Chapter 10- School Daze
February 7, 2005
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Bright and early Sunday morning, Charlie threw on his fly-fishing vest and headed out to a secluded stream for the day. I, on the other hand, chose to don my beloved sweatpants and ate ice cream on the couch while I glowered at the overcast sky outside of our living room window. He came home with a huge trout and a great fishing story to tell his colleagues at work on Monday. All I wound up with was an empty Häagen-Dazs container and a chocolate stain on my favorite t-shirt.
But I would be lying if I said that I didn't think about you-know-who at all that day. I kept running through the events from the night before, wondering how Edward went from being an acquaintance I speak to only occasionally to my study partner who will soon see Charlie's embarrassingly large collection of animatronic fish that sing songs like "Don't Worry Be Happy" that hang in the living room. If Edward ever lived under the assumption that the Swans are a classy family, he will soon discover for himself how mistaken he is.
Midway through my pint of ice cream, I realized that we forgot to nail down the details of our tutoring schedule. We agreed to meet twice a week yet did not specify what days they would be. Since I have no life outside of school, I have no preference. I'll have to bring this up to him the next time I see him.
When Monday morning rolls around, I slip behind the wheel of my truck and drive as slow as a tortoise towards Forks High. I'm in no hurry to get there. To be perfectly honest, I am intentionally running late. My first class of the day just so happens to boast Mike, aka Sir Talks-A-Lot, as one of my classmates and he has unfortunately made it a habit to talk with me before class begins. Normally, I don't mind hearing his mindless chatter at eight o'clock in the morning. Since he takes complete control of the conversation and rarely expects for me to contribute, I can let my mind fall into a semi-conscious state. It's almost like taking a catnap. All I have to do is mumble "oh?" and "really?" every so often while nodding my head. It's a great way to rest before school starts.
But I know that today will probably be different. Mike might be asking me questions about what happened Saturday night and expecting me to explain. Edward tried to assure me that what I tell Mike and Jessica about that night doesn't matter. He claimed that they are too occupied with themselves to pay much attention to the details of my excuse, but I don't fully buy that hypothesis. When Jessica is interested in something, she grills her victim with endless questions and soaks up the gossip like a sponge. Later she dissects what she has collected and shares it with everyone she knows. And since I left with Edward the other night - the boy she obsesses over every single day - I'm sure she is dying to interrogate me.
In defense for what is surely to come, I spent some of my Sunday afternoon coming up with a plausible back story in case Jessica or Mike asks about my imaginary Aunt Beatrice. I decided that Beatrice is a seventy-two year old retiree from an accounting firm in Spokane that sews patriotic quilts to send to disabled veterans, bakes gingersnaps for the holidays, and has a history of gastrointestinal disease. The latter is what I shall say if they ask why she was hospitalized. I figure that gastrointestinal disease is a vague term that could cover just about anything. She could be suffering from heart burn, ulcers, gallstones, diarrhea, or about a dozen other ailments that you normally don't want too many details because of the "ick" factor involved. I'm sure that Jessica and Mike will quickly drop the subject once they hear me describing an elderly lady's struggles with her digestive tract.
After arriving at school, I stay in the parking lot until my truck's clock shows that I have exactly three minutes to make it to class before I would be counted as late. With any luck, I'll walk into first period English right as the bell rings. But even if I'm not lucky, the worse that can happen is that Mike will only have around 60 seconds to talk or question me before the teacher calls for everyone's attention - thereby shutting down any conversation Mike may be trying to have with me.
Either way it goes, I'd say that's a win for me.
After grabbing my things from the passenger seat of the truck, I make a mad dash towards the English building and slip into the classroom roughly half of a minute before class is set to begin. Mike sighs in relief when he sees me walking through the door.
"Hey, Bella! I'm glad to see that you could make it in today," he barks enthusiastically as I sit down at my desk next to his. With that dopey grin on his face, he looks so thrilled by my appearance that I half expect to see a furry, wagging tail pop out from behind him. "I thought that maybe you went out of town to help that relative of yours," he finishes.
"Oh, no," I say with a quick shake of my head, making sure to not look him in the eye. "It turned out to be just a false alarm. My aunt had some gastrointestinal problems that night and thought she was having a heart attack. But she's fine now."
I practiced saying this in front of the bathroom mirror last night until I had it down pat. Although I may not be as impressive of a liar as Edward, I'm proud to say that I recited my fib to Mike pretty well.
"Hmm... Too bad you had to bail so early then," he says musingly, scratching his chin. Without warning, his friendly grin turns leering. It's that same simpering "come hither" look that he sometimes does that gives me night terrors. "Ya know," he slowly drawls, eyeing me up and down. "I think that maybe we should-"
Brrriinngg!
The clanging of the bell cuts him off mid-sentence. Our English teacher immediately launches into the lesson, telling us to crack open our textbook to chapter twenty-three. Grateful for the interruption, I release a pent up breath and allow my posture to relax. Meanwhile, Mike grouchily yanks out his textbook from his backpack and throws it down with a thud onto his desk. His mouth is set in a deep frown as he flips it open to the chapter we are studying.
During class, my knee nervously bounces up and down while my eyes stay glued to the clock on the wall. I can't wait to get out of here. It's glaringly apparent that Mike is still determined to ask me out, and I certainly don't want to be put on the spot when he tries again. I had been hoping that Mike would spend the remainder of the weekend rethinking our trip to Port Angeles. I thought that he was smart enough to pick up on the clues I have dropped like breadcrumbs that say that I am not interested in him. But I guess none of that has occurred to him.
Halfway through the hour, I realize my best bet to save myself would be to just avoid being around him when I am alone. Most people (well, teenagers) want privacy when they ask someone out on a date because, let's face it, being rejected is awful. But having your classmates there to listen in on your failed attempt is even worse. So, as long as I have lots and lots of witnesses around me all day long, Mike will probably feel too uncomfortable to bring the subject up. However, if that doesn't work, I think I will just recycle some of Edward's excuses that he has used on Jessica. They worked on her, so why not try them on Mike, too? I can tell him that I have a doctor's appointment every day until I graduate. As a side bonus to that lie, maybe he'll assume that I have some sort of incurable disease and steer clear of me for a while.
Brrriinng!
At the end of the hour, I'm out of my seat as soon as the bell rings - snatching up my books and fleeing my desk before Mike can utter a single word. While I'm darting out the door, I catch sight of him staring at me, still in his seat with his mouth loosely hanging open. He's probably shocked that I'm running faster now than I do during gym class. Sheer terror will do that to a girl.
I make it to second period Government with no problems. However, once there is only a couple of minutes left on the clock, I remind myself that my next class will be just as stressful as my first. Jessica will be there, and I'm sure that she has a thousand and one questions prepared to throw at me. Knowing her, she'll want to hear every little detail of my time with Edward. I can practically hear her now...
What did you and Edward talk about on the ride home?
Did he talk about me?
How did he look when he left the movie theater? Did he seem sad that he had to leave early?
Did you remind him that I'm single?
Are you sure he didn't mention me?
After Mr. Jefferson dismisses his second period class, I take my time picking up my things since I'm in no hurry to leave. Maybe if I walk into third period Trig right as the bell sounds like I did this morning, it will cut down on the amount of questions she can ask.
When I walk out of the classroom, I see the sidewalks jam packed with students strolling to their next class. I take approximately ten steps in the direction of the math building when I hear someone shouting my name. My shoulders instantly slump in defeat. Turning around, I find Jessica bouncing over with a gigantic smile on her face. In the same amount of time it takes for me to blink once, she is already sliding up at my side while her mouth moves at supersonic speed.
"Hey, I've been looking all over for you!" she squeals, waving her hands all around as we walk. "Where were you this morning?! I hope you don't mind walking to class with me cause there's a million things I gotta tell you! I wanted to call you Sunday but I was super busy and never got the chance. Sorry! But wasn't Saturday night - like - totally awesome?! I can't believe how perfect it was.
"And, oh my god! Did you see how great he looked?" she gushes breathily, shutting her eyes as if she is trying to conjure up Edward's image behind her eyelids. "I mean, I already knew that he's cute and all, but I don't think I ever realized just how hot of a guy he is until I sat right beside him. And he was so sweet! Did you know that when I got scared, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and held me until I felt better? It was like...the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me."
My forehead scrunches together, puzzled by what she is saying. I never saw Edward holding Jessica that night. I saw her grabbing onto him, but never the other way around. So I wonder when that happened? I must not have paid as much attention to what was going on between them as I had thought.
"He held you?" I repeat, nibbling my lip anxiously.
Her mouth stretches into a bright grin, her toffee brown eyes glistening. "Yes! There was this one part where that monster thing popped out and ripped apart some woman and - ugh! - there was so much blood! It was mega gross, ya know? And so scary. I think I screamed like a maniac during that part."
As we walk into Trig and pass by Mr. Varner's desk, Jessica temporarily clamps her mouth shut to keep the teacher from eavesdropping. Though, as soon as we're seated, she starts flapping her mouth again.
"So, anyway, he pulled my face into his chest so I wouldn't be able to see what that monster was doing anymore. And you know what? It made me feel so much better! Like, I felt really safe. And when I was sitting there like that, I realized that I belonged there. It was..." She pauses to dreamily stare off into the distance, her cheek resting in the palm of her hand. "Magical," she contentedly sighs.
I want to be happy for her. Really. She's been pining for Edward for months. She deserves a little happiness in her life. And so what if he held her during that horror movie? She was scared. He just wanted to comfort her.
So why am I feeling queasy?
Vaguely, I notice Jessica's smile falter as she stares back at me. Her head tilts to the side and her eyes sweep over my face. "Umm, Bella?" she says, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. "You're not mad at me, are you?"
My eyes widen in panic. My damn facial expressions must have been advertising what was going on in my head. If Jessica figures out that I like him, this whole town will know before dusk. Including Edward. And if that happens, I might as well hand over my pride, crawl into a hole, and allow myself to shrivel up and die from complete humiliation. There's no way I would ever be able to face him again.
Shaking my head, my lips form a tight lipped smile. "Of course I'm not mad. Why would you think that?" I calmly say.
Jessica shrugs her shoulder, her gaze still analyzing. "Well, he has been hanging out with you a lot. And, ever since you moved here, I've noticed that he's been sitting with you, Angela, and me at lunch more than before." Dipping her head down a bit, her face and voice turn serious. "You know, Bella, if you two have something going on, I'll back off. All you have to do is say the word."
"Nothing's going on. We're just friends," I say quickly.
Her left eyebrow cocks up. "Are you sure?"
I tell myself that I have to make this believable. If I fail, everyone from Ms. Cope in the school office all the way down to Charlie at the police station will get word that Bella Swan has an unrequited crush on Edward Masen. And I would rather watch ESPN nonstop for a week than go through that. It is a well-known fact that fathers are not supposed to know about certain aspects of their daughters' personal life. I prefer having Charlie think that I am going to be single and celibate for the foreseeable future. It drastically cuts down on embarrassing lectures concerning condoms and birth control. Besides, I lived with Mom for seventeen years. I've been through "The Talk" with her several times - mainly because she's so scatterbrained that she forgot that we had the discussion before. I think I have suffered enough.
"I'm positive," I say with a fake smile wider than before.
Jessica visibly relaxes in her chair, a relieved smile appearing on her face. "Phew! I'm so glad you feel that way! I'm not the kind of girl who takes a guy right out from under another girl's nose."
"I appreciate that, but like I said, we're just friends."
She giggles into her hand, her eyes scanning around us before she leans in closer. "He told me that I have soft hair and that I smell nice," she whispers excitedly.
I blink at her a few times, too astonished to speak immediately. I understand that Edward wanted to comfort her during the scary movie, but why would he be stroking her hair and sniffing her? All those times he claimed not to like Jessica, was he lying to me? And if that's the case, why would he even bother?
Clearing my throat, I say, "Oh. Umm. Wow. So what did you say?"
Laughing louder, she rolls her eyes playfully. "I told him to stop buttering me up just so he can steal all of my onion rings! Boys think they can get away with anything as long as they compliment you... You know, since you've never dated before, maybe you should remember that bit of information. I'm practically an expert on boys compared to you!" she giggles, greatly amused by my lack of experience.
My eyebrows smash together again. I don't remember the movie theater selling onion rings. Trust me, I would know if they did. I would have smelled them on Mike's breath. The boy ordered every fried food they served.
"W-what?" I stammer uneasily.
"He kept taking them off of my plate!" she laughs as she pulls her jacket off. "We went to that cute little '50s themed diner down the street from the tourist district to grab something to eat. He kept claiming that he was starving to death, but I don't see how that's possible. He ordered a deluxe burger with everything on it, fries, chicken nuggets, and a huge milkshake. Then he ate half of my onion rings yet still had to ask the waitress to bring him the dessert menu." She shakes her head and fondly smiles. "I don't see how he looks so thin when he eats like a pig."
"You and Edward had dinner together?" I murmur, completely astonished. When did that happen? After he dropped me off at my house, did he rush back to Port Angeles, pick Jessica up, and ask her out?
Jessica shakes her head, her eyes squinting so hard that I can barely see the pupils. "Bella, what are you talking about? I went to the restaurant with Mike."
My head jerks back, startled by the news. "You were with Mike?"
"Well, yeah," she snorts, rolling her eyes. "That's what I've been telling you for the past couple of minutes. Haven't you been paying any attention?"
The tight feeling in my chest loosens ever so slightly. All this time she was talking about Mike. Not Edward. I feel so much better. And more than just a little confused.
"Of course I was listening!" I say quickly as I sit up in my chair. "So...you like Mike now?"
"Yes!" she giddily shrieks. "I used to think he was annoying and immature, but now I know that there's more to him than meets the eye! He's caring. Sweet. And so interesting! Did you know that he single-handedly introduced the Troutinator bobbing lure to the Olympic Peninsula? It's their best seller! I can, like, practically guarantee you that he will be franchising out Newton's Outfitters once his parents retire and he takes over. He's gonna be super rich!"
Twisting my mouth, I try to understand what's going on but I can't. How could Jessica go from worshipping a living, breathing, bronzed idol like Edward to crushing on a guy like Mike that woos you with stories about the sporting goods store? Does she really like hearing about the unfortunate customer that forgot to allow his moist boots to dry and he now suffers from athlete's foot? Because if she does, she may be Mike's soulmate after all.
"Hmm... That's great, but what about Edward?" I ask curiously. "I thought that you liked him."
She heaves out a sigh and twirls a strand of hair around her finger. "He's a great guy, Bella. And, yeah, he's hot." She pauses for a moment, her eyes glazing over as she thinks. "Like, super hot," she breathes out huskily. Shaking her head to clear her brain, she snaps out of her daze and continues. "But it's time for me to face facts. He's not interested in dating and probably never will be as long as he lives here."
Tucking my hair behind my ear, I clear my throat. "So what changed your mind? The other night you seemed so sure that he was warming up to you."
She lowers her voice and leans towards me. "I tested him."
"Tested him how?"
Her eyes scan our surroundings, making sure that no one is paying us any attention before she explains. "You remember that scary part at the beginning of the movie where that guy dies?" I slowly nod my head and she continues. "Well, I figured that if Edward was interested in me, he wouldn't mind if I...got close to him during the scary parts. So I, umm, put my hand on his lap to see what he would do. I thought he would - ya know - not mind my hand being there. But he picked it up right away and put it on the arm rest. At first, I thought that maybe he was just a little nervous about me coming on too strong, so I waited a few minutes and tried something else. This time I told him that I was scared and tried to get him to put his arm around me. But he wouldn't do it."
Her shoulders sag and she sighs. "Later on, after you and Edward left, I moved to sit by Mike and tried to enjoy the movie. But, to be honest, I was kinda down in the dumps. I mean...Edward wouldn't even hold my hand! I thought for sure if I gave him enough time that he would admit his feelings for me. The least he could do that night was give me some hope! But I got nothing! Imagine going after a boy for five months - all the time thinking that he is too shy to admit that he wants to be with you - only to discover that he isn't into you at all... You can't even guess how lonely and depressed I felt."
Jessica dreamily sighs, a smile brightening her face. "Then during a really scary part in the movie, I screamed and Mike put his arm around me! I didn't even ask him to do it! I was, like, shocked, ya know? This is Mike we're talking about - the guy that I've been friends with forever! I was about to throw his arm off, but something stopped me. That's when I realized that it felt nice. He was trying to take care of me and I liked it. By the end of the night, I was a goner... Did you know that Mike's eyes are the same shade as blue Skittles? I was eating some yesterday afternoon and that's when it hit me."
This revelation is making me very uncomfortable. On Saturday night, Mike went from pursuing me to cuddling with Jessica in only a matter of a few minutes. Then, this morning, he was back to going after me again. I guess he doesn't mind who he flirts with as long as they have boobs and a pulse. At least he's not picky.
"So...it's you and Mike now?" I question warily. "And you're giving up on Edward?"
The bell chooses to ring at that moment, signaling the start of Trigonometry class, but we keep on talking since the teacher isn't ready to speak.
"If you're asking if Mike and I are official - then no. But I'm sure that it will be only a matter of time before that happens. We have major sparks going on. I bet that Mike will be begging to go out with me before the month is out.
"As for Edward - yeah - I'm giving up. Like I told you before, he's a nice guy but he obviously isn't into the girls around here." In a quick movement, she raises her nose in the air and haughtily sniffs, "He's from Chicago, Bella. Small town girls like us aren't sophisticated enough for him. I guess we're too plain and boring compared with what he's used to. He's probably waiting for some gorgeous sorority girl that looks like a Playboy centerfold to scoop him up."
Suddenly, her frosty attitude disappears and she barks out a laugh. "Anyway, Edward should be considered strictly fantasy. He's something to keep a girl's brain busy until she finds a boy that's actually willing to cooperate. You can't expect the girl to do all the work in getting the relationship started. The guy should do his part too... Besides, what's the point in dating if your boyfriend is prettier than you?! I think my self-esteem would take a hit. You know what I mean?"
Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I slap on a smile. "Yeah."
Soon thereafter, Mr. Varner passes out our worksheet of trig problems to solve and instructs us to turn it in before the end of the hour. On normal days I despise this class. But today I'm embracing it. I'd rather have complicated math problems to concentrate on than thinking about a fantasy.
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Two hours later, Jessica and I leave fourth period Spanish. Unexpectedly, she comes to a halt right there in the middle of the sidewalk, her unmoving body blocking the other students as they try to walk to the school cafeteria. Her hands fly to her head as her fingers brush through her curls. "Quick! How does my hair look?" she asks as she turns towards me. "Mike might be in there waiting for me. If I look like a mess I need to make a detour to the bathroom."
Roughly, I sigh. "You look perfect." I learned my lesson from the other night. Saying that her hair, clothes, makeup, or whatever is perfect is the only way to go.
Satisfied by my compliment, she smiles and stops messing with her hair. We continue on to the cafeteria and grab our lunch. After we pay for our food, we go sit at our normal table.
Angela is the only person there so far. She's across the table from me while Jessica takes a seat to my left. Angela swallows down what she was eating and kindly smiles at us. "Hey guys. What's up? Did you have a nice time in PA?"
With an excited gleam in her eyes, Jessica takes a big gulp of air - just like what the Big Bad Wolf does before he blows down the house made from straw - and out comes the story she told me earlier. Somehow she manages to condense a whole night's worth of events into a one minute story. It's kind of amazing that she can say so much with a single breath of oxygen. Maybe she should look into a career as a deep sea diver.
Once Jessica's story is finished, I watch as Angela's forehead scrunches together. "Wait... I thought you were obses-... I mean, liked Edward?" she says, looking very confused.
Me too, Angela. Me too...
"It's the dawn of a new day!" Jessica chirps. "Edward's just a friend now. This morning, I told him all about how Mike and I had such a great time together, and he didn't look upset or anything. He looked really, really happy for me. He's a good guy, Ang, but he's just not for me."
I have to hold in a laugh. I bet Edward looked happy when he heard the news. He probably wanted to break out into a song and dance routine once he realized that Jessica would no longer be following him around like a stalker.
Jessica starts yapping about something that happened to them at the restaurant in PA. It's something to do with Mike eating like a three year old and accidentally rubbing ketchup all over his face. Jessica chortles a laugh and calls him adorable.
So it appears that love is blind. That's interesting to know.
While she goes on talking, the chair to my right pulls out and makes a scratching noise on the linoleum floor. My eyes briefly snap shut. I don't know how I am going to handle this. I was hoping that Mike would want to sit by Jessica today instead of me. She is not going to be happy about this...
Opening my eyes, I turn my head a few degrees, expecting to see him sitting in the chair with a cocky smirk directed at me.
But it's not Mike sitting there. It's Edward.
I give him a quick, welcoming smile - one that's profoundly relieved to see that it's him beside me instead of the alternative.
As I'm turning my head back so that I can pretend that I'm still listening to Jessica's story, the empty chair in between Edward and Angela is dragged out too. A short, dark-haired boy with wire-framed eyeglasses slowly sits down. He keeps looking at us girls with wide, frightened eyes - as if he's itching to bolt from the table the moment one of us looks at him the wrong way. I catch Edward staring intensely at him, shaking his head at the nervous boy as though he's silently telling him to stay put. In the back of my mind, I recall Mike telling me a few days ago about a boy that Edward was friendly with. I recognize him from Trig. Ken, I think is his name.
Or is it Glen?
Now that we have male company, Jessica's detailed story about Mike comes to a quick ending. Instead of taking a break from talking, she goes to asking me what she should do for our Spanish project that's due in three weeks.
Meanwhile, Angela starts chatting with the shy boy beside her. He doesn't say much at first. Instead, he listens to her and only says one or two word answers.
"Did Mr. Mason give you that extra credit for writing a report on Faulkner like you wanted?" she asks the boy.
"Yeah," he replies softly while avoiding looking at her directly.
Angela smiles nervously. "That's good... You did a great job on it, Ben. You made a lot of sense when you explained how some of his stories were influenced by his real life."
"Thanks," Ben says, a shy smile tugging at his lips.
While I try to listen in to their conversation, I notice the last empty chair available at our table pull out. Mike unceremoniously sits down. Providence has arranged for him to sit in between Angela and Jessica today, and the latter looks deliriously happy. Jessica is grinning from ear-to-ear.
But Mike? Not so much.
His mouth is set in a hard line as he looks at everyone at the table. Abruptly, his eyes freeze and narrow slightly at the face of the person next to me.
"Masen," he greets coldly.
Surprised that Mike would say anything at all to him, my head snaps to my right to see how Edward is interpreting this unfriendly welcome.
"Hello, Newton," Edward croons, seemingly unperturbed by Mike's hostility.
"Hey, Mike!" calls out Jessica. She's staring at Mike like a lovesick puppy. All that's missing is the slobber.
Mike looks across the room and doesn't even give her a glance. "Hey," he flatly responds after a few beats.
Her mouth lifts into a delighted smile, appearing gratified with the pitifully weak reception he was giving her. "I was just telling Bella about how the rest of our night went," she breathes out. "You know, about how scary the movie was, and how good the food was..."
Mike reaches down to toss a tater tot into his mouth and starts eating his food like a cow chewing the cud. Shrugging his shoulders once, he says in a bored tone, "Yeah, it was OK, I guess."
Then, leaning forward in his seat, he focuses on me and flashes a lewd grin that should only be suitable for people over eighteen. "Though it would have been more fun if Bella hadn't left so early," he adds.
My mind struggles to find something to say. This is exactly what I didn't want to happen. It feels like I have a hundred people staring at me - but in reality it's only Mike, Jessica, and Edward. I need to push the spotlight off of me and onto something else. Preferably back on Jessica and the super-duper fun time she had with him that night.
"Umm... I doubt my absence really put a dent on the evening. It sounded as if you two had a really great time on your own," I reply, squirming in my seat.
"We really did," Jessica agrees while nodding her head up and down like a bobblehead on a car dashboard. She turns to Mike and stares at him with such a longing expression that I feel sorry for her. Having feelings for Mike can't be easy when he's completely ignoring you. "I think we should go back again sometime soon," she proposes with hope evident in her tone.
Mike stuffs in another tater tot and grunts like a caveman instead of giving her a response. He then looks straight at me and says, "Did I ever tell you the story about the time I went to Port Angeles and accidentally went into the wrong theater?"
He begins telling his story as if he is only talking to me. Embarrassed and horrified, I dart my eyes away from him and look down at my food. If Mike keeps lavishing me with attention, Jessica is going to hate me.
While he yaps, I pretend to eat to avoid looking at him, wishing he would notice that I am not exactly hanging on to his every word. Jessica, however, is listening closely to his story of how he watched fifteen minutes of a computer animated movie before he realized that this wasn't the Nicholas Cage flick he wanted to see. She laughs uproariously whenever he makes a lame joke. She asks him questions as if this is the most interesting thing she has ever heard. She sounds like she is enjoying his boring story.
What's wrong with her?
I glance up to find that Mike is looking at her instead of me now. Jessica is soaking up the attention he is giving her, a happy smile on her face as she giggles up at him. It's so obvious that she likes him that Mike would have to be blind not to see it.
I turn briefly to Edward to see how he's taking this turn of events. There's a hint of a smile on his face as he cocks up his brow at me. I feel like we're having a conversation without having to speak. And he's silently telling me that having Jessica fawning all over Mike instead of him is the best present ever.
His green eyes flick away from me and land on Angela and Ben for a little while. His smile grows larger as he watches them. Ben seems to have lost some of his shyness since I last looked at him. He's telling Angela about some Bruce Lee movie he thinks she would like.
Since everyone at the table except Edward and me appears to be occupied, I decide that now is the perfect time to go over our tutoring agreement again. After all, he had all day yesterday to change his mind. There's a chance that he decided to back out of it...
"Edward," I call out, grabbing his attention. His eyes dart back to me and I take a gulp of air to suppress my nervousness. "I didn't realize until yesterday that we didn't decide what days to study on."
"Whenever is good for you is all right with me," he replies, dragging his fingers through his artfully messy hair.
"Oh... Then, how about we start tomorrow after school?" I suggest. I decide that this is better than saying "let's start today!" like I really want to tell him. There's no sense in making him think that I am a freak that is overly excited about having him sit at my kitchen table while he checks my trig homework.
Even though I am.
"I'll need to drop my brothers and sisters off first, but that sounds fine," Edward agrees with a nod of his head.
The mention of his family makes me want to look for them at their usual table. But once I find it, I'm surprised to see that no one is there.
Why is Edward at school today by himself? Is everyone else out sick?
"What about tomorrow?" a voice gruffly asks nearby.
Whipping my head towards where the voice came from, I see Mike looking at me for a moment before glancing at Edward. I'm surprised he overheard us. Usually Mike doesn't notice what's going on around him while he's talking.
"Edward and I are study partners," I explain. "I need extra help in Trig."
Mike's eyes turn piercing for a couple of seconds as he glares at Edward. Then, after swiping up a napkin to clean his face off, his frown relaxes a little as he turns to address me.
"You know, Bella," he says in an eerily calm voice. "I could help you out. I'm good at studying. There's no need to get Edward involved."
Jessica's head pivots to the side, her eyes appearing lost and confused. "But didn't you get a D in Trig just last semester, Mike?"
Mike doesn't move a muscle for a few moments, only his eyes blink as he thinks of something to say to that. It's not often that you hear Jessica say something this astute.
"Technically, yeah I did," he reluctantly admits. "But that was just because I fell asleep a few times and it took me a while to catch back up. Other than that, I'm great at Trig."
This info isn't exactly boosting my confidence in his ability to graduate high school, let alone guiding me to improve my test scores. There's no way I'm going to risk flunking Trigonometry just to make Mike feel better. Plus, I don't think I could take seeing him during and after school. There's only so much of Mike I can take before my brain whips out the white flag and demands a break.
"Well, thanks for the offer, Mike, but Edward and I have already made arrangements," I softly explain.
Jessica's eyes light up and she turns to him. "I could use some help in Spanish," she hints wistfully. "I wish there was someone who could help me."
Mike picks up his fork and knife and starts cutting up the food on his lunch tray. "Sounds like you need a tutor. I'm sure that Ms. Goff could help you find someone," he unconcernedly replies while stuffing his face full of chicken.
I can't hide my wince. He either is purposely trying to brush her off or he doesn't realize that she cares for him. Either way, it's hard to watch the outcome.
But Jessica is a resilient girl and doesn't give up without a fight. She recovers quickly and asks him when is the best time of year to enjoy a hike - as if outdoor life is what she lives and breathes. This sparks his interest and he launches into an elaborate explanation of the pros and cons of each season.
While they're distracted, I choose to go back to talking to Edward. Before Mike interrupted us, I had noticed something strange and had wanted to ask him about it. We're friends now. I think. It should be OK if I ask him a question or two.
"Where's your family today?"
He immediately stops chewing his food. Gradually, his jaw moves again and he swallows what's in his mouth.
"They...went out of town," he says slowly.
"How come you didn't go with them?"
He doesn't respond right away. He lifts up his bottle of water and drinks, his Adam's apple hypnotically bobbing up and down. After setting the water back on his tray, he answers my question.
"They're attracted to the outdoors," he replies. "Camping, hiking... hunting. The whole works. They have an innate need to leave civilization every so often. I'm not as inclined to spend my time out in the middle of nowhere. For obvious reasons," he weakly smiles. "The last time I spent the night in the forest, I almost never woke up again," he trails off.
"They should be back home tonight," he goes on placidly, appearing largely unaffected by the subject. "Though I'm torn over how I should feel about their return. The last two days have been quite pleasant since it's been only Carlisle and Esme at the house."
"Who are they?"
"They're my adopted parents."
"Oh..."
A warm smile spreads across his face. "Don't get me wrong. I love them all every much, but some of them don't quite understand the concept of boundaries. It's nice to have a break every now and then."
"What do you mean?"
He laughs at my confusion and explains. "I'll give you an example and then perhaps you will understand. My sister Alice lives under the delusion that everyone enjoys waking up at the crack of dawn. She bangs on my door as soon as the sun rises and expects for me to be happy about it. I am not a morning person, so she and I have had a number of arguments over her early wake up calls. I've been taking her absence as a sort of miniature vacation."
"Ah. So having her back is going to put a damper into your peace and relaxation," I smirk.
"Yes. Though, oddly enough, her absence hasn't been as perfect as I had first believed it would be. This morning I woke up at dawn all by myself. I have discovered that being startled awake every morning for eight months straight eventually affects your internal alarm clock. So it appears that my dear sister has won in the end."
He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "And don't even get me started on Emmett. I'll give you one word to sum up how life is when you live under the same roof as someone like him. Pranks."
Inside my head, I picture the humongous boy/man that is Emmett Cullen and try to imagine him pulling pranks like a frat boy. It's hard to believe. Emmett looks too intimidating to be a jokester.
My face must show my skepticism because Edward chuckles. "I'm serious," he insists. "Just last week he waited until I was out of the house so he could sneak into my bathroom and stuff chicken bouillon cubes inside the shower head. That night I took a shower in chicken broth. That's also when I found that all of my towels were inexplicably missing... I don't know what I'm going to do on April Fool's Day. I'm sure he has something especially devious planned," he dryly adds.
My face breaks into a grin and I laugh. "You're making me appreciate being an only child more and more."
The smile on his face slips slightly. "I was an only child myself once," he says musingly, his eyes downcast.
I stop laughing and look back at him sympathetically. If there is one thing that I have learned about Edward Masen since I have met him, it is this - for every smile or laugh he gives you, he pays with painful reminders of his past.
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The next day I'm sitting in the kitchen trying to get a head start on my trig homework before Edward gets here. His family returned today just like he said and he drove them home after school.
School today wasn't nearly as stressful as it was yesterday. For some reason, Mike wasn't being as clingy with me as usual. Sure, he still yapped a lot but he never tried asking me out again. The only thing he did do that made me nervous was stare at me. During lunch, I caught him watching me while I was talking with Angela and Edward. His expression was strange too. It reminded me of someone who dazedly watches a TV show marathon for hours on end, eagerly waiting to see what will happen on the next episode.
At around four o'clock I hear a knock at the front door. I know it's Edward because no one else would be coming to visit me today. Well...there is the possibility that it's someone here to preach to me and save my soul. But this is Forks, the closest equivalent to Hell you can find. Most religious folks probably wouldn't want to be associated with a place like this.
"Come in!" I shout from the kitchen table. I left the front door unlocked for him so that he could just walk right on in. It's raining heavily outside and I doubt he would appreciate waiting for me to open the door.
I point my head back down at the worksheet Mr. Varner handed us today. It's filled with fifteen of the most irritatingly hard trig problems known to mankind. I've been working on the fourth one for what seems like forever.
A couple of minutes pass by. I'm not making any progress in solving the problem and I heave out a frustrated sigh. I look up from my work and rub my eyes with my knuckles. Then I notice something that I should have realized much sooner.
Edward hasn't come in yet.
He must still be standing outside the front door. And it's pouring rain out there. He's going to be soaked!
I jump out of my chair and try to rush out of the kitchen, my feet sliding out from under me as I run across the slick wooden floor. I catch myself from falling by hanging onto the counter. Once I straighten up, I walk more carefully out into the living room.
My eyes are focused on the front door, wondering how upset Edward will be since he's been waiting in the cold rain for so long. I pass by the TV, then Charlie's recliner, the couch, the little table that holds the lamp, the fireplace, Edward...
Edward?!
My head snaps back around and my feet lock in place. I stare at him as if he is a ghost that suddenly appeared in my house. Edward has his back to me, his arms folded across his chest, as he stands in front of the fireplace. He's in jeans and a black, long-sleeved shirt. The coppery hair on his head is slightly damp, so it's laying down flatter than usual. He stands stock still, making no effort to move.
Why didn't he come looking for me? And why is he in here looking at the fireplace? Hasn't he seen one before?
I hear him softly laugh and my confusion mounts. What's so funny about the fireplace? It's not like-
Suddenly I'm gasping for air. Whatever I was just thinking about instantly dissolves.
I realize exactly why he's staring at the fireplace.
He's being entertained by the dozens of photographs of me on the mantel.
These are not just any photographs, mind you. They are the most embarrassing, humiliating, horrific pictures of me you could come up with. It's like a freak show up there - but one that stars only me.
There's me as a toddler screaming with snot running from my nose the time I sat on Shopping Mall Santa's lap.
There's me at thirteen with a gigantic zit on my forehead. That certainly made for a great yearbook photo.
There's me after I was knocked down by a wave when Charlie took me to the beach. Being photographed while almost drowning certainly made for a Kodac moment.
Oh, look. There's me when I lost my front teeth. My appearance was enhanced by the haircut Mom gave me. She didn't exactly have the skills to cut it evenly, so she was forced to keep cutting more and more. By the time she was done, I looked more like a Beau than a Bella.
I've always hated these things. I've tried to talk Charlie into letting me set them on fire - or at least putting them in the attic - but he won't listen. He seems to enjoy looking at pictures that make his daughter look like a troll that resides under a bridge.
And now Edward has gotten an eye full of me at my worst. How is he not projectile vomiting? I know I want to.
"What are you doing?" I ask accusingly. I hope he hasn't stolen one of them and plans on showing them to everyone at Forks High tomorrow. Because if that's the case, I'm hopping the next Greyhound bus out of town.
He swings around to face me, a pleased smile on his lips. Slipping his hands into his pockets, his eyes gleam mischievously. "I wasn't sure where you were, so I decided to stay here and admire the artwork until you appeared," he says with an undercurrent of amusement.
My cheeks flush cherry red. He's definitely teasing me. There's nothing to "admire" on that mantel except for the picture of Charlie and Mom the day they were married in Vegas. Everything else up there could go to the dump as far as I care.
"I was in the kitchen," I uneasily explain. "Just... Stop looking at those things and come with me."
He silently chuckles again but does as I ask. Scooping up his books from the table at the front door, he follows me to the back of the house where the kitchen sits. He drags out the chair next to where I had been sitting and gets right to business.
"I see that you've already started," he observes aloud. "How have you done so far?"
Crinkling my nose, I take a seat and glare at my homework. "Good and bad. I think I was doing fine until I got to number 4. I've been stuck on it for the past few minutes."
"Can I take a look?"
"Sure. Go ahead," I say as I push the paper towards him.
He hunches over a little to look at the worksheet. I nervously - and maybe a bit creepily - watch as he studies my work. His face does interesting things when he is concentrating on something. A faint line between his eyebrows appears, giving his face a pensive quality. His eyes move around erratically while scanning the paper.
"I think I see the problem," he announces, his eyes popping up and focusing on me. I look back fearfully, worried that he caught me staring. But he doesn't seem to have noticed a thing. Instead he places his index finger on the problem and says, "You accidentally put the cosine where the tangent should be. See?"
In disbelief, I drag my chair a little closer and look at my worksheet. It takes a while for me to rework the problem, but I soon see that he is correct.
I am an idiot.
"I can't believe that," I say, rolling my eyes at my own stupidity. "This is why I hate Trig. If you put one number in the wrong place, everything messes up."
After his help, I tackle the rest of the worksheet while he works on his own. We don't say anything for a while as we both focus on our homework.
I'm done before him, but it's not because I am a genius. It's because I had a head start on the worksheet. He's done with his soon afterwards and I decide that it's my turn to help him with English.
"Have you finished The Lady Or The Tiger? and the worksheet yet?"
"I read the story already, but I haven't done the worksheet," he replies.
I stare back at him bewildered. That story is short, simple, and easy to understand. Edward should be able to complete the worksheet blindfolded.
"Why not?"
"Because I wanted to get a second opinion on this question," he smoothly explains, his finger pointing at the very last question on the paper.
"Which door did the princess direct her lover to open, the door with the lady or the one with the tiger?" I read. Looking up from his paper, I arch my brow at him. "Edward, why haven't you done that question yet? I think I know enough about you by now to know that this should be an easy question for you to solve by yourself."
The question is laughably easy. All you have to do is give your opinion. There's no way that you can answer incorrectly.
Edward casually rests his chin in his hand, his elbow propped on the table. With an enigmatic smile, he says, "I never said that I didn't know how to answer it. It's more like, I want to hear how you would answer it. Don't you find that rhetorical questions always seem to lead to more questions?"
"All right," I smile. "I believe that the princess chose to save her lover by indicating to him that he should open the door with the lady behind it."
"Why?" he fires back, his eyes glowing.
"Because she loved him."
Edward looks back at me askance, evidently disagreeing with my assessment. He goes on to argue that the princess was a cruel, selfish woman who wouldn't be able to stand watching the man she loves marrying another woman - even if it did mean that his life was saved. Edward tells me that he believes that the princess would tell him to open the door that had the tiger behind it to keep him out of the arms of anyone else. Obviously, Edward is a cynic when it comes to true love.
"What would you have done if you had been in her shoes?" I ask curiously. "Would you rather watch the love of your life be with someone else in order to save them, or would you rather condemn them to death?"
"Neither choice sounds particularly pleasant," he frowns.
"Who ever said that love was pleasant?" I point out, faintly smiling. "Maybe that's one of the points of the story. Love will sometimes force you into making decisions that you may not like to make. The princess was put in the position of-"
"Bella?" yells someone from the living room.
I glance at the clock across the room. It's a few minutes past 4:30. Charlie's home earlier than normal.
"In the kitchen," I yell back.
"There's a car parked out by the street," Charlie says as he walks towards the back of the house. "Have you seen anybody-"
His mouth clamps shut as soon as he appears at the kitchen door. Charlie stands frozen in shock. He looks at Edward. Looks at me. Then looks at Edward again and remains locked on his face for an uncomfortably long time.
"Hello, Chief Swan," Edward politely greets him.
Charlie goes on staring, immobilized in place, for a few beats longer - not even blinking his eyes. His thick, Tom Selleck mustache is the first to show signs of life. It wiggles and twitches as if it's doing a merry dance on his face. But I know that this seemingly innocent body language means something besides happiness. It means that Dad is wary and suspicious.
"Oh," Charlie eventually responds. "Um, yes... Hello." Despite the greeting, he reverts right back to awkwardly staring at Edward, making me more embarrassed now than I was when I caught Edward looking at my pictures on the mantel.
I loudly clear my throat, reminding my father that I am in the room as well. "Dad, this is my study partner. He's helping me bring up my grade in Trig." This is a subtle hint to him that Edward is my guest here for a reason, not a criminal he can try to intimidate.
Charlie's dark brown eyes dart to my face. "I see," he drawls speculatively, pursing his mouth. "I didn't know that you needed help with your school work." Glancing back at the boy beside me, his eyes narrow. "Edward, wasn't it?" he asks gruffly.
"Yes, sir. Edward Masen," he replies, his voice exuding a soothing formality in spite of the ridiculous scrutiny Charlie is putting him through.
Charlie glares at Edward a bit longer. Then, he looks at me. "So, this is going to be a regular thing?" he roughly presses.
I have to force myself not to do an eye roll at him. Could he act any more unwelcoming? I'm surprised he's not growling and snarling just because Edward is sitting in his usual chair at the table.
"Yeah, we'll be meeting here twice a week," I reply.
He grunts and squints his eyes suspiciously at Edward. "Are you staying for dinner?"
Edward shakes his head, remaining unaffected by the unfriendly vibe Charlie is giving off. I guess dealing with Mike for so long has prepared him for occasions just like this one. "No, sir. I promised my mother that I would be home to eat with the family."
Charlie's deeply furrowed eyebrows relax slightly. He watches us for a moment or two more, then nods his head. "Well... I'll be in the next room if you two need me," he says as he begins to leave the kitchen.
I release the lungful of air that I had been holding and slouch in my chair. Charlie acted like a primitive caveman who sees a member of a rival clan on his territory - even though he had no good reason to be so hostile towards Edward. But I guess I shouldn't be too mad at him. It could have been worse.
Charlie takes a step towards the living room, stops in his tracks, and snaps his head around to look at us again - or more specifically, Edward. "I better go hang up the gun now," he says significantly, eyeing Edward as he walks away. "Wouldn't want any accidents."
My jaw drops open.
Queue crippling embarrassment... now.
"Dad!" I yelp. But he doesn't return.
I can't let him get away with this. It would set a bad precedent. If I can't have a friend over to study with me, what's next? No talking on the phone after eight o'clock? If we're going to live together, I will need to solve this problem quickly.
I turn to Edward and say, "Excuse me for a minute. I need to go set Charlie straight on a few things."
"It's all right, Bella," he faintly smiles. "I understand. He's just worried about you. I don't blame him for trying to protect his daughter."
I roll my eyes and laugh. He might see where Charlie is coming from, but I can't. It must be something you can only understand if you possess both an X and Y chromosome.
"He's not protecting me," I retort. "He's threatening you. And I do take exception to that. You wait here while I go remind him that threatening a teenager with a gun is probably against the law."
I stomp into the living room with my hands balled up. I have my hands like this because I otherwise would be too tempted to strangle my father.
He's shrugging off his jacket with his back turned towards me, taking his sweet time to hang it on the coat rack. He probably heard me coming into the room and knows that I am waiting to talk to him. And he wants to put it off for as long as possible.
"What was that all about?" I huff irritably once he hangs his gun belt up on the hook on the wall.
"What?" he asks as he turns around.
"You know good and well 'what' I'm talking about," I snap, tipping my head towards his service revolver.
"Oh. That," he mumbles, his mustache dancing a nervous jig. Good. He should be nervous.
"Yes. That," I flatly confirm with eyes narrowed. "You just threatened to shoot someone, Dad!"
"I didn't threaten. I warned him. There's a difference."
I bark out a humorless laugh at his faulty logic. "OK. So you were 'warning him'," I say using air quotes. "Please, do share with me what you were warning him about. I think it would be nice if I can at least give him a heads up on what he has done wrong before you go brandishing your firearm at him."
Charlie's forehead wrinkles downwards. "I would never pull out a gun like that," he assures me. Yet before I can take comfort in that assurance, he adds, "Unless I had to."
"Well, you implied it," I glare at him, crossing my arms at my chest. "So what's the deal? Why did you do it? Do you even realize how humiliated you made me feel just now?"
He looks down at the floor to avoid looking at me. "I don't like the idea of you being alone with that kid," he grumbles.
"Why?" I ask, cocking up a brow. "Do you think he's a danger to me? A threat? What do you think he's going to do, Dad? Attack me with his number two pencil? Give me a paper cut?"
His eyes harden at my sarcastic attitude. "Don't be so naïve. He is a teenage boy. Every boy that age since the dawn of time thinks about only one thing, Bells." Charlie's index finger stabs towards me to make his point, and he says with added emphasis, "And you know exactly what I'm talking about. Having him here - alone with you - is just asking for trouble."
Charlie may be a no nonsense cop that has the power to arrest criminals and interrogate suspects, but he still can't say the word "sex" in front of his daughter. Admittedly, I can't say it to him either. There's just some things that Fathers and Daughters should never openly discuss. However, I can use this weakness of his to my advantage.
"Oh. You're telling me that no boy can resist sitting near a girl without being able to keep their hands to themselves? Is that what you're saying?"
"Exactly," he says, nodding his head in agreement.
"So I guess you're speaking from experience then?"
Charlie's head snaps up to look me in the eye. "Huh?"
"You know. Seeing as how you're a man, that means you were once a teenage boy, too. According to you, that means that when you were a teenager, all you did was try to feel up helpless females. Right?"
"N-no!" he sputters. "I would never-" His face even reddens up like a tomato. Perfect.
"But, Dad," I say with false innocence. "I don't understand. You just told me that all boys are dangerous and can't be trusted."
"They are dangerous. But I was...different. I would never...you know, take advantage of a young girl. No matter what age I am, I would never do that. I was taught to be respectful of women. And as for that boy in there, I may not know him very well but I do know that he's an irresponsible kid. There's...things about him that you don't know about."
I shake my head at him and keep my voice low. "You're wrong, Dad. Just because he made a mistake once upon a time and you had to help him doesn't mean that he's not responsible. He was going through a lot in his life back then. He just moved here and had trouble adjusting to the change. You can't hold what happened out in the woods against him forever. Remember how you felt after Grandma Swan died? You were depressed for weeks. You called in sick to work for days. And you were already an adult. Imagine going through that at seventeen, Dad."
Charlie's eyes widen, appearing surprised that I know about the incident he was hinting at.
"Actually, you and Edward have a lot in common," I continue without pausing. "He has loads of morals. He's polite and considerate of others. The teachers all love him. And he hasn't done anything inappropriate. Even when you were beating your chest like a mountain gorilla in the kitchen, he was civil to you. So I think you're jumping to conclusions about him. All we're trying to do is study. He's helping me with trig, I'm helping him in English. That's it."
Charlie's face contorts into a scowl. He hates it when I'm right and he's wrong.
Feeling powerful and confident, I decide to break some potentially upsetting news to him since I am on a roll. "Oh, Dad? By the way... We're having lima beans tonight for dinner along with the pork chops and mac and cheese. And you're going to eat them without complaining."
Charlie has an aversion to anything healthy. If it's not dripping in some sort of sauce or butter, he turns his nose up at it. He will consider eating them as a punishment.
"Lima beans," he repeats, his lip curled with distaste. "They taste like dirt. I thought you said we were having mashed potatoes?"
"I don't have time to wash, peel, boil, and mash potatoes tonight. I have homework to do. Maybe if you had let me work in peace with Edward instead of distracting us, I could have finished in time to make it. Lima beans are a lot easier to cook."
He scowls at me for about ten seconds. "Fine," he grumpily says, his lips pouting. "I'll put up with 'em. But that doesn't mean I'll like 'em... And if they know what's good for them, they'd better stay far across the table from you. And no touching!"
He then shuffles over to the recliner to watch TV, ending our discussion.
I may not be the smartest girl in the world, but I have a feeling that he wasn't talking about lima beans anymore.
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A/N-
Next Chapter- Bella becomes accustomed to having a certain somebody in her kitchen. And evil incarnate sits with her at lunch (and, no, it's not Mike).
Thanks for reading! :-)