Author Note: Oh Jeez. Six pages. Please enjoy. I think the majority of you will. I HIGHLY suggest downloading the playlist, really. Also, for the record, it's around one in the morning and I have to get up at 6:45 tomorrow morning to go to Orlando. Glorious. Also, I'm on spring break. Woo. Don't expect a new chapter anytime soon. When I get back from Orlando on Thursday I'm strictly working on my research paper and patiently waiting for the new episode of the Office on Thursday night. So pumped. You seriously have no idea. Also, um, my mom bought me bubble tea tonight. She rules my life at the moment.
And you know what else rules my life?
Feedback. Feedback rules my life.
So, feedback? Por favor? :)
"I can't stop the feeling as I'm walking away,
and I can never understand half the things you say,
and we're walking, walking, walking away.
So I said here's to me, to you, to us,
to everything before it fell apart,
and we're walking, walking, walking away.
Things were better then,
you felt that you had to pretend,
but as the time goes by,
you stop and sigh,
you stop and sigh and then you wonder why."—Streetlight Manifesto, Walking Away
00
"So I'm assuming the sunglasses are your new trademark, right?" she asked, gesturing to the rayban wayfarers on his face. He merely pulled them off and cocked an eyebrow at her, giving her that stupid crooked smile that would make any girls' knees turn to the consistency of jell-o. Jerk.
She sighed in utter irritation, "Do you really have to do that dazzling thing still? The fact that it's dark and rave-y in here makes you even more you… ish that usual."
"Do you really lose your ability to create coherent sentences that actually make sense whenever you're around me?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
She just rolled her eyes and nodded towards the front door. She slithered between small spaces and ducked under outstretched arms that balanced a body on a wall and made her way towards the front door. He followed behind her, seeming to float past people drinking their crude drinks and noting the girls who would probably end up doing things they would regret in the morning.
They finally made it to the door and she slipped out quickly, leaving space for him to exit as well. She stepped out into the cold air and inhaled sharply, then pulled her jacket around her tighter.
"You know, it shouldn't be this cold. It's June." she grumbled, then looked up at the night sky.
"Orion." he noted dutifully, following her gaze. She squinted slightly.
"Can't see it. But the big dipper is over there. See?" she asked, gesturing and outlining the constellation of stars.
He nodded quietly in affirmation and continued staring into the night sky.
"Keys, please." she finally said, holding out her hand. He looked at her skeptically and arched an eyebrow.
"Are you kidnapping me?" he asked, smirk playing over his handsome features.
She shook her head and chuckled slightly, responding with a quick "Negative, ghostrider. Now let me have your keys." He merely pulled them out of his pocket and dropped them into her outstretched palm. She caught them with ease and began flipping through them.
"Let's see if I remember these…" she said with a determined look on her face "….house, garage…. Record cabinet, Rosalie's BMW, Piano…. A-ha. Volvo key. Neat." she selected the right Volvo key and headed towards the silver car that was parked near the Stanley's house. She quickly unlocked the driver's side door and pulled out her cell phone for light.
She shone the light around the drivers seat area, by the wheel, near the ground, mumbling "trunk, trunk… where's the trunk button…" finally, of course, the trunk button was found, which caused for a slight squeak of pride for the tiny girl.
The trunk popped and she opened it, taking a seat in the back. Edward cocked an eyebrow, curious of her motives the whole time. She rolled her eyes at him and gestured to the empty space next to her. He cocked an eyebrow again.
"Well, sit." she said in a 'duh'-tone. "We're going to have a lovely little chat that's quite overdue."
00
It was awkward at first, but then the words started cascading down like an avalanche on behalf of both patrons. Both spoke in turns, and listened carefully when they were spoken to. Essentially, they did what Kurt Cobain called in one of Nirvana's songs, shooting the shit; in other words, petty catching up and dancing around the important topics and questions that needed to be answered.
"Oh yeah. Group therapy was glorious, really. Quite glamorous. The strung out look suits some exceptionally well." she cracked sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest. "And the coffee sucked, too."
He just shook his head and laughed, "Since when did you like coffee?"
She 'Psh'-ed him and grinned lightly, "Since about… oh, November or December. Around when Andrew and I got pretty close. He drinks it, and I just sorta picked it up that way. You know what I'm talking about, way you'd pick up on words your friends say if you were around them too much. You understand."
He nodded and grimaced in annoyance. "So, while we're on the topic of Andrew Kingston, did you know that he just so happens to be a reformed cocaine addict?"
Bella just gave him a look and shook her head, "Oh, please. People change, Edward. It's not like you're perfection in the flesh, besides the look. He's not doing coke anymore, and he's not hanging out with those people anymore. I'm not saying he's one-hundred percent recovered, no addict ever is, but he's trying and doing well. Andrew's not perfect and neither are you. Honestly. Get over it."
He cleared his throat and sighed, "I apologize. It wasn't right to disrespect your friend."
She noted the fact that he said 'friend' with bitterness and annoyance. She knew Edward well enough; boys like Andrew Kingston were looked down upon greatly. She knew that for a fact. It was annoying, the arrogance, but she was used to it.
Bella shook her head and sighed, "Whatever, Edward. It's finally gotten to that point in the conversation, hasn't it?"
He looked her in the eyes, the topaz smoldering, as per usual. "What are you talking about?"
She laughed a cynical, sarcastic, laugh. "You know exactly what the hell I'm talking about, Edward. Don't play dumb. You're too brilliant for that and I know you too well."
He crossed his arms over his chest and met her eyes, his own eyes becoming hard and cold. "Fine, Isabella. I have a question for you, and I'm sure you have one for me."
She nodded, "Go on. An eye for an eye. I'll give you an honest answer if you give me and equally honest one."
He smirked, "You never did answer my question. From in the hall a couple months ago."
She nodded curtly again, "No, I didn't. I wasn't ready to answer it. And, in all honesty, I don't think I can give you a straight answer. I can state the obvious, like, oh, I don't know, the fact that he has a fully-functioning heart that pumps blood through his body, and the fact that he wouldn't leave me for some random reason. But as I recall, your question was 'what does he have that I don't', correct?"
"That would be correct."
"Well, cliché question, for one, but off the top of my head, and besides the obvious, he understands, Edward. He helped me get from point A to point B in getting over the fact that you up and left with practically no rhyme or reason. Well, technically there was a reason, but god forbid it ever be a legitimate reason," she said with a scoff of disgust, "So Charlie sent me to a shrink. You knew that already. He's her nephew, I met him in group. We started to hang out. We clicked. He brings out the best in me. He helped me remember what it was like, to, I don't know, be content with my life? He picked up the pieces to the puzzle you gave up on when things got the least bit challenging, and hell, he finished the damn thing, too."
They sat there, glaring at eachother for a few seconds. One glared at the other passively, with a hint of pain and anger, while the other glared in absolute and total fury at the other.
"So I'm assuming your question is why I left."
She did one of those mocking nods. "Yeah."
"I left because I loved you and didn't want you to be killed,Bella. Things are already dangerous enough around here for you, anyway. My staying could have just presented a bigger problem. You were better off without me. But when I saw you in Volterra… you weren't happy. You were all in one piece, and you seemed okay, but not happy. And I wanted you to be happy… I thought you could be happy."
She bit her lip in uncertainty. "Well, your plan failed. Miserably. Congratulations on that." she said quietly, biting her lip again.
"Do you still love me, though?" he asked, almost pleadingly.
She stared up at the sky and smiled timidly. "Huh. I do see Orion now…"
00
After a few more minutes of stargazing, she came back to.
"Part of loving someone is the ability to let them go. Oddly enough, I think it was a Christina Aguilera song that said something about 'if you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it's yours.' I don't know. I never really paid much attention to that type of thing. For some reason, it struck a chord with me. You never forget your first love. I've heard that… so many times. I can't count. And, that's true. You don't ever forget your first love. But there comes a point when you just…" she shrugged and exhaled, "let them go. There's nothing you can do. I figured you were gone forever. So, I just… let you go. Of course, the duct tape holding me together kind of fell off as soon as you came back, but that still didn't change. Part of me still loves you immensely, but I just… let you go. And for that, I'm really, sincerely sorry."
He gazed up at the stars for a long time, not saying anything.
"Okay. I understand."
00
They walked back to the party side by side in a comfortable silence, but unfortunately, that comfortable silence was filled with that awkward sexual tension that she hated so much. As they ambled up to the deserted front porch, Edward sighed tiredly.
She was about to open the door, and he quickly grabbed her arm and pinned her against the wall, lips collapsing onto lips. The last kiss. Good god, what a cliché. It was worthy of every single teenage movie ever made. He pulled away, gasping for air and she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.
Edward gave her hand a squeeze and slowly let go. He looked back at her and smiled.
"I'll see you around, Bella."
"A better place, a better time, Edward. Good luck at Dartmouth."
He nodded. "Good luck at Berkeley."
She gave a small wave and sighed as he drove off.
someday you will say "that's it, that's all"
but I'll be waiting there with open arms to break your fall
I know that you think that you're on your own
but just know that I'm here
and I'll lead you home
if you let me
she said "forget me"
but I can't
00
Andrew Kingston hadn't had a drink in months. An alcohol-related drink, that is. Maybe a year, if he wanted to round off. But, unfortunately, he made the mistake of opening the front door to the Stanley house at the worst moment.
Because Edward Cullen had pinned Bella Swan against a wall and was kissing her.
Part of him wanted to smack her, and part of him wanted to punch himself in the stomach, and the rest of him wanted to deck Edward Cullen. He shook his head in disappointment and quietly closed the door. And in that exact moment, he thought, 'Fuck it.' as he walked to the kitchen, where two guys he faintly knew were pouring vodka shots. He took one and downed it easily, not even noticing the burn in the back of his throat as the liquid went down.
One of the polo-clad guys congratulated him and gave him a high-five. He returned it and smiled to himself.
'Yeah,' he thought, 'Fuck it.'
And took another shot off the counter.
Oh! My Dear! My tis of thee! What a tangled web we weave!
Everyone is the one until the one falls down
Then we're all just "please, please, please"
The painted rust will only fool the fools for just so long
Eventually, that's when they'll see everything was wrong
00
Noise: streetlight manifesto- walking away, what a wicked gang are we, somewhere in the between, a better place, a better time.