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MIDNIGHT SUN 2.0
~ CHAPTER FIFTEEN ~
PERSPECTIVE
The cracks running through the ceiling in the far corner of the cafeteria had grown since the last time I had seen them.
Forming patterns where before there had been none; the radiating lines teemed with the inevitable mildew and mould from the constant damp as they spread outward in a spider-web effect, attempting to escape rebelliously through the aging plaster.
Weeks ago, I had sought out these patterns as a way of distracting myself from the inescapability of my own existence…a way of distancing myself from the uninvited intrusion of the world around me, but now that the patterns had been found, they could no longer capture my attention away from the certain knowledge that no matter the sacrifices I made or the compromises I gave in to, I could never win against what I could never change…myself.
Attempting to outrun the inevitability of an existence that had been nothing more than a fabrication of the truth from the start was impossible; I had been a fool to think that I could…I had been a fool to think that Bella would see anything other than the truth of what I really was.
Her sense of preservation might have been warped by the farce that I had spun around her, but her innate sense of truth could never be so easily misled…she knew what I was, better than I knew it myself – she could see past the smokescreen of my waning humanity to what really lay beneath…
For all of the sins that I had committed in the past and would undoubtedly commit in the future…for all the sins that I could never hope to atone for at any stage of my existence, Bella was my heaviest cross to bear; a burden that was worth any battle I would have to wage in order to gain my greatest prize, but a burden that was also my harshest punishment…a punishment not because of what she represented, but because of what I represented.
What better penance was there than through a constant reminder that I was not worthy of her attention…her affection, that I was nothing more than her worst expectations and little better than my own, that even through my every action now; both noble and self-serving, I was no closer to redemption than I was further from ruin and that with every moment that she trusted me with a faith that should not have been so freely given, was one moment closer to an end that I could not bear…the moment in which I would fail her.
It felt as though I had already failed her…the undeniable proof of her parting words had evidenced that with damning conviction – she did not trust me…not fully.
This confession should have pleased me – wasn't it what I had wanted from the beginning; Bella's awareness of my reality and her reticence of my company…shouldn't I be glad that she still kept a small part of herself separated and distanced from me as a way of protecting herself?
Yes, this should have made me happy…but it didn't.
I couldn't afford for there to be anything else between us when there was already such an insurmountable gulf that widened with every second I spent in her company…I wanted her trust, despite wanting her safety more, but at what cost?
What would it cost me…what would it cost her, to give it over freely and irrevocably?
I was almost too afraid to find out what that answer would be; knowing that if it was favourable, I would feel unjustifiably angry and if it was not, it would destroy what was left of my already shaky resolve.
I knew that I shouldn't have allowed Alice or Emmett to keep me here…I should have listened to whatever reason and common sense I still retained instead of their own interpretations of what Bella had said, but I had – against my better judgment – allowed them to talk me out of my pessimism as they downplayed her words, explaining that to their ears, Bella's revelation was nothing more than a plea for understanding, not a cry for help.
The weakness and misery created within me as a result of the realization that I was the indecision I could never conquer coupled with the certainty that leaving Bella now would not resolve that but only further its cause, had convinced me in that moment that they were right; my cowardice had persuaded me to listen to them because their own perspectives were not as biased or warped as my own and that Bella's willingness to remain by my side was all the courage I would need, but they were wrong…all of them.
My reasoning has been deeply flawed before; driven by the agony that would surely come, but now it was blindingly clear – perspective, it seemed, was only gained at a distance.
The outcome of the conversation that would take place over the next hour would either stay my hand, or push me to my feet…I could no longer allow the influence of others – for whatever reasoning they might have – to justify what I knew to be the difference between what was right or wrong.
Somewhere in the deepest recesses of my conscious I knew that I was still allowing my fear to dominate my actions, but if the only result of that was never having to see fear on Bella's face, then I would gladly accept that charge.
Always running away from what I wanted the most…and what I deserved the least.
Closing my eyes to the reality of a problem that seemed to have no good end in sight, I slumped further into my seat as the lunchroom continued to swarm with the noisy exuberance of student's suffering from a hunger that could be so easily satisfied; crossing my legs at the ankles and curling my fingers into fists within the confines of my jacket, careful to moderate my touch as I heard the faint creaking of the bottle-top from within my iron-grip.
My dependency on this nondescript speck of plastic over the last hour had expanded to an obsession that closely rivaled the fascination I had with its original owner…an hour that I would sooner forget.
Gym had been an exercise in futility on my part and more of a chore than I would have ever thought it to be; Emmett had practically coached me through every programmed motion and repetitive cue…actions that before had been so unthinking, had now become so arduously straining I felt as limp and lethargic as the humans around me.
Emmett – once his concern for my emotional stability had been reassured through the return of my frustrated temper – had found it endlessly amusing that I had been incapable of completing a task that I had once held so beneath me.
His badly concealed humour and not so subtle mockery throughout the hour – aided poorly by Alice and her running commentary in my head over my own issues of trust – had not helped to improve my foul mood…if anything, it had only further fueled my sense of self-disgust…which was the reasoning behind why I was now sitting in the cafeteria waiting for Bella instead of outside her classroom as was my custom – I would not risk exposing Bella to my temper.
Stalking grimly out of the change rooms and through the gymnasium as the previous hour drew to a close, I had been grimly conscious of my siblings following closely behind, reminding me of a time not long ago when they had been uncertain of my actions; I had wanted to mock them for their over-reactions, but I could not honestly say that they were wrong.
Alice was still untrusting of my decisions – despite no clear intent being present in my future – and would not take any chances with my unpredictability, only beginning to relax as Jasper had joined us en route to the lunch room; relying on his ability combined with her own to give her an early warning as to my choice.
Listening to Jasper as he infiltrated and correctly interpreted the carousel of emotions that I had no hope in hiding from him – even if I had tried to lie to myself that he was wrong – had thrown into stark existence that which I would rather not discuss. He would not press what he had learnt; knowing already that I was on the edge, but it was still uncomfortable having to listen to them.
I had needed time alone – as alone as I could ever be – to untangle the miasma of my existence before Bella arrived.
Sighing impatiently at the restlessness I now felt but could do nothing about, my nose twitched beneath my shuttered lids as the unmistakable scent of my own kind wove through the warm air particles smothered with the fragrance of warm, human blood…the smell was not unwelcome, but the interruption was.
Not moving as the delicate scrapping of the chair opposite me rent through the air, I did not lower my lids, nor did I change the angle of my head from its tilted position to inspect the newcomer…it was not Bella – my being had not surged to life with excitement at her presence; her class had been detained for an additional five minutes by a patriotically resentful Jefferson who was peeved that none of his students could recall the full list of the Amendments to the American Constitution…this, was Alice.
See anything interesting up there?
For the sake of maintaining our façade and appearing normal – and only for that sake – I lifted back the lids of my eyes partially, scowling at my sister through slatted lids as her seemingly innocent comment curled my lip, feeling less than generous to her at the moment as she stood with her fingers wrapped loosely over the top of the plastic chair opposite me; Emmett's assistance had initially been out of genuine concern for me so I had overlooked his meddling – Alice's motives were not that pure.
"You've picked apart my brain enough for one day, Alice…you can't meet her yet – go away."
The frontage of calm and serenity slipped a notch as Alice heard the uncompromising inflexibility in my soft voice…now was not the right time for this and she knew it.
Trying a different angle, Alice cajoled instead of demanded, "You know that I can help – I want this to succeed as much as you do, Edward. Remember that it's been me that for the last hour has done everything I can to persuade you to stay…Emmett wants you around for himself…I want you around for both you and Bella, so why don't you just humour me for once and let me stay. I promise that I'll stop pestering you if you do."
The almost explosive laughter from behind me made a lie of her words even as my brows arched upward in disbelief.
Both Emmett and Jasper – already seated at the back of the room with their sparsely laden trays – knew that as soon as I introduced Alice to Bella, the harassment would not stop…it would only intensify.
Don't believe her, Edward…it's Bella she really wants; you're just part of the package deal.
Emmett's mirthful comment was accurately worded…and not something that I did not already know.
What was surprising was Jasper's silence on the matter…he knew exactly the words to either comfort my doubts or crumble my determination, yet he said nothing. Even after he had joined us, it had become apparent that he was keeping his opinion to himself as he dissected my mood…why, I did not know as his mind was now deliberately preoccupied with everything Alice.
Brushing it aside, I listened to him with half an ear as I turned my attention back to the nuisance before me.
"Alice," I implored patiently, not wanting to hurt her feelings further, but needing her to understand that despite my remaining here, I was no more committed than I had been an hour ago; I couldn't be, not without talking to Bella about this first…the last thing I needed to worry about was Alice inadvertently revealing information that Bella could not deal with and would somehow jeopardize the already fragile connection between us. "Please understand that I'm not doing this out of spite. When the time is right, I will know, but it's not now. Please don't push me on this anymore. Be patient."
Pulling the chair out quickly and ignoring my beseeching, Alice sat daintily down with her arms crossed beneath her over the table.
"Why?" she rushed, her words coming too quickly now; too quickly for the humans around us to understand. "Why is it so wrong for me to know her now instead of later, Edward? If you are still undecided – and judging by the fact that once again, nothing in your future makes any sense, I'd say you are – then why must I wait to meet her when you could just as easily ends things now if this conversation doesn't go the way you want it to and I'll never have my chance? Having a little bit of something for a short time is better than having nothing at all for eternity. You're scared right now…that's why you don't want me to meet her and I understand that, but shouldn't you at least consider that I would be a help, not a hindrance?"
The fervor of her words shocked me, though I kept the surprise off my face by dint of sheer will as I waded through the uncertainty clouding her mind; there was nothing there that was conclusive…nothing but wisps of ambiguity and wasted half chances.
She was talking as though I would leave Bella, when I had yet to decide that myself.
Breaking my idle posture, I leant forward over the table, uncaring that my bearing was suddenly all too penetrating as I watched her face with agitated eyes whilst my mind sought out her visions.
"I thought you said that you can't see what's in my future because I was still two-minded, Alice?"
Rapidly, as if a thickly obscuring curtain had descended across the uncertain stage of my future, the sight of Alice's mind became blank and dark.
Getting up from her seat as her own sight failed her and she realized that I would not allow what she asked for, Alice scowled at me as she answered quietly with an inflection that was almost foreboding. "I can't…that's what worries me."
Moving away to rejoin the others before I could reply to her words, Alice lightly squeezed my shoulder as she passed, silently imparting the words that worried me more than anything else I had dealt with so far.
Be careful, Edward…don't let your fear and doubt rob you of what you want the most
Compelled by the unexplainable terror that her words had inspired, I felt an almost searing desperation as her foresight remained unexplainably blank; frantic now to have Bella within my grasp again.
Giving up the pretense of patience, I leapt through the minds of the students in Jefferson's small classroom; searching for Bella through a conscious that I could both tolerate at the moment and would be a good viewpoint.
Angela was usually the best option if she was available – from both an observational and confidentiality standpoint; Bella was never as careful around her as she was with her other classmate's and usually let slip more than she was willing to reveal…but at the moment, even Angela was wondering how to interpret Bella's behaviour as she watched her collecting her books and shoving them agitatedly into her bag, alternatively looked out the open doorway and then back down at her fumbling hands.
What's up with Bella? She's so hyper…all restless and agitated. I don't think she heard a word that Jefferson said during the entire lesson…I hope she's only distracted because she wants to see Edward again and not because they had a fight. She looked kind of on edge when she came in…I just hope that it's nothing serious. I really want to see where this is headed…
For ruin, more than likely, I thought bitterly as Angela's thoughts petered out and she followed Bella out the classroom.
Cursing myself for being a fool easily so easily distracted by my own wallowing that I had lost focus on Bella during the hour we had been apart, I quickly swung through the minds of the others leaving the classroom, hoping that one of them would have noticed Bella's preoccupation and the reason behind it, but none of them seemed focused enough; all their energies turned to the thought of reaching the lunch-room.
Switching back to Angela as the group left in a swell of adolescent excitement hurrying down the corridor, I vainly hoped that she would ask more informative questions before Bella arrived, but she was momentarily sidetracked by the look of blazing intensity masking Bella's lovely features as she first looked around the empty doorway for my absent presence then almost marched towards the cafeteria; Angela – who had longer legs and by virtue of that, a longer stride – had to practically run to keep up with her as Bella skirted around a slower student in front of her with strange accuracy and precision…for her.
Still confused by her mysterious behaviour, Angela stayed close on Bella's heels, not wanting to admit it to herself, as she disliked gossip as much as Bella did, but she was looking forward to whatever might happen when Bella reached me.
This has to do with, Edward…he wasn't waiting for her like he normally is and she looks like she's about to start running to the cafeteria. I wish I had asked her what was wrong, but she just seemed so on edge that it didn't seem right to ask a question that she wouldn't want to answer.
A flurry of images passed through the Weber girl's consciousness as she remembered the half-dozen times she had started to turn to her desk mate, but had instead been swayed by indecision and had held her tongue.
Wishing too late that she had, I made a decision in that moment that I knew I might not have a hope at keeping…no matter how we parted in the future, no matter the words that were spoken to weaken my determination to stay or strengthen my intent to leave; if Bella remained within my grasp, I would never again allow her the freedom to escape my mind.
Too many things could be said or done that I would have no way of ever knowing…and not knowing, was almost as bad as knowing.
Breathing evenly and deeply, attempting – however pointlessly – to regulate the rush of air to my lungs in an effort to calm myself as I waited for mortal speed to bring me the one I wanted above all others, I instantly grimaced in disgust as the greater influx of air brought with it a bombardment of unpleasant aromas created by the marinated pasta and fried chicken dishes that sat before me.
The reminder that I had food waiting for Bella added a small measure of perspective and no small amount of self-mockery as I recalled the indecision that had plagued me as I argued with myself over what Bella might want to eat; standing over the assortment of food, frowning down at what was an easy decision for most…but not for me.
Italian cuisine I knew was a preference; the ravioli and pizza stood testament to that, so I had chosen dishes that held an element of that in each, splitting the choice between a basic vegetarian meal and that of a protein based dish.
She might not like either, Edward…the thought had worried me needlessly as it attached itself venomously to every other misgiving in my head, making me feel as though I had made no real progress and was still feeling blindly around the edges on the off chance.
Why…if you're not going to be here, what's the point in even bothering?
The voice that crept in despite my attempts to hold it at bay, echoed the fears voiced by Alice earlier…and only further made a mockery of everything I now hoped for.
Shifting in my seat irritably as I ran my thumb over the ridged sides of the cap, I watched as Bella, with Angela still close at hand, strode through the swinging doors of the cafeteria with purpose etched into every line of her slender body.
Her bright, all-seeing eyes immediately searched for me through the masses as threads of relief weaved their way through the brown depths of them as she found me sitting here; creating an heated frisson deep within the frozen, barren core of me that somehow made me feel lighter and warmer all at the same time…less burdened by all that could go wrong, intent to just let me enjoy what was, for the moment, everything that was right in my life…even if it meant it was wrong.
As the girls split with nothing more than a half-smile dominated by preoccupation from Bella and a weak attempt of a wave-off thrown in Angela's direction, I schooled my features into a mask of passivity as Bella began the short walk that would once again have her within my reach…I could feel the palpable sensation of the vital pounding of her heart reach out through space and time to my own – calling to the lifeless organ that responded only to her.
The now almost secondary response of my predatory nature reacting to that same beat was pushed aside with the barest of effort, only the lingering aftereffects of the lure was slow to drain from my system as my muscles coiled and saliva swamped my mouth.
It seemed like another life time ago that those instinctive reactions had been my greatest fear…now they almost seemed welcome in comparison.
Swallowing easily against the second and deliberately relaxing the first, I watched from my peripheral vision as Angela moved to gather what was left of the food; mentally ordering herself to look away from where I sat.
Well, that's a good sign…he's waiting for her. I know she must have been worried when he wasn't there to collect her from outside of government. Now where is Ben…?
Leaving Angela alone to her own thoughts and the quest for what so many yearned for at her age, my eyes roved hungrily over every inch of Bella as she closed in on me, checking anxiously for any changes or injuries that only she seemed capable of finding in as pedestrian an environment as a classroom and in such as short a time as an hour…I would never have thought that hidden dangers lay within the mundane setting of a room filled with children, textbooks and pencils, yet now as I viewed them, each one seemed to hold a possible threat to Bella's safety.
Sighing at my own irrational paranoia, especially as I was the greatest threat ever to be posed to Bella, I carried on with my inspection, internally berating myself.
Honestly, Edward…they're just pencils.
When I was satisfied that I could find no significant alterations to her being; physical or otherwise, I switched focus and instead began to commit every other change in her appearance to my indelible memory.
The sleeves of the turtleneck had been pushed up over her forearms during the course of her last class – out of frustration or temperature increase, I did not know; revealing more perfectly textured skin that seemed slightly darker than the normal pearlescent under the dull lighting of the dirtied overhead lights and the muted natural light. Her hair had been gathered into a loose ponytail hanging over her left shoulder; the slightly curling ends of hair snaked faithfully around the swell of her breasts hidden beneath the thick jersey as it fell almost to her waist in a fall of dark mahogany silk.
The framing of her slender, subtle curves by such an innocuous fall of hair made the muscles of my stomach and lower abdomen clench and ache in ways that were still unfamiliar and completely disarming…for reasons that had nothing to do with the mere sight of her and everything to do with a hunger that I would have to fight more zealously against than that of the one that had almost driven me to be her death…it made me wish that she had left her hair to fall loose and straight down the slender length of her back.
Attraction had been the word I had labeled this feeling with originally, but attraction was far too tame a word to describe what I was feeling now…sexual desire inundated my conscious, swamping it with a charged sense of awareness and excitement that I had never before felt as it tingled and sizzled through my body, bringing to life everything that had once been stagnant and still – my reactions were completely disarming and more than a little disturbing, but they could not prevent me from fantasizing.
What would it feel like to peel away the layers of clothing that kept her concealed from me during the daylight hours so that I could simply trace my fingers over the patterning of fragile bones that held me so enthralled?
What would it feel like to touch her in a manner that had nothing to do with polite assistance and everything to do with the simple pleasure of feeling the velvety warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips?
What would it feel like to simply hold her?
My yearnings and wants were simple and in a world as modern as this, achievable in ways that would not have been in the era in which I had been born, yet the possibility of fulfilling those desires was not possible for Bella and I…the thought was both sobering and saddening.
Apprehension worked at Bella's features as the relief that had been foremost was now replaced by anxiety as she stopped just beyond the edge of the table; her fingers reaching up nervously to twirl and twine in the hair that lay over her shoulder as she dropped her bag beside the chair with a heavy thunk.
Keeping my face impassive despite my inner turmoil, I reached over and pulled out the chair at the other end of the table, indicating with a gesture of my hand for her to sit. It was still a point of irritation that I could not simply stand beside her, pull her chair away from the table and seat her myself, but as I was already seen as an oddity, drawing more attention to myself was not a wise choice.
Nodding solemnly, Bella sat down with less grace than she had used in getting here, noisily scrapping the chair backwards a few inches over the scuffed linoleum as she crossed her legs and folded her arms over the table, leaning on them with her shoulders hunched in slight defence as she blushed profusely and heated the already sultry air around us; her eyes open, unguarded and honest.
I took the time in between those seconds to try and read her facial cues…aside from the blush, which seemed as much a part of Bella as her endearing clumsiness; her face was curiously closed off – as if she did not want to give away more than she was willing to by way of her openly expressive face.
The thought was disturbing because I did not know why she wanted to hide…or what she wanted to hide from me.
Perhaps it was regret for her words…perhaps it was regret for mine?
Breaking my forceful stare, Bella lowered her head and then almost instantly frowned as she noted for the first time that there was food waiting for her.
I had told her…
Without a further word – as if sensing that arguing with me over the food would somehow cross a line that neither of us wanted to venture over at the moment – Bella pulled the Carbonara towards her over the scratched tabletop, picked up a plastic fork from the pile that I had provided on the stack of paper napkins to her side and speared a piece of chicken entangled by the sauce-laden spaghetti, completely ignoring the vegetable dish.
Pulling the discarded meal towards myself, I ignored the smell and for the sake of the façade, picked up one of the spare forks, playing with the food as I watched her intently.
Popping the bite into her mouth, Bella chewed thoughtfully on it before digging the pronged utensil back into the mess that smelt indigestible to my nose; twirling the fork around as she wound a ball of the slippery pasta around it and once again resumed eating, all but ignoring me as I watched her avidly.
Edward…a word.
Keeping my eyes on Bella, I adjusted the angle of my head ever so slightly towards the source of the distraction…Jasper had finally found his voice.
If you would permit, I will relay Bella's underlying emotions to you so that you are able to better understand her motives. I know that you feel as though you can't trust yourself because of your inability to hear her innermost thoughts, so maybe I can provide an insight that you've been missing; maybe it will help with your decision. It's your choice of course, and I would not divulge what I had learnt to the others…you've kept the horrid thoughts in my head to yourself far too many times for me to betray you like that. It's only a suggestion of course and one that you are entirely free to reject.
Jasper's offer tempted me…tempted me more than the girl that sat before me, but I felt almost ashamed for having to admit that to myself; his words gave me a renewed sense of hope that I might be able to accurately gauge what Bella felt, rather than what she didn't say…but they also shamed me, as it felt like a violation of her privacy – an invasion that she had not consented to.
I had very little control over the ability hear the thoughts of others and although it might make my life that much easier to hear Bella, it somehow felt wrong to now encroach on what was unauthorized…wrong, but, oh so tempting.
I nodded my head slightly to the side in affirmation before I could change my mind and what remained of my conscious strangled me with its hold of guilt…any advantage at this moment would be a welcome one.
Opening my mind to Jasper, I swept aside all other outside influences – my other siblings, those around us, focusing solely on what his sensitivity could tell me as I turned my attention back to Bella.
She was still busy eating, taking no notice of my preoccupation as her fork dipped once more into the mangled mess of her food, rolling peas to the side with a disdainful flick of her wrist.
I frowned at the peas: abandoned and unwanted.
Perhaps she did not like them? Or perhaps she did and saved them for last? What did I know…I knew nothing about her dietary preferences?
The frustration was almost as infuriating as her mental silence.
Patience, Edward.
Twisting my mouth to the side as I realized that I would have a running commentary in my head that I had allowed, I instead focused on what I would gain from this…not what I would lose.
After taking two more bites…and pushing aside more peas, Bella swallowed, wiped her mouth with her paper napkin and placed her fork down very deliberately, as if telling me without verbal confirmation that she was not taking another bite until the air had been cleared between us and everything was in the open.
I didn't know how I felt about that…but avoiding it could no longer be done.
"We need to talk about what I said earlier."
Nodding only once, I placed my cap safely within the confines of my pocket, rested my elbows on the table and steepled my fingers together, waiting silently for her to begin as I peered at her over the tapering digits, half afraid of what I would stay when I did open my mouth.
It's interesting actually…she's just as nervous as you are. You're afraid of what will happen in the next hour and so is she. Nerves…and regret, presumably about what she said to you before.
Jasper's words made sense…I could clearly see the strain that Bella tried – and failed – to hide, but what was the driving force behind her anxiety? Surely she could not know how her words had affected me?
Playing with the peas that lay undesired, Bella began to squash them with her fork, working them into a green mush as I watched her gather herself in much the same way as I had done.
"I want to explain what I meant by that last comment…obviously you didn't understand what I was telling you – or if you did, you've chosen to misunderstand it."
Oh, but there had been no misunderstanding, I thought grimly. Her inherent honesty had compelled her to divulge what she should have kept to herself...it was both a comforting and upsetting revelation from someone that keep so many emotional cards so close to her chest.
"How do you know that I didn't understand? Is it because you think that my limitations in your case hinder my ability to comprehend what you say…or don't say?"
Shaking her head, she ground up the last stray pea from the sector from which she was eating before looking up and meeting my intense scrutiny.
"No…it was your eyes that gave you away, actually. I have no doubt – despite your limitations in my case – that you are able to understand everything I say…or don't say."
Ignoring the sardonic edge at the end of her reply, I frowned at the first part of her theory, "my eyes?"
Nodding quickly, she reached for the bottle of ice-tea that I had provided, cupping her palm over the fitted metal lid to open it, but my fingers were faster as I snatched it from her grasp and effortlessly twisted off the cap, handing her back the bottle almost immediately.
I had no use for this cap – I would not add it to the one I already treasured – but there may have had a rough edge to it and I did not want her cutting herself…for obvious reasons.
Thankfully Bella did not think much of the gesture, only drinking deeply from the bottle with relish as she nodded her thanks…it pleased me that I had at chosen something that she liked. The knowledge to learn more about her was still as insatiable as it had been before, but now it was tinged with melancholy and desperation.
What would be the point in learning, when I was planning on leaving?
Edward…just listen. Stop setting yourself up for sabotage before you've even heard what Bella has to say.
The loud clink of the glass bottle on the table brought my attention back to Bella and away from Jasper's chiding comment as she licked her lips and held her hand out to me for the cap to be replaced.
Doing it for her, I moved the bottle to the side and arched my brows, waiting for her to continue.
"Your eyes changed when I spoke to you…like they darkened and hardened all at the same time – I noticed it once before, when I had said something to you that you didn't like, so I knew that I had hit a nerve."
Lowering my brows to crowd my eyes…and hide them a little from her keen eyes, I thought back to the words that I would have found intolerable to listen too…there had been so many; I did not know to which one she was now referring.
Seeing my confusion, Bella's lips twitched briefly with remembered annoyance before she clarified, "In the hospital – after I had demanded that you tell me everything and you wouldn't…I asked you when I was angry why you had even bothered to save me at all, and for a moment, there was this unguarded look in your eyes that held a vulnerability that I would never have associated with you before. Your eyes did the same thing then, before you closed up and told me that you didn't know why you had saved me. It wasn't something that you wanted to hear."
Feeling uncomfortably exposed that she had read me so clearly and concisely, especially in light of what had been my sole objective to ridicule and criticize cruelly; I neither confirmed nor denied her claims.
Feeling vulnerable, are you…must be a new experience?
Bella continued on when I remained silent and ignored Jasper, still reeling from what was so glaringly a vulnerability that I had never realised I possessed…or perhaps it had always been there – Bella was the first human I had ever allowed close enough to see it.
"So, that's how I knew that what I said upset you." Leaning in again, she lowered her own voice further as I kept my position, distancing myself from her and the compelling brown eyes that smoldered with honesty and fervency.
"When I said that I was intimidated, I wasn't referring to you…I wouldn't be sitting across from you right now, or planning on sitting next to you in your car when we left here, if I was...I thought that had all been cleared up two nights ago? I was only trying to explain that I don't fully understand the situation and what it is exactly that you're going through – I can't identify with any of it and that is what makes me feel vulnerable. Edward, please don't ever think that I could fear you – not after everything that you've already done for me…you know that I trust you…unequivocally – I've proved that to you already."
Her passionate words of belief and trust should have consoled me; Alice and Emmett had been right…but there was no comfort in the knowledge that we were once again having a conversation that was an almost duplicate copy of the one in my car two nights ago – she had not listened to my warnings then, and she would in all likelihood ignore them now.
Anger – fast to light, and even faster to burn – scored through the dried marrow in my bones and ravaged the sinews that controlled my muscles; contorting violently as I tried to control myself.
Jasper interjected quickly as he gauged my fury, she means that sincerely…Bella isn't afraid of you, Edward. She is merely attempting to empathize with you.
If anything, Jasper's words did not comfort me…they only further incensed me – I did not want her empathy, I wanted her awareness.
"Well, now that you've illuminated that point, perhaps I can ask you a question?"
The icy harshness of my voice was not lost on Bella as she pulled back from the rancor in my voice.
"You're eyes are doing it again," she interrupted, sensing perhaps that I was even less happy with this remark than I was with the first.
I had no doubt that my eyes were accurately conveying my displeasure with her…
Unwinding the stiffness from my locked muscles, I leant closer to her again, not bothering to hide the disapproval from my face. "How is it, if you're unfamiliar with a situation such as this, that you can honestly say that you trust me? On some deeper level of your subconscious…the subconscious that you are suppressing when you're meant to be allowing its freedom, you know that you can't…and that is what intimidates you, Bella…I am what intimidates you. Your trust in me is based on what you feel, not what you know. You're too young to understand that there is a difference there and I'm not. You shouldn't have to learn that the hard way."
Restraining the shudder within that my own words created, I watched as her irises dilated momentarily.
Nodding, she chewed on her bottom lip. "You're right, I am too young to know exactly what I'm talking about, but if I'm inexperienced and yet still willing to try, then shouldn't you at least respect that and let me prove that my trust in you is justified? I'm not saying that I'm not scared, Edward, but I am saying that my fear isn't strong enough to keep me from you…and I think it's the same for you."
Mesmerized by the fervency of Bella's words, I could say nothing to the contrary; realizing too late that Alice had been correct in one other aspect…Bella's feelings for me could no longer be denied, or restrained, but at what cost would her trust be vindicated? What price would I have to pay for that knowledge?
She wasn't going to listen to me, that much was clear…she would continue on the path that I had set for us, blindly following my lead as I steered us in the direction of disaster.
"Why won't you listen to your fear?" I uttered limply, feeling defeat crash over me as I realised that nothing short of disappearing would end this.
"Because fear is no reason to give up what you want the most…it's a reason to reach out and take it. Which one are you going to do?"
Thoughts jumbled together in my head at her words, but I could force none of them onto my tongue in a reply to so simple a statement in its truth it left me shaken.
Fear was not a reason for running…fear was a reason for staying.
She's right, Edward…Emmett and I told you that. You think that you're in a difficult position because of how she appeals to you and that she's given you her trust too freely, but you've given no consideration to the spot she's in. She's a human who is willing to spend time with a vampire…a vampire that she knows first-hand had plans to kill her at one time. Give Bella some credit; she's smart and probably overthinks everything like you do, but if she's willing to be with you, shouldn't you be brave enough to do the same? If you allow doubt to cloud your judgment and you leave, then all of this will have been for nothing…and all you'll ever have of Bella is a possibility of what could have been and the memory of might have been.
Casting my eyes quickly to the side, I caught just a fleeting glimpse of Alice as she sat between my brothers; her words still echoing around in my head…I had never seen her so wound-up; the tenor of her voice had conveyed that, but her posture was strung so tightly she almost vibrated between Emmett – who watched me as keenly as Alice did, but not with the same fervency; he couldn't see what Alice could – and Jasper who was attuned to both the turmoil within me and tumult within her; amplified by two who were connected by abilities that were beyond him, yet through his connection to Alice, could still understand it.
She does have a point, Edward. Despite the differences between you and Bella, at the moment, you're both exuding the same tangle of emotions – hope mixed with fear…which one are you going to allow to win?
Should I believe her…should I trust in them?
"Edward?"
Bella's soft prompt brought my eyes back to hers; she still looked at me, expecting an answer to a question that was too dangerous to answer…and one that I could not afford to honestly give her, as I myself, did not know which one I would choose…which one would hurt her the least and which one would hurt me the most?
Always Bella…always Bella.
"Whichever one is the best for you, Bella."
Shaking her head at the weak platitude that I had offered to pacify her curiosity, Bella frowned in true disgruntlement at my evasive tactics even as I heard the audible sigh from my sister behind us.
"That sounds like an evasion – like you're not agreeing with me, but not disagreeing either…it's confusing, because it also sounds like a threat."
Smiling grimly down at her though I felt no humour at this horrid situation, I felt like answering her…it is a threat, Bella.
I searched past myself as Bella lowered her head to continue eating – either as an escape from the truth on my face or my scrutiny – as I tried to pull apart the thick curtaining that Alice had employed to keep me in the dark, hoping to find the reason to stay…the reason to convince myself that there was not just death and sorrow that lay behind it.
It wasn't there of course; I couldn't find my future, when my present was lost in my past…but I wanted a future, and I was prepared to fight with my past for it; the thought gave me no real satisfaction as I continued to watch Bella eat with a false enthusiasm.
Grinding one of the last surviving peas into unrecognizable goo, Bella looked up at me with clear eyes that seemed to tell me wordlessly that everything would all right.
She could not know that of course…and neither could I.
Shaking lose my pessimism, I resigned myself to what I knew I could not win at the moment, and instead concentrated on the time I had and the questions I wanted answered, deliberately blocking out the thoughts of my family, ruthlessly dismissing any further distractions…questions that should not have mattered in the context of the situation, but ones that I still wanted the answers to.
"Are you mushing up those peas because you don't like them or because you'll only eat them in that form?"
Curiosity made the sincerity of my question plausible as Bella raised an eyebrow, obviously relieved that I was not going to continue on with the previous course of our conversation…it was the exact opposite of her reaction to my interrogation yesterday.
"I don't like them…in any form. Renée has tried to get me to eat them since I was a child in every way that she could think of, but I've proven highly resistant to every trick up her sleeve. They are my least favorite food and the one I object to the most strongly."
Grinning, she almost gleefully obliterated the one pea that might have had a chance hiding beneath a crispy piece of chicken skin, but the ruthless Isabella had found it anyway.
"Why do you object to them…what do they taste like?"
I could only imagine that during the childhood that I could not remember or the adolescence that now seemed to belong to someone else, I would have eaten the small, spherical legume, but the taste of them on my tongue had long since faded.
Tilting her head to one side, Bella twisted her mouth as she tried to phrase an answer to my question, nibbling on her bottom lip as she did it.
"Like a mixture of grass and wet cardboard I would imagine…I can't really describe to you what it is exactly that I dislike about them, I just know the taste of them makes me nauseous."
Nodding, I kept my expression smooth even though I was brutally disappointed in myself for choosing a dish that held an element that she did not favour…Bella as a learning curve was proving steeper than I had ever expected.
"Is there anything else that you dislike?"
This time her answer was almost immediate as Bella shook her head.
"No – Renée has always been what you would call an imaginative cook; I learnt to eat whatever she put on my plate as a child, or I went hungry, which means that I can stomach almost anything and cook almost everything. Also, financial restraints meant that I couldn't be too picky about food…I appreciate it more than most because it was a necessity that I never went without – no matter the condition of it."
Looking down again, Bella's cheeks once again flushed with an embarrassment that I understood, though I was no happier for it than I was when I did not understand; Bella in poverty was not a pleasant notion.
"Has money always been an issue?"
The gentle concern of my voice must have convinced Bella to look at me as she answered my question.
"Yes…and no. Some times were worse than others; Charlie paid alimony of course, but he's a public servant in a small town and his salary barely covers his own expenses. The worst times were when Renée would conjure up some hare-brained scheme that would cost us more money than we had…they weren't often, but they definitely put a strain on monthly living."
Frowning, I felt a strange rush of anger towards a woman that I had never met – the woman that had given birth to the remarkable creature that sat so serenely across the table from me – for her irresponsibility. She was a mother; surely she should have been more conscious of how her actions would affect not only her, but her child?
Bella frowned back at my own expression of disapproval; her features pinching in annoyance.
"Don't look like that…don't judge; you know nothing about my mother, Edward, despite what I have told you."
Losing the expression immediately, my brows arched in surprise at the violence in Bella's voice, though I should not have…the love and loyalty she held for her mother had been self-evident when speaking about her before.
Continuing on as if she had no idea as to my internal dissection, Bella tossed aside her fork and folding her arms over her chest, sat back in her seat with more belligerence than I had ever seen from her.
"Renée was too young when she married Charlie and way to young when she had me…she was a single mother with a baby of less than a year old when she moved away from Forks – by herself. Yes, she's ditzy, but she's my mother, I love her and she's done the best that she could have with the cards that she was dealt, Edward. I have nothing to complain about, so I don't expect anyone else to either."
Feeling rebuked – and for good reason – I bowed my head slightly, apologizing immediately.
"You're right…I'm sorry, Bella. I should not have assumed anything on Renée's part – forgive me, please?"
Sitting forward again, Bella shook her head; repentant herself it seemed for her retort as I was easily forgiven.
"It's all right, Edward – I'm sorry I reacted so quickly, but Renée is more a child than I am – and it makes me very protective of her."
And even if she wasn't, you would still be over-protective of her…
Bella's nature – her entire persona – was geared towards nurturing…protecting…loving.
"When you love…it's with everything in you, isn't it?"
Nodding, she smiled slightly, playing with her food once again, but would not meet my eyes.
"Yes…isn't it the same for you?"
It had been before – and it was never truer than in this moment. I know knew the real reason for her belief in me…for her insistence on staying – and it had nothing to do with trust.
Unable to process how I felt about this when I still wanted her to run away from me, I pushed on with the questioning, leaving the inquiry hanging very obviously in the air.
"Any allergies…illnesses?"
Blinking against the rapid shift in my questioning, Bella shook herself slightly as she began eating again.
"No – to both allergies and illnesses. I have no family history – on either side – that indicates that I have anything to worry about. You already know about the fact that I am almost crippled by chronic clumsiness and suffer from mild bouts of vertigo, but aside from that, there's nothing major."
Sitting back in my seat again, I nodded thoughtfully; smiling only slightly, but on the inside, I felt an almost weakening sense of respite…on top of everything else I had to worry about, at least I would not have to add ill-health to the list. Thinking back to when Carlisle had been inspecting her x-rays after the accident, his amusement at the healed breaks and fractures in her bones had not given me the same source of mirth…but at least I know knew that they were the worst of what could be expected.
"All right – so no food that you object to, other than peas…no allergies or ailments…do you have a sweet tooth?"
I kept my expression pleasant as I winced internally…I really shouldn't be talking about teeth right now.
Bella's nose scrunched up as she ate another forkful of her meal, occasionally varying it with a morsel from the mangled lasagna that sat untouched in front of me. It pleased me immeasurably that she was comfortably eating as much as she was today…yesterday's lunch had been disastrous.
It would not look odd to those who watched us so intently if I did not eat; everyone present could see my absorption in Bella and would assume I was too involved to bother, though the act would have to commence tomorrow to circumvent any speculation…I still had a role to execute.
"Only for pop-tarts; they're my crutch. I really can't process too much sugar or caffeine for that matter – my system just can't handle it. The cola that I drank two nights ago is the most I've touched in years and the only reason that I drank it was because of your insistence and because I realised I was thirsty."
Shrugging, Bella looked down again just as the corners of my mouth pulled down sourly.
Yes…running always increased thirst.
"Water?"
She chuckled throatily at my question, "water is reserved for drinking when I brush my teeth and forget to close my mouth in the shower. I used to try and drink my body weight in Arizona because of the heat and to avoid dehydration, but we're surrounded by so much of it here that it makes me slightly ill to even attempt drinking it. I prefer ice tea, lemonade or tea."
I grinned to myself as I surveyed the two out of three that I had correctly guessed.
"Movies?"
Frowning, Bella chewed on the end of her plastic fork. "Movies I like or movies I dislike?"
"Both."
It couldn't hurt to find out what she wouldn't like to watch…
"Okay…movies I like…"
Tapping her forefinger in the shallow groove of her chin, Bella's lips pursed as she thought and then answered in a remarkably short time…she obviously knew the distinction between something watchable or not.
"Classics – obviously. You can't go wrong with Ingrid Bergman, Spencer Tracy, Katherine Hepburn, Clark Gable, Audrey Hepburn, Humphrey Bogart, Cary Grant or Vivian Leigh…so, they would have to be Gone With The Wind and Casablanca…because no list could be complete without those two. It's A Wonderful Life, The Shawshank Redemption, Schindler's List, The Green Mile, Kramer vs. Kramer, To Kill A Mockingbird with Gregory Peck, 12 Angry Men – Henry Fonda was amazing in that role – One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest, Taxi Driver, Forrest Gump, Notorious, The African Queen, Citizen Kane, Some Like It Hot, West Side Story, Who's Afraid Of Virginia Woolf, The Philadelphia Story, The Big Lebowski, Lawrence Of Arabia, City lights, Romeo and Juliet – any version – The Maltese Falcone, Annie Hall, North By Northwest, Gandhi, The Grapes Of Wrath, Wuthering Heights – the Laurence Olivier version, His Girl Friday, The Little Tramp, Singin' In The Rain, The Gold Rush, Meet Me In St. Louis, An American In Paris, A Star is Born, The Wizard Of Oz, Philadelphia, Legends of the Fall, Gladiator, Greed, A Time To Kill…the list could go on forever."
Almost seeming to run out air and acting more self-conscious than before, Bella paused to take a breath as I processed what she considered noteworthy.
They were all actually very good choices; having seen each of them, I could imagine the elements that she would have enjoyed and remembered, though I was curious as to why she had left out a certain genre.
"Those are all fairly dramatic or musical by comparison, Bella...are there no horror movies that make the list?"
Pulling a face, Bella shook her head, "No – not really. Most are so farfetched that they're completely unwatchable."
Staring out past my face and behind me, Bella caught her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it as she seemingly tried to remember if she had seen anything worth remembering.
I tried not to stare of those lips…but failed miserably.
"I have watched one or two that have stuck with me – Silence Of The Lambs, Vertigo or Psycho…mostly Alfred Hitchcock's but I suppose you can't really call them horrors, they were more suspense, although I have to admit I once watched Jack Nicholson's The Shinning and it really freaked me out. I'm not really a lover of the horror genre…"
And yet, here she sat, virtually ensconced in the presence of a horror that was more realistically terrifying than any movie or book…I kept my expression benign in the hopes that she would not see the hidden horror sitting across the table for her, but attempting to avoid her avaricious eyes was a good idea.
"Your eyes are doing it again," she admonished, the little furrow back between her brows as she confirmed my thoughts.
Moving onto the next topic before my unguarded gaze could give anything else away, I asked quickly, "Movies you don't like?"
Her frown transformed rapidly into what I knew was now a look of almost irrational irritation as she answered me with a dry tone.
"Romantic comedies."
Tongue in cheek, my brows arched in question at her answer, lost as to why she would find them offensive.
Sitting back in her seat, Bella tucked her hands beneath her armpits and started her rant.
"Romantic comedies are completely unoriginal and absurdly predictable from the minute you start watching it to the minute it ends in the most unsatisfying manner possible…I mean in what day and age does the girl always end up with the guy, even though they try and sabotage each other throughout the entire ninety minutes that you're watching them. It's just ridiculous. Movies without any real conflict or subtext cannot create anything of substance…it about as interesting to watch them, as it is a wall of paint that's drying. That's why I enjoy the older movies – movies that were made with a theme and a back-story and an idea that can actually be believed in, and not one that makes you want to hang yourself just so you don't have to sit through it when you're obligated to."
Arching my brows further still so that they felt as though they were buried in my hairline, I chuckled as Bella completed her low opinion of the drivel that seemed to dominate the current global box office; our opinions in perfect harmony with each other. The fact that she had added on the obligated part, was telling in itself…it was true to her character – she had not wanted to watch, but had done it solely for someone else's benefit.
I could certainly guess who it was and this time, I kept my answer as mildly enquiring.
"So, Renée likes them, then?"
Twisting her lips up, she nodded only once and with enough disbelieving indulgence to make me grin.
"Did she never watch what you enjoyed?"
She grinned at once, shaking her head. "Renée enjoys listening to classics, not watching them. I think she finds them a little too convoluted and not nearly fluffy enough for her tastes. I enjoy fluff, but in small doses and only when I'm in the right mood."
"Places you've been?"
Stabbing her fork into the last scrap of her meal, Bella chewed quickly before placing her fork in the empty container, sitting back and folding her arms across her stomach, each hand cupping the opposite elbow.
"Nowhere beyond the borders of the continental U. S.…you already know about Phoenix and I went to Albuquerque once, but that was more of a road trip with Renée when I was younger. California for a while and into Utah for a bit, but not long – just passing through. We did almost go down to Mexico, but thankfully those plans fell through."
"Mexico?"
"Hmmm – Renée in one of her flakier moments decided that she wanted to marry Phil on some beach in Mexico…we had the passports prepared and the accommodation all picked out – until of course she discovered that the holiday destination she had picked was more rustic than she wanted it to be…everything just fell apart after that, so they decided on a civil ceremony in Phoenix."
An abrupt chuckle broke from her lips as she shook her head at whatever humorous connotation was attached to this memory.
"Actually, decide is a subjective term – we; Phil and I, basically talked her out of it…Renée is easy to dissuade when there is just one person doing the talking; with two of us, she didn't stand a chance."
I could imagine she was…the mentioning of her step-father revived a previous question.
"Phil is more level-headed than Renée, even though he's younger?"
"Yes. I know that I told you before that I found him only okay, but I actually do like him. He's very good for Renée, which at the end of the day is all that really matters, isn't it?"
Grimacing internally, I refrained from commenting on that…being good for someone when that person could not see the inherent danger that lay within it was not a subject I wanted to pursue.
Steering the subject back to safer waters as I heard the longing in Bella's voice – I did not want her to become melancholic, I instead asked.
"What did you mean by rustic?"
Biting the inside of her cheek lightly, Bella's mouth twisted to the side as she answered.
"Rustic…as in no running water – or to be accurate, no clean running water and only cold at that, one old diesel generator that probably pre-dated the Independence of Mexico and only provided electricity for the lights and self-service catering…which basically meant foraging on the beach for your supper. Now I'm okay with seafood, but I object to having to catch, kill and clean it before eating it."
My lips twisted upward at her sarcastic tone, envisioning her trying to chase after a crab as it scuttled across the sand to hide in its burrow.
"But there was a beach though – which was what she wanted."
She shook her head at my logic, grinning widely. "Yes, at the very least – there was a beach."
"Places you want to go?"
The answer to this question was more important than the reply to the last…though I could not act on it – not now, maybe never. Being alone with Bella in a crowded cafeteria was already more than enough of a challenge to my self-restraint; I could only begin to wonder over the dangers posed with having her with me in a foreign country…alone.
It was an impossible desire to stifle within myself, but the prospect of being able to travel with her – even if it were only to another state and not necessarily abroad – was tantalizing…to have the chance of showing her sights she had never seen, sounds she had never heard…to watch her sample a cuisine she had never imagined and watch her face light up as she discovered everything about this world that was good and wonderful…I so badly wanted to experience that with her.
Shrugging her slender shoulders, Bella again nibbled on her bottom lip, "Europe, maybe…Ireland, Portugal, Scotland, Spain, Germany, Switzerland…maybe Italy because of the history and culture. I don't know really. I figured maybe I should explore more of my own country first, before I went flying off to another."
I nodded unconcernedly at her answer, watching as she reached for the bottle of lemonade, but my stomach twisted into a tense knot as I processed her answer, unable to assist her again…Italy – just the place that I wanted to keep her away from and that was where she decided she wanted to be!
Stifling the shudder that I wanted to vent, I thought back to Carlisle's warning yesterday.
Keeping Bella's existence – and more importantly her knowledge of our existence – a secret from the ever-listening ears of the Volturi and their sycophants had been a minor concern last night in the wake of everything else that I had to deal with, but it was now suddenly a very real concern to be considered as I didn't want Bella anywhere near Italy…in fact; Europe at large was off limits unless I was with her…and even then, it would be avoided at all costs.
Having Bella within the reaching, ghoulish grasp of those harbingers filled me with dread – they would not know her or treat her as anything other than what they considered beneath them…she would be nothing more than a means to an end for them.
Blinking quickly, I refocused my thoughts, brushing aside a worry that was a moot point at the moment.
"Favorite book?"
This response would be a testament to the knowledge that Bella had gained for one so young – living in a world that was cruel and merciless could provide only so much of a viewpoint; all usually negative, but considering her limited traveling, she would have gained it from between pages…pages contained in books that I had yet to learn the nature of. The only one I really knew of was her anthology of Jane Austen novels, not that I could tell her that – she would ask for sure how I had that information and then just how would I answer?
Oh, it's nothing, Bella…I just invade your privacy every moment I can as well as sit with you through most of the night when you're sleeping.
I groaned internally as the list of my own transgressions grew.
Fiddling with the strands of curling hair as it lay over her shoulder, Bella's mouth softened at my question in a way that instantly captivated my attention.
This would be an interesting answer…
"That's not as easy a question to answer as with the movies."
I knew that already, but I still tilted my head in a questioning movement, sincerely interested.
"Why?"
"Because I've had a love affair with books that predates any movie I've ever watched…if I had to give up one, it would be a decision not even worth considering."
Books, I was sure, would be the victor…
No matter the revelation that this girl divulged – purposefully or not – it never ceased to amaze me that she could be so uniquely minded. There was no logic to the words that she spoke, because the logic of a normal seventeen year old had yet to be formed and I had yet to hear one – internally or not, that surprised me…yet with this one, it was as though she was spheres apart from her contemporaries.
"All right, so maybe then my question should have been how many books are favorites and what makes them so?" I continued.
"Yes," she agreed softly. "That should have been your question."
Indicating with a motion of my white hand, I gave her the floor, preparing myself for a larger onslaught than the cinematic question had garnered.
"The great American novels and novelists of the last century are worth mentioning obviously…mostly because it would unpatriotic to not…but, it's the British that I really love. When I was thirteen, Renée found this really worn, dog-eared paperback at a flea market in Phoenix. It was made up of the complete work of Jane Austen. Up until that point I had only come across her work in fleeting glimpses and had scoured the local library for anything on her, but sadly, the municipality had not catered for great literary tastes, so I had come up empty handed. When Renée brought that book and gave it to me, I was instantly hooked …like a meth addict, I couldn't get enough and was almost angry with a woman who had been dead for almost two hundred years because she hadn't written more."
Stopping to lower her head as she laughed at herself, I smiled as her self-conscious blush washed over her porcelain skin, touching it with a fiery glow as intense as my enthrallment.
"So you're an Austen fan, then?"
My question was posed innocently enough with just the right mixture of curiosity and surprise to make it plausible that I was only learning this information for the first time…obviously I wasn't – I was already familiar with that book.
"Which novel stands out for you?"
"Hmmm, hard to say – I love them all, but it's probably Mansfield Park…it was her third book and by that stage her sense of realism and sharp irony had been refined to within an inch of its life. I also just loved the characters – some were moral with ethics that could not be corrupted and others so corrupted, that you could never see their goodness, but you still somehow knew it was there. She was an incredible novelist and had a worldly outtake that was highly unusual for a woman of that era and social stature. She was a true pioneer in every sense of the word."
"I prefer Persuasion…but I do understand your choice."
I was familiar with all of the characterizations within the Austen novels and Bella was correct in her assessment of the groundbreaking strides that the Englishwoman had made to the literary world…what was more astounding though, was that a thirteen-year old had somehow recognized and identified with that at such a young age.
"Bronte Sisters?"
"Jane Eyre and Wuthering Heights, yes…but not of Tenants of Wildfell Hall, even though it was a continuation of Wuthering Heights."
I frowned in confusion as to why she would have enjoyed Wuthering Heights…it was a horrid novel, filled with nothing more than malicious, malignant characters bent on not only destroying their own happiness, but of those around them, most notably, the people that they loved the most.
Knowing that if I asked about this choice, I would only slow down my own investigation, I shelved it for the moment and continued to press, knowing that we were rapidly running out of time.
"Who else?"
"Virginia Woolf's To The Lighthouse, and Mrs. Dalloway – though I have to be in a really upbeat mood to even contemplate reading the latter, William Shakespeare's comedies – in particular, A Midsummer Night's Dream, The Taming Of The Shrew, The Winter's Tale and Much Ado About Nothing. With his tragedies, it would have to be Romeo and Juliet, Macbeth, Hamlet and Othello. Henry Fielding's The History Of Tom Jones, Daniel Defoe's Moll Flanders, Julian Barnes' England, England, Frances Hodgson Burnett's The Secret Garden, J. M. Barrie's The Admirable Crichton. I find the subject matter with H. G. Wells a little heavy, though I have read War of the Worlds and The Island Of Dr. Moreau. The same for Alan Moore with his Watchmen and From Hell. Agatha Christie and her Whodunits I found really entertaining when I was younger, especially And Then There Were None. Renée tried to get me interested in Roald Dahl and C. S. Lewis and up until a certain stage I found them tolerable, but I won't touch them now…I tried Jules Vern's A Journey To The Centre Of The Earth and found it so mind numbing I've never tried again. Charles Dickens I would probably rate as highly as Jane Austen with Great Expectations and A Tale Of Two Cities. They both have such an unobstructed view of the world that you can't help but sit up and take notice."
Again, I was surprised at the choices that Bella had made. Most I agreed with, but Virginia Woolf's was the one exception…why would she enjoy reading a novel that revolved around a woman's singular intent on committing suicide?
This one, I would not let slide, as it worried me considerably more than her Wuthering Heights answer.
"Mrs. Dalloway?"
Surely she could hear the concern in my voice?
Laughing at what I knew was my astonished expression, Bella nodded. "Yes…and before you jump to any conclusions, I know that Virginia Woolf was…"
I interjected before she could complete the sentence. "Unbalanced and self-destructive?"
Laughing loudly at my unwarranted participation, though I had half expected her to be irked, I widened my eyes as I waited for her answer, anxious almost to hear how she would phrase this.
"Yes…but it wasn't by choice. I think she was simply unhappy and severely unstable. Clinical depression is treatable now – it wasn't then and even if it had been, there was no one to correctly diagnose it. So, yes, her thoughts about her own death and mortality were translated into words, but how was her wanting a solution to what she considered the problem of her own condition, insane? Edgar Allan Poe was the same – he was obsessed by death, yet no one ever considered him mad – merely peculiar and a little morbid."
"And you don't consider the continued efforts of your own demise, insanity? How do you define insanity?" I demanded, unable to believe that we…we of all people, were having a conversation about mortality.
"The repetition of something time and time again, without deviation, expecting a different outcome, but never receiving one."
"Correct…and you don't think attempting to commit suicide without success is repetition?"
"Yes…but she succeeded in the end, so she subverted the definition."
Shaking my head at her irrational logic whilst she continued to watch me with a calm that defied my own ruffled thoughts, I tried to match her words to what I had learnt about her already, but they did not fit…I knew that she was in no way inclined towards the macabre, so why would this catch her attention?
"You're doing it again."
Blinking, I centered my attention back to Bella and her chiding words…obviously my eyes were darkening again as she looked on at me with disapproval.
"You know, you can't expect me to agree with everything you say or not say things that are going to disturb you…I do have an opinion, Edward."
Yes, she did, I realized…and a rather vocal one at that. For some bizarre reason, this made me smile widely. It was refreshing, as most within my household would not argue with me beyond the point of reason; Alice really was the only one that insisted on trying to continue past that point.
Frowning, Bella sighed irritably at my inexplicable change in mood.
"What now?"
Shaking my head, I reassured her. "It's nothing. I know that you have an opinion, Bella…and I'm not expecting you to always agree with my own, just as you can't expect me to like everything you say and do – your safety; physical or otherwise, is important to me."
"Fine," she agreed, grumbling at my distinction.
"British Poets?" I pressed, eager to hear if she had any other predilections for death.
"Tennyson, Keats, Carroll…all the usual suspects. Thomas Hardy's Under the Waterfall and In the Moonlight I really enjoy, too."
The relief I felt was profound as she ticked off all fundamentalists that harbored no desire for the morbid.
"All good choices," I agreed readily. "Now for that patriotism you were talking about."
Rubbing her hands together as her elbows planted firmly over the surface of the table, Bella bit down gently on her lip as she compiled her list.
"Toni Morrison's The Bluest Eye, Salinger's The Catcher In The Rye, Lucy Montgomery's Anne Of Green Gables series, Jon Krakauer's Into The Wild, Harper Lee's To Kill A Mockingbird, Henry James' The American, Portrait Of A Lady and The Turn Of The Screw, F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, Paul Theroux's Mosquito Coast, William Faulkner's The Sound And The Fury, Alice Walker's The Color Purple, Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar, Ernest Hemingway's For Whom The Bell Tolls…The short stories of Tennessee Williams are great, too. Stephen King's The Green Mile, is an absolute must read…"
I grinned to myself as she looked away from me for a moment, taking a deep breath. So there was Stephen King in her collection…I waited with bated breath to see if she would mention any Anne Rice.
"…Jack Kerouc's On The Road and Vision Of Cody, Suzanne Colins' The Underland Chronicles, Cormac McCarthy's All The Pretty Horses…this list too, could go on for days, but those are the one's that stand out."
I felt an irrational stab of disappointment that she had not mentioned the Vampire Chronicles, but Bella was a deeply pragmatic person; it would have been out of character for her to have them.
"I've also read some Tolstoy, Robbins, Dostoevsky, Twain, Flaubert and Eliot…"
I shuddered at Tolstoy…Russian literature was not a favourite.
"Philosopher's?"
Grimacing, Bella titled her head to the side in a clear indication of her discontent. "A little of Nietzsche, Voltaire, Socrates, Aristotle and Rawls, but I try to steer clear all together; Philosophy to me only complicates life – it doesn't explain it, despite most sciences being based on it."
I kept my opinion to myself, thinking uncomfortably of the gilt-edged diploma for the Ph.D. in that very subject that hung proudly in Esme's office…how would Bella's stance of philosophy alter if she knew that it was a subject that I had extensive knowledge on?
"American Poets?"
Frowning a little, Bella stared at me for a moment, probably expecting an opinion on the matter of philosophy, but when she received none, instead replied.
"T.S. Elliot, E.E. Cummings, Robert Frost…Judith Skillman. Poetry has a certain appeal, but no sustainability – it's why I prefer novels. You have a deeper sense of gratification for something that holds your attention for longer than a minute."
"True, but a poem can be as powerfully evocative as a novel...no matter its length. Simple words strung together in a sentence are sometimes all that it takes to change the entire perception of the reader, Bella."
A flare of intuition brightened the dark depths of her eyes as Bella recognised on some instinctive level that I knew the difference between what was said and what was not. "Yes…they can. Have you read any of what I've mention?"
Smirking at her ploy to switch the attention from herself, I nodded my head, "yes…all of them and I agree with your choices…well, most of them."
Glaring, Bella curled up her lip in annoyance, knowing to whom I was referring.
"Do I have to defend Virginia Woolf again, Edward?"
Shaking my head quickly, I held up my hands in supplication, "no, Bella. You've defended her admirably already. Have you seen any plays, theatre productions?"
"George Shaw's Pygmalion, Tennessee William's Cat On A Hot Tin Roof and A Street Car Named Desire were produced by the local theatre in Phoenix which I went to watch with Renée a few years ago…they were okay, although I have no other experience to base this comparison on, so they could have been awful."
Local theatre usually was, I thought drily.
"Personal irritations?"
Bella glared very pointedly at me as soon as those words fell from my lips. "Well, you already know about lying and double standards…"
Leaving the question hanging, she arched her brows at me "What are yours?"
Shaking my head at the obvious eagerness in her voice, I refused to answer her questions…there would be time for that later – if I allowed it.
"There are too many to list and I'm not done with you yet…favorite childhood memory?"
Snorting to herself, Bella stretched out the sleeves of her turtleneck, playing with the edges as she tugged them almost to her knuckles.
"When I was still being dropped off here for my mandatory summer holiday with Charlie, Renée would leave almost immediately…either because she didn't want to encroach of our time together, or because this place brought back too many memories that she didn't want to deal with. One summer, when I was about ten, we all had breakfast together in a diner out on the main route before my mother headed back south again and for a while, it was like being part of a complete family. My parents didn't argue or bicker…they simply ate and enjoyed each other's company. It of course didn't last the entire meal, but for a while, it was nice to pretend."
Lowering her head further in self-mockery as her melancholy made another appearance, I wished she hadn't…I wished she could have seen the expression of indulgent tenderness on my face.
I had lost my biological family in the epidemic that ravaged Chicago, almost claiming my life in the process and had it not been for Carlisle's intervention my sense of family would have ended then, but it hadn't and through him, I had found another…I knew what a complete family felt like…and I knew what I felt like to contemplate losing it.
"When did you stop coming here for your summer break?"
Raising her head, Bella shrugged her shoulders, trying to remember clearly.
"When I was about fourteen; I refused to stay in Forks for the two weeks that I spent with Charlie, so we compromised and met halfway in southern California…Charlie doesn't like Arizona – he finds it too hot and dry and by that stage, Phil had just entered the picture so it would have been more than awkward."
Three years ago…we had just relocated back to Forks when Bella had left – we had missed each other by a matter of months...
What would I have done if I had met her at the age of fourteen? Would I have recognised her as mine…would I have acted on it, knowing her age, or would the insatiable lust for her blood have driven me to complete what I had almost done months ago?
I was afraid that it was the latter…
"Jessica said that you and your family moved down here from somewhere north a few years ago…when exactly?"
Curiosity compelled Bella to ask the question, but coincidence would be her only answer as I shook my head, consciously aware that we had no more than ten minutes left before lunch was over.
"Have you ever taken part in a psychoanalyst examination, Bella? The kind that requires you to give only one or two words answers?"
Quirking her brow at me in dissatisfaction at my uncooperativeness, Bella nodded slowly.
"Good. I'm going to ask you series of simple, random questions that should take more than a word or two too answer…I don't want you to over-think this, just say the first thing that comes to mind, all right? Ready?"
"Wait," she interrupted, holding out her hand. "I've been talking for the past hour about myself…how is it you still have unanswered questions?"
Because you're still evasive…and I'm beginning to think that it's more deliberate than I've ever realised.
"Because you've generalized on every aspect of what I've enquired about you…I want specifics, Bella…ready?"
Nodding reluctantly as she furtively checked the time on the old analogue clock above the doors of the cafeteria, Bella sighed heavily as she too became aware of the time, but for another reason entirely…there was more than enough time to do this and she knew it.
I had another reason for this…often when asked quick-fire questions, it was the truth that came to mind first, and there were still questions that I knew if I asked, she would dodge.
"What is the food that you favour the most – one dish only?"
"Denver Omelet."
"If you could have anything to drink, what would it be?"
"Ice Tea."
"One movie you can watch over and over again?"
"To Kill A Mockingbird."
"One song that stands out the most?"
"Bittersweet Symphony."
"Cereal that would choose over any other?"
"Cheerios."
"Fruit that you always choose to eat?"
"Strawberry."
"Vegetable that you favour?"
"Pumpkin."
"Do you have a lucky number?"
"No."
"Subject you enjoy the most?"
"English."
"Subject you would drop if you could?"
"Trigonometry."
"Phobias of any kind?"
"Yes…Claustrophobia and Trypanophobia."
"Religious denomination?"
"None."
"Day of the week that you would keep if the rest were done away with?"
"Wednesday."
"What makes you cry at unexpected times?"
"Fur coats.
"What makes you laugh the most?"
"My mother."
"Worst unbreakable habit?"
Biting down on her bottom lip, Bella demonstrated by pointing at it.
"Are you superstitious at all?"
Bella's brow quirked up in derision before she answered. "No."
"Political affiliation?"
"None really – what's good for the goose is good for the gander."
"Hobby you indulge in most often?"
"Reading."
"Secret skill?"
"None that I know of – when I find one, I'll let you know."
"Childhood toy that you couldn't do without?"
"A raggedy bear that I still have…it has only one ear and suffers from major hair loss."
"Can you speak any other languages?"
"Spanish – barely."
"Do you play any instruments?"
A snort was my only answer.
"What's your favourite gemstone?"
"Topaz," Bella blurt out in an almost involuntarily rush, sucking in a deep breath of air after my endless barrage of questions; her hasty response followed almost immediately by her cheeks burning so fiercely that they almost glowed in their chagrin.
Tucking her chin into her throat, Bella tried to hide herself from me as I pondered her reply and the reason behind her embarrassment, irritated again that she was still concealing more than she was revealing.
Topaz was merely a semi-precious stone made up of an amalgamation of swirling gold's and splashing browns; one of the arbitrary many that Bella could have chosen to tell me. I would have expected it to be something more aesthetically pleasing of course…a diamond, ruby or emerald; stones cut in multiple facets that would glitter and glisten in the sunlight…
Just like yourself in the sun, Edward.
My thoughts took an unpleasant turn as I made the uncomfortable comparison between those hard, gleaming stones and that of my own skin…only Bella would not be fascinated or admiring of the way my skin caught and reflected the light of the sun…she would be repulsed.
Still silent through my grim retrospection, I watched as Bella's restless fingers traced over the groves etched into the tabletop; her gaze cemented to the faded surface…as if she found it endlessly fascinating, but still, she would not explain her answer…or her discomfiture.
Finally, before I reduced my teeth to powder, I demanded imperiously.
"Tell me."
Sighing in a way that told me clearly that she wished I had moved on from this question as easily as I had the earlier, Bella picked up her discarded fork and drew patterns into the leftover gravy in the foil tray.
Leaning forward, I opened my mouth again to try cajoling, but my breath caught in my chest as Bella chose in that exact same moment to bite down on her plush, bottom lip again.
I had the strongest impulse to slide my finger along the smooth seam of her mouth and release her captured bottom lip; liberate it and then stroke the tip of my finger over the slight indents left from her teeth…maybe even…maybe even, just lightly press my…
Closing my eyes briefly, I inhaled warily, forcing my thoughts away from what would be certain disaster.
A gentle sigh – soft as the wisp of a dandelion tearing from its mooring – forced my attention back to Bella as she at long last answered my question with a disgruntled tone and a reluctance that I had yet to understand as she twirled her hair around her finger.
"It's the colour of your eyes today. I suppose if you asked me in two weeks I'd say Onyx."
My lungs stuttered and stalled in the moment of Bella's honest confession; swelling up in a haze of heat that spread outward through the heart that no longer beat and the lungs that no longer required breath…burning, ashing, binding and reforming to create a realization of intense emotion that I should have stifled at every cost…one that should have made me furious, but one that I could no longer fight against.
I knew now why Bella would not listen to what her better judgment told her – it was exactly the same reason that I would not listen to mine; we were both helpless to fight against what we both wanted the most.
Each other…
