Chapter 6: About a Cougar

I woke up that Saturday to Paramore on my radio. There is something/I see in you/It might kill me/But I want it to be true. As I stretched my arms and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, cozy thoughts drifted through my head of curling up with my copy of Pride and Prejudice and a cup of tea. Then I saw Alice pulling outfits out of her closet and holding them up to me. And I remembered.

Shopping. Whee.

"Bella! You're finally awake! For a moment I thought I wouldn't have enough time to dress you," she complained.

"Alice, I'm perfectly capable of dressing myself, thanks." The prospect of spending hours flitting between department stores didn't help my morning mood.

"Fine, but I get to pick out some shoes and at least two camis for you." Well that's just fine. As long as she didn't go overboard.

I took a quick shower and blow-dried my hair, pulling the waves up into a messy ponytail. I put on my normal shopping clothes, a pair of capri-length workout pants, a tee-shirt that said "Kiss Me, I'm Irish," and a pair of black flip flops. I stepped out of the bathroom, grabbed my purse and said, "Alright, I'm ready."

"Bella, no! You can't go out in public looking like that. I know I said I wouldn't dress you, but this is awful!" Alice squeaked.

"Alice, I'm being realistic. These are my economy clothes." Alice gave me a puzzled look. "I mean these are the clothes I wear to shop in because they're easy to put on and take off when I'm trying things on."

"Oh." Alice sounded disheartened at my practicality. "Well, let's go get some coffee and get on the road. We have to meet Rose at the strip at 10:00."

-X-X-

I was so ready for lunch. Alice had managed to make me get a whole pile of clothes I didn't need. I was able to get my new jeans, though that was the only thing I had actually needed.

As we pulled up to the restaurant, a little bistro named "La Bella Italia," I thought about my narrow escape from a pair of shoes I would have certainly regretted: a strappy set of pumps that were shiny silver and bedecked with beads. I shuddered internally.

We were led to a booth by a man who flirted a little with Alice and Rosalie, but that didn't bother me too much. They were, after all, beautiful. Alice's slight figure and short, spiky chestnut hair made her look fun and bubbly, matching her personality incredibly well. Rosalie, on the other hand, was long, curvy, and had long auburn tresses running in waves down the length of her back. I envied them, a little.

We ordered our food and drinks, and I started listening more intently to the conversation Rosalie and Alice had been having since we walked in the restaurant.

"No, Rose, I don't think I would like that. I'm more into guys that are quiet. I think he would… balance me out in a way. And I would just die if he had a southern accent and called me 'ma'am.' It's so respectful and gentleman-like. And if he could sing…"

"I'm just saying," Rosalie interjected, "that I would be lucky to run across a guy who could protect me, but made me laugh, too. And he shouldn't be too polite. Then he would never touch me. I just want… a man who would look scary to others, but I would know he's just one huge teddy bear."

Alice continued to disagree with her. "Well, that may be for you, but I don't know…"

"What about you, Bella?" Rosalie asked before Alice could go on. I was caught off guard somewhat. There was really only one man I could think of that I had ever dreamt of having. And I'd only… met… him once.

"Any boys we should know about? From high school or from over the Internet?" she prodded.

"Uh, no. I have plenty of guy friends in class and stuff, but I'm not interested in anyone."

"Oh, c'mon Bella! Please?" Alice piped in. "Don't hold out on us!"

"W-w-well…" I stammered. Their eyes began glowing at my hesitation. I wasn't about to tell them, was I? "There's this…one guy I met once."

They both leaned closer, whisper-shrieking, "Tell us!"

"Okay. I only…saw…him once, for about two minutes. But he's the sort of guy I think I could fall for." They both stared at me expectantly. "I didn't actually talk to him," I copped out. There was no way I was telling them about the kiss. Or that he was a – gulp – vampire.

I was able to recoup and organize how I was going to phrase this when the waitress brought our salads and sandwiches. I smiled politely at her and murmured, "Thanks," but Alice and Rosalie continued to stare.

"Spill." Rosalie commanded.

"Fine, fine." I drew in a deep breath. "He was mysterious, just really mysterious. He was elegant and very well built. I could tell he had defined muscles, but he wasn't bulging like those gross-looking body builders. You know the ones that are so lumpy that they look like skin-colored sacks of potatoes?" Both of them laughed, and I felt more confident to continue. This was the first time I'd really felt like I had girlfriends. "He seemed to have a wild edge to him, though he was really clean-looking."

"Ooh, Bella likes the bad guys!" Alice conjectured.

"No, no. I don't think I could stand those cocky guys that think they're tough. With those guys, they're afraid to open up to you or talk to you about anything. Those kind are way to physical."

"I'm confused, then," Alice said. "What kind of man was he?"

"Let me think how to say it," I asked. I closed my eyes and tried my hardest to remember every detail I could about him – his black eyes, his angular, glorious face, the animalistic edge to his movements; his hard muscles. The most important thing, though, was the feel of him. When my arms had grabbed his neck, it was like there was no way I could have moved him, but he just moved because I touched him. And his lips. Kissing them had been like kissing steel, covered in soft silk. The velvety hardness of those lips reminded me of a wildlife reserve I had visited once.

"I want a cougar."

"A what?" They both asked.

"A mountain lion."

"We know what a cougar is, Bella," Alice retorted. Then she said softer, "We just don't know what you mean." I could see they were actually interested in what I thought, not just wanting to gossip with me like high school girls swooning over cute boys.

So I explained. "He should be noble, majestic even. And he would be midway between a softie," I took a sip of tea, "and being too tough. You know how cougars are just beautiful, and graceful in a powerful way. He would be like that until he gets angry, if he has to protect me. Like when a mother cougar protects her babies. He would turn completely feral. And he would be glorious."

Alice and Rosalie sat with expressions that were amazed by my confession, and Alice had paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. "Good luck finding that guy, ever," Rosalie murmured.

"Yeah, what are the chances?" I replied.

We ate in silence for a while, until Alice couldn't stand it anymore.

"Well, what would he look like? Surely he didn't have whiskers and fangs."

"No," I half-lied with a nervous chuckle. "But he wasn't very tan. He was kinda pale, but he pulled it off. And he had wonderful bronze hair that was…what was that style called?"

"Afro?"Alice suggested.

"Comb-over?" Rosalie added with a giggle.

"No, no, wait. Was it a mullet?" Alice squeaked with laughter.

"Actually," I said, "I think I heard it called 'Casual Disarray.'"

"That's hot." I rolled my eyes at Rosalie's comment.

"Oh, I know what you're talking about! Like that one guy in that one movie," Alice said.

"Ooh, I think I know the one you're talking about…"

From there, we all started talking about celebrities and movies we liked. I was surprised how natural it felt to just be chatting with them.

For the first time since I came to college, I felt like I had girlfriends. I smiled at the idea, and thought it would be really wonderful if we wound up getting married together, having kids at the same time, living as neighbors.

But, then, why would I be so lucky?