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HELLO. THIS IS AN EDWARD POINT OF VIEW CHAPTER. OKAY. JUST TRYING TO CATCH YOUR ATTENTION. CARRY ON.


Portland, Oregon
December 25
12:32 am

EPOV

"Wow. This dude is fucking terrible."

"It's karaoke. No one is actually supposed to be good," I muse. But yeah, this guy is awful. I didn't realize someone could butcher Jingle Bells this badly.

"It's not just karaoke, Edward. It's Christmas Carol-oke," Bella deadpans. "Get it right."

I cut my eyes to her. She's been in a terrible mood ever since we arrived in Portland. To be honest, she's basically been in a bad mood since I first met her, but up until now there was always a joking undertone to whatever she was saying. So of course, I've found it highly amusing.

"'Nother round?" the bartender asks.

I look at Bella's pint, then shake my head.

"Maybe in a few," I tell him.

This bar wouldn't be my first choice, but Bella wanted to come in. Because it was the closest place with alcohol, she'd said. There's a broken jukebox in the corner and the stool Bella is sitting on has a broomstick handle in place of a leg. It's dingy, and the Christmas lights hanging around the bar don't really do much.

"Merry Christmas," the guy who was singing says into the mic. "But not to you, Rhonda. You fucking bitch. But to everyone else, Merry Christmas!"

"Christmas can suck my dick," Bella mumbles in response.

"Are... you okay?"

"What?" she asks louder than necessary.

"Are you okay?" I ask again, but lean closer so my mouth is by her ear.

She pulls back a bit, eyes flicking to my mouth. "I'm fine. Why?"

"Because you're being more of a Scrooge than usual."

I decide not to push it when she only responds with a shrug. If she wants to talk, she will.

She chugs the remaining beer in her glass, then orders another. And another. And occasionally I'll order us a whiskey shot to switch things up. This goes on for a while until she's drunk and I'm partially buzzed.

Of course, I don't realize just how drunk she is until she announces she has to pee and slides off the barstool. I grab her by the waist to steady her, and she places her hands on my shoulders. She stands straight, then laughs, because almost diving face-first onto the floor is apparently hilarious.

"Hey, I'm gonna help you to the bathroom," I tell her, keeping a hand on her waist.

She shakes her head in time as she says, "Nope, nope, nope."

"Okay, but you can't even walk, and—"

"Don't tell me I can't walk," she slurs. "I've walked every day of my life so don't tell me I can't walk because I can walk."

I hold my hands up. "Fair enough. You can walk."

She takes two steps, which is good. But they're not straight, and she tips sideways, which isn't good.

"How about the person who can walk a straight line gets to make the decisions?" I suggest.

"I'm fine, dude. You don't even know how fine I am."

I raise both eyebrows. I don't think that's a conversation she wants to get into right now.

"Okay." I scrub a hand over my face, not sure how to deal with this situation. "You go to the bathroom, I'll pay for our drinks, and then we can head back to the hotel."

"No hotel." She pulls her hair over her shoulder, then attempts to give me a stern look. "Let's drink more."

"What?" I grab her elbow before she walks off. "Bella, it's almost one in the morning and we have to wake up early to drive to Seattle."

"I'm not going to Seattle anymore. So, how about you go to the hotel and I stay here. And drink. And be fucking merry."

"What? When did the plan change? You're going to Seattle. I'm not going to leave you here alone, Bella."

"No," she says slowly, drawing out the word. "I'm not going to Seattle. I called my dad earlier, okay? Mr. Nosy Guy." She shoves my shoulder. "My dad isn't even in Seattle so now I have to spend Christmas alone like an orphan."

"I'm sorry," I tell her, placing both hands on her shoulders as I bend my knees so we're eye-level. I still don't know what the hell she's going on about, but it's clear she's upset. So I tell her, "Whatever it is, we'll figure something out, okay?"

"But it's not your problem, man. So just head back and I'll stay here and drink and blah blah blah."

"I know it's not my problem, Bella. Let's go back to the hotel and you can explain to me whatever the hell is going on, okay?"

Looking down, she nods, then heads toward the bathroom. I keep an eye on her until she disappears behind the door. After closing out my tab, I wait for her by the entrance. She takes a little longer than expected, and I'm about to go check on her when she makes her way toward me.

"I threw up," she whispers, leaning close. I can't smell anything, which is good. But her cheeks are stained with tears and there's black shit under her eyes.

I step back a bit, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"I am now. I'm sorry I puked. Are you mad?"

"You didn't puke on me, so no. I'm not mad."

"Okay. Just… don't be mad at me."

"Bella," I chuckle. "I'm not mad."

She hiccups. "Okay."

I ask if she's ready to go and she nods. I usher her in front of me, keeping a hand on her waist as I lead her out the door. It's cold outside, and she's not wearing a jacket because she insisted she wouldn't be cold. But now she's complaining that she's going to freeze to death, and instead of telling her she should've brought a jacket, I give her mine.

We're only a few blocks from the hotel, but with how slow and wobbly she's walking, it'll take us all night.

"Edward?" she asks. I turn to face her, but her focus is on the ground. "Will you give me a piggyback ride?"

I have to laugh. Her request is the most ridiculous thing to me. This girl is the most ridiculous thing to me, because I never know what the hell she's going on about. And I'm pretty sure half the time she's just trying to piss me off.

But since she's cold and drunk and can't properly walk, I drop to my knees and tell her to get on.


Thanks for waiting... and reading. Luv u guyz 4ever.

Kim and Vic are awesome for DOING THEIR ABSOLUTE BEST WITH THIS CHAPTER. no JOKE.