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Fran, Mr G and Me and Monica03, thank you so much for your help with this story, your thoughts on the chapters and all of your input. You're all amazing! (And any mistakes you see are my own!)
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"Don't forget, those projects are due tomorrow!" the teacher calls out as everyone hurries out of the class. I roll my eyes at the worried squeaks from my classmates; they act like we haven't had all the time in the world to complete this thing.
Frankly, I'm glad this project is almost done. It means I'll no longer have to interact with Edward.
Speak of the devil, he passes by my seat, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Tapping my fingers on the desk, I wait for him to say something as he falters, his eyes locked in on my lips.
It doesn't take a genius to know what he's thinking about … and unfortunately, I find myself in the same situation.
As much as I want to forget it ever happened, my subconscious isn't as keen on the idea as I am. Last night, my dreams were filled with all kinds of kisses; rough bruising kisses and sweet, gentle kisses … all of them starring Edward.
I even woke up this morning, and my first thought was how swollen and tender my lips felt … and how much I liked it. What was more disturbing was the feeling of happiness I had felt at the thought of Edward and me kissing.
It's downright frustrating; there's no way we're compatible. Well, technically speaking, we are, but other than pissing each other off and giving in to our hormones, we'll never work.
Immediately, I stop that line of thinking. Why am I thinking about anything other than being classmates with Edward?
Nothing like that will ever happen between us, I'm sure of it.
The sound of loud giggles jolts me out of my thoughts, and I jump slightly, noticing Edward do the same. He bows his head, gently shaking it as his gaze drops down to the table.
"Here's the project and the presentation. Take a look at it and let me know if it looks okay."
He slides a DVD across the desk then swiftly pulls his hand back, shoving it in his pocket. Inside, my stomach twists, and a short, bitter laugh escapes me. Rolling my eyes, I toss the items in my binder.
"A little late to be worried about cooties, isn't it?" I remark with a raised eyebrow. "You've already had your tongue in my mouth."
I collect my things and breeze out of the classroom, into the crowded hall. Suddenly, he's beside me, his hand cupping my elbow and turning me around to face him.
That familiar pleasurable shiver races through me, as his cool skin comes in contact with my warm flesh, igniting my blood and sending my heart into overdrive.
Stupid hormones.
Yanking my arm away, I take a step back, wanting as much space between us as possible. His eyebrows raise in surprise as he raises his hands in the air, feigning surrender. For what, I have no clue. It's not as if he's genuinely scared of me, the jerk.
"What's your problem?"
"The same one you have," I mutter pointedly through tight lips.
Annoyance flashes across his face and he sighs heavily, about to respond, but the growing crowd of curious students around us draws his attention away from me. They form a loose circle around us, their mouths open mid-gasp, their eyes wide and bouncing between us like they're watching tennis. Not feeling up to an audience, with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw, I turn my attention to them.
"Is there a problem?"
Most of the students in the small group shake their heads, but one brave soul swallows past his fear and speaks up.
"Are you two going to kill each other?" He looks like he's going to foam at the mouth at the prospect and it amazes me how bored they must be to want two people they don't know to fight.
"You mean you can see him too?" I question in astonishment as I point to Edward. A look of surprise flashes across his face momentarily before falling into one of amusement.
Confused, the student nods, looking between the two of us warily.
"Oh, thank goodness!" I exclaim, pumping my hands in the air before sighing with relief. "I thought I was seeing things again."
"Do you … see things a lot?" he fearfully asks.
"I'll tell you what I see. I see a bunch of people who should mind their own business," Edward snaps with a growl. "Get lost."
They all scatter like roaches, the sound of their rushed footsteps filling the nearly empty hall.
I would never admit this, but I'm a little impressed with the way they all fled. It took me months of talking to myself and beating up Royce to get that effect on my peers.
He mumbles something under his breath, but I don't ask for clarification. I don't see it being worth my time.
"I wanted to talk to you. To explain about yesterday."
"Oh? And what do you have to say about yesterday?"
For the longest moment, he's silent, his eyes boring into mine. He leans against the row of lockers next to us, one hand knocking lightly against the metal. My fingernails tap against the plastic surface of my binder, waiting for his response, but nothing comes.
He continues to stare, his hand moving closer to me as he thinks. When his hand is close enough, he reaches out and gently combs through my hair hanging over my shoulder, his fingers delicately playing with the strands.
A pleasurable thrill shoots through me at the trivial action, why I don't know.
Unconsciously, I find myself leaning toward him, wanting to feel more contact, and he doesn't disappoint. With each pass, his fingertips gently brush against my shoulder.
I close my eyes and sigh lightly, ignoring the nagging feeling warring within me. Something is telling me I shouldn't be this close, but at the moment, I can't think of a single reason why.
A slamming of a locker down the hall breaks me out of my trance, and the reasons why I shouldn't, come flooding back. Shaking my head, I take a step back as I silently curse myself for being so easily swayed.
"If you're not going to say something, I need to get going. I actually have to focus on school."
"Wait," he says, stepping in front of me. He holds a hand out and looks as if he's going to reach for me, but he drops it back down at his side limply. "Look, about yesterday, in my car—"he breaks off in a heavy sigh, shoving a hand in his hair and pulling at the roots. "That kiss was … it shouldn't have happened."
A wave of heat rises from my chest to my hairline, and I clear my throat, forcing a laugh through my embarrassment.
I had known nothing would ever come of yesterday, that it was just a one-time thing, so why do I feel this way? I mean, this is Edward Cullen for heaven sakes. He and I will never get along, despite what's happened in the past. It's obvious those times were simply a fluke, and we'll never be anything other than classmates and our sibling's weird friend.
Sure, there might be attraction there, but we're both hormone-fueled teenagers with inferno level tempers that sometimes ignite too hot. There's bound to be an explosion every so often, especially when we're left alone in confined spaces.
The easiest solution to that is to just not be alone with him anymore. Problem solved.
"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, though. You don't have to worry about it happening again."
"No, Bella, I—"
Without another word, I step around him, heading to my locker for my next class. I quickly make the exchange for the items I need, hoping I'm not late, all the while cursing Edward's existence
Why did he have to move here? Why does he affect me like this? Jerk!
"Hey," I hear a deep voice to my right. Looking over, I see Mike Newton stalking up to me, his eyes narrowed and lips pursed as if he's sucking on a lemon.
Which is, quite frankly, needed after dating Lauren. He needs all the disinfectant he can get.
"What?"
"You're going to do two things, you hear me? You're gonna stop whatever mojo you're doing. She thinks you've cursed her. You're going to say there's no such thing as curses and that you were just messing around."
Unable to help myself, I snort. "Really? She's still paranoid, huh?"
He nods once. "It's driving me crazy," he mutters. "She thinks every little bad thing that happens is from you."
I cackle, pretty pleased with myself for driving her so crazy. It's what she deserves.
"It's not funny," he fumes. "Fix it. And then, you're gonna talk to the principal and get Lauren back in school."
"Ha! Yeah, sure, Fido." I roll my eyes, still chuckling.
He frowns, taking a deep a breath. I watch in amusement as he stands taller, his chest puffed like an aggressive bird.
"You're going to do it, or else."
Theatrically, I widen my eyes, placing a hand over my mouth in mock fright. "Oh, I'm terrified. I'll get right on that," I sarcastically reply. "Look, Lauren's expulsion was her own doing. Now, she has to face the consequences. But don't worry; I'm sure she's not alone, pining for you. I'm sure one of her many boy toys is keeping her occupied."
Before I'm done speaking, Mike is rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Lauren wouldn't cheat on me. She loves me."
I laugh and quickly bite my lip to contain the sound. "I feel sad you think that … genuinely sad. I saw her with someone in Port Angeles quite recently … and that guy was not you. She was all over him like a cheap slut."
Mike's eyebrow furrow together and his mouth drops open slightly as he processes this information. For a moment, I do feel honest sympathy for him, but it's over just as quickly as it comes. In my opinion, he should have known better.
He had seen with her Royce and his friends, rubbing all over them and sending them coy, flirtatious smiles right in front of him. Add in the fact that she had cheated to be with him in the first place; well, as my Gran says, a leopard doesn't change its spots.
"You're lying because you're a vicious, jealous bitch," he spits. "And if you don't do as I say, then I'll make your life a living hell. Or better yet, maybe I'll hit you where it hurts; starting with Jessica."
My eyes narrow and I take a step forward, watching with amusement as he backs into the lockers, his head bouncing off the metal.
"Let me tell you something, Newton. If you touch, look at, think about, or breathe in Jessica's direction, you will deal with me. You think you've seen me angry?" I chuckle darkly, shaking my head. "You haven't. Not truly, utterly, and completely angry; and believe me, you won't like me when you do."
His laughter is choked as his eyes dart around, looking for a way out. Beads of perspiration appear on his forehead and upper lip, and he tugs the collar of his soccer jersey, swallowing audibly.
"Who are you? The Hulk?"
"No. I'm much worse. Stay away from her; this is your only warning, and it's final. Don't test me, asshole."
For a moment, I stand there, staring at him unblinkingly. When I can no longer take the smell of starched cotton and the BO he's producing, I step back, walking away without a second glance.
I'm almost to the end of the hall when his voice rings out again.
"I saw Rosalie today. I guess everything Lauren said was true, huh? About being Royce's sloppy seconds? Too bad; she was pretty. That makeup, though? Yikes. Not a very good job, in my opinion. Tell her to watch some tutorials; or better yet, Lauren can call her and give her some tips. Maybe then she'll be decent enough to look at. Who knows, maybe I'll even see what the hype is about."
Slowly I turn, my eyes zeroed in on Mike smirking.
"I mean," he continues, "I suppose she could still be useful, right? At least she's broken in now."
Faster than I ever thought I could move, I'm charging down the hall, delighting in the way Mike's face changes from the sneering smirk to pure fear.
Balling my hand into a fist, I raise it, ready to strike, but someone grabs me from behind.
"Easy there, Swan."
Looking up over my shoulder, I see Coach Clapp standing behind me, glaring in Mike's direction. Behind him, I see Edward standing there, glaring at the back of Coach's head.
"What's going on here?" Coach Clapp demands, releasing me once I drop my hand.
Immediately, Mike points in my direction. "She's psycho! She was going to attack me!"
"Huh," the coach muses, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "No, I don't think so. What I saw was completely different. I saw you bothering Miss Swan and threatening two students."
Mike gapes, rapidly shaking his head and sputtering a defense, but Coach Clapp is having none of it. He simply points ahead and spins Mike around.
"Don't wanna hear it, Newton. If I were you, I'd keep my mouth shut; you're in deep enough as it is and this latest incident just added to the pile. You're going to the principal. Get to class, Swan!" Coach calls over his shoulder.
I watch Mike get escorted to the principal's office and give him a big smile before flipping him off just before he rounds the corner, his head turning to send me one, last, withering glare.
The bell rings, signaling the beginning of a new period, but there's no way I'll be able to concentrate. Not when my anger is still high and simmering just beneath the surface. I have a small amount of satisfaction that Mike will be in heaps of trouble for what he did, thanks to Coach Clapp, but I can't be around other people right now.
Edward, I notice, is still standing silently by, watching me closely.
Not saying a word, I head in the opposite direction of where I'm supposed to be, easily finding an empty classroom and stepping inside. Placing my books, down, I lean over the desk, my hands gripping the sides tightly. I wish I could get away with picking this up and tossing it across the room.
Maybe then I would feel a little better.
The anger I feel toward Mike's callousness for Rose is beyond anything I have ever felt. I don't, for the life of me, understand how he can be so cold and mean. It's obvious to anyone looking at Rose that she's struggling, so what's the point in being so heartless?
Oh, right. I forgot; he's a sheep, following a bitch.
What a bastard.
The sound the door clicking snaps me to attention, and I scramble for an excuse as to why I'm here and not in class. I relax a little as I see Edward standing there, watching me carefully.
I scowl in his direction, not in the mood for anything he's going dish out right now. "What do you want?"
He takes a small step toward me, stopping a few feet away. His hand twitches in my direction, but he refrains himself from touching me. "You okay?"
"Fine, obviously." I wait for him to say something, but after a minute passes, it's obvious he's not going to. I turn and sit on the desk, crossing my arms over my chest. "What did you follow me in here for?"
"I … wanted to check on you."
Warily, I eye him, noting how his eyes are moving from my eyes to my lips constantly. "Why?"
A puzzled look comes across his face as he runs a hand through his hair and leans against the wall. "I don't know."
Unable to help myself, I laugh. "You don't know why you're feeling emotions, or why you're feeling one for me?"
He nods, but I'm unsure as to what question he's responding to.
"Which one is it?"
"You're good person," he says instead, his voice soft. "You're a little rough around the edges, sure. We all are. But you're a good person."
"Well, thanks. I think," I reply, puzzled. "Why are you telling me this?"
"You do infuriate me, but not for the reasons you think. Sure, you're stubborn and abrasive at times, but you're … enjoyable to be around. You know, when you're not bitching."
I grin broadly. "Or being a bitch? I think so too. I'm glad you came around to the dark side."
Laughing lightly, he leans against a desk, his eyes trained on the blackboard. "You assumed I regretted the kiss we had and I do, but not in the way you think," he rushes to explain. "I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I should have asked."
"Well, technically, you did pause before you kissed me. I had plenty of time to back away."
A skeptical look crosses his face before he nods. "Fair enough." He pauses, and his next words are thoughtful, with a teasing tone laced over a syllable. "If I remember correctly, and I do, you kissed me back."
"Don't get cocky," I tell him, trying to ignore the fluttering in my belly and the heat rising up to my face as I think about just how I kissed him back. "It was in retaliation for what you started. I couldn't let you get away with kissing me. I had to even the playing field, didn't I?"
"Sure," he says with a laugh. "Is that all it was? Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm sure, Mr. Conceited. Trust me, I've had better kisses. The kiss we had was all right. Nothing to think twice about."
I fight like hell to keep my face impassive, hoping he doesn't see through my blatant lie.
"What a coincidence; so have I." His tone is innocent, but I can see the anger brewing in his eyes. "Since it was such a disappointment, I suppose we can just forget about it."
"Yeah, it's already erased from my memory," I tell him, lying through my teeth. I don't want him to know just how affected I am by him. I can't let him have that much power.
"Why did you kiss me?"
His lips purse as he thinks, a glimmering look of teasing in his eye. "I had to distract you somehow."
"From what? You mean chewing you out … and what makes Alice so … special?"
Raising a challenging eyebrow, he gives me a hard stare that says more than words ever could. I'm a little insulted he would think I would say anything about it, but I understand. I would be the same way if I were in his shoes.
"Relax. I don't know anything concrete … yet. And even if I did, I wouldn't say anything. Alice is a good person and a great friend. Hurting her is not an option for me. You, on the other hand …"
Instead of being pissed or annoyed, he simply chuckles, shaking his head. He steps away from the desk and toward the door, looking at me over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I'll be fine once you stop stalking me." I soften my words with a grin and a wink.
"If you need to talk to someone," he begins unsure. I hold my breath, wondering if he's going to offer what I think he is. "Alice can help," he rushes out.
"Of course," I reply, forcing a smile on my face.
A confusing wave of disappointment flares through me as he walks out, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Why the hell do I feel this way?
Edward and I would never work, I know this. We're too different, and we fight too much, so why do I feel so upset at his blasé attitude?
Maybe Royce knocked a few screws loose when he attacked me.
Maybe it's the restless sleep I've been getting.
Or maybe, I'm simply insane.
I just need to take a page out of his book and forget about it before I drive myself crazier than I already am.
8*8*8*8
"Are you okay?" Alice says immediately as she meets me at my locker in the late afternoon.
"Fine. Why?"
"Edward told me he was giving you something for your project. I wanted to make sure he didn't piss you off. He was acting weird about it this morning."
"How can you tell?" I tease, trying to imagine Edward nervous. I want to picture it, but I can't seem to make it work. The two just don't go together. "He didn't piss me off any more than usual," I say, keeping my expression schooled.
She nods, and her eyes light up as she bounces lightly on her toes. "Did you hear? Mike could be expelled too! Apparently, he's been bullying students, and today he threatened someone. There's also a rumor he's been cheating on all of his homework and tests. Supposedly, there's a ton of evidence to back it up, but everything is very hush-hush right now."
Chuckling, I idly wonder if the evidence of cheating came from Tyler; he did say Mike and Lauren would pay. I wonder if he had any hand in Mike's 'heap of trouble' Coach Clapp alluded to, not to mention helping along Lauren's expulsion.
"Good. He deserves it, especially for what he said earlier," I mumble, but Alice hears me clearly.
"What happened? What did he say?" she asks, her eyebrows drawing together in concern.
I give her the condensed version, not wanting to get worked up again, and by the time I'm done Alice looks like she's ready to hunt him down.
She hisses something I can't hear, but I catch snippets of what sounds like orange jumpsuits.
Quirking an eyebrow, I wonder why on earth she would mention something like that.
Catching my inquisitive look, she winces and smiles sheepishly, turning away. I tap her on the shoulder, ready to put her mind at ease, but suddenly Alice straightens her hunched posture, her face brightening.
Looking up, I see the reason why.
Jasper walks up, giving me the stink eye, sparing Alice a small grin before returning his glare to me.
"What's his problem?" Alice mutters to me, her tone puzzled.
Unable to help myself, I loudly chuckle.
This morning, Jasper had noticed my flushed face and started teasing me about the kinds of dreams I might have had to warrant such a reaction. He was scarily close, and I couldn't let him know that, otherwise, he would never let it die. In order to distract him, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind, which is his greatest fear: clowns.
He paled and shut up after that, thankfully.
"You're still upset?"
"It wasn't funny," he hisses. "I'll have nightmares now. You know how much I hate those beasts."
"Oh come on, lighten up. I would never let any clowns get you."
"You suck."
"I love you too."
Finally, he cracks a grin and chuckles. "You're messed up."
"Of course I am."
Down the hall, I catch sight of Rose, her blonde hair flowing behind her as she makes her way toward us. Her makeup has been wiped off, leaving her skin clear and pink. Her hair has lost some of its curl from this morning, but overall, she looks the same as she did when she came into the kitchen, dressed in baggy jeans and her too-big T-shirt.
We all knew it was her defense mechanism; it's similar to what she did after Royce attacked her, sans the makeup.
I don't fully understand it, but I don't have to. I just have to be here when Rose needs me.
As Rose approaches, I immediately notice her puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and blotchy skin that only happens when she's been crying. I start to ask her if she's okay, but she shakes her head, looking over her shoulder as Emmett follows behind her a few steps.
I straighten, watching him as he nods to Jasper and steps toward me, his eyes glued to the floor.
"Bella, can I have a moment, please?"
We step away from the others and stand in awkward silence. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rose watching us closely, looking ready to step in if she needs to.
"I'm sorry for what I said," Emmett begins, his tone contrite. "You weren't to blame for Royce's actions, I know that. I just … acted like a jackass, basically. I know, I'm sorry, isn't sufficient enough for what I said and how I made you feel. I just hope you can forgive me one day … and it doesn't have to be soon. Make me sweat it out a little. I deserve it."
"Is this because of—"I start to ask, looking toward Rose.
Emmett, however, is quick to refute. "No!" He practically shouts, shaking his head rapidly. "You're owed this apology. You didn't anything wrong; I swear it."
Lightly, I chuckle. "Good to know ... and I understand your reaction. It was a stressful situation, and you needed an outlet for your anger. I don't appreciate being your punching bag, but I understand." I give him a meaningful look while nodding over to Rose. "She was hurt; trust me, you didn't say anything I wasn't thinking."
He frowns deeply, shaking his head. "It's no excuse. I was worried, but it wasn't your fault, and I shouldn't have implied it was. I'm a jerk. I'm truly sorry; I'm going to work on thinking before I speak from now on."
Not wanting to argue, I nod. "It's in the past. Let's leave it there."
Emmett gives a small smile and waves toward Jasper as he heads out, walking past Rose with a quick but meaningful glance. Rose ducks her head, hiding behind her hair and looking up as I step toward her.
"What was that about?"
She jerks a shoulder upward, lightly shaking her head. "It's nothing." She mumbles something too low for me to hear and steps away. "I'm going out to the car."
Without waiting for our reply, she's gone, her retreat quick. Jasper and I exchange confused looks but don't say anything more. I know Rose is going to be feeling off for a while and I know Jasper and I will keep an eye on her, just in case she needs us.
Outside, Alice waves excitedly at Angela. "Angela! Over here!"
As soon as Angela is in front of us, Alice hands her an envelope. "Here. For Jess' fundraiser."
"Wow! You sure raised that quickly!"
"I had some savings, and my parents chipped in, too; they were happy to help."
"Thank you so much, Alice." Angela smiles sweetly.
Alice responds in kind. "Anything for Jess."
Angela places the envelope in her backpack, promising to give it to her father as soon as she gets home. While they discuss the fundraiser, my phone buzzes inside my bag. When I retrieve it, Arthur's name flashes across the screen.
Hey, Bella, I know you're probably busy with school right now, but I was wondering if you'd like to meet up for coffee in Port Angeles sometime? Strictly platonic, of course … or something. Whatever you want. If not, that's okay. I won't be offended or anything.
Smiling at his awkward text, I respond back quickly, telling him I'll meet up with him this afternoon if he's up for it. I'm heading to Port Angeles today anyway.
"Who is that?" Alice tries to sneak a peek at my phone, but I put it back in my pocket before she can read anything.
"Just a friend."
"Is it a guy? Ooh-La-la!"
At that moment, Edward walks by, his shoulders stiff and his jaw taut. He looks as if he could breathe fire right now and honestly, it seems if he wants to, especially as his head turns slightly in my direction, his eyes a dark onyx that makes me shudder slightly.
Pushing away the feeling, I meet his harsh look with one of my own, daring him to say something and wondering why the hell he's upset now.
From the way his behavior changes from one extreme to another, I have a good mind to say something to his father, but chances are, he already knows.
Or at least I hope he does.
"What's his problem?" Angela mutters, her elbow lightly touching my forearm.
"It could be anything," I snort.
Angela looks between us, her eyes shining with amusement and taking on a knowing glint. Silently, she mouths an "oh," in an exaggerated manner, nodding slowly and sucking in her bottom lip to control the chuckling bubbling from her chest.
Before I can ask what she finds so amusing, Alice pulls my attention to her pitifully upset face.
"Bella, you're not telling me anything!"
"Because I already told you everything you need to know. I received a text from a friend. Anything other than that is my business. No offense."
She pouts, clearly not satisfied with my answer.
"Your face will freeze that way," I tell her, poking her protruding lip.
Angela laughs. "That's what my mother told us whenever we used to pout."
"It's probably true. It had to happen to someone, right?"
"Probably," Angela muses. "Well, I have to go. I have a ton of homework to do. See you later, guys!"
We wave goodbye, and Alice turns to me, an air of excitement shining in her eyes. "Hey, let's have a girls' afternoon. You, me and Rosalie. It could be good for her. What do you say?"
"I'm sorry, I can't this afternoon. I'm going to Port Angeles."
Alice starts to argue but is halted by Jasper. "What's in Port Angeles?"
"I need to pick up some things," I reply, walking to the car. I slow my steps as I see Rose isn't alone; she's talking to Emmett, and if the frowns on both of their faces are anything to go by, their conversation isn't going well.
"I don't think that's a good idea," Jasper argues, oblivious to the scene ahead. "Not with the disappearances happening."
"I'll be fine. I have to go."
"Why?"
"Reasons."
He shakes his head, displeased with my response. I roll my eyes at him. I know he's concerned about my welfare, but I won't be doing anything stupid today.
Edward's car races up in front of us, and as he comes to a sudden stop, the brakes screech loudly, scaring the hell out of me.
"What is wrong with you?" I shout, my heart hammering away in my throat. "You could have run me over! If I had died, I would have been so pissed. And make no mistake, if you kill me, I will haunt you."
"You're insane. I wouldn't have run you over," he says, rolling his eyes. "Alice, let's go."
Defiantly, she stares at him as she snarls, "Get lost."
I blink in surprise at her harsh tone, never having heard her speak so abrasively to him. In the past, she's shown her displeasure for one thing or another, but she's never been this harsh.
"Alice." His voice is an exasperated sigh, and he says nothing more. Leaning toward the passenger side window, he waves her over. With a huff, Alice leans a forearm against the edge of the window, her head sticking inside the car.
Immediately, they begin conversing in a quick murmur, their voices no louder than a buzz.
Jasper gives me an inquisitive look, nodding toward the pair.
"What happened?" he mouths.
Shrugging a shoulder, I make a face because I have no clue as to why they're fighting.
Out of nowhere, Alice jumps up from her slouched position and turns around to face us, a strained smile on her face.
"I can't stay—there's somewhere I need to be. I'll see you later, okay? Don't—" she pauses looking worriedly at Jasper. "Be safe in Port Angeles."
I nod, having a feeling her words are more than the customary goodbye. "Of course."
Blowing out a heavy breath, she briefly closes her eyes, massaging her temples. In the driver's seat, Edward murmurs something, and she nods, her head moving in a jerky movement, making it appear as if it's not attached to her neck.
When she opens her eyes, they're filled with worry. Her gaze flits between Jasper and me, lingering on me for longer than I'd like.
Jasper looks between Alice and me, his palms swiping up and down his jeans. Taking one step forward, he stops as Alice smiles sweetly, her hand raised toward him, as if she's going to grasp it, but she drops it at the last moment.
"I'll see you later. Bye, guys."
Rubbing the back of his neck, he gives a small smile and a wave, looking toward me with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrow.
Edward starts to say something, but snaps his mouth shut, tapping his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel. Shaking his head, the next tap against the steering wheel is hard, his palm smacking against the thin column.
The engine of his car roars and his tires squeal as he tears out of the full parking lot, leaving behind a trail of astonished faces.
"What the hell was that about?"
My stomach tightens, and a wave of uneasiness falls over me. I think whatever it was, it can't be very good. Nervously, I look toward my cousin and shake my head, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat.
"I don't know," I reply. "Let's get going."
Rose glares as we get in the car, saying nothing. She revs the engine and peels out of the parking lot, her knuckles white as she tightly grips the wheel. Jasper turns to look at me, mouthing, what's wrong with her? I shake my head, staring worriedly at the back of her head.
Deciding to take the first step, Jasper cautiously asks what happened.
"Nothing," she snaps. "Leave me alone."
"Hey," I say, coming to his defense. "No need to be so pissy. He just asked a question."
"And I just answered it. I want some peace and quiet."
My eyebrows rise high on my forehead as I exchange a look with Jasper. He shrugs and sighs heavily, turning to stare out the window. In the past, Rose has been angry with us but never without a reason. I'm tempted to ask her why she's in such a foul mood all of a sudden, but one look at her pinched face tells me that if I value my life, I'll restrict my words toward her.
At the house, Rose forcefully pulls the keys out of the ignition and stomps inside. My mother comes out of the living room, her eyes wide as she looks from Jasper and me to where Rose just disappeared.
"Rosalie?" my mother questions before Jasper and I can dissuade her.
"I want to be left alone!" she shouts before slamming her door, the action of it rattling the pictures on the wall.
"Rosalie, we do not slam doors in this house!" Mom admonishes. She gets no response and sighs heavily, looking to back to the two of us. "What was that about? Did something happen at school?"
"She seemed upset by something earlier. I think it was Emmett, but she wouldn't talk about it," I reply. "I don't know what else it could be, unless someone said something to her, which I doubt. I mean, they're staring and whispering, which is the norm lately, but other than that," I lead off, shrugging. "Mike said something to me, but that was taken care of."
Mom and Jasper look at me curiously, and I quickly run through the events. By the time I'm done, they both look pissed.
"He and Lauren should have been swallowed," Mom grumbles.
A burst of surprised laughter leaves me as I look at her in astonishment. I've never heard her say something like that.
"What?" she replies innocently, looking between Jasper and me. "It's the truth."
Again, we laugh, and I'm distracted by Jasper's retelling of his day by my phone vibrating.
Taking a quick peek, I notice it's Arthur, telling me he'll see me soon outside the art gallery.
Quickly, I put my things away and grab my sketchbook, shoving it in my bag. On my way out, I pause by Rose's room, hearing muffled crying coming from within. My hand is immediately on the knob, but it doesn't turn, telling me it's locked.
Knocking tentatively, I place my ear against the cool surface of the wood. "Rose? You okay?"
"Go away." Her tone isn't forceful or angry, it's full of sadness and despair, which makes me want to go in all the more.
Seconds later, Mom's voice drifts up the stairs.
"Bella, come here."
I meet Mom at the bottom of the steps, and she wraps an arm around my shoulders, leading me into the kitchen. "Don't take it personally, baby. Right now, Rosalie is going through a lot. She's adjusting to the new attention, the fact that Royce is in jail and so much more."
"Will she be okay?"
"She'll be fine. Just give her some time."
I nod, feeling uneasy about letting Rose handle this by herself. If she wanted help, I know she'd ask for it, or at least let us help her, but right now, it doesn't feel right leaving her alone.
We're family. We should help each other.
"Do you have homework?"
Thankfully, most of mine is already done thanks to the substitute in one of my classes, and I happily relay this information. I do have to look over the presentation, but that can wait until tonight. It shouldn't take me too long.
Mom nods approvingly, looking at Jasper as he wanders in, heading for the fridge. "Jasper?"
"I have a few assignments," he begrudgingly admits. "But they're easy enough and not due right away."
"Don't forget to do them. School is important."
"I know."
Mom turns to me, smiling. "What are your afternoon plans? Oh! I know, we can do yoga together!"
She laughs at the barely contained grimace on my face.
"Sorry, Ma. I think I'm going to run into Port Angeles for some art stuff."
"I don't know about that, Bella," she says, wringing her hands together worriedly.
I know that she, like Jasper, is concerned about the disappearances around here, but I won't make the same mistakes I've made in the past. I'll remain in crowds, won't talk to strangers and won't go off anywhere by myself in isolated areas, and I tell her as much.
If I weren't doing this for Jessica, I wouldn't even bother to go, but since I'm hoping to sell one of my works for the fundraiser, I don't have a choice.
Mom doesn't look convinced by my conviction but eventually grants permission for me to go.
"I want you to call me when you get to Port Angeles and when you leave. I want you home before dinner. If you can't make it, call your father or me and let us know."
"I will. I'll be safe."
Mom nods and Jasper follows behind, looking unhappy. "I can come with you," he offers, "I still need to pick up a birthday present for you."
"I gave everyone a list a month ago. Waiting till the last minute, huh? I see how important I am to you," I tease.
My birthday is a couple of weeks away, which means the deadline to get something is soon approaching. If he truly hasn't gotten anything yet, I have a feeling he'll scramble for it the weekend before and I'll end up with a crow key chain from the gas station like the year before last.
Although, if I'm perfectly honestly that key chain was pretty cool. The battery that makes the small, plastic bird caw has long since died, but it's still pretty cool.
"I got your presents a month in advance, that's how much I care. Now, this will be forever imprinted in my memory, and when I'm old enough, I'll do whatever I can to numb this pain, which will effectively ruin my life. Are you happy, Jasper? Are you happy you ruined my life?" I continue to joke with a straight face.
Jasper rolls his eyes and shrugs, his cheeks pink. "I thought I'd have more time."
Mom clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "I think you should go with her. Just don't wander off into unknown areas, the both of you … and pick up a nice present," she says pointedly, knowing his affinity for whatever catches his eye.
He mumbles an agreement through a bite of the apple he's taken, and I grimace in disgust, displeased he's joining me.
"No, Mom, I can go—"
"Why waste the gas?" She cuts in. "Jasper's going with you."
Hearing her tone, I know there's no point in arguing. "Fine. Let's go."
Nearly an hour later, I'm in Port Angeles, standing in front of my destination, my hand slapping against my thigh and my left foot tapping against the concrete. Jasper had disappeared through the crowd five minutes ago, in search of my gift. He had questioned why I was here, but I didn't relent, giving him a BS reason about 'needing inspiration' for an art piece I'm working on.
Luckily, he seemed to buy it.
The Port Angeles Art Gallery stands before me, intimidating with its ground to ceiling glass walls, silver framed glass doors, and colorful artwork varying by artists, from abstracts to landscapes, surrounded by priceless statues that stand guard, confident in their timeless beauty.
Near the door hangs a sign; the reason I'm here in the first place.
It's a flyer, informing people of an upcoming art showcase for young artists, looking much like it did on the website. I've never had the desire to submit anything I've made before; they were simply for me, a way to release the pictures in my head and get out my excess creative energy.
Now, they have a new purpose, and I can only hope things will go according to plan.
Inside, it's cold and quiet, a stark contrast to the heat, humidity, and chaos just beyond the glass. Bright white walls and a dizzying array of paintings are hugged by thick, golden brown frames, highlighted under a single halo of light from the ceiling.
Some of the paintings are truly bizarre, but most, I must admit, are rather good. It makes me wonder if my stuff will ever be good enough for one of these places.
"May I help you?"
Turning, I see a woman in a crisp business suit with her dark hair in a tight bun on the crown of her head. I don't understand how some women can wear their hair like that without experiencing some major headaches. Hell, my head hurts just looking at a hairstyle like that.
"Hi. Are there still open spots for the showcase this weekend?"
She looks at me critically before answering. "Technically, it will be a showcase and an art fair. I believe there are a few spots open. Do you have any of your work with you?"
"I do." Digging through my bag, I open the book and hand it over. The woman studies each page carefully like it's an old artifact and not a sketchbook that cost five dollars. Once she's done, she nods once and hands it back.
"It's very good; the exact type of thing we're looking for."
"Thanks."
She walks to the window, where a small stack of papers sit on a table. "Here are the guidelines for the art fair. Bring your work early Saturday morning, around seven, at the corner of Broadway and Main. The fair lasts from eight to six in the evening. I hope you'll have something ready to go or you're a fast worker because you're cutting it awfully close."
My mind goes through the stacks of paintings I have in my closet and immediately, I know the one I'll be submitting. The blue, purple, and black splatter and random-shape design would be perfect, I think. It's my favorite one, but I can part with it.
I can always make another one.
"I have the perfect one already finished."
"Wonderful," she says, her smile not reaching her eyes. "You are aware that if someone likes your artwork, they will have an option to buy?"
"Yes." In fact, I'm kind of hoping for it.
"Good. Don't forget, early Saturday morning, we'll expect your artwork."
"I will. Thanks."
"You're welcome. Before you leave, what's your name? I have to write it down."
I hesitate, not wanting anyone to know about this. I'm just hoping I can go there, sell my painting, leave and deliver my earnings to Angela's father before anyone finds out. "Will this list be public?"
She shakes her head. "No. We don't list the artists; we just advertise the fair."
"Okay, that's good to know."
"Your name?" the woman questions again, her pen poised to write.
"Bella Swan."
She scribbles it down quickly and holds her hand out to me. I put my hand in hers and shake it lightly.
"I'm Megan Masters. I'm looking forward to seeing your work, Miss Swan. Have a good day."
I rush out of the gallery, feeling oddly excited. I never thought in a million years I'd be so willing to part with something I made, but I'm actually looking forward to doing this.
My only hope is that someone actually purchases it, so I can give the money to Angela's fundraiser for Jessica.
Looking around and checking the time, I note there's no sign of Arthur anywhere. Thinking he got caught up with something, I send him a text, and after ten minutes and still no sign or message from him, I try calling, only to have it ring seven times before going to voicemail. I deduce he must have changed his mind or something came up.
"You."
Snapping my head up, I see Lauren standing in front of me, glaring.
Heavily, I roll my eyes. "What do you want?"
"You got me kicked out of school!" she fumes, her face turning an odd shade of purple.
"As much as I'd like to take credit for that, I can't. You did that all on your own."
"I've had nothing but bad luck since I punched Jessica! You did something to me, I know it!"
Unable to help myself, I smirk. To be honest, I haven't done a single thing. I simply let her believe I did. Everything else came from her own imagination. "Did I now?"
"You did! You're some kind of witch, I swear! Take off your curse or whatever. Now!"
I laugh for a solid thirty seconds before controlling myself. "Be careful, Lauren. Haven't you learned by now not to threaten me?"
Her eyes widen, and her face pales before flooding with color. "I'll find a way to stop whatever you're doing, and when I do, you and that waste of air, Jessica— "
Without letting her finish her thought, I step forward. "Finish it. I dare you."
"I don't know why you care so much!" she snarls. "She deserves it! Just like Rosalie … by the way, how is she doing?"
"You're pathetic, you know that? Do you need to tear people down to make yourself feel better? Absolutely pathetic."
"You're the pathetic one! Now that your boyfriend has someone pining after him, capturing his attention, you have to make my life miserable?"
I roll my eyes. "For crying out loud, Jasper is my cousin," I say, tired of playing her games. "And secondly, I wish I could take credit for your miserable life, but that's all your doing."
"You're a lying sack of—"
"Lauren Anne Mallory," a deep voice snaps. She jumps, her face paling.
"Dad, I wasn't doing anything!"
"Enough! What are you even doing here? You were supposed to be in the car, on your way to Seattle!"
"Arthur was supposed to—"
"Just shut your mouth, young lady. I've had enough of your lies and excuses." It's then Mr. Mallory sees me. "Oh, Bella. Hello. I hope Lauren wasn't causing you any trouble."
"She was blaming me for getting her kicked out of school and trying to goad me about Rosalie."
Her father huffs and mumbles something under his breath, casting an apologetic look my way. He knows all about the history between Rose and Lauren, and it's obvious he feels terrible about it. I don't know why; he can't help that his daughter is evil.
"We must be going," he finally says. "Lauren's due somewhere important very soon."
"I'm not going!" she screams. "I did nothing wrong!"
Her father's face turns an odd shade of puce, and he grabs her arm. "It's your own fault, young lady! I gave you too many chances, and you screwed them up. Now, you're going to that detention center in Seattle! Maybe that'll be good for you! Now, I'm calling your cousin, and we're going!"
"Mr. Mallory?" I say before he can get too far. "Arthur was supposed to meet me in front of the art gallery earlier, but he never showed."
He nods, thanking me. "He was probably called away by my sister. Have a good night, Bella."
Mr. Mallory drags a screaming Lauren away, and I stand and watch, trying to process everything that's happened.
Mr. Mallory mentioned a detention center … could that be where the 'orange jumpsuit' comment from Alice came from?
Scraping my teeth against my bottom lip, I release a low whistle. The coincidences are getting harder and harder to ignore.
"Hello." I hear from behind me.
The owner of the voice has a thick French accent and instinctively, I turn when I hear it.
Instantly, I step back and narrow my eyes, feeling my heart beat a little faster and legs start to shake as I take in his bright, deep burgundy eyes staring at me appraisingly. He looks familiar, but I can't place where I've seen him.
"I am Laurent."
"Good for you. What do you want?"
He shakes his head, his deep, throaty laughter echoing off the brick. He looks down as he takes a small step forward, eying me through his thick lashes. I take a step back in response, wanting to put as much distance between us as I can.
"I'm afraid you will not like my answer," he says, chuckling once more, his lips curling over his pearly white teeth. The sight sends a shiver vibrating down my spine, and I swallow audibly, watching as his grin grows. "Why are you out here all alone? Are you lost? Abandoned?" His tongue clicks against the roof his mouth as he wags a finger before tapping against his lip. "No, that's not right. You've not been abandoned or misplaced. You're simply … in the wrong place, at the wrong time. Completely defenseless. What happened?"
Again, he steps toward me, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as his head tilts to the side, still grinning menacingly. My heart pounds away in my chest now, so loud I know he can hear it clear as a bell.
Despite feeling an overwhelming sense of doom, I swallow past my apprehension and square my shoulders. "None of your damn business, that's what."
"You have a fiery spirit. I like that." With each word he speaks, he takes a step toward me, forcing me to counteract with a backward step. "Maybe," he muses, watching me closely. "Maybe, you will be useful to me."
"It's great to know I can attract attention from people like yourself."
When he steps forward again, it's then I notice he's trying to back me into the alley beside the gallery and I'll be damned if I'll let that happen.
Instead of stepping backward, I take one toward him. Surprised, he jolts, his body straightening out of its slight crouch as he stares at me with glittering, wide ruby eyes.
Continuing forward, I try to breathe deeply, so my heart doesn't explode from my chest. Once I'm near the mouth of the alley, I breathe a sigh of relief as the sounds of people and traffic become louder.
Laurent stares at me in shock, not blinking or moving, his mouth slightly agape.
"You …"
"Well, what do we have here?" a new voice exclaims, breaking into whatever he was going to say. He comes up behind Laurent and slams a hand down on his shoulder, grinning at me.
Oh, shit. I'm definitely outnumbered here.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
I'm sorry updating isn't on a schedule yet. Things in RL are still hectic, but I'm hoping they'll calm down soon! (And I'll try to not keep you waiting very long for updates.)
Happy Holidays!