Chapter 4: The Girl with a Heart
I am such an idiot. I slammed myself on the bed, willing myself not to cry. He probably hated me at this point, and who would blame him? I was the girl who publicly had he and his sister ridiculed.
"Bells—" I heard a tentative knock on my bedroom door.
"No Cha-Dad. I just want to be alone," I said muffled. With any luck maybe, I could suffocate myself with my pillow.
"But Bells someone is outside waiting on you."
That piqued my interest. I smoothed out my plaid shirt and grabbed my jacket. Maybe it was Angela with double fudge chocolate chip ice cream. I trumped downstairs, my head hanging low and opened the front door. A blast of icy wind hit my face as my eyes focused on the bright yellow Porsche that paled in comparison to my rusted pick-up. Alice was leaning coolly against her car, a scarf tied around her head, a poised black jacket lined with what I hoped was faux fur, blue jeans that gave way to some long high heeled black boots. She gave me a bright grin as she trudged through the snow in her tall stiletto boots. I couldn't help but gawk and notice if I ever attempted that, it would result in an emergency hospital visit.
"Get in loser we're going shopping," she said dazzling me with her bright toothed smile yet again. I couldn't help but smile back at the Mean Girls quote and followed her into the Porsche.
"Wow," I breathed. The interior was all black, leather, and sleek. She revved the engine and it purred like a kitten, before backing out of our driveway. I turned to look at her. "If you have this why do you take Edward's car?"
She kept her eyes fixated on the road and answered, "We like to keep a low profile. It would draw in too much attention…" she trailed off and then added, "attention we already have too much of it seems."
"Alice I'm so sorry—" I started.
She glanced at me briefly. "Bella it's okay. Those vile, filthy words that were said today didn't come from your mouth. You are only responsible for your own actions."
"And besides—"
"EEK!" I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of an all too familiar voice. Angela poked her head through both front seats grinning at me. I ran a hand through my head nervously. "Jesus Ang you scared the crap out of me!"
She patted my cheek. "Sorry Bella, but as I was saying, Alice is right. You didn't say those mean things, Bella. Taking responsibility for someone else's selfish actions is not a reflection of who you are as a person."
I pondered what she said and glanced briefly at Alice. Her hazelnut eyes were focused on the road, a tiny smile creeping up towards the corner of her cherry colored lips. She must have felt my gaze on her because she turned to me quickly and winked before saying, "It's not a big deal anyway. Lauren got what she deserved." She smiled wickedly causing all three of us to giggle uncontrollably remembering the incident. Looking back, it was rather funny to see Lauren hosed down with soda. The way she shrieked like a banshee spawned a whole new wave of giggles.
I listened in silence to Angela and Alice making ice-breaking conversation, giving my two cents every now and again, but as I leaned my head against the window pane and stared at the fluttering snowflakes, my mind drifted back to Edward Cullen. My heart beat suddenly in my chest and I swiftly looked at the two girls, who were comparing designers, wondering if they could hear it pounding quickly inside my chest.
"What do you think, Bella?" asked Alice as she looked rapidly at me before turning her attention back to the icy road before us.
"Uh," I swallowed. "Sorry," I mumbled, "what were you guys talking about again?"
Angela snaked her head through the middle of the seats and rolled her eyes. "Bella are you even paying attention?"
"Ah…no sorry. I was just thinking about something," I grunted out an apology and mentally kicked myself for letting Edward Cullen consume my thoughts yet again. This had become a reoccurring theme, and quite the nuisance. "What did you guys say?"
"I think the better question is," Alice started in a bell toned voice, "what was it you were thinking about?"
"Or rather who she was thinking about," Angela piped up from the back seat of the car.
I felt the heat instantly rise to my cheeks, my face aflame with my own embarrassment. I tucked a strand of brown hair behind my ears before shushing her.
"Hmm," Alice pondered, "so our dear Bella has a crush on a certain someone."
"It's not a crush!" I objected. Even to my own ears I could hear the defiance and defensiveness rise well up in my voice and burst out like a thought bubble on a comic book page. Easy to read as an open book. My mother always said it too. My face betrayed me as I tucked my body inward closer to the door. Maybe if I was unlucky, which I often was, the door would open by itself and splatter me against the road. It would be an easier choice than admitting what I now knew to be true. I had developed feelings for Edward Cullen.
"Hmm," Alice said again. Her warm brown eyes were lit with amusement. "Can't be Mike, he's much too much of an ass for you. Perhaps Eric?"
"Not even close," Angela tittered. I groaned inwardly.
"Perhaps Tyler then?" I looked at her face in earnest. She chewed on her bottom lip hesitantly.
I smiled. "No, I don't like Tyler, but I know someone who might."
"Yeah," Angela said cluelessly, "Lauren is practically all over him."
"I did notice that earlier," Alice said quickly changing the subject. "She does seem to be quite infatuated with him. Maybe that's the reason she's so nasty to you, Bella."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well," Alice began, "Tyler does seem rather…fond of you, I suppose." Her voice had a hard edge to it. I felt Angela shift in the back seat and caught her gaze in the overhead mirror. She pushed up the rim of her glasses, and her lips tilted into a small smile.
"Oh no," Angela reassured her, "Trust me. Tyler so doesn't like Bella. Besides that's not who Bella has a crush on."
"Shush!" I reached back and flicked her forehead to which she yelped.
"Let's see," Alice debated, "If it's not Eric, Mike, Tyler, and Ben is taken…." She trailed off thoughtfully. "Does he go to our school?"
"Yep," Angela answered enthusiastically.
"Do I know him?"
"Oh, you know him very well," Angela teased.
"Ang!" I warned, my voice shooting an octave below.
Alice jerked the car to the right suddenly pulling into a narrow parking space. "Oh well," she said daintily, placing the car into a parking position. "Guess we'll never know."
"It's—" Angela started.
"Angela look!" Alice pointed at a nearby store window. "They have the Celeste clutch!" Angela's head snapped quickly to the right side of the window her hands pressing against the glass before finding her way to the door handle and eagerly pushing herself through the door.
"By Jimmy Choo? Oh my gosh!" she squealed delightedly, jumping up and down. You could have sworn she was a kid in a candy store. "They even have the matching Romy pumps!" Her hands clapped together, and I looked toward the ceiling of the Porsche and thanked the heavens for the much-needed distraction. I took in a deep breath and placed my hand on the doorknob opening the door taking in the crisp cool air of Washington. "Hurry up, Bella," Angela tapped her waiting foot impatiently. I groaned inwardly for what seemed like the umpteenth time today. I hated shopping. I trudged along side them and took a small glance at Alice. She caught my gaze and winked. While Angela walked two feet up ahead, she placed her fingers to her lips and mouthed, "You're welcome."
Who knew Angela and Alice could shop for hours. Apparently, I should have known. They made their way racing through store after store, shopping bags covering both arms while I had a teeny tiny bag with a Native American charm bracelet that I scrounged from a quaint little shop in the outlet. They moved almost rhythmically with each other, tossing the other dresses, scarves, and jewelry. I sat in a corner of the store watching as they compared earring studs and perfume near the counter. Alice moved with a commanding presence seeming completely at ease in the mall compared to how she was at our lunch table prior. This was her element, her safe haven. She strutted away from the counter top instead searching on a nearby clothing rack and pulled something shimmery and glittery off of it before tucking it under her arm and placing it on the counter. The cashier, who seemed completely bored with her job, smacked her gum as she rung her up. I didn't see the total charge, but I heard Angela whistle lowly as Alice swiped her little piece of plastic through the machine. The cashier handed her a receipt and she walked over to me.
"I'm sorry," she said sitting beside me, "I know this isn't as fun for you as it is for me and Angela," she took a moment to glance back at Angela ushering her to finish up her shopping before turning back to me.
"Oh, it's fine," I smiled brightly at her. She was refreshing in my eyes. A true friend, the complete and utter opposite of Jessica who constantly put me down and made snarky little remarks towards me.
"How about we head back to my place?" Alice suggested right as Angela grabbed her bags from the cashier. "I can make us carbonara!"
"Your place?" Angela hesitated. "Will your parents be okay with that?"
Alice's face faltered for a split second before smiling brightly at Angela. In that split second, Edward's words echoed back at me. Everyone wears a mask. In that split second, I saw hers slip briefly before being replaced with the happy, bubbly personality she showed the world. For a moment she looked wiser beyond her years. She seemed older, lines of worry and pain etched in the curve of her cheekbones. Her caramel colored eyes seemed tired and weary, reflecting something deeper than any of us knew. It made me wonder. What lay beneath the surface of Alice Cullen.
"My Dad will be fine. He's out at work anyway," she said softly as she took inkling steps toward the door. We followed suit both trailing behind her. She seemed distant, walking ahead of us, not displaying the eagerness that Angela had before while running towards the shops. Her steps were tentative yet strong. Careful as she walked elegantly across the ice slick road. All three of us got into her car, the heat of the heater warming our frozen fingertips.
"What about your Mom?" Angela asked the question I was too afraid to. I silently applauded her for her bravery.
Alice took off before answering, her gloved hands gripping the wheel tightly. Her face left a bittersweet expression as she answered, "She died a long time ago."
"Oh…" Angela trailed off. I heard her swallow audibly from the backseat as she shifted around. "I'm so sorry. I didn't—"
"It's fine," Alice interrupted. "It was right after I was born. I don't even remember her." She spoke calmly. Her eyebrows knitted together almost as if she was trying to piece together an unsolvable puzzle. "It's strange," she said suddenly as if she were talking to herself alone in her thoughts, "I see pictures of her around the house, but she's a complete stranger to me."
Neither of us said a word as the trip ensued. The iciness of the conversation before left us all frozen inside. Soft music hummed in the background as we rode on in stiff and awkward silence. Often, I'd hear the rustle of a bag and assumed Angela was examining her items that she bought. I watched Alice in my peripheral vision. Her mask had cracked a little. No longer was she the sparkling bubble gum princess that twirled in circles and threw snowballs. She was much more.
The ride continued until we pulled through the forest on a winding path that she knew just as well as Edward knew the forest. A house came into view, all white and inviting with open glass displaying the bottom portion. The yard was covered in fresh snow along with the cobbled driveway. She pulled up slowly heading into a dark garage where a familiar Volvo sat parked. She parked the car before popping on her bright persona and fishing into a Louis Vuitton crossbody purse for a bright cherry lipstick tube. She pressed it against her lips, refreshing them and smacked her now plump and kissable lips at us.
"Welcome to Casa de Cullen," she winked while gesturing to the grand house that lay before us. I got out of the car following behind Alice, like a lost kitten. She stepped up the steps to a door in the garage pressing her perfectly manicured fingertips against a keypad. Both Angela and I heard a whir and the combination lock clicked as she opened the door stepping into the heated home. Her heels tip tapped delicately as she led us through a small, dark hallway before finally entering upon a lighted living room. I took in a breath at the scene around me. A crème colored rug sat above the marble floor, below an ivory painted table. The couch was heather gray wrapping around the living room, big enough to seat at least twenty people comfortably. Fresh orchids and roses were in pots amongst the room giving it an open and floral scent. Paintings littered the walls, some I recognized as I stared into the warped spirals of Vincent Van Gogh's, A Starry Night.
"Holy crap!" Angela exclaimed. Her head snapped in different directions taking in the room. "You're rich! Like rich rich!"
Alice rolled her eyes playfully. "Money isn't everything," she said humbly. She signaled to the couch and we took a seat, sinking into the soft plush. I wanted to melt in the cushions and drown in them forever.
"I'll bring you ladies some refreshments," Alice called, her voice fading into the distance. I heard her heels click clack against the marble as she left into what I assumed was the kitchen.
Angela gripped my arm. "This place is heaven," she sighed blissfully. As she sank back into the sofa, the soft dainty sounds of piano keys reverberated against the walls.
"What's that?" I asked Alice as she placed a tray in front of us, reappearing seemingly out of nowhere.
She rolled her eyes again, seeming somewhat miffed. "That's Edward. It seems he's chosen this time to play his piano while I'm entertaining guests. I can tell him to keep it down if it's bothering you."
"No," I said quickly. "No no. It's beautiful."
I heard the rise and fall of keys as they danced and teased my eardrums. The sounds of melodic tunes played elegantly. I took a lemonade off the tray and sipped it lightly from the yellow straw. Angela it seemed was enjoying herself to no end as she reclined her seat and was animatedly tapping buttons against the armrest.
"It's a massager too!" she chirped wildly her fingers flicking at the buttons. Behind her thick rimmed glasses, her dark eyes sparkled with wonder and amazement.
Alice blushed prettily, and a smile lit up her face. "Okay," she said clasping her hands together. "I'll go make food. You guys can explore if you'd like. Just mind you the third floor is Edward's." She looked to me as she said this and then continued on, "Oh and that room down the hallway," she pointed back down the dark hallway that we had entered through from the garage earlier, "on the left is off limits. Dad's office," she shrugged her small shoulders, "can't violate any HIPPA laws," she giggled. With that she spun on her heel and disappeared, a picturesque apparition vanishing into the void.
"I think I'm gonna stay right heeeeerrreeeee," Angela's voice vibrated and hummed as she turned up the volume on the massaging recliner part of the couch. Her eyes rolled back into her head in complete bliss.
I stood up and brushed myself off before heading up the stairs. A vase made up of crystalline fractals greeted me on the second floor. The soft carpet gave no way to my clumsiness as I stomped down the hallway. A bathroom here, a spare room there, and finally what I presumed was Alice's room. It was neat in shades of pale yellows and soft cremes like the rest of the house. A framed portrait of Marilyn Monroe sat upon her wall. I turned to the oak dresser, another portrait capturing my interest. Next to a jewelry box, in which a baby pink ballerina danced, was a woman.
Her hair was medium length just stopping short of her breasts and the color of chocolate. It looked smooth as silk. My fingers traced the edge of the onyx frame tenderly. The woman didn't smile. Her dark eyes were flat and dull, her lips tight. My mind wondered. Did she not like having her picture taken? If so, I could understand that as I avoided Eric my first week at Forks. I picked up the framed photo and stared closer. It was more than that. She was beautiful, gracious even while exploiting her negative emotions within the picture. She looked dead inside.
"You're awfully nosy."
I jumped, the frame falling into long, white, pale fingers. I watched the hands place the frame back up against the dresser. I turned and gasped. The face of an angel glared back at me, topaz eyes burning in every inch of my being. I reached out to the dresser leaning against it to steady myself. We were wrong. We were all wrong. It wasn't herpes, nor was it disfigurement, as if this beautiful creature could be anything shy of perfection. The light through the window captured his copper colored curls and shined like a halo against his angelic head. His impeccably straightened nose continued to full lips that parted ever so slightly. His jaw, cut from granite, or perhaps something stronger like diamond, was chiseled from God himself. My breath hitched, my eyes slightly dilating as I took in every glorious inch of him.
"I-I-I-I" I stuttered, seeming at a loss for words as he moved with long strides towards the door. My brain screamed at me not to let this magnificent being from my grasp, and I made chase as he fluidly coiled up the stairs to the third floor. He stopped right before a door, us both staring at each other in the dim lit hallway. "I don't understand," I said finally, the words rushing out of me along with the breath I had been holding.
His eyes tightened. "No, you wouldn't," he said cryptically. He opened the door and I followed him inside a near empty room save for a small white leather couch, a white grand piano, and a white bench. He seated himself upon the bench his fingers flowing over the keys metrically in beat. I gauged him cautiously before slowly seating myself on the bench beside him. If he was bothered by my presence, he gave no indication of it as he continued on in a melancholy tune.
"Why?" I asked. We both knew what I was referring to.
His fingers lightly tapped against the keys the melody getting softer now. "You don't understand."
My fingers found his, a bold move even for me. His hands were ice cold as if he'd just been in the frosted air that billowed around the house. I let the warmth from my fingers seep into his, and said, "Then help me understand."
He looked at me in earnest. I searched his face which gave away nothing. Probing for any sign that would give me a clue as to who this mystery of a man was. "No," he said flatly and dropped my hand. My heart sunk. A hollow feeling boring into my chest. He looked on ahead staring at the blank walls that exposed nothing, much like himself. "Please," he begged. His expression seemed pained. He finally looked back at me and in his eyes I saw that the mask had slipped. Agony etched in every single feature. My arms ached. I wanted to reach out and comfort him. He bit down on his lip and finally he spoke once more, "I can take everyone's rejection," he stated monotonously, "except for yours."
"And why would you think I would reject you?"
He gave a rueful laugh before his fingers trailed back towards the piano keys, an angry and thwarting sound rising up from the strings. "If you knew…." He stopped and took a deep breath exhaling his anger into his music, "if you knew the things I've done, you'd think me a monster."
"A monster?" I repeated. That was the furthest thought from my mind. There was no way this exquisite human could ever be a monster. I pressed further. "Who was the woman in the picture?"
His hands stopped once more. "She was my mother," he said to no one in particular as he stared down at his hands. He confirmed what I already suspected to be true.
I sniffed. "I see. Alice told us she died a long time ago."
He gave another spiteful laugh. The corners of his lips tilted up into a smile, but it didn't touch his eyes. "Is that what she told you?"
Confusion clouded my mind. "What?" I questioned. My voice held palpable shock.
He turned his body towards me. I once again was greeted with the loveliness of his face, the beauty that lay beneath the mask. "She didn't die, Bella. She killed herself."
A/N: Dun dun dun! Hi guys I'm back, semi. Sorry for the incredibly long long long overly awaited chapter. Major clues have been thrown throughout this chapter. You can also thank my loving little Linh for inspiring me to write this and write more for you guys. A major bomb was dropped! *gasp* What are your theories now? Leave it in a review (:
Love Bebe
