Stephenie Meyer owns the Cullens, I own the original characters. This is just for entertainment reasons, no infringement or slander intended.
Chapter Four:
To say that the past few days had been excrutiating was the understatement of the century. Not only had I been forced to wait that long for my test results, but Margie had begun to work longer hours. That meant, of course, more time spent under the scrutinizing glare of Derrick. He was getting better at imagining me naked, I would have to give him that. And the only reason I knew he was doing this was because of him trying to walk in on me in the shower one morning before school. But now I didn't have the luxury of escaping to school. It was Saturday, the last Saturday we had before our big Physics project was due. We were halfway finished with the project and Edward had told me that we wouldn't have to spend such long hours together for very long. But I'd found myself not minding all that much. I was beginning to feel safe in Edward's presence, something I wasn't entirely sure of as a good thing or bad. The only logical choice had been to study at his house. The library didn't have what we needed and my house was just too cramped to fit us both, plus Derrick's unwanted glare. He had more room in his family's home, he'd explained and later confirmed when he took me on a tour. We'd ended up in his room, which looked weird considering the decor, but I didn't press on it.
Images of his room had joined his expressions and voice in my thoughts. Every night, without fail, I dreamed about the four walls of his bedroom, one a window that encased the entire back of the house. The walls were draped in dark gold tapestries, the carpet a similar yet lighter color, and his walls looked more like an extensive record store than a seventeen-year-old boy's bedroom. But the thing that had honestly surprised me the most was the absence of a bed. Instead, there was just a wide, black leather couch pushed up against the wall facing the large window. I'd asked Edward about it, briefly, and he just claimed that he'd fallen in love with the couch too much to consider getting a bed. Plus he claimed to hate cluttered space and in the expansive layout of his room, I believed it.
Gathering up my school books, I tried to be as quiet as possible as I moved through the house. If I went through the woods, my walking time to Edward's tree-shrouded property was considerably lessened. But when I got to the front door, Derrick stumbled out of the kitchen.
"And she finally leaves her room!" He bellowed and I could smell the stench of alcohol from where I stood. Grimacing against the large wooden door, I slowly turned and faced him with a bored expression on my features. "And she's carrying books." He continued to sneer as he stumbled even more into the living room. I didn't know how much he'd had to drink and honestly, I didn't care. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen Derrick Lawson actually sober.
"I told you, project to finish." I lied easily, keeping my facial features arranged carefully as he leaned over me now, one hand bracing himself against the door beside my head. I couldn't escape when he stood like that but with the alcohol smelling like it was just pouring out of his skin, I knew it wouldn't take much to stun him long enough for me to run.
"Don't buy it." He grumbled and shook his head slightly, giving me clear access to his bloodshot eyes. I just looked away, not wanting the vivd mental reminders of Edward's eyes. The eyes of his entire family and how different they were from Margie's and Derrick's.
"I gotta go." I sighed and turned my shoulder into the door so I could turn and get out. Of course, Derrick wasn't having that and I flinched in surprise when his hand suddenly bounced off the door loudly.
"I say when you get to leave." He growled and reached up with his free hand to roughly grab my chin. Forced to look at him now, I just stood there, clutching my bag to my chest desperately as I waited for whatever it was he was going to do. I could already feel a bruise forming under Derrick's touch but I paid it no mind. I just wanted away from him at this point!
"Please?" I begged, my voice dropping into a whisper. He only responded by releasing my jaw long enough to bring his hand back. It connected with my cheek hard and tears instantly welled up in my eyes. Pushing the shoulder that wasn't leaning against the door against him, I managed to get him off balance long enough for him to clear the door. I didn't think twice or even look back as I wrenched the heavy wood from it's frame and flung myself outside. I heard him screaming out on the porch as my feet began to echo against the pavement. The neighbors would come out and see what was going on and I reached back to pull the hood of my sweatshirt over my head and ducked into the woods. Walking blindly, I was finally made aware of the stinging sensation flooding through my cheek and my eyes were still filled with tears. I managed to blink those back as I continued to move through the wooden area. I wasn't going to stop until I felt like a safe enough amount of distance was between myself and Derrick. I didn't know if he'd ever hit Margie like he'd just hit me and I blindly began to hope he hadn't. I could handle him beating me around but I didn't want Margie to have to suffer through that. And I couldn't tell her either. I knew who's side she would take and I had a sinking suspicion that it wouldn't be mine.
Finally, my agonizingly slow pace led me to the clearing that introduced the Cullen house. I'd found a shortcut and hadn't even known it. Keeping my hood drawn over my head, I just stumbled onto the porch and knocked lightly before taking a step back. My bag was still clutched to my chest, hair falling in front of my face in a haphazard, windblown disarray but I made no move to clean myself up. It would just be a wasted effort anyway on the family that was too perceptive for their own good at times.
I'd hoped that when the door opened, it would be someone other than Edward. He was the most observant when it came to me and I knew his eyes would quickly fall on my redden cheek and jawline. I didn't know what I was going to say if he asked what happened but I was pretty sure I would just end up making something up off the top of my head. Suddenly, I wondered how crippling it would be to have the entire town think of me as some kind of clutz. At least it would be better than the alternative, right? No one really needed to know that my foster mother's boyfriend was putting his hands on me. When he wasn't imagining me naked, that was. But my hope diminished considerably when Edward was the one to pull the front door open, surprise flickering across his face before concern completely took over. It was clear in his eyes, which were a little darker now than before, and laced through every creased feature on his face. "Houston? You okay?"
"Yeah." I nodded and forced a small smile onto my features as I reached up to push back stray hairs. It was quickly something I wished I hadn't done because when my hand swept over my sore cheek, I winced and deftly dropped my hand. "I'm sorry to just drop by but I figured maybe we could go ahead and finish up that project? I probably should've called in case you had something to do but..." Trailing off, I forced myself to shut up long enough to look up at him clearly. The cynical part of my mind was desperate to break to the surface as my cheek continued to burn in pain, wanting to just convince myself that he was only allowing me into his house because of some grade.
But yet I found myself walking across the treshold anyway, his eyes and face inviting as he held his arm out in greeting. "I actually wasn't doing anything. But something tells me that you didn't come here just to study."
His words stopped me cold and when I twisted around to look up at him, the hood of my sweater dropped against my shoulderblades. My hair was a mess of tangles down my back but I didn't care. All I really did care about was my exposed left cheek. I could only imagine what it looked like. And almost on cue, Edward was leaning over me like Derrick had been. I recoiled quickly, ducking my face unconsciously toward my shoulder as I twisted again. Edward noticed and backed away from me, his hands burrowing deeply into his pockets. "I guess that answers the question I wanted to ask." His voice was dark and quiet in my ears, still twisting into the familiar melody of my dreams. Only, the playback in my mind never seemed to do him any sort of justice.
I wanted to say something, anything, to negate what had just happened. But in that moment, I realized we were no longer alone. Alice had flittered into the room, grinning from ear to ear as she bounded toward the couch gracefully. A tall and lean blonde boy was behind her, nearly grimacing as he settled onto the couch as well. Confusion furrowed my brow when I pulled my eyes from them and looked up at Edward. He just shook his head slightly, only grabbing my hand to pull me upstairs when Alice cheerfully welcomed me back to the house. I threw my free hand up in a greeting once my bag was on my shoulder and followed Edward to his room in bewildered silence.
No one said anything until we were in his room and the door was closed behind us. I could tell his features were stressed again just by the way he was moving. The lines underneath his solid black tee shirt were even more defined than before, but he still looked more like a model than a teenage boy. "Sorry about downstairs." I muttered helplessly as I dropped my bag to the floor and moved to shrug out of my zip-up sweater. The sweater I always wore, no matter what the weather was like. "I just...haven't had a good morning, that's all."
"When are you going to tell me what was going on?" His tone wasn't accusing as he turned and slowly faced me, easing his long, lean body onto one side of the couch while my legs curled me toward the floor. Sitting Indian-style on the plush carpet, I just shrugged and looked down as I reached for my bag. Edward moved quickly, and I would've been able to see his quickness clearly had I been looking up. But in the next moment, he was on the floor beside me, one hand stretched over my bag in a silent way to get me to stop moving. I did and looked up at him with a quiet sigh. "What do you want me to say, Edward? We're lab partners, that's it, okay? Besides, why do you care if I walk around looking like trash?"
"I care because it's not what you deserve." He practically growled the words out and I flinched in sheer reaction to the tone of his voice. I'd never really seen him be vocally mad but I was quick to assert that I would have much rather seen him angry than heard him. I could deal with the glares much better.
Rolling my eyes was another reflex reaction, something I wasn't even aware of doing until I was still again. "No one ever said life was fair, Edward. My life...nothing in it screams fairness." I went on with a small shrug of my shoulders as I slowly slid my bag into my lap. "Not everyone gets as lucky as you. No one gets the fairytale where they meet the people that are going to take care of them and watch out for them when no one else is able to do it. Not everyone gets a second chance at the perfect family picture. You're a rare exception, trust me when I say that. So please, can we just finish this project then I promise you can go back to ignoring me or whatever it was you were doing when I first arrived in Forks."
The expression that flashed over his face was crippling and the decision to never remind him of that again was suddenly confirmed in my mind. Even though I didn't know anything about him, and he knew even less about me, I realized that I didn't want to hurt him. More importantly, I couldn't. I would never be able to hurt the beautiful boy sitting in front of me. At least, intentionally. But unintentional pain was inflicted all the time. And always by the most unsuspecting of people. Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I just sighed and dropped my head, my hair framing my bruised cheek from view. But I still saw it when Edward tensed visibly then got up to collect his own books. Suddenly, I was more confused than ever. On one hand, he looked like he really wanted to get to know me, to talk to me normally and have things resemble more of a friendship than a partnership. But then moments like that, where he would tense up and look like I was the most vile creature on the planet, came in and ripped things apart. I honestly didn't know what to do. Or more importantly, what I wanted to do. Spending time with Edward Cullen was dangerous, I could sense that in every second that I was around him. But for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why that was. What it was about him that made him so dangerous to me. But yet at the same time, safe.
Shaking my head mentally, mainly to clear away the invisible cobwebs, I dug a stack of papers out of my bag and stretched my legs out in front of me, crossing my ankles with my feet pointed outward slightly. I felt eyes on me then and looked up to see Edward looking at my sneakered feet curiously. "Why do you always do that?"
"Do what?" I asked, oblivious to his entire point.
"That." He set the book he'd been holding in his lap then pointed at my feet.
Blushing deeply, I probably managed to disguize the forming bruise on my cheek beautifully. I'd never realized that I sat that way. "Oh. I used to dance. Old habit."
"Dance?" Edward's lips twisted up into a light smile as he completely forgot about the book resting against his thighs and leaned toward me curiously. "What kind of dance?"
"Everything." I shrugged and easily turned so that I could lean back against the couch behind us. I tried not to pay attention to the fact that I was now sitting right beside him, instead concentrating as my legs were pulled up and my heels began to dig into the carpet slightly. "I started out in Ballet then eventually moved on to study a little bit of everything."
"Do you still dance?"
"No." The answer was more clipped than I'd intended, suddenly hoping against hope that I didn't sound so final he would not want to ask me another question. The hardness of my expression softened as I looked over at him and lifted one corner of my mouth into a bit of a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sore subject."
"Understandable." He nodded, looking much too compassionate. But my bitter answer didn't stop him from asking more questions. "But can I ask what made you have to go into foster care?"
"My mom died." I sighed, hating that I was having to talk about this. The memory of my mother's death, while sometimes hazy, was still very painful. Talking about it always equaled ripping open an old wound that had almost healed completely. And then the subject of my father was never touched. Ever. He was just as dead to me as my mother was. "Dad too, I never knew him though."
"We have too much in common." When I heard the quietness in his voice, I honestly wasn't sure if I was even supposed to hear that. But I let it go, not wanting to push the spotlight off of me and cast it on him. I'd never really been a curious person before but Edward was fastly changing that for me. I was more curious about him than I'd ever been about anyone else in my life. Something I was sure would ultimately lead to be a very bad thing for me.