A/N: I rewrote a couple points in the first chapter (My time-lines were bugging me, so I fixed them and hope they all match up now) and I edited both chapters as thoroughly as possible.
I am sorry for the couple week delay. I was trying to get a chapter out every week, but I was kind of on vacation, then my 5 year old niece came to visit and I couldn't really get in the mindset to write with her around.
But with that said, Oh my goodness! Thank you everyone! I have gotten such a big response on this story (compared to my first story at least), even with it only being 2 Chapters in. My last story wasn't even close to where this one is when it was at Chapter 4. (It has been dwindling a little since I haven't been able to get a chapter out till now, but I hope everyone is still with me)
So, I have no idea what to do with Edward in this story. My last story, he started, and spoke to me more than Bella. But this story, he's not really cooperating... If this Chapter ends up being shit, please do not spare my feelings. Let me know, and I'll scrap it and figure out something better.
Again, I am going to continue to use my own personal writing, so please do not steal my poetry, especially without my permission.
I'm going to shut up now and start the actual story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or it's characters, Stephenie Meyer does. Also, the song 'This Is A Call' belongs to Thousand Foot Krutch, the song 'A Perfect Sonnet' belongs to Bright Eyes, and the song 'Crash and Burn' belongs to Savage Garden. The poem belongs solely to me, so please do not steal or reproduce it.
This is A Call
...He tells everyone a story,
because he thinks his life is boring,
and he fights
so you won't ignore him,
because that's his biggest fear
and he cries,
but you'll rarely see him do it.
He loves, but he's scared to use it.
So he hides behind the music, 'cause he likes it that way.
He knows,
He's so much more than worthless,
he needs to find the surface,
because he's starting to get nervous...
Chapter 3 - Defending Champ
Edward's POV
"Hey, E, did you really hook-up with Jessica?"
I stood up fast and smacked my head hard on the top of my locker. "Shit! Fuck! Motherfucker!" I yelled. Fuck, that hurt!
After I calmed down and my head stopped hurting from the initial pain, I turned and asked, "What did you say?" I looked around to see who was asking. Newton, of course. He's had a thing for Jess since... well ever since I can remember.
"There's a rumor going around that y'all went out last weekend." Wow, do people really twist the truth? It is true that I saw Jess last weekend, but we only said a few words in passing. Ugh! Rumors!
Looks like Newton's comment gave us an audience. The whole team was waiting for an answer. Here come the omissions. "You guys know I don't hook-up with any of the girls at this school." I don't hook-up with any girls, period. "Jess and I happened to both be in Port Angeles last weekend. She said 'hi' and we talked for a minute. I was actually on my way to meet up with a girl when she stopped me." No need for them to know that my mom was the girl. Hey, I have a reputation to uphold.
"Put another notch up for Cullen!" someone yelled. There came a roar of laughter. I know I should dispute their claims, but I just can't seem to bring myself to do it.
"Jessica probably started the rumor herself. I know she wants me," I said to the group. She may want me, but I'm just not that kind of guy. Sure, I've made out and rounded third with my fair share of girls, but I haven't gone home, yet. I know, 17 and still a virgin. It's almost unheard of these days. I just don't want my first time being with a random hook-up. Damn, I sound like a girl!
"Alright Ladies! Get out on the field and start practice." Saved by the Coach.
I made my way out of the locker room when Newton caught up and said, "Hey, sorry, E. I didn't mean anything by it. Just curious, you know?"
"Yeah, whatever, Mike. No hard feelings," I replied with as little venom as possible. I mean sure it pissed me off that people believed the worst of me, but really, I just didn't care anymore. If it hides the fact that I'm not this sex God that all the girls think I am, that's fine with me. I'll get over it. I still don't understand why everyone assumed the popular jock guy and the biggest player in the school always seemed to go hand-in-hand. I never meant to be perceived as a 'player', but I never corrected the rumors that spread which started it all, either. I guess I just liked the attention of being popular for it. What can I say? I was a dumb kid.
I finally made it out to the field and waited for Tyler to finish putting on his catching gear.
"Work on your curve-ball, Cullen!" Coach Clapp yelled to me from the outfield.
"Sure thing, Coach!" I yelled back. "You ready, Ty?"
"Whenever you are." Tyler squat down behind the plate and got his glove up.
The song I played on repeat last night, to put me to sleep, ran threw my head as I threw the first pitch.
Lately I've been wishing I had one desire
Something that would make me never want another
Something that would make it so that nothing mattered
All would be clear then...
A little high and outside.
But I guess I'll have to settle for a few brief moments
And watch it all dissolve into a single second
And try to write it down into a perfect sonnet
Or one foolish line...
Tyler throws the ball back.
'Cause that's all that you'll get so you'll have to accept
You are here then you're gone
But I believe that lovers should be tied together and
Thrown into the ocean in the worst of weather
And left there to drown
Left there to drown in their innocence...
I try again.
But as for me I'm coming to the final chapter
I read all of the pages and there is still no answer
Only all that was before I know must soon come after
That is the only way it can be...
I got the height down, but it's still outside quite a bit.
So I stand in the sun
And I breathe with my lungs
Trying to spare me the weight of the truth
Saying everything you've ever seen was just a mirror
And you've spent your whole life sweating in an endless fever...
I line up the seams and make sure my grip is just right and tried again.
And now you are laying in a bathtub full of freezing water
Wishing you were a ghost
But once you knew a girl and you named her Lover
And danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer
But autumn came, She disappeared
You can't remember where she said she was going to...
There we go. Perfect curve ball.
But you know that she's gone 'cause she left you a song
That you don't want to sing
We're singing I believe that lovers should be chained together
And thrown into a fire with their songs and letters
And left there to burn
Left there to burn in their arrogance...
"Alright, Cullen. Keep 'em just like that," Tyler told me from behind the plate.
But as for me I'm coming to my final failure
I've killed myself with changes trying to make things better
But I ended up becoming something other than what I had planned to be
Now I believe that lovers should be draped in flowers
And laid entwined together on a bed of clover
And left there to sleep
Left there to dream of their happiness
As I repeated the song in my head, just like it had last night, I got into a nice little groove in the next couple of pitches. Most of them hit the perfect corner of the plate. I kept them coming, throwing them faster as practice grew on.
I was completely in my element that I almost didn't hear coach yell, "Cullen! Take a breather, kid. Don't throw your arm before the big game."
Right, the big game tomorrow. The first game of the season was, of course, against our biggest rivals, the Sequim Wolves.
Tyler and I headed to the dugout for our breather and some Gatorade. I had probably one more go at practicing my fastball before practice would be over. I just wanted to get home, crank up my stereo, and go to work on my heavy bag. I have a lot of pent up energy today. I'm not sure if it's the game tomorrow or my dad pushing different colleges on me. Ever since the acceptance letters started rolling in, it has been the only topic for discussion at my household.
I would have thought that the prospect of going away to college in a couple of months and getting out of the house would have made me happy. I didn't know that I would feel so overwhelmed with wanting to choose the right college for Daddy Dearest. I know the good Doctor wants me to go to the Ivy League, like he did, but I'm hoping to go somewhere for baseball. I love being on the mound in front of a crowd cheering my name. It's the only time I truly feel happy. Well, then, and when I'm throwing punches and kicks, whether it be at my newly acquired heavy bag or a 'willing' participant.
"So, are you going to the party at the beach after the game?" Tyler pulled me out of my inner rambling.
"Uh, I'm not sure. Probably. You going?" Beach parties were the best. Although the weather rarely holds up, it's definitely better than being holed up in a claustrophobic house with most of the Junior and Senior class in attendance. The beach is open and the cops turn a blind eye, for the most part. They only get calls when fights break out...
"Yeah. Should be a blast. Lauren told me Alice Brandon and her friend are throwing it. I guess Alice got into the college she wanted and her friend decided it was a good enough reason to celebrate or some shit." Great! Can't I ever get away from the college subject?
"What friend? Rose?" That would make the most sense. Those two are probably the most popular girls in the school. I'm just curious as to why it's out on the beach. I know for a fact Rose's parents are going out of town. They always make sure my mom knows when they go on a trip so she can keep an eye on the house. My mom doesn't mind the parties, as long as no one drives drunk and it doesn't get out of control. She's been kind of a silent chaperone for the past 2 years. She'll run out of the house in a split second when she notices a kid trying to stumble their way to their car, keys in hand. My mom, the hero.
"No. Not Rose. That other girl Alice always hangs out with. Emmett Swan's little sister." How Tyler doesn't know Bella's name after all these years astounds me. Of course everyone on the team knew Emmett. He was the best third baseman Forks has seen in years. He has a heck of an arm and a massive swing. Broke his own dad's home-run record for the school. Like father, like son. Too bad Chief Swan blew his knee his Senior year and lost out on all of his potential scholarships. At least Em has been able to take on his legacy. "Well, anyways," Tyler continued when I never gave up a name to go with 'Emmett's little sister', "a couple of guys were thinking about getting a match going, but only if you're interested. You are the defending champ and all."
And this is why my dad got me the heavy bag for Christmas. At the last beach party, I made it to the final round, practically unscathed. I had a minor miscue with the last guy I fought, and he ended up getting a few real good hits in.
The cops were called sometime during the final fight. A passerby saw fighting and had no idea it was 'recreational'. I had won the match only minutes before seeing the blue and red lights and the crowd starting to scatter. It didn't feel like a victory when I was eventually brought home in the back seat of Chief Swan's cruiser. I was so bruised and bloodied, Daddy Dearest took me out of school for over a week to heal. I told you he got a few good hits in. I may have come home the champ, but the way my parents saw it, it looked like I fell out of a moving vehicle. If they only saw the other guys.
The Chief is good friends with my dad, so he let me off with a warning. My dad wasn't so nice, though. I was grounded for two months and he is making me volunteer at the hospital after school, 3 days a week, until graduation. I also received plenty "I'm very disappointed in you, son"'s to last me a lifetime.
He got me the heavy bag in hopes to deter me from ever fighting for real again. I know he just worries about me, and he actually does care about me doing well in baseball, so he doesn't want me to do anything to ruin my future.
I don't know why I have to fight. It just feels second nature. I really have been trying to be good since baseball started back up. I don't want to do anything to mess up my arm, but hitting a bag that doesn't hit back hasn't quite quenched my thirst for fighting. I have been itching to get back out there... "Fine. One fight. That's it. My dad will kill me if he knows I'm fighting again." Shit! What the hell am I doing?
"Great! I'll tell the guys later. Alright, you ready to get back out there?" Tyler was now referring to pitching. Practice was dwindling to a close and I knew I just needed to throw a couple more fastballs before Coach called it quits.
"Yeah. Let's do ten quick ones before we get out of here." I ran back to the mound and waited for Tyler to get into position. I had A Perfect Sonnet playing in my head again. By the fourth pitch I felt ready to start throwing the real heat. When I got to my final pitch, I tightened my grip, made sure the seams were where they were supposed to be, and threw all that I could.
Right down the middle.
Tyler dropped the ball and his glove almost milliseconds after it reached it's mark. "Damn dude. That's gonna bruise. That had to have been in the 90's. Save it for the game next time, alright?" And with that, practice was over and the team hit the showers and went their separate ways for the night.
When I got home, I thanked my lucky stars that dad had the late shift tonight. No talking about colleges tonight. Mom made spaghetti, so I scarfed that down while making small talk about our days. When I finished dinner, I thanked her with a kiss on the cheek and head to my room. I was too exhausted to even think about going to the basement to work on the bag. And now that I know I'll have a real fight tomorrow, I didn't have as much of an urge as I did earlier.
I stripped myself of everything, but my boxers and got into my bed with my cell. I set my playlist to repeat A Perfect Sonnet for second night in a row, put my phone on it's charging dock, turned on the sleep timer for 2 hours, and let the song consume my bedroom. I was exhausted, so I laid back on my pillows, but I just couldn't turn my brain off yet.
My laptop was still on my nightstand from the previous night. Opening it, I checked my e-mail, Twitter, and Facebook. I changed my status to 'Can't wait to kick some Sequim ass tomorrow!'
Then I decided to check one more site...
SilencedThought
Dear Anonymous
You obviously love to hide, or you wouldn't have signed this Anonymous. I don't know why you think you know my life's story, but you don't.
And this post was just a poem. A story. Fiction. Creative writing. Whatever you want to call it.
So thanks for you're input, but it was not needed.
Damn! I knew she was still a firecracker. She hardly shows it these days, but I remember some pretty heated debates back in the day. I don't know why she's hiding. The person I see everyday at school is not the person I used to know. She was one of my best friends. I still don't know why we stopped talking.
But she was wrong. I probably know more about her and her situation than most...
She used to just post song lyrics, which I would in-turn download and add to my playlist. It's how I found Bright Eyes in the first place. She posted:
But once you knew a girl and you named her Lover
And danced with her in kitchens through the greenest summer
But autumn came, She disappeared
You can't remember where she said she was going to
But you know that she's gone 'cause she left you a song
That you don't want to sing
We're singing I believe that lovers should be chained together
And thrown into a fire with their songs and letters
And left there to burn
Left there to burn in their arrogance...
I fell in love with the words. They actually hit a soft spot. Whatever she is dealing with that is making her so... broken... makes me feel broken, too. I cried the first time I read these words. I know. Yes, I admit to crying. Well, I admit it in the privacy of my bedroom. Like I told her in my comment, I am a fellow actor. I don't want to pretend about who I am, but it has kind of spiraled out of control at this point. So I put up my front and let everyone make up their own mind about me.
It all started back in Middle School. All the kids in our grade were starting to 'date', which really meant they were trying to be monogamous about their make-out partners of the week. Hormones were in full swing.
I had been hanging out next door with Rose a lot. She would have Bella and Alice over all the time. We would hang out in Rose's tree house in her back yard. It never felt like I was hanging out with a bunch of girls, though. We would talk about everything from movies and music to politics and religion. One time I snuck a bottle of my dad's vodka out and we all took a shot just to see what all the hype over drinking was. Rose did the same thing with a couple of her dad's cigarettes. The four of us had a lot of 'firsts' together.
When the hormones kicked-in within our little group, that's when being the only guy kind of sucked. Rosalie was the first to ask me out. She was hot and I was young and hormonal. Of course I said 'yes.' When some of the guys at school caught wind that we were 'dating', just because she was my neighbor, because of the convenience of proximity, they believed that we were going to be doing much more than kissing.
That's when my sex God status started, the very first accusation that I should have disputed. When Rose found out what people were saying, she kicked me in the junk, called me 'a fucking douche bag,' refused to speak to me the rest of the school year. Bella stopped speaking to me right around this time, too...
I decide now is the perfect time to read her next post.
A Child's Crush
Former love still on your mind. Remembering all the good times you had. You find yourself crying all the time. Moving on never helps. Everywhere you go, everything you do, reminds you of your love for them. Reminds you how happy you were in their arms.
Hold on to the one you are with and kiss them before you lose them forever. This was just a child's crush. Have fun, but do not fall in love. A broken heart now will kill you.
Poem by Bella Swan
Huh... Well this is...different. She never talks about love like this. What's wrong with falling in love?
I hit the comment button and asked her just that.
Anonymous
What's wrong with falling in love?
There is no reason to give up on love. Love is too beautiful to never be given a chance.
If you need to fall apart
I can mend a broken heart
If you need to crash then crash and burn
You're not alone
Also, you have never been a child, so I doubt it was a 'child's crush'. Always an old soul. Too mature for your age. A look of love would suit you well.
I feel like a coward not letting her know who I am, but I'm afraid she'll give up writing/posting completely if she knew. I don't know why I can't leave her alone, though. I have a feeling she never expected me, or anyone else, for that matter, to comment on her writing, let alone read it. No one uses LiveJournal anymore.
The only reason I am even on here is because a couple months ago, I was feeling nostalgic, so I went through some of my old posts. Then, out of habit, I checked my friends page to see if anyone had actually posted anything recently. For 6 months, almost every night, she posted a new song, highlighting parts she believed were the most important and relevant. I read through the lyrics she had posted; all of them as sad and heartbreaking as the previous. I have a feeling it has something to do with why I always see her at the hospital. Only once did I actually have the guts to try to speak to her. She made up some BS about falling while rollerblading and spraining her wrist. Bella rollerblading is a joke. I knew it was a lie, but it wasn't and isn't my place.
I had seen her at the hospital with her parents two weeks prior to that. They were there to see my dad...the oncologist. He can't tell me anything because of Doctor/Patient confidentiality, but it doesn't take a rocket scientist to put two and two together.
The whole town knew about Mrs. Swan having breast cancer 5 years ago, and supposedly she was free and clear 2 years ago. Obviously, the celebration was a little bit premature. I don't know how bad it is this time, but the Swan family is tough, and I know they will get through this. Mrs. Swan is a fighter.
She was my favorite teacher in Middle School. Not only was she my former friend's mother, but she is just a nice person all around. I am truly horrible at drawing and art in general, but somehow my work always turned out pretty good. I know it wasn't because I had any talent for it; it was her. She just had a way about her that when she explained an assignment, you were excited to get to work and do your very best.
I stopped myself from thinking anymore of the Swan family tonight. I needed to get a good nights sleep for my game tomorrow. I doubt there will be scouts at the first game of the season, but I do need to play my best so they have a reason to hear about me and make the trip to see me in the immediate future.
I set my laptop back on the nightstand, turned down the volume just a bit on my iHome dock, and got comfortable until sleep took me over.
A/N: Again, I am sorry for the delay. I know this Chapter is a little shorter than previous, but with the game and the party in the next Chapter, it will definitely make up for the shortness of this one. Then you have to think about the after-party at Rose's. Thank you to those who are still with me and to all of the newcomers. Please review and tell me what you think. I revised the first two chapter a little bit. Some things felt a little off when I reread them.