Don't Say Yes

AU/ AH/ OOC

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: They aren't mine, but I do love putting them in interesting predicaments. They belong to the lovely and talented Charlaine Harris.

It's been four years; four long years since I've seen or heard from him. He was my best friend, my first boyfriend, my first kiss, my first love; he was my everything. We met during our freshman year in high school. We sat right next to each other in World History. He was this awkward gangly blonde kid and I was just as awkward with my huge boobs and unnaturally curvy body for a fourteen year old girl. We were a match made in pubescent hell.

I'll never forget the first day I saw him. He was gorgeous to me even then, but it was much more than his outward appearance. He looked over and gave me a shy smile. It was almost like he was afraid to talk to me (which is laughable knowing what I do today). He was so unsure of himself; just as insecure as I was. I found his timid behavior quite refreshing. I'd been on a few innocent movie dates only to discover that every single guy in the school was trying to get to second base with me. I found it odd that so many of my male classmates asked me out as soon as 'the girls' arrived. It became some kind of unsaid competition. What is it about guys and boobs? I'll never understand it. I swear he was the first guy in years to talk to my eyes and not to my chest.

We compared our schedules and discovered we had the same lunch period. Neither one of us really knew anyone else so we agreed to meet for lunch every day. That was the beginning of our friendship, which eventually led to our relationship. In four years we never missed a lunch together.

Eventually, we grew into ourselves and both became quite popular. He started running with the football players and with my history in gymnastics, I decided to try-out for the cheerleading squad. By the time our junior year came around he was the star quarterback in our little town and I was the head cheerleader. We were quite the sight to behold with our matching blonde hair and bright blue eyes. When we walked through the halls it was like a scene out of all of those stupid cliché high school movies; the crowd would part as we walked hand-in-hand; the masses would stare and whisper. We were like small town celebrities; the quintessential high school couple, always together. As upperclassmen we were the queen and king of homecoming and prom. We were supposed to get married, have babies and raise them in our little town. We were supposed to live happily ever after.

My Gran had our entire wedding planned by the time spring semester of our senior year rolled around. It was going to be the biggest event our town had ever seen. We didn't have a dollar to our name, but when I turned 18 I was to receive the inheritance from my parents. They died when I was seven and my older brother was nine, but they left us both enough money to pay for college or for my wedding. Being old-fashioned, Gran didn't really see the need for me to pursue any education past high school. I was raised to be a wife and a mother. The only degree she thought I needed was an 'MRS' and I was going to earn my 'MRS' as soon as I was handed my high school diploma.

Being a strong-willed southern girl, I had other plans. I was going to use my inheritance to go to college. I had plenty of time to get married and make babies. I applied to as many schools as I could, but I could really only afford in-state tuition. When I received my acceptance to LSU, I was thrilled, but I knew what this meant for us. I wasn't stupid or naive. Gran thought I was a fool and she told me as much, but she also understood my desire to do more with my life.

After graduation everything changed as I knew it would. Our perfect little world fell apart so fast neither of us could stop it. He had a full scholarship to play football at the University of Florida and I had an academic scholarship to Louisiana State University. We were going to be hours apart and we knew that trying to stay together was going to be difficult. Instead of allowing our relationship to end badly, we decided to just make a clean break at the end of the summer. It was not a decision either one of us wanted to make, but we knew it was the right thing to do.

We said our tearful goodbyes and agreed to keep in contact as much as we could. Unfortunately, playing college football doesn't allow for any extra 'call your ex-girlfriend time' and after a few months we stopped communicating completely. I never stopped thinking about him though. I'd send Christmas cards to his family every year and I never forgot his Birthday. Ever. I never stopped loving him either. I was pathetic; I was a shell of myself. I pretty much stopped living.

One day my roommate, Amelia, came home from class and decided she'd had enough of my moping around. She threw some trashy club clothes at me and informed me we were going out. Amelia was the exact opposite of me in every way, but that's why I loved her so much. She was from New Orleans and the daughter of Louisiana state senator, Copley Carmichael. They did not get along so she was pretty much parent-less like me. She's about my height with chestnut hair and bright blue eyes and she had a great tan. I knew that if we didn't have anything else in common at least we both enjoyed the sun.

Hitting the clubs was the last thing I wanted to do, but I agreed because she was one hard-headed determined bitch and I knew she wouldn't give up until she got her way. So, I tossed on some skin tight pants and some skanky low cut top that was entirely too small for me. Amelia enjoyed displaying my 'boobage,' as she called it, because she wasn't as 'blessed' as I was. She made me wear her tops more often than I'd like to admit just to see how she would look with fake boobs. She was insane, but she was my best friend so I put up with her crazy antics.

A few songs and one too many drinks later I found myself up on a bar in Baton Rouge rockin' it like nobody's business. I couldn't sing for shit, but I knew how to move. One of the few perks of being an ex-cheerleader was that I knew how to shake it and I was really quite flexible. If my future career as a photojournalist didn't work out, I could probably get a job at a strip club. I had the attention of every man in the bar and it felt great. I actually felt like myself for the first time in months.

As I scanned the room, one pair of eyes caught my attention. They belonged to a dark haired, dark eyed man. I beckoned for him to come up to the bar and as he approached I realized just how attractive he was. He was the complete opposite of my ex and that was even better. I didn't need anything to remind me of him. Dreaming about him every night was all the reminder I needed.

He was a smooth talking southerner by the name of Bill Compton. He helped me down from the bar and bought Amelia and I both a round of drinks. After that night we were inseparable. It didn't take me long to fall completely in love with him. I'm a hopeless romantic, which will probably be my downfall, so sue me.

We had an entirely different relationship; it was mature, drama-free, and predictable. We went to class, studied, ate dinner together, had sex, and then fell asleep in each other's arms. It was comfortable; completely boring but comfortable. The sex was good, but it hardly compared to sex with the ex. After our first time, I knew in my heart that no one would ever compare to him. No one. He knew my body; he knew how to elicit a moan from me with a simple touch. We were young and reckless; and we'd tried it all without inhibitions. No matter how difficult our relationship was at times, the sex was always something that reconnected us. And when all else failed, we had our friendship; the friendship that had started it all.

I hated that I constantly compared Bill to him, but I couldn't help it. The worst part was remembering who I was having sex with in the heat of the moment. There were so many times his name formed on my lips, but I always managed to stop myself in the nick of time.

None of this was fair to Bill, and what made it worse was the he didn't even know. I hoped he would never find out. I hoped that we could go on with our happy little lie, I mean life. Hell, Amelia didn't even know about him. She knew that my former high school sweetheart was hours away from me and that we decided on an amicable break-up, but she didn't know how tightly we were bound. Most people assumed that our silly little relationship was nothing more than two horny teenagers with high school crushes, but it surpassed a long time ago.

Bill and I dated off and on for the next three years. Gran and Amelia loved him and parts of me did too. Unfortunately, he never really had all of me. A portion of my heart would always be with the one that got away. Always. For this reason, I knew it was wrong to accept Bill's proposal of marriage, but it was the next step and I didn't want to lose him. If I said no, it would have ended our three year relationship and I couldn't deal with the heartache again. I wasn't strong enough to survive it a second time.

One weekend right before graduation, Amelia and I were home from LSU visiting Gran. We came up to Bon Temps to get some of the wedding plans taken care of. Bill and I were getting married the following May. I'm a warm weather girl and I wanted our wedding to be at the old farmhouse I grew up in. This made for a longer engagement, but we both wanted to get our careers started before we got married.

Bill and I had both found jobs in Baton Rouge. He'd found a job as a computer programmer for an up and coming business and I got a job with the Baton Rouge Advocate. He already had an apartment there, and I was to move in with him once we got married. Amelia was fine with me living with her until we got married and I wasn't in a huge hurry to leave my best bud, so everything was perfect. Or at least it should have been.

As soon as Amelia and I pulled into the driveway a sense of dread washed over me; Gran was sitting on the front porch with the Saturday paper in her hand shaking her head. I was sure she was reading the obituaries and I immediately started picking through my brain to see who we knew that could have died. Maybe it was one of Gran's old lady friends from church that she played bridge with every Sunday.

"Sookie, Amelia dear, it's so good to see you. Let's go inside. I made you a pecan pie." If Gran baked me a pie this was definitely not good news. Not at all.

"Gran, I know you've got news for me. Please just tell me. Who died?" She didn't say a word, she just walked over to the counter with that same piece of newspaper tucked under her arm and cut three pieces of pie. She topped the pie with ice cream and then joined us at the table. Once we were all seated, she reached over and patted my hand. She was officially scaring me to death.

"No one died dear one. It's nothing like that. But, I have a feeling this will not be welcome news." My heart began racing and suddenly the pecan pie was making me nauseous. Amelia hadn't said a word since we'd arrived and that wasn't helping. I needed my obnoxious friend to blurt out a few profanities and make me laugh. But, no one was laughing.

"You're officially scaring me… just let me have it. What's in that paper, Gran?"

She slid the folded newspaper across the table and that's when I saw it. I couldn't take a single breath; I was suffocating and gasping for air. This was not what I was expecting. It was his wedding announcement. He was getting married. He was over me. It was really over. We were really over. The picture of them made me want to puke. She was a beautiful, thin, redhead with brilliant green eyes and a perfect smile. And, he looked better than ever. His hair was much shorter than I remember, but his eyes, those sapphire blue eyes were the same.

The article was like a train wreck; I wanted to, but I just couldn't look away. As I read the announcement the bile rose in my throat.

Sophie Anne Leclerq & Eric Alexander Northman

Mr. and Mrs. Andre Maxwell Leclerq of Jacksonville, Florida, announce the engagement of their daughter Sophie Anne Leclerq to Eric Alexander Northman, son of Mr. and Mrs. Stellan Alexander Northman of Bon Temps, Louisiana.

Sophie Anne is a graduate of the University of Florida, where she received a Bachelor's degree in Broadcast Journalism. She is employed by Leclerq Broadcasting where she works as a reporter covering all major college football events around the southeast.

Mr. Northman will graduate from The University of Florida this May with a degree in Exercise Science and Sports Medicine. He is the former star quarterback of the Gators. He decided against entering the NFL draft earlier this winter to spend time with his new bride. It is highly anticipated that he will become a free agent and eventually pursue his pro-football career.

The happy couple will wed this June in a private ceremony in Mr. Northman's home town of Bon Temps, Louisiana.

I don't know how long I sat there, but it was long enough for the ice cream on my pie to melt. When I finally looked up, Gran and Amelia were staring at me. Neither one of them had spoken for quite some time. I had to assume that Amelia knew what was going on, because her face displayed a new emotion: pity. She always looked sad for me when I fell into one of my slumps, but she'd never pitied me. Somehow I finally found the words to speak again.

"It's okay. I'm okay. This is okay. I'm getting married. He's getting married. It's okay." Amelia scooted her chair closer to me laid her head on my shoulder. When she started rubbing my back that's when I lost it.

"It's NOT okay. This is NOT okay. He's mine. He was supposed to marry me; he is supposed to marry me. I can't marry Bill. This is wrong. All of this is wrong." I was now a sobbing, hysterical mess. Amelia was wrapped around me so tightly that if my heart hadn't hurt so much, I'm sure I would have felt the physical pain of her embrace.

Somehow I ended up in my childhood bed and when I looked around he was everywhere. My room was just as I'd left it all those years ago. My crowns and sashes I wore as his queen were neatly displayed on my bookshelf. My yearbooks filled with our memories sat neatly on my desk. My jewelry box containing every single letter he'd ever written me was on my dresser.

I was in the center of my bed with Amelia on one side and Gran on the other; we were all crying. If I hadn't been such a disaster I might have laughed at the ridiculousness of our situation. We must have looked like one of those stupid Lifetime movies I was so fond of.

After I'd cried my eyes out, I finally sat up and turned around to face my bookends that had kept me grounded for god knows how long. I had a sudden moment of clarity.

"Speak now or forever hold your peace."

They both sat up and looked at me and I'm sure we all had the same wicked gleam in our eyes. He wouldn't marry her and I wouldn't marry Bill. I was going to get him back.