There is no interaction which can bring me from that moment of tide, that heart and soul of my moon, crashing onto the shores of him. Though I tire. My need is tiring. My love is rampant and when I watch him roam to and from I can barely stand to stand still.

When he looks at me with those Washington greens his soul is bare. Only I can see and there's heartache behind it. Pending heartache. Pending love. Pending sex.

"What's wrong with you?" Jessica asks. Her fork is at her mouth, but she lowers it and turns around. Edward looks away. "Bella…"

My name on her tongue is accusing, but even so I want to laugh. I lower my eyes to my pizza. "What?"

"What's going on?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You guys were totally eye-fucking each other."

"We were not."

Angela leans back in her chair. "Not this again, Jess."

"Yes, this again! Bella, what's going on?"

I fill my mouth with cheese and bread. I can't answer if it's occupied with food. A familiar face is approaching too quick to register his distance and the conversation. He has a note in his hand, a pass from his teacher I assume, and a smile on his face. He pulls a seat next to me and lowers.

"What's up?" Emmett asks.

Jess stills, stares at him with pinching brows and a paused fork. Her negative attitude is already on, he just enhances it. She asks, "Are you lost?"

Emmett looks at her and laughs. "I came to see Bella."

I grin at him, nearly choking on my lunch.

"Hey," he says.

This doesn't clear up anything for her. She's still confused. "Why?"

He ignores her. "You excited for next weekend?"

I wish I had choked on my pizza. I haven't told Jess and Ang about Emmett asking me. Now I've withheld information. Important girl information, at least what they now know about, because I'll always have to deny Edward. Emmett is safe ground.

"What about next weekend?" Jess asks.

"Prom." Emmett smiles, dimples showing, eyes twinkling under the bright lights. He's adorable and boyish. I can't believe he wants to go with me. I can't believe he's brought it up in front of my friends. He looks away from her, back at me, scooting his chair over a little bit more. Our shoulders touch. I feel his warmth, pleasant and drawing.

I look at Jess, weighing her reaction. She's upset. "I was going to tell you," I say. "I was going to tell you last weekend, but it didn't seem like the right time."

"It's okay," Angela says.

"Do you want to come over tonight? I thought we could study a little and watch a movie after."

Jess crosses her arms. "Yeah, Bella. He wants to study and watch a movie."

"I've been helping him with chemistry," I say with a sternness I didn't know I could muster.

"Chemistry?" A threat of humor drips from her lips. I want to smack her. "That's appropriate. You know, since you like chemistry and all."

I kick out at her and strike Angela. She yelps an ouch.

"I should probably take off," Emmett says and leaves my side. "So, how about it?"

I nod with a grin. "Yeah. I'll meet you at your car after school."

"Cool. See you then."

He's off, heading in the direction of the office. I look up where Edward stood minutes prior, but find an empty wall in his place. He's abandoned this scene of woe, as I wish I could do, but now I'm face to face with an angry estrogen mob of one. Angela doesn't appear to care, but Jess is a different breed of girl. All-knowing, suspicious, jealous.

I don't want to look at her, but her fury is hot on my skin. "I was going to tell you about it," I say.

"When? When you showed up with him?"

"Today, maybe." I hope to reason, but with her there's no such thing.

"It's not hard to figure out why she didn't. You're asking her a million questions, Jessica. It's none of our business anyway."

I thank Angela silently, taking a small bite of my pizza. My appetite wanes.

Jess shakes her head. "I don't know who you are anymore, Bella. First, Mr. Cullen, and now Emmett McCarty." Her lips purse as she leans back. "You've got all the boys under your thumb, hm?"

"Jessica. Stop," Angela says.

"Wonder how that happens? Getting a lot of practice on the field after school?"

I want to wrap my hands around her throat and scream in her face. My stomach turns. Skin flutters. I don't know why she's doing this. Jessica used to be my friend, but there's a wall building. Each word is a heavy stone set in cement. I look at her hard, beautiful face. Envy doesn't suit her lines. I'm assuming it's why she's saying all this. Envy.

"You don't know anything, Jess. Emmett and I are just friends." I remove myself from the table.

"Funny. You didn't deny Mr. Cullen."

I give momentary pause then turn. "Because I shouldn't have to." My heart pleas to run. My mind is telling me to remain calm. I walk away, seemingly unscarred from her hurtful sling.

But the conversation lingers on my shoulders all day. I cry on the way to Emmett's, but clear myself of any emotion before arriving at his place. His mom isn't there, but the scent of food is. She made brownies. The fudgey kind. I want to live here.

We sit in the living room floor. Our arms drape over the coffee table, our books open and revealing, the plate of brownies in the middle.

Emmett drums his pencil on his book. "I'm sorry if I caused trouble for you at lunch."

"No, it's okay. It wasn't you. Something has been wrong with Jess lately. She's been acting weird."

"So you didn't tell them about us?" His dimples are full-on splendor.

I laugh a little, a laugh of ignorance. "I didn't know there was an us."

"I'm a little wounded by that, Swan."

"You said you wanted to go with me because you enjoy my company, not because you like me...like that."

"How much clearer did you want me to say it? I thought when a guy asks a girl to prom it meant something more."

I glance at my lap. "Not always. I mean, I like you probably would have helped a little." My lashes bat, my eyes bouncing to and from him and my book.

He's staring at me, smoldering my resolve. My heart tumbles and this boy is slowly killing me. It's torture. I'm pulled toward him then drawn away. Still, an emptiness waits to be filled. His pencil is on his book. He moves from under the coffee table, around it, towards me on all fours, crawling.

He sits up on his knees and leans in without a hint of confusion or hesitation. Soft, cool lips touch my cheek. My mouth lifts with a smile as he sits upright. "I like you," he says.

His fingers smooth hair behind my ear, his shoulders giving a movement as he chuckles a little.

"See?" I ask. "Was that so hard?"

He shifts between my lips and eyes. A hard swallow causes his apple to bounce. "Not as hard as this..."

His face is at mine, lips hovering above, tingling. He smells of sharp cologne or body wash, but it's soft, too, like he's worn it for a couple of days without reapplying.

We kiss gentle. One-dimensional. Straight as an arrow with no flare.

He pulls away, tongue flicks over his bottom lip. "I'm sorry," he says.

"You kiss me and say sorry after?" A single chortle. Reassuring, I hope.

"No, you're right. Sorry. I mean! Sorry for saying sorry." He doesn't know what to do now. His lips glisten, his chin touches his chest while he stares at his fingers. I never imagined Emmett being like this. This boy is so sure of his plans, so confident when he first moved in for me, but now he's unsure. Is it me? Is there something wrong with me? I have to fix this. If he doesn't look up it's going to be strange between us. If he doesn't look up, if I don't do something, we end right here. I feel it.

I face him. "You don't have to be sorry for anything." I press my palms into the floor, lifting off my knees and into him to catch his lips with mine. I work to move him, to keep him from being stiff, but he's a tree. He's not pliable. I remove myself, reposition and wrap my arms around his neck, pushing him to the carpet and cradling his side, allowing my head to lay on his arm. We smile when we fall.

He's undone this way, forced to move. I'm on my back and he's leaning over my torso, kissing me with a strange gentleness I didn't expect. It's chaste with little tangle, careful and guarding some innocence from either him or me. I'm not sure which, but I don't care. It's sweet and I feel safe here, my head on his arm, his mouth fastening to mine. I close my eyes, lost in some forest of unsure surety, of breath and dim spice. We linger on the crest of wonder and discovery as his hand slides over my stomach, fingertips pressing me closer to him. And he feels good, this hard marvel of boy. So good I want to be part of him, wanting him to be part of me. I can smile when we're done, when I get home, tomorrow at school. We can look at each other without fear, but I begin to dissipate. I uncoil from this cord he's wrenched from me, my body beginning to silently reject. I gasp and he stops.

"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" he asks.

I shake my head. "No." It's me. It's me and him. It's so right, but it isn't. "You didn't." I push to sit and he moves away, but keeps close, pitching my fallen hair over my shoulder. "I just remembered...what time is it?"

We both pick up our cells. They illuminate different screens, but show the same time.

7:00

"I should probably get home," I say. "I have some things to do tonight."

"Bummer. No movie, then?"

"Raincheck?" I give him hope. He takes it with a smile.

"Deal."

I gather my things and head for the door where he spins me and kisses me once. Smooth, cool, light. I can't help the lift of my lips against my cheek, it stems from him. He tells me he'll see me tomorrow and I agree, wondering all the way home if he'll want to continue seeing me after school is done. Am I a simple relationship, a fling? Or are we concentrate, permanent, strong? I want to know, need to know, because this won't end well for me. I can't have Emmett and Edward. I can't have both. I know this. What sucks is I don't know which one wants me more. It's selfish of me.

Emmett is what I need.

Edward is what I want.

Emmett will never be Edward, and Edward can never be Emmett.

Emmett is safe, and Edward is dangerous. Dangerous for all parties involved. I shouldn't want him like I do.

When I get home, Dad is there, but nowhere to be found. I assume he's in his room. Mom isn't, but I text her, asking her when she'll be coming home. Right away she responds that she doesn't know. I need time, she writes.

Whatever u and dad are fighting about u need to work it out. its not going to be fixed if you ignore each other

i know

It's a generic reply. She knows, but I don't think she cares. Cereal for dinner I guess. Again.