Chapter Two:
If it weren't for the aroma of melting butter and browning hotcakes that had wafted under the crack in Rose's door, her attitude toward being woken up by the incessant blaring during the definitely most satisfying climax of her definitely most enticing dream would've been bitterly sour. She currently sat at around peachy.
"Who spilt food on the range and didn't clean it up!" Bella demanded to the empty kitchen. "Lazy whores."
"Mmhh, that smells good, Bells. Granny's family recipe?" Rose sniffed appreciatively, fastening her robe around her waist.
"Sure is," Bella smiled, pressing on the pancake and flipping it down onto the plate. She dumped the dishes in the sink.
Rose began to wonder if the number of pancakes usually prepared on any normal morning she seemed to recall was a mistake, because the total she had come to was double digits, and more than a couple extra than what three measly cakes Bella had piled on to the plate sitting in front of her. She stared at her as Bella settled on a stool with lemon and cutlery.
Bella looked up. "What?"
"You really only made some for yourself?"
Bella bobbed her head; the beginnings of a smug smile tugging at the creases of her mouth. "That's what you get when you betray your bestest sister friend in the whole world."
"Is this about last night?" Bella nodded indignantly. Rose sighed dramatically. "Oh, come on! All I meant was that he was hot; it was a joke!"
"Liar! You'd say anything for Granny Swan's hotcakes!" Bella snatched the plate away from Rose's grabbing fingers.
"Bella! You're acting like a five year old!" Rose's childish whining made Bella raise an eyebrow in amusement. "We could do this the easy way, or the hard way."
"Dead threat!" Bella cried out. "That mouth of yours isn't good for anything other than giving head."
It wasn't that Rosalie was athletic, or had an outstanding skill or stamina; it was that Bella had been hindered with a lack of co-ordination, and the knowledge of how to put one foot in front of the other without stumbling over objects either blatant or seemingly invisible. It was also still very early in the morning. That's what she tried to convince herself of anyway.
The hotcakes were the only survivors of the fall, and Rosalie picked it up daintily with merely but a small smile on her lips. "I'll clean up," she called after Bella when she glumly exited the room, a slight limp to her left.
Forty minutes, Bella thought to herself. Rose always says it kicks in within forty minutes. She dressed quickly.
Her laces were untied, her makeup a fleeting mascara application and her hair disorderly piled into a bun. Thirty minutes later Bella walked in to Rosalie obliviously humming Abba to herself through the still unnoticeable churning in her stomach – the early stage reaction. Rose pulled her arms out of the bubbles.
"You're ready early," she observed.
"Yeah, I wanted to make sure I got out of the house before it started," Bella replied, latching her watch.
"Before what started?"
Bella readied herself. "You know, for someone who is lactose intolerant, you should be able to taste the difference between normal and soy milk."
Rose froze. Her head snapped to Bella. "You fucking didn't!"
"Have fuuuuun." Dragging her bag from the counter, Bella hurried through the second story door, her own triumphant shrieks of laughter and Rose's violent threats following behind her.
"Just because I don't want to have sex with you doesn't make me a lesbian, Mike. It just makes you an asshole."
Bella slammed the cupboard door so it clipped the tip of Mike's nose, cursing Mrs. Woods to hell silently within. There were two very strong, relevant and completely fair reasons why Bella had a more than generous dislike for the ancient Mrs. Woods. The first being that she was just an unpleasant, stroppy bitch who had no more interesting hobby in her existence than to make Bella's life a misery, and two, she had so many illness's that every second day was taken on sick leave. This left Bella with such substitutes as the one who stood before her, rubbing his nose and knitting his eyebrows, discouraged and frustrated by the impatient attitude Bella always took with him.
Mike huffed.
"Why don't you go mark tests or something? There has to be something you're capable of doing." Bella slapped him away.
"Mrs. Woods took all her work home with her," Mike explained.
"Of course she did. Rancid old bag." Bella glared at the kettle, angrily drumming her fingers on the bench to stop herself from choking the boy beside her.
"Just think about the offer, Bella. We might even have some fun together," he said hopefully.
"Mike, I have a confession," Bella faked sheepishness. "You were right before."
"About what?" He knitted his eyebrows.
"About, you know… my sexuality." The end of the sentence, though whispered, had a greater effect on Mike than any other thing Bella had ever said to the poor boy.
"What! You mean you're a lesbian!" If Bella hadn't have known any better, she would've described Mike's tone of voice as a squeal. One of disbelief, and what she could only assume was the emotion which could be concluded as 'JACKPOT!'
"Oh, shove a cock in it, why won't you! I don't want everyone finding out!" Bella shoved a tea bag into Mike's mouth. He spat it out.
"Sorry." He fiddled his thumbs.
Bella glared at his hands and snapped: "Quit doing that and just ask already."
"Who with?"
"Well… you know my roommate, right?" Bella leaned closer.
"Who, Angela?"
"No. Rosalie."
"You mean your step-sister!" Mike screeched again.
"Hey, it's not incest if it's relation by marriage." With a cheeky grin Bella poured the boiled water on top of the ground coffee, stuck a teaspoon in her mouth and flounced from the room.
Through the disgust and fascination Mike was currently overcome with, he couldn't help but move the uncomfortable plank in his trousers, hoping to make his hormonally driven hard on less obvious.
The bell rang, so in a loud monotonous voice to be heard over the end of day raucous, Bella announced: "Exams coming up next week; you don't pass them, you don't pass your future. Study – God knows most of you need it."
Her final class for the day filed out of the door, cigarettes already being pulled from pockets, bags and behind ears. She halted the stoner.
"Hand it over, Geoffrey," she held her hand out. He seemed torn, but put the joint in Bella's awaiting hand, unsubtly pulling another from his shirt pocket as he walked out of the room.
"I'll save that one for later," Bella mumbled to herself, storing it in her bra.
She hustled the days marking into her tote and flew it over her shoulder, rushing to avoid Mike. He'd been unpleasantly more observant at lunch break when Bella was on field duty, and Bella shuddered at the possible thoughts and visions that she imagined going through his mind.
Rosalie was sitting at the breakfast bar when Bella walked into the second floor kitchen. Bella smirked.
"Good morning?" At least having the decency to stifle her laughter.
Rose smirked back. "Indeed it was. Good detox. I feel tonnes lighter. I'm sure the toilet could reiterate that."
"No blood no foul, right?" Bella smiled, pleased Rose found the humour in the prank she had pulled in playful revenge.
"Speaking of toilets, who's turn is it to clean today?" It was a reenactment of Rosalie's reaction this morning that Bella's response consisted of. "You know, being the person who made the "Clean Routine", you should really remember when it's your week. I made sure to visit all toilet facilities." Rose smiled innocently.
"You dirty whore."
"Have fuuuuuuun."
Thanks for all the adds to alerts/favourites!
So this main wasn't as long or well-written than expected, but hey, work and study have to be our top priorities, right?
Thanks - BL x
