All Good Things
Summary:
Bella soon realises that she can't spend the rest of her life clinging onto Jacob. But when she meets Seth, that doesn't seem to be much of a problem anymore. 4 years isn't really that much of an age-gap, right? Wrong. Bella tries to do the right thing, but knows that she'll eventually give in to stop herself from hurting Seth. Meanwhile, Paul has to try to fix his past if he wants to get his imprint to even speak to him. But is he really willing to change that much for one girl? For love?
Bella:
I don't know why I found myself there, sitting at the foot of Long Beach. I should have been at Jacob's, helping- or watching- him finish the bikes. It would have been better for me to be at Jacob's- I knew that if I spent so much more time away, Charlie would begin to notice differences. But sometimes I felt as though I was smothering the boy, being over every spare second I had. Perhaps if I spaced out our time together, he wouldn't get bored of me so quickly. Like everyone always did. Like they did.
I winced and wrapped my arms around my chest, trying desperately to shut the agonising, gaping wound there. Then I cursed myself. You'd think that I'd know by now not to think about anything remotely related to them, let alone them. But I never learned. My mind couldn't help but wonder back to the people that I loved so dearly- the people who I had thought loved me back.
A slapping noise followed by a bunch of jeering broke me out of my little pity party. Further along the beach, there was a volley ball net set up with a bunch of boys on either side. They were hitting the ball back and forth, laughing gleefully and shoving each other around.
One of them was considerably taller and more muscled than the rest. After a while of squinting, I made him out to be Seth Clearwater. I remembered the mini spaghetti party that had been held a few weeks back, and smiled. Seth was only 14- the son of Charlie's best friend, Harry Clearwater. I had taken a liking to him and his contagious grin immediately. It was almost like Jake's, but somehow completely different in a way that I couldn't explain.
I watched him run up and down the beach for a while, out of pure curiosity. Athletic as he looked, he was all lanky and gangly. It made me smile a little. I wondered if he was in the grade below Jacob, or the one below that. Probably sensing my heavy stare on his back, Seth turned in my direction. When he spotted me he waved, turned back to his friends to tell them something, then began to jog over. I sat up and brushed the sand off of my hands.
Though it was a pretty long distance, he wasn't out of breath in the slightest when he arrived next to me.
"Hello Bella."
"Hey, Seth."
He grinned down at me and I couldn't help but let out a little giggle. He seemed pleased with himself for doing that.
"Wanna come and join us? I'm sure the guys won't mind."
I scoffed. "Thanks, but I have the worst hand-eye coordination you've ever seen."
"Can't be that bad."
"Trust me, you haven't seen me in gym."
Seth considered it for a while, then shrugged. "You can be ref then. They're all cheating rats, we could definitely use you." He offered his hand to help me up, and I took it. Though he was four years younger, he was easily 6 inches taller than me. I frowned- what in hell were they feeding these kids? And he was certainly way too young to be gaining all those muscles- I couldn't help but notice how chiselled his jaw had become.
I made him walk back over to the game, but he didn't seem to mind. He chatted on about the different teams and who was who, and I actually found myself listening. I decided that Seth was the sweetest boy in the world for the offer.
"Hey guys, this is Bella. She's ref, so no more cheating, or she's gonna kick your ass."
A few of them took in my size and snickered, but I scared the puny 14 year olds away with the dead look in knew I still had inside of me. Though Jake and I had worked to make it fade, I could still pull it back up unnervingly easily. Sometimes, pushing things away and distracting yourself didn't help the issue. I didn't really see any other option for myself, though.
Seth squeezed my hand- which I hadn't realised he was still holding- and gave me a reassuring smile. I walked over to the edge of the net and pretended to know what was going on. I didn't make it to Jacob's that day.
Paul:
I winced against the blaring music and the flashing lights. My senses had been pretty sensitive lately, and I often found myself cringing away from loud noises and particularly pungent smells. I scanned the room quickly, trying pick her out from the crowds. I eventually came across her posy, and it was impossible not to spot her right in the middle of the small crowd.
She had let her hair down, and I watched from a distance when she swept it out of the way as strands of it fell down onto her face. She had her arms thrown up above her head and her hips moving in beat to whatever song was playing. Her and her friends knew every single lyric- belting along like 13 yr olds at a school disco.
A short, black, off-the-shoulder dress embraced her slender frame. I didn't fail to notice how the material clung and strained against the curves and dips of her body. The high heels added some height to her pathetic 5"6. They certainly helped to highlight her legs- the muscled, toned, legs of an athlete.
Anger bubbled up inside of me- a familiar feeling. Or perhaps is was irritation. Or frustration. I couldn't really tell the difference anymore.
But I did know that it was the anger that forced me over there. Forced me to plaster that over-used, cocky, arrogant smirk on my face that would make her just as agitated as I was.
"What do you want, Lahote?" She asked in a cutting tone. I felt the side of my mouth twitch upwards. The carefree smile that had once lit up her face was long-gone, replaced with a glare just as sharp as her voice.
"Don't be like that, sweetheart. It's a party. Why don't you let me join in on the fun?" My voice came out much gravellier than I'd expected it to, and she looked taken aback that I had even replied to her in the first place. All of her friends- there must have been at least 6 or 7 of them- were looking between the both of us frantically, clearly wondering if they should let the situation play out or butt in.
"Fuck off home. No one wants you here." I hadn't expected her to speak so coldly.
I felt a tremor of anger rock through my body. I leaned into her, and gripped her waist to stop her from moving. I expected more of a fight, but she stayed deadly still. "I'm sure many of your girls here would disagree with that." I whispered. I smirked with satisfaction when she shivered slightly.
"If you think making me jealous is going to get me back into your pants, then you're mistaken."
"So you admit it- the thought of me fucking one (or more) of your friends makes you jealous." I leaned back and smirked in triumph.
She scowled when she realised her mistake. "Fuck. The hell. Off."
More tremors wracked through me, and my body started to ache with them. I made a disgruntled grunting noise. I considered staying for a while to push my luck, but thought better of it. I wouldn't put it past that girl to report me for sexual harassment or some shit.
Making her jealous hadn't even occurred to me yet, but I was thankful that she'd put the idea in my head. I guess it was because I'd never had to resort to such extreme measures.
I don't know what it was about Taylor Avery, but once I set my sights on her, I couldn't set them back on any other girl. She knew it, I knew it. I'd first met her when Forks and La Push had done a crossover chemistry class, since supplies were so limited. We'd totally hit it off. She had been my partner, and it's safe to say that not much work was done that day. At the end of that same week, we'd reunited at a party. We were both drunk, and to put it bluntly, we were both horny, 16-year-old virgins.
Taylor had been my first time. Minus the fumbling and blushing, it was pretty freaking awesome. I hadn't even been a dick about getting into her pants so quickly the next morning. She seemed pretty damn happy.
But then I guess one of her friends told her about my tainted reputation, or something like that. Even though she'd been the one to give me her number, she refused to pick up my calls. Taylor avoided me like the plague, and her tongue became unbearably acidic when I did manage to get a hold on her. Girls these days. Ugh.
I wasn't ashamed to say that though Taylor had been my first, she wasn't my last. I seemed to have my way with girls, even those much older. That was probably partly because I looked a good few years older than I actually was. Though as the weeks drew on, my desire to be with other girls lessened, and the desire to give Taylor another thorough fucking intensified. She was as bitter as always, though.
Surely, me being with other people would just drive her away? But I wasn't thinking clearly that night, so I ground against the first girl that showed any interest- which didn't take long- and tried desperately to not look back at Taylor. She was blonde- pale, like most people here in Washington. She wore killer 6-inch heels and a skirt so short that I was pretty sure I could see one of her butt-cheeks poking out from underneath it. Rather than turning me on when she smashed her lips against mine, I felt sick to my stomach. More of the painful tremors coursed down my body, and I shoved her away as quickly as I could. I stumbled blindly towards the exit- all the noises, smells, sounds and brightness of everything increased. I gasped in the cool, night air when I finally found my way out. I practically fell onto the ground, and put my head between my legs, trying to clear the spots from my vision and stop the shakes.
"What the hell was that?" Called out an all too familiar voice. I groaned in response. "You knocked that girl over onto the floor, Lahote."
"Don't care." I panted. It was the truth.
I was even more surprised when she came over to sit next to me. "We should probably get you over to the hospital. You're shaking like crazy." She pushed the back of her hand up against my neck- I could practically feel her wince. "You're burning up, too."
"No. No hospital- I've just gotta get home." Something told me that I needed to be in La Push. I turned my head slightly to find her looking down at me with a genuinely concerned expression. Her face was lit up by the street lights. She was wearing more makeup than usual- she didn't need it. I wandered what her reaction would be if I said that out loud.
"I guess I'll drive you then." She decided, clearly trying to sound annoyed at me, but failing.
I didn't argue with her, knowing that even if I was my usual self, I probably wouldn't win.
Taylor begrudgingly offered her shoulder for me to lean on, and I took it as graciously as I could. Once I had lead her over to my car, I put the keys into her free hand and hobbled over to the passenger seat. I noted that the tremors had stopped, but I still felt like every bone in my body was slowly being broken. Though that didn't make much sense, since the pain was gradual- getting worse by the minute- and not all of a sudden.
Taylor started the car up and began to manoeuvre out of the parking-lot.
"Don't you need directions?" I asked weekly, completely leaning against the seat. My pride was taking a huge blow with her seeing me like this.
She bit her full lip, and kept her eyes on the road. "I remember the way."
The rest of the journey home was filled with few words, but somehow managed to be the opposite of awkward. By the time she pulled into my driveway I was starting to feel a hell of a lot better.
"Will your dad be home?" She asked.
"Business trip."
"God, he really shouldn't leave you alone as much. I can only imagine half of the shit you get yourself into."
I managed a smile. "He couldn't stop me even if he was sitting right next to me."
Taylor looked as if she were about to say something but stopped. She pressed her lips together then jumped out of the car, coming around to the other side to help me out.
"I think I can manage to get out of the car by myself."
She raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow and pouted at me. "Has your ego been damaged one too many times tonight?"
"More than one." I admitted, earning myself half a smile. "But actually, I'm feeling much better."
She narrowed her icy-blue eyes. "I swear to God, Lahote, if this was all some facade to get me to come back to your place-"
"Relax, Avery. It's not. And why the hell would I assume that you'd follow me outside?"
She squared her jaw and shrugged.
"Does someone still have a sweet spot for me after all?" I teased.
"I suggest you shut the hell up while I still have your keys, Lahote."
"So easily triggered."
"Because you're trying to make me angry!" She cried.
"Me? I would never." I almost considered batting my eyelashes to convey my innocence.
"That blonde bimbo from earlier would say otherwise." She grumbled unhappily.
I certainly wasn't expecting that response. I deigned not to reply, and started making my way up to the porch. I was halfway across the driveway when I realised she wasn't following. "I suggest you come in while you wait for one of your girls to come pick you up. I don't see how else you'll be getting home."
Taylor pursed her lips for a minute, her stance unusually stiff. Once she decided that I was right, she made her way towards the door slowly. I turned around so she couldn't see me smile.
Once we were inside, I poured us both some moonshine and sat down on the couch. Taylor hesitated before taking it from me, clearly thinking that I had ulterior motives. I wouldn't blame her, judging by my past. But good God, it must have been her grandmother's dying wish that she was never to sleep with me again. I didn't see why else she wouldn't want to.
"Relax, Avery." I found myself saying for the second time. "I've just got to make up for the drinks you missed at the party."
Though it took some time, Taylor loosened up. Maybe it was the moonshine, or maybe it was the realisation that I wasn't going to just jump her all of a sudden. Perhaps it was a mixture of both. We shared laughs and stories from the past month, edging around a certain subject that she made obvious wasn't going to be brought up. It was only once we had two bottles completely drained that I bothered to check the time. 02:23.
Shit. What time must we had left the party? 11?
Taylor let out a yawn and then giggled when it turned into a hiccup.
"Whas wrong?" Her head fell forward and hit my shoulder lazily. Though we were both too drunk to really process whether the contact meant anything, it made my skin tingle.
"Nothin'." I played with the ends of her hair. It was a pretty colour. Dark and lush and shiny. Curled and let loose. She sighed contentedly under my touch, and my stomach fluttered.
"You tired?" I asked her.
Taylor managed to raised her head and look at me with bleary eyes. First she nodded her head yes, then shook her head no, then shrugged. I smiled at her. she smiled back.
Though wasted, it was the first time I'd felt truly happy in weeks. I had gotten into 3 fights at school in the past 3 days. Not good. My timetable was filled with detentions, and I was pretty sure that if I didn't sort myself out soon I wouldn't be welcomed at La Push High for much longer.
I was pulled out of my inner monologue by a short, sudden, chaste kiss on the lips.
"Stop worrying so much, Paul. You look so much more handsome when you smile." Though her words were tired and slurred, and I was pretty sure that if she were sober she wouldn't even be here right now, her words forced me to smile. I got a grin in response.
Taylor didn't protest when I cupped her flushed cheeks in my large, rough hands. She even moaned quietly when my lips first touched hers, gently but not timidly. My confidence built as the kiss grew on, and soon enough we were both panting. My skin was alight, and I couldn't begin to describe the feelings that came with her body being pressed up against mine once again. She was first to introduce tongue, and we made out for at least another five minutes before I started working on her shirt.
It was when my hands first made contact with her bear stomach that she froze up. Her lips stopped moving against mine and I pulled back from her, looking for an explanation. Taylor's breathing shallowed, and her eyes started to well up.
"Taylor?" I asked nervously, beginning to panic.
"I can't." She said, attempting to stand up on wobbly legs. I reached forward to help her, but she stumbled back too quickly for me to grab her.
"No." She sobbed the word with what I could only describe as pure sadness, and it made my heart ache a little. A lot, actually.
"What do you mean?"
"I can't do this, Paul. I can't be one of them."
"Who?" I asked, completely lost. Taylor started to back away from me slowly, towards the door.
"Another one of your sluts."
I froze then, not knowing how to reply.
"I see them everywhere, you know. They whisper about you whenever you walk past."
"I-"
She didn't let me continue. "And I can't be known like that. I can't be known for that."
It looked as though the kiss completely sobered her up, as short as it seemed to last. "Taylor, please. I-"
"Don't look so hurt, Lahote. It's just mindless sex to you, anyways." She said as she reached the door, hand on the doorknob.
I cringed when she went back to called me by my last name. "I'll drive you home." I knew I wasn't going to get anywhere with her. My own fault, I supposed.
"No. I'll walk. Don't follow me."
And I didn't.
After the door slammed shut, the tremors started again- so much harder than before. I cried out, but of course, there was no longer anyone there to hear me.