The Twilight Twenty-Five
thetwilight25 dot com
Prompt: 01.Ancient
Main Character: Bella/Edward
Rating: T
Word Count: 499
Beta: PerryMaxed Author's Note: She saved this piece from the weird with her honesty. That's why I love her.
"Don't do this," Mike says.
"Don't do this? You did this. Not me. I'm done." I keep walking, getting closer to the crosswalk. I think about pushing him into traffic.
"You can't be done, babe, we're meant to be."
"No, we're not."
"But we're so good together."
We're not good together. Not at all. He only liked me because I went to each and every one of his basketball games, and I never complained about it.
I ignore him and stop abruptly at the light. I breathe in and out, trying to keep my cool while waiting.
"Give me another chance. Let's go out Friday."
"We were supposed to go out last Friday, but you were busy playing a pickup game. You guys all probably sat around after and cleaned your precious basketball shoes. You pay more attention to your shoes than you do to me!"
"Here," he bends awkwardly to remove his shoe, then hands it to me, "I don't even need it. All I need is you."
I give him a smile and nod toward his other shoe.
He hands it to me.
I throw them both into the intersection.
"Bella! What the hell?"
"We're done. Ancient history." The light turns green, and I start into the crosswalk.
When I reach the other side I stop, turn, and watch as Mike hustles into the street trying to collect his shoes. I hope he gets holes in his socks. I chuckle and keep walking toward school.
"What was that about?" Edward asks, catching up to me.
"He's an idiot."
"And what else is new?"
"I'm feeling violent today," I say, smiling.
"Most excellent. But why the shoes?"
"Because he liked them more than me."
"They were Nikes," he says with disdain.
"I know." I glance down at his footwear. Purple Converse. I grin.
"You're not touching my shoes. I love you, but no."
"But no? I would never throw your shoes in the street. One, they're awesome."
"I know."
"And, two, I know you love me more than your shoes."
"You have no idea, girl, no idea." He folds me under his arm and sighs against my hair.
"Hey!"
"What?"
"I smell sweets! Did you eat your Pop-Tart already?" Every morning with the brown sugar Pop-Tart. He always shares.
"I was hungry." He shrugs.
"Hand mine over."
He does, but the anxious look in his eyes tells me he still wants more. I split it in two and cram his half in his mouth.
"Don't say I don't love you more than my morning Pop-Tart. Ever."
"I von't."
We make it to the double doors of McKinnon High. He opens one wide and ushers me inside.
"Maybe we should do something about all this love between us," he says.
"Like go to IHOP with it and skip English?"
"You're my dream girl."
"I know," I say and haul Edward out of school by the hand. We pass Mike on the way, his shredded shoes dangling at his side.