A/N: I don't really like this chapter, but I feel bad for not being able to answer the age question. It's in here, though.
Bella is eighteen, though. Some people were concerned about that, they had a relationship previous to her being eighteen, but at the moment everything's legal. Her father's a cop ya know.
"Have you held any other previous jobs?" Mr. Uley asked.
"Yes, I worked at Newton's Outfitters for about a year."
"Good, so you've interacted with customers before. You're available any time after two thirty, right?"
"Yes, Mr. Uley." My mouth felt strange saying his name that way.
I'd known Sam Uley for years. He was close to best friends with my father, and he had been at nearly every family picnic with his wife. But we weren't really acquainted, and I think he felt just as awkward about this whole thing as I did.
"Alright. Sounds good, then. The starting pay is seven dollars an hour and you get to keep whatever tips you get. It's under the table, too."
Yes!
"Thank you, Mr. Uley."
"Sam, Bella. Just call me Sam," he smiled sadly. "I guess Edward will show you the ropes, then. Just watch him for the night. You can't work at the bar, obviously, but you can waitress and bus tables. Just trade schedules with one of the other waitresses."
Sam stood up and shook my hand. Then he walked me into the kitchen where Edward was talking to one of the cooks, waiting for me. Sam smiled and gave him the thumbs up, letting him know I was hired.
Edward smiled and thanked Sam before handing me one of the uniform waist aprons and walking me out to the counter.
I wondered how working at the diner felt for Edward. I also wondered if Sam told my dad anything about him, keeping an eye on his daughter's boyfriend. Edward worked hard, though; harder than anyone I'd ever known, and Sam couldn't fire him even if he wanted to for that.
I glanced over at the bar and looked down at the floor while I thought of how my dad used to come here all the time. After an almost-altercation with Edward… he stopped coming.
"Hey," Edward murmured. "Chin up."
I lifted my head and he smiled reassuringly, like he always did when I was thinking about something that upset me. I smiled back as he showed me the basic utilities of the coffee maker, soda dispenser and hot chocolate machine.
"This place is known for the hot chocolate," Edward said, making me a cup. "But there's nothing to it, really. Just don't make it too hot and add cream instead of milk. When getting soda for someone, don't put too much ice in it. Most places do that to cut down on costs, but we get it cheap and it keeps people coming back if they get an abundance—and the more business, the better."
"Got it," I nodded.
"Think you can handle a customer?"
"What?" I gasped. "Really?"
"Uh-huh. Two teenagers shouldn't be too difficult." He nodded his head in the direction of a table and grabbed a pad of paper and a pen.
"I won't let you down, then," I promised.
"You never do."
I made my way onto the floor and spotted the table he was talking about. My mouth went dry and I stumbled a little as I made my way closer. The only thing I could see was the platinum blonde head glaring at me from the setting sun.
Jessica saw me before Lauren did and her eyebrows pulled together. "Oh. My. God," I heard her mutter.
Lauren turned her head to the right and her eyes went wide before she grinned maliciously. God damn my luck.
"Can I take your orders?" I asked in my friendliest tone. These bitches could do it and so could I.
"Yeah, waitress girl," Lauren snickered. "Two Cokes and cut back on the ice. Chop chop."
I wrote that down on the pad, underlining minimum ice. "Anything else?"
Jessica piped up this time. "A garden burger with three pickles on it. Last time they gave me four and even numbers are bad luck." Her nose wrinkled. "I want my fries separate with ranch dressing—low fat."
I scribbled the orders down and made sure it was legible before glancing at Lauren. "Listen up, waitress girl. I want three quarters of the fish special sautéed in lemon juice and four mushrooms with nine carrot sticks. I don't want any fries with that, got it?"
"Would you like the salad that comes with the fish?" I asked, remembering all the side dishes that came with each meal.
"Oh my God, did you listen to anything I just said? No. I don't want a fucking salad," she sneered. "I should totally have a talk with your manager."
"Is there a problem?" I turned my head sharply to where Edward was now standing at my side. He was was impatient with an underlying rude tone to it, but they probably couldn't tell. Besides, If I knew Jessica and Lauren…
"Oh my God."
"Wow…"
...they'd be fawning over his looks, and not his tone of voice.
"Well, is there?"
"What?" Lauren asked, her eyes on his arms now.
"Is there a problem?" Edward asked again. This time the impatience was the only thing in his tone.
"No," Jessica sighed.
Lauren shook her head. "Wait, yeah—there's a problem. Waitress girl here tried to push a salad on me when I didn't want it."
"It's common custom for waiters and waitresses to ask the customers if they'd like the free side dishes."
"Huh," Lauren mumbled.
"Are you done ordering?" Edward asked and grabbed the menus from the table.
"Mmhmm," they both answered. What the hell? Don't stare at him like that!
I turned away and Edward followed after me until we were behind the counter. I hung the slip where the cook could see it and grabbed two glasses.
"You know them?" Edward asked.
"Kind of," I answered, focusing on not putting too much ice in.
"School?"
"Yeah."
"Were they the ones who…"
"Wrote in my book? Yeah, it was them. But don't worry about it, they're the least of my worries." I waved it off and started to fill the glasses with Coke.
Edward's arms wrapped around my waist briefly as he kissed the back of my head like he always did when I needed to be reassured. "I love you,"
"Love you, too," I whispered.
I grabbed the glasses and smiled up at Edward. When I reached their table I put the glasses on the table and smiled as best I could. Jessica grabbed her drink and nearly chugged it while Lauren methodically unwrapped her straw.
"Who's that guy?" she asked.
"Edward." Try and mess him with, bitch. I don't think I'll be able to restrain myself from ripping your eyelids off.
I walked away before she could say anything; I didn't think I could handle her making comments about him, no matter how minuscule. Even if everyone did know I was living with him, they didn't know anything else about him and I preferred to keep it that way.
--
By the end of the night I was exhausted in more ways than one. Lauren stayed around until closing, without Jessica. Edward went to work at the bar, where she couldn't get to him, and I dealt with her for the rest of the night. It was worth the punches to my self-esteem if it meant that she couldn't get her little paws on him.
I had three other customers besides Lauren—who didn't even leave a tip—but I managed not to screw any of the orders up. Edward was right, though. The tips here were sometimes more than the meals, and truckers stopped in for coffee and pie constantly.
By the end of the night we compiled both of our tips together, estimating seventy three dollars. It went into the top of Edward's dresser, under his socks, with the other tips from the week. He'd cash his paycheck in the morning and we'd probably go grocery shopping after his classes were over.
"How'd your first night of work go?" Edward asked while slipping off his shirt and tossing it into the hamper.
"Alright, I think I've got the hang of it," I said, tucking my shoes near the nightstand.
"And those girls?" There we go, right to the point.
"Just some people from school, Edward." I pulled my shirt over my head. "Promise,"
"I don't like them."
"Join the club."
He moved across the room and pulled out one of his high school track shirts and a pair of boxers. "You up for a shower?"
"Of course," I answered quickly and tugged his hand into the small bathroom.
Most couples who showered together usually did it because the end result was some amazing slippery sex, but it was really convenience for us. The utilities were most of the rent and we did anything we could do to cut them down. Needless to say, I didn't really mind cutting down on the water bill.
Edward switched on the fan and I turned on the shower nozzle so that a hot spray came down. Clothes were stripped into the hamper crammed behind the door and we jumped into the spray.
A loud sigh left my throat as the hot water unknotted my shoulders and back. Edward was right behind me closing the shower curtain, concealing us in our little relaxed sanctuary.
I let the water run over my face and chest while Edward grabbed the shampoo from the side of the tub and began to pour it in his hands to lather it up. As soon as his fingers touched my scalp I turned to jelly. My whole body collapsed against his and we both sighed.
His gentle fingers glided over my body, lathering and rubbing circles around my skin. He could be a masseuse and make millions.
Ten minutes later I was hot and bothered, but we were both squeaky clean. When we got out of the shower his hands were all over me, everywhere at once. In my head I tried to think about when the last time we made love was. It had been right before my last period, so... three weeks.
I turned and threw my arms around his neck, crashing my lips to his and forcing the air out of my lungs in the process. One of his hands held onto the back of my neck while the other was on my hip.
I gasped when I felt him on my stomach. "Edward..."
"I don't think I can wait," he mumbled, almost ashamed.
"Me either," I assured him and moved us backwards—wet and naked—to the bed.
His hands turned gentle and worshipful when I pulled him down. If there was one thing that was sure, bountiful and everlasting about Edward and me, it was our passion, our absolute and complete love. It was unfounded and unparalleled, but it was really that… insanely scary desperation and need that kept us bound together no matter what.
It was sad that we had ended up here, knowing that if a few things had been different we wouldn't have to scrounge cash together or be on the bad end of gossip.
It shouldn't have mattered how old we were, nothing was illegal—now, anyway—or the fact that I was a senior in high school and he was going onto his fourth year of college in a few months. It shouldn't matter that he was five years older than I was or that we were living together.
But taking a step back reveals a lot that those involved can't see. Even though I knew I loved Edward more than life, and that he had sacrificed so much to take care of me, the fact was that people didn't care how much we loved each other; they cared about the fact that we were living in sin and that I 'ran away from home' for a boy.
"Stop," Edward murmured. I looked back at where he was making out with my bellybutton; his eyes were looking up at me. "Still gonna tell me there's nothing wrong?"
"I'm sorry," I sighed. "Today's Renee's birthday and I feel… guilty."
He moved up my body so his chest was flush with mine. "Call her."
I groaned and closed my eyes. "It's not that simple. Renee takes everything personally, and I know that if I did call all she'd do is try to convince me to go back and live with my dad."
"She can't make you do anything; she's in Florida, Bella."
"I know that… but when I moved out of my dad's house she took it like I was leaving her. Remember the last time I spoke with her?"
His eyes glazed for minute and he ducked his head into the crook of my neck. "Crying Bella ruins the mood."
I laughed and ran my hands down his broad back. "Maybe I'll send her a card or something, let her know I care at least."
"Moms like cards. I write Esme twice a month." His index finger danced around my areola. "She asked about you," he whispered.
"Really?" I nearly gasped.
"Yeah, she wondered how you were doing… since you moved in and all. Maybe she should call your dad, try and explain or something."
"No," I murmured. "No, it's just better not to even get Charlie involved with this anymore."
"Ugh! No more talk about parents, we're both naked and in a bed for Christ's sake." He sat up and kneeled in front of me. "Legs spread."
"Why?" I asked, but spread them anyway.
He climbed over my body and reached in the nightstand drawer for a little bottle of oil and a condom.
"You don't need that," I said, but he just smiled and poured a generous amount into his palm.
"Bella, have you ever heard of a vaginal massage?"
Why, no Edward, I have not.
A/N: Once again, any questions you have I'd love to answer. I've gotten some really inquisitive thoughts and questions that make even me think, and I'm the one who knows the ending.
Don't forget to review!