AN: I've been sort of sick lately. Just headaches, ear and throat aches; really all aches; if I fall into update hell it's probably because I've turned all 'woe is me'. Anyway thanks for commenting, reading & alerting; all that good stuff. I love hearing feedback. :D
""Tell me what you read and I'll tell you who you are" is true enough but I'd know you better if you told me what you reread."
-Rancois Muriac
Chapter Three: part one
As I lay in bed that Saturday night, listening to Renee's soft snores with my eyes in 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland,' I started feeling guilty. So yes I had lied to Edward, sort of. I wasn't reading 'Great Expectations' at the moment but I didn't think he'd find it charming that I was book stalking him. Plus before I'd met him I had been reading 'Great Expectations' and since there was still a chapter left I was technically, kind of, still reading it.
It wasn't a crime, I hadn't stolen or shot anything; I'd just lied, kind of. I'd just said something that wasn't quite true. Yet somehow I hadn't been able to read past the second chapter, 'the pool of tears'. I couldn't concentrate, not an inch, not a lick; not at all.
There was no reason I should feel like this but that didn't change the fact that I did. With pity on my soul I shut the small book and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud. I shut the light beside my bed off and closed my eyes, praying to find solace in the dark, in the quiet; in-between my consciousness.
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"Charlie called last night," Renee said as I handed her coffee.
I sat down, eyes wide, confused. "Why?"
"To talk." She took a sip of the dark brown liquid, swirling it around her mouth.
"About…" I led.
"About Christmas."
She didn't smile, she looked timid. "Is he coming down?" He hadn't in a while but I assumed that, like he used to long before, he might reprise the appearance. Frankly, I wanted to see him. Talking to Edward about fathers all those days ago had let the small daddy's girl inside resurface. Technically I hadn't ever been that girl but that didn't mean I didn't want to see him.
"Not exactly." She winced and I swallowed convulsively, "Actually, well, uh," Renee at a loss for words; a day I thought I'd never see, "You see, Phil was talking and, yeah, he has to go to this thing around the holidays and it's not in the city." She set her cup down, giving me her full attention. "He invited me but I told him we have our traditions."
Our traditions consisted of setting out a two foot fake green tree on the coffee table, putting a little star on top and buying each other something twenty dollars or under. On Christmas day we'd eat cookie dough because we were always too lazy to cook while watching whatever television special was on. They weren't important traditions exactly, they didn't have meaning but they were ours.
I could see where she was going and I didn't like it but she was my mother. "So Charlie said he'd take me for the holidays?"
Her eyes dropped and she seemed to find the place mat more entertaining than any plastic woven rectangle could possibly be, "I didn't ask him," she rushed the words like she thought I'd take offense.
So maybe I was a little, small, tiny bit hurt that she'd rather spend that special day with Phil but I was also a mature responsible girl and I could see her point. Now I know I shouldn't have been thinking about Phil, mainly because he was sort of stealing my mother away slowly but surely, but I couldn't help it.
If he was spending Christmas out of the city that meant most, or maybe all, of his friends wouldn't be there for him. It meant, very likely, that his family wouldn't be there. So, yeah, I thought he could use my mother more than I could.
"What did he say?"
"Well, just that he was thinking you should come down, I swear I didn't even tell him about the Phil thing-"
"Don't sound so guilty." I stood up, walking to the kitchen and grabbed an apple, giving a little chuckle to show that this was really no big deal. "I should go see Charlie; it's been a while." She sighed and I knew she was relieved. "So what is Phil's thing anyway?"
I took a bite of the granny smith as I sat back down. "It's this training thing; not a lot of the guys on Phil's team are going, I mean it is a really silly time but it was mostly aimed at the two teams around there. I don't know much about it to tell you the truth."
I nodded my head, "Are you sure you won't mind?" Her voice sounded strained; her cheeks went pink; she just looked altogether uncomfortable.
"Nah, its fine, really, don't stress. How long were you thinking?"
"Like a week?" she answered like a question.
"Yeah, fine, a week sounds good." But really I wasn't sure if it was fine. I couldn't remember Charlie's temperament well. I had a vague idea that he was simple, direct and distant but that was about it. He wasn't like Renee but then no one really was. I smiled at her, yawned, and hoped that as the days ticked down I would feel ready.
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The last bell at school had rung two minutes ago; I was just shoving things into my locker when Angela came up. She looked awful but that wasn't what caught me off guard. No, not the fact that she looked like she'd just finished reading up on murder cases; eyes wide, shocked, a little teary; no none of that, just that she was standing next to me. Angela had a fifth spare, last class of the day, and yet she was still here.
"What's wrong?"
She leaned her head against the locker beside mine; it was an empty so at least no one would be bumping her away. I grabbed my coat and locked my own before I took her hand and tugged her away.
She didn't talk until we were two roads away from the school, walking to get coffee. "I broke up with Erick." I had suspected as much but not wanting to be presumptuous, had waited for her to admit it.
I held the coffee shop* door open for her and she trailed miserably in past me.
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The coffee shop was trendy, local artist's work was displayed on the walls, hanging on thin wire. There were couches, chairs, stools and tables; none of them truly matched anything else but they all fit. Both ends of the shop had an exit and the front counter was full of yummy, attractive looking chocolate.
Angela and I were sitting at the most private table, it was off to the side. One wall was a window looking out on the parking lot while the other sided with the bathroom. The door to the bathroom wasn't around us so there was no need for any interruptions.
We'd both gotten hot chocolate though mine was white hot chocolate, and we both hadn't said a word since ordering and thanking the barista.
I broke the silence in one fail swoop, "How'd Erick take it?"
Angela's eyes glazed back to life, she was playing with the lip on the tall yellow mug. "He wasn't surprised or anything."
"Did he make a big deal about it?"
"Not really."
"And you spoke to him during your fifth spare?" It was a stupid, irrelevant question but it was all I could come up with. I knew already that the answer was 'yes.' Angela wouldn't have been able to tell him in first, the only class she had with him, because that would have been awkward but then anything would have been awkward, I guess.
She wouldn't have told him at lunch because it was loud, more like a party than a crowd*, or maybe both and therefore inopportune. Actually, since I'd eaten with Angela I knew she hadn't told him then or before. It had been a normal lunch, maybe she had seemed remote but I hadn't been paying her rapt attention.
I'd known she hadn't broken up with him right after our first conversation or the days after because she'd called me day after day fretting about it. We both knew it would come eventually but I hadn't been thinking today.
So the only time when they were together, alone and uninterrupted was their fifth spare. I was slightly surprised that Angela had broken up with him on school property but then inviting him over to break up with him would have been uncomfortable as well.
"Yeah," She answered.
"So it didn't go over so well?" I tried another similar question to get something out of her. If she didn't want to talk about it she wouldn't have found me after school, she could have found someone else to hang out with, I was the only one who knew about Ben.
"It went fine; really." She looked out the window forlornly.
"Then what's wrong; he doesn't want to stay friends? Did he say something rude?"
"No, no, we're going to stay friends. It might be kind of strange for the first couple days at lunch but we'll be good."
"So what's wrong?" it had been the first question and, I supposed, it might be the last. I didn't want to pester her, I wanted to help.
"I just don't think it matters." She blinked back to me and I took a sip instead of pushing more questions onto her. "Ben and I just aren't…" her eyebrows lowered like she'd uncovered a hidden level in 'Donkey Kong 64*,' "just aren't."
Her voice sounded so lost, childlike, sad that I couldn't help emulating her feelings. A tear ran down my face and I brushed it away quickly. "Maybe not now-"
"Not ever," she interrupted; not harshly just truthfully.
"You don't know the future." She let that slide.
"It's going to take me a few days." A few days to what I wasn't sure. She'd been the one to break up with Erick, she'd known for a while so I didn't quite understand why, after she seemed fine about it, she still needed more time. I guessed it wasn't about Erick at all, maybe it never was. Though I wished I saw what she suddenly did; what made her think anew that Ben was impossible.
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Wednesday came too soon, not because I didn't want to see Edward but because I wasn't sure if I was supposed to meet him at the library or if he was coming over; we hadn't been clear on that. I assumed he was coming over but assuming can get you in trouble or just make you feel really uncomfortable. It was a fair assumption, I told myself, he'd said he didn't like me walking around in the dark and it was dark now.
He'd come over Saturday morning and it hadn't even been dark then so that led to the obvious; or what I thought was obvious but might not actually be. This was what Edward was doing to me; I was a bi-polar mess. Each second I twisted what I thought made sense.
Shouldn't he have said something? But then I didn't say anything either…*
Renee wasn't home, again, she'd gone to see a movie with Phil; or at least that's what she said. She'd driven to pick him up just over ten minutes ago and the house lay so quiet I could hear that the television, in the other room, hadn't been turned off properly.
Edward wasn't expected for at least twenty minutes, if he was expected at all; it was almost too late to walk to the library if that was what I was supposed to do.
I sighed out loud before trudging up the stairs and grabbing a book from my room. I was back at the kitchen table quicker than someone with my clumsy tendencies should attempt; sitting down I stared at the fraying cover of the book. It was thick; an Edgar Allan Poe collection* of his short stories. I had decided to wait at the house; I was eighty percent certain he would come here.
I turned to the contents page to select a story, scanning them fast, already pretty sure which one I felt like. 'The Cask of Amontillado,' It was one of his more popular stories and one I hadn't read in a couple years, I flipped the book more than half way through, page 542, and began reading.
The doorbell rang one sentence before the end of page 543. I quickly finished the page and turned it, leaving the book open on the table as I got up to get the door.
It was Edward, I knew it would be, but it still stunned me as I opened the door. He'd bundled up more than last time, wearing gloves, a scarf and a thicker coat.
He pulled off his black leather driving gloves as he stepped inside. "Hello, Bella." He smiled and I returned a grin.
"Hello, Edward," I let my fingers play with the cuff of the long white thermal shirt I was wearing, it wasn't as fancy as the last two outfits but I wanted to feel comfortable today.
"How was your day?" he shut the door and nudged his feet out of those same grandpa-like shoes. He was wearing similar socks, white again, but these were just up to the ankles, the edge ribbed in black. Was it strange that I seemed to focus on his socks* both times? Maybe, but socks were usually covered in public so when they did make an appearance I made note.
"It was fine." Fine was one of those throw away words but I wasn't sure how else to answer. "And your own?"
"Quiet."
He walked past me to the kitchen, a quick study. "Why's that?"
"Just hung around," a vague answer but then what I had given was vague as well.
He sat down first, the seat I had vacated before he'd arrived, so I walked around the table to sit across from him. His hands immediately grabbed the book that was sitting open in front of him. He flipped the page back to see which story I was reading before putting his thumb on the page to hold his place as he twisted it to the cover. "I didn't take you for a Poe girl."
"And if I didn't know you so well I wouldn't have taken you for a Carroll* boy."
He laughed as he set the book aside. "And you think you know me so well…"
"Oh, of course," I coughed to clear my discomfort, "Let me guess, you're reading Barrie; 'Peter and Wendy'*?"
"No," His fingers pulled open the binder he'd carried in. "Though that is actually my second favourite book; Peter Pan is a great character."
I raised an eyebrow, "I don't know if I'd say he was great; more like egocentric."
He chuckled and I had to meet his face to see; how could you not look at a gleeful God? His eyes shined at me, the overhead light making his eyelashes cast long elegant shadows on his cheeks. "But he's so young." Edward said like it excused Peter's actions, maybe like he'd encourage him if he were real.
"Like that's an excuse. If the kids in my mom's class used your logic they'd battle over who gets the black crayon*."
He relaxed his smile, one side falling down. "Regardless, I'm impressed*, I'm pretty sure I'm going to read Barrie next."
"So what are you reading now, still 'Alice'?"
"'The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,'" he answered looking slightly embarrassed, like he always seemed to when he mentioned his reading material.
"Why do you always look so… uncomfortable when we talk about books?"
He flipped through his binder, eyes looking down at the pages, perfect writing easily legible. "I don't know; no one ever asks me about what I like; you know?"
I didn't know actually. Angela and I frequently talked about books, even my mother and I had some conversations, seldom as they were, but I didn't say any of that, "Do you mind talking about them?"
His eyes widened like he was surprised by my question, "No." He pursed his lips, "No I, uh, like talking about books with you," his lips tipped up quickly before returning to a neutral position, "No one's ever cared about what I like before, I, well… I like talking to you."
I blushed, it wasn't like what he said was supposed to be romantic and maybe it wasn't really, but it was nice to hear he liked talking to me. It made me feel warm just hearing that he liked showing his personality; knowing I was the first to ask him questions that seemed he needed to be asked even if they were silly and simple.
"So how'd your test go?"
Notes:
* Coffee shop: This is a real coffee shop that I used to go to often. I have no location imagination.
* Party/crowd: This is a reference to my favorite Modest Mouse- 'I've got it all(most)'.
* Secret Donkey Kong 64 level: This was the first game my brain came up with that had secret levels. That's really all there is to this reference.
* Would Edward show up: Yes, well this almost always happens to me. Someone is taking so long to show up that you start to question whether you are the one not showing up. I don't know, I guess I just think anxieties like this are really human.
Oh yes, and Renee meeting Edward will happen but I thought he needed a bit more time to become comfortable in Bella's house.
* Edgar Allan Poe: Bella is reading 'Edgar Allan Poe Greenwich Unabridged Library Classics' printed in 1981. I don't think it's really a Bella book exactly because she's more a classic romance person but I, personally, love, love, love E.A.P.
*Socks: Like I said before I really do love socks. I have way more socks than any one person ever needs. So yeah, I will ramble on about things like socks and there won't be much reason why other than "awe socks are cute".
* Carroll: Lewis Carroll; author of 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'
* Barrie: J.M. Barrie is the writer of 'Peter and Wendy'/ 'Peter Pan' and all other title variations.
*Black crayon: Why do black crayons always get used up so fast?
*Impressed: Edward is impressed Bella already knows him so well; that she knows his book type. He isn't used to people paying a lot of attention to him so it's nice for him to have someone care. For some reason while I read this back it seemed weird that he said he was impressed; I felt I had to clarify.