An Introduction to Swirl and Daisy: The Non-Romantic Romance

Beta: xsecretxkeeperx

Chapter 21: The First Time He Failed

. . .

The next few weeks did not go the way Jasper had foretold. While the Spartan baseball team showed vast improvement from the first practice, the majority of the team still couldn't hit more than the occasional foul ball or pop fly. Edward had yet to hit even that.

Then there were the fielding errors, like when Edward threw the ball to Mike Newton and, instead of getting it anywhere near his mitt, hit Mike right in the shin. In all fairness to Edward, he might have been aiming at Mike's leg, since he still hadn't forgiven him for the crude comments he'd made about me last year. Apparently neither had Charlie, who congratulated Edward on the amazing throw, then turned to Mike (who was hopping up and down on one foot in agony) and told him to knock off the theatrics and try harder to catch the ball next time.

I could tell Charlie was growing anxious as the first game drew nearer. He wasn't a bad coach. As a matter of fact, he was excellent, and he held the respect of every member on the team. But not even Dumbledore could transform a muggle into a magician in five weeks.

Edward, on the other hand, was unfazed by the team's general lameness. "According to Jasper, a recent study says newcomers are more likely to make unexpectedly great plays. So come game time, the team has nothing to worry about," he'd say.

As far as practices went, Alice continued to show up and I continued to ignore her (unless she had something interesting to say). The laptop the Cullens had given me for Christmas became my saving grace. I brought it to the stadium with me and worked on MyT-Spot projects while Edward and Charlie were at practice. It allowed me time to experiment with some of the graphics and web software Edward had installed on the computer, so I didn't have to focus too much on what was happening on the field. I was already nervous enough without the daily reminder of how bad the team was.

"Hello, beautiful," Edward greeted me after practice let out the Thursday before the first game. He sat on the bleacher behind me and playfully kissed my forehead.

I snuggled back into him. I loved how Edward smelled after practice. Any other girl would say he was sweaty and gross, but to me he smelt raw and manly. It made me want to jump him. "Hello, handsome. How was practice?"

Edward shrugged. "Okay, I guess. With the game in two days, Coach is working us hard. It could have gone better, but that seems to be true with every practice."

"That's how it goes every year," Jasper said with a dismissive wave, choosing to sit next to me on the bench. I didn't like his smell nearly as much as Edward's. "But don't worry. The first game kicks everyone into high gear. It's going to be fine."

"What are you working on?" Edward asked, glancing at my laptop screen.

"Just MyT-Spot stuff. I'm thinking of adding some new features to the site." I couldn't wait to show him some of the things I had come up with. His mind would be thoroughly blown, I was sure of it.

"You know, Jasper actually has some ideas for merchandise," Edward said, smiling brightly.

"That's nice," I said, uninterested. "Well, Edward and I better get going. We have loads of work to do tonight." I closed my laptop and stuffed it into my backpack. "You ready to go?"

"Actually," Jasper spoke before Edward could, "we were all thinking of grabbing pizza. Even Coach is coming, and you're invited, as well."

"I don't think so," I said, looking at Edward. "We have a lot of work to do…"

"Oh, come on, don't you ever take a night off?" Jasper asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact. We've hardly worked on MyT-Spot since baseball season started."

"But this is important! It's the night before the night before our first baseball game! We have to bond!" Jasper said.

"Fine, if Edward wants to go, he can," I said. "I'm not his mother. It's not like he needs my permission."

"I wasn't suggesting that he did."

"Hello, Edward is sitting right here," Edward spoke up. "And Edward is not going unless Bella goes."

Ha! I felt the sudden desire to let out a victorious roar at his words. Take that Jasper Whitlock!

"However," Edward said, "I would really like to go out with the rest of the team. What do you say we work on MyT-Spot over the weekend instead of tonight?"

He looked so hopeful; I couldn't let him down. My ideas would have to wait and so would my roar of victory.

. . .

Chatter about the looming baseball game filled the halls of Forks High the next day at school. People speculated about how good or bad the team would be and whether we had a fighting chance of repeating the championship win from last year. I kept my mouth firmly shut. They could decide for themselves tomorrow.

Edward appeared to be handling the pressure quite well for how inexperienced he was at it all. Whenever I asked him if he was doing okay, he always said he had a few nerves, but nothing out of the ordinary. Then he'd quote something Jasper had told him about how great they were going to be despite how they performed in practice. Whenever he said something like that, I bit my tongue. Edward had convinced himself that everything was going to be fine at tomorrow's baseball game. I didn't want to be the one to rain on his parade.

His nerves did seem to be manifesting in other ways, though. He'd suddenly developed a compulsion to keep his backpack as neat and tidy as possible. He'd already reorganized it three times during our morning classes. It was on our way to lunch, when he spotted something wrong with my backpack and tried to fix it, that I finally had enough.

"Edward, what's wrong?" I asked, gripping his hand to stop him from messing with my backpack pockets.

"Some of your mechanical pencils are poking out through the zipper," he answered. "It makes them susceptible to sticky fingers."

"That's not what I mean and you know it. Right now, the least of my worries is my pencils being stolen. What's really wrong?" That was when I saw the first crack in Edward's perfectly constructed confidence. "You're nervous about tomorrow, aren't you?"

"A few nerves are good before a game. Jasper says so," he said on auto-pilot.

"But that's not what you're feeling right now, is it? This isn't a few nerves." Though his face was a practiced calm, his eyes betrayed him. He was terrified.

Edward didn't get a chance to respond, since Jasper chose that very inopportune moment to walk up to us. "Hey, buddy! Where're you going?"

"To our lunch table," Edward said. "Aren't you coming?"

"Actually the day before a game, it's tradition that the team sits together." Jasper jerked his head toward a couple tables in the cafeteria that had been pulled together. "It's all about comradeship and team spirit. You have to sit with us. I saved you a seat next to me."

Edward shook his head uncertainly. "But Bella…"

"Bella understands," Jasper said. "Don't you, Bella? The coach thinks it's a great idea, and we all know great minds think alike." He winked.

I opened my mouth to reply (though I wasn't sure what I could say to that), but Jasper had already thrown his arm over Edward's shoulder. "So you nervous about the game tomorrow?" he asked, leading Edward over to the team's table… away from me.

"Uh, yeah. A bit," Edward said distantly, throwing a regretful glance back in my direction.

"I'm telling you, it's going to be completely different tomorrow. Once the adrenaline kicks in, you're going to be unstoppable. You're going to be fuckin' Babe Ruth. Trust me."

It was like a tug of war. Edward was the rope, Jasper my opponent, and I was losing my grip.

. . .

"I'm going to Avada Kedavra whoever this is," I said groggily into the phone. Who the hell had the audacity to call my house at 6:30 AM on a Saturday?

"I can't do this!"

I jerked up, immediately alert. "Edward? What's going on?"

"You were right. Of course you were. It isn't just nerves. I could barely sleep last night because I was so worried about the game. And let's admit it, I'm not that good. And what if the adrenaline doesn't kick in and I still suck in front of the entire school? And what if I let the entire team down when they need me most? And there's something else. It's a bad omen. I know it is. I just know it."

"What do you mean by an omen?" I asked, trying to keep up with his panicked ramblings.

"A pimple. I woke up with a pimple the size of a watermelon right on my cheek. I never get pimples. You know I have a fairly spotless complexion as far as teenage boys go. And there it is, smack-dab in the middle of my cheek. The size of a mongoose egg, I tell you! It's a sign. It's a sign that today is going to be a very bad day."

"Edward, calm down. Take a couple deep breaths," I said, breathing deeply myself. Edward had never been so agitated and it was freaking me out.

He did as I requested and seemed calmer when he talked again. "What am I going to do?"

"Right now, keep yourself from hyperventilating. I'll be there in thirty minutes, okay?"

"Okay."

I hopped out of bed and grabbed a t-shirt and jeans from my dresser. "And Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Please hurry."

Charlie was already awake, or rather still awake, since it looked like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He was in the kitchen having a cup of coffee while he looked over baseball plays. Probably guessing the reason, he dropped everything when I told him I needed to get to the Cullen's.

The drive was tense. Charlie tried to make conversation, but I wasn't in the mood to talk to him. I was worried about Edward and a small part of me blamed my dad for this whole mess. I didn't even wait until the car was fully parked before jumping out and, without bothering to knock, running up to Edward's bedroom. He was sitting in his computer chair with his head between his legs, already wearing his baseball uniform.

"Edward?" I said, running over to him. He looked up at me and a gasp fell from my lips.

Holy shit, that was a huge zit.

"I'm so sorry," I said, kneeling in front of him. "Does it hurt?"

Edward chuckled bleakly. "It's a pimple, not a bullet wound."

"Well, fortunately, I came prepared." I reached into my purse and pulled out a bottle of concealer.

He looked at me in horror. "You want me to wear make-up?"

"Oh, don't be such a drama queen. You had to wear make-up for the play last year. It's not that big of a deal."

"That was completely different and you know it."

"Well, it's either this or you can walk around all day looking like you have a third eye."

Edward grudgingly gave in. "Fine. But I thought you got rid of all this stuff in eighth grade."

I put a dab of the concealer onto an applicator. "I got rid of some of it, but this is damn useful when I need to cover up a blemish."

"You never have blemishes," he mumbled, lifting his hand and caressing my cheek.

"That's because I do a good job," I said. "So trust me."

"I'd trust you with my life."

I smiled and started applying the concealer. "Tell me about what's going on. Besides the zit."

"I feel like everyone expects me to do so great. I hate disappointing people…"

How could I say this diplomatically? "I don't think they have high expectations of you, so much as they're trying to make you feel better."

"Wow, thanks."

"Well, what do you want me to say? The last thing you need is another person telling you how great you're going to be," I said. "The fact is, you might be great or you might suck or you might fall somewhere in between. But you can't go out there playing for anyone other than yourself. Even if they do have high expectations, who cares? This is about you, not them."

"You see, I know you're right. I know it. But I think it's one of those things that's easier said than done."

"Yeah, kind of like covering up this zit."

"How's it looking?"

"Horrible," I said honestly. So much concealer was needed that the already gigantic zit now looked like a smaller version of Mount Everest. "I think it's time to abandon this and go to Plan B."

"Which is what?" he asked as I dug in my purse.

"War paint." I held up a tube of Eye Black. I had planned to give it to him after the game today as a congratulatory gift, but now seemed like the right time. "Do you want it under one eye or both?"

Edward was looking at the bottle skeptically. "What do you think?"

"One eye is a fashion statement. Both eyes has more to do with the practical application of keeping the sun out of your eyes."

"We live in Forks. There is no sun," Edward said.

"Then a fashion statement it is." I took the cap off the tube. "Do you want to do it or do you want me to?"

"You, of course. And just so you know, I'm not exactly cool enough to pull it off."

"Tell the guys it was your girlfriend's way of wishing you good luck." I lifted the tube and smeared a black line across his cheek. It covered his pimple perfectly and gave him a sort of rogue, badass look (which was weird, since he was Edward). "There," I said happily. "It's perfect. Have a look."

He walked over to the vanity mirror above his dresser and burst out laughing the second he caught a glimpse of himself.

"What is so funny?" He didn't look bad at all.

"I realized… Bella, you spent the last ten minutes touching up a pimple on my face without so much as a second thought. You must love me."

. . .

In spite of all of Jasper's predictions of adrenaline and Babe Ruth grandeur, the game was not going well for the rest of the team. Naturally, Jasper excelled and every time he stepped up to the plate, the crowd went wild. I sat there, grating my teeth dangerously and trying not to jeer as he waved and posed to the masses like some kind of superstar.

"That kid is going somewhere," I heard an older man say to his cohort from behind me. "He's got talent."

He'd said that at least twenty times in the past seven innings and it was slowly driving me crazy. More of the town's population had shown up for the game than I expected. The bleachers were overflowing, and I was scrunched between Carlisle and Angela on the first row. Lawn chairs and picnic blankets were procured for those people who couldn't fit in the stands. The town's people were interested in seeing what the Chief of Police could do with the Fork's High baseball team. So far, people were disappointed and they weren't quiet in voicing their remonstration.

Every time one of the less than superior batters walked up to the plate, the crowd would make an audible groaning noise. Unfortunately, Edward was amongst those they had deemed abysmal, and I prayed he wasn't able to hear their objections from down on the field.

"Not this kid again," the man behind me said. "I tell you, only made the team because he's the Chief's daughter's boyfriend."

That was it. I whipped around. "You better watch it."

"Oh, hello, Miss Swan," the man greeted, nonplussed. I recognized him as Officer Stevens. "I didn't recognize you there with your little baseball hat."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, irritated by his condescending tone. "Just watch what you're saying, buddy."

Officer Stevens looked stunned that I had the nerve to speak to him like that. "Now, Miss Swan, I've worked with your father for a long time, and I know Edward from the office," he said, as if those facts alone trumped my being the Chief's daughter and Edward's girlfriend. "I think I know what I'm talking about."

"Like you knew what you were talking about when you told my father you thought my boyfriend was gay?"

He snorted. "Oh, yeah, and guys with girlfriends never come out of the closet."

My eyes narrowed. "I may look small and scrawny, but my father taught me how to punch like a mother fu—"

"Now, now, Bella. Let's not threaten and insult the fastidious police officer who's possibly armed," Carlisle said, putting an arm around my shoulder and turning me so I was looking at the field again.

"Did you hear what he said?" I asked indignantly.

"Yes, and it makes me as mad as it makes you, but there's no reason to exacerbate the situation."

"I dare him to arrest me," I said loudly. "I dare him to lay one freaking finger on me."

"Edward needs us now." Carlisle nodded toward the field. He was right; Edward was standing stiffly over the plate. I took a deep breath and let it out, praying that this would be the one for him. We were losing thirteen to four and the only reason we had the few runs we did was because of Jasper. We already had two outs, so I knew Edward was feeling the pressure.

He raised his bat shakily and took his stance. The pitch was thrown. He swung and missed.

"Strike one!" the umpire shouted and the crowd grumbled.

"It's all right, Edward!" I called, hoping he could hear me over the hisses and catcalls. "You're doing fine!" Stevens scoffed from behind me.

Edward didn't swing at the second pitch, though it was within his strike zone.

"Strike two!" pierced the air, loud and clear.

"Edward, it's fine!" Carlisle and Angela shouted with me this time.

"Wait for your pitch!" I added.

Edward glanced up nervously in our direction. I gave him an encouraging smile and swiped a finger across my right cheek. It was exactly where his own line of Eye Black rested and I hoped he knew I was sending him good luck.

He nodded and turned back to the pitcher, raising his bat once more.

Something caught my attention in the corner of my eye, and I looked down to see Charlie staring peculiarly at me from the dugout. I gave him the best smile I could. He only managed a grimace in return, then turned back to the game.

When the third strike was called, I wasn't watching Edward. I was still studying my father. His gaze flitted to the ground for a long moment, and when he looked back up, his face held no disappointment for Edward. In its stead there was sorrow and guilt, as if he felt he had failed Edward and the team as a coach. My heart ached for him almost as much as it did for my boyfriend. Sometimes I took for granted how much Charlie meant to me.

My attention was immediately brought back to the game when a gruff voice shouted from the crowd, "There goes the no-hitter!" as Edward walked back to the dugout. Though I'm sure no one else caught the way Edward infinitesimally paused and hung his head, I knew he had heard. I felt tears sting my eyes.

Charlie clapped Edward on the shoulder as he entered the dugout and whispered a few words. Edward nodded and took his seat on the bench, burying his head in his hands. I couldn't take much more of this, and from the looks of it, neither could Edward. I only prayed it would be over soon.

The last two innings passed quickly and Edward mercifully hadn't had to take the bat again. He'd even managed to catch a fly ball from his position on second base, ending the eighth inning, but I could see it didn't do anything to lighten his spirits from the appalling final score of 14-5.

Carlisle, Angela, and I sat stagnant in our seats as the crowd dispersed and the disillusioned Forks Spartan team filed into the locker room for their post-game pep talk. I wondered what Charlie would say to them.

There was barely anyone left in the bleachers when Carlisle spoke. "So, Bella, who do you want to take?"

"Edward." He needed me more right now.

"Why did I even ask?" He smiled good-humouredly. "I'll go talk to Charlie. He'll be in his office after the locker room pep-talk?"

I nodded. "We'll meet you there."

Angela and I headed to the locker room and leaned against the fence as we waited. One by one the boys emerged, all appearing browbeaten and demoralized. We lingered for several minutes, and when neither Jasper nor Edward exited, I started to get worried.

Just as I was about to knock down the door, Jasper appeared. "He's in rough shape. I'd stay, but my mom's waiting."

I tried to repress the small surge of victory that I was going to be the one to comfort Edward. It was, after all, my job to do so as his girlfriend. "I got this one," I said, opening the door.

"Uh, Bella, that's the boy's locker room."

"So?" I asked, daring Jasper to try and stop me.

He shrugged. "It's empty besides Edward. Go on in."

I tried to hide my eye roll. As if I needed his permission. Upon entering the room, I saw Edward sitting rigidly on a locker room bench. He was still in his baseball uniform, staring down blankly at his hands.

"How're you doing?" I asked.

"I don't get it," he said after a moment. "I have played video games my entire life. And yet, when it comes to baseball, my hand-eye coordination is non-existent."

"Well, maybe baseball isn't something that can be learned by video games."

"I don't get it," Edward repeated.

I sat next to him. The devastated way in which Edward's shoulders slumped and his voice cracked broke my heart, and I didn't know what I could say to make him feel better. "At least you're not the worst person on the team."

Edward snorted. "How do you figure?"

"Did you see Mike miss that easy catch in right field? He wasn't paying attention and it fell down about three feet in front of him. I thought Charlie was going to burst a blood vessel! And Tyler! My God, he actually threw a baseball over the first baseman's head and into the crowd."

"Yeah, I suppose…" he said, not sounding convinced.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but the entire team kind of blows," I said. Then added as a disappointed afterthought, "Well, except for Jasper, of course." Edward looked shocked, as if that thought had never crossed his mind before. "And you, you're actually a decent second baseman compared to the rest of the team. As for batting, you just need to find the right motivation."

"Jasper says that. I've tried all sorts of things. Like imagining that my bat is a sword and the baseball is the head of a Uruk-hai," Edward said seriously. "And still… nothing."

I smiled. "I know Lord of the Rings makes your heart tick, but maybe it isn't the right thing."

"That isn't what makes me heart tick."

"Then what is?" I asked, wracking my brains for his other passions.

He looked at me, then, in such an incredulous, yet intense and loving manner, I thought it would pierce my heart.

"Oh, right," I said stupidly.

He was silent for several long moments. "Can I admit something to you?"

"Of course. You know you can tell me anything."

"But this is something horrible."

"It's all right. Tell me."

He took a deep breath. "I imagined that you were being attacked by the Urak-hai baseball, and I still couldn't hit it."

Dear Lord, I tried not laughing, but how could I not? "Oh my God, Edward! I love you so much, you have no idea," I choked through my giggles.

"Bella! This is serious! I feel like I failed you."

"No, Edward." I smiled, grabbing both his hands and moving so I was kneeling on the ground in front of him. "You could never, ever fail me. I feel so lucky that out of every girl in the school you chose me."

Edward was shaking his head. "No, you chose me—"

"Shut up. This is my pep talk." I smirked, happy to see that he was now fighting a smile. "As I was saying, I feel so lucky and so blessed that you chose me, out of everyone, to share your life with. And the fact that you're trying all these new and different things is amazing! Even if you aren't the best at them, it doesn't mean that you failed me or Charlie or Jasper or anyone, or even that you failed at all. It inspires me that you're even trying. That's what's important."

He let out a breath. "How can I ever express what you mean to me?"

"You somehow manage to every day, even if you don't know it."

He shook his head sadly. "No, I don't think I do. I don't think I can." He let that rest between us before giving my hands a squeeze and saying, "I need a couple minutes."

It hurt that Edward wanted to be by himself, especially after what I felt had been a superb pep talk (certainly much better than anything Jasper could have come up with). "I understand you need to be alone. I'll see you soon."

He looked at me in surprise. "It's not that I don't want you here," he said. "Trust me, just looking into your beautiful brown eyes makes me feel a million times better, but I have to change out of my uniform before we can go home."

Oh. Edward was about to get undressed. Something tingled in my stomach and my cheeks grew warm… only it wasn't out of embarrassment or any other emotion I was familiar with.

Edward. Undressed.

Edward. Naked.

Edward. Nude.

"I'll wait for you outside," I squeaked, now desperate to remove myself from the locker room.

"And Bella?" Edward called. I looked back him. "I'm going to be fine. I promise. Don't worry, okay?"

Nope. "Sure."

Angela was still leaning against the fence when I exited. "How's he doing?"

"Thoroughly disappointed, I think."

She didn't answer, but what was there to say? I stewed in my thoughts and realized how shaken the sight of Edward distraught had made me. Why was this so hard for me? I could take rejection, public humiliation or degradation, practically anything, and survive. But seeing Edward so defeated and sad was killing me—it was tearing me up from the inside out.

"This is all Jasper's fault!" I said.

"How do you figure?" Angela asked cautiously.

"I mean, if he hadn't… if he hadn't practically forced Edward to join the baseball team, then given him false hope that he'd immediately be brilliant at a game he'd never played before, Edward wouldn't be suffering right now." Angry tears sprung into my eyes as I ranted to my best friend. "God, and it's my fault, too, because I was the one who tried to change Edward in the first place. I was the one who forced him to sit through all those lunches and meet new guys. It was all me. It's entirely my fault. I'm so stupid."

"No, you aren't," Angela said, rubbing my back. "You did what you thought was best and it was the right thing to do."

"It wasn't," I said stubbornly. "I wish I could take it all back. I wish I could jump in a time machine and go back to the day they met and prevent it from happening. Why can't I do that?"

"Because it's impossible."

"It's not that hard!" I said. "It's just breaking down molecules and reestablishing them in another place and time!"

Angela tried hard to suppress a laugh at my absurd statement, I could tell, but suddenly we were both giggling so hard we couldn't stop. It took several moments for us to regain composure.

"Oh, Merlin's beard," I said, wiping the tears off my face. "I'm getting too old for this kind of nonsense."

"You're fifteen," Angela said. "This is exactly the kind of nonsense you should be worrying about."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Seriously, though, do you really wish you could take it back?" she asked.

"Some days, yes. Some days, no. I don't know, to be honest."

"Do you feel like Edward's replaced you?"

"Absolutely not." That was one thing I was sure of. "You can't replace what we have. But beyond that, I can't figure out what the problem is. I like Jasper and I appreciate that he makes Edward happy… but I cannot stand him," I admitted.

Angela thought about it for a second. "Jasper's energy is concentrated on Edward. I think it's kind of like how Edward used to be with you before Jasper came along."

"You think Jasper is gay?" The thought had crossed my mind…

"Heavens, no," Angela said. "He doesn't have that vibe. Jasper has had a lot of friends, but I don't think he's ever had a best friend. It's an anomaly to him and I think that's why he's so determined to make their friendship something special."

"That makes sense." I nodded along with her theory. "But his efforts are backfiring. He needs to let Edward live his life, just like I do." I realized, then, that Jasper needed a hobby. Baseball season would have provided that, but then he dragged Edward into it. What Jasper needed was a distraction he could have that Edward couldn't. What Jasper needed was a…

It was like fate how Alice jumped out of the stands at the precise moment I had thought it, as if she knew exactly what I was about to say.

Oh, fuck it.

"What Jasper needs is a girlfriend."