Sorry for the late update. I couldn't find any motivation to type.
Ch. 6- Motorcycles- EPOV
I folded my hands behind my head and stared at the ceiling. There was nothing to do. I couldn't concentrate on anything. My homework was finished. My chores were done. I didn't have any meetings or parties or get-togethers to go to. 'Damn it, why isn't there anything to do?' I furiously thought to myself. Any time, I was immobile and wasn't busy, my thoughts wandered. And then I found myself trying to think, why they would have gone to all that trouble to make me feel like a part of their family. Especially, Carlisle and Alice. I'd started to see them as my father and sister.
And there was nothing to say about her. God, it hurt every time. Why? "Edward?" I heard my mom call tentatively. I sighed and got up to meet her downstairs. She had her hands on her hip and was staring at me with determination in her eyes. "Get dressed," she ordered firmly. I frowned. "Why?" I asked. As far as I knew, I hadn't been acting crazy. I did everything as I was supposed to. Was she sending me to a psychiatrist or something?
"Because, I'm going over to meet the Blacks. Phil is at the station and you're not about to stay here alone. So, you're coming with me. It would do you good to get out. Rebecca and Jacob will be there to keep you company," she rattled it all off in one breath. I wanted badly to protest, but one look at her green eyes made me realize that she was doing this for me, trying to help me in some way. I sighed and went back upstairs to change.
"So what do you think?" Rebecca asked, her eyes shining in hope. I gaped at the two motorcycles in awe. The worried looks on Billy Black's face, in addition to my mother's had been too much for me to take, so I'd begged Rebecca in whispers to take me to the garage. She'd decided to show me the bikes she and her brother, Jacob, had been working on. "They're beautiful," I agreed. It had been a long time since I'd spoken properly about anything.
Becca ran a loving hand across one. "Jake said he'd teach me to ride, but he never got the chance," she pouted. I suddenly got an idea. "I can teach you," I said. "I know how to ride one, it's easy." Becca turned to me, her dark eyes sparkling like polished river stones. "Let's go now," she suggested. I agreed quickly.
In a few minutes, Rebecca was seated on one of the bikes, while I gave her a crash course on the gears. She was nearly as tall as me, so she had no effort with balancing the weight. "Don't let go of this until I tell you to," I instructed her strictly. "Think of it as the pin of a grenade, alright?" She nodded and I positioned her hands properly over both the handle.
'Stop,' someone said. I froze; that voice. I couldn't have imagined it; it was much too perfect. I didn't have that degree of recall, though I liked to think that it was effortless to remember her. But, even so, this hallucination of her voice was more right than any of the memories which I so desperately tried not to think of. 'This is madness. It is nowhere near safe. One of you is going to end up getting hurt.' She was worried, I realized. My hallucination was worried about me. The irony was laughable. "Edward?" Becca's voice reached me.
I started and realized I was still holding her hands. "Okay, ready?" I asked and let go, taking a step back. "Go," I yelled and she took off, handling the bike effortlessly. At least, she did for about five minutes, before somehow losing control and crashing into a tree. "Becca!" I screamed in panic. Quickly, mounting my own bike, I drove over to where she lay and jumped off, being down to help her sit up.
"Oh God," she moaned. "Hold still," I ordered, hurriedly removing my T-shirt to wipe the blood off. "You've got a pretty big gash on your forehead," I observed and she moaned again. "You're getting blood on your T-shirt," she protested weakly. I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, I noticed, Sherlock. But, I've got a few extra ones at home, plus a washing machine." She rolled her eyes, too, but let me wipe her head clean. But, all the time, I tried not to notice how her eyes stayed trained on me.
"You know," she started. "You're kind of beautiful, especially your eyes." I tried not to wince at her words, as another scene played out in my head.
"Your eyes really are beautiful, Edward," Bella said, her head tilted to the side as she looked up at me. "Yeah, well, I think your eyes are beautiful," I answered with an impish smile and bent down to quickly kiss her smiling lips.
I shook the memory off and tried to smirk at Becca. "You think I'm beautiful, really? How hard did you hit your head exactly?" I asked playfully and she blushed.
"You look better today. Hanging out with Rebecca seems to have helped," Mom noted. Silently, I cursed my mother's sharp eyes and observation skills. "Yeah, it was good," I admitted and looked up to meet her gaze. There was something in her eyes that I couldn't quite identify; maybe disappointment, or sadness, or hope?
But that night, as I lay in bed, I realized mom was right. Being with Rebecca helped me to forget the pain. Sure, some odd phrases or random comments brought it back full force, but at least it wasn't constant. She seemed to able to patch up the hole they had left behind.
And that night, for the first time in three months, I slept without nightmares.
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