Chapter 1: Undertaken Rationally
"Edward…" she murmured, barely coherent, through sleeping lips, and she sounded oddly alarmed, almost distressed. I rubbed the bridge of my nose between two fingers and resisted the desire to wake her. She had risen from the hours of deep sleep, back to the stage of lighter rest in which her lips would utter mysteries and her body would twitch and roll and stretch and captivate me. Soon, I knew, she would wake.
"Mma gran, Edward…"
Still alarmed. Still distressed. I couldn't decipher the other words. I hesitated, undecided, about to stand. She was asleep. She was impossible to read at the best of times and now, eyes closed, face half-obscured, voice muted, was not the best by any means. I had no way to know whether she was truly distressed. She needed her sleep, and she didn't need to wake to my touch or my voice or my face, not today. She didn't speak again, but her brow appeared to crease almost undetectably. I forced myself not to move toward her. I had not expected peace and joy today. I should have anticipated unhappy dreams this morning. She shifted again, rolling almost onto her stomach. I wondered briefly, nervous in a way that I had never known before Bella, whether she was capable of suffocating in her own cushions the way that small children did. Medical school taught one many things to fear. She rolled again, completely face down. Her breathing rolled on, slow and deep and peaceful. Sleeping. I sighed, wishing I could see her face, but unwilling to risk waking her. I bent just low enough to brush my lips weightlessly against her hair. She didn't respond. I smiled as she shifted ineffectually. "Happy Birthday, love," I whispered as I straightened. "I'll see you soon."
I looked back as I reached the window. Her breathing remained steady, her hands twitching irregularly against the mattress in her dream, her face tense. "I love you, my Bella," I murmured, as much for my own comfort as for hers. I paused as her whole body stiffened. Waking her wasn't going to help. "Happy birthday," I murmured again, just loud enough to reach her sleeping ears. And then I slid the window silently to the top of its frame, closed it as I slipped out, and crossed the yard to the forest too quickly for the human eye to catch.
Though it tore me apart to leave her, I knew two things: firstly, that on the morning of her birthday, Charlie was liable to burst into Bella's bedroom at any moment, necessitating my immediate removal and, secondly, that this morning, only this morning, Bella would prefer to wake up without me. The thought made me feel oddly hollow as the forest flew past and my feet raced through the trees independent of my mind. She was not happy, and there was nothing I could do to change it. My presence would only make matters worse.
I knew the way from Bella's home to my family's without thinking – I had tracked it too many times in the last six months for even me to count. My body ran on autopilot. Perhaps, without me there, she could put her worries aside and enjoy her birthday a little. Perhaps, if I gave her half an hour to get used to the day, she would find it easier to bear. Perhaps, left to his own devices, Charlie might force her to celebrate a little. I sighed as I slipped noiselessly through the door of the white house. All of this was wishful thinking. Though she didn't say it, I knew that Bella didn't want me at her side this morning. But she had been dreading today for weeks, and half an hour without me wasn't going to be enough to make things better. I had managed to turn her birthday into a day of mourning, and there was nothing that I could do about it.
"Finally, Edward!" Alice exploded into me as I moved to the stairs.
I raised an eyebrow and continued up. "You knew when to expect me."
"How is she?"
"Asleep." I entered my own room and shut the door before Alice could follow.
She opened it. "You're not the only one concerned about her, Edward."
"No, but I am the only one causing her to dread her own birthday. Was there anything else?"
She stared me down. She was genuinely trying not to think what I already knew she did – just do it. Nothing would have to be like this, both of you would be so happy, I'd have Bella as a sister…if you would just do it.
She had the compassion and the courtesy not to consciously think it at me anymore, but her unconscious reactions to my misery still slipped through. I ignored them.
I felt more than heard the change in tenor of her thoughts as she stepped into the room—she had caught herself and was trying to mask the flow of her mind. "Don't you want to hear where the party's at?" I could hear her intentions as clearly in her soothing, falsely light voice as I could in her mind now that she spoke. He's miserable. Don't push him today. He needs cheering up as much as Bella does. He was enthusiastic about the party…
Her thoughts suddenly switched tack, and I knew she was leaving for the driveway before she spoke. "Wait one second Edward, I'll be right back…" and she was out of the room, down the stairs and off to pick up some supply or other for the evening's festivities from where it was about to pass in a truck that would miss the turn in to our retreat.
I sighed. Alice was placing great stock in her planned celebration and its supposed power to fix Bella's mood. I was not. Nonetheless, I felt that Bella should have a party, and I wanted Alice to be happy. Bella had grown marginally more receptive to the kind of fuss that Alice favoured, and while I expected a negative response to start with, it was possible that Bella might relax once she was here...if only because Jasper would undoubtedly intervene. Carlisle had agreed that it was a good idea. It couldn't be worse than sitting at home with me, regardless. I doubted the party would make her happy about today, but it might at least distract her briefly from the reasons behind her humour.
I traced a fingertip in rings around the CD that was my only gift to my angel. It was heartfelt, if nothing else. I knew that she would love it, and that brought a smile to my face. The way that her eyes misted over when I played, how her body would relax and tense with the rise and fall of the music, how, when she sat next to me before the keyboard, her head would rest on my shoulder and her eyes would follow the progress of my hands across the keys…I felt the tension leaving my body. She would sigh quietly with each familiar note, and the sweet scent of her breath and her body would surround me. Her eyelids would flutter shut like snowdrops, her lips would part minutely, her breathing would match mine. And if I kept playing, her warm, gentle hands would trace along my forearm, too light to disturb the music, or rest tentatively on my thigh by hers. Her touch was heaven at the worst of times—it was unimaginable bliss when she leaned against me that way, lost in the music that had filled me only for her.
The CD reflected a few beams of stray light against the walls, nothing against the wild refraction of my lifeless skin when the sun shone. I would have loved to buy her more gifts—anything. I could imagine nothing that she did not deserve, nothing that I would not find for her if only she would accept it. But even something so simple, so practical, so small as better speakers for the CD would be too much for Bella if they came from me. Anything close to what she deserved would make her furious. I smiled wryly to myself—the Centenary Diamond was out of the question. Or perhaps the Heart of Eternity, I reflected absently. She did glow so beautifully in blue. If I could obtain the Millennium Star as well, the pair would be perfect. A piece of modern history. My mind trailed distantly through the possibilities. The Star of the Season would be difficult to purchase…
"Edward?"
My name caught my attention from downstairs, called in Alice's mind.
"Alice?"
"Why do I see you trying to charm Ahmed Fitaihi into selling you his diamonds?"
I couldn't help but laugh. "Bella would kill me."
"Yes," Alice agreed conversationally. "Now are you going to come down here and look at my plans or are you going to sit up there and think of untenable gift ideas all morning?"
If nothing else, the thought of decking Bella in the world's most perfect gems had somewhat lifted my mood. I rolled off the couch and tried not to think about what Bella would say when I told her that there was a party.
It was hard to focus on anything without Bella here. My mind filled with her face—with her smile—with the changing, rising, falling, irresistible music of her voice, the velvet drowning of her eyes. Every situation in memory or speculation, inconstant daydreams or imagination featured Bella by my side. Bella in the loose flannel shirt that she liked to wear, comfortable and free, sprawled on the grass in our meadow. Bella in her prom dress, plus or minus the Tereschenko blue diamond, both legs uninjured and looking shockingly attractive in those silk-tied heels. For next year's prom, if I could convince her to go, we would have to do even better. The Graff Company's Paragon necklace would suit her, I noted wistfully as I obeyed Alice's summons. The Paragon diamond was lovely. I wondered whether Bella had ever seen a two-hundred carat. She liked rainbows. Her eyes still glazed over when she watched me in the sun. Perhaps she would like diamonds if I could show her one. I dismissed the idea quickly. I couldn't imagine how I'd convince her to come with me to the Smithsonian collection in Washington DC, let alone to permit me to bring a diamond here.
"Are you even listening to me, Edward?"
Was I really listening? No. Was enough of my mind trained on her words that I could pretend I had been? I smiled noncommittally as I actually looked at Alice. "You just took delivery of three-hundred pink roses. They're going in the bowls we used for Rosalie's '95 wedding. You need to find where you put the white Japanese lanterns because they're not with the rest of the lighting." I deliberated for a moment. "I believe they're downstairs behind the teak cabinet in the far south-east corner. With Rosalie's old incense chest."
Alice's eyes lit up. "Of course!" She was already half way to the basement when she called out, "You have to make me actually pack everything up properly tonight! I hate not being able to find anything…" And she was at the basement door when she stopped, stood still a moment then bolted up the stairs. Images of Bella flashed through her mind. The expression on Bella's face made me frown.
"We need to go, Edward!" I stared blankly, Bella's down-turned lips and tense face still before my eyes. She exhaled loudly, more impatient than usual. "Bella's leaving for school now, Edward, and I want to be there to say happy birthday when she arrives."
For a long moment, I considered telling Alice 'no'. The face in Alice's vision made it clear that Bella was hating her birthday every bit as much as she had promised that she would. Arriving at school to us—to me—was only going to remind her why she was so miserable. Alice's party was probably going to make Bella angry. But the alternative was waiting until class to see her, and that would be a first in…well, certainly a first for the year. Likely, Bella would worry if she were unable to locate me before classes began. Another source of worry was the last thing that my Bella needed. I retrieved lecture supplies from the cabinet near the door as Alice fixed me with a raised eyebrow and a flat glare. We didn't speak as we crossed to my Volvo, and the silence held for the first half of the two-minute transit.
"You'd better wipe that scowl off your face before you see her."
I turned my head further toward the window. "No, Alice, I'm going to glare, snarl and rip her head off." I could hear her eyes roll in her mind. I didn't look. "Of course I'll look happy when I see Bella."
"You don't look happy now."
"I'm not."
"Tonight's going to be great."
I forced my voice to remain level. "You saw your vision as well as I did, Alice. She's miserable."
I could hear Alice fighting not to think what she was thinking.
Well, if you…no, damnit, Alice…um, 1234…gah…the last thing he needs is you reminding him that he's making her miserable…uh…
Alice turned to thinking through old Ainu hymns that she must have learned from someone alive at the time, for they certainly weren't in print. I didn't fight my fists clenching around the wheel.
"She'll enjoy the party. I promise." Alice's voice sounded weak, and I could hear the thoughts crawling hopefully through her mind—okay, so the bits I've seen have been more awkward than happy, but she looks happier than this morning, so that might as well be enjoying herself, really, or, well, it's good enough for Edward…
I didn't object.
When the Volvo slid smoothly into a park, I slammed the door behind me almost before I'd stopped the car moving. I relished the momentary pause as Alice's thoughts were distracted by my hasty exit, quieted minimally by the minute increase in distance between us. As she stepped into the air after me, I searched Alice's thought-stream for where she was planning to stand. I needed to keep her unintentional commentary out of my head. I needed to be as far from her as practicable, even if the situation could only afford me a few metres. I was already torn between staying and tearing for the forest before Bella could see me and become more miserable still. Alice's poorly hidden reminders that the whole thing was entirely my fault were not boosting my argument to stay, and nor were the lingering images of Bella's face in her vision. The ridiculous technicality that she was 'older' than me—despite the fact that I was 86 years older than her, and she had never once pushed me away for it—had made her not only miserable but, from what I could tell by the vision of her face, actually distressed, nervous. But none of that was what made me want to disappear. Beneath it all was a horrible, gaping despair, an utter helplessness and fear deep in her eyes, eyes that I knew could be so warm and so rich, so intelligent and so loving, so sharp and so sweet and so perfect beyond belief…and they were empty and terrified and full of pain entirely because of me. The emptiness swelled, pressing on my lungs like physical pressure no longer could, rising from where it had tugged at me in the woods from her home and telling me to run before I made matters any worse. Seeing me—seeing the damned sameness of my lifeless face grinning at her like an idiot from the car park—was not going to help Bella. And yet, here I was. Leaning against the side of my car like I belonged here. Listening despite myself for the roar of her truck, audibly distinguishable from just under a mile away, as though I had a right to wait for her. Blocking out Alice's thoughts as though I shouldn't be the one suffering.
Furious with myself, I struggled to push the emptiness aside. Given that I was, in fact, standing here and waiting for Bella, I needed at least to minimise the damage. If that was still possible. 'Minimising the damage would have been staying in Alaska eight months ago,' something snapped in my head. 'Minimising the damage would have been leaving as soon as Bella was released from the hospital in Phoenix. Minimising the damage would have been thanking her for the time she'd given you, apologising for the mess you'd caused and getting out of her life.' I felt the familiar tightness in my chest as I silenced that part of my mind. The tightness was familiar—it seized me every time I allowed myself to suggest that I should have left her. It seized me every time that the thought of life without her glanced through my mind like a lifetime of darkness and an explosion of pain. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to focus. Plan. Plan of action. What are you going to do when Bella's truck pulls in? I focused. I waited. Blank. The complete lack of ideas made me slightly dizzy—I always had ideas. I racked my brain for the kind of pathetic, unlikely to work suggestions that I would normally filter out automatically. And landed up right where I'd started. Try to distract her. Make light of the situation. Pretend it's not a big deal. Don't let her be stressed. Smile. Hold her. Hell, 'dazzle' her, if it would work. Don't mention the party. Don't give her any more reasons to be upset, but don't make her bring up the old ones. Don't let her suffer in silence all day. Be honest about her misery, laugh about it, try to boost her spirits. For a moment, the combination was slightly dizzying. By the time I heard the truck in the distance twenty-three seconds later, I had planned exactly what I would do and say. She would be here in a minute and a half, give or take the crawling pace of her truck. And I would be standing right here, in plain sight, smiling as though nothing were wrong.
I began to draw in deep breaths of the crisp fall air, still relatively mild but swiftly gaining an edge of the chill to come. I held the air in my lungs as I drew forth every memory I could reach of my Bella's scent, sharp, vivid, burning in my throat. Every morning I called upon the same arsenal of memory, and every morning it fell wildly short. It was something, though. I swallowed the venom without flinching, and forced the tension out of my muscles, acclimatising as best I could to the fire in my stony flesh, knowing that it would be a thousand times worse when she arrived. I had the odd thought that had my venom the impulse of tears, they would no doubt distract me from the pain I felt now – venom in the eyes could not be easy, and this burning would easily draw tears. I tried to make it an argument for being glad I couldn't cry. I wasn't surprised when it failed. I took another set of deep breaths. Thirty seconds. The final dregs of tension slipped roughly from my body as I made myself focus on my Bella's face. On her eyes. On the sweet, smooth, delicious slide of her lips against mine. This was bearable. This had to be bearable. This would be bearable. For my Bella, anything was bearable.
The familiar, ridiculous red truck came into view, about to turn in to the car park. And suddenly, bearable was an understatement. I knew that the worst was yet to come—the flare of pain when she stepped to the pavement on days that she drove without me was impossible to match in memory. But right now, I could see her face through the windscreen. I could see her soft, gentle, loving hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly. I could see the line of her slender, pale arms rising from the pulse at her wrists to the pulse at her neck. I could see the curve of her neck crossing the ridge of her collarbone and turning into the curve of her breast. I could see the rise and fall of her body with each breath. I could see every inch of her and everything I knew that could not be seen deep in the distance of her eyes. She had not yet spotted me. But it did not matter. She was the most beautiful thing in the world. Pain was not even part of the equation.
I held my breath as her eyes scanned the car park and the truck crawled inexorably toward us. I held my breath as her eyes flicked back over the Volvo. I held my breath as her eyes were about to catch me. And then, like the beginnings of the world and the light of heaven, she smiled, and everything else disappeared. Her eyes were full of an intoxicating mix of joy and wonder, and I knew that mine were the same. Even after two-hundred-and-thirty-eight days of seeing Bella, everything about her still blew me away. And even after one-hundred-and-eighty-eight days of being with my angel, I still couldn't believe that I could possess this magnificent a blessing. No memory I had could do her justice. And she was smiling just for me, because of me, just the same as every blessed morning. I felt my grin widen and become genuine. Bella pulled the truck up across the aisle from my Volvo. I was silently grateful. If I waited here for her to reach me, I would have ten metres—almost thirty seconds, including the time it would take her to exit and lock the truck—to deal with her scent in the open air before I touched her. A little time made it easier to erase the evidence from my stance before she could notice. I breathed in deeply, drawing in the echo that I could scent already, with the body of the truck enclosing her. Bella knew, naturally, that I had to reacclimatise to her scent every time that I left her. She wasn't, however, always conscious of the knowledge, and I worked to keep it so. Bad enough that she was involved with a monster. She didn't need the pain of knowing how strongly my body urged me to take what it wanted every time I greeted her.
Because that would never happen. Not now.
I held my breath as the door opened, lingering in that moment of the whole world shutting down—one long moment of everything reduced to Bella's face as she stepped into the same air as I. And then I forced myself to breathe in, and the whole world came rushing back. I felt myself sway internally, though my body kept its perfect balance. I clenched my jaw like every morning as venom flooded my mouth; tensed the muscles in my neck as I swallowed it harshly down; relaxed each muscle in my body, one at a time, by force of will, ordering them to forget the instinct to pounce. And I was profoundly glad, for once, that I could not cry, because my eyes stayed focused on Bella, and as long as it was for Bella, there was no pain I could not dismiss. She was frowning—the smile had disappeared in moments—but she was there. She was there, and if I had hurt her today, it was up to me to fix it. She was here, and it was my job, my purpose, to protect her. The larger part of my mind did not register Alice leaving my side until she crossed my view of Bella.
"Happy birthday, Bella!"
I was ready to kill her.
"Shh!" Bella hissed, blushing furiously and glancing nervously around the car park as though something might jump at her. Hardly unreasonable, I reflected bitterly, considering the two vampires standing closer to her than anyone else.
Alice's voice jerked me back to the rapidly deteriorating situation at hand. "Do you want to open your present now or later?" My eyes flew to Alice's hands. One was tugging Bella's wrist in my direction, leading her unwillingly across the car park. Unwillingly toward me, my mind repeated. I ignored it. Because Alice's other hand held a small, silver-wrapped square, a square that was the only birthday present I had made for Bella, and if I was angry before, I could feel the urge to rip Alice's head off surfacing quickly now. To be fair, I had asked Alice to give it to Bella for me, since she was already planning to violate my love's 'no gifts' rule, and I was trying not to make things worse. That did not, however, mean that she had the right to drag it out this morning, when Bella was already a wreck, make the morning worse, ruin the only gift that Bella might have enjoyed and ensure that I had destroyed her birthday as thoroughly as possible without slaughtering her family or similar brutality. I struggled to control myself. Protecting Bella was an activity that had to be undertaken rationally. I could protect Bella by picking Alice up by the collar and tossing her across the car park before she could make things any worse. That would not, however, make Bella's day any better, would not endear me to her, and would raise difficult questions in a reasonably populated school car park. All of which meant that, as usual, the best way to protect Bella was simply to pretend that everything was fine. I plastered on my best fake smile as Alice dragged my love closer. Her present idea having been downed (predictably) by Bella, Alice had moved on, ever optimistic.
"Did you like the scrapbook your mom sent you? And the camera from Charlie?"
These I already knew, first from Alice, then from Charlie, then from Alice again for confirmation. I thought it was an excellent idea, and had told Charlie as much. My family had few photos—while Esme went in and out of phases with cameras, there was little point considering our faultless memories. As for my human life…photos then had been sepia, hand tinted at best. I remembered one or two, but none remained—plundering relatives or careless loss had disposed of those things. Some days I wished I had them, a poor safeguard against the constant threat of forgetfulness; the distance of a human life and a blood family that faded too easily into sepia before grey and grey before nothing. Other days I was glad they were gone. Sharp, breathing evidence of that life that I had lost. Some reminders were best left alone.
Bella didn't sound enthusiastic about the camera, and I knew that Alice was no more surprised by that than I was. Unlike Alice, however, I saw Bella's retort coming when she was idiotic (and short-sighted) enough to point out that Bella would, indeed, only be a senior once. It was not often that Alice failed to see things coming. That it was something so hellishly obvious was the norm. I wondered absently whether throwing her across the parking lot mightn't have been the better plan. Bella, understandably, was now in, if possible, an even worse mood than before. I went over words in my mind. Play calm. Happy. Normal. Laugh. Don't let her dwell on it. Don't let her feel abnormal. The same formula as every day, though under somewhat more pressure this morning. I didn't let myself look properly at her face until I could feel her eyes on mine, because I knew just the way my thoughts would tilt sideways the second that I did. And they did. Thankfully, looking at Bella's face also made it infinitely easier to smile. I reached out one hand to her, trying not to feel nervous, needing to feel that she was still there, needing to know that she was still speaking to me, as obvious as it was. And the only thing more wonderful than the rush of warmth when her palm touched mine was the smile that lit up her face, and how impossible it was not to mirror it with my own.
It was so easy to drown in Bella's eyes, to forget it all, to feel…I squeezed her hand, barely, for an anchor, just holding her, trying desperately to keep my head. I needed to have my thoughts in order today. I couldn't afford to make a mistake and upset her. I squeezed her fingers again, enough for her to feel it, and the familiar quickening of her heartbeat filled me with her warmth. The nervousness retreating more quickly than Jasper could have forced it, I reached for her again, hungry for that warmth, the softness of her skin, the moment of contact, of undeniable closeness, that promised me she was still here and still here for me. I touched her lips, and resisted the urge to kiss her. Something in my mind knew that I should say something…but my mind was suddenly blank. I blinked, knowing that I had had a plan…I traced the outline of her lips, slowly as I could, while I tried to think. It was very difficult to think while touching Bella's lips, but I didn't want her to know that my mind had gone blank, and I didn't want to let go of her warmth. 'Happy birthday'. Well, no. No happy birthday. I gathered up the few of my wits that I could find.
"So, as discussed, I am not allowed to wish you a happy birthday, is that correct?"
I hoped desperately that I was treading the right line. I didn't want to ignore her birthday, but nor did I want to upset her further.
"Yes," she glared teasingly, "That is correct." I tried to quash the warmth flooding through me enough to think clearly. She sounded a little stilted, but that wasn't unusual. And she was smiling beneath my hand.
I grinned. "Just checking."
I reluctantly let my fingers trail off her cheek, and tangled them firmly in my hair to stop myself pulling her into my arms. "You might have changed your mind. Most people seem to enjoy things like birthdays and gifts."
I desperately hoped that the smile meant I was allowed to tease her, and wished that Alice wouldn't laugh so obviously, in case Bella felt that she was being laughed at. I wondered momentarily whether I was being paranoid. 'You're always paranoid,' I could hear Bella pointing out in my head. I wondered when Bella had become my conscience. It didn't surprise me.
I brought myself back to the present just in time to hear Alice manage, in that special way that only she could, to once again make things worse.
"What's the worst that could happen?" she grinned, and though a million answers flashed through my mind—this was Bella, after all—I knew which Bella would give.
"Getting older," she murmured. They were exactly the words that I expected, but they made it a thousand times more difficult to smile.
"Eighteen isn't very old," Alice protested, and I wished she'd just leave us to our misery. "Don't women usually wait till they're twenty-nine to get upset over birthdays?"
Could she not see how upset Bella was? Could she possibly think that this was helpful? And then, there it was.
"It's older than Edward."
And for the thousandth time in the past twenty-four hours, I discovered that however much one hates oneself, it is always possible to hate more deeply.
I ignored Alice after that. I couldn't stop her without causing a scene, and I couldn't think how she could make this any worse. Older than Edward. It was a tremendous effort to keep my face relatively neutral. Older than Edward? I was one-hundred-and-four-years-old, for Christ's sake. She wasn't older than me, she was never going to be older than me, and I wouldn't have cared in the least if she was. I tried to pretend that that was the point. It lasted all of about ten seconds. That wasn't the point. That wasn't the problem. The problem was the stories she told me, used to taunt me, provoked me with, trying to convince me that there was any justification for tearing away her humanity. What were we going to do when she looked like my mother? What was I going to do when she looked like my grandmother? I knew exactly what I was going to do—I was going to stay by her side and love her with all of my heart and with every fibre of my body until the day that she died, and then leave after her, though I could never follow her from there. She didn't approve of the plan…she didn't know of the second part of the plan, though I couldn't imagine she thought I would live on without her. And to her, as she had told me every day, every hour, in the lead-up to today, turning 18 was one symbolic step closer to… 'looking like my grandmother'. I failed to see the problem. The problem came when she died. But it mattered to Bella. And for once, there was nothing—nothing morally reasonable—that I could do about it.
I was snapped out of my unpleasant—and by now repetitive—reverie by Alice all but squealing.
"Be fair, Bella!" she exploded, and I frowned as most of the heads in the car park turned our way. "You aren't going to ruin all our fun like that, are you?"
So she had already brought up the party, presumably in as inappropriate a way as the gift.
"I thought my birthday was about what I want."
Goddamnit Alice…this was ending here. "I'll get her from Charlie's right after school," I glared at Alice, willing her to take the hint and leave.
"I have to work," glared Bella, significantly harder than I could. I knew that she didn't, but it didn't overly concern me. What did was finding a way to make Bella forgive me for Alice's idiocy.
"You don't, actually," gloated Alice, and I felt the renewed urge to strangle her. "I already spoke to Mrs Newton about it. She's trading your shifts. She said to tell you 'Happy Birthday.'"
"I—I still can't come over," choked out Bella, looking mildly panicked. "I, well, I haven't watched Romeo and Juliet yet for English."
My 'getting rid of Alice' tactic was failing miserably.
Alice didn't hold back on the derision. "You have Romeo and Juliet memorised."
"But Mr. Berty said we needed to see it performed to fully appreciate it—that's how Shakespeare intended it to be presented." I knew exactly how little Bella had been listening when Mr. Berty had said that, and exactly how many times we'd watched the movie together, though, to be fair, Bella wasn't necessarily paying much attention then, either.
"—the nineteen-sixties version—" which we watched in July, I noted, though I didn't pass it on to Alice—"Mr. Berty said it was the best," Bella continued, ever hopeful. This wasn't going to end well. I allowed Alice to glare at Bella for a total of five seconds before deciding that she wasn't going to stop on her own. No one else would have gotten that long.
"Relax, Alice," I growled, making sure that the words would sound neutral to Bella. There were advantages to a vampire's broader range of hearing. Alice stopped short. Now I just had to get Bella to the party and get rid of Alice in a way that didn't involve Bella hating me. It was times like this that made physically removing Alice and picking Bella up and carrying her off seem particularly appealing.
"If Bella wants to watch a movie, then she can," I hedged, hoping that this would win me back at least a little ground. "It's her birthday," I added. Get to the party…
"So there," Bella interrupted.
So much for seamlessly bringing in going to the party later. I opted for bluntness. "I'll bring her over around seven." And to get rid of Alice… "That will give you more time to set up." And if she didn't disappear now, I was going to make her.
Alice didn't miss my tone.
"Sounds good," she laughed artificially. "See you tonight, Bella! It'll be fun, you'll see."
I had my doubts, but, nightmare past five minutes aside, Alice was right. If we didn't celebrate Bella's birthday, it would only reinforce the idea that it was a cause for depression. Today needed to be handled sensitively—and Alice had just put me a mile behind at the starting post. Still. I was a vampire. I could run a mile in seconds. I would make today work out. I just needed time to talk to Bella alone. And—several students called out to Bella as they moved to class. So much for time.
"Edward, please—" she began, and I seriously considered deciding to skip class for the both of us. But that was not sensitivity. I quieted her with a finger on her lips…which didn't make me any more inclined to leave her and go to class. Sensitivity, I reminded myself. "Let's discuss it later," I sighed reluctantly. "We're going to be late for class."
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A/N: So...there you go! Hope you enjoyed the beginning :D (resists the urge to add 'of the end') I've written a fair bit of this fic (in bits, most of which are half-way through the story P), and it's got a lot of my headspace, so I want it to be good. Which means...please help ;D Let me know what you liked, what you didn't, and which jokes were really really stupid :P I want to know. Really. I'll put the next chapter up as soon as I've drafted the one after! (ie. put the fic on story alert if you want more ;D)
Thanks for reading :-)
J
