A/N: I was going to post this last night, but I chose sleep instead. So now you get it hella early in the morning because... I move today!!! I will be spending the entire day marshaling all of my earthly possessions up three flights of stairs, and willing myself not to crack and hire some nice strong men to do it for me at the last minute. I can do this, dammit. Even if I won't be able to life my arms for a month... which I won't.
Thanks, Hannah, for being your usual speedy self.
So, read up. It doesn't belong to me. But I have three cars full of stuff that does, and a bunch more going into storage...
Chapter Seven
"So 'friends', huh?" Angela asked between bites of her glazed doughnut, her eyes dancing.
We'd met at one of the small pavilions that sat behind the school, choosing one of the less cobweb encrusted picnic tables to carry on what would inevitably be a rather uncomfortable conversation.
"Friends," I agreed, nodding.
"That's nice."
We sat in silence for a bit after that, each lost in our own worlds. Angie had listened attentively, as always, to my story of my conversation with Edward, asking fewer questions than usual and idly sipping coffee at a rate that would have had me twitching manically by now.
"Do you think it's nice, Bella? Is it what you wanted?" she asked after an age, her eyes focused concernedly on my face.
"I... I don't know anymore. I mean, it was my suggestion. It's better than nothing. He's just so... ugh. So fucking cryptic. So mysterious and guarded and serious and pragmatic and pensive and..."
"Intriguing?"
"Intriguing. Too intriguing. And I just don't know what to do, Angela, because this isn't me. I'm not this person. I haven't been this person since he left and I thought it was over, dammit, but it's not. He just brings out the worst in me. I don't like feeling these things. Maybe we shouldn't even be friends. Maybe I should stay away from him."
"Is that what you want?" she asked quietly. She knew the answer already. So did I. It was a foregone conclusion.
"No."
More silence.
"Isabella," Angela began, her tone gentle, "have you ever stopped to think that maybe this is you? Maybe he makes you feel the way you're supposed to feel?"
She looked at me and I looked at her, my expression unreadable. Because no. No I hadn't.
"I mean, let's try dividing your life into two categories: feelings when you're around Edward, and feelings when you're not."
I nodded.
"So, first of all, how do you feel when you're around him?"
I thought for a moment.
"Nervous," I blurted. "Excited, scared, tense..."
"There aren't any good feelings?" she prodded.
I thought again.
"Yes," I grudgingly admitted. "He has this uncanny ability to make me feel... I don't know how to put it. Alive. But it's not that. It's so much more than that. My stomach erupts into butterflies and my body gets warm and my heart races and... I don't know. It's incredible. It's something I've never felt before. Every time he's near me, I have to stop myself from reaching out, touching him, running my hands over any piece of him I can get. And that's not a normal compulsion for me. That's not a normal compulsion period," I concluded emphatically, slamming my hand down on the table between us.
"And when he's not around?" Angela asked.
"Everything's fine," I shrugged. "Normal."
"But, Bella, do you want to go through life feeling normal every day?"
"Of course I do. Normal's what everyone's supposed to want. Normal's great," I argued.
"Normal's boring, Isabella. And normal for you is safe. Normal for you is doing what you're doing now. And that's no way for you to live your life. Fuck, that's no way for anyone to live their life," she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow at me, daring me to question her. Which I promptly did.
"And how exactly am I living my life, Angela? Huh? What am I doing that's so horrible?"
"You're avoiding anything and everything that feels like a risk. You're terrified of rocking the boat. And it doesn't make any sense because you don't seem like a person who would do that. You don't need to do that. You're an amazing person, Bells. You're smart and funny as hell and gorgeous and interesting and there's no reason not to show people that. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to talk to you in the beginning? How long it took for you to really open up to me?"
"That's bullshit and you know it," I interrupted, leaning towards her across the table. "I was confiding in you from day one. Don't even pretend that I've ever hidden anything from you."
"Oh you don't want to go there, Isabella Swan."
"Try me," I challenged.
"Certainly. What happened in the parking lot that day, hmmm? What really happened when Edward said goodbye? What made you curl up into that cozy little ball of self-misery and wallow and sulk until it practically took the jaws-of-fucking-life to get you off your ass and out of your house?"
"You know I can't tell you that!" I yelled, standing up and walking away from the table, approaching the edge of the shelter but avoiding stepping outside. Not to be deterred, Angela followed suit.
"You're right, Bells. I do know that. For whatever reason, you don't want to tell me what happened and, you know what? Fine. If you can't tell me, then fine. But don't fool yourself into thinking that we tell each other everything. And do not for one minute think that you were 'confiding in me from day one.' It took for-fucking-ever for you to open up about anything to me."
"But I told you all about him! Don't you get it? I told you everything about him. What the fuck do you call that?"
"I call that being convenient. I was convenient for you, Bella. I was the first person here who didn't treat you like a sideshow, and you latched on to me."
I spun to look at her, my chest heaving. Was that what she thought? Was that really what she thought?
"Angie," I said quietly, my voice laced with emotion. "Angie, you can't really think that."
She held up her hand, silencing me, before moving her other hand to my shoulder.
"Bells, look," she began, willing my eyes to meet hers, "when you first moved here, I'm not gonna lie, I resented our relationship a little bit. Friendships are about give and take and frankly, sweetie, you took a lot. A whole lot. And I was upset about it. It hurt my feelings a bit. But after he left, I began to understand you a little bit more. And I know now that you needed me. I know now that you really didn't know what you were doing. And I know that you're not that person anymore. So it's fine."
She paused, taking in my expression, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"Really, Isabella, it's fine now. But you need to understand that you're essentially still that person. You're not that person with me anymore, and I'm grateful for that. I'm glad that you trust me enough to show me who you really are. But, with everyone else, you're still that girl. You're like a shadow of who you are inside. Like a reflection of what everyone else expects from you. You don't tell anyone anything. You don't get in their faces and say 'this is who I am.' You don't own yourself."
"But, I just--"
"Enough. This is enough for today, Bella. I didn't mean for us to fight. I don't like fighting. You're my best friend, dammit, and the last thing I want to do is see you upset or hurt. I just wanted you to be honest with yourself. To quit holding yourself back. I meant what I said, girl. You're amazing. And the sooner you realize that, the better."
She smiled at me, a smile of acceptance and forgiveness, and I returned it with a weak one of my own.
I had hurt her feelings. I had made her resent me. I hadn't been there for her. I had demanded so much, just to let her efforts go unrewarded, unacknowledged, unreciprocated.
I would make it up to her.
"Angela," I sighed, reaching forward to pull her into a tight hug. "I am so, so sorry."
"It's ok, kid. You're worth it."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
School began as usual, with Angie and I on good terms again. That morning had effected me in a major way, though, even if I wasn't letting her see it. It had been... wow.
I really had used her. I'd never truly thought about it before, never assessed my relationship with her, but the bottom line is that, for two people who call themselves best friends, we knew very little about each other. And it's my fault. I know it is.
She knows nothing about my life before Forks. I've never told her about school or life in Phoenix in any detail. Never really described my history with Charlie or Renee beyond things that seemed relevant at the time. She doesn't really know my insecurities. She doesn't really know why I am the way I am. She doesn't really know me. And that sucks.
And so resolutions have to be made. Time has to be set aside. Because Angela was and is my life preserver. She is my connection to the world. She's the sole reason for my sanity in this town. And I'll be damned if I ever take advantage of that again.
Of course, spending the entire first period asking her quietly about how things were between her and Ben only served to annoy the shit out of her. When I started asking about her brother, she punched me in the arm. When I asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up, she flicked me off and nodded insistently to the front of the class. And then I started passing her notes.
What college do you want to go to?
I am so kicking your ass after class.
What's your favorite flower?
Seriously, Bella, I'll fuck you up.
If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be?
It is so fucking on.
Yeah. Class was fun.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Chemistry went by slowly without a best friend to harass, and then it was English again and Angela tactfully traded desks with me, leaving me seated behind the object of my obsession.
Edward was in rare form, wearing a light blue button down that set off the copper in his hair and made my lady parts go inappropriately tingly. Now that I was sitting behind him, I was enveloped in the sweetness of his scent, and found myself unable to concentrate on whatever was going on in the front of the room as I fixated on the lines of his back. Fuck he was beautiful. Maybe I was better off in my seat from yesterday.
But then he half-turned in his seat and graced me with that crooked smile and I swear to God there were birds singing somewhere nearby. I smiled back because that's what friends do, right?, and then pulled my lower lip between my teeth, trying to halt the images of exactly what I'd like his mouth to be doing to my body, trying to gain control of my once dormant libido. But then his eyes followed my lip as I bit it, and his mouth twitched and his eyebrows quirked and I had to stop a whole new set of images. At this rate, my lip would be gone by the end of the week.
"Would you like to eat lunch with me today?" he asked quietly when the teacher wasn't looking, dropping his eyes to the floor and fidgeting a bit as though he was nervous about my response.
Yeah, right. Like there's any way I'm turning down an offer like that.
"Sure," I whispered, inwardly punching myself at the way that my voice quavered and my hands started shaking. It was just lunch, after all. Not like we're going hunting for mountain lions or anything. "I need to tell Angie, though." Because friends include each other, dammit. In face, it'd be nice if I could have some backup...
"Oh. Great. Well, she could sit with us, if you like," he offered, looking me in the eye this time. He had stopped fidgeting. Frankly, he seemed relieved that I had accepted his invitation. I can't see why.
"I'm sure she's down with that. I'll ask her."
I turned towards my friend, only to find her looking back at me sardonically, a knowing smirk on her face. She didn't say anything to me. Just nodded before I even asked the question. Guess that's a 'yes,' then.
"Angela says she'd love to. Her and Ben, that is," I whispered to Edward, who had been watching our silent little exchange amusedly.
"Excellent."
"Should we sit at your usual table? There's not really any room at ours."
"My usual table? Tell me, Isabella, where do I usually sit?"
Oh shit. I probably look like a stalker now.
"Miss Swan? Mr. Cullen?" an irritated voice called from the front of the room, breaking into my mortification. "Am I interrupting something? Because we can wait for you to finish, if I am."
And so ends the conversation.
"Sorry," I murmured, exaggeratedly staring towards the front of the room, avoiding eye contact with Angela as she laughed silently at my side.
Still, I would be eating lunch with Edward Cullen today. Yesterday I had been dreading the cafeteria, but now I found that the period couldn't come fast enough.
A/N: Hope you liked. Every relationship has its quarrels, and it was about time for Bella and Angie to hit a damn bump in the road.
My roommates (I hate that word and everything it implies, but when you're taking 18 credit hours a semester, you just can't afford a one-bedroom apartment) have yet to turn on the internet, so I'll be wandering into Starbucks for a couple of hours everyday until it gets done. Still, on my list of internet-usage priorities, fanfic is below e-mail, bill paying, and job searching, so updates may be erratic for the next week or two (not that they're not deeply erratic as it is). Fuck. If it takes them longer than a week to set it up, I may get pissy and just do it myself.
Anyway, reviews make the pain in my arms and hands go away. Hit the button and tip your waitress.
