The Charger took a hard right off the main road onto what might charitably be called "evidence that cars were a mistake." Bella's truck followed with all the grace of a three-legged elephant attempting ballet.
"Okay, real question," Veer said, white-knuckling the steering wheel as they bounced over what used to be a pothole but had clearly evolved into a geological feature with its own ecosystem. "Where exactly are we going? Because this feels less 'scenic tour' and more 'shallow grave situation.'"
"Hot springs!" Eleanor announced from the passenger seat with the enthusiasm of someone who'd just discovered fire. "Natural! Secret! Ours!"
"When you say 'yours'—"
"Spiritually ours. Emotionally ours. We claimed them through the ancient rites of repeated trespassing and good vibes."
Veer glanced at Edythe in the rearview mirror. "That's not a thing."
"It's absolutely a thing," Edythe said with the confidence of someone who'd argued their way out of multiple parking tickets. "We've established precedent. Very legal. Extremely binding. Don't look into it."
"The 'don't look into it' part is doing a lot of heavy lifting there."
"That's what makes it work."
The path—and calling it a path was being generous; calling it a "series of aggressive suggestions about where vehicles shouldn't go" was more accurate—opened into a clearing that looked like Bob Ross had gotten really high and decided to paint heaven.
Steam rose from crystal-clear pools in lazy spirals, catching the afternoon light like some kind of artisanal Instagram filter had manifested in physical form. Ancient rocks surrounded the springs in formations that suggested either millions of years of geological patience or a really dedicated landscaper with too much time.
Veer killed the engine. "Okay. I take back every bad thing I've ever said about Washington state. This is—wow."
"Right?!" Eleanor was already launching herself out of the truck before it fully stopped, which was dangerous but also extremely on-brand. "This is where we come when we need to pretend we're human and do human things like 'experience warmth' and 'understand why people enjoy being alive!'"
Bella emerged from the Charger looking like she'd survived a ride on a fighter jet. Her dark hair had achieved a level of windswept chaos that suggested aerodynamic testing. "Your sister drives like physics is just a polite suggestion she chooses to ignore."
Jessamyn locked the Charger with a satisfied chirp, her honey-blonde hair somehow still perfect despite traveling at speeds that should've required FAA clearance. "I prefer to think of it as 'having a passionate relationship with acceleration.' Sounds more romantic, don't you think, sugar?"
"You hit ninety in a forty-five."
"That's just numbers, darlin'. Can't let numbers run your life. That's how you end up boring." She stretched, her drawl warming every word like honey dissolving in sweet tea. "Besides, the car wants to go fast. Who am I to deny her natural instincts?"
"That's not how cars work!"
"It's exactly how they work if you listen to them." Jessamyn tapped the Charger's hood affectionately. "This beautiful girl has needs. Speed is one of them. I'm just being a good owner."
"That's still not—you know what, never mind."
The hot springs were arranged in natural tiers—like nature had decided to design a luxury spa but forgot to charge admission. Each pool varied slightly in temperature and depth, connected by miniature waterfalls that provided the kind of ambient sound people paid good money for on meditation apps.
Eleanor was already toeing off her shoes. "Alright, who's getting in? And by 'who,' I mean 'everyone,' and by 'getting in,' I mean 'immediately.'"
Bella froze mid-step. "Wait. Getting in? As in... the water? The water that's currently occupied by us having all our clothes?"
"That's generally how hot springs work, yeah. Unless you want to just stand here looking at them, which seems like a waste of a perfect afternoon."
"I didn't bring a swimsuit."
"Neither did we!" Eleanor gestured at herself like this was obvious. "That's what underwear is for. Or just regular clothes if you're shy. Or nothing if you're European. Options!"
Bella's face cycled through more emotions than a film reel. "I'm not—that's not—we're not doing that."
"Underwear it is!" Eleanor was already pulling her shirt over her head with zero hesitation, revealing a sports bra that probably cost more than Bella's truck. "Last one in has to explain to Charlie why we're late!"
"It's FOUR-THIRTY."
"TIME IS MEANINGLESS. LAST ONE IN GETS CONSEQUENCES."
Edythe approached the springs with more grace, folding her jacket with precise movements. "You don't have to get in if you're uncomfortable, Bella. We can just sit and enjoy the scenery. These springs are gorgeous even from the edge."
"But getting in is WAY more fun!" Eleanor was already waist-deep in the nearest pool, looking like a very attractive otter who'd discovered thermal heating. "Come on! The water is PERFECT! Like being hugged by God! A warm, wet, non-denominational hug!"
"Eleanor, I'm begging you to stop saying 'wet hug,'" Veer said.
"MOIST HUG. DAMP EMBRACE. HUMID CUDDLE. I can do this all day."
"That's what concerns me."
Jessamyn was watching Veer with obvious amusement, one eyebrow arched in challenge, her golden eyes catching the light. "What's wrong, sugar? Scared of a little water? Or are you scared of something else?" The slight upturn of her lips suggested she knew exactly what that 'something else' was.
"I'm not scared. I'm... cautiously assessing the social implications of group hot spring activities with three women I've known for approximately 48 hours."
"That's a lot of words for 'scared.'" She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, still smiling. "We've seen shirtless boys before, honey. You're not breaking new ground here."
"That's somehow less reassuring than you think it is!"
Bella had moved to the edge of one of the pools, dipping her fingers in experimentally. "Okay, I'll admit, this is actually really nice. Like... really, really nice."
"See?" Eleanor was floating on her back now, looking completely at peace. "Everything worth doing is at least 15% awkward! That's how you know you're growing as a person!"
"That's not science!"
"It's Eleanor-science! Now recognized in forty-eight states!"
"Which two don't recognize it?"
"Delaware and Wyoming. They know what they did."
Veer looked at Bella. Bella looked at Veer. They engaged in one of those silent cousin conversations that required no words—just eyebrows, slight head tilts, and the shared language of "I can't believe this is happening but also that water looks amazing."
"Alright, fine," Veer said, pulling his shirt off with significantly less confidence than Eleanor had demonstrated. "But if this turns into one of those situations where we all look back and cringe, I'm blaming literally everyone else."
"Things are already weird," Eleanor said reasonably. "Three sisters interested in one guy? Weird is our starting position. We can only go sideways from here."
"That's not how directions work."
"It is in my world. My world has additional dimensions. Very progressive. Very forward-thinking."
The water was, Veer discovered as he eased himself in, absolutely perfect. Hot enough to feel like an actual experience but not so hot you felt like you were being slowly cooked.
"Okay," he admitted, settling onto a submerged rock. "I see why you like this place."
"VINDICATION!" Eleanor shrieked at the sky. "I WAS RIGHT! NATURE IS SUPERIOR! SUCK IT, CIVILIZATION!"
"You don't need to yell."
"I ABSOLUTELY NEED TO YELL! YELLING IS MY PRIMARY FORM OF EMOTIONAL EXPRESSION!"
Bella had entered the water fully clothed, which was a choice but honestly seemed pragmatic given the circumstances. She found a spot and immediately achieved what could only be described as "profound relaxation." Her entire body language shifted from "anxious New Girl" to "person discovering why spas exist."
"Oh my god," she breathed. "Charlie mentioned these springs once but said they were 'too dangerous for teenagers.'"
"They are dangerous," Jessamyn confirmed from where she'd settled in, the water lapping at her shoulders. Her drawl was extra pronounced in the relaxed atmosphere. "But that's part of their charm, sugar. Safe hot springs are for tourists. These have character."
"Character is just another word for 'liability lawsuit waiting to happen.'"
"You say liability, I say adventure. Potato, po-tah-to."
"That's not how that expression works in this context!"
Edythe had joined them with her characteristic grace, settling into a deeper section with perfect posture. "This is actually an excellent environment for difficult conversations. The water makes everything feel less formal. More intimate. Plus, it's harder to storm off when you're wet."
"That's entrapment."
"We prefer 'strategic conversation architecture.'"
"That's DEFINITELY entrapment."
"It's only entrapment if you didn't want to have the conversation in the first place." Edythe tilted her head, copper hair catching the light. "Did you not want to have a conversation?"
"I—that's not—you're twisting my words!"
"I'm clarifying your position."
"By twisting my words!"
"Semantics."
Eleanor had drifted closer to Veer, close enough that he could feel the water displacement. Her usual manic energy was still present but softer, more vulnerable. "Can I ask you something serious?"
"Should I be worried?"
"Medium worried. Like, 'might require actual thought' worried, not 'call your lawyer' worried."
"That's a very specific scale."
"I've had a lot of therapy." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice had lost its performance quality. "Do you actually want this? Not like, 'are you being polite to three girls who are attracted to you.' But actually, genuinely want to try... whatever this weird thing is we're doing."
The vulnerability in her voice made something in Veer's chest constrict. This wasn't Eleanor the Chaos Agent. This was Eleanor the Person, worried about rejection.
"Because we can be a lot," she continued quietly. "I know I'm a lot. Edythe's intimidating as hell and Jessamyn's intensity is like... a lot of intensity, and I'm—"
"Exhausting?" Veer supplied gently.
"I was gonna say 'passionately enthusiastic about life' but yeah, exhausting works."
"You're not exhausting." He meant it. "You're... enthusiastic. There's a difference. Exhausting means I want you to stop. I don't want you to stop. I just need to occasionally catch my breath."
Eleanor was very quiet for a moment. "That's—okay, that's actually really sweet. I'm having emotions about it. They're happening in my chest. It's deeply uncomfortable. I don't like it. Make it stop."
"Emotions are good!"
"Emotions are TERRIBLE. They make you FEEL THINGS. Feeling things is the WORST."
Bella laughed from her corner, where she'd achieved nirvana. "You literally just demanded honesty and communication and now you're mad about having feelings?"
"Having them is fine! Acknowledging them out loud is terrible! Some feelings are meant to be private! That's why we have inside voices!"
"That's the opposite of the guidelines you created!"
"The guidelines are flawed! I'm proposing amendments! Parliamentary procedure! Robert's Rules of Emotional Order!"
"That's not a thing!"
"It is NOW. I'm publishing it. It'll be in the self-help section between 'Eat Pray Love' and 'Rich Dad Poor Dad.'"
Veer found himself laughing—the kind of genuine, uncontrolled laughter that made his abs hurt. "You're ridiculous."
"Thank you. I work very hard at it."
"That wasn't a compliment!"
"Everything's a compliment if you're confident enough. That's lesson one in my book. Chapter one: Confidence Overrides Reality."
"For what it's worth," Veer said when he'd caught his breath, "I do want this. It's terrifying and weird and definitely not what I expected when I moved to Forks. But I like you guys. All of you. The spreadsheets, the chaos, the constant yelling. All of it."
"Even the part where we're sisters?" Edythe asked carefully.
"Especially that part. Because it means you've already figured out how to not kill each other, which gives me hope for the future."
"We worked hard on that," Edythe said with obvious pride. "Hired lawyers. Signed documents. The works."
"How many lawyers?"
"Three. One per sister. It was very official."
"That's either very thorough or deeply concerning."
"Why not both?"
Jessamyn had floated over to Veer's other side, creating a formation that felt both comforting and slightly overwhelming. "There's one more thing we should probably mention, sugar." Her drawl softened the words, but her tone was serious. "About the 'getting to know us' situation."
"Why do I feel like this is where you tell me you're all in witness protection?"
"Not quite that simple, darlin'." She tucked wet hair behind her ear. "We have some... unusual family circumstances. Things that might seem strange from an outside perspective."
"Are you in a cult?"
"We've been over this," Edythe said patiently. "No matching robes equals not a cult. Basic cult identification."
"Secret royal family?"
"I wish. The outfits would be better." Jessamyn's expression turned thoughtful. "Point is, sugar, our family's complicated. And if you're gonna be part of this—part of us—you'll need to be okay with complicated."
"I'm being courted by three sisters simultaneously. Complicated is my baseline now."
"Smart boy," Jessamyn said with obvious approval. "Knew there was a reason we liked you."
"Just the one reason?"
"Multiple reasons. We have a ranked list. It's color-coded."
"Of course it is."
Bella had been quiet during this exchange, but now she spoke up. "You guys know he's gonna figure it out eventually, right? The mysterious family thing? Veer's observant. He notices stuff."
"We know," all three sisters said in unison, which was creepy but also kind of impressive.
"We're counting on it," Jessamyn added. "Eventually. When the timing's right. When the spreadsheet says so."
"There's a spreadsheet for that?"
"Sugar, there's a spreadsheet for everything. Spreadsheets all the way down."
They floated in comfortable silence for a while, the hot springs working their therapeutic magic. The light was shifting, afternoon sliding toward evening, painting everything in gold and amber.
"This was good," Veer said eventually. "The tour. The awkward conversations. All of it."
"We try," Eleanor said. "Awkward honesty is our specialty. We could teach classes."
"Please don't."
"TOO LATE. Already designing the curriculum. First lesson: How to Be Vulnerable While Making Jokes. Second lesson: Advanced Vulnerability with Weaponized Humor."
"That sounds exhausting."
"That's because it IS. Welcome to my LIFE."
As they reluctantly began leaving the springs—wet, wrinkled, and significantly more relaxed—Eleanor wrapped herself in a towel and looked at Veer with unusual seriousness.
"Hey. Thanks for not running away screaming."
"You're welcome."
"Also, Jessamyn's already made a spreadsheet of your clothing sizes for birthday presents even though your birthday isn't for six months."
"ELEANOR!" Jessamyn's voice carried from the Charger, which shouldn't have been possible at that distance. "That was PRIVATE INFORMATION!"
"NOTHING'S PRIVATE! TRANSPARENCY IS IN THE GUIDELINES!"
"THE GUIDELINES DON'T COVER BIRTHDAY PRESENTS!"
"THEY COVER EVERYTHING! ESPECIALLY PRESENTS!"
"I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU!"
"CAN'T! NON-AGGRESSION PACT! IT'S NOTARIZED!"
"I'LL FIND A LOOPHOLE!"
"THERE ARE NO LOOPHOLES! THE LAWYERS WERE VERY THOROUGH!"
Bella was laughing so hard she had to sit down. Edythe had her face in her hands. And Veer realized—somewhere between the chaos and the caring, the spreadsheets and the sincerity—that he was completely, utterly screwed.
But in a good way.
Definitely in a good way.
Probably.
He'd figure it out.
Eventually.
---
The evening sun had begun its descent toward the Olympic Mountains, painting the sky in shades of amber and rose that would've been romantic if Veer's brain wasn't currently short-circuiting from the realization that he was about to navigate what could only be described as "the goodbye situation."
They'd made it back to the main clearing where both vehicles sat waiting. Bella's truck looked stoic and judgmental, like it had opinions about the afternoon's events and planned to share them loudly during the drive home. The Charger gleamed in the fading light, probably judging them too but with more horsepower.
"Well," Veer said with forced casualness, checking his phone for the time and discovering it was somehow already 6:47 PM, which meant Charlie would be home in thirteen minutes and probably wondering where his nephew and niece had disappeared to. "We should probably head back before Charlie sends out a search party. Or worse, starts cooking."
"God forbid," Bella muttered. "Last time he cooked unsupervised, the smoke alarm filed for emotional damages."
"It was ONE TIME," came a text from Charlie, which was impossible because Charlie wasn't in this conversation and also didn't have psychic powers. Bella's phone had just buzzed with his actual message: "You kids okay? Dinner soon?"
"See?" Bella showed Veer the screen. "He's already worried. We're creating anxiety. We're bad children. Terrible nephews and daughters."
"We're GREAT children," Eleanor protested from where she was attempting to fix her hair using the Charger's side mirror as reference. "We're the BEST children. We took them on an ADVENTURE. That's ENRICHMENT. We're basically educational content."
"You're an uncontrolled substance," Edythe corrected, but there was fondness in her voice. She'd already achieved perfect post-hot-spring appearance through what had to be either supernatural grooming skills or a pocket dimension full of styling products. "But accurate about the enrichment."
Jessamyn was leaning against the Charger in a pose that should've been illegal in several states, her damp hair catching the golden light like some kind of shampoo commercial directed by someone who understood that physics was negotiable. "So, sugar, how're you getting home? Because I can give you a ride if you want..."
The way she said "ride" made it clear she wasn't just talking about transportation.
"Oh no," Bella said immediately, her social anxiety radar pinging like a submarine's sonar in hostile waters. "No no no. We came together, we're leaving together. Cousin code. Very important. Absolutely binding. Can't be violated without paperwork."
"Paperwork?" Veer asked.
"Metaphorical paperwork. Spiritual paperwork. The paperwork of family bonds."
"That's not how paperwork works!"
"It's exactly how the important paperwork works!"
Eleanor had abandoned her mirror consultation and was now looking at Veer with the kind of focused attention that preceded either really good ideas or felonies. "Okay but before you go, we should probably address the elephant in the clearing."
"Is this another metaphor?" Bella asked wearily.
"It's ALWAYS a metaphor. Life is metaphors. Metaphors all the way down. But this specific metaphor is about goodbye rituals."
"Goodbye rituals?" Veer's danger sense—which had been screaming constantly since lunch—kicked up another notch. "What kind of goodbye rituals?"
"The normal kind!" Eleanor said with obviously forced innocence. "The kind where friends say goodbye to each other after a pleasant afternoon!"
"Why do you sound like a lawyer defending a clearly guilty client?"
"Because I'm PRE-EMPTIVELY establishing plausible deniability!"
Edythe had the grace to look somewhat apologetic, which was never a good sign. "What Eleanor is failing to articulate with any degree of subtlety—"
"I'm EXTREMELY subtle!"
"You're the opposite of subtle. You're the anti-subtle. If subtle was a place, you'd be banned from entering."
"That's RUDE and also ACCURATE."
"—is that in our family, we have certain... traditions about saying goodbye to people we care about."
Veer's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "What kind of traditions?"
"The European kind!" Eleanor said brightly.
"You're not European."
"We could be! We're very cosmopolitan! We have RANGE!"
"Specifically," Jessamyn said with that honey-warm drawl that made even normal words sound like they had eighteen layers of subtext, "we tend to be physically affectionate people, sugar. Hugs. Cheek kisses. That sort of thing."
"CHEEK kisses," Veer repeated slowly, his brain trying to process whether this was actually innocent or if he was walking into some kind of elaborate situation. "Just cheek kisses. Normal, friendly, European-style cheek kisses."
"Extremely normal," all three sisters said with the kind of synchronized delivery that suggested they'd practiced this conversation.
Bella was watching this exchange with the expression of someone observing a nature documentary about predators stalking prey. "This feels like a trap."
"It's not a trap!" Eleanor protested. "It's just AFFECTION. We're AFFECTIONATE people! We have FEELINGS! The feelings demand PHYSICAL EXPRESSION!"
"That's definitely what someone setting a trap would say."
"Bella, I'm WOUNDED. WOUNDED by your implications. My feelings have feelings and those feelings are HURT."
"Your feelings have feelings?"
"Absolutely. It's very complicated. I'm very complex. Layers upon layers. Like an onion. Or a lasagna. Or a really emotionally complicated onion lasagna."
Veer looked at Jessamyn, who was still leaning against the Charger like someone had posed her for a magazine cover about "Women Who Drive Fast Cars and Break Hearts." "Is this actually innocent or should I be concerned?"
"Little bit of both, darlin'." She pushed off the car and moved toward him with that tactical grace that suggested she'd calculated every step. "But mostly innocent. We just want to say goodbye proper-like. Unless you're uncomfortable, in which case we can just wave awkwardly from a distance like emotionally stunted people who don't know how to express affection."
"The awkward waving sounds safer."
"Safer isn't always better, sugar."
"That's definitely trap talk!"
"Can both things be true?" Edythe offered diplomatically. "Can it be slightly trap-like AND genuine affection?"
"No!" Bella said. "Those are mutually exclusive categories! That's basic logic!"
"Logic is boring," Eleanor declared. "Logic is for people who don't know how to LIVE."
"Logic is for people who don't want to get TRAPPED."
"You can't trap the willing!"
"THAT'S STILL TRAPPING."
While Bella and Eleanor engaged in their increasingly philosophical debate about the nature of traps and consent, Jessamyn had somehow closed the distance between herself and Veer with the stealth of a very attractive ninja. She was now approximately two feet away, which was close enough that he could smell whatever impossibly expensive perfume she wore—something that suggested expensive hotels and decisions that seemed like good ideas at the time.
"So," she said, her voice dropping to that lower register that made his spine do interesting things, "do I have permission to say goodbye properly? And before you ask, properly means a hug and maybe a kiss on the cheek. Very PG. Extremely rated for general audiences."
"The 'maybe' is doing a lot of work in that sentence."
"I'm giving myself strategic flexibility. It's a negotiation tactic. Very professional. Could be taught in business school."
"Why does saying goodbye require negotiation tactics?"
"Everything requires negotiation tactics if you want it done right."
Veer looked at Bella for help, but his cousin had her phone out and was clearly filming this for future blackmail purposes. "You're supposed to be my backup!"
"I'm DOCUMENTING," Bella said. "This is EVIDENCE. For the ARCHIVE. Future generations need to know what happened here."
"What archive?!"
"The archive of QUESTIONABLE DECISIONS. It's very extensive. You're a significant contributor."
"I hate both of you."
"You absolutely don't though," Jessamyn said with confidence that bordered on precognitive. "That's kind of the whole thing we're doing here."
She stepped closer—close enough that Veer had to make an active decision about whether to step back (cowardly but safe) or hold his ground (brave but potentially dangerous). He held his ground, because apparently his survival instincts had filed for unemployment.
"This okay?" she asked quietly, and the fact that she was actually checking for consent despite all the teasing made something warm bloom in his chest.
"Yeah," he said, and meant it. "This is okay."
The hug was—well, it was a lot of things. Warm, obviously. Jessamyn was roughly his height, which made the geometry work perfectly. She smelled like chlorinated hot springs and expensive perfume and something uniquely her that he couldn't quite identify. And she was solid in a way that suggested regular gym visits and possibly supernatural strength, though that second part was just speculation.
"You did good today, sugar," she murmured against his shoulder, quiet enough that probably only he could hear. "Handled all our chaos like a champion. That's not easy."
"I'm still processing most of it."
"That's fair. We're a lot to process." She pulled back slightly, and before Veer's brain could fully register what was happening, she'd pressed a kiss to his cheek—soft, warm, and exactly as innocent as advertised while still managing to make his heart rate spike like he'd just sprinted up a mountain.
"There," she said with obvious satisfaction, stepping back to give him space. "Proper goodbye. Very European. Extremely cultured."
"That was—" Veer's brain scrambled for words. "That was nice."
"Nice?" Jessamyn's eyebrow arched with challenge. "Just nice? I'm wounded, darlin'. That was at LEAST 'very nice.' Possibly 'extremely nice.' I'm willing to negotiate on the exact degree of niceness, but 'nice' alone is selling me short."
"Extremely nice," Veer corrected quickly. "World-class nice. Olympic-medal-worthy nice."
"Better." She moved aside with a theatrical bow. "Ladies? He's warmed up. The field is open."
"I'm not a FIELD!"
"You're metaphorically a field," Eleanor said, already bouncing forward with that golden retriever energy that made her impossible to resist. "A field of opportunities! A field of—okay, I'm losing the metaphor. Point is, my turn!"
Eleanor's hug was different from Jessamyn's—more enthusiastic, less calculated, like being hugged by a very happy earthquake. She actually lifted him slightly off the ground, which should've been physically impossible given her size but apparently enthusiasm could override physics.
"You're so GREAT," she said with the kind of genuine warmth that made his chest tight. "Like, actually genuinely great. Not fake great. Not 'being polite to the new person' great. Real great. The kind of great that makes me want to keep you around for a really long time."
"That's—wow, okay, that's really sweet."
"I'm FULL of sweet! I'm basically MADE of sweet! I'm a walking CANDY STORE of emotions!" She pulled back, grinning up at him. "Okay, kiss rules: I'm going for both cheeks because I'm EXTRA and you can't stop me."
"Why would both cheeks—"
Too late. Eleanor had already executed her plan with the precision of a military operation—left cheek, right cheek, both kisses quick and warm and completely G-rated while still somehow making Veer feel like his entire face was on fire.
"THERE," she announced triumphantly. "Double goodbye! Twice the affection! I'm an OVERACHIEVER!"
"You're something," Veer managed.
"Thank you! That's very kind! Probably meant as an insult but I'm choosing to receive it as a compliment! Positive mindset! Self-care!"
Edythe had been hanging back, watching this entire display with her characteristic refined amusement, but now she stepped forward with that natural grace that made every movement look choreographed.
"I promise to be less enthusiastic than Eleanor and less strategically calculated than Jessamyn," she said with a slight smile. "Though I make no promises about landing somewhere between the two."
"That's not reassuring."
"It's not meant to be. It's meant to be accurate." She moved into the hug with perfect precision—not too tight, not too distant, exactly the right amount of pressure that suggested both genuine affection and respect for personal space.
Her kiss was placed on his cheek with the same refined precision, soft and brief and somehow managing to be both completely innocent and still make him feel like he'd been blessed by royalty. Which, given the European royalty theories floating around school, might actually be accurate for all he knew.
"Thank you for today," she said quietly, pulling back but maintaining eye contact. "For giving us a chance to be ourselves instead of our carefully constructed personas. That's rare. We appreciate it."
"You're welcome?" Veer said, because what else do you say when someone thanks you for letting them be themselves?
"Also," she added with just a hint of mischief, "Eleanor was right. You are extremely great. We're very pleased with this development."
"I'm a DEVELOPMENT now?"
"A positive development. An encouraging development. The best kind of development." She stepped back to rejoin her sisters, who were watching with obvious satisfaction. "Same time next weekend?"
"I—what? We're scheduling this? This is a recurring thing?"
"Of course it's recurring!" Eleanor said with the confidence of someone who'd already blocked out the time in her calendar. "We're DATING! Dating involves RECURRING ACTIVITIES! That's how it WORKS!"
"Are we dating? I thought we were 'getting to know each other' and 'seeing what happens'!"
"That IS dating! That's literally the definition of dating! Getting to know someone while seeing what happens! The only difference is semantic!"
"Semantics are IMPORTANT!"
"Semantics are BORING!"
Bella had lowered her phone, having apparently captured enough footage for her blackmail purposes. "I have seventeen minutes of video evidence that you all just kissed my cousin goodbye like you're in some kind of period drama about complicated courtship rituals."
"It's only eleven minutes," Jessamyn corrected. "You started filming late. I was tracking the timeline."
"Why were you tracking the timeline?!"
"Strategic awareness. Always know your operational parameters."
"That's MILITARY TALK. Why are you using MILITARY TALK about KISSING?"
"All warfare is based on deception. Sun Tzu said that. Very applicable to romance."
"Sun Tzu did NOT mean it like that!"
"Can't prove it. He's dead. I'm claiming interpretive authority."
Veer had made it to Bella's truck and was climbing into the driver's seat with the careful movements of someone who'd just survived a metaphorical minefield and wasn't sure if there were any unexploded ordinances remaining.
"That was—" he started.
"Coordinated," Bella finished. "That was extremely coordinated. Suspiciously coordinated. They definitely planned that whole thing."
"You think?"
"I KNOW. I watched them. They were doing the eye-contact communication thing before each person went. There was a SEQUENCE. A STRATEGY. They WORKSHOPPED this."
"Why would they workshop goodbye kisses?!"
"Because they're THEM." Bella gestured at where the three sisters were now leaning against their respective vehicles, looking extremely pleased with themselves. "Everything is planned. Everything is strategic. Probably color-coded."
"Definitely color-coded," Jessamyn called out, because apparently vampire hearing was real and extensive. "Jessamyn was red, Eleanor was blue, Edythe was green! The spreadsheet is very organized!"
"THERE'S A SPREADSHEET FOR THIS?!"
"There's a spreadsheet for EVERYTHING! We've been over this! KEEP UP!"
Veer started the truck, which responded with its usual mechanical commentary about the injustices of existence. "I need to go home and lie down. Possibly in darkness. Definitely in silence."
"You're not getting silence," Bella said with the certainty of someone who knew how families worked. "Charlie's going to have QUESTIONS. So many questions. All the questions."
"Can I fake a medical emergency?"
"Which one?"
"Any of them. All of them. I'm not picky."
"Appendicitis is the most believable. Hard to disprove without expensive medical imaging."
"Why do you know that?"
"I've thought about it. When Mom was going through her 'finding herself' phases and introducing me to questionable men, I had a whole list of medical emergencies I could fake to escape uncomfortable situations."
"That's concerning."
"That's PREPARATION. There's a difference."
The three sisters were waving as they pulled away—not normal waves, but synchronized waves that suggested they'd practiced this too. Probably had a routine. Maybe choreography. Possibly a musical number they were saving for later.
"They're ridiculous," Veer said, waving back despite himself.
"They're yours," Bella corrected. "Apparently. Collectively. Through some kind of sister-sharing arrangement that definitely shouldn't work but somehow does."
"Is this my life now? Is this what I'm doing? Dating three sisters who color-code their goodbye kisses?"
"Looks like it."
"How did this happen?"
"You have a hero complex and a face like a Bollywood movie star. What did you THINK was going to happen?"
"Not THIS. Literally anything except this."
They drove in silence for a moment before Bella spoke again, her voice quieter now. "For what it's worth? They seem like they genuinely care about you. Like, actually care. Not just 'he's hot and convenient' care. Real care."
"How can you tell?"
"The way they look at you when you're not looking. The way they listen when you talk. The way they made sure you were okay with every step before doing it." She paused. "Also the spreadsheets. You don't make that many spreadsheets about someone you don't care about."
"The spreadsheets are evidence of caring?"
"The spreadsheets are evidence of COMMITMENT. Of investment. Of taking this seriously enough to organize it." Bella laughed. "Most girls our age are playing games. Yours have developed multi-tab spreadsheet systems. That's dedication."
"Or obsession."
"Can't it be both?"
"Why does everyone keep saying that?!"
"Because it's TRUE. The best relationships are both dedicated AND a little obsessive. That's how you know they're INVESTED."
Veer navigated the truck through increasingly familiar streets, Forks' modest downtown giving way to residential areas where he could now identify which houses belonged to which families from school.
"So," Bella said eventually, "are you going to tell Charlie about this?"
"About what? The hot springs? The three sisters? The color-coded goodbye kisses? The spreadsheets? Which part am I supposed to explain?"
"Any of it. All of it. Charlie's going to notice you've been gone all afternoon with three of the most beautiful girls in school. He's a detective. Detection is literally his job."
"I'll tell him we went on a tour. Saw some sights. Had good conversations. Very innocent. Very PG."
"You're a terrible liar."
"I know."
"He's going to see right through it."
"I KNOW."
"And then he's going to have OPINIONS."
"I KNOW."
"Strong opinions. Fatherly opinions. The kind of opinions that come with lectures about responsibility and protection and probably some deeply uncomfortable metaphors involving cars that I still haven't recovered from."
"Can we NOT talk about Charlie's car metaphors?!"
"Too late. Already thinking about them. They're haunting me. They'll haunt you too. That's what families do. We share trauma."
"That's not what families do!"
"It's exactly what families do. That's the FOUNDATION of family. Shared trauma and inside jokes that made sense at the time."
They pulled into the driveway just as Charlie's police cruiser was parking. Perfect timing. Absolutely couldn't have been worse if they'd tried.
Charlie climbed out, already smiling, his cop instincts clearly detecting something unusual about their energy. "You kids have a good afternoon?"
"Define good," Bella said immediately.
"Bella," Veer hissed.
"What? I'm establishing parameters! Good is subjective! Context-dependent!"
Charlie's smile widened. "That good, huh? Well, come on inside. I picked up Chinese from Port Angeles. Figured you two earned a break from cooking after last night's dinner party."
"Dinner party?" Veer asked.
"The Cullen sisters. Who stopped by. To 'check on you.'" Charlie's air quotes were aggressive. Pointed. Full of fatherly knowing. "You know. That dinner party."
"Oh god," Veer muttered.
"Oh GOD," Bella agreed.
"Also," Charlie added casually, too casually, "Jacob called. Something about surprising news? Wanted to know if the 'cosmic harem situation' had developed further?" His eyebrows were doing their own interrogation. "Want to explain that one?"
"No," Veer said with feeling. "Absolutely not. Not even a little bit. Jacob's exaggerating. He's dramatic. Very theatrical. Can't trust a word he says."
"Uh-huh." Charlie was grinning now, full cop-dad mode activated. "Well, come on in anyway. Food's getting cold. And you can not-explain things to me over egg rolls and questionable sweet and sour chicken."
As they trudged toward the house like prisoners approaching their sentencing, Bella leaned close to whisper: "I tried to warn you."
"This is your fault somehow."
"How is this MY fault?!"
"I don't know yet but I'm working on it. There's a logical connection. I'll find it."
"That's not how logic works!"
"It's working exactly how I need it to work right now!"
Inside, Charlie was already setting out the Chinese food with the efficiency of someone who'd done this many times before. The smell of MSG and questionable protein filled the kitchen like a promise of interrogation disguised as dinner.
"So," Charlie said with false casualness, "three Cullen sisters, huh? All interested in the same nephew? At the same time?"
"It's complicated," Veer tried.
"Complicated how? Like 'complicated math problem' complicated or 'complicated explanation that's going to require me to have opinions' complicated?"
"The second one."
"Thought so." Charlie settled into his chair, opening containers with practiced movements. "Well, take your time explaining. We've got all evening. And all this Chinese food. And nowhere to be tomorrow except church, which you're both going to because I'm making executive decisions about moral guidance."
"We don't go to church!"
"We do now. I've decided. Parental authority. Also I want to see how you explain this to Pastor Weber when he asks about your weekend. That's going to be entertainment I won't have to pay for."
"This is cruel and unusual punishment!"
"This is called 'being a parent.' Now eat your egg rolls and explain why Jacob Black thinks you're involved in a 'cosmic harem situation' that apparently requires documentation."
Veer looked at Bella. Bella looked at Veer. They engaged in another silent cousin conversation that roughly translated to: "We're doomed. Completely, utterly doomed. There's no escape. This is our life now."
"From the beginning," Charlie prompted with obvious satisfaction. "And don't leave anything out. I want the full story. Every detail. Especially the parts that make you uncomfortable. Those are usually the most important ones."
Outside, the evening had fully descended into night. Somewhere across town, three sisters were probably reviewing their spreadsheets and planning next weekend's activities with military precision. And in the Swan house, two teenagers were about to attempt explaining the unexplainable to a man whose job was detecting when people weren't telling him the whole truth.
It was going to be a long night.
But looking at Charlie's expectant face and Bella's resigned expression and the Chinese food that was definitely going to get cold during this conversation—
Veer found himself thinking that maybe that was okay.
Maybe family interrogations about complicated relationship situations were just part of life now.
Maybe having people who cared enough to ask questions and demand explanations was actually a good thing.
Maybe, just maybe, his completely ridiculous new life in Forks was going to work out.
Provided he survived Charlie's interrogation.
And Pastor Weber's inevitable questions.
And whatever the sisters had planned for next weekend.
But one crisis at a time.
First, Chinese food and parental cross-examination.
Then everything else.
---
*Meanwhile, across town in the elegant Cullen living room...*
"So," Emmett said, barely containing his grin, "did you three really color-code your goodbye kisses?"
"IT WAS ORGANIZED," Eleanor defended. "ORGANIZATION IS GOOD. SPREADSHEETS MAKE THINGS BETTER."
"You're insane," Rosalie said, but she was smiling. "All three of you."
"Insane but effective," Jessamyn corrected with satisfaction. "He didn't run away screaming. I'm calling that a win."
"The bar is low," Jasper observed.
"The bar is APPROPRIATELY CALIBRATED," Edythe said with dignity. "Given the circumstances."
Alice was practically vibrating with glee. "I saw the future. It's good. Very good. Extremely good. You three are doing GREAT."
"Define great," Carlisle said carefully from his position by the fireplace, looking every bit the concerned father. "Because from my perspective, this is spiraling into very complicated territory very quickly."
"It spiraled into complicated territory the moment Alice had her vision," Esme said gently. "We're just managing the trajectory now."
"MANAGING THE TRAJECTORY," Eleanor repeated with glee. "I love it. That's our new motto. 'The Cullen Sisters: Managing Trajectories Since Whenever We Got Here.'"
"That's terrible."
"It's PERFECT."
"It's both," everyone agreed simultaneously.
Because some things, it turned out, could absolutely be two things at once.
And in the Cullen household, that was just called Tuesday.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there!