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Chapter Two...
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or any of its characters.
Bella P.O.V.
After Mom left, the rest of the afternoon was actually peaceful. Grandma got the message when I didn't answer her knocking the third time. I just wanted to be left alone for the two months I was going to be spending in this stupid place.
I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, the pure silence making my arms twitch. I wanted to have my ear buds in, listening to my music, escaping from the total nothingness. I ground my teeth together thinking about how my father had confiscated it; his cold mask of a face, my rebellious cries. That had done no good. He took it anyway.
I sat up, running my hands through my hair. It was so boring in their house. The only thing they owned that could be considered electronic was an old TV that never had a clear picture, and even that was usually dominated by Grandpa. His eyes were always glued to the screen, watching some historical document or a sports game. The perfect example of an adult man who places all of the responsibility onto his wife and others.
Even if I say I want to be left alone, I still need something to do...
There was another knock at the door, and I sighed. I couldn't continue turning her away. I wasn't completely heartless.
"Yeah?" I called.
The door opened, and revealed the slumping form of Grandpa Peter. His balding head had a ring of gray hair that somehow was surviving his aging years, framing his large ears and liver spots. His blue-grey eyes zeroed in on me, and I had the hunch that he would take any excuse to get me in trouble. That was just his personality.
"Grandma wants you downstairs. It's time for dinner."
I nodded, and he hobbled away. I couldn't help but wonder, as I watched his crippled form, how he had ever been this great, big man in my life. In my memories, he was always my favorite grandparent, hugging me, playing with me, and just overall loving me. His old smile, which I could clearly picture as a little girl, was now gone, replaced with a mopey countenance that gave me goosebumps.
I stood and walked downstairs, the inviting aromas floating up from the kitchen making my stomach growl. I reached the bottom of the stairs and immediately widened my eyes.
The table, which had previously been small, made only for two people, had been given and add-on, and now held an enormous amount of food; green bean casserole, fried chicken, salads, garlic bread, and even things like home made fries. I turned my gaze from the bounty to my grandma, standing by the sink, her face looking proud.
"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I made what I could find in the pantry."
What was I supposed to say to that? "Thanks, Grandma, for making me feel like a total prick"? So I nodded, taking the farthest seat away from where my grandfather was already stuffing his face. Grandma took the seat next to me and put her hand on my shoulder.
"Honey, it's so good to have you here."
Jesus. Was she making me feel guilty on purpose?
"Pete," Grandma muttered with a scolding tone. "Could you please wait for us to get to the table? Our granddaughter is here for the first time in two years, and you don't even have a word of kindness to say to her?"
He raised his eyebrows and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Have you forgotten why she's here, Lorraine? Charlie and Renee didn't just send her for a pleasure cruise. The girl is a brat - a disrespectful baby who can't even-"
"Shut the hell up," I hissed. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know enough, young lady." He slammed his hand on the table, nearly making my glass of water tip over. "And you will not talk to me like that when you're here. You'd better get rid of that attitude you've been having with your grandmother, while you're at it. I will not stand for that. She has done nothing to deserve that kind of childish behavior from you."
There was a moment of quiet as I tried to come up with something wittier to say than fuck you. Nothing came, so I just kept my mouth shut, angrily dishing a portion of casserole onto my plate. It made a loud, satisfying clank in the awkward silence.
Grandma said nothing, choosing to eat with a contemplating look on her face. I, however, chose to eat with a scowl on my face, glaring at Grandpa every time he would spare me a glance. His face would stay the same hard stare that it had been.
It was startling when Grandma broke the silence.
"Bella..." she began, biting her lip. "I have some boys coming over to help me with the yard work in a little while. If you'd like, I could introduce you to them..." her tone was hesitant.
Oh, great. Just what I needed to make this day even better than it was - to meet the neighborhood.
"Sure," I shrugged, turning my eyes downcast. Even without being yelled at for disrespecting her, I had already felt horrible enough. I knew I wouldn't be able to turn down much more of her offers. Besides... maybe meeting some people my own age would help to ease the pain of being in suburban purgatory. "How old are they?" I asked, not looking up.
"Oh," she sounded excited. "There's two of them - Emmett and Edward Cullen. They have to be the two nicest boys I've ever met. Their family moved in next door about six months ago. Their father is just a gentleman, and his wife is a sweetheart. One of them has some high-paying job... I can't recall what, but it's enough so that the two boys both have their own cars. The two of them came over with their kids to introduce themselves. It was so pleasant! They have a daughter too, Alice, who I believe is the same age as you. The two boys are older, but I'm can't remember by how much."
God, did she have a mouth on her. I guess I knew where I got it from sometimes.
"Lorraine, don't bother. The girl will just make enemies of our neighbors. She'll alienate them before they even meet her."
My head snapped up to glare at Grandpa. "Seriously, what is your problem? What did I do that was so horrible to all of you? You keep lecturing me and scolding me, but for what? I'm not a child, you know. I'll be seventeen in less than five months - more than qualified as an adult, in my opinon."
Grandpa listened to my arguement with a calm face, which made me want to slap him. Then he suddenly smiled.
Oh shit.
"Okay, then, Isabella," he spoke clearly and formally, leaning forward, looking more and more pleased. "Since you are so close to being an adult, then I have a proposition for you. Why don't you start calling me by the proper, 'Peter', and I will call you 'Isabella.' No more of that childish nickname you seem to prefer."
Grandma gave him an incredulous look. "What on earth are you doing? You can't ask that of her!"
He raised his eyebrows. "Can't I? If she wants to be an adult, then by all means, we'll treat her like one." He turned his piercing gaze back to me. "So, what do you think, Isabella?"
That name made me twitch. But he was trying to prove that I was immature, and I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction. "Fine with me, Peter."
He lost his smug expression, and I gained my own.
Before we could have another go at biting each others' heads off, the doorbell rang, and Grandma shuffled to the front door, calling, "It must be the boys."
"Hey, Mrs. S! How's it going?" A booming voice asked, sounding way too cheerful.
Grandma laughed. "Oh, thank you for asking, Emmett. It's good to see you both."
"Thank you for having us," another male voice added.
I decided it would be better to get the meeting over with, so I put my dishes in the sink and walked into the front hallway.
My grandmother stood, still chatting casually with the two boys that waited - seemingly patient - in the doorway. They were both tall, but the larger one had the physique of a miniature hulk and dark, curly hair falling childishly around his face. He was handsome - hell, they both were. But the other one... he had bronze-ish hair that fell over his eyes, and full lips, for a man... there was something else about him that bugged me, though...
I tried to think of another word to describe him, but then the two of them noticed me standing there.
"Whoa, is this your granddaughter?" The big one asked. I recognized the cheerful tone, so I knew he was Emmett. His eyes traveled up and down my body, which made me want to run up the stairs to the guest room. "I thought she was like, ten, from what you told us about her."
I gaped. "Ten? Sorry, but you're about seven years off, there."
The other one - Edward - raised his eyebrows. "She told us she was excited for us to finally meet her baby girl. You mean that isn't you?"
I stared at Grandma coldly, but she didn't look apologetic in the least.
"Alright, why don't I take you boys out into the backyard - I'll show you what I want to get done before it gets too dark."
They nodded and followed after her, both of them watching me as they did.
"Isabella, you should join them," I heard Peter say. "Lorraine could use some help. She's trying to make the garden look nice."
I heard the sincerity in his voice. He wanted me to help, but I didn't know if he thought o fit for my sake or for his wife's. I wasn't sure if I cared. Instead of honoring him with a response, I followed after Edward outside. He looked behind him and grinned.
Once again, I had the strangest feeling...
"Okay, boys. I would love it if you would move all of these for me," Grandma gestured to a massive pile of cement blocks, all about two-times the size of my head. "Hmm... Probably over to that old tool shed. And I need a trench dug from this end of the wall to here," she pointed along the back of the yard. "But that may be too much for you tonight..."
Emmett shook his head. "Naw, Mrs. S. We've got it covered." He looked back at his brother and winked, rotating his arms. "Right, Eddsie?"
Edward's jaw clenched. "Of course, Emmie."
The two of them had this moment where they glared eachother down, both of their bodies tensing up. It was interesting to witness, but I didn't understand the point of it. Was it playful banter, or were they having an arguement?
Already, I was regretting meeting them.
My grandma finally seemed to realize I was there, and she smiled. "Do you want to help, dear? Or just watch?"
Emmett raised his eyebrows suggestively behind her back.
"I'll help, I guess." Of course I didn't want to help. But if I said "watch," then there would no doubt be strings of stupid jokes made by Emmett. He surprised me by giving me a thumbs-up and nodding, once again raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Oh. So he's one of those kinds of guys.
Grandma went back inside, claiming to be getting some snacks ready for us to eat after we were done. I was still stuffed to the brim with dinner, so I was going to have to figure out a way to politely say no. That usually wasn't much of an option for me. Something in my genetic programming made it near impossible to treat even my own family with kindness. Only a choice few were able to lift my hard shell.
"Alright, let's get cracking!" Emmett boomed, pulling on brown leather gloves. He heaved one of the large blocks into his arms with apparent ease, his intimidating muscles rippling underneath his t-shirt.
Edward did the same, seeming to strain himself a little more than his brother to lift it. I stared at the gloves I'd shoved onto my hands and took a deep breath. I had some good athletic qualities about me, but one of them definitely wasn't heavy lifting. I grabbed the opposite edges of a block and pulled.
It was heavy. Okay, understatement - it was fucking heavy. I lost my grip of it and fell backwards, flat on my ass.
My pained "Guaah!" alerted them to my fall, but Edward didn't hold out a hand, like Emmett did. Instead, he outright laughed, throwing his head back and bracing his hands against his knees. He continued guffawing, even as I brushed my jeans off and glared at him.
"Oh, shut up." I mumbled, going to try again.
He grinned. "You sure you want to do that? You might break a nail this time."
The first instinct that came to my mind was to make a retort, glare at him, do something. But for some reason, I just sat there, thinking, I finally figured out what was bugging me.
"You're a cocky bastard, you know that?" I said, straightening up to stare at him calmly.
He raised one eyebrow, all traces of smiling gone. "Really? And how do you know this?"
"Easy," I replied. "One: the way you walk. It's more like a weird saunter. Guys usually just walk around like any other guy, but you do it like you're on a runway or something. Two: when you first saw me, you gave this appraising glance, like you were checking me out. And three: you just give off this air like you think you're better than everyone else. When I first saw you, I'll admit, I thought you were hot, but with your personality you obviously know that. So with your knowledge of your own good looks, it brings down your attractiveness." I smiled sweetly. "Should I reiterate?"
Edward looked like he wanted to strangle me.
"Okaaay," Emmett intervened, stepping between the two of us. "Ed, keep it cool."
Edward shook his head, muttering, "Just hurry up and finish moving the blocks."
And with that, we went back to work. I managed to make my own system of moving them, by lifting with my legs carrying it all the way over to the shed without holding it entirely in my arms. It got easier as I got used to the weight and soon they were all moved, stacked in neat piles in the shed. I sighed, somewhat proud of my hard work.
"Oh, wow! That was quick," Grandma's voice rang from the window.
"We'll get started on the trench!" Emmett called. "How deep do you want it?"
As they discussed the depth and width, I watched Edward, leaning against one wall, his hands in his pockets. Sweat glistened on his forehead in the evening sun, making his hair plaster to it grossly. I walked over to him, mentally wondering if I was just fanning the flames, but not caring at the same time.
"Nice work," I offered, wiping my hand over my face.
He grunted.
Well. Now I knew why Mom hated when I did that. It was annoying.
"Look, I'm sorry. But you have to admit, laughing at a person you've just met is-"
"It's rude, blah, blah, it's disrespectful, blah, blah, blah," he interrupted, looking down at me with condescending eyes. "I've heard it all before from my parents. I really don't need to hear it from some self-serving chick who doesn't even know me."
Before I could articulate the proper expletive, Emmett walked over and gave us the news on the digging.
I barely paid attention. I had too much of an urge to bash Edward Cullen over the head with the shovel Emmett handed me.
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When it was finally too dark to work, I was so relieved that I threw my shovel down on the ground and ran inside. Surprisingly, I was hungry, so I took one of the sandwhiches on a plate in the kitchen and drank so much water that my stomach was close to bursting. Then Edward walked in, Emmett right behind him, and my anger returned.
"Good work, you guys," Emmett said, grabbing three of the sandwhiches. "It was good working with you... you know, besides the parts when you guys nearly killed eachother."
I sighed. "It was good working with you, too, Emmett." I decided I didn't really mind Emmett. Even if his mind was gutter-based, the irritation I felt around him was nothing compared to what consumed me when I saw Edward.
He grabbed a sandwhich and ate it, watching me with this weird expression.
"What?" I snapped.
"You've got dirt on your face," he said.
I looked in the reflection of my glass. I sure didn't see anything. "What dir-"
And he smeared his mud-encrusted glove across my cheek.
Let me know if you liked it! Please!!
And yes, I know that usually Bella is immediately smitten with Edward, but I know that doesn't happen very often in reality, especially with people of Bella's personality. So, I decided to change it up a little, though it's still painfully cliche.
Asta-la-bye-bye!