Twilight Fanfiction-Prompt:Sweatshirt
The game- who knows which- was buzzing from the other room as I stood in front of the kitchen sink. Dip, scrub, rinse, stack. It was comforting, the rhythm of washing dishes. It was constant, it was predictable- everything my life was not right now.
Dip.
Tonight, Billy and Jacob had come over to watch the game. It was a big game- the finals of baseball or basketball, whichever was in June. The type of game which was no fun to watch alone.
Scrub.
I had been so tense when they walked through the door. I had reason. I hadn't seen Jacob since last week. The kiss, which shall forever be in my mine capitalized- The Kiss. Because it hadn't been just any kiss. It had been the end of an era- or maybe the era of perfect Edward had ended ages ago. I don't know. All I know is that it was over.
Rinse.
It had been tense all throughout the evening. Jacob felt the same as me. I was grateful he didn't try to hit on me or anything, but I wish we could go back to how we were before, last autumn, as just friends. Jacob used to be so easy to talk to. Today, he was avoiding my eyes. He stared at my TV screen, eyes glassy. His mind was not on the Supersonics or who ever they were playing. He responded when Billy or Charlie talked to him. I was glad they were there. They knew nothing; the last thing either of us wanted to do was say anything in front of our fathers. They were a balance. I've discovered Jacob is an excellent actor. I doubt they realized anything was wrong, although even Jacob couldn't conceal his relief when I excused myself to flee to my room.
Stack.
"Bella?"
My thoughts snapped back to reality at the sound of Charlie's voice. I stuck the final bowl from dinner into the old gray dishwasher, filled it up with soap, and flooded the tiny chamber with water with the press of a button. I followed Charlie's voice into the living room, where the game was still going on.
He was sitting in the overstuffed crimson armchair he loved for his games. He held, in his hand, a sweatshirt, precisely the same shade as the chair. A wave of foreboding swept over me. I recognized it immediately. The red sweatshirt with Seattle written on in white letters that Jacob had been wearing before taking it off halfway though the game to reveal a tight, heather gray t-shirt that showed off every one of his muscles-
"Can you drop this off to Jacob tomorrow? He left it here today, and I know he was going on that weeklong camping trip with his friends- he might need it." He finished simply. I nodded, not trusting my mouth to speak, for fear it would protest without consulting my brain. I grabbed it and left.
I sat on my bed 10 minutes later, dressed in my soft flannel pajamas from a department store I bough on my last trip to Port Angeles. Tomorrow would be a stressful day. I wish at least that Edward was there to comfort me. Instead he was hunting, and I couldn't tell him about this problem anyway. I wish Jacob had just taken his stupid sweatshirt home with him. I wish life was as simple as washing dishes- Dip, scrub, rinse, stack.