When I wake, my vision is blurred by the bright fluorescent light above me. I need to blink a few times before I can focus on anything. I recognize the smell of sterilization. I've been here enough times to know immediately where I am.
I'm in the hospital. Did I have a seizure? Probably. Charlie's going to freak out. I look around for my phone and find it on the table next to me. I'm about to grab it and call my father before he has a coronary when I hear the door to the room open.
"You're awake." A tall man in his early thirties walks in. He has a soothing smile and blond hair. He almost looks like a model, slender but muscular. However, his coat and stethoscope tell me he is a doctor. He must be new, given his age. Also, I've never seen him before. I frequent this place often enough, I practically get Christmas cards every year from the staff. "My name is Dr. Carlisle Cullen. How are you feeling?"
"Any relation to Edward Cullen?" My question comes out before I can help myself.
Not seeming to mind my discourtesy, he says, "Yes, Edward is my son. Are you two friends?"
I nod my head, but it's a mistake as I get a wave of nausea soon after. "I don't feel well."
"You've had quite the day today." Carlisle grabs a syringe from one of the cabinets behind him and gracefully attaches it to the IV that sticks out from my left arm. "I'm giving you something for the nausea, but otherwise you seem in good shape. It seems you've only over exerted yourself. Try to relax."
"There was a car crash, I think." I have my eyes closed in an attempt to keep from vomiting all over myself. "Was anyone hurt? Do you know?"
"I can promise you that no one is majorly injured." He lets go of the IV and before I can refuse, he reaches out to touch my face. When his fingers graze just under my chin, I prepare for the onslaught of images, but they never come. His hands are cold, making me jump slightly, but there's nothing. No feelings. No thoughts. Did I lose my power? "You were all very lucky," he says.
I'm silent then. I'm focusing hard, but it's making me nauseous. I can't hear anything. What's happened to me?
"Rest." He senses my anxiety and gently pushes me to lie down. "Your body needs it."
"Where are my friends?" I ask tiredly. "I was with Angela and Edward. My dad?"
"We called Chief Swan shortly after your arrival," Carlisle responds. "He'll be here soon. Your friends are waiting just outside. I can call them in as long as you think you're up for it."
"I want to see them."
"Alright. Let me check your vitals, please." It's not a question, but he's polite enough to wait for my consent before pulling out a penlight and shining it in my eyes. I follow the pen as he moves it up, down and sideways. "How long has it been since your last seizure?"
"It'll be a year next month," I reply automatically. Even discombobulated, I remember the date.
"That's very good," he says impressively. "You're taking your medicine?"
I'm not sure why his question makes me nervous. "Y-yes, of course."
His gaze lingers for an extra second before he nods. "I'll bring in your friends. Once your father is here, you should be set to go home."
"Thank you," I say as he exits the room.
With the room empty and quieter than I'm used to, I'm almost ready to panic when I hear her. She's flustered and scared, but I can't help but feel relieved when she bursts in and scoops me into her arms.
"Bella! Omigod, omigod, I was so worried!" Angela is squeezing me hard and I can see the events playing in her head from her perspective. The van, the tires screeching, the crash, the glass and me passing out in the middle of the lot. It's all incredibly staggering, but soon Angela lets go. "Sorry, sorry, I forgot. I just—aw, Bella!"
I grab her hand and try to calm her as best I can in my exhausted state. "Everything's okay, Ang. I'm so sorry for scaring you. Are you alright?" I notice a small cut by her right eye. I can see it's from a small piece of glass that nicked her, but it's still worth asking.
She visibly calms and sits on the edge of the bed. "Yes, I'm fine. Just some minor cuts and bruises. You saved my life, B. How did you do that?"
It doesn't even seem real. Like what happened earlier this afternoon was all a dream. "I'm not sure. It just came out of me. I could have really hurt someone."
"But you didn't." Her tone is firm and her eyes are serious. "Don't you dare go and blame yourself. Tyler and I would both be dead if it weren't for you."
"How is he anyway?"
Angela shrugs and adjusts her glasses. "A bit of whiplash. A tiny cut on his forehead. He's fine, Bella. Just a bit shaken up."
My stomach turns again as I think of a pair of onyx-colored eyes. "Edward? Is he here too?"
"Oh, um—"
"I'm here." Edward interrupts her as he leans against the doorframe. "How are you feeling?" His eyes are still tiny black holes. Gray circles now turning to a shade of blue. He looks absolutely terrible.
"Good." I sit up and try to straighten out my still-damp clothes. "Thank you for helping me."
He walks in then and stands a small distance away from the bed. "Of course."
This is awkward.
I nearly laugh aloud at Angela's thoughts, more just out of relief I haven't lost my abilities, but also because I'm so happy she's safe.
"Angela." Edward speaks again, this time with more gravity in his voice. "Would you mind giving us a moment alone?"
Angela glances at me, amusement and a bit of uncertainty in her face. Do you need me to stay?
"It's okay, Ang. I'll find you in a minute."
With another look from Edward to me, she offers an encouraging smile and leaves us alone. I hear her footsteps down the hall. Even when she falls out of earshot, Edward waits until her thoughts are just out of range to speak. There's a nervous fluttering in my stomach when he steps closer.
"Bella." His dark eyes are profound, his face as hard as stone. "What happened out there?"
I'm nervously picking at a hangnail on my thumb. "You saw it. Tyler almost crashed—"
"Almost," he accentuates. "He almost crashed. He was headed right for you."
My heart is beating hard in my chest and I fight to control my breathing. "Something must have slowed him down."
"Bella, please." Edward scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Please don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying!" Except, I'm sure my voice gives it away. I'm trembling and there are tears pooling in my eyes. "I don't know what happened! Okay, that's the truth. I don't know."
"You're hiding something."
I scoff, an attempt to be angry, but the truth is I'm scared to death. "I could say the same about you."
He winces as if I've just punched him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah?" I laugh, more out of fear than anything. "It takes one to know one. I've never pushed you to talk about your crap, so why don't you give me the same courtesy, huh? Maybe, it's none of your business."
Edward turns, about to leave the room when I call out to him.
"Wait!"
His back to me, he turns his head slightly.
I swallow the sob that rises in my throat. "Please don't tell anyone what you saw."
He says nothing at first. Then, "It's best we stop being friends." His words hurt more than I could ever prepare myself for. "It's for your own good." And he's out the door.
The second he's gone, I break down. I know he can probably hear me, but it doesn't matter. Edward thinks I'm a monster. I am a monster. How could I ever think otherwise? How could I think that people would be accepting of this? It's a curse. I hate that I have it and I hate that I'm so desperate to keep it.
Once Charlie finds out, I'll be truly alone then. Not even Angela will be able to keep me off the streets. Or out of the asylum.
Tears soak the collar of my shirt. Sobs wrack my shoulders. I am loud, but I am too broken to care. I let myself cry for what seems like forever until I feel arms around me.
Her touch engulfs me of images of a plane ride as well as the overbearing sense of dread when there is a phone call about my accident.
"Bella, sweetie." Her voice has a soft sing-song tone. "It's alright, now. I'm here."
"Mom…" It's all I'm able to get out before a new round of tears take over.
She holds me tighter, and I let her. It's been months since I've seen her last and it pisses me off that I'm wasting time blubbering like a baby instead of making use of our limited time. But the little girl in me still needs to cry herself out and I'm too far along to try and cut her off.
I must have cried myself back to sleep because when I wake up, I'm back in my bedroom. Angela is sitting next to me with her legs crossed. She is by the end of the bed and perks up when she sees my eyes open.
"Hey, B." She leans closer. I can tell she wants to touch me, but she is refraining. "How are you feeling?"
I sit up and rub my eyes. They feel dry and crusted with old tears. "Like shit."
She nods, expecting as much. She's thinking it must be worse if I'm being honest. "Do you want to talk about it?"
My eyes burn again, surprisingly. I didn't think I had anything left. "I was right. Edward Cullen is a jackass. I never should have trusted him."
That asshat is dead. "What did he say?"
I shake my head, sighing. "He knows."
Angela's eyebrows shoot up. "He knows?"
"Not everything, but he has an inkling." I swallow and wince at how dry my mouth is. "He doesn't want to be friends anymore, Angela."
She moves to hug me, but I shy away from her.
"I'm not ready to be touched right now, I'm sorry."
Shaking her head, she responds, "Don't ever be sorry. Not for saving my life today and certainly not for being yourself. You don't owe anyone an explanation. If Edward Cullen can't see how amazing of a person you are, then that's his loss. I love you. I will always be here."
I find myself crying again, and this time I let her hug me. She's angry. More than angry. She's livid. After a moment, her emotions become too much, so I let go and she backs away, picking up on my cue.
"I have another gift for you." Her voice is so light, I can almost believe she's not upset anymore. "Maybe, it will make you feel a little better."
"Honestly," I start, "I think I've had enough surprises for one day."
"Well, too bad!" She snags something out of her bag that sits on the floor and tosses it in my lap. It's Washington state's driver's guide. "You know with everything you told me this morning, I thought maybe we can convince Charlie to let you practice. I can help you study."
My tears are still coming, but they've slowed considerably. "Really? You think he'll let me try?"
"Getting your permit is the easy part," she says. "We can get it this weekend, if you'd like. You know, Washington only requires you to be seizure-free for six months."
"I'll have to talk to Charlie first." I pick up the booklet and sift through the pages. "But this is great, Ang. Seriously. You're the best."
She giggles and adjusts so she's lying next to me. "Want me to spend the night with you? I already got the okay from my parents."
I nod. "Please. I don't want to be alone."
She snuggles next to me underneath the covers.
"What time is it anyway?"
Pulling out her phone, she says, "Just after six."
When I don't say anything, she goes, "Did you know your mom flew in this afternoon for your birthday? She's downstairs if you want to see her."
I wipe my eyes and sniffle. "I've missed her so much these last few months. I'm just not ready to—"
"Honey?"
I groan internally and shut my eyes.
Renee squeezes herself onto my tiny twin sized bed and I discreetly bring my feet up to keep from touching her. "Hi, sweet pea."
"Hi, Mom." I fiddle with a loose thread in the comforter. "How's Charlie?"
Sighing, she plays with the split ends of her brown hair. "You know how your father is. He's worried about you. He'll calm down once he sees you're alright." I nod as she pats my leg over the blanket. "You're alright, aren't you?"
Looking up from my hands, I offer a smile, but I'm sure it comes out more like a grimace. "Physically, yes. I'm fine. Dr. Cullen said it's just overexertion."
Renee accepts my answer, but her face urges me to go on. When I don't say anything, she asks, "It's something to do with that boy? The one I saw leaving your room?"
"It's not even worth it, Mom." I shake my head and run a hand through my hair. "I thought he was someone I could be honest with, but it turns out I was wrong. That's all. I'll get over it."
My mother keeps her hand on my leg and gives it a small squeeze. "Don't dwell too much on it. You'll find that lots of people come and go out of your life. But if there's one thing I've learned it's this," she pauses to look me in the eye. "There is always a purpose for everyone you meet. Don't let it hurt you. Instead, try to find the lesson."
"How long are you staying?"
"I'll be here until Saturday night," she reassures me. "Why don't you get some rest? I can handle your father for one more night."
"Thanks, Mom." She kisses me on the cheek and I brace myself. I mostly only get her feelings of compassion, but there is a small flash of an image that I don't quite grasp right away. It's not until I'm asleep that I recognize it as a collection of tarot cards.
