Truce

"Hey," came a voice from behind me in the parking lot after school. I knew instantly that that was Bella. Why she was talking to me, I didn't know, but I thought of it as an opportunity to get some answers to my questions. So I turned around to face her. "I just wanted to say thanks. For that day last week. For being concerned," she said.

"That's it? That's all you wanted to tell me?" I wondered. Couldn't she have just waited until the next day at rehearsal? Why track me down?

"Look, I know most people think that I'm a bitch," Bella admitted, "but, really I'm not. I'm just intolerant. I'm thanking you so that you're not hanging around me for the next few months thinking that I'm an ungrateful little slut. So thank you for your concern. And just for future reference, I can take care of myself." Just like Jasper had said.

But instead of a declaration of her independence, it sounded more like a defense. I had this way of reading people, and while Bella was a lot harder to read, I could tell that what other people thought about her mind and what really went on in that frightening bundle of thoughts were two totally different concepts.

The thought of Bella on defense gave me a great idea. I knew that what I was about to accuse her of was nowhere near the truth, but if Bella was in a mood to defend herself, she could prove me wrong. With whatever information that she gave me, I figured I could try to piece it together myself. I came up with the best accusation I could find.

"I think I know why you don't date," I began. Hoping my plan would work as well as it had in my mind. Maybe once I was "accidentally" in on the secret, I wouldn't be so hated by her.

Bella let out a sarcastic giggle.

"And why do you think that is?" she wondered, an evil little smirk playing across his face.

"Because you think you're too good. You think that you're better than what people think you are. While you're not a bitch 100% of the time, you have to admit, sometimes you are. You think that you're too good for anyone here, or anyone anywhere. You think that no one deserves you," I rambled. During my little rant, I watched as her face transformed from maniacal humor to horrified pain. Her flesh turned from her abnormally pale shade to a rose red in a matter of seconds.

Her face went stiff and I didn't even see the hand that slapped me. Out of shock I slapped her back.

That had been a bad move. Next thing I knew, I had a bloody nose and I was doubled over from a harsh blow to my gut. When I finally felt like looking up, Bella was looking at me in disgust with eyes full of suffering.

"I come here to thank you and you throw shit at me. I shouldn't even have to tell you how messed up that is. And don't think you know the first thing about me," she ordered, before storming off and leaving me there on the pavement

Emmett couldn't get over the fact that I had gotten beat up by a girl. He had been laughing about it all night. Sometimes I wished that idiot had chosen to go to some bigger University rather than the community college. But heaven forbid that would mean leaving Rosalie.

While Emmett was busy laughing at my expense, I couldn't get over the question that Bella's suffering eyes brought to my mind.

I had known that whatever made her think that men were a lost hope had to have been scarring, but I never thought it would be so catastrophic that it would cause that much pain. A pain that Bella always tried to hide.

I never thought that Bella could be wounded by words, but somehow I had managed to throw in the jabs. As far as I knew, I was the only person who had found the right words to say, the diction of lightning that struck hard. Her one weakness--whatever it was--and I had found it...and still didn't know what it was at the same time...

Whenever she seemed confident to others, she seemed defensive to me. Ready to take on anyone who challenged her. You could have your own opinions without making her mad, but the instant that you question her motives, you're in a world of pain. I was currently resident of that particular world and was trying to find my way out of it with multiple ice packs.

Why did she go to such lengths to conceal her hurt? I didn't make sense. One would think it would be easier not to use all of that effort just to hide the truth, even if it showed that you had weaknesses. Everyone had weaknesses. Why was Bella afraid to be human? Why did she strive to hide everything that made her what she was? If it was part of her past, it was her past, it was behind her; she didn't need to worry about it now. And if it was something going on in the present, she could, as she had pointed out, take care of it herself.

I had done exactly what I had promised myself I wouldn't do. I had given Bella a reason to think that I was just as terrible as every other guy on the planet. If not worse. Because while she had been going around accusing us, not one of us had even bothered accusing her. Until me.

In her mind, I was the king in a land of womanizers, jackasses, and every other selfish, greedy, indecent man on the planet.

And I was going to do everything in my power to make that change.

But there was no way that I could just wave a wand and make everything that I had said just go away. And even if I could, I probably wouldn't. For two reasons. A) Guys look goofy with wands. And B) It would just show Bella that I think I'm righteous, that I think whatever I do wrong won't go without consequences. As if the bloody nose hadn't already teach me that.

Not to mention that Bella was sure to spill everything to her little buddies and they were bound to form a kind of boycott against me. I was locked out for a good long while. Especially by Jasper.

For the next week I didn't do anything about the barrier that Bella put between us during Chemistry. I didn't try to make conversations with her before or after rehearsal. If I still believed in Santa I would think that this would qualify for moving me onto the "nice" list.

The weekend was rather relaxing. While my mind was still engaged with thoughts of Bella, I knew there was nothing that I could do about it. At school, I knew that, if I dared, I could talk to Bella and try to settle things. But I didn't have Bella's phone number, so I couldn't hold it against myself for not trying to fix things at the current moment.

On Saturday I decided to jump in my Volvo and go for a drive. It had been a while since I had just driven around town. Not like there was much of a town to drive through, but with the play, rehearsal had me so busy that the 3.1 square miles seemed like Chicago or something. Maybe more like Portland, but it still felt larger than usual.

Somehow I found myself in the school parking lot where Bella and I had had our last conversation. Confused as to why I went onto autopilot and ended up here, I got out of my car and walked to the curb. Pulling a cigarette and my lighter out of my pocket, I sat down on the wet concrete.

The cigarette was about half gone when I heard the unmistakable clunking of a 1952 Chevy pickup. The only one that existed in town was registered to the one person that I desperately did and didn't want to see at the same time. A few seconds later, I spotted it chugging along the main road. I could almost feel Bella's eyes burning a hole in my forehead as she passed the school. I could tell that she was keying my Volvo in her head, or--knowing her--something worse.

But a few minutes later, I heard the same abominable noise come from the other direction. Turning my head, I saw Bella steering her truck back in the school's direction. Dread washed over me as she turned into the parking lot and pulled up next to my car. Fear followed when she stepped out and slammed the ancient truck's door behind her. Absolute horror finished me off when she sat down beside me.

"You know, if you keep smoking those, you won't be able to sing for the show," she casually brought up, not looking me directly in the eye. In fact, her eyes pretty much remained on the ground.

"I don't smoke all the time. I probably go through a pack every two months. They help me relax sometimes," I explained, returning the gesture of no eye contact. We sat there awkwardly silent until my cigarette burned out. I threw the butt on the pavement at my feet. "So. Did you just drop by to say hello or what?" I asked dully.

"When I saw you sitting here, I decided that I would clear the air, since apparently you weren't going to," she commented. At that moment I felt like everything I had done had just gone to waste. All of that trying, the stress, making in onto Santa's nice list. She really had wanted me to apologize.

"Forgive me for having a sense of self preservation," I requested. She finally looked directly at me, a glare burning from her eyes. "What? You can't honestly say that after giving me a bloody nose and knocking the wind out of me that being around you wouldn't constitute a concern for my health."

"Well, whatever the reason was, I just wanted to get a few things on my side of the line straight," Bella began. Great. We were back in elementary school with the lines. Here's your side, here's mine. Don't cross it and don't touch anything on my side. "I don't think that I'm better than guys. I just personally don't appreciate the way that the vast majority of them act. With the rare exception of someone like Jasper. It's like hating someone who's equal to you. I don't know how else to put it. I guess you could compare it to cats and dogs. There are cat people, and there are dog people. That doesn't mean that one is better than the other. But unless they were raised together, cats and dogs don't get along. I'm kind of like a cat that's been taught that dogs are vicious, mean creatures. It doesn't mean that all dogs deserve to be extinct, but I'm not going to go out on a limb to wind up being attacked," she compared.

So I had sort of been right. Bella had been protecting herself in a way. The only thing that I still needed to know was why.

"You know, I really didn't mean what I said about the whole, you thinking that you're better, but it's nice to know part of the reason why you might not exactly like me," I told her.

"If you didn't mean what you said, then why did you say it?" she asked. It was a simple question, but the hardest one possible for me to answer. I took a deep sigh before replying.

"Honestly, I was just trying to get to a deeper explanation than the one you just gave," I responded. "Like, who taught you that we dogs always bite? What kind of lessons did they teach you to drill it in your head?"

"Why didn't you just ask?" Bella wondered. As if it would be that simple. After all, Jasper didn't even know.

"Like you would tell me," I laughed.

"You're right. I wouldn't," she agreed, almost laughing along. "Here's the deal. I don't want to have to pretend to be in love with you if I really hate your guts. So to prevent that, I just wanted to set some guidelines. You don't bug me about my personal life, and I'll do my best to work with you. That's all that I ask," she posed, holding out her hand.

"Truce?" I questioned.

"Truce."