Disclaimer: God knows I don't own Twilight.
Chapter 20
Exodus 20:13 You shall not kill.
Bella Mercer
To Bella's delight, Edward doesn't leave her side when the teens from the last youth meeting send her glaring looks – if anything, he stands taller, leans closer, even allows his knee to bump next to hers.
Who knew knees were so sensitive? The small bump sent a thrill through Bella's spine, maybe because her white jeans were ripped on the knees and Edward's tan cargo shorts revealed the skin of his. And Bella knew Edward felt something too because, as soon as the zing shot through Bella's system, he twitched his leg away, sending a shy glance in her direction, as if gauging her reaction, before letting his knee fall against hers again.
The touch was completely innocent and totally revealing at the same time.
Bella enjoyed it.
Immensely.
Pastor Carlisle has the room set up in a slightly different way this week – instead of sitting in the circle of chairs like he normally does, he's brought in a spinning desk chair, which he sits backwards on and rotates as he talks, looking at each of his youthful charges.
Bella thinks he's trying to make a point – assert authority because of what happened last week and the fact that Jared, who was absent today, didn't listen to him.
"There seems to be a slight misconception about the sixth commandment," Pastor Carlisle begins. "There needs to be an amendment. You shall not kill…on purpose. Self-defense, in God's eyes, if it's true self-defense, is…well, it's not okay, but He overlooks it. He accepts it. He doesn't want you to feel guilty for defending yourself, so it's not a sin. But, aside from that, we have to think about other types of killings – like capital punishment. Because of God's laws, capital punishment is not a sin in His eyes. God gave us justice and he expects us to use it, which we do in a court of law…."
Pastor Carlisle goes on, tracking back to self-defense killing, and how to forgive one's self for it. The lecture is shorter than most and the Pastor releases the group thirty minutes ahead of schedule.
Bella and Edward, along with Rosalie and Emmett, migrate downstairs to the front lobby, hanging out on the low couches, talking about the band, which was progressing beautifully.
Or, at least, Bella thought so. True, they needed a lot of practice, a lot more practice, but they were falling into a comfortable rhythm with each other, learning musical habits and where talent was lacking. Emmett, for one, had a bad habit of clanging his cymbals on Bella's high notes, which was an easy fix because he tended to improvise – he only needed to remember when Bella was singing to avoid that issue.
Edward was sitting rather close to Bella, his shoulder now leaning against hers as they laughed at one of Emmett's outlandish jokes, Rosalie rolling her eyes with a grin as Emmett winks at her. Edward's hand brushes against Bella's – her heart flutters.
His coke-bottle green eyes and his messy hair and the calluses on his hands; he made her lightheaded.
His father, on the other hand, made a heavy ball of dread form in her stomach.
She saw him before her friends did, his facial structure so similar to Edward's, but his eyes dark and cold and angry. Pastor Abbott wasn't outright glaring, but it was close, his eyes trained on Edward and Bella's hands.
She pulls away, sits up straighter.
Edward frowns slightly, the laughter dying from his eyes as he follows her wary gaze.
His stomach drops, too.
Edward hadn't told either of his parents why he was staying late on Fridays, sometimes into the late evening, or the fact that Bella was becoming someone important to him. Looking at his father now, he knows he should have said something to his mother – at least his mother.
But he hadn't. He'd wanted to keep their blooming friendship – relationship – to himself.
On Sunday, his father had not been pleased that Edward skipped church and Edward had lied, said something about a Biology project. That was the only reason why Pastor Abbott had reluctantly waived off his anger.
Now he knew, knew, more than Edward was ready for him to know.
This wasn't good.
Pastor Abbott walks calmly forward, approaching Bella and Edward, paying no attention to their rapidly hushing friends. He stops in front of his son and Edward averts his gaze.
His father, for all his faults, for all his pushiness, was his hero.
His hero looked more like a villain now, though, and Edward wasn't sure how to feel about it. Bella opened his eyes in more ways that one, in subtle ways, ways that lingered and gave him strength of mind. With his eyes open, he saw all of his father's subtle prejudices, the favoritism towards how one looks regardless of how one acts. Everything his father preached…wasn't what Edward wanted to be.
Edward loved God.
But he was also pretty sure he loved Bella.
Pastor Carlisle had said something about metaphorical killing in today's Youth meeting. "The killing, the intentional smothering of another person's wishes and personality, is another type of sin God warns us against. We have to treat each other fairly, with kindness, because even killing that doesn't kill is sinful and against the sixth commandment."
Thinking about it, Edward's father was guilty of this crime, this metaphorical killing – the passive jibes about Edward's music, the push towards studying theology…All of Pastor Abbott's behaviors towards his only child was smothering Edward. Smothering.
The dread in his stomach lurches to his throat when his father's eyes narrow on Bella's exposed tattoo, the one of scripture on her forearm.
Defiantly, Bella narrows her eyes back.
Something was brewing.
Edward didn't want any part of it, but it couldn't be avoided.
"Edward," Pastor Abbott says, his tone cold, unyielding. "Why aren't you with your youth group?"
"Pastor Carlisle let us out early," he answers, his eyes darting to his best friend's too-serious face. Even Rosalie looked tense.
Did his father always foster this wariness, this caution, or is this a recent change?
"Are you sure you're not skipping?" Pastor Abbott asks, his gaze and question clearly directed at Bella.
Edward clenches his jaw, stands, steps half in front of Bella so his father has to meet his eyes. "Pastor Carlisle let the entire group out early," he repeats, his voice growing as strong as his resolve.
"I see," his father answers coolly, then turns his attention back to Bella – rather, her forearm – over Edward's shoulder.
Irritation flares through Edward – how can his father just brush him off like that?
"I believe I told you to cover your tattoos, Miss Mercer."
Bella lifts her chin and flashes her ring finger, the little equal sign tattooed on her left hand. "My tattoos have meaning, Pastor. Meaning to me and to my family. They are as much a part of me as my friendship with Edward is."
Pastor Abbotts eyes harden. "Friendship?" he echoes. "What kind of friend takes a boy from his faith?"
"Dad-"
"What kind of friend tempts him with her flesh? Keeps him out late?"
Horrified, Edward tries to interrupt again. "Dad, stop-"
"What kind of friend seduces my son, makes him commit the worst sin?"
Rosalie gasps, her hand squeezing Emmett's knee. This is terrible.
Bella stands, her fingers squeezing the thin silver chain that carried her purity ring. "I would never do any of the things you're accusing me of, sir," she spits. "I'm still as virginal today as I am the day I was born, not that it's any of your business. I have never seduced anyone or tempted them with my flesh. I wear the clothes I wear because I like them, not that it matters to anyone else. As for taking Edward away from his faith, I didn't encourage him to skip church Sunday – that was his choice."
"You're a heathen," Pastor Abbott tells her coldly.
Bella's face, chin tilted up, grey eyes narrowed, doesn't flinch. She'd heard worse – certainly not from a man of God, but worse. "I love God. And what I choose to do with my body, to my body or with another body is between me and Him."
Pastor Abbott exhales sharply through his nose and turns away from the teenage girl with dark liner and facial piercings – his eyes connect with his son's. "Edward, take Emmett and Rosalie home. I believe you were carpooling with them today."
Edward shakes his head slowly, brows furrowed as he looks at his father with shocked new eyes. I can't believe he basically called Bella a whore. "No, Dad," he says tonelessly. "I'll be waiting for Laila's class to let out so I can drive all of my friend's home."
It was the first time Edward had defied his father.
And God, did it feel good.
A/N: Oh, he's such an ASSHOLE! Lol
Shout out to the reviews of the last chapter –
ParasiteGoddess – Yeah, a nice little fluffy future!
boo1414 – Yeah Bella! Go!
Debslmac -
Dinotopian – Human love-at-first-sight is always awesome!
Flavia Ribeiro – It's a nice little fluff-piece! My first!
Valentine Rain – Three cheers for Bella!
Cessperez – That was the main controversial theme I think people have with religion in general; it's the go-to, along with judgment and self-righteousness. It totally had to be in this story!
manda2784 – Bella kicks ass!
james3142 – Yeah! Jake was like "thanks for not outing me!" lol and Bella was like "Anytime, bro!"
lvk1978 – If you're still reading, those harpies are everywhere! Ran into a couple up here in Washington!
BreakingTwilightNewMoonStyle – Cursing in a church story? *gasp* No, this isn't supposed to be some imaginary world story where everyone is perfectly religious, doesn't curse, doesn't have premarital sex, etc. I'm interested in showing how real religion, real faith, works for teenagers. That involves cursing.
sujari6 – Glad you love it!
Twisted Musalih – Yep! Multiple chapters a grrrreat!
CdrIvanova – Giving. More. Lol
Mayejrmorris – Thrilled you're sticking with me!
Darcyfan14 – Cool, Bella won the debate!
Love M Go Blue – LOL Love that you psychoanalyzed Jared! So nice! And probably true!
Jansails – You're reviews are so smart, I just love reading them!
LunaDiSangue85 – Yeah, can't we all just get along!?
Super special shout out to the first review of the last chapter – Twilight Rocker 12 – Yes! Fluff Bunnies!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it.
~cupcakeriot