I own nothing.
March 17th, 2012
3:25 a.m.
There are two things of which I am absolutely sure of in my state of inebriation: one, this is such a bad idea. Two, and most assuredly, Heidi is a shitty cousin and a terrible friend, because I still don't know who she is, and she hasn't made herself known to me or Bella all night.
Other than that, things are pretty hazy.
"Are you sure about this?" Bella shivers and leans into me for warmth. It's kind of the best thing that's ever happened to me.
We're standing between my screen and front door while I struggle to remember which key goes to my house, my aunt's, my mom's car, my car, and the garage door. I only need one key, but I still carry them all around.
I'm so fucking stupid.
I love how I realize this now, of all times. While I'm plastered, and trying to sneak this beautiful and equally-if-not-just-as intoxicated girl into my room so that we can get even more shitfaced. This is what it took for me to realize what an idiot I am.
Bella sees my struggle, and she busts out laughing at my obvious predicament.
"Shh," I tell her, but I don't really mean it. I'm in love with this girl's laugh. Nobody laughs anymore, and I'm ready to record hers to help me sleep at night. Because I am a creep. "My mom might be home."
I finally find the right key. It turns out that I had it right the first time; I had just put it in upside down.
Because I am a numb-nut like that.
"Oh no, Edward." Bella stops in the doorway, turning pale. "Um ... I really shouldn't be here."
"What?" I look around myself, wondering where the hell that came from. "Are you past curfew or something?"
"Um." She laughs, looking around herself before dropping her gaze to the ground. "Yeah. I mean, obviously. But I can't disrespect your mom by coming into her house without her knowing."
I look at this girl like she's crazy.
Is she serious?
"Shut up." I grab her forearm and pull her through the threshold, kicking the door shut behind me. "My room is the second door on the right."
She stumbles ahead of me, looking around the house that I'm glad is too dark for her to see. It's probably a mess. There's probably a sink full of dishes and the coffee table is probably covered with unpaid bills. Emmett probably got fast food and made a mess that Rose or I will have to clean up in the morning, if either of us even wakes up before noon. Assuming Rose isn't in huge fucking trouble, like Emmett always gets her in.
I follow Bella to my bedroom in slow, careful steps. I'm not afraid to get caught, but I am afraid to trip.
I'm too drunk. My vision is a little hazy, my shoulders feel a little heavy, and my head kind of hurts. I'm not thinking straight, and I know this. But I don't want to let this girl go home yet.
I shut the door to my room, and slip my shoes off while Brightside immediately discovers my collection and starts flipping through a bin of CDs that sit on the edge of my bed. "Whoa, these are all so old."
I shrug out of my jacket. "Are you making fun of me?"
"I would never." She holds up a Manchester Orchestra album. "I like this band. Can we listen to it?"
I nod my head to the CD player before I walk over to my chest of drawers to pull out a bag of green and toss it on the bed. I find my lighter while she tries to work the CD player. I crawl up my bed to get my bong from the nightstand and I fill the bowl as I've Got Friends fills the room.
"Is it too loud?" she asks. She turns around and I notice the flannel cotton shirt she has on has one button undone that it didn't before we left Jake Black's party earlier.
I make observations like this, but I can't even pass gym class without getting a C- because I always forget to bring my shoes.
I am a typical teenage boy.
I shake my head. "Turn it up."
She turns it up, and music about knowing the truth about friendship helps calm my nerves as she drops down on the bed beside me.
I take a hit. I lift the bowl and look to her as the smoke hits the back of my throat.
Bella's eyes are low, and she looks like she's a little too drunk to think clearly. The eyeliner under her left eye is a little smeared, but she still looks pretty with the shadows on her face. Her strawberry-red, brown hair is a little frizzy, but it still looks soft and smells like vanilla and lavender. It's not even a cheap vanilla, it's sweeter but not so pungent. Like French Vanilla.
She doesn't need to get high, but that's why we came here. At least, that's why she wants to be here. I just don't want to say goodbye yet.
I pass the bong to her, and she has to tuck her hair behind her ears before she places her lips over the mouthpiece. I light the bowl for her, and wait until she fills the chamber before lifting the metal from the glass piece.
She blows smoke between her lips slowly and soundless, and I find myself licking my own as I watch her.
"How old are you?" I mentally palm my face once I realize what I've said.
She looks up at me, smirking. "Um ... Sixteen. Why? You going to tell me that you're really thirty?"
I clear my throat, averting my gaze to stare down at my red and black plaid ruffled sheets. "No, I'm sixteen. I was just curious."
She looks around the room again and lays back to rest on her elbows, biting her lip as she scans her eyes over the shelf above our heads. "Do you like baseball?"
I shake my head, leaning back on my elbows to rest beside her. "My dad played. I like to watch sometimes, but I can't play."
She tilts her head back. "Can't?"
I nod, not really in the mood to elaborate. Everything is a little hazy, and I keep looking at her lips and her cheeks and forgetting what I mean to talk about.
I notice a lot about Bella that I didn't before.
She has three freckles in a row speckled along her left cheek that I didn't see before but can't stop looking at now in the cheap yellow-lamp lighting in my room.
Not only is she the first girl I've ever invited in my room, but she's also the first girl to sit on my bed and it's all I keep thinking about.
I'm not an amateur.
I've kissed girls, and then I've done things―other things with them. Sex and girls don't make me nervous. She does.
I don't want to use Bella.
I mean, I do. But I don't want to give her back.
I want to kiss Bella. I want to do so much to her. But tonight isn't nearly enough, and I'm afraid that if I get to kiss her now I might not get to do it again.
Maybe it's because I'm an idiot, or maybe it's because I'm drunk. Maybe it's because I'm high and I'm typical teenage-boy-minded. Maybe it's because Brightside's lips are too close to think, but it seems worth risking when I catch her looking at my lips too.
I close my eyes and whisper, "Fuck it."
