Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight.

Wicked Game

An Angela outtake from The Give Away Girl

Happy birthday, Iris.

Part One

The flat plastic leaves of the alarm clock flipped to midnight without much fanfare. Angela sighed and glanced out her bedroom window at the fireworks lighting the skies above her neighborhood. The sounds of happy voices and celebration echoed outside on the streets and on the black-and-white television across the room, showcasing the crowd at Times Square in New York.

1993

Angela tossed away the quilt covering her legs and left the comfort of her bed to stand in front of the full-length mirror attached to the inside of her closet door. Her boobs had finally caught up to the rest of the junior class, perky and rounded under the thin white t-shirt she'd donned before settling under the covers with two scoops of vanilla ice cream and an Anne Rice novel her one cool aunt had given her for Christmas when her parents hadn't been looking.

1993

This would be the year that changed everything, she decided, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The new piercings in her ears were healing nicely. She brushed her hair back to inspect the silver studs she'd chosen in the mall boutique.

She'd hit the salon next and had her long, straight hair styled for the first time in her life. The hairdresser gave her layers and bangs that framed her face in a way that made her finally feel like an almost-woman, or at least something more than invisible.

Yes. This year would be different.

"Good morning," her mother said hours later at the breakfast table. "Happy New Year."

Angela smiled, poured cereal for her twin brothers and herself, and answered, "Yeah. Happy New Year."

"What are your plans?" her father asked, turning the page of the sports section of the Port Angeles Daily News.

"I'm working for Esme all day," she said. "We're making a cake and themed cookies for a baby shower tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh, how sweet," her mother said. "What's the theme?"

"Rubber duckies," Angela replied. "Yellow, since they're not sure of the baby's gender."

"Well, call if you're going to be late." Her father lowered the paper to give her "the look." "And we have church tomorrow. No work on Sundays."

"Yes, Dad. I know."

She finished her breakfast in silence while her family buzzed around her, busy and loud, like always. When she finished, she poured the leftover milk down the drain and rinsed her bowl in the sink.

Upstairs, she played the popular alternative radio station—on the lowest setting, of course—and dressed in the clothes her parents had given her for Christmas: a long khaki skirt, an oversized red sweater, and shiny white Keds. She didn't bother looking in the mirror after that and instead shoved ripped jeans and black Doc Marten boots into her backpack.

She'd been saving the money she'd made working with Esme and gifted herself a new wardrobe for Christmas, right under her parents' noses—a wardrobe she hid beneath layers of cotton and ruffles in her dresser drawers.

"I'll be home later." Angela paused at the front door until her parents acknowledged she was leaving.

"See you later, honey," her mother said. "Drive safely."

Angela pulled off into the parking lot of the public library. Her bet that it would be empty paid off. She changed in the front seat and shoved the bland Sunday school clothes under the passenger seat. Then she pulled dark eyeshadow and black eyeliner from her purse. She licked the pad of her thumb and used it to smear the corners like she'd seen Bella do a thousand times.

She gave herself an approving grin and a nod, restarted her car, and finished the trip to her boss' house. Edward's Volvo sat next to Esme's beamer in the driveway, so Angela parked at the curb. She popped a vanilla mint Certs into her mouth and dabbed perfume on each of her wrists.

When she couldn't put it off anymore, she cut the engine again and exited the car. She took measured steps up the driveway and around the house to the backdoor. She saw Esme bustling around the kitchen and knocked to get her attention. Edward beat his mother to the door and held it open for Angela.

She stopped short at the sight of her New Year's resolution. He looked like shit—something that wasn't easy for Edward Cullen and hadn't been since he'd shed his glasses and his girlfriend.

Angela wasn't the only one with a crush on Edward now. The broody-jock thing looked good on him. It really wasn't fair to the girls at Port Angeles High. They were nonexistent to him.

Except for Angela, thanks to Esme.

"Hey," Edward said.

"Hey." She smiled, inhaled him and the vanilla in the air, and closed the door behind her.

Esme handed her a generic black-and-white checkered apron. "Thanks for helping on a holiday. I'll pay accordingly." She smiled and waved to the ingredients spread across her counters.

"Let's do this," Angela said.

Edward lingered on one of the bar stools, flipped through a magazine, and snacked on Esme's array of sweets.

"How was your break?" Angela asked when he finally looked up and caught her eye. "Have fun in Seattle?"

Sheer heartbreak flashed across his face before he could stop it, but he bit back the grimace, forced a quick empty smile, and answered. "It was fine. Yours?"

"It was good. I saw Bella at the mall a few days before Christmas." He frowned, so she kept going, testing the waters. "She was with The Pack. Big surprise, right?"

Angela didn't mention Bella's new hair color or her thick bangs, because it wouldn't be hard to figure out she'd stolen the look a few days later when her mother had taken her for a trim.

The phone rang, and Esme looked up from cutting duck-shaped pieces of cookie dough. Her eyes narrowed when they settled on Edward. "You can get that for me."

He nodded and reached for the handset of the retro rotary phone hanging on the wall. "Hello?" A female voice carried through the line, and he glanced at Esme in time to catch a look of warning. "I can't talk right now. I'm grounded." There was a long pause with a string of conversation on the other end of the line. "No, Maggie. I'm not making this up."

Esme held out her hand and gave the phone in Edward's hand a long, hard stare.

"I'll call you as soon as I can," Edward continued, gripping the cord with the hand not cradling the phone. "Yes. I promise."

He hung up the phone, and silence settled over the kitchen like a dense, choking fog. Angela and Esme turned their focus to lining baking sheets with dozens of sugar cookies. Esme slid them into the double oven, side by side, and set a timer.

Edward helped them cut fruit and stab tiny blocks of cheese with pink and blue toothpicks. He stuck around when the cookies came out of the oven to sample a few of the extras.

"These need to cool for a while before we ice and decorate them," Esme said. "You can go if you need to Angela. I can handle the rest."

"I'll stick around," Angela said. "No plans until church tomorrow."

Esme smiled and nodded. "All right. I'll be back in a few. I'm going to change out some laundry and fold a few towels."

Edward and Angela watched her walk out of the room.

Angela gave him a nervous smile. "So… What are you grounded for?"

"What am I not grounded for would be an easier question to answer at this point," Edward said, shaking his head. "Let's see. I broke Ben Cheney's nose, drove from the Port to Forks with a blood alcohol level that probably could've gotten me arrested, my dad had to collect me from Bella's dad… Oh! And there were handcuffs, so that was great." He stared off into space and paused. "Then I stayed with my grandparents in Seattle for a few days after my parents came back to Port Angeles and stayed out all night long without calling anyone. So now my grandparents are pissed and hurt the same way my parents are. I hurt them. I hurt Maggie."

"Maggie, your ex?"

"Don't," he said. His eyes closed, and his head dropped. "I can't talk about that right now. I did something so fucking stupid, something I can't ever take back. And I'll have to explain that to her and tell her I'm sorry, and that's if I can even sneak in a call with my mom watching my every fucking move."

He dug his palms into his eyes and sat stiller than a statue. Angela let the information overload sink in.

"Oh, and did I mention that asshole Ben Cheney took me up on my offer to send his medical bills to my parents? I have to work off his broken nose. I'll be arranging flowers and carrying wedding cakes for my mom until I leave for college, and that's if I'm lucky."

"Damn, Edward." Angela shook her head and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry your break sucked so badly."

He shook his head. "Not your fault," he said. "All mine."

And Bella's.

In fairness, the thought crossed both of their minds.

"Well," Angela said. "It's a brand new year. A fresh start, right?"

"I guess." Edward stood and turned to go. He stopped and looked over his shoulder. "Want to watch some TV until those cookies are ready decorate?"

She smiled and followed him from the room. "Sure."

A/N – All four parts of this gift will post today. Don't forget to wish Iris a happy birthday.