Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight!
After that fateful day of shifting drum sets with Mr. Cullen—I am not calling him by his first name—I had thought that he would be on the war-path.
He wasn't. He was however, somewhat worse.
If he showed any sign of emotion that would have been a blessing.
But he remained frustratingly indifferent as if nothing had happened.
Which, according to either of us, it hadn't. So, he stayed stubbornly quiet throughout the rest of the lunch detentions that week. He mumbled tired 'yes's or 'no's, he would order me to go do some photocopying for him, probably just to get me out of the room so he wouldn't have to look at me.
I knew how annoying the sight of my face could get, I mean, hey, I'm the one who had to look at it every day in my own reflection. Where was the justice in that?
He refused to talk directly to me in class, and during detention, we sat in the middle of the staff room so as to not be stuck alone with me.
What? Did he think I was going to try to indecently assault him?
I pondered this. Maybe I shouldn't be left alone with him. But that distracts from the point, he loathed me. He may not verbally acknowledge this fact, but I could see the seething beneath his eyes whenever they accidentally locked on mine.
I could see the hate, and I knew it was just, but I still couldn't fathom a fibre of hate for him in return. I also wished he could still change his mind, perhaps I was going crazy. It was Friday. Again. It was last session, again. And I had English.
Cue the groan. It was like being dowsed with icy water whenever his eyes landed on me. I tried to avoid looking up the front at all anymore, period. He would just glare or narrow his eyes, shaking his head then start talking again in a tighter voice.
I wanted to bang my head against the fucking table, causing a brain haemorrhage.
What a tasteful ending. My morbid day dreaming was interrupted, yet again by someone snapping out my name frustration clear in his tone.
"Bella Swan, outside. Now!" he raised his voice.
I had given up paying attention in class—any classes for that entire week. I was investing all my brain power into forgetting that moment in the Drama room. Either that or let it kill me.
I stood up woodenly, setting my jaw, letting my chair scrape roughly against the floor.
I huffed, leaving my books strewn over the desk and stalking out the door that he held open.
I tried not to let my breathing hitch when I brushed past him out the door.
Keeping with the stubborn, angst, teenage facade, I marched straight through the hallway, pacing. When he turned to face me, closing the door, I broke. My tear ducts reacted like the selfish bitches they were, tears welled in my eyes.
I sucked in a breath, biting my lip to hold in the sobs that were threatening to engulf my form. I turned my head and searched for a retreat. THE JANITOR'S CLOSET. Childish, cliche' and fucking perfect. I broke into a sprint, wrenching the door open and stumbling inside.
I heard his footsteps behind me, running to keep up, I'm just surprised I made it the whole sixteen feet without stacking it against the linoleum. My ragged, hitched breathing was the only sound in the muffled room.
He came into view and I turned around, facing the back shelfing that homed domestic chemicals—used mostly to clean the bathrooms or to mop up puke...it happened occasionally. When people were too light stomached to endure blood testing in Biology.
I held my hand to my mouth, trying to smother the heart-wrenching wails. I was falling apart, over some stupid fucking thing. Over a man—over a teacher! The fact that I was so pathetic only made me want to cry even more. "Bella," he sighed, his hand touching my shoulder.
I flinched away, almost falling into the mop and bucket at my feet. He dropped his hand. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice veiled with a calm air. I wanted to punch his pretty face. Why did he have to be so comforting when I was trying to hate him? When I was trying to get on with my life and date Jacob?
Yes, Jacob. My once plutonic friend had turned into my very affectionate boyfriend all in a matter of minutes earlier this week.
I had spent almost every waking minute with that boy; he was aiding my mission to get over this silly one-sided infatuation.
I had spent yesterday afternoon over his house. The memory filled my mind for a moment as I stared into his strained green eyes.
I sat down on the couch, Jacob sat down next to me, pulling me to his chest. I obliged, letting him hug me close. I snuggled with him for a while, feeling warm and safe in his capable company. His hand smoothed my long brown hair down my back, twirling it around his fingers occasionally. We were watching some sport—lame.
His hand moved to my face, pulling it up to his and staring into my eyes. He gazed into me for a moment, he stared so deeply that I was afraid he would see right through me. I didn't want to hurt Jacob because of my selfishness. But, when you get hurt, you need someone. People like to pretend they're strong.
But it often results in standing on the edge of a bridge. I smiled warmly up at him.
This was how I was going to be, I was going to be with Jacob. I was alright with this future.
Well, marginally. I knew the alternate path—but, that was one that was impossible to follow.
With Jacob, it was a straight, flat concrete sidewalk. With Edward, I mean, fucking, Mr. Cullen, it would be a treacherous mountain hike with sharp rocks and pot holes. He cupped my cheek, stroking my cheek with his thumb like he did that first day at school. I sighed as he closed his eyes and found my lips with his.
I waited numbly as he kissed down my neck.
I ran my hands through his hair, feeling sufficiently guilty for wanting the bronze tousled array that haunted my dreams. We were making out for a fair while on my couch, he lay on top of me, keeping most of his weight hovering above me. This was travelling into uncomfortable territory. His big hand slid up my side, over my ribs then down again, his fingers curling under my shirt and grazing softly against my skin.
I went rigid, our kissing stopped.
He sighed, dropping his face into the crook of my neck.
"I'm sorry, Bella. If it makes you uncomfortable..." he trailed off, shrugging. I considered it for a moment. Maybe it didn't feel right...but...may as well get as much damage in as I could.
I was a masochist. I needed the pain, something different, I needed someone else's touch to erase his.
And then it was his voice that woke me up from my trance.
"Bella, for goodness sake." He breathed, exasperated.
I dropped my hands from my face, clenching them into fists at my sides.
I tried to keep the bravado but failed as the tears streamed relentlessly down my face. "For goodness sake, what? What do you want from me?" I hissed at him, angry that I was showing weakness and in front of him of all people.
He frowned, his green eyes brooding silently. He sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair.
I noticed he did that a lot when he was stressed. This was a very stressful situation for us both.
"I don't want anything from you, Bella." He said, accentuating what he was saying with his hands.
I crossed my arms across my chest. "Then why are we in here?" I challenged. "You ran in here!"
I scoffed.
"Whatever." I muttered, rolling my eyes. "I didn't ask you to follow me." I waited for a snappy remark, something condescending to say to me.
He didn't say anything, he stayed dead silent. "So, why did you?" I hedged, pressing his buttons. I knew how to piss him off; question his motives. I uncrossed my arms, stepping closer to his rigid body. We stood inches apart.
"Why are you so angry with me?" I questioned.
"I mean, I know I crossed a line, but...I only expected you to be shocked and...a little disgusted. But you!" I said in an accusing tone.
"You flat out fucking hate me!" I whisper-screeched.
"Am I that repulsive?" I asked in a whisper, not expecting an answer.
He didn't give one. I hung my head and breathed in shakily, wiping more tears away.
"Then leave me alone to wallow." I demanded. I tried stepping around him, keeping my arms close to my body, not wanting to touch him but also dying to.
"Bella," he snapped out of his rigidness to harshly grab my arm before I made my escape. "What?" I asked with barely and volume. "I...I—you, you don't..." he took a deep breath, gently prying his fingers off my wrist. The tension crackled in the air...
His breath brushed my face and being in such a small space with him was really testing my control.
I could feel my fingers twitching toward him, begging to let them touch him. To run them over his chest...through his hair...
He turned his face to me, locking me in his hypnotic gaze. I felt my heart tug in his direction. The connection we had could not be imagined. I couldn't have hallucinated this. It felt stronger and more real even after an entire week of aloofness from both of us.
"I'm sorry I kissed you," I said stiffly. His eyes closed tightly before opening and blinking rapidly, he sighed.
"Listen to me," he said.
"I apologise sincerely if I gave you the wrong idea...I—Bella, this," he motioned between the two of us.
"This would not only be wrong it would be illegal." He stated bluntly.
"I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, but I don't harbour any romantic feelings towards you, do you understand?" I glared at the ceiling before looking back down at him. "Yes," I snapped. "I understand completely." My voice broke.
I pushed the door open.
"You. Are. Anything. But. Repulsive."
Thats what I thought I heard him whisper to himself as the door shut between us. But of course, my creative, eccentric imagination got the better of me.
It was only feeding me what I wanted to hear. I wanted so desperately to hear him say those kind of things to me.
If I had made any progress this week, it was completely fucking annihilated in those mere minutes spent with Edward in the janitor closet. Let's get a grip on reality, shall we? People got hurt all the time, they didn't fall apart like this.
You were only supposed to experience this type of pain when someone you love dies. Nobody had died, everyone was very much alive. So why did it feel that way? The tightening in my chest, my blurred vision, the dry lump in my throat, the throbbing in my brain?
Why was it all there? In that simple sentence, my universe had been obliterated, just from a few uttered words. Once they reached my ears...I felt my eyes sting, the fiery ache of desire burning ever hotter. Was it whenever he rejected me, I found him impossibly more attractive?
I guess it was true what they say, you always want what you can't have. That was true in some instances, like for me.
But Jacob had me and he still presumably wanted me. But as I pondered this—taking a detour to the girls bathroom instead of the English room—Jacob didn't really have me. Not really. Not the way he thought he did. I ran away with my heart in tatters, locking myself in the same cubical. I could see a routine sprouting.
The hurt and angst over this situation was raking over my nerves.
I needed to take the edge off and I knew exactly how to do so.
~~~___~~~
It was lucky how it all planned out, really. Jacob had offered for me to go with him to La Push tonight and get drunk with his buddies.
I had never gotten drunk before. I didn't know what it felt like, only other people's perspectives of what it was like.
Even then, I think they exaggerated a little, just to seem cool, which was beyond me. I didn't understand that crap.
Jacob drove over to my house late afternoon. I had skipped the rest of that lesson, not wanting anymore to do with him now that I was sure of his feelings. He took in my mood and decided not to act all lovey-dovey. I kind of felt bad, but I was too pissed in that moment to really care. I hoped I could drown the sorrow away somehow tonight.
I hopped into Jake's Volkswagen rabbit as it idled on the kerb. I waved goodbye to Charlie as he stood, arms folded at the front porch.
He nodded gruffly, acting aloof toward my new boyfriend. He didn't know my other preferences—luckily.
He was getting it easy. We took off down the highway, passing his house on the way to get some blankets so we could sit at the top of the cliffs. He also produced a lighter for the bonfire from his pocket. It was stylish, the metal engraved with the picture of a naked lady.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing, he seemed embarrassed about it. That just made me giggle.
He would have been more defensive, but when he realised it was pulling me out of my depressing funk, he laughed along with me. The sun was setting and it was mostly dark when we reached the cliffs.
The second I stepped out of the car, the Quileute boys surrounded me like I was a steak and they were hungry little bears.
I felt uneasy around them all but they were incredibly friendly and silly. They joked and teased Jacob about having his first girlfriend.
He blushed and I found it cute. I smiled. I was glad that I was still capable of happiness, no matter how shallow this happiness was.
He walked around the car, draping a thick woollen blanket over my shoulders before sitting me down on one of the logs around the un-lit pile of branches. Jacob introduced me to his friends, Embry and Quil.
Embry offered me a drink, I took it without hesitation, not even knowing what the fuck it was but sculling it down like it was the source of life. Jacob quirked an eyebrow, laughing. I shrugged. He shrugged too and handed me drink after drink.
A haze was slowly layering over my brain...my senses becoming less sharp. I sighed sleepily and leaned my head against Jacob's knee.
He sat on the log and I found myself sitting at his feet on the ground.
He tried to get me to sit up beside him but I was stubborn and couldn't be bothered getting up. I had no idea what I was drinking and had eventually lost track of how many I had actually practically inhaled.
I held up a shot glass full of what was most likely rum or whiskey or something. The other's raised theirs. "To the game next week, shall we kick Jacob's little bitch ass!" Embry cheered. I raised my glass.
"Woo!" I crowed, not even caring that I should be defending Jacob.
"I'm sorry, what was that, Embry?" Jacob asked mockingly. "I, I can't hear you, your vagina is so big, it just muffles all your words." He said, grinning cockily.
I laughed out loud before tipping the glass up, swallowing the bitter brown liquid. I screwed up my face, coughing a bit as the strength of the drink took my breath away.
I knew I would someday regret acting this way.
I knew that when you were grieving—I called it grieving because thats what it felt like—you shouldn't be trying to solve your problems by numbing them temporarily and dealing with them later. You needed to stand up to them, face them head on and with your dignity.
As for me, well, I guess it was too late for that.
Oh, have you noticed the growing tension? It's...delicious! Beleive me, it will get even worse for her, too. ;)
MWAHAHA *evil witch cackles*
Reviews are better than vagina jokes!
