My beta and prereader are better than yours (j/k). Really, they're lovely. Thank you, Writeontime and Ciaobella27.
I don't own Twilight.
It's pathetic, the way I'm standing at the top of the staircase, waiting to hear the front door close before I run out to meet Angela, but I want to avoid seeing him this morning, and he's taking his time in the kitchen. Maybe he's waiting for me, to see if I'm okay, after having caught me outside at three in the morning, smoking and crying, freezing in a t-shirt and shorts. He tried to take away my cigarette and threw a jacket at me, which I didn't catch. Then he walked over, muttering things to himself, and picked up the jacket. I threw it right back at him after he shoved it into my hands. He told me to stop acting like a child and go to my room. It's late. It's cold. We have neighbors. Pull yourself together.
I did everything he told me to do because I couldn't stand looking at his face. Once I was in my room I sent Jasper an email, begging him to come visit. I told stories about how lame the locals are, and how much fun we'll have driving around and seeing ridiculous things, pointing them out, laughing. Drinking in disgusting, tiny bars and eating in rooms where the walls are covered with antlers, creepy dead animals staring at us. He wrote back almost immediately and said he'll be here soon. He misses me and wants to visit friends in California. He'll fly up to Seattle. We'll spend a few days there, and then he'll come back to Forks with me. Why not? He has nothing better to do. He'd love to do me. I teased him and said no, I'm not that kind of girl anymore. He said I'd always be that girl, but only for him. Then he called to make sure I wasn't offended. I was, but then I wasn't. It hurt, but it was okay. I forgot all about it and laughed at his jokes, and smiled through a lot of dirty things, and said a few of my own, and fell asleep. I forgot all about the stupid tears that still felt sticky on my skin. But I remembered when I woke up.
If I walk into the kitchen now, Dad's going to ask me if I'm okay. Or he's going to pretend nothing happened last night. Either way, I don't want to see his face. Every time I think about him, I remember how he snatched away my cigarette and took away the quiet, cold night. I love the cold air. I loved it when I escaped the apartment in the middle of the night in New York, just some cigarettes and my keys, walking down the block or just standing outside the building. I'd watch the cars—most of them cabs—drive by so fast because it was late, no traffic, just lights and familiar noises, the busy city so quiet, but never quiet enough, just enough to distract me from my thoughts. No one around to see me except for the doorman, and if I felt up to it, the owner of the bodega just a few blocks away. I'd buy cookies or candy, and he'd mostly ignore me, and I always had exact change.
There are no doormen or bodegas here, no lights and cabs, but it's not unlike New York. There are noises, just different ones. Quieter ones, but they're so loud in the dark. Signs of life in this dead town, so rare, but they keep me tense and always waiting for the next one, wondering where it will come from, what it is. Always distracting me, even when I'm feeling sorry for myself, crying stupid tears because I'm jealous and stupid. Stupid because Ben called Angela as she was dropping me off, and she was happy and silly, and I decided to turn on my iPod once I was in my room, and an old, familiar song came on and made me sad. You go from twenty-three back to thirteen so fast. Lonely, pining away after things you can't have, pretty words making your heart ache and your eyes sting. Pathetic. Stupid. You turn off the music and focus on something else. But sometimes there's nothing else, and the melody and the words don't leave you.
"Bella?"
"Oh, hey, Mom."
"What are you doing standing there?" she asks as she walks over to me, tying her pink robe and blinking.
"Did you forget to wear your contacts?"
"No, they're in! I'm just trying to get used to them. It takes a few minutes," she explains. "So why are you standing here? Is something wrong?"
"No… Just waiting for Angela."
"Wait for her in the kitchen, with me."
"No, it's okay."
"Suit yourself. Are you two running again this morning?"
"Yeah."
"They're gonna get themselves killed."
I freeze. So he's been listening to our conversation, and he has an opinion, of course.
"We'll be fine," I snap.
"This isn't New York City, Bella. No sidewalks to run on."
"Oh, you seem to know a lot about a city you've never visited."
The front door finally closes and he's gone. It was loud, and Mom jumped, and she's probably upset, so I tug on her sleeve and tell her we should go downstairs and eat something.
"I'm not hungry," she says. "I'm going to go lie down for a little while."
But you just woke up. But I guess I ruined your morning, so you need to go back to bed now, and give this day another try when I'm not around.
"Okay, I'm out."
Angela and I run for half an hour, and by the end, I have to admit that Dad was right. There's nowhere to run in Forks, and no one else seems to be doing it. It's fine when I have someone to run with, but I don't want to be doing this alone once Angela leaves. And she leaves later today.
"I'm never going to do this without having you here to force me every morning," I tell her once the waitress has left with our order.
"You should! It's great exercise, and the fresh air!"
"It's gross and wet, Angela."
"Yeah," she admits.
"There must be somewhere… I mean, don't these people run?"
"I used to be on the track team in high school. Maybe you should run there. You could ask your boyfriend if it's okay. He works there, you know?"
I scowl and throw a packet of sugar at her. "I'm never telling you anything again."
"Oh, come on. You're going to call me soon and say 'Angela, guess what? Edward and I made love last night, and it was beautiful, and I saw stars,' and I'm going to cheer, and swoon, and be green with envy."
"Stars. Yes. Is this before or after I stare into his pretty green eyes and whisper his name over and over again?"
"After," she says. "You'll fall asleep in his arms after the stars."
"Mmhmmm… been there, done…"
"I hate you, Bella."
"I hate you, for making me think about things that will never happen again."
"I thought you weren't even into him, that he was just 'okay'."
"I told you, he was nice, and sweet, and it wasn't just okay. I just… I don't remember, it was so long ago. I don't remember the sex as much as I remember how I felt. It was just a nice feeling, just being with someone. New, and different, and he was just so nice about the whole thing," I try to explain.
"Well, why wouldn't he be?"
"What do you mean?"
"He's a decent guy, and you guys had sex, why wouldn't he be nice? He must have liked you enough to sleep with you."
"He just wanted to have sex with me. No one has to be nice. People usually are just… they just are. It was great, it's over, you're hot, let's do this again, whatever. You don't have to like someone to have sex with that person. I mean, I do, but he probably just wanted to fuck."
"Ugh, Bella. You make me so sad sometimes," Angela says.
"Why?"
"Is that what it's like out there?"
"Yeah. You need to act like it's nothing, it doesn't matter. You need to treat it like anything else. No expectations… God forbid you have expectations. Like, no one has to call or be nice or…"
"But you're just letting them do that."
I chuckle and shake my head back forth. I know exactly what she's saying. "That's bullshit."
"No, you're letting them mistreat you," Angela insists.
"No one is mistreating anyone. It's just the way it is. You don't want casual sex? Don't go around sleeping with people. No one owes you anything."
"But now you're complaining of the way men treat you after sex."
"I'm not complaining. I just said Edward was really nice, and different. And by 'nice' and 'different,' all I meant was that he had manners and made me feel comfortable being there with him. Nothing special."
"Don't you want more?" she asks me. "Something special?"
"You act like I wasn't in a relationship with Jasper for years. We were together all through college—"
"You broke up at least eight times…"
"Yes, but we were together, and Jasper was special. He still is. I don't feel like I'm having casual sex with a random person when I'm with him."
"But that's all it is, if you're not together," she says. I roll my eyes.
"Jasper's not random."
"But the sex is casual."
"Stop judging, Angela."
"I'd never judge," she whispers as the waitress sets our food on the table.
"It's just strange for me," she continues. "I have no idea what it's like to date different guys, to want to hook up with someone, but not have someone at home to go hook up with. I don't know what I'd do. Where do you start? How do you act? How do you turn someone random into a boyfriend?"
"You don't. It just happens, or not."
"So basically, you could be sleeping with someone for months and it could still be nothing more than a casual thing."
"I guess? I don't know. I mean, I know I've got quite the reputation, but I can count the number of guys I've slept with on one hand."
"Are you counting the President?" she whispers again.
"Yes, I am."
"Then you're lying."
"No!"
"Tyler, Jasper, him, Edward, your friend from school who you slept with when you were taking summer classes and Jasper was gone—"
"We were on a break! You make it sound like I was cheating."
"Fine, but he still exists, so that's five, and the boy in Berlin."
"Okay, six! And Tyler doesn't even count."
"He took your virginity in Ben's car," she reminds me. "You have no idea how much that counts. Disgusting, and not one of your finest moments."
"Ugh, I swear, it never happened."
"There was proof, Bella. Stop lying to yourself." I shudder at the memory and try to shake it away. Angela laughs.
"Fine. It happened. It was terrible. And so was my first time with Jasper. Awful."
"So why'd you try again?" she asks.
"Oh, he probably tricked me into it by doing awesome things and making me forget how awful it was. He did that a few times, actually."
"So romantic."
"He was, though! All kisses and touches and whispers and then—bam! But still romantic. Oh man, I miss college."
I eat a pancake, and I could totally eat the remaining two, but I set my fork down and ignore the yumminess on my plate. I listen to Angela's stories about work and annoying coworkers. She's funny when she gets mad about something. She's complaining about the woman whose cubicle is directly across from hers when suddenly, she stops speaking. Her mouth opens and closes a few times. Her face is pink.
"What?"
"Don't freak out, but Edward Cullen is here."
"So?" But my heart beats faster, and I'm playing with a stupid packet of sugar, and I need to stop fidgeting.
"Nothing, I'm just telling you he's here."
"Okay, cool." But I want to quickly look over my shoulder and see him and stare a little, because it's not dark in here, and I want to remember his face and see if he's as pretty as I always tell myself he is. A second outside the restaurant and his back and profile at the bar weren't enough. Maybe his face is so pretty that seconds and backs and profiles will never be enough.
Shut up. Shut up and stop thinking about someone who probably tells stories about how you sucked his dick after a party and begged him to fuck you faster, faster, harder, please, yes, more, oh my God. I run my hands through my hair and want to cover my face with it. How did I go from smiling at him a week ago, to wanting to disappear forever because… I should have known better. He saw that smile I gave him last week and probably thought he had a chance. And he'd probably take that chance and use it to tell more stories, and brag, and look smug the next time I run into him in town. I don't need that. I'd never be in control. I can tell myself that I want to destroy his reputation because I can, or just use him to feel good, but at the end of the day he'll just laugh at me with his buddies, and the short, fat one will laugh so hard.
"Are you almost done?" I ask Angela.
"Um…" And she looks up and smiles. She's not smiling at me.
"Angela, right? I'm Edward."
Excitement and nerves and my pancake and coffee create a mess in my stomach, and I continue to play with the sugar packet. Angela shakes his hand and replies to his greeting. She's calm and cool and polite and all smiles.
"Hey, Bella. Welcome back."
His fingers are on the table, and I stare at them. He's nervous. He's softly tapping one finger, and probably doesn't even know he's doing it. Then his hand curls up into a fist. Then he lets go. I could stare forever. Perfect distraction from this perfect stranger.
"Thank you," I reply.
"This isn't the best place for this, but I was hoping I could speak to you. Privately, if that's alright with you, and Angela, of course."
"We were just about to leave," I tell him.
"I'm going to go pay for this." Angela is gone before I can stop her, and I finally have to look up at Edward. I'm not a rude person. I try to smile, but it's probably ugly, twisted, strange. It's like I can't look straight at him right now, and I don't like that feeling. It reminds me of the early days of testimony and depositions. I'd try to speak and keep my face relaxed, but it was always contorted, ugly. Twitches and blinks.
"Please, sit."
"Are you sure?" he asks.
"Yeah, this place is pretty empty."
He sits across from me and I can tell he doesn't want to be here either, except he chose to walk over, so he should just speak and leave.
"Wait, how did you know I was here?" I ask him. And then, because I have absolutely no filter these days, "it's like you're stalking me."
"I'm not, I promise." He looks guilty and a little scared, a lot embarrassed. "I stopped by your house, and your mother said I would probably find you here, with Angela."
I raise an eyebrow. He continues.
"I wanted to apologize for last night. I don't want you to think that my friends and I were…"
"But you were. And if you weren't, you wouldn't be here right now."
He blinks twice. He's surprised. He thought I'd smile and thank him for his "apology" or whatever that was.
"I know what it looked like," he tells me.
"It looked like they were laughing about something someone said about me. And I'm pretty sure you quickly became the center of attention, so I'm guessing it was about you, too." He's about to say something, but I stop him with a wave of my hand. "Listen, it's fine. They're your friends and they're probably so proud of you. 'Good job, Cullen, how was she?' And I guess you wanted to brag, except I thought of you as the type that would be embarrassed about the whole thing, but what do I know? Just don't come here and be all perfect and nice by apologizing for something you refuse to truly take the blame for. You told your friends, fine. They laughed, great. It's over."
"Huh."
"What?"
"You've got a temper," he says.
"Wow. You pick things up fairly quickly. Now I get why you're the pride and joy of Forks. Just a little smarter than the average—"
"You've got some nerve, talking about the people—"
"I don't need a lecture right now."
"Good," he says, and he's so angry, and it's hot for a split second, but that's not what this is about. "I don't have the time to give you one."
"Busy, are we? What do teachers do all summer, Mr. Cullen?"
He moves quickly, and I think he's getting up to leave, but he's still here. "You don't want my apology? That's fine, but don't try to insult this community or my job."
"I wasn't insulting anything."
"You're insulting my intelligence, now."
"Fine. You're right. I hate this town, and when we met last year, I was wondering what you were doing here, and when I saw you last week, I wondered why you were still here. If that's insulting, I don't care. I care about very, very little, Edward. And if you think that my feelings were hurt last night, you're wrong. I have heard it all. Thank you for coming here and apologizing, but it wasn't necessary. You did nothing wrong."
I watch him run a hand through his hair. He doesn't say anything, so I decide it's time for me to go. I try standing up, but I need a second. My legs are wobbly and I'm out of breath. It's like I ran, ran, ran and just stopped, and I can't run anymore. He suddenly looks up and his face is young and sad, pretty, but not hot, nothing I want to dream about, nothing I want to think about while I fantasize.
"I didn't tell my friends anything last night," he finally says. "My brother has a big mouth, and a few of them knew, and they recognized you. I laughed along with them, and I immediately regretted doing so when I saw your face."
"It's okay, really."
"Anyway, I'm sure you don't want to keep your friend waiting for too long."
I stand up and he immediately stands up too, and it's all awkward and embarrassing, the way we make it out the door. I stop, he stops. I move, but he doesn't, so I stop again, but he's moving and we bump into each other. I smile, less ugly this time, and he smiles, always pretty. I stop again once we're outside, and turn to face him.
"I'm an asshole. It was really nice of you to come looking for me today," I tell him.
He nods. I nod. I start walking towards Angela's car.
"Bella!"
"Yeah?"
"Where do you guys run?" he asks me, and I'm suddenly aware of my outfit, and my hair, and my cheeks are probably still red and blotchy and disgusting.
"Just on the side of the road, anywhere."
"You could always run on the track around the football field. The roads can't be safe."
Everyone in this town is so concerned with safety. For what?
"Oh, yeah, cool."
"See you around."
"See you."
Angela doesn't ask me about our conversation in the diner. She asks me about our brief exchange outside her car, and I giggle. I don't know why I'm giggling, because if I ever had a shot with Edward Cullen, I just blew it, but I keep giggling, and she keeps teasing me about him. I let her do this, and when she asks me if I think Edward spends time at the school over the summer, and if he'd be around if I went running there, I blush, and I let Angela see. She tells me to buy cuter shorts. I look out at the grey morning through my window and wonder if Edward just made it darker, or if maybe, somehow, that uncomfortable conversation with him took some of the grey away. The rest of my day is better than the all the days I've spent here so far, so I think maybe it did.
I love you guys. I'm being really good about replying to reviews and answering questions these days, so let me know what you think, or ask me things, or just stop by and say "hello."
xo