Ok so this chapter was s'posed to be me getting control over my characters and putting them back on the right path after Bella took matters into her own hands while I was writing last night and quit her job. Bella and Sam, however, refused to co-operate and clearly have their own agenda, so you lucky people will get 2 chapters today, cos that's how long it's going to take me to rein them in and get things back to my original plan. Enjoy. :0)
Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Saga. I own twitchy fingers that enjoy writing for no profit.
Chapter 8: Motorcycles and Mortification.
I drove a round town aimlessly for nearly an hour, trying to calm myself down after my outburst. I wasn't sure just what had come over me. I'd never been the sort of person to lose my temper like that, normally anger for me was characterised by stuttering frustration, accompanied by tears, as if my tear ducts were hard wired to my temper, and yet today I had been able to say exactly what was going through my mind without getting flustered and tearful. No. It wasn't that I had 'been able to say' it. I couldn't stop it.
It had boiled out of me, unstoppable, and devastating, like a pyroclastic flow. I couldn't make myself feel sorry for it though. The horrible woman had deserved every word, especially after speaking ill of my dad. Charlie was a good man, one who worked incredibly hard for the protection of his community, and I wasn't going to just stand there and let her say anything different. "Well, Bella. You were planning on making some changes. Looks like one or two are just happening by themselves." The thought was both welcome and disturbing at the same time, and I felt my empty chest throb.
I pulled up at the side of the road, wondering where in the hell I was. I wasn't concerned - Forks is a small town, there's only so lost you can get, but I did still plan on going to the store, and I wanted to beat Charlie home so that I could fill him in on what had happened at Newton's myself, before the town gossips started ringing the phone off the hook. Up ahead I could just make out the cemetery. "I must be on Calawah way" I realised, and I started to make a U turn to head back towards the store. Halfway through making the turn, I spotted something sitting on the lawn of one of the houses. I couldn't make out what it was, but whatever it was, it had a 'free to collector' sign leaning against it. Having spent years digging around flea markets and yard sales with Renee, it was hard wired into my very being not to pass it by without investigating, so I completed my turn, put the truck into park, and stepped out into the rain to see what it was. "A pile of scrap metal." Was my first conclusion, but then I noticed the wheels. It was a motorcycle. No. Two motorcycles. They were in pretty bad shape, maybe they'd never run again. But maybe...
I stood there like a statue, deep in thought and staring at the scra.. the motorcycles. I was planning to make some changes. And motorcycles were certainly different. The hole in my chest gave a painful twinge at the thought of not only making changes, but doing so deliberately. I may have resigned myself to the fact that He and I would never fit together again, but I still loved Him. I probably always would, so the pain was to be expected. Hopefully, with time it would lessen, or I'd at least get used to it. I knew I wasn't ready to make big changes yet, just one day after I started to pull myself out of my pit, but these motorcycles would take weeks to fix up. Maybe by then I'd be ready, and if not I could always sell them on and maybe make a few bucks.
My feet, it seemed, were already making the decision for me. Without me consciously telling them to, they were making their way up the path to the house of the current owner. When they finally stopped in front of the door, I took the hint and knocked on the door. A kid answered. I recognised him from school, a freshman I thought.
"The motorcycles on your lawn, are they really free for whoever wants them?" I asked him, pointing over my shoulder at the pile of sc.. the motorcycles.
"Yeah." He answered, shrugging. "My mom wants rid of them, so if no-one takes them, the garbage truck will collect them tomorrow."
"Then I'll take them." I decided. "Can you help me load them onto my truck?"
A lot of huffing and grunting, pulled muscles and scraped knuckles later, I was driving away, the proud owner of two broken down, rusty motorcycles, with no idea how to get them fixed up, or where to store them. I knew Charlie's opinion on motorcycles; he had responded to far too many RTAs involving them to think they were a good thing, especially on the almost permanently rain slick roads of Forks, but I had no intention of lying to him about them. I had damaged our relationship enough, and lying to him about anything at his point seemed just so wrong that I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was eighteen, an adult, and I would behave as such. If he really, really hated the idea of me riding one, I'd just drive them to the scrap yard myself. No loss. Noticing the time, I realised I'd better get a move on if I wanted to hit the store and get back before him, so I sped up a little and headed my truck in the right direction.
Mrs Newton had clearly been on peak performance today; as I wandered around the store, I couldn't help but notice several of her cronies giving me the stink eye, but I stubbornly refused to acknowledge their hostility, and returned each glare with a pleasant smile, and the odd "Afternoon." Seeing how much my seeming obliviousness annoyed them made me smirk internally, though I did wonder just how she'd related the confrontation this afternoon. She could hardly have told them all the absolute truth of the matter; it would cast her in a much worse light than me, so no doubt she'd either coloured it carefully in her favour, or simply lied outright. I found I really didn't give a shit either way. The people I cared about would hear my side of the matter soon enough, and anyone who chose to believe Mrs Newton's version was simply not worth sharing my oxygen with. "Hmm. Another change I hadn't planned on making - it seems I no longer care about drawing attention." Rubbing my chest absently as the thought of more changes made it ache, I tripped over the wheel of my shopping cart and blushed as I heard someone sniggering at me. "Ok. Lets amend that. I no longer care about drawing attention from those I actively dislike." I went down the last aisle, grabbing myself some coconut shampoo and conditioner to replace what I had at home, and made my way to the checkout.
The cashier was a woman I knew well - her husband had been the Chief of police before he was invalided out and had in fact recommended Charlie as his replacement. I smiled at her as I put all my groceries on the counter in front of her.
"Hi, Mrs Green. How are you?" I asked as I rummaged in my pocket for my money. She glared at me and made no reply. The smile fell from my face. "Oh dear. Clearly one of Mrs Newton's inner circle." I forced my smile back and pretended not to notice her hostility. As the last few items went into brown bags, I looked up to see what I owed, and saw, sitting on the counter in front of me, a large box of condoms. Puzzled, I raised my eyebrow and looked questioning lay at Mrs Green.
"I figured you should probably stock up, dear, if you're going to keep throwing yourself at young men the way Mrs Newton caught you throwing yourself at her Mike in her stock room this afternoon." She said with venom, and tucking the box into one of my bags "The poor boy didn't know how to deal with the situation as he'd already turned you down on several occasions. If you're so anxious to sleep with every single male in town, you'd best start to use protection. For their sakes, if not for yours."
Eyes wide.
Mouth gaping.
Silence.
I stood there in shock for a moment. "...!..." I had nothing. "Mike turned me down several times? Throwing myself at all the guys in town? Oh. My. God. Seriously?" All noise around me had completely ceased as everyone near the checkout paused to see how I would respond. Finally my mouth closed. I felt my shoulders shaking. My breath was coming in great heaving gasps, "Oh fuck, Bella, don't cry in front of all these busybodies. It just what they want. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry"
It took me another few seconds to realise I wasn't crying. I was laughing my ass off. Great snorts of laughter tore themselves out of my throat, I could barely drag in the next breath as my hysterical giggling doubled me over.
"S. s. s. seriously? That's what she went with? Throwing myself at her son in the stock room?" I grabbed at the counter to hold myself up. "Oh, and don't tell me, she walking in and caught me, and had to rescue her poor innocent son from my clutches?" Another burst of laughter ripped through me.
"Like you don't already know." Another lady, I think she was a teller in the bank, spat under her breath from next to the other till, clearly another member of the gossip circle. Mrs Green, however, looked a little less sure of herself.
I turned to face the other lady. "Yeah, ok. So I went from being a total shut in two days ago, and don't pretend you don't know about that, to 'The Great Floozie of Forks' today. When was I supposed to be seducing all these men? When I was being catatonic at home, when I was being a zombie at school, or maybe when I was being robotic at work?" My laughter was totally out of control now, I think I actually peed myself a little, I was laughing so hard. "You lot are all so desperate to believe bad things about me, feel free." I snorted "While you're at it, here's a few freebies. When I was six, I cut a little girl's hair off in class, cos she was hitting people with her braid on purpose. When I was eight, I stole a pack of gum, then took it back half an hour later and confessed cos I felt so guilty. Oh! Yeah! And one time I tipped out all of my dad's bait when we were out fishing cos I was cold and bored and wanted to go home, then I pretended I'd tripped over the bait bucket by accident." At this last one, I heard Mrs Green start to laugh along with me.
"I'm sorry, Bella. I should have known you better. In all the years I've known you and your father, you've never been that sort of girl. I don't know what I was thinking." She apologised, looking very sincere, and I smiled at her through my giggles.
"Doesn't matter, Mrs Green. People make mistakes, I don't hold it against them." I reached out and squeezed her hand. Finally gaining control over my breathing, I turned to the little crowd that had, by now, gathered round the checkout. "What actually happened, for those that care more about the truth than idle gossip and slander, is that Mrs Newton was bad mouthing the police and their efforts towards finding the missing hikers." I made eye contact with as many of the known gossips as I could, one by one. "I got mad, which I probably shouldn't have done, questioned why she didn't have any missing posters up for the hikers, or any flyers on the counter, and when she said it was because it would be bad for business, I shot my mouth off a bit, quit, and walked out. Not a very exciting tale, but of course there was no way you were going to hear any of that from her as it would make her look bad." I shrugged and turned to Mrs Green. "I guess she was relying on the fact that lately I've barely communicated with my own dad, let alone anyone else, and so she thought she could spread whatever lies she chose and I wouldn't say anything different. Well. She was wrong." I turned to pick up my grocery bags, wanting to make a grand sweeping exit, but there were just too many to manage by myself all in one go. "Shit! So much for a dignified storm out. Guess I'd better swallow my pride and ask for some help." Suddenly a pair of strong, russet skinned arms reached over me and picked up several of the bags, leaving me with only one to carry.
"Fantastic job, Bella. Now allow me to assist you in your grand exit." I looked up into Sam's smirking face and gave him a grateful smile.
"Thanks, Sam. Perfect timing." We turned towards the exit and walked together to the door and he bent down to whisper in my ear.
"Are we leaving with, or without a one fingered salute?" I giggled a little and gave it a bit of thought.
"Without I think." I sighed in resignation. "At the moment I have the moral high ground. I probably shouldn't give it up for a rude gesture." I smirked a little "No matter how much they deserve it." He grinned widely at this and for a second I was taken aback. "Beautiful" was all I could think for that second as the grin lifted all the worry from his face and lit it up, making his eyes almost glow. I tripped a little, and he somehow juggled all the grocery bags and managed to grab my elbow before anyone else noticed my slip.
"Careful, Bella. Wouldn't want to ruin that dignified exit." He joked, and I nodded. He carried my bags over to my truck with me, and put them on the passenger side of the seat when I unlocked the door.
"Thanks again, Sam. I really appreciate the help."
"Of course." He shrugged "You handled all of that so well, I couldn't do anything else but help you out. You're doing good, Bella. Charlie will be so proud of you when he hears about this. And you know he will hear about it. That was a good half of the Forks gossip brigade you just set in their places. Someone's bound to fill him in, and probably pretty quickly too." He was right. I quickly walked around, unlocked the driver's door and scrambled into my truck.
"Good point. I'd better shift it if I want to get to him before the gossips" I said, throwing the single grocery bag I held over with the others. To my absolute horror, something fell out of the bag and fell, through the still open passenger door, to the ground at Sam's feet. Something box shaped. Something brightly coloured. Something with "Trojan" printed in big bold letters across the top of it. My face flamed red instantly, and I banged my head against the steering wheel and hid my face in my arms.
"Oh for fuck's sake. In front of the hot bodied guy? Kill me now. Seriously. Just open up the ground, and swallow me and my truck. Please, God, you'd be doing me a huge favour." Sam's laughter from next to my truck grew louder and louder.
"Did you know you're saying that out loud?" He chuckled, making my flush an even deeper red.
"Shit." I banged my head once more against the steering wheel. I turned my head to him still resting it on the wheel. "Well that was embarrassing." I stated obviously. "Any chance you could just pretend that I just walked with dignity from the store, climbed into my truck, thanked you politely and drove off?" I almost begged.
"Wellllllll" he drew the word out as he pretended to think it over. I banged my head again, once, twice, thr... On the third time, a large, hot hand placed itself in my way, protecting my head. I looked up. Sam had reach across from the passenger side and shoved his had between my head and the wheel.
"Careful, you don't want a huge bruise there" he murmured, his face just a couple of inches from my own. "Ok. I'll give you a pass on this one. It never happened." I smiled gratefully at him and his face, so close to mine, grinned back. His grin turned a little evil. "But now you owe me." And with a wink, he pulled back and closed the passenger door. He gave me a half wave, and strode off back into the store, and I drove off quickly, still trying to gain control over my blushes as I headed home to begin damage control with Charlie.
"I was right though." I thought as I drove. "When he smiles like that, and even more so when he laughs, he really is beautiful."
