Chapter 10.
Leg day. The most dreaded of my workouts with Jasper. Even though the summer program is over and next week we have team trials before the start of the semester, I need to continue my six-days-a-week training plan with Jasper to keep gaining muscle.
The psycho loves it. I think he likes hurting me.
I guess I kind of enjoy it too. I like pushing myself and seeing what I can get my body to accomplish.
Today though, I am not looking forward to it.
I worked this morning until noon, on three hours of sleep, and then rushed back to the dorms before training. Only for Bella not to open her door. I found Vicky in my room with Emmett, and she said that Bella was sleeping it off, that she heard her being sick in the bathroom throughout the morning.
Bella hasn't answered any of my texts, so now on top of exhausted I'm also fucking worried.
I tell myself to relax. That she's not used to drinking so it'd make sense she got sick from it. That sleeping would help her feel better. That once she does, she'll text me back.
I reason with myself on the way to the gym, but I might not be too convincing since, as soon as he sees me, Jasper frowns.
"What's wrong?" he asks, leaning on the squat machine.
"Nothing." I drop my gym bag on the floor, cracking my neck.
"You sure?"
"Yeah..." I look down at the list he has on his clipboard. Squats, leg curls, leg presses—all of his favorite stuff. "Where are we starting?" The quicker I can get through this, the faster I can go check on Bella and then hopefully get some sleep.
Jasper wastes no time. It's what I like about him. He also doesn't talk a lot, which I appreciate.
We get through the whole workout without issues, without words, and I give it my all. My focus is on completing each rep, so I don't think about Bella, or how she almost kissed me last night. So I don't think about how that might affect our friendship and my potential spot on the team. So I don't think about how much I wish I would have kissed her instead.
So I don't think.
On the last set of leg presses, my legs are not so subtly shaking. My hand is firmly clasped onto the lock handle, ready for the twentieth rep, except when I complete it, Jasper removes my hand from the handle, the weights pushing my legs down.
"C'mon, that was twenty." I counted.
"You've got five more in you."
"I really don't." The air puffs out of me.
He gives me the look. The one he knows works. The one that says so much without words.
My hands clench over my quivering quads while I fail to contain a wince.
Just five more and I'd pass my personal best.
So I take a deep breath and then I'm pushing through somehow while Jasper hypes me up. After the fifth and last press, my hand is quick on the lock handle, keeping the weights off of me. My legs drop and I sit forward, holding onto the top plate and hiding my face in my arm.
I fucking did it.
"Walk it off." Jasper pats my back, his hand then lingering on my shoulder.
"I need a second," I say, trying to catch my breath. "Or I'm gonna barf."
Jasper chuckles next to me, his hand still clasped on my shoulder. "All right, breathe," he says. "Then walk it off. It will help with the nausea, I promise."
I do what he says while he puts everything away. Once I've collected my breathing and kept myself from hurling, I look at him to find him staring back at me.
"Are you okay?" Genuine concern is clear in his eyes.
"Yeah." I walk slowly to him, my legs feeling like Jell-O. Fucking green Jell-O. I check my phone. Still nothing from Bella. "It wasn't that bad."
"Oh, don't tempt me, boy, or I'll have you do one more set of everything."
"Okay, I lied." I flop next to him, back on the mat, a towel covering my face. "It was the worst, and I am dying."
He chuckles and sits on the floor next to me, which is very weird. He never stays behind. Not after we're done. I'm surprised, but I don't have the energy in me to react.
"So, how many hours are you working at the sandwich place?" sounds like an innocent enough question.
"Oh…" I turn to look at him, pulling the towel from my face. So this is where this is going. "Ten to fifteen a week." It's more like twenty-ish, but if this is about my performance or something, I don't want him to think I'm slacking because of my job.
"Are you getting enough sleep?"
"Yeah," I say, but I know it sounds unconvincing. It doesn't help that I'm shattered today. That I could fall asleep on this mat, right here, right now. That I'm about to. I push up on my elbows and then sit up completely, wiping my face with the towel and then wrapping it around my neck. "It's just that we stayed out late last night. That's all."
"Who's 'we'?"
Ah, fuck.
"Bella and I." I eye him tentatively. "We're just friends," I say before he can dig some more.
"Where'd you go?" he asks casually. If I was more alert, I would have seen where he was going with it.
"Just to the house," I say and immediately regret it because his eyebrows rise like he already knows.
"The lake house?"
"Yeah…"
"Was there a party?"
"C'mon, don't make me be the snitch." I scrub a hand down my face. I'm done and I'm sore and I'm just so fucking tired.
"All right," he says, unfazed.
"Okay." I make an effort to get up, but his next words stop me in place.
"You're one of our best guys in the program."
Sarcasm, maybe? I laugh. "No, I'm not."
"Yes, you are," he insists, his expression serious. "And you haven't had the privileges some of these other kids here have had. With the private gyms and the All-Star teams. They've been doing it forever with nothing else to worry about."
I try to read his eyes but I can't for the life of me figure out where he is going with this. "Am I in trouble?"
It's his turn to laugh now as he sets an arm on my shoulder. "You're not in trouble, Edward."
"Okay. So, can I go?" Please, just let me go.
"We are worried about you, though."
I take a deep breath and stare down at my hands. "I'm okay, I promise. I'll get more sleep, and I won't stay out as late." I try to get up again, but he pulls me back.
"Here's the thing," he starts. "Rosalie's niece is moving in with her before the start of the semester and she is going to start coming to our practices. Rosalie wants to incorporate her into the performances for a few special stunt sequences."
"She'd be on the A Team?" I ask defensively. We've been working our asses off through the summer. It seems unfair someone new would join this late in the game.
"Sort of…Not for competitions, though. She's six years old," Jasper explains with a smile. "She's insanely talented, a natural flyer, but she needs someone to practice stunts with."
"Oh…"
"It could be after practice, or before, depending on your schedule and what works best. Do you have any experience training kids?"
I scratch my neck and stifle a yawn into my arm. "Not that young, no."
"But would you be willing to?"
How does talking about me not getting enough sleep turn into me signing up for more shit?
"I mean, yeah, I guess, yes." I guess it could be a good opportunity and I'd get to try coaching more seriously. Plus I'll do anything to stay in Coach Hale's good graces.
"Okay, great." He pats my shoulder. "Usually, private lessons go for $50-60 an hour, depending on the coach's experience. So does $50 sound reasonable to you? To start with, at least?"
"Wait, I'm getting paid for it?!" My face must show my shock because Jasper starts laughing like I've never seen him laugh before.
Fifty dollars an hour? That's five hours at Subway!
"Of course you'll get paid; that's the whole point!" He gets up, still chuckling. "We don't have a full scholarship to offer you, at least not yet, but maybe with private lessons, you can cut some if not all of your hours at work?"
"Yes, absolutely!" I try to get up, but my legs are cramping hard and I fall back with a whimper. He extends a hand to me, shaking his head, and helps me up. "I won't disappoint. I promise," I say with an impromptu handshake.
"I know you won't," he says, letting go of my hand. "Just to reiterate: this is so you can cut your hours at work and Get. Some. Rest."
"I will. I am. I'm going to. Like right now."
"You'll ice first?"
"Of course," I say, rolling my eyes as he leaves chuckling.
I dip my legs in the ice bath for ten minutes, shower at the gym, and rush back to the dorms. It's mid-afternoon and my eyelids feel as heavy as my legs. I stop by Bella's room first and knock on the door softly while I pull my phone out of my pocket. Still no answer from her.
Swan. Please. I'm worried. ~E
When the three dots appear on the bottom of the screen, my breath catches in my throat.
Sorry. I'm okay. I woke up like 10 min ago. ~B
I lean against her doorframe, taking in a deep breath, when the door starts to open, and there she is. Freshly showered, her hair dripping while she runs a comb through it. A light pink T-shirt and tiny gray shorts cover her minimally.
"Hey," she says, looking down at her phone. "I'm sorry I didn't reply sooner. I was sick all morning and then passed out."
"Are you feeling better?" I ask, still leaning on her door, needing the support. I'm beat. The day. Last night. Everything catching up with me.
"Yeah," she says without gazing up at me yet. "I'm never drinking again. Knowingly, or not." When she looks up, her eyes are a little red and there's no smile for me. Instead, she frowns. "Are you okay?"
I don't know what overcomes me, but my arms envelop her in a hug. It's a friendly hug. Because friends hug and that's okay. That's allowed.
"I'm giving private lessons to Coach's niece," I blurt out. I think my brain is having a short circuit. Now that I see she's okay, I'm relieved but it's also like my body is realizing that it's been running on fumes.
"To Sammy?" she asks, but I don't know what that means. "Jesus, come here." She pulls me inside, and the next thing I know, I'm on her bed and she's fixing her pillows under me. The pillows smell like her. Her whole room smells like her. I think my eyes are closed already. "Sleep," she says, so I do just that.
~.~.~
Everything is pitch black when I wake up, and for a moment, I think I'm in my room. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I realize I'm in Bella's instead. Her presence is, literally, everywhere—entangled with me. One of her legs is hitched over mine, her arm is across my chest, and her head is on my shoulder.
It's not just her though. My arm is also looped under her, and my fingers are buried in her hair. My whole body is angled toward her. It seems my subconscious self is unable to resist her. I try to sneak my arm out, but she stirs awake.
"I'm sorry," I whisper as she opens her eyes. "I should go."
"Why?" She frowns, rubbing her eyes with her fingers.
I don't know if maybe this crosses a line. If it's too much. Or too close. "I don't know," is what I tell her, pulling my arm from under her neck.
"Were you uncomfortable?" She sits up and stretches her arms over her head. I have to look away as her shirt rises over her midsection, exposing her stomach.
"No," I say honestly, realizing she's right at the edge of the bed, taking almost no space at all, leaving the majority of the twin bed for me. I scrub my face with my hand as I sit up. It actually felt fucking amazing having her nestled next to me. The two times I've slept on her bed have been the best sleep I've gotten since moving here.
Except maybe yesterday when she slept on my bed.
"Then what is it?" She gazes at me worriedly, her teeth trapping her bottom lip. I can tell she's tired, her eyes are puffy with sleep.
"I don't know if it's a good idea." I scratch my neck nervously.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," she says quickly, and the words just spill from her mouth into a string. "I promise it won't happen again. Making a move on you, or whatever. I get it, okay? We're teammates. Partners. Let's focus on that."
I take a deep breath while she twists her hands nervously, making me want to grab them in mine.
"I do want to be your friend, though." She looks up, her eyes the kind of beautiful that breaks you in two. "I really enjoy spending time with you. You're the best person I know here. Home. Everywhere. I don't want to mess this up, okay? I'm really sorry."
"Swan—"
"I know, it looks bad that I got in bed with you…again," she adds, embarrassedly. "But It was maybe five o'clock when you passed out. I thought you'd take a nap and then we could talk, but then around midnight, I got sleepy too. I didn't want to wake you up because you really do need to sleep. So, I thought it'd be okay if I just got in here with you. No ulterior motive, I promise."
"Bella," I say through a sigh, while she hugs her knees to herself. Then I just decide to be honest with her. "I do feel something with you too." My eyes train on hers, wondering if she remembers her words from last night. Judging by the smile that spreads on her face, she does. "And I love every second we spend together. Honestly, it's my favorite part of being here."
"I feel like there's a but coming," she says playfully and I don't even try to fight my smile off.
"You're right, though, we are teammates and partners and I have so much on the line. I don't want to mess this up either."
"Okay." She smiles genuinely, going easy on me. "Friendly sleepover, then?" She pats the bed, right between our legs, so casually that I wonder if she truly knows what that would do to me.
I play it down. I breathe out of my nose in a chuckle, shaking my head as if she's joking, even though I don't think she is. Before I can say anything else though, my stomach growls. Loudly.
"Are you hungry?" She giggles, glancing up at me, while I clasp a hand over my stomach.
I nod because I am fucking starving. I had a quick lunch after work, before training with Jasper, then came straight here. Just thinking about it makes my stomach growl again.
She reaches and grabs her phone off her nightstand, turning her lamp on while I pull my phone from my pocket. It's two in the morning. Everything would be closed.
"I doubt we'll find anything open right now," she echoes my thoughts. "I have some cereal and protein bars...oh, and watermelon."
"What kind of cereal?" I smile tentatively, and her lips stretch into a grin as she leaves the bed. She comes back with two bowls—one hot pink, one neon green—and a box of Special K. I grimace.
"Sorry…" She chuckles. "That's the only one I have." She hands me the box first, and I pour a bowl full, before passing it back to her and she then sprinkles a few into her bowl. When she picks a flake between her fingers and eats it dry, I look at her in confusion. "Oh…" Her laugh is shy. "I don't really drink milk."
"You eat your cereal dry?"
"Yeah," she admits embarrassedly. "I like it better that way. Any wet, soggy thing…I don't..."
"What a weirdo." I'm laughing then, grabbing a fistful of cereal and dropping it in my mouth. It tastes like cardboard, but I guess it's better than nothing. "What about oatmeal?" I ask after swallowing.
"I hate oatmeal." She makes a gagging face in emphasis.
"Nothing soggy. Got it." I lift a hand in pretend surrender and she shakes her head, looking down at her bowl and picking another flake between her fingers.
We eat mostly in silence, only the crunching of cereal filling the air. I finish the bowl and eat two of her granola bars. I'm still hungry but I'm embarrassed to ask her for more food.
"Are you nervous about trials?" I ask as she hands me a water bottle. She nods, which takes me by surprise. "Why? You're the best flyer on the squad, Swan, by far. There's no way you don't make the A Team."
"I still want to do well. No one has a secure spot." She shrugs, taking a sip of her water.
"Do you think she'll pair the two of us? Or will we switch between partners like yesterday?"
"I don't know. I hope she'll pair us." She smiles sweetly. "You make me look good."
"That's all you," I say before I can help myself. "I should probably let you sleep." I scoot off of her bed, stifling a hiss as my thighs cramp.
"All right." She follows behind me until we're at her door. "Do you work tomorrow? Or today, I guess."
"Yeah…" I pull at my neck, giving my hands something to do. "But I'm off Monday and Tuesday, so I can focus on trials."
She smiles, resting her cheek over the hand that's clasped on the door. She looks up at me and a little yawn escapes from her lips. "That's good."
My fingers itch to touch her, to hug her, to brush back the hair that is hanging around her face. She's tired and snuggly and the last thing I want to do is leave. "Get some rest, Swan," I say softly, sticking my hands in my pockets, just in case. "I'm sorry for crashing on your bed."
"No worries," she says, half smiling at me before disappearing behind her door.
I go back to my room with an uneasy feeling in my stomach, because yes, the topic of our almost kiss has been addressed, and yes she seems okay with being just friends, but, fuck, I wanted to stay so bad. To hold her in my arms as she fell back asleep. To let her rest just as she did for me earlier.
The truth is what I want doesn't matter, shouldn't matter. Keeping myself from falling for her is turning into this impossible task—one that seems thoroughly unachievable; one that goes against everything in me; one that I know, in time, I will inevitably fail.