Chapter Eleven – Bella

It was as if time had stopped. Everything else ceased to exist except for him and me, captured in this one moment. I could see the intention in his eyes right before it happened. I could feel his hand on my waist a second before he actually touched me. I could hear the alarm bells go off in my head, and feel my entire body tense the moment our lips touched. I shouldn't want this. It was wrong. It was cheating. I should have pushed him back and never speak to him again for taking advantage of the situation like I'd suspected he'd do.

But emotion had its own logic, its own rules.

His lips molded against mine, soft and warm. His hand, still on my waist, groped the material of my coat to hold me tighter. His other hand slipped to my face and came to rest against my cheek. His thumb drew slow circles against my skin, matching the movement of his lips, slow and kind of hesitant at first. His fingers grazed my temple before he tangled them in my hair. A moan escaped me, but it was swallowed in his kiss.

Kissing him back shouldn't have been so instinctive, but it was. I clung to him almost desperately, my fingers gripping at the front of his shirt. His tongue flickered against my bottom lip, seeking access which I'd soon granted him. He pressed me against the door as our kiss deepened, and suddenly his hands were everywhere, as did my own. I traced a line up his chest with my fingers and he hissed into my mouth. His body heat was radiating through the thin cotton of his shirt. I was enveloped in his warmth. He was standing so close, but not close enough. I snaked my arms around his neck, bringing him closer, as my lips crashed against his again and again.

I barely recognized myself. I'd never been like that with Jacob. It was as if I'd never been kissed before. I was getting breathless but I didn't care. I never wanted him to stop, ever. There was liquid fire surging through me, pumping in my veins, and I thought I could live with this feeling forever. It was better than oxygen, better than anything I'd ever felt before. I thought my heart would burst into million little pieces within the next few minutes. I felt my knees give way, so I tightened my grip around his neck for a better balance. He was taller than me; I had to step on tiptoes for doing that. It made my body stretch against his; the ballerina in me was pleased to have her lessons finally paying off.

"Bella…"

Reality rushed in with the sound of him whispering my name. For a moment, I was paralyzed. Everything came into sharp focus, although my mind was in incredible disarray. I couldn't figure out what the hell we were doing, what the hell I was doing, how we got there. I didn't even realize that he was… that he wanted… that I wanted… but then again, somewhere deep down I thought I'd always known.

Either way, someone's going to get hurt. That was what I'd told Alice not so long ago. Someone would get hurt here, I thought. This was still infidelity. This was wrong. But feeling guilty wasn't going to make things better. The only way to make things better was to put an end to this.

He was kissing his way to my neck now, oblivious to my distress. His breath was hot against my skin, which was already prickling wherever his lips touched. I threw my head back instinctively when his lips settled on my pulse point. I grasp the hair at the back of his neck, trying to resist him, but he misinterpreted my motions and gently sucked on my neck. Keeping my mind on the right track was a struggle, but now that I knew what I had to do, it was difficult to just lose myself in the moment again.

Every cell in my body was screaming in protest when I pulled away from him. "I can't," I breathed. I reached out to touch his bottom lip and raised my eyes to his. "Not until he knows."

He looked puzzled, slightly disoriented even, but he didn't protest when I gently untangled myself from his grasp, trying not to wince as I did. Rejecting him shouldn't be so physically painful. I tried not to ponder over it. He nodded somberly, wordlessly. His eyes, still locked on mine, spoke volumes. I knew he understood.

xoxox

The room was dark when I walked in. Alice's breathing was strained but steady, and I hoped she'd finally be able to sleep for the entire night. I was relieved to find her asleep, because I wasn't in the mood to talk about where I'd been. I knew I had to explain it to myself first. I changed quickly in the darkness and went into bed. I tried very hard not to think of the way his lips felt against mine, how warm his skin was and how gentle his touch felt. I tried harder not to compare it to the touch I'd known, Jacob's touch, because that alone was enough to bring guilt back. For one night, I didn't want to feel guilty. For one night, I needed to be selfish and heartless, because the truth was that there was nothing I wanted more but to be kissed like that again.

The next day, I was astonishingly better. I was more than that. I was feisty as I'd never been before in my life. Luckily, Alice was too groggy to notice, but I noticed. It was there throbbing just below my skin, popping and sizzling in my veins, replacing the fire that had been there last night and had probably caused it. I skipped my regular coffee before the first class – it seemed safer. Fortunately my morning didn't include theoretical lessons, and I hoped to kill off all that energy while dancing. For once, I was grateful for my modern dance lesson. Normally I would resent it, feeling it was such a waste of time when I could practice ballet instead, but this morning it was a relief. I could immerse myself in the music and channel all that never ending energy into it. I wasn't one to stand out in modern dance, but today I could see Miss Ellen, my instructor, was impressed, if not amazed. It made me kind of sad to let her down knowing it was probably a one time thing.

By lunchtime, despite my hopes, the energy hadn't ceased. Replacing coffee for a bottle of water, I idly wondered when I was going to crash, and how bad it would be. I had lunch alone. Usually I'd spend it with Anya, but she was still down with that flu. She looked horrible when I'd seen her the other night. I didn't get a chance to check on her this morning; her roommate said she was still asleep and I didn't want to disturb her. I made myself a mental note to stop by her room after school. I hoped she'd feel better soon. We had most of our classes together on Fridays, and I was beginning to feel a bit lonely without her around.

With nothing else to do but fiddle with my salad and read my book, I could feel the memory of last night slowly begin to wear a more tangible shape. I'd managed to block it all morning, to keep my body and my mind distracted, but I could no longer do that. I ran it back in my head, watching it as if it were a film. I remembered Anya showing up in my room just when I slipped into my sneakers. She looked hesitant, and for a moment I didn't understand why. And then I looked at her more closely, and guessed what she was going to say before she had said it.

During the short walk to his place, I was wondering if I was doing the right thing. I could just call him and tell him we weren't coming. Hadn't I already done something like that a few days before? He'd understand. But part of me didn't want to cancel on him again. And it was stronger than the part of me who was nervous to be alone with him. That alone was kind of silly, and arrogant. By that point it was obvious to me on some level of consciousness that this thing between us was more than friendship, but I was still unable to name it. It was this kind of a bond, stronger than any friendship I'd ever managed to sustain. Surely I could show up there without risking it?

I felt like turning back the moment I touched the doorbell, but I couldn't bring myself to. It kind of made me glad that when he realized Anya wasn't coming, he looked scared too. I remembered thinking he was sweet for cooking for us. The rest was a blur. We watched the movie and talked a little, but I didn't realize I fell asleep until I opened my eyes to find him staring at me.

A part of me wanted to kiss him right there and then.

I shook my head. I didn't need to be reminded how things had gone from there on. I wrapped my arms around myself, but it was hardly enough to restore the warmth of his arms, the security I felt in his embrace, that insatiable fire…

More than the yearning that had still been there, just beneath the surface, there was also dread that was growing stronger as time came closer to my next class.

I stared at my copy of Breakfast at Tiffany's, my gaze empty and apathetic. The words were just a clutter of letters, making no sense to me. I hoped to be able to read a few sections again before class, but it was absolutely impossible to keep my focus now. All I could see in front of me was his eyes, dark and burning. I wasn't sure if I was looking forward to seeing him, or scared out of my wits. I wondered what he'd say, what I'd say. Would he smile at me? Would he ignore it altogether, or apologize? We'd hardly said two words to one another before I left, and except for what I'd found in his eyes, I could only speculate how he felt about all this. I was half curious, half anxious to know what he was thinking.

But by the time everyone else had taken their seats in class and Mr. Bronson shut the door behind him, I knew Edward wasn't coming. Dismay hit me harder than I thought was possible. It felt so strange to sit there alone, with neither Edward nor Anya on my side. I was so used to have them around, to turn and flash a smile at one of them in random moments of the lesson, to look up and catch him stare at me, and watch him blush while realizing he'd been caught. Only a night ago, I'd been looking forward to this lesson. Today, it held no interest for me without him there. I sat there baffled and detached, doodling on the margins of my notepad, coming up with endless excuses as for why he wouldn't be there.

Although we got to spend quite a lot of time together in the past two weeks, our schedules were impossible to coordinate on Fridays, and the first time we'd met was this class, so I couldn't know if he just ditched this class, or whether he took the entire day off for whichever reason. But why would he take the day off? Was he afraid to face the consequences of last night? He didn't seem like someone who would escape a confrontation like that. There had to be another reason, a better reason, something that would make more sense than that.

I wondered if it would be okay to call him. Just to ask what was wrong, of course. I secretly wanted to do more than that, but I knew I'd never have the courage to actually show up at his place after last night. At the moment I didn't even know if I had the guts to call him at all, but I felt I had to. I couldn't leave things as they were. There were things to be said, apologies to be made. I felt as if I owed him an apology. In a way, I'd been leading him on, encouraging this when I'd known it had no future as long as Jacob was in the picture.

Why Jacob had still been in the picture was an entirely different issue.

"Yes, Bella?"

I blinked and looked up to meet Mr. Bronson's inquiring gaze. "I'm sorry, what?" I stammered. I could feel my face and ears grow warmer. I felt as if he had put a spotlight right in my face. Everyone was watching me. I clutched my pen tighter.

"You wanted to say something?" he urged me, smiling encouragingly.

Only as he asked it, I realized my hand was still half raised in the air. Damn it. I searched my mind furiously, trying to think what it was I meant to comment about, but all I could see in front of me were Edward's eyes, smoldering in the dim light of his apartment.

And then, for one blessed moment, I remembered. "I just thought it was interesting, the way Holly and Paul are pretty much in the same situation," I said, ignoring the quiver in my voice. "She's a working girl, and you can say he's one, too. They're both are financed by an older person. In his case it's just one woman, in Holly's case, it's several. He's just like her, only he doesn't get fifty dollars for the power room."

"That's a good point," said Mr. Bronson. He looked at me strangely for a second, before he continued a speech that quickly became unintelligible for my ears. I sank back into my daydream in no time.

Now it was clear to me, more than anything, that Jacob and I weren't meant to be, that I had to end it. Maybe it had never been more than a summer romance. I didn't know if I was in love with Edward, but I sure wasn't in love with Jacob. Sure, I'd loved him. But that fire, that passion, that want… those had never been there. And I knew I'd been capable of them. I was, last night. And even if things with Edward weren't going anywhere, I still knew what I had to do.

I knew my mom would be thrilled. She would restrain herself from saying "I told you so" but it would be clear enough from her expression. My dad would be the complete opposite, but like her, he'd try to hide his disappointment from me the best he could. I didn't know if they understood they were both like an open book to me. The more subtle they had attempted to be, the easier it became for me to read them. I wondered if it worked the other way too.

I tried to guess how they'd respond to Edward. My dad admired Dr. Cullen, so I hoped he wouldn't resent me for dumping his best friend's son for Dr. Cullen's son. And if he did, there was no way he could be bitter to Edward for long after getting to know him. It would be easier with my mom. She would be smitten instantly, naturally, but she'd secretly resent me for choosing someone from Forks, the place she hated whole heartedly. I guessed it was my nature, or my fate, to challenge myself with all those long distance relationships.

Wait a minute… what was I doing? Edward and I kissed once, and I was already planning on how to introduce him to my parents? I didn't even know if he was still interested, after last night, and with him ditching, there was a good chance I'd never know.

Ugh, I just wanted this day to be over. I was getting melodramatic. I hardly felt like myself at all.

I only knew the class had ended when I heard the buzz of people's voices above my head. If Edward were here, I'd probably tease him a little longer before hurrying towards my last lesson of the day. Thinking of his absence, disappointment came rushing back. I was tempted to just ditch, but I knew I couldn't. Ballet was just too important for me, more important than anything else.

"Bella, hold on a minute, please."

Crap. Mr. Bronson's expression was unreadable as he waited for me to join him by his desk, but I had a feeling I knew what he was about to say. He probably noticed I wasn't paying attention today. Who knew what they were talking about before I made that comment earlier. With that look he gave me, I might have repeated something someone else had said.

"I noticed you were sitting alone today. I couldn't help but wonder about that."

I couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped me. It was a small class and everyone's absence was always noticeable. He knew how close I'd been with Anya and Edward. I caught him hide a smile behind his briefcase whenever he walked into class in the middle of our banter. Me sitting alone today would catch anyone's attention. "Anya is sick."

"And Mr. Cullen?"

"I don't know about Edward, I'm afraid," I said, looking anywhere but at him. I knew it was silly. He didn't know, probably wasn't even interested, but it felt as if I'd give something away if I'd direct my eyes with his, and even though he could probably care less, I didn't want to risk that.

"Oh. Well send Anya my regards," he said, holding the door open for me. "Have a nice weekend."

"Thank you, Sir, you too," I mumbled, and hurried out.

xoxox

I stopped at Anya's room before heading to mine. She was awake and slightly better than last night. She smiled at me as I walked into her room, and laid her book aside.

"No, you to get sick," she protested when I sat at the edge of her bed.

I shrugged off her concern. She looked slightly flushed, but her eyes were alert and gleaming. I smiled. It was so good to see her. "How are you feeling?"

"More good."

"Better," I corrected her, and she smiled. "We missed you in class today. Mr. Bronson asked about you."

"I to miss you too. I to be… what you say… boring?"

"Bored."

"Very bored," she nodded. She straightened a wrinkle on her blanket, not looking at me for a moment. Then when she looked up, her eyes were serious. "Last night was good?"

I looked away. I wasn't ready to discuss it with someone else so fast. I hadn't expected her to bring it up so soon in the conversation, but it was as if she'd sensed something was going on. Almost as if she knew something like this would happen if she didn't join me. And in a way, I knew it too. I shouldn't have gone.

Her hand covered mine, shaking me out of my reverie. "Something happened."

Even with her broken English, it wasn't a question. I sighed. "Yeah, something happened." She didn't say anything. She just sat there watching me patiently, and I loved her for it. "We kissed." It seemed unfair to say that he kissed me because it obviously wasn't what happened.

She didn't squeal or encourage me to speak like Alice would have done under similar circumstances. Her face remained sealed. I wished I could know what she was thinking. "It was bad?"

"No, it wasn't bad," I said, laughing softly. It was anything but bad, and that was just the problem. "It's just… I'm so confused."

"What is he to think?"

"Edward?" It was weird, speaking out his name now, after repeating it only in my mind throughout the day. "I don't know. He wasn't in class today."

She said nothing for a moment, just sort of looked at me, as if she was waiting for me to say more, maybe break into some sort of confession. Then, she shrugged. "You know what I to think."

Yes, I did know. Her words still echoed, clear as in the first day she'd said them. I think he is to like you, too. I shook my head. I didn't want to think about it just now. I got up and reached for my bag. "I'd better go. You need to get some rest." I leaned over to kiss her forehead. She was a bit warm. "Call me if you need anything."

As I made my way to my own room, I felt the energy begins to fade. I was slowly coming down from my high, and it didn't come lightly. I felt as if exhaustion was colliding onto me too fast. I was relieved it was Friday. With so much of us sick here, I wondered how it was possible I hadn't been infected yet. I hoped it would just skip me. I didn't want to spend days in bed away from my ballet practice. I'd go insane.

I opened the door, expecting to find Alice sick and miserable, but instead she was on the floor, doing warm ups. "Alice, what the hell are you doing out of bed?" I asked, pretending to be horrified with her. I dropped my bag on my bed and kicked my shoes off.

"I'm feeling better!" she beamed at me. "I couldn't stay in bed one more minute! I'm not completely better, but I can speak like a normal person again. My bones are aching, I feel I haven't danced in ages! I still have a fever, so that means I still can't go to classes or go down to Starbucks to visit my latte boy."

"Jasper the latte boy?" I asked, rolling my eyes.

"Indeed," she flashed a toothy grin at me. Then she did a double take and watched me more closely. "You're looking different."

"Am I?" I asked, turning my back on her. I cursed my bad luck. Why couldn't this happen when she was still high from medications? "I just had a good day, that's all." I grabbed some spare clothes and my toiletries bag and was by the door in a record time. "I'm going to take a shower."

I heard her call out something after me, but I didn't stop to question it.

xoxox

I told Alice I had a lot of homework to catch up on, and so she didn't question me for the rest of the evening. I watched her from over my book and waited until she took her antibiotics. Those pills had always knocked her out dead, and it wasn't more than fifteen minutes before she fell asleep. Only when I was sure she was out cold I snuck out of the room.

It was hardly nine, but on a Friday, everyone had better things to do than hang out in the common room. The phone was surprisingly available. I had his number memorized; I'd had it since the first time he'd invited Anya and me over. I hesitated when I dialed, but only for a moment. If I didn't say anything about the other night, I still wanted to know if he was okay.

"Hello?"

My heart lifted, and began to beat slightly faster than usual at the familiar voice. "Hi."

"Bella." There was a hint of surprise in his voice. He cleared his throat once. "How… how are you?"

"You weren't in class today," I blurted out, ignoring his inquiry altogether.

"Yeah, I was…" He cleared his throat again, and I suddenly realized it was more than that. It sounded like a pretty nasty cough. "I'm sick."

It had never occurred to me I'd been right. He looked pretty awful the other night, but he claimed he was okay, so I dismissed it. But now that he'd mentioned it, he did sound bad. "Are you okay there by yourself? Do you need anything?"

"Don't you dare coming here. If you're not sick after last night, I don't want you to get sick now." I heard him sniff, and groan. "I'm going to kill my cousin."

"Your cousin?" I asked, puzzled.

"It's all her fault."

"You never told me you had a cousin."

"Sure I did, the other night."

"No, you didn't."

He chuckled. "I'm pretty sure I did, Bella."

"I'm pretty sure you didn't," I laughed nervously. His raspy voice made my skin crawl, but in a good way.

"It must have been after you fell asleep, then," he teased me, and then went silent, because we both knew what happened afterwards. "So are we going to talk about it or are we going to pretend it never happened?"

My hands were shaking in my lap. He sounded nonchalant, but I knew it was as difficult for him as it had been for me. I tried to relax. I'd had the entire day to prepare myself for this conversation, and now I found myself speechless and at loss against it. "I'm not sure what to say," I whispered eventually.

"Maybe you can answer something for me, then. Something I've been wondering about."

His voice was velvet. I shivered involuntarily. "Okay," I said slowly. I guessed it was the least I owed him.

"After I kissed you," he started hesitantly, as if the concept had been strange to him. "You didn't say you didn't want to do this; you said you couldn't do this," he pointed out. "You also said, 'not until he knows'."

"I know what I said, Edward," I said as softly as I could.

"I guess what I'm wondering is why you said it."

I felt my cheeks grow hot. I was grateful he was on the other end and couldn't see me. I knew it wasn't a conversation I would have been able to have face to face.

"Bella?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"Will it help if I say it first?"

For a second, I forgot how to breathe. "Umm, sure…?"

"I know about Jacob. And I didn't mean to come between you two, I really didn't. But it's stronger than me. And I should probably have said something before kissing you last night, but I… what I'm trying to say is that I like you. I like you a lot."

It took only a second for the words to sink in. "I like you, too," I heard myself say. It shouldn't be so easy. It shouldn't feel so right. "More than I probably should."

"But you and Jacob – "

I shook my head sadly even though he couldn't see me. "It's over with Jacob. It's been over for a while."

Then there was silence, as if he needed a moment to digest this. "What do you want to do?" he asked, so quietly I'd hardly heard him. "I mean, is this the part where you're telling me you never want to see me again?"

I laughed softly. I wondered if whatever medication he'd been on was making him delirious. "Edward, which part of 'I like you more than I should' have you missed?"

"I just… assumed you'd want to… I don't know, see me less, I guess. For a while."

"It's probably safer," I admitted reluctantly. "I can't do this knowing Jacob doesn't know anything. It isn't fair."

"I agree."

"I just need to think of a way to break this to him. Until I do, maybe it's best we don't see each other as often."

"Yeah, I know."

There was a long pause, one which I'd felt obliged to break. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

I wasn't sure to which of the smaller, subtler questions he was replying. I just hoped it was true. My throat felt tight, as if with tears. "Still friends?"

I wondered if hearing the question was as painful as uttering it. It was a moment before he replied. "Still friends." I was about to say goodnight, when he spoke again. "And Bella?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry."

It was the only moment I regretted he wasn't there to see the smile that curled on my lips. "I'm not."