May 23, 1996
We spend Thursday evening at your house. I lean back on the couch in the living room, and you spread out over the cushions, resting your head on my lap. Because it's Thursday and it's your house and your television, I'm forced to watch the thing I swore I'd never cave to. But after about twenty minutes, I have to admit…Friends is kind of funny.
"I told you it was hilarious," you say, looking up at me as I laugh.
"I'll deny it if you ever tell anyone."
"I would never. You have a reputation to uphold." Your tone is mocking, but I know you wouldn't sell me out like that.
The show ends, and you sit up and crawl across my lap, situating yourself sideways. I kiss you quickly, just a peck, because both of your parents are home. If your dad walked in on us making out, I'd never be allowed back here again.
You blow out a deep breath and rest your head on my shoulder. "So…" You seem nervous, tentative, which is so unlike you.
I'm suddenly on high alert. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that."
"I have something to confess."
"Okayyy," I say, tensing and pulling my shoulder back so I can force you to look at me.
"I sort of…got a letter today. An acceptance one."
When we first met, you said you wanted to stay in the Pacific Northwest for college. You said you'd probably go to UW. But we both kept our options open and applied to several different schools. Neither one of us has really addressed the subject since we sent off applications. The fact that you're stumbling over this makes me incredibly anxious.
"From…?" I prompt.
"Berkeley."
The word hangs in the air. That's not a bad thing. Berkeley's one of the schools we both applied to. It has a great English program and a great engineering program. So far, though, I've only been accepted at UW. I plaster on a smile because, despite my worry that I won't get in, I really am proud of you.
"That's amazing, love." I run a hand through my hair and then kiss your forehead. "Congrats."
Your lips are pursed, and the look you give me isn't happy at all. "You just pulled your hair."
"Huh?"
"You did this." When you push a hand through my hair, it feels a million times better than when I do it myself. Your nails scratch lightly over my scalp, and I lean into it. "It's what you do when you're upset."
"It is?"
"You know it is, Edward. Don't pretend you're happy about this."
"Know what I'm not happy about?" My voice gets a little louder. "You assuming that I'm pretending anything. I am happy for you. This is a big achievement for you. Am I worried? Yeah, a little bit. I don't want to be separated for the next four years. But Bella…" I scrub a hand over my face and lower my voice again. "It hurts that you think I'd be anything but proud of you."
You climb off me and look down at your folded hands in your lap. Neither one of us speaks for a minute. "I don't want to spend four years apart either. If you don't get in—"
"Don't even say it."
"Say what?"
"That you won't go. Or that we'll break up. Or that we'll have holidays and summers and weekends here and there."
Shock covers your face when you look up, and there are tears in your eyes. Shit. I've never seen you cry, and now you look like you're about to because of me.
"I wasn't going to say any of those things. You're making this really hard on me, Edward."
"How?" I struggle to keep my voice from rising. "I'm trying to tell you that I'm happy for you, and you won't let me."
"Maybe I don't want you to be!" you shout.
Well, hell.
"What's going on in here?" asks a deep voice behind me.
Double hell. I turn my head to see both of your parents. Thankfully, they don't look mad. Just curious.
"Nothing, Daddy. It's okay."
He narrows his eyes for a second, then backs out of the room again toward the kitchen.
Your mom stays put. "Do you have PMS, Bella?" she whispers.
"OH, my god!" Your shout makes me jump, and now you're really on the verge of tears. I cover your hand with mine. "Mom! Please, please go."
Renee puts her hands up defensively. "Sorry, honey. I'll just…" She goes the same way your dad did, and we're alone again.
This is…uncomfortable. The tension in the air just multiplied.
"Look," I say, face flaming, because no guy wants to hear about his girlfriend's…girly business. "Can you just tell me what you need? I hate seeing you like this, and I hate that I'm making you feel this way."
You pull your knees up and wrap your arms around them. "It's not you. It's really not. I'm just… I don't know. Can you…can I… I think I need some alone time."
Your words are a hot knife to my gut, but you rush to explain.
"Just for tonight. I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by that."
Breathing out slowly, I find myself running both hands through my hair this time. "All right. I'm gonna go, then."
You nod and squeeze your arms around my waist when I stand up. Your touch reassures me. I kiss the top of your head, tell you bye, and leave.
My mom appears from around the corner when I slam the front door. She's wearing an apron and holding a wooden spoon coated in red sauce. "What on Earth is the matter?" she asks, wide-eyed.
"Sorry," I grumble. "Didn't think anyone was home."
"I parked in the garage. Honey, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." I follow her into the kitchen.
"Is it Bella? Did you have a fight?"
"Not…exactly." I open the fridge and close it again a second later, not really looking for anything. "I don't know. I've never understood girls."
"Naturally. You're a seventeen-year-old boy."
"I thought I understood Bella."
"What happened?"
All I really want to do is go up to my room and find solace in my favorite pipe, but I can't exactly do that with my mom here. So I give in and plop down on a barstool on the opposite side of the kitchen island.
"She got into Berkeley."
"That's wonderful!" Mom claps her hands together.
"Yeah, that's what I said. And then she got kind of…mad. Or something."
"Oh, honey. Girls are complicated." She comes around the counter to sit beside me. "But so are boys. You can't tell me you're not the least bit apprehensive."
"I am. But I didn't want her to see that. Then it was like she was pissed because I told her I was proud of her."
"She's probably feeling conflicted. It sounds like she wants you to be happy, but she also wants to know you don't want to be so far away."
"Yeah, I guess. She yelled, and her mom asked if she has…girl…troubles, and then she said she needed some time by herself."
My mom laughs. "I don't blame her. That's a pretty horrifying thing for someone to ask her daughter in front of her boyfriend."
My head's spinning. I need to change the subject. "Why are you making spaghetti at nine p.m.?"
"Oh!" She gets up to stir the sauce again, licking some off her finger. "You and your dad are going to be bachelors for a few days. I have to go down to San Francisco for a conference. So I'm making a big batch to freeze. All you need to do is boil some noodles and pop the sauce in the microwave."
"Oh." I don't mention how close she'll be to Berkeley.
An hour or so later, someone knocks on the door. Mom pokes her head around when I tell her to come in.
"Someone's here to see you."
My heart jumps into my throat, but when she pushes the door open wider, it's not you standing there. It's Alice.
"Hey, arschloch," she says, waltzing in with a Ziploc bag full of cookies. "What'd you do to Bella?"
"Jesus Christ, Alice. I really hope you're kidding right now."
"I'm, like, three-fourths kidding."
"When'd you change your hair?" I ask, sitting up from my sprawled position in the beanbag. Alice's normally blue hair is now a dark shade of purple.
She gives me an odd look. "It was like this at prom. Jasper likes purple."
I groan. Bella and I really have been living in a bubble over the past weeks. "Sorry."
"No biggie. Anyway, I talked to your girl earlier. What's with the angst?"
"I dunno. I think she's confused. Which makes me confused."
"I think you're right."
"No way." I smirk at her and steal a cookie. "You're willingly admitting that I might be right?"
She sighs. "I'm admitting that sometimes you're not so dense. I think you're both being silly."
I start to protest, to say that I'm not being silly. That you're the one who wanted to be alone. That I'm only upset because I somehow upset you.
"But," she says after practically swallowing a cookie whole, "every bubble bursts. Every couple has their first fight."
"We're not fighting." My brow furrows.
"You know what I mean."
"So…what? You think I should call her or something?"
"Mmm, nope. It's after ten. And I think you should respect her wish to be alone. But I also think you should pick her up for school tomorrow like normal and kick some sense into her."
"I'm not about to tell her what to do, Alice. This is her decision, and I don't want to influence it."
She throws her hands up and groans. "All these dramatics for probably nothing. You could still get into Berkeley, and even if you don't, it's not the end of the world."
"Yeah," I mumble, lying back on my beanbag again. "I know. I just feel bad for not knowing what she wants."
"I don't think even she knows what she wants right now. I think she needs to sleep on it. You'll both feel better in the morning." She leans over and hugs me tight. "I've missed you, friend."
"Me too," I say, ruffling her hair. Alice stays for a while longer, talking my ear off about Jasper and school and our German final next Monday. It's a nice distraction.
The only thing that sucks is that I need a distraction from thinking about you in the first place.
I'm beyond surprised to see you sitting on the couch when I come downstairs to leave for school. It's early still. I was going to grab coffee for us before picking you up this morning. I wonder if you even slept last night, because you hate getting up early.
"How long have you been here?" That might be one of the worst things to say right now, but it's my first reaction.
You stand and shrug. "Just a few minutes. Your mom let me in on her way out. Edward, I'm really sorry about last night."
"It's okay," I say, unsure if I should move closer or not. "I understand."
"Yeah, but it was really shitty of me…the way I handled it."
I keep quiet, because I don't actually want to tell you it's okay again.
"I'm just…conflicted. I guess I thought you'd be bummed or something. I didn't expect you to act so happy."
There's no actual amusement in my short laugh. "Bella, you have no idea how hard it was for me not to show how disappointed I was."
You close the distance between us tentatively and put your arms around my waist, locking your hands together behind my back. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too."
"You don't have anything to apologize for." You sigh against my chest. "I probably would've reacted the same way no matter what you said. I was just in a crappy mood."
"I get it," I say, stroking your hair and rocking us side to side. We stay like that for a few moments before I tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at me. "Next time, though, it'd be great if you'd talk to me. Help me understand what you need."
You nod. "Yeah. I'll try."
"I love you," I say, leaning in for a kiss. It's just a soft brush, but it still makes my heart beat faster.
"I love you," you repeat between kisses. "So much."
A/N: Sorry for the wait. It's been a busy few days! And thanks so much for all the kind reviews. You guys are the best. :)