*Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 6: Delirum
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There's a tree outside my window that needs to be cut down. If my life were a movie, maybe someone would climb it. But there is no rolling camera with a director shouting "Action!" behind it, and the only person I wish would sneak into my window uses the front door as he pleases.
I can handle the storm outside. The clawing scratches on my window are what get to me. It's like something is trying to get in.
Harsh piercing sounds—you would think I lived in a horror movie.
The day I tried to ignore has turned into a lonely night. I'm dramatic and uneasy, mindless yet dwelling. I'm scattered, edgy and just fighting through.
I managed to zombie my way through school, and I even made an appearance to support Emmett at the homecoming game.
I saw them there, Edward and Angela. She so innocently sat a row in front of him. I saw him lean forward and put his hand on her shoulder while he pointed out something on the field. Their relationship doesn't appear to have reached a romantic level, but still, it's the friendliest I've ever seen him with anyone. Everyone, that is, but me. I've known him to be much friendlier with me. Maybe he really likes this girl, maybe before he actually liked me. Or maybe he doesn't actually like anyone, and he's playing his games with her now. Her, instead of me.
This day is hours, minutes, and seconds as I feel each and every one. There are no distractions. The slow ticks of time are blaring in my face.
In this moment, I should be all prettied up, twirling around and spinning through love. Earlier, Rose texted pictures of her and Emmett all ready to go. Her mom spared no expense. Rose's mom dotes on her for events like these.
If I were going to the dance, Rose would have curled my hair or twisted it up. I'd have painted my nails shimmery blue to match the dress I don't have.
Charlie might even have wanted to take a picture, but probably just one. There would be no one to ask me to pose or do eleven retakes. No one would tell me to stand closer to my date or to relax a little. No one would let me borrow earrings that hold meaning, or spritz me with perfume for special occasions.
At least, I think Charlie would take a picture, and Rose would help doll me up.
I would have that and be grateful.
Although, if I went to the dance with Edward, Esme may have doted on the both of us. I think she would approve of me. She seems to genuinely care about me. She would probably take many pictures and fuss over Edward's hair. Maybe she would help fix me up a bit too.
I would like that. Someone to make sure I have everything in place. I don't blame others who are annoyed by their parent's attention. I would trade for such care. I would prefer to be annoyed by too much than lost with none at all.
Esme probably doted on Tanya. The thought makes my stomach churn. Edward's dad, Carlisle, probably kissed Tanya's cheek and shook Edward's hand with pride. He probably rented them a limo too.
I feel so cheated.
I go downstairs to the den. I don't know why I've never thought of retreating here before. I lie on the old battered couch.
There's a hammering ache behind my eyes.
I wonder whether or not Edward pulls out the sofa bed.
There's a small coffee table with a few photos. I peer over because I don't remember which ones they are. Me and Emmett in muddy rain boots—I must have been around eight. There's another young one of me in an orange one-piece running through a sprinkler.
I wonder if these photos make Edward think of me as just a kid. I should take new ones and change them out, or at least add to the display.
The newest one here is from the Fourth of July barbeque—Rose and I on one side, Jasper, Edward, and Emmett on the other. We were around fourteen, and it must have been taken before I unintentionally got drunk for the first and only time. I think I may have told Edward he was pretty that day. However, I also remember belting out serenades for him, which Emmett later informed me happened on the ride home as well as through the night before I fell asleep. I vaguely remember other alcohol-induced fantasies from that day, but Edward only brought it up once, and I avoided the subject out of embarrassment. I wonder how he reacted if I did in fact, tell him he was pretty.
The room is fairly bare, otherwise. There is only a stupid singing fish on the wall that luckily no one changed the batteries for. The power drained quickly anyway with Emmett's love of dancing and singing along.
There's another small table in the corner, almost behind the couch. It holds a few ceramic figures Emmett and I have made for Charlie over the years. And there's my school picture from last fall. I didn't realize Charlie framed it. It's actually a decent photo of me. Slightly younger than I am now, but it would be better in plain sight than young child me. When I pick it up, I notice it's filled with fingerprint smudges, so I take it to the kitchen to clean the glass.
When I return to the den, I set the frame on the table where it can be easily seen from the couch.
It's a subtle attempt—that may have no effect—but I'm saying, "See me. Love me."
As I make to leave the room, a piece of fortune cookie paper on the floor catches my eye.
Live your life out loud.
I flip it over, and on the back, written in bubbly girly writing, is a phone number and the letter M.
I almost envy the girls with the confidence to ask him for a chance. I wish it were that easy for me to just give Edward my number and see if he calls. If he does great. If not, move along.
Why does he have to be so gorgeous? All these girls want him for what they see. I wonder if Angela cares about his feelings. I wonder if she sees how he strives to be the best at everything for everyone but himself. Does she know that his parents just want him to be happy, but he works his hardest to make them proud? That he does it for all of us? He makes us all happy whether or not it makes him happy.
My phone chimes. A text from Alice: The darkest storms bring the brightest rainbows. Hang in there, sweetie.
She gets me better than the people who know me. Thank God for Alice.
I smile for the first time today.
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The only light in my room is the soft glowing blue from my computer screen. I try to block out the whistling wind as I sit at my desk in the corner to email him.
Edward,
Is she everything that makes you happy? I haven't heard you give her pretty lines. Do you save all your real words for her?
I want to move forward and stop looking back. Maybe I don't deserve you. Maybe you want someone else, but in the end, I know no one could possibly love you the way I love you. I don't want to give up on you, on us, on everything I believe in.
Saved to drafts.
Pitter-patter raindrops. The clouds are dark and sullen; apparently, I control the weather.
Edward,
So back and forth I am with you, and you don't even know. I hate that I love you, even though you treat my feelings so casually. I don't wish that you felt the same way. What I wish is to know how you feel. I hope it's the same, and I don't wish for feelings that aren't there, but I still hope they are. There's more to my life than you. I know that. So why is it so hard to just live, and not forever pine for you?
Save to drafts. No.
Edward,
Wherever you are, whoever you are with, I just hope you are happy. No matter what it entails.
Forever loving you,
Delete.
Lightning flashes. Thunder booms. My heart stops with each sharp, rumbling crack.
This is as hard as I knew it would be. Loving so true, but holding back. I'm not the one he needs. My wants and needs stay locked up tight. He doesn't need to know. At least I told Alice. Thank God for Alice.
Lightning completely lights my room. Then, rumbling thunder bangs. There is no time in between to count the distance. Meaning there is no distance, on top of everything, now I need to worry about being struck by lightning.
The branches are screeching against the glass. It makes me cower every time. I should just open the window and embrace the whistling wind. I could spend the night caught up in the storm from right here in my room.
Finger taps, and my door is opened. I'm too lost in my delirium and the storm to be startled.
"Hey, I tried to call you." I look around for my phone, but I have no idea where it is or if it's dead or alive. I don't search for it; if anyone wants to check in with me, they can call the house phone.
"Why does Edward think you're at the dance with Tyler?" Jasper asks, but I just shrug.
I guess I never told him I wasn't actually going with Tyler. It probably wouldn't have changed anything if I had.
"Why aren't you talking? You're freaking me out." He leans closer.
I don't find words. I don't trust my own words, or those of others. Why speak?
There's a red, broken blood vessel splatter on Jasper's neck. I wonder what it feels like to have someone suck on your skin like that. Is it intimate or just physical? Does it come from a place of want or need? I wonder if Edward liked receiving his and if he sucked on Tanya's skin too. No. I don't need an answer for that.
I reach out and touch Jasper's neck. The skin doesn't feel any different where it's red. No bumps, no change in temperature. Just skin. I can't tell if it's brand new or days old. I don't know this kind of thing because I've never been the giver or receiver of a hickey.
"I want one," I say, my curiosity getting the best of me.
Jasper grimaces and looks at me like I'm crazy, which I obviously am. He looks in the mirror on my wall to see what I'm talking about. He either forgot about it or didn't realize it was there.
"It's fine. I'll ask Eric Yorkie or whoever—I don't care," I tell him. I just want to know. I don't need to persuade someone.
He steps toward me, placing his hands on my waist and his mouth on my neck with kisses that are feather soft and barely there. If this is what Tanya did to Edward, I hate her even more.
"Not on my neck," I say, hoping there's not already a mark. I'm not trying to broadcast what I'm doing; I just want to know for me.
I raise the hem of my shirt a few inches to reveal an area of my skin that is rarely exposed. He hesitates, and I wonder if I've asked him to do something he's uncomfortable with, but then he pulls me over to my bed. Maybe that will be easier than standing.
I lie back, and he hovers over me. I stare at the ceiling so this doesn't become more than it is. I know he's done this many times before. I feel more light kisses, like a whisper on my stomach. I don't think this is called for, but maybe it is. Then I feel my skin pull and prickle, but it doesn't really hurt.
Then his fingers on my sides start to really tickle, so much that I can't help trying to wiggle away laughing. His mouth pulls harder, and his hands tickle faster.
Now we are both laughing, lying side by side.
But then it's not really that funny and the laughter trickles off. His eyes gaze into mine like he's found something, and his hand reaches up and pushes back my hair, but then it stays in my hair.
You'd think we were caught up in a moment the way he's leaning forward; it's like one of those times you could just blame on the circumstance. With the way I'm panicking inside I know this isn't a special moment. He moves so slow I could stop this, probably even without wounding his pride. What Alice said rings in my ears; maybe if I don't do this I'll regret it someday when it's not an option. Yeah, we've kissed before, but that was more him than me. As much as I should move, turn my head, or say something, I don't. I lean forward and kiss him first, instead. It just feels like warmth and lips.
I want to want this. I should want this. Where it isn't always push and pull. Where it's calm and steady. If this was what I wanted, I wouldn't love so high and crash so hard. This can't hurt me.
I open myself to all the good in front of me. He's always been here, whether I knew I needed him or not. He doesn't really get me, but maybe he doesn't have to. I look into his eyes, and he is staring intently back at me. I close my eyes, and with everything I am, I try again. This time it isn't so soft and sweet. It's frenzied, faster, rolling back over me. I like this. I could do it all night. But then I realize I'm not thinking about Jasper. All I'm thinking about is the act of kissing, and that I like it.
I stop and sigh.
I can't be steady blue when my heart flutters green.
I don't feel nervous, but this may be awkward. I smile up at him, and he smiles back with a laugh under his breath as he falls back beside me.
For the first time, I realize this may have been wrong. Not for my sake, but for his. I know how I feel, but I never thought he might feel different. He doesn't have someone like Edward to base his feelings on.
"Do you think I'm respectable?" Jasper props up on his elbow to talk to me.
"Why would you think you weren't?"
"Edward's philosophical bullshit."
"What did he say?" I pick at a loose blanket string and try not to react when I hear Jasper tell me Edward's words.
"If I keep up with unrespectable girls, someday I'll want a respectable one who won't deem me respectable." Jasper lies back down, facing the ceiling.
"That makes sense, but I still think you're respectable. Edward's just different. That's probably why he's into Angela Weber now, because he respects her."
"Huh... Yeah, I guess so. I always just thought he was a prude, but maybe there's more than just hooking up. Leave it to you to decode Edward. You both are so cryptic." His thoughts have pulled him into a long trance-like revelation he needs to sort through.
"I respect you," he says.
"I respect you too."
"Do you ever think about us being together?" His expression appears more curious than hopeful.
I ponder the fact that I don't think about us being together, more than I think about us being together.
"Do you?"
"No, not really." He rubs his hands over his face.
Relief.
"Good. I don't either." This won't be as awkward as it could have potentially been.
"I would, though. if you wanted to try, I would try." His sincerity is heartwarming.
"Thanks you, but I know what would happen. We would try for the sake of the other and never stop trying for the sake of the other. Someday you'll meet someone you actually want to be with."
"Someday you will too. Can I still sleep here though?"
"Yeah, nothing's changed."
"Can I kiss you?" The gleam in his eye tells me he's kind of joking, but kind of not.
"Tempting, but probably not a good idea."
We lie down in the usual too-close-for-comfort-or-breathing sort of way.
"So you like Tyler?"
"Psshh. No."
"Edward said if I didn't figure out my feelings for you soon, I would lose you to Tyler." I fight the urge to ask Jasper to elaborate on how exactly Edward said this and what brought it up.
"I may have led him to believe I liked Tyler because he's confusing and speaks in contradictions."
"Good thing you're not into Edward. You both live to confuse."
I'm not confusing. I don't want to be confusing, but being straightforward is risky.
Jasper pulls out his phone and begins actively texting.
"Who are you texting?"
"Edward. He needs to know he's wrong. He thinks he has everyone figured out, and he makes me question shit, but he is wrong." Jasper seems beyond annoyed.
"What does he think he knows?"
"Everything."
Jasper's phone is tossed to the side, and I'm surrounded in arms that hold too tight. I count warm breaths as they hit my neck to avoid thoughts that won't let sleep come easy.
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.
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I wake up uneasy. Homecoming is over, and today is the first day of my new direction. Angela's not the first girl to stand in my way, but she will be the last. If she's what he wants, then I have to start working on moving on. If there is the remotest chance he likes me, I will find out today.
Charlie's in the mood to grill and be social. Emmett is in the mood to make that happen. I just need to find my inner light-hearted flirt and let Alice analyze my findings.
Dressed in my shortest shorts and tightest tank, I gloss my smile and steady my breathing. I need confidence from the inside out.
I walk down the stairs to where Emmett, Rosalie, and Jasper are planning what they will need to get from the store.
"Edward wants to bring Angela Weber," Emmett says. Jasper laughs, probably because I made him aware of Edward's feelings last night.
"Cool, she's legit," Rose replies.
They are traitors, all of them.
I go straight back up to my room before anyone sees me.
I pull on the biggest sweatshirt I can find. That's me, carefree, confidant flirt, masked by a baggy sweatshirt. But I swear if Edward and Angela are not officially together I won't hide behind the sweater.
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A/N:
Still with me?
Thanks everyone who helped me with this chapter: dazzled eyes22 and thunnababy pre-read.
RaindropSoup and EdwardsMate4ever beta'd
Thanks for reading and for all the alerts and reviews.
I'd love to hear what you think.
