Disclaimer: Roll a single dice. Whatever number comes up, go to that chapter and read the disclaimer there. Or, go off of your previous knowledge: I do not own Twilight, despite my dreams.
A/N: Three days, two chapters. Amazing, huh? Just to let everyone know, I won't be updating over the holiday. Before, and after, yes, but not during. Oh, yeah, and the chapter title is quite stupid, I know. It's really pretty much a set up for Bella filling out papers and getting frustrated... well, my idea-bouncer-offers know where I'm going with this. The rest of you simply must be patient with me, please, and trust that I'll get there someday.
To Reviewers, since I think the system is suffering somewhat (I don't get email alerts right now, even though I'm supposed to, so I bet you aren't either.)rin09 and LainieMichelle: This soon enough:)
Oh.Edward: Aww, you're so nice! Thanks for the compliment!
Vicky: Haha, thanks, and I won't say a word(You already did):)
SweetestCyn: Thanks, I really try to produce something worthy of reading. I appreciate all of you guys who review and have kept on reading, even if I do update sporadically. Let me know if I ever start to slip up!
emiliewhoa: Happy Edward is rather adorable, isn't he? I like him too.
Daimios: Thank you so much. This is the point where I'd like to get out a mirror and tell you to look closely in it... Everything that you have said about my writing being great can be said about your own, and much more. You are and AWESOME writer (it even shows in your reviews!) and I really appreciate your work. Again, thank you. I don't think that I can say it enough, but then I'd be annoying and all that. Hope you enjoy the next chapter, even if it isn't the lovely happy Edward we're all besotted by.
Chapter Twenty One-- Apply
I pulled the pillow off my face, groaning weakly and running my tongue around my dry mouth. My eyes refused to focus in the dim light straining through the curtains: I felt stiff and thoroughly disgusting. Sweat and tears had dried along my face, and while I may not have noticed them before, I couldn't dismiss the after-affects now.
I couldn't help but be incredibly relieved that Edward wasn't there to see me like this. My eyes raked the room anyways, double-checking for his presence anyways. I didn't want him to see me like this, but the thought of seeing him… Perhaps it would be worth it. It was useless thinking about it though, because he wasn't there.
I reluctantly swung my feet out from underneath the covers, curling my toes against the cold wooden floor. My eyes caught the green numbers on my alarm clock, flashing 12:00. The power must have failed during the night. I prayed fervently that we still had enough hot water for a decent shower as I dug through the drawer of my nightstand, searching for a watch, or any other timepiece.
11:03. My brow creased as I stared out the window: it was still strangely dark outside. I eased myself up off the bed and crossed to the window, stubbing my toe on the way. Edward was right: my stereo did not belong there. In fact, it was a bit of a hazard for someone like me. I batted aside the curtains impatiently, remembering what Edward had said about the storm system staying in Forks for the next few days when I saw the clouds hanging heavy and brooding over the horizon. That explained why I had stayed asleep for long: the combination of a wearying night and a lack of sunshine had allowed me to stay abed far past my normal waking time. I groaned: the day was already half over, and I'd done nothing at all so far.
I snagged my bag of shower supplies from its semi permanent home next to my desk and made my way to the bathroom with the hope that boiling my skin off for the second time in less than twenty-four hours would cure my feeling of hopeless apathy. There was a lot that needed to be accomplished today: I couldn't really afford a day off, even if it was a Saturday. I was only lucky that I wasn't scheduled to work at the Newton's shop today. Perhaps it was capitalizing on their pity, but I hadn't refused their offer to take off for a bit once they'd heard that I'd taken off, yet again. I was due to start back again on Monday, and fielding the questions from Mike was not going to be an enjoyable experience.
I undressed quickly, relieved to be free of the clinging fabric that still held the taint of fear. I stepped into the shower, turning it on, and nearly jumped at the shock of the chill water on my skin. Frowning, I adjusted the water temperature until it was satisfactory, then began kneading shampoo through my hair. Something about the action was conducive to inspired thought: topics for college essays ran through my head. Stories that I could tell, phrases I could use, characteristics that I admired in others, my own strengths and weaknesses: all were fodder to be used to get me into a university. I grinned wryly, thinking about some of my more life-changing experiences: I didn't think that any admissions officer would believe anything I had to say about the true identities of the Cullen family or what they were capable of. Instead, the images of the tide pools drifted through my mind again; perhaps they could be implemented somehow. Maybe used in a metaphor of some sort…
I pulled my fingers through my hair, working conditioner, with the same relaxing strawberry scent, through it now, my mind sifting through the names of the colleges I still needed to apply to. At least two had deadlines this week and three more had cut-off dates that fell by the end of the week after. Many deadlines had already passed, but Edward had suggested that I apply anyways and hope that my academic record was enough to impress them and sway them to disregard the deadline in my case: as he put it, the "must be post-marked by" date was more of a suggestion. In the long run it only meant that I wouldn't get early consideration. I supposed that if anyone knew about college applications, it would be him, although I doubted that he'd ever put off applying as long as I had.
After a few more moments the state of the rest of my afternoon and the glories of warm water, I turned the shower off and wrapped myself in a thick towel. The mirror was fogged over and the exhaust fan was running full-tilt—perhaps my shower had been a little too warm and too long. Steam added a light haze to the air, but I felt much better than I had a little over a half-hour ago. I readied myself quickly, tossing on an old pair of comfortable jeans and a rather baggy hooded sweatshirt: Forks air was still chill on my skin. I ripped a brush through my hair and pulled it up into a ponytail, seeing no sense in getting more complicated with it than I really needed to.
I eased the door open, my arms full of dirty clothes and bathroom paraphernalia. In a few short steps, I crossed over to my own room and dumped the whole of it on my floor: it could be taken care of later. For now, I had things to get done. I snagged the top few applications off of the stack—Edward had thoughtfully organized them by due dates—along with a pen and my favorite notebook and headed downstairs to work at the kitchen table.
Time to apply myself, I thought, a cheesy grin on my face.