If you've reviewed me and I haven't responded I'm very sorry. I thought I was diligently replying to every single review but I've realised that all my replies were coming back to my inbox. I am a digital know-little. If you have received a response from me it's a marvel, or perhaps I'm not as sdrawkcab as I think I am.
PRIMARY ONE
BLUE
The next day when my dad dropped me at school it was obvious as soon as I set foot on the grounds that Justin had told everyone I'd gotten in Edward's car. My whole year, and half of every other year gawped and nudged the nearest person in the ribs with their elbows. Then they all swivelled their heads so they could gawp at Edward, who was just driving in.
"So what were the two of you doing? I guess we can't call him Eddie No Friends anymore, can we? He's Eddie One Friend now," Mike sniggered. "Eddie Bella's Friend. Or would that be Eddie Bella's CarFuck Friend?"
"Screw yourself," I replied.
"Bella, next time you can borrow my van, if you want," Justin offered. "That way when he parks you up somewhere on the way home you can hump him on the mattress instead of in his back seat."
I scowled hard. "You're way off the mark. But just for the record, I'd rather hump him in the back seat of his car than on your filthy mattress any day, asshat."
"Fine by me," a voice said, and there was dear Eddie One Friend himself, standing right behind me and getting in on the conversation. I turned to send my scowl in his direction and found him smirking.
"Drop fucking dead, all of you," I said, blushing to the roots of my hair, and storming off.
My blush didn't let up all the way through first period, and by second period I was still wearing it. Second period happened to be biology. Great. Edward Cullen's smirk hadn't let up either.
"Get out of town," I hissed, and he smirked some more.
"Edward, would you like to share with the class just what is amusing you so much?" Mr Banner asked.
"No sir," Edward responded, failing to assemble his face into seriousness.
And then just to make my day perfect, Banner gave us an exercise which involved working in pairs and having to actually talk. I preferred it when he demanded everybody observe the code of silence. Edward lost no time in standing close to me and murmuring, "So - the backseat humping in my car? When would you like it to happen?"
"That's not exactly what I said - " I started.
"I know exactly what you said. I was there. And it's already gone viral - the entire school knows and it's probably the talk of the staffroom as well. By this afternoon everyone from here to eternity will know what you said."
"I was insulting Justin's revolting mattress, not making any declarations about you!"
It occured to me then that the look on Edward's face wasn't exactly self-satisfied, like a smirk would normally be. It was more sincere than that. He was genuinely, truthfully, honestly smiling, for fuck's sake. He looked the happiest I had seen him look since he hit puberty, at around thirteen, and God knows he'd looked completely miserable since then. We were handing a microscope back and forth between us and attempting to present a composed front while this exchange and my observations were taking place. I felt anything but composed.
"I'm available this afternoon, if it suits," Edward offered, and now he looked goddamn eager.
"Didn't you hear anything I said to you yesterday?" I demanded.
"Yes, I did. You don't want to date and have your grades suffer. I can be your study partner, if that would help. You don't want to get pregnant. I promise you once we get to that stage, we'll take precau-"
"What don't you understand about all this?" I yelled at him. Banner gave us both detention.
I was beyond furious. Detention meant that Justin would leave without me - and guess what? I'd have to get a lift home with eager Edward!
"Don't blame me for your temper," he said evenly when I climbed into the Edwagon after our release from Banner's unreasonable incarceration. I slammed the passenger side door shut. It seemed appropriate to maintain a frosty sulk all the way home.
But a short way from my house, Edward killed the motor and faced me. "Look, I get that what you said earlier may not have come out exactly the way you meant it. I get that I'm hoping it was a freudian slip, and you insist that it wasn't. What I want to know is why you're so angry all the time."
"I'm not angry," I started.
"Yes you are. What have you got to be so riled about? Your parents split up, I know that. You think it was because of you but that's highly unlikely - they probably just weren't compatible. You're wary of letting anyone close because you saw your parents' relationship come apart and you're scared the same thing could happen to you. You're also scared you'll have a baby too young."
"Well, shit Professor, you're brilliant. A five minute analysis of me and you didn't even use inkblots."
He could have been annoyed with me for being so rude to him, but he wasn't. He was a patient guy, and forgiving. I didn't deserve it.
"Bella, it's a fact of life that relationships break down. It's unfortunate, particularly when people get hurt. You can recover from it and move on and make different choices. And these days no-one needs to have an unplanned pregnancy. No-one. And even if a baby comes along early, there are options for young parents, and they can both still go to college and still do something meaningful with their lives along with parenting. A baby isn't the end of anything - it's the beginning," he said.
I wasn't appeased.
"That's easy for you to say, Mr Silver Spoon!" I hurled at him. "Your father's money can see you over any hurdle, past any hiccup. You'll be in med school without having to wait tables or flip burgers, or valet-park people's cars - if you have a precious early baby you can employ a nanny 24-7 - your way will be paved in fucking gold - "
"Stop right there," he said abruptly.
"Why? It's the truth."
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
He turned away from me, but not before I'd seen his eyes narrow. He was clenching his fists on his thighs, and a muscle worked in his jaw.
"Hey - " I began, reaching a hand to him. I'd never seen him look like this before.
"I'd better go. I'll see you tomorrow," he said curtly, starting the car as my hand fell back to my side.
"Edward, what's the matter? Now you're the one who's angry. What did I say?" I pressed.
"Don't worry about it. I need to get going now, Bella. Sorry I got you on detention. Sorry you're late home."
He was pulling up smoothly outside my house while I was trying to catch my breath. That was a mood swing faster than any I ever had even when I was pre-menstrual.
"You were right just before when you said I had no idea. Please tell me what's wrong," I persisted. "You ask me things to get me to talk. Now, I'm asking you. You talk."
Edward swallowed, and I could see him considering my words. He was clearly reluctant to say anything, but I'd raised a valid point. It took him a couple of minutes to make his mind up, but finally he shrugged.
"Okay. Carlisle Cullen is not my father. I told you that. The man whose genes made me - I don't even know his name. You were sounding just like Carlisle then, saying that money is the answer to everything, but it isn't. Fuck - it isn't. You and I both have concerns about our futures - everybody does at our age - but your issues and mine are so different! You worry about money, and I admit that I don't, at all. But, God, your worries are so material - and mine are... I don't know what to call them. Mine are existential in comparison. You're thinking about your future and education and college and all those things, and you're starting from a position of such fucking security! You couldn't possibly imagine what it's like not to have that. Carlisle Cullen's name and money are both a stepping stone and a parachute for me, sure - but fuck! He's not my father! He's some random fucking guy who picked me up like I was a puppy in a pet shop! You know where you came from and who you are - knowing who you are is the answer to everything. You're Isabella Swan, and there's no question about it, no doubt. I may have a trust fund - but what the fuck is that worth when I'm not Edward Cullen?" he asked me.
This was completely out of the blue and I was speechless.
"Do you understand how much of anyone's sense of self is given solid grounding by their parents? Grandparents? Siblings? You don't have siblings, but at least you know you don't. I have a whole extended family, two even, that I know nothing about. You can look back at photo albums, and medical records - you have a whole history, Bella. A genealogy. I don't. Everything about me has been assumed - taken on. My history starts with the day Carlisle brought me home from the hospital. My ancestry, my background, my genealogy is lost. So I'm bright. Where did that come from? My musicality? Athleticism? Who fucking knows? None of that genetic information is available." Almost in tears, he beseeched me.
"Carlisle and Esme both have hazel eyes. My green eyes, Bella. Whose are they?"
I put my hand out again, and took one of his. I gripped it hard.
"Can't you make inquiries? Find that stuff out?" I suggested, feeling so lame and small in the maelstrom of this unexpected and sudden despair. "There are organizations..."
He sighed heavily, the weight of worlds in that single long exhalation.
"Well, there's the other thing, Bella. The crux of it all, really. Your mother found herself expecting a baby - she and her husband, both young, both trying to make a start for themselves. They were in love, and they wanted you, and they kept you, despite the hardship. That didn't work out for them, and your mom left, but she took you. And you visited your dad as often as the three of you could manage it. Then your dad wanted you living with him, and here you are, here in Forks, WA. But you know what? My mom didn't do any of that. She gave me up. Right there in the hospital, I was still covered in blood, I'd barely taken my first breath, and she was signing the forms so that I would be taken away. Yes, there are organizations, but both parties have to register in order for the surrendering parent and the surrendered child to be matched up. I haven't got the fucking heart to put my name down, and face being met with a brick wall. Because she doesn't want to find me, or for me to find her. And there you have it. I may appear privileged, and I may seem to have everything going for me but I'm actually a motherless child, made that way by the woman who gave birth to me. She didn't want me. Yes, I've got a trust fund, Bella, and I can give you the fucking money to go to college. Say the word, and I'll do it. Carlisle's money means nothing to me other than a means to an end. You need it, you can have it. What I want is what you've had - biology - and all the money in the world can't buy me that."
Well, Jesus. Edward, crown prince of Forks, wasn't just lonely. He was suffering a life-long identity crisis that was crippling him, and he nursed pain that was soul-deep. The revelation was astonishing. I wished I could do something for him - I wished I could make it all less, and bearable - but what was there to say? All I could possibly offer was platitudes. Maybe his mom had been on her own, with no partner and no parental support. Maybe it had been something to do with religion. Maybe she'd been scared and hurting and could see no other way for herself and her baby, and she'd honestly thought she was doing the right thing for him by giving him a better chance. Maybe even now she was just as upset as he was.
But I couldn't insult him by saying any of these things as though he wouldn't have already thought of them a million times before. Instead I let go of his hand and put my arms awkwardly around his neck, pulling him to me in that small space as he bowed his head into my shoulder. I felt like the young mother I was sworn not to be, my whole being occupied with providing solace to someone in need.
"Edward, Edward."
I whispered the name he went by, even though he said it wasn't his, and I rocked him gently as his whole body began to heave and his arms locked painfully tight around me. Eventually he drew away, eyes red-rimmed.
"I'm so sorry to lay all that on you," he began, shakily.
"Hey, no problem," I shrugged. "You've heard my shit, now I've heard yours. That's what friends are for."
"We're friends now?"
This whole business was so much bigger, so much heavier, so much graver than I could possibly have anticipated when it had become apparent he had a crush on me. Edward might want a girlfriend, but he needed an anchor. If nobody except his family knew he was adopted, then nobody else knew this dreadful burden he was carrying. I was it.
"Guess so," I answered, and he managed a small, humorless grin.
"Thanks," he said. "I'll see you tomorrow then, friend."
"Guess so," I replied.
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