Chapter 4~ I Think I Like You
Did you ever see a light inside your mind?
Did you ever stop to look what it makes you blind?
You should feel the love from my skin to my bones, it's a feeling that's making me high...
There is something and it makes me smile, I think I like you.
There is something burning in my mind, yeah, I think I like you.
~Blackbox Revelation- I Think I Like You~
~ Bella ~
In the morning, I woke with a happy grin. I slipped on a pale blue baby doll dress, leggings and ballet flats with a sweater. I poured a mug of coffee and sat at the kitchen table next to Charlie. He was immersed in the meticulous cleaning of a telescopic camera lens. A scary pair of heavy black binoculars sat next to him, and I picked them up, walking over to the front window. I could see clear into Alice's kitchen, what she was eating, even the tiny words on her cereal box. Turning to the right, I couldn't make out much of my neighbor's house through the thick trees and the drizzle, except the driveway where a gray BMW and a white Jaguar sat parked.
"Whoa, you could do some serious stalking with this, Dad."
"I am a PI, honey, that's what they are for. With serious stalking comes a serious price. You break 'em, you buy 'em," he chided, sipping his coffee. I placed the binoculars back on the table carefully, and sat, opening the wrapper of a strawberry Pop Tart.
"Hey, how's your mom's store doing?" My father intentionally avoided all indirect talk of my mother. He would ask how her car was, what job she was currently working, what crazy new piece of artwork she had created, but never a direct inquisition on how she was. I suppose he had too much pride for that.
"It's good. Really good, actually. You'd be surprised at what a savvy business owner she is. She runs a tight ship over there, and last I spoke with her she had plans on opening a second store. And from a financial standpoint, it's doing well. She dyed her hair back to brown too," I added, just in case deep down he was wondering. "She thinks we look like twins."
He grunted, sliding the lens back into its leather case, clearly amused by the latter statement. "Hey, I'm leaving for Seattle tonight for a few days, but I was thinking we'd go out to dinner Sunday, for a belated birthday celebration. What do you say?"
He had already sent a birthday card to California two weeks ago with a really great beaded bookmark and a gift certificate to a big chain bookstore. I was actually itching to get into Port Angeles to pick up some more books, because I couldn't realistically pack everything I had.
"Oh, that would be cool, I guess. Will Maggie be coming too?" I asked tentatively, feeling him out. He looked directly at me, obviously confused.
"You want…Maggie to join us?" he asked incredulously, surprised at the mention of her name.
"Why not, Dad?" I said. "Don't you think it was about time I met the woman you're spending all your weekends with?" I smirked, raising my eyebrows at him.
"Well, I wasn't sure if… "
"Mom remarried two years ago. I would expect that you would move on as well. Come, on, I want to meet her, for real."
"Sure, fine. We'll go to that Italian place in town." He resumed cleaning the lens fervently, while a small smile played on his lips. I suppose he was happy that it wouldn't be as hard of a transition for me, accepting Maggie into my life. I mean realistically, I couldn't blame either of my parents for their separation any more than I could blame them for finding suitable mates years later. They had gotten married too young, because Mom was pregnant and stayed together far longer than they should have for my sake. I wanted them both to be happy even if it was without each other.
We were interrupted by Alice's rapping on the front door and I kissed him on the cheek as I grabbed my bag. She frowned when she saw my outfit and made a whiny sound.
"Do you want to borrow the dress, Ali?" I asked, opening the car door. She smiled and shrugged her obvious answer being yes. "You can borrow whatever you want whenever you want it. My closet is your closet. I mean it." She beamed in her seat, and it made me giddy knowing I'd made her happy.
The sound of a car caught my attention as a silver BMW sped down the street from the Cullen home. It slowed at the foot of my driveway and I watched Jasper lean over to the driver's side window. Alice chatted cheerily with him while I made brief eye contact with Edward. He smiled gently, looking down at his hands and I said, "Morning."
"Morning," he repeated shyly. Though he was wearing the biker jacket again and a steel gray shirt underneath, he looked moderately threatening enough to intimidate. But the shyness in his voice was soft and childlike and I immediately felt something in my chest flutter.
What. The. Hell. Was. That?
They sped off down the road. Alice and I stared, fascinated at their vanishing image.
"You're right Al, Edward is definitely gaspy."
Rose and I chatted incessantly for the first ten minutes of class while Mike Newton tried to worm his way into our conversation. He had introduced himself to me, boldly and assumingly throwing his arm around my shoulders as I walked into third period. Rose practically flicked his forehead in effort to extricate his arm from my body, telling him I would need to be quarantined. He had a certain charm, and he wasn't without decent looks, but I found no interest in him.
Though I had always considered English as not only my best subject, but my favorite, I found myself really looking forward to fourth period. I was caught up with the reading assignments, and I was admittedly eager to see Edward again.
He was already in class by the time I arrived, slouched in the chair. He was reading an email on his phone, trying to be discreet about it by hiding it under the desk. Every few seconds he'd laugh quietly- a sound which tickled my insides. Once the teacher settled the class, he slipped the phone into his back pocket, never looking over at me.
It went without saying that I was thoroughly disappointed.
It was the same during fifth and sixth period as well. Edward never made eye contact with me, nor did he say hello, even at our Bio table where we were given a quiet reading assignment. He sat two feet away and couldn't manage to utter a simple greeting.
In study hall, I'd signed in, and looked around for an empty table. The main area was crowded and pretty damn noisy for a library. Walking through the doors to the reference section, there were two unoccupied tables in a really small enclosed area with a giant window overlooking the courtyard. I sat, peering out the window and pulled out my books.
I was immersed in history homework when a bag thumping on the table startled me. When I looked up his eyes struck me. They were a pale gray today, not at all green. "You're sitting at my table." He said flatly, causing my involuntary smile to fade into a frown.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know," I replied meekly, looking around at the empty table next to us. "I'll sit over there, I guess," I said quickly, gathering my things.
"No, stay. It's fine," he said quietly. His mouth moved to say something else, but he closed it and shook his head. He pulled out the chair with a grating sound as it scraped the floor and slid down into the seat.
"Thanks," I muttered quietly, insulted and even a little hurt. I thought at least after yesterday in the tree house, we could have considered each other friends, or at the very least acquaintances. But he seemed to not want much to do with me.
I continued with my homework, sneaking quick glances at him across the table.
Occasionally his eyes would meet mine, but he would quickly divert his gaze elsewhere. Toward the end of the period, Jessica Stanley, Lauren Mallory and Makenna Santiago plopped themselves down at the table. I sighed, steeling myself for their presences and the reputation I had heard they earned in the past few years.
"Hey, Bella. Nice to have you back in town," Lauren said, as she propped her chin in her palm, her voice thick with insincerity. Edward rolled his eyes in annoyance across the table as he continued writing in his notebook.
"Hey guys... how are you?" I replied, feeling instinctively territorial. I hadn't spoken to them in years, and the last I remembered was that they had begun to drift away from our crowd. I knew Lauren and Jessica from elementary school, but I'd never met Makenna until Rose had pointed her out in the cafeteria. She was petite, with dark curly hair and really pretty hazel eyes.
"Hey, Edward. I like your jacket. It's very James Dean," Makenna said, reaching across the space between them to touch the leather. His eyes widened as they followed the path of her hand. He inhaled deeply and she retracted her arm back to her side, clearly sensing that her touch was not welcome on his property. The silent exchange made everyone uncomfortable.
"Thanks," he muttered, staring directly at me. I took it as a look that meant that if I wanted to sit at his table, then that included myself and excluded present company.
"Um, so listen...we were wondering if you wanted to hang out with us this weekend?" Jessica asked, moving closer to me. The Lauren inched closer as well and I leaned back in my chair increasing the space between us. It was like those documentaries on the Discovery Channel with the hyenas going in for the kill.
I watched Edward's eyes open wide and then narrow into slits as he shook his head minutely, enough that I could heed his warning. "I uh, already have plans with Rose and Alice. You're welcome to join, though."
"No thanks." Lauren snapped. "We're not really part of the same circle anymore, if you know what I mean." She sniffed as the girls rose from their seats.
"Let us know if you change your mind, Bella," Jessica said as they departed. "Bye Edward." He did not respond.
I looked at him questioningly. "What…?"
"They're not good people, Bella. Makenna is okay I guess, but the other two are…just stay away from them. I'm serious." It was the most sincere I had ever heard him, not that we'd ever really had a conversation before, but the look in his eyes and the conviction in his tone made my breath hitch. I nodded, muttering in agreement.
When the bell rang a few minutes later, I rose, assuming we would walk to the gym together, but he took off ahead of me. I met the girls in the locker room, changed, and headed out to the floor to be assaulted with volleyballs. I managed to avoid two but took three to the head and hurt my finger trying to fend off a wayward volley. It was like being in Hell, only worse.
Jasper jogged over, quietly asking me if I was meeting them at the tree house again today. I smiled, shrugged and told him yes. Alice and Rose stared questioningly, but I blew them off and felt horrible about it. Inside I was flying.
I pulled into my driveway, expecting to see Edward's car parked in front of my house, waiting like Jasper's was yesterday, but it wasn't parked there or in his driveway. Grabbing my bag, I went inside to say hello to Charlie who was busy packing some clothing. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, checked that my mascara wasn't racooning around my eyes and told him I was going out for a bit.
I took the path down to the swing set, finding it still deserted. As I sat on the yellow plastic swing to wait, I wondered if they had forgotten, or if Edward deliberately drove off a cliff in a desperate attempt to avoid hanging out with me.
Gripping my fingers tightly around the ropes, I rocked forward letting the swing go. As the momentum gradually took me higher, I felt the cool wind brush along my face as I went forward and my hair wrap around in tangles as I swung back.
The movement of the old swing made a terribly loud creaking sound, almost like a groan. I laughed at the peculiar sound and the ticklish feeling of flying through the air just like I had done countless times when I was a child. It was such a liberating feeling, almost like being weightless but still in total control and I made a mental note to do it more often.
I heard voices and leaves crunching underfoot too soon to slow down. Edward and Jasper appeared on the path from my house side by side, wearing matching smiles. I slowed the swing down as they came closer, scraping my shoes along the wet, overgrown grass underneath my feet.
Once inside the tree house, Edward shut the doors behind him, and I opened the shutters to the little window to allow some light in. Once we were sufficiently buzzed, and all made various declarations of being in said state, we sat back and were quiet for a while. Edward chewed the inside of his cheek, crossing his legs in front of him, as Jasper leaned back on his elbows, stretching his long legs next to me.
His foot brushed my leg and he said, "Oh sorry, did I get you dirty?"
He sat up quickly brushing the smudge of mud away. I shrugged my shoulders, saying, "No big deal," because it wasn't. Edward smiled briefly before looking away almost forlorn. He was so weird.
"So what do you guys do here on the weekends?" I asked. I had a sudden craving for a cigarette.
"Unless there's a party, on Friday's usually we all go down to La Push and hang out there. Saturdays suck. It's considered date night or some shit like that."
"La Push beach?" I asked, remembering the numerous times my family had gone there over the years.
"Yeah, we hang by the concession stand. It has a big awning and picnic tables. Everyone brings beverages and we just hang and listen to music and shit. You're in Forks, babe…not exactly the excitement capital of the world." He laughed.
"No, it sounds good to me. Do Alice and Rosalie usually go there or…" I asked, not yet having consulted with my female counterparts about possible weekend activities.
"Yeah, usually. Like I said, not many options. You could always go to a movie in Port Angeles or something but no one really wants to drive that far."
I shook my head. "Hey Edward, you smoke right?" I asked. His head shot up unexpectedly, his gray eyes piercing into my brown ones. "Can I bum a cigarette?"
He reached into his pocket, placing the pack on the floor between us, rather than just handing one to me. He slid it forward a bit, and I thanked him, pulling one from the almost empty pack. He retrieved the pack, pulled one out for himself and lit it.
"Anytime," he responded smoothly, blowing smoke up into the ceiling. I watched his lips encircle the white tube, feeling the overwhelming urge to put my mouth on the cigarette after him so that I could taste him. The sight of his mouth moving around the cigarette instinctively made me touch my own lips. I licked them, putting the cigarette to my mouth, mesmerized by his face. He stared back at me pursing his lips before he blew a perfect ring of smoke over our heads. I took in the way the muscles in his throat moved and the slight protrusion of his Adam's apple as it bobbed.
What felt like a million years was probably seconds, but I couldn't help but feel exposed and ashamed and turned on all at the same time. Giggling at my stupidity, I snapped out of my hazy reverie and asked him for the lighter. Edward threw it to me overhand, though I was sitting a foot and a half away from him. It whipped past my head with a whizzing sound and smacked against the wooden panel a few feet behind me, falling to the floor with a thud.
"Oops, sorry." He cringed.
"Jesus, Edward," I said, "My step dad could use that arm on his team." Reaching behind me, I picked up the lighter and lit my cigarette.
"What team is that?" Jasper asked, rolling onto his side as he propped his head in his hand.
"Oh uh…my step father is a catcher for the Dodgers." I nodded, blowing a puff of smoke out the little window.
The two of them looked at each other incredulously and at the same time, asked, "Phil Dwyer?"
"Yeah, you know him?"
Edward rambled on about how Phil was nick named "Bionic Man" because of his knee replacement, how he won the gold on the US Olympic Baseball team in Sydney at the 2000 games, how he played for the Florida Suns before he was traded to the Arizona Diamondbacks, then he was injured before finally being signed to the Dodgers last year. He also went on about Phil's batting average and other various boring statistics, but my head sort of floated up above the clouds by that point.
I laughed again because first off, I had never heard him speak so much before, and second, he had a passion in him that was undeniable. This boy was a baseball fan for certain. I found it interesting that he was able to not only remember all of that information while high, but spew it out coherently.
"I am impressed," I said.
"Her stepfather is Phil Dwyer," Edward said to Jasper again, as if he still couldn't believe it.
"I'll get you an autographed ball if you like," I offered. The expressions on their faces were priceless.
I picked up a Seventeen magazine from the messy stack in the corner and leafed through it while they mumbled amongst each other about baseball stats and whatnot. I was not a sports fan at all. My mother dragged me to Phil's games to sit with all the team wives, but I found it boring and tedious. Truly, I never quite grasped what the thrill of the game was, at all, other than admiring the players nice butts in their tight pants.
"Hey, would it be okay if I could use your bathroom? Charlie is home and I don't want him to see me like this." We departed the tree house to make our way up to the path to their home. There was a peculiar pink station wagon with daisies painted all over it parked in the circular driveway.
"Is that Emmett's car?" I asked jokingly, obviously knowing that it wasn't.
They roared with laughter and Jasper muttered, "That's the housekeeping service."
Ah, of course they had housekeepers.
They led me through the double front doors into the massive pale gray marble tiled entryway. I stood gaping for a moment, taking in the elegance, the enormity and the comfort of it all. Admittedly, I was expecting the home to be pretentious and ornate, but it was anything but. Aside from the cold tiles underfoot and the twenty foot ceilings above, the enormous open space was oddly warm and inviting. The walls were a soft buttery yellow, bordered by bright white crown moldings, and chair rail. To the right was an open room with black grand piano set on a low platform. Behind that sat a massive fireplace with a lovely painting hung above the decorative wooden mantle. On either side of the fireplace were long windows, without curtains, I suppose to allow the rising sun light in. Behind that was the kitchen which I could only see a small portion of through the arched entryway.
The boys slipped off their shoes and set them next to a padded bench by the front doors. I followed suit, placing my tiny flats next to their enormous sneakers.
In front of us was a large staircase that led to the second floor, curved in an arch with a small table that sat under a beautiful painting. It was a Salvador Dali, and I had recognized it from the countless museum trips my mother and I took when we lived briefly in Manhattan.
"Is that an original?" I asked in awe.
"You know Dali?" Edward asked.
"Um, yes. I lived in New York for a bit and my mother and I took countless trips to the museums there. Dali is one of my favorites."
Edward's smile faded and he said, "You lived in New York?"
"Only for a few months and then we moved on to…"
"It's not an original," Jasper interrupted. "Dad wants one to add to his collection, but they are hard to come by unless you know the right people."
I nodded, feeling my bladder cringe. "Bathroom?"
Jasper led me to the bathroom off of the enormous kitchen, but we found the housekeeper on her knees buried in cleaner. He greeted her politely and then mumbled something about his and Emmett's bathroom being "fucking disgusting."
Edward sighed, offering to let me use his bathroom, which elicited an eyebrow raise from Jasper. The exchange was odd, but I was high so I thought I probably hallucinated it. With hooded lids, Edward led me up the stairs. We ambled slowly down the carpeted hall to the last door.
Again, I stood mesmerized by the sight. His room looked like it had been clipped from a Restoration Hardware catalogue. It was so intensely soothing and serene yet unsettlingly sterile at the same time.
Nothing was out of place. There was no typical teenage clutter, no piles of clothing, not a speck of dust along the dark furniture tops. But more notable than that, there was nothing on the shelves other than neat rows of books and CD's. No awards or trophies, no photos of family and friends, no banners or seductive posters of half-naked pop stars on the walls. On his desk sat a closed laptop computer and his book bag from school.
So unusual for a teenage boy.
The room had high ceilings with a skylight in the center, taupe walls and bright white moldings and dark wood furniture. On the left was a leather couch. To the right, a brick fireplace with a flat screen television hung above it, sat positioned between two doors.
"Edward, this is beautiful. I guess I came on a good day; the housekeeper has apparently already been up here."
He crossed the room and opened the bathroom door for me. "No, it always looks like this. She's not really allowed in my room. No one is," he said quietly.
I looked at him for a second, entranced by his eyes. "Your eyes are gray today," I whispered. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch his face.
"Oh, um…they change color depending on what I'm wearing."
Something fluttered in my chest again and I ducked into the bathroom before I puked or burst into tears or mounted his leg- either of the three a genuine possibility.
I looked around at the beautiful bathroom, which was about the size of my bedroom and sighed. Again- neat, meticulously clean and clutter free. I peered in the sink- not a single whisker could be found and by the look of his smooth face, he had definitely shaved that morning. I don't know why it fascinated me so much, I suppose I was used to the only two men in my life being slobs.
I used the toilet, washed my hands and noticed the moss green hand towels hanging perfectly level on the rack next to the sink. I was almost afraid to use them, so I patted my hands delicately, not really drying them much. Wiping them on my leggings, I opened the cabinet for a Band-Aid and muttered, "Holy shit."
There were six rows of toiletries, all high end brands, endless bottles of lotions, creams, colognes and tonics, and hair products. They were arranged in height order, labels facing outward, aligned in a perfect row. It felt like a cross between Sleeping with the Enemy and American Psycho. And truthfully, if he even closely resembled either, I should have been running away from that bathroom screaming for my life.
But I didn't.
I just couldn't.
"Hey Edward," I called, opening the door. He was sitting across the room on his couch with one leg tucked under him waiting for me. "You're a little OCD, huh?" I chuckled, saying it completely as a joke.
His face fell and he shook his head slowly in silent acknowledgement as his eyes met mine. In that moment, something passed between us that shook me. I realized that not only had he let me into his room but admitted something that was deeply personal and private and possibly embarrassing for him.
And I had made fun of him. He looked away, fidgeting with his hands in his lap, so childlike. Just as he did that morning, no leather jacket to hide behind, only his shyness and his anger. His ribbed gray shirt clung to his chest and arms, revealing defined perfection underneath the fabric.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." I said, planted firmly on the bathroom entryway feeling like a complete jackass. "I was just kidding."
"It's no big deal," he said quietly, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm a neat freak. Some people call it OCD. Depends on who you ask."
In a meager effort to rectify my earlier statement, I blurted out, "Well, I suppose I would prefer my boyfriend to be neat than a slob." When he looked up at me with his eyebrows knitted together it occurred to me what I had said. "Uh, not that you are my boyfriend…or would be… or want to be… I mean just that if I had to choose between one or the other I'd pick the other…" He chuckled, shaking his head.
"I don't know what the hell I'm saying right now." He nodded, smiling. The mood lightened as he rose from the couch, opening his desk drawer to pull out a cigarette. He offered me one, and I took it gratefully as we went through the sliding glass door to the wide outside balcony.
The whitewashed wood stretched all the way down the length of the house, connecting three sets of sliding glass doors, which I assumed were each of the boy's rooms. It wrapped around the side of the house that Edward's bedroom was on, ending with a long staircase that led to the patio down below. In a wider part of the balcony that jetted out in the middle sat a cushy striped covered rattan loveseat, chair and coffee table with an umbrella. I gripped my hand on the rail, peering over the edge. Below I could see a partial view of their covered patio, a chair and a huge steel barbecue grill.
Looking straight out, the view was breathtaking. I gasped, never realizing the true beauty and magnificence was beyond the home I'd lived in most of my life. I could hear the babble of the river behind their house, most of it visible from the balcony.
The landscape was speckled with tall pines and beyond that, lush green mountains with hazy clouded peaks. "Wow, this view is amazing." I wondered if Edward came out here in the morning to watch the sunrise. "Do you come out here a lot?" He was a few feet away from me, leaning his foot on the lower rung of the rail as he smoked.
"Sometimes," he shrugged. I noticed that his eyes were fixated my bare feet. I wiggled my toes, which were polished a vivid pink. Each of the big toes had bright yellow suns painted on them; my mother's idea of something to remind me of her.
"Suns?" he asked, with his eyebrow quirked.
"To remind me of home," I said softly, slightly embarrassed of how personal it was to me. "Well, to remind me of California, because I suppose this is my home now."
"You'll get used to it," he said with a nod. I assumed it was a statement that echoed his own experience. "Is that the real color of your skin?"
I looked down at the milky white inverted V shaped lines my flip-flops had left on my feet. "Yeah, I'm kind of pale. You don't like suntans?"
He shrugged. "Not really, no." I nodded, feeling awkward and momentarily unattractive.
We were quiet for a few minutes, staring out into the distance. I noticed over to the left of the house was a long glass building. "What is that, the garage?"
"No, the garage is in the front."
"The servant's quarters?" I raised an eyebrow in question.
He snickered. "We don't have servants, just a housekeeping service."
"Same thing," I snapped. "Ooh, I know…that's where Emmett keeps the dismembered bodies of his ex-girlfriends?" Edward' shoulders shook with silent laughter.
"It's your spy headquarters? I've got it…your dad has a legion of hungry vampires held captive in there?"
"Yeah right, vampires in Forks. That's original."
"Come on…tell me," I pleaded.
He rolled his eyes and took another drag. "It's an indoor swimming pool."
"You have an indoor pool? Oh, wow that's awesome!" I beamed, surprised at my own childlike excitement. He chuckled again and put his fingers to his lips.
"Shhh. Top secret. Don't tell anyone."
I nodded. "Why so covert?'
"Because Emmett has parties here from time to time and all we need is some drunken asshole to clog up the filter system with puke."
"Ahhh gottcha," I said, shuttering. "I bet you have a bowling alley in the basement too." I mused, more to myself than him.
His face turned a slight shade of red as he looked away into the distance.
"Noooo," I said in disbelief. "You have an actual bowling alley in the basement?' I screeched. "Come on…"
"It's just one lane."
"One lane? Get the hell out of here." I sounded like a total stoner.
"You bowl?" he asked, genuinely surprised.
"Hell no. Have you seen me in gym? I have no athletic ability whatsoever."
"Yeah, I have seen you in gym. You…are...a spaz. Bowling could be a definite hazard to the people around you." He laughed.
"What?" I held my hand over my heart in mock insult. "I'm not a spaz, I'm just not as vertically adept as some people." I head my head high.
"You are a full on spaz." He laughed harder, blowing out more smoke. I reached out to playfully smack his bicep, but he flinched and moved away faster than I could strike. It was almost instinctive, as if he saw it coming before it actually did.
"Wow, you have stealthy reflexes for a stoner," I remarked, leaning slowly over to the look at the part of balcony that wrapped around the house. "I wonder if you can see my bedroom from here."
Just then, Jazz bounded through the doors yelling something about me taking too goddamn long to pee and that he was starving and going to eat his feet if he didn't get food now.
#
We sat in the kitchen eating trail mix and rice cakes, which did nothing to stave off the thirst from the cotton mouth. I was craving an ice cold Sprite, but all they could find in the enormous butler's pantry was warm bottled water and lemon infused Perrier. It did the trick.
They apologized for the lack of "decent fucking snacks" while I walked repeatedly to the front window to check if Charlie's truck was gone. I told them next time we would have a munchie fest at my house because I had some really good treats over there. Once I spied Charlie's truck gone, I thanked them and left, happy but sad at the same time.
I loved both of their company and I was delighted at mine and Edward's balcony conversation, though surface as it was. I was definitely, without a doubt attracted to Edward and for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was his mysterious brooding thing? Maybe it was the fact that he barely knew I was alive in school? Maybe it was that I really enjoyed a challenge?
That's so not me though.
After finishing my homework, I ate a wholesome dinner of a peanut butter and banana sandwich, and checked my email. And then, I hit the bed.
Dear God,
Please bless and feed all of the starving children in Somalia and give the homeless people a warm place to sleep. Please watch over my family and my friends and keep Charlie safe on his case. Thank you for keeping me relatively accident free for the last few days, and I would appreciate the same for the next few as well. Also, thank you for today with Edward. I hope that there will be more days like this one even if I don't know why I like him. I like him, right?
Amen.
At ten, I shut the light and lay in the darkness for a long while. I thought about Edward's eyes and the way they were so stunningly gray today, and his mouth, the way his lips moved when he laughed.
He was so beautiful and intriguing, but there was definitely something off about him that I couldn't quite put my hands on.
Yet, I feel asleep thinking about his hands on me.