Aren't you guys proud of me? It only took me a week to write this! Finally, I'm on track again. It's the first of autumn and I'm feeling optimistic. I hope you enjoy this chapter. It is the beginning of a turning point in the story.
A huge thank you to the awesome ms. ambrosia! She's stuck with me since the beginning and I'm just so happy that I've gotten to share this whole fanfic adventure with her by my side.
Disclaimer: SM owns.
"How did I ever get you to talk me into this? It's torture," I grunted at Tanya as I pushed my torso upward off my Pilates mat toward the ceiling of the sweaty gym.
"Oh please, I didn't talk you into anything. I dragged you here against your will," Tanya replied as we lowered our torsos back to the mat. "But it's for your own good. You need the workout. Endorphins make you happy…and really, you could use a little muscle." Tanya rolled over onto her back and I mimicked her movements as she effortlessly followed our instructor's directions, lifting her legs into the air and then slowly lowering them again.
We repeated the movement over and over until I felt a burning pain in my thighs. I glanced at Tanya who seemed almost relaxed, the slight dewy sheen on her face the only indication that she was exerting herself.
"I don't know how I'm supposed to get my body in that position," I complained as our muscled instructor stretched forward, showing off her seemingly limitless flexibility, grasping her right ankle while placing her pert nose flat to her knee. "I'll never be able to do that," I admitted as I struggled to do the pose, all my muscles protesting my efforts.
"Never say never, Bella," Tanya advised as she inhaled and maneuvered her body into the correct position. I glared at her, wondering if her statement was about working my core muscles or something more.
"Fine, I'll do my best. But afterward you owe me a smoothie," I muttered as I pushed my aching body to respond, closing my eyes as I reached for my toes.
"Bella," Tanya hissed quietly and I opened my eyes to see that the rest of the class had moved on.
No matter how hard I tried to keep up it seemed I was always a few beats behind, but I just couldn't find it in me to care. With a heavy sigh I clambered up into a standing position, my traumatized legs wobbling beneath me. I could already feel the soreness in my abdomen as we did some deep breathing exercises, making me worried but thankful that the class was nearly over.
As I showered in the locker room, I thought of how busy and crazy the last week of my life had been. It had been a whirlwind of activity that left me little time to think or even breathe. I'd been to art show with Angela one night, out to the movies with both my roommates the next evening, and we'd gone to dinner and drinks the following night.
I'd gone with little protest, allowing myself to be shepherded about from one event to another. After I'd confessed everything that had happened with Edward, Tanya and Angela appeared resolved to help me get over what had happened. They thought if they kept me busy, and kept my mind off of things, that I'd move on.
They forced me out of the house, distracted me, but it was only prolonging what was inevitable. I would have to face the reality of my life. I would have to come to terms with what had happened.
I was still drinking the last bit of my smoothie when we got home. I was slurping loudly, trying to suck the last little chunks of fruit through my straw when Tanya informed me that I was going to a party with her and that I had to start getting ready.
I was so tired that I was still trying to process what she'd said when she'd already marched off toward the house. I struggled to follow her, to respond, but it took an extreme amount of effort to peel my aching body out of Tanya's little Audi sports car. I stumbled down the sidewalk behind her, my legs already feeling like jelly.
"What?" I threw at her back. She didn't respond.
"Tanya, answer me!" I demanded, glaring at her back as she walked through the front door and down the hallway toward the kitchen.
She already had the refrigerator door open and a water bottle in her hand when I finally caught up to her. "It's no big deal. It's a friend's birthday. Angela's got a work thing, so you're coming with me."
"Look, I know you and Angela are trying to keep me busy, but I think I can handle my own social calendar from here on out," I maintained, putting my hands on my hips for emphasis. "You don't have to babysit me," I added with less surety.
"We're not babysitting you. We just know you. It's just a matter of time before you close yourself up in your bedroom with your journals and hide away from the world." She took a deep drink from the bottle in her hand while I processed her words. I shouldn't have been surprised that she knew me so well, but for a brief moment I was rendered speechless by her perception.
It was true. I felt the burning need to crawl under the covers on my bed and hide. It had been three long days since Edward had left. I had robotically slipped back into my regular routine, getting up for work in the morning and only half-reluctantly participating in the myriad of activities that Tanya and Angela had crafted up to keep me busy in the afternoons and evenings.
I was functioning. I was ignoring the hole in my heart.
And yet, whenever I was alone, the ache in my chest bloomed until I could no longer breathe a deep breath. I secretly appreciated the distractions my friends provided, because whenever I slowed down, whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was a perfectly angular jawline, broad shoulders, beautiful long fingers and intense green eyes that smoldered when they looked back at me.
"Look Bella, just go to this party with me, okay?" Tanya urged, more gently.
"Yes, okay," I readily agreed, surprising her. A crowded, noisy party was sure to keep my mind from wandering, from dwelling. I thought that I might even have a drink or two to help me forget.
"Oh…good…cool," she responded, her lips curling into a smirk.
"You go take your long ass bath and I'll go pick out our outfits," she ordered, giving me a shove.
I should have known what kind of party Tanya was taking me to. I should have been prepared. But as soon as we arrived at the party, I quickly wondered what kind of mad circus I'd entered. A large transvestite dressed in a skin tight red dress and stilettos answered the door, immediately embracing me in her hulking arms and practically catapulting me into the vast and wildly decorated warehouse loft.
I teetered in the gold high heels I was wearing as Tanya reached out from behind me, clutching onto my arm excitedly.
"Isn't this awesome?" she exclaimed giddily, her eyes roaming the high walls covered in graffiti art and several massive canvases covered with bold swathes of color and splashes of glitter. A huge Lucite chandelier hung from the center of the ceiling, with fat tinsel garlands swinging like vines around it.
"Ooh, look," Tanya squealed, pointing to a far wall that at first was simply a huge, white, blank expanse, then was instantly transformed by random shapes and colors and bits of film that were being projected onto it from a booth in the corner of the room. My eyes could barely focus on one thing for long before they were drawn somewhere else.
Tanya had explained on the way to the party that this space was a shared art studio/gallery that several artists used. They had parties in the space all the time and Tanya had jumped at the opportunity to go to one. As I continued to look around, it became obvious that this was an artistic crowd, willing to go to extra lengths to prove their creativity.
Just as loud dance music started to play from a wall of speakers on one edge of the room and several groups of people slid out to the dance floor, Tanya pointed out a group of small framed paintings, mounted on the wall near a long table that was laid out with both homemade and catered-looking dishes.
"Those are Addie's work…this is her party," she explained as we pushed through the crowd, closer to the table and the artworks. As we approached the food, I noticed that table was actually a long wooden door, ingeniously crafted into a table, the food a strange, but delicious-looking mixture of Indian, Greek, and Middle Eastern finger foods, with heaping plates of cookies and little pies at one end.
I tore my eyes from the cookies to study the paintings on the wall behind, gasping in delight at what I found. The artworks were incredibly small, but amazingly detailed portraits, painted on small pieces of shell, flat stones, and bits of tree bark. Perfectly rendered faces peered back at me, their eyes almost appearing to focus on my face.
Tanya was distracted by a group of friends from school and skipped off to visit with them while I picked up a paper plate and, skipping the finger foods, began to fill it with desserts. I had just placed a fat chocolate chip cookie to my lips, turning back to watch the growing crowd of people on the dance floor when a vaguely familiar man began to approach me.
I placed the cookie back on my plate, licking a bit of chocolate from my lip, and tried to place the man's face in my memory before he reached me. Even in the artificial light, I immediately noticed the rich tone of his olive skin, the warmth and intelligence that radiated from his round, dark eyes. He was tall and thin, almost gaunt, with short inky black hair that lay wild on his head in languid curls.
He smiled – a wide smile of genuine happiness to see me – that completely disarmed me. Who was this man? He had come to a direct stop in front of me and I still had yet to place him in my mind. I was beginning to panic a little, my palms sweating, when he began to speak and miraculously, I instantly knew who he was.
"Hi Bella, you don't recognize me, do you?" He smirked, his dark eyes flashing.
"I don't believe it. Laurent…is that you?" I squeaked, overwhelmed by a rush of memories and subsequent emotions.
"Yep. I thought by the way you were squinting at me that you didn't recognize me."
"I didn't at first. You look so different," I admitted, awed by the physical changes in him since we were younger.
"Well, I'll take that as a compliment. It has been a long time," he replied. I was stunned to see the changes in him. He was no longer the shadow of a boy, hiding behind his hoodie, angry, sullen, and destined to follow in his father's footsteps.
"What happened to you?" I blurted. "I mean, you look great…older, uh…" I stammered, blushing.
He chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on me. "Thanks, um, you look great too. But…well, you always did. So no surprise there," he said, smiling broadly. He was so transformed that I was having difficulty reconciling him with who he used to be. He was so charming and handsome now that I just couldn't imagine how he'd become this confident, self-assured man.
"Do you live in Seattle?" I asked just as the music exploded out of the speakers behind me, drowning out my voice. Laurent leaned in closer toward my ear so I could hear his response.
"Um, no, not exactly," he whisper-yelled. "Hey, let's go find somewhere quieter so we can catch up," he suggested, wrapping his fingers around my arm. My instinctual reaction was to flinch from his touch, but I forced myself to relax. His demeanor wasn't threatening, but entirely pleasant. I looked into his eyes and saw only kindness and a bit of curiosity that reflected my own.
"Okay," I nodded and followed him across the dance floor, clinging to his arm as he easily maneuvered us through the small groups of enthusiastic dancers.
We ended up exiting through a door at the back of the warehouse space into a parking lot that had been somewhat unsuccessfully fashioned into a patio area. There were several plastic chairs haphazardly placed about with upside down milk crates tucked between them as makeshift end tables. Clunky ceramic ashtrays, empty beer cans and old magazines were scattered on the crates, giving the space the illusion of hominess.
To disguise the urban landscape, three large oak barrels, planted with Japanese maple trees framed the space. They were ingeniously situated to block the unforgiving view of the industrial neighborhood.
As I sat down into one of the chairs, I noticed that there was a faux rug painted on the ground underneath us, unfortunately providing very little warmth or comfort. I shivered as I pulled my thin coat around me, wishing that I didn't let Tanya convince me to wear the tiny silver wrap dress that I was wearing.
"I'll be right back," Laurent said as he turned and ran back into the noisy warehouse. He was gone only a second before returning with a black leather jacket which he offered to me.
"Thanks," I said, slipping the large jacket around my shoulders, instantly reveling in the warmth it provided.
Laurent sat down in the chair across from me, crossing his legs and slinking down into his chair just as he used to do when we were in group therapy together. I giggled at the memory, marveling that no matter how much time had passed, some things never changed.
"So how did you come to be at this party tonight? Do you know Addie?" Laurent asked.
"Not really. I'm here with my roommate, Tanya. She's friends with her."
"And how did you come to be here?" I countered.
"Well, that's a long story," he replied, stretching his arms back behind his head.
"I'm all ears." I wrapped the leather jacket tightly around me and smiled encouragingly.
"It's all Dr. Cullen's doing," Laurent said offhandedly, but I felt my stomach jolt and my heart stutter at the mention of Edward. I sat up taller in my seat.
"What do you mean?" I asked urgently.
"Before I tell you…I have to say something else. I have to apologize. I know it's been a long time, but I needed to say sorry for whatever happened in the past…at the party. I was messed up back then. You know it better than anyone," he said. He grimaced at the memory. "I just hope that nothing too shitty happened to you."
"Um, no, nothing too shitty," I replied. If Edward hadn't been there to save me, it could have been so much worse.
"Good, cause I've spent a lot of time trying to fix all the things I screwed up when I was a kid. It's truly a miracle that I'm not dealing drugs back in Forks and slumming it on the streets with my deadbeat dad. Sometimes I can hardly believe that I'm the same person, you know?
"It's almost like watching a movie about someone else when I look back to that time. But now here I am, just graduated from college and I'm starting law school at UC Berkeley next month."
"That's incredible! What happened, Laurent? How did things change for you?" I asked, my own curiosity peaking.
"It was Dr. Cullen. I found out that he moved down to San Francisco and I tracked him down. I was in a pretty bad place in my life. I knew what kind of future I was headed for if I stuck around. I had to get out of the house, you know what I mean? My parents weren't going to change…so I took off."
"You found Dr. Cullen?" I prodded, his name sounding weird on my lips.
"Yeah. And he helped me out. He let me stay with him for a little bit - down on this big-ass boat he was living on. We talked a lot about life and how I saw my future. Eventually, I figured out that I needed to go to school…finish high school…go on to college. So, long story short, Dr. Cullen helped me get a part-time job down at the harbor office while I went to night school and got my GED.
"I met a guy who let me live on his boat in exchange for cleaning it and keeping it maintained. I got to see Dr. Cullen all the time – I'm sure I bugged the shit out of him after a while, but he was always great. With his help, I applied to community college and then I went on to San Francisco State. Luckily, my parents have shit money, so I got lots of scholarships. I have loans too, but who doesn't?"
He sighed heavily, stretching out even more, until his feet were nearly on top of mine. "Enough about me," he announced.
"But – if you live in California, what are you doing in Seattle?" I asked in fascination, inspired by the events of his life. I wanted to hear more about Edward and how he'd somehow gotten involved with Laurent.
And yet, his story made me acutely aware of how much time had passed, how many things – both small and large – that Edward and I had missed in each other's lives. I realized that my view of him was incredibly narrow. There were so many details I wished to know, so many questions I wanted answered.
"I'm here for Addie. She's my…girlfriend. Or at least she was. Up until about six months ago, we were living in Oakland together, but she had an opportunity to share a studio space up here for cheap and an offer to be part of an art show. We were struggling financially," he grimaced, shrugging.
"And well, I didn't want to stop her…get in her way. I pretty much pushed her away," he confessed, his shoulders slumping. In one quick movement, he pulled his legs back and dropped his head to his hands. I placed my hand on his knee in a gesture of comfort. "I'm basically here to beg her to come home…if she'll have me."
"She'd be stupid not to," I said truthfully. Laurent was so changed. It wasn't difficult to see how good of a man he'd become. He was handsome, charming and self-assured and far more intelligent than I ever believed him to be previously.
I felt guilty for thinking so little of him in the past, for thinking that I knew everything about him. The fact that Edward saw something in Laurent that I hadn't noticed made me proud of him, and made me fall in love with him a little deeper.
"Thanks Bella," he whispered, suddenly embarrassed by my declaration. "You know, you haven't changed at all," he added, as though seeing something in me that he hadn't initially.
"Yes I have," I replied, chagrined, sitting up on the edge of the plastic chair.
"No, you're still beautiful, still smart, still so sweet. You know, we were all in love with you. Well, not Victoria," he corrected. "But me and James…you were like the ideal girl to us back then," he said quietly, as if not sure he wanted to reveal so much.
"What?" I asked, surprised, incredulous.
"It's true. And you like, never really seemed to get that you were so pretty, you know? I mean, it was obvious that sometimes even Dr. Cullen couldn't keep his eyes off you." I inhaled a sharp, little breath, allowing myself to absorb his words, allowing my perception of the past to stretch and bend and morph into something new.
Laurent's words ignited both a spark of delight within me as well as a stab of pain. Somehow hearing him speak of Edward brought everything that had happened in the past to the present again. And made it all so much more real, not the vague fantasy safely tucked into the recesses of my psyche. We had cared for each other – perhaps more than we should have – and that love was lost. Maybe forever.
"Did you know that James joined the Army?" Laurent asked, ripping me from my sad reverie.
"No," I answered. "But somehow that makes sense," I added, imagining him in military garb with his long, greasy ponytail finally shaved off. I could see him marching in the mud and rain like some image from a movie, focused and determined to follow his orders.
"I don't really know what happened to Victoria. She wasn't around much after you stopped coming to sessions."
"Oh, I know," I said. "She got married to a good friend of mine – Jacob Black. He's the quarterback for the…"
"San Diego Chargers," he interrupted with astonishment.
"Yes. They've been married for about three years now. They have three kids – all boys – two are twins. And she's about to have baby number four any day."
"Wow. That's unexpected," Laurent replied.
"Yes," I agreed. "But it's good. They're happy. They have a huge house, fancy cars, the works…"
"Cool," he replied, mulling over the information.
I was feeling relieved that I'd somehow successfully avoided the topic of my life, when Laurent broached the subject. "I don't really need to ask how you're doing," he announced.
"Why not?" I asked, confused by his statement. Was my unfulfilled life so plain on my face?
"I still talk to Dr. Cullen all the time and he's kept me updated. I've read some of your stories…I think he has copies of all of them. He's…really proud of you. I think he…cares about you," he said as if searching for the right words to explain his thought. "He talks about you all the time. Nothing too personal," he reassured me, misinterpreting the look on my face.
"I think he's lonely," he said quietly. "He needed someone to talk to just as much as I did."
It was painful to imagine Edward so lonely and yet, I'd been in the exact same place. I'd been floating numbly through life, not really participating, not truly experiencing the world around me. Life had passed by me - things had happened, I'd adapted and grown - but it all felt as if it was occurring to someone else, as if I'd been watching a movie about a girl much like me.
"Bella? My phone? It's in my pocket," Laurent was saying, reaching out toward me and I realized that something was vibrating from inside the leather jacket I had burrowed into. I finally snapped to attention, digging in the pocket to retrieve the phone.
Laurent pulled the phone out of my hand, pushed a few buttons and looked eagerly at the screen. "Huh," he exclaimed, smiling. "Speak of the devil," he said, thrusting the screen back in my direction so that I could see. "His ears must have been burning."
"Who?" I said, glancing at the small screen where a text by someone named, DriftAway, flashed brightly.
"It's Dr. C. He's DriftAway.
"Dr. Cullen?" I asked, astonished. The night was so full of surprises.
"Yep. Look what he wrote: 'How's the party? Did U talk to Addie yet?' He's just checking up on me. He knew I was coming out here today to talk to her."
"Do you talk a lot?" I asked, my fingers reaching for his phone, wanting to somehow hold the text in my hand, as though it would bring me closer to him.
"We mostly email and text these days. But yeah, we keep up with each other."
"That's really great," I said genuinely, happy for both Laurent and Edward. I let my fingers slide off the phone so that Laurent could palm it in his hand. He looked down at the screen while he typed a response.
"I'm just catching him up on things," he explained. "He's going to be so surprised that you're here," he stated as he finished up his text.
"No! He doesn't need to know I'm here!" I reached for his phone, but he'd already sent his message.
"Too late, Bella. No big deal," Laurent muttered casually and I wondered for the first time if he knew more about my relationship with Edward than he was letting on.
His phone immediately chimed with a new message. Laurent scanned the text while I strained to see the tiny words on the phone. I had slid to the edge of my chair, not even remotely hiding my interest when Laurent raised his gaze and smiled at me. "He wants to talk to you," he said as the phone in his hand began to vibrate and he held it out to me.
I pushed the talk button on the phone and stood up, walking a few paces toward a colorfully painted dumpster in the back of the parking lot. "Hello?" I asked, my voice trembling in anticipation.
"Bella?"
"Edward?" I whispered, cupping my hand over the phone.
"I can't believe it's you…It's so good to hear your voice."
"It's good to hear yours too," I admitted, feeling heat in my cheeks.
"I didn't know if you'd want to talk to me again. I thought maybe I'd finally made you hate me forever," he said in a gravelly voice. I could hear shifting around in the background, a door shutting.
"I could never hate you, Edward," I said in a breathy voice, all the oxygen seeming to vanish from my lungs.
"I'm so sorry for everything. I've been so stupid…did everything wrong. I never meant to make you feel like you were my dirty little secret. You're not. You're everything, Bella." His words thrilled me, but my heart was bruised. I realized with no small amount of anguish that I didn't fully trust him or his words.
"I don't feel like I'm everything to you. I feel like nothing," I confessed, feeling the power and truth in my words.
"No…no, don't ever say or think that."
"Your actions speak louder than your words, Edward." Moments from the past few days filled my mind: Heidi's possessive hold on Edward's arm, his steely, intense gaze, strong arms wrapped around me, his lips crushing against mine, our heated words in the darkness. It was all so confusing and so painful that I had yet to put any of it in perspective. It all left me feeling bereft, empty, and lonelier than I could ever remember feeling.
"You left," I blurted into the receiver, an accusation, a challenge. How would he defend himself?
"I had to," he explained. "Alice asked me to go. She said that Heidi's negativity wasn't making her feel any better. She basically kicked us out."
"You didn't have to go. She could have gone back to the hotel or something," I suggested.
"I pleaded with her to head back alone. I even suggested that she get an earlier flight home and that I'd meet her later. I thought I'd convinced her, but later she told me that she'd gotten new tickets for both of us. I started to argue, but mom stepped in and told me that we were making Alice upset and that we should both just go…I didn't know what to do. I wanted to do the right thing," he implored, his words earnest.
"It just seemed so sudden," I said in explanation of my feelings. But my anger was deflating as I was beginning to see things from his perspective. I couldn't criticize him for following Alice's wishes, for wanting to do what was best for her.
"If it makes you feel any better, I suffered the whole way home. It was excruciating to leave you now that we just found each other again. I can't stop thinking about you. And I'm going to do something about it. I promise to make some changes. I'm finally awake, Bella. I feel…hope for the first time in a long time."
I sniffled, wiping a few tears away, hoping that my mascara wasn't running. I turned to catch Laurent's eye and saw in his expression of pity that he sensed the gravity of the conversation I was having with Edward.
"I don't know what to say, Edward. I want to believe that's true."
"It is true. What we have…it's real. I've known it since I first laid eyes on you, but I couldn't do anything about it then. But I can now. And I will. You'll see," he said with a certainty that I hadn't heard from him before.
All of a sudden loud music poured out into the night, surrounding me and reverberating against the concrete walls of the parking lot. My head jerked toward the back door that was now open, Tanya's curvy body framing the doorway.
"I've gotta go," I whispered bluntly into the phone.
"Bella? Can I call you again? Or write? I swear to you that things are going to change. I've got a plan," he promised.
"I guess so," I acquiesced, flustered by Tanya's discerning gaze.
"Thank you," he replied, the warmth in his rich voice, making me believe in his sincerity. "I'll be in touch really soon. I…can't wait to talk to you again."
"Me either," I said before saying goodbye and pushing the end button. As I handed the phone back to Laurent and turned my attention back to Tanya, I couldn't help but wonder just what I'd agreed to.
I said a brief goodbye to Laurent, with a promise to stay in touch that I genuinely meant to keep. In just the small amount of time I'd gotten reacquainted with him, I already felt a bond with him and I knew that if we made the effort, we could be good friends.
As I stepped back into the loud and raucous atmosphere of the party, I only marginally noticed the partying going on around me, relying on Tanya's firm grasp to drag me through the throngs of bodies. Tanya thrust a fruity-looking mixed drink into my hands and to avoid spilling it, I guzzled it down thirstily. My legs moved, but my mind was still back with Edward, his words swirling around my brain.
I'd done my best to keep my distance, to speak my mind, to set some form of boundaries between us, yet I questioned whether or not Rosalie would be proud of me. Had I given in to Edward? Was he manipulating me? Only time would tell if he really did have a plan or he really was making some changes.
A warm, delicious glow filled my chest as the alcohol began to take effect and Tanya pulled me against her warm body onto the dance floor. She began to gyrate sexily, her hands on my waist. I looked around the room and realized that I felt safe and almost anonymous in this thick crowd of crazy artists. I made the conscious decision to give into the moment and let go of all my fear and anxiety.
I raised my arms up into the sky and swung my hips from side to side, allowing the loud bass beat to drive my movements instinctually. The sweat began to bead on my brow, my dress damp and clinging to my breasts and my thighs, and I realized that I felt good…hopeful…alive.
I was going to start living. And I would wait, and trust, and believe that Edward would find a way back to me.
Any thoughts?