Thanks for sticking with me here, my friends. I'm trying to get into a more regular update schedule, but it's taking some time to sort out. I'm grateful to you all for being understanding, but also for letting me know that you are looking forward to updates. Keeps a gal motivated!
TY to my betas SandandSirens and Momma Bear! It's all x's and o's to you two. TY to jajo for being the best Junior Validation beta around, and to RoseArcadia for the forum! (Link below)
Summer of Salt Twilighted forum
And last, but NOT least, to my RL girlies who found me on here, I heart you way too much. These two have listened to me rant endlessly about the characters, and gush about the reviews and the reader response. Welcome, ladies!
Bella
After Christmas, New Year's and Edward's email, I start to truly deal with everything I've been avoiding.
I don't reply to the email because I'm not ready to forgive him, and because I'm not completely over him, either. If I open the lines of communication now, will he respect me?
One emailed apology, following a well-deserved verbal lashing doesn't redeem him.
I deserve better.
I haven't really been writing, other than the random journal entry. I sit and look at a page, but hate my "voice". It feels off, and I don't have anything to say anyway. Some people write best from a dark place, but I just can't see until I come out of it. I need distance from things before I can make sense of them. I slowly start to emerge from the haze I've been in, seeming to see clearly for the first time since Edward walked up to our bonfire.
Rose finds me tapping away on my laptop in the kitchen one morning, and peeks over my shoulder to see what I'm doing. When she sees that I'm writing again, she kisses my temple and refills my coffee.
This clarity gives me a whole new perspective on my current situation. I realize I'm living in a city that I haven't really experienced. I start joining my friends more willingly when they go out, and even start having fun. With my social life back in full swing, my knitting remains untouched. In the end that's probably a good thing, because I will never need to buy another scarf. Ever.
My birthday is on Valentine's Day, which is probably the worst holiday that it could land on unless you have a significant other. For me, this is obviously a problem. My friends take me out anyway, despite my protests, so we go to a dive bar instead of a club, at my request. The bouncer barely glances at our fake ID's.
The bar is populated mostly by hipsters, but at least my entire body isn't vibrating with a crappy techno beat.
Rose elbows her way through the crowd and quickly finds us a table and wrangles up enough chairs for the group. She has a knack for getting unsuspecting dudes to give up their seats. She then flags the waitress and orders a round of shots with beer chasers for all of us. I'm glad she made me eat dinner, if we're starting the night off like this.
After two more shots and a few games of pool, Rose, Alice and I start dancing, and I'm definitely drunk. Emmett and Jasper eye us from their spot by the pool tables, making sure no one tries to get too close to us, but attempt to look casual while doing it.
Between songs I mime getting a drink to the girls, and I make my way to the bar and lean up, looking at what they have on tap. The sound of someone calling my name startles the crap out of me.
"Bella? Bella Swan?" a blond guy behind the bar yells, leaning across so I can hear him over the music and chatter. I take in his face, a question on mine, and nod my head. He's wearing a very Jasper-esque t-shirt and jeans, and his arms are almost completely covered in tattoos. His hair is messy, cut longer on the top and the back, in a sort of modified mullet.
"I'm Mike Newton! I knew you when I was like 16! We had the cabin next door, remember?" he talks excitedly, a big smile on his face. His teeth are white and straight, and his eyes are blue and sparkling.
The second he says his name, I'm able to place him. His family owned the cabin that the Cullens now reside in, but had to sell it about five years ago. He was a few years older than us and we used to follow him around, Jasper looking up to him like a big brother, and Rose and I wishing he would notice that we were becoming teenagers. The rumor on the lake was that the Newtons lost their fortune due to bad investments, and it broke up their marriage.
"Mike! Hi! It's been forever!" I lean across the bar and we hug. He's gone from a very cute teenager to being a very handsome man, and seems to not be self-conscious at all; totally focused on me and not on my eyes roaming over his tattoos and chest.
We exchange stories and phone numbers. The whole time we're talking, he's taking drink orders and pouring beers, but he doesn't seem phased by the hectic atmosphere in the bar. I can tell he's been here for a while and is good at his job.
We make plans to meet for a drink the next night when he's not working, and I head back to my friends, throwing one last smile over my shoulder at him. He gives me a small wave back, before pouring a round of shots for a group of girls in skinny jeans and shaggy haircuts who are eyeing him like they'd like him to serve them more than liquor.
Rose and Alice have been looking for me; I didn't realize how long I was gone. They sent Jasper and Emmett on a mission to find me in the crowded space. I explain running into Mike, and when Jasper returns, he and Rose go find him to say hello. I see them across the room, hugging across the bar. They bring back a round of shots and we raise our glasses, toasting each other.
At the end of the night, Emmett ends up carrying me to our cab because I'm drunk and can't stop giggling. Rose trails behind us, while Jasper and Alice walk beside us, leaning on each other. Rose is spinning around with her arms in the air, drunkenly singing Tiny Dancer. Unfortunately, Jasper and Alice are singing right along with her.
I have an epic hangover the next morning, but Rose makes a decadent brunch for all of us, complete with hash browns, various breakfast meats and a Bloody Mary bar.
We plan to spend the day watching the movies of my choice and eating copious amounts of food. After brunch, Rose puts a pork shoulder in the oven so we can have pulled pork sandwiches this afternoon. We all settle down in the living room, which is furnished with a huge wrap-around couch and big, fluffy pillows, to watch The Breakfast Club. I decided on a Brat Pack theme for my birthday this year, so we'll follow this up with Sixteen Candles and Pretty in Pink.
Jasper rolls a joint just before the Emilio Estevez pot-smoking dance scene in Breakfast Club, and Emmett gets up and runs around the room, leaping over furniture and pumping his fists in the air. Rose does the lipstick trick along with Molly Ringwald and Jasper recites Anthony Michael Hall's lines, embracing his inner nerd. Alice does a dead on impersonation of Ally Sheedy, and says her lines with her through the whole movie. She's completely absorbed in it, and Jasper watches her closely, completely in awe of her.
I'm aware of how lucky I am to have these people around me.
At around 5, I remember that I told Mike I would meet him for drinks, and call him to see if he would mind just coming over to hang out at our house. He's down, and arrives with a case of beer and two bottles of champagne, endearing himself to the girls, especially. By the time he gets there we're starting to get kind of tipsy.
Mike is amazing. He lets Alice inspect his tattoos and talks football with Emmett. He, Rose, Jasper and I tell stories about our early teenage years, talking over one another and finishing each other's sentences.
"Aw man, were you there the summer that Rose and Bella decided that topless sunbathing at the family cabin was a good idea?" Jasper exhales a cloud of smoke, smiling. He passes a joint to Mike, who laughs loud, raising his eyebrows at Rose and me.
She reaches over and smacks Jasper on the back of the head.
"What? Oh, come on. That shit was hilarious! I've never seen Charlie's face turn that color before! He was fucking purple!" Jasper laughs.
"Sadly, that must have been the year after we sold the cabin. Had I known there were going to be naked breasts in the vicinity though…" he nudges me with his elbow, teasing.
"In our defense, we were only 15, and there wasn't much to see," I explain, gesturing towards my chest, which at that age was woefully undeveloped.
"Speak for yourself, honey," Rose says smugly, clinking bottles with Emmett in an ode to her tits, which he looks at reverently. Of course, she's right. She developed years before I did, and in a spectacular fashion, if the throngs of boys following her around from age13 on were any indication. We all laugh.
It gets late, and we're all in the kitchen drinking champagne and beer and talking shit. Emmett and Rosalie go to bed, and Jasper and Alice follow about an hour later. Mike and I are left sitting across from each other, me on the counter in the corner, and him at the bar.
"I'm so glad we ran into you. We've got to hang out more," I say, smiling at him.
"For sure. I do pretty well here, but it's hard to meet people you can trust in this town, especially in my industry."
He tells me about his family and how he ended up bartending. They couldn't afford to send him to college, so he's paying his way, scraping by. I feel bad for him, but he doesn't seem to want sympathy, and tells his story matter-of-factly, with a positive spin. He loves working at the bar, loves school and his apartment, and his only real vice is an obsession with tattoos.
I tell him about the last few years, up until this summer, and then stop mid-sentence when I get to Edward. I try to think of a way to tell Mike about last summer without mentioning Edward's name, but can't, so I just put it all out there, even the part about my virginity and the frat boy in the bathroom and yelling at him at Christmas and just … everything.
Mike listens carefully, looking concerned at times, but not too serious. I like his reaction. There are no flashes of anger or disappointment. He doesn't judge, and accepts things as I tell them, not asking questions. It's nice. It's different.
"So here I am, feeling like a ruined woman, I guess. It's been like six months and I feel good most of the time, but I have these flashes of emptiness sometimes. I sometimes think that I blew it completely out of proportion, like I fabricated the intensity of the whole connection between us."
I stop there, totally purged. Surprisingly, I don't feel vulnerable, though I just completely bared my soul.
"He was your first love," he states in his blunt style. "I'm pretty sure the first time is supposed to hurt, mine did. Still does, if I think about it. Here's the thing, though, B. You spend all this time thinking about what he wants or what he doesn't want, as you perceive it, but what do you want? Do you want him, even after all of it? You see yourself the way that you think he sees you, but how someone else sees you doesn't matter. Look at you! You're gorgeous, smart, bold and funny. Don't let someone else determine how good your life is going to be," he finishes, draining the last of his beer.
My only answer is a big smile, because he's right. He moves to get up, looking at the time.
"We have a spare room if you want to crash. We've got Egyptian cotton sheets…" I say seductively, trying to tempt him.
"Egyptian cotton? God, I miss rich people shit," he sighs, rolling his eyes to show he's kidding.
I show him to the room and watch as he flops on the bed face down, trying to kick his shoes off without getting back up. I laugh and pull them off for him and take in his form. He's Jasper's height, but more built. He obviously works out. His jeans are snug, and his tight shirt emphasizes the muscles on his back.
He flips over and catches me staring.
"Sorry, I'm …" I stammer.
"B," he interrupts, "don't you dare apologize for checking out my ass. It's hot, right?" He laughs and I can't help but laugh along with him.
I roll my eyes at him, smiling, "I had such a crush on you when I was 13. You have no idea."
"Oh, I knew. You and Rose spent like two summers trying to get my attention. Had I been there a few years longer, who knows what would have happened?"
My cheeks flush, and he grins at that, flopping back on the bed. I shut the light off and say goodnight, pulling the door closed behind me. I head straight for my journal and quickly commit the night to paper, before I fall asleep.
I dream about Edward, probably because of my talk with Mike, but it's not tinged with anguish like my dreams usually are.
It's sunshine and light, and I don't know where we are, because all I can see are his eyes, as we move around each other slowly, languidly, our lips inches apart.
We adopt Mike's bar as our own after that, and spend a few nights a week there. He comes over all the time, and I stop feeling like the fifth wheel. When everyone pairs off, he and I talk, and in a few months he knows me just as well as my closest friends. He becomes one of them.
There is a lot of sexual tension between us, and Mike calls it out occasionally, when I'm staring at his abs or jaw line, or whatever part of him I'm fixated on at the moment. He openly ogles my body as well, complimenting parts of me that I've never considered beautiful. I spend time looking at my hands and feet, which he calls "small and angelic". My upper lip is "a perfect, pink pillow", and my elbows are "lickable". It doesn't get awkward at any point, which surprises me. Neither of us make a move towards anything more, and the tension doesn't abate, but doesn't grow or consume me either.
I learn the significance of every one of his tattoos, and find that while he is an eternal optimist, he etched his pain into his skin. Not as a reminder that it happened, he says, but to set it free.
Rose and Alice encourage me to go for it with him, and discuss it endlessly, until I finally tell them to back off. They do so reluctantly.
As June approaches, I start begging Mike to come stay with us for the summer. He can't, of course, because he's a normal person with bills and obligations that the wealthy don't have to bother with. He never complains, though.
He does agree to come out for a week towards the end of June, and I'm really excited to have him there, but worried about the rest of the time we'll be separated. He changed the way I feel, about myself and about my life. I hope that doesn't fade because he's not there to build me up.
Then there's Edward.
I open his email for the last time about a week before we leave for the summer, and click reply.
To:
From:
Date: June 2, 2009 5:45 PM
Edward,
I wish I could say that I accept your apology, and absolve you of all guilt about last summer, but I would be lying.
It was so good. Why did you fuck it up? I probably should have known that would happen, because believe me, I was forewarned, but I thought we were different. Were we? I spent months wondering that.
Did you think that everything would be forgiven after one half-assed email apology? You know better, and I deserve better. You should probably start thinking of ways to win me over so I'm not a bitch to you all summer. The diamond necklace was a good start, but you may want to think bigger, and more heartfelt. That being said, I might still be a bitch anyway.
Good luck,
B
When Mike is the voice of reason, you know we're in trouble. Hee.
Anyway, hit me up on the forum or leave me a review, if you please.