Disclaimer: Everything and anything related to the Twilight saga belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This is a work of fiction based on her writings. No harm is meant by it.

I originally posted this back in February, and just found it on my laptop so I thought I'd post it here. Some of you may have already read it, when it was under Cupid's Little Ficsters. We each drew a candy heart as a prompt and mine was ONE KISS. Each o/s had to be about a Valentine's Day dance at Forks High.

I hope you enjoy it. Thank you for being the most awesome readers ever. :) This isn't beta'd. Any and all mistakes are my own


One Kiss

"Seniors pep rally today! During fifth period! It's mandatory!"

Those were the first words I heard when I stepped out of my truck on Friday morning. The door thunked loudly against the metal frame. I groaned as another chunk of red paint chipped off the vehicle's door and fell onto the pavement. My poor truck was starting to die, paint chip by paint chip. It would be a sad day when the thing just decided to give out on me. The only thing I hoped for was that my truck survived until graduation. I didn't want to rely on my dad for a ride. I'd sooner walk the two miles before sitting in the police cruiser.

It sucked to be the only daughter of the town's police chief.

It sucked to live in Forks, period.

There was nothing to do in the small town and it rained.

All. The. Damn. Time.

It was almost an event when the sun came out. People literally flocked out of their homes and just stared up at the sun as if it was a gift from the gods. It was pathetic, yet I totally understood. It was pathetically understandable. When you lived in the rainiest region of the Pacific Northwest, when the sun came out, you had to go enjoy it before it decided to disappear again. Even the sun hated our town. Ninety percent of the time, the sky was a dreary and dismal slate gray. It was like a perpetual cloud of despair hovered over Forks. It was depressing. It was shocking that no one in Forks was on antidepressants, and if anyone were, everyone in town would know. That's just how things went. We're a sad bunch of hicks.

Forks was the kind of place you heard about in movies and read about in books, well at least the movies and books I read. It was a quiet little town in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by acres of green woods and not much else. It made the perfect setting for a Stephen King novel, like the Maine of the West because apparently crazy shit only happened in Maine.

I constantly wondered (and silently prayed) that Jack Nicholson would make his presence know and tear down my door with an ax. At least that would have been somewhat exciting. It always shocked me that nothing of that nature ever happened in Forks. It was the perfect location for a rampant murdering spree. This was my thought process. This is what happened when there was nothing to do in town; I thought about knife-wielding psychopaths taking down the people of Forks. Oddly enough, it made me laugh; I have a twisted sense of humor.

If you were just driving through Forks, you wouldn't even stop to see it; there was nothing to see, unless a small diner, a dingy hospital, and a small townhouse that served as a police station was your cup of touristic tea. You could drive through it in about twenty minutes, twenty-two if you actually decided to stop at the only light in the town.

No one ever did.

Everyone in Forks knew each other and everyone's business. All the kids had gone to school together since elementary school. Even most of the adults in town had known each other since elementary school. There were no real secrets in Forks. Everyone knew that Ms. Stanley was having an affair with the mailman. We all knew that the real reason Mr. Banner got divorced was because he had a penchant for the same sex. Ironically enough, the only other gay person in town was the mailman. Steve was quite the man whore.

You couldn't hide anything in Forks.

That was reason #2 of the 20 MAIN reasons for leaving Forks that I had compiled in my sacred composition notebook. I had a list with over 100 reasons, but I narrowed down the MAIN LIST to just twenty. The constant rain was reason #4. Nothing to do was reason #1. Reason number #3 was that I couldn't enjoy the weekend like other teenagers could.

While other warm-blooded American teenagers prayed and begged for the end of the week, I didn't. Weekends were the worst in Forks. Unless you drove out to Port Angeles or the Quileute Reservation, you were pretty much stuck at home doing nothing; Fridays were more like a death sentence in these neck-of-the-woods.

This Friday was no different. It was the last day of January, and it sure as hell felt like the last day of January. The wind was brutal, and the moisture in the air was frozen. It felt like tiny pieces of glass were hitting against my cheeks every time the wind blew. (Reason number 5: Winters in Forks were harsh.)

Regardless of the cold, people still wandered around their cars waiting for the first period warning bell. Anyone would tell you that being out in the cold was better than the sauna that was Forks High. The heating system was on the fritz. So, it felt like a tropical island in every room. The moment you stepped inside, you wanted to step back outside. It was terrible; you could smell and touch the heat.

I took slow steps toward the side entrance. My lack of coordination was the main reason for my trepidation. I was a walking accident, no doubt about it, but I always tripped over legitimate things like a raised sidewalk or an obstruction on the ground. I didn't want to tempt fate and the icy pavement. The last thing I needed was to fall flat on my ass in front of the Forks cheer leading squad. They would never let me live it down.

"Pep rally today!" one of them loudly announced when I walked by her. With my head down, an extremely common stance, I didn't know which one of them shouted, but I didn't care. All the shouting was honestly unnecessary seeing that flyers announcing the pep rally had been posted everywhere since Monday.

The reason for the pep rally was being kept hush-hush. However, I didn't know who the dance committee was trying to fool. Everyone and their mother knew that the pep rally was to discuss the upcoming Seniors Valentine's Day dance. Next to the Senior Prom, the Valentine's Day dance was the biggest event in Forks, and third biggest event in the senior year calendar.

Every year, the "dance committee" or the cheer leading squad- since all but one member didn't own pom-poms- made a big deal out of announcing the theme for the dance. I had to admit that I was slightly curious to see what nonsense they came up with this year. Last year the theme was "The 80's."

The pictures were priceless, even I had to admit that. The seniors had put a great deal of effort into what they wore. There were side ponytails, parachute pants, leg warmers, and Mr. Banner even decided that it was okay to stuff his thighs into a fluorescent green spandex leotard. I even heard that the DJ strictly played 80's music; I cringed thinking about it. Unless it was the better music from the decade like The Cure for instance, I would have been in Flashdance hell. Personally, I would have dressed up as Pat Benatar.

There was one benefit about pep rallies and that was that they usually occurred when most people had class. However, this pep rally was happening during my only free period of the day, which frankly pissed me off. I always spent my free period in the library or my truck during the better weather. I would spend the forty-five minutes scribbling about anything and everything in my notebook.

"You better be at the pep rally, Bella. It's mandatory," Jessica Stanley sneered when I walked past her. I looked up from the ground and had to stop the smirk that threatened to spread across my face. Jessica was in her cheerleader uniform only; I knew that she was cold. Her lips were even beginning to turn blue; served her right. It was practically snowing. Who in their right mind didn't wear a jacket? (Jessica Stanley: reason #6.)

The blonde had been making my life a nightmare since the fifth grade and all because of a birthday invitation. (Birthday Parties: Reason #7. Birthday Invitations: Reason #7-A). I had forgotten to invite Jessica to my birthday party. Ever since then, she's treated me as if I had the plague, small pox, and leprosy combined.

"I'll be there," I mumbled. As I walked into the sauna that was Forks High, I tripped on the elevated step. It wasn't anything new for me. I always managed to trip on it at least once every week, even though I walked with my head facing down. (Forks is for the coordinated, only: reason #8.)


"Give me an S," the cheerleaders began their cheering, and I rolled my eyes. Majority of the student body participated in the spelling of Spartans. It was loud, off key, and downright nauseating. I thought my ears were going to start bleeding.

When that cheer ended, the squad began asking the crowd if they had spirit. (Too much spirit: reason #9.) I groaned and threw my head back against the wall of the gymnasium. I wanted to slip my headphones on, but the bright red things hanging around my neck weren't inconspicuous in the slightest. They were great, much better than those tiny ones that you stuck in your ear. I had an irrational fear of those little buds getting lodged permanently into my head.

Once the cheering ended, Angela Weber took to the microphone set up in the center of the gym. Angela was the one member on the dance committee that wasn't a cheerleader. She was friends with all of them, but she acted differently than they did. After our fall semester of A.P. English, I had a newfound respect for the girl. Yes, she was overly hyper, bubbly, to say the least, but I had never heard or read darker more heartbreaking poems than those of Angela's. For a girl who wore a smile at all times, she sure wrote pain and despair like no one I knew.

"Good afternoon, Seniors. Many of you know why we're here today. There are approximately two weeks before the Valentine's Day dance, and this year we are turning things around. Though last year's idea was clever, it's been done way one too many times. This year our idea is very different," she began. I watched as every member of the senior class, all forty of us, leaned forward to listen. (School dances seen as fun enjoyable events: reason #10.)

"This year's theme is famous couples." The crowd gasped. I wanted to laugh as people stared down the bleachers at Angela. Everyone was intrigued and slightly confused. Angela gulped loudly; we all heard the echo of it in the speakers, before she continued explaining.

"Each senior will draw a name out of a box and on the day of the dance you will find your match. Boys will pick from the green box and girls out of the yellow one. The committee has compiled a list of famous real, historical, and fictional couples. After you draw your half of the pair, please come to the senior office on the second floor. It's so we can log in who you will be coming as."

That one detail caused an uproar of complaints to arise. People started shouting obscenities down at Angela. For a moment, I felt sorry for her. I thought a riot was going to ensue. Unfortunately for me, it didn't. It would have been awesome.

I had a feeling that the dance theme was not her idea. Even though I didn't quite know Angela-except for a few brief conversations in A.P. English- I got the distinct notion that if it were up to her, our dance would be some sort of Tim Burton-meets- Edgar Allan Poe themed extravaganza. That was one dance I wouldn't mind attending. I could picture the skeletons and crows. The citizens of Forks wouldn't know what hit them; it would be brilliant.

The pep rally ended there. With all the screaming between people, the teachers had to intervene. Eventually, peace was restored. (No ability to rebel: reason #11.) It took twenty minutes and three teachers to get people to draw names.

There were only a few people left in the auditorium by the time I decided to make my way down the bleacher steps. The less people in the gym, the less would be witness to any possible uncoordinated infraction, i.e., me slipping and rolling down the rest of the steps.

"Bella, where do you think you're going?" Lauren Mallory sneered, once I reached the gym floor.

"To class," I answered. "The bell rings in a few minutes."

"Yeah, well. You haven't picked out your half." Jessica sneered.

I rolled my eyes as the two blondes simultaneously and very much like clones, flipped their hair behind their shoulder and put their hands on their hips. It was all very Stepford like, and downright creepy.

"That's because I'm not going to the stupid dance."

It wasn't the smartest thing to say. Two seconds later, a fury of bumbling blondes were directly in front of me. From the corner of my eye, I could just make out a grimacing Angela by the yellow box.

"You have to go, Bella. It's mandatory. There are exactly forty seniors. Twenty boys and twenty girls," Jessica smugly countered. I wanted to wipe the smirk off her overly made up face.

"You can't make a dance mandatory, Jess."

"Yes, we can." (Lauren Mallory: reason #12)

"No you can't. I have the right to refuse to go," I countered and the clones scoffed.

"Then it'll be your fault that some guy at the dance doesn't have a pair. Do you really want to be known as the bitch that ruined the Valentine's Day dance for one of them?"

Fuck you, Jessica. I wanted to scream it, but I was hyper aware of how close we were and the speed at which her fist could fly at this proximity. I did not look good with a black eye; not at all.

"I don't want to go."

"Why do you have to be such a party pooper, Bella? You're ruining the dance for everyone. You should be happy you're even being invited."

Still bitter I see. How could she still bitter about an honest mistake I made when I was ten? It baffled me. I was obviously the better person.

"She's got a point, Jess."

Everyone's heard turned to the voice…Edward Cullen. I hadn't realized he was still in the gym. I had watched as he picked out his half from the box; he had been the first to do so.

"Edward," Jess whined. It was a known fact that Jessica and the rest of the female population of the school wanted a piece of Edward Cullen. He just refused to date any of them. It made me question his sexuality sometimes, but I had caught seen him staring at Lauren's boobs before, so I threw that notion out the window. The girl did have huge tatas; most people stared at them, myself included.

"She's right. You can't make a dance mandatory. It's your fault for assuming everyone would want to go. The theme's cool, the execution is terrible. If Swan doesn't want to go, then let her be."

"You can't be serious," Lauren huffed. "If she doesn't go, it throws off everything."

"So, I won't go, and then the numbers are even."

Everyone's jaw dropped, even mine. Edward had gone to every dance since freshman year. It didn't matter if he didn't have a date for the dance, he still showed up; it was a known fact.

"What are you talking about Edward? You have to go. You've already chosen your half. Besides, you've gone to every dance, and you're supposed to be my other half."

I mentally agreed with Jessica. I didn't want her to know that I was agreeing with her.

"I only went because my brother made me go, but now that he's graduated, I can choose not to go, and isn't it supposed to be anonymous? How can I be your other half?"

I snorted and watched as a Jessica flushed at Edward's accusation. It was mean, but I loved watching Jessica getting put into her place. It was a rare occasion, but it was a glorious one. Awesomely glorious.

"This is all your fault," Lauren screeched and pointed at me.

"What the hell did I do?"

"You're ruining the dance for everybody."

"Shut up, Jess," Edward defended me. "Stop blaming Bella for your lame idea. We all know that you and Lauren came up with this bullshit."

Jessica and Lauren gasped and took a step back. They looked hurt, genuinely hurt, and for a slight second, I felt bad for them, but then my brain decided to reenter my being.

"Do you really think it sucks?" Lauren whimpered. I watched Edward take a deep breath. I could see that he felt guilty for screaming at the girls.

"It's an okay idea, but if people don't want to go, you can't force them."

"But the idea is so cool."

I rolled my eyes. The idea was not cool and neither was Lauren's blatant little push forward of her breasts. Sometimes, I wanted to throw a poncho over her. We got it, Lauren. You have gigantic boobs; now stop showing them off like some common whore.

Edward nodded. That's what made me change my mind. Odd? I know, but I genuinely wanted to see what Edward came dressed as.

I sighed and walked toward Angela and stuck my hand into the yellow box. There were only two slips of paper. I took the large of the two.

"Happy now?"

Jessica and Lauren both huffed and walked away from me and followed Edward as he walked out.

"Do I really have to go?" I asked Angela. She nodded her head affirmatively.

"What did you get?"

I opened the paper and had to smile. I could totally pull this off, but it was the whole actually- having –to-attend- said- dance that bugged me.

"I'm gonna take that smile as you liking the person you got."

Something in the way Angela was staring at me made me reach into the box to see what the other slip of paper said. I struggled to get the paper as Angela tried to pull the box away with my arm still in it.

It was Juliet.

"Did you just add Nancy Spungen to the pile?"

"Sort of?"

"What do you mean "sort of?""

"I held onto it until you came to choose and then I put it back into the box."

She said it so easily, like it was no big deal.

"But what if I had gotten Juliet instead?" I asked, slightly sounding like a smart ass.

"I had faith that you would pick the large slip, most people do."

"Who has Romeo then? And if I didn't pick Juliet, who gets stuck with it? And if you just added Nancy who has Sid?"

Angela shrugged her shoulders and laughed.

"Don't worry about Juliet, I'll take it. As far as your other questions, I have no idea until people come up to the senior office. You won't have to come up obviously."

"Thanks, I guess. At least I can attempt Nancy, even though she's blond."

"You better buy a wig. I'm expecting something awesome, Bella. You of all people should be able to do her some justice."

I smiled shyly at her and walked out of the gym and toward class. Biology was the one class I enjoyed. Edward Cullen was my lab partner.

Edward Cullen: Reason #1 for staying in Forks – sad but true.

My dad is reason #2; I'm a terrible daughter.


Edward Cullen was and had always been one of the better-looking people in school. Okay, Edward Cullen is and will always be the best-looking person in Forks, Washington. No one here really hit the gene pool lottery.

There was no denying that Edward Cullen was gorgeous. With bright green eyes, unruly hair, and his tall, lean physique, he was every teenage girls dreams. To top it all off, he was nice, sincerely and truly nice.

We only ever talked during lab, the only class we had together. We ran in different circles, but he always said hello to me in the hallway. It was a small gesture, a small wave and a little smile accompanying his hello. It never ceased to make me smile. Though I considered myself seemingly antisocial when it came to the caste system of Forks High, Edward made me want to partake in school activities. He was just that kind of person.

He also had the most extraordinary taste in literature and music. Edward and I had had several arguments over which of William Blake's poems was better, why Kurt Vonnegut was a satirical genius, and why most banned books were banned. We also debated about how he was wrong to say that the Rolling Stones were better than The Beatles.

The thing about Edward Cullen was that no matter how hard I tried, and I tried so fucking hard, I couldn't stop from falling for him. It was ridiculous. Until our senior year, I had succeeded. We never seriously interacted. Even though we had gone to school together since we were kids. Different circles, remember? However, when we got paired as lab partners, my hormones decided to catch up to the female hormonal trend of Forks High.

Stupid hormones.

Damn Elvis-like sideburns.

And those pouty lips.

And that lovely hair.

And that handsome face.

Damn, Edward Cullen's parents.


"Sweet shirt," Edward said when I finally sat down. I made it to class with ten seconds to spare.

"Thanks." I blushed. Of course I did. I blushed anytime Edward so much as took a deep breath . It was simple mathematics.

A+ B=C²

If A equals Edward breathing and B equals Bella then C² equals my two cheeks turning tomato red. Possible substitutions for A include: Edward speaking, Edward staring, Edward licking his lips, or Edward smiling.


Yeah, very.

I played with the hem of my tattered and faded Siouxsie Sioux shirt. I wanted to compliment him on his shirt as well, but Mr. Banner began to babble on about cross-pollination. (Cock blocker, Mr. Banner: reason #13)

"I like yours too," I eventually whispered.

Edward smiled. I felt my stomach flip and my heart stop. I'm aware that my heart stopping would mean that I was dead, but just go with me here. It certainly felt that way. He had the whitest teeth imaginable.

He was beautiful.

Devastatingly beautiful.

Unattainably beautiful. (Never going to date Edward: reason #14)

"Thanks. Sid Vicious gets a bad rap."

"He killed his girlfriend," I argued, startlingly Edward. Instead of beginning our lab for that day, we began a small debate about Sid and Nancy.

"That's all speculation."

"They found him passed out and Nancy stabbed to death in their hotel room bathtub."

"So maybe he passed out before she was murdered."

I scoffed. He did it. Everyone knew that.

"Come on," I goaded. "He ended up overdosing a short time after. That wasn't an accident."

"Say what you want Swan, but I say he's innocent."

"Of course, you would," I huffed teasingly.

"What does that mean?" he asked with a hint of a smile on his face.

"You think the Rolling Stones are better than the Beatles. If you've forgotten, the Rolling Stones also have had a brush with the law in terms of a death."

"Again. All speculation, Bella. When you have some hard facts, then we'll have a real argument. You're a cops daughter; I'm surprised you don't know that. Until then, we have to do this bee pollination lab."

I loved when he teased me like that.

"Okay, whatever. Who'd you get for the stupid Valentine's Day dance?"

Edward chuckled and pulled out the green piece of paper with his half.

"Romeo. Wow. I happen to know who Juliet is."

I was kind of crushed. I would have rather not known, but the idea of Edward in tights made me smile. I have a sick, twisted sense of enjoyment.

"Really? Is it you?" he asked excitedly and for a second, I wanted to answer yes to see his reaction, but I was afraid it wouldn't be all that grand.

"Yeah, it's Angela."

"Oh, cool." His response was subdued and almost disappointed.

"Angela's cool. You guys will have a great time."

"Yeah, she writes some really good poetry."

"Have you read some? They're so awesome."

He nodded and went back to work. I began to help him, but five minutes later Edward turned to me.

"Are you going to the dance?"

"Probably not."


"Because I'm a big, unattractive, spazzy dork with two left feet."

"Spaz, yes. Dork, sometimes. Unattractive, I disagree."

My heart stopped. Again, remember not actually. I don't have a heart condition.

I remained silent because I had utterly no idea how to respond to that. Edward Cullen had admitted that he didn't find me unattractive. That was HUGE in my book. I was already writing out the newest entry into my notebook in my head:

Edward Cullen doesn't think I'm hideous.

My heart stopped.


I might actually have to go to the dance.

Where can I find a cut off leather jacket?

He thinks I'm decent looking!*sigh*.

Edward eventually cleared his throat to end the uncomfortable tension between us.

"But if you end up going, who will you be going as?"

"Oddly enough," I said and passed him the piece of paper with Nancy's name on it. Edward busted out in a fit of laughter.

"I think you'll make an awesome, Nancy. If anyone in Forks could pull it off, it would be you."

Edward Cullen had made my life.


The two weeks leading up to the dance flew by, literally. I can't even begin to tell you what happened, except that I ended up going to a thrift shop in Seattle to get the necessary items for my outfit. I even went out and got a blonde wig with dark roots. (Everything cool is too far away from home: reason #15.)

Getting ready was a bitch. The leopard printed vest and leather jacket were easy, but the leather pants were a pain in the ass. I had to wiggle in every which direction to get them on completely. My combat boots, though not wholly accurate to Nancy's footwear choices, were super comfortable. There was no way in hell I was going to wear heels. It was not going to happen. Nor was I going to wear a skirt with fishnet stockings. Not on my life. Last thing I needed to do was fall and flash all of Forks my tighty-whities.

My accessories were as accurate as I could find them. I found a replica gun necklace to match hers and some spiked out bracelets. My dad even let me borrow a pair of hand cuffs to wear one half of them. Sid and Nancy were often photographed with their hands handcuffed together.

My dad freaked out when I walked downstairs in the entire ensemble. Besides the blonde wig that altered my appearance, I paled out my skin even more with some concealer and had bright red blush and cherry red lipstick. I even copied the way she had a big, black ring of eyeliner around her eyes. I looked pretty close to how she did. I impressed myself with my attention to detail, even though I doubted that anyone at school would know who Nancy Spungen was.

My dad snapped a few photos before letting me leave. Though my dad and I had a very touch-and-go relationship, I loved him, and I knew he loved me. It was little moments like that when my dad and I could agree that Sid killed Nancy that I adored.



I blasted the Sex Pistols in my truck the entire way to school. I kept a small radio on the passenger side of the car, and I popped in one of my dad's Sex Pistols cassette tapes.

It was grainy.

It was raw.

It was fucking punk rock.

When I arrived at school, the senior's parking lot was already half full, and I could see Edward's car, meaning he was already inside. The butterflies in my stomach picked up. I was already nervous about walking into the dance, but that put me on the verge of nausea.

I walked swiftly across the parking lot and halfway to the door I could hear the music thumping in the gymnasium. Stepping inside was odd. There were so many people inside, more than I thought. I didn't stop to think that people might carpool.

"Bella!" Angela shouted as I walked to get a cup of soda.

"Angela, you look awesome. I love the dress; it's so authentic." She honestly looked just like Juliet, and not the modern Claire Danes Juliet, either.

"You look so wicked," she commented.


"Yeah, Bella. You look like you're gonna kick some ass," Ben added. Ben was Angela's boyfriend and one of the few people in school who I talked to, but only when I was around Angela.

"Thanks. Are you Romeo?"

"Yep. I switched with someone."

"Who?" I asked. I already knew that Edward had Romeo.

"Me," his voice quickly followed my question.

I turned around and was given the best sight I could have ever been given. My dreams could not have conjured up this vision. Edward Cullen, shirtless with leather pants, shackles at his hips, combat boots, spiked hair and the famous Rabbit "R" padlock choker.

"Holy shit!" I breathed out. Edward smirked.

"Ditto. You look so perfect."

"Th-th-thanks" I stuttered.

Angela giggled and watched as she walked away with Ben to the dance floor, leaving me in a pool of drool next to Edward. She eventually told me that while I was arguing with Jessica and Lauren, she had switched out the other original pairing in the box (Donald and Ivana Trump) for Sid and Nancy. Since Ben had been absent that day, it worked out in her favor.

"So…Nancy. Is this half for me?" Edward flicked the unoccupied end of the handcuffs on my left wrist. I nodded.

"You know, I've only ever been in love with a beer bottle and a mirror, but tonight I think I may have fallen in love with something…someone else."

My stomach flipped. He quoted Sid. Those were Sid's actual words, well, at least the first half about the beer bottle and mirror. He even sneered his lip.

"Join me on the dance floor, Nancy?" he asked. He slipped his hand into the handcuffs and locked it.

"Are these real?"

"Yeah, my dad had an extra pair."

"Cool," he commented.

"Yeah." It was all I could say. I was awestricken that I was handcuffed to Edward Cullen, and that I was actually dancing at a school dance.

"I apologize if I step on your feet and if people start laughing at how ridiculous I look."

"Well, you know, like, I don't really give a fuck what the general public think."

More Sid! He quoted Sid like it was nobody's business.

We mostly just jumped around, very close to each other because of the handcuffs, but I ended up enjoying myself much more than I thought I would. Whenever one of us had to stop for a bit, we had to walk off together. The only time we were separated was when both of us had to use the restroom, but the moment I stepped out, Edward quickly handcuffed us.

By the end of the dance, my stomach hurt from laughing, my wig was in my hand instead of my head, and Edward's chest was glistening with sweat.

Yes, glistening.

When the DJ announced the last song, Edward smiled sadly at me and brought me in closer as we slowed danced. It was singlehandedly the greatest moment of my young life.

The song eventually ended and Edward slowly unlatched our hands before lifting up my wrist and kissing the red mark there. My stomach once again flipped and a flash of heat traveled up my spine.

"I had an amazing time tonight, Bella. I'm really glad you came."

"Me too."

"Can I walk you to your truck?"

"I'd like that."

I waited anxiously for Edward to get our coats from the coat check area the cheerleaders had set up. I couldn't believe how magical this night had been. It was corny, but I had never been happier, and the fact that even Edward had said that he had had a good time with me, made it even better.

We walked quietly and slowly to my truck. Both of us were bundled into our coats, trying to hide ourselves from the harsh wind. I kept my head facing down the entire time and watched our combat boots stepping alongside each other. Edward stopped right by the driver's side and waited for me to arrive.

"Thank you for the lovely evening, Bella."

"Me? I should be thanking you. Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he quietly replied. He was smiling down at me. I couldn't help but smile back, but I had something I had to ask; it had been eating at me all night. I kept it to myself because I honestly didn't want to hear the answer I was dreading.

"Why did you switch cards with Ben?"

"'Cause I wanted to be the Sid to your Nancy."

My heart skipped a beat.

"I like you, Bella, a lot. You're different from most of the girls in Forks. You've got great taste in music, and you aren't afraid to argue with me. And yes, I know that the Beatles are better than the Rolling Stones. I just like to hear your voice when you argue with me. It almost sounds like you're growling; it's kind of hot."

My eyes widened. My jaw dropped to the point where my teeth clinked together when I closed my mouth.

"Did I scare you?"

"No," I replied all too quickly. "Just shocked. I didn't think-"

"I think you're amazing, Bella. You're funny. You're smart. You're sarcastic like no one I know, and I love it. You're my Nancy."

"Wow." That was my only reaction. I didn't know how to react or what rational thing to say. What I actually wanted to say was something along the lines of "Oh my god. I love you, Edward. You're my Sid. Let me have your babies."

"Yeah," he whispered.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?"

Edward threw his head back and laughed loudly.

"That's why I like you, Bella. Silly comments like that."

"So you're not?" I teased.

"No, but I would like to kiss you."



Edward leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on my lips. I closed my eyes and let myself feel his lips against mine. They were slightly chapped from the wind, but I didn't care. It was the perfect kiss. It was just one sweet, simple kiss. He just pushed his lips ever so slightly against mine, just the smallest amount of pressure before pulling back.

I heard him chuckle a few seconds later and realized I still had my eyes closed.

"Could I take you out sometime? To dinner? Maybe a movie?"

"I'd like that. A lot."

"Okay." He smiled. "I'll call you sometime tomorrow. Goodnight Nancy. Happy Valentine's Day."

He leaned forward once more and kissed me gently before walking away to his car.

"Goodnight Sid. Don't cause too much destruction," I shouted. He turned around, stuck his tongue out, and threw up the horns at me. He smiled and turned back around.

I stepped into the cab of my car and made my way home, once again listening to the Sex Pistols. I was happy. Even my dad noticed when I walked inside.

"Good night?"

"The best."