CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Edward knew.
I could tell.
He just knew.
And I'd been a clueless idiot.
His father had me fooled.
I should have known – there had been so many clues all along. The man had cut Edward off so easily. He didn't know what Edward liked and disliked. He'd planned everything according to his schedule only – had Edward signed out of school all the time to meet him.
And he'd dropped the bomb on me over the phone.
One call.
That was it.
And to think that I'd forced Edward to –
"Open your mouth."
I tried to calm my breathing as I faced Mike; he was holding a bowl of nachos.
"Come on. Why the long face? It's bonfire night!" He smiled a little and held up one cheesy nacho close to my face. "Open up."
I shook my head.
Sighing, he took a bite himself.
I sneaked a sad smile. "You're actually talking to me again."
He shrugged.
"Why were you mad at me?"
"I have no idea." He nodded at the nachos again. "Now, for real. I don't have cooties."
And I was suddenly laughing and tearing up at the same time.
I saw the flames from the bonfire swimming in his eyes, and a strange look crossed his face.
"You're a crybaby, aren't you?" he asked softly.
"I know, right?" I ducked my head, still doing the whole laughing and sniffing at the same time. "What's wrong with me? Forks is doing strange things to me."
"I don't think it's Forks doing that."
I swallowed the lump in my throat as he sat down.
"I can be a listener when you need me." He slid a glimpse in my direction. "You know that, right?"
I took in a shuddering breath and gathered my cold hands together. "I made a mistake."
"Want to talk about it?"
I looked down guiltily, buying time until I realized that I couldn't stay silent forever.
"Mike, I don't think Edward's going to leave for Chicago. His father… backed out."
The fire in front of us crackled, and the rolling waves roared as they hit the beach shore. So many people were laughing and eating, and I felt like I was in a whole different world.
"Mr. Masen did something like this last year too, you know."
"What?" I whispered harshly. "Something like this – what?"
Mike poked a tongue on his cheek, deep in thought. "Edward was going to move in with him during winter of junior year. The plan… fell through that time too; his father broke it off last minute."
"Why didn't anyone tell me?" My voice rose, and although I knew it wasn't fair that I was screaming at him, I couldn't help it. "Why am I always kept in the dark? Why didn't –"
"Did you look into that man's eyes, Bella?"
Alice.
She knew.
She knew all along.
"Bella?" A hand landed on my shoulder, shaking me. "Bella, are you all right?"
I weakly twisted away from the touch.
What have I done?
"Bella. Stop beating your head against the wall. It's not your fault."
"But it is."
"It's not. You couldn't have known. It was all before you."
I covered my eyes and shook my head.
Mike sighed, tapping his foot on the sand below.
"You did what you had to do," he told me.
"I thought I was."
"You had good intentions."
"I did." I searched the area around me, but the darkness was pervading. "I wish I could see Edward now. Where did he go?"
Mike snorted but didn't follow up with any word.
"You and Edward…" he finally said, his voice dropping.
I looked at him curiously.
He patted my knee. "Well, what's done is done."
Silence.
"Thanks," I said at last, although I didn't put much energy into saying it. "You always have the best two cents to offer."
He shrugged one shoulder and stared ahead. "I just hope you never forget that he doesn't own you – that you're your own girl."
A memory stirred, and I stared at his profile, taking in his stubble, baby blue eyes, and nearly white blonde hair.
"I think I have too many boys in my life." I chuckled and scoffed. "What a mess."
He smirked. "I think you're right." Then he pointed at a redhead emerging from Seven Eleven. "Go. Go talk to him."
But I was suddenly frozen to the spot.
Fear.
Mike prodded me gently. "I swear he doesn't blame you for any of this. I can promise you that much."
"Later." I frantically gripped onto Mike's forearm. "I'll do it later."
"Scared?"
Panicked, I looked up at him.
"You know how I see it, Bella? The boys. The mess."
I waited.
"In your life," he said calmly, "right now, there's a boy who's a step behind you… like Edward."
I was stilled to silence, eyes widening.
Mike smirked, as if he knew. "And there's another one who's right beside you… like RJ." He held up a hand when I opened my mouth. "Then there's the guy who revolves around you…" He rolled his eyes. "… like Emmett. Then there's me." He placed the bowl of nachos on my lap, for a moment almost pleading me to eat. "And I'm gonna be the guy who's always a step ahead of you."
A step ahead of me?
"That's it." He looked mischievous – smug, even. "Those are my two cents this time."
The bonfire was still going strong despite the thin mist in the air, and Coach stood in front of a big group of school faculty and parents as he went on and on about how our team had kicked the season off with a solid win; he explained how this win should push the boys to the next win and so forth.
My palms were sweaty as I watched Edward, who was just a few steps behind Coach.
His head was slightly tipped forward, and his hands were loosely strewn in front of him.
Those glassy eyes never evaded me, and it hurt me that he was hurting.
"So!" Coach's voice was booming, even in the rain. "Time to say goodbye to our honorary captain, yeah, boys?"
My heart was at my throat.
The team started to laugh raucously, looping arms around Edward's neck and grounding fists in his hair. He was motionless, though.
"For those who don't know this strapping young man…"
Coach's voice faded away in my ears.
Then at last – "You'll be missed, Edward Cullen."
Then followed applause.
As Seth Clearwater, newbie to the team, stepped in and handed Edward a special jersey, the latter did the unexpected.
Edward stiffly shrugged the poor freshman boy off and tore through the slightly befuddled crowd toward the beach parking lot.
Coach called after Edward.
People began to whisper amongst themselves.
I noticed Emmett following his friend through the sea of people, but before I knew it, I was blocking the way and placing a palm on his chest.
"Let me go after him." My fingers on his chest curled in. "Please."
Something flashed across his face, and – "Hurry. You'll miss him."
By the time I reached the parking lot, Edward's car was heading for the exit.
That left me no choice but to tail him.
I held the wheel with one hand, and my phone with the other.
"I'm after him, Coach," I said quietly into the phone. "He's okay. He's…" I bit my lip. "I don't think I'm in the position to say anything, but I'll try to bring him back… Yes, sir… Okay… Thanks… Bye."
Moments later, Edward roughly pulled into his driveway, and he'd barely parked it safely when he climbed out and went into his house.
The lights never came on, and I was scared.
But I was ready now – ready to protect him.
Ready to accept him and his worth.
For a second, my hand hovered over the light switch.
Breathing deeply, I reached for the lamplight instead, and even that was so bright in the midst of all that was fragile in this room.
The soft light warmed the few feet it was surrounded with, but where Edward sat, crouched and curled in, in the corner of the room, it didn't touch.
I took a step forward. "Hey."
No answer.
No movement.
I wish I knew how.
The house was dreadfully empty and white and cold, and that only reminded me how close he'd been to moving to Chicago.
And now it had all precipitated to nothing.
All because of me.
Against the wall a good distance away from him, I too sat on the dusty floor and hugged my legs to my chest.
"Why does no one understand?"
My head popped up.
Edward's eyes peeked over his arms, straight over so they were cast toward the other side of the room, and he sounded as dead like he looked.
"I spend all my nights, unable to sleep. I keep thinking, worrying, and dying, and there isn't anyone who knows. No one knows." He sounded dangerous, on the verge of something. "Not even my own parents."
"I'm sorry." I couldn't look at him. "I should have never pushed you. I was rash. I wasn't looking for the right things. I never should have asked you."
His eyes sharply landed on mine, and he looked livid. "I don't need pity. I'm used to being alone. I'm used to all this." His fist pounded once on the wall beside him as he stood. "I don't need anyone in my life. I never did."
I felt so feeble and powerless.
Before he could walk off, I snatched his wrist into my hand, and held it so tightly that my hand quaked.
"Don't go," I said, wide eyes on his legs. "I don't want to see your back to me ever again. I've seen it enough."
His fist clenched.
I swallowed. "And I need you to accept my apology. It's all my fault."
"I said I don't need it! You don't know anything. I told you – I hate it when you act like you do."
I shook my head fiercely. "But you just asked why no one understood, and I'm telling you that I want to be that person who understands. If you'd just –"
"There's no way," he cut it quietly.
"There's no way?"
"No." There was defeat, finality to his tone. "That's the problem. There is no way anyone can understand me… because I don't understand me myself."
And I stood up, because this was about us too, and I'd lost him countless times already.
I kept my eyes on his pale neck and hugged him in the middle, face gently on his chest that rose and fell, hands connecting on his back.
His hands stayed limp on his sides.
Broken.
"I just want to be normal, Bella."
"Normal? I don't even know what that is anymore – or what is right or wrong. Who made the rules anyway?"
So why did it matter if Edward Cullen happened at the wrong time?
"You just wait where you are, normal or not." I shoved him closer to my body. "I'll come and get you myself."
I was glowing when I felt his hand brush down my hair.
"I never needed an apology," I heard him say, his chin on the top of my head. "I just needed you here."
"Lie down on your stomach."
His lips twitched in amusement.
"Please?" I poked his back, laughing. "Just do it!"
With a smile, he did. I quietly climbed on his waist, straddling him, and kneaded the tight muscles on his shoulders.
He groaned. "What are you doing?"
My hands swept over his back and his arms. "You didn't cool down properly today."
Edward remained quiet, his body relaxing and tensing with each pressing of my palms.
I smoothed out his shirt that had ridden up, and returned to his shoulders. "What athlete doesn't cool down after nearly two hours of intense running?"
"Me, apparently." He surprised me by suddenly sitting up. Pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it aside, he lay on his back this time. "Much better." He stared back when I stared. "What are you waiting for?" He patted his stomach. "I thought you were going to give me a massage."
I tried to flip him over, but he smirked and made me sit on his stomach.
He stretched out his arms to the side and closed his eyes. "I'm sore." He lifted his lips, also lifting my body in the process. "Go on."
His eyes were on my face the entire time I kneaded his muscles.
Picking up his arm, I pressed my thumbs from his shoulder to wrist.
I also touched his shoulders, collarbone, arms, and even neck.
"We've never done this before," I murmured, fascinated at the way his muscles rolled when I touched him. "Why haven't we?"
"Because I was too busy doing this to you instead?" His eyes fluttered close as he groaned. "That feels good."
Smiling, I let my hands drift from his neck to all the way down his chest and stomach.
I ran my thumbs over the subtle, soft ridges there, again fascinated.
In a daze, I pushed my hand back up until it rested right on his chest.
"What happens now?" he whispered out of the blue.
I looked up and studied the living room.
"Everything goes back to the way it was?"
"Back to the way it was?" He blinked lazily up at the ceiling. "But how was everything before?"
"I don't know." I curled my fingers in, hesitant, when his strong hand took my wrist. "I always feel lonely without you. My question is… are you?"
He bent his elbow and laid his arm under his neck.
Each tick of the clock seemed to drag.
"I never thought about that because I can't afford to be that way."
Heart beating, desperation growing, I leaned closer to him. "Then think about it now."
His finger tapped on my thigh.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
Then it stopped.
"I don't want to think about it," he told me. "Thinking about it hurts."
"Then tell me exactly that." My hand was still over his heart. "Why can't you let me in for once?"
"What are you talking about?" The corners of his lips went up. "I always let you in too deep."
I tried to absorb what he was saying.
"You know, no one takes me seriously."
"I take you seriously." My eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe too seriously sometimes."
His eyes were far away. "Back then, when I was living with him, I never imagined that he'd really just buy me a house and let me slip through his fingers so easily."
I felt his heartbeat climb from under my fingertips, and I was amazed at how his face didn't betray it.
But I wanted his face to betray him.
I framed the sides of his face and made my hair fall over us like a curtain.
And hidden like that, we were just us and no one else.
And for some people, what we were going through might seem petty and ridiculous. It could simply be a little prick on their finger. But it wasn't, and that little pain was ours, and because it was ours, it hurt more than the whole world.
He ran his hands up and down my sides, each pass making my camisole roll up higher and higher.
I clutched his hand, stilling it.
We were breathing a little harder than we were a second ago.
He craned his neck forward, briefly touching the tip of his nose to mine.
He sneakily pushed my camisole farther up.
"I'm not soliciting." Smiling sleepily, he kissed me, and it had been so long since the last one before the game. "I just want to feel your skin. I just – I just want to hold you. Are you gonna let me?"
I sighed like a girl in love and let him roll us over and pin my wrists down to the ground.
"Edward?"
"Mm?"
"I… I…" I love you. "Never mind."
He smashed our bodies together and peppered kisses all over my neck.
"You know you have me, right?" I hugged his waist. "You know that you have both my body and mind, right?"
"All mine." He hitched my legs around his hips. "I know."
I closed my eyes, smiling, and gave in.
I wanted to chase off all the shadows in his heart.
Edward and I were a secret.
Not even Emmett knew, although something told me Mike did.
But Mike Newton always knew.
"Is your dad home tonight?" Edward whispered in my ear, backing off only for a moment to nod at Tyler Crowley walking by.
"Yeah." I blinked up at him. "Why?"
His eyes flicked from my eyes to mouth. "Because I want to spend the night with you."
My inner thighs felt tingly.
"Will you let me sneak in?"
"What? No!"
His straight face transformed into one with the cheekiest grin. "My car's always an option."
"No, and – stop." I subtly hid my chest from him. "You're doing the peeking thing again."
Yeah, his back was unusually straight as he tried to look down my shirt.
I picked at my apple slices as his hand flicked at my elbow so, so nonchalantly. Sighing, he melted into his chair.
Emmett stood up and did a handshake as one of the underclassman dropped by our table, and from across me, Mike played with my hair tie.
"How do you wear this thing?" He stretched the band. "This could be a weapon."
I leaned across the table. "Don't stretch it!"
Waggling his eyebrows, Mike flung it upward.
Edward caught it, though, and raised it high in the air when I stretched my arm out.
I resisted the smile. "Give it!"
"Face the other way."
When I didn't, he practically hoisted me up himself. I squealed as he brought my back to him.
He firmly placed my hands on my thighs. "No moving."
"What are you trying to do?"
Then Edward began to meddle with my hair, tugging and pulling, and I understood.
"Was it winter?" I asked him quietly.
"First snow at that time of the year."
I grinned and held up my phone in the air, staring at my reflection.
"This is harder than it looks."
He sounded like a struggling child, and it made me smile.
Then I saw how bumpy my hair looked and began to laugh and couldn't stop.
"Why are you laughing?" But Edward was laughing too. "I'm trying – I swear, I'm trying!"
I guided him the rest of the way, combing my hair back and teaching him how and when to twist the band.
By the time our laughs subsided, we had a lot of people's attention, and the majority of them were giving us weird glances.
I immediately returned to stuffing my mouth with fruit slices.
"This is all your fault." I glimpsed over at Edward, who looked pretty smug as he downed his iced coffee. "I told you we shouldn't eat in the cafeteria."
But Edward bumped his calf to mine and stealthily placed a possessive hand on my inner thigh.
His threatening eyes were firmly on Mike and Emmett from across us. The two boys, to my surprise, returned the look.
Putting his elbow on the table and propping his head upon his hand, Edward lifted a spoonful of ice cream to my mouth. "Sweet girl with a sweet tooth."
My lips parted as the cold spoon glided between them.
He grinned.
"You're treating me like a baby." I reached for the spoon. "Hand it over. You do see Mrs. Stanley by that corner, right?"
"So what?"
I gave him a look.
"You know… I have a sweet tooth too."
I scooped a spoonful too and held it up for him.
But Edward shook his head and fused our mouths together instead.
I kept my eyes closed even as he backed off.
He flicked a finger on my cheek. "The best dessert."
Then he wove our fingers together, so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and kissed the back of my hand.
His eyes, on my face, darkened as his lips stayed on my skin for longer than a few seconds.
His eyes crinkled as he smiled to himself.
My stare fell to our linked, carded fingers.
Almost like handcuffs.
Dangerous.
I was done playing it safe.
I abruptly stood up, the chair legs raking on the tiled floor. "Be right back. I have to call someone. Now, I think."
He left his eyes glued on our slipping wrists until his hung limply.
"I'll come back."
He looked away. "Don't take too long."
"Hello?" I cleared my throat. "Royce, you there?"
"Bella? Oh, hi there. What's up, calling this late at night?"
"It's not that late." I sounded weak as I leaned against a brick wall. "Are you – are you busy?"
Silence.
"Bella Swan. Is this a booty call?"
Despite myself, I snorted.
Laugh. "I'm messing with you."
My smile softened. "I know."
My heart counted the seconds.
"Royce, I can't see you anymore."
Silence, again, but a different kind.
Laugh, again, but a different kind. "What the fuck?"
I palmed my face.
"We haven't seen each other in forever, and you suddenly call me up to tell me this? Is this some soap opera shit you're pulling?"
Silence.
"That's harsh," he said quietly. "Seriously? Over the phone?"
My shoulders fell in defeat. "I don't know. I just – I'm… I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry?"
The deadly sound of the voice made me freeze.
"Why, Bella?"
With bated breath, I gazed over the glass wall of the ice cream store, but there was no trace of Edward.
"You're back together with him, aren't you?" He waited a minute before laughing darkly. "You just answered my question."
I might have thought that he'd hung up on me, but he spoke again, voice unexpectedly crisp and light.
"Well, I guess that's okay." He let out a teasing sigh. "Isn't this what everyone calls unrequited love? I guess it's time I give it a try."
"What are you talking about?"
"Nope, not a word. There's no rejecting in this."
"What? Don't –"
"Oh, try me." He yawned. "Well! I'm doing some last-minute cramming for my exams, so I gotta go. I'll visit you over spring break, all right?"
"But – Royce –"
"See ya, beautiful."
He ended the call.
I stared, dazed, at the blinking number indicating the length of the call when I heard someone approach me.
Edward.
"Is that who I think it is?"
His name escaped me as he cowered me into the wall.
I jumped as he took my phone and threw it in his pocket.
Edward Cullen's anger was never red or out of control.
He had a temper like no other, but it was always blue and cold and chilling and intimidating.
"Are you mad?" I was scared of the answer, though. "But I swear –"
He jerked me close to his chest and wrapped me in his leather jacket. His body welcomed me closer, and I buried my face in his chest.
"Why do you need him when you have me?"
I twisted in his embrace. Was this a dream? "Now you know how it feels."
"And now you're the liar."
I pulled back, frowning, but he looked serious.
"I'm not a liar." I swallowed. "Why do you think I am?"
"You told me you weren't seeing him."
"I'm… not –"
His eyes glazed over. "Liar."
"I'm not a liar." My breath hitched. "I'm telling you the truth. Why would you doubt me?"
Somehow, tables had turned.
"Then come and prove me wrong, Bella Swan."
I met his eyes fully.
He was waiting.
And I spoke up. "I'll let you sneak in tonight." Pause. "And we're going to spend the night together."
His lips twitched, and his eyes dropped to my breasts before going down to the area between my legs.
"And… and…" I turned away, cheeks turning pink. "And you bring those condoms, okay?"
He was smirking now, his eyes dark and hot.
"A bunch." I was whispering at this point, playing with the lapels of his jacket. "Just in case."
He kissed me.
And I hid a smile, forehead to his shoulder.
Edward had never been this expressive, and I wanted him to be more, even.
I wanted him to chase me down until he loved me more than I loved him.
"So when can I expect you?"
He looked down at me with a crooked smile. "At twilight."
"Okay."
He thumbed the button of my jeans. "Then till morning."
I was too stunned for words, so I excitedly bobbed my head instead.
He pinched my cheek, liking that I seemed eager, and kissed it. "Leave your window open."
Edward moved so good.
He pressed distracted kisses on my chin, grinding into me over and over.
"Damn Charlie." He was breathless. "I want to hear you."
My head was pounding because I was holding my breath in intervals – because if I breathed, I would be gasping.
"Can you spread your legs wider?" His eyes were frenzied as he loomed closer and continued to move inside me. "I want to go deeper."
And all of it was so crazy, because I could feel his thrusts all over my body, from head to toe. It felt as though someone was tickling me from the inside, and I didn't know what to do but squirm and thrash in his embrace.
But his hips sped up, so fast, that our bodies were bouncing into and off the bed.
Now, it was impossible, beyond crazy.
By the time I was perched on top of him, my long hair was sticking to my chest, and I almost slid off his legs because our thighs were slippery wet.
Edward pushed off the strands of hair that were covering my chest, and sucked my nipple.
And because I was so drenched that I couldn't feel him inside me and because he kept slipping out of me anyway, I settled with grinding against him.
Edward liked that a lot.
"I want you to kiss me." I closed my eyes, trying to catch my breath and touching my mouth. "Right… right here."
He did, and I loved every moment.
He was so good at tossing me around as he pleased, having no qualms with whispering pretty things in my ear – or grunting naughty ones that made my world crash and burn.
I wondered if I had the same effect on him.
"I want to try something." He traced my earlobe with a tongue, smirking when I shivered. "Are you up for it?"
I fumbled for his thigh, gasping in surprise when he blew air in my ear. "Is it reasonable?"
He simply rearranged me, and I took that as a yes.
I could feel all of him – his chest to hip – pushing down on my back.
And when we reconnected below, it was deeper than ever, and for a second I feared it would hurt me.
But then his hips started to undulate, and I could feel his warm breaths on my cheekbones.
"So, so good." Swallowing a moan, I hunched over and reached for the headboard at the same time he did; it was too intense. "Oh, my God – Edward – I – can't – it's –"
But I took everything he gave me, and when he slumped over me, he laughed in my ear and said, "It would be a miracle if your dad didn't hear all that noise."
We held our breaths but heard no one out in the hallway.
Edward sniggered. "Chief's losing his touch."
I giggled, pushing his sweaty hair back and telling him with my eyes that I was in love with him.
"Bella."
"Yes, Edward?"
He rolled to the side, arm below his head, eyes intense.
"What?" I gently asked, pulling the white sheets over my legs. "I know you want to say something."
"I got a few acceptance letters."
I blinked, heart thumping once. My voice was coarse suddenly. "College?"
He nodded, watching me.
"Oh, that's… awesome. Where?"
"Some in California." He looked away lazily. "Some in Illinois."
"Right…. Right, that's – that's great." I framed his face and kissed his lips. My hand was shaking. "Congrats, I'm so happy for you."
He arched an eyebrow.
His eyes were piercing, and it was hard to look away.
"Any in Washington?" I whispered.
"No."
"No?" I scooted closer, licking my lip. "How do you know? Did you get rejected?"
"I say no because –" his stare wouldn't let me go, "– because I didn't apply to any."
"You didn't?" I blinked furiously, twisting the sheets frantically between my fingers. "Why not?"
He shrugged.
This damaging blow wasn't breaking my heart; it actually felt like heavy, asphyxiating pressure on my lungs, pushing all air out.
My head was hazy again.
Wan, I rested my naked body against my headboard, concentrating on what it all meant.
"Thing is," I heard him say, and he continued to talk.
His voice was the usual monotone, and I was hardly paying any attention until he abruptly stopped.
Suddenly, his last words replayed in my ear.
"What do you mean you're not going to college?" I frowned, taken aback. "I thought you wanted to."
"Yeah, 'wanted to.'" He gave me a look, smile spreading. "Not anymore."
A flicker of hope. "Will you stay in Forks?"
"No."
The flicker, smothered. "Where will you go, then? After graduation."
"Leave."
The flicker, stomped on. "Will you stay for the summer?"
"We'll see."
But I want you to stay for the summer. Can you do that for me? "Oh. Okay. I see. Right. Of course."
Silence.
Pulling my oversized shirt over me, I swung my feet over the bed. They landed with a subtle thud.
"I'm…" I kept my eyes down. "I'm going to make some tea. Do you –" I hung my head, hating my stutter. "Do you want anything?"
"No thank you."
That was when I realized that Edward Cullen hardly said yes for me.
I filled the kettle and turned it on.
As soon as the hiss of fire filled the air, I leaned against the counter. I stayed that way for a while.
Hazy, so hazy.
I just wanted to understand.
"This is nuts," I muttered.
"What's?"
I jumped, hand to my heart. "Why aren't you upstairs?"
Unperturbed, Edward circled the dining table and picked up a piece of brownie I made. "You were taking a long time. I was wondering."
"If you get caught…"
"I won't."
I kept an eye on him as he smoothly slid out a chair and straddled it.
"I should bake you something sometime."
My mouth fell open.
He slowly munched on the chocolate treat, eyeing me.
"Sure." Numb, I spun away from him, turning off the stove, dipping a teabag, and watching it float. "What will you make me?"
"Donno. What do you want to eat?"
"Crème brulee?"
"Okay."
"You know I was kidding."
"Yeah, but it's okay."
I shook my head, amused. "And you know that crème brulee's also one of the harder things to bake, right?"
"No." He paused. "It's okay. It'll be fun."
"Have you baked anything in your life?"
"No."
I cracked a weak smile.
I prepared some tea for him too, and when I sat it down, I quietly pulled out a chair next to his. Having finished his midnight snack, he had now twisted in his seat and was staring deeply at the table calendar I had placed next to the napkins.
He picked it up, face unreadable. "Bella."
I stared at the yellow-green liquid inside the mug, only giving him half my attention.
He called my name again, kicking me a little.
"Sorry, what?"
"It's only March now."
I raised an eyebrow.
"It's only springtime." He reflected me, but grinning. "Summer's far and away as of yet."
Yeah, as of late.
I wanted to pretend now; I hoped he didn't mind.
So I gave him a nod. "Yes, it is."
And he kept his promise, from twilight till morning.
By near morning, my room and bed smelled like him and me, and I had to open the window to let some cold, fresh air in.
We huddled under the blankets, and I stuck my frosty foot on his leg.
"What time is it?" His eyes were closed, tired, bruised.
"Time for school." I glimpsed over to the time. "Almost. You should go home and get ready."
But I wasn't letting him go.
He drew out a sigh and pulled my leg up over his bony hip.
He squinted one eye open, almost winking at me in the peeking morning light. "Can we do it one more time?"
And God, he was hard.
And fast. He was too impatient for slow sex – for… making love.
The idea bothered me, although I tried not to let it.
He was always in a hurry.
Why were we always in a hurry?
Tyler Crowley was one of those boys to whom all the parents compared their sons, but those who really got the whole deal knew that he was a sleazy man whore and a grand opportunist.
And I didn't like where the conversation was heading.
"No wonder your father decided to cancel plans!" Obnoxiously, the boy shoved a hand on Edward's shoulder. "Nice, Cullen."
"False alarm." Edward nonchalantly played with my hair, twirling and twirling. "I guess I'm stuck in Forks till graduation."
Tyler sniggered. "Did he even come to your game last week?"
I flinched, eyes snapping up. "Tyler –"
"No, he didn't." Edward's eyes flicked onto me for a short second. "I guess he had other, more pressing priorities."
"Don't get me wrong, man – and all the chicks are fucking chipper about you staying – but who'd want you!"
"Who would, I know." Edward smirked at his tangled fingers. "I'm a terrible person."
The chair under me screeched as I stood. "Will you stop?"
And I was not speaking to Tyler.
Edward's face betrayed nothing. "Stop what?"
Then, Mr. Wilkins knocked a fist on the whiteboard, gathering everyone's attention, and announced that the guidance counselors were going to visit the class in a moment to help us with our college endeavors.
I quickly dropped back on my seat, and although Edward and I were still sitting very close, there was suddenly a distance.
I wanted him.
I wanted him.
I wanted him.
I tensed as he took my hand and put it on his leg.
"You're not a terrible person," I mumbled.
And there it was – the white stare.
After school, Edward grabbed his soccer materials, and the two of us headed toward the field. Then –
"Mr. Cullen?"
Standing by the agape classroom door was our English teacher.
Edward straightened up. "Yes, sir?"
The man rolled in a finger. "Please step in for a moment; I want to talk to you. No worries; I cleared things with your coach already." He paused. "Miss Swan, you won't be needed."
I was caught off guard when Edward boldly took my wrist and tugged me alongside him into the class.
I saw Mr. Wilkins's eyes flicker between us, and he sighed. "I said just you, Edward."
I bumbled around like an idiot as Edward's grasp on me tightened.
The man sighed again, a hint of a smile I'd never seen finding his face. "You two are inseparable… Fine, then. If you insist."
Edward's eyes narrowed. "Am I in trouble?"
"Not quite." Mr. Wilkins pushed a paper across the desk. "I was merely wondering why you turned this in blank."
I peeked over and realized that it was the worksheet that the seniors had to fill out during English.
It was titled "Future Plans," and all I could see on it was a name, date, and class period scribbled in Edward's handwriting – nothing else.
"I can help you, Edward; that's my job," the teacher said solemnly. "What are you planning on? Four-year college? Two-year college? Vocational school? What do you see yourself doing in the future?"
"None of the above." Edward didn't reveal a thing with that unfazed look. "I don't want to waste my father's money on the schooling I'm not interested in."
"Then what? You're going to look for a job right out of school?"
"No, sir."
Mr. Wilkins sat on the teacher's chair, his hands tented up in front of him. "I'm looking for more than a yes or no answer."
Edward didn't say anything, though.
"Edward," the teacher said, warning in his voice, "the decisions you make now are crucial."
Still no word from Edward.
Sighing loudly, Mr. Wilkins went back up to his feet. He was looking at me now.
"Miss Swan, maybe it's a good thing that you're here. Why don't you put some sense into this boy for me while I drop by the teacher's lounge?"
"What?" I blinked. "Me?"
"Yes, you." He chuckled and headed toward the door. "I'll keep the door closed, but I hope you stay quiet; no teacher's allowed to have students in an unsupervised room."
I was still staring with a slacked jaw as the door clicked close.
Then I heard crackling, and by the time I knew what was going on, Edward had balled the worksheet in his fist and had thrown it in the trash.
I rushed back to him. "Why did you do that?"
He balanced himself on the back legs of his chair, silent and teetering. "I don't need it."
"Of course you need it." I looked into the garbage can. "Wilkins is not going to be happy about this."
He grinned, as if liking that idea, and met my gaze. "But how am I supposed to picture my future when I can't even accept the person I am today?"
His chair creaked with each shift of his weight, and except for the small platter of the rain on the windows, all was quiet.
"I always wonder why things turned out the way they did, when all I ever wanted was the opposite." He spread his knees and put his elbows there. "And then I think about all the ways I could have done differently." The tips of his mouth went up, sly. "I guess I was lying when I told you that I let it all go."
I wanted to say the right things, but I didn't know what they were.
"So how am I supposed to know what I want to do later in life when I don't know what I want to do now?"
"You've asked me that before."
"And I still haven't figured it out."
Hazy, so hazy.
"You know what's worse, though?"
I shook my head.
"I don't think I ever will."
I found Edward beautiful in the winter sun – with the rusty-brown hair and bright eyes – but he was incredible in the spring shower: brown hair turned black, face and body muddy after kicking the soccer ball around for too long, and eyes hooded and dark.
"I feel like a pervert lurking in the boys' locker room so often these days." I trailed a hand down the blue lockers, stopping when I reached the end. I turned to Edward. "You're dripping wet. Are you going to shower here?"
"Think so."
This was our new routine, hiding from the world and preserving our secret as we hung out in the empty locker room after practice.
"You're wet too," he pointed out.
And I was. "The joys of being the soccer manager?"
Edward, smiling, took off his shoes. "So you wanna join me in the shower?"
My eyes widened. "And risk getting caught?"
"If we were going to get caught, it would have happened a long time ago." He smirked to himself, it seemed. "Trust me."
I laughed awkwardly, toeing the ground. "Well, thanks for the offer but –"
I yelped as Edward picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.
I did the whole squealing and wiggling, and he did the whole dumping me in the narrow shower room, turning on the water over our heads.
"You suck!" But I was laughing, the sound echoing. "Now I'm soaking wet!"
His sneaky hand trailed down my stomach and into my tight jeans. "I think I can get you soaking somewhere else too."
And we laughed and clacked teeth and fooled around until I was pushing his squishy jersey up with my hands and his shorts down with my feet.
I wrapped my legs around him as he pushed me into the cold tiled wall.
He smirked, water dripping down his brows and eyelashes. "This is familiar."
"Yep, we've been here before," I whispered, caught in the moment and dazed.
My jeans were clinging to me too tightly, so we never managed to get those off me.
"If you were wearing a skirt, I'd be inside you already."
Kissing was enough for now.
But the small, unwelcomed, well-remembered pieces of the past were slowly resurfacing – pieces that I once wished would surface some time ago.
A part of me was beginning to understand Edward and why he'd tried to keep me away from them.
Yeah, so these stolen kisses in the shower room, between classes, and in my bedroom at night were enough for now.
But deep inside… Is this enough?
Still. I just wanted everything to be the way it was now.
Yeah, to be the way it was now: hazy, confusing, a mystery.
Exactly like this.
…
Exactly like this?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The calm before the last storm…
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