Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. No copyright infringement is intended.

Beta'd by HollettLA.

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"Higher"

Chapter Seven: Sucky Sunday

The sun was coming up, was just about out. The night had finally come to an end, and I wanted my bed—not sure if I should just let go, try to cry.

I had a stiff upper lip, promising myself I wouldn't be reduced to tears.

Edward led me to a blue van that said "Cullen Heating & Cooling," on the side, and I guessed that must be his last name. He opened the door and helped me inside. "Thanks," I said.

He didn't reply, running around to get into the driver's side.

After backing out of the driveway, he drove up to Fourth Avenue, and the streets started whizzing by. The road was nearly empty on the early Sunday morning.

"Why you so quiet all of a sudden?" Edward nudged me.

I shook my head. "No reason."

He sighed, staring straight ahead. "Lemme stop at the store real quick." He pulled over, left the engine running, and ran into a bodega.

My legs that were still bare were freezing. I curled them up, noticing that the insides of my thighs were sore.

While he was gone, I rested my eyes, trying to ignore the glare from the sun shining on my lids. Just when I thought Edward was taking longer than what should be normal, he scared me by throwing the door open.

"Coffee." He held out a cup.

"Thanks." I smiled, thinking he was sweet.

I blew into the opening on the lid while he entered on the other side.

"All right." He put his own cup down in the holder. "I got you some shit for the headache you're gonna have soon." He handed me a small packet of aspirin. "And this is for the blues…" he chuckled, tossing a nickel bag of weed onto my lap.

"Wow...thanks." I was shocked at how...I don't know...how he was taking care of me? No one's ever done that, and he didn't even know me.

"Ecstasy hangover ain't no joke," Edward whispered, and he was correct, but he seemed just fine.

"You didn't…You didn't have to." I swallowed the lump in my throat as I opened the aspirin packet.

"I know…I didn't." He pulled away from the curb. "Can I tell you somethin'?"

I nodded, taking a small sip of coffee to wash the head meds down.

"Oh, there's a bagel in that bag for you." He placed a paper sack on my lap.

It made me giggle. "What did you wanna tell me?" I was curious to find out anything, any tidbit of information.

"Uh…you might already know if someone told you, but since we made it this far...I doubt you know." He chuckled. "I dunno. Look, I did time…some in juvie and then state prison."

Surprised, I had no idea how to respond to that, but I'd known from the get that he was rough around the edges. Also, I remembered what Rose had said. I wasn't going to tell him that I already knew, though.

Only, I didn't know—juvie and state prison? He's going to be twenty-four soon? He must have been away a long time.

"Your friend was right—how I don't fit with Jazz and Em." He shrugged, and he still hadn't faced me. "And with the way Jazz is…he'll be in love with your girl by next week. He'll tell her and then she'll tell you…I thought it better if I just told you." He pushed his hair back, but he didn't bet on Rose spilling the beans.

I nodded. "What—"

"Old habits…you know?" But that wasn't what I was asking. "I'm trying to make as much dough as possible, too, so I can get my own crib. Turns out, I like my privacy." He sounded nervous, because of me, and I couldn't understand why.

Who the fuck was I?

"I'm not on parole…I served my time. I've been out like...about six months now."

"How long—"

"Almost seven years," he sighed. "Possessions charge, weapons charge. I'd still be locked up if I was tried as an adult…" Edward trailed off, coming to a stop at a red light.

"I'm sorry that happened," I whispered.

"I'm careful now…I don't push as much weight as I used to." He doesn't sell as much now, so how much was he selling at…sixteen? Seventeen?

"Why even…do it now?" I wondered aloud.

"Because—" He stopped talking, and we rode in silence for quite a few blocks. When we were officially deep into Bay Ridge, he turned to me. "You gonna tell me where you live? Or, you scared to now?"

"I'm on 84th Street…right here on the avenue." I pointed.

"I'm a quiet guy, but your silence is deafening at the moment."

I reached over to place my hand on his bicep. "I don't know what to say." It was the truth.

"No thoughts about what I just told you?" He quirked a brow. "It's no secret, and I only told you because I knew someone else would. You're not mad I didn't tell you before we fucked?" His words took that tone, were harsh.

"No," I said. "Tonight was insane. I can't even…you know?" I faced him, and I knew he was waiting for me to judge him; meanwhile, I missed his lips against mine. "Last night was nuts…a blast. I'm not angry. There's…a lot you don't know about me." But that was a lie since there's not much to me.

"You're a convicted felon, too?" he rolled his eyes, and I had no idea where his attitude came from. I haven't judged him, and I don't plan to.

"No." I blew out a breath. "We just don't know each other. I knew…that I wanted tonight with you, knowing there wouldn't be any more nights." I wanted him to know that I knew the deal, was cool about things. "But, thank you for telling me before someone else did." I munched on my lip, nervously, wondering and hoping, praying that he'd tell me I was wrong—that I'd see him again, that he wanted my phone number, that he wanted to see me again.

"Wow…I'm flattered." He placed his hand on his chest. "Am I your first one-night stand? You used—chose me to sow your wild oats?"

That felt like a kick to the junk, and I wanted to deny it—tell him I thought he was special—but he never gave me a chance.

And maybe that was a good thing.

"Was it all right? How'd I do?" Edward chuckled, quickly pulling up in front of my apartment. "Was I a good fuck at least?" He was smiling so wide, his tone clipped.

First Edward was angry, and now it's a joke to him?

I didn't understand, but the longer I sat here, the more I threatened to break down.

I was stuck for an answer anyway. "Yeah…Thanks for…everything," I whispered.

"Don't thank me." He still wouldn't look at me.

"Have a nice day." I hopped from the van, and I almost spilled the coffee, but I had to run.

The faster I made it into my hallway the better.

And as soon as I entered, I sat on the steps, wishing I could cry—feeling that pit, this hole in my stomach and yet it was weird...because I was empty…something I'm already used to.

After a few minutes, I picked myself up and slowly ascended the stairs.

My stomach was sour as I threw myself into my bed. No one was home, there were no messages on the machine, nor were there any notes from my mother...

Still awake at seven and knowing Alice might still be up, I went into the kitchen to call her while I gulped a glass of water from the tap.

"Hello?" Alice sounded horrible.

"Hey…" My voice was just as raspy as I lit a cigarette. It hit the spot, filled something inside of me, and…my mother could have walked in right now; I wouldn't give a fuck.

"Fucking…suicidal Sunday, man. I feel like garbage." She drawled. "I can't fall asleep. I smoked the rest of that clip…Jasper was sweet. We were IM'ing before."

"Yeah, how'd that go?" I asked, opening the kitchen window.

"He's…a reason to smile." She let out a giggle. "He's taking me to dinner and a movie tomorrow night. I don't know how or when…I should tell him my age. I'll have to hide my birthday from him," she hummed.

"I wouldn't worry about it. By next week, you'll be eighteen, and…" I didn't want to tell her that Edward knew my age, and that Jasper might not care because Edward didn't. But I wasn't sure.

"What happened with you and…roughneck? Your boy from the 'hood?" She had a smile in her tone. "He's…fuckin' hawt!"

Her enthusiasm made me grin; my thoughts made me frown just as fast—when I realized how true my earlier assessment was.

There'd be no other nights like tonight...

We never even exchanged numbers, nothing.

"Um…we fucked. No big deal," I lied.

It was a huge deal . . . now.

At the club, I swore I was going to be a woman—act grown and be mature—and leave my heart at the door.

When the fuck did I hand it over? Give it to him instead?

I talked the talk, walked the walk, and now I'm walking funny…unable to deal.

She gasped. "You actually went through with it? Oh my God! How was it?"

"Phenomenal . . ." I put my cigarette out in that same glass of water.

"But…are you okay?" she hedged. "You…you don't sound good; meanwhile, you gave me sound advice…telling me not to sleep with Jasper. Why did you—"

"I wanted to." I cringed. "I don't know, but I don't regret it. I'm just tired, you know?"

"Oh…want me to come over? I'll just leave a note for my parents. They won't care if I'm at your house," she rambled away.

"I'm all right. I have to open with fucking Jake…Thank God, we close early today." I slumped against the sink.

"Oh, now you don't like him?"

I couldn't even imagine where I'd fit Jake in my head right now, Edward owning every thought. "I'm over it," I said. "Lemme go so I can shower…whatever."

"Girl, I want deets later—all the nitty-gritty details." She squealed. "Maybe I never had any…home runs, but that guy…" She whistled. "He's got that bad boy vibe—he's totally on a whole'notha level. I bet it was raunchy and sexy, and his body was—"

"Alice…" She made me giggle. "It…was." That lump in my throat was bigger. "I'll call you later."

"Okay," she sighed.

I slammed the phone onto its base and went back into my bedroom.

On the fire escape, I rolled myself a joint, only taking two hits before I got back in bed.

Feeling mellowed, I actually hoped I'd fall asleep—sleep through my alarm, not go to work, so Mr. Hale can fire me.

But I had no luck with that.

Dreading the thought—and after nearly an hour of looking into space—I took a very long shower. The munchies were a godsend, and I ate that bagel, ensuring I wouldn't puke my guts out in a while.

An Ecstasy hangover is worse than an alcoholic one. There are things you can do that'll help, but it's not like popping a few aspirin, resting, and then you're okay.

With X, you're fucked for at least a day, sometimes two depending on how much you take. But you're not stay-at-home and in-bed sick-sick; you can still function, although you're miserable.

The head meds helped to prevent my headache, but I was stuck in a state of nothingness—regardless of the weed, I couldn't sleep and I knew I wouldn't.

There's essentially no sleeping it off, like one could with liquor.

And on top of losing my heart somewhere…my mood was fucked.

Or, maybe I'm taking it this hard because of the depression?

Even so, I normally get by.

Times prior to this, I always thought the hangover was worth all the fun I'd had the night before—a small price to pay for feeling so fantastic, so amazingly happy.

This morning, however, I swore I'd never do it again.

Just as I was leaving, I heard my mother walking up the stairs. She was early, and I cringed in place, placing my sunglasses on rapidly. "Hey…" I met her on the steps. "I gotta run—gonna be late."

"Oh…" She frowned. "I bought eggs—thought I'd make us all a nice breakfast, and we could talk. Phil's on his way, looking for a parking spot."

"I'll…probably be home tonight." I nodded, but now I wasn't sure.

If Phil's going to be here…fuck that shit.

"Good." She smiled.

I managed to give her a smile as I left the building.

No sooner than I reached the corner, I heard "Bella!"

I whipped around to look at our window.

"I forgot. Later, Phil's taking me to—"

"Okay!" I hollered back, and I didn't wait for a response.

The walk to work was slow. I'm sure my music would have helped, but I couldn't even muster up the enthusiasm to press play.

Jake was just pushing the gate up when I approached the store.

"Hey, you." He smiled.

I waved, not saying much.

The morning dragged. There was one sale between the time we opened and one p.m. I have no idea why Carvel has to open so early on Sundays. People go to church, sleep late, and no one wants ice cream for breakfast.

Luckily, Jake didn't bitch when I took an hour snooze in the dry stock room. Well, I wasn't really sleeping; just resting my eyes.

As always, I told him I owed him one, and I even smiled.

When three o'clock hit, I contemplated turning in my apron again, like I do every Sunday I work.

"You really look like shit," Jake said.

I snorted, refilling a milk jug. "That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me." I adjusted my shades. It was awfully bright in this bitch, and my pupils might still be dilated. Fuck if I knew or cared.

"I try." Jake touched my cheek.

I turned away from him; his fingers stank like bananas.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine." Just the sight of him made me sick today, like it was homicidal Sunday.

"How much did you drink last night?" he asked.

"I didn't drink."

Only, I did—I had a couple of screwdrivers, did one and a half tabs of X, and I smoked tiny bits of weed a few times.

Funny how all of those combined add up to nothing—I was still empty.

But my thighs…my nether region was still sore, so at least I felt something.

"Are you getting sick?" Jake furrowed his brow, and then he answered the phone when it rang. "Oh, hey…yeah, she's right here." He handed me the phone.

"Rose?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Hey, what's up?" I smiled.

"Bells?" It was my mother, and when I realized that, Jake cracked himself up. He's such a fucking child. "I'm heading out now, but we won't be too late—"

"Phil's staying over?" I asked.

"Well…" She paused.

"It's fine, Mom…really. I'll see you later." I hung up, racking my brain for an excuse to stay out all night. Maybe I could truly stay over Alice's? Even if her parents are home, they won't care.

Nobody fucking cares.

And that thought made me queasy.

I didn't fucking care either.

Not anymore.

Because nothing mattered.

I had that same thought last night, but it meant something totally different today.

Down in the dumps, I went out back to smoke a cigarette, zone out for a while and smoke another one.

"Fuck." I noticed I only had two left as I placed my lighter in the pack.

When I came back in, I paused, afraid to move.

Emmett—Dimples—stood at the counter, and my only hope was that Edward was here, too.

"Bella, hey!" He came over to kiss my cheek, and no one else was with him.

I smiled but didn't mean it. "Uh, Rose isn't here."

"Oh…um, I didn't come here to see her, actually."

I didn't say anything, and I didn't know what to think—stuck on dumb for a minute.

"I don't know what I'm doing here." He chuckled, nervous-like. "I just wanted to say hello. We split up, and I never saw you again…and you've been on my mind." Emmett rubbed his hand up my bicep. "I needed to see you again."

"You wanted to see me?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, you, gorgeous." He palmed my cheek.

"Why?" I pushed his paw away from my face.

He smirked, grabbing my hand. "I thought we'd hang out—"

I stepped back. "You sleep with my best friend, I fuck your cousin, and you're here to see me?"

"Whoa!" He waved his hands. "I never slept with Rose," he whispered. "She tell you that...? Bella, we didn't."

I didn't say anything.

"We didn't. On my life, Bella." He did the Sign of the Cross. "I drank too much and we talked…Rose told me she couldn't go home for some reason, but I went to sleep, passed out." He shrugged. "Wait…you and Edward? My cousin? You and him?" he spluttered. "You and—"

I palmed my forehead. "I'm surprised we didn't wake you up." I grinned, even if it was fake, up to him.

He pursed his lips. "You sure you wanna get mixed up with that?"

Technically, I wasn't mixed up with anything. We had a good time, we fucked, and now it's over. "Mixed up? It was one night. We chilled...Regardless, how is that your business?" I asked.

Emmett laughed. "You know what…? I must have gotten my signals crossed." He was lying through his teeth. Dimples saw me slobbering all over Edward while he did whatever with Rose. He must have known I was fucked-up and not interested, and I wasn't even flirting. "You're a smart cookie, though…keep it at one night," he said.

"Just don't fuck with my friend, okay?" And here I thought he was the sweet one. "You're not into her…Whatever youse did or didn't do, it was what it was…" I stepped behind the counter.

With the way Rose gets down, I didn't think she'd care whether or not she heard from Emmett again. However, if I fucked around with Dimples—which I have absolutely no desire to—I'd never live it down.

"Can't blame a guy a for trying, beautiful." He tapped on my visor. "You're a little sweetie . . . take care of yourself."

"You, too," I whispered to his retreating form.

"Maybe I'll see you around?" He turned to me again, massaging the back of his neck. "Last night was crazy. Whatever happened…" Emmett stared at the floor and then his gaze flashed to mine. "It doesn't matter. I'd like to get to know you, for real. We could go—"

"I'm sorry." My tone was hushed, and I felt really uncomfortable.

"What?" Emmett couldn't hear me.

"Thanks for coming by…" I didn't know what was left to say.

Emmett nodded his head, turning for the door again.

"Everything okay?" Jake, who'd seen the whole confrontation, decided to step out of the shadows now that Emmett was leaving.

I just waved his annoying ass away.

"Is he bothering you?" Jake asked.

Emmett barked out a laugh as he left the store.

I wanted to stop him, give him my number, and tell him to give it to Edward. But I didn't know if it'd ever reach him.

My best bet was maybe…putting myself out there by going through Alice.

In the light of day, and from what I remember of early last night, all three guys had the potential to be jerks. They're all young, just old enough, and insanely good-looking. They're not new to the club scene, really.

God knows how many women go in and out of that apartment . . .

They were strangers, and my stranger was perfect, and Jasper came in second for Alice.

He'd definitely give Edward my number, and then I'd have to wait to see what happens.

Or, I could just ask Alice for Jasper's house number? Ask to speak to Edward? Maybe he'll pick up the phone?

But what the fuck would I even say?

This morning was confusing as hell.

While I got all existential, Jake got busy doing his side work.

Since I'm going for worst employee of the decade, I just watched him do it.

"Are you going to do anything today?" he asked me.

"I'm supervising," I drawled from under the steel table in the back. It has a second row that I fit in, and it's a great place to hide and nap. "You can keep all the tips."

"All three dollars." Jake chuckled. "You know…if we had your hot ass stand outside with a sign, we'd probably get more customers." He winked.

"Blah, blah-blah-blah…" I mimicked him, but I didn't make any sense.

Yesterday that would have made me smile.

Today, it was crap.

I went out back to smoke another cigarette, and I closed my eyes after, trying to relax.

When Jake came out to place some garbage in the dumpster, I jumped up startled.

"Geez. I'm sorry," he said. "Didn't see you there."

I didn't say anything, going inside to chug some ice water, hella thirsty.

My little nook under the back table looked even better, and the steel was cool against my heated skin.

"Are you mad at me or something?" Jake asked.

I cringed, annoyed. "No!"

"Oh." He picked up a broom and started sweeping. "Did you wanna hang out tonight?"

I laughed, thinking it ironic.

For two weeks, and despite his age, I waited for Jake to say something—make a bold gesture. He finally does, and I don't give a fuck. Then, the guy I thought was hella cute last night turned out to be an asshole, and he comes in here looking for me; meanwhile, the only dude I wanna hear from…

Jake managed to sweep up the whole front while I focused on the steady hum of the freezers—relaxing once more.

But then Jake was in my line of sight again, behind the counter.

"Bella, we can do whatever you wanna do, movies, dinner. Or, we can . . ." Jake went on and on, and I felt horrible.

"She's busy." I heard someone say.

I gaped like a fish, but all I could see was Jake from where I was, and my coworker was staring at someone.

"Who's out there?" I held my stomach, my eyes bugging out of my face.

"Who you think?" the voice was deep and snarky.

I knew that was Edward, and I made a run for it—to him, to the front.

Then I stopped, pausing and standing still, hoping my heart would slow.

Today I didn't wanna look like an ass; I had no excuse to be silly.

"Hey." I entered the front again as I took off my apron.

Edward smiled down to me. "I was in the neighborhood."

"Sure you were." I grinned back.

He rubbed along my forearm. "I was in the mood for somethin' sweet."

"How can I help you?" Jake asked, slinging a towel over his shoulder.

Edward jerked his thumb. "Who's this punk?"

I giggled, but Jake never opened his mouth to retort. "Want ice cream?" I asked. "Or a milkshake?"

I'd totally slave at the mixer for him.

"Oh, but you'll lift a finger for this guy." Even Jake gets it.

"What?" Edward asked him.

Jake shook his head, looking down to sweep where he'd already swept.

Edward turned my chin back to him. "What time you get out?"

Gazing into those eyes, I knew my answer.

I took my visor off, placing it on top of my apron. "Now."

"Bella, we don't close for another hour."

"Then stamp her clock-out card when you leave," Edward suggested.

I turned, my eyes pleading, and then I realized I still wore my sunglasses. "Can you?"

Jake gave me a curt nod as he walked to the back.

Feeling much better than I did all day, I left with Edward, and I was a little nervous. He was happier, his demeanor totally different than when he dropped me off.

"You never gave me your number," he said.

I paused on the sidewalk. "You never gave me yours."

"Fair enough," he laughed. "And you know there's two Carvels in Bay Ridge, right?"

I looked away, covering my mouth with my hand. "You went to both...looking for me?"

He didn't answer my question. "I'm parked right here."

"Leave it…I'm three blocks away. We can just chill at my place."

"I have to meet your moms?" He grimaced.

"Oh, God no!" I blurted. "I mean…she's not home…won't be home 'til much later." I looked at him from head to toe, and he was wearing coveralls or whatever, a blue suit-thing? "Did you work today?"

"A couple hours. My pops sent me out to Williamsburg for a job."

"Oh." Taking a huge leap of faith, I grasped his hand to hold it.

He grinned, pulling me into him as he slid a piece of paper into my palm. "You earned this."

Knowing it was more than likely his number, I just smiled and put it in my pocket. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Not a wink." He turned us back toward the van and wrapped his arms around me. "We should take a nap."

"Okay." I leaned back against his chest, hugging his strong hold tight, and I continued to walk with him, guessing we'd go back to his place. "This morning, when you dropped me off—"

"I dig you…took your silence as something bad, but after thinking…which…Yo, I won't lie. I usually wouldn't give a fuck, bitches only know my first name. That's it . . . My slate's nowhere near as clean as yours, but you…"

He paused and then let out a chuckle. "I wanted to kick my own ass all day…for not giving you a kiss goodbye." He nibbled on my earlobe, sending those same tingles from last night all through my body. My breath caught, and I tried to recover quickly. "For not giving you my number. Worse than that…not grabbing yours."

I turned around to face him, and I wanted to say so much.

"And I was practically already here when Emmett paged me 911. I called him back from the pay phone by your job...he was pissed, whatever." He shook his head, grabbing my hand again. "He won't bother you no more. I told him I'd break his fuckin' legs if he did."

Now that…that was the sweetest thing a guy had ever said to me.

Thank you for reading.

Please leave me your thoughts.

See you Monday!

Terms:

Crib — home/house

Push — sell

Weight — large amount

Suicidal Sunday — the day after partying hard, hung over and miserable.