The characters of Twilight all belong to Stephanie Meyer. I'm just here to shake things up.
"Sweatpants?"
Alice's judgmental voice was often the first thing I heard whenever I walked out of my room. I slept terribly the night before and didn't have the energy to do anything more than roll out of bed after my second alarm and brush my teeth. I shouldn't be surprised that Alice would disapprove of my rumpled shirt and bedhead.
"You got a problem with that?"
"Yeah," she said. And she really meant it, "If you want to wear loungewear in public, the least you could do is wear the joggers I bought you. You want something that hugs the body, Edward. Not something sags. You look terrible."
"Well, Alice, I'm starting a new trend," I smiled back coldly.
She held her hands out, blocking the staircase, "Edward, please. If anyone sees you in those pants, it'll reflect negatively on me. ME!"
"Oh my god." I had nearly forgotten that I had the Perfect Cullen Image to maintain. Who knew what dire consequences loomed before us if a member of this family didn't look perfect? Buildings would collapse. Anarchy would ensue. Life as we knew it would cease to exist.
"The joggers, Edward. I'm begging you."
It would be far less draining to concede than to fight with Alice, so I turned back around into my room and changed into the stupid pants Alice requested. As soon as I had her approval, I was free to make my way downstairs.
"Missed you this morning," Emmett sang when I entered the kitchen.
He was referring to our morning workout sessions in our basement gym. His attempts at brotherly bonding included dragging me out of bed and shoving me on a treadmill at five in the morning. Like the clothes Alice purchased on my behalf, working out must have been another necessity to belong to the Cullen family. Fashionable and fit—every one of us.
I would be lying if I said I continued with the workouts for the sake of brotherly bonding. Instead, a certain recurring daydream was the inspiration that brought me down to the gym each morning. One with Isabella Swan's gentle hands roaming over my chest and arms, enjoying what she felt…
However, my sleepless night kept me in bed for as long as possible this morning. "Wasn't up for it," I answered honestly.
"Your loss, man," he shook his head and shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth, "Today was back and chest."
"How ever will I go on?" I muttered.
"Oh, honey!" Esme grabbed my chin and turned my face towards her. She took in the large bags under my eyes and mussed hair with more concern than was entirely necessary, "Are you sick? Should you be staying home?"
"There's no reason to go to school if you're sick, Edward," Carlisle chastised behind his mug.
"I'm fine," I assured them both, grabbing a travel mug for my own cup of coffee.
But Esme wasn't going to let this go, "Is it us?" It sounded more like a plea than a question.
"No."
"Is it school?" Esme asked.
"No."
"Is it the kids at school?"
"No."
"Is it a girl?" she whispered.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing my new overprotective mother away. When I opened them, she was still there, worrying herself sick over nothing, "I didn't sleep well. That's all."
"We should have let him pick out a mattress, Carlisle," she began chirping. Her heels clacked around the kitchen as she sought to fix this little non-problem. "Or we could get a fan in there, he might be too hot. Or even just the noise helps some people sleep. Or those white noise machines. Maybe the sound of real waves aren't comforting enough—he might need manufactured waves, Carlisle."
"I'll go to the store on the way home from work, Darling," Carlisle promised his wife.
I could not groan loud enough.
"Morning, Edward." Rosalie looked particularly chipper this morning as she dumped various fruits and veg into the blender for her morning smoothie.
"Rose."
"How's physics going?" she taunted.
It was a loaded question—that much was clear. But there was no way she could know how poorly I did on my physics test yesterday. I decided to play it cool, "Fine."
"Oh really? Because one of my friends has an Independent Study with Mr. Banner and she sent me a little text this morning while she was grading the tests for him. Any idea what it says?"
It was a staredown between Rose and me, and I was losing. "Not a one," I lied.
"She said that your test was particularly interesting—apparently the first half sounded like the ravings of a disturbed lunatic and the last half was completely blank," she laughed, "What? Did you pass out in the middle?"
Basically. I spend the first part of the test, engrossed in Bella's horrified stare, unable to think of anything besides her. By the time I dropped back down to Earth, class was halfway through and I had to rush to get something on the page. But never would I admit anything like that to Rosalie or anyone else.
"Rosalie," Esme scolded, "Edward, are you having trouble in Physics? Would you like us to find you a tutor, honey?"
"I'm taking care of it," I assured Esme, "I already found a study partner and everything."
"Angela Weber?" Rosalie asked.
How did she know all of this?
Rosalie answered my question as if she could read my mind, "One of my friends is a barista at that little coffee shop of yours," she smiled, entirely pleased with herself. "She says Angela Weber is sweet on you."
"Edward," Carlisle stated, "If you're having trouble in school, studying with a pretty girl sometimes does more harm than good." Emmett snickered.
Today must be Berede Edward Day. I would have to remember to mark it on my calendar.
"We're friends. She's helping me study. That's all," I explained to everyone in the kitchen, hoping to silence them once and for all.
I threw my backpack over my shoulder, snatched my travel mug out from under the coffee maker, and made my way towards the nearest exit.
"Anything you'd like to add?" I asked Jasper sarcastically, who was standing off to the side of the room, sipping on his iced coffee.
He looked me up and down for a moment. "How married are you to that haircut?"
He was joking. I knew that. But it didn't make me want to rip his head off any less.
I trudged into the school, expecting the rest of the day to go as well as my morning did. So, I was surprised, elated, enthralled to see Isabella Swan standing beside my homeroom. Her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth, and she was staring up at the clock on the wall, anxiously tapping her foot, like she was waiting for something.
Or someone, I swallowed.
In my head, I went over the signs I had learned with Angela: My name is Edward. I'm sorry. I would like to be your friend.
"Oh, Edward!" I heard Jessica from down that hallway.
I didn't mean to recoil at the sound of her voice. I liked Jessica—she was nice when she wasn't under Lauren's influence and quick as a whip. What I didn't like was when she said my name like that. Like I was wrapped around her finger and all she had to do was say my name in that tone of hers and I would fall to my knees, ready to do whatever she asked. Unfortunately for Jessica, her tantalizing tone had no effect on me. In fact, the one person whose voice would have any effect on me at all didn't speak.
She stood between me and Isabella, "I wanted to talk to you, you have a sec?"
"Um…" I started, not wanting to seem rude, but also not wanting Isabella to leave before I had a chance to talk to her.
Jessica continued anyway, "So, are you an Angela like a thing now?"
"Hmm?"
"Are you secretly dating or something?"
"Nope," I said, popping the "P".
"Oh," she seemed pleasantly surprised, "It's just the two of you have been spending so much time together lately…"
"Merely studying. You're welcome to join us whenever you want." I internally cringed at that, hoping she wouldn't actually take me up on the offer.
Over Jessica's curls, I could see Isabella's eyes narrow.
"Okay cool," she nodded, "Maybe Ben won't hate you anymore, now," she added with a laugh.
"What?" That threw me for a moment, bringing my attention to Jessica. Ben has been nothing but kind to me. A little aloof, maybe, but kind.
Jessica giggled, "You didn't know?"
I made a vague I-don't-know sound.
"Yeah. He's all upset that you're encroaching on his woman. He has his boys ready to pounce if you ever make a move on Angela."
I pinched the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger, "Great."
"Don't worry, he'll call them off once he realized you're not interested in her."
How I managed to skirt past any sort of drama at Forks High School was beyond me. I missed being ignored and silently pitied by everyone—it was preferable to whatever this was by far. I was more than done with this conversation and tried to step around Jessica.
"And Lauren might lay off Angela, too," Jessica added before I was able to make my escape, "She's all butthurt because she thinks you like Angela, too."
Once again, Jessica managed to capture my attention from where it belonged—with Isabella. I turned to her in disbelief, "Are you kidding?" No one could actually be that petty, could they?
"Nuh-uh," Jessica shook her head, causing her halo of curls to bounce, "Lauren gets mean when she feels threatened. I think it's a defense mechanism. I'm one of the few that can handle her."
"Great," I repeated, feeling anything but.
"Besides, there's a super easy fix that can sweep away all of this mess." She fluttered her hands in front of her in a sweeping motion.
"What's that?"
"Go out with me," Jessica declared, like it was the most obvious thing in her world.
Over Jessica's curls, I watched Isabella's expression switch from concentration to blatant horror. Over what, I wasn't quite sure.
Then I realized what Jessica had said, "What?" My eyes kept darting over Jessica's afro, keeping tabs on Isabella.
"Go out with me. Not only does it make the most sense, but it would also help get Ben off your back and Lauren off of Angela's. Win-win-win!"
It did not slip past my notice that she framed it more like a command than a question.
Before I could compose a gentle rejection that would keep our friendship intact, behind Jessica, Isabella tossed her armful of papers up into the air and threw herself onto the ground.
"Isabella?" I called, uselessly, skirting past Jessica to get to her side.
Isabella sat on the floor, making no move to collect her things or pick herself up. The expression on her face would almost be funny if I wasn't so concerned. She looked absolutely flabbergasted—like she no idea where she was or how she had gotten there.
I knelt by her side while Jessica collected the papers that were now scattered along the hall. I pointed to Isabella, held out my palm in front of me, and grazed the side of my other hand across my palm back and forth: Are you alright?
Somehow her eyes got even bigger as she looked at my hands asking her a silent question. Her mouth popped open in a little O. I repeated the gesture.
Tucking her lower lip between her teeth, she quickly nodded. I held out my hand to help her stand, but she ignored my offer. Jessica returned and handed Isabella back her papers with a strained smile.
"So, Edward," Jessica said, using that tone again. She planted herself between Isabella and me, "What do you say?"
"I'm sorry, Jessica..."
"You cannot be serious," she said it like she didn't even consider this to be a possibility.
Isabella backed away from the conversation in front of her. I wanted to curse Jessica out for giving Isabella the chance to escape again, but I eased the tension with nonconsequential pleasantries instead, "You're beautiful and smart and fun, but you're not for me. I'm sorry."
Jessica's lip quivered slightly, but she held her chin high as she turned and walked away from me.
I was right to think it was going to be a terrible day. I was in a lousy mood the remainder of the day. Not only had I hurt my friend's feelings, but I didn't get a chance to talk to Isabella or find out why she was near my homeroom. Lauren, however, was in a great mood during our two classes together, and I didn't want to think about the reason behind it.
Lunch managed to get worse. A devastated Jessica sat at our table surround by Mike, Tyler, and Eric as they all tried to console her while still vying for her attention. Angela sat dutifully across from her friend, holding onto her hand and offering her snacks. I would clearly not be welcomed at that particular lunch table and quickly sought out the spot Angela and I had studied at the day before. I tried to focus on my lunch, but every time I looked up, I was either met by Ben's resentful glare or Lauren's haughty smile. There was no comfort anywhere in the courtyard, for even Isabella was nowhere to be seen.
When I finished, I stood and cleaned up the trash around me. Angela's voice appeared behind me, "Hey."
I turned to greet her. Ben was beside her, as he often was, gazing at her. Now that Jessica had brought it to my attention, I could see his feelings for Angela, written there so plainly on his face. It was so obvious—how had I missed it before? His eyes were swimming with desire, admiration, and—when they flickered unwillingly to me—resentment.
"Hey."
"Sorry for ditching you today…" Angela started, but I waved her off.
"You were just trying to be there for your friend. No worries."
"She told me how you rejected her," Angela said as the three of us began walking towards the trashcans to get rid of our trays, "I think you were very kind about it. She'll get over it quickly."
"Thank…" I muttered.
"What's wrong with Jessica?" Ben asked.
"Nothing," I shrugged, "But I meant what I said, she's just not for me."
"So…," Angela started, staring straight ahead, "If Jessica isn't for you, does that mean there's someone who is?"
"No, there's n—,"
My sentence stopped short as I was caught in my lie. She stood right outside the courtyard, between the four doorways that led to the different parts of the school. Looking like a goddess as the crowd of students filtered around her. I had no idea if this beautiful creature was meant for me, but I desperately wanted her to be.
Isabella.
I almost dropped my lunch tray right there on the ground. Trying—and probably failing—to not look like a desperate idiot, I rushed to throw out my trash and stuck the tray in the kitchen window so I could get to where Isabella seemed to be waiting for me.
Dear god, please be waiting for me.
"I-I-I'll meet you in c-class," I barely managed to stammer to Angela.
Isabella maintained eye contact with me as I broke away from Ben and Angela to get to her. Once more, I reviewed my signs in my head. I couldn't afford any miscommunications. Not after failing to talk to her so many times before.
When I got closer, she took a large step towards me. The final proof that she was, indeed, standing there for me. I was so excited, I almost choked on my own spit.
I immediately found myself lost her flawless features: her creamy skin, her pink lips—slightly parted—the delicate curve of her button nose. Enchanted by her beauty, I almost missed that she was trying to hand me a piece of paper. Kicking myself for acting like an idiot before I even said anything, I accepted her note. Two small words were written in an elegant script.
Thank you.
At least I knew the response to this one. I signed "you're welcome" at her and she lit up in the most adorable way. However, I didn't remember the signs to ask her what she was thanking me for. I held up one finger, hoping it was enough of a universal gesture for her to understand that I wanted her to hold on for a moment. I reached around my backpack and dug through the front pocket for a notebook and pen. Right when I began writing, her hand stopped me.
Did she not wish to speak to me anymore? I looked up at her, confused.
She pointed to her ears and nodded, then pointed to her throat and shook her head.
"You can hear, but you can't speak?" I asked.
She nodded.
"Oh. Well, that's better."
Her bottom lip slid between her teeth.
"Better for you, I mean!" I backpedaled, not meaning to offend her. I pulled my ASL phrase guidebook out of my backpack, "Believe me, if I could only use this, you would have had no idea what I was trying to say for a long time."
She placed her hands on my notebook and looked up, silently asking if she could borrow it. I handed it to her, and she scribbled something down. I already have no idea what you're trying to say.
I laughed. That was fair. It had actually put me at ease that she couldn't hear my first pathetic attempts at talking to her. "I guess you heard all of that rambling after all, huh?"
Her answering smile was the biggest smile I'd seen yet. Cute, she wrote.
Well, I was certainly glad I could amuse her.
I held up her note, "What are you thanking me for?"
Kindness, patience. She thought for a second, smiled to herself, and added, perseverance.
"That's a very polite way to put 'embarrassingly desperate'," I noted.
She pointed to her previous message that said, cute.
The warning bell chimed—we would have to get to class. However, there was still one more thing I wanted to do before this moment ended, "Would it offend you if I still try to sign? I've been practicing for you."
She gestured for me to go ahead.
Although I felt like a kindergartener performing in their first recital, I couldn't wipe the enormous grin off my face. This was happening. I was talking to Isabella Swan. I signed, "My name is Edward. Will you have lunch with me tomorrow?"
She flushed a very attractive shade of pink, bit down her smile, and nodded.
Somehow, my smile managed to grow wider. "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow, Isabella."
This time, she tore out what she had written and handed me the piece of scrap paper. Bella.
"You prefer Bella?"
The blush grew a shade darker, and she nodded once more.
"Alright," I smiled, tucking the piece of paper into the pocket of my jeans, "I'll see you tomorrow, Bella."
I was practically floating throughout the rest of the day. Walking on air. Thinking of Bella's warm, chocolate eyes locked with mine, glowing with mirth. Basking in the glory of earning her beautiful smiles. I had no idea what had caused this abrupt switch in her feelings towards me, but I didn't care. I would be enjoying lunch with her tomorrow. An entire hour with her eyes and her smile…
If Angela and Ben had noticed my mental absence during our last two classes together, neither of them mentioned it. We still met up in the coffee shop that afternoon. I might not need to use sign language to speak to Bella, but I would still need to understand it for her sake.
"So," Ben commented when Angela left the table to order our drinks, "I've never seen that girl talk to anyone the entire year she's been at this school. What did she want from you?"
"Hmmm?"
"That girl. The one who was waiting for you after lunch?"
"Oh," I tried to be casual about it, but there was a low chance I was fooling anybody, "She was just thanking me for something. I might have lunch with her tomorrow."
"Wow," he breathed, sincerely impressed. I couldn't blame him, "Isabella Swan, huh?"
"Bella," I sighed, almost dreamily, "She prefers Bella."