As usual, please direct all thanks and praise to trixietraci. She knows why ;)
(Hell, if you've read anything of mine, you probably know why, too.)
Catch
Catch it, catch up, catch fire, catch me if you can. Edward and Bella have spent a lifetime playing some form of catch with each other.
"I love you." "You don't even know me." "But I love you still."
Edward considers it practice; is Bella ready to be caught once and for all?
Edward watched as his father tossed the baseball in the air once, twice, three times before resituating his grip and winding up to pitch. Then the ball was soaring through the air towards him at a surprising speed. But, equally as quick, Edward swung the bat in his hands and grinned broadly when a resounding crack sounded in his ear.
"Atta boy, Eds!" Carlisle exclaimed as they watched the little white ball arc through the air above them. Seconds later it landed with a muted thud! in the outfield, joining two dozen others of its kind.
As Edward's gaze followed the ball's path, his eyes landed on two children playing a few yards away from the 'baseball graveyard' (as his Gramps liked to call it). They were tossing a ball – one of his baseballs – back and forth between them. Before he even knew what he was doing, Edward had chucked his bat to the side and was stomping up to and past first base.
"Hey, that's my ball!"
"Edward," Carlisle called out lowly in warning behind him, following at a slower pace so he could see the scene play out. The young boy just ignored him and continued plodding heavily towards the now still pair.
"You have so many!" the taller of the two cried out in exasperation, her hands on her hips. "And we're just bor-rowing it. Em wanted to play catch. We were gonna give it back!"
At this point, Edward was nose-to-nose (or, more accurately, nose-to-chin seeing as she was several inches taller than him) with the thief-girl, growling as menacingly as his eight-almost-nine year old face would allow. She was tall, with pale, pale skin and shiny brown hair pulled into a messy side ponytail. Her wide brown eyes stared down at him in annoyance.
"Give it back!" he demanded, outstretching his arm and opening his hand. He expected Thief-Girl to drop it in his palm without a fuss; he wasn't expecting her to look him straight in the eye then turn and throw it into the woods.
"HEY! MY BALL!"
"There, you can go get it yourself!" Thief-Girl yelled before harrumphing and turning to the little boy just yards away. "Come on, Emmy. Let's go home."
"But…?" The little boy (very little, by the looks of him) looked confused then stuck four of his fingers into his mouth. Edward grimaced in distaste. "But, Wa, baw, kah-tzz?"
Thief-Girl sighed and picked up the boy, pulling his hand out of his mouth and wiping it on her shirt. "Not today, Emmy. The mean boy won't let us play catch with one of his balls. We'll come back tomorrow with one of our own."
As the two turned to walk away, Edward's ire flared up again.
"Hey! You can't leave yet! You still have to get my ball!"
Turning to face him, Thief-Girl shot him an incredulous look. The little boy's eyes darted between the two of them and he nervously stuck his hand between his lips again. "You didn't want me to play with it, so you can get it yourself."
"No way!" Edward whined, stomping his foot stubbornly. "You threw it into the woods, you have to go get it back."
"I don't have to do anything you tell me to do," Thief-Girl argued. "What does it matter anyway? You have, like, a billion balls here. It's not like you're going to miss one."
"Edward…" Carlisle warned.
"I have twenty-four balls here and that was my twenty-fifth. You need to go get it because I'm not leaving here until I have it back."
"Well, then you'll be waiting a damn long time then, won't you."
And she turned and jogged away.
:: :: ::
"She swore and lost my ball," Edward grumbled, holding back angry tears as he buckled himself into his seat.
"Now, Edward, you have to calm down." Carlisle peered at his son through the rearview mirror. Upon seeing his sullen face, he turned to face him. "Was it necessary for you to yell at her?"
There was no answer so Carlisle continued.
"No, it wasn't. She was just playing catch with her brother."
"But she didn't ask!" Edward reasoned. "Those are my balls and she didn't even ask if she could use one!"
"Have you forgotten how to share, Edward?" his father admonished, the disappointment in his tone too much for Edward to bear. One tear slipped out followed by a second and, before he could stop it, frustrated sobs were coursing through him. Carlisle sighed and turned around to face the right way, starting the car and plotting out what to do next.
:: :: ::
"You should find the ball thief and make her find my baseball," Edward pouted as he shoved his feet into the ugly orange rain boots the next day.
As punishment for his petulant attitude the day before, Edward's parents decided to make him look for the ball in question himself. Carlisle would come to supervise the impromptu hike (seeing as he hadn't stopped his son's rampage himself, his wife reasoned) but if Edward wanted his ball back so badly, he could, as the little girl had told him yesterday, go and get it himself.
It didn't help that it had rained all night.
And on and off all day.
So Edward trudged through the mud, tearing branches off trees and tall grasses from their roots with a vengeance as he searched for Ball #20 (he snuck out of bed at eleven o'clock and organized his balls in the garage; each one had a little number printed neatly at the right seam and #20 was the only one missing) and muttering about Thief-Girl and all her stupid girl… ness.
"Twenty more minutes, Ed," his father called from a few yards away. He shook his almost empty travel mug to gauge just how much coffee was left inside. "Then we're going home."
"I'm not going home without my baseball," Edward shot back and continued to search in earnest.
Two puddles, a quick rain shower, and a bullfrog jumping out of some reeds later, Edward heard light laughter and splashing coming from across the stream. The lightness of the tone irritated him because of his misery and he stomped over to share his ire.
As he reached the clearing, he spied two figures in bright colored rain gear mucking around in some puddles. Big splashes and fat droplets of mud rained down around them and Edward felt a pang in his chest – he longed to join them. Being an only child and living too far (in his opinion; he did ride a two-wheeler but he still wasn't allowed to go anywhere by himself yet) from the rest of Forks Town Proper left him isolated much of the time, with only his parents and imagination as constant playmates.
Unknowingly, Edward had crept closer. Finally, just yards away, he realized why the higher, feminine laugh sounded familiar: it was Thief-Girl! How dare she be having fun while he was toiling away, looking for his baseball! Carlisle held back and watched his son with a knowing eye.
"Hey!" he shouted angrily.
"Oh." Thief-Girl stared at him for a beat before looking away with disinterest. "It's you again." She sighed. "Come on, Emmy."
"No, Wa!" the little boy wailed, stomping his bright blue rain boots into the puddle. The splash back hit him on the cheek, startling him momentarily before he giggled. "Pah-duls! You say we plah pah-duls!"
"We can still play in the puddles, Emmy," the girl told the little boy patiently. "We just have to play somewhere else."
"You can't go!" Edward cried. "You have to help me find my baseball!"
"You're still on that?" Thief-Girl asked, irritated. "You had a bazillion of them, you really can't be missing one."
"I had twenty-five," Edward replied in exasperation. Hadn't he told her this already?
"Besides, that was yesterday."
"Doesn't matter! I still don't have my ball today!"
The two argued, hurling reasonings and rationalizations back and forth. Carlisle couldn't help the smirk that graced his face as he kept one eye and an ear to the pair, the other set looking out for the little boy named Emmy.
Carlisle watched little Emmy follow the shouting contest like a rapt spectator at a tennis match, head swinging back and forth as each party traded volleys. But eventually he gave up, shaking his little head and going back to spelunking in the various puddles. The toddler walked a ways away, occasionally bending down to poke or prod at something on the ground, but otherwise happy to be getting wet and dirty all by himself.
"Wa!" Emmy shouted a minute later, waving at his big sister then pointing to a patch of damp, overgrown grass. "Wa, baw! Baw!"
Bella peered over at her brother who was pointing to the ground with excitement. He was a distance away and, with the stupid boy from yesterday still yelling at her, she couldn't hear him very well and misinterpreted his words. "No, Emmy, don't pick up the bug. It's dirty."
"Baw, Wa!" Emmy insisted. He made a clumsy throwing motion before pointing again to his treasure in the wet dirt. "Baw, baw, baw!"
Abandoning her argument with the Rude Boy, Bella made her way over to see just what Emmett was making such a big fuss about. His excitement grew as she neared and his little feet sloshed mud as he jumped in place.
"Kah-tzz baw, Wa!" Emmett exclaimed proudly, pointing again. Peering down into the mud, Bella grinned. There, stuck in the wet earth, was a little white ball with red stitching.
The number 20 written in black Magic Marker was visible by the right seam.
:: :: ::
Edward and Bella were inseparable from that day forward, though their coexistence was ever far from harmonious. They were like brother and sister, loving at times but with a penchant to turn nasty towards each other at the slightest provocation. And it didn't help that tomboy Bella (or as Edward (sometimes) affectionately called her, Thief) and Edward (or, just as affectionately known as Sped by Bella, though he never knew why) did everything together; when Renee had found that Bella and Emmett had made friends with Edward, the three were constantly thrown together.
When Edward was signed up for swimming lessons, Bella (though however reluctantly) was signed up, too. When Bella showed an interest in soccer, Edward insisted that he was just as similarly interested. Renee and Esme, delighted at the friendship that had formed between their children, then proceeded to enrol them in taekwondo (which Edward loved, solely for the fact that Bella punched herself just as much she punched the focus mitts) and in drama club (which Bella thought was unnecessary considering Edward was dramatic enough for the both of them and didn't need classes to harness it all). Then, the summer Edward was to turn twelve came, and with it the great anticipation for baseball: he was finally old enough to join the community centre team.
"So when are we signing up?" Bella asked one afternoon, hanging upside down on the monkey bars in the jungle gym in Edward's backyard. She spent every day after school there because her mom worked late most nights as a nurse at the same hospital where Edward's dad was Chief of Staff. Emmett was inside the house with Missus Esme, watching 'The Backyardigans' while Edward's mom baked cookies.
"For?" Edward asked absently, his attention intent on putting together the pitching machine his dad had bought.
"For baseball season, duh. Come on, Sped, you've been so excited for baseball, you should've known what I was talking about."
Abandoning the mechanisms at hand, Edward turned to Bella and sneered. "You can't join baseball this year, Thief."
"What are you talking about?" Her mind flew back years ago to when they first joined soccer and Sped had insisted that girls couldn't play. Three excruciating viewings of 'Bend It Like Beckham' later, she finally had him convinced. "If this is that sexist crap again, Sped…"
"You're only eleven, Thief."
Bella peered at him with wide, questioning eyes. "So? So are you. And I'm only three months younger than you. Less. Two months and three weeks."
"Yeah, but I turn twelve by the cut off date." Edward turned back to the pitching machine, occasionally peering at the instructions sheet at his side.
"Cut off date? What are you talking about?"
"It said in the sign up rules that you have to be twelve by June thirtieth to be eligible to sign up for baseball."
Without another word, Bella dropped down from the monkey bars and stormed into the house. A few minutes later Edward could hear her voice, low at first then rising, as she pitched a fit to his mother. He couldn't help the small grin that formed on his face.
:: :: ::
That incident began their growing apart. That summer, when Edward was playing baseball, Bella was enrolled into gymnastics. Edward loved it. Bella did not.
Edward loved the feeling of freedom, as if having Bella as a constant in his life had been holding him back, hindering him from reaching his potential, in whatever form it could come. He was finally making friends – appropriate friends in his pre-adolescent mind: boys his age who shared his interests. There were no little kids or girls (no girls had signed up for baseball that year) tagging along that he had to mind.
Bella hated every second of every minute she spent at gymnastics. For the first four weeks of the summer it was gymnastics day camp. All the girls there were prissy little know it alls who sneered at her and laughed openly at how miserably she failed at the tumbling and the bouncing and the somersaults. None of them liked to get dirty and many of them, most of whom she went to school with during the year, had taken to calling her Billy in an effort to annoy and outcast her. She spent the first week crying every night, wondering why she couldn't just spend her summer with Sped like normal. The second week was spent lashing out at those who even dared look her way.
"Now this time, girls," Coach Hauser called out one day during week three of Torture. This week they were focusing on floor exercises and the uneven bars. They had spent the morning running drills across the floor and, to Bella's great surprise, she wasn't falling or tripping as much as usual.
"I want you each to string these skills together, making it a combination. So you're going to start here," she pointed to a corner of the floor, "then jog around the mat. When you get back to this corner, you're going to begin your combination. Most creative combination is exempt from tumbling runs tomorrow."
Competition. That was something Bella was familiar with. Keeping that thought in mind, she followed the girls around the mat and formulated her short routine.
Suffice to say, she warmed up with a smile on her face the next morning while everyone else did tumbling routines.
:: :: ::
The summer ended and if Edward thought that things would return to normal, he was severely mistaken. Bella had taken the second session of gymnastics camp that ran through August so he barely saw her. Their weekends together she spent performing tricks on the different makeshift apparatuses of his backyard jungle gym.
He was reluctant to admit it, even to himself, but he was beginning to miss his Thief.
When September came, so did the sudden whirlwind of popularity. Not for him, but for Bella. Suddenly all the girls who used to tease her the years previous were now her friends. She was wearing skirts and worrying about her appearance. Worst of all, she became a giggler.
Edward was bewildered.
And a little hurt, too, when his usual invitation to her birthday party was not issued.
"I'm having a girls only sleepover, Sped," she told him primly when he cornered her at her locker a week before her birthday.
"Good, then." He feigned nonchalance as he tried with everything in him not to feel affronted. "Saves me from having to buy you a birthday gift."
Little did she know, he had already bought her one.
:: :: ::
"Man, check that out." A low whistle followed the comment and Edward couldn't help but turn his head. A gaggle of females were congregated by the outside gym doors, all dressed in their cheerleader finery. There was a lot of leg and, as a teenaged boy, Edward could appreciate that.
"I love sports," Tyler laughed. "Have I mentioned that lately?"
Edward laughed and slammed the door to the Volvo. "You're such a fucking perv."
"Hey, man!" A baseball was chucked his way but Edward caught it swiftly. "Don't tell me that you wouldn't hit any one of those if the opportunity arose!"
Edward merely shrugged in response.
"Good morning, boys!" a chorus of voices called in the crisp morning air. Edward and the rest of his teammates greeted the cheerleaders as they walked past towards the high school's baseball diamond where Coach Clapp was sure to be waiting.
Aiming for subtlety, he tried to catch the eye of one particular cheerleader. Her long, mahogany hair was swept up in a messy bun at the top of her head and a little red leather jacket did a poor job of protecting her from the sharp spring chill that was surely sweeping up her flirty, black skirt. But she studiously avoided his gaze, as usual, and bent her head further as she spoke in hushed tones to Rosalie Hale, captain of their squad.
It pissed Edward off. But instead of lashing out, he just channelled it into determination, breaking into a jog towards the field.
:: :: ::
"We have a baseball game and a basketball game on Friday afternoon," Jessica began as they all piled into Rose's cherry red M6.
"And? We've already split the squad to cover both games." Bella eased herself into the front passenger seat, studiously ignoring the shiny silver Volvo convertible parked three rows to the left.
It was a sexy ass car, even if it was a Volvo, and one too many of her deepest dreams had starred her and its owner doing unspeakable acts on its hood.
All those years ago, when Bella finally began to excel at gymnastics, her popularity at camp began to soar. Suddenly no one was making fun of her and they all wanted to be her friend.
She had never had friends outside of Edward and Emmett before.
She couldn't deny that it felt amazing. The girls who had once shunned her for playing with the boys at school were now calling her every night, wondering what she was going to wear the next day, what she was going to bring for lunch.
Suddenly, for what felt to be the first time in her life, her opinion mattered.
She mattered.
And when Rosalie had pointed out one day during lunch break at camp that Edward seemed to treat her absolutely horribly, Bella couldn't find any excuse to defend him and so had believed her.
"He treats you like the little brother he never wanted," Rosalie said, tapping the carrot stick in her hand thoughtfully. Her pale yellow legwarmers were bunched up around her knees and the yarn was unravelling in some places. Despite that, though, Rosalie held herself like a queen and the rest of the world took notice.
"Not… Not really," Bella replied slowly, although too many incidents began popping into her head.
"He does, Isabella, I've seen him do it." With Rosalie so sure of her words, it was very hard to doubt her. "And it's not fair to you."
Bella didn't know what to say.
"But that's okay because you have us now."
And they'd had her back ever since. Which was more than what she could say about Edward. The second he saw that she was enjoying life without him, he had just cut her out, cold turkey.
Two can play at that game, she had thought. And Bella had lived by that ever since.
"Bella? Bella, are you even listening to me?"
Snapping out of her head, Bella found that she had tuned out the entire car ride. The M6 was parked in her driveway, right behind her shitbag, rust bucket truck.
"Oh. Um, sorry." She scrambled to grab her backpack and her purse. "Long day. I'm just tired. See you guys tomorrow."
She exited the car and tripped her way up to the small cottage-style home she, Emmett, and her mother shared. Shooting a longing look at the woods that separated her from the small, out of the way park she had spent so much of her childhood time in, she forced herself to unlock the door and make her way inside.
:: :: ::
Bella was restless.
Rolling over for the umpteenth time in her small bed, she grabbed her cellphone off of its charging dock on her nightstand. The display told her it was 1:38 AM and she groaned in frustration.
Another ten minutes spent trying in vain to get to sleep found Bella jumping out of bed and dressing in her Forks Spartans sweats and an oversized Mariners' hoodie. Silently, she exited her room and grabbed her keys as quietly as she could then left the house via the back door. Once outside, she bypassed her truck (too noisy; the damn thing backfired more that it actually drove) and headed for the woods she had longed for earlier.
It wasn't hard to find the trail in the moonlight, even despite the dense grouping of trees. So much of her time had been spent traversing these woods that it was second nature to her. She emerged on the other side of the thicket to find that she was not alone.
In the light of the full moon, Bella could see someone standing at bat on the baseball diamond. Whoever it was was tall and had not yet seen her. They were tossing up balls and lazily hitting them, not with any real power but with a mindlessness that made it obvious for Bella to see that she was not the only one experiencing a sleepless night.
Hanging back, close to the trees, Bella watched the figure. He – it was obviously a guy – would bend down, pick up a ball from one of the buckets at his feet, toss it in the air a couple of times before pitching for himself, throwing the ball a fair distance up in the air and positioning himself beneath it with the bat. It became apparent to her that this was regular practice for this individual because he never missed a single ball.
Creeping closer but still keeping to the treeline, Bella finally figured out that it was Edward when the moon shone at his ridiculously messy hair, tinting the normally bronze bedhead to a deep, new penny copper. He was talking to himself, hitting every few balls harder than the others, but otherwise stuck in his own head.
Finally Bella could stay quiet no longer.
"Please don't tell me that you have every single one of those balls numbered." It was meant to come out jokingly, but even she had to wince slightly at the dry, acerbic tone her words had taken.
Bella was pleased to find that she had startled Edward enough to miss a pitch.
"Jesus, Bella! What the fuck are you doing here out so late?" Edward had to jump back as the ball fell to the ground, narrowly missing his toe.
To say Edward was surprised to see Bella was an understatement. Not her general presence, though that, too, was unexpected, but the fact that he saw the real Bella. Her face was flushed and there were streaks of dirt spaced across her cheek and forehead. Her skin was made paler than usual by the white moonlight, highlighting the dark streaks of mud. She was dressed in ratty, oversized sweats and, to him, she never looked more beautiful.
"I could ask you the same thing, Sped."
He hadn't heard that nickname in years and suddenly he was on the defensive. He couldn't help himself – Edward hadn't seen this Bella in so long that he was wary.
"What do you want, Bella?"
Her face fell, and she busied herself by picking up a stray baseball and tossing it up in the air. Up and catch… Higher and catch… Up and catch and pitch. Edward watched in amazement as the ball whizzed through the air, past the outfield and into the woods. Much further than he had expected it to go.
"Wow." He tried to school his features into indifference but one look at her and he knew she wasn't fooled. "Didn't think you could still throw like that."
"Yeah, well, I lost my interest in baseball a long time ago." Bella's words held more weight than they implied and Edward sighed.
"Yeah, and apparently gymnastics and cheerleading are all you've been able to think about since." His tone was biting.
There was an awkward silence between the two of them as they digested each other's words. Both were hurt but couldn't figure out a way to move past it, letting it sit between them like a whole other entity pitching balls of its own in the dark field from their childhood.
"What happened?" Bella asked, finally deciding that she needed to be the braver one.
"I fell in love with you."
Wait, Bella thought. What?!
Edward, to his credit, didn't even know the words were going to come out of his mouth until they were out there, playing a game of catch with their combined awkwardness. Hell, he hadn't even known that he was in love with her until he had said the words, but since they were out there, he knew that they were true.
"You don't even know me," Bella said quietly in reply.
Edward just shrugged and pitched a ball for himself. "But I love you still."
Not knowing what to say to that, Bella just turned on her heel and walked back home, the thunderous symphony of aluminium against leather a fitting accompaniment as she trudged her way through the darkened woods.
:: :: ::
Bella spent the rest of her night tossing and turning. No matter what, though, she couldn't seem to escape the five seemingly simple words Edward had spoken to her.
"But I love you still."
He had seemed so sure of himself, the bastard. As if those words didn't carry the entire weight of the world in their combined meaning. He had said them so casually, as if he was telling her that the sky was blue or that human beings breathed air; like that one sentence was a mere fact, not an absolute, glaring revelation.
The bastard, she scowled again in her head.
"But I love you still."
As her eyelids finally succumbed to sleep as the night began to grey out into morning, Bella's dreams consisted of memories of her and Edward through the years. Only, in every single scene, he said those same, stupid words.
"But I love you still."
:: :: ::
Edward knew that Bella was making a concentrated effort to ignore him since that night at the park. Now, instead of sitting on the opposite side of the room in the classes they shared, she just skipped classes altogether, popping in to get her absence slip signed by the teacher before darting away to… wherever. And, at last Friday's baseball game, she just didn't show up at all.
It killed him.
And it was killing his game, too.
"Cullen!" Coach Clapp roared as he let a grounder roll past him. Edward looked up to see the angry, red face of his coach pointing to the outfield. "Laps. Now."
With a heavy sigh, Edward dropped his glove to the side of the pitcher's mound and jogged towards the green grass in the distance. He wanted to berate himself, flagellate himself for not concentrating when the state championship was up in less than four days, but he couldn't. To him, there was something suddenly much more important than baseball.
And nothing in his life had ever been more important than baseball before.
:: :: ::
"Beat 'em, bust 'em 'cuz that is Spartan custom!"
"Who are we?"
"Spartans!"
"I can't hear you! I said, who are we?"
"Spartans!"
"STOP!"
Bella was just about to jump into a tumbling routine when Coach O'Connor blasted her whistle, the sound echoing and reverberating through the gymnasium.
"Someone wanna tell me what the hell is wrong with Jessica?"
Totally unaware of what Coach was talking about, Bella looked around at their group. There, at the base of the middle pyramid, was the empty spot where Jessica had been. Confused murmurs rose through the ranks as necks craned and eye wandered.
"Jesus, girls! Come on! We're going to be cheering at Husky Stadium for the baseball State Championships!" Coach O'Connor raked her hand through her hair roughly. "Okay, you know what? Someone go find Jessica, see if she's okay. Rose, you go do that. The rest of you: go home. Stretch yourselves out, go home and get some rest. I want to see you bright and early tomorrow morning, running laps around the football field."
Bella watched as Rosalie jogged off towards the changerooms but had no desire to run after her. Instead, she sunk to the floor and began her warm down routine, motioning for her teammates to make way as she prepared to do some simple tumbles across the dense mat. She absentmindedly completed several simple passes and assisted some of the others with theirs before she stretched out, grabbed her gym bag and knapsack from the bleachers and headed out to the parking lot.
When she didn't see Rose's BMW in the lot, Bella was thankful that Renee had asked (read: demanded) her to drive Emmett to school this morning. Tossing her stuff in the bed of the rust bucket with an alarming thump!, she climbed into the cab and headed off for home.
:: :: ::
"Hold on, hold on already!"
The phone was ringing, once, twice, five times before the voicemail kicked in. Fifteen seconds and it was ringing again, the sound incessant in my ears as Bella tripped her way though the house and into the living room.
"Hello?" she asked breathlessly, flopping down on the couch.
"She's pregnant."
What? "Rose? Huh?"
"She's fucking pregnant!" Bella had known Rosalie for a while now and, by the sound of her voice and her rapid breathing, she was close to, if not already, hyperventilating. "That's what happened to her today during practice – fucking morning sickness. Well, pregnancy sick, at least."
Bella sat, confused for a moment, before piecing it all together. Jessica.
"No fucking way," she breathed, sitting up stock straight with her eyes wide and focused on the mantle across the room. "She's -? Whose?"
"Jesus," Rose spat. "Knowing Jess, it could be any number of guys. But she did narrow it down for me: she said it had to be one of three guys on the baseball team."
Now was Bella's turn to hyperventilate. Immediately her thoughts turned towards copper-bronze hair and pale, apple green eyes and she felt the anger beginning to rise within her.
"W-who?" she stuttered, cursing herself for sounding so breathless.
"Fuck if I know," Rose sighed. "She wouldn't tell me. I love her, but God, I want to strangle that whore sometimes."
:: :: ::
"Okay, this is it, guys."
Edward watched with an almost detached air as the team of boys grouped around their balding, overweight coach. He followed mechanically and crouched forward to listen.
"This is it," Clapp repeated. "This is the game of your lifetimes. Those stands out there are full of people – not just any people, but scouts, agents, college recruiters, all those important people who could be vital to your futures if you just don't fuck it up."
A murmur went through the team and Coach nodded once before continuing.
"This is what I want to see out there: Foley, don't be afraid to…"
Edward tuned one ear out and tried to center himself, focus on the game ahead. Coach was right – there were people in those stands he needed to impress today. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes – his dream of playing in the major leagues was at risk here and he needed to concentrate.
He needed to not think about all the drama that had erupted in Forks just a few days ago.
He needed to not think about what Bella thought about all the drama.
He needed to not think about Bella today.
Which would be virtually impossible, considering she was sitting right outside with the rest of the cheerleading squad, getting ready to cheer him and his team on.
The rumors that Jess Stanley was pregnant had taken the whole school by storm (he wondered why, considering it didn't actually seem to be much of a surprise to him when he really thought about it) on Wednesday and, of course, along came the speculations on who the possible baby daddy could be. Edward had ruled out the guys who played only football or basketball or hockey (Jess was very much a sport-of-the-moment groupie); it had to be one of his baseball teammates or one of the track athletes. It didn't bother him too much, all this drama; after all, he had steered very clear of Jess and turned her down on numerous occasions.
It wasn't until Wednesday afternoon that he began to panic. He was walking to Chemistry class and the crowded halls had found him behind Penny Lawson, Samantha Stephens, and his Thief. They were huddled together, talking in hushed tones about Jess and, when he was jostled forward, he couldn't help but overhear.
"So we've ruled out Mick Gregor," Penny had said. "He and Fiona outed themselves: apparently they've been seeing each other since Christmas."
"And he doesn't seem like the type to cheat," Bella mused. "They seem cute together."
The other two agreed.
"And you can count out Bart Taggart," Sam picked up. "That boy is flaming brighter than a rainbow bonfire."
Edward choked with wide eyes. Bart was gay?
"And it definitely can't be Ty Crowley or Ty Wilson," Samantha continued, ticking off the names on her fingers, pulling Edward back into their conversation. "Neither of them will go near Jess after the incident at Homecoming."
"And taking out all guys who are taken—" Bella started but she was cut off by Penny.
"Who said? Guys cheat."
"Jess is better than that," Bella replied with conviction, waving off her friend's statement. "So, that leaves Mike Newton, Greg Lee, and Edward Cullen."
It was at that moment when Edward had dropped his books in horror, causing the whole hallway to turn and look at him.
Bella – his Bella, his Thief – thought that he could possibly be the father of Jessica's unborn child? He wanted to vomit at the mere thought. Hadn't he told her just last week that he loved her?
"Come on, guys, pull it in!"
He was brought back to the present where Bart (Edward had no problems with the guy's sexual orientation, but he still couldn't yet look him in the eye without hearing Sam Stephen's voice in his head), in his capacity as team captain, had just finished his pregame pep talk.
"Who are we?" Bart yelled when all the boys had their hands in a pile.
"SPARTANS!" they all called out in return.
"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"
:: :: ::
"SPARTANS!" the cheerleaders yelled, running up and down the sidelines, trying to get the crowd riled up. It was the bottom of the ninth and the score was tied four-four. The other team's cheerleaders had tired themselves out by the fifth and the Spartan girls were taking advantage of it, doing routines, catching foul balls, and running through the stands to try and get the crowd vocal.
The image on the billboard-sized Jumbotron was switched from one player to the Forks High School Spartans logo, signalling next batter. Bella focused on not looking up to the large screen, but she had been here for most of the day and knew the Spartans' batting lineup by heart now. On the screen would be Edward's headshot along with his stats for the day, which were pretty good (if her father had taught her anything before he died, it was baseball).
"Cullen! Cullen! Cullen!" someone began chanting and Bella couldn't help but turn her head to the field.
He was so fucking sexy, all dressed up in his uniform and stretching out to bat.
His normally untameable hair was contained underneath a heather grey baseball cap, a few unruly locks sticking out from under the brim. The longsleeve shirt he wore hugged the muscles of his arms and chest and the pants were moulded to him so perfectly that it was hard to actually look away. Bella swore that she could see his ass cheeks clenching.
She watched him turn before he took to the plate, his eyes scanning the crowd for something or someone. The cheering of his name got louder and louder but, just as his eyes made contact with her own, all the sound in her ears seemed to stop and everything seemed to slow down.
"Bella." Though Edward was at least a good fifty yards away from her, Bella could hear him as if he were right next to her. She watched as he pointed his bat in her direction. "I love you."
:: :: ::
"That was fuckin' epic, man!"
"Are you freakin' kidding me? Cullen, you are a god!"
"Won the game, got the girl, is there nothing you can't do, Eds?"
Edward could feel the slight heat rising in his cheeks at all the praise. His shoulders were actually sore from all the slaps on the back he had received since late that afternoon.
After his declaration to Bella, he had stepped up to plate and proceeded to hit a double, moving their score up to six and winning them the game and the State Championship title. But it wasn't the prestige of winning that had his head in such a snit – it was, as always, Bella Swan, Thief Girl.
He hadn't stared long enough to gauge her reaction to his words at Husky Stadium and, once all was said and done and the game was over, he had been swept away with his team and with family and friends. But still, hours after the game, there was nothing. Edward had expected an indignant phone call or, if she was feeling particularly repulsed by what he had done, a scene at his front door wherein he would've most likely lost a testicle.
His parents had been generous enough to let him host the post-game party, opting to stay in Seattle for the rest of the weekend. So there he sat, on one corner of his couch, keeping a jovial face for his teammates and the throngs (if you could call the population of Forks a throng at all) of adoring Forks Spartans fans. But he couldn't help but be confused. Wasn't a declaration like that supposed to garner some sort of reaction?
:: :: ::
"What. The. Fuck! Bella, he LOVES you!"
Bella still couldn't wrap her head around what had happened that afternoon. The rest of the game had passed in a haze; though she knew Forks had won, she wasn't sure on the details of how. She was still caught up in that moment, her brain replaying Edward's declaration over and over again. In her mind's eye, she scrutinized every single detail: the creases of his pants down his thighs until they flattened out at his dirt and grass stained knees, the way the black batting helmet sat slightly askew on his head as if his perpetually unruly hair was trying to escape, the way his muscled forearm flexed as he raised his bat and pointed it directly at her…
"Jesus fuck, Bella! Give us the details!"
Bella just shrugged in the faces of her friends. They had tried to surround her on the bus but, since they had to share transportation with the marching band, she had managed to sequester herself in a corner behind some brass instruments. But the second they were back in the school's parking lot, Bella had found herself being pushed into someone's car and then into Rosalie Hale's bedroom.
Bella shrugged. "There aren't any details to give."
"BULLSHIT!" the girls chorused, all turning to stare at her accusingly.
"It's not!" Bella held up her hands in surrender. "We've barely spoken in almost five or six years and all of a sudden he's coming out of nowhere with all this. I swear!"
"Wow," Jessica chimed in, a sour look on her face as she laid face down on the bed. "Creepy stalker much."
"Shut up, Jess," Penny chided from where she was dabbing on makeup at Rose's vanity table. "I think it's sweet."
"Whatever," Bella mumbled and reached for the tube of clear mascara sticking out of her makeup case. "So whose party are we going to, anyways?"
:: :: ::
Soft, buttery yellow sunlight filtered through Edward's eyelids and, with a slight groan, he rolled on to his stomach and forced his eyes open. Instead of being met with the usual expanse of ocean blue bed sheets, his eyes fell upon an impressive tangle of cherry-brown.
Though the tresses were caught up in the tangles and snarls of sleep, the muted light coming from his bedroom window brought out the red tones in Bella's hair, giving her an aura similar to the flush of her skin just as she was about to come.
It stunned Edward in that moment that he – of all people! he thought – knew what Bella Swan looked like as she was falling completely apart and he shifted his position until one of his arms was curled around her still sleeping form.
Memories from the night before played through his head. It all seemed more fitting as the storyline to a bad teen romance movie than real life – let alone his life – and, admittedly, he was still reeling just a little bit. He never could predict what Bella's reaction would be to anything, so when he had declared his love for her out loud (very loudly, he mused, cringing slightly) and in public (very publicly, he admitted with another little wince); he had assumed that she would throttle him the second he stepped off the baseball diamond.
But when he saw her standing on his porch with a blush painting her cheek, everything else went straight out the window. Her friends had filtered into the house but there he was, alone with her.
"Did you mean it?" she asked, staring down at her shoes. The toe of one of her sparkly flats bounced off the porch rail repeatedly and he watched as the light bounced off the rhinestones or glitter or whatever it was that made the footwear shine.
And just like that, as he watched her all small and shy before him, he knew that this was his Thief. The girl who had stolen his baseball and then proceeded to steal his heart.
"Did you mean it?" she repeated, sounding a little less sure.
"Of course I meant it."
And then he had taken her upstairs, party be damned. Amid whistles and wolfcalls, he bypassed every single person in his house and had carried her up to his third floor bedroom, laying her on the bed and kissing her senseless.
This was new, kissing Bella. It was something absolutely astounding to him. She was warm and responsive and all girl underneath him as she moaned into his mouth, her little hands with the strong, strong fingers twining themselves into his hair. He had never imagined doing this with Bella, his Thief, before. Sure, he had had his fair share of fantasies, but they were always nameless, faceless female forms. But, he realized as his fingers began toying with the buttons of her shirt-dress thingy, all his fantasies were now complete. Complete because of Bella.
"Edw-Edward," she stuttered out breathlessly as he moved his lips from her mouth to the divot where her neck and shoulder met. He laved the skin there with his tongue and teeth, nibbling gently as she rocked her hips against his thigh.
"So good," she sighed.
Her fingers began to play at the buttons withholding her from him and Edward pulled back to watch the slow, silent striptease. Her fingers moved at an excruciating pace, pushing each little pearl through the denim placket and his gaze flickered between her eyes and the peach-toned flesh being bared to him.
Finally, finally, the buttons came undone and Edward slowly peeled back the halves of the fabric like her was unpeeling the most delicate fruit. What Edward found inside the thin denim was enough to make him almost come in his pants. He couldn't help himself as he leaned down and immediately brought his lips to her throat then planting kisses on whatever skin he could reach. He felt Bella shift underneath him and then he felt the lace of her bra rest slackly against his face.
Looking up at her, Edward raised a shaking hand. He cursed the nervous tremors running through him but, before he could even blink, Bella had shrugged out of her bra and tossed it to the floor. Edward couldn't help but stare in amazement.
"Edward?"
Meeting Bella's eyes, Edward felt the heat of embarrassment come over him as her eyes asked the vital question.
Is this your first time?
He nodded in answer to her silent question. By the set of her surprised eyebrows he could just tell this wasn't her first time.
"Edward," she said gently, drawing a finger down his cheek. "We don't have to—"
"I want to," he said quietly, trying to convince her not with his words, but with the sincerity in his eyes. I want it to be you, he tried to convey, staring straight into the dark brown pools he had come to know so well from afar after all these years.
She must have read him properly because a small smile graced her face and she nodded almost imperceptibly. He continued his exploration of her body, especially fascinated with how her skin broke out in goosebumps when he breathed over it, then even more enthralled with how her nipples tightened into taut peaks with just the gentlest brush of his lips.
"More," she gasped, grabbing the back of his head with one hand and pulling him closer. "You can touch some more."
So he did. He let her guide him to her chest and he began to experiment, testing out rhythms and patterns, intensities and pressures against her and gauging her approval with her moans and how hard she ground her hips again his now impossibly hard erection.
He didn't know how long he spent reveling in her warm, pink skin. In his opinion, it wasn't long enough. But Bella tugged on his unruly hair until he was staring up at her from where he hovered above her stomach..
"You love me?"
Edward leaned forward and kissed the sweet tasting skin between her breasts before dancing his lips further down her abdomen.
"Yes," he whispered when he reached her belly-button. He nuzzled the pucker of skin lightly before traversing further south, stopping only when his lips met the elastic border of her lacy, green panties. He lifted his hands so he could peel them off but before he could get any further she stopped him, pulling him on his shoulder. He rose and covered her body with his own.
"You love me?" she asked again, the look in her eyes anxious, as if his answer would've changed.
"I love you," he reassured, silencing her with his lips. He let his right hand drift down until his fingers were stroking the soft, satin skin just below her navel and, as her body shifted in want, his fingers stroked lower. Then he felt warmth and wetness, like liquid silk against his fingers.
"I want you," Bella breathed, tugging at his shirt. The clinking sound of buttons hitting the hardwood tinkled through the room and then she was pushing off his jersey. He sat up and removed his undershirt next and then her hands were pulling at his pants then his boxer briefs, pushing them off of him before he could even realize what she was doing.
And then he was naked.
He wanted to be nervous. He really did. But he couldn't when she was spread out all glorious and perfect before him. And, by the look in her eye, she felt just as naked as he did.
He couldn't have asked for more.
Leaning over to his nightstand, he reached for the condoms his father had left there (Carlisle was adamant about birth control; he had just replaced the old box three weeks ago) and pulled one out. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he was surprised when he felt the wrapped prophylactic leave his hand. He watched, stunned, as Bella opened the packaging, pulled out the condom and rolled it on his length.
"Relax, Sped," she giggled breathily, pulling him down until they were lined up from head to toe. She reached up and kissed him, letting her lips soothe him, distracting him from whatever nerves lingered in his head. Her little, warm hands traversed his body as he held himself over her, working the skin until he was so blissed out that he felt as if he could float away. Then her hands reached down, holding him, guiding him to an even higher peak of bliss.
Stars went off behind his eyelids as he felt her body wrap itself around his.
He had never felt anything so absolutely perfect before.
"You can move," Bella whisper-giggled, rotating her hips slowly underneath him. The sensation zinged through him and his left hand flew to her waist to hold her still.
"If I do," he gasped through clenched teeth, "this will be over."
Finally, after what felt like eons later, the urgency in him died and Edward began to move. Short experimental thrusts at first that then morphed to long and hard, Edward learning what Bella liked by the way she coached him with her stuttered words and moans.
"More," she breathed as the sweat dripped from his brow. She took his hand and placed it just above where they were joined. "Here."
Her fingers entwined with his began to stroke in circular motions until she could barely move, just the heaving of her breasts as she panted and the sharp curve of her spine as she arched up into him, into the pleasure he was giving her. Despite the dimness of the moonlight, he could still see the flush of her skin in its glow as she rode the wave of pleasure
"I… Ooh, Edward… I love you."
And that was all it took for him to follow her into oblivion.
Edward stroked a finger up and down her cheek, not trying to wake her but trying to reassure himself that this, that she in his bed, was actually real.
"Mmm..?"
He couldn't help but tense up when he realized he had awakened her. What would she say? What would she do? Would she regret… being with him? Was it a one time thing? Did she not mean it when she said…?
"Edward?"
"Morning," he croaked, cursing himself in his head for sounding like a twelve year old caught masturbating for the first time. He cleared his throat as quietly as possible before repeating himself. "G'morning."
He relaxed slightly when she stretched, elongating her lithe body against his, and then let out a small, satisfied sigh.
"Morning," she whispered, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were heavy with sleep but he felt as if he could see clear, straight into her soul as he stared into her molten brown depths.
There were so many questions in his head, all swirling around in his brain and fighting to come out of his mouth at the same time. Bella must have seen that because she simply raised up on her elbow and cupped his cheek.
"I love you, Sped."
The breath he didn't know he was holding escaped him as relief flooded through him.
"I love you, too, Thief."