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A Lack of Color - Death Cab for Cutie

It's cool in Seattle, crisp, the sky a glowing grey of a rainy night over city lights.

Seconds after Tan and I emerge from the terminal, Lauren pulls up to the curb, waving wildly to get our attention. She yanks the car into park and jumps out, spouting off about our wicked tans. I can't help but smile. It feels really, really good to be home. As amazing as Florida was, it's over, and the sooner I can get back to my real life, the better.

But a niggling voice in my head reminds me that concepts like "real" and "normal" are indeterminate. For one thing, my home life will never be the same in the wake of discovering Daddy's possibly nefarious second life.

And for another, while it took me mere days to fall in love with the boy on the beach, it'll take much, much longer to fall out of it.

So, nothing's normal, and I guess I'll just have to take my life one day at a time.

But Lauren's real, and she's here, and she's as much of a sister to me as Tanya. "You got bangs," I say, reaching out to touch her silky, light blonde hair. "Looks good."

"I was so sick of the other look," she huffs, slamming the trunk shut once our bags are inside. "My forehead's too big for that."

"I like your forehead."

"Shut up, Bella Marie," she practically sings. She's peppy for this time of night; I wonder if she hit up Starbucks on the way. "Tanya, get in the back. I need to talk to my girl."

"Hello-Lo. Thanks for the ride. And, screw you too," Tanya says breezily, sliding into the backseat. She's already on her phone anyway, jabbing rapidly at the keyboard.

Lauren adjusts the volume on the radio as we pull out into traffic, chatting a mile a minute about everything we've missed since we've been gone. Tanya joins in after awhile, but I just sit back and let the familiar lights and landscape welcome me home.

Walking into my bedroom for the first time in nearly three weeks is surreal.

It occurs to me that while everything here is the same, I'm different. And, so, nothing's the same. I look at the pictures on my wall, trace my fingers long their slightly curling edges. In the next couple of days I'll pull them carefully down, cataloging which will go into an album and which will decorate my dorm room. For now, though, I just look.

A group of crystals and clear, pretty gems dangle along my picture window. Tomorrow they'll shift as they hang, catching the quiet Seattle sunlight and popping it back onto the wall like prismatic confetti. I'll have to be sure I take those with me to my new dorm room. I hope they'll get good light there.

Unbidden, my mind returns to the sea glass in the bottom of my beach bag. Stomach in knots, I unzip one of my bags and turn it over on the bed, ignoring the sand that sprinkles out. The sea glass tumbles out eventually, blue and green like little fragments of the ocean. I pick the pieces up, turning them over in my hand. It's weird to be holding this here, so far away from the place, and the memories, I got it from.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I carry the sea glass to my window sill and rest it there. I'll get a jar for it later. For now, I just want to look at it.

Mail I got right before leaving clutters my desk, held partly down by books I was reading. I rifle through it all, remembering pre-vacation life as I do.

"Everything okay, Bella?"

I turn to Tanya, who's paused in the doorway. "Yeah. Just tired. It's been a really crazy few weeks."

"It has indeed," she says, arching an eyebrow. "You still miss that boy?"

She's being purposely light about it, and really...she's barely pushing, but it's more than I can handle. Tears burn my eyes, and I turn away. "Don't. Not right now."

She's quiet, but I sense her coming closer. Her arms wrap warmly around me, and she pushes her face against mine, cheek to cheek. "I know it hurts, babe. And I'm sorry." She kisses my nose before letting go, eyes shining brightly from unshed tears of her own. "I really am. I...I know you fell in love with him. I don't mean to downplay that."

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the floor. I remember being little and having lavender carpet. Lavender. I'd loved it. And then turning fourteen, and deciding pastels were babyish, and getting hardwood installed instead. Daddy has always, always provided. Even when it was more whimsy than necessity.

"But you know," she continues. "I think he fell in love with you, too. I don't think you saw the way he looked at you, Bella."

Unsure if this makes me feel better or worse, I sit stock still, listening intently. My mind works to conjure up the pictures Tanya describes, as if by seeing some sort of evidence, I can make myself believe what I want to.

Although, I have to wonder if my sister would be so generous with her opinion of Edward's affection if she knew my suspicions about the safe.

"I mean, I always caught him checking you out," she laughs quietly. "Because he wanted you. But besides that he looked at you like...he was fascinated by you." Sighing, she gives my shoulder a squeeze.

"It caught me off guard, I guess," I say. "He was the last thing I expected."

"That's always how it is," Tanya says, nodding.

"I just wish...I feel like I had no closure. And yet, if I had to do it all over again, I'd change nothing." Even as I say it, I can feel how true it is. Regardless of what I might know, and the painful implications of it, my feelings stand. I know they're irrational and stupid. But I can't just turn them off.

Not for the first time, I'm grateful that my classes at UW start soon.

Tanya clears her throat, moving toward the door. "Let's get pizza or something tonight. I'm too wiped out to do anything else."

"Me too," I agree, getting up. "Pizza sounds good."

Daddy calls in the morning, saying that he'll be in later in the night, and not to bother picking him up. He's got plenty of friends in the area, so I don't concern myself with it.

Meanwhile, Tan and I are in moving mode. I know I'll always have my childhood bedroom to come back to, and I find comfort in that as I pack up my life. Still, it's a sentimental task, and I find myself becoming wistful and nostalgic as I make my way through year's worth of stuff.

At one point I find a stack old CDs, mixes my friends and I made and traded in high school. There's even one from Jared Cameron, which is just weird. Listening to them brings me back to simpler times, and I'm grateful for that. As I pack my last box, I notice the sea glass again. I run downstairs to the kitchen, looking around for a decent jar. Sometimes we save them, depending. A single jam jar sits among the clutter of drinking glasses in one cabinet. I pluck it out and give it another rinse, making sure it's clean before putting my treasures into it. Then I pack that, as well as the crystals from the window, into a box layered with bubble wrap and tissue.

Tanya's room is strangely quiet. I look in on her, unsure if she's even home. Maybe she's sleeping.

But she's not. In the late afternoon light, she sits at her window, gazing out. I'm about to say something when I realize she's on the phone.

"I know," she whispers. "I miss you too. And I'm sorry."

Tyler, maybe? If it's him, I'm a little surprised, but perhaps I shouldn't be. I saw myself how well he and Tanya got along.

Heavy hearted, I back out and close the door silently before returning to my bedroom. I can't believe we went down to the beach looking for fun and good times, only to return with wounded hearts. I can't say we didn't have an amazing time, because we did. We just got way more than we bargained for, and I wonder how long it's going to take before we recover.

The next couple of days pass in hyper-speed.

Daddy and I help Tanya take her stuff to the new apartment, and then they help me move to my dorm. Within one week I'm living away from home. Despite the fact I'm only about twenty minutes away from where I grew up, sleeping in a different bed feels funky. The light in our dorm room comes in differently, although still brightly enough for my gems, and the building smells different. Not bad, just not the same.

Lauren and I are evenly matched when it comes to decorating and neatness. It's why we chose to live together without Alice, whose parents were able to get her a single. It's for the best. Her obsession with having an immaculate, clutter free environment is enough to break down even the sanest person. I adore her, and I have since seventh grade, but I can't live with her. She comes over all the time, anyway, or we go to her, and in some ways it's like always.

Classes start. I throw myself into my studies, determined not to be so swayed by my emotions. I keep feeling like I'm getting over him, like I'm moving on in my perfect new life, but then something catches me: a strain of a song, the scent of something on someone passing by me...and my heart clenches, reminding me.

Our first weekend on campus, I'm invited to a frat party by this kid in one of my classes. I bring both Lauren and Alice, and thanks to jello shots in every color of the rainbow, we manage to get wasted. At least, I do. My friends get suitably drunk before removing me from the premises and bringing me home. The next morning I'm hungover and cranky, and I realize that I'm even more depressed than I thought I was.

Depressed and pathetic.

The front door opens and closes. Lauren strides in with Alice right behind, cups of coffee and brown paper bags in hand. I sit up, watching Alice procure a bagel. "Here," she says, thrusting it, and one of the cups, into my hands. "Good to see you in the land of the living."

"Thanks," I mumble, trying to ignore my rolling stomach.

"I'm still a little surprised you got so drunk," she says, smirking. "I mean, usually you pace yourself."

She's teasing the way we always do, but I'm not feeling it today. I'm surprised I got that drunk, too. I mean, I party...but I've never been the type to act up in public. Tanya, maybe, but not me.

Slightly nauseated, I sip gingerly at the hot liquid, pleasantly surprised to discover that it's actually chai or something. "Mm, this is good. Thanks, Al."

"No worries." She unwraps her bagel and takes a little bite, humming quietly as she eats. Lauren plops down onto her bed, eyeing me. "So...you almost kissed that guy...actually he almost kissed you."

"What? Which guy?" I grimace as hazy memories of the night before float to the surface. It gives me a sinking feeling inside.

"You know, your frat friend? Ember?"

I roll my eyes. "Embry."

"Yeah. Well. I'm not too sure abut him, Bella. He knew you were hammered and he still tried to cop a feel."

"Really?" Frowning, I think about the cute, mellow guy from class. I guess you never can tell. "I don't know. Was it really that bad?"

The girls give me two versions of the same incredulous look. Alice puts her cup down. "Seriously?"

"Well, that's that, then. No more frat parties."

"We don't have to completely stop, I'm just saying be careful. I –"

"No, I know. I just..." God, I'm so tired. And so tired of being tired. "I didn't really want to go in the first place."

"So why'd we go, then?" Lauren sits criss cross apple sauce, chin balanced in her hands. It's a simple question, but it's her way of gently asking what's up.

I put my cup down and press my fingers to my eyes.

We went because of this misguided need for me to feel normal, like my life hadn't just been bulldozed by some kid whose face haunts my heart. I've wanted so badly to just move on – after all, that's most likely what he's done – but maybe it's too soon. Maybe I do need to allow myself time.

Lauren stays quiet, for once. She knows me really well, even better than Tanya. Over the years we've gotten good at reading one another's moods, so I'm sure she can tell something happened when I was gone.

I feel bad that I've been so evasive.

"I met a guy."

She nods slowly. "At the wedding?"

"At the beach." I fumble around my nightstand, looking for my phone. Ignoring recent messages and tweets, I open my photo folder and scroll to the first one of him. It's from the night he took me dancing. Biting my lip, I hand it over to Lauren. Alice leans over her shoulder, peeking at the screen.

Her blue eyes widen a little. "Um, wow. Who is he?"

It feels good to finally be talking about this. I smile a little at her reaction; she's always been more boy crazy than me, although I can't say I'm too far behind. "His name's Edward. We spent a lot of time together."

"I bet you did," Lauren says with a soft laugh. Shaking her head, she goes through the pictures, asking questions about each one.

At the beach.

That's outside his house.

He works there. Can you imagine? Working on the beach.

This cafe in downtown Miami. Maybe I'll show you one day.

His car.

His profile.

His smile.

His eyes.

The oddest combination of relief and heartbreak washes over me, and I lie down again, blinking back tears.

"And this?" Lauren holds out my phone again, showing me a picture of him sleeping. Our eyes meet, though, and when she sees that I'm crying she and Al both slide off her bed and join me on mine. "What happened, Bella? I don't know if I've ever seen you like this...did you give it up to him?"

"Yes," I cry, sobs wracking my body. It's been building for...for weeks. Since before I left. Since the very thought of leaving him caused me pain. Since our bittersweet last night, and since the confusion and betrayal the morning after.

"Babe," she whispers, face crumpling in sympathy. She puts my phone aside and curls up beside me, pushing my hair from my face. "Why didn't you say anything? This is a big deal!"

"I know, I know," I whisper, nodding. "I just, I miss him. A lot. And I'm stupid because I knew the whole time it wasn't going to last. I knew it. But I wanted him anyway."

"What about him?" Alice asks. "Do you think...he felt the same way?"

This is the million dollar question, isn't it? I squeeze my eyes shut. "I don't know. I thought maybe, but...I don't know."

"Have you spoken to him since you guys came back?"

"No."

Now Lauren frowns, confused. "Why not?"

Sitting up, I take a deep breath. I twist my hair into a bun, and I take a sip of tea. "If I tell you guys something, you have to promise not to tell anybody. Promise me."

"You don't even have to ask," Alice says, grabbing my hand. "Of course we'll keep your secret."

Heart pounding, I nod. "I think he might be the one who stole my Dad's money."

This is why I love these girls. Like Tanya, they're fiercely loyal and protective, but unlike her, they're not quite as emotional. Actually, that's that's putting it lightly: they're not as hot tempered. If I'd told my sister what I'd just told Alice and Lo, she might be on the next plane to Miami, plotting all the ways she could hunt down and kill Edward.

I'm hurt, and I'm starting to get angry, but I think I love him. And while maybe I should, I don't want him dead.

Lauren finishes off her coffee and sits back down on her bed. "Here's what I don't get. You said he was gone when you woke up, right?"

"Right."

"Did you give him the alarm code or something? How would he have gotten out?"

I nod sheepishly. "He, um...had to get something from his car. He saw me enter it into the keypad thing when we went downstairs."

"Fair enough," Alice says, nodding. "It's not like you knew you had reason to hide it from him."

Lauren sighs. "I'm surprised you guys weren't worried about getting caught, though, with Charlie and your two uncles were lurking around. That was kind of risky, just saying."

She's right, but it's not something I haven't considered. "No, I know. I guess...there was that barbeque. And everyone was up late, drinking, and when they came in I assumed they all passed out. I mean, it was dead quiet. For awhile. By the time he went out and came back in it was like two or three a.m."

"When do you think he took the money? And how the hell did he get into the safe? And why are you so sure it was him in the first place?"

"I woke up around eight or nine. I think we fell asleep around...four? I don't know. So, sometime between then. I have no idea how he got into the safe. Really. No idea." It's mind boggling just to consider. "And...I'm not sure it was him. But it feels like it was. For one thing, the timing. Who else could've been in the house during that time, and then gone?"

Lauren nods, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "True."

"He was always super secretive when we talked. Like, he'd tell me surface stuff about about his family and his past, but he never gave me details. I knew he was doing it, but at first I just thought it was because he was a player or something. And then I liked him too much to care. I just wanted to be with him."

"That makes sense," says Alice, the eternal optimist. "You spent time with him, I think it's safe to say you got a good reading on him."

"Yeah. And his note didn't help."

She smiles sadly. "Kind of romantic, though."

"No. Not when he's apologizing for either a fuck n' duck or burglarizing Uncle Marcus' house."

Lauren barks out a laugh, but her eyes are sad for me. "Damn, Bella."

"It's true."

"Maybe."

"Probably," I say, feeling the sureness of it all taking root within.

Talking it out, and with someone neutral like my best friends, has been good for me. I'm not naïve enough to imagine that this is it, and I'll be fine from here on out, but it's a start. Harboring these secrets – my addiction to Edward, my broken heart, my suspicions over the break-in – was killing me. I feel a tiny bit lighter.

"So Tanya doesn't know about all this, then?" Lauren asks.

"Not the stealing part, no."

"Yeah, don't tell her," she chuckles. "Maybe not ever."

"You don't have to tell me," I say. "She's crazy. Anyway, I think she's hung up over her own beach boy."

"Really?" Alice arches an eyebrow, grabbing a pillow to curl up with. "Do tell."

We gossip for awhile, stopping only to get dressed and go out for lunch.

It's the most normal day I've had in a while.

A week later, I pull into my parking space at school and hop out, shivering against the slight chill. A cold front is moving in, chasing away any remnants of summer. It's kind of sad, but I'm welcoming it, too. It's new, and God knows I need as much new as I can get.

I hurry inside, stopping to check the mail in the lobby. There's a postcard from Bree, sent from her honeymoon in Greece. A phone bill, a flyer from some pizza place, a letter from from my Great Aunt Maggie. Shoved behind all of that is a slip notifying me that I have a package at the front desk. I'm tempted to leave it til tomorrow, considering I have a lot of work to do, but I decide not to. Locking my box, I return to the front desk, distracted by thoughts of the English paper I need to work on tonight.

The girl working there accepts my notice and ID, then ducks down to retrieve my package. It's not huge, but definitely too big for my mailbox, which is probably why it got sent here. I thank the girl and head upstairs, wondering if Lo's home yet.

She's not, but there's a note on our door, scrawled across the little message board we share.

Study group at library. See you later.

Xo

Inside, I flick on the lights and toss my mail onto the bed. I change into my PJs, scarf down what's left of my chicken caesar salad from earlier, and settle down at my desk, ready to tackle my work. I'm right about to crack open my Philosophy text when the package on the bed catches my eye. Curiosity wins out, especially when I notice that other than my name and that of my dorm – Poplar Hall – there's no other information.

I open it, gasping when the contents spill onto my bed.

Hundred dollar bills.

Bundles and bundles of hundred dollar bills.

A Watched Pot - El Ten Eleven

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