Chp 9: Vehement Verbalizations
Flip flops are a poor shoe choice for fall nights.
The rest of my body is chilled, but in the pleasant way that reminds you of the change of season and makes you nostalgic for leaf piles and warm cider. My feet, however, are pins and needles in the wind, angrily yielding to my command to trudge forward.
I want to tell myself that my escape from the diner was a choice to opt out of social constructs, an act of rebellion to avoid a scene of jealousy of which I want no part.
Of course, this is a lie.
I am a coward.
I feel like my life was stolen from me, and with it any right to feel entitlement or jealousy. Even worse, I was the thief. I am unworthy and undeserving, made so by my own hand.
These feeling seem so encompassing and I want to push them away, to think of only the gravel beneath my feet and the few stars I can glimpse through the cloud cover. I want to feel small and inconsequential rather than overrun with emotions. Perhaps if I try to focus on the close up, the minute details, the bigger picture will blur enough to be less overwhelming.
Things are not staying in the deep down tight little cage I push them in. It's as if they have sprung from their prison and are coursing through my veins; liquid misery taking the place of my blood. All I can do is push my feet against the pavement faster and faster in an attempt to leave it all behind.
Strangely enough, it is my craving for the chocolate triple thick milkshake with homemade whipped cream that brings me back from the edge. More than anything, I'm really pissed that I only got one sip, like a tease of something promised.
I really want that damn milkshake.
Lauren probably is just wasting it, letting it melt and run brown rivulets down the side of its cheery frosted glass.
Footsteps slap on the pavement behind me. The night is late enough that it is bordering on morning, so hearing someone should make me nervous. However, the pace of the stride tells me not to fear.
Jasper is approaching.
"Isabellarina, we should get you a cell phone if you're going to start doing this again," the pet name rolls from his lips to comfort.
He isn't even breathing hard, while I'm sucking down oxygen like a vacuum. I make a vow to reevaluate my opinion on being addicted to cigarettes. Jasper brings his footfalls to match my own, the sound of our steps becoming rhythmic as I briskly move on.
Where just moments ago I was alone and contemplating the universe, now my best friend is here and things already look a little less significant. Like maybe Lauren Mallory checking out Edward across the booth isn't something I need to get all despondent about.
"I think you are jealous of my spontaneous streak that leads me to stroll aimlessly in the middle of the night," I slow a bit, desiring to have easier breaths lend themselves to speaking.
He exhales and I picture the visible cloud of foggy breath taking with it some of his worry.
"I am not jealous. It's cold out and your feet are dirty as hell."
"You should be more impulsive, Jasper. You only get this one life."
"Really? You're going to start talking about the importance of life now? Besides, impulsive people end up as murderers."
"Touché. Where is the teacup?" If he sacrificed spending time with Alice in order to hunt me down I'll feel guilty as hell.
"A few blocks back in the Vega. I told her to hang tight while I came and knocked some sense into you."
I'm surprised he left her in the Vega alone, his sacred vehicular domain unguarded.
"So you survived Lord of the G Strings?"
"Turns out Alice really goes for that shit."
It becomes quiet, and Jasper pulls me to a stop and directs me down to sit on the curb. My body revolts against the stillness and my legs burn with the former rhythm of my steps. Already, the concrete creeps to steal the warmth from my body. I welcome its leeching pull, wanting to have the chill fill me rather than my melodramatic thoughts.
Jasper kicks off his shoes and tugs off his socks, handing them to me unceremoniously before yanking his sneakers back on. I take the offered warmth and cover my feet, placing my inadequate flip flops next to me and flexing my tingling toes to call my blood back.
"So, you decided to leave the diner unannounced?"
I pull out my crumpled pack and light a cigarette in prelude of Jasper's tête-à-tête, mirroring the exhaling cloud of breath he exudes with my own formed of nicotine and carcinogenic.
"More like Edward met someone else more fitting and I took my cue to make an exit."
He sighs, not buying my line of bull shit and calling me out, "Now, I have it on good authority that you actually left him in Lauren Mallory's disease ridden clutches."
"Do you think she really has a disease? I mean, we constantly use that angle to tear her down. I wonder if she actually does have herpes or something."
"I have no idea, and it might ruin the mystery if I find out. I like the idea that under her pink cotton panties there is a whole host of gruesome maladies that could be lurking."
"Now, Jasper, how do you know her panties are pink? Is there something you need to confess to me?"
"You're trying to sidetrack me here by questioning my sexual history, and it's just not going to work," he pulls the butt from my hands and crumples it under foot. "Why have we not talked about you and Edward Cullen yet? I mean, I'm not saying I want to start braiding each others' hair and shit, but this seems like the thing you would usually mention to me. If there were a precedence for you actually liking a guy, that is."
"Do you think it will always be like this?" I question, avoiding his line of thinking all together.
"What do you mean? Will we always have to have all our meaningful conversations at night outside regardless of the temperature?"
"No. I mean, do you think I'll always feel like a self-exiled outsider?"
He stops rubbing warmth into his thighs, understanding that my words are taking us to a more serious place than usual.
"Are you feeling like before? Are you getting worse again?" The questions are voiced softly, an indication of his fear.
Jasper didn't know me at my worst. We became friends a month after I tried to die, right in the booths of the diner I have just fled. Even then, I was not a joy to be around. I had been brought to a place where I was willing to choose death over everything else, and it didn't suddenly get better since I had botched offing myself. I didn't awaken filled with delight or even remorse for what I had done. Rather, I was filled with regret that I had failed, now stuck without feeling in some of my fingers and more problems to drown in.
This, too, I had failed at.
Still somehow, over my chocolate milkshakes and his penchant for tomato soup at any time of day, we managed to become friends. As in real friends, not the through away use of the word that is all too common.
A lot from those early months is clouded for me. My memories are coated in a film from all the antidepressants mixed with pain medicine they were pumping into my system, as if chemicals could change my outlook and heal my arms in one fell swoop.
Yet finding Jasper is not blurred. Discussing his thoughts on junk mail and his theories on how our culture could return to the bartering system, along with any other random topic we covered in the booth, are some of the few lucid memories I retain from that time.
We didn't even talk about my attempt, and we never really have. Jasper has checked out every book the Forks library has to offer on teenage depression and suicide, but he didn't push me to actually voice anything.
We just were, and we just are. Thinking of all this just makes me wish again that we could be different, that I could be his petite beauty with exotic flair and he could be my….well, my whatever the hell Edward was becoming.
I force myself to roll Jasper's questions around in my mind, trying to get an objective grasp of my mental state. Running through the last few weeks greets me with the surprising realizing that I am in fact not getting worse.
I am quick to reassure him now that I realize my long pause probably is making him panic, "Actually, I'm fine."
He raises an eyebrow my way, forcing it so high on his forehead with his disbelief that I fear it will migrate to his hairline permanently.
"Come on, my social circle has nearly doubled in size, and while that has caused some growing pains, I still think that I am doing okay."
"Well, good. But just say something if…. well, if you know," his words drop off.
"If I am feeling like taking a dive off a cliff or swallowing large amounts of rat poison?"
"Yes. Although, if you're contemplating swallowing any amount of rat poison that would be good to know," his shoulders release their tension with the return of our banter and he goes back to rubbing his thighs for warmth.
"I'm really okay. But thanks for asking, and checking in on me. Things are just changing, and I can't tell yet for sure but that seems like a good thing."
"Oh, it's definitely a good thing. I think that you're finally starting to try again. For so long all you would do is get up, be sullen, go to school, brood some more, go to work, be grim, come to my house, say something snarky, go to sleep and repeat again the next day. It's good to see you breaking out of this routine."
"Having a routine is reliable and keeps me steady. Besides, I don't think I brood," really I don't.
"You are the queen of brooding. Rose, Em, and I are all a little out of our depth. We know you have hurts that none of us can touch or understand, but we're your friends and God knows you need someone, so we try our best."
"It's okay for you to like a guy, Bella. You're allowed to want something for yourself."
He voices the sentiment as if it's nothing, as if it wasn't the echoing fear that sent my fleeing from the diner.
Jasper is spitting out wisdom like it generates from his salivation glands, and I find myself wondering when he figured everything out and how he developed all these smooth sentences to convey life lessons. However, I think it's more important to just swallow them down and try to absorb what will stick to my ribs.
"Thanks, for saying that. And for everything else. Having you, Rose, and Em has given me the closest thing to what I imagine normal is like. I know that it's weird, and I know that my dependency on you is probably not healthy, but it's not like I've ever really been healthy."
I lean back, letting my shoulders fall to the concrete sidewalk as I look above to the treetops along the forest edge a few feet behind us. Their outline against the night clouds forms knuckles of the earth, and I raise my finger to trace their dips and swells across the sky line.
The weight of my worries sheds with my ministrations, and I finally start feeling the lateness of the hour, my heavy eye lids begging me to sleep right on the hard ground.
However, my drowsiness is interrupted by the screech of tires pulling down the street. I prop myself up on my elbows to watch the silver blur approach, my stomach twisting when it realizes that Edward is coming.
Where Edward has stepped out of his car the streetlight casts a halo around his disheveled locks, as if it is declaring him a saint of the lampposts. I watch as the glow encompasses him, turning into an aureole enveloping his whole shining form. The sight changes the twist of worry in my stomach to a whole different kind of coil. I am reminded again that I could never settle for Jasper, or allow him to settle for me, when there is someone out there who can make me feel this pure attraction.
Edward comes to a stop a few feet away, as if Jasper has created a tangible circle with his words that he is hesitant to approach. Then Edward imparts a nod directed towards Jasper, who nods in return and rises to his feet.
"I'll see you at home, okay?" Jasper claps his hands together, wipes off the lingering cold from the sidewalk, and jogs off towards the Vega, loose shoe strings smacking the pavement like castanets with the tempo of his steps.
I can't help but wonder if the head bob they exchanged is some universal guy nod that can be used in any situation. As if one small movement of the head can not only convey a greeting, but also an acknowledgement of our whole situation. In this moment I imagine it to sum up 'hello-please-leave-I-need-to-have-a-weird-conversation-in-private-thanks'. Without such a request I don't think Jasper would have left me.
I'm still sitting on the curb, unwilling to move until I can glean some sort of understanding as to Edward's mood or the reason for his sudden appearance. When he gets close enough I see that his eyes are on fire, glaring with as much intensity as they did that first biology class.
In this moment, Edward Cullen must hate me.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" His terse question tells me I'm on the right track with my assumptions. He begins pacing as he addresses me, covering a short area on the pavement before pivoting and marching back with a renewed sense of vigor. I watch him make the circuit repeatedly, trying not to notice the way his arm muscles expand and contract when he clenches his fists.
I make a conscious choice not to match his anger, instead I match his clenching by curling and uncurling my toes hidden safely within Jasper's socks. I keep my tone steady as I reply, "A lot, actually. More than can be covered in one conversation." I try to appear cavalier, laying back down to welcome the cold pavement, feeling the flecks of cement press into my shoulder blades as I retreat from his scorching eyes.
"You can't just take off like that on someone, if you wanted to leave you should have just said so."
My anger flares, bucking my attempts to keep my cool. I feel unreasonably attacked so I spit, "I didn't think you'd here my voice over all the pheromones surrounding you and the Disney princess."
"So you just left me there because some girl was annoying me while you went to take a shit?"
I feel the heat of the blood pooling in my cheeks. Frustrated at my embarrassment, I bring the heels of my palms up to press against my eyes. However, I still decide it is better for him to think that I was shitting in the diner than have him know about my twisted pep talk.
"You didn't seem to mind," I whisper, my resentment dissipating and with it my volume now that I realize my overreaction. We're back to the pendulum swing, my frame of mind bouncing across the emotional spectrum with every reply.
The reverberation of his methodical steps halts, alerting me he has paused right in front of me in the street. Still, I don't look up as I listen to him quietly begin, "I took you to the diner, Bella. Not some Barbie with shit for brains. It's not my style to ditch." His tone still cuts like a razor.
Finally I prop myself up on my elbows, attempting to look him straight in the eye. Instead, I settle more for vaguely looking at his forehead, lacking the courage to truly face him down while the light is shining through his hair that way. I snap, "How was I supposed to know? I can't read your mind, Edward. For all I know you were pissed that you got stuck with me tonight."
He says nothing, breathing in and out slowly in an attempt to calm his temper. While the situation we're in does justify some annoyance, his anger has brought him to take a trip on the overreaction train as well. I'm just about to point this out, just about to quip about how he's a hot head too and should just let it go, when he speaks.
"I'm interested in you, okay. I'll spell it out since we're having so much trouble here. I find you intriguing and snarky and I want to know how you tick, etcetera," he holds his hands wide, opening them as if revealing hidden aces up his sleeves.
Now, I find myself stealing Alice's little 'o', wearing the shocked expression fully.
He presses on, words falling faster now that he's begun, "I know it's weird to say it, Bella. I'm supposed to be subtle and dance around the issue and convey my interest by complimenting you or some other shit, but that's just not working."
He is still pacing and his tone still reflects his earlier anger, causing a contrast between the amorous words he saying and the way he's voicing them with annoyance.
The paralysis of my tongue weakens enough to question, "Did you just use the word etcetera in your declaration?"
This seems to snap the edginess from the air, draining the conflict from our conversation and bringing us to a point where bluntness reigns.
"Normally, I don't have to say anything, or pursue anything I want. Typical girls are caught up in my looks and charm enough to do the work for me. This, this is new."
Somehow he manages to only sound slightly pompous with his statement, and is it really arrogance if it's true? I have no doubt that Edward is usually fawned over. I picture the girls dangling like cherries from the tree, with him able to pluck his choice among the more than willing ripened fruit. In this scenario I am rotting on the ground, my seeds and juice meant only for the mud.
But this is too important a moment to spend it picturing dead fruit.
"Well, I am far from typical, and I'm too fucked up to do things the normal way. But, I'm willing to follow your lead," I rise to my feet, brushing the small pebbles from my arms as I meet his gaze with as much height as my small stature will allow.
"I am mutually interested, etcetera," I swallow, and divert my eyes slightly with my confession. As much as I'm a fan of honesty and cutting through bullshit, it still seems like we're doing this all backwards. "This is really strange, even for me," I admit.
"I know, and that's part of the appeal."
The truth of our exchange hangs over us, but not like the heavy silence we've been faced with at different intervals throughout the night, which was awkward and impenetrable. Rather, it seems as if something has been lifted, like the air is easier to breathe and lighter with our acknowledgement.
A/N: The general consensus is that adding questions is lame so.... nix on that I guess.
The concept of a 'universal guy nod' is something I've heard before, but I can't remember where. I bent it for my use here, but wanted you to know I don't claim it.
Also, I know this was like 90% dialogue, which is hard for me because Bella speaking does not sound the same as Bella thinking. I didn't want it to come off like Dawson's Creek conversation (you know what I mean?), so that is the reason for the wait.
And now, I'd say we've hit at least half way : D Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing.