Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.
An: What did you think of gangly, teenage Edward last chapter, huh? Not the sexy stud you're used to I bet. Just remember, every good-looking guy was once a less-than-good-looking boy once. Thank you to those who leave reviews. I try to reply as best I can & I very much appreciate your support.
Can't Help Myself: Chapter 5
Fresh morning light shines through an opening in my bedroom curtains and pours across the room. The brightness rouses me from my fretful sleep, though I lie in bed for several minutes before actually getting up.
It had taken me hours to get to sleep in the first place, and a quick glance at the old alarm clock on my bedside table tells me I'd only gotten four hours of sleep in total.
I went to bed relatively early the night before, around ten. After leaving the Clearwater's I wanted nothing more than hole up in my childhood bedroom and wish for the nightmare of my father's absence to be over.
Ideally I wanted to spend forever in that kitchen with you, but after your confession it seemed our moment had passed. You didn't even leave me time to answer before the kitchen door was swinging shut behind you.
The abrupt departure stung, but rather than dwelling on more hurt I simply said my goodbyes and left for home. Only once I arrived at the old, white and weathered house it didn't feel like home because Charlie was not in it.
I was also scared that you might show up at your parent's house, and then I'd have to deal with more awkward, painful conversations.
Of course you didn't, and I spent dinner alone, curled up on my couch.
Various casseroles and dinners had been placed outside on the doorstep ever since my arrival in Forks. I had not managed to eat a single bite all day, and I was famished.
However, when ten o'clock came I trudged upstairs to my old room, careful not to look at anything other than the inviting warm sheets of the bed. I'd made the mistake of looking at the picture-covered tack board and trinket-covered dresser on my first day back, and I had no plans of repeating said mistake.
The only problem was that when I closed my eyes … I thought of you.
Specifically I thought of the day we met. I wondered if I would've felt the same about you if I knew then, what I know now.
Somehow, I don't think even the worst of memories could've keep me from falling for you.
A game of "what if's" began playing in my head, unbidden, with every attempt I made to fall asleep. Pushing away the thoughts proved futile, and eventually I gave up. This game continued for four hours before my body finally gave up and allowed me a slight reprieve.
Six a.m., however, is an ungodly hour to be awake. I curse my window for facing the east and therefore being woken up with the sunrise.
The only thing for me to do is get ready for the day, and then get a head start on sorting through my father's belongings before Aunt Mary and Alice showed. By my estimate I have at least another two hours before their arrival.
After a much needed shower I slip into the comfiest clothes I own.
I plan to save Charlie's bedroom for last because I know it will be the most difficult, so I head to the kitchen instead. The yellow painted walls and floral valance above the sink are nostalgic reminders of my younger years; teenage years spent hating this house only to miss it dearly when I left it last.
The plates, cups, and bowls are boxed away first. I can buy paper ones to use during my stay.
My system for the process is simple: keep, sell, or trash.
There is very little I plan to keep because my place in Jacksonville is not big enough to store much past my own belongings. I do set aside Charlie's favorite coffee mug for the keep pile. It's a blue one that says "World's Greatest Dad" that I bought for him when I was twelve. It wasn't much for a gift, but I paid for it with my babysitting money, and I was proud of the purchase.
A knock on the front door pulls me from the pleasant memory. Why doesn't she just use her key? I fleetingly wonder, assuming that my aunt and cousin have now shown up to help.
I grab the handle and swing it open, grumbling a bit as I do. "What are you knocking for?"
Standing on my front step is not my Aunt Mary, or my cousin, Alice, but someone I would never expect to see at my house this early on a Saturday morning. Or at all for that matter.
"Normal people knock before they walk into someone else's home, Bella."
The way my name rolls off your tongue makes my legs tremble. It's been so long since I have heard you say it. But then I'm confused, but you being here is the complete opposite of what I expect.
"Can I come in?" You ask politely, motioning for me to step aside and let him pass.
"What are you doing here?"
For the second day in a row I want to smack myself. The words come out accusatorily, and I can't seem to say anything right when I am in your presence.
Your eyebrows raise significantly in surprise. "Aunt Mary didn't tell you?"
I love how you also call her Aunt. She always insisted that you do. You were as good as family to her.
Now I'm even more confused. "Tell me what?"
One of your hands rubs the back of your neck, which I know is a sign that you're uncomfortable. "She um, she invited me."
My eyes narrow. "When?"
You look sheepish and out of place, and I suddenly feel awful that I'm giving you the third degree.
Once again your hands are stuffed into your pockets, and you glance over your shoulder at your car as if you are considering leaving before this conversation gets anymore awkward.
"I'm sorry, I thought you know. She cornered me last night when I showed up at Harry and Sue's and told that she needed my help … something about heavy lifting."
I smile because that does sound like her. Not to mention she was just as meddlesome as her daughter, and therefore conning you and I into the same house for a day would be something only my aunt could pull off.
As if she'd scheduled it perfectly too, a small blue car pulls into the drive beside Edward's smaller black one. Aunt Mary steps out of the driver side, looking a bit more put together than she did the before. Not that I blame her.
When the passenger door opens I brace myself.
For the second time today I am surprised by what I see. When we were younger Alice's hair was the envy of every girl she ever met, including me. It was perfectly straight and hung down to her waist in complete perfection. The woman stepping from the car now looked like Alice, but her hair was cut short, just above her shoulders.
It wasn't just her hair that threw me off guard, however. The moment Alice stepped around the front of the car it was very obvious that she was also pregnant.
I'm not sure if this knowledge makes me want to congratulate her, or cry, but I'm leaning towards a bit of both. Worries about you standing on my doorstep are momentarily forgotten as this new bit of news tries to wrap itself around my brain in a way I can understand.
Why didn't she tell me? I'm aching for the loss of my friend even more now, though this time I allow myself to feel a bit of the pain. You have yet to say a single word, but one glance at your face tells me you had no idea about her current condition either.
"Oh good, Edward, you could make it," Aunt Mary greets as she walks briskly past the pair of us, a box of cleaning supplies in hand. I can see her eyes are still red-rimmed from the tears, but she's smiling today so that is a good sign. Stopping just inside the door, she turns to address him again, "Could you come help me with this box?"
We both know she's trying to allow Alice and me a much needed moment alone. Wordlessly you follow her into the house, but not before asking me with your eyes if it is okay. I nod because I truly want you around, no matter how much it might hurt later.
I step out onto the front step, pulling the front door closed behind me.
Alice smiles timidly. The stark contrast of this greeting compared to others of our past is not lost on me. Any other time and I would be begging for ear plugs as she shrieked and hugged the hell out of me.
Today we are awkward smiles and miles of space between us.
She's quiet because she's allowing me to absorb her news because she knows I'm hurt that she didn't tell me. So I ask her the only think I can think of.
"Why?"
An: There will be a lot more Edward in the next couple of chapters. I love to hear your thoughts, speculations, etc. so leave me a review to let me know what you think!