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Disclaimer: nopidy nope nope nope not mine
A/N: Sorry this took 200 million years! I wrote and rewrote it a couple o' times before getting the basic idea of where I wanted to go with this thing.
Anyway, here goes nothing.
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I felt an elbow nudge me in my side and jumped, waking up to the drawl of the English teacher. He was glaring at me, and I know he saw me sleeping, but I just smiled good-naturedly at him. Then I turned to Alice, who was shaking her head at me.
"Cracking," she whispered with a sigh, using the pet-name she stole from hearing Lauren Mallory gush about me, "Or, you will. If you keep going on the way you're headed, that is."
She drew bunnies wearing masquerade-ball masks on her notebook. I frowned at her.
"Crack?" I asked, my voice thick with sleep. I rubbed my eyes. I thought I'd been doing okay. It's been like…a week? Yeah, a week of this boring hell. I've been an angel. Well, except when I not-really-by-accident tripped Mike for calling Lauren over to talk to us. Lauren actually looked plastic when she smiled. Her eyes told the real story: she wanted me. God only knows why, but I was steering away from that girl, running and screaming like my ass was on fire. She looked like she could hurt me with those claws.
"That's what I said, didn't I?" Alice said with a tone of finality. But I knew, and I didn't need to really ask. We had talked about this before:
I was either going to become boring and blah like the rest of these Forkians. Or I was going to fuck up. Bad. And I didn't really know which one I preferred, but so far I was holding out pretty okay.
I grumbled wordlessness, snuggling my cheek on my extended arm resting on the table again. A week of this and I still wasn't used to first period where I should be having vivid dreams of California and fires and, oddly enough, Bella. I mean, the dreams weren't like creepy or anything, but she sometimes made appearances. Just…there. Not saying anything, but kinda looking at me.
And then I woke up to Alice elbowing me. Normally. Sometimes I'd wake up with my ass on the floor and the whole class plus the teacher staring at me.
A week of getting up and eating toast with butter and jelly.
A week of riding in the car with Bella and making casual small talk before she'd go all quiet and fidgety again.
A week of Alice giving me coffee that didn't do shit for my consciousness.
A week of hearing people whisper about me as I go by, me still wondering what they heard and what they haven't heard.
A week of green vests and work and absolutely nothing interesting happening ever.
I locked my lighter in my cabinet. Firstly because I didn't want to give into the boringness by smoking, because then I'd be nothing but one giant, ashy, lung by the time I was out of here. Secondly because I was resisting temptation.
Alice rummaged through her notebook, pulling out a crumpled ball and chucking it at my head. I squinted one eye open and looked at the paper that had fallen on my lap. Alice was back to doodling already and I sighed, not having the energy to call her out on the fact that she could have just handed me the piece of paper.
I un-crumpled it and read the headline: PIE-FIGHT WORLD RECORD BREAKING!
Underneath was a picture of rows upon rows of tables with pies on them
I flipped the piece of paper over and noticed Alice had already written a nice letter of explanation. I actually had once asked her if she was psychic, and she had just laughed….I don't really know what that means, but I'll store it away with all the other weird Alice-isms I'd come across in the past week. I read the letter:
Jasper's coming to town next Saturday, and I wanted you to meet him, but then I found this thing and decided to bring both of you along.
That's about as cleared up as it was going to get. She'd already told me, prefacing the news with 'and don't make fun of his name', that her boyfriend's name was Jasper and he was travelling around America selling eco-friendly items and kosher hot dogs. He was a high school drop-out, now 19, and Alice said they were soul mates.
Obviously.
The guy sells kosher hot dogs and tie-dyes his own canvas bags to sell to America.
Need I say more?
I still hadn't responded yes or no yet, wondering what kind of freakish area she was in that had this flier flapping around, but Alice nudged me with another piece of paper.
It'll be a break from the ol' grind. I promise.
Right. For the whole cracking thing. I appreciated the gesture…
The change in routine wouldn't hurt, I guess. But it was the 'okay' from the Chief that was the issue.
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Bella
I put my notebooks in my locker and grabbed my car keys, looking with envy at Alice's new outfit. Ripped white, loose tank top with holes that showed a blue and green striped tank top she wore underneath. Grey, faded skinny-jeans and red Converses. And she seemed to have a sticker on her forearm that, in multi-colored letters, read, "If you can see this, you may lick me." She also had silver paper clips in her hair, used as clips.
Edward, even though he was walking next to this amazing, independent, free-spirited, beautiful girl with paper clips in her hair, looked glum. And bored. As usual.
"God, what is she wearing?" I heard Lauren's whispered voice ask next to me. I threw up mentally, and punched her mentally, and ripped out her pretty blonde hair mentally.
Then I turned to her with a blank stare, as if I hadn't heard what she said.
"Sorry?" I asked, smiling politely. She was leaning against a locker, filing her nails like a tool, and chewing her gum (like a tool!)
"Why does Edward always hang out with that freak?" Lauren asked, glaring at Alice with lowered eye-lids. I didn't answer, which was the nicest thing I had to say. She doesn't know how I'd kill to be Alice's friend. I mean, Alice smiled and waved and hugged me at random moments, but she did that with everyone. I mean everyone. Some people freaked out, other people laughed, other people got all wide-eyed, and then some people hugged her back. No matter what their reaction, Alice just skipped off with her knitted purse that looked like she had knit it herself.
Why oh why was she so perfect?
"Where does he even live, anyway?" Lauren asked. I screeched mentally, because I seem to be doing a lot mentally, and gave her a raised-eyebrow, calm look.
"You drive him to work, right?" she said, raising her eyebrows back. Oh yes. Lauren and I had already discussed this, and the story was that Edward didn't have a car (which was true) and that Chief Swan offered me up as a car-pooling buddy (which was also true, but it left out the part where he was living with me). Lauren was jealous, but she hadn't said more after I explained it to her.
"Yup," I said, busying myself with adjusting my notebooks in my locker.
"So you drive him back?"
"Alice does," I lied…sorta. She did sometimes. Charlie already knew what a good kid she was, and he figured she was a good influence on Edward. But mostly I picked him up or he walked. At least, that's what the routine was for the past week.
"Oh."
Lauren scrunched up her face and snapped her gum. The stalkerness, though slightly understandable, was beginning to bother me. I was uncomfortable with her prying so closely. And besides, how would she feel about the love of her life when she realized that he was exiled here for some crime. How would she react if she found out the crime?
How would I act?
I mean, I probably would be okay about it, because I know it's there. I just don't know what it is.
For the past week, I'd been trying to subtly figure out who the real Edward was. Behind all his 'I'm-trying-to-be-good' looks and blank stares out the window of my truck. I was wondering if I was comfortable prying too close. I'm normally not, and normally I'm content with just letting things appear as they seem, but…now I wanted more than content. I wanted to know.
I slammed my locker shot, with maybe a bit too much force, and it startled Lauren who was deep in thought.
"Where are you going?" she asked and damnit all, couldn't she not be nosy for one second?
"I need to go put something in my car before Bio," I said, waving my keys and my stupid stick-figure statue I made in art at her. If I didn't put it away now, I'd let it sit in my locker forever, and then I'd feel guilty about throwing it out at the end of the year.
"Oh," she said, smiling slowly, "Well, I'll see you later then."
I nodded, turning on my heel and marching purposefully towards my truck. I'd never cut a class before, but I was seriously considering hopping in and driving somewhere far away where I could, I don't know, sit and listen to music or something. Or just, do nothing.
When did I get so boring?
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I needed to get a cat or something because seriously, I was talking to myself now. At least if there was some furry animal hanging around I could pretend like I was talking to it instead of to myself. But then I'd have to deal with cat poop…
I sighed and ripped open a box of spaghetti, murmuring my hatred of Lauren and this stupid town. Funny, I never minded this town before. Had I finally wake up from my stupor? Was I finally seeing how much I hated that stupid school and all its stupid teenage nonsense?
Angry, I kicked the cabinet underneath the stove with the point of my toe and ouch that hurt.
I yelped, hopping on one foot and feeling stupid when my hand slipped on the box of pasta that I was going to pour into the pot of boiling water. Feeling even more stupid when I slipped and landed flat on my butt, the pasta flying everywhere.
Nope. I was still Bella. I clearly haven't changed.
Hormonal maybe? My clumsiness usually escalates when I PMS.
Huffing and rubbing my toe in a carpet of uncooked spaghetti sticks, I blew my hair out of my face and nearly died when I saw Edward standing with his elbows pressed against the counter and his eyes wide.
"Errr," I said, blushing some brilliant crimson color, "Hi."
Great. Now he thinks I'm a crazy woman. How excellent. And I was just getting to know the guy…oh well, isn't the first person I've driven away with my spazztic personality.
"How much of that did you see?" I asked, trying to get to my feet. Edward snatched the broom off the hook on the wall, which Charlie put there after realizing my tendency to break or drop things, and held out a hand.
"I walked in about," he mused, his eyes at the ceiling as he pondered, "When you tried to beat up the cabinet."
I took his hand with a grateful smile even though my face was on fire.
"Oh, I didn't hear you," I murmured, embarrassed. He smiled and once I was steady, I dropped his hand like it was a disease. I felt my adrenal glands kicking in when he stood two inches from me, his eyes surveying the damage in the kitchen all casual-like while I was having a mini heart attack because he smelled really good and had this attractive haze rolling off him that made me want to step closer.
Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight.
"Um," he said, finally looking at me, "So, cereal tonight then?"
I laughed and took the broom from his hands, shaking my head.
"I have macaroni too," I said, bending down to sweep up the debri.
Edward bent down too, scooping up spaghetti in his hand and placing it in the dustpan I was holding. I gave him a timid, grateful smile and he smirked in response. Then I stood up to quickly and knocked heads with Edward.
"Ouch," I murmured as he just laughed, standing up and steadying me as I held my head.
"You okay?" he laughed, ducking his head a little to look into my eyes.
"I'm fine," I said, waving it off even though I was red again from the extra clumsiness today, "Um…are you-"
"I'm fine," he said, still laughing as he took the dustpan from me. When his back was turned, I scolded myself silently.
I rubbed my eyes and grabbed a box of macaroni from a cabinet.
"I'd tell you that I'm not always this clumsy," I said, glancing over at him sheepishly as I adjusted the dials on the stove, "But then I'd be lying."
"Really?" he asked. I nodded, blushing and focusing on the bubbling water in the pot. I felt the macaroni being taken from my hand.
"In that case, maybe I should handle dinner," he said teasingly, taking the box from me. He still had his green vest on, a black t-shirt underneath, a black sweatband in the middle of his forearm, and his same ratty sneakers. I noticed there was a red button on his vest that said, 'eat children' in plain pink lettering.
"That's a friendly button," I said, walking over to get the butter from the refrigerator as he dumped the pasta in.
"Alice gave it to me," he laughed, "This button is nothing compared to what her vest looks like."
"Your boss doesn't mind?"
"I hardly see the guy. In passing, if anything."
"Oh."
I handed him the butter, grabbing a water from the refrigerator.
"Want something?" I asked, proud of myself for being so casual with the guy. Actually, it was easier than it thought. Nice, even. He had a kind of calming vibe, despite the fact he made my heart go berserko with conflicting emotions.
"Yeah, got any scotch?" he asked. I tossed him a narrow-eyed look and he rolled his eyes, smirking at me.
"Kidding, Bella," he said, amused with my reaction, "I'll take a soda, pretty please."
I handed it to him and he stepped away from the stove, glancing at his watch and opening the can with one thumb. I gnawed on my lip.
"How long are we supposed to wait for these things?" he asked, (I'm assuming) referring to the pasta.
"Err, whenever the noodles are soft, I guess," I said, shrugging.
"You don't have set time?"
"Not really. Why?"
"I don't know. You just…I don't know, seem to have everything in order, so I thought the same would apply to cooking."
I laughed outright at that.
"What?" he asked, smiling back.
"I don't exactly have everything in order."
"Don't you?"
"You've known me for like a week," I quipped, rolling my eyes, "How would you know I have everything 'in order'?"
"Well," he said, crossing his arms and leaning his side against the counter, "You wake up on time, you sit in the same chair every morning drinking from the same cup, you park your car in the same spot, you have your bag in the same spot on the couch when you get home, you make dinner at the same time everyday, you-"
"Yeah, but I don't fall down while making dinner every day," I defended, even though inside my face fell because really, I was so boring and so stupid to delude myself into ever being attracted to him at all with his beautiful smell and beautiful face and dangerous vibes because, honestly, what could a girl like me do for a girl like him? Nothing. So as much as I wanted to keep our separate ways because the logical side of me said that was easier, I knew the other, suppressed part told me I wanted nothing more than to step closer to this guy.
And the conflicted feelings were back again, but I was a master at keeping a plastered smile.
"Nothing wrong with having things in order," he shrugged, running his finger around the rim of the soda can, "Isn't it easier?"
"I guess it would be," I said, "If I did. But I don't, so I wouldn't really know."
These shouting devils and angels on my shoulder sure as hell don't say I have anything in order.
"Yeah, yeah," he laughed, "You going to Church this Sunday?"
"Hey, following a religion does not mean I have things in order," I defended, "Besides, you're the one with a cross around your neck."
"Chillax," he said in a calm voice, "I wasn't making any assumptions, it was just a simple question."
"Yes, I'm going to church on Sunday," I sighed, "But everyone makes assumptions. It's how people are."
Edward didn't say anything, giving me a blank look that looked…sad?
"Anyway, thanks for helping me," I said, smiling, "I've got homework, so um…I'll check on the pasta in like ten minutes?"
Edward nodded, sipping his soda and slipping his face back into that casual-look. I grabbed my bag off the couch, walking up the stairs and not looking back.
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Edward
"Alice?" I asked her on the phone, lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling.
"Yes, buttercup?" she said, sounding preoccupied and I heard what sounded like metal clanging together in the background.
"What's a cocoon?"
"Isn't it that thing caterpillars live in until they become butterflies?"
"Yeah, that's what I thought it was too."
"Yes, that would be it. Why do you ask?"
I didn't answer and the clanging eventually stopped. My silence wasn't on purpose, I was merely trying to find the right words on how to voice my diagnosis on Miss Bella Swan. But there was no need, because Alice let out a laugh that sounded like she knew what I was getting at, and the clanging started up again.
"My, my, doll face," she tinkled with a laugh, "You might be on to something. And how do you plan on helping this girl break out, so to speak?"
"Dunno," I sighed, glancing over at 'The Rules' fluttering from the cold wind blowing through my open window and then at the open drawer with a pack of cigarettes, the lighter hidden from sight somewhere in my suitcase, "Hand her a match and hope for the best?"
Alice 'hmmm'd, the clanging coming to a stop as she said, "I was thinking more along the lines of super glue."
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The cop was sitting on the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose as he read the newspaper. The light from the lamp next to him was the only light in the living room, and he looked up at me when he heard me coming down the stairs. I had a half-eaten popsicle in one hand, a pair of dice in the other.
It was dark outside, and raining, and the cop was giving me a queer look and a scowl was making his way on his cop-ly face.
"Where you going, kid?" he asked, shuffling his newspaper and glancing up at me again. I was at the bottom of the steps now, shoving the dice in my pocket.
"Can't sleep," I said because it was true. He gave me a hard look.
"You're going outside?" he said at last. His face softened momentarily, as if something had crossed his mind that sparked a nostalgic memory.
"Just for a second," I shrugged, "I'm uh…I promise I won't, you know, run or anything."
He looked pointedly at the hook by the door that had his belt and gun hanging around it. I almost laughed.
"No, yeah, I got it," I said, smiling. He smiled back, shuffling his newspapers to signal the end of the conversation.
I pushed the door open, looking at the pouring rain and watching it trickle off the porch roof. I rubbed one eye, realizing I was barefoot and going to get some sort of disease. Like ringworm.
I shook the dice in my palm, squinting up at the rain and finishing my popsicle. I chewed on the stick for a minute, wondering if I was really going to do this thing.
And she had just begun to get used to you.
So here's to fucking up and throwing the year through a leave blower and hoping I come out with both my legs and balls in tact.
Because, hey, I figured I could only walk so far in the desert before I drink the motor oil.
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Bella
When I woke up the next morning, I got dressed and marched down the stairs, ready to make myself a cup of coffee and maybe make a bowl of oatmeal or something for Edward because no doubt, he'd be cranky after the rain. I don't think he likes it too much, and I figured there was no harm in being hospitable, even if he was technically in exile. I forgot that sometimes, and I guess that was a good thing…?
I got to the final step, humming to myself. Then, I looked up and noticed Edward sitting there already, his legs propped up on the kitchen table as he sat in the chair he sat in last night at dinner. He looked tired, and yet his expression was calm as he looked straight forwards. I swallowed nervously. My heart thrummed.
"Morning," he said, still looking forwards as he fiddled with a pair of dice on the table.
"Morning," I responded shakily, walking over to the refrigerator, "You're up early."
"I fell asleep on the porch."
I snapped my head up.
"The porch?" I said, raising an eyebrow, "It was raining."
"Yes. And cold."
"Why were you on the porch…?"
"Couldn't sleep."
I shifted on my feet, wondering what to say next. I looked over at him as he played with the dice, slowly looking up at me with a tentative face but calm and casual eyes.
"Bella, how much are you against a break in routine?"
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All right. You still with me? I hope so.
Moving on, I now have a LOT of free time (what with SUMMERRRRRR being here), and so updates should be more frequent. Last week was deep fried hell on a bun, and I barely came out unscathed. But you've heard those excuses before, so I won't go into details.
PM/review if yas got one of them questions.
Also review because, well, zey make-ah me zee happy girl and make-ah zee updates come-a quicker, eh? (sweet honey dipped baloney, I don't know where that accent came from)