The Coveter
4
Bella
"Rachael!" I squealed aloud to no one as I pulled into the driveway in my large red pickup. When I saw the familiar Volkswagen Rabbit in the driveway- the same car that Jacob, Rachael's bother, had been tinkering with for some years, I knew I was expecting a visit from the Blacks. Most importantly, Rachael would be with them; a good friend since Charlie met them on a fishing trip down to the La Push reservation when I was six. Our friendship was especially strained right now because of Rachael being a freshman at the University of Washington this year.
I ejected myself from the cab and bounded up the porch steps and into the door, shouting, "Dad! I'm home!" 'You've got some s'plainin' to do' I mentally added. How I Love Lucy of me. Why are the Blacks here? Not that I mind, no not at all, but of all the times they come here it's usually on the pretense of bad news in La Push, unless we visit them and it's purely sociable.
"In the kitchen, Bells!"
They all sat there at the kitchen table, brooding with steaming mugs in their hands, when I entered.
"Bella," Jacob smiled warmly, and then taking a sip from his mug looked down at the table. Meanwhile, his sister jumped from her chair to engulf me in a hug.
"Long time, no see. It's great to be home!" She said with a smile.
Pulling myself a step back we faced each other. "You'll have to show me some of your recent paintings. Are the art courses at the college any good?"
"Dad?" Rachael pleaded. Billy gave a short nod and I towed her by the elbow into the living room across the hall. Once we sat down she began, "I'm working on a large canvas with my acrylics. I'm painting Emily Young's house with Sam Uley; do you remember going there on the reservation with me?"
"The little yellow Tudor? Yeah. She is an excellent cook."
"Mhm…" A pause. Rachael was way too perceptive for her own good. "That's not why you brought me in here, is it?"
"No, of course not." She sighed. "Come on, Rachie! They never tell me anything whenever they visit, and I know it's something big if Charlie had to make up some coffee. Heaven forbid it should be edible." My face contorted into a grimace just thinking about my father's cooking.
She rolled her eyes. "It's my dad and those old Quillette legends- whatever they are. He's got some prejudice about that Cullen family who just moved to the area. The chief almost had an aneurysm back there, says he can't believe the good doctor's family… blah, blah. Did you know the Mr. Cullen is a doctor? He works down at the Fork's hospital, a surgeon I think."
"I know. I actually met the kids today at school. Apparently their all adopted, but they're all together. And they're so… well, good looking! You should have seen the looks on some of the girls when Edward walked with me to Biology. You might've thought they were struck by lightening."
"Ooh, tell me about Edward!" She giggled.
I should've known that she would draw conclusions, but I couldn't help the blush that was creeping up into my cheeks. "He's nice, handsome. Quiet. I could see us as being friends. He's not really my type though."
She buzzed her lips, exhaling. "No one is ever your type! What about prom? You're going, you have to! And you can't go without a date. What about Mike Newton? He's been following you around all these years, maybe…?"
"Yeah, and he's getting kind of creepy… and stalker-ish." We stared each other down until I burst out laughing and she followed suit. "Okay…" I gasped. "Alright, enough about prom. What has your dad got against the Cullens?"
"I'm not entirely sure. He thinks their vampires or something?"
A fresh round of laughter erupted in the room. "Vampires? Your dad… what? Oh, this has to be… oh!" We laughed on and off, when one of us paused to collect ourselves the other would too and then with another glace we would start giggling again. Both of us were out of breath when Billy called out gruffly, "Rachael, time to go!"
"Bye, Bells," Rachael said, giving me one last hug. "I'll be back in a couple of weeks. Maybe you can introduce me to your new friends."
"Yeah, sure. Email me, and send me a picture of that painting."
"Sure thing!" I waved at the Rabbit as it sped off down the street until my arm hurt from being held up too long.
The phone began to ring in the kitchen. A moment later Charlie answered, "Hello? Yeah, um sure." Then shouting, "Bella! It's for you!"
I walked into the kitchen and took the phone from his hand. "Hello?" I asked.
"Bella," Lauren's sickeningly sweet voice replied. "We have so much to talk about! How was lunch?"
"Great, they're-."
"Actually, can we talk about something else?" She interrupted. I rolled my eyes. "Like, I don't know. Edward?"
"What about him?"
"Everything!"
I breathed into the phone, "Well he's handsome and smart, like you said. He plays the piano and writes his own compositions and won't eat meat."
"A vegetarian? Ooh, that's sexy. Does he have a girlfriend?"
"No, and he said he's not looking." Poor Edward, he should be hiding now that Lauren wants to put her claws on him.
"That's because he hasn't seen me. Hey, Bells. Do you think you're up for a shopping trip? I need a new outfit for tomorrow and Jessica's busy."
Well, I had nothing better to do: homework I could put off till later, and Charlie would probably order pizza. The Blacks were gone and as far as I know we aren't awaiting another visiter. "When?"
She squealed into the phone. "I knew I could count on you. You're my best friend, Bella! I'll pick you up in a half hour." And then the line disconnected.
Sighing, I put the phone back on the hook and marched up to my room, yelling out to my dad: "Going shopping dad! The Pizza Place number is on the fridge for you, incase I'm not home in time."
Once inside my room I pulled out a pair of low rise jeans- my better-than-casual-pants look- a pretty blue baby doll and some flats. Going out with Lauren usual meant dressing up; because she liked to attract the eyes of the public, so doing the same was inevitable. To ease my discomfort I powered up the little boom box and put in my Debussy mix CD. My favorite, Clair De Lune, played first and I hummed along to the tune as brushed out my hair. "Mmm-hm…mhm…mmmm."
Maybe it was my mistake, but when brushing turned to changing CD's and singing into my brush, I swear I saw a pale face flash appear and disappear- just as fast as it came- outside the bedroom window. 'Knock it off, Isabella' I told myself. 'Remember what happened this afternoon? Just static…'