AN: Yes I completely re-wrote the first chapter, well re-wrote in the sense that I used it as a skeleton and changed little facts such as now they are talking French instead of math. Seriously, who wants to read about numbers, at least French is romantic, in my opinion.
Chapter One: part two
"Do you mind if we work on pronunciation for a bit?" He asked as he flipped through the last written page in my notebook.
"Uh," I mumbled, "Yeah sure, I'm going to butcher it, you are aware of that, right?" I was trying to keep the mood light and so far it had been working. When I had arrived at the library today he hadn't been waiting, which might, just might, have something to do with the fact that was twenty minutes early.
It's embarrassing to admit but I hadn't thought about much other that Edward the whole week. Now that we were here together my heart sped and I was super aware of an intense feeling of warmth. My stomach was dancing around and I could almost swear I was going to be sick. That was what Edward Cullen was doing to me; me, who just a week ago hadn't had any romantic inclinations to anyone.
Last time we'd been sitting across from each other and that space had seemed intimate but now Edward was right next to me, his arm just a fraction away from my own. I had to remind myself to lean away from him to keep myself from doing something creepy, like smelling him.
I was surprised he'd sat beside me but he didn't seem to think much of it. I didn't affect him at all.
"Try this sentence," he pointed to the assignment I'd written after our first session. It was a list of basic expressions that I'd previously translated. I was fairly confident in the arrangement of the French words on the page only because the sentences were so short.
'Please write it down' was the English translation and I shakily opened my mouth to attempt the French, "Puhrez voo lecrear sil voo pleh*?"
I had to give it to Edward, he didn't laugh at my poor accent or obviously forced attempt at speaking the foreign language. "Pooryay," he said. I nodded, the blush creeping up my cheeks, "Repeat after me. We'll take it really slow. Pooryay," he spoke the word softy, surely and slowly. Basically every s word you could imagine.
"Pooryay?"
"Yes. The z is silent, you see? Pooryay voo laykreer."
I repeated after him, not going anywhere near his perfect accent.
"Seel voo pleh," he finished.
"Seel voo pleh," I mimicked.
He smiled, "You were almost right on with that part your first try," he praised. "S'il was the only part you had a hard time on."
"And I should really know that too," I sighed frustrated. "'Please'," I shook my head, "I've definitely translated 'please' before. Even here, people say that all the time. I should know that."
"You just need to take it slowly, memorize and repeat. Sometimes the obvious things take us by surprise." He grinned down at me, his bronze hair catching the light making him look like a prophet, portraying him as tutelary. I snapped my head back to the page before I became completely enraptured with him.
He was just trying to help me and I was becoming a moonstruck psycho. I felt my cheeks heat as I turned crimson. "'Why is that?'"
My vision blurred; could he read my mind; my body language? Was he asking me why I was falling all over myself; why I was blushing?
"Can you translate that without your book?" he finished. I took a sharp breath.
Wow, I needed to get my head on track, "pourkca?"
"Poorkwa," he corrected.
He scribbled the word at the bottom of the page, 'Pourquoi?.'
"The Q U O I," he separated the letters out loud, "Sound like wah."
"Oh," I replied lamely.
"What about 'why not'? Can you try that without any other help?"
"Poorkwa pa?"
"Perfect." He ripped a page out of his notebook. "I've written a bunch of basic words, mostly food, in French. Can you translate them; then we can try their pronunciations?"
"Uh sure," I took the sheet avoiding his touch, worried that this time I might not pull back as quickly as I should. Sometimes it's best to avoid situations you're not sure about.
"Leave the ones you have no idea about, we'll go through them."
I nodded, looking at page with extreme interest. Maybe it was good that Edward was my tutor. I wanted to impress him so throughout the past week I'd studied harder than I'd ever had before. Wanting someone to think highly of you was encouraging; it might be the only reason I'd pass.
I clicked my ballpoint pen so the nub was out, took a look at Edward, who had already submerged himself in 'Alice in Wonderland,' before attempting the problems.
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There were only two words I wasn't sure of when I raised my head. Edward's eyes were dark, shaded behind the flimsy book. I couldn't help smiling at his intensity over the book that most would say was directed at children. It was endearing, it was nice to know he had hobbies, interests. I gritted my teeth when the realization hit, I was starting to get involved in Edward's personality. It was one thing to find yourself attracted to someone, another to really like them.
I clicked my pen, retracting the point which snapped Edward's attention. He lowered the book, "Sorry," he mumbled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I just figured you'd be uncomfortable if I stared at you while you worked."
"No, no it's fine." Actually it was preferable; I didn't think I would have gotten done any work if he'd watched me.
"So, 'Alice in Wonderland'…" I trailed off. His eyebrows knitted together slightly and he looked repentant, like I'd caught him doing something shameful. Not wanting him to think I was judging him I quoted, ""Lastly, she pictured to herself how this same little sister of hers would, in the after-time, be herself a grown woman; and how she would keep, through all her ripper years, the simple and loving heart of her childhood; and how she would gather about her other little children, and make their dream of Wonderland of long ago; and how she would feel with all their simple sorrows, and find a pleasure in all their simple joys, remembering her own child-life, and the happy summer days.""
His eyes widened, "You've memorised that?"
I looked down, "I have a thing about last sentences, I mean, like, last sentences in books." I shrugged, "My mom teaches kindergarten, I've read 'Alice in Wonderland' many times, well, I guess I should say 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.*'"
"Hmm," he sounded strange so I returned my gaze to his. I bit my lip awkwardly. "Oh sorry," he blinked a few times, "You're finished, let's see how you did."
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I fell asleep thinking about Edward Cullen and his repentant look; thinking of his voice, his eyes, the way his fingers caressed the page. So it was easy to imagine secret lives with the boy, it was easy to see futures that weren't realistic and poorly matched hands together. After all he made me feel something vague, something strange, something unorthodox or maybe it was all the opposite.
I couldn't help smiling, I couldn't help anything.
My cell phone rang at five am; wrenching me out of my childhood fantasies, it was a good thing too; sometimes you just shouldn't fantasize about things and people you can't have.
With a groggy hand I reached for the phone that I'd left on my bedside table. I knocked over a glass of water from the night before. "Fuck," I whispered in a throaty voice, deeper from sleep. I grabbed the phone, pressed talk and stuck it to my ear as I got out of bed. "Hello," I managed as I trudged out of the room and toward the bathroom.
The sound of tears met my ears, "Bella," she croaked.
"Alice? Are you okay, what's wrong?" I tugged a hand towel from a banister before making my way back to my mess.
"N-o, yes, maybe, I don't know." She stumbled on her words, cracking around the syllables.
"What's wrong?" I whispered, trying to keep my volume down.
"Can you come over?"
"Are you at your dad's?" I asked.
"Yeah."
"Okay, I'll be there," the phone disconnected just as I started dabbing the water up. I shuffled the phone into my left hand, clicked 'end' before tossing it onto my bed. I threw the damp towel into the laundry room and I went to the kitchen to write my mother a note.
'Gone to Alice's be home before school,' I jotted. I stuck the note on the table and hurried to the front entrance. Putting on my coat and grabbing the keys, I scurried out the door. It was pitch black and smelt like winter, you know that smell, almost like metal, campfire, smoke, Everest trees, something like that, that smell.
The 1997 car was parked outside the garage just because my mom had forgotten to call for someone to check what was wrong with the garage door. Or maybe it was that I had forgotten to remind my mother to call; maybe I should have called.
I raked my hand through my hair before putting it into reverse and heading across town to see Alice.
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I didn't knock on the front door, I was used to Alice enough to know that was a bad move, instead, just before I arrived I called her. She didn't bother picking up but by the time I'd walked up the front stoop, the door opened.
"Hey," she mumbled, old tears streaking down her face. She was wearing a dirty white t-shirt and a pair of black yoga pants. Her hair hadn't been brushed and she was shivering.
I pulled her into a hug as I closed the door and she leaned against me and let out a deep sob. "Shh, Shh, Alice, what's wrong?"
She let go, turning her back to me and walking through the living room and to her own room without a word. I followed, tripping over boxes and the frayed carpet, catching myself on the 70's orange wall. By the time I reached her room she was laying on the bed, curled up, looking used and wasted. I tapped the door as closed as the frame would allow and sat on the ground at her feet, leaning my back on the bed.
"Is your dad home?" I asked in a meek voice.
She snorted, "No, he's still at the bar." I should have assumed.
"What happened?" I asked again.
"Tyler came over," she sobbed again, "Fucking broke in, basically, stole a key* when we were still together. I told him to get out," She paused, coughing around the words, "and he wouldn't."
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" I turned my head anxiously trying to get a good look at her. She didn't look hurt or maybe I should say she didn't look bruised or cut or any of the physical hurts a person can give.
"No, not exactly," she hiccupped and I had to turn away from her, it was too hard to look. "He locked himself in the bathroom, wouldn't leave, I didn't know what to do. I thought he might do something crazy, something stupid, my razors are in there, you know. Just my leg ones, but… People get creative when they're angry."
"Oh my god," I wheezed.
"I ended up calling Jasper. He made it over in less then ten minutes but I think that just made Tyler angrier." She sobbed and I got up and flopped on the bed beside her, holding her close. "So, so we ended up calling the cops. It was a mess. God, Bella why do these things keep happening?"
"Shh," I cooed, rocking her carefully. "It's okay, it'll be okay. What did the cops do?"
She snorted, "Gave Tyler a warning, basically. Threw him out. Jasper wanted to stay and… and we argued about that because he had the nightshift. Eventually he listened to reason. And then I was so alone. I felt so alone."
"You're not alone."
"I'm sorry I called you. You have school in a couple hours," she raised her head a fraction to read the clock. "I shouldn't have called, It's a half hour drive over here, I'm sorry. God, and you took your mother's car?"
"Yeah, but its fine."
"No, it's not fine at all. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have called."
"No, stop that Hun, don't think about that. It's doesn't matter."
"No," she let me go, pushing me away a fraction, and sat up. "You should go get ready for school."
"Are you sure? I can call Renee…"
"No, I'm fine. I just needed to talk. Jasper will be off soon anyway. I'll call you after class."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," she laughed without humor, "Go on, get, get."
And I left, bitterly, worriedly, because there was nothing else I could do.*
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I was still thinking about Alice as the week passed. Thinking about her was easier than thinking about Edward. It was substantial to worry about her; it was silly to think of Edward.
He beat me there. Already at the tables; his head in 'Tuck Everlasting' with that same overeager expression, by the time I approached.
I stood in front of him, at the other side of the table, hovering. "'And soon they were rolling on again, leaving Treegap behind, and as they went, the tinkling little melody of a music box drifted out behind them and was lost at last far down the road.'" I quoted.
He dropped the book in surprise; it hit the table with a thud. I sat down across from him, "Sorry didn't mean to surprise you."
"No, no that's fine."
I swallowed loudly suddenly uneasy, "You've read it before, I'm not ruining the last sentences of the books you're trying to read, am I?"
He laughed and the right side of his mouth quirked up. Wow, that was breathtaking. "No, you're not. I think it's amazing you can remember those so perfectly."
"It's just one of those things," I shrugged absently. "Like how some people remember phone numbers or all the lyrics to every song written by Queen."
"I don't know, singing along to a popular song or memorizing numbers you call all the time isn't so hard."
I let a soft laugh escape, "Or knowing more than one language," I countered.
"More than five actually."
"What do you do all day, translate books?"
He scowled ironically, "No, what do you do all day? Read the last line of thousands of books twenty times*?"
I giggled. "That's cute," I rolled my eyes.
His smile fell as he shook his head, "And speaking of other languages…"
Notes:
* French pronunciation: I think it's easier to write out how they sound then try to make sense of French spelling with what they're talking about. Hopefully this isn't super confusing.
* "Alice in Wonderland": Um, yeah sorry I actually JUST realized I was calling the book this and not 'The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland'. This is a note of apology to anyway he gets annoyed when people let Disney titles stay in the forefront.
*Stolen Key: This happened to a separate friend. Her sister dated this crazy guy who stole her key ring, broke into their house a couple times and ultimately stole and relocated their car.
* The whole Alice situation: Her whole break in ex-boyfriend plus call friend over are two separate situations that happened to me. I think it's interesting to base things off real life, helps me remember things.
* Twenty times: Someone once told me if you repeat something twenty times it gets stuck in your head/memorized. I don't know if this is true and I'm too lazy to put it to any test but that's what Edward is talking about.