I'm on a freaking roll. I hope everyone likes this chapter. And I'm going to be honest, I hope this one surprises you. I tried to throw a couple twists and turns in there. I love all of your reviews btw :)
Emmett POV
An hour later, a car horn honked outside of the house. My ride was finally here. I grabbed my suitcase in one hand and my house key in the other, making my way towards the front door. I stopped only when I heard a moan.
I backtracked, finding myself at my mother's bedroom, the door wide open. She was sprawled on her bed, lying on her stomach. For once, she looked peaceful, happy, delicate, even.
I couldn't help but smile as I set down my suitcase and tiptoed into her room, gently kissing the top of her head. She probably wouldn't notice my absence and even if she did, I highly doubted she would care enough to do anything about it. Even with all of her faults, I still did love her and I knew, somewhere deep down, she loved me too.
I began to walk out of the room when I spotted an unfamiliar picture on her nightstand. My brow furrowed as I walked around her bed to the nightstand, picking the picture up with both of my hands, studying it.
"Oh God, Mom," I whispered to no one in particular as I sat down on her bed. My eyes still hadn't moved an inch from the picture; it was a pretty old picture by the looks of it. It was in black and white, the edges were torn and certain parts were worn and soft. But it wasn't the surprisingly good condition the picture was in that made me shutter inside. It was the two people standing in the picture, the couple staring at the camera, happily, smiling.
One of the two people was my mother, small and fragile looking, even then. Her hair was dark and curly, like mine, thrown hastily in a bun. Her eyes were a dark brown, the color of a deep, rich chocolate candy. Her arms were wrapped around a tall, lean man. He was one of the most handsome men I had ever seen; it was easy to see how my mother had fallen in love with him so fast and so hard.
My father didn't look anything like me; it disturbed me how closely he resembled someone else that I knew. It made me clench my fists and grit my teeth together.
Honk. Honk.
My ride was growing impatient. I thought about taking the picture along with me, but knew that my mother would notice its disappearance and probably have a drunken fit over it. So, with a sigh, I placed the picture back where I found it on the nightstand and walked through the house once again, finding it lonely and empty for the first time in my life.
I opened the front door and took a step outside, swinging my head around to take one last look at the house of my childhood, the house where I took my first steps, said my first words, and received my first football. Only fond memories came to mind; all of the terrible, unbearable ones seemed to disappear.
With a smile, I took a last, final step outside of my house and closed the door behind me. It seemed so final, so absolute. As I walked away from the house and towards the yellow Porsche parked beside the cement, I refused to look back.
I poked my head inside of the open window on the passenger's side, making sure to smile. "Hi, Alice."
She didn't respond, not that I expected her to, but merely popped open the trunk with a flick of her wrist. Her eyes followed me through the rearview mirror as I walked to the back of the car and situated my single suitcase in the trunk next to the organized piles of shopping bags. I could feel her glare still as I opened the car door, slid into the passenger seat, and closed it.
Alice immediately locked the car doors, signaled by a click. Then, without looking at me or the street, she sped off in the direction of the airport.
There was an awkward five minute silence between us before she finally spoke. Her eyes were concentrating on the road. "It's a two hour drive to the airport, Em. Start explaining."
I sighed, putting my head in my hand. "It's a long story, Al…"
"Like I said, it's a two hour drive." Alice wasn't budging; she was terribly stubborn, that one. She glanced over in my direction, quickly. "At least start, Emmett."
"Okay, okay." I closed my eyes, relaxing my head against the headrest on the top of the chair before beginning. "The story starts in 1987."
Alice's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, her lips pursed, as if she wanted to say something. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but instead, closed it and kept her eyes focused on the road.
"My mother, Emma, was a freshman at Los Angeles High School. She met a charming, young junior by the name of James. She fell head over heels in love with him from the moment she saw him; the feeling was mutual…at least, for awhile. The two dated for James' junior and senior years in high school. When he graduated, he promised to keep in touch, but by the beginning of summer, Emma knew their relationship was over." I swallowed, closing my eyes again. I had never told anyone this story before and had never planned to. Hearing the story from my mother once was enough for me.
I gripped the armrest as I continued. "In the middle of the summer, she realized she was…pregnant. She tried to contact James, but for some reason, she couldn't get a hold of him. Through his parents, she had learned he had moved back to his hometown of Forks so she followed him there in hopes of raising her child, me, with him. When she came to Forks, she learned something else."
I flinched as I came to the most difficult part of the story. It was the most difficult part for me to say; it was definitely the most difficult part for me to hear as a child. I didn't want to say it, to acknowledge it, but it was the single most important part of the story, no matter how difficult it was. And I knew it. "She learned that James had fallen in love with another woman, Alise, and that the two were married and…expecting."
I took a moment to breathe and take a peek at Alice, whose expression was unreadable from where I was sitting. For a moment, I started to wonder if she had even heard what I had said when she turned to look at me, compassion shining through her eyes. "Oh, Emmett."
I smiled, nervously, looking down at my shoes. "My mom was devastated. She started to drink and never stopped. I was born a few months later and my half brother, Jasper, a few months after that."
There was only a moment of silence before Alice spoke again, her voice soft and gentle. "Why have I never heard this story before?"
I sighed, shrugging. "It's not a story I like to tell."
Alice placed her tiny hand on top of mine, squeezing it gently. She didn't say anything nor did I; we didn't need to.
It was a few minutes later when she finally asked me the question that I had been awaiting anxiously since I had stepped into the car. Her eyes were fixated on mine, an understanding smile pressed onto her lips. "Why are you taking things out on Jasper?"
Even though I had been expecting this question, it didn't make it any easier to answer. I made sure to look Alice dead in the eye when I answered finally after gulping, uneasily. "Jealousy."
I looked straight ahead as I continued, "He had everything I wanted; a father who cared, a mother who didn't try to drink herself to death every night. He has a family, Al, and he doesn't even appreciate it."
Alice was silent for a moment, watching the road, again. "I'm going to Paris with you."
I raised my eyebrows, impressed. "I didn't tell you where I was going. How did you know?"
She shrugged with a smile, evading the question. "It doesn't matter how I know, just that I do know. So, tell me, why are you going to Paris on the second day of school?"
I exhaled; I hadn't told anyone about my plans yet. It felt as if my plans were being solidified when I spoke of them. "I'm not going back to school. I'm going to Paris to find my son."
I dropped two huge bombs on Alice, but she didn't even flinch. She merely looked at me, a mischievous look in her eyes. "Goody. I can't wait to go."
"Alice," I said, seriously, giving her a dubious look. "I'm going to Paris by myself."
She shook her head, firmly, from side to side. "No, you're not. I'm coming with you."
"Alice, like you pointed out, it's only the second day of our senior year." A good point, if I did say so myself.
Alice rolled her eyes as she made an expert left turn on a yellow light. "My GPA can definitely take a hit. No worries."
When I opened my mouth to protest, she held her hand up in my face, stopping me from speaking. "I'm your best friend and I'm going, damn it. Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."
I smiled at Alice's stubbornness. It was a quality that I had always admired in her along with her feistiness. It reminded me why she had become one of my best friends and my girlfriend. "Okay, so we're going to Paris."
Alice grinned at me as she swerved into the Seattle airport parking lot. "Now, that's the spirit."
As the two of us walked together into the airport, past luggage check, and security, I went over the plan that I had in mind although I knew, in reality, it wasn't well thought out or foolproof in the least. In my mind, I was planning on wingin' it but with Alice here, I pretended to have some idea of what I wanted to do while in Paris although, in actuality, I had none. I knew I wanted to find my son, but at this point, that was all I knew.
"Emmett, you're going to need another plan," Alice nagged me as we stepped off of the escalator. She pointed in the direction of the terminal, leading the way. Considering she had spent most of her summer at the airport, taking flights constantly from Europe to Forks, it was safe to say she knew her way around the airport, backwards and forwards. I just followed along.
I was staring at a hot dog stand across the way when I ran into Alice, who had stopped abruptly in her tracks. While scooting backwards, I looked up to see what had caused her to stop so suddenly. I tried to suppress the gasp that I felt escaping from my lips.
Rosalie was standing in front of the terminal, a duffle bag heaved on one shoulder, a purse on the other. She looked as beautiful as ever even with ripped jeans and a plain t-shirt on. Her hair was pulled back into a disheveled ponytail, revealing her puffy, red eyes.
"What, what are you—?" I started to say as I glided towards her, magnetically.
"I knew you would be here, Emmett." She smiled as she slid her hand into mine. "I knew you would take the next flight to Paris when I told you about Henry. I knew you would and…I want to come with you."
She stared into my eyes, waiting patiently for a response. I could get lost in those beautiful blue eyes. I really could. "Only if Alice is okay with that."
Alice nodded, scooting away from the two of us. She smiled in an awkward, but kind way. "Good luck."
"Are you ready?" I asked Rosalie, once we were alone. I could feel her hand quivering in mine.
Rosalie nodded, slowly, moving her eyes from the ground up. "I am."
I smiled and held her hand to my lips. "Let's go."
I didn't feel nervous or scared or hesitant as I walked, hand in hand, with Rosalie towards the airplane. I didn't look back. I didn't feel the need to.
