Chapter 18 – Lone Star
They never spoke of that night. She woke up to soft sounds of life outside the tent. She stretched her legs, and she swore she slept on the bed all night. Didn't she? Her face grew red when she remembered. She was on his pillow, on the floor by the bed.
She ran out of there. He chewed slowly, sipped on coffee and watched her run away. He heard her mumbling incoherently. Then she was gone, home and straight into her bed to stare at her walls until her eyes dried up.
He stared at trees, rubbed his face a few times, and let the quiet day take over his thoughts wherever they went. Some were of himself finding his arm curled around her at some point during the night.
She doesn't come back for days. He's fine with that.
When she does come back, they are quiet for a couple of days. She sits on her crate and snoozes a little, or reads her book. They're in comfortable silence until they aren't and conversations bubble up. She becomes herself again.
This time he implies first. Her phone. Is it a phone? He's not sure. She's been tapping on a small gadget for a while. Things look different these days, or new.
Over the years he's noticed electronics have changed. That Gameboy he took off a shelf once looked different when he found another years later. No batteries needed, but an adapter for an electrical socket. He didn't take it. He's slowly being outdated. Simpler things mean nothing.
"It's a Cell," she explains quizzically when he glances more than once. "Cellular phone. I don't know how it really works, but I heard it pings to towers close by. You can do more than make mobile calls. Actually, you don't even have to call anyone anymore. You send a message. They receive it through text." She hands it over for him to take a look.
He doesn't take it, but his brows quirk. "You mean like going back in time, sending telegrams? How's that innovative?" He shakes his head and goes back to taping up a bin in need of fixing up. He thinks society really is strange.
Bella frowns slightly and shrugs. Well, he has a point.
He swallows, looks over at her after a while. She's lost in thought. Was he rude? He doesn't know about pleasantries anymore. Small talk. Hand shakes. Eye contact. He's emotionally thin-skinned. He has no filter.
Her silence tugs at him.
"What else can it do?" He tries. Her eyes cut to him, surprised he inquires at all. She sits up slightly, and a grin plays at her lips. She taps a small thumb over the dark brick. Music whirls around them, mingling with sounds of the woods. A pretty melody plays.
"Pink Floyd," he instantly says. He blinks up at the trees as he listens, smug he got it right.
She smiles. "You know it."
"It's been a while," he says. "I use to have the cassette."
She can't help but laugh at the vintage reference she barely remembers. "Right. Then CDs; compact discs. Now you carry it all here." She wiggles the phone in her hand. "I guess it's why these are so expensive." She rants idly.
He's boggled. He has to ask. "So, your world buys expensive equipment to basically listen to the radio?"
She tilts her head to form that full picture in there. Your world. He's right, it isn't his. It's hers, and it's crazy. She snorts and pinks a little.
"Yeah, I guess."
He tells himself he's not missing much. Not at all. But he listens closely, curiously, as she slowly reveals how it's like out there. He can't help but be blunt when reacting. She finds it so tickling, his expressions, and tries her hardest not to giggle.
Days like these are special and rare since he's so quiet. But when he does ask more, she spills more, and she loves every second of it. It's like telling an alien about earthly things.
Other days they hike up trails he takes when no one is around. Well, she tags along. He needs to warm up his muscles. Summers are for strengthening up for winters. He always needs sustenance, meaning more time finding his next break-in. He'd never go accompanied, but Bella is always there, so he does the light work like staking out and hiking until she gets too tired to continue and heads home.
Once or twice, while they hiked, their hands would collide. Mostly when she walked too close in fear of sounds around them so early in the morning. She wouldn't catch it in hers to hold, but the day a deer appeared and shuffled close, she almost yanked his wrist off. He curled his fingers around hers and pulled her along. He didn't know what else to do.
Summer goes by quickly. Those hiking days are sparse. Bella makes sure to spend time needed around her friends and not run to Edward every chance she gets. She gives him his space. He needs it. Things are tense anyway. Silence is soaked with a new underlining of attraction for her and dread for him. He struggles with this newfound tension and … touches. He breathes easier when she doesn't show up with Tupperware, yet she is all he thinks about when she isn't there.
He thinks of her now as he heads to the water late at night. Not a cricket or howl could be heard. The calm is proof that summer is just touching the edge of a new season. But like every season, he finds ways to bathe in the cool water, even if it's for a few minutes at a time.
He jumps in and stares at his fellow stars. Even they cluster and form constellations collectively. He's alone. He would be the lone star, but the brightest one. That's what Bella thinks as she walks up to the dock she lounges on during the day. She sneaks up and looks down at his clothes. She lets hers join his.
Edward is all eyes watching her daringly shed her dress. She lets her hair loose, and when she floats closely to him, he stiffens. She smiles softly in contrast.
Her head pulls back, and the water soaks her long strands. The peaks of her breasts gently surface as dark water whirls around her. She curves her spine and lets herself float over the water.
Just one touch of his hand, she holds on, and he relaxes. He settles back the same, and he silently introduces her to his nightly secret.
It's wondrous.
He finds himself turning to look at her. Plump lips over her profile. The curve of her nose and wet lashes. Droplets run down her neck to gather on her chest as it rises and falls. Her legs lazily kick, making her navel disappear under bubbles before it appears again with the tiniest pool settling in it.
That is wondrous.
An hour seems to go by, maybe an eternity. He doesn't know which. Her hand tightens and she pulls herself close to him. Their halves float beneath, just barely touching.
"I'm leaving tomorrow," is what she says. "Last day."
His eyes drop to her lips. Bella is all elation inside at that.
"Please take care," she says with a nod.
He blinks up at her eyes and barely responds with a nod of his head.
He watches her pull that dress over her spine and the dip of her slick back. She turns knots in her hair until the droplets slow as they're wrung out.
"I'll miss you, Edward Anthony Cullen." She smiles, leaving him bewildered.
She took the Tupperware for the last time and took with her the atmosphere. He breathed a sigh of relief. A guest who overstayed.
The next summer he braces for her return, glancing at the boulders every morning, yet he never spots her there. She never comes. He doesn't know what to think.
…..