Awkward.
She didn't particularly like the word, let alone what it meant, because she often found that the ever-feared label 'awkward' wasn't aptly placed. Sometimes it seemed like people just stereotyped with it – there were the confused, quiet, shy types who were all blanketed under one title of Socially Awkward Geeks which was not only unfair but untrue too. Sometimes people really are just quiet. Not awkward. Not uncomfortable. Not weird. Just confident and quiet simultaneously. Was she seriously the only one who got that?
And then, there were the people like her, who tended to revel in making other helpless souls twitch in their discomfort. That wasn't necessarily awkward… more, purposely difficult or blunt.
Nora couldn't really deny it, either; she did enjoy that feeling of making other's uncomfortable. She knew it was a little cruel but, honestly? When someone is talking at you rather than to you, or is only interested as long as the conversation resorts to gossiping, or gives off a crappy vibe, or even just delves too deeply into Nora's purposely locked up personal life… her go-to response was sarcasm.
Then, she'd unload so much sarcasm that they drowned in it, leaving behind two people: her, with an amused, smarmy grin on her face, and her victim, the one avoiding eye contact and twisting their hands incessantly, attempting to fill a long, painfully loud silence.
But, it seemed karma had finally settled upon her.
As of five minutes ago, Nora had been standing by Edward's locker, engulfed in her first embrace of sheer social discomfort. She could feel the awkwardness clinging to her bones, rolling off her back and slick to the sweat of her palms. How did people deal with this feeling? It felt like it came from nowhere, overwhelming and mentally incapacitating her in one fell swoop.
Well, not nowhere – she knew exactly where it was coming from.
From the dreaded thought of seeing Edward again after she'd previously bawled all over him and then ditched the poor sod. She had pulled off a smooth cry and run, and now she had to suck up any remaining dignity or confidence in the awkward husk of a person she seemed to be becoming, and go act natural.
Natural a la Nora, anyway.
Speak of the devil.
"Good afternoon, Nora."
She yelped, jumped a foot in the air – something that should be hard to do considering how heavy her combat boots were – and turned to see the face of all her current problems. He was dressed more casually than she'd ever seen him in a light blue button down shirt, white undershirt and a pair of jeans. Jeans. Momentarily, she was thrown off her not-brilliant game, but soon she returned to her stellar ability to act.
"Edward," she grinned, hoping it wasn't a grimace, "what a surprise to see you here."
"In school? Right next to my locker? I can see how that might be shocking."
Her friend, leaning casually against the window, sheltered from the pouring rain outside, didn't express anything beyond a twitch of the lips, as if he wanted to laugh but was too polite to do so in the face of her embarrassment.
Well, screw him.
"You weren't in school yesterday," he pointed out quietly, his head tilted to the side like a curious puppy.
No. She hadn't been at school. Because school meant people, people included Edward, and Edward was a glaring reminder that Nora wasn't as 'fine' as she'd been spewing out since springtime.
"Way to be a stalker, Eddie," she retorted, heaving the strap of her bag further up her shoulder. She didn't need to – it just gave her hands something to fiddle with. "It's healthy to rebel against the system. Stops you from being too square."
Edward didn't take the bait. He didn't joke, laugh or even roll his eyes in response.
Instead, he just hummed, rocking back on his heels and drumming an obscure rhythm against the metallic door of his unopened locker.
"It's okay, you know," he implored, catching her shifting eyes.
Nora wanted to feign confusion. She wanted to ask, what's okay? Me? Yeah, I am.
She wanted to never have to lie about how super-fucking-okay she really was.
She wanted a lot of things.
They stood there, cloaked in absolute silence, and Nora floundered. She had no idea where to look or what to say. These moments with Edward, seemed to be becoming a regular occurrence; intense, personal conversations.
Intimacy.
They were developing a shared intimacy. She despised it. She felt naked, like she was baring her throat to a predator.
Beside her, Edward seemed to stiffen at something but otherwise remained mute.
Eventually, Nora caved first. "Ugh," she groaned, "I'm – I'm sorry, alright? I just – I don't," she exhaled quickly, closing her eyes. When she reopened them, she met Edward's intense stare. She wondered how he could be so open like that, always expecting someone's mind to be spilled out before him, all the nitty gritty details of her emotional turmoil-thought process. "I'm not good at all this vulnerable bullshit, okay?"
"You mean expressing yourself?"
She opened her eyes to glare at his innocent face. "Yes," she gritted out.
He seemed to be enjoying this far more than he should be, she thought.
So, instead of continuing the spew of awful apologies, Nora stuck her hand out silently. In it, was the entire first season of Game of Thrones.
"I thought this might make up for… you know. Ignoring you. Shunning you. Dismissing you."
The boy stared at it intently, and for a moment she didn't think he was going to take it from her. She winced, laughed slightly awkwardly and threaded her fingers through her hair. He didn't want it. She didn't blame him, her version of 'sorry for crying and then running away' wasn't even slightly normal, healthy or conventional.
"Really it's beneficial – you needed to start watching decent TV," she babbled.
Her hand pulled back –
And he took it, his icy cold fingers brushing hers and sending a chill down her entire forearm like a wintry river. She forgot sometimes, how cold Edward was. How different.
When she glanced up at him, sneaking a mental snapshot of Edward, an unmasked, surprised expression on his face, she saw him staring at their joined hands with a frown. It wasn't angry or sad or… anything she could name. It looked like he had suffered an unwilling epiphany.
Either way, she jerked her hand back and Edward soon became unreadable.
"So," she stuck her hands back in her pockets, rocking back on her heels, "we good?"
"Yes," he murmured, seeming thoughtful. Not that he wasn't always thoughtful. "Are you going to watch these with me?" He asked, suddenly, peering down at her.
She froze like Bambi. Watching television… with him… outside of school. That would be proof of how cemented their friendship had become, wouldn't it? Did she want that?
Her original plan entering this forgotten town and tiny little school had been to trudge through it with a heavy dose of cynicism and maybe get good grades. Friendship hadn't really been on the agenda – more of a footnote than anything else.
But, as she looked at him, she knew she didn't want Edward to be a footnote. She wanted him to be a main fucking character. So she smiled, a small, almost nothing sort of smile, and nodded. "Sure," she said, "let me know a day."
He chuckled lowly. "Well, coincidentally," he smirked, "Alice has forced the rest of my family to go shopping with her tonight."
Nora arched an eyebrow. "And you, coincidentally, aren't going with them?"
He nodded. "So, would you care to watch these with me after school?"
Yes. No. Sort of?
"Alright," she agreed. "On two conditions."
"Yes?"
She pointed one finger at him. "First, don't ask questions throughout – I hate it when people do that."
Edward nodded with utter solemnity which, honestly, she was kind of grateful for. She really did hate it when people talked through TV shows or movies. Just watch it and everything would be explained eventually!
"And," she continued, "You better give me them back when we're done, because they're actually Jon's and I may or may not have stolen them from his stash."
He blurted out one of his unexpected but nicer laughs, the ones he didn't mean to let slip, and Nora smiled. Her voice softened, "Thanks, Edward. I… I really am sorry for dismissing you like that. It wasn't fair and I guess I'm just starting to realise how selfish I can be sometimes," she laughed, but it was slightly bitter.
She felt uncomfortable with her words but was consoled by the fact that the corridor was empty. No way in Hell would she have said so much otherwise.
"My mother died long ago," he replied after a long pause of stillness, and she started at how sudden the words were. Unexpected, much? They seemed to come from nowhere but, one thing she'd learned about Edward was that he said things for a reason. Not in a calculating sense, more so as if he didn't like to waste words.
He continued, eyes far away, "and I barely remember her… but sometimes I feel the phantom sensation of fingers smoothing back my hair, and I think I'm a child again and I'll open my eyes and be warm, with her before me."
She moved closer to him, unconsciously. Wanted, randomly, to touch her warm hand to his cold one.
"But I never do. I open my eyes to this new existence. I am forever grateful to Carlisle yet… I hate myself for how bitter I am. How nostalgic. I understand that grief… grips you at the oddest, worst moments. It's not pleasant, but it is entirely understandable."
Self-loathing grief wasn't exactly uncommon in her day-to-day but sometimes she forgot that Edward experienced it, too. God, how awful a friend was she?
Nora swallowed a sudden lump in her throat. "I feel the same. With Jon…" she pursed her lips but felt his stare. She didn't blame him, she wasn't exactly a spill your guts out type of girl. Apparently the awkwardness had screwed up her usually tip top, locked up brain. "Well, sometimes I hate how little I help him, you know? He has to put up with so much of my crap and I just take it for granted."
Edward was still looking at her, pensive as always. "I don't think you see yourself very clearly, Nora," he murmured.
She raised her eyebrows, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear. "What d'you mean?"
He didn't look as if he wanted to answer her question which only made her more curious. But eventually, he settled on, "You surprise me. Perhaps, if you looked at yourself properly, you'd be surprised, too."
"I surprise you?" She repeated, flatly, reasonably, very, shocked.
He hummed and smiled at her, truly. "I think… it's the little things that are always so unexpected. Just your reactions to the world around you, I suppose, is an ongoing surprise. But you're certainly not selfish in the way you seem to think. You're human."
She didn't reply, couldn't. What do you say to that? Edward… she was glad he was her friend.
That's all she could think.
But, uncomfortable and vulnerable and feeling slightly naked under his open eyes, she shrugged it off, "You're not too bad yourself underneath all that hair gel. Now - Game of Thrones marathon?"
He seemed to understand her abrupt change of subject. "Game of Thrones marathon," he agreed, golden eyes twinkling.
