The first time he sees her that way is when they are standing under the street lamp.

It's been a long night with a long dinner and it followed a long week he doesn't really want to remember. He's just found out his girlfriend (the one he was sure he was head-over-heels in love with) was his cousin. Then he found out that she doesn't care and that she still wants to be his. It was awkward and sad and overall uncomfortable and horrible- telling her he was not interested, because up until that point he'd been so invested in her. He'd planned on spending every moment he could with Cindy, and to see her face when he didn't kiss her cheek as he left and when he didn't hold her hand, it was hard and it hurt. It hurt a lot.

That's why he's shocked when he looks up at Isabel and she looks like that.

Her hair is a mess in that bun she refuses to let down and her jacket falls loosely at her shoulders. The tears in her eyes are so rare and she's letting him see them just once- it somehow makes her even… what is the word?

She was a painting. She was more than anything he could ever draw. She was a sculpture he'd never quite be able to capture. Isabel was a stroke of genius and for the first time he just wants to hold her. He'd felt it while Velda pulled on her soul- watching Isabel fight for her life, even though she was unconscious and had no idea what was happening. He'd felt it when he'd caught her eyes as she sat at the bottom of Cindy's stairs, watching him with a sorry look when she had nothing to apologize for. He'd felt it when she stood there alone in the middle of their front yard after the Ghost Train, holding her arm and staring at the ground hard like she was lost in thoughts he could never touch. She probably was.

It is a feeling to reach out and grab her and keep her safe and just make sure she knows she is- she is…

He kisses her that night for the first time. Ed feels something in him so warm he can hardly contain himself (from doing what, he doesn't know). When they pull away, he fights to keep from looking at her and saying "Izzy, I don't know what I was thinking".

Seriously, where had he been that entire week?

The second time he sees her that way, they're in eighth grade and he's bent over struggling to breathe and she's covered in sweat and grime and they've got ectoplasm all over their clothes. Some part of him is focused on not passing out, but another part of him is worried about Isabel.

They've just taken down some sort of spirit in a trench coat with some spooky limbs from lots of different animals underneath. It's after school and the gym is empty and Max and Isaac are on the other side of the building, busy tackling some business revolving around the groundhog spirit from a year ago. Ed's trying so hard to see straight, but he's all over the place and his lungs burn and that is probably the last thing he needs to worry about. He probably started falling or something, because Isabel's hands are the only thing keeping him standing up straight, pressed sternly against his shoulders. He hardly hears her voice, but he can make out her laugh.

She says "Ed, take it easier next time" and "It really knocked the air outta you, huh?"

When Ed finally catches his breathe, he loses it again.

Her hair is loose and her eyes are wide in amusement with her pink lips (that he remembers the touch of like he remembers the feel of his tool) parted to breathe in as much as she can. Her hands that were stern before feel so enrapturing, and suddenly he's staring at that art gallery portrait all over again. Isabel tilts her head just-so-slightly and asks "Ed, are you okay?"

All he can do is nod slowly while his brain tries to get up to speed with what he is feeling and thinking. They said "that was weird" and "let's not do that again" but he is starting to question why it was "weird' back then.

Isabel seems happy with his answer, so she just slings his arm over her shoulders and hoists him out of the gym.

The third time, they are freshman and it's Homecoming. No dates for any of them (even though he catches Max staring at Isaac every now and then. He teases the batter covertly, making kissy faces while Max shuffles agitatedly and rolls his eyes. Isaac is oblivious). There is no Isabel walking down the stairs and taking their breaths away, but Isabel on the dancefloor is something else entirely. She can't dance for the life of her, but she is Isabel and she doesn't care and neither does he because he's standing right next to her busting out all of his weird(er) moves.

Well, maybe he cares more than he thought he did because, as wacky and weird as her movements are (hands and arms jerking in places at the wrong beats), he is entranced by her and has to apologize to strangers several times for hitting them in the face on accident. Ed wishes he had a camera. She could have been a home-movie, one that they watched just to laugh at for years to come, plunging into nostalgia on a random night just because they can. It'd be a decade later and he'd sit his kids down on the couch and say "Watch! Watch! Watch! Look, there's-!" There's who? Auntie Isabel doesn't seem right. Miss Isabel has an even worse ring to it. Misses? Misses who? That 'M' is right, but every word he matches is wrong.

She finds his eyes while she hops up and down between Isaac and Max (who are happy to dance with her as they avoid too much eye-contact with each-other) and the look in them changes. Ed sees that mischief fade to something soft and beckoning.

She grabs his hands, sets them at her waist, and wraps her arms around his neck. His heart is jumping in his chest by then, hands twitching where they lay on her. It isn't like this is the first time they'd danced together. This is a penny in the millions of times she'd had her arms around his neck or he'd held her, so why do his hands start sweating like they are? Isabel doesn't seem to notice how lost in- whatever he is lost in- he is, so she continues smiling, her usual huge grin that belongs only to the big screen production that is her.

Then she sets her head on his shoulder and everything feels right. She's close and she's right there. She's in his arms and she's happy. The girl who's usually so pent-up and violent and sharp- she's calm and she's enjoying herself. His hands come up from her waist to wrap around her in a hug and they continue swaying back and forth. Ed shuts his eyes and buries his head in her hair with a large dorky smile.

The fourth time, Ed is jealous. It's sophomore year. He's known Isaac for all of five years and yet- what the hell are they doing so close to each-other? Why is Isaac at their house all the time? Ed is totally cool with them hanging out together- just why so much? Why so often? What are they doing when he's not around?

Homework? Video games? Movies?! Kissing?! MAKING OUT?!

He sits in their old middle school clubroom with Isaac, painting things at random and letting it splatter to the floor when he gets bored of it- which isn't difficult because one thing is on his mind and nothing else holds his attention. Isaac sits on the other side of the couch and makes tiny clouds with his fingers, manipulating small rainbows and sparks and flashes of lightning. It is silent and nobody else is there yet. Max has to lock up the corner store (his dad is out of town and Zoe is spending the night a friend's house) and Isabel has to stay after for volleyball practice (she'd joined the team because the coach begged and pleaded and eventually Isabel figured "Why the hell not?"). Spender has to talk to a few teachers about a few teacher things- nothing Ed nor Isaac care about.

Ed brings it up nonchalantly. "So, what's the deal with you and Isabel?" Well, he tries at least. There has to be credit there. Isaac looks at him with a cocked eyebrow and a twitching eye, already not appreciating where the conversation is going. "I'm sorry?"

Ed realizes he has to be a little more forward, "I'm just curious about what's been going on with you and her. You two tossing the dice or something?" so he is.

Isaac waves his cloud away, expression tightening into what seems like curiosity and mild disgust. "I don't get what you're saying?"

Ed shrugs and refuses to meet his eyes, instead focusing them on the ground. It isn't like Isaac can really read his eyes through his glasses. Isabel is the only one who can do that. "Look, I just wanna know if you're doing stuff with Isabel, because she's like a sister to me. I just wanna know if there's a chance you two are… doing things like dates and kissing and stuff like that. No big deal." He hears Isaac move awkwardly besides him, and some part of Ed revels in that fact. Yes, he can squirm. He is touching Izzy, he can squirm all day! He knows Isaac is still his friend- but he wasn't about to tolerate them keeping a relationship secret from him! He would have asked Isabel, but Ed knows there's no way she would be upfront about a secret. Then Isaac sets his hands on either of Ed's shoulders and pulls him so that they are eye-to-eye. "I'm shocked I need to say this, but since you obviously need to hear it…" Ed's eyebrows furrow, ready to hear the worst. Isaac doesn't seem nearly as anxious, face so neutral he almost mistakes it for Isaac's 'Max' impression.

"Ed," Isaac says "I'm not dating your girlfriend."

The next time is during the following year, when Ed is well aware that Isabel isn't seeing anybody and Isaac was only her lab partner last year. The four of them are stronger than ever, but somehow Ed isn't satisfied. Max has gotten over being awkward around Isaac (took him long enough) and is pretty much attached to the medium's hip. It's mutual. Isaac always seems to retreat into himself when Max isn't around- like he doesn't know he belongs. Ed and Isabel remain best friends, and yet Ed feels like something is wrong. They're setting off fireworks for the Fourth of July, and usually Isabel would love the display of colors and sounds as much as he does, but she's sitting on the ground looking angry. Her eyes are on the sky, but she's looking way past the explosions.

He sits down, offers her a cola, and he doesn't even have to say anything.

"I never mentioned him" Isabel says with a hint of guilt in her voice "but I liked him a lot."

She's apologizing for not telling him. She promised she would tell him back when they went through his relationship (he cringed thinking about it) with Cindy. She's still talking, so he pays attention and pushes away the sting in his chest. He understands it, but it still hurts. There's another feeling there, too. It doesn't sting, as it's more of a dropping feeling. Ed almost feels disheartened. He ignores it. "Naturally, he has a girlfriend I didn't know about" he can tell she's bitter about it- there's sarcasm dripping from her voice "because nothing can ever be simple with us. Nothing can ever happen and not be complicated, right, because we're the Activity Club? Everything has to be screwed and there can't be just one answer and there definitely can't just be one question." Isabel pulls her legs up and wraps her arms around them, acting like she's cold but he knows she's not. She's red-hot with passion. She's angry. She's hurt. She's a lot of things. She's burning.

Ed shakes his head and actually takes his eyes off of her to look at the fireworks. He's not shocked to find they're less of a sight. He seldom finds anything that could match. Match what? Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her looking up from her lap to the exploding rockets, too.

"Well where's the fun in that?" He says it with a smile- one he didn't know he had. It isn't toothy and it's not cocky. His grin is genuine. He cares.

Ed doesn't see her face from where he's sitting, but he's assuming she looks disbelieving. "Don't get philosophical on me, Ed."

He looks at her, jaw dropping exaggeratedly to emphasize just how insulted he is. "I'm not Mister Spender." Isabel giggles and his hurt pride slips away. He loves that sound.

Max is standing next to Isaac and Spender is lighting another firework.

"You sure about that?"

Ed snorts and shrugs. "I'm just tryin' to say that maybe it's for the better? If we constantly knew what questions to ask and where to look to find the answers, what would we have to live for?" Ed pauses and waits for Isabel to respond. She doesn't. He waits a little while longer until eventually realizing she doesn't plan on saying anything at all. He takes it upon himself to fill the silence for her. "All masterpieces need a little thought, you know?"

She's looking at him now- really looking at him, and he's used to the breath he loses when he looks back. Color from the fireworks and the moon and the fire from the lighters used to set flames on the fuses- they all mesh together to paint her face like a kaleidoscope. She's looking at him curiously and he needs to remind himself that she's going to say something. He has to pay attention.

"Saying 'all lives are masterpieces' is a little philosophical, Ed. Admit it."

"I wasn't talking about all lives" he grins "I was talking about yours."

She's blushing and grabbing his arm to twist it and hurt him, but she's not really trying and in reality she's just pulling him closer. Ed doesn't try to fight it- he never does. He follows her grip and finds her burying her head into his chest. For a few seconds he's worried that she's crying, but her shoulders are perfectly still and her hands are clenching and unclenching at his back. He wraps his arms around her, for what must be the millionth time in their lives, and rests his chin on her head. One hand runs through her hair.

By the time Spender's telling them they need to pack it up and go home and Max is chasing Isaac around with a sparkler and Isaac's laughing with a cloud in his hand (filled with rain that will unpleasantly surprise Max, Ed assumes), they're so at peace.

Ed is laying back against the grass and Isabel's head is on his chest and they're stargazing together. Her hand is beside her head and she's curling into him because he's warm and she'd been shivering earlier. Both of his arms are behind his head, but he knows they want to be around her. He's used to this feeling by now- though Ed does acknowledge, for the first time, that he wants to call the masterpiece his own.