*peaks out* So, um... hi!
I know it has been a very long time since I posted, I am so sorry for the wait and so grateful for all of your patience. Life happened a lot and this chapter just would not come together in places, but I'm pretty happy with it now and I hope it was worth the wait.
Enjoy!
Chapter 11: Complications
We walked side by side to Biology. He'd stopped asking questions, at least for the moment, which was both a blessing and a curse. While it gave me a break from the onslaught, the lack of distraction allowed me to become aware once again of the amount of people watching us. McKayla, walking about ten paces ahead of us with Angela, kept turning back to look over her shoulder in a way that was obviously meant to be surreptitious, but which was completely failing. Edward seemed not to notice, so I tried to ignore it too; after the fourth or fifth time, Angela said something to her in a low voice and she finally stopped.
When I glanced up at Edward, he had that slightly unfocused look on his face that I was learning was a sure sign that he was listening in to someone's mind. My own curiosity was well and truly piqued, and I couldn't help asking, "So what's the verdict?"
He blinked once, startled, and then his expression turned confused as he looked down at me. "What?"
"What are people thinking about us?" I clarified. "You know, so I'm prepared for any future interrogations."
He made a face. "You don't want to hear it. No, you don't need to hear it."
"I do," I insisted. "Please, I'd rather know. I'm only going to imagine it's much worse than it is if you don't tell me."
He didn't look at all happy about the prospect of revealing what he knew, but he was wavering ever so slightly. Taking a risk and hoping it would pay off, I looked straight into his eyes (praying silently that I didn't trip while I wasn't watching where I was going) and said, "Please," in my most persuasive voice, the type that I used when I was trying to get Beau to do something.
It worked. I could tell he was still reluctant, but he sighed heavily.
"Most of it is fairly predictable. People are surprised and they want to know how this happened. There's a lot of wild speculation, and some of it is close to the truth. The boys in particular are doing a good deal of..." He cringed. "Visualising."
No need to ask him to clarify what he meant by that. There was a tension in his shoulders that had been lacking for most of the morning. When I looked down, his hand was balled in a tight fist at his side, just like the day we met. Like that day, I sensed the thinly veiled fury that he was holding back. Whatever it was that people were thinking was clearly bothering him.
I reached down and gently, tentatively, brushed my fingertips against the back of the clenched fist. "I'm sorry."
The fingers flexed, then relaxed. Looking up again, I saw him watching me with a startled, perplexed expression. "Why are you apologising? It isn't your fault that teenage boys are so horrendously disrespectful inside the privacy of their own heads."
"I know," I assured him. "But it's obviously upsetting you, and I'm sorry for that. I wish you didn't have to hear it."
His face took on a note of what I could only describe as wondering which made me faintly uncomfortable. I felt the blush rising and hurried to try and change the subject.
"Anything less... explicit?"
Edward didn't seem completely distracted from the unpleasant images he was seeing, but he did answer the question. "McKayla is analysing everything we do ready to give you a rundown as soon as you ask her for it. There are a lot of comparisons being made to romantic comedies." That at least made him smile slightly, an amused tilt to his head. "Angela is surprised but pleased for us, that's refreshing."
"She's nice," I agreed, and he hummed.
"Yes, a very restful mind, I've found. I preferred looking through her when I was keeping tabs on you the other night."
I made a face. "I'll be honest, that's a little creepy."
"Sorry," he said, not sounding it at all, and returned to the original point. "Really, most of it is typical baseless small-town gossip. It probably doesn't help that I've always been so distant. You're the first girl any of them have seen me take an interest in."
A happy, bubbly feeling fluttered in my stomach at that. I knew there was no chance that he hadn't had an interest of some kind in someone over the many years of his life, but it was still nice to hear that I was at least the first one in a while.
We had reached Biology by this point and I could feel the eyes of the entire class on us as we walked to our lab table. While not as numerous as the watchers in the halls, our classmates were no less impactful in their stares, both subtle and decidedly not. When we sat down, Edward didn't angle his seat away from me and sit as far away as he could, like he had every day for the last two months. Granted, he didn't shift the stool any closer to me, but he didn't move it away either. We were as close as we'd been in my bedroom, our arms almost touching where they rested on the desk. Feeling bold, I stuck out my pinkie finger and poked the back of his hand. He smiled warmly and poked me back. My heart soared.
"What do our brothers and sisters think?" I asked, realising suddenly that these most crucial opinions had not been part of his little roundup.
My question made his smile twist and I nearly regretted it, but I was too curious to feel too bad.
"Well, I think you can probably guess Edythe's feelings on the matter. She's ecstatic that I've finally given in to my own desire. She has always been an advocate of selfishness."
I gave him a reproving look. "That's not a very nice thing to say about your sister."
He was nonplussed. "I'm afraid I'm not always the most loving brother in the world. We have these spats quite a bit. I just wish she wasn't treating this-" He gestured between us. "-like some trivial argument about music preferences."
I was about to probe further, but at that moment Mr Banner, King of Excellent Timing, walked into the room pushing a bulky black cart with an antiquated television and VCR setup on it. The atmosphere in the room lifted instantly and at last the attention moved off of us. Nothing was more exciting than a movie day. Mr Banner didn't say anything about taking notes as he wrestled with the video tape, so a lot of people began putting away their notebooks and pens and settling in for an easy class. I left mine out but didn't uncap the pen, instead tapping it softly against the paper. At last, the VCR accepted the tape and started whirring to life, and Mr Banner crossed the room to switch off the lights.
We were suddenly plunged into darkness and the electric charge I had felt in my room the other night came back in full force. I was abruptly hyperaware of the sheer lack of distance between Edward and I, less than an inch separating us from our hands all the way up to our shoulders. The current seemed to jump across the space, zinging through me and making me feel on edge in the best way. I had a strong, irrational urge to cradle his face again, to brush my fingers along his cheekbone in the dark where no one could see. At the same time, doing that here, in this big public space with so many people around, felt fundamentally wrong. Those moments we had shared, so few, so precious, so hard won in a way, they were something to be treasured and kept private, just for us. I was glad I had resisted when the opening credits began, and the room was lit up just enough for the shapes of people to be visible; anyone who happened to glance back would see what I was doing. My eyes slid sideways almost without permission, and I nearly giggled when I saw Edward was doing the same thing. His eyes burned, clearly feeling the same charge that I was, and so intense that it made me feel a little woozy. We grinned at each other for a moment, then I felt a tiny spark in the electric field as his little finger reached out and poked my hand again. As he pulled it back into his fist, I quickly extended my own finger and curled it around his, holding him in place by force of will if not actual physical strength. He seemed a tad startled for half a second, then relaxed and squeezed my finger gently.
It was a long class, longer than even the most interminable Calculus or horrific Gym lessons. I couldn't even focus on the film enough to say what it was about, never mind actually use any of the no doubt vital information it contained. The subtle lightning kept coursing throughout my body, centred on that one point of connection between Edward and I. All I could pay attention to was those delicately entwined fingers. I thought about McKayla and Jeremy, holding hands so everyone would know they were an item, showing off their togetherness for everyone to see. This wasn't quite holding hands, and it certainly wasn't public and ostentatious, but it had what I imagined would be the same effect – the feeling of connection, the sense of being joined with another person, sharing a space and a moment, just this moment, soon to end but for now, perfect. Each time I looked over at Edward, I could tell he felt the same way; there was a different set to his shoulders, less worried tension and more proud poise. He smiled whenever he caught me looking, and I couldn't help making mental comparisons to the glares of that first hour sat at this table. It felt like we were both different people, so much had changed, so much was new. I knew which version of Edward I preferred, that much was certain.
At last, the light came on again. Edward released my finger, not sharply enough to be insulting but quick enough so that no one around us would have seen. I didn't mind, thinking again about private moments. I wasn't ready to share those with the world yet.
"Well, that was certainly an experience," he commented nonchalantly.
I could only hum in agreement, flexing my fingers a few times as I packed my stuff away. We joined the tide of students leaving class and I felt a little unsteady on my feet. Not enough to wobble or be noticeable, but enough that I knew Gym was going to be interesting today.
"Back to our conversation from before," I ventured once we were outside and curving towards the gym. "What about your other siblings?"
Edward shrugged dismissively. "As I've said before, they think I'm insane."
I frowned. "But didn't you also say they're angry with you?"
"Yes, but to be honest that's mostly Rosalie. She's absolutely furious at how I am, in her eyes, endangering the family by going public with this."
Too much to unpack there for the length of time we had; I saved further questions for another time, knowing I wasn't likely to forget, especially if the girl kept glaring at me.
"And the others?"
"Jasper is of Rosalie's mind as well, but more... concerned. He's always been a pragmatic individual and he can't help thinking of certain... solutions to any potential problems. His current thoughts are causing a bit of tension between us." He saw my concerned expression and immediately started waving away any potential expressions of worry. "Nothing we can't handle, and we've probably had worse conflicts in the past. It will pass. Eleanor is a little worried, but generally fairly chilled about it, just like she is about everything. Alice..." He sighed heavily. "Alice is as exultant as Edythe. They're a frequent tag team, but I don't often have their combined efforts turned against me and it's exhausting."
"I'm not sure I understand," I admitted.
He thought for a moment, trying to find the right phrasing.
"My sisters... have a very high opinion of me, much better than I have of myself. They believe there are certain things I am deserving of, that the universe owes me, I suppose. They think – Edythe especially – that if I want something and it isn't hurting anybody, then I should have it. Not to mention that Alice saw this outcome as a possibility, and she has absolute faith in her visions."
We had reached the entrance to the gym by that point. I wasn't entirely sure that I understood what he meant about Alice and Edythe, but the takeaway was that they approved of me, and that was something to be pleased about. Before I left for class, I had one more question. "And what about my brother? Concerned or celebratory?"
Edward grinned. "Beau is planning to tell you everything he is thinking later, and has very pointedly asked me, told me really, not to give you any warnings."
"He won't know," I protested. "Come on, give me something."
He shook his head stubbornly. "No, he would figure it out. He is just as perceptive as you are, and he can read you much better than I can. Besides, you need to get to class."
I sighed, resigned. It seemed he could be just as obstinate as I was when he wanted to be. I turned to leave, then whirled around on the same step as another thought occurred to me. "You aren't going to be watching, are you?"
His expression was all innocence, too innocent – I had hit on exactly his plan.
I groaned. "Please don't. I can handle you overhearing some conversations or whatever but watching me do Gym is just going to be embarrassing for both of us."
Edward chuckled softly. "I'm sure it isn't that bad. Besides, there's been enough reference to your PE perils at this point to make me curious. Just... do me a favour?"
"No," I said peevishly.
I almost instantly regretted my attitude when he reached out and cupped my cheek, drifting his fingers down the curve of my jaw and off the point of my chin. The skin along the path he'd followed began tingling alarmingly, my mind went blank and my heart took off.
"Try not to actually hurt yourself," he murmured seriously.
Numbly, I nodded. He smiled softly, said, "I'll see you after class," then turned and walked away. I had to take a moment to recover my equilibrium before I scurried into the building to change.
I was barely aware of the people around me as I dressed, my brain stuck on a loop replaying that moment of connection over and over again. Finally, I was snapped back to attention when someone passed me a racquet – we were starting badminton today. I'd apparently already forgotten yesterday's introductory lecture. My classmates were watching me nervously and I couldn't blame them; the racquet was lightweight but nevertheless felt like it might easily become a weapon in my hands. Beau already had a wide area around him where no one apparently dared to stand. He gave me a sheepish grin when he spotted me looking at him. When Coach Clapp told us to pair up, he came right up to me.
"Want to spare everyone the horror of being our partners?" he suggested. "You never know, could be fun."
"Could be a complete train wreck, you mean," I said, rolling my eyes at him. "We'll land ourselves in the hospital."
Coach Clapp agreed, apparently. "Oh no, Swans, you know the rules. Split yourselves up before I do it for you."
Beau looked about to argue, but McKayla stepped in. "I'll be your partner, Bella. Beau, Logan hasn't got anybody yet."
Logan didn't exactly look happy with that idea, but I guess he thought Beau was at least a better option than me because he waved him over to his court.
I turned to McKayla, apologetic look already in place. "Thanks, Kay. I know this probably isn't your idea of a perfect pairing."
"No worries, I know how to steer clear by now." She was grinning like it was some sort of inside joke, rather than a well-known fact to anyone in our class or indeed the rest of the school.
It was just as disastrous as I'd predicted, even with Beau and I on separate teams. At one point I managed to make a swing that both clipped McKayla in the shoulder and whacked myself in the head. After that I stayed right out of the way and only went for shots that came towards me in the back corner, which wasn't very many. I glanced over at Beau two courts down in much the same position and couldn't help smiling just a little bit. McKayla made an impressive show despite basically playing by herself, claiming victory in three out of four matches. I gave her a high five at the end of class.
"Nice playing," I commented.
"Thanks," she preened, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "I'll be honest, I've played with your brother enough times that it's second nature by now. I'm sure if I had a really good partner I'd be totally lost." She laughed as she led the way into the locker room. I spotted Logan and Beau going into the boys' changing room deep in conversation. I hoped Beau wasn't talking to him about the other day; I'd asked him not to, but I wouldn't put it past him to go into overprotective big brother mode without me there to keep him in check.
I got changed in a hurry, the perils of gym already drifting from my memory as anticipation started to build up. Would Edward want to drive me home? It hardly made sense, given that he would have to hang around to pick up Edythe, but then again, if I thought about it that say then showing up to give me a ride this morning didn't make sense either. Would he be waiting for me outside class like earlier, or should I meet him at his car? And what if the older Cullens were at their car when I got there? I remembered Rosalie's glare; I wasn't sure I could handle that level of scrutiny up close.
As I walked out of the Gym building, I was trying to decide whether I should hunt down Beau and convince him to let me take the truck by myself, or just walk home on my own, either way bypassing the issue entirely. But it was all moot – there was Edward, leaning on the wall again, totally relaxed. I felt that surge of rightness again, as if a hollow loneliness I hadn't noticed had been chased away by the return of his disarming presence. All my worries fled, at least for the moment.
"Hi," I breathed, my smile bursting out on instinct.
"Hello again," he said, mirroring my smile with far more devastating, dazzling effect. "Good class?"
"Pretty good," I replied breezily, trying to seem unaffected.
His eyes were knowing. "Oh yes? How's your head?"
I turned crimson and huffed indignantly. "I cannot believe you. I told you not to watch."
I started marching towards the parking lot, intent on getting into the truck and begging Edythe's forgiveness later – she'd understand that her brother was being a pig – but he kept pace with me without an issue.
"I'm sorry," he said, not sounding it at all.
"You're a terrible liar."
That made him laugh, which only made me fume more.
As we got to our cars, it looked like my vehicle choice might be made for me. The path to the truck was open, but the Volvo was surrounded by students, most of them freshman and sophomore boys, all of them practically drooling. Looking closer, I realised they were actually clustered around Rosalie's shiny red car. Nevertheless, I started angling toward the truck. A tug on my sleeve made me look down; Edward had hold of my jacket, and when I looked back at his face, he was frowning.
"Alright lemmings!" came the loud call of my brother's voice from behind me before Edward could say anything. "Show's over! Clear out if you know what's good for you."
I turned back over my shoulder to see Beau approaching, the picture of calm and casual attitude, one arm slung around Edythe's shoulder as they walked. She had on her typical mild expression, a pleasant but largely disinterested air that somehow held just a hint of menace. I wasn't sure if it was the tension around her eyes or something in the set of her mouth, like she was almost but not quite baring her teeth. Whatever it was, the look made me shudder ever so slightly. I glanced at Edward and saw he was wearing a similar expression.
The members of the crowd obviously felt the impact of their looks too, as most of them scattered immediately on spotting the two Cullens. One brave soul, who I knew was a junior like us but whose name I couldn't summon up at that moment, instead crossed his arms and stepped forward.
"Oh, come on, Swan," he griped. "We're just looking."
"Uh huh." Beau sounded unconvinced. "I'm sure none of you left any sticky fingerprints on the paintwork. But if you want to explain it to Rosalie, be my guest. I'm not hanging around to step in for you when she goes postal on your ass."
That did it; the boy's eyes went wide and frightened, and he scurried off after his fellows.
"Well that was just plain mean," Edythe commented.
Beau shrugged. "Not as bad as what Rosalie would have done to him. Speaking of avoiding your delightful sister, do we want to be here when the others turn up or are we making our escape?"
"Escape, I think," Edward put in. "There's a time and place for that confrontation and this isn't it."
"Would it be a confrontation?" I wondered. Was Rosalie, a girl I'd never even spoken to, really that unhappy with me?
The response to my question came from Edythe, and it was deceptively blasé. "Everything is a confrontation when Rose is in a mood. Which is most of the time, if we're being candid. You can't avoid it forever, brother." She gave him a pointed look and I knew instinctually that she was saying more, just not out loud. "But you're right, this isn't the appropriate spot for a battlefield. Meet you back at Chez Swan?"
Edward nodded mutely and headed for the driver's side of the Volvo, now accessible without the throng of teenage car enthusiasts. Beau and Edythe crossed to the truck and clambered in. I dithered for a moment, then decided that, angry or not, I really didn't want to have to walk home. I hurried over and climbed into the front seat of the silver car. There was an awkward silence between us as Edward pulled out and got on the highway back towards my house. He was the one to finally break it.
"Are you very cross with me for watching you in Gym? I assure you, I was only curious. I'm not trying to make fun of you."
I fidgeted uncomfortably. "It's not like it's a secret that I'm bad at sports. And you know my brother already, we're two peas in a pod when it comes to coordination. I guess..." I could feel myself blushing, knowing this was an incredibly self-centred admission. "Does it make sense when I say that I want you to see the best of me, and only the best? I mean, I'm sure you've seen me trip a hundred times but... it just feels different, to know you're watching something like that on purpose. It makes me feel like I'm some kind of... sideshow act."
He pulled over sharply to the curb; with a quick glance out of the window, I saw we were already home.
Edward looked aghast. "Do you think that's how I see you? As a cheap, fleeting entertainment?"
I shrugged, feeling so weak and helpless as I twisted my fingers together in my lap. I didn't want to admit that he had hit upon exactly my fear – that I interested him for now, but that it wasn't destined to last. Tears began beading at the corner of my eyes and I willed them away. The last thing I needed to do was cry in front of him.
"You couldn't be more wrong," he murmured softly, fervently, and when I let myself look into his eyes again, they were burning with some deep emotion I couldn't quite identify. The moment of connection stretched long, the electricity crackling in the air around us once again. I kept expecting it to get weaker with time, or to get used to it and perhaps no longer notice it. If anything, it was getting stronger, especially when he did things like this.
"Do I take it," Edward said, breaking the stillness but not our eye contact, "that you do actually believe what you said to McKayla earlier? You think you care more for me than I do for you?"
I nodded numbly, my throat suddenly too dry to speak.
"What makes you think that?" He seemed genuinely perplexed.
I swallowed hard and prayed it was enough to coat my throat and give me some voice. It half worked; when I spoke, it was a hushed whisper but not rough or hoarse.
"I can't be completely certain... I mean, I don't know what you're thinking, and I can never be sure I'm reading your face right, but... it feels like sometimes..." I trailed off, then re-evaluated, made a small face and carried on. "A lot of the time, actually, we'll be talking and you're saying something completely normal – or mostly normal – but it feels like the whole time you're actually trying to say goodbye."
"So perceptive," he whispered, mostly to himself. He stared into my face for a moment as if the secrets of the universe were hidden in my features. I looked away, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.
"But you know that proves I'm right, don't you?" he went on more insistently. "If saying goodbye is what's right for you, if I have to choose between hurting you and leaving..." He winced, and I wasn't sure which thought pained him more. "Then I'll go, no matter how much I don't want to. Keeping you safe is more important."
I frowned. "You don't think I could do that?"
His face was grim. "It's not a choice you would ever have to make."
"And if I don't care about being safe? If I'd rather be with you, no matter what?"
This was a big conversation we were getting into, and I knew it. Hardly suitable for the front seat of his car parked outside my house with my brother likely to show up any minute. As if the thought had summoned him, the truck roared around the corner at exactly that moment.
"You should go in," Edward said, dodging my question deftly. "Your brother wants to talk to you."
I let him off the hook, just this once. The electricity hadn't lessened in the air, and I felt like a break might be in everyone's best interest. But before I went, I fixed him with a hard stare.
"Will you be eavesdropping again?"
That at least made him smile, very slightly. "Not to worry. Beau has already requested privacy for a few hours this evening. Besides, as loathe as I am to subject myself to it, I really must face the music at home. I may not be back before you go to sleep."
I was abruptly worried for him, even as my heart ached at the idea that I wouldn't see him until tomorrow. "You're not actually going to fight with your family over me, are you? Because I'm really not worth it."
He shook his head. "You don't see yourself clearly at all. You are worth a lot more than you think, certainly a lot more than the inconvenience of a minor squabble with my siblings."
Edward reached out his hand, less tentative than he had been before, and cradled the side of my face. His eyes held mine, intense and glorious and far too overwhelming. Only when my head began to feel light did I realised that I had stopped breathing. I sucked in a shaky lungful of air and the moment broke. His eyes slid closed, releasing me from the gravity of his gaze. The world rushed back into focus and I heard the distinct creaky slam of the doors on the truck.
"See you tomorrow then," I said, proud of myself when my voice didn't wobble.
"Tomorrow," he confirmed. He was staring out at the dark clouds which were gradually descending, contemplative and serious.
"Do I get to ask questions again?"
That made him smirk. "Absolutely not. Don't think I didn't notice all the ones you slipped in today. Besides, I'm not nearly finished."
"What else is there?" I asked, genuinely exasperated; it felt like we'd gone over every insignificant detail of my life today.
His eyes were warm now as he chuckled, and I silently prayed for more of those looks in our future. "You'll find out tomorrow. Go on, Beau's waiting."
With a sigh, I opened the door, the cold air clearing my head somewhat, and climbed out. Edythe was just approaching, having apparently already said her goodbyes to Beau, who was on the porch groping for the key under the eave. She smiled and grabbed my hand briefly, squeezing reassuringly as she took my place in the front passenger seat of the Volvo. Then the car was speeding away.
Taking a deep, calming breath, I turned to follow my brother up the driveway. He'd got the door open and was shrugging out of his jacket; I hurried inside so we could shut out the cold.
"Alright," Beau said, clapping his hands together with a worrying determination. "Let's do this. Ways that everyone and their cousin can tell that Edward Cullen is head over heels for my sister, number one."
I blanched – did he actually have a list? "Can I at least dump my stuff and get started on dinner first?"
He sighed in deep exasperation, then hooked my bag off my shoulder, dropped it on the floor beside his own and set about extracting me from my jacket, talking all the while.
"Number one, he willingly has conversations with you, believe me, that never happens. Number two, eye contact that is not hostile and-or derogatory, also a big step for him."
My jacket safely hung up – and my spluttered protests soundly ignored – he began propelling me towards the kitchen. I shook him off roughly and whirled around arms crossed.
"Would you stop that! Manhandling me like that is not cool, Beau."
He had the decency to look chagrined. I used the interruption to put a stop to his moronic list.
"Look, I'm not questioning whether he likes me. I'm not that stupid, no matter what the two of you may have implied several times in the last week."
Beau was perplexed. "Then what's the problem? Why the pity party this morning?"
I repeated loosely what I'd said to Edward in the car and his response as I started gathering the ingredients for chilli. My brother sat at the table, leaning his chin on his hand and listening with growing concern and compassion in his eyes.
"So there you have it," I finished weakly. "Sure, he likes me now, but if he's already thinking about leaving... I mean, I can't possibly keep him. I'm just me and he's him. There's no comparison."
Beau was thoughtful for a moment, obviously mulling over what I had said and trying to choose the best response. The only sound in the kitchen was the rhythmic thunk of my knife against the chopping block as I diced onions.
"I won't say I don't understand where you're coming from," he began slowly; I got the sense he was choosing his words very carefully. "Because Edythe is beyond phenomenal and I have never had any idea why she picked somebody like me out of everybody. And yeah, I worry that one day she won't be interested in me anymore and she'll just disappear into the aether. But that's my own neurosis, it's not based on anything she's ever said or done."
The oil and onions I had added to a pot on the stove sizzled slightly as I slowly stirred in a packet of minced beef. "So it's me then? I'm just not worth hanging around for?"
"No, no, no," Beau rushed out. "That's not what I mean, and I don't think it's what Edward's saying either."
I turned to him with an eyebrow arched in a 'really?' expression that he was able to read easily.
"I won't claim to know Edward well," he said in an almost warning tone. "But from what I've gathered between observations and conversations with Edythe, especially in the last few weeks, the guy can be a bit… well, not to put too fine a point on it, a bit of a drama queen. He overreacts to just about everything, or at least everything that really matters to him, which very much includes you." He gave me a look. "The problem is that his reactions are almost always negative. Not to mention he's got a twisted picture of himself and insecurities coming out of his ears." He smirked. "No wonder you two like each other so much, you have matching self-conscious streaks."
I gave him a dour look. "Thank you so much, my dear, complimentary brother."
"Hey, I just tell it like it is. My point being, all this stuff about leaving is really just his personal crap coming to the surface with a focus, an action he can take to 'fix it'." He made big air quotes with his fingers. "You've given him a focal point that he hasn't ever had before, by all accounts. He doesn't know what he's doing any more than you do, but he's got this feeling from somewhere that it's not okay, that he shouldn't have it, that there's a fundamental problem with the two of you being together. It's not you, Bells, it's all on him."
The pot behind me was making some concerning noises; I turned and stirred furiously, putting some of my frustration into the movement of the spoon as I simultaneously escaped the confusing and somewhat overwhelming train of thought my brother was trying to lead my on.
"That still doesn't make any sense," I huffed angrily.
"Look," Beau said, coming around to be in at least my peripheral vision. "I won't lie, I'm invested in the two of you having a relationship. Not just because it would be super cool – I mean, can you even imagine what the odds are of two siblings both falling in love with vampires, who also happen to be siblings? But I also want you to be happy, and I know he makes you happy, when he's not being infuriating, which I get is often."
I hummed in agreement, not choosing to examine the way my heart spluttered when he said the 'L' word.
"At the same time," he went on. "I'm your brother, and I don't want you getting jerked around by some idiot who's making you feel like you're not worth his time. I mean, you should be the most important thing in the world to him, which I think you are, but you should know it, without a doubt. Maybe it's time Edward gets a good big brotherly talking to. You know, instructions on how to treat my sister right."
Irritation flared, sudden and unexpected, at the idea that he felt he had to insert himself into my life like that.
"I can take care of myself, Beau," I snapped, whirling away towards the next bit of ingredient prep.
"Seriously, let me talk to him, maybe I can-"
"Just butt out, okay!" I shouted, surprising myself with the force of it. "I don't need you to fix everything for me!"
Beau looked like I'd slapped him before his face smoothed. He was aiming for emotionally detached and unaffected, but I knew my brother – he only got like this when something had hurt him badly.
It had never been me before.
Guilt twisted my insides, but before I could work out what to say to make it better he was hurrying out of the room. I felt tears begin to bead up and hastily swiped them away, focusing all my attention on dinner. It didn't completely work; that instant of hurt on my brother's face kept drifted across my subconscious. And yet for the life of me I couldn't think of what I could do or say to fix it. I was only dimly aware of Charlie getting home, waving absentmindedly when he stuck his head into the kitchen to say hi.
I hadn't fully composed myself when I called the boys in to dinner and no-one was talking as we all began to eat.
Charlie looked back and forth between us, obviously sensing the still bubbling tension. "Is everything okay with you two?"
"Fine," I said, a little too quickly. I focused on my food, giving much more attention than necessary to getting a perfectly proportioned fork full of chilli and rice.
"Bella has a date on Saturday."
There was a loud clatter as both mine and Charlie's forks landed on our plates. I was shocked into inaction for half a second, then my eyes narrowed on my brother and I felt my expression turn murderous. My guilt had well and truly vanished.
"Beaufort," I said in a warning tone.
"A date?" Charlie asked, sounding perplexed. "But I thought you two weren't going to the dance."
"We're not," I agreed, trying to signal to Beau that he was on thin ice and he should take the chance to back-track now. Never had I so wished for his stupid twin telepathy theory to be true.
Beau wasn't getting the message. "No, it's not the dance. He's taking her to Seattle."
Forget trying to communicate with Beau; now I was willing the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Angry tears started brewing at the corners of my eyes. I had never felt more betrayed in my life.
Charlie turned to me, eyebrows raised. "Bella, is this true?"
I wanted so badly to deny it. I also wanted to rant and rage and scream at my brother. I knew I had upset him, but I didn't think that he would respond by doing something like this. There was a very good reason why I hadn't told Charlie about Edward yet; still, I hadn't planned on keeping him a secret forever. Beau had just steamrollered over any ideas I might have had about gently easing my father into the idea of me having a boy in my life, romantically. Right now though, it was useless to lie. I was no good at it, and Charlie knew me too well - he would see right through it.
"Yes," I said through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at Beau again before turning as calm a look as I could manage on Charlie. "Look, Dad, it's really new, okay? We're still getting to know each other and I didn't want to tell you about it until I was sure there was something to tell you, you know?"
Charlie sighed deeply. "I understand that Bella, but… well, I know I'm not your mother, and I know you may not think that you can talk to me about this kind of thing, but I want you to. I want you to feel at home here, like you can come to me with anything. Instead you're keeping secrets and essentially going behind my back. I'm very disappointed in you, young lady. Honestly, I've half a mind not to let you go out on Saturday at all."
"I'm sorry, Dad." I hung my head, flooded with shame. Whatever else you could say about Charlie's parenting style, he had the severe, chastising dad voice down pat. He knew exactly how to make you feel awful about what you'd done, just with his tone and the look on his face.
"Don't you sit there smirking, Beau," he carried on, and when I glanced up I saw that there was indeed a self-satisfied expression quickly melting off of my brother's face.
"What did I do?" he said indignantly.
"Don't even try it," Charlie warned. "You knew about this, which means most likely Bella told you about it, which also means you had to know how she felt about telling me. As much as I wish she would have told me herself, that was her choice and it was not fair of you to take it from her like that. That's not what being a good brother looks like. Now apologise."
Beau was now downright affronted. "You can't be serious."
Charlie just raised an eyebrow and waited. I was still quietly seething but beginning to feel slightly triumphant.
Beau huffed in irritation and crossed his arms. For a minute I thought he might actually refuse to say anything, but then he muttered a disgruntled, "Sorry," just barely loud enough to be heard.
"You can do better than that," Charlie insisted, a prompt and a warning all wrapped up in one.
I fidgeted uncomfortably; it felt like we were five years old again, getting told to apologise to each other for squabbling over a toy. I wanted to admit to my angry words, to claim responsibility for the whole thing, but that would open up an entirely new can of worms that really did not need to be brought to Charlie's attention.
Beau looked like he was feeling just as awkward as me. Then he raised his chin and held my gaze, a determined look on his face.
"Bella, I'm sorry for telling Dad about Edward before you were ready."
I nodded, muttered, "Thanks," and both of us turned our focus to our plates.
Charlie chuckled. "See, was that so hard?". Then, after a short pause, he said, "So, Edward, huh?"
"Dad!" I whined. Did we have to talk about this right now?
"Alright, alright, I get it." He held up his hands in surrender. "Do I know him, at least?"
"I think so," I hedged, not entirely sure if he did. "He's actually Edythe's brother."
"You don't say!" Charlie looked pleasantly surprised for a second, then frowned. "Not the blond one, is it? I'm sure he's a nice boy but he seems too old for you."
"No, Edward's a junior like us."
"He's Edythe's bio-brother," Beau chimed in. "The one that's got the same hair colour as her. And Jasper is with Alice, remember?"
"Sure, sure," Charlie said, clearly not remembering. "Well, that's alright then."
And that seemed to be that, from Charlie's perspective at least. I distracted him by asking him about work for the rest of dinner. When we were done, Beau set about doing the dishes without having to be asked; Charlie gratefully retired to the living room, while I excused myself to do some homework. Between the evenings spent with Edward and the Port Angeles trip, I did actually have a bit of a backlog building, and it served as an effective diversion for a while. Then I reached the point where all I had left was studying for the Trig test that was coming up after Spring Break and my carefully constructed walls all fell apart. Math in all its forms had never been my friend, and it didn't hold my attention well enough to keep me from thinking about the situation with Beau. I didn't feel like anything had really been settled. His apology had been forced and sounded rehearsed; I could tell he wasn't really sorry for what he did. Then there was the matter that had started it all, his insistence on interfering in my relationship – if it could be called that yet – with Edward. I worried that he was going to somehow corner him at school and give him a talking to and thereby potentially reveal something I didn't want revealed to yet another person. I realised suddenly what all this secret keeping about the Cullens had done, something I hadn't recognised or even thought possible until this moment – I had lost my trust in my brother. I had always thought we were on the same side, two against the world despite the miles between us. But now I genuinely didn't know what he would do next, and it scared me.
Adding to my distraction, my eyes kept drifting to the window I had left open, hoping that Edward would appear despite his certainty that he wouldn't make it here tonight. Part of me wanted to go and see if Edythe was here so she could call him over, or perhaps give me his number. But that felt vaguely stalkerish. Besides, I really wasn't ready to see Beau again yet, and I kind of hoped that Edythe was with her brother to give him some back-up against whatever adversity he was facing from their other siblings. So I spent my evening alone, eventually falling into a restless sleep far too late into the night.
The next morning was quiet. Not the comfortable quiet that usually hung over our mornings, but a tense, charged silence that felt like something was going to explode. Everyone seemed on some level to understand what I had figured out last night – the conflict wasn't over. Charlie left for work at the last possible moment, eyeing Beau and I nervously, as if he didn't want to leave us alone. I wished him a good day as pleasantly as I could, avoiding any eye contact with my brother as I went to get my stuff together.
Edythe and Edward showed up almost as soon as Charlie was gone. There was no chit-chat today; Beau said a cursory good morning to Edward, then took Edythe's hand and towed her toward the truck while I made a beeline for the Volvo. I knew Edward didn't need to be a mind reader to know that there was something going on between us, but I wondered what he might be seeing in Beau's head. Very kindly, he waited until we were both in the car and on our way before asking about it.
"Are you alright? You seem... upset."
I shrugged, watching the trees pass outside the window. "Beau and I are in a bit of a fight. It's nothing."
"Clearly not," Edward disagreed. "I was under the impression that you two got on very well, that it took something big to set you at odds. I understand if you think it's none of my business but…"
I made the mistake of turning to look at him when his pause stretched too long. He was looking back at me with the full force of his eyes, the look that was like a truth serum to me.
"He told Charlie about us," I admitted reluctantly, gesturing vaguely between the two of us. "So now my dad knows we're going out on Saturday, when I wasn't ready to tell him."
"Oh, I see." Despite his words, Edward's brow was furrowed in confusion.
I sighed. "I know it doesn't make sense. It's a moot point now though. He approves, by the way. Once he worked out which brother you were."
That made him chuckle. "That's nice to hear. Do you know why Beau told him?"
"It was my own fault. We were arguing about something else and I yelled at him."
Please don't ask what the argument was about.
"Can I do anything?" he asked, concern in his eyes that made my heart melt in the most cliché way possible.
"Distract me?" I requested.
He happily delivered, launching back into his interrogation as if we hadn't had a more than twelve-hour interruption. And thankfully not touching on the fight any further.
We drove the rest of the way to school, parked by Rosalie's flashy car again and walked to English. The whole time, Edward was asking me questions like a rapid-fire psychoanalysis session. It continued during the walk to lunch and the entire time I was eating – I insisted on buying my own food today – virtually without pause. I worried that I was starting to bore him, but he seemed completely enthralled by everything I had to say. Every now and then, something he asked me would make me blush, causing him to divert into a whole new line of questioning to figure out what had caused it. I kept thinking he had to run out of things to ask at some point, but the flow only stopped when we got to Biology.
The movie was still going, and we spent another hour in the dark, electricity humming around us so strongly that I was surprised it didn't start to attract people's attention. Today, however, he was clearly feeling bolder; when the lights went out, he reached over and laid his hand over mine where it was resting flat on the desk. His fingers slipped into the gaps between mine and, after a minute of hesitation, curled gently against the top of my palm. I stayed still for a moment myself, then, emboldened by the soft squeeze of his thumb against the base of my little finger, I folded my fingers under too, gripping his fingertips with what I hoped was enough pressure to let him know that he could move if it was overwhelming him, but that I didn't really want him to.
He didn't release his grip until just a fraction of a second before the lights came back on. My hand tingled all the way to Gym, where he once again stroked softly down the side of my face, all the way from hairline to chin and just barely brushing my neck with the flat of his fingernails.
As I watched McKayla single-handedly defeat another three pairs at badminton, I was finally without distractions for long enough to start thinking about Beau again. I still wasn't any closer to figuring out how to reconcile from our argument, short of just apologising and hoping that was enough. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was about his words that had upset me so much, so explaining was out of the question – I didn't have an explanation. No, 'sorry' would have to do. It would need to be the most sincere and genuine apology I had ever made, and even then it might not be enough. But I would try.
Thus resolved, I was even more eager than usual for Gym to be over so I could talk to my brother. I hurried through changing at the end of class, hoping to catch him before we got to Edythe and Edward – complete privacy was too much to ask for, but I would rather avoid that particular audience.
Beau, however, apparently had plans of his own, because he was waiting outside the girls' locker room when I came out.
"Can we talk?" he asked nervously, as if he were worried I was going to start yelling again. But I just nodded and followed him down a side corridor. Not the one Logan had pulled me down, thankfully; this seemed to lead to the Coach's office.
There was a moment of awkward silence when we stopped walking. I hitched my bag more firmly onto my shoulder and Beau scuffed the ground with his toe, not looking at me. Then we both spoke, that creepy unplanned in-sync thing again.
"I'm sorry."
Beau looked startled, then frowned; I could feel a matching expression on my face.
"What are you apologising for?" I asked, realising too late that it sounded almost like an accusation. Not the right attitude, Bella.
He looked at me like I was crazy. "For ratting you out to Charlie, of course. I talked to Edythe this morning and she helped me see how it was a dumb thing to do, for lots of reasons. I'm really sorry, Bell." Now he was the picture of sadness and regret, much more than I felt the situation warranted.
I shook my head. "I started it. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that, it wasn't fair."
"Yeah, but..." he started, but cut himself off with a laugh. "Look at us. Now we're arguing about who started our argument. This is ridiculous."
I smiled. "Can we just agree that it's over? I hate fighting with you."
"Of course it's over." He pulled me into a warm, secure hug. "I love you, Bella."
"Love you too," I replied, then stepped back. "Come on, let's go home."
It was incredible the difference that one short conversation had made to my mood. I was practically skipping as Beau and I walked out of the Gym building. Edythe and Edward were already waiting for us, and Beau was clearly feeling the same thrill that I was because his greeting kiss was a new level of exuberant. Edward made a face and ostentatiously turned his back on our siblings – not that either of them noticed. It was such a normal response, so human, that I couldn't help smiling. He smiled back, then began leading the way to his car.
The drive home was yet more questions, but they were different now. Rather than peppering me with fast, frivolous things, he wanted to know more details about home. He had me describing each little thing, especially ones he wasn't familiar with, and I found myself for the first time having to put into words what it was about Phoenix that I loved so much. Objectively, the barren landscape and sparse vegetation probably didn't sound very appealing. I found myself gesturing expansively, trying to properly convey the beauty of the dusty valleys between rough mountain peaks, spread out under the wide open blue sky. Every time I worried that I was boring him or taking too much of the conversation, Edward asked another follow-up question with eagerness and interest. His fascination, as nonsensical as it seemed, was a consistent reassurance. We sat there for a long time as I talked and he listened with rapt attention.
Eventually, though, he sighed, abruptly sad, and said, "You should probably go in soon. Charlie won't be too much longer."
I looked out of the windscreen, suddenly realising that we must have been sat in the car for hours; the sky was growing dark as the dull light faded behind the trees. Drops of rain lingering on the windshield gave evidence of a recent rain shower that I had apparently been too focused to notice.
"It's getting late," I commented somewhat unnecessarily. "I wonder where Beau and Edythe have got to."
Edward shrugged, looking thoughtful. "I think they planned to hang out elsewhere for a while. Your brother wanted to pay me back for the privacy I gave you two last night."
"But we could have at least gone inside," I pointed out. "I blame you, you've made me talk too much and I don't have any thinking power left."
He chuckled. I half expected the questions to start again, but they didn't. We both sat quiet, watching the sky darkening.
"Twilight," Edward mused. "It's a safe time of day for us, in many ways. But a sad one too. The departure of the sun and the return of night."
"I like the night," I said, not mentioning that I was enjoying it a lot more recently. "Without darkness, we'd never see the stars."
He hummed in agreement, and the quiet descended again as the last faint glow faded.
There was a loud honk from behind us that made me jump. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, I saw the truck pulling up behind us, Beau and Edythe both grinning like lunatics from the cab; they were just barely visible in the glow of the headlights reflecting off the back of the Volvo. In the next moment, their faces were lit by another set of lights, in time for me to see their smiles drop as the sound of another engine caught my ear from the other direction. I turned and watched a dark sedan come around the corner and park against the curb a few hundred yards away. Jules Black got out of the driver's seat, waved cheerfully, and started getting a wheelchair out of the trunk. A severe looking woman with dark skin and long black hair waited in the passenger seat, her gaze shifting between our two vehicles, deeply disapproving. She would have been completely silhouetted if only her car's lights were on, but the truck's lights diffused around our car instead cast strange shadows that made her look even more intimidating. Though I wouldn't have been able to recall her face on my own, I instantly recognised Bonnie Black.
"Not good," Edward muttered sourly.
"What's wrong?" I asked stupidly.
"Well, your friend Julia may not believe the stories that she told you," he said, eyes locked on the woman. "But her mother certainly does."
I was immediately concerned. "Why is she here? Do you think she's going to say something to Charlie?"
"She's going to try. She made an attempt to intervene when Beau and Edythe started dating, which clearly came to nothing, so she knows it probably won't go anywhere, but she feels she has a responsibility to protect her friend's children." He sighed. "Waiting here isn't going to make it any better. You should go inside, Bella."
Clumsily, I gathered my bag and prepared to get out. Then at the last moment, I got a crazy, probably not very sensible idea. I wasn't sure what made me do it, perhaps some petty need to show Bonnie that there was nothing to worry about. Quickly, hoping but not very hopeful that he wouldn't have time to react, I leaned across the centre console. I was very much expecting to meet air and keep going, but he surprised me by holding perfectly still as I pecked him on the cheek. When I pulled back, he looked startled but not the angry I had been fearing.
"Thank you," I said softly, opening my door. Best not to push my luck. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Later," he corrected, a slightly dazed note in his voice that made me feel very pleased with myself.
"Later then," I agreed and finally climbed out.
Beau and Edythe were already out of the truck, and Jules had the chair assembled and was helping her mom into it.
"Distracted much?" my brother joked as he joined us. "Seriously, how long have you been sat in that car?"
I stuck my tongue out at him; his attempt to take the edge off this suddenly very tense moment was appreciated, although I could see he had a tightness around his eyes that the grin didn't completely mask.
"Don't worry about them," Edythe murmured, not diverted from the point. "Bonnie only wants to make sure you both are safe."
Beau held his smile, but he had an edge to his voice as he replied. "That's as may be, but I swear to God, if she tries to get Charlie to interfere again..."
"She won't," I cut in, not quite sure how I was so confident. "I mean, she had a fight with him over it last time, right? I doubt either of them wants a repeat performance. Besides, who cares? Charlie doesn't control our lives, and Bonnie definitely can't."
Beau tipped his head in a conceding gesture but was kept from saying more by the Blacks coming up close enough to hear us.
"Hey Jules," he said instead, his usual cheerful self. "Hi Bonnie, it's been a while."
"It certainly has," Bonnie agreed. Her voice was faintly gravelly and rang with a wisdom that belied her age. She wasn't any older than our dad, but there was just something about her that exuded ancient knowledge. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly on Edythe, cutting sideways to Edward too. "Hello there, Edythe."
"Good evening, Mrs Black," Edythe responded, perfectly relaxed and unfailingly polite. "I'm afraid I can't stay and chat, my brother is waiting. But it was lovely to see you, and you, Julia."
"Of course," Bonnie said evenly. "My regards to your parents."
"I'll be sure to pass that along," Edythe assured her, and I definitely wasn't imagining the undertone to both statements – they were warnings.
Edythe put a hand on Beau's shoulder and leaned up, clearly meaning to kiss his cheek, but he turned his head at the last moment and caught her lips with his instead. It was a quick, sweet kiss, yet Bonnie still looked mildly annoyed, her true feelings breaking her polite facade. Jules fidgeted uncomfortably. I caught her gaze and rolled my eyes theatrically, which made her smile a little bit.
"Are you guys coming in?" I asked as I stepped around my brother and his girlfriend, heading up the driveway. "Charlie isn't home yet but he shouldn't be too much longer."
As if on cue, yet another engine noise caught my ears and I looked back to see the cruiser coming around the bend. Edythe hurriedly detached herself from Beau and climbed into my abandoned seat in the Volvo. The car pulled away just as Charlie turned on his blinker to turn in to the driveway, speeding off into the distance. I half jogged the last few feet to the door and started fumbling with my keys, trying desperately to escape the feeling that I was unlocking the door to a battlefield.
This was going to be interesting.
