Chapter 3
Is she really going out with him?
Is she really gonna take him home tonight?
Is she really going out with him?
'Cause if my eyes don't deceive me,
There's something going wrong around here" - Joe Jackson, "Is She Really Going Out With Him", Hit #21 on the Billboard Hot 100 in September 1978
On Saturday afternoon I break up with Jake in the parking lot of the Gas 'n Gulp, while drinking a huge Tab and chewing on a licorice whip.
He doesn't seem too surprised; he also doesn't seem too bothered. When I declare our relationship over, he just says 'yeah'.
We hang out for a while after that, making fun of the meatheads comparing muscle cars over at the car wash. It's nice that we can still hang out without it being uncomfortable. You never know when I'm going to need a ride, because I am car-less despite my constant pleading with Charlie.
After Jake drops me off, I lay around my room waiting for Angela, absentmindedly picking at the broken rattan pieces coming off of my white wicker headboard. I'm kind of sad I won't have a summer love, like Ang and Ben. They're like Captain and Tenille. So perfect together. I let myself daydream about being on a date with Edward, imagining what his rough hands would feel like holding mine in a dark theater, what his hair would feel like after coming out of the ocean and dripping salt water on me before swooping down to kiss me in front of everyone.
Finally, Angela arrives at the house, making sure to show up after dinner. She greets Charlie and Renee and we go right to my room to start getting ready. I'm nervous about the party, attending a bonfire with a crowd of people older than me that I don't know, but I'm excited too.
I put my hair up earlier in Rosalie's huge curlers and am now sporting some serious Farrah waves. A ton of Aqua Net holds it all nicely in place. I think it looks good, and Ang agrees.
Sipping from the cans of beer she stole from her father's garage fridge, we laugh and pose in front of the mirror a little, doing the Charlie's Angels move from the opening credits.
"Too bad Alice isn't here, we need a Sabrina." Angela pouts at the mirror, holding her fingers into a gun shape.
"I knew there was no way she was coming. Her parents are hippies turned born again, uptight Christians." I shake my hair, making sure it's not going to move.
"I think they're overcompensating for years of free love."
"Ew. Okay Ang, we look hot," I say to her reflection in the mirror, while she eyes mine up and down.
"Oh man, those shorts are tiny." I look down at my new purple satin shorts and smile in agreement.
"Yeah, and they match this top I stole out of Rosalie's room perfectly." I squish my boobs together in the tube top, pink starting at the top and graduating towards purple at the bottom. It's her newest one and she hasn't even worn it yet. She's going to murder me.
"Won't she notice?" Angela questions as she pulls the neckline of her white halter top down some more.
"She won't care," I lie. "I borrow her shit all the time."
"Uh, maybe her more conservative stuff. You've never gone out looking like this." Angela motions her hands towards me.
"I know! But we're seniors now. Time to let loose. Let's go wait for your brother outside before Renee and Charlie come in from the pool though, just in case."
We check the hallway and the coast is clear, so we scoot towards the door to the backyard and I scream goodbye out the opening, without revealing myself.
"Night honey, be home by midnight." I hear Charlie say, thankful he's not getting up.
"One," I yell.
"Midnight."
"Twelve-forty-five."
"Twelve-thirty," he acquiesces.
"Deal! Night, Renee!"
I hear what I think is a slurry goodbye and Angela and I hightail it out to her brother's Camaro idling at the curb.
"Hey Steve! Thanks for driving us tonight." I climb in the backseat. Angela pushes the front seat back in place and settles into the car.
"No problem, Bella." He glances back at me and I grin internally when I see his eyes bug out.
"Geez Bella, when did you grow up?" He wiggles his eyebrows at me and Angela hits him and tells him to start driving.
As we're coasting down PCH, windows down and music blaring, Steve tokes up and passes it to Ang, who then passes it to me. By the time we arrive at Zuma, I'm feeling good from the beer and the pot. I'm a little less nervous, except for the rabid butterflies messing with my stomach, in anticipation of being able to look at Edward all night.
The salty beach air surrounds me as we exit the car, the ocean waves making a continuous sound under the music and activity down by the water. Angela and I decide to walk in purposefully, acting like there's no reason for us not to be here, and I'm reassured when I see a couple of other kids from our grade hanging around. We follow along with Steve anyway, and I look up as we walk. The sky is kind of starry, but the smog from LA shields a lot of it. The sand is annoying to walk on in our Vans but we manage, and make a beeline for the keg near the bonfire where we pay our two bucks and fill up our cups.
Standing off to the side near the makeshift stereo, we dance a little and wiggle our asses, whispering to each other when someone checks us out. For a brief moment, I wonder if this is how Rosalie and the Bimbo Box girls feel all the time. I think I like it.
I glance around for Edward on the down low, not wanting to alert Angela that I have a mission. I don't see him right away and I wonder if maybe they decided not to come. They weren't at dinner tonight. Just as I'm about to get moody, Ang hits my elbow with hers and nods her head towards the parking lot. "Rosalie's here."
I try not to whip my head around too quickly and expose my excitement, so I casually mutter 'hmm' in return and flip my hair, turning to look over my shoulder without looking too anxious.
I don't see him at first, I just see Rosalie giggling with Lauren, aka BB one, and my stomach drops in disappointment. Just as I'm about to turn back to Ang, I catch a glimpse of his hair out of the corner of my eye. There is no sunlight left, but somehow there is light shining on him like a halo, catching the fire and heat that is Edward. I wonder if he carries a spotlight around.
I take a sip of beer and watch him move down the beach over the rim of my cup. He walks past Rosalie and BB one, and makes his way over to Sam Ulley and the surf crew. It's probably only my imagination, but I swear I see Rosalie shoot a dirty look at his back. My insides jump at the thought they might be fighting. If they break up, that's good, right? But then I won't see him at our monster meals anymore. It's a dilemma.
He accepts a joint from Sam and takes a cup of beer offered by some girl. His face is beautiful in the blaze of the fire, and I watch as he gives her his lazy smile, the one I'm dying to have thrown my way.
I sigh, and the night I was excited for begins to feel less fun. The ache I have for him is intense, and the disappointment I continue to set myself up for is becoming unbearable. Not being able to share it with anyone makes it harder, even if it is my choice. Not wanting to fall down the rabbit hole of self-pity and loathing, I try to tell myself that this crush I have is ridiculous, that Edward Cullen would never want to spend time with someone like me. He's twenty, I'm seventeen. He goes to UCLA, I'm still in high school. He dates Rosalies and I date fellow high schoolers like cold and bland Milk Jake.
Making an effort to laugh with Ang and Ben, who showed up sometime during my Edward haze, I try to get back in the swing of the party. I'm successful for a while, dancing with a guy named Jared who has his shirt off and keeps poking the comb sticking out of his back pocket on my thigh. He's pretty cute though, so I don't mind too much.
A little while later, we take a smoke break and walk away from the fire and music, and I look around for Rosalie who I assume hasn't seen me or she'd have come over to yell at me about the borrowed tube top or existing in general. Everyone in California is blonde but Ang, Alice and me, so it's hard to find her at first. Eventually I see her near the first aid station, talking to some dude in the shadows.
I squint my eyes and crane my neck trying to see who it might be. I definitely don't want to watch her and Edward making out, but when I look around, I see him over by the keg, so it's definitely not Rosalie's boyfriend up there with her and I feel elated and sick in the pit of my stomach at the same time.
Angela sticks her face next to mine to see what I'm looking at and sucks in a breath. "Oooh that's Steve's dealer!" she whispers harshly in my ear. I watch as they move out of the shadow and I gasp.
"The creepy dude from the used car lot is Steve's dealer?" I look around quickly to see if I said that too loud. No one seems to be paying any attention to me so I go back to gaping.
"Yeah. Emmett something. Why is Rosalie hanging out with him?"
"I dunno, is she scoring? I would think your boyfriend would do that for you." I look back at Edward who is laughing with Sam and the guys, seemingly not aware that his girlfriend is hanging out with creepy used car dude.
"I don't think that's what she's doing," Angela says while clearing her throat. I look back to the couple and my eyes widen as I watch Emmett touch Rosalie's hair and push it behind her shoulder, keeping his hand in place and leaning in to kiss her.
"Oh my god, what is she thinking?" I watch in horror, stunned that she would cheat when she has a boyfriend like Edward Cullen. Especially when he's standing not fifty yards from her.
My heart starts beating and I feel awful. Rosalie breaks from Emmett and while he goes back towards the parking lot, she seems to be walking right towards me.
She looks unsure and pissed off all at the same time. "Hey, Angela," she says to my friend who responds with a quiet 'hello' back.
"Bella, is that my shirt?"
"Huh? Oh, um, yeah. I borrowed it."
"Well I guess I don't have to worry about you stretching it out." She gives me a half smile. "Seriously, it looks cute on you."
I bug my eyes at her and realize she's being nice so I don't open my trap.
"Do Mom and Charlie know you're here?"
"Not exactly."
She rolls her eyes at me and huffs. "Just don't get drunk, okay? I don't want to have to cover for you." With that, she walks away and towards Edward. He glances at her and she drapes her arm on his shoulder, leaning up to whisper in his ear. He shakes his head once and I watch as she pushes him and stomps away.
That is interesting and will be played over in my head for the next few hours.
A little while later, Jared comes back around with some weed so I take a hit, and we talk for a bit. Well, he talks about surfing and I just nod my head. I like the fact that an older guy seems to be interested, and that makes my heart swell stupidly, thinking maybe Edward will soon see me differently too. I lick my lips and bat my eyelashes; everything Seventeen tells you to do to "be a successful flirt!".
I'm about to answer a question Jared has asked when I feel a hand tightly grip my arm and turn me around, making me stumble in the sand to keep my balance. My beer spills onto my foot and I look at the hand briefly, confused, before shooting my eyes up to the asshole holding onto me. I'm stunned when my eyes meet the black stare of my crush.
"Jesus fuck Swansong, go put some fucking clothes on," he growls at me between clenched teeth.
I'm just staring at him, torn between awe that he's talking to me, exhilaration that he's touching me, and anger that he's ordering me.
All I can come up with is a very eloquent, "What?"
Before I can make sense of what just happened, I'm left standing by the fire alone with my mouth hanging open, watching him walk away.
The next morning, I'm woken up by the smells of something dying in the kitchen, so I lay in bed going over the previous night's events, avoiding whatever might be happening to things that were once edible on the other side of the house.
To say last night left me speechless would be an understatement. I wasn't dressed any differently than any girl on that beach, or even Rosalie whom he seems to think looks good when she wears that stuff on a daily basis. Hell, it was her shirt. It's the fashion now, so I'm not sure what his issue is.
After he stormed off, I didn't see him or Rosalie again, and Ang and I left soon after, getting a ride home from Ben. I didn't want to tell her what happened with Edward while we were in the car, and I knew she was now in church so I couldn't call her, but I was dying to know what she thought of the whole thing. She must've seen it.
It was just so weird.
I mean, he never talks to me. When he finally decides to he goes about it in that way? Maybe Rosalie put him up to it. Maybe she was mad about the shirt but didn't want to start something in case I ratted out her little meeting with creepy used car dude. But it's most likely Charlie's fault. Edward kissing up to his girlfriend's father by starting his babysitting duties early.
Whatever the reason, the more I think about it, the more pissed I am because he did it in front of Jared, basically making me feel like a child. If this is what he thought Charlie meant when he said to keep an eye on me, he's going to get an earful the next time I see him.
The sound of the front door opening and closing rouses me from my thoughts and I lean up on my elbow to look out the window that faces the driveway. I see a gold Trans Am peeling away from the house and then I hear Rosalie's door close.
I quickly scramble out of bed, tripping on my bedspread, and knock softly on Rosalie's door.
"Go away, please."
"Rose, it's me," I say through the closed door.
I hear Rosalie sigh but she tells me to enter. Pushing the door open, I see her sitting at her makeup table still dressed in what she had on last night. Her hair is a mess and her eyes and nose are red.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks. You smell like ass."
I lean against the poster-covered wall, my fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You sound like you're getting a cold. Were you crying?" Maybe she and Edward broke up?
Rosalie looks in the mirror and rubs her face. "I'm fine, just tired."
I look at her for a minute but decide to let it go. If I push her, I don't think she'd tell me anything. Maybe if I wait until we're lounging in the den later, she'll open up.
"Is there something you want? I want to go to sleep." She gets up and pulls her shirt off over her head, replacing it with her well-worn Rolling Stones shirt. After removing her shorts, she throws them towards the hamper and falls back into bed. I look at the empty plastic packet dusted with white residue that's fallen out onto the floor and walk back out of her room, closing the door behind me.
PB Fun Fact: I begged my parents to buy me a sequin tube top when I was about nine or ten. They caved, and I was only allowed to wear my bright red sparkler in the house while I performed the soundtrack to Grease on the fireplace wall that acted as my stage.
Thanks to my beach babes, CarrieZM and LayAtHomeMom
(Are you reading Lay's latest, Beneath the Branches? Holy hell am I enjoying it! Run and find it now!)