Chapter 3~ Watching You

I've Been Watching You

I stand at an open window I see everything there is to see

I've been watching you

Isn't it true the fool keeps taking you down down taking you

I' ve been watching you

Isn't it true the world keeps taking you down down taking you

I've Been Watching You

~ Natalie Imbruglia

~Edward~

My head was fucking killing me. I woke with what felt like a giant pickaxe wedged between my frontal lobe and my skull. Occasionally, I was plagued with these horrific migraines; binding, deafening, completely debilitating headaches that nothing but strong painkillers would relieve. I would spend the day in bed, under the cover of complete darkness, and a shroud of Percocet. Unfortunately, I had an English exam fourth period and I never missed an exam. I was somewhat admittedly anal about my grades- amongst other things.

Carlisle said that was the result of stress and anxiety. I was a sixteen year old kid with the ailments of a forty five year old man. I suppose it could be worse. At least I didn't have acne or dandruff, so I guess migraines paled in comparison to that shit.

"Hey, no more driving Xanax to school." Jazz said excitedly. He rubbed his hands together, distracting me from my pathetic reverie. He popped down next to me at the kitchen island as my mother placed a plate with a buttered English muffin in front of me. She patted the back of my neck affectionately. I picked at the muffin, making a face that clearly showed my disgust.

"Edward honey, why are you taking Xanax? Are you having attacks again?" Esmom asked sweetly, always concerned about my anxiety attacks. I loved her dearly, but sometimes she was a little "out there."

"No, Mom," I responded with an exasperated sigh. "Xanax is Jazz's nickname for the little crack head down the street." She looked at me quizzically for a more elaborate explanation. "She's a little energetic, mom... Xanax relaxes you…" Esmom picked up her plate and left the table shaking her head. She strongly disapproved of us calling people names, and using pharmaceutical references to bat.

"Stop picking at your breakfast, and just eat it," she scolded.

"Ma, what the hell is this?" I asked.

"Organic spelt and flax seed muffins with unsalted soy butter." On the counter next to the coffee pot sat a container of organic enriched rice milk that I narrowed my eyes at bitterly. Where in the hell was my goddamn Half and Half. I was about to go into a full on rant about my shit being used and not replaced, but I just didn't have the energy for it.

Jasper mouthed, "Spelt?" I shrugged my shoulders, pushing the plate away. I was so not in the mood for the Hippie Gourmet today, not that I had much of an appetite at all.

"Why can't we be a normal family and eat Cocoa Pebbles for breakfast?" Jasper asked.

"Because I don't want my children ingesting dyes and artificial preservatives. Besides, have you looked in the mirror lately, either of you? Look at my gorgeous boys. You think that comes from Cocoa Pebbles?" She squeezed Jasper's chin and placed a kiss on top of his head.

"Well it sure as hell doesn't come from spelt," Jasper mumbled. "Hurry up, E. We're hitting the Coffee Bean drive through on the way in."

I nodded in agreement. "So, did Alice get her own car?"

"Nope, apparently Charlie's daughter's starting school today. Her name is Bella," he said with a terrible Italian accent. "Xanax said she's getting a ride with her from now on." I nodded, not really caring either way. Alice, or Xanax as we unaffectionately dubbed her, was a cute little girl, but she could definitely get on my nerves. I'm pretty sure she had a crush on Jasper, because whenever she was around him she seemed to go off like a frayed electrical wire. Around me, she was silent and seemed like she was petrified of my presence. I wasn't sure if that bothered me or not.

So evidently, the new girl with the great rack was taking little Alice off our hands. Fine with me. Even though Alice was cute in a Chihuahua sort of way, her incessant yapping at seven in the morning made me nuts.

We grabbed our bags, as Esmom endowed us with her good bye forehead kisses. I respectfully waited until she turned away to wipe at it, my OCD kicking in. I knew it was a problem, not only for myself, but it clearly affected everyone around me. Most times I could keep it at bay, but things out of order, messes and stupid things like unkempt fingernails, body hair and wrinkled clothing made me fucking crazy. And messy kisses. Messy anything, really. I had always been neat and organized…the typical type A personality; competitive, overachieving, hardworking, perfectionist…but when we moved to Forks it grew progressively worse.

I asked Jasper to drive that morning, even though it was my turn because I was afraid I couldn't concentrate from the headache pain. We watched from our driveway as Alice and the new girl, Bella apparently, greeted each other on her driveway. Jasper and I shared a knowing glance as they got into her car and tore down the road.

"Bro…you recognize that ass, don't you?" he asked, blasting the heat.

"Yup. Wonder how her nose is?" I replied, realizing that not only did the girl I was watching last night have a great rack, but an ass that could make a thousand men weep. A thousand and one, if I included myself, which I most certainly did.

Distracted by the sight of Bella, we both forgot all about the coffee and followed her straight to school.

When he pulled in to the spot right next to the red Audi, I knew I didn't have the tolerance to deal with Alice's squealing exuberance. And it would be very unlike Jazz to abstain from meeting the school's freshest piece. As much as I wanted to put a face to the image I was fantasizing to, I couldn't help feeling a mild disgust and perversion for defiling this girl in my head. So, I grabbed my bag and bolted out of the car just as Jasper was introducing her to me. Yeah, it was really rude, but I just couldn't do it.

I did get a quick glance at her though. Cute, definitely cute. But one look at the tight jeans and the boots she had on, told me to stay the away from her. Not that I had another option.

One look said she he was materialistic and shallow, concerned with her nails and her hair and what poor sucker she'd get to take her to the prom.

I headed over to my first period class, praying the Tylenol would kick in as fast as possible. After what felt like hours of my French teacher's incessant rambling about the proper ways to conjugate the verb, the pain subsided to a dull, throbbing ache. I knew I should have asked Carlisle for something stronger before I left the house. I hated to do that though, since he kept the good drugs locked away in a cabinet in his home office, and it made me uncomfortable to ask.

We all knew that was for my benefit, what with my history of recreational drug use. Though unbeknownst to the adults, we all smoked weed like it was our job. Carlisle would never insinuate that the lock was because of me though, always impartial and treating his three children equally. I didn't enjoy the intense scrutiny the last time I'd asked for Percocet's for my headache, so I suffered with the over the counter stuff.

On my way to fourth period English, I noticed Bella leaning against the wall, looking like she was about to pass out. It went against my better judgment to speak to her because I tried to just ignore the female species as a whole. But she looked so lost and scared and I remembered back to when I started this school less than a year ago.

Though the school had a total enrollment of around three hundred students, the first day was somewhat terrifying with all the faces scrutinizing and staring at the new kids. I remember hiding out in my car during lunch so I could assuage my panic with some Mozart. It worked like a charm, and I was back to my usual asshole tough guy persona within the hour. Tough guy on the outside, shaking like a scared kitten on the inside.

I'd walked right past Bella and then as the guilt plagued me, backtracked. I asked her if she was alright, I suppose as a quasi-penance for my voyeurism. She said she was lost, looking for her classroom and I led her there, knowing we would be sharing the class together- Advanced Placement English. I suppose I made a false assumption when I said she was all beauty and no brains. Apparently she had them both.

Because I finally got a good look at her.

And she was fucking beautiful.

Her brown eyes spoke volumes, yet hid secrets that no one would ever know. She had little flecks of pale green and gold in her eyes, and her lightly made up lashes were long and thick. She batted them unconsciously at me when she spoke and I wondered if she was even aware of what that did to the male species. I am certain the result was the same physiological response I got from it... a tent in my pants and a complete loss of words.

I took my test, desperately trying to get my focus off of those eyes and concentrate on the words as they began floating and bouncing along the paper. The Tylenol had worn off and the migraine was threatening to reappear with a vengeance. By fifth period lunch, the migraine was back in full force. The school's cheeseburger made me even more nauseated than usual just looking at it. I watched Jasper wink at Bella, and she returned it with a clearly unflattered eye roll. I had to laugh at him for trying.

All these morons were so transparent. Every single one of them gaped at her…mouths open, staring at her ass as she walked by. This high school hadn't seen anything that cute in years.

Mike had "claimed her" the week before she even got here. He usually was able to get just about any girl he wanted until they were given fair warning about the fact that he wasn't the least bit picky about who he slept with. Yeah, Charlie's kid would probably end up banging Mike.

I could never be like that- just sleeping with random girls because I could. That is, when things were different for me.

I was just too fucking picky. She had to be…I don't know, special I guess. And I'd never found anything close to what I thought defined that. I don't even know if I could even define it now, if it's even the same. They guys used to bust my balls about it all the time, telling me to just take advantage of what was being thrown at me. And there was an abundance at one time, if I do say so myself.

But I knew what I liked, what I wanted, and I didn't settle for less than perfection just to get off. I'd only had one girlfriend, but I could hardly count that as an actual relationship since it was in seventh grade, lasted two weeks and we only held hands once. In Chicago, I'd kissed a shitload of girls, fooled around with a few and as far as sex, well of course, there was Tanya and What's Her Face. Both undeniable mistakes- which just went to show that past experience told me I should be more discriminating about the girls I fooled around with.

Jasper had his fair share of girls in Chicago, before he met Emily and practically dropped to one knee to propose the same day that he kissed her. Emmett was a little more cautious and particular about his women; his focus remained strong and undeterred on academics and athletics. Not that an exorbitant amount of available tail wasn't thrown at him as well, but he was a little more conservative that one would expect from a guy that good looking.

He had something going on with Rosalie Hale, I was sure of it, but he blew off any questions of interaction with her. Jasper and I noticed them flirting last weekend, and he came home smiling to himself with a faint glow about him, like he had just gotten some. If a girl who looked like that was giving you head, you shout it to the world or wear a giant blinking sign that says, "Rosalie Hale sucked it." Something was up with them. But whatever. I didn't give into gossip or speculations about other people's sex lives, because it only made me feel shittier and impossibly more bitter for what I couldn't have.

#

I headed toward the nurse's office to acquire more painkillers for this persistent headache that seemed to consume every thought. When the nurse said she had to call my parents to get their permission before administering Tylenol to a student, I practically doubled over with laughter at the thought. Whatever, rules are rules.

I was going to be late to Bio again. One more tardy would land me detention. Not that I even gave a shit, but something like detention was reason for Carlisle to take away my car privileges, and I was not having any of that. It bothered me more that I had demerits on my record as it was. Maintaining a 4.0 average and acting like you didn't give a fuck about it was hard work.

When finally I got to Bio, there at my lab table was none other than…Bella Swan. We greeted each other politely and I kept my face forward trying to avoid her or give her the least bit of indication that I had a desire to chat it up. I couldn't look her in the eye after the filthy things I made her do to me in my fantasy last night, though I must admit I really wanted to. Plus, I was at the end of my tolerance with the fucking headache and I just couldn't take the throbbing pain anymore. I had been counting the minutes till the period ended and I grabbed all my stuff as soon as the bell rang. I ditched seventh period study hall, ducking into my car just for a smoke and some quiet. I even fell asleep for about an hour, which was just enough time for the pain to be gone completely.

I made it back inside just as the eighth period warning bell rang and slipped onto the gym floor before no one noticed. That was the other thing about me. If I was anal about my grades, I was just as concerned about marks on my record. Things like detentions and excessive absences looked terrible on college applications. Study hall was the only period I would ever ditch, simply because the teacher didn't give a shit where we were, as long as we signed in.

We were playing a mean game of volley ball in gym and Jasper got all excited when he saw Bella across the gym. She just avoided the ball and ducked. Probably didn't want to break a nail or some shit. I realized that this girl was in four out of the eight classes I was in, but I guess with such a small school that was to be expected.

Jazz headed out to the car before me, impatient with how long it took me to get dressed and organized. No one usually showered after gym but me, because like an idiot, I couldn't stand to be sweaty for a second longer than was wholly necessary.

From across the lot I could spot her ass. Jasper was looking quite cozy talking to Bella, so I brushed past her and sat in the car. I turned on the radio, waiting for him to finish flirting with her, not at all happy about it.

Maybe I was just pissed because I wanted it to be me that was talking to her.

When he got in, he started the engine, casually informing me that she would be joining us for a smoke...in the tree house. I hit the fucking roof.

"Are you crazy? What the hell are you thinking?" I sat seething in the front seat with my fists balled at my sides. He just didn't have a clue as to the severity of this. And not only allowing this girl who either of knew at all to be in such close proximity to us, to me, he was letting her in on something that could really fuck us both. It was bad enough we were smoking up on our own property and our parents didn't know, but now to add someone else in?

"Oh, come on. She can sit on my lap to give you the three foot radius you require. Who's gonna know?" He snickered, throwing the car into reverse.

"Fuck you, Jasper. I am glad you are so amused by my situation. What if she says something to someone?" I asked, my paranoia kicking in.

"Edward, did you ever think that maybe no one actually gives a shit what you do outside of school? She's not gonna say anything."

"Fine...whatever." I pensively agreed, pissed off again. In truth, it made me really nervous to be in such close proximity to her, but for many reasons other than the legal ones. I couldn't even make eye contact with this girl, never mind sit in a five by five enclosed wooden box with her. High, no less.

Regardless of my feelings, we met her in front of her house and walked together down the back path to our fort which she informed us was her tree house. I felt so badly about the dolls, and the rundown condition of the tree house, though I gave no indication that I cared one way or another. We blamed the wreckage all on Emmett, but it was the three of us who inflicted pyrotechnic torture on the dolls and tore into the flowers that were decorating the outside. The thing hadn't been used in years and none of us had ever taken into consideration that the swing set actually belonged to someone who may have loved it at one time. She didn't seem appear upset about it, but I could definitely see a flash of nostalgia as she held the mutilated doll in her hand.

I tried hard to not make eye contact with her, so I fidgeted with my lighter and kept my focus on the messy stack of magazines piled in the corner that was irritating me to no end. She was wearing a white button down shirt that she had tied up in the front in a knot. It showed just a tiny bit of her stomach and the faint glint of a dangling navel ring. I inwardly groaned at the way she looked in it.

White shirts were my Achilles heel. There was something so pure and simple, yet so sexy about them. Most guys were into thigh high stockings and lingerie and shit, or just naked girls in general. But sexy to me would be for my girl to walk around the house in nothing but my button down. Then Jazz, that fucking asswad, had to go and be all suggestive with the talented fingers comment. He could be such a douche sometimes. Did I want her to know I played the piano? Did I actually care? I don't know that I wanted anyone to know that about me- too personal, too intimate.

Playing the piano was the only thing I had from my old life that I took with me to the new one. My mom encouraged playing, and I probably would have just given it up completely if it hadn't been the only thing that I did these days that seemed to make her happy. And god knows how I needed her approval.

Bella was actually cool, for lack of a better term. She wasn't as shallow or as dumb as I originally pegged her. In fact, she seemed very down to earth, aside from the expensive boots and the designer jeans that hugged her curves like they were made for her.

However hot she was, there was something about this girl that irked me. Maybe it was her stupid socks or that dumbass fluffy pink pen, not to mention the fact that she was best friends with Xanax, and that alone earned a demerit or two. And the goddamned tan…annoyed the shit out of me. I hated artificial things on a girl: boobs, hair, nails and especially tans. I actually felt myself sigh in relief when I learned she was from California, which earned her the right to naturally suntanned skin and my approval.

She was impressed with my joint rolling technique, as she should be, but she was funny with the dog thing. I haven't laughed like that in forever. I felt a lot less anxious around her after the weed kicked in, and let my walls down just a little.

When she asked about our parents and why we looked so different, it caught me off guard. No one ever had made observations like that, and if they did, they never had the nerve to ask. Jasper explained that I looked like my mom. It sent a shot of anger through me, because I knew I looked identical to my biological father. I don't know why I admitted that or why I even gave a shit. It was just that I felt maybe credit should be given where it was due. Anyhow, it sort of shocked me that I said it when I did. This girl was already unraveling all my control.

Then Jazz asked her why she moved here, and my ears shot up like a hunting dog hearing a rabbit scurry in the woods. Her answer was about as vague as the answer I would give about my own reason for moving to Forks. I watched as her pretty brown eyes filled with unmistakable sadness while she fumbled to answer indirectly. She was obviously hurt by a guy and left California because she couldn't handle the heartfail. It was clear that she became uncomfortable and fidgety talking about it. My curiosity was definitely piqued. I had to fight back the urge to ask her to elaborate, but I decided quickly that there was absolutely no point in extending any effort to get to know her. Especially since Jasper already seemed to have a definite hard on for her. If she was going to hang out with us, then we would get high or whatever and I would have to be a dick to her. I had no choice…it was just easier that way.

Jasper would end up screwing her, maybe even dating her, and before he got bored I would have to endure a few family dinners with her present at the table. Then she'd be history, and he'd move on to someone else, as would she.

There was nothing I could do about any of that. As far as I was concerned she was a pretty thing to look at, whether sitting next to me in Biology or from afar as I peered into her window at night. And since Jasper seemed to have taken a liking to her, then good for him, he could have her. He deserved a nice girl in his life, and I certainly owed him one. If I could live vicariously through my brother's conquests, then so be it.

When we departed the tree house at dinner time, we all squeezed drops of Visine in our eyes and made our way back through the overgrown path toward home. I was feeling conflicted and shitty and I knew it was going to be one of those nights that I would obsess and torture myself with thoughts.

Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, clearly not expecting our arrival, as he had her pressed against the stove in a loving embrace. She shrugged him off, giggling, but he continued to nuzzle his face in her neck as she stirred the pot of organic tree bark and freshly cut grass clippings or whatever the fuck she had concocted for us to eat.

I felt a potent surge of envy at the sight of their embrace. Not for their relationship, though it was definitely one to be modeled after, but because sometimes it was extremely difficult to watch other people give and receive so much affection. My mother was clearly uncomfortable in their display with us present, so she swatted him with a kitchen towel until he dismounted her to greet us.

From the outside, we were the perfect family- doctor dad that was home every night by six, mom who was loving and nurturing even if she couldn't cook for shit. There was the prodigal eldest child, proficient at sports and academics, with good looks and charm to boot. There was Jasper, the middle child who was just as good looking, great at lacrosse and basketball and who got good grades without trying. And then there was little Edward, the black sheep of the family, obsessive compulsive freak who failed at life and punished everyone in his family for his indiscretions.

I remained quiet during dinner, picking at the twigs and berries Esme called sustenance, as Jasper prattled on incessantly about school and about Bella. Emmett came in from practice a little later, sweaty and streaked with dirt as he spewed out details of his fucking fantastic quarterback skills and all the girls who stood soaking in the rain to watch the team. It irked me to no end that he could sit there and eat marinating in his own filth like that, but I kept my mouth shut. No one even noticed that I hadn't said a word. Not that I was ever so talkative at mealtime, or ever really, but I always felt like sort of an afterthought; slightly invisible, like the elderly grandma that got placed in the corner on Thanksgiving and ignored.

I helped with the dishes as Emmett headed upstairs for a much needed shower and Dad and Jasper disappeared into the basement. My mom gave me a meek smile, which I returned as I set the dinner plates on the counter. She knew me well, and as she put a hand on my back, she said softly, "Tough day?"

I shrugged. "No more than usual."

Shutting the door to the dishwasher, she turned to me. "Do you want to talk? It seems like something is on your mind."

I shook my head no, conflicted as to whether to share my angst with her even though I knew she would undoubtedly understand. She always understood. But I simply wasn't in the mood to feel.

"Come here," she said, wrapping her arms around my back to draw me into her chest, giving me no choice in the matter. I buried my head in her shoulder, sighing and reverently taking in the soothing movements of her hands rubbing circles on my back. I hadn't realized how much I had craved affection from her- and not in a creepy I love when my mother touches me-Oedipus Complex-greatest wet dream ever kind of way. It was just really nice to be touched by another human.

She understood. And it was funny because when I was little everything could be fixed with a hug from my mom. At sixteen, my problems were much bigger than a scrape on the playground or a fight with my brothers, but still, her hugs were the perfect temporary fix.

"Did you talk to Charlie's daughter today?"

"A little. She's beautiful, mom, and funny. She was lost and I helped her find her class... but…I think Jazz likes her, so…" I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders as I pulled away from her, cringing at how much of a girl I sounded like. My mother made some of my walls crumble effortlessly, and she knew I didn't like that she had that effect on me.

She stood almost a head shorter than I, her fine feminine features so unlike my own. She and I had the same shade of deep reddish brown hair, and the same long fingers, but that was all that I took from her gene pool. The rest of me was from a man in New York with my old name, who sent her a fat ass court-ordered check once a year in minimal recognition and obligation of his paternity.

Fucking prick.

"I'm sorry sweetie, I really am. If it means anything though, Dad and I are really proud of you for overcoming the hurdles. You could have handled this all a lot worse and we think you're doing great. It will all be over before you know it. You'll move on and forget it ever happened."

I shook my head, appeasing her, knowing that my eighteenth birthday was over a year and a half away. Forced abstinence was a living hell and seemed like an eternity to me.

"Thanks, mom."

#

I swam laps, aggressively parting the warm water as if it were as thick as oil, heaving all of my frustrations - general and sexual- into the strokes. Afterward, I showered, read another chapter of To Kill a Mockingbird and finished my geometry homework.

It was almost nine thirty, and knowing I had a few minutes to kill, I swept a dust cloth over my dresser top before running the vacuum over my bedroom carpet almost ritualistically. Once the machine was neatly tucked away, I grabbed a cigarette and stepped out onto the wooden deck into the misty night.

The overhang kept me dry while I flicked the motion sensor light off, walking around the corner to where I could see Bella's lit window. She had it cracked open halfway, the night breeze blowing her thin curtains around in a delicate swirl.

Leaning against the house, I lit the cigarette, sighing in disgust for myself and my disgraceful actions which, as deplorable as they were, I had absolutely no intention of discontinuing. I waited.

For a while there was no visible movement. "Where are you, beautiful?" I sunk to the floor of the deck, shimming all the way over where I could see inside her room better. I thought briefly about buying a pair of binoculars at Newton's, but that would be taking it a tad too far. I was a sex starved hormonal kid, not a psycho.

I could see the glow of her computer screen flicker off as she stood and walked to the closet. Her shirt lifted up and she stood there in her beige bra looking almost naked in the distance. After several outfit changes, she admired herself in the long mirror after choosing what I assumed to be the winning outfit for the next school day.

"Come on…take it off for me, please?' I whined. Finally, her bra unclasped and to my delight and surprise, she turned to the window. Bella gazed out for a moment or two, while I instinctively shrunk back against the wall. I knew she wouldn't be able to see me in the darkness, but still, I felt the need to hide in the shadows.

Once she disappeared, a minute or so passed and then the room went dark. I retreated to my bed, perversely easing away the frustration of my day, my unfortunate situation, my whole sad life.