Plot belongs to gaara king of the sand. Twlight belongs to SM! Bit shorter than usual, but the next chapter is already in progress. :)
Over the next few days I kind of expect the Cullens to keep hassling me, but I'm wrong. They seem to be avoiding me, but I have no complaints. Edward and Alice have stopped harrassing me, and I've only seen Doctor Cullen once since the day I spent with his wife, and that was just so I could make sure I could stop using my crutches. I haven't seen his wife at all, since then.
Edward has gone back to moving his seat as far away from me as he can, and then sitting as close to the edge as he can when we're in Biology. It's tiring, and for some reason I find myself missing him, even though he is two feet away. But sometimes I can feel his eyes on me, but by the time I look around at him, he has looked away.
Or maybe he was never looking me at all.
Louise and I always talk about our days when she gets home from school. I'm three hours ahead of her, which means I usually get the call around five. Today is no different. "Hey Bella, it's Louise!" She says the moment I pick, and I roll my eyes.
"I know it's you," I comment, idily flipping through my English text book, leaning back into my desk chair. "How are you?"
"I'm fine," She giggles. "I'm going to see Tom later."
I freeze, the phone slipping lower in my hand as my limbs begin to shake. "Who's Tom?" I finally ask. There wasn't a Tom in her future. There wasn't a Tom in anyone's future. There isn't even a Tom in our class. Who the Hell is Tom?
"Didn't I tell you?" She exclaims dramatically, and I can tell that she knows she never told me. "He's my new boyfriend. Well, we've only been on three dates but-"
"Hang on," I interrupt her, willing my limbs to stop shaking. "What happened to John?"
She groans loudly. "He cheated on me with Chelsea Anderson. He says he's sorry, but I doubt he really is."
"So who's Tom again?" I inquire.
"A guy I met in the park," She answers honestly. "He's like, twenty two, and he's really hot."
"Louise," I say slowly, carefully. "I've got to go. I'm sorry. I've got a lot of homework. I'll talk to you later?"
"Sure," She says cheerfully, completely, blissfully unaware of what this means. "Bye!"
"Bye," I squeak out, pressing red to end the call and then slamming my phone onto my desk. "Oh my God," I breath immediately, standing and running my hands through my hair, breathing heavily. "Oh my God!"
I don't know what this means. I don't know what this means. Her future has changed. Tom was never in her future. She and John never broke up. They stayed together. They need to be together. "Jesus Christ!" I reach out, and I pull my bookcase over. I am suddenly glad Charlie is at work as it crashes to the floor, the books' pages fluttering as a few of them fly from the shelves and slide across the hard wood floor. "Oh my God," I mutter again, bringing my fingers back to my hairline. I try desperately to slow my breathing. Maybe this isn't a bad thing. Maybe this means they will have longer to live.
Or maybe it doesn't. She will probably still get lung cancer. John might be so distraught about what he did to her that he might kill himself even before she dies. But I need to know. This changes everything.
This, this Tom, changes everything.
That night I find myself sitting at the kitchen table, both hands - still shaking - wrapped around a burning cup of hot chocolate. The spoon that rests in the mug rattles against the edge as I grip it so hard the the trembling travels from my hands and into the porcelain. As I look down at the white I cannot help but think of Esme Cullen's perfect, unnatural, glittering white hands. I shake my head to rid myself of that image. The Cullens will not help me now.
"Hey dad!" I try to say as confidently as I can, standing to greet him as he steps through the front door before removing his boots and gun. He doesn't remove the bullets, as he used to do many years ago when I was a child. "How was your day?"
"It was good," He replies slowly, looking me up and down. I don't even want to think about how I might look to him. My hair is tangled, my eyes are bloodshot; I'm sure I'm visibly shaking. I'm tired; I'm sure there are deep bags resting beneath my eyes. I try to smile, but even I know it looks more like a grimace. "What are you still doing up? It's past eleven."
"I wanted to talk to you," I say quietly, sitting back down at the table with him at my side. "I want to fly to Phoenix on Friday. One of my friends boyfriend cheated on her. She's really upset. I want to make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."
Like date a guy named Tom.
He looks surprised, and leans back in his seat. The only sound in the room is the creaking of his chair as he moves and my heavy breathing. There's nothing he can do to stop me, though. As long as my mom is waiting for me in the airport in Phoenix, then I'm alright to fly. I've already bought my ticket, and my return ticket. "How long will you be gone?" He asks after a minute. "You can't just cut school."
"I'm not going to," I reassure him. "I'll leave after school on Friday, and then I'll be back by dinner on Sunday. I just want to help my friend."
He nods slowly, frowning and running a hand across his chin. Looking back up at me, he nods again. "Alright," He concedes. "As long as your mother knows about it. Okay?"
"Okay," I breath. "Thanks dad."
I go to bed a lot lighter than a few minutes before. Now I have the comfort that I'm going Phoenix and I might be able to work this mess out and sort it.
The next day every single one of the Cullens are looking at me weirdly. I wonder why, but I don't ask.
On Friday I stand in the middle of the airport, trying to work out where I'm meant to be going for my flight. I finally find the gate just as my flight is called and eargerly run to it. I cannot wait to be in Phoenix. Thankfully the entire flight is smooth, and when we land I get off just as eagerly as I borded. The walk through security is agonisingly slow, and I have to wait what seems to be an eternity before I can collect my bag. But finally, I am staring at my mother across a crowd of people and a stretch of white linoleum. She openly waves at me and screeches "Bella! I'm over here!" I wince, and wave back smally as people look back and forth between us, chuckling to themselves.
"Hey, mum," I murmur as I hug her. I'm wearing gloves, so I don't see her future. I'm glad; I'm here to concenrate on Louise and whatever it is she's gotten herself into; I can't afford to be worrying about my mother and her erratic future.
"Hi Bella," She cooes, hugging me tighter. I laugh lowly. "Lets get you home."
Those words sound strange coming from her mouth, as over the past week at least I've began to think of Forks as my home. Even now, I'm thinking my home is not my home without my father in it. But I simply nod; allow her to carry my bag, swing a (clearly fake) tanned arm over my shoulder and lead me to her car. I have to help her lift my bag onto the back seat before we hop into the front. The drive is short, as we live (or I used to) quite near the airport, and the next thing I know Phil is sweeping me up into a hug, grinning broadly. "Hello, Bella!" He says, and I notice he doesn't say 'welcome home' like he might have done before.
"Hey Phil," I smile, hugging him back. He just grins again, and, like my mum, pulls my bag from the back seat of the car, swings an (actually) muscled arm over my shoulder and leads me into the house.
We spend an hour talking about everything that's happened since I moved to Forks. Of course I can't tell her everything; she doesn't need to know about my injury and I don't bother to mention the Cullens. It's not worth it. She'd just constantly ask questions and I can't really handle that. Espeically now.
"I think I'm going to go to see Louise," I tell them, standing from my seat. They smile and nod, ushering me to go and see her. The thing is, Louise doesn't know I'm even in the state. I wanted to surprise her. But first, I'm going to see John.
The moment the familiar Starbucks comes into view, I smile to myself. It's good to be back here, even if I don't count it as my home.
John is working today, as I had hoped, and is leaning against the counter, his head in his hand as he absently traces patterns into the wood. The place is, as usual, practically empty. It's a wonder the place is still open. He looks up as I open the door. "Bella!" He exclaims, smiling.
"What the Hell is wrong with you?!" I reply, placing my gloved hands on the counter.
He sighs and frowns. "So Louise told you, huh?"
"Yes Louise told me," I scowl. "What the Hell?!"
"Look," He defends himself, raising his hands defensively. "It's not my fault! There was this party at Dan's place, and then we got really drunk and I don't really remember much..."
"Drunk?!" I splutter. "Drunk?! Are you kidding me?! You're seventeen, John! It's not even legal for you to drink in the UK yet, let alone the US!"
"Don't you think I know that?!" He whispers, indicating for me to lower my voice. I scowl at him, my eyebrows knitting together. "Of course I know that! I've been apologising to Louise for weeks but she won't listen!"
"Did you know she has a boyfriend?" I demand, my voice lowered to a dangrous pitch. He leans back slightly.
"What?" He says, blinking slowly.
I almost smirk, but instead I just lean back and cross my arms across my chest, running my tongue along my top teeth. "Well," I say. "She has a new boyfriend called Tom who's twenty two and she just met him in the park. It's the only reason I'm here; to talk to sense into her."
He just stares at me with his mouth open, and as I wave a hand in front of his face he doesn't react. After a minute or two I just back out of the shop and begin to make my way to Louise's house. I hope to God she's there, and I also hope that Tom isn't with her if she is in the house. I knock on the door (well, I pound on it impatiently) and I don't stop until I hear the lock click on the other side and the door slowly opens.
"Bella!" Louise is the one who opens the door, and she squeals my name the moment she sees me, tackling me in a hug. My hands are still gloved so there is no chance of me seeing her future, but that might have to change soon. I stay still as she hugs me, my back and ribs rigid as I wait for her to let go. After a moment she does so, but reluctantly. "You aren't visiting me just because I'm your best friend and you miss me very much, are you?" She asks hopefully. I shake my head.
"No," I tell her honestly, but I suddenly feel someone's presence behind me.
"Hello, Louise," Says a silky smooth voice. "Who's your friend?"
I turn.
So this is Tom.