A/N ~ heres the next part! :)

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all the characters... im just messing around with them ;)


15th October

I can't concentrate on anything but the fact that Edward is coming over on Sunday. By some miracle, the 'rents are going to a wedding on Saturday and staying over so they won't be home until Sunday night late and my mother won't be barging in, proffering Ribena and oatcakes.

Alice told me that Edward has a terrible rep and that he's left a "trail of broken hearts in every school from here to New York." And that he and Maria have this strange contest to see who can get off with the most people but it's really because they have this love/hate relationship and they're trying to score points off each other.

"Alice, have you seen Edward?" I asked her incredulously as we sat on the wall by the Nursery Block and split a bag of chips between classes. "He's gorgeous. If he wanted Maria, he could have her. He doesn't need to play games."

But Alice just gave me a funny look the changed the subject.

I can't seem to settle. I wish Sunday was here and then I wish that it was never, ever going to happen. When I'm alone inside my head, I have these amazing conversations with Edward and I'm funny and intelligent and just a little bit quirky. But in reality I know that I'm just a stupid, dumb girl who's too chicken to even speak to him.

17th October

In 24 hours Edward will be at my house. It's just too awful to contemplate. And if I wasn't stressed enough, Alice invited herself round to stay over tonight. I like her and all but I just wanted to be alone tonight so I could work myself up into a hysterical state.

18th October

Alice's as good as dead. She came around, spiked my diet Pepsi with Vodka, and then persuaded me that it'd be a really good idea to cut a fringe in. "you've got really cool eyebrows, but no-one can see 'em," she kept saying. And I felt so woozy that in the end she just kind of lunged at me with the scissors and butchered my hair. Then she threw up on my mom's Art Deco rug.

Edward is coming around in half an hour (excuse me while I go have a mild heart attack). The lounge stinks of dettol, I've got a killer headache, and worst of all, my so called fringe in crooked and curling up at the ends. I wish I was dead, no I don't – I wish everyone else was dead.

18th October – but later

By the time Edward actually turned up I was practically hyperventilating. Every time I looked in the mirror my fringe had become even more lame. It was flicking out at the edges and just wouldn't lie flat. Did I mention that it was completely uneven too?

I was just in the middle of changing, so I was wearing my knee length hipster skirt and the shirt that I slept in, when the doorbell rang. I swear to God my limbs went into spasms. I managed to open the door and Edward was slouched nonchalantly (my word of the week) against the door jamb, dressed in all black. He slowly uncoiled himself and smiled, smiled at me in a not ever assuring way, and then handed me the carrier bag.

"I thought we could have these with our dinner," he said, with another smile that was a millimetre away from being a smirk.

I just stared at my feet, but eventually I took the bag and looked inside.

He'd brought cookies. When I glanced at him, he was staring at me intently. I was my bloody fringe wasn't it?

"You look different," he said after I'd just stood there and gazed at him for five minutes, then, he reached out his hand and lifted my chin. My stomach dipped all the way down to the silver nail varnish my toes. I pulled away 'cause I just couldn't bear it any longer.

"It's my fringe. I had a run-in with a pair of scissors," I muttered and he was like, "Wow, you actually talk!"

And then we were sitting on the stairs and I told him about Alice and he said in this strange, strained voice, "Oh, that sounds like Alice."

I looked at our knees and mine just looked so small and childish compared to his. Even his knees seem dangerous. Does that sound strange?

Anyway, to cut a long story short, quite literally, we ended up in the bathroom so Edward could tidy up my fringe. He was really into the idea and I figured that it couldn't look any worse.

He didn't actually seem to be interested in me, but my fringe held a fatal attraction for him.

It was very, very intimate and Edward knelt in front of me, cupping my chin and turning my head this way and that before he started snipping. I'd always vaguely thought that all boys who cut hair had to be gay – but Edward seemed so not gay. The way he went about cutting my fringe was more about me being a sculpture or a drawing and him being an artist, moulding clay or smudging charcoal.

And then when he'd finished, he wouldn't let me look. Instead he did something that freaked me out. He told me to close my eyes and he started, very gently, blowing on my face to get rid of all the icky little hairs. He was holding me by the shoulders to stop me from moving and I wanted him to kiss me so badly. More than I've wanted anything.

But he didn't.

He just turned me around to face the mirror and I have to admit my hair was happening. My fringe was really really short, but it suited me. That devastating half-smile which turns me into a puddle of not-quite-set-jelly was back on Edward's face again but he just said, "I've just given you Jean Seberg hair. It looks really cute."

I was sort of "aw-shucks"-ing but he just said dead seriously, "your eyebrows are fantastic." Then the moment was gone, so I went downstairs to make some tea.

But the kettle had barely boiled before Edward had to go. It was just "time I wasn't here." We didn't even take any photos or talk. One moment he was in the kitchen dunking digestives into his tea and I was summoning up the courage to open my mouth and form complete sentences, the next we were out the front door. He didn't even say goodbye. I watched him disappear down the street and as he got further and further away the sadder I got. Then I realised the 'rents would be home any minute so I went to inspect the rug for permanent puke damage.

Later on, I googled Jean Seberg, pretty in a gamine way...or was it just my fringe?

I have to stop this obsessing about him but it's almost like I want to consume Edward whole. When I'm with him, I'm a different person. I become really aware of myself and I'm not sure I like it. I don't know. Why is this whole boy/girl thing so confusing?


aww poor Bella, she seems to be having a hard time trying to get Edward to even talk to her properly. poor girl is gun sky.

anyway, if you could please please please please leave me a review or alert this story so you'll get emailed when this story is updated! it would be much much appreciated!

maybe i'll send sneak peeks to those who review! xD

thanks heaps for reading!

~Abby