Title: Keep the Family Close

Summary: 1960's. Edward is your average wiseguy - he values money, respect and loyalty above all else. When a betrayal provides him the opportunity to prove himself, he takes it, not realizing that his plans might take a turn - for better or worse.

Pairing: Edward, Bella

Rating: M (Violence and Language)

Word Count: 5,202

DISCLAIMER: Twilight and its inclusive material is copyright to Stephanie Meyer. Original creation, including but not limited to plot and characters, is copyright to the respective authors of each story. No copyright infringement is intended.

Brooklyn, 1960's

"Where ya goin'?" Ma wipes her hands on a small rag, before throwing it over her shoulder and leaning on the kitchen's door frame, hips popped and arms crossed. Rose pretends she's not listening from where she's doing the dishes.

"Meetin' Jimmy for a bit." I throw out casually, body halfway out the door.

Ma sighed.

"That Jimmy...I don't like the two of yous hanging out. Not one bit."

"He's your son-in-law."

"Not yet!" she exclaims, fingers wagging in the air. "Lord forgive me but if he left Rose at the altar it would be a blessing."

"Ma, please!" Rosalie complains.

"He ain't that bad" I replied, inching towards the door.

Esme Mancini only wanted the best for her two kids - Ivy league education, promising career prospects and a beautiful family. It's what every mother wanted, but Ma was so hard-pressed to get it that it may have had the opposite effect. My twin sister, Rosalie, barely made it through high school and now she's engaged to 'that good for nothin' crook Jimmy.

And me, well...I ain't always on the up and up, either. No wife, No college and the company I keep is questionable, but I liked to think I did well for myself. I had my own place, steady income and I minded my own business. The rest would come later, if that's what I wanted.

Eventually, their bickering becomes too much for me. Usually, I'd enjoy my mother and Rose's squabbling. Irritation made them funnier, but I had some business to attend to.

I rolled my eyes, quickly reaching over to plant a kiss on Ma's cheek before booking it down the stairs. "I'm leaving!"

Her argument with Rose forgotten, Ma had her body half leaning over the rail, her rag waving around as she yelled.

"You make good decisions, Edward Anthony Mancini! You hear me!?"

"Loud and clear," I mumble, finally making it out of the apartment building and down the block. Without even looking, I know Ma is peeking through the blinds and watching me until I disappear around the corner. I try to shake off my irritation, reminding myself that we - Rose and me - are all she has. We're her entire life, and I love her for it; but I'm a grown man.

I make it to Bluebird's, a fancy lounge populated by big spenders and beautiful women, in record time. Jimmy is right where I know he'll be, smoking as he leans against a brick wall. He smiles big once he spots me, his crooked teeth tinted blue under the club's neon sign.

"Ed!" He greets, clapping my back and nodding at the bouncer who promptly lets us in.

"Jimmy," I nod.

I'd known James "Jimmy" Dalonzo since we were kids. Despite the differences in our personality - him being extroverted and jovial and me being more reserved and tempered - we were good friends. He could be a fuckig pain in the neck, but I like that he brought me out of my comfort zone sometimes. I think he appreciated that I didn't expect shit from him. Sitting in comfortable silence was enough for me, so he got a break from being an entertainer.

Now the prick was marrying my sister, and I can't say that I'm crazy about it but what can I do?

Kill him?

Suffice it to say, that fucker was going to be around even more.

He waves his hand, pulling me past the stage and towards a booth near the back. It's the farthest corner of the large room and provides an unobscured view of the entire place. It's where the wiseguys sit - the smart ones at least. There, no one can catch you off guard. It was a blessing when you were sittin' there and a curse when you weren't. I didn't like some of those guys havin' the upperhand - like that ugly fuck Jacob who was starin' me down.

"Relax, Ed." Jimmy says, moments before walking up to a velvet rope. The fat fuck guarding the section looks back at Carl Cullen, a well-respected figure in the neighborhood, before lifting the rope and lettin' us through.

The group that greets us is a familiar one. I've known most of them my entire life, and watched them run the neighborhood with an iron grip. These guys had it all - money, women, power... but most importantly, they had respect.

And it was something I desired above all else.

A chorus of greetings is shouted at us, the most important being the last.

"Ed! Sit down, son." Carl beckons me over with a wave, the clowns sitting near him getting up to make space for me. As soon as I sit, he grabs my face to plant a kiss on my cheeks in greeting.

"How's it going?" He asks, blue eyes searching my face.

"I'm alright." I nod.

"And your mother?"

"Why don't you call and ask her?" I smirk.

"Madonna Mia..." He mutters, glaring at me.

My mother and Carl grew up together. According to my Ma, they were almost married. The story is long and confusing, the result being that Ma married my father instead and Carl lived his life as a Bachelor. When my father mysteriously left, Carl unofficially stepped in. He'd looked after my family like we were his own, and for that, he'll always have my love and loyalty.

"Anyway," he continues, "I'm glad you're here. Let's talk."

As we walk away from the section, I look back to see Jimmy's curious expression. His expression said it all - you're in trouble, kid.

But for some reason, I get the feelin' trouble's knocking on someone else's door.

.

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"Some scotch on the rocks for you fellas."

I take my time, letting my eyes trail up slowly as I take her in. Creamy skin, beautiful chest, and hypnotic, brown eyes framed by those lashes.

Isabella Swan.

The one girl who'd always drive me fuckin' crazy. Not to be cocky - but I never had any problems when it came to women. There was no shortage of broads that were attracted to my lifestyle. The nice cars, the wads of cash and a little bit of charm...they'd do anything.

But Bella was a good girl - respectable. She was no nonsense, maybe even a bit of a ball buster but she was a sweetheart, too. She was just...perfect.

And she thought I was a schmuck.

"You look beautiful, as always," I say, letting our fingers brush against one another as I grab my drink.

She smiles that beautiful smile, before averting her eyes to wipe down the bar.

"Oh, Edward." She sighs playfully, always using my full name. "Always the charmer."

"I don't know 'bout that. Doesn't seem to work on you."

She laughs and I smile.

"Maybe smarts beat charm?" she proposes, eyes innocent. Right now though, there ain't nothin' innocent about her if you ask me. She's damn near sinful in that dress.

"Good thing this kid's got both, eh?" Carl says, clapping my shoulder before giving me a little shake.

"Oh yeah?" she raises her eyebrows, shooting a glance my way. "I wouldn't know but I'll take your word for it, ." and with that, she turns to attend to another patron.

"You'll get her next time, Ed." Carl laughs. "We've got business to attend to."

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Soon after we get our drinks, we follow Bella to a secluded room in the back. It's mostly empty, just a few chairs and tables scattered around sloppily. Sittin' at one the tables is Fat Mike, who looks up as we enter and sit across from him.

While Carl and Fat Mike greet one another, I watch Bella dutifully place the bottle of Malbec on the table, and stand hesitantly before slowly turning to leave. Her brows are furrowed, and she looks almost...worried? She keeps shootin' me looks and that's when I realize she's worried about me. Resisting the urge to yell, "So you do care!", I catch her wrist in my hand, quickly placing a tip in hers.

"Gee, Edward, that's too much-"

I shake my head.

"Don't worry about it."

She looks like she's about to argue before Carl speaks up.

"Thank you, Bella." We all know that's a dismissal.

Eyeing me one last time, she nods before heading out and shutting the door behind herself.

The room is quiet for a moment, before Carl shifts.

"Ed" He starts, his voice low. "I've known you since birth. I've known your mother longer. You're like a son to me."

I nod my head, not sure where he's goin' with this.

"We're family," he says. "Aren't we?"

"We are," I say, quickly looking over at Fat Mike. His expression gives away nothing.

"And we're close. But there's an opportunity for us to be...closer."

To an outsider, his words are cryptic and confusing. But I've been surrounded by this life since I was a child, and I understand it. The way they speak, fight, negotiate...this is an offer.

"How's that?" I ask, leaning forward on my elbows.

"Glad you asked." Mutters Fat Mike, a sinister smirk on his face. At his feet rest a small briefcase, stiff and still even as he ruffles through to find what he's looking for. He pulls out some documents, the print too small to see from where I sit. At first glance though, they look official. My eyes squint when I see the logo at the top.

Federal documents.

"Carl, what-" I'm cut off by the documents being slid in front of me. Before I even read, one name sticks out multiple times on the first document: James Dalonzo.

Fuckin' Jimmy?

"Take a look," Carl says easily.

It doesn't take long for me to figure it out. Words like, "Agreement" and "Witness" spark rage in the pit of my stomach before it drops. I'm not sure how they got a hold of these documents, but it only further proved the families reach. There were eyes, ears and mouths everywhere. Being part of this, I knew that not everyone could be trusted; as a matter of fact most people couldn't be.

But fuck. Jimmy, one of my oldest pals. My sister's fiance. Part of the family.

A fuckin' rat.

"That rat bastard," I growl, pushing the documents away from myself. I think about all the shit he's been privy to, all the times I've helped him out and connected him with guys who'd elevate his status around here. All a waste. Although Jimmy grew up around these guys like I did, it was no secret that I was always closely connected - way before I was put to work. He'd beged me to fuckin' vouch for him, put my name on the line.

And this is how he repaid me?

"He's decided to feed the pigs," Carl says, his voice somehow grave and light at the same time. "And he wants to take you down with him." He continues, pointing a finger at my chest. Fat Mike explains the plot to rat on me and few other associates. We have a couple good things going down on wall street - those fucks were just as crooked as we are and the money was good. Great even.

Irritated, I pat my breast pocket for a cigarette. I place it between my lips, quickly lighting it and inhaling the sweet smoke. It's calming- but not enough, evidenced by my fidgeting leg.

"His jealousy has poisoned his mind, you understand? He's makin' mistakes left and right. He owes money, he's sleeping with the wives of made men. He wants attention. He sees you rising- bringing in the cash the smart way- and he's envious. He-"

"He's fucking done, is what he is." I interrupt.

Carl and Fat Mike smile.

"We know. When you attack one of us, you attack the family." Fat Mike says, sweeping his arms out at his sides.

"And he needs to be dealt with accordingly. I want you to do it." Carl says calmly.

I stiffen, stubbing my cigarette on the table's edge. I swallow, before speaking.

"You want me...to handle it," I state rather than ask. I ain't dumb, and Carl doesn't like too many questions.

"Tonight." He nods.

I'll be the first to admit that I can be violent. I used to fight every day in high school and I'm still known for being a bit rough when I'm angry- but I ain't never killed anybody. This was a momentous occasion. I'd be making my bones. This was Carl asking me to join the family - officially. A made man.

"He trusts you. And I trust you to do it right." He stands, pacing with his hands clasped behind his back. "Don't worry about cleaning up either, Fat Mike will stay behind for that."

I nod over at Mike, sighing deeply.

"So, how's this gonna go?" I ask.

Mike and Carl share a look before Mike shrugs.

"I follow your lead, kid."

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After the conversation, I'm distracted the rest of the night. I'm mostly quiet, enjoying the music and alcohol as I psych myself up inside.

I'm really fuckin' doin' this.

Jimmy laughs boisterously, his arms slung around some ugly broads and a drink in his hand. I'm already furious, and his blatant disrespect of my sister adds fuel to the fire.

Maybe Ma was fuckin' right. Actually, I know she was. Jimmy is a no-good crook. He sure ain't good enough for my sister. And he ain't fuckin' family.

We'll be better off without him.

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.

"So, what'd Carl talk to you about?" Jimmy asks, his words slurring slightly.

The Bluebird has closed, only me and Jimmy left. Before he could go home with some girl, I asked that he stay behind with me. We had an important job lined up, I told him.

It was partially true; I had an important job lined up.

"Wanted us to wait here for him. He's comin' back with somethin' good. Lots of money to be earned." I say, plastering an excited look on my face. He returns it.

"Perfect," He rubs his hands together. "Just in time to the wedding tomorrow, too. Say, what time do you think we'll be done here? I gotta be at St. Mary's by noon."

I look up at the clock above the bar. It's only 1:00 am.

"Won't take long at all," I respond. "We all gotta be there-remember?"

"Well, while we're waiting might as well drink, right?"

He pours some scotch while he speaks, giving me one of the glasses before grabbing his own.

"Salud," I say.

"Salud." he repeats. "To my best man."

We drink.

"Y'know," I begin, "There's something else Carl was telling me." I stand, pacing in front of our stools.

"Oh yeah?"

I reach into my pocket, pulling out the switchblade, I keep on me at all times. I gently graze the sharp tip against the edge of the bar. Jimmy's eyes follow my slow movements.

"Yeah," I continue casually, "He thinks I'm ready to be official. A made man."

Jimmy's eyes grow wide, and I can just sense his confusion. He's almost incredulous.

"Really?" he asks in disbelief. "Aren't you a little young? You're barely 26. I'm damn near thirty and ain't close to being made. He's probably bustin' your balls. Wants to get you all riled up just to -"

"Nah," I interrupt. "He seemed pretty serious to me."

Jimmy laughs in disbelief. It's condescending and only makes what I'm about to do easier.

I grab my empty glass, walking behind Jimmy under the guise of refilling my drink. I rattle the bottles, making it sound like I'm looking through the selection. With my right hand, I reach under the bar and grab the pistol Mike had stored there for me. I'm so focused, I can barely make out what Jimmy says. My heart is in my ass.

Slowly, I lift the gun, aiming directly at the back of Jimmy's head.

"...What's the catch? What does he want you to do?" He continues to ask.

I put my finger on the trigger, softly grazing it. The quiet must confuse him. Jimmy turns around, his eyes buggin' out of his head and his drink spilling from his hands. Neither of us even flinch as the glass shatters loudly.

His fearful expression morphs into one of deep hatred. "You piece of fucking garbage! After everything, we've been through. I thought we were family!"

I scoffed, "Yeah, I thought so too. Weren't we fucking wrong."

He smirked evilly. "You can kill me, but you motherfuckers are done anyway."

"You're a rat bastard.

Just as I prepare to squeeze the trigger, I hear her.

"Edward?" Bella asks. Shocked, my finger automatically squeezed the trigger. Bella's distraction is enough for Jimmy to move out of the way and I completely missed my shot.

I turn to her angrily. How the fuck did she get back in here? And what is she doing out so late on her own?

"Bella? What the fuck - Get out-"

I'm cut off by the sound of a gunshot, and it's only when I look down that I see the blazing wound in my side. Jimmy shakily holds his own pistol, his eyes unfocused. Even from our short distance, he's too drunk to aim. I'm pretty sure that was his only bullet too.

"You should've killed me, you bastard." I growl.

Ignoring the sound of Bella's shrieking, I reach over the bar and pistol whip Jimmy hard. So hard, that he falls off his barstool, right on top of the shattered glass and scotch. Holding my side, I use my other hand to lunge myself over the bar and awkwardly make my way down the stool.

I place my boot on Jimmy's heaving chest, once again pointing my pistol at his face. The sound of Bella's sobs is distracting and keeping my pistol trained on Jimmy, I look up.

She seems paralyzed with fear as she cries into her hand. She hasn't run out yet, and she begs me to stop.

"Stop cryin'!" I shout, " I ain't gonna hurt you. Fuck, Bella, this is shitty timing."

"I-I-I forgot my house keys..." she attempts to explain through hiccups. I stop her with my hand.

"Just go." I sigh.

She shakes her head in the negative.

"No? Whadda ya mean, no?"

She wipes her nose with her scarf, a determined look on her face as she steps closer to us.

"He's not dead yet, Edward. You can stop this. You aren't this man."

Fuck my life, I think to myself.

Suddenly, Jimmy's knocked me over and throws some punches my way. He mostly misses, but the jostling and his body on mine make the pain in my side magnify by a thousand.

We tussle for a minute, each of us gaining then losing the upper hand. At one point, he manages to push my pistol away from where we tussle. With a frustrated growl, I punch furiously, just wanting to see the life leave his eyes.

This isn't how this was supposed to fuckin' go.

"Stop!" Bella's voice is loud and clear. She's closer now, somewhere behind Jimmy. He stiffens above me.

"Go ahead, you little bitch" He cackles. "Do it! Do it! I'll just kill him if you don't-"

Before I can speak, the pistol goes off. I can feel the blood on my face as it sprays down on me from his head wound. His body sways before falling over on me. Quickly, I shove him off me, rolling over with a groan. Fuck, being shot hurt.

"Oh my god!" Bella sobs, running over and crouching down where I lay. "Oh my god!"

"Fuck, Bella. Did you just..?"

"I'm so sorry. I didn't m-m-mean to! I got scared. I didn't want him to hurt you anymore! Oh my god!"

We sit there among the chaos, the shattered glass, spilled drinks and broken chairs a reflection of the chaos inside me.

My wounds are killing me, it's true. But somehow, Bella's pain is killing me even more. There's guilt nagging at me, and anger at this fucking coincidence. What were the fuckin' chances that she'd forget her keys the same night I had to do this? Why?

I have nothing to say, so I do the only thing that feels right. I pull her down and wrap her in my arms.

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After a while, we both get up. The worst of the night is over - James is gone, so the job is done.

Nevermind that I technically didn't finish the job myself- but I'll take that to my grave.

As will Bella.

I made her promise - should anything come out about this, I'd take the fall and she wouldn't even be mentioned.

Using a payphone down the block, I call Fat Mike to take care of the mess. He tells me he'll be there in five, so I go back inside.

Bella is coming up from the basement when I come back in. She lifts her hand, her apartment keys gleaming under the bars dull light.

Feeling lightheaded, I simply nod before sitting in a chair. Bella walks over to me slowly, her heels the only noise beside my beating heart and heavy breathing. Without the adreline pulsing through my veins, the pain is hard to ignore. Really, It was only a graze but it definitely did some damage. I ain't a fuckin' pussy, so I won't cry about it or nothin' but I needed to do somethin' about it soon.

When Bella's close enough for me to smell, I reach out for her waist and pull her closer. She gently runs her hands through my hair, pushing my head so that it rests on her stomach. It's probably the closest she's let me come to her -physically at least.

"Edward..." she whispers.

I push my head further into her stomach, not wanting to move from this spot - ever.

"Bella" I sigh, before tilting my head back to look up at her. She looks how I feel - dazed, angry and a little afraid.

"You've gotta go home, sweetheart. I can get one of the guys here no problem -"

She shakes her head.

"I'm not goin' anywhere."

I roll my eyes. "Bella-"

"And that's final."

"Bella-" I try again.

"No! You're hurt, Edward! Badly! I'm not leaving."

"Jesus fuck!" Fat Mike shouts, stepping over the mess. Bella and I both look up at the sound.

"Bella?" He asks. He looks between us, looking for an explanation.

"She came back lookin' for her apartment key. Had a key to this place though. Can you believe that?" I ask, trying not to make a big deal out of what is...a huge deal.

Mike looks at Bella warily. Killing women is frowned upon in the family, but she's a witness and he's no doubt trying to wrap his head around the situation. She has no loyalty to us.

But somehow, I don't think Bella's interested in gettin' me into trouble.

"She's alright. " I reassure him, getting up to stand in front of her.

He's quiet...unsure.

"Alright" He eventually says. "Carl ain't gonna like this but..."

I nod so he knows I understand.

"I've got this. Get that sorted out" he says, pointing in our general direction. I don't know whether he's talkin' about my wound or Bella, but I nod my head anyway.

Without another word, Bella and I walk out into the quiet night.

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By 3:00 am, we made it to Bella's place. At her insistence, of course. She had argued that her place was better for several reasons. It was closer, had her first aid kit and she had left-over lasagna in her fridge.

Her place is nice, small but cozy and clean. I liked it.

She makes good on all her promises; she feeds me, is able to stitch my wound despite my curses and fixes up the couch for me to sleep on real nice.

I'm laying down, enjoying the soft strokes of the wet rag she uses to clean the leftover blood on my face. Her face is serious and almost too beautiful under the moon's light.

"Thank you," I whisper.

Her eyes meet mine and she flashes a quick smile, though it doesn't meet her eyes. She looks troubled still. Like I said before, she's a good girl. This will probably haunt her for the rest of her life. She's not built for this.

"And I'm sorry." I continue.

"For what?" she says quietly, concentrating on my forehead.

"For putting you in this mess...I'll never forgive myself."

"Don't be dumb." She scoffs. I furrow my brows in confusion. "You did nothing to me. If anything, this is all my fault. I stood in your way."

"Either way...I'm sorry for it."

She's silent for a moment, then pauses her movements to look at me.

"You scared me," she admits. "I figured you were...a wiseguy. But I've never seen you that scary looking in my life. "

"You figured, huh?" I decided to focus on that. I can't respond to the rest.

"That's the smarts thing I was talkin' about earlier." She says, tapping her temple.

"...So you wouldn't date a wiseguy?"

She shrugs, not meeting my gaze.

"It's just...it can be dark, that life. Those guys have no loyalty to anyone but each other- anyone plays second fiddle. Even their own families."

"Not always." I say. Tonight proved that.

"Hm." She hums. "Well...I guess I can't judge anymore, can I?"

I arch an eyebrow in question.

"I killed a man." She swallows thickly. "I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life. Who am I to judge now?"

"Bella" I shake my head, "That was my fault. You got caught up helpin' me. I hate that it was you, but know that...I'll always protect you, alright?"

"Why don't you just...leave? I mean that could've been you, so easily. But there's a light at the end of the tunnel...y'know"

The answer is embarrassingly simple: I don't want to. For all the bad we do, most of these guys -Carl especially- saved my life. With my father gone, we had nothing. If it weren't for Carl and the family...I'd be dead regardless.

This isn't to say that I don't see her point - I do. It is a dark world. There are secrets, lies and death. There are perks - mostly the money, connections and respect- but there is tragedy. And the truth is, I don't know if I'll ever leave this life. I'm just gettin' started, really.

"I don't know," I murmured into the darkness, my voice so loud in quiet.. "Sometimes I don't think I can see it. That light at the end of the tunnel."

I've never admitted this to anyone, but in the darkness, it feels safe. Like most associated guys, I'm a product of my environment. Financial struggles and the harsh reality of Brooklyn streets leave most with no option. It's a dog eat dog world, and I refuse to starve. And regardless, the general rule is: Once you're in, there's no out. Unless it's in a jail cell or casket.

She's quiet for a moment, but it feels like longer.

"You know what my Daddy always says?" she asks.

I can't help it when the corners of my lips turn up at her; she's so beautiful.

"What does he say?"

"He says that all this 'Light at the end of the tunnel' stuff is bullshit." I raise my brows at her language, having never heard her curse before. I won't lie, it kind of turns me on.

She shrugs flippantly, "He says to me, 'you are the light, La'. "

You are the light. I'm not immediately sure what it means but it feels profound. The more I repeat it in my head, the more I like it.

"And you agree with him?" I tangle our fingers together before bringing them up to my lips.

She smiles and nods. "He's a smart man."

"I believe it. He raised a smart girl."

Never breaking eye contact, she slowly leans down. The energy between us is almost tangible, my hand to god. Her gaze pierces straight through me, and part of me hopes that whatever she sees...she likes. I only feel her breath flutter for a moment, before I reach up to press my lips to hers. She meets me with fervor, grasping my neck while I wrap an arm around her waist and carefully pull her on top of me. She hesitates for a moment, making sure I'm comfortable before givin' into this feeling.

I don't know how long we stay that way, lips moving against one another.

I can't tell if it's the craziness of the night or years of built up tension, but she gives me her all through those kisses.

We don't go all the way, though she lets me feel her and does the same to me. She's still a good girl, afterall.

Not to be a pussy, but it's one of the best nights of my life.

Even If I do fall asleep with blue balls.

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St. Mary's is packed to the brim with guests. The place is spruced up for my sister's wedding, flowers and candles ornately placed all over. Ma's running around like a chicken with no head and Rosalie's been crying since 10:00 am.

Jimmy is nowhere to be found, and Rose wails about how embarrassing it is to be stood up at her wedding. Two hours in, it becomes apparent to the guest that the wedding ain't happenin' and gossip about Jimmy's disappearing act spreads quickly.

"You were right, Ma. What a piece of flaming garbage, that guy. " I say, as I hold a sobbing Rose. I make sure she's pressed against my good side. "Who does this?"

I almost want to laugh at how easily I lie, but I do feel bad for Rose. Even if she is better off without the fucker.

Ma's crying too. It's funny, cause just yesterday she had wished for this to happen... I'm sure she wasn't picturing a hit- but the result is all the same.

She sniffles, stuffing some holy candles into her purse. "How dare he stand my daughter up! On the day of her wedding! I'm - I'm calling Carl, he'll deal with that loser when he shows up again."

I smirk, knowing that Carl will be pleased to finally hear from my mother.

Rose decides to change out of her dress, so I leave her and Ma to it. Walking out of the Church doors, I catch Carl leaning against his sleek, black car.

He smiles big at me.

"Ed!" He catches me in a hug. "You did it, kid. The family thanks you."

I shrug. "Hopefully I earned my spot"

I see Bella standing across the street. She's chattin' with some broad, and flashes me a shy smile when she catches me lookin'. She finally agreed to a date this weekend, and I can't help but think that things are lookin' up.

Carl catches my attention again, hand on my shoulder.

"You earned more than your spot," He says, " you've earned my respect."