I do not own Twilight.
So I think, when this story is complete, I might upload all of the past chapters in the order that they actually fall in so that you guys can read the past story-line if you want. I know it jumps around, and I hope the tag in the beginning about what time of year the chapter happens in is helpful, but I really think I'll post a second "story" just with these certain chapters.
What do you think?
High School: Junior Year, September
"Bella's curfew is in, like, ten minutes!" Alice hollers from her car and I'm already blushing like an idiot because it's embarrassing to be a sixteen-year-old with the curfew of a twelve-year-old.
"Nine-thirty?" someone snickers and I'm about to highly consider punching Alice in the shoulder when a hand touches mine.
The touch is light, but I can already smell the clean, soapy smell I knew he arrived with.
"I can drive you home," Edward offers and flashes me his lopsided smile when I blink up at him.
"I-it's okay," I say and shake my head. "Alice can take me."
He shrugs. "I'm heading to the res. It's along the way."
"Oh…" I start, but Alice, who has been keenly listening to Edward's offer tosses my bag out of her window towards me.
"You'd better get going, Bella," she says, and her dark eyes are too wide for real innocence. "If you're gonna make it home for nine-thirty, you should go with Edward. It might take me a while to find my keys."
I turn to glance up at Edward again and he's watching me with nothing short of an amused expression.
"Do you know where I live?" I ask, and he shrugs with one shoulder, moving past me to open his car door.
"It helps to know where the police live," he says as way of explanation. He's so mysterious and attractive and unbelievably gorgeous that I'm momentarily speechless as I sit in his car.
"How did you know my stepdad is a police officer?"
He glances over at me when I call him my stepdad, his eyes roaming my face and I think, maybe, he's a bit surprised that Charlie isn't my biological father. I hope he doesn't want to talk about my real dad, because that could make for a very sober and solemn car ride, but he doesn't.
He looks back towards the road as he pulls away from the small gathering in the dense park.
"Talk of the town," he says simply.
I stare at the side of his face, trying not to appreciate his profile as much as I know that I am. I like his nose. It's perfectly straight, like it's been hand drawn.
"Talk of the town?" I ask, because I'm confused as to what he means and why he said this.
He glances over at me and for a moment, the green of his eyes is a stark comparison to the blue lights illuminating off of his dashboard. I think it's unfair he can look this good in any lighting. I'm sure I look like a mess right now.
"You're the only new girl we've had in at least two years," he says.
I make a noise in the back of my throat that is completely involuntary and completely true to how I feel, which is startled and mortified.
"What kind of talk?" I ask.
His eyes flick over to me and the corner of his mouth twitches before he focuses on driving again. "Your name," he says. "Some guesses as to where you came from and why you're here."
I want to ask, but I don't because I don't think I want to know the answer.
I look over at him because I suddenly am desperate to know where he thought I came from, why he thought I was here, but he talks again before I can ask.
"Mostly from the guys," he says.
"Why?" I ask. It's not like I'm interesting. It's not like my story is interesting…
People move all the time for thousands of different reasons.
I see Edward shrug out of my periphery, but I'm caught up in wondering what everyone has been saying. I'll have to ask Alice. That's slightly less embarrassing.
"Pretty girl moves to a small town."
My head snaps towards him, unsure if I heard correctly, but I'm almost positive he just called me pretty. My head is swarming with a buzz, like I can't concentrate or think correctly.
I can see a hint of a smile on his face and it makes me think he meant to call me pretty, but then he adds, "Guys are gonna be all over that," and now I'm wondering what he means by 'all over that' but I don't want to ask because I'm scared of the answer.
He stops the car and I realize with a start that we are already at my house.
The front light is on, as is the light in the living room. Charlie's cruiser sits in the driveway like an omen.
Edward leans his elbow on the arm rest between our seats and his face is closer to mine. If I reached just in front of me, I'm sure I could touch a lock of the unruly copper-colored hair that sits in a mess on his head.
"I guess it's harder when her dad's a cop," he says quietly, his eyes trained on my face. He's not looking at any part in particular, more so roaming as though he's trying to memorize.
"Her?" I ask, and my voice is barely above a whisper because I feel too light, too warm to give it my full volume.
The corner of Edward's mouth pulls up. His emerald eyes settle on mine and there's something about them. They're blazing, almost; like they hold their own light.
"The pretty girl," he says and then the corner pulls up higher, "You."