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Basically we get a word prompt a day and we then write about it. It's a great exercise to keep one's mind sharpened and focused on writing... This isn't beta-ed. It is what it is.
This has nothing to do with Fumbling Towards Ecstasy. Each day's prompt will differ, so what I write will vary greatly as well. If you like it, then cool, please review.
These are unbeta-ed. If you find any grammatical errors, you're more than welcome to point them out to me.
Notes: This continues the scenario established by the earlier prompt "Lollipop". There will be several related to this storyline, until a conclusion is reached.
Today's prompts: August 21, 2010
Multimedia Share: Crackerjack, rancid, swig
Search Google/YouTube for one of three given words, then select a search result at random and write about it.
Crackerjack has been chosen as the prompt. The Australian movie 'Crackerjack' has been referred to.
Edward notices my line of vision and places a soothing hand on my back, ushering me towards the two empty seats near the left end of the table.
Guess who was sitting right opposite me? Scowling-glaring-nameless-blond-girl. Shocker.
"Don't mind Rosalie. She's just… stubborn" Edward says, gesturing towards her with one hand. I don't bother asking him what it is she's stubborn about it. I'm not really sure I want to know anyway.
Edward pulled the chair out for me, sliding it back in once I'm seated. It's like something out of a Jane Austen book and it makes me giddy.
He introduces me to everyone, and they all return polite smiles and quite 'hellos'. Except the scowling-glaring-nameless-blond-girl who just mutters a 'whatever' and continues doing whatever she was on her cell phone. Like the good guest that I am, I ignore her jibe and instead turn to the next person, who incidentally, is Emmett. Emmett just smiles widely and chuckles, sharing a silent look with Edward.
Edward informs me that Emmett and Rosalie are both a year older than us and are dating, which makes me question who his cousin is – Blondie or Burly? I ask him as much, and apparently, Burly is his distant cousin and Blondie is just present because her parents had to take an impromptu business trip, leaving her at the hands of Burly's family.
We all make idle conversation until Esme comes out bearing Spanish delicacies. We all dig in, praising the delicious food and kissing her ass in general.
"Aww man! Don't give me that shit! Crackerjack is an absolute masterpiece!" Emmett proclaims, ignoring the stern glare and quiet reprimand of 'language!' Mrs. McCarty shouts at him.
"Em, I'm not saying it's not good. But it's definitely not a masterpiece!" Edward says, throwing his hands up in agitation, one of them smacking me hard on my left cheek.
"Ow!"I scream out, unable to keep the cry in. What? It's not like I can control it. It's a natural reflex.
"Shit! Bella, I'm so sorry! I didn't do it on purpose, I just - God, I'm so stupid!" he reacts, his hands hovering over my face. He is, of course, blushing so hard, he almost beats my personal level. His family members are all looking on with amusement, and a hint of worry. Except Blondie, who's smirking, looking all smug. I mentally evaluate her status from scowling-glaring-nameless-blond-girl to Scowling-glaring-nameless-blond-bitch. She deserves it.
"Edward, it's alright. You didn't hurt me or anything. Really" I say, trying to placate him for the time being, lying through my teeth because damn, my face stings right now.
Esme speaks up first, asking me if I need some ice for it. I want to say yes, but I also don't want Edward to feel worse than he already does- nothing screams 'This hurts!' more than an ice pack being embraced gratefully. Luckily, Edward is already out of his seat to grab one, and I follow him, eager to escape the watching eyes of the others.
"Such a fuckin' idiot! God, who does that? Yeah, hit her, that's the way you'll get her! Fuckin' hell!" he rants, kicking a nearby cabinet and then hopping around on his other foot, because apparently the cabinet does not take abuse well.
I interrupt his chant of "Fuck, shit, ow! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuck!" by clearing my throat.
He turns around, still muttering and groaning, all while trying to remove a pack of ice from the freezer.
"Hey. You alright?" I ask him, because he's still hopping around on his left foot.
"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" he replies wryly, his question clearly being a rhetoric one.
"Oh come on. Stop being so melodramatic! It was an accident. That's it. I know you would never do it on purpose" I tell him, hoping to assuage his guilt. He's silent for a while, but then he just shakes his head sighs heavily.
"Okay, yeah. I would never do it on purpose. You know that, right? Right. Ah, here you go" he says, handing me an ice pack.
I accept it graciously, pressing it against my stinging left cheek.
Surprisingly, he lets the issue drop and instead leans on the counter, crossing his long legs and folding his hands. I have to concentrate very hard to keep the pack pressed on my face and not let drop it down. With my luck, it would just land on my big toe and squash that as well.
"So, I guess I've screwed all my chances with you, huh?" he asks, looking up from underneath his eyelashes, his usually bright green eyes now a dark shade.
"Guess that answers my question" he says, sighing softly and looking down at his feet. I realize that he thinks I'm pissed off at him, which is so far off the mark. At the same time, I also feel a flash of thrill run through me, probably because he just admitted-albeit unknowingly- that he wants to be with me. As a couple.
I go to him, running the fingers of my free hand lightly across his own. He looks up, his eyes catching mine in a searing gaze, and his hand grasps my own tightly.
"Edward, will you please stop brooding? Seriously. I want to get ice-cream with you. And we will, okay? Tomorrow. I promise" I tell him, gathering all my courage to do so. Edward nods, his lips finally turning up into a shy smile. We both just stand there, enjoying this moment of un-clumsiness.
Our hands are still entwined, our eyes upon each other, when the door to the kitchen suddenly opens, and in walk Charlie and Mr. Cullen. They both stop mid-laugh when they spot us, their mouths hanging open in similar expressions – shock, confusion and just a bit of amusement.
Both Edward and I are glued to our places, and it seems like our hands have stopped co-coordinating with the rest of our bodies. The four of us stare at each other, unblinking, just as the backdoor opens, and Esme comes in.
"Break the party, kids. An ice-pack does not- Ah!" she cries out, in surprise maybe, on finding the four of us caught in this situation.
Charlie is the first to break the uncomfortable silence, "Well, Bella. Got something to tell me?" he asks me, a wry smile ghosting upon his face.
One thing is for certain, I am definitely screwed.