Author's Note: The characters and settings of Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. The original content, ideas, and plot lines of this story belong to the author. The events in this story are fictional and any similarities to actual persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. No copyright infringement is intended.

Additionally, this story contains subject matter not suitable for minors. Underage drinking, drug use, consensual sex, strong language, abuse, and other adult content may be present in this story. Again, all sex in this story is consensual. If you are under 18 and/or uncomfortable with any of these subjects, please be advised that this story may not be for you.

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A billion ass grabs to my beta, C Shell! Thanks for taking all my hilarious inquiries seriously.

EDWARD.

I scrub my hand over my face as the "Welcome to Forks" sign pulls into view. My three-day drive from Chicago is finally coming to an end. My eyes have gone a bit blurry from fatigue. Though it's only 6 pm, I feel utterly exhausted. I'm sore and cramped from sitting in the car for hours on end and sleeping on the shitty, middle-of-nowhere motel beds.

Luckily, the movers beat me to my new place and my own bed will be waiting for me when I get there. I can't wait to shower, jack off, and crash. I'll deal with unpacking in the morning.

As I round the corner and turn onto the street I would now call home, the moving truck comes into view. The guys have already moved some of my furniture onto the sidewalk and are waiting for me to unlock the door to the little blue house that my sister, Alice, told me I'd "absolutely love!"

I pull up behind the truck and cut the engine. I take a deep breath and contemplate what I've gotten myself into. Only a few weeks ago, I completed my master's degree at Northwestern University. I crammed the three-year program into two-and-a-half, and had planned to go on to pursue stage directing. What I hadn't planned for, however, was the panicked phone call I received from Alice.

Alice is the librarian at Forks High School, a position I'm convinced she took in order to make herself privy to the gossip of the small town she'd been living in. Alice loves few things more than meddling in other people's business.

When I took her call, she was all but in tears over an issue that was allegedly threatening the existence of the school's arts program. She seemed to be under the impression that I could help. According to Alice, the performing arts teacher had up and left for Italy or some shit and the school was now in desperate need of a drama nerd with teaching credentials. As much as I didn't want to move to a town with a population smaller than the student body at my alma mater, Al thought I fit the bill perfectly, and I couldn't resist her pleas no matter the circumstance. And I couldn't ignore the fact that there would be talented kids out there without means to an artistic outlet.

On top of the fact that I'm about to inherit a classroom full of hyper theatre freaks, the Italy-bound teacher left an AP English class behind. Alice had the bright fucking idea that I would fill those shoes as well. I have some basic knowledge of the reading material, and enjoy the books I was meant to cover, and the guy left me his notes. I figured, what the hell, I'll at least try.

So I packed up my small apartment, kissed my parents and friends goodbye, and hit the road. I have no idea what I'm getting myself into exactly, but I guess I'll give it a shot. If nothing else, I get to be close to my sister and her new husband, Jasper. She eloped with the French teacher at Forks only a few months ago and no one in the family has even met him yet.

Alice has a pension for abrupt decisions - she'd moved to Forks on a whim after reading an article about the impending death of the Olympic Rainforest - so it came as no surprise to Carlisle, Esme, or myself that Alice had up and married a dude she'd met only months ago. I'm really hoping that I'm not going to have to rough up a guy I've never met because he's knocked up my baby sister, or worse.

I run my hand over my face for the millionth fucking time and get out of the car. I look around and take in my surroundings. Small houses line the narrow, shady street. The house next to mine is a Barbie-pink atrocity; the mailbox reads 'Cope' in curly letters, and a stout woman - dressed in pink - waddles across the lawn to fetch her mail. I wave politely at her and she smiles back before I turn my head to observe the rest of the street.

It seems quiet enough. Average. I sigh and prepare myself to haul my things inside.

Out of the corner of my eye, a shift of movement catches my attention. Sitting on a bench on the porch of a white house across the street sits the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I lean against my car as I observe her. Her hair falls like a veil around her face as she leans over a book I can't quite make out the title of. Her slender, jean-clad legs are folded underneath her, and the pale sliver of an arm peeks out of her black shirt.

Jesus. Fuck.

I'm suddenly realizing that I need to get my hands in my pants much sooner than I had previously anticipated.

Before she has the chance to notice me staring at her with a blazing hard-on, I adjust my pants and walk over to where the movers are standing among my belongings.

Once everything has been moved into my new house, I sit down on one of my boxes and pull out my phone. I want to let her know I got here safely, though my thoughts are still across the street with the brown-eyed reader. As I dial Alice's number and wait for her to pick up, I can't help but think about the way The Reader's hair cloaked her in deep mahogany, the way her fingers delicately curled around the spine of the book...

Alice picks up after one ring and I'm met with the most ridiculously excited squeal.

"Edward! Hiiii!"

"Uh, hey, Al. Just wanted to let you know that I'm here. My stuff's in the house. So, uh, thanks for arranging this."

"That's great! Jazz and I are coming over right now!"

"Listen, Al, I'm exhausted. I'm just gonna call it a night. If you and... Jasper wanna come over in the morning to help me unpack, that'd be fine."

"Okay. That sounds great! You really should finish unpacking as soon as possible because you have to be at school on Monday for office hours. There are substitutes covering your classes through the end of the semester, but you'll need to be there to meet with students and get organized for next semester," Alice rattles.

I hardly hear her. I'm trying to look out the window onto the porch across the street. "Sounds good to me. I'll see you in the morning." I hang up my phone and walk upstairs.

Rather than assemble the bed frame tonight, I opt to throw some sheets on top of the mattress on the floor and head for the shower.

I turn the water on full-blast and let the heat pelt me, pounding away the ache and tension in my body. I let my thoughts wander as I lather up a bar of soap and run the suds methodically over my body. I wonder what the woman from across the street is doing now. It's just after 9; perhaps she's also readying herself for bed. I imagine her at a mirror, slowly running a comb through her hair. I stiffen at the thought of it. Fucking hair combing gets me excited now. I'm becoming one sick bastard. Maybe it was just the drive. Maybe I'm just lonely. Whatever.

I don't resist the urge. I grab my hard dick and pump away until I feel the sweet burn course through me when I come against the tile of the shower wall.

I stumble numbly out of the bathroom and fall naked onto my mattress. I try to stay awake long enough to get off again, but my eyes drift closed as I imagine The Reader humming me to sleep.

I pass out with my hand on my junk.

I wake up the next day in the grey light of early morning. The sound of my phone buzzing on the hardwood floor next to my sad excuse for a bed startles me awake.

"Hello?" I slur into the receiver and sit up.

"Edward. I'm outside. Get up and put some clothes on," Alice orders in my ear.

"How do you know I'm naked?" I rub my blurry eyes and try to steady myself.

"Edward, I'm your sister. I know everything about you. You're in a house by yourself, so of course you're naked," she huffs.

"Oh, God. I hope you don't know everything. Give me five minutes. I'll be down once I'm dressed." I hang up without waiting for a goodbye.

I pull myself off the mattress and walk over to my suitcase. I throw on a pair of dark jeans and a white tee shirt. There's no use in getting dressed up when I know I'll be sweating in a matter of minutes.

I pad barefoot down the stairs and open the front door.

"Eddie!" Alice screams and leaps into my arms.

"Hey, Alice," I say hoarsely. I'm still barely awake. It's not until I put her down that I notice that another person is standing on my porch.

A blonde, wiry-looking dude is standing next to my baby sister, holding one of those giant to-go boxes of coffee and what looks suspiciously like a box of donuts. I like this guy already.

"Hey, I'm Jazz. I'd, uh, shake your hand, but..." he says lifting the coffee and donuts to show that he has his hands full.

"Hey, that's alright. I'm Edward," I say, and awkwardly clap him on the back before I show them both inside.

Jazz puts the food down on the kitchen counter. Alice digs around and finds a few mismatched mugs in one of my boxes and pours us all some coffee. We drink and eat in silence for a few minutes while I try to wake up. I can't help but notice the way my sister looks at Jasper all fucking dewy-eyed, and the way that he keeps finding a way to touch her. His hand rubs her upper back as she leans against the counter, sipping her very sugary coffee.

My eyes are fixed on the white house across the street. I can see it plainly through the large, curtain-less picture window at the front of my house. I wonder if that woman will come out again, or if she's perhaps looking out her window, too... looking at me.

I watch as a police car pulls up in front of the house, obscuring my view of the porch.

"Hey, Alice. I thought you said that this was a safe neighborhood," I mumble through a sugar-covered donut.

"Yeah, it's really safe. Why? You scared being in a big house all alone?" she teases.

"No, it's just... there's a police car out there. I hope everything's okay with... the person who lives in that house." I try to mask my peaked and particular interest in that house and take another sip of my coffee.

"Yeah, that's why it's so safe. The police chief lives there. His daughter goes to Forks High, actually. She just moved back here."

The beautiful woman I saw last night must be his wife. I feel a stab of jealousy. This police chief is one lucky bastard.

"What about her mother?" I ask, hoping Alice will tell me that she's a philandering woman who sleeps with all her neighbors.

"I think her mother lives in Arizona somewhere. It's just Chief Swan and his daughter that live there in that house. Must get so lonely," Alice says on a sigh. I can see she's pained by this poor girls plight, whatever it is.

My slow, sleepy brain finally catches up with me and I realize that the woman I stroked my cock to last night must be the police chief's daughter. I nearly choke on my coffee. I feel sick.

She is a high school student, for Christ's sake, you pedophiliac fuck, I think to myself as I spit and sputter hot liquid all over my white shirt.

"Jesus, man. You alright?" Jasper asks, handing me a brown paper napkin.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, wiping down my tee shirt. "Just a bit hotter than I thought." The girl or the coffee, Cullen, huh?

"So," I turn to face Jasper, desperate to change the subject, "Alice tells me you teach French at the high school."

"Yup. Sure do. That's how I wooed this fine young lady." He grins and gives Alice a swift pat on her backside. I look away, not wanting to see whatever they're about to do.

We pass most of the morning and early afternoon unpacking boxes and arranging furniture. If I had it my way, I'd just as soon have thrown everything in the cupboards and drawers and worked on setting up my cable, but Alice insists that I make a "place for everything and keep everything in its place." Her words.

As two o'clock draws closer, things look to be getting more or less wrapped up, and we decide to go out for lunch because I have no groceries to speak of.

I go upstairs to change out of my coffee-stained shirt. As I slip out of my tee and into a plain button-down, I look out of my bedroom window. It faces out onto the street and gives me a pretty good view of the neighborhood.

I watch as a Rabbit pulls up behind the police cruiser and honks. The reader, the woman - girl - who has haunted my thoughts throughout the day, despite the fact that I know she's in high school, runs down the front steps and around the back of the car. I see her slide into the passenger seat. I can't see the driver, but I hope to God that it's a girl because the idea of this beautiful woman getting into a shitty car next to some STD-infected high school boy makes me want to throw my fist straight through the window.

I exhale and finish buttoning my shirt as I watch them pull away and drive down the street. I push The Reader out of my head and walk down the stairs, ready to attempt to embrace a new life here.