Disclaimer: As much as we'd like to claim these characters, nothing Twilight-related belongs to us.
A/N: Okay. Ahem. *Coughs awkwardly*. To those of you... who wish... to... well, take a disliking to Turning Eighteen: there is no need to tell us that you hate us and that you think it's bad. If such is the case, stop reading. "And that's all I have to say about that." (Forrest Gump).
GOOD NEWS! For those of you who don't know about Twilighted, it's a site where they upload the most "All-Inclusive, High Quality Twilight Fanfiction." Well, guess which writing team just got their story posted on that site! Yes, my friends, you have guessed correctly. What He Would Have Wanted is now up on Twilighted dot net, with none other than the legendary "Boycotts and Barflies" author, vjgm as out beta! This is a great step for cALLIEfornia BENches, as well as WHWHW and TE. :) Go check it out. Link's on our profile.
SORRY! It's my (Allie's) fault this is so late. I've had an insane week slash weekend. Sorry, sorry, sorry! Oh, and to all those who sent a letter to my parents—I hope you all got my PM. It would have been impossible for me to send it to you all. I did send it to those who replied with an email, but I apologize greatly to those who didn't get it. :(
BEN's A/N: Whoopie: THE NEW CHAPTER! Thanks for the amazing amount of reviews you guys chose to bestow upon us! It means so much that we already have around 50 reviews and we're technically only 2 chapters in… Soon, this story will surpass the story preceding it! WOW: This is like the child I've always loved. Lol
Turning Eighteen
By cALLIEfornia BENches
Chapter 3: Whatever it Takes
"Who was Crispus Attucks?"
I hesitated, thinking a moment. Of course I knew the answer immediately, but I wanted to play with her for a while. "Uhm... the, uh, first person to die in the... American Revolutionary War?"
She nodded. "What event was he killed in?"
"Boston... Tea Party?" I knew it was wrong, but I just loved the little crease she got between her eyebrows when she frowned at me. But this time, she didn't frown. She glared. Even better. I always thought it was sexy when she got angry at me.
"What?" I asked innocently.
"You know exactly what," she said as she started flipping through pages, looking for another question to quiz me on. Her hair was back in a ponytail today, to which I frowned upon. I had a thing for long hair. But at the same time, I mused as she pushed a loose piece of hair behind her ear; I loved those little strands almost as much. It was far too tempting not to take one and twist it around my fingers, though. I never had understood before when people said they wanted to run their hands through people's hair until now. I ended up with my hands balled into fists underneath the desk to keep myself from reaching out just to feel if her hair was as soft as it looked.
"Don't play dumb. You know the right answer," she said.
"I don't believe I know what you mean." My fingers clenched tighter as she shook her hair from her face to look down at the book.
She sighed and moved to close the book. "If you don't want to cooperate, I don't want to waste my time." She stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulder. If I hadn't been so shocked, I would have stopped her sooner. I didn't think she would actually leave. I was just messing around because I wanted her around.
"Wait," I said as she passed my chair, I found my arm shooting out and grabbing her hand. She froze immediately and glanced over her shoulder at me. "Boston Massacre." She cocked an eyebrow at me. "Please don't go," I whispered so faintly I almost didn't even hear myself.
Her face softened and she sat down in the chair next to me, reopening the book. I smiled impishly, guilty that I had been caught. "You ready to focus?" she asked. I nodded eagerly, sitting up straighter and bending over the book, partially because it made me look like I was reading, but mostly because it put me closer to her. "Fine," she said. "What was the irony of Cripus's death?"
I scooted my chair closer to her slightly and looked up at her through my eyelashes. "He was fighting for freedom even though he was a slave." I stared at her in what I could only think as a seductive glance.
She smiled, missing the double meaning in my words. I smiled back, a bit thankful she had missed it. "Good," she said.
My shoulders relaxed ever so slightly as I exhaled a large huff of breath from my lungs. This girl didn't know what she was doing to me. Even her smile was making me shaky. I had to act fast if I was going to play it cool.
"Do I get a kiss?" I had made my feelings toward her clear two weeks ago after I all but humiliated myself in front of the class. She, unfortunately, had been nothing but resistant. When I had asked her why, she simply replied that she wasn't a slut. And even though I took slight offense, her feelings were understandable. She had seen me as nothing but a man whore my first week or so here.
I still hoped my weak prodding at her defenses would benefit me in the end.
"No," she replied simply, slamming her book shut and standing up so fiercely her chair fell down behind her. "I thought you said you were going to focus!" she whisper-yelled, so as not to disturb the others in the library. It didn't help much, as curious stares met with her hushed seething; I could have sworn I heard the librarian shush us.
I shrugged and gave her an innocent look. "You make it hard for me to concentrate."
"Why don't you just start learning and stop being such a jackass?" she spat, "You say you wanted help but you don't seem to want to stay on track." With that, she turned to leave.
"Why are you so uptight?" I asked, following after her. I should have let her leave, but she was like the flame to my moth. "You're always angry at me for some reason or another. I don't even know what I do wrong half the time!" I said, throwing my hands up into the air. "Live a little." I was slightly getting a little irritated. Couldn't she take a joke? Or better yet, couldn't she realize that I liked her so much that it wasn't even a joke anymore?
She stopped abruptly and spun back towards me. "How about you learn a little?"
I folded my arms across my chest. "I'm a good student."
She cocked an eyebrow and gave a sarcastic laugh. "Really? Because it doesn't show."
"I'll make you a deal," I said, glaring at her. "You get a better grade than me on the test next Thursday, and I'll leave you alone. I'll get another tutor, I'll stop talking to you; whatever you'd like." I failed to stop myself, and failed even more by not shouting out 'just kidding.'
Her eyes narrowed. "What's the catch?"
"If I win," I said as I took a step closer, "You go out with me."
With my step forward, she took a step back. Her eyes widened briefly before they stubbornly narrowed. "You're on." She straightened herself and stared at me with enough intensity to send me back the step from whence I came.
I smiled, holding back as much of the smugness as I could. "Can we please go back to studying now? I want to get as much studying done as possible if I'm going to beat you."
She grudgingly threw down her set of books, glared at my cocky expression once more, and sat down.
"What year was the Boston Massacre?"
We ended up reviewing for about another hour and a half. Studying was over quite quickly, considering I reveled in simply staring at Isa every once in a while for moments of a guilty pleasure. On my way out, I tried with all my might and self-control not to hug her tightly and kiss her. My only solace was that I could quite possibly do that once I beat her at the test and we ventured onto our date.
I hurriedly rushed home, going much too over the speed limit than usual, and quickly took to the books; I needed to study for the test next week.
I will go out with you, Isa Swanson, I promise you. I was determined with every once of energy in my body.
I shook myself out of my blank stupor and set to the long line of work I would be living off of for the rest of the week.
Test Day.
Why was I so nervous?
I was incredibly jittery when Test Day rolled around on Tuesday. I was on the verge of biting my nails until they were raw, and my legs continued to tap in earnest whilst I sat down, ready to take the test. I was positively on edge. I just needed to get this over with.
There was really not one moment of my free time which I didn't study: right before I went to bed, during dinner, during lunch, in my dreams, and even one time on my way to the bathroom. I had reviewed so much that it was stupid to be so incredibly frazzled. I was sure I was going to do well today. Hell, I was probably going to receive a 100 percent with the amount of American History swimming through my brain. But why was I so nervous? I'm never usually this nervous for anything, let alone a measly test. I felt the need to dishevel my already messy hair even more.
The reason was easy. I could have been made of gold, and had the credentials that made Bill Gates jealous, but none of that would matter in my mission to woo Isa Swanson, the one girl I was remotely crazy about… ever. And in all actuality, the only thing that stood between myself and a date was this test. And if I could guess Isa, which I did (numerous times), she probably studied just as much as I did. I could get 100 percent on this test and it wouldn't matter… she might get better. And perhaps would.
She's so smart, I drooled.
I quickly snapped myself out of the trance I had been placed in and looked around until I saw the teacher stride into the classroom, with a bundle of papers, neatly stacked, in his arms. The parchment begged to be written upon.
I could do this. I'm Masen Edwards. I have a 4.0. This would be a piece of cake.
It didn't sound convincing enough.
I gulped. I had never studied so hard in my life. It was almost laughable how much time I spent with my nose pressed into a textbook during the last week. My eyes hurt from the lack of sunlight (mostly cloud cover) and my back hurt from leaning into my books so often. I rubbed my eyes with the soft part of my sweaty palms and tried to yawn the sleep away. I really should not have gone to sleep so late.
A slight cough took me from my thoughts and caught my guard, and I turned around, only to meet the smug expression of Isa, peering over at me with her thick lashes and a seductive smile.
"Good luck, Masen. May the smartest win," she crooned, and I moaned internally at the melody of her voice. Did she really have to be so perfect all the time? Part of me wanted to knock her off her pedestal she stood so high above before this test. The other part wanted to get on my knees and bow low. She winked, probably to psyche me out; I'm pretty sure it worked.
I turned around to find the paper of the test already out on my desk. With a huge sigh, I grabbed my pencil, ready to begin. It was now or never. I can do this, I can do this...
"You have an hour, class. Good luck."
I quickly placed my pencil on the paper, and started writing furiously.
The questions came easy and I technically finished within the first half hour, but I spent the rest of the time going over and over the test, making sure absolutely everything was correct. I added extra sentences to the short answer, making them positively longer and more informational. I must have added very minor details to every fact. Once I was sure that I had explained everything thoroughly and gotten every answer that I could, I walked shakily to Mr. Lucas' desk, my eyes zooming rapidly over the paper.
Did I have my name at the top? It turns out I did.
There were three minutes left to spare, and Isa hadn't turned her paper in yet. I was nervously tapping my fingers against the desk. She looked at ease and relaxed; a born professional.
The bell rang, and Isa quickly went up to turn her test in.
I picked my things up and, as I passed her on the way out, smiled at her. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven," I said with a wink, trying to look confident. Really, I was more nervous than I had ever been, and the butterflies in my stomach were gnawing at my insides.
I briefly waited for a response. A retort, even? But there was nothing but a sly grin plastered upon her beautiful, heart-shaped face. I blew out a breath I didn't know I was holding in and moved my feet.
Just as I approached the door, Mr. Lucas called out to me. "Masen. Can you stay here a sec?" I nodded and went over to his desk, where Isa was already standing. He looked up at both of us. "Here's what I'm going to do. Because I was the one to set this tutoring session up, I want to be the one to make sure it's still working. So I'm going to correct both of your tests right now. Can you guys stay about fifteen more minutes?"
I nodded. I had no where to go. Isa was nodding, too, I noticed as I stole a glance over at her perfect face.
We went back to our desks and sat down again. The class was eerily quiet now, with everyone having left and the only sound being Mr. Lucas's red pen scratching on our papers. I was slightly nervous about the amount of 'scratching' there was. The minutes ticked by slowly as we waited for him to finish. Isa's leg was shaking up and down against the floor, and her head was resting in her hand. She looked just as nervous as I felt.
Those darn butterflies were going to make me sick. I peeked over my shoulder to where she sat, only to find a pair of chocolate eyes peer over, meet mine, and quickly divert the gaze.
But just as I opened my mouth to say something, Mr. Lucas called Isa up to his desk. With a wary glance at me, she went up to the front where he handed her the test. My teeth were positively chattering and I felt the need to swallow some swords so those damn butterflies would cease to fly carelessly about.
"Nicely done, Ms. Swanson," he said.
A coy smile stretched over her lips as she turned back to me and held up her paper. I saw a big red "98" at the top of her paper. A frustrated sigh escaped me. How was I supposed to beat that? That was nearly perfect. My chances of getting better than that were one fiftieth. Two percent. I had to get pretty much perfect.
I found myself biting my lip in anxiety.
She made her way over to me and made a show of setting her test down in front of me dramatically, acting extremely haughty before she went to gather her stuff up. I was going to lose this, I was sure of it. There was no way I was going to get better than that. I thought I was confident in my answers, but it was just the opposite. I buried my face into my hands. I wasn't going to get this. All of my hard work, all of the time I spent studying... I wasn't going to get this date.
A week wasted for nothing.
"Masen," Mr. Lucas called. Time to face the truth.
The walk up there felt like the walk of shame. My head was down, and what was probably a boyish pout was set upon my lips. With every step I took, I felt like my sneakers were laughing at me.
You.
Lose.
You.
Lose.
I was going to make a fool of myself in front of the prettiest girl in school.
I let out a deep sigh as I got to his desk. He held out the test to me with a grim look on his face.
Oh, no.
I didn't even bother looking at it. I had failed. I didn't need the haunting red numbers to tell me that. I drug the test over to my desk as if it weighed a million pounds and set it on the table, gathering my stuff together in defeat.
She had won, and I was never going on that date. There goes the perfect date I had been planning as much as I had been studying. No being able to watch her smile. No holding her hand or opening her door in proud triumph. No death glares I would have the opportunity to shoot at other men who were checking out my date. No kiss. And certainly no future girlfriend.
I was about ready to cry right then and there.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isa walk over toward where my desk was, a joyous smile upon her ethereal lips (lips I would never kiss). She looked at my test, and then up at me, a look of shock prominent on her face. I'd look like that, too, had I seen that horrifying of a grade after spending my time tutoring someone.
She gathered her things, with the beautiful sneer no longer there, and walked up to me. I prepared myself for the worst; perhaps she would only yell at me minimally. Maybe I wouldn't get scolded for not studying or being serious about this test.
If she only knew…
She cleared her throat. "So...," she said, "You'll pick me up tomorrow at seven?" she asked.
Wait, what?
I snatched the test from her hands and stared at it.
99.
My mouth dropped and I blinked a few times, thinking I was imagining it. I looked up at Isa, who was smiling with pride, despite her defeat. I looked back down to my paper. Sure enough, it still said '99'.
I looked over at Mr. Lucas then, who was smiling at me as well. "Good work, Masen. I love watching students make such a large comeback. It means a lot to me as a teacher."
"Nice job, kid. You earned it," Isa said. "Tomorrow at seven. Don't be late." She winked at me and left the room with a small wave to Mr. Lucas.
I won. I kept telling myself that same sentence over and over, hoping it would stick. If this was some dream, I wanted no one in the world to ever pinch me out of it.
I nodded, even though she would be too far away to see. Like I'd ever be late to picking her up on a date. She'd be lucky if I didn't show up an hour early just out of excitement. If I wasn't so awestruck right now, I'd probably be running off to start getting ready now. There would be no time to waste. I had a date to plan, and only a bit over 24 hours to do it.
"Thanks Mr. Lucas!" I shouted as I sprinted out of the classroom and to my car. This would be the best date ever.
The Date
My heart was beating so hard I was sure she'd be able to see it when she answered the door. Hell, my heart could probably do the knocking for me. I took a deep breath and tugged awkwardly on my polo. I was uncomfortable in nice clothes like this—I was used to wearing a t-shirt and shorts, perhaps a dress shirt once in a while. But tonight, I went to the mall and picked out what I thought was the most expensive and sleekest shirt, followed by nice black jeans. I even tried to tame my wild hair, but to no avail. I had found some nice smelling cologne in one of my boxes, too. That was, of course, after I tried countless others that were disgusting and putrid, causing me to take at least three showers. But it didn't matter. I'd do it for Isa. I do anything for Isa.
I raised my hand to knock on the door, but lowered it immediately. What if she wasn't ready? I glanced at my watch. I was one minute early. Maybe I should just wait. She probably wouldn't be ready yet. Or maybe she forgot about it, and hadn't even started to get ready. What if she came to the door in sweats? Well, in that case, I'd stay in with her and we'd watch movies. Or maybe she was kidding when she said to pick her up at seven. Maybe I should have called her to make sure she was serious. What if this was all some cruel joke?
Why, then, I thought, Then I'd have to move back to Cali.
Well, better to find out soon than later, I guess. I moved to knock again, but before I could it opened anyway.
And there was Isa. And all the sudden I couldn't breathe. She was clad in a light, short-sleeved black dress. It wasn't too short, but it wasn't too long, either. It wasn't formal, per se, but it definitely wasn't casual. It was about as formal as I was. It was very flattering, not that she needed to be flattered. But it clung to her in the right places and accentuated all the right features. Her hair was curled into soft ringlets that fell past her shoulders and screamed at me to wrap my fingers around them. I took a glance at her face, and was immediately pulled out of my trance. She was smirking.
"What?" I asked. Did she not like what I was wearing? Should I crawl into a cave now?
"Were you ever going to knock?" Shit. Snagged. "I sat here watching you for the past five minutes. I was beginning to think you were going to leave."
I glanced down at my feet, embarrassed. I could feel my face reddening. "Sorry," I mumbled. "You still want to go?"
I looked back up at her. She cocked an eyebrow. "You think taking forever to knock would make me not want to go on a date with you?"
"Well, when you put it like that...."
"Come on, Loverboy. Let's get going," she said as she brushed past me toward my car. I sat there, awestruck for a moment. All she had said was "Loverboy," and I was freaking out over the fact that the word "love" had come out of her mouth… and how much I had enjoyed hearing her say that. I wanted those words to come out of her mouth again, and I wanted them to be to me.
Get a grip.
Shaking my head, I snapped myself out of it. I needed to focus. With a new set of determination, I set off toward my car, where Isa was waiting. Strike One: You didn't walk her to your car. I quickly hurried to her side, unlocked the car, and opened the door for her. She thanked me with a smile before ducking into my car.
I hurriedly made my way to the driver seat and examined the inside of my car sneakily. I hoped there wasn't anything incredibly embarrassing still lingering in the car which I made an effort to clean last night. I glanced precariously; no dirty shirts, secrets of any kind I wasn't willing to share, etc. Good.
I revved up the engine, glanced toward the street, and set off into the road.
I had decided to take her to Alki Beach . Thanks to Google, I got the impression that it was the best place for a first date. I had the stuff for a picnic in the trunk, and I figured it would be romantic if we could have dinner and watch the sunset before I took her home. I would have to get her home early in order to make a good impression on her parents if I were to keep this going. I would have to get them to like me and trust me.
The ride was silent, but comfortable. I didn't want to get to talking yet. I wanted to save something for while we were at the beach. I couldn't get this stupid grin off my face. I was actually going out with Isa Swanson. After all the trouble I had gone to in order to get to this very moment, it was finally here. And I was going to enjoy it, damn it.
We pulled into a spot and I hurried to her door before she could get out, opening it for her.
"Such a gentleman," she said. She looked around. "Alki? Why here?"
I smiled as I closed the door and opened the trunk. "I thought we'd have a picnic. Maybe a little campfire and a sunset." Grabbing, the basket from the back, I shut the trunk and looked at her. She was facing the beach, the small gusts of wind tossing her hair back over her shoulder.
I came up behind her, and the wind blew lightly once more. Her scent was blown straight through my nose. My eyes closed and I instinctively leaned closer to it. But she chose just then to turn around, bringing us face to face, closer than I think either of us were comfortable with this early.
I took a step back and coughed nervously. "Sorry," I muttered.
"No worries," she said as she headed towards the sand.
We walked next to each other along the beach, not touching, but so close that I probably could have reached out to her if I wanted. But I was too afraid. I didn't know what she would have wanted. Would she be repulsed by me? Would she shrug it off? I didn't want to take any chances with it. So I pretended my arms were full with all the gear.
A ways away, I set the blanket down and motioned for her to sit. I had packed sandwiches for both of us. I didn't know which she'd prefer, so I made seven: turkey, ham, roast beef, chicken, PB&J, just peanut butter, and a veggie one. She ended up choosing the veggie one. Dinner was more or less uneventful. We kept small conversation flowing, but I couldn't help but feel like it was just an awkward first date.
When we had both finished, I suggested a walk on the beach to these logs a bit farther down that were great for sitting and watching the sunset. She readily agreed.
We had only been walking a short while when she tripped over the sand and started falling forward. I caught her just before she fell. She smiled up at me and blushed.
"Sorry."
I chuckled. "It's no problem." I stood her upright and kept a hold on her hand. She glanced down at our intertwined hands, and back up to me. I shrugged. "Just in case you fall over again," I explained. "It'll be easier to catch you if I already have a hold on you."
She smiled. "Okay."
We walked, hand in hand, until we got there. We sat down next to each other and watched the sun disappear behind the Cascades. I wanted so badly to reach over and wrap my arms around her or hold her hand, but I didn't. I felt like an idiot just sitting there with her.
She shivered, and I automatically moved closer to her and wrapped my arms around hers, warming them up with friction. Whether involuntary or not, she moved closer to me to share body heat. "You cold?" I asked unnecessarily. Of course she was cold. And of course I was enjoying every minute of it.
She nodded. "It's fine, though," she said. "You're pretty warm." A pretty blush colored her cheeks as she said this. Immediately, a huge grin splayed all over my face.
Apparently I was warm!
"You want me to make a fire?" I asked.
"That'd be nice," she said. I moved to get some of the old newspaper and matches from the basket I had brought along, and as soon as I separated from her, she whimpered.
I glanced back at her. "What?"
"Cold," she said, her teeth chattering.
"This'll just take a second, I promise."
"Hurry."
I brusquely placed all the firewood so it made a teepee-like shape, stuffed some newspapers in and around it, and lit it on fire. Luck must have been on our side, because it lit quicker than it usually does and started burning into a larger, taller fire that was already emanating a large amount of heat. As soon as that was done, I rushed back to her side, grateful for an excuse to be close to her. I wrapped my arm around her waist again and she laid her cheek against my chest.
Internally, I was jumping for joy. This was better than I ever could have hoped for. Maybe, just maybe, the way this was going, she'd let me kiss her by the end of the night. That would be ideal. And my new goal for the night.
"So, Isa. Tell me about yourself."
"What do you want to know?"
I shrugged. "Everything." I glanced warily at her to see if that was maybe too forward. She seemed fine with it. The fire was reflected off her eyes as she stared at it tiredly. She looked as though she would fall asleep if I didn't keep talking to her. "Start from the beginning. Your parents, what you were like as a child, everything."
She took a deep breath before she started, "Well, I was born and raised in Seattle . I've lived in the same house for all seventeen years of my life. It's really not that exciting, living here. Sure, there's the Space Needle. But to be honest, as many years as I've lived here, I've never been on it. It all seems too touristy to me."
"Hmm," I said as I started rubbing her arm slowly up and down to warm it up. I should have thought to bring a sweatshirt, if only for her. The only thing I had was the blanket that we had been sitting on for the picnic. Keeping my arm around her, I reached out to the basket and pulled it out, wrapping it around her. It swallowed her whole, it was so big, but at least she would be warm.
"Aren't you going to get cold?"
I shrugged. The truth was that I was freezing. But I didn't want her to feel bad and in turn end up being just as cold as me. At least one of us should be warm.
"Here," she said as she unwrapped part of the blanket from around her and put it over my shoulders. "Take some. It's freezing."
"No, no," I said as I gave it back to her. "Then you'll be colder. Don't worry about it. I don't want you to get a cold."
She scowled. "You can't get a cold from the cold," she said. "I saw it on the news once. I'll be fine. Just take some so I don't worry about you freezing to death."
I sighed dramatically. "Fine, but I won't like it," I said with a smile as I pulled the blanket closer to me and around so it could reach her, too. Now both of us were encased together in the giant of a blanket. "Continue," I said. "I want to hear everything about you."
"Okay," she said as she cuddled closer to me. I had to bite my lip to hold in the smile. "I'm an only child. I was going to be a big sister, but my mom had a miscarriage when I was four. From there, my parents' relationship spiraled downward. I don't remember much since I was so young, but I do remember that they fought a lot. My mom blamed my dad for the miscarriage, and vice versa. So they split when I was five. It was pretty mutual, and they're still on okay terms. My mom doesn't live far away—just in Portland . I live with my dad, Joey."
My heart felt for her. What a horrible way to split. "I'm so sorry, Isa," I said with a reassuring squeeze around her waist. I wanted to convey to her that I was here without actually saying it. I didn't know how she'd react to that, so early in our relationship.
"It's no big deal. I was too young for it to seriously affect me. Tell me about you; what were you like as a child?"
I smiled at her easy change of subject. "I'm even less fascinating. My father, Peter, has been married to my mom, Ellie, for years and years. They were childhood sweethearts. I'm an only child as well, and we lived in Southern California until we just moved. Not all in one house—we moved around some—but they always made sure I stayed at the same school. We moved up here because both my parents got promotions. And that's pretty much it."
She was silent a minute before she said anything. "So... pardon me if I'm overstepping my boundaries, but just out of curiosity, how many girlfriends have you had?"
I chuckled. Of course she would ask this. "None serious. I've never brought any home. But I've had my share of girls I was interested in." None as much as you, though, I silently added in my mind.
She seemed to mull this over for a while. "Tell me more about you," she said, finally. "I gave you my whole life story. At least give me some more than that."
"Let's see," I said. How could I play this up to my advantage? "I love walks on the beach, holding hands...," I said, trying to be romantic.
"Oh, cut the crap," she said with a short laugh. "I don't want to hear what you think I want to hear. I want to hear about you. That's why I asked in the first place. Why don't you just be yourself?"
"You make me nervous," I spat before I had a chance to think. Immediately, I wished the world would swallow me whole.
"Why?" she asked. "You should be used to the female gender."
"I am," I muttered. "But I'm not used to you. You have a weird affect on me. You're not like all the other girls, as cliché as that sounds. You're different." I hesitated, debating whether I should say the next part aloud or not. "That's what I like about you." I laughed nervously, embarrassed, and started talking again before she had a chance to interject. "Fine," I said. "I love running. Always have, always will. It's a great stress reliever. Swimming has been a hobby of mine since I was little, but I never made any sport out of it aside from the occasional race with my friends.
"I love watching old movies. Not just the ones that were popular like Breakfast at Tiffany's and Casablanca. But more of the underground stuff. I'll have to show you sometime. Uhm, let's see," I said as I thought. "Concerts are my favorite thing to do on weekends. I don't even care what kind of concerts. I'm pretty flexible with my music tastes. Oh, and my guilty pleasure is hearing the sound of my voice vibrate through the humming of a fan. It makes me feel like I can roar. It's oddly calming." She laughed at this, which made me smile. "What about you? What do you like?"
"Hmm." She thought for a moment, with only the sound of our breathing, the crackle of the fire, and the crash of the waves against the shore surrounding us. "I've always liked photography and taking pictures. I, like everyone else in Seattle , have a terrible caffeine addiction."
"Ah, yes. Starbucks," I commented with a laugh. I couldn't count the number of Starbucks' that I had seen in the short amount of time I had been here. It was almost sickening, the way these people thrived on coffee.
"Uhm... I love Bath and Body Works. I could spend years in there, simply living on the smells. I've never actually bought anything, though. I'm too afraid that if I do, I'll buy the entire store. And that's bad." She laughed lightheartedly, and I joined along with her. "And I absolutely love roses."
I scoffed. "I wish you would have told me that last week," I said.
She laughed again. "What do you hate?"
"Tofu," I said immediately. "My mom's trying this new 'vegetarian' thing and made my dad and I try tofu. It was disgusting. I can't understand how vegetarians and vegans do it. It's so gross."
She was silent. "I'm a vegetarian...."
Ah, shit. "Really?"
"No," she said with a laugh. "I think tofu's gross, too. I just wanted to see your reaction. What else do you hate?"
"Seattle," I said again, without hesitation. "It's too rainy. And the people are obnoxious."
"Are you calling me obnoxious?" she said as she lifted her head from where it was still resting on my chest and looked at me, a teasing gleam in her eye. She knew I could never find her obnoxious.
"Of course not. I just assumed you knew that you were exempt from that statement."
She smiled and rested her head back where it had been. "Continue," she said.
"I hate sluts. It's like they have no dignity, you know? They just shamelessly throw themselves at the first relatively good-looking guy they come across because they're bored with their own lives."
"You, Masen Edwards, are much more than 'relatively good-looking.' It's not even fair, you know, how gorgeous you are."
I scoffed. "Please."
"No, seriously. Have you looked in a mirror lately? I don't know what you're doing out with me."
I lifted her chin up so she was looking at me. If she was going to be honest about how she felt about my looks, I would be honest about how I felt about hers. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? I'm surprised you're out here with me. You can't tell me you don't notice the amount of guys that spend their days pining after you."
She shook her head. "Please," she repeated my words as she laid her head down against my shoulder.
I sighed, frustrated. "What about you? What gets you fired up?"
"Man whores."
I raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. "Is that right?"
"Yep. I hate them. They make my blood boil," she said. "There's just something about that arrogant attitude that makes them just seem so unattractive and so unbelievably repulsive, it makes me want to slap them."
"Wow," I said. "Didn't know you felt so strongly about them." She shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "So that was why you detested me so much in the beginning?" She didn't answer, but I knew it was a yes. "And what do you think about me now? Have I proven myself at all?"
"Yes, you have. You're a good person."
I smiled. "What else do you detest?"
"Cotton balls."
I laughed. That was such a difference from her last answer. "What?"
"Or, more specifically, Q-tips." I opened my mouth to ask why, but she got to it before me. "They're terrifying. I mean seriously, it's so dangerous. All you have to do is poke once a little too hard, and all the sudden you get an ear infection which is extremely dangerous and, knowing my luck, I'd get some sort of fatal illness. All because of one little Q-tip," she said in all seriousness.
"You're absurd," I said though my laughter. "A Q-tip won't kill you."
She shook her head. "I also hate California ."
"What? Why? How? Everyone loves California ."
"Not me."
"And why not?"
She paused for a long moment. "Well... to be honest, I don't know. But you hate Seattle , which is my hometown, so I'm automatically allowed to hate your hometown. It's easy." When I looked down at her, she was smiling. I shook my head at her.
A comfortable silence fell over us then, as we watched the fire crack in front of us.
"What time is it?" she asked softly, as if afraid to break the peace.
I glanced at my watch, using the fire for light. It said it was eleven-thirty. "It's time I should be getting you home." I sighed, unhappy that this had to end. It was just getting good, too. "Do you want to keep the blanket until we get to the car?" I asked her.
She shook her head. "No, I'll be fine."
I took the blanket from around us and folded it gingerly before placing it in the basket and taking her hand. I led us quietly back to the car, opening her door for her.
The whole ride, I wanted to say something. But I didn't know how to break the silence.
Just smile at her.
No! I'm driving. I'm afraid that if I look away, I'll crash us into some tree... God! There are so many trees out here.
Focus! Just say something. Anything. Compliment her, she'll like it.
Well then. What should I compliment her on? Her eyes? Her dress? How about everything? She's just too damn beautiful!
Does it matter? Just break the silence, Masen!
In my mind, I imagined that I knew the perfect thing to say. We'd have an easy conversation, laughing a lot, smiling even more. This tense air would be gone completely, and it would just be me and her, together. I would hold her hand in mine, resting on the console. Then, in a spite of bravery, I would reach my hand over and rest it on her thigh. And she would be perfectly okay with it. And how soft her skin would be, how warm...
"Masen!" Isa shouted, now. I snapped back to reality to see that I was swerving into oncoming traffic. I quickly moved back into our lane with a muttered apology.
It was so hard to truly concentrate on the road ahead of me with the amount of electrical tension that was now surging in the car. I thanked God that I knew where the hell I was going, or else I most likely would have gotten us lost with my inattention to the drive. I could only focus on her.
She seemed very comfortable staring out the window, with her face reflected by the small amount of moonlight refracting through. A small smile, almost relaxed contentment lay upon her features; she looked to be in deep thought. Just the sight of her took my breath away.
But what to say? The forceful currents of adoration I felt toward this girl were zooming every which way inside this, what felt like extremely cramped at the moment, car. I could say she looked beautiful tonight, but I already said that. I could try and strike up some meaningful conversation, but I don't know if I could keep it up. Dinner was already filled with amazing talk.
God, I wanted to kiss her. More than anything in the world.
Silent music was playing in the background hum of the car, setting an almost fate-like ambiance upon us. She continued to stare out the window in an awed expression, like this was some kind of fantasy, some dream. I knew it was like that for me.
Our date was going off with a perfect mood to it. Never in my hopes, or in my dreams, did I believe that it could be so amazing; I was truly beginning to enjoy Seattle, with most of the factors circulating around the very girl seated mere feet away from me.
Should I ask her what the homework is for history?
Well, I guess you could. But wouldn't that be a little too filler?
I was torn between leaving the calm and electric mood as it was, but also learning more about her, perhaps finding more reasons why this is too good to be true. Was I looking for flaws? Of course not! She didn't have any...
We finally began to reach familiar roads, meaning we were very close to her house. If I needed something to say to her, I needed to say it fast. I wanted to tell her that I had a great time. I wanted another date, perhaps more than simply dates.
I wanted to be her boyfriend. So, so much.
I finally found my voice, and realized it was slightly shaky in my anticipation.
"I had a really great time tonight, Isa. I'm glad you agreed to come out tonight."
"I'm glad you won, Masen. And this has been an amazing date. It makes me happy to know I lost," she replied. My inner Masen jumped for joy and did the party boy dance.
"Umm... would you mind...," I was choking up on the words to say: being my girlfriend? Go out another time? I couldn't find my voice. "...would you mind... telling me where your house is?" I slapped myself. I was a coward. A big, freaking coward.
"Sure." Did she sound disappointed?
The rest of the ride consisted very little of me talking, and her giving me directions that I already knew. I was angry at myself, for not having the guts to ask her, and to make the whole tension so much greater. It felt like there was an elephant in the car.
Five minutes left until her house, Masen. I had to act quick if I wanted to ask her out. But I was so indecisive. Did she really like me? Was I coming on too strong? How do I ask her without seeming like some idiot?
I didn't have much time to recuperate from my questioning thoughts, as her house came into view. I parked onto her driveway, making sure I was slow, as to savor each and every last moment I would have with her tonight.
I stopped the car, and stared at her, longing to ask her those two questions I wanted so dearly answered, but so afraid of what I might not want to hear. She gathered her things gingerly, and stared at me for quite a while. It wasn't awkward; in fact, our stares felt comfortable, almost familiar in our attempts to trace each other's face with our eyes.
"Will you walk me to my door, Masen?" she whispered, taking me out of my hypnotic gaze. Of course I will! I simply nodded, afraid that if I spoke, my high-pitched victory shout might scare her off.
I opened my door, and practically ran to the other side, eager to hold her side of the door open. I grabbed her hand while she got off the car, slyly looking her up and down, and noting just how exquisite she looked tonight.
May there be many more nights to come...
Slowly, almost sloth-like, we walked to her front porch, hand in hand. My heart was thumping erratically, reminding me that I still had time to ask her what I intended to in the car. However, my throat seemed to close upon that subject. I could have talked about anything at this point; cars, books, family, her. But the category of dates and feelings could not be discussed.
"Oh. Wait, I forgot my purse in the car," Isa exclaimed, jogging over to her seat to retrieve her bag.
She slammed the door shut and eagerly walked toward me. She gave me a subtle wink.
My eyes glazed over at the sight of her in the moonlight. Her swaying hips and windswept hair from the beach. That smile. The twinkling chocolate eyes.
She looked so at ease as she continued to make her way toward me. I must have looked stupid, staring at her with half-lidded eyes, because she carelessly laughed, releasing any tension built from the car this evening. I smiled like a fool, glued to the spot she left me, waiting for her to catch up. She looks so relaxed...
That was until she tripped over her heels. Right in front of me.
In a rapid motion, the force of her body collided with me, and my arms involuntarily wrapped themselves around her to keep her from losing her footing any more than she already did. But the power of her collision into my arms sent me falling toward the ground on her driveway, with her still in my grasp.
We land on the floor with a thud, her body on top of me. She was safe from harm, but the driveway sent a slight pain through my back.
"Oh my god! Are you okay?!" she asked worriedly, all the while on top of me.
Despite the pain, I realized just the kind of position we both were in; our faces were mere inches apart. I looked straight into her eyes and goofily smiled, as did Mini Masen.
"I'm fine. Are you okay?"
She blushed, and smiled.
I suddenly found myself, through my understanding of our arrangement, beginning to wrap my arms a little tighter, subtly asking for her attention. It was either now or never. A kiss. Perhaps I could even ask her to be...
"Would you be interested in going out with me another time?" I whispered, looking intently into her brown eyes.
She nodded earnestly, and blushed.
I was internally jumping for joy.
We stayed in that position for quite some time. I reveled in her body being pressed neatly against mine, enjoying each and every curve of hers. We fit like a puzzle, I told myself.
The kiss.
I looked once again into her deep brown pools.
"Would it be alright if I kissed you?"
She chucked at my direct question.
"Aww... Masen. Did I forget to tell you?" She peered into my eyes with a piercing stare. She was mere centimeters from my face now, her sweet breath intoxicating my mind, slurring my thoughts. I was in a drunk atmosphere—a nirvana.
Just a little closer...
"I don't kiss on first dates," she whispered right before my mouth.
Gracefully, she released herself from my grip, and stood up from my frozen position upon her cold driveway. She chuckled once more.
I stood up after her and shoved my hands in my pockets, watching the ground with such an intensity, there was a good chance there'd be a hole in it in the morning. Rejected, I thought to myself.
Suddenly there was a tiny finger under my chin, lifting it up so I was looking into those brown eyes. "Hey, don't be upset," she said softly. "This was the best date I've ever been on."
"Really?" I asked.
She smiled. "Of course, silly boy." She leaned in and kissed my cheek.
"Goodnight, Masen." She waved flirtatiously, and made her way towards her door, silently closing it behind her, deserting me.
I was left standing on her porch, my back still wet and cold from the fall. I was left with a clumsy expression. I was left drunk upon her breath and figure. What a tease... But it didn't matter; tonight was perfect as perfect could be.
And she kissed me on the cheek!
I made my way over to my car. On my face was plastered a wide grin.
A/N: Just so you know, Alki Beach is a real place near Seattle . :) Ah, the benefits of actually living in the state that Twilight takes place in. Haha. Anyway, it's a really cool beach. It was Ben's idea, so thank him.
PS if you haven't already, GO TO YOUTUBE and search "Bella meets the Cullens" for an eight minute clip from the movie. I've watched it like seven times. Hahaha. :)
BEN's A/N: I really like this chapter, and I hope you did too. Thanks for reading, and, like always, review and PM. We'll send you all previews of Chapter 4. ALSO: there's a poll at the very top of our profile about the end of this story. Please vote!
Btw: Did anyone listen to the new Twilight Soundtrack? Tis very enjoyable.
IMPORTANT:
Okay. So we got a lot of new reviews of people who are confused about the transition of WHWHW to TE as well as the Epilogue of WHWHW. I can't say anything about the transition, because that is classified information and, trust me, you'll understand with time. But as for the epilogue, many of you asked if the whole entire story was simply a dream.
The answer is no. The journey Bella went through is all reality. She was in some dreamscape the entire time, but only when it said so in the plot. I can't tell you more because it connects to the transition. But HINT: check out some other characters and what happens to them; it fits with Bella and her 'state' in the epilogue.
Until Thursday ends and Friday looms ahead,
cALLIEfornia BENches