A/N: Okay, so here's the thing: I told myself I wouldn't update until Monday, but because I'm - what's the word? oh - ridiculous, I'm updating now. I'm using the excuse that my friend just had her second baby today, like she or the baby cares when I update this random story they know nothing about. Anyway - I hope you like this chapter, and please say a prayer for my friend, her husband and her children. Oh, and of course I proof-read this about eight times, but I always notice about five mistakes immediately after I post, so bear with me.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight universe, only the one inside my head, nor do I own Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist, no matter how much I may wish to. Oh, also, on a more serious note, I have a feeling the phrase "love him like breathing, like I get up every morning, like I put one foot in front of the other when I walk" did not come from my own mind. I don't know where else it could have came from, but just to be on the safe side, I might not own it.
Dedication: I dedicate this chapter, which was posted on the night of your birth, to baby Jana. May you see this one day in the far future and laugh until you fall out of your seat.
Chapter Three: In Which Nessie Makes a Promise
the way you're singing in your sleep
the way you look before you leap
the strange illusions that you keep
you don't know, but i'm noticing
- nick and norah's infinite playlist
-
"Renesmee!" I heard Alice call and tried my best to pretend I didn't hear her, which I knew wouldn't work. She was Alice.
"I am going to try nicely once more time. After that, I will bodily force you to do my bidding, do you understand?" Scary Aunt Alice said calmly from outside of the dressing room.
I let out a sound disturbingly close to a whine. I may be physically and mentally sixteen, but I am actually seven and long shopping trips make me whiny and irritable. At least that was my excuse.
"Renesmee Cullen, could you come out here please?"
I knew was my last chance to avoid public humiliation, so I unhappily pushed open the dressing room and emerged.
Scary Aunt Alice scrutinized me for a moment, before closing her eyes. I knew she was trying to see around all her blind spots.
"No, no!" She trilled, and I wanted to cry. "Next one!"
I dragged my feet back into the dressing room to try on another dress, at least the thirtieth that day. Mom and Rosalie didn't have to endure such tortures, because Alice could see clearly what they would be wearing. It almost made vampirism seem worth it.
I tried to appeal to Mom. No, begging was more like it. Literally, on my knees. But she went on and on about rites of passage and humoring Scary Aunt Alice and keeping her away from Charlie who wasn't sure he liked her as much anymore after her most recent episode where she marched into his house and informed him that she would be planning his wedding that she was supposed to know nothing about and that an oceanic theme was the best she could do with his original wishes. And that, sorry, there would be no fish.
Jacob was completely unsympathetic, muttering something about, "You're a girl, aren't you? Don't girls like that stuff?"
What did he mean, 'aren't you'? Just because I don't flitter around in heels and pink fingernail polish doesn't mean I'm not a girl.
Still, in retrospect, this offended me much more than it should have. I'm still not sure I was completely justified in suggesting to Scary Aunt Alice that Jake wear a tux. She of course was thrilled and grabbed the nearest notepad to begin sketching designs and I immediately felt bad.
Not too bad, though, since everyone, Jake included, has taken it upon themselves to become insane for the past week.
Alice has been generally insane (hence her being redubbed Scary Aunt Alice until the wedding is over and done with), which is no more than is to be expected and so I forgive her because she's Scary Aunt Alice and I know regular Alice will be back next week right after Charlie and Sue set off for their honeymoon. That doesn't give everyone else an excuse.
I know for a fact that Scary Aunt Alice is single-handling arranging the wedding, but everyone is still gone all hours of the day and muttering in corners all hours of the night and calling it wedding plans. Jacob follows me everywhere, and not much is different about that, except it feels more like he's watching me than spending time with me and I keep having these dreams and the strange tightness in my stomach that I don't understand and it makes so hard to look at him because every time I do, all I can think about is –
"Nessie?" Scary Aunt Alice asked, for once sounding not so scary. I decided to take pity on her, and pulled the next dress over my shoulders quickly without even looking at it so she wouldn't be kept in suspense. I knew she was dying to reject it.
I slouched out of the dressing room and to general astonishment (meaning myself and the run-ragged sales woman who'd been working with us since ten this morning), Scary Aunt Alice's eyes widened and her hands clapped to her mouth.
"Oh, Renesmee! Yes!" She squealed, hopping excitedly on the spot, sending the saleswomen ducking for cover behind a dress rack. "Yes, yes, yes! Oh, Nessie, look at yourself."
She pulled me around towards a mirror and I stared blankly for a moment. It was nice. The dress was knee-length and navy, fitted all the way down, with capped sleeves and what would have been a sweetheart neckline, except for the white sash fitted into the neck and tied above the bust in a style reminiscent of a sailor. There was a slice from the mid-thigh to knee on either side that flared out slightly to show the white satin underneath.
I actually liked it.
"It's great, Aunt Alice!" I exclaimed. I was only allowed to call her Scary Aunt Alice around Jacob and in my head.
"Yes, Nessie, this is definitely the dress for you!"
I sighed happily and traipsed back into the dressing room to change back into my comfy clothes. I thought that meant we were done.
How wrong I was. How very, horribly, terribly wrong.
-
By the time we made it back home, I was so tired I wanted to cry. My dress had to be fitted, then Alice decided that all the bridesmaids dresses should match exactly, but with contrasting colors, which was fine. Until the saleswomen tried to explain that it wasn't possible to get such a custom order done so quickly.
Poor woman. I shuddered as I remembered Alice's face as she turned on her. It took three corporate calls, a lot of angry French conversation, an entire brown bag full of money, and an extra fifteen minutes for Alice to rant simply to relieve her temper before we were ready to leave. The dress shop, I mean.
In Scary Aunt Alice's little world, the earth stops revolving without the perfect pair of shoes. Didn't I have shoes at home? Didn't she? The rows and rows of pointy, dangerous looking things in my closest that I never touched (except to throw at Jacob, but that was only once) – weren't those shoes? Apparently all of them were utterly unacceptable.
And so I tried. And tried. And tried.
And I walked, and turned, and spun.
Oh, the spinning. I whimpered at the thought.
"What are you crying about?"
I nearly jumped through my skin at the voice. I looked to see Jake's face in my window, grinning like a person who had not spent the day up to their ears in chiffon and stilettos.
I thought about taking my suffering out on him and telling him to leave, but then I realized that would entail him leaving and dropped that idea.
"I can't feel my feet." My voice was pathetic.
"So are you telling me," he said, sending the room into pitch blackness when his massive frame blocked the light as he climbed through the window. "That Renesmee Cullen, the half-vampire who runs halfway to Canada on a daily basis, hangs with werewolves and wrestles with the maniac Emmett, is afraid of high heel shoes?"
I vaguely registered that his comment was meant to be amusing or insulting, but I was too tired to care. I nodded yes. It was true, anyway.
He nudged me to make way for him so he could lay with me and I suddenly felt much more awake. I became hyper-aware of my hands and every dream I had within the last week came rushing back with full force. I looked up at him as he settled his hot arm around my shoulders and grinned, his teeth flashing white against his bright copper skin.
I tried to tell myself that this was okay, this was normal, this was my Jacob, but the tightness in my stomach returned and I squeezed my legs together, burying my face in his solid chest for a moment until I realized that that only made matters worse. The smell of the forest and his sweat swirled around me, making it hard for me to breathe. I inhaled sharply and I think it tickled him because his grip tightened for a second and a surprising jolt that I had only even felt in my dreams rocketed through me.
I squeezed my legs together harder this time and he noticed.
"Are you okay, Ness?" He asked, and I wondered how many times I'd heard that in the last few days.
"Mmhm," I mumbled, willing my body with all my power to calm down.
It was silent for a moment, and when Jake spoke it was with the air of someone clutching at straws.
"So . . . what'd you get?"
"Shoes," I spat out, unable to keep the bitterness from my voice as my feet ached. "And a dress, and other stupid, unimportant stuff."
I had the feeling Alice just might kill me if she caught me calling my "essentials and accessories" stupid, unimportant stuff.
"Can I see?" He asked, and the genuine interest in his tone actually made me look up. His neck was straining towards the shopping bags in the corner.
"Sure, why not?" I offered, shocked when the next thing I felt was the warm pillow under me as he was already across the room. The only solution I could come up with for his interest was that he was attempting to entertain me so I'd forget the throbbing in my legs.
Which reminded me – oh, the throbbing.
"But I'm not trying any of that stuff on for you; you'll just have to wait for the wedding. Alice promised I won't have to try anything else on until the day of and I'm holding her to it."
"Not even for me?" He said and pretended to pout as he emerged from the mountain of tissue paper and plastic with a navy pump in one hand and a white stiletto in the other.
"Sorry, Jake. I love you and all, but come near me with those things, and I'll go vampire on you." I threatened, only half kidding.
"So which is yours?" He asked.
He was laid out on his stomach on the floor with his chin resting on his forearms, both shoes set on the floor inches from his face as he inspected them. He seemed to find them much more interesting than me.
"Um . . . both." I winced as my eye caught the razor sharp heel of the white shoe, remembering the way it felt on my foot as Scary Aunt Alice forced me to circuit the tiny shop over and over again. "Scary Aunt Alice hasn't made up her mind yet. Don't you wish we weren't blind spots?"
"No," he said, pushing himself up into a cross-legged position. "I think it's awesome. Can I see your dress?"
I snorted at him. "I don't care, Jacob, knock yourself out."
"Which bag is it?" He questioned, staring at the mass of pink tissue paper he had unearthed in his quest for the shoes.
"It was in a pink bag, I think." It was blurry, since my brain does its best to block out painful memories. "What did you do today?"
"Ran patrol," he answered absently, dangling a delicate gold bracelet out in front of him before attempting to attach it to his huge wrist. Naturally, it wouldn't even reach halfway. "Then Billy cooked so I went and ate with him and then Embry called so – all of these are pink, how am I supposed to know which one? – anyway, Embry had a date and he needed a shirt or something stupid so he came over for a little bit – aha!"
He unsheathed the dress like a prize and shook it out in front of him. He was so tall, he could hold it out straight in front of him while he sat and it wouldn't touch the ground. My mind was still stuck on the word date.
"E-Embry had a date?" I tried to sound casual, but I wasn't sure I managed. Jacob didn't look my way so I hoped I succeeded. Talk of dating in general always made me nervous – I was worried Jake would be influenced somehow, get a girlfriend and leave me behind. I wonder sometimes why he hadn't already.
"Yeah, some girl named Lizzie – I hooked them up, they both like cars. This is really pretty, Nessie – I can't wait to see it on you."
I blushed tomato red at his comment, but the beginning of his sentence did not escape me.
"So you know her?" I pried, feeling ridiculous but unable to stop. "Is she pretty?"
He lowered the dress and appeared to think about it for a second. I watched with a little too much interest as he pushed his hair back out of his face, paid a little too much attention to the way his muscles carried out the action – tendons and muscles straining and sliding together under copper skin.
"I guess so," He told me as he folded the dress up and put it back. "Embry thinks so . . . I mean, she's not ugly or anything. I guess I never really paid that much attention."
This made me happier than it should.
"So, why didn't you?" I said, finally getting to the question I was most afraid and most eager to ask. "Go out with her, I mean."
He dropped whatever was in his hand – earrings by the look of it – and stared at me as if I'd grown another head.
"I don't date," he said, and his voice was strange. He left no room for argument, no space for doubt.
"Why not?" I continued, again, knowing I should stop but being unable to.
I watched as he got up and settled himself on the edge of my bed. He took my sore feet absently in his hands and began rubbing them. I was nervous to have him so close while we talked of such things, but my feet really did ache, and I couldn't help but groan as his thumb dug into my arch.
His eyes snapped to look at me and I felt heat rise in my face. The sound that escaped as he rubbed my feet, innocent enough, sounded eerily similar to a sound I had made in my dream last night. Jacob looked down at his hands and seemed to shake something off, but he didn't stop.
"Well, I don't need to, Ness," he said, and traced a fingernail across the ball of my foot. "I don't want to. I mean, what are girlfriends for?"
"Well, for talking to and hanging out with and making you happy," I supplied and he nodded. "For . . . being together and having fun and having somebody."
He nodded again.
"I hang out with you and I have fun with you," he said tentatively, and the way he looked at me made me feel strange. "And being with you makes me happy, and I have people. I have Billy and your family even though some of us don't always get along and I have the pack and I have you."
"But it's not the same," I insisted. "I have people too. I have my vampire family and Grandpa Charlie and . . . and you, but . . . don't you – "
I leaned back onto the pillows, not even realizing that I'd pulled myself up into a sitting position during our conversation. What was I getting myself into?
" – don't you ever want somebody who's just for you? Who wants you and only you? Who's just your own?"
"Do you?" He asked back and his eyes were soft in the light.
I couldn't answer. I could, but I couldn't. I had an answer, but I wasn't sure if it was right and I wasn't sure if it was what I wanted and even if it was, I couldn't tell him because he can't feel the same way and if he doesn't then I'd lose my Jake forever.
What was I even talking about? Did I want to . . . kiss Jacob? For real? For real, for real? Not in a dream, but here in real life? Did I want to be with him and call him my boyfriend and hold his hand and . . .
Damage control. I had to backtrack and fast. I pried my feet from his grip and gently shoved him in the chest.
"I'm talking about you, stupid," I tried to say, but it came out a whisper.
Jacob heard me anyway. He smiled my Jacob's smile and the sun shone in my bedroom at eleven o'clock at night. He grasped my foot and held it against the place where I shoved and I could feel his heart beating against my sole. I curled my toes into his chest, trying to pinch him, but all I could grasp was his t-shirt.
"Never mind, I don't even know what I'm talking about anyway." I tried to move my foot, but he still had hold on it, so I didn't pull away. I didn't want to. "I'm just being dumb. Ignore me like usual."
He let my foot go and I automatically curled it under me. It felt cold.
"I'm your best friend, Nessie, right?" He asked, unsure, and I was shocked. I looked him straight in the eye for the first time a week and he looked sad. I felt terrible.
"Of course, Jacob. Of course you're my best friend." And before I knew it, my arms were around him and my cheek was on his shoulder. "Who else would it be, Jake? Who else?"
He was warm and felt like home and no strange half-welcome feelings came bursting forth. Just my sun with his arms around me. I felt bereft when he pulled away.
"Then you should talk to me," he said gently, and I could see how my weirdness the past week had really hurt him. "If something's wrong with you, or you need to tell me something, you always can. I promise I won't get angry or . . . or laugh, or any of the other stupid things I do, okay?"
"Okay," I whispered, and tried to reach forward to him again, but he held me back. "D'you promise?"
I thought about it. My sun, my Jacob, my favorite wolf boy. My best friend, my - not brother . . . something else, then? I thought about my family, and Jacob and how he was my family and he wasn't. How he meant as much as them but didn't fit. Yet he was there.
I thought about how his very nature was to destroy them, my family, his family. I thought about how he didn't, how they all worked against their instincts to be together and now we were a real family. I thought about how I was somehow at the center of it all and wondered why.
Could I promise? Could I promise and keep it? I don't think I would have to tell him about the dreams, because even I don't understand them yet and it would just embarrass us both. Maybe just about the weird stomach thing, then? Maybe he knew what it was? I didn't have to tell him that it only happened when I dreamed of him or he kissed my cheek or held me to his chest or pinned me to the ground . . . .I didn't have to tell him how hard it was not to kiss him right now. Did I? If I promised, did I have to do that? I didn't think I did.
I loved Jake – but did I love him right? Could you love somebody wrong? I love him like breathing – like I get up every morning, like I put one foot after another when I walk. I love him like a fact, a given, an involuntary action. Was that right?
"I promise, Jacob," I whispered and buried my face in his neck. "I promise."
Yayness. I really love the dialogue in this chapter, so let me know what you think!
