It starts as a soft whistle in my right ear.
The push and pull of consciousness makes me feel as though I'm in a rowboat. I press my face further into my pillow, the silky threads of dreams slowly fluttering away. I wonder if I never open my eyes, will my body ever know the difference between sleep and wakefulness.
The whistle becomes a steady buzz. I'm curious, but determined not to let it get a rise out of me. I flip over on my other side and immediately regret it. My head feels heavy and there is the taste of old pennies sitting on the back of my tongue. The buzzing noise turns into a high pitched ringing sound. I'm starting to worry that this is the start of a seizure when I finally perceive my surroundings clearly.
I shoot up into a sitting position. My head is pounding. That ringing is not just in my head, it's coming from all around me. It is a shrill, damn near heart stopping sound. It is the fire alarm.
"Dad?!" I'm out of bed and racing down the stairs as quickly as my feet can take me. I can tell Charlie is flustered when I trip on the last step and he doesn't bat an eye.
He is standing in front of the oven, coughing and waving a soot-stained oven mitt to clear the smoke that is rising from whatever godforsaken meal he's inadvertently scorched.
I march over and all but push him out of the way. His touch shows me his idea of making cinnamon rolls for breakfast. Unfortunately, his plan backfired when he so ingeniously thought that he could cut the baking time in half if he doubled the temperature of the oven.
With a little more aggression than necessary, I turn the dial back to zero to cut off the heat of the oven. I can't believe that wasn't Charlie's first step. Then, I snatch the oven mitt from him and pull out the charred buns and throw them on top of the stove to cool.
"Open all the windows," I project over the screaming of the smoke detector.
Dejection written all over his face, Charlie moves to follow my order. Meanwhile, I stand up on top of the chair in the dining room and press the middle button to silence the shrieking.
Suddenly, it's quiet and I cringe as I massage my ears. The sound has stopped, but the echo remains in my head.
"What happened down here?" I finally ask when Charlie returns to the kitchen.
He falls tiredly into the chair and rubs his eyes. "I wanted to do something nice for you today."
I can't help but show my annoyance as I pick up one of the hockey pucks from the stove and knock it on the countertop as if he doesn't already know how horribly this morning has spiraled out of control. "Five hundred degrees, Dad? For cinnamon rolls?"
"I thought it'd be done faster!"
My head hangs in my hand and I sigh. "You should have asked me for help."
Charlie now sits slouched in his chair with his arms crossed like a child. "I just wanted you to enjoy your birthday."
His statement leaves me dumbstruck. What day is it? Is it really my birthday already?
"I know you don't enjoy being here," he continues, "and I'm sorry. I know I can be overbearing sometimes. I do what I do because I love you and I worry. But you're right, you've been doing an exceptional job with your diet and taking your medicine. Without much complaint, I might add. I thought you deserved a proper celebration."
I sit in the chair next to his, my frustration melting away into sympathy. "That's really nice of you. I would've been just as happy with a bowl of cereal."
That gets him to laugh a little and I stand to grab two bowls and a box of Cheerios. When I turn around, Charlie is standing too. Something about the way he's looking at me makes me place everything down on the table and wrap my arms around him.
Normally, I would never volunteer any physical touch, but for the first time we are on the exact same page. His feelings don't overwhelm me as our emotions are one and the same. We embrace each other, our unconditional love apparent and reciprocated. It is the first time I've really been able to hug him since the accident and not count the seconds until it's over.
"Happy birthday, Bella."
I chuckle into his chest. "Thank you."
"Let me drive you to school," he says as he pulls away. "I'll buy you breakfast. Anything you want."
"Really?"
Charlie gives me a suspicious look. "Just don't push it."
He ends up getting me a wrap with eggs and spinach as well as a cup of coffee. It was a bit of an argument trying to sway him on the coffee, however we were able to compromise with a small cup instead of a large, and egg whites instead of the yolk.
When we leave the small cafe, we find that dark angry clouds have covered the sky. After making an observation of such, Charlie says, "Be careful on your way home today. They're may be some hail later on."
"No worries," I say as I slide into his cruiser. "Angela's a safe driver."
"Yes, well, sometimes even the best of driver's can be bested by a harsh storm."
Swallowing the lump that forms in my throat, I shift in my seat in an attempt to shake off the tension I feel in my shoulders. "I know, Dad."
He seems to pick up on my unease and glances at me. "I'm sorry. I know that's not a fun memory. But anyway," he changes the subject to my relief, "how is school?"
"Really good actually. I…" I roll my eyes at myself when I feel my cheeks heat. "I made a new friend. At least I think so."
"That's great, honey. You know, if you'd like, we can go out to dinner tonight. Bring your friend and Angela."
"That sounds nice," I say. "I'll ask them."
"I also want to apologize to you, Bells."
I'm surprised by his words and turn in my seat to face him. He doesn't speak right away so I focus on his mind, but he's not thinking clearly in sentences I can understand. I'm only getting flashes of images of me. Carrying the laundry, laughing with Angela in my bedroom, washing the dishes. I wait impatiently for him to put into sentences what he's feeling.
"I've been very unyielding with you these last few years. I know it hasn't always been easy." He looks at me again for a moment before returning to the road. In that instant, the remorse is clear in his eyes. "I want you to know that I see your progress. And I'm very proud of you."
For a fraction of a second, I consider telling him the truth. Only a fraction.
"You don't need me to be a tyrant around the house. I want you to know that I trust you. Maybe we can work together to rethink some of these… restrictions."
I'm genuinely speechless as I stare at him. Is this real?
"Bella? Honey, are you listening? What do you think?" He's waiting expectantly and I hurry to speak before he decides to change his mind.
"I think that'd be great!" I exclaim. "I have been working really hard. I actually have some things that I've really wanted to try, but I was afraid you wouldn't be open to them."
Charlie motions for me to spill, so I do. "Like running. Angela goes on runs in the morning. I'm thinking maybe I could join her."
What if something happens to her when I'm not there? He's thinking he doesn't like it and I almost lose hope when he responds, "Okay, I'd be willing to consider it. Angela would have to be with you the whole time."
"Yes, of course." It's a no-brainer. Angela has been by my side even when I didn't deserve it. I have no reason to believe she wouldn't be anything but excited about this. "How about sleep-overs? At Angela's?"
"Not on school nights." The answer comes easily to him and I'm so happy I feel that I could cry. Except, he's pulling into the school's parking lot and I have to make sure to keep my cool. "We'll talk about this more tonight. Have a good day, today."
I grab my bag that sits on the floor by my feet. "Thank you, Dad. Honestly, this is the best birthday gift you could ever give me. I hope you know that."
He smiles at me and unlocks the doors. "I love you, sweetheart."
"I love you too." I get out of the car and ignore everyone as they gape at the squad car.
As Charlie drives off, I remember why I prefer driving with Angela.
No wonder she's such a loser, her father's probably the strictest…
...I mean that has to be so embarrassing. Poor girl can't even…
I hate five-o. She better not be snooping in my stuff. What a freak.
Everyone gathered together in such a small space feels suffocating. I'm desperately digging in my bag for my headphones. It's the easiest way to block them out when I don't have Angela to connect with.
Eventually, I find them trapped in between pages of my Calculus textbook. Proof it's high time I organized this bag.
When the voices are drowned out with guitar riffs, I relax. It's starting to rain now, but I can't help but smile. Maybe Angela was right all along. Maybe if I'm patient, there will be a time when I can tell Charlie the truth.
I don't get much time to speak with Angela in the morning. We have tests in Spanish and Calculus. It's more of the latter that bothers me most. Math has never been one of my strong suits, even with my talent. In fact, it only makes things more complicated. There are too many numbers dancing around in everyone's heads for me to concentrate on what's in front of me.
But soon enough, I make it through the first half of the day unscathed and my class is dismissed for lunch. I'm about to sit at our table when two hands cover my eyes.
"Don't look!"
Of course, I don't need my eyes to see, but I pretend I don't know Angela's about to place a candle in the middle of the cupcake she's hiding in a plastic container. "Whatever you say, darling."
She removes her hands. "I mean it! No peeking."
I'm laughing now and fight the urge to sneak a look. "I'm not!"
"Okay," she snickers finally. "You can open your eyes now."
I find the chocolate cake on the table with a lit candle.
"Happy birthday, B!"
I sit and blow out the small flame before it draws any attention. "Thank you, Ang. This means a lot to me."
"I know. I'm the best." She flips her hair over her shoulder dramatically and giggles at herself. "So, tell me what happened this morning."
I'm in the middle of recounting her on Charlie's failed attempt at breakfast when Edward sits in the chair across from us. I pause to greet him and as discreetly as I can, toss the candle away from eyesight.
Edward nods in acknowledgment. He had been sitting with us for a week now, so seeing him wasn't a surprise to me anymore.
"Then," I go on, "he's buying me food and talking about how he wants to discuss giving me more independence." When Angela grins at me, I say, "I know, I never thought I'd live to see this day either."
Edward stops playing with his fries to reassure me. "He only cares for your well-being."
"I never thought otherwise," I insist. "It's a breath of fresh air to have Charlie trust me with regular, everyday activities."
"That's amazing, Bella!" Angela gushes as she wraps her pinky around mine. "We should celebrate!"
"Oh, that reminds me." I lick icing off of my fingers. "Charlie invited you both to dinner tonight at The Lodge. Can you make it?"
"Duh." She rolls her eyes like asking was somehow offensive. "There's no way I'm missing my girl's birthday."
Edward's eyes grow wide. "I didn't realize it was your birthday. Why didn't you tell me?"
My cheeks warm again, but I go on as if I don't notice. "It's not a big deal to me anymore. Don't worry, you're not missing much."
"Agree to disagree." His eyes are such a dark brown, they're almost black. I wonder if I've angered him.
"Will you come to dinner with us?" I ask again, hoping it will lighten his mood.
He throws his half-bitten french fry back on the tray as if it's disgusting. "Unfortunately, I won't be able to make it." He glances at the table behind him and I follow his gaze. Three kids sit at the table. Both girls and the larger one of the boys are there. I make a mental note that Jasper is missing while the blonde girl blatantly glares at me.
Pushing down the anger that bubbles in my throat, I turn to face Edward as he carries on. "I have plans at home. A sort of family night, if you will."
He's lying. Or at the very least, exaggerating the truth, but I don't push. Anyone can see that there's a bigger picture here. I trust myself and my abilities enough to know that the truth will come out eventually. So, I smile and reply with, "Not a problem. Maybe another time."
Edward visibly relaxes as I accept his answer. Just as the bell rings, he promises to meet me in Biology.
I take a moment to hang behind and look at Angela.
You really can't hear anything from him?
I shake my head.
"How mysterious," she says aloud.
"Right?" I shoulder my bag and walk with her out of the cafeteria. "I'll wait until he's ready to talk. Whatever secret he has must be secret for a reason."
"Look at you!" Angela nudges my arm gently. "Being all considerate and shit."
I roll my eyes as she laughs.
"It's a nice color on you."
"Whatever," I retort. "You still giving me a ride home after school?"
"Of course. I'll meet you at your locker."
I wave goodbye as she moves on down the hall and I step into the classroom. Edward is there, waiting as promised. I take my seat next to him.
"I've come to realize," he starts, "that I never wished you a happy birthday."
I brush him off with a wave of my hand. "It's really not a big deal."
"Well, it's important to me. Happy birthday, Bella." He smiles but it's not reaching his eyes. They are dark pools of black with gray circles underlining them.
"Thank you." I fiddle nervously with my pen. I'm itching to touch him, desperate to get some kind of feeling from him, but I'm not sure how to initiate it. Of course, the entire time I'm playing with the idea in my head, I find that I've been staring again.
Edward meets my gaze and I realize it's too late to pretend otherwise. But he only chuckles to himself, clearly broken into my weird antics. "You look perplexed."
"No," I sigh. "I just wanted to say…" The words dissolve as soon as they leave my lips and I feel the embarrassment rising from my neck and into my face.
"What is it?" His voice sounds concerned, but his expression tells me he finds the whole ordeal very humorous.
I groan quietly under my breath. Just spit it out, Bella. "I just want you to know that you can talk to me if you want to. You've been a great friend to me when I needed one. So, I'm here if you ever need me. No judgment."
He doesn't respond. I have to wonder if he's just at a loss for words or if I've struck a nerve somehow. Maybe it's a sensitive subject, whatever he won't talk about.
Before I can over analyze it, Mr. Banner starts his lesson. He instructs us to a page in our textbooks. I use the moment to break eye contact from Edward and hide my face behind my hair as I bend down for the book that sits in my bag.
We're directed to work independently on the questions he's handed out to us when Edward finally speaks.
"There is something I wanted to ask you."
I perk up and look at him questioningly. "Um, okay. Sure."
"What is it about being touched that you don't like?"
His question throws me off guard and I'm sure he can read it on my face. He continues, "I don't mean to be rude. I'm only trying to understand."
I don't want to answer, but how can I not after I just told him I'm someone he could confide in? Wouldn't he want the same from me?
"I hope I haven't offended you."
"No, no, not at all," I reassure him. "I'm sorry, it's just a complicated answer, I guess."
He waits patiently for me to go on.
It's because she's a total basket case, Cullen.
It's Lauren. Her thoughts came loud and fast and completely unexpected. It's not that I'd never heard anyone think these things about me. I had actually grown accustomed to it. But for the moment I was talking with Edward, and every other time before when he was around, I've realized that I'd forgotten who I was. I will always be the spaz, the freak, the epileptic. Never normal. Never just Bella.
"Bella, what's wrong?"
The lab table is shaking beneath me again and the textbook in front of me is flipping pages on its own.
I slam the book closed in an effort to hide it and squeeze my eyes shut.
Breathe, Bella. Just breathe.
Except, it's not working. I'm so angry, I feel like screaming. I just need to let it out. I have to let it out.
The whole room begins to shake. I can hear glassware clanking together. The kids in the room are starting to get nervous. One of the more timid girls in the back flat out screams before hyperventilating. I barely recognize Banner's voice as he tells us to get under our desks.
I squeeze my eyes shut. I'm losing control. Where is Angela?
"We have to move." It's Edward. "We're having an earthquake. Get under the table."
I follow his voice, still refusing to open my eyes. There are hot, stinging tears behind my lids and I won't let a room full of idiots see me cry. I put my head in between my knees, using a combination of my hair and my legs as a screen. When I decide nobody can see me, I allow my tears to spill over.
Jesus, Bella, get a grip! Focus. Think happy thoughts. What makes you happy? I can't remember. I haven't been happy in years.
Think harder.
I picture my mother, hair tied back in a yellow bandana. Hairs stuck to her neck with sweat and a grin brighter than the sun itself. She's dancing and singing into the end of the broomstick.
Angela, her head thrown back laughing as we dance around in my bedroom. Our music is so loud, Charlie barges in and rips the stereo plug out from the wall.
Edward. His golden eyes looking into mine and the intoxicating scent of honey and lilac.
The furniture settles back onto the ground. The jangling of glass quiets and I peek my head out to see if I've broken anything. Everyone's looking terrified, but we're all in one piece.
"It's safe," Edward says as if he can read my mind. "You can come out. It's over." He offers his hand, but I disregard it and pull myself back into my seat.
Although our class is the only room that was truly affected, the school ends up suspending classes for the rest of the day. While everyone cheers, I try to ignore Edward as he eyes me suspiciously. I wonder how long it will take him to find that I truly am a freak of nature.
Unable to stand his scrutiny any longer, I follow my classmates out to the hall and toward the lot. Edward is not like my father. He is smart and observant. I know I don't have long before he starts asking questions. I suspect that also like my father, he is not someone I believe I can lie to easily. I'll have to be smart about this.
There's a buzzing in my pocket. Pulling out my phone, I read a text from Angela.
Running behind. Meet you in the car.
Fine by me. I'd really rather not stand around like an open target. Edward is not too far behind me and I won't be caught with my metaphorical pants down. So, I gladly grab my jacket from my locker and make my way outside.
I'm soaked, the second I'm through the door. I contemplate copying everyone else as they run through the lot, but my socks are already squelching in my shoes. There's no point.
Calmly, I walk over to Angela's blue Honda. I try the handle only to find it's locked. Figures.
I peer inside the window. It's hard to see in the rain, but I can just make out the central locking on the driver's side door. Focusing with every ounce of strength I have in me, I tell myself if I can convince an entire school there was an earthquake, then I can unlock one car door.
But of course, nothing happens. I squint my eyes and push harder. It's hard to breathe, but still I push. But the longer I sit here and stare inside this window, the wetter I get. With the water seeping through my clothes, I'm freezing.
Rain suddenly turns to hail and I flinch as one gets me right at the corner of my eye.
Groaning, I smack the window, angrily. "Come on!"
That seems to do the trick. I hear the familiar click of the locks and try the handle again. It's open.
I feel the smallest amount of gratification as I duck inside and wipe the water away from my face as best as I can. When I remove my hands, I stop dead in my tracks when I catch what's in the reflection of the side mirror.
Even through the blustering rain, I can make out Angela's figure. She's talking to someone in a silver Volvo. That can't be the same Volvo?
Whipping around, I stare after her through the rear windshield. Confirming my suspicions, I see her bending down speaking to Edward through his window. What could they possibly be talking about?
Then, she turns and starts jogging across the lot toward me. I'm ready to bombard her with a million questions when I hear it.
His thoughts are loud and panicked, followed by squealing of tires.
Oh, god. Oh shit. I can't stop, I can't stop!
I jump out of the car as I see the van slide into view. I recognize Lauren's asshat of a boyfriend, Tyler, behind the wheel. I have no time to ponder why he had returned to the school after just watching him leave or why he was even driving at this speed. He is desperately trying to get a hold of the vehicle, but he is totally out of control. He's hydroplaning and Angela is smack dab in the middle of his way.
"Angela!"
She sees him coming and she's trying to sprint across the lot, but she'll never make it.
Before I can think it through, I'm out of the car and my feet are moving. I don't know what I plan to do, all I know is I have to get to her. I can't let her get hurt.
When people talk about these moments, they always describe it as time slowing down. But it's not slowing down for me. Everything is happening too fast for me to process. I'm running on pure instinct when I push her behind me and throw my hand out. She's yelling about something, but I can't understand the words.
I'm also very aware of Edward Cullen gaping at the scene, eyes black as night. The larger boy from the lunch table has his hand over his chest as if to keep him from running toward us.
I'm not sure what I expect as Angela and I stand stupidly, waiting for this van to crush us, but it's surely not what I see happen next. There's a tugging sensation in my stomach. Then the feeling rises up through my chest and explodes out of me.
I watch as the metal of the bumper crumples in on itself as if an invisible force has stopped it from coming any closer. The glass of the windows shatter, spraying glass all over me and probably Angela too. With the power of the crash, the van doubles backward. I see the inertia has Tyler's head whipping forward just as the airbag deploys. I know any sane person would have closed their eyes, but I'm so terrified, I keep them wide open.
I'm panting, my arm still extended out in front of me. Was that me? Oh, God. What is happening?
Everyone is screaming. Some of them run toward the wreckage, calling out to Tyler. Others stay behind, phones by their ear, no doubt calling for help. I should call for help too. I should do something, but I can't move. Where is my phone? Where are my hands to reach in my pocket?
Angela comes into view then. She is in front of me. I see her hands on my shoulders, but I can't feel them. I can't even feel her emotions. I feel nothing. No, something. What is that? It feels like jello.
Her mouth is moving. I can't hear her voice, but I can read her lips.
"Are you hurt?"
"Of course not," I try to say, but my lips feel so chapped they are stuck together. All of a sudden, I feel woozy. The world is spinning as if I were just thrown into a snow globe.
"Oh, no." I'm falling backwards and Angela tries to catch me, but I'm already on the floor. "Bella? What's happening?"
There is a giant black spot that obstructs my vision. It's changing color from black, to blue, to green and then back to black. It looks as if I've been staring at the sun too long, but it's been raining all day.
"Bella!" It's a velvety smooth voice calling my name. He sounds beautiful.
"Help! I can't lift her."
Suddenly, the asphalt disappears from beneath me. Through my splotchy vision, I recognize Edward.
"It's alright, Bella."
It is the last thing I hear before I succumb to darkness.
