All for Me, to Me, You Sue
Chapter 7: Choices

"Dad," I announced as I slipped through the doorway, "I'm home."

I set my bag aside on a table near the entrance. It was a waxed, wooden table with expertly carved drawers and silver vine handles that my mother had bought for the house when it was just newly purchased. She had a wonderful taste in home decorations. Her taste was unique in a way that it was antique – not exactly old-and-dying, but classical designs and furniture, all of which centered on wooden things. Having been surrounded with my mother's ideas for a good half of my life, I almost didn't have a choice but to prefer things that way, too. It was one of the few things she and I have in common. When we purchased our new home in Arizona, we'd gone crazy in IKEA, driving two shopping carts that we quickly loaded up with pillow cases, framed artwork, kitchen utensils, bedspreads, bathroom equipment, and the works. All in a day's hurry and excitement to get our hands on the house, we went home that night not knowing where and how to begin. I smiled inwardly as I replayed that night over in my head. Instead of burying ourselves with as much work as we could manage at night like we planned, my mom ordered in some Hawaiian pizzas, dragged a big, empty box in our empty living room, and then got out some playing cards, with which we played over who acquires the master bedroom. She lost, but then redeemed herself by winning over kitchen duty, from which point I began responsibility over lunch and dinner five days a week. It wasn't until she met Phil that she volunteered to cook more often, excusing me by saying that there's more than just the two of them now, so it was only fair. With that, I decided that I needed to remodel and rearrange my less-than-endearing room sometime.

I stripped myself out of my soaking jacket and didn't fight back the sudden heat that snuck onto my cheeks at the thought of the reason why that was so. I buried the thought of it deep in the back of my mind for now, hoping I could get by around Charlie without any questions asked. But my heart was not as convincing. Within my chest, it ached with the desire to burst out and release its pet butterflies that it caged inside my stomach. I had to think about breathing in order to ensure that I was even doing it right.

"Bella?" my dad called from the living room and I heard the frantic noises of his seasonal sport.

"Yeah, dad, I'm sorry I was late," I mentioned as I passed by him on my way to the kitchen.

He peered over in my direction as though to ensure it really was me and then hung his elbow against the body of the sofa as he watched me. "Where did you go?"

"Um, out with Callum," I hesitated a little, but otherwise knew that dad wouldn't mind. Ever since my mental breakdown, he'd been extremely encouraging and non-parentally lenient about my absence in the house.

"Oh, yeah, that kid," he said thoughtfully to himself. "Well, how is he?"

"He's good." More like kissable enough.

"That's good. Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah, it was fine." – bless the word for having covered only a portion of the night – "He took me down at the same café he did on Saturday."

Charlie laughed, turning around on his sofa once more after muttering, "Smart kid."

At least they had that much in common – an addiction toward my belittlement. And then I remembered my burning question for Charlie about the Chandlers, but seeing as time was ticking – it was only and at the same time, already seven o'clock – I decided to postpone it to another time – I could only wrestle with my heart for so long, after all.

I arranged Charlie's dinner half-heartedly. Memories and thoughts thronged bestially through my mind, each brawling for my undivided attention. And it was an effort to ignore them all.

In the hurry to isolate myself alone with my thoughts, I fixed Charlie a Prego spaghetti dinner. He was never very picky, perhaps because he was used to his microwavable, calorie-rich diet when he was living alone. To live alone – what could that have felt like? Especially knowing that you have family – they simply weren't there with you. Though I'm much more alike with my dad than I am with my mother and I know he doesn't exactly delight in crowds like I don't, I can't help but be certain that that kind of separation must have embedded a feeling of loneliness in him. How had he handled it? Being alone… Could we have been alike enough to have acted the same way when we were both deserted from what we thought would be our future?

I sighed. That wasn't exactly the kind of turn I would have liked my mind to make in exchange for a more pleasant memory, like something that might have happened recently. The quiet ting of the oven saved me from my thoughts, and I carefully took out the tomatoes from a sizzling tray. I diced them in small chunks and threw them in the pan where the Prego was beginning to look edible. I drained the boiling water from the spaghetti noodles and poured the content in a bowl. I stirred the Prego, peppering it before I emptied the pan in another bowl. After fixing some spaghetti on a plate for Charlie, I added some grated, mozzarella cheese and set it on the table. I washed the pans and the tray I've used and saran-wrapped the extra bowls of noodles and spaghetti sauce, and stuffed them in the refrigerator.

"Dinner's on the table for you, dad," I said, grabbing my bag from the table before I flitted up the stairs.

"You're not having dinner?" he asked, his head in my direction but his eyes glued on the television.

"No, I already had something to eat with Callum," I lied.

"Oh, alright, then. Thanks, sweetheart," he called.

I exchanged my bag with my clothes on the computer chair, athirst for a warm shower. I tilted my head up in the direction of the showerhead and closed my eyes, surrendering myself to my thoughts at last. The first to overcome all, with little surprise, was Callum. Within only a week, he was able to rid me of my insecurities and my fatal fears, and melted himself to completely freight himself in the void from my past. Through the clever remarks and interminable gibes, how has he found such a hidden passage to the most sensitive part of me? Everything feels so easy with him – to laugh, to smile, and to be myself, no matter if that meant being emotional or being the bitch I find myself being most around him. A part of me has always known that that was because I felt my guard crumbling at the sight of him and the sound of his voice, and so I'd unconsciously obligated myself to bar him away.

I reran the scene of our kiss over and over in my head and my heart didn't tire from subjecting to the stupendous feeling it permeated my body with. It was such a familiar, yet distant feeling – one that I remember having cherished unconditionally once before. But it was somehow different. They're two different people with such unworldly similarities at the same time. Except Callum would never acquire the need to abandon what we have possibly – somehow, with our kind of jocular relationship – woven for the same reason Edward had. This ran a course of comfort inside of me. How had love discover me – if that is what this amateur beating of my heart is implying of my feelings for Callum – amidst the flood of tears I've spared for it once before? Love was a burden, an impossibility – that's what I've built my fortress to believe so that it may stand its ground.

I ran my hands down my neck and through my cleavage before dividing them against my waist. My mind automatically drew a picture of our kiss once more and I grasped my hips where he'd pulled me closer to him by. It was still so graphic in my memory – every second of every touch. The insanity of the rain and the clement experience of his hands on my body, his lips on my lips. And I'd kissed him – Oh, God, I'd kissed him. He's driven me to the brink of fortitude – or had it only been absurdity? I brushed my finger across my lips and then bit my bottom lip softly. This ridiculously congenial feeling that sets my heart aflame – all a residue of that man's kiss.

About a minute too short into the kiss, Callum had wormed his hands against my arms and leisurely pushed me away. His movement had been so gentle that I didn't linger at the absence of our kiss for too long. He held me with his mesmerizing gaze, which were still as ardent as before, but with which the look of yearning was now combined. There was also a hint of struggle swirling in the depths of his eyes as he leaned his face so that it was adjacent to mine once again. His mouth gaped open half an inch as he tilted his head, seeming to take in my scent as he curved his way so that we were nearly kissing once more, his eyes shadowing the point to which his lips were on. But he didn't touch his lips with mine. And I didn't care. It was enough that he held me in place, with both his hands and the addictive motion of his face near mine. He was trembling and his hands gripped my arms steadily to the point where they were almost hurting me – almost; it seemed as though he was conscious about his actions, however much of an effort he had to put forth so that he may be. Finally, he closed his eyes and simply touched his forehead with mine. I closed my eyes with him, bathing not only under the hefty downpour but also within the enigmatic pleasure his mere presence catered me with. And with a simple, darling kiss upon my forehead, he was gone, and I watched with satisfied ease the silver vehicle dissolve into the night.

"Bella," I listened to the whisper of the wind.

"Bella."

It rang swiftly among the forest, dancing along with the chimes that nature made. The trees offered gentle, fluttering sounds as the wind bypassed them. The sun glittered high up in the sky, merely peeking its way to the forest ground through the grey clouds. And then a figure stood upon the limelight of the sun in the center of the green meadow. It shimmered brilliantly and shot rays of eminent sparkles around it. I narrowed my eyes to penetrate through the luminosity and slowly made out the structures of a man. He was smiling, that much I could tell. But then a scarlet glisten shined upon his face and slid down his cheek. It echoed through the forest once the gleaming droplet gravitated on the ground, like a tear upon a pond. A tear— A tear?

I awoke suddenly, but otherwise quietly. I sighed – that was different. Nothing came to mind when I racked my brain for a plausible meaning to my dream, and I easily shrugged the thought away.

"Good morning."

I jumped and instantly turned around from my truck in response. And there he was, swift as always to the point where I hadn't even noticed him anywhere nearby when I parked my truck just moments ago. "Callum!" I exclaimed, irritated. "Don't do that!"

He chuckled, and I was helpless again. "You mean, greet you?"

"You know what I mean," I scoffed at him.

"Do I?" he said softly with a smirk as he leaned closer to me by a menacing inch. "Well, would you rather that I greet you good morning another way, Bella?"

I opened my mouth to say something – something hopefully witty – but my voice didn't cooperate with me. And neither did my mind. Consciously, I wanted to tell him off, but a more natural part of me held me back, struck by the truth in his words. No more than two minutes with him, and he's already got me feeling impotent. I grimaced and inclined my face away from him, certain that a blush has penetrated through my brittle cheeks. That is just fantastic. I crossed my arms across my chest, shivering slightly on purpose as though to disguise my blush as means to the weather.

He only chuckled once more and then reached out his arm, gently snaking it around my shoulders as he planted a placid kiss upon my forehead. "Good morning, Bella," he whispered against my ear, the coolness of his breath tickling me lightly.

"Mm," I surrendered, twisting my body so that my coat brushed against his sweater. "Good morning," I managed to say back.

He smiled at me enchantingly before expressing a hint of concern in his eyes. "Are you cold?"

"Just a little," I admitted.

"Bella," he groaned in jest, "What did I tell you about kissing some irresistible fool out in the rain?"

"You're right, you're right. He is irresistible," I grinned at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he raised both of his eyebrows in response. "Alright, moving on."

I laughed. "Aw, I don't believe it – he's actually being modest." I feigned a gasping expression.

He laughed with me. "You're a brat," he stated as he slid his hand down to my own, curling his fingers to fit the spaces between mine. I was only too willing to do the same with his. We plodded our way to first period, continuing to mock and ridicule each other on the way, but otherwise made no effort in erasing the smiles off our faces.

Just before we entered the classroom, I saw a glimpse of Jessica near the cafeteria with Angela. Angela looked mirthful, while Jessica simply looked downright dumbfounded, her mouth shaped into a perfect "o" as she stared at us in ecstatic disbelief. Calculus doesn't have a chance against her questions now.

"When?" Jessica asked in an investigative yet impatient tone. Her eyes smiled with her lips excitedly.

I groaned. "Last night."

"Where?"

"The parking lot…"

She squealed. I knew her next question would be here ultimate favorite: "How?"

I shook my head with an incredulous smile. "How? What do you mean, how?"

"You know what I mean. Come on, Bells, how?" she urged.

"It just, happened."

"Okay, okay. Well, who kissed who?"

Ugh. I should have known she'd ask. I drifted my eyes away from her, and she faster than instantly got the picture.

"No way!" she almost yelled, and some pairs of eyes turned to investigate the commotion. "Sorry," she mumbled quickly to them before turning back to me. "Oh my goodness, that's just adorable! And did he respond?"

I glanced at her and she got the picture again. I was glad to know she wasn't being slow today – I didn't want to directly admit as much as possibly.

"Okay, okay. That was a stupid question, you're right, but Bella, that's so precious. I knew it – Didn't I tell you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Now, please, spare me," I begged, "This isn't exactly the most comfortable topic for me."

Jessica sighed. "Alright, I give, but you are going to update me. This is the most exciting thing that's happened since forever," she exclaimed – exaggeratedly, I'd say.

I smiled at her direction and she smiled back at me. I'm not the best when it comes to friends – usually, I favor my time alone – but it was still nice to know that, even so, I've still somehow acquired some of the best, most understanding friends someone like me could possibly have. It wasn't my expertise to handle talk about nails and fashion trends – overall, I'm inexcusably bland and a pathetic excuse for a girl. To think that Jessica – or any of my friends – has endured such an empty friendship with me truly meant a lot to me, especially with all the cliques and high school labels. Back in Arizona, I only had one true friend, and even we didn't really do much outside of school together. It was even worse back there – students segregated themselves from those who are any less like themselves like people divide mathematical problems. It was one of the perks here at Forks, a reason enough for me to appreciate this poorly weathered place.

Lunch was a little awkward – as expected – what with all the knowing glances Callum and I were getting from our table alone – just imagine the female population who lost their minds in the sight of Callum within the entire cafeteria.

"So I guess this means you're sixty bucks short, huh, Bells?" Mike pressed.

"Not necessarily," Callum stated then, "She's still being difficult."

"You mean, reasonable," I countered. "I'm not going with you or anybody. I'm not going, period – final, done."

"But you've still permitted me the chance to change your mind, at least," he reminded me.

"Yes, a chance," I emphasized.

Callum rolled his eyes. "Amazing."

Mike laughed. "You guys sure click."

"Don't we? I'm patient, she's stubborn – it's an altogether well-suited combination," Callum remarked and I simply rolled my eyes. So he was right – whatever.

Mike just laughed again.

"Well, I think it's cute," Jessica said then, and she smiled at me.

"Hardly," Callum said in a mild scoff, "The girl just threw herself at me. I was completely without defense."

Oh, that is it. "Oh, please—"

"Well, would you deny it?" he challenged.

I grimaced. "And what did you do – run away?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," he smiled at me. It was a smile that eliminated all the humor in the atmosphere, and preempted it with that of a fairytale. I blushed – like I had a choice. Jessica, Angela, and even Lauren blushed inevitably with me at the sound of his words, like he'd been addressing all of us when he spoke. Mike and Tyler grunted at their obvious lack of attention. I glanced away from him quickly, not wanting to feed his ego, but just before I did, I saw him jump slightly as though he'd just noticed all the drooling eyes that were on him and blushed as he turned away from the attention, as well.

"May I ask what you have planned for the rest of your afternoon?" Callum asked casually as he leaned against my truck after school.

"I think you may," I smiled at him. "I'm contemplating whether I should look around for some furniture, but I don't know where to begin. I hardly know Forks, even with all the time I've been here. As far as I know, it doesn't even have such a place for that kind of stuff."

He smiled. "Sure, there is. Not exactly at Forks, but there's one around the neighboring town. Would you like to come check it out?"

"Probably not right now."

"Why not?"

"I haven't got any money with me, first of all. Second of all, I'm not even sure if the money I do have would be enough. And third, I haven't really thought about what I want to do with my room yet."

"So you're remodeling your room? Well, how would you like your theme to be like?"

I smiled. "That's easy – classic."

He smiled back at me, more beautifully than mine or any other normal person's. "I know just the place. Come on," he urged.

I stared at him skeptically. "What do you mean?"

"We're going out to fantasize your room, of course. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Well, yes, but like I said—"

"And like I said, we're going. So come on; we'll take my car."

"But, Callum—"

He leaned forward and kissed me softly on my forehead. "Bella."

Would this boy ever give me a break – or a damn choice – from his hypnotizing manners? I swear he knew what he was doing and what he's capable of – I swear of it. And it will be my absolute end someday.

I sighed, closing the door to my truck in silent defeat. I felt bad that I often let it wait for me recently.

"Hey, do you think we could use my truck?" I suggested.

"Hm? Well, I suppose that would be a good idea, what with all the furniture you're going to buy," he agreed.

"What? What furniture? Callum, I said I don't—"

"I'll take care of the expenses."

"Not happening," I fought.

"It is so," he argued.

"No," I finalized.

"Why not?" he almost sounded hurt and it only proved to plant guilt inside of me.

"I don't like that idea."

"Bella, just this once, won't you let me take care of you?"

"And why should you have to?"

"I don't… not yet, hopefully," he replied slowly.

I looked at him in surprise and utter mayhem. "What do you mean?"

He glanced away from me, his eyes once again revealing a war that raged inside of him. And then he averted his gaze back on me, and I saw that his eyes were liquefied in such a warm stage of deep, golden yellow. It intensified at my view and I could feel his breath scattering. An impeccable smile collected on his impeccable features as he brushed the back of his fingers against my cheek. He sighed softly as he closed his eyes momentarily. I inhaled deeply at the tender reaction of my merely human heart to his godly presence. I still can't quite familiarize myself with the feelings he gave me.

"This is kind of silly," he began, allowing a soft, tiny chuckle to escape his delicate lips, "especially after everything. I know it hasn't been that long since we met—"

Oh, no.

"—and I know this is kind of silly—," he sighed, shaking his head for a moment, "I already said that—Ugh, what I'm trying to say is—"

Please don't.

"Or I mean, ask you is—"

Don't…

"Bella, I like you – falling beyond reason for you. This may not be the place – or more than that, I may not be the guy – but, my sweet, I'll find a way to make it right, if you'd give me the time of your day and a space in your life. Bella—"

Please…

"Will you be my girlfriend?"

Welcome to Chapter 7 And now, for updates: we're really beginning to get cramped up in moving, but fortunately, they haven't made any specific plans about the computer yet. So I was able to present you guys with yet another chapter, which I'm hoping you guys liked. I felt a little rushed, to be honest. But before I forget - SharniB, whoa now. Careful with my heart there, missy. That was so incredibly sweet. And Pontas-Metallika, once more, you are awesome. Thank you guys for the reviews! Hopefully, I can work through another chapter before "the time", our ever-so informal name for the date when they take away my computer. Ex's & Oh's - handwritten