Disclaimer: All things Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
For six days there is no sign of Edward. Not at school. Not at The Drum.
I try to be patient.
And in the meantime, while I wait for him to make an appearance, I live my life and try not to dwell on the last words he said to me after he bought his CDs and walked out of the store.
I study.
I work.
I go with friends to find Halloween costumes for parties I've been invited to but don't want to attend.
On day seven I cave and call Alice. She tells me Edward went hunting for a couple of days but has otherwise been at school...except for the two sunny days in the middle of the week. When I tell her I haven't seen him she reminds me that I had been at college here for six weeks before I saw him the first time.
I wonder if he's avoiding me.
I worry.
And I wait.
I let nature take its course and just hope that nature and I are on the same page.
oo
Ten days after our awkward encounter at The Drum, I find Edward. Or maybe Edward finds me.
It's Tuesday again and as I walk into the library for another study session with Alex I see my bronze haired vampire. He's sitting at the desk where Alex and I usually work and I feel like the world has disappeared and there's only me, and Edward, and the five or six yards that lies between us.
He's watching me as I make my way towards him in what feels like slow motion. Edward's lips curve slowly into a soft, slightly wary smile. His amber eyes are different today, they're cautious and guarded, but no longer indifferent as he lifts his hand in a gesture of hello.
My heart swells and I smile back and wonder if he's been waiting for me. Suddenly I feel encouraged, the worries and doubts of the past ten days seem a little less, but only a little, because I still have no idea where this is going.
Don't get too excited, I tell myself. He mightn't be waiting for you. He's just sitting at a desk in the library, that's all. He has his books out, he's probably just here to study.
"Hi, Edward." I pull out a chair opposite him.
"Hello, Bella."
I try to stay cool as I take a book and my notes from my bag and set them on the desk in front of me. From under my lashes I see him watching. I can feel his eyes following my every movement, studying what I do, but he stays silent. He rocks his pen back and forth between his fingers in an absent sort of way.
I spread out my notes.
"How's the music?" I ask him, taking my time before I glance up. "Have you listened to all those CD's yet?" Miraculously, I sound much more casual than I feel and I congratulate myself on finding a good conversation opener so quickly. But beneath the desk my leg is bouncing so hard I'm surprised the whole desk isn't vibrating. It's a second or two before Edward answers.
"Er, yes," he says, almost vaguely. "Well, I've listened to some of them, anyway." He says nothing more, but his eyes are still on me. Right now I would give just about anything to know what he's thinking. He turns away now, looking towards the notice board on the wall under the high windows.
I reach into my bag for a pencil. I know he can hear my heart racing and pounding in my chest and I wonder what he makes of that. And I wonder what he's made of it in the past when he's no doubt heard it shatter and break. What does it sound like then?
"You were right about The Chimes," he says suddenly and when I look up I find myself staring straight into his eyes and I can almost feel myself drowning in them. Drowning in honey, I think idly. "Track four is very good."
I nod, dumbly. "Um...yeah." And I take a quick breath. "The harmonies on that one are so, er..." Suddenly I'm stumped for a description.
"Beautiful?" Edward suggests, eyes interested, questioning. It's so good to see something more than mild politeness, even if it's not memories.
"I was going to say transcendent."
His eyebrows lift, just slightly, and then a small smile tugs at his lips. He nods and looks down at his notes and I look down at mine. A soft silence falls between us and belies the small seed of excitement that is growing inside me.
"A capella groups don't have such a big following in the college music market," Edward says softly after a moment. "It's a surprise to find someone else who liked that type of music." His words are casual enough and when I look up he still seems focused on his notes, his eyes cast down, but there's a shadow of a frown over his face now. It's almost as if he was thinking out loud, except that when I don't respond he lifts his eyes and looks at me through his lashes. My skin tingles under his gaze.
"Well, there are at least two of us," I murmur, and follow it with a shrug.
I don't know what I've said, but for a fleeting second he looks lost and I want so badly to hug him. I try to keep a neutral face and he recovers himself very quickly before looking down at his notes again.
And another silence falls.
I don't even bother to try and work on my assignment. I know it's impossible with Edward just opposite me. So I sit and wonder what to say next. I flip over a page of my text book, just for appearances, and start copying down the words without knowing what they are. I think my leg has bounced a hole through the floor.
"Tudor England?"
He's speaking again, his expression is clear and open now when I look up and it occurs to me that maybe he's trying to make conversation too. The thought is very welcome. He has set his pen down and his hands are folded elegantly on the desk in front of him.
"Yeah, Alex and I are working on an assignment together. Right now he's trying to convince me that Henry the eighth was a sociopath."
Edward's eyebrows inch up a little.
"And you don't agree?"
I shrug and shift in my seat. "It's not that I don't agree, I just don't think it's that simple."
"What's not so simple?" He cocks his head, his eyes are curious again. He really wants to talk about Henry the eighth? Okay.
"Well, you have to look at the times Henry lived in," I begin and start ticking things off my fingers. "There's the fact that as monarch he had absolute power, and that power was supposed to be God-given. And then you have to look at the laws in existence, the beliefs people held, and the superstitions. Plus there were plenty of people waiting for any opportunity to take the throne, so Henry had to protect himself. And there was the need to produce a male heir, and forge ties with other nations..." I stop.
"You've run out of fingers," Edward smiles.
"Yeah, I have." I smile back and fold my hands in front of me on the desk, mirroring Edward's pose, but my nails are chipped and chewed and I tuck them under. "I'm not saying he wasn't a sociopath," I finish off, "I just think there's a lot more to it than that."
"Interesting," Edward murmurs softly and I wonder if he means me, or what I've said, or the scribble on the desk top that his finger is tracing over right now. I feel like yelling...What? What? What is interesting? He looks up and away towards the book stacks and there is silence again.
This is exhausting. And draining. I fight the urge to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow.
I don't want the conversation to stall, but what do I talk about now? Maybe I could mention the rain that has started pounding on the windows.
"Um, so it looks like…"
Edward looks at me directly but I get no further in my quest to discuss the weather because we're interrupted. Alex sits down next to me and a girl pulls out the seat two along from Edward, leaving a space between them. She looks at him shyly. Immediately I stiffen. There's a flicker of resignation on Edward's face and he gives her a polite almost-smile.
"Hello Ellie," he says and I'm glad there's no real tone to his voice.
Ellie giggles and starts a conversation with him about a psychology assignment – she's obviously in one of his classes. In the meantime Alex is trying to talk to me about Tudor England but my focus is on Edward as Ellie chats away about sample groups and ink blot tests and I hear her ask Edward if he's found his three 'victims' yet.
"I have two," he says mildly, glancing across at me as Alex tugs on my sleeve.
"Bella, are you listening to anything I'm saying?" he asks.
"Yes, sorry. The rise of the house of Tudor…"
"Actually, Bella has some interesting ideas about King Henry," Edward breaks in suddenly. "We were just talking about him."
Ellie scowls at me, obviously putting two and two together and realising I'm Bella.
"Yeah? What ideas?" Alex looks at me. "Oh, is this your 'look at the whole picture' theory?" He shakes his head. "Bella, the guy was nuts...simple."
We start a half-hearted debate and I can feel Edward's eyes on me while Ellie tries to get his attention back.
"You could always ask me to be your third victim," she giggles.
"It can't be someone from the class," Edward answers without taking his eyes from me.
"I know that, but Dr Drummond doesn't have to know it's me." From the corner of my eye I watch her lean over and, very hesitantly, go to touch his arm. My stomach churns but Edward shifts, moving his arm smoothly out of her way before she makes contact. It's such a subtle move it almost seems it hasn't happened. Ellie blinks a little and withdraws her fingers. I try to focus again on Alex as Ellie wants to know who Edward is going to ask, then.
"Actually, I was thinking of asking Bella."
I look up sharply, straight into his eyes. He's frowning, his mouth slightly open, and I get the feeling he's just as surprised by his words as I am.
"Oh," Ellie arches an eyebrow at me. Edward runs his hand through his hair and looks away.
I look down at my book and I can feel my skin tingling. There's silence at the table, a strange sort of tension has descended, an electricity and the air almost crackles with it. I wonder if Edward feels it too. Ellie gathers her things and makes a great show of leaving.. Alex suddenly decides to go look for another book. My stomach is in knots and my feet are pushing into the carpet.
I start doodling on the corner of my notepad, a swirly spiral that goes round and round and round...
"Will you?" Edward's voice comes softly across the desk. I look up and his face is so unsure, so confused as he looks at me. But he gives me a shy smile and a nervous laugh. "Will you be my third victim? Please?"
I smile back. "How can a girl say no to an invitation like that?"
A fleeting look of relief passes over his features and he chuckles softly. He runs his hand through his hair again and I watch the movement of his throat as he swallows hard. Venom pooling, perhaps. Or maybe just nerves. I wonder which it is. And why.
"What would I have to do?" I ask.
He shifts a little in his seat as he begins to outline the assignment for his Psychology Assessment course.
"I need to interview three people," he explains. "Well, interview is probably the wrong word. I just need to ask for their responses to certain pictures and words. I won't actually analyse anything, it's just an exercise to demonstrate how certain tests are delivered, and to show how individuals can look at the same image, or hear the same word, and think of different things." He takes a slow breath. "Do you think it's something you'd be interested in? It would only take half an hour."
"I think I'd be interested in that," I smile. My heart is running around in my chest, looking for something to high-five. When it finds nothing it decides to bounce off my ribs instead. "So, where and when?"
He pulls his hand through his hair again, his long fingers tangling in the silky bronze and it's clear he hasn't thought that far ahead. And this is new territory for him, interacting so closely with a human. At least, he thinks it's new territory.
"How about tomorrow?" he asks. "We could meet here, I suppose." He frowns and looks around.
"Is there a problem with here?"
"The assignment is supposed to be confidential. This feels a bit public, but I could book one of the quiet rooms."
"Or, I'm not working this afternoon, maybe you could come to my place. I don't live far."
My heart is about to break a rib, it's hammering so hard. I've just asked him to my apartment! Suddenly I can't breathe.
"I don't know…" he says slowly and frowning slightly.
I look down, embarrassed now. I've pushed too far. And if I'm honest, if he'd been anyone else I probably wouldn't have invited him home so easily. I go back to my doodling.
"Alright, if you don't mind then I could come over this afternoon."
My surprise is obvious when I look up and when he sees my face I can tell he's about to change his mind but I don't give him a chance to say anything. Instead I tear off a piece of notepaper and write out my address. We agree on a time and we exchange cell phone numbers just in case. Then he picks up his satchel and slings it over his shoulder.
"You're going?"
He nods. "There are some things I need to do. And I should let you and Alex get on with Henry." He gives me a small smile. "So, I'll see you this afternoon at five?" And suddenly he looks unsure again. "If you change your mind it's okay."
"I won't change my mind."
He nods and walks away as Alex returns and I wonder how I'm going to concentrate on possibly sociopathic monarchs now!
-0-
My thumb nail is chewed way down. It's a habit I started after Edward left and it's something I really should stop. I stop biting and look at the clock again; it's four fifty seven. The apartment is tidy, the novelty hotdog slippers Renee sent me are tucked away, out of sight, under my bed, and I've deliberately not contacted Alice. I want to do this on my own...I want to let nature take its course, wherever it might lead me.
It's getting darker outside, heavy black clouds are blanketing the sky and there's a very distant rumble of thunder.
There's a knock at the door and I jump. Five o'clock, he's exactly on time and I take a deep, slow breath before I answer the door.
"Hi," I say and stand back, holding the door open as he says hello and walks in, hands in his front pockets, satchel slung over his shoulder. He's here. Edward is here in my apartment. All the times I've wished for this…
He looks around and here in my living room he seems even taller, I don't know why. His hair is a mess, windblown from the weather I guess. It's studded with raindrops, they glisten like tiny diamonds among the strands and I want to sweep my hand over them, wiping them away like I would have done once before, but can't now. I'm surprised when he gives his head a shake, spraying me with them.
"Oh!" I giggle and step back.
"Sorry," he says quickly as he realises and he smooths his hand over his head, soaking up what's left. He gives me a sheepish smile. "I didn't think," and this fact clearly bothers him, it shows in his face.
I tell him not to worry about it and he nods and turns to look around some more.
His eyes scan my bookshelves and they find something there that makes him smile - I wonder what it is. Some of the books he has seen before, even if he doesn't remember. Others are new. Then he turns to me, his face smooth, unreadable.
"Thank you for helping me with this," he says.
"No problem. Um, so, where do you want to do this?"
I think I'm waving my arm elegantly at the space around us but I suspect it looks more like I'm flapping a wing. And really, I don't know why I'm asking 'where' because apart from my bedroom and the bathroom, this is the only space.
"Here is fine," he says. "May I sit?"
"Sure, yeah, um, just sit wherever." I make another vague wave, or flap, towards the sofa and Edward smiles, but he settles himself instead into the rocking chair and I'm taken back to my bedroom in Forks, and waking up that first morning after the meadow and seeing him sitting there. My throat tightens, there's a pricking at my eyes.
"Um, can I get you something? Soda, coffee...?" It would be normal to offer, right?
"No, I'm fine, thank you."
He takes the satchel from his shoulder and pulls a folder from inside. Then he lets the satchel drop to the floor. He hasn't closed the flap and the soft leather bag sags open and I can just make out my bookmark tucked into the pocket in the lining. Edward looks up at me expectantly and suddenly I realise I should sit, too. I move to the sofa.
Edward's eyes make another fast, discreet sweep of the room. Most humans wouldn't even be aware he's doing it this time, but I am. Against the wall beside the rocking chair are the small shelves that hold my CDs and I know he's reading the titles on their spines. I don't have quite enough CDs to fill all three shelves and when I see him trying not to smile I know he's spied the souvenir I use to hold the end one in place.
"You like snow globes?"
I feel a blush creeping over my skin. "I know it's dorky and they're kitschy, but yeah, I kind of do. I keep it very quiet though, you can't tell anyone."
He chuckles a little at my remark and reaches out very gently to touch the plastic dome with the little green cactus in it. He gives the tiniest push and the glitter stirs from where it lays at the bottom. I never had it on display in Forks, this is the first time he's seen it.
"Do you have others?" he asks.
"No. Just that one."
"Phoenix doesn't strike me as a snowy kind of place." He picks the dome up now and tips it over and the silver specks spiral and swirl.
"I grew up in Phoenix, you're right, it's not very snowy," I give a sort of laugh and Edward smiles, but his eyes stay on the globe. "I think of it more as a glitter dome."
He nods.
"I had one of these when I was a boy," he says quietly, almost to himself and his words surprise me as he tips the globe and watches the glitter fall again. "It was from the Lincoln Park Zoo in Chicago. I think it had a tiger in it."
The smile stretches wide across my face. He so rarely spoke about his human time when I knew him before. His memories were few and faded, he told me. I take this small, new piece of information and treasure it.
"Do you still have it?" I ask.
"It's in a box somewhere." And he sets the snow globe back in place and opens the folder in his lap.
"Are you ready?" he asks. It's a sharp change of direction and makes me remember what it is like to keep up with him. When I nod he becomes all business. "Okay, this is an exercise for my Psychology Assessment course. We're learning the basic principles behind assessment tests like the Rorschach Inkblot Test, are you familiar with that test at all?"
"Only from movies and television."
"Same sort of idea," he smiles. "I'll just show you some cards with ink blots on them, you tell me what you see in the shapes. There are no right or wrong answers. I won't be recording your name, and this is all confidential. Are you happy to go ahead?"
I nod and we begin.
It's just like in the movies and I see a rabbit, an old man in a hat, a cabbage...
Edward's expression never changes and he doesn't speak, he simply holds up card after card and makes notes on the pad he has balanced on his knee while I sit perched on the edge of the sofa.
"Wing nut."
Edward looks up at me blinking. Then he looks down at the print.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing," he says quickly, staring at the black splattered against the white before turning back to me. "Most people say butterfly."
I smirk a little. "I'm not most people."
"No," he murmurs, frowning at the wing nut. "I think I'm beginning to see that."
A small thrill runs through me at his words and I wonder how much hope I should take from them. Or if I should take any.
"So, what do you see?" I ask and he looks just a little sheepish.
"A butterfly."
"How unoriginal," I roll my eyes in mock contempt and he chuckles.
The mood relaxes and I sink deeper into the sofa. Edward puts the cards down on the floor and sits further back in the rocking chair. He crosses one leg over the other at right angles.
"No more wing nuts?" I ask.
"Not right now. Are you ready for some word association?"
Oh...
"Okay, I think so."
He grabs his satchel and pulls out another folder. He looks up at me, eyes staring directly into mine. "Same rules as before, I won't be recording your name and this is confidential. I'll say a word, you say the first thing that comes into your head."
"Got it."
"Are you happy to go ahead?"
"Yes."
"Sun."
Oh, we've started….
"Er, moon."
He nods.
"Bird."
"Cat."
I see the faintest lift of an eyebrow as he makes notes on his paper.
"Fur," he says, without looking up.
"Coat."
"Happy."
"Sad."
"Mother."
"Eccentric."
He stops and looks up at me.
"Really?"
"Is...is that one of the words, or are you...?"
"Sorry, no, I just...is your mother eccentric?"
I sigh and scrunch up my nose.
"I don't know, I've never really...actually she might be. She's not your average mother, I know that."
He leans forward slightly, his face curious now. "Will you tell me?"
"Are you asking me about me about my relationship with my mother, Dr Freud?"
He laughs and sits back. "No...it's just an interesting response, that's all. You don't have to tell me."
"I don't mind," I smile and begin to tell him about Renee, just like I did in his Volvo on the way home from school two and a half years ago. I talk, I make vague mention of the divorce and Phil and how I spent some time with my dad. Edward asks some questions. When I'm done he's frowning, the confused look is back.
"Do you always call her by her first name?" he wants to know.
"Not when I'm talking to her. Then I call her Mom."
"Is that because you really think of yourself in the caretaker role, and she is like the child?"
"I thought you weren't analysing me?"
"Sorry," he says quickly and sits back. "Actually, I'm not, I really was just curious."
"It's okay, I'm just teasing." I don't mention that his curiosity has made me all sorts of happy.
He relaxes a little when I smile. "I've never really thought about it but I guess you're right, that probably is why I call her Renee."
"What do you call your father?"
Suddenly I'm on alert. Edward knows Charlie, he probably remembers him from before I arrived in Forks.
"Dad."
Edward nods and looks back at his notes. He pulls a hand through his hair.
"Er, shall we keep going?"
"Sure."
"Rainbow."
I have to think for a second. "Um, mm...sky?"
He nods. "Just say whatever you think of first. Friend..."
"Jacob."
"Home."
"Heart."
He makes more notes.
"Christmas."
"Tree."
"Birthday."
"Gone."
His head snaps up. My heart seizes. I feel the colour drain from my face as Edward stares at me, his face a picture of confusion.
"Most people say party, or cake," he says softly.
I swallow down the feeling of dread that always comes when I think of my birthday. And the feeling of panic.
"I thought you said there were no right or wrong answers."
"Of course," Edward says, his eyes darting quickly between mine. "It's just an unusual answer. Like before."
And I can't help it, I just can't help it...having him here, the memory of my birthday, what happened to him afterwards, and to me...I feel the tears burning and I know he can smell them, no matter how hard I blink them back.
"Bella?"
I wave him away as I stand up and grab the tissue box from the kitchen counter. My back is to him but I hear the creak of the rocking chair and I know he's standing now. Though I don't hear him take a step I even know when he moves closer, I can feel him.
"I've upset you." His voice is horrified. "I'm so sorry…"
I shake my head, keeping my back to him.
"I didn't mean to upset you…" Now I'm taken aback slightly by the pain in his voice.
"I know you didn't. It's okay," I try to reassure him, but it's kind of hard without looking at him but right at this second I don't know if I can.
There's silence but Edward's tension, his confusion and almost-panic, are palpable and I realise I'll have to give him some sort of explanation. . I sigh and take a couple of slow breaths as I turn around to face him. He has one hand is in his hair, but the other is extended, as if he was reaching out to touch me, but he withdraws it quickly. His jaw is set hard and I know his teeth are clenched tight. His eyes are dark with concern and he looks utterly lost and completely bewildered and totally out of his depth.
"I'm sorry," he mouths.
There's something blazing in his eyes, something new, something I can't fathom. But I feel a shift, somewhere deep inside me, and the ache that has lived in my heart for two years changes. It is for him now, not me.
Fortunately, somehow, my eyes stay dry. And as I stare at him in his distress, I realise the only way for me now is forward. The disastrous birthday was more than two years ago, it's holding me back and I have to let it go. If I'm going to have a future with Edward, or any future at all, I have to let it go.
I swallow hard and say the words.
"Something...awful...happened on my birthday a couple of years ago. It messed me up for a while and I haven't celebrated a birthday since...but I'm getting over it."
"I'm so sorry," he whispers and there's something like pain in his eyes…I can't quite read it. His hand at his side clenches slowly into a fist. "I'm so sorry, Bella. I didn't know..."
His words crash through me like a runaway train. Yes, you did know...you do know. You know. You were there. But I pull myself together...let it go, Bella. Focus on the future.
"S'okay." I give him a shaky smile as I take another slow breath and sit back down on the sofa. "It was a long time ago. Let's keep going. I'm fine."
I smile again to prove my point and Edward slowly lowers himself into the rocking chair, watching me carefully.
"I think we've done enough." His voice is low and soft. I know that voice and I know what it means; it means he won't be argued with. My heart sinks because I know what will happen now – he will pack up and leave.
"I'm okay, really."
"We've finished, anyway. There was only one word left."
He starts to gather up his papers.
"What word was it?" I want to know, but he shakes his head. A small ripple of frustration runs through me. He always did this, treated me like he knew best. "Edward, I'm not a kid. If I tell you I'm alright now then I really am alright now." I keep my voice low and steady and calm and I realise it's very different from the almost frantic, desperate tone I would use when I knew him before, even if the words are much the same.
There's surprise in his eyes when he looks up and blinks at me. I hold his gaze evenly.
"Chocolate," he says.
"Cake."
He gives me a small smile then lowers his head again as he continues to pack up. I watch him, watch his hands, such beautiful hands, as they smoothly guide the papers into their folder, the ink blots into their envelope, and then everything into the satchel.
He's decided. He's going. I can feel defeat washing over me; will it always be like this, whether it's today, or eighty years from today? I look away to the window and listen to the thunder rumble and watch the rain spatter on the glass.
"Would you like to hear a joke?"
His question knocks the breath right out of me. I turn back to him quickly and he's looking at me as he sets the satchel on the floor and sits back in the chair. He rests his right leg at an angle across the left and grips his ankle with both hands. His eyes are still concerned, and very, very unsure, but he's giving me a crooked, hopeful sort of smile.
He's not going.
"A…a joke?" I stammer.
He nods, almost eagerly, eyes wide and I nearly laugh with happiness…and astonishment. I don't think he could have said anything more surprising to me - he's never told me jokes before.
"Um, okay. Sure."
His face becomes serious now and I wonder what sort of joke it will be. He leans back a little more and lifts an eyebrow.
"How many psychologists does it take to change a light bulb?"
I giggle without even knowing the punch line and though I wonder how the mood could have shifted so quickly, I'm just so glad that it has.
"I don't know. How many?"
Edward holds up a single finger, that eyebrow lifts a little higher. "Just one. But the lightbulb must want to change."
It's a terrible joke but suddenly I'm laughing and so is he. In fact he sounds almost relieved. And I feel so much better as the laughter rolls through me.
"That's better," he says softly, "I like to see you smile. And laugh."
His words catch me off guard and I drop my eyes, face flushing, as my laughter trails off to a soft giggle. When I look up again he's staring at me with a new intensity that makes my blood sing and my heart soar and our eyes lock for a second before he looks away, almost as though it's too much. There's a moment of silence and I can feel that electricity again, that crackle in the air.
"Okay, I have one for you," I say, wanting to keep this going, and it's his turn to look surprised.
"Oh? Go on, then."
"What do you call a deer with no eyes?"
He smirks and makes a great show of considering his answer. "Mm..I have no idea."
My eyes narrow and I glare at him. He's taken my punch line – no idea, no eye deer. I pick up the small blue scatter cushion beside me and throw it at him as he laughs. Of course he catches it smoothly.
"You stole my joke!"
"Why do you say that? I might seriously have no idea." He grins, emphasising the words.
"Yeah right, Edward."
"Will you tell me another one, then? I promise I won't know the answer."
I snort. "How can you promise that?"
"I just can." And he tosses the cushion back to me. It lands gently, right in the middle of my lap.
"More?" he whispers, smiling, head tilted to his shoulder, and I'm momentarily dazzled.
"Um, I...I can't think of any."
"Okay, knock knock," he says, surprising me again. A knock knock joke? Edward? Really?
"Um, who's there?"
"Interuppting cow."
"Interrup..."
"Moooo!" he cuts in suddenly, loudly, interrupting me, and despite the awfulness of the joke I'm laughing really hard. It's actually kind of funny. And hearing Edward Cullen tell it is even funnier. I chuck the pillow back at him.
"You interrupting cow," I tease between giggles.
"Moo," he grins.
He tells me another knock knock joke, and I remember a couple of bad one liners from Jake, and the two of us are giggling so much we can hardly speak. I've never seen him like this before, never heard him tell jokes...and I like it. I like it a lot.
"Where do you get these?" I giggle after he's subjected me to a ridiculous story of a man with a parrot stuck to his shoulder.
"My brother mostly. He likes to tell jokes. The cornier the better."
"So, do you torture many people this way?" I grin and he shakes his head, grinning back at me.
"Er, actually...only you," he says and there's just a flash of confusion in his eyes as I give myself a mental hug - he only jokes with me. I decide that has to be a good thing.
But as I'm giving myself that hug Edward stands up slowly and gathers up his satchel.
"Oh, you're going?" I stand up too.
"I think I should," he says. "It's getting late."
I look at the clock. "It's seven thirty."
He frowns. "I have some things I need to do."
"Oh, okay." I walk the few steps with him to the door. This feels like it's happening too fast, but then, I've had so much more than I'd expected.
"Thanks for your help tonight," he says. "I appreciate it."
"Anytime. And thanks for the jokes."
"Anytime."
"I guess I'll see you around?" I'm trying to sound casual.
He nods. "See you around."
"Um, so, goodnight."
He turns the handle and opens the door. "Goodnight." But in the hallway he stops and turns. "You're in the library every Tuesday?"
My heart does a little leap.
"Yeah, usually…every Tuesday. I have a gap between eleven thirty and twelve forty five."
He nods and adjusts the satchel over his shoulder.
"Well, goodnight then," he says once more. He gives me a small smile, raises his hand in a wave, and then he's gone.
ooo-0-ooo
A/N: Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, I really appreciate your comments and feedback. And some of your theories are really making me smile. For those who are curious, The Chimes are a fictitious trio of a capella singers I created just for this story.
I've started the next chapter but it probably won't be finished before Christmas. I will try for between Christmas and New Year.
Thank you to Melanie for speedy beta skills and lots of good laughs :)
And special thank you to Elizabeth440 for her feedback - much appreciated :)
If you celebrate Christmas I hope you have a happy one! Cheers :)