Edward pulls up outside of the cafe situated under Bella's Eastlake apartment building and texts her to let her know he's arrived.
Friday morning, due to a temporary lapse in judgment, he called to ask if she wanted to meet up in the afternoon on Sunday. They only have a class together on Mondays and Wednesdays, and that didn't seem adequate at the time. It still doesn't, but now he's extremely anxious about the plans.
He had hardly slept at all and instead spent most of the night trying to think of things they could do together while rearranging his expansive music collection.
Someone messed up his assortment of Victorian classical records while he was out, so he had no shortage of work to do. It's odd considering Emmett isn't supposed to move back in for another week. He's usually the only one who enjoys tormenting him by moving his things.
He wipes his palms on the new dark-wash jeans Alice made him wear and gets out of the car to briefly survey the surrounding neighborhood.
The nearby highway overpass and the single-pane windows on her building likely mean Bella has to put up with the obnoxious hum of traffic at all hours. He wouldn't be able to stand it. It's a wonder she gets any sleep.
On the plus side, the building does have a view of the lake, though not a good one. He wonders which direction her bedroom window faces.
Bella pops out of the secured-access door a few moments later wearing a simple oatmeal-colored hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. She's not carrying a purse with her and her hair's down in its usual slightly-wavy, natural state.
"I'm glad you wore something sensible," Edward greets with a laugh, walking around with her to the passenger side and opening the door for her.
She looks down at her outfit uncertainly. "What's wrong?"
"We match." He motions to his khaki bomber jacket and white t-shirt.
"Oh, we do." She smiles and gets into the car. "So where are we going?"
"Someplace I like to go when it's nice out. The Arboretum."
"Hm..." She sounds displeased. He's not sure with what, though.
He wonders if something is wrong with the location or with him. "Is that a problem?"
"I don't hike much. I'm not the most athletic person out there," she says.
He feels stupid for not remembering how accident-prone she is. She can barely handle the library stairs.
"It'll be okay. The trail isn't difficult," Edward explains. "Put on your seatbelt."
She raises a brow but complies.
He accelerates onto I-5 and looks over to try to gauge what she's thinking. She's staring out the side window and doesn't seem particularly excited.
"Did you tell your roommates we had plans?" he asks.
"No, I doubt they care."
It feels like someone just stabbed a dagger through his heart. They don't care. He wonders if she also doesn't care.
"We just met and I told you that I was following you around the last time we talked. You didn't think that it might be a good idea to tell your roommates where you were going and who you were with?"
"I didn't know where we were going," she says as if that somehow makes things better. "Did you tell Alice?"
"Of course I did." He leaves out the part about having Alice also choose his outfit, help him style his hair, and suggest which of the many potential date venues was the best option based on the weather forecast. "That's different, though. You should be more cautious around strangers."
"Sorry," she says, shooting him a doubtful look. "I didn't realize it mattered."
He can't help but wonder if their entire date doesn't even matter. Bella doesn't seem like the type to casually date anyone just to kill time.
He could be wrong, though. He could be one of her dozens...maybe hundreds...of dates that she discards in a week's time.
"Do you do this a lot?" he blurts out.
"What?"
Edward pinches the bridge of his nose, trying not to sound irritated or stupid. "Go on dates. Do you hang out with a lot of guys? Is that why you didn't bother telling your roommates we were hanging out?"
It doesn't sound great coming out of his mouth.
"No, I don't." She looks almost angry. He offended her. "And it's none of their business who I spend time with."
They drive in silence the rest of the way.
He's an idiot.
Before long they arrive at the visitor's lot of the Arboretum. He leads the way towards the trailhead, Bella hurrying behind him to keep up.
"You're going to have to be patient. Like I said before, I'm not good at hiking," she reminds him.
"Right, okay," he says, slowing and leading them into a wooded area away from the dirt path.
She slows her walking until she comes to a stop a few yards away. "We're going off-trail?" she questions.
"Yeah, don't worry, I won't get us lost. I come here all the time," he explains.
She doesn't look reassured in the slightest.
Edward feels his heart rate increase dramatically at her apparent rejection. "Do you want me to take you home?"
Bella bites her lip and shakes her head. "No, it's fine. I want to see what's so special about wherever it is you're taking me."
A tiny bit of relief washes over him and they continue walking into the trees.
They walk for about a half-hour through the wooded area before a clearing opens up in front of them.
It's finally starting to warm up outside, and a ray of sunshine breaks through the clouds, illuminating the grassy area covered in a variety of different species of wildflowers.
"Oh, wow," she says quietly, wandering out into the patches of daisies and honeysuckle.
"Do you like it? I come out here sometimes to listen to music or read. It's a good escape."
"Yeah, it's beautiful!"
"I'm glad," he says, following her out into the flowers. She turns and suddenly they're face-to-face much closer than they've ever been before. "I've never brought anyone out here before."
"Back in Forks I would sit in the woods and read sometimes, but it was never anything like this...this is like something out of a fairytale..."
Without thinking, he reaches up to push back a lock of dark brown hair that the wind caught and blew into her face.
She takes a deep breath and chews her lip, looking up at him with an expression he doesn't quite recognize.
"Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing," Edward backpedals, dropping his hand and stepping back away from her.
"That's okay," Bella takes a step toward him, her hands finding his and keeping him gently anchored. "I think we can...figure it out."
She tilts her chin up, leaning in, and Edward catches her lips with his.
With one kiss, his world feels like it's turned upside down.
He knows instantly that Bella is the one he's been waiting for all along.
...
Jasper sits on his bed in the dark, idly watching cars drive by on the street below his apartment.
Peter asked if he had wanted to go out with him and Charlotte earlier, but he doesn't feel like seeing anyone tonight.
It's a little after midnight when his phone rings.
He reads the familiar phone number off the screen and his heart sinks in his chest.
He answers, not wanting to put off the conversation any longer. "Maria."
"There's a voice I haven't heard in a while," Maria's honeyed words come through the phone, soft and sweet. "I thought maybe something happened to you. I even went by your old place the other day and you weren't there."
"I went with Peter and Charlotte to Seattle. I couldn't get into any of the other schools down in Texas after what happened."
"That's too bad. Well, I have a job for you if you want it. I could come up for a weekend, maybe, and we can talk about it."
"I don't think that's a very good idea."
"No hard drugs this time, okay? Nothing that will get you in too much trouble." She sounds as if she genuinely cares this time. "I want to see you again. It's been so long."
He has trouble trusting her words, despite the conviction behind them. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"
"Don't be like that, Jasper. We used to be so close. I thought we were friends."
"We were." His voice comes out strained.
"I was thinking the other day about the time we went to Vegas for the first time. Do you remember that? When you got so drunk you got us kicked out of the casino? We had so much fun going to all the parties."
"Yeah."
The most memorable part of that trip—for him at least—was getting badly sunburnt and then getting into a fistfight with a guy twice his size because Maria refused to give him the Oxy he paid for.
"Or how about when we were in California and stayed in that hotel on the beach? We spent all week swimming around in the ocean..."
That was the week he told her that he loved her. She didn't say it back, but she mentioned not knowing what she would do without him. It wasn't the response he was hoping for. Her kisses that followed stung his skin like little bites.
"I should go." He runs a hand through his hair trying to diffuse his stress.
"Hm. Think about my offer, okay? I could use your help. We could get dinner together like old times."
He hangs up and the brief conversation sets off a flood of memories and emotions that he buried over the summer.
He used to want nothing more than to make her happy. She was the one person he would do anything and everything for. She knew she could depend on him.
Things would be a lot easier if she had cut ties with him and been outright cruel. Instead, he's left in a grey zone, just like he was the entirety of their relationship.
He's the one at fault for feeling this way.
The need for closure gnaws at him ferociously, and he knows he would be an idiot to go crawling back. He's in a lose-lose situation.
There isn't any alcohol left in the house. Charlotte and Rosalie had polished off the rest of the wine watching the finale of The Bachelor in Paradise.
A walk might help.
He slips on a pair of sneakers and heads outside, not bothering to put on a hoodie or anything over the t-shirt and sweats he has on.
The crisp night air has a chill to it. He walks down to Pikes Place and up through Westlake with a heavy heart, passing by closed shops and bars full of people having a much better time than he is.
...
Emmett sits on a bench in the 24-hour gym working on his bicep curls. He's half-watching a rerun of Keeping Up With The Kardashians on the nearby TV and half wondering if he should change up his diet to include more quinoa because it's apparently a great source of protein.
He checks his phone. Midnight Sun is starting soon, which means that it's Celine's time to shine.
Grabbing his headphones out of his bag, he syncs them with his phone and tabs over to the live stream.
"Good evening. You're listening to Midnight Sun: Seattle's best music podcast. We stream live every Sunday night from 11 to 3. I'm your host, Edward Masen, and I'm having an existential crisis. It's 11:01 pm and 50 degrees outside."
Typical Edward. He's hilarious.
"Tonight we're starting off a little different. I got a request for this song, and I feel it's appropriate despite my tumultuous circumstances. Here we go, Celine Dion's international pop super song, 'The Power of Love.'"
"YESSS!" Emmett pumps his fist in the air. Other people working out around him look over at his sudden outburst, but he continues jamming to the music.
He's halfway through the song when a text notification comes in, momentarily interrupting his song.
This is why he always leaves his phone in the car. Someone is always trying to interrupt his solo gym time. Even a social butterfly such as himself needs alone time to listen to music, watch reality TV, and get his gains. It's called self-care.
The biggest tragedy of the night is still not being able to work out his legs. The crutches are cramping his style and he doesn't want to end up walking around with scrawny chicken thighs after not getting his squats in for over a month. His body needs maintenance to stay swole.
He checks to see who's texting him, but the number isn't saved in his contacts.
Hey. Feeling better? is all the message says.
Emmett doesn't recognize the area code from the mystery texter. Yeah, kinda! Who's this?, he types back in response.
It's probably someone he met at a party or from class. No biggie. They take their sweet time at replying—three little bouncing dots signal that they're typing—so Emmett turns his attention back to Midnight Sun.
"I think I'm experiencing karmic retribution for bad-mouthing Dolly last weekend. That can be the only explanation. As repentance for this error on my part, I'd like to formally apologize. We won't be playing anymore country on this podcast, however, because I'm fairly certain it's cursed. Next up we'll be listening to 'All I Want' by Kodaline."
Emmett's phone dings. One of the many girls you gave your number to apparently, the new text message from his mystery sender reads.
Woah, harsh. He doesn't give his number out to that many girls. He has standards, even if they're not nearly as distinct and particular as someone like Edward's.
The lightbulb goes off in his head. It's his angel! He quickly texts back.
She kept his number! He's thrilled.
He doesn't get a reply back by the time he's done working out, though, so he tries calling her from his Jeep before heading home.
The number goes straight to voicemail. The generic message to "leave a message after the tone" plays. He scratches his head in bewilderment.
Maybe he was wrong. That's awkward, but he might as well commit to it at this point. He has nothing to lose if it's not her.
He leaves a voicemail, "Hey, Rosalie! It's Emmett. Give me a call when you get a chance. I'd like to see you again and...yeah. Cool."
He starts his Wrangler and Midnight Sun continues playing through his car stereo. A bizarre mopey song about American cat piss and flightless birds is playing.
He needs to talk with Edward about adding in some more upbeat music, otherwise, he'll surely put all of Seattle to sleep.
...
When Jasper returns home from his walk, Peter and Charlotte are still out, Rosalie is asleep in the den, and he feels no better than when he left.
Though primarily nocturnal, his sleep schedule is so out of rhythm that he feels equal parts exhausted and alert. His thoughts bounce around in his head at double speed like an anxious whirlwind.
His hands shake as he grabs two small white pills out of the bathroom medicine cabinet and swallows them.
Returning to his room, he tries lying down and going to sleep. A wave of unwelcome memories and feelings keep replaying in his mind.
Maria's smile, Maria's laugh, Maria's touch, Maria's lips, Maria's nails on his back...
Jasper brings his hands up to his face and groans in exasperation.
It shouldn't be this difficult.
His past in Texas wasn't good for him, but he isn't sure that he's cut out for anything better.
He was good at dealing. He made a lot of money and he didn't have to worry about keeping a strict Monday through Friday schedule. The inevitable fight here and there wasn't ideal, but it was manageable.
The crash after the party when everyone goes home strung out and hungover in the early hours of the morning is what leaves him wanting something else. It's an inescapable low. A reminder of everything wrong with his life and the world.
Over time it became increasingly clear that he wasn't supplying people with a good time, but with a means to their own destruction.
He always knew what he was doing wasn't good or right. He saw what happened to people when they kept the fast-paced, party-fueled lifestyle for too long. There's a good reason why it's illegal to do the kind of work he did.
He sucks at trying to be a normal, law-abiding undergrad student. His GPA is already plummeting. There's no way he can recover this far into the quarter.
It would be a lot easier to give up and go back to his old life. If nothing matters, then why bother with the difficult route of change? Especially when it's so clearly impossible.
He's become too climatized to the negative. The dark. He's never going to fit in with normal people with happy, functional lives.
After contemplating and staring out into the dark room for several minutes, he picks up his phone and dials the first number in his contacts.
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times.
"Jasper?" Alice answers. She sounds like she's been sleeping.
He instantly feels guilty. "Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
"I give you my number and you casually decide to call me for the first time at 3 am?" She gives a sleepy giggle.
"I can call back later. I didn't realize how late it was."
"No, no, it's fine. I'm awake now. What's up?"
"Nothing, really."
"Are you out?"
"No, I'm home." He puts her on speaker and sets the phone down next to his head on the bed. "I couldn't sleep."
"If you're calling me to come over, I'm sorry to say I'm far too comfortable in my own bed at the moment, and I don't plan on leaving."
"Nah, my bed sucks. I was hoping you'd be the one calling me over," he teases.
"That's an exciting thought," she says noncommittally, yawning. "Don't you have class tomorrow?"
He yawns too. "In the afternoon, yeah. I don't have any morning classes this quarter."
"How posh, I didn't know there was such a thing."
"I doubt I'll be so lucky next term."
He feels a little better talking with her now. He hopes she'll keep talking with him longer, though he knows he should probably let her sleep.
"Enrollment's coming up. Do you know what you're taking? I have French 302 for sure, maybe a textiles class, or merchandising..." she says.
"I haven't looked at the course catalog yet. I should." He lets his eyes fall shut while he listens to her feathery soft words. "You speak French?"
"Oui, j'ai habité à Paris pendant deux mois."
"I can't say I have any idea what that means, but it sounds great."
"I lived in Paris two months," she translates. "It's so pretty there. I want to go again. I went last summer for fun, but this time I'm going to try for an internship."
"I think I'm going to fail all of my classes this quarter."
"Still?" She pauses, humming as if thinking something over. "Go to office hours and see what you can do for more points so you don't have to retake them. Are you getting tired yet?"
"Kind of."
"Should I recite a bedtime story for you then? Sleeping Beauty perhaps? Or do you prefer to be serenaded?"
He smiles. "I'm not opposed to either."
"Mhm, you don't seem like the type that would be. Hey, do you want to come over next weekend? I'm hosting a little dinner party with my housemates and some of their friends."
"Sure, I would love to."
"Okay, good, I hope you like spaghetti, because that's what Esme decided she's making, and I don't cook."
"You don't cook at all?"
"No, I have so many other wonderful talents, it's like why take that away from the people who truly need it. Do you?"
"Kind of. I can make pancakes and fry an egg."
"Sounds like a balanced diet. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."
She's so nice.
"Have you lived anywhere else besides Seattle and Paris?" he asks.
"Biloxi," her voice gets fainter. "That was a long time ago, though."
"Do you want to go back?"
"No, I don't think so."
There's a lull in the conversation. He thinks she might have fallen back asleep.
He starts to doze off but she breaks the silence, "Jasper?"
"Mhm?"
"I like you a lot. I like talking with you."
"I like you, too, Alice."
