Emmett carefully stacks another coupe glass onto the next layer of the budding champagne tower, pleased with how well the boozy pyramid is coming along.
"Hey Siri, play New Year's Eve Jams," Alice calls out from the other room. The shuffled playlist of Edward's favorite indie rock music transitions over into a Cher song, filling the house with upbeat dance music.
Emmett pumps his fist in the air, appreciating the change in genres as he continues his project. "Hell yeah!"
Alice spent all night and most of the morning decorating the house with countless gold streamers and mylar balloons. Every flat surface is covered in metallic confetti, noisemakers, or some sort of shiny decor. She's overdone things in her typical Alice style.
His one assigned job was prepping the drinks.
Rosalie walks into the kitchen with Esme, the two carrying crates of bubbly in their hands from the garage. She's wearing a black fitted dress with strappy heels, and her shiny blond hair is pulled over in a deep side part with cascades of big, loose waves.
"You look hot," he compliments.
Rosalie kisses him and pulls up a bar stool. "Thanks."
"It's about time we got some alcohol in here!" Tanya calls out from the couch. Irina and Kate sit with her, gathered around the large flat screen playing the New York City New Year's Eve show. It's almost midnight on the east coast, but they're only just getting settled into their party.
Bella comes downstairs at some point, and it's obvious that she has been put through one of Alice's makeovers.
"Do a spin!" Alice shouts at Bella as she flits back in from the other room, clearly outshining her masterpiece with her bejeweled gold dress and metallic gold eyeliner,
"I don't want to," Bella protests quietly.
"Why? You're so pretty!" Alice insists. "Isn't she pretty, Edward?"
Edward—who's been sitting at the counter island spacing off and staring at the tower of glasses Emmett's working on—perks up at this new development. "You look beautiful, Bella. You always do."
Emmett snorts in laughter at how red the comment makes her turn. "Edward and Bella sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-"
Edward punches him in the shoulder.
"Hey, what was that for?" Emmett complains, shoving him back playfully.
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Alice darting back and forth between the kitchen and the living room like a tiny, frenzied disco ball.
"Alice, what are you doing?" Edward asks her irritably.
"I thought Jasper was getting a ride with Rosalie."
"He was, but then he said he was going to catch an Uber instead," Rosalie says. "He should have beat me here. I stopped to get gas."
Emmett looks up and sees Alice tapping away on her phone looking unusually focused. She shakes her head and walks out of view.
The doorbell rings. "It's Eleazar," Alice announces flatly, opening the front door for him.
"Señiorita Carmen?!" Emmett shouts when he sees his and Edward's Spanish professor come in.
"Oh, you know each other!" Eleazar laughs. "This is my girlfriend that I was telling you about before."
"Yeah, she's only the coolest Spanish professor ever," Emmett raves. "I'm sad I'm not going to be in her class next quarter. Who's gonna help me translate memes now?"
"Aw, maybe in Spring," she says encouragingly.
"Bella, this is Eleazar, one of Carlisle's old college friends," Edward introduces the newcomer to her. "And Señiori—erm...Carmen was Emmett's and my Spanish professor last quarter..."
Emmett leaves them to their small talk and turns his attention back to the finished tower of glasses he'd worked so hard on. Esme helps unwrap the bottles of champagne, and Rosalie pops one open, pouring it into the top of the pyramid so that it trickles down the lower glasses like a waterfall.
"Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!" the New York crowd on the television cheers, marking nine o'clock for Seattle.
Emmett grabs a glass from the top and takes a drink of the fizzy alcohol. "Nice."
"Do you have a New Year's resolution?" Rosalie asks, following suit and picking up a glass as well.
"Yeah, I'm gonna stop skipping my Friday leg workouts and pay Carlisle back for the rent loan. What about you?"
"I don't do resolutions. They're stupid."
He laughs. "Make one up."
"I'll drink more water," she offers insincerely, rolling her eyes and taking a drink from her glass. "It doesn't matter because people just use resolutions as excuses to say they're going to do something that they never do."
"Uh, yeah, if they're quitters. I've had plenty of successful resolutions. Like when I made a goal last year to do a Sunday Funday every weekend instead of just once a month."
"What does that mean?"
"So on Saturday nights after our games, we would go out to a party or bar crawl. Then instead of going home, we would go straight to brunch as soon as the breakfast places opened. That way we'd be sober by the time Monday morning rolls around. And we'd still be up early enough on Sunday to go to something like the farmer's market or a volunteer clean up at the park," he explains.
"You resolved to pull a drunken all-nighter to maximize your weekend hours."
"Yeah! It really helped my GPA and social life."
"That's one way to do it," she says skeptically. "I haven't gone to brunch in forever. I used to go every weekend with friends, but it wasn't quite as..."
"Fun?"
"I was going to say sloppy or reckless."
He laughs and leans over to kiss her cheek. "Hey, I'm down if you are. Esme and Alice are really into that stuff. I'm sure they'd wanna go too."
Her scent, her hair, her everything distracts him from his goal. The kiss turns into more of a nuzzle that makes her squirm away.
Her voice comes out squeaky and unusually high in pitch. "What are you doing?"
"What? Are you ticklish?" he says, poking her in the ribs. She shirks away quickly, almost spilling her drink. That's a yes.
"No!" she says unconvincingly, starting to smile. "You're being obnoxious."
He likes it when he can get a laugh out of her. It feels good.
...
"I love this color on you."
"Tha...nks..." Bella breathes out.
Edward's hands move over the smooth, navy material of her dress and he looks at the drapey flutter sleeve approvingly.
She's caught up in a kiss before she knows it. Though she's vaguely aware there are others in the room conversing and doing things that people do at parties, as far as she's concerned, it's just her and Edward. Even time seems to stop existing when they're together.
"DAMN, GET A ROOM!" Emmett booms. "OWWW! OWWW!"
Bella's face goes bright red. She quickly pulls away from Edward.
"Ignore him," Edward says to her with a sideward glance. He's relatively unfazed by the obnoxious taunting. It must be something he deals with often.
Emmett guffaw—prompting a few others to join in laughing—before redirecting his attention to the Jenga tower that Kate's building.
She wishes she could come up with a decent comeback, but she has nothing.
The sound of the kitchen garage door opening and shutting again softly can be heard through the chatter along with approaching footsteps.
"What the hell..." Edward curses, his eyes focused across the room on the new arrivals.
Alice and Jasper are in the kitchen, the latter of whom looks very drunk.
Edward gets up and walks over to the pair irritably.
Alice immediately frowns. "Edward."
"I'm just saying hello to our guest." His reply verges on a snarl.
"Hey," Jasper replies with a nod. He's keeping his distance, but there's no hiding the sway in his step as his looming figure trails behind tiny, sparkly Alice.
Bella joins them in the kitchen hesitantly, smiling at Alice when she catches her eye. She's been around drinking people all night, but there's a distinct smell of liquor on Jasper. She wouldn't be surprised if he fell in an entire bathtub of booze before making it to the house.
"Great. Well, now that we've all said 'hi,' I think we're going to go upstairs and call it a night," Alice announces breezily.
"It isn't even midnight yet. Isn't that the whole point of New Year's Eve?" Edward asks, his tone cold. "You're the one who planned this party."
Alice shakes her head. "Not right now, Edward."
"What? We're talking. Friends talk. It looks like you were out with your other friends, though, weren't you, Jazz?"
Jasper nods once more, blinking slowly like he regretted the motion. "Peter and Charlotte were hanging out in SLU before the MoPop party, so I tagged along."
"Oh, the ones who deal drugs, yeah. I remember them. I'm sure they'll make a killing tonight," Edward replies harshly. This prompts Alice to grab Jasper's hand and pull him along with her into the living room and towards the stairs.
"Happy New Year!" A chorus of cheering erupts.
Unsatisfied with that answer, Edward starts to follow them, and Bella unsuccessfully grabs his arm. He brushes her off easily.
"Edward, what are you doing?" Bella hisses, trying not to make a scene. Alice is their friend, and she's always been nice to her—even if her version of nice meant making Bella sit still while she curled her hair and dabbed cosmetics at her face for two hours straight.
"He shouldn't be here. If she wants to hang out with self-serving, drugged-up garbage, she can go to his place, not bring him to ours." He's clearly in the mood for some kind of vigilante tirade because he doesn't stop there. "Or is the meth tub not aesthetically pleasing enough, Alice?"
Jasper's brows furrow. "There's no meth tub."
"Bummer!" Edward feigns disappointment.
Apparently, there's been some kind of tension between the three going on that Bella didn't notice before. She wonders if Edward's much more strict on drinking than she'd previously thought, but that doesn't account for the fact that he hasn't been bothering anyone else at the party about it.
What's his problem?
"Let's stay down here with the others," Bella suggests. She can ask Alice about it later. Right now she needs to try to calm down Edward.
He doesn't hear her at all.
"Can you stop?" Alice asks, visibly irritated now that Edward's standing in the middle of their path, blocking the couple from going upstairs.
"Sure, once you stop bringing a criminal-slash-addict into the house. Regardless of whatever stupid visions you think you saw, you can't fix that."
Bella tries to get his attention. "Edward!"
Alice turns back around and heads back into the kitchen again.
Edward's keen on seeing them out and continues his relentless charge. Bella chases after him, trying and failing to grab his arm as he follows the pair into the garage.
Her foot catches on the hardwood floor. She trips and loses her balance, stumbling forward. "Ah!"
Jasper turns and reaches to steady her. She thinks for a moment she'll be okay. Highly embarrassed, but okay.
Edward shoves him hard, nudging Bella further off-balance in the process. "Don't touch her!"
She's falling backward.
Her arm hits the kitchen counter first, swinging out to grab onto something. She knocks over the remaining champagne glasses that were still stacked in a half-pyramid in the process. Two of the bar stools at the counter island go flying out of the way as she collides with them.
Crash!
Glass shatters and she slams into the wooden floor, her elbow hitting the cabinet with a loud thwack. Her hands land on sharp, broken shards.
Pain shoots up her arm and she can feel warmth on her palms that she knows is blood before she even sees it.
She tries not to look down at the presumably gory mess. She's afraid to move and make things worse. She's afraid to look because she'll probably pass out if she sees all the red.
"This is your fucking fault! This wouldn't have happened if you didn't come here!" Edward shouts.
The room goes silent.
Emmett rushes in to break up the squabble between Edward and Jasper—the majority of which is still being instigated by Edward. Before he gets between them, though, Jasper pushes Edward off and heads through the living room to the front door.
Edward continues to argue with Emmett as he keeps him from running after his target with a bear hug.
His face drops when Emmett decides to let him go and he sees Bella. "Shoot. Are you okay?" he asks, crouching to get a better look at her bleeding palms.
"Esme, can you grab the first aid kit, please?" Carlisle calls to his wife. "Let me by, Edward."
Bella feels faint. She wants to lie down.
Carlisle helps her up and leads her over to a chair in the dining room. "You're bleeding pretty badly. Do you want to go to the hospital? Or shall I stitch you up here? It's up to you," he questions in a calm voice.
"No hospital. I hate hospitals," she groans. She catches a glimpse of her bloody hands and arm out of her peripheral vision. She feels herself get even woozier. "Oh, jeez. That's really...oh..."
Alice hands him a towel, but Carlisle shakes his head. "There are shards in the wound. I don't want to push them in any deeper. Can you turn on the overhead light?" he requests.
The light above them flicks on. The warm, dim party lighting is replaced by something much brighter.
"I think we'll head out. Thanks for having us," Tanya calls out. The entryway closet opens and shuts as she and her sisters grab their coats and prepare to leave. The rest of Carlisle and Esme's friends follow suit.
Bella almost doesn't notice Alice leaving along with them, but she catches her apologetic look as she mouthes "I'm sorry" to her before going outside.
...
Alice drives slowly through the neighborhood, her headlights lighting up the rainy, winding drive as she looks for Jasper. She turns the speed of the windshield wipers up and feels her heart sink when she thinks of him wandering around all alone.
Edward was too severe. He doesn't know Jasper like she does, and he doesn't know how hard he's been trying to sober up for the past month.
He needs more time. It's been going so well. He'll get there.
She spots him at the bottom of the hill, a few blocks over, hunched against the rain, and yet again without his coat. He left it at the house, but it isn't as if it'd do him any good now that he's soaked.
Rolling down the passenger side window, she calls out to him, "Jasper!"
He continues walking, seemingly pretending not to notice her. It's aggravating.
"Jasper! Hey!" She pulls up beside him on the street and unlocks the doors. "I want to talk to you!"
He's being stubborn. She doesn't want to get out of the car—she spent hours on her makeup—but she will if necessary.
"Jazz!"
He stops walking and looks over at her with a dejected, miserable expression. Finally.
"Your keys, phone, and jacket are still at the house! How are you getting home without those? Can you get in the car?" she pleads. "I'm sorry Edward was mean. He's being dramatic. Bella's fine."
He shakes his head. "He's right, though. What's the point of trying if I'm just going to keep screwing up?"
He's still tipsy, but it looks like he's sobered up a bit from the walk. "Can you get in the car so we can stop shouting at each other, please? The neighbors are going to complain, and I'm going to lose my voice."
He complies, getting into the car with a slump.
She drives them back to the house and pulls him by the hand back inside and upstairs. He sits in the armchair by her door while she digs around in the closet for something he can change into.
He might not know it, but she's been shopping for him for a while. One of her favorite things to do is shop, and that isn't limited just to herself. Shopping for others is double the fun. She grabs a pair of men's pajama pants and a t-shirt off the shelf.
"Here, you can take a shower if you want..." She steps back into her room and finds him looking sorrier by the second. "Jazz, you don't need to be so hard on yourself. I'm sure it'll be fine. I'll talk with Edward later."
Evidently, he doesn't think so.
With a sigh, she starts to remove his shirt. "You should at least change into something that's not damp."
He flinches away, sitting up from his slouched posture abruptly.
She's confused by the reaction. "What's wrong?"
"Sorry, I—" He exhales. "You'll see."
"Um. Okay."
Alice slides his shirt off the rest of the way. She doesn't understand his stress. He has a nice, athletic build, no tacky tattoos...
Her eyes stop on the dozens of faded, raised lines running across his arms. They look like healed cuts.
"I haven't seen you in a short sleeve ever," she says. She slides her thumb along his wrist, smoothing over the scarred skin until her hand's holding his.
"They're old," he explains, staying very still and staring down at the floor. "From before I started drinking. Middle school through high school. Another bad habit."
He did it to himself.
"Oh," she says softly, brushing a water droplet off his shoulder.
"It's...vile, I know."
His resolve crumbles under her gaze. There's no need for him to worry. She thought she made it clear that she would never do anything to hurt him.
This new information—as startling as it may be—makes something click for her. She feels like she's starting to understand him better. The drinking, the drugs, and now a history with cutting are all destructive attempts at self-medicating. She's just not sure what.
"It's okay," she reassures before he can say something deprecating. "What's done is done. It's doesn't change anything. I still love you."
"You...what?" he croaks, looking up and making eye contact with her for the first time since they've been back a the house.
She doesn't understand why he's getting worked up again for. "Hm?"
He shakes his head, his brows knitted together tensely.
Oh. Oh. She hasn't said that to him yet, has she? Is it a big deal that she blurted it out like that?
Sometimes it's difficult to keep track of what's already happened and what's still coming up, but she was fairly certain she made her feelings obvious. They kissed, talked on the phone late at night, and slept in the same bed together more than once. To her, at least, those are all blatant displays of love and affection.
"I love you," she repeats as she pushes his hair back out of his face, fixing it for him. She hopes it sounds confident.
Even if he doesn't say it back today, she's certain he will eventually. She can be patient.
Her visions of their future together will come true. She's certain of their shared potential for success and happiness.
She realizes she's holding her breath and tries to breathe again with limited success. Seconds feel like minutes.
"I love you, too," he says back.
Alice beams at the three little words she had waited so long to hear out loud, live, and in person.
...
"Thanks for doing this. I really, really didn't want to make a trip to the hospital this late," Bella says, watching Carlisle carefully stitching up the gash across her palm and wrist.
"Oh, especially on New Year's Eve. It would be packed."
Carlisle makes quick work of her injury, his hands steady from years of practice in the ER. Every few seconds, she hears a little plink of glass dropping as he removes shards from her skin.
She tries her best to focus on Carlisle's face rather than his hands for fear of making herself sick. He has a nice face. Blue eyes, blond hair, and that kind of easy-going, wholesome smile that says he's probably great with small animals and children.
"I can sure clear out a party fast," Bella comments, remembering how rapidly the other guests had disappeared after the incident. The beautiful gold decorations throughout the house seem so out of place with everyone gone.
Edward is nowhere to be seen, and Rosalie and Emmett disappeared into the latter's room. Esme, meanwhile, is tidying up around the house and collecting glasses and dishes.
"It's not your fault. It's already past midnight, and that's how long these kinds of things last anyway," Carlisle replies.
"That's easy for you to say."
"Believe it or not, but they did the same thing last year. The only difference is no one's left sleeping on the sofa this time around."
Bella sees Alice out of the corner of her eye, slinking down the stairs with feline grace.
She hands Bella the clothes she had shown up to the house in earlier that afternoon—a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. "Here. Sorry about earlier."
"Don't worry about it. I'm fine. Carlisle got me all patched up," Bella asserts. "Is Jasper okay?"
"He feels really bad about what happened."
"It's not his fault. Tell him it's okay for me, please?"
"I will," she says softly, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard and filling it with water before heading back upstairs just as quietly as she came.
Edward returns from the backyard looking serious. He went out there with Emmett to talk after everything happened and stayed outside long after his friend came back in. He stands beside Bella's chair and waits.
"Alright, all finished," Carlisle announces after several minutes. "You'll likely have some bruising, and it seems like you might have pulled your shoulder when you fell. Take Tylenol as needed for the pain."
"Thank you."
"I'll take you home," Edward says.
"O-oh, okay," she stammers. She thought she would be able to stay at the house for the night, but apparently not.
He drives her back to Eastlake and—despite the lack of traffic—the trip feels much longer without their usual banter. Once they park, Bella unbuckles her seatbelt and studies his chiseled features and swept-back hair in the dark, internally willing him to say something.
"Edward."
"What?"
"That's it? Look, I'm sorry I ruined the party. I didn't mean to. Please forgive me."
He gives her a reproachful look. "What do you mean sorry you ruined the party? Forgive you? No, you didn't do anything wrong. Jasper did. Alice did. I did."
"I was the one who fell down and—"
"I shoved you, Bella," Edward says frustratedly. "You got hurt because of me. Again."
That's not how she sees it at all. He would never do that on purpose.
"More than anything, I'm mortified by how bad my balance is. I'll be good as new in a week or two." She tries to give a hopeful smile. "What was going on between you and Jasper? Did I miss something?"
He sighs. "I don't trust him. He's not safe."
"So you tried to fight him? He always seemed so nice to me," Bella says, chewing her lip in thought. "Are you sure he's like...as bad as you think he is?"
Edward doesn't say anything. He looks beyond tired. The night's events seem to have taken a toll on him.
None of it makes sense. He isn't someone who would get into petty fights. There has to be more to the story. Was he serious when he said Jasper was involved in drug deals? That doesn't make sense either.
Bella grabs her apartment keys out of her pocket. "Okay, so...um, did you want to come up?"
"Not tonight. I'll see you tomorrow."
She expected that answer, but it still stings to hear out loud. "Right. Well, good night," she says, getting out of the car.
"Sleep well, Bella."
