So dear readers, this story wasn't working out for me. The political world really intrigues me, and writing from first person Bella's point of view wasn't working out because we didn't get to really get inside the White House. So, this weekend, DC and I had a heart to heart, and we worked out a compromise. The story is now written in third person all the way through, and the first two chapters have been heavily edited; go back and reread if you like. And while the story won't be updated regularly from this point on, it will, hopefully, be updated more frequently. Enjoy the new and (hopefully) improved DC!!!

Chapter 2: A Future in Politics

Edward Masen loved Air Force One. There were a lot of really annoying things about being the son of the President, but the air transportation certainly was not one of them. As Alice's head fell onto Edward's shoulder and an also-sleeping Emmett's iPod headphones blared from the seat across from them, Edward looked out the window at the sun setting over the cornfields of Iowa.

The tendency to look out the window over the country while flying over it was a habit that Edward had picked up from his father. He saw the enormous significance the gesture had for Carlisle—as President Cullen looked over the land, he fully understood the enormity of his role as its leader.

For Edward, looking over the country, he felt less responsibility towards it and more of a love for it. He was very much a part of the British nobility, to be sure—his official title was Lord Edward Anthony Masen IV, Duke of Kent. But he had grown up in the States, seeing the beautiful diversity of the different regions and being surrounded by the country's policy makers, and he knew, as much as a connection as he felt to his British homeland, that he had been wooed by the fifty United States.

He had also been wooed by his very American family, and he loved them more than he loved anyone or anything in the world. Carlisle was everything strong and powerful and loving and kind and caring and perfect, and he was generally beloved by his people—one couldn't help but have respect for the man. Esme was all of that, with a little less power and a little more motherliness.

Emmett was incredibly lovable. He didn't have a single rotten bone in his body. He was selfless and muscular and hilarious and wonderful. Alice was energetic and positive and loving and generous to a fault.

They had accepted him as a part of their family. They truly had. And he loved them just as they loved him. But Edward couldn't help but feel separate—however integrated he was into their lives, however much they loved him, however large the hole in the family would be if he were to ever leave, Edward was always very conscious that he shared none of Carlisle Cullen's DNA.

And as the son of the president, it was difficult to find any real friends—his family status repelled friends and attracted strangers. Anyone who got over the intimidation enough to approach him, it seemed, did so for the wrong reasons. Edward was extremely popular—he was athletic and charismatic and had been elected Student Body President as a junior, a rare occurrence. His girlfriend of two years, Tanya Giordano, was a fellow Sidwell Friends Junior and the achingly beautiful daughter of Aro Giordano, head of the Democratic Party.

But it was in moments like this, when Emmett wasn't distracting him with jokes, Alice wasn't diverting him with her crazy, hypo-energetic antics, Esme wasn't fixing his always-disorderly hair, and Carlisle wasn't calming him with one of his reassuring smiles and slight nods of the head, that Edward felt very alone indeed.

Normally, Edward didn't mind the semi-frequent White House receptions he was required to attend. Typically, the people were interesting, and the food was always good, and Alice and Emmett were always there.

But today, he had a splitting headache, and something was going on in the family. He didn't know what, but Esme, usually the very definition of grace at these things, was acting jumpy, and her forehead was wrinkled in concern. Carlisle, aware that he was under constant scrutiny, was less obvious, but Edward heard him lose his train of thought twice while talking to the president of Indonesia. The Hales were here, too. Malcolm was distracted and somber, and Beverly had obviously been crying. Most concerning was that Alice, Jasper, Emmett, and Rosalie had all disappeared. They had been gone for over an hour now, and Alice had tears running down her face the last time Edward saw her.

He scanned the crowd. The grand ballroom was filled, just enough to be crowded and not enough to be uncomfortable, with men in sharp suits and women who had on their body about a fourth of the income of the average American.

Finally free of a long-winded British government official, Edward was about to go off in search of them when he heard someone call his name.

"Edward Cullen!" the man exclaimed jovially. Edward turned. It was Aro Giordano, the handsome young Head of the Democratic Party, former CEO of a food processing company, and father to Tanya Giorano, Edward's girlfriend of two years. Aro Giordano had a reputation for being honorable about 85-90% of the time.

"Hello, Mr. Giordano," Edward said cordially. "And, if you'll recall, I'm a Cullen in everything but name. My surname is Masen."

"First of all, dear boy, I don't know how many times I have to ask you to call me Aro. Secondly, I meant to talk to you, actually, about that name of yours. Could we step outside?"

"Sure," he responded, very curious but a little reluctant—he really needed to go and find out what was going on with the family. Aro led the way out onto a patio that Edward had been on maybe twice before, even though it was a part of his own big, white house.

"Now Edward, I have been meaning for a while to talk to you about your future. I understand that you, as is my daughter, are entering your junior year in high school?"

He shook his head in confirmation.

"I also understand that you have flawless grades, are the Student Body President, captain of the soccer team…? I confess that your father let it slip that you already took your SAT's and did remarkably well. And I know that you've been present at the Capitol Building since you were thirteen and your father was still merely a senator. I saw the work you did for his campaign. Extremely impressive."

Edward was silent. He was puzzled. What in the world did this man want with a high schooler? "This is all quite extraordinary, dear boy. Very impressive. Very impressive indeed. And I am correct in my assumption that you were born in these fifty states?"

It dawned on him what Aro was leading up to. Was he serious? "Yes. My parents were British, but they were here visiting my adopted parents when I was born."

"Extraordinary the way things work out, is it not?"

"I'm not sure if I would say that, sir. They died not three years later."

"Oh yes. Edward, I am aware of that, and I am indeed terribly sorry…" They were silent for a while. "Edward, I am going to be frank with you. I see great promise in you as a future member of the Democratic Party. You are an extraordinary boy, and you come from a highly powerful and practically unblemished political family. You're on our side of the aisle, I hope?"

"Yes, sir."

"And are you interested in a career in American politics?"

Edward honestly did not know the answer to that. He knew that he would be a gifted politician. He had rather unusual intelligence—he continually tested in the top 99.5% of the population—and was very good at reading people. He had seen in his father an example of the good a politician could do for his country, the change he could enact on a daily basis.

On the other hand, he had also seen in his father the toll that the ugliness of the political world could take on a person. Politicians had to deal with so much bullshit on a day-to-day basis, not to mention the extraordinary annoyance of campaign and public image.

Edward would have loved politics if they weren't so damn political.

"I couldn't tell you, sir. I'm undecided."

Aro smiled. Edward felt a little uneasy.

"Well, dear boy, you sure have my vote. And let me give you some advice—stay involved. Treasure the advantage that your father's position gives you and be very present in Washington. Go to Harvard, Princeton, or Yale for your undergraduate; pick Harvard or Yale for law school. And, as a gesture of how much you appreciate the President and First Lady raising you, change your last name to Cullen before you leave for university. That name will get you far, young man."

He turned to go.

"Edward, I don't do this often and I don't do this lightly. Do what I say, keep your pretty face, and you'll be the President before you turn 45. Now, you have an ally in me. Use it."

With that, Aro turned and walked back to the party, leaving a stunned Edward behind on the patio. Just as he left, an upset Alice came rushing out.

"Edward!" she exclaimed, running over to him and giving her a hug. Edward was distressed. It was rare to see Alice looking anything less than chipper.

"Alice, what the hell is going on tonight? Everybody is acting so strange!"

Alice said quietly in his ear, reluctantly: "Rosalie is pregnant."

Edward's heart skipped a beat. So much for his "practically unblemished political family."

The election was next November. Rose would be due in June. The press was going to have a freaking field day.

One of the requirements of being a Cullen was that you had to love the Hales. In general, this was easy: Malcolm was quiet but very intelligent, and carried an aura of accepting, gentle superiority. Beverly was stricter and not as much fun as Esme, but she was a very pleasant person that truly loved all of them dearly. Jasper was, tied with Emmett and Alice, Edward's best friend. Sometimes, when Edward was feeling particularly angsty, he would go hang out with Jasper and everything would be okay.

Rosalie, however, was difficult to love. She was…tenacious, and very vocal about her disgust with the political scene. She resented being caught up in it all—while she enjoyed the spotlight, she absolutely despised the constant scrutiny that came with being the Vice President's daughter, and took every opportunity to show it, flipping off the press, purposefully disobeying rules, etc. She resented that her father always chose politics over his family.

In fact, Rosalie resented a lot of things, and frankly, Edward considered her a bit of a selfish brat. It seemed to him that she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and all she could do was complain that the food on it tasted badly. There were good things about Rosalie—really, there were, and Edward could love her when he tried really hard. He knew that, if it came down to it, that feeling would win out over his perpetual annoyance with her.

Out of all of the Cullens and perhaps all the world, the task of loving Rosalie came most easily to Emmett.

They had been dating since they were both sixteen years old, and they might as well have been even before that. Seeing Emmett love Rosalie taught Edward how to love Rosalie. He made it seem easy. She was unbelievably beautiful, yes, but he saw in her sincere care for those important to her, a strong mind that would stand up in the face of adversity for people she loved or for her closely-held ideals and morals. She would surprise you, once you got past the beautiful but rough exterior, with her soft interior.

But she would be putting Carlisle and Malcolm and their families through so much in the coming months. William Black, the highly conservative House Majority leader from Arizona and presumptive GOP nominee, was already campaigning on a morally-clean, highly-religious platform. President Cullen was in the midst of changing a previous President's policy towards abstinence-only sex education. The blow to both Carlisle and Malcolm's approval ratings and subsequent careers would be strong, and Rosalie would certainly not cooperate in minimizing it. Damn Rosalie. Edward might need to start taking some lessons from Emmett on how to love that damn woman.

Edward could not for the life of him get to sleep. School was starting the next day. He needed to be rested.

He counted: 1004, 1005, 1006, 1007…It was almost 3:00 when Edward fell into a shaky sleep…

"Let me call to the stage the newly elected…President Cullen!" Edward looked around the backstage area, waiting for his father to find his way on stage.

"Edward!" Esme nudged him. "What are you doing? Get out there! Edward!"

Edward was President Cullen, not Carlisle. As he peeked out at the enormous crowd, he felt a rush of pride and opportunity and excitement…God, he loved this feeling…

"Edward!" Esme urged. "Edward!!!!"

Edward awoke to Esme shaking him awake.

"Edward!!!!"

"Morning sleepyhead," she laughed. "You were out. Now come downstairs—Darla's made a delicious breakfast. You only have an hour before you should be leaving for school."

A/N: Thanks for reading! I'll try my very hardest to update within the week. :) Thanks, Ellie