Thursday night, Edward finds me hunched over the overheated ticking time-bomb, also known as my laptop. The damn thing is nearly a decade old and ran the same way it looked. Like a piece of junk.
"Come on!" With a lack of patience, I harshly button mash random keys on the keyboard when the screen gets stuck on a loading page. "Stupid thing."
I reach to my nightstand for the glass of water that I've placed there and out of my peripheral vision, I see the yellow curtains rustle as a cool breeze catches the bare skin of my arm that is uncovered by my comforter. I don't need to turn my head to know Edward has just let himself in.
The bed dips under his weight, as he slides in the small space I've left for him behind me. His cold frame, colder from the night air, raises goosebumps on my shoulders as he settles against my headboard.
"What are you working on?" he asks quietly.
Surrendering to the spinning wheel of death, I push the computer aside and lean back against Edward, ignoring how his body stiffens under me. I look up at him, wondering if maybe he is hungry, but find freshly sated, golden eyes looking down at me.
"I'm trying to send an email," I respond, "after my mother not-so-subtly informed me, she had been reaching out. But this piece of crap takes forever to do anything."
Edward smiles at me softly, before moving his head down ever so slightly. He hesitates for a moment, but not in the way that is romantically required when a man kisses a woman. He pauses, as if to silently ask himself if he is still in control of himself or if this is this the natural instinct taking over.
Of course, I already know the answer. Still, I wait patiently for him to come to it himself. And when he moves again, I make sure not to waste the opportunity and capture his lips with my own.
Slipping my fingers gently into his hair, I hope he understands my wordless request of deepening the kiss, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he opts to end it quickly, returning to his spot on the headboard while I try to recollect my bearings.
I feel the tingling in my cheeks and let it spread down my body while I stare at him in a daze. I'm sure he can hear the shuddering of my breath, but I do my best to hide it from him anyway.
"Are you alright?"
It seems to be such a silly question for him to ask. Can't he see how stupidly dazzled I am by him? Or is he confusing my racing heart to be of a mortally dangerous kind instead of a hormonal-teenager kind?
"Huh?" I guess I'm still incapable of forming words.
Chuckling to himself, his smile widens as I discreetly place the cool side of my hand on my cheek in an attempt to clear the fuzziness in my head.
"You sounded upset earlier," Edward explains. His eyes flicker toward my computer, which has now finally loaded the page to tell me my email has been sent successfully. "Won't you tell me what you're thinking? Not knowing is still so strange for me."
"You know," I begin, recalling a rather snarky conversation I'd had with Angela a while back, "I'm told this is what it's like for everyone else."
"And?"
"And," I continue after rolling my eyes, "I'm wondering when it will be my turn to pick your brain."
With a faint smile, he acquiesces. "Fine."
Perking up, it's impossible to hide the excitement in my face. "Really?"
"Sure," he agrees. "I'm thinking I want to know what made you so upset earlier."
A deep frown settles on my face. "That's hardly fair."
"Bella." Edward leans forward, so close that I can feel his cool breath tickling my ear. He whispers low enough that I almost don't hear him. "You're stalling."
Sighing, I shut down my laptop and place it on the small desk that sits by my rocking chair. Uncharacteristically for Forks, the past few weeks had been very eventful. I'd been juggling hiding my abilities from Charlie, hiding my pseudo investigation of the now-not-so-mysterious Edward Cullen from Angela as well as training with Edward's family that I'd forgotten about something else that also earned the high-priority status.
"Renee asked me a while ago if I wanted to move back in with her," I told him. There's a sea of emotions swirling in my chest so fierce, it keeps me from looking him in the eye. "Back in Phoenix, I mean."
Edward doesn't respond, and I silently berate myself for ruining the mood. But then he surprises me and says, "You miss her."
"So much," I admit. "I just wish I wasn't so afraid."
Faster than I can acknowledge, he's tucked a small tuft of hair behind my ear and lifts my chin up to meet his gaze. In a blink of an eye, I find myself lost in a pool of blazing topaz.
"I don't want you to feel afraid," he says.
Giggling at his misunderstanding, I gently pull myself away to break the spell he so easily puts me under. But even swept up in his dazzling features, I don't miss the fact that he's said he doesn't want me to be afraid instead of I shouldn't be afraid. "That's not what I meant, but that's very sweet."
"What are you afraid of then?" he asks genuinely.
"I'm afraid of things changing," I answer, honestly. "Or that they'll stay the same. Renee wants me to 'come out' so to speak if I move to Phoenix. She thinks that putting distance between myself and Charlie will somehow make things better."
"But, you don't agree."
It was an innocent assumption, but it seems to trigger something in me and all of a sudden, I'm standing up and pacing in front of the bed. "I mean, that's just absurd, right?! Just because life got better for her after she ditched him doesn't mean it's the same for me!"
"Bella—"
Whatever he's about to say goes unnoticed as I continue to pace a hole in a floor and seethe. "You know, she calls herself a free spirit, but she's in denial! What she really is is flighty! I can't tell you how many times she moved us up and down the west coast because she found her new calling. She shuffles from experience to experience as if life is a buffet and she's trying to get a little bit of everything onto her plate! First it was instructing yoga, then it was photography and—oh! My favorite was joining that stupid minimalist hippie commune. Tell me, how do you justify living in a trailer in the middle of the woods with an eleven year old?!"
The long forgotten cup of water that had been sitting on my nightstand suddenly explodes, tossing small fragments of glass and water everywhere. I barely have time to cover my face before it all comes raining down.
Edward freezes, unsure if he should move toward me to make sure I'm alright or duck out the window before the heavy and panicked footsteps finish trampling up the steps.
"I'm fine," I hiss at him urgently. "Go!"
He doesn't need more affirmation than that and disappears out the window just as Charlie barrels through my bedroom door.
"Bella, what happened?" Quickly closing the distance between the two of us, he spots the shattered glass on the floor and reaches for my pair of sneakers on the other side of the room. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine," I say as I cover my bare feet and carefully side step the mess I've made. "It was an accident."
"I'll get the broom," he announces. When he returns, he asks, "Who were you yelling at anyway?"
"Uh…girl talk," I stammer. "With Angela. Sorry, it got a little heated."
Satisfied with his cleanup, Charlie empties the dustpan into my tiny wastebasket and busies himself with tieing the bag shut while he sorts through his thoughts. I feel guilty listening to him work through how he wants to ask me what's got me so worked up.
"Sweetheart, I understand if you're more comfortable reaching out to Angela than your old man, but…" He pauses to clear his throat and I can't help the warmth that fills my cheeks. "I want you to know that you can talk to me."
Finally standing up, he meets my eyes and I have to look away as the remorse swells in my belly. "I know, Dad."
"I mean it, Bells." His left hand gently grazes the skin above my elbow, catching me by surprise. I'm overwhelmed with the anxiety he feels and have to swallow the sentence that threatens to come out of my mouth.
I'm not who you think I am.
"You can talk to me about absolutely anything," he finishes.
I have to blink multiple times to keep the tears at bay. Not trusting my voice, I nod my head and hope it's enough for him.
Apparently, it is. Charlie removes his hand and I release the breath I didn't know I was holding. He bounds down the steps and I quietly close the door behind him as cold hands sweep my hair away from my face and back behind my shoulders.
Only then, do I let the salty tears fall down my face and sting the small cut I've gnawed into my bottom lip. Edward holds me tight and doesn't say a word. He lets me have my moment of quiet, even though I know there are probably a million questions bubbling just beneath the surface.
He moves us back to my bed and lets me place my head on his chest as he rubs soothing circles on my back. He continues to stay silent as I cry into his shirt. It's not until the fabric is thoroughly soaked that I speak.
"I just want to be normal."
I wake up to the shrill cry of my alarm the next morning. My room is dark, the sun still
hovering just under the horizon. Reaching over lazily, I wave my hand in its general direction until I feel it brush under my fingertips. I don't remember falling asleep, and sigh heavily. My shoulders ache with the movement and after a small assessment, I find that my whole body aches as well. The muscles are stiff, as if I hadn't moved an inch the entire night.
Stretching out my limbs, I roll over to my side, but come to a screeching halt when I come in contact with a cold and solid wall.
Sitting up straight, I try to blink the bleariness from my eyes so I can focus on whatever this strange obstacle is, but before I can panic further, two familiar hands cradle the side of my face.
"It's just me," Edward says in a soothing tone. "You're alright."
I have to clear my throat multiple times to be sure my voice won't come out in a croak. "You stayed?"
I can see him more clearly now. Hair disheveled, though not out of the norm, tear stains replaced for wrinkles all over his gray T-shirt and pale lips stretched tight over his mouth. For as long as I'd known Edward, I could never break through his wall of obscurity. Thoughts and feelings totally blocked off from me, I always felt at a loss when it came to understanding him.
But in this moment, as I stare into those sparkling amber eyes, the only color in this room, I recognize the emotion that swims underneath the irises. Anticipation. He's waiting for me to break down again.
Embarrassment and guilt battle each other in my sternum, both fighting to take control of my body. I break eye contact with Edward while my emotions deck it out in hopes he can't see through to my inner turmoil.
"Bella—"
"I—I'm fine," I splutter, eager to interrupt him. Guilt finally stakes claim and I take a deep breath to settle my stomach before I turn back to face him. "Really, I'm okay."
Edward reaches out to stroke my hair and I work hard to not think about how terrible I must look right now. "Are you sure? I've never seen you so hysterical before."
Rolling my eyes at his choice of words, I say, "You have, actually. On my birthday. I nearly blew up the school."
"You can't be so hard on yourself." In my head, I'd always described his voice as soft and velvety. Almost like music, even. But the way he speaks to me now, I can't help but think of my father as he gives me an execrable excuse of a pep talk. "The more you practice, the more control you'll have over your gifts."
"You sound like my dad," I spit at him bitterly. "Or worse, like Alice." Logically, I know he's done nothing wrong, but I can't help this feeling of spitefulness that takes over me. This desperation to break something else—someone else before it breaks me.
"Speaking of Charlie," he goes on, ignoring my attitude, "he's waking up."
Already having picked up on that, I give Edward a questioning look. I'm looking for any evidence of hurting his feelings, but his eyes are back to closing me off again. I can see the emotions swimming in there, but no longer have any idea of what they are.
"Skip school with me." The words come out before I can truly process them, but in a desperate effort to let Edward know it's not him I'm upset with, I'm extending an olive branch. Or by the look on his face, wildly flailing it and missing.
I'm about to let it go, pretend I didn't say anything at all when he responds with, "To our meadow?"
The wide smile that spreads over my face is all the answer he needs.
"Where were you today?"
Angela tosses her tote bag on the floor behind the couch, next to Alice's more elaborate duffel bag. I didn't understand the need for so many clothes for a one-night sleepover, but it's just so Alice, I'm not sure why I was expecting anything less.
"Oh, um…" My eyes glance over to the all-knowing pixie, who wears an impish grin as she curls up on the sofa. "A mental health day."
"With Edward?" Angela challenges.
My cheeks heat up and again, I break away from her gaze. It's not technically a lie, is it? But the fact that I have to ask myself this makes me wonder when exactly lying to Angela became such a necessity.
To my relief, she begins to laugh and it's only then that I raise my head to look at her again.
"Relax," she says through a fit of giggles, "I'm just teasing."
"Oh," I respond, stupidly.
Before I can make even more of a train wreck of myself, Alice jumps in then, holding a variety of nail polishes in her hands. "So, who's going first?"
Ten minutes later, I've got my toes separated by big, clunky prongs of silicone and a matching set of pink nails.
"You know, I'm not sure hot pink is my color," I say to Alice as she paints a more subdued peachy tone on Angela.
"It's watermelon red," she says with authority, "and just because you don't like it doesn't mean that it doesn't like you. You look gorgeous, so be quiet."
"Aw, go easy on her Alice," Angela speaks from beside me. "She's not a girly-girl, you know that. Why don't you give her a color she likes? You like blue, right?" She addresses the last question to me and I smile gratefully at her.
"Blue is cute."
Alice pouts at the two of us and if her skin weren't made of stone, I'd say I can see her bottom lip quivering. "After all that hard work?"
"If it makes you so happy," I start to appease her, "then, I'll wear it. Just for you."
"Yay!" She giggles with excitement, the sound reminding me of small wind chimes. "It really does look great on you. Edward will love it."
"Oh, please." Our attention is brought back to Angela as she pshaws. "That kid would find a paper bag attractive if she wore it. He's totally head over heels for her."
"Of course he is," Alice responds easily. "Who wouldn't be?"
Blushing from the compliment, I busy myself with taking away the separators and wiggling my toes as the blood rushes back into them.
"We should watch a movie tonight!" Alice chirps excitedly.
Shaking my head at her, I tell her, "We can't."
"Why?"
Haven't you heard? I hear Angela quips silently. Bella's posing as an epileptic.
Shooting her a glare, she offers me an apologetic shrug.
Sorry.
Knowing that Angela doesn't have full control over the thoughts that come to her, I turn back to Alice, who pretends not to know we're having an unspoken conversation. "Charlie doesn't let me watch TV. It's a trigger."
"How about a board game instead?" Angela suggests.
After too many rounds of Apples to Apples, we tire ourselves out and decide to call it a night. But after tossing and turning, I find that sleep without Edward is futile. So, I sit up in the dark room to find Alice not in her sleeping bag, but in the kitchen. The light over the stove is the only source of light.
Tiptoeing around Angela's sleeping body, I quietly take a seat next to Alice who is examining her newly polished nails in the dim light.
"She do a good enough job?" I ask, knowing there's no need to announce my presence.
"For a human, she has incredibly steady hands," Alice praises. "I'm impressed."
She doesn't say much after that and I nibble at the loose skin on my bottom lip as I think of something else to say. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm great." Alice turns to me, a slight frown in her brows as she looks at me. "Why do you ask?"
"You can't sleep?"
She cracks a smile. "What, Edward never told you? We don't sleep."
"At all?"
"Not a blink."
"Oh." I say it a bit too loudly, and look over my shoulder to make sure Angela is still sound asleep. After watching her stir for a moment, I return my gaze to Alice. "He mentioned it, but I thought it was more of an Edward thing, not a vampire thing."
Chuckling softly, she says, "He is the brooding type, isn't he?"
Foregoing her statement, I apologize to her. "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
Rolling my eyes at myself, I gesture towards the living room, filled with make-shift sleeping bags. "I wouldn't have invited you to a sleepover when you can't even sleep. I feel so stupid."
"Don't. I'm having a great time, honestly."
Again, ignoring her nobility, I stand from the table and head toward Charlie's coffee maker.
"What are you doing?" I can feel her eyes following me.
"I'm staying up with you," I say as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't want you to be bored."
"Just because I can't sleep," she begins, "doesn't mean you shouldn't."
Reclaiming my spot next to her, I shrug. "I hardly sleep as it is. It's not a big deal."
"If you say so," she retorts, unconvinced.
When the kettle boils, I pour the coffee, smiling softly when I notice Alice is watching me again. I don't say anything while I reach for the sugar and creamer and pause to test it before coming back to the table. It's not when I catch the grimace on her face that I acknowledge her. "What?"
"It smells like tar," she comments.
I have to cup my hand over my mouth to stifle the laughs that erupt from me.
"Bella, that can't be healthy for you," she goes on.
"You've never drank coffee before?" I ask when I've got my chuckling under control. "I mean, in your human life?"
She shrugs, blandly. "Who knows…?"
Sipping my hot cup of tar, I gaze at her questioningly. "You mean, you don't remember?"
"Unlike my adopted siblings, I have no memory of my human life," she tells me. "I just remember waking up one day with...the craving and images of what I thought were a dream of Carlisle. I know now that it was a vision."
Completely enthralled in her story, I sit up straighter, thoughts of sleep long gone. "Holy shit, Alice."
"Weird, right?"
"You must've been so scared," I mumble more to myself than her.
She's silent for a moment as she studies me. "I love you, Bella."
Her words catch me off guard and I'm left staring at her with my eyes wider than a goldfish. "What?"
Alice snickers at my reaction and shoves me playfully. "You're supposed to say you love me too."
Shaking my head to clear it, I can't help but laugh at myself too. "I do love you, Alice."
"I know." She's smiling, but I can sense the gravity in her words. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course," I answer immediately.
"Do you know the reason we feed on animals?"
"Because you're good people?"
A dark shadow falls over her eyes. "The real reason."
Feeling the intensity of her mood, I make a stupid joke. "I don't know, animals taste better?"
"Ha-ha, very funny." She shifts in her seat to face me before continuing. "They're actually disgusting, I'll have you know. But it keeps us strong."
"So, tell me then." I try to keep my voice steady, but I can't help but feel anxious about what she's about to tell me. "What's the reason?"
"Carlisle believes that suffering is part of the beauty of life, that our resistance to human blood humbles us. He's spent the majority of our lives teaching us that the human lives we pretend to have are to be treasured. Don't get me wrong, he's right, but sometimes it's just so hard when you have to listen to all those selfish imbeciles complain about their selfish problems! I mean, seriously, all the problems this world has, more than half of them are man-made. They care about nothing but themselves. And when the going gets tough, it's not about failing gracefully, it's about taking as many people as you can out with you." She ends in a huff and is quiet for a moment. Just when I think she's done, she looks up and says, "And then I met you. You reminded me that Carlisle is right. That as much hate and destruction humans cause, they're also capable of love and compassion.
"You know, when I first saw you, it was in a vision. I knew we were going to be friends, but I didn't want to like you. I spent a long time trying to escape my own future, but it was inevitable. Then, I saw how happy you were going to make Edward and I decided to bite the bullet and just try. I'll just introduce myself, I thought to myself. And Bella, I can't tell you how happy I am that I did."
I pull her into an embrace, not caring that the action causes me to awkwardly lean over the small space in between our chairs. "You're a good person, Alice. Vampire or not."
"And that," she whispers, "is exactly why I love you so much. You have no idea how badly I've needed to hear those words."
Pulling away to get a good look at her, I say, "And I'll tell you as often as you need me to."
"Thank you, Bella."
Clasping our hands together, I smile at her. "That's what sisters are for."
