~2011
It's obvious we're both pissed off. Emmett's pissed at me, and I'm pissed at…well, I guess I'm pissed at myself, too. I can barely remember what it's like not to hate myself.
Mom and Dad give me a wide berth, but Emmett's not so easy to dissuade. I go into Dad's office, knowing I'll find his scotch there, and Emmett follows, making himself comfortable on the worn leather sofa as I hand him a glass. I'd like to say I need something to take the edge off, something to relax me. But really I just need some liquid courage and perhaps something to numb the pain. It's time to start asking questions.
"Tell me now," I say. "I need to know."
"Not my story to tell," he replies.
I sigh. "Then tell me something," I plead. "Anything."
He leans back and takes a sip, staring off at something outside the window, before he finally speaks.
"Hey, remember that Samantha chick from high school?"
"What?"
"Samantha Johnston?"
"Um, not really," I say.
"Rose was friends with her," he tells me.
What this has to do with Bella, I don't know. But I bite. "Okay?"
"Whole town turned on her when she got pregnant," he says.
"Oh, yeah," I chime in, now remembering. "Wasn't she like fifteen or something?"
"Yep. She married the dad after graduation."
"Bet that worked out well," I say sarcastically.
"Actually, it did," he tells me. "Been married going on ten years now, got three kids. You know that's the only guy she's ever been with?"
"Um…No offense, Em, but what the hell does she have to do with Bella?"
"Huh?" he asks, snapping out of whatever memory he was in and turning to look at me. "Oh, nothing, I guess. It just sucks how she's still stuck with that label, you know?"