Hey everyone, it's SARAH from the joint account .browneyedbeautyy- and I'm reposting this story onto this account and I'm sure you all know why.
Anyways, I have changed a few things but it's not exactly necessary to read the first couple of chapters again... but it would be a little helpful.
I am continuing this story by myself from now on because Kate is currently on hiatus and I have big plans for this story and this story is something
I really want to continue writing so I hope I can do this and I need your support :)
About the story:
Unless you don't like angsty stories (though I promise it won't be too angst), or stories where drinking and cussing is involved I advise you don't read on because I don't appreciate
heavy critisism so I'm warning you now. This story will involve cussing and you will figure out who has the foul mouth later on. To read this story you need an open mind because
the characters will be somewhat OOC and again, I don't appreciate major flammage. I'm really into the whole bad ass character type thing so don't be surprised when I use
words like fuck and dipshit more than three times in one sentence. I find it humorous and if you don't then this isn't the story for you. I don't mean to sound like a bxtchy school
girl and all but I just wanted to clear this out because last time I started a story with Edward being all bad ass, the reviews weren't pleasant and I don't want to have to delete
this story like I did to the other one. And I'm probably boring the shit out of you but hey, I gotta do what I gotta do right?
And I think you all should know that I like being sarcastic and I'm an outgoing person so most of these author note trash is going to involve colourful language because that's
how I am :) So don't think I'm being mean or any shenanigans like that. And if you've read up until this part, good for you. We'll be great friends :D
So anyways here's the important tingz about this story. It's ALL HUMAN. Alice is still perky, Emmett's still freakishly large, Jasper...he's going to be different ;), Edward will be less
depressive and more...out there, Bella will still be the stubborn chick that she is with a sense of humour, Charlie will still have his shotgun around in case Edward pisses him off
and Rosalie is still the bxtchy school girl and uhh I don't know if Jake's going to be here. I think I'm just writing nonsense and boring the crap out of you.
SUMMARY: How about you just read the story to find out what the hell it's about ? :) Kidding.
Real summary: (Long story short) Bella develops a friendship with her lanky musician neighbour after three years of living next to him and somewhere in between their laughter,
hanging out at the venues Edward and Emmett perform at, late night outs, early morning phone calls and spending way too much time with Edward, Bella being the clumsy
girl she is falls in love with Edward Cullen and she plans on confessing it during their night out at prom. And when she's about to have a confab with Edward, he's missing.
Edward and Bella deal with the hardest obstacle in life-- struggling to be together but nothing can work out. How will they deal with the fact that Edward's her guardian angel
and there's nothing they can do unless Bella joins him? What happens next?
I swear it sounds ten times better than my screwed up summary. Please give it a chance? :)
I've always heard of it- this particular theme, an emotion everyone feels. I've seen it before on television shows, movies and even photographs displayed on the internet or magazines. This theme always came up in the novels I read. Whether it was for a family member or a friend. This emotion, I see, is flaunted by hugs, kisses and even the littlest smiles. Some describe the feeling by the slightest beam of the eyes. You know, when he or she passes by or even the call of their name, you get all warm and fuzzy and you look up at this person, your heart racing, with the joyous look you could put on. Because you love them. That's what this feeling was, love.
I was postive I was in love with this boy and I mentally slapped myself on the cheek everyday making it all bright red again- not that I needed help with that- for not realizing it earlier. For not bothering to look at him. Not even once. In the hallways, I knew he always passed by me but, I never looked up. Or when he would take his seat next to me in biology class, I never quite spoke to him and the craziest part was not even taking a peak through my window while he stood there in his room like most girls did. I'd just slide my curtains closed, hiding myself from the boy next door. The one who I apprently loved, but I just didn't know it at the time.
Until that day. The very first day I noticed how peircing his emerald eyes were through those long lashes. How pale his skin was. Like the paper I scribble my pen around. How his smile was slightly curled to one side, how odd it was, but beautiful in that way.
I didn't know what I'd gotten myself into either. It was like love at first sight. I didn't believe it then. Until that day.
CHAPTER ONE: Love Is Patient
BPOV
It's another cloudy, rainy day in Forks, Washington I notice while I climb out of bed, but I'm not surprised. I know what to expect. Sun was hardly ever welcome in this small town. It's as if the rain clouds built some sort of wall like they were enemies of some sorts. Nothing is ever bright here. Not even the glow of the trees I pass by on my way to school or even surrounding my neighbourhood. The leaves are a dull green colour. The grass is hardly living and the flowers never bloom. You would think nature here is scared out of their mind or think what I did the first day I'd come here. A ghost town.
Unlike Forks, Phoenix is full of sunshine and vibrant colours. Flowers stand straight and tall in every garden you pass by. The trees are a nice light green colour and the sky is always a clear blue. It hardly ever rains in Phoenix. Funny how I ended up living in an area so opposite of where I spent most of my life growing up.
I almost gave in moving here with Charlie when I'd remembered the weather. But then again, I never care for the weather. Hot or cold, sunny or not, why did it matter? It's just weather. And rain couldn't kill me. However, if it were to rain a flood, that was a different story. The sun couldn't do harm to me either. I was always pale. Since the very first day I was born.
My alarm clock rang still making me jump about an inch up from my bed. Now-a-days I'd wake up earlier than the alarm set and still be surprised when it rings so loud and clear.
I get out of bed five minutes later leaving the purple comforters Charlie bought me since the day I moved here- three years ago- messy and undone. I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth not even bothering with my hair. I never hassle with my hair. There's never anything good about it. All it did was stay pin straight and never even curl when it rained as Jessica's hair did.
"Oh my Gucci!" she'd scream out holding her hands up letting the rain hit her palm. "My hair!" she'd shriek while making an attempt to run to her emerald green "punch buggy", slipping on her way there. Sometimes she ends up falling flat on her bum resulting in soaked clothing. Angela and I just stand there and laugh like the good friends we are but we can't help it when the third Amiga is a Malibu Barbie living in a town that completely takes away the habit of dressing up like the sun.
Wardrobe is never a problem for me either. All I ever wear are whatever pair of jeans I can find- today is dark wash- and a t-shirt appropriate for school. Appropriate as in no camp names written on it or blobs of stains all over. I never let Renee buy me the kinds of shirts she wants me to start wearing.
"It'll show off your Mary-Kate and Ashley's!" she exclaimed when she'd picked up a see-through red low neck top at a store she and I knew we couldn't afford. I simply shook my head at her and told her I'd wait for her outside. Clearly, I'm much of a shopper. For clothing anyway.
I manage to find a decent blue long-sleeve knit sweater suitable for today's weather. It's a bit chilly than the other days which I love because that meant I could wear a sweater. I love sweaters.
Charlie's already gone by the time I'm finished getting ready. I pop some pop tarts in the toaster and pick up my old "Wuthering Heights" copy off the kitchen table where I mostly did my reading. I'm a sucker for the classics. What do you know, I hate shopping and I'm a bookworm. That's totally attractive.
There are three earsplitting honks coming from the window outside my living room. I walk over to it forgetting what the honks were for. As soon as I slide a part of the curtain off to the side to get a peak, the bronze haired boy that lives next door is walking out of the house and climbing through the window of the passenger side of a mountainous jeep belonging to a well-built boy. I don't know his name but I know he's a senior, dating the captain of the volleyball team. She's my age and again, I don't know her name.
Today there is another addition to their "group". A small girl who looks young yet old at the same time runs out of the same house and climbs in the backseat beside the blond girl- the same one who's dating the well-built boy. She looks back at me before they drive off and the second our eyes meet- dark brown and hazel it looks like-I slide the curtain back completely hiding myself from the tiny girl.
Weird.
Ten minutes later, just on time, there's a loud honk from outside my house again. This time it wasn't a short "beep, beep, beep" like the previous one sounded like. This honk is like a tune. I don't know how to describe it, but it's very Jessica like. She likes to have her things custom designed.
I grab my book bag and swing it over my right shoulder quickly slipping on my tennis shoes before grabbing a jacket off the hanger. I lock the door and take careful movements down the four steps I'm going down and I happen to slip off the last one and fall flat on my bum. Luckily, my hands caught my fall completely saving me from another bumache.
When I open the back door of Jessica's punch buggy, they're already in giggles.
"How's the ground like today?" Angela asks me looking at me through the front mirror. I shoot her a look. She always asks the same question every morning. I don't know why I can't drive myself to school. I have a truck.
Angela ignores the glare coming from me and Jessica drives ahead the second I buckle my seatbelt. She's wild, but she knows about safety. Angela clears her throat, our discussion clearly not over. It's never over until one of us does justice. Talk about supreme court.
"Soft." I roll my eyes in the back looking out the window and wishing I hadn't inherited the clumsy side of my mother. I always wish I'm as strong as Charlie, brave even. Renee and I share emotional traits and I hate that. I always cry at the sad part in books, even movies.
"What are you so smiley about?" Angela snorts to Jess. Jess comes to a stop at the only stoplight in Forks and blows a puff of air- all dramatically. Angela rolls her eyes, noticing. Angela and I always scoff at Jess for being so Malibu-like.
"What? Is being happy against the law?" she says in her annoyed tone. She fidgets through her seat as if she's looking for something, but Angela and I know it's her way of making things a little less awkward for herself. She finally settles with asking me for her bag which she always keeps on the floor behind her seat and takes out her "school lipstick" which is the same colour- but different shade, she'd like to say- as her "home lipstick" and "hot weather lipstick" and "party lipstick". She wants to seem "funky" and "flirty" for all occasions. Like the hot weather or her own home cares if her lips are a lighter shade than the day before.
"I'm just asking." Angela scoffs, putting down her mirror to check her nose for dry skin. Angela has always been self-conscious about her skin being dry all the time that one day she'd gone on the internet and flipped through magazines to read other girls' recommendations for America's number one brand of moisturizer. I watch as Angela digs through her make-up case (although it doesn't exactly consist of make-up) and applies liquid foundation and then another layer of moisturizer. She rubs her fingers gently across her nose while examining it in the 5x mirror Jessica bought her that basically says, "Stop using my car mirrors". You could say that Jessica Stanley, a good friend of mine since freshman year, is easily annoyed by the slightest of things and well, it was true.
"I was just thinking about prom." Jess shrugs her shoulder as if it were no big deal using that daydream voice of hers. I could easily point out that she's picturing herself coming out of a stretch limo hand-in-hand with Mike Newton. "I mean, wouldn't it be cool if Mike asks me to prom? That would totally make my life." She smiles all sweetly then presses her foot against the gas pedal when the stoplight changes from red to green. How I'd known what she's thinking didn't mean I'm a psychic. Jess is just easy to figure out and she's only been talking about junior prom since the day I met her.
"If he doesn't ask you out soon I'm going to go ballistic and maybe knock some sense into that idiot's head." I laugh along with Angela. When I'd first met Angela she was the shy, quiet type, but over the years I'd really gotten to know her, she wasn't all innocent after all. She's like a lily being planted in the nasty Forks weather and that one hot day, the day she'd been waiting for, she'd bloomed.
"Love is patient." Jess states with her "matter-of-fact" voice. She pulls onto the student parking lot of Forks High. Home of the Spartans- aren't we scary? With our cloth underwear and cheap swords? She sounds as if she's not only reminding Angela but also, herself. I only roll my eyes at her new phrase because it sounds as though she's been reading too many post break-up hand books. Even if she's not in that state but, she feels like it she claims.
"But love never takes that long to come around. You've been crushing on Mike since fifth grade Jess. If love was really on your side, he would have had some sense to ask you out at our big seventh grade dance!" Angela's becoming angry by the second. She's always so annoyed about Jess' adoration for Mike all these years. Especially the fact that she hadn't done anything about it. She was tired of hearing stories like "So today, Mike asked me for a pencil and he, like, totally had one sticking out his binder!" or "Mike actually said hi to me today when I passed by him in the hallway. I think something's about to happen. I can feel it."
"Why don't you just go up to him and ask him out already!"
"Helloooo," Jess waves her hand around in that sing-song voice of hers as we get out of the car. "Mike is supposed to be the one asking me out. Not the other way around. It's how it's supposed to go."
"Not all the time. Just do it."
"Then I'd look desperate!" Jess pouts, folding her hands across her chest.
"What else is new?" Angela half screams at her. "You are desperate! That should be your new nickname! Am I right Bella?"
I turn bright red when the two of them swing their heads around to look at me. Jess with pleading eyes and Angela with a look that says "just agree and we can get out of here". I assumed they'd forgotten I was even standing here.
"I should go to class now. I don't want to be-"
"Oh quit it Ms. I-want-to-win-the-perfect-attendance-award." Jess rolls her eyes at me meanwhile Angela gives a light slap on her shoulder indicating she needs to shut up and walk away.
"Excuse me?" I scoff. "I don't want to win that award. Is there even an award like that? And at least I am not in love with a boy that hardly notices me." I didn't mean to sound harsh but, apparently I did. It's written all over Jess' face.
"For your information, Mike and I do talk and he does notice me." She gives Angela and I one last look before turning around on her heel and walks away with her heels clinking against the wet ground.
Angela just looks at me. "I didn't mean to." I say all of a sudden feeling guilty.
"I know. She'll get over it. It's Jess." She sends me a soft smile. And it does make it a little better knowing Angela is right. She'll get over it.
"Mr. Cullen," Mr. Molina says in that tone he always uses when he's not pleased with something and I don't have to shoot my head up from where I'm doodling on my notebook while Mr. Molina rants on about the male and female reproductive system to know that Edward's late again. "One more late and you will be serving a week of detention."
The next thing I feel is the presence of the bronze haired boy I've been sitting with for the past few months or so. He pulls out the chair carelessly letting it squeak as he pushes in. I've gotten used to his attitude. Next came the thud of his binder and textbook along with the slam of his elbow being rested on top of the desk and then the clearing of his throat before giving Mr. Molina a reply.
"What's your excuse this time Mr. Cullen?"
"I'd like to tell you Mr. Molina but you see, the thing is, the government has sworn me to secrecy." Came from the soft, velvety voice next to me. "But I understand completely." But the thing is, he doesn't understand because that's what he said last week when he came in twenty minutes before the end of the period claiming he had something important to take care of after Mr. Molina threatened him with lunch detentions everyday rather than after school.
"I wish you do Mr. Cullen." He raises his eyebrow at him through his glasses completely ignoring Edward's brilliant excuse. Half the class was giggling behind us.
"Pop quiz everyone!" his voice goes from aggravated to sarcastic cheerful as everyone groans and moves their binders to the side. He makes his way down the rows passing two sheets to each lab desk.
"What's wrong Cullen?" Mr. Molina askes, his eyebrow raised- I think it's a habit of his- stopping in front of Edward. Edward sits back, his eyes down on the paper.
"Can't do it." He says, exasperated. I bit the bottom of my lip to keep from laughing because Mr. Molina looks as though he wants to explode. He and Edward always had this unexplained problem with each other I can't help but wonder if Mr. Molina ever goes home crying and complaining to his wife.
"And why is that?" Clearly Mr. Molina was over the top annoyed but he has to deal with Edward because he's his student after all and the teachers are all about helping. I bet he regrets going down the teacher's path.
"I don't have a pencil." I bend my head a little closer to the paper so that my hair is like a wall between us hiding my face. I roll my eyes instead of laughing while I write my name at the top and the date of today. Friday April 24, exactly three weeks till prom. I'm sure Jess has it marked on her calendar.
Mr. Molina blows a puff of air, clearly annoyed yet again. "I'm sure Ms. Swan can lend you one. Be mature about it Edward." And with that, he walks back up to his desk. "You may begin." He tells the class.
"How can I without a pencil?" Edward raises his hands all dramatically and Mr. Molina just ignores him. Edward mutters a few words under his breath that I can't point out but I'm sure it's something unpleasant.
Like most people they'd hand Edward a pencil without him asking because they listen to the conversation and by handing him a pencil, it would admit to that. But I'm not like that. I'm easily embarrassed.
Like this one time Edward had the same incident except he had no paper to write down the note on the overhead and like this time, Mr. Molina told him to ask me but, he didn't because I'd already handed him the sheet of paper and received a look that said "eavesdropper". I know I was sitting right there, the conversation loud and clear, but I don't like to be labeled. But I bet he doesn't even notice. Strange how guys can shrug anything off- like the time I accidentally kissed this guys shoulder while giving him a goodbye hug back in Phoenix. I walked home bright red and told my mother about it just to share the embarrassment. And he didn't even notice it when I'd asked him the next day- and girls can keep on thinking about it. Never letting it slip.
When Edward doesn't ask right away, I start reading the questions and writing down answers. Five minutes passes and already I'm on the tenth question out of fifteen. Mr. Molina's pop quizzes are always easy. They're questions like "name one part of the female reproductive system". I have a feeling Edward's staring at me as if he's waiting for me to tuck my hair behind my ear, turn around and give him my pencil.
When I'm done the quiz about another five minutes later I walk up to Mr. Molina and hand him my paper. When I turn back Edward's staring at my part of the table. I follow his gaze to the yellow writing tool positioned in between our chairs. His stare is so intense as if he's working magic to bring the pencil to him without having to pick it up. If I don't know any better I would've laughed. The scene just looks strangely humorous.
I walk back to my seat with a small, goofy smile. I sit nice and tall with my hands folded innocently in front of me and stare straight at the whiteboard. Mr. Molina's legs lay on top of his desk, reading the newspaper and the other students are already handing in their papers while Edward remains sitting there staring at his blank one.
I allow myself one glance- just to see if he's still staring at my pencil- and he is. I wait for him to say something, but he doesn't. He just sits there staring at it as if is a villain. So I shake my head slightly then clear my throat. He doesn't look up.
"Um," I can feel my cheeks warming up. I look back down re-making the curtain. "Do you need something?"
"Would you happen to have a pencil you could lend me for a few minutes?" he says all gentleman like. I couldn't help but smile. Would you happen to have a pencil? He knows I have one. I caught him staring at it at least three times already.
"Nope." I purposely pop the "p" just to see Edward's reaction and of course he's irritated.
"You have one right there." He points to it and I decide to fool around.
"Where?" I pretend like I don't see it and Edward's making all these sighing noises it's kind of funny. I look at the clock and there are only a few more minutes until class is over and Edward's paper is still blank. Well it's his fault he's not prepared for class.
Instead of saying anything he just grabs my pencil and I thought for a second he was going to stab it into my eye. I don't know what Edward Cullen is capable of but I know by his slightly bad attitude he can hurt a fly.
Every time he stops to read a question he'd roll the pencil back and forth between his hands that rests on either side of the paper. He'd roll it so that the pencil would roll across the paper and back. It isn't the noise that bugs me or the fact that he'd do it every two seconds but, the fact that he can't talk to me or ask me for one simple thing like a pencil.
Is it so hard to talk to me? I wonder if it's only him who finds it difficult. I mean, I can tolerate my language if people don't like it- especially with Charlie because he doesn't exactly know his daughter likes to have a foul mouth sometimes- and I think I'm not scary looking and all so what's so difficult?
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