As promised, here's Bella's POV! I hope you're all liking the story and seeing that Edward isn't a total ass.
Enjoy!
Chapter Eleven
Bella
(Friday)
Maybe I was wrong about Edward. Maybe he wasn't the cruel, ego-obsessed, jerk I though he was. Just Maybe.
He was still a jerk, of course, but I don't think that will ever change. Working with him really hadn't turned out to be as bad as I thought it would. It was still strange and a little nerve-wracking to talk to him but once we started, it was almost easy. He'd actually seemed… nice while we worked together. That was very unexpected. Never in a million years would I have thought Edward Cullen could be nice. It didn't last long, though. As soon as the bell had rung, he reverted back into his jerk persona. I guess that's just who he is.
He actually seem rather smart, something that shocked me the most. It's not that I thought he was an imbecile or anything of that sort. It's just that I never would have pegged him for the type to really care about classes and grades. It seemed like all he cared about was his image and his popular status quo.
Maybe those times I'd run into him—literally—had been a stroke of bad luck. Or maybe I'd just caught him on bad days. When I was working with him, he really didn't seem so bad. It was almost too easy to forget the way he'd acted only a day before.
I didn't want it to be easy to talk to him. I think I'd rather prefer him being a jerk to me. I didn't want to get close to Edward. I couldn't. And I wouldn't. The entire time I'd talked to him, I had to keep reminding myself who he was. The jerk that yelled at me for no reason. The jerk that had almost made me cry. Why would I want to be around him?
But just because I didn't want to be around him didn't mean I could avoid him. We had a project to do and I suppose for the time being I could at least try to work with him. Which is exactly why I'm here in the school library.
I had picked a table in the back, hidden behind some shelves. No doubt Edward wouldn't want to ruin his reputation by being seen with The Freak, even if it was only for a class project.
I pulled out my journal to pass the time until he showed up—if he showed up, that is. I wouldn't put it past him to just skip out on me.
Looking over what I'd just created on the page, I finished off a few bits of shading when the chair across from me was pulled out from the table. I looked up to see Edward putting his bag on the floor before taking a seat.
I quickly shut my journal—maybe even a little too quickly as he raised his eyebrow. He looked at me strangely as he sat down but quickly wiped the look off his face. He shook his head as he pulled out some papers from his folder.
We began working again much like we had in class. We would occasionally talk, ask each other about how and what we were going to present. Every now and again, he would go off topic a little, asking me questions that I would prefer not to answer. It's not like he was prying for information about my life, it was actually just a lot of small talk. Do you like Julius Caesar? Do you like Shakespeare? Favorite Shakespeare play? Poem? Sonnet? I didn't like much Shakespeare but he did. I could tell even if he never spoke it out loud. The way he talked about his favorites—the fact that he even had favorites—clued me in enough. I still didn't want to talk with him, though.
Working this closely to him was strange. I'd never thought I would ever be this close to Edward Cullen. Mostly because I wanted to keep my distance from him but also because he never used to acknowledge me. Being this close to him now, though, I noticed things about him that I've never seen before. He had a small scar above his left eyebrow. It was very faint but the pink, puckered skin stood out from the light tanned color of the rest of his face. His eyes were a bright shade of green, light around the pupil and fading out darker, black rings circling the irises. Looking at him this closely without a scowl set on his mouth, he actually looked… unthreatening. I remembered how cute I once thought him to be and I could easily recall why. If I tried hard enough I could even recall how he looked when he smiled at me all that time ago in this very same room.
I looked back down to my paper quickly as he sat back in his chair, stretching his arms up over his head. He moved his hands down to grab the hem of his sweatshirt and pulled it up and over his head. His black T-shirt rode up a little, revealing the bottom portion of his toned stomach before he pulled it back into place. I tried to keep my eyes trained on my paper in an attempt to hide the blush heating up my cheeks. He flung the sweatshirt in a nearby chair.
"Why do they have to blast the heat so much?" He mumbled. "It's hotter than Hades in here."
"The boiler room is right next to the library," I said before I could stop myself. "They keep the heat up so it can reach the whole building."
His eyebrows rose up as he looked me over. He was probably thinking that my nickname really did suit me. Chuckling a little, he picked up his pen again, shaking his head.
"Alright, Miss Know-It-All, we should get back to work if we're ever going to finish."
I followed his example by picking up my pen and continuing what I'd been writing. It was times like this that freaked me out the most. Him being nice and almost… playful. We shouldn't be able to get along like this. He should still want to yell at me for running into him or not working enough or something. That would have been easier to deal with. At least I would know what to do then, but now when he acted like this I was clueless. I usually found it best to ignore it.
I hadn't even realized just how warm it was until he mentioned it. Now beads of sweat were accumulating on my temples and underarms and kept me from concentrating on my work. I fidgeted in my seat and shifted positions often, trying to find a different angle that was more comfortable. Edward seemed to notice this as he looked up at me with a raised eyebrow.
"Why don't you just take off that damn sweater?" he suggested.
"I'm fine," I insisted, not looking up from my essay.
"You're sweating."
"I'm fine."
"At least roll up your sleeves or something."
I couldn't do that no matter how much I wanted to. The bruises sprinkled across my arms were still prominent and would lead to suspicion. The last thing I needed was for him to question me more. Or worse, use as ammo when he gets pissed at me the next time I run into him.
"Why do you even care?" I asked, getting irritated with him.
He looked at me startled, probably not expecting me to take such offense to a simple question. A few seconds passed as he stared at me before he looked back down.
"I don't," he muttered so low I'm sure I wasn't meant to hear as he began to write again.
From then on we worked in silence. He didn't pester me with any more questions or comment on the now stifling heat. He didn't even ask me anything about the project we were here to work on. It was an awkward and uncomfortable silence but I was grateful for it. I was much better off not talking to him. I didn't have to worry about saying anything I shouldn't.
We worked for a long time. I wasn't sure how long it had been but I almost finished my rough draft for my essay by the time I looked up at the large clock on the wall. Sucking in a startled breath, I hastily began shoving my things back in my bag. It was already ten minutes to five o'clock and he normally gets home around five-thirty. I remember mom saying something about being out a little late tonight so it was just me preparing dinner. If it wasn't ready by the time he arrived home, there would be hell to pay.
"What are you doing?" Edward questioned as I crammed my things away. I stood from my chair and slung my bag over my shoulder. "Are you leaving? You can't be done already."
I didn't answer and he didn't seem to appreciate that much. "You can't just leave for no reason. Have you forgotten that we have a project?" He asked snidely.
"I have to get home," I explained while trying to stay calm as I began walking to the doors.
"Wait," Edward called out, no longer sounding as conceited as before. "Are we going to meet again after school next week to finish this?"
"Sure," I said over my shoulder, not stopping my hasty exit. I continued walking out the glass doors and down the hallway, feeling Edward's confused gaze on my back the whole way.
Now he must really think I'm a freak.
xXx
By the time I was pulling my rusty old car up the driveway, I only had just under twenty minutes before he would be getting home. I tore through the pantry looking for something that would be ready to serve fast. I noticed our lack of food and made a mental note to go to the store. That's not something I was looking forward to. He was the only one who would be able to supply me with the money for a grocery run and he didn't like when I asked him for things.
I found a large can of soup shoved way in the back and silently rejoiced. I pulled out a pan and set it down on the closest burner on the old stove. Using a can opener, I pried the top off and dumped the contents in the pan. I turn the burner on as high as it would go, grabbing a large spoon from the silverware drawer to stir it up a bit. My stomach growled a bit as the smell of beef permeated throughout the kitchen. After a few minutes of stirring, I pulled down two bowls from the cabinet above the dishwasher. I was pouring the soup carefully into the bowls as I heard the tires of his police cruiser pull up the driveway.
As I was walking with the soup to the table, the front door swung open and then slammed closed. The bowls began to shake in my hand and I settled them down on the table before I could spill their contents all over the floor.
I heard his loud footfalls drawing closer to the kitchen before I saw him. When I did see him, he didn't look happy.
"You know I don't like soup, Isabella," he calmly stated in a menacing tone.
Actually, no I didn't, I would have said if I wasn't so terrified of the man before me. "I-it was the only thing left in the pantry," I hurriedly explained. "I need to go to the store to restock it."
He reached over and swung open the door to the pantry, looking around to check my story.
"Next time," he hissed, taking long strides until he was across the table from me. "Don't wait so long to go shopping. Get off your lazy ass and get things done around here." He pulled out his wallet and slammed money down on the table in front of me. With a shaky hand, I picked up the bills and folded them into my pocket.
The second I looked down to put the money away, he came around to my side of the table. I gasped as he flung one of the bowls at me and piping hot soup soaked my jeans and seared my skin. He fisted his large hand in my hair and pulled my head back to stare up at him. My heart hammered as he glared down at me. I wanted to turn my head away from his hateful dark eyes but his grip on my hair was too strong for me to break.
"Clean this fucking mess. And while you're at it, you will clean the rest of this house from top to bottom," he ordered, giving my hair a good yank to remind me who was in control. "If it's not completely clean by eight tonight, you will be in big trouble. You got that?"
I tried to nod my head, too afraid to talk. His fingers unlatched from my hair as he took a step back, his dark eyes never leaving mine. He stomped down the hallway to his room, slamming the door behind him so hard it trembled. I pulled in a breath, trying to calm myself down before hurrying to the laundry room to throw my pants into a load. Grabbing a thin pair of sweats from the dryer I pulled them on. Going back to the kitchen I cleaned the majority of the cooled soup off the floor before it stuck. I left the kitchen again, throwing the bowls in the sink and grabbing the cleaning supplies from the hall closet.
I stayed silent as I cleaned, never daring to make any unnecessary noises. I swept and moped and scrubbed, wiped, rinsed, and dried every surface of the house. By the time I was done it was nearly eight-thirty and I was silently delighted that he hadn't realized I'd overstepped my allotted time. As soon as I'd finished, I retreated to my room for the night. My stomach was still turning and complaining from the lack of nutrients but my pounding heart kept me from leaving my room. There was no way I would chance crossing paths with him again tonight, no matter how hungry I was.
I decided on going to bed early, having nothing else to do. In my haste to get dinner ready—one that ended up wasted anyway—I'd left my bag with my journal by the front door. Going to bed on an empty stomach was never a preferable choice but tonight it seemed unavoidable.
As I laid in bed, I looked out my window up at the shining stars peeking through the clouds. If there really was a wishing star up there somewhere, I wish more than anything to get out of this life. I wondered briefly about what it would be like to have the same fate as Sleeping Beauty. My one wish would be for a Prince Charming to swoop into my life and wake me from this nightmare.
xXx
(Monday)
I woke up later than I normally would for a school day and didn't even try getting out of bed. My head was pounding in a throbbing head ache and I was feeling more exhausted than I did before going to bed the night before. My body ached but it was different than the normal achiness I was used to. He'd left me alone all weekend—something I was unbelievable happy and scared about. Happy because I wasn't forced to suffer through his black moodiness and hatred. Scared because now I could now only wait for him to strike next.
The achiness I was feeling now was more of a stiff and tired feeling all over my body that ran through my muscles and deep into my bones. I wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep. And never wake up… But that was too dangerous a thought to be thinking so I quickly shook it from my head.
As always, I waited until I saw his back retreating down the driveway before leaving my room. But this time instead of heading to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day, I walked tentatively towards their bedroom and knocked on the door. There was no answer so I pushed the door open a little to look inside.
It had been so long since I'd laid eyes on this room. It was much, much larger than mine of course. It was the master suite, after all. The small tv in the corner was on and the news played on the screen at a low volume. The curtains over the windows were closed, keeping most of the outside light from entering. On the large king sized bed in the center of the room, there was a figure under the covers.
Walking over to the bed, I pulled the covers down a bit until I saw mom's face. She looks so innocent when she was asleep. She didn't look anything like the woman that basically abandoned me. I didn't want to see her like this. Shaking her side quickly, she jolted awake with a gasp. Her eyes landed on mine and opened her mouth to talk, looking befuddled. However, before she got the chance to ask why I'd woken her, I cut her off.
"I'm not feeling well today," I said, forcing my voice to sound weaker and frailer that it already did. "Could you please call in sick for me at school?" I backed up a bit as she sat up and pushed the covers away from her.
"I'm not sure, Bella," she said. "You know how you father would feel about you staying home." I closed my eyes briefly and tried to hold back my shutter at her casual way of referring to him as my father.
"Then don't tell him," I said softly, very aware that I had stooped to begging. "Please."
Sighing and shaking her head, she begrudgingly climbed out of bed and agreed to call the school. I smiled at my little victory as I watched her walk down the hall. On my way back to my room, I heard her pick the phone up from its cradle and punch in the numbers. I shut my door quietly and crawled back into my small, warm bed, pulled the blankets up over my head and drifted away into a much needed sleep.
Every now and then throughout the day I would wake up for a few fleeting moments and float back into unconsciousness. I was far too tired and much too sick to stay awake for long.
Sometime between those brief periods of awareness, I was jerked awake by rough hands and a gruff voice. The words sounded far away but they dripped with sickening venom. I opened my blurry and disoriented eyes to figure out what had happened. I was greeted with dark eyes, the same color as my own. Eyes I'd always desperately tried to not make contact with.
His hands gripped my shoulders and pulled me up a few inches before slamming me back down, yelling at me the whole time. My head fell back against the pillows but with the headache still pounding through my head, they could have been cinder blocks. He made a fist around my upper arm and squeezed what little muscle I had there, pulling sharply until I landed belly-down on the floor. He kneeled down, his knee pressing in between my shoulder blades and pushing the air out of my already haggard lungs. I felt—and heard—the bones in my back crack as I frantically tried to fill my lungs back up with the much needed oxygen. His hand fisted in my hair and yanked my head to the side, pressing my head sideways into the carpet. At this angle I could see mother standing in the doorway. I wasn't able to see all the way up to her face but I knew she could see mine.
'Why?' I asked her silently. 'Why did you tell him?' I knew she saw the question in my eyes even though she didn't answer. She didn't have an answer. I desperately wondered if she ever would.
xXx
(Tuesday)
I was home again. This time, though, it was under his orders. A nasty looking rug burn was engraved in the side of my face and he didn't want me to go show it off.
The cold I had went away so it left me with little to do around the house. I suppose I could go to the front room and watch television but I haven't done that in years. I would have no clue what shows there were to watch. I mostly just cleaned up around the house. Periodically I would put some of mom's Aloe lotion on the burn and down some aspirin as needed.
Last night, he had made a mess of the kitchen while he was mad, or drunk—or both. Neither of them had cleaned it up either. How thoughtful, I said to myself dryly.
It at least gave me something to do. I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor when I realized how bad things have gotten. Last night was bad. He rarely ever got like that. Maybe my sickness amplified the pain. Maybe I had imagined him being so rough with me. But the tender burn on my cheek told another story. Maybe it was getting worse…
How much longer could I stay here? How much longer could I fight?
I'm not sure. I really didn't know how much longer I could last in this house. And that though scared me more than he did.
xXx
(Wednesday)
I was able to be back in school on Wednesday. The burn looked less red and was taking on a fainter pink hue. It still stung to the touch but otherwise it was unnoticeable.
How much school work have I missed? I wondered as I grabbed my history book from my locker. I've never missed two days of school in a row before. I just hope I'll be able to juggle all the extra school work and the English project.
"Where the hell were you?" I turned on my heel to see Edward standing behind me looking only slightly annoyed.
"Well hello to you, too, Edward," I said in a fake cheer filled voice and plastering on an obviously faux smile just to get on his nerves before turning back to my locker.
His voice took on a more frustrated and irritated edge as he began again, "I said, where the hell—"
"Edward."
I whirled around to the sound of a new voice. Alice Brandon was standing by, glaring at Edward. At her side was Jasper. He was staring at me with a blank expression and I turned away from him quickly, uncomfortable.
"Butt out, Alice," Edward growled. "It's not your problem."
"Just leave her alone," she fired back. I was confused by the fight happening between the two of them. They were friends, right? Maybe I missed something by being gone the past few days. Before I had enough time to dwell on it, Alice glanced at me before looking back at Edward. "What do you want with her anyway?" She didn't ask it out of malice, just pure curiosity.
"I just want to know where the hell my English partner has been," he said, turning his icy glare to me. "If you think you can get out easy and have me do all the work, you're seriously mistaken." I felt my irritation growing right along with his. This conversation is getting old.
"We have weeks to work on the assignment," I reminded him sternly. "What's it matter if I miss two days?"
He glared for a second, seeming lost for words. I grinned happily at his discomfort.
"Just don't let it fucking happen again," he said lowly before storming off down the hallway.
"Don't mind him," Alice said. I'd almost forgotten his friends were standing so close and I turned back to face them. "He has a terrible temper at times," she finished with a smile. Okay, I definitely know they are friends. Or were. Why is she saying things like that about him? Maybe Alice really isn't someone I should trust. Not if she sells her friends out like that, at least.
I glanced over to Jasper to find him staring at me in a calculating way. I looked away from his scrutinizing gaze and muttered that I had to get to class before closing my locker and walking away.
Along the way, I wondered for what seemed like the millionth time what Edward's problem is. Why is he so easy to set off? He's even like that when he talks to his friends.
Or maybe it's because of his friends. The way his friends seemed to be on my side would upset anyone. I know if I had any friends that I wouldn't want them sticking up for Edward. Maybe that's why he hates me so much. Or at least part of the reason.
From now on I should really steer clear of Alice, as well as the rest of Edward's friends. As long as we have a project to work on, I might as well try to stay on his good side.
It's going to be a long few weeks…
Chapter 12 will be up next Monday!