I do not own Twilight. If I did, Edward would have had his clothes off more often.

My betas Kim, Catherine, and Jenny, you're life-savers! Andrea, my pre-reader, you're a heart-saver.

Readers, you're just awesome.


Teen birth rates have dropped fifteen percent since 2007.

With the exception of Virginia and North Dakota.




Chapter Nine

June turns into July, and I'm another week pregnant.

"This week your baby's bones are hardening, and he or she can close her fist," James reads from her phone.

I roll from my back to my stomach and sigh. "Can't I have one normal afternoon?"

Since Edward and I ditched the idea of offing the kid, I've spent the last seven days asking myself why. At the time, backing out of the abortion seemed like the right thing to do—I was scared out of my mind and full of shame—but after we drove off, and by the time egg started to dry on my truck and in my hair, I began to second-guess myself.

If I would have sucked it up and not chickened out, I wouldn't be pregnant right now; the last one hundred and sixty-eight hours wouldn't have been wasted questioning my sanity, but doing normal shit, like sleeping until noon and skateboarding. But no, I grew a conscience—which was always kind of there, if I'm being honest—and decided my child's life was worth living. Even at the expense of my own.

How very pro-life of me.

I'll be sidewalk counseling and egg chucking in no time.

James tosses her iPhone into her beach bag. She scoffs. "There's nothing normal about this." She waves her hands over me, and then nods her head toward the beach.

I don't have to look over my shoulder to know what she's talking about. Today's my first Saturday off in three weeks. Naturally, I wanted to enjoy it on the beach with my best friend. Naturally, so did Edward. And naturally, so did every other kid in La Push, including Dani and Remington. I don't know how we all ended up with the same damn day off, but the stars aligned, and they are not in my favor.

Ex-boyfriend's riding waves with Baby Daddy. And Baby Daddy's girlfriend is standing with her feet in the water, eating peanut butter and jelly on a tortilla because she said they didn't have bread at her house.

"It's just as good," she claimed when I made a face. "Try it," she had said, offering me a bite of her lunch.

I almost threw up.

Initially, only my mast and I occupied the shoreline at the back of my house. My pickup is parked on the sand, the radio is up, and the sunshine is out, blonding my hair and tanning my skin. We made sandwiches and cut watermelon into bite-sized pieces. I put sunscreen on James' back, and she put it on mine. There was no talk about babies or Smirks or when I'm going to tell Charlie he's a grandfather. It was just my girlfriend, the summer, and me—normal.

Then Edward walked by with his surfboard.

The dread-guilt-love I feel for the boy flared up as soon as I saw him. We haven't been spending a lot of time together since our trip to Seattle. He's taken on a few extra shifts at Charlie's, and I really don't feel like facing him. Or any of it, for that matter. I work. I go home. I take care of my dad. I hang with James, have morning sickness at random times, and question what the fuck I was thinking.

That's all.

That's all I've done in the last week.

Well, I've also avoided Remington.

He showed up this afternoon with his board, too, a while after Felix appeared with his.

Dani California, with PB&J wrapped in a flour tortilla and a Coke wrapped in a brown paper bag, surfaced sometime after the boys.

Now it's a party because Alice and Jasper joined us, and Rosalie is supposed to come by. Remington was talking about getting a bundle of wood so we can start a bonfire later tonight. Apparently, Felix doesn't have a problem running to the store to grab some hot dogs—kosher—so we can cook them on the fire.

"And s'mores!" James suggested, when he asked if there was anything else he could get.

I tried to play coy and act like I was too tired to surf when the rest of my friends, sans Edward, who hasn't left the water since he got in, got on my case about not being in the ocean. Truth be told, I don't know if I can even surf pregnant, and after the fall I took with Edward a few weeks back on his skateboard, I don't want to chance it until I talk to a doctor. It would suck to lose this baby over something stupid like surfing when I've already axed the abortion and took an egg to the head in the process. I still have a bruise above my eyebrow.

Of course, I have great friends, so they gave me a hard time.

"What's wrong, Sail? Are you sick?" Jasper asked.

"Is it that time of the month, girl?" Alice questioned.




"It's good to know I'm not the only thing you're avoiding," Remy remarked after I declined his nine hundredth invitation into the sea.

They're off my back now. Except for James. As soon as our uninvited pals gave up on getting me into the water, she decided looking up fetal developments and shit would be a good idea.

"When do you guys plan on telling them?" James asks, turning to her back. She leans on her elbows, letting the sun soak into her face and chest.

And that is the question.

When are we going to tell them? And what them are we going to tell first?

Obviously, I should tell my dad I'm pregnant before I mention anything to my ex-boyfriend. He's my father, and he may be a little … out there, but I owe Charlie. He's going to be angry as it is; I don't need to make it worse by making sure he's the last to know. The thought of him finding out from somebody else—this town is too small for its own good—terrifies me. And if I tell Remy before Charlie, the chances of that happening are high.

I have no doubt Remington is going to react badly and irrationally. I keep trying to put myself in his shoes. What would I do if my Remington knocked up some girl? Or worse, one of my friends?

I don't know.

It's inconceivable to me.

I honestly believe he would never do anything like I have.

But it would break my heart.

At least my father can't get rid of me; by law he has to keep me until I'm eighteen, baby or no baby. Ex-boyfriend can, though, and he will. He'll move on, and chances are I'll eventually see him with someone new. He'll pass on my promise ring. He'll be someone else's prom date. Someone else's boyfriend.

And I'll be changing diapers.

I lay my head on my arm. "Soon," I answer.

I close my eyes, willing away thoughts about broken hearts and tiny toes. I concentrate on the warmth from the sun seeping into my skin. I listen to the waves crashing onto the shore. I hear my friends laughing and the music playing.

I feel Remington's lips press on to the back of my neck.

At first, I smile. He smells like sea salt, and he drips drops of ocean onto my heated body. Ex-boyfriend's fingers slip under the tie of my bikini top.

"Just looking for tan lines," he explains when I open my eyes.

I'm not smiling anymore. Especially when just a finger under my tie changes to his entire palm sliding down my back. He tries to kiss me, but I turn my head.

"Stop making me beg for it," he whispers. His surf-soaked curls trickle water onto my face. "What do I have to do?" he asks.

Just then, someone throws their surfboard onto the beach beside where Remington and I are lying. It blows sand all over our bodies and in my eyes.

I scream. And I stand up, pushing my ex-boyfriend off of me.

"What the hell?" I shriek, brushing sand from my face.

"Sorry," Edward, who's finally graced us with his presence, mumbles.

Taking a quick look around through watery eyes, it's only Edward, James, Remington, and me here. Everyone else is playing in the waves.

"That was a real jerk move, dick," I snap, picking up my towel to shake it out.

Remington gets up before I shake sand all over him, and James stands as if to help me. Cockface Smirks steps back, in an apparent shitty mood. He's peeling his wetsuit off, giving me the evil eye.

"Fucker," I mouth.

He flips me off.

James grabs the other end of my towel.

"I've got this," I tell her.

She doesn't let go, though. "Let's shake it over here, away from everyone's stuff."

"What?" I question, irritated. "No. It's not even that—"

The all-too-real look she's giving me cuts me off, and I do what she wants. Guilt prevents me from looking back at Remington. He's not naive; he knows it doesn't take two girls to shake out a beach towel. It's only a matter of time before that boy gives up on me. Either because I tell him I'm pregnant with Edward's kid or because he grows tired of my shit.

James stands beside me, and with each of us holding a corner of my white towel with pink stripes, we shake.

"Dude, Sail, you're totally showing," my best friend whispers.

I look down at my chest. "Nipple?" I ask. My cheeks redden.

My breasts have filled in a lot lately. I tore my room apart this morning because my bathing suit tops wouldn't fit over my new additions. I almost decided to run over to Charlie's shop to snag a new two piece when I finally found a bikini that worked. I guess it was just wishful thinking.

With one hand, I adjust my bathing suit. "I don't think so, James. Or can you see through the material?" I ask, wondering if thin yellow nylon is the problem.

James looks over her shoulder. "No," she hisses, looking back at me. "Your stomach, Bella."

My heart stops. "What?"

I drop the towel.

She picks it up and starts folding. "I swear I didn't notice earlier, and I don't think Remington did now, but Sail, it's there."

My hands cover my belly. It doesn't feel any rounder than normal, and looking down on it, I don't see anything. James wouldn't just say this, though, so I take her word for it and walk away.

I tread past my truck, up the steps to the porch, through the back door of my house, around the kitchen table, and straight to my room.

And she's right.

I'm showing.

Standing in front of my mirrored closet doors, my growing baby is reflecting back at me. To anyone who doesn't know any better, they might guess that I ate too much watermelon, drank too much water, or maybe I just gained a few pounds since the start of summer. But James knows, and she recognized what this roundness in my stomach is right away. Esme's a mom, so she'll probably figure it out. Dani's mom has, like, six kids, so Edward's girlfriend might be experienced enough to spot my spawn. My dad might not catch on because he's a boy and my dad, and I'm his baby girl who can't do anything wrong, but this won't remain a secret much longer.

"What's wrong?"

Edward's voice startles me, and I jump. He laughs, seemingly in a much better mood than he was when he was tossing his surfboard around.

I hold my hand over my fast-beating heart. "You scared me," I say, trying to calm my pulse.

Edward enters my room. He has sand stuck on his skin up to his knees, and on his stomach and chest. I'm positive if he turns around, it'll be on his back, too. He smells like Hawaiian Tropic, and his hair is in need of some saltless water and a cut. The freckles across his nose are darkening as the summer progresses; they're scattered on his arms and shoulders, too.

He sits on my bed.

Instead of screaming for him to get his sandy body off my comforter, I turn back toward the mirror and say, "We're running out of time."

His eyes find mine. "To do what?"

I rub my palms over my belly. "Look."

And he does. And he sees.

"Shit," he says lowly.

Edward stands up. He moves behind me and lingers for a second before reaching for my hips, turning me around. Face to face with the boy who has been my friend forever, I drop my hands from my stomach, only to have Edward replace them with one of his.

In spite of the bad feeling about what's to come and what's already happened, I smile.

The right side of Edward's mouth lifts. "This is insane."

In this simple, sweet moment, I don't hate that our baby has let itself show. I'm not thinking about Remington or Dani, or how afraid I am to tell our families about what we've conceived. I'm focused on Edward's smile and its perfect sweep. I'm falling in love with the feel of his touch on my skin. I'm deciding that if this had to happen, I'm glad it happened with Smirks.

At the sound of the back door opening, Edward and I put some space between us. I'm still under a spell, though, and I want to spend the rest of the summer with his palm on my expanding belly.

"Are you guys here?" Felix calls from the kitchen.

Edward clears his throat. "Back here."

At the soft thud of Felix's footsteps on wood floors, I move around this boy and walk toward my dresser. I slip a loose fitting tank top over my head, and once it's on, I ask Edward if he can see anything. He shakes his head just as Felix blesses us with his company.

"It smells like sex in here," he says with a smile.

"Very funny," I reply, turning a little red.

Truthfully, sex doesn't sound like a half-bad idea. Blame it on hormones—the pregnancy or the teenager ones—but I've been in the mood the last few days. Of course, the crippling depression I've been under has made things a little weird. There's nothing like being hot out of your mind, while at the same time being unable to stop crying.

But right now, I feel better.

"I'm going to run to the store with James to get the hot dogs," Felix says. "Do either one of you need anything?"

I shake my head, biting my bottom lip. Looking at Edward, all sandy and mostly naked, sex definitely doesn't sound like a terrible notion.

"Are you sure, Sail?" Felix asks. "No pregnancy cravings or anything?"

My head snaps from Edward's direction to Felix's. "Did you seriously just ask that?" I question, not at all amused.

He holds his hands up in surrender, slowly backing out of the room. He looks at Edward. "Your girlfriend. The one outside," he clarifies, "is looking for you."




Symptoms of pregnancy: tiredness, morning sickness, temporary insanity.

That's the only explanation for what happened in my bedroom with Edward. Falling in love with his touch on my skin—have I lost my fucking mind? All of that happened—the tenderness, the love I felt for the baby, the thought of sex—while Baby Daddy's girlfriend and Remington were right outside the window, wondering where we were.

I lost touch with reality for a few moments. Dani's my friend, Edward's not mine, and even though Remy and I are done, I need to show a little respect to the memory of us. He's already going to look like a fool when news about my pregnancy gets out. The least I can do is not fuck his friend … again.

But why can't I get Smirks off of my mind?

The hot dogs are long gone, cooked and consumed. The sun is set, and the moon is out. My friends and I are still on the beach, draining every minute out of this day turned night. A few of them are sipping on beers; I'm drinking cranberry juice out of a red Solo cup. The last of the wood was thrown in the bonfire a couple of hours ago, and now it's starting to burn out. White smoke seeps into the salted air.

"Tired?" James asks from above me.

On a blanket laid out just for me, I'm lying with my head on James' lap. Felix is beside her; he lets her swig his brew every so often.

I nod, yawn, and stretch—slightly dramatic, but not necessarily untrue. It's a known fact that creating another human being inside of your body is exhausting, especially through your first trimester. Throw in morning sickness and nonstop emotional turmoil, and you have the makings for one tired girl. I could stay up if I wanted to. I'm amongst friends, the music is good, and the dwindling fire feels great on my cold nose. But I don't want to.

Edward's right across the fire, and beside him is his girlfriend. I've been trying really hard not to think ill thoughts of her all night, but I'm not hard enough. Streaming images of pulling her hair and punching her in the throat have been on my mind since someone threw the match in the fire. The father to my child is smart enough to keep a relative distance from Dani, but she's a persistent twat. One minute she's sitting on his lap, kissing his face, and the next, she's jumping on his back, trying to get him to take a walk with her.

And now I'm wondering if he plans on leaving her at all. I'm questioning what I'll do if he decides Dani's worth keeping even though I'm having his kid. And what if she loves him enough to keep him, too?

There's no way in hell I could stand by while Dani California plays stepmommy to my kid.

I get on my feet, dusting sand from my hands. "I'm going to bed," I announce.

I have to go before I kill Edward and his girlfriend.

Making my rounds and saying goodbye to my friends doesn't take too long. I'm quick with my farewells, not allowing anyone the opportunity to trap me in a conversation. That's until I reach Remington, anyway. He doesn't let me off the hook with a promise to call him tomorrow. He asks me if I want him to come in with me. "I'll stay until you fall asleep," he says.

Without thinking, I blurt, "No."

My outburst was rude, not entirely deliberate, and wounding. Remington scowls, not at all as passive as he has been, and our crowd of friends dim their conversations and stare, as if they're about to witness a boyfriend and girlfriend go at it.

In an effort to save face—Remington's more than my own—I lift on my tippy toes and circle my arms around his neck. I kiss the corner of his mouth before placing my lips at his ear and whispering, "Forgive me."

With a grip much tighter than my own, Remington answers, "For anything."

The show of public affection works, and the commotion around us returns to normal. Since he'll never let me go, and because I really want to go inside the house, I pull away from Remy first. I pat his chest, smile sadly, and reply, "I'll hold you to that."

Making my exit from what has been a very long day on the beach, I walk right past Edward and Dani California without a word.

Exactly how worn out I really am doesn't hit me until I'm shutting the back door, closing myself inside the house, and shutting everyone else out. All of a sudden my skin feels sore and red, tender and sunburned. My stomach growls, because after a round of baby sickness this morning, all I've eaten today is a sandwich, a couple of bites of watermelon, and a bite of James' hotdog. My hair feels dirty, and my eyes sting when I blink. All I want is a long shower and my bed.

Taking a deep breath, I push away from the door, walk to the fridge, and open it up. The cool air feels great on my skin, and after choosing a string cheese and a bottle of water, I close it using my hip. Just as I'm unscrewing the cap to my Aquafina, Edward walks through the same door I just closed to keep everyone out.

"What do you want?" I ask before taking a sip of my drink.

Edward locks the door. He walks past me into the living room without answering my question or acknowledging my existence.

I shrug, mouthing, "Whatever."

After taking a few more swigs from my bottle of water, I screw the cap back on and leave it on the counter. I walk right into Smirks as I pass from the kitchen to the family room, smashing my face on his shoulder.

He laughs; I wince.

"Jerk," I groan.

He stops laughing long enough to ask, "Where's your dad?"

I sniff the air, and for the first time since I entered the house, I realize I don't smell the scent of Charlie's habit. "I thought he was here," I answer.

"Well, he's not."

I move around Edward, heading toward the bathroom for that shower I need. "Cool," I say.

As I put some distance between Baby Daddy and me, he reaches for my arm. "Bella," he starts.

I pull myself free. "Leave me alone," I mumble.

Like his sperm, he's persistent, so he follows me. I try to close the bathroom door on him, but it's already been established that doors can't hold Edward back. He pushes himself through, showing no regard or respect for my wishes. The bathroom is too small to put up too much of a fight, so I push him in the chest, but let him stay.

"I'm taking a shower, so unless you want to see me naked…" I trail off, pulling my hoodie over my head.

My fixer leans back against the wall. "What are you trying to play, Sail?"

I drop my sweater to the floor. "What?" I ask, confused.

His jaw clenches. Dark grey eyes stare hard. Edward's still shirtless, and it's completely distracting. His skin bears hints of a sunburn, too, and I swear the freckles on his shoulders are darker than they were this afternoon. Behind smoldering eyes, hot skin, and shoulders I could sink my teeth into, there's exhaustion in him that matches mine. Sometimes I forget this isn't only happening to me.

Right as I'm beginning to feel sorry for him, Smirks fires with, "Are you still fucking Remington?"

I'm so taken aback, I actually gasp—after-school special, over-the-top dramatic, hands over my mouth, eyes wide open, taking a step back—gasp. I even top it with an honest-to-truth, horrified, "You monster!"

Edward kind of smiles before his expression returns to demon status. "I'm the monster? You're the one kissing another dude while you're pregnant with my kid."

It's the truth, but fuck him.

"Fuck you!" I shriek.

In fear of killing this jerk with my bare hands, I turn away and push the shower curtain open.

"You have no idea," I say, turning the water on. "You have no clue how it feels to be me."

Edward laughs out loud. "Shut up!"

I turn around, pointing my finger at him. The bathroom is beginning to fill with sticky steam. "This is all your fault, and don't act like I haven't had to sit around and watch you with Dani every single day, Edward."

This time, he's the one shocked by what I have to say. His eyebrows lift. "My fault?"

I cross my arms over my chest. "Yeah, you kissed me on my birthday."

Now he points at me. "You showed me your tits."

"I was taking my sweater off!" I yell. "That wasn't an invitation for you to get me pregnant!"

He backs into the corner between the door and the wall. He knows I'm right. He's right, too. Yet, we're both absolutely wrong. We made a shitty decision when having sex, but neither one of us intended for this to happen. We didn't get pregnant on purpose.

However, I don't think this argument has anything to do with the night of my seventeenth birthday.

So I come out with it. "Are you going to break up with her?"

Edward looks down at his feet. He shrugs. "Do I have a choice?"

Rage gushes through my veins, and even though I don't entirely understand it, I see red. The thought of him running around with his girlfriend, as if nothing has changed, while I carry his child is maddening. I won't share him, and I won't share my kid. Dani California will not make this family of three a family of four.

Jealousy is one hell of an emotion.

"What about Remington?" Edward finally asks. Any sign of doubt is gone from his tone.

My temper flares, and I stomp my foot as I ask with a raised voice, "What about him, Smirks? Remington and I are not together. We haven't been this entire time."

He laughs at me. "Bullshit."

I roll my eyes. "We broke up, and you know it." I scoff, leaning back against the sink. "Are you still sleeping with Dani?"

He shakes his head.

"Edward," I say tiredly. "Get out so I can take a shower."

The space we're in is filled with warm steam thanks to the hot water spraying from the shower head. The mirrors are clouded, and the air is thick. White tile is sticking to the bottom of my feet, and drops of moisture are beading on the walls. My skin is moist, and my hair is starting to curl. Edward's, too.

"I don't want him touching you anymore, Sail," Edward says firmly. "It …" he trails. "It kills me."

I stand straight, moving away from the sink. My hair is a frizzy mess, I'm tired, and I'm done. "Get out."

Turning away from this boy, I reach behind my back and untie my bikini. I slip my thumbs under the elastic of my bottoms as my top is falling to my feet. Before I have a chance to pull them down my legs, my feet slip in the condensation on the floor.

Edward catches me before I tumble.

And then we are kissing.

Bare chest pressed against bare chest, Smirks wraps his arms around my body, and I cling on to his sides. Our tongues touch as he lifts me up, setting me on the edge of the sink. I open my legs, giving him just enough room to fit between me. As his lips roam down my throat to my chest, I light up. Every inch of me tingles and burns as if lust literally boils under my skin. Anywhere he touches, anyplace he kisses, each spot his mouth presses, stings with need and stuns me breathless.

My cheeks are already red hot from all of the steam in the bathroom, but the more this boy touches me, the deeper the fervor becomes, spreading ruby red well beyond the bronzed skin of my face.

I tilt my head back, stretching my neck, closing my eyes, waiting for Edward to press his kiss on every single inch of skin I give him: under my jaw, near my ear, where my shoulder meets my throat.

It's like I've been possessed. As if I've never been touched before. This feels brand new. It's all I can do not to beg for it, cry for it, take it.

I whisper, "Edward, Edward, Edward."

If my dad comes home, he'll hear us. Any one of our friends could come into the house and they'd know, too. Maybe they're listening from outside. I don't care, because this is unreal.

Edward's lips are slowly returning to mine. He presses heavy kisses along my jaw, kissing softly at the corner of my mouth.

"Here?" he asks, just as breathless as I am.

I hate that he stopped kissing me long enough to ask. Finally opening my eyes, I don't bother answering. I sit up straight, taking his face in the palms of my hands. This time I kiss him, biting his bottom lip and pulling before attaching my mouth to the sharp angle of his jaw. My hands slide to his neck, his shoulders, down his arms. Edward has his hands on the rim of the counter beside my thighs. I place one of them where my bikini bottoms tie.

He knows what to do.

Baby Daddy undoes one side, and then the other. Then I'm bare.

I suck on Edward's throat. He hisses. Our heads turn at the same time, and our lips fuse again. It's a beautiful tangle of tongues, mouths, breaths, and a few smiles.

Making out with Edward is … sexy.

I don't know a damn thing about being racy or erotic, either. Sex is usually clumsy and fast and in the dark. But with Smirks, all of the lights are on, and I want him to see me. There isn't a place on my body I don't want him to touch. I'm gasping and reaching and pulling, and I feel a little bit delirious, and it's probably all really crazy, but it doesn't feel awkward at all.

Our kiss is bottomless. It's smooth and dirty and easy.

I slip my hand down Edward's shorts, circling my hand around his length. He stops kissing me, dazed. As I slowly start to move my hand, this boy moans against my mouth, and then he smirks.

It's really, really quick after that.

His shorts are off, and I'm being pulled to the very edge of the sink. We fumble a little trying to get him in. We laugh, and we smile, and we kiss. And then he's there, and he's pushing inside of me. Goose bumps cover my arms and legs, and the smallest gasp escapes my lips.

Smirks is great with his hips. He's strong, and he's sure, and he's so fucking hard.

The shower water must have gone cold because the steam has gone, but I don't feel any cooler. Neither does Edward. His skin is still sticky, and his hair is damp. I twist my fingers into Smirks' auburn strands at the nape of his neck. I moan against his shoulder. I look at his face and melt at his expression.

I've had orgasms before.

But nothing like this.

I felt it take shape the moment he kissed me, but now it's on the brink of igniting, and it might literally kill me.

My heart is beating out of control. I can't feel the tips of my fingers and toes. My lips tingle. I don't want to break Edward's skin, so I try not to scratch him too much, but there is nothing I can do about how hard I cling.

It's so close, if he just goes a little harder…

So I'm circling my hips, too. I hold on to his sides. I hold on to his bottom. I feel him clench every time he strokes forward.

"Holy shit," Edward whispers with a heavy tone.

And that does it.

I explode.

Orgasms in general are amazing. It's an instant worry eliminator. A pain reliever. A dose of who-gives-a-shit. There's no drug or drink or food that will make you feel more alive … more free. It's twenty seconds of natural ecstasy, and once you've had one, you'll do anything to experience it again.

Like having sex with your best friend on your birthday.

But coming while you're pregnant is a whole new level of incredible. Remington has given me a few good rides. I didn't come every time we had sex. It always felt good, but in the beginning, we were just learning. It was awkward, fast, and always in the dark.

This, though…

This is core-rocking, soul-shaking, bone-bending good. I can't moan loud enough. I can't hold him hard enough. My eyes won't open. My head's fallen back. My knees are wide open, hoping he can fill me just a little more.

Unaware of anything other than Edward and how good he's making me feel, he takes me up, up, up, and it seems like forever before I come plummeting down, down, down.

I'm like Jell-O when it's over, and my lips are still tingling. Smirks holds me up because I just want to tumble over. I'm gasping for breath, and he's smiling against the side of my face, kissing me once in a while.

"Never—" I'm trying to say. "What was that?"

Smirks laughs before saying, "Your piranha pussy is evil."




When I wake up the next day, it's well into the afternoon. It takes a moment for me to get myself together, blinking sleep away and stretching sore muscles. There's a tenderness between my legs that makes me smile. It has more to do with the awesome orgasm I had and not so much to do with the boy who gave it to me.

At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

I kick the blankets off, rub my hand over my rounding stomach, and sit up. My bedroom door is open, so Charlie must have tried to wake me up. I slept like the dead. Edward had to practically hold me up in the shower last night, and I remember nothing after he carried me to bed. I don't know if he stayed, or if he went home. I don't know when my friends left the beach, or where my dad was, because I remember he wasn't here.

As I make my way out of my room toward the bathroom, I hear my pops singing, "Guantanamera. Guajira Guantanamera," and I smell his vice in the air.

After peeing the longest pee ever, I check myself in the mirror, double and triple checking that my tummy isn't noticeable under my oversized tee. Charlie will need to be told about the baby soon, but today isn't that day.

I'm attempting to comb my hair when I hear the yelling. At first, I assume it's the TV since the music's stopped playing. Charlie isn't singing anymore, and CSI Miami reruns are his favorite. You can always count on my father to stop his day for anything David Caruso. Some girl must be getting murdered. I shrug, think nothing of it, and continue fighting the tangles I got during the night.

But then I hear the front door open and the shouting gets louder. Charlie's laughing at something.

I put down my comb and rush out to the living room, where the yelling—that's actually coming from the front yard and not the TV—is because a girl is being murdered, but only emotionally.

I'd recognize that shriek anywhere.

It's Dani, and evidently, she thinks I'm a slut.

Cautiously, I step onto the porch, and when she sees me, Edward's girlfriend picks up a rock from the sidewalk and chucks it at me.

She's wild-eyed and noticeably upset. Dani's in the same bikini she wore on the beach yesterday, which has me wondering where she slept last night, if she did at all. Her face is swollen from crying, and her feet are dirty, like she's been walking on them bare for a while. She's alone, accompanied only by her madness, and the dozen or so beach rocks that are always scattered in front of our house.

She picks up another and throws it. "You fucking skank!" she yells. "I hope you get fat!"

Charlie and I duck in order not to be hit.

"What's the matter, Dani?" My dad asks, half amused. Teenage antics are hilarious to a pothead like Charlie. "Tell your mom I'll be over there later to take down her Christmas lights, girl."

He winks suggestively.

I gasp. "Dad!"

I'm not as entertained as my life giver is, but I don't even begin to act stupid. Somehow, Dani knows I'm pregnant, and she's about to tell the entire block if I can't get her to leave.

Thankfully, Edward comes running out of his house just as Dani throws two more rocks. One hits the window, and the second hits me in the shin.

"Ouch!" I cry, bending over to reach for my leg.

"You were my friend!" Dani screams as Edward reaches her, blocking her view of me.

At the sight of him near her, I half want to pick up a few rocks of my own, but that would only make things worse. Now Smirks and his girl are having a full-out brawl in my front yard. She's punching him in the chest, and he's trying to hold her back. They're both unhappy, and that's sad to see, but I really need them to take this elsewhere before Charlie picks up on some information I don't need him to know. And preferably, I'd like it if Dani California left alone.

"Did you dip in her Kool-Aid, Sail?" Dad asks out of nowhere, laughing as Dani tries to smack Edward for the tenth time.

I act put off, even if I did in fact, dip in her "Kool-Aid."

"No," I answer defensively.

Dad must be too high to realize what's really going on, and for once, I am grateful for his dependency.

"Well," my dad announces, bored with the commotion. "I'm hungry." He turns and goes into the house.

I debate going inside with him, and right as I decide I should, I hear Edward say, "Get the fuck out of here, Dani."

The seriousness in his tone finally shuts her up. She stops trying to hit him, and she doesn't throw any more rocks. The girl who will never be my friend again wipes her face, stands straight, and looks at me before saying, "I'm going to kick your ass, Bella."

James was right. This girl is crazy.

It's unsettling watching her walk down the street, but I know it's only a few minutes before she gets home. There's no doubt the first person she'll call is Remington, and then all bets are off.

Our secret will be out.

"What happened, Edward?" I ask.

He's already walking my way, taking a seat on the top step of the porch.

"She showed up last night." He clears his throat. "Said she saw me go into your house and not leave."

I get mad. "You couldn't have made something up?"

He stands, giving me a dose of his own anger. "I had to tell her eventually, Sail."

My eyes water. I cross my arms over my chest. And even though I know the answer, I ask, "So now what?"

Dark grey eyes meet mine. "We have to tell our parents."