Chapter Three
Bella doesn't allow me to ask for her number.
She gives me her email address instead, writing it down on one of my bright pink Post-Its. I watch her as she writes, her left hand printing in tiny capital letters. I don't know why I find her handwriting so fucking fascinating, but I do. It's print, nothing loopy about it, and I think that it's just another thing about her that I find pleasantly surprising.
Her email address makes me suppress a chuckle, once she hands it over. It's one of those dorky, adorable ones that she insists she made when she was eleven-years-old so, really, I'm not allowed to laugh. I pretend I don't believe her, and she keeps trying to convince me until my smile takes over my entire face.
"You're mean," she finally concludes.
We don't talk much after that, and she returns to her table, leaving me with a stupid, goofy grin on my face. I don't know what I've just signed myself up for by deciding that I'll be just her friend, but I'm thinking that it's better than nothing, right?
It has to be.
Right?
I text Jasper, telling him that he had better be home tonight. I've got a lot of shit to talk about. I reckon I'm the only one who really puts his Psychology Major to the test. We help each other out, you see?
When my shift ends, I pack up my things and wait for Jessica to arrive. The moment I spot her, I get the feeling that she has something to say to me, but I don't stick around to find out. I'm usually quick with my exits anyway. She can be fucking scary when she's on one of those back-you-up-into-a-corner moods. I should know. She's done it before.
Sometime in our sophomore year, she trapped me in a corner and demanded to know if I was ever going to ask her out. In the end, I told her I had a girlfriend, which didn't deter her one little bit. No morals in that one.
From the library, I head to the football fields. The team doesn't practice in the actual stadium all that often. They practice on one of two practice fields, which are also used for the games of the football festival that our university holds the weekend just before Thanksgiving; when we all come out and freeze our asses off just to support our team. Well, I come only for Emmett. I couldn't give a shit about the rest of the team. Newton included.
The bleachers aren't empty when I arrive. They're littered with groups of girls who've come out, hopefully to get the attention of some of the players. I find it a little sad, but I'm inclined to reserve judgment. To each his - or her - own, right?
I look for an open spot, hoping that nobody will bother me, when I spot a familiar head of blonde hair. I almost squeal. Okay, not really... But, if I were the squealing kind; I probably would have. I maneuver my way through the many girls, and drop down next to none other than Rosalie Hale.
Her eyebrows shoot up when she recognises me, and then she laughs nervously.
"Don't you say anything," she warns, and I dramatically zip my lips closed and throw away the key. She rolls her eyes in response. "Oh, I'm in for it now, aren't I?"
I shake my head, and hum a little, still refusing to speak.
"He asked," she goes on to explain even though I haven't even say anything. I pretend that I'm not interested in whatever she's saying. "He just called me up, said he was headed to practice and asked if I wanted to come. I would have said no; I really would have, but Alice is being really fucking annoying lately. That whole thing with Crowley was just stupid - I tried to tell her - and now all she does is mope around. It's like she found out that Jasper cheated all over again."
She's rambling, and I find it so fucking funny.
"I hate you, you know?" she finally huffs.
My smile is so wide, I'm surprised my face hasn't split in two. "Hi, Rosie," I say.
"Fuck off."
"Ooh," I sing-song; "do you kiss Emmett McCarty with that mouth?"
"Among other things," she says, her eyes twinkling slightly. It's odd to see it on Rose, who's normally very stoic, reserved even. I decide that I like this side of her; this side that doesn't seem against showing me that she's embarrassed or possibly in love with a boy she vowed she wouldn't give the light of day.
I bump her with my shoulder. "So, let me get this straight... Emmett calls, asks you to come watch him play, and you just do?"
She presses her lips together before she nods.
"And you didn't even bring anything to occupy yourself with?" I ask. "These things are fucking boring, you know?"
"Oh, I know that now," she says drily.
"Never fear, Miss Hale," I say dramatically. "Edward Masen is here!"
She snorts - and it's still in a truly lady-like manner, it's so baffling. "And what exactly are you doing here?"
"Oh, I'm Emmett's ride," I reply easily. "And we've got house stuff to discuss before our meeting with the committee next week."
Rose shakes her head. "It's times like these when I'm so glad I remained in Res. I think I'd drive myself crazy in a Sorority."
"I didn't really much of a choice," I remind her, and she just nods in understanding. I'd probably still be in a Residence Hall if all the shit that is my life didn't happen. In the end, it's just cheaper for me to live in a Chapter House. And, given all the other growing expenses at home; I need to save all the money I can. "But I guess it's not that bad. It's kind of nice, this brotherhood or whatever you want to call it. We can rely on one another."
Rose turns her head to look at me, her eyes deep and knowing.
Before she can say anything, I speak up. "Thank you," I practically blurt out. "For, umm, when you came over that night. Thank you for all you did."
She places a comforting hand on my knee. "Any time you need anything, Edward; you just let me know, all right? Em and Jazz may be your brothers, but that doesn't mean you don't have me, and Alice." She blinks once. "And, I suppose, Bella as well."
I frown.
"She asks about you a lot," Rose tells me, her eyes drifting back towards the field where Coach Clapp has just blown his whistle to signal the start of another play. "I reckon it's only a matter of time before she, well, gives in."
"She already did."
Rose's eyes snap back towards me. "What?"
I nod. "Gave me her email address this afternoon. We're going to try to be friends."
She slaps my forearm. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I just did."
Another slap, harder this time. I even grimace. "As soon as you got here, you idiot!"
"Because it was too funny watching you squirm," I say, blinking slowly. "And I guess I'm still in a state of disbelief. I mean, I don't even know what happens now. I doubt that she'll ever want to hang out with just me, so I don't really think I've accomplished anything."
"I reckon you've accomplished a lot," she counters gently. "This way, you can actually get to know her, even if it is electronically. It's better than nothing. You have to believe that."
"I do. I really do. It's just, I don't know - it just doesn't feel like it's enough."
"It's probably all she can offer right now," she says, her eyes taking on an understanding quality, and it makes me think that she and Bella have discussed all of this at length. I take back whatever I said about Rose being a mentor to Bella. Clearly, it's a good fit. Though I'll never ever admit that. The blonde would get way too much satisfaction out of it.
We spend the rest of the practice talking about nonsensical things. We have an actual debate about which song is the best one from Ed Sheeran's X album. Rose claims it's Thinking Out Loud, but I'm sticking with Photograph. It's literally a non-contest. How can't she see that?
We talk about the once planet of Pluto, and we discuss the Smithsonian Institute, and how the Shuttle is no longer in use. She knows much more about it, of course, seeing as she's studying to be an aeronautical engineer. We even trade some of our most awful pickup lines.
Really, why can't the football practice just fucking be over already?
When Coach Clapp blows the final whistle and dismisses the team, Rose and I are having a Thumb War. It's a good thing too because she's kicking my ass. Having the bigger hand means nothing apparently. Her thumb is so nimble, and so evasive.
We look up when Emmett approaches, standing down on the grass in front of us. "Oi, Masen," he says, laughing loudly. "Hands off."
Rose and I exchange a knowing look, but I do release her hand and turn my attention to the pile of muscle who is still in his uniform. "You keep going on like that, and I'm going to leave you here," I threaten.
"That's fine," he counters immediately. "Rose will take me home."
"Like hell I will," Rose starts, getting to her feet and placing a hand on my shoulder. "Really, Emmett, please never make me sit through another one of these things again. I think I might have ended up eating my own hair if Edward hadn't turned up."
Emmett isn't exactly sure how to respond to that, so he doesn't.
I laugh. "Em, just go hit the showers, all right? We'll be out here when you're done, because you sure as hell aren't getting into the OB looking like that." My eyes widen slightly. "Jasper will kill us both."
Emmett hesitates, his eyes darting from me to Rose. "You aren't really leaving, are you?" he asks softly, and the air seems to leave Rose's body.
"Of course not," she says, sitting back down.
Emmett throws her the kind of grin that vibrates through her entire body, and I can't help my smile.
Rose makes a point of not looking at me. "Shut up," she says, as we watch Emmett hurry away.
"I didn't even say anything."
"Well, you're not saying anything really loudly."
And all I can really do is laugh.
.
From: Edward Masen (edwardamasen)
To: Isabella Swan (phoenixgirl44)
Subject: This Email Address
Dear Bella
You have to tell me more about this phoenixgirl44 email address you've got going on here. And Hotmail? Seriously?
You have to tell me. I'll die if you don't. This is not an exaggeration.
Edward A. Masen
Chapter House President
Sigma Phi Epsilon Fraternity
P.S. Now that we're friends and all the good stuff that comes with that, does it mean that I get to tell you that I think you are beautiful?
.
My work suffers as I wait for a reply from her. I don't allow myself to worry that it will always be like this; that I'm probably going to be spending the rest of my good-for-nothing life just waiting for a response from her. It's a sad thought, but I don't think I'll change what is happening right now.
I agonised over what to write to her in my first email. I didn't want to overwhelm her with me, so I tried for something light. Makenna once told me that I was intense and, at the time, I didn't think it was all that frightening to a teenager.
But Bella is a teenager. She said it herself. She's just starting out. She barely has her own life figured out. And me... Well, I have a lot of shit in my closet. Starting anything with her would be monumental. Jasper and Emmett know this. Hell, even Rose knows it too. I've been so focused on school and my family for so long that I doubt I'll be any good at this whole being friends thing. Particularly when the girl could possibly be the one.
Eventually, I force myself to close my Outlook App, and get down to my work. I have a Latin functional email to write. And, really, as useful as the language will probably be to my future career; it's deathly boring. And our professor, Embry Wolf, literally puts me to sleep. It's a problem, really, because there are like seven of us in his advanced class, and he can see you when you start nodding off.
Should have stuck with French.
Maybe Spanish. Or even Italian. My mom told me that a boy who can speak a foreign language is sexy. I'm not sure that she had Latin in mind though. Word origin is interesting and all, but I doubt I'll ever speak it.
I'm elbow deep in trying to conjugate the verb 'to win' when my phone chimes. I immediately know it's an email, and I hope it's from Bella. I sigh. Chances are, it's something from one of my courses. Probably a reminder about some assignment that's due next week or something.
I psyche myself down enough that I'm convinced I won't be that disappointed if the email isn't from Bella.
But it is.
My breath hitches. Okay. Okay. I'm fine.
Edward, you're fine. Will you calm the fuck down?
I open the email.
.
From: Isabella Swan
To: Edward Masen
Subject: Under Normal Circumstances...
Dear Edward
A girl has to maintain some form of mystery about her, you know? And you didn't even say 'please.' Where are your manners?
But then again, if you're threatening me with your mortality, I have no choice, do I? We don't want you dying or anything equally dramatic. Hmm, let's see... I was born and raised in Phoenix. I'm a girl; go figure. We lived on 44 Maple Lane. It was home. My favourite place on earth.
Naturally, it all came together rather nicely. Now stop with all the judgment. I can practically feel it through my screen.
What does the 'A' stand for?
Bella
I-Don't-Have-Some-Cool-Moniker-Like-You-Do
P.S. Absolutely not. Are you blind?
.
My laughter surprises me. It escapes before I can even finish reading the email. I can already tell that I'm definitely in for it with this one. I could come up with several monikers if she just allowed me to.
I strongly suspect that she doesn't see herself clearly, but I decide that now isn't the time to convince her of what I see; just that I do see it.
I hit reply, and change the subject line. I think I know what I want to say and, for once in my life, I'm not going to overthink it. I shouldn't. I'm sure Bella wouldn't want me to, and I really don't want to either.
So I just start to type.
.
From: Edward Masen
To: Isabella Swan
Subject: Life-Saver
Dear Bella
Thank you! (HERE are my manners.) You have, indeed, saved my family from heartache. We are forever indebted to you.
So I really am dealing with a Phoenix girl, huh? What's your favourite part about Arizona (despite the obvious, of course: HEAT)? I've never been. And I've never actually considered going. Forgive me when I say that it hasn't really seemed all that appealing to me until now.
Have you ever been to Seattle? That's where I'm from, by the way.
I promise there's no judgment from me. If you're nice to me, I might even reveal to you what my first email address was. I won't say that it's as bad as yours... though I'm convinced that you'll still get a real kick out of it.
It's 'A' for Anthony. It was my dad's grandfather's name. I have Italian blood in me, apparently.
Edward A. Masen
Chapter House President
Sigma Phi Epsilon Fraternity
P.S. Blind? That is a hard negative. Believe me when I say that I'm seeing very clearly for what feels like the first time in my life.
.
I don't have to wait that long to receive a second response from her, and then a third, fourth, and so on. I imagine her sitting somewhere, reading my words and smiling like I know I am right now. I imagine her turning over her responses in her head before typing her words. Her words. I'm talking to her, and it's amazing.
We trade emails back and forth as the night goes on. We don't talk about anything of extreme importance. In fact, I think it's the fact that our discussions are so light, so airy, that makes it all feel so easy; so fucking right.
It's the post script that we reserve for the extra stuff. I wouldn't go so far as to call it flirting, but it's definitely something more than friend-speak. Truly, I think she just loves the fact that I'm having a real conversation with her, and not her father's daughter.
She bids me goodnight just before midnight, while we're in the middle of discussing why I hate mushrooms as much as I do. She loves them, apparently, and she jokes about that being the number one reason why we'd never work out in the long run.
I don't know how to tell her that none of this is a joke to me without coming across as too much. We're supposed to be friends, right? So I sign off my last email with the sole intention of letting her know that mushrooms mean nothing.
.
From: Edward Masen
To: Isabella Swan
Subject: Fungi Say What?
Dear Bella
Goodnight, my dear Miss Swan... Sleep well and dream sweetly. I shall talk to you tomorrow.
Edward A. Masen
Chapter House President
Sigma Phi Epsilon Fraternity
P.S. You should know that, Bella, now that I've met you; even wild mushrooms couldn't keep me away.
.
"What has you smiling like that?"
I look through my lashes at Jasper, as he watches me in turn, over his bowl of cereal. "Smiling like what?"
"Like that?"
I ignore his question. "What are we doing for Hallowe'en?"
Jasper raises his eyebrows as he regards me curiously. It must be odd for him seeing me like this. I feel odd and, truthfully, I also feel a little guilty. Here I am, feeling all kinds of happy things about what transpired with Bella last night, while my family has to deal with Riley's diagnosis.
Before I can take myself down that winding road, I remember that my family would want me to have this. This respite; this goodness that allows me to forget that my entire world sometimes feels like I'm just teetering on the edge of something truly devastating.
"What do you mean what are we doing for Hallowe'en?" he asks, allowing me to deflect his question. "Aren't the Deltas throwing some big costume party?"
I already know that I probably won't go. Or maybe I will. Bella would probably feel more comfortable if she were unrecognisable behind a disguise. It's definitely a thought.
"It's weird that you're even thinking about it," he points out. "Do you have plans you'd like to share with the class?"
"I don't," I say, and it's the truth. I want to have plans. With Bella. But the chances of such a thing happening are truly minimal. I know that I need to accept it, but I just can't bring myself to do it.
I stand up and take my own cereal bowl to the kitchen sink. I'm quick to wash it and set it down on the drying rack next to the sink.
Jasper eventually stands up as well. "Is there something you need to talk about, Masen?" he asks, moving to stand by my side. "I mean, we never did have that chat you seemed desperate for last night. Is everything all right?"
I glance around, very aware that there are eyes and ears everywhere. "I never did ask," I say; "what exactly did Emmett say to Newton? The guy's been death glaring me since I got back."
Jasper presses his lips together, obviously trying not to laugh about something.
"What?" I press. "Seriously. What did he say?"
"Well," Jasper begins, washing his own bowl as I step to the side. "Emmett may or may not have insinuated that the only reason Jessica was even bothering with him was because she was trying to get into your bed."
"What!"
Jasper chuckles.
"Fuck, Jasper; this isn't funny," I exclaim. "The guy looks like he's plotting ways to kill me in my sleep."
"Make sure you keep your door locked."
I must look incredulous. "Are you fucking kidding me right now?"
Jasper just shrugs.
I sigh. "If he does end up killing me, tell my family that I love them."
"You are so fucking dramatic, do you know that?"
It's my turn to shrug. Newton must know by now that I'm not interested in Jessica. At all. I literally avoid her like the fucking plague. How daft must Newton be to think otherwise? All right. I know. Stupid question.
"What time do you finish up today?" he asks me.
"Four thirty. Why?"
He doesn't respond.
I reach into my back pocket and hand him my car keys. "Please don't have sex in my car."
"I would never," he says quickly. Fast enough that I'm inclined to believe him. I swear the guy loves my car more than he loves food. And Jasper Whitlock loves his food.
"Please don't leave my tank empty again," I warn.
He huffs. "It was one time. Jesus. Cut a guy some slack, won't you, Lamb Chop!" Then: "Let it go... Let it go..." he sings, channeling Elsa from Frozen.
I cover my ears, and beg him to cease the torture. He can't sing for shit.
When he does eventually stop, I relax. "You should know that I'm never going to let you forget," I tease as I saunter out of the kitchen and climb the stairs to my room. A quick glance at my watch tells me that I have just over half an hour to make it to my Biochemistry lecture. I quickly pack my bag, grab my phone, wallet and student card, and then head down to the Shuttle Stop.
While I'm waiting, I check my email. I apparently have a meeting with our Chapter House director during lunch. That's new. I also note that the new trailer for the Avengers movie has come out, and I make a mental note to watch it on YouTube when I have more free time.
There's an email from Bella. It was sent earlier this morning.
My heart flutters as I open up the message.
.
From: Isabella Swan
To: Edward Masen
Subject: Mushroom Dreaming
Dear Edward
Good morning! How did you sleep? Well, I hope.
Thanks to our topic of discussion last night, I dreamt of mushrooms. It was more of a tower of mushrooms, if I'm being honest, and I had to climb to the top for some very important reason that I'm unable to recall, but I do know that it involved you in some way. It was a matter of life and death... and there was a lot of fungi. It was serious stuff.
I hope you're having a great day so far.
Bella
Conqueror-Of-Mushroom-Towers
P.S. Wild mushrooms can possibly be a psychedelic, Edward. So... my bet's that you won't even know if you were coming or going.
.
I don't get the chance to reply because the Shuttle arrives, so the congregated group shuffle on and we try to squeeze as many people in as we can. It's stifling and hot, but we all have somewhere to be. All the full Shuttles are probably one of the reasons why I'm so looking forward to the freezing temperatures that are headed our way. When it's too cold; people generally don't tend to leave their warm rooms, which leaves the Shuttles just full enough.
I'm praying for rain. A fucking hailstorm, for all I care.
My first two lectures of the day fly past, and then, finally, I have time to reply to Bella. I don't spend too much time thinking about what to say. After the entire painful thought process that went into sending her that very first email; I want her to know the real me, behind all my well-thought-out words.
.
From: Edward Masen
To: Isabella Swan
Subject: My Heroine
Dear Bella
Good morning to you too! I slept. It was better than most nights, so I'm not going to complain.
Are you trying to make me cry with all this mushroom talk? Truly. I mean, if you're so keen for fungi and what not, you should definitely stop by the food market at the Biscuit Mill. I think you'll go a little mental when you spot the fungi stall. And perhaps the donut stall as well. There's also this stall that makes waffles to die for. Seriously; they even put bacon in the mixture. I mean, can you even imagine...?
If you don't end up going yourself, or with, uh, Angela; I'll take you, all right? Good. Deal.
Thank you for protecting me, even if it was in a towering dream. You're my heroine. Let me have your babies.
I hope you have an equally amazing day as well. I'd like to hear all about it
Edward A. Masen
Chapter House President
Sigma Phi Epsilon Fraternity
P.S. I'll definitely be coming, Bella. I can assure you.
.
I panic a little as I send it off. This perilous friendship status of ours gives me anxiety. I'm likely to say or do something wrong; maybe push too hard, and then she'll just pull back completely and it'll all be over before it really even begins. It scares the crap out of me, but I'd rather know than keep pretending.
Right?
If I keep thinking it, then I'll eventually believe it.
At some point during the day, I mention to her that I have a nephew, his name is Riley, and he absolutely adores Spider-Man. Like, it's an obsession. I think that we've watched the Tobey Maguire Trilogy something close to forty times. I'm the only one with enough patience to sit with him through them all. Andrew Garfield is his favourite though, even though I'm convinced he'll warm up to Tom Holland rather quickly.
The both of us geeked out proper when we heard that our favourite superhero was going to be in Captain America: Civil War. I probably even shed a tear. Okay, so I don't admit that to her, but it's still something important.
Bella surprises me by asking me when Riley's birthday is. I think, at that point, I should have known that she had something planned. If I ever tell Jasper and Emmett how much of a dumb fuck I am; they'll probably end up rolling on the floor.
I manage to forget the Riley/Spider-Man conversation even happened for a few days. She was quick to get us talking about other things anyway, but I'm forced to remember when Angela, Bella's roommate, turns up at the library during my late Thursday afternoon shift and approaches my counter. She has a long, rolled up something in her hands, and she's twisting it nervously.
"Hello, Angela," I say brightly, trying to ease the obvious tension in her body. "Anything I can help you with?"
That seems to jerk her into motion, and she thrusts the roll towards me, poking me in the chest.
I feel it in my left pertoralis major muscle, but I manage to keep the grimace off my face. "What's this?" I ask, ignoring her flurry of apologies for attempting to impale me. "A poster?"
"It's from Bella," she blurts out. Then: "For Riley."
I frown in confusion. "Did she say why?"
"Isn't it his birthday soon?"
I chuckle in disbelief. "It's in March."
"Well, it's a good thing that Bella thinks ahead." Then she laughs. "Way ahead."
I blink. "Do you know what it is?"
She shakes her head, before adjusting her glasses with the lower palms of her hands, shifting them at the sides. "All I know is that it arrived all cloak and dagger this morning, and she was pretty much bouncing in excitement. It must be something pretty cool."
I look at the roll in my hand before I look back up at her. "Uh... As lovely as it is to see you, Angela; do you mind my asking why Bella didn't give this to me herself?"
"I was wondering when you were going to ask," she huffs. "Took you longer than I originally thought, I'll give you that."
I shrug. "I'm slow."
"I doubt it."
I raise my eyebrows expectantly.
"I offered," she eventually says. "She's still struggling to come to terms with... everything. And, frankly, I think you scare her."
I frown.
"Not in a bad way," she's quick to add. "Though, you know, not in a good way either. It's complicated."
There's the understatement of the century. I smile at her. "Well, uh, thanks for the delivery," I say. "I'm sure, whatever it is, Riley's going to love it."
"You're welcome," she says brightly, before she turns and leaves. I watch her for a moment, suddenly insanely jealous that she'll be able to see Bella today, and I just have email conversations with her. It just doesn't seem fair.
With a heavy sigh, I remove the elastic band holding the roll in place, and then open it up to reveal a movie poster for Spider-Man: Homecoming. In the bottom right-hand corner is a short message, dedicated to Riley, signed by Tom Holland.
I wish I could say that I didn't squeal, because I did. Shit. I'm turning into a squealer. Riley is going to lose his fucking mind when he sees this.
Just then, I have a horrid thought, but I can't stop it when it floods through my mind: at least Riley will die happy.
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I'm not surprised by the taste of blood. Fuck, I deserve it. How dare I even think things like that? He's going to survive. He's going to win this battle like he did the last one. It's all going to work out. Our family isn't going to suffer another loss.
I have to be able to save someone.
The poster is staring up at me, and it works to rid me of my spiralling thoughts. Everything falls into perspective for a moment. Riley will love this. It'll make him smile. He'll be so happy, and that's really all that matters right now.
I have to believe it because, otherwise, I'll probably drive myself into the ground if I don't.
The rest of my shift goes on without incident, and then I'm headed home. The poster is tucked under my arm, and I'm just grateful that it's not raining right now. Of course, being from Seattle, I'm used to the rain. I'd even go so far as to say that I love it, but I'd probably cry mercury if anything were to happen to this poster before I can give it to Riley.
I doubt I'll even be able to explain to Bella just what this poster means to me. I don't think I can speak for Riley but, if I'm halfway to freaking out; I can only imagine what he's going to feel when I finally give it to him. I'll never be able to hold out until his birthday, so I'm aiming for Christmas. It's going to be a mission and a half to talk to him on the phone and not blurt it out at every opportunity.
Jasper and Emmett are in Jasper's bedroom when I get back to the house. I can't possibly walk past the open door without showing them the poster, let alone greeting them. Jasper, of course, understands how big of a deal this is, and shows exactly the right amount of enthusiasm, while Emmett looks on in amusement.
"Explain yourself," I say.
"I'm more of a DC guy."
Jasper chucks a pillow at him. "I call bullshit."
"It's Batman," Emmett exclaims. "Seriously. It's Batman. He's a fucking badass."
There are no arguments there, but that means nothing.
"So, you said that Bella organised this for Riley?" Jasper asks, looking thoughtful as he rolls the poster back up. "That's awfully... nice of her."
He sounds skeptical and, to be perfectly honest, so am I. What does this mean? Does she just do these kinds of things for everyone, or am I different? Is it really because of Riley? Does she possibly know?
No, she can't possibly know. But, then again, her father is the President of the United States of America. I doubt there's much she couldn't find out if she really went looking. I imagine that, if she did find out; then she had to know that Riley's chances of survival have dropped dramatically.
Maybe she's giving this to me now because she doesn't think that Riley will make it to his birthday.
"Masen?"
I snap to attention, to spy Emmett's eyes on me. He looks curious, even concerned, and I'm worried about what I might have done or said if it makes him look like that. His face is normally so relaxed, so open, but something is different in this moment. His worry is written all over his face.
"What?" I ask.
"Do you really think Riley won't live to see his next birthday?"
Shit, so I did say that out loud. "I don't know what to think," I eventually admit, allowing my weariness to seep into my tone. I really am fucking tired. This whole not sleeping thing is getting really old really fast. "He just went through his first round, you know, and I hate that he has another three to go." All of which I somehow need to help pay for.
Our Chapter House started a Riley fund the last time he got sick - the second semester of my freshman year - which was passed around at every opportunity. When he was declared to be in remission; we all celebrated like we'd all made it happen and, you know, I like to think that we did.
This time feels different though. This time... feels like it.
"It's okay that you don't know what to think," Jasper tells me; "but just don't think that."
I just nod numbly, taking the poster from him and then I head to my own room. It's not quite a mess, but it's definitely been cleaner. I set the poster down on my desk, make sure my phone is in my pocket, and then fling myself onto my bed. Today has been a long day, and I could really use a good sleep.
Even as I fish for my phone, I know it isn't going to happen. All this talk about Riley just depresses me. And terrifies me. I just know there's a phone call coming. It'll come, and then it'll be over.
I open my Email App, and pull up Bella's contact. I don't know what to say to her besides thank you.
So I type.
.
From: Edward Masen
To: Isabella Swan
Subject: Forever Grateful
Dear Bella
Angela is officially my new favourite person. You really hit the jackpot in terms of roommates, I reckon. You should have seen the guy I was stuck with when I first arrived. He looked like he was legitimately twelve-years-old, and not in a good way, might I add.
So hold onto Angela. She's a Keeper.
As for her delivery. I have no words. Just, thank you. Thank you! (My manners are out in full force today). I truly appreciate it, and I just know that Riley is going to go bat-shit-crazy when I give it to him. You're amazing for doing this. I don't even know what to say.
I'm forever grateful.
Edward A. Masen
Chapter House President
Sigma Phi Epsilon Fraternity
P.S. If it's your intention is to ensure that I don't fall in love with you; you're failing miserably.
.
And then I fall asleep.
I wake up to a reply in the middle of the night. I'm disorientated and the screen of my phone is bright against me bleary eyes. I'm amazed that I slept at all.
But, as soon as I open her reply; I'm convinced I'll probably never sleep again.
.
From: Isabella Swan
To: Edward Masen
Subject:
Edward
I can't do this. I thought I could... but I can't.
I'm sorry.
Bella
.
Yep.
Too far, Masen; too fucking far.