Chapter 12
Between eighth and ninth grade
I'm not sure if Edward's still holding my hand on purpose or if he's too caught up in everything to think about it. Either way, I'm not complaining. We both sit on the floor in front of Esme and wait. Every so often, he touches her arm or shoulder to try waking her up. I get more worried every time nothing happens. Edward looks like he's about to lose it.
"So, uh, that guy seemed pretty nice, don'cha think?" I say, trying to distract him a little.
"I guess. I'm just hoping he keeps his promise not to tell anyone." Edward glances at me and frowns.
I know exactly what he's thinking.
"I'm so so sorry about talking to my friends. Please don't hate me forever," I beg. I want to cry just saying the words.
"I won't…I mean, I don't. I never did." His forehead scrunches up. "Yeah, I was mad, especially at first. I thought it was you who called. And then when Dad took us away…"
"Where did you go? I was so worried…"
Edward scowls. "Our church has a place in the woods we use as a retreat. No electricity or running water…it's like camping but with a lot of praying and Bible reading."
"But you were gone for three weeks…"
"Like I said, there was a lot of praying."
We laugh, and suddenly things are okay again. I let out a big sigh of relief. I have so many questions but don't want to make him more upset. Instead, I tell him a simple truth.
"I missed you."
He doesn't say anything right away; he just looks down at our joined hands. After a while, I feel all weird and self-conscious, and my palm starts to sweat. I need to wipe it off, but that would mean letting go. Besides, it looks like he's thinking really hard about something, and I don't want to break his concentration.
"Bella," he says at last, "even when I was really mad, I...I missed you, too."
Then he looks up at me, and my heart starts beating faster. I've always cared about Edward and liked him. But after he kissed me on the cheek last Christmas, I realized I like him more than just a friend. That feeling's been getting even stronger over the past six months. I want him to kiss me again—and not on the cheek this time.
His eyes seem to be getting bigger, and then I see it's because we're leaning toward each other. I hold my breath, and close my eyes, and move in even closer…
...until a sound startles us both.
Esme groans and raises a hand to her head. The moment's forgotten as Edward climbs off the floor to sit on the couch beside her.
"Mom? Can you hear me?"
She makes some more low sounds, and her eyes flutter open. I think she sort of looks like Sleeping Beauty waking up after all those years.
"Edward?"
It takes a few minutes for her to understand what happened. Edward has to explain more than once how she fell down the badly-lit stairs and hit her head. He tells her about the cut but doesn't mention the landscaping man. That's probably a good thing because she looks like she's going to pass out all over again when she realizes I'm in the house.
"What's she doing here?" she asks, her voice not much more than a whisper. "If your father finds out…"
"I needed help, and I was…I was scared about you." He seems ashamed to admit it, like he regrets not being tough enough or something crazy like that.
Esme's eyes get watery. She sits up slowly and puts her arms around her son.
"Thank you, honey. Thank you for taking care of me. You always do such a good job of that."
I can tell Edward's a little embarrassed by the praise, so I stick around just long enough to see her get up and walk okay. It's obvious she's nervous about me being there. And even though it's hard to let go of Edward's hand when I'm walking out his door, I'm also relieved to be going home. Based on their fear and the bruises I've seen, I imagine Mr. Masen's anger is a terrible thing.
I have no desire to see it for myself.
