truly move on, honey, or you'll be trapped here forever."

"Maybe I want to be trapped here forever," I snapped, slamming the dishwasher shut and hitting the on button. The dishwasher began to hum, and I went to the living room to fetch my bag and books.

Charlie followed me into the living room, standing in the doorway while I shoved my textbooks into my overstuffed bag. "All I'm saying, Bella, is –oh, I don't know– go out and do something. That's the only way you can really move on from…him."

"Fine," I sighed reluctantly, getting up from the floor. "I'll get Priya to set me up to like hang out with some people in Port Angeles, okay?"

"What?!" Charlie's face flushed colors. "Not Port Angeles! None of those big guys from there! I meant like some of kids from your school, like…eh…Mike Newton!"

"Mike Newton can kiss my ass, Dad," I said sweetly, giving him a kiss on the cheek and heading out the door before he could react.

Because of my rush to get out of the house, I got to school early and I pulled into my usual parking spot, the eight other ones next to mine unoccupied since September. It didn't matter that the former occupants of those spots no longer attended our school; everyone admitted that they were scared that if they took the spots, those very people would return and wring their necks. As I sat in my car, quietly reflecting my conversation with Charlie only a few minutes ago, I pulled out my cell phone, fully ready to follow through with my father's words.

As the phone rang, I ran my fingers over the beaten backing of my phone. The decoration previously on it was gone, so the back panel was worn and beaten in several areas, with a small bloodstain in the corner of the phone that represented my struggle to remove the stencil. The people who had put it on my phone had used some sort of special glue on it, and I almost broke my entire phone removing it.

She picked up after the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, Priya," I said shyly.

"Oh hey, Bella," she replied with easy familiarity. In the background, I heard the bustling noises of the waitress' private section of the restaurant. She must be just checking in, I thought to myself. "How's it going? Wait a second, aren't you supposed to be in school right now?"

"Actually, I have a few minutes, and I have a quick question."

"Sure; what's on your mind, Bell?"

I half-frowned at the nickname, one that was too familiar to another old one, given to me by my former life. I pretended to like it at work, but I secretly wished everyone would stop calling me that. "My dad wants me out of the house and moving on, so I told him I'd ask you to hook me up with some people during the weekend."

"Actually," she said, "I'm hanging out with some old friends after work tonight, and I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you came along."

"Great," I said, forcing enthusiasm into my voice. "Where are we going?"

"Movie and a dinner. Old fashioned, I know, but we've been like close since grade school, so don't get me started. I'm picking up one of my girlfriends in a place near Forks, so I'll pick you up too, 'kay?"

"Gotcha. See you later, Priya."

"Bye, Bell." And then she hung up, my savior from Charlie for the night and hopefully the weekend.

The whole day blew by, with me slowly slipping back into my trance. I did my schoolwork, ate with the Welcoming Committee, and avoided all invitations to go down to the beach during the weekend. There was no way I was returning to that particular beach, and I had a feeling more than half of the Committee knew that, but they still asked me for no reason. The trance took me out of school as the final bell rang at the end of the day and drove me home, walked me to my room, and ordered me to choose clothing to wear.

When Priya knocked on my door an hour and a half later, I still hadn't chosen anything good. There was no way I was going to Port Angeles in a sweatshirt and dirty jeans, and I had all of my simple outfits packed away in my overnight bag to take to Priya's condo. Besides, judging by her own beautiful and brightly colored outfit hanging on her naturally thin frame, whatever I had chosen before was so preposterous to wear.

I let her in, explaining my dilemma, and she laughed and offered to help me. She browsed through my clothing while I hovered next to her, pointing out stuff I liked and stuff I preferred not to wear, and she finally suggested gray jeans, and a white long-sleeved shirt worn under a short-sleeved black sweater dress.

"Now, all we need is a jacket," she said brightly, opening my closet and going through all of my racks. She got to the very back and pulled out a hanger with a garbage bag thrown over it. She raised an eyebrow and took the bag off from over it. I wanted to childishly cover my eyes or run out of the room, but instead I sank onto my bed as she examined it with sparkling eyes.

"Bell, this is the one! Look at it; it's like something from Paris!" Priya ran her fingers over the silken designs of the dark gray trench.

"I…It's for weddings and funerals only," I stammered, reaching into my closet and pulling out a black denim coat. "I think we're going to be late if we don't leave now." She shot me a curious look, shrugged, and put the dreaded coat back into my closet, stuffing the bag into my closet and following me out of the room.

I scribbled an explanation note to Charlie that read, "Respecting your wishes. Be home on Sunday at six. –B" and followed Priya to her glossy black Toyota, one that I had never seen we drove across town to pick Priya's friend up, I asked her about the car. "Was it a present?"

Her fingers clenched the leather steering wheel a bit harder, but carefully relaxed as she shrugged. "You could call it a present, but I consider it a guilt gift." She stretched her elegantly long fingers, smothered with lotion to cover up the marks she received from being a waitress.

"A guilt gift?" I repeated slowly, looking down at her hand. The ring that had been so shiny and bright the first time I met her was gone, replaced by a simple heart ring that wrapped around her ring and middle finger like handcuffs.

"Bell, have you ever gone out with someone who just decided he wanted to leave you?" Her simple words made me freeze in my chair, and I slowly turned away from her, uncomfortable and for some reason, on the verge of crying. She instantly understood her words, and she shook her head, as if waking up for the first time.

"Oh God, Bella, I'm sorry…I didn't mean it like that…"

"No, no, its okay, Priya," I said, my voice more confident and calm than my own feelings. "I should be over it by now…"

Just then, we pulled up in front of a large brick house that was indeed about five blocks outside of Forks and on the "countryside". Priya honked the horn, drumming her fingers on the wheel while mumbling to herself about how boys were too much trouble to deal with. I looked up at the large house to see a delicate girl stepping out it. She had short hair that was jet black and curly, and pixy-like features that reminded me strangely of little Alice Cullen, only with more sensible, non fashionista-like clothing.

"Priya," she said with a perfect smile, entering the car and settling down in the roomy backseat, "God, has it really been almost a year since our last encounter? It seems like only yesterday…Oh, you brought a friend. God, where are my manners? I'm Eira." She held out a manicured hand, having said all of that in a single breath. I shook it, having a feeling that we were going to get along fine.

"Eira is originally from New York, like me," Priya explained as we started onto the highway, "and she still thinks she's in NYC, so her speech is slightly faster than the rest of us slow Washington citizens."

Eira rolled her dark eyes. "I still don't know why I moved out of the city that never sleeps into the city that always sleeps. God, who am I kidding? Inspiration for stories never comes from a place that's greener than the Grinch on Christmas." She started a conversation with Priya as they argued over which city was better. They invited me into their conversation, and I finally relaxed in my seat, knowing the previous topic had been diverted.

When we arrived at the movie theater and found Priya's other friends, I found that they were so friendly that I felt like I had been initiated into the group. Although I could never compete with their fast-paced New Yorker speak, I at least looked like them, outfit wise. I felt strangely at ease as I talked and nodded with them.

The other girls were Fauna, a pretty girl with friendly eyes and wisps of dark hair framing her face, and Chasina, a muscular beauty with blond gold hair trailing down her back. Both still lived in New York City, having stayed there over the years. Damon and Neil, two friendly close friends who Priya explained moved to Alaska a few years back, were easy to identify, partly because Damon was thin to the extreme while Neil's skin was a warm chocolate brown, but I had trouble determining the difference between the similar-looking Sebes and Aidan. Aidan was rounder, and Sebes was obviously the more athletic of the two, but both had recently moved to different places in California, and their relaxed ways made them even harder to tell apart.

Everyone was voting for the movie, and all of the other girls wanted to watch some vampire romance that had finally came out here. I flinched at the mention of romance, and quietly voted for the boy's choice, a science-fiction thriller about aliens and guns. Priya shot me a look, but I shrugged and headed into the theater with everyone else.

I knew I made a wrong choice the first five minutes in. The supposed "edge-of-your-seat" movie had background plot about a lovey-dovey relationship between two of the astronauts, and I resisted the urge to crawl under my seat and hide. Luckily, ten minutes later, a bunch of aliens started attacking everybody, so I had an excuse to cover my face in disgust.

The two astronauts turned out to be the only survivors of the horrific invasion and, to celebrate their survival, the screen got a bit more graphic for me to handle. I got up from my seat, smartly maneuvering around the engrossed movie-watchers to the lobby.

"Bella, where are you going?" Priya whispered after me as the male lead started to peck at the girl's neck.

"I need to use the bathroom," I mumbled sheepishly as some of the movie's watchers shushed me out of the theater.

I made it to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the sink, still feeling a bit queasy. Get over it, Bella, I ordered myself, he hasn't written to you, called you, even made sure your future was okay by the damn storm clouds. Admit it, Charlie's right. Move. On. I twisted the sink's knob, turning on the water flow and slowly splashing my face. I checked myself in the mirror, and then, sighing, I stepped back into the lobby, where I found the group waiting for me.

As I stood awkwardly at the side, Damon was the first to notice me. He nudged my arm with his pointy elbow, and I swear, I could feel his bones. "Don't like those types of scenes, Bella?"

"Yeah," I said with a fake smile, "Did I miss anything good?"

"Not really; the only thing you missed was the alien erupting from the heroine's stomach and eating them both," Neil replied with a grin. "Bet you didn't expect that, huh?"

Honestly, I don't expect many things… "Yeah, I guess you're right," I said, faking a laugh that sounded just a bit off.

We eventually left the theater, with everyone discussing who the hotter female character was. I didn't try and enter the conversation, and I could sense Priya's eyes staring at me, wondering why I was suddenly so uncooperative. We finally got to the parking lot and drove around in search of fast-food restaurants opened late.

As we sat on the hoods of the cars in the Wendy's parking lot eating, I looked to the side of the port, watching as a large group of men slowly swarmed out of the bar across the street. I licked the leftover sauce off my finger, examining the men and feeling the strongest sense of meeting these people before. Was it déjà vu or something far worse?

All of the men were in stark white uniforms, with perfect creases and folds on their sides. Their leader was the same as I remembered, a brawny man with dark hair and a cocky smile who watched the passing women with unforgettable lust in his eyes. He stopped watching the women and slowly lifted his eyes to meet mine, squinting at me with his eyebrows raised, undoubtedly trying to remember my face.

I was scared, but for some reason, I slowly slid off my spot on the trunk of Priya's car, my feet lightly touching the ground as I stood, looking at the man. The girls were staring at me as a I took a step forward, and Eira jumped off the car, landing next to me with her hands hovering just over her hips.

"Bella, what the hell are you doing?"

"I…I think I know those guys…" I pointed vaguely across the street at the drunken sailors in front. What the hell was I doing? I should've answered nothing and sat back down, and continued the night. But no, I was reminiscing in the forbidden memory of the first time I came to Port Angeles.

Was it irony that I was the same distant away from my déjà vu as I was in my memory? The man's features were permanently imprinted in my mind, as he lifted my chin up and went from innocent suitor to deadly stalker who promised me a good time. My hand clenched into fist as the memory of them trapping me in the forest, boxing me in against a tree and gleefully watching me shrink in terror flooded back into my mind. But, from this distance, I couldn't make out if they were the same people, and judging by the new look of curiosity in their leader's face, he didn't recognize me ether.

"Bella, sit down!" This voice belonged to one of the boys now, even though I couldn't identify it, nor did I want to. One of them grabbed my arm, trying to secure me.

"I'm just…I'm just going to check if I know that guy…" I could practically hear my heartbeat in my ears as I brushed away his hand and started again towards the men. I was just out of the parking lot when I felt someone grab my wrist again. I turned my head halfway and saw it was Priya, with a mixture of annoyance and horror in her eyes.

"Bella," she said in a slightly cold voice, "go back to the car and finish eating. You're embarrassing yourself right now…Besides, no one goes up to a group of drunken sailors in Port Angeles at ten o'clock at night unless they have a death wish." A death wish…Was that what I wanted?

Never had she spoken with such an authority over me in her voice, and she gave me a gentle yank back to the car. My body was screaming to follow her, trail after the older sister I never had and sit down, but my brain said something else. "I'm just checking if…if…" I firmly pulled my wrist away from her and took another step into the street when yet another voice stopped me.

"Bella!"

I froze, my foot just off the curb as the familiar husky voice sounded in my ears. It couldn't be…Was it really him? I slowly pivoted my head to look around, expecting to see him sitting on his motorcycle or standing on the street behind me, maybe exchanging a look with Priya as he yelled to me again. But he wasn't there, just Priya still staring at me alone with an odd expression on her face. So where was his voice coming from? I had placed my other foot in the street when he spoke again.

"Bella, don't do anything stupid. Pick your feet up and go back to Priya. Now!"

Now I was sure it was his voice, his name purposely forgotten in my mind. He wasn't here, but his voice was right there…Holy crap, so this is what crazy people feel when they hallucinate. The déjà vu of meeting my former attackers was probably triggering some sort of switch in my brain that let me hear my former life's voice, even giving it feeling so that I could think he was behind me.

"Bella. Turn. Around. Now." Come to think of it, I could almost feel his absurdly warm touch on my waist, hands and arms. I tinkled slightly, but I couldn't tell if it were from the newfound fear or from the non-existing touch. Reluctantly, I obeyed the voice in my head and turned back to Priya, who was still standing a few feet away with her eyes glowing with angry questions.

"Guess I don't know them," I said innocently as I walked briskly back to the cars and sat down, as if nothing had happened.

The night continued slower than usual. I could hear the effort in the group's voices as they tried to assume normal conversation, but it was impossible when I was the biggest talk of the night. The girls didn't bother to include me in their forced talks of some new Broadway production in the Big Apple, knowing that I was somewhere else in my own world.

And I was not technically with them, my mind floating around with my heart as they both waited for the pain of losing him to sink in and torture my being again. But it didn't. In fact, in replace of agony, I received a feeling of almost respite, relaxing that I had nearly confronted my fears and survived. But of course, there was a downside to my victory.

His face reappeared in my mind, his soft caressing touch still on my skin. His eye literally glowing as they would've searched my face for injuries if I had told him my tale, the way he would've wrapped his arms around me to comfort me and tell me that everything was going to be alright. Even the light touch of his lips against mine started to creep back into my mind, and I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to think of everything but him.

As I busily maneuvered from table to table in Il Cane Mangia Dapprima the next day, I forced myself to focus on serving the people. My usual friendly smile seemed even more forced today, and my throat ached from calling everyone in the restaurant honey or sweetie. I scooped up the dishes from one crowded family table, slapped the check on the table with a spare hand and hustled back to the kitchen. One of the other waiters took the dishes from me, throwing them in the sink while two kitchen helpers worked busily on cleaning them.

"Bella! Table fourteen is occupied and you need to take their damn orders!" Priya yelled into the room as she did a graceful turn, balancing eight loaded plates of food onto her arms and sprinting back into the dining room. After the incident from yesterday, she had seemed more distant, still nice but with a coated sugar layer to disguise whatever she was feeling. Her friends probably thought I was suicidal or emo at this point, but I shook the thought off and followed her back into the packed dining room.

My new customers were a group of men in hunting gear, their faces and clothing stained with dirt from the woods. Men in their twenties and early thirties were the easiest people to get big tips from here, as Priya had taught me. All you had to do was smile a lot, pretend to visit their table often, even crack a few jokes with them and you'll see a large twenty under their water glass later.

"Hey guys," I said cheerfully, setting a bunch of menus on the table, "I'm Bella, your server for today here at Il Carne. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Yeah…Eight glasses of clean water!" a man with a shock of black and blonde streaked hair exclaimed as his friends burst into laughter.

"Ah, so the hunting trip went well?" I asked as I scribbled the word WATER down onto my pad.

"Are you kidding? All of the deer are disappearing," a man with dusty brown hair commented. "It's like they're ether dying or hiding. I found the carcass of one last time, with two bite marks on its jugular. Like a damn animal's going around and killing them all."

"Can't it be the mountain lion?" I asked sweetly, clueless and cute, the perfect combination for hungry men.

"I doubt it," the man with black and blonde hair replied. "Even the mountain lion are disappearing. I heard that Thompson saw a blur run past him when he was hunting, and later on saw a whole pack of deer slaughtered."

My heart pounded as he mentioned the blur. Too similar to him, if you asked me, but he would never return…Instead, I made a face at the men. "Hey! There are other people eating here…Keep the deer slaughtering to a minimum!" And with a shared laugh with the rest of the men, I hurried back to the kitchen to fill up their orders.

While the glasses were being filled up by another one of the kitchen helpers, I sat on a spare stool as his face slowly crept into my mind. How he always told me that he was never full from just one human meal…Could he have accustomed a certain taste for Forks deer? No, course not…He was probably soaking up the sun in Miami while he scanned the beaches for his imprinted one.

My shift ended three hours later, my pockets full of the usual amount of tips. I sat down on a bench in front of the restaurant, slowly counting out my money. I mostly saved whatever I earned, filling up my savings with the increase of about one percent, and I knew I wasn't going anywhere with this. If I kept up this pace, I would probably slip back into my zombie state, and Charlie would hold up his rightful end of the deal.

I scanned the shops next to me, my eyes suddenly stopping on a sign on the front of the local music shop. In bold letters, the words GUITARS FOR SALE! 75% OFF seemed to click something on in my head, and I got to my feet and entered the small shop. The air smelled like the polish musicians use to clean their flutes and horns and whatnot, and the shopkeeper, a man with a sandy ponytail and rock star getup, looked at me suspiciously as I stood awkwardly near the front.

"Can I help you?" he asked in a slightly German-accented voice.

"Um yes, I'm here about the guitars…?" I looked around at the small boutique, spotting the boxes of On Sale guitars leaning against the wall.

He clucked his tongue in disproval. "You want those old things? They need a lot of tuning, and a lot of parts need to be replaced…The only reason why they're seventy-five percent off is because if no one buys them, they're in the dump first thing tomorrow."

"How much do you want for them?" I asked eagerly, gingerly picking one up from its box and examining it. It was gorgeous, pale white paint chipped all over it and, although the strings were missing, the neck was chipped, and the hole in the center seemed a bit too wide for a normal guitar, it was perfect.

"Twenty bucks," he said, still doubtful. "If you give me thirty, I'll throw in the other one too. It's just as bad, and no one's touched it in years." He bent over and pulled out another one that looked as if termites had attacked it, and was a dark reddish-brown color. "I wouldn't recommend it though…You'll need someone who's really good at fixing musical objects…"

Or someone who's musical…Like say, Edward Cullen? He did say something once about fixing pianos, and this can't be much different…right?

"Deal," I said, reaching into my pocket and handing most of my tips from the restaurant to pay the shopkeeper.

While he packed them in plastic wrap and put them in very retro looking guitar-holders, I used my cell phone to call my father's work phone. After politely asking the receptionist for Chief Swan, I stood by the side as the phone rang a single time before Charlie answered it.

"Bella, what's wrong? Are you hurt? I knew it! Port Angeles is a horrible, horrible, place and I will pick you up right now. Where are you? The hospital, the bar…jail? You're in jail! How could…"

"Dad. Stop talking." He quieted, and I spoke again. "I'm just calling to ask for the address to the Cullens' house. I haven't seen Edward since a few months ago, and I want to see how everything's going…Maybe I'll even chat with Alice…"

"The Cullens?" Charlie repeated.

"Um, yeah…Is that okay?"

"It's more than okay! Oh goodie, I'm sure Alice will have so much fun and Esme can make you some of her homemade food again and then you can innocently call me over to pick you up and she'll invite us and oh boy oh boy…" Oh great, I set off the alarm in Charlie's brain.

Eventually, I coaxed the address out from him and hung up while he was pausing for a breath. I took the guitars from the shopkeeper, thanking him again at the same time he thanked me for buying them. I came out of the shop, guitar case in ether hand, and I walked to the edge of the port, hailing down a passing taxi. Cars weren't allowed on the port, but if you stepped just a few feet off the wooden planks, you'd be practically surrounded by busy highways. The cabbie was surprised by my two carry-on items, but he made no comment as he drove onto the highway back to Forks.

As we drove along, I couldn't help but think about Dr. Carlisle Cullen's reaction to my arrival. It would probably be the same as Alice Cullen, the hyperactive pixie of the family: pure joy. The only minor exception was that Alice would look at me like a new plaything for herself while Dr. Cullen would see me as a new plaything for his children. And, probably, whatever his reaction would be, memories of a once forgotten wolf of Forks would come back into my mind. I bit my lip and forced myself to focus on the trees that suddenly were surrounding us from ether side.

When we pulled up on the side of the long path leading up to the Cullens' grand mansion, I saw a head peer out at us through the window. My heart thumped loudly, and I saw with relief that it was Edward Cullen, rather than his sister. I could see one perfect brow raise, and I timidly waved at him through the window of the taxi. His eyes suddenly understood, and a crooked smile appeared on his face. He disappeared from the window, only to appear a few seconds later at the front door of the house, jogging down the path to meet us.

"Bella!" His smile was even godlier up close, his white teeth just a few tints lighter than his pale skin. He didn't look like he had aged at all, his bronze hair still lightly tousled in the same fashion as it had been when I last saw him. The sleeves of his tight-fitting shirt were rolled up to his elbow, and his hands were stained slightly with something that looked like the graphite from the lead of a pencil.

I was a bit nervous about talking to him again. After all, the last time we had made contact, he was carrying me around during my venture to the woods, and I had snuggled and refused to let go. But he didn't show any signs of recognition of that particular event, and he opened the taxi door for me with a flourish of his graceful hands. He helped me out of the car, holding me arms-length away before he warmly gave me a hug. Warmly…that wasn't exactly the right word. His skin was still as icy cold as it had always been, and I shivered from the touch. I had forgotten how much I liked Edward, his musical ways and his natural good-looks.

"God, you haven't changed a bit," I laughed as we pulled away. "It's like you're a frozen statue."

"Oh please," Edward said, rolling his honey-golden eyes. I had to ask him how he got contacts in that color. Or, if it were his natural color, what the hell were Esme and Carlisle feeding him? "And speaking of never aging, you're turning into one of those pictures that never change and follow me with their eyes…Are those guitar cases in the backseat?" His eyes flickered over to the back of the taxi.

"Um yeah…Can we talk about this inside, away from the cold?"

He laughed, and the melodic tone of it temporarily dazzled me. "Sure, sure. But I should warn you: there's not much difference between here and the inside of the house."

Even though I insisted that I could cover it, Edward paid for my taxi ride, tipping the driver by at least twenty bucks. We each took a guitar case and headed into the large house, laughing at the speed of the frightened cabbie driving away. It's not as if the Cullens were scary…once you got to know them. Edward held the door open for me and, as he had said, the house's temperature was just a tad warmer than the weather outside.

I had only entered the Cullen house once from a side door connected to the garage, so I was surprised by the view of the interior walking in through the front of the house, just beyond a pair of large double doors. The curving staircase in the middle of the room looked more elegant, and a new crystal chandelier was hanging from the tall ceiling of the house. The house was more decorated than my last visit, with fresh flowers in crystal bowls scattered around the room, and what seemed to be another unfinished chess match at the bottom of the curving stairway.

Esme, Edward's foster mother who looked so similar to him in so many ways, appeared from one of the various hallways, wiping her hands daintily on an apron tied neatly around her waist. "Bella, what a surprise," she said with a warm smile. "Did Charlie send you for food?" Her eyes twinkled with amusement.

"No, actually, I came by to see Edward," I explained shyly. "I haven't seen him since a while ago, and I was wondering how he was doing…" I turned, embarrassed, towards Edward, who winked broadly back at me. "And, of course, I came to see Alice," I joked. As if she had heard me from above, Alice appeared at the top of the staircase. She too seemed as if she hadn't aged since I last saw her on a visit to their house with Charlie, and she slid quickly down the banister of the staircase, landing grandly on the floor in front of us with a large smile on her face.

"I knew you would come again!" she said, giving me a hug around my middle, which was about as far up as she could reach I think. "Oh God, you're all wet. Ooh, ooh, do you want to try on some dresses I got imported from Europe? Very expensive, but very, very pretty."

"Actually, Alice," Edward piped up, "Bella wanted me to show her the music room Carlisle gave me." His lie sounded so smooth that even I believed it for a moment.

"Oh, that old thing? It's been here for ages, while those dresses are going to be out of season in like a week!"

"Maybe next time, Alice," I said, quickly hurrying after Edward as he swiftly left the front hall and started down one of the long hallways in the Cullen house. He stopped in front of the last door, opened the door carefully with a key located in his jeans pocket, and ushered me in.

The room looked like something out of a recording studio. The floor was made of black square tiles, except for a small portion of the left side that had a plush white carpet on the floor, and every single wall was painted a light red color. On the west side of the room was a comfortable-looking red sofa and a few white leather stools surrounding a glass coffee table, On the east side, however, was a large soundboard, the type people used to record albums and such in studios with professional sound crews. A marble door and a large glass window separated this lounge from another room, one with a black baby grand piano raised up on a marble platform in the corner and a large mike dangling from the ceiling. A few feet away from it was a stool with a guitar expertly balanced on it.

"Wow," I commented, sitting down on the plush sofa and setting the guitar case on the floor

"Yeah," Edward replied, running his fingers through his bronze hair with his spare hand as he set the other case down next to the coffee table. "Carlisle followed through with his promise…" Dr. Cullen had promised Edward a new music room for him to compose more songs in if he had crashed my prom to deliver a message to me and another important person there. Too bad that important person was gone…

"So, Edward, what were you up to before I came?" I asked, deciding to divert the minefield.

"Just trying out some chords for some songs," he said innocently, motioning behind him to the recording room behind the glass. I now noticed a music stand and pad of paper in front of the guitar.

"You play the guitar, too?"

"Yeah, both bass and regular guitar. I used to give music lessons when we lived in Alaska, but had to give up the ol' business when we moved here."

My plan was slowly working out in my mind, and I smiled at this. "Well, then, I guess you can help me with the other reason why I came here."

"There was another reason? You didn't want to just visit me?" He made a face, pretending to be offended and sat down on one of the stools across from me, crossing his arms against his muscular chest.

"Actually, I wanted to see what you know about guitars." I opened the guitar case next to me, slowly pulling out the pale white guitar that I had purchased from Port Angeles.

Edward gently took it from me, cradling it in his arms while he turned it over repeatedly in his hands. He set it down on the table, opened up the other guitar case, and examined the oddly colored one as well. "I think these are Washburn guitars, very vintage and very old," he commented. "How much did you buy these for?"

"Only thirty bucks. The shopkeeper said he was going to send them to the dump tomorrow if no one purchased them. Do you know how to like fix them up?"

"I've done some work before," he admitted, "but it's not going to be easy. I can give it a shot…I've been trapped in this house for days because Esme's been cooping us in, so an activity could be good for me."

"Great," I said, smiling. "How much do you want for the fix-up?"

He glanced at me, offended for real this time. "You don't have to pay me, Bella. I want to help you out, not because you're shoving it in my face and ordering me to do so."

"Fine," I replied, thinking my plan over. "Okay, well, it's not like I'm going to be playing both guitars…So, how about if you fix one for me and give me lessons –because I don't know squat about guitars– I'll give you the other one?"

"Sounds like a deal," he grinned, the liquid gold in his eyes sparkling like twin suns. He ran his fingers over the cracked wood of the white guitar. "I've never seen a Washburn guitar like this," he murmured. "I think it's one of the few in the state…"

"You take that one then," I said generously.

"Oh, no, I couldn't," Edward said hesitantly, tempted but also resisting. "It's…I can always find another one…"

"No, seriously," I said, picking it up and handing it to him. "You look good with it," I added shyly.

A gorgeous half-smile spread across his face, and he held the guitar to him. "Fine, but no backsies." He handed the red-brown guitar to me, and raised an eyebrow. "It's strange, but I think the guitar matches your eyes." I flushed red before he even finished his sentence.

I had a feeling that these two instruments were only going to bring us closer.

And now Edward gets his turn :) Yes, I got some reviews about how no one was expecting it to really turn into a EdwardxBella story but remember: New Moon was about Jacob and Bella's budding relationship, but Bella only used Jacob for a "thrill" so she could see Edward more :P Think about that :D

Review! Review! Review! I'll be more obligated to post a new one faster! Review! Review! Review!

Also, please review He's Just Not That Into You :) It has no reviews so far, and I'd like to boost it up a little...Give it a chance, please?

~Geneth :)