A/N: Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight, obviously...I'm just the uninvited guest swimming around in her pool.
Chapter 2: Strong Young Minds
Sometimes my dad, being the chief of police, came home from work sad. He would grab a beer just like any other day, but he wouldn't say anything. The evening after beach-day was one of those days. Not even the frozen lasagna that I baked in the oven for nearly two hours cheered him up. But this time, at dinner while we ate the cheerless lasagna and Caesar salad (yes, the kind you pour from a bag; don't judge me, I washed it first) he decided to talk about it.
"Bella," he said, "never go anywhere by yourself with strange boys. No matter how nice and helpful they seem." He tugged on one side of his mustache, a nervous habit. Once I'd suggested he shave it off. He seemed offended and shocked, like I had asked him to take off a limb or something. My mustache? He had said, I've had it ever since I could grow one.
"I try to always stay away from all strange people," I said, not really knowing where he was going with this. Did he find out about Edward, I wondered.
"I mean strangers. Boys or men you don't know or never met."
"Okay Dad, I'll be careful."
"You don't know what's out there, Bella. I don't even want you to know. Just don't trust anyone; please don't trust anyone. They're out for one thing."
"Blood?"
"Two things," he held up two fingers, " they're out for two things."
Okay, I could guess what had happened. He was right, I didn't want to hear about that. I would make a point not to read the paper in the morning. That wouldn't be too hard since I never really read it anyway unless I was looking up movie times. But tomorrow, I would not read it on purpose.
The lasagna was so sad at this point that I couldn't even eat anymore. I put my fork down and just looked at my dad in case he had anything else to say. It seemed he didn't. He just ate the sad, sad dinner.
I sat with him until my mom called, and then I retreated to my room. She told me about her crazy schedule in Florida with Phil. It was hard for her to even find a minute to call with the time differences. I told her about the ridiculous marriage project that I secretly loved because I could not have been partnered better. She laughed and talked about how much school has changed over the years. She remembered carrying around an egg in a basket and drawing a face on it. She even made little clothes for it out of felt, but she never had to get fake married.
In the next few weeks, my pretend husband and I grew closer. We'd become good friends, even if it was a friendship born of sarcasm and jokes. We laughed at just about everything. We laughed so much that people would stop and ask us, "What?" just because they wanted to laugh, too. We always answered, "nothing," because it was easier than explaining it. Whenever you have to re-explain anything, it's never quite as funny.
I wasn't stuck eating lunch at Jessica's table anymore while she and her group of admirers ignored me. Edward and I ate lunch together. That's right, I ate lunch with the beautiful people, officially turning their little group into "the beautiful people and that one girl". The other beautifuls stopped asking us what was funny after about the third day of not getting an answer. Now, they just gave an irritated eye roll or sigh whenever we started laughing, even if it was just a chuckle. Although, sometimes Emmett would just join in for no other reason than he liked to laugh. The only one of them who really wasn't opening up to me was Rosalie, but that didn't bother me, yet. I never really expected any of them to accept me easily, so having all but one welcoming me was more than enough. I tried to stay out of Rosalie's way, never really drawing her into unwanted conversation.
In the hallways, Edward still jokingly wrapped an arm around me. Others were staring but it didn't seem to bother him. He was probably used to people staring. He probably didn't even notice. The staring had me squirming, however. I couldn't stand it. I looked at the walls or even the ceiling instead of making eye contact with anyone. Homecoming rounding the corner brought more posters and banners to the halls, so my eyes actually had a place to land in my avoidance of all Forks High Humans.
The Tuesday before homecoming, Alice and I stood in the lunch line twice because they had those good brownies we liked. Brownies with chocolate and peanut butter and nuts, oh my. We needed seconds. I got up the nerve to ask Rosalie if she wanted one, too. In truth, by working up the nerve, I mean I didn't even think about it before asking her. If I would have thought about it, I would have lost the nerve. She scowled at me. She actually scowled, narrowing her eyes, pursing her lips and even flaring her nostrils. If I was standing any closer to her I might have heard her growl. I backed away just in case. "I don't eat those things," she said, like they were pieces of E.-coli-covered-spinach. Note to self, don't offer to do nice things for Rosalie. She is repulsed by anything nice or sweet. She was really starting to look less like the beautiful swan and more like the ugly duckling. Emmett was smiling away. He grabbed her and kissed her cheek. She smiled at him. I saw it. For a split second, she actually looked pretty again.
"I'll take one," Emmett said.
In line, feeling all impatient because I was afraid the brownies would be gone by the time we got there, I sort of bounced around in anticipation. "Bella," Alice said, giving me the exact opposite face Rosalie had shared with me a few minutes earlier. It was a sweet, wide-eyed expression. A halo floating above her would not have seemed out of place. "You're starting to act like me with all the bouncing." She was a bouncer and a fidgeter. I didn't know if it was a nervous thing or a too much energy thing. She was always still in Jasper's arms, though. It seemed just his touch could keep her from squirming. I don't know how he did it, but he just seemed to keep her grounded. Jasper was the one of the bunch who remained a mystery to me. He was friendly, soft spoken, easy to talk to, and somehow I felt like I had known him forever. I couldn't understand it.
I stopped bouncing. "Everyone is taking them," I said. "They're going to be gone. Look, can you see them? How many are left?"
Alice leaned around the people in front of us and started counting the brownies just as Jessica approached me. I felt her tap my shoulder. It wasn't a soft tap.
"Hey Jess," I said, shortening her name as if I knew her well enough.
"Hey, are you dating Edward?" She asked me, as if she knew me well enough.
"No," I said at the exact same time that Alice said, "yes," louder than me.
I looked at Alice. Did she know something I didn't? She just grinned at me. I liked her grin, it was endearing and cute and she crinkled her little nose with it. It was such an anti-Rosalie grin that I appreciated it more. I wanted to do that chin-swipe thing that mom's do with their finger when their little girls are being adorable.
"Whatever, Bell." Jessica said before she reached between Alice and me, grabbed an apple, and turned away.
"It's Bell-a," I called after her.
She turned toward me, her high-lighted curls twirling over her shoulder, and put her hand on her chest, "It's Jess-ica." Well, isn't this the day when all the bitchy girls put me in my place? I wanted to take one of those ripe red things and throw it at her. With my luck, she would probably turn around and catch it. I left the apples right in their basket, waiting for the healthy eaters of Forks High. As it turned out, I had nothing to worry about when it came to my favorite dessert. The cook brought out a whole new fresh sheet of brownies. I took two warm ones.
Back at the table, Rosalie spoke to me. "You have chocolate in your teeth," she said loud enough for anyone to hear so they could all turn to see it too. Emmett laughed. I decided that Emmett thought anything Rosalie did or said was hysterical.
"Shut up, Emmett. I brought you a brownie." That just made him laugh harder. I rubbed my teeth with my fingers asking Edward if it was gone yet. He kept shaking his head and Alice handed me a compact. So this was why girls needed compacts. I'd always wondered why anyone would carry around a silver case that had nothing in it but two mirrors. Now I knew. That may have been the only new thing I actually learned that day at school.
I smiled at Rosalie to show her the chocolate was gone. "You're welcome," she said.
Rosalie was in my AP Literature class. I recommended AP Literature to everyone and anyone who would listen. You get to read and discuss literature--and get graded on it. My rationalization needed no further explanation; I was sure of it. Math enthusiasts probably disagreed with my logic, but not Rosalie. I could tell Rosalie agreed. She loved to discuss our reading material; she loved playing devil's advocate during said discussions. Whatever your point was, she could argue it. She argued so much that I wondered if she even held tight to any of her convictions. Most likely it was the draw of the argument that brought forth her inner Elizabeth Bennett--headstrong and unyielding whether she really believed in her point or not . Whenever her gloves came on, so to speak, I shut my mouth. She intimidated me enough when she just looked at me. Toss a swing-happy Rosalie in the ring, and I would gladly throw myself out of the match, before anyone could say, "Knock Out, Bella's down." I would have even run to dreadful Calculus to get out of her way. (Thankfully, Calculus was not a part of my schedule, so I didn't have to worry about that.) I often left Literature with that feeling that comes with having to suppress my true thoughts out of fear. You know, where you think for a minute you might just be capable of murder? I was afraid I couldn't articulate my thoughts as well as Rosalie. The silver lining was that Literature was my last class before lunch so afterward I had Edward to clear my mind of Rosalie just like a reset button. Seeing Edward not only sitting at the lunch table, but watching for me always made me relax into a smile.
Emmett came to lunch from Calculus, the class I would avoid like the Bubonic Plague, save getting out of a book discussion with Rosalie. Emmett was one of those people you don't know was smart until you talked to him. Smiling and cracking jokes all the time, he falsely appeared to be a typical big jock. In all actuality, he loved to mind-wrestle. He loved to take controversial subjects and talk people in circles until they were confused about their own argument. Or, he might take a sentence you said and reiterate it using a combination of words from his infinite vocabulary all in one sentence, then he'd ask, is that what you're saying? You, having no idea what he just said, would have to agree. You walk away from the conversation never knowing he just insulted your mind. And by 'you' I mean me. I learned about his mind-wrestling the hard way. It was all in good fun, though. He really never expected others to match him intellectually and meant no harm by it.
I slapped his arm during lunch the day after Rosalie pointed out my chocolate-covered teeth. He had cornered Mike into a mind-wrestle in the cafeteria. Mike was just innocently walking by our table when Emmett called him over. He put a hand on Mike's shoulder as if holding the poor kid against his will. The other five of us, standing around Emmett, were getting ready to take off for class when we became the intrigued audience of a mind-wrestling match.
"Bella and I were just discussing sexism in the work place," Emmett told Mike. It was a lie. We were actually talking about whether or not the milk was rancid. Mike's eyes widened at the sound of the word "sex". Emmett had his attention now. "Do you think that men and women should be paid according to different salary scales?"
"Well, I think it depends on the job."
"No, they're working the same job." Emmett still had a hand on Mike's shoulder, towering over him, and Emmett's voice was so much deeper that Mike did actually appear to be a little kid.
"Still, it depends," Mike said. "Like, if the job requires heavy lifting. Typically a man would be stronger and faster, so he should be offered a higher rate of pay."
"Oh, as long as we're generalizing, say it's an office job where the computer is the driving force of business. Since women, typically, are faster at typing would you say that would prove them to be more efficient? In general."
"I-I would say that."
"So, according to your logic, a woman in the identical position as you--same job description, requirements, and level of experience, mind you--should be paid at a higher rate because of the probability that she is faster, therefore more effective on the job?"
Mike frowned, glancing from Emmett to me then back at Emmett again. "No. Yeah, yeah." Then, eyes unfocused, he nearly ran away. It was like Emmett just beat up his brain.
"Slam!" Emmett shouted after Mike. That was when I slapped his arm.
"What? I can't help it if my brain holds more knowledge than his, just like he can't help it if his brain leaks information. Every mind has it's limitations. Even Einstein brain-blocked minuscule facts to leave room for the important ones. You can't teach people how to enlighten themselves. They just have to work with what God gave them and exercise their brain as best they can. This is not a learned behavior, Bella."
"Well, not everybody has a photographic memory," I said.
"That's what I just said."
Damn! Brain-slammed again. This was my cue to shut up before my eyes got all squirrelly like Mike's. Of course, Emmett laughed. He laughed hard because that was two in a row for him. I swear he got some kind of high off that. I looked over at Alice wrapped in Jasper's arms. She was shaking her head. Rosalie had a small grin on her face.
"Come on, wifey," Edward said throwing an arm over my shoulder, "Let's get you away from this mind-fucker."
Emmett was still laughing so I yelled over my shoulder, "Do you do that to Rosalie?"
"Are you kidding? She'd kill me," he yelled back.
"He's afraid she'll win, Bella," Alice hollered and then Rosalie and Alice's laughter took the place of Emmett's.
Edward's arm was still loosely slung over my shoulder as we neared our Health class. I wouldn't have minded if he held on a little tighter. "I'm surprised Emmett went so easy on Mike," I said. "It almost seemed like he wanted to keep him in the conversation longer."
"He did," Edward said. "Mike just wanted to get the hell out. If he would have stayed, Emmett's rant would have grown progressively worse and harder to follow."
"Has anyone ever beat Emmett at his own game?" I asked.
"Here's what you do," he said leaning closer to me I would have liked to lean closer to him, too, resting my head on his. "Whenever he asks for clarification, like, 'wouldn't you agree?' You always say no. But, after a few times he'll catch onto you, so then you could say, 'not exactly,' or 'let me explain myself so you can understand.' Insult his own comprehension or intellect and you've got him. He'll just say something like, I gotcha, and move on. He doesn't even mind-wrestle me anymore.
"I'm just going to avoid mind-wrestling him at all. It's too hard when you know someone is baiting you. It hurts my head."
Edward and I were early for Health because, unlike Alice and Jasper, we weren't compelled to make out in a hallway nook before class. Mike decided this would be the perfect time to ask me to the homecoming dance. I noticed his eyes had recovered from Emmett-gate and regained their focus. He must have figured out his plan to steal Alice away from Jasper wasn't really working in his favor and decided on a downgrade. I silently cursed because the Mike-and-Alice hour was just so much fun to watch.
"So, what do you say?" he purposely ran his fingers through his hair like it was supposed to be sexy or something. It only made me uncomfortable. I needed an out. I bit a fingernail and looked at Edward.
"You should go," he said. Ugh, how I felt like hitting him. Punching him in his gorgeous smug face, right in the middle of his bright green eyes. What happened to wifey? I wanted to say. Where's your arm now, Edward?
"I don't really go to dances," I said, looking at Mike, "ever."
He just shrugged, "Your loss."
"You should go?" I said to Edward. I spoke through my teeth because that's usually more threatening and shows your anger. It just made Edward laugh. "Why don't you just throw me to the wolves?"
"Mike's no wolf. He's more like a rat," he said. "You don't go to dances?"
I shook my head.
"Me either," he said and I thought that was too bad because if I was ever going to go to a dance, it would be with him.
"We should do something else," he said, and I whipped my head up at him because I had been looking down at my hands in defeat. "While all these other idiots are dancing to Top 40 music we could do something that's actually fun."
"Idiots?"
"It's called sarcasm. Maybe you've heard of it? It was meant ironically, not literally."
"Really? Because it sounded more like arrogance, which I'm sure you're familiar with. You know, when a person falsely believes he is superior to everyone else for reasons that only he can understand."
"Ah, yes, I've heard of it. Although I've always thought of arrogance as a he or she kind of thing."
"In my experience, the arrogant one has always been a he."
"You need more experience," he said, and I couldn't argue with that. I literally couldn't, because class was starting, and Mrs. Hines was passing around a top hat filled with our first marital problem. I wondered if married life would be any easier if all your problems could fit inside a hat. I got my answer in less than a second.
"You had an affair?!" I heard Jessica screech at Jasper, who winked at Alice, who waved back at him with her big smile, nose-crinkles and all. Mike and Jessica looked back and forth between each other's partners like they were watching a tennis match.
"So, let's have it," I said as Edward unfolded the slip of paper he had pulled from the hat.
He shook his head, "I'm sorry."
"Not you, too," I said, searching the classroom for whoever he might be having an affair with.
"I lost my job," he said.
"Oh." I actually felt relieved by our fake problem. "How are we supposed to get you a pretend job?"
"I know!" he said and he even raised up a finger. "I'll ask Mrs. Hines to write me a letter of recommendation. She would never turn down her own letter. I'll have a job by next week."
"I knew I married you for a reason!" And then I stood up and kissed him right on the lips. I had never kissed anyone before and I just kissed him, without even thinking, right there in the classroom where anybody could have seen. I pulled back as fast as I could, covering my mouth. Then I couldn't do anything but play it off as a big joke, so I went all Scarlet O'Hara on him, throwing my arms round his neck, "Thank you, husband. Now I don't have to give up my manicures!" While I was in his arms, I thought, for just a second that even though my kiss had just been a peck, that maybe I felt his lips kissing me right back. Our bodies shook from his laughter and I pulled away, laughing, too because what else could I do? I stole a quick glance around the room to see if anyone had noticed our display, but luckily they all seemed to be involved in their own marital problems. Yes, pretty much like real life.
"I'm going to get such a great job that we can get rid of my old Bug and get a nice, shiny, silver Volvo."
"A Volvo? Really? Wow, Edward, shoot for the stars."
"Volvos are nice and dependable, and safe, you know for the little twins."
"Safety and dependability are important," I said, nodding, and thinking about our twins. Our twins we didn't have and most likely never would.
I do not yet have a beta, so please excuse any grammatical errors (I read and re-read obsessively, but I'm sure I missed something anyway).
Updates will be quick.
Please review if you like it or even if you don't like it. I need to know. Constructive criticism is helpful; flaming is just plain mean. :)
