Fandom: Twilight.
Summary: Edward and Bella have had a torturous long-distance relationship for three years when he pays her a surprise visit at her college in New York. Sequel to Diary of an Ugly Girl. Takes place 5 years after the events in Diary. AH, HEA
Genre: Humor/Romance
Warning: There's minimal angst. There's no slow burn. Only boring, boring happiness, and a decidedly more mature content compared to Diary.
A/N: Hi, guys. I've missed you.
I think this story can stand alone, but if any of you (non-readers) takes that leap, let me know if you agree.
It is mind-blowing to me how young I was when I first wrote the story. I've been re-reading it for a few weeks now, and even though it is littered with little errors, I still stand by the core idea of it. One day, I'll fix the tiny errors.
It is such a delight to write this story again. I didn't even write it to share it with you, but I know that at least two of you are still here, so I hope you enjoy.
Please be aware that this story is not in diary form, and therefore some of the characterizations will feel different due to the fact that this is no longer in Bella's point of view.
If you have never read Diary and have no intention to, feel free either take a leap or ignore this. And if you want to try to push me either toward Twilight or P&P, there's a tiny poll on my profile, but don't worry — I'm working on both AWWC and CT.
The rest of you, I dearly hope you enjoy.
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The Girl with Laughter in Her Eyes
by Anton M.
Chapter 1: When You Know, You Know
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Less than half of the stadium seats were taken, but for a track and field event, it was a lot. The red of the home stadium's Molloy Lions dominated among the posters people held, and the crowd was cheering, talking and eating. Edward failed to find Bella on the field before Joseph tugged at his hand.
"Why didn't you carry me on your shoulders?"
"You would've hit your head on the way up, silly."
Edward lifted his brother off the ground under his arm, but Joseph's happy squeal was lost in the noise. Edward glanced over the seats, searching for a place where several empty rows would allow him to sit on the lowest one, and carried his laughing brother to a blue plastic seat. He set his brother down on one of the seats, sat down, and took out his laptop.
"If you can be silent for two minutes, then I will hold you on my shoulders until daddy comes, okay?"
The boy nodded. Edward handed Joseph binoculars (Bella's cheeky gift) from his bag before he created a hot-spot with his phone and sent a quick email to his lab. He shut the laptop, but, before he could lift his brother on his shoulders, Joseph jumped in his lap. Edward groaned.
"Careful there."
"You have a ball in your pocket!" He jumped off. "Can we play?"
"Shit." Edward took out the white box and put it in the zipped-up pocket inside his laptop bag. "Not now, Joey. It's just something I have for Bella."
"You said a bad word!"
"I did," Edward agreed. "I should not have said that. I'm sorry."
Joseph's giggle after hearing his brother curse made him forget all about the ball he'd wished to play, and a second later, he raised his arms for Edward to lift him on his shoulders. Joseph put his palms on Edward's forehead and admired the view.
"Eddie, are you the tallest man ever?"
He laughed. "I'm not."
"Caleb said that you are."
"Caleb is mistaken."
"But I've never seen anyone taller than you!"
Their banter continued. By the time Carlisle called Edward, Edward still hadn't found Bella, even with his binoculars.
He hadn't known much about decathlon before Bella's scholarship, but he'd had four years to learn, and he could tell that the order of the events had been thrown off when men's high jump was followed by women's shot put. He kept scanning the crowd of women for a sign of his girlfriend.
"Daddy is back!" Joseph yelled, throwing his arms in the air. Edward held his brother's back, ensuring he didn't fall off, and turned.
Carlisle made a goofy face before lifting Joseph off of Edward and circling him around. Joseph laughed. Once he stopped, Carlisle sat next to Edward.
"Is her 100 meters over?"
"It should be, but the order of events seems thrown off, so I'm not sure."
Carlisle, not for the first time in the past two days, observed his son's exhausted eyes and overgrown hair.
"You need a haircut," Carlisle said.
"I know," Edward replied. He had taken four exams in three days, weeks ahead of schedule, to be here for Bella. He hadn't had the time to do anything other than finding an apartment with his father and visiting NYU to finish the paperwork regarding his transfer and meet his new supervisor.
It had taken a year of family therapy with Dr. Avery for Edward and Carlisle to start talking to each other in normal volume on delicate topics where presumptions were easy to happen from both of them.
But the real change between them begun when Edward took a gap year before college to work in construction. Carlisle thought he was bluffing. But Edward was not, in fact, bluffing, and spent the year doing manual labor while living above someone's garage in Jamaica, Queens, with Bella. They'd been dirt poor and blissfully happy (for the first time in his life, Edward had cut himself off from his parents), and Edward had never felt quite right leaving Bella in New York while his pre-med took him to the University of Chicago.
"I forgot to ask, did you speak to Charlie?"
"I didn't think Bella would like that."
Carlisle smiled. "You're probably right. Esme is beside herself, so don't forget to call."
"We won't," Edward replied, rubbing his wrist. "Thanks for coming to help me here, dad. You didn't have to, but I appreciate it."
"What are fathers for if not for this." Carlisle hugged Edward and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm proud of you, son. I know you don't need my approval, but you've made some tough choices and I think you've chosen well."
Five years ago, the mere sentence would've started a fight, but Edward smiled. "Thanks, dad. I'll see you in Seattle in a week."
"Hug your brother goodbye, Joey," Carlisle said, and the boy begrudgingly did as he was told, although he was not happy that they had to catch a plane back to Seattle instead of getting to play with Bella.
Once they left, Edward threw the strap of his laptop bag over his shoulder and started walking around the stadium. He was always mindful of where he stood for the people behind him to be able to see, and he found spare seats when he thought he might be closer to Bella. Finally, after a good ten minutes of looking, he caught sight of her.
And what a sight she was.
She'd cut her hair shorter and dyed it light blonde since he'd last seen her. It was short and messy, longer on top, fierce and beautiful. She was jumping high off the ground, warming up, taking breaths, with a focus so intense he doubted she would've noticed him if he sat on the front row and yelled her name. She had a slight tan. She wore boxer shorts and a tank top with the number 21, and the scars on her stomach and back were proudly on display. One of her ears was covered in earrings.
To him, she was easily the most beautiful woman there. The sparkle in her eyes, the joy in her smile, the perpetual mirth in her voice. He wished he could hear her.
Another athlete said something to her and she threw her head back in laughter, and Edward couldn't help smiling. Just a moment later, Bella threw herself into a hug with a man Edward couldn't see, and Edward's stomach twisted.
They hadn't seen each other in eight months. They'd lived apart for three years and saw each other, at most, two times a year. They video-called, they texted, they had phone sex, but a lot could've happened. Premed was brutal, her training was brutal, long distance was brutal, and most of their fights were caused by the distance between them.
He walked closer, confident that even with their schedules, Bella would've said something if she was unhappy. She parted from the guy but they held on to each other's shoulders as they begun doing warmup exercises for the shot put.
Edward wiped his face. Having done long distance for so long was fucking with his head. He must've been exhausted if Bella just hugging another man made him jealous.
He sat, observing her in silence, enjoying the moment. It was such a treat to observe her, and he knew better than to distract her before the events of the day were over, but given that they were thrown out of order, he didn't have a clue when he could expect her to be done. He opened his laptop, writing emails and only lifting his eyes when Bella competed. She was doing well, he could see, but he was beyond thrilled that her initial partial scholarship in NCAA Division II had been replaced by transfer offers for colleges in Division I, for her running. She could get decent points in decathlon, but her real glory was running.
She had started to prepare for the transfer and ensuring that she qualified for a (potential) full scholarship in the previous autumn, and offers had poured in. She had done everything to avoid sitting out for an academic year of residence (skip a year of competing), and the only thing keeping her from a transfer was her graduation in a month.
'You don't need luck, so don't forget to draw a cow in the corner of your exam papers for me, with a fluffy tail and jar of marmalade on top. Love you. Would love you more if you were here.'
Edward laughed, watching her put away her phone, and texted her back.
One by one, the events of the day came to an end in a strange order until women's 400 meters was announced, and Edward put away his laptop to watch. He wouldn't miss her running for the world.
Edward knew Bella was about to run before he saw her. She'd started a chant, pressing against her chest with a closed fist twice before throwing her fist in the air with a grunt, and the audience lived for it. Edward joined. It grew in the rhythm of the hit song by Queen before erupting into cheers. Bella could work the audience like nobody's business, and when she ended her chant by kissing her inner wrist, the audience followed.
Speculation had taken place in the depths of the internet about why she did it. When asked, she always made a joke and changed the topic.
Edward looked at his own matching tattoo on his pulse point, a scribble the shape of the scar on her stomach turning into a heartbeat.
Bella, when shown on the big screen, waved at the audience, but her focus was obvious and she spent a moment adjusting her starting blocks.
At the gunshot, the women leaped off the blocks. Bella ran fourth for most of the circle around the stadium. In the finishing line, she passed the second woman, but just as she was about to pass the first one, the woman fell and twisted her ankle. Bella slowed to a stop on the grass, allowing others to pass, ran back to the person and spoke a few words to her. As others were crossing the finish line, Bella lifted the woman off the ground and supported her as they half-jogged, half-walked to the finish line.
Bella lifted her arms above her to make the audience clap, and they cheered along with her. She shared a few more words with the woman, patting her on the back as her teammates took over. Bella walked over to the benches. Her coach came over, and Edward dearly wished he could hear the argument because heated words were shared. At some point, Edward was sure that Bella said 'Well I don't give a shit' given her body language.
She'd ruined her score to help a woman from another college.
Their argument lasted so long that men's 400 meters was followed by an announcement for women's 100 meters, and Bella turned away from her coach, leaped high into the air, and begun the same chant for the audience to follow. Edward did not know how she managed to work the crowd up into such a frenzy, but she did, and as she ended the chant with a kiss on her wrist, Edward put his hands together in a prayer. He did not know how to express the nerves, awe and pride he felt on her behalf.
She, once again, took her position, and the starter pistol echoed in the stadium. Bella lead the race by an insanely wide margin, and when she crossed the finish line, she leaped into the air. A second later, she rested her hands on her knees, her chest rising and falling as she quietly waited for the board to show her time.
10.67
The crowd erupted into cheers, and one of Bella's friends jumped into her arms in congratulations. They piled on top of her, and Edward took a photo of them before he stood and walked downstairs closer to the track. Unless they'd also added events from the second day to the first day, this seemed to be the last event for the day.
The crowd around Bella dispersed, leaving her to smile her secret smile, rubbing her inner wrist. Edward, impatient and now close enough, put fingers in his mouth and whistled.
Her reaction was immediate.
She scanned the crowd before her eyes landed on him, and he barely had time to take his hand out of his pocket when Bella, instead of opening the gate, leaped on the ledge between them and into his arms. He squeezed her against him, supporting her butt as she hid her nose in his neck. He couldn't put into words how incredible it felt to finally have her in his arms.
"I'm so proud of you, baby," he whispered. "So proud. You're incredible."
"I can't believe you're here," she half-gasped, half-whispered, squeezing him. "How? When? For how long?"
Edward pressed a kiss against her cheek but did not reply.
"I can't believe you're here," she repeated. "Are the cameras still on us?"
He glanced at the screen. "Yes."
Bella hid her face in his neck, taking a whiff of his hair, enjoying his strength and warmth and love. "You're not supposed to be here. You're supposed to be taking your exam."
"I did them early to be here with you."
"Thank you." She squeezed him harder. "I'm sorry for our fight the other day. I was tired and stupid and— I just miss you so much."
"I know, baby. I know. Me, too."
When the speakers focused on the next set of women's 100 meters, Edward glanced at the screen. "The camera is gone."
He tilted his head back to see her face, and she had the wildest, happiest, most beautiful grin on her face. Her eyes shimmered. She cupped his jaw and kissed him, gasping, biting, teasing, loving the intimacy. Edward returned her kiss just as fiercely. Her chest was still heaving, and she slid down on his body but not away. Edward kept his hands on her waist.
"Will you wait until I talk to the coach and get changed?"
"Of course," he replied. "I'll be here."
Edward continued writing emails on his laptop as he waited for Bella to return. Slowly, after men's 100 meters came to an end, the audience dispersed, and he could hear their discussion of Bella's 100 meter run. She had become the crown jewel of the school, and with each competition, it had become more and more evident that her talents were wasted on decathlon. She should've been competing on running events as she already, easily, belonged in Division I in her times.
His phone rang.
"Hi, mom."
"Sweetie, did you make it to her competition?"
"I was a bit late, but I made it to the most important part."
"And?"
Edward knew better than to describe the details of the competition. "She's amazing. I don't think anyone quite grasps how good she is."
"That's wonderful," Esme replied. "I just wanted to call you to wish you good luck, not that you need it, and— to thank you for giving me a daughter."
Her voice caught, and Edward smiled, glancing around to make sure that Bella was not within earshot. "Mom, I haven't even asked her yet. Give me some time, please."
"Are you nervous?"
Edward ran a hand through his hair, chuckling. "I'm petrified. Have you met her? She's amazing. There's nothing I could possibly come up with that would be good enough."
"You have no reason to be nervous," Esme replied. "I wish I could be there to see her reaction. Can you record it?"
"I'm nervous enough as it is. I don't need a camera in my face to make it worse."
"How will you ask her?"
"Mom," Edward warned. "You're probably the fifth person to ask me that. I'm beginning to feel a lot of pressure. Can I just… she'll tell you later, okay? Presuming she'll accept."
"Of course she will accept!" Esme answered, but paused. "All right, sweetie. Did you find an apartment? How did your exams go? Any hurdles for your transfer? Are you all right?"
"All good, mom. I'm okay. A bit tired, but everything's set. Are you ready for us?"
"Yes! I'm so excited for her, she's going to love it all."
They spoke a little about Edward's two days in New York with his dad and brother, and Edward had barely disconnected the call when it rang again.
"Hi, Charlie."
"Hi, son. Did you make it to Bella's competition? She told me in the morning the 100 meters was delayed, but I can't get hold of her now. Did she run?"
"She did," Edward replied. "She did fantastic."
"Good enough for Columbia?"
Edward laughed. "Has she never told you how good she is?"
"She's been really nervous about the transfer. It sounded like, maybe, today would determine the result."
"If that's the case, and I'm not sure it is, you should know that she could've tied her shoelace for a second and a half at the finish line and still qualified for the women's first division at Columbia. Hell, with her time, she qualified for their men's standard. She's probably among the handful of world's fastest women now."
Charlie paused. "You are not serious."
"Deathly serious." Edward laughed. "Did she really never tell you?"
"I thought she was joking! You know how deadpan she can be."
Edward could not contain the grin on his face.
"I knew she was good, but… no, she never told me," Charlie continued. "Her back injury… I always thought that would put a cap on how much she could achieve."
"It's been three years since she even felt pain, and she's inches taller than all her competition. If there's a limit to her speed, it's possible she has yet to achieve it."
Charlie did not answer for so long that Edward thought he'd disconnected.
"Charlie?"
"Yes, yes, still here," he replied. "I am… processing your words. I always had the impression that her college choice was a compromise after she didn't get into Juilliard."
"It was, at first. Only she could tell you if that's still the case, but seeing her run… I don't think she has too many regrets with where she's ended up, and you should see how brilliantly she lights up the crowd. It's insane. The audience adores her. You should surprise her at one of her competitions in the fall."
"Maybe… maybe I will," Charlie said. "Will you remind her to call me?"
"Of course, but— is it okay if she calls you at the beginning of next week? Can you handle the wedding preparations with my parents without my input for a few days?"
The tip of Edward's ears reddened as he realized what he was asking. Because Bella and Edward so rarely got to spend time with each other, when they did, they ruthlessly cut off everyone else. Being together again was always so intense.
"Sure thing," Charlie replied, deciding not to think about what Edward was telling him. "Emmett and Rose have been here for a few days as well, and he's a big help. He knows all this random stuff about her preferences. Did you know that Bella wrote a diary when you guys were juniors in high school? That crazy year?"
"You're kidding me."
"Yeah, there's multiple stacks of notebooks on her bed and apparently Emmett had them. Well, anyway, he's read them, and he's adding random stuff to your wedding from there that he thinks she'd love. You alright with that?"
"Sounds great," Edward replied, pausing. He ran his fingers through his hair. "Do you think… what if she says no?"
"You are not serious. She would never."
"It's pretty arrogant of me to plan our wedding before I've even asked her."
"Son, her only complaint about weddings is, and has always been, as you know — planning it. You are taking a huge weight off her shoulders by doing it this way. She will love it."
Edward ran his knuckles over his teeth, not nearly as confident in her answer as Charlie seemed to be. If Bella said no, or even if she said no for now, they'd have less than three days to remove every sign of a wedding from Charlie's backyard.
"Thanks for helping me with everything, I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
"Of course, son. And, for what it's worth, I don't think she could've done better for herself."
Edward took a breath after his call with Charlie. Everything was going too well. Ever since he'd involved his entire family, and hers, in planning their wedding (behind Bella's back), he'd expected someone to tell him what a horrible mistake he was making, how much he was presuming of Bella and how he was taking away her choice in the matter. Nobody had argued with him, and it made him uneasy. Either he was spot-on about what she wanted, or his family was too scared to ruffle any feathers by arguing with him.
But if all her scattered comments about wedding planning through the years turned out to have been untrue, Edward was ready to swallow his pride, cancel the whole thing and do it all over again to her specifications.
The only negative comment, so far, that he had received regarding his proposal was about them being too young.
He was 26, now, and she was 22. Of course they were young.
Before he met Bella, he'd always thought the words 'When you know, you know' to be kind of a cop-out. It was a phrase people used when they weren't bothered to understand or explain the reasons behind their decision to choose a partner for life.
Then, after surviving that insane first year with her, after her injuries, physical and psychological, after getting to know this quirky, original, beautiful girl who loved the world and the people in it more than anyone else he knew in spite of what happened to her — after she so fully accepted and supported his decision to take a gap year, after living with her in a shoebox in Queens and after the torturous long distance relationship they'd had for three years, he knew. He knew years ago.
Bella was amazing. He loved spending time with her and they could discuss a topic for hours. They shared priorities and values, she was fun and funny, quirky and kind, passionate and beautiful. He had never met a person whose smile was as infectious as Bella's whom he wouldn't have considered to be beautiful, and he was ready to fight anyone who said otherwise.
He sometimes saw people hesitating around Bella when they first met her, but the moment she cracked a joke, smiled, and let her personality shine through, she won people over. Even her little chant before her running proved her love of including people. She was insanely inclusive and he loved her for it.
A few of his lab-mates had seen his ring box, and their surprise and pity felt a bit unexpected for Edward.
How could Edward be sure that nobody better would come along? What if, tomorrow, a drop-dead gorgeous woman with insane intelligence and insane kindness and insane everything knocked on his door the day after, wouldn't he be sad to be tied to Bella?
Edward did not think they understood much at all about how love worked because, yes, that could happen. But, usually, this kind of thinking completely ignored the other parts of a relationship, the parts that mattered, and if you sat around waiting for this hypothetical person who had no flaws, nobody would ever be good enough.
And if you did find the perfect person in every way, wouldn't they have wanted to be together with someone equally perfect? And wouldn't they have high expectations for their partner, higher than any sane person would wish to be held to on a daily basis?
It felt like such a fallacy, waiting for this Bella 2.0. In what way was this hypothetical new version supposed to be better? And if she was better, who was to say that all the rest of her would remain the same? If a version of Bella existed in some alternate universe who'd never been bullied, who's to say that she wouldn't be so altered that Edward wouldn't even be attracted to her — what if she had none of the insights, discussions, thoughts and character that this Bella had? And if everything was better, what would that even mean?
She wouldn't be the same person, of course, and Edward wanted Bella. He wanted this Bella, with her history and flaws and character, and if she died tomorrow in a car crash he couldn't prevent, his only regret would've been that he hadn't asked her to share her life with him, to move in together and to, one day, have children together. He wanted it all with her, and he had finally, these past few years, discussed the topic with Bella deeply and seriously enough to begin to understand her wishes on the matter.
She had seemed apprehensive but delighted, and shy about expressing what she wanted. She always worded the topic carefully for Edward to understand that he might choose someone else, that she was realistic about life, and that she wouldn't blame him if he found someone else.
Fucking insane, his girlfriend.
Slowly and carefully, he kept approaching the topic until, two years ago, a year after he'd moved to Chicago, she had suggested that they get small matching tattoos on their inner wrists — scribbles, really — and it was like an anvil was lifted from his shoulders.
Immediately, he saw that she dearly, deeply hoped they would work out, long-term, but she was scared to wish for it. She was scared that this happiness was ephemeral — this passion and delight and love they'd found in each other. It felt too good to be true, even he agreed with that. Her fear and hope was written in the way she reasoned for the tattoos, even though he was sold at the first sentence. She said many things, few of which he remembered. All he heard was, I want a permanent sign that I am tied to you.
It was a phenomenally stupid idea, of course, for a young couple in love to get matching tattoos. The internet was full of stories of how badly it would definitely end.
It was just too bad that Bella was exactly Edward's brand of crazy, and her idea was perfect. But the most convincing argument for him was one that she never expressed.
Even if — unlikely but possible — they did not work out, he would never regret having had her in his life. Her character had shaped him in too many ways, her insight and discussions and love had changed him too much, and he never forgot that they had been, first and foremost, best friends. They still were. But now it was more in so many ways, for so long, and the distance had tortured them for too many years.
It was time to make her his, and be hers. A small part of him was scared shitless that she, in spite of everything he knew about her, would refuse him, but he had to ask.
It felt insane to him that people existed in the world who were uncertain if the person they were with was the one they wanted to marry. He'd made his choice, and he got it now.
When you know, you know.
He did not go to sleep, wondering if she was the one for him. He did not stay awake, afraid that someone better would come along later. For him, nobody was better, and that was a choice and a promise he wanted to make to Bella. Because when you know, you know.
Their age felt so irrelevant it would've barely crossed his mind had so many people not commented on it.
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A/N: Drop me a line or two if you're up for it. Hate and nitpick and share your thoughts. I've missed you all.