A/N: I have no excuse, I haven't given you the EPOV yet and this is majorly late. I'm very sorry. The EPOV is very nearly ready I swear. But I'm a perfectionist and I want it to be as good as I can make it.
Love and thanks to cdunbar, justjennie and JenNnNn for allowing me to vent, procrastinate and ramble.
And double love and thanks to cdunbar for being a super speedy beta. When I'm pretty sure she was at work.
Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer, The Pretender belongs to Foo Fighters.
8. I Think Of Everything I Shouldn't Say And Say It
'I'm the voice inside your head you refuse to hear
I'm the face that you have to face, mirrorin' your stare
I'm what's left, I'm what's right, I'm the enemy
I'm the hand that'll take you down, bring you to your knees
So who are you? Yeah, who are you?'
The Pretender by Foo Fighters
Two days later I finally talked to Rose, but I went through three nights of Hell first. The first two nights I dreamt of blood, the third a child. As soon as I started dreaming of children out came the pills. If Emmett thought I had been bad a couple of nights ago, he knew it was nothing compared to what happened Christmas Eve night.
Rose and Emmett had gone to a party and got in late, when it was technically Christmas Day. I, of course, had stayed behind - I hadn't been invited, but even if I had I wouldn't have gone. And when they returned home, in high Christmas spirits and drunk on the milk of human kindness, I greeted them by shrieking, flailing and crying hysterically in my sleep. I am five foot four and I weigh around one hundred and twelve pounds, but that didn't stop me punching Emmett in the nose while he tried to gently wake me up. I spent Christmas Day nursing a broken hand and basically catatonic. My dream so traumatizing, and when mixed with the nature of the day, I mentally couldn't take it and retreated so far back into my consciousness I didn't re-emerge until the Christmas tree had been taken down halfway through January. Emmett had a broken nose that had to be reset at four o'clock in the morning by a stressed and over worked ER nurse who just wanted to be at home with his family. We'd had better Christmases.
Rose booked me an appointment with the doctor shortly after our disastrous first Christmas together. The doctor prescribed me very strong sleeping pills, which I only took when my dreams started being of that deceptively angelic child. The pills felt more like tranquillizers and often left me with dangerously impaired balance, slurred voice and my brain worked so slowly I couldn't write.
So my reason for going to see Rose's play was selfish - I didn't want to take the pills.
My sympathy for Edward wore thin when I started seeing a child's smiling face in my sleep, and I knew the chance of pushing Edward into another argument would be high. I had spoken to Alice the day before. She was annoyed I still hadn't spoken to Rose, and I discovered there would be an after-show 'thing'. Basically all the teachers and any friends or family who had come to the play would hang out in the library drinking or recovering. I saw this as my chance and the desire for another night of undisturbed rest was too tempting. Even if it was the last chance I got. So I silenced my conscience, ignored my pride and simply denied the existence of my fear.
It was Friday morning and I was sitting at the breakfast bar sipping my coffee, Emmett sat across from me, eating cereal and reading the paper. I kept my head down, allowing my hair to fall down around me, shielding my face. I had woken from my dream shaking and crying. No one had rushed in but I'm sure Emmett had heard me if Rose hadn't. I didn't fall back asleep, so I was already downstairs when Emmett came down, working on my third cup of coffee. He made his breakfast, retrieved the paper and said nothing to me, apart from a good morning.
I was grateful Emmett knew when to shut up.
I sat sipping tepid coffee and staring steadily at the bar top, once more seeing my haunted reflection in the glossy surface. Although I had to wonder, was I being haunted or doing the haunting.
As I heard Rose walk down the stairs it was as though time slowed down. I held my breath and it seemed like Rose took for-fucking-ever to reach the bottom step. Finally, she graced the kitchen with her presence and I decided the only way to do this was to just spit it out.
"Alice told me there was a play on at your school tonight."
Emmett's spoon clattered into his bowl but I never lifted my head. I heard Rose's heels clicking against the floor stop. "Yeah, there is. We're doing 'The Ugly Duckling', y'know 'cause it's nearly spring."
I lifted my head and, out of the periphery of my vision, saw Rose grab a mug off the draining board and pour out some coffee from the pot. I waited until she was sitting next to Emmett before I said anything else. She never lifted her eyes to me once.
When she was seated, I spoke up. Inside I was ten kinds of mortified because I was going to ask my own sister to invite me to see her school play. Luckily, my façade made that impossible to tell.
"So, you and Emmett will be out tonight then," I said nonchalantly, Emmett looked from me to Rose before deciding to just go back to his paper. I thanked him silently.
"Yes, Emmett's going straight to the school from work and I'm going to be running rehearsals until the play starts. Then there'll be some drinks in the library afterwards so we won't be home until about nine or ten." She was looking at me cautiously and I wasn't certain why.
"How come you never told me about it?" I looked back down, bracing myself for the inevitable rejection. There was a long pause. I kept my eyes determinedly trained on examining the split ends I could spy from the strands of hair that fell in front of my face.
"I didn't think you'd be interested." I looked up at Rose in shock, she looked miserable. Her mouth was turned down at the corners and her forehead was heavily creased. Her eyes looked directly into mine and suddenly it wasn't the twenty-three year old college graduate Bella sitting across from the twenty-seven year old gym teacher Rose anymore.
We were both little children again, sitting in our back yard and I'd fallen over and hurt my knee. Blood was trickling down and I was crying bitterly. Rose tried to put her arms round me to comfort me but I pushed her away. I was a big girl, ashamed of my tears and I didn't need Rose to comfort me. But my loud crying drew Renee out and she rushed over to me, lifting me up in her arms. I didn't push her away. I wanted my mom. And the hurt that showed so obviously on ten year old Rosalie's face when I looked down from my mother's arms was what I saw in front of me now.
"I am interested. I'd like to come tonight. If you want me there," I spoke quietly and indifferently. But I hoped Rose saw in my eyes how much I meant it.
"Yeah, sure, you can come. It starts at six." Rose shrugged, matching my uncaring air. But her hands fidgeted about her mug, her eyes flickered around nervously, and she chewed the inside of her cheek.
She returned to drinking her coffee and so did I, even though it was now cold. Suddenly I didn't want to go and see Rose's play just so I could selfishly shout at a man whose mother was ill because it helped me sleep at night. I wanted to go and see Rose's play because I pushed her away all those years ago, and it had hurt her so much she never forgot. And I hadn't fucking realized.
Later, I sat in my bathtub full of scalding hot water and allowed memories to wash over me. Memories of a little blonde girl and little brunette girl playing together. They were like a sideshow in my mind. Gradually the little girls grew bigger and played together less and less. They moved further and further away from each other. But if I had rejected Rose's offer of comfort from an age as young as six, where we ever that close? I had never felt a deep strong bond of sisterhood toward Rose. I loved her, very much. But I didn't always like her and I never confided in her. When I had my first kiss it wasn't her I went to, it wasn't even my mother. I told my teddy bear. When I had sex for the first time, I didn't speak to Rose about it. She probably thinks I'm still a virgin. She hasn't ever met any ex boyfriend. Well, I've only had one. And as that thought popped into my head, all my defences were down and I was suddenly very, very aware I was lying naked in water that was too hot to lie in. I jumped up in the burning water screaming, scrambled out of the tub and slipped. My head whacked down hard on the edge of the bath and everything went black.
Hitting your head on the edge of a ceramic bathtub should hurt like a bitch. When you wake up, you should feel like your head has been split in two and you clutch it, desperately trying to hold it back together while you moan in agony. You shouldn't be able to move for sometime.
I stood up instantly.
I felt no pain, just the effects. I couldn't feel a sickening ache in my head as I stood up, but my vision swam before my eyes nonetheless. My knees buckled and I had to shoot my hands out to catch myself on the edge of the bath, narrowly missing the bloodstain where flesh met ceramic. I shut my eyes, not to block out the pain but to clear my vision. I could feel no pain. I could feel a dull ache at the back of my head that aggravated me, but nothing more. I opened my eyes once more and turned around to grab a towel off the towel rack. My skin was covered in goose pimples from lying on a cold, white tiled floor for hours but I couldn't feel anything. Running a constant temperature of mediocrity, I was in the middle and felt neither hot nor cold. I didn't even feel warm or cool. Instead, I was comfortably numb.
I wrapped the towel around my body before feeling around the back of my head for where I had hit the rim of the tub. I came across a small encrusted wound high up in the centre. I took my hand away and turned on the shower. Pulling off the shower head, I closed my eyes and flipped my head over. I breathed through my mouth as I washed the blood out of my hair.
I shut off the shower, tightened the towel around me and walked out of the bathroom back to my room. I stumbled and had to clutch the wall and door for support, but I made it there all the same.
I vigorously towel dried the ends of my hair and decided to forego anymore tests today, deciding that a blow to the head I could barely feel was test enough.
I dressed simply, jeans and a t shirt. I kept my hair down and ran a brush through it briefly before leaving it to dry in its own time.
The play was due to start in forty five minutes, which meant I'd lain unconscious on the bathroom floor for two hours. It wouldn't take me long to drive to the school, probably about fifteen minutes, so I went downstairs and made a sandwich. It was probably a good idea not to rant at Edward on an empty stomach.
About what, I haven't a fucking clue.
I'd exhausted the whole 'you had sex with a stranger on my bed and didn't apologize' argument. I also couldn't have a go at him for ruining my 'Chanel' shirt as Rose knows I don't own a vintage Chanel shirt and couldn't give a flying fuck about clothes. I sat at the breakfast bar, mulling over my predicament as I slowly ate my sandwich. I waited patiently for inspiration to strike. When the clock showed forty minutes past five and it still hadn't presented itself, I decided to just improvise.
Improvising is good. It worked last time.
I ran up the stairs to grab my jacket and purse, still ignoring the fact my vision would lurch when I moved too quickly and I wasn't precisely sure what angle the floor was at.
I left the house, climbed into my truck and drove to Rose's school. The sun was lighting the sky with vivid orange streaks, the evening calm and peaceful and so was I. I innocently calculated I'd have to sit through an hour long play where children pranced up and down the stage, and then I'd meet up with Rose in the library where Edward would also be. I'd down a glass of wine or two for courage, assuming I could actually feel the effects, and then I'd swagger on up to Edward. Engage him in some angry verbal sparring where he'd get riled up, I'd get pissed and all that pent up anger that was tightly packed into me would deliciously come pouring out. I would then go home and have the deepest, most resting fucking sleep of my life. And I wouldn't dream of a child for a very long time.
I parked outside the school and walked in. The play was going to start in three minutes and I thanked the great big pixie in the sky that there were directions of where to go. I'd never set foot in Rose's school before and didn't have a clue where anything was. I followed the red paper arrows and found my way to the assembly hall, where inside there were rows of chairs laid out. I briefly wondered how I'd find Alice when Alice suddenly found me. A high spirited, merry voice rang out across the room, effectively silencing all the conversations taking place. "Bella! You made it!"
I squinted into the middle difference and saw tiny little Alice waving her hand vigorously above her head, making her presence known to me... and everyone else. However ignoring the snide chuckles, I kept my head up and walked over to her. She hugged me tightly when I reached her and gestured for me to sit down.
"I'm so glad you came. Jasper rang to say he wouldn't be able to make it and I was worried you'd back out too."
"No, of course I came. I said I would." I neglected to mention my original selfish reason or even my new unselfish one. "Why isn't Jasper coming?"
"He had to work late. He'll miss the play but said he 'might' make the gathering after wards." Alice's tone grew tighter as she reached the end of the sentence and the stark lighting made her frown distinctly obvious.
"Oh. Does he work late often?" I tried to keep my voice light and free of suspicion.
"Too often." Her tone just grew darker and she hastily crossed her legs and arms.
"Well... I'm sure he..." I had no idea how to end the sentence, so I just gave up and stared down at my lap biting my lip. It was either that or my tongue.
"Bella, do you think Jasper's having an affair?" Alice didn't sound wondering or curious, like she was asking my opinion on the faithfulness of her husband. Instead, she sounded entertained. I turned to look at her only to find her eyebrow cocked and her mouth turned into an amused smirk. I opened my mouth but no words flew out, so I just shut it and shook my head dumbly.
"Trust me, he isn't having an affair. The guilt would practically emanate from him. He can't hide his emotions at all." She leaned back into the hard plastic chair with a satisfied smile. I turned to face the front, feeling awful that that was the assumption my mind automatically jumped to.
I saw we weren't too far from the stage, where a dusty looking blue velvet curtain obstructing our view of the players behind. In front of me sat a lone woman anxiously checking her watch. She had cropped coppery hair that looked thick with a wave to it. A tall, dark haired man with cautious eyes hurried in and sat next to her. He apologized for being late in a deep voice. I began to listen to his excuses when I felt a large hand clap down on my shoulder. I screeched loudly, clutching my chest and when loud barking laughter met my ears, I knew it was Emmett. I turned and glared at him. "Are you trying to give me a fucking heart attack?" I said darkly. Alice giggled beside me.
"Hi, Emmett, you're just in time. Curtain's about to go up." she trilled.
Emmett at down beside me and I turned back to face the front, pursing my lips and ignoring him.
"Hi, Alice. Sorry about Jasper."
"It's okay. I have plans for him later." her upbeat tone turned calculating.
"And what might they include? Or should I not ask?"
We didn't get to hear these plans of Alice's because the lights went out, clothing the room in darkness, only lit by a solitary spotlight on the stage. A loud chorus of shushing spread throughout the room, followed by utter silence. The curtain lifted and the play began.
I knew I was there for Rose. I knew for some unknown reason my presence there made her happy.
But at the end of the day, it was just a bunch of kids running around on stage shrieking about a funky looking bird.
They were all about six, they had no interest in sticking to a routine, and their attempt at junior ballet looked like dramatic pointing with all four limbs. And they half spoke, half shouted the songs to their own beat. I could see Edward at the piano to the side of the stage begin the play looking despondent and end it looking suicidal. I felt a pang of guilt for what was going to happen to him next when I ambushed him in the library, but seeing as it was the last time, I felt I owed it to myself. He also looked slightly comical toward the end, bashing the keys in anger, hair in disarray, looking like Beethoven.
The play finally ended, much to the delight of the audience. I'm sure it was relief that made them clap so loudly. It's why I did, anyway, and I swore I heard Alice sigh, "Thank God."
The light blasted back on, blinding everyone, and I stumbled after Emmett to the library where he told me we'd wait for Rose to show up.
The library was only a couple of corridors away and happily, there was already an opened bottle of wine inside on the table with glasses beside it. Alice and I immediately poured ourselves a glass. "It wasn't that bad," Emmett muttered behind me. Didn't stop him from pouring a glass out for himself, though, I noticed. Alice and I went to sit in a couple of cushioned seats opposite the door near a bookcase filled with plays. Emmett leaned against a table near the door. There were several other people in here too, quietly drinking whilst they waited. Alice's phone chirped - literally the chirp was her message tone - and she spent the next ten minutes absorbed in it while I flicked through a copy of The Taming of the Shrew.
Rose eventually burst through the door, looking incredibly pissed off, and she dived straight for the glass of wine Emmett was holding out for her, taking a large gulp and swallowing noisily. Looking Emmett directly in the eye she said, "I know. Don't worry, I know." Emmett nodded at her, looking slightly worried. She came over to Alice and me and folded herself neatly into an empty chair.
"I'm never teaching ballet to six year olds again," Rose promised herself, looking moodily into her glass. Emmett walked behind her chair after placing his glass on the low table. He rubbed her shoulders while Rose sunk back into the chair, humming and closing her eyes. I went back to reading, not wanting to observe their intimacy. Alice had nodded briefly in Rose's direction and given her a sympathetic smile before returning her attention to her phone. A loud slamming door, however, brought everyone out of their preoccupations.
It was Edward.
He stamped into the room, spotted us and threw himself into the remaining empty chair in our circle, glaring the whole time. Alice eyed him warily over the top of her phone, and then she darted her eyes quickly away again when he caught her eye. Rose and Emmett decided to move away from the hostility he was emanating, so they went to sit in another set of chairs in a more secluded corner of the library.
"I think you could do with a drink." I heard Alice say. I looked away from Edward's tortured form to see her scurrying away, still looking at her phone. However, that left Edward and I alone and I wondered when to seize my chance. I bit my lip nervously as I glanced at him. He was leaning his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. I looked away from him and put the book back on the shelf. On the row above I spotted a Roald Dahl book, obviously put back in the wrong place. It was Esiotrot. I smiled at the memory of me begging Renee for tortoise after reading that story. I was amazed when she said no. She was the one with a history of impulse desires after all.
"What the hell are you smiling about then?" I heard Edward say bitterly and with resentment. I looked at him, alarmed and wondering who he was talking to. His direct glare at me with a clenched jaw and hands suggested it was me. My first instinct was to tell him what I was smiling at, to defend myself from the paranoid accusation I heard in his tone. However him starting the argument wasn't a concept I'd thought of and I wasn't about to waste the opportunity. So I set my jaw and looked at him icily.
"What are you suggesting?" I baited, remembering how easily he fell into my traps. Alice came back then with a glass of wine and set it in front of Edward. She took in his stare and turned to look at me nervously. I caught her eye and she nodded almost to herself.
"I'm just... gonna go outside and call Jasper. Bad signal," she said hesitantly before turning tail and fleeing from the library.
Edward's eyes hadn't left mine the whole time and when he spoke his tone was no gentler or calmer.
"I don't see any reason why you should be smiling tonight. The play was an absolute fucking car crash. Unless you take delight in other people's failures." His words stung and I narrowed my eyes.
"Only if the person deserves them."
"You think I do? You think your sister does?" he sneered. It was a low blow and I decided if he wasn't going to play fair anymore, neither was I. Not that I really was to begin with.
"No, Rose didn't deserve everything to fall apart the way it did tonight. But you. Well, what can I say? Karma's a bitch." His eyes widened, his jaw slackened, and then he started wringing his hands frantically.
"So you're saying I deserve whatever bad things happen to me?"
"Basically, yeah. Anything bad that happens to you couldn't happen to anyone more deserving." I spoke harshly, cruelly, evilly and without thinking. The words shot out of my mouth like a poisoned arrow and went directly into Edward's heart. Pain registered in his dark eyes, the muscles in his jaw stood out as he clenched his jaw and his hands were frozen into fists.
"I'll remember to pass your words onto my wife and mother," he spat before rising sharply and stalking out the room, slamming the door even louder than he had when he came in.
I dropped my head to hands.
Bella Swan, eat your words you heartless witch.
A/N: I swear to god they will eventually get together. Key word- Eventually. Reviews would be great, even if it's just to shout at me.
