I love you all for the reviews, adds, and all the crazy talk/rec's. I was serious last update when I said I wanted to do something inappropriate like grabbing and hugging each and every one of you. JS
Thank you to my awesome beta, Stratan, for being your usual awesome self and making me feel ok about this chapter (without even knowing you did it). I was really fucking nervous about it, dude. You have no idea.
Thank you to stephk0525 and claireoth for pre-reading. I miss you guys. Stupid RL...
Chapter 12
Edward
"There's... There's this girl," I started, bringing up a hand to pull at my hair. I'd looked out the window for over thirty minutes, just trying to figure out where to begin; there was so damned much to sort through.
Seattle was dreary and unseasonably cool today. Fog hung heavy in the air and limited the visibility from the high rise my new therapist's office was in. Not that I'd expected anything more, really. God forbid the weather be nice for my trip here. Instead, it matched my mood perfectly. Gray and surly and plain pissed off. I fucking hated that I was here, that I needed this. But I wasn't stupid enough to ditch the appointment and stay back home in Forks. I couldn't keep up with everything on my own. Not anymore.
And Bella… There was a reason why I was so relaxed around her, why I was happy with her when no one else—other than my family, and even that was limited—had ever managed to make me feel that way. I'd pushed girls away for so long now, uninterested in any of them, until Bella. With Bella, there was no indifference, no disgust with myself when I touched her. I wanted her... needed her.
So it seemed fitting that she was where I would begin.
"Oh?" I heard Dr. Banner's pen scratching against the paper and closed my eyes. I hated that sound, too, and how it typically meant someone was analyzing my every word and movement. "How long have you known her?"
"A month."
Silence. He wanted me to elaborate on my own.
"She moved back in with her father, and is going to UW in the fall."
Rustling of paper. "That's where you go, isn't it? You start med school in August?"
I swallowed hard. "Yeah. I'd eventually like to be a cardiothoracic surgeon."
"So tell me about this girl," he instructed, getting back to the original topic. Which was good since I wasn't entirely ready to talk about my stay in the hospital. It was too closely connected to the reason I was homeless and shot to begin with.
"Uh…" I cleared my throat. "At first, I wanted to hate her. I did hate her."
"What for?"
"Nothing... Everything. The second I met her, I started-" I broke off before I forced myself to keep going. I wasn't going to be anything at all if I couldn't work past this. "I started dreaming more, thinking more."
"Of your past."
I tore my eyes away from the cars driving on the street below and glanced at him. "Yeah. About my biological mother, stuff I did or was made to do when- I don't know if it's because of her..." I shook my head. "No, it is. She makes me feel... That's just it. I didn't realize it until now, but I've been dead for such a long time. She makes me feel again."
His dark eyes brightened with curiosity at my little epiphany.
Well, join the motherfucking club.
"Things I haven't felt in a long time, some I've never felt before. I don't know what it is about her, but... she makes me want to try to fix all my bullshit. And I'm scared that I can't. That I'll always be this..." I waved my hands around in an effort to find the words. When I couldn't I dropped them to my side. "I don't know."
"You only want to be better for her?"
"I didn't care enough before her," I hedged.
"That's not exactly healthy, Edward," he said mildly.
I glared at him. His eyes never left mine, calm and nonchalant, almost as if he knew what I was doing. And fuck, of course he did. He was a highly recommended colleague of my father's, and probably knew every way I would try to deflect certain questions.
I needed a goddamned cigarette. Or maybe Bella. This kind of shit made me feel uncomfortable, at best. Nervous. Angry. Fucking pathetic.
"You don't think I know that?" I snapped at him. "I want to deserve her, what she gives me. I want... She's the first girl I've really ever kissed without... The first girl I've genuinely been attracted to since I was learning firsthand what a fucking hard on was."
Unaffected by my reaction, he reached up and adjusted his red tie. "And?"
"And... Fuck, I don't know," I said again. "I'm going to fuck her up. Just like everyone in my family fucks the people they love up." Myself included.
He flipped through my file and mumbled some sort of unintelligible acknowledgement. "You aren't them."
"That's what she says."
"Well, maybe you should listen to her."
"Maybe."
I walked over to the bookshelf and perused the titles. Jesus, they looked boring as fuck. It was official: psych was definitely not my field of interest. Although, I was in no position to tell anyone how to live their lives anyway. Could you imagine? The man who couldn't stand to touch people trying to advise clients on how to deal with their shit?
Comical, really.
"I keep thinking that if I let her in and see more of me-"
"More?"
"She knows things even my family doesn't. It's like I can't stop myself from telling her shit sometimes."
"Telling her things about yourself doesn't change how she thinks of you," he commented knowingly.
Fucker.
"No, she accepts it all." So far.
"So then back to what you were saying before. If you give her more of yourself..."
"One day she'll see how worthless I really am."
More scribbling.
"You're not worthless," he murmured. "You have a lot to offer someone."
"On paper," I scoffed.
"Not only on paper. You have a lot of great attributes, Edward. You're loyal, protective, kind, caring, intelligent… We just need to get you to realize it."
I didn't reply. I couldn't. The desire to argue that point was too strong. Even if I were any of those things, the bad parts of me far outweighed the good. So I simply gritted my teeth together and stood there.
Because I refused to sit in that fucking chair.
"She sees them, doesn't she?" he asked after a while.
"What?"
"The girl... What's her name, by the way?"
"Bella," I sighed, watching him make note of it. "And yes, she's beautiful, just like her name suggests. My dick has severe behavioral issues around her."
That earned a chuckle. I blinked in surprise. This guy... He didn't treat me like all of the others did, like a science project. He prodded me, yes, but it wasn't like he demanded I answer him. I probably could have stood here the entire session, and he wouldn't have uttered a complaint. It was weird. Kind of nice.
Maybe weekly sessions with him wouldn't be so bad.
"Is that so?"
"Unfortunately."
"Bella sees the good in you, doesn't she?"
"Well, she's not running away screaming in the night," I mumbled dryly. "I mean, it's the opposite, really. I treat her like shit, but she always forgives me. I don't get it."
He wrote that down. I wasn't sure why. "Maybe she forgives you because she understands that this is new for you, and that you're learning. I suspect she's learning some, too."
I dragged my hands through my hair again and snorted. "To say the least."
"How do you mean?"
"She uh, she has health issues," I answered vaguely. I wasn't about to share Bella's past with this man. "She didn't get out much."
"I see. Do you love her? Or think that maybe she loves you?"
My eyes went wide. Holy-
"I told you, it's only been a month, damn it."
"It's been known to happen in less time for some people."
"I uh, I mean… I don't… I um…" I couldn't form a sentence anymore, couldn't breathe.
Love wasn't meant for people like me. I'd done nothing in my life to deserve it, and had no idea how to reciprocate that emotion fully. I couldn't stand thinking that Bella would fall for some piece of shit like me, when there were so many other normal guys out there for her instead.
But I couldn't stand the thought of her with anyone else, either. Trying to envision her walking through the streets of Forks with some faceless man… hurt. I wanted to be the one walking with her. Always. And I didn't know exactly what that meant.
"Let me rephrase that," he said, seeing my obvious distress at his question. "Do you think you could love her?"
"No, I mean... I don't know how. I look at my parents and get fucking confused. No matter how hard I try, I can't wrap my head around some of the shit they do and why. And I… I shouldn't. I'm not… I don't- Fuck, what I mean is-" My hands involuntarily ran over my arms, fingers scratched at my jaw.
Dr. Banner watched my reaction closely for a moment, and then held his hand up to gain my attention again. "So what do you want to get out of these sessions?"
I exhaled loudly. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was a little sweaty. Christ, I'd panicked. Allowing myself to think of Bella feeling that way toward me had me instinctively wanting to drive her away again.
But that contradicted the fact that I wanted to be with her.
Yeah, I was definitely fucked up.
"Uh, normality?" I answered, cocking my brow at the dumbass. "To not act like this?"
"That's unattainable."
What the fuck? "Why's that?"
"Normal is purely subjective."
I grumbled a little.
"It's whatever you feel healthiest at," he continued. "And I think that, with time, we can get you there."
"What makes you so sure?" I shot back skeptically.
"You're willing now. Before, you weren't."
I merely nodded. There was no denying the truth in that.
"I'm going to need you to tell me every reason why you think you're 'fucked up'. Details. Recounts. Everything, Edward."
My stomach lurched. There was no way I was saying some of this out loud to a stranger. Not yet. "Look it up in my file," I said through my teeth.
He shook his head. "No. I need you to admit it." He reached over and pulled an empty pad of paper and a pen off of his desk. "If you can't say it, write it."
"Seriously?"
"Seriously," he confirmed, glancing up at the clock. "Writing can be therapeutic."
I thought of the journal Bella kept plastered against her chest. How happy she was, for the most part. She sure as hell was in a better place than I was.
Maybe Dr. Banner was on to something.
"You have fifteen minutes before your session ends. I suggest you get to it."
I grudgingly fell into the chair and took the pen and paper from him. I nearly put the pen in my mouth to chew on it anxiously while I gathered my thoughts, and then I remembered that it wasn't my pen and I didn't know how many other people had put their hands on it.
My lip curled in disgust.
So I simply took a steadying breath and started listing off everything in my life that made me less than desirable to the opposite sex. The list was long, and my hand shook as I ticked off things about my absent father, Elizabeth and my life with her: her drug use, the neglect, the…
I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat. I had nothing left to share but one thing, the one thing I'd blocked out for so long.
The day Elizabeth Masen had sent me to work for Aro Grayson to pay off a debt, changing the locks on me as soon as I was out of sight. The reason I was shot those few months later. The things I did, what I kept from Bella—from everyone—because it was… I was…
"Edward, you're hyperventilating. Calm down."
I gasped for breath, and blindly wrote it all on that sheet of paper. The second I was finished, I threw the notebook at Dr. Banner and stood up to pace the room.
The room seemed fucking tiny, like it was closing in on me with every pass across the floor I made. I felt trapped, surrounded by memories of everything I'd buried down so deep and refused to deal with.
I was going to be sick. I could feel it churning in the pit of my stomach. I tried to remind myself of where I was now, who I was now. I wasn't that naïve kid anymore. I didn't stare out a broken window wondering when Elizabeth would finally come save me. I wasn't forced to push drugs. To find ways to survive. To… to…
"Bathroom," I ground out.
"Down the hall and to the right."
I gave Dr. Banner a terse nod and darted out of the room, shoving past the receptionist and barreling into the bathroom just a few steps away. I stood there and stared down at the toilet, wanting to grip onto its bowl so tightly that my knuckles turned white, that it hurt. Physical pain would be a distraction from-
Breathe.
I closed my eyes and tried to do just that. In. Out. In. Out. Over and over again until I could open my eyes and focus on my surroundings again. My vision was blurry, and I swayed a little as I went to the sink. I splashed cold water on my face, unable to look at my reflection in the mirror for fear of truly getting sick, and then scrubbed my hands clean before I stumbled my way back out of the bathroom. It was all I could do. I couldn't erase a thing. Not with a shower, not with all the soap in the world. This was me, infected with filth. Broken from others' cruelty.
I was a fool to think I could ever be anything more for Bella.
Dr. Banner was waiting in the hall for me. "Edward, I didn't realize you weren't-"
"I didn't throw up. An improvement," I mumbled. I shoved my hands through my hair and drew in a loud breath. "I'm going to go home now."
"I think you should stick around for a while. I'm not sure you should drive like this," he argued.
"No, I need to go the fuck home," I said angrily. I needed the reassurance of my family, to see their faces and know that I wasn't stuck in that nightmare anymore.
He held up his hands in surrender with the look on my face. "Okay. If you think it's best. Just drive safely. You have my number if you need it."
"Yeah." I strode toward the door, very nearly ready to beat through the fucker to get some fresh air. "Same time next week?" I called out over my shoulder.
His jaw slackened slightly. "Uh, yeah. Yes, that would be good. I'll have Karen put you on the schedule."
I nodded once and pushed open the door.
I was more determined to get over this shit than I ever was before. If it was the last thing I did I would not let that bastard affect me anymore. I'd learn to be a decent human being for Carlisle. Esme. Jasper. Rose. Emmett…
And maybe, finally, even myself.
"What the hell kind of pizza is that?" Emmett questioned, looking down at the small pizza Bella had ordered for herself as the waitress placed it in front of her.
"What I ordered… Veggie on thin crust." Emmett gave her a look. "What? I like it. It's good."
"It's... a cracker," he replied, horrified. "A cracker with cheese."
"It is not," she argued, rolling her eyes. "Besides, it's better than all that grease you have on yours." She snatched a napkin out of the dispenser and blotted a piece of Emmett's pizza, holding it up with a triumphant grin when an orange circle formed on it. "See?"
"Really?" He cocked his brow in challenge. "That tasteless cardboard is better than this?"
She looked like she wanted to object, but let out a little pout instead. Jesus, the sound went straight to my-
"No," she said longingly. "I miss regular pizza. So fucking much..."
I almost spit out my water with that. It sounded exactly like it had when she'd dreamed it.
She gave me a strange look. "What's with you?"
"Nothing. It's nothing." I coughed and cleared my throat. "You can technically still have pizza, Bella."
"Yeah, in moderation, I know," she answered. "I just can't bring myself to do it. I don't want anything... I can't risk..."
"Hey, I get it." She looked at me hopefully. "You of all people should know why I fucking get it."
She smiled and nodded.
Emmett grabbed the pitcher of beer and poured a glass for Rosalie and himself, glancing over at Bella. "I'd offer you some, but you're still just a baby."
She laughed. "I don't think I'd like it anyway. Not if its smell is any indication."
"You have no idea what you're saying," he said, flashing Bella a dimpled grin. "So stop talking, Liberty."
She dropped her pizza on her plate with a huff. "There's that Liberty Bell reference again. Are you ever going to tell me what it's about?"
The slice of pizza Emmett had in his hands stopped mid-air, and his eyes shifted to mine. I arched my brow at him and waited, even though it practically killed me.
Come on, fucker. Tell me why you keep calling her that.
He lowered the hand holding the pizza and nodded once. "Fine, fine. It's because of him."
I realized abruptly he was pointing at me. "What the fuck? Me? Why?"
"Don't act so surprised. You think we don't all see the change in you since she got here? You're... shit, man, you're slowly starting to enjoy yourself a little. Letting yourself out of that damned prison of yours. Hence 'Liberty'. 'Bell' just because she's Bella, and it's the name of a national monument, so it already sounds good."
Bella and I sat there completely speechless, neither of us able to look at anything other than Emmett. I had no idea what was going through Bella's head, and I didn't think I wanted to. I could almost guarantee she was blushing next to me, and that made me...
Hard. Fuck. What was wrong with me today?
I knew everyone was aware that I liked her, but I was sure I hadn't let anyone see how she was... changing me. Only they'd all seen it from the very beginning. Every last one of them. Even my mother.
I felt like a fucking dumbass now for even trying.
"It's stupid, I know," he continued, oblivious to what was going through my head. "But whatever. It slipped out and now you know why. I can't help but think of her that way."
"I like it," Jasper said through a mouthful of pizza. "It describes what I was trying to tell her a couple of weeks ago."
Motherfucker... I fought back the urge to drive my fist through his mouth. "Why the fuck are you talking to Bella like that?" I demanded loud enough that Bella flinched.
Jasper stopped chewing. "Because you're my brother," he said slowly, "and you like her. That right there means I have to try to get to know her. Even if I didn't like her. Which I do."
I sat there stupidly again.
"She's awesome. You have great taste. Yada, yada, yada... Can we move on now?" he asked, his lips quirking.
"Ah..." Another throat clear. Jasper approved. They all approved. It made the fact that I was sort of with Bella so much... realer.
Holy shit.
"Yeah," I croaked.
"Here. You look like you could use this," Emmett laughed and poured beer into the last empty glass.
I stared down at it and shook my head. "No, it's... I-" I'd had enough beer when Bella first arrived to last me years. And with everything going through my mind right now... It wasn't worth it. "I have water."
But fuck, it sounded good. Pizza and beer... I glanced around the room and saw a lot of other people eating and drinking just that. It was one more piece of normal I'd never have, and I fucking despised Elizabeth a little more for it.
"Edward, it's just a beer," Bella reminded me gently. "It doesn't mean anything unless you let it."
I glared at her. "You know I hate it when you do that," I growled. But I wasn't really angry. Not this time. To be honest, I was beginning to realize how much I enjoyed the fact that she could read me that way.
"You'll get over it," she teased. "Now drink."
She leaned forward and stared at me expectantly. She wasn't letting it go until I actually took a drink.
I huffed, "All right, fine. I will drink this beer if you eat a piece of Emmett's greasy pizza."
She pushed away from me slightly. "What?"
"You heard me, Bella. Pizza for beer. Deal?"
She pursed her lips unhappily. "I didn't think that through, did I?"
"Not at all."
"Damn."
"You want me to get over my shit then you're going to have to get over yours too." I grabbed the beer and held it up. "Ready when you are."
She grumbled and picked up a slice, glowering at me the entire time. "Happy?"
I shrugged. I actually was, because it meant I didn't have to take the plunge alone.
Not that I'd tell any of them that.
She looked at the slice for a while before finally sliding the pizza in her mouth and taking a large bite. "Holy fuck, this is good," she moaned, her eyes rolling back as she chewed.
Unthinkingly, I let one side of my lips curve up with her reaction, and then took a sip of my beer. If I hadn't trained myself to keep my emotions in check, I might've done the same thing. It was cold and smooth, tasting completely different without all the negative emotions affecting it.
I'd been missing out. For so long.
"There, see!" Emmett bellowed. A few people at the tables surrounding us jumped in surprise. "Exactly what we were talking about."
I took another pull from my glass and swallowed hastily. "What is?"
I didn't get an answer.
My eyes darted back over to my family, catching every last one of their smirks, and a flush crept up into my cheeks.
My smile. Busted.
"Son of a bitch," I muttered, feeling my face heat further.
"Look how cute he is when he's embarrassed." Emmett reached out and pinched my cheek just to deliberately annoy me some more.
I immediately shoved his hand away with a growl, expecting that residual panic to swell inside me at any given second. "Get off me, you ass."
Only it didn't. And I never had time to think about it because I was too busy listening to my siblings give me hell.
Rosalie leaned forward, grinning widely. "You're cute when you smile. No wonder Bella likes you."
Jasper was next, waggling his eyebrows and making some kind of comment under his breath to Bella.
She giggled, the traitor.
"Fuck you," I snarled, pushing my plate away from me and very nearly toppling my chair over as I got up. "All of you."
"Well, it was good while it lasted," Jasper sighed.
I turned to head outside, only to stop when Bella's small hand was suddenly clasped around my wrist.
I glanced down at her with a scowl.
"Don't make me call you out in front of all these people."
I stiffened and glared down at her, thinking seriously about yanking my arm away from her. But I didn't want to hurt her, so I stayed still.
"You're being ridiculous." She pulled at my arm. "Sit down and get over yourself. They're just teasing you."
I opened my mouth to argue with her, but abruptly stopped myself and plopped back into the chair with an exhale that showed just how annoyed I was. She was probably right. She was always right.
I crossed my arms over my chest and stared down at the wooden table. I was being a petulant son of a bitch, but I didn't care.
Jasper leaned back in his chair and stretched. "So, Bella, when's Charlie going home?"
Bella reached over again, this time letting her hand rest on my forearm, not looking at me... not saying a word.
I managed to relax a little because of it.
"Tomorrow. I um..." She looked so uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I may need some time to-"
Emmett stopped her. "Take whatever you need. Maybe come in for a couple hours every day just to make sure the place doesn't fall apart while you're gone again, but spend most of your time getting Charlie settled."
"Really?" She asked, her eyes wide. "I mean, you're sure?"
"Yeah. Eddie can help out in your absence."
I growled under my breath. No way was I getting roped into all that paperwork.
"Nah, I've got it," Jasper said before I could protest. "I'm not doing much next week anyway."
Bella seemed close to tears. Shit, I could not stand it when she cried. It made my chest tighten uncomfortably, and I had no fucking idea how to make the situation better for either of us.
Another reason I should just let her go.
"Thank you, guys. Really. I don't... I need... Shit," she laughed. "I can't talk."
"She's all choked up," Rosalie joked. "How sweet."
Bella flipped her off, making the whole table laugh. Except for me. I watched everything from the outside in confusion, wondering when it was exactly that this girl had managed to become one of us.
We all eventually finished eating and headed out in different directions. Emmett and Rosalie went to their apartment, Jasper had planned to run a few errands in Port Angeles before coming home, and I was taking Bella back to the hospital before going to the house myself.
The second Bella and I got into my Volvo, the air thickened. Bella shifted; the edge of her shirt rolled up to reveal a tiny sliver of skin, and my body instantly reacted. It took every ounce of self-control I had to keep my eyes on the road so that I didn't drive us straight into a building along the way.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I jumped a little with the sensation and hurriedly wrenched it out. I read the text message and sighed, glancing over at Bella a little reluctantly.
"I have to run home and get something for my dad. He um," I coughed ridiculously, like clearing the shit out of my throat would ever really help the situation in my jeans, "he needs a journal he left in his office."
She nodded once and stared out the window, squirming as some thought passed through her mind.
Fuck me.
Wrong choice of words. That only made me think harder about getting into this girl, which was then further perverted by my desperate mind. I wondered if this could be considered a form of torture, payback for all the shit I'd done as a teenager. I ached. I burned. I was suffocating in my need for her. Slowly dying by way of abstinence, because God help us if I actually laid my hands on her.
How fucked up was that.
The drive was brutally long, and I inwardly cursed my parents for needing so much land out in the middle of bum-fucked-nowhere Washington. By the time I pulled the Volvo into the garage, I was ready to run as far away as I could get, as fast as humanly possible. I was so out of sorts and rushed that I didn't see Bella get out and come with me into the house, didn't see how close she was when I remembered her presence and turned around to be somewhat hospitable.
So it was only expected that I slam into her and send her Diet Coke spraying out all over us and the kitchen floor.
I didn't say a word. I simply closed my eyes, inhaled deeply so I didn't scream obscenities at her, and started grabbing what I needed to clean it up. I spun around, Windex in hand, and was stopped by the look on Bella's face. She was entertained with me. Incredibly so. She was also soaked, distracting me from the anger that flared inside me. Brown liquid had drenched pieces of her hair and seeped into the fabric of her gray top, making it cling to her in a way that had me kissing her again. It always happened so quickly and unexpectedly. One second I was standing in front of her, pissed off over something I didn't understand, and the next my mouth was on hers. There was never any conscious thought of wanting it. I was simply driven to do it. Knowing I probably wouldn't see her much in the next couple of weeks thanks to the chief's heart attack didn't help matters either.
My hands found their way under her wet shirt—not to cop a feel, although, that was a huge part of what was going through my mind at that moment—to feel the line of her scar again. Nothing compared to that feeling, to know that she'd survived something so heavy. She was the personification of that hope I felt at times and was slowly giving me a reason to believe in it again.
And that eventually, I'd find my own acceptance.
She shivered against me, bringing me back to reality. "Let me get you something to change in," I murmured.
"But I'm not cold," she argued softly.
I blinked down at her as I turned that over in my head. It'd been me that had made her shiver. Not half a can of soda on her tits. My touch. My kiss.
Fuck, I liked that.
"I'm still getting something dry for you."
She rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips. I wiped up our mess, and then led her to my bedroom. Trepidation lanced through me as we walked through the door. I'd never had a girl in my bedroom before. The fact that it was Bella made things even more difficult. My eyes kept drifting over to the bed, envisioning scenes where she was spread out for me. Naked. Panting. Wet. Wanting.
A shirt, I reminded myself, rushing over to the chest of drawers. Seeing her in my clothes probably wasn't going to help much today, but it was the lesser of the evils.
And I'd take everything I could get right now.
I turned around to see her examining the wall of CDs and records I'd collected since I'd come to live with Carlisle and Esme. Her fingers dragged over their edges lightly as she walked closer to me.
"You weren't kidding about the music," she said lowly. Her eyes found mine, and the air left my lungs.
I sucked in a loud breath and ran my hand over my hair. "Uh, no. I- Here," I said, thrusting the t-shirt at her. "Bathroom's right there."
"Thanks." She made no attempt to change, and I thought I'd go mad trying not to openly stare at her chest.
"Do you play anything?"
"Not well…"
Her responding stare was disbelieving. "What exactly is it that you don't play well, Edward?"
I shifted awkwardly. "I picked up guitar a while back…But I play the piano, mostly."
Something flashed in her eyes. She looked a little sick with it. But before I could say anything, she had glanced back at the records. "So do you have a piano?"
"Downstairs, yeah." I paused, debating on whether or not I should continue. "I… I actually used to go into random music stores in Chicago and fiddle with the baby grands on the showroom floors. I taught myself how to play that way… I didn't think I'd ever own one."
"And now you do," she said thickly.
Something was off. "Bella-"
"The Beatles?" she asked suddenly.
I nodded. Then remembered she wasn't looking directly at me. I went to say something but caught her humming "I Am the Walrus" and stopped short. Her voice was beautiful.
"I like all the psychedelic stuff the best," she said, stopping the tune just long enough to speak.
"Oh, really?" I squeaked.
She smiled over at me and kept humming.
"Favorite album?" she finally asked.
"Uh, I'm… It's…" I shook my head. "It's fucking cliché."
"The White Album," she answered knowingly.
"Yeah."
"Don't worry. It's mine, too." She pulled it out and carefully ran her fingers over the cover. "I always wondered what getting high with that guru guy of theirs in India was like."
I coughed in surprise. How the hell did this girl know so much about… well, everything?
She answered my unspoken question, "I read a lot in the hospital. Anything I could get my hands on interested me. Even boring medical textbooks. I could probably recite my heart transplant step-by-step."
"Really?"
"But I don't want to. It makes everything…" She sighed heavily. "Anyway, I was always too chickenshit to try anything like that. And now I can't, so it doesn't really matter, does it?"
"You're not missing out on anything. Trust me," I muttered. I may have already admitted this to her, but I was still uncomfortable as hell talking about it.
She eyed me carefully, and then nodded, slipping the album back in place. "I'll go change."
She reached the bathroom door and spun around, opening her mouth a couple of times before finally getting the courage to say, "Your room… It… suits you."
She darted through the door and closed it gently behind her before I could say anything back. I looked around my room now that she was gone and realized just how empty it felt without her in it.
