Bella Cullen
Chapter 9 – Tennis Practice
I had really begun to wonder what Edward had done when Andrew didn't show up for a few days. I didn't mind that he wasn't there; I was just wondering what kid of trouble Edward might have caused us.
Then I began to dip into the minds of some of his tennis buddies (they wouldn't talk to me upfront for some reason). Most of them had thoughts wondering where he was, too. They weren't worried, though, because supposedly he called his parents saying that he was okay, but he had no idea where he was, so he couldn't get them to pick hum up.
I put two and two together. Edward + Volvo + Mad far away. Andrew wouldn't be coming back for a while. I wouldn't have been surprised if Edward had crossed three state borders. I would actually be impressed if he hadn't.
So of course I laughed when I found out that Andrew eventually discovered that he was in Montana. The next time I saw Edward, I couldn't help but embrace him. I wanted to kiss him, but we were in a very populated part of the school. I knew I should have been disappointed in his overreaction, but I found it too funny for me to be mad, and as soon as he realized what was so funny, I found him laughing with me.
Andrew was, however at school three days after my realization. Thankfully that gave Alice enough time to make sure that neither her, myself, nor Rosalie would be stuck with him as a partner for Creative Movement.
Andrew was not making our lives easier. He wasn't exactly overreacting, though. I think I would have reacted the same way if I had been dropped off in Montana and couldn't run home in a matter of hours. But it wasn't that smart of him to act like that after everything Emmett and Edward had done to him.
It might have been a mistake for Edward to have told Andrew my "story." Every time Andrew passed him, he would say something taunting. Something about my happiness, or my eyes, or whether or not he was going to leave again.
I didn't know who it bothered more; me, Edward, or Jasper. It bugged me because it reminded me of Jacob. I knew that's what Edward had meant by my other "families" that I had bonded with. It bugged Edward because it made him feel guilty, which made me more upset because I hated when he wallowed. It bothered Jasper because he felt all of us suffering…and he already had burning hatred for Andrew to begin with.
It was getting ridiculous. I had even told him to leave Edward alone. I had explained that I hadn't turned him down simply because "Edward wouldn't want me to go with him." I drew out the conclusion that I knew he would ask why…which was the truth, anything I had come up with to say ended in him puling me aside. And that I really didn't want to honestly answer the question.
I guess this was his new way of "getting back." He knew that I wanted him to leave Edward alone, so it was his way of annoying us both. He was pushing his luck.
"I really just want to stick his head through a cinderblock," Emmett commented. I was rather partial to that idea.
Homecoming had come and gone. Rosalie was, of course, ecstatic that she and Emmett could come out of the shadows. And despite the fact I was the one who had altered his plans as to how he and Rosalie would "spark their relationship," he had still been taking my side.
"I thought we agreed that it was my turn to beat the shit out of this guy," Alice complained. She really liked the idea of breaking the "itty-bitty frail little dancer" stereotype by slamming something into Andrew.
Jasper remained calm. He was selfish, however, and didn't share his relaxation. I understood the reason for his silence, however. Jasper starting a fight with Andrew would most likely lead to blood, and with Jasper that would not end well.
Edward, of course, had had his fun. That was the only light of this situation: The humor of Andrew being randomly placed in Montana.
"Look, who's the center of this? When do I get to kill the douche bucket?" I wondered. Edward laughed.
That's how it started. All of a sudden we were planning. The contest. It wasn't fair to arm wrestle. Emmett was disqualified since he had already given Andrew a beating, and I would beat everyone else. We finally decided on some sort of race. It was fair, considering Edward was disqualified, as well. The details were sketchy, but we knew we were going to race.
Andrew was growing onto us, though. Somehow he knew we were planning something. His thoughts became very imaginative of what we would do to him. His ideas ranged from Edward smashing his head through a window to Emmett throwing him across the football field. He still didn't know what he could expect from me or Rosalie or Alice for that matter. There was no way that we were going to let Jasper anywhere near him.
"You know, if we do end up accidentally killing him, we should play tennis with his head or something," Alice suggested playfully. "His dearest wish. To be involved in a tennis game, even in death," she continued.
"I've never been one for tennis, but that might be fun." That was Rosalie's first sign of interest in this violence.
We joked like that the rest of lunch, Andrew eyeing us suspiciously.
I should have known who was going to win
We had finally decided on racing around the state borders, though we attempted to avoid interstates as much as possible. Even when we couldn't, it's not like any human would have fast enough reflexes to catch us in the act.
The fact that she even started the race should have tipped me off.
Of course if Alice hadn't seen herself winning, what would have been the purpose of even participating, right? I was amazed I hadn't seen it. I had chosen to take part in the race. Why couldn't I see the result of my decision?
Alice took a long, careful few weeks to decide her course of action. She didn't want to draw attention to us like Edward and Emmett had, but she definitely wanted her voice to be heard. She also made Edward keep whatever her heard a secret, and of course, as usual, I stayed out of both of their heads.
So by the time Alice had planned her attack, it was nearly the end of November. Jasper was getting involved with the new basketball season, and Emmett had pretty much been drafted into wrestling after the coaches had seen some of his football tackles. Jasper had "asked" Alice out, and the plan for Edward and was that he would ask me to the winter tolo. I would agree, but "fall sick" so that we wouldn't have to go. Despite my new grace and Creative Movement, I still didn't like school dances. Edward didn't like that plan, though. He didn't like anything that implied me "skipping out" or getting "cold feet" as "falling sick" would do.
She finally came up with a plan. It was very well thought through. It didn't make us look like we were unnaturally strong. Alice could have her fun and – the number one reason why I liked it – it included me Rosalie and Jasper.
Jasper's part was small, but he was proud to take part in the plan at all. He examined the outer brick wall. The camera, mounted on the roof might have been a problem, but Jasper quickly and stealthily adjusted it the slightest bit. There was now a blind spot.
Tennis still had a few championship games left.
We waited until after tennis practice. Andrew looked at us carefully when he saw us huddled in the blind spot. His must not have seen anything wrong, since he proceeded to walk into the locker room.
"Five, four, three, two, one," and he was there. Alice had been quick enough. The only thing the camera would have caught was Andrew suddenly disappearing. Alice wouldn't be seen.
"How the hell?" he blurted out.
"Don't ask," Alice strongly suggested.
"I'm asking," he replied stubbornly. "How did you run that fast?"
"Emmett," Rosalie lied. "He does more than just play, he coaches. Well that's what he wants to do, so he's practiced on us."
"I believe that Edward told you a little fact a bout our family. You mess with one of us, all of us fight back. And you've messed with two," I reminded him.
Alice pulled Andrew's tennis racket out of his sport's bag.
"You know, I've never really learned the rules of tennis," she fibbed.
"It's not that complicated. You hit a ball back and fourth." That was the cue. Alice had seen this part of the conversation. Rosalie and I each grabbed one of his arms.
"I used to play badminton. Is the swinging style the same?" she wondered.
I even knew it wasn't, and I wasn't even sport smart, even living with Emmett. I had been forced to play badminton at Forks in P.E. Where in tennis, most strokes were from the waist level, pretty much all of the strokes in badminton were overhead.
"Like this?" And with that, the racket ended up at his neck, his head stuck through the wiring. "Next time, where the racket is now, there'll be a brick wall," she warned.
"And I have done things that require the strength it takes to throw a person through a brick wall," Rosalie admitted, truthfully, remembering her human fiancée and his little buddies.
