Hey, people. This is going to be kind of short. Maybe? Like 10 tiny chapters? I should probably know this. But I don't. All I do know is that I don't own Twilight.


It's the beginning of September. The air is crisp: orange, yellow, and red all around, from the leaves hiding the pavement, to the sunset painted across the sky.

I keep an eye out for a cab, picking up my pace as quickly as I can in the heels I'm wearing. If I weren't already running late, I'd have time to change out of my work clothes—pencil-straight black skirt and plain white blouse—before heading to my friend Angela's birthday party.

But I am late. I'm always late, and Angela is going to give me hell.

One expensive cab ride later and I'm stepping out of the elevator and onto Angela and Ben's floor. I can hear music drifting down the hall from their apartment.

Van Morrison.

I want to hug whoever's in charge of music tonight. Angela and Ben hardly ever steer from their usual party mix, which consists of Wilco, Coldplay, and Jack Johnson.

I don't bother knocking before walking in. A few people chatting near the door greet me. We've met before, so I smile, but I don't stay to join their conversation.

Making my way toward the master bedroom, I take off my coat and toss it on the pile of jackets and scarves lying on the bed.

"Look who decided to finally show up." I spin around to see Angela shaking her head. She's wearing the little black dress she picked out at Saks last week.

"That dress is stunning on you," I tell her, sending her a smile.

She's not taking the bait. "You're over an hour late to your best friend's birthday."

"I know. I got held up at the gallery. Please don't hate me?"

"Your punishment is that I didn't bother saving you any jalapeño peppers."

"That's a cruel punishment. Those are my favorite."

Her laugh is light as she eyes my clothes. "Do you want to change? You can go through my closet."

I shrug. "I'm okay."

"Yeah, but..." She pauses. "There's someone here I want you to meet."

I sigh. She's always trying to set me up. I'd tell her no, but I don't have it in me to fight. Especially since I know what she'll say, which will be something along the line of I need to move on.

Being in an on-again off-again relationship for the last four years can take a toll on a person. It fucks with your head. It makes you weak and vulnerable, and I know I should move on. I know this.

We were only twenty-two when we first met. Young. He broke my heart. I broke his, too. We were terrible together, but so good. I loved him hard, and hated him harder. We were push and pull, give and take.

Then one day he stopped giving and only started taking. Love is supposed to make you stronger, not suck the life out of you. So we broke up. Then we got back together. We went through that five times, each beginning more hopeful than the ending.

But things don't work out sometimes.

That's what he said to me this last time we broke up. And I haven't heard from him since. Five months and nothing. It's the longest we've gone without speaking.

There are people you get over, and then there's Edward Cullen.

"So?" Angela says. I realize I missed everything she said. "He's nice, Bella."

They're always nice.

But they're not Edward.

Thanks for reading, y'all y'all y'all.

Kim and Vic... you know.