A/N This is sooner than we planned on posting, but think of it as a reward for those of you who reviewed. Seriously it can't be said enough that they can really change the whole day for us, so thanks :) Keep them coming we're making a collection so the more the merrier. Again off-the-deep-end rules all betas!
***
"Everyone say thank you to Ms. Swan and Ms. Weber."
A chorus of voices comes back at us and I have to bite my lip to keep my eyes from watering. Angela and I wave as we back out of the classroom. This is why I do what I do. The fundraiser and all of our hard work had paid off and today was the first day of music classes at Meeker elementary. Angela and I stayed most of the day watching the children stream in and out of the room, their eyes wide with awe when they were handed the small bongo drums or the tambourines.
It was selfish really, making them squirm under the eyes of two obvious strangers, but every once in awhile you need that boost, that reminder because now it starts all over again and when you are hung up on for the twentieth time in an afternoon you need this moment to draw from.
I let my hand run along the walls, everything suited for people under four feet tall. It was an odd surprise when I ran to the bathroom to find that I could almost see over the stalls sitting down. No one had told me I could use the faculty bathroom. I think I only mildly scarred the small girl who thought there was a giant in her bathroom.
"We'll need to have another fundraiser soon. They need a piano," Angela sighs. I bite my lip. Getting the program reinstated was only the first step, now we had to try to set up continuous funding. My hand finds its way into my pocket and my thumb swipes over the top of the ring. I can see why Edward is so attached to this thing. It definitely seems to release stress, or that could just be letting my mind wander to him.
"Something small, maybe an open mic night at the Rambler?" I suggest. Angela nods and smiles at a passing teacher. I keep her around for this reason, to keep my ass in line. I would be on a constant high from our few successes if she didn't always bring me back to reality and push me, us, to do more.
I push on the doors and when we step outside a little of the weight is lifted. I slip my sunglasses back over my eyes and turn to grin at Angela. The sun is out which means we get an early out. It's an understanding between us. A day like this we render us useless in the office, so we scrap it in favor or much needed rest.
"What are you going to do with the rest of the day?" Angela asks as we head to the subway. I glance at her and chew the inside of my cheek.
"I dunno. I should probably get some laundry done and Lord knows I need to get to the store before the only thing I have to eat is officially pop tarts," I ramble. Angela scoffs and raises an eye brow at me. Maybe it didn't sound so believable. I'm survived on pop tarts for weeks before without complaint. The strawberry ones are my favorite.
"Like hell you're going to do laundry. You're going to chase after that accountant from Stein and Meyer," she states. I allow my jaw to drop in mock shock. I thought I was being more subtle about my…interactions…with Edward. But who am I kidding; subtlety has never been my thing. My hand goes into my pocket again and damn if this thing isn't addictive.
"I was thinking about heading over to their office, but only to drop off the check," I argue. Angela laughs and shoves me a little. I stumble and almost fall into the street, but she grabs my arms at the last moment and pulls me back up.
"So when are you going to cave and admit that you want to make him number 23?" she teases. This time I can't fake the widening of my eyes. Edward will never be… I would never let… just, no. I swallow thickly and press my thumb even more firmly into the stone in my pocket. I wince when I hit a sharp edge.
I withdraw my hand from my pocket and insert my thumb into my mouth. The pain eases and I pull it back out watching as the blood oozes slowly to the surface. Obviously this thing has an evil streak.
"How the hell did you manage to cut your self in your own pocket? What do you have in there? Needles?" Angela mutters. She pulls my bag from my shoulder and digs through looking for my ever present fix-up-Bella kit. She retrieves the kit and pulls out the band-aid of the month, Mr. Bump.
I extend my thumb willingly and she wraps the band aid around it and then places her hands on her hips, giving me her look. Uh-oh.
"You can't avoid the question by purposefully hurting yourself. Confession right now Izzy. You and Edward, what's the deal?" she demands. I can't really deny the woman who just fixed my wound. I mean I gave the good doctor a date for his efforts. Angela's demands are actually a lot harder.
"We're friends Ang, that's it. He has a girlfriend and we just like to escape reality together. That's it really," I sigh. My teeth find my lip again as I meet her eyes. There is doubt laced through them.
"Friends? So just like you, Jake and I," she presses. I nod enthusiastically. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.
"So you usually check your machine three or four times a night to see if Jake and I called?" she asks. Wait, how did she know…..
"And when you're going to meet us you try three different flavors of gloss trying to find the best taste?" This is not leading to a good place for me.
"And then you chew the inside of your cheek when you think we might call?"
Good lord. Has she been stalking me?
"Yep, all of you give me butterflies and make me think about white dresses and picket fences," I reply with a grin. This time Angela's mouth drops open.
"You admit it!" she yells and several people around us turn and stare. I grab her arm and being pulling her towards down the street and away from all the gawkers.
"No Ang, I was joking. I'm serious though. Just friends," I plead. She rolls her eyes but finally relents and nods. I exhale deeply and push through the turnstiles. The last thing I need is someone else questioning what the hell is going on between Edward and I. I am doing that more than enough. I reach for my pocket again and chuckle when my band aid snags. And now I can't even properly enjoy his favorite release.
***
I can't read anything without reading the end first—not newspaper articles, not short stories, not biographies, and not books. When I was in school, I always used to read the end of the chapters in my history textbooks. In college, I always flipped to the last page of an exam first and worked my way back to the beginning.
There's something safe about it, about the predictability of it all. See, if you know what's gonna happen, nothing can ever take you by surprise.
Granted, I know it's unrealistic. Life is unpredictable and can take you by surprise and blah blah blah. But if I can maintain even the smallest amount of control, there's a much lesser chance of anything really bad ever happening again.
That might be what attracted to me this specific vocation. Aside from the fact that I've always been good at math, accounting is solid. Two plus two obviously never equals anything other than four. Nothing surprising ever happens. It's just solid, steady work.
Solid, steady work that I've never had a problem with before. If anything, it made me feel good. So I don't know what the fuck is going on with me today. Today I'm bored and I'm frustrated and this is the last fucking place that I want to be. I don't want this desk and I don't want fucking Lenora who sits next to me listening to the same songs on the radio all day long.
And I especially don't want this chair. Kara took my chair before I got here this morning and replaced it with this hard fucking piece of plastic. I loved my chair. But her sciatica was "acting up" this morning. I almost told her that it's probably not sciatica, that that pain probably has more to do with the pencil sharpener she has stuffed up her ass. But then I caught myself.
I rub my face and sigh. I need to get out of here. I need to breathe.
I stand up and start walking towards the door.
"Edward."
I sigh and slump my shoulders and I hate the fucking click click click her heels make and the sound of her fucking voice.
I turn around after I take a deep breath. "Yes, Kara?"
She looks down at her watch and then back up at me. I've always wondered if those bras, the ones that push everything up, are as uncomfortable as they look. It always makes me think of how uncomfortable push up underwear would be… for guys.
"Haven't you already taken your lunch break?" she asks. Click click click.
I slip my hand into my pocket and… nope, no ring. No ring and no Bella's hand. Fuck me.
"I'm going to meet a client," I tell her, the lie sliding out easily. "I'll be back as fast as I can."
And then I just spin around on my heels and walk out.
***
I look up at the tall building and almost turn right back around. I don't like this part of town. Too many people walking too fast, with their phones pressed against their ears, oblivious to anything around them. Like robots almost. I fight back the chills.
The tiny bulge in my pocket urges me forward and I enter the building and feel like a lost child. I make my way to the directory and scan my finger down it looking for the familiar name. I smile when I find it, 12th floor. I tap my foot along to the horrible elevator music and grin at the stiff man who keeps throwing me glances. I'm just glad that I am only a visitor.
The doors slide open and I walk slowly into the unknown world of the pencil neck. The office is sparse and rigid, a place that noon would want to linger in. I smile when I glance over the generic artwork and magazines, like a doctors office but worse.
"Can I help you sweetie?" I glance up at the matronly woman behind the desk, she smiles at me and I feel a little stiff. I smile back openly and make my way towards her.
"I hope so, I was hoping to speak with Edward Cullen," I answer. Her eyes light up a little and her lips curve even further upwards. She leans back in her chair, almost appraising me. I fidget under her gaze. I should have just dropped the check and the ring in the mail.
"He's stepped out for a quick minute, but if you want to wait…." She offers. I look over at the waiting room. No thanks.
"That's ok I guess. I just needed to drop off my companies payment and something he left," I state. I watch the old woman's face fall and I wonder what I said could have caused that reaction. I'm just about to apologize when….
"There is no need to wait to drop off a check, I would be more than happy to take it off your hands." The voice is high and irritating. I turn slowly and take in the woman behind me. Everything is pushed and piled into place, and there is nothing natural about that. I clutch my check towards my chest.
"I think I should make sure Mr. Cullen gets it. It is after all for his services," I reply adding a cold smile. The plastic woman moves closer to me, but I refuse to back down. Her face stretches into what I suppose might be a smile, but the skin on her face is so tight I can't be sure.
"It all goes to the same place I promise and if he had to personally accept checks from every starry eyed client he wouldn't ever get any work done," she sneers. Awful woman. Talking to me like one of many streaming through these doors.
"As sweet as your offer is I am sure that you have something much more important to be doing that collecting on Mr. Cullen's accounts. Unless you are his assistant?" I press. Her eyes narrow and I know I hit a nerve. That's right. I have claws. I eye her slowly and feel bad for Edward. I can only imagine how this kind of insecurity manifests itself on a daily basis.
"Nothing of the sort. I am actually his superior," she spits. The forgotten old woman behind the desk scoffs.
"By three lousy months," she mutters and I turn to smile at her. I guess there is someone on Edward's team. I turn back to the plastic woman and smile.
"Then I won't keep you," I state. I keep her stare as she storms back into the office. I can't help but smirk. I hate woman like her, who think that having a push- up bra and a degree make them better than everyone else.
"I wish I could have gotten that on tape. No one ever puts that awful witch in her place." I glance at the nameplate next to the woman behind the desk; Violet. I smile widely at her and place the check on the counter.
"She seems truly awful," I reply. She nods her head and takes the check and slides it into a folder.
"So you know our Edward," she begins. I nod and shuffle my feet. I reach into my pocket and pull the ring into my fist.
"Yeah he had the unfortunate luck of having to deal with my mess of finances," I answer. That would be the nice way of saying it. I'm sure dealing with guitar cases and He-Man lunch boxes isn't exactly in the job description at this place. But, maybe that's a good thing?
"I'm sure it wasn't nearly as bad as you make it sound," Violet soothes. I laugh because I know that's not true. She smiles up at me from the desk and I want to walk around the desk and make her wrap her arms around me. She looks like the type that would and I've been missing a mother figure in my life for well, my whole life.
"Regardless he really did a fantastic job. You'll tell that to someone who can pat him on the back?" I request. She nods. I press my fist to the counter and uncurl it slowly revealing the ring in all its tarnished glory. I pull my hand back slowly and just stare at it. I'm really sad to see it go actually. It was nice company, made me feel close to something, someone.
"And, he, um left that and I wanted to return it. I'm sure he has missed it," I breathe. Violet eyes the ring and then me. I smile shakily and turn from the desk.
"I'm sure he'll be back any second, if you could just wait," Violet states. I glance back at her and smile slowly. I had come here to see him, wanting to see him. Hell, most of our bills are paid online and Angela had to dig for an hour just to find an actual check from the company account. It's been two days and I wonder if drunken me said or did something that kept him away.
"That's ok, I don't want to be in the way. Just make sure he gets that?" I ask. I swallow and force my feet forward. Suddenly my black skirt and white V-neck feel underdressed and I wonder if I will every feel as grown up as these offices obviously are.
I press the button for the elevator and smile when the tiny space is empty. Good, this way I can dance all I want to the elevator music.
***
You know how in movies they'll show a married couple that have lost any and all passion that they used to have? And you know how in those movies they always have at least one scene where this couple is in bed, having sex, and it's awkward and passionless and the woman is almost always wearing at least a bra? And you know how you'll be sitting there, watching that scene, cringing from how completely awkward it is and you think to yourself, "That will never ever be me"?
I used to feel that way. I used to watch those scenes and I fucking knew that I would never let any relationship get that boring. There were a lot of things that I overestimated about myself when I was younger. I had a really inflated self-image.
Because here I am with Hannah lying beneath me wearing her "work" bra—the plain beige one that never shows beneath white shirts. The one that I hate.
I lean down and press my lips against hers and continue thrusting slowly in and out of her.
When we first got together, Hannah used to wrap her legs around my waist and meet me thrust for thrust. She used to act like she actually wanted to have sex with me—she actually used to initiate it. I never had to beg. But we haven't had sex in months and I needed to stick my dick inside of something other than my hand.
Especially after this fucking day.
As if the first half wasn't bad enough. I went back to the office and Violet started badgering me about Bella, and the ring Bella dropped off, and Bella. Bella who I haven't seen in two days.
And it sucks. This just sucks. It sucks that while I'm fucking the woman that I bought an engagement ring for, I'm thinking about purple toenails and big sparkly brown eyes. It sucks that this woman beneath me is just laying there, just barely more alive than a corpse.
I speed the movement of my hips up, grunting as I feel my orgasm building. I wish I could say that I was concerned with Hannah and her orgasm. But after trying so hard so many different times, I've just given up on that.
I cum finally and roll off of her and onto my back. I stare up at the ceiling. The lights are still on and they're harsh and they hurt my eyes. I take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart and once the euphoria from my orgasm subsides, a nice combination of disgust and longing settle inside of me.
Hannah slips out of bed and into the bathroom. I hear the shower running as she washes me off of her and then she shuts all of the lights off before getting back into bed.
She curls up on her side, back facing me, and grabs her phone to answer an e-mail.
"Goodnight," I whisper, but I doubt I'll get much sleep tonight.
***
I try to balance the bags in my arms and find my keys in the endless abyss that is my purse. I really should try to downsize, make my life easier. I find the keys and in my attempt to celebrate my victory I drop three of my bags. Damn. I look down at the strewn produce and purse my lips. I'm pretty sure that isn't going to make of it taste better.
I let my purse slide from my shoulder and fall to my knees, picking up the scattered food. I grab the last orange and hear laughing from inside my apartment. Ugh. The last thing I need is for Emmett to be having some kind of gathering. As much as I love him, the people he hangs with, apart from me, are skeesy. And the next morning I am usually left to pick up the beer cans and scattered bras. Yes there is usually more than one.
My eyes slide closed and I try to mentally prepare myself to enter. I can be enchanting, entertaining Izzy. I can, even though I just want to curl up in my bed. The key clicks into place and I force a smile before pushing the door open.
The apartment is oddly quiet and missing the dirty music that usually accompanies Emmett's get-togethers. I reach down and slide my bags into the apartment and slide the door shut. Maybe I was wrong.
"Izzy!" He draws my name out making it sound like a song rather than a greeting. I wave a hand, but keep on my path to the kitchen. I do not want a repeat of the hallway.
I reach the counter and let the bags sprawl across the small space. For a moment I let myself relax, resting my head on my crossed arms on top of the counter. The cool surface calming me even further. The day wasn't bad, but comfort is always welcome in my world. And growing up with my mother as my best bud rather than my solace has left me to seek my comfort in odd places.
The groceries around me begin to move and I'm not tired enough to think they're moving on their own.
"I got it Em, don't worry about it," I say not lifting my head. A chuckle envelopes me, but it doesn't sound like a bear. I straighten and my eyes meet Edward. He smiles softly at me and opens several cupboards obviously looking for a place to put the bread.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. I'm pretty sure he shouldn't be here right now.
"Sit down I'll take care of this," he instructs me. I fall onto a ball stool, but mostly out of sheer disbelief. He bumps his way around the kitchen clearly confused by Emmett's crazed sense organization, which I have yet to decipher.
"Were you out of common chores at your place so you decided to come find some here?" I ask. I rest my cheek on my hand and continue to watch him. His back is to me, but I can see his shoulders rise and fall with a heavy sigh.
"Would it be okay if I say that I missed you?"
His words knock all sense out of me. His back is still to me, but his words have filled the room, filling the space with possibility. I swallow several times and force myself to think.
"What you missed my drunken antics and sarcastic humor?"
That's me using humor as a defense mechanism. Makes thing easier, keeps the ball in my court and that's the only way I play. I watch some of the tension from his shoulder falls away as he chuckles and finally turns back to me.
"Amongst other things," he smiles.
I can't help but smile back even thought I know I'm tired and my effort is no doubt lopsided. Somehow I know Edward doesn't mind and that makes me want to pull him to my room and use him as a teddy bear. But, I'm not sure I even know how to cuddle so I'll keep that urge to myself. Maybe Buzz can teach me.