A/N- thank you to everyone who reviewed and read the last chapter. i'm writing this pretty quick, so the updates should be pretty regular.
thanks to sah004 who continues to kick my horrible spelling ass.
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Sometimes, life goes just the way I want it. Like when the flower delivery guy comes exactly at 7 am, and has an extra bunch of seasonal flowers for me. And then there's the other, less exciting route. Case in point, my attempt to avoid Emma's new attachment.
Like some sort of cruel joke, Em has decided that Edward and I are two pieces of the same puzzle. And this warrantsher needing to go over, in detail, every interaction they'vehad. My insight has apparently made this relationship easier. Better than my recent efforts.
So I now know more about Edward Cullen then I do about some of my closest friends. Things like, he likes maple syrup with his bacon, hates everything to do with shaving, and someday hopes to own at least two dogs. All this knowledge makes me feel like a peeping Tom. Knowing so much about a stranger, who knows nothing about me.
Our morning talks have become a dread. I've even missed a few, in an effort to slow this leak of information on all things Edward Cullen. The guilt I feel when I hit the ignore button every time my sister call, pales in comparison to the agony of having to listen to more of her stories.
Because the name now has a face. No more fuzzy images of lips and hands, but a full photo album devoted to their courtship on my sister's Facebook page. Pictures mostly taken with his iPhone. Their faces pressed close to fit in the frame. The background and their outfits, changing with every shot. One shottaken at the concert I envied so much, and then three more taken at shows with equally enviable bands. The pairat the park for an outdoor play, at a farmers market, the movies, the list goes on.
And if the locations weren't enough to make the simmer of my jealousy rise, there was the reality of Edward. He was neither cheesy nor blonde. Two things that usually ensured my sister and I keeping our tastes apart. Instead, Edward was lanky and tall, with an unruly head of brown hair that revealed hidden reds in the light. His face usually covered by a couple of days of scruff, due to the previously mentioned hate of shaving.
Together, this package was worse than the things I had imagined. Edward wasn't Emma's type at all. So, I was left to "hmm" and "haw"through conversations with my sister. To act like helping her unfold the mystery that Edward was to her didn't tear at me piece by piece. Because he wasn't a mystery to me.
When she raged about him not wanting to go out with her usual friends, I talked her down, saying that he might prefer a more low key environment. And I was right. I was right because we were from the same puzzle, and it sucked ass.
The worst of all the conversationswas when I was informed that Edward would be coming home with Emma for the Christmas break. I spit my morning tea across my workbench when she told me. The only thing worse than knowing your sister was dating someone you wish you were, was seeing it in action.
My parents are beside themselves with excitement. Emma hasn't brought someone home since she moved away, and my mother hasn't been shy about saying that this might be her chance at grandbabies.
I fiddle with my radio and internally curse living closer to the airport than my parents. Bon Iver flows through the speakers and I relax just a little. I need an escape from my mind, even if it's only a small one.
Traffic trickles forward, and I fiddle with the hem of my shirt. There was an unexpected rush at the shop before closing, and I didn't get the chance to change like I'd wanted.There had been a plan. I was going to change into something that didn't have fertilizer and flower stains across the front. There should have been time for me to attempt to tame my hair. No luck again.
My lip finds its way between my teeth, and I chew on them, hoping to ease my nerves. The airport circles into view and I pick up my phone.
"Bella! Are you here? We're waiting on the departures level, like Daddy always tells us to," Emma rambles without greeting. I chuckle against my nerves.
"Yeah, traffic was awful. Wait for me under the United sign?" I ask. I swerve the car towards the right ramp.
"We're under the Delta sign Bella. Edward's got one of those hideous beanies on." Emma shrieks as Edward protests in the background. His voice sounds deep and melodic. I am so screwed. The Delta sign comes into view, and I issue a silent plea to have Edward be less of everything I think he is.
I see the mentioned beanie before anything else, and I wish I could say I thought it was hideous. The rush of warmth I feel as his face comes into view solidifies my decision. There's only one way to deal with this.
The car door is ripped open before I even come to a full stop.
"Bella!" Emma sings, launching herself across the car at me. I give her an awkward hug before climbing out of the car. Edward is already putting the bags in the trunk as I round the car. He smiles softly at me and I steel myself. I offer a short smile.
"I'm Bella," I offer. I keep my hands to myself, not willing to risk even a handshake. He smiles widely at me and I almost fall back at the sight.
"Edward, but I'm guessing you knew that given my beanie," he teases. I smile tersely again and walk around him to my sister. She launches herself at me again, her lips resting near my ear.
"Isn't he fantastic? I know you're going to love him," she breathes. And she's already found the problem. She then takes over. Emma begins to detail their flight, including the crying baby two rows in front of them. Both Edward and I settle into the car, seemingly content with our silence.
While Emma dialogues, I glance at Edward in the rearview. As she complains about the lack of adequate healthy snacks on airplanes, I take in Edward's features. The scar across his left eyebrow, the bump in his nose, the patch of skin where hair won't grow that disturbs his attempt at a beard.
The flaws in people have always been my niche. While most girls looks for perfection, I want the imperfection. The things that make someone different, the stories you can find in scars, always drew me in.
"Lord, this is one of those bands you've been trying to get me to listen to," Emma sighs as she reaches for the volume dial. Bon Iver fills the car. Edward meets my eyes in the mirror, and I drop my gaze instantly.
"Your sister doesn't seem to appreciate real talent," he chuckles. Emma turns in her seat to smack at him. Their laughter fills the car. My teeth grit subconsciously. Eventually, the noise dies down.
"You and Edward should have a music swap. Get it out of his system, so he can leave me alone for a while," Emma suggests. The warmth swells up again, but I kick it back down.
"I'm sure there are a lot of things Edward would rather do then trade CDs with me," I sigh. Emma, as usual, doesn't hear my words.
"She's got this insane obsession with old records. She raided my parents' whole collection and spends most of her time at these grungy records stores looking for more," Emma spews. I reach across the car and flick her on the arm.
"Owww. Goddamn Bella. What was that about? It's just Edward. He doesn't care," she defends. Only Edward, I wish.
"I have the same weak spot. I've been looking for a decent copy of The Beach Boys Pet Sounds forever," he says. He's making my plan hard to stick to. I shake my head and keep my eyes on the road.
"Ignore her. She's probably just in business mode," Emma excuses me. I take the east out, my mind drifting away from this car and the stifling presence of Edward. The drive passes, and I've never been happier to see my childhood home come into view.
Renee rushes out of the door and immediately captures Emma and Edward. I take a few moments in the car. His smell still swirls around me, and I finally take it in. It's subtle and natural, and I can only take a few breaths before I seek refuge in the fresh air.
"Left with bag duty again huh kid?" I look up to see my dad circling the car. I offer him a half smile and pop the trunk.
"You see that kid your sister brought home? Never thought I'd see the day Emma put up with a man not shaving every day," he chuckles. I nod wordlessly. At least I'm not the only one who sees the oddity. We pull the bags from the trunk and I let my dad take the heavy ones.
"I'm sorry, I can take those." My head whips up as Edward approaches. He stretches out his hands, trying to take the bags from my dad. My dad shakes his head and pulls the bags out of reach.
"We've go it under control here son. You go in and humor my girls," my dad instructs. Edward rocks back on his heels and takes the pair of us in. I drop my eyes.
"Two of your girls," Edward corrects. We all stop our progress towards the house.
"Excuse me?" my dad laughs. Edward turns his head, disguising the tone of his words with a smile.
"One of your girls is right here. So I would only be humoring two," Edward rattles off. My face flames. I've overlooked my dad's preference for years, happy to be his buddy rather than his little girl. Dad lets his eyes bounce between Edward and I several times before clearing his throat.
"Yeah, of course," he states. He then rushes through the door first, leaving Edward and I on the porch alone. He looks at me long and hard, making me feel even less comfortable in my skin. He opens his mouth for a moment, but I beat him to the punch.
"Emma's gonna want to show you around. You should go in," I tell him. His mouth snaps shut. He swallows and looks to his feet before leaving me. I wait, giving him enough time to be out of my path before entering.
His words bounce around in my mind, coupling with all my knowledge and gaining momentum. Creating a more appealing picture, which is the last thing I need.
The night passes quickly, a blur of my mother combined with Emma. With all their excitement and words, I easily fade into the background. Edward fits in seamlessly. Taking my mother's inquisition with ease and confidence. More information enters my file of Edward Cullen.
His family doesn't mind him missing the holiday because he lives close to home. He sees them all a couple times a month at the least and they were willing to spare him with the promise we could do the same with Emma sometime soon.
Just the suggestion of a continued future twists my stomach. I beg out of dessert and retreat to my childhood room. Their laughter continues to haunt me through the floorboards. I turn on the boom box, smiling at the Pixies CD left there. I twist the volume high enough to drown out the voices below.
My bed swallows me as I lay down and I close my eyes for a moment.
My body jars awake and my eyes struggle to see in the darkness. I find the red numbers on the alarm clock and groan. Midnight. So much for a full nights sleep. I slide out of bed and apologize to my lower body for falling asleep in jeans. I bump my way towards my dresser and peal my jeans off. Once replaced with high school swim team sweats, I feel instantly better.
Acting out of old habits, I make my way to the kitchen. The fridge light burns my eyes as I pour a glass of water. My hands curl around the cool glass and I slink into the living room and down into the couch. Sleep has always evaded me. My parents tolerated my nighttime restlessness, as long as it didn't affect school. Now they accept it as part of who I am.
The TV casts a soft light around the room and I flick through channels before finding something somewhat relaxing. I squirm further into the couch and pull a blanket over me. My mind calms and I allow the comforts of my childhood to lull me.
"Twilight Zone?" Edward's soft voice knocks me out of my cocoon of safety. I jump and then twist to face him. He smiles somewhat apologetically and holds up his hands.
"I didn't mean to scare you. I guess I'm not the only one who can't sleep," he offers. I don't speak. I turn my eyes back towards the screen. On so little sleep, I'm not as capable of keeping him at arms length. The couch dips, and then he's there, just inches from my toes.
"My dad and I watch this marathon every year," he says. There aren't words. The things I want to say would simply be tethering myself to him, and that is not allowed. The black and white image on the screen isn't as interesting as the man sitting next to me, but my decision was made for me.
We continue like that for a while, the ironic punch line of the episode passing, and the next starts up. I begin to relax again, leaning on the edge of the couch. A heavy sigh breaks our mutual silence.
"Did I do something wrong?" Edward asks. His voice is soft, pleading even. I swallow thickly and dart my eyes towards him briefly. I shake my head, not trusting my voice. How do you explain this to a rational person?
"I thought you'd be the easy one to win over. I mean, the way your sister talks about you, I figured we'd get on like white on rice," he states. I can't help the laugh that slips out. He grins in my direction, and I know I have to abandon the plan. He didn't do anything wrong except fall for my sister, and I can't really hold that against him.
"No one else likes Twilight Zone. I'm only allowed to watch when everyone else is asleep," I offer. I'm hoping he takes hold of my olive branch. He shifts minutely closer.
"What's your favorite one?" he asks. His eyes are bright, his face curious. I smile and turn a little towards him. I keep the blanket as my shield, hoping that something will protect me from this hole I am digging myself.
"I'm partial to the retirement home," I admit. Out of the corner of my eyes I can see his head bobbing in agreement.
"I always loved the time stopping watch," he replies. I smile over at him and it begins. The words I had been holding back all day come pouring from my mouth. He laughs and offers his own answers when asked. Emma was right. I pretend not to know a staggering amount of information beforehand, as he gives me the answers in his own words.
Our musical tastes match almost to a 't', our only variance splitting around country music.
"No. There is no redeemable mentions," he argues. I chuckle and lean even closer to him, eager to change his mind.
"You do know that a lot of bands you claim to love can be classified as country, right? Wilco? Johnny Cash?" I point out. He groans and positions his hand over his heart like I inflicted damage.
And there isn't a low point. The conversation stretches out, the information I want and he asks for, seemingly never-ending. My eyelids droop as the sun rises in the sky. I remember giving one last jab against Facebook before falling asleep. Sleep for once takes me in whole-heartedly.
"Bella!" I blink my eyes open to see Emma leaning over me. I stretch and stir, and then freeze when my legs tangle with something hard. Instantly, I sit up and take in Edward's sleeping form, our legs twisted together in the middle of the couch.
"I didn't know he fell asleep too. I'll just…" Emma laughs and shoves me a little.
"Momma wants you to run to the store," she states. I feel my face twist in confusion. I expected anger, something more. Not wanting to press my newfound luck, I nod and extract myself. The perfect excuse to run before having to face my sleepover buddy. I need a new plan.
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What'd you think of Emma? Edward? let me know!