I got up, hoping that the morning wouldn't feel as bleak as I did. I was mostly right, though the lack of sun really did make things look gray, for the moment. I put on a tan halter top over a black button-up, over a pair of jean shorts over dark leggings. I felt warm at least, even if the morning was a bit more chill than it had been the last few days.
I got my things and headed outside, finding the Volvo the most welcoming sight it had been since it had started arriving every morning. But, as I opened the door, I realized something was wrong; I was opening the door. This was the first time that I could remember doing that; it was the first time I had ever opened this door this way instead of Edward. Something was different. Something was wrong.
I slid into the car, finding him behind the wheel, his hands at ten and two, stuffed into gloves. I thought about it and remembered the only other time I had seen him wearing gloves; that first day that he had decided to talk to me. Somehow, this felt like a step back, a step backwards.
"Good morning," he said, his eyes out the front of the car, not looking at me. Something was really, really wrong.
I realized; he knew.
"I'm sorry," I said dejectedly.
His head whipped around, as though he had been struck or otherwise blindsided and was looking for the cause. His eyes found mine, surprise and disconcertment in them.
"Why?" he asked, distressed. "What could you have possibly done to deserve that tone?"
I felt the prick of tears from nowhere.
"I…" I tried to speak, but my voice caught.
He took my hand, only to hiss and pull his hand back, as though in pain.
"Edward," I nearly cried in concern.
"No," he said. "It is nothing."
I grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand towards me. I knew he could have resisted, but he didn't seem capable. I held his hand before me, and carefully removed his glove.
His hand was… I couldn't tell. Burned, maybe. His skin didn't really have the same red flush or angry look to it that mine would, but it was pocked and blistered, damaged, as one might be after contact with extreme temperature, which is to say energy.
"What happened?" I asked.
He looked disgusted.
"You cut your finger," he said.
I didn't make sense of it, mostly because he said it like an explanation, not a deflection.
"How did me cutting my finger cause this?" I asked.
He sighed, "Because I tried to get to you to help."
Something connected itself in my head. The clatter that I had heard, that had caught my attention, that had pushed itself into my consciousness so that it interested me more than seeking relief from pain and injury I had caused. It had been him, at my back door, which made perfect sense to me.
"I was unconscionably foolish," he said. "Not only was I so repugnant as to linger here to listen, unbidden, to your private conversation, I attempted to enter your home without permission. This was the price for my pride and stupidity, and I bear it well. Or, as well as I am able."
"You're a jerk," I said, my hand hovering over the injury. "I thought… can't you heal these?"
He looked at me, confused, "Why am I a jerk exactly?"
"For hurting yourself," I said, feeling just awful, unable to help. "What can we do?"
He looked wary, "You aren't angry that I listened in on your conversation, that I behaved… what is the common parlance… like a stalker?"
I considered, "No, I don't mind. I mean, it sounds rather boring, actually, but I don't particularly mind. How did this hurt you?"
He looked a little shifty, as though he wasn't sure how to respond.
"Edward," I said, a touch of desperation leaking into my voice, "please. How can I help you?"
He shook his head, relenting.
"There is no help for it," he said. "The only way to heal it is blood."
I froze, "Blood?"
He nodded, "While I could use my reserves, it is usually used for things like common injuries and to feeling warm, to appear more human, this… this is a different sort of injury. It takes more, more than I can carry, more than I have. I will need more, fresh blood, direct from the body."
I quickly weighed the idea of Edward in pain against my own morals and felt like the worst person in the world, as though someone's life would be worth his lack of pain.
"Donated blood won't do?" I asked.
He shook his head, "It isn't about the blood. That is just a symbol. It is about life. That is what feeds us."
I couldn't believe we were talking so casually about this.
"I…" I said, barely mumbling, "I can't…"
A rictus of disgust fixed itself upon his face.
"Bella," he said, sounding contrite. "No. We are not talking about a human life. Of course not. I… I will not hunt another human, not after…"
He looked down, looked sad.
"I would have clarified," he said, "had I thought there was a need. After everything that I have… after all the simple joy just these two days have brought, I could never so easily throw it all away. Never. You… you mean far too much to me for that."
I felt almost relieved. It was like having to have a shot and finding that it felt no more painful than a cotton swab. I wanted to laugh, the sensation of pain feeling almost good.
"Good," I said. "That's… that good."
He reached over and touched my face, doing so with his unburnt hand. I became still and calm, trying to make it as easy for him as possible, which was nearly completely defeated by my heart suddenly doing a samba. He grinned at me.
"We can feed," he explained, "on the blood of animals. The bigger and more predatory, the better."
I considered, "Why haven't you done this before?"
He looked almost ashamed, "I… it seemed a pointless restriction."
He began to drive as he continued.
"I have never taken an innocent life," he said. "Not by anyone's definition. The men… the men who…"
He went slightly rigid.
"I am sorry," he said. "The men who hurt you… Simply the memory elicits a violent reaction in me. They were not even remotely the worst offenders I have… eliminated. All were accursed creatures, to be sure. My gift makes it easy enough for me to track them, to find them, to finish them. I took only the lives of those who took lives themselves. Murders or soon to be murders. I have prevented countless deaths, and that was justification enough for me once."
We pulled up to the school and he refitted his glove, carefully.
"How did this happen?" I asked, leaping at the change in subject.
He grinned humorlessly, "We cannot enter a home uninvited. That is true to the lore, though not everything is."
I looked disappointed, and he burst out laughing.
"What?" I asked. And he grinned.
"We have to be around people again," he said, "so you can't ask me all that you want, and it distresses you."
My mouth fell open. He was right, of course.
"I am glad that I too can read you well," he said.
We got out of the car.
"How much did you hear?" I asked.
He didn't look very pleased with himself, but he relented.
"Everything," he said. "More than you, in fact."
I realized he meant that he got the conversation and the mental reactions.
"Oh?" I asked.
He laughed, "Jacob likes you."
I snorted, "He said as much, if not in words."
He walked beside me, offered his arm.
"If you…" he said quietly. "If you decide I am not worth-"
"Hey," I said, pulling him to a halt.
"Bella," he said, facing me. "You may always decide differently. I do not mean this in a negative way against myself. If you do decide that the cost of being with… me… is more than the rewards, Jacob… might… be an acceptable alternative."
I didn't know what to say.
"Even if he is a willful child," he said with a nearly teasing smirk.
I grinned, "At least he isn't a…"
He knew what I meant. Edward tried to give me a disapproving look, but could not but smile at me.
"I want you," I said ardently, "only you."
He smiled, "And I you, Bella."
There was the slightest hitch to his last words, but I wasn't sure. It was too subtle.
He walked me to class. This time, it felt… strange. I wasn't sure, but it felt a bit like neither of us wanted to go. That I understood, completely. Why be anywhere without him when I could be with him? It made no sense.
"I will see you next break," he said, as though knowing that this information would be enough for me to be willing to be drawn away.
"Alright," I said, not stepping back. "I'll see you then."
Neither of us moved.
"Going now," I said, still not moving.
He grinned, touching his forehead to mine.
"I can't wait for tomorrow," he said.
Suddenly, I felt like I had been smacked in the face. Right, grounded.
He gave me a knowing smile.
"You know?" I asked. Of course he knew. He knew everything.
"I do," he said with an embarrassed smile.
I shook my head, "I am sorry. I don't know what to do."
He smiled, the embarrassment melting away.
"I have faith in you," he said. "We'll figure it out."
He turned and walked away.
English took longer than I would have thought possible. Even though it was my favorite subject, I was climbing the walls by the end of it. Edward was waiting for me, and I practically fled at him when I saw him. To my surprise, he actually took me into his arms. For a moment, I marveled in his cool embrace, feeling at peace for the first time since we had parted.
"I don't know what to do," I said. "What can I do?"
Edward looked into my eyes, his calm almost irritating me.
"You want my option?" he asked.
"Yes!" I said, loud enough that a few people turned our way. I quieted down.
"I mean," I said, "you seem to have all the answers here."
He pressed his lips, "In this case, I have no more answers than you."
I frowned at him, "Well, can't you tell me how to get back on my dad's good side? What does he want?"
He shrugged, "I really have no idea."
I was starting to feel angry.
"Why aren't you being more helpful?" I asked. "Don't you want me to go?"
He stopped walking.
"You are angry with me?" he asked.
I felt suddenly sick.
"No," I said, feeling like an idiot. "No, I really am not."
I sighed, "That wasn't fair. I wanted to go so badly, I started taking it out on you because it was easier than taking responsibility for my own stupidity."
"Stupidity?" question Edward.
I nodded, "I am grounded because I lied."
Edward nodded, "I knew why he said you were grounded. I just didn't know if it was true or not."
"It's true," I said. "I brought this upon myself."
He propelled me through the crowd to my next class. People gave us a lot of room.
"It is going to be alright," he said to me, and I felt myself begin to relax at his arm around me, his word stirring cool air about me.
"Even if we do not go to the dance," he said, "that changes nothing."
I shook my head.
"I just don't like feeling like I have no choice," I said.
"You do have a choice," he said. "You chose to lie, and this is your consequence."
I would have felt blamed if it wasn't for the absolutely blameless tone of his voice.
"You had a choice then, and you have one now," he continued. "You can choose to feel victimized by this plight that you have caused yourself, by your own reckoning, or you can choose to have faith, to go forward knowing that you can be happy, regardless of what the days will bring, that everything will be okay."
By the time we reached Government, I was completely at ease.
"How do you do that?" I asked, looking at him in wonder.
He smiled at me, "I have a loving family who do remind me of what is important now and again. You are not the only one who was afraid about how this course of events would turn out."
Somehow, the fact that he had been upset too, that made me feel even more calm. Without thinking, I reached up and touched his cheek. After a momentary stiffening, he seemed well.
"Thank you," I said.
He shook his head, "I should be thanking you. You have given me a chance to learn to be happier. That alone is worth every grievance that might come my way, to say nothing of that fact that I get to walk this path with you…"
He brushed my cheek in turn and turned to leave. I watched him go, nearly having the door closed on me as the late bell rang.
When Edward met me and walked me to Trig, I left him to head to the bathroom, telling him to go on, that I would go the rest of the way with Jessica. She was at her usual mirror, touching up lip balm and looking preoccupied.
"Hey," I said, not looking forward to this.
Being my best friend and all, she whipped around immediately, smearing lip balm, looking horrified by my tone.
"What?" she demanded desperately.
I sighed, "I may not be going to the-"
"NO!" she all but screamed, dropping the lip balm and grabbing my wrist, "What happened!?"
I walked to the sink, glad that Edward had calmed me enough for this. I pulled out some paper towels and cleaned Jess's cheek of the cherry scented smear as I explained.
"Your dad isn't letting you go to the dance because you didn't tell him you were going?" she asked.
"No," I said. "My dad isn't letting me go to the dance because I purposely told him I was doing something else on Saturday, with no sign I was ever going to tell him about the dance at all."
"Why?" she asked.
"Because I didn't want my dad to know, obviously," I said, knocking hips with her as we headed to class.
"Yeah," she said smiling, "but why though? What did that matter?"
I shook my head, "I didn't know how my dad was going to react. I mean, I noticed that he didn't lock his door, and as soon as I pointed it out, he gave me a key, started locking the door and gave me a pepper spray."
I couldn't remember how, but I had found the pepper spray back in my bag when I had checked my purse after that night was over. I wasn't sure when Edward had done it, but he must have collected it at some point and put it back when I wasn't looking.
"Hmm," said Jess. "I see your point. If you told him you had a boyfriend, it might have been…"
"Like getting interrogated by the chief of police, yeah," I said.
She shrugged, "Maybe not. I mean, yeah, I probably wouldn't have told him right away either, but I would have told him."
I considered that. I hadn't told him. Even when I knew that he knew, I didn't tell him. I just sat back and did the same thing all over again, lied. Now that I was thinking about it, I realized that must have been not a lot of fun for him, being lied to over and over again.
"You're right Jess," I said, my words seriously surprising her.
"I should have told him," I said, "You would have handled this way better than me."
She snorted, "Don't do that! You're supposed to be the moral one who does everything right. I'm supposed to be the wild party girl that teaches you how to live. Don't go shifting the dynamic on me now!"
"Oh yeah," I said, sarcasm thick, "let's go behind the gym and cut class next period and get high and sip Everclear."
Jess looked impressed, "You actually know what Everclear is? You're more corrupt than I thought!"
We enjoyed class, giggling and giving each other significant looks throughout. After class, Mr. Varner actually asked us if he could check our bags when class was over, without saying what it was for but knowing he was looking for anything potentially illicit. We both agreed, because it was hilarious, and we had nothing to hide and Jess loved the cred we got and wary looks from the other students.
"You need to be the bad girl more often," she said.
A cool arm slipped into mine.
"I like her as she is," Edward said, "herself."
Jess tried to look like she wanted to gag, but she before long, she just looked sort of sappy.
I considered that, smiling, "And if I turned into a rebellious party girl?"
Both he and Jess looked as though they were trying not to laugh.
"You don't know," I said, slightly disgruntled. "It could happen."
He smiled, "You could shave your head and be tattooed and favor every flavor of drink and fail all your classes and spend all your time with ruffians; I would but worry for your health and safety and future prospects. My feelings would never change."
It was almost enough to have me consider that path, if only to see how he might react, to see if his feelings did change, but that wasn't me. I knew, and I didn't need to test him, to manipulate him, to be sure.
He walked with us to class, quiet and impassive as Jess and I talked about what might happen if I didn't go to the dance. She seemed surprised that Edward already knew and as acting as though it was no big deal, but then realized that he really did care about me, and gave me a radiant smile as we talked, happy for me. When Edward turned and kissed my hand before departing, her eyes bugged out a bit and as soon as he was gone, she swayed with her swooning.
"You are so lucky!" she cried, hushed and wistful. "If I told Mike I wasn't going to the dance because I was grounded, he would… well, he would probably try to sneak into my room and… well, not that I would stop him…"
She quickly became embarrassed and we found our seats before Spanish began.
Lunch finally arrived, and when Edward came to meet me, he was quiet. I realized that his quiet before was something more than letting us girls talk, and I looked at him more closely.
"What is it?" I asked.
He came up short, then laughed, "Of course. I can hide nothing from you."
He stepped closer, and I found his arm sliding behind my back to settle his hand upon my far hip. It took me a moment for the tingles to play themselves out and the shivers to stop jackhammering up and down my spine. I found myself doing the same, putting my arm around him. My fingers found an empty belt loop and I found I liked sliding my fingers into it.
"You make me very happy," I said, smiling. "But you aren't going to distract me."
He laughed anew.
"Foiled, again!" he said dramatically, and we stepped to line for lunch.
"Well?" I asked.
He nodded an indication at the line, "Let me buy you lunch first."
"Alright," I said, unable to tell at all what was going on from his tone.
He bought lunch, and we sat down together. I was about to ask what was going on, when Alice appeared.
"Go," she said.
Edward looked annoyed, he opened his mouth, but her eyes found his. For a solid thirty seconds, they stared, unblinkingly. Finally, Edward stood and walked away. I was completely baffled.
Alice sat down, an almost imperceptible twitch of her hand the only indication I needed for me to know she wanted me to eat. I did.
"You haven't figured it out yet," she said. "Though, I suspect that it is because you aren't trying, which I like."
I went to open my mouth.
"I like it too," she explained, "that you think of us as humans first."
That was enough.
"You don't read minds," I stated.
She beamed, "I do not."
Her smile continued, as I figured it out. As she knew that I would. Because she could see. Then, I wondered, which came first. Did she know what to say so that I would figure it out because she looked, or did she have to pick her words carefully, each inflection and choice creating a new outcome?
"A bit of both," she said, smiling and prettily crossing her legs and hands, looking like we were high class women sitting down for a proper spot of tea, despite her modern, high school appropriate trendy, high fashion outfit.
"I see," she said, "what people choose with the information they have. When they get new information, their choices can change. I have a lot of practice finding the best new information they need to make an informed decision."
I looked perturbed.
"You control people?" I asked.
She laughed, "No more so than you do. I can't take anyone's choice away. At best I can nudge people down an incline of their own making."
I saw what she was saying. She gave people information, but they still made the decision themselves. It was a bit like giving people a reason to do what they were going to do anyway.
"You're right," she said. "It is all about intent."
You could convince someone to avoid a harmful situation as easily as you could convince someone to enter a dangerous one. Which begged the question…
"Why are you here?" I asked.
She beamed, "I am still surprised at how fast you get here. Every time, it takes no more than ten comments before we get here. This was one of the faster paths."
I shake my head.
"You really can see the future," I said.
She shrugged, "And you really can figure it out."
I looked her in the eyes, "Figure out…what? Going to the dance?"
She grinned at me, "Yep. You have everything you need."
I shook my head, "Then why don't you just tell me."
She laughed, a sound almost unnatural in its perfection, ringing like some ethereal wind through heavenly chimes.
"Two reasons," she said. "One, it will be so much more gratifying to you personally if you are to figure this out on your own, and two, what fun would that be?"
I frowned at her, "I am starting to see why Edward finds you so annoying."
She beamed, "Aw! Thank you!"
"Urgh!" I said, turning back to my food.
She got up and hugged me sideways about the shoulders.
"Don't be too hard on him," she said. "He didn't want this either, but it must be done."
"What?" I asked. She turned and began walking away, Edward returning from the table with his family.
"What was that about?" I asked.
Edward looked… scared almost.
"What is it?" I asked, starting to feel scared myself. I suddenly empathized wholeheartedly with Jess, glad I wasn't applying lip balm.
"I am taking a half day," he said.
I started and stared, "What?"
He sat, "Alice and I are leaving, shortly."
I looked at him, "Why didn't you tell me?"
He tried to smile, but he looked uncomfortable, "Because of the look you are giving me now."
What Alice said clicked, and I relaxed. Then I shot her a dirty look, since she was beaming happily at me from across the room.
Edward gave me a sympathetic look, "She does that."
I felt better, yet still disgruntled, "Why didn't you tell me you were going to go? Now I feel like… I don't know. Like I wasn't appreciating the time we had together enough."
He shrugged and said without criticism, "That is but one choice that you can make."
I sighed then snorted.
"Why do you have to be so reasonable?" I mock complained.
He grinned, "I considered that you might like that better than me trying to convince you that you were wrong."
He was right.
"I told you when I could bear it," he said. "I… I don't want to leave. It isn't that I covet you, that I cling to you for fear of loneliness. I do not want to leave because I wish to be at your side. I do not wish to miss a single moment."
He bowed his head.
"However," he said, almost growled the words, "certain meddlesome sisters have pointed out that I have a responsibility, to myself and to you by proxy, to take care of myself and be proactive in taking care of my body."
I sat a little straighter, but listened on.
"I need to hunt," he said. "I need to see to my hand and I can't do that and stay at the same time. I need to drive a great distance to find what I need, and I won't be back until late tonight. I would have liked to stay the day, but Alice… insisted."
"Insisted?" I asked.
He shook his head, "She says that we are out of balance."
I considered the words.
"In what way?" I asked.
He pushed the tray at me and I took the hint beginning to eat what I could while I could.
"I didn't use the term clinging and coveting by accident," he said. "I am jealous and I do want to keep you safe, but I am wanting those things for selfish reasons and using them as justification to keep you to myself for fear of what might befall you should I not be here."
I finished chewing.
"You still think you are going to lose me?" I asked.
He looked solemn.
"In so many words, yes," he said. "I suppose a better way to put it is that I fear losing you."
He looked at me, his smile brittle.
"I do not yet have faith enough to believe that I could be as happy as you make me without you," he said. "This is me, trying to have faith…"
He sighed and grumbled, "…at the insistence of said meddling sister."
I laughed and Alice and I shared a smile across the room.
"For shame," I said, taking his hand.
I didn't feel so bad now, and something seemed to seep its way into my brain. This wasn't just a lesson to Edward, so to speak. This was a lesson for me too. I could see it, empathize with it so much.
"I am afraid too," I said. "I was afraid that if I told Charlie, he might find some way to keep me from you, to tell me that I was wrong and stupid for caring about you."
He looked confused, "Why would he say such things?"
I shook my head, "It isn't that I am afraid he will say them; I am afraid that they are true. You are not like other boys, and there is some part of me that fears the people will judge me for my actions, will see me as silly and foolish, risking so much for something that may never happen."
I could see the pieces fall into place in his mind, it was so evident upon his face.
"I am, perhaps, a poor choice in boyfriends," he said with a wry smile, then his face fell a bit.
"What exactly may never happen?" he asked.
My smile was endearing at his evident fear.
"That we might succeed in this," I said, waving my hand in indication of us both. "I mean, how many successful teenage relationships are there? You already said, my parents are living proof that this doesn't often happen."
He nodded, "Ah. I see your point."
I finished the last of my food.
"I'm just scared," I said. "I never thought about it, but I am. I never thought I would be the sort to stick her head in the sand and try not to see it, but honestly, ignoring your fear is probably one of the simplest, if worst, ways to deal with said fear."
He nodded, "At some point, we just have to alleviate our own fears, not just cope with them."
I smiled, "Don't worry. If I'm not here when you get back, I'll be just as put out as you are."
Despite himself, he smiled too, hardly able to contain his laughter. Every time, it was defibrillators, a shock to the heart. I didn't think I would ever get used to that smile.
Alice returned then. I barely noticed. Edward had my hand, and we stared into each others' faces, caring not for the outside world. The bell rang, and we stood. He touched my face briefly, and then walked away. I watched him go, enveloped by the memory of his arms around me. Grabbing my bag, I went to class.
I hadn't been sitting in Biology long before Mike came over.
"Where's your boyfriend?" he asked, just this side of snide. "I know he was here today."
"Doctor's appointment," I said easily. "Something about his levels being off."
It wasn't entirely a lie or anything.
"Oh," said Mike. "So, like is he gone for the day?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Do you need a lab partner?" he asked, sort of enthusiastically.
I found myself smiling, "Considering we spent the last two days watching a movie, I doubt there is going to be much of a lab today, but you can always be my partner in Gym."
Mike, to my surprise, sighed and slumped against the lab table before me.
"I'm not good at this," he said.
"At what?" I asked.
"At being friends," he said.
I could sort of see his dilemma. I was sure it was hard for teenage boys, who were so interested in girls, other things seemed so very unimportant. Then, if they found a girl they liked, then said girl showed no interest, what was there for them? Backed by a society that impugned their manhood when they were rejected? It was something we had in common, learning that our worth was dependent on how desirable we were, especially to those whom we desired. I took a moment to think about what my life would have been like had Edward showed no interest in me. I was used to boys not being interested in me, good-looking or otherwise. Mike, likable charismatic popular Mike, was not.
I shrugged, "You don't have to be."
He looked at me, trying to understand what I meant.
"You don't have to be bad at being friends," I explained. "Sure, it will take some work, but that is what life is. Or you can just not be my friend. That is an option too. Or, you can try to date me like a clingy jerk even though I have said no."
"I wouldn't do that," he said quickly.
"Good," I said smiling. "Because, despite not wanting to date you, I do like you Mike. Being my friend isn't less than what you want. It is just different. But we can't be friends if you try to treat me like a girlfriend, or worse, are just waiting to swoop in and try to be my boyfriend if I become single again. That isn't fair, to me or to you, or to Jess."
Mike looked like he was about to say something, but I cut him off.
"Think about it," I said, as Mr. Banner started gathering the class's attention. He nodded and found his usual seat.
The class went quickly, and I was grateful for that. It left little time to wonder about Edward, to think about what he was doing at that exact moment. I wished that I knew. I wondered if he was thinking of me. It occurred to me for the first time that I had not been nearly so interested about the goings on in his head as he was of the goings on in mine. I wanted to know him, but I never felt any need to know his thoughts outside of what he wanted to share. I supposed it was different for us, since he knew the thoughts of others around him with or without their consent. I wondered what that might be like and decided I didn't want it. It wasn't necessary for me to be happy and I could do without it, to say nothing of the fact that I was a big fan of the whole consent thing. Choice, after all, was the most important right people had.
Gym was about what I expected it to be. We played a sport, Coach let me play as much as I felt like, which was usually only enough to make sure I didn't hurt anyone or myself, and Mike picked up the slack. Afterward, before we changed out, Mike caught up with me.
"I want to be your friend," he said. "This whole, halfway thing is a bunch of bunk. It isn't fun, and I just feel… I don't know… so needy all the time. But, I don't know, I don't really understand how to do this. I've never had to."
I smiled, "Yeah. Trying to do something new is hard. I mean, I have never had a boyfriend before either. There are times when I don't know what I am doing, and I am afraid to do stupid things without even realizing it."
"Like what?" he asked, I wasn't sure if he was really interested or if he just wanted to hear about our relationship not being perfect. I thought for a moment.
"Sometimes," I said, "when Edward is scared, he tries to make my decisions for me."
Mike looked upset, "That jerk-"
"-did nothing you didn't try to do yourself," I pointed out.
He shut up.
"I don't like anyone making my decisions for me," I went on, "so it is ironic that I tried to control him right back to get him to stop, to behave the way I wanted him to."
Mike looked a little surprised at that.
"Why?" he asked.
"Why is it ironic?" I asked back.
"No," he said, sounding amused, "why did you do it?"
I thought about it, "Same reason he did. When we feel scared, we do stupid things. And that is okay. Neither of us is going to get this right on the first try. We don't need to. Being imperfect is all part of being a person. I am not going to hold it against you if you do it wrong or if you go back to trying to be my boyfriend again without thinking. I will gladly point it out to you, if you like."
He nodded, "I don't want to hurt Jess. I… she…"
He looked pretty cute, all worried about her. Jess was going to die. I could feel little butterflies of excitement at just the thought of telling her about this.
"You care about her," I said, helping him out.
"Yeah," he said, a small smile on his face, his eyes and thoughts far away. "I… we broke up before because I didn't know how. Like, I wanted to but I couldn't do anything right and she kept wanting more, and after a while, I just felt like I was doing what she wanted rather than what I-"
He stopped, and looked at me with a shocked expression, somewhere between awe and laughter.
"She was making my decisions for me!" he almost yelled.
I laughed.
"Why do you think that was?" I asked.
"Because," he said, "she was scared. She didn't know what to do because I was her first real boyfriend, and she was just doing the best she could."
I smiled. He looked so… I don't know. It was like, he wasn't just his usual Mike, the jockish boy who romped with his friends and knew all the right things to say. He was… more himself, more honest, in his face and expression. I could see it clearly; he wanted to find Jess. He wanted to feel close to her and be close to her and he knew something more about her, the real her, and he wasn't trying to make her wrong or be right and explain it to her. He saw her, knew that it was okay for her to be flawed, as we all were, and wanted to be with her.
"Go," I said, hoping he would go before I started tearing up. I hurried myself, changing out in record time. To my surprise, I actually was out in the parking lot before him. Jess was waiting, as she usually was. She saw me and looked a little confused.
"Where's your boyfriend?" she asked, looking unsure. "He didn't break up with you because of the dance, did he?"
I grinned.
"That's a no then," she sighed. "Don't do that to me! I was- what?"
I was still grinning.
"What?" she asked, focused on me, in no way aware that Mike was coming up behind her. She gave out a little squeak as he bent, almost smothering her as he slid his arms around her, his shoulders atop hers, his head next to hers, nearly toppling the two of them.
"Hey," he said, and that one word was filled with such a depth of meaning that Jess froze.
"Hi," she said, almost timidly. For a moment, she looked like she was going to kiss him, but he wouldn't let go of her, wouldn't give her enough room to get her mouth to him.
"Mike," she said surprised, wonder starting to creep into her expression. "What?"
"I'm glad," he said, still not letting go.
"Of what?" she said, pleased but confused.
"For you," he said. "I want to be your boyfriend again."
Jess looked like she was going to cry. He couldn't hold on to her anymore. She slipped his grip and jumped him, throwing her arms around his neck.
"But," he finally said, and she slid down, not looking exactly worried, but certainly concerned.
"I need to do it my way this time," he said. "Last time, I did things all your way, and it didn't work for me. I want to do things my way too. I want to show you how I feel, and I can't do it if all I am doing is what you want me to do. Is…"
He looked almost worried.
"Is that okay?" he asked, looking so very young and vulnerable. A tear rolled from one of Jess's eyes. I was certainly trying not to blink.
She nodded, as though unable to speak. The smile that lit his face was staggering, earnest and true. Their exchange was starting to gain the attention of more than a few passing students.
"Yeah?" he asked, starting to lean closer to her. She still only nodded, but he stopped, not leaning in more.
"Yeah?" he asked again, refusing to lean further. She tried to hold back the laughter but couldn't.
"Yes," she said loudly, and only then did he kiss her, though it was hardly a solid kiss, the two of them smiling too much to keep it together. Finally, he picked her up, her arms around his neck, her hands gripping the others' elbow. Her tearful eyes found mine, and her words mouthed 'Thank you' as her eyes seemed to ask how this moment was even possible.
I started walking away. I got only about three steps before I felt Jess's hand on my arm. I turned and she hugged me.
"How?" she asked, holding me close.
"I told him the truth," I said, "about me. Some stuff applied to you two too."
She shook her head, starting to bubble over in girlish delight.
"Thank you," she said, pulling back. To my surprise, it was Mike's turn next. He hugged me, and it was remarkable how obviously platonic his embrace was.
"Thanks," he said too, and turning, he grabbed Jess's hand and they headed for his car, off to do whatever happy people do when they are in love.
I turned and realized, I didn't know where I was going. It was almost as though my destination wasn't in my head, like I was trying to go back down a path, but I didn't know where I had started. Only then did I realize why.
I hadn't gotten myself to school. Edward had driven me. He wasn't here now. How was I going to get home?
I sighed, I prepared myself to walk home, or maybe text Jess to see if I could borrow her car while she was off with Mike, when I saw… my truck. It was parked in its usual spot. I checked my ring. The key wasn't there.
"Show off," I muttered again, walking to the truck. The door was unlocked. The key was in the ignition. There was a note on the seat. I read, "Be safe". I smiled.
After a quick drive home, I set to work. I pulled my dress out of my closet and set it where I could see it. It was unwrinkled and clean, so I hung it on the door and went straight to work on my homework. While I finished it, I was thinking about Alice the whole time.
She was right, dagnabbit! All the way around she was right. We had been out of balance. I was focusing too much on Edward, fearing that I would lose him and had to get what I could while I could. Letting go allowed me to be present for my friends, let me help them and talk to them about the truth, which was gratifying, and let me figure out what I had been doing wrong. When we are scared, we make mistakes. We try to control, to minimize our fears. But the best thing we can do, at every fork in our path into the future, was telling the truth. And that, that was what Dad wanted.
A quick run to the store, and I had everything that I needed. By the time Charlie walked in the door, I was nearly done.
"Don't come in yet," I said from the kitchen. I heard him pause at his old bureau where he was putting away his gun.
"Okay," he said, sounding wary and weary.
He went to the living room and turned on the television to wait. Finally, after plating, I said, "Okay. It's ready."
The steamed veggies were on the table, but not on his plate like they were mine. He could get them himself if he decided he wanted them, though he usually didn't. Heaped on his plate was a load of his favorite, Grandma's Swan Stroganoff.
"What's this?" he asked, looking even more wary but softening at the sight.
"Dinner," I said.
"What did you do?" he asked suspiciously.
"Nothing," I said, not a hint of defensiveness to me.
"Okay," he said, almost disbelieving but willing to go along with it for now.
We sat and ate. It really was good. I had outdone myself. Granted, the degree of care I put into making it this time was pretty extreme. I had pulled out the index card, even though I had made it enough times to have it memorized. I had triple checked every measurement and note, had picked fresh, local, and/or organic items where I could. I could understand why grandma said this was the meal I should only make for family or the man I intended to marry.
"I hope you don't think this can buy you out of being grounded," he said.
I came up short.
"What?" I said in surprise. "No, Dad. That isn't what I am doing here at all."
I sighed. I looked at him. He wasn't exactly stern. It was more like… he felt like he had to be angry, he had to be gruff and stamp his foot down. It was as though he needed to do these things in order to live up to the idea of being a good parent, a good father, what everyone expected him to be.
"You were right to ground me," I said.
It was his turn to look shocked.
"I was lying to you," I admitted, "for totally stupid reasons."
He looked at me, his face clearing asking what those reasons were.
"I…" I said, feeling that pull, that part of me that wanted to make up excuses, that didn't want to admit aloud my flaws and my stupidity. But if I was ever going to get through this, it needed to be honest.
"I was scared," I said, and I could see the disarming effect my sincerity had.
"Of?" he asked.
I swallowed hard, not getting the lump out of my throat.
"That I wouldn't be good enough," I said.
"Why?" he asked. "Why wouldn't you be good enough for him?"
"Not him," I said. "For you."
He froze.
"Bella," he said, practically an admonishment. But he shut up and let me say my piece.
"I've never had a boyfriend," I said, "and, I guess, some part of me always believed that you liked that about me, that you would react badly if I started dating. It sort of felt like you were just protecting me from the boys, but you were keeping me away from them, with your behavior."
He dropped his head for a moment.
"I just thought," I said, "that if I admitted to you that I was dating, that you would read me the riot act and tell me that he wasn't good enough, and the entire time it would feel like I was the one who wasn't good enough, that I was the one being stupid and that my decisions didn't matter."
He didn't say anything.
"I know," I said, "we don't really do the heavy stuff in this house, so it is hard for me to do the honesty thing sometimes, but I didn't have to lie to you like that. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."
Aside from lying by omission about my vampire beau, but why split hairs?
"Bella," he said again, but this time, it sounded like a concession, or maybe a confession.
"I…" he started, then sighed and tried again.
"I haven't been that fair to you," he said. "I really do try to be fair in my life, as often as I can, but when it comes to you and your safety, I guess I have a tendency to go overboard in a hurry."
I tried not to smile.
"Well," he said, "anyways, I suppose I can understand you behaved the way you did. It isn't as though I think any boy is good enough for you, but I didn't think about how that would seem to you. You are important, and you get to live your own life. You are a young lady now, soon to be out of the house, sooner than I really care to think about, which is probably why I keep trying to be your Dad a little longer."
I got up. He kept facing his food, which I expected, so my brief hug about his shoulders, mostly from behind, didn't put him off too much.
"You will always be my Dad," I said, my head next to his. "Whether I live here or not."
Briefly, he set his hand on my arm. He smiled as I took my seat again.
"So," he said, "tell me about this guy."
"Edward," I said.
Dad froze.
"The doctor's boy?" he asked, looking like he was about to start ramping up. "Which one? Not that big one, right?"
I smiled, "No, Dad. Edward. The youngest."
Well, sort of. His brothers were both Seniors.
"That's the loner type?" he asked. "That's the one you are dating-"
He paused, taking a deep breath.
"I am sure it's fine," he said, his teeth gritted.
I laughed. I couldn't help it. He relaxed, sighing and failing not to smile, if only a little one.
"What time is he picking you up for the dance?" he asked.
I stared at him, "Dad?"
He shook his head.
"I wasn't going to make you miss it," he said. "I would have talked with you tomorrow morning before I left, hung around until you got up, would have told you about the merits of honesty and all that. I mean, you already bought the dress…"
I don't know where it came from. But I came the closest I ever had to a Jess level of reaction
"Thank you, Dad!" I said, throwing my arms around him again. "Thank you!"
I ran to the phone.
"Not so fast," he said, and I stopped just sort of grabbing the cordless.
"Dinner first," he said. "And tell me your plans for tomorrow."
"I am leaving here around three to go to Jess's," I said between large bites. "We are leaving from her place with the boys around six for dinner and going to the dance straight after."
"What time are you going to be home?" he asked.
"I am not sure," I said. "Knowing Edward, early-ish."
He gave me a weird look.
"He is sort of old-fashioned," I explained. "He wouldn't want to keep me out too late. People would talk and all that."
"Huh," said Charlie, relaxing further. "Nice one, Eddie."
"Edward," I said brusquely, and Dad laughed.
I finished dinner quickly and Charlie waved a hand to indicate he would handle the dishes. Given his expression, there might not be any leftovers other than the veggies.
I grabbed the phone and ran upstairs. On the third ring, Jess picked up.
"Three o'clock?" I asked. That was all I needed to say before the squealing began.