THESE OUTTAKES WILL NOT BE IN ORDER OF SEQUENCE. It's whatever comes to me at the time.
To my Readers.... thank you for everything. ILY.


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Outtake 4: Two Birds
Bella's response to Edward's voice message.

EDWARD IS FEATURED IN THIS ONE AS WELL.

---- NO BETA THIS CHAPTER; PLEASE EXCUSE ANY/ALL ERRORS. ---
-- A/N's At The Bottom. --

Disclaimer: I own nothing that is Twilight or Stephenie Meyer related.

"I was sitting on my doorstep, I hung up the phone and it fell out of my hand,
But I knew I had to do it, and he wouldn't understand.
So hard to see myself without him, I felt a piece of my heart break.
But when you're standing at a crossroad, there's a choice you gotta make.
I guess it's gonna have to hurt, I guess I'm gonna have to cry..."

Carrie Underwood, "Starts With Goodbye"

Outtake 4: Two Birds

BellaPOV

I laughed and hopped on his back, "Go!"

"I'm trying!"

"GO!"

"Bella," he laughed, hitting the wall with his right shoulder, "I cannot just go. I'm not a horse. Do you hear me neighing?"

"Tyler!" I pushed myself higher on his back, "We must make it to the living room before Rosalie does, or we're going to be stuck watching boring car shows all night!"

"You shouldn't have given me so much wine then," he replied, leaning over a bit, "you're fucking heavy tonight."

"I ammmmm not," I slurred, shaking my head. "I... am as light... as a feather. Fucker."

"Yeah," he gripped me and began to move us down the wall, "if that fucking feather weighs a ton."

I smacked him on the back of his head, and he toppled forward, knocking me over him. We both crashed onto the carpet, laughing.

"You guys!" Rosalie shouted from the kitchen. "Don't knock over that vase on that table! Gramma gave that to us!"

I looked up, blowing the hair out of my face. "Don't worry Rose. It's two feet away. It's ssssafe."

Rosalie huffed, slamming things around in the kitchen, muttering beneath her breath.

"Hello!" the front door swung open.

"JAKE!" I shouted, crawling toward him, "You made it!"

Jacob laughed and bent down, helping me to my feet, "Isabella Marie Swan, it's barely eight o'clock, and you are plastered, once again. Always a pleasure to see your glossy eyes."

"Correction," I slurred, standing on my tip-toes to pat his black, spiky hair, "it is five o'clock sssomewhere."

He picked me up and threw me over his right shoulder, and slapped my ass, holding me up with one arm. As he walked, he playfully kicked my boyfriend in the shoulder, who was still laying in the middle of the hallway, "Tyler."

"Jake." Tyler waved, other hand rubbing his stomach.

Jake jogged into the kitchen, making extra effort to pretend to toss and slam me into every wall on the way there, like a wrestler. By the time we made it in there, I was laughing so hard, I was almost pissing my pants.

"Rosalie," Jake sat me on the counter, "special delivery."

"Awe, what I always wanted," Rosalie cooed. "A drunken sister."

"Seasoned," he replied. "She's seasoned."

"She's over-seasoned."

I glared at her, attempting to peel an orange. It wouldn't hold still. Damn orange.

Nothing was working for me tonight.

I growled to myself, trying not to spoil the fun. This was the first time in two weeks that I was trying to make an attempt to be cheerful. As long as I stayed intoxicated, I hoped it'd be convincing.

"Tyler!" I shouted, "get your ass off the ground."

I listened as he growled and pulled himself up, followed by something bumping the wall, and then something crashing to the ground, breaking.

"Shit."

"Tyler Randall!" Rosalie sneered, storming toward him, "that better not be our grandmother's vase!"

"Uhh... I didn't... uh... mean to."

Whack. She smacked him with the spatula.

"Shit Rose, I'll get you another!"

"You can't, you idiot! She made it."

Another whack.

"Dammit, Rose, quit! That's metal, it stings. Jake! Get this bitch off of me!"

"Oh, not smart," I mumbled, while she continued to beat him with it, "don't call her a bitch. You'll have so many bruises, people will think you were born with purple skin."

"I'm not helping," Jake said. "You're on your own. She's done and attacked me with shit like that, when I fucking burned a tiny, millimeter-sized hole into her couch on accident with my cigarette."

"I still haven't forgiven you for that," Rosalie hissed as she stormed back into the kitchen, stiring whatever it wast hat she was cooking.

"Rose," Jake chuckled, scratching his head before he stuck a newsboy cap on it, "we're friends. It's impossible for you to stay mad at me."

"I'm not mad still, I just haven't forgiven you for burning a hole into my couch."

"It's barely noticeable. And I patched it up."

"Not forgiven."

"Whatever," he slapped her ass, heading back toward me, "your loss. I give good make-up hugs."

"I'll never give you the satisfaction."

"One day you will."

I grabbed Jake and played with his hat, readjusting it, "I like your hat, Jakey-poo. Where did you gettit?"

He laughed, messing up my hair, "a store."

"You have good fashion sense," I said, still trying to peel the orange. "I wonder sometimes if you're gay."

"Fuck you," he spat, walking away from me.

"Awe, Jake, I'm sssorry, did I hit a soft spot?"

"Suck my dick, Bella."

"Okay, but I'll have to ask the last guy who did it for instructions on how to find the tiny thing. Maybe he can lend me a magnifying glass."

Jake started to walk toward me and smart off, but my sister slid between us, and pushed him back, "she's drunk, ignore her."

"Tyler come get your girlfriend before I slap her."

Tyler laughed and stood behind me, rubbing my back, "I ain't helping you. Two can play that game, Black."

"Then don't cry when I put her out."

"You ain't putting me outtt," I hissed. "Puh-lease, Jake."

"Puh-lease Bella," he mocked me. "one flick of my finger, and you'd be bird shit."

"All right!" Rosalie shouted. "Separate corners, or get along. No fighting in the kitchen."

"See now you got us in trouble," he said, walking toward the remote.

"You started it," I mumbled back.

"Bella," Tyler's voice was at my left ear, and he kissed it before he finished his sentence, "what are you doing to that orange?"

"Tryin' to eat it."

"Give it to me before you break a finger."

I sighed and gave him the fruit, and watched him peel it quicker than I could break the skin. He handed it back to me with a smirk.

"Loser," I replied, stealing it away from him and nudging his side.

*&*#!#$^%$^


I barely paid any attention to the movie. I couldn't even say what it was titled.

I spent most of the time playing with the fringe on the sleeve of Tyler's sweatshirt he loaned me, and consuming margaritas on the rocks.

Tyler was laying behind me, nuzzling his mess of blonde hair against my neck. He was too busy trying to feel me up beneath the covers to pay attention. Jake sat in our leather recliner, munching on popcorn, while Rosalie took up the love-seat beside him, filing her nails and watching at the same time.

I had a lot on my mind. And the more I thought about trying to stop thinking about it, the more I thought about it.

Edward.

He sent me a text message a week ago. All it said was, Why did you change your voicemail message to a robot? Just wondering. Look, Bella... I cannot make it any clearer to you that I would like to talk with you and catch up. Please call me or text me back when you get this. That is all I'm asking for.

My ex. Edward Cullen.

I never called him back. I couldn't sent him a text.

What could I say? What difference would it make?

He probably wouldn't even remember talking to me the next day. Every single time he calls me, he's drunk and rambling, barely coherent enough to make a sentence sound accurate..

I mean, why couldn't he call me when he was sober, if it was so important to speak to me? And why did he want to talk to me in the first place? It's been eleven months since we broke up. Eleven months of confusion and heartache, and things I don't want to think about this early in the night.

Point is, the last time we saw each other in person, it was heartbreaking enough. I didn't want to reminisce about it, even if it was on the phone.

All it did was hurt me.

The last time I heard anything about him from anybody else was a month and a half ago, when a mutual friend of ours saw him 'slut-hopping', as she so eloquently put it, from girl to girl at a club on winter break when he came back to Seattle. He was drunk and had his hands all over two blondes.

Obviously, he wasn't calling me because he missed me. He probably only calls when he's drunk and lonely and wants someone to talk to him until he passes out.

...Yeah, Bella. Keep trying to convince yourself of that.

I sighed loudly. I didn't know what to do about him.

I needed another drink.

*&*#!#$^%$^

Brrrrrrrrr.

I exhaled and rolled over in my bed, pushing my face into Tyler's chest.

Brrrrrrrrr.

"Tyler," I groaned. "Get your stupid phone. You put it on vibrate again."

"'S not my phone, Bella."

"It's freakin' goin' off."

Brrrrrrrrr.

"It's not mine," he rolled over, away from me. "Mine's dead."

I moved on my back and glanced at my nightstand, watching my phone spin around in a circle, the tiny LCD screen brightened. Blinking a few times, I felt the alcohol sway around in my head, as I struggled to grasp a hold of it. Waiting for my eyes to adjust, I glanced at the screen. Edward Cullen, it read.

"Great," I mumbled, sitting up.

Brrrrrrrrr.

I felt my heart clench and my throat tighten, as it continued to buzz in my hand.

I stumbled over my dirty laundry on the floor, and made it out into the hallway. I didn't know if I should answer it.

"Edward," I panted, sliding down the wall, "please stop calling me."

Brrrrrrrrr.

I shut my eyes, pressing the phone to my mouth. He wasn't making this any easier on me.

It was bad enough, having my boyfriend over for the first time in two weeks.

Trying to pretend I was much happier than I was.

Trying to pretend that this drinking habit I picked up was just to have fun.

Trying to pretend that every single time I saw a tall man walking away from me, I flashed back to a time when Edward was walking away from me. To all the pain he caused.

My phone stopped buzzing, and I waited as the voice mail picked up. I knew he was going to leave me a message.

He always did.

My legs shook and my breath cut short as I waited for my phone to come up, saying I had a message.

What would he say?

...I needed another drink.

Staggering to pull myself down the wall. I passed by Rosalie's room, her door open, Jake sleeping beside her. Those two, they never made any sense to me. I wasn't about to try to understand them now.

I crawled into my kitchen and pulled the Tequila bottle out of the freezer. It had enough for a few shots. I slid down the refrigerator and knocked off a few magnets on the way down. They crashed onto the floor around me, one of them bouncing off the glass bottle and landing on my foot.

I was a mess.

I felt the tears roll down my face as I flipped the screen open and steadied my finger over the green button that would call my voice mail.

I don't know why, but I needed and resented the idea of hearing his voice. ...The voice I once lingered on, depended on, for everything.

The voice that once comforted me.

It'd make it so much harder if I listened to it.

It'd make it so much more difficult for me to look into the eyes of Tyler, a sweet guy, a safe guy, the guy I had been seeing for three months now, and know that I was thinking about Edward. It wouldn't be fair to him. And this message, whatever Edward left on it... even if he was to tell me that he was as happy as can be, it'd ruin me.

It'd ruin me if he said he was miserable too.

Either way, if I listened to it, Edward Cullen was going to ruin me, once again.

I sniffled, wiped my nose, and chugged a bit of the ice cold, burning gold Tequila. It slipped down my raw throat, and I gasped, clutching my chest. My hands were shaking, my breath was short. The only time I didn't feel numb was when I was hurting, and that only happened when he left me a voice mail in the middle of the night.

"Don't listen to it," I whispered to myself, squeezing the phone tight. "Don't do it, Bella. It's only going to hurt you."

I imagined scenarios in my mind. Things like, 'Hey Bella, I just wanted to catch up and let you know that I am engaged to be married. She's a great girl...' or 'Hey Bella. You ruined my life, you disgusting bitch. Thank you for kissing Black and breaking my heart. I hope you burn in hell.' or 'Hey Bella. Just wanted to let you know I finally got over you. I'm happy and content. I hope you are too'.

Nothing I thought of was encouraging.

I felt like a science rat, running through those little cardboard mazes. No matter which hole I slipped through, there was another long hallway, or another trap at the end.

Nothing led me to a destination.

Taking another swig of the alcohol, I wiped my face once more, turned on my speaker-phone, and pressed '1' to hear my message.

The first thing I noticed was how raw his voice sounded. The second was the fact that I could hear him crying...

"Hey... It's me again. I know it's late and all, but I thought that you might be up... Actually, that's a lie. I don't know what I thought. All I know is, that... this life I have now, it's not a life at all. It hasn't been in a long time. I... realize that I'm no good for you, and proof of tonight and all my disgusting choices makes it all that much clearer to the both of us, I'm sure... But... I just want you to know that I'm thinking about you... I'm... always thinking about you. Wondering if your eyes have same hues in them, or if your smile decorates your face the way that I once remembered it doing so. I wonder if you're happy, what you look like when you're asleep now, if you ever miss me as much as I fucking miss you...

...A lot of the times, Bella, I just find myself wondering if you're trying to forget me as much as I wish you could. Because I know you're better off without me. I know that having me again might be a mistake for you, and I am not upset that you never allowed yourself to love me in the first place... I know we were young. But I want you to know that I feel myself withering away, the further I get from you. Dissolving into emptiness. And I don't want to feel like that. I don't want to forget you, or pretend like you didn't exist in my life. I just want to forget the bad stuff, just all the fucking bad stuff I allowed to happen to us.

...I miss you. And as much as I don't deserve it, I hope that you're missing me too. But then again, I don't. I'm just so confused about you, constantly confused and frustrated. My chest, it closes a little more, every day that I think about you. And it's not because I drink or smoke. I cannot stop thinking, everyday, having these thoughts. I cannot stop wanting to hear from you, wanting to know you're happy... I just... I want you to be so, extremely happy. Elated. And...

I don't know what else I want... Yes I do. I want you. I'll always want you.

...Goodnight, beautiful."

By the time the voice message ended, I was curled up on the tile in fetal position, gripping the phone against my chest.

Every single word... every syllable he said... killed me.

I tried to steady my breathing. Tried to tell myself that I was okay.

I wasn't.

"Oh my God," I gasped, pushing my face into the hard floor. "Oh my God."

Why did he have to do this to me?

Why now?

What the fuck did he want from me?

I was angry.

I was angry, and I was hurt, and I was broken...

Then I was also thankful, in a sick, masochistic way, that he was thinking about me.

I didn't know what I was.

"Dammit," I sobbed, my body shaking cold and achy. "Fuck."

Call him.

"I can't," I cried.

You need to call him.

I shook my head, trying to steady my breathing again, "...I c-can't."

I couldn't think.

I couldn't breathe.

I felt my chest closing, tightening, clutching. My throat ache. My eyes bursting into tears, all over again.

I didn't want to cry over him anymore.

I just wanted to know that I deserved better than some person who would treat me the way that he did. Yes, I allowed Jake to kiss me. But he took it way further with Tanya, and he knew it. He almost had sex with her that night... and now he was having sex with her.

It was all too much, and I was still angry.

I spent the next hour in a ball in the middle of the kitchen floor, going over every single fight we'd had in my mind. Every tear, every shout, every hurtful word, every sound of something shattering.

Edward Cullen wasn't in my life anymore. He chose not to be.

He asked me to take him back, and I did, and then he broke up with me all over again.

He doesn't want me. No matter what he claims, I know the truth.

He wants someone to justify his actions. To make him feel better from what he did.

To unmake the bed he laid for himself.

And I couldn't be that person anymore.

I couldn't tell him everything was going to be all right when I did not believe that myself.

I loved him. God, did I love him. I never told him, but I think he knew it.

And that makes this all so much worse.

The thoughts that I wasn't good enough for him. That I wasn't slutty enough, like all of the girls he goes after now.

He wanted a skinny bitch with blonde hair and blue eyes to do whatever he wanted and asked for.

He didn't want love.

He didn't want a relationship.

He didn't want me.

He was young, and so was I, and I fell for every single word he said, and I got kicked in the face for it. I should have known better.

Not again.

I cannot do it again.

I won't put myself in that position.

We're miles away from each other.

We have separate lives.

He just needed to let go.

...And so did I.

I exhaled, shaking my head.

I was numb now.

Numb, all over again.

This was the only way I could operate without him.

...I had to lie.

I had to pretend I was something that I wasn't.

It was the only way that we could go on.

After swallowing down the rest of the Tequila, I sat up, wrapped my arms around my legs, and called him back.

I listened as it rang, my heart stiffening. I begged and begged for God to not let him answer the phone.

"Don't pick up," I cried, rocking back and forth against the fridge. "Don't pick up, don't pick up, don't pi-"

"Hello?"

I gasped, my hand holding my throat.

I couldn't breathe.

"Hello?" he said again, his voice so raw, I barely recognized it.

I covered the phone and cried for a second, trying to push out the tears so I could breathe.

"Bella?"

Okay, Bella. Get it together. Get it together, get it together.

"E-Edward?" I said, my voice barely soundable. No, not good enough. Sound strong, Bella.

"Edward?" I said again.

"Bella?"

"Hey," I replied, forcing a smile. "I'm sorry if I woke you up-"

"You didn't," he said. "I was up."

Now my heart started to pound relentlessly. "I realize it's really late-"

"It's okay," he answered. "I don't care how late it is. I just wanted to talk to you. How are you?"

Get to the point Bella. Get to the point, and get off. "I'm..."

LIE BELLA.

"I'm... really good, Edward. In fact, that was why I decided to call you back."

Silence for a moment. Silence was killing me, weakening me. I couldn't handle it.

"Are you still there?"

"Yeah," he replied, sniffling. "Yeah. I'm still here. So... you're okay... then?"

"Yeah," I said, sobbing silently, the rush of tears slipping down my chest.

Oh how it hurt too much to hear his voice. To hear the pain in him. Pain that I caused.

He wasn't okay.

I wasn't either.

I was lying to myself. I hurt him, just as much as he hurt me.

I did it more than once.

And this... was KILLING me.

I didn't know how to fix us.

"I'm really great," I replied, pulling the phone away so I could wipe off my face. "Couldn't be better."

"You... sound a little off... are you sure you're okay?"

I nodded, though he couldn't see me. My voice was shaking, and so was my body, "I'm fine... I have a little cold.. T-That's why I am up so late."

"I'm sorry you're sick," he whispered. "I wish I could be there to help you."

I shut my eyes, pounding my head with my hand.

I was so stupid to call him. So stupid to think that I could handle this.

I couldn't.

"I... really wish I was there to take care of you, Bella. You know that, right? That I'd take care of you, if I could be there?"

I sobbed louder, covering up the end of the phone, so he wouldn't hear me.

I wish you were here too, Edward.

I wish you were, and I hate myself for wishing you were.

Take this pain away from me.

"Bella?"

"Sure," I replied, swallowing hard. "Sure you would... You were always good at taking care of people when they're s-sick."

"I don't just mean when you are sick."

Covering my mouth, I felt a panic attack coming on. This was so hard.

I sucked in a gasp of air and steadied the phone between my knees, so I could wrap my arms around myself, "E-Edward... the reason I'm calling is... I'm trying to let you know that you don't have to worry about me. You don't have to think that you've ruined my life or anything. I'm fine... What... what happened between us was a long time ago, and..."

I bit my lib, fighting back the urge to scream, "We were just kids. It's... I'm..."

"...Okay?"

"Yeah," I sniffled. "I'm really okay."

I listened to the faint sound of his breathing. Of his swallows through his tears.

I didn't want him to know I could hear him cry. "Are you still there?"

"Yes. I'm having a hard time believing you though."

"Well believe it," I cleared my throat. "Because it's true. I'm fine, Edward."

"I don't know how to respond to that, Bella."

"You should just say congratulations, Bella. Just tell me that you're happy for me. Tell me that you're understanding what I am trying to say. Because... Y-you can't just keep calling me in the middle of the night, when you're lonely. You can't just keep leaving me all these messages, confusing my thoughts, making me feel this way. It's not right. I'm trying to move on, and I just want you to stop getting in the way of all of that. I know you don't want me. You just don't want to be alone."

I exhaled loudly. The words came out, and there was nothing I could do about it. I was starting to get angry, and I hated him for making me that way again.

I had to stay strong.

"Edward, look. You and I, we're on very separate roads. You want someone else. You chose someone else. And it hurt me at first, but... I'm really okay with that now. You need to be too. After all, it was your decision."

He scoffed.

"I have to go," I said, feeling myself breaking down again. "I think it's best if you try not to call me unless it's really important. Like an emergency. Because this back and forth thing, it's not healthy for us."

"Do you really want that? For... me to stop calling you?"

"Yes," I lied. "It's what I want."

"Okay... if that's what you want, then I'll do it. I just want you to be happy."

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. One final lie, Bella, and it can all be over. "I am happy, Edward."

"All right. Then I will stop."

"Good," I said, my voice barely making it out. I couldn't stop shaking. "Well... I guess this is it then."

"Yeah... I guess."

I sniffled, shaking my head. "Goodnight Edward."

He was silent.

I didn't want silence. It was unbearable.

"Edward?"

"Goodnight, Bella."

I grabbed my phone, inhaling sharp. I just needed to hang up before I told him the truth. All of it.

Holding my finger over the 'End' button, I closed my eyes.

"Oh, Bella?"

Shit.

"Y-Yeah?"

"...Congratulations. I'm happy for you. I understand what you are trying to say."

I scoffed. He said everything I told him I wanted to say.

It didn't make me feel any better.

"Okay. Goodbye then... Edward."

"Yeah. Goodbye then."

As soon as I hung up, I threw the phone across the cabinet, watching the back of it shatter, the battery flying across the floor.

I told myself it was for the best. Tried convincing myself of that.

That maybe he could move on from now, even if I couldn't, unless I continued to lie to myself. To Tyler. To everyone.

...Somehow, I knew he would struggle with this too.

I hated myself even more now.

So this, I thought, was what it meant by killing two birds with one stone.

One lie.

We were both dead.

----AUTHOR'S NOTES----

So there we go, Outtake #4!

--- :( I know. It sucks. Don't hate on Bella. She did what she felt she had to do. You've got to realize that, in this part of her life, she didn't think her and Edward would see each other for a long while. She thought he was only doing what he was doing because he was lonely, because that's all she ever heard about him was how he was always with women... Or she did what she did to convince herself of that, though she knew better. She wanted him to move on more than herself. She did what she did as a sacrifice. And now, you see why in Ch 1, they are still SO ANGRY with each other... She broke his heart by telling him to not call her anymore and to basically leave her alone. He broke her heart by being with the typical blonde, slutty woman that night in the club...

This was how they 'ended' it. And for the next few years in college, not only do they lie to themselves and everyone else around them, and break themselves down, but they realize that all they ever did was hear gossip about each other all those years, and all those things add up inside and keep building and building until the explosion... Hence TEF Ch 1 and Ch 2.
(And if you remember TEF "Getting Free," she tells Edward about Tyler. Just to make sure you guys knew about that.)

The pieces will keep adding up.

Thoughts? There's plenty more to come, so stick around!! AND REVIEW!!!

Reviews are better than Rosalie hitting boys with metal spatula. :D