A/N: Reasons why I haven't been updating – I'm in the process of moving from the east coast to the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It's difficult to adjust to Maui after living my life in NYC.
Big thanks to SunflowerFran for staying on my ass, I heard you ma'am.
The Good and the Bad Guy – My Brightest Diamond
i am not only short-tempered and impulsive, i am idiotic. i have not more than the intelligence of a snail identical to the one slithering slowly across the parking lot pavement. i have not more than the intelligence of a rock and my head happens to be just as hard.
i left my truck perfectly parked in my driveway this morning, right after hopping into edward's volvo and dipping my greedy fingers into his big-brown-bag-of-always-freshly-baked-goods. i realize this as i storm down the steps of the school with my bare feet, my backpack hauled over my shoulder and each of my hands holding one of my sneakers. i've got no ride home, i've got far too much pride stuck inside my throat and i've got a long walk ahead of me. i pause to put my sneakers on and then begin trekking towards the black street at the end of the parking lot.
way to go, moron. i internally chastise myself for my lack of clarity. why argue with someone who's going to be driving you home later on? why argue at all? edward and i were two people on opposite ends of a very large boulevard. what could be achieved from arguing with someone from a completely different walk of life? i was being not only idiotic but unnecessary. superfluous. just plain extra.
why can't you put me aside and look at the moment for what it is? what a ridiculous thing to say. after leading a long legacy of emotionally manipulating the women and the lives around him, now he wants to be put aside and out of the picture? what a fucking joke.
the air is misty and as tired as i am as i walk along the path, hanging low in the atmosphere, creating a translucent vapor that sprinkles across my face as i wade through it. it's as silent as possible in forks; cacophonous birds in the canopies of trees, leaves rustling and the crunchy sound of dirt beneath my sneakers. if edward is wrong, why do i feel like the asshole? why do i feel shortchanged? i'm not losing anything by cutting a manipulative womanizer out of my life. he wasn't upgrading the quality of my existence, so why keep him around? i should know better than to deal with cheap souls.
my parents will be wondering why i'm home so early – it will probably become the general tool of warfare for the night. my mother will throw snide comments across the room like short, sharpened knives, hinting at the incompetence of my father's ability to raise me. my father will jam proverbial daggers into the kitchen table, claiming that my mother and i are two dirty feathers of the same bird. the conflict will escalate until there's gunfire and bomb shrapnel spraying all over the house.
the thought depresses me and at the same time comforts me. if i'd stuck around, the unpredictability of edward would've overwhelmed me far before anything else about him. at least my parents are consistent.
like ringing a bell to beckon a dog, the maleficent silver volvo pulls up beside me on my path and slows to a crawl, keeping up pace with me as i hold my head up in a dignified manner and trudge forward. i'm slightly embarrassed and aware of how foolish i look but my disgust and anger have triumphed over all other underlying emotions. through my peripheral vision i see the passenger window roll down and reveal alice cullen's face.
"bella, there is nothing that could anger you enough to walk like fifteen miles to your house. get in the damn car."
"i'm fine, thanks." i say with acid, instantly regretting it. alice has done nothing wrong and has already told me that she's used to suffering for the actions of her brother. "i just need some air." i say with less venom.
"okay well, we'll just follow along until you decide you're caught up on oxygen." i turn to watch her rest both her forearms on the length of the window frame and place her chin upon them. what's the point? i wonder. what's in it for her to be so kind and receptive to me? "whatever my idiot brother did that upset you, i know he's sorry. and so am i, for whatever role i've played in his schemes."
"alice, just please stop talking. let me clear my head." i need for there to be nothing but sounds of nature. i need for there to be no immediate apologies and a warm backseat. the crisp air, my wet hair, the dirt crunching beneath my feet… all of these things will have to become viable substitutes for a lake or pond or pool. alice lays her cheek on her arms and looks ahead with me, keeping up perfectly as i take a deep breath and continue walking. i dare not look past her at the tomato-haired boy driving though i know he's occasionally glancing my way. the silence is slightly maddening with their presence stalking me down the winding road but i try to focus on the greenery and the droplets of water that sit precariously on their leaves. the first step is to calm myself down, to attune my heart to a near sleeplike state and push all emotions back beneath the liquid mask i'd forged. it's been faulty lately, easily penetrated and sabotaged, but it's a useful mechanism that i'm not willing to let go. it's saved me from years of warfare with my parents and has allowed me to remain a functional person. after the first step, i'm able to analyze the situation and come to a conclusion that's separated from my emotions.
what are the facts here? what do i know about edward cullen?
that he's a womanizer? no. i don't really know that. i can't. all the information i need for that kind of confirmation would require me to talk to him about those things; who he's slept with, how he's felt about them... so what else? i know that he's lost his mother. that he… he's always alone, eventually. i know that, regardless of what relationship he starts with, they never last long. he gets bored? that's not a fact, it's an opinion. an observation. i know that he hates those who fall in love with him. i heard him say that to lauren. but what does that even mean? why ask a woman out and then grow to resent her when her feelings for you grow?
i don't know. i've never asked him.
i know that my cold, indifferent stare somehow excites him. that because of the way i look at him, he now wants to look at me. and what does that mean? he's excited about the prospect of being with someone who may never come to love him? unconsciously, i find myself looking into the dragging volvo and watching his rigid profile, willing my eyes to pierce his surface and understand the inner workings of his mind. perhaps i've been unfair. too many assumptions, not enough clarifications.
even if i am right about edward cullen and his misogynistic ways, it can't hurt to ask him. to talk to him and find out for sure. for the sake of clarity and logic, for the sake of fighting against the impulsitivity that lies beneath my liquid mask. i shift my focus and stop walking, turning to alice and her enigmatic gaze.
"feeling better?" she murmurs.
"no. but i'm feeling tired." i bend my back forward and lock eyes with edward. his green pupils look soft and sticky, inviting like a venus fly trap. "unlock the back door?" i slide inside the backseat. the air inside the vehicle is tense and even more chilled than outside. a few drops of water drip onto the leather seats and i twist my hair before laying the wet coil along my chest to quiet it. the volvo's speed quickly increases and soon the trees are lush green clouds disappearing behind us. it feels strange sitting in the backseat. i feel more like a criminal than ever, arrested and being taken into custody. i'm used to the passenger's seat and a fresh bag of baked goods. i was getting spoiled.
"so… we'll be dropping you home then?"
"a little ways from home. i can walk the rest of the way." edward adjusts his rearview mirror and through it he gives me a puzzled look.
"why?" he asks, only to be slapped across the head by alice.
"i didn't say you could speak to her." she hisses at him but leans over and looks at me from her seat. "but why? edward has picked you up from your house before."
"it's just what i want." i growl before turning back to the window. the truth is that my parents are already home and most likely well into their latest argument and i'd rather not have alice or edward hear their yelling. or plate smashing. or hollow threats. i just want to go home, run a warm bath and submerge my ears for most of the night. through the rearview mirror i spot edward furrowing his eyebrows but returning his vision to the road. the rest of the drive is quiet, punctuated only by delicate sighs from an unhappy alice. every so often she turns and glances at me and we exchange small, curt smiles before she looks back towards the winding lanes. i maintain a level of calm and manage to ruminate on my thoughts about edward despite him being but a few feet away.
from the beginning i was able to recognize that he had commitment issues and that they most likely have something to do with his mother, but edward was right about one thing when he confided in me his feelings. i will not pity him. i will not make excuses for him. if he behaves like a piece of shit, i'll let him know i'm not here to smell it. but perhaps i was too harsh? or too quick to dismiss him? as we pull up into the driveway of my house, the subtle squirming in my stomach grows hot like a heated screw. i can feel myself finding a reason to hold on to him. and remain friends with him. i can feel myself ascribing worth to this moron.
wait.
pulling into the driveway?
"i thought i told you to park a little ways away from my house!"
"i thought so too," replies edward calmly, "but then i realized that you're far too logical a woman to tell me something so nonsensical so i figured i imagined it." alice audibly scoffs before attempting to slap edward across the back of the head again, but this time he smoothly dodges it.
"you're just hellbent on ruining everything aren't you?" she asks him. "and where has all the self sabotage gotten you?" i'm surprisingly tranquil while i await edward's response, completely unfocused by alice's scathing remarks and indifferent to his defiance. he just rolls his eyes and unlocks all the doors of the volvo before opening the door and exiting. and that's when i'm scrambling out the vehicle after him, slightly embarrassed with a sense of urgency.
"just where do you think you're going?" i half-yell at him.
"to say hello to your parents, of course. i just have to meet the people who spawned such a charming young lady." he continues trekking up the path to the stairs after throwing me a devilish smile over his shoulder. i wish i had a gun.
"how fucking childlike can you treat me in one day?" i ask but before he can provide one of his snarky trademark answers, a large crash interrupts him and stops us in our tracks. edward spins around to look at me, his expression letting me know that he's fully aware that i'm up to something. that my comments are hollow and that my voice is loud. too loud. unlike me. that i'm trying to cover up something that he's about to unleash. loud, boisterous profanities from my father echo through the small front windows before the sound of breaking plates are heard again. edward turns back to the front door now, a different demeanor embedded in his limbs. my mouth glues shut but my eyes remain locked on edward's back, attempting to read the muscles visible through his shirt. what is he thinking there, standing on the first stair of my house porch, listening to my mother and father and their small skirmish? the wind blows, cold and comforting, like a balm over a festering wound. i'm sweating with humiliation. i hear alice approaching behind me, slightly noisier than a mouse, and i turn to look at her.
"what is that?" she asks me, her eyes wide as walnuts. but edward hushes her with a raised hand before turning to look at me again. his thick auburn eyebrows are furrowed low on his face and his eyes are thick with conflict. like a green tar, i'm unable to wade out of them. i'm pulled so deeply into his expression that i can see remnants of my own face in the creases of his mouth and the reflection in his eyes. there's confusion, a sense of not understanding that reminds me of how i was as a child. puzzled. how could two people fight about absolutely nothing almost every day? how could two people who so despised one another stay together? and how could my presence do nothing to affect them at all? all of these inquiries are etched onto edward's face, almost accusatory in nature.
suddenly the front door opens and my father steps out with a plastic bag full of broken glass, cursing underneath his breath. his brown eyes fall on the three of us before narrowing on me.
"you're home incredibly early," he huffs. "skipped the pool for your scrawny friends?" i give him no answer and he doesn't expect one. he doesn't miss a beat on his way to the trash can at the curb. edward, alice and i are all but frozen; only our eyes shift to each other, analyzing and answering. as my father walks back up the path to our front porch stairs, edward suddenly steps in front of me, his posture severe and defensive. does he think my father will hurt me? is that what he's assessed from the situation?
"get into the car bella," alice whispers and suddenly her tiny fingers lace with mine, shockingly strong. "let's go."
"and where would she be going young lady?" charlie snarls, his eyes still on edward. "we haven't given permission for her to go anywhere or do anything."
"it's all right alice," i say, resisting her hand pulling me in her direction. "it's not like that." it was never like that, thankfully. i'm more of a wet breath in that house than a human being.
"go bella." edward says sternly but what does that mean to me? i feel small; acknowledged and small and suddenly very tired. my bed is only a few steps away. so is my bathtub.
"why should i?" i ask. it's not like i'm being beaten or bruised. i'm fine. i've always been fine.
charlie sniffles and runs his fingers through his hair before firmly saying, "you aren't allowed to go anywhere."
it is alice who answers my question, her grip on my hand growing tighter with the passing time. "because this isn't good for a human being. this kind of thing does something to you. this kind of thing kills something inside you." her last sentence is directed at charlie and her voice takes on the impression of someone much, much older. much older and much more exhausted than i am right now or charlie has ever been. charlie scoffs before heading inside, throwing his hands up in resignation and passively dismissing edward cullen and his ready-to-fight stance. the tension in the air almost visibly lightens, so quickly in fact that i'm left reeling with vertigo. my eyes scramble all over; the woods, the house, the boy, the car, the stones and gravel on the pathway and at the base of the stairs… nothing is making sense and everything is happening too quickly. alice places her chalk white hands on the tops of my arms and ushers me to the back of the volvo and somehow the gesture has me fighting back tears. i can't remember the last time i'd been held so gently. or spoken to so softly. is she speaking? she's telling me it'll be all right. and will it?
edward enters the volvo with a slam of the driver's door and we peel out of the driveway with an elegance i could never achieve. still, with all of edward's driving precision, i can feel some wicked emotion emanating from him in waves. it drugs me in a sense, makes me too tired to continue dealing with anything or anyone. i ask where we're headed and edward replies "our house" just before i fall asleep.