Author's Note:
ANGSTEHNESS! That is what this chapter contains. ANGSTEHNESS! Okay, just trying to get it through.
Okay, last chapter I asked if anyone could guess why--after I gave my first warning about this chapter--there will be ANGST in this chapter, and no one did. Ouch. Okay, so, moving on:
The Anonymous reviewer 'Anonymous' asked why Al and Embry didn't show up last chapter. They had, after all, gone to the movies and by the end of the chapter, it was morning. A keen reader, and the only one who pointed that out. Kudos. So, it will be explained in this chapter, especially why there is ANGSTEHNESS [Jessica language for 'Angst'].
So, we broke the record of highest reviews by one. Yep. One. Good job, guys. I feel happy! x]
As for all those who reviewed, you guys are pimpin' awesome! xD I also got new readers. Who knows? Maybe they'll REVIEW and tell me if they like my story. [Hint Hint.]
So, I'm not proud of this chapter. Angst and sadness is not my forte, so don't be surprised if you don't like it, either. And I wrote this chapter extra long--eight pages--because someone said I needed to write longer chapters. -cough-Yodes-cough- xD
Forgot to mention so last chapter, but the reviewer 'alyse' asked if Cassie's hair is long or short... it's long. x] I'd say it's maybe shoulder length, a little longer than that.
As always....
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Twilight in any way. I own only Cassidy, Allison, Tommy [you'll know who that is in this chapter], and the plot. Oh, yeah, and the soggy cardboard box I live in. Hooray for mold!
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Explanations that can't be Explained
The guys had left, a little reluctantly, awhile after we got back inside from our water fight. But, there was something that was nagging me: Where was Allison?
I knew Embry wouldn't do anything to her—it was pretty obvious he was in love with her—but she hadn't come home last night. Granted, it might have been because of the storm, but this was getting ridiculous. I picked up the phone and dialed her cell phone, tapping my foot impatiently against the tiled kitchen floor.
Hi there! I'm sorry I can't come to the phone right now, and I'll try to get back to you later. Just leave me your name and number and I'll call you as soon as I can! Bye! Beep.
I hung up and placed the phone back on its cradle. Her and Embry were probably just out having fun, doing…stuff.
I made me a bowl of popcorn and went to the living room and plopped down on the couch. I flipped the channels until I saw that Parental Control was on. I positively loved that show. As I got caught up in the lives of two parents and their son who had a shabby girlfriend, I didn't notice Al until she spoke.
"You have a good time yesterday?"
"Gah!" I jumped, popcorn flying everywhere. I was about to scold her when I took in her appearance: her hair was unbrushed, eyes puffy with dark rings under them, skin sallow, and overall absolutely drained. "What's wrong?" I will kill that idiot if he hurt her.
Al just bit her lip and fumbled with her fingertips. I cleared the scattered popcorn off of the couch and patted the seat next to me. Faster than I could blink, Ally ran over to me and wrapped her arms around my neck, sobbing. I rubbed her back, making comforting noises like my mother used to do for me. For over a hour, I rocked her back and forth as she sobbed wordlessly. I hated seeing her like this, but I knew better than to pester her; she would tell me when she was ready.
"C-Cassie?" she hiccuped painfully. "Can I t-tell you n-now?" I squeezed her shoulders tighter, and they felt like nothing more than bird bones under my small hands.
"Of course, Al," I said, almost sternly. "You can tell me anything." She laughed, a short, harsh bark, and that scared me more than anything else.
"It's over, Cassidy." Al said callously. I could only look at her, confusion etched on my features evident. "What's over, Al?"
"I don't know, Cass. The world. Life. It's all over," Her expression was brutal, her blue eyes dark as they glared at me. "I fell for him, Cass. He was no fling for me; he was the real thing, and I broke up with him." It took me a moment to process the words that came from her mouth. But they sounded as if they belonged to someone else, not my fun-loving best friend. They were harsh, ugly words.
But then I understood what she was saying—and meant.
"You broke up with Embry?" I whispered. I couldn't imagine it. Sure, there were times he really annoyed me, and they had known each other only for a few weeks, but trying to picture one without the other…it was unfathomable.
She nodded her head—a quick, rigid jerk of the neck—and pulled away from my grasp. "Yes, I broke up with him. Not even two hours ago, and, God, Cassidy, it's killing me." Her voice dropped low, an almost guttural sound, and I was really scared for my friend. Never had I seen her, nor anyone, like this before. Pain was engraved on her face, carved into her eyes. I listened as she spoke, straining to catch each word and their cryptic meanings. They picked up quickly, her face turning pink and her forehead getting damp from perspiration. "And, to think, not twenty-four hours ago, everything in my life was perfect. Perfect! The first time in my life, and it was felled with one single swoop.
"Last night was so wonderful. Embry had to take me to his house because of the rain, and I couldn't have been any happier. I mean, who wouldn't kill to have such time with the person you love? But then, this morning, what he told me….
"Love. Love is such a funny thing, wouldn't you agree? It can make you feel like your on top of the world, and it can cut you down into tiny pieces until you're reduced to nothing. Love? What is love? I know Embry is the one, hell, the only one for me, but to be with him in such conditions? To risk everything else I love for him?
"There will be no one else; it will always be just him. When I close my eyes, he's there. In my dreams, he's there. When I watch TV, he's there. Hell! It doesn't matter if I'm reading a book or listening to music, it always leads back to him. My life is a tangle of thread, and no matter which end I grab, which trail I choose to follow, he's at the end of every single damn one of them.
"My life, there is no life without him. But I'll be damned if I risk all the other ones I love for him. You? You'll always be in danger, especially with Paul, with his temper. My parents? You know how snippy they could be, and one snooty comment from them and he could go off. What if I had kids? He'll be their father, and they'll be in constant danger. They will inherit it, too, and put other people in danger. There is no way I could live with the guilt that will be heaped upon me." At the end of her rant, I was wide eyed, and my mouth was shaped in a perfect 'o'. Nothing made sense to me, but I knew that it should make sense, that there was something I was missing, some vital piece of information.
"Ally," I started, looking for the right things to say. "You know Embry loves you," I paused when Allison flinched at the mere mention of his name. "And you love him. Al, there's been changes in you in these past few weeks, and for the better. You don't go out partying with losers, you don't get drink—hell, you haven't even touched a beer since you two met! Now, Allison, you have to get over what ever obstacle you two are going through an—"
"You just don't understand!" she shrieked hysterically. I reached over and grabbed her balled fist into my hand, uncurling her long fingers from sheathing themselves into her skin.
"Help me understand then, Ally. Nothing fits together. What you're talking about, nothing makes sense. I've never met two people who were so…right for each other like you two, and you're going to throw it all away because of some problem and not even try to work it out? That doesn't sound like the Allison I've known all my life." I said. She bit her lip, and blinked away the glistening tears.
"It's because this is something I've never come across, and isn't something you can examine under a microscope and just learn about it. It's something incomprehensible, never even heard of before except for the distorted stories people tell to scare little children. This is something bigger, and far, far worse than bedtime stories."
I tried to ask what she was talking about, but she just shook her head, a small, sad smile playing on her pink lips. She told me that there was nothing she could say at the moment, but I would know soon enough. It wasn't her story to tell. She hugged me, and told me that she was going to bed. I watched her bleakly as she trudged upstairs, her shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world nested there.
Tears fell down my face, resting on my cheeks for my friend. This wasn't something I could solve for her; it was something I had to stay out of and let her do this all by herself. It hurt deeply, and I felt miserable, knowing that I was useless in this situation and all I was good for was sitting back and just watching as her life came to a screeching halt, crashed, and burned.
A wolf howled mournfully outside, the timbre of his voice catching on the melancholy environment.
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When I woke, the morning sky was a light gray, and rain trickled down on the window panes, sliding down despondently. The tension in the air was suffocating, and I shuddered involuntarily. The digital clock read 7:57 AM in luminous green lighting. It was a little early, but still an exceptional time for breakfast.
I walked into the kitchen, the cold floor sending an unpleasant shock to my toes. I padded over to the kitchen, pulling out the eggs, sausage and bacon.
Soon enough, the delectable aroma filled the house, and I was hoping that Al would come down, joking about eating all of the food and not saving me any like she always did. But my hope shriveled and disintegrated five minutes after the food was done. Allison was never late for a meal.
I shoved food onto a plate and filled a glass of orange juice up to the top to deliver to Al in her room. Mounting the stairs with a glass of liquid and a over packed plate of food without spilling anything wasn't an easy task, but I did it. I guess all of those years working as a waitress actually paid off.
I tapped on her door with my foot, barely waiting a second before walking in unauthorized. Her colorful room did nothing to thwart the heavy atmosphere. Al was splayed across her mattress, eyes wide open and staring out the window at the gloomy weather. Her eyes were unseeing, and I knew that she was thinking about something, so deep in thought that she hadn't and wouldn't notice me. She was breathing, I could see that, and she would blink on occasion. I walked over to the small table by her bed and placed her breakfast on top of it.
I tiptoed unnecessarily out of her room, shutting the door gently so it wouldn't make any noise. I just hoped she would figure everything out soon, for both her sake and Embry's.
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I dialed Jake's phone number, gripping the phone tight in nervousness. A man with a gruff voice picked up the phone.
"Hey, can I talk to Jake?" I asked, my voice breaking as distress seeped through my façade.
"Sorry, he's not here," the man said. I tried to speak, but he continued. "He went to spend the day over at the Cullen's. Try calling tomorrow." Click. I pressed the end call button. I would've been offended, and probably would've called the man back to inform him on the importance of phone-friendliness if I wasn't so depressed over my current situation.
I dialed Seth's phone number. On the tenth ring, an irritable girl picked it up. "What?!" I held the phone away from my ear until it was safe.
"Can I speak to Seth?" I asked politely. There was a snort, accompanied by a mocking laugh.
"He went to spend the day with Jake at the Cullen's." Click. I placed the phone in its cradle and rubbed my hands over my eyes in exasperation. Nobody was nice over the phone. And who in the hell were the Cullens?
I needed to get out of the house.
I grabbed the keys and stuffed them in my pocket, and ran upstairs to my room. I threw off my clothes and tossed them into a pile on my floor—an action most unlike me, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I pulled open the drawers and pulled on some skinny jeans and a dark red top. I put some socks on and shoved my feet into some old converses. I ran a brush roughly through the tangles in my hair, wincing at the hard tugs on the untamable snarls.
I walked to Allison's room and peeked in. She was sitting up now, and staring at the food I brought her like she was trying to solve a hard algebraic equation.
"Hey, Al," I called softly. Her head whipped towards me, shocked by my presence. I strained a smile. "I'm going out for a drive. Would you like to come?" She stared at me, and I could see the cogs in her head working, slowly, to process and understand what I had just said. After a minute, she shook her head sluggishly, her blood-shot eyes never leaving mine. "Would you like me to bring you something?" Again, it took her awhile to comprehend, but when she did, she shook her head.
"Okay, I'll be back soon."
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I drove slowly through the rain, straining to see through the blurred windshield. I should have waited until the rain had stopped, but the ambiance at home didn't exactly persuade me to stay. I grumbled irritably to myself as I was stopped at a red light.
In my peripheral, I saw lights flickering that caught my attention. It was a coffee house, and Lord knows I needed some in my system. I pulled the car in smoothly and parked in the small lot.
I made a dash to the entrance, not even having an umbrella to shield me from the buckets of rain. My shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor as I walked in, attracting a few stares. The lighting was bright, and there was the noise of hustle and bustle behind the counter. People sat at random tables, chatting amiably amongst one another.
I sat at a table, located far on the other side of the café and away from the conversations of the customers. I swung my wet hair to my side, using it as a curtain to hide from prying eyes. My fingers fiddled hyperactively with a loose string on my chair, pulling and tugging to no avail. Eyebrows crumpled together, I tugged harder.
"Can I get you something?" I jumped, feeling like a kid who just got caught with her hand in the forbidden cookie jar. I flushed as I met with a pair of familiar eyes.
"You're the guy from the grocery store." I stated dumbly, and mentally smacked myself for sounding like such a dork. The boy laughed, flashing dimples.
"Yeah, that's my name: 'The Guy From The Grocery Store'." He teased. I flushed a brighter red, and he laughed again. "Just joshing with you. My real name's Tommy; 'The Guy From The Grocery Store' is the name I use when I sell drugs."
Heads whirled around to our direction, and I was pretty sure my face was purple now. "Be quiet!" I hissed self-consciously. "People are staring!" Tommy looked around the café, a big grin on his face.
"Let them hear. Maybe I'll have more customers now."
I groaned, my head falling down onto the table with a loud thud. I heard Tommy snicker mischievously. "So, did you want anything?"
"Not drugs," I mumbled. "Just a cappuccino and a bagel."
There was a small chuckle. "I'll be back with your order in a few minutes Miss…?"
"Cassidy, but I rather when people call me just Cassie."
"Okay, Just Cassie. I'll be back in a few minutes." Tommy winked slyly at me before walking away. I flushed, and hid my face with my hair again.
A few minutes later, true to his word, Tommy came back to the table with my bagel on a plate and my drink. Except, there were two drinks and bagels.
"I only ordered one of each." I said confusedly. Tommy chuckled, placing the food down on the table and taking the seat across from me.
"I know, but I've got to eat, too." He said, taking one of the bagels and chomping a big bite out of it. "So, why so sad?"
I started, and then eyed him suspiciously. "How did you know? Are you some psychic or something?"
Tommy rolled his eyes playfully at me. "Yes, Cassie, I'm a psychic. Puh-lease. If I were one, I sure wouldn't be working here or at the grocery store. I'd probably have my own psychic hotline or something. You don't need to be a psychic to guess that I would be way better off that way. So, back to my question: why so sad?"
I grabbed my bagel, tearing a small piece of it off a popping it into my mouth. "Well, see, there's this guy—" Tommy groaned, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "What's your problem?"
"Oh, nothing. I should have guess someone as cute as you wouldn't be single." I flushed even brighter at his dejected expression. "He isn't my boyfriend—he's my friend's. Or, well, now ex-boyfriend." Tommy immediately perked up.
"Oh, well then, continue! Continue!" I rolled my eyes at him, my cheeks tinting pink.
"Well, it started a few weeks ago…" For the next forty minutes, I went into full detail about the summer so far. The moving in, the lame-ass party, Emily's, stolen brownies, Paul, the whole she-bang.
When I finished, Tommy had a thoughtful look on his face. "Hm. Very interesting. I think I know what the problem is."
"What?"
"Paul likes you." I nearly fell out of my chair.
"Um, hel-lo? We're talking about Al here, not me!" I yelled. Tommy blinked once, then twice. "Who?" I groaned, letting my head fall to the table. "Just joshing, just joshing, Cassie.
"So, you're saying that these two—Allison and Embry, right?—are in love, yet Allison broke up with him? And when she got home, she gave you some weird, cryptic explanation as to why?" he asked. I nodded my head sadly. "Well, that's certainly an odd thing to do. Perhaps he's some type of drug lord? Maybe he pimps out some girls around here. I know at least one or two skanky girls who work here part time. Perhaps they know him?"
I smacked his arm. "Come on, be serious. This is a major crisis. Allison has never acted like this, especially over some guy. I mean, she looks like the walking dead. What am I supposed to do?" I moaned, covering my face with my hands. Tommy patted my arm comfortingly.
"Maybe there isn't anything you can do."
I sighed, fighting back tears. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that there had to be something that I could do to make her feel better, but I knew he was right. There was a rustling sound, and a clicking of a pen. Tommy scribbled something onto a napkin, and handed it to me.
"Here's my phone number. Don't hesitate to call me if you need someone to talk to."
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I walked through the front door, shaking the raindrops off from my hair. It was quiet, and I decided to check up on Al. I took the stairs two at a time, and all but ran into her room. The sight I saw made me sigh in relief. Allison was sitting back against her innumerable fluffy pillows, watching a Spanish soap opera and scooping icecream from a Ben and Jerry's container.
"Hey." I said softly. Her eyes were still swollen from crying, but at least she didn't look like a zombie anymore. Al patted the bed, and I eased myself beside her. On the television, some lady was screeching dramatically, and a younger and more beautiful one was screaming back at her.
"I really hate that bitch, Maria," she said, pointing to the youthful girl. "I mean, she had no right to steal Camila's husband like that. What a slut."
I giggled. "It looks like her breasts are trying to smother her." Al smiled at that, but it faltered ever so slightly. "Hey, Cass. I hope you don't think I'm psycho about what I said yesterday. I was just really…out of it."
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, and she laid her head onto my shoulder. "It's okay, Ally. But, if he did anything to hurt you, just tell me and I'll sic Paul onto him." Al looked at me strangely for a moment, looking almost alarmed. But, as soon as it was there, it disappeared, and was replaced with a smile.
"He hasn't done anything, Cassie. But, I've been thinking about what you said—"
"So you do want me to get Paul?" I asked, and Al hit me playfully. "Not about that, stupid. I was thinking about how you told me to, you know, work through it with him; overcome the obstacle. I'm thinking that you're right."
"So does that mean you're going to give him a call?"
Al looked shocked and incredulous. "Hell no. I said I'd work through it, but I'm not going to go all gung-ho doing it. It's going to take me awhile to get used to…the idea." She flinched after she said it, but I let it go. The good thing was that she was going to try, and hopefully things would turn back to normal.
"Well, you guys were made for each other," I said, the reality of the truth making me just a tiny bit envious. "Anybody could tell by the way he looks at you. It's like, his world revolves around you and only you. God, I wish I had someone like that."
"Maybe you already do." I thought I heard her mumble, but then she just turned the volume up on the television, effectively ending the conversation.
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Okay. Like I said earlier, not my favorite chapter because of all the gloom and doom. You can obviously tell I'm more of a comedy person. But, hopefully things will pick back up to the usual manic-ness. So, it's pretty obvious that Embry told Al the whole werewolf secret, and she can't tell Cassie. So, she'll be left in the dark for a few chapters. But, good news!
Lately, I've been fretting that I would have to quit writing this story [gasp!] because I couldn't figure out what to do with it. But, last night, while I fought a violent attack of insomnia when I really wanted to go to sleep, it gave me two hours to visualize in my head what I wanted to happen. Huzzah! But, right now, I just woke up from a three hour nap and I am still really tired.
Oh, P.S. : I apologize for any grammatical errors there might be. I don't have a beta, and I really don't like to read over my stuff. [Too lazy] Like, I read one of my other chapters yesterday [I think chapter five...?] and instead of 'pouting', I put 'putting'. That really pissed me of.
But, back to the usual. I don't blame you if you don't like this chapter, but please press that pretty green and gray button and give me some feedback. Thank you.