Summary.
Bella Swan's freshman year in college is full of new experiences and new faces. One of those faces is Edward Cullen, the beautiful yet indecisive junior who's sister is Bella's roommate. Can she get past the brutal first stage of awkwardness and shaky trust with the bronze-haired boy, or will her sheltered past prevent her from moving forward? AU, all-human.
-- -- --
Check Yes, Juliet
by The Volvo
"God, Rose. Cheer up, will you?"
I shook my head as she bounced out of the car before I'd even put it in park. The car – my car – had been part of my 'graduation package,' a gift from my parents and my grandmother on Renee's side. It was a borderline beater, but they'd promised that in Chicago, I probably wouldn't need it all that much anyway. And though gas had taken several days and an absolute fortune to drive from Forks to Chicago (Rose had picked up some of the tab despite my disapproval), it felt nice to know I had my own car, even if it wasn't my gas-guzzling Chevy.
Rosalie poked her head, blonde curls bouncing in anticipation, through the window she'd forgotten to roll up – a counteractant to the lack of air conditioning in the middle of Illinois in September. She stuck her tongue out before adopting a faux mask of tragedy.
"How ever shall I survive without you, my anti-social, introverted friend?" She cocked an eyebrow at me before skipping to the rear of the car and banging a fist on the trunk.
"How, indeed," I muttered, before reaching across the car to roll up her window. As I climbed out of the car, a silver flash of vehicle whizzed past, just a foot from taking off my open door, to assume one of the spots closer to the dorms. Glaring at the offending car, I shut the door of my Sentra and joined Rosalie at the trunk. She was twisting a golden tress between her fingers and staring at the vehicle.
"Someone in a hurry?" she mumbled while I unlocked the trunk and began unloading my few possessions. It wouldn't take more than one trip to get everything upstairs.
I glanced over the top of my car and was able to identify the maker of the car. "Mr. Volvo's probably some impatient tightwad all jacked up on seniority and it's perks." I smiled at Rose. "Grab a tote."
All of my personal effects had been stuffed away in three plastic totes – the kind used to store Christmas decorations – and a medium-sized duffel bag. Rosalie eyes the collection and grimaced.
"Honestly, Bella. How do you this way?" She looked at me, straight nose wrinkled. Rosalie, whose closet was the size of my bedroom back home.
I smiled. "Happily."
She stuck her tongue out at me again before picking up one of the totes and slinging the duffel bag over her shoulder – she was surprisingly agile and strong for her tall slender frame. I claimed the other two, slightly smaller totes and my guitar case, which was graffiti-ed with stickers from my favorite bands – there were classics like the Stones, Def Leppard, AC DC, and Joan Jett, plus my contemporary faves: Fall Out Boy, Boys Like Girls, Panic At The Disco. . . even a Jonas Brothers sticker. My guilty pleasure. Rose had snorted over my initial squeal of delight when I'd received it, but I slapped it on my case with dignity. It took guts, as an eighteen year old girl, to own up to being a Jo Bros fan.
We finally reached the dorm building after what felt like an uphill battle across perfectly flat pavement. My arms were threatening to fall off at the shoulders before we even reached the front door.
Fortunately when we did, some random guy – an upperclassmen, no doubt – took pity on us. He must have seen me eyeing the handle and correctly assumed that I'd been mentally calculating just how high I'd have to hitch my foot up to get it around tha handle to yank it open without having to put down my burden, for he opened it with a grin and held it for me and Rosalie.
I graced him with a grateful smiled, while he gifted Rosalie with a wink. She rolled her eyes when we were past him.
Rosalie was a woman in her own league. She'd been gifted by the genetic gods in the most gracious of ways; she was tall and lean, with long legs and arms that looked elegant on her, while they might have come off as awkward and irregular on anyone else. These were balanced off with a long, curvy torso, toned to perfection. Her skin was a golden anomaly for our small town of Forks, where sunlight was a rarity, as well as a tanning bed; her natural tan was a gift that was coupled with long, naturally wavy golden-blonde tresses, flowing easily to her mid-back. She was gorgeous, compared to my pale plain looks; she could easily have any man she wanted, and many expressed interest – at least those who weren't too intimidated by her beauty. But Rosalie blew them off with a roll of her eyes or wave of her hand. She wasn't interested in a relationship unless it meant something, and therefore she'd remained single her whole life. One night stands and sleeping around for the sake of saying she had was for lesser minds, not Rosalie.
However, she'd received a lot of backlash for her decision while we were in school. Being so beautiful and intimidating, Rosalie had been the one girl other girls looked up to, feared, and hated. She spawned jealousy everywhere she went. Most girls never took the chance to get to know her, and therefore our friends were limited pretty much to each other. But Rosalie was, in my opinion, too mice and sweet not to be friends with. She'd been my sole confidante since eighth grade, when she'd moved to Forks, Washington. She was my first choice when deciding who would escort me to college, and therefore she was the one walking beside me, helping me carry my belongings to my dorm.
We didn't even contemplate taking the stairs once we'd reached the lobby, especially since there was an open lift straight ahead of us with plenty of space. The doors started to close so Rosalie, being her normal social self, shouted in a loud, clear voice, "Hold the elevator!"
A pale hand appeared between the door and its destination, and it bounced back to it's fully open position. Internally breathing a sigh of relief and hauling my totes into the lift, I murmured, "Thank you," and went to press the number three, which was already lit. I leaned against the wall and looked down; my shy tendencies were telling me to avoid eye contact with the stranger, so I obeyed. I focused on the white lid of the top tote, hoping the stranger didn't start talking to me.
I heard Rosalie clear her throat. I looked up, and saw her nod slightly towards our company, so I glanced at him for the first time.
He was beautiful, there was no other way to describe him. Pale and tall and perfect. His bright bronze hair was unruly and untidy and screamed at me to run my fingers through it; I was glad that my hands were full so that they wouldn't reach out of their own accord and do just that.
He looked at me and, as if he could read my thoughts about how much of a temptation his haired poised, chuckled. His emerald green eyes sparkled with laughter, and my guitar case, the strap of which had slowly been sliding down my arm without my realizing it, clattered against the wall behind me. My eyes wide, I retrieved it and hiked it back up onto my shoulder. Rosalie coughed to hide her laughter, but my eyes automatically went to the beautiful bronze-haired boy to see his reaction.
Whatever reaction he'd had, it was gone now; his eyes were on a small, sleek phone that he was typing on rapidly with his thumbs. My eyes traveled back up to his face, lingering unabashedly on his features.
His nose was straight, cheekbones angular, his lips full and soft-looking. And his hair. . . so tempting. . .
I hadn't even noticed he'd caught my gaze until I found I was drowning in a sea of green. He cleared his throat, and I surfaced; I looked down, embarrassed. I could feel a slow blush crawl across my face, staining my cheeks with heat. He smiled, a motion I saw out of the corner of my eye, and then, thankfully, the elevator doors clanged open.
Rose and I hauled my belongings out of the elevator before Bronze-Haired Boy could exit; we began searching the long hallway for my room, number three forty-seven. Despite the excess of noise and movement – people were throwing open dorm room doors, laughing, chatting, and in the background, low music pulsed – we found my room. To my dismay, the door was closed, unlike a majority of the others. Resigned, I began to shift my totes from one arm to the other to put them down and knock on the door. Before I bent my knees to set them on the floor, a pale hand shot out above my left shoulder and struck the door with a loud, rhythmic rap.
Shocked, I turned and came face-to-face with Beautiful Bronze-Haired Boy; he was only inches away from my left cheek now. He smiled, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, before calling out loudly.
"Al, open the door."
I heard a bang from within, before the rattling of the chain lock and the door flew inwards. Holding it open was a petite, frail-looking girl with spiky black hair and pale skin. Her eyes were a pretty teal color, leaning a little on the green side, and I could tell that she was related to Beautiful Bronze-Haired Boy simply from the fantastic looks, for she was just as beautiful as he. She glared at him ferociously, her eyes menacing, like a roiling, violent sea.
"Don't call me Al ever again, Ed."
He grimaced at her, before jutting his chin out in my direction a little and turning his back. "Meet your new roommate."
The small girl glowered at his back over my shoulder for a moment, before turning to me with a brilliant smile. "So sorry about him," she said, her voice loud and clear and melodious. "Hi, I'm Alice. Come on in."
Rose nudged me in the back, giving me the initial push to get through the doorway. I introduced myself on the way in, my voice quiet and shy. "Bella Swan," I said simply, and then felt stupid for some reason. Perhaps it was because I realized, once I stepped into my new dorm, that I was swimming way out of my depth.
Once inside, it was apparent that Alice was different; for being so small, she had big taste. The light walls on her side of the room were plastered in elegant and decorative frames, a lot of them stainless steel and other reflective metals; all of the pictures featured her and either a friend or family member; I spotted Bronze-Haired Boy in a few of them.
The rest of the room was decorated in deep purple and black. With the default white carpet and glimmering frames, it was very pretty. It seemed my roommate had a designer's touch. I studied her clothes then, and was embarrassed.
Her outfit screamed money. Her skinny-fit jeans tucked neatly into expensive stiletto boots; the collared shirt crisp under the vest that tucked in around her waist. I could practically feel my quarter-sleeve Henley and worn-in jeans crying in discontent. I prayed she'd take pity on my small collection of slip-on sneakers and my Doc Martin's.
I ducked my head, and set down my totes. Rosalie eyed the room around us. I could see the pure lust in her eyes; Rosalie was going to a design institute in New York. I could tell she was jealous of me, so fashion-inept, for having such an stylish roomie. She cocked an eyebrow at me. Right.
"Uh, Alice, this is my friend, Rosalie."
Rosalie gracefully dropped her load on the floor near the vacant bed and held out a hand, which Alice shook; Alice's hand in Rose's was a stark contrast of smooth white. The petite girl – absolutely pixie-like – beamed up at Rosalie with a peppy smile, which Rosalie returned in half. Rosalie was never peppy. Rosalie was understated elegance.
"Nice to meet you, Alice," Rose cooed, her voice friendly. She eyed the room, that envious gleam apparent in her blue eyes. "You have great taste. Perhaps you'll be able to instill a sense of style in Bella."
Alice grinned, and then gave my appearance a once-over. Oh, crap. "Well, Bella's done alright on her own. . ." Her eyes raked over the Henley and jeans, apparently satisfied, but froze on my slip-on Vans. "Oh, no. Bella, dear," she said, clucking her tongue as she smiled at me patronizingly. "Slip-ons? Darling, those simply will not do."
Alice ducked out of sight and pulled on a doorknob at the foot of her bed. Rosalie chortled at me with a raised eyebrow as if to say, "I told you so." Which she had. Several times.
Alice was heard moving things around in the joint closet I would be sharing with her. I craned my neck to peer in after her and gasped, my jaw successfully dropping halfway between it's current location and the floor. Alice had crammed half of a Macy's and an entire D&G boutique into half of the closet space, sleeves and pant legs and skirts and collars sticking out a different angles in her attempt to make it all fit. She definitely had enough options stuffed in there to have a different outfit every day of the week up until April Fool's, maybe longer. On the shelf above the hanging bar were twenty-five pairs of high heels, arranged by color, apparently. On the floor beneath her personalized department store were lined at least thirty-five pairs of ballet flats, and two lonely-looking pairs of designer tennis shoes.
Had I really gotten the right room? Surely they wouldn't room me with Miss Millionaire Diva, unless it was some kind of joke. Haha, let's shove lowly Bella Swan from Forks in with Alice, Little Miss Trust Fund. Ha, ha.
Alice popped out of the closet with a pair of black flats in her hand. "Size eight, right?"
I nodded, confounded, and Alice shoved the shoes towards me. "Put those on."
I took the shoes from her slowly, glaring at Rose, who was snickering silently behind her hand. When Alice turned to smile at her, Rosalie straightened out her expression. "I've been trying to get her out of those Vans for two years."
I sighed and leaned down to tug off my beloved slip-ons and socks, to be replaced with the seemingly new patent flats. They were shiny and stiff.
I raised an eyebrow and smiled meekly once I stood up straight again. "Good thing we're the same size," I muttered. Alice waved her hand and began rearranging her shoes to fill the void left behind by the flats I was wearing.
"I'm a seven. I just keep extra pairs in different sizes around in case of emergencies." The way she smiled at me made it apparent that my shoe situation had officially been classified as catastrophic. I laughed once and was gingerly placing my Vans on top of my duffel bag when someone cleared their throat.
All three of us girls glanced towards the doorway at the same moment. Two guys stood there; Bronze-Haired Boy was in the front, and behind him, a brooding, fair-skinned blond with his hands stuck in his pockets. Alice grinned at them and waved them in, jumping into introductions.
"Bella, Rosalie, this is my brother and his friend, Edward and Jasper, respectively." Even the way she spoke reminded me of the prim and proper billionaire families you saw on television and in movies.
Edward stepped forward. "We've met, actually," he said, grinning at me and then eyeing my guitar case as I blushed. He held a hand out for me to shake. Smiling back, embarrassed, I took it.
An electric bolt zinged up through my elbow and shoulder, a course of current that left my skin tingling. It wasn't like static electricity; it was like heat, strong and warm; like lightning, miniaturized and contained into a less-dangerous, just-as-intense shock. He pulled away with a raised eyebrow and chuckled, before turning to Rosalie and repeating the gesture, just minus the jolt. Jasper only nodded at each of us in turn, before glancing back up at Alice with intense hazel eyes.
"Are you ready, Allie?"
"You know, Jazz, maybe you and Edward should just go ahead. Bella just arrived, I really don't want to just leave her—"
"No," I interjected. "If you have plans already, don't worry about me. I'll have to take Rose to the hotel eventually anyways." I smiled at each of them. Edward raised a brow at me again, and Alice shook her head adamantly.
"No, Bella, I'm serious. How about you guys go ahead, have a guys' night out, and then we girls can figure something out. Maybe help you unpack and then we could go out to eat somewhere?" She looked at me with wide, hopeful eyes, an expression I couldn't say no to. I shrugged.
"I suppose, so long as Edward and Jasper don't mind leaving you behind. . .?" I glanced at them. Edward was watching me as I spoke, and when I met his gaze, he winked.
"I don't think we'll mind at all," he said. His voice was deep and musical. Enticing. "Come on, Jasper. Guys' night out." He shot the three of us a blinding smile before slipping out into the hall. "We'll be at Palino's if you need anything, Al." He chuckled as she flipped him off, and then disappeared down the hall. Alice rolled her eyes and glanced up at me.
"I love Edward, I do, but God help me, if he doesn't stop calling me Al, he'll wake up with a significantly shorter hair cut." Rosalie chuckled and Alice slid the door shut before clapping her hands together. "So. Let's unpack!"
Alice was a force of nature; she was always bubbly and giggly, with her moments of annoyance at her brother being her only weak moments. She bounced around the room helping Rose and I unpack, grimacing, like Rose had, at my lack of luggage and positively clapping with glee when she realized my seriously lacking wardrobe would mean her garments would have extra room to breathe.
"Good thing, too," she'd said, "because I was afraid some of them would wrinkle, and God knows you can't get wrinkles out of silk. Impossible to iron."
Rosalie had nodded along empathetically, while I pretended to understand.
We were done in record time, though I hadn't expected it to take long even without Alice's superior organizational abilities. It was not yet five o'clock when we had finished making my bed and setting out my few picture frames. I vaguely wondered how long Alice had taken to decorate her side of the room. I also wondered if she found my mismatched belongings distracting when compared to the vibe she'd created with her silver-and-purple theme. She didn't seem to mind, but I wouldn't put it past her. She was super serious about organizing and having things go just her way, as I'd found out when she'd moved to arrange my own shoes into colors. I found myself secretly diagnosing her with obsessive-compulsive disorder.
But Alice was sincere and kinder than anyone I'd encountered yet on my trek to Chicago, even including the overly helpful guy at the gas station when I'd had problems operating my brand-new credit card for the first time back in Washington – he just came off as creepy.
Alice plopped onto her satin duvet, crossing her legs Indian-style, and faced Rose and I, where we lounged on my surprisingly-comfortable bed. She raised an eyebrow at us before asking, "So what's on the agenda now?"
I pushed myself up, leaning back on my arms, while Rose flipped over on her stomach and propped her chin up on her fists. "What are the options?" I asked. In our unpacking efforts, Alice and I had bonded easily. Even Rose, the jealousy-inducing, loathsome beauty, was accepted by Alice. She was a warm, friendly person by nature, it seemed, and accepted us all with welcome arms. It didn't feel awkward to be discussing battle plans for a night out on Rose's and my first night in Chicago.
Alice scrunched up her face, thinking. She and Edward had grown up in Chicago, and therefore knew all the hotspots; they knew where we could go to have a good time without being carded, where to have a nice, fun meal with friends, and the best place to go for a quiet night out. Her face lit up.
"Why don't we go to Palino's? We could meet up with Jazz and Edward," she said, shrugging semi-flippantly. I was hesitant to agree; A, I didn't want to interrupt whatever their 'guys' night out' would entail, and B, Edward and Jasper were not Alice. Meaning I doubted I could get along so easily with them. The very thought of trying to strike up a conversation with one of them made me blush.
Rosalie, the traitor, agreed heartedly, and Alice bounded off her bed without waiting for my response. She qualified Rose's jeans-sandals-and-silky-tank outfit as party-ready, but furrowed a brow at my girl-next-door ensemble and shot me an apologetic glance.
"I'm sorry, Bella, but the Henley is begging to be retired for the night."
I couldn't find the time to argue; at lightning speed, Rose and Alice had me out of my comfortable, familiar shirt and into a black, sleeveless form-fitting sweater with a wide, loose turtleneck. Alice plopped a few silvery chains around my neck and twisted my hair into a loose, elegant curl at the back of my head, and before I could argue that I couldn't possibly wear her clothes, forced an expensive metal-studded leather tote into my hands and ordered me to transfer all my necessities – driver's license and other forms of ID, cell phone, credit card, any extra cash, and a tube of shimmery lip gloss she tossed my way – into it.
"Wow, Alice, I know we're roomies now and all, and we're going to become good friends—"
"Best friends," she interrupted, before shooting Rose an apologetic smile which Rose waved off.
"—But don't you think this is a little much? Letting me borrow expensive clothes when you barely know me?" I adjusted the sweater – it was riding up ever so slightly, the silky threads revealing a hint of my midriff just above my jeans. Alice locked the dorm room door behind us
"I trust you, Bella. And stop tugging, you'll stretch the fibers beyond repair."
I sighed and hitched the Balenciaga purse onto my shoulder before my hands fell to my sides. Rosalie giggled beside me. Traitor.
The rest of ride to the club – Alice had called Edward in the taxi on the way over to let him know we were coming (no asking permission, no question marks, Alice simply stated, "We're coming to Palino's, we'll be there in ten.") – had passed with Alice telling me different things about fashion and the latest trends. She warned me not to play with my necklaces unless I was flirting, which I doubted would happen. I was to hold my purse not on my shoulder, but in the crook of my elbow, bending my arm up and curling my hand in towards my chest so that it would stay in place – and then it was harder for anyone to pick through it on the streets. I was not to carry my phone unless I was actually using it, and to use it as little in public as was possible. To be on one's phone constantly was very Paris Hilton and "out of vogue since 2004, at the least," Alice had said. Rosalie had gawked at Alice as if she'd found her newest idol, the fashion-and-trend goddess to whom she would bow down to readily if it meant she was never placed in a "What Not To Wear" article.
"Trust me," Alice had said as we were getting out of the cab in front of Deuce and she'd seen the overwhelmed expression I was bearing. "No one dressed by me is ever silly-looking. You're in good hands, Bella."
Rosalie had muttered something that had sounded extraordinarily and frustratingly like, "Thank the gods."
Alice led the way into Palino's, smiling her way past the bouncer at the front door and getting us in just as easily. The club was different from what I'd expected; while I was anticipating a thudding, swirling light show with muted music, the club was instead a friendly, intimate little bar with a back corner dedicated to four wide-screen TV's, all tuned to the same football game. The walls were a dark red and the furnishings were mahogany and deep brown leather with brass; the back wall was lined with booths while tall round tables made up the rest of the seating contingent. Around the tables were bunched semi-mismatched barstools with plush leather cushions and tall, curved backs. Around the bottom of the tables were brass foot bars. It was a homey yet fashionable and efficient little place, apparently designed for college students.
Alice spotted her brother quickly; she didn't even pause as she breezed through the front door and headed towards the far corner in the front, farthest away from the televisions and the group of guys taking up the couches and armchairs there. His bronze hair stood out from the crowd of blondes and brunettes. So did his looks, but I tried not to focus on those.
We approached the table, around which Edward and Jasper had already assembled extra seats. Alice seated herself between Jasper and Edward, kissing Jasper on the cheek quickly and sisterly before boxing Edward upside the head jokingly. He grinned roguishly at her and chuckled. I hesitated, wanting badly to take the seat beside Edward for some reason, but worried about what might happen if we were to touch – I'd never believed that jolt we'd felt earlier was merely static buildup – and therefore took the seat beside Jasper, putting me directly across the table from Edward. Rosalie assumed the seat beside Edward with a slight smirk in my direction – whether she was teasing me because she somehow knew my desire to sit there or she was gloating because she had, I wasn't sure.
Edward nodded at us in hello, but Jasper instead turned to Alice and, with a gesture of his finger, they ducked their heads together and began talking amongst each other. They didn't resurface immediately, or even after a couple of minutes, and they were talking to quietly for even me, sitting just beside them, to hear their conversation. Edward caught my gaze and rolled his eyes theatrically.
"I'm sorry about them," he said, jutting his chin out towards his sister and friend. "Sometimes they don't understand the concept of being social. Would you girls like something to drink? My treat."
He picked up his empty glass and cocked a brow at me. Rosalie cleared her throat.
"Just a Coke, please," she said with a grateful nod. Edward acknowledged her request and then glanced towards me.
"Uh, same, please," I said quietly. He raised a brow at me, and then shrugged with a grin. "Two cokes. Coming right up." He winked at me – for the second time that night – before disappearing with his empty glass.
Edward was gone for two minutes before Alice and Jasper looked up again. Their shoulders were touching and both sets of hands were resting under the table rather than on top, which brought a grin to my lips. Were Alice and Jasper dating? Were they secretly dating? Or were they just naturally private about their relationship?
Either way, it was endearing in a let's-not-tell-anyone-about-this-until-we're-sure kind of way.
"I'm glad to see my dear brother is being gentlemanly for a change," Alice said with a grimace. She was staring at something behind me, so I turned; Edward was leaning against the bar in a very GQ kind of way, one elbow resting on the top of the bar, his torso angled back towards our table. Through the crowd it was difficult to pinpoint what he was looking at, but it looked like he was staring back out our table. . . and perhaps at me. Slightly disturbed, and even more flattered, I felt the blush crawl across my cheeks at the thought that I was the one he was staring at in the crowded club. My fingers instinctively went to my throat for a strand of hair to play with, and came up empty; Instead they curled around one of the long silver chains dangling from my neck and began to twirl it around my fingers. I turned around in my seat to face Alice and Rose, who were both eyeing the necklace wrapped around my fingers, and I remembered the rule. I dropped my hands to my lap immediately, my blush growing warmer. Damn.
Alice and Rose struck up a conversation about Rose's intentions for once she got to New York. Alice was an interior design enthusiast, but was studying psychology. She was envious of Rosalie's major and the internship she was now gloating about. I sat on the sidelines, listening silently, much like Jasper. Only Jasper's gaze remained on Alice's face as she spoke, as she listened. His eyes never left her. It was sweet, not creepy at all. It was apparent how much he cared for her, even if they weren't saying out loud exactly how much that was.
It kind of made me wonder; if I'd ever had a boyfriend, would he look at me that way?
A few moments later Edward reappeared, a tray laden with full glasses hoisted above his head in a moment of grace and dexterity. He swooped the tray down and set it on the table without spilling so much as a single drop, and began to distribute the beverages. He handed over Rosalie's and my Cokes, before placing a fruity-looking drink in front of Alice and a frothy beer in front of Jasper. The other foamy amber-colored drink was apparently his. He placed the tray on a spare table behind him and raised his glass.
"I propose a toast," he started ominously; we all joined him in raising our glasses somewhat tentatively, and he chuckled. "To new potential friends. Welcome to Chicago, Bella. Hope you enjoy the stay."
The glasses all clanged together quietly and I smiled sheepishly. Alice smiled brightly and said, "Here, here!" before taking dainty sip of her drink; Jasper bestowed upon me a slight smile and a nod of his own, for which I felt very grateful; Rosalie wrapped me in a one-armed hug and squeezed gently; and Edward, who I came to last, held my gaze for several seconds. Finally he smiled a dazzlingly crooked smile, nodded once, and then took a slow sip of his beer. Dazed and somewhat humbled by the sincere welcome and acceptance, I muttered, "Thanks," before taking a sip of my own Coke.
-- -- --
The rest of the night had passed as if we were all old friends reuniting after an immense amount of time; The Cullen Clan, as they teasingly called themselves despite Jasper's last name of Hale, regaled us out-of-towners with stories of growing up in Chicago. Mostly they were fun-filled stories of sneaking into Shay Aquarium and cheating their way out of paying for a ticket to watch the dolphin shows when they were younger; of riding the giant Ferris Wheel out on Navy Pier so many times in a row that Jasper got sick; of gorging themselves on Chicago-style dogs and Coke at White Sox games. All three of them – Jasper included, as the best friend and pseudo-adoptee of the entire family – loved baseball, regularly spending their evenings at U.S. Cellular Field.
The night passed easily, and that made me less anxious about living alone in Chicago. It seemed the Cullen Clan had already set their sights on me as their latest inductee, or at least Alice had. I wasn't sure about Jasper, as he rarely took his sights off Alice; Edward was even more difficult to pinpoint. He seemed aloof at times, seemingly not all there during the conversation, leaning back in his seat and drinking his beer silently. And other times he immersed himself into the story with such intensity that it was too entertaining to look away; the way he laughed and gestured with his hands was mesmerizing.
And there were the two times I'd caught him staring at me intently as I laughed at a story or antic they'd shared. I wasn't sure if I should be creeped out or thrilled.
By eleven-thirty, Edward and Jasper each had three more rounds of beer and were still acting normal, Alice had two more of her fruity concoctions and was getting a little pink in the cheeks, and Rose and I were getting a little tired. I still had to get Rose to her hotel, which meant going back to the university to retrieve her suitcase from the back of my car. We had all collectively agreed that it was time to pack up and head home, as Jasper was in one of the classes that started a earlier than others and had to wake up at seven in the morning, and Edward didn't care to stay out too late anyways. Alice had decided, at Jasper's persuasion, to go with me and Rose to the hotel, so that she would not be alone in her dorm room – Jasper tended to be a tad overprotective. We left Palino's at a quarter till midnight and Edward successfully hailed two cabs with grace and efficiency.
Jasper kissed Alice's cheek before she slipped into the cab before Rose; Rose bid Edward and Jasper farewell and asked that they look after me – "She'll need it," she said with a teasing and yet affectionate smile at me – before slipping into the dark interior of the yellow Ford. I smiled at them both before taking my turn behind the door.
"Thanks for the welcome," I said, nodding. "I'll make sure Alice doesn't hurt herself, or anyone else for that matter, between here and our dorm." I smiled wider at them. Jasper nodded before getting into his cab, but Edward lingered.
"No problem," he said to my thank-you. "And, Bella?"
I'd turned to get into the cab, but paused and looked back at him. His eyes were bright even in the filtered glow from the streetlights; his pale skin seemed the shimmer from under his dark tee-shirt. "Yes?"
"I'm glad you're here."
Confused, and yet oddly bubbly, I nodded once, before ducking quickly into the cab. Once I'd closed the door, I turned back; Edward was still standing on the sidewalk, his hands in his pockets as Jasper waited in their cab, the door open to accept Edward. But he didn't get in yet. Just before we started to pull away, he smiled at me and – for the third time that night – winked at me.
-- -- --
"What the hell, Bella?!"
My eyes darted from were they'd been un-focusing on the blurs moving past the window and across the seat to Alice, who had turned her petite body so that her back was to her window. "What did I do?" I asked, worried; had I gotten a stain or a hole in her shirt, somehow? I began inspecting the borrowed garment, looking for in signs of damage.
Alice closed her eyes and clutched her hands into fists. "Not the shirt, Bella, the necklace, the necklace!" My hands fluttered back up to the silvery strands and I glanced up at her, confused. "What did I tell you about the necklace, Bella?"
"Uh. . ." I floundered, but Rosalie picked up my slack.
"Bella, you were totally playing with the necklaces," she told me, her big blue eyes piteous.
I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Once. I picked them up once, because I didn't have any hair to twirl around my finger. It's a nervous habit!"
"No, not once, Bella, multiple times!" Alice slumped against the door, and I randomly hoped that it was locked and it would not fly open on her as we turned a corner or something. "You didn't even notice, did you?"
I gaped at her. "What are you talking about, Alice?"
"Oh, damn, Bella." She shook her head sadly, as if I'd broken a fundamental rule of humanity and would spend the entirety of forever in Hell because of it. "You played with your necklace – or rather, my necklace – at least four times tonight. Including the time two minutes ago when you were staring out the window thinking about what knows who."
Rose giggled. "What exactly were you drinking, Alice? I think you may have had a little much. 'What knows who?'" She giggled again.
"No, I'm absolutely fine," Alice said, waving it off with a toss of her spiky black hair. "That's what I meant to say. Because Bella was thinking about someone; I could tell by the way her lips pursed out and her eyes kind of glazed over."
What? Was Alice on something? I hadn't been thinking about any – Oh. Right. I had been thinking about. . .
"See? That look! She's doing it right now."
I shook my head. "Hmm?"
Rose chortled. "I think Edward may have slipped something into her drink when he ordered it, Alice."
At the mention of Edward's name, a spark ignited somewhere in the depths of Alice's eyes; a spark of realization. Her mouth formed a silent 'Oh!' and she nodded slightly, though her eyes narrowed as if in disapproval.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, but rolled my eyes as if to brush it off. "Whatever. I'm fine. And I didn't play with my necklace." I shot Alice a look that hopefully would be interpreted to mean we'd talk later if she deemed it necessary, or we wouldn't talk and we'd pretend it never happened. I was all for option two. I doubted she would be. She cocked an eyebrow at me before Rose changed the subject.
"So what's the deal with you and Jasper?"
Alice's eyes widened, and then her expression changed completely.
If I'd thought the looks Jasper gave Alice were sweet, it was nothing compared to the way Alice looked when she talked about him. Her eyes grew soft and excited, her smile was more understated and she seemed to glow from within. The way she said his name sounded like a caress, an intimate moment she held very dear. It wasn't the sugary, bitterly too-sweetness of puppy love, but a deep connection forged over years of getting to know one another. That was why her answer surprised me.
"We're friends."
"What?!" Rose glared at her with indignation. "Honestly, Alice, why?"
Alice merely shrugged. I didn't really want to pry, but I was curious.
"You two look really close," I offered. Something she could chose to fully explain or give us the shortcut version of.
She nodded, pursing her lips. "We are. We've all been close – Edward, Jazz, and I – ever since we inducted Jasper to the clan when we were in elementary school. Jasper and I share a different friendship than Edward and I do or than he and Edward do – obviously – but it's always been that way. I guess from the outside it would look like an extremely long-term relationship. I guess, technically, it could be called that."
Rose raised an eyebrow. "So do you ever. . .?"
Alice grimaced. "No. Edward would make it weird somehow."
"He disapproves?"
"Not necessarily. . . but still. It's his baby sister and his best friend. How would you react?"
I pursed my lips. "If Jasper's a truly good person—"
Alice nodded fervently. "He is."
"—Then, as Edward, I wouldn't be able to think of anyone better suited for my baby sister."
I saw a gleam of hope in Alice's eyes before she got the flame under control and extinguished it. Alice shrugged her way out of the topic and she began asking us our opinion of Chicago before we reached the university.
Once there we all piled into my Sentra and Alice directed us towards the hotel Rosalie had made reservations at. We didn't talk on the way, because Alice was giving directions. It was only fifteen minutes away, even with traffic, and when we reached the hotel parking lot we all got out and I wrapped my arms around Rose.
"Thanks for coming with me, Rosie," I said, squeezing her. She squeezed back and chuckled.
"Anytime. Come see me in NYC sometime, Bells."
"Sure, sure," I sniffled, and then pulled away with a watery laugh. Rose turned to Alice and they hugged good-bye, Alice promising to visit with me whenever I decided to go. I was surprised at how quickly we'd all gotten along; Alice even wiped away a tear as Rosalie sauntered across the parking lot and towards the entrance, suitcase in tow. She'd be flying out for Washington in the morning; her semester didn't start for another two weeks in New York.
Alice assumed the front seat and I slid behind the wheel. As I turned the key in the ignition, Alice angled her body towards me, like she had in the cab. I instinctively hit the locks before shooting her a furtive smile.
"So," she said ominously. I cringed as I navigated my way back out onto the confusing roadway, knowing what was coming. "Out with it, Bella."
I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, and smiled apologetically. "I'm guessing this happens a lot?"
She nodded, her lips set in a straight line. "Girls tend to gravitate towards Edward. He's like a freak of nature."
"Girls, as in many?"
"As in enough that you don't want to know," she said, narrowing her eyes. "I don't mean to sound cruel, Bella, because I love my brother. But he's not exactly first-love, take-home-to-momma material."
I cringed as I crawled to a stop at a red light. Why did I really even care?
"I'm guessing he doesn't really say no," I said bitterly. Alice chuckled quietly.
"Not really, no." She seemed to be trying to gauge my reaction, to I took out the seven pins she'd used to pin my hair and shook it out as much as I could in the confined space, making sure it hid my expression. I shouldn't care. I'd barely known the guy a day, let alone a couple of hours. "He can be very charming."
Charming. . . as in stare at you and wink and smile and say nice things. I nodded absentmindedly as we pulled into the university parking lot. I spotted the offensive silver car from earlier and randomly wished it bodily harm. . . perhaps a broken-off side-view mirror.
As I arranged my keys in my hand – the metal shafts sticking through my fisted fingers in a cautionary habit I'd had ever since I'd gotten my license – Alice peered at me.
"Just be careful with what you're doing, Bella. I care about Edward, but I don't want to see you get hurt."
I looked at her then. Her eyes were wide and serious. I nodded shortly once before getting out, Alice following my lead, and hitting the locks.
We were quiet while we rode the elevator to the third floor, Edward's previous words running rampant through my mind. I'm glad you're here.
What the hell did it mean?
When we reached the dorm, we both changed into pajamas and I returned Alice's borrowed belongings. She told me to keep the flats, that she couldn't wear them anyways. She said she had several more pairs of shoes in my size and that if I was ever in need of shoes – and the way she'd cocked her brow had made it apparent that my shoe situation was an emergency, and that I was constantly in need of satisfactorily cute shoes – to feel free to comb through her collection.
"You're on your way to gaining unlimited access to my side of the closet," she said seriously, "but first I must be assured of the fact that you'll know how to use it correctly."
I wasn't sure if I should laugh or nod quietly. I opted for half and half, snickering quietly, while half-heartedly bobbing my head.
Once we were ready for bed, I decided to make a vending machine run; there was a service area in the middle of the floor by the student lounge with soda, juice, and food machines, a coffee and cappuccino machine, and microwaves. I flattened my dollar against the side of the machine and slid it into the machine before leaning back to make my selection.
Soda. . . too sugary. Water. . . too blah. I could grab a cup out of the bathroom tap that we shared with the next-door dorm for what it was worth. There were some fruit juice choices that I debated, before settling on orange. As I reached down to hit the button, a voice broke my concentration.
"Hard decision?"
I jumped; I backed into the counter behind me, knocking over a napkin dispenser and a stack of paper cups. I spun and caught them before they could roll onto the floor, and stacked them back up before turning to investigate the source of the voice. Though I really didn't need to; his words were still bounding around in my head. I'm glad you're here.
I glared up at him, and he chuckled. "I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to scare you."
I continued to glare at him, before sighing and jabbing the orange juice button. I waited while the machine whirred and the bottle thunked into the bottom; as I reached in and grabbed it, I looked up at him.
"No," I said. "I just think about my decisions before I make them."
He shrugged, and leaned against the doorframe, blocking me into the little alcove where the machines were placed. I took a deep breath and waited. He was wearing the same plain dark tee-shirt but had donned a pair of long gray sweatpants; the were slung low on his hips, the tops of his plain white boxers visible just over the top of them where his shirt wasn't long enough. I tore my eyes off of them as soon as I realized I was staring. He chuckled.
"Thinking is good," he said. I snorted.
"Generally, yeah." I cocked an eyebrow at him and pulled the lid off my juice. I took a long drink before I recapped it and glared at him. "So, are we going to stand here and exchange valuable advice like 'thinking is good' all night, or you are going to let me by?"
It was his turn to raise a brow; he noted my bitter tone, and then his face fell. "Have you talked to Alice?"
I breathed hard through my nose before nodding. "We may have breezed past the subject, yeah."
"What subject might that be?" His eyes were narrower and a little sad now.
"Your gravitational pull." Let him make of that what he may. His eyes hardened, and he pushed away from the doorframe. Instead of letting me by, though, he closed in on me; I was backed against the counter again before he stopped, his chest just inches from mine.
My heart hammered in my chest as he stared at my lips; I had to keep myself from licking them, afraid it would pull him in even further, but the look he was giving them made the urge to do just that strong. After a dozen rogue heartbeats, he met my gaze.
"Do you like surprises, Bella?" he said, his voice low and smooth.
"I. . . huh?" I breathed. He was so close. Close enough I could taste his breath on my tongue. It was sweet. And warm. And mouth-watering. My tongue jutted out and brushed against my lips once, before I realized what I was doing. His eyes darted down to my lips again, and I heard a ow, almost silent purr somewhere in the back of his throat.
"Surprises, Bella. Do you like them?"
I glared at him for a hard minute before I blinked. "Alice told me about all about you," I managed to stutter. I'd meant it as a warning, and though my voice was jittery and he obviously had the upper hand, he froze.
I nodded, fortified by his pause. "Everything, Edward. About how charming you are. And how you just can't seem to say no."
He blinked, and his mouth opened as if he wanted to say something, but he came up empty.
I leaned into him a fraction of an inch – the top of my head came to his chin – and shook my head slowly. "I know how to say no, Edward."
He stared at me speechlessly. In his moment of weakness I sidestepped him and squeezed out of the alcove. I was halfway down the hall when I heard his footsteps jogging after me.
"Bella, wait. . ."
I ignored him and pounded on my door, having not brought my key. "Alice, open up!" I called, oblivious to the fact that it was after midnight. I doubted many people were really asleep anyways. Edward was closing in, so I raised my fist and knocked again. I noticed the goose bumps that had risen on my bare arms.
The door across the hallway from me opened inward and I turned around to see who it was; Jasper stuck his blonde curls into the hall to see the source of the commotion.
"Bella?" His voice was low. Edward closed the distance between us just as Alice opened the door behind me. Jasper looked on the verge of saying something – perhaps to speak to Alice, or ask why I was glaring at Edward so harshly, but Edward cut him off. He tossed something plastic and cold and orange at me – my orange juice. I barely caught it; it banged into my upper arm before I got a hold on it.
"You forgot something," Edward said. His voice was low and inexplicable. He pressed passed me and Jasper stepped away from the door, into the depths of the dim dorm. Edward paused and took Jasper's place in the doorway, one hand wrapped around the edge of the door, prepared to close it.
"Surprise," he muttered, before closing the door in my face.
-- -- --
Disclaimer.
I don't own Twilight, Bella, Edward, Alice, Jasper, Rosalie, or any other recognizable characters from the saga. They are the sole property of S. Meyer and no copyright infringement is intended by the author of this story. Aka, me. :)
Now that that's over, I can have fun in this little space my plot bunnies allow me at the end of my updates. Yaaaay. . . (Usually they hold me hostage, tied to a hard wooden chair, until I'm ready to resume work on them. Fun times. . . )
Author's Note.
Okay, okay. Before anyone sues me. I know there are a ton of "Bella and Edward Go To College" fics out there, and a lot of them are a lot better than mine. But when there's a plot pounding on the inside of your brain like that (think Thumper from Bambi), then you write what the plot bunny tells you to out of fear for your mental well-being. The plot bunny is a scary thing. Sometimes I'm convinced there's one under my bed, waiting until I'm on the verge of sleep to attack. . . But that's another story for another time. Teehee.
You'll find that I like to have fun with my AN's, so sometimes they makah no senseah. Like talking about giant bunnies under beds and other common, routine randomosity like such. Just stick with it, it eventually makes sense. . . you know, when your brain is so garbled by the random stuff. Like mine!
-insert attention-grabbing theng here, such as a pulsing neon light that says something to the tune of, HEY, YOU. START READING THIS AUTHOR'S NOTE. IT'S FULL OF GOOD STUFF AND FUN TIMES. JAH.-
UM. . . oh, right. Please review. ESPECIALLY if you liked this first chapter and would like to see more. I generally don't do this, but I'm going to decide whether or not I keep writing this based solely on the public reaction. Since it is fairly similar to other stories out there, I'm going to wait to see if anyone cares about this fic before I invest a bunch of time and effort into it only to be wasted. Like some of me, ahem, other stories. . . but, you know, whatevs.
-aaaaaaand /reading- :) Enjoy, yo.