CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
For the next week I occupied myself with the cars and helping Esme, and even going to town with her. Esme let my forwardness slide with her, but after a couple of days grew suspicious. I closed myself easily, already holding that skill when it came to Edward, but soon she grew restless. I knew she would.
"He's trying Rosalie. He just wants to know you," she said as she fixed sandpapering a table. We were in the living room, near the open window.
"How do you know that?" I whispered to her, my eyes downcast. My lips barely parted as I said the words, my hair falling in front of my face. My fingertips traced the smooth surface of the table Esme had made on her own.
She hesitated, putting the sandpaper down and staring at me. "He doesn't know what he did wrong, and that's the thing, Rosalie: he didn't do anything wrong. But because you're avoiding him he thinks he did. Edward says he's—"
"I don't care what Edward said," I mumbled, focusing on the task at hand.
I breathed out, frustrated. I turned to Esme and looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "Why should I even care whether or not he's happy? The only person I'm worried about right now is myself, and that's how it's going to stay. If he wants to think about what he did wrong then fine, I'm not going to stop him. He can either wallow in the corner or get over it."
"You have no idea how hypocritical you sound," I heard from across the room.
"Was I talking to you Edward?"
He ignored me. "Maybe there's more to life than yourself. Maybe Emmett is wallowing in the corner because he cares about you and wants to apologize, but he doesn't even know where to start. You should be saying sorry, not him."
"Get out, Esme and I were having a conversation before you rudely interrupted. And besides, I don't care what he even has to say anyways, so you can tell him to just suck it up and move on."
"And you shouldn't?" I knew he wanted me to say something—to catch his bait. I didn't. He continued anyways and I didn't think I could stop him if I even tried. "Everything with Royce?"
"Edward..." Esme warned.
"No, Mom, I think Rosalie should hear this. Everything with Royce has you wallowing in the corner doesn't it? Why don't you just get over it? Why don't you just suck it up and move on?" He looked at me expectantly, challengingly.
I glared at him. "You son of a bitch," I seethed out, curling my hands.
"Because you can't—not right now," he continued, "and maybe he can't right now either. So don't go telling Emmett what to do when you can't even do it yourself, or else you're just as hypocritical as I said you were."
"I'm hypocritical? I'm hypocritical? Emmett!" I yelled, and when he appeared by the doorway at nearly lightning speed I said, "Come on Emmett, we're going hunting." And without a chance to even protest, I grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the house, giving Edward a fleeting glare along the way.
The look on Emmett's face as I pulled him in my direction was nothing short of surprise. I let it pass and tried to clear my head to prevent Edward from hearing denial, but I knew even he knew the things I thought about even before I thought of it. He was so perceptive and I didn't know whether I liked him or hated him because of it.
What was I saying? Of course I hated it.
As I held onto Emmett's wrist he did not resist, but I saw his mouth open and close, his voice stammering and sputtering. His eyes were transfixed on my hand—my fingers not long enough to entrap his wrist.
My face was nothing but a frozen mask, my eyes dark and my brows furrowed. My mouth was set in a hard line as I pursed my lips together, ready to break apart at any given second. Emmett knew that too, for he didn't say a word the entire way—or unable to.
When I pulled him along far enough, and when I was sick and tired of his astonishment that seemed to never go away, I broke contact with him and glared at him, as if he were Edward as well. He was, in a way: both were the source of my problems.
"What?" I yelled, my eyes feral.
Emmett flinched. He actually flinched. His eyes were wide and he put his hands up as if signaling for me to stop. His brows shot up and he leaned back slightly. Pausing, I sighed, and regarded him for a moment. I cursed out into nothing and stomped my feet before turning my back towards him.
As much as I wished it wasn't true it was: Edward was right. Like hell I was going to think of it let alone tell him though.
"Don't you just hate Edward, Emmett? Don't you?" I asked, sneering.
He didn't wait. "No."
It was my turn to sputter.
"I don't hate you either Rosalie. I mean, you can spend forever hating someone or you can try to make amends."
"Amends?" I asked him, surprised at what he was saying.
"It's easier than hating someone. Why let yourself suffer for the way someone just is? Edward is... Edward. He's caring—almost insufferably so. He's trying. He helped me be like this and not... not crazy or killing humans. I got to give it to him, he's doing his best to make me belong, even if he kinda sucks at it." Emmett laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke.
And I was surprised that he saw Edward in such a light. That insufferable bastard actually had a good side? All he did was push me, make me angry, and made me want to murder him.
But why? What was his intention? All Edward made me want to do was avoid him, therefore I would spend a lot of time alone. All he did was provoke me, make me react, make me talk to Emmett about cars, and make me drag Emmett to the woods—
How had I not seen it before?
Edward was making me get to know Emmett.
So why wasn't I angry?
I groaned at the realization that I did not hate Edward. I couldn't stand him some times yes, but hate? No. And I kind of wished I could. Underneath that son of a bitch was a heart that escaped being frozen after transformation.
"Why are you right?" I asked, groaning again. I let my head tip back, staring at the sky.
I heard Emmett chuckle. I shifted my eyes at him, trying to glare, and he didn't stop laughing. He was now desensitized to my stare. I didn't know what to think about that.
"You're not angry at me, Rosalie. You're just angry that you're wrong.
"I'm not wrong Emmett. I'm just not right."
That made him laugh even harder. I walked over to him and pushed him on the shoulder, telling him to stop. I wasn't even able to push him back a couple of steps—he hadn't moved at all. I never realized how big he was, how he could probably crush me with a pinch of his fingers. And despite his appearance, I knew he wouldn't hurt a thing. He had been so remorseful when he was killed a human.
When his laughter died down I was still glaring at him and he immediately stopped, his mouth forming a circle and I tried to hold in a smile. I turned away and he knew the look on my face so he walked around me, wanting to see my reaction, but I kept moving away. Finally restless, he lightly touched the side of my face and held me there so I was looking right at his eyes. We only lasted a couple of seconds before I pushed his arm away and started to laugh. My eyes were shut and I was facing the ground.
"They say laughter's the best medicine, Rosalie. You should do it more often."
My laughter stopped and I opened my eyes, just looking at him. I bit my tongue and he looked so sure, his smile so severe.
"I'm serious—" he started, but I interrupted.
"Are you hungry? I'm not really, but are you?" He shook his head. "Hmm, okay. Uh, what do you like anyways? Deers? Lions? Black bears?" I joked with the last part and smiled slightly.
"Hey, I may have been attacked by one but that doesn't mean I'm afraid of them. I mean, I put up a good fight and could had taken down the bear, I was just... not ready for the attack."
I raised my brows at him challengingly. He got the hint. And when he was talking it was as if he were telling a great story about battling dragons.
"Listen carefully, Rosalie. You don't want to miss this, okay? so there I was, running back to camp when all of a sudden this huge bear comes out of nowhere!" Emmett began, his eyes wide and fascinated like he was hearing the story for the first time, but that didn't make sense because he was the one telling it. He demonstrated himself running to camp like I didn't know what running was and stopped himself short by jumping in the air and attempting to replicate a bear. His mouth was open, his eyes wild, and his hands... well, his hands were up and imitating claws which threw off the whole scary vibe.
I nodded at him, playing along. He didn't seem to care whether or not I was anyways.
"Anyways, I was like, not scared, just fascinated by the bear"—what a lie—"and gave it a little wave"—another lie—"before trying to get my stuff. But it came close and I walked back as I saw it was ready to pounce. I gave a little chuckle"—lie again—"and put my fists up, also ready to fight the bear. I knew I could tackle it and bring it down, I mean, look at my arms!" What was that, three lies at once?
I nodded along, faking enthusiasm as he seemed so wrapped up in his piece of fiction. "And I was about to attack when he all of a sudden pounced on me, knocking me to the ground. We got in a brawl rolling along the floor and... and—" I almost laughed at how lost he was soon getting, trying to make up his story.
I decided to save him. "Emmett?" I asked.
He stopped trying to think and stared at me. "Yeah?"
"Do you remember how you became a vampire?"
He grinned. "Of course I do, you saved me from the bear."
"That's right. And do you know how I was able to save you?"
"Well of course. You carried me to Carlisle."
"I know that. I meant, how was I able to find you?"
"You were hunting and saw me getting attacked by the bear—oh."
"Yeah. So fabricating a story to me is kind of pointless. Don't worry," I started, giving a stage whisper, "your pseudo-manliness is saved with me."
"Pseudo-manliness?" Emmett, exclaimed, completely appalled.
I just raised my brows at him, waiting for him to retort just so I could retort back, but he didn't say anything—he looked... lost.
I scrutinized him before I realized why he was acting that way. "Fake. Artificial. Imitation. Not real. Phony. Pretend. Sham—"
"I know what pseudo means!" I stared at him, hard. "Okay, I didn't. And I'm not!"
"Sure," I replied, walking past him.
"I am!" he called after me, but I kept walking, heading nowhere in particular.
"I believe you."
"Rosalie!" he whined.
"I didn't say I didn't."
I was still walking away, smiling to myself at his frazzled state, before I felt something grab onto my wrist. I immediately whirled around, my eyes wild, and came to contact with Emmett's gold ones. I grabbed his and it was okay, but when he grabbed mine it was not. Wrists were off limits; hands were romantic.
Once we made contact with our eyes I felt Emmett's hand release itself from touching my skin. His eyes were as wild as mine, even when I relaxed slightly. My emotions changed so quickly that I didn't know if he noticed. The expression on my face softened, and I looked at the space between our hands.
It was strange how things quickly changed between us.
He vaguely knew of what had happened with Royce, and soon he was going to turn into one of them—I was sure of it. The more he knew, the more cautious he was around me. When he didn't know anything at all, it was such a change, such a clean slate. I felt real instead of different. And I missed that feeling. Sometimes his touch was nothing, and sometimes it was everything, everything bad. Like now. When I overreacted, when I thought of Royce, it just messed everything we previously had. I would compare him to Royce. I liked the moments when I could go hours without thinking of him.
I'd give almost anything for things to go back to the way they were. And I knew if I ever let him in he'd just continue to be like one them, even more than before.
"Would it help if I said... you're more of a man than Edward?" I joked, and it caught Emmett by surprise at my ease and how the tension vanished. I was trying too, it wasn't just Edward.
He stammered a bit. "Uh, yeah. But I know that." He tried to relax under my stare and soon said a few things without thinking. "Just ask any of the women I was with back in Tennessee." He reposed, grinning at the memory of whatever he was remembering. Talking was such a breeze for him, brushing things off was such an easy accomplishment. He didn't know the kind of skill he possessed.
My head tilted as I watched his emotions change, from delight to sadness, but then reverting back to delight because he knew I was there.
And I shouldn't have been so surprised, but I was. I knew Emmett wasn't chaste even in my dejected state, but it only stood at the back of my mind. And for it to be real... I shouldn't care, but for some reason I did, and even that surprised me.
"Human women?" I said, my voice completely flat. Was he mocking me? He knew how much I wanted to be human (or did he? I didn't remember if I ever said the words), so was he just throwing it back at my face.
He seemed oblivious to what I was hinting at and continued, "Yep. Just ask Betty, Shirley, Ann, Charlotte—"
"I don't care about any of them, not even Charlotte, Emmett! So please just shut up."
"Was your record better than mine? I mean, it might—I mean, you're..."
"No. It wasn't. And I'm actually proud of myself because it means I'm not any kind of flapper like you, but in your case a male flapper," I said knowingly, staring at him with such pride. My lips were pressed tightly and I blinked once, twice, thrice, at him.
He looked at me with abruptness, but that quickly changed into smugness, and now it was my turn to be confused. "You're jealous," he said as his tone held no emotion, and I couldn't read them.
"I am not," I replied outlandishly, not recognizing my own voice.
"Bullshit." He was closer, our arms touching, and a smile was plastered on his face. Except it wasn't a smile, it was more of a smirk.
I turned to him, livid. "Why would I be jealous when I could have anyone I wanted?" My voice was seething, my eyes glaring right into him. He didn't move. He was unaffected. I got so angry so fast and he stayed as calm as he could. It was so easy for him—just a game.
"But you can't because you're not human."
I didn't say anything. I hated how calm he was. I hated him. All the previous feeling for him when I had met him were resurfacing. But when had they sunk?
"Admit it Rose, you're jealous of the girls I was with—you're jealous of humans." He had never called me Rose before. The feeling was unsettling.
Emmett leaned down, his legs touched mine. At one point I must have backed into a tree.
And they weren't just Betty, Shirley, Ann, Charlotte, and however many more, they were humans named Betty, Shirley, Ann, and Charlotte. Emmett's words went deep under my skin, running through my bones. He had me there, though I wouldn't admit it. He knew where to hit me, he knew where it hurt.
"Don't call me Rose!" I yelled at him.
"Why?" His voice was still unemotional, completely unchanging.
"Because it's not my name!"
His brows furrowed and he came forward again, and I didn't turn away. "It's more than that."
I ignored him. I didn't want to get into that. He didn't need to know. Instead, I yelled at him. "You know what? You're disgusting. You brag and brag and brag! How many women have you slept with when you were human? Are you planning to have sex with me and run away, not caring at all that you're not human and could kill an entire town full of them?" I couldn't stop myself. I just kept talking.
I stayed silent, trying to clear my thoughts. He was pressing his lower body against mine.
He breathed out and my voice hitched. "If I'm disgusting, why aren't you moving away?" His voice was deep and baritone, reverberating through my skin.
I was in a trance and completely lost. It took a couple of seconds but soon I realized what he was doing. Looking down, our bodies touched.
"Get off of me," I seethed and my palms were on his chest, ready to push.
"Admit you're jealous." His nose was touching the crook of my neck, his lips on my shoulder. My back against the tree I was previously standing against. His lips dragged against my skin. "Or tell me to stop. Say it, and I'll stop." I could feel his lips against my skin.
His head was down, my head was up. I closed my eyes, bringing my hands up and putting them on his shoulder, fingers pressing against his skin.
Then, as his lips moved to my ear, he whispered, "Tell me… just tell me, Rose."
Rose. Royce used to call me Rose.
I pushed Emmett. Hard. I sent him reeling backwards and he almost fell to the floor. I wouldn't care if he did. I sort of wished he did.
"Don't call me Rose ever." I was fuming. I felt anger, frustration, and saw red.
Emmett stayed where he was, looking a bit scared. He should be. I was absolutely lethal. My fingers were curled tightly and I was breathing heavily even though I didn't need to.
I didn't know how long we stayed like that, but when some of my anger simmered down I felt… scared? I didn't know what it was, but suddenly, I wanted to get away. We were outside but it felt like the world was closing in on me. I couldn't breathe. Well, I didn't have to, but I felt as if I was completely shutting down. I felt tired. First time ever.
"Rosa—"
Before he could finish I backed away from him and put my hands on my head. I wouldn't run, not this time. No matter how frightening everything was I wouldn't run. I wouldn't turn into the Rosalie I hated. And I wanted to not be afraid, but there I was... afraid. My fingers curled and held onto my blond hair, pulling a bunch of strands in different directions. He was staring at me. I hated the way he stared at me. I hated his eyes. They were topaz, yes, but I couldn't forget the colour that lay underneath them. I didn't know if I ever would and I didn't know if I ever wanted to.
I turned away from him. I turned my back to him, but didn't walk away like I would have. I waited for no one, but there I was, contradicting myself.
And then I felt him close in on me. He wasn't making a noise, he wasn't breathing, and he didn't cause a breeze, yet I knew he was there. I just felt it. Heat radiated off my cold skin, or what felt like head. What did heat feel like? I should ask Carlisle. I probably wouldn't.
It was strange how easily I talked with Emmett without even realizing it—how easily I fought back, which was even more than Edward. But this, it was different than with Edward. I hated Edward, but with Emmett, I just... I didn't know. I didn't hate him, but that didn't mean I liked him either. It was just easier to be around him. And when I talked I would remember, and all I did was want to back away and leave, to stop myself from witnessing something that could potentially be great. But along with greatness, came despair, and I didn't want to ever come across despair ever again. Even then, being able to be so free was something I hadn't experienced in a long time.
Ever since Edward, Esme, and Carlisle came into my life, I wasn't even human. And as a vampire, as the living dead, that was all I wanted to feel. I got over the fact that mortality wasn't within my reach, and all I wanted was to at least feel human—to be treated as a human. But all they did was walk on eggshells around me, and when I slowly accepted myself, they were still careful, and very afraid. How could I change if they weren't willing to either? Why should I be treated differently?
And with Emmett... he was real. With him, what you saw was what you got. Edward, Esme, and Carlisle were far away from the boundaries that held up my walls, but Emmett didn't care, didn't know, how far gone he was and how far beyond the line he was. How much he didn't care made everything even more appealing.
To him, I was just another vampire, another kind, and it didn't change the way he saw me regardless of who I was as a human. And that was it. It was because he didn't know. I knew that once he did he'd just treat me like them... like the Cullen's. I was still a Hale. I always was and always would be. Giving up being a Hale would be like giving myself up. Giving myself up meant someone else took over me. Never again, not ever.
He was trying, I'd give him that much. I couldn't blame him—not when he knew nothing of Royce in the first place. I had to give people chances, but that would be stepping into new territory and I didn't know if I wanted the power to shift.
I knew there was something between us. It wasn't big, but I could feel it—sparks. It was chilling and unnerving, but at the same time I was curious. I felt something, I just didn't know what and I didn't know if I wanted to find it.
Collecting my thoughts, I turned to Emmett and said, "I'm not jealous, I'm just really, really, on edge right now, okay? So don't assume things, Emmett. And my name is Rosalie."
Apologizing, that was something I never thought I'd do. Even Emmett seemed surprised and I looked away from him and to the right, uncomfortable. I heard him come over and my eyes shifted so fast to him, but he kept coming forward. I didn't back away.
"Hey, I'm sorry, alright? I know I can be forward, but by God, I can't help that you're so—"
"Don't," I said, putting a hand up and signaling for him not to continue. I closed my eyes and breathed out. "I know. And I'm not bragging, I just... I just know, okay?" And I did. I knew I was beautiful, stunning, absolutely eye-catching. I yearned to hear those words, but now that I knew someone who wasn't human was about to say it, I didn't want to hear it anymore. Wondering and knowing were two different things. Emmett telling me I was beautiful would bring so much new things to the table and I didn't know if I was ready for that—or if I'd ever be. Just the fact that he thought of it was enough though. For now. Maybe.
Things were changing.
"Who's Royce?" Emmett said, not skipping a beat. My eyes shot through the air and into his. He caught himself. "Uh, you just... I hear his name thrown around sometimes—"
"Who?" I demanded and he hesitated. "Edward? Of course he—"
"No. You."
"Oh," I said so quietly that I didn't know if he could even hear me. I licked my lips and waited, but I didn't know what I was waiting for. And when I looked at Emmett's eyes I didn't see pity or disgust, I saw truth and understanding.
Tom and Nate would have loved him. Maybe even father.
Mother would have hated that he was different.
Grief tore into me and how much Royce was consuming my life—how far gone I was. I was slipping and no one saw, they were all just taking cautious steps around me, and Emmett, he saw something they couldn't see. He wasn't the smartest, but he knew people. I knew he was a people person instead of a people pleaser.
"Are you going to tell me?"
I shouldn't have, but for even reasons I couldn't understand, I did. Things were already changing, even if the ice was still wedged between us and I was furthering the change. I shouldn't hide behind walls like I had been for the past months because hiding showed vulnerability and vulnerability meant being taken advantage of. I was stoic and poised, but I wouldn't back down and say no, I wouldn't show him I was weak. And if I had to knock myself down a few pegs I was willing to do it, just so he couldn't try to get me like he had earlier.
"Boyfriend when I was human," I told him confidently, even though inside my insides were a scattering mess. It was partly true, and I knew if I told him too much he'd be just like them. This was enough.
"And you had to leave him." He said it like it was a fact and that he knew, it wasn't even a question.
"Yeah." And I did, in a way.
The air around us was chilling and there was stretching silence that got Emmett uncomfortable. He shifted his legs back and forth and wrung his hands together. He opened his mouth more than once and I knew he didn't know what to say.
It wasn't until the seventh or eighth or ninth—I didn't know—time that he spoke."It's getting late," Emmett said, staring at the sky, trying to make idle conversation.
I just had to shoot it down; I was speaking without thinking. "Vampires don't sleep."
Emmett turned to me, smiling. "I'd try, just so I could wake up next to you."
I was amazed at how quickly he moved, but not the good kind of amazement. "How many women has that worked on?" I asked, frowning, but he kept smiling. Leave it to Emmett to try and turn his own truth into a joke.
"Well the women I dated weren't vampires." He shrugged, still smiling, and it was contagious. I tried to hold back the bend of my mouth, but I knew a part of me was smiling, even if it wasn't evident on my mouth. I didn't understand how quickly he could change the conversation, how the look on his face went from one extreme to another. He didn't take things to heart and he let things go, and he was everything I wished I was. I was sure this wasn't the first time that thought came across my mind.
I rolled my eyes, trying to show annoyance. "Fine, let's go."
"Sleep?"
"No. Home."