Hi there.
I am so sorry I scared my few readers away with my really, really long absence. I am really sorry, and if I could, I'd promise I wont do it again.
Unfortunately, I can't.
And I'm sorta writing this in hiding. Because I'm supposed to be studying but... well, who cares anyway.
This is the 6th chapter. The longest chapter yet. It took me a while. It took me a long while.
And I'm kinda tired of the story line. Jeesh. I flip through plots quicker than lightning strikes.
Anyway, I don't remember if I already posted the beginning (of this chapter), but whatever.
Love you guys!
Disclaimer- I do not own Twilight. There. Simple and straightfoward.
After spending nearly the whole afternoon cleaning the basement and my grandmother's possessions, I put the vacuum away and dragged myself to my room, exhausted. I had just finished changing into my improvised pyjama (cotton shorts and a tee that said GREEN in blue letters), flopped down on my bed, and was about to open my grandmother's diary when my mother called me for dinner.
"I'm not hungry!" I sort of snapped loudly. I shouldn't have, though; my mum had done nothing wrong. I was just a little bit irritated with everything and a lot desperate to read my grandmother's other entries.
"I don't care, Bella. Come down for dinner," my mum called back in the strangest tone; not angry… more like embarrassed. I ignored her.
She really wasn't supposed to be forcing me into anything, taking into consideration the fact that she was handing me over to some complete stranger.
"Bells, come down, please." This time it was my dad calling. He wasn't supposed to be forcing me into anything, either.
"Bella," my father said again. It was a warning; that much I knew. Sighing loudly and rolling my eyes at nobody, I carefully placed my grandma's diary under my pillow and walked out of my room, slamming the door in the process. To let them know I was headed downstairs.
My behaviour wasn't entirely logical, but being married at 17 wasn't logical, either.
I sort of slugged down the stairs, in no mood to face my parents.
I entered the dining room with a sour look on my face; one that quickly turned to surprise when I saw that there were four people at the table.
"Bella," my dad acknowledged me. It took me a few seconds to realize that he was both talking to me and presenting me.
I broke my eyes away from the two strangers at the table to glare at my dad. Both he and my mum were looking at with half-shocked, half-apologizing expressions. I looked down at my pyjamas. Then back at my parents. Then back at my pyjamas. Finally, someone cleared their throat.
I looked over at Dr. Cullen, who apparently, had been the one to interrupt.
"Hello Bella. We are so sorry for the surprise… we thought that you had been informed, and..:" he trailed off.
I felt the blush rush to my cheeks. Dr. Cullen at my house. Check. Staring at my pyjamas. Check. With my unknown-yet-right-in-front-of-me fiancée. Double check.
That's who he was referring to when he said 'we'. I suddenly felt like running out of there, fast. I was even willing to risk tripping over perfectly flat surfaces and break all the bones in my body, as long as I got the hell out of there.
"Bella, we would like for you to come and have dinner with us and Dr. Cullen and his son," my mum said nervously.
"I am here," I managed to croak out.
"Yes…" my mum said, spying sideways on Dr. Cullen and son," But you should…" my dad cut her off.
"You should go change, since we are eating out," he said with a little more confidence than my mum. I nodded slowly, and then got out of there as calmly as I could manage. As soon as I got out of the dining room, I ran.
Shit, shit, shit. I did not deserve this, I thought angrily to myself as I stormed inside my room and threw myself on the bed. This degree of humiliation was unbearable, and it was just the beginning. It was so not fair!!
Suddenly I couldn't help it, and I screamed into my pillow. It didn't even help if I closed my eyes, because the only image in my brain right now was that of Dr. Cullen and his son, staring awkwardly at me when I was standing in the dining room.
It really didn't help my humiliation that Dr. Cullen's son was… well, not so ugly. Seriously, I had already come up with my own, imaginary, drop-dead ugly fiancée- it made matters worse the fact that he was actually decent. Yeah, probably much more than that, but I definitely wasn't going to admit that to myself. Not yet.
What really shocked me about him were his eyes. Those familiar eyes. Those were the first pair of eyes I had met when I entered the dining room, and those were actually the first pair of eyes that made my heart start beating double time. They made me nervous; he made me nervous. The way he looked at me: slightly interested yet completely bored. Yes, I was not making any sense now. It didn't matter.
What did matter was the fact that I was to be married to him, a complete yet beautiful stranger, who apparently was not the least bit interested. It hurt. And if I were a guy, my ego would've shrunk exponentially.
Jeesh. Now I just didn't make sense; I was being completely irrational.
I am not a guy, and I probably would never be a guy, so why the hell does that matter?
A quiet knock on my door sent me out of my internal dilemma.
"Come in," I managed to say as I sat up on my bed immediately and wiped away the tears I didn't know I had.
"Bella?" my dad asked, poking his head in through a miniscule opening between my door and its frame.
"What?" I managed to ask halfway decently. He threw me a pained look; somewhere between apologizing and pitying. God only knew how much I hated that look. I glared at Charlie.
He put himself together, his face a calm mask, "I wanted to see if you were ready."
"Not yet," I tried saying. I think I sounded like a rodent choking.
"Bella…" Charlie said, holding my gaze.
I looked down.
"Where's mum?" I asked. She was usually the one trying to make things better. I looked up at Charlie.
Great. Now he looked hurt.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, "I didn't mean it like th-" He cut me off.
"I know," he said, a weak grin on his face, "I just thought you needed help." He shrugged.
Of course I needed help… from a therapist.
"It's alright, dad. I know it's not your fault," I said, "It's not anyone's fault… I'm guessing things happen for a reason and…"
He cut me off again by walking into the room and pulling me into a hug. I smiled into his chest.
"Thanks dad. I needed that," I said sincerely. It was really hard for my dad to give any sort of verbal support, but his loving support was exactly what I needed right then.
"Well there… you're welcome," he said, and I could hear the grin in his voice.
Funny how life works. 10 seconds ago I was completely pissed off, and all it took was a hug from my dad to make it all better. There were just some things that did not make sense.
"Come on, Bells," Charlie said, patting me on the back, "Get ready."
I nodded, and then blushed. He noticed (of course).
"What's wrong?" he asked unsurely, not sure if he wanted to know.
I thought about it before asking, "Was that him?"
I really did not need to ask. That was him. I was sure about it. But some part of me (a really small part) hoped he wasn't; a part of me hoped for a drop-dead ugly fiancée with a geeky personality and an obsession with… well, with anything I disliked. That would give me a reason to hate him, other for than ruining my life.
Charlie nodded, looking all serious. Figures. Charlie was… well, overprotective. Just a little.
I sighed loudly and my dad threw me a weird look. I shrugged him off, and stumbled to my closet.
"Not too revealing, Bella," Charlie warned, his voice hoarse. I rolled my eyes. As if I owned anything that didn't cover 99% of my body.
"Of course not, dad. I don't know if you were there when I complained, but I certainly do not want to get married, and even less with a complete stranger," I reasoned with him, sarcastic. He just ignored me.
"He won't be a complete stranger after this afternoon," he murmured under his breath. I rolled my eyes again and went back inside my closet.
The inside of it made me feel like groaning. There was nothing. Absolutely nothing to wear. My mum had given most of my clothes to Goodwill in an attempt to make me change my style. Talk about drastic measures. With all that talk of weddings and stuff, I had forgotten about my current clothing- or in this case, current lack of. I popped my head out of my closet to throw a pleading glance at my father, who was standing in the exact same place as he had been 5 minutes ago, deep in thought.
"Dad… we have a problem," I said.
He snapped out of his reverie. "What's wrong?"
"Um… no clothes?"
He slapped his forehead, "Oh yeah. Darn Renée and…"
I cut him off. "It doesn't matter now. What matters is: what am I going to wear?"
Don't get me wrong. I'm not the type to freak out at the idea of wearing the same shirt twice the same week, or anything similar to that. What I do freak out about is the fact that my closet is completely empty.
"Just wear anything," he suggested smartly.
"Sure, dad. I'll just go and look into my closet," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes for the third time. He sighed loudly.
"Well then, wear your mother's clothes," he said, annoyed. I glared at him briefly before sauntering out of the room to my parents'.
My mum's closet was much bigger than mine. It was a walk-in closet, with big, carved wooden doors and a carpet-lined floor. I was greeted with the smell of freshly ironed linen and designer shoes. It was really an exaggeration. My mum tends to exaggerate a lot when it comes to clothing. She practically bought the same shirt in 7 different colours; one for each day of the week.
Finding something to wear in that jungle would take all afternoon! I waked over to where the dresses were; they always seemed to fit me best. My mom's jeans were always too short and tight, and her skirts were too long.
Rummaging through the racks and racks of evening dresses, I finally found one that wasn't too showy, too sparkly, or too extravagant. This dress was semi-casual, with sleeves that stopped at my elbows, and a v-shaped neckline. It was dark green, with a gorgeous navy blue lining and belt. It was actually pretty cute; I guess fashion wasn't all that horrible once in a while.
I put it on, adjusting the belt so that it would hug my waist. Then I twirled in it. It was so soft and so light I felt like flying in it.
I then looked at my mother's shoe collection.
Now let's see… heels, heels, heels.
Oh well. I'd have to wear my converse, then. I sort of floated out of my parents' room, feeling strangely free.
Charlie eyed my dress when I sauntered into my room and started searching for my converse.
"Where'd you find that?" he asked.
"Mom's closet," I said simply, and got down on my knees to peek under the bed for my converse.
"It's a little…" he trailed off. I got up and pushed my hair out of my face. The converse were not under the bed.
"What?" I asked.
"Well," he stuttered, "It's a little too… umm, dressy?"
I rolled my eyes at him. "What do I wear, then?"
I looked at him with expressionless eyes, waiting for his answer. He started to look a bit uncomfortable.
"Never mind, then, Bells," he said, a grimace/smile on his face, "its pretty."
I nodded at him, and began to search for my converse again. Charlie noticed.
"What are you looking for?"
"My converse."
I think he said something else, but I didn't notice; where were those shoes?
"Why don't you wear your mother's shoes?" he asks a few minutes afterwards, "We're going to be late."
"Late for what?" I asked, looking under my pillow (just in case).
"Well," Charlie began, but was cut off by my mother's voice.
"Charlie! Bella! When are you planning on coming down?" her voice scolded us.
I sort of cringed; we had visitors.
I shouldn't care, though.
That's right. I don't care.
"That's why," Charlie said, grinning a little.
Huh? Why for what?
"Huh?"
"That's why we should hurry," he explained. I sighed.
"I know, Dad, but I can't find my shoes."
This was all just completely irrational. The feeling of "freedom" I felt when I put on the dress was gone now. It shouldn't have been there in the first place. I was the farthest thing from free. I shouldn't even be dressing up for a dinner I hadn't foresighted or planned. This wasn't right. I shouldn't even be in the same room with…
"Bella, are you listening to me?" Charlie shook my shoulders.
Was he talking to me?
"Sorry, dad," I said, blinking, "What were you saying?"
He threw me an exasperate look, "I was saying you should hurry!"
"But I can't find my converse!"
He shook his head, "Bella. It doesn't matter; just wear your mother's shoes."
He said it as if it were the easiest and simplest thing on this earth.
"I can't wear them!" I argued, "Not unless I want to decapitate myself."
Charlie sighed real loudly. "Bells, really. You're exaggerating!"
No I wasn't. I was 100% sure I would surely fall and break my neck if I wore those death traps my mom called shoes.
I voiced my thoughts aloud, but all Charlie did was grab me by the arm and sort of drag me back to his and Renée's room.
"Just find some decent ones, and quick," he ordered, plopping down on his king-sized bed. I glared at him as I made my way to their closet, rubbing my arm.
Now, I was being completely serious when I said that I couldn't wear any of Renée's shoes. I had tried to once. Let's just say it didn't end well. You can probably guess…
Her shoes were really not safe. They were hazardous. They were probably illegal, too.
I searched and searched for some shoes that were not heels, but all I found were 3 pairs of flip flops- absolutely nothing decent.
My mom didn't have any flats. Not even sneakers.
Come on, I prayed, something wearable…. Something wearable…
Then I saw something that made me think miracles did exist.
"My converse!" I all but yelled, scooping them up from the box they were hidden in.
My mom had hid them.
Why?
Whatever, my giddy brain told me, just put them on!
I followed my brain's advice.
They almost seemed heavenly, those shoes. After swimming in a world of heels, the only antidote was a pair of converse…
Oh God. Maybe I'm going nuts.
"Are you ready, Bells?!" Charlie asked, storming into the closet and looking ready to hit something.
"Yeah," I said lightly, not wanting him to crack. He seemed really annoyed, and that was just for being late for dinner. Imagine when I arrived late to my wedding… not that I planned to… of course not…. Not that late, anyway.
He walked out of the room dramatically, pulling me behind him.
I felt myself blush even before we entered the dinning room. Maybe I shouldn't have picked out a dress. They'd probably think I was trying to look good.
I felt sudden shock when my brain came up with an even more horrible prediction.
What if they thought I actually fancied my soon-to-be husband??
My breath sort of got caught up in my throat, and it was getting slightly hard to breathe…
Oh no. Not this again, I told myself as Charlie and I entered the living room, where the others were waiting for us.
I was not going to have a stupid asthma attack. No way.
My breathing evened out a little. I guess all it took was willpower.
No one seemed to notice my shortness of breath, but that was fine with me. The less they knew, the better.
Oh, who was I kidding? Of course they knew. Dr. Cullen had seen me at the hospital…
"Bella," I heard Charlie say. I looked up from the floor to stare at him.
"Yes?"
He just pressed his lips together. I stared at him, puzzled, until I noticed someone had stuck out a hand for me to shake. My eyes shifted from the hand to the arm, up the neck, and finally, to the face. Deep green eyes stared at me, waiting. Bored. I felt my cheeks flame up.
"Hi," my supposed-fiancée said, pulling his hand back, "I'm Edward."
My thoughts went blank. His voice…
I wasn't even sure I wasn't hallucinating…
Snap out of it Bella! Common sense scolded me.
I did. "Hi," I squeaked. I'm not even sure he heard me.
His lips sort of pulled up at the corners, but he didn't really smile.
I went back to staring at the floor. This was just too awkward for me to bear. All of this was wrong. He clearly wasn't happy to be here, I clearly wasn't happy to be marrying him, and God clearly wasn't giving a damn about it.
Jeesh. Just when I thought things couldn't get worse.
"Shall we go?" Dr. Cullen suggested, trying to break the tension that had built up.
Both Charlie and Renée nodded, and my supposed-fiancée threw Dr. Cullen a disbelieving look.
Dr. Cullen just stared at his son, his lips in a thin line. Finally, Edward looked away, his face expressionless.
My parents pretended they didn't notice the look exchanged between Dr. Cullen and son. I followed their example.
Soon afterwards, we were all tucked inside my mother's minivan. Thank heavens it was a van. I don't think I would've been able to sit close to any of the Cullens.
My dad was driving, and Dr. Cullen was in the passenger seat. Edward was sitting in the seat directly behind his father, and my mum and I were in the seats behind him.
"That's a nice dress, Bell. Why haven't you worn it before?" my mother whispered to me, as if it were a secret, but I reckoned Edward could hear.
"Thanks," I snap loudly, "It's yours. That's why I haven't worn it." Everyone in the car turned to look at me. My dad looked angry, Dr. Cullen looked surprised, and Edward looked exasperated.
I glared at each and every one of them, narrowing my eyes murderously.
I don't know what made me act like that. Anger, maybe. And tiredness. I was fucking tired of having to hide in my own house, of having to dress up, of having to forcefully say hi to a complete stranger, who apparently didn't like me or my family much. AND I was hell tired of the whole stupid marriage. I bet everyone would be SO much happier if things had been left the way it was before.
Renée stared at me, shocked. I ignored her and the others and looked out the window. I'd give anything to be anywhere else.
No one said anything the rest of the way to the restaurant. I guess they thought the situation as messed up as I did.
When we were finally at the restaurant (which was way too showy and expensive-looking), no one said anything either. We just got out of the car silently, in a sort of trance.
We were halfway inside when my mom called me aside.
I stared at the others' backs as my mother pulled me aside so I wasn't blocking the entrance of the restaurant.
"What's wrong, Isabella?" she asked in a tone that warned me against saying 'nothing'.
Nevertheless, I still did. "Nothing."
She scowled at me, "It's not nothing! Bella, if it were nothing, you wouldn't have snapped at me back in the car."
I shrugged, too annoyed to say anything. Why couldn't she leave me alone? Wasn't it enough that I was already going along with the plan? That I didn't commit suicide or run away like I had been contemplating? That I was actually trying to be civil and polite, in an uncivil and impolite world?
"Bella!" she sort of barked, "I'm trying to help you!"
Hell no she wasn't. I narrowed my eyes at her and tried to calm myself before I yelled something I would regret later.
"If you really want to help me, just let me be," I sighed, "Just for once. Let me handle things on my own. I'll get around, eventually. I just want every one to let me be for a while. That's all I'm asking."
I said all of that in one breath, and it seemed like she believed me. She gave one tiny nod and walked away. I felt like shrinking into the wall.
After smoothing out my breathing, I walked towards the table in which my parents and Thing 1 and Thing 2 were sitting.
"Hi," I said, smiling as brightly as I could without overdoing it, "Sorry for the lateness. I hope I didn't create an inconvenience."
I think I spoke through my teeth, but I wasn't particularly good at lying, so it was a miracle I actually managed to say something. Whether I said something smart was another issue. I'm not even sure you can create an inconvenience…
At least the doc seemed to buy it.
"Don't worry, Isabella," he said, smiling warmly at me, "We understand."
Wow. He was a much better liar than I was.
Thing 2 didn't buy it, though. He just ignored me, looking down at his menu.
I rolled my eyes, and then took a seat next to the doctor. Because there was no other seat available. And I definitely wasn't going sit next to Edward.
"Bella, what would you like?" my dad asked me. I shrugged, and continued to stare at the painted ceiling. I wondered why the angels wore white. Why white?
"Bella, you have to order something," Charlie insisted.
I tore my eyes away from the ceiling to look at him apologetically.
"But the waiter's not here…" I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders innocently. My dad's expression switched from calm to annoyed in a second.
"I know that, Bella," he said firmly, "But when he does arrive, you have to have picked what you wanted to eat."
I nod at him, as if I was actually paying attention, when I was really just flashbacking to my religion class, when they explained the colours and their meaning.
"So what would you like?" Charlie prompted. I sighed, because I was so close to remembering what white stood for.
"Lasagne," I said automatically. Whenever I wasn't in the mood to eat anything, I always ordered lasagne. It was my eat-when-you're-not-hungry food.
Both my dad and mom threw me a look, but otherwise said nothing. They knew my lasagne technique.
After the food arrived, I stopped staring at the ceiling and started deciphering the patterns in the tablecloth. Black square, white square, black square, white square, black square, white square…
"Bella?" some voice said.
I looked up to see Edward staring over my shoulder. I turned around and my jaw nearly dropped down in shock when I saw who was standing behind me.
"Jacob?"
He grinned at me; a smile that never seemed to falter, and sort of had a light of its own.
Then it hit me.
It really was Jacob! God, I hadn't seen him in years. He had gone off to Harvard, and I hadn't seen him since.
"Oh my God, Jacob! You're back!"
I couldn't help shouting. The excitement was just too much. I leapt up from my seat and engulfed him in a hug.
"God, Jake! When do you stop growing?" I asked him playfully. He always seemed to have gotten a growth spurt. My arms could barely wrap themselves around his neck.
"Honestly, I don't know…" he said seriously, then laughed, "My professors say it's not normal."
"Of course not," I said happily, "Nothing about you is normal."
He looked a bit hurt for a second, until I added, "You're the greatest and most wonderful person I've ever met! That's really not normal!"
Jacob's grin got impossibly bigger, and I felt my heart warm up. God knows how much I missed him.
"Would you like to join us?" Renée asked, bless her. Jacob seemed a bit doubtful, looking at Edward and Dr. Cullen, but then I wrapped my hand around his and smiled up at him. "Join us."
He nodded, smiling. He took the seat next to Edward, and I switched places with my dad so I could be next to Jacob.
"So how's life?" I begin to ask him, but then my mum clears her throat. Right. Introductions.
"Hi everybody," I say lamely, grinning like a fool, "This is my best friend Jacob. Jacob, these are," I gesture, "my parents, Dr. Cullen, and his son, Edward."
"Pleased to meet all of you," Jacob says sweetly, "I'm Bella's best friend."
I laughed at that, locking eyes with Edward briefly before looking away. Suddenly I felt a little light-headed.
"Hello Jacob," Dr. Cullen said warmly, smiling, "I'm Carlisle Cullen. I believe we have met before."
Jacob looked puzzled for a bit, but then exclaimed, "At Harvard. You were one of the head-in-chief doctors. Man, you're an example to follow!"
He shakes hands excitedly with Carlisle, and then Carlisle presents his son, "Edward," he says.
"Hi, I'm Edward," he says, smiling for the first time that afternoon, "And I'm the example-to-follow's son."
We all laugh, but I'm sort of dazed. I shook my head slightly and took a bite out of my lasagne. Wow. These actually taste good once you take a bite.
"So, Bella," Jacob says, poking my shoulder, "How'd you meet Dr. Cullen?"
"Ummm," I clear my throat, "…At the hospital."
Jacob looks quizzically at me, and then bursts out into laugher.
"Figures, Bells," he laughs, "What'd you do this time? Trip over a rock?"
He stares warmly at me, teasing.
I blush crimson, remembering. I did trip over a rock once.
"No," I say, "Asthma attack."
Jacob shuts up then, and looks apologetically at all of us at the table. "Seriously, Bells?"
I nodded.
He sighs, shaking his head. "Oh, Bella. I leave you for a few years and you're already getting yourself in trouble."
"Hey, it's not my fault," I said, punching him lightly in the arm, "Tell that to my lungs."
He looks serious and sort of scared for a while, but then lightens up and grins.
"One of these days, I'll take you to my practice," he promises.
I grin at him, "And I'll get to see how you dissect a frog?"
Jacob had an incident with a frog when he was in sophomore year; he was supposed to be dissecting a frog, but as soon as he cut it open, he fainted. I never let that go.
"Ha ha, Bells," he says, embarrassed, "As a matter of fact, you will get to see that, and much more."
Jacob was studying to be a doctor. I was actually quite proud of him. I didn't think he'd ever get over his reaction to blood.
"Good job Jake!" I said, giving him the thumbs up, "People would actually pay you to faint over them!"
Jacob grinned, trying not to show his embarrassment.
I cut it short there because I was really not inspired.
Hopefully, I'll get the time to write more soon!
Review!
P.S. Today's the premiere of HARRY POTTER AND THE HALF BLOOD PRINCE! HAPPY!