A/N: I know it's been ages since I've updated, which is why I decided to split this chapter in 2 because it's pretty long and I feel terrible for having abandoned this story for a while. Life's been hectic with work and school, but I'm trying my best to find the time for this too. I hope you can forgive me, and thank you so so much for still reading this it means a lot! And of course, the title of this chapter is from the song Lonely Hands by Angus & Julia Stone.
Previously in Supernova: Stella deals with the aftermath of Edward leaving. It turns out living without Edward is much harder than she thought it would be. Edward's absence starts to bring on memories from Bella's past, along with delusions and dreams that make her feel like she's going crazy. Stella also struggles with her identity, not sure what her true identity is - is it Bella? Stella? Both? And has trouble finding a happy medium between the two. After a few days, Lindsey takes it upon herself to get Stella out of her slump and back to normal life. After showering and getting a bit of a reality check, Stella feels slightly better but is still really conflicted and begins feeling trapped in her own house. She decides to take a drive and ends up at the Cullen house, where she has a conversation with an absent Edward, breaking down her doubts and feelings. Jake joins her and they chat, trying to get Stella's mind off of Edward. Jake reveals that he's chosen to stay in Wolfville with Leah to start a family, choosing to no longer phase and therefore continue with the aging process.
20. Lonely Hands
"There's nothing left for me to say to you. We can't be together, we've gone too far as it is, let's not make this worse." Edward stood up from the park bench we'd been sitting on. The clouds were dark and rumbling, threatening rain at any moment. My stomach flipped at his words. I stared down at his black and white oxford shoes, not able to fathom how he could put a stop to us, or why he wouldn't just keep trying to make it work.
"Worse? You are the best thing I have. And you can deny it all you want but I'm the best thing you have, too." I got up, the skirt of the squaw dress I wore fluttering between my knees as I quickly went after him, determined not to let him go until we settled this and until he saw that we belonged together, regardless of what separates us.
"Which is why it's best if we simply go our separate ways. I love you too much to subject you to my world. You're too good for it. Why can't you see that?"
"Because it's not true. I'm good wherever you are. I know what I want. I want you. And I know you want me too. Who cares about everything else?"
"Bella, please." Edward pinched the bridge of his nose with his right hand and, with his left, swatted his light grey blazer away, resting his hand just above the waist of his trousers. He dropped his hand from his nose and glared at me with a fierceness I'd never seen in his eyes before. "I'm dangerous!" He shouted, stabbing his fingertips into his chest. He then took a quick sweep of our surroundings to be sure no one was around. He leaned closer to me with piercing eyes, "Do you realize how easy it is for me to kill you?" He said through his teeth, hushing his tone now. "My throat burns for your blood. I want to kiss you and drain you of every last drop at the same time. I'm a monster, Bella. And I could never live with myself if I ever hurt you. Ever. We end this now, so that I can go away knowing I don't pose a threat to your life and you can move on with a nice, normal boy." His nostrils flared and he took a generous gulp as he slowly leaned back. I knew he was trying to scare me away, to rock me with fear and make me forget that I love him with everything that I am. I almost wanted to laugh at him because that could never work, I could never be afraid of him or stop loving him.
"Too late." I shrugged. "Nothing you say or do could ever make me stop loving you or wanting you. I don't know what it is you're more afraid of, that you possess the potential to kill me or that you love me so much that you forget? I mean, is that it? Do I make you lose control, Edward? Do I challenge you? Do I make you unsure of everything you've ever known?" I pressed myself up against his chest, forcing him to face me, to confront his fears so that we could move past this.
"Yes." He whispered, looking away into the trees as if disgusted with himself. I placed a hand on his jaw and turned his face towards me.
"Good." I lifted myself on to my toes and pressed my lips to his. He melted into my lips, the walls he tried so hard to keep intact crumbling beneath our kiss. He may be a big, bad vampire, but I was his weakness and he knew it. And he could never live without me, nor I without him.
"Phone." Edward said, mid-kiss. I pulled away.
"What?"
A vibration jarred in between my ribs and the hardwood floor I'd been sleeping on. I rolled on to my back, locating my phone which had somehow dislodged from the pocket of my jeans and slid upwards towards my abdomen during my sleep. I glanced at the time first, it was almost four in the morning, and then noticed that it was home calling.
"Hello?" I answered groggily. I got up and walked over to the other side of the room to stand by the window. It was still dark, the bare trees barely visible around the Cullen house.
"Stella, where are you? Are you alright?" My dad asked, panic seeping through the calmness he tried to sustain in his voice.
"Yeah, why?"
"Why? Why!" He shouted, something I'd rarely heard my dad do. "Where are you?"
"I'm," I glanced behind my shoulder to Jake, realizing that my parents had no idea of his existence and that if I said his name they'd assume the worst and probably think I was off having some desperate fling with a random stranger in lieu of my recent state these past few days. "at Dane's. Yeah, I must have fallen asleep, I'm sorry."
"You had me worried sick, Stella. We all thought you were in your bedroom asleep, then I go to check on you and you aren't there. Your mother doesn't know, you know how she'd get. You could have told us you were going to Dane's, we would have let you go no problem."
"I know, and I'm so sorry. Where's mom now?"
"She's asleep."
"I'll try to get home before she gets up, but if I don't just...I don't know, just tell her I'm at Jessica's, so she doesn't freak out. Please, Dad?"
"Alright. I'll also tell her I lifted your ban from the car." He grumbled, annoyed.
"Right, sorry. Listen, I've got to go, I don't want to wake anyone else up. I'll call later, k?" I said, hanging up before my dad could continue.
I felt bad about leaving and making my dad worry, but at the same time I didn't care. There were other more important things that mattered to me now. I dropped my hand to my side and let me arm swing with the weight of my phone as I watched Jacob sleep. I then glanced over to the stair case, curious about the rest of the house. Using my phone as a flash light, I made my way through the dark to the staircase, carefully and quietly placing my foot on one step after the other until I reached the top. I slid my fingertips along the wall to my left, feeling around and following the little blue beam of light from my phone until I reached the room in the back right corner of the house. It was the only room with the door wide open. I peaked in, as if someone would be there that I was sneaking up on. I laughed under my breath and walked to the center of the room, looking out of the wall-to-ceiling windows that replaced the wall to my left and the wall in front of me. The windows were panelled vertically with dark brown beams. In my head I pictured Edward's desk being to my left against the wall by the door, then stacks of books on the floor and the long white leather couch he had next to the window. Across from that was where he kept his music collection and other odds and ends he'd gathered throughout his years. To get to know Edward, all you had to do was step into his room where everything about him lay out in the open for you to discover. But it was all gone now, every trace of him gone, and this room failed to bare any significance to me anymore. It was just a room, and anything that happened here was long gone, moments seemingly zapped out of thin air, stashed away in the clouds and carried far, far away.
I walked over to the spot where the couch used to be and sat on the ledge of the window, drumming my fingers underneath the ledge while tapping my foot. The longer I sat there, the more I realized I wasn't really feeling sad or depressed anymore. Not that I didn't miss him, because I did agonizingly miss him. But, I wasn't sad, nor was I happy. I just was. It was like when he first left and it simply hadn't hit me yet. But now that it has, and I went through the motions, perhaps it's all simply starting to settle, like the last bit of falling snow settling into the ground after a huge snow storm. Things get a little clearer, a bit quieter and you start to enjoy the fresh change in the air and on the ground, realize it's not so bad. It feels right, even. I couldn't wait to get to that point, where I went beyond knowing this was the right choice to finally feeling it. I didn't enjoy it yet, and it my heart still hurt, as if he'd branded it with his name and it was still smoking and burning from the heat of the hot iron. But it was healing, very slowly, but it was healing around his claimed territory, a mark that would last long after it's healed over.
I wondered where he was now, what route they'd chosen to take. They must be past Quebec by now, I imagined, maybe even having passed through Ontario too. Maybe in Manitoba they took it north to Nunavut, continuing west through the Northwest Territories and Yukon territories, finally reaching Alaska. I wondered who would be meeting the Cullens once they got there. Did Tanya really exist too? Was she pretty? Well, probably gorgeous considering she's one of them.
I shook the thought out of my head, not exactly relishing in the idea of Edward being with someone else, but knowing it was an experience he had to have. I looked over my shoulder out the window behind me, finding that it had begun to snow, lightly dusting the forest floor and the bare, grey branches of the trees. In the haze of falling snow and little sleep, I could see him down below, looking up at me in the window with hands in the pockets of a grey suit, smiling. I smiled back and waved, then felt silly for it, knowing he wasn't really there. I rubbed my eyes and turned my back to the window, leaning my head against the cold glass. It'll be better, I reminded myself, someday it'll be better.
I turned on my cell phone for light again and decided to go back downstairs before Jake noticed I wasn't there. I reached the doorway, turned to take one last look at Edward's old room, then made my way down the hallway to the staircase, tip toeing down the steps and across the living room to where Jacob lay sleeping. I laid down in the spot I was in before and stared at the ceiling which seemed so very high in the dark.
I drifted in and out of sleep, wrestling with the hard floor every time I woke up. Eventually the sun began to peak through in between the trees, turning the sky various shades of orange and ivory, with the bare branches of the trees impeding on it like giant claws. I sat up, folding my knees into my chest and wrapping my arms around them as I took in the scene outside. The world was quiet and it felt as though I were the only person awake to see the woods illuminated like this. I wanted to capture it, to save it forever. I wished I could share it, to sit here with someone who could stare at the same picture and not say a word, just enjoy the moment, a witness to the beauty. Edward would have liked this. I formed him beside me, a transparent figure sitting with his ankles crossed and knees to his chest, watching the woods with me while glancing at me every once in a while. And I'd steal a look at him and we'd share a smile, then return our eyes to the world before us. I wondered what kind of sights Edward was seeing, wherever he was now. Were they as beautiful as this? Did he conjure up an image of me to keep him company while he admired them?
My phone bounced and buzzed against the hardwood floor, which woke Jacob up. I turned and reached for it while Jake rubbed his eyes and drowsily asked what was happening.
"It's just a text." I explained, flipping my phone open to see who it was.
"What time is it?" Jake asked.
"Twenty after seven."
"Jesus, who's texting you this early?" Jake groaned as he sat up, draping his arms over his bent knees.
"It's just Jessica, she wants to know if I'm going to school."
"Oh, that's right." Jake's eyes widened and he motioned to get up. "I forgot you have school."
"Wait," I grabbed his arm, pulling him back to the floor. "I'm not going." Jake sat down with a thud.
"What? Why not?"
"I just," I sighed, shaking my head as I tried to come up with some kind of acceptable excuse. Jake rose his eyebrows, waiting for my answer. "I'm not up for it yet." I shrugged, proceeding to text Jessica back to let her know I wasn't going to class today.
"Come on, Stella, you can't cut yourself off from the world. School will help you get back into your old groove." He got up again and towered over me, waiting for me to get up and follow him out.
"I'll go. Eventually." I pressed send on my phone, officially letting Jess know I wouldn't be in class today. Jake sighed.
"Go to school. For me. I'll even go with you, if you want."
I imagined walking into class with Jake, the beefy hunk that he is, fresh after Edward left. The things people would think, the reaction from Jessica...it wasn't worth the embarrassment and the judgement. I'd much rather go alone and face the music of being the pathetic girl who got depressed after her boyfriend of nearly three months split, than the girl who hopped on to another guy a week later. The rumours would spread like wild fire.
"Fine. But I'll go on my own." I took Jake's hand, shooting up without any effort on my part. I wobbled on my feet, finding my balance again. "Thanks." I nodded, feeling a little woozy. Jake laughed and pulled me to the door. I took one last sweep of the empty inside of the house, then closed the door behind me, knowing it would probably be best to never come back again.
Jake released my hand and walked over to his motorbike, fastening his helmet to his head before swinging his leg over and kicking the start engine, bringing the bike to life with a crisp roar. I got into my car and put the key in the ignition, watching from the rear view mirror as Jake spun around and zoomed out of view. I turned my car around and followed him out to Greenwich, then to Main Street where we drove until we got to my house. I parked by the curb and got out. Jake pulled by beside me and informed me that he would be back in time to escort me to school. He didn't trust that I'd actually go, and I didn't blame him because neither did I.
When I got inside, Dad was just about to leave for work. His hand shot to his heart when he saw me emerge from the front door as he was about to slip on his other loafer. I smiled cautiously, bringing my shoulders up to my ears as I closed the door behind me. I tried to laugh it off, like 'ha, kids, what can ya do?', but he wasn't buying it.
"Stella Marie Swift." His voice rose in emphasis as he pristinely pronounced my full name. My bottom lip disappeared into my mouth immediately. Dad stared at me, as if not sure himself what he would say or do next. Then, his shoulders relaxed with a sigh and he extended his arms out to me, pulling me into his slightly protruding belly. "Glad you're safe, kiddo. And don't you dare do that again." He kissed the top of my head, cradling me. I breathed in the scent of his cologne, a woodsy scent with hint of cinnamon and vanilla, along with the faint bitterness of cigar smoke nestled in the fibres of his green striped button up shirt.
"Mom won't be too happy if she finds out." I whispered, teasing him. Mom hated that he smoked the stuff, said it was one step away from cigarettes and a hop away from cancer.
"Well, it'll be our little secret then, hm?" He pulled away, rose his eyebrows and gestured to the door. I smiled, glad we had a mutual agreement. He reached for the door, then turned as I approached the stairs. "See you at lunch, then?" he asked, since lately I'd been home, sulking.
"Nope, not today. I've got school."
"That's my girl." He winked, then disappeared behind the front door.
Upstairs, I'd passed my mom reading the paper in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in hand. She nodded, bringing the coffee to her lips, as if it was completely normal that I was coming home just now, a regular thing. I figured my dad must have told her I was at Jessica's, explaining why she wasn't jumping out of her seat, hugging me and yelling at me at the same time for just disappearing. I was thankful for that. I passed Lindsey's room, where she stood in front of the mirror pushing her fingers into the roots of her hair and spraying a vast amount of hairspray from an aerosol can. The hiss from the hairspray spraying stopped and the can made a 'pop' sound when Lindsey set it down and came walking after me.
"So, is this your new thing?" She asked, one hand on her hip, her foot tapping and her eyebrows raised at me disapprovingly.
"What?" I asked, holding in a chuckle. One side of her head of perfectly curled hair was much bigger than the other.
"This sneaking out all night, not even calling, then sneaking back in the next morning. You know what it looks like? The walk of shame. And your hair, well..." She smirked.
"I feel absolutely no shame. And I was at Jessica's. It was completely innocent."
"Right. So I guess they use Jessica kind of like they use the name Jamie or Casey, you know like gender neutral? Because beefcake on the motorcycle certainly doesn't look like a Jessica to me."
I licked my lips and tried to laugh it off, but she wasn't easily fooled. Obviously, she'd seen Jake outside as he stopped to tell me he'd be back. I could lie and say he was only stopping for directions, but Jake was someone I'd planned to bring around eventually, like I would any friend. It'd be difficult to make that transition if Lindsey knows him as the 'beefcake' who stopped to ask me for directions.
"Look, he's just an old friend I ran into. He wanted to make sure I got home alright. It's honestly nothing." I explained.
"Hm," She shrugged. "That's too bad. He's hot." And with that, she turned around and returned to her mirror, bottle of hairspray in hand and fingers shoved into the deflated side of her head, ready to primp and fluff.
I proceeded to my own room, closed the door behind me and b-lined it for my closet, trying to get in and out as quickly as possible. There was a fear bubbling inside me that if I stayed too long, looked at a sensitive spot in the room, or, God forbid, triggered another memory, I'd never leave. All it took was one tiny little misstep to send me spiralling back. Being in my own room where so much happened, where the dust of recent memories resided, made me realize how fragile I am. I always thought I was stronger, that it would take more than glancing at a window to make me crumble, but apparently that was untrue.
Facing my closet, not daring to look beyond the clothing in front of me, I plucked a blue, plaid button up with quarter length sleeves from the top wrack and a pair of faded black skinny jeans from the bottom, rushing out of the room and into the bathroom where I released the breath I was surprised to find I was holding. It was like my body was running on autopilot, prepped to avoid anything that would remind me of what was missing and that what was left was fleeting quick. I shimmied the yoga pants down, stepped out and grabbed my jeans, hopping to get them on. I flung my sweater off, realizing I hadn't grabbed an under shirt. I opened the bathroom door, reaching my arm around the wall and into my room where a pile of clean clothes were stacked on my night stand by the door, grabbed a handful of clothes and pulled them into the bathroom. Thankfully, I'd grabbed a white tank top within the bunch and slipped that on. I started to barrel down the hall while inserting my arms into the sleeves of my blouse, buttoning it up as I went down the stairs. I approached my shoes, about to slip my feet in when I remembered my backpack was in my room. I grunted and trudged up the stairs, raced down the hall and swung around my door, bending down to grab my bag. It was like some forces were against me, forcing me to continue to face my room. And then it hit me – where would I sleep tonight? Ugh.
"I'm going to school!" I called out as I hopped down the stairs for the second time, slipping on a pair of black TOMS cordones, my keys jangling in my right hand.
"Oh, honey wait!" I could hear my mom's chair slide back against the tiled kitchen floor, then her slippers swish-swash as she appeared at the top of the stairs, facing the hallway to her right. "Lindsey, would you like Stella to give you a ride to school?" She hollered.
"No!" I moaned.
"If you're going to leave this early you can drive your sister to school. Come on, save me a trip." She pouted.
"Can't she take the bus?" I whined. My mom shook her head.
"She has this big poster board for a class presentation, she didn't want it to get wrecked on the bus."
"Fine, I'll take her." I sighed, stomping up the eight steps to top floor. I continued my stomp, although less audibly, to Lindsey's room.
"I'm almost ready." She said as I plopped down on her bed, watching as she twirled her finger around a few stray curls.
"What's your presentation on?" I asked, wary not to glance around the room at the plethora of Twilight merchandise – 90% of which was centered around Edward.
"The Great Gatsby. We had to pick a character out of a hat and then do a whole thing about them. I got Gatsby."
"Really? That's great. I bet a lot of people wanted Gatsby."
"Yeah, people kept trying to trade with me but I was like, no way. Even Sean had to step in as, like, my body guard to get people to lay off. Like, it's a stupid school project, not the answer to life's biggest questions, settle down." Lindsey rolled her eyes, then plucked a peachy-pink coloured lip gloss from a glass cup she'd decorated with sparkly fish stickers to hold all of her lip glosses and lip balms.
"How is Sean?" I asked, remembering she'd referred to him as worthy to be her new 'Edward'. At the thought, I glanced up at the calendar featuring Robert Pattinson's face. My eye narrowed in on the 17th box, the anniversary of the day I died, or Bella rather, and the day he left. I then zeroed in on today, the 23rd. Day six. Why does it feel like a thousand?
Lindsey slid the lip gloss wand back and forth across her bottom lip, crouching as she made quicker strokes, then pursed her lips and turned to face me, her face lit up in the biggest smile I'd ever seen dawn across her face.
"Oh-em-gee, he's just absolutely amazing!" She screeched. Suddenly her face relaxed and she bit down on her bottom lip. "I mean, you know, he's good, I guess." She began to turn around again. I realized she must think hearing about her happiness with a boy would make me upset and had to correct it immediately.
"Linds, you don't have to do that. I'm happy for you." I said, getting up to give her a hug. "You'll have to bring this Sean around for dinner sometime so I can meet him." Lindsey lit up again.
"Maybe you can when you drop me off! He usually meets me outside so we can walk to class together. Let's go!" She bent down to pick up her seizure-inducing sparkly backpack and pulled me by the arm, dragging me down the stairs and out the door to the car. I glanced to my left as Lindsey slammed the passenger's side door shut, noticing Jake behind a car parked down the street. I nudged my head to Lindsey waiting in the car as I walked around the back of the car. I pulled my phone out of my bag and texted him, telling him to follow but keep a safe distance so that she doesn't notice.
Lindsey and I were both silent as I drove down our street and then down Main street. I could feel Lindsey's stare every once in a while, only to see her hair bounce when she quickly reverted her gaze to the trees and houses passing by in a blur. She was fidgeting in her lap and her foot began to jiggle, shaking the car.
"Linds." I reprimanded.
"Sorry." She mumbled, ceasing the shaking immediately.
"Thank you."
"So..."
"So?"
"Can I ask you something? About, you know?"
I thought about it for a moment, unsure whether I was healed enough to handle a personal question about 'you know'. But maybe talking about it would help, and whatever it was obviously has Lindsey itching to ask.
"I guess." I answered.
"I know he moved away and everything, but, why didn't you try the long distance thing? I mean if you were really in love with him, wouldn't you, you know, try? To make it work?"
My eyes remained locked on the road, but my focus was elsewhere now. I didn't know how to answer, for her or for myself. I'd always told myself it was because it was right. But now I had to explain and, really, did I have any other explanation beyond that? Lindsey sat there, waiting for my answer, the uncomfortable silence looming over us.
"I – maybe I shouldn't have..." Lindsey began.
"No, it's okay. It's just a complicated situation, Lindsey. So complicated that sometimes it doesn't even make sense to me. I just know that the way it ended up was the way it was supposed to be. That's all I can give you right now. Maybe someday, when we're both older and wiser, I can try to explain. But for now, telling you it was just the right thing to do is the only way I can answer your question."
"I understand." Lindsey said, placing an assuring hand on my knee for a moment as I pulled into the parking lot of the school. "One more question?" She asked as I parked by the curb. I nodded. "You loved each other, right? Even in that short time?"
I smiled and nodded. "More than anyone could ever know, Linds. With all my heart."
"Good," She smiled, then turned to look out of the window at a boy standing by a round, concrete picnic table in the courtyard at the back of the school. He was tall, with brown shaggy hair that he began to shake out of his eyes. He noticed Lindsey in the car and waved, a wide smile spread across his face. "because I think I love him. It's just, we've only been together for a little over a week. But I've known him for years."
"Wait, Sean Pimbley? That kid who ate a tub of chocolate frosting at your thirteenth birthday party and then got sick in mom's rose bushes?"
"Yep, that's him." She sighed, obviously over the moon for the kid. I glanced over at him again, realizing he'd had a growth spurt but was still the same happy kid who just loved that cake frosting.
"Well, if there's one thing I've learned it's that love doesn't work on a time frame. There are no rules saying love can only happen after a certain date or that it ends on another. In fact, sometimes it never ends at all. As long as you know it in your heart, that's all you need." I winked, pushing her shoulder. "Now, go get 'em tiger." Lindsey laughed, falling out of the car. She got on her feet and bent down, turning to face me.
"You're welcome, by the way. You're coming back to us already. See, if I left you on that couch, who knows where you'd be."
"I'm eternally grateful to you." I laughed. "Bye!" I waved as she closed the door. She ran over to Sean, who picked her up and spun her around. She looked so happy, and so did he. And I realized, as she talked about Sean and how she felt, she hadn't once referred to him as Edward. And maybe she didn't need to, because to her he was her Edward. And I realized, the whole finding your own Edward thing didn't mean finding a fictional character in real life at all, it just meant finding someone you loved, someone who loved you back just as much – your other half. And then my eyes widened as I realized some of that Twilight crazy was actually making sense to me.
I pulled out of the school, noticing Jake to my left waiting by the curb. He began following directly behind me as I drove back to Main street, then to the university campus. In the student parking lot, I acquired a pretty decent spot since it was still a bit early. Jake snuck his bike in between my car and another, not worrying about rules since he wasn't staying, only long enough to ensure I went to class. We walked together down the line of cars and were about to cross over to where the next line of cars began when I heard honking and Jake pulled me back, staring daggers at the Volvo that zoomed past us. When I saw the silver letters on the trunk, something inside me cracked. For that moment, time just stopped and I was somewhere else, until I was staring at the pavement, blackened and wet from the light snow earlier this morning, that the Volvo had just screeched against as it turned out of the parking lot, leaving black tire marks in its wake. I shook my head and took in a deep breath, snapping back to reality. The Volvo, I realized, was black – obviously not his.
"Oh," I mumbled. Jake pushed a hand firmly on my back, forcing me to keep walking.
"You alright?" He asked, gently guiding me along. I nodded. "Some idiots shouldn't be given licences." He shook his head, blinking in disbelief. I just shrugged, anxiety starting to fill my lungs with each breath of bitter cold air. It was unusually cold for November, I thought, sending a shiver through my body. Jake noticed and put his arm around me, rubbing his hand up and down my arm to warm me. I glanced down at my hands, which were red, stiff and defenceless against winter's bite. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, but even the lining of them was cool. Getting inside now was my only goal, while also my biggest worry.
"Do you want me to come inside?" Jake asked as we reached the doors to the red-bricked, three storey building my class was in.
"I'll be okay from here." I said, noticing girls staring at Jacob and I as they passed us and went inside. I glanced around to catch people's eyes quickly reverting their gazes at trees, the sky or the ground, all of whom just seconds before were staring at Jake. And I guess I couldn't blame them because for one thing he's hot, and secondly, he was wearing a thin-looking, long sleeved black t-shirt with a v-neck and wasn't even so much as twitching as the cold snipped at his skin.
"Alright. Call me when you're done, maybe we can grab a bite." Jake slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocked back and forth on his heels, waiting for me to go in first.
"I will. And hey, it might be a good idea to grab a coat so people think you're freezing like the rest of us, and not insane to be wearing a t-shirt when it's negative two degrees Celsius." I raised my eyebrows at his unbothered state, as if it were merely a crisp 16 degrees instead of below freezing. At that, he shivered with an abnoxious 'brrrr', as if on cue. Most of the eyes were off of him, but some girls continued to stare. I sighed.
"What?" He asked. "It didn't make me seem cold enough, did it? Oh, brrrrr, I was crazy not to wear a jacket today!" He said, raising his voice so the people around could hear. I burst out laughing, and at that Jake continued with his charade, hunching his shoulders and shaking his body around. "I think I feel frost bite. Stella, I'm being frost bitten it's so cold!"
"We should get you inside, then." I said while holding my stomach from laughing. I opened one of the two brown painted doors and pushed him inside, his teeth bared as he laughed too, enjoying his moment.
"I think I was pretty convincing." He said, crossing his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging through the sleeves of his shirt.
"You'd be even more convincing with a coat!"
"Alright, alright, I'll put my coat on. I can't help it that I run hotter than everyone else. This is weather is like a cool breeze to me."
"It won't always be..." I looked away, remembering Jake's decision to stop being a wolf. Jake stepped closer to me. I tried to hide my sadness and my worries for what his decision meant, even if he still had another fifty years left. The point was that his time would run out and if I came back again after this life, he might not be here.
"Stella, I'm always going to be around." He said, as if reading my mind. "Right here," He pointed to my temple. "and right here." He poked his finger into my chest, over my heart.
"I guess, yeah." I nodded.
"I should go. Have a good class, alright?" Jake squeezed my shoulder, pivoted towards the door and finally left. I watched him from the window in the door until he was too far down the street to see anymore.
I turned, looking down the hall in front of me, then to the stairs to the right, feeling abandoned and vulnerable. It felt like it'd been ages since I've set foot in this building. It felt like the first day of class, with my stomach twisting and turning in anticipation for the unknown. I gulped and made my way up the stairs to the second floor. I then walked down the hall, my eyes on the beige tiled floor, with a soft red border that ran along the walls, trying to take my time since I was at least a half an hour early for class. When I reached room 233, I stood outside for a moment, hesitant to go in since some people were still in there. But retreating to the back of a class felt much better than standing out in the hallway alone, so I went inside. There were huddles of students here and there, leftovers from the previous class stopping to have a chat. Then there were others on their own, packing their things up or hurrying to copy down a note before quickly closing their books and scurrying out of class. I took to the steps on the left, closest to the door, going to the top row where I chose a seat in the middle.
I loved this room, with the plush swivel chairs and adequate desk space, since the desks were essentially just a long, narrow, black-top table with the chairs connected to it. Jessica usually let me take up a bit more room than people normally would, since I usually had a laptop, notebook and textbook out, while she only had her laptop to surf the net instead of paying attention. Shakespeare can get a little boring sometimes when the professor drones on and on, but it was still my favourite class all because of the swivel chairs. Normally I'd be swaying from left to right in the chair, enjoying the combination of comfort and glee. But today I just sat there, stagnant, staring at the empty seats below me. The room never felt bigger, especially as the people left over from the previous class trickled out. Suddenly, it was too quiet.
My knee bobbed up and down, my stomach churning. I could practically feel the wheels turn in my mind as unwanted thoughts forged their way in. Whispers filled my ears, becoming voices. "I was nothing before you. An entire century, meaningless. But then you..." I snapped my head to the right, expecting to see his lips there, his eyes gazing into mine longingly as they used to. I'd heard that line once before. Where? "If I had a soul at all, it would bare your face." It came from the left this time, sending prickling shivers down my spine. I began having thoughts I wasn't formulating myself, in a familiar voice – The moment I met you, it was like half of me detached itself and latched on to you. And I knew I could never live without you, because how could I go around being half a person? – and then a different voice – "So I'm a succubus? In all seriousness, Bella, I could never leave your side. I'd rather die first." I squeezed the bridge of my nose, as if that could keep me from going completely insane.
A tree branch, its leaves coloured dead and shrivelled still clinging to it, swayed just outside one of the long, narrow window panes on the other side of the room as if it were alive, waving at me. It felt like I was dropped into a horror movie. Time moved too slowly and I'd been alone for far too long. I was about to get up and leave when two chatty girls walked in, taking seats three rows below me. I settled back into my seat with a sigh, grateful not to be alone anymore.
Still, as I stared out of the window, at the tree branch which miraculously still clung to its leaves, I could feel his ghost surrounding me. I thought I was getting better, that I had begun to truly accept the situation. But then I see glimpses of his face, expressions I'd seen once, phrases I'd heard long ago, and I almost can't bare it. You'd think it'd be a blessing to remember now, to have these new scenes of him after he's long gone, but it's more of a torture than anything else. I can't put him to rest. And I wonder if this is how it is for him, if fleeting memories of us enter his mind unexpectedly, taunting him the further he gets. I wish I could take them away, make it better. I finger my phone in my pocket, almost tempted to call him, just to see where he is and if he's alright. But I knew that wasn't possible, no matter how much I thought I wanted to. This had to be a clean break, it wouldn't work any other way.
I remember when he tried to leave once, back then. It was only weeks after we'd first met. He wasn't in school for over a week and I thought it was my fault, that I was just that repulsive. But then he told me, months later, that he'd only tried to protect me from him, from the monster inside, but he just couldn't stay away. "You occupied every corner of my mind," he said, "I saw you everywhere, heard your voice, caught your sent – but it was never as good as the real thing. And I knew I had to come back. I'm already damned anyways, what have I got to lose? Besides you."
And now I know how it felt for him, to want something you know you shouldn't, to have the temptation of it haunt you everywhere you went. But we ignored all of the signs telling us not to pass go and collect $500 once before. We defied every law of nature, we aren't allowed to do it again. You can't always get what you want. And when you do, fate brings you back to life and makes you play by the rules everyone else has to follow, accepting average and only dreaming of extraordinary, never actually attaining it. It's why they call them dreams, I guess; they aren't reality. But when that fine line is breached, everything falls into chaos and the seemingly concrete notion of reality crumbles. It's time to get back to reality now. The problem is, once you've had the dream, how can mere reality ever be enough?
The room began to fill before my eyes, and the flow of students through the door grew in volume the closer it got to ten o'clock. Class was a little over half full when I noticed Mike walk in, Jessica trailing closely behind. Mike slowly made his way up the stairs, scanning the room for two seats next to each other as he did. I peered to my left, realizing the two empty seats there. I pretended not to see them, staring intently out the window, and hoped they wouldn't notice me. I knew it seemed mean, but I just knew if they saw me there would be questions I just didn't feel like answering – 'Tyler' questions. I didn't want to have to sit there and play along, I just wanted to forget.
"Oh my – Jess! Look!" Mike's loud whisper reached my ears, letting me know he spotted me. Jessica squealed and took the stairs two by two, causing a scene. Everyone turned back in their chairs to watch this crazy girl pummel me, wrapping her arms tightly around my shoulders while jumping up and down and shrieking. Mike laughed and tugged at her black wool coat, forcing her to sit down and get it together.
"Oh-em-gee, I can't believe you're here! We didn't think you'd come today. I'm so happy you're here, school just hasn't been the same without you! It's basically been like a slow, torturous death by boredom."
"Glad to see you, too, Jess." I said, attempting to give a genuine smile. So far so good. There was a dim, warm fuzzy feeling that began to build and I realized, I was kind of happy to see her too. It was the familiarity of her, the history behind her eyes and her smile, that made me feel a little less tense. I could remember happy moments with her, the laughs we shared and the inside jokes we'd created – all of it remnants of who I was, just Stella. And with that was a glimmer of hope, of my old self. I allowed myself to get lost in hope's tantalizing shimmer, letting it fill me to the brim with warmth until I overflowed and truly believed it would all be okay, that everything would go back to normal, as if Edward never happened. But when the noise level escalated and animated conversations erupted all around me, when Jessica turned her attention to Mike and letting my eyes drift elsewhere, the hope dwindled. My eyes drifted elsewhere, to an empty seat or the drops of water stuck to the window, to the way Mike looked at Jessica as she pulled her laptop out and typed in her password to unlock it, how her cheeks caught fire when she noticed his eyes on her, all of the longing and the emptiness seeped back into my bones. It's like a nasty cold, just when you think it's getting better, it comes back even worse.
Mike leaned back, reached behind Jessica and patted me on the arm, giving me a tight smile. And that's when I knew, underneath the smiles, the jumping and the happy-to-see-yous is a deep riverbed of pity with my name on it. I looked away, pretending to clear my throat. Jessica slapped Mike on the arm and scolded him in harsh whispers. Whispers seemed to be everywhere these days. Everyone's hiding things or treading carefully around me, not realizing how annoying and disconcerting it is. It's not like I hadn't noticed Frank Alderman, the son of Anthony Alderman, the lawyer whose office is next to my parents' bookstore, tilt his chin up to me then whisper into Heather Gilbert's ear. She worked at the grocery store, we see her whenever we check out our groceries every week. There were the guys who winked, thinking I was bruised and easy, or the girls who pouted and felt sorry, the ones who gave cautious looks because they thought I was crazy. Maybe I missed the spotlight over me or something, because the more I noticed it, the more it seemed that everyone's attention was on me. It made my blood boil in my veins because they all made assumptions about me, right in front of me, when they knew nothing about me or the situation I'm in. It was like gaining a reputation after being falsely accused of murder, the accusation haunting you wherever you go, even though it's not true.
Beside me, Jessica closed her laptop and pulled out her notebook and a pen, then folded her hands over them. I was shocked to see pages of blank pages and a pen at the ready in front of her, as if she actually paid attention in class now. Her forefinger began to twitch, then moved to the corner of her notebook, pulling back the pages and releasing them, repeating the process over and over. She was just itching to say something. Watching her nervously fidget over it was awkward, since I knew whatever she wanted to say was about me and the fact that Edward left and how I've been MIA lately. And I knew if she asked I couldn't tell her the entire truth. She'd never truly understand. Nobody would. I'll always be living in the shadows of secrets, even when I move past this and live a normal life, it'll always be there to haunt me when I go to sleep at night.
The professor walked in, hushing the class and bringing Jessica's fidgeting to a halt. He carried a black briefcase in one hand and a folder with papers in the other and wore a crisp, silver suit, along with the look of experience and prestige on his face. His hair gleamed against the fluorescent lighting, accenting his jet black, gelled curls. Professor Burke placed his things on the desk at the front, adjusted his mic and proceeded to address the class.
"Alright, good morning. I'm going to take care of some housekeeping first and then we'll get into lecture. I've graded your papers on Sonnet 18, which we will be discussing today. You can retrieve your paper at the end of class. No doubt it would be a cattle stampede if I were to distribute them now. The midterm exam is next Wednesday, that's a week from today folks. The format will be posted on our class website. I've given a list of twenty terms, of which you'll be asked to define ten on the exam. However, if you've attended class you'll know which to study and which to ignore. If not, best of luck to you. I've also provided the essay questions that will appear on the exam." Everyone around me erupted into a boom of cheers, clapping and hooting at this great news. I, however, was left shaking at the idea of this exam. Suddenly the pressure seemed like too much to handle. The dreaded feeling of failure began to weigh its heavy hands on my shoulders.
"Okay, that's enough. Come on, guys." Professor Burke held his hands up in the air to get the class to calm down. "Obviously, Sonnet 18 harbours one of Shakespeare's most famous lines," Professor Burke approaches a girl in the front row, raking his hand through his thick, black tufts of curls. The girl's blonde curls fall down her back like water flowing down a stream, seemingly quivering under the young professor's gaze. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate." The girl turns to her friend and reveals the blush on her cheek, visible even from where I was sitting. "Fellas, use that one on your lady friends and your guaranteed a good night." The professor said, walking back and nodding with triumph.
"What a sleaze. You know he and Jenna are hooking up, right?" Jessica whispers, nodding to the blonde in the front that Burke just serenaded. I shrug and keep my attention at the front of the class.
"A lot of you chose to analyze the first stanza, which was to be expected. Only a few decided to take on the second half. Some of you focused on the use of season, others on youth and beauty influencing Shakespeare's love or a person's worth. But one brave soul took the last line and tore it apart, making for quite an interesting read. This student tackled the idea of immortality, of literature's role in letting its subjects and authors live forever. It was quite an awesome connection. Even people who haven't read a lick of our dear William, or who aren't a fan, know the famous lines at the beginning of Sonnet 18 and are aware of who wrote it. In making his muse live forever young in his sonnet, Shakespeare has also secured his own infinite existence. Expanding this to literature as a whole, it's interesting how the written word has the power of immortality. It's the key to living forever. If any of you keep journals or diaries, congratulations, you're immortal."
I leaned back as the professor's last words repeated themselves in my mind. 'Keep a journal, you're immortal.' I've never kept a journal. I tried, but I never got past writing down the date and my name on the first page, along with 'this is private, do not read' on the inside cover. I'd never given much thought to my promise to Edward, of finding a way to live forever with him other than his way. I never thought it would come to that. I figured he'd move on, maybe even forget about it. But now, knowing there's a way, I couldn't ignore it. I will live forever for Edward, and I think I've just figured out how.
The rest of class was a distant haze. I spent it thinking of how I would go about this immortality. What would I do first? How would I get it to him? Would he understand it? Would he accept it? I noticed people rising, packing their things and huddling by the front of the class, where papers were spread out along the table of the first row. I waited with Jessica and Mike until most of the class cleared out, avoiding the crowd. When only a handful of students remained, we decided to make our way to the front and pick up our papers. I didn't even remember if I wrote this one or not.
"When did we do these?" I asked Jessica.
"I know right. It was due the second week of classes and he's just getting them back to us now, I almost forgot about them it's been so long." I nodded, realizing I did write it since it was just before Edward showed up.
I searched through the remaining papers, but couldn't see mine. Professor Burke stood behind the desk, packing things up in his briefcase.
"Uh, excuse me, Professor Burke?"
"Yup?"
"My paper isn't up there, I was wondering if you still had it?"
"Name?"
"Stella Swift."
"Ah, Stella! Nice to put a face to the name. Yes, I have your paper." He said, reaching into his briefcase, revealing the crisp white sheets marked with a black 'A' on the top left corner of the title page which read, 'Sonnet 18: A Vessel for William Shakespeare's Immortality'.
"Great work. You're thinking outside of the box with solid arguments."
"Me?" I mumbled, dumbfounded.
"Yes, you." Burke laughed. "See you Monday." He slapped his briefcase shut and exited out the door on the right.
"How'd you do?" Jess asked.
"Obviously she did awesome, he talked about your paper for half the class." Mike butted in.
"That was yours? Way to go, Stel!"
"Yeah, I...yeah."
"You seem surprised." Mike chuckled.
"I just wasn't expecting an A, I guess..." I lied.
"Sure you weren't." Mike said, raising an eyebrow.
We began walking out of the classroom and down the stairs to the entrance of the building together since we all had the same section of 'later British literature' next. Outside, I turned right and continued down the street to the building our next class was in, while Mike and Jessica turned left. I stopped, confused. Jessica realized I wasn't with them, turned around and ran after me.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Um, going to class." I said matter-of-factly. Jessica grinned and shook her head.
"Please, you missed weeks of classes already, and everyone knows you can get an A in that class from just reading the text book. Come out with us." She insisted.
"I don't know. I've missed so much already, I kind of just want to go to class before the midterm." Saying I wanted to go to class left a sour taste in my mouth, especially since now I'd be facing it alone. Jessica opened her mouth in protest, then stopped herself, releasing the air in her lungs before nodding and giving up. It was unlike her. When Jessica wanted something she usually fought for it. It was strange to see her forfeit so easily.
"Alright, well, just take care, okay?" Jessica stepped forward and reached her arms around me. "I love you, Stel ma belle."
I laughed. "Is that one of Mike's many variations of my name?"
"Yep, I borrowed it. He wanted a new one for when you came back, don't tell him I stole it." She said, raising her finger to her lips as she backed away. "See ya!" she called back as she linked arms with Mike and continued on their way towards their cars.
I sighed, standing in the middle of the sidewalk with my hands in my pockets, looking in the direction of the building I needed to get to, then in the opposite direction where Mike and Jess were no longer visible since they turned the corner. Someone coughed behind me, forcing me to look to the right again. I stepped out of the way, letting a guy in a letterman's jacket pass by. I had a few minutes to get to class, minutes I played with as I teetered between going to class and skipping. Jessica was right, I'd missed so much already, and as long as I did the readings I could easily ace that class. But the midterm was coming up and if I didn't go I could miss the review, and our professor for later British literature never updated the class website.
I groaned, leaning up against a light post as I weighed my options. The journal idea popped into my mind again. I knew it was the perfect way to conserve myself forever, but I was never the diary type, I had no idea where to start. What would I say? Will it be autobiographical or chronological? I imagined myself opening a book to a crisp, new page and writing his name down. All I could think of saying to him right now was that I loved him and that I missed him. But that said nothing of my life. How do people do it, just write page after page about themselves? I realized then that I had an entire anthology of journals at my disposal at my parents' bookstore. Dad was always buying journals, all old, cracked and dirty, belonging to random people who lived in different times. He's fascinated with life a century ago – not the history or the facts, but the actual life of it all, the people, the language, the culture, things you could only know about from someone who was there in the middle of it all. That's what I wanted to give to Edward, a window into the parts of my life he can't be here for, making it almost as if he were there with me. I wanted to reach out from the binding and pull him into my world. And whenever he missed me or wanted to be with me, he could flip to a page and read, bringing me to life just for him. But when I tried to imagine myself sitting down, trying to put pen to paper, nothing good would come out.
I pulled out my phone to call my Dad, when I couldn't remember his number for the life of me. I pulled up my contacts when I saw Alice's name. It would be so easy to call her, just to see what was going on over there, wherever 'there' was for them now. Alice wasn't off limits, I wasn't trying to move on from her, we weren't the ones who needed the clean break. Maybe it would be okay to talk to her, to get the inside scoop. The idea of calling Alice settled in with me until I was convinced of it, that it would be fine and I could easily delete the number from my phone afterwards and move on, that I just needed to know if Edward was okay. I dialled the number, waiting to hear ringing only to be met with a woman's voice informing me that the line was no longer in service. I held the phone to my ear, stunned by this recent discovery. Maybe she just hadn't charged her phone. But I knew that wasn't true, as much as I wished it to be. We were truly disconnected. I wish I'd never become aware of it.
I scrolled down the contacts list, finding Dad, and pressed 'call' as I began walking down the street, away from the building where my class was being held.
"Y'ello!" My dad answered with the sound of shuffling in the background.
"Dad, what are you doing?" I asked.
"Oh, just moving some boxes from the back of the shop. I've got a guy here interested in some old encyclopaedias. Remember those big, green, leather bound ones? They finally get to see the light of day!" His voice erupted into a gleeful chuckle. He just loved it when books found homes. We were the humane society of books.
"That's really great, Dad. Listen, I was wondering if you had old journals laying around? I wanted to take a look, get a feel for life back in the day, any period really."
"Sure, you know we've got a good collection. I'll get 'em out for ya. Jim Crowley just brought some in, actually. He sold the old Crescent Manor to some people who want to turn it into an inn. Anyway, they – yep they're beauties" His voice sounded far away as he spoke to a customer. "They found some dusty books in the basement, brought 'em in without really giving them a good look through. I haven't even read them yet, he just brought the box by this morning. Only had time to open one up and see the words 'Dear Harold' written on the first line."
"Harold?"
"Yep. Jim says they're from the early 1900s. I'm guessing this Harold was one of the fellows in the war. Just come by the shop, I've got to dust these books off."
Dad hung up before I could say goodbye. I hadn't realized that my pace quickened or that I'd even crossed the street, yet there I was in the parking lot. I pivoted my foot as I walked around the back of my car and slipped, slapping my hand on the trunk to keep myself from hitting the ground. My right leg was folded underneath me, while my left leg shot length-wise underneath the car. I caught my breath and pulled myself up, shaken by the unexpected fall. I pulled my coat down and kept my hand on the car, taking careful steps towards the driver's side door.
A/N: Sorry to cut it here, guys, but it's the best I could do! Hoping to get the next part up next week. Thanks again for hanging in there :) 3