EPOV
"What the fuck, Coach? Jasper Swan? You're forcing me into a DOUBLE OCCUPANCY with HIM? Why not Emmett or Damien? I always room with either one or the both of them! I'd rather have a fucking triple than a double with Swam. Point me to Siberia already."
Drake innocently peered at me over his spiky, black reading glasses. "Wow. Well said, young sir. But if I may ask, why are you so outraged by this, Edward?"
"We've been over this. FOR THE PAST FIVE MINUTES. Living with Swan would be awkward. Just let me room with Emmett."
My fucking coach leaned calmly back in his chair. His office appeared abnormally clean at the moment, and I fervently prayed a massive stack of paper would appear in a corner, so I could conveniently knock something over. Perhaps I could proceed to light it on fire. Fuck. I continually paced back and forth in front of Drake's antique, mahogany desk. I would never entirely understand the man. He was a full-fledged water demon, yet he harbored a soft spot for eighteenth century furniture? And he was being uncharacteristically tight-lipped with me right then. Why had he chosen to pair me with the only person in this school whom I despised with an unmatched and unearthly passion?
As rage continued to simmer beneath the surface of my skin, Drake stared at me with amusement.
Finally, he got to the damn point. Or one damn point anyway. He said, "Swan beat more than two-thirds of the new team today. I assume it was his first day in competitive water. How does that make you feel?"
I cracked my knuckles but answered calmly. "Well, he didn't beat my overall time. Are you insinuating that I'm jealous?"
"No," he said, leaning forward and finally taking the conversation seriously. "Oddly enough, I'm not, but something has you hating the boy, and I will not have such resentment existing between members of my team. Live together. Swim together. Learn together. GET THE FUCK ALONG."
His voice rose, but that was Drake for you. The man would not be able to speak in anything resembling a monotone even if he were imitating Japanese.
I scoffed. "You clearly paired me with Swan before I came in here to contest the decision. Why?"
He lifted an eyebrow and nodded in mock salute. "Nicely pointed out. So, I may as well ask you to remember who taught you the way to successfully knock a man in the balls while he is in public, underwater, and expecting it."
I threw my knapsack onto my new bed in Damen Hall.
It may have bounced a few times as a result of the unnecessary force applied.
I selected the bed closest to the door as well as to the floor. The other one required a bit of climbing, and I hoped Jasper would have a difficult time of it each night.
My hatred for the pansy ass, male Swan was the product of many years and various reasons. But this year, he was elevating my abhorrence to a whole new level.
The least important and least inflaming reason driving my negative emotions was Jasper's striking resemblance to his sister.
Every time I saw him in class, those brown eyes reminded me of Bella.
His effeminate appearance was like a small curse. The only difference between the two was Jasper's shorter eyelashes and broader shoulders. Not that I could determine whose were broader unless they stood side by side.
Jasper was the devil in my eyes, and Isabella Swan was simply an angel.
Her sweet little fingers used to push Alice on the swings when we were children. Her happiness snuck into every corner of my life. She cleaned up a scrape on my knee once, and she blushed fiercely the entire time. But she didn't even know my name.
I knew how her eyes sparkled when it rained. And her hair had a way of getting stuck in front of her left eye. She made Alice smile. She caused the child in me to cry. And she spelled the man in me to fall in love.
Yet Bella Swan barely knew I existed.
Her frequent visits to the orphanage were the highlights of my life. I followed Alice and Bella whenever I could simply so I could watch the stunning brown-haired girl smile.
My world had been so dark that genuine smiles were like jewels to me. They were rare and precious in the midst of everyone's angst. All the people around me hoped for a new life. In a world where everyone only wanted to escape, find a family, and live without fear, how could someone so full of life not intrigue me?
But she was more than a compelling person. She was good.
Bella even brought Alice food on each visit, and for that, I will always be grateful. I purposely befriended the cook and snuck Alice anything I could from the kitchens. I even beat up the boys who hurt her or threatened them in the middle of the night. But that was not enough. Bella strengthened my sister in a way I never could. She taught Alice to stand up for herself when Alice only wanted to remain passive and accept any passing evil in her life.
Ultimately, Bella gave us both a wondrous glimpse of a different world. We had breathed the dusky smoke of orphanage life and rotated through foster care so many times that we'd also forgotten the simple world of happy kids.
I smile now when I think of Bella as a girly little Peter Pan, who offered us fairy dust and taught us to fly.
However, Bella Swan would never know how I felt. How could I share my demons with someone so full of light? Monsters were not meant to mingle with angels, to burden their wings, and invade their hearts.
With that thought, I once again cursed Jasper Swan.
Why must he always remind me of what I can't have?
As that last thought flitted through my brain, I heard footsteps approaching in the hallway outside the door along with some huffing that I found very satisfying.
The door opened to reveal none other than Jasper, out of breath and hunched over a suitcase.
Slowly, he straightened up and looked me in the eye.
The air seemed full of static, like what I would imagine the inside of a television would be like while it remained on.
"Hello," Jasper said. But the word was oddly drawn out.
I stared at him for a moment and watched a bead of sweat roll down his forehead. Then I simply lay back on my bed and popped in my iPod earphones. I set the music on low. After all, the appearance of indifference is a wonderful way of discretely remaining involved.
Jasper slightly shook his head and dragged his suitcase to rest beside his bed.
The room was sparsely furnished. We had two desks, a couple closets, and the fridge I contributed. A nice thing about Damen Hall was that each room connected to a living room much larger than the average common room in Cullen Hall. Ours contained a red plush sofa, a few squishy armchairs, a television, and various tables. People found this place perfect for parties. I found it perfect for studying.
I watched discretely and curiously as Jasper unpacked his belongings. He had a few clothes and the necessities, but soon, I lifted my head in surprise when I realized half his suitcase consisted of novels.
Jasper pulled out what seemed to be the entire works of Poe, Shakespeare, Austen, the Bronte sisters, and even J.K. Rowling. Then there were a few nonfiction books on historical events or countries; I thought I saw the biography of Churchill too. A large number was also what seemed like simple and modern fiction, written for mass audiences who wanted a fast read.
"Dead Until Dark?" I asked, surprised at the chick book. "Isn't that part of the series which True Blood is based on?"
Jasper looked up and nodded. He turned his head and continued unpacking. I ground my teeth together at his cheekiness but remained silent.
I wondered what he would do with all those books until he simply lined them up beneath the huge cavity under his bed and against the wall. He'd have to crawl under there every time he wanted a novel, but it was a nice idea nonetheless. A small space fill with printed pages to call your own? That seemed like a nice slice of heaven to me. Not that I planned to ever vocalize that opinion.
I woke up panting in the middle of the night. My heart raced, and sweat poured down my body in torrents. My nightmare continued to chase me, even after the veil of sleep had lifted. The depression and anxiety I felt every night crept forward silently, and as always, I was overcome before I realized anything was wrong.
I lay back silently with my eyes open, my heart thudding in my ears, and my gaze on the ceiling for the remainder of the night.
The darkness shrouded me so well, I had no clue that Swan was looking sadly down at me from the bed to my left.
During breakfast the next morning, I watched Emmett shovel three plates of eggs into his tractor-sized mouth. Then I watched Mike sidle over to Jasper and Alice's table. That idiot's advance only meant one thing: vomit-worthy groping.
I turned away and stared at a far wall while Emmett, Jackson, and Derek yammered on about their new swimsuits. My mind was a million miles away. I could still see my parents' faces from my dreams.
My father's fists rained down on me as I lay against the tiny, torn bed I shared with my twin. Alice was huddled in the corner, her face frozen. I sealed my own lips and bore the abuse silently. This was the deal I made with him. It was either me or Alice—so it had to be me.
"Dude! Dude, look at this."
Emmett's huge form invaded my line of sight. He was balancing a full plate of sausages atop his head.
"Em, that's not an achievement. Your head is flat," I informed my burly teammate.
His face broke into a smile. "Ah, but that is an achievement in itself, my surly captain." He saluted me and stood with the plate still precariously balanced on his head. He gathered everyone's empty plates and walked away—very slowly.
I shook my head in amusement as not a single head turned in the dining hall. Everyone was accustomed to Emmett's antics. And they liked him for his crazy nature. I loved him for his ability to see the good in everything. He would probably even like Swan. Fuckin' hell. I should nip that in the bud, but turning my team against any player would not only be cruel, it would be unwise.
I pushed my chair back with a huff and stood. I wanted to get to class before Tanya sauntered into the dining hall. I needed a good fuck, but Denali was getting on my nerves recently. She knew I hated her attention-seeking personality, and we both knew this was just a non-exclusive, fuck-buddy relationship. She could hold my hand once in a while, but it would not go any further than that. However, she was now having a little trouble accepting this fact, and I was having trouble indulging her sickly sweet attempts at starting something more.
After passing by Alice and Jasper, I turned around to yank Mike out of his seat in front of them. He was so dazed, he didn't even realize I was dragging him away until Jasper and Alice broke apart.
Finally, he wriggled out of my grasp and fled in fear. I continued walking to English. My mood was only growing fouler as the day progressed.
Twenty minutes into English class, Jessica's comments about Darcy's arrogance in Pride and Prejudice were already getting to me.
"He refuses to see anything clearly unless it's shoved up his nose," Jessica said. "I mean, consider Lizzy. He likes her, but does he love her until she slights his offer to dance? No, it takes an insult to get him to truly see anything he considers beneath him."
"I'm sorry, are you trying to prove Darcy is arrogant?" I finally piped up. Every head turned in my direction.
"Well, yeah." Jessica flipped her hair, puffed out her chest like a friggin' bird, and smiled at me.
"And what exactly is so novel about that point? Even he ultimately admits to his arrogance and conceit."
Jessica seemed a bit put out. I smiled.
Well, until Jasper opened his mouth to say, "Her point was more about his blindness to the world he chooses to look down upon yet rarely see."
I scoffed, "Oh, he sees that world. He just distrusts it until he finds something worthy enough to redeem it."
Jasper's brows furrowed. "No, I disagree. And are you calling Lizzy 'something'? Why must her world be redeemed anyway? What could have driven him to such conceit in the first place? After all, perspective is a choice."
"Sometimes choice is taken out of our hands. Nature fights nurture, and nurture often wins."
"We have no concrete proof of that in Darcy's case. His late parents are actually described as quite generous people. He may have been nurtured well," Jasper shot back.
A growl almost ripped from my throat. Yes, I was feeling quite animalistic today. "If you honestly believe Fitzwilliam Darcy is blind to anything but himself in the beginning of the novel, then you are simply deranged."
People snickered as Jasper grew flushed.
"Edward," Dr. Willsworth admonished as if I were an errant child. "Respect is the key to any successful discussion."
No, Dr. Obvious, knowledgeable human beings are the key to discussions as well as my sanity.
Jasper's eyes narrowed, and he squared his shoulders as he turned to me. "That's fine, Dr. Willsworth. So, Edward, you think that Darcy would have called anyone at Longbourne accomplished? After all, he only associated himself with accomplished people."
"He marries Lizzy, doesn't he?"
"Who's to say he finds her accomplished?"
"To him, she is perfect," I said.
"Why? Why would he find an unaccomplished person perfect? Ms. Bingley and Darcy made it clear that the perfect woman must be faultlessly knowledgeable of 'music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages.' And that doesn't even include, what was it, oh yes, 'her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions.'"
"No," I said firmly. Can no one understand the novel at all? I continued, "The perfect woman must be good. In heart, motivation, and perspective. That is the point Austen strove to make clear. For all of Miss Bingley's accomplishments, she never learns the most significant quality a human being must possess, and so she does not win her man in the end."
Little Maria smiled softly at me as Jasper looked perplexed.
For my part, I didn't think I'd introduced a difficult concept. Perhaps it was the sight of a reputed playboy preaching about finding goodness in a woman. I'm sure everyone thought I was only after a hot mouth and nimble hands.
Fuck me.
Well, I struggled through the rest of the day and finally ended up collapsing on my bed and praying for sleep to find me.
I must not have closed the door properly because Damien barged into my room fifteen seconds later. He was the second best swimmer I had as well as my closest friend. Tall, black-haired, blue-eyed, and fiercely loyal to friends, he was also ridiculously popular with women.
That's why his next words did not even come close to surprising me.
"It's Friday night, and we're going to a club. Get off your ass. You'll never learn to sleep properly."
Already stomping away, he didn't await a reply. He knew I would come.
Thirty minutes later, I was walking into Gray's, my favorite club in town. It was more of a lounge, and I had a VIP section reserved for me near the dance floor. Pulsating lights moved around the room, offering light where there was only darkness a moment before. Emmett and Damien were at my side, and I felt ready to forget my stupid worries and simply be.
Sprawling across a large sofa, I sighed deeply and people-watched for a while. Soon, leggy blondes and half-naked brunettes surrounded my two friends. A stunning redhead named Irina sat in my lap, and I spent a couple minutes exploring her neck.
As her hand began to wander, I spotted Alice making her way onto the floor. My eyes narrowed, but when Alice shifted, my jaw fully dropped to the floor.
Isabella Swan, clad in a tight crimson skirt and backless top, trailed behind Alice. Her hair was curled into ringlets down her milky smooth back. I immediately pushed Irina off my lap and stood to lean against a nearby wall where I had a better view of Bella. She seemed nervous about something, but her large eyes looked stunning. Smoky shadow and nude lips complemented her face perfectly, and I longed to pull that plump bottom lip between my teeth and bite.
Well, I longed to bite much more than her lips.
Her gait was initially quite awkward but once Alice had Bella moving, her hips swaying, and her mind on the beat, I knew I had never seen a sight more seductive than Bella dancing.
Damn, my cock was so hard it was growing painful. I felt like a voyeur, but nothing had ever stopped me from admiring Isabella Swan from a distance, and nothing ever could.
She and Alice had their backs to each other, but as soon as they stepped away a bit, James Morrison had Bella in his slimy grasp. My hands clenched into fists. Soon, James was fondling her breasts, and finally, Bella showed the repulsion I prayed for.
When she pushed him away, I exhaled a relieved breath and felt thankful he took the hint. Which I must note was very unlike the James I knew.
A few minutes later, when Bella sank to the floor and rose agonizingly slowly, I felt a multitude of emotions wash through me. Surprisingly, the foremost sensation was anger. Admittedly though, it was followed closely by desire and temptation. I wanted to know how it felt to be inside her. To have her mouth suck on every inch of my skin. To trail my tongue along the peak of each sloping breast. To finally pin her softness beneath my hard body and watch her entire being come undone from my forceful thrusts and unbidden words.
I certainly did not want an entire club witnessing the sight of Bella twisting and grinding in what had to be the most sensual dance in history.
After Alice was swept farther away into the crowd and I could no longer see her, my feet began to move without any conscious decision from my mind.
Finally, after what seemed to be a million millennia, I was behind Bella, with my arms wrapped around her waist and her body moving against mine. She tensed at first, not knowing who was holding her, but when she realized my hands knew their boundaries, we set a nice rhythm.
Hearing her soft sigh, I closed my eyes and thanked the world for allowing me this moment with the only girl I ever loved. If this was all the intimacy I could get, then I would savor it.
The music sped up and soon, Bella began grinding her ass against my straining erection with her long arms around my neck. My hands lowered to graze her breasts, and I felt Bella shudder against me. She was more of a vixen than I ever dreamed, and I had certainly dreamed, so soon, my imagination relinquished all its control and sped away.
Images of Bella gasping and groaning assaulted my mind, torturing me, teasing me until with a groan of surrender, I desperately turned this beguiling woman around and captured her lips.
The sweet, lushness shocked me to my core. Her lips moved sensuously slow against my own, lighting something in my soul. I pulled back to breathe and watched her eyes open to properly land on my face for the first time tonight.
Her reaction was a mixture of shock, disbelief, and discomposure. But then she simply gasped my name in the lustiest tone I had ever heard in my life. I gazed into her eyes for a moment, feeling elated that her arms remained around my neck.
"Bella," I whispered against her open lips. "What are you doing here?"
Her eyes widened for a moment before she abruptly pulled me closer, shoving her hands into my hair and begging my mouth for entrance.
Within seconds, I had her squirming against a wall, her body deliciously sandwiched between me and a large black pillar in a dark, secluded corner of the club.
"Oh," she breathed as my hand slid up her top to practically latch onto a pert little breast.
"That's it," I said. My fingers teased her tightened nipples with light touches.
But as my fingers moved between her legs, I heard the last thing a man wants to hear at a time like that—
His sister calling his name from less than five feet away.