Disclaimer: Alright kids, this is getting old. You know who Stephenie Meyer is, right? Yeah…me neither
Author's Note: Thank you to reetinkerbell, jaciira, and readingrobyn for their wicked beta reading skills. It's necessary, for me. What one doesn't catch, someone else will I've noticed. They help, so much, to make this story presentable and readable. It's Thursday! Which means Release Party tomorrow! I haven't updated my LJ in a while (because of internet problems) but I will as soon as I finish reading the book, probably Saturday evening or Sunday morning. I'd love to talk with anyone and everyone about it—so eccentricchams over there, as well. I'll make my entry and opinion on the book public so we can discuss, if you'd like! And, then, I'll post the next chapter probably Monday or Tuesday? Depending when I get it back from my Beta's, actually. Anyhoo, read on!
Misadventures in Online Dating
Chapter Eight: Of Failed Attempts and Performances
Friday, June 13th (B)
I couldn't even begin to describe how much I hated Mike Newton. No, not hate—he hadn't intentionally done anything wrong. Loathed? Disliked with a very strong passion? He didn't even know it but he had completely ruined everything. That's the only thought that passed through my head as I waited for my messenger to log me in. Perhaps if he was online too, I could talk to him and salvage what I could of our relationship. Or friendship, whatever, I just didn't want him to think I was a bitch.
I scrolled down my friends list, but he wasn't online. I had nothing to do while I waited, even Alice wasn't home. I convinced her that I would be all right on my own, tonight. Oh, how wrong I was.
Having the house to myself was nothing new. As of late, Alice was prone to disappearing for the weekends or for a night at any given time. She practically lived with Jasper and I didn't want to sound like a big baby and tell her being in this house alone sort of frightened me at night.
However, any ghost stories were far from my mind. I was determined to talk to him, and I was determined to have him believe me.
Just an hour ago I'd nervously waited in my car for a moment, checking my reflection in the mirror once more. I was far from perfect, but I wanted to look nice for him, for our first meeting. I touched up my lip-gloss and quickly got out the car. I was sure to lock the doors before heading in the direction of the restaurant.
As I neared the front entrance, the host at the door smiled at me.
"Hey!"
I wasn't even sure whom the person was yelling for but my first reaction was to turn around. I immediately regretted that decision.
"Bella, hey! Wait up," he said, jogging to a halt in front of me.
"Mike…hey," I said, sounding as uninterested as I could.
"How are you? I haven't heard from you in a while. Is everything okay?"
"Yes, I was just out," I stated, trying to think up a lie but I couldn't come up with anything on the spot at all.
"Did you need some company? Were you going to eat?" he asked, genuinely.
"Oh, I already ordered something to go and forgot to ask for…bread rolls," I lied.
"I see," he said, smiling.
"Yep…" I trailed off, walking up the few steps to the door, knowing that Mike would be following me. "Me again," I said to the host who threw me a smirk. "Just coming back for some more bread rolls…"
I launched a slew of curse words to no one in particular in my head.
Mike came up behind me, "I didn't even know they did 'to go' orders, here."
That's because they don't.
"Oh, it's new, I think."
The host disappeared from the door and I teetered on the idea of actually going inside.
"Really? I'll have to try that sometime."
The host reappeared with a brown paper bag in his hand. "Your bread rolls, miss."
My eyes opened wide for a moment, before my face broke out into a grin. "Oh, thank you. Thank you, so much," I said, reaching for the bag. I reached into my purse, grabbing a ten dollar bill to hand to him.
"No, I couldn't," he said, shaking his head.
"Please, do," I told him, taking a step forward to place the bill in his shirt pocket. "Don't let it slip out, and thank you—again."
He smiled at me and I turned to walk back down the stairs, Mike of course followed.
"So what are you going to do now, then?"
"Go home and eat." I hadn't even thought about the man waiting for me inside. How was I going to get inside without Mike seeing? This entire evening was ruined. "I'll talk to you some other time, Michael." I said, simply, wishing I could have done that at the very beginning of the conversation.
He still didn't seem to get the point. I got in my car anyways and started the ignition. I drove around for a while, checking to see if anyone was following me before I actually started to drive home.
The chiming of a bell brought me back to my computer screen—he had signed in.
I immediately clicked on his name and started typing, but he beat me to it.
Mr. Vanquish: Fancy seeing you here.
I could practically see the sarcasm dripping from the words on the screen.
Viva La Vida: I know. I'm really, really, really, really, truly very sorry!
Mr. Vanquish: You could have at least had the decency to tell me you changed your mind before I spent an hour and a half waiting.
Viva La Vida: I'm sorry, I really, truly am! I ran into…a bit of trouble.
That was a very tame way of addressing the Mike situation.
Mr. Vanquish: Cold feet.
Mr. Vanquish: No, you're something like a coward, maybe?
Mr. Vanquish: Or worse. I never thought you would stand me up. You should have just said no.
Viva La Vida: It wasn't like that, I swear. This man that I went on a date with saw me walking into the restaurant. I made up a lie about why I was there and it just got complicated.
Mr. Vanquish: Why would you have to lie to him?
Viva La Vida: I don't know. I just didn't want to hurt his feelings or anything.
Mr. Vanquish: Sure.
Viva La Vida: You don't believe me?
Mr. Vanquish: Not really, no.
Viva La Vida: You can ask the host at the door, he witnessed the entire thing!
Mr. Vanquish: It may be strange to say I expected better from you. I expected you to be real, to be brave enough to meet me, and you couldn't even do that
Viva La Vida: That's not what happened!
I was growing frustrated. Was he not reading anything I wrote at all?
Mr. Vanquish: And here I was, actually starting to develop feelings for you
Viva La Vida: I'm so, so sorry
Mr. Vanquish: Yeah, me too…
I didn't even know what to type, but my finger flew over the keys. Before I could press send, he signed offline.
I sighed, leaning back into the chair, devastated—to say the least.
I could only wish to be able to go back in time. To arrive earlier to the date, and I would have never run into Mike. Everything would have gone according to plan. I would have met this mysterious Mr. Vanquish, and we would have hit it off. I was sure of it.
I shut the computer off and trudged up the stairs to my room, lying flat across my bed.
I figured out that I was a jinx and that Friday the 13th just wasn't a good day for me.
Saturday, May 21st
The next week seemed to take forever to go by. Work was slow, and even the sight of Edward and Alice grinning about something or other didn't cheer me up. When Saturday came rolling by I wasn't looking forward to Jasper's gig in the slightest. I was more in the mood for curling up on the sofa and watching Titanic and Wuthering Heights in alternation.
That wasn't acceptable for Alice, however. She told me this would help to pull me out of my so called 'funk'.
We drove to a house—in the middle of nowhere—with very little help from mapquest. The house was large, white, and somewhat round from the looks of it. It wasn't even a house, more like a mansion.
"Are there going to be a lot of people here?" I asked Alice as we got out of the car.
"I'm not sure," she shrugged.
"Was I supposed to bring a gift?"
She laughed at that.
"It was just a question," I muttered, not in the mood for her banter. We walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. It wasn't long before a woman with long, dark brown hair and warm hazel eyes answered the door.
"Hello," she greeted us with a warm smile.
I wasn't sure who she was or what to say.
"Everyone is in the backyard," she told us, "I'm Esme, by the way."
"Nice to meet you, Esme. I'm Alice," Alice said, extending a hand towards the woman.
I followed in suit, "Bella."
Her hands were so soft, and well taken care of, it seemed.
"Alice and…Isabella?" She nodded, "Edward was telling me about the two of you—you work at the marketing firm, correct?"
We both nodded, entering the house as she gestured for us to do so.
"I'm his mother, and this is our home—if Jasper wasn't so charming I doubt I would have allowed all of this," she teased, leading us through the large house towards the backyard.
"He has that affect on people," Alice beamed, throwing me a wink.
I smiled at her as Esme opened the door to the backyard. "There's food and drinks outside; I'll be in here preparing things a little more."
"Do you need any help?" I offered, hoping to escape the crowd of people in their backyard, if it could be called that. They appeared to have acres of grassland and forest.
"No, thank you, darling. But if I do need help, I will ask you," she said.
I refrained from pouting as I stepped outside.
"Look at him, Bells, isn't he just gorgeous?" Alice gushed, motioning towards the stage that was set up. Jasper was standing on it, his guitar strapped over his shoulder. There was a small band behind him though many of the instruments were abandoned. Perhaps they were taking a break, as no music was playing either.
I looked around, not seeing many familiar faces but the people, somehow, managed to look very important. I smiled at whoever looked my way, not wanting to come off as rude or offensive. I assumed they were record executives and things of the like.
"Well, well, well, look who made it," drawled the velvety smooth voice that could only belong to one man.
I turned, but Alice continued on her way to Jasper.
"Edward," I said, curtly.
He smiled at me, his green eyes blazing in the orange light of the setting sun.
"This is my brother, Emmett, and his fiancée, Rosalie," he said, gesturing towards them as he said their names.
"You did the business cards?" Emmett asked, shaking my hand. He was taller than Edward, and more bulkily built. He had curly hair and hazel eyes that matched Esme's perfectly.
"Alice and I worked on them together, yes," I told him.
"Nice. Thank you."
"You're welcome," I said. I shifted my gaze to the blonde haired beauty standing next to him. I could have been thinking it, or it could have been the setting sun in the background, but she did appear to have an aura around her. She was strikingly beautiful and I felt so…average in her presence.
"Nice to meet you," she said, shaking my hand softly. Her fingers felt oddly calloused, indicating that she probably worked with her hands a lot. "Isabella, is it?"
I shrugged my shoulders, "Sure." I offered a smile, to make it seem a bit friendlier.
At the moment, I could care less what people were calling me.
"We'll have to catch up with you later," Rosalie said, politely wrapping her arm around Emmett's waste. He nodded at me and his brother before they walked around us.
"You still down?" Edward asked.
Monday at work we both appeared to be in similar moods of despair, but his was gone within minutes of his arrival. He was smiling and joking with Alice in no time. The next time we met, on Thursday he was grinning and as positive as ever.
"I didn't really want to come here. You knew that."
He shrugged, "Are you hungry? Or thirsty?"
I shook my head. "No, thank you."
"You aren't going to be this way the whole night, are you?" he asked, draping an arm over my shoulder.
I hadn't been expecting it but I didn't push his arm away either. Instead, I leaned into his embrace even more.
"The first time I get you in a non-work environment and you're in a sour mood." He leaned in towards my ear to tsk at me a few times.
"I'm sorry. I'll get better, I'm sorry. I think I'll take you up on your off of a drink.."
"Stop apologizing. What would you like?"
"Do you have anything with alcohol?"
He chuckled, and let his arm drop from my shoulder. "I'm not going to let you drown your sorrows in alcohol."
"I'm not drowning any sorrows," I told him, "I'd just rather have something to drink with a bit of a kick. I won't even get remotely drunk or buzzed for that matter."
"Alright, I'll monitor your drinking, then."
"If it makes you happy," I told him. We walked back into his house. His mother was still bustling about in the kitchen.
"You should have just gotten a caterer, mom," he told her, sneaking up behind her to place a soft kiss on her cheek.
It was strange to see that. We weren't in a working environment, and this felt like a very private moment or scene in his life that I shouldn't have witnessed.
"Nonsense," she said, pulling something out of the oven that smelled absolutely delicious.
"Mom, I'd like you to meet someone," he said then, and I felt myself blushing.
"We already met," I spoke up and she turned to look at me.
"Yes we did," she said, setting down the tray and taking off her oven mitts. "You failed to tell me how beautiful she is, Edward. Shame on you."
My cheeks felt overheated as I smiled, they must have looked like bold, alarming, red stop signs.
"Shame on me," he agreed, eyeing me to see my reaction. One corner of his mouth lifted and I felt my heart flutter.
"…that drink?" I asked.
"Of course. We're going around to the bar," he said, addressing his mom for the last part.
We walked out of the kitchen and I took in the house more than I had the first time through. It was predominantly white, walls and furniture alike. It was abstract in design as you never really came across a round house these days. In the living room there was a large television screen, three plush looking sofas and a bar against the side wall. We stopped there and he walked around it.
"What will it be, then?"
"Hmm, what've you got?" I asked, taking a seat on the stool across from him.
"Anything you can name. And even more that you probably can't."
I bit my bottom lip, thinking of the very few alcoholic beverage names that I knew. Which left me with no decent requests.
"Surprise me."
He grinned, and took out two glasses. He pulled out two bottles of Malibu, offering them out to me and I pointed to the coconut flavored bottle. He left that one on the counter and put the other away. He opened a little refrigerator and took out ice, putting them into the glasses. Next he took out a small carton of fruit punch and a small carton of orange juice.
"A mixer," he told me, pouring the Malibu into the glasses, followed it up with the two fruit juices and lastly, more Malibu. He pushed mine towards me as he put everything back in the designated spot, shutting the mini refrigerator.
I picked up the drink, shaking it a little before taking a sip. It slid down smoothly, tasting fruity and tangy. I licked my lips afterward, savoring the flavor.
He was watching me, expectantly.
"Delicious," I told him and he grinned, walking around the bar.
"Come, I want to show you something," he said, placing his hand gently on my arm.
Even through the fabric of my shirt I could feel the heat. I stood from the stool and followed him. He led me back towards the front door. I noticed, for the first time, the piano tucked inconspicuously under the stairs.
"That was a sixteenth birthday present," he told me, pointing at the piano.
"Wow," I muttered, taking another sip. "You play?"
"A little," he told me. We passed the piano and ascended the stairs, which wound up being longer than I expected—the house was three stories.
Once on the landing, we walked down the hallway, pictures of the family aligning the wall on the way. We stopped at the last door in the hallway. He paused for a second before pushing it open, allowing me to enter first.
The room was very…spacious. A large bed was placed in the middle, records and CD's aligned every available space on the walls.
"Your room?" I asked.
He nodded, "It's been the same since I was in high school."
"I take it you like music?"
"A little," he said again.
I rolled my eyes, walking to the back wall of his home. If you could even call it a wall as it was made up entirely of glass. I leaned to look out of it and refrained from placing my hands on it, not wanting to leave any prints.
"This is a beautiful home," I told him, my eyes roaming over the gathering of people down below. The sound of Jasper singing made its way up and through the window. He really did have a lot of talent.
"Tell that to my mother. She decorated the entire place herself," he told me.
"I think she and Alice would get along very well," I said, turning to look at him, smiling.
He had already finished his drink and placed the empty cup down on his dresser, on top of a piece of paper substituting for a coaster.
"Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the long, black sofa just a few feet away from where I stood. I did as instructed, the velvet material molded against my frame.
"Is this what you wanted to show me?" I asked.
"There was never anything to show, but you didn't want to be surrounded by all those people you don't know. I figured you could at least enjoy the show from up here in your own silence," he explained.
"Oh, thank you, Edward. That was really sweet of you but you didn't have to do that. I'm just being a baby, I can handle the crowd," I assured him, starting to get up from the sofa.
He pressed a hand to my shoulder, gently forcing me back down. He came to sit next to me.
We sat in silence for a little while, listening to Jasper play, and the applause that erupted after. Edward turned to look at me, smiling softly.
"I'm glad you decided to come today," he told me.
"Me too."
"I would have been hiding up here alone if you hadn't."
"Glad to give you my presence," I joked.
We fell into a very light conversation. I asked about his family, and he even dared to pry me about Charlie a little. I asked how he fell into his current profession. He told me how he always liked cars, ever since he was little. He talked about cars with such passion that a very tiny bell began ringing in the back of my head.
How common of a name was Edward?
How common of a name was Edward that belonged to a man who played piano and was passionate about cars?
Mr. Vanquish had been plaguing my thoughts so much recently. Never before had I focused solely on him in my real life, he was always only present in my mind when I sat at the computer. Now, though, he was everywhere. I began taking things into consideration, wondering why I hadn't thought of this before.
Probably because it was very unlikely.
He said he hated technology.
Thus, he wouldn't use an internet dating site.
He said he loved cars.
Not that he owned an entire dealership.
I could mismatch the pieces all day, but I didn't want to concentrate on it. It all seemed ridiculous in my head. I had taken to calling him Mr. Vanquish rather than Edward since the first time we shared an instant messaging conversation, purely because it was more interesting—and he always addressed me as Vida.
About an hour later, we found ourselves out in the backyard once more. It was a lot cooler outside with the sun completely gone. There were more stars up above us now than I could ever recall seeing in the city.
"Edward!" Jasper called from upstage. "My piano player is a little drunk. He's throwing the sound off completely…"
Edward immediately shook his head, but Emmett came up—out of nowhere—and slapped him in the shoulder, pushing him towards the stage.
Edward begrudgingly went up, sitting himself down behind the piano. His posture was perfect, I noticed. His hand stretched out easily in front of him and he looked up at Jasper, waiting for the signal. Jasper gave him a curt nod and his fingers flew over the keys.
"This song is a new…I've just finished it a few days ago so be nice and let me know what you think."
I saw the businessmen looking a little more alert.
Alice came to stand next to me, "Where did you disappear off to?"
"I was in Edward's room…watching from up there," I told her.
"Oh. Hmmm, interesting." She said, throwing me a teasing look.
"Shut up, it wasn't like that, but listen…I need to talk to you."
"Oh. My. God. He has to stop doing this."
I looked up as Jasper began singing.
"Sunday morning rain is falling. Steal some covers share some skin. Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable, you twist to fit the mold that I am in. But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do. And I would gladly hit the road, get up and go if I knew. That someday it would lead me back to you."
I must admit, my eyes were really focused on Edward. He looked so at ease and natural behind the piano, evoking sounds from the instrument that I never knew were possible.
"Doing what?" I asked.
"Listen to the lyrics, Bells. It's embarrassing."
I furrowed my brows, focusing on the lyrics as she said. "No it's romantic, it's cute."
"It's descriptive."
"You act like everyone knows he's talking about you," I told her.
"Well when he's eyeing me from the stage like that and kissing me in between takes—I'm sure they'll give it a thought."
"You're over analyzing it."
"Fingers trace your every outline, yeah, yeah, yeah. Paint a picture with my hands. Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm. Change the weather, still together when it ends."
On the other hand, maybe she was right.
"That may be all I need, in darkness she is all I see. Come and rest your bones with me, driving slow on Sunday morning—and I never want to leave."
I nudged her playfully, "You two had sex, on a Sunday morning," I teased.
She glared at me, "You're so virginal."
I nudged her again, slightly harder than before.
She stumbled, giggling madly at me. I rolled my eyes, turning to watch them play. Or watch him play, rather. I shut my eyes, listening to the piano notes that soared above the rest. He was taking his own solo. My eyes fluttered open. The notebook in front of him was closed, he was going off the top of his head. His long, skilled fingers flew over the keys, hitting every note perfectly.
He rocked side to side with the other music playing.
"You like him, "Alice said, at my side once more.
"May not know. That may be all I need. In darkness she is all I see. Oh, come and rest your bones with me. Driving slow, driving slow, driving slow…"
I shrugged my shoulders. "That's what I need to talk to you about tonight, once we get home, okay?"
"Uhm…about that."
"You're going to Jasper's?"
She nodded.
"Give me the keys then."
"Well, he drove here with Emmett and I sort of offered to give him a ride home. I can take you home, too, though so it's not a problem," she paused for a second. "Or, you could just ask Edward to take you. I like that idea much better."
Edward stood from behind the piano, bowing at the applause before walking off the stage, heading in our general direction.
"I'm going to ask him."
Before I could stop her, she was floating towards him. They stopped and talked, he looked over at me and smiled, nodding his head. She turned around and stuck her tongue out at me.
"I'll call you later, okay?" she called out to me before waving and walking away.
Edward put his hands in his pockets as he walked to me. "Did you want to leave now then?"
"Uhm, sure."
We went back through the house and found his mother lounging in the living room.
"I'm taking Isabella home; I'll be back in a little bit."
She stood from the couch and gracefully came to give me a hug.
"Thank you for having me in your home—for having everyone here. That was really kind of you, but I can see why you'd want to show a place like this off. It's beautiful."
"Thank you, dear. It's my pleasure," she smiled, placing a soft kiss on my cheek. She looked at her son, "You have to bring her over more often, Edward."
I looked up at him, and I could have sworn I saw his cheeks turn red, briefly. "See you in a bit, Mom."
His hand was around my arm, and he pulled me in the direction of the door.
"Have a nice night, Isabella!"
"You too, Esme," I replied before we were out the door. He led me to the open garage, grabbing his keys out of his pocket.
"These are some really nice cars," I told him.
"My father is a collector—you could say."
"Which one is yours?"
"The Aston Martin," he said, pointing to a sleek, black vehicle. "Vanquish," he added.
I immediately looked away from the car and at him. "I'm sorry?"
"Aston Martin Vanquish…it's the name of the car," he explained.
"Ah, yes…" I trailed off, moving around to the passenger door once he unlocked it. I let my hands trail along the sides of the car. It was so clean, so small, I wondered how he fit into it.
Once I opened the door though, there was a lot more room inside the car than the outside let on.
I sat in the seat and buckled myself in.
"The Aston Martin Vanquish, huh?" I repeated, letting the name roll of my tongue.
Mr. Vanquish.
"Or the Ashton Kutcher, as my mom likes to call it."
I chuckled slightly, more focused on the final coincidence that put it all together.
That didn't make sense.
Or rather, I didn't want it to make sense but in reality it all linked together so perfectly.
I told him the streets I lived on and we started out on the road, a beeping noise caught my attention. "What is that?"
"Police tracker," he said, pointing to the tiny device on his windshield. "I like to drive fast."
I looked to the speedometer, my mouth slightly agape. "Seriously!"
I brought a hand up to grip my seatbelt.
"Don't worry, you can trust me. I know these streets like the back of my hand."
"Well could you slow down just a little…please?"
"Can do," he said, easing up off the gas a little. We were doing about seventy now, but my heart was still pumping fast.
From the speed?
Or from the man sitting next to me, driving me home?
The man I had been talking to on the internet for the last month, as well as working with—as a client!
God I wanted Alice to be home so I could talk this out with her, she needed to understand this, to help me understand this.
I realized my left knee was shaking and I slapped a hand over it to stop it. I was nervous, to say the least.
"You okay?" he asked.
He must have noticed.
"I'm fine."
"Is it my driving?" he asked, letting up on the gas once more.
"No, no. I'm fine…really."
"We're nearly there," he told me.
I looked out of the tinted windows and, indeed, we were. We were in my neighborhood already.
I grasped my purse from between my legs, clicking the button to release the seatbelt when we finally came to a stop. He shifted the gears, putting the car safely in park before releasing his foot form the break, turning off the engine.
"Again, I'm glad you came—and I'm sorry if my driving makes you nervous."
"It wasn't your driving, you're a good driver."
"Mind me asking why you're knees won't stop shaking, then?"
I shrugged, unsure of what to say. "Glad to be home?" I said, attempting a weak smile.
"All right, I won't press you any further. Do you want me to walk you to the door?"
"I'll be fine, thanks," I told him, politely.
"Okay…I'll see you Tuesday then, right?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Hey—Isabella?" he called, as I pulled on the door handle. "This doesn't have anything to do with what my mom was saying, does it? She can get like that…and I don't know if that made you uncomfortable at all."
"No, not at all. Your mother is very sweet, it was more of a compliment. I'm glad she thinks of me in that way."
He nodded, "My father would have too, but he was at work."
A strange silence fell over us.
"Well, goodnight then." I said, pushing the door open. "Thank you for bringing me home."
"It's not a problem. Have a nice night."
"If I'm not haunted by ghosts; it's frightening in there," I admitted.
"Feel free to call me and I'll talk you through ghost-busting, if you need it."
I smiled, gripping onto my purse tighter. "Definitely. Goodnight, Edward."
He returned the smile and waved just before I shut the door.
I turned around and walked into the house as quickly as I could, shutting the door and turning on as many lights as I could. I sighed before lying down on the couch, clicking a button on the remote to make the television come to life.
It was background music to the drama playing out in my head.
How had this all happened? More importantly, how hadn't I noticed before?
I wasn't sure if it was possible to think so much you make yourself go insane.
I was definitely going to test the limits.
It was going to be a long night.
Sunday, June 22nd
I moved throughout the kitchen, making myself a breakfast burrito. The thoughts from last night were still lodged in my head, but I needed to take a break to eat. Some time last night I logged onto the internet, and onto match dot com. Edward wasn't online. I wanted him to be so bad. I read through his profile, which I hadn't done since the first time I emailed him, and it all seemed to make even more sense. Which made me even more uneasy about all of it.
As I flipped the eggs in the skillet, the front door opened.
Alice walked in, wearing something entirely different from last night.
"What're you cooking?" she asked, setting her things down on the coffee table. "It smells delicious."
"A breakfast burrito, do you want one?"
"Sure, thank you."
She sat on a stool against the island, her feet dangling in the air.
"How was your night?" I asked.
"Good, really good," she grinned. "Yours? Did you invite Edward in?"
"No. I nearly died just riding home in the car with him. I didn't know it was possible to think yourself to death, but I probably came close last night."
"And why is that? It's not about that guy on the internet still, is it? If he's too much of a jackass to forgive you—then just forget about him."
"That's just it, Alice. He's not a jackass. He's not a jackass at all…he is Edward," I said.
"Wait, what're you talking about?"
"Mr. Vanquish, from the internet is Edward Cullen. From work. From the café. From everything!" I told her, throwing the eggs, bacon, and hash browns onto the tortilla. "Alice, how did I not see this before? How come you didn't tell me?"
"How was I supposed to know?"
"You drove in his car—the Vanquish. That's what sealed the deal for me," I rambled.
"I didn't realize…I didn't know I was supposed to put the two together."
"You should have. You should have been paying closer attention. You know, now that you have Jasper back it's like you're never even around these days. I don't even have a real roommate anymore—should I start looking for a new one?"
She looked taken aback by my reaction. Clearly this isn't what she wanted to come home to. A rambling, vicious best friend on some sort of undefined mission.
"You should have just come home last night."
"What the hell is wrong with you, Isabella Swan?" dhe asked, sliding off the stool. "I'm sorry for not devoting every available hour of my life to you. I'm sorry for spending time with my boyfriend." She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. "You can be so selfish at times, Bella. You're always so concerned with what I should be doing for you, and you never once stopped to think that maybe I'm going through things in my life—did you? No, you didn't. You never do."
I frowned, brushing my hands off on my shirt.
"Alice I didn't realize…" I trailed off, "I-I'm sorry…"
"You should be."
And with that, she picked up her bag and left the house again.
I wasn't hungry anymore. I sat everything down and barely made it to the couch before I could curl myself up into a ball and let the tears fall.
What was I crying for?
For everything, I guess.
For Mr. Vanquish, whom I disappointed.
For Edward who was so kind to me, when he really didn't know that he wanted to hate my guts. Hate me for standing him up, inadvertently.
For Alice, who deserved so much more than I'd been giving her lately. She was the best friend I could have ever asked for; and I was too selfish to realize it.
I buried my head in my knees, not trying to prevent the tears and sobs.
I needed this. I needed to let it out.
Only after would I be able to think properly…I hoped.
I wanted the answer to everything to just dawn upon me. I wanted everything to make sense, I wanted it all solved.
I wanted Alice to forgive me.
And, ultimately:
I wanted Edward to be mine.
Hmm, how the tables are turning. Interesting, yes? So, Mike Newton sucks werewolf balls with his horrible timing. Hmm is Edward starting to like our little Bella after his "rejection" from Viva la Vida? We will have to wait until the next chapter to see. As I've sad, I will be MIA from the LJ and until after I read Breaking Dawn, don't want to be ambushed my any more spoilers. It's horrid, the one I read. I'll be thoroughly disappointed if they turn out that certain way. sigh snippets, as always with reviews. Can I be ambushed once again? I love it? I'd like to say a thanks to shirls, bookbat4ever, heroin vampire and many more whose names I recall seeing for basically every single chapter. It makes me happy! You guys are all awesome! I think I will post the prologue to my new fic very soon and I'd like you guys to tell me what you think once it's up!
Halt! I'd like to apologize for the late update. I woke up at 8 this morning and the internet at my home WOULD NOT CONNECT. So I did everything I could to find internet, and it took me until 10 at night. So, I'm sorry! Also, for everyone saying doesn't he call her Bella at work and such. He addresses her as "Miss Swan" usually but she was introduced as Isabella and that will be explained further in the next chapter, which will be up soon. BREAKING DAWN OH MY GOD. check my LJ for my thoughts/and such around SUNDAY. 'til then--Chams
