Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all.
Rated M for several reasons.
Chapter Five Consistent
RPOV
Something's bugging me, kind of gnawing at me like a rat, no idea what it is though so I'm gonna choose to ignore it.
Dad drops me at school my first day back and I realise at least one thing that's bothering me, I'm anxious about seeing Em again. What sort of anxious I'm not sure but I feel a little sick, like I did the first few times I saw him.
No one seems pleased or displeased to see me in the first couple of lessons which is okay, a few people ask if I'm feeling better but only Angela actually cares.
My sick stomach knots up a bit more as I make my way to lunch, I don't know what to expect and I don't like it, I'd much rather expect nothing.
Ben is busy whispering in Angela's ear at our usual table but she waggles her eyebrows at me and jiggles the chair next to her with her foot.
Okay, cool, good.
I grab a slice of pizza and then join them.
Ben commiserates with my recently flu ridden self and Angela gently teases me about the weight I've lost but despite their easy welcome I'm still hyped up.
Which just gets worse as the lunch period ticks by with no sign of the Whitlocks, maybe they just aren't in school today . . . .
...
"Sun." Angela groans, falling back against Ben and stretching her legs out.
"Only just." I gripe, it's so weak I don't see how it counts.
"You're spoilt Phoenix." Ben drawls.
"Yeah." I sigh, flopping down beside them. "The stories I could tell you about real sun tanning Ben, they'd blow your mind . . . ."
Angela laughs and kicks me with her foot.
"Enough Rose, he's a simple Forks boy, let's not give him any ideas."
"Hey! I have ideas." He growls, flipping her under him and tickling her mercilessly.
Ew. Time to go try out for track . . . .
Rosalie Hale. Highest, longest, fastest.
Such a shame the local weather is fairly sure to cut into our training time.
Oh well.
...
The next morning the rain is back and so are Em and his truck.
"Your chariot awaits." He says as I slam to a stop on the porch.
I'm not sure what the fuck is going on in my stomach but I don't like it.
"I have legs." I inform him.
"Yes." He laughs, cocky again. "I have noticed those."
"Then you will notice them carrying me to school." I drawl as I stalk past him.
...
Lunch, and the Whitlocks are back, apparently not remotely bothered that if looks could kill their brother would be twitching his last on the craptastic cafeteria floor.
I don't know what my problem is with him all of a sudden but I don't seem to be able to hide the fact that I have one.
His constant cocky smirk really isn't helping either, I've an almost irresistible urge to smack it right off his handsome face.
...
"Not volleyball again?" Bella enquires as she slips into her usual spot.
"No. I'm branching out too."
She raises an eyebrow and I turn back to my book. No way am I telling her that I got thrown out of class with a clump of Jessica Stanley's hair in my hand because she'd sweetly asked me if I'd broken up with Em.
No one is waiting for me when we get out of detention and I'm fine with that, the walk is good for my calf muscles.
I toss the note from Dad in the trash and make myself a 'leftover supreme', something I can pick at while I watch TV and pretend to do my homework.
...
Em's truck in is my driveway again the next morning and I throw him a wave as I stride past it.
...
And the next.
...
And the next.
...
Saturday.
I lie in, curled in my blankets with my laptop, gladly letting the internet suck out those brain cells.
Dad's at work so I eke it out till lunchtime when my stomach urges me downstairs for a bowl of cereal and ice cream.
Feeling noble I head back upstairs to gather up all the washing, dumping it on the landing so I can kick it downstairs when I'm ready, so what if I commentate on my performance while I'm doing it, entertainment should be taken where you find it. And so what if it takes me ages to sort the mess out afterwards, what the hell else am I going to do?
Good, two neat piles. Whites in the washer, colors and darks waiting to go in. What now?
I wander back into the kitchen, maybe I can find something absorbing to cook for dinner?
I chug down a glass of water while I peruse my very slim recipe card collection, the freezer is full of fish, surely I have something for that, if not I'm sure my very packed day could accommodate a trip to the store, as long as it's not raining.
I set my glass down to check out the window. It isn't. But Em's truck is parked in the driveway.
How long has he been out there and what the hell is his problem?
I wrench the door open, careless of my rumpled PJs and haystack hair.
He's leant against the side of his truck.
"Rose." He says, turning to greet me. "Looking lovely as always."
I brandish my middle finger at him, which makes him laugh.
"I was planning to head into PA this afternoon, I wondered if you wanted a lift?"
"There's a bus."
"Yeah." He chuckles. "A bus. You missed it."
"I don't need to go into Port Angeles."
"Neither do I, that isn't the point."
I narrow my eyes at him and he stares back at me with a complete lack of embarrassment.
"Fine. I need half an hour."
"I'm okay right here." He responds.
Good because I am not inviting your ass into my house.
...
He cranks up the music as I climb into the truck and throws me that cocky grin as he backs out onto the asphalt but he doesn't appear to want to talk about anything which is fine by me.
School is a short trip from my place so this is the first time I've really seen him drive and he's fast, which I approve of, my Dad's so slow I can feel the wrinkles forming every time he takes me somewhere.
It's cold in here and I shiver, causing him to turn up the heating and point the center vents at me.
Mmm, that's more like it . . . .
I close my eyes and bask in the warm air and the beat of the music, tapping my toes, it's been so long since I've danced, I used to love to dance.
Port Angeles is once again packed, with tourists as well as those of us who have escaped Forks for the day.
We exit the truck and stand on the sidewalk looking at each other.
Awkward.
"So, Mr That Isn't The Point, what do we do now we're here?"
"Shop?" He suggests with a grin.
"What do you shop for?" I ask him, curious.
"Cars, car parts, electronics, video games, athletic equipment, camping gear, occasionally socks."
"You are such a boy."
"Aw, Rose." He chuckles. "You noticed."
I swat at him but he dodges me easily and we set off with him telling me things I do not need to know about his new favourite video game. I have decided to suspend my misgivings about agreeing to this trip, my gnawing sensation that there's something I'm not seeing and my oddly sick stomach for the day and just go with the flow, there doesn't seem to be another way with Em anyway . . . .
We shopped for boy stuff, I watched him sniff colognes while I pretended to shop for makeup, anything to work out where his incredible scent comes from. We hit the arcade and he beat me at every single game we tried, which was annoying, and we ate a late lunch at a kitschy tourist place overlooking the water, which was, nice.
"What now?" He asks as we emerge into the last of the afternoon sun.
"We ought to get back." I sigh, watching the weak light on the water. "I have chores to do."
He laughs.
"Sorry rich boy, but some of us have to pick up after ourselves and cook our own dinner."
"Want to catch a movie before we go?" He asks, watching me carefully.
My stomach flips over.
I'm having fun, I don't really want this afternoon to end, not with two piles of dirty laundry to head back to, but this isn't a date, I can't date . . . .
My heart starts hammering in my chest and my breathing picks up.
"Rose." His gentle silky voice forces me to look at him. "You mentioned wanting to see this movie at lunch the other day, we're here, its playing, if you promise not be grossed out by the amount of junk food I'm going to consume while I watch it why don't you come see it with me?"
"Em, I . . . ."
"Its not a date Hale." He snorts, flashing his cocky grin at me. "Credit me with slightly more smooth moves than that."
He doesn't want to take me on a date?
I'm confused . . . . and a little disappointed.
Oh hell, I knew this stupid boy was trouble, why can't I just go with my instincts . . . .
"Look Rose." He says with a smile. "Its real simple, you put one foot in front of the other till we get to the movie theatre, you let me buy you a ticket and any sweet treat you fancy, you park your butt in a seat and we watch a movie. When the movie is over I'll drop you home and we can both do our chores. Can you manage that?"
I scowl at him but he just keeps smiling, damn him.
"Okay. Fine. But I want ice cream."
"No problem."
Jeez, ungracious much there Rose?
...
Sunday we establish that Dad has been holding out on me and can actually cook edible food. He is not, however, able to iron anything other than his uniform.
On Monday I am neither surprised nor freaked out when Em picks me up for school, it honestly hadn't occurred to me that he wouldn't.
And I'll need to think about that.
I used to have a BFF, back in Phoenix.
She and I went everywhere and did everything together, for years.
We had fun, graduating from dolls and make believe to shopping and socialising in the same way all little girls would do. We discovered boys together, discussed them endlessly, learned their mysterious ways and learned not to take them too seriously so they wouldn't interfere with our fun.
One day I told her something, something that had been bothering me that I'd never told anyone else.
She hugged me, she cried with me and I thought, for a minute there, that everything would be okay.
But it wasn't.
She was the first person to let me down but she wasn't the last.
There's a reason I'm the way I am.
...
"Here we are again." Bella giggles as she joins me in detention.
"So it would seem."
"You okay?" She asks, studying me thoughtfully. "You seem even more, um . . . ."
"Bitchy than normal?"
"That's the thing." She laughs, apparently not remotely put off by it.
Seriously is there no end to the weirdness of these gold eyed Whitlocks?
I shake my head at her and then slump over the desk, might as well get some shut eye while I can.