DESIDERATA
A/N: Things I own, once again due to the indulgence of my baby sister: A Cullen Crest t-shirt, which I take off occasionally to wash.
Things I don't: Twilight. It's all Stephanie Meyers'. Damn.
CHAPTER ONE: SYNCHRONICITY
"There is an odd synchronicity in the way parallel lives veer to touch one another, change direction, and then come close again and again until they connect and hold for whatever it was that fate intended to happen." – Ann Rule
"Bella, Bella, Bella, Bella!!!" Alice's cries break me from my thoughts.
"Alice, chill…it is only 6:00 AM and you haven't had your coffee yet. How can you possibly be this wound up already?"
Alice stops dead in her tracks. "Waaaaait…Bella, what in god's name are you wearing?"
"What? It's just a stupid t-shirt, Al, calm down," I mutter. "Can't you see I'm busy working? Were you expecting to find me clad in Prada or something?"
"'Some days it isn't even worth chewing through the restraints'? Honestly, if that doesn't scare the guys away, I don't know what will…geez, Bella! Anyway, back to the real reason I came running in here—I just had one of my dreams," she emphasizes the word carefully. "And all I can remember is that you need to watch out for a pair of vibrant green eyes that will show up today."
"English, Alice?"
"Bella, I saw you, mouth wide open, staring into a pair of gorgeous green eyes. I think it was here in the shop," she continues, slightly exasperated that I don't catch up with her train of thought immediately.
"That's about the most ridiculous thing I've heard come from your mouth yet! This is Forks, Washington, Alice. Nothing exciting ever happens here. No one new ever comes here. I think I can safely say that there will be no vibrant green eyes to worry about today. By the way, didn't your dream forewarn you of my t-shirt choice?"
"Oh come on, Bella…you were clearly blown away by this guy in my dream! That has to mean something!" I can't believe she totally glossed over my psychic crack!
"Alice, it isn't like you foresaw us galloping away into the sunset on his horse! All you saw was me with a gaping, wide open mouth! How do you know it isn't wide open because I just said something stupid or embarrassing? That's more like something I would do."
"I got the sense in my dream that there was a strong connection between you two, and that was the reason for your gaping mouth. Bellaaaaahhhh--don't you ever believe that there is someone out there, waiting for you, to fall in love? Don't you think there is such a thing as destiny?"
"You just totally gave me a Streetcar Named Desire moment, Alice!" I giggle out loud, while Alice pouts her lip at me. I move back to the matter at hand. "I think that the concept of destiny and true love is something conjured up by shallow, unhappy people who want to imagine life is like a romance novel. I do hope, for your sake, that there is someone out there, waiting for you…I'm not convinced, though, that there is a man alive who could possibly appreciate what an absolute gem you are. You know me, my irreverence alone scares every guy away. And didn't I just tell you that no one new ever comes to Forks? I'll be damned if I'm stuck with Mike Newton by default; being alone is a far more appealing prospect," I growl at that last thought.
I will never attempt to relieve myself again by agreeing to a date with Mike Newton. My own hand is far more, umm, engaging than the prospect of making out with Mike. And as Woody Allen once said, "…don't knock masturbation; it's sex with someone I love." Hell, I even make quotes to myself—that can't be good!
"Bella, I just know that someday, someone will come along and sweep you off your feet," Alice shakes her head and grins at me. "And you, my dear, will be totally caught off guard!"
"Even in matters of love, Alice, you are always the optimist…but it ain't gonna happen!"
"I don't see why you insist on being so cynical about love and life."
"In the immortal words of Cameron Frye, in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, 'I'll give you two good reasons: My mother, and my father.' And you know, George Bernard Shaw once said, 'the power of accurate observation is commonly called cynicism by those who have not got it.' There you have it, Alice; two good quotes to illustrate my insistence upon cynicism." I giggle. I know I got her.
"Honestly, Bella, don't pull that quote shit on me…it is too early in the day for that, and I haven't had my coffee yet!"
"Aw, you're just pissed 'cause you know I'm right!" I say as I reach over and attempt to muss up her hair.
I sigh deeply to myself and return my attention to stirring the batch of lemon curd I am making for my "Queen of Hearts Tarts." Alice's proclamation dredged up some deep thoughts to the forefront of my mind, ideas that are best left alone, buried in the recesses from whence they came. Although I live a simple, easy existence, with people I genuinely love, I'll be the first to admit that I often feel like I'm just going through the motions. I would never admit this to Alice, but I want so badly to believe her. I know in my heart that I am simply too unconventional to appeal to any guy. And I've never met anyone who is different enough to pique my interest—it is a pretty small pool to fish from here in Forks, after all. I mentally assess my attributes and flaws:
- Mousy brown hair and lackluster brown eyes
- Complete lack of verbal filter
- Blush at the drop of a hat
- Reserved and overly pensive
- Rely upon other's words to express myself
- Irreverent to a fault
- Invisible to members of the opposite sex
- Trip over my own two feet
- Fall asleep by 8:00 PM every night; wake up at 3:00 AM every day
- Nearly constant state of horniness
- Etc., etc., etc.
Somehow, I always seem to come up short on the attributes end of things. In fact, my list doesn't have any attributes. Except maybe the horniness part, and of course there is no one who even comes close to fitting the bill to relieve me of that state of horniness. If you doubt me, just refer back to the mention of Mike Newton. See what I mean??
I continue musing, prepping, and baking while Alice brews away for our regulars. I'm just getting my Cheshire Cat Grins into the oven when, around 9:00, there is a huge commotion in the front of the store, and I interrupt my train of thoughts to check it out.
"O-M-G, I think I just died and went to heaven!" I hear Jessica Stanley scream. I silently wish to myself that she would. Die and get out of Forks, that is…
"Jess, did you hear when they are supposed to get here?" Lauren Mallory screams in return. Seriously, have these two never heard of inside voices?
"I just heard that they are coming to scope out the scenery with the producers, but I think it is a done deal already…" Jessica continues. I am reminded that Desiderata clearly states to avoid loud and aggressive persons, as they are vexatious to the spirit. My spirit is being seriously vexatioused to the core right now!
"You know that means Jasper Whitlock will TOTALLY be here, like, in Forks, like, for months?" Lauren squees, and then Jessica joins her. The sound is not unlike fingernails scratching down a chalkboard.
By now, the entire shop is staring at the two screaming girls, and lo and behold, the gossip chain has begun. I hear the murmurs and buzz, and arrive at Alice's side.
"Hey, Tinker Tot, what the hell is going on up there?"
"I have no idea, Bella. But I intend to find out…" Alice says, as she dances off towards the pair.
I watch the process unfold, in between the squeals, screams, and giggles, seeing Alice nod her head, ask some questions, and quickly depart.
"I guess that Jess and Lauren read on the Internet that Masen Masterworks is going to be filming their next movie here, in Forks, and they are flying in to check things out before everything is finalized, " Alice informs me.
"Wait, these two twits get wind of an Internet rumor, and all of a sudden it is a fact? WTF, Alice?"
"Apparently their next film is about a love affair between a Native American and a white settler, and they want to shoot it here because we're near the Quileute tribe and our population is small, so they won't have to worry about lots of locals interrupting the shooting schedule," Alice says, shrugging.
"Well, I'll believe that when I see it," I scoff.
I happen to know a little bit about Masen Masterworks, because I am a total book and independent film nerd. In fact, I've seen every one of their movies—they are known for their exquisite period pieces, really good scripts, and have won numerous awards. Their coming here would be a really big deal, which is why I doubt the news so fervently. It would be too good to be true. On top of just being a great production company, I know that their productions are always directed by Edward Cullen, who is Elizabeth Masen's nephew, and invariably star his best friend, Jasper Whitlock. The entire Cullen family is involved with Masterworks. To say that Edward Cullen is a lurvely slice of yumminess would be an understatement; he is notoriously single, and all of Hollywood's hottest actresses are after him perennially. Jasper Whitlock is no slouch, either. I could totally handle those two hanging around town for a few months. Just another reason to believe it could never happen.
"Earth to Bella, hello! Remember what I said about green eyes? You know who has those famous green eyes, right?"
"Jesus, Alice, give it a rest already! I am not going to suddenly be face-to-face with Edward Cullen's green eyes any time soon…you do remember that our information source for all of this is Jessica and Lauren, right? All the more reason to just let it go…"
Alice grins her damn spritely little grin at me and just walks away. I could clobber her sometimes, except that I love her too damn much.
Our day continues per the typical routine, except that there are more mutterings than usual. Yep, it's official: The Forks grapevine is in full swing. Good for business, though, because people like to swap gossip over coffee until the bars open. Around 5:30, we start to clean up and wind down for closing, when suddenly the familiar bell above our door tinkles out an announcement that a new customer has arrived. Alice is in back loading up the dishwasher, so I am forced up to the front of the store. When I look up from the register, I see three sets of eyes, but my focus goes straight to the pair of impeccably green eyes standing in front of me. Lovely, perfect, vibrant green eyes, looking at me. Seriously, do genes ever combine to create eyes that green? I've never seen anything like them in my life! I realize that photos don't even do them justice, like when you try to capture the colors of Hawaii—it never looks as vivid as it does in real life. My mouth drops wide open and a million thoughts flood my brain simultaneously, the most prevalent being:
Fuck. me.
No, really, fuuuuuck me.
Please, fuck me. Please??
I stand there, mouth agape, saying nothing, which prompts a beautiful smirk to form right below those beautiful green eyes. The smirk suddenly disappears as quickly as it appeared, as if the smiler caught himself in the act. Still, I swear I'm having one of those moments where music is beaming and lights arise from on high, announcing the arrival of god, straight out of a Monthy Python sketch. Those green eyes are literally that fucking beautiful. I have an instant, visceral reaction: My stomach fills with butterflies, my brain with sawdust, and my girlie parts are suddenly very tingly. I'm fairly certain that if I looked down on the ground right about now, I would discover a puddle of marshmallowy goo sticking to the floor where once I stood. Shit, I'm worse than Emmett!! Why am I such a freaking idiot?! All he did was look at me, smirk momentarily, and I'm already a gooey mess. Say something, Bella!!
"Hello there, welcome to Alice's Wonderland Café. Would you like one of my buns?" I stammer. Oh. My. God. Please tell me I didn't just say that. Kill me now. Pleeeeeease….
"Well, actually, we just came in for a cup of coffee…"