All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.
Yawning, I swung my legs up into Edward's cool sheets, shivering because autumn had started making chilly the outside air. Sometimes I'd see faint tinges of red blushing the tips of the still mostlygreen leaves, and there would be an absence clouds in the sky; no, not one, because it was getting cold.
Edward was reading. He licked his finger absently and turned the page, the crisp crinkle of paper the only sound in the room. I kept meaning to bring books with me but the purpose I came was to rest, not read, and so I never brought anything but myself.
"What?" he murmured, his eyes scanning the page.
"What?" I echoed, scooting down further beneath the blankets.
"You're watching me," he noted, still reading. Or pretending to.
"I'm not."
"You are," he said, irritation and finality coloring his tone.
"Why do you even bring me here?" I asked, trying to keep desperation out of my own voice.
"Why do you ask me to?" he countered, looking darkly amused.
"I-I don't know," I sighed. "I sleep better."
"I hope so," he snorted.
"Forget it," I whispered, tearing the blankets off and getting quickly to my feet. I dragged my sweater back on and toed my flip flops on to my feet, mired in silent self-deprecation for not having worn better shoes.
"What, you're walking home?" he mocked. "At this time?"
"You're an ass," I said, squeezing back the warm gush of tears behind my eyelids. "Sometimes I hate you."
"You don't know me well enough to hate me," he said, not moving from his spot.
Ignoring that, I walked right out of his bedroom, angry but quiet, passing his parent's and sister's rooms. Down the hall and then the stairs, across the foyer and out the door, mentally willing him to come after me, to chase me, bring me back.
Thirty two minutes later I entered my yard, chilled to the bone and more tired than I'd been in a while.
I refused to cry, though.
Charlie's early morning wakeup call went unheeded and I rolled over instead, exhausted and lackluster. He came back when I didn't come out, slowly coming inside my room.
"Bella?"
"Not today, Dad. I'm not feeling too good."
He cleared his throat, ruffling my hair, awkwardly affectionate. "Okay, I'll let the school know."
"Thanks," I mumbled into my pillow.
A few minutes later the house shook with the force of the front door closing. I listened as Charlie's cruiser started and left the driveway before settling into an uneasy sleep.
My cell phone's incessant ringing woke me up.
"Hello?" I croaked.
"Can you let me in? It's raining," Edward said through static.
Thinking I should have just let him freeze, I pulled a bigger t shirt on over my pajamas so my nipples wouldn't be poking through and went downstairs.
"What?" I asked, scowling.
"What?" he repeated, frowning. "What's wrong with you? Why weren't you at school?"
"Why do you even care?"
"I care, just not the way you care," he shrugged.
"I'm sick," I turned my back on him and went to the kitchen for some coffee.
"You can't come over tonight then," he said. "We have the big game tomorrow and I don't want to get sick."
"Thanks a lot," I muttered. "I don't want to come anyway."
"Thought you couldn't sleep here," he said.
I shrugged, stirring creamer into my coffee.
"Ask the cowboy," he said, already halfway out my door again.
"What?" I was so frigging sick of his cryptic crap.
"My neighbor, Jasper Hale."
"Ask him what?" I snapped, following him out to my porch.
"To pick you up later."
"I don't even know him," I retorted, wondering why I was still talking to this idiot.
"You hardly know me," he smirked, sliding into the front seat of his car.
I wished I didn't know him at all.
