The Beginning Of After
Summary: My name is Vanessa Swan, four years old. My Mommy was raped when she was thirteen, and that was how I was made. This is her story.
Chapter Six: Vulnerability
Disclaimer: In my dreams, Edward is murmuring to me that I'm the owner of Twilight.
Bella
Seth's hazel-like eyes were wide, evident horror rising up to highlight the terror of which he seemed to display. I pursed my lips, not wanting to question him. I knew how it was like to hear things you have been desperately trying to keep at bay.
Vanessa, though, seemed oblivious. "Mommy, doesn't he look like Jake?"
It was the truth. Comparing Jacob Black's round face with Seth's somewhat muscled one, they resembled one another closely. With the exception of their eyes–Jacob's was black–they looked like brothers at the most.
This would be the period where I was supposed to be scorned. Why would I have to tell my secret if he did not want to tell his? But I'd chosen to keep my mouth shut instead. Seth would tell me in his own time and pace.
Opening my arms in an effort to take Ness from Tanya, I cradled her against me. From the way her eyelids were vastly drooping, my daughter would be asleep within a few minutes.
"Thank you, Seth," I looked up at the gangly teen, "for everything. You as well, Tanya, I could not have asked for better friends than the two of you . . ."
His eyes distinctively looked towards his girlfriend, who now had one hand on his shoulder, squeezing it. She gave him a look before pulling me towards her, with Ness acting as a barrier between the awkward hug. My baby giggled at the contact before her plump lips opened into a round 'O.'
Next time, I shall get Dad to interact more with her, so that she wouldn't be so tired staying up for me. This was wrong; she needed her rest.
My usual, inner voice was quietly agreeing with my assessment. It was more maternal than self-imposed.
"Anytime, Bella . . . call me if you need anything, okay? Do you have my number?" Tanya asked.
I nodded, and she audibly relaxed. Turning to my daughter, whose eyes were halfway closed, I whispered to her ear, "Say goodbye to Aunty Tanya and Uncle Seth, sweetie."
She immediately perked up, "Bye-bye Aunty Tanya, Uncle Seth!"
Tanya let out a laugh, smiling warmly at her before touching her soft cheek. Seth grinned–albeit shakily–and mussed her hair. Dad's presence behind me grew edgier as the minutes passed. Even though I could not see his face, I could tell that he was worried by the way Seth was acting.
I would not say that I trusted them with my life per se–perhaps something less extravagant than that. Although I felt guilty for this, I could not help it. After everything that has happened to me, I found it extremely difficult to give my trust away.
How do I trust when I have forgotten how to?
"See you, Chocolate. Bella . . . we'll pick you up on Monday?" Seth grinned at Ness before smiling tentatively at me. He met my gaze, courage displaying in his hazels. I gave him a small smile in return, appreciating his trying to act normal; it was not an easy feat.
Also, Ness seemed to love her new nickname. She loves chocolate nearly as much as she loves me and her teddy-bear.
They piled out, Tanya waving out at us. Her blond hair still shone even in the dark, and towards my daughter, you would think that she was a life-sized Barbie doll.
"Mommy," my daughter yawned, "Grandpa already gave me my bath. Do I need to bathe again?"
I kissed her hair and brought her in, ignoring my father's persistent gaze. "No, sweets, Mommy will just take a quick shower, and then we shall go to sleep. Or if you want, would you like to sleep ahead of me?"
She pulled back, her chocolate brown eyes wide with surprise, "No!"
"Baby, you need your sleep." I gently chided her, touching her heavily lidded eyes. We were at the foot of our bed now, the night breeze blowing in through the opened windows. It was frosty.
"You need it more," she whispered as I laid her down and tucked her in. "I haven't seen you so tired, Mommy. I'm sorry."
"Vanessa Swan, what are you sorry for? You haven't done anything wrong, my petal." Heart clenching against her worried expression, I immediately blamed my own self for showing vulnerability in front of her.
She did not need to suffer alongside me.
As she bit her lip–a habit she had picked up from me, I assumed–she mumbled, leaning into the feather pillows, "It's nothing."
I eyed her doubtfully, not fully trusting her words. "Ness–"
"Yes, Mommy, I know. I shouldn't lie to you, because lying is bad. But, sometimes, you're different, Mommy. Sometimes you become sad. And I think it's my fault."
"It is not you, baby. Mommy is just really . . . tired. But whatever happens, I'll always be here for you. Vanessa, you are more important than anything else. I love you, even more than my own life."
There was certainty coloring my tone, passion and sheer love for my daughter overshadowing the grief that presented itself. I would only tell her about the truth when she was old enough to understand.
I could not help but feel the slight pride that I would be the one bringing this amazing girl up. She was precious, a diamond in a rack of jewels. Nothing else compared to her.
My baby looked up at me, eyes shining with innocence and sweet lullabies. "I love you too, Mommy." And then she touched her locket and smiled, "More than my own life."
The night passed by sleeplessly. My mind kept on playing games with me, endlessly replaying the memories I had garnered today. It felt as though I was watching a movie from the way I had woken up, to wishing for normality, and then hitting the climax.
Edward Cullen . . . we were friends now, were we not? So why was it that I could not wait for the next day to pass by quickly?
The racing of my heart indicated that I was not merely anticipating it; I was thirsting for it. This frightened me, for I have never felt immensely towards any other person other than my family.
Sunday passed by uneventfully, with thoughts of Seth, Edward and of course, Vanessa, running through my mind. They seemed to swim around in elliptical circles around my head, making me feel giddy with annoyance.
Ness spent the day playing with Dad and her toys. Sue was not due until tomorrow and while my daughter's voice echoed throughout the dull house–there could not have been any other words to use–I spent my time wisely.
Sitting in the living room with Dad and Ness, I did my homework, double checking it when I was finished. The essay we had to do in English was simple enough, and it was only Trigonometry that I had slight difficulty with. I just could not get the sums in my provoking mind.
But nevertheless, with Vanessa singing a song she had heard from Barney, I found enough inspiration to finish off the work load. It was, however, only four in the afternoon.
As though on cue, my phone chimed from its place beside me as I combed through my baby's wet hair–she had just recently taken a bath. It was still warm today, and I wanted to go outside and breathe in the clear, untainted air.
Ness had other ideas, though. She seemed to be absolutely exhausted from the day before, thus my staying inside the house with her.
Bella, the text read, what did you write your essay on? I need your help ASAP! –Tanya.
I chuckled once; Ness turned to look at me. Giving her a quick kiss on her forehead, I resumed combing through her brown curls as I simultaneously texted Tanya back. I wrote about whether or not William Shakespeare's treatment of women in his stories is misogynistic. –Bella.
The reply came not seconds later. You do know that I have absolutely no idea what you just said? –Tanya.
I do, that is why you should read more of his works closely. –Bella.
All right, fine. You win. See you tomorrow. –Tanya.
Snapping my phone shut, Dad turned to me, asking, "Who was that?"
"Tanya," I answered, "She wanted to know what I was writing about in my essay."
His expression almost seemed . . . satisfied. Dad's smile was wide, though not entirely different from the smile he always gave his grandchild. "I'm glad you're starting to make friends, honey." He mused, watching Ness fighting back her drowsy eyes.
"Baby, why don't you take a nap?" I told her, holding her sleepy body against mine. She shook her head–curls bouncing wildly–and murmured, "Later I won't be able to sleep."
Dad cut in, "Sure, do whatever you want, Ness. But my bets are that you'll be falling asleep in less than six seconds."
I laughed, watching my daughter as she made a face at my father. Then she reached over to pat his hand, stretching as she moved to take a seat on his lap. My arms instantly missed her small, warm body.
"Mommy?" she asked from her place in Dad's arms.
"Yes, baby?" I turned to look at her, halting from my half-standing position; I was just about to head into the kitchen to prepare dinner. "Is something wrong?"
"No . . . do you miss Gran?" her question –innocent and carefree –threw me off-guard. That simple, easy question unleashed the pain I've so guarded myself against. Turning around so that Ness wouldn't see the tears that threatened to explode, I cleared my throat.
"What would you like to have for dinner?" I asked instead, desperate to avoid the question.
The truth was that I missed Mom, exceedingly. There was not a day that passed without me wishing she was beside me, guiding me. Four years ago, the word 'Mom' was merely just that, a word. It held no significance.
I remembered the last day I saw her so clearly. It felt almost surreal and unbelievable, but it was the truth.
And I could recall it with ease because the day that Mom and Phil died, it was my birthday.
"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy, Mommy! Where is Nana and Poppa?" Vanessa exulted, almost bouncing with excitement. For some reason, whenever someone's birthday arrived, she could not seem to contain her energy. It was as if it was her birthday rather than that specific person's.
Today was the day I would be turning seventeen. Quite an accomplishment, if you ask me. I never thought that I would be able to last this long in my current state of mind.
"They're on their way, sweetie. Now stop moving about, you might get yourself hurt." I warned her, sticking out a hand for her to hold. She was jumping around, full of life and energy.
I had no more friends. Two years ago I had stopped going to a public school. Instead, I got myself home-schooled. That was during the night, however, and my day was spent in Wal-Mart, working for the benefit of both me and my child.
"Poppa Phil said that they're going to bring home a big, big cake! Will it be as big as my cake was, Mommy? I remember that we couldn't finish it, and had to give some to Mary-Anne from next door. I think she's angry at me, Mommy, for having such a big cake . . ."
Mary-Anne was the six year old little girl that lived with her aunt –also known as our neighbor. She was constantly bragging about the items her architect mother and father would buy for her. It was sad, though, for they seemed to travel a lot, thus neglecting her.
The little girl was forced to stay at home with her mother's sister. Louise was a great woman, intelligent and independent–the kind of woman I wanted to model myself after. But yet she was foolish; she believed in love.
I never could believe in it any longer. My feelings betrayed me. I could not be allowed to love any more.
"Why would she be mad at you? Do you want me to have a chat with her?" I said sharply. Just because Mary-Anne was jealous, it did not mean she could go around bullying my daughter. I will not tolerate it.
Ness looked scandalized. "No, no! She's okay sometimes. I just don't like it when she starts talking about how great her daddy is. She says it's too bad I don't have one. I don't mind, though, Mommy. I have you!"
And then she kissed my cheek sweetly, laughing with happiness. I grinned and hugged her closer, feeling her body cozy up to mine. "Thank you," I told her.
She smiled wider, her chocolate-brown eyes growing big with admiration, "Happy birthday, Mommy. I love you so much!"
"I love–" My words got interrupted by the sudden rapping of the door. I frowned; Mom knew where the hidden keys were. If she had lost her own pair, I was sure that she'd take the one underneath the doormat.
So perhaps it was Phil, arriving earlier than Mom.
I bit my lip, an awful emotion overwhelming me for a split second. What was going on? Why did I feel like something bad was going to happen? Dread and uncertainty labored under my feet, dragging me down. Ness sensed my sudden tension, her hand squeezing mine.
Peeking through the peep-hole, I jolted back, pushing Ness behind my legs as I tried to recover from the shock. It wasn't Phil standing behind the door, but it was a police officer. He was standing with one of his colleagues–a woman–and their faces were grim.
The slow, ticking clock did not match my hammering heartbeats. What were the police doing here?
My mind immediately leaped to theories. Were they going to take Ness away? Had James escaped from the prison he was confined to for fifteen years?
And then I began begging in my head. Please, please, I heard myself plead, please don't tell me that piece of news. I can take whatever, but please don't let the Monster anywhere near me or my daughter.
I opened the door unwillingly minutes later, my heart still drumming heavily against my chest, forcing my ribs to give in and break. My daughter whimpered with agony as she looked up at the officers; she was trembling.
Bending down to pick her up, I glanced swiftly at them. Their faces remained impassive.
"What can I do for you, officers?" I asked them, slightly distracted by Ness's intense breathing on my neck.
The woman looked at her companion, whose frown only deepened while he started noticing the similarity between my baby and me. She turned back to me, her eyes grieving, "I'm afraid it's what we can do for you, miss. Your mother, Renee Higginbotham Dwyer, and your stepfather, Phillip Dwyer, met with an accident earlier today, at approximately six fifteen in the evening. They were pronounced dead on impact."
Her words cut through me and I felt as though I was shattering, breaking, erupting . . . my mother . . . dead . . .
I shuddered from the memory, rebuking myself. Why on earth did I have to recall it now?
My mind–excellent at pushing back the pain and unwanted memories due to past experiences–distracted the rest of myself by cooking. I tried to recreate the Mexican dish of enchiladas. It was not easy chopping and dicing the onions, especially when my eyes were already watered.
As for the peppers, I tried not to get too carried away and add in too much. I was not sure if Dad could take it, or if my daughter could even stand the extreme degree of heat that wafted from the cooking pan.
I heard footsteps and smiled when Dad sniffed the air, "Smells good, Bells. Glad to know you didn't inherit your mother's expensive taste for experimenting."
Ah, now this, I could withstand.
"Thank you. I was beginning to think that you have forgotten about Mom's fine cooking skills." I replied wryly, turning to my daughter and giving her a quick wink. She giggled and her wonderful, seraphic face that looked so much like a doll stretched into a brilliant grin.
Dad questioned, "It's not too . . . spicy, though, is it?" There was a little bit of worry in his voice, but he did a great job of shielding it well.
"Of course," I tossed the contents of the pan into one large plate sitting on the counter. Steam rose from it, engulfing Vanessa into the smoke. I heard her laugh, her tiny fists swirling through the mist.
I was pleased that she was so bubbly all the time. This way, she would not have to forego reality. I would do everything to shield her from the entities that could hurt her.
Night came, and along with it, the excitement and eager rush to see Edward Cullen held me against my will. My baby slept peacefully, her head on my stomach as I leaned against the pillows, watching the dream-catcher shine in the bright moonlight.
Eventually, I allowed myself to fall back into my dark dreams. Places I did not want to revisit surfaced, whispered words I hated to hear haunted me, and the faces that I had been urgently banishing from my mind surged through my unconscious state . . .
Finally, it was Monday; a brand new week for me. I reflected on my first week here in Forks, amused by how quickly and filling it had become. Would there always be dramatic gestures for every week? I haven't gotten a clue.
The air was frosty; chilly. So after I had finished showering, I pulled on my normal jeans and a jumper. Hurriedly stuffing my one and only jacket into my arms, I strode past my bedroom and into the kitchen, where Sue and Dad chatted cheerily.
Ness was seating on a chair stacked upon another. Beside her, Seth and Tanya talked animatedly to my baby, who looked delighted at her newfound friends. As though she could sense my presence, she perked up.
"Morning, Mommy!" she beamed at me.
I bent down to give her a quick kiss on her combed curls, smiling. "Good morning, baby. Did you sleep well?"
"Mm-hmm, I dreamed about Mandy being the queen again!" her voice was irresistible like honey. "Aunty Tanya and Uncle Seth told me that she can't be a queen 'cause she's only a teddy-bear," she grimaced, "but you believe me, right Mommy?"
"Always, baby. Finish up your waffles, honey." I nodded, preoccupied by forcing down as much granola bars as I could. "Don't wanna. I ate too much, Mommy. Do you want them?" she asked, looking down at her stomach as she rubbed it gleefully.
"Aw, aren't you going to leave me some?" Seth suddenly pouted –his rough voice light and teasing. Tanya and Vanessa laughed while I cracked a tiny grin. "I thought we were friends, Chocolate."
Seth touched a hand to his heart, looking devastatingly hurt. My daughter's eyes widened, guilt creating the start of tears in her brown eyes.
"No!" And her voice was just too heartbreaking that even I put down my fork. I reached for her and stuck her into my lap, all the while giving Seth a malevolent glare.
I rubbed my hands up and down her miniscule back. Frowning, I realized that she really needed to gain weight. So while Seth tried to make amends with her, I reached for her plate and began cutting the pieces into small squares; the way she enjoyed them most.
"Baby, here," I cooed gently, wrapping my forearm around her waist as I waved the fork near her mouth. She looked up and smiled that familiar, strengthening smile of hers.
Vanessa managed to finish her plate, with much help from Seth, Tanya and I. Dad and Sue kept to themselves throughout the entire breakfast period, making me wonder what was happening between them.
"Done?" Seth asked once I had finished gulping extensive loads of milk. I nodded and shifted slightly, whispering into Ness's ear, "Sweetie, Mommy has to go now."
She turned the force of her marvelous chocolate embers on me. "I'll miss you, Mommy . . ."
I kissed her on the cheek twice, feeling the piece of me that always shed itself from my undiminished being whenever I had no choice but to leave her. "So shall I, sweets, so shall I. But I'll be back before you know it, okay? Mommy loves you, Ness, very much."
"Love you too Mommy," she sighed, her eyes miserable. I chewed the corner of my lip, frowning, wishing that I could make things up to my daughter. She may hide it, but I could tell she was hurting.
"Tell you what, baby, when Mommy comes home, why don't you and I go to Port Angeles and have some ice-cream? Would you like that?" I was on my knees, looking deep into her eyes. It brightened in sudden elation as she nodded eagerly.
She cheered, "Uh-huh! I want chocolate!" I laughed as her babyish tone colored her words, immediately soothing my tattered insides. "Mommy will get you a double-scoop. And perhaps, if you remain a good girl, I'll add in the rainbow sprinkles as well."
"Oh! The sprinklies! I love those! I'll be a good girl, promise!" Her face was now completely void of the misery she'd showcased minutes ago.
I quickly hugged her and whispered in her ear. "Listen to Sue, baby. I'll see you in the afternoon." Then she smiled brightly, throwing her arms around my neck as she gave a sloppy kiss to my cheek.
After I said my farewell to Dad and Sue, Seth Tanya and I made our way to the car.
The Prius, was, as always, parked by the pavement. Cold and odd droplets of water gripped me as I walked briskly towards Seth's prized car. Tanya strolled casually, not seeming to mind the impending storm.
Or at least, she did not show any interest to it.
"My god, Bella, that daughter of yours is just so . . . man, I think she can give me a runner for being the number one cheerful person in Forks! And to think she's only four!" Seth shook his massive head, looking lost.
I grinned, thinking of her as we got into the Prius, "She has always been that way."
Tanya adjusted the rearview mirror, helping her lover as she looked back to smile at me. "She's such an angel, Bella. Yesterday was like hell for me; I couldn't stop thinking about that adorable smile she has!"
My smile lengthened. Seth scoffed, laughing at his internal joke. "Like mother, like daughter."
"Oh, please. Look at yourself, Mr. I'm-so-handsome-I-have-girls-falling-for-me. Good looks bypassed you and waited for Jacob." Tanya suddenly gasped in realization, her mouth gaping, horror widening her eyes. "Shit," she cursed.
The smile disappearing, I pursed my lips and met with Seth's regretful face. His usual, good spirited gaze was now lined with worry and anxiety. I did not question anything, did not even say a mere word.
"Gosh, I really need to get rid of this foot-in-mouth disease I possess," Tanya broke the silence awkwardly, a hint of an edge in her voice.
He broke the stare first, looking back into the road, "Yeah, you probably should."
Reaching school, we realized that we were slightly too early. This made me wonder at exactly what time Ness had woken. I was shifting from side to side, the quiet silence biting at my head.
As it was still early, I took out my essay paper and began reviewing, searching for any mistake. I crossed out sentences I did not like, added in words that seemed more fitting and compassionate. Finally, I tore out a new piece of paper from my lecture pad and began rewriting the whole thing altogether.
I had only until the end of the day to finished doing so, but it was all right by me. I wanted to make sure my essay was perfect. English was the only class I wanted to make a great impression on after all, it is the only subject that interested me.
My handwriting was clumsy; the product of several years worth of being a fast writer. By the time the bell for first period rang, I was already through with the fifth paragraph. Seth gave Tanya a quick kiss on the lips, murmuring a goodbye.
And anyone could see the passion and love shared between the two of them.
I turned away from them.
We walked vigorously to class, frightened that Mr. Mason–our current English teacher–would mark us for being late. He was notorious for cutting the time close.
I did not question his teaching skills. Certainly, I hated his strict hold on everyone, but at the end of the day, he taught us well. From the way he spoke heatedly about the classics, the way he preferred us writing an essay than typing it out.
He was definitely an amazing teacher, but then again, who am I to judge? I was not taught by anyone for two years. I gained that baggy Jacksonville High sweatshirt of mine from Goodwill.
The bell chimed once more, indicating that it was time for Government. Though Mr. Jefferson was slightly more eccentric than Mr. Mason, the subject did not hold any of my interest.
Trigonometry and then Spanish passed; time fast-forwarding. Before I knew it, lunch was staring me at the face. My wallet barely contained any contents, so I bought an apple. Tanya eyed my choice reprehensibly.
"Aren't you going to eat something more?" his voice teased, smooth velvet and goose-bumps erupting on my neck. Electricity buzzed underneath my skin, itching for me to touch him. I turned to look at Edward Cullen with a half-hearted smile.
Should I frown? Glare?
Instead, I was confronted by his glorious face smiling crookedly. My breath caught in my throat, heart thumping unevenly, as I tried not to look completely moronic in front of him.
"This is enough," I murmured, casting my eyes down shyly.
I did not need to look up to see his disapproval –it was obvious in his voice. "Bella, you look like you're starving, and that's all you are ever going to eat? Hey, listen, take this," he thrust an unidentified item into my nearly empty hands.
Taking a step back out of shock, I finally met his concern gaze. There was a hint of amusement and perhaps even . . . excitement? I did not know, for he gave a brief nod and walked off, leaving me with the memory of the depth of his brilliant green eyes.
Confused and head swimming, I barely noticed Tanya as she linked her arm through mine, "Oh my god! Was I daydreaming, or did Edward Cullen just give you a Snickers bar?"
"He did," I smiled gently, feeling warmth spreading through my chest.
We reached our table then, Seth standing up to help Tanya with her lunch tray. He and I barely spoke, much less look at each other throughout the entire time we were together or walking to class. This worried me, for I wanted him to know that I did not mind not being told a secret.
"You know, Bella, I think you should really stay away from Edward," Garrett, who had joined us earlier, looked past his shoulder, "because Edward Cullen doesn't chase girls; they chase him."
Seth chortled. "Like that's ever going to stop her from avoiding him. It's pointless, Garrett. Let Bella be. If she wants to be a hopeless romantic, so be it."
Indignation vividly showering her tone, Tanya shoved Seth's shoulder furiously. "Shut up, Seth! That's mean of you!"
He caught my eye then, slight bitterness hidden in his hazel-like eyes. I cleared my throat and shoved away from the table. Walking off, I dared not look back, in fear that everyone would be staring.
There was truthfully no reason why I was raging. Of course, I did not feel anything for Edward. The fact was, I couldn't. Or rather, I couldn't afford to do so. I have given up on love long ago, knowing full well it was the devil himself in disguise.
So why did I feel angry with Seth's unsuspecting remark?
I heard someone call my name as I stalked towards the Biology lab, huddling deeper into my jumper. The chilly air stuck onto the exposed parts of my face, and I wished nothing more than to just be at home.
"Bella," Seth shouted and I ignored him once more, "Bella, I'm sorry! Please, listen to me!"
Abruptly and infuriatingly, I turned aside. "What do you want, Seth? You wanted to insult me, fine, you got what you wanted!" This was the first time I had ever shouted. I was hardly ever frazzled.
"No, no," he looked regretful, "it's not that . . . it's just–"
"If you didn't want to tell me what the truth behind Jacob is, you don't have to. I was not forcing you to tell me anything." I bit back the enraged snarl.
He blinked, "Really?"
The absence of noise proved my point and he visibly relaxed, his tense shoulders loosening. Suddenly, he sagged against the moss covered brick-wall of the building, looking distraught and tired.
I understood how he felt like.
"I don't mind not knowing, Seth. Perhaps that is the better way. However, neither do I mind if you want to tell me. I am Switzerland, neutral and in-between. There is no need for you to feel . . . trapped." The words left my mouth, my heart jumping at the chance to break through my stiff posture.
He sighed and leaned his head back. "I'm just not . . . ready yet, you know? I know that it's sort of unfair for you to tell me about Vanessa and I'm not even willing to share my, uh, secret. And I'm sorry–"
"There's nothing to be sorry about. I understand." And I really did. The difference was that I wanted to tell them of my daughter, to get rid of the elephant hanging around in the room.
Seth turned to me, his hazel eyes was brimming with unshed tears. Then he reached for me, his wide, muscular arms wrapping around my frail body. "Thank you, Bella."
Fervent with gratitude and reverence, his voice shook. I leaned into his hug, feeling his large body vastly overcoming mine. He smelled of cologne and the forest. "It's all right. You're not going through this alone."
I surprised myself by saying the past two sentences.
He did not answer, choosing instead to hug me tighter to him. "How do you do it?" he whispered awhile later. "How can you be so level-headed about your daughter?"
"I . . . I am not sure."
He pulled away and stared into my eyes, unspoken sentences between us. "God, Bella, you're seriously amazing, do you know that?" I grinned humbly, crossing my arms behind my back as I shook my head.
From afar, I could hear Tanya's voice ringing out, "Bella? Seth?"
I glanced at Tanya's silhouette making its way towards us. And as I did so, my eyes caught with a tall figure, familiar and heart-jolting. Edward's eyes were guarded; shielding. His gaze looked down at Seth's arm, draped casually around my shoulders.
My heart stuttered, my feet automatically taking a step towards him. What was this feeling I was getting? Why did I feel like I should . . . explain what Seth and I were actually doing to the bronze haired boy?
These convoluted, misshaped feelings constantly nagged at my mind.
He had not moved yet, and Seth removed his arm from me slowly, cautiously. I looked back to give him an assuring nod. Turning back, I clutched the chocolate bar Edward had given. I permitted myself a small grin as I showed it to him.
"Thank you," I mouthed. Edward's eyes caught on quickly. That extremely catchable smile of his stretched across his handsome face. He reached into his pocket and brought out another.
And he opened it, beckoning me to eat mine as well. We stared at each other, the few meters between us seeming too far apart. It was surprisingly sensual, to stare into his eyes and eat my chocolate.
The sweet taste of it engulfed me in temporary bliss for a nanosecond. It reminded me of how much I loved eating sweet things as a child. When I grew older, Jane and the rest had laughed into my face, spitting at my childish diet.
"Look at you, Bella! You're practically overflowing with fat!" Jane teased–or so I thought. When I looked into the mirror, I could not see the problem. The weighing scale agreed with my head. I was not fat.
But Jane thought otherwise. "James won't ever like you if you keep eating those candies," she made a face.
From then on, I rarely touched any sweets.
Startled, I bore in mind my baby's face, reminding myself that if I were to choose between having the normal, teenage life–as normal as any teenager could get–and Vanessa, I would choose my daughter.
That was probably how she gained her sweet tooth.
I finished my Snickers within three enormous bites. Tanya had now drifted closer to us, her curious eyes wondering. Seth greeted her first, "Babe!"
Edward turned, breaking our stupor, as he looked at my friend. He crumpled the wrapper, flustered at being caught, and spared me one final glance. Then he proceeded to walk off, his hands deep into his pockets.
"Complicated fellow, isn't he?" Seth commented as Tanya reached us.
"You can say that again." She murmured, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "Okay, maybe later, because seeing as the bell just rang, I think we need to go off now. Garrett's been freaking out about you guys, by the way. Done with your heart-to-heart talk yet?"
I looked sheepishly at her.
She stared back evenly. "I'm taking that as a 'yes.' Now let's get our butts moving, people!"
In Biology, we moved on to naming the onion root cells. It was not as engaging and curious as the placenta, which I'd learned much from. My notebook was a quarter filled with notes and the odd doodle.
Angela was chattier now that she knew me. I was beginning to take a certain liking towards her, for being able to hide her feelings for Seth knowing full well that he was in love with another.
She and I got along well enough, sharing the same animation for English. She knew exactly how I felt about the language and the study of it, even reading my draft of the essay Mr. Mason gave us.
Throughout the duration of Bio, I could feel Edward avidly participating in class discussions. Angela told me this was not the conforming standard of his, and that he only did it whenever he felt ecstatic.
My thoughts flickered to wondering what the reason behind his elation was.
"Guys, guys, listen up!" Edward's voice rang out, loud and alerting. I turned my attention to him, eyes widening considerably. Everyone was gaping at his still smiling face. Seth nudged him with his shoulder, mouthing a silent, "Dude!"
I chuckled at Seth's chastened expression and at Edward's immediate bashful face.
"Thank you, Mr. Cullen. Now, where were we? Ah, yes–" and he droned on. What remained of the period, we discussed about the subject, Mr. Banner getting heated whenever someone got the answer wrong.
As he lectured us, I finished the final draft of my essay, delighted with myself that I could pride in it. Mr. Mason said he only needed three pages but I had gotten agitated and wrote five.
"After all Edward did to catch your attention, you're not going to say goodbye to him?" Seth asked, his old personality returning to its full force. My hands were busily, aggressively tackling my notebook and stationary into my bag.
Seth stood by me, waiting as I slung it over my shoulder, walking out of the lab. We were one of the only few that stayed later than necessary. He compared notes with Angela once more; I tried to unreasonably process what Mr. Banner had taught about.
"He was goading me?" I frowned. He merely laughed and shook his head. "No, but you should've seen how he tried to get you to look at him. That stupid exclamation of his was just another method he thought useful."
My eyebrows drew together.
A sudden whisper of fabric beside me caught my peripheral vision. I leaned back to see Edward's retreating form as he muttered, "See you in Gym, Bella."
I barely got out a 'sure,' for I was certain he was not talking to me. Seth mussed my hair, grinning like only a fool would. We crossed Garrett in the hall, his face equivocally exhausted as Seth's had been before.
He asked whether I was all right, and I answered with the standard answer. He told me that he would pick me up for our work later, since we were working the same shift today. Stressed and looking resigned, he strode off.
"Got his panties in a bunch, does he?" Seth watched Garrett's slouching form. "Oh please," Tanya scoffed as she appeared out of the blue. "It's not that. He's got a lot of things to think about. Like that crazy crush on my sister, for instance."
"But I thought he–" he got interrupted.
"Just leave it, Seth. Kate's the main core of Gar's frustration now. And I'd be a deranged person if I didn't try talking some sense into him." She sighed.
"Did you?" I asked her, entranced by how riveting Garrett's secret liking for that blonde follower of Lauren was.
"Of course, but did he listen? No. Whatever, anyway, I don't want to interfere." Her mouth pulled down wistfully, eyes turning a shade darker. Seth pulled her to his side as we got towards Gym.
Like all the rest of my classes, it flew by. Somehow or rather, I did not kill anyone with that badminton racket. I was well-known for my skills as clumsy players; whoever got me was sure to lose the match. Seth and Tanya stayed by my side in a show of loyalty however, and this gesture touched me.
I had to go the restroom, however, for a quick change of clothes. People were getting curious; they wanted to know why I kept turning around whenever I changed, effectively blocking the view they had towards my scar.
They could not decipher my behavior, especially Lauren, for she asked several times upon the one topic I had been avoiding. She wanted to know why I was so 'modest,' turning around instead of merely changing. Did I have a predicament?
No, I wanted to tell her, I only have a scar form the caesarean that I had to take. That, surely, would not be enticing?
She was ruthless, that girl.
I pulled back my jumper, feeling the rough fabric slick past my unsheltered skin. As I tied my long, tedious brown hair into a low bun which draped across my right shoulder, I heard the door open once more and a flurry of voices disappearing as it closed.
"Jesus, I can't believe that girl!" A high, keening voice that sounded slightly higher than Ness's voice rang out throughout the restroom. I did not mean to eavesdrop, but I had yet to fully cover my scar.
Making sure my cubicle was locked, I began to adjust my jumper and jeans, exceptionally trying to muffle out the voices beyond the other side of the door.
"Chill, Alice. You know that Lauren's like that." Another voice, keen and soothing, smooth like sweet, purified water whispered. "It doesn't give her the chance to flirt with my brother, or your boyfriend, for that matter. She's got her eyes on Jazz now!" The other voice yelled in fury.
The second voice's tone immediately calmed down the other, "Ally, it's stupid to try and do something. Lauren's like a bomb . . . a ticking one. And she's a freaking slut. Let her be, babe. Let her destroy herself."
Silence engulfed the room for a second, and I flinched as I made the mistake of accidentally dropping my bag on the floor as I struggled to get out of the decrepit cubicle. Finally, after a stiff shove, I stumbled out of it, flustered and pink in the cheeks.
I tried not to look into their eyes as I washed my hands, grabbed some toilet paper, and began drying off. What would my mother chide this time? Oh, Bella, you really shouldn't have been listening in. Now, look what's happened! They're going to hound after you.
Gritting my teeth against the flurry of the piercing tear my heart seemed to expose, I clenched my fists, balling the still-wet tissue. The rubbish disposal was another trick; it was near impossible to get it to open.
And when I was done, turned away from the two girls who were part of Lauren Mallory's group of friends, I sighed. This was my mistake for eavesdropping, and I should not have in the first place.
So I forced my frozen body to turn towards the two; the gorgeous blonde who made such a spasm on my ego–not that I was expecting I was anywhere near that beauty of hers–and the small, almost little girl that had spiky black hair.
They looked worried, horrified if I permitted myself to admit it. The blonde had wonderful, violet eyes that were a rare find. The other girl had dark brown ones. They bored into mine simultaneously, her chalky-white face ashen.
It took me a second to understand; they were frightened–of me.
How was that possible when I expected to reprimand me?
"I . . . I am very sorry for what . . . what I have heard. But I promise you, I will not utter a single word to anyone," I vowed to them, burning with seriousness, "everyone has secrets, and I believe that I can keep one more."
Their eyes locked on each other, quietly sizing me. I did not know whether or not they would agree to my terms, but I wanted to get away from them; contact with any of their kind made me feel depressed.
People like them were rich and overflowing with power and popularity. They could not be seen with someone like me. Like the hierarchy in history, I was placed at the bottom of the pyramid made up of the high school population.
"You're . . . Isabella Swan, right?" the fairy-like girl asked, finally turning her head to me, looking uncertain and yet filled with assurance.
I nodded. "Just call me Bella, please." Keep it short, clipped and completely cooled. Remember that Seth and the others are waiting for you.
There was a smile that spread across her face, knowing something . . . I could not seem to place that 'something.' What was it? Her expression changed to cheerful, apparently completely rid of the doubt. The blonde beside her resumed her half-interested stare.
And I wanted nothing more than to leave.
"Well, I'm Alice Cullen, and this is Rosalie Hale." She introduced, suddenly lightening up. I glanced at the person beside her and nodded. I looked back at this Alice, recollecting that she was connected to Edward.
Edward Cullen. Alice Cullen. They were brother and sister . . . and yet they looked far from siblings. Were they fraternal twins, then? Or adopted?
I was not keen on finding answers.
She smiled wider as she reached for me. I froze in place, not moving a single muscle when she whispered, "It's all right. I know you won't tell anyone. I trust you. And obviously, so does Edward."
Uncomprehending the last sentence that spewed out of her mouth, I fought back the surge of questions. She was still a stranger to me; I barely knew the first thing about her. Only her name and her connection to the mysterious boy I was attracted to made sense to me.
The restroom door opened again and I caught whiff of Tanya's perfume. I turned to look at her just as she stepped to my side, eyes widening. They were filled with suppressed questions as she raised an eyebrow towards our company.
"Do we have a problem, ladies?" she asked, looking back and forth between me and them. I shook my head, taking in a breath to capture the ones that left me whilst talking to them.
"Garrett's looking for you, Bella," Tanya said after the tense quietness. I sighed, "Okay."
I risked one last glance between Alice Cullen and her friend Rosalie Hale. Were we ever going to interact after this? I could not know, for I did not need any more friends. The more I invited outsiders, the more my daughter was at danger.
Too trusting! My instincts screamed at me.
So I turned back and headed out the graffiti-covered restroom door, mind firmly set on my baby.
A/N: I' going to keep this short: I AM VERY SORRY FOR NOT BEING ABLE TO UPDATE WEEKLY. The end. =( Leave a review, please?
-Serene.
