Pumped for an update? Haha I thought about giving up on this completely, but then I had free time, and *Points at text* This happened! :P Plus everyone's reviews inspired me, and they make me type faster, so be sure to help me get in the writing mood! :D So here's your update...way overdue if I may add...
How much worse could life get? Edward's thoughts were swirling around in his head, tangled together in a big mop, but all seeming to revolve around that one question. He
inhaled a deep, shaky breath as the examining room before him finally came into focus, as if someone had decided to adjust the lens on a photographer-grade camera,
annoyed with the hazy images that filled his vision. The room was painted completely white, probably to add an air of cleanliness, yet Edward felt it made the room
claustrophobic, like everything was closing in on him, suffocating him slowly. The white handle on the equally colorless door turned as the doctor pushed his way through,
dressed in none other than a pristine, pallid lab coat. The sterilizing paper crinkled sickeningly beneath Edward as he waited for the bomb to be dropped.
A cold chill crept up the sides of his arms, and he shifted out of the range of the fan. The sanitary paper popped beneath him again, his stomach churning with each
nauseating crunch. The doctor sat in front of him on a cushy rolling chair, causing a flame of envy to rock through Edward. Why couldn't he be comfortable while his life was
being destroyed? It wasn't fair. He shook his thoughts away in time to see the sandy-haired, blue-eyed man pointing at an X-ray. The light from the board behind it
illuminated the room in a terrifying blue glow. The doctor's tan finger pointed to a section of white bone, tracing a jagged line that cut angrily through one. "Are you sure?"
Edward's voice squeaked out, quietly, unsurely. He'd finally tuned into the words that the doctor was saying, willing his ears to listen intently. The doctor sighed, nodding.
"Yes, Mr. Cullen," Dr. Newton said for about the sixth time, shaking the long, blond hair from his clear, honest eyes. Edward had a hard time grasping the truth, each time
he thought he had a hold on what was happening, it slid through his thick fingers, which were coated in a thick layer of perspiration.
"Can you repeat the results again?" Edward was wringing his hands in front of him, hoping that maybe something otherworldly would happen, and the doctor would
magically say that everything was perfectly normal, and he could return to football, without even a bruise.
"You're clavicle is snapped." Edward's jaw tightened, the information sinking in, many emotions coursing through his veins: anger, fear, and sadness. Suddenly, a bruise
didn't sound so bad, but checking his shoulder, he noticed the purplish blotch taking root deep beneath his flawless skin. He just couldn't catch a break today.
He opened his mouth, thousands of questions threatening to fall of his tongue. Did he need a cast? Was there surgery? Could he play football? The last one felt like a knife
had been plunged into his gut, being turned ever so slowly, keeping him alive just to suffer. The twisting of his stomach pulled him up short, but Dr. Newton picked up the
slack, returning to the X-Rays and offering his opinion. "You must have tried to break the fall with your hand…" Dr. Newton broke through to him, demonstrating how the
bone was possibly broken. Frankly, Edward didn't remember how he fell or how he tried to catch himself. At that moment, all he really cared about was jumping into the
awaiting arms of the Bikini Girls. . .
"Yeah, I don't know." he said, dragging his good hand down his face, closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath, trying to keep his ever rising heart rate down. He
blinked, kicking his heels noisily against the metal of the table he was sitting upon. Dr. Newton shot him a warning look, his lips drawn into a tight line, his eyes narrowed.
Edward did not like this man, lab coat or not. This was the man they had sent to ruin his life? To take away his dreams? Couldn't they have least sent a waitress from
Hooters or something? He would have been too distracted to notice the tears stinging his eyes, the pain that threatened to wrench him to his knees.
Without warning, Edward jumped up, ripping the white tissue beneath his weight. He was glad he'd been allowed to change back into normal clothes after the X-Ray. The
draft of the hospital gown would have kept him glued to his seat, stuck in the stuffy, white room with Dr. Newton and his dreary voice that told devastating news. He darted
quickly from the room, cradling his arm carefully against his chest and leaving the door open behind him. Glancing backward, he saw Dr. Newton, his mouth agape as he
looked down the hallway at Edward's retreating form.
She'd had been wrong about him. Edward wasn't afraid of the doctor. No, he wasn't afraid of their lab coats or their cold, sterilized hands or stethoscopes. Hek, he wasn't
even afraid of the shots they sometimes had to give him for bad cuts. What really terrified him was that they held the key, the key that was able to destroy his life, make
the world come crashing and tumbling down around him. They made the decisions about his career, about his ability to play. Bella was wrong.
His thoughts were brought up short. Bella. . Then he was running faster, sprinting out of the through the labyrinth of halls they called the hospital as if he'd been wandering
these corridors all of his life. It had to be around seven, and he had to find Bella. I just need to find her because she's my ride home, he assured himself, not liking the
shakiness his whole body took on as her name popped into his mind. He saw her image flash across his green eyes, smiling with her hair flowing in cascading chocolaty
waves around her shoulders, curling upward slightly at the end. He vaguely heard his name being called over the intercom system as he took a hard right, jolting his
shoulder and causing him to grunt in pain. Fear rippled through his body as he ran, dodging nurses and wheelchairs and patients as he earned a few wild stares from
others.
He couldn't help but glare at them. His world was falling around him, crumbling into rubble and suffocating him beneath it. He babied his now throbbing shoulder as he
dashed into the waiting room, nearly tackling Bella who stood at the counter.
"Oh, there you are," she said cheerfully, but then he was dragging her toward the exit. "What are you—?" she asked, stumbling along beside him. Edward didn't really have
an answer. He didn't know what he was doing anymore, so he kept his reply simple, calm, though it went against all the emotions swirling around inside of him.
"Running." He pushed through the glass entry, not bothering to wait for the automatic doors to open them. Bella mumbled something, still clumsy on her feet, struggling to
keep up with Edward's lengthy strides. She chirped the Navigator unlocked as she came within range, staring at him wild-eyed as she threw open the passenger door and
slid onto the cool, leather seat. The sun was a vibrant orange as it began to disappear behind the horizon, shadowing the world in a deep, golden glow.
The door slammed as Bella hopped in. Edward pressed his fingertips to his temples, sighing loudly and slumping into his seat, ignoring the protest from his shoulder. He
saw Bella's pink lips part, as if she were preparing to say something. He beat her to the punch. "Humor me," he commanded, his voice coming out in a throaty bark. He
watched her eyes widen, and her face recoil as if she slapped him. His tone was a strained whisper as he croaked out another word. "Please."
Her words faltered, "O-okay." Her voice was as smooth as silk, as sweet as raspberry lemonade from his grandmother's kitchen. He closed his eyes, trying to dissolve
himself into her words, get lost in what she was saying and forget about what was happening. She was rambling on about how in high school she took missions trips to
Africa and helped sick and injured children over there. She talked about her mother and her husband Phil that lived in Phoenix, Arizona. She talked about how she moved
with her dad and brother from Forks, Washington when Emmett scored a spot on the starting lineup of the Green Bay Packers. In a matter of minutes, Edward felt like he
knew her whole life story, every small detail, every insecurity, every intimate memory, every little detail.
He exhaled a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and he heard her words fall off midsentence. A few leaves had dropped from the tree in the middle of the parking lot
and landed on the hood of his sleek black Lincoln. Her voice was small and concerned as she lifted her milky eyes to meet his, "Are you ready to go back in?" He caught her
gaze and was momentarily stunned by the pureness of her eyes, the innocence of her stare. He fisted his gym shorts just to keep from launching himself at her. What was
this girl doing to him? He nodded and grasped the handle of the car door, hopping out. He saw her move to follow.
"Alone," he added a bit too harshly. He winced at her slight squeak, chagrin washing through him, but he trudged forward to the hospital, where Dr. Newton met him at the
door, smiling as he wrapped his arm in a blue sling. It propped his arm against his side in a comfortable way. As Dr. Newton began explaining the directions, Edward walked
away, already feeling the unruly angst bubbling up inside him. He stomped back to the car and through open the door, shooting a glare at Bella, but covering it up with a
forced laugh, knowing she had been just trying to help.
"Happy?" he asked, gesturing to his wrapped limb. They should have just severed it, he thought, gritting his teeth at his self-pity. He was higher than that, raised to show
no weakness. She nodded, throwing the car in reverse and swiftly pulling from the spot in the parking lot. Edward plugged his iPod into the radio and clicked shuffle, not
really caring what came up, as long as it filled the silent void between the two people sitting in the car.
The lyrics faded into the background as a low hum filled his hearing. His neck became too weak to support his head. He heard Bella laugh quietly as the tendrils of sleep
tugged him under. From there, he was doing the Jell-O-neck-head-bob, waking up every time his face was whipped backward from a bump. Finally, after about the third
time, he forced his eyelids open, glancing sideways at Bella, who had a huge smile plastered to her face. She caught his staring and snorted, clamping a hand over her
mouth as she realized what she did wasn't very lady-like. Edward couldn't help but think about how it hadn't been girly; it had been down-right sexy.
"What?" There was an undertone to his throaty voice. It was happiness, a small laugh.
Bella bit her lower lip, containing her gorgeous smile. Edward quirked an eyebrow, completely seriously. She laughed loudly. "You have drool dried to your face!" Her
fingers curled tightly around the steering wheel as she tried to keep her eyes on the road.
Edward groaned inwardly, hiding his embarrassment as he dragged his arm across his mouth, only to find that it was rough with dried saliva. "Must've been dreaming of
something really nice," he shrugged indifferently, his own green eyes trained on the highway, slightly concerned for the safety of his car, but mostly concerned for the
safety of the brunette giggling uncontrollably beside him. He rubbed his cool hand across the back of his reddening neck, hoping to cover his blush before she caught sight
of it.
The car turned into his driveway, and Edward realized that he'd slept most of the ride home. He swung his legs out the side of the car, hoping to rush into the house and
just fall into the welcoming home of his plush mattress. He threw open the door.
"Surprise!" his house shouted in his general direction. Nope, not his house. His entire football team was nonchalantly chilling in his living room, as if it was the most normal
thing to go to someone's house, unannounced, and just hang around after they found the owner was out. He smiled anyways, accepting a red plastic cup handed to him by
one of the Packer's linemen. The burly, dark-skinned boy named Embry clapped him on his good shoulder and looked him in the eyes, dropping one shoulder as if to say, I
know this injury's not gonna stop you. Edward just blinked at him, and soon the boy got awkward, going to chat with a fellow member of the line, an equally dark and built
man named Quil.
Emmett approached Edward next, engulfing him in a big bear hug, yet careful of his shoulder. "Nice sling, bro," he said, pinching the blue fabric between his thumb and
index finger. "Want me to bet my sister to bedazzle it for you?" His eyes were crinkled at the edges as a broad grin dominated his face. His comment earned a round of
laughter from the group behind him.
Edward didn't chuckle, knowing that Bella would burst through the door any minute, the keys to his Navigator dangling precariously from her finger tips. The soft thunk of
the door and Emmett's large, astonished eyes told him that it had just happened. "B-Bella?" He stuttered, his eyes shifting from Edward's face to his sister's. Edward turned
around, seeing the siblings mirror each other's shocked looks.
"I know you use chicks as distractions…" Emmett's voice trailed off, stunned.
"Em—" Bella's level-headed tone began, but her brother's booming voice cut off anything she was going to stay.
His sinister eyes bore through Edward, and Edward knew that if they could shoot bullets, he would have been Swiss cheese by now. "My own sister." His words were
threatening, escaping his lips as almost a growl. Any playful banter in the room had silenced, and if it weren't for Emmett's heavy, angered breathing and Edward's racing
pulse, they could have heard a pin drop.
The silence remained as Emmett sucked in a breath, puffing out his chest and standing at his full glory. He was a good six inches taller than Edward, but he was built like a
sturdy freight train, a train that was ready to hit anybody that messed with his sister. Edward put his hands up in defeat. "Dude, it's not what you thing—" Those were the
only word's he got out before Emmett's thick fist connected with his face, sending him sprawling across the living room floor and into the wall, his shoulder and head
smacking against the drywall before he dropped to the ground
"Emmett!" Bella cried. He felt the feather-light pressure of her fingertips on her forehead, but it was only for a moment. He felt his chest shake with a strangled, ragged
breath. He blinked his eyes but saw nothing. Darkness was quickly filling his vision. The room around him disappeared as silence overtook his ears. The world melted away,
and unconsciousness claimed his body.
You all better know that Emmett can pack a punch! haha! Review so we can see Bella's thoughts about the fist throwing, and so we can see what happened to Edward...and his shoulder o.O Poor, broken Edward. Bella's happy to play doctor! :)
