Chapter Fifteen
Edward wasn't at school. He wasn't in the parking lot with the rest of his siblings as they talked and laughed before class. He wasn't in the hallways between classes, rolling his eyes at Emmett and Rosalie's nearly pornographic displays of affection. He wasn't in the lunchroom offering me secret smiles as Alice talked my ear off. He wasn't at our lab table in Biology, where I paid more attention to his empty stool than I did to Mr. Banner's lecture. He was just gone. And for the first time, Alice didn't want to talk about it.
I couldn't figure out why he wouldn't be there when the rest of his family was. It seemed strange, having everyone else there but him. His empty chair at lunch was haunting. His empty stool in class was even worse. Sure, he hadn't been entirely present the week before, but there had been a reason for that. Now... I was worried that it was because of me.
I spent the bulk of gym class hovering at the edge of the basketball court and obsessing over Edward's absence. That feeling I had gotten on my first day of school, that feeling of anticipation and loss that seemed to radiate from my chest, was back in full force. It felt like time was moving slower, like something was off.
Where was he?
I thought back to my dream and to Alice's reaction when I told her I'd had one.
"He knows."
What did that mean? How could he know? And what would he think if he did?
Maybe he was upset about my little speech on Sunday. Maybe he thought me ungrateful. Maybe he was disgusted by my former involvement with Mark. Maybe he came to his senses and realized how amazing he was, how plain and unremarkable I was in comparison. Maybe...
"Hey, Isabella, you gonna stand there all day?"
I looked up, startled, into the too-blue eyes of Mike Newton.
"What?" I asked.
"Class is over. The bell rang," he explained, gesturing to the now emptied gym.
"Oh," I said distractedly, shaking my head. "Yeah... guess I spaced out there for a minute. Thanks, Mike."
"No problem," he replied with a smile, a smile that I'm sure others thought charming and sweet but I, well... it was just a smile.
I made my way towards the girls' locker room, and changed back into my regular clothes. I had received countless compliments today, all thanks to Alice's fashion sense. My boots, my hair, my makeup, my jeans, all were exclaimed over by girls and guys alike, and I hated every second of it. I hated the added attention. It felt disingenuous and wrong. Still, I smoothed a hand down my shirt, checked my hair in the mirror, and slung my bag over my shoulder. I had made it through the day. My job was done.
Mike Newton was waiting for me outside the locker room.
"So, Isabella, any plans for this afternoon?" he asked casually, looking for all intents and purposes like he was checking something on his cell phone. But his mouth was set just a bit too firmly, his eyes too focused. He wasn't checking anything.
"Not really," I responded honestly, beginning to walk towards my locker in the Arts building. He followed suit, falling into step beside me. "You?"
"Well, my parents are staying in Seattle tonight. My dad has some sort of business dinner."
"I thought they owned a store?" I asked, vaguely remembering him saying something about that my first day here.
"Yeah. They're looking at taking on a partner and expanding, maybe opening a second branch in Seattle," Mike responded, puffing out his chest a bit.
"That's great," I said blandly. It was, I supposed. I really didn't care. I rubbed my chest absentmindedly, wishing the feeling would go away.
"Yeah. Anyway, they're out of town, so I'm sort of fending for myself for dinner...," he trailed off, following me into the building. He didn't even hold the door.
"Makes sense," I muttered, opening my locker and beginning to empty my bag into it.
"I was thinking of going out," he continued, "to the diner maybe. Or even Port Angeles. Maybe even see a movie..."
"Sounds fun, Mike," I said unenthusiastically, shutting my locker door and zipping up my bag before moving towards the exit. "Sounds like you've got a nice little night planned."
"Yeah."
We were walking towards the parking lot now. I couldn't figure out why he was telling me all this. I couldn't figure out why he was walking with me to begin with.
"You look really pretty today, Isabella," Mike said quietly, looking over at me.
"Thanks," I replied awkwardly, moving a little faster.
"I mean, you're pretty every day, but today..."
"I get it, Mike," I said tersely, resisting the urge to flat out run.
He got quiet again, matching my pace. We were approaching the parking lot, close enough to make out the individual cars. I squinted and looked around. I did not see Alice.
"About tonight, Isabella. Since you don't have any plans..."
I squinted harder, almost jogging now, looking around frantically. No Alice.
"Since you don't have any plans, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to-"
"Isabella," a velvet voice called out from my right. A voice I had been waiting to hear all day.
"Edward," I breathed, forgetting Mike entirely.
"Alice had to go home early," Edward explained, walking towards me from his Volvo. "She asked me to pick you up."
"Cullen," Mike spat, startling me. "What are you doing here?"
"I am here to retrieve Isabella," Edward replied, his eyes locked on mine. "I believe I already explained that."
"I'll give you a ride home, Isabella. Or we could go see a movie, like we were talking about earlier? Come on. It'll be fun."
Mike reached for my arm, locking his fingers around my wrist and tugging me away from Edward. I recoiled so hard from the feeling of his hand on my skin that I almost lost my balance.
But Edward was there, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and using the other to remove Mike's hand from my person.
"You will not touch her again if you know what's good for you," he hissed, his eyes cold. He moved his hand to the small of my back. The hollow feeling in my chest receded.
"Why don't you let her speak for herself?" Mike demanded, his tone more frightened than forceful. "You don't have to go with him, Isabella. Let's go have some fun."
Edward's face twisted into a grimace before morphing into something akin to fury. The arm encircling me tensed. His eyes darkened.
"You little-"
"Edward," I soothed, bringing my hand to his chin and encouraging him to look at me, "let's get going. Thank you very much for the invitation, Mike, but Edward did go out of his way to come pick me up. Maybe some other time," I offered diplomatically.
Edward growled beside me.
"Sure," Mike said, trying not to look dejected and failing miserably. "Anytime you want, you just say the word. Maybe we could even go into Seattle sometime."
"Sounds good, Mike. Thanks for walking with me."
He smiled than, a more genuine smile, and I tried hard to care, but I was just going through the motions of politeness. He smiled, so I smiled back. He waved, so I waved back. The cold, hard, beautiful man next to me was tense, the anger rolling off of him in waves, but I just smiled and waved and tried not to think about it, tried to keep it together.
"What was that about?" I asked after Mike had gotten into his car and driven away, leaving us alone in the parking lot.
"That boy does not deserve your kindness," Edward snarled, his eyes hard. "He does not deserve to speak your name let alone stand in your presence."
"Edward, what in the hell are you talking about?"
"The things going through his head... I could have killed him. I should have killed him."
"How on earth would you know what was going through his head?" I asked, exasperated.
"We should get going," was his response.
"Edward-"
"He put his hands on you!" he snapped, his voice hard but his eyes pleading.
"He did," I confirmed, eyeing him warily.
"He does not deserve to touch you. He will never be good enough to touch you."
"You make me sound like some sort of deity," I joked weakly, taking calculated steps towards his parked car.
"You are," he answered fervently. "You are everything."
I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at him. Really looked.
"Your place or mine?" I asked.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Your place or mine?" I repeated, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow. "We need to do this."
"Do what?" Edward asked, wrinkling his brow in confusion.
"Talk," I replied seriously, toying with my locket as internally I worried about his response.
His response which took forever.
Finally, amusement replaced confusion as he reached a pale hand out to halt my fidgeting.
"Yours," he said, offering me his first smile since his arrival. "Let's go to yours."
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The drive to my house was both quiet and awkward, at least for me. Edward seemed better, drumming his fingers idly against the wheel and occasionally smiling to himself. Still... I was a wreck.
I was bringing Edward Cullen home. And not just home, but presumably into my room. I tried picturing us talking in the kitchen or the living room, and couldn't manage it. Imagining him in my room was much easier... and made me blush.
And then we were there, pulling up to the curb. Edward gave me a warning look when I reached for my door so I stayed put, barely blinking before he was there, pulling it open and helping me out. And then we were at my door, Edward pausing at the threshold and taking a deep breath before stepping through. I don't know what that was about.
"Shall we go to my room?" I asked casually. Well, I hoped it sounded casual. I couldn't really hear myself with my pulse pounding away so loudly in my ears.
He nodded silently, his face impassive, and placed a hand at the small of my back, guiding me up the stairs. He maintained that posture the whole way, applying subtle pressure and almost steering me towards my room. I wondered how he knew where my room was, if he knew where my room was, all the while hating myself for overanalyzing every little movement, breath, and blink that came from this boy. Well, this man. Edward.
We made it up to my attic, and I suddenly wondered if the bedroom was a bad idea. Where would I put him? Where would I put myself? Sitting on my bed with Alice felt natural, but would Edward think I was being too forward? Did Edward want me to be forward? He seemed possessive and protective of me, but it might have been in a brotherly way... in the way Alice or even Emmett might defend me. Maybe I was reading him wrong. Maybe we should have stayed downstairs, where there were couches and chairs and no giant beds that took up half the room. And my room seemed so childish now, so simple and unlike the opulence of his bedroom with its giant windows and fireplaces and...
"I can hear you thinking from here, Isabella," Edward said as he strode across the floor and settled himself in my desk chair. "Come sit."
He gestured at the rocker in the corner, but I hopped onto my desk instead, adopting my usual pose of crossed legs and hunched shoulders.
"Why do you like to sit there so much?" he asked curiously, eyeing my posture.
"It makes the ache go away," I responded before I really thought about it. And then I really thought about it and realized I was right.
"Ache?" he asked, concerned and interested all at once. "What ache?"
"It's this thing in my chest," I explained, rubbing my sternum absentmindedly. "It started when I moved here, but some things help. For some reason, this is one of them."
And it was. I could recognize that now. Nights when I was restless or afraid, my chest would seem to radiate the agitation, sending dull waves of pain down my limbs. But the desk made it better. So did the locket, for that matter. Nights when I slept with it on, I experienced no pain at all. But it would tangle in my hair, get caught on my skin... I didn't like wearing it to sleep. Now that I realized it, though...
"Sorry," I said sheepishly, snapping myself out of my mental tangent. "I'd never really thought about it before."
"I like watching you think."
"Oh. Alright."
Edward placed a hand on the edge of my desk, his fingers curling lightly over the dark wood, his paleness exaggerated by the starkly beautiful contrast. Without thinking, I reached forward and settled my hand on top of his, awestruck as I realized that the residual ache that had taken up residence in the time between the parking lot and this moment vanished, vanished when I touched him.
"You make it go away, too," I muttered, more to myself than to him. But he heard me and smiled.
"For me as well, Isabella. More than you could ever know."
I didn't know what he meant by that but I was too distracted to ask.
"What did you want to talk about?" he asked me finally, flipping his palm upwards beneath mine and twining our fingers together. Something inside of me flared and burned at the gesture, the sensation. A tingling warmth began to suffuse my limbs.
"Why weren't you in school today?"
"Many reasons," he hedged gracefully.
"Would you choose one and explain it to me?" I persisted. "I missed you."
"As I missed you, Isabella," he said, bringing our twined hands to his lips and kissing my knuckles. "You needn't worry. I will not attempt to stay away from you again. It was foolish of me to try."
"But why did you do it?" I demanded, trying to cut through the fog in my brain caused by his actions and words. "Everyone else was there. Why weren't you? What happened?"
He looked away, his expression darkening.
"Edward, you have to talk to me. You've explained nothing to me. Nothing!" I extricated my hand from his grasp and moved backwards across the surface of the desk until my back was flat against the wall. "You can't just... if we're going to do this, whatever this is, then we need to talk. You need to be willing to talk to me."
I watched his expression carefully. Pain, worry, fear, longing, affection... his eyes kept changing, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He spent a full minute examining his hands in silence, seemingly fascinated by the texture of his jeans as he rubbed them back and forth over his thighs. I worried that he'd leave, worried that I'd pushed him too far but then finally, finally, he spoke.
"I was the first of Carlisle's 'children,'" he began slowly. "My parents passed in his hospital, sick with influenza, and my mother's dying words had been to him, asking him to take care of me. I was delirious with fever at the end, but I remember him sitting beside me, apologizing before he, well... that's a story for another day. In any event, when I awoke, the world was different and I was changed."
He stared hard at the floor, lost in memories it seemed. It took my hand on his shoulder to bring him back, and when he looked up at me, his face softened immediately.
"This is difficult for me," he said quietly, capturing my hand in his once more. "Please, just..."
"I'm here," I assured him with a soft smile. "I'm not going anywhere."
Satisfied, he stroked my palm idly before continuing.
"Carlisle had been alone before me, but when he changed me, well... I rebelled at first, but eventually we came to be a family. After me came Esme, who he loved immediately and with everything in his soul. Then Rosalie was found dying, and he changed her as well, hoping that perhaps I would find with her what he found with Esme."
I flinched at that, and he felt it, looking up at me with concerned eyes. I couldn't help it, though. Rosalie, in spite of her obvious personality defects, was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. The mere idea of her and Edward together had me miserable and furious simultaneously.
"Nothing came of it," he hastened, looking like he was fighting back a smirk. "I could not see her in that light. She was, and always will be, a sister to me and nothing more. I promise you that."
Still frowning, I nodded and he carried on.
"Rosalie found Emmett and knew, just like Carlisle knew when he first laid eyes on Esme. Emmett was mortally injured and Carlisle saved him in the same way he saved the rest of us, and the five of us formed a family of sorts. We travelled together and lived together. We loved each other. But I did not have what the others had... I did not have a partner of my own, and I began to lose hope.
I became despondent and morose. I broke away for nearly a decade, aimlessly crossing the globe but not really going anywhere. Looking back, I realize that I was looking for my other half, my mate, but I refused to admit that to myself at the time. By the end of it, by the time I came back to Carlisle, I was without hope. I believed that I was destined to be alone for the rest of my existence. I was miserable, but resigned."
My heart broke for him. He looked so lost before me, awash in memories that I wasn't privy to. I couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for him, alone in a family of lovers. Without thinking, I slid off of the desk and directly into his lap, wrapping my body around him as though trying to absorb his sadness.
"Isabella," he whispered brokenly into my neck, drawing me closer into his body. "Isabella, you have no idea how long I've waited for you."
We stayed like that for an age, locked together like corresponding pieces of a puzzle, never wanting to let go. Eventually, he stood up, lifting me easily and carrying me over to my bed where he fluffed my pillows before propping me up against the headboard and snuggling in next to me. It was perfect, him being in my bed, in my room, in my life, and I forced myself to savor the feeling, the sense of rightness and peace that was without precedent in my life.
"Shall I continue?" he asked me quietly, stroking my arm with his graceful fingers and sending shivers down my spine.
I nodded against his chest, shifting myself closer and laying a hand flat against his abdomen.
"Not long after I returned, we found Alice... well, Alice found us. She appeared one morning on our doorstep, with Jasper in tow, and announced that she was destined to become a part of our family. And she's been with us ever since."
He chuckled softly and I melted further into him, enjoying the way his torso vibrated with every word.
"She's an amazing person," I said quietly.
"She is," he agreed. "Even more so, though, because she brought me hope. Of you."
I shifted in his arms so that I could look at him.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You know of her gift, of her ability to see future events. What you do not know is of my gift, Isabella. I am able to read minds."
I froze, trying to process the implications of his words. He could read minds. Alright. Did that mean that he could read my mind? Had he read my mind?
Before I even realized it, I found myself in the opposite corner of the room.
"What do you mean you read minds?" I asked frantically. "What does that mean?"
"Calm down, Isabella," Edward pled, moving slowly off of the bed and taking measured steps towards me, approaching me as he would a frightened animal.
"What does that mean?" I demanded again, moving away as he approached, retreating until I was pressed against the wall.
"It means what it sounds like. I am able to read the thoughts of those around me."
"So you just listen to what people are thinking? That's... that's so wrong, Edward. It's like assault. How can you do that? You have no right!"
"Isabella, please-"
"No, Edward, please. How often do you do it? Have you ever read my mind? Are you in there right now? Are you?"
He couldn't have looked more shocked if I'd backed over him with my car, but I didn't care. I was panicked, reeling, trying to remember every little thing that had crossed my mind since I'd met him, trying to beat back the mortification that was threatening to overtake me. A part of me realized that I was being irrational, but I didn't care.
"I can assure you, Isabella, that I am not now, nor have I ever been, in your mind," he said seriously, taking a step backwards. "You are the first and only person whose thoughts have ever been hidden from me and, even if they were not, I would not violate your trust in that way."
"What do you mean my thoughts are 'hidden' from you?" I snapped, only to flinch at my tone. I really was acting like a crazy person.
"You are the first respite I have found since Carlisle changed me. Your mind is silent to me. You have no idea of the sheer relief I find in your presence."
I slid down the wall, landing in an unladylike heap on the floor.
"I can see that I have offended you, and I apologize, but I can no more turn off my 'gift' than you can turn off yours. Still, I am sorry, Isabella, for upsetting you. I'll go now."
He turned on his heel and strode from the room, moving soundlessly down the stairs and out of sight. By the time I took off and ran after him, he was already sliding into the driver's seat of his car.
"Edward," I called, not caring that the neighbors were watching with a little too much interest. "Edward, please wait."
He stood but did not move away from the vehicle, rather standing between the open car door and the seat.
"Edward, I'm sorry," I said more quietly, walking as quickly towards him as I dared over the uneven grass of the front lawn. "I freaked out and I'm sorry. Can we please talk about this?"
Wordlessly, he closed and locked his car and slowly closed the distance between us.
"Thank you," I whispered, reaching out to take his hand. He shrugged me off.
"I think a change of venue is in order," he said, taking a step towards the dense trees on the far side of my house. "Walk with me."
And I did, crossing the lawn and stepping into the woods without a moment's hesitation. Edward didn't say anything as we journeyed deeper and deeper into the forest, and I didn't want to break the silence. For every twig and root and leaf I tripped on, he was there, his cool hand gripping my elbow, keeping me upright, and I was grateful for the ease with which he helped me, never laughing or poking fun at my lack of grace as so many others were wont to do. It was nice.
Eventually, the trees ahead of us began thinning out, the lush green canopy far above eventually giving way to more and more of the gray clouds that choked the sky.
"Tell me about your gift," I said finally, quietly, my tone one of contrition and, hopefully, understanding.
"When I was... well, before I was re-born, Carlisle tells me that I was good at reading people. My memories of that life, my first life, are hazy at best. I can see faces and hear voices, but it's like looking through a camera with a smudged lens. But he tells me that I saw through him immediately, knew that he was not like the other doctors in the hospital, or like anyone else, in fact. In any event, when I was changed, that latent instinct was heightened to become this... gift."
"What was it like when you woke up?"
"Loud," Edward said frankly. "Disorienting. Carlisle had taken me to a remote area, some place where I would not pose a danger to others, but I could still hear him. It took an age to grow used to it, knowing what he was thinking without him so much as opening his mouth, but he took it in stride and accepted me, tried to help me hone the skill as best he could. Eventually, when it was safe for me to be around others, we moved into a small town and I nearly went insane."
"Can you turn it off?" I asked, curious.
"No more than Alice or you can turn off your visions," he replied, shaking his head. "I can concentrate on one mind more than another, like adjusting the balance on a set of speakers, but I cannot shut out the voices or the images."
"Images?"
"Think about driving into school with Alice this morning. Bring the memory of that experience to the front of your mind. Do you have it?" he asked, eyeing me as we walked.
I nodded.
"Good. Now think about the memory itself. Are you remembering in words or pictures right now?"
"Pictures," I replied, a bit surprised.
"That's how most people think," he explained, placing a steadying hand on my back as I stumbled over an errant rock. "There is always an inner monologue, but fantasies and memories alike are generally more visual."
"And you can't... you haven't heard me? Or seen?" I asked timidly.
"No," he confirmed, shifting his arm so it circled my waist. "I cannot and have not been able to access your conscious mind."
I bit my lip, thankful for that, wondering what it meant. Was it just another part of the connection I felt with him? Did he only like me because I afforded him some peace and quiet?
Did he just prevaricate by saying "conscious?"
"Edward, what did you-?"
"Isabella," he interrupted quietly, grasping my hand and leading me through an errant clump of trees. "We're here."
I looked up from the uneven ground, wondering where exactly "here" was. I hadn't known that we were walking someplace in particular. I'd thought we were just walking...
The clearing was broad but not terribly deep. There was grass everywhere, tall and green and peppered with purple and white wildflowers, all reaching towards the sky in an effort to capture the meager amount of sunlight that Washington had to offer. At some point, probably during some storm, a tree had fallen across a far corner of the meadow, its trunk just visible over the rippling sea of color. Suddenly, an errant blade of sunlight sliced through the grey above, followed by another and another, until the entire area was bathed in its warm and rare glow. I ran into the center of the space and threw my arms out, twirling as I tilted my face towards the sky and laughed, delighting in the light.
"Edward," I cried, grinning at him where he stood still shaded by the trees, "how did you find this place? It's incredible!"
"I thought you would like it," he said, returning my smile and laughing at my childish antics. "I'm glad you do."
"I love it," I confirmed, glancing around as I struggled to catch my breath. And that's when it hit me.
Tall grass and wildflowers. A bronze haired boy, more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen. A feeling of rightness and peace so profound that everything else I had ever experienced paled in comparison.
"My dream," I whispered, dropping to my knees in shock. "My dream."
"What about your dream, Isabella?" Edward whispered into my ear, suddenly right by my side.
"We're in it."