A/N:

Sorry for the waiting, I promise that my next chapter will be in this week. haa This story is going to be around 23 or 25 chapters. If you have questions about the Asperger condition you can ask me or wiki it. Thanks for the reviews I´ll try to reply but I'm really really busy at work. Thank you for you support.

DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN TWILIGHT, STEPHANIE MEYER DOES

Rating M for Mature language, sex and violence (the best stuff)

CHAPTER 2: A NEW KIND OF NEUROSIS

It was almost 9 p.m. when she stopped, just as I was wondering of how long we would keep going. She doesn't notice me since I was far behind—by a block or two. And if she did notice me, I couldn't tell.

I am standing in front of a building, like an apartment building. She enters and I just stay there until I see a light turn on the fifth floor. Then twenty minutes passes; and the lights turn off. I notice that I'm not that far from home; maybe a twenty-minute walk.

At 10:12 p.m. I make it home. I am tired and I don't know… conflicted? I just have this range of emotions that I couldn't slice fit any more of it… good, bad or conflicted. That is it, and that was all I'd ever needed before… until now. I couldn't sleep, but I start my day the same way. When I arrive at work, I look for the young woman but she's not there.

By 2 p.m., I am with Mr. Rodson, dealing cards really fast and oblivious to the world around me. I am also counting cards, which is my hobby. Then she appears; and suddenly, I feel so lost and so rotten in my soul that I'm aching—a physical ache throbbing at the back of my neck and in my legs. Pain, lots of pain.

I excuse myself because my lungs start hurting. I make the croupier change—which I've never made between turns, if I didn't need to go to the bathroom. Jasper sees me and is following me. Meanwhile, I am trying to reach the men's room. I enter and take a lot of stuffy-rancid-reciclyed-Casino-air in and splashed water on my face.

I don't know what is happening to me. It feels so weird and awkward. And yes, I guess that's how physical attraction feels like; a strong physical attraction. I see Jasper from my peripheral vision.

"You feel sick, Edward?" I turned around feeling so lost. I don't know what to answer. Yes I feel sick, but I don't know why. Well, I did know why, but I don't know if it was real or not.

"I needed air."

"What's wrong? You feel sick?"

"No. I don't know…" Because I really don't know.

"Ok. I… if you need anything, just tell me, Ok?" I just nod, splash more water on my face and feel a little better.

When I am outside of the men's room, I take another breath and go to my table. She is there now. When she sees me, she stops talking to the waiter and waits for me to deal the cards.

"You know, Doucheward… the other day you gave me bad luck. If I lose this game, I will go to that table," she says cocking her head towards Tyler's table, the other croupier. Something in me snaps and I start to count cards.

"Ten another?" She looks at me, and I just stare back as if saying in my eyes, 'yes, yes! Say another one, please,' because I know that she has 69% probability to win. So she nods in response. She knew that I was saying 'yes'. And that is different. Nobody ever in my life had ever been able to tell what I was thinking or feeling. Maybe it was a guess, maybe it was luck; but she looked at me and she knew. And I knew.

"Ace… you win." She smiles. I guess because she just won. And I really like how she smiles. It feels warm and good… so good. And I find myself smiling too, really lightly, barely there but it's been a long time since I had an authentic smile. I am happy. I know, I could tell. And I am eager to explore it further, because I've never felt more alive in my life.

She gets tired and goes to the bar. I keep an eye on her. She doesn't look at me—not once. She is talking to Michael, the bartender. She eventually leaves around 6 p.m.; and I wonder how a woman like her can spend her time in this hole. She could be with a man, a boyfriend perhaps, or have to work or study something. But no, she was here. And on the inside, I know that all the old feelings were starting to rise up in me.

Days pass and she doesn't come anymore, I was… sad? And I guess disappointed. I start to pay more attention to people. It has been years since I haven't paid attention to people's behavior. I start to talk more with my co-workers, testing my words and my behavior with them. In the week that she had been gone, my interactions were semi-normal; and I am right again on track.

After exactly twenty-two days, she appears again. This time she isn't alone. An old man in his fifties is with her. Now, maybe I can't read people's emotions, but I can absolutely read their body language. And theirs say that it is not one of a father-daughter one. They've had a relationship.

I am tense and alive and I can feel all over again, with her. She doesn't see me, or even acknowledge me in any way. She is with that man playing and playing. I am… anxious. These are new emotions that I've never experienced before because I didn't have anybody to experience them with. Nobody that I really cared enough about to have them before. Now they are surging in a painful and odd way.

When she is leaning in on that man, I almost throw the cards to the floor, but I quickly restrain myself and stay in check. At the end of my shift, she is still there and I just go home. I don't know if it were a good idea to start "awakening" again. I was a numb person in a numb place. But at that the moment, she comes to my mind. I feel that I don't have a choice, so it's better do it the right way.

The next day, she doesn't show up. And I feel bad… really bad, depressed, sad, angry… jealous? Yes, I guess I don't want to know—but I feel bad in general. I think that I couldn't wait another month just to see her. I know where she lives; and this crazy and psychotic idea starts to form in my mind.

I actually wait two days, by the third day my mind is made up. I wait for my shift to end, and it takes a toll on me to work the courage not to take the bus at 8:15, because that would mean that my life isn't in control anymore—that my rules weren't safe and my life was a methodic chaos again. But I think she is worth it.

I walk to her apartment, and by 8:43 p.m. I am in front of her building. It's cold, so I just make myself comfortable on a bench in front of her apartment building, rubbing my hands with my legs and my torso. Her lights are on; and I thank God for it. It occurs to me that maybe I could… go into the building just to avoid the cold weather. But I knew better. It wouldn't be because of that. I take a chance and push at the building's door, and to my surprise, it swings open. This neighborhood seems quiet, but I was the last person to be a judge of its safety.

I see the stairs and just jump to the first step. The rest is like butter under my legs. I take one after another until I am on the fifth floor. There were two doors; numbers eleven and twelve. I wonder which she'll be in. I press my ear to door number eleven—to my right—and don't hear anything. Then I do the same with number twelve—to my left—and I could hear two women chatting and laughing… at least that much I knew.

I don't know what I was doing, only that I am standing at her door. Suddenly, behind number eleven, a sound interrupts me from my thoughts and I can hear her voice—because that was the same voice that soothed me. I don't know what I was thinking, or why I was here? What was my purpose? Damn! Like I care, I just need to see her. Just a quick glance.

I hear her voice getting louder. I chicken out and hide behind the stairs door. I see her open the door, a plastic bag in one hand and a phone in the other.

"Wait… I need to take out the garbage… wait, ok? I'll be right back." She throws the phone inside the house and I could hear the noise from the phone crashing against something. She makes a disapproving sound, then starts walking towards the stairs and I panic. I descend the stairs as quickly as I can and hide in the shadows. She is right behind me, but doesn't see me… I think. She opens the building door, goes outside for a couple of minutes and then gets back inside without the bag.

That was the first time I stalked her; and not the last one. God! I was sicker than I would have ever thought.

Every time I went to her house, I go upstairs, hear one conversation or two, if she was on the phone, say 'goodbye' in my mind and walk back to my house. By 10 p.m., I was home—sickly satisfied that I saw her or heard her that day.

This is bad. Really bad. This was a new kind of neurosis that was making my life more miserable than it already was.

Ten days passes and she comes back to the casino. On a Friday. She is again with a man, a different one, this time. One in his forties. This time when she sees me, she starts walking towards me. I feel sick and nervous. I bite my lip and start dealing cards. She sits in front of me, and I try counting cards to take the edge off my nerves. Eventually, at 7:40 p.m., the table is almost empty, occupied only by her and a middle-aged woman.

I am counting cards while looking at her. She is looking at me, but I can't figure out anything. Like always. Max comes up to me and 'Ludenberg's me for the night. I go to my dresser as always. After I'm done with my business, I start taking off my uniform when I heard heels approaching. And I just freeze.

"You. Were. Counting." She says. It isn't a question. I look around in the dimly-lit room, to see if there was somebody else. She's standing in the hallway. Since it is darker in the hallway, I couldn't see her until she takes a step and appears from behind the shadows.

"Did you?" I hear the inflection in her tone and recognize it as a question.

"Yes." Because I was.

"You are incapable of lying, aren't you?" I didn't catch her tone, but I think her question was rhetorical. I hoped so.

I wait for her next move, because I couldn't move for the life of me. She walks a few steps and sits on the bench. I know that if somebody from the Casino Personnel sees us like this, they would think the worst. The work rules were strict; that we can't talk to or with gamblers in or out of the building.

"So… you do that often? You play?" I do that often? Yes. I play? No.

"I count. I don't play."

"Never? Like, never ever?" Well… God, I can't concentrate when I'm looking at her legs… or her cleavage… Answer you, idiot!

"Sometimes, at home… with Dad." It was true.

"You gamble?"

"Never." She makes a face. I furrow my eyebrows trying to understand, maybe it was curiosity? Oh, I am tired. So tired.

"Well, I saw you out there and I was impressed. You are really fast! The best croupier I've seen in my life as a gambler." She laughs an easy laugh. It was easy, I know what it means, right? She stands up in front of my face, like from that time when she told me the 'robot' thing.

"You are cute. But kinda slow. How old are you?"

"Twenty-five."

"How long have you been a croupier?"

"A while. Three years, I guess."

"Mmmm, I'm Bella." she extends her hand. I know this gesture. I did the same thing.

"Edward," I introduce myself.

"So, Ed-ward…" Her tone is strong and she changes her tone in the last part.

"Have you ever thought of being a professional poker player? You play poker, right?"

"Yes, I play. And no, I don't plan to be a professional player."

"Well, let me tell you. You have the style. You act like a robot. You count, I can't even tell what you are thinking. Well, sometimes, like now—right now—you are scared, like shitless. Maybe because I'm a woman, right?"

"I… I… I don't know."

"I think with proper training you can play like a pro. Are you interested?" Was I? Maybe I was more interested in being with her—or knowing her—I just couldn't talk.

"Well, this is my card, with my mobile number on it. If you wanna try it, call me sweetypie." She leans into my face and kisses me on the cheek, while her hand meets my hand to put the card in it. And then she starts walking towards the exit of the dressing room. After that, I see Jasper enter and I hide the card in my pants' pocket.

"Edward? Ms. Swan was here?" His tone tells little about his mood.

"Bella… Bella was here," I say it without hesitation.

"Right… Bella Swan. So… was she lost? What did she want?" I know I can't say the truth, so I just lie, because I was a good liar.

"She was lost." Jasper looks at my eyes, searching, but I know that he can't find anything.

"You know… I thought that she was here hooking up with you." He smiled, I wasn't in trouble anymore.

"No, she was just lost."

"Man, chillax! I'm not judging you, but you know the rules. She is pretty, isn't she?"

"Yes." Oh more than pretty.

"But, man… those kinds of women are way out of our league. She is a gold-digger and loves gambling men into perdition. So, no thanks."

"What do you mean with 'perdition'?"

"You know, she's always with a different guy every month… old ones. She dries them up and then leaves them. I've never seen this girl with a younger man. So… maybe she has daddy issues," he tells me with a smile showing all his teeth. I had millions of questions, but I needed to think first and use the filter between my brain and my mouth.

"So, you know her?"

"Oh, hell no. I wish! But she's a frequent and she speaks with Marvin. He told me that she's really sweet, but is always looking for someone with money to pay for her luxuries, like gambling, which is really sad, since she is so young."

"How old is she?"

"Wow… wow! You like her, don't you?"

"I think that she's pretty, I think that she's too young too."

"I don't know man. I only know that she is a barely legal. I bet that she started gambling in high school, and was waiting to turn twenty-one to go to the big leagues."

"She is good. Wins 61% of the times." I say.

"61%? Shit! How do you know that?"

"I… like to count."

"I bet you do, don't tell the boss I told you this, but I count cards too, from time to time."

"Randy said he'd let me count, he said that as long as I don't fuck with the Casino, it would be ok. And he knows that I don't gamble."

"Really? Have you ever tried gambling before?"

"No, I don't gamble. Ever."

"Ok, man, I understand. That's good. Gambling is a death trap, like this Bella girl. Oh, man, I've seen in my six years here the most horrific balances of debts. There was this guy who had lost 137,000 dollars. He sold his house and even his daughter's car. And there's this woman, you don't even want to know what happened to her but it was brutal. I think that if this girl doesn't care of herself, she will end up that way, and she is just a pretty girl." His words stung. I start to worry, thinking all the horrific things that she was exposing herself to, gambling and losing. She had a good gust of wind, but that was spreading it thin. I need to help her, somehow… someway.