BELLA POV
I was a wallflower at Rose's house that evening. Edward kept shooting Alice pointed glances that made my stomach dip for reasons that I couldn't say, and Alice repeatedly ignored them. Emmett sat in a recliner and watched the Florida game on television, whooping and hollering every so often to remind us he was still alive. Alice sat on the couch, Rose on the floor in front of her, and braided her hair. She tugged on Rosalie's golden hair roughly; she seemed sort of angry. Edward remained standing, shuffling every so often and peeking his head around the corner to look at the clock on the kitchen stove. Jasper stayed in his room the entire time, which was sort of weird, but he seemed to be the kind of person who enjoyed solitude. I sort of curled up in a ball alone on the love seat, pretending to watch the game and using the clock on the TV to decide when the best time would be to dismiss myself without being rude. Charlie would come pick me up if need be. We kept up trite conversation about stupid things like the first two days of school and the awful weather, making it virtually impossible to find an opportunity for an, "oh, look at the time…"
Luckily, Edward was on the same brain wave.
"Alice, let's get Bella home. Esme said Carlisle is coming home early tonight."
Carlisle? Esme? What weird names. I wondered who they were. Maybe there were additional Cullen siblings? Alice, Edward, and Emmett all sounded pretty unconventional. It would be sort of expected for their brother and sister to have funny names, too.
"Seriously?" Emmett interjected. "Dad's coming home early?"
Dad? Edward called his father by his first name? That was kind of weird. Rude, almost. I sometimes called my dad by his, but only if I was trying to get his attention or if I was angry with him.
"Yeah, I guess so. Esme wanted to make some nice dinner for him or something. So I guess we should leave, it's getting late." Alice nodded quickly, Rose leaning her head back to look at her.
"Already?" Rose whined. "You guys just got here!" Emmett crossed the room and pecked her on the cheek.
"I'll come back tomorrow, if you'd like," he grinned. She swatted him away playfully with a smile. It looked out of place on her usually scowled face.
"Jasper!" she called, still laughing. "Alice is about to leave, aren't you going to ask her out before she goes?" Alice smacked her on the arm, looking frustrated. I don't know how she expected anything different—Rose seemed to be like that all the time. Jasper yelled back something indecipherable, that kind of sounded like, "fuck off, Rosalie," but I couldn't be sure. I felt a hand brush my shoulder.
Edward Cullen stood behind me, looking at me with his severe green eyes. It was unfair, really. People shouldn't be able to paralyze others just by looking at them. My breath caught in my throat. He pulled his hand away immediately.
"Ready?" he asked gruffly. I nodded and picked my school bag up off the floor. Alice was still shooting daggers at Rosalie, but this time, Emmett's tongue was attached to Rose's neck. I shifted uncomfortably.
The pavement leading from the front door to the driveway was uneven, and I had to catch myself from falling on the way to Edward's Volvo.
"Watch yourself," he cautioned, reaching out to steady me. I blushed scarlet, sweeping my disheveled hair off my forehead.
"The rain makes it slick, I guess," I offered lamely, smiling in spite of myself. Edward chuckled heartily. It was a nice sound.
"That's probably it," he snickered, unlocking the doors. As I reached to move the passenger seat forward so I could slide in the back, Edward interrupted me. "Why don't you sit up front?" he asked smoothly. "I'll have Alice ride home with Emmett."
"O-okay," I stuttered, pulling back and slipping into the front seat. Alice appeared on the threshold then, a confused look on her tiny face.
"Roll down your window," Edward ordered before leaning across me to yell out to Alice. "I'm taking Bella home since you wouldn't hurry your ass up. Now go flirt with Jasper for five minutes while I take her and I'll meet you at home." He smirked as Alice's face turned a dangerous shade of red, gliding out of the driveway effortlessly before she could even protest. My breathing was still hitched from his chest being inches from mine just minutes before.
He drove without speaking at first, winding fluently through the rainy streets of Forks with ease. He flipped on his iPod, scrolling through quickly before choosing a song I didn't recognize.
"So…" he said, leering a bit. "How do you like Forks so far?"
Deep breaths, Bella. Take a deep breath, and just answer the question.
"I like it," I answered simply, thankfully not saying anything unnecessary about any form of animal dropping or my obsession with making paper snowflakes as a child.
"Well, that's good," he replied awkwardly, stopping abruptly at a red light. He looked towards me, and I had to make myself continue to stare out the windshield to avoid any hyperventilation. "Tell me what you like about it."
"My dad's great. Charlie, I mean. He's happy I came here, and I'm happy to make him happy." I laughed at my poor articulation.
"Yeah, Alice told me about your mom remarrying and stuff. That sucks."
"Not really. I mean, yeah, Phil's an asshole, but it's fine. She's happy." I hoped my use of an expletive wasn't awkward, and I hoped that he didn't notice my slight hesitation before saying it. It wasn't something that I often did. I bit my lip.
"You seem pretty cool about it," he remarked thoughtfully, stepping on the gas.
"I am," I agreed. "It's nice to have a change of scenery."
"Well fuck me!" Edward exclaimed suddenly, and I blushed. "I don't know where the hell I'm going. I didn't even bother to ask where you live." He slowed immediately, looking at me with flushed cheeks. I met his gaze. Big mistake.
"Uh, well, uh, I live, um, back there? I think? Sorry," I looked down to my lap, realizing that I hadn't even bothered to direct him whatsoever, and he obviously had other obligations. His fingers grazed the skin of my forearm, goosebumps forming where his skin touched.
"Hey, it's not a big deal," he soothed, making a U-turn. "I keep asking you questions, so technically, it's my fault."
"No, no. It's mine. Sorry. That was stupid." I swear, I was going to chew my lip all the way off by the end of the day. His eyebrows knit together.
"Bella, calm down. It's fine. You live off Maple, Alice said?" he asked, referring to the street that my cul-de-sac branched off of. I nodded. "We're only like, five minutes away. I don't mind." He smiled at me, exposing two rows of perfectly white teeth. I relaxed into the cool leather, smiling a bit.
"I guess you're right," I relented.
"I know I am," he grinned defiantly.
I saw Charlie's questioning eyes peek from between the blinds in the den when Edward pulled up to my house, and I tried to prepare an explanation for why Edward was dropping me off rather than Alice, like I'd told him.
"Listen," Edward said, interrupting my thought process, "I can give you rides to school if you need them." A grin stretched across my sallow cheeks. I probably looked a little too eager. "You know, until your truck gets fixed," he added.
My grin faded. Of course he was just offering out of courtesy. But he was just so perfect looking, I couldn't resist, regardless of the fact that he may or may not have thought I was bizarre.
"Yeah. That would be nice, actually."
"Okay, then. I'll be here tomorrow morning at half-past seven," he said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. Maybe it was a subconscious gesture, but I noticed it as one of anxiousness, so I figured that I needed to let him get home.
"Thanks for the ride, Edward. I appreciate it," I said thankfully, grabbing my bag from the back. The v-neck of my blue t-shirt slid down slightly, and it didn't escape my attention that Edward sneaked a glance. Though I was flattered, I instinctively pulled back and covered my chest with my arms. God, Bella, could you be any more awkward?
"Don't mention it," he said with a wry smile, one eyebrow pulling up. I watched him pull out of my driveway and speed away.
"What was that all about?" Charlie asked immediately as I entered the door. He wiped the arm of his flannel button-up over his forehead.
"Alice rode home with her brother, so Edward drove me home," I explained, hanging my backpack up on its peg.
"Who's Edward?" he asked, a trace of irritation in his tone.
"Alice's brother," I answered, crossing my arms over my chest. The gesture reminded me of the discomfited situation outside with the v-neck of my t-shirt, and suddenly I was anxious to get upstairs and away from Charlie's little interrogation.
"There are holes in your story, Bella," he accused. "You just now said that Alice and her brother went home."
"Alice has two brothers, Dad," I clarified, annoyed.
"Who is this Alice you keep flapping about?"
"Alice Cullen? I think her dad works at the hospital, so you might recognize that name."
"Oh, right. I know the Cullens, sort of. Good family," he huffed, clearing his throat. "But one of those boys was caught with drug paraphernalia a couple years back, I'm fairly sure, so I'll have to do a good background check on them before you're allowed out with them again." I rolled my eyes, inching slowly towards the staircase.
"Fine, Dad. But the Cullens are pretty decent. People make mistakes." I made a mental reminder to ask Edward if he was ever arrested.
"I guess so, just not the people that I let my daughter run around with."
"Right, Charlie."
This conversation was going nowhere, so I excused myself and retreated to my room for the rest of the night.
ALICE POV
Emmett had to give me a boost up to the passenger seat of the Jeep, cradling my right foot in his hands and lifting me effortlessly onto the raggedly upholstered seat. Rosalie snickered, and I shot her a venom-laced glance over my shoulder. I was irritated with her. I hadn't seen her for three weeks before Monday while she was in Mexico on vacation with Jasper and her mom and dad, and I'd missed hanging out with her the Monday before school due to my mental breakdown of sorts. And the first time that I saw my best friend after weeks of separation, she was pretzeled up with my brother, all cozy and shit. I had been livid. I still was. It bothered me that she hadn't even bothered to apologize. I'd just talk to Emmett about it on the way home.
He must have sensed my resentment, because he gave Rose the lightest and quickest of kisses before climbing up into the car, pulling out rapidly as I flipped her the bird.
"Jesus, Al," he chuckled. "Could you be any worse at disguising your distaste?"
"Yes," I shot back, "but you wouldn't like it much."
"Edward told me this would happen," he sighed. I tried not to be angry at the fact that Edward knew all along that Emmett was scamming on my best friend, but shoved it off after thinking about how the secret I'd kept from him was much, much bigger.
"Well then maybe you should have listened to him," I said tightly, fiddling with the radio.
"Relax, Al. It's not like I'm fucking her or anything," he shrugged, turning left right through a red light. A little Jetta honked loudly as I laughed dryly at his bluntness.
"It sure looked like it, Emmett," I replied. "You don't grope people like you grope Rose if you simply care about them."
"I swear," he said, raising his right hand and glancing at me. "I swear on my hermit crab's grave." I snorted.
"Fine. But if I even hear one single suggestion that you could even possibly be fucking her, I'm cutting it off in your sleep." He didn't even laugh at my threat. Probably because below my joking attitude, he heard how serious I was.
We crawled along the three-mile length of driveway that leads to our house and I stared at the expanse of solid green forestry that stretched out on either side of the Jeep.
"Al?" Em asked suddenly in a small voice. It sounded even quieter under the roar of his engine and the splashing of water beneath his tires. I turned my torso to face him, pulling my knee in towards my chest.
"What?"
"Are you…are you okay?" I knew what he was talking about, but for some reason, I still asked.
"About what?"
"About Dad." His seriousness nearly shocked me.
"Yeah, Em. I'm fine," I lied.
"Good. You know I worry about you, Al." I wanted to throw my arms around him and bury my face in his shoulder, but that was sure to complicate his navigation.
"I know you do. And I'm just fine. Don't fret about it." I hope that I sounded confident in what I was saying, because I knew that I wasn't. Emmett nodded once.
"If you ever want to talk to someone about it, you can talk to me, you know. I might not be so good at it, but I'll try. I'm not so talented when it comes to fucking emotionalism." He laughed a little before straightening out his features in the same grim expression he'd worn before. Emmett was too good for that. He was sunny. He was happy. And it killed me a little to see him so torn up. Because beneath his concern for my well-being, I saw a shade of pain that I knew I couldn't help. I rubbed his shoulder as he forced his mouth back into a smile.
*
That night, as I sat in the claw foot bathtub of the bathroom Edward and I shared, my cell phone buzzed restlessly from the pocket of my jeans that were sprawled out messily on the floor. I reached to silence it, splashing suds and bathwater over the heated tiles, thus soaking my pants with excess water. I set it on the toilet seat beside me, relaxing the crook of my neck back onto the tub's edge and closing my eyes.
Not even two minutes later, it buzzed again, rattling on the porcelain of the toilet like an alarm clock. I scoffed in irritation, reaching to peek at the caller ID and wondering who wanted my attention so badly. It was probably Rose, begging for forgiveness. I smiled smugly.
360-555-2947.
Hm.
I didn't recognize the number, and it obviously wasn't in my address book.
I set it back down on the lid, settling back into my relaxed pose, before it buzzed again. But this time, it buzzed only twice, an indication that it was a text message rather than an incoming call. Thoroughly fucking pissed off, I leaned up and flipped my phone open in annoyance.
New TXT MSG from: 360-555-2947.
Hey Alice, pick up, it read.
And, just as I thought it would, the thing started buzzing again. The unfamiliar number flashed once again.
"Hello? Who is this?" I answered, my voice thick with exasperation.
"Alice. Hi. It's Jasper." Whoa. Curveball. My voice immediately smoothed.
"Jasper! Hey, what's up?" My chest was pounding with excitement. Why was Jasper Hale calling me? It struck me as odd that all of these years that I knew him simply as my best friend's brother, I never seemed to get a hold of his cell phone number. He hesitated for a moment before answering me.
"I was just calling to, um, ask you what's up this Friday." He paused. "I mean, like, are you free? To, you know, hang out?" I didn't hesitate, not even for a second.
"Of course I'm free. What did you have in mind?" The change in the sound of my voice from the beginning of the conversation to not even a minute later was considerable. I now sounded like an eight-year-old girl after too much caffeine.
"I dunno," he mumbled. "Maybe we can go to Port Angeles to see a movie or something. Since you didn't get to come last Monday and everything." I shuddered, remembering exactly what I had been doing. I knew that Jasper knew what was going on, considering that he and my brothers were fairly close, but I didn't bother to mention it.
"Yeah, definitely," I squealed. "That sounds awesome." What would I wear? I could carry that Gucci bag Carlisle gave me. But did Jasper have an aversion to designer labels? Maybe I'd wear the cute destroyed jeans I'd bought with Esme the week prior. They were designer, yes, but at least they looked cheap. Plus, they made my butt look good. I was ahead of myself.
"Cool. Well I figured I'd go ahead and ask before anyone else could," Jasper laughed.
"What? Like who?"
"Like Mike fucking Newton, that's who." I remembered Edward mentioning that he'd accidentally spilled the beans to Jasper about my accidental drunken hookup with Mike last year during Edward's episode in the hallway, and I had to fight against the rage I felt for him in that moment. He was going to get a nice kick to the shin when I was done bathing. I decided to ignore Jasper's snide little comment.
I said goodbye to him, doing a weird, horizontal happy dance and splashing more water out on the floor.
EDWARD POV
"Could you move, Mallory?" I hissed, zipping my pants up and trying to push past the flaky blond who was still knelt before me on the floor. The athletic closet was small, not to mention dark, and I wanted to get the hell out of there.
"Seriously?" she asked, raising both eyebrows and wiping her mouth off with her flimsy little wrist.
"Yeah. Seriously." I knocked by her, unleashing some basketballs from the rack in the process and accidentally hitting her in the face with one. I knew I shouldn't have laughed, but I couldn't help it.
"Gosh, Edward. I should think that you'd be a little bit nicer to me after what I just did for you," she said abashedly, and I felt kind of bad for the basketball thing.
"Sorry, you're right. I just don't want to get caught, and it fucking smells in here."
Lauren Mallory, while she was a goddess with her tongue, was kind of a bitch and I didn't really like to spend much time with her as long as she was talking. The odd thing was that we didn't speak whatsoever outside of the gym closet everyday, and I kind of liked keeping it that way. She passed my time and kept my mind off things, so she was sort of worth it, at least a little bit.
I don't know why I kept doing the stupid asshole-ish shit that I'd just done with Mallory in the utility closet. It was rude, and so against everything that Esme had ever taught me about not objectifying women and all that other stuff. I was only a few days into the school year, and already, I was picking up right where I left off. As I stumbled out of the empty gym and to my Government class I was supposed to be in, a wave of disgust washed over me as I considered my life. What the fuck was I doing? Don't get me wrong—I enjoy a BJ just like any other guy would. And Lauren Mallory was decently attractive, not like I had to look at anything but the top of her head, but that's not what was getting to me. As I walked into the classroom and met the eyes of my sister and little, quirky, innocent Bella Swan, I felt alone and hollow, almost sick with shame. Carlisle had officially been diagnosed with cancer for almost two weeks now, and everyone in the family was stumbling to fill their appropriate shoes. I watched my brother and sister change swiftly, and while their personalities remained the same, they were growing up. They were maturing, and I wasn't. Emmett was a rock for my father, and Alice was a support for Esme, but I was still sneaking cigarettes alone in my room at midnight and ditching class to go into the gym with Mallory during fourth hour. It was monotonous, really. I felt stuck, like dried concrete was swallowing my ankles, and I knew I had to make a change. But I wasn't sure how.
Last night at my house had been hellish. Alice screamed and jumped around with Esme like a child after Jasper called and asked her out. She didn't even thank me, which, frankly, pissed me off a little. That was last time I played matchmaker for that ungrateful bitch. We never mentioned the wood saw thing again. Carlisle tried to ask me about it as calmly as possible, but I babyishly dodged the question and went back to avoiding him as usual. Luckily, he just removed the door altogether. He probably planned to replace it, but it was easier for me to creep on him without the door there at all. The doorframe still laughed at me a little, but it was bearable. Last night, I took my usual position against the wall before climbing the stairs to suck down a cigarette before bed. Everything was pretty much normal. Emmett was already in his bedroom, undoubtedly cooing to Rose over the phone, and Alice was still down the stairs squealing to Esme. This time, I tried to scoot over a little bit so I could slightly see into the room, since I couldn't really hear anything. It stressed me out. Carlisle's sighs and hums and movements usually let me know what kind of day he was having. He was generally lighthearted, and the past couple days I could tell by his heavy breathing that he was slightly stressed, but tonight I heard nothing. Inch by inch, I scooted closer towards the beam of light that shot out from the room, holding my breath.
And then, of course, the fucking floorboard squeaked beneath my right palm.
"You can come in, Edward. I know you're out there."
I froze at the sudden sound of Carlisle's voice. I was caught. My ears burned with chagrin as I hesitantly rose from my position on the floor.
"Just come in, son," he spoke again, his voice tolerant and slightly amused. I slowly entered the room, my eyes wide and my cheeks beat red. Carlisle sat silently in his big leather chair, staring at the blazing fire that swelled in the large stone fireplace. His eyes flickered to my face, a smile dancing on his lips. I didn't really know what to say. My father appeared to have known that I had been watching—or listening to him, rather—for the past week, and I'd been found out, red-handed. Fortunately, he spoke so I didn't have to.
"You thought you were being sneaky, didn't you? What have you been doing out there all this time?" He still appeared to be enjoying himself. It made me sort of angry. Before I could defend myself, he added, "And how do you get upstairs so fast? Somehow, you're gone by the time I'm finished in here."
"What do you do in here all the time?" I divulged in a slight case of word vomit. I briefly imagined Bella and her apparent lack of a brain filter, and nearly started laughing.
"Well, I do a lot of research and filing. Boring stuff. Things that I can't imagine you being interested in." His tone was flippant, and he lowered his eyes to a large book on his desktop. "So why do you watch me?" he asked after I failed to say anything. I considered getting up and running away, like a pussy, but I figured I'd tell him the truth, even though it scared the shit out of me.
"Because you stay in here all the time. And I feel like I'm sort of spending time with you if I just sit out there." The words sounded stupid as soon as they left my mouth, and I wished I could snatch them back. Carlisle's eyes looked sad then, deep creases forming in his forehead as he looked up towards me. I stood awkwardly, leaning towards the door, still tensed to run away if I needed to.
"You said on the boat last week that you hated my being in here all the time. That's how I knew to start listening for you." He knew me well, which surprised me, since he didn't appear to pay much attention to my existence.
"I know. I'm sorry. I'll stop," I whispered, defeated. My shoulders slumped over. What I was doing was honestly really weird, and I hoped it wouldn't drive my dad even farther away from me.
"I don't mind," he answered back softly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desk. "But I have wanted to know what the hell happened to my door." I drew in a shaky breath, sitting down on the Persian carpet and gathering my legs beneath me.
"Honestly?" I asked, ripping my fingers through my untidy hair. "I hated that fucking door."
Carlisle was silently urging me to continue after I fell silent, and I laughed bitterly despite the sudden intensity of the moment. My head felt heavy, and I could tell from the surge of snot to my nose that I was going to start crying like a fucking girl again. Carlisle, kind, compassionate, Carlisle, was materialized right in front of me. He was there, in all of his blue-eyed glory, looking at me with a certain light in the brilliancy of his irises that I had longed to feel with everything I had for my entire life. He was looking at me with…interest. He was concerned. I was in his special room, the one he'd hidden from me for so long, and now he was listening to me. Maybe he'd been looking at me that way all along, and I'd simply failed to notice. But now he was dying. His skin and his bones and his blonde hair and his gray sweater might not be there in the chair in three weeks. He had stage four lymphoma. I'd had no fucking clue what that was at the time, so naturally, I researched it on my computer. Basically, people that were sick with what Carlisle was sick with were encouraged not to start any long books. I'd been wasting a big piece of the end of Carlisle's days outside of that door, and now was my chance. A tear slipped over my bottom eyelid, dripping to the floor and creating a spot of darkness on the rug where it fell.
"I only wanted you to talk to me, Dad," I whimpered, his face hazy through my fucking girl eyes. "I wanted you to decide that this filing and research shit was less important to you than me. I wanted you to climb the stairs while I sat up there in my room alone and I wanted you to hang out with me. That's it. Nothing more."
