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Carlisle will always be Edward's closest friend, but over the last century since her inclusion in his family Alice has become his confidant. Initially, it was the similarities between them that sparked their close friendship, but he'd be lying if he said it had nothing to do with her divination skills. Knowing the future and reading minds was simply too much temptation for Edward: feeds his god complex, which all men have. He and Alice grew close as a result of her exuberant disposition, their shared obstinacy and the ability to communicate flawlessly and completely without words.
The rest of the family marveled at their silent exchanges. Eventually Edward explained to Carlisle in detail the process and protocol which governed their mind-meld.
"Her visions are immersive. Alice is completely sense deprived, but the vision is like real life to her, only processed at vampire awareness; a few minutes of vision correlates to a few hours of experience. Sight is slightly dimmed, but she can feel the wind against her skin, smell everything around her, hear background noises, etc. So when she's having a vision of us conversing, and I'm reading her mind, I can adjust my decisions at the speed of her visions, her brain. I'm communicating with her without hearing, so it's happening fast. We can have several hours of conversation in a few minutes; very good for strategizing. It's... convenient and somewhat intimate. I know Alice better than I know myself, and vice-versa."
So the past few weeks of Alice withholding her visions and conversation has been strange, frustrating and generally annoying and his mood has been darkening despite her assurances that everything is fine. Pronouncing his displeasure seems to do no good and melodramatic decisions are met with Alice's giggles and the double wave break of calm and content from Jasper.
That was another new development that was feeding Edward's disillusionment. Jasper had never used his abilities on him, had been prohibited from doing so except at Edward's behest until earlier in the summer when a disturbing trend developed in Jasper's thoughts. Edward dealt with it in direct fashion.
"Jasper, I know you wish to speak to me about this. Do not mince words."
The relief that leaked from Jasper soothed both of them past the point of awkwardness. "Edward your loneliness is gettin' painful. And the apathy is getting to be an issue, too. You know I can fix it." What goes unspoken is acknowledgement of the bond between them, Alice included; it binds them inextricably. With a deep sigh, Edward relents.
"I'd rather not be medicated...but it's fine. I know you're suffering because of me. Do what you must." A sly grin adorns his unlined face. "Apropos of absolute necessity, of course."
"Tar water's all ya really need, anyway. Serves two purposes. One: loosen you up- maybe you'd even come home with a woman. Two: forget all the shit that we've done."
Edward's remembering drinking some Saxon wine he and his war-party "acquired" with fondness, and he's genuinely forlorn that he'll never be able to get "wallpapered"(as Jasper nostalgically refers to it) again when the civil war Major pipes up, grinning. "She's out there ya know. And she doesn't stand a chance, brother. What is it they say? 'Putty in your capable hands.' You'll find yours."
Edward wonders if he ever will. It seems the perfect storm has coalesced to keep him alone for eternity. As a human he was picky, had women of every tribe, direction, color, and class throwing themselves at him on a near daily basis. And aside from a physical release, he was never interested in any of them after the girl was murdered when he was fifteen. He's considered that he might have been too busy for a permanent lover, wife or family what with murdering invaders and being king, but he knows it was more than something that simple.
In all those intervening years before he met Carlisle, he did a lot of contemplating. His conclusions, varying from precise to faulty, always left a bitter taste in his mouth: like loneliness. His first attempt at explaining his lack of desire for a female companion played out like a bad teen angst drama. He reckoned he was faulty, lacked some integral part that left him loveless. He discarded that theory out of sheer stubbornness and annoyance. His second idea, coming a few hundred years later, was closer to the mark; he posited that the same part of his nature that led to the mind reading, a cynical, voyeuristic creep, was simply too analytical and critical of the fairer sex.
The correct conclusion didn't come until Carlisle joined him some centuries later. It was a flippant remark Edward made on July 8, 1647, something along the lines of "well maybe I'd like them a little more if I didn't have to listen to them underestimate me in their minds," that flipped the proverbial light bulb on above Carlisle and Edward's heads. After some deliberation and debate on the details, they'd come to a tentative theory that Edward would never be able to fall in love with someone whose thoughts he could hear.
Edward can see the detached, dreamy look on Carlisle's face as he spoke his final words on the subject, "There's mystery to falling in love, but it's not completely indecipherable. It's the mutual discovery of two hearts that mirror one another. I'll never truly understand it, and neither will you- despite your mind reading abilities. But I know that it can't be one sided. There has to be symmetry, balance. It's equality that you lack Edward, not some nameless thing. You're not broken, just special. You'll need someone equally special to ignite that spark." He hopes this is true and Carlisle believes it, but he's spent a lot of time looking and found nothing.
It's the predawn hours that find Edward mulling over his missing pieces, melancholy and numb. He almost feels guilty tainting the meadow when he's feeling like this, but he needs its cathartic qualities: the soft wind rustling the boughs and flowers, an occasional star winking it's way through the oppressive clouds, the patter-splash of intermittent rain on his bare chest, and the irreverent cooing of a Northern Pygmy Owl. He's planning on hunting too, as a precaution, since tomorrow will be his first day as the new AP Biology and freshmen science teacher at Forks High School. Cooped up with several hundred tasty teenagers is not the venue to test his control. And though the American Revolution was the last time he truly considered feeding on a human, it pays to be prudent.
After a gluttonous escapade in the Olympic National Forest, Edward is traipsing lackadaisically towards home. His phone rings.
"Where are you? It's 6:45 and you have to shower, and get dressed before school starts. And I've laid your clothes out, so don't try and wear that awful tweed monstrosity."
"What's wrong with my jacket? I've had it since the seventies and gotten plenty of compliments on it."
"If it's age isn't enough, then the godawful elbow patches sure are."
"I'll be home in 4 minutes."
As he's hanging up, entirely annoyed at Alice's interruption, he hears a faint "I know." It's enough to make him take a slightly circuitous route home- arriving in six minutes.
Thirty minutes after that he's sitting next to Alice in the driver's seat of his silver Audi R8 5.2. He's long since resigned himself to being conspicuous and if that's his curse he'll embrace it, maybe divert it, by buying the most badass car he can find and shamelessly flaunting it. Even before Rose put the finishing touches on it, this particular automobile was the most thrilling he's driven since the invention of traction control, aside from the outrageous Bugatti Veyron(even Edward, with 600 years-plus of wealth accumulation couldn't bring himself to fork over a cool million for a car).
"You're ready, Eddie, let's go."
"You know Alice, the red interior makes you look demonic." She ignores him.
"There's a few things I have to do this morning, okay. So let's go." He tries reading her mind, but she's got him locked out with looped Osmond sibling songs. It's almost enough for him to forcibly remove her from the car, and he thinks about it for a split second too long. "Just drive, Edward. From now on I'll take my own car you jerk."
He wants to call her names, too. Be petty for her unnecessary and disheartening silence, but he loves her too much. And because she knows him like she does, she smiles a heartrending smile at him, and reaches across the center console for a quick hug. The contact comforts both of them, and it occurs to Edward, as it often does, that he doesn't get touched very often. So he wishes... and puts the car in first and drops the clutch.
After making an appearance in the front office to pick up his student roster, and say a quick hello to the principal, Edward drops by the teacher's lounge to "get a cup of coffee." It's the little things that lend credibility to his family's lies. He introduces himself to a few teachers he hasn't met, and is not startled to find that the women are attracted, albeit intimidated by him, and the men hate him with unbridled passion. It's no small wonder considering he's dressed in a custom made pinstripe suit, drove up in a $150,000 car and, according to their story for the next few years, has a Ph.D. in Biology at the tender age of twenty-one: Jenks, their lawyer/scratcher is a miracle worker, but throw enough money at any problem and it will disappear.
While Edward is friendly to his coworkers he has no plans to cultivate any sort of relationship with any of them. It's not something people question with a family as large as theirs; people tend to make the natural assumption that they spend all their time together, which they do. However in a town like Forks, small and invasive, extra measures must be taken sometimes. In this situation, they isolate themselves with money and a few well-timed too-wide smiles. There is a convenient satisfaction Edward derives from instilling fear in his nosy neighbors and most of the time it requires only a few dark expressions and invasions of personal space.
After extricating himself from his colleague's lamprey-like conversation, he makes his way to his classroom. When he gets there he can smell Alice all over the room which simultaneously annoys and comforts him. It means she's been meddling, but he's never know her to meddle to his detriment. After a few seconds of investigation he discovers that she's opened a window and put a fan in front of it. The little portable fan is drawing fresh, albeit damp, air in from the outside and pushing it right past his desk, the lectern and into the doorway to the hall. Edward can't quite reckon why she'd have done this, but he knows better than to second guess, or bet against Alice; she's not infallible, but going against her precognitive whims usually leads to embarrassment at the very least.
The school, embracing the new education techniques, has changed to block scheduling for the 2009 year so Edward has only three classes to teach with an open third period when all the students and teachers are rotating through lunch. Which is convenient for him since he doesn't eat and flat out refuses to force lunchroom gruel down his gullet. His first two periods are freshman sciences and his final period of the day is AP Bio. It's bound to be painful, teaching such an silly overview of the sciences to an awkward group of youths but he hopes he can inspire at least a few of the impressionable teens to love learning the way he does. He relishes the arrival of the final block, where he hopes he will discover a more serious group of students.
When the first of the children start trickling into the classroom, he's hit with a wave of nerves. It takes him a moment to place the feeling mainly because its been a century since he felt that way, but he appreciates the focus that it brings him. He calls the class to order after the bell rings, and taking careful consideration not to answer anyone's thoughts, begins his first lesson. He uses a technique in each of his first two classes to learn about each of his students. It's a simple exercise that plenty of teachers have used before; he has each student write down interesting facts about themselves, paired with a unique summer experience. Most teachers don't have the added advantage of hearing their students thoughts while their doing it. It's enlightening to say the least: discerning those students with a tendency towards dishonesty will save him a lot of time throughout the semester.
By the time his AP class rolls around in the afternoon, he's in the zone. Quite frankly having as much fun as he can ever remember. The students seem to like him, his teaching style, and as far as he can tell they are genuinely engaged by his lessons. He's been revising lesson plans during his open period with laser-like focus. He's to the point that he barely notices students entering his classroom for the final period of the day. When the bell rings, signaling the start of class he glances up from his papers to find a room full of high school seniors staring intently at him.
After gifting them a lopsided grin, he begins role call. He notes the temperature has risen throughout the day, so he takes his jacket off, loosens his tie and crosses to the front of his desk. Adopting a comfortable human posture, he sits on the edge of his desk with his legs crossed at the ankles and gets to the next to last of the seventeen names on his list.
"Isabella Swan?"
"Here."
Her voice is quiet, smooth, sexy and completely unfamiliar. When he looks at her and finds deep brown orbs locked with his own, he is absolutely leveled. Not only does she look eerily like the only woman he's ever loved, but her thoughts are completely silent to him.
"It's you." For a few seconds it's the only thought in his usually-thought-filled head.
He's wept for her, waited for her, searched for her, saved himself and others for her, murdered for her, changed for her, stayed the same for her. He doesn't know her, but he realizes that everything he's ever done is for this woman-child. He's paralyzed with longing for her in front of all his students, her peers and he realizes he'll have to teach them advanced placement biology for a little over an hour and a half. So without breaking eye contact he retreats out of the classroom. He makes it just outside the closing door before collapses on the ground.
Real life reared it's ugly head. Plenty more B/E interaction to come. Let me hear ya.