Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended. This is a period fic-let (short story) which will be told in Edward's point of view. Loosely based on William Kotzwinkle's "Jack in the Box". Again, no copyright infringement is intended. Beta'd by HollettLA.
A man who carries a cat by the tail learns something he can learn in no other way. - Mark Twain
"Made in the Shades"
Chapter Ten: Everyone's Pal
"So…tonight's the big night," Jasper said.
I sighed and pulled into a parking spot. "Yeah…I'm so excited and a little nervous, but…I think it'll be okay." I turned to look at him.
He was slowly shaking his head. "Bella Swan…"
"Yes, Bella Swan." My smile was fucking massive right now.
"What do you have planned?" Jasper left the car.
Reaching into the backseat, I grabbed my books and then followed. "Dinner in Port, and then the drive-in. But if she wants to do something else…" I trailed off as I closed the door. "I'm not picky."
"Awww…" Jasper chuckled. "Just as long as you guys are together, right?"
I laughed too. "Pretty much."
"Wrong." Jasper composed his smile. "This is the night…it'll make or break you. If things don't work out with Bella, she'll still tell all the girls what kind of time she had. It's best you act like a gentleman, and…pull out all the stops. Take her some place classy and stay away from the cliffs."
Nodding, I blew out a breath. "I hope things work out. I'm—I'm crazy about her," I whispered the last part.
He patted my back while we began to walk. "I know you are. I'm just saying…I mean, look at me. I'm ready to run Alice down an aisle, and she's back to acting like I don't exist."
"I'm sorry," I said.
He chuckled bitterly. "It is what it is…"
We silently walked into school, while my head whipped every-which-way, looking for Bella.
"Stop that. Let her find you."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah…whatever."
We went our separate ways. I went to my locker, and Jasper walked down to his. Just as I was about to close the distance, I dropped my books because someone bumped their shoulder to mine.
"Oh…shit. I'm sorry," Jimmy laughed.
"Fuck you," I spat and bent over to grab my books.
"You think you're a tough guy now, huh?"
I stood up and squared my shoulders. "Get the fuck out of my way."
He pushed me. "And if I don't?"
"Jimmy, knock it off!" Emmett came over to usher him away.
My eyes never left his as he backed away from me.
"What happened?" Bella asked. She stood beside me, but I wasn't going to look away first. "Edward?"
As soon as Jimmy and Emmett rounded a corner, I turned to smile down at Bella. "Good morning." I bent low and stopped a mere centimeter from her cheek. "May I?" I whispered.
She sighed and her cheeks were flushed. It was like I could feel the heat radiating off of her. "Don't ask, just…" she swallowed, "do it."
While smiling so wide, I closed the distance to place a soft kiss on her cheek. "Thank you," I whispered, touching my nose to her ear.
She squealed. "That makes me tingle."
"It does?" When I pulled away, I saw that her chest was heaving—up and down—her breasts were moving up and down so rapidly. "Wow…" I stared, wishing my cardigan and her blouse would disappear.
"Morning, Edward!"
My head snapped to Rosalie, who was wearing a low-cut top. "M-morning!" I lifted my hand, but then looked down when Bella hit my shoulder. "What?"
She narrowed her eyes at me. "Just…nothing." Bella slumped her shoulders.
"I'm sitting with Alice today." Rosalie came to stand next to me. "Save you a seat?" She rubbed up my bicep.
"Um…"
Bella let out a groan, and then walked away from me.
"Hey!" I shouted and ran after her. "What—what's wrong?" I turned Bella to face me, and she looked so sad. "What did I do?"
She shook her head and kept her gaze down. "Nothing," Bella whispered. "It's just…I don't know."
"Okay." I was confused. "C-can, um, we sit together at lunch?" I asked, my heart beating furiously. She agreed to go out on a date with me, but I wasn't sure what was okay and what wasn't—as far as spending time together went.
"Really…you want to?"
I nodded, taking her books out of her hands. "Of course, I do."
"Well, Rosalie asked you to sit with her. . ."
"And I want to sit with you." I put my arm out, hoping she'd link it with hers.
Bella was smiling again as she took hold of my arm. "Yes…I usually sit with Angela and Jake."
"Would you mind if Jasper—"
"Not at all." She rushed out. "Did you have any trouble with the King Lear essay?"
We were right in front of our English classroom. "Nope. Mr. Banner said two thousand words, and I think I went over it—I'm not sure. I'm trying so hard." I shook my head.
"It shows…I mean, I peek at your work when he hands it all back—you're so smart, getting A plusses and stuff."
"I'm not," I blurted, hating myself. It was one thing to apply to colleges to make people think I was intelligent, but I didn't want to lie to Bella. "You're the smart one…taking senior classes."
She grinned. "You are smart. You just need to pay better attention." She reached up to poke my nose, and then she turned and walked into the room.
I trailed behind her, staring at her ass—which was covered by my sweater. It still looked fantastic. "Hall to desk service, m'lady," I laughed as I placed her books down in front of her.
"Oops." Rosalie pushed her pencil off her desk.
I didn't give her the satisfaction of picking it up. What the fuck was her deal? I had a suspicion that my interaction with Rosalie upset Bella. And the last thing I wanted to do was upset my sexy date. Screw being a gentleman. After all, she pushed her pencil off her desk. She's not that slick anymore. I'm hip to her tricks. Bitch.
"Can you grab that?" Rosalie asked. She just had to and now if I don't, I'll look like an asshole.
I groaned and bent over, and I had a déjà vu. Bella went to get it as well, and we bumped our heads together. "Shit." I cupped my forehead, laughing. Bella was giggling too. "Did I hurt you?" I reached over to brush my fingers along her eyebrow, where the impact had been.
She slightly shook her head no. "I'm okay."
I stared at her lips, so pink, so full, and so gorgeous. "You look so pretty today."
"Hello?" Rosalie sounded annoyed.
"Here." Bella chucked the pencil back to her. "You were saying?" She stared at me.
I grinned, finally taking my seat next to her. "N-nothing. It's just, um, you look very beautiful today—every day."
"You're so sweet," she sighed and faced the front of the room.
"Um…" I poked her hand with my pinky. "We're still on for tonight, right?"
Her eyes widened as turned to look at me. "Why…did something come up? If you need to cancel—I—I under—"
"Hell, no!" I nearly shouted. "Sorry. I—um—no. Nothing came up…I'm still available, are you?"
"Definitely."
"Great." I nodded.
"Yeah."
"I can't wait." I covered my mouth after admitting that.
"Neither can I." She smiled so wide.
And I stared at her for the rest of English class. She told me to cut it out, but I couldn't help it.
And so she got over it.
…0.o…
As soon as I came home from school, I jacked off three times in succession. I needed to get it out of my system. My mother looked at me funny, because she wanted to help me prepare and get ready for my big night, but Dad coerced her into leaving me alone.
He knew what I was doing.
"Mom?" I had an hour before I had to pick up Bella, which meant I could drive over to the new Olympic Outfitters store in town. It's next door to the grocery store, and I fell in love with a leather jacket they had on display earlier in the week.
The owner, Mr. Samuels, said they got the jacket by mistake. They were supposed to get a few hiking jackets, and that came instead. It was gorgeous, black, shiny, had zippered pockets, and I thought the mistake was some kind of twisted fate—as I felt it was my destiny to own it.
"Yes, dear?" She was peeling apples for pie.
"I saw this jacket—and well—I really want it for tonight." I stared, waiting.
"What do you need?" Dad asked, joining us and stealing an apple peel.
I groaned under my breath. I was never getting it now. "It's no big deal—nothing."
"A jacket," Mom said.
"What's wrong with the one you have? The one you had to have because it looked like the one the guy wore in Rebel without a Cause—"
"East of Eden," I corrected him. "But that was last spring—in Seattle. It's all about the leather here in Forks." I hugged myself.
My father laughed at me. He thought it was the funniest thing in the world. "You…in a leather jacket? Ay-oh! Brando! Who do you think you are, The Wild One?" He waved his hands like a jackass. "You're not an actor, Edward…You're not some guy from a movie."
"So?" I threw my hands up. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"Why can't you be yourself?"
I didn't reply to that. "You don't have to get me anything for my birthday this year."
"No," he deadpanned. "Wear what you have."
"Please!" It was almost a full-blown whine but I reined it in. "What's the point of having money if—"
Dad barked out another laugh. "I'm well-off, and you're my child. Don't mistake my wealth for yours. You also have no clue what the meaning of a dollar is . . . Grow up, son—"
"I'll never ask for anything again." I crossed my fingers and toes.
"Get a job, Edward." Dad fanned out the paper. "The button-mill is hiring—a dollar and ten cents an hour. You'll have that jacket in no time . . . since your allowance isn't enough," he let out an elongated sigh.
"Mom?" I stared at her, the tie and deal breaker.
"Esme," Dad said sternly, raising a brow and peering around the paper.
Mom stared at the apple in her hands. "Your father's right, Edward. You should be yourself." She nodded.
With my head hung low, I went to leave the kitchen.
"Edward?" Mom called, and I thought she was going to take pity on me. "Go look in your father's closet. He has so many snazzy blazers."
"Esme…" Dad complained.
"Go!" Mom shooed me away.
Dad glared. I grinned and ran up to grab his favorite patterned sports jacket.
Take that, old man.
Running it into my room, I quickly picked out a new outfit to go underneath. I wore black slacks, a green plaid button-down shirt, and the navy blue patterned sports jacket.
Surprisingly, I was happy with the result. The jacket made my shoulders broader, and I looked like a man, not a skinny teenager. But, the colors were all wrong.
"Don't wear that shirt—put a white polo under." Dad came into my room. "It's—too busy. You'll hypnotize the poor girl with too many patterns." He went into my closet, and then threw my white polo at me. "And...Edward, it doesn't match." He made a face. "What's wrong with you?"
"I don't know. . .Thanks for the shirt." I quickly undressed to put that shirt on instead.
"I've been meaning to talk to you. . . especially before you left for college." He had a weird tone to his voice. "I know we never spoke about it, but you've never dated, only drooled over women," he laughed.
"Rub it in." I rolled my eyes.
"Anyway," he looked back to me, "sex, Edward. More and more these days, teens your age are having it. What do you know about sex?"
My heart rate sped up. "Sex?" I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. "I know it's something I'd like to do one day…with a girl…maybe two…no, just one. Any more than that, and I'd just be greedy."
Dad slowly shook his head at me. "Keep dreaming."
"What, um, what's it like?" I whispered.
Dad smirked at me. "I can promise you that it'll be one of the greatest pleasures you will ever know."
"And…how do I get a girl to do that?"
"You usually have to marry her first." He put his hands up. "Let's backtrack a bit. I want to know what you know."
"I know the mechanics—where things go," I said. "But, it's a first date, and Bella is not…fresh." Deep down in my heart, I hoped she was. Maybe someday I'll have sex, but tonight I was just hoping for a real kiss…and maybe pretending to touch her boob by accident. Just, "Oops, sorry. Didn't see it there."
"Fair enough." He nodded. "What do you know about pleasing a woman?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "Isn't that what my penis is for? It's like…mutual stimulation." My cheeks flamed when I said the latter part of that sentence.
He laughed at me.
"Dad…" I squirmed under his chuckles. "Stop." I actually felt like I might tear up, and I didn't know why I was so sensitive.
"I'm sorry. You know the proper thing to do is wait until after marriage."
Now I laughed at him. "You're funny."
"I'm serious."
"Can you tell me how to…do stuff?" I asked, ever so eager. "You're a doctor…and my dad." I pleaded, looking like a hungry puppy.
His hand took the shape of a gun—two fingers pointing out and a thumb raised. "Well…" He looked down to his hand, and his thumb twirled in a circle.
I found myself doing it too. "Like this? What am I doing this to? Am I going to pretend to shoot her?" I snorted a laugh.
"Oh, Edward…you're adorable," Mom said from the doorway. "You do what feels natural, and your thumb will find purchase." She came in to palm my cheeks, and now I wanted to die. "When the time is right—which it isn't tonight—you do whatever your gut tells you."
"Esme!" Dad shouted. "Don't tell him that. The poor boy will go to prison."
"Not my Edward." Mom shook her head, staring at me. "Not my respectable, handsome, baby boy." She kissed my cheek. "After tonight, you should be able to decide if you'd like to court Bella. And then…we'll—"
"Esme…Jared's crying," Dad lied.
Mom gasped and fled my bedroom.
I thought Dad was just making sure she left the room, but he was really staring at her ass—like she was some piece of meat and not my mother. I hated that.
"Hey," I said.
He turned back to me slowly, glaring. "What?"
"Nothing," I whispered. "She's just—that's mom, and I know she's your wife, but...I don't know."
"Keep that in mind." He let out a small chuckle. "The next time you find your tongue hanging out of your mouth and you're suddenly leering, remember that the woman you're scoping is someone's mother, sister, or daughter."
"Oh. . ."
"But when you're in my house, don't pay attention to what I look at. That's my wife. She's my woman, and so I can look."
"I know that," I said.
"When you have your own, you'll understand." He stood up to sigh again. "No drinking and driving. You get that girl home on time, and for God's sake…" He stopped.
"What?" I asked.
"Have a good time." He tossed me a small-foiled thing, and I realized it was a condom. Believe it or not, before I moved to Forks, I had never seen one. Jake keeps a box in his glove compartment, and Jasper has many—wishful thinking.
Jasper taught me how to put one on.
We're not queer, we're just best friends, and we're not shy.
"I don't need this," I said.
"I know, but just in case…can't hurt to carry it with you." He raised a brow. "What if things…take a turn? Do you love Bella enough to marry her if, God forbid, she became with child?"
"Fuck…" I blanched back, like he was the Creature from the Black Lagoon.
"No, you don't love her at all—you're dating, which is kid shit . . . Do you like her enough to forgo college and live off your mother and me because you have to get two jobs? We're not supporting you and your family. . .Or!" he shouted. "You may think she's your gal, but she's everyone's pal. What do you know about syphilis?"
"Dad, stop." I was scared now.
"That thing you love to pull on? It can fall off."
I gasped and cupped my cock.
He nodded. "That's right. Put it in your wallet…can't hurt. . . I suppose I should, uh, tell you how to put it on?"
"No, I know. Jasper showed me-"
"What?" he snapped. "Showed you? What the hell are you boys up to?"
"He just. . . showed me, that's all." While I reached back for my wallet, I nodded. "Give me two more—I'll wear three if I have to." I held out my hand.
He didn't reply and left without another word.
I turned back to the man in the mirror—with the broad shoulders.
He'd look so much better with the leather jacket.
"Edward!" Peanut shouted, running into my room.
I turned from the mirror to smile down at him. He was beaming and trying to open a box. "They finally came!"
"What?" I took the box from him and started undoing the tape.
"Our rings . . .you look nice." He eyed me from head to toe.
"Tonight's the night." I managed to get the box open, and then he snatched it from my hands.
"I can't wait to give Chelsea hers..." He opened a smaller box. "This one's yours." He threw it at me to take out the other one.
"Some timing." I opened it up to see that it didn't say "Angel Face". Instead, the red plastic ring said "Angel Fake".
"What the...?" Peanut stared at his, frowning.
I was doing the same. "What does yours say?"
"Peanut Cal...it's was supposed to be 'girl'. What's a Cal?" He stared up at me.
I shrugged. "Maybe it goes with Angel Fake." I threw my ring back into the box. "You sure I look good?" I faced the mirror again.
"You look like a grown-up."
I nodded. "Yeah..."
Thank you for reading!
Please leave me your thoughts.
Once again, I KNOW how immature Edward is. Trust me; it's the innocence of the time. Ignorance was truly bliss back then. Also, sexual education between boys and girls was SO different. I have NO proof, like websites or documents, but my grandmother told me. Boys knew A LOT more than girls did (the little they even knew). Sexual education for the female consisted of a demonstration of donning a sanitary napkin - explaining the natural process leading to being a mother. *smh*
I'm sure basic biology was taught, but. . .
Oh, and MANY people had sex before marriage. It just wasn't spoken about!
:)
Thanks again!