Chapter 19! Only one more to go!
Movies I Want to See:
Avatar: The Last Airbender
Charlie St. Cloud
Salt
They all look awesome!
I probably won't get to see all of them, though. I've got to do some serious back-to-school shopping. . . . Even writing the word hurts . . .
With only one more week left (after this one) to complete my goal, the next chapter will MOST DEFINITELY BE ON TIME!
That being said, on with the drama!
Previously:
I took a deep breath. "I was just talking with Alice." I began.
"Never a good thing." He smiled at his weak attempt to lighten the mood.
I gave him a little smile and continued. "She said you're a virgin."
"So, you're saying you want to be married first?"
He nodded. "That's the way I think things should be."
He got out and opened my door for me. I would have objected, but for some reason I just didn't have the strength. He walked me to my door, and we stood there under the dim glow of the porch light. He kissed me chastely on the lips, and promised he'd be back as soon as he could. I stood there and watched him walk away.
He didn't look back, just got in his car and left.
I don't know why, but for some reason this felt more like a lasting goodbye then it should've.
It had been three days since Edward left, and I was going crazy not being able to see him.
I had talked to him, of course, but he always seemed distant and not really there. I tried to reassure myself that it was just that he missed me, but a small part of my brain wouldn't stop screaming at me that I knew in my heart that wasn't true.
I was currently folding laundry and waiting on Edward to call. He usually called everyday at noon, but today it was three and I still hadn't heard from him. I would give him ten more minutes, then I would call him.
Ten past three came and went, along with twenty past three, and then three-thirty. At three-forty-five, I sat down and bawled like I haven't bawled in a long time. He had forgotten all about me. He went to London, met a British girl, and forgot all about me. The real kicker was, he had known all along. The night we'd said goodbye, he had known. Every phone call, he'd known. Now it had finally happened.
It was all I could do to heave my sobbing body up the stairs and lock myself in my room. I laid on my back and stared at the wall. Four o'clock. Four-thirty. Four-forty-five. Eventually I just gave up and stared at the ceiling. For two reasons. One: I couldn't take the agony of watching the minutes tick by anymore. Two: I got tired of constantly blinking my eyes to clear them of tears.
I stayed like that for a long time, letting tears run down my face and only blinking when my eyes screamed at me to.
My Phoenix friends would be disappointed. If they had been here, they would be dragging my butt to the mall, and I would have an entire new wardrobe. They would make me try on everything in said wardrobe, and I would walk around town with a new guy hanging off my arm, showing Edward exactly what he's missing out on. They would not have let me mope this long, and they would not be letting me think for a second that he was worth crying over.
Right now, I really needed my Phoenix friends.
Maybe I should. I could get on a plane right now, and be in Phoenix before tomorrow. My mother would be elated, and they wanted me over for spring break anyway. Maybe I would stay for spring break, and a long time after that.
Who was I trying to kid? I would never do that, I was too responsible. Too dependable, too prone to always do what was expected of me, and nothing else.
But I didn't have to be. For once in my life, I wanted to be the person who everybody looked at with admiration of her courage to be herself. I wanted to be the flighty type, like my mother. I wanted to be the person who could do something ridiculous and insane, and no one would be surprised, because she did things like that everyday. I wanted to be crazy and wild and stupid. More than anything, I just wanted to be Bella. So what was holding me back? I realized, nothing but myself.
It was an impulsive decision, but impulsive sounded really good at the moment.
I got up off the bed and ran down the stairs. I grabbed the phone, and called on operator.
"Hello?" her sickeningly sweet voice answered.
"Hi," my voice sounded scratchy, so I clamped my hand over the mouthpiece and cleared my throat, " my name is Isabella Swan. I'd like a ticket for the next flight out to Phoenix, please."
"Alright, round-trip or one-way?"
"One-way, please."
"Would you like it to be a ticket going straight there, or with stops?"
"A ticket going straight there would be nice, but, really, I just want to be out of here as soon as possible."
"And where are you flying from?"
"I'll be flying from Sea-TAC airport in Washington."
"Alright, the fastest thing available is a ticket that will take you on a few stops, and it leaves at six o'clock Sunday morning." I groaned internally. Sunday, he was coming back Sunday. If he found out I was leaving, he would woo me back into thinking I was his one and only for sure. Six a.m., though . . . He shouldn't be back by then, I decided. Just to make sure, I'd get there a half an hour earlier than if I would if I wasn't leaving on the day he was arriving. Surly I wouldn't meet up with him. Still . . . there was always that chance . . .
"You don't have anything earlier? I'm getting out of town to avoid seeing someone again, and he's coming back on Sunday. Are you sure there isn't anything before that?"
"Sorry, but I double checked. That's the earliest thing. There's only one ticket left, so if you want it, you better get it now." She didn't sound sorry at all, she sounded like she was thinking Hurry up and tell me already! I don't have all day, you know! Snob.
"Yes, I want it."
"That'll be six hundred and twenty-five dollars, please."
I cringed. I didn't exactly keep that kind of money on hand. Oh, well, a little dip into my college fund wouldn't hurt. I'd make sure to get a job and put all the money back before I graduated.
I gave the annoying receptionist lady my credit card number, and hung up without saying thank you. Really, I didn't have anything to thank her for, she was a jerk.
The next thing I did was make dinner for dad. He wasn't going to take me moving back well, and I wanted these last days to be happy ones. I wanted him to be comfortable.
I was taking the grilled fish out of the oven when I heard the door open and my dad's usual call of, "Bella, is that you?"
"Yeah, dad. I'm in here." Time to face the inevitable.
The next few days went by in a blur. It was all packing, spending time with dad, and waiting on Edward to call. He never did call the day I made the decision to leave, and he never did give me a reason why. I didn't ask for one, either. Really, what did it matter? We where done anyway.
When he did call, he was still distant and not really there. Only now, I was too. He didn't catch on to that until Saturday, when I was especially distant. I was packing up the last of my stuff and talking to him at the same time, so I didn't hear half of what he was saying.
He did catch my attention, though, when his voice raised an octave. "Bella, are you okay? You don't sound like you're paying attention." His voice sounded interested in what I had to say for the first time since he left, so it surprised me.
"Yeah, I'm just putting away some clothes." I tried to make my voice sound as normal as possible, but I was a terrible liar. I didn't know why it was acting up now, though, because I wasn't exactly lying. I really was putting away clothes, I just didn't tell him I was putting them in a suitcase.
"Oh, okay." He still didn't sound like he believed me, but he let it go.
Other then that, he didn't sound enthused to be talking to me at all. I was excited to leave, but it was going to hurt when I broke it off. I hadn't told him yet, because I knew he would convince me to see him again. Then when I was with him he would convince me that this whole thing was a misunderstanding and he would have a perfect excuse for everything. I just couldn't deal with it right now.
It wasn't just that. I knew I was overreacting by moving away just because Edward sounded strange on the phone, but I just felt like everything in my world was crashing down on me. I knew in my heart that, if I didn't get a firm grip on my life soon, I was going to have some sort of panic attack and go berserk. I felt like this move–such a big decision, made solely by me–would give me some sense of being in control again.
I'd done that before–have a panic attack. It wasn't fun.
I was fourteen. My grandpa had just died, and I had been so obsessed with making it better for my mom and all my aunts and uncles, that I had lost myself. One night, I had stayed up until midnight doing funeral arrangements. The next day, I couldn't remember what I liked for breakfast. I hadn't eaten in the morning–with all the planning to be done, I was lucky if I sometimes got in a full meal per day–in at least a week, and I was so tired, that I completely forgot.
That, for some reason, sent me into hysterics. I laid down on the kitchen floor and bawled for hours. My mother was gone to see the owner for the funeral home about something, so there was no one there to help me. I was going through a full-on panic attack, and I was all alone. I rocked back and forth for an hour, praying to God that I would stop soon. When you're in that situation, you just can't. You have no control over your body, and that just terrifies you even more.
It was about two hours later that I finally found a way to stop. I laid there for a minute, shivering and trembling, too weak to move off the kitchen floor.
I had been so terrified at the time, that it would happen again, that there was some disease that made me do it. I didn't know until my mom came home and I told her everything that had happened that she explained to me that I had experienced a panic attack. Apparently it was very common on our side of the family.
Ever since then, I've been doing everything I could to avoid having another one. So far, I've been doing a good job.
I was done packing now, it was Sunday, and I had ten minutes before I needed to be at the airport.
I looked around my now empty room one last time, and a single tear slid down my cheek. I was going to miss this place, but I was on to a different city. I could start over, I could date anyone I wanted. Though I knew in my heart I wouldn't.
With a sigh, and one last look around my room, I picked up my suit case and headed out the door.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I took my Blackberry out of my pocket and ran the pad of my thumb over the little ball, awakening the screen. A little white box appeared on the screen and the black words 1 text message where written on it. I opened the text, and found it was from Edward.
Home now, miss you. Call me, I'd like you to come over tonight. XOXOXO
I scrolled out of my messages, and turned off my phone. I couldn't turn back, not now. I was so close to getting out, something I've wanted to do since I've gotten here. Mainly because of Pete.
I'd just moved here, and my dad was afraid of me not having any friends when school started. He insisted I attend a bonfire with his best friend's son, Jacob Black.
Jacob was a pleasant enough person, and I found that conversation flowed easily with him. He was someone I could definitely see myself becoming friends with.
I was in the middle of a daydream about how much I would be able to see him if we did become friends by tagging along whenever my dad took a trip over to see Billy, when I was first approached by Pete Whimsley.
At first I'd been pretty repulsed by him. He had a sleazy smile, a girly voice, and there was just something about him that . . . sent shivers down my spine. I stayed as far away from him as I could, but he persisted, practically stalking me all night.
I had never officially agreed to a date with him. He just showed up one Saturday night, dressed in jeans and an orange tee-shirt, and asked my father at the door if I had any plans.
Charlie obviously didn't get the chills I did around him. Even though I was hesitant, and told him outright in the kitchen when Pete had gone out to warm up the car that I didn't want to do this, Charlie made me. He said that I'd already agreed and it was a good character builder to go through with your decisions.
The date wasn't as horrific as I'd thought. He wasn't overly pushy, like all the stories tell you the abusive ones will be. I did, however, have to unwrap his arm from around me at least sixty times in the movie theater, probably seventy.
He asked me out on another date one week from then, and I agreed, simply from boredom. I was used to the fast-paced city life. Staying home on Saturday night sounded . . . really pathetic.
He was fine the first two or three weeks, only a little pushy, and that I could handle.
It wasn't until the third week he started getting abusive.
We where at a party at the house of one of his friends. I was talking to one of the friends I'd made at school, Mike Newton. He was a nice enough person, I could get along with him. In no way did I sense a life-long friendship coming on, but he was a pretty good friend, very loyal.
A few minutes into our conversation, Eric Yorkie came over and joined us. He was just like Mike to me. A friend, but not a best friend.
I have no idea what Pete read into our conversation from across the room, but whatever it was, he didn't like it. Maybe he thought I was flirting, maybe he thought I was cheating with both of them, maybe he was just plain jealous. The reason doesn't matter. At least, not near as much as the outcome.
He stormed over and yanked me out of the house by his death grip on my arm. By the time we where alone in the yard, all of my arm under and below his hand was numb and tingling uncomfortably.
He smacked me mercilessly right then and there, and threw me in his truck. He sped to my house, screaming all the way that if I ever told anyone, I was a dead woman. He took me home, shoved me out of the cab of his truck, and sped off.
I still don't know why I never told anyone. I didn't believe him, that's for sure. My dad was Chief of Police, what was he going to do? I was stupid not to, I could've been murdered. A secret like that is not to be kept, because a secret like that can very quickly become deadly.
Still, my deadly secret remained a secret until the night I came home to my dad, crying, bruised, and successful in ending the relationship before it ended me. Three months after that first meeting, with that monster the world calls a human being.
I won't just dance on his grave, I'm going to throw a whole damn party.
I continued down the stairs, and out the front door. I'd already said goodbye to my dad last night, so there was no need to call him at work to do it over the phone. I threw the last suitcase out of many into the back of my truck, and climbed in. I stuck the key in the ignition and revved it, I was ready to go.
I sped away from Forks–from Edward, my first love–and never looked back.
Will they ever reunite? Why was Edward acting so weird? How will their confrontation on the phone go? Read the next chapter to find out!
I'm now brushing up on my Twilight knowledge. I want the Edward from the first book to be the Edward in my story. Really, out of all the books, I liked his personality in that one the best. I've been trying to make my Edward as close to that Edward as possible without being a copycat from the beginning, is it working?
Next chapter will probably be in Edward's POV. We need some burning questions answered, now!
I now have over 60 reviews! I'm so happy! You guys are the best followers ever, and I appreciate every single one of you more than you'll ever know! Lets try for 70 before the next one, shall we? Even one-worded reviews make me smile!
By the way, expect the next update to be Wednesday.
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