Chapter 8: Ripples

Chapter 8: Ripples

Edward ignored me, so I did the same. But it didn't matter to me anymore. I say that, and yet, it's so empty. School went by, but it was too tedious. There was a pattern, and I figured it out. But I supposed that if I had disrupted the pattern, it would make things much worse. So my life went back to the numb and unfeeling void that it used to be… That is, before I met Edward.

I went back to the thoughts or raising money to get my own place. I came up with a plan, and I had to admit that Edward indirectly gave me the idea. The songs that I had written four years ago… there were many.

I went to my closet, reaching to the object that I had not used in a long time: my guitar. It was out of tune, but it didn't take long to fix that. I remembered each note, each chord and every word of each song. I practiced them up in my room.

My plan: I was going to roam around Forks and play songs where people passed by, and leave the case open for people who wanted to donate. In my case, it was like giving money to the poor. I knew that there had to be a place where people would pay a lot for that sort of entertainment.

While I practiced one of my songs, Uncle Charlie came in.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted.

"Hey," I said.

"So, you're playing again?" he asked, incredulous.

"Yeah," I explained, "I was hoping, Uncle Charlie, that maybe I could raise my own money. You know, go around and play my songs…"

"What do you need the money for?" he chuckled once.

"You know, better get started on my college fund," I lied, "I mean, I'll have to start sooner or later, right?"

"OK, Bells," he said, "That sounds like a good idea."

"I've already planned everything out," I told him, "After school, I'll go to… a nearby city. Is it alright with you if I come home at around six?"

"Of course," he smiled widely.

"Thanks, Uncle Charlie," I hugged him. But I wasn't smiling. I was lying to him, after all. He left me alone to practice.

But there was one song that I hadn't gotten around finishing, and it frustrated me.

Inside Your Heaven

Those three words that were on top of the page kept taunting me. I wasn't inspired to write that kind of love song. I turned the page to one of my favorites. Day Dream (actually by John Sebastian)

What a day for a daydream
What a day for a daydreamin' boy
And I'm lost in a daydream
Dreamin' 'bout my bundle of joy

And even if time ain't really on my side
It's one of those days for takin' a walk outside
I'm blowin' the day to take a walk in the sun
And fall on my face on somebody's new mowed lawn

I've been havin' a sweet dream
I been dreaming since I woke up today
It's starring me and my sweet dream
Cause she's the one that makes me feel this way

And you can be sure that if you're feelin, right
A daydream will last 'til long into the night
Tomorrow at breakfast you may prick up your ears
Or you may be daydreamin' for a thousand years

What a day for a daydream
What a day for a daydreamin' boy… Ooh… ooh…

It really was one of my favorites, because I made it when I was in a good mood. It was a song for cheering people up. And that's what it did.

It was a favorite song for the people passing by. I sat on a bench in the park and played that song almost all the time. They seemed to like my other songs, too. That was good.

In three weeks' time, I had earned about two hundred dollars. I figured it was enough to pay a few days' rent. If I did this as a day job, it wouldn't be that hard to live independently. Maybe I could work at small clubs, too. I hear the pay's good.

I was slightly feeling better because my plan was working. I had arranged to look at a few places on Saturday. That's when my pleasing thoughts were interrupted.

"So… Jessica asked me to the spring dance," Mike looked down.

"That's great," I said with some enthusiasm, "You'll have a lot of fun with Jessica."

"Well…" he hesitated, "I told her I had to think about it."

"Why would you do that?" I demanded. Was Mike being stupid on purpose? Jessica must feel terrible…

"I was wondering if… well, you might be planning to ask me," he said. It wasn't that I didn't like Mike, but I was planning to do something that particular Saturday.

"Mike, I think you should tell her yes," I said gently.

"Did you already ask someone?" he looked sad. I hated making people feel bad. I knew Mike liked me, but… This wasn't good…

"No," I explained, "I'm not going to the dance at all."

"Why not?" he asked rudely.

"I'm going to Seattle that Saturday," I answered honestly. I wasn't going to tell him why, of course.

"Can't you go some other weekend?" his tone became a bit unpleasant.

"Sorry, no. I made some arrangements," I made my tone a bit firmer, "So you shouldn't make Jessica wait any longer –it's rude." Jessica was one of my friends, and I wasn't going to allow another one of my friends to hurt my friend.

"Yeah, you're right," he mumbled. My face fell in my hands, I shook my head. This wasn't good at all.

I felt someone's eyes on me. Reflexively I looked at my lab partner. It was the first time in about a month. Edward was staring at me, and I caught myself staring back. I just couldn't seem to turn away. It was as if my mind was trying to rememorize his features. I realized that my dreams were as flawed as ever.

Yes, my dreams. For some reason I stopped having nightmares. Now, I had dreams about Edward. Maybe that was the reason why it didn't bother me so much that he was ignoring me, because I got to see him every night.

The dream was always the same: Edward was walking into the darkness and I tried to follow him. Every time, knowing that it would be in vain, I would beg him to stay. Yes, beg… it was embarrassing… But hey, he was the only person who has ever penetrated through the cold shell that shielded my hardened heart.

The bell rung, fishing me out of the deep crevices that were Edward's eyes. I started gathering my things when,

"Bella?" Suddenly my hearing was changed. It was as if I could hear again after a long time of being deafened. I had to admit, I missed his soft voice of velvet.

I looked at him, once again thrown into the crevice by my own recklessness. I waited for him to speak again, but we just continued staring at each other.

"Are you speaking to me again?" I asked nervously. I hadn't forgotten that I was scared of him. His anger was… intimidating.

"No, not really," he told me. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to get angry, not anymore. What was it about this boy that pulled me out of the numb fog every time I talked to him?

"Then what is it, Edward?" I breathed.

"I'm sorry," those words made me open my eyes, "I'm being very rude, I know. But it's better this way, really." I looked at his expression. He meant what he was saying. But…

"I don't know what you mean."

"It's better if we're not friends. Trust me," he explained. Trust him… He was asking something impossible of me. I had forgotten how to trust. Any emotion that had anything to do with the heart, I had forgotten. I became shallow.

"You regret it, don't you?" I guessed.

"Regret? Regret what?" he demanded. I could sense the anger building up in him. I began to stiffen.

"Regret… not letting that van squish me," I said slowly, "That was it all along, wasn't it?"

"You think I regret saving your life?" he seethed. This was the sign to run before his eyes went black, "You don't know anything." OK, now was definitely the time to run.

I hastily grabbed my books and walked as quickly as possible to the door. Unfortunately, my leg was not ready to do that yet. I tripped, my things crashing onto the floor. While internally scolding myself for looking stupid, I tried to gather all of my things. Edward was there, and he got my books for me. He handed them to me.

"Thank you," I said in a detached, indifferent voice.

"You're welcome," his voice was still cold. With that, I got up and walked stiffly to my next class. This boy was very perplexing indeed.

Again, Gym went by passively. I was still in no condition to play, though. No, basketball was a bit too strenuous for my leg. I would wait until the sport changed into something a little less… hazardous.

After class, strangely, Eric was standing by my truck. I wondered what he wanted.

"Hi, Eric," I greeted.

"Hi, Bella," he swallowed loudly. What was he nervous about?

"What's up?" I asked.

"Uh, I was just wondering… if you would go to the spring dance with me?" his voice broke.

"I thought it was girls' choice…" I was flustered. Was this going to end the same way it did with Mike? I honestly had plans this on that Saturday…

"Well, yeah," he agreed.

"Thank you for asking me," I explained, "but I'm going to be in Seattle… I made some arrangements…"

"Oh… Maybe next time," he mumbled.

"Sure," I bit my lip. There wasn't going to be a next time. Unhappy ending once again. I sighed as I got into my truck and proceeded to drive down the parking lot. But then I was deeply irritated.

A stupid silver Volvo was blocking my way. Why wasn't it moving? Ugh… Wait… silver Volvo… Edward's car… Oh dear lord, why was he punishing me like this?

I jumped when I heard a tap on the window. I looked to see Tyler… the guy who nearly crushed me with his van… I rolled down the passenger window.

"I'm sorry, Tyler," I said earnestly, "I'm stuck behind Ed –Cullen…" I didn't feel like saying his name. Didn't want to give him the wrong impression.

"Oh, I know," he grinned, "I just wanted to ask you something while we're trapped here." Oh no, not a third. "Edward, Edward, Edward, please move," I begged, "Please, please, please? Move!" "Will you ask me to the spring dance?" Tyler asked.

"I'm not going to be in town that day, Tyler," I told him.

"Yeah, Mike said that."

"Then why –?" I began to ask.

"I was hoping you were just letting him down easy," he shrugged. Never mind, I wouldn't mind disappointing this guy. How dare he think that? If I didn't want to go with someone to the dance, I would tell them. But I had a reason. God…

"Sorry, Tyler," I tried to sound as earnest as possible, "I really am going to be out of town."

"That's cool," he said, "We still have prom." Before I could react, he strutted back to his car. Oh, how I was wishing for the third unhappy ending. Did this guy have to be so persistent? I was losing my patience now. I revved my engine; I was close to getting out of my truck walking up to his car directly.

Then, he finally moved. Why was he doing this to me? Why did it matter to me what he was doing to me? Whatever.

I headed to the park once again, continuing my day job. But once again, it was different. The ripple effect… I probably didn't earn as much as I could have because I didn't mean what I sang. And guess who I had to blame for that.

Edward was puncturing a hole in my shell, and slowly making my heart alive again.

But how?