Chapter 10. The Dance Party

Edward is gone.

The week comes and goes and I don't see him. Seth says he does this sometimes… he disappears for a few days and then comes back. I try not to sound too bummed, not to ask too much. But I still take a walk on that beach every morning, hoping to see him in the water. I even venture up the cliff, but his van is gone and there's no sign of him whatsoever.

I focus on work, hang with the crew, and wonder whether he is gone for good.

I also sleep in his hoodie. His smell lingers on the fabric, or at least my brain tells me it does, giving me a tangible reminder of our walk on the beach.

Our first week of work goes well. Samples get collected twice a week, both from the sand and from the water. Jake is on my land team, while Leah is on my water team. Turns out she's not only a pro surfer but the job that pays her bills is driving the boat for the research station. She's a freaking boss and so helpful with my project.

While the sample collection is a blast, the processing of the samples in the lab blows, sucks, literally stinks, and not only because I work with poop samples, but also because Rose and Prof. McCarty aren't talking to each other anymore. And every time one of them is there, the other leaves.

Rose has not told me what is going on between them, no matter how hard I have tried to coerce it out of her. But there's clearly something going on. They're insufferable. Miserable. Prof. Mc Carty even stopped shaving.

He communicates exclusively with me, which is incredibly annoying, and I wish they would just be grown-ups about it. Or just fuck already and get it over with.

As if that's not enough, things on the beach start to get a little weird.

More threatening signs are left on Wednesday morning, and a full protest against us being here happens on Thursday. I'm glad I'm not well versed in Spanish slang, but the message toward us, researchers and conservationists alike, clearly isn't friendly.

They want us to stop. They want us gone. They want to be able to take the turtle eggs freely.

Jake says not to worry. That things are under control. That the government is increasing security and protection on our beach.

I do worry because the overnight section of our project starts in a few weeks and will go on throughout the months that we are here. We will be camping out on the beach as the nesting season starts so I can sample the sand afterward and Rose can plant her 3D printed tracking eggs in the nests.

I do worry for our safety, but mostly, I worry about the risk of not being able to complete our projects after working so hard on them.

Finally, when Sunday comes, we all hang out by the beach.

Everyone is here. Well, almost everyone—Edward is still MIA.

Seth says there'll be a dance party at the bonfire tonight and asks if I know how to salsa. I tell him I don't dance. Period. But he promises to teach me.

If he's willing to risk serious bodily injury from the stomping of my feet on his then so be it.

I wear the blue dress that Rose got for me. It's the only one I actually like. It covers most of my chest; it's flowy and comfortable, and it has pockets.

Rose curls my hair but I wear it up in a high ponytail. If there's going to be dancing, there's going to be sweating. And my neck gets hot in awkward situations such as those that are bound to happen if—when—I try dancing tonight.

We are almost ready to go when there's a knock on our door, and my heart beats out of my chest. For some reason my brain tricks me into thinking it might be Edward out there.

But it's not him.

Prof. McCarty stands at our door all red-rimmed eyes, week's worth of scruff, and stinking of booze.

Rose's heels click as she approaches the door and stands behind me.

"Can we talk?" he says, looking at Rose, his voice hoarse.

I wait for her signal to see whether she wants me to get rid of him.

"Okay," she says to him, which surprises me, but when I turn to look at her, the hurt in her eyes matches the one that is all over him.

"You sure?" I ask and she nods. "Okay… I'll see you at the bonfire?"

She nods again, all eyes on Prof. McCarty, so I leave them be.

The crowd by the bonfire is significantly bigger than last time, the music louder too. It makes me anxious. I wish I would have raided the minibar a bit before heading over.

I see Jacob and Leah first, already dancing, on the wooden platform that has been set near the bar. Leah is wearing a shiny silver top that has her back completely exposed and a black mini skirt. They move their hips together, so naturally and in sync. They look so good together. When he spins her, she fucking shines, and I start wondering if there's anything Leah doesn't do well.

Yep, I definitely have a girl crush on Leah.

I fidget with my dress pockets, unsure of what to do. Should I stand to the side? Or head to the bar?

"Bella! Hey!" Seth comes to my rescue, kisses my cheek, and grasps my hand. "You ready?" He pulls me in the direction of the dancing area, but I pull him back.

"Absolutely not."

"C'mon, I'll show you a few basic steps, and you'll be queen of the dance floor in no time."

"I need a drink—or four—first."

"Okay, okay." He doesn't let go of my hand as we walk to the bar, but I subtly let his fingers go as he orders drinks in Spanish.

He seems unaffected as he drops my hand to grab the beers, handing me one with a friendly smile.

We drink for a while, keep up with casual conversation, and I'm on my third beer, when Rose arrives with Prof. McCarty in tow.

I think my jaw hits the floor and my eyes widen when she shakes her head, smiling shyly at me. He walks next to her, looking about as nervous as I would have expected him to be, being out here, with her.

"Bella," he says, clearing his throat and nodding at me. His eyes are still red, but he looks considerably happier.

"Hi!" I smile brightly at him.

"Chill the fuck out," Rose whispers in my ear. "He's just having a drink with us." I study her face. It looks like she might have been crying, but all traces of tears are gone from her face.

"Slumming it with the students, huh?" I joke, smiling at Prof. McCarty, trying to show Rose that I can be cool about this. That I won't judge.

"Just want to see what all the fuss is about." He shrugs, shaking hands with Seth.

"Might we get to see some famous McCarty salsa moves?" I tease, thinking of the rumors around campus of his wild days.

"I could be bribed." His eyes are not on me anymore, but on Rose.

"Oh really?" Rose turns to him then, handing him a drink in a short glass.

"I'm easy like that." Prof. McCarty tips his glass, taking a gulp of his drink. The ice clinks with the glass as he sets the drink back on the bar and then extends a hand to Rose.

She grabs his hand at once, and as he pulls her to the dance floor, she turns back at me. She's got the happiest fucking expression on her face.

"Now or never, Bella. C'mon!" Seth extends his hand to me with a friendly wink.

"All right..." I smile and let him pull me to the dance floor as well.

We join the rest and dance for a while. Going back and forth for drinks.

Seth shows us some moves, which look great when Rose and Emmett do them, but when Seth tries them with me, we bump knees, I step on him, and I'm pretty sure I elbow him in the face. He denies it, despite the red mark on his cheek. He's a good sport, but I am apparently salsa-challenged.

I'm glad when the music changes to something that sounds more familiar, more dance-y and hip-hop-y. "Reggaeton," I'm told.

So Reggaeton is my jam, and I'm having fun.

I find rhythm somewhere inside of me, or at least it feels like I do. It could just be the beer talking.

Seth spins me with his hands on my hips so my back is to him and I'm facing the bar… and that's when I see him.

Edward.

Staring right at us. The corner of his lips tilting slightly upward into a subdued version of his signature crooked grin.

I smile at him because I can't help it. I'm happy to see him. He's back, and he's here.

Even though his face is shadowed by the brim of his cap, it looks like he's trying hard not to smile. I try one of my newly acquired moves, swinging my hips from side to side, while looking at him. It works and he chuckles, but then he looks down, shaking his head.

When Seth spins me back around, I subtly take his hands off my hips and reach for Rose.

"He's back!" I whisper into Rose's ear, one hand between my mouth and her ear.

"Who?"

"Edward!" I look over my shoulder, but he is no longer at the bar.

"Surfie?" Rose looks over at me in confusion, scanning the crowd as well.

I nod at her, now worried that he's disappeared again.

"Then why are you still here?"

She has a point.

I excuse myself to go to the bathroom and head for the beach instead.

My instinct is proven right, and I find him near the shore, just away from the crowd. His back is to me, as he's sitting on a fallen tree log, looking over at the water.

My steps, muted by the sand, don't alert him of my presence until I'm standing right behind him.

He looks over his shoulder, thumb and index holding a joint to his lips. His cap is now backward so I can see his face.

"Ouch…" My stomach drops.

His left eye is swollen and bruised, with a significant scrape on the left side of his face that looks healed and dried, for the most part. His lip has been slashed on that side as well. His left arm and leg are littered with scrapes and bruises in various stages of healing.

"Geez, what happened to you?" My fingers itch to reach for him, to try to comfort him in any way, but afraid he'll freak out, I keep my distance and walk over to his side.

"It's nothing," he says dismissively, putting out the joint and sticking it back in his Altoids container. "Just a scratch."

"Did you get in a brawl or something?"

He chuckles but grabs his side, wincing slightly as he exhales. "Do I look like a guy that gets into brawls?"

"No, but… It does look like someone whooped your ass."

"Whooped my ass?" He quirks an eyebrow at me, laughing softly through his nose. "You're funny…"

"It's not funny," I say, although I do smile. "Who did this to you?"

"Nobody did this to me. It was all me… and some sharp rocks." He shakes his head, his eyes on me, a smile twitching on his lips. "I did get my ass whooped though." He laughs in earnest now, but it quickly turns into a wince as he secures his arm around his chest. He exhales softly, looking down, a "fuck" escaping his lips.

"Are you okay?"

"It's not too bad." He takes a deep breath, his shoulders tense. "The scrapes are nothing. The bruised rib hurts like a mother though."

"You were gone…" My voice comes out in a small whisper as I lower myself to the spot next to him on the tree. "What happened?"

When his gaze meets mine, his eyes are pleading, begging me to drop it with a small shake of his head.

I sigh, looking at the water, clasping my hands on my knees.

Maybe he fell down his cliff or wiped out on a crashing wave?

Ugh… was he in the hospital? Is that why he was gone?

Where was he?

I have so many questions, but I don't think he'll give me any answers.

We both stare at the water in silence, the waves crashing, foam almost reaching our feet, then retreating.

"How's Seth?" he asks after a while, and I turn to him with a raised eyebrow. "Respectful, I hope?"

"Very…"

"Good," he says, his eyes shining and playful. "I don't want to have to whoop his ass."

"How long have you been waiting to say that?"

"Too long. It was torture."

We're both laughing then, except his laughs are strained as he grabs his side.

"Dammit, don't make me laugh." He chokes through a playful groan.

"I'm sorry." I try my best to contain my giggles. "But that was all you."

A popular song must start playing at the party because the cheers are loud and make me look back that way over my shoulder.

"You should go have fun with your friends." His tone is solemn, almost melancholic.

"Why don't you come too?" I offer. I know that tone, and that face. He's about to bolt.

He shakes his head, staring at his feet.

"C'mon, I'll teach you some salsa moves." I reach for his arm but drop my hand before I touch him, afraid that might just make him run faster.

"I've got two left feet and the whitest of moves." He smiles shyly, still looking down.

"So do I. That's what makes it perfect."

"Bella…" His face turns serious, and when he looks at me, his eyes are so sad. "I… I don't think we should be friends."

"Oh…"

"You're a lovely girl." He pauses to clear his throat. "Woman. But I-I'm no good. And—"

"Seriously? It's not you, it's me?" I hold his gaze, shoulder to shoulder, still on the tree. My tone is not reproaching but incredulous instead.

"I'm sorry, but it's true. It is me." He gets up from the log with a groan and faces the ocean with his back to me.

"Also, I'm a lovely girl?" I rise as well, standing behind him.

"You are."

"I'm not. I do bad things."

"Like what?" He turns to me with a smile, crossing his arms in a challenging pose.

"Like…" Both standing in front of each other, I get lost in his intoxicating presence. In how his T-shirt stretches over his chest. Or the fact that I have to crane my neck to look at his face.

"You can't even think of one, can you?" He laughs softly. "How old are you, Bella?"

"I'm twenty-three." God, I sound like such a child! Is he thirty? Am I too young? "I'll be twenty-four in September," I add quickly. "How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-seven." He arches an eyebrow at me, still looking at me expectantly for a couple seconds. "So... the bad things you do?"

"Right. You distracted me. I can think of one…" I take a deep breath and a step away from him, trying to clear my head from his jaw and his chest and the hair that sticks out of his hat. "One time I ran over a bunny with my car."

"On purpose?"

"No!"

"Did you cry?"

I cross my arms over my chest, biting my lip and turning away from him. I did cry. I cried in my car for hours.

"You're adorable."

"I'm not adorable. I'm so bad." I move closer to him again, my smile uncontainable. "Give me that joint, I'll show you." I reach my hand out, palm up, and leave it there, right in front of his stomach.

"Stop it." He chuckles, looking down at my hand.

"I'm so bad I want to punch you in the ribs right now."

"Please, don't. I might cry."

"C'mon…" On an impulse, I reach for his hand, and for a moment, he holds it, wrapping his fingers around mine. "It's just dancing. I promise I won't expect a long-lasting friendship or anything."

I pretend to be chill, like my palm isn't tingling from the feeling of his hand over mine. Like my stomach isn't fluttering. Like my whole body isn't singing for him.

He looks down at our hands, at our fingers intertwined, and for a second, he tightens his grip on my hand. But then his face crumples, almost in a wince, and he loosens his grasp on me.

"I can't," he says sternly, dropping my hand altogether and taking a step back without looking at me. "You should get back; your friends must be waiting for you." He runs a hand through his hair, before restuffing it back into his cap, this time with the visor hiding his face from me.

"Edward," I try in vain, while he continues to step backward.

"I'm really sorry," he says, turns around, and heads farther down the beach. The tingles fade; the butterflies cease their fluttering. The song dies off in a whisper. Only to be replaced by disappointment and worry as I watch him walk away from me… again.

~~o~~