Ficawesome Gift Exchange- TAKE 2
Title: Miles to Go
Written for: Skychaser
Rating: T for language and themes
Prompt: 'The distance from A to where you'd Be is only finger lengths that I see'
Summary: Bella Swan is about to embark upon a road trip to rainy Forks, Washington, to visit her boyfriend Jake when on a whim she offers a lift to a hitch hiker. Little does Bella know that this man will alter not only her views of the world but ultimately, her future. AU and AH.
If you would like to see all the stories that are part of this exchange then please visit the Facebook group Fanficaholics Anon: Where Obsession Never Sleeps.
Chapter Three
'Bright Lights and Road Roar'
Bella's POV
Cullen snored like a pig, which I should have figured really since pretty much everything he did was obnoxious in some way. Something about hearing the loud, animalistic snorts coming from the sleeping Adonis-like figure was so very wrong, and yet I briefly considered recording the whole thing on my cell phone. My motivation of course was the prospect of posting it at a later date on YouTube and hoping that I could dent his mammoth ego just a little. However, the idea was quickly dismissed since it was taking all of my effort to keep my eyelids from closing. I figured that any attempt to add holding a camera into the mix would surely end in disaster. The highway up ahead was deserted and so I hazarded a glance at the clock on the dash, which informed me that the time was fast approaching midnight.
I had been driving for ten hours in total since my departure from Phoenix that morning. The last rest stop I had taken had been back at the diner and in my effort to plough through the journey in record time, I had since stubbornly refused to pull over for anything other than gas. Cullen had been subdued since his earlier outburst, never apologising as such but steering the conversation into less treacherous waters. We talked music, travel, food, and sports, but never anything so controversial that it may end in conflict. I was surprised to discover that many of our tastes were similar, including our mutual and admittedly obscure appreciation of Hammer House of Horror movies. The conversation had come to a natural halt a few hours ago.
Using his duffel bag as a makeshift pillow, Cullen had fallen into a deep slumber within minutes. I had to admire his ability to shut off so quickly. My own mind seemed to race for hours past the point of my body crying out for sleep. I had experimented with numerous pills over the months as well as the usual warm bath and hot drink routines. Nothing short of a couple of heavy duty tranquilisers had as of yet proved successful. However, Renee had kicked up a fuss after a while about her daughter 'self medicating' and my pills had been flushed down the toilet, quite literally. Instead, I lay awake in the darkness, listening to the sounds of traffic from the ever busy street outside, and turned over my thoughts again and again.
Cullen let out a rousing chorus of snorts before mumbling something incoherent and then swiping at his nose with a balled up fist. A lock of reddish hair had fallen in front of his face and was tickling his nostrils. I giggled and then bit down on my bottom lip to keep from making too much noise. Despite the inhuman sounds escaping him, Edward seemed peaceful and I was reluctant to wake him. Carefully, I reached across my seat and brushed the piece of hair away, my fingertips sliding across the sculptured curve of his cheekbone. In his sleep, Edward smiled; not the arrogant and infuriating grin that I had come to loathe, but instead a soft and warm subtle curve of his lips that caused my hammering heart to still in my chest. He really was beautiful. Suddenly, I withdrew my hand and placed it back on the wheel, pierced by guilt as my thoughts turned to Jake.
Cullen was not the sort of guy I wanted to get mixed up with, of that I was confident. I only had to think of my brushes with his sister to know that.
x-x-x
I was already late for fifth period but by this point the call of nature was practically a scream that I was frightened to ignore. The second floor girls' bathroom was located several feet from my Spanish class and so I figured that I wouldn't be overly late if I made a quick pit stop on my way. It was only my second week back at Paradise Valley High and I had already accumulated more tardy slips than the average student did in a whole semester. Renee was on my back big time about dropping my attitude and I had promised Jake during his last call that I would make a small effort to please her so she didn't cut our contact all together.
Before I had even emerged from my cubicle, the main door swung open and slammed hard against the wall. The sounds of sobbing were obvious and interspersed by the kind of hiccups caused by someone distraught attempting to catch their breath in the middle of a killer crying jag. I paused, my hand on the lock, wondering if it would be better for me to stay concealed or to reveal myself and offer some comfort to whoever was in a puddle on the restroom floor. A glance at my watch aided my decision and, taking a deep breath, I slipped out of the cubicle.
"A-are you o-okay?" I stammered, feeling dumb for even asking the question. When a girl cries the way this one was, she clearly was a couple of stop signs away from 'ok'. My eyes focused on the back of a slim blonde figure, who hunched over the counter with trembling shoulders. The girl barely acknowledged my presence and so I approached the sinks to wash my hands.
"You got a light?"
I froze, recognizing the voice instantly. I stared askance at Rosalie Cullen who was watching me with an expectant expression spread across a tearstained face. Even in the midst of her obvious devastation she looked like a supermodel, all high chiselled cheekbones and smooth golden hair. Her complexion was near flawless but her tears had caused a thick track of black mascara to ink down her cheeks. Dumbly, I shook my head as my eyes ticked to the unlit cigarette that she held in her right hand. Sighing, Rosalie jammed the cigarette back into her pocket.
"Should I get someone for you?" I inquired, wiping my now wet hands on the legs of my pants. Rosalie dabbed delicately at her ruined makeup with a tissue and I watched her with evident curiosity. Rosalie was the captain of the cheerleading squad and the younger sister of Edward Cullen, probably one of the most desirable and wealthy guys in the entire school. Rosalie was one of those people that always seemed surrounded by a tribe of adoring followers who hung off her every word, no matter how inane it may be. She was dating Emmett McCarty, a linebacker on the football team who was built like a grizzly with an attitude to match. The idea of hauling him to the girls' bathroom to deal with his hysterical girlfriend did not fill me with joy. Secretly, I was hoping that the issue was something that could be fixed with a tampon and a bar of Mr. Big.
Thankfully, Rosalie shook her head, her lip curling into a sneer.
"No, thank you," she replied, her tone polite but her countenance furious, "they couldn't care less."
"I'm sorry," I replied almost on instinct. It was all I could think of and mostly a gut reaction but I winced at how lame I sounded. Rosalie glanced at me, her expression one of surprise, and for just a moment she graced me with a small smile. Her whole face seemed younger with the gesture, which was all too fleeting.
"Do you wanna talk?" I asked after a moment's hesitation. I never expected her to take me up on the offer. It wasn't as if we ran with the same crowd. In fact, my current cool factor was teetering on the precipice of making me chess club material. Rosalie seemed to ponder the proposition for a while, still scrubbing her spoiled makeup from her skin. When she was finished she balled up the tissue and tossed it towards a trash can.
"He thought I'd never find out, apparently," she spat, sniffling as she fought to contain a second overspill of tears.
"Oh," was my only reply as I watched Rosalie begin to reapply lip gloss from a tube she pulled out of her book bag. The liquid was almost cerise in colour and would have looked ridiculous on any other woman.
"My best friend," she seethed, her voice rising an octave despite her attempts at composure. I noted her hand shaking as she worked but despite this her makeup came out flawless. "My best fucking friend."
I racked my brain hard as I attempted to recall exactly who Rosalie was talking about. I had most often seen her with a diminutive girl named Alice, who sported a short but chic spiky haircut and a personality that hinted she should have been on Ritalin. As far as I was aware, Alice was hooking up with a guy named Jasper who played guitar in some band and was one of those 'serious' musicians who walked around looking like he was constipated to make the girls hot for him.
"Can you believe it?" Rosalie demanded, one eyebrow arched in my direction. I shook my head, aware that my mouth was open a little. Rosalie seemed not to notice and continued with her tirade instead, "That dick. I gave him everything, and this is how he repays me?"
"Sucks," I murmured, hoping my tone was suitably sympathetic. I was now beginning to get a fairly clear idea of what was bothering Rosalie and I cast my gaze nervously towards the floor.
"He's been screwing around with her behind my back for weeks," Rosalie hissed, her eyes practically slits now as she peered at me.
"How... how did you find out?" I asked. I chewed nervously on my bottom lip as I awaited a response.
"It doesn't matter," Rosalie replied dismissively, beginning to fling her makeup back into her bag. She tossed her blonde mane over her shoulder and my heart ached for her just a little.
"You deserve more than him you know," I said softly, jamming my hands into my pocket in a gesture that looked awkward. Rosalie paused and turned to regard me with her head cocked. I continued, "You could have any guy in this school you want and you're wasting your time on a loser like him."
"So you believe it then?" Rosalie muttered, staring thoughtfully at the tiled floor as she turned my words over in her mind.
"I..." I hesitated and then the words suddenly spilled from my lips in a rush that I had little control over. "I saw them about a week ago. I was out with my mom for dinner and they were holding hands in the line for the movies. They kind of... kissed and stuff."
I trailed off, knowing that Rosalie did not need me to illustrate for her exactly what 'stuff' entailed. It had been my Mom who had in fact noticed the overtly friendly couple in line for the movies. Their hands were interlaced tightly and their bodies pressed close, lips meeting at intervals. It had taken me a few moments to put names to the faces but as Emmett McCarty had slipped his hand inside the back pocket of Alice Brandon's jeans I had recognised the pair. It was obvious that they were together in a more than friendly capacity and I had been surprised by their audacity. The petting had risen to the kind of proportions that had made me uncomfortable and I had looked away before they started removing layers of clothing in the street.
Rosalie continued to stare at the floor, her expression unreadable.
"You're better off without a guy like that," I said, a lump suddenly rising in my throat as I awaited a response from Rosalie, "and a so-called friend who'd do that to you."
"Wow," Rosalie murmured, finally raising her gaze to meet mine. Her eyes were cold and hard as they bored into me, and I realised that somewhere I had overstepped the mark.
"I... I'm sorry..." I stuttered, beginning to walk backwards towards the door in my sudden urge to reach Spanish class, "this is none of my business."
Too late. Rosalie closed the distance between us in three long strides and grabbed a fistful of my hair in one hand, yanking my head roughly to one side.
"How dare you," she spat, her nose inches away from my face, "you fucking liar!"
"I..." I choked out, unsure of how to respond and in pain from the grip she had on my hair, "it's the truth."
"No, no way," she screeched, tugging hard on my hair and causing me to yelp in pain. "I don't believe you. You're making this up... you and that bitch Jessica Stanley... you're just trying to break me and Em up... you're all pathetic, jealous little losers with nothing better to do."
"I'm sorry," I repeated, my eyes widening and tears beginning to brim as I realised that Rosalie's wrath had suddenly become redirected.
"You will be," she snarled, releasing me and shoving me backwards in one fluid movement. My back struck the wall and my breath rushed from my lungs, causing me to cough uncontrollably. I forced my trembling legs to allow me to remain standing and stared at Rosalie in confusion.
"I will make you so fucking sorry you'll be begging your parents for another transfer," she stated, her words dripping with malice. Casting a backwards glance at me, Rosalie swept her bag from the counter and swung it up onto her shoulder. I barely registered the soft swish of the door as it swung closed again, signifying her exit.
I never did make it to Spanish class.
x-x-x
My teeth gritted as I recalled my first exchange with Rosalie Cullen, self proclaimed princess of PVH. She had been as good as her word, ensuring that practically every day that had followed had been filled with ridicule and torment for me. Mere hours later I had watched her walk down the corridor with Emmett on her arm, chattering happily to Alice who bounced along beside her without a care in the world. I had pressed myself against my locker, hoping to blend in with the grey metal, but all three had shot me a simultaneous glare that had made my blood run cold. Seconds later, Emmett had flung a can of soda in my face whilst the rest of the students pointed and laughed. It was the first of many incidents that were too numerous for me to recall each one. They had included my head being flushed down a toilet, the stick insects from Biology being released in my locker, and my bag being stuffed with stink bombs that had simultaneously deployed when I dropped it onto the floor in English.
Shaking my head, I hazarded another glance at Edward who remained sleeping. He had never really entered into the teasing to give him credit, but neither had he attempted to put a stop to it despite being wholly aware of the situation. I supposed that I was not his responsibility but I felt that to an extent reigning in Rosalie should have been.
Although my information had been ill received, I had only been trying to help. I had wondered at the time how I would have felt if the rumours had concerned Jake and some girl, and decided that I would definitely wish to know about any infidelities on his part. I guessed that Rosalie preferred to remain blinkered on the other hand, and not to sully her perfect existence with such confusing betrayals.
The blaring of a car horn wrenched me abruptly from my reverie and I glanced out of the windscreen in time to see a petrol truck careering head on towards the Aveo. The headlights were near blinding and bright spots danced before my eyes.
I realised that somehow in my semi-conscious state I had allowed the car to swerve into the wrong lane and was now facing the oncoming traffic, which had failed to be a problem until now. A scream rose in my throat but never quite made it to the surface as suddenly I felt a second pair of hands on the wheel. For a moment I fought against the strong and persistent tugging, until a harshly barked string of profanities cut through me like a knife.
"Let go of the fucking wheel, Bella!" Edward yelled, his body pinning my own back against my seat. Without a word, I complied and my hands went slack on the steering wheel.
Tyres screeched in protest, adding to the din that the truck's horn was creating. The scream I had been threatening finally spilled from my lips, loud and bloodcurdling, just as the car reached the relative safety of the side of the road. Brain finally engaging, my foot pumped the brake as we hurtled down a steep embankment that had been concealed in the darkness. Behind us, the truck thundered past, barely missing the tail end of the car.
We rolled to a stop, the engine cutting out with a whine and my breathing coming in ragged, panicked gasps. I shot a look at Edward, who was peering at me wearing an expression that I thought almost bordered on concern.
His voice trembling only slightly, he finally asked in a breathy rush, "My turn to drive?"
