A/N: So, I was thinking to myself as I wrote the beginning of this chapter, should I take the road less followed or something like that? And then I said, "Nah…" After all, someone had to stop them eventually. This story is rated T, after all.
Also, Edward is not a vampire—his thing about Bella's neck will be explained somewhere south of here.
Disclaimer: Once upon a time, a girl didn't own Twilight. The author, Stephanie Meyer, did. End of story.
Chapter 7
"Who the hell flipped the light switch?"
I shoved Edward away from me—which was very difficult, since I was in his lap—and snapped my head around to glare at whoever had just opened the door and turned on the lights. I was simultaneously surprised, annoyed, and embarrassed to find Jasper and Alice gaping back at me, their jaws hanging open and their expressions extremely confused.
"What…are you doing?" Alice asked after a moments pause, looking slightly dazed.
"Watching Spirited Away," I said, blushing. At this point, Chihiro was running away from No-Face. I, too, felt the desire to run away, but from someone much more terrifying—Alice.
Edward coughed lightly and straightened his shirt. I blushed even harder when I realized that he was no longer wearing a tie. I was almost positive that he had been wearing a tie when we sat down to watch the movie.
"Good evening, Alice," he said courteously, dipping his head.
"Oh, don't 'Good evening' me!" she snarled, looking positively furious. "You…you little seducer, you, trying to…to…" she spluttered incoherently for a few moments before saying in a scandalized voice, "She's my best friend!"
"I'm well aware of that fact," Edward stated, fiddling with his shirt. I frowned—I really wished he would stop drawing attention to the fact that his top three buttons were undone.
I ran a hand through my hair and laughed nervously. "Wow, this is, uh…wow."
"Bella," Alice said, blinking angrily at me, "what would you do if you walked into your flat with your boyfriend after a wonderful night on the town looking for your flat mate and best friend and near-sister only to find her macking with your brother on your couch. What exactly would you do?"
I grinned sheepishly. "Er…I would...just…"
"Forget about it?" Edward suggested mildly.
"No one asked for your opinion, Ed," Alice snapped.
"Just my two cents," he said serenely. I really had to admire the fact that he was able to keep his cool around her. It seemed that he was gaining more control over his temper.
"Edward, I think that it's best if you leave," Jasper said softly—he had been standing silently behind Alice, probably contemplating what was best to do. And knowing the chemical reaction that occurred whenever you put Alice and Edward in the same room together, he was probably right—Edward should just leave.
"I'll show you door," I said quickly, standing up and straightening my skirt. It did not escape my notice that it had somehow lost six inches lengthwise while I had been on the couch…I hurriedly pulled it down, turning beet red.
"I think I can find it," Edward said sarcastically, narrowing his eyes at me. I had the feeling he was mad that I, of all people, wanted him to leave.
I raised one eyebrow. "Alright. Have it your own way."
He nodded curtly and stood up, brushing off his shirt. "My apologies Alice, Jasper," he looked at both of them in turn and then strode towards the door.
"Yeah, well, don't think you can do it again," Alice said angrily, crossing her arms and glaring at him with more than a necessary amount of malice.
I rolled my eyes and walked out the door right behind Edward, closing the door behind me quietly. "Edward," I whispered, my eyes fixed on the back of his copper colored head.
"Yes, Bella?" His voice was subdued. He turned slowly around to face me. I wondered vaguely how he could look so good even in this dim lighting.
"I had a really good time tonight. Thanks." I blushed.
He smiled slightly. "Even with the fighting?"
I nodded. "Even with the fighting."
He took a step closer to me, staring up at me from beneath his lashes. He really needed to stop doing that, or soon I'd start forgetting how to form coherent sentences. "Bella?"
"Y…yes?" I said breathlessly.
He smirked. "Having trouble breathing?"
I narrowed my eyes at him, but couldn't manage to actually be angry. I found his arrogance to be kind of…endearing. A week ago that would have shocked me, but with Edward…I was starting to accept the fact that where he was concerned, nothing was normal.
He sighed, still smiling. "Well, I had a wonderful time, too, Bella."
"Um…sorry about Alice," I said, rubbing my arm self-consciously.
He laughed. "Don't worry about Alice. She's harmless, really."
I frowned. "Well, you don't live with her."
"I used to."
I blushed again. I recalled our dinner conversation—Alice and Edward had a broken relationship because of some stupid job mishap. It felt awkward talking about her in his presence. "Yeah," I said quietly.
He smiled sadly and stepped closer to me. "I'd like to do this again, some time. Say…tomorrow?"
I chuckled. "That's so soon!"
He immediately backed away, wary. "Unless, of course, you'd rather not. I completely understand if you—"
"Of course I want to," I said, stepping towards him. We were now barely a foot apart. He leaned forward slightly, closing the gap to six inches. "But we have to keep this purely professional."
He gazed down at me, his eyes wide and green and so, so pretty. "That might be slightly difficult, Bella."
"Why?" I asked, tilting my head slightly upwards.
"Because," he leaned his head down until his lips grazed mine. I sighed and wrapped my arms around his neck, fully prepared for a goodbye kiss.
Then, of course, Alice decided to slam the door open and ruin the moment. "I knew I couldn't leave you two alone!" she shrieked, stalking over to us and sliding her hand between our faces.
"Alice," I groaned, glaring at her.
"Bella," she mimicked me, putting her hands on her hips. "You!" she said angrily, shoving Edward in the shoulder. "Leave. Now!"
He shrugged apologetically at me. "Goodbye, Bella," and he flashed me my favorite crooked grin.
"Bye, Edward," I said shyly, turning my head towards the door. This was an awkward parting, to say the least.
"Yes," Alice said acidly, pushing me through the entryway and back into the flat. "Bye, Edward."
I sighed as I felt Alice's small hands clamped around my upper arm, forcing me onto the couch. "Explain," she said very threateningly, her blue eyes narrowed to slits.
I laughed nervously. "Explain what?"
"Explain why I will never again be able to watch Spirited Away again without feeling deeply disturbed!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air.
"I just kissed him, that's all, Alice." I was slightly exasperated, to say the least. Was it really such a crime if I kissed her brother? Well, to Victoria it was. I blanched—that reminded me. I could lose my job.
"You weren't just kissing," Alice hissed. "You were necking. Snogging."
"Making out?" I suggested.
"Yes! And that is so…so…"
"She's at a loss for words, the situation is so terrible," Jasper said dryly.
"Look, I know you hate Edward, Alice," I said kindly, "but I'm a big girl. I can do what I want."
She sighed and flopped down on the couch next to me, her anger suddenly vanishing. She, like Edward, could go from angry to weary in mere seconds. "I'm sorry," she said pathetically. "It's just…I mean, I really didn't expect to see that."
I frowned at her. "Weren't you the one who was encouraging me to 'fall in love with him'?"
She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, but…I didn't expect to, you know, see it first hand. To be honest, I didn't think you'd actually fall in love…at least, not so soon."
"Just because we kissed doesn't mean we're in love."
She snorted. "You may not be, but he sure as hell is."
I blushed. "Don't say that, Alice. It isn't true."
She smirked at me—I noticed that she had a striking resemblance to Edward when she did that. "Trust me. I know my brother. He's not just attracted to you anymore—it's deeper than that. I think you've seriously got him stumped."
"But he's not in love!" I said, giggling nervously. Edward Cullen, the Edward Cullen, in love with me? Plain, old Isabella Swan?
She rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, he is."
I didn't know how to react to that statement, so I just stayed silent.
"And…I'm sorry for over reacting," she said, looking down at the floor. "It was kind of…stupid of me, so…" she suddenly stopped talking and leaned down, frowning. "Is that what I think that is?"
"Is what?" I asked innocently, leaning down to see what she was looking at. I immediately turned bright red.
It was Edward's tie.
She sighed deeply and straightened up, turning to face me. "Oh yeah. He's definitely in love."
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
I had never particularly hated the number three. It had always seemed like a golden number, almost, a yellow, happy color. Three was healthy. Three was joyful. Three wasn't winning, but you still got a top spot. All in all, three was alright.
Of course, this was before I received the three calls.
The first had been Mike. I had woken up at around seven, still clutching Edward's tie, only to have my morning "moment" disrupted by the shrill ring of the telephone. I groggily picked it up, and with more than a little amount of annoyance snapped, "Hello?"
"Oh, Bella! Hey!"
I groaned internally. "Oh, hey…Mike."
"Yeah," he paused uncomfortably before continuing. "So, you, uh…had breakfast yet? Because I, um, would really enjoy, you know, taking you out to get some breakfast to talk over the Black case. At eight or so."
Was there really a point in me reminding him that I was, in fact, Mr. Cullen's secretary, not Mr. Cullen himself? Or that I knew what he had "claimed" yesterday, and was not fully prepared to give him my good graces? I didn't think either would do much good. "Yeah, um…I'm sick…" I said flatly, giving a pathetic cough and wiping my wrist across my nose, sniffling.
Apparently, my poor performance was enough to convince Mike. "Oh, wow, I hope you feel better, Bella." He sounded genuinely apologetic. Huh. Too bad I thought he was an arrogant prick.
"Yeah, thanks. Bye."
And I hung up.
The second call was fifteen minutes later, but from a decidedly better source—Jacob Black.
"Oh! Hey, Jake."
"Hey, Bella. I was just wondering where you were last night."
"Last…night?" What on earth was he talking about?
"You know, that date we arranged?"
"Date?" I was pulling a blank here. Wait—he thought I had been serious? This wasn't good. "Oh, yeah, the date!" I said, laughing nervously. "Wow, how time flies, huh? Yeah, I'm…sick. Sorry." Again, a pathetic cough and sniffling. And, again, he bought it.
"God, I hope you feel better, Bells."
"Thanks," I said, smiling. I actually liked Jake—just not that way. Maybe my indifference would clue him in to my disinterest. "Bye."
The third call was not so pleasantly received.
"Bella?"
"Tyler? Oh my God. I'm blocking you. I'm getting a restraining order. Really, I am."
He ignored me. "Want to get breakfast?"
I scowled at the phone, oblivious to the fact that he couldn't actually see me. "No, I don't. And besides, don't you have plans with Lauren?"
"Well, yeah, but I'll ditch her if that means I can get you."
"Your honesty is not the least bit charming," I said bitingly.
He paused, and then continued. "So, are we on? I'll pick you up now—I'm outside your building, as it is."
My face lost all color. I really should get a second lock on the door. "As much as I'd love to," he would have to have been exceptionally thick not to hear the sarcasm that permeated my voice, "I'm sick. Achoo."
And, yet again, my story was taken without complaint. I had a feeling that all of these men were either surprisingly dim-witted (which wasn't that hard to believe), or they thought that I was a lot weaker than I actually was. Immediately, I wanted to prove them all wrong. So when Edward phoned, I decided that I would prove to myself that I was not just another damsel in distress—I would be strong. I would be a woman. I would make Edward weak in the knees, and not the other way around.
"Bella?"
"Yes, Edward?" I had to stiffen and clamp my hands on the edge of the couch not to immediately melt at the sound of his voice. It was kind of undermining my desire to be strong.
"I was wondering…would you like to get breakfast with me? In order to delve a little deeper into one another?"
I sighed contemplatively and twirled the phone cord, my eyes irresistibly drawn to his tie that lay forlornedly on the coffee table. "Um…"
"I mean, we could do lunch instead. Or, you know, just wait…I mean, today's your day off, but I would really like to…I mean, if that's okay with you…"
Was it just me, or was the unfazable Edward Cullen actually nervous? "Alright," I said slowly, deliberately drawing out my vowels so that he was hanging onto my every syllable. "I guess that would be okay…pick me up at seven forty-five, alright?" I knew it was now turning seven thirty-seven, but honestly, I was proving to myself that I was in control. And if I was in control…he would do as I said.
And, surprisingly, he did.
"Seven forty-five? Sounds great. I think we should go to—"
"Actually, Edward," I said pleasantly, cutting him off, "I'm going to drive. You'll just have to leave your car in my parking space. We're taking my car, and we're going to a place of my choosing."
"But—"
I could hear his exasperation, but I wasn't about to let him win. I would be the one in charge here. "So be quick, alright? I don't want Tyler abducting me while I'm waiting for you."
And I hung up.
Of course, at the time, this sounded like a good idea. In retrospect…not so much.
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
"What is…that?"
I stifled a giggle with my right hand at the spectacle before me. "It's a car, Edward. Or at least, it was last time I checked."
"That," he said, eyeing my truck with obvious distaste, "should not be allowed."
"I think it's rather wonderful, actually," I said, smiling happily. It didn't escape my notice that, though he was complaining about my car…he wasn't taking matters into his own hands and just walking away. He was doing as I said. I mentally thought, Good doggie. Now roll over.
Of course, directions like that are much more complicated in real life.
He circled my vehicle, obviously inspecting it. "This heinous red color looks like some sort of dried tomato."
"My favorite," I said solemnly.
He scowled at me. "For having such a wonderful taste, you really don't have such wonderful taste," he smirked slightly as I turned beet red. Why did everything he said somehow get me flustered? Of course, the insinuations of his statement were obvious, even to me.
"Look," I said, grimacing—after all, I was supposed to be the one in control, not him, "either we're taking my truck, or I'm taking Mike up on his offer and going out to breakfast with him."
Edward noticeably paled. "Mike asked you to breakfast?"
I nodded, smiling slightly. Now that I knew Edward was interested…I was fairly sure the emotion I had mistaken for an employer's protectiveness was actually a severe case of jealousy. Not that I didn't enjoy it, of course.
He growled. I raised one eyebrow—did most people growl? Or was it just him? It seemed more like a Cullen trait than anything else. "Why that little punk…"
I chuckled. "Punk?" I rolled my eyes and hopped into the front seat, patting the leather seat next to me and wiggling my eyebrows suggestively. I rolled down the window, saying innocently, "Who knows? If you got in this car, maybe we could put the backseat to good use…"
He was inside in two seconds flat.
I blinked. That worked surprisingly well. Deciding to now completely ignore him, I then put it into gear, pushing down lightly on the pedal and easing out of the parking space. I was too busy concentrating on the parking lot around me to actually notice Edward pouting beside me.
"Don't I get a prize, Bella?" he asked piteously.
I was really rather glad that I couldn't see his eyes smoldering—because I was positive that they would, in fact, be smoldering—because if I did I might just lose control of the wheel and, in my passion, send us swerving into oncoming traffic. "Be careful," I said seriously, "or my eagerness to give you your prize might just send the car careening into a wall."
He snickered. "Fair enough. I guess I'll just have to wait."
After about three minutes of comfortable silence, he started to flip through my CD collection.
"Pink?" he asked in shock after about one minute of silently analyzing my selection of music. "You have Pink?"
"Yup," I nodded my head.
"Is there a story behind this?"
I turned my head to briefly narrow my eyes at him. "What do you mean? Am I not allowed to like her music or something?"
"…No…but…"
I frowned—he had taken too long of a time answering that question, in my opinion. "Oh, so if I like classical I must hate pop and all modern music? And, of course, since I'm a girl and a brunette I must be smart and have no fun?" I glared at the windshield. "That is so stereotypical, Edward."
He immediately became defensive. "I said nothing of the kind, Bella."
"Yeah, but you were thinking it," I snapped, huffing and squaring my shoulders. Why was it that he would be sweet one moment and bad the next, like some sort of real-life, inedible Sour Patch Kid?
"How do you know what I was thinking?" he bit right back.
"I just…it's so obvious!" I blurted out, barely refraining from throwing my hands into the air from exasperation.
He grunted. "Let's get off of the subject. We obviously won't agree."
"Fine," I gave a curt nod. "Find the Little Miss Sunshine CD, then, and put it in."
"Devotchka?" he asked questioningly.
"Yup. Got a problem with that?"
"Not at all," he said blandly. I heard a vague shuffling of plastic CD cases before The Winner Is started sounding through the interior of the car. Despite my truck's clunky and antiquated appearance, it actually had a fairly good stereo system. I sighed and leaned back, most of my anger dissipating.
"Ah…" I sighed, my shoulders un-tensing and my chin tilting upwards. "Hmmm…"
Edward made a strangled sound next to me, very much like the one he had made in the car last night on our way to the restaurant. "What is it now?" I asked, sighing. "My neck, again?"
"Yes," he admitted grudgingly.
I smiled, still very relaxed. "Do you have a neck fetish or something?"
I could practically hear his teeth grinding next to me. "…Perhaps."
I giggled. "And you have a thing for shiny objects? Wow, the list is growing."
"I am intrigued with everything concerning you, Bella," he stated simply, his clothes rustling as he shifted in his seat.
He apparently knew how to shut me up, since I immediately turned bright red and ceased my teasing of him. It was really quite unfair that he had such a hold over me—after all, wasn't I the one who was supposed to be in charge? But where Edward was concerned…I shook my head in annoyance. I didn't even try to understand why he affected me the way he did.
He tapped his fingers against the window, sighing. "So, where are we going, again?"
I decided to take a leaf out of Alice's book. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
He was silent for a moment before saying, "You've been living with my sister too long, haven't you?"
I scowled.
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
Fate had never exactly been on my side. Even when I was little, bad luck just seemed to sort of follow me around, like a tag-along stray puppy, or Mike Newton. But, either way, I didn't enjoy it. It made sense that now, of all times, it decided to rear it's ugly head in the form of three couples.
As soon as Edward and I had entered the restaurant (I had decided on the American Café), an unusually preoccupied waiter had seated us at our table, glancing at the door distractedly every two minutes. I rather liked him because of his unimaginably bright, cherry red hair—I was positive that it had been colored with a marker or at least streaked with food dye. There was also the fact that he obviously showed no interest in Edward and would not make me…annoyed…for the rest of the morning. That was always a plus.
"So, what would you like?" the waiter asked, clearly bored. He fingered his pen and frowned at the orange creamsicle colored wall behind us.
"A black espresso with blueberry pancakes," Edward said simply. "And you, Bella?"
"I'd like the Hearty American meal," I said, smiling serenely as Edward's mouth dropped open.
"Um, Bella…?" he said warily, gazing down at the menu, "That's bacon, sausage, eggs, and toast with the Philadelphia flapjacks…are you sure you want to…?" he trailed off, his eyes widening.
I raised one eyebrow. "What? Can't a girl have a hearty appetite?"
"But your arteries…" he mumbled, furrowing his brow. I wasn't exactly pleased with his response—he shouldn't find it unacceptable for a woman to eat what was usually considers a "man's meal". I would just have to revolutionize his thinking. Well, that was fine with me.
The waiter, on the other hand, was completely accepting of my choice—in fact, I would have doubted that he had heard it had he not quickly scribbled it down and walked off, still glancing at the door ever so often. I liked the guy, despite his aloof attitude.
Edward coughed lightly and placed his hand on my elbow. I turned my head slowly and gave him a small smile. "Yes?" I was almost positive that he would start lecturing me on my meal choice.
I didn't understand why, but he looked extremely worried—what did that have to do with my order? "The door," he mouthed, nodding his head towards said entryway. I frowned and whipped my head around to see was he was gesturing at.
"Oh my God…" I whispered, immediately sinking downwards in my seat.
There, in the doorway, stood Mike Newton chatting amiably with his apparently good friend Eric Yorkie. I turned beet red and shrunk into my coat like a turtle would into its shell. How on earth did these people keep finding me? Did I have not one stalker, but three?
"I think we should leave…" I whispered, blinking at them from the depths of my jacket.
Edward sounded just about as pleased as me. "I think it's a little late for that, love." And he was right, of course, because Eric and Mike were soon followed by Tyler and Lauren, his arm draped casually over her shoulders and her nose held haughtily in the air. I practically slipped beneath the table at this point—I actually wanted to become invisible. Anything but this, really.
"How are we going to get out of this one?" I asked, my voice barely loud enough to hear over the din of Amy Winehouse blasting through the speakers.
"I don't think that we are," Edward replied, scooting closer to me.
Then Billy Black and Jacob decided to stroll in, their inky eyes scanning the interior of the restaurant. I ducked my head down, trying my hardest not to be spotted by any of the three couples—I had told them all I was sick. What was I supposed to do now?
So much for being in control.
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
The first to spot us was Billy Black. His onyx eyes widened in surprise before he hurriedly glanced down at his meal, trying not to tip Jake off to our presence. I really had to thank that guy later. But, of course, Jake decided to be smart and perceptive, and so looked at where his grandfather had been so avidly staring…only to find Edward and me. Needless to say, we soon found ourselves pressured into joining their table.
I seated myself uncomfortably between Billy and the edge of the aisle, fidgeting with my fingers. "Hi, Jake," I said, trying to sound excited and failing miserably.
"Hey," Jake replied nonchalantly. "I thought you were sick."
It didn't take a genius to see that he was slightly hurt. And, in all honesty, I didn't want to hurt Jake—I thought he was a great guy. "Yeah, twenty-four minute flu," I said lamely, causing Edward to double over in laughter. Luckily, he quickly disguised it as a coughing fit, though when Jake offered to perform CPR he decided that his airways were, in fact, fine.
Billy I don't think bought my story, but he probably had the same idea as me—if Jake didn't need to know, then we might as well not tell him.
And, naturally, once Jake spotted his lawyers, he decided that it was only courteous to invite them to our table. So our table of four became a table of six. Luckily enough, Lauren and Tyler had chosen to sit in the smoking section—obviously, they both desperately needed to smoke during breakfast—and so didn't see us. At this point, I was considering that pretty fortunate.
The waiter approached our table again, pencil and pad in hand, still looking acutely preoccupied and…nervous? I couldn't be sure. He raised one eyebrow at our table, clearly bemused—I couldn't say that I blamed him. It looked like we were a troupe of bunnies, mushrooming on the spot. "And what may I get you, sir?" he asked Billy.
"Coffee. Black." Billie said shortly.
"Mm-hm," the waiter nodded his head. "And you?" he glanced up briefly at Jacob.
"Coffee. Black." Jacob repeated, smirking at his grandfather who was giving him a perturbed stare. "And the Hearty American Meal, please."
I beamed at him. "I'm getting that one, too, Jake."
He grinned. "Great minds think alike, I guess."
Edward scowled. "Not necessarily."
I sighed. Of course they wouldn't get along. Because everything just worked out that perfectly.
Mike, of course, decided that he, too, had to have the Hearty American Meal. The way things were going, I would have a lot on my conscience when their arteries finally clogged all the way up—I was what was inciting this sudden food-lust, after all. I sighed as Eric, too, ordered the Hearty American Meal. This was just perfect—now Billy and Edward were going to look like the normal ones. Bah.
The waiter reappeared, wielding our plates like swords and sticking them beneath our surprised faces. For such a scattered personality, he sure was exuberant when it came to serving food. I gulped as steam wafted off of my three sausages, three bacon strips, three pancakes, three pieces of toast, three waffles, three sausage patties…sure, three was a magical number, but weren't there limits? Besides, there was no way I could eat this much. Jacob and Mike, on the other hand, were patting their stomachs in anticipation. Eric looked about as wary as me—at least there was someone I could relate to.
Edward smirked at me and whispered under his breath, "You know, I could help you out…it seems like you'll be having some trouble with that manly meal."
I scowled. Damn him. He knew that that would annoy me to the point of making me eat the whole darn thing. I took a deep breath and set to eating, shoveling a sausage into my mouth.
I was a third of the way through my second flapjack—Jacob had already cleared his plate—when the real trouble began.
"So," Billy said, waving his coffee spoon at me. "What do you think of me changing the outside of the store from that dopey-blue to something a little more woodsy?"
"I think it would be wonderful," I said truthfully.
He smiled. "See, I knew you would understand. Jake here," he jerked a thumb in said person's general direction, "doesn't want to because that would mean more work on his part."
Jake just shrugged innocently. "I simply think the blue's darling, Papa," he said sweetly, batting his eyelashes.
I giggled. "Absolutely, Jakey-poo."
Edward glared daggers at his coffee.
"Actually," I said, now being serious, "I think that you should go for a theme of—" I gasped and unintentionally said, "Hahh-ah-ah-ah…" Billy and Jacob looked at me oddly, questioning my strange behavior—of course, they didn't realize that Edward's hand was slowly working its way up my thigh, starting at my knee and rubbing little circles into my skin. It was so infuriatingly divine that I feared I would pass out. To prevent this from happening, I quickly slapped my hand down on his and dug my nails into his palm, fixing a grin on my face.
Edward jerked away from me, but was unsuccessful in his attempt to escape from my hand's death grip. "She means hot pink," he said, grimacing slightly.
I glowered and kicked his shin. His eye twitched.
Billy's eyes widened. "Hot pink? Isn't that sort of…"
"Of course not hot pink!" I said hurriedly. "What I meant was, do something cultural and relating to old Quieleute legends. That should be good." I would have released my hold on Edward's hand, but I was terrified that he would do something like that again…it might just force me to jump him. And that would completely dash Mike's dreams. I wasn't that cruel.
There was also the fact that it was totally inappropriate in such a public setting, though that was only a minor problem.
Billy nodded in understanding. "Ah. Go for the native stuff, eh?"
I smiled. "Absolutely."
Jake grinned slyly at me. "Any other tips?"
My smile weakened ever so slightly. He wasn't flirting with me, was he? After all, I only thought of him as a good friend. There was also the problem that Edward's hand twitched, probably itching to resume his previous activities in response to Jacob's advances. I would have tried harder to stop him again, but I was too flustered. This situation was simply too weird.
"I have to go to the bathroom!" I blurted out, standing up in a blur of movement and shoving my chair out behind me. Actually, I just needed to get away from Edward and Jacob. But I decided not to let them know. Instead, I clutched my stomach and whispered dramatically, "Feminine problems."
"Oh." All five masculine faces blinked in surprise before hurriedly examining the table before them and resuming conversation. I noticed, to my amusement, that they were looking anywhere but me. I snickered slightly and sped off to the bathroom…idiots. Didn't they realize that that was a typical girl's excuse to get the hell away?
Apparently not.
I slipped into the bathroom, breathing a sigh of relief and splashing my face with ice-cold water. This was starting to seem almost like a dream—a strange, warped reality—I mean, what were the chances that I would end up at the same restaurant as Mike, Eric, Jacob, Billy, Tyler and Lauren? Seriously, what were they—a million to one? I took a deep breath and raised by head from its bowed position by the sink, shrieking when I noticed the person next to me.
"Lauren!" I gasped, quickly exhaling and inhaling. "What are you doing here?"
She glared at me. "What does it look like I'm doing?"
I scrutinized her aggressive stance in front of the mirror, hands on hips and leaning at a 160 degree angle.
"Looking at yourself?" I suggested.
She sniffed. "No, I'm doing the same thing as you."
I blinked, and then it dawned on me. "Escaping?"
She gave a short nod.
I was confused. "But then why…?" I was struggling for words—how could I phrase this without seeming completely rude?
"Why am I with Tyler?" she snapped.
I nodded, mute.
"None of your business, Swan." She resumed gazing at herself owlishly in the mirror, flipping her hair from side to side seeing which way it looked better.
"Do you love him?" I asked quietly. Her silence was answer enough. "Do you even like him?" I continued incredulously—I had always held the opinion that each relationship had to have a small amount of love, even if it was only lust or physical attraction. I simply couldn't quite wrap my mind around the fact that Lauren didn't feel any love for Tyler at all.
She turned to face me, her eyes narrowed. "Does it really matter what I feel for him?"
"Of course!" I exclaimed. "Why wouldn't it? I mean, you're fifty percent of the relationship, aren't you?"
She snorted. "No, actually. I'm just a third wheel."
I tried not to smirk, but I couldn't help it—this was just too ironic. "Is he cheating on you?"
A small smile flitted across her face, and for a brief instant, the hard edges of her angry features were gone, replaced with a bitter-sweet sadness. She actually seemed sort of pretty. "Somewhat."
"Who is it?" I asked quietly.
Her answer seemed almost like the clinical diagnosis of a doctor. "You." She chuckled harshly at the look on my face. "Oh, yes, Swan, he's never gotten over you. Not even in college was he over you…" a wistful look came over her face. "I know he's not the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, but on his good days he's handsome, sort of charming, and spends some time on me. I settle."
"You shouldn't have to," I said angrily.
"Well, you don't need to be so pissy about it," she snapped right back, and returned to examining her reflection. "It's not like it's your relationship, anyways."
But Lauren couldn't understand why I was so furious. I had told Tyler to stay away, that I held no interest…and he still had the gall to treat Lauren like a piece of garbage. I couldn't stand that sort of behavior—it made my skin crawl. Worst of all, she was just willing to accept it—she wouldn't even take a stand.
"I'm going to talk to Tyler about this," I declared suddenly, a powerful emotion surging through me—confidence, maybe? I couldn't tell. All I knew was that it was white-hot, and I was angry as hell.
"Excuse me?" Lauren seethed, slamming one hand on the faux-marble sink top with a smack. "Absolutely not. I only have one boyfriend, Swan," she hissed. "That's right, count 'em—one." She held up her index finger to further emphasize her point. "I'm not like you—I don't have five suitors lined up at my gate to try and catch me when I fall. I don't have someone else. It's just him. And I'll be damned if I let him get away." She threw me a disgusted look. "If I were you, I would just put the poor boys out of their misery already. It's clear you're only interested in one of them."
I gaped at her as she stalked towards the doorway. Where had that outburst come from? I'd just been trying to help.
However, before she left, she decided to speak once more. "Oh, and Swan? I'd watch out for Victoria, if I were you. I don't think she'd approve of breakfast dates with your employer." And with that, she strutted out, slamming the door behind her.
I suppose it was then that I began to feel nauseous.
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
I returned to the table in a sort of daze. The world around me seemed to be moving around in oddly bright colors, where everything was sharpened and in focus. I felt like I had super-senses of some sort…the clarity of my vision was astounding. There were Tyler and Lauren, arguing as they walked out of the store, Lauren turned towards Tyler and Tyler turned away. There were Mike and Eric, Eric clutching his stomach and mouthing words of prayer to ask for forgiveness for having ingested so much food. Mike, in turn, was eyeing the single flapjack left on my plate, as well as the two sausages and three strips of bacon. Just take them…I thought wearily. In the bathroom, I had thrown-up all the bits of nourishment that had been unfortunate enough to end up in my stomach. I was nearly positive that I was sick.
I walked towards Edward, swaying slightly on my feet, hit on all sides by more smells and sounds than I could imagine. My ears were ringing.
"Edward," I rasped, touching his shoulder lightly. "Edward, I need to go."
He snapped his head around, his green eyes wide and worried. "Okay," he said softly. "Can you drive?"
I shut my eyes and shook my head. I knew that I had started the day wanting to be in control, and I was wont to suddenly give up my power…but in the interests of safety…
"Bella, are you alright? You look kind of pale…" the concerns of my friends floated to my ears, sounding subdued in comparison to the clatter of Jake's fork on his plate and the steady munch-munch of Mike's teeth as he crunched on one of my bacon strips.
"I'm fine," I muttered hoarsely, opening my eyes to slits and clutching Edward. "Let's go," I said finally, in what I hoped was a firm voice. "Let's go now."
"Alright," he nodded and stood up, gently leading me out the door.
"Hey!" I heard the cherry-haired boy called. "Hey! You've gotta pay, Sir—you've gotta pay!"
"Don't stiff him, Edward," I murmured.
His voice was stern. "I'll send him a check."
I was too tired to argue. "Hey," I said weakly, "maybe I really do have a 24 minute flu…"
That got him to laugh. I was glad. I liked hearing Edward laugh. "Let's hope not."
"It would be nice to be sick," I said quietly. "Just for a little while."
He chuckled grimly. "That's what they all say until it actually happens." We walked for about a minute, and then he asked, "Your keys, Bella?"
I shoved a hand into my coat pocket and rummaged around. "Here they are," I said, pushing them into his hand. "Take good care of my car, okay…?"
I could nearly hear the smile in his voice. "I'll do my best. I can't promise that it won't fall apart on the road, though."
I wanted so badly to smack him. But I was just so tired…
I suppose it was the fact that I had not, in fact, hit him that alerted him to how sick I actually was feeling.
"Oh, Bella," he sighed, lifting me gently into the shotgun seat, "you're going to drive me crazy, one of these days…"
"My goal in life," I murmured. My head had started to pound, and the pulses of pain were blocking out all of my other senses. I could barely think, and my throat felt unreasonable dry. "Thirsty," I said quietly. "So thirsty."
And then I fell asleep.
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
"Oh, God, what did you do to her, Edward? Did you, like, squish her with your gigantic ego?"
"Excuse me? My ego? I'm not the one smothering her constantly and dousing her with makeup."
"Really? I'm not the one who's completely careless."
"Careless? I'm extremely cautious, thank you."
"Uh huh? Then what's your tie doing here, Mr. 'I'm-So-Cautious'?"
"I…that was not my fault."
I groaned. Why wouldn't the voices just shut up already?
"Bella! You're awake!"
"OhmyGodareyouokay?"
"W…what?" I blearily opened my eyes, immediately shutting them—there was simply too much light.
"Silly Bella—how are you?"
Now I could confidently put names to the voices. That had to be Edward—only he had the gall to call me 'Silly Bella'. And of course that had to be Alice with him—she and I were the only people he could truly bicker with.
"Ickle-Eddikins," I said hoarsely, smiling with my eyes shut, "a pleasure to know you stayed with me."
"The pleasure was all mine," he said smoothly.
Alice, on the other hand, sounded distinctly disgruntled. "She called you Ickle-Eddikins and you let her get away with it? You don't even let Esme call you that!"
He gave an exaggerated sort of sigh. "You see what I have to go through to see you, Isabella? My sister. A fate worse than death."
Alice countered with the very eloquent retort of, "Shut up, idiot."
I coughed. My throat felt like it was on fire. I opened my eyes again and gazed upwards, vaguely making out two blurry black shapes above me. "What happened?" I said quietly, almost so quietly I doubted whether they could actually hear me.
"Oh, Bella, my idiot brother here took you to a restaurant with food poisoning—can you believe it?" Alice said tragically, sounding as if she were some sort of victim.
I didn't feel the need to point out that I was, in fact, the one that had chosen the restaurant. "Mmm," I said, nodding my head slightly as if I completely understood her point.
"I am so not letting you two go out alone after this. You'll just get yourself into trouble." She crossed her arms and leaned on her hip very authoritatively.
Edward sniffed. "Trouble follows her around, I think, Alice. You really shouldn't bring me into this."
"S'your fault, Edward," I mumbled, "…for making me stay. We could have skipped breakfast or something…"
"Perhaps that would have been best," Edward said sadly. "It seems as if you won't be able to come to work tomorrow."
Was it just me, or did he sound slightly depressed? "Part of the plan," I said softly. "Less hours for more money. I do get sick leave and pension and what not, right?"
He chuckled softly. "I'd give those to you even if you didn't."
I smiled and closed my eyes again, determined to drift back to sleep. But, of course, Alice had not finished with me yet.
"And what's this I hear about yet another man in your life, Miss Swan?" she said threateningly, prodding my shoulder.
"Ow," I moaned.
"Sorry," she said apologetically, before continuing with a slightly less amount of force. "I seem to think that a certain someone named Jacob Black has a little thing for you, hmmm? And just when exactly did you become so popular?"
"As soon as her beauty, wit, and intelligence graced the world," Edward said very poetically, brushing some hair back from my face. I smiled.
"Ugh," Alice rolled her eyes. "You two are sickening. Really."
"I thought it was sweet," I said quietly, grasping Edward's large hand in mine. I frowned—it seemed as if he was abnormally cool. Though that was probably just my own body temperature being high in comparison…
Edward sat down next to me on the bed, and I wiggled over towards him to that I could be closer. "Do you want to be held, Bella?" he asked, sounding thoroughly amused.
"Yes," I murmured, "you're like my own personal ice pack."
He grimaced. "Ah."
"And my own personal Shakespeare," I added.
His grimace deepened. "And what about your own personal Romeo?"
I yawned and snuggled into him. "You can only be so many things at once, Edward. Try out for that part later."
Alice snickered. "Keep deflating his ego like that, Bella—he'll definitely start to act a lot more likeable. Maybe it'll get him some more admirers."
I frowned. I did not like the sound of that—more admirers on his part, I mean. "On the other hand, you're absolutely the most charming man a girl could ask for," I said quickly, burying my head in his torso.
I didn't have to see him to know that he smiled.
ASADSFADS ASADSFADS ASADSFADS
"Edward, it's Sunday."
He blinked at me, before resuming his staring contest with his seven Scrabble squares.
"Edward," I repeated, rather more impatiently, "it's Sunday."
He nodded blandly and began to rearrange them with his long, white fingers.
I frowned. "You have to go to work."
He peered at his squares before saying, "Ah-ha!" and slowly placing them one by one in the middle of the board. "Potent," he said, smiling. "Now let me count up the points…"
"Edward," I said crossly. "You have to go to work."
He gazed at me, eyebrows raised, his hand hovering above the pencil. "I don't have to do anything, Bella."
I scowled. "You're risking my career, and quite possibly yours, by staying here."
He sighed. "Whatever gives you that idea?"
Oh, I don't know, just the fact that Lauren had practically stated that she would tell Victoria that she saw Edward and I having a breakfast date? And that the fact that we were both absent from work at the same time would be doubly suspicious? "We could get in trouble," was all I said.
He chuckled. "Oh, Bella, of course we won't. I have the situation completely under control. You just stay sick, and I'll just stay on vacation. God knows I deserve one."
I growled. "Leave, dammit."
His eyes widened, and he looked hurt. "Don't you want me here, Bella?"
Damn his pretty green eyes. "Of course, Edward," I said, slightly less bitingly, "but I…need to, you know, recover. And I'll be fine on my own. And you have work. And you need to get it done."
He narrowed his eyes. "Your immune system needs work."
I snorted. "Yeah, work you can't do. Go do lawyering somewhere else, okay?"
He eyed me critically before saying, "Do you have a piece of paper I can tally the points on?"
I scowled. "Leave this room or I yell 'Red'."
He chuckled. "We're rather testy when we have food poisoning, aren't we?"
"Urgh!" I jumped off the bed and stumbled to the living room, curling up on the couch with a grunt.
I heard him before I saw him. "Bella?" he said softly, his feet making slapping sounds on the floor.
"Go 'way," I mumbled.
"Bella, if you really want me to leave, then I'm more than happy to."
I nodded. "Mm-hm."
He sighed. "Fine. I'm going. I guess I'll just have to stay the entire day away from you, wondering whether you're dead or alive or hurt or well…"
"Leave, Edward." I rolled over and clenched my hands into fists, waving them above the edge of the couch for added effect.
"Fine!" he said, slightly more harshly. "Then you don't get a goodbye kiss, either!"
I grimaced as the door slammed shut with a bang. That was really, really unfair. The newly started ringing of the phone just made it doubly worse. I groaned as I stretched out my hand towards the phone, dangling it in my fingers as I picked it up off of the receiver.
"Hello?" I said grumpily, glaring at its dinky little white antenna.
"Bella? Is this you?"
I gulped, and quickly plastered a smile on my face. "Hey, Victoria," I said, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What a pleasant surprise."
She sounded stern. "Bella, there's something important I would like to discuss. It's about Edward. And, coincidentally, you."
The feeling in my stomach reminded me of the Titanic—it was sinking. And fast.
A/N: Alright, well, there's chapter seven. You may be wondering to yourself what relevance it had—the main point was the food poisoning part. Because that is important. So…keep that in mind. And is Bella's character flaw obvious yet? Because I am trying really, really hard to make it very, very apparent.
Also, I'm thinking of changing the genre of this story from plain Romance to either Romance / Humor, Romance / Drama, or Romance / General. Please tell me what you think I should do, because I'm rather ambivalent on the issue.
I really want to update by this Friday (that is my foremost goal), but I might not have enough of chapter eight finished by then with all of the work I have to do otherwise…the unfortunate thing is that if I can't update by then, I probably won't be able to update for about three weeks from now. So I'm very sorry if you don't hear from me for a while—I know exactly where I'm going with my plot, but I'm having trouble getting there.
Anyways, preview for chapter eight: Bella gets a call. And no, it's not the one from Victoria. It's from a mysterious source that we have heard of in the course of this story but have as yet to meet. Ooooh…and Lauren is starting to play a much larger part.
Okay, question of the day: what do you think Victoria is calling about? I'd like to know what the ending—let's call it a cliffhanger, for all intents and purposes—left you with.
So, review!
