Sorry several chapters are in one "page," but I get lazy uploading documents.
Stephenie Meyer owns rights and has property over the Twilight series.
Who needs all the heart-pounding action and sweat-inducing sensual scenes anyway (looks around nervously)? This story is going to be nice and easy.
"My, How You Have Grown"
ONE: ERIC YORKIE'S TWELVE MINUTES
-
MAY, SOPHOMORE YEAR
Today I worried about gym class. We were going to run the mile, and in a town like Forks where a sunny day comes rarely, a cloudless sky was never wasted. Long story short, everybody in the sophomore class had to test today. Not a hard task, considering there were only about ninety sophomores in Forks High School.
"Come on let's move those feet!" Coach Clapp blew his whistle. Standing on the track, he pretended to be a police officer, holding his stopwatch to time the students passing by.
He ignored the grumbles and complaints that were sung in unison by my classmates. Tyler Crowley, probably the loudest kid in class, danced his way around groups of girls, elbowing them rather harshly and laughing out loud.
"Ready to run the mile, girls?" Tyler asked when he passed Jessica and Lauren. They giggled and twirled their hair, looking self-consciously around as they confessed that No, they were so not ready to sweat and get a zero in the end.
Beside me, Angela Weber scoffed. "Why do they have to act like that?" she asked her boyfriend Ben Cheney.
I was grateful for Angela and Ben, because, even though they did not talk to me directly, they did not make a show of suddenly noticing me or staying out of my way.
So I walked a close distance from the couple, listening to their conversation as if it were my own. As if I were part of their friendship. I've lived my whole life in Forks like this, and somehow I've deluded myself into thinking it's okay. Somehow, someday, I'll change things. I'll live somewhere and never look back here.
At least, that's what I thought as I walked toward the awaiting rest of the class. I was never good at sports, and this was known to the rest of them, whom I've grown up with but never considered friends. I assured myself that the mile test would be over before I knew it.
Coach Clapp began to organize how the testing was supposed to go. "Boys go first," he said. "So girls stay by the bleachers and stretch. Boys, come here by the starting line. Four laps in seven minutes or under gets you a hundred. From there, we'll work out how many points you lose when you pass that seven-minute mark."
As the teacher spoke, my eyes roamed the students preparing to run. There was a surprising diversity among the boys, and it was comical how each and every one of them represented one part of the world. There was a lot of pride and competition among the boys. On the plus side, sometimes they got so competitive that they'd leave me alone.
On the other hand, their competition had some nasty results, toward me in particular. And I'm not talking about a male fight to see "who gets Bella's first kiss" or anything close to that. As complicated and heart-tearing as that sounds, I think anyone would choose that situation over mine.
Allow me to demonstrate.
As I observed a half of the student body, I so happened to be glancing at Edward Cullen's tying his sneakers when he too looked at me. Don't ask me why he looked at me—in my opinion, he should've been looking at his shoes if he was tying their laces—but it was very unfortunate, because it provoked him to do what he did best.
He straightened up. We were far away from each other, so he had to shout what he said, "You lookin' at me, Swan?"
Of course, I blushed. I got angry at myself. The boys and girls snickered. Coach Clapp shook his head.
"As I was saying," Clapp continued, ending all murmurs, "the boys go first, then the girls. For the girls, eight minutes gives you a hundred." He motioned for us to walk toward the bleachers, and after some more whines from the whinier girls, we walked. Angela once again let me walk almost next to her.
We were passing by the group of boys. I could see some of us shifting our hair, giggling softly, or just genially smiling. I turned my face forward, tried to stop the urge to just stare at the ground like I've been defeated.
"Gonna trip today, Swan?" Jasper Hale whispered as I walked by. I didn't even look at him as I eyed the silver benches.
I saw Mike Newton grinning at me. He nudged Eric Yorkie, who worriedly looked at me through his glasses. You could say he was one of the few people I liked, and one of the unlikeliest people to be liked.
"Wanna go on a date with me, Bella?" Mike Newton said. "Your mom could come along; she'll make it so much more fun—"
I had glared and brushed past him without listening for more. I've heard it one too many times.
Finally, I sat down on a bleacher. I was the first person to sit, so I chose the lowest rung. I put my arms around my knees and glared at the trashcan to my left.
Other girls started to sit around me, but I knew there would be a big distance that singled me out as a loner.
"So Bella," Victoria said loudly. "Why were you looking at Edward?"
I didn't want to look at her, but I also did not want to seem deaf, so I turned around and faced Victoria Messing. Her vivid red hair was tied in a neat ponytail. She sat next to Rosalie Hale and Kate Denalis.
Kate immediately added, "Yeah I saw that. You have a crush on him or something?" Automatically other girls laughed. Others offered a nervous chuckle.
"No, I really don't have a crush on him." I tried to sound strong. I really did. But the obnoxious ones always get heard.
Rosalie stood up, brushing her blond hair past her shoulders. "Roy!" she called. Her boyfriend, Roy King, was running next to Edward. Those two were very handsome and well liked, no doubt, but they had this thing where they'd pick on me or people like me—for example, Eric Yorkie.
"Baby!" Rosalie yelled, making every boy look at her. "Tell Edward that Bella likes him! She told us herself!"
Edward winked. "Aw, Isabella, you don't have to be shy about it. We could get together, and your mom could—"
Coach Clapp blew his whistle. "Cut it out, Cullen!"
The funny thing is, at first—in third grade—I fancied Cullen had a crush on me, that's why he'd annoy me. He'd take my lunch and then I'd have to chase him around the cafeteria until a teacher would tell us to sit down and eat.
But then the other boys joined in on his fun. They praised him for making a girl angry. Then Edward Cullen stepped up his antics. The hurtful prank calls, the insecurity that only I felt, the rumors that everyone but me enjoyed—Edward was a good bully. He was antisocial toward me; he felt no remorse for hurting my feelings. I remember he stole my history project and when I tried to get it back, he told everyone that I was the thief. The teacher at the time believed his side of the story, but as years went by it was made clear who the victim always will be.
By the way, the fastest boys had finished by then. They held their heads high and strolled toward the girls. You could tell they were trying hard not to shake from how sore their muscles got or how lopsided their walk became.
Edward Cullen placed himself two seats behind me.
I concentrated on the track. Only Eric Yorkie was left, because Rob "Pudgy" Binns had walked aside and vomited two orders of today's lunch.
Probably looking at the same direction, Edward spoke. "You gonna puke as well, Isabella? You get nauseous easily, don't you?"
The thing is, I don't like answering rhetoric. I shrugged and kept my eyes on Yorkie, aware of the laughs. I make it too easy for him, don't I?
Come on, Eric, you can make it under twelve minutes. Clapp's still timing you. You still got a chance to prove 'em wrong. The boy was panting and his head was lolling side-to-side. Pale, skinny arms flailed as if a string had control of his limbs.
"The poor guy's wheezing," Benji Wu commented not sympathetically.
"Look at him!" Mike Newton added. "He's gonna pass out, just like last year." This time it was he who was wheezing from laughter.
A bunch of Ohs and Oh yeahs followed, and I mentally urged Eric to keep going. For the boys, a mile over twelve minutes was a zero. The girls' had a minute more, but lucky for me I've always passed just under ten minutes, making me average at running. However, my disastrous performance at gym in general rightfully pegged me as clumsy and a loser of all competition.
Before I could scream or cheer or say anything at all, Eric Yorkie was walking. Coach Clapp pocketed his stopwatch and quickly wrote on his grade book.
A round of grins followed Yorkie as he sat sulkily on the bleachers. He caught my eye and I smiled, and then averted my eyes. Later on I'd learn that he got a zero, but he didn't look so defeated then.
"Alright! Let's get the girls on the track." With renewed enthusiasm the teacher rounded us up and again explained what we were to do. I saw the boys laughing. Eric Yorkie was walking to the bathroom.
I was standing at the very back of the group when Clapp blew the whistle for go.
A little delayed, I started. I knew that pacing was key, so I didn't push hard for the three laps. I didn't pay attention to who was first or last; I made quick lane changes whenever I passed someone. The final lap I made an excruciating effort. Silly, because I knew the feeling when it came. The sudden burning in your lungs, the way it spread and paralyzed your legs—at least, made you think you absolutely cannot move anymore.
With 400 meters curved ahead, my mind wandered. I begged for it to think about anything but fatigue.
The first thing I saw was Jasper Hale's blond hair being ruffled by someone's hand. They were acting how friends acted, laughing and teasing without harm.
I felt myself slow down.
Also, I looked at Eric Yorkie, who'd come back and was answering some questions from smug-looking boys. Mike Newton, the coward, was among them.
The blur created by the speed was clearing.
Up ahead at the bleachers, I saw the boy with bronze-colored hair and pale skin and athletic body sitting all by himself. Edward was watching us. It took me a moment to realize he was staring at me, at my face.
So my first instinct was to run faster, to run the curve and turn my back on him.
Why would he be looking at me? Was I running all weird? I checked my sneakers. Not untied.
The good thing about running is that it is encouraged to keep your head down at all times. It's some psychological thing that makes the track shorter.
"Eight minutes and thirty seconds good job Swan," Coach Clapp announced in a rush as I passed. He was as shocked as I was.
Instead of being impressed with how much I'd improved from last year, I felt a rush of dread that quelled the adrenaline in my body.
Great. Now I was the only girl among the people seated on the bleachers. No one else had finished, though I saw Irina had half a lap left.
"Swan finished first, whoa!" Some of the boys had their hands raised in mock appreciation. It made me change my course and sit next to Eric Yorkie, who smiled at me.
"Great job." His voice squeaked, and it sounded worse that it usually was because everyone else shushed to listen to what the two dorks would say to each other.
"Thanks," I said. We turned our heads to watch the girls finish up.
When the girls finished, the teacher set up a game of kickball, but everyone else just sat around and talked. I sat beside Eric. Between him and me, he was being more social because he actually talked to Rob Binns, asking him if he was okay or if he went to the nurse.
"I'm fine," Rob insisted, holding his chest as it heaved. "It's just my asthma."
We had exactly twelve minutes left of class when we were summoned to go back inside.
"Good job today guys," Coach said. "You too, Miss Swan," he half-whispered to me as I passed. I looked up at his old face, the sinew of muscles apparent on his neck.
I smiled. That had got to be a first.
Eric saw our exchange. When I looked at him, he blushed and laughed nervously.
"Sorry," he said awkwardly as we walked a long way behind the rest of the class. "But really, g-great job at the mile. D'you run a lot?"
"No, not really," I told him. "You did okay, too, I guess."
This was also a first. Even though we sometimes stayed together, we never actually uttered more than one sentence to each other. Yeah, I bet you now have no doubt about how weird and unsocial I am—I've become.
Eric told me how embarrassed he felt when he finished last, and have Coach Clapp tell him he should start training because considering how skinny he is, he'd be a main target for jocks.
"And it doesn't help that they know I'm in advanced classes," he muttered. We were all crowded by the entrance doors to the gym, waiting two by two for us to enter.
Just then the seniors came by, having just finished lacrosse. Laurent Lao, baseball team's captain, sauntered by and hit Eric's arm. "That,s right, Dorky," he jeered, "don't forget: you still have my English assignment to finish over the weekend."
Eric scowled but didn't show it, because the seniors passed by and turned their attention to the "cool" sophomores.
"Yo, Eddie-boy, wassup?" Laurent patted him on the back.
Edward grinned at him. He'd always hated the nickname Eddie. "Emmett's having a party this Friday. It's his birthday. You think you can come?"
The older boy smiled real wide, and, after about ten seconds of slapping Edward on the back and making gang signs, Laurent said he could make it.
Eric had been hugging his triceps the whole time.
Just then Mike came by. "Hey Edward, remember Eric's mile?" He laughed. "What was your time, Eric?"
This guy annoyed me. Not only did he insult Eric Yorkie, he also treated him like a friend some other times. The problem I have with Newton is that he knows the difference between a good friend and a shitty bastard. He also knows how to act the former and the latter.
"I got a thirteen forty," Eric mumbled.
You could tell Edward and Laurent laughed painfully at this.
"Pathetic," Laurent smugly said. "You comin' to the party, Dorky?" He raised his eyebrows. "Plenty of non-imaginary gi-irls!" he sang.
The line was moving forward. Only two more pairs and we'd be inside, where I can separate off to the girls' locker room.
Edward laughed too. "Yeah, Yorkie, sure you can come." He snorted another snicker. "You too, Swan. I'd love to see you in a party outfit. For you, I'd make it a costume party."
"Shut up."
"Then you can wear a bunny outfit," he continued.
"Ugh." I shoved past him so I could enter the gym. He laughed behind me.
"Just like Miss Rene—"
I had turned around and shoved him as hard as I could. He gasped but unfortunately I was too weak to move him more than a foot back. On instinct, he'd held on to my arms. It was pathetic how hard I struggled getting out of his grip. He was too surprised to let go of me immediately.
In that second or two when I'd felt my arms trapped, I became aware that there was no fighting this guy. Call me depressed, but some things you just can't physically do. I mean, he was a foot taller than me, and way more muscular.
Jeez. This was unfair.
"The hell you're trying to do?" Edward asked, amused. It didn't help that Eric had gone and left me with all the seniors passing by, not caring what a bunch of underclassmen were up to. No, that was a lie; even senior girls had a crush on Sexy Hair Cullen. It didn't hurt that Sexy Hair had a brother, Good Guy Quarterback. There are other equally obnoxious nicknames, but I won't say them now, not when I have something else to tell.
"Just stop, okay?" I swung my hand away and hurried to the lockers.
TWO: THE YEAR SINKS SLOWLY BY. . .
- -
Sophomore year meant Chemistry. For some girls, it meant asking the sweet, smart guys to help them set things on fire or hold a test tube clamp together.
For others—for example, me—Chemistry was multitasking. I had to observe for reactions, record, and mix the chemicals. I had to see through the rubbery eye goggles that were scratched. I had to make sure my current partner appeared to be doing something, or else Mr. Hunt would ask me about it and I'd be switched to another partner.
That already happened, like, twelve times. All the good angels of Chem class were taken, apparently.
Nate Stroy, that awful slacker who liked to skateboard wherever it was prohibited, was burning the eraser of his pencil over the flame.
"So we just what—wait for this thing to bubble?"
"What thing?" I asked. Because we were working with solid metals, not liquids.
Mr. Hunt had passed by and heard this. "Nathaniel, stop burning the eraser! It smells god-awful already in here." He snatched the blackened pencil. "And for Pete's sake wear your goggles."
Stroy groaned. "Alright, alright."
But he moved too sluggish. Mr. Hunt sent him to the office.
"Next time, Isabella," he scolded slightly, "your partner will be—er..."
I returned to the experiment as he scanned for possibilities.
"Edward," he decided.
Mr. Hunt was the newest and youngest teacher in Forks High. This year was his first year. He coached the track team, and was very fond of athletic people like Emmett and Edward Cullen. His fiancee recently worked as a nurse for Dr. Carlisle Cullen.
I didn't even bother to act angry.
At first Jessica Stanley had thrown a fit, but after a while Edward told her to shut whining and just "make do" with their Chemistry time left.
So the next day, Edward and I sat down. It was surprising that he acquiesced to being my lab partner.
"Knew you couldn't stay away from me," he said. "We're gonna have so much fun, aren't we?"
Oh. No wonder he agreed so readily.
"Sure," I replied flatly.
"Your mom doing good?" What a great conversationalist he was.
"Wouldn't know." I gritted my teeth.
I could see his suppressing a smile. "Oh, that's right. She's in Phoenix, right? Yeah when's the last time you visited her?" He mused. "I'm thinking you should pay her a visit. It'd do you some good—get you a tan even." He chuckled. "I bet you'd look—"
"I don't care what you bet on anything, alright?"
Edward laughed. He really thought this was funny, that's what bugged me. "Don't have to be so defensive, Bella. If you didn't want to talk about it, just say so."
"I wasn't being defensive, that doesn't even —"
"You're always defensive."
"—make any sense," I finished and turned my head away. This town was depressing. Out the window, a dark sky stood behind dark green trees and sad-looking cars.
Class started, Mr. Hunt assigned us a project. "In lieu of giving you guys a very hard chapter test like I've been doing for the past nine months," he began, passing papers to the class, "I've assigned you guys a project."
The class groaned.
"You can work with a partner, which I very much encourage." He slapped a packet of papers on our table. "That way you might work a little better, and hopefully I won't be answering e-mails all day explaining why some of you can't seem to get past a C average." He slammed the remaining papers harshly on his desk. "This is chem, people, not rocket science. A little logic and common sense may be required, yes? So, get on to it."
Everyone started standing and asking others to be his/her partner. Edward and I just sat where we were.
"Are you working alone?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah," I said.
He nodded. "Me too."
I blinked. Not any of my business.
However, Mr. Hunt ended up putting us as partners because people couldn't assign themselves with a partner without shouting or fighting.
"I try to give you people some freedom, this is what happens," Mr. Hunt sighed. "Ah... I've got a headache. You know what to do, get to it. I'm goin' to step out to the nurse really quickly."
Edward and I got an A for our project. We had to demonstrate and explain one type of chemical reaction, our choice of course. We picked the easiest one, combination reaction, because basically you just combine two reactants to make one product.
We met two times in the library, making a PowerPoint and a poster on the same day. He was really smart, and he was one of those people who can slack off in high school and get good grades. School came pretty easy to me, but lately I've had to continually review so I won't lose grasp of what I learn.
Anyway, my whole point is that when Edward did not want to cause trouble, he was a nice guy to have as a lab partner. I did not switch partners for the rest of the year. Of course, we didn't really make much small talk.
Partly because we already knew so much about each other. We've (I mean almost everyone in my grade, or the whole school for that matter) known each other since kindergarten. There was no need to ask how someone's family is doing unless he's your close friend, because chances are the Forks' gossipers have already told you.
That's just how we stayed connected. It was half-sickening and half-convenient. It depends, mostly.
About a week before school ended, finals came up. For exempted seniors who got a 90 or higher, school was officially over. Everyone was giddy for summer to come.
"Party at me house, everyone!" Tanya Denalis, Kate and Irina's sister, shouted to the classroom before our English final was given out. "Everyone is invited! Starts at nine!"
"There's plenty of time for that later, Miss Denalis," Mrs. Lafferty scolded, but even she could not hide her smile.
"Be there," Tanya hastily added before she picked up her pencil and saw the paper.
I knew how she felt. The test had been generous on essay questions and readings. My hand cramped several times, it was a bother really.
"Have a good vacation, everyone," the teacher called out to us as the bell rang.
Because it was a half day, that meant no after school clubs; the buses were going to be filled. I skipped going to my locker and immediately went to my bus.
I took the second from the front seat. Of course I sat on the supposed two-seater. Really it would be a one-seater if the bus were used for commercial purposes, but here at school it was considered roomy enough for two squished teens.
Ben Cheney sat next to me. Bless him and Angela, I always say.
"Hi, Bella."
"Hey Ben."
"Did you have your Chem final yet?"
"No, I have it tomorrow."
We both smiled at the prospect of tomorrow.
The driver stopped at Reservation Rd.
He stood up before he got carried by the current of students starting from the back. "Well see'ya."
"Bye," I waved. The students next to me gave me weird looks. I turned my head away, rolled my eyes, and started thinking about home.
I had to walk five minutes from my stop to my house. Bleeker Avenue was one of the longest here in Forks, and I was somewhere in the middle of it.
As I trudged on the slight uphill, a black coupe passed by.
I looked at the driver, but it was the mischievous passenger who grinned when he saw me. He reached for the steering wheel and pressed two beeps.
Emmett Cullen, Edward's older brother, shoved him with his elbow and sped along.
I shook my head. "One more day 'til summer. One more day..."
THREE: PLAYIN' AND HAVING FUN
- - -
The first day of summer vacation marked my first day as an employee of Newton's Outfitters. I had begged, repeatedly, that I work at Dunkin' Donuts or even The Bagel Place, but Charlie said they were too far. I had my permit, but no license yet, so Charlie was the one who had to drive me to and from work everyday except Sundays. He thought a fifteen-minute drive was not worth being paid on a part-time basis.
"'Sides," he reasoned, "it'll be good to stay in the know about Forks."
I scoffed. "That's exactly what I wanna do the whole summer. Stay in touch with Forks." I saw his face and quickly apologized. "I didn't mean it like that."
Charlie smiled. "I know, kid. You grow up each day." He slapped on my orange Newton's Outfitters cap. "Now go make some money."
I grumbled and got out of the car to get ready for my first day of work.
First customer—Charlie Swan, a forty-three year old who was wearing his police uniform and a beaming smile.
"Dad," I said. "Wasn't the picture from the window enough?"
He shook his head. "I'd like to buy some fish bait, please," he indicated seriously.
"You want me to open the can of worms." I frowned.
Charlie snapped a photo of my handing him his purchase. He also gave me a ten dollar tip.
"Thank you for coming, have a nice day," I called to him merrily.
When he left and my real work began, it was pretty boring. The only person with me was Mrs. Karen Newton, Mike Newton's mom. She was really conscious of her appearance. She'd been wearing make-up everyday since I could remember. Her earrings were dangly and her blond hair was springy with curls.
Mrs. Newton had that patronizing habit of calling me honey.
"Honey, can you clean up on aisle five? Some gentleman broke one of the lanterns," she ordered one fine day.
I had been on break, eating a sandwich, and when I'd returned there was a pile of broken glass and the lamp frame.
"I'll get right on it," I called as I went over the storage closet. Ah, it was annoying when people did those kinds of things. But who was I to talk? I broke things all the time—granted they were usually a bone or a sprain in my body.
I could hear the perpetrator apologizing. "I'm sorry, I'll pay for it. I was just getting a call... I—"
Mrs. Newton interrupted, "Don't worry about it, dear, it happens to all of us. No need to pay for somethin' you're not gettin', 'kay?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Newton." The voice could only belong to you-know-who. No, not Voldemort, but you-know-who.
I veered off to the closet and got out the yellow cart of janitorial stuff. That thing came in handy, let me tell you. It had wipes, disinfectants, a broom, mop, a bucket, possibly anything you'd need to clean. It also had a mini vacuum for small clutter left by kids snacking.
"Now go along Edward, Isabella here is gonna take care of it," Mrs. Newton reassured the customer.
I imagined before I actually saw his smirk when he asked, curiously, "Isabella Swan works here?"
Stunned, I slowed my pushing of the cart to a halt.
Mrs. Newton, however, alighted when she sparked an interest in the young boy. "Yes, yes! Started here a couple of days ago." She pointed a finger. "Bella, honey, come here and clean up."
"Coming." Finally I turned to the aisle and saw Edward standing next to the shorter Mrs. Newton.
"Ah... Isabella. How nice to see you here."
The taunt in his tone was apparent, as it caused Mrs. Newton to drop her jaw open and take on a surprised look.
"I'll be at the cashier okay, honey?" she said.
I nodded.
"Does Mike work here with you?" was his first question.
"No." I shuddered. I had considered that alarming possibility, but after being assured by both parents that Mike was not going to work this summer, I applied for a job here.
I swept all the broken pieces and carefully flung them at the plastic bag. He just stood there and began to snicker.
I rolled my eyes. I was not the one who was stupid enough to drop a lamp. I will not be immature. I will not get riled up by this bastard.
His eyes crinkled. He really was laughing at me! Sick, boastful, son of a—
"I really don't mean to laugh, but it's just you remind me so much of your mom!" He bit his lip. "Pfff—mmph."
"What the hell is your problem with my mom, Cullen?" I said. "If you care so much why don't you go to Arizona."
Hearing those words out of my mouth made me want to hit myself. Even I thought bad of my own mother.
That made him angry, but he should have known. "Listen, Swan, you know exactly why this town curses about your mother like they do—"
"You mean like 'we do,' right?" I snapped."Out of all of them, you're probably the worst one."
With a flick of his wrist, Edward knocked down another lantern. Only this time it was bigger, and had colored glass that shattered completely when broken.
He seemed shocked by what he'd done, and for a second he looked sorry. Mrs. Newton had stepped out for a bit, probably out for a smoke.
"Renee Dwyer—or whomever it is she's married to now—has scammed possibly every businessman affiliated with my dad." I didn't have the heart to tell him that there was an incident with a Mrs. Hannah Gregoy, which, after being super friends with Renee, my mom got a private boat docked in New Jersey.
Edward was still seething. "And you know what happened? I lost him. I lost my dad because some stupid bitch broke his heart."
I was fed up, but I was pissed Edward would do this while I was at work.
"So what are you gonna do about it; talk down on me in front of everyone else?" I snatched the broom to start cleaning up the second lantern. "I don't really care what you think, I dunno why you haven't grasped that concept yet."
He walked in front of me, and believe me it was hard not to back away. "You ruined my family. I just think you should be continually reminded how shitty your life's gonna be while your here."
"Believe me, I can see just how shitty life is from right here." I stared into his green eyes, equaling my rage with his.
I wanted to say I felt bad, because if I was Edward I too would hate Renee and feel the need to express that anger toward her daughter. Mr Edward Mason, Edward's real dad, had at one time been engaged to my mom, Renee. Edward was six, I was five years old. We pretended we were real siblings, but shortly after Renee had a change of heart and left. It had been a lucrative courtship, especially for my mom. Business at Mason Corp was doing excellent, and my mom was reaping all the benefits.
But it was not my fault. I don't know how else to tell him that. I mean, didn't Carlisle Cullen, Edward's godfather, eventually raise him along with his own son Emmett? Life turned out great for him either way, in my opinion.
Oh, and speaking of the situation, the annoying Cullen had stood there, glaring at me.
"What happened now?" Mrs. Newton's voice broke into my thoughts.
Edward blinked and backed off. "Nothing, Mrs. Newton, Bella just knocked off this lamp while cleaning that one; you okay, Bella?"
"Just fine," I said icily.
Mrs Newton tsked. "Well just be careful next time, 'kay Hun?" She turned to Edward. "Perhaps I can help you find what you're looking for?"
"Oh, right, yeah," he said, laughing self-consciously. "My mom wanted to buy something for her garden. I forget what it's called..."
"Oh," Mrs Newton looked at him with pity. "Could it be a shovel? Some azaleas? We have those at the back, I'll go get some and show you. Be right back."
Edward stood there and sighed.
"You came to a sport store for gardening stuff?" I asked blankly. "You know a flower shop is right down the street."
"Shut up," he muttered, annoyed. He then decided to just leave without a single word.
Mrs Newton came back, carrying a tray of flower pots. "Well, let's see here... Wait, where is he?" I told her, and she went back outside.
Can you believe that the very next morning, Mike Newton started to work at the store?
"Eddie told me you were working here, so why not, eh?" he teased. "It'll be an easy job; you do the work, I get some pay, Mom and Dad love me, yadda yadda yadda."
I wasted no time telling this to his mom. After they had a talk, Mike's confidence decreased to a less delusional level. He wasn't very good at cleaning up or stacking things, but at least his remarks weren't that bad. People like Mike couldn't really function without an audience.
So, fortunately for him, his friends came to visit one afternoon. I'd been working for a week.
Jasper Hale was first. "Hey, Bella." He smiled, and he actually looked friendly.
"Hi," I answered, a little confused.
Tyler came in next, looking happy as usual. "Mike, guess what? Edward got a car! It's right outside look."
"Whoa." We all looked at the shiny Volvo parked outside.
"He's just gonna buy some ice cream," Tyler explained, because we saw Edward walking the opposite direction, counting some dollar bills.
I shook my head. Why the hell was I looking on? I got back to arranging a stack of fliers about an upcoming concert.
"So he drove you guys here?" Mike asked.
"Yeah dude we went over eighty!" Tyler told him. He sat on the counter, and then he turned his head to face me. "Hey, Isabelle."
"Bella," I corrected him.
Tyler grinned. "What about Belle? Like in Beauty and the Beast. Belle, Belle, Bella!" he sang.
Tyler Crowley had starred in two school musicals, one of them the adaptation of, yes, Beauty and the Beast. He was the best male singer and dancer in school, and also one of the most melodramatic ones. Histrionics went great with his personality.
Jasper laughed. "Cut it out, Crowley." His phone rang. When he looked at the screen, his eyes widened in alarm.
"Ooooh!" Mike and Tyler shouted. Jasper blushed.
Tyler snatched his cell phone and answered it for him. "Hey, Alice! Tyler Crowley here. Jasper is right now hanging with me and this other girl Bella." He grinned at me, while also dodging Jasper's frantic fist. "You remember her, right? Really pretty, long brown hair, likes to get good grades."
Tyler nodded his head, listening to what Alice said.
"Oh, what is he doing with Bella?" he repeated her, I'm guessing. He raised his eyebrow up and down. "Well let me tell you."
I protested by trying myself to get the phone. "Don't!" I said the same time Jasper did.
"He just asked her to a movie—mmmpf!" Jasper had tackled Tyler from the counter, while I conveniently caught the phone in my hand. I looked at it for a second, and then blinked.
"What?" The voice demanded when I put the phone in my ear. Mike was laughing so hard he was sitting on the floor, and the other two were still rolling along, being boys.
"Alice? This is Bella," I said, becoming nervous all of a sudden.
"Bella, hi!" Alice's voice was enthusiastic and not mean at all, but she was a bit fast. "How are you? Are you with Tyler and Jasper?—Wait, Tyler's lying isn't he? Where are you guys?"
"I work at Newton's Outfitters," I told her. "They just stopped by for Mike, so don't worry about anything."
"Oh, no I'm not worried about that," she said breezily. "We're gonna watch a movie tonight, and I just wanted to ask which he wanted to see. Turns out Rosalie and Emmett are coming too." She sighed. "Then after they wanted to come, suddenly Lauren and Tyler wanted in too."
"Oh," I offered as a comment. Jasper was pulling on Tyler's hair, which was so short he was using his fingertips to do it. Tyler yelled, "Ow!"
Alice was still speaking on the phone. "—so you should come with us."
"What?"
"Seriously! Come with us! I'll have Emmett drive us there," she insisted.
Um, was she trying to throw me into the sharks?
"No, thank you."
"Come on, Bella. It's just a movie! Jasper and I'll be with you the whole time." Alice, like everyone in school, knew about my unpopularity.
"That's really nice, Alice, but really, I couldn't—"
"Okay, here's the deal," she firmly said. "I stay by your side, and no one's gonna bother you, and you'll have fun!"
I was not even close to considering it, but she was so nice about it.
"Maybe next time," I said.
"Maybe next time what?" Edward asked from behind me. I quickly turned around and there he was, staring at what was happening.
"Who's that?" Alice asked.
"Ooh, look: Edward's got ice cream!" Tyler yelled to Jasper, who was contemplating on letting go.
"Maybe next time what?" Edward repeated. He was holding a plastic bag on one hand and his wallet on the other. "Is that Jasper's phone?"
"Edward's there too?" Alice sounded surprised. "He said he got his car..." she mumbled.
Sometimes when you don't talk as much as a regular person does, talking to two people at once can be overwhelming.
"Um, yeah, this is Jasper's phone, which I should give back," I decided, but to Alice I said, "And yes, Edward's here. Did you want to talk to him?"
Alice giggled. "Wow, I wish I were there right now."
I laughed too. How weird; I wished I was anywhere but here.
Edward looked on with amusement, as I tried to hand Jasper his phone. Jasper gave Tyler one last small kick on the foot, smiled, and talked to Alice for a while.
"Maybe next time what?" Edward said.
"What?"
"Why were you talking to Alice?" he asked instead.
"Oh, well, it just happened I guess," I said.
He seemed to find this interesting. He reached into the plastic and started tossing some Popsicles to his friends. He himself didn't eat one, though I was sure there was still something inside the bag. He placed an elbow lazily on the counter space in front of me.
Lovely. Newton's Outfitters was going to be their hangout spot now. I sat down on the stool, staring at the lazy afternoon. The sun almost setting, it cast long shadows on the dark trees and tall lamp posts.
"Edward, dude, how'd you get your dad to buy you a car?" Mike asked.
He shrugged. "Carlisle said it was fine. It was my birthday, and Emmett kept complaining about not having enough space."
Jasper snickered. "Enough space for my sister, that's what. You know Emmett's the reason why Rose broke up with Roy." He licked his chocolate Popsicle thoughtfully. "Hey Bella?" he suddenly asked.
They all looked at me.
"What," I said warily.
"Alice told me..." He scratched the back of his head. "She told me to tell you that, um..."
"What!" Edward demanded. He was furiously looking between Jasper and me.
"Dude, calm down," he said to Edward. Then to me, "She just told me to tell you that we're, um, picking you up at your house at eight."
My eyes widened. "But I, I told her—"
"'Maybe next time'?" Edward quoted. I glared.
Tyler hooted. "My, my, Bella's gonna hang with us now!" He stood up, ran over to me, and, even when I held my hands out and backed away, he scooped me from the chair and swung me around, as if I had come down a step from the fountain and we were singing show tunes about being young and free.
I gasped, but then I yelled, "Hey, what the hell?" when he kissed my cheek.
"Oh, Bella, you gotta loosen up," Tyler advised in a trilling voice. "The world is such a melancholy place without your smile."
From the very back of my mind, I wanted to comment.
Edward made a sickened sound. It sounded like eckh. "Well I'm going home. All I wanted was some ice cream."
Mike's eyes grew big. "Oh, okay, see 'ya guys," he called out. "Hey, any chance I can catch a ride with you to the movies tonight?"
A look was passed among the three. "Y-yeah, Edward'll pick you up," Tyler decided, gaining a painful nudge from Edward. "Ow! You'll be there, a'ight?"
Jasper waved at me. "We'll be at your house by eight. Don't worry about paying for anything." He saw my skepticism. "She said it," he muttered darkly.
For whatever reason, maybe it was Jasper's and Alice's friendliness, I agreed.
Edward grunted, then left for his car, followed by the others.
Mike and I were left alone for a few moments. He was blushing. "D'you think they really meant what they—"
He stopped talking when we heard the door rush open. It created a loud smack as it hit the wall and then swing back shut.
Edward's long strides took him to the counter in less than five seconds. He took something from the plastic bag he was still holding. "Here," he said stiffly. He placed it in front of me and left.
When he'd gotten in his car, he gave me one last look before backing out and driving away.
I looked at the Strawberry Shortcake Popsicle sitting on the counter. Huh. My favorite.
"Whoa," Mike said.
"You think he poisoned it?" I joked.
FOUR: FAKE BRAVERY
- - - -
Perhaps you'd want to know what happened at the movies? Well, by all means, read on. But I'd like to clarify that this is the same story, which centers on a slightly naive teen; the events that will occur are nothing short of fantastical for me, but maybe for some it's just another one of those movie nights.
By the time eight o' clock rolled in, I was sitting in the living room, chewing on my nails and wondering if it had been wise to wear my favorite pair of jeans and a top that Charlie said looked very "charming" on me. The shirt had a ribbon by the collar, which I tied, retied, tied again and again as the night progressed.
I saw a car pull up on the driveway. A short while later, Alice knocked. "Bella, we're here!"
I sighed. I opened the door. "Hi, Alice." Walking toward the car, it surprised me to see Edward's Volvo instead of a hulking Jeep.
Alice saw my inquisitive look. "Emmett and Rose are picking up Mike," she explained, opening the passenger door for me. "So Edward's all we've got!" She threw me an apologetic smile.
I sat at the back, with Jasper and Edward in front.
I think my seat was a worse choice than the front passenger seat because the mirror reflected directly into Edward's eyes.
Jasper said hi. I replied the same. Edward said nothing.
But Alice, however, did not let the awkwardness ruin my misery. "Bella, I really like that top. Which stores do you usually go to?"
"Um, usually I buy stuff online," I said. Truth is, I don't like shopping for clothes much.
Jasper's phone rang. "Um, okay? We'll meet you in a half hour then. Bye. Rose it's not my fault, okay? Bye." He snapped his phone shut and turned to Edward. "They're gonna be a bit late, Mike's still getting ready."
Edward laughed. "See? And that could've been me waiting for the douche." He looked at me, from the mirror of course. "Was Chief Swan still at work?" Edward actually liked my dad. Maybe it's because Charlie had always been intent on keeping me at his house, and away from the Masons', when Renee and Edward Mason had become involved.
I returned his gaze. "Yeah, he won't be home 'til twelve."
"So you could stay up late!" Alice rejoiced. "Good thing, too; there are about two good movies out there, now we can watch one and sneak into the other!"
Edward looked amused. "How do you know there are only two good movies? "
"Went on Rotten Tomatoes?" suggested Jasper.
Alice huffed. "You can tell by the commercials."
A few minutes later, we arrived. There were ten of us total, but we huddled in small groups. "Don't want to seem like freakin' elementary kids on a field trip," Rosalie muttered. She was wearing a bright red top and a black flowery skirt, both of which attracted a lot of male eyes. Emmett's hawk eyes glared every direction.
The theater wasn't packed, for some reason or another. It was just one of those days I guess, when everyone else was outside enjoying the breezy night. We were seated and the previews had come up.
Alice's eyes widened as the screen showed the trailer of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. "Oh my God," I saw her mouth. As promised, Alice was on my right, and Jasper was to my left. He didn't mind sitting next to the aisle, though I think he was annoyed he didn't sit next to Alice.
"Alice, it doesn't come out 'til next week. Chill," Jasper teased. She giggled and sipped on her soda. I had a feeling she did that to get his eyes on her lips, because Jasper's eyes were locked on her face the whole time.
Hmm. Quite uncomfortable I was.
"Jasper, want to switch seats?" I asked, finally, when the movie was about to show.
Without a word we changed seats. Across the aisle was Edward, but it wasn't like we needed to talk. I noticed we were both eating Butterfingers. But I didn't mention it.
The movie was disappointing. I almost fell asleep, but caught myself when the credits rolled in with really loud music.
"Alice, you were so wrong," Edward complained as we walked out. "That was the most horrible movie I've ever seen. I think the puke in my throat's the only thing that kept me awake."
"Don't blame me if you can't appreciate some light romantic comedy," Alice said. She and Jasper were holding hands. "I thought it was okay."
I raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything. Jasper was smiling.
Edward scowled at the sight of them. "That's because you and Jasper weren't paying attention to the movie—which I wasted eight dollars on."
"Oh, cry me a river, big baby," Alice muttered. Her face brightened as she lead us to another theatre. "Ready to go see the next one?"
Judging from the movie poster, the movie looked like it was going to be equally fluffy as the previous we'd just watched. My nose squinched.
"Er, Alice, I think I'm just gonna..." I didn't want to flat out refuse, but I really wanted to. Luckily, Edward spoke his opinion.
"No," he firmly said. "I'd rather just walk around in the mall and wait 'til you finish watching."
At this Jasper seemed to have difficulty with. "Come on, Edward, just one more movie."
"Pssh, you guys can just flirt among yourselves; I'm not gonna be there if it involves watching this romantic crap." He waved over the theatre, which was steadily being occupied. He looked at my face. "Even Bella doesn't want to."
We were all blushing by then, Alice, Jasper, and I. Alice and Jasper because their intentions were so obvious, while I because my disinterest showed too much.
Alice sighed. "Well, if you guys don't want to watch this, you can go just... hang out I guess. Jasper and I are going in." Still holding hands, they disappeared with the other couples entering. A little while later we saw Rosalie and Emmett, followed by Lauren and Tyler, go inside the theater.
God only knows exactly if any of them actually watched the movie, but all I know is that about two months later, Lauren was fighting off rumors of having an abortion.
Presently, though, Edward and I walked through the movie theater to check out the movies.
"Honestly," Edward said, as if he was annoyed, "what do you want to do?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Don't really know. I guess I could look at the shops." Actually, all I wanted to do was stay at Barnes and Noble all night, maybe have a Starbuck's, maybe buy a CD, and definitely get some books.
He still looked annoyed, which was fine with me.
"I'll go with you then," he said.
Our walk to the mall, which was at the next building, was filled with uncomfortable silence. For one thing, I had a nagging urge to yell, What the hell are we doing, walking together like we have to? And for another thing, no one else was with us. I think the latter unnerved me more and made me cautious, because how did I know if he was going to hurl insults at me any second.
"Do you want to go to Barnes and Noble?" Edward asked as we passed it now. He held the door open.
"OK."
"OK good." He followed me in.
He left me alone while I browsed through the Fiction & Literature aisles, only to come back with two grande Frappuccinos.
He handed me one, which had Bella markered on the side. "It's caramel." He raised his cup and sipped. "Or you could have mine; it's mocha."
I preferred mocha, but I wasn't going to tell him that. "You didn't have to get me one." I had yet to take the cup.
"I didn't poison it, if that's what you're thinking."
"No, I wasn't thinking that. I just thought that I could have gotten one for myself."
"So you'd rather I drink them both and get hyper on all the caffeine?"
I took the Caramel Frap. "You just didn't have to, that's all." I twirled the straw around as much as I can to mix the whipped cream in. I took a sip. "Thank you," I said.
We stood there for about a minute, just staring at the ground or at our drinks. A couple of slurps here and there, but mainly silence.
"OK, I gotta know," I said. "Why are you being so," I thought of the word, "well, not exactly nice, but...nice. Y'know?" Gosh for an A student I really had a way with words.
He looked down. He twirled the green straw in his drink, just like I had earlier. "It's not really a big deal; I can be nice to you if I want to."
"Isn't it weird for you, though? I'm just curious, I guess, why you'd go out of your way to act civil towards me."
He laughed. "I don't know? This whole situation's weird, but I'll just go along with it. I have a feeling Alice did this on purpose anyway."
"Alice? What do you mean?"
He then told me his theory that Alice, the devil plotter she is, had deliberately chosen a crappy movie so he and I would beg to leave and end up exactly to where we were.
My eyebrows furrowed. "Here as in drinking frappuccinos? Or here as in talking to each other. If it's the first then I gotta say kudos to Alice, if it's the second, well—things could've been worse."
Edward smirked. "I mean here as in I get a chance to apologize so we'd actually get along next year." He looked ready to say more.
"Are you serious?" I said, skeptical. "I'm sorry, I mean I'm all for forgiving and forgetting for the sake of tonight, but for next year?"
"Why not? It'll make things easier; I ignore you, you ignore me—which was basically all you did to me the whole year."
"Is that why you bought me the ice cream the other day? So I'd forgive you?" I knew that hadn't been poisoned for a reason.
"Bella, you don't have to forgive me; I'm just telling you I'm done, and I'm sorry, but most of all I'm done acting so...immaturely. That must've been hell for you."
I gritted my teeth. "Not so hellish for me," I lied.
"Don't pretend you weren't hurt by the things I said," he said softly.
"Isn't that what the victim usually does to fake bravery?" I responded angrily. "Pretend that the bully didn't affect her like he wanted to?" Turning my back on him, I gripped on the frappuccino tighter and stomped my way across another aisle. On second thought, I left the cup on one of the bookshelves and continued walking to other aisles.
So maybe I was right. He had planned on embarrassing me, but in a different way, a much prideful way.
The Kids' section was painted bright colors, mainly yellow. It had benches next to tables that contained trains you could assemble and roll in the tracks. I sat on an empty, rainbow-colored chair and focused on suppressing my anger, because soon I would realize how embarrassed I was, and that had a knack for turning my eyes very watery.
I sat there for a while, ignoring the kids' voices that begged their moms to buy them whatever toys were in Barnes and Noble. It must've been almost an hour when Alice came to tell me that we were going home. This time Rosalie and Emmett drove to my house.
- - - -
The next day I sulked at work. Mike was especially painful that day because according to him, Jess had not stopped gushing about Edward Cullen when he had dropped both of them at their respective houses.
"Where did you go?" Mike complained. "Did he take you anywhere? Did you guys, like, do something?" He studied my face. "Is that why he looked so depressed?"
"Mike, we stayed at the mall, we didn't do anything," I kept insisting.
"He told me he tried to be nice," he muttered.
What's it to you, anyway? I wanted to yell. "Er, to me, he seemed kinda like he was forcing himself to be polite." It was the truth. I thought his whole attitude had been clipped and stiff, borderline uneasy. Edward Cullen was never uneasy, as far as I remembered. The real him could have never acted like so toward me.
The door swung open, allowing our first customer of the day in.
I gave Mike a look that told him I was not going to talk about this any longer. He was miffed, but did continued thinking the situation silently.
I took a deep breath, glad that I felt like everything was settling down. I wasn't sure if I'd ever do anything like that with Alice and her friends, but at the time I really hoped not. I got to appreciate how being by my lonesome self really was an easier routine.