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Friday December 9, 2005
"Why are you early?" I asked timidly as I rushed after James. A half-hour ago, I had been praying for my driving lesson to begin, but now I was just confused and embarrassed.
"I have to be somewhere by eight," he answered without a backwards glance.
"What? I thought you were going to let me drive the Eclipse?" Disappoint leaked into my voice, but James didn't seem to notice or care.
"I am." He threw me the keys, which fell to the ground after my clumsy attempt at catching them. I quickly scooped them up and jogged over to the driver's side, hoping that James hadn't seen my klutzy moment.
"Where do you have to be?" I asked once I was safely buckled in.
"Why do you care?" Was James upset with me? Were my singing abilities so atrocious that they had scared him away?
"Because I care about you and I want to make sure everything is alright. You seem upset today." I hoped that my reply wouldn't be construed as prying.
"I just have a lot of things on my mind," James snapped.
"You know that you can tell me anything, right?" For the past month or so, my attempts at forming a meaningful relationship with James had failed miserably. He would never open up to me, and in return, I could never open up to him. It seemed that there was something between us—he would be so patient and helpful when he was teaching me how to drive—but our connection never seemed to last outside of our lessons. I wanted so badly to be part of his life, but he wouldn't let me in.
"If you must know, there's a drag tonight and I have a lot banking on this race. I don't need your shit right now."
"I'm sorry. I'm sure you'll win," I encouraged.
"Thanks, now can we get a move on?" His tones had softened, which caused my lip to twitch up into a grin. This was a small step forward.
"Yup. Where do you want me to go?" James input an address into the GPS that was attached to the dash.
"Follow these directions." I didn't bother to respond. Instead, I stepped on the clutch and shifted into first.
"Don't get us arrested, Swan. I'm not losing my license because I let your under-aged ass drive my car," he warned. I wasn't sure if he was serious or just joking around. It was a reoccurring theme with James.
"Don't worry." I slowed to a crawl, now paranoid about getting pulled over.
"Jesus, Swan, speed up. This isn't a fucking joke. Shift into third," he ordered. I hit the clutch, doubled shifted and pressed my foot firmly on the gas pedal. The car went shooting forward, pushing me back against my seat.
"Pass these cars," James told me.
The speedometer was steadily rising…80…85…88. I sharply cut the wheel, not so gently yanking both of us to the left. James let out a grunt as his knees smashed into the console. I bit my lip, nervously. Shit, this car sure could move. I pulled back into the right lane, this time exhibiting far more control and hardly jostling our bodies.
"Punch it!" James called over the roar of the engine.
"What? I thought you said that I should be careful!" My reminder was laced with bewilderment.
"The radar is clear. Punch it!" he screeched. Though I had no idea what he meant by 'radar,' I slammed on the gas, deftly tugged the stick shift into fourth gear, and went rocketing down the stretch of highway.
91…95…97…102…down shift into third, narrowly snake between two honking cars…84…89…accelerate…94…96.
The speed was exhilarating, far better than driving the Ford Escort or even sitting in the passenger's seat as James dazzled me with his adept driving skills.
I felt as if I was racing against time, beating the clock as I darted in between multiple lanes of traffic. It was as though this was my calling. When I was behind the wheel, I was no longer Bella: the girl who couldn't walk down the street without tripping over her own feet. No, that girl disappeared. I became Bella: the girl with a sixth sense for velocity.
My hand automatically reached for the stick shift, my foot following the natural course to the clutch. With one jolting motion, I double shifted into second gear as the streetlight switched from yellow to red.
99…92…87…84…still much to fast…the intersection was readily approaching. With a quick sideward glance, I surveyed the oncoming traffic. I can make it, I told myself.
This was probably not going to end well, but it was the only plan I had. My eyes narrowed in determination as my hands toyed with the gears and my foot forced the gas pedal further into the floor.
"SWAN! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!?!" James' bawl was hardly audible over the roaring engine, which made it easier to ignore.
If this was timed correctly, there was a fifty percent chance of success. If not…then we were unquestionably going to die.
I nudged the staring wheel a fraction of an inch to the right, pulling us into the breakdown lane. The stopped cars whizzed by in a blur as I hit the intersection doing 102. Now, it was do or die.
Without hesitation, I yanked the shifter into first gear, throwing all of my body weight onto the clutch, and wrenched up on the emergency break in rapid succession. It was, without a doubt, the stupidest act of my life. The car went skidding horizontally through the busy intersection, narrowly sliding past oncoming traffic. I winced as a Camry came within centimeters of colliding into the front end of our out of control car.
But somehow we reached the other side of the street in one piece…without so much as a dent!!! Purely dumb luck! Not wanting to stick around for the cops to show up, I shoved the 'E-brake' down, and resumed my trek down the highway.
James let out a robust laugh, something that I had never heard from him before. "Woo-hoo! Fuck, Bella! That was insane!!!" I smiled at his praise. "But don't you ever—EVER—do that again in MY car!!! This isn't Tokyo fucking Drift!" I nodded in assent, the smile staying plastered to my face. James was impressed by me. Hell, I was impressed by me! There was no fucking way I would ever be able to pull something like that off again! James chuckled under his breath, every so often muttering, "Shit, Swan," softly to himself. My grin widened involuntarily.
The robotic female voice commanded me to veer right at a neglected side street which I followed until I reached a parking garage. Cars—expensive, fast looking cars—were streaming down a ramp, honking and expelling loud rap music as they filed into the underground garage.
"Where are we?" I asked as I slowed to mirror the flow of traffic.
"Volterra, baby! This is where it's at!" He whooped exuberantly, leaning across the console to press his lips against mine. "Get ready for a real race, Swan!"
An excited hoot poured from my mouth in anticipation.
Monday September 15, 2008
With fifteen minutes remaining in the lunch hour, I snuck away from my table, unable to bear the tedium of the catty teens. If there had been a bus rolling down the corridor, I would've willingly jumped in front of it before returning to the cafeteria and listening to the gripping tale of Jessica's one night stand with some kid who probably didn't exist. How was I ever going to survive Forks High when I was already searching for a place to hang myself?
As my next class was Music Theory, I opted to spend the remainder of lunch in the music room. Perhaps there would be an extra guitar that I could practice on. That always used to calm me down—well, before I stopped playing, that is. At the very least, I could warm up so as not to embarrass myself with the atrocious caliber of my rusty musical skills. It had been years since my hands had strummed a guitar.
It wasn't difficult to find the music room. It was directly across from the auditorium and decorated with murals of half notes and G-clefs. Tacky, to say the least.
I hurriedly pulled open the door, searching for shelter from the torrent of rain that was leaking from the dark, rolling clouds. The music that assaulted my ears upon entering the warm building was the last thing I expected to find.
Edward Cullen sat at the baby grand piano in the corner of the room, his back facing me. My mouth dropped open in amazement as his thin, graceful fingers scurried across the keys, producing a melancholy melody that I'd never heard before. Suddenly, my mediocre musical talents felt like the meddling of a toddler compared to the Mozart-like god that sat a few feet away, with impeccable posture that I could never achieve.
I debated on whether or not to make my presence know, sneak out and return to lunch, or just continue to listen to Edward play. Only one of those choices stood out to me—there was no way in hell that I was returning to lunch, and lurking in the shadows seemed wicked creepy, so introducing myself became my only option. Would it be rude if I interrupted his flow? Or weird if I waited until he was finished and clapped? Urg, this was a bit more complicated than I would have expected.
"So are you going to just stand there or grab a seat," Edward asked over the flawless musical composition. I exhaled and smiled to myself as I walked towards the piano.
"How did you know that I was here?" I asked, thankful that he had been the one to initiate the conversation.
"I heard the door open. I actually thought you were my sister, Alice," he answered, pulling away from the keys and turning his attentions to me.
I felt like a complete idiot. Obviously he didn't know it was me. We hadn't even met yet. "Oh, I'm sorry. I just couldn't take lunch anymore so I escaped and came here instead," I explained in a rush, hoping that I didn't sound too much like a weirdo.
Edward flashed me a sparkling smile and ran his fingers through his thick mane of bronze hair. "No problem. I had the same issue. I'm Edward Cullen, by the way."
"Bella Swan," I said as he collected my small hand between both of his.
"It's nice to meet the girl who completely trashed Rosalie Hale. It's a hard feat to manage, but you successfully had her heated for an entire forty-five minutes. Of course, I had to listen to her bitching and moaning..."
"Sorry about that, but she had it coming." Edward chuckled, his brilliant green eyes sparkling with amusement.
"True."
I figured that it was probably in my best interest to change the subject before Edward had a sudden change of heart and decided that I was more trouble than I was worth. Miraculously, he was actually being friendly to me which was more than I had expected.
"That was a beautiful song. Who's it by?" I asked, letting my bag slide from my shoulder to the floor.
"I wrote it for my mother last year. She's the reason why I started playing the piano," he told me.
"You wrote that! That's impressive! I thought it was by some Russian musician with an unpronounceable name!" I exclaimed. Apparently the hype about Edward was completely true. He was a musical genius!
Edward shook off my compliment as if it was undeserved and diverted his eyes to the ugly brown carpet. "No, seriously. I'm impressed," I told him.
"Thanks, but you're not obligated to compliment the loser who locks himself away in the music room practicing his piano skills. I swear I won't kidnap you and force you to sing opera if you don't."
"I'm not sure whether or not I should applaud your Phantom of the Opera reference or be creeped out by the fact that you've actually seen that play," I laughed. Edward smirked and shook his head in resignation.
"Wow, I set myself up for that one. Blame it on Alice. She's a huge Broadway fan. I've been dragged to my fair share of musicals. Hairspray is a personal favorite of mine and Legally Blonde was pretty awesome," he joked.
"Best not mention that to anybody," I managed to squeak out in between giggles.
"It doesn't really matter. I should warn you that I'm pretty much the black sheep of this school, Bella. You might not want to be seen talking to me." I waved my hand as if brushing off his warning. From what I gleaned from the conversation at my lunch table, every girl wanted to be with Edward and every guy was completely jealous of him. And I definitely want Edward, too.
"If you haven't noticed, I tend to rub people the wrong way. Hence, the bruises and broken body parts…"
"And pissing off Rosalie your first day at Forks High," he added. "So what exactly happened to you?"
I bit my lip hesitantly. This was exactly what I had been hoping to avoid. Edward was easy to talk to, but I didn't want him judging me by my past mistakes. He noticed my reluctance and quickly corrected his question. "Oh, I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that. That's your business. I hate it when people pry into my past, too."
I quirked my eyebrow in confusion. Edward seemed to be living in a sphere of teenage perfection, what could possibly be amiss in his past? He noticed my bewilderment and elaborated. "My parents died when I was seven years old."
"Oh, my God. I'm sorry. You didn't have to tell me that." I hadn't expected that twist. It didn't seem to mesh with all the other information that I had compiled about Edward. Flustered, I looked away and fidgeted with my fingers.
"It's okay. You would've found out eventually anyway. Forks is a small town and people love to gossip," he told me.
I nodded, already privy to that knowledge. "Not to be rude, but you said you wrote that song for your mother last year. Am I missing something?" I knew that I was missing information and this lack of facts was causing some serious confusion on my part.
Edward chortled at my statement. "After my parents died, I moved in with my Aunt Esme and Uncle Carlisle. I wasn't born a Cullen, but I was lucky enough to be taken in by such amazing relatives. They adopted me when I was ten and have become my second set of parents. Alice and Emmett treat me like their brother, so I like to pretend that I really am," he explained, a sad frown marring his perfect visage.
"I'm sure that Alice and Emmett consider you their brother regardless. You don't have to pretend," was my awkward reply. Edward nodded.
"Do you have any siblings?" he asked with false cheerfulness.
"Nope, it's just me. My mother had me when she was barely eighteen and divorced my father before I was out of diapers. She just remarried a year ago, but she has no intentions of having another kid. I think I might be the reason for that reluctance. I'm not exactly the perfect child." I figured that I should offer a few personal tidbits seeing as though Edward had just divulged a rather emotional piece of information to me.
Apparently, I had said something hilarious, as Edward began shaking with laughter. Truly laughing, not the nervous chuckles that had previously spewed from his perfectly formed lips. "I'm sorry, but you seem pretty clean cut to me, Bella."
"Really? I look like I just got jumped by the Crypts and you think I'm clean cut?" The amusement in my voice was evident and Edward didn't bother to apologize for his generalization.
"No, I'm not talking about your appearance. I mean, you obviously stand up for yourself and don't let people push you around, but there's nothing wrong with that. Actually, that's a really useful trait to have. You just don't seem like a person who would be involved in anything illegal," he clarified.
"Well, you'd be wrong." His eyes widened at my statement.
"Drug dealer?"
"Nope."
"Mass murder?"
I let out an exuberant chuckle. "Wrong again."
"You're not gonna tell me are you?" he asked. He was obviously curious, but unlike my other classmates, would not be one to push the subjects.
"Nope," I answered and he dramatically hung his head in defeat.
"Not even a little hint?" I shook my head. "Fine, fine. I'll let you skip that question, but you owe me some more info."
"Like what?" I played along.
He stroked his chin in mock contemplation. "Like why you chose to escape to the music room."
"That's an easy one. I have Music Theory next period."
"Uh-uh. You're not getting off that easy, Bella. What instrument do you play?" he prompted.
"Err… I used to play the guitar." He raised an eyebrow that disappeared into his soft curls.
"Used to?"
"I haven't played since I was fourteen. I just didn't have the time or patience." Normally, I wouldn't disclose this much information to a stranger, regardless of its harmless nature, but Edward had a way of making me feel comfortable.
"No time for the guitar? That's blasphemy!" he exclaimed as he unclamped his case and held his guitar out to me. "You better start playing before I punch you out for your sacrilegious words!"
"Wow, I'm so scared!" I joked playfully. Uncertainly, I took the instrument from his hands and rested it under the crook of my arm. "What should I play?"
"Are you seriously asking me that? A true musician plays whatever they're feeling at the moment. I'm curious to see what Bella Swan is thinking." A wicked grin illuminated his face.
"I'm not Beethoven, Edward. Don't expect much," I warned him as I began to play a piece that I had written years before. It paled in comparison to Edward's otherworldly composition, but he didn't seem to mind. Instead of telling me that I sucked and demanding his guitar back, he closed his eyes and bobbed his head to the beat before turning to the piano and running his fingers across the keys in harmony with my song. The result was a surprisingly good melody that hardly resembled my original piece of music.
Our private concert was cut short when lunch ended and the rest of the students filled into the classroom. Edward turned to me and whisper, "You should play more often, Bella. You don't suck as bad as you think." His tone was joking and I couldn't help but smile.
"You're not so terrible yourself," I flirted. It was a vast understatement, but a grin spread across his face that match the one I was currently wearing.
I held his guitar out to him, but he pushed it back towards me. "You'll need it. Forks High can't afford to supply instruments for the music department."
"Wow, that's just like my old high school. Our music building was called the Welfare Wing," I told him.
"Well, practically every part of this school fits that description. The science department, the athletic organizations… Actually, come to think of it, all of Forks pretty much sucks," he said. I laughed along with him, reveling in the ease of our conversation making. He was not an asshole, after all. Apparently that title was reserved just for James.
The teacher called the class to order and made me introduce myself to the class like a six year old. I went through the whole "Hi, my name is Bella Swan…" spiel and all the while Edward shook with uncontrollable, silent laughter. I smirked to myself and threw him a nasty glare, which only made him cover his mouth with his hand.
Within the span of fifteen minutes, Forks had become exponentially more tolerable, and I had Edward Cullen to thank for that.
A/N: So, what do you think? I'm wicked interested to see what you have to say about this chappie especially the second part of it. What do you think of James vs. Edward? Review and let me know!! I get depressed if I don't get reviews so, not to guilt you into leaving me a bunch of them or anything...but DO IT!! Thanks!
