CHAPTER TWO: WILLOW TREE

The Country

Before

I am a boy from a nowhere town. It's not even a town. Not really. The people here call it the foothills. It's nothing but a bunch of houses and country farmland. The men who live here think they are real cowboys, with the boots and the hats and the stupid grins.

We have exactly three restaurants, one grocery store, a post office and a church. And probably the largest feed and grain store that exists in the entire fucking world.

I've lived here my whole life, but one day I'll get out. And when I do, it will be forever.

I wouldn't be caught dead in a pair of cowboy boots. I don't want to be a farmer or a fucking postal worker or a good, church-going citizen.

If our school had a football team, which it doesn't, I wouldn't be on it. Emmett would be quarterback. He probably would have fucked half of the cheerleading squad too. We don't have cheerleaders or homecoming or the kind of high school they sell in movies. If we did, I'd be the kid who hangs out behind the bleachers. We don't have bleachers.

Here in the sticks we have cow pastures that go on for days and a pathetic, falling down school. We get extra credit for bringing in a roll of paper towels or a package of dry erase markers.

My chemistry teacher insists on saying good morning to every single student that walks through the door. I usually ignore him, but today I wish he would tell me one good thing about this day. I want to scream at him that I'm barely passing this class and I'm down to my last cigarette. There is nothing good about today.

The freeway runs up the middle of this place and it's the only way out. There is nothing to keep me here, except maybe a girl who doesn't know me. A girl with the prettiest skin and the darkest eyes and long, shiny brown hair that I want to wrap around my finger. But I'm willing to bet that she wants out too. Everyone here wants out.

She sits in front of me in this class and takes notes furiously every day. I watch her hair and wonder what it would feel like against my skin.

She has lived down the street from me for a year. In the brand new, two-story, stucco house with the greenest lawn and a sprinkler system. Her house and her clean, white fence belong in the suburbs. The neighbors all still glare when they drive by. They're jealous. Everyone here is jealous of the Swans and their money.

Of all places to retire, they chose this town. They bought a parcel of land and built it up with one of the only two-story houses for miles.

Bella Swan also has a boyfriend. I've gone to school with him forever. When we were in kindergarten he had a He-Man lunchbox. His mother always cut the crust off his sandwiches and packed him chocolate milk. One day, I took his lunchbox during morning recess and ate everything inside. We were five. I don't think the fucker has ever forgiven me. He drives a Mustang and thinks it makes him cool. It's a piece of shit. He's also too pretty to be a dude. If he wasn't such a joke, I'd hate him.

He's waiting for her after class lets out and the sight of his arm over her shoulder makes me want to punch him in the face.

She isn't in any of my other classes and the rest of the day is boring as fuck.

Emmett usually gives me a ride home, but he just got a job at the only place that is ever hiring. He now spends his afternoons carrying around bags of grain for minimum wage.

I have a car, but no license. You have to have money to get a license. You have to take classes and pay for behind the wheel training. You have to have a parent who will sit in the passenger seat and yell at you while you try to park and shit like that. I don't have any of those things. I have a father who is a drunk.

Bella drives her father's Mercedes. It's a pretentious champagne color and it stands out even more than that shiny house. I'm surprised it hasn't been keyed in the school parking lot.

I walk along the windy road, on the seam where the pavement meets the dirt. The occasional car whirs past me, honking when my presence around a bend surprises the driver.

I can always hear them coming and I tell myself that I can jump out of the way if I need to. There is a split second when I can hear and feel the air rush past me as the car passes, and it almost feels like flying.

There is a stretch of road that floods every time we get a storm. The pavement is crumbling away. I can hear a car approaching as I step farther into the street, daring it to hit me.

It doesn't hit me. It doesn't pass. I turn to look as I hear it slowing behind me. I half expect to see the sheriff.

But it's a champagne, sparkling-clean Mercedes.

My feet refuse to move as she pulls up beside me, the window already down.

She looks at me for the first time in my entire fucking life. "Hey." And now she's speaking to me with her perfect lips. "You shouldn't walk that close to traffic. I almost hit you."

I stare at her.

"I'm Bella, by the way."

Of course you are. You live down the street, I sit behind you in first period and I think I'm in love with you.

She raises her eyebrows expectantly. If Emmett were here, he'd be feeding her some smooth line. I've got nothing.

I clear my throat. "Edward." Because it's the only word I know.

The corner of her mouth lifts into a smile. "I know who you are."

She doesn't know shit.

"Need a ride?"

With my hand on the door handle, I hesitate for only a second before opening the door and climbing in. This is the nicest car I've ever ridden in and I'm pretty sure I just ruined her father's floor mat with my shoes.

She smiles at me before turning up the stereo. Windows down, she doesn't say a word. She doesn't even ask me where I live.

She drives by her own house and then passes mine, turning down the dirt road that leads around back, like she knows exactly where she's going. She pulls up under the shade of the ancient oaks, next to my dad's old Camaro. The car cover is hanging off of it, blowing ragged in the wind.

I don't ask her to come in. She just... gets out.

I slam the passenger door a little harder than necessary and quickly scan around for anything that I don't want her to see. It looks like a junkyard back here. She walks over the crunchy gravel, running her hands over everything in her reach. It makes me nervous.

"Don't you need to get home?"

She stills her hand on the edge of a tarp that covers some piece of crap log splitter. "I can go if you want."

"No. I mean, don't. I mean, stay."

I don't know if it's the desperation in my tone or the look on my face, but she doesn't move. "Alright." She drops the edge of the tarp and runs her hands through her hair. "Is your dad home?"

"No, he's at work." Probably. Possibly.

"Where's your mom?"

"Not here."

I don't tell her that I don't remember my mom. I don't tell her what she is.

"Must be nice. My parents are always home."

Yeah. Nice.

I lead her around the side of the garage and into the house.

She follows silently without a word and I don't know what this is. I don't know what's happening.

We stand awkwardly in the living room. My house has wall-to-wall pink carpet. And floral drapes. It's gross and an ever-present reminder of who used to live here.

I'm embarrassed to have Bella here. Embarrassed for her to see how I live. She doesn't comment on the decor. She stares out the back window, appraising the wild land.

"You have a dog?"

"No dog. Just a dog run."

Eyebrow raised. "And a dog house."

"And a dog house," I repeat back, rather than explain the ridiculousness.

She points over to the stables. "Let me guess, there aren't any horses in there either."

"No, no horses."

She continues to stare out the window, her eyes far away in thought. "Do you ever wonder about the people who used to live here?"

Her question makes my heart race. "No." My mother used to live here.

"That's one of the best parts of old houses," she goes on, "they have this whole history and you're just a small part of their story."

I stare at her profile. "What?"

"The stables, the dog house, it all belonged to someone. Can't you just imagine the family who lived here once? What it might have been like? It makes me want to peel back the wallpaper and see what's underneath."

"You think about weird shit."

She smiles at me, blushing slightly, before quickly turning away, staring back out the window. Her face is mostly hidden from me and I wish I hadn't said that.

I grab her wrist without thinking, forcing her to look at me. I can feel her pulse under my thumb, fluttering away. I know I should let go, but I don't.

She yanks her arm away instead, holding it protectively up to her chest. "I'm not afraid of you."

Fuck. "Don't go."

"I didn't say I was going." I don't know if she's brave or stupid.

I step closer to the windowsill with my hands resting on the ledge next to hers. My elbow brushes against her arm. She doesn't move away.

"Hey, have you ever climbed that tree?" she asks, her voice laced with excitement.

"When I was a kid."

She laughs. "What are you now?"

I have no idea what I am now, but I've had just about enough of looking at the yard.

I push away from the windowsill and make my way to the kitchen. She follows me silently. I watch her eyes travel over every inch of the walls. I pull a bottle of vodka from the freezer and two glasses from the dishwasher.

"Want a drink?"

She just stares at me for the longest time. I wish she wouldn't. I'm the one to look away.

Before I can pick up the bottle again, she grabs my hand, pulling me along towards the sliding glass door that leads to the back deck. As soon as the fresh air meets her lungs, she lets go of me and makes a run for it like she's trying to get out of the rain. Except the sky is the bluest blue. I can't help but chase after her, following her hair as it whips in the wind and the hypnotizing sound of her laugh.

Bella's property is covered in wildflowers. Ours is covered in star thistle.

We are the only house around with a willow tree. They belong near river beds. They steal the water from the ground.

She doesn't even hesitate. She's climbing up, taking advantage of the lower branches that have never been trimmed. I stand on one of the large roots and watch her. She doesn't know what she's doing but she doesn't care.

She settles herself on a thick branch and smiles down at me, breathless and laughing. "Aren't you coming up?"

And so we sit in the old willow tree. The one that sucks the ground dry. Surrounded by the hanging branches, the rest of the world doesn't exist. It's the two of us.

Her fingers play with the swaying branches. "This would have been the coolest place to grow up."

She pulls at the branch in front of her face, peeling it from the tree.

I'm mesmerized by her hands as she twists the branch around and around, until it's all tucked in. She reaches over and places it on my head. And then she laughs. She laughs hysterically until I'm laughing with her.

"I'm sure I look like a fool."

"No. Not a fool."

"Then what?"

She blinks twice. "You look happy."

I try to get rid of my grin but I can't.

"Edward, why aren't we friends?"

You're too good. Too pretty. Too taken. And I don't want to be your friend.

"I don't know."

"Well, we should be friends. I decided. Need a ride to school tomorrow?"

"What about your boyfriend?"

She scoffs at me. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"But I thought... I mean, I thought..."

"Well you thought wrong." She laughs again. Like I'm the funniest person in the world. "Jake's not my boyfriend."

Thank fucking God. But I've seen the way he looks at her. The way he always has his hands on her. I'm not that stupid.

"So, your parents won't let you date?"

"Oh they'd be thrilled if I had a boyfriend. I'm pretty sure my mother's biggest fear is that I might be a closeted lesbian."

I can't help but chuckle. "Then what's the problem?"

"I don't want to be like them. Married to someone I have nothing in common with because I was stupid enough to think I was in love at seventeen."

"So you love him then?"

She rolls her eyes but doesn't ask who I'm talking about. "I don't even know what that means."

I love you.

"I want to finish high school and go to college in the city. My parents are trying to bribe me to move back here after school. We'll see."

Of course she'll go to college. Of course.

"What about you? Where do you want to go to school?"

This conversation is making me feel like a loser. I'm not going to college. "Did you know most of the trees here are riddled with mistletoe?"

"What?"

"Mistletoe. It's a parasite. It attaches itself to the oak trees."

She doesn't believe me. "The same stuff that people hang up at Christmastime and kiss under?"

"Yeah."

I wish we were sitting in an oak tree. I want to kiss her. In a tree.

"You know weird shit, Edward."

I pull the beaten pack of cigarettes and my lighter from my pocket. I hold my last one in my fingers, rolling it back and forth.

She stares while I light it.

I take a drag, close my eyes and let the nicotine hit my lungs.

I hold the cigarette out to her. I don't tell her it's my last.

She wrinkles her nose up. "Smoking is disgusting."

I choke out a laugh. "I'm quitting tomorrow."

"Sure you are."

"This is my last one. I swear." Especially now that smoking is disgusting.

"Hey, Edward?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't like liars."

I take the tree branch crown from my head and place it on hers. She doesn't smile. She wants something else. Something I can't give her.

She brushes the leaves from her face. "Well, I should get home."

Panic immediately begins to fester in my gut. I want to grab hold of her again. This time, I don't. I watch her hair as she slowly climbs down.

She leaves me in the willow tree with my cigarette.

I listen to the sound of her car on the gravel as she drives out under the old oaks.

I don't like liars either.

-HL-

A/N:

Thank you for all of the support for the first chapter!

Susan and Kim, thanks for being smart, for making this better and for loving high school.

To those of you who asked, all chapters will be EPOV.

This story won't have a linear timeline. It's not meant to be confusing, it's just the way it wanted to be told in my head. One day I'll write a normal story like a normal person ;)

Next update on Tuesday :)