Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight. Enjoy.
I'm sorry. I fucked up.
How many texts from Jacob could I ignore? This one a similar story to the others. My silence gave him a clear message about how I felt. I didn't respond and had no plans to. He could stew on it.
There was one thing I couldn't deny though. This single-sided communication, although annoying, proved to be a blessing in disguise, a perfect distraction from my unexpected rendezvous in the meadow with Edward. Who, I kept on reminding myself, was not only a minor, but my student. My student who I was certain had sparkled in the sun. A seventeen-year-old whom I shared an almost intimate moment with. Who had taken a clandestine photo of me sleeping. Who had watched me sleep.
I couldn't wrap my head around the feelings that lingered even now. They were so very wrong. Yet what I had felt there, in those moments, was unlike anything else.
I had to find an alternative. These feelings had to exist somewhere else, with someone else. With someone that was not a minor, or a student.
Bella, please respond.
Jacob proved to be persistent. So persistent that he turned up on Charlie's doorstep with Billy late Thursday afternoon. I'd just settled into some marking after arriving home from work when the doorbell rang.
I opened the front door to find Billy Black on the doorstep, Jacob's hunched shoulders walking back towards the Blacks' navy blue truck.
"Uh, I wasn't expecting you." I looked only at Jacob as he reversed out of the driveway.
"Last minute thing with your dad. We are going to watch March Madness on cable. Jacob's just going back out to get the pizzas." Billy wheeled himself inside, immediately making his way to the living room.
"Great." I fake smiled, closing the door and following behind him.
Billy made himself comfortable, Charlie's living room almost like his own. I couldn't help but smile, a genuine one this time as he collected one of Nana Swan's quilts, and wheeled himself to his position in the room next to Charlie's chair. "I am just finishing some marking in the kitchen, give me a yell if you need anything," I said, leaning against the door frame. "Charlie shouldn't be too long."
Billy laughed, busily pressing buttons on the remote. "Oh, don't worry, I have the TV to keep me company."
I sighed and made my way back into the kitchen. My plan of avoiding Jacob had hit a snag.
Half an hour later, Charlie arrived and Jacob followed behind him with dinner. He looked sheepish as he entered the kitchen, lifting up the pizza boxes like a shield when we made eye contact. I found myself smiling up at him but on realizing, fixed my eyes on the floor. I wouldn't let him woo me with his warmth and his contagious smile. At least not straight away. Charlie and Billy joined Jacob and I in the kitchen for dinner. We ate in silence, small talk occupying the kitchen table. With the last slice eaten, Charlie wheeled Billy back into the living room, leaving Jacob and I to deal with empty pizza boxes and beer cans.
"I'm sorry. I know my weather excuse was bullshit. I'm an idiot." Jacob cornered me as I placed empty cans into the recycling bin. Heat radiated off him, his body a portable space heater.
I looked up at him through my lashes. I didn't smile. "Yeah, you are."
Jacob puffed out his cheeks, frustrated. "Look, things are tense at the reservation."
I nodded. Whatever that meant.
We were silent as we went about clearing up. Eventually the both of us setling against the kitchen counter. We stood close together, Jacob occasionally knocking his work boot into my Converse.
I was warming up to him.
He nudged my shoe and smiled down at me. "You know what, maybe you can help? The kids are a little wild at school. Causing trouble. Some of the teachers could probably use some support, some advice."
Jacob clearly hadn't been listening when I'd told him I majored in British literature. I didn't know beyond the basics of behavior management.
Nudging his shoe back, I raised my brows. "I teach senior English, I think you're overestimating my skills."
"I know you have skills, maybe more than you let on." He reached out and ghosted his hand over my own that was laying against my thigh, my insides warm and fuzzy from his touch. I looked down and watched my fingers glide along his callused palms as our fingers intertwined for the briefest of moments before they naturally drifted apart. At that moment, I could only think of Jacob. My warm distraction.
"Please? I promise then I'll take you out on a proper date. We'll go to The Mill. I'll buy you nachos." Jacob moved closer to me, his voice almost pleading,
I snorted, covering my face with my hands. Jacob and I demolished bags of corn chips around the Bonfire as kids. I liked that he remembered little things like that. I reached forward with a finger and nudged him in the chest, even with a layer of clothes, he was hot to touch. "So when do you want me to come down?" I smiled up at him.
"Does Saturday work? We have a Saturday school event on, you'll see the kids and you can meet Leah. She's one of the teachers."
I nodded and picked up my diary, open on the kitchen counter. I wrote it in.
On Friday I had a spring in my step, excited to tell Angela about Jacob. Before I could do that, I needed to get through three classes, one of which featured Edward Cullen.
Sitting at the edge of my desk I gave my fingers a wiggle and cracked my neck as the 2:00 p.m. bell chimed, signalling sixth period. I moved around to the front and tidied my desk, putting away stray stationery, throwing out old post-its, making any effort to occupy myself as I waited for my students to enter the classroom. While I waited for one particular student to enter…
I had seen Edward several times in classes since our interaction in the meadow, so I was unsure why I felt apprehensive about seeing him today. Edward had been cordial and polite in class, shared his thinking when called upon, sometimes even offering me a kind smile, but otherwise...nothing. He looked at me like what had happened in the meadow …had never happened.
The warning bell rang, and my students slowly trickled into the classroom. Twenty-two bodies dragged their feet along the floor, slumping into their assigned seats. Killing some time as I waited for latecomers, I wrote 'Friday Fatigue' on the whiteboard, the class laughed in a low murmur as I clipped the cap onto my marker. Edward finally joined us, strolling past my desk and giving me a small wave acknowledging his lateness.
In the spirit of it being Friday, Mike Newton took it upon himself to volunteer as the 'Friday Funny,' an opportunity for students to read a piece of writing in the most over the top, dramatic way possible.
The class waited with bated breath as Mike, still sitting at his desk, cleared his throat, before suddenly springing into the air and awkwardly standing up on his chair. I moved towards him as if I were to act like some kind of spotter. I really couldn't have him fall.
Mike began to give the most outrageously affected delivery of Macbeth's famous 'dagger' soliloquy. I leaned against the nearest desk, my hands around my waist trying to contain my laughter. I kept a straight face - I had to be professional - but god, was he butchering it! In the corner of my eye I saw Edward sink into his chair with a laugh. He tried to hide a smile; even he found this funny.
Saved by the 3:00 p.m. bell, two students helped Mike down from his pedestal and the telltale sign of class ending had students scrambling out of their seats to the front door. They jostled as if they were in a crowded market. Mike's bookbag slipped off his shoulder and hit the floor with a whack and Tyler Crowley walked straight into the edge of a desk, eyes too focused on his exit. As I waved them out, I could see Edward stalling. When the room was empty he made his way up to my desk. I didn't get out of my chair, I simply scooted back as he rounded the corner in an effort to create some distance between us. He went to speak, but then his jaw tensed and his eyebrows furrowed. His eyes fixed on the diary open on my desk to this week's page.
"Why are you going to the reservation?" Edward hissed, fists bunched up at his sides.
I stood up and slammed my diary shut. "That's none of your business, Edward."
His jaw continued to tense. "It isn't safe there. My father has been talking about trauma cases coming into the hospital from the reservation. Patients with broken bones…"
"What I do on the weekend has nothing to do with you. The reservation is perfectly safe. I spent plenty of time there with Jacob and Charlie when I was a teen."
"Jacob? The w-" he stopped and then continued."The one who bailed on you last week?"
I put an edge in my voice. "We're done, Edward. I have to go and I'm sure you do too."
Edward turned away quickly and headed for the exit. He stopped at the door, his back still turned to me. I stared at his back, every part of me focused on him, on what he would say, what would happen next.
Soft and barely above a whisper, he spoke. "Be safe."
I suddenly remembered that his handkerchief from the meadow was in my bag. I'd hand washed it and after it was dry, pressed it with the iron. Still looking at him, as if he would disappear if I were to stop, I felt around my work bag, my fingers passing over my wallet, a scrunched up receipt, my cell, even a lone tampax. Where was it? I know I put it in here. Relief washed over me when I felt the embroidering of the handkerchief across my fingertips. I stood up quickly, my chair screeching against the floor. Edward moved, disappearing from the door frame. Surely I'd catch him in the hall.
He was gone.
As always, a massive thank you to my beta team TheBaseBallGirl, Teaandsolitude & JennaReads.