Thanks again to Leckadams who purchased this story for a very good cause.
I have finals next week, so the next chapter is gonna be a little late. Only 3 chapters left!
Beta's…what can you say about them? They spend hours fixing our shit – correcting words, revising punctuation – rephrasing when necessary – they tell you to use "is" instead of "was" – because 'baby this story is in present tense' and after they delete all my "that", "and" and "as"'s they deliver something worth reading. And they do it for what? Free. Most of these girls/boys have jobs, kids and/or school, yet they take time to read through our mess, edit and give us insight, for some very heartfelt thanks and a meager display of recognition before every chapter.
If you have a beta, give him/her a big cyber-kiss today.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY Layne Faire! Have fun celebrating your day tomorrow. And remember, I don't just love you on your birthday – I love you hard - all year long baby.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.
"Tell him I'm sorry."
Chapter 12
"Please…"
I search for familiarity in those ferocious eyes, recognition – and her forgiveness.
I've no idea if my theory is correct, but I have to start somewhere, and if I'm going crazy – than I guess I'm better off dead.
The timid wolf nips at the tail of the aggressive one, gaining her attention, but only for a split second.
Growling at her sister, she turns back to me in what feels like slow motion. Her gaze is no less dangerous, but she backs up a step, granting me the opportunity to suck in a breath of much needed oxygen.
Once I think I'm in the clear, she opens her mouth, barring her fangs, before snapping her jaw shut – chopping at the air with a brutal force that lifts her front legs from the ground – demonstrating a powerfully lethal bite.
It's a warning that's completely understood.
Two more steps backward, then they both tear off into the woods. Slashing through trees, they yelp with a sorrow that slays me where I kneel – a desolate howling that echoes the pain in my heart.
I blindly make my way back to the inn, vision distorted from tears, shock and utter disbelief. Surprisingly, my emotions aren't a result from what just happened – the wolves make more sense to my muddled mind than my ridiculously continual, selfish neglect of Jasper's feelings.
How hard would it have been to just tell Emmett the truth? Better yet, why hadn't Jasper and I had this conversation yet?
I think back to all of the wasted openings – chances I'd given up in lieu of a kiss, or a touch. I'd been trying to get Jasper to agree to a relationship with me – a real one, so how was I supposed to fit "Oh yeah, but it has to be a secret until I decide to tell my family" in the conversation?
However, I'm sure if I'd taken the time to explain my objectives to Jasper, before I'd spurned him in front of his friends and family, he probably would've been more receptive to my needs. We may have even come to a compromise. But, just like everything else in my life – I'd gone about it all the wrong way.
It's eerily quiet at the inn – par for the evening. Several guests had arrived last night, so I would've normally expected chatter and laughter aplenty. But I'm thankful for the silence, knowing my inadequate social skills wouldn't have held up if I'd been forced to converse under the circumstances.
Walking in, I see Emmett sitting at the head of the dining room table – alone. He jumps up, like I'd just pulled him out of some sort of trance. "Edward!" He scans me from head to toe. "What happened to you?"
My impassive gaze falls, noticing for the first time that my clothes are in complete disarray, evidence of vomit splatter on my shirt, and the knees of my jeans are covered in dirt.
"Wolves," I mutter, and before he can comment on that, "Uh, where is everyone?"
"Drive in…Shakespeare – or some shit." He shrugs. "Did you say 'wolves'?"
I shake my head – not going there now - if ever. "Where's Rosalie?" His expression changes from confusion to somber in a heartbeat.
"I sent Rosie to go check on Jasper. He didn't look so good. I didn't tell her nothin', but he's probably givin' her an earful right now."
I nod slowly, shuffling my feet. I feel as if I owe him some sort of explanation of what occurred on the pier, but I'm grasping for words that aren't there.
"I don't need to know what's goin' on, Edward. But, whatever it is, I'm sure it'll all work itself out. Jasper…he can be kinda moody…y'know?"
"It's not his fault," I whisper vehemently.
Emmett opens his mouth to speak, but I stretch a pleading hand out – beseeching him to stop attempting to make this right.
Nothing is all right.
"I'm just going to…" I point to the stairs, not trusting my voice to stay even any longer.
Bounding up to the second floor, I sprint to my room, locking the door behind me.
I plop into the desk chair, slumping, while fingers force themselves through disheveled hair – pulling, bitter words that threaten to cause my head to explode.
Go home, Edward, and stay home.
Did he mean it? Does he really never want to see me again?
Is our relationship irreparable?
A thought I'd normally ignore intrudes, but this time it's a welcome salve.
If this misunderstanding could be remedied – would it matter? If I could possibly fix this fiasco, would the long distance between us be too much strain for such a fragile relationship?
Then isn't this really for the best? Yes, we both got hurt – terribly so. I've no doubt it will sting for some time, but wouldn't the pain be much worse breaking it off a couple of months down the road, or a year from now, when it proved to be too difficult to maintain.
It would've been too hard to keep up a long distance relationship, while focusing on a new job.
I pull the phone out of my pocket, idly glossing over the numbers I'd just programmed in this morning. I should at least call…not let it end the way it did.
If he answers, which I don't expect – I'd basically end up begging; pleading for his understanding and one more chance.
Maybe it'll be better if I wait a few months, let things get settled back home, let the haze of Bon Terre clear. Then, I could send a letter…
I'd ask nothing of him but forgiveness, telling him how much I appreciate everything he'd done for me, how much I'll always cherish our time together, how much I…
A broken sob escapes; one that leads to another – and another.
Somehow, I stand by my theory.
I can pick up the pieces. I'll move on. Everything will be okay.
This becomes the grueling mantra that runs continuously in my mind, haunting me throughout a long, sleepless, tearful night.
XXXXX
The next morning, Rosalie studies my haggard appearance with apparent satisfaction, but doesn't comment, probably due to the room full of witnesses.
She looks no better than I. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun, her face devoid of make-up, which helps display the prominent circles under her eyes.
All Rosalie's guests are gathered around the table, snacking on her scrumptious array of morning treats. Even Emmett's present, though he's usually off to work by now. I find I have no appetite while I pick apart the banana muffin I'd chosen to occupy my plate.
Throughout breakfast, everyone around the table chats cheerily. Unfortunately, I'm the topic of discussion, since they all know I'll be leaving today. They compare their previous trips to Chicago, their thoughts about being a teacher, and offer well wishes for my upcoming interview, complete with advice on how to dress and answer questions.
All the while I can only nod and supply monosyllabic answers when required, watching the seconds tick down to the time of my departure.
After calling for a cab, I step out on the back porch, needing…something, but there's simply nothing to be had.
Another sign.
Even the forces have given up on me. The backyard is full of fresh air, calm, and…light – so bright in fact, that I can clearly see a path to Jasper's cabin – something I'd never seen before. It's almost as if the trees, low hanging branches, and dreariness had all parted just to provide me with a clearer view.
His truck is gone… he isn't there.
There's no way I could've said goodbye, even if I'd wanted to.
It's hard to remain stoic, telling myself it doesn't matter that'd he'd made sure he wasn't around when I left, but I give myself credit for managing it.
"Will you be comin' back?" Rosalie asks, startling me. I turn to find her arms wrapped around her waist, a deceptively passive look on her face.
"I don't know," I breathe out – cautious, not quite sure what she's been told.
Her gaze wanders over the wooded area. "I understand if you can't."
Well, that answers that.
She knows everything, and judging by her frosty expression, she doesn't want me to return. "If you do, you should know that Jasper won't be here."
Looking back toward his cabin, I can't help but ask. "Where's he going?"
She snorts…
And merely walks away.
She slides open the patio door, hesitating before turning to face me. "You don't have to worry none, Edward. I won't be sayin' anythin' to your sister. That's your cross to bear."
XXXXX
Stay Still by Edward M. Cullen - cont'd
In the wee hours of the morning, alone with a pile of boxes and his mounting frustration, Jeremy knows there has to be something he's missed.
He pours over the evidence again – and again – and again.
Raking his hands through his unruly waves, Jeremy recalls the tormented look of his best friend, and his vexation is forced to take a back seat, while he redoubles his efforts to prove Tony's innocence.
Suddenly, he remembers that during the interrogation Tony had said that he found the bus pass, which linked him to the latest crime, next to his car at school. Jeremy also recalls Tony saying the principal had a video camera installed in the parking lot after some cars had been vandalized a few months back.
Jeremy knows this is the lead that's going to break the case.
In his haste and excitement, he doesn't waste time going back to the station to view the tapes, but watches them directly from the principal's office.
After reviewing several hours of footage, Jeremy practically falls out of his seat.
"Oh my God."
xxx
The building is dark and cold. The janitor allows Jeremy entry into the office. He watches and waits while the man whistles his way down a long hall, disappearing into a side corridor.
He enters the office, immediately rifling through files, and pilfering through the trash bin for evidence.
In his desperation, he doesn't hear someone approach him from behind until it's too late. He feels a sharp pointed object at the vein on his neck.
Feeling the warm, moist breath of his captor, a breathy chuckle whispers the warning in a teasing tone.
"Stay still."
XXXXX
Its midday and Chicago's city streets are cluttered with a multitude of men and women rushing through their workday, but now - more than ever – I notice that they're careful to keep their heads down, their eyes averted.
No one makes eye contact. There are no friendly smiles for strangers.
It's the same way it's always been, so I wonder why I feel so claustrophobic all of a sudden.
It doesn't take much to crack that case. I've come back a new man, forever altered – but this city has remained the same – and always will.
The real question remains: is Chicago big enough for me now, or will I always feel this suffocated? So many options have opened for me since I last saw my home. I should be high from all the possibilities made available to me through Jasper.
I promise myself that I won't blend back into the background. I won't take up where I left off, when I last left.
I will not squander the gift he gave me. I'll make him proud – even if he'll never really know.
The cab driver moves sluggishly through the traffic, slamming on his brakes every two seconds, sending my body jolting forward, time and again. My entire body aches still from being sandwiched between two large businessmen on the plane. I'd been forced to endure their glares every time I twisted and fidgeted in the narrow seat.
I've learned that it's especially difficult to sit still while turmoil and regret wreak havoc on one's system.
I'll move on.
Unfortunately, my prediction doesn't penetrate the thick skin of fatigue and doubt. Instead, it creates a petulant skepticism showcased in the form of a disgusted snort, for which I'm forced to endure another glare.
Opening the door to my apartment, I expect to feel the sense of relief one experiences at finally being home, but find nothing but a cold chill – one not necessarily derived from the temperature. The apartment is dark and dreary compared to the vivaciousness of Rosalie's inn. There are no appetizing smells, and when I lay my keys down on the table, the simple sound reverberates throughout the vacant space, with no laughter or chatter to absorb it.
I drop my luggage on the bedroom floor, staring at the dismally barren room. It's dank and boring, but it's not until my gaze falls upon the small, twin iron bed from my youth, that I realize how alone I really am.
Not ready to call Alice, I keep myself occupied throughout the day. I'm not quite prepared for her visit and ultimately, the questions she'll ask regarding my trip. So, instead, I spend hours droning over my lesson plans – perfecting the presentation for my interview.
It's no lie that I'm desperate for this position.
They can't turn me down. It's my only lifeline. Large doses of moroseness attempt to consume me while my subconscious wallows in my current predicament.
I ignore it, like I ignore him.
I ignore him, like I ignore the quiet, and the dark.
I ignore all the questions concerning my future, and all the mistakes made in my past.
I ignore the building, creeping – mounting – urge to scream my fucking lungs out.
I ignore the desire to blame, torment, and hate myself – for what I did to him.
How could I have done that if I loved him? And I did…I do… so damn much.
My PowerPoint flies across the room in a satirical version of '52-pick up'. I fall to my knees, gathering the scattered papers, crinkling them in my haste to rectify my wrong.
Rectify my wrong…
Go home, Edward, and stay home.
That'll never happen now.
I didn't want to leave Bon Terre – to leave him – like that. He deserves so much more than what I'd been willing to give. Someday I hope that he'll forgive me for that, but I can't let the mistakes I made with him destroy my life. I can only learn from them, and know how to react better for the next time. Right?
I'll be okay.
Unable to avoid my miserable circumstances any longer, I shuffle the tattered remains of my presentation into a disorganized pile, grabbing my car keys and the take-out menu for Gino's Pizzeria.
Leaving this dungeon seems like a superb idea. Plus, I haven't been behind the wheel of my Volvo in almost two months, so a drive presents the perfect escape. I'd also missed Chicago's famous pizza pies during my absence, and there was no better restaurant than Gino's to fulfill that particular hankering.
xxx
Unfortunately, the general public agrees, and I'm stuck in a twenty person line to retrieve a take-out order I'd called in on the way here.
Hanging out by the counter, two waitresses gawp in my direction, giggling. The desire to roll my eyes is almost overwhelming. I manage to curb it, but when one nudges the other one with an affirmative nod, I know I'm in trouble.
Sure enough, one sashays over. By the smile on her face I've realized too late that I'd been staring, leaving her with a false impression. She's a rather attractive brunette, with long legs, a trim waist, curvy hips, and perky breasts – I've never been more uninterested.
It seems so very transparent now – why I'd always felt uncomfortable with the attention of females, why I'd always felt sick during intimacy.
I should have been able to figure this out sooner – and on my own. Why did I need to hurt Jasper in order to discover who I really am?
With those thoughts in mind, my mood sours considerably by the time the pretty waitress decides to invade my personal space.
"Can I get you anything to drink while you wait for your order?" She smiles suggestively. Is she really touching my arm right now?
"No, thanks," I answer stiffly, shrinking away from her offending touch.
"Can I get you anything? Anything at all?" she asks seductively, batting her eyes, licking her lips – utilizing a full arsenal of feminine wiles.
Of course, she doesn't get the message. That'd be too easy.
"Nope," I reply with a decisive pop, while I eye the other side of the counter, hoping one of the pies they are boxing is mine.
"Maybe…"
"Look, I'm gay," I interrupt.
"Oh…well…" she stammers, but her words trail off. I realize I've actually said the words out loud to someone other than Jasper or Seth… and I didn't care.
I don't care that I'm gay. I don't care that she knows, or what she thinks of me for being gay. I don't care if anyone in the vicinity heard me say I'm gay.
With a weary heart, I grab my deep dish and bolt. In the car, I lean my head against the steering wheel, resisting the urge to bang it against the surface repeatedly.
Baseless, stupid fears.
I'd scared my dreams away – my heart's desire – for no apparent reason.
Angrily shifting the car into drive, I peel out onto the street. I drive past my apartment complex, past the city limits, continuing to drive until I reach a deserted park on the outskirts of my township.
The park is made up of exactly four trees, two benches, and a small play area, all situated on a perfectly manicured patch of land.
No one here craves the natural beauty of the countryside – grassy fields that go on for miles, green pastures, hundred year-old mythical trees, enigmatic bayous, and sultry islands.
No, they don't crave it…never like I do.
With autumn approaching, the temperature is steadily dropping at night. Grappling for the collar of my coat, I pull it over my neck and wrap my arms around my torso, huddling for warmth. There've been many times that I'd felt alone in this world, but never more so than at this moment.
I'm wasting my time here. I find no comfort in this poorly constructed rural reproduction – no satisfaction at all, as I search for something that just isn't here.
The magic is gone – there's no wispy wind or eerie calmness, no mysterious blonds, no happy endings.
I'll never love like that again.
How do I know that? I argue.
I'm broken-hearted right now. The wounds are fresh, and maybe after a period of mourning I'll be able to pick up the pieces, start over with someone else – find that kind of love again.
Who am I kidding?
I'm not going to move on – because I don't want to.
I want Jasper.
xxx
Back home, I sift through my luggage, sorting baskets for laundry, when I come across the shirt I'd worn only two nights ago – the night I'd spent with Jasper – when we'd made love.
So tired of fighting a losing battle, I can't stop the recollections, even if I wanted to. I remember him removing this very shirt from my body. I remember the wonderfully erotic things he'd said, the way he felt moving inside of me.
But most of all, I remember him watching – carefully, while he prepared and entered me, the way he thrust so slow and gentle – the way he took such good care of me.
I remember him pushing back my sweat-soaked hair from my face to kiss my temple after we'd finished.
Jesus.
He loved me.
I ball up the reminder in my hand and throw it across the room. My chest aches and I sob uncontrollably. Dropping to the floor, I weep until I'm left devoid of energy and in a catatonia of deep thoughtfulness.
How could I have fucked it up so badly that he doesn't even want to see me again? Should I go back to Bon Terre anyway? I've had to fight for Jasper from the start, so why give up now? Could I actually get him to listen… make him realize that I don't want to hide our relationship?
I don't know.
All I do know is that nothing – nothing is okay.
And until I get Jasper back, nothing will ever be.
I've messed this up so royally that I acknowledge the need for help, and I know just the person to ask.
Basically, she's the only one I have left.
I dig my cell phone out of my jeans pocket, hitting one of the few numbers I have on speed-dial. "Alice?" My voice is clogged and rough from all the spent tears.
"Edward? What's going on?" I don't know where to begin, so a few seconds lapse. "Say something." Her voice rises to a high, frantic pitch.
"C-can you come over tonight? I… I need to talk to you. Please…" My voice strains, and I suppress the urge to add 'hurry' to my plea.
"Of course…I'll be over in about twenty minutes. Edward, are you okay?"
"I'll be okay. I just really need to see you."
I sit at the small kitchen table, alternating between wringing my hands together and tearing a napkin into tiny fragments. Nineteen minutes later, I hear the soft knock indicating her arrival.
Swinging open the door, I scoop her up into my arms, burying my face into the crook of her neck. It's been years since we've embraced for anything other than the perfunctory hug between siblings, and it's the closest I've felt to 'home' since I've been back.
She pulls away, studying my appearance. I've no idea what I look like, but it can't be good. "Edward? You're scaring me…what's wrong?"
"Oh hell, Alice…I've so much to tell you."
"Okay…" she prompts, leading us toward the kitchen. I slouch back into the chair that I'd waited for her in, while she puts a kettle on the stove, before extracting tea bags from her purse.
She notices me watching her. "I didn't know what you'd have in your cupboards, being gone for so long."
That's just Alice, being Alice – meticulously prepared for anything, anytime, anywhere. I've never known a situation she can't master.
Sitting down, she places a steaming mug in front of me. "Okay, now tell me what's happened?" Her posture is protective, already raring to fight a battle for me, even when she has no idea the cause.
I'm ashamed. I should have known, no matter what, Alice will always be on my side. That revelation gives me the courage I need.
"I'm gay."
At first I'm not sure I'd actually spoken the words out loud, because she doesn't respond to my life-altering news. Since her face isn't giving anything away, I look for some clue to how she feels by watching the liquid swirl in her cup while she stirs it into a mini typhoon. The spoon clinks against the side of her mug, startling me from my daze.
"Oh…oh, really?" she finally says, acting surprised, and doing a horrible job of it.
Jesus.
"Why? What?" My eyes widen. "Did you know?" I ask, incredulously.
"Well, no, I didn't know Edward. I can't say that I'd never suspected…" She looks away, huffing. "Okay, I've suspected that you weren't into girls since college."
"Really? I… I wish I would've realized it sooner. It could've prevented… Oh, God Alice." Tears I didn't think I had left spill heedlessly.
"I'm sorry, I should've told you about my suspicions…"
"No!" I interrupt. I will not allow her to take blame for my own misfortunes. Everything that's happened is no one's fault but my own. "I'm not sure I would've believed you." I hesitate, attempting to take control of my quivering lip. "I… I met someone… I fell in love." I whisper, barely breathing the last word.
"You did? Tell me about him." she invites, smiling warmly.
"It's Jasper…Rosalie's brother."
She nods knowingly, "Mhmm, quite a handsome boy if I remember correctly."
"He's gorgeous…inside and out…," I admit, shyly.
She doesn't look disgusted or judgmental, so I proceed to tell her everything that happened this summer, including Sinner's Island. I leave out no details, except those concerning our sexual encounters. I explain how right it felt to be with him, but no more than that.
I decide to be completely truthful, revealing all of the doubts and uncertainties I've experienced, and how those insecurities ultimately led to the demise of our relationship.
"I fucked up, Alice. I just thought you, mom, and dad should know before the general public. But I shouldn't have denied our relationship when we were confronted. Instead I rejected him, just like his ex did. I became his worst nightmare, and I honestly don't know if I can fix it." I bury my face in my hands, scrubbing roughly. "I feel like each hour that passes, the less of a chance I have of getting him back."
Her head is bowed, absently stirring her tea. "Look, Edward, I know this is how you feel now… but maybe it's for the best. It'd be really hard to make work."
"What?" I squeak.
Alice, the romantic, is telling me to let it go… let him go.
Even though those very thoughts have run through my own mind, my heart is already discarding their validity. Hearing my fears voiced from someone else makes it sound so much more ridiculous – just one more thing I failed to realize.
She shrugs, still looking at her coffee. "I mean, think about it Edward – you should see what Chicago has to offer. He was you're first… y'know… boyfriend. I don't know…it could be just a crush."
I gasp, "I can't believe you just said that." My stomach churns at her suggestion that the way I feel about Jasper is just a mere crush. "I love him Alice. With everything in me."
She lifts her eyes, and they're beaming with pride and mischief. "Then fight for him Edward. Everything else is inconsequential."
"Oh my God, you're totally screwing with me."
She laughs, "I'm so happy to have my brother back, and not just the shell of what he used to be. I knew Louisiana would do the trick."
"I owe you my life for that."
"Just get your man and we'll call it square," she proposes.
"It's going to take something drastic…and I think I know what I need to do." I smile genuinely for the first time all day.
We hug and cry…
…and plan.
XXXXX
The job interview of my life is tomorrow, and I take careful measures to select the correct outfit for the occasion, making sure it's pressed and spotless.
I'd gone through the motions, waiting for the interview to arrive – needing to be done with it, so I can get back to Jasper. I feel like it's been forever since I've last seen him, and I miss him so damn much. I'm hoping that with the time that's passed, he's chosen to reflect on our better times, and not dug in his heels, instead. Otherwise, I'll have my work cut out for me… not that I don't deserve it.
Countless arrangements and hours of hard work have formed the plans to just allow me the opportunity to win Jasper back. I'll know soon enough if my labors have been worthwhile.
It's been difficult to sit back and wait. I ran numerous errands, and worked on this damned presentation in every second of my spare time, perfecting every nuance – I've crossed all of my t's and dotted all of my i's – I've filled in every gap and left no avenue unturned. I've left them no choice but to offer me the job.
I'm fighting for my life.
I've also made the dreaded call to my parents. I'd waited until the last minute, only ending the call about an hour ago.
Unlike Alice, they'd harbored no such suspicions of my orientation prior to my call. Even though they both stated they were cool with it, I have my doubts. The mood had definitely shifted after I'd told them about Jasper, but I'm confident they just need time to let it sink in and adjust.
I'll see them over the holidays, so I'll be able to better evaluate the situation between us then. If all goes well, maybe Jasper will accompany me.
I go to sleep hopeful of what's to come.
XXXXX
Alice and I eat a late lunch before the interview. "I shouldn't have ate – I'm gonna throw up." I say, clutching onto my stomach.
"Stop, you're wrinkling your suit," she declares, pulling my arms away. "Don't worry, you're going to knock them dead."
She straightens my tie, then fixes the collar of my suit jacket. I allow her to tend to me until she spits in her hand, before reaching for my hair.
That's where I draw the line. I duck and run.
Walking up steps leading to the entrance of the school I peer out into the schoolyard at the large playground where the kids spend their recess, and my confidence builds – this is where I'm meant to be.
"Mr. Cullen?" an older woman asks, marching down the long corridor to stop directly in front of me.
"Yes. Principal Cope?" I inquire in return, extending my hand in greeting. She's a sturdy woman, with a strong firm shake. I notice that she skims over my appearance, seemingly satisfied, and I send a quiet "thank you" to Alice.
"Yes. Thanks for coming so late in the afternoon. May I call you Edward?" she asks, leading me down the hall to a large conference room.
"Of course, Principal Cope," I reply, happily.
"You can call me Shelly. I'm not formal with my team." She already sees me as a part of her team. That has to be good.. right?
"Can I get you some coffee or tea?" she offers.
"No. I'm fine, but thank you, Shelly."
"Great. It's been an incredibly long day, so let's just get down to business then, shall we?"
Principal Cope discusses what she expects from her staff, guidelines, benefits, the school itself, and the history. As she continues, the more excited I am about the job.
I follow her to the music room – hopefully my classroom – where I dive into my presentation, including a sampling of my skills on several of the instruments.
"Well, Edward, what can I say? Your resume is impeccable, your qualifications and abilities are transcendent, and your references are glowing. The proposal you've provided not only includes well thought out lesson plans, but you contained concepts for raising money for the musical department, and the school. A talent show and recital will give the children something to strive for, and to add a bake sale and silent auction during these events are brilliant, and perfect for this community."
My face heats, but I thank her earnestly.
"So, Edward, if you're still interested, I'd like to offer you the position."
"Please, I'm absolutely sure that this is the job for me. Your outline on how you'd like the music department to be run is parallel with what I've been looking for." I hesitate, taking a deep breath. "Before I can accept your offer I want to let you know that I'm gay. I know I'm not required to tell you, however I didn't want you to find out later and be surprised. My life is private, but I'm not ashamed of who I am."
I hold my breath, hoping that I just didn't lose my chance at this job.
I'll beg if I have to.
"Well, Edward, I'm sure that breaks a lot of the girls' hearts. I'll have you know that we don't support prejudice or discrimination here."
A wave of relief washes over me.
We spend the next hour mulling over the details of the offer, then schedule a short meeting for tomorrow to sign the contracts.
"I'm sorry we couldn't quite match what you were making previously, but we don't have the budget for more at the moment." My salary will be cut by a third, but working with young children will be much more satisfying, and that's what matters most.
"It's okay, Shelly. I'm just really excited to be here."
She chuckles at my unbridled enthusiasm, which is not an exaggerated by any means. then offers a hearty handshake to seal the deal.
"School starts in two weeks, but you must report to class on Monday. You'll be assigned an administrative email address, so you can be added to all the teacher's meetings next week."
Monday doesn't give me much time to prepare, but nothing is going to kill this buzz.
"We're extremely excited to have you, Edward, welcome to Bon Terre Elementary."
"Believe me Ms. Cope, there's nowhere else on Earth I would rather be."
XXXXX
AN: Note! What Ed believed about the wolves hasn't been confirmed (yet), it's just his opinion (for now). Thanks for all of the reviews and comments. They definitely provide motivation and inspiration. Sneak peaks aren't bribes - they're a big thank you! So review, and you'll get to see how Jas reacts to seeing Ed again - you might get a little surprise from it. :)
Until next time! Deb xoxo