Chapter Twenty-Six: The Mixed Tape

BPOV

---One Month Later---Part One: Echoes, Silence, Patience, & Grace

Time passes without dramatic change; without excitement or companionship. It has been a month since I left Chicago and Edward Anthony Cullen behind. Since my return to Forks, I have been keeping myself occupied in a miserable attempt to avoid the very thought of him. By day, I worked part-time at Carver's Diner as a server alongside Cora, a long-time friend of our family. The other half of my days were filled with classes at Peninsula College in Port Angeles. I had decided to begin focusing on my minor in music education and was hoping I'd find some joy in working with children once I finished school. Being that I was half-way done with my education by the time I transferred from Columbia, I didn't have too long to go until I could begin student teaching.

Even though my days were packed with activity, my nights lacked substance. After all the studying and semi-quiet dinners with Charlie and Deb, I was left to my own accord. Falling asleep at night became an obstacle; I spent most of the night tossing and turning. When I did drift off to sleep, I only ended up dreaming of him: the way his brows furrowed when deep in thought, the way his lips curled up into that crooked smile...his kisses, his caresses: everything about him haunted me.

Then again, it didn't help that he kept calling my cell phone or leaving e-mails for me.

"Bella, please...just call me to let me know you are alright." - May 24th e-mail

"Bella...come on...pick up the phone...please...fuck, just call me or e-mail me. I need to hear your voice before I go nuts..." - May 26th voicemail

"Come home." - May 30th text message

These were just a few of a thousand messages I'd get throughout a day from him; all of them frantic in tone and repetitive in themes: come back, be with me, call me, forgive me...

It was hard not to follow suit and leave Forks. It took everything I had not to jump on the next flight to Chicago and be with him.

No...I couldn't. It was for the best. Edward deserved the finest and I couldn't live up to that expectation. I couldn't be perfect; not after being his mistress.

---June 4th---

"Okay...so please, folks, finish reading pages 152 through 206 by Friday and using methods mentioned in the book, prepare a mock-up lesson plan to present to the classroom for critique. Class is dismissed," Mr. Molina, my Early Childhood Music professor, said before shutting off the projector and switching on the lights of the dim classroom. I took my time gathering up my notes, textbooks, and pens; not really looking forward to the rain and cold breeze that awaited.

Once I packed everything back into my backpack, I started descending the stairs leading down to the main podium and the exit. I was halfway to the door when Mr. Molina stopped me.

"Miss Swan, Dean Porter asked me to give this to you. She mentioned that she received it interoffice yesterday afternoon."

Mr. Molina held out a clear plastic CD case with a light blue CD-RW inside for me to accept. I tried to think back on any past assignments that I may have submitted on CD, but came up blank. I normally printed my assignments to hand in or did Power Points via e-mail submissions.

"Um...Mr. Molina...there has to be a mistake..."

He shook his head and pointed at the CD, "Can't be. It has your name on it, Miss Swan."

I took the CD from his hands and looked down at it curiously. The handwriting was perfectly embossed on the shiny blue surface. It was familiar, but I couldn't make the connection to figure out where it came from:

Earth To Bella Swan: Part One

1) True Love Way - Kings of Leon

2) I Don't Want To Let You Go - Rivers Cuomo

3) As Tears Go By - The Rolling Stones

4) We Can Work It Out - The Beatles

5) The World Has Turned and Left Me Here - Weezer

6) Only One - Yellowcard

The Rolling Stones....only one person I know would put the Stones on a CD. There is no way...

"Um...thank you, Professor Molina. See you Friday."

I made a mad dash to the parking lot. This had to be some sort of cruel joke or a really big fluke/mistake. There was no way...absolutely, irrevocably no way in Hell...

Edward wasn't here. It was impossible.

My keys fumbled between my rain slickened fingers as I unlocked the door to my truck; tossing my backpack in first before getting inside. I quickly got settled in the driver's seat before starting up the engine; wasting no time in putting the CD into the new CD player my Aunt Amanda and Uncle Robert installed for me as a welcome home present. I waited for the momentary silence to pass. Then the first chords of the acoustic came through; clear and overwhelming to the pounding rain on the hood. Following the chords came the most exquisite sound to ever grace my truck's antique speaker system:

The voice of a seraph; the voice of Edward.

I listened as he sang each song with this intense sadness that not even the original artists could cover; songs that I recall him listening to on vinyl whenever I'd spend the night while Tanya was out of town.

I remembered how we both slow danced to "As Tears Go By" at the club the first night we met.

I remember how we made love to "We Can Work It Out" the night I went to his apartment to give back all the things that reminded me of him.

A tear slipped down my face as the last song came to a close.

It is so hard to pretend not to be in love anymore.