It's only been two and a half weeks! I feel proud of myself because I've been freelancing for a local newspaper on top of working full time.
I've had some questions about the timeline for the story, and I actually have an answer. The story is in four parts: Part I is 1-33, Part II is 33-60, and the other two aren't mapped out entirely, but I estimate 10-12 chapters each, plus an epilogue... if you haven't had enough by the end.
~Mandala M.
Intox 54
I rode home with my arms folded across my chest. My mouth was nonexistent, a mere line across the bottom of my face. Carlisle knew by my silence and screaming body language that I wasn't going to talk. He would have been an idiot to think otherwise.
We walked the stairs to the landing together, my feet heavier than Carlisle's. I ignored Alice, who had bounded downstairs to greet Bella, and brushed past her on my way to the living room where I flopped face first onto the couch, pulled a pillow over my head and didn't move until Esme shook my shoulder for dinner.
Esme and Carlisle talked quietly, their intimate voices a reprieve from the stony silence that filled the other chairs at the table. The rest of us ate silently and wished Bella was here to give us an excuse to talk to each other. Edward and Alice glanced at each other and then, almost as if reading the other's mind, at me.
My plate looked like a vegetable slaughterhouse. I picked absently at the carnage and waited for them to ask me what my problem was. My brain flipped through a catalog of things I ought to be doing instead of waiting. None of those things involved wasting time at family dinner.
"So, Jay, are you coming jogging tomorrow?"
I looked up at my brother with dead eyes. "I thought it's supposed to rain."
"That's the point of mud," he grinned, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "You splish. You splash. You get dirty. It's more fun that way."
If by more fun he meant better rush, I was sold. My muscles had just forgiven me from the punishment I'd put them through Saturday morning. I was gung-ho and ready to conquer weakness again. Edward was a good salesman.
I shrugged and speared a carrot. "Yeah, sure. Wake me up."
Our feet pounded the soft earth. Mud, kicked up through the pre-dawn air, speckled our legs. The landscape sped past in a soft gray blur of mist and rain, a new sensation of surrealism that seemed in place with the moment. Despite the falls we'd taken because of unsure footing, it was hard not to grin as we came within sight of the house. The body was a machine, the mind it's master.
Edward was having trouble keeping the dumbshit smile off his face, too. He leaned against the wall, laughing as he caught his breath, and I sat on the concrete garage apron. He ran a dirty hand through his mop of unwieldy hair and made a futile attempt to swipe away the mud from his fall. I looked at my knees and diagnosed them bruised and dirty but not broken from my own slip.
"Bleeding?" asked Edward as I prodded my legs.
I shook my head. "You?"
"Huge fucking bruise," he chuckled, rubbing his hip.
We stripped to bare minimum in the garage before making a run for the showers. Esme knew we were tracking mud, but she didn't peek out of the kitchen in time to catch us. We were ghosts – ghosts that would have to clean up after themselves before heading to school.
The shower took longer than anticipated - I'd been caught up in a daydream of Bella that involved lots of mud and moaning - so by the time I draped a towel over my hair and padded downstairs my stomach was growling and Carlisle had long gone. In a way, I was relieved by the chance at family breakfast. I was always rushing off in the mornings, and it felt rude to ignore Esme when she tried so hard to make me comfortable in her home. She was especially busy on Tuesdays; I would have been a complete ass to brush her off today.
I swallowed my pills with a pint of water and sat down at the table. The platter of eggs and pancakes in the center of the table had been hacked at. I surveyed the scene thoroughly. Plates were absent, but evidence remained in the hot sauce and syrup stuck to the table. After a cursory glance at Esme, I pulled the serving plates to me, dumped the leftover eggs over the remaining pancakes and topped it all with syrup.
Alice made a face into her textbook. Edward rubbed his face and watched me devour the small mountain of food. I didn't know where the sudden appetite had been hiding, but I liked it. Food didn't taste like cardboard anymore. Now that it was back, I realized how much I'd missed flavor.
The cigarette between my lips flickered to life as soon as my feet hit asphalt. It had waited patiently for the drive to school, pale and unconsumed, while I tapped my fingers on the arm rest. Now, it roared to life in an orange flare of butane and smoke, the nicotine sliding into my lungs. It swam through my arteries, soothing tight muscles and healing the shattered nerves that had been preventing me from doing this a long time ago.
It was ashes by the time I reached the administrative building and opened the door. The receptionist looked up and paled when she saw me enter. She finished her phone call and turned reluctantly, her face dour. I shifted in place as she studied me.
"I need to speak with the principal," I said and scratched my shoulder.
The woman was dubious but admitted me after I insisted to the point of belligerence that it was important. She pointed me toward the door. My heartbeat picked up to a flutter. I gulped in a breath of confidence and entered quietly. Proximity was uncomfortable. Uncomfortable was threatening, and I didn't want to hurt my chances. I kept my distance.
He motioned for me to sit. I paced instead.
"Mr. Hale." His tone was dangerous.
I turned suddenly and leaned across his desk. My splayed fingers gripped the edge of his desk as I cut through the bullshit. "Let me graduate," I pleaded.
He had not expected this. Not from me. A slight widening of the eyes was the only change in his expression. It didn't take a genius to know the answer would be "no."
He pulled up my record on the monitor and read off my absences (too many), my grades (too low) and my antagonism toward the institution (too heinous). I tried to bargain – shit, I tried everything short of begging – but couldn't budge the law. Its arm was too strong.
At least he wrote me a late pass when the bell rang. I was defeated but not discouraged. If going to the top wouldn't work, I'd do the underhanded thing and win over the underlings. A couple didn't hate me, and the rest just wanted me gone. I took turns throughout the day appealing to their reason and animosity until my Latin teacher agreed to stay after school and tutor me. It was a small step, but I'd take forward progress any day.
When I leapt the steps to Bella's porch an hour later than I promised, she answered the door before I could knock. She was on the phone. I knew by the chatter on the other end that it was her mom; she always called her mom when upset. I kissed the corner of her lip and shot her a questioning look before taking up post on the arm of the couch.
They were discussing plane tickets and dates. My heart sank as it became obvious she was leaving. Though I didn't understand what I'd done wrong, I wanted to let myself out and save her the trouble of breaking the news to me. Some things I just couldn't handle being laid bare.
"Babe, we're not doing anything for Edward's birthday, are we?"
I looked up and shook my head. What the fuck did I care about Edward? She was leaving me, and God knew how long I had until the loneliness came back. She could have told me, could have warned me that it was ending before it began. She made my head spin, but I needed the catharsis in my life. She was the reason for my actions, the cause to my effect. I needed her or the pressure of life would crush me. Why would she leave?
Bella hung up the phone and sat by me on the couch a few minutes later. After a minute she knelt on the cushions and turned to me. She had a huge grin on her face, and I just wanted to wipe it off.
"When were you going to tell me?" I demanded hoarsely.
Her eyes didn't lose their sparkle as she slid her hand into mine. "I just got the tickets tonight, silly, so… now?"
When I didn't return her grin, her features drooped. Her posture, however, refused to curl in on itself. Defying my scowl, she leaned over and tried to pry my lips into a smile, but it was no use. I was a statue.
She shook her head and started talking animatedly about home. Her eyes brightened as she spoke, and I knew she was excited to return. Who wouldn't be excited for sunshine after living in rain? If she wanted to go, I couldn't force her to stay. I knew it had to happen eventually. I just hadn't expected it to be so sudden.
"Why did you move here if you like it there so much?"
She sighed, lost in thought as she wiggled my fingers for me. "Phil was… how do you say it?"
My mind jumped to conclusions. I stiffened. "Did he hit you?"
"No!" Her eyes widened in surprise, horrified at my mistake. "It's just that, well, have you ever seen two people so wrapped up in each other that there's no room left for you?"
I nodded, remembering what it was like to be in the room with Emmett and Rosalie for too long. They weren't subtle about it, either. Their flame was a fire that scorched anyone present until they fled. If you were ignorant enough to stick around, you learned that lesson quickly.
"Phil's a nice guy, but he took over my job. He takes care of my mom now," she said, thankfully ignoring my slip of tongue. "I still like to visit a couple times a year, though. I can't always live with a cloud over my head."
I didn't know whether she meant a metaphoric cloud, but my mind had just registered that she'd purchased roundtrip tickets. It was bad – but not that bad. Holy shit, I was dense.
"How long?" I mumbled as I kissed her fingers. She pulled them away just enough so I had to meet her gaze. As usual, it was half obscured by hair. I brushed the offending veil back and tucked it behind her ear.
"It's just two weeks," she promised with a smile.
My head fogged when I saw her lips curve upward. She dazzled me enough to lose my footing. I staggered toward the precipice I'd been avoiding so carefully. Our kiss was so tentative that I hardly felt it. I moved away and traced my thumb across her lips and the smooth curvature of her jaw, surprised at what I'd done. It felt dangerous; it felt good.
I kissed her again, chastely, and watched her eyes flutter as she responded. Her hands rested against my chest and then hooked over my shoulders, pulling me closer and deepening the kiss. I teetered on the edge, and then her tongue ran across my lips and I went over, free falling into the abyss.
We toppled over onto couch cushions with a collective gasp, and I barely caught myself. She giggled when I tried to huff an apology and pulled me closer instead. I complied willingly. My normal brain, which would scream "what the fuck are you doing," was gone, lost somewhere in the haze of the fall, the hormones and the desperate want emanating from my gut.
She propped herself up by her elbows and shook her hair out so it wouldn't get caught. My fingers gathered her hair and tied it up at the base of her neck, out of the way, without breaking away from the kiss as we edged farther onto the couch.
I reveled in the sweet taste of her tongue against mine as our kiss deepened. Her hands snared in my tousled hair and pulled me tight against her. Spread and tangled as we were, it was impossible to ignore my desire. Merciful saints in Heaven did I need air.
I rested my forehead against hers, trying to rein myself in and gain clarity on the situation. One hand hovered over her hip, grazing the denim; she put her hand over mine and guided it onto her waist. Our breathing was shallow, ragged, as our lips met again.
I was lost in the sensation of her smooth skin. My hand ran over her curves, exulting in the simplicity of the high. It wasn't chemical, it wasn't measured, diluted or sold on the streets. It was primal. Natural. Skin. Touch. Her. Everything. Bella.
On the coffee table, my cell phone buzzed loudly and skittered across the polished surface. I groaned and fumbled for it, trying to silence it. The phone danced over the table's edge and hit the floor within arm's reach. I picked it up and read the caller ID. Esme.
Fuck.
"Yullo?" I propped myself up on my elbows and tried hard not to sound completely out of breath and interrupted.
She wanted to know if I needed a ride home. Oh, sweet Esme. Lovely Esme. Lovely, well-intentioned, horribly timed Esme. I looked around for the clock but couldn't tell how late it was.
"Time?" I mouthed to Bella. She searched the room quickly for a clue. Finding nothing, she shifted her hips beneath me and wrestled for the cell phone in her pocket. The movement caught me by surprise; my breath hitched audibly, but I bit my lip to stifle a groan.
"Are you okay?" came Esme's voice over the line.
"Yeah. Touched a hot burner," I replied with a slight hiss, my eyes on Bella. Her face was flushed, and I knew she'd felt my arousal. Brown eyes danced as she held up the phone. My eyes widened.
6.23 pm
Holy Jesus, it was a wonder her dad hadn't walked in on us. He should have been home already. I should have left by now. Where had the time gone?
In the background, Esme was giving me advice on treating burns, and I floated back to Earth with a bird's eye view of just what I'd gotten myself into. My heart sank. I'd promised her, Ed and myself that I wouldn't do this. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fucker fucking fuckity fuck. Just … fuck.
"Pick me up," I said, suddenly needing space, fresh air... and a cigarette. Maybe two cigarettes. "I'm ready now."
Bella gaped at me in disbelief as I extracted myself and tumbled onto the floor. She sat up, re-situating her shirt, and glared. "What the hell?"
"I have to go," I said, stuffing my phone back into my pocket, quickly adjusting myself in the process.
"Are you mad at me?"
I grabbed my cigarettes from the table and tapped one into my hand before pocketing the rest inside my backpack. "No."
"At least tell me what I did wrong!" she pleaded, following me to the foyer.
"Nothing." I tugged on my shoes.
"You're angry."
"No," I said slowly, looking at her swollen lips rather than her watery eyes, "I'm not."
She squared her jaw, but her voice still wavered when she spoke. "I hate it when you lie to me."
Her words hurt. My fists clenched around the strap to my backpack. I stood and looked at the ceiling, fighting the usual, antagonistic response that accompanied that particular emotion. As usual, I lost.
"Look, I've got a thousand things to do and you aren't one of them," I said flatly.
A glance at her told me the words had come out of my mouth wrong. She slapped me across the face. I hadn't seen that coming, and she packed a punch. I staggered back a step and stared at her in surprise.
Was I the world's biggest idiot? "That's not what I meant."
"Just leave," she said, pushing me toward the door. Her touch was light, but I was sensitive to it. It felt like being pushed from a moving car. I panicked.
"But I'll see you tomorrow?"
Her entire face expressed distaste. She opened the screen door for me and I backed out.
"Babe?" I was begging now.
"Jasper."
"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I didn't mean to, and - and I'm stupid enough that it happened-"
She cut off my universal apology abruptly with a "see you tomorrow" and shut the door in my face. Blood rushed in my head. My fists throbbed where my fingernails had dug in. I cursed and skulked down to the street to wait for Esme.
I did see Bella on Wednesday, though I missed breakfast and the few words we exchanged at school were tense. Eventually, consumed by the idea that her shoulder would get icier with every attempt I made, I stopped trying to talk. Self loathing affixed itself to my brain permanently. I was desperate for her to forgive me, and I threatened to get down on my knees in front of the school and beg her to come over.
"Fine," she said. It wasn't what I'd hoped for, but it would do.
By the time she actually drove over for dinner, though, I wasn't one for polite company. Somewhere in the hour I'd spent with Andalano, he had wrung my brain and left it to dry. Who the fuck was he to call me a contradiction? I wasn't a hypocrite any more than he was a real psychiatrist, the phony bastard. Even if he was a walking medical supply house, I would quit meeting with him in a second the next time he suggested that.
Alice felt my mood and made herself scarce when I entered the living room. Edward was more daring but eventually turned the news off and slunk away, unnerved by my quiet rage. The front door opened and closed, but Bella stayed with Alice and Edward. Esme peeked her head through the door twice to make sure I hadn't disappeared - I had a habit of doing that - but didn't approach.
They ended up keeping Bella's company over dinner while I glowered at my plate. The more I noticed the wicked bender of a mood I was in, the angrier I felt. It was unreasonable to be this upset. I'd fucked everything up to this point with my various transgressions, and I didn't understand why or where they'd come from so suddenly. It had been a tornado in my gut... so natural, so quick to feel this way. It was my fault.
If that wasn't enough, Bella was here, which meant she would be judging my reactions. She would notice. I needed a buffer zone, and that's where Alice came in. After dinner, I stared at her pointedly until she looked between me and Bella and got the hint. She came with us to the music room, running a continuation of dinner conversation while I ignored them.
Alice and Bella sat across the room giggling and talking about clothes while I repeated the same two chords like a skipping CD. Their voices were low, but I could still make out a bit of the conversation. I didn't like that Alice was browbeating my Bella into shopping with her. The results would be disastrous if she got her way. There was a good chance I would not recognize my girlfriend, and if not, I would be angrier than I was right now.
My trance released with the twang of a sour note as one of my strings broke. I'd missed the chord, broken the music, halted the song. My muscles were so tense that my brain actually had its own pulse. I glared at the two of them, blaming them for my error. Bella glanced at me, her words dying on her lips as she saw my expression. She actually looked sheepish. Alice turned, too; her face lost all trace of mirth under my stormy expression.
"Could you put a lid on the chatter box?" I snapped.
Alice winced and tugged on Bella's arm. She nodded her head toward the door. The two of them shared a fucking mental moment before Bella shook her head, frowning. She turned to me, and her eyes were dangerous.
"Go scream in someone else's ear," she retorted. "We're being quiet."
My jaw clicked, a physical warning that my boiling point was rapidly approaching. I placed my guitar down reverently and took a deep breath. When I spoke, none of my efforts made it through the chill in my voice. "Get the fuck out."
Alice scrambled to her feet and pulled her partner with her. She knew what happened when I was pissed. Bella didn't. Bella couldn't read me and react properly like Alice. She was indignant when she should have been relieved.
"You invited me," she said, still resisting.
"And now I'm telling you to leave," I snarled through gritted teeth.
The surprise of my reaction knocked her off balance enough that Alice pulled her through the door in a quick motion. I expected enough of a reprieve from the noise to calm myself, but I'd barely begun to restring my guitar before the door opened again and Bella stalked over.
"Why are you doing this?" she demanded.
I looked up into her dangerous eyes and understood immediately that I'd lose this fight on the ground. She'd probably stomp on my kneecaps. I stood, towering over her to gain leverage in a one-sided argument.
"I have a headache," I snapped back. "It hurts."
"Bullshit. What's your problem?" She tried to jab me, but we were too close.
"Right now, it's you," I said bitterly. It was her. It's always fucking her. "You're too stupid to know what's good for you."
"You mean, to do what you say?" laughed Bella. "So I guess Alice is your A-plus student?"
Ouch. "Fuck you."
"In my dreams," she retorted, blushing furiously despite herself. I was stunned into silence.
I'd never thought about it, never considered the fact that my angel-eyed Bella might feel that way. I'd wrapped myself in knots worrying about how to control my impulsive, irrational, destructive self around her. I'd never even considered that I wouldn't be forcing myself on her.
The revelation wasn't as relieving as I thought it would be. It opened the door to another league that I hadn't been in since Maria. It meant pushing boundaries and explaining things, and I couldn't deal with that right now.
I shook my head and sighed heavily. "Remind me: why are we fighting?"
"Because you're being an ass," she replied dryly. My lips curled at the edges. This girl had attitude.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," I consented.
She let me wrap my arms around her and pull her against me. I kissed her forehead and rubbed small circles between her shoulder blades. She relaxed with a sigh, and only then did I dare look her in the eyes.
"I was never angry at you," I promised.
She searched my face for telltale signs of sarcasm or insincerity and found none. She pressed her cheek against my chest, and I felt her smile against me. She breathed warmth through the fabric of my shirt. We swayed in place, neither of us wanting to ruin the truce.
"Tell me about it someday," she mumbled into my chest. "Please?"
I nodded into her hair. "Forgive me," I whispered. "It was never about you."
Bella inclined her head to me, her face difficult to place. "Of course," she said, her answer a silent promise.
I kissed her, and everything disappeared until it was just us. Those two words made the world feel right to me.
Leave me a review, if you please. This chapter was nerve-wracking to write! ~M.M.
