Playlist: Mr. Right by A Rocket to the Moon

Word Prompt: Shoulder

Plot Generator: waiting for the right moment.

Chapter 3

Idling in Bella's driveway, I check my phone while waiting for her. Waiting and waiting and waiting. I head to the door and knock. Charlie answers.

He holds a rag, wiping his hands. He's already in his uniform and heavy boots, ready for work. "What do you need, kid?"

"I'm waiting for Bella," I say, incredulous. He knows, just as I do, I pick her up every day for school.

"She left with some Jake guy, mmm . . ." he checks his watch, ". . . 'bout fifteen minutes ago."

"Oh, okay."

"He looks like a football player," Charlie grumbles.

"Um, yeah, he is."

"You'll figure that out then, right?"

"I . . ." I fiddle with my team-issued cap since my favorite's in Bella's room.

Charlie looks down at his feet, then back at me, like he's taking stock or something. In a gruff tone he says, "Go to school, Edward, and fix it."

The first time I see Bella is at lunch. She's with the usuals: Marcus, Jane, Peter, Charlotte. And one addition—Jake. I don't mind Jake. He's a decent guy. Funny as hell. Doesn't talk smack. But seeing him sitting across from Bella, making her laugh, pisses me off.

"Hey, guys," I say, sitting and chugging my Gatorade. Gotta hydrate throughout the day; I've got a game later.

Peter and Marcus nod hello, but Jane and Charlotte ignore me. Nothing unusual there. Those two stick to their men mostly. Jake says, "S'up," and Bella gives me a hesitant glance. That's nice. Better than I expected.

Tanya plops down beside me and leans in for a kiss. I oblige but keep my eyes on Bella. Okay, this is getting weird. "You okay?" she asks.

"I'm, you know, just family crap."

"Right, the divorce. How's that going?" she asks absently as she unfolds a wrapper unveiling half a sandwich. Another container sits to the side: a salad, no doubt.

"How's that . . ." I throw my hand out in shock at her statement. I'm dating an idiot. Who would say something like that?

Tanya shrugs and opens up her lunch container, tucking into her customary salad. I knew it. She chats with Charlotte and Jane about shoes. I know she'd prefer sitting with more of her girlfriends, but I don't really like big crowds. And frankly, her friends bug me. Charlotte and Jane are all I can handle, and she likes them enough.

Bella, however, can't stand any of them. She likes Marcus and Peter and me. She's better off hanging with the guys, anyway. We're less complicated. She likes that. And I like that about her. Although, the situation we're in now is anything but "less complicated."

"I stopped to pick you up today," I say, eyes on Bella. She snaps her head to gaze at me, but before she can speak, Tanya pipes up.

"Aw, such a sweetie. You know I ride with Irina. She drops me off before heading to her classes."

"Oh, I meant Bella," I say, feeling a little rude and foolish. I have not been a stellar boyfriend as of late. Then again, she hasn't been a stellar girlfriend, either, so . . .

"Oh," she says, then picks something out of her salad she doesn't like. Looks like an olive, but it's the wrong color. I love olives.

"I rode with Jake," Bella says, mouth full of pizza.

"Yeah, your dad said. Said some other stuff, too."

"What did he say?" Jake asks.

"Nothing important. Anyway, just let me know when and if you need a ride."

"I got it from here, man," Jake says, grin wide.

"I also have my car, ya know," she says jokingly but only looks at Jake when she says it. Like she's flirting. With him. Like he's worth flirting with.

This sucks.

I eat quietly, watching the people around me, wanting to shrink and hide under my hat.

Halfway through lunch Tanya abandons our table for another with a bunch of her friends. I wait to get Bella alone. But it never happens. Jake is stuck to her. They walk shoulder to shoulder down the hall like freaking Siamese twins.

I catch her before our game, though, and walk with her to the buses. She's got her gear on, but her hat's missing, and her hair is down, swaying as she walks. It's so long now, it nearly reaches her butt. Her, um, nice butt. Wow, with the softball uniform you can really see the shape and everything. I shake my head and jog up to her.

"You still mad?" I call out like an ass. What else should I say?

She turns on me and narrows her eyes.

"Okay, yes. You got a ballpark for me yet?"

"Yankee Stadium," she deadpans and digs in her bag, pulling out an apple and taking a massive bite.

"Got one of those for me?" I know she does; she always does.

"Not today," she mumbles.

"Hey, Bella, come on. This sucks. I miss you."

"I'm right here," she scoffs, throwing her arms out wide.

"You know what I mean." I cross my arms, and my bag swings, heavy against my side.

"You mean the Bella that did everything for you and talked to you and was your friend and did whatever the hell you wanted just because you wanted her to?"

I scratch my cheek and think about her words, and she's right. "Yeah, that's who I miss," I say.

She closes her eyes and takes a labored breath. She turns around and heads toward the bus again, so I snag her arm.

She wrenches it away from me and throws it to the side wildly. "Did you forget I know how to use a bat?"

"No," I say, baffled. Geez, she's combative. And really pissed.

"Good. And bye."

"Bye." I watch her walk away from me, feeling sorry for myself. What did I do to deserve this? All I did was kiss her. She kissed me back. "Well, good luck," I say, calling to her.

She throws her arm up and fist pumps her apple in the air. I'm hungry now.

Tuesday sucks just as bad as Monday in regards to Bella and her new behavior, which consists of either A. ignoring me, or B. saying awful, hurtful things.

By Wednesday, I get smart and avoid her by taking Tanya to lunch. While there, something unexpected happens. But I'm happy about it.

"So Irina said her English professor was flirting with her. It's, like, ew gross. He's in his thirties."

"Isn't she in her twenties?" I take a large bite of my burrito with the works and chew gratefully. I feel like I haven't eaten in days. Really, it's only been a few hours. Mom officially moved out this morning and didn't have time to make me breakfast, so I went to school hungry. I should've grabbed a banana or something, anything.

"Yeah, but yuck." She squints at her measly salad and forks some, tapping the lettuce with her tongue before taking it into her mouth. Talk about yuck. Can't she just eat it like a normal human being?

"My parents are eight years apart."

"Yeah, and see how well that turned out." She rolls her eyes and takes another bite.

My mind is bogged down by her words, and I imagine Bella telling me to calm down, that everything will be okay. But it won't be okay. Not with Tanya, that's for sure. So I do what I have to do. "Tanya, I don't I think I want to do this anymore. I like you, but I don't think we're meant to be together."

She drops her fork and makes direct eye contact. "You're breaking up with me?"

"I . . . yeah, I am." Good, clear, concise. I'm good at this, though my fingers fumble nervously with my hair, looking for the hat that's been missing for days. I need to get it back.

"Because I said something mean, but true, about your parents?"

"Well, that's part of it." I set my burrito down and play with the condensation on my cup, looking for a distraction. I don't want to admit I was a cheating jerk, but I should. It's the right thing to do.

"Part? What's the other part?" Her four-fake-nailed hand flies around her head as she speaks.

"I kissed Bella." And I liked it.

"Bella Swan?" Her mouth hangs open after she says it. I hope a fly finds its way inside.

"Yes," I say.

"She's like a boy. Are you gay?" Her eyes go wide, like she's actually discovered something. She has not.

"I'm not gay. And Bella is not like a boy. She's—"

"Not even cute."

No, you're right. She's gorgeous, and I never took the time to notice. "You wouldn't get it. I get along with her."

"Because she follows you around like a puppy dog and does whatever you say. And you know what? Screw you, Mr. All American Good Looking Baseball Boy, because that ship has already sailed. I saw her and Jake making out in his car last night at Sonic." She smiles victoriously and eats a bite of her salad.

"I . . . that's . . ." Is that true? Does Bella do everything I say? And if she does, I should tell her not to make out with Jake. He plays football. And he's not me.

"You're pathetic. I'm glad I didn't waste anymore time on you. I was holding out 'til prom, hoping you'd put out. After that it was just a matter of waiting for the right time to see you off."

"To see me off? This is great then. I'm glad we're doing this now." I shrug because I couldn't care less.

"Yeah, now my summer will be free to start on college guys."

"Well, good luck with that."

"I don't need luck. Have you seen me?" She smiles brightly and twirls some hair around her finger, which makes her missing nail stand out much more. Is she trying to be alluring? Because she looks kind of creepy. "Every male sees me except you."

"I guess not," I say. I feel a huge sense of relief suddenly, like I could run several miles or bench press twice my usual weight. It's great.

"Whatever. We done here?"

"Yep, I'll drive you back to school, and then that's it, I guess."

"Fine by me, Edward." She puts all her half eaten rabbit food on my tray so I can throw it away. It'll be like a metaphor when I do it, like sliding Tanya off my tray of life and into the trash where she belongs. Although, there is that saying: one man's trash is another man's treasure. I'm sure that'll be true for Tanya. She is attractive, and she can be sweet. I honestly wish her the best, but I don't need to put up with her anymore. She's not it for me. Apparently, according to my mother—and I'm starting to agree—Bella is. What it means, I'm not exactly sure. But I am sure I like her.

A/N: And there was much rejoicing. Hooray.