Jasper drops a pat of butter into the frying pan, waits for it to melt, and then pours some pancake batter over it.
Alice oohs in awe, intently watching him flip it, plate it, and then pour another circle of batter.
It's the first time she's staying over at his place. Well, Peter and Charlotte's place that they've been kind enough to share with him for the past several months. He knows it's not nearly as nice as the big suburban house she lives in with the others, but at least he's able to cook her breakfast without people coming and going through the space. Once Peter and Charlotte leave for the day, they don't typically return until dinner time or later.
He stoops down and kisses her, hugging her while he waits on the next pancake to cook.
"I've been waiting for this moment since the night you told me you're an accomplished chef," Alice tells him.
"I don't remember saying that."
"Maybe not, but it's what I heard."
His phone rings from its spot on the other side of the little kitchen, interrupting their banter.
"Do you think that's the internship?" Alice asks.
"Do you?" He hands her the spatula. "Here. Can you watch the stove while I take it?"
"Sure!"
He grabs the phone and walks back into his room to answer the call. "Hello, Jasper Hale speaking."
"*Hi, Mr. Hale. This is Zafina from the university psychology department. Is this a good time?"
"Yes, of course. How are you?"
"Oh, fantastic, thank you for asking. Our team was very impressed with your interview last week. I'd like to officially extend an offer on the research assistant internship you applied for. Are you still interested?*"
"Yes! Thank you. That's great," he replies in an upbeat tone that matches hers.
He smells burning. That can't be good.
"Perfect. I'll send you an email shortly with your introductory packet and some papers we'll need you to sign. If you can get them back to me by end of day Monday, that would be great. Of course, if you have any questions, don't hesitate to email or call..."
The burning smell is getting stronger. He hears talking on the other end of the line, but his attention is focused on whatever's happening in the other room.
"Okay, thank you," he says hurriedly as soon as there's a pause.
"Have a great rest of your day, Mr. Hale."
Beep! Beep! Beep! The fire alarm sounds.
"You too, thank you, bye!" He ends the call, rushing back into the kitchen.
The stove's billowing black smoke.
"Sorry, I tried watching it and it still burned," Alice squeaks.
He quickly turns off the burners and tosses the pan in the sink, flipping on the tap. "Can you open the windows?"
"Yes!" she darts over to the living room window and tries to push it open while Jasper fans the smoke detector with a book that was left on the counter.
She moves to the next window without having opened the first. She tries again, struggling, and it doesn't budge either.
He should have expected that. It's an old building.
"I'll get it," Jasper offers. He has no trouble opening both. Cool air seeps in from outside. "They kind of get stuck."
"Sorry," she repeats, her lower lip pushing out into a pout.
"It's fine, don't worry about it."
"I was trying to watch it, but I got distracted," she explains. "I got this weird feeling like I was forgetting something, so I tried to remember, but then I forgot that I was watching the stove..."
"Did you remember what you forgot?"
"No! That's the worst part. I mean, other than almost burning down your apartment." She returns to the kitchen and looks at the charred mess in the sink that's still giving off a horrible burnt smell. "I'll buy you a replacement pan."
"You don't have to do that."
She tilts her head. "What did they say? On the phone. Was it the internship?"
"Yeah, I got it!"
"Woo! Yay! Congrats!" She jumps and throws her arms up around him.
Somehow, his final term of senior year is looking a lot brighter than he could have ever imagined it would be.
...
"Someone's been driving my Aston Martin," Edward complains as soon as he's within speaking distance of Alice.
They're meeting for lunch at a new sandwich shop in South Lake Union that's full of young tech employees working on their laptops and tablets. Alice, however, looks like she was playing a game on her phone while she waited for him.
He wanted to confront her about the car last night, but she wasn't home. He wonders if she planned that.
"Have you talked with Bella yet?" Alice asks, hedging his accusation.
He hasn't, but that's beside the point.
It's already the afternoon. Bella said she would call him once she's awake. She needs her rest. She isn't used to international travel, so the jet lag must have taken its toll on her.
She's going to call him.
"It was you, wasn't it?" he questions, turning them back toward his original thought. "You were driving it."
"You took your Tesla and there weren't any other cars," Alice defends. "I even took it to a car wash and got it detailed after."
That explains the artificial vanilla scent cloying the interior. "Yeah, I noticed. Did you drive it the entire time I was away? There are over five thousand more miles on it."
Alice rolls her eyes. "No, I only drove it for a weekend. Jasper and I took a road trip to Biloxi to try to find my old house."
Edward stares at her in disbelief. "Why didn't you just fly?"
"Because there was an Aston Martin in the garage not being used. You're right, though. I should start driving my own car. A Porsche would be nice. A two-seater like the cute yellow one I drove in Italy."
She definitely doesn't have money for a sports car with how she shops. Her bank account is in a constant state of being converted into shoes and bags. In fact the designer outfit she's currently wearing—a bright pinky-orange colored dress and white pumps—also looks brand new.
"I'm not buying you a Porsche!" Edward retorts irritably.
"I didn't ask you to. It would be a nice idea, though. I would think about what a great friend I have every time I drove it."
She's delusional if she thinks he's ever buying her a car.
"How was Biloxi?" he asks.
"That address you found lead us to an old, abandoned house. It was pretty anticlimactic. Oh, then we visited a graveyard and ran into my sister! She screamed at me and ran away," she recalls with an air of flippancy. "And we stayed in a resort with an ocean view, which was nice. I couldn't go play any fun casino games, though, because someone shredded my ID."
"Did the trip jog your memory at all?"
She shakes her head. "I got you a club sandwich," she says, motioning to the plate of food on his side of the table. "That's what you usually get, right?"
It's not. He's never even been to the restaurant before, but that's beside the point. She clearly wants to change the subject. He'll have to ask more about her sister later.
"Thanks, yeah." He takes a bite of the sandwich. "How are things with...Jasper?"
Edward doesn't want to start another argument, but he's still uncertain how to feel about him. He doesn't want someone untrustworthy hanging out around his home, even if everyone else is welcoming him with open arms.
"Great." She grins. "He's even better than I saw. You need to trust my intuitive abilities more."
"You really think so?"
"He's more of a sure thing in my life than you are, Edward," Alice says frankly. "And you know how much I value you as a friend."
She has been talking about him for a while. Her mystery blond was a reoccurring topic of conversation since he met her, though Edward usually tuned her out right around that point.
"You've been wrong before. And you've been able to change the future as well," he reminds her. His safe return home from Italy is proof—as is Bella's survival from James' plans and Alice's continued success with the stock market.
"I'm not wrong this time. I've never felt so certain of a future with anyone before."
He sighs. "That's what everyone thinks until things go sour. You didn't even know he had a substance problem until how long into your relationship?"
Even if his experience wasn't a lasting one, the feeling of thinking that Bella had moved on and didn't care about him was devastating. He can't fathom how someone like Jasper could provide any sense of stability or consistency, especially to someone as flighty as Alice.
"Nothing's going sour," she says irritatedly. "He was just going through a tough time and needed some support. It's under control."
There's nothing like a healthy dose of psychic girlfriend codependency to keep someone clean and sober. No wonder she's so certain he won't leave her.
"I wish you'd at least give him a chance. You have a decent amount of shared interests! Like hiking, and reading really dry philosophical books, and overthinking things. You could both use another friend."
Truthfully, he hardly noticed much about him aside from his jitteriness and substance problem. She might have a point, but even if she doesn't, it's feeling like more of a chore to contradict her than to just go along with it. He's getting tired of betting against Alice.
"Fine. I'll give him a shot," he agrees.
He'll trust her intuitive abilities as much as he's able, at least in this regard. He can't imagine ever being friends with someone like Jasper, but maybe there's something she sees that Edward's still missing.
She smiles. "Thank you."
...
Loud voices come from the other side of an open doorway, flooding Rosalie's dreams with bouts of laughter and boisterous conversation.
She can't move. She's trapped. Paralyzed.
The scenes jump and blur, playing out of order in a haze both hurried and too slow. The only thing she can seem to focus on clearly is her perfectly manicured hand adorned with a big, glittering, Tiffany's diamond outstretched over the side of her bed.
She hears unzipping and fabric rustling. A belt buckle. Her dress is on the floor.
A gold hairpin clatters down against the wood after it, just barely missing one of the dozens of vases of roses along the floor. She ran out of space on her dresser and vanity table for them. She knows her scalp should hurt, but she doesn't feel the tug of her hair being pulled.
She wants to wake up.
Footsteps sound and she sees a pair of shiny shoes appear from the hallway.
It takes her far too long to navigate her way back to consciousness.
By the time she wakes, it's a quarter past 4 pm and she's in a terrible mood. It's already dark outside again. Her shoulders hurt and her stomach is twisted up in knots.
Despite being exhausted from a non-stop week and sending Emmett back to his own home so she doesn't have to deal with his snoring, she tossed and turned all night.
She switches on all the lights around her apartment and sees that the deadbolt is turned and her windows are latched—though not many people would ever attempt scaling seven stories. Her keys are in the catch dish in the foyer where she left them.
Her apartment feels off. She feels off.
The familiar assortment of furniture and decorations make her unusually anxious. She flips around the throw pillows, rotates the coffee table, and shoves the armchair to the other end of the space. It doesn't help.
Her skin is starting to itch.
The mirrored console table reflects back the image of limp, dingy hair, dry skin, and the traces of residual eye makeup left on from her poor cleansing attempt the night before. A pinkish rash is spreading across her neck and chest.
"Great," she sighs to herself.
Scratching despite her better judgment, she grabs a glass from the cupboard and fills it with water, drinking it in large gulps.
A loud thump comes from outside in the hallway and she jumps, dropping the glass onto the floor.
"Shit!" she hisses. "What is wrong with me?"
She sweeps up the shards and throws a towel down over the spilled water before heading into the bathroom.
Her skin feels like it's crawling. She turns the shower on and sits curled up under the hot water, scrubbing away the feeling of clammy hands creeping over her until the water goes cold.
She gets dressed in leggings and one of Emmett's hoodies he left last time he was over and sits on the couch with damp hair while she catches up with her phone.
An hour ago Emmett texted her. Just got out of that social media interview and it went supes well. I'm gonna go to a study group then hit up the gym. Call me when you're up?
Nope. Not now.
One of her coworkers messaged asking if she can cover a last-minute shift this week.
Not a chance.
Three hours ago Alice send her a meme about Tokyo Fashion Week and a picture of a pair of sky-high blush-hued heels with a floof of some kind of faux fur on the toe captioned Do we think this is cute? There's also a series of texts from her time-stamped a half-hour ago.
ROSALIEEE!
Wanna hang out? I'm gonna find a vinyasa class to go to before I start on my reading.
It's in Greenlake by the smoothie place.
I want an acai bowl.
Oh, oops! Emmett just told me you're sleeping.
Sorry if I woke you up. I hope you're one of those people who puts your phone on silent when you're sleeping.
I don't in case of emergencies, but I know a lot of people do.
The smoothie place also has coffee.
It starts at five, so let me know.
Rosalie can only imagine how many messages Jasper's phone is bombarded with throughout the day.
She grabs her keys, digs through the closet for her mat, and slides on some sneakers. It's been a while since she's been to a yoga class.
Alice is standing outside the studio with a mat slung across her shoulder when Rosalie arrives, rapidly tapping away at her phone screen. She looks like she's playing a game.
"Hi, how are you?" Alice asks, barely glancing up. She hands Rosalie a hair tie.
Rosalie takes it from her, putting her still-damp hair up in a ponytail. "I hate my life."
"Aw. Have you tried buying things?"
"I want to get a new set of apartment furniture."
"That's the spirit! Let's go to CB2 after this. And Pottery Barn. Ooh, and Restoration Hardware," Alice chirps. "I signed us up for the hot yoga. I hope you don't mind, but it sounded nice since it's still kind of cold out."
"Yeah, that's fine."
Despite her sporty attire of leggings and a long-sleeved yellow wrap top, Alice has a splash of orangey coral eyeshadow across her lids, likely meant to coordinate with her outfit earlier in the day.
Rosalie internally chastises herself over how she should have put on some concealer before leaving the house. She looks past Alice into the dark reflection of the studio's windows and tries to discern how terrible she looks.
Through the glass, she can see a trio of tired-looking women with messy buns and Lululemon leggings, the out-of-trend patterns obviously from more than five years ago.
She decides she looks fine. It could be worse.
Alice drops her phone in her pocket and starts walking for the front door. "Great! Let's go in, then. I want to get a spot near the front. I've gone to this instructor a few times before. You're going to feel great. She's amazing."
...
When it starts getting closer to dinnertime than lunch and he still hasn't heard from Bella, Edward decides to go—takeout boxes in hand—to her apartment to check on her.
If she's angry with him, then at least he's coming bearing food.
He pushes the call box button out front. After a few seconds, Angela's voice comes through the tinny speaker.
"Hi..?" she says meekly, sounding confused.
"Hello, this is Edward. Is Bella in?"
"Ummm..." Another voice, presumably Jessica's, says something indistinct in the background to her. "She's still sleeping. I haven't seen her since she got home last night."
"Is it okay if I come up and check on her?" he asks. "We were supposed to go out to eat, but she never got back to me. I brought her dinner."
"Sure." She buzzes him in.
He walks up to the third floor and wonders if Bella's roommates let in anyone vaguely familiar who asks. He hopes he's the exception and not the rule.
Jessica answers the door, smiling a bit too gleefully. "Hey, Edward. How was your study abroad thing? Was Italy fun? I hear Volterra is beautiful. Lots of history."
"It was fine," he replies, noticing that she's not moving aside to let him in. He doesn't want to chat with her. "I'm, um, here for Bella, so..."
She steps out of the way. "Right. Go on ahead. I'd love to hear about your trip when you get a chance!"
She's more irritating than he remembers.
He goes to Bella's door and knocks. When there's no reply, he opens it slightly.
The curtains are drawn, no lights are on, and Bella's sleeping soundly in her bed.
He should wake her to eat. She can go back to sleep again after.
"Bella," he calls out softly.
She doesn't stir. He tries gently rocking her arm.
Her eyes flutter open.
She screams. "Aah!"
"Sorry!" he apologizes, getting up and fumbling for the light switch. "I didn't mean to startle you."
The room lights up and Bella sits, looking around bewildered. "Edward? Oh no..."
Maybe he isn't as welcome as he thought. "What's wrong?"
"I'm dreaming. I'm still dreaming. There's no way I went to Italy with Alice," She pinches her arm. "Agh. It hurts."
So that's what it's about. He laughs. "You're awake now."
"What time is it? I was supposed to call you!"
He holds up the takeout boxes. "It's fine. I picked up pad thai."
"How did you get in?"
"Jessica and Angela."
Her cheeks turn pink as she smooths her hair down with her hands. Her well-worn Forks High School t-shirt, sweats, and overall disheveled appearance are quite endearing. "You didn't have to go out of your way for that. I can take care of myself, you know. You probably have other things you'd rather be doing."
"I don't," he replies. "What could possibly be more important?"
"Everything. School, your other friends, internships, parties..."
It's tough to say the words out loud, even to her. "Bella, I was ready to end all of that three days ago because I thought you would never want to see or speak to me again."
Bella's brows scrunch together. "And why would I do that?"
"I...thought you had moved on and were seeing someone new."
"No!" she objects. "What are you talking about? You left me."
He sighs and sits down on her bed. "Which I need to apologize to you about," he says. "I shouldn't have broken things off how I did. It was wrong, but I didn't know what to do. I got scared. Things were moving so fast, and you seemed to be getting the brunt of all of my misjudgments. I didn't want to mess things up for you."
"You hurt me more. I spent every day wishing that you would come back."
His chest burns, a stabbing sensation filling his heart. "I thought I would somehow come to an answer for what I was doing wrong, but that didn't happen. The longer I thought about it, the more impossible it became. It seems I only ended up making us worse off...again."
Her eyes start to tear up, and her hands move to cover her face. "I knew I had to be dreaming."
"No, you're not." Edward shakes his head and scoots closer. He rests his hands on her shaking shoulders. "Bella, I love you. You and only you. I don't know how to tell you how sorry I am. I felt horrible every day we were apart."
"It never made sense for you to love me then, and it still doesn't now..." she whimpers. "You'll leave me again."
Even without another boyfriend in the picture, maybe it is too late to salvage their relationship.
"If I've hurt you too much, and you don't think you can see me the same way as you used to, I understand," he says. "But I promise you that I'll never leave you again if that's what you want."
"You can't promise something like that. I love you too much, and if you're not sure...I can't go through that again. I almost died."
"What? When?"
"What do you mean? That's what Alice saw. Me dying on the highway."
"She saw you dating someone new."
"No, she didn't."
That raises more questions, but he can get to those later. In the meantime, he knows not to take Rosalie's information with any sort of confidence
"What can I do to convince you that I'm being sincere?" he asks desperately.
"You said yourself a few times that you thought you thought we weren't going to work out. I'm not what you want...Marriage material..."
"I never said that."
"Yes, you did. Right after I tried to take my shirt off."
Oh. That. She thinks his reluctance to move forward means he lacks confidence in their relationship.
He sighs. "That's not what I meant, and I have...reconsidered what I said previously."
"Wait, really? I don't want to rush you into something you're not ready for."
"Yes, really," he reassures her. "Will you marry me?"
Bella's eyes widen. "You're kidding."
That hurts. "You think my proposing to you is a joke? I suppose I should have prepared a ring."
"No! No ring!" she shouts. "You realize my mom's going to make fun of me for this, right? We're still so young. My parents married young and divorced young. My friends from back home are going to gossip..."
"Maybe," he says, leaning over and kissing her forehead. "But I wouldn't count on it. The past few months made me realize I don't think I ever want to live without you."
"So what, now we drive to Vegas and elope?"
Edward laughs. "I'll go get the car."
Her face loses what little color it has to begin with. "Oh no. Okay, okay. I'll marry you. Not today, though," she agrees breathlessly. "I...I love you."
She kisses him, and it feels like all he's ever wanted is once again back on track.
"I love you, too," he replies. "Always."
