Preface – Summer

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We'd been lying here like this all afternoon Alice and I, in our usual spot, lolling in the shaded hammock at the far end of her garden. Shaded by resplendent oaks and delicate willows, we didn't utter a word. It was what we did.

"I'm far too big a personality for such a small town, you know" Alice's words danced as lazily as the summer wind. I suppressed a smile. Her first words to me in an hour were a declaration of her self importance. Of course they were. Like me, her overconfidence was rivalled only by her nonchalance. It was one of the reasons we were such good friends.

"And I'm far too pretty a boy to lay here with you all day" I retorted sardonically, tipping an imaginary hat and rising fluidly from my own place on the hammock. "Later, Alice."

"Good day, Sir." She tipped her own non-imaginary hat, a beat-up old fedora, and brought it to rest over her face, tucking her lithe arms behind her head. I seized on the rare opportunity to drink her in, away from her penetrating gaze. I savoured these stolen moments. Taking in her dark, unruly waves, I felt a familiar tightening in my chest. Beautiful. Her gorgeously petite frame, so small and classically feminine, yet so exceptional in its combination of curves and slimness and shapeliness and litheness and... beautiful. I groaned inwardly, I'd been standing here too long. As I loped out of the overgrown garden, I turned back just once and cursed myself as soon as I did. She was sat up in the hammock; fedora tipped back, white summer dress splayed out around her, her hair wild, resplendent. As she stared at me, eyes penetrating once again, my nonchalance won over. I saluted once more before tucking my hands in my pockets. Alice was beautiful.

Chapter one – The Power of Three

Alice

Summer had been heaven, I thought as I laid in bed. Painful, torturous, masochistic heaven.

I'd whiled it away in stages with the three of them, each boy different, each boy completely wonderful. I had spent most of my time with Edward. Quiet, proud, brilliant Edward, whose poetry recitals on the hammock had been electrifying. I'd known him most of my life. He was the quintessential - and literal - boy next door. My childhood hero. I met Jasper, a guy from school, while I was at a gig with Edward. As soon as I saw him I could not tear my eyes away, and, to Edward's extreme dismay, I haven't had to. He was quite possibly the most beautiful boy I had ever seen, with unkempt blond hair that hung low, tickling the long eyelashes that framed his strikingly blue eyes. We jammed on the same hammock where Edward and I had spent so much time together, then he played me songs and make me feel weak with emotion as we lay, swinging in the midsummer breeze. Neither of them liked Emmett. Funny, sweet, daft Emmett. The afternoons spent with him on the hammock had made me weak in an entirely different way. Despite this, I hadn't opened my heart to any of the three, and neither of the three had opened their heart to me. Like I said, painful, torturous, masochistic heaven.

I'd been dreading this day for quite a while. School was starting up again and it was starting in less than two hours. I wasn't prepared! It wasn't the thought of having to re-submerge myself into ritualised education that bothered me. Oh, no. It was the thought of having to see those three beautiful boys all within the confines of one building. All three of them wanting to talk to me, eat with me, be around me, but did not want to be around each other. I groaned at the irony. This time last year I was going through a phase of total misanthropy, revelling in my own company and not even allowing Edward in. I'd sailed though the whole year in a haze as a self indulgent, introspective self-doubter. Then I decided to let Edward back in, and I started to become human again. Then, when I met Jasper and his brilliant I-don't-give-a-fuck-attitude, I decided I really didn't give a fuck either. And I really didn't. I stopped worrying about the boys.

The alarm rang, startling me though I'd been awake and daydreaming for well over an hour. I muzzed my hair and yawned, before heading for the shower. I'd deal with it all when the time came.

Rooting through the laundry basket for something clean-ish to wear, I happened upon a waistcoat of one of my dad's expensive suits. I shrugged. I liked it. Teamed with a band T, some daisy dukes and my beat up old Doc Martins, I felt content. I pulled my fingers through my drying hair, astonished at the amount it had grown over the summer. Last year I'd had short hair that spiked errantly all about my face. It now fell past my shoulders in soft and wavy tendrils, tamed somewhat with the added weight. I messed it up to make it wilder, topping it with my trusty fedora. A little mascara, eyeliner and bronzer later and I was good to go. What a difference a year makes, I sighed inwardly as I scooped up my backpack.

I didn't have a car, but I did have a mean bike. Well, my second-hand dad's Raleigh, but whatever, it got me places. Normally, Edward or Jasper drove me places or Emmett sent a chauffeured car. Today, I felt like cycling.

I rounded the corner into the school, lifting my right leg up and over the seat to balance on the left hand side until it rolled to a stop.

"Sweet." Jasper leant against his horrifically rusty VW van a few yards ahead, appraising me with his lazy blue eyes.

"Me or my bike skills?" I teased rolling the bike over to him and bumping fists.

He pretended to contemplate his answer. "You." He drawled at last. "Awesome Docs."

I propped the bike up against the van and leant back next to him. "Thanks. Here." I took off the fedora and popped it on top of his gorgeous, messy hair. "You're pretty damn sweet too." I blew him a kiss and headed into school with adrenaline buzzing in my veins. Who am I kidding? Of course I gave a fuck.