Stephenie Meyer's Twilight, where it took four books, a kidnapping, an abandonment, a trip to Italy, a camping trip with a rumble, a wedding and a boat ride before there was any sexin'. Talk about building anticipation.
I've proofread this so any and all errors are mine alone, hopefully there are too many, my apologies if there are.
Chapter 13
"What is with you, you've been chewing on your thumb all day, it's disgusting."
For Emmett's Christmas gift, Rose is trying to quit smoking cigarettes. For a Christmas gift to the rest of us having to deal with Rose, I've been thinking about putting a nicotine patch on her ass to lessen our collective pains of her withdrawal.
"I have to go meet someone after school and I'm just nervous about it."
"What, like a college interview?" Rose asks, attacking a limp piece of celery,
"No, my boss's wife, Mrs. Cullen."
"Have you ever looked at Dr. Cullen?" Rose makes like she has chills running up her back and shoulders. "My mom and I saw him in PA the other day, fuck, he-is-hot," Rose says, going back to her baggie of raw vegetables.
I choke on my milk.
"What's your problem?" Rose asks, taking a piece of broccoli and dipping it into some hummus.
"Just, don't talk about him like that, I have to work in that office. Where's Emmett?" I'm desperate to change the topic.
"You don't think he's good looking? Emmett's in the library. It's hard to believe a 40 year old guy's chest can look so good in a polo shirt. I thought my mom was going to fall over herself."
"Thirty five," I say, looking around the cafe for Mike or Jessica or a pack of bison, maybe some space waste, anything to change the direction of this conversation.
"What's 35?"
Fat fucking mouth I have.
"Um, Dr. Cullen, he's 35," I try to briefly hold eye contact with Rose and not look like I'm carry a secret the size of the GNP of Bolivia.
"How do you know how old he is? Was he your secret lovah?" Rose teases while looking for something else in her lunch bag.
"Yeah, right," I mumble and internally vomit while I dig through my purse in a desperate search for a vial of hemlock.
Jess comes up and pulls a seat at our table.
"What're you guys talking about?" Jess asks taking her phone out of her pocket.
"I'm asking Bella why she knows how old Dr. Cullen is, she corrected me on his age," Rose says, raising an eyebrow while a dangerous smile worms across her face. She bites into a carrot with exaggerated flourish.
"Ohmygawd, that guy makes my mom all sorts of wrong. We saw him at the Apple Fest the other month and my mom, get this, right in front of me, asked what type of technique he uses when performing pelvic exams. I about fucking died. But then I figured if I would have dropped dead, my mom would have asked Dr. Cullen for mouth to mouth resuscitation on her, so you know, for my dad's sake, I didn't step into the light."
"That's hilarious, but not nearly as bad as my mom. Last summer my mom and I were at the tennis courts when Dr. Cullen came by, I don't know where Mrs. Cullen was," Rose says and I stop myself from saying she was probably performing cunnilingus. "Anyway, my mom, I swear to Christ, looks at his crotch then asked him if he needed any help with his balls. That little incident was at the top of my FML list for about four months."
"Uh, no, I had to type up, you know, stuff for him, in the office, that's how I know how old he is." Of note, that was the least slick move, ever.
My awkwardness is not lost on Rose or Jessica, they both look at me wondering if there's some type of medication for me.
"Anyway, I'm glad my mom lives at the opposite corner of the country, she'd be the worst." I'm desperately trying to recover. "Oh, doctor, I get these hot flashes, but only when you're around," my voice falsetto. "Dr. Cullen," I flutter my eyelashes, "Can you show me again how to examine my breasts?" This is actually kind of fun. "Dr. Cullen is that a stethoscope in your pants or are you just happy to see me?" I flip my hair over my shoulders.
They both laugh and move the conversation on to the upcoming winter break. I want to send Carlisle a text telling him he's a trending topic in the school cafe, but it's too dangerous and he'd probably be like, wtf do I care?
After lunch, my classes fly by until it's after school and I'm standing in front of the mirror trying to make myself look refined. Or at least less disheveled.
My eyeliner is smudged, and not on purpose but passable, and my hair looks like it does every other day, which is not necessarily a good thing.
"Hey, Bella," Jessica says walking in and going to the sink next to me.
"Hey, Jess," I turn to look at her, cocking my head. Jessica always looks good, boobs notwithstanding. Her hair is shiny and smooth; lip gloss never chewed off and her clothes are always trendy and wrinkle-free.
"Jess, can you do something with my hair? I have to go to this thing and this," I wave around my head, "is just not working."
She looks at me and rubs her index finger over her cheekbone.
"I can braid it," she says after a few moments, nodding her head.
We go to the auditorium and I take a seat while she stands in the row behind me having pulled out a pointy comb and a brush.
"I don't think people realize how much goes into being a hair stylist or a colorist. It's equal parts imagination and creativity with science and math. Plus, how many times a day are stylists put on the spot? Like probably for every appointment," she says as she sections out my hair. The drag of the comb across my scalp and her talking distracts me enough to a point of bordering on relaxation.
"Women and men go sit into that chair and asks the stylist what they think would look good, or in style. Or they want to look fabulous for something. Plus stylists have to have people skills, who wants to sit in a chair for 45 minutes with a pouty person cutting your hair?"
"Is that what you want to do?"
"What? Hair? I don't know, maybe, my grandma does hair and wigs. But she's always worked for someone else. If I do it, I want to have some type of business degree too. Own my own place, my own vision, you know what I mean? It's kind of something I kick around at night when I can't sleep, you know?"
At night I touch myself and think about Carlisle touching me.
"Okay, let me have the elastic," she reaches her hand over my shoulder. "I think this is good. Stand up so I can see how it looks in front."
I stand and she appraises my hair and the rest of my appearance.
"Yeah, it looks good. You want any help with your makeup?"
"Uh, no, I thought I looked alright?"
"Here," Jess reaches into the outside pocket on her book bag and hands me some lip balm with color in it. "It's just a little bit of plummy red, should look good with your skin tone.
I put some on and hand it back to her. 'Thanks Jess, this was a huge help."
"No prob, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Yeah, 'bye." I leave and get into my truck. I pull the rearview mirror down and look at my hair as best I can, it looks nice enough. My lips don't look like I'm trying too hard and the rest of me looks like I always do. I smooth my hands over my sweater and drive over to the Cullen's house. I'm there at 3:28, which gives me two minutes to get my shit in order.
I run my palms back and forth over my thighs. My heart is beating too hard, and not in a good, excited way either.
Whatever. I can do this.
I get out and walk to their front door. There's a red berry wreath set inside a pine one, it's real and smells of good taste, cocktail hours and parties that provide coat rooms instead of your parents' bed. I reach and ring the doorbell.
I hear unhurried feet descend the stairs before the door is opened.
"Bella, how nice you're here on time," Esme says like I'm afflicted with chronic tardiness. "Please, come in," she steps back for me to enter. I'm thinking she's dying a little bit to have to open her home to me.
"You can hang your coat there, if you'd like. Can I get you anything to drink? I have coffee brewed."
"Mm, no, I'm fine, thank you."
"Have a seat in the living room," she gestures and comes back with a glass of water for me and a cup of coffee for her.
She settles herself in, gives me an automatic, closed mouth smile and turns her head for a moment before facing me.
"It's been an interesting couple of weeks," now she smiles almost genuinely.
"How is your sister," I shake my head, "cousin?"
"Char's better. Well, no, she's getting better. She has a little problem with," Esme drops her voice like the room is filled with Hedda Hoppers and mouths the word, pills.
"Oh," I fidget for something to do with my hands before leaning forward for the glass of water.
"I didn't know how bad it had become. She's always been a party girl," Esme is unfocused, her eyes brows raised in a moment to herself. "We would sneak cigarettes when we were 15 and thought we were the height of cosmopolitan, and the thing of it was that we were," she laughs dryly.
"Char has a daughter," Esme tells me while watching my reaction.
"Oh," I say and wonder where this conversation is heading.
"Yes, Alice. Precocious. It's unnerving, really." I watch as Esme's index finger rubs back and forth over the cuticle of her thumb. I know that gesture; it's nervousness, although on her it looks contemplative and thoughtful.
"Where is she now?" I ask slowly.
Esme returns her focus. "She's upstairs. I won't says she's a pitiful child, but she's not young at all with her big, doleful eyes, and perfect posture." Esme lets out one laugh. "She loves documentaries."
I furrow my brow and have a questioning smile on my face. "How old is she?" I'm thinking maybe she's 12 or something.
"Five. She told me in confidence that when she grows up she will marry Ken Burns." Alice's breached confidence notwithstanding, Esme now looks concerned. Concern is not something Esme carries well. "She's never had a sustained father figure." Her candor surprises me.
"She watched his baseball documentary last year and spent three months telling her mother she was 'out' or, 'safe' or if it was a 'homerun' or a 'balk'. Poor Char when Alice said she was a Yankee fan. We, of course, were all weaned on the Red Sox. They were living in New York until a few weeks ago," she says in some type explanation.
I laugh out of politeness, not following baseball enough to know if this is really all that funny.
Esme takes a sip of her coffee.
"How do you feel about children, Bella?"
The racing of my heart is back at the abruptness of such a personal question.
"I'm sorry, that was rude," my discomfort is not lost on Esme and I wonder if this was a test. "Let me back up," her tone is all business. "Char will be away for an indeterminate amount of time. She's left the country," Esme sighs, closes her eyes, and flaps her hand. "I disagreed, so of course I had to take Alice, which is fine. None of this is her fault," Esme says, surprising me with her quiet vehemence. "She's a sweet child once you can get past her," she pauses, waving her hand fluidly through the air, "eccentricities."
I sip my water and wonder where I come into all of this.
"Bella, I wanted Alice to attend school in Seattle, but for now, that won't be a possibility." She looks at me before continuing. "I'd like to arrange with you to babysit a couple of days a week, afterschool? Perhaps the occasional weekend night?"
I'm stunned and my response is less than composed. "Um, I," I trail off.
"I'm going about this poorly," she smiles condescendingly. "Why don't I introduce you to Alice, let you adjust to the idea and then decide from there? Why don't we try that?"
Esme's practically feeding me words probably due to the fact I'm acting completely dimwitted.
"Yeah, yeah, let's do that. Um, I'm sure…yeah, why don't I meet her," I halt and splutter.
"Good, I'm glad, let me invite her down. She's been watching Ken Burns' documentary on the Civil War, which is entirely inappropriate, but she completely pouts if I say 'no' and she hasn't had any nightmares, so," she waves her hand and tips her head to the side, "I just let her. My mother has told me to pick my battles."
Wise words coming from Esme's mom.
I sit and fidget while Esme's upstairs gathering Alice. When I hear them coming down the stairs I stand, smooth out my jeans, and step away from the couch.
"Bella, I'd like you to meet my niece, Miss Mary Alice Brandon. Alice, this is Bella Swan, she's a friend of," slight pause, "the family's." Well played Esme.
Esme gently moves Alice forward, whereupon, Alice daintily presents her hand for me to shake. I briefly look up to see amused delight sparkling from Esme's eyes.
The girl is tiny. Itty-bitty tiny. She looks fragile.
"It's a pleasure to meet you," Alice says as she takes my hand and shakes it.
Standing before me is this young child with two long braids wrapped intricately around her head like a crown which leads me to believe she has never had a haircut. She looks like a miniature porcelain painting from the 1700s. Pale with slightly blue-cast skin. Her eyes are nearly grey, or maybe closer to murky. I can't tell if I'm fascinated or frightened by her. She looks like a Diane Arbus photograph; disarming and out of place in the world.
"Jathsper wants me to ask you if that's your natural hair color."
"Who's Jasper?" Alice has a slight lisp, and I'm wondering if I missed some part of the conversation.
"Jasper is a Major in the Confederate Army," Esme explains, then mouths the word, imaginary.
"Oh, where is Jasper stationed?" I play along.
"Texasth, near the border of Mexico."
"I see. I hope he's safe."
"I don't have the heart to tell him the Confederates lost," Alice definitively tells me.
"It looks like you just did," I question her. I'm pleasantly charmed by Alice's forthrightness.
"I didn't, he just returned to his post. He said there were possible insthurgents threatening to cross."
This girl is five. Insurgents, the border of Mexico, The Civil War?
"Alice recently met Jasper, he keeps an eye out for her and is terribly protective of her as well," Esme tells me, any trace of amusement, gone.
Alice has conjured herself an imaginary protector.
Esme and I are probably thinking along the same lines and we're slightly startled when Alice changes topics.
"Mathew Brady gets all the credit for photographing the War Between the States, but he had several men working for him who did most of the dangerous pictures. He wasn't the only one who took photos of it."
I feel educationally insufficient next to this girl.
"I have to admit, Alice, I'm unfamiliar with Mathew Brady," I respond truthfully.
I've said the wrong thing. Alice has her hands on her hips and her mouth set in a hard line. She lets out an exasperated sigh and turns to Esme.
"Aunt Esthme, have my thuitcathes been unpacked?" Alice asks, clearly bothered by my stupidity. She says aunt, like she's holding back part of her throat muscles. I say aunt like a bug.
"No, not entirely, why don't you and Bella go upstairs and put your books on your shelves," Esme looks to me in question and I nod my head. "The two of you can get to know one another and you can teach her about what it was like with the mobile darkrooms on the battlefields and being in harm's way."
I don't want to wonder how much Alice knows about being in harm's way.
"So, Alice, what do you like being called, Alice or Mary or Mary Alice?" I ask once we're upstairs and unzipping her tweed suitcase filled with books.
"Alice," she responds dismissively. This isn't going all that well.
"Okay, so," I drag out, "tell me about Jasper. Does he," I begin and decide my best bet is not to talk down to her. "What is the Major's last name?"
Alice turns to me and her dull eyes begin to gain light and interest.
"Whitlock. Major Jathsper Whitlock."
"I like that name, Jasper," I smile at her and move to lean against her bed. She doesn't join me, but sits a few feet away, close to her books. She has her knee propped up and crossed over her other thigh. It's one of those sitting positions that fade sometime after the age of six or seven.
"Oh, yes, it's a family name," she responds, nodding her head. "My name is a family name. My great grandmummy was named Mary Alice," she tells me and I notice she's scooted forward slightly.
"Oh yeah? That's neat, both of you have family names. So tell me, where did you and the Major meet?"
Alice again scoots a little closer. "We met at the H&H on the upper west side. It's closed now so Jathsper had to come live with me when he's not being a tholdier." She nods her head earnestly.
I don't know what an H&H is so I move on with my questions.
"Is he tall?"
"Oh yes, he's very tall, taller than Uncle Carlisle, but he has blond hair like Uncle Carlisle and blue eyes too. But they don't look anything alike." She shakes her head.
"Well, that's a good thing, you wouldn't want to call your uncle, Jasper and Jasper, your uncle," I say, smiling.
She giggles. "That would be thilly."
I try not to smile at Alice's lisp.
"Show me the rest of your room," I gesture with my chin. "Are you having fun here?" I ask when she stands up and moves to the shelves across from her.
"It's fun. It's not New York; the trees are the size of giants in Aunt Esthme's backyard. There's no park around but Uncle Carlisle says we can make a tire thwing."
"Tire swings are so much fun, you should make your Uncle Carlisle push you on it a hundred times each day," I smile at her.
"But what if Uncle Carlisle's arms get tired with all that swing pushing? Would the good Major be able to step up and lend a hand?"
Carlisle is standing in the doorway and he looks beautiful in a crisp white shirt and navy blue suit, his tie loosened and the top button undone. His eyes are glowing with a different kind of mischievousness, it's sweet and light and fun. He looks young and I suddenly wonder why he and Esme don't have any children of their own.
"Well," Alice takes a deep breath and sighs. "I've told you before, Uncle Carlisle, he's very busthy, he can't always be around."
Carlisle lets out a quick sigh and looks at me. I know we're both echoing Alice's words in out minds, he can't always be around. I look at Alice again and she's going through her suitcase and has pulled out, The House on East 88th Street.
"Thank you Bella," he looks at me without any subtext. "Esme's downstairs if you'd like to speak with her." And he gives me a quick wink, dismissing me without dismissing me.
"Goodbye, Alice, it was really nice to meet you, I totally enjoyed myself," I tell her as I move out the door.
"'Bye, Bella, I hope to see you again thoon," she smiles at me before turning to Carlisle.
"Uncle Carlisle, do you know anything about digging latrines?"
"No, Alice, not in the least," he responds aridly.
I laugh as I walk down to meet Esme, who's waiting for me at the landing.
"She's a captivating girl, isn't she?"
I think about Esme's questioning statement.
"She is captivating and I'm sorry she has," I shrug and let my words trail off not wanting to say something offensive. "You know, had kind of a rough go of it," I finish.
Esme responds with a wry smile.
"I try not to dwell on it. I feel if you dwell on someone's struggles or weaknesses then you diminish his or her worth or the expectations of that person. I believe Alice has too much potential to have to accept our pity."
I stare at Esme and absorb her words.
"Yes," I nod my head. I stop myself from delving any deeper into interpersonal relationships with Esme, I'm afraid of what I might unearth. We move into the breakfast room off the kitchen.
"Will you be accepting the position I've offered you, or would you like to take a day or two to think it over?"
"Well, I'm pretty busy right now with my job at Newton's and at Dr. Cullen's office, but I can come by Mondays and Tuesdays or Wednesdays. Weekend's will be difficult until after the holidays, and during exams, but uh, yeah, we can work something out, I'd like that."
"Aren't you a busy woman, it's a wonder you have any time for extra curricular activities." Her smile is not friendly.
"Esme, if you're going to throw my extra curricular activities in my face every opportunity you get, then this won't work." My returning smile is not friendly either.
"Meow."
"We've been through this. I didn't initiate this little triangle. I'll set it aside when I'm with Alice, it won't be any type of issue. If that doesn't work for you, then none of this will work." I purse my lips and shake my head minutely.
Holy shit, did I just say all that? Holy shit.
Esme is silent for several moments and doesn't move her eyes from mine.
"Let's say Monday and Tuesdays. If you need to cancel either of those days I would appreciate a 24-hour notice. I understand your time is valuable, please respect mine as well."
"Of course," I answer coolly even though inside I shaking and tense at what I just said a few moments earlier.
"Do you want me to start tomorrow?" I ask.
"No, I expect three references and a history of your employment. Let's negotiate your salary."
Salary?
"Um," I start before I'm cut off.
"Bella," she says sternly, "starting a negotiation off with, 'Um', doesn't serve your purpose well. It makes you sound weak. Let's start again, shall we?"
"Yes," I respond as confidently as I can. I square my shoulders, sit up straight and decide what I want and need.
"Your salary?"
"Esme, I think you will find, once you check my three references that I am an exemplary employee who takes her responsibilities very seriously, well beyond my 18 years of age. Besides holding down two part-time jobs and serving on many school activities and councils, I help my father manage our household by cooking, cleaning and shopping. The going rate for someone my age should match the grade I'm in, which is the 12th grade. I believe $12 an hour is fair."
Holy fuck, I'm Norma Rae.
Esme gives me a satisfied smile.
"Very good, I think that's fair." She extends her hand and I shake it. "My uncle's a lawyer for the Teamster's, have you ever thought about a career in the legal profession?"
If my sweaty pits and weak knees are any indication, then, no, not a profession in law.
"No, I don't think so, I'm still waiting to hear what schools I get into anyway."
"Don't take it off the table, it's a rush, isn't it? To get what you want?" Another knowing smile before she continues. "Once you supply your references, email will be acceptable, I'll check them out, I imagine everything will be fine so from there, you can start next Monday."
"Fair enough," I reply nodding my head.
As we're finishing up, Carlisle enters the kitchen.
"Carlisle, did you pick up milk?" Esme asks.
"No," he replies shortly and Esme sighs.
"Will you? We're out and Alice needs some with dinner." Esme's tone is as brusque as Carlisle's and I'm uncomfortable and want to leave immediately.
"Of course. Bella, I'll walk you to your truck," he says.
"Um, sure, as long as we're done here, Esme?"
"Yes. I'll be speaking to you later this week if anything changes. Thank you, Bella, I think this will work and I hope you and Alice will be special friends."
I smile. "Thanks again, Esme, I look forward to this."
She just raises her eyebrows to me and goes into the kitchen to pull something from the freezer. I turn around and Carlisle puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me out to the driveway.
"Thank you, Bella," Carlisle says when we're at the door of my truck.
I look into his eyes and wonder how I ever ended up in his bed. He's so smooth and so handsome. I know somewhere in my brain I should be reconsidering my whole place within the Cullen culture.
"Um, no, thank you," I tell him, "I'm looking forward to getting to know Alice."
He smiles softly and moves his hand to tuck my wind blown hair behind my ear. I stop myself from leaning into his touch. That would be entirely inappropriate given the current reason for my visit here this afternoon.
"I'll see you at work then on Thursday," he says as I turn to open the door to my vehicle.
"Yes, Thursday, I'll see you then." I start to back away but not before I watch him walk to the garage. His suit fits him so well.
I take a deep breath and go home to tell Charlie of my new job.
X
A couple days later I'm sitting in the lunchroom with Jessica and Angela waiting for Rose to meet us.
When Rose enters the cafe she looks like she wants to grab a freshman to chew up and spit out just for an outlet of release. When she gets to the table she scrapes her chair back and slams her book bag down bending over to unzip it harshly.
This is more than Rose quitting smoking. Jessica and Angela look like they're ready to fortify themselves under the table in fear of an outburst from Rose. I, on the other hand, am sick of this. I close my eyes and count to 10 before entering Rose's unpleasantness bubble.
"What's going on?"
"What's going on? What's going on?" Rose sneers. "I'll tell you what the fuck is going on, stupid fucking Emmett putting rolling around on the floor with near naked guys ahead of us being boyfriend and girlfriend. That's what's fucking going on."
Dealing with Rose lately is like trying to figure out if the yellow wire should be snipped or the cyan wire; the wrong move and everything could blow and leave us all as horrible disfigured piles of flesh.
"You know what Rose, I get you're stressed and you're pissed Emmett is busy, but this whole acting like a cunt is really getting tired. I love you, but right now you're making it really hard for me to remember that fact." It was a bitch move not to be more supportive, but she really has become intolerable. Calling me up to complain, not listening to anything anyone has to say, it was like talking in circles with a political pundit.
Rose sulks for a couple of moments. I have to give her a way to vent positively.
"Alright," I respond slowly and quietly. "What happened?"
"It's stupid," Rose sits down, deflating. She bends over again to get her lunch before straightening back up and trying to get herself under control.
"What's stupid?" I ask after she sets the knife down from cutting up her apple.
"He has an away meet this weekend and we were going to meet afterwards and have dinner and go to the movies. Wrestling season is so long and we've barely seen each other, you know?" She widens her eyes to let me know she is referring to sex.
"Now he tells me there's an informal team dinner after and he wants to reschedule our date. We haven't had a date in forever. And he's acting like I'm not being supportive enough. I give up everything for him during the season and all I get is to be a convenient pussy to him when it fits into his schedule."
I glance over to Jessica and Angela. Jessica's attention is rapt while Angela looks like she wants to disappear, she's pulling at her braids and staring at her brown bagged lunch.
"Rose, I know you're stressed about Emmett and school and quitting smoking and stuff," I try to speak in a soothing voice. "Listen" I say excitedly coming up with an idea that might appeal to Rose. "What if we come up with something like a place of contentment? You know, like a series of thoughts to distract you when things get shitty and overwhelming?"
Rose is quiet for a few beats considering my offer.
"Yeah, I don't know," she responds without sounding convinced of anything. She fingers a slice of her apple.
"Okay, how about this, I'm gonna draw you a verbal picture, and see if that makes you, I don't know, relax, maybe?" I'm suddenly speaking like I know dick about chakras, crystals and chanting.
"Fine, whatever, give it a shot," she concedes.
I look around the lunchroom and try to think up something that would make Rose calm and happy, and less like a cunty snapping bitch.
I take a deep breath and start to speak in an even tone. I feel like a hostage negotiator or something.
"Close your eyes and picture what I'm saying," I instruct. "Think about Emmett–" Rose snorts. "No seriously, don't think about the things he does, just think about Emmett. Picture his beautiful eyes, and the light that fills them when he sees you first thing in the morning. You're hair all mussed from him running his fingers through it while you fell asleep." When Rose told me that's what Emmett does, I felt all tender and in love with him too. "And think about how whenever you get a good grade or find out some exciting news, he picks you up and spins you around because you're the only thing in his orbit."
She softens slightly. "That's true, he does do that," she pouts out her bottom lip.
"Or when you're talking to someone and he just comes up behind you and wraps his big, strong arms around your waist, kisses the side of you cheek not caring how many people see how in love he is with you."
I hear Jessica and Angela sigh quietly.
"And all the deliciously dirty stuff you two do together. How he likes to undress you, lay you down on any practically any surface, and spread you wide. Worshipping you, starting at your ankles, licking you, kissing you, and trailing soft caresses over you, until he gets to your promised land. The way his tongue teases you and tastes you, and how he slips a finger inside of you and takes his tongue to circle your hard clit in nothing more than his desire to please only you." Rose has given me very descriptive detail of Emmett's love of her vag.
"Mmm," Rose nearly moans. I glance over at Jessica and Angela and they both have their eyes closed.
"Go on," Angela whispers.
"Yeah, don't stop," Jess adds.
In hindsight, I probably should have done this outside of an audience and not in the middle of lunch in the cafe. I look around to see my three tablemates open their eyes and look anywhere but at each other.
We're saved when Emmett bounces up to our table.
"What's up lovely ladies?" Emmett asks while bending down to kiss Rose by her ear. I think he might have whispered something dirty to her by the way Rose nearly titters.
"Emmett, I need to show you something," Rose says hurriedly, grabbing her bag, leaving her apple and pulling Emmett behind her.
"I forgot I gotta go meet Mike in the room, over there," Jess says in her twitchy way, gathering her things and leaving.
"Yeah, me too, I have to ask Ben about some, um, biology homework," Angela explains as she pushes back from the table.
We took Biology sophomore year, she was in my class.
"That was really vivid, Bella," Angela says in her meek sort of way. She gives me a little wave before nearly pushing a small, blond kid out of her way towards the exit.
I'm left at the table alone and pick up a bite of Rose's forgotten apple.
x
On my work break on Saturday Rose calls me.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Nothing, what's up?"
"Since Emmett's busy, let's go to the movies in Port Angeles. We can get dinner, it'll be our girl date. I might even let you kiss me at the end of the night," Rose makes kissing sounds.
"Only if I can cop a feel of your tits," I tease and it's just then that Mike walks into the back room where I'm sitting.
"Can I come?" Mike asks.
"No, shut up, I'm on the phone with Rose," I say winking at him.
"Damn, a titty feel between you two would be so hot."
"What the fuck is he saying?" Rose asks, I can tell she's smiling on the other end enjoying the thought of tormenting Mike.
"He wants to watch me feel you up, baby," I add and lick my lips for Mike's benefit.
"You two are evil," Mike says throwing a napkin in my direction.
"Yeah, but it makes you hot, right?"
"Whatever. What are you guys doing tonight?"
"Going to the movies in PA."
"Oh, well be careful, there's supposed to be a freeze tonight."
"Yeah, we will, thanks Mike," I tell him and finish up on the phone with Rose telling her to meet me after work so we can go straight there.
Driving to Port Angeles, the weather's fine. Rose and I have dinner and check out a girly movie that Emmett would never go see with Rose.
"Why don't we do this more often?" Rose asks when we are driving back.
"'Cause you have a boyfriend. Regardless that I'm friends with both of you, I'm still a third wheel when it's just us hanging out."
"That sucks."
"It's the way of coupledoms," I shrug keeping my eyes on the road. It's slick and the temperature has dropped. If it weren't for the sturdiness and weight of my truck, this would be difficult to drive.
"So what's up with that guy who you gave your number to at Ben's party?"
"James? Nothing really, we've talked a couple of times, we just haven't been able to work out a chance to see each other."
We had talked twice. Once when I was at work at Dr. Cullen's office where I had to cut him off since personal calls are not tolerated. And once when I was making dinner for Charlie. Both times were rushed and not very interesting.
"Do you like him?"
"I don't know, I barely even know him, I haven't really formed an opinion of him yet."
"You should try. Maybe do something during the week if weekends are so hectic. Something afterschool."
I glance over at Rose and she's leaning against the door looking at me.
"What?" I ask her.
"I just don't want you to waste your senior year."
The truck's silent for a few minutes while I navigate the curves of the dark highway.
"I'm not wasting my senior year, I'm trying to get into school and be able to pay for it."
"Yeah, I get that, but you don't want to get to college and just go insane. Fucking every guy you come across just to make up for not doing that stuff this year. You're not stuck on Jake, are you?" She suddenly asks with palpable trepidation in her voice.
"Why are you asking me that? And no, I'm not."
She sighs audibly.
"You've heard, haven't you?"
"About Jake? Yeah, I was actually there in the doctor's office when they were there. His girlfriend was talking to Dr. Cullen about it in the hallway, he kept trying to get her to shut up and go into his office." I let out a single laugh.
"God, what a nightmare."
"Uh, yeah," I agree. "Dr. Cullen brought me into his office to get me under control." I think about the way he put his finger under my chin and told me I was okay. I bite my bottom lip and drag my teeth back wondering what Carlisle is doing right now.
"Shit," Rose says slowly.
"What," I ask looking around on the road for something bad.
"You like Dr. Cullen."
"What? What're you talking about? I don't like him." I smile nervously and shake my head.
"God, you were so weird the other day at lunch and now, all biting your lip and telling me he took you into his office. Fuck, you totally have a crush on him." She says emphatically.
I keep my eyes on the road and try not to tighten my grip on the steering wheel.
"Shut up, I don't like him or have a crush on him. He's so old." I'm scrunching my toes in my boots as a nervous reaction.
"Oh, okay," Rose responds clearly not believing me.
We're close to the Cullens' house, approaching the town's edge.
"Whatever," I say like I'm not bothered by her hypothesis. I look over at her and she returns my gaze with raised eyebrows before looking back to the road. I do the same.
"Slow down!" Rose says. We both see the car in the ravine at the same time.
"Fuck," I say as I slow down and pull over to the side of the road.
"Stay in the car," I tell Rose as I pull out my phone. "Rose, call my dad and tell him where we are. Um, the Cullens live right around here, I'll call Dr. Cullen, he'll probably be faster than the paramedics.
Rose spares me any I knew it looks, and asks for the station's number.
"Just hit 911, we should be close enough to get their switchboard." In the country, most times you got the state troopers emergency line. "After that call the station anyway so my dad knows we're okay." I tell her my dad's direct dial and go into my contacts for Dr. Cullen's number.
He answers almost straight away.
"Dr. Cullen, hi, this is Isabella Swan. Listen, we're right by your driveway on the 101 and someone's driven off the road and is stuck in the ravine. No one looks like they're moving. We're calling my dad but I thought if you were home you'd be here quicker." I say all this in a rush, my hand shaking and my eyes darting back to the woods and the car's taillights.
"Stay in your car, I'll be there in three minutes." I end the call and breathe deeply.
"Mr. Swan, we're okay. Yeah, I called 911. Isabella just got off the phone with Dr. Cullen, he lives nearby, he's going to check out the passenger, I don't know if there's more than one person in the car. Here, you want to talk to her? Yeah, we're not getting out of the car, we'll wait until someone gets here. Thanks."
Rose lets out a deep breath herself and we sit in silence for the next couple of minutes until there's a knock on my window. We both jump before I open the door and get out to see Carlisle's gaze travel over my form. He reaches forward and puts his finger under my chin and tips my head up to meet his eyes.
"You're okay?" He asks solemnly.
"Yeah, I'm fine. The accident is right over here, we just came up on it coming back from the movies." We turn and nearly bump into Rose. She moves and the three of us walk over to the ravine. Dr. Cullen works his way down the slope and looks in the car.
"Bella, go in the back of my truck and pull out the neck brace in the back seat. We'll wait for the paramedics to come with the board."
I retrieve what he needs and come back to see the person is talking. I don't know who it is; it's an older man in an old pickup truck before there were things like airbags and shoulder straps. He has lump forming on his forehead and I look down to see a can of beer.
Fuck.
"That deer came out and my truck's tires are bald, I slipped on some black ice."
Rose has also seen the can of beer on the floor of the truck and walks over to me and takes my hand.
"Shit, can you imagine if we had been here a couple of minutes earlier?" She wraps her hand around my waist as we lean against my truck. Carlisle talks to the guy, and holds an icepack over the man's lump. We here the sirens approach a few minutes later.
"Baby," Charlie says slamming the car door shut while the EMTs pull up right behind him. He briefly wraps me in a hug before pulling away. "Rosalie, you're okay?"
"We're fine, Chief," Rose responds, "Bella is a very safe driver. Quick thinking," she smiles sincerely.
"Right, alright then," Charlie says absently before walking purposefully over to the accident.
"That doesn't happen very often."
"What doesn't?" I ask.
"I'm not used to being a guy's afterthought."
"That's my dad," I say emphatically.
"Dr. Cullen's not your dad. I saw the way he looked at you," she whispers.
"I work in his office and just took a job babysitting for his niece, he knows me more than he knows you."
"He didn't even look at me," she shrugs like she can't be bothered with any other stories because what she's saying is the truth. "He didn't put a finger under my chin and pull my head up."
"Give it a rest Rose, you're making something out of nothing."
"Yeah, if you say so."
I know she doesn't believe me.
So, you think Bella's going to be able to keep Rose from figuring it all out? Let me know your thoughts.
Ms. Cuppy started a Facebook group for Dirty Carlisle, I try to post teasers on there, we've had some fun banter, take a look at my profile if you're interested. There's also a great banner Sleepyvalentina made for Dirty Carlisle that's posted there too!