I hate that I'm still awake. I hate it. I do. Because my alarm just went off, and I've been awake since this same exact time yesterday, wearing the exact same outfit as, wondering if Charlie made enough coffee for the both of us. I glance outside, at the fog-free air and the blanket of fresh snow on the ground. It's beautiful, simply breathtaking.
Until you notice the transparent daggers on the trees that say "Hey, you're going to be driving at -2 miles-per-hour today!". I consider crawling into bed and giving the school the middle-finger salute. Instead, I go take a cold shower to wake myself up.
By the time I'm tearing a comb through my hair, Charlie's taken off – something about a bear attack? – shouting a goodbye up the stairs after her. I already know she's neglected breakfast this morning, but that's alright in my book. I grab a quick oatmeal bar and canned coffee, ready to slide my happy little ass to school. And then I remember her.
Edythe Cullen. What is it about her that gets to me? We barely speak, and then I'm spilling my guts to her. Like we've known each other for ages. And those eyes... that skin... there's something that's not quite right, but I can't bring myself to stay away. I want to know more, I need to know more. It's like her every breath pulls me in to her. I swallow the lump in my throat and inch down the driveway.
I hyper-focus on the road, driving slowly even without any traffic within striking distance. I play music, I think about assignments, I yawn, I do whatever it takes to not get distracted. I try not to think about Edythe's handwriting, about way she bites her lip... I shake my head. Something feels wrong about this. I've never fixated on a girl like this before. Never. I don't even remember the last time I had a crush. Maybe it's just part of being the new student. Mysterious new student, mysterious local. It's like a bad Lifetime movie. At least I got a good handful of awesome friends thanks to being new.
To my surprise, The Thing travels smoothly on the ice. I mean, I still drive like an old man simply because this thing is completely solid, and the last thing I want to do is carve a path of destruction down main street. Yet. I slide from the truck and, to my surprise, notice a soft silver gleam near my feet. Chains, lovingly wrapped around the tires. Charlie. Had to be her. I wipe a happy tear from the corner of my eyes, closing the door and taking my phone out to send her a thanks over the phone.
I hear something strange. A high-pitched screech, every second making it painfully loud. I look toward the sound, rounding my truck, and realize that I'm about to die.
I see several things simultaneously, adrenaline making everything clear and focused. Edythe Cullen standing four cars down from me, staring on in horror, her face standing out from a sea of fear. But of more immediate importance is a dark blue van, tires locked against the brakes, spinning across the parking lot, barreling at my truck.
With me standing in between. My breath vacates my lungs. I close my eyes and wait.
Just before I hear the crunch of the van breaking my spine in two against the truck bed, something hits me hard, and not from the direction I expected. My head cracks against the blacktop, something solid and cold pinning me to the ground. I lay on the pavement, not really noticing anything other than the van still coming at me, having curled around the end of the Thing.
A low curse makes me realize someone else is here, and the voice is impossible not to recognize. Two bony white hands shoot out protectively in front of me, and the van shuddered to a stop not even a foot from my face. The hands fit perfectly into a massive dent in the side of the van, moving in an impossible blur. One gripping under the van, my body being dragged like a rag doll until my legs are right against the wheels of the car beside mine. A loud, metallic groaning pierces my ears and I can see the van settle into place, glass shattering onto the asphalt — exactly where, not even a second earlier, my legs had been.
It is silent for an eternal second, and then the screaming starts. I can hear multiple voices calling out my name, the driver's name, sending my eyes into a frenzy trying to find the specific people. Then right in my ear, Edythe Cullen's voice, soft and frantic, whispers.
"Beau, are you okay?"
"Y-you... you..." My voice is strained, my hands trembling as the rush of what just happened hits me like a block of cement. I go to sit up, breathing deeply as I push myself onto my hands, but I'm barely able to move. I notice Edythe, her body trapped against mine, comically cradling my torso like a panicked mother. Her grasp is like solid steel. And it's getting tighter. Her chest against mine, I can feel the beat of her heart. Slower than a person in deep sleep. Slower than possible to be alive.
Suddenly, things are starting to add up. Which is saying something; I've never been good at math. She caresses my cheek and lowers me to the ground.
"Easy there, you hit your head hard..."
"I ... o-ow!" I notice a sharp ache centered above my left ear, my eyes watering from the unusual sensation.
"That's what I thought." Her voice is sorrowful, not at all matching the slight smirk in her smile. I stare at her, amazed that she's even here at all. No one can move that quickly. No one can be that strong – not even her nephew's girlfriend, Emma, who is made of beef. I can't believe it... she really is something extraordinary.
"How did you get over here so fast?" I ask, my voice wavering, excited. Her smile vanishes and she leans in, her voice level. Grave. Threatening. My heart races.
"I was standing right next to you the whole time, Beau."
I turn to sit up and this time she lets me, releasing her hold around my chest and sliding as far from me as she can. I watch her concerned face, worried eyes, still shaken from the entire experience. Her mood swing is just another push for me to keep egging her on. The crowd finds us then, people with tear-stained faces and blotchy eyes, shouting at each other and us. I glance around at the flurry of activity, my head starting to pound from the sudden barrage of sound. Their voices come in all at once.
"Don't move."
"Get Taylor out of the van!"
I try to stand, try to get away from the shouting and rushing, but Edythe's chilly hand pushes my shoulder down. I shiver violently, pulling away from her hand. But she's stubborn, pulling me closer to her. That's when I notice how shaky she is, her eyes wide with ... with fear? This is what scares her? A crowd?... not that I can't relate.
"Just stay put for now... please."
"Edythe, you're cold." I say plainly, savoring the small chuckle under her breath. There is an edge to it, lacking the musical quality her voice normally holds. I don't like that sound. "You were over there, by your car." Her laughter stops, and we lock eyes, her face expressionless and hard. I raise a brow and mimic her crooked half-smirk from before.
"No, I wasn't."
"I saw you, Edythe. You can't dissuade me." Chaos surrounds us, adults starting to join the scene with their gruff but concerned voices. But I hold on to our argument, stubborn as my mother. I don't even care if she admits it at this point – I want her to realize I'm no fool.
"Beau, I was standing with you, I pulled you out of the way." Her eyes flash, almost rendering me mute. She wants me to back down, wants me to pretend I didn't realize her... mistake, I suppose. A charade that shattered the moment she saved me from that van. I lean in closer.
"No, you weren't."
The red of her eyes blaze. "Please, Beau..."
"Please what?"
"Trust me," she begs, on her knees in front of me. The fiery passion in her eyes is overrun by a near childlike fear. The sound of sirens hits my ears. Damn, out of time.
"Only if you promise you'll explain everything to me later."
"Alright, fine," she snaps, her frustration at me finally coming through. I grin, though pain keeps shooting through me.
"Fine." I won.
It takes six EMTs and two teachers to move the van far enough away for the stretchers to fit. Edythe refuses, as do I. But then she mentions my head injury, the possible concussion. I glare at her when they put the neck brace on me, knowing my face is redder than her inhuman eyes at this point. Damn traitor. They load me in the back of the ambulance, the crowd making it feel like the entire school is watching me with somber, terrified looks on their faces.
Edythe gets to ride in the front, which is annoying. But to round out the trauma of the day, Charlie pushes her way through the crowd, recognizing me from a decent distance and running as fast as she can to the stretcher.
"Oh my God, Beau!"
"Ma, it's okay. I'm fine." She turns to the closest EMT for a second opinion, and I lose her voice after I finally get a good look at the damage done to the car beside the Thing. There is a deep dent in the bumper, a very distinct one that seems to resemble the width of Edythe's shoulders. She'd braced herself against the car, stopped the impact it would have, should have, had on both The Thing and myself. My brain whirrs through possibilities, each more improbably and childish as the next. But I laugh softly, making the EMT jump.
I spot her family, just beyond the crowd. Their faces range from simple disapproval to complete rage, with not a single drop of worry between them. Like they had just seen her do something idiotic. And if everything in my mind is adding up to a truth, they're all pretty well right. Especially Roland, who looks like he is about to explode.
Naturally, the ambulance gets a police escort to the county hospital. I try not to let my embarrassment become too apparent, but feel no shame in vocalizing my contempt when Edythe glides through the hospital doors under her own power. I feel like a flesh Muppet the whole time they unload me.
They put me in the Emergency Room, my bed separated from the many others with a pastel curtain. A nurse takes my vitals, starting with a blood pressure cuff on my bicep and a thermometer under my tongue. When no one looks, I tear the neck brace off and hide it under my bed, playing it cool as he interviews me on my typical vital levels. I'm about to ask him to close the curtain when a group of hospital personnel brings another stretcher in, parking it beside me.
It's the driver of the van, a girl I take Government class with, Taylor Crowley. She has bloodied bandages wrapped around her head, looking a hundred times worse than me. Just looking at her makes my stomach churn, and the scent of blood that reaches my nose makes me gag in the back of my throat.
"Hey, you okay?" Such a dumb fucking question. She's in the hospital, Beaumont. I expect a groggy half-reply or nothing at all. Instead, I get wide, anxious eyes and a panicked voice.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Beau!"
"Hey, don't worry about me. Barely even bruised. Wish I could say the same for you," the nurse comes to change her soiled bandages, exposing a myriad of shallow cuts all over her forehead and cheek, blood trickling down her face. I have to turn away, pulling my shirt over my nose. I'd rather smell Old Spice and BO.
She's shaking her head, annoying the nurse who is simply trying to do his job. "Christ, I thought I was going to kill you! I was speeding, I hit the ice wrong... how the hell did you get out of the way so quickly? It was like you were there one second and gone the next." Oh... oh no. Uhhhh...
"It uh... It was Edythe. The Cullen girl, she uh... she pushed me out of the way."
"Seriously? She must move like lightning. I mean, I know I saw her beside you, but then," she points to the bandages on her head, "boom, darkness. But... this is gonna sound so crazy..."
"What is it?"
"Well, I didn't, like, see her at first. Maybe it was the angle or whatever, but one second you were alone, and the next she was beside you." Taylor chuckles, "I think the pain meds are blurring my memory."
"Yeah, probably. She was with me the entire time, though. We were talking about music. She is kinda short next to me." Taylor nods, and I let out a breath. Well, at least I know someone else noticed, but I can't let her think something is going on. If I'm right, and I damn well know I am, then exposing Edythe would be the biggest mistake of my life.
And possibly the end of it. Kinda exciting.
A nurse takes me from Taylor then, for x-rays on my head. I keep telling them I'm okay, there isn't a thing wrong with me. And once again, I'm right. Not even a concussion. Though they do go over some medical mumbo-jumbo about recovery time and I don't really remember going into shock. The nurse tells me to wait in my cot for a doctor to check me out. When she leaves, Taylor and I are alone with a thick wall of silence between us. I lay down, deciding to rest for a bit. The doctor shouldn't be too long, right?
"Is he sleeping?"
A hauntingly musical voice hits my ears and my eyes pop open. Edythe is standing beside my cot, her shaking hand gripping the side rail. The nurse simply states that I'll be fine to go home soon and leaves it at that before going off to take care of someone else. Then she looks down at me, and her eyes widen.
"You're awake..."
"I'm a light sleeper. And you're totally unscathed."
"I... y-yes, I am. I just wanted to see how you and uh, Taylor are doing." Edythe turns to Taylor, face twitching in disappointment. I glance over and almost laugh at Taylor's loud snores. "I guess she's okay, too."
"I dunno, I think they switched her with a bear."
"Sounds pretty close, I'll give you that." She lets out a soft giggle. My curiosity keeps building. I want to lay out more bread crumbs, but I open my mouth just in time for the doctor to round the corner. And Lord on high, she's more than I could have imagined.
Young, barely older than Edythe in appearance, with blonde curls braided down her back. Her skin, ghastly white, only adds to the chill I feel when I meet her smiling eyes. Bright red, identical to Edythe's in every way. She smiles at me with perfect heart lips, but the ice that radiates off their bodies sends an instinctive chill of fear up my spine. At this point, I was already convinced about Edythe, but now I can't help but wonder just how many of... of them there are here.
"Ah, the young Beaumont Swan," Doctor Cullen starts in a soft, almost sensual voice. I didn't expect her to have a slight British accent. Especially considering Edythe sounds almost like she's from the Midwest. But somehow it makes sense. "I'm glad to see you in one piece. How are you feeling?"
"I feel fine, ma'am. Looking forward to going home."
She nods, making her way to the light-board over my head and flicking it on. "Well, your x-rays look good. Do you have any pain? Edythe said you hit hard." Her eyes flick over to her sister for a moment, a flash of anger entering her molten ruby irises before they land on me again, taking a sweeter hue. What level of Nirvana did she have to reach to control her emotions like that?
"I promise, Doctor Cullen, I'm fine. My head doesn't hurt at all anymore." She lets out a small 'hm' before whisking her fingers over the dark purple splotch on the side of my head. I hiss, a sharp but quick pain shooting through me. She clicks her tongue.
"It's a mote tender, lad."
"Pssh, tis a flesh wound." I hear a chuckle and stick my tongue out at Edythe while Doctor Cullen writes on her chart. "Besides, I've had a lot worse than this."
"All right, you can go home, Beaumont. But come back if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight. Understood?" She angles her head, looking up at me with a severe, maternal glare.
"Sounds fine to me. I guess I should head back to school, eh?"
"After what you went through, take it easy. I've called and told them you'll be absent for the rest of the day."
"And her?" I nod toward Edythe.
"Oh, I'm going home, too. I just need to make a couple stops beforehand. Like getting our homework and dropping them off." A soft chuckle, eyes that refuse to meet mine. Or the doctor's. "I'm just glad we'll be able to get out of here without incident." I shake my head, not seeing the doctor's anxious grin until she makes a sound.
"Actually," Doctor Cullen drums her fingers on the keyboard, "most of the school seems to be in the waiting room." I lay my face in my hands and groan louder than I intended, earning a strange glance from both Cullen women. "Would you rather stay, Beaumont?"
"No, I just hate crowds..." I rub my temples and hop down from the bed. Apparently, that is enough to upset my equilibrium. I fall against Doctor Cullen, and she meets my eyes with equal parts concern and surprise. "S-sorry about that. I've always been pretty clumsy."
"It sounds to me like you were lucky, young man." Doctor Cullen smiles, helping me stand and signing my chart with an added flourish.
"Yes, it was lucky that Edythe was standing right beside me when it all happened. It's remarkable that she wasn't hurt." I break into a wicked smile, noticing body language changes in both Edythe and Doctor Cullen. Edythe's entire body stiffens. Meanwhile, the good doctor is suddenly very interested in the papers before her rather than the patient — aka me.
"Oh, well, yes," She nods repeatedly, turning to Taylor as if to cut me off entirely. Something in the back of my mind doesn't like this situation at all and knowing the doctor is in on it only makes me more determined to understand just what was going on. Doctor Cullen rouses Taylor, talking about extending her stay and examining the injuries. With her back turned, I'm able to slide over to Edythe, my fingers tapping on her shoulder. She lets out a small chirp of surprise, which makes me snort.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" I pull on her arm gently, feeling cold spreading to my fingers and palm through the shirt. She looks up at me, face souring as she pulls her arm back. Her movements are human like, slower than I'm used to. But I don't see her tiptoe to hover just an inch from my face.
"Your mother is in the waiting room, you should talk to her." She hisses through clenched teeth. She's more confident than usual. No stutter, no hesitation. I'm hitting a nerve.
I glance at Doctor Cullen and Taylor, not liking that they can clue in at any second. "Before I do, I need to talk to you. Please." She sighs, eyes rolling into her skull. But still, she takes me by the wrist and pulls me down the hallway and around a corridor until we're completely alone. Then she leans against the wall, arms crossed.
"All right, what do you want?" Her voice and eyes are as cold as her skin, a layer of panic in her tone. One thing is definite; I am on to something. I mirror her stance, a brow raised.
"You owe me an explanation."
"I don't owe you shit. I saved your life; you owe me."
"You promised me, Edythe."
"You hit your head, Beau. Y-you don't know what you're talking about." The harshness of her tone is enough to flare my temper, but I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe in slowly. And then out. I lean in, lowing my voice.
"Don't pull that shit on me, tough girl. There is nothing wrong with my memory."
"Just... what do you want, Beau?"
"Mayhaps the truth?" I suggest, a mocking edge in my voice. "I've already covered your ass with Taylor, and I want to know why." She flinches, a near animalistic growl emanating from her throat. Am I triggering a fight-or-flight response? Well, hopefully it's the latter that kicks in.
"What do you think happened back there?"
It all pours out before I can stop myself.
"You weren't anywhere close to me. You were almost on the other side of the parking lot when Taylor came at me. Oh, she didn't see you until the last second either – I convinced her you were there the whole time. You're welcome. The van was going to kill me, but it didn't. And you, your body left imprints in the steel of both the van and the car you pushed me into. Out of all three people who should have died today, you are the only one who doesn't even have a scratch on them. You were holding the van up, so it didn't crush my legs, which is an impressive feat form all angles. That's just topping the list of the shit that I've noticed about you. So, you'll have to forgive me if I'm not willing to deny what you are."
She just looks at me, a rush of emotion coming from her brilliant and horrific eyes. Shock, fear, anger, rage... hunger. "You honestly think I stopped a speeding vehicle with my bare hands? Lifted it so it wouldn't crush you?" Her tone is perfect for an actor auditioning for the one sane person in a movie. I scoff, making sure she knows I refuse to back down. "No matter what you think I am, no one will ever believe you."
"What makes you think I'd tell anyone?" I choose my words carefully, keeping my tone level.
Her eyes narrow, "Then why does it matter?"
"It matters to me, Edythe. I hate lying, I suck at it. I especially hate lying for someone who, despite all positive interactions, has just tried to gaslight me." She flinches for the second time at my words, almost convincing me I hurt her.
"You can't just thank me and get over it." It isn't a question, somehow that pisses me off even more. I laugh, flipping my hair over my shoulder and setting my hands on my hips.
"Oh, I'm sorry! Thank you for saving my life, Edythe. Thank you every little detail that keeps adding up. Thank you for your inhuman eyes, your inhuman strength, and your pigheadedness that literally no one warned me about."
"You really won't let this go, are you? Well, in that case, I hope you enjoy disappointment. Because I'm not telling you shit." We glare at each other in silence, tears threatening to stream down my cheek. My heart starts to race. The mask of bravery is slowly breaking down with every beat of palpable silence between us. I'm the first to speak.
"You should have seen this coming. You should have let me die." I walk away, not knowing or caring what her reaction is. I am so scared and angry, I can't stop the tears from falling down my face. It clouds my vision. I can't see where I'm going. I stop in the middle of the hall to wipe my eyes. In the distance, I can hear Edythe talking to... someone. A man?
"... you've put us all in danger... what if he tells... Edythe, you idiot!... "
"Just leave me alone, Roe... I don't want to talk about this." Their footsteps get louder, I panic and wonder where to go. But then a sturdy pair of arms pulls me to the side, a warm hug greeting me. That perfume... Charlie!
"Beau! Thank God, you're okay!"
"Yeah, I'm okay Ma. Doctor Cullen says I'm unharmed. But she still wants me to go home and rest."
"Of course," Charlie relaxes, taking my face in her hands. Her face... Her eyes are bloodshot, swollen, there's a shine of what must be snot just over her bottom lip. She cried... my mom cried. Oh God, the guilt is eating my stomach. And the accident wasn't even my fault.
Without a word, Charlie wraps one arm around my own, this time not caring about putting space between us, and escorts me to the exit, me waving with a shy smile to my friends. My phone vibrates like crazy, and I immediately start a group text so I can tell them all I'll talk to them about it tomorrow. I think I'll just make some canned soup and sleep for the rest of today.
We drive in silence, my mind circling around my interactions with Edythe over the overly dramatic course of today. Honestly, I fucked up. I really did. I'm not afraid to admit that I shouldn't have pushed all those buttons after she saved my life – but holy shit, she made it obvious.
She made it blatantly obvious.
And maybe it makes me the craziest man in Washington to keep following little red thread, but it's also the best chance for something... magical to happen in my life. Something wonderful.
I'm so deep in my mind, I don't realize Charlie and I are in the living room until she speaks.
"So, um... you need to call Rene." She chuckles weakly. "Sorry..."
"It's okay, Ma. I kinda expected you too to call him. I mean, he's still my dad, he'll want to know these things." I give him a quick peck on the cheek and run up to my room. I don't want to call him at all, but Dad not panicking trumps personal preferences. I hit her number on speed dial and wait for a response.
Not surprisingly, he's hysterical – rightly so. I have to tell him at least thirty times that I'm fine before he breathes in a normal manner. He decides I need to come home within the next couple days – apparently forgetting that I only have a key for the empty house in Phoenix – because Forks is clearly more dangerous than a massive city. I tell him I'm staying for three reasons: Charlie, my friends, and Edythe. Which makes me feel stupid, since after today I think any friendship we were building might be in the dust. But after today, I don't think I'd be able to leave for a single day without wondering what mischief she's gotten into.
Charlie ordered us Chinese instead of cooking – infinitely better than my soup idea. She watches over me for a while, but eased back once it fully clicked with her that I'm not passing out any time soon. I think she's having a harder time coping with this than Rene is. At least he wouldn't have had to identify my body if... okay, no. Don't think about that. You've thought about that way too much.
I grab two Tylenol from my bathroom, which helps the remnants of the pain in my temple, and go to bed early, deciding to deal with homework in the morning.
I dream of Edythe Cullen.