I stared at my reflection as I brushed my teeth the next morning, mechanically rubbing the brush over my teeth and tongue as I tilted my head to the side.

It had to be a dream.  I mean, it was vivid and all, but it had to be a dream.  The doors had been locked, the windows shut, and, most importantly, I'd never heard my bedroom door open or shut.  I overreacted to a dream that felt entirely too real.  People just don't up and disappear.

The end.

I spit into the sink before sticking my toothbrush under the running water to wash it off.  I dropped it down on the counter next to me – toiletries such as our toothbrush holder and paper cups hadn't been unearthed quite yet – before leaning down and sucking water into my mouth.

I slapped the water off once I spit again into the sink and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.  Walking out of the bathroom, I made it downstairs and into the kitchen where my mother was humming and dancing around in front of the sink.  She was wearing her red and black skirt today with a white t-shirt, silver bangles on her wrists that clinked together as she moved, and I'm sure she had on one of those horrendously multi-chained necklaces that went down to her waist.  I didn't know how she functioned with something like that.

"Morning," I grumbled, propping myself against the doorway.

"Good morning, sweetheart!" she sang, looking at me over her shoulder and grinning.  "Your father told me to take you car shopping today."

I perked up just a little.

"Where is he?"

"He had to go into the hospital this morning for a little bit.  To get his office set up and everything squared away, you know."

Ah, so the workaholic had already reared his ugly head.  Didn't take him long.

"Right.  How are we getting there, Mom?"

We were down to one car.  My mother hated driving – only doing so when absolutely necessary – and insisted on not having a car of her own.  Between selling Victoria and only having my father's Mercedes – and since he was already at his new home – getting around for the day didn't seem as though it was going to be an easy feat.

"I dropped your father off this morning," she chirped, fluffing one of her plants before dancing over to the wide window facing the front yard.  Well, that solved that.  "The car is ours for the day.  Have to get new cell phones, too, of course."

I nodded, watching as she set the small plant on the windowsill that was already full of others that looked exactly the same.  At this point in my life, I should have known the names and purposes of every single freaking plant in the continental United States.  Unfortunately, the minute my mother started talking about all the uses and functions of her precious herbs and plants, I tended to tune her out.

"And I have to call the telephone company," she continued, fluttering her hands around her as she moved around to grab yet another plant from a seemingly never-ending box of them.  "There's just so much to do today."

"What time do you have to get Dad?"

"He said to stop in when we were finished.  I figured that we'd get all the small errands done and then we could see about your car, yeah?"

I sighed inwardly, really not relishing the idea of running errands with my mother like I was ten and she couldn't leave me at home by myself.

"We have to sign you up for school, too."

I groaned aloud and she laughed, her earrings made from recycled… something… tinkling as she shook her head at me.  I had a week before I really had to think about anything like that.  Did she really have to bring it up now?

"One more year, my love.  Then we can talk about college."

She stuck the plant under the faucet and turned the water on.

"I'm not doing the doctor thing," I grumbled.  She hummed absently at me and I narrowed my eyes at her back.  "I'm not!"

"Whatever you want to do is fine with me, sweetheart."

Yeah, with you.  Can you make Dad adopt that same thought process?

"Yeah."

"Go get dressed."  She used one hand and shooed me away.  "We've got a lot to get done today."

I nodded and sighed heavily, pushing myself off the wall and starting back towards the stairs.  I stood off to the side of my bedroom door, poking my head inside and making sure that I was the only one in there.

Dream or not, it had freaked me out.  It wasn't often that I ran to my parents' room because of something stupid; I was eighteen and more than capable of handling things on my own.

It had just seemed so damn real.

Satisfied that a brunette was not standing in the middle of my room, I walked in and got changed.  With my jeans on and a black button up shirt, I slipped my feet into my well-worn sneakers before grabbing my wallet and making my way downstairs.  My mother was standing in the middle of the kitchen, her eyes closed, her purse on her shoulder, her arms at her sides and her head thrown back.

Oh, for the love of…

"Mom!"

"Five seconds," she mumbled, not moving.

I closed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair, shaking my head and wondering where in the hell I'd even come from.

She called these her personal time outs.  When she wanted to get ready for the day or prepare herself for something, she stood stock still in the middle of a room – any room – and freaking meditated.  I was just glad that she didn't hum like I'd seen some of her other friends do while we were back home.

"Okay!" she chirped, grabbing the keys from the counter behind her and handing them to me.  "I'm ready!"

"Glad to hear it," I grumbled, turning on my heel and walking towards the door.

I made it out onto the porch and narrowed my eyes at the house across the street.  There was a bright red vintage Camaro in the driveway and to be perfectly honest, it made my mouth water a little bit.

Huh.  Maybe the spinsters had some relatives that still liked to visit them.  Maybe I could charm them out of their car…

We made our way to the Mercedes and I stopped halfway there when I saw the Camaro door open; my eyes focused on the long blonde hair and the trim waist that gracefully lifted itself from the front seat.  I licked my lips, watching as the goddess adjusted her shirt, bent down and grabbed her purse from the seat.

She had a very nice fucking ass.

I started walking again when my mother's humming made its way to my ears and I cleared my throat, keeping my eyes on the blonde as I walked over to the driver's side of the car.  The blonde turned, flipping her hair over her shoulder and met my gaze.  I slowly pulled the car door open, boldly meeting her eyes and watching as a slow smile graced her lips.  She wiggled the fingers on her free hand at me before sashaying her way up the walk and disappearing into the house.

Huh.  Maybe living on this street wouldn't be so bad after all.

~*~

Two hours later, I pulled into the driveway with my brand new Volvo, singing along to the radio and just generally starting to feel like myself again.

I wasn't going to think about the fifteen minutes where I'd been lost and turned around, heading in the wrong direction and forced to stop at a convenience store for directions.

Yeah, I stopped for directions.  That's how fucking lost I really was.  Pissed me off, too.

But now, I was back at the house with my new car and a new cell phone that would keep me busy for I don't know how long.  The phone company wouldn't be coming out until the next afternoon, so setting up my computer and getting online was out of the question until then.

I'd avoided having to talk to my father, much less see him, and I was more than happy with that.  The less I had to be in his presence when he was at work, the better.  The last thing I really needed was to have to listen to him lecture me about all the ways being a doctor would make me a better person.

I liked to think that I was a damn good person without aspiring to be a doctor.  He liked to remind me that I was the only Cullen son and should aspire to be the best I could be.  When I responded by asking him whether he wanted me to become a doctor or join the army, I usually got "the stare" and was ignored for the rest of the day.

Which, honestly, was completely fine with me.  At least he stopped bugging me about being a doctor and following in his footsteps for a few hours of the day.

I turned off the car and grabbed the keys, pushing open the door and stepping out.  I threw my keys up in the air, grinning as I caught them, and looked across the street.

The blonde was sitting in a lawn chair dressed in a pair of jean shorts and a pink tank top, with a magazine spread out on her lap.

Hell, it wasn't that warm.  Not that I was complaining…

"Are you gonna come over and talk to me or just ogle the goods?" she called out.

She didn't raise her head and I raised an eyebrow at her, impressed for reasons I wasn't one hundred percent sure of, then pocketed my keys and phone.

Well then…

I crossed the street, not bothering to look to see if anyone was coming, and stepped onto the lawn, walking over to her.  She looked up finally, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  She had bright blue eyes and extremely pouty, heart-shaped lips.  And from this vantage point, it was easy to see that she had a nice rack to go with the nice ass I'd seen earlier.

"I'm Rosalie Hale.  You're Edward Cullen."

"Stalking me already, are you?"

"Your father is the biggest thing to happen to this place since Little Miss Bella got herself killed."  She nodded towards the house and I barely managed to hide the shiver that ran down my spine.  "Everyone already knows who you are."

"What are you talking…?"

"Oh, it doesn't matter."  She waved me off and closed her magazine.  "When are you coming to get me?"

"Huh?"

The blonde – Rosalie – seemed a bit insane, further cementing my mental hospital theory.

"For a date.  I assume that's the reason you came over here."

This chick was beyond forward.  I wasn't sure what to do with it.

"I uh…"

"You'll want to be seen with me before school starts."  She licked her lips, bit her bottom lip, and looked me up and down.  "I want to be seen with you, too."

"Tomorrow night," I said quickly, nodding.  "I'll be here around seven."

"I'll be ready around seven-thirty."  She grabbed one side of her magazine and stood up, leaning forward and brushing her lips across my cheek.  "See you then, Ed."

I legitimately twitched as she turned on her heel and walked back towards the house.  There were very few things in the world that drove me up the wall.  Dreaming of very life-like brunettes standing in my bedroom and poking through my things was apparently one of them.  Another one was being called any version of Edward; Eddie, Ed… it all drove me fucking crazy.

At least she was hot.  I may be able to overlook the annoying name shortening.

I waited until she was inside the house before turning and making my way back across the street.  I shook my keys apart, damn near purring as I passed my car, and jogged up the front steps.  I stuck the key my mother had given me into the front door and walked in, whistling to myself as I stepped over the threshold.

Then I screamed and almost fell backwards onto the porch.  She was sitting there, on the same step she'd been sitting on when I first saw her, with a stupid little smirk on her face.  She was wearing a muted pink shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans with sneakers this time.

"You are not supposed to be real!" I exclaimed, pointing at her.  "I'm awake.  I know I'm awake."

"And I'm dead," she said easily, quirking an eyebrow at me.  "Did you have a point?"

I blinked at her.

"All right then."  She clapped her hands on her thighs and I watched as she stood up, bouncing down the stairs.  She wasn't transparent.  In fact, she seemed pretty fucking solid to me.  "You're apparently the only one that can see me.  Your parents are oblivious."

I opened my mouth and shut it again, still blinking rapidly at her.

"Alice says you're supposed to help me."

"I don't want to help you," I blurted out, shaking my head and slowly reaching out to close the front door.  "I don't want anything to do with this."

"That apparently wasn't your decision," she chirped, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  "You don't really have much of a say in the matter."

"I beg to differ."

"Beg all you want."  Then she grinned and my heart skipped a beat.  That wasn't right.  "You're stuck with me."

"I don't even know you!"

"I'm Bella.  You're Edward."

"You are the second person to introduce myself to me today," I grumbled, shaking my head and running a hand through my hair.  "Look, I don't know what you want.  I don't really care what you want, either.  I just want to get through this year without too much of a problem and you being dead and a ghost and… in my house… isn't gonna work for me.  So… go."

I made a shooing gesture with my hands and all she did was smirk at me, cross her arms over her chest and sit down on the bottom step of the stairs.

"Have I failed to mention that I can't leave?"

"What are you talking about?  Don't ghosts just… poof?"

"Can't," she said simply, shrugging her shoulders and leaning her elbows on the step behind her.

"Why?" I demanded, fisting my keys in my hand and glaring at her.

I watched her face darken, her eyes narrow, and everything about her seemed to radiate with something that seemed very close to anger.  I jumped when one of the light bulbs in the lamp next to me popped, little white shards of glass landing at my feet.  I looked down at the mess and then slowly up at her again, watching as she pursed her lips and closed her eyes.

"I just can't."

"Okay," I said slowly.

"Look."  She stood and I backed up, slamming back into the front door and silently cursing at myself.  "It's you and you can't change that.  You can see me and that makes all the difference.  Once you help me, I'll be out of your hair."

"I don't want to help.  Can't you just find someone else?"

I hated the way my voice shook.

"Nope.  Not an option.  It's you.  You're stuck.  The sooner you accept and deal with it, the sooner we can get on with it."

"I don't have to accept anything.  I have to be dreaming.  I have to be."  I kept my back pressed against the wall as I sidestepped my way into the kitchen and dropped my keys on the table.  I warily eyed the doorway, listening carefully for anymore breaking noises.  When I didn't hear anything else, I slowly made my way to the refrigerator and pulled the door open.  "This shit doesn't happen when you're awake.  People don't just talk to ghosts like they're having a normal conversation.  This shit doesn't happen in real life."

"No, it doesn't.  But it's happening, Edward."

I jumped, slamming the refrigerator door closed and quickly turning on my heel to see her standing in the archway, her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned on the doorjamb.

"I'm sorry about the light," she said quietly, ducking her head and shuffling her feet.  "I forget what happens when I start to lose my temper."

"I can't help you."

"You can."

"I don't want to."

"Again, you don't have a choice."

"How did I get chosen, then?  I want to speak to someone to fix this."

She looked up at me again, one of her eyebrows quirked as she snorted and shook her head.  She pushed herself off from the doorjamb and walked over to me.  I pressed my back against the refrigerator and held my breath as she came to a stop in front of me.

"Hold your hand up."

"Why?" I asked, clearing my throat when my voice shook again.

The woman – ghost – could make a fucking light bulb explode within mere feet of where I stood; I did not want her touching me.

"You want to know why you can see me, why you were chosen to help me.  This is the only way I know how to show you."

"I don't…"

"I won't hurt you."  She smiled softly, reassuringly, and I swallowed hard.  "I couldn't even if I tried."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, watching carefully as she raised her own hand in front of me.

"Why should I trust you?"

"I'm not going anywhere."  She shrugged and tilted her head to the side.  "You're stuck with me, remember?"

I looked down at her palm and shook my head, sliding away from her and walking back out of the kitchen.  I looked down at the shattered light bulb as I passed it on my way to the stairs and spared a glance over my shoulder.  She was standing in the doorway, her bottom lip caught in between her teeth and her eyes looking impossibly… sad.

"Rosalie's just using you, by the way," she stated.  "She and her boyfriend have been on and off for most of their lives.  They're off right now and she's aiming to make him jealous."

"You don't…"

"She was my best friend.  I know."

I turned towards the front door when I heard two car doors slam closed.

"Why would you tell me…?"

"Don't get emotionally invested with her.  It won't lead anywhere."

I panicked when I heard footsteps on the porch stairs.

"You need to go," I hissed, inching towards the stairs.  "They'll see you."

"No, they won't."

"You don't know that!"

"You're paranoid, you know that, right?"

"Would you just go?" I asked, exasperated.

The doorknob turned and my father pushed the door open, walking in and raising an eyebrow at me as my mother brushed in by him.

"You all right, son?" he asked slowly, closing the door and setting his briefcase next to the shattered glass.  "What the hell happened here?"

"Uhm… it just… exploded.  On its own," I mumbled, looking over in the direction of the kitchen.  She was leaning up against the doorjamb and my heart leapt up into my throat as my mother started to turn in that direction.  "I heard something pop from upstairs and I came down to find this."

"You're a horrible liar, Edward," Bella drawled.  "Like, top of the line horrible.  I don't even think they have a name for how horrible of a liar you are."

I ground my teeth together, shooting nervous, annoyed glances over in her direction and swallowing hard when my mother walked… through her.  My mouth dropped open and I stared at her back, listening as she hummed and slid across the floor of the kitchen.  For a woman who had claimed to see ghosts and help them cross over, she was sure as fuck oblivious to the one she just fucking walked through.

"Oh, well, that's odd," my father mumbled, shrugging.  "Esme, where did we put the broom and dustpan?"

"I have to go," I squeaked, staring at Bella's smug face.  "I need… uhm… I think maybe I'll unpack some more."

"You'll have to tell me all about the car," he said absently, waving me off as he started for the kitchen as well.

"Right.  Yeah.  Sure.  It's the same as the other one.  Okay."

"All right, sounds good.  Have a good time."

As I sprinted up the stairs, I vaguely heard a tinkling, "I told you so," follow me before I slammed my bedroom door shut and sat down heavily on my bed.

Tomorrow, I was going to find the library and I was going to find a way to get this chick – ghost – out of my damn house.