Disclaimer: All familiar elements are S. Meyers. Reviewers get a preview...
Twenty-Nine
Rosalie's words haunted me for the rest of the weekend, crowding out any other thoughts. I must have asked Charlie to repeat himself every time he spoke to me because I was too preoccupied to notice anything else. While he had known that something was up, he hadn't broached the topic; I could guess he was probably happy things hadn't worked out but was too diplomatic to say anything. Even if he had reacted, I'm not sure I would have noticed; like the whispers at school, I had been too numb to care.
With Rosalie's interfering visit, emotion and turmoil rapidly returned. I felt hopeful and angry in turn, breathless with fury one second and near tears with how much I cared for him in the next. It was infuriating to be so overcome, my usual blasé mood a long forgotten memory. Losing that equanimity was another thing that made me angry at Edward, hands fisting at my sides as I lay in bed trying to contain my rage. That he didn't just talk to me, that he wouldn't open up…I wanted to blame someone for how I was feeling and his harsh words from the last time he'd bothered speaking to me made it easy to point the finger at him.
But I knew I wasn't entirely innocent in the whole mess. I hadn't broached the topic of the future, unwilling to admit how deep my feelings were, how serious I wanted to be. I'd almost said that I hoped he loved me yet I couldn't make myself simply ask what his plans were. I'd been more than content to live in the present, acting again like a damn ostrich with my head in the ground.
On top of everything else, I didn't know what I was supposed to do. How was I supposed to keep Edward's baggage from getting in the way? Was I supposed to call him? Should I ask him to pick up brochures for local schools for me? I was tempted to just kick him in the nuts the way Rosalie had done to Emmett, but found myself in tears at the thought of him kissing someone else in order to justify my doing so.
I was no more clear on what I should do on Monday morning than I'd been after Rosalie drove away in her cherry red BMW, tired and pale as I made my way to school. I slouched through Spanish and math, my brain cells failing to fire as my mind stalled out. I knew I didn't want to approach Edward in school. But over the phone seemed like an equally bad idea. I bit my lip as I fidgeted with my pen. Even if I could figure out when to speak to him, I didn't know what I would say. And why was this my responsibility anyways? He'd started the whole thing.
I exhaled noisily, my head jerking up as the bell rang. I'd barely paid attention in class and hadn't noticed the minutes passing as I wrestled with what to do.
When the bell rang for lunch, I decided I would take Jessica up on her invitation. It would be a distraction at the very least—I was exhausting myself going in circles in my head. I approached the double doors with my chin high but instantly dropped my gaze once I pushed through them, my courage faltering.
I kept my eyes fixed on the floor as I shuffled through the line, my arms crossed defensively over my chest. I barely glanced at the food, quickly grabbing an apple and a lemonade before scurrying over to the table where I'd sat for most of the school year.
"Hey, guys."
"Bella!" Mike's voice was surprised but in a good, non-creepy way.
"Bella Knievel, welcome back!" Tyler called from the end of the table.
I felt Jessica's hand briefly grasp my wrist as I sank down at her side, Angela's warm smile beaming at me from across the table. Ben sat close to her, their chairs practically touching; his grin was hesitant but I hoped it was only because we didn't know each other well.
I ducked my head as I bit into my apple, trying to listen to the conversation around me, refusing to get lost in my own thoughts yet again.
"We're planning on a bonfire down at First Beach, what do you say?" Mike was talking to me.
I forced myself to smile. "Maybe. Isn't it still too cold?"
"That's what the fire's for!"
"I'll keep you warm!" Tyler interjected. I bit my lip, blushing, hoping Lauren hadn't heard from where ever she was camped out in the cafeteria.
"That's what coats are for, Tyler," I replied evenly.
"Ooo, burn, Ty!" Mike laughed.
"How do you think you did on the Spanish quiz this morning?" Jessica asked after rolling her eyes at Tyler and Mike.
"Okay, I think," I replied, glad she'd changed the subject.
"Miss Goff is such a she-bitch on wheels sometimes," Jessica snorted.
"Sometimes?" I asked. Jessica laughed. I kept my eyes trained on the table, or Angela's smile, or Jessica's speeding mouth, determined to make sure my gaze didn't slip over my shoulder to where the Cullens sat. I took a deep breath when the bell finally rang, glad I'd made it through the half hour without looking.
I did my best to continue ignoring Alice and Jasper in history, stumbling over my own feet despite the fact that my eyes were fixed on the linoleum. I cursed Edward in my head, pissed that I had to deal with all of this awkwardness. I couldn't help desperately wondering if maybe Rosalie was wrong. Maybe it wasn't so complicated, maybe I had only been a passing distraction—and now he was done.
Sucked into these morose thoughts, I barely heard a word of the history lecture. I was considering skipping P.E., my feet dragging as I exited the main building and came to the courtyard, the square block of the gymnasium perched on the other side of a stretch of damp grass. It wouldn't take more than a minute to grab my coat from my locker and head home. I felt so finished with this day.
The furor of noise caught my attention first, a mix of voices, some angry like an argument while others were excited, almost cajoling. I lifted my head and saw a semi-circle of students near the gym doors. I squinted, trying to see what had drawn the small crowd, then gasped as I spotted an unruly crown of auburn hair above the fray. I was rushing over before I'd made the conscious decision to move, pushing through the jockeying students milling around Edward.
"…your sloppy seconds, you weirdo!" A thread of fear ran through Mike's shout, his furious face suddenly visible to me as I peered around Tyler Crowley. Edward had Mike pushed into the brick wall of the gym, his back to me, the pale skin of his knuckles fisted into Mike's jacket.
Adrenaline surging, I tripped past Edward, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart in my ears as I ducked under his arm, wedging myself between him and Mike. He flinched at my sudden appearance but didn't let go of Mike.
"Stop this, now," I insisted in a low voice, holding my gaze steady as I met his furious stare.
"Bella, get out of the way." Edward's initial shock disappeared in an instant, emerald eyes blazing as he glared down at me. His fists continued to grasp Mike's coat, his arms on either side of my head.
"This is not you, Edward." I had to believe this was true. I had to believe that what Rosalie had said, that what Alice believed, was reality—that Edward cared for me, that the sweetness and protectiveness he'd shown was who he really was—not the surly, silent douche who was now trying to kick Mike's ass.
My hands were shaking but I placed them on his chest anyways, sucking in a breath at the feel of him. "Please. Whatever he's said--"
"I didn't say anything!" Mike's voice was an angry whine behind me, his breath hot against the back of my neck.
"You lying sack of--" Edward snapped, eyes flashing over my shoulder to Mike's face.
"I know he's lying," I interjected. I could feel my chest rising and falling quickly, panic, anger, and worry churning inside. "But I don't care." I could feel my whole body shaking now, not sure what else I could do to stop Edward from taking a swing at Mike. "Please," I was begging. "This is not you."
Edward's expression shifted marginally, his thinned lips relaxing. I put pressure behind my hands, pushing him backwards, away from Mike, exhaling with relief when his feet actually moved. The protests and groans of the crowd around us seemed to come from far away, a second surge of adrenaline coursing through my veins at having succeeded.
We were nearly across the courtyard when I dropped my hands, lowering my gaze to my feet as I tried to catch my breath. I felt as if I'd just run a mile.
"Are you crazy?" Edward suddenly bit out. My head jerked up, surprised at the anger in his voice. "You could have gotten--"
"That was kind of the point," I said tiredly. I stared at him, trying to find something other than anger in his expression. As usual, though, it was impossible to tell. And he certainly wasn't going to fill me in.
I turned on my heel and returned to the gym, ignoring the group of guys still crowded around Mike, their voices consoling.
I couldn't think, couldn't feel, could barely breathe through the last hour of the day. The road was a blur in front of me as I drove home and I realized as I stumbled to the front porch of my house that I was crying.
What the hell had happened? Had I really stepped in the middle of a fight like some kind of nagging hall monitor, telling Edward what to do? If Edward hadn't hated me before, he certainly did now. Who did I think I was? Acting as if I knew him, acting as if I knew what he was capable of, when he'd made so clear to me that I didn't know him at all. I was desperate to retreat to my room, hurrying up the stairs, so intent that I suddenly tripped on the top step. I cried out as I crashed to the floor, sucking in a breath at the feeling of my skin splitting over my knee. On top of everything else…
Once I got my tears under control, I stripped off my jeans and sat on the edge of the tub, hissing as I dribbled hydrogen peroxide over the cut. It had only bled a little and it didn't look as if it needed stitches…
I began to cry again, looking down at the scar on my palm, thinking of the drive to the hospital when Edward had told me my hair was beautiful…when I'd confessed that I was glad he was talking to me again. I started sobbing, my body shaking, remembering his confession the day he'd surprised me at home, how he'd ignored me because he'd wanted to deny that anything had changed…
I was still sitting in my underwear and henley on the edge of the tub when Charlie got home, my face drenched, barely able to see beyond my swollen lids. "Bells?" His voice called up the stairs.
The strangled noise I made didn't reassure him and I soon heard his feet clomping on the steps, not bothering to remove his boots.
"Bells?! What happened?"
"Edward…" I choked out, lifting my hands, covering my face. I'd held it in so long, numb to anything…and now it was crashing down around me.
"Goddamn that kid," Charlie swore under his breath. He gently grasped my elbows, gingerly pulling me to my feet. "What happened to your knee?" he asked. "Don't tell me—you fell."
I nodded silently, fresh tears trickling from my eyes.
It was obvious shit was bad given I was too devastated to be embarrassed that I was in my underwear in front of my dad. For once, he didn't seem to be uncomfortable with emotion or tears, pulling me to the sink and ordering me to splash some water on my face. "Do you want me to call your mother?" he asked gruffly as he led me into my bedroom, his arm protective around my shoulders.
I shook my head in response, knowing Renee would probably say something along the same lines as Rosalie and Alice…and I just couldn't hear it right now. "Why don't you lay down. I'll order some pizza and if you're hungry, you can come downstairs at any time to eat. Okay?" I nodded again, collapsing gratefully into my narrow bed.
Charlie pulled the quilt over my shoulders, his hands tender as he tucked it tight. He pressed his lips together and I knew he was struggling to say something, to find the words to make it better. "Listen, Bells." He took a deep breath and I could see my own sadness reflected in his lined features. "You'll get through this. I know you will. And I know it probably doesn't mean much right now, but your mother and I love you."
"I know, Dad," I whispered, my throat swollen and raw from all of the crying. "Thank you."
I heard his footfalls as he left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Though I didn't think it was possible, I must have dozed after that. When I opened my eyes next, the windows were dark with night.
I lifted my head from the pillow, disoriented, rubbing my face. My eyes felt puffy and gritty with the dried salt from all of the crying. I shifted under the quilt, swinging my legs to the floor and turning on the bedside lamp. I felt drained but…alive. The tears had been cathartic, reminding me that I was capable of feeling something, as much as I'd tried to suppress it all week.
I went to the bathroom, washing my face and running a brush through my tangled hair. I could hear the television downstairs and felt reassured by my dad's presence. Turning back to my room, I pulled off my rumpled henley and grabbed an oversize Forks Police Department tee shirt to sleep in. I peered down at my knee, frowning as I saw it looked like it might start bleeding again. I was about to go back to the bathroom to grab a band-aid when I heard a tapping at my window.
Completely confused at the impossibility of such a sound, I reluctantly walked over, peering at the dark pane, trying to see beyond my own reflection in the glass.
The tapping sounded again, more urgent. Who the hell was at my window at…I glanced back at my alarm clock…ten at night? And how did they get up there?
I bent down, still only able to see my own frowning face in the glass, and pulled at the latch.
I might have shivered at the rush of cold January air that poured through the window if I hadn't been utterly shocked by the pair of uncertain green eyes staring back at me from the darkness. Edward's lanky figure was precariously perched on the tree branch that extended below my window, his legs awkwardly hitched behind him. He slapped his hands onto the sill and the branch creaked threateningly. I gasped, lunging for his wrists.
Edward was unconcerned with his own safety, his eyes narrowing as they adjusted to the light in my room. "What happened to your knee?"
