As they reached Bella's truck, Veer could see that her hands were still trembling slightly as she fumbled with the keys. The encounter with Edward had shaken her more deeply than she was willing to admit, and the occasional tear that escaped despite her efforts to compose herself made his protective instincts flare with increasing intensity.
"Here," he said gently, extending his hand. "Let me drive. You've had enough stress for one day."
"I can drive," Bella protested, though her voice lacked conviction.
"I know you can," Veer replied patiently. "But you're upset, and upset people sometimes miss stop signs or drive into ditches. Uncle Charlie would probably prefer we both arrived home in one piece."
Bella hesitated for a moment, then handed over the keys with visible relief. "Thanks. I just... I can't stop thinking about the way he looked at me. Like I was something toxic."
"Hey," Veer said as he helped her into the passenger seat, "whatever Edward Cullen's problem is, it's his problem. Not yours. You are not toxic, disgusting, or any other negative thing your brain is trying to convince you of right now."
As he settled behind the wheel and adjusted the seat to accommodate his height, Veer's phone buzzed insistently with what felt like the dozenth notification in the past ten minutes. He glanced at the screen briefly—messages from Jessamyn, Jacob, and what appeared to be a group chat that Eleanor had optimistically created—but immediately refocused on the more pressing concern of his cousin's emotional state.
"Okay," he said, starting the truck and trying not to wince as the engine made that assertive sound Jacob had mentioned. "Let's talk logistics. We need to get this shopping done efficiently so we can get home, cook something that doesn't come from a can, and pretend today was just a normal first day at a new school."
"Efficient grocery shopping," Bella repeated, wiping at her eyes with a tissue from the glove compartment. "Right. We can do that."
"We need basics," Veer continued, pulling out of the school parking lot while mentally cataloging necessities. "Actual food that can become actual meals. Vegetables that haven't been sitting in Charlie's crisper drawer since the Clinton administration. Meat that we can cook without risking food poisoning."
Bella managed a small laugh at that. "Charlie's culinary standards are pretty low, aren't they?"
"The man thinks beer is a food group and considers leftover pizza a breakfast staple," Veer replied with fond exasperation. "We're definitely starting from scratch."
His phone buzzed again, and this time Bella noticed.
"You can answer that," she said, though she was clearly trying to sound more generous than she felt. "I know you've got people trying to reach you."
"They can wait," Veer said firmly. "Right now, I'm more concerned with making sure you're okay and figuring out whether Forks has anything resembling decent coffee beans."
"Coffee beans?" Bella looked at him with curiosity that seemed genuinely surprised. "Since when do you care about coffee quality?"
"Since I realized that Uncle Charlie's definition of coffee is whatever comes out of that ancient machine on his kitchen counter," Veer replied, grateful for the distraction the topic provided. "I'm pretty sure he's been using the same grounds for weeks. Maybe months."
"That would explain why it tastes like motor oil," Bella said with growing amusement.
"Motor oil would be an improvement. At least motor oil serves a useful purpose." Veer turned onto what appeared to be Forks' main commercial street, scanning for anything that resembled a grocery store. "I'm thinking we need a proper coffee setup. Good beans, maybe a decent grinder, definitely a way to make coffee that doesn't taste like it was filtered through old socks."
"You know," Bella said, her voice carrying the first genuine lightness he'd heard since the office incident, "watching you get passionate about coffee quality is actually pretty entertaining."
"I have strong feelings about caffeine delivery systems," Veer replied solemnly. "It's one of my defining character traits."
As they drove through downtown Forks—such as it was—Bella pulled a folded map from the truck's dashboard, spreading it across her lap with the careful attention of someone grateful for a concrete task.
"Billy left this," she said, studying the hand-drawn annotations. "Looks like he marked all the essential places. Bank, post office, hardware store..." She paused, tracing one particular marking. "Grocery store. Newton's Olympic Outfitters?"
"Newton's what now?" Veer asked, though a sinking feeling was already forming in his stomach.
"Olympic Outfitters," Bella repeated, consulting the map more closely. "It's apparently a camping and outdoor gear store that also sells groceries. Which seems like an odd business model, but I guess small towns have their own logic."
"Newton," Veer repeated slowly, pieces clicking into place with horrible inevitability. "As in Mike Newton? From school?"
"Oh no," Bella said, her improved mood immediately deflating. "You think he works there? His family probably owns it, right?"
"That would be my guess," Veer confirmed grimly. "Which means we're about to walk into a store where we're guaranteed to encounter someone who's already demonstrated significant interest in making conversation."
His phone buzzed again, and this time Bella caught sight of the screen as he glanced down at it.
"Jessamyn?" she asked with raised eyebrows. "Already texting you after school?"
"She mentioned wanting to continue our biology conversation," Veer said, though he could feel heat rising in his cheeks. "Study group planning, probably."
"Study group planning," Bella repeated with the kind of tone that suggested she found his explanation charming but unconvincing. "Right. And the winky face emoji was just academic enthusiasm?"
"You could see the emoji from there?" Veer asked, impressed despite his embarrassment.
"I have good peripheral vision," Bella replied with the first genuine grin he'd seen from her all afternoon. "Also, you're not exactly subtle when you're flustered."
Before Veer could formulate a response to that observation, they pulled up in front of Newton's Olympic Outfitters—a building that looked like someone had taken a traditional sporting goods store and awkwardly grafted a grocery section onto one side. The parking lot was mostly empty, which suggested they might be able to get in and out without too much social complexity.
"Okay," Veer said, turning off the engine and mentally preparing for whatever fresh complications awaited them. "Game plan: we divide up the list, grab what we need as quickly as possible, and get out before anyone has time to start extended conversations about our first day at school."
"Sounds reasonable," Bella agreed, though her expression suggested she had limited faith in their ability to avoid social entanglements.
As they climbed out of the truck, Veer's phone buzzed once more. This time, he couldn't resist glancing at the message from Jessamyn: "Hope you're having a better afternoon than your cousin seemed to be having. Edward can be... intense... when he's not feeling well. If you need any local shopping recommendations, I know all the best places in town."
"She knows we're here," Bella observed, having clearly read the message over his shoulder.
"Small town," Veer replied, though he was beginning to understand that 'small town' didn't begin to cover the complexity of supernatural beings with enhanced senses tracking his movements. "Everyone probably knows where everyone else is at any given moment."
"Wonderful," Bella said with resignation. "Privacy is apparently another casualty of small-town living."
As they approached the store's entrance, Veer caught sight of a familiar blonde head through the windows and felt his stomach drop with the certainty that their simple grocery run was about to become significantly more complicated.
Mike Newton was indeed inside, apparently organizing inventory with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested he either genuinely loved retail work or was putting on a show for potential observers.
"There's still time to drive to the next town over," Veer suggested hopefully.
"And let Mike Newton dictate where we buy groceries?" Bella replied with surprising determination. "Absolutely not. We're going in there, we're buying food like normal people, and we're not letting awkward teenage social dynamics control our lives."
Veer looked at his cousin with new respect. "When did you become so decisive?"
"Apparently right around the time I decided I was tired of feeling sorry for myself," Bella replied, pushing open the store's entrance door with newfound resolve.
"In that case," Veer said, following her inside, "let's go buy some coffee beans and pretend we know what we're doing."
Behind them, his phone continued buzzing with notifications, but for the moment, he was more concerned with supporting Bella's return to emotional stability than with managing his increasingly complex supernatural social life.
After all, there would be plenty of time for vampire romance after they'd successfully navigated the minefield of small-town grocery shopping.
At least, he hoped there would be.
—
The interior of Newton's Olympic Outfitters was exactly as bizarre as its name suggested—half sporting goods store, with racks of hiking boots and camping equipment, and half grocery store, with aisles of canned goods and a surprisingly well-stocked produce section. The combination created a shopping experience that felt like someone had decided REI and Safeway should have a baby.
Mike Newton spotted them the moment they walked through the door, his face lighting up with the kind of enthusiasm that suggested their arrival was the highlight of his retail shift.
"Veer! Bella!" he called out, abandoning his inventory clipboard to approach with genuine pleasure. "I can't believe you guys made it here so fast. Most new students take weeks to figure out where to buy actual food."
"We're motivated by necessity," Veer replied diplomatically, noting the way Mike's attention immediately shifted toward Bella with poorly concealed interest.
"So this is your family's place?" Bella asked, glancing around with curiosity that seemed genuinely impressed rather than politely obligatory.
"Yeah, my dad started it about fifteen years ago," Mike explained with obvious pride. "The theory was that people come to the Olympic Peninsula for outdoor activities, but they also need to eat while they're here. So why not provide both services in one location?"
"That's actually pretty smart," Bella said, and Mike practically glowed at the compliment.
"Plus," Mike continued, clearly encouraged by her positive response, "we get a lot of locals who appreciate having quality camping gear and good food in the same place. Convenience factor, you know?"
Veer's phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it as he surveyed the store layout. Despite the unusual business model, the organization was actually quite logical—and more importantly, it looked like they'd be able to find everything they needed without multiple stops.
"Mike," he said, "I don't suppose you carry coffee equipment? Like, actual coffee-making gear rather than just instant?"
Mike's expression shifted to something approaching reverence. "Oh man, you're asking the right questions. Follow me."
He led them toward a corner of the store that had been set up like a miniature camping kitchen display, complete with portable stoves, cookware, and—to Veer's genuine delight—an impressive selection of coffee-related equipment.
"This," Mike said, picking up a elegant metal device that looked like it belonged in an Italian café, "is a moka pot. Originally designed for camping because it works on any heat source, but it makes better coffee than ninety percent of the electric machines out there."
Veer examined the device with growing appreciation. "This is perfect. How does it work?"
"Water in the bottom chamber, coffee grounds in the middle, and the steam pressure pushes the brewed coffee into the top," Mike explained with the expertise of someone who'd given this demonstration many times. "Takes about five minutes, makes coffee strong enough to wake the dead."
"Strong enough to wake Charlie Swan?" Bella asked with amusement.
"Strong enough to wake Charlie Swan's ancestors," Mike confirmed solemnly, which got a genuine laugh from both of them.
As Mike continued his coffee equipment demonstration, Veer felt his phone buzz again. This time, he discreetly checked the message while Mike explained the finer points of grind consistency.
Jessamyn: "How's the shopping expedition going, sugar? Hope you're finding everything you need."
Veer glanced around to make sure Mike and Bella were still engaged in coffee talk, then quickly typed back: "Better than expected. Mike Newton is surprisingly helpful when he's not trying to impress people."
The response came back almost instantly: "That boy's had a crush on half the girls in school at one point or another. How's Bella handling the attention?"
Veer looked over at his cousin, who was actually smiling as Mike explained different coffee brewing techniques with genuine enthusiasm. "Better than I expected. She seems to appreciate that he's being helpful rather than just flirtatious."
"Smart girl. Though I have to say, Edward's behavior this afternoon was inexcusable. Poor thing looked absolutely terrified."
Veer hesitated, then typed: "Yeah, Edweirdo really needs to work on his people skills."
"Edweirdo? 😂 I'm definitely stealing that nickname. Though to be fair, constipation can make anyone cranky."
Despite the absurdity of discussing Edward's fictional digestive issues, Veer found himself grinning at his phone.
"You okay over there?" Bella called out, having noticed his distraction.
"Just checking messages," Veer replied, quickly pocketing his phone. "Did we decide on the moka pot?"
"We decided on the moka pot, the coffee grinder, and enough Brazilian beans to keep Charlie caffeinated for the next month," Bella confirmed with satisfaction.
"Brazilian beans?" Veer asked, moving closer to examine Mike's coffee selection.
"Actually," Mike said with growing enthusiasm, "we just got in some really exotic stuff. Ethiopian single-origin, Jamaican Blue Mountain, and—" he reached for a bag with obvious pride "—this is Indian Monsooned Malabar. Supposed to have this incredible earthy flavor profile."
Veer felt a moment of unexpected emotion as he examined the coffee from his previous life's homeland. "I'll take a pound of that too."
As they moved through the store gathering the rest of their groceries, Veer was impressed by both the selection and Mike's genuine helpfulness. The produce section was surprisingly fresh, the frozen foods were well-organized, and Mike seemed to have encyclopedic knowledge of everything in the store.
"The frozen meat section is actually incredible," Mike was explaining as they approached the freezers. "We get deliveries twice a week from local suppliers, so everything's fresh-frozen."
Veer examined the selection with growing interest. High-quality lamb, chicken that looked properly handled, and even some specialty items that gave him ideas for more ambitious cooking projects.
"I'm thinking Indian tonight," he said to Bella, selecting lamb and chicken along with some vegetables he'd spotted in the produce section. "Proper curry, not the stuff that comes from a jar."
"You can actually make curry from scratch?" Bella asked with impressed curiosity.
"I've been experimenting with different cuisines," Veer replied, which was technically true if you counted the fact that his enhanced memories included considerable cooking knowledge. "Figured it was time to expand Charlie's culinary horizons."
Mike was following their conversation with obvious interest, though his attention kept drifting back to Bella with the persistence of someone working up courage for something.
"So, Bella," he said as they approached the checkout area, "I was wondering if you might want to—"
Veer's phone buzzed with what felt like the dozenth notification, and this time he couldn't resist checking it while Mike gathered his nerve.
Jessamyn: "Can I ask you something, darlin'?"
Veer: "Always."
Jessamyn: "Has anyone ever told you that you text like you're flirting on purpose? Because if so, it's working."
Heat flooded Veer's cheeks as he realized that his casual responses had apparently been coming across as intentionally seductive. Before he could formulate a response that wouldn't dig him deeper into flirtation territory, another message appeared.
Jessamyn: "Also, Eleanor and Edythe have been asking if they can have your number. Apparently you made quite an impression this afternoon."
Veer glanced around the store, noting that Mike was still working up to whatever he'd been planning to ask Bella, then quickly typed back: "You can give them my number. Though fair warning—my texting skills are apparently more advanced than I realized."
"Let me just say," he added after a moment's consideration, "has anyone ever told you that you look like Sydney Sweeney's significantly more attractive twin?"
The response came back so quickly that Jessamyn must have been staring at her phone: "Veer Dwyer, are you flirting with me over text message?"
"Maybe," he typed back, feeling bold. "Is it working?"
"Sugar, if you keep talking like that, I might have to find excuses to see you before tomorrow."
Before Veer could process the implications of that response, Mike's voice cut through his digital flirtation.
"...so maybe you'd want to go to the spring dance? It's not for a few weeks, but I thought maybe..."
Bella's expression had shifted to something between surprise and gentle panic, clearly not having expected the conversation to take this direction.
"Mike," she said carefully, "that's really sweet of you to ask, but I'm still getting settled here. Maybe we should see how the next few weeks go?"
It was a diplomatic deflection that managed to avoid outright rejection while not committing to anything, and Veer felt a surge of pride at his cousin's social navigation skills.
"Of course," Mike said, his disappointment obvious but handled gracefully. "No pressure. Just thought I'd ask."
As Mike rang up their purchases, Veer's phone buzzed one final time with a message from Jessamyn: "Just gave your number to the girls. Hope you're ready for some interesting conversations tonight. 😉"
"Everything okay?" Bella asked as they loaded their bags into the truck.
"Yeah," Veer replied, though he was beginning to understand that 'okay' might not adequately describe his current situation. "Just... making new friends."
"Friends," Bella repeated with knowing amusement. "Right. And I'm sure your new friends are purely interested in academic collaboration."
"Something like that," Veer said, starting the truck and trying not to think about what 'interesting conversations' might entail when conducted with three vampire sisters who were apparently cosmically destined to share him.
As they pulled out of Newton's parking lot, loaded down with good coffee, fresh ingredients, and the growing certainty that their lives in Forks were going to be anything but simple, Veer reflected that grocery shopping had turned out to be the least complicated part of his day.
Which, considering the supernatural soap opera unfolding around them, was probably saying something significant about their new reality.
His phone buzzed again, but this time he let it wait.
After all, some conversations were better had in private.
—
The checkout process at Newton's Olympic Outfitters went surprisingly smoothly, with Mike proving genuinely helpful in loading their bags efficiently and even offering tips about storing the coffee beans properly to maintain freshness. His disappointment over Bella's diplomatic dance invitation deflection was handled with more grace than Veer had expected from a teenage boy.
"You guys sure you don't need help getting this stuff home?" Mike asked as they loaded the final bags into the truck bed, his concern seeming genuine rather than calculated.
"We've got it handled," Bella assured him, "but thanks for all your help today. That moka pot demonstration was actually really educational."
"Anytime," Mike replied with a smile that managed to be both disappointed and genuinely friendly. "Hope Uncle Charlie appreciates the coffee upgrade."
As they settled into the truck, Bella automatically moved toward the driver's seat, but Veer hesitated.
"You sure you're feeling up to driving?" he asked with gentle concern. "The Edward situation earlier really shook you up."
"I'm fine," Bella said with more conviction than she'd shown all afternoon. "Actually, buying groceries and having normal conversations with Mike helped more than I expected. I feel like a functional human being again."
"In that case," Veer said, climbing into the passenger seat, "drive away. Though if that engine makes any sounds that suggest imminent mechanical failure, we're pulling over."
Bella started the truck, which responded with its characteristic assertive rumbling but nothing that suggested immediate danger. As they pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward home, Veer felt his phone buzz with what had become an increasingly familiar notification pattern.
"Jacob sent a photo," he announced, glancing at the screen. "Want to see the Jeep?"
"Definitely," Bella replied, her curiosity genuine despite her limited automotive knowledge.
Veer opened the message to find a picture of a forest-green CJ-7 that looked exactly like what he'd hoped for—clearly a project vehicle, but with good bones and character. The body showed some rust spots but no major damage, the tires looked decent, and the interior visible through the open doors appeared worn but salvageable.
"Here," he said, angling the phone so Bella could see the screen while keeping her attention primarily on the road.
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool," she said with appropriate enthusiasm. "It looks like something out of an adventure movie. Like it should be driving through jungles or climbing mountains."
"That's exactly the kind of versatility I was hoping for," Veer agreed, studying the photo more closely. "Something that can handle Forks weather and roads, but also take me places the regular cars can't go."
"Plus it'll give you and Jacob something to bond over," Bella observed with the insight of someone who'd watched him navigate social dynamics for years. "Having a project together."
Before Veer could respond, his phone buzzed again—this time with a message from Jessamyn that made him grin despite his efforts to remain composed.
Jessamyn: "So I may have done something that will either thrill you or terrify you, depending on your tolerance for complicated social situations."
Veer: "Given the day I've had, my tolerance is surprisingly high. What did you do?"
Almost immediately, his phone buzzed with a notification that he'd been added to a group chat. The participant list made his pulse quicken: "Jessamyn," "Eleanor," and "Edythe."
Eleanor: "Well hello there, handsome! Finally got your number from our matchmaking sister."
Edythe: "Eleanor, please try to maintain some dignity. We've only just met him properly."
Eleanor: "Dignity is overrated. Life's too short not to appreciate beautiful people when they cross your path."
Jessamyn: "Ignore Eleanor, sugar. She's been bouncing off the walls since this afternoon."
Veer found himself caught between amusement and the growing realization that his evening was about to become significantly more complicated than cooking dinner and helping Bella process her first day.
"Everything okay over there?" Bella asked, noticing his expression. "You look like someone just told you something either really good or really concerning."
"Jessamyn added me to a group chat with her sisters," Veer admitted, which was technically true while being completely inadequate to describe the supernatural complexity of the situation.
"All three of them are texting you?" Bella's eyebrows rose with impressed amusement. "Veer, I hate to break this to you, but I think you might have accidentally become the most popular boy at Forks High."
Eleanor: "So what did you think of your first day at our little school? Apart from the Edweirdo incident, obviously."
Veer couldn't help but grin at seeing his Edward nickname adopted so quickly. He typed back: "More interesting than I expected. Though I have to admit, the biology lab was definitely the highlight."
Jessamyn: "Oh really? And what made it so special, darlin'?"
Edythe: "I believe he's referring to the quality of the academic discourse, Jessamyn. Mr. Banner does run an excellent program."
Eleanor: "Sure he is. And I'm interested in his cellular respiration knowledge. 😉"
Veer felt heat rise in his cheeks as he realized he was being collectively flirted with by three supernaturally beautiful sisters through text message while sitting next to his cousin in a truck that smelled faintly of motor oil and pine trees.
"Your phone is buzzing constantly," Bella observed with growing entertainment. "Should I be worried that you're going to be too distracted to cook dinner?"
"I can multitask," Veer protested, though he was beginning to doubt that claim as another round of messages appeared.
Jessamyn: "So tell us, sugar, what are your plans for tonight? Besides making Uncle Charlie appreciate proper coffee, obviously."
Veer: "Actually planning to cook Indian food. Figured it was time to expand Charlie's culinary horizons beyond beer and takeout."
Eleanor: "A man who cooks? Be still my heart."
Edythe: "Cooking is an admirable skill. Very... domestic."
Jessamyn: "I'd love to hear how it turns out. Maybe you could send pictures? For... educational purposes."
"They want pictures of dinner?" Bella asked, having caught a glimpse of the last message.
"Apparently cooking is impressive to them," Veer replied, though he suspected that 'impressive' didn't begin to cover whatever dynamic was developing in the group chat.
Eleanor: "So we were thinking... maybe we could continue getting to know each other tomorrow? All of us together?"
Edythe: "Eleanor means we'd like to invite you and Bella to join us for lunch. Our table has plenty of room."
Jessamyn: "And after school, if you're interested, we could show you some of the prettier spots around Forks. Places that don't involve shopping for camping equipment."
Veer stared at his phone, processing the implications of what appeared to be a formal invitation to integrate into the Cullen social circle. On one hand, it was exactly what someone in his position should want—acceptance by the most exclusive group at school. On the other hand, he was increasingly certain that 'exclusive' didn't begin to describe what he was walking into.
"They want to have lunch with us tomorrow," he told Bella. "All of them together."
"Really?" Bella's surprise was genuine. "That's... unexpected. The Cullens don't usually socialize outside their family group."
"Maybe they're expanding their social circle," Veer suggested, which was technically accurate while completely understating the cosmic forces apparently at work.
Eleanor: "Also, fair warning—we may have accidentally intimidated Lauren Mallory earlier. She seemed to have some misconceptions about territorial boundaries."
Edythe: "What Eleanor means is we had a polite conversation about the importance of respecting other people's choices."
Jessamyn: "Very polite. Very educational. She won't be bothering you anymore, sugar."
Veer felt a moment of genuine alarm at the implications of that exchange. Whatever the Cullen sisters had done to Lauren, it had apparently been effective enough to warrant warnings about territorial behavior.
"What's wrong?" Bella asked, noticing his changed expression.
"I think the Cullen sisters may have had words with Lauren Mallory," Veer said carefully.
"About what?" Bella asked, though her tone suggested she was beginning to guess.
"About her... enthusiasm... regarding new students."
Bella was quiet for a moment, processing this information. "Should I be concerned about teenage drama following us home?"
"Probably not," Veer replied, though he was beginning to realize that 'probably not' was becoming his standard response to increasingly unlikely scenarios.
His phone buzzed with one final message that made his stomach flip with anticipation and concern in equal measure.
Jessamyn: "Sweet dreams tonight, darlin'. Tomorrow's going to be very interesting."
As they pulled into the Swan driveway, loaded down with groceries and the growing certainty that their lives in Forks were about to become infinitely more complicated than either of them had anticipated, Veer reflected that his first day at a new school had exceeded his wildest expectations.
Though 'exceeded' might not adequately describe a situation involving vampire romance, divine powers, and group chat flirtation with supernatural beings who apparently came with cosmic approval.
"Ready to pretend we're normal teenagers making dinner?" Bella asked as they began unloading groceries.
"As ready as I'll ever be," Veer replied, though he suspected that 'normal' had officially left their vocabulary permanently.
Behind them, his phone continued buzzing with notifications that promised an evening far more interesting than curry and coffee preparation.
But one crisis at a time. First, feed Charlie and help Bella feel settled.
Then figure out how to navigate a romantic destiny that apparently came with its own group chat.
—
Meanwhile, at the Cullen house, the family had gathered in the main living room with an energy that suggested significant news was about to be shared. Alice sat perched on the edge of the antique sofa, her eyes carrying that unfocused quality that meant she was processing multiple timeline threads simultaneously.
"Well?" Emmett asked with characteristic impatience, his massive frame draped across an armchair that looked delicate beneath his bulk. "What's our brooding prince up to now?"
"He's at the hospital," Alice announced, her voice carrying a mixture of amusement and exasperation. "Switching cars with Carlisle and having what can only be described as a spectacular emotional breakdown."
Rosalie looked up from her magazine with sharp interest. "What kind of breakdown? The dramatic 'woe is me' variety, or actual crisis management?"
"Both," Alice replied with growing entertainment. "He's convinced that staying in Forks will result in him murdering Bella Swan in her sleep, so he's planning to disappear for a while. Probably Alaska. Maybe South America. Somewhere appropriately remote and brooding."
Jasper's tactical mind immediately engaged. "How long is 'a while'?"
"Hard to say exactly," Alice admitted. "The timelines keep shifting depending on his emotional state. Could be weeks, could be months. The visions get fuzzy when he's this unstable."
Eleanor bounced to her feet with obvious delight. "So Edweirdo is running away from his problems instead of dealing with them like an adult? How perfectly characteristic."
"Edweirdo?" Esme asked from her position by the window, though her tone suggested mild amusement rather than reproof.
"Veer's nickname for him," Eleanor explained with satisfaction. "Though after today's performance, I think it's completely earned. Who tries to flee the state because of one biology lab partner?"
"A vampire who just discovered his personal brand of heroin comes in human form," Emmett pointed out with dark humor. "Though I have to admit, the timing is pretty terrible. Right when we're trying to integrate into normal high school social dynamics."
Edythe, who had been silent through this exchange, finally spoke up with her characteristic refinement. "Perhaps it's for the best. Edward's control issues might have complicated our... social development... with certain new students."
"You mean they would have complicated your courtship of the divine golden boy," Eleanor translated with cheerful bluntness.
"Eleanor," Jessamyn's drawl carried warning, though her eyes were sparkling with amusement. "Some things don't need to be said quite so directly."
"Why not?" Eleanor shot back. "We're all thinking it. Edward's terrible timing means we get to pursue our cosmic destiny without him glowering disapprovingly in corners and reading everyone's thoughts."
Alice's expression shifted as new visions cascaded through her awareness. "He's taking the Lexus and leaving Carlisle the Volvo. Very dramatic, very symbolic. Though I have to say, his internal monologue is becoming increasingly purple prose."
"Purple prose?" Jasper asked with tactical curiosity.
"Think Gothic romance novel meets philosophical treatise on the nature of temptation," Alice explained. "Lots of references to damnation, eternal suffering, and the cruel irony of fate. It would be impressive if it weren't so completely over the top."
Emmett's laughter boomed through the room. "Oh man, I wish I could read minds right now. Is he actually comparing himself to tortured literary heroes?"
"Multiple literary heroes," Alice confirmed with growing delight. "Byron's heroes, Gothic villains, tragic protagonists from Russian novels. He's really committing to the dramatic interpretation of his situation."
"While his supposed mate is at home making grocery lists and learning to use a moka pot," Rosalie observed with perfect deadpan delivery. "The contrast is... striking."
Esme moved away from the window, settling gracefully into her favorite chair. "Should we be concerned about him? Genuinely concerned, I mean?"
"He'll be fine," Alice assured her with confidence. "This is more about his need for dramatic gesture than actual danger. He'll brood in exotic locations, write terrible poetry, and eventually realize that running away doesn't solve supernatural bonding issues."
"How long until he reaches that realization?" Carlisle asked, appearing in the doorway with car keys in hand and an expression of fond exasperation.
"Hard to say," Alice replied. "Though I suspect it'll coincide with Bella doing something that makes him realize he's being ridiculous. The timelines suggest significant personal growth for both of them, but it's going to take a while."
"And in the meantime," Eleanor said with obvious satisfaction, "we get to focus on our own romantic developments without Edweirdo narrating our every thought to the dinner table."
"Edweirdo really is a perfect nickname," Emmett mused. "Captures both the dramatic tendencies and the social awkwardness."
"I vote we make it official," Eleanor declared. "All in favor of permanently adopting 'Edweirdo' as Edward's family designation?"
The vote was unanimous, though Esme's approval came with the gentle caveat that they should probably avoid using it when he was actually present.
"Fair enough," Eleanor agreed. "We'll save it for behind-his-back family discussions about his latest emotional crisis."
As the family dispersed to their various evening activities, each member felt a distinct sense of relief. Edward's temporary absence would simplify their social dynamics considerably, leaving them free to pursue their own supernatural relationships without the complication of a telepathic brother having public breakdowns over biology lab partnerships.
And somewhere on the highway leading out of Forks, Edward Cullen drove toward what he hoped would be redemption, completely unaware that his family had just christened him with a nickname that perfectly captured his approach to emotional crisis management.
The evening was definitely off to an interesting start.
---
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