A/N: For those who don't know, wapatoolie is an amazing liquor concoction, consisting of about 3-4 bottles of hard liquor, a bunch of fruit juice, and a bunch of sliced fruit. We used to make ours in big, Rubbermaid bins. It's quite dangerous, although I don't recall ever having danced on any pool tables after indulging in it.
As a side note, this entire story was inspired by the Adele song "Hello." If you haven't heard it yet (how could you not have?), go give it a listen. Seriously, that woman is nothing short of brilliant.
xo
-Chapter 4-
Minneapolis, 1999
After our stroke-of-midnight kiss, Edward was all I could think about. Try as I might, I couldn't get him out of my head. His lips were the first things on my mind when I woke up each morning, and his eyes were the last things I saw behind my lids when I went to bed each night. I longed for flannel shirts and dirty dancing, kisses that tasted like peppermint but felt like fire. I asked some of the guys from the party if they knew who he was, but nobody seemed to have a clue. I had resigned myself to the fact that I'd probably never see him again.
The university liked to torture its art history majors by forcing us to take several hands-on art classes. I had a few years to go before I needed to worry about my major coursework, but I wanted to get the painful stuff out of the way early on. Rip the Band-Aid off so I could focus on what I loved later. So, I took a leap and signed up for drawing.
I loved art. I loved it more than anything else. I loved to study it, to look at it, and to critique it. I did not love to create it, and I had little to no talent, especially when it came to drawing.
On the eve of my first assignment critique, I'd stayed up almost all night trying to perfect the shading on a charcoal still life of a cornucopia. I finally stumbled to bed after three in the morning, so thoroughly exhausted that I forgot to set my alarm. I woke up a few hours later, freaking out immediately because my class had already started. I knew I probably wouldn't get to the art building in time, but I tried anyway, and as I was running down the corridors of the floor that contained the studios, I rounded a corner and slammed into something hard and warm. The force knocked me backwards, and I fell in a heap on my ass.
"Whoa, are you okay?"
"Yeah, just a bit mortified …" my words trailed off when I cracked one eye open and saw springtime eyes staring back at me. Two blinks of my eyes and one pinch to my arm told me this was not in fact a dream, and that the kissable stranger from New Year's Eve was towering over me.
The corner of his mouth turned up in a delicious smirk. "Holy shit. It's you. Strawberry Girl."
I frowned. "Strawberry Girl?"
"Your lips tasted like strawberries when I kissed you." He reached a hand out and I grabbed it, letting him pull me up into a standing position.
"Strawberries? Oh, yeah, probably from the wapatoolie," I blathered. His eyes were still on me, but his smirk had transformed into a full-blown smile.
"Are you an artist?" He nodded his chin in the direction of my portfolio. I laughed loudly as I bent to pick it up.
"Only if you call stick figures a form of art. They're about the only thing I can draw."
"So, you haul a portfolio around for the fun of it?"
I laughed again, only this time it came out as a high-pitched cackle. "I'm in drawing right now."
"So, you are an artist then?"
I shook my head. "I'm an art history major. We need take some art classes, though. So, here I am." I noticed he had a portfolio propped against the wall as well. "Are you an artist?"
He smiled. "Something like that."
"Shit!" I looked down at my watch, which told me it was now after nine.
"What's wrong?"
"I was late when I got here—hence the whole running down the hall like a mad woman thing. I missed my first critique."
He winced, and a look of sympathy passed over his face. "Ouch. Not a good way to jumpstart a drawing career."
I stared at him for a minute before breaking out in laughter. He followed suit, and soon we were standing side-by-side, clutching our stomachs and trying to catch our breath.
"So, Strawberry Girl, do you have a name?"
I considered being coy, much like he was the first night we met, but decided straight forward was a better approach. "Bella. Bella Swan."
"A beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He stuck his hand out and I grabbed it in a shake. "I'm Edward Cullen."
"It's nice to formally meet you, Edward."
"I think I liked our previous, completely informal introduction better." He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously and I felt my face heat up.
"I better go find my professor before she thinks I jumped ship on her class." I heaved my portfolio over my shoulder and turned to book it down the hall.
"Bella?" His voice stopped me, and when I turned to face him once more, my breath caught in my throat. His eyes burned into me, intense and vivid, flashing with an emotion I'd never seen before.
"Yeah?"
"Can I see you again? Intentionally, this time."
I sucked my lip between my teeth and bit down on it to keep myself from screaming as my heart and stomach did back flips. "Sure. That sounds great." We exchanged information and settled on a day and time.
I felt like I was walking on clouds the rest of the day—even when my drawing professor told me I'd earned a big, fat "F" on my first assignment.
.
.
.
Four days later, I stood in front of the full-length mirror, an unfamiliar girl staring back at me. My hair was pulled up in a messy bun, my mahogany eyes had a thick coat of liner around them, and the navy dress Rose outfitted me in made my boobs look two sizes larger than they really were. I looked amazing, except for the blotches of red that dotted my neck and chest.
"This is ridiculous," I muttered, fanning myself with one hand. I was having a Cher Horowitz moment and I didn't like it.
"If you'd listen to me and go outside for a few minutes, it would go away," Rose huffed as she waved her lab workbook back and forth to generate cool air.
"I don't want to run into Edward looking like this!"
"It's not going to matter if you run into him outside or if he comes to the door, genius, you're going to see him either way."
"I'd rather prolong the inevitable then, thank you very much." Ten minutes later it became clear that our efforts weren't working. Rose put the workbook down and thrust a pair of heels at me.
"Get these on and get outside. And stop freaking yourself out. That's only making it worse." I rolled my eyes at my friend as I did the awkward, one-foot hop while slipping on the shoes. I grabbed my coat and purse and flung the door open, only to find a startled Edward on the other side.
"Whoa. Excited to see me, huh?"
"I, uh …"
"She was just stepping outside for some fresh air before the big date." Rose stepped around me and stuck her hand out. "Rosalie Hammond, roommate, best friend, and ass kicker of any man who breaks this one's heart."
"Edward Cullen, flannel shirt connoisseur who has no intention of breaking any hearts," he answered, shaking Rose's hand and laughing. "I like this one," he half-whispered to me.
"She's good to keep around most of the time," I stage whispered back, earning me a swat on the back of the head.
"It's nice to meet you, Edward Cullen. Try not to bring our girl home too early tonight." The door hit my ass at the same time Edward shook his head.
"She's a trip. I bet you don't have a dull moment around here." His eyes raked over my body and that sexy smirk played on his lips. "You look incredible."
"Thank you." I shifted from one foot to the other, waiting for him to make the next move.
"Please tell me you have better plans for the evening than hanging out in a dorm hallway?" Rose's voice was muffled by the door, but I could picture her on the other side, pressed against the wood while she stared shamelessly out the peephole.
"Let's get out of here," Edward muttered. He reached for my hand and slipped his fingers between mine, leading me down the hall and out into the cold night air. We came to a stop in front of an old Jeep Wrangler and Edward opened the passenger door. "Your chariot awaits."
Once we were both comfortable, Edward started the Jeep and took off toward downtown. I had no idea where we were headed, and I didn't know him well at all, but none of that mattered. I felt comfortable with him. Maybe it was because I'd spent the first ten minutes I knew him with my lips glued to his, or maybe it was his easygoing nature and the hearty sound of his laughter as it bounced off the Jeep's windows. Whatever it was, being near him just felt … right.
"We're here." He pulled the Jeep to a stop and I took in my surroundings.
"What are we doing here?" I asked.
Edward opened my door and held his hand out, helping me down onto the curb. "I have it on good authority that this is your favorite gallery in the cities." He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the door to the dark gallery.
"How did you…" my words trailed off when he flipped the lights on. The scene before me took my breath away and left my heart racing. A small table sat in the middle of the space, covered with a white linen cloth and set for two people. Beside it sat a cart, filled with Chinese takeout containers and an assortment of beer.
Edward wrung his hands together and looked down at his shoes. The tips of his ears and his cheeks were colored pink. "If I could afford to take you to a five-star restaurant I would, Bella. Unfortunately, the whole college-student-on-a-budget thing poses a challenge."
I stepped forward and closed the gap between us, laying one finger over his lips and smiling. "This is perfect."
"Really? he asked, eyes lighting up.
"Really." He relaxed then, taking my coat and pulling a chair out for me. Once we were both seated, he started opening containers and we dug in.
"How did you know this was my favorite art gallery?"
He finished chewing his moo shu pork and grinned. "Truthfully? I've seen you here practically every weekend since the start of the school year."
My brows show up to my hairline. "What?"
"Okay, hold up, because that sounded way more crazy-stalker than I intended." He set his fork down and took a swig of beer. "My cousin owns this place and the coffee shop next door. I help him out in the shop when he's short-handed, which is typically on Saturdays. And, well, I've seen you come and go a lot."
"So, you knew who I was on New Year's Eve?"
His gaze dropped down to the tabletop and a nervous laugh escaped him. "I couldn't believe my luck when I wandered into that party and the first thing I saw was you, alone and swaying to the music. You were so beautiful in that moment." His eyes turned to liquid jade and his voice lowered. "It was like you didn't give a shit who saw you or what they thought. You were in your element, doing your thing." He shook his head and the smirk I'd grown so fond of appeared. "I couldn't not touch you; couldn't not kiss you."
My heart thundered against my ribcage, beating so hard I feared it might fly right out of my chest. I kept my eyes on his, caught in his intense gaze. "Why didn't you tell me who you were then?"
Silence fell over us and just as it began to become uncomfortable, he spoke. "I'm an average Joe, Bella. I don't come from much, I don't have a lot to give, and I have a closet full of skeletons. And you, well … you're amazing."
"Edward, you don't even know me—"
"I don't have to," he continued. "It shines right through you, from the inside out. The last thing you need is for someone like me to come along and dull your sparkle."
"You won't do that," I whispered. He pushed his plate aside and propped his elbows on the table, leaning forward until his lips were just inches from mine.
"How can you be so sure?"
I swallowed hard and mustered up the courage I knew was buried somewhere inside me. "You have sparkle too. Even though you don't see it. And that means there's no way you can possibly dull mine."
A dozen different emotions muddied his eyes. I saw confusion, fear, determination, doubt, and finally, happiness. I wasn't sure what had happened to leave this beautiful man feeling so broken, but I knew that in time, he'd share.
Bit by bit, minute by minute, we spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other.
And when his lips met mine at the end of the night, I knew there was no way he could dull anything about me. Not when his every touch made me feel so alive.
