AN: Whoa, watch out. Two chaps in a week. I know, crazy stuff. This is another long one too. I thought about making it into two, but decided it really fit together this way and why not, right? Thanks for everyone who stuck with me. Enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think.
EPOV
Wednesday, December 29th
Like I knew he would, Emmett said nothing about my little fit from the night before. Esme wanted to leave the house at 7:30, early enough to beat some of the crowd, she said. That wasn't a problem for me at all, but Emmett was a different story.
When I came down for breakfast around 7, Esme was there drinking coffee, but no Emmett. I had started to think he wasn't going to come, until about three minutes before were supposed to leave he shuffled into the room, looking rumpled and the least energetic I'd ever seen him.
He said nothing and got a cup of coffee. I had never seen him drink coffee before. I felt a little bad because clearly I made him get up extra early on one of his days off. But then again, he didn't have to come. He volunteered, insisted he wanted to even, so I tried to push it out of my mind.
I found my study book on the couch where I had left it the night before. Before heading out the door, I grabbed it for the car. I saw Emmett rolling his eyes.
Emmett yelled "shotgun!" and jumped in the front seat. Upon seeing the confused look on my face, Esme patted my arm and got into the driver's seat, leaving the back for me.
"I don't think the rules of shotgun are quite fair unless everyone is fully informed," she told Emmett, clueing him in with her own kind way that I was completely lost.
"The rules of shotgun are always in effect. But I guess it's only fair." He turned to look at me, a serious expression on his face. I wondered if this would be on the test. "Once the car in question is in sight, the first to yell shotgun gets the front seat. Doesn't matter if somebody else gets to the car first, whoever calls it, wins."
"Oh," I said simply, understanding it was a game. "I don't mind the back."
"That's not the point though." He shook his head.
"Then what's the point?" I asked, confused once more.
He was about to answer but Esme interrupted him as she pulled out of the driveway. "I think the point is, in fact, winning. Am I correct dear?"
Emmett grumbled and crossed his arms. I suppressed a laugh at his childish ways. I was just glad he wasn't mad about last night.
"Don't be nervous," Esme told me as we pulled into a parking lot. I hadn't joined in their conversation at all on the ride over and the quiet from the backseat must have told her more than I thought. "You'll do just fine, I'm sure of it."
Inside the little building, there was a counter with a few workers at the back of the room and a roped off line winding up to them. There were a few chairs by the window and an open door leading to another room. Even though the place had just opened five minutes ago, somehow there were already several people in line in front of us.
Esme and Emmett both stood in line with me. I was nervously shuffling my feet and playing with the strings of my jacket, winding them tightly around my fingers, until Emmett slapped my hands away and bumped my foot with his.
After a short wait we got to the front of the line, where Esme took over. I stood next to her while Emmett hung back.
The older man at the counter started asking for all these things I didn't have. A social security card, a photo ID, and forms, none of which I had known about. I was just focused on the test. Luckily, Esme was way ahead of me. She handed him all the necessary papers, explaining that I didn't have a photo ID but she had both my birth certificate and social security card. They were apparently sufficient.
While the man was tapping away at his computer, I looked over at her, amazed that she had handled all of that so efficiently and wondering how she had gotten all of my stuff. She told me quietly that all of my lost papers had been replaced in Seattle and given to her and Carlisle, as my guardians.
I felt stupid that I hadn't already thought about all of those things. Did I think they were just going to magically give me a new ID?
Lost in my thoughts, I was alarmed when the man said I could go in the back room for the test. It had happened so fast. I looked at Emmett.
"Relax. Take some deep breathes." He did a few sample ones, exaggerated with his arms motioning in large, wavelike circles, clearly making fun of me. I shoved his shoulder, rolling my eyes and cracking a small smile.
Esme pointed me into the doorway of the other room. I went in that direction, leaving the other two behind. Once I was out of their sight, I felt a little nauseous but at the same time had a satisfied, accomplished feeling. I had never been alone in public like this. Well, aloneish. I mean, they were like twenty feet away. But still.
This room was similar to the first with another counter which was lower with a lady sitting behind it. Also there were few chairs along the edges of the room and a long table with a few computers.
The man from the counter met me and told me to sit at one of the five computers.
"Follow the instructions, go to the counter when you're finished. Hand her this form." He gave me a yellow paper. He sounded bored. I nodded quickly and he was gone.
I sat, waking the computer up before clicking begin and following the directions on the screen. It seemed pretty simple. Twenty easy questions later, I hit finished and got up, walking over to the lady. Nervous about what I would have to answer for her, I stood awkwardly as I slid over the paper. She was clicking buttons on her computer, not even looking at me.
"You only missed one. Sign this screen." She tapped a tiny computer looking thing and handed me a weird looking pen. I signed my name in the box. It was sloppy and weird looking due to lack of practice and use, but she didn't say anything. She still didn't even look at me.
"Okay, sit in that chair," she said while pointing to the chair in front of her computer. "I'm going to take your picture." I looked up, surprised. I spotted the tiny camera just in time to sit up straighter and attempt a smile. It was probably more of a grimace. "Three, two…" There was a flask and that was it.
"You can wait outside, it'll take a few minutes to print."
The fact that she had obviously read my name and seen my face, together, and didn't say a thing about me being who I was, meant more to me than anything else I could possibly accomplish today. Not everyone knew who I was, I could go in public and not be talked about, or followed, or whatever. Even if she did know, she didn't care enough or was nice enough not to say anything. It was such a relief.
I found Emmett and Esme waiting for me on some of the seats by the window.
"Well?" she asked, sounding much more nervous than when I went in.
"It's printing," I said, trying to hide my smile.
Esme immediately got up and pulled me into a hug, saying she was proud of me.
I glanced at Emmett, a little embarrassed, but he was smiling widely too.
As much as I felt like this shouldn't be a big deal, and it really wasn't now that it was over, it was evidence of how much I had changed in a short amount of time. A month ago I would never have done this, and now I was learning that it wasn't so hard at all. I had pictured driving as something far off and impossible for me. Too many obstacles had been in my way. Now there weren't any. I had a car to drive, I had a permit, and I had accepted Carlisle's help in teaching me. All of those things seemed like nothing now, instead of the huge mountains they had been from the other side.
Emmett wanted me to drive home, which Esme thankfully did not allow. Instead, she insisted we go out to breakfast to celebrate.
Normally that would have me freaking out, but I was feeling pretty good today. I could do breakfast.
And I was fine, until we were sitting in a little booth in a diner, looking at menus. I hadn't been to a restaurant like this and I didn't really know what to do. How did this work? I looked around, trying to get my bearings a little.
My hands had gotten sweaty all of a sudden and I could feel my breathing picking up. I wiped my palms on my jeans, trying to pull myself together. Just when I had decided I would just do everything Emmett did, he came to my rescue.
"Do you like French toast?"
"Uh…I guess." I didn't really know.
"They have the best French toast, ever. Get it," he instructed.
"Edward can get whatever he wants, don't be so bossy Emmett," Esme scolded.
"No, that sounds really good." I nodded, closing my menu and putting it down, relieved that I wouldn't have to figure out an acceptable breakfast food on my own.
The lady came to take our order and I just Emmett's lead, ordering orange juice and French toast. I felt extremely awkward but I don't think it was that noticeable to other people. Next time I would be better.
While we waited for our food, Esme asked Emmett some questions about school and if he was preparing for finals. Apparently they were shortly after classes resumed. Emmett grumbled about having to study on break but it reminded me that I would get to start my own 'classes' soon enough. It was something I was really looking forward too, even though it meant that I wouldn't have Emmett around during the day to entertain me. It would be weird not having him around all the time.
"At least you still have New Year's Eve before everything starts again."
"Oh, right. I was supposed to ask you, Edward. There's a party Friday night at Bella's for New Years. Me and Alice were planning on going, she invited you."
My face heated up, I don't know why, and I looked at my lap, uncomfortable.
"It'll just be a small thing. Nothing crazy, I swear. Her dad always works the overnight so the house is empty. But I mean, her dad is a cop, so it's not like anything wild happens." He laughed. Slightly uncomfortably.
I thought about it for about three seconds before I decided that was about the last thing I wanted to do. While I didn't mind their friends, actually sometimes enjoyed being with them, I didn't think I was ready to go to somebody's house, late at night with no way of leaving. I was pretty sure that was a sure way to send me into some type of freak out and I definitely didn't want to ruin a holiday with their friends like that.
"So, will you come?" Emmett asked, somewhat hopeful.
Not sure how to refuse politely, I just shook my head, trying to smile apologetically while avoiding all eye contact. They were silent for a minute. I was pretty sure they had exchanged some type of look.
"Are you sure? You know you wouldn't have to stay the whole time. You could go for a few hours and I could come pick you up whenever you wanted," Esme offered.
Yeah, great, that was so much better. Just make it extra obvious that I was a freak and that I have to get picked up before my bedtime, no thanks.
I shook my head, more strongly this time.
"Well if you change your mind, the offer still stands. We do it every year, it'll be fun." Emmett was obviously trying to make it sound more appealing but there was nothing he could say to change my mind. I would much rather stay home and do something easy.
By the time I had finished my food, I was completely stuffed. Emmett seemed much the same but when Esme didn't finish her eggs, he ate those too. Esme paid and then we finally headed home.
When we were in sight of the car, I remembered Emmett's little game and took my chance to beat him. He wasn't paying attention, so I said, "shotgun," not as loudly or dramatically as he had, but still enough to get the point across.
He stopped walking and looked at me. At first I thought he was mad, but then I heard Esme's laughter and realized if he was angry, it was only because I had beat him at his own game. He tried to keep a straight face but pretty soon he failed and he was laughing along with his mom.
"That's totally not fair. You said you liked the backseat better," Emmett complained.
"But you said the rules were always in effect," I told him innocently. He laughed even harder at this, seemingly pleased that I was playing along after all.
Smiling, I climbed into the front seat, pleased with the day's work.
My happiness lasted exactly as long as it took Esme to remind me about my appointment with Dr. Garrison for later that day.
I hadn't seen her for the past week and I felt like surely I would have to make up for it today. A lot of shit had happened in the days since I had seen her. I knew either Esme or Carlisle talked to her on a regular basis, updating her on what had happened with me in the past days, because she always knew before I told her.
I was expecting her to lecture me on my midnight walk through the woods, but when I sat down across from her, she took a completely different strategy.
"I'd like to start something new today, if that's okay with you."
"Okay…" I said hesitantly.
Instead of explaining, she asked me, "Why do you think I want you to talk about James?"
We had gone over this before, so I knew the answer she was looking for. "Because, or else I won't ever deal with what happened."
"And why is that a bad option?"
"Um…because I won't get better if I ignore it."
"And you want to feel better, right?"
I saw where she was going and didn't really like it.
"I guess so."
"So you'll be okay with starting to work though some things you haven't talk about yet? About your time at his home, I mean."
I scratched my head, thinking about what she said. We both knew I didn't want to. The easy thing to do would be to refuse, but then I knew she would talk to me about Christmas. And that was probably easier, but like she said, I had to start this sometime. I felt like so far she had just been testing me, seeing how I would react to different things. It didn't really seem like she had actually started with what she really wanted to do. And that was inevitable. So I nodded. I was having a pretty good day, and maybe I would be able to stay on track and deal with this stuff in a positive way. If I could do that, I wouldn't have to feel so shitty about these meetings all the time. There would be hope that they wouldn't all be awful and make me feel like shit.
"That's great, Edward. I would imagine talking about James seem a bit overwhelming, am I right?"
I nodded, glad she saw that. "I have no idea where to start." It was eight years' worth of material. How would I narrow it down enough to have something to talk about for an hour?
"Well how about we start at the end, instead of the beginning. You remember the end the best I would imagine. You can tell me about it while it's still fresh in your mind."
"What about it?" I already was feeling a little anxious. Trying to decide what to share and what I needed to keep to myself would be difficult.
"Tell me about the day you escaped from him. That was one of the most important days of your life, don't you agree?"
I shrugged.
"Tell me what happened when you woke up that morning."
"Nothing different. It was just like every other day."
"But it wasn't a regular day. Take me through what happened."
Sighing, I resigned myself to doing what she asked. Going through the day in my head was something I tried not to do, but if she thought it was a good idea, it was worth a shot. It wouldn't be so bad. I had lived the real thing, after all.
"I woke up before he did. He always got mad if I was asleep when he came to get me."
"Came to get you?"
"Yeah, before he went to work, he would come and get me so I could go to the bathroom, brush my teeth, and shower if he had time."
"Only if he had time? Why was that?"
I swallowed, knowing this was where it would get sticky. Already. Not that I ever made much eye contact with her, but I made sure to pick a spot on the ground so I didn't have to look at her when I told her.
"He never let me shower alone. He was always in the bathroom, whenever I was."
"Why do you think he did that?"
"I don't know why he did it at first. But when I was older, he was afraid I would try to leave. He would get ready for work while I showered, shaving and brushing his teeth and stuff. I only had a couple minutes, so sometimes he wouldn't let me if he didn't have much time."
"Did he let you that morning?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. What happened next?"
"Nothing really. He brought me back to my room. I got dressed. I went back to sleep for a while, probably."
Thinking about getting dressed at his house almost made me laugh now. My clothes would make Alice cry. I didn't have many, and the shirts and pants he did bring me were used, I don't know where he got them. I didn't care at the time. It didn't matter what I had on. Just as long as I had something. I had this one sweatshirt. It was just solid red, nothing on the front like the ones my parents bought me. I remember when he gave it to me, it was so big on me. But I grew into it and by the time I left, it was getting too small. I wore it every day though, glad I had something to keep me warm besides the blankets. I hadn't thought about it since I left, but now that I remembered, I kind of missed it.
"I don't really remember what I did all day. I didn't realize anything special was going to happen that day."
"What did you do to pass the time usually?"
"I had books. He brought them sometimes, just some old books somebody gave him, but I read them a lot. And my school books. I went through those all the time. I slept a lot. As much as I could, usually. I had notebooks and stuff that he brought me, I used to draw in them. Sometimes I'd just lay around and think." Or try not to think, more accurately.
"Did you get breakfast?" she asked me, sounding casual. It didn't sound like she was asking to be judgmental. Like she wasn't asking if I was fed on a regular basis.
"Yeah. Usually. He brought like cereal or bread, like bagels and toast and stuff. Whatever he had time to do."
"What about drinks?"
I shook my head, explaining. "He kept these big plastic containers in my room with water in them so he didn't have to keep bringing me stuff."
"I see. So you were alone in your room until when? What happened after that?"
I scratched my head and thought about her question. To be honest, I didn't remember everything about that day. You would think that it would be pretty engrained in my mind, but not really. I think because I hadn't thought about it hardly at all, some of it was lost. The major points were still crystal clear though.
"I don't remember everything specifically. He usually came home, probably around five or six, I never paid attention to time. At the beginning, he would come upstairs and take me to the bathroom, then bring me dinner later. But I always stayed in my room. But when I was older he let me out of my room when he got home from work. Not always. But he did that night. He'd come and unlock my door and wait for me to go downstairs in front of him. He'd always have the front door locked already and I never saw the blinds open downstairs."
"What did you do when you were downstairs?"
Shaking my head, I told her, "Not much. Usually we just ate dinner. Then he'd either say I could clean up the mess or go back to my room." He had always said it like a joke. Like it was funny to give me options like that, because I didn't really want either, so he made me pick between two bad options.
"Which did you choose that night?"
"I always cleaned the kitchen. I didn't mind it. It was something to do to pass the time, which I knew I didn't have in my room. I spent as much time out of it as possible." It wasn't ever that much time, maybe an hour or two, but it broke up the routine, and that's what mattered. Until it became routine too, but it was still good to move around.
"Afterwards, sometimes he let me watch TV with him for a while. Other times I went back to my room."
The silence was almost buzzing with what I didn't say. We both knew what happened after I went back to my room.
"What was different that night?" she asked softly.
"I was in the kitchen. I thought he was on the couch, I could hear the TV on. I went to get something from the counter, to bring it to the sink. I don't know why, but for some reason, I looked up at the door. I always tried not to look at it. I knew he got mad about stuff like that. But I did, and it was unlocked."
What made me sick about this whole thing was that if James wasn't standing there when I looked up, I probably wouldn't have done anything. I probably would have pretended I didn't notice, for fear of getting in trouble. I sometimes wondered about if he had ever left the door open before. I never looked at it, so it was entirely possible that it wasn't the first time he had forgotten. But I didn't look, I didn't even try.
"What did you do then?"
"I didn't do anything. I didn't know what to do, but before I had time to think, James was there. He must have been coming back to get something from the kitchen. He was staring at me, really mad."
"Did he say anything?"
"No, he never talked much at all. He just picked up this plate. I didn't even move towards the door. He just assumed I would go for it. So he hit me." I couldn't believe I was telling her all of this, but I seemed to have some momentum now and I didn't want to stop. I kept going, talking fast and a little out of breath. "He did it really hard. He hit me before, but never like that and it scared me. I think I was unconscious for a second. It just shocked me that he hit me so hard and I don't think I even thought about it, but I hit him back. And I think it was really hard too, because he fell and he didn't move and it scared me even more. I knew he had been drinking and that's the only time he got violent. I didn't want him to be mad at me and I knew it would be really bad when he woke up. So I ran."
"You ran out the unlocked door," she repeated. I nodded. "That was the first time you had ever been outside that house, correct?"
I nodded.
"That took a great deal of courage."
I looked up at her for the first time, surprised and confused at what she said. I had been thinking the exact opposite, how pathetic it was that I had never been able to try it before. Her face only conveyed honesty though, like she really meant it.
"But I should have tried to leave earlier," I mumbled, looking away again.
"Why didn't you?"
"I don't know…I was just scared I guess."
"Scared of what?"
"Of him."
"What do you think he would have done to you?"
I shrugged. "Don't know. He usually just got mad and yelled, but for a lot less. If he had caught me trying to leave…he probably would have hit me even if he wasn't drinking, to start."
"So you were protecting yourself by following his direction."
"But I should have risked it. I mean, that was the first time I had ever even tried. Maybe I could have gotten out a long time ago. I never even checked the door, maybe he forgot all the time and I just happened to notice that day."
"If James hadn't seen you, hadn't hurt you when he saw what you were doing, would you have ran?" she asked, her head tilted in interest
"I don't know. Probably not," I said shamefully.
"Why not?"
I had to think about it, but I was honest when I answered. "Because nothing would have changed. I could have pretended everything was normal. I didn't know how to leave, or what to do when I left."
"And you think that's something to be ashamed about?"
"How can I blame him for keeping me there when I wouldn't leave?" I wondered, a little desperately. Putting it all in words like this really made me realize I should have acted sooner. I should have done something, not just sat there and let it happen. I was disgusted with myself, now that I knew what would have happened had I gotten out sooner. I would have had a home to go to, I would have been fed and clothed and safe. Those were all mysteries before, I didn't know if I would have them. Where would I go if I did get out? I didn't' know, so why would I leave to go someplace even worse?
"What James made you do, forcing you to stay in his house, was not your decision or under your control. After eight years, it's completely reasonable to be intimidated by the thought of leaving his house. Despite the many negative things that happened there, you knew you could survive, you knew how to act and what to do in order to get by. Being afraid to leave that is a very rational way to look at your situation."
"But if I had left earlier, I could have stopped it and I could be so different. If I had gotten out sooner, I could be normal. I would have had so much more time to fix this."
As much as she tried to rationalize my decisions to make me feel better about them, I could only see my way. If I had escaped right after it happened, I might not even remember it. I've basically ruined my life, all because I was too scared to risk running from him.
"You have time to fix it now. You have all the time in the world," she pointed out. That may be true, but I still had eight years less than what I should have had.
Seeing my disagreement, she continued. "Do you honestly believe you could have made it out of his house that much sooner? He's a fully grown, military trained man, and you were a child."
"I don't know. But I didn't even try."
"You were protecting yourself. You did the right thing. Obeying him and keeping yourself safe was the only way to make it to where you were that day, when you finally had the chance and were capable of running, and succeeding."
I shrugged, still thinking that I would never know how much pain I could have avoided, but I knew I had other chances. A single day in his house seemed like an eternity now, and avoiding any one of them would have been a blessing.
"There's no use dwelling on things you will never be able to know or change. Don't you think he's taken enough of your time?"
I nodded, agreeing for once.
"Accepting what has happened won't be easy, Edward. But one day, you'll be able to do so and when you can, you'll be able to put it behind you."
How would I ever be able to accept this? It would never be okay. I would never forgive him. I didn't say anything.
"Tell me about this morning." She completely changed topics, smiling at me to continue. Obviously she knew what I had done with Esme.
"I got my driver's permit," I mumbled. The high from this morning was completely lost on me now. She had killed my mood. It took less than an hour to ruin my day.
"That's fantastic, Edward. Its real progress, a big step towards independence."
I shrugged, not very excited about it right at that moment.
"Are you looking forward to learning?"
"I guess so."
"You should try to see this as what it is, a huge step in the right direction. You took the initiative and did something for yourself. That's great progress from the boy that was afraid to leave James' house just a few months ago, don't you think?"
When she put it that way, I saw her point. It was a big leap forward from the person I had been not that long ago. It was hard to imagine myself changing that much, I thought I would always be the same person he had made me. But maybe I could change, and maybe it wasn't that hard to start.
Later that night, Esme and Carlisle announced that they were going out to dinner. Apparently Carlisle had to work the overnight on New Year's, so they were going to celebrate early.
She offered to order us pizza, but Alice said she felt like cooking. So after they left, I found myself in the kitchen with her and Emmett. They had apparently made up, because he was teasing her about being too short to reach the top cabinet.
"Just help me!" she whined, standing on one foot as she reached up to the third shelf.
"I don't know…not sure if I want to give up this power." Emmett pretended to be debating as he sat casually on the bar stool next to me, watching her struggle.
"Fine." Alice gave up trying to reach. She put both hands on the edge, hoisting herself up to kneel on her knees on the counter top.
Emmett immediately hopped up and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her off the counter.
"I don't think so, little one. I am' the top shelf master." While holding his sister, he grabbed the box of seasoning she was after and holding it out for her. She grabbed the single little bottle she was after and huffed, irritated at the trouble he was causing.
Emmett put the box down and finally set her down, patting her on the head. She playfully shoved his chest away from her, turning back to the skillet of chicken that was sizzling away.
Emmett returned to his seat, a smile on his face. Obviously he was pleased that their fight had ended.
The three of us spent the next half hour or so sitting around the kitchen, talking and waiting for dinner to be ready. Of course, they did most of the talking, but I joined in where I could and laughed at their antics.
"Did Emmett ask you if you wanted to go to Bella's on Friday?" Alice asked me as she got plates out for the fajitas she made.
"Yeah."
"And?" she pressed.
All I could do was smile sheepishly and shake my head, a little embarrassed at both of their efforts to include me.
"Really? I think you would have fun…."
"That's okay. I think I'd rather stay."
"But-"
"Don't bug him about it, Alice. I already did," Emmett cut her off. "Do you want hot sauce?" He asked me from where he stood with his head in the fridge.
They decided to watch a movie while we ate. I followed them into the living room with my food, even though I felt weird about it. I told myself it was because I didn't know if Esme would be okay with us eating of her furniture, but I knew the real reason. It made me think of James, and eating in front of the TV at his house. It was hard for me to eat, hard to focus on the movie, hard to keep my face normal and continue to breathe properly. As it often does, the thoughts of where I used to be seemed like they were just under the surface. If I was weak for just a second, they would come flooding in and that would be that.
I felt weird the whole time and as fast as I could finished my plate, I got up to take it to the kitchen.
"Do you want us to pause it?" Alice asked when I got up.
Confused, I remembered it was a movie and she could stop it and wait until I returned. "Oh, no that's okay."
I quickly retreated before either one could say something else. I was grateful when I was alone, or maybe it was because I was out of the living room, I don't know. I knew I didn't want to go back in there right away though. Looking around, I saw the dirty dishes and automatically wanted to clean them.
After rinsing mine, I went to the stove and grabbed the skillet. It was heavier than I expected and I didn't have a very good grip on it, so my other hand went to the bottom before I could think it through. It was still hot. Not like, my hand was on fire hot, because the stove had been off for a few minutes, but the palm of my hand still hurt when I pressed it flat against the bottom. Instinctively, I jerked my hand off. Looking at it, I saw it was pink from the heat. For some reason, I wanted to feel it again. I put my palm back, pressing hard on the heated surface.
The burn was impossible to ignore, but I didn't take my hand away. It didn't feel good, but it felt right. Thoughts of James quickly left and I could only focus on my hand. My brain was basically screaming at my hand to move, and it took literally all of my focus to keep it there.
That's probably why I didn't realize I wasn't alone.
"Hey! What the fuck, stop," Emmett's voice was enough to snap me out of it, but yanking the pan out of my hands and dropped it in the sink with a loud clatter worked even better.
He grabbed my wrist, pulling it towards the faucet but I pulled back.
"I'm fine."
"That pan was really hot, man." He didn't drop my hand, but instead pulled it up to his face to inspect it.
"It wasn't, I swear. I just got distracted for a minute."
"It's burned."
"No, it's not." I insisted.
We both looked at it closely for a second. It wasn't burned. It was just a little red. When Emmett apparently decided I was right, he dropped my hand.
"Fine." He looked at me suspiciously but seemed to drop it.
My hand might have been okay, but what was burning was the spot on my wrist where he had been holding it. I mean, he had been holding it pretty tightly, but it wasn't like a hurting kind of burn. It was weird, but I didn't know what to think of it.
"What are you doing in here anyway? I thought we were watching the movie."
I shrugged. "I was just cleaning up. I mean, she cooked so she shouldn't have to clean up." It sounded like a pretty good reason, even if it wasn't the truth.
"It could have waited." He sounded a little like he was accusing me of something, like he knew I was making it up. He grabbed the few other dishes that had been involved in the cooking process and brought them to the sink, rinsing them off. I went with it, loading everything into the dishwasher and wiping down the cabinet and stove.
When we were done, he looked at me with raised eyebrows. He didn't speak, but what he was asking was loud and clear. What was my excuse now? Not having a good one, I returned back to the living room, Emmett right behind me.
"Jeez, what took so long?"
"I don't know if you've noticed, but Edward here is a bit of a neat freak. He just couldn't focus until the kitchen was spick and span," he told her sarcastically.
Alice obviously didn't know what to say, so she chuckled a little nervously and turned back to the TV.
The next hour and a half I did my best to focus on the movie. Alice moved to the other couch about half way through, curling up on her side with a blanket. That left me and Emmett on the long couch, a few feet between us. Despite the space, I was very aware of him the whole time. I noticed when he crossed his arms, when he repositioned his legs, when he stretched. Not for the first time I wondered why I paid so much attention to him and not anyone else. I mean, I didn't notice anything about Alice.
In fact, by the end of the movie, I don't think I had looked at her once since she switched seats. Now that I finally did, I saw the she had fallen asleep, her eyes closed and her breathing slow.
When the credits started rolling, neither one of us reached for the remote, which I was expecting him to do, either to turn it off or find something else to watch. We just sat there, watching the screen.
"How's the hand?" he asked, his voice loud in the silence.
I rolled my eyes. "It's fine. Nothing wrong with it."
"Mhmm." He didn't believe me.
Looking at Alice, I asked him what had been on my mind all night.
"So you guys aren't fighting anymore?"
"No, not really." He sighed. "She's still a little upset I think. But I don't want to fight with her."
I nodded, as if I understood.
"Edward?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you trust me?"
"What?" I asked, confused by his out of nowhere question. I looked over at him, but he was already watching me, waiting for my answer. He didn't repeat the question. "I think so," I answered honestly. "Why?"
"Because. I want you to. I trust you. If you need to talk about anything….you know. You can talk to me." He said it hesitantly and confidently, all at the same time. If that was possible.
I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say. I felt like I should return the favor, but I didn't think Emmett needed anything from me. I didn't know what to think about his offer either. To be completely honest, I wasn't comfortable telling anything to anyone, but a few times some things had slipped out in front of Emmett. It hadn't made it worse, in fact I think it made me feel better. At least at the time.
"Can I tell you something?"
He looked serious. Which was weird, because he usually was the farthest thing from serious. I didn't know what to make of it. I nodded.
"I know I seemed crazy with Alice. You know, following her and the stuff with Jasper. But I have a reason." He swallowed hard. Continued. "You know when I told you about my parents?"
"Yeah." He didn't tell me much. Just that they did drugs and didn't take very good care of them. I think he said they were in prison.
"Well there's more to the story. I mean, you probably guessed that. But I had a sister. Like a biological sister. Her name was Katherine. Katie. She was only a baby. I mean, I was only a little kid too, but she wasn't even one yet. She died."
I didn't know what to do with the shock. I felt my face basically frozen, I didn't even blink. Emmett didn't move. He didn't say anything, he just let it sink in.
"I'm…I don't know what to say. I'm sorry." I suddenly had a tiny glimpse of understanding. People were like this around me, not knowing what to say or how to react. But I understood a little better now. I didn't have any idea what else to say to Emmett in that moment. I looked at his face.
"Yeah, me too. But that's why I'm not still with my parents. It was sort of their fault. I mean, they didn't do it on purpose or anything, but like I said. They didn't take very good care of us. It was the addiction. But either way, it happened and they went to jail and I came here."
As horrified as I was with this story, it gave me so much to think about. I couldn't imagine why Emmett would want to tell me this. I didn't tell him much at all. But I guess he already knew most of what I could tell. It was both a blessing and a curse.
"But that's why I'm so crazy with Alice. I just don't want anyone to hurt her, you know? When Carlisle and Esme told me they were adopting her, I thought it was my chance for a do over. I was going to have another sister, one that I could take better care of."
The thought of Emmett blaming himself for something that happened made me cringe, but I couldn't correct him. I didn't know enough details, and even though no matter what had happened, it would never be Emmett's fault He could have a good reason for seeing it that way. I knew logically that a lot of the things that happened to me weren't really my fault, but I still felt guilty about them. It wasn't my place to tell him otherwise.
"The older she gets, the harder it is. I can't stop her from doing the things she wants. I just wish she would listen to me sometimes."
I nodded, trying to understand.
"She doesn't know."
My head snapped back to look at him, shocked. He had known me, what? A few months? And he was already telling me, yet he had called Alice a sister for years and she didn't know?
"I don't want her to know. I've asked Mom and Dad not to tell her, and they haven't, as far as I know. I just want her to be happy." He took another deep breath, as if recovering from what he just told me.
"Why did you tell me?"
He hesitated. "I guess I just wanted to tell somebody." He smirked before continuing. "And I wanted you to know that you're not the only person in the world who's had shitty things happen to them."
These words shocked me almost as much as his confession. I knew I visibly flinched, but Emmett didn't seem to care. He did reach over and grab my arm again, looking at my palm closely. I let him. His fingers gripped my wrist tightly.
Apparently deciding it was okay, he thrust it back into my lap. "So stop trying to fuck up your hands. Got it?"
I knew he knew then. He knew I hadn't just had a temporary lapse in consciousness and forgotten I was holding something hot. Maybe Emmett knew me a lot better than I thought he did.
Embarrassed, I quickly nodded, not looking at him.
Right then, as if they'd timed it, we heard the garage door go up. We became quiet again and waited for them to enter without talking or looking at each other. I wouldn't know what to say anyway.
"Hey guys," Esme greeted us. We both stood up, Emmett stretching and cracking his back. "What have you guys been doing?" Esme flicked on the hall light so she could see us in the darkness the living room had previously been in.
"Alice made fajitas and we watched a stupid movie. How was dinner?"
"Oh, you know us. We had a wild night out on the town," Carlisle told him. "How long has she been asleep?" he asked, amused as he hung up his and Esme's coats in the closet.
"A while, I was about to bring her upstairs. I'm getting pretty tired myself."
Amazed that Alice had slept through our conversation, I watched as Emmett lifted her off the sofa and carried her in his arms up the stairs to her bedroom.
"Goodnight," he said as he climbed the last of the steps.
Paying attention for once, I saw Esme watch her adopted son. There was pride in her eyes as he carried his sister up to bed. I wondered if I would ever have that relationship with any of them.
"And how was your night?" she asked me when they were out of her sight.
I shrugged, pretending to be casual. "It was good."
"Did you like the movie?" I nodded. "Dinner was good?" I nodded. "Are you tired?" Even though I really wasn't, I nodded because I knew that's what she would expect of me. "Your session went okay, right?"
"Yeah, it was fine."
She eyed me carefully, trying to find anything worrying in my words.
"Alright, you should go on up to bed. We'll see you in the morning."
As I climbed the stairs, I did my best not to look back. I didn't want to see what would be missing in their eyes.
EmPOV
Tuesday, December 28th
Edward freaking out about his temps test was so ridiculous I could barely contain myself, but somehow I managed. I knew the test was easy, I tried to tell him as much, but he just wouldn't believe me. Watching him read and reread that little book was about the cutest thing I had ever seen, but also kind of sad in a way. He didn't believe in himself at all. I knew he was smart, he would do fine.
Nonetheless, I helped him study. Honestly, I didn't much care what he wanted to do, as long as I got to do it with him. If he wanted to study, we would.
I quizzed him on common sense driving skills until my brain couldn't take it anymore. We did the whole practice test and finally I threw the book aside, assuring him that he was ready.
He was still insecure about the whole thing, which was understandable. I mean, most kids had sixteen years of watching their parents drive them around to base their knowledge off of. Edward didn't have that, so he was coming in with a huge disadvantage. I reassured him anyway, promising it would be a problem. I hoped I was right.
The day before, I ran into his piano teacher when she was leaving after a lesson. Okay, to be honest I was spying on them. I heard her pull up and after they were settled with their backs to the living room, I snuck down and into the kitchen. If I listened hard, I could hear her talking to him, teaching him about scales and helping him get his finger placement down.
I wished I could watch them, but I was afraid I would get caught and Edward would probably be upset. I thought about them sitting so close, about her moving his hands in the right spots, about Edward being totally focused on one person for an extended amount of time. Sarah was a pretty girl. She was out of high school and I'm pretty sure she had a serious boyfriend, but Edward didn't know that.
Shaking my head, I reminded myself that it was absolutely ridiculous to feel jealous about anything involving Edward and his piano teacher. He had never showed any signs of thinking about anything other than leaning to play. But I don't know how much the jealousy was about her specifically or just girls in general. It just hurt to think that one day, no matter how far in the distance, Edward would like a girl. Instead of me. I didn't like the thought at all.
So the question about Sarah came out of my mouth, I knew it was ridiculous. I couldn't stop it though. I just wanted, needed, to know if he was already thinking like that. Was this already something I had to deal with?
Flipping through channels, trying to act casually, I told him, "I talked to Sarah for a bit as she was leaving the other day. I didn't realize she was doing your piano lessons."
He nodded, waiting for me to go on.
"She's older than us but I used to see her around the reservation when we hung out with Jake. She's pretty cool." He nodded again, giving me nothing to work with. So I had to dive in. "She's kinda hot now too. Don't you think?" I didn't look at him directly, but out of the corner of my eye I watched him carefully, waiting for a reaction of any kind.
"Yeah, she's…nice," he said, clearly confused.
Only laughing a little at his naivety, I said, "Yeah, I know she's nice, but do you like her? That would be such a great cliché, having a thing for your piano tutor." Not to mention the very idea of the whole thing made me sick to my stomach. But I just wanted to know. I couldn't stop myself from digging.
"Oh…I uh, I don't know," he stumbled over the words, uncomfortable. But I kept pushing.
"You don't know?"
"I just didn't think about it." He was clearly getting flustered and didn't want to tell me anything else, but that only made me more paranoid. I mean, why would he be so defensive about the whole thing if he didn't like her? He was being all evasive and it scared me.
"How would you not think about it? I mean, she's sitting like right next to you. Wouldn't you-"
"I don't know, I just didn't."
I shouldn't have pushed him. He was mad now. I wished I could take it back and just live with my insecurity, but it was too late.
"Sorry," he said halfheartedly.
"No, sorry I brought it up." I looked back at the TV, trying to pretend like it didn't happen. I could decipher it later.
Shortly after, Edward got up with an irritated huff and angrily threw a pillow at me. Assuming he was mad at me, I tried to apologize.
"Edward, I'm sorry I said anything, we were just talking." I wanted him to know it wasn't a big deal. I must have really struck a chord I didn't know was there. I shouldn't have pushed him.
"Just…never mind." He sounded dejected and disappointed, whether with himself or me I wasn't sure.
When he was gone, I groaned, shoving my face into the pillow he had thrown at me, pissed at myself for ruining what could have been a good night. And for what? I didn't even know what the hell he meant by his answers. He didn't know if he liked someone? What did that mean? That he really did and was embarrassed by it or that he didn't and thought he was supposed to so he was pretending he hadn't noticed? Or maybe he really hadn't noticed, and I was the stupid one for trying to force him into thinking about stuff he wasn't ready for. That was entirely possible. I mean, after all the shit he had been through, the last thing he should be worrying about was girls. Because being a teenager kind of sucked and he didn't need to go through the stress of worrying about whether or not someone liked him.
I don't know when I would learn to just leave the guy alone, but obviously that time was not now.
I hoped he could get over this whole thing before tomorrow. I hoped he would still let me come to his test. I hoped what I said wouldn't distract him. I hoped he wouldn't fail because of me.
Wednesday, December 29th
Of course, I should have known I didn't have to worry about Edward holding a grudge against me. He was an expert avoider, and neither one of us even acknowledged that the incident happened.
Edward wasn't really used to being in public yet. It was a little strange seeing him out among people, to be honest. He was kind of cute, fiddling with his jacket nervously. He stared at his shoes, kicking the tile floor and shuffling his feet around. I watched him for a few moments before I saw Esme doing the same thing. She looked worried, so I slapped his hands away so he would stop. I wanted them both to know that he would be fine.
Esme had already done this twice before with me and Alice, so she was pretty much a pro. She had all of the paperwork ready to go and the whole thing went very smoothly. Edward seemed fine, at least until he was told to go back to the testing room. He looked shocked and like he was going to throw up. I held back a laugh, I mean, what exactly did he think was going to happen? Why he was so surprised, I didn't know.
Once he was back in the room, Esme and I took a seat to wait it out.
"You think he's going to be okay in there?" she asked, craning her neck to try and see in the room.
"Relax. He'll be fine. He knows that book like the back of his hand, I think he memorized it."
"Hmm…I just don't want him to be anxious. He'll be so upset if he doesn't do well."
"Well you can't just not let him ever do anything," I pointed out. "He's gotta get out sometime."
"Speaking of him getting out, I'd like you to invite him to Bella's party on Friday."
"What? But I'm not even going. You know he won't want to go anywhere." Bella's New Year's Eve party was always small, quiet, and with a limited guest list. While I knew I was invited, I also knew Rose was going. There wouldn't be many people there and it would be impossible to avoid her. I didn't think either of us needed that. I was planning on going to a different party that one of the football guys was throwing. It definitely wasn't the type of party Edward could tag along too. Loud music, lots of people, and alcohol were not an equation he factored into.
Esme didn't care. "I want you to go to Bella's, with Edward. He needs to feel included. He'll be more comfortable if you're there. If he doesn't want to go, then that's another story."
I crossed my arms, irritated. It's not like I didn't want to hang out with Edward, it's just that I knew he would never want to go someplace new and have to be stuck there for hours while being forced into awkward conversation. Even if he said yes, it would probably only be because he felt he had to. I didn't want to go, Edward didn't want to go, yet we would both probably be forced into it by my mother.
I wasn't worried until I saw Edward emerge from the back room all embarrassed looking at the floor. I had a brief moment of panic, but of course he hadn't failed.
We went for breakfast and as soon as we got our menus, Edward was anxious again. He was bouncing his knee and looking around like he was trying to find the answers from the people sitting around us. I suggested he get the French toast, which honestly was fucking delicious here, and he calmed down considerably. On the one hand, it sucked that he was so nervous about something as simple as talking to the waitress at a dinner, but then again he had never done it before, at least for a long time, and a little anxiety was probably to be expected. At least the first time was over now and he'd be able to do it the next time with less panic.
Esme caught my eye and raised her eyebrow, waiting for me to do as she asked. I rolled my eyes and then made myself sound as sincere as possible as I asked if he wanted to attend the party. I even threw in some extra incentives, such as the party would be small and nothing crazy would be happening. Of course, he said no. Esme then tried to bribe him, telling him he didn't have to stay the whole time because she would come pick him up whenever he wanted, which I would have found a little insulting if I was Edward. I mean, the guy was a teenager and he didn't want to have to get picked up early from a party by a parent because he couldn't stay out late.
He told her no, too.
I eyed Esme right back, mouthing I told you to her.
Maybe I would get to avoid Rose after all.
Even since Christmas, me and Alice seemed to have reached a truce. I knew she still thought she was in the right, that I should have told her what was going on with me and Rose. I couldn't though, and she was just going to have to deal with that. Either way, she wasn't mad at me anymore and I was long over being openly upset with her.
When Mom and Dad went out for a nice dinner together, she left me with instruction to entertain Edward.
"He had a long session today and he might be upset. I don't want him spending the whole night alone in his room. And make sure he eats dinner."
I felt like a babysitter, but only because of the way she treated him. He wasn't a little kid. I agreed to everything she said so she would give us both some space, but the annoyance lingered long after she left.
Alice made us all dinner, which was awesome. It was nice to spend time with both of them at one time, which hardly ever happened. We started to watch a movie while we ate dinner, but I could tell Edward wasn't okay.
Alice was in between us on the long couch, so that we could all put our plates on the coffee table. The few glances I dared to take at him while Alice was in the room told me that he was stiff and uncomfortable. I had no idea why, but when he vanished into the kitchen only minutes after the movie started, I got worried.
I made a lame excuse to Alice and told her I'd be right back.
"Mmkay…" she said absentmindedly, obviously not really caring that both of us were now gone. She was still eating and pretty focused on the movie.
I was expecting to find him hiding in the kitchen, maybe panicking about something, I didn't know. What I did find was a much more alarming and I instantly raced to him, grabbing the pan out of his hands. He had been holding it, tightly, with his right palm pressed flatly on the bottom.
"Hey! What the fuck, stop," I yelled at him. As I had feared, the pan was still hot, surely it had burned his skin badly. I threw it down in the sink, it clashing loudly. Grabbing his wrist next, I pulled it towards the sink to rinse it under cold water. He yanked it back just as fast.
"I'm fine," he said, defiantly.
"That pan was really hot, man," I pointed out the obvious, but he didn't seem to get it.
I pulled his hand closer to my face, trying to see if what he said was true. The skin wasn't broken or anything, but it was red and it looked like it hurt.
"It wasn't. I swear. I just got…distracted for a minute." He could make all the excuses he wanted, but I felt the pan too and I didn't know how he could be okay after holding it on his bare skin for god knows how long.
"It's burned," I told him simply.
"No, it's not." He sounded irritated.
After inspecting the hand, I decided it really wasn't seriously burned and I let him have it back.
"Fine." I let him win for now, even though I was on to him. Obviously he wasn't just distracted, or whatever he said. He had purposefully hurt himself. It scared me like nothing else ever had with him.
I had witnessed his panic attacks, puking, shaking, and near hyperventilation, but I never thought he would purposefully subject himself to pain. Like it didn't hurt, when I knew it did.
"What are you doing in here anyway? I thought we were watching the movie."
He shrugged. "I was just cleaning up. I mean, she cooked it so she shouldn't have to clean up."
Mhmm, sure. How could anybody ever focus while there was a dirty pan in the kitchen? I didn't buy it.
"It could have waited."
He didn't have a good answer for that, so I just went with it. I started cleaning the kitchen, noticing when he followed my lead. When we were done, I looked at him, waiting for some other excuse. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't leaving him alone in here again.
He turned and went back into the living room. I followed, satisfied.
While I pretending like I was fascinated by the actors running amuck in Los Angeles, I didn't really pay a lot of attention to anything other than the boy next to me.
Most of the time I stayed very understanding of what he was going though. As much as I could understand, anyway. I had been a foster kid and thrown into this family too, and I tried to sympathize with him with on the whole kidnap thing. Like obviously.
But there came a point when all of his shit started to piss me off. The guy had it pretty good here. He had two loving parents who blindly accepted him, offering whatever he might need without an ounce of repayment. He had complete safety, an opportunity for a new life full of great opportunities. Yeah, he was taking advantage of some of them, maybe as much as he could, but he was also holding himself back so much.
If he wanted to feel sorry for himself and be scared of everything, fine. But when it came to hurting himself like that? It was no longer okay. Maybe he hadn't meant to do it. Maybe he had. But either way, he should have thought about us. The people who were giving our time and energy for him, for the soul purpose of him feeling better. And he just threw it away, like none of our effort had done him any good. Like he was an exception to the rule and no matter what, he would always fall back on his weakness.
I didn't think he owed us anything at all. But I wanted him to try. I wanted him to realize that he could have it a lot worse. I wanted him to help himself.
He moped around all day like the world was out to get him, where in reality, only one man was out to get him, and he wasn't any danger to Edward anymore. His life could be so much worse.
When the movie was over, he asked me about Alice. Somehow, the topic had switched something on inside of me, and I wanted him to know. He should know that he wasn't the only one who had suffered. He wasn't the only one with secrets. If he was so troubled by them that he felt the need to hurt himself and then lie about it, he should know that he could come to me. At least that way he wouldn't have an excuse.
So I told him about my sister. I rarely told anyone about her. In fact, only a few people in my life knew. Most of my friends knew that my parents had been drug addicts and had lost custody of me because of neglect, but I didn't feel the need to share with them who the neglect had really hurt. It was something for me to hold onto.
But Edward was different. He already had so many shitty memories piled on top of him, I highly doubted adding mine would do any damage. In fact, I thought it would help him. If he knew that I had a secret too, something dark that hurt me even years after the fact, it might make him feel a little less isolated.
And I really did want him to trust me. I trusted him, enough to tell him one of my biggest secrets. I felt a little lighter after, just like I did every time I told anybody.
I knew he had a therapist who was trained and logically a much better person to tell serious things too, but still. If he could trust me enough to tell me some of what was on his mind, and then he saw that nothing horrible happened as a result, I think it would make him feel better. I hoped one day he would.
When my parents got home, it was a little like passing the Edward torch. Hopefully Edward didn't notice, but I knew they wanted me to stay with him until they got home. Not that I really thought he would make me, but I did not in the slightest want to talk about my sister anymore, so I was a little eager to be by myself anyway. Instead, I grabbed my other sister, the one I could still protect, and carried her upstairs to her bed.