AN: Today is my birthday and so I am feeling immensely old. Oh getting older, why can't it be the other way? Oh yes because we've seen it the other way thanks to 'Benjamin Button' and that doesn't look like so much fun either. Oh well, if only we could stop when we felt like it. Anyway I was planning on getting out a chapter of 'Nearly' but because I am really terrible at updating anything I finished this chapter instead.
Many thanks for reviews and alerts. I love them very much.
Chapter Three: part three
The radio was playing in the background as Edward and I had our Saturday morning tutor session. He was in a good mood and because he was, I was. His attitude was contagious, his humor infectious. He'd give me tongue twisters and bad, stupid jokes in French; laughter carefully contained as he waited for me to figure them out. I'd never found another person so funny.
We were sitting beside each other at the kitchen table because I'd sat down first; I'd done it on purpose. He was leaning over the table and toward me, bridging the gap, so to speak. And I was doing the same, I liked him, I really did. Just thinking about him, even as he sat near me, I couldn't help blushing a little. He noticed but didn't comment.
His left hand's fingers an inch from mine flexing a fraction. What had changed from last Wednesday to today? I wasn't sure exactly but I knew I felt more comfortable with him. Was it because I'd shared so much of myself with him or something else?
Two words into a new French joke Edward seemed to trail off, his eyes piecing me; it was unexpected, so suddenly, but maybe not. His eyes seemed to grab mine whenever they felt the need to do so; they'd repeatedly caught me since we'd met.
Yet this time the silence dictated something different, something intense and uncertain, at least for me. I could feel myself going redder, my muscles tensing. This was the moment; however unaware and unprepared I was.
Edward's whole body shifted, just a little, but since I was becoming obsessively involved with every little thing Edward, I noticed.*
"Bella!" Renee's voice electrocuted our anticipation and I twisted to see her tumbling down the stairs, much more gracefully than I could ever in the rush she appeared to be in. She was wearing the dark blue jeans she'd worn yesterday and a loose fitting pale yellow tank top. A white see through shirt was half button over except she'd buttoned it wrong so that one part of the shirt ran longer than the other.
She was wearing one black sock while holding the other and her hair was in a tipsy pony tail. I blinked at her like I was a stupid mule.
Renee's eyes flicked to Edward as she took the last step and his appearance seemed to agitate her further.
"What's wrong?" I asked in a hollow voice.
"My alarm didn't go off," she practically yelled, running past us and into the kitchen, knocking over the small paper napkin holder on the counter as she rummaged.
"So?" I questioned, "Its Saturday mom, you know that day when you don't work."
She laughed harshly like I'd just told her Santa didn't exist and didn't want to believe me. "I know I don't work today," she coughed around a mouthful of cheap grocery bran muffin. "I was supposed to pick up Phil in," she glanced at the watch on her wrist, "Fuck, in two minutes."
"You didn't tell me that last night." I pointed out. She knew I would have woken her if I'd known ahead of time.
"Yes, well, I forgot more than once." She grabbed a banana from off the counter leaving her bran mess for a later cleanup. She coughed again, rushing to grab a glass from the closest cabinet to the two of us. Was it weird that I thought of Edward as the two of us? We weren't technically anything.
She filled the glass with tap water and took a long sip as her eyes finally returned to us. They grew wider as she stared at Edward and I almost turned to see how her wide eyed look had affected him but I didn't. There was something too telling if I cared to check, Renee was always extremely observant of human interaction.
"What are you doing with Phil this early?" She didn't exactly have time to give me a play by play but I asked regardless.
"Shoes," she sputtered. She took one last gulp before leaving her half finished water on the counter. It hit the sensitive radio and the volume went up a couple decimals; still quiet but not as distant. "And nice to meet you 'boy that is sitting at the table with Bella'."
I blushed to heaven and back. Why did that sound like an accusation? "Mom, this is my tutor, Edward Cullen." I quickly supplied the introduction, finally allowing myself the great privilege of turning around to see him.
He gave my mother a tight smile and lifted a hand to give a wave.
"Ah." Renee's voice sounded surprised and inquisitive, not a good combination.
"You said two minutes, right?" I pointed out before she could grill Edward as only she could and I knew she would. I turned to give her a tight glare.
"Fuck," she repeated. With the banana in hand she rushed out of the room, no goodbye, nothing. I heard the door open in her rush and only hoped she remembered her shoes. "Shoes, fuck," I heard her cry and I had to laugh.
"Don't forget to rebutton your shirt," I called.
"Fuck*." She muttered.
Banging was heard as I turned back to Edward who seemed immensely bemused. The door slammed and our moment resumed only this wasn't the same kind of moment. No this was one of those awkward ones that caused those stuttered, unable to allow, words.
And then Edward laughed, it was a deep unchallenged laugh and I couldn't stop myself from joining in.
It was a while later when we were both mostly composed. "Your mother is nothing like I imagined," he stated.
"Renee is like nothing anyone has imagined."
He chuckled. "But, I mean, she's extremely different than I could ever imagine. And you, you don't seem anything alike." It wasn't the first time someone had pointed out our differences. "I mean you're completely opposite."
"You met her for, what, ten seconds?" I laughed.
He laughed too, "Too soon to say for certain but I think, and when I said 'I think' I mean I'm 90% sure, that that wasn't unusual for her. Am I right?"
"You are right; I'm starting to suspect you are always right. Am I right?"
"Well that's hard to say," He joked back, "I mean I have been right for a very long time."
"So humble," I laughed.
"Who me?" he rolled his eyes, "Humble is beneath me."
He laughed and I followed suit. When did he get this comfortable? This was too fast, too much of a change.
Our laughter sobered up as the music played. Edward's eyes twitched and flicked to the radio. "What a perfect song," he finally said.
I listened closely. "A fan of Billy Idol?*" I asked smiling like the bimbo I was fairly certain I was becoming in his presence.
"Well, yeah, actually I am," His eyes returned to mine, "But the song's perfect not because it's Billy Idol but because there's French in it." And as his words drained from my ear's attention and I caught the music more wholly I noticed what he said was true. The female backup singers crooning 'Les yeux sans visage.' "Can you translate that?"
"Eyes without a face," I didn't even have to think about it. It was the name of the song after all.
"Eyes without a face," he repeated, the humor draining from his face.
"Like the movie." I bit my lip.
He seemed impressed, "You've seen 'Les Yeux Sans Visage*?'" he asked in his perfect accent.
It was my turn to be impressed; it wasn't, in any circle I'd ever known, considered a well known movie. "Yeah." I grinned that stupid grin you get when you're connecting with someone so well you could practically be reading each others' minds.
"Did you like it?" And just like that we were back in that serious moment; him leaning in to me but this time not charged just pleasant.
"It was creepy."
"Yeah," he sighed, "The French can outdo every American horror film with a flick of a pinky finger." He took a loud breath, or was it just because he was so close that it seemed loud? "You see so little, it's much more effective."
"It's a haunting movie. Everything about it…" I trailed off, "Do you think Billy Idol saw it?" I was trying to bring us back to easy chatter.
"Oh, I know he did," the right side of his grin pulled up. "How could he not have? It's far too coincidental." He pulled back slightly, and I noticed his hand was shaking slightly. Was he nervous? "But speaking of the French translations of human features…"
And we were off, back into our studies.
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Renee arrived home an hour after Edward had left and she looked worse for wear. Her hair was spilling out of the pony tail she'd had it in, framing her face. It wasn't fair that this messy look actually made her look so beautiful. If it had been me I'd just have looked like a sewer rat.
She set down her purse beside me on the couch; I'd been watching cartoons in the living room. Shrugging out of her coat she spoke, "That was the longest morning of my life."
I shook my head. "Shoes?" I asked raising an eyebrow.
"What?" she murmured as she collapsed on the other couch.
"You said you had something to do with Phil this morning and when I asked you said it was about shoes?" I made it into a question.
She rolled her eyes and yawned, "Cleats, I think that's what they call them. Apparently 'shoes' is too vague a word."
"Uh, yeah, what?"
She sighed, "Can I have the remote?" I threw it toward her, her hands were up to catch it but the remote flew too left and hit the cushions. She picked it up lazily and started flipping channels. "Phil needed to go and get special cleats."
"Why?" I asked amused.
"For his baseball," she stated, her voice making me feel I'd been too dense to already figure this out. I didn't say anything for a while and she heard the confusion I'd laced it with. "They're like baseball shoes," she supplied, "I don't know they look like torture devices you put on your feet*." I laughed then.
"Yeah, it was weird. They measured Phil's feet from tip to top, like they were about to mould a piece of art."
"And you went with him why…?"
That made her petulant. "Because I wanted to."
I turned my attention back to the television where Renee had begun watching the news. I cocked my head back to her, "What's up with you; the news?"
"There's supposed to be a little story about Phil's team." I frowned, when did everything become about Phil? Renee hated the news, this was the twilight zone.
Half an hour later as the newscaster finished Renee spoke again, "You didn't tell me your tutor was drop dead attractive."
She'd made the comment sound flippant but I could see the storm strolling just beyond the surface. "Eh," I whispered noncommittally.
"Eh?" She burst, "Eh? That's all I get after everything."
I shrugged, "He's my tutor."
"Eh?" She repeated, "Bella you've got to be kidding me. You've been spending weekend after weekend with a boy that makes Calvin Kline models look boring."
She turned the television off because I'd been avoiding her watching the commercials. With nothing but black to see I twisted back to her. "Yeah, well we just study together."
"Phstt." The strangest sound emitted from my mother's mouth. "And you were going on about not needing to impress him. Tell me the truth, you have to be a little attracted to the boy; no?"
I blushed and she rose an eyebrow catching me immediately, "Like you said he's good looking," I tried to make it sound flippant but the Swan woman were crap at flippant.
She grinned, "And I've been thinking your improvement in French was all that hard work and extra sessions. Now I'm wondering how much work you guys actually get done."
"Mom," I whined.
"No really, I mean it, because I'm thinking with the way he was looking at you and the way you were avoiding looking at him with me there; there's something going on." Even if I didn't look at him she caught me, I could hardly believe she was that good.
"He wasn't looking at me like that."
"Yeah, that's right, of course," her voice was mocking and I hated it.
"You know I could do what you're doing right now about Phil."
"So you admit you like your Edward Cullen like I like my Phil."
"Gah," abruptly I felt stupid, "No," I half shouted, "No," I repeated more composed, "You know I could pick on you like this." Always better to turn the conversation back on the dominate person.
"No, I think you mean you like Edward." Then again Renee was better at these kinds of things, at finding out all the gritty details. Good thing there really weren't any.
"Where is your logic?"
"Logic?" She threw the remote back toward me, landing like before just next to me, she knew I couldn't catch it if I tried. "You see him, what, twice a week; you have to be crushing a little, at least."
"Like he's so attractive I've become a blubbery fool that thinks of him like a piece of meat," I mocked.
"Yes, he is that attractive that no one could possibly hold off falling for him." So I blushed because I couldn't help it. "See I know you better than you think."
"No one knows me better," I replied agreeing with her.
"So, what's he like? What's he into?" Her questions came out in a rush and I wanted to groan.
"Mom," I whined.
"Give me something," she pleaded. "You've never been the typical hormonal teenager. I might never get another chance to gush about boys with you."
I took a deep breath, "He's smart and quiet."
She sat waiting in anticipation for more, "Wait, that's it? That's seriously all I get?"
My eyes were pleading with her to stop but she didn't seem to care, "Um, he reads a lot?" I made it a question.
"That's good, that's like you." I nodded, "And…?"
"Uh, mom I seriously don't know. I don't know that much about him." That was true, no matter how hard I thought about our time together, thought over all he'd said, I realized I really didn't know that much about him. Books and a smidge of family life; wow I knew nothing.
"You've known him for at least three weeks and that's all you know?"
"Mom, he's my tutor, we study when we're together." Or at least we mostly studied, but I wasn't going to say that.
"I'll stop bugging you," She relented.
"Thank-you."
"You're welcome."
"So you went with Phil to get his feet measured?" I made it sound stupid, strange and all together ridiculous. After all I never said I'd stop picking on her.
"Shut up." She threw a pillow at me, it hit me on the jaw and we both started laughing.
It might seem strange how Renee and I interacted, how she seemed more like a teenage friend than a mother but it was all I knew. It was fun to play around with her, to make fun of each other. It never felt mean; we were just honest. But Renee had brought to my attention a lot of things I'd wanted to bury.
Because the truth was, like I'd already discovered, I did like Edward. I liked him as a person and I liked him as a male person. I liked him like I'd never liked anyone before but since this was un-chartered territory I didn't know how much this like meant. Was it a crush, was it more? When do you know?
Notes:
* No conversation at the beginning: I wanted to explain the situation without words spoken between the two to give a feeling of quiet, to make it seem like all the details were kind of bleeding away and Bella was stuck on just Edward. I don't think this really worked out quite right so I may just go back later and play around with it.
* Swearing: My own mother is a crazy swear-er so I just went with it. If you're offended by crude language I apologize. I'm only putting them in where I think they fit.
* Billy Idol: Okay, well I personally, love me some Billy Idol. I saw him live once and it was the best concert I've ever seen but then again he's pretty much the only artist/band that I really enjoy that has come around to the middle of nowhere, yes I live in literally the middle of nowhere.
* 'Les Yeux San Visage': This is a movie that came out in 1960 about a doctor whose daughter's facial skin is gone from the result of a car accident. The doctor goes about kidnapping other young women and removing their facial tissue to graft onto his daughter. It is a strangely eerie movie that even the summary can give me the ghitters. Don't get me wrong I love me some gory horror movies too.
I chose this movie for many reasons. One was I wanted to show that Bella and Edward have more in common than just books. Another was *shrugs* it was one of the most memorable French films I've seen.
* Cleats: Cleats are shoes they use in baseball, soccer and some track and field events. I used to play soccer so I don't know much about Baseball cleats but for soccer, at least, they are shoes that have poky things on the bottom. Does that make sense? I'm not very good at describing things.