A/N- I was sprinting through the mall dressed as a zombie, and I realized that man, life is awesome.
Comment of the Week:
Zach Galifianakis: I once ate a foot-long corndog on a nude beach… I'll never do that again.
Reviewer of the Week:
Vera Amber: Акула неделю pwns.
Basically, this is what happened.
I was sitting and reading my book when suddenly, this hungry look passed over Edward's eyes. He licked his lips. And before I could stop him, he had reached over and embraced me in a passionate kiss, and his hands were in my hair, and-
Yeah, no.
I wish.
This is what actually happened.
Hour 1: Read a horrible Nicolas Sparks novel that made me ball my eyes out. Excellent first impression on Edward with snot pouring out of my nose.
Hour 2: Plugged self into iPod. Accidentally started to sing along with Lady Gaga.
Hours 3-7: Slept. I woke up on Edward's shoulder. He just laughed it off.
Hours 8-9: Watched the in-flight movie, which was Up. I cried again. Edward must think I'm an emotional train wreck.
Hour 10: Read plane letters from friends. They said that I should either come home with a boyfriend or not come home at all. I have great friends.
Hours 11-12: Talked with Edward.
I know. The last one was a bit of a shocker. For two hours, we had the greatest discussions. I'm used to chatting with my girlfriends, and those conversations usually revolve around boys or celebrities or school, which all get tiring after a while. (Paris Hilton arrested for coke possesion! Britney Spears dancing on a boat! The world is ending!)
But despite the plane food from Hell and the baby that was crying for a solid hour at the front of the plane, I had a great time.
"But what do you think about Dante?" He had taken off his shoes and was sitting cross-legged. By now, most of the planes occupants were getting stiff and grumpy. Even the flight attendants were starting to get snappy. ("WOULD YOU LIKE A SNACK?")
We were asking about each other's opinions on famous authors. "He's not bad. He had some interesting ideas." I was holding my necklace at my throat again, just like when I'd walked onto the plane.
He caught what I wasn't saying. "But…?"
"But his works scared me. His descriptions of Hell were almost too vivid for me. I guess he was too good." To be truthful, I was terrified when I read him. I had to sleep with my light on for a week.
Edward nodded. "I get what you mean. What about Dickens?"
I was relieved for the change of topic. Still, we exhausted authors that we had both read quickly; we moved on to movies and TV shows before ending up on music.
"What's on your iPod?" He had been listening to it for the whole trip. Occasionally he would take out a notebook and write, but his earbuds were always in unless he was talking to me. (Chivalry isn't dead!)
"Music," he said, with that perfect grin dentists would kill for.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious." I softly punched him in the arm.
"You're welcome, Lieutenant Sarcasm." He looked down at his iPod briefly. It was the latest generation – mine was from 2001. "You're going to laugh."
"No, I won't." I braced myself. Usually when someone says that to me, I end up in hysterics on the floor. Just a fact of life.
He fidgeted and changed positions so that his back was to the aisle and he was facing me. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, obviously struggling for words. (I didn't know that was possible for someone so ridiculously perfect.) "Well…"
"You're secretly Superman and your cape is in your briefcase. I knew there was something different about you."
He snorted. "I wish. I'm not nearly that cool." I didn't say anything. He continued talking in a rush. "I compose my own music. I've been having trouble lately, so I've been listening to every composition of mine and seeing what I like and what I don't. Hopefully I can find some inspiration."
"You've been listening to your music this whole time?" I was impressed not only by his apparent musical genius, but by his crazy battery life on the iPod.
"Is that… bad?" More fidgeting. After talking to him for a while, I could tell he played with a thick leather bracelet on his wrist whenever he was nervous. Nervous? Pssh. Men don't get nervous. They just polish their handguns.
"You must've composed a lot." My music career ended when my grade nine music teacher told me that whenever I played the clarinet, I stuck a sword in Beethoven's heart. I switched to art pretty quickly.
"I have." He wasn't speaking arrogantly. It was just a fact.
"Can I listen to some?" I gestured to the iPod.
"Absolutely not."
I would've pushed it further, but the seatbelt sign lit up and the pilot explained that we would land in Rome in ten minutes. You could almost hear the sigh of relief from the passengers. There must have been at least a few hundred people on the flight, and most of them were ready to jump out the windows to get to land.
But there was a pang in my stomach.
I'd never see Edward again.
Although that could be my advantage.
"I'll probably never see you again," I explained. The plane started its bumpy descent. "So why can't I listen to your composition? And if I hate it I promise I'll fake it and tell you I love it."
He considered it. "You promise you won't laugh?"
It was actually a problem for him. "Of course not."
He slowly handed me the iPod. It was sleek and blue with two circles engraved on the back. It screamed money. Considering that his parents had a villa in Italy, I would guess that the clothes he was wearing could probably pay for the rent on my Mom's apartment for a month.
I picked the first song on the playlist. They weren't named – just 1, 2, 3, and so on.
And I closed my eyes.
I drifted.
It was wonderful.
I won't pretend I know anything about music, but I know what I like. The piano drifted from slow to fast and back to slow. Occasionally, I could feel the anger in the notes as the music swelled, but it would ebb away as soon as it started. Although the notes would go back to being lighter and faster, there was always a darker undercurrent. Now I knew why he hadn't wanted me to listen. This was Edward's diary.
And he let me listened.
I'll admit I felt some girlish glee. So sue me.
I finished the song as we touched down in Rome. I reluctantly handed over the iPod as we started to taxi down the runway. I spoke to him, but I was looking out the window to try and get a view of the countryside. There were these cool-looking pom-pom trees that America would be jealous of.
"It was amazing. And I'm not lying to spare your feelings. I'm a crap liar." It sucked when I was younger and snuck out of my room to eat junk food. My parents could smell the guilt from a mile away.
"Are you sure?" His smile was hesitant.
"Positive."
It didn't take long for the plane to roll into the airport. It was too quick, actually – aren't all planes supposed to be delayed? I didn't want to leave Edward, no matter how clingy and stupid that sounded. A girl like be wouldn't talk to a guy like him again.
Unconsciously, I was fiddling with my necklace again. Edward noticed. "Is that a nervous habit?"
"Yeah. My grandpa gave it to me the day he died." At Edward's horrified expression, I said, "No, don't worry, he wanted to go, I think. After my grandma died he was ready to see her again. I wear the necklace every day, though."
Maybe I should just say, Yeah, I bought the necklace at Sears. It was on sale for three bucks. The dying grandfather story was a bit too dramatic for some people.
"Can I see it?" he asked. We were standing, since the plane had come to a halt. It felt weird to not have the constant motion of flying. I nodded and he reached towards the pendant. I tried not to sigh in satisfaction with his hand next to my throat. (I am such a sicko.)
And he laughed.
"What?" The pendant was just my grandpa's family crest. It wasn't even something awesome, like, a llama or something.
"Nothing. I'm sorry. It's really nice." He quickly pulled on his jacket, which had been discarded long ago. "I guess it's time to say goodbye."
"Oh, um, yeah." I'd dreaded this moment. It was the end of Edward. Huh. The End of Edward could have been a movie title or something. Still, it felt as if I'd been living a different person's life for the past fourteen hours.
And maybe I liked that person's life better.
"It was nice meeting you," he said, and he grabbed me in a hug. I made sure to take in his scent (laundry detergent and lemon) before we pulled back for one last look. I tried to commit every detail to memory, and cursed my DNA for not giving me photographic memory.
"Yeah. See you."
We grabbed our stuff from the overhead compartments and joked as we waited for everyone else to disembark. We were near the back of the plane, so it took a while for us to get off. Even I'll admit I was getting antsy by the time the aisles cleared -if I'd had access to a weapon it wouldn't have been a pretty sight.
It felt weird to walk. I had planned on saying one last goodbye to Edward, but when I found myself right outside of the tunnel that connected the plane to the terminal, I was alone.
That was when I realized I didn't even know his last name.
I had planned on creeping him on Facebook, but that wasn't an option any more. "Great job, Bella. Fantastic as usual," I muttered to myself. I got a few stares. At least I'd never seen any of those people again.
I cast Edward out of my mind. I was an independent eighteen-year-old. An adult. I had to concentrate on other things now – such as not getting murdered in the Rome airport.
Most people can tell you that Italy has a reputation for good spaghetti, good pizza, and unbelievable panic-inducing chaos. All of them are true. The airport was massive and confusingly laid-out. In the end, I had to ask a security guard for directions.
Although I had landed in Rome, I wasn't staying there. I had to catch another flight to the city of Florence, where I would be staying for the summer. It was a short flight, only forty-five minutes, but I didn't want to miss it. That would be exactly something I'd do.
And then I looked at my ticket.
It was 7:45. The plane took off at 8:00.
The gate was on the other side of the airport.
I mean, really?
I had to sprint. At least I wore jeans and sneakers. I promised myself years ago I'd never be that girl in the dress and 3-inch stiletto heels trying to break her ankle running through the airport. I got lucky - I was the last person to make it on the plane… fashionably late, maybe?
The plane was a quarter of the size of the other one. There weren't any tourists on this flight – I could only hear Italian, and most of the plane's occupants were stuffy old businessmen with newspapers.
Key words: most of.
Guess who sat in the front row.
Just guess.
Yeah, that's right.
Edward.
Our eyes found each other at the same time. My grin exploded, but he spoke first. "Stalking me, now?"
I shrugged. "I could say the same thing." I kept on walking down the aisle to my seat, which was near the washrooms at the back. I smiled the whole way.
But, sure, Edward was going to Florence, but the city had a population of over three hundred thousand people. It's all squished together. You can practically live on top of someone and never know their name. We'd never see each other again-
Maybe.