"We travel together," said George coldly.
Word Prompt: Wish list
All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.
"We travel together," said George coldly.
"Oh, so it's that way."
George was tense, and motionless. "Yeah, it's that way."
-John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men
They're less confused this time when she stands by the door to tell them good-bye. And she counts six who tell her to have a good day, too.
But today she can't help but watch Rosalie Hale, who dyed her hair jet black last night, as she packs her bag roughly and makes her way to the door.
Bella's about to say something to her when she hears it, soft and deafening in the now quiet classroom.
"Rosalie."
The girl stops, a deer in headlights facing Bella, struck dumb by the voice of the boy who stands behind her.
Rosalie Hale turns toward Emmett Cullen, slowly, and Bella can count time with the way his feet shift back and forth.
She tries to stifle her smile by clearing her throat and rushes,
"I have to go talk to Mrs. Platt about something."
They say nothing, and for the first time in a long time, she doesn't mind being ignored.
Her footsteps echo in the hallway, and she tries to waste time productively by picking up discarded papers that students left behind in their mad rush to end the day.
"If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times."
Billy Black stands in front of her, holding a wastepaper basket, his smile genuine but tentative.
She grins.
"Hi, Billy."
"Hi, girl."
He doesn't ask her how she is, and when she recalls their last conversation, she realizes she can't blame him.
"How are you?"
He looks a little startled, but recovers quickly.
"I'm doing okay, Bella. How about you?"
His eyes are wary as she walks toward him, placing her small collection of papers in the trash can before taking it from his grasp.
When Bella sets the bin on the floor, he is about to protest, but stops when she takes his hand in hers.
Billy's hands are rough and familiar, calloused from years of hard work and baiting fish hooks with her father.
She looks him in the eye and smiles so he knows it's real.
"I'm okay."
"Okay" is not "fine."
Okay is new. Better.
He nods, slow and understanding.
Bella squeezes his hand once and turns on her heel when Emmett Cullen strides past her, nearly running toward the parking lot.
She starts to walk after him when she hears footsteps, softer, coming out of her classroom.
Rosalie Hale ambles toward them, her newly black hair falling around her face as she reads the letter held tightly in her hands.
Bella beams.
"Bye, Rosalie."
The girl nods but continues her aimless course toward the back exit, her lips moving, her smile brightening, with every word she reads.
…
Bella lets her car idle and waits for the heater kick in, hitting the radio until she hears the fuzzy strains of Forks' only music station. The rain is heavier today than it's been in awhile, and she reminds herself (again) to get someone to clean the gutters.
She's using her coat sleeve to wipe off her windshield when she sees him, standing under the building overhang, hands in his pockets, head bent low.
Her truck lurches as she puts it in drive, then rumbles to a stop as she pulls in front of him and rolls down her passenger side window.
"Emmett!"
He's motionless and she's about to get out of the car when she sees the telltale white cords snaking out of his jacket and into his ears.
She honks, and he startles to life, nearly smiling when he sees her.
"What are you still doing here?"
He's speaking but she can't hear him over the rain and her radio.
"Hold on!"
Emmett looks confused as she reverses and not a little frightened as she pulls forward and turns onto the walkway so the passenger side of her truck sits under the overhang.
She scoots over, wiping down the seat with her pants and her sleeve, and nearly tumbling out the door and onto the pavement in front of him.
"Sorry about that."
When Emmett Cullen towers over her, the width of his body double her own, it's hard to imagine that he's Edward's brother.
But when his eyes are alight and his face is scrunched up from trying not to laugh at her, it's hard to imagine that he's anyone else.
"You waiting for someone?"
He nods.
"Your brother?"
He nods again, and squeezes the straps of his backpack a little tighter.
"Mind if I wait with you?"
He steps slowly to the side and she takes it as an invitation to lean next to him against the wall.
The sound of the rain mixes with the music coming from her car, and when it changes to a song from slumber parties and middle school dances, she starts to hum along.
She's expecting him this time, so she shouldn't feel that flutter in her stomach, that sting in her skin when she sees Edward Cullen.
But she does.
He has one umbrella above him, fighting against the wind, and holds another underneath his arm. His black pants are soaked to the knee and his tennis shoes were a lost cause a while ago.
He must be cold.
His eyes are hard, his mouth set in a thin line, and she already misses the softness and the smile he allowed her the night before.
"Sorry, Em. Car wouldn't start."
"Mine does that all the time."
Her intentions are good, but her words are too eager, and he grimaces.
"Thanks for staying. You didn't have to do that."
"It's not a big deal."
She smiles and hopes it will be catching, but he's already turned toward Emmett and fussing with the snap on his umbrella.
"I can give you a ride."
"We're fine."
His fingers are white with cold and refusing to cooperate.
"Edward—"
"I said we're fine!"
He finally gets the umbrella open, but as the handle clicks into place, a gust of wind blows it inside-out and out of Edward's hand.
"Fuck!"
He's turning toward the fallen object, but Emmett is already there, picking it up and bending the metal ribs back into place.
"Edward—"
Her voice is soft and his sleeve is cold beneath her hand. When he looks at her, his eyes are sad and young.
"Let me give you a ride home."
He sighs.
"Please."
She feels the muscles in his forearm flex against her fingers, and it reminds her that she can probably let go.
She turns toward her truck.
"This is me."
"Yeah. I figured."
She rolls her eyes but smiles to see his smirk return to its rightful place.
She climbs in through the passenger side and he follows, but it's not until Emmett steps in behind him that she realizes just how little she thought this through.
Emmett takes up nearly half of the bench seat, forcing the side of Edward's body to rest firmly against her own.
Rain and dryer sheets…and something else.
"Seatbelts!" she yelps, and Edward chuckles as he pulls off his hood.
She shrugs.
"My dad was a cop."
Emmett's attempts to grab the seatbelt behind him are nearly comical, and she starts to giggle until Edward lifts himself off the seat and his thigh brushes against her arm.
"Sorry," he grunts, finally finding the middle seatbelt and sitting back down to fasten it.
She nods her head and turns the key and decides to focus on the way her windshield wipers move across the glass. But the first time she has to turn the wheel, their arms are too close together, so he lifts his up and lays it to rest behind her.
The fabric of his sleeve tickles her neck and her knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
She tells herself it's because of the cold.
"Where am I taking you?"
She sees his hesitation in the mirror.
"Just go up 101 to Calawah and you can let us out there."
Bella nods and steps on the accelerator.
Peppermint. Rain and dryer sheets and peppermint.
While the road bumps and dips beneath them, Emmett stares out the window and Edward plays with the radio knobs, tapping out drum beats near Bella's shoulder when he settles on a song.
"There's only one music station?"
She snorts.
"Welcome to Forks."
He laughs too and his breath on her ear disarms her. Makes her reckless.
"You're from Chicago, right?"
This time, the hesitation is in his voice.
"Yeah."
"That city has always been on my wish list."
"It's pretty amazing." The glance he steals at Emmett is quick, but she notices.
Her headlights come up on a turn-off and a street sign and she feels Edward's leg bounce anxiously next to hers.
"This is it."
She turns on her signal and begins to turn when he says,
"You can just stop here."
"I can take you to your place."
"No, it's fine. This is fine."
"Edward, it's still raining."
"We can walk. It's not that far."
"This is silly. I can—"
"Just let us out! Please!"
His voice is sharp. Vehement. It makes her slam on the brakes and she gasps as her seatbelt pulls her back against his arm.
"I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
She feels comforting circles between her shoulder blades, but she tenses and he pulls back, clasping his hands in his lap.
"Thanks for the ride, Bella. Sorry again."
His eyes are earnest and she forgives him, then turns to the boy who's watching them curiously.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Emmett."
"See you tomorrow."
Bella likes that she's gotten used to the sound of Emmett's voice, and as he opens the door to step out into the rain, Edward moves awkwardly across the seat to follow him.
The place where he touched her is colder now.
"See you later, Edward."
He turns back to look at her and his eyes are so green. Greener and brighter in the light from the cabin of her truck.
"See you later, Bella."
Then he's moving quickly and closing the door, but she sees it before she realizes it was the very thing he was trying to hide from her.
A dimly lit sign that reads Forks Mobile Home Park.
"You can just stop here."
"We can walk. It's not that far."
"Just let us out! Please!"
She remembers his reluctance and refusal, and knows now that she can call it shame.
Bella watches them as they walk together, hands deep in pockets, hunched shoulder to shoulder under the umbrella that Emmett holds high for both of them.
The illumination from her headlights bounces off their bodies.
It's beautiful, she thinks.
Like two haloed angels in a storm.
A/N: Pretty sure I borrowed much of that last scene from the "I don't want you to see my house" part of Pretty in Pink.
Thanks to all who have read and reviewed!