Come as You Are

by tiffanyanne3

"It's just a piece of plain notebook paper, college ruled, folded into a neat square, but it's so much more than that. You're right. I was oblivious to your existence. But then you sent me this letter." It's 1996 in Seattle, and Edward cares about blending in, not fitting in. Until Bella takes the time to really see him. BxE, all-human. Rated M for the usual reasons.

6. Chapter 6

March 8, 1996

Your house is five blocks east of mine. I do all the listening during that walk. I want to know everything. Your mom's a teacher. Your dad's a cop. (That worries me somewhat.) You like to eat Pixie Stix on your walk home from school. You love candy, but you don't drink soda. You're seventeen and a senior like me. You'll be eighteen in September, when you hope to start classes at the University of Washington. You don't want to stray too far. After living in Phoenix for a few years, you prefer the Pacific Northwest. Things are greener here, you say. More interesting. I like hearing you talk about yourself.

I like knowing you.

Our walk home is slow, meandering. I want to keep talking to you. I'm just about to ask you what your favorite movie is when you interrupt.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Everything. I mean, I know a few things. But I want to know more. I want you to tell me."

I shrug. "There's not much to tell."

"There's plenty. Do you want to go to college, for starts?"

I'm definitely going to college. "I want to be an engineer."

You laugh. "See what I mean? I never would've expected that you'd want to be an engineer."

"No?"

"Nope."

I keep expecting you to elaborate, but you don't. "Are you going to tell me why not?" I ask.

"Well, you hang out with these slacker guys, these stoners who come to class about two-thirds of the time and don't do much besides crack jokes when they actually do show up."

Yeah, that pretty accurately describes most of my friends.

"And while I knew you weren't the same, I didn't know you had such…lofty aspirations."

My laugh is loud and deep and makes a couple of birds bolt out from a bush nearby. "Lofty aspirations?"

"I have this Word of the Day calendar," you explain. "It's more like a thesaurus. Like, 'Instead of saying this, say this.'"

I chuckle and shake my head slightly. "Of course you do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

My face flames when I realize that I just voiced what should have been an internal thought. "You just have a way of saying things. I like it. It sets you apart."

When you come to a full stop in the middle of the sidewalk, I'm afraid I've said something wrong. "What if I don't want to be set apart?"

Words from your letter come rushing back to me. I feel invisible sometimes, partly due to my own design and partly because I'm so incredibly...unremarkable. Sometimes I forget how similar we are on the inside. You want to disappear into a crowd.

"It sets you apart for me," I explain. "From other people in my life."

"Am I in your life?"

Jesus, Bella. "I mean…I'd like it if you were."

I watch you gnaw on the inside of your lip before you answer. "I'd like that, too."

I flash you my winningest smile and start to walk again, but you don't budge from your spot on the sidewalk. "You okay?" I ask, worried that I've offended you somehow.

"This is me." You nod your head toward the big white house on the other side of a neatly mown lawn. There's a front porch with rocking chairs. There's a swing hanging from ropes on a big tree in the front yard. There are flowers in shades of pink and white in the flower boxes under every window. My eyes dart back to you and scan you from head to toe. Long, brown hair hanging in loose, slightly messy waves. Black Converse hi-tops. Black dress. This house is decidedly unlike anything I would've imagined for you. And there we go. Right back to where we started. Similitude. Because I'm pretty sure if you saw my house, you'd be having the same thoughts I am right now.

"Thanks for walking me home," you say, unlatching the short gate in the picket fence.

"My pleasure. Can—uh, can I pick you up before school tomorrow?" I'm not done talking to you. Seeing where you live just sparked a million more questions in my head.

You nod slowly. "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay. Well, see you in the morning?"

"See you." You turn and make your way across a stone path, up the front porch steps, but I'm rooted to my spot on the sidewalk. There are words haunting me from your letter.

"Hey, Bella?"

Hand on the doorknob, you turn back to look at me once more. "Yeah?"

"You're not unremarkable." Your brow furrows. You probably don't remember. I pull your letter from my back pocket and hold it up, grinning. "Not even close."